VENDETTA
Yet another offering from the
Anything-Goes School of Indiscriminate Fanfic Writing
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written by Erin Mills
edited by 4cw6
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R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.
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"Once upon a time I was falling in love
Now I'm only falling apart
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart"
-'Total Eclipse of the Heart', Written by Jim Steinman
Performed by Bonnie Tyler
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TOKYO INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE, OCT. 15 2038 3:14AM
Ukyou sat on her bunk, her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms
clasped around them. It was a comfortable position after so many years
of being confined in a straight-jacket.
She had tried to sleep, but couldn't. Her mind was racing. Racing with
bitter, hateful thoughts.
No one had come to see her.
No one.
Obviously, neither Ranma nor Akane would be showing up. But the
others - Kasumi, Nabiki...Hell, even SHAMPOO would've been a welcome
sight.
But there was no one.
Even her own husband hadn't bothered to show up with their son.
That was the ultimate insult. She hadn't even been allowed to see
Kioku on her birthday. Oh, no, not her. For Hibiki Ukyou it was just
another twenty-four hours of diagnoses and examinations.
How many more tests could they take? There were only so many muscles
in the human body, only so many vertebrae and types of spinal fluid.
She was cured; couldn't the damn doctors see that? The last outburst
she'd had was when she broke an orderly's nose... five years ago. Or was
it six? Kind of hard to tell when the only way you have of telling time is
by the LCD clocks in the halls. Since then she'd been a model patient,
saying 'no, thank-you', and 'an' it please you, sir, do feel free to take
another sample of my flesh'.
It made her sick. That whole charade, that whole DISGUSTING facade
of complacency... All of that had been so she'd eventually be allowed to
see her son, to see the one she'd BIRTHED on her own birthday, and to
be once again together with her husband. Her HUSBAND. For that, she'd put
up with torments and suffered incalculable degradation.
And now, this.
"Doctor Takamoshi," she'd begun that morning, "I... I have a favour
to ask."
He'd lifted his eyes from the pad he was scribbling on, and - smiled.
It had filled her with hope, that grin of his.
"Yes?" he'd asked.
"It's my birthday today."
After a glance within the folder he'd held, he'd agreed.
"Yes, it is."
"I... Was wondering..."
"Another dream?"
"No. Just a favour."
"Ah. What kind of... favour? I've told you before, your cell is far
too small to fit an okonomiyaki griddle in, and the fire hazard, even for
just one day, is-"
"Not that."
"What, then?"
"I would like to see my son."
He'd frozen, then, and looked her straight in the eye, his face an
unreadable mask.
"Your son." No emotion.
"Yes. My son. Kioku. Hibiki Kioku."
He'd smiled again, Doctor Takamoshi had.
And the smile had grown, and burst into a laugh, a vile sound which
still rang in her ears hours afterward.
Ukyou was starting to get angry again. All right, so maybe it wasn't
all Ryouga's fault. With Takamoshi keeping her at bay like that, it was
almost impossible for anyone to get to her.
But it WASN'T anyone that she needed, that she wanted to see; it
was RYOUGA! Her husband! Why didn't he just... Blast his way in and rescue
her, or use that company of his to pull some weight?
Ukyou fingered an imaginary spatula as her fury swelled, and she felt
an urge to shout, to scream at those who'd kept her in, who'd CAGED her
then abandoned her, figuring it was easier to forget about her than to
hate her.
She fought it down. It wouldn't do any good to rant out loud. That
would only alert the orderlies and prompt another rousing game of 'Guess
the Sedative.'
She had to make do with her thoughts, her silent thoughts, just as
inaudible in her mind as when she spoke them out loud.
It's official then, isn't it? Nobody cares anymore. Nobody gives a
damn. They don't want anything to do with me. Why should they?
