Tales of the Foxcat
By Ozzallos
Chapter 10
The moment hung in time for one Naruto Uzumaki as the gates of his home swung open. True, they were rather imposing gates built from wood and iron by master carpenters to serve as a stalwart against ninja and their summons alike, but that wasn't what had the genin in an awed stupor. It was what lay beyond those eight story gates.
The world.
Excitement bubbled from within the blond ninja as he contemplated his place in it, now literally only five meters separating him from the grand adventure that his first mission would undoubtedly take him on. Life and death struggles! Fame! Heroic rescues! A wide, toothy grin broke out across the genin's face as he thought about everything that was out there waiting for him. He reached for the sky as the epic nature of his quest took its toll.
"LET'S GO!"
His team and their client turned back to stare. Five blocks away atop a modest storage building, a thirteen year old martial artist all but groaned as the echoing exclamation reached his ears. Ranma pinched his nose in disbelief, but continued to watch the scene play out at ground level.
"What are you so excited about?" Sakura rolled her eyes, all but knowing the answer. Sure enough, her blond counterpart was more than happy to supply the reason for his exuberance.
"'Cuz I've never left the village before!" Naruto's head was on a swivel as he crossed the invisible line separating the old from the new, only to be stopped cold by the very person they were assigned to protect.
"Hey!" Tazuna glance back at the one eyed ninja riding herd on the genin with a doubtful look. "Am I really going to be safe with this brat?"
And just what I need, the client to already start doubting us, Kakashi frowned at Naruto's outburst mentally, but fixed a pleasant countenance for their ragged looking client regardless. "Hehehehe... Well, I am a Jounin, so don't worry."
"Hey, old man! Don't go messing with ninja! I'm Incredible!" Naruto continued to simmer however, as his grand adventure took its first hit from the old drunk. The bum obviously didn't know he was being escorted by the future Hokage of Konoha, prompting the genin to correct that oversight. "My name is Naruto Uzumaki! Remember it! Because one day I will take on the super elite title of Hokage!"
The old man in question cast a bland look down at the boy trying to impress him and pulled his kasa down his hat to shield his eyes from the morning sun, then took a swig from his ever present bottle of saki. Warm alcohol rolled down his throat, warding off the cool morning chill and he shook his head. "Hokage is the village's number one ninja, right? I doubt somebody like you could do it..."
From his distance, Ranma couldn't tell what the old man's reply was, but Naruto's heated response certainly echoed for blocks, causing the martial artist to grin. He watched the fireworks begin in earnest as the group of five walked beyond the perimeter and out of sight. Naruto's protest continued to echo, causing Ranma to almost wish he could tag along too. That wasn't in the cards, however.
"Best of luck, kiddo." He had his own obligation here, so he wished his farewell from the roof top. The boy glanced behind him to the girl in a red and orange obi sporting a similar smirk of amusement at the boy's antics. She noticed Ranma's attention and waited as he formed the question. "You'll watch over him?"
"The brat is beneath my attention," The teen avatar of Kyuubi sniffed and turned away to the rest of Konoha's skyline. Her orange mane was caressed by the breeze as she took in the sight. Regardless, she nodded. "As you will uphold our pact."
"Gave you my word."
From anybody else, Kyuubi might have scoffed at the notion. A man monkey and his word were as valuable as the dust beneath her feet. The hanyou child before her, however... The kitsune smirked. "Then we have an accord, though using my power to escort a drunken bridge building monkey is beyond ridiculous. If the silly one eyed sharingan bearer cannot protect his kits..."
"Yeah, well, the one eyed sharingan bearer ain't exactly impressed me with his training regimen, so keep an eye on 'em." Ranma frowned. Like the demon to his back, it was probably completely unnecessary to worry about. Unlike the demon, he knew all about interesting times and had since decided to err on the side of paranoia.
"I shall, keep an eye on him, as you eloquently put it," Kyuubi merely chuckled. "For lack of his other."
"Then I got shit to do," Ranma rose to stand and took a step off the building, landing on the sidewalk below and only raising a few pedestrian eyebrows. The shapely girl landing next to him in short yukata and fishnets gathered a few more. Ranma noticed the soft landing and turned to the predatory looking girl off to his right. "Shouldn't you be chasin' after them?"
"I'm in the whelp, ignorant child," Kyuubi stated with arrogant humor. "How much closer can I possibly be?"
"But you're... That's not..." Ranma blinked, trying to figure out the mechanics of her avatar for himself, then simply gave up after another attempt with a defeated sigh. "You ain't gonna stop pestering me, are ya?"
"When there is such entertainment to be had around you? Hardly."
The martial artist slumped, then resolutely accepted his fate. "Fine, then ya get to help me with the girls."
"And what shapes shall you make them draw in the dirt today?" The teen kitsune bubbled with mirth as she trailed after a grumbling Saotome. "A square? Perhaps a triangle until they are rendered senseless with nausea?"
That caused Ranma Saotome's mood to lighten somewhat as he remembered the results of his particular version of the Hiyru Shoten Ha training; that being four teenagers unable to maintain a straight bearing by the end of the day, if not falling over from the vertigo the exercises had induced. Nor had that been the end of it as he chucked wooden kunai at any of his students, and Naruto by extension, unable to keep that spiral under their feet.
The end results were several bruises, screaming fits and a marked improvement in their spacial awareness in spite of hating his guts by the end of the day. Today may have been the first day of Naruto's mssion, but that didn't mean the remaining girls were going to get a break.
Ranma's smile widened.
Today there would be no spiral training. He'd save that reinforcement exercise for later in the week. Today was left for matters of a more feminine nature. The smile slackened a bit as he was forced to confront the necessary evil of being a kunoichi instructor to a trio of girls. Today was going to be dedicated to kunoichi matters and much as he wasn't looking forward to it, he had the body to play the part.
"What are thinking of, kit?" The orange haired girl at his side spied the wide range of emotion flashing across his face while wondering where her next entertainment might come from.
Ranma sniffed at the inquiry, especially from who it originated from. "Just wonderin' how much I'm gonna regret this side trip to ninja town before it's all said and done."
"Perhaps as much as I regretted mine," The teenage avatar of Kyuubi chuckled darkly, causing the martial artist to glance over as they continued to amble down the street. He cocked his head and forwarded the question that had been on his mind ever since she had gotten loose from her astral prison.
"Yeah, and why did you tear this place up anyway?" He wondered aloud. Kyuubi's girlish face took on an irritated look, but she posed her own question regardless.
"How familiar are you with contracts?"
"Eh, contracts?" Ranma stared cluelessly, prompting further annoyance from the creature maintaining pace beside him.
"Yes, contracts, little hanyou." She reiterated, now sounding as if she were explaining a simple concept to a preschooler. "The pacts between those of the corporeal realm and those of the spirit world?"
The clueless look persisted and Kyuubi produced a labored sigh. "Until you at least have a basic understanding of such matters, do not pester me. I am neither your tutor nor nursemaid."
Ranma simply rolled his eyes at the girl's sour attitude and decided to poke it with a stick. "Nah. Word has it you're something else entirely. What's the word I'm looking for here...?"
Kyuubi's previously round red eyes began to form slitted irises as she watched the boy put an indecisive finger to his lips. "Antagonize me at your peril, pup."
"Yeah, yeah." Ranma rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Like there's much you're gonna be able to do about it. Hell, I can't even kick your ass without popping that clone body of yours."
Kyuubi's cheek twitched as she considered her tactical options and the reprisals inherent in them. A shadow clone body didn't leave her with much. Fortunately, nine thousand years of existence provided her with many of them... As did Naruto's own recollections. Her eyes narrowed on a small cart and an elderly gentleman manning it. Steam rose from several burners, and a sinister smile crawled across her lips. Ranma noticed it and frowned, looking from her to the object of her attentions.
"What are ya-"
He never got the chance to finish as she broke ranks and crossed the street, dodging lazily around a rickshaw as she homed in on her target with a sweet smile. The old man noticed her as she closed, adjusting his spectacles with a pleasant smile. Ranma trailed after her with mild concern as the old man struck up a conversation with the potential customer.
"What canee do fer you, miss kunoichi?" The vendor drawled pleasantly and the teenage avatar of Kyuubi bounced eagerly.
