Wow. This chapter is just one, long, never ending scene. It introduces so many important concepts that I had to rewrite it over and over again. I had planned on adding another scene to this chapter, but no. It was supposed to be a huge fighting scene that's going to take ages to write, so I'm just going to post what I have for now.
On a side note, the reason why I call this a fusion is because I don't just copy and paste characters from one fandom into the other. Even if the characters remain different, the world they live has been effectively fused. You'll understand what I mean once you finish this chapter. And it won't stop there. Not even close.
Anyway, on with the show.
Eclipse: The Dark Side of the Moon.
Chapter 3: Truth and Dreams.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that, out of all my fiancées, I knew Shampoo the least. I'm not sure when it happened exactly but I'm pretty sure that I figured it out about a month into the siege. Just enough time had passed for things to settle down after the invasion, and I had just begun to understand that I was off the market. That's what prompted me to realize that I had no idea who my wife was.
I learned. Quickly.
Shampoo's lithe figure looked far too relaxed as she lounged in Nabiki's living room. It couldn't mean anything good. Not for him, at least.
She took a small sip of the undoubtedly third-rate beverage and smiled. Another bad sign.
In his experience, Nabiki's tea brewing skill effortlessly invoked a very different reaction. Plus, there was the fact that she was nowhere near the hostess her elder sister was. Kasumi always did her best when she prepared something, even when she did so for someone she didn't particularly approve of. On the other end of the spectrum was Nabiki, who was a petty, vindictive bitch when she wanted to be.
When he considered that Shampoo's cup was still virtually full and that the unappetizing liquid didn't look anywhere near fresh, he realized that this particular brew was one he would have to avoid ingesting.
Her voice brought him back to reality. "I had a feeling I'd find you here."
Ranma frowned in indignation. "Still having Mousse follow me around?" He didn't care about the surveillance. Not really. It just annoyed him that he had to ask. The blind bastard could be damn sneaky when he wasn't trying to kill someone.
She waved him off. "Nothing so complicated. Just a bit of guesswork."
He crossed his arms and walked two steps closer, prodding her. "What are you doing here Shampoo? You wouldn't come here for business and this sure as hell ain't a social visit."
Shampoo took the time to set her cup down onto the table before answering. She was still smiling. Very bad sign. "Most would find it alarming… that upon his return from a month long training journey, a man would prefer to spend his time with another woman, rather than his wife."
She didn't sound angry. In fact, she sounded amused. "Intimidation, is it? You know, a Matriarch can't afford to be so inflexible. You can't seriously expect me to reject all forms of female companionship that don't come from you."
The smile didn't budge. "I just wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into, or rather, who she was letting in."
The insinuation wasn't lost on either of them. Immediately, a memory of Nabiki's lessons, spoken in this very room, streaked through his mind.
Redirect, don't contradict. A well placed truth is just as misleading as any lie.
Ranma raised an eyebrow and spoke the truth."We're just friends."
"I know," she said, and he got the feeling that her words were more than worthless reassurances. A passing thought observed that her voice was lighter than what he remembered. She didn't sound as preoccupied as she normally did. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. "This isn't something that needs to worry your pretty little head. You already know the rules. Nabiki was the one who needed to be informed."
Ranma found himself frowning again, something he did often around his wife. "Don't call me that."
Shampoo giggled as she sensually slid her limber body off the seat. "Oooh, you have something against being pretty? What are you going to do about it, handsome?"
Okay. This is getting creepy. Shampoo's unusual behaviour was throwing him off, badly. Her manner was almost… playful.
For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, it occurred to him that the young Matriarch might be smiling because she was honestly happy to see him again. No strings attached.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that no matter how much he disliked her, the feeling wasn't mutual.
Now cautious and drained of belligerence, he decided to try and bring the conversation to its natural end. "Better, but I'd appreciate it if you called me Ranma."
"Alright… Ranchan."
And caution was thrown to the wind.
His wife stalked closer, unfazed by the intensity in his glare. He stood firm and spat out, "Why do you always have to try and provoke me?"
She tilted her head, looking contemplative. "Well, I don't know about you, but I think the sex is much better when you get all worked up."
Oh god.
One thing he'd learned being around Amazons so much was that modesty wasn't all that important to them and for good reason. When you spent most of your time fighting, especially at higher levels, clothes tended to become useless very quickly. It wasn't a problem for him now, but it had been a real issue when he'd been younger. It was one of the reasons why Genma spent so much time teaching him how to dodge… as well as how to repair his own clothing.
