Journal Entry: November 5
I just had a strange dream about Great Grandmother, and getting cursed again at Jyusenkyou. The Guide was there, and so was his daughter, and they pushed me into another pool. I'm writing this right after getting up, because I know I'll forget it later. This is the first bad dream I think I've had since I came here.
This morning we all went and got our own suits of armor: the Personal Armor called the "PA-3 Personal Armor System for Ground Troops." Everyone is supposed to be responsible for taking care of their armor and putting it on, and I expect we will do a lot of training in it. I don't really like the color or the design, but women of the Amazon Tribe are used to wearing armor to protect themselves in battle. This is no different.
Ranma told us to train together today, so that we can learn from each other. What that means is that he hopes spatula girl and her weird boyfriend will learn something useful from their betters. I play-fought with both of them, and Ranma, and Ukyou is still as annoying as I remember to fight. We did our training outside near the base, and when I cooked some delicious lunchtime ramen for Ranma, Ukyou tried to interrupt by stuffing her so-called food down his throat.
When I tried to stop her from molesting the man I am, by the laws of the Chinese Amazon Tribe, already all but married to, she threw exploding okonomiyaki at me! So I decided to teach her a lesson, and used the Kinbaku Chao Mien attack on her. A normal person would have learned their lesson, but not stupid spatula girl! Only a little while later, we turned in for the day. I don't know what Ranma and Ukyou's pet ninja boy did, now that I think about it.
Ranma watched Konatsu carefully for the other boy's attack. It didn't help that there were currently six identical versions of the genius ninja, courtesy of the special Kunoichi Ninpou: Rokubu Ichitai – meaning 'Six Parts as One Body.' This was a form of multiple body technique, long famed to be one of the pinnacles of the art of the ninja. The six copies set themselves in place, and Ranma flexed his fingers, knuckles popping.
"Tempuradan!" An explosion sent a cloud of smoke into the air… a hundred feet away. A second later, there was another explosion, and then several small ones.
"Stupid spatula girl as blind as Mousse! No can hit even own restaurant from the inside!"
"That was just a warning shot! Try this on for size: Okonomiyakidan!"
More explosions.
"Maybe we should move?" Ranma asked, glancing towards the growing conflagration the two girls were kicking up. Konatsu, however, had already pulled a disappearing trick and was nowhere to be seen. No more than a second later, a flying disk of surprisingly explosive batter and toppings hit the ground at his feet and blew sky high, sending him tumbling through the air, arms and legs akimbo.
As the pigtailed boy landed in a thicket of bushes, his haunting call echoed through the woods.
"Whhhhyyyy meeeee?"
Journal Entry: November 6
I applied for permission to train with the Mk.47 Striker 40, and was allowed to use one of the weapons under supervision. As of today, I am now certified to use it for practice, and hopefully, I will be able to use one by the time we have our mission. It is not very heavy and I have no problems carrying it around, even though it is kind of bulky, and so is the ammunition for it. It will take some time to get used to using the special sights on it, though.
Today, we trained with the lost boy's team, all of us together. We went over some strategies for approaching a building when under fire, and a bunch of other things. Outside, they drew an outline in the dirt of the first level of the ship, and we practiced moving through it. Today must have been some kind of 'team day' because we did everything as a group. It was strange.
I caught Mousse staring at me, of course, so I hit some sense into his thick head. Doesn't he realize I'm betrothed to Ranma, who is a much stronger, better groom than he could ever be? He should be happy and help me, not always get in the way. I know he thinks Ranma will marry that ugly tomboy Akane, but I swear that will never happen so long as I am an Amazon and I draw breath.
Anyway, after a while, we went to the new Dojo that the Tendo family built for more play fighting. Except we did it in our personal armor, which was a good idea. There were two matches going on at any time, in the two Dojo rooms, but they dragged on a long time. The armor made it much harder to knock out my opponent, and that was true for everyone, even Ranma. Almost everyone got the chance to fight everyone else once, except Ranma and the lost boy, who didn't fight. Which was too bad. Ranma always wins, but at least the fight is always interesting.