"Oh no," they say, "We can't see her. We can't bear to look at her in
such torment. It must be awful living like that day after day...NO SHIT! I
can't stand this place anymore! I'm sick of staring at the same four walls
every day! Oh, that was her darling husband all over. He'd go on and on
about how something made him depressed, and start that blue-green glow
of his, but when it came time to DO something about, he found it better
to sulk in the sidelines than to get involved. He probably felt so NOBLE,
following his sacred 'Bushido'. Yeah, right. Just an excuse for him
to stay away and feel good about not doing anything, while she rotted
in a padded cell. And it was no use for HER to try to get herself out
of this mess. She could talk to the doctors, tell them her every problem,
tell them she was fine now, but all they had to do was open that file and
read the words '..destroyed half of the Nerima district unassissted...' to
make them decide to slap her back in here and do more tests.
Where had her life gone? Once upon a time, she'd had Ranchan, and...
Even though she might not have admitted it then, Akane. Then along came
that ghost, and suddenly - they were gone. Taken from her. Everything
that had filled her had been removed.
Then, she'd found Ryouga, who'd made her whole for a time, and she,
too, had sealed the void in his life - or so she'd thought.
Or so she'd been foolish enough to think.
He'd seemed so kind, so gentle as he grinned, and nosebled (she'd
never forget the laundry bill for the wedding night), and yes, he held
her and whispered to her how much she meant to her...
And of course, she believed him.
When he left for days at a time, she pegged it on his lack of
direction.
Now, she was beginning to doubt it.
Damn you, Ryouga! He'd made himself a PART of her, and now that
he was gone - no... Now that he refused to be here, she was only half
herself, only partially here, and she felt it.
She felt like something was missing, doubly since her son had also
been removed from her. Kioku was TRULY of her flesh, more than what was
in the little test tubes they removed from her daily.
And he? Why didn't HE feel likewise? Why wasn't there a gap in HIS
life, that he'd do anything to bridge?
Whaddya wanna bet those weren't random trips after all.
That had to be it. The scumbag probably had girls, lined up all over
the world. A real 'travellin' man'. 'Ukyou's locked away,' he probably
said to himself, 'and so much the better. Now I can stay longer with that
'friend' of mine in Waikiki'...
Despite herself, Ukyou began to cry. She tried to stop the flow of
tears -she wanted to be angry, not sad! She should be outraged, damn it!
She should be shouting, yelling...
But somehow, she didn't have the strength to.
Even if she did, who would listen?
The only people who truly paid attention to what she said were the
journalists, early on, and now and then the occasional historian...
And always, the questions they wanted answered were about her past.
Not about her present - for nothing happened - not about her future -
for she had none - but about her PAST, what had been, about the time
when she had LIVED, when her life had MEANT something.
Not like now.
Deity, why? Why am I still on this planet where nobody cares any
more? Where no one loves me? Where all anyone will remember is the pain
and suffering I caused? Why? Why? Why?!? WHY?!?
"WHY? WHY? WHY?!" The screams burst from her lips involuntarily. She
screamed the words over and over again, until the whole ward was awake and
screaming along with her.
She fell to her knees in the centre of her room, raised her fists to
her mouth in her old habitual gesture and unleashed a shout that summed
up her decade of imprisonment.
"WHYYYYYYY?!!!!!!!"
Because...
Ukyou froze. She knew that voice. It was weak and distant, but she
recognised it. She couldn't fail to - she'd heard it in her dreams... No.
In her nightmares, night after night, year upon year, but it'd been
close to a decade since it had spoken to her in the real world.
You know why, Ukyou. You've always known...
No... Not this... Not on my birthday - there's still a chance that
Ryo-chan might-
You call him that now, after all you've done, and thought? It was
closer, now.
Get out of my thoughts!
The voice cackled.
You hypocrite, it said, and for some reason, it sounded pleased.
It was always only a matter of time, Ucchan.
It seemed to be right outside her door now, taunting her with her own
name.
"Don't call me that!"
Oh? You would prefer... Oko-chan?