Still, it didn't make hearing her bring this up in public any less embarrassing
"I mean, I don't bruise easily but I couldn't tell you the number of times your fingers left marks on my thighs, my waist…" Shit, he was starting to blush. "…my breasts, my throat. Did you like that?" she asked. She pressed herself against him and brought her mouth to his ear. "Having your strong fingers curled around my vulnerable throat, did that make you feel strong? It gave me such a thrill. I didn't know if you were going to squeeze the life out of me. I knew you could."
Her whispers tickled the edge of his ear, urging him to put some distance between them, but he stood stock-still, lost in the memories.
He remembered.
He recalled thinking about it, in passing, indulging in morbid fantasies… but he hadn't realized she'd been aware of it.
"And I think you did too. Do you remember? I was on my back and you were moving so strongly that I had to close my eyes and scream. But you didn't like that, did you. No, the noise was bothering you so you cut it off at the source. Forcefully. Decisively. Do you remember?" she asked.
He did. The scene played out in his mind like he'd gone back in time and possessed himself.
"Did you see how quickly I stilled? Did it please you? And right then, you looked at me. Looked at me. And I came. Right. Then. And there. Even if you missed everything else, you must have felt me convulse. So, did you enjoy it, Ranma? Did you enjoy making me helpless?"
Most of the time, when they were having sex, he automatically avoided looking her in the eyes. He didn't know why. He knew that she spent a lot of time trying to goad him into it, but she rarely succeeded.
It was weird. He had tried to think of Akane while he was doing it, which was actually pretty creepy now that he thought about it, but he never managed to think about other women while he was in bed with Shampoo. He didn't know if she was aware of that and he certainly wasn't planning on telling her, but he very much remembered the scene she was describing.
And it wasn't right. Not entirely.
"You're never helpless," he mumbled.
A pause. And then another.
"If it weren't for you…" she whispered. "That would be true."
She stepped aside and walked for the open balcony door, kneeling down and putting on her shoes before putting a foot up on the railing. Not once did she turn back to look at him… or show him her face.
"I'll see you soon, Husband."
And then she was gone.
What the hell just happened?
"…I think I liked her better when she couldn't speak Japanese."
He stared at the place where Shampoo had stood for a second more, before turning to face his best friend.
"Truer words Nabiki… truer words."
They lapsed into silence fed by hesitation, both of them wondering what to say, what to do, what to think.
A discomforting miasma seemed to propagate like a disease from the area his wife had occupied. It was only natural. She had forced her way into an area directly opposed to her presence without taking the proper precautions and therefore violated the household's harmony.
Actions have consequences. Strong actions have strong consequences. Stronger actions have stronger consequences and so on and so forth. But that is not the end of it. The weight of the consequence is also dependant on the actor. A powerful man's actions are not equivalent to a weak man's actions. Even if the action is constant, the consequence is not invariable.
The actor commits an action which invokes a consequence. Actor, action, consequence. Beginning, Middle, End. Birth, Life, Death. The trinity of causality.
Most human beings went through their entire lives without meeting anyone truly powerful. At best, they saw others with seemingly infinite monetary power. Celebrities, politicians, businessmen, royalty… a thousand personalities deemed important and plastered over televisions and newspapers.
It is easy to forget that money is only borrowed power. Its strength exists only in the minds of other human beings. Money is an idea, a concept that one can exchange for actual favours. It is even easier to forget that a favour is the only thing money can buy. If no one can or will grant the favour, money loses all utility.
Case in point. On a sinking ship, all the money in the world would not buy another man's lifejacket.
Shampoo was a powerful young woman. If a leader of men could be likened to a Queen Bee, she would be a lioness.
Something significant had happened here. He could feel it in the air. He could smell it. He could taste it, and it was no accident.
Shampoo had to have known about the consequences. Nabiki probably wouldn't even consciously acknowledge it, but there was no way he could have missed this.
So it was a message. One he couldn't quite decipher.
The greatest martial artists in the world all had one thing in common. They all had the aptitude and the training to utilize their ki as they saw fit. They spent their entire lifetimes establishing, training and cultivating life. They strove to find new methods to use it efficiently and to gain it in greater quantities.
In the simplest of terms, martial artists are more alive than other people. Their link with the world is much stronger than the norm. If a human being is composed of a body, a mind and a soul, then a martial artist's goal is to merge all three into one. To merge Birth, Life and Death into one singularity. Their ultimate goal is to surpass all three and become something more, whatever that may be.