"Oh yes!" She effused excitedly, scanning over the arrayed eats sizzling on his grills. "I would like five beef teriyaki stickies, six chicken yakitori..." Ranma blinked. The situation felt oddly familiar as he watched the girl track to the left, pointing out a stack of syrupy spheres. "...Ten mochi, five pork buns and another five stickies of the octopus balls."
Even the vendor was left blinking. "Er, to go?"
"Mmm-hmm!" Kyuubi-chan nodded as the old man packed her order up and handed over a modest sized paper bag with all the eats. Ranma starred longingly at it until he heard the next words out of her mouth. They were accompanied by a very evil smile. "And my boyfriendwill pay for it."
Ranma sputtered his denials but the girl was already walking away, humming a pleasant tune before partaking of her loot. Both stared after the pleasantly shaped girl, then turned to one another. The old man adjusted his spectacles. "Well, son?"
Ranma dug several tan bills out while cursing a certain female kitsune of disreputable origins, shoving a random amount that was sure to cover the purchase toward the street vendor before giving chase to the girl. By the time he had caught up to her only moments later, she was crumpling up the empty bag. The only evidence that it had ever borne foodstuffs of any sort was the stick rolling around her lips like an over-sized toothpick. The spent bag dropped to the ground in her wake, while Ranma sent a disgusted look in her direction. The kitsune girl pretended not to notice and continued to suck the juices from the stick.
"I'm beginnin' to see why they all hate you so much," Ranma noted bitterly, mourning the loss of his cash and the food to his own technique.
"Arriving to a battle of wits unarmed does tend to make for a sore loser," The kitsune quipped haughtily and discarded her toothpick, allowing the martial artist to fall in alongside. Ranma grumbled his discontent, but Kyuubi continued as if she wasn't aware. "You have much to learn, little hanyou."
"Ya keep sayin' that like it's gonna mean something to me," Ranma shook his head as they fell into more familiar banter. "Do I look part demon to you?"
The teenage girl suddenly stopped, fixing the martial artist with a queer look. She stared for another moment until Ranma tired of it. "What?"
"You are quite serious, aren't you? You do not realize...?" Kyuubi pressed, earning little in the way of comprehension from Ranma. She cocked her head curiously before a slow, fanged grin crawled across her face. Ranma's proportionate dread deepened with each centimeter it grew. She clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh, you are such grand entertainment, kit! Absolutely grand!"
"You aren't gonna tell me, are ya?" Ranma guessed almost sullenly. The pernicious smile all but confirmed her answer.
"And when the other monkeys find out, what a stir it will cause!" The demonic kitsune was almost bouncing now. "Of course I won't tell. Neither you nor the brat."
"Yeah, what fun would that be?" Ranma mentioned rhetorically and resumed his course down the street. Kyuubi skipped behind him; far too eagerly for his liking.
"Exactly. You have a proper perspective on such things," She noted and continued to follow along. "Anticipation is something to be cultivated and nurtured."
"Ninja town keeps getting better and better." Ranma deadpanned his lack of amusement upon hearing her explanation and veered off across the street. He rounded a corner off into a side artery and immediately caught sight of his destination, causing his mood to further decline. It was a modest store front amongst others, featuring a sizable plate glass window and vibrant colors. It wasn't the colors that were specifically causing the martial artist's depression; rather what they were applied to.
Kyuubi's mirth settled back into curiosity as she noticed the boy's waning mood coupled to the proximity of the shop. A cursory study of the display within the window merely revealed the wares its owner peddled, not the source of the child's consternation. Why a purveyor of kimono and other such finery would cause the kit such angst was well and beyond her, but the reasoning behind it would undoubtedly prove amusing.
For as much as Kyuubi was amused, Ranma was not. This was mainly due to the fact that he would be walking into the store full of bright kimonos and picking one up himself, as well as the associated accessories to compliment that kimono. The fact that he had been the one to order it for himself only made matters worse. The pigtailed boy glanced from the orange haired girl to the kimono shop while grumbling internally.
Konoha's just full of necessary evils, ain't it? He rounded bitterly, but proceeded to advance on the shop regardless. One couldn't be an instructor of kunoichi without being a kunoichi, and this would simply be one more step down that particular path. Ranma sniffed with dry amusement from the privacy of his own thoughts. Konatsu woulda been a much better for this crap...
The door chimed with a small bell as he pushed it open and a black haired woman behind the counter immediately took notice, looking up from several sheets of paperwork. "How may I help the both of you?"
Ranma suppressed the flinch with the reminder that he had an audience, while Kyuubi-chan smiled sweetly at him. The martial artist sighed and committed to the follow through. "Yeah, here to pick up a rental."
"Which one?"
"The cloud and dragon one there in the corner," Ranma jabbed his thumb back in the general direction and the kitsune's eyes followed until they happened upon a white and red patterned kimono broken up by clouds and the gold trim of a dragon elegantly spiraling across its silk. Even she had to admit that it was a work of art, and the attendant immediately smiled.
"Of course," She nodded, sliding her paperwork aside in favor of a leather bound scheduling book in its place. "Your sister mentioned you might be picking it up for her."
"Good ol' sis. Always creating more work for me," The boy chuckled dryly, prompting the woman behind the counter to giggle. "Still need the requisition forms?"
The woman nodded again and he slid them across the counter. She made brief notes of them, flicking an errant strand of black hair from her vision to ensure their veracity, then signed it. She plucked the document from her desk and tucked it under the counter with a smile. "I'll be right back."
She was off across the store a moment later, giving the demon behind Ranma a moment to spare towards curiosity. "Such finery... Who shall it be inflicted upon? The monkey with the luminous mind? The one with the diseased eyeballs? Perhaps-"
"I'm inflictin' it upon myself, jackass!" Ranma snapped, whirling on Kyuubi-chan in irritation. The kitsune merely cocked it's head and stared as Ranma noted that his voice had suddenly heightened in pitch. The redhead looked stunned for a moment, but the moment passed and she mumbled yet another curse as she checked her hands and padded her body for the confirmation she really didn't need. "I swear I gotta be finding out what's causing this..."
"All boxed up and read-Oh?" The woman returned with a flat box wrapped in a silver bow. Accompanying the woman and her box was a mystified expression, since the girl who had placed the order to begin with was now standing exactly where she had left her brother. She glanced to the storefront, which nobody had entered or exited through. Suspicion found its way to her face. "You're not trying to pull a fast one on me, are you? My boyfriend is a Chuunin and if he hears-"
"No, no, no!" Ranma waved her off with slight panic at the misunderstanding while Kyuubi chortled softly from behind her. "It's uh.. eh..." Trapped and lacking a sufficiently plausible explanation, the martial artist reached for the one word that seemed to describe any unusual ability within the ninja village. "Eh, it's a bloodline."
The woman blinked, scrutinizing her closely. She then gave her an experimental poke to the breast, causing Ranma's cheek to twitch and a surprise 'oh' to spread across the shop keepers face. "I'm so sorry! Kyuo tells me about them on occasion, but he never mentioned this one!"
"Eh, yeah," Ranma started in dumbfound amazement at how easily the explanation was accepted. "It's, um... I try not flaunt it. Heh."
"It's quite exotic, wouldn't you agree?" Kyuubi-chan inserted innocently, and Ranma's head snapped around with wide eyes, unable to believe she was getting sandbagged so blatantly by the demon.
"Very!" The girl, nodded, looking Ranma over from multiple angles as if she were some exotic bird species. "What's it like? I mean to be both...?"
The redhead's attention snapped back to the girl, eyes wide and completely without a clue as to what to say. After all, nearly everybody else back home would already have their mind made up the instant they saw it. Pervert. Weirdo. Crossdresser. The bitter stings nipped at Ranma's thoughts, and it was such she didn't have a wrote answer prepared.
"It's like..." What came out instead was unthinking truth as Ranma struggled to sound somewhat informed. "Um, it's like looking through, ah, different eyes."
"Different eyes?" The woman behind the counter blinked and Ranma struggled to explain even as it felt like she was digging herself deeper and deeper. This could only end badly the more she spoke.
"Yeah, um, close one of your eyes," Ranma hastened to shore up her own logic and the woman closed her left eye, leaving the right chocolate brown one open. "Okay, now just take a look around. Close the right eye and open the left."
The girl did so and began looking around. Both eyes popped open with realization. "Oh! I see what you mean!"
"You do?" Ranma blinked. She wasn't even sure she understood her own nebulous explanation.