Stick boy Kuno used a real sword today again, and when he said something about taking me out on a date if I win, I made sure to draw with him. At least his crazy sister isn't around anymore. Still I don't want to have someone like that bothering me all the time. I don't know how anyone can stand him.
Nabiki smirked at the exultant expression on his face.
"That'll be 20,000 yen, Kuno-baby," she said, coyly, holding the photographs out of his reach, but at just enough of an angle that he could see then top one, and parts of a few others.
"Tendo Nabiki, you wound me with your inflated prices!" Kuno clutched his chest, as if fighting a terrible internal war between giving money to such a mercenary girl and going without new pictures.
"Oh?" The middle Tendo smiled like a predatory cat. "I object to you calling my prices inflated. This is simply supply and demand."
"But…" Kuno pleaded, his expression now dour. "I am the only one who buys these things from you, as far as I know."
"And how far do you know?" Nabiki asked, and then added. "Besides, these may well be the last pictures of the pig tailed girl you'll ever be able to have, Kuno-baby. Don't you want something to remember her by? Don't you want something to warm those lonely nights here in this isolated little base underground? Don't you want something to blow up to poster size and pin on your wall, for only an additional 10,000 yen?"
"Avaricious woman," Kuno grumbled, relenting. "How should I transfer such an exorbitant amount of money?"
"Remember where we are, Kuno-baby. I work in the finance department, after all!" Nabiki chuckled cutely, mostly at having swindled the poor swordsman out of hundreds of American dollars to her own benefit. Cash was mostly useless on the base, so she would have to transfer the money from his account to hers electronically. Not that she minded. She liked the feel of yen, be it coin or bill form, but she wasn't married to the tactile sensation. Just the idea, the knowledge, of having more money brought her a nice little rush.
She'd never really cared much for math, or anything of the sort. But sums, the movement and flow of money (preferably into her coffers, and from there, doled out in exchange for the finer things in life), were her obsession. Nabiki Tendo loved money. And she loved buying things with it, and finding the best possible price for what she wanted. Yes: it was that delicate combination, that tight rope act, of paying as little as possible for as much as possible, that truly enthralled her. It was, in a way, her martial art.
Not that she was about to do anything illegal for it. She was only an intern at the moment, watched closely (mostly for incompetence), and spending her time at a desk. Still, it was amusing enough watching and checking the sheer volume of money that went through the coffers of UNETCO just in Japan. Besides, she had a feeling that if she actually tried laundering money or anything else illegal, she'd get caught in less than a day, and probably be executed for 'crimes against humanity' or something.
UNETCO, despite having quite deep pockets, took its finances very seriously.
"Here you go, Kuno-baby," Nabiki said, after happily loading up a screen asking for a login, password and PIN number. "Just sign in, load up a transfer of finances form, and send it. It handles money in American dollars, but I know the going exchange rate."
Of course, she'd known the rate beforehand, and intended to round up generously when she gave him the estimate. Kuno sighed, and she scooted over in her chair to let him have access to the keyboard. His hands wavered over the keys, and he looked at her critically.
"A little privacy?"
"Oh, of course. I'll just go get a drink of water," Nabiki said, her voice dripping innocence as she got out of her chair, and headed towards the water cooler. She heard Kuno typing once she was unable to see him, and she shrugged at the missed opportunity. Nothing illegal, she reminded herself. The true contest wasn't in robbing people, but in tricking them, beating them at haggling, and getting them to hand over their money consensually. It was a contest of intellect and will!