A master of the art is almost like a fixture of the world as he intertwines his soul with reality. Martial artists are stronger, faster and live longer than would otherwise be possible. Every breath they take gives them more energy than they can actually use while living a normal life.
It is said that the greatest masters can survive on oxygen and ideas, food enough for the body and the mind.
Happosai proved that it was possible. He spent an ungodly amount of time sealed inside a cave, thinking only of his perversions. It is a testament to his corruption that he emerged virtually unchanged.
The Amazon elders said that Cologne once spent an entire year on an isolated mountain top in deep meditation. Ranma had no idea if he could do it or not. He knew his father couldn't do it or at least never wanted to.
Shampoo wasn't yet able to perform such a feat, but her soul was very much entrenched in the world around her, just like any other martial artist of any merit. If she wasn't careful, she could… leak into the surroundings. That is to say, that her soul could expand beyond the limits of her body and contaminate everything in her immediate vicinity.
He could feel shadows of her intensity lingering in Nabiki's apartment. It was like she was standing right behind him in her cursed form, staring and plotting. It was making him supremely uncomfortable.
He couldn't tell what she had been thinking or what she had been feeling. She wouldn't let it be that easy, which all but proved that this was a planned act. All he could really feel was a sense of unpleasantness, which didn't really help him at all as it was probably his reaction to something he couldn't consciously grasp.
Guess I'll have to avoid this place for a while. Damn it, you won't get away with this Shampoo. I won't let you do as you please.
It was almost depressing. It was as if everyone he knew conspired to make his return absolutely unbearable. The possibility wouldn't have been so credible if they hadn't been so opposed to his departure. It certainly wouldn't be the first time a group of people conspired against him.
It was funny how things changed. A few years before, Nabiki would have been a prime suspect in any suspected conspiracy. Now… now…
Hmm…
Nah. He was being paranoid. This wasn't a conspiracy. They were probably giving him a hard time just on principle.
"You look uncomfortable."
Nabiki stepped away from the kitchen's threshold and into the wider area of the living room. His eyes followed her figure and he noticed that she seemed a little preoccupied. She was dressed for comfort, in loose cutoff shorts and a large T-shirt. Her face was empty, but her hair was dishevelled, like she'd passed her hands through it one too many times.
"So do you," he pointed out.
Nabiki nodded absentmindedly as she took a seat on her couch. "Yeah, but I have an actual reason for feeling discomfort."
Ranma raised his eyebrows and waved towards the balcony door. "Oh, and that right there isn't a good reason?"
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course not. I know you, Ranma. You don't feel guilt."
He blinked a few times and rolled the thought over in his head for a few seconds. "Isn't that a little much?" If it had been anyone but Nabiki speaking, he wouldn't have even considered it. He wasn't the nicest guy in the world, but he wasn't amoral either.
She looked up to him. It took a second, but she seemed to realize what she had said. Odd. Nabiki rarely made mistakes. "Hey, I'm not saying you don't have a conscience here. I'm just pointing out the fact that you never regret anything," she amended.
"What?" he objected. Again, he failed to agree. "I regret things."
"No you don't." Nabiki shot him down. Instantly. "You lament the way the people around you react to what you do. You don't actually feel bad about the actions themselves. It's why you always repeated the same mistakes with the fiancées. Those girls never figured out that you weren't the one who had to change."
He couldn't blame them. He didn't get it either. "What do you mean by that?"
There was a moment of silence in which she took the time to cross her legs and rest her hands on top of the uplifted knee.
She was making herself comfortable. This was probably going to take a while then.
"I mean that your lack of regret isn't necessarily a bad thing. The reason why you rarely feel guilty is because you rarely make mistakes. You just don't do things that would soil your dignity. It took me a while to understand that."
He still didn't get it and he was honestly starting to lose interest. She needed to get to the point. "Well, the important thing here is that one of us gets it."
"I'm talking about your mouth, dumb-dumb," she said softly. His frustration managed to get a smile out of her. It was a tiny thing, but it was the first sign of success on his part. He was tired of looking at her poker face. "You see, everyone lies Ranma, but when you first got here you didn't. And when you did, you did it badly. When you were sixteen, you just said what was on your mind. You had no tact. You were brutally honest and that wasn't something anyone around you was used to. The reason why most of what you said annoyed so many people is because no one was on your wavelength."