"You see things with a slightly different perspective in each body!" The shop keeper clapped her hands with her own cleverness and elaborated, quite pleased with herself. "Just like the eyes; at slightly different angles, but the same eyes."
"Yeah. You got it." Ranma deadpanned, thinking that the proprietor's explanation sounded better than hers starting out.
"A product of slightly different synapse structure and brain chemistry, no doubt," Kyuubi-chan added helpfully and both girls girls looked at her, barely comprehending. The kitsune noticed attention had turned to her after a moment. "Must play merry havoc with her neural... Oh, don't mind me. Please carry on with your mundane affairs."
The redhead and the brunette stared for a moment before the girl behind the counter simply shrugged. "I'll just ask Kyou about it when he gets back."
"Yeah," Ranma replied, staring at the Kitsune in full. The redhead gathered up the package without paying attention, while the orange haired demon stared back smugly. After a moment, the martial artist simply gave up, and returned her attention to the woman. "Back by Thursday, right?"
"No stains, rips, tears, burns any other of the multitudes of occupational hazards that go with being a Shinobi," She nodded, then took a heavy sigh, shaking her head. "And believe me, I know them all."
That, Ranma had to chuckle at. "Won't be taking it outside the gate."
"That's what they all say," The woman quipped and returned to an open notebook to scribble an entry. Ranma took that her cue to leave and did so, box in hand. The kitsune followed and she did her best to ignore her. She failed less than a block later.
"I hate you."
"Did you think my vengeance would settle upon the gnats of this village exclusively?" Kyuubi chortled, causing Ranma to emote a put out look. That too, lasted less than a block as curiosity got the better of her.
"Don't suppose you know what's causing my change, do ya?" Ranma asked cautiously. "Ya seem to know a bit about that sort of thing."
"I am a kitsune, dear whelpling." The orange haired kunoichi replied in a self absorbed tone. "It is my very nature."
"I thought your nature was just being a pain in the ass..." Ranma grumbled to which Kyuubi-chan spared a cheerful sidelong glance.
"Only for precocious kits who deserve such," She smirked, but continued none the less. "It is your chakra routing through that tangled mess the Elder monkey terms a seal."
"Which would be great and all if I could..." Ranma's voice trailed off as her brain made the mental connection with slight wonder. "...Control my chakra?"
"Ah, the smallest things cause lower life forms such delight," Kyuubi mused and the pair continued to walk, Ranma's mind miles away with the revelation.
"But I thought she said it was training." Ino complained as she accompanied her other two team members down the street. TenTen shrugged, unsure of the circumstances herself and watched Ino adjust and readjust the tan and gold flecked obi that wrapped around her white and blue pattern kimono.
"I thought so too." The weapons user sympathized and struggled not to fiddle with her own kimono; hers being predominantly navy blue, speckled with cherry blossoms.
"Then why did she tell us to come in these?" The blond balked and continued to adjust the variously restrictive parts that made up her current garb. She spared a moment to glance over at Hinata, who looked obnoxiously at ease in her silver and pink silk wrappings. "Well, Hyuuga girl? Any idea?"
Hinata shook her head, leaving Ino bereft of any significant clue as to what their mutual sensei had in mind... Except that she was a sadist. Or he was a sadist. Hell, they're both sadists!Ino decided from her thoughts while trying to divine Ranma's motive. The only thing she could picture in her mind's eye were spirals... Running around with sticks and drawing spirals in the dirt in their kimonos. The girl blanched at the thought.
"But my question is why the Choko Theater?" TenTen continued, her thoughts picking up where her blond counterpart left off. "Acting lessons?"
"If only." Ino huffed as the pair continued, reaching the end of the street and rounding the corner where upon the Theater came into immediate sight. If there was any doubt as to their arrival or they just hadn't noticed the large wooden placard denoting the theater's name, the presence of Kurenai standing outside was a dead giveaway that they had arrived to the correct destination.
"She's pretty." TenTen whispered upon spying the instructor's own sky blue kimono embroidered with yellow vines tracing across its length. It seemed to compliment her pale skin and red eyes, while her adult curves filled out the robe perfectly. Ino nodded while curiosity began to eat away at her.
"Hello girls," The red eyed kunoichi smiled slightly as they closed on the theater entrance, then motioned them off to a side walkway. "Around back with me, please."
"Um, sensei, what's going on?" Ino pressed, asking the question they were all dying to know.
"Saotome-san will be holding a demonstration," Kurenai replied while hiding the fact that she didn't know exactly what the boy was planning himself. Regardless, it always helped to keep up the appearance of omniscience for the genin, and continued on as if she did. "This will undoubtedly be part of your kunoichi training, and he has asked my assistance in acquiring the venue."
"A tea ceremony, sensei?" Hinata guessed as the small path they were traversing opened up into a modest courtyard with traditionally styled ochaya centered on the property that the shy girl recognized. The sight put her at ironic ease, as it and the kimono were formalities she was well familiar with in her own clan dealings. It was certainly a better omen than hand to hand combat or other similarly violent activities, by her estimation.
"Very good, Hinata-chan," Her regular instructor nodded and stepped up onto the aged wooden porch, beckoning them to follow as she slid the door open.
Kurenai's smile flickered into a frown.
The space itself was a spartan affair; Little more than tatami to walk upon and a kotatsu sitting in the center of a room already furnished with the implements required for the ceremony they were about to partake in, including a kettle of steaming water. That wasn't the cause of the frown. The cause of the frown was the tameshigiri audience surrounding the table at various points about the room. The crude paper smiley faces pinned to each target only enhanced the growing pit in her stomach, and she couldn't help but to notice the straw targets' placement patterns. Only some of them were positioned as 'guests'. Others were positioned by the very doorway she was entering through, as if to guard it.
Ranma Saotome was nowhere to be found in the room, though three pieces of paper sat to the side of the table on the ground, labeled 'Ino', 'TenTen' and 'Hinata' respectively with the word 'sit'. Kurenai schooled her frown into a neutral mask, but the setup had already made its impression on the girls filtering in behind her.
"I've got a badfeeling about this," TenTen whispered to Ino, who nodded in brisk agreement. Even Hinata, who had looked somewhat relaxed going into the house, was now uptight. Her solid eyes flicked from target to target, as if one of them were about to spring to life.
"Are... Are we supposed to sit there, sensei?" The Hyuuga heir pointed to their names timidly. Ino had a different reaction entirely.
"No way in hell I'm sitting there!" She hissed, backing up a step as if to emphasis the fact.
"I would sit there were I you, little morsel."
All eyes turned to find a kunoichi their age. Her eyes were red like Kurenai's but they held a subtle iridescent glow hers did not. Also unlike their instructor and themselves by extension, she had not bothered with a kimono. Instead she wore a red yukata with an interwoven design that spiraled with yellow fire. Her orange mane and malicious smile offset the visual theme, and there was only one conclusion the group could come to.
"You."Kurenai looked down at the seemingly thirteen year old girl as she stepped past her with an arrogant smile. Her hand eased subtly to a holstered kunai.
"Yes, me again," Kyuubi-chan smirked and took her place within the tea house, eyeing the younger girls. "Sit, for I value my entertainment more than your lives."
The pale kunoichi's cheek twitched with tempered animosity.
All three girls began to pale and TenTen's voice came out a bit higher than usual as she attempted to divert the girl's attention to less than lethal topics. "Weren't you... I mean, you looked... Older?"
"Do not bother me with trivial matters, monkeylette," The demon girl dismissed the observation entirely, and waved her toward their places with a kindly smile. "Now sit. Sit, before I devour you."
The girl's eyes widened and all three scurried into place. Kurenai cast a cold glare at the kitsune, whispering, "Continue this and I will disperse you here and now regardless of your arrangements."
"Did I offend your fragile sensibilities?" Kyuubi-chan mocked her with false sympathy, shaking her head. "Rest assured, I merely prod the kits to their places at the behest of the changeling."
The kunoichi was about to air her own rebuttal when the door slid back open, and Kurenai's retort died on her lips as the aforementioned changeling entered the tea house. She could only boggle at the girl that stepped across the threshold and had to all but force herself to associate the graceful, demure redhead before her with the brash martial artist she had insisted on taking this role to begin with.