Ukyou tensed and for the first time in years green ki began to glow
about her, as she instinctively crept into a battle stance.
"How DARE you use that name... You... You MONSTER!"
As much of a monster as you said your husband was?
The door creaked ajar, and Ukyou's battle aura intensified.
As much of a monster as YOURSELF?
That did it. All her depression flowed away, washed off by a flood
of pure, undiluted hatred, and she launched herself at the door as
it opened...
"Grab her arm! She's lost control again!"
"But she's glowing!"
"Use the titanium needle - ten cc's of Ono-Six."
"Isn't that a bit much?"
"Remember what she did!"
"Oh, Lord! It looks like she's about to-"
"NOW!"
The green energy surrounding her was on the brink of exploding when
they jabbed her in the arm. Ukyou felt a sharp pain, then a wave of fire
rose up her spine and exploded in her brain as the excruciation spread
along her veins and caused another detonation in her chest.
She collapsed on the floor.
The autopsy report stated that Patient #473806 died of 'a freak
inrush of blood through the veins, fatally exceeding her cardiac capacity
and resulting in aortic and ventricular disintegration'.
Or, in layman's terms, Hibiki Ukyou died of a broken heart.
"Name?"
Ukyou opened her eyes, only to find the familiar white-washed concrete
walls of her ward gone, replaced by wood panelling and plush blue
carpeting. Wherever she was, with the recent government cutbacks, it sure
as heck wasn't loony-land.
"Name?"
Name? Ukyou thought. She stood up and looked at her surroundings in
more detail. She was in a lavishly furnished, oak-panelled office.
Bookshelves lined the walls, each volume bound in coloured leather. A pair
of leather upholstered chairs stood in front of a large, ornately carved
ebony desk.
And behind the desk...
"Name?"
Ukyou looked at the person behind the desk. He was a young looking-man
dressed in a grey three piece suit. Questioning brown eyes stared at her
from behind a pair of black rimmed spectacles. Unruly brown hair flopped
down onto his left eye. The nameplate on the desk read 'Miller'.
The name meant nothing to her.
"Ku..er...Hibiki Ukyou," she answered. Miller nodded.
"Have a seat, Miss Kuonji,"
Ukyou stared at him. He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I thought that was the name you preferred."
"I...I do, but how did you--"
"We know everything on this side," Miller replied, interrupting her.
"Then why did you ask me my name?"
"Coherency test. Please, sit."
Ukyou took a seat, feeling very confused. Miller walked over to a
shelf, took down a book bound in purple leather, and returned to his seat.
"To begin with, Miss Kuonji, you're dead."
"Dead?"
"Dead. You died of a fatal cardiac haemorrhage."
"Then this is..."
"...A way-station to determine exactly where you'll fit into afterlife
society."
Uh-huh. Right.
Sorry to tell you, buster, but I don't quite feel dead.
The woman looked around. No doors or windows anywhere; not even a
ventilation shaft to serve as an exit. That left her with several
options:
a. She had been drugged, and this was just another, particularly
demented, particularly vivid hallucination. She thought she could
remember being poked with a needle just before... Just before passing
out, so that was a definite alternative.
b. Takamoshi was up to his old tricks again, and was trying to prove
she was unbalanced by placing her in a staged situation so absurd that
acceptance of it would imply that she was out of her 'yaki-flipping mind.
c. This 'Miller' was telling the truth.
Ukyou thought for a second, instantly discarded (c), pondered (a) and
finally decided upon (b) as the most likely, since her thoughts were quite
clear, and no little horned devils seemed to be crawling out of the
woodwork, as they would be in one of her drug dreams.
Pending further information, she decided to play along. Just until she
caught on to Takamoshi's game.
"So," she asked, "this is the big judgement? Just you, me and that
book?"
"Anti-climactic, I know, that's exactly what I thought when I came
over. Anyway, this book details the major events in your life. It tallies
up the good deeds and sins you performed in your life. Whichever total is
higher, after cancels are figured in--"
"Cancels?"