Nabiki paused for a moment and passed the fingers of her right hand through her hair. "Back then, I thought you were some idiot hick who didn't know any better. I don't know if you noticed, but you were doing it on purpose. You like to find out what makes people tick and once you do, it's only natural for you to use that information against them. So you threw jabs. They stung a little, but they didn't do much damage. Of course, your targets didn't like it much and always attacked you in response, but you were more than strong enough to handle the backlash so you didn't care.
"After all, you were doing what you were supposed to do. How do you help someone improve if you don't show them the flaws in their technique? And what does it matter if they get a few bruises in the process? It's just a spar and the pain will give them incentive to improve anyway, right? I'm guessing that's how most of your lessons went."
"What the hell did you and Shampoo talk about?" he mumbled under his breath. Still, he kept his ears open and his mind focused. Nabiki's insight was interesting. She usually told him to figure it out on his own. He didn't see why he should. It seemed to him like she spent more time thinking about his life than he did.
Nabiki seemed oddly introspective, considering that she was talking about him. "Not one of your fiancées and rivals thought like you do. They still don't understand. You're a martial artist. You poke and prod at all weaknesses because that's what you do. The difference between enemy and friend can only be measured in the force behind your blows. It's not a career for you and it's not a hobby either. It's a way of life. A religion. A characteristic. The art affects everything that you do. Every move, every thought and every perception. All day, every day. You never stop being a martial artist. You have no idea just how hard it was for me to understand that."
She huffed in self-disgust and leaned onto the backrest, staring at the ceiling. "Back then, my sister was what I based every martial artist on. That was a mistake and a stupid one at that. Akane was only a martial artist in a dojo, or in a fight. When she was at school, she was a student. When she spoke to me, she was my little sister. When she hung out with her friends, she was a teenage girl who happened to know martial arts. It's not like that for you. Your father taught you one thing and one thing only. And he taught it very well.
"You've been a martial artist for as long as you can remember. You will be a martial artist for the rest of your life, no matter what happens. You have some issues functioning in society, but it's not you that has a problem, it's everyone else. I used to think that you expected everyone around you to be perfect… but now I think that you just expect everyone else to either be comfortable with who they are or working to reach that point. Before coming here, you must have never spent much time around people who didn't like who they were and did nothing about it."
Actually, back then I didn't spend much time around anyone aside from Pops.
"To tell you the truth, now that I know you better… I can honestly say that your relationship was doomed from the start," she mused. "The only reason you two got so close is your curse. Now that you've accepted it, there's nothing she can use to bring you down to her level."
That caught his attention. "You mean Akane?"
For a moment, he thought that his interruption would bring Nabiki out of whatever mood she was in, but she only nodded inattentively. "My little sister is very insecure, you know. She practices martial arts but she doesn't live it like you do."
Ranma sighed. He didn't like to obsess over people's actions like Nabiki did and she was starting to lose him. If she didn't start elaborating soon, he was going to get a headache.
Well, if they were going to have a lengthy conversation about it, then he might as well make himself comfortable. He turned around and headed for the kitchen, raising his voice as he walked further away. "I'm supposed to know what you mean by that?"
Once inside the small room, he traveled the few steps that remained between him and the fridge and opened it with the casual swagger of a frequent visitor. He buried his head into the chilly crevasse and split his attention between his auditory and visual senses. Nabiki had learned to raise her voice so that it could be clearly heard over the sound of shuffling groceries. She made full use of that skill as he hesitated over her selection of canned beverages.
"Idiot! I mean that the art comes before everything else to you. Your self-esteem is based on how good you are and that's it. School grades, material possessions and concern over your place in society all lag far, far behind. On the other hand, my sister spent most of her life comparing herself to Kasumi. You can probably guess how that ended up."
A faint smile was etched onto his features as he emerged from the large kitchen appliance. Reminiscing over his ex-fiancée's many domestic failures never failed to get a reaction out of him, good and bad. Adjusting his hold over a can of chilled orange juice, he shut the refrigerator door and walked out of the kitchen.
The subject matter was beginning to get to him. The cadence of his steps slowed down as he stared into the open space. "Say, Nabiki?" He looked at her and saw that she was watching him closely. "Why did Akane start to learn the art?"
Her response was immediate. "Why did you?"
Ranma grinned in recognition. That was the Nabiki he knew. "You'll think this is funny but… I wanted to be like my old man."
She leaned forward, wide-eyed in disbelief. "You're kidding?" He ignored her scrutiny and brought his fingertip to the can's tab and cracked it open. "You're not kidding."