Even the girls were entranced. The pig tail was gone now, replaced by a more traditional taka shimada hairstyle held together in an elegant knot and a pair of elaborate decorative pins. Just as the pigtail was absent, so too was any trace of the ego they had come to associate with their sensei. The girl before them was the antithesis of that person, taking measured steps across the room while keeping her own gaze conservative and low.
Ranma passed her audience without acknowledging them and rounded the table to take her ordained position. She smoothed the white and red of her elaborate dragon kimono out and lowered herself to the table with impeccable grace that only two people in the room would appreciate.
The first was Kurenai, who watched as the girl before them arranged the chadōgu implements in precise order upon sitting, washing each as if it were something more than a means to an end before placing it back into exact position as dictated by the ceremony. The team eight instructor watched carefully, denoting every step, executed with perfection she herself would be hard pressed to match. Kurenai knew she could perform the ceremony, but only because she was a kunoichi by trade. This girl, boy, changeling before her wasn't even that twenty four seven and it pained Kurenai to admit she would be hard pressed to duplicate the skill she was now a witness to, even if there was a slight discrepancy here and there. Kurenai chalked those up to cultural differences and continued to watch.
The second person was Hinata Hyuuga. Clan Hyuuga was stepped in tradition and one didn't grow up in Konoha's most prestigious family without such niceties being drilled into them... from birth. The shy genin knew exactly what she was watching: An art every bit as precise as the juuken; where any imperfection was its own pitfall. Her tutors had belabored the point with each mistake; that wars could be started or avoided through a tea ceremony, or the flawed execution thereof. Special castes were even dedicated to the art, and the Hyuuga employed their services on occasion. In short, Hinata Hyuuga's training was the best money could buy, which gave her a unique perspective on the ceremony unfolding before her.
To her awe, their ill mannered, abrasive instructor was quite possibly one of the best she had ever seen.
For Ino and TenTen, the event was more or less a spectator sport, though even they could appreciate the grace by which it was executed. They watched the tea measured out and whisked with precise care, even forgetting for a moment that the girl before them was quite possibly the bane of their existence. Kyuubi-chan watched it all from a different viewpoint. The age old demon could have cared less as to the ceremony or its significance. It was simply another useless ceremony amongst a myriad of useless ceremonies practiced by the various monkey tribes of the land, but this one was interesting. Not for the events playing out before her, but for the being practicing them.
That person was gone; completely subsumed by the creature before her as if the body truly was merely a shell. It was an odd dichotomy that the hanyou had so completely immersed herself in the task that the demon herself, a natural born shape-shifter, was hard pressed to tell her former ally from the person kneeling at the table.
Within ten minutes of the ritual, two cups of thick tea had been prepared and redheaded master of ceremonies bowed to her tameshigiri guest and gently proffered the tea to it. In lieu of actual appendages to receive the offering, Ranma set the tea down gently, completing the ceremony...
...And then killed everybody in the room.
As soon as the fragile cup was set upon the table, the girl exploded into motion at a speed that was nearly impossible to track. The fabric of her kimono swirled around her for a brief second before the motion settle with the redhead half kneeling and arms open wide. The girls and Kurenai literally had no time to react to the sudden burst of movement but the results of that two second flurry were readily apparently even as cascades of luminous red hair far too long to be natural drifted back down into place along her back.
Ranma's first tameshigiri guest was completely decapitated. If Kurenai had to guess, by the rigid obi the girl now wielded in her left hand like a sword. It was straight as an iron rod and had passed through the mat target like a hot kunai through butter. The three straw targets behind it also took slashing damage, two eviscerated at waist and deprived of nearly half a meter of height.
There was no way the obi strip could have reached that far.
The third member of Ranma's audience had taken a chashaku spoon to its paper forehead, embedding sixteen out of its eighteen centimeter length into the dense target. The guards manning the tea house door were also quite dead by any standard, since they, too, had taken a pair of head-shots courtesy of the kanzashi hair pins now growing out of their simulated face; one for each eye. The final two tameshigiri had only slightly more discrete damage inflicted upon them in the form of a salvo of senbon needles. There was little doubt the they were dead, though Kurenai suspected their placement below the heads were more than likely pressure points of some form. Paralyzing or lethal, it hardly mattered.
Ranma Saotome, sensei of special team thirteen had just eliminated eight targets in less than two seconds and had done so minimally armed.
The words 'holy shit' were just about to drop out of the jounin's mouth, but had Ino to thank for preempting her rather obvious display of unprofessional shock.
"WHAT THE HELL?" The blond screeched, her head whipping from target to target as their instructor recovered from her ending stance to smooth out the kimono. The obi suddenly slackened back into the consistency of actual fabric, falling limp in her hand to once again be retied to her person.
"Now Ino, please calm down," Kurenai tried to placate the panicking girl, who was now gaping at her own sensei, then turned back to the red eyed kunoichi.
"B-B-B-Buuut she killed that one with the tea spoon!" Ino sputtered, now more frightened of the redhead than ever before.
It was a rather unorthodox way dispatch a target, but it would definitely do the job. That was also the least of her concerns right now as she watched their part time kunoichi enigma produce a final respectful bow and removed herself from the room as gracefully as she had entered. The tea house door slid closed and Kurenai decided to take it upon herself to explain what the girls had just seen.
"What you have just witnessed was an assassination of a high level official and his entourage," The woman noted, wandering the space and around the stricken tameshigiri, pointing out their positioning. "The official, his advisers and body guards all dispatched by a single, minimally armed kunoichi posing as an elite geisha."
"Elite, huh?" The door slid back open, revealing the very same same redhead that had just performed. This one, however, was on hundred and eighty degrees away from conservative and demure. Ranma strode back into the room with aggressive grace and a smirk, dispelling the illusion further. "I think I like the sound of that."
Kurenai suppressed rolling her eyes with the unabashed display of ego in favor of actually trying to drive home the lesson. "As a kunoichi, your survival will very well depend on your ability to infiltrate, gather intelligence and assassinate targets without being detected; often well beyond normal support."
"But with a tea spoon?" Ino's cheek twitched, and Ranma shrugged.
"What? You think they're going to let you walk in some place like this with weapons?" The martial artist shook her head, motioning to their tea house environment as a whole. "Improvise, adapt and overcome."
"Ah, sensei?" TenTen raised her hand as if she were back at the academy. "Did you really cut through that target with your obi?"
"Anything Goes Iron Cloth," Ranma confirmed and demonstrated. This time her actions were slower than the blur from moments ago as she pulled at the knot and whipped the obi off her person to snap at empty air. Instead of slackening as expected, the silk fabric turned unyieldingly rigid. TenTen's eyes widened; her mouth dropping into a silent 'oh' as her intellect applied the technique to her own realm of weapons expertise. The redhead smiled at her reaction. "I'm workin' on an Iron Cloth combat style, but am still going to need a better handle on chakra to be able to teach it."
"What sort of combat style?" Kurenai asked with equal measures of curiosity and precaution; not for herself but the girls she would be teaching. Ranma seemed to consider the request and shrugged as if coming to a decision.
"Martial arts rhythmic gymnastics mean anything to you?" Ranma asked, prompting little in the way of recognition. The reaction was expected and she began to herd her audience to the far side of the room, then retied the obi to her waist. "Silk here ain't the only thing you can convert to iron cloth."
The redhead raised the sleeves of her kimono, revealing her forearms wrapped in ragged white cloth, She began to loosen its tension. "'Nata's cousin gave me the idea. Stand back."
The girls did so and watched as Ranma thrust her arms straight out to her sides in preparation. the wraps hung loose around her forearms and their special instructor took a deep breath.
"HiiiYAH!"
The part time kunoichi pivoted back into an impossible blur once more and the cloth unraveled in her wake, creating a wide, graceful arc behind her guiding hands. One of the arcs intersected with a previously stricken tameshigiri to slice cleanly through it. Its bisected length was only beginning to slide away when it was slashed again by another cloth loop a fraction of a second later. Targets two and three were next as Ranma changed the pattern of the whirling chaos. The razor storm descended onto four, five and six even as the previous victims died, and her technique end with an audible snap as she jerked the cloth into a straight edge.
Ranma's arms fell to her sides with a rippling crack; the final two tameshigiri behind her person having been impaled by a pair of fabric spear points that lanced through what would have been the chest of a real person. She held their position for a moment and jerked them away, finally allowing the cloth to return to its regular, malleable state.
Silence reigned for the next few seconds until one of the girls worked up the nerve to speak. Surprisingly, it was Hinata. "You... You're going to teach us how to do that?"