"Good deeds and sins cancel each other out on a one-to-one basis.
Larger sins or good deeds take out more than one of the other."
"I see," said Ukyou, putting it together. "You count up the number of
good deeds I've performed and the sins I've committed and whatever's left
over decides where I go?"
"In a nutshell."
"Seems like a stupid system to me, sugar."
Miller nodded. "I know, but the Three consider it the most fair
way."
"The Three?"
Let's see... There was Takamoshi, Gosunkugi... And... Ono?
"You'll find out more about them later. Now, then..."
Miller opened the book and began paging through it, his eyes scanning
each page at incredible speed. While she waited, Ukyou amused herself by
imagining exactly what would happen if the numbers didn't come out in her
favour.
Suppose it's like the Christian Hell... Flames, pitchforks, men
running around naked pushing rocks up hills... That could be interesting.
Hmm... But what if it's personalised? Giant okonomiyaki trying to pound me
flat with spatulas... Could I stand the torment? Ukyou smirked. Ha! What
am I saying? I've lost Ranma and spent most of my adult life in an insane
asylum. Could any Hell be worse?
"Yes, actually." Miller said, not taking his eyes off the page he was
scanning. Ukyou's eyes went wide.
"I told you, we know everything on this side."
For an instant, a flash of uncertainty crossed her mind. Maybe he WAS
telling the truth? Then common sense kicked in, and she decided that she
must have either spoken aloud or imagined the response.
While she was still puzzling it out, a look of confusion crossed
Miller's face. He backtracked a few pages and reread, then stopped in the
same place.
"What's wrong?" asked Ukyou, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.
Miller looked up at her.
"Well, it--" He was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on the
desk. He frowned.
"It's supposed to be paradise," he said, picking up the receiver.
"You'd think that there wouldn't be phones. Yes?...Mm-hm...Yes, she's just
arrived...She's balanced out...Yes! Yes, I'm sure...What?...But are you
sure that...Yes, ma'am...Yes. I'll give her the briefing. Yes. I'll see to
everything, Mittsuko. Thank you. Good-bye."
Miller hung up the phone, scowled, regained his composure and looked
at Ukyou.
"Problem?" she asked.
"Of a sort. You see, Miss Kuonji, you've balanced out."
"Balanced out?"
"All of your good deeds and all of your sins have cancelled each other
out. According to this," he gestured at the book, "aside from a few
instances involving attempted break-ups of Saotome Ranma and Tendo Akane's
engagement."
Ukyou flushed.
"And the repeated abuse of one Kurenai Tsubasa."
She turned red.
"The major sin in your life was the destruction of the Nerima
district."
He failed to see her wince.
"However," Miller continued. "Your admittance of the fact that you
needed psychiatric treatment, plus the other good deeds you've performed,
plus...other information that has come to our attention, has resulted in
that sin being cancelled, but there are no good deeds left either."
"So, what happens now?" Ukyou asked. She could guess, though. All
this psyching up, all this preparation... They were going to try to get
a confession out of her. They were going to try to make her break down
and say how crazy she'd been to do all those things, by pointing out all
her mistakes, all the things she felt worst about in her life, and then
they'd lock her up for life.
She wasn't going to let it happen.
Keeping up the charade, Ukyou smiled at her captor.
Miller closed the book and looked at her.
"How would you like to see what the end results of all those 'tests'
in the hospital were?"
"Nani?"
This... Was unexpected, to say the least.
Careful, Kuo... Hibi... Ukyou. You know how tricky the doctors can
be. Don't take anything they say at face value.
"You were used, Miss Kuonji."
Ukyou chose her words carefully.
"I... Was not aware of that."
"Do you remember those tests?"
"Which tests." A statement, not a question. She'd play it safe and
stick to the official sanatorium story.
Miller leafed through the book in front of him.
"Oh, I'm sure you remember them. Skin samples, flesh, hair, nails,
blood and... And..." His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. "And
other things."
