Shadows Over Nerima
A Ranma ½ / Batman Fan Fiction
by
Jeremy Harper
Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Batman is the creation of Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Both are used without permission.
Chapter 10
Ranma trailed some seven or eight meters behind Akane and her two friends as they wound their way through the Friday late-afternoon Ginza crowd. Ranma was in disguise, dressed plainly in jeans and a short-sleeved tee-shirt, his unruly hair concealed tightly beneath a red wig and his eyes hidden behind a pair of plain sunglasses. Akane had not given him a second glance in the past four hours, but he also had been careful to keep his distance and have people between her and himself at all times, as well as making small changes in his appearance every so often. He had underestimated her once and was not going to take a chance of her recognizing him. The last thing he wanted was Akane thinking he was some sort of perverted stalker.
Ranma carefully scanned the busy street again, looking for any sign of a tail on Akane or a lurker in wait. He spotted nothing. A brief frown flickered across his lips – while most likely she had no shadow, it was possible he was missing it. His attention was split between making sure he did not lose Akane and observing a large and heavily trafficked area. The opposition being aware of his interest also did not help matters. These solo guard jobs were a bitch even under the best of circumstances. Ideally Ranma would have Batman or Arsenal (Roy was damn stealthy despite his penchant for dressing like a stoplight) coordinating with him. Beast Boy would do in a pinch – while his animal metamorphic powers made him an excellent spy, Garfield was a bit too flighty to be consistently good at this kind of work. No use wishing for what I don't have, Ranma thought.
Akane and her friends paused to peer into an upscale boutique's display window. Ranma leaned against the side of an alleyway mouth, folding his arms, projecting nonchalance. It was starting to look as if he had frightened off whoever had been watching Akane – at least for now. When he returned from his short stay with Yoru-sensei, Ranma had followed the young woman to and from school for a few days, and while satisfied that she no longer had to fight her way through the Furinkan courtyard anymore, it was obvious the only one shadowing her was himself. Scouring Nerima while she was safe in school or at home resulted in nothing either, save for a few contrite muggers and one very frightened bicycle thief.
I must have scared them bad if they've gone to ground so thoroughly, Ranma thought with a cocky smirk. Maybe they're trying to wait me out. Figure I can't stay in Tokyo forever. He glanced at Akane out of the corner of his eye. She and her friends were moving down the sidewalk. He waited ten seconds before following. He decided that if nothing happened today he would start attacking the situation from another direction by researching the Tendo family. Maybe an incident from their past would provide a clue. It also had the advantage of Bruce having done the legwork on Soun all ready. He would download the files from the Batcomputer tonight. For now he would keep on the alert and enjoy the scenery – Akane looked very fetching in a black knee-length skirt and red strapped platform sandals, and her two friends were quite pretty as well. Ranma half-frowned. Mind on the job, Saotome.
They had walked a few more blocks when Akane's group stepped into a snack bar. Ranma was waiting a few minutes before entering when he noticed something unusual across the street. It was not a commotion per se, but pedestrians were slowing down to gawk and step aside for someone, their behavior reminiscent of minnows parting before an oncoming shark. An unpleasant shock of recognition jolted down his spine when he spotted the source of the unrest. The man was a tall, broad-shouldered gaijin, balding and slightly swarthy. He prowled the sidewalk like a relaxing predator, his five-thousand dollar suit and thousand dollar mirror shades doing nothing to conceal his tightly contained deadliness.
Bird! What the hell is he doing here? Ranma went on high alert, stretching out with all his senses and calling upon every trick of observation and concealment-in-plain-sight he knew. Bird continued walking, ignoring the people around him with a hawk's contempt for doves. He seemed to be alone.
Ranam glanced back at the snack bar, then again to Bird, who had now passed by. Ranma had to make a decision fast – leave Akane and follow Bird or stay with her and ignore the presence of a highly dangerous international criminal and terrorist. He found neither option appealing. He briefly considered the idea that this was a distraction, a way to peel him off of Akane, but he could not see a connection. Neither Bird nor Bane had any ties to Japan he was aware of, and even so, what possible interest could they have in a prosperous but obscure Japanese family? There was also the fact that the modus operandi of whoever was spying on Akane did not match Bird's; if Bird wanted something from the Tendo's he would have taken it by now. Ranma hated coincidences, but the fact remained they did happen. He took another look at the snack bar, repressed the urge to swear and started after his new quarry. He fished his encrypted cell phone from his pocket and called the penthouse. "Alfred, change of plans. I'm dropping Miss Tendo – I just spotted Bird in Ginza."
"Good heavens! Is he by himself?"
"As far as I can tell. Subtle his crew ain't. It's probable he's meeting with someone. I'm gonna see what I can find out."
"I'll make sure to inform Master Bruce of the situation."
"Gotcha. I'll report back when I'm able."
"Very well. Good luck, Master Ranma."
"Thanks." Ranma disconnected and continued his pursuit.