"Don't see why not," Ranma commented easily as she rolled the bandages back around her forearms. "Chakra will have to wait, but we can get started on the form right now."
"Sweet!" Ino blurted as her special instructor turned back to the door. Her enthusiasm withered and died with the redhead's next words.
"Just wait here while I get some rope."
"There's talk going around." Kurenai mentioned. Were one looking at directly at her they would notice a relatively neutral expression inhabiting her pale features. This would not be unusual for the Jounin instructor, save the fact that her eyes darted up and down every now and then as she watched the training play out before her.
"Oh yeah?" Ranma sat on the log next to her, likewise watching the training occurring about practice range number three. Her blue eyes bobbed up and down in time with the kunoichi next to her. Unlike her counterpart a slightly crooked smile rested upon her face as she supervised the activities of special team thirteen.
"Some of the other council members," The pale kunoichi nodded. Her eyes bobbed up once more and then she winced, cocking her head. She sighed. "There have been doubts expressed."
"YOU BETTER DO BETTER THAN THAT, TEN! I WANT SQUARES THIS TIME!" The redhead leaned forward aggressively, hollering out before leaning back to resume the conversation in a more civil manner. "What are they sayin'?"
Another wince crossed Kurenai's face, her gaze having never left the field. "That your training methods boarder on cruel and unusual."
"I grow tired of waiting, little hanyou."
"Give 'em another five." Ranma glanced to her right to placate the kitsune girl. The Team Eight instructor watched the demonic avatar huff her dissatisfaction, but returned to watching the girls as the Kyuubi's handler continued. "You think this is cruel and unusual? You should meet my old man."
"What about him?" Kurenai asked idly as she tracked each of the three girls, bound by rope so their movements were heavily restricted. Only their hands were free to twirl frilly gymnastics ribbons in shapes directed by the redhead beside her. Their feet were allowed movement too, but only to facilitate movement using their toes.
"His idea of speed trainin' was chucking bee hives at ya to dodge the buggers."
The twenty-some jounin actually frowned. "The more I hear of the man, the less respect I hold for him."
"Don't get me wrong, he taught me half of everything I know," The girl shrugged, then cast a bland look to no one in particular. "And was the cause of the other half. The half after that is just plain bad luck, I guess."
Kurenai thought about mentioning that his halves would equate to one hundred fifty percents' worth of training, but decided to let it pass in good taste.
She couldn't have known the number was probably more accurate than not.
"My hands are getting tired, sensei!" Ino whined from across the field. The gymnastics ribbon hung limp in her bound hand and the other girls agreed with her complaint with emphatic nods.
"I guess they're right," Ranma commented agreeably. She turned a glance to Kyuubi. "Waitin's over."
Kurenai watched with concern as a malicious smile crawled across the seemingly young demonic girl's face. "I'm coming for you my little morsels!"
"What?"
"N-No!"
"Stay away!"
A thin line of chakra snaked within Kyuubi-chan's grasp, taking the shape of chakra whip. She gave it snap to demonstrate its use to the girls, who immediately attempted to gain distance between themselves and Ranma's psychotic sister. 'Attempted' was unfortunately the key word as the restraining rope applied to them at the beginning of the session hampered their movement to a large degree. In fact, they couldn't actually walk or run, prompting them to squirm and hop away at best speed.
"USE YOUR TOES LIKE I SHOWED YA!" Ranma yelled the advice, and her team desperately tried to revise their movement methodology as the kitsune sauntered onto the field. The chakra whip cracked again and the chase was on.
"I might be inclined to agree with the others at this rate," Kurenai mumbled, but not so low that Ranma couldn't hear and inject her own thoughts on the matter.
"Nah, don't worry about her," The redhead commented, motioning to the orange haired demon chasing her students around the field. "She won't hurt 'em."
"And how can you be so certain?" The kunoichi wondered with a healthy amount of skepticism evident in her voice. This was, after all, the same demon that had all but destroyed the village not so long ago.
"You guys kept her in solitary for thirteen years," Ranma shrugged, monitoring Kyuubi's antics for herself. "She's ain't gonna jeopardize her freedom to screw a couple of kids over."
"Implying there may be something she would jeopardize it for." The red eyed nin narrowed her gaze on the kitsune pursuing the children.
"That's why ya got me." Ranma added, unable to disagree. Her own expression was as neutral as Kurenai's now.
Kurenai nodded, silent for a moment before deciding to turn to lighter topics. Her study turned upon Ranma herself and the luxurious red mane she now bore. "So, about your hair..."
The martial artist sniffed, fingering the red coils that draped over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Unwilling to tell the whole damn story again, she substituted bullshit instead. "S-rank technique. If I told ya I'd have to kill ya."
The nin blinked with slight disappointment. It really was beautiful, but had little choice but to take her charge seriously.
Naruto had never seen death before. In spite of his proclamations to be Hokage and unrivalled enthusiasm, the boy had never set foot outside the village and had never to consider his own demise. There had been the local violence directed at his person, of course, the reason for that only becoming recently known. People were scared of what was inside of him and he had seen a beating or two growing up because of it. Even so, other nins usually intervened before it got too bad and Naruto Uzumaki never truly feared for his life...
...Until now.
Until Kakashi-sensei was ripped apart before his very eyes by a razor linked whip.
"One down!" One of the masked nin proclaimed, and both turned their sights on the next preplanned target: The blond in the obnoxiously bright orange jacket.
The only thing Naruto could really see was their eyes as they focused on him, but there was only one thing of note they contained: his death.He froze. A shadow passed over him and Sasuke was already in the air, shuriken in hand. The last Uchiha hurled it even as the razor whip approached its apex and managed a hit, entangling the projectile in its coils even as he retrieved a kunai. His next throw demonstrated why he was the first in his class. The point found the star's center, lodging itself into the gap and carrying it and the whip back on the momentum to embedded itself into the nearest tree three meters behind the nins.
The missing nins pulled at their whip, only to find it now anchored to the tree at their backs. A second yank yielded the same result as the first, but it did give Sasuke the opportunity to engage them directly. The academy's number one genin landed nearly on top of them and prepared engaged the pair directly.
Sasuke's first punch slammed into the side of the first nin's cheek and the meaty slap broke through the paralysis that had seized Naruto's brain. Two targets, close range, fully occupied. Anything goes.
A month ago, Naruto Uzumaki had little in the way of specialized hand to hand combat training. Even in the academy, most of the instructors did the absolute minimum to ensure that the blond trouble making jinchuuriki wasn't a black mark on their performance reviews. Had they actually invested the time and effort to train the boy properly, they would have realized that the son of the Fourth Hokage of Konoha was easily capable of learning the curriculum; all the way and up to forbidden S-Rank techniques. Their prejudice and shortsightedness ensured they wouldn't.
Somebody else, however, did.
The slap of Sasuke's fist against the right missing nin triggered Naruto's reflex memory almost against his will even as the words of his early morning instructor echoed through his consciousness. 'Mobility is eighty percent of your battle. If they can't get to you...'
...They can't hurt you. Naruto Uzumaki committed to the reflex in full and stepped inside the metal talon grip that had been extending toward him even as Sasuke continued his two pronged assault. Their attention was on him, giving Naruto all the time in the world to line up his kick and take the right nin's knee cap out as the open salvo of his own combination. A hiss of pain accompanied the hollow pop, and the nin's balance was terminally compromised. Sasuke rained his punches in from on high. Naruto took him apart from the inside, unleashing several heavy blows in an attempt to break the rogue nin's ribs before ending with left arm, shoving an open palm through the elbow's reverse to render it just as useless.
He had also remained inside the nukenin's combat radius for too long and failed to heed Ranma's next bit of advice: Get in, get out. The right arm was still fully functional and the nin himself a veteran used to pain. Even as he fell to a knee, he still had the sense to take advantage of the fact that his opponent was still within the range of his razor gauntlet. The hard slice came in even as Naruto was congratulating himself; the flash of sunlight out of the corner of his eye being his only warning. It was enough to ensure that the nin's swing wasn't decisively fatal, however.