He raised an eyebrow. "You got an answer for me?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. You'll have to ask her. Why in the world would you ever want to be like Genma Saotome?" she asked.
Ranma shrugged with feigned indifference. "Well, you didn't really answer my question, so I think I'll keep my mouth shut until you find one."
Nabiki stared at him crossly. "You're going to have to stop avoiding Akane one day, Ranma."
He had to nod, because she was right. "That's true. But that's no reason to give you the answer for free. You know me so well already. I wouldn't want to be completely predictable."
Nabiki maintained the intensity of her stare and crossed her arms. "You know I'm going to find out."
He took a sip of juice to hide his smile. A while ago, he would have fallen for that one. Nabiki wasn't really interested in his relationship with Akane. She was just using it to find out what he was refusing to tell her.
Now was the time to change subjects. "Of course you are. You're just not going to find out now. Haven't they heard of patience on planet Naboo?"
He relished in the expression of disgust that graced her face. "Urgh," she groaned. "I should've never let you see that movie."
He held his eyes wide open and feigned incomprehension. "What? You should be proud Naboo. You have a planet named after you."
"I will hurt you."
A threat that involved physical violence? From Nabiki? He was on a roll. Hmm… come to think of it, maybe she was right about him. "Aw come on, don't be like that!"
The irritation was washed off her face as she unfolded her arms and brought her hand to her face. She stared at her nails dispassionately and said, with perfect sincerity, "Fine. Forget it." And just like that, his fun was over. "How did it go?"
He managed to get her to change the subject, but that didn't mean that he was out of the woods. He needed to make sure she was interested before she took advantage of his rapid-fire mouth… and his inevitable inattention.
"What? The training trip?" He shrugged. "It was alright."
She glanced up from the apparently mesmerizing sight of her own fingernails. "What do you mean by that? Did it work?"
Look casual. "Of course it did." Hook…
Nabiki looked… unamused. "Ranma." He almost winced. He was pretty sure that he twitched. He'd have to work on that. "You spent over three days telling me how stupid you thought my idea was."
…That long? Time sure flies by when you're having fun.
He didn't bother trying to deny it. He just nodded in acceptance. "Yeah, and it's still a stupid idea. You just misunderstood why I thought it was stupid. I never said it wasn't going to work," he revealed. Line…
She seemed sceptical. "And you knew this how?"
And sinker. "Hasn't Soun told you about the elements?"
"What?" She paused for a moment, thinking. "You mean Fire, Water, Wind, Earth and Heaven?"
For a quick guess, that was pretty accurate. "Yeah, but your version's kind of incomplete."
"I don't follow."
He moved to take a seat and sat his beverage down on the coffee table. This was going to take a while.
But on the plus side, he had successfully managed to divert Nabiki's attention.
"The elemental system is basically something some people came up with to identify what the users of mystical power could do with it. They made up a few symbols and useless pictures that don't really mean anything a few thousand years ago," he said. "Most of the methodology was set up by a bunch of self-important old men who weren't skilled enough to use the techniques themselves. The Amazon scrolls aren't as cluttered by useless bullshit, but they like to write in riddles, which is just as annoying.
"I'm not totally sure, but I think you guys have the full elemental system. That's Air, Water, Fire, Earth and Wood under nature, Metal under humanity and Heaven, Void and Ether under spirits."
Nabiki took a moment to digest the information and nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Well, most of those are pretty obvious… but what's ether?"
Ranma took a sip of his juice as he searched for an answer. He finally set the can down and tried to explain. "It's complicated. Think darkness and light. Something and nothing at the same time. It's the neutral element."
"Darkness and Light are grouped to together?" she asked.
He shrugged. "They're the same thing. Think yin and yang. My point is that martial artists have their own system of elements called the Five Steps. Ki can be transformed to five different elements, Water, Fire, Earth, Wood and Metal."
Nabiki quickly held up a hand. "Wait. You mean you can't use your ki in any other way?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"What about the Hiryu Shoten Ha? Isn't that wind manipulation?" she questioned.
He looked at her oddly for a moment. "What? No. What gave you that idea?"
"A giant tornado," she answered drolly.
"Which is the end result," he countered. "I never actually use my ki to manipulate the wind directly. I just use the soul of ice and my opponent's battle aura to create a field where a tornado is created."
"So you use Water and the other guy's Fire?"
He nodded. "That's about it."
Nabiki brought her hand to her head and began massaging her forehead. "I see… so what happened on the training trip?" she asked distractedly.