Twenty minutes later he found himself in the lobby of one of the better class of Ginza hotel. Bird was all ready checked in, having headed straight for the elevators and ascended to the third floor. Ranma considered several methods to find the exact room and decided on the simplest, falling in step with a passing bellhop. "Hey."
The young man smiled politely. "May I help you, sir?"
"Yeah. You know the big gaijin with the tattoo who just walked in? I have a friend who would like to know the man's room number."
The bellhop looked at Ranma doubtfully. "A friend, you say?"
"Yes. Mr. Fukuzawa." He pulled his hand from a pocked and discreetly flashed in his palm a ten-thousand yen note.
The bellhop pursed his lips as he eyed the bill greedily. "I don't know..."
"Mr. Fukuzawa has a twin brother who is also interested."
The bellhop swallowed and looked around quickly. No supervisor was in view. Ranma smiled with pleasant patience. "Okay. He made a big stir when he came in. Not that he really did anything rude, but just because of the way he looks. Everyone knows gaijin have no shame, but a tattoo around the mouth is a bit much." He looked around again, nervously this time. "Is he a gangster?" he whispered.
"He's an unusual person. Room number?"
"304."
"Thank you." Ranma subtly passed him the notes. "The Fukuzawas are actually triplets. The third brother suggests there's wisdom in silence." Somehow the lack of threat in his tone made the suggestion more menacing.
The bellhop swallowed. "Of course, sir. If you'll forgive me, you look a little young for a cop." He said the last part hopefully.
Ranma smiled and shrugged. "I just have one of those faces." He touched his forefinger to his lips and strolled away. When he was certain the bellhop was not making a beeline to his supervisor or the house detective he quickened his pace, taking the nearest stairwell to the third floor. 304 was located close by, which did not surprise him – Bird by habit would want a quick avenue of escape close at hand. The hallway was empty, but Ranma did not linger, quietly inserting a wafer-thin listening device between the jamb and the door's hinged side and then headed for the nearest elevator. No one challenged him as he left the hotel. In a nearby alley he discarded his wig and unpinned his hair, tying it in a loose ponytail, and removed his sunglasses. He placed a bluetooth in his ear and started for the nearest train-station, hands in his pockets and whistling tunelessly. He planned on returning to the penthouse to suit up and then return to the hotel to watch for Bird's next move.
For most of the ride back to the penthouse Ranma heard quiet snoring through the bluetooth. Still adjusting to the time difference. Last I heard, Bird was in Chicago, working as a 'consultant' for an up-and-coming crime lord named Marcone. What's brought him to Japan? A cell phone began ringing. Ranma activated the bluetooth's record functions.
"Yes," said Bird in English. "Yes, this is Halcon. Yes. I am well. Yes. Yes, 8 o'clock is acceptable. It will be a pleasure to finally meet you and your father in person. Yes. Until then. Good bye." Silence for a half-minute then Bird began speaking in Spanish. "Carlos, I've heard from the Tanakas. Meeting is set for eight tonight. A restaurant our friends and the associates favor – Gonpachi's. It's neutral ground for the clans. Tell the men to wake up and get appropriate." Another half-minute pause. "Zombie. Meeting is set. Get the product ready. We deliver tomorrow." Another silence, then a bed creaked and a door shut. A minute later came the muffled sound of a shower running.
Ranma shut off and removed the bluetooth. Product? He wondered. A split-second later his eyes widened. Shit. Venom.
Gonpachi's was filled to capacity Friday night, patrons packing the private rooms and the tables around the performance stage, where couples danced to a loud rockabilly beat. In the lobby of the izakaya two parties greeted each other. One was headed by Bird, accompanied by three other men, soldiers recruited in the hell of Pena Dura prison by Bane, but who now served Bird's interests – killers dressed in finery earned with blood and misery. The other group was a quartet of Japanese men in dark business suits. In every detail they seemed typical corporate executives, save for their eyes, which were shark-like and voracious. With them were two women. One was young, small and slim, coolly attractive and dressed in a dark gray sports jacket and skirt. The other was gorgeous, her traditional kimono clinging tightly to her heavy breasts and shapely hips, her silken black hair piled up in an elaborate bun. Her eyes were warm, but it was an empty warmth, the artificial ardor of a woman whose soul had long gone numb.
"Mr. Halcon," said the first woman with a bow. "I am Kaori Tanaka. It is an honor to finally meet you." She gestured at the eldest of the four men. "My father Gennosuke Tanaka. I fear his English is poor and his Spanish non-existent, so I will be speaking for him." She introduced her father's associates and finally the other woman, Fujiko.
Bird bowed in return. "A pleasure, Miss Tanaka. My men and I are humbly honored that you see fit to entertain us so lavishly."
"You are welcome. Our private room is ready. Please come."
The two parties were led through the restaurant by a nervous heavy-set man, balding and sweating. Bird observed his surroundings with sharp, unblinking eyes. "I heard a rather bloody fight took place here, some years back."
Kaori smiled serenely. "Indeed. It ended in the death of a very prominent member of our circles – a most forceful woman. It took some time for the clans to recover from chaos following her passing, but in the end things worked out for the best – even for the restaurant. Gonpachi's has become quite popular because of the incident. I find it surprising just how common morbid curiosity is."
