Hell is a Martial Artist
Chapter 10
By Ozzallos
"And then you said, 'I kept trying to tell you how I felt, but it always came out wrong!'"
Ranma cast a bland look at the girl on the bench across from him as she exaggerated her movements and dialogue into a form worthy of a play write. If cobalt haired girl perceived his disdain, it was largely ignored as she continued, swooping her arms skyward for the grand finale. "I LOVE YOU, AKANE TENDO!"
Ranma simply shook his head and snorted as Akane bowed to her invisible audience. "Like I'd ever say something gay like that."
"You did," Akane stated, sitting back down with an impish smile on her face. She retrieved her bento, only mildly surprised that Ranma hadn't finished off hers and his. She took the pink spiral of the fish cake in between the tips of her chops sticks and popped it into her mouth before continued with a superior smile. "I have witnesses."
"Jeez," He huffed with nearly as much exaggeration, rolling his eyes for effect. "Say something dramatic when somebody's havin' a rough time and it gets blown way out of proportion."
"Is that what you call it now?" Akane's humor dulled slightly with the memory, but she forced the smile back. Fortunately, Ranma had been too focused on his own bento to notice. "But seriously... What now?"
Ranma glanced over at her, his face betraying no comprehension. "What do you mean?"
Akane's face took on the slightest tint of irritation. "I mean what. Now."
Ranma wince, picking up the stressed syllables in full this time, and it was actually a damn good question considering how the day started.
"A tux, son! You have to dress appropriately for your wedding!"
Ranma nearly winced physically as he recalled how it started. Actually, it started with a wooden mallet to the head shortly after waking up courtesy of his father and Soun Tendo, who happily informed him that he was participating in the Japanese equivalent of a shotgun wedding after regaining consciousness. Perhaps even more shocking was that fact that the bride-to-be, Akane Tendo, was surprisingly willing... As opposed to being knocked unconscious herself and blaming it all on him like last time.
Their mutual day went progressively downhill from there.
By midday the pigtailed martial artist was dodging live steel, explosives, projectiles and other miscellaneous weaponry delivered via fiancées and rivals alike. The former were more than happy to sabotage the wedding in the final hour in order to keep their foot in the door, while the latter consisted almost entirely of Jusenkyo cursed victims vying for the only cask nannichuanin in all of Japan. While completely unnecessary for the groom in question, the wedding itself was transformed into a battle royale as both factions waged all out war in the dojo like something out a bizarre martial arts flick, which in turn force Ranma into a battle of possession just to contain the property damage. Nabiki, of course, happily collected the monetary gifts from well wishers and thrill seekers alike, who had received her wedding invitations from far and wide.
And somehow, in spite of the melee over the nannichuan, the fiancée brawl and devastation inflicted upon the dojo, they were here. On speaking terms. Actually joking with one another. It was a damn miracle in Ranma's opinion.
'Only question is how long it's gonna last,' A strand of pessimism inserted itself in his thoughts, but he pushed it back in favor of the positive. It was a nice change of pace all in all, and he'd be a fool to claim otherwise. Ranma's attention turned back to Akane's question and its implicit meaning with the only answer he had.
"Beats the hell out of me."
"'Beats the hell out of you? '" Akane's pleasant demeanor took on an unamused cast. "Not, 'I'll set the other girls straight ?' Maybe, ' I'll stop fighting with rivals at our wedding ?' How about-"
"Yeah, how about keepin' your sister from invitin' em all in the first place?" Ranma returned edgily with each bitter point his fiancée produced. "Seriously, Akane, what am I gonna tell 'em that an actual wedding ceremony didn't?"
"How should I know?" Akane's trademark temper surfaced as she bolted upright from their park bench, glaring at her betrothed. It wasn't at a full boil yet, but the martial artist knew the signs as she continued working up to it. "They're your fiancees! They're your rivals! You need to deal with them!"
"What, you think I asked for all this?" Ranma bit back, standing up as well . Akane wasn't the only one who had had it up to here and his ego had already taken enough bruising for one day. "You wanna lay all this at somebody's feet, talk to my old man. He's the one that spent most of my childhood tradin' my ass for crap he never intended on honorin'."
"Look... It's..." The girl's glare continued before its edge faded slightly. It was obvious she was still pissed, but Ranma held out the smallest hope that some of that had actually gotten through to her. In the end her angry visage took on the distinct look of frustration as she shook her head. "Just... Just deal with it. I don't care how, but I can't take another ceremony like that."
With that ultimatum, Akane turned away, making her way for the nearest street as Ranma watched with conflicting emotions. Dammit, he returned bitterly as she walked out of sight. 'Just deal with it.' Her words echoed in his brain. Each iteration was met with contempt. Her response had been surprisingly moderated given the situation, but there was an ever increasing portion of Ranma's mind wondering if any of it was worth dealing with.
"Another ceremony,"He huffed. 'If I wanted to get married, I wouldn't need to get beat down to do it,' Ranma grumbled as he recounted the day's events even as he dealt with the older wounds Akane's parting words had reopened. 'And what am I supposed to do about them, Akane? Kick all their asses when you can't even handle your own sister?'
The pigtailed boy sighed heavily, his sight catching a married couple and their two small boys strolling across the park near the swing set. 'Like that's gonna happen,' He snorted mentally at the mere thought of a normal married life. Ranma turned away from the scene, walking in more or less a random direction as his mind meandered in its thoughts. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it? She was cute and all, but...
'But it ain't enough,' Ranma sighed, letting his gaze turn skyward. Even the admission made from the privacy of his own thoughts felt like a betrayal. However, when it came right down to it, it was the honest to God truth. If there was one thing he had in abundance, it was cute girls tripping over themselves to get to him. Sure it did wonderful things for the ego, but in that singular moment of brutal honesty, there was little he could do but admit that it had ceased to become a deciding factor in their individual, overall attractiveness.
And that only left what was on the inside.
Ranma shivered at the thought. 'Ain't like they're bad people,' He revised, trying to put a positive spin on what was becoming a somewhat dark train of thought. They just had... Issues. 'And I'm at the center of every goddamn one of them.' There was only one conclusion he could realistically come to after everything that had happened today.
"Fiancées suck," He huffed, kicking a small pebble at his feet.
" A sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with."
Ranma's eyes snapped up to the familiar female voice, finding the Daimakaicho herself closing on his position with a smile and skin. Lots and lots of tanned skin held in check by a metallic blue mini skirt and a small, plain white lycra midriff. Both articles of clothing were attached at the navel by a golden ring, merging the two into a smooth line that only accentuated her visible curves. A smile cracked along Ranma's face in spite of his previous brooding as he imagined just how many people the woman probably killed just walking here. She paused next to him and Mara trailed behind nodding to him pleasantly.
"What's up kid?" She smirked, looking him over. "You a married man, yet?"
"Hell no," Ranma snorted, somehow not surprised that either Hild or Mara knew of today's disaster. "Close though. Real close."
"For what is wedlock forced but a hell, an age of continual discord and strife," The Grand Demoness quoted theatrically, causing Ranma to arch an eyebrow as she finished. She saw his questioning look and smiled. "Shakespeare, dear."