The blond genin kicked back and was raked across the chest by four of the five razor fingers seeking to gut him outright. Naruto's orange jacket was ripped wide open and blood sprayed with the gash. Pain coursed across his torso as he recovered from his own roll out, panting. His opponent was struggling to remain upright, giving the genin a moment to track the rest of their fight. Sasuke had moved to interpose himself between the other nin and Sakura, who was bodily protecting their mutual client. The nin charged the trio, his gauntlet slicing through the air. Naruto want to scream a warning, anything to stop the obvious outcome when a blur took shape in front of the trio.
The attacking nin tried to pull his attack at the last second but was already well within Kakashi's reach. Naruto only saw a blur as his opening combination caught one of the arms and used the nin's own momentum against him, slamming the man hard to the earth with seemingly little effort. The ground buckled with the impact and the man was out cold. A single, lazy eye turned on Naruto's opponent.
"With that knee, I don't think you'll get too far." He commented, walking around his blond student. "How about you just surrender and call it a day?"
The nin scrambled for some form of offensive action. The Team Seven lead blurred, instantly reappearing next to the crippled nin to deliver a heavy handed chop to the back of the neck. The nukenin fell over, just as unconscious as his ally.
"Guess not." Kakashi deadpanned, looking back to check on Naruto. "Hidden Mist nins. Normally I'd worry about poison from something like that, but it's not deep and bleeding pretty freely. Still might need to get it wrapped up."
Naruto brought a the hand clutching his own chest out and stared down at it. It was dripping with blood, transfixing him. Another quick glance over at his chief rival revealed barely a hair out of place, and here he was covered with blood! Was his own skill level so far below that he could barely-!
"Naruto." Kakashi stated, noting the boy's thousand yard stare. The blond was still transfixed by his own bloody hand, forcing the instructor to repeat his name with more force. The genin blinked several times before finally focusing on his team lead, who was pulling out a roll of bandages. "Open your jacket up. Let's see what we have."
The boy opened up what remained of his jacket, exposing the likewise torn black tee beneath. Kakashi ripped the useless garment away and began to apply the bandage by wrapping it around his torso, noting that whatever the wound was now, it should have been far worse. Regardless, he took the moment to debrief his team as a whole.
"Sasuke, good reactions," The boy had affected a superior look, at least until Kakashi continued. "Next time don't stand in one place for so long. That last nin was about to kill you. Same with you Naruto."
"Huh?" Naruto blinked.
"I wasn't expecting you to go toe to toe with a chuunin. Good job." Kakashi admitted, still somewhat surprised by the dead last genin's first field performance. Sasuke was less pleased by the praise as evidenced by the cold look he directed at Naruto. It went completely unnoticed. "But one second later and he would have had you cut in half. Never stop moving."
"Y-Yes, sensei." The still partially shell shocked blond nodded as the jounin finished up.
"Sakura, I didn't expect you to just stand there in front of the client," Kakashi continued, giving his work a quick inspection before rising to height. He collected the first unconscious nin by hefting him over his shoulder, then the second one in the same manner. He carried them over to a nearby tree as he spoke. "Maybe some sparring with Sasuke or Naruto will help your reactions."
"Sa-Sasuke would be fine." The girl stumbled over herself as her cheeks flushed pink. Sasuke emoted little more than indifference. Naruto was crest fallen over the choice, though the sudden stab of pain along his chest induced by his melodramatics forced him to pay the bandaged wound more attention.
Kakashi retrieved a length of rope from his pack and began to bind the Mist nins to the chosen tree. Several coils later he had secured them tightly, but had eyes only for his client who in turn began to fidget. "Is there something you would like to tell us, Tazuna-san?"
"Ah, you see," All eyes were on the older man now as he hesitated and adjusted his kasa. He glanced at the nins who were only beginning to regain consciousness. "It's about this mission..."
Iruka Umino flipped anther page of the book he was studying, then glanced up at his current charge, one black haired teen that could have easily passed as one of his students if not for the fact that he was a seventeen year old in a thirteen year old body. The instructor took mental notes and glanced to the girl standing by next to the boy.
"Vishuddah three?" He inquired, and Hinata's finger traced up Ranma's chest to his throat, pinpointing a spot on the left side of his neck, resting the tip of her index finger lightly on it. It was much easier to find now that the red length of hair was absent from her instructor's person, and she couldn't help but to wonder if it had disappeared with the gender switch.
Ranma tried to glance at the hand on his neck, then Hinata, then Iruka with a bland look. "This is gonna hurt, ain't it?"
"It won't be pleasant." Iruka confirmed and turned back to the book, his own finger gliding down the text until coming to stop on a relevant section. he continued reading for another few seconds before returning to the Hyuuga heir with a look. "Do it."
The sharp poke was nothing to the martial artist who had endured the blows from the best martial artist the world had to offer. The spike of chakra closing the tenketsu along his neck damn near drove him to his knees with the unexpected pain. Ranma stifled the yelp that threatened to escape his surprised lips and rode the agony out, sucking down air in rapid breaths as if it were about to become a scarce commodity.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Sensei! I didn't mean to..." Hinata's desperate run-on apologies went unnoticed and it wasn't until Iruka began to pry his grip from the desk did the martial artist realize the crest of pain had subsided into an acute ache.
"Ranma?" The instructor prodded the boy, then began to loosen the fingers that had clamped into the student desk he had been sitting at. The fingers proved to be surprisingly immobile, but the child's awareness was back in the real world now and his hand suddenly snapped free. The crushed splinter of desk edge raised an eyebrow, but Iruka turned his attention to ensuring that his chakra student hadn't sustained permanent injury. "You're still with us, right?"
"Dammit that hurt!" Ranma blurted, causing the girl beside him to cringe. "Even worse than when the old man taught me the snake fist! With real goddamn snakes!"
"I hope I didn't... I mean I won't do it again..." Hinata stammered, prompting Ranma to blink at her.
"You did exactly what I asked," He overrode her with a strained smile, then yawed his neck in adjustment. "Is that what it feels like if your cousin connects with the trigrams thing?"
Hinata nodded timidly. "Yes, sensei."
"And closes down the chakra pathways," Iruka added sympathetically. He had never heard of anybody voluntarily undergoing tenketsu closure, but it had been their only substantive idea thus far and the boy had jumped on. Maybe he'll have enough sense to try something else, the academy instructor thought to himself as Ranma continued to rub the sore spot. "Perhaps we should find an alternate-"
"Gonna have to learn that," Ranma mumbled introspectively before cutting Iruka off entirely. "What's the next one?"
"Ma- Manipura seven." Iruka did his best to conceal his verbal stumble at the hands of surprise by quickly consulting his text. He had known the boy was driven, but the Juuken was a feared art for a reason. Half that reason was the pain. It just so happened that the other half was the effect they actually sought. While the scarred nin had come to realize that Ranma was a very means to an end person, this bordered on ridiculous.
"S-Sensei?" Hinata hesitated, and Ranma threw a grin her way.
"S'kay, 'Nada," Ranma nodded, seeming to understand her hesitation. "Anything worth havin' is worth a little pain. Hit me."
The shy girl blinked, seeming to contemplate his words thoughtfully before turning back to Iruka. "Manipura... seven?"
And now he's even gotten the buy-in of the shyest genin ever, Iruka wanted to shake his head in amazement but instead nodded his confirmation instead. "Manipura seven."
Her finger seemed to trace along invisible lines above the blue of Ranma's tunic before coming to a stop along his abdomen, just left of center. With one last look, she formed the chakra spike and brought the pain.
Again.
And again.
All told, Hinata brought the pain a total of seven more times over the space of a half hour, and by the time she had finished with the final tenketsu, Ranma was a tense mass of strained muscle, raw nerves and sweaty disposition, panting with the exertion.
"Ya sure... Sure know how to show a guy a good time..." Ranma managed between pants, releasing the grip that had found its home at the desk corner. After a total eight tenketsu closures, it was little more than splinters. He failed to notice the Hyuuga's fierce blushing as he stood up, trying to uncoil his strained muscles through the healthy residual pain. "That was the last one, right?"
"Indeed," Iruka mopped the sweat from his own brow. Watching what amounted to a session of torture hadn't exactly been easy on him either. Every tenketsu seemed to ripple pain through the thirteen year old boy and he had to fight every instinct he possessed as an educator to stop it and instead let the process continue. "Luckily the next part is simpler."
"Kai?"
"Kai." The instructor confirmed the next step.
"Yeah, gonna have to give me a moment on that," Ranma huffed, still rubbing out the various parts of his body that felt like a somebody had stabbed him with a senbon multiple times in the same place.