At the water cooler, she filled up two little paper cups, and in the middle of the second, she saw someone approach. She recognized her immediately: one of her new coworkers. Nabiki, being an intern, sat at the lowest and least important rung of the current non-combat population on the base. Even Kasumi, as a nurse in training, probably ranked higher in people's eyes. All of the personnel in the base were extremely skilled with exceptional backgrounds, and so they were rightly proud of themselves, and naturally a little aloof to the new girl who got in without a college degree.
But if Nabiki Tendo had the distinct honor of being at the bottom of the current pecking order, Sun-Yu Kim was only a step above her. The spunky girl reminded Nabiki a little of Akane; she even had hair the same blue-black color, but grown long just past her shoulders and without Akane's bangs. Sun-Yu was a new addition to the program here, having earned her degree in America, at the UNETCO Sanctuary Community. Her father had joined XCOM in 2001, and his family had been transferred to the Community. Five years later, she had gotten the chance to work at the same base as her father, and she'd been shipped over.
Supposedly, she had a younger brother who wanted to join up too, much to their mother's exasperation. He was only fifteen, however, and barring him learning powerful and esoteric martial arts, it was highly unlikely he'd see combat with the alien menace. Unless, of course, the war dragged on and on, or UNETCO became overwhelmed and the human race found itself helpless and under siege…
"Who's the cute guy by your desk?" Sun-Yu asked, walking up with her own empty paper cup. She spoke in English like everyone did at work. Nabiki had considered herself capable with the language after her graduation (she'd even done well in college, when she took it), but just a few hours under the influence of the pedagogical interface, she found herself speaking and understanding it fluently. Reading English was a little more difficult, and writing a bit harder, but it was more than enough to get the job done.
"You mean Kuno?" Nabiki knew she girl meant Kuno, but it was fun to play around. There was always potential profit to be made in people's romantic interests, or even their base lusts.
'Oh my,' Nabiki's inner Kasumi mused. 'That made me sound like a pimp.'
"Kuno, huh?" Sun-Yu noted the two cups Nabiki held, as she refilled her own at the water cooler. "Are you and he…?" She let the sentence trail, leaving it implied.
"Not quite my type, I'm afraid," Nabiki admitted, and it was the truth. Kuno was sort of cute (actually, he could be quite handsome when he wasn't acting like a pretentious fool), but he wasn't terribly interesting. Plus, he got on her nerves more often than he didn't. His money, on the other hand – there was something she could spend the rest of her life with!
"He's just a friend. We've known each other since elementary school," Nabiki continued, and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "He's one of the new martial artists on the base. I can get you a picture or two, if you want…"
"Why would I want his picture?" she other girl asked, though she did lean to her side to get a better look at Kuno, who had a sorrowful look on account of his now smaller… account. I wouldn't mind meeting him though."
Nabiki didn't let the disappointment of making a few easy bucks deter her. If she could somehow foist Kuno off on Sun-Yu (or even just distract him a little while with the more worldly young woman), she could not only try and make some money off their relationship by selling information, but also get a little from Akane for getting the irritating kendoist off her back as well.
"Drop in on us in a few minutes; I'll introduce you," Nabiki replied, and winked. "Kuno's something of a lady's man. You'll like him."
'For a little while,' she thought, but didn't say.
Heading back to her desk, Nabiki handed Kuno the drink she'd gotten him, and sat on the corner of her desk before crossing her long legs and smoothing over her short black skirt. It was such a shame that he was essentially impervious to any of her attempts at seduction, or even just throwing him off base with her looks. After years of being swindled, he'd developed an effective immunity. Still, it was best to keep in practice.
She didn't bother to check to make sure Kuno had filled in the right amount of money. He'd never try to cheat her, and he'd never go back on a deal or his word. She could respect the position. She had no qualms about omitting truths herself, or even stretching them, but it was usually best to cultivate at least the appearance of honesty.