"Gotcha," The black haired martial artist nodded, chewing on the wisdom inherent in the verse before chuckling himself. "My old man and Tendo should take notes."
She smiled kindly and walked back over to Ranma's bench, spying the half eaten bento sitting on them. She turned back to the boy with a slightly more serious expression. "Though the Tendo child does pose a valid question. Sooner or later this will catch up to you again."
"Ya heard that too, huh?" Ranma asked rhetorically, though having the white haired woman broach the topic riled him far less than his temperamental fiancée. He could trust Hild's motives. Handling Akane and her temper was more along the lines of juggling chain saws and live explosives. In the end, he could only agree with Hild's assessment. "Yeah... Only thing that saved us were all the morons Nabiki invited."
Mara kicked aside Akane's bento in disgust and plopped down on the park bench to stretch out even as Hild's face took on an impish countenance. "You can thank me later."
That proud announcement caused Ranma to pause, as he scrutinized the grand demoness and her non-sequitur. "What?"
"Possibly less elegant than I would have preferred, of course, but time was short." She elaborated while the martial artist's eyes slowly widened with realization.
"You?" Ranma blurted, now unable to help himself. "But Nabiki said... I mean, how?"
"Please," She tisked, rolling her eyes. "What am I to do, let a fond acquaintance wallow in the dirge of marriage? She is an easily manipulated little girl; I merely suggested the possibility of selling the invitations in passing."
"Um, thanks." Ranma mumbled as he continued to stare at the woman as he had done since the revelation surfaced. It had been an overall unmitigated disaster in so far as the wedding was concerned, but an absolute stroke of last minute genius in terms of actually avoiding holy matrimony.
'And messy,' He added mentally, but couldn't help but to see the results favor the pros more than the cons. The heat was still on him to do something, and while Mister Tendo and Akane had made that abundantly clear, Hild had bought him precious time to find out what that something was...
...And whether he even wanted it for himself.
"Don't sound so enthused," Hild sniffed humorously for another second before lapsing back into a stoic expression that held the martial artist seriously. The personal space around her seemed to darken as her lavender gaze fixated on his person. "Still the tangles of fate are tightening around you, child. They will either guide or strangle you if not severed."
Much as he wanted to, there was no minimizing the Daimakaicho's dire warning and Ranma barely suppressed the shiver that had accompanied it. There was no ego he could fall back on to dismiss her words, and while he suspected the rest was just for show, it succeeded in driving her point home like a hot knife through butter. Her warning didn't suddenly conjure a solution to his problem, but it did succeed in bumping the topic up several notches on Ranma's priority list.
"Dammit," Ranma grumbled with the realization and shoved his hands in his pocket. He turned his own blue eyes back to Hild. "Any ideas, then?"
"Only the one I've advocated since the outset," She shrugged nonchalantly. The act seemed to dismiss the weighty black aura rippling in the air around her.
"Kick their asses, take your ball and go home." Mara snorted from the side, brushing a blond lock out of her face.
"That's the one." Hild nodded, now pleasantly amused by her subordinate's input. "They need you more than you need them."
"Like it's that simple," Ranma huffed, but began to seriously consider the complexity of the problem at hand.
"Simplicity is a remarkably fluid thing," Hild remarked and began to walk away from the park bench and across the grass toward the main path. Mara hopped off and the martial artist followed as she explained further. "And I suspect the more pain this situation causes you, the simpler your decision will become."
Ranma arched an eyebrow at her dire observation. "Damn. Really spreadin' the doom and gloom on pretty thick today."
"I'll not spare a close confidant his preconceived notions simply to salve his ego in a matter such as this." The white haired woman stated plainly, looking back over her shoulder. Her face scrunched slightly in irritation. "That, and my mood is possibly due to an influx of whiny middle eastern terrorist-types complaining about the absence of their seventy two virgins."
A slight chuckle burbled from the boy who melted into a girl with the laughter. Hild appeared not to notice, though Mara cocked her head curiously as the redhead continued with a smile. "Dip 'em in lava?"
"Fed them to the Shai-Hulud." Hild smiled in kind, causing Ranma to blink with the unfamiliar name. She glanced back to Mara with a wondering look.
"Think giant sand worms, kid." The blond supplied readily, filling the knowledge gap.
A silent 'ah' formed on Ranma's lips before she moved on with an impetuous smile on her lips. "I woulda fed them to a giant Phoenix."
"No, Phoenix are hardly regular visitors to hell and it would try my patience to..." Hild's automatic response tapered off as she realized just how successfully the girl had engaged her in the improbable conversation. She ambled to a halt and turned back to the impishly grinning redhead, staring for a moment before smiling. "And where would you obtain access to such a creature, hmmm?"
"Heck, just had one fly through two months back," Ranma motioned back over her shoulder to the ward at her back. "Ate a ton before we finally kicked it out, so I'm sure it wouldn't notice a few extras. If that ain't enough, ol' Herb can point me in the right direction."
"They'd be fall off the bone tender by the time the buzzard got done with them," Mara cocked her head as she considered the effects of claws, beaks and a supernatural avian furnace on its victims. Mara glanced over to Hild. "Your kid's pretty good at this."
Being good at things was something Ranma could take in stride. Being good at finding creative ways to torture people in the afterlife was something the martial artist was still taking on a case by case basis, and she was suddenly feeling uneasy about the very topic she had instigated; even if it had started off as a bid to divert Hild's attention from the grind of her daily routine. Hild merely nodded for her part, already knowing that her protege wasn't quite ready to take on that level of responsibility. It didn't make Mara any less correct, but the girl's indecision over the matter was easy enough to see. The queen of the damned decided a tactical counter-distraction was in order.
"On that pleasant note, I think some lessons in the magical arts are in order." The Daimakaicho commented, instantly diverting Ranma's attention. She paused with a whimsical look. "Unless you have better things to do?"
"Ya mean like listening to the old men bitch and get chased around by psycho fiancées?" Ranma responded dryly, Hild simply grinned back. The redhead rolled her eyes as she continued. "I'm thinking that I can clear my schedule."
"Then let's go meet your new instructor." The white haired demoness nodded and the trio was abruptly consumed by a gout of magical flame.
At that same moment approximately six kilometers west of their former position, another would be practitioner of the magical arts was putting the final touches on his project. Hikaru Gosunkugi was by no means a master of the dark arts and to date, had seen little success in the craft. When voodoo hadn't worked, the socially inept teen had turned to technology. When that hadn't worked, he had begun the search for more potent magicks; the big guns as it were.
The pale, sleep deprived student put the finishing touches on the circular array of seals with a piece of worn chalk, glancing back over to a thick leather tome for reference every few seconds to make sure his depiction was accurate. A dusty chalk finger plucked at the page and turned it, his eyes scanning the next ancient illustration that had been crudely inked in by some scholar centuries ago. The book itself was a monumental find, especially for somebody who had fallen victim to all sorts of scams and dead ends in his quest to delve deeper into the shadows of magic.
This particular book- he still couldn't read the symbols on the cover -had been found at a rummage sale hosted by a local temple. Something told him this wasn't supposed to have been set out with the other miscellaneous clothing and random appliances to be picked through, but even his amateur recognition of all things magic determined what was laying on the table. One blind rummage sale proprietor and a thousand yen later, it was his.