"Oh. THOSE tests."
"Yes. THOSE tests," he said, imitating her inflection. "They were
designed to obtain genetic samples from you in order to create the
ultimate soldier."
"What? Soldier? But I-"
Miller sighed, and cut her off.
"The details aren't too important right now. You'll be briefed in
full later, assuming you acce- Ah. I'm getting ahead of myself. My
apologies. For now, all you need to know, Miss Kuonji, is that someone
down there," he pointed at the floor, "thinks your DNA is grade A
primordial soup stock."
"Why me?" This was getting stranger by the second.
"It seems your genes cancel out the bad parts in those of someone
else who they're VERY interested in duplicating and improving. The rest
is quite simple. They take a little bit of you, a little bit of him, and
mix them together to create a completely new person. Unfortunately, my
superiors don't like Life Creation rights being taken away from them. But,
that is not the issue I've been assigned to deal with. The issue here is
this: Do you want a chance to perform one last good deed?"
Silence.
The two stared at each other. Or rather, Ukyou stared at the man, who
seemed to be READING her.
"You don't believe me," said Miller at length.
"No." It didn't take a mind-reader to figure THAT out.
"And if I could prove it to you?"
This should be entertaining.
"Go ahead and try."
Miller nodded, picked up the phone once again, and dialled.
"Hello? Charon? Yeah. I need a little favour. Could you send up
3-A-L-OK? Yes, I know it's a bit out of order, but Mit- No, listen! The
Three REALLY want this done, and... Only for thirty seconds.. Half a
minute is all! Why? Well, I've got an assignment here that won't believe
she's dead. No! Don't laugh! Come on! I- Uh-huh. All right, but- Geeze!
I'm not asking you to send her to earth, it's just to- Okay. Yes, yes,
yes. Thanks. I owe you one. See you at the card game on Thursday?
Great."
click
"I had to pull some strings, but I think this'll do the trick. If
everything turns out as planned, one of your friends should-"
A knock at the door.
Or rather, it would be a knock at the door, if there were any doors in
the room. Secret passage? As it was, it was just a knock.
"That should be her right now," said Miller. "Come in!"
Ukyou's eyes widened (they seeme to be doing that a lot, lately) as a
figure coalesced in the space before her. A pale yellow glow gave way to
a woman's form, which gradually gained in definition. First a dress
filled with silk, lace and pearls, then hair, skin, eyes, and at last...
"Kuonji Ukyou, Ono Kasumi. Ono Kasumi, Kuonji Ukyou."
"K- Kasumi? You were... I thought..."
The figure in front of her smiled and nodded, looking down at her own
feet. Ukyou followed her gaze. Her shoes did not touch the ground.
"I am," said Kasumi in her usual sweet voice, "as are you."
Against her will, tears came to Kuonji's eyes.
"Kasumi... I missed you so! I think about you often... When I'm
alone, locked up, I'll remember the wedding, and that day you visited me
after... After Ra-"
The spirit shushed her, placing a finger against Ukyou's lips.
"I don't have much time," she said, and took Ukyou's hands in her own.
"I must go back, but promise me-"
"Yes?"
"Help them, Ukyou."
Kuonji's hands were still outstretched before her when the figure
disappeared.
Miller cleared his throat.
"So," he asked. "About that offer of mine... Would you like a second
chance?"
Ukyou sat in thought. One last good deed? A chance to make everything
right? If she pulled it off, maybe they'd send her to where Kasumi was.
And if she had to go back to... back to earth, No use denying it now,
sugar. You're dead as a doornail maybe could see everyone again like--No.
Don't think about the son of a bitch, this was for her. It was about time
she started thinking about herself. All her life, she'd done things for
other people; her father, Ranma, Ryo--that other person. She'd squandered
her life doing what she thought others wanted her to do. Hell, even her
attempts to break up Ranma and Akane were because she'd always believed
that Ranma wanted her to fight for him.