"I do not. I have had dealings in a city where the restless young dress in emulation of one of the greatest serial killers the world has seen. No, Miss Tanaka, my capacity for surprise was burnt out long, long ago."
"As you say, Mr. Halcon."
Once seated they ate and drank well, courses coming in slow and steady intervals. Bird and Kaori spoke of inconsequential matters, while the members of their parties eyed each other warily over the low table. Fujiko sat next to Bird, refilling his sake cup at his request and smiling coquettishly at him. After the main course of Kobe steak Bird leaned back with a sigh, setting down his cup. "Again, I thank you Miss Tanaka. Shall we now discuss business?"
"Yes." Kaori leaned toward her father, who whispered rapidly in her ear. She nodded and snapped her fingers. One of her father's men stepped out of the room to stand guard. "You have the product?"
"Yes. Two tanks, as per your request, plus two dozen delivery systems and thorough instructions on use, care and maintenance written by my colleague Diego Ortiz, the world's foremost living expert on the substance. All ready to be off-loaded from our freighter upon finally payment. You have the first installment?" Kaori snapped her fingers again. A briefcase was passed across the table. One of Bird's men opened it, scanned the contents, and nodded.
"Set, jefe," he said.
"Good." He produced an envelope and handed it to Kaori. "The pier we are moored at."
"We will arrange for pick up promptly at three pm," she said.
"Very well. The product needs no special handling, but if you wish I'll have a few of my men assist you with moving it."
"No need," said Kaori. She quickly memorized the contents of the envelop and set a match to it, burning it in an ashtray. "It is only a short drive from our storage facility. I thank you for your thoughtfulness."
"As you wish." He raised his cup. "A toast – to a mutually profitable relationship."
"Kampai," she toasted back.
Bird tossed down his sake. "I will confess now, Miss Tanaka, that I am surprised by your family's interest in this product. The clans have traditionally stayed away from such things."
"Times are hard and uncertain, Mr. Halcon. Foreign barbarians with no respect for our ways have pressed hard on our spheres of influence. The money your product will make us in the less civilized regions of Asia, as well as the substance itself, will give us a very potent edge."
"I understand." Bird gestured with his sake cup and Fujiko refilled it. "Another toast – may you break your enemies completely."
As the two groups prepared to leave Kaori gestured at Fujiko. "Fujiko is willing to accompany you back to your hotel and see to your continued comfort, if you so wish."
Bird's brows lifted and he bowed. "Japanese hospitality is truly unrivaled." He looked at Fujiko, his flint eyes hot and greedy. "I can not recall the last time I was treated to such an exquisite dessert. Shall we depart, my beauty?" He offered her his arm. Fujiko fluttered her eyes and accepted it. The party left the private room.
A few minutes later a small attic window at the back of the restaurant opened and a dark figure contorted through it, climbing onto the izakawa's roof. Nightwing wiped his brow and took a sip from a canteen – it had been damned hot in the crawlspace above that private room. Finding himself unobserved, he drew his grapnel and launched a line, swinging out toward the alley where he concealed the Nightcycle.
"You gonna share, jefe?"
"Shut up, Edgar," said Bird.
"I don't mind sloppy seconds."
"You are a pig. A woman like this is to be savored. Fucked hard and thoroughly, yes, but always treated with the utmost respect." Bird opened the back door of his hired car and bowed to Fujiko in Continental style. "After you, my sweet." Fujiko giggled and complied. "Get in the front, you three. Back to the hotel." He stepped in after Fujiko and closed the door.
A panel in the window separating the driver from the rear passenger compartment slid open. "Clean, Bird," whispered the driver.
"You certain?"
"As certain as you can be when dealing with the Bat's brat. I did a thorough sweep."
"Good. Drive." The window slid shut and the limo started and rolled forward. Bird reached over and put his arm around Fujiko, pulling her against him with surprising gentleness. He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, kissed her temple, then pulled a cell phone from his suit jacket's inner pocket and dialed a number. It was answered before the first ring. "Was he there?" he asked without preamble.
"Yes," said Talia al-Ghul. She chuckled softly. "He's very good. I dared not risk setting spotters for him, but even Batman would have been hard pressed to discern the motion detectors I had placed."
"Unh. I'm surprised you did not set something more lethal to fry his ass then and there, or have a sniper team ready to shoot him entering or exiting."
"I entertained the possibility, but judged the odds of success too slim. No, our best chance will be tomorrow at the Tanaka's warehouse."
"Very well. My men and I will be ready. Have the rest of my payment prepared. I plan on leaving Japan immediately after we are finished."
"Confident, are we?"
Bird shrugged. Fujiko had snuggled up against his side, and he absently fondled her. "Son of the Bat or not, Nightwing is only a boy, and no boy alone is a match for me and mine. This will not be a fight – it will be an execution."
"As you say, so may it be. Enjoy your dessert, Bird."