Parents are out, check. Hikaru looked around the small space he had cleared on the porch of the apartment's meager balcony. Even 'balcony' was perhaps too generous a term for the patch of real estate that his mother used to hang dry laundry, but it would serve his purposes. He then checked over his remaining supplies, glancing over to a clear glass jar filled with viscous crimson fluid adjacent to the chalk sealing array. Beside that several accompanying herbs held down by rocks sat, lest the wind from living on the fifth story blow the items away.
Chicken blood, check. Five stems of Belladonna, check. The junior classman continued to run his finger down the page and its crudely etched kanji, verifying that his preparations were complete. He paused at a block of text, which in turn caused him to scramble up, race back into the house and return only minutes later with a ruddy brown cloth bag. Hikaru Gosunkugi settled back into position, dumping the contents into the circle. Bones of a predator, check.
In this case, a neighborhood cat.
Candles, candles...the timid student squirmed in locating the wax lengths behind him and an accompanying book of matches. He untied the string binding five of them together and began setting them strategically around the array. After the fifth one was in place, he stepped back, admiring his work while simultaneously comparing it to the books crudely drawn illustration on the next page.
With a final nod of confirmation, he struck one of the matches and began lighting the candles, mumbling the chant principle to this particular summons. The flames flickered with the breeze but stayed lit, and he reached for the herbs next, setting them to the candle flame before throwing their smoldering lengths into the circle. The amateur sorcerer continued his chant in an uneven cadence and gathered up the jar, unscrewing its lid and dipping his fingers into the crimson fluid. Hikaru almost dry heaved right there as his fingers were enveloped by the blood, but he managed and began to slowly pour the jar contents along the outer edge of the circle.
The jar had emptied and he was on his second refrain, yet nothing had happened. The junior glanced back at the book with seeds of doubt, but continued as the circle smoldered with his work. It wasn't until the third repetition that something happened. Gosunkugi's eyes widened as the candle flames that had been on the very edge of blowing out in the breeze suddenly stiffened and brightened. He took a hesitant gulp between stanzas but continued. The deadly nightshade promptly burst into flames with the next verse, consuming the accompanying feline bones in an unnatural red blaze.
Last verse,Hikaru tried to steel himself with confidence he didn't have. Still, the fact that he'd even gotten a reaction was an amazing first and he yelled the last words that would finish the summons.
"Avada Kadavra Crucio!"
What had been a campfire burning in the middle of his parent's balcony suddenly roared, expanding like a violent fireball that would all but assuredly kill him and everything for fifty meters outright. The unnatural blaze reached out to engulf him and his bladder relaxed in terror. He held his arms up to ward the fire away and shut his eyes, knowing his parents would find little more than a cinder of his remains when they returned home. Heat roared and Hikaru Gosunkugi waited for the end.
And waited.
From behind his shielding arms, the student's eyes blinked open after several seconds. It took another moment for the boy to realize that he was not, in fact burnt to a crisp and that the balcony that he was curled up on in terror still remained. Hikaru slowly uncurled from his protective shell, and looked up.
"GAH!" The boy practically squealed in terror and scrambled back, pressing himself into a corner in a lame attempt to hide behind his mother's meager collection of flower pots. A pair of burning, flame-lit eyes stared down at him. The eyes themselves were owned by something with four horns, many jagged teeth and a body made of pure red muscle. It's left claw flexed and the broad sword points that represented its talons hissed together with the promise of whispered death.
Hikaru Gosunkugi whimpered in terror.
A girl.
Not quite, Ranma corrected himself as he watched the young schoolgirl eyed him with thinly veiled boredom from her well cushioned crushed red velvet chair. The chair matched the room's overall theme of decadence and even he himself sat on an obnoxiously expensive seat as a girl several years his junior interviewed him; her attention wandering from a thick old book on her lap and his person.
"First we must establish a baseline, Saotome-san." Her child like timber carried with it an undercurrent of knowledge and experience. Yes, she was a girl. Ranma could see that plainly enough. A girl in a black gothic dress with frills and matching gold buckled heels. That, however, hadn't fooled him for one moment since her bearing was anything but.
"What do you know about mana?"
The martial artist shrugged, pulling at his meager knowledge on the topic. "It's like ki. Can be manipulated into doing all sorts of stuff."
"In other words, nothing." Evangeline McDowell finished for him in the most disinterested tone possible, causing Ranma to frown. She looked up from the thick book she had been absorbed in reading for the first time. "Tell me again why Hild-sama sent you to me?"
"Ta learn magic." Ranma stated simply, trying to reign in his temper for the benefit of his patron.
"And how am I supposed to teach you magic if you don't even know what mana is?" She sighed with what Ranma suspected was a rhetorical question. He answered anyway, determined to stand his ground regardless of how old the girl in front of him actually was.
"Yeah, I'm thinkin' that's your job." He retorted evenly, holding her gaze as she stared her displeasure into him.
"So you are telling me that the queen of hell sent me, a True Blood vampire and master sorceress, what amounts to a rank amateur?" Her left hand delicately closed the book, and she sat back into the red chair all but radiating arrogance and boredom. It was slightly unnerving for the martial artist given the disparity between her physical age and elder attitude. Which's probably the goal to begin with, he suspected.
It also might have worked better for somebody not already familiar with bull-yeti-crane-eel curses. Ranma fixed an arrogant countenance for her benefit.
"I dunno,' He shrugged without a care. "Let's get her back in and ask her."
After a lengthy gaze of malcontent, the blond haired girl sniffed her contempt and began the lesson. "Mana is composed of the very fabric of reality. It is not ki. Ki is generated by those with lifeforce and is finite in nature. Mana and magic by extension is limited only by the skill of the sorcerer or sorceress involved."
The very fabric of reality? Ranma mulled over the statement as his intellect began to pick over the heavier implications therein. Would explain the curse, I guess, he thought, drawing on the largest influence of magic as an example. It wasn't just a trick of some sort. It was literally changing reality; in this case his very gender.
Evangaline watched the boy think, idly wondering what conclusion he would come to when he suddenly shifted into a curvy redheaded girl. The blond arched an eyebrow skeptically and the redhead suddenly shifted back into a boy. Then again into a girl. 'No doubt the surprise Hild-sama had hinted to,' she surmised curiously and watched the transformation happen two more times before the settling back into that of a female. The teenage girl's blue eyes focused back upon the vampire's person and this time she could see the gears turning.
"But ain't that sort of dangerous?" It wasn't the question Evangaline had been expecting. So much so that it bypassed her normal urge to produce a witty response that would invariably insult her student in some way, shape or form.
"All magic is inherently dangerous. How do you mean?" The blond girl asked, if only to probe the depths of the child's intelligence.
"Well, ki can be dangerous but you really gotta work at it to even use," Ranma mused, kicking the topic around aloud. "It just doesn't come overnight. If magic is just out there for the grabbin', any sort of idiot could get in trouble with it."
It was a rather insightful observation for somebody she had ranked as less than an amateur in the magical arts; one that allowed her annoyance over being used as the former boy's tutor to slip a fraction. Also evident was the fact that the child was obviously familiar with dealing with power, if not magic. Hopefully It will make this farce a tad more bearable, she groused but answered the girl's question regardless.