Well, those days were over. Permanently. Her life was wasted, she'd
make sure her death wasn't. She looked Miller right in the eye.
"Yes."
NERIMA GRAVEYARD, JAN. 17, 2094. 3:14 AM
Skeride rested against the withered oak, catching her breath. It
was almost over. After two weeks of tracking, the spirit would finally be
put to rest. He'd been a tough one. Unlike other spirits, he actually had
a will to live (not live?), but soon even this would be taken from him.
She looked at the p'ur-bu in her grip. She would take it from him.
Oh, yes. She could already feel the ectoplasm giving way beneath her
thrusts; she could almost see his unlife essence leaking out from glowing
wounds... She would enjoy this.
The creature was repugnant - more than the other 'bardo' who dared try
to stay among the living. This one had no 'unfinished business' of his
own; not trusting heaven to saddle him with misfortune, he'd taken his
re-creation upon himself. He had (like herself) studied the magic arts,
but (unlike herself) perverted them, twisting them into a mockery of their
true beauty, using the powers he gained not to purify, not to increase,
but to burden himself, to laden his soul with the sins and sorrow of
others.
It was true, thought the Gosunkugi, that she probably owed him
SOMETHING. His moral siphon, or whatever he chose to call it, enabled
many to go straight to the heavens who would otherwise have been her prey.
It took the distillation of the darkness within others and focused it into
himself. A simple enough plan. He probably thought he could cheat death
that way - when he was sure his moral balance was far less than
questionable, he killed himself. A brilliant plan, in most respects -
since the blackness within him was not his, but borrowed, no one could
propitiate his ghost - no ritual could ever put him to rest.
But she did not NEED ritual.
Skeride smirked. He'd taken all things into account, but one - for the
Dead, Thanatos bore another name, and it was printed on her student card.
She'd learned of his existence quite by accident - a man who none but
her saw at the shopping mall, who tended to glow blue every now and then.
He'd escaped her, that time, but when she'd returned home, she'd been
intrigued, and done her research. His portrait in the national gallery
was quite revealing.
As soon as she'd discovered who he was, it'd taken all of a
millisecond to decide to pursue this hunt to its conclusion, whatever the
cost. This travesty, this deliberate perversion of her Art was not to be
tolerated. She had vowed to distil the dead from the living, and here
was one who actually dared to break that order, to-
A noise.
Skeride stood back up, straightened her school jacket, and began to
scan the area.
The spirit had encouraged her by leading her into her favourite
hunting ground, the cemetery, but there was always danger in
over-confidence. She thought she'd give him a gaming head start, since
she knew every inch of the terrain, but...
Chikusho. Have I lost him?
Snow began to fall. Skeride zipped up her jacket and continued her
search, in vain. All she could see were obelisks and tomb markers in
rows, spreading around in all directions, a veritable jungle of stone. No
spirits. They must have seen her coming, and retreated to their graves.
Wise move..
But... This one HAD no grave. Not here, at least, and her wards meant
he couldn't leave by the gate, so that meant-
Skeride focused, closing her eyes and concentrating. She ran a mental
ki-scan of the area. Sure enough, the ghosts were all in their
respective homes, but something... Something was out of place, just-
Behind me?
The girl whirled around and came face to face with her prey.
"Hello, Tekii," she grinned. "Want to come out and play?"
The spirit's face went pale (well, paler, anyhow), and his jaw moved
up and down uselessly in an instinctive gesture of surprise.
Had he actually expected his trick to WORK? He was fortunate it'd
guarded him for as long as it had! Tsk. Hiding behind her back. The only
reasons she hadn't detected him were that she was cold, and that his ki
was so weak from his exertions that even the average excited liver had
more. The last would prove his undoing.
The Gosunkugi fingered her dagger, and the ghost turned and began to
run, his speed allowing him to melt through the shrines and tombstones.
Skeride followed, leaping over chunks of granite as she ran. She saw the
spirit duck into a crypt and pursued, slowly creeping up to the door.