"I'll prepare the genjustu then," Iruka nodded, and his hand flashed through a simple set of seals. Hinata's solid eyes suddenly began tracking open space and she opened her mouth to speak, only to be hushed by her former academy instructor. He put his finger to his lips and turned back to Ranma. "Remember, stop the chakra and pulse it. It will be flowing through a limited number of tenketsu so you should feel something. If you dispel the jutsu, that's just a bonus."
Ranma swatted lazily at a fly that had entered the room through the open window of the afternoon day. He was firmly focused on advancing his art, however and let the fly escape unscathed. "Let's do it."
"Just like the previous exercises then," Iruka nodded. "Just what you think you can do safely."
"I know I know, not like the first time," Ranma snorted at the lecture well worn in his mind and clasped his hands together, index fingers pointing toward the ceiling. "Alright then. Three, two, one... Kai!"
The world blurred ever so slightly.
That was almost unimportant compared to the pressure he had felt on the inside this time. This time the martial artist felt something like fire burning through his body and then dissipate; the first time he had felt anything of the sort before. He cocked his head, analyzing the feeling and committing it to memory before turning back to Iruka and Hinata. "I actually felt it that time."
"Oh, thank God." Iruka actually let a long sigh of relief escape, happy beyond words that something finally worked and that they wouldn't be plugging up any more of the boy's chakra points. He moved on to the next phase, turning to Hinata. "Do we know how long they'll remain closed?"
"Father-sama says a half hour on a regular nin," Hinata replied, almost steadily as she let the Byakugan slip way. Her face seemed to immediately relax as she discontinued the bloodline.
"So we might have a bit longer since yours aren't fully developed," Iruka assumed, continuing the hypothesis. for Ranma's sake. "We'll continue the release exercises, then. It should... And I stress should-
"Bein' that I'm the guinea pig and all."
"Er, yes," The instructor coughed politely at the horribly direct assessment. "It should help build your rei to usable levels, which can then be fused with the ki to actually mold chakra."
"Then let's get crackin'." Ranma crooked a smile, then nodded to Hinata. "Kurenai's probably lookin' for you. You've been loads of help though. Get going."
The girl nodded and was already walking toward the door by the time Ranma reformed his grip into the traditional hand sign to dispel genjutsu. Iruka smiled after the girl and returned his attention to Ranma. "Deep breaths. No reason to go overboard."
Ranma took the deep breaths again and dispensed with the traditional yell, forcing that wispy mass of warmth inside him to bubble. The bubble popped as he applied pressure and the world rippled for all of about a split second.
That, and his gut burned like Akane's left over yakisoba.
He winced with both the memory of that particular meal and the being so far removed from the girl, but there was little he could do about either and resolved to focus on today's particular goal: Building rei. As he would come to find, even that would prove difficult. Five releases would be his personal best before the agony in his midsection began to transition from debilitating discomfort to molten lava. Iruka theorized that the shutdown of so many major points was straining the secondary tenketsu too much and then threatened to call the med nins if he attempted another one.
It was a moot point anyway. The chakra points had already begun to reopen and the wispy feeling of rei under pressure had begun to dissipate as expected. The pain, however, did not. Iruka insisted it was time for Ranma and his thirteen year old gut to call it a day. Much as he was a fan of training, Ranma had to agree this once.
Five. Ranma chewed on the meager number as it related to his progress in developing honest to God chakra as he exited Iruka's classroom for himself, walking down the halls of the academy. An occasional kid ninja would run across his path without a care in the world, and Ranma couldn't help but to smile. Not a care in the world except learning martial arts and ninja stuff all day long. What a life, he chuckled internally, occasionally catching the glimpse of a class in session through an open door.
Of course, there was the flip side to that, Ranma realized as he came to the end of the hall and pushed the door open into the waning afternoon sun. Feisty little ninja kids grew up to be big bad ninja adults in a ninja eat ninja world. Even after nearly a month and a half living under in the same walls, it was a reality check of sorts. Most of his experience had come from something other than life or death circumstance. That only happened later, the pigtailed boy scoffed as he resumed the comparison. To some extent, his stay in Konoha had helped him realize exactly what his father had been hoping to accomplish with his unorthodox and sometimes plainly insane methods of training. He didn't have a ninja world to raise his kid in. No samurai. No feudal pressure. He had modern Tokyo where martial arts was being pushed off to the side like a hobby.
And martial artists of my caliber? Pfft. Ranma shook his head. Genma Saotome: slothful parental unit or insanely brilliant martial artist?
Or both, Ranma mused, as he continued along the stone path that led to the academy gates. The old Panda didn't have a ninja world, so he created his goddamn own for me? He shook his head as the very thought brought on ever more disturbing possibilities. Was his father really just a lazy eccentric, or was the entire training trip and his activities manufactured to create just the sort of martial arts pressure cooker required when one lacked the actual environment to fully develop a martial arts prodigy?
Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts stopped just short of the school gate as he fully considered the implications. He almost preferred the lazy eccentric angle, since the other alternative made him out to be a scarier man then he thought possible. And I still wouldn't know whether to kick his ass for it or thank him, the pigtailed boy sighed and opened the wooden gate. The question remained on his mind until he caught sight of just who was waiting for him outside and across the street. Ranma smirked at the person and decided today he would thank the old man.
Tomorrow might be a different story.
Neji Hyuuga certainly wasn't the average opponent by Ranma's estimation. In Tokyo, he would have been in the upper bracket with more than enough skill to give the average black belt a good pasting. Under the right circumstances and on a clear day, blue skies and his eyeballs up, he could probably give the pig boy a run for his money. Definitely the fiancées, though Ranma was all but certain the kid would fold with the first solid blow that landed.
The martial artist watched the teen in his light tan jacket and cargo pants tense upon catching sight of him, all but assuring Ranma that the boy had come prepared for a confrontation. Just not a martial arts one, he read the body language. And it don't seem like you're one to talk much, he decided and committed to the tried and true tactic of throwing his opponent off balance by moving into the offensive. Ranma made solid eye contact with the genin's white eyes, threw another layer of antagonism onto the smirk and crossed the street directly for him.
"Rematches are gonna have to wait," Ranma advised him straight out, causing the Hyuuga branch heir to blink several times in succession. "Got shit to do and not enough time in the day to do it."
The pain in his abdomen had nothing to do with it, either.
Ranma kept walking and after a moment's hesitation, Neji fell in step beside him, plying him with a question of self importance directly. "And what is so important as to deny a word with me?"
"Teachin' your sister how to kick your ass like I did yesterday," Ranma tossed a broad smile back at him and the sudden spike of animosity radiating at his back was its own reward. After a moment, it died down much to the Saotome's surprise.
"You're baiting me." Neji stated, as if he knew it to be certain fact. "Again."
"I call it an icebreaker," Ranma shrugged and kept walking while making mental notes as to the kid's insight. Too damn observant, he decided, resolving to be wary against him in future match-ups. Somebody like Ryoga he could goad into a Hiryu Shoten Ha spiral all day long. This kid? Using the same gimmick on him twice would be risky at best. "Doesn't make it any less true, though."
"Hmmf." Neji sniffed with plain contempt, looking down at the younger teenager he walked beside. "Then let me be plain. You made a remark about the Hyuuga clan head the other day."
"Sir Sticks-up-his-ass? What about him?" Ranma snorted with amusement at his own humor. The Hyuuga surprised him yet again by not just failing to rise to the bait, but completely failing to rise to the bait. In fact, he was now looking down those spare inches of height with a surprised look.
"Hiashi Hyuuga." Neji confirmed, still almost in awe of the complete an utter amount of disrespect the purported special team lead was displaying toward not only a clan head, but one of the most important clan heads in all of Konoha. "Why?"
Ranma stopped as he began to grow tired of the questioning. Neji stopped as well. "Why what?"
"Why do you not afford him the respect due his station?" Bewilderment was plainly evident in the branch heir's tone, and Ranma was all but forced to take the question at face value.
"'Cuz he's a stuck-up, overbred rooster." Ranma decided to give it to the kid straight. "Most people in his position aren't any better than the people they lord themselves over on, and I sure ain't gonna give him respect he hasn't earned."
"You associate his character with my own." It wasn't a question, but Ranma could see that the genin was seeking confirmation one way or the other. He didn't keep Neji waiting.