"Magic is indeed a rather low hanging fruit." She admitted with a nod, opening her right hand. It was empty at first, but the space swirled into a foggy mist that condensed quickly to form a floating shard of ice. Ranma leaned forward with interest, studying the process as she continued with the explanation. "Anybody with even a mote of talent can pick it, though it takes study and practice not to reap a disastrous harvest. History is replete with fools stumbling across magical tomes, only to destroy themselves for lack of wisdom and knowledge."
"I'm thinkin' I know those people," Ranma loosed a dry chuckle.
"Then by all means, gift them with some book of dangerous magic," Evangaline smiled almost pleasantly and let the ice crystal drift from her palm. It took to the air, lazily orbiting her person. "They will invariably summon a Grue and likely be devoured by it."
'Or take a wrong turn ta China,' Ranma added mentally as she was forced to concede just how true the vampire's words were. "Hild-san's got half a library filled with those sorts of books. "
'Such dangerous familiarity,' Evangaline observed of the girl who in spite of her association with Hild-sama was not a supernatural being or demon of any sort. Apart from the gender oddity, he and she read as a normal human; as normal as most of those attending Mahora Academy. Her familiarity with the Grand Demoness of Hell, however, was anything but normal and even slightly disturbing. 'Added to the fact that Hild-sama is willing to grant me a boon for her training...'
...A boon she so desperately wanted.
With that thought firmly in mind, the underage vampire continued as if conducting a school lecture. "Magic bends these universal forces to the will of the user, enabling feats both great and small. Some of the more well known examples you may have heard of: Lead transmuted into gold, the Fountain of Youth, etcetera, etcetera."
'...And goddamn wishing swords, and Nanban mirrors and dragon whiskers and reversal jewels,' Ranma groused mentally, compiling her own list as the woman continued the lesson.
"There are various ways to invoke these universal forces: Hand seals, words of power, runes; generally some catalyst that allows the caster to focus on the task." The blond haired girl explained, patiently traversing the room over to her student. "These methods are generally dictated by culture. Europeans have a fondness for vocalization, where as Asian schools have a penchants for hand sealing. Since you will be my pupil, you will learn the former."
"Can't you just think 'em?" Ranma inserted the question, instantly recognizing the tactical disadvantages in either method. You could stop a person from speaking. Hands could be broken. Evangaline responded with a simple nod.
"Yes, though it is recommended only for the most basic of spells since the mind is incredibly easy to distract." She explained, walking around the back of redhead's sofa as if to study her like an insect. "Whereas committing thought into action requires more focus. There is less room for error and subsequent disaster."
Ranma simply nodded and the vampire continued. "Most magic is a combination of the elements: Earth, fire, water, wind, divine and infernal. With these, a sorceresses can accomplish nearly anything."
"Anything?" Ranma asked skeptically, which stood to reason since she had seen a lot in the last seventeen years of her meager life thus far.
"Anything. Floating for example." Evangaline's face took on a sinister smile and she snapped her fingers. "Furo-to."
The redhead felt the shift in gravity instantly, thought it took her another moment to realize the exact cause of the shift. By the time she realized what was happening, the martial artist was levitating nearly a meter off the ground. Ranma's eyes widened with the surprise.
"Hey! HEY!"
"The levitation spell is a combination of both wind and earth," She ignored her victim's protests even as the teen thrashed about in midair. "Can you tell me why?"
"How the hell should I know?" Ranma snapped, completely disliking the unfavorable tactical position she now found herself in. She had no hand hold, no inertia and absolutely no Newtonian physics in order to help position herself. "Wind ta shift me around and Earth to drop my mass, for all I know!"
The blond vampire girl froze, staring at the pigtailed teen floating above her person with wide eyes. That had been a remarkably accurate summary of the spell components; even more surprising from somebody without any formal education in the craft. "Perhaps you are not the lost cause you appear to be, Saotome-kun."
"Yeah, well that's great and all shorty, but ya had better be letting me down!" Ranma fumed. Her position and current orientation made it impossible to see the annoyed tick develop on her new sensei's face.
"'Shorty', is it?" Evangaline hissed, her blue eyes suddenly flashing with sinister intent. "I'll just have to teach you to display more respect to your elders."
"Yeah, like I don't got enough of-WHAAAAAAAAA!" Ranma's stationary position suddenly shifted violently to the side with the flick of the vampires hand. She went from zero to forty kilometers per hour in the space of five meters. That wasn't so much of a problem. The sixth meter, however, was another matter entirely.
CRUNCH.
Stone and mortar buckled as the martial artist slammed into it with little in the way of preparation. The wall cratered, but held while Ranma herself bounced off and flopped to the floor in a daze. The stars dancing in her vision were accompanied by an pernicious giggle.
The redhead shook her vision clear and found the girl entirely too satisfied for her own good. Ranma sent a blue eyed glare back at her. "You and me are gonna have words."
Evangaline's giggling stopped, but the smile was still there. "In that case, I have but one word for you."
"Yeah, and what word is that?" Ranma tensed, ready to initiate her own hostilities.
The smile gained an evil edge. "Furo-to."
Gravity lost its hold over the cussing martial artist once again.
Genma Saotome had a problem.
Several, actually.
One might assume his problems were mental in nature, and one would stand a reasonable chance of being correct if they did so. After all, how many fathers sold their child for a meal consisting of a bowl of rice and two pickles? They would also be correct in citing Genma's questionable parenting practices, such as throwing his child into a pit of starving cats or taking him to training grounds reputed to be cursed.
Those who raised their hands concerning Genma's current mental state were only partially correct. While he could be reasonably labeled 'bat shit crazy', the balding martial arts patriarch suffered from another debilitating disorder: Impatience. He had wheeled and dealed all throughout Ranma's training sojourn, thinking he could leave his misdeeds in the dust of the various backwaters they had travelled through. It was a mistake that would return to bite him in the ass again and again; today especially.
Today, the wedding had gone wrong. Not just wrong, but horribly wrong by Genma's estimation. Fiancees, rivals, property damage and even worse: a distinct lack of holy matrimony in spite of Akane's unprecedented acceptance of the entire affair. Of course, none of this could be laid at his doorstep. His son was too damn indecisive for his own good, especially when Tendo's youngest was practically throwing herself at him.
'Damn curse has made him soft,' Genma grumbled to himself from his rooftop vigil. Everything had seemed okay at first. Hell, he had watched the pair walk off hand in hand just after the crowd had dispersed and Soun said his piece. Something had changed, however. Akane wasn't angry per se, but her mood was off and Ranma wasn't around. Not good,the Saotome patriarch had since decided and gone searching for the boy to slap some sense into him. There was only one minor flaw in that plan, and that was the lack of a boy to slap sense into; as if Ranma Saotome had disappeared from the face of the Earth.
The notion wasn't far from the truth, actually.
It was also ridiculous, so Genma had simply assumed that his son had found a really good hiding place since he wasn't found with any of the other fiancées or his usual hang outs. 'And thank God for small favors,' He breathed another sigh of relief. The fiancées had always been a threat, and the balding martial artist was especially concerned that he'd find his son in one of their beds sooner or later, especially now that the wedding had fallen through. Still they were all accounted for and his son was not, which was far better that than the alternative.