He observed her carefully as he gave his report. "I did what you asked for. I managed to make some physical fire and move some water. I tried making some but I really have no idea how. It's a lot harder to conjure than fire. I did manage to freeze some though. I could already—"
She quickly brought her hand back up and interrupted his explanation. "Wait. Stop. That doesn't make sense," she said, shaking her head.
"What?"
"I'm just thinking about what you said about the five elements… What about the Umisenken? Isn't that a Void technique?" she questioned.
He shook his head. "Nah. It's just a very difficult Water technique, even if there's no actual water involved," he explained. "There's more to elements than the physical. It's the kind of technique Ryoga would have a hell of a time learning."
"Why?"
Ranma blinked in surprise. He would have thought it obvious. "Because he's a knucklehead. He's never been able to concentrate on anything. You think he'd be able to learn something like the Soul of Ice?"
Nabiki was undaunted and continued her interrogation. "What about the Yamasenken?"
"Advanced Metal."
"Hidden Weapons?"
Ranma grinned in rueful appreciation. "That's actually really clever. See, the technique is just an aura trick. You know that the more light there is, the deeper the shadows are, right?" He waited until Nabiki nodded before continuing. "Well, auras emit light, even when you can't see them. So we just wrap our auras around us and hide the weapons in the shadows inside our clothes. That's the reason why we can't use the technique while naked."
Nabiki grit her teeth in frustration and tried again. "Have you even tried to use other elements?"
"Hell no." He was tempted to ask her what the hell she was looking for, but she probably wouldn't answer. In any case, there was something he needed to make her understand.
"Nabiki, it's not that it can't be done, because it's probably possible. It's that no one is stupid enough to try it. It might be fine for the Senshi to use whatever element they want but that's only because they're not using their own energy. I have to directly manipulate every scrap of ki that's available to me. If I try it, it's going to have an effect on me. A system isn't absolute. It doesn't really outline what is or isn't possible. It's just…"
He floundered and hesitated, looking for the best way to explain himself. Eventually, he sacrificed his pride and used the established symbolism.
"Picture a pentagram," he began. "A five pointed star with six empty spaces, a pentagon in the middle with a triangle at each side. Martial artists breathe in Air to make ki. That ki goes in the pentagon. That's the ki that is used for basic techniques. It's definitely possible and perfectly safe to take that ki and transform it into one of the Five Steps. Try to use one of the others and all bets are off. You might be fine or you might open a gate and summon an atrocity from the depths of hell. Or worse, an atrocity might summon you into hell."
He leaned forward and stared into Nabiki's eyes. "Using the elements is all about your state of mind. When I convert ki to fire, it's not ki in the shape of fire. It's just fire. When I use my ki to make a fireball, I lose part of myself to that fire. There's a reason why certain elements are forbidden. You don't want to find out what happens to people who lose part of themselves to things that aren't of this world, good or bad. Face it Nabs, Ki isn't like magic."
They stared at one another in silence for over a minute as Nabiki worked through what he had said.
"No."
His head fell slack. A weary sigh escaped unstrained.
"You're wrong. Ki is exactly like magic," she said.
He slouched into the couch and released a guttural groan. "This again…"
She took this to mean that he wasn't paying enough attention to her idea. "Look, I know you don't believe me, but at least listen."
He didn't bother to adjust his posture, but he still waved her on. "I'm listening."
She stared at him for a moment but didn't really have any option but to continue. "I don't have any real proof, but these results really increase the possibility. I mean, ki and magic may have different sources but they can be used to do similar things."
"What's the point of all this?" He was more than tired of this subject. "Even if you're right, what does it matter? They may be completely similar or entirely different, the point is that they're handled differently."
"You don't know that," Nabiki pointed out. "From what you told me, I think we can assume that ki fits into Ether. I mean, it has to be one of the elements, right? And Light and Dark is exactly what I would describe the Moko Takabisha and the Shishi Hokodan. As a martial artist, you have perfect control over that one element and I think that you would have to possess rudimentary control over another to be able to convert it and since magic is nothing but the control of elements…"
Ranma sat like a steel rod was rammed into his spine. He looked at his friend in disbelieving shock. "Wait… you're not really suggesting…"
"Ranma, just give it a chance." Nabiki attempted to pacify him. "All we have to do is get you a planetary binding. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to…"
He shot to his feet. "Whoa, whoa whoa, slow down. You want me to do what?"