"Now, Kuno-baby…" She smiled at him. "Let's talk about buying an equal number of Akane's pictures at the same price…"
"What?" Kuno gasped. "Curse your greed, woman! How dare you ask the noble scion of House Kuno to pay, not once, but twice, such an outrageous sum for photographs? While it cannot be denied that the preserved image of the beauteous Akane Tendo is worth parting with money for, how can you justify charging as much for them as the – in your own words 'rare' and 'limited edition' – pictures of the pigtailed girl?"
"But think what it would mean to my sister if you paid less for her pictures than you did for the pigtailed girl?" Nabiki leaned over a little and looked at him seriously. "Why, it would be an insult! Are you saying you love the pigtailed girl more than Akane?"
"I… I…" Kuno clenched his right fist and stared up at the heavens (or rather: at a light built into the ceiling).
"I must have them BOTH!" He vowed, thunder rumbling in the heavens and waves crashing dramatically against the shore (inside his mind). "Curse my heart, generous and bountiful enough for two such spirited ladies as it is! For each, my love flows equally and eternally!"
Nabiki just grinned, broadly. "I knew you'd see things my way…"
Journal Entry: November 7
Had another strange dream last night. Not really bad. It was about the date Ukyou had with Ranma tonight. Tuesday, Ranma said he plans to invite Ukyou over to eat with his family, just like I get to be with him Thursday. Wednesday, he eats over with the Tendo family and the violent girl they want to shackle him to. Now I can barely remember the dream, but it had something to do with Ukyou buying Ranma from his father with food I think. I know it wouldn't work in real life (probably), but it was still scary.
The only unusual thing today was when we went to the morgue to look at alien bodies. Ranma called it a Field Trip. We all had to touch the bodies, to make them seem less mysterious and more real, or something like that. Most of them felt and smelled like spoiled fish and cabbage. It did help to show where some of the weak spots on their bodies are, at least, so the trip wasn't a total waste of time.
I visited one of the workshops today, too, and saw Mousse there. Not that I care what he does, but I was sort of curious, so I asked. After the fool stopped being happy that I'd even bothered to talk to him, he explained that he was customizing his personal armor to make it easier for him to use his Hidden Weapons black magic. I'd forgotten about that, and so I've looked into adding some personal touches to my armor, too.
Mousse chuckled darkly as he worked.
None of the technicians or engineers in the workshop really understood the purpose of Mousse's modifications to his personal armor, or the fact that he was tailoring an overcoat for it. That was all right – they didn't have to understand the mysteries of his Art. They just had to help him, and to his relief, they were happy to do just that.
XCOM had the most state of the art fabrication and construction machines he'd ever heard of. In fact, there were a lot of machines he'd never heard of, but like those who worked here didn't question him; he didn't question how they did what they did either. Things had come along perfectly, in the end. He'd have to be much more economical with his use of Hidden Weapons than in the past, but the result would be a leaner, deadlier Art.
As his new personal armor took form, and developing from a few thoughts and rough sketches, he smiled and adjusted his thick work goggles. He had a whole slew of new ideas for techniques, a generation evolved from the Hidden Weapons Art he'd learned all those years ago. It would be another day before he was done, but when he was…
"Even the Junyoken is not outside the realm of possibility…"
Journal Entry: November 8
Not much to say.
I practiced more with the Striker 40. We trained together as a group again today, first with weapons and tactics, then with martial arts. The stupid violent girl tried to help, but only got in the way. When Ranma pointed this out to her, she hit him with a training sword. Good. Every time she hits him, it means they are less likely to get together. I don't know why Ranma bothers with that brick headed girl anyway. Even Ukyou is better than her.
We ate at the commissary inside the base, and they served this sort of wonton. It was some kind of American wonton I think. For some reason, I don't know the name of it off the top of my head like I know most English words. I didn't say as much, but it was actually surprisingly good.
The rest of our training time we spent at a Psionics Lab, working on our ki. There was a movie we watched about building "Ego Barriers" and other stuff. There were a lot of fancy words, but basically what it was about was to defend yourself from an aura attack. I wish Great grandmother were here. She could teach how to do that much better than doctors and machines.