'And when he finally does come home, he'll see the light,' Genma nodded sagely as he scanned the twilight's fading light for his son. 'Whether he likes it or not.'
The first signs of movement signaled the end of his hour and a half long watch over the Tendo property, though not in the manner he was expecting. Genma expected his son to hop over the property wall. Maybe try to sneak into the house from the back. There was also the off chance that the boy would engage him directly, which would only facilitate his offspring's eventual lesson.
What he hadn't expected was Ranma to use the front gate.
Genma blinked and adjusted his spectacles, watching the gate itself lethargically swing open to admit the boy. The father instantly knew something was amiss as Ranma took his first steps onto the property walkway. There was no energy to his gait. His clothing was a tattered mess. His very walk was bereft of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu. The elder Saotome came to the conclusion available given the facts...
...His son had gotten his ass beat.
Genma's jaw ground down at the very thought. Who, what, where and why didn't matter. What did matter was that there were now two topics on Genma Saotome's 'to-do' list: First, instruct his son on his duties as a husband. Second? Remedial hand to hand combat instruction. The part time panda dropped off the roof without a sound, his stealth aided by the elongated shadows of the evening. He took up a final position behind a nearby tree and waited for his son to close the final few steps that would seal his fate.
'Three, two, one,'Genma counted off rolled out from behind his cover charging Ranma in a blur. "You've been slacking, Boy!"
Genma noted his observations were correct even as his initial combination blazed in on the unaware martial artist. His surprise had been total and it was a minor miracle that Ranma even pivoted into the attack with enough reaction time to dodge the first three strikes. Genma's kicks were wasted on a deflection courtesy of his son's bracer, but the fifth strike in the combination blew clean through his offspring's guard. His fist tagged the pig tailed teen's shoulder, destabilizing his stance and opening more holes to be exploited.
"Dammit, Pops! I'm not in the mood for this shit!" Ranma protested loudly as he fought to recover from the initial assault. His shoulder took a hard hit and he rolled with the punch while attempting to extricate himself from the setup. Already aching joints protested as he spun on the momentum and turned the impact into a spinning roundhouse kick.
'Too slow!' His brain screamed as he watched his father duck under the foot, catch it in his left hand then used it to jerk him back into close range. Ranma's ribs blossomed with pain as his father took advantage of his completely unprotected right flank. It was perhaps a small favor that those ribs had already taken their share of beatings for the day, and the pain's fullest measure was blunted by numbness.
"Where have you been, Boy?" The bespectacled martial artist queried rhetorically as Ranma attempted to break contact once more. Genma would have none of it, and followed his son's retreat while issuing a verbal scathing. "Don't even think about ducking out of your responsibilities to Akane!"
"I ain't duckin' nothing!" Ranma snarled, narrowly dodging a punch meant for his head. Unfortunately, he took the jab aimed at his arm, which promptly went numb. The junior Saotome profiled away from his father's next strike, continuing his shuffling retreat. "And I don't need this crap!"
"You'll take whatever crap I give you, lazy boy!" Genma continued to press his offensive, both verbally and physically. He feinted with a three punch combination and went low with a leg sweep once Ranma had committed. To his credit, Ranma saw the feint nearly instantly, but nearly instantly wasn't good enough once his abused body was taken into consideration. Ranma jumped back, but took a glancing brush from the foot, compromising his balance. His retreat turned into a stumble and Genma went for the kill in the form of a flying kick. "Now you'll get back in the house and apologize for whatever it is you need to apologize for!"
"FURO-TO!"
Ranma's frustrated cry stopped Genma instantly. Not only did it stop the elder Saotome instantly, but it stopped him in mid-flight, effectively bringing an end to their brawl. Much as Ranma wanted to produce a smile as sinister as the person who had taught him the spell to begin with, he was much to pissed to wear anything but a smoldering glare.
"Now it's time for you to listen old man," The pigtailed teen all but growled as the days frustrations overflowed onto the only target available. It was too much and Ranma's gaze flashed menacingly across the floating man. "I don't want this shit and I don't need this shit. Take a hint for once and-"
"LET ME DOWN, BOY!" Genma bellowed, thrashing in midair much the way his son had only hours earlier. "Show me how you did this and maybe I'll help you deal with Akane so-"
"Me and Akane don't need your help, dammit!" Ranma cut him off in frustration as righteous indignation over his father's idiocy finally boiled over. "You or old man Tendo, for that matter! You both need to just butt out and let us handle it!"
"Insolence!" His father retorted, still trying to figure out how to return to earth. "You obviously can't handle it yourself! Why if it weren't for our-"
Ranma responded by flicking his hand to the left. Hard.Genma in turn suddenly flew to the left and hit the Tendo property wall at high speed. The sound of shattering stone and mortar almost wanted to make Ranma cringe, but he knew his father could take it and walked over to the dazed parental figure. Genma was still shaking his vision clear of the dark spots when Ranma stepped up to him, his expression still all business.
"From now on, you're gonna let us handle it our way." The teen martial artist issued the ultimatum even as Genma struggled to regain his footing. "No more plans. No more marriage ambushes." Genma lunged and found himself floating once again. His son shook his head. "I could throw ya into another wall and you still wouldn't listen, would ya?"
"Boy-!"
"Guess that's a 'No'." Ranma finished dryly and quickly evaluated his options. With little in the way of patience, Ranma opted for one that he usually would never had considered; one that Hild had steadily influenced for a while now. Genma's eyes widened as his son suddenly shifted into a redhead he knew all too well. She too wore the same unpleasant expression.
"Boy, how did you do that?" Genma asked hesitantly, suddenly forgetting the necessity to beat some sense into his son turned daughter, or that he was even floating to begin with.
"Found a cure, pop." Ranma stated, continuing to fix her father with a frosty glare. She melted back into a boy seconds later, causing Genma to gape. "I'm bettin' you would like one too."
"Damn right I would!" His father exclaimed, hope suddenly blossoming much as it had earlier in the morning upon finding out Soun had the nannichuan in his possession. His son shifted once more into his female aspect, and a cold, lifeless smile began to grow across her face. Genma suddenly felt a sinking pit in his stomach.
"Then you're going to do exactly as I say." She stated without emotion. It was clear that she now had his undivided attention and she used it. "Me and Akane don't need your help. We don't want your help. If you or old man Tendo pull any more of the shit you pulled today, I'll make sure you never see this or any other cure, got it?"
Genmas mouth opened to respond but his daughter had already turned on a heel to saunter off in a decidedly feminine strut. Seconds later, the spell that had been confining him to the air failed and he plopped to the ground; almost without notice. The thought to give chase crossed his mind, but it was balanced by the fact that he had just pissed off the only person he knew of with a real, live cure.
'Let her calm down a bit,' Genma rationalized easily as he picked himself off the ground. Too many thoughts were going through his head concerning the last five minutes, and he need time to get things straight. The Saotome patriarch watched his neo-daughter round a corner and disappear from sight.
Also disappearing from sight was the once clear road to the Tendo-Saotome pact.