Nabiki knew that the situation was getting out of control and didn't hesitate to give her side of the argument. "With a binding you could have an unlimited supply of energy! Just think of the possibilities! We could just drop you off behind the barrier, come back in three days and the war would be over!"
She was playing his ego but it wouldn't be enough. Not for this. "I think you're overestimating what I can do. Three days is a little much."
"I think you're underestimating the amount of power we're talking about."
No, no, he wasn't going to play this game with her. "Look, I don't care. I'm not going to beg at Serenity's heel for one of her trinkets."
"I know you two don't like each other." Understatement. "I'm not asking you to go up to Serenity and I'm not asking you to join the Senshi. Look, the Sailor Senshi rely on three pieces of equipment to do what they do. The Henshin stick takes care of the transformation and contains a symbolic set of obfuscating armor. The tiara holds and transmits knowledge of a specific set of spells. And the Sailor crystal holds all the power. You don't need to wear the armor and you don't have to know the spells.
"All I want you to do is to keep your mind open so that if something comes up, we won't have too much trouble implementing it."
In other words, she had something planned and all he had to do was go along with it. "What kind of game are you playing?"
"I don't play games, Ranma. I do business," Nabiki clarified.
For some reason, he found that statement particularly hilarious. It took a few seconds, but he managed to control his convulsive laughter long enough to make a comment. "So I'm business now?"
A satisfied smirk was born and ruled over her features uncontested as she joined him on her feet. "You were always business, baby. Always."
Her words failed to faze him. He knew how to distinguish between wishful thinking and reality. "Heh. Sure doesn't seem like it."
"That's just because you don't like business."
Ranma cocked his head as he thought over Nabiki's unique interpretation. "And you do?"
"Is that a surprise?"
He shrugged. He also knew the difference between liking something and liking what that something brought you. "I just thought you liked power. Being in control. That kind of thing."
Her smirk softened into something a little more honest and she nodded, almost reluctantly. "Well, that too."
Ranma looked into her apologetic smile and was overcome by a feeling he could only qualify as passionate, though it was different from what sometimes he felt with Shampoo. It was softer and much less volatile.
He tried to put it into words but could only gesture about and babble uselessly. He looked helplessly into Nabiki's bewildered face and silently asked for her aid.
Of course, since she couldn't know what he wasn't talking about, there was no possible way for her to help. It was almost like a game of charades, only much more frustrating.
In the end, he decided to try something he'd seen other people do in situations much like this one. And maybe, if he was lucky, she would understand.
He stepped closer to her, so close that the heat from her breath would warm his sore chest if it weren't for the fabric of his shirt.
She looked up at him in that special manner of hers. Cool, detached and expectant. Kind of like she knew what he was going to do long before he did it and that the only thing left for her to do was to watch it play out. Her smile was gone and her face was blank, but she didn't move away.
He raised his arms and hesitated for a few seconds before wrapping them loosely around her waist. They stood in this awkward pose for a long moment, trapped in indecision and uncertainty. Finally, just as he was about to let go and apologize, he felt her lean into his embrace and wrap her arms around his neck.
He smiled and tightened his hold on her, his best friend.
He had a thousand allies, rivals, enemies and fiancées. But he'd only ever had one friend.
Ukyo had been his buddy before all that nasty fiancée business, but they never had the time to get to know each other. They were acquaintances at best. They had been friendly, but they hadn't been friends, which is why he'd forgotten her over the years.
He didn't think he'd ever forget Nabiki. No matter how much time passed.
And that feeling he could not find words to describe? He got it now. He was just happy to be back.
He turned his head towards her ear and whispered, "It's nice to see you again, Nabiki."
She nodded, once, slowly and mumbled, "Right back at you, Ranma."
They stayed together for what seemed like a long time, neglecting conscious movement, enveloped in each other's warmth and presence and almost revelling in the experience. Both of them held on for their own selfish reasons. They tried to ignore the outside world as best they could, save for the pleasant feeling of proximity.
Eventually though, the pressures of the outside world reminded him that he couldn't afford to sit still. So, with marked reluctance, he relaxed his grip and slipped his arms out of their position, resting his hands onto Nabiki's hips.
She didn't budge. That brought a hint of a smile to his lips. Her behaviour was very familiar. It was like this every time he tried to wake her up. Nabiki often had great difficulty moving once she found herself in a comfortable position.
There were plenty of ways to get her going again, but he found that the easiest was simply to ask her a question.
"How's your old man?"
He felt her bosom shift against his chest as she took a deep breath and released it as a shuddering sigh. She slid back half a step, looking down and hiding her face from view, with her hands settled on his shoulders.