We were also tested for our "Psionic Strength" and "Psionic Skill" and shown a "PsiAmp." Supposedly, with it, you can directly influence someone's mind, even if you can't see them. You can even take over their minds completely.
We mostly just worked on our auras, and internalizing and externalizing ki. I've never been very good at externalizing ki, but at least Ukyou and Mousse have the same problem. I also want to point out the funniest thing that happened today! At some point, Ukyou tried to have some kind of private conversation with Ryouga. I don't know what the spatula head said (probably she tried to talk him into some stupid scheme of hers) but I don't think it had the desired effect!
Ukyou saw him standing against a wall, watching the others practice. Clothes aside, the grumpy expression on his face alone gave off who he was, wherever he was. Taking a break from practicing 'pushing out her emotions' and 'visualizing her spirit' (whatever that meant) she leaned against the wall next to him, ostensibly to rest a bit. There were no chairs in the room, with its white tiles all over the floor, walls and ceiling.
He looked at her briefly, as if just to register her presence, and then went back to gauging the progress of the others. Ukyou pouted and frowned, miffed by the dismissing gesture. Especially since she was willing to give him another chance to help her break up Akane and Ranma. She knew the lost boy still had feelings for the youngest Tendo girl, and since he hadn't brought his farmer girlfriend with him, it was likely that he'd begin to fall back on his first love. Ukyou knew all too well that her real competition for Ranma's hand wasn't Shampoo, it was Akane, and her best card for wooing Akane away from her Ran-chan was Ryouga Hibiki.
"So, how are we doing?" She asked, hoping to warm up his conversation a bit.
He tilted his head to look at her in profile.
"Poorly," he answered.
"That's a little harsh," Ukyou replied, put off by the response. Poorly?
"This is probably the most important training you'll ever have," he answered, and he closed his eyes and grimaced, as if tasting something sour. "There are creatures we will have to face, have to fight… that will tear your mind open, Ukyou. And those are the merciful ones. The cruel ones… will let you live. Live and wish you'd died."
His words sent a chill down her spine. She was used to hearing overly dramatic sorts of speech from him, hell: he'd even quietly quoted poetry a few times while musing over his unrequited affections. But there was a hollow monotone, a statement of simple fact, in what he had just said. Still, she didn't let it deter her. She knew he took this fight against the aliens seriously.
"You wanted us to do the best we can, and train as hard as we can," Ukyou reminded him, standing up straighter against the wall adjacent to him. "That's what we're doing. One hundred percent."
He didn't reply immediately, but eventually nodded slowly. "How about you, Ukyou? Do you need any help, or…?"
"Actually," she said, and smiled at the opening in the conversation he'd provided. "I do need your help!"
"Really?" he asked, his voice (while not the equal of her chipper tone) did indicate he was feeling a bit more amenable. "Well: just ask."
"Well, I noticed you're all alone here…" She did note the look in his eyes, as his pupils grew smaller, but she pushed on. His reaction reinforced her guess that Akari had dumped him, probably getting tired of him getting lost.
"I'm guessing you're still a bachelor, right?" she asked, but kept talking before he could answer. "And I'm also guessing you've been thinking about Akane again, right?"
"Not interested," he quickly said, and looked away, turning his attention back to the gathering kis in the room.
"You didn't even hear me out!" Ukyou complained, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. "Listen, Hibiki, this is our chance! Ranma isn't even living with the Tendo's anymore, and you're around all the time now! With me being on Ran-chan's team, I'm with him more often than he's around Akane…"
"Ukyou…" he growled a warning.
"Think about it! Are you a man or aren't you?" Ukyou, growing more annoyed by the fact that he wasn't even looking at her, grabbed him by the front of his shirt below the collar, and tried to force him to face her. "Don't be so wishy washy! Be decisive! Seize the moment! If you'd stuck with your guns a year ago, you'd probably be happily engaged, and I'd already be married!"