"Stupid old man," Ranma muttered as she rounded the corner, adrenaline still burning in her veins. She angled off the walkway and hopped the nearest wall, leaving the Tendo property for the back alley. Things had turned to crap. That wasn't how it was supposed to go, but it did. Moreover, she realized why it had. No more good options, she concluded; an observation born of Hild's insight. That particular confrontation had been coming for a long time, possibly years, but she had put it off in the hopes that her father would back off.
'No such luck there,' The redhead grumped as she followed the dark alley out into a side street. Streetlights dominated the night now and Ranma paused on the sidewalk she now found herself on, replaying the confrontation over in her head. She had let the old man go unchecked and this was the result. Moreover, it had taken two trump cards just to reign him in. 'Which is what I get for waitin' so long, right Hild-san?'
The question may have been rhetorical, but that didn't make the underlying logic any less accurate or poignant. Ranma sighed, realizing that her only solace in the entire confrontation was that it almost appeared as if she had gotten through to the stupid panda. That she could count as a victory.
'Bought us some space, Tomboy.' Ranma nodded to herself, even if the aforementioned tomboy didn't know it herself yet. The thought bolstered her confidence slightly, which allowed her to let some of the resentment slip away. How much time, however, all depended on her ability to string her father along with the implied promise of a cure.
'Need ta calm down and think this through,' she decided and took to the nearest rooftop where she could be free from prying eyes. She jumped lightly from house to house until happening upon a suitable location, a moderate sized warehouse roof nine blocks away that she had used more than once when peace and quiet at the dojo was a luxury that couldn't be bought. The martial artist landed on the edge of the roof and made her way around the air conditioning units to the clutter free center, stepping into the initial stance of one of the lower impact katas known to her since childhood.
One hundred and eight steps, Ranma visualized her initial move and thrust a fist outward, then pivoted off to the left as if to avoid an imaginary attack. The visage of a panda came to mind as she did so and the martial artist revised her moves on the fly. Sidestep, Counter attack.
The Panda had been neutralized for now, literally and figuratively. Her foot flashed out and her father's furry persona evaporated in her mind's eyes. The fiancées came in next and Ranma slid backwards across the roof in order to create space. 'No. Offense,' she countermanded her instinct to avoid conflict and moved to engage Ukyo first. The Gambling King had ensured she didn't have a legitimate claim, but knowing that and actually getting her to realize that without destroying their friendship were two different things.
Ranma ducked under the swing of her battle spatula and pushed three rapid fire pressure points into her arms and chest. The girl went down and the martial artist spun around to meet Shampoo's bonbori already in their downward stroke. She stepped into its arc and disarmed the Amazon at the wrist, chopping at them with the knife edge of her hand and sending the weapons tumbling. She wasn't the real threat and Ranma rolled out just as Cologne joined her, stabbing at the rooftop Ranma had just occupied with the point of her cane.
The Amazon's had no real claim beyond that of village law and personal slight. Cologne blurred in, the tip of her cane leading the attack like spear point. Ranma dodged the figment of her imagination hastily and renewed her own attack. Her fists met the old Ghoul's solid guard, though she expected no less. Without Cologne, Shampoo's claim was nothing. She was the equalizer. Ranma hopped back out of another blurring strike and considered the old woman who now waited patiently in her mind's eye. Her threat, however, remained and Ranma knew she didn't have an effective counter to her presence. She cocked her head as an idea trickled across her awareness. With it came a slight smirk
'That might actually work,' Ranma decided, dismissing Cologne and Shampoo for the moment. Akane replaced them, but she had neither attacked or even taken a stance. The redhead smiled at the girl while acknowledging what she represented. 'We're workin' on it, right Tomboy?'
The girl remained still, but a new presence flared at the pigtailed teen's back. Ranma spun around to engage with a roundhouse kick, only to pull it short in shock.
Mother.
The kimono clad woman woman stood in wary stance, katana fully deployed and ready for action. Nodoka began to circle Ranma, who in turn jockeyed for her own position. The chestnut haired matriarch shuffled forward with respectable speed, sweeping the katana laterally. Her son-turned-daughter retreated a step to let the blade pass, then advanced three quick steps; literally yanking the blade from her grip and throwing it back off the roof.
'If only it were that easy,' Ranma grumbled as a new katana literally materialized in the woman's hands. Ranma hopped up and out of range as Nodoka renewed the stroke. Ranma studied her measured pace and careful advance. 'What do you want, mom? What will get you to put that thing down once and for all?'
Unfortunately, she already had an idea. Nodoka began to close the distance again and Ranma put theory into action, willing her gender to shift into that of a male. His mother instantly produced a radiant smile; the katana dropping from her hand voluntarily. The black haired boy melted back into a female and his, now her mother snapped the katana back up.
Dammit, she sighed in frustration. It was the happiness she wanted for her mother, but it was happiness at the expense of her own. The now female martial artist shook his head. 'There's gotta be some other way to neutralize ya... '
"This ain't helpin'." Ranma decided after a moment of silent introspection and broke the kata off. She stepped over to one of the air conditioning units and sat on it as a variety of emotions played out through her head, yet the calm center that the kata was supposed to have inspired had done anything but. 'What to do, what to do...'
A distraction. Ranma smiled as the idea came to mind and she had just the distraction necessary to take her mind off the day's stress. Her hand flicked out and in it was a scroll she had obtained two days earlier, but hadn't been able to study for lack of opportunity. 'And now's as good a time as any,' The redhead decided, her mood lifting for the first time since meeting Hild earlier in the day.
Ranma's fingers traced the seam of the Malcanthet's scroll and breached the red wax seal easily, allowing her to unfurl its meager length. She angled it to catch the streetlights better and found an unassuming ink chart comprised of two detailed illustrations of female body- front and back -and several dots interspersed across their surface. 'Pressure point map,'The martial artist decided as her study flicked from one sketch to the other while noting the placement of the dots. Their labels, however, were completely incomprehensible. Whatever language the scroll had been drafted in, Ranma realized that she most certainly wasn't the target audience.
'Good thing Martial Arts is a universal language,' The redhead smirked and fingered what looked to be a sticky note tucked into the remaining roll of the scroll. Ranma fished the yellow square out and read the terse note scrawled in blue ink.
Special Technique: Physical enhancement, female type.
Don't forget to use your ki!
-M-chan
Ranma chuckled at the heart scrawled next to 'M-chan's' signature and pocketed the note as her gaze flicked back to the diagram. Six pressure points, three you had to tap multiple times and one very nearly close to being too private to mention. That she could handle, especially being all alone on the rooftop in the middle of the night. the pigtailed girl gave the pressure point map on last look and committed it to memory as she would any other martial arts technique then went to work.
The first was easy and she reached around to just above her shoulder blade along the left side of her neck. Ranma ensured the points matched and gave it a ki enhanced press. Two was likewise mundane, though slightly harder to get to in the small of her back. She had to pull up her shirt for number three and gave the soft flesh of her left abdomen three quick taps. Number four was likewise easily assessable and she held the point longer as indicated by the long line that had been drawn with the point. Number five was series of taps right below and inside the hinge of her right jaw.
Number six was where the martial artist hesitated for a fraction of a second, then committed to the follow through. Her hand plunged down her Chinese pants and trace up her left inner thigh to the point where her leg nearly connected to the rest of her torso. She tapped in twice and pulled away. Ranma waited for several seconds and was about ready to question the technique when the world wavered, as if she had suddenly lost her equilibrium. The redhead clutched at the air conditioning unit, though by the time she had, the disorientation had passed.