"You're kidding, right?" Ranma produced a dry laugh. "You look so far down your nose at people that you could probably stab 'em with it."
"What?" Neji blinked as the distinct sound of an insult perceived crept into his voice.
"Ya heard me." Ranma continued the verbal assault. "Hell, you and Hiashi could probably make it an S-class technique out of it. Nose-glare no jutsu or something."
"I'm not Hiashi Hyuuga." Neji managed, as if stunned and insulted the comparison was even being made.
"Thought you were his kid until 'Nada set me straight." Ranma shrugged and backed off just a bit with the verbal salvos as he slowly started to get a handle on the odd conversation he was having with the branch heir. "Ya act a lot like him."
Ranma's final observation had an effect, and Neji Hyuuga stiffened. He stared frostily at Ranma for a full fifteen seconds before finally replying bitterly. "I would thank you not to compare me with Hyuuga-san ever again."
Ranma arched an eyebrow at the sudden formality, but held his solid iris stare evenly. "I won't if you won't."
His milky white gaze narrowed as if bordering between cold indifference and anger before the teen turned on a heel and walked away, as if the conversation had never taken place. Ranma watched after the boy for a moment before shrugging. He really did have shit to do and finding out where a certain trouble making kitsune had run off to was at the top of that list.
Kurenai Yuhi waited just outside the Third's office as an advisor droned on about some reclamation project just south of the Forest of Death. The old man, not quite the age of the Hokage himself but still graying, prattled on about the necessary funding, manpower, and coming rains that would slow the project if it wasn't at least fifty percent complete by the later part of the year.
For his part, Sarutobi's answers could be heard through the closed door and they had started off as detailed questions, but soon lapsed into mono syllable acknowledgements as the advisor droned on. It was damn near putting the kunoichi waiting outside on the bench to sleep herself; such that she almost missed the Hokage wrap the meeting up; somewhat forcefully if she were to judge his tone.
His patience had obviously expired.
The door opened a few minutes later and the aging advisor backed out, bowing every other step until he had cleared the threshold. The robed old man spared her a look and left without another word, effectively signaling the beginning of her appointment. She looked at the folder in her hand and briefly wondered if it would go better or worse than the advisor who had just departed.
"Come in, Yuhi-san," His wizened voice called out, as if divining her thoughts. The kunoichi steeled herself for what promised to be a somewhat difficult session, thankful only in that her time waiting in the bland antechamber had come to an end.
"Hokage-sama," Kurenai nodded deferentially as she stepped through the door and into his office. It was the antithesis of the room she had just departed; its scrolls and artifacts balancing precariously on the boarder between organization and disarray.
"Please tell me you have something more exciting to report than land acquisitions, drainage plans and zoning permit requests to sign?" The Professor began, never even looking up from his desk as he read a scroll and signed it haphazardly. She closed the door behind her.
"The weekly Saotome report, Hokage-sama." She advised respectfully and the Hokage nodded briefly, replacing the brush back in its ink well as he rolled the scroll up and set it aside to accompany a stack that already occupied the left corner of his desk.
"A soap opera in itself," Sarutobi grunted, shifting in his chair. He adjusted the red and white robe to gain some measure of comfort. "Certain parties are becoming somewhat vocal concerning him, what he has in him and who he associates with."
"I've made him aware of his visibility, Sir." The red eyed nin finished carefully.
"Make him doubly aware then." He held Kurenai's with an unflinching gaze, his hands folded at his chin. "He doesn't have the clan protections certain others with more prominent names have."
"I will, Hokage-sama."
"Prove him to be a solid village asset and it will shore up my hand considerably," The Hokage relented, allowing his subordinate some measure of hope. "Teaching the genin new tricks, however won't be enough."
"Ah, about that..." Kurenai hesitated, earning the aging leader's complete and undivided attention for perhaps the first time since she walked in on the already irritable village elder. He arched an eyebrow and watched her toy with one of the clasps on her open body armor self-consciously.
"Will I be amused?" He asked, wondering what sort of news would earn anything but distant neutrality from the Jounin. Her lips parted slightly to answer the question, but hesitated again. Sarutobi just sighed. "Probably not, then. Let's see the report."
The woman placed the folder on his desk and he leafed through its contents. "Anything goes... Marital Arts Tea Ceremony training? Rhythmic Gymnastics? An S-Rank hair technique?" He wanted to smile at what had to be a joke, but he knew the pale woman in front of him almost as well as everybody else that had grown up under his leadership. If there was a joke to be had, it wouldn't be coming from her, and he waited for the other shoe to drop. "Alright, let's have it."
"We should consider a serious update to Saotome's file." Kurenai began somewhat tepidly. "His skills are... considerable."
It sounded like an understatement the way she said it, so he pressed for details. "Of course he's skilled. That's why we appointed her to train-"
"Hokage-sama, no. You don't understand," The jounin interrupted in uncharacteristically. "Whoever trained him... her... They trained her as a high assassin, quite possibly daimyo level given what I witnessed."
The Third's grab for his pipe ground to a halt as he considered the woman's words. He withdrew his hand back into the folded position at his chin and regarded her carefully. "I assume you realize what you're insinuating... That position requires a rather specialized skill set."
"Eight targets eliminated nearly instantaneously from different attack vectors using four separate techniques." Kurenai outlined as the Hokage took a closer look at the report in hand. "No killing intent, no preparation."
"Konoha hasn't had a daimyo level assassin since before the nine tails." The Third flipped through another page thoughtfully. "To penetrate that many levels of security her performance would have to be flawless."
"Aside from what I'm assuming are cultural discrepancies, she performed the part better than I could," Kurenai nodded. "I had a word with Hinata afterword. Even she was nothing short of amazed..."
"...And the Hyuuga employ nothing but the best for their etiquette training," Sarutobi nodded, noting the connection immediately. Still, there were reservations, and he glanced up to her with them. "Saotome isn't exactly known for finesse in my experience."
"For lack of desire or reason, I suspect," The red eyed kunoichi theorized. "The female form was forced on to her, but when given a reason to use it, her male ego was completely supplanted for the task at hand."
"Training our genin to be kunoichi," Sarutobi finished, to which Kurenai nodded.
"I don't even think she realizes just what that is," She continued. "She's got an ideal in her head; one I'm not even sure I have a handle on yet, and she's training them up to that ideal."
Sarutobi stared at his jounin for a moment, then glanced back down to the report, tapping his finger on its pages in thought. After a full two minutes, he returned his attention to Kurenai. "Then we need to know the length and breadth of that ideal. I don't have to tell you what sort of prestige we could add to our roster by once again accepting that mission class. Still, probe him. Her. Whatever. Skill is one thing. Psychology is quite another. Something tells me he might not be ready for what shewould have to do."
"Of course, Hokage-sama," The nin nodded seriously. "I'll have the 'Little Kunoichi' talk with her as well."
"Better you than me. Dismissed." He nodded and Kurenai bowed, departing the room to leave him to his own thoughts concerning a certain pigtailed martial artist.
Author's Notes: If you didn't know where we were in the continuity, you do now with the advent of the Wave Mission. Somebody noted some concern in a prior review that the fic is approaching my standard maximum build of about 10-12 chapters, and was worried that I'd be ending this pretty dern soon. Not so! We're only a month and change downrange of Naruto, day zero. There's still lots of ass to kick and two chapters isn't nearly enough time to kick it in ;) To assuage any concerns, I have solid plot out to at least the exams which is severalchapters away.
Iron Cloth; File this one under 'anything martial art related Ranma is exposed to he can learn'. Seeing as he learned the Umi Sen Ken after one exposure and some practice via his father to successfully defeat Kumon Ryu. Ranma already seemed to have a good handle on Rythmic Gymnastics before Kodachi's match.
Martial Arts Tea Ceremony; Learned within 24 hours, helping to substantiate the above.
Demon Brothers; Divergence given Ranma's help in basic training. I wonder what else will change? Hmmmm…
Bad Hair Day; By the end of the dragon whisker arc, Ranma's enhanced hair regen abilities were said to have depleted itself, a fact directly contradicted by the second movie where Cologne helps her style it in order to impress her kidnapper. As such, I'll simply chalk this up to convenience of plot and say the regen ability needed time to "recharge" after so much use in the manga.
Monkeylette; Materia Blades fault. /yoink!
Special thanks; You know the drill by now. Some DD, some MB. HolyKnight and a dash of #scarlet.