"Ranma and Akane have my blessing," he told her firmly, and she drew back a little. At the failed wedding, she'd suspected that he'd just given up.
"You're lying," she said, calling his bluff. "You still love Akane."
"Of course I do," he replied, keeping his voice low, almost a whisper. "I will always care for her. But she wants Ranma. Not me."
"You're just afraid," Ukyou hissed. "A real man would fight for the woman he loves!"
The moment she said it, she knew she'd crossed a line, even if she didn't know why. For days now, she'd known how on edge Ryouga had been, but eventually it had sort of faded into the background noise and been forgotten or overlooked. Now, suddenly, she felt it sweep over her: a cold, icy grip that caught her breath in her throat.
Partly, she knew on an analytical level, it was her Sakkijutsu – her danger sense as a high-class martial artist – interacting with his aura, his emotions, his state of mind, and his Intent. Sakkijutsu made one very sensitive to such things, providing an incredible combat edge, but also a great vulnerability. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that if he wanted to, that if he acted on that sudden tidal wave of repressed anger and depression and despair that she had called up, that he would be able to kill her in a heartbeat.
It could have been as simple as a finger poked straight through her forehead and into her brain, a snake strike that cut through muscle and bone and impaled her heart, or even a ki attack that would shear and burn the flesh from her bones. No one, even Ranma, would be able to move fast enough to save her. Not just in spite of years of training, but because of it, she froze in fear, a dear caught in the paralyzing gaze of his headlights.
It lasted only as long as a lingering thought, and then it was gone.
She stumbled back, no longer frozen in place, but still having lost her sense of balance. Her face was ashen, like a ghost, worse: like Gosunkugi. She started to fall, but a hand reached out and caught her, pulled her in, and steadied her. Her heart was racing, her mouth dry, and her mind just barely downshifting from survival mode – fight or flight.
"Ukyou, I'm sorry. Ukyou? Ukyou?"
"L… let me go, please…" she managed, and Ryouga did so. She looked around, and saw everyone staring at them. They'd felt it, too, or a fraction of it anyway. Ranma looked tense, like he'd been in the middle of moving across the room in a single footstep, even though he knew he'd still be a millisecond too late.
"Sorry," he repeated, and bowed his head to the others, as well as her. "Sorry. I… have to step outside for a second."
Ukyou saw him go, but she felt emotionally hollow. His leaving didn't cause relief or sadness or joy or anything. She didn't even feel anything when she saw Ranma next to her, his hand on her arm and a concerned expression on his face.
"Take a break, ok, Ucchan?" He asked, smiling encouragingly, and helped her to sit back down on the tile floor. Slowly, she began to feel again, though her body still felt numb. But even with Ranma close by, she felt bad. How could she have said something to conjure up those feelings, those terrible murderous feelings, in the lost boy?
"He's going to kill someone…" she said hauntingly, looking up at her childhood friend with wide eyes. "He's going to kill someone, Ran-chan."
And, worse, Ranma didn't even try and tell her she was wrong.
Journal Entry: November 9
I had a dream about Great grandmother again. It wasn't a nightmare, though. We were training, and talking, and I was fourteen or fifteen and hadn't met Ranma yet. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about, but it was important. I think she was trying to tell me that because I don't have the curse anymore I don't have an excuse to not bring back Ranma for the Tribe. Maybe she appeared because I was going to be visiting and eating with Ranma tonight again.
Or maybe she appeared as a warning.
Who knows if dreams mean anything really? You probably want to hear about what happened after I woke up. November 9 was the day we had all been training for…
Shampoo shot out of bed, still clutching the sheets to her body.
"Alert! Alert!" The recorded voice came from a hidden speaker somewhere in her room, keyed to the communications grid. "Priority One Message! Assemble and report to duty station immediately! Code Three is in Effect!"
It was time.