'Weird,' She observed, shaking her head. She hopped up off the metal frame and took an experimental step, then two. Sensing no change, Ranma threw a punch in practice. It was quickly followed by a more rapid combination. Its normalcy only heightened her curiosity. Maybe it enhances strength, she mused and began to search for a suitable target to test her theory. The rooftop was found lacking, which meant she would have to find a park or something in order to-
FIRE.
The world suddenly turned white as Ranma Saotome's insides liquefied with molten need. Her knees gave out half a second later and the martial artist fell to the roof's gravely surface; her awareness melting and pooling into the erogenous zones of her biology. She couldn't catch her breath nearly fast enough.
'Oh... Oh shit!'
It was the only thought that managed to push its way through the log jam of neurons firing simultaneously as the impossible pleasure began to visit itself upon the anatomy she had never before paid attention to. What started as a modest flame roared into a bonfire, causing Ranma to buckle and flop over onto her side. She began to spasm in time with the waves of heat licking her body. The inferno beckoned her; begging for her participation.
Staring without sight out into the cloudless night sky, Ranma arched her back and screamed.
A glorious shaft of daylight crept up the contours of one Akane Tendo's face as she slept soundly, half wrapped up in a tangle of pastel blue sheets that bore the evidence of a fitful night's sleep. The shaft of illumination had seen steady movement through a gap in the blinds since sun up, traversing the centimeters over the youngest Tendo's mouth, up across her nose and finally, after several hours, prepared to burn her retinas away.
That was if the smell of cooking didn't get to her first.
The delightful aroma wafted across Akane's nose, slowly pulling her from her slumber back into the land of the living. That alone was more effective than any alarm clock, and a yawn extricated itself from her mouth as she stretched. In the end, Kasumi's cooking and the morning rays of light worked together, blinding the teenage girl the moment she opened her eyes.
"Uhg!" Akane squirmed in an attempt to save her sight, kicking the sheets free in order to gain the necessary mobility to escape. She slid off the bed with the barest shred of awareness, stumbling through the sheets even as another yawn racked her modest frame.
'Morning,'That fragment of intelligence identified, roughly guessing the time at around eight am since the family could all but set time by Kasumi's meal schedule. Automation took over from there and Akane fumbled with the her room door, stepping out into the hall after a brief battle of wits against the doorknob. The walk to the end of the hall helped to awaken her marginally, though another portion of her awareness already knew that wouldn't truly happen until she had had a decent soak in the furo.
Her hand reached for the door, only to watch the handle jerk away of its own accord as the restroom door itself slid open. Akane stopped short and looked up to find a person well known to her; one she hadn't seen for most of the day yesterday.
She also looked like hell warmed over.
"Ranma?" Akane blinked, taking in the bedraggled sight now standing before her. The redhead was clad in her usual attire of a red Chinese silk top and black pants, though both looked as if they had seen their last battle. While fraying and tears dominated the clothing, Ranma herself didn't look much better. Her hair was a sweat-matted mess and the bags under her eyes all but screamed 'late night'. Akane hesitated with her next question, all but knowing the answer. "Are you... alright?"
"Oh, hey Akane." Ranma mustered a weak smile, leaving the girl unsure if Ranma had been expecting her presence or not. The distracted note in her response became more and more obvious as she continued. "Yeah, I'm fine. Really."
"Really." The youngest Tendo challenged doubtfully. "Late night?"
"Something like that." Ranma nodded. Akane could sworn the redhead was looking through her and not actually at her. "Really late night. Say, ya mind if I use your room to change? Don't wanna deal with the Panda right now."
"Um, sure. I guess." the fiancee agreed to the unusual request, eyeing the martial artist warily. "What time did you finally get in anyway?"
"Ah, sometime around... around..." Ranma's blue eyes gained a distant look. Akane watched Ranma's mouth hang open with her last word for a moment before a shiver wracked her frame, followed by several panting breaths. The pigtailed teen grasped the door frame for support, shaking her head clear before returning her attention to a wide eyed Akane.
"Sorry... Sorry about that..." Ranma took a deep breath, her eyes seemingly lost focus. "Did I mention it was a late night?"
"I think you did." Akane nodded carefully, completely uncertain of what just happened.
"Alright. Gotta have a... chat with somebody. See ya later." The girl nodded and stepped around her, angling for her bedroom in an almost zombie like manner. The door clicked closed, leaving Akane Tendo alone in the hall and wide awake.
Three hours later, Ranma was all but ready to slit her own wrists as a young lavender haired succubus lead her down a familiar arched hallway tiled blood red marble with black marble supports somewhere deep within the bowls of hell. The martial artist threw a token nod in the chatty demon's direction, trying to appear as if she was listening while simultaneously desperate for eight fluid ounces of mental bleach. Or a cyanide pill; whichever she happened upon first. If one were to judge Lilith by her physical appearance, the sex demon couldn't have been more than thirteen years old. The one sided conversation she was carrying on with Ranma, however, spoke of far too much bedroom experience for the pigtailed teen's own good.
Or sanity.
"Then after I had my fill, I let Etna and Carrera take turns." The little demoness effused happily, detailing the entire sordid affair to Ranma, who in turn fought desperately to keep the tick off her face. Lilith's red stiletto boots clicked in time as she led her charge to their destination. "There was still enough energy left after that so we all three went in together. You know, he makes the cutest face when he lets go! It scrunches up like this!"
Ranma made a concerted effort to scrub the girl's imitation from her mind's eye while her brain desperately screamed: 'Change the subject! Change the goddamn subject!' So she did. Or at least tried. "So, um... Where is he now?"
Lilith's chipper expression slipped into an apologetic look. "We lost him. One moment he was safely strapped to the bed, the next he was gone. Isn't that odd, Daimakaichoko? I mean we should have found him by now!"
'At least that means I don't have to go saving his dumb ass,' She thought before addressing the girl's concern directly. "I, ah, wouldn't worry too much about Ryoga. He's pretty good at the whole gettin' lost and escape thing."
"Ooooh. More restraints next time. Gotcha." The red eyed girl nodded knowingly, her attitude picking back up. "Thanks for the advice, onee-chan!"
'Spoke too soon.' Ranma decided with a mental wince.
"By the way, you smell absolutely delicious." Ranma's eyes widened; her cheeks flushing pink with the unlikely observation. The smiling succubus pressed for details even though Ranma's thought process had frozen. "So how was it?"
"How... how was... what?" The redhead stammered in panic, staring at the girl with bug eyed denial and the vain hope that the demon wasn't suggesting what Ranma thought she was suggesting.
Lilith took another sniff around her personal space and produced a sly smile for her benefit. "You must have been at that all night long. On-nee-chan's been naugh-ty!"
"ACK!" Ranma chocked and tripped over her own feet, falling face first into the marble. It took a moment to fully peel her face away though the impact had done nothing to lessen Ranma's incredulous expression. "I, ah... I mean...How... That's, ah..."
"The residual lust chi in your aura," Lilith winked cutely, then turned a lidded, sultry expression onto the Martial artist. "I can help you with that, if you want."