Before he could do anything at all, she looked up and seemed perfectly fine. "He's alright. He and the others have just about finished settling into their new facilities. And that reminds me…"
She turned and walked away with a steady gait, and he could only watch as she slipped into the depths of her apartment. He'd been observing carefully and saw no sign of distress or preoccupation. And yet, he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something…
Weird. Just… weird. What have you gotten yourself into Nabiki? I hope you know what you're doing. But I gotta say, the Sailor Senshi? You sure know how to pick your marks…
A delicate hand carrying a rectangular piece of plastic entered his field of vision. He looked up into the face of expectancy and awaited his instructions.
"Here."
He looked down again but did not move to take what was offered. "What's this? A debit card?"
"Yeah, now that they finally have a budget, Dad figured that you would need one if you ever needed to buy anything."
"But I'm not a member of T-MAG," he protested.
Nabiki rolled her eyes. She probably couldn't even understand the concept of refusing money. "Technically, you're not an Amazon either and you're definitely not a Sailor Senshi or a JSDF soldier. If you're not careful, you're going to wind up being the only one who's not getting anything out of this. Besides, you've done more for them than anyone. Take it."
She looked annoyed now, so he decided not to push it. He took the card and slipped it into his sleeves.
"I noticed that you didn't ask about the rest of the family."
He shrugged. "The Amazons wouldn't let anything happen to Kasumi and I'll see her later anyway. I already saw Akane."
Nabiki jerked and started examining him closely, seemingly realizing that his clothes were slightly ripped and rumpled. "When?"
"Just before I got here. I ran into Happosai's freaks."
It was only now that he noticed just how backwards their conversation was. They'd started with the heavy stuff and they were only now handling the greetings and small talk.
"So she was on duty."
He nodded. "Yeah."
She didn't bother hiding a faint wince. "Well, that couldn't have ended well."
"Actually, nothing happened," he refuted. "Rei was there. Speaking of which, what the hell did you tell the Senshi about me?"
Nabiki didn't seem to react overmuch to his sudden question. "Nothing much. Just what they needed to hear," she answered, as if they weren't talking about anything of importance.
He looked carefully. As if she was a challenger. As if every twitch was a prelude to an attack he wouldn't be able to block or deflect. And even then, the only thing he noticed was her shifty eyes.
"Oh I see," he said mockingly. "You were working on your so-called plan."
Nabiki's poker face rarely revealed her emotions, only lies and half-truths.
She smiled tightly and crossed her arms. "I hope you know that when this all pans out, I'm going to take every opportunity to rub it in your face."
He smirked. That had been the truth. "I'll take my chances. Anyway, I've got more rounds to make. I'll come by in a few days."
She blinked, surprised. "You got something planned?" His visits were usually quite a bit longer.
"Nah. Shampoo soaked this room with her presence. It feels like she's standing right behind me. It's really annoying."
Nabiki looked around her, absently rubbing the skin of her right arm. "Is that what that is? I think I can just barely feel it. Is it going to go away?"
That comment brought his eyebrows up. He hadn't expected her to detect it. "It'll be a few days," he admitted.
She thought it over for a second before nodding in acceptance. "Good. I wouldn't want to move."
Ranma stared at her in bewilderment. "Nabiki, you're the only person living on this block. Everyone with a brain moved away ages ago. You don't pay rent and the city keeps the facilities in these parts open so that everyone involved in the war effort can use them free of charge. Technically, this apartment is just as good as any other in this building."
"And your point is?" Seeing that he was unconvinced and looked ready to continue with the tiresome subject, she smiled. "Let me put it this way. If I have to move, you're going to be the one moving all my appliances."
Suddenly, his urge to continue along this line of conversation was severely diminished.
His reluctance wasn't driven by the idea of physical work. Nabiki didn't own anything that would require real effort for him to carry. It was just that she was likely to goad him into rearranging her furniture until she was satisfied.
He knew from experience that reaching an acceptable level of satisfaction could take an entire afternoon. Unfortunately, that kind of mindless repetitive work became extremely tedious after the first five minutes or so.
"Right," he mumbled. Oddly enough, Nabiki seemed to be moving further and further away from him, all without taking a single step. Then he realized that he was the one moving and forced himself to stop. "I think I'll go pay your old man a visit. They moved to Chiyoda, right? Near the palace?"
Nabiki shook her head, smiling.
"Trust me Ranma, you can't miss it."