The succubus stepped in front of Ranma with an eager gleam in her red eyes. Ranma gulped and stepped back; her own heartbeat pounding in her ears like a jackhammer as the last night's memories trickled back to the forefront.
"Now, now, Lilith-chan," The calm voice caused Ranma to snap her head around toward the waiting double doors they had been closing steadily on, finding a taller, more shapely female clad in little more than loose hanging silk toga that shimmered like black oil. The high succubus smiled lazily at the pair. "You are her toy, not vice versa. Should Ranma-chan desire your companionship, I'm sure she will make her position known."
"I was only trying to determine Onee-chan's position, Malcanthet-sama," The lavender haired demon pouted, but returned to Ranma with a cute wink. "After all, there are so many."
Ranma choked on her own tongue once again with the blatant suggestion before Lilith's superior intervened with a patient look. "Ranma-chan and I have business with one another. Run along before I am forced summon your sister to punish you."
"Eep!" Lilith yipped, but spared a hasty bow for Ranma before being consumed by the corridor shadows. "See you soon Daimakaichoko-chan!"
The redhead was about to breath a pent up sigh of relief with demon's disappearance; at least until Malcanthet turned back in Ranma's direction with a mild tisk. "And youshould know better than to tease poor little Lilith like that."
Relief evaporated like a snowflake on the very turf she stood upon. Ranma stared at her with bug eyed disbelief at the accusation. "ME? What'd I do?"
"While the scent of temptation suits you quite well, you all but beg a succubus or incubus of lesser restraint to, shall we say, sample you." The woman answered while her barbed tail swished with mischief.
"THAT'S YOUR FAULT!" The martial artist railed fiercely, pointing an accusatory finger at the High Succubus. It also just happened to be the entire reason she had made this particular jaunt to hell to begin with as her irritation over the entire incident finally found an outlet. "You and that ecchii scroll! I thought you said it was a martial arts technique!"
Malcanthet cocked her head thoughtfully, putting a single index finger to her chin as she considered the complaint. "Martial arts? I am a sex demon, child. What use would I have for a martial arts scroll?"
"But- But you!"
"Nor do I recall mentioning a word of martial arts at any time to either you or my instructions for Lilith." The demoness overrode the redhead' s objections in a matter of fact tone. "Any assumptions that the Oni Nushi Shikiyoku Bakudan was a martial arts technique were yours and yours alone."
"It's not my-!"
"Did you enjoy it?" The demoness favored Ranma with a secret little smile instantly stopped the flow of words from Ranma's mouth. It hung open for several seconds as horrible truths ran headlong into unchallenged preconceptions, creating neural gridlock.
"I didn't-!" Denial hung on the tip of Ranma's tongue. It all but screamed through her brain to be acknowledged like the well worn path it was through her thoughts. 'I'm a guy, dammit, and that never happened!' Her tongue attempted to work again in order proclaim that obvious fact. Again it failed. It encountered resistance.
It encountered the truth.
Two years ago Ranma had stepped foot into Nerima as that manly ideal with a condition he wouldn't have wished on his worst enemy. He was a martial artist; a man's man afflicted by the ultimate expression of femininity: A redhead teenage girl with looks to die for and a body to match. Two years could also change a man, and it had this one as well. In that time Ranma had applied what he had been taught on the long road of Anything Goes mastery: to overcome, adapt and improvised; however unwillingly at times.
That philosophy had been redefined by the Queen of the Damned, initially by her head games and then further by the unlikely nurturing she had provided. She had planted the seeds of acceptance; that Ranma Saotome, gender cursed heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts had nothing to be ashamed of. The curse was merely another viewpoint, and he- she -could be both. In that soil, the seeds planted by Hild were finally yielding fruit in the form of a single word that hesitantly wrest itself from Ranma's throat; almost against her will.
"Mh-Maybe...?"
Malcanthet smiled gently, stepping up to the unusually vulnerable looking girl. The admission had obviously torn a large chunk of her normally boisterous self confidence away, leaving uncertainty in its wake. the succubus curled a sharp black wing protectively around the pigtailed teen, lifting her chin her index finger so that her eyes met her own.
"Then we shall talk about it, imouto," The woman stated, ushering Ranma into her lair through the waiting double doors. She patted the girl on her head affectionately. "And perhaps when that has been satisfied, we will see about getting a similar technique for your male aspect."
Ranma Saotome gulped with trepidation, but found herself unable to refuse.
"So how was your day, Hikaru-kun?" The student turned his head right to study the older female dishing rice out onto his plate. Hikaru simply stared for a moment as the person aptly labeled his mother finished with the rice and doled out a portion of grilled fish. To her left, his father waited an answer expectantly.
"Take any good photographs?" Gendo Gosunkugi asked, focusing in on his son's silence in the hopes that he hadn't run afoul of the school bullies yet again.
The silence stretched indeterminately until both parents had ceased their meal preparations in favor of a concerned look meant for his person. The junior classman frowned, knowing that he would have to either answer or face further suspicion.
"Today was fine." Hikaru answered simply. "The cleansing of the Kora'katar pits was performed with fewer casualties than expected. I myself devoured eighteen of the damned in that section before the purging was complete."
He waited for a reaction from the pair. Both stared for a moment. Then smiled.
"It sounds like you had a very productive day, Hikaru-kun." His mother nodded happily and renewed her meal preparations, pouring him a glass of tea.
"So no bullies then?" His father confirmed. The result was a a dour look turned upon the man.
"I have possessed your son and will now summon the remainder of my host to scour this world of you pathetic insects." Hikaru Gosunkugi paused in his declaration, taking on a more introspective look. "Tell me where the most powerful resistance might lie, and we may save you for last."
"Oh, I hear the Sailor Senshi in Juuban battle demons all the time." His mother commented, picking at her own fish with a set of chopsticks. "Is this for one of your fan fictions, dear?"
"Juuban. Sailor Senshi." The student repeated, committing the name and location to memory. "They shall be the first to fall under the claws of Xang."
"That's nice," His father agreed absently, having already engrossed himself in the newspaper and thus tuned out to the rest of the conversation.
"Sounds exciting." His mother smiled and proffered him a bowl filled with light tan crisps. "Shrimp crackers?"
The possessed shell of Hikaru Gosunkugi favored the woman with a malevolent look before coming to a decision concerning her fate.
"Yes, please."
Author's Notes:
See? I am still alive. New job and its hours have been putting a serious dent in my schedule, but things promise to even out later. Beta-ing Starwars Old Republic didn't help much either ;) The good news is that HiaMA 11 is almost half done, so the turn around time on that should be minimal. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. I read each and every one :)
Shai-Hulud; The spice is life.
Grue; You are likely to be eaten by one.
Oni Nushi Shikiyoku Bakudan; Translates to 'Ranma-chan'. Actually, no it doesn't, but you can pretend it did if you want to ignore all the previous ANs :D
Special Thanks; All yas. You know who you are by now and its 1am. I'll catch you in ch11. My profound thanks.
Misc Notes; Still tracking down the source of italic run-on formatting. Not sure where its coming from, just that it uploads like that since its not on my master copies. Might try a straight copy/paste next time and cut the ffnet uploader out of the loop.