The girl pushed the stone door of the monument tentatively with one
hand.
To her surprise, it moved.
A further push, and it swung fully open, revealing her target cowering
in the back, the moonlight painting his hands white as he tried
fruitlessly to claw his way through the wall.
Apparently, he hadn't known about the wards built into walls of
crypts. They were meant to contain the dead, so ghosts could enter, but
not leave.
So much the worse for him. Only one question remained. Would it be
the dagger, or the bubble? The dagger was fun, yes, but a second death
by it was far too quick. With the 'tamashii wana awa', the soul was
painfully squeezed, compressed in a time-consuming fashion so that it
could WATCH itself disappear into nothingness...
"Please," the shade begged, "I must stay, I must... I... I've done so
MUCH for this, I spent my life in-"
"You spent more than your life. I'm here to collect the debt."
She reached for the p'ur-bu. A little slice here, a hack or two
there... Skeride needed a little cheering up.
"I... You're a magician, too! Surely you understand! I can share
spells, potions-"
The girl withdrew her hand from her blade's sheath. The dagger
was too good for him.
"You do not belong here." Skeride began to concentrate, generating a
violet glow around her hands. "TAMASHII WANA A-"
She was cut off by a crash of thunder, followed by the sound of an
explosion. Skeride's concentration was broken, and as she instinctively
turned to investigate, the spirit in the crypt charged across the floor,
through her and out into the night.
A bolt of lightning had hit a nearby tombstone, shattering it - but
it was not of nature's kind. Before Skeride could react or chase after
Tekii, a ki shock-wave spread from the site. The force knocked the girl
down and she hit her head against the small steps that led to the door of
the crypt.
The world went black.
When she came to, the spirit was long gone. By now, the weak wards
she'd placed would have worn off, and he'd be free to roam, free to vaunt
his ill-earned second life, free to humiliate her before the Dead, telling
them how he'd escaped the famed Assassin.
Chikusho.
Who- or whatever was responsible for this wouldpay. That had been
no ordinary electrical discharge. Skeride stood up and walked over to the
destroyed tombstone.
It had buckled under the impact of the force, crumbling into small
bits of stone. Singed vegetation peeked out from from amidst the rubble.
Obviously, the monument had not been cared for.
Maybe one of the pieces has a name on it...
Skeride reached for a fragment of the stone, but jumped back when the
debris began to glow pink
Yatto. The owner must be coming to claim his prize.
Skeride ducked behind another tombstone and watched curiously at the
pink glow became a haze which flowed upwards. From within it, silhouette
began to form. No features, at first, but then...
Ah. So it's a SHE.
In a few moments the details emerged. A woman, as she'd surmised,
probably in her in her early forties, in some sort of drab
institutional clothing. A janitor, perhaps? Her hair was a rich
mahogany, accentuated by a streak of grey that ran from her left temple
down to her waist. Her eyes were a dark brown, bordering on black, and she
was going to die. Again. Very soon.
The new arrival spoke one word. "Home."
"Home."
Ukyou looked out at the enhanced skyline of Tokyo. Here an there a
new building was visible - a geodesic dome, or a mirrored skyscraper,
but all in all, the sight was a familiar one. Oh, yes, it was home all
right. But not the home she left behind.
This was a version of her home twisted and perverted by Ono Tofu for
his own selfish ends. He had wanted to go against the rule of nature, and
keep those who were rightfully dead among the living. For that, he had
sacrificed her life and turned that of many others into a veritable Hell.
And now, all of Japan was threatened. All of Japan was in peril, simply
because of his inability to accept that which was written. Tofu was gone,
but his descendants carried on his legacy.
In lieu of their progenitor, they would pay.
They wanted to keep the dead among the living?
So be it. They'd killed her themselves.
They wanted to build weapons from the dead, to turn them into
instruments of vengeance?
She was halfway there already.
Oh, yes, they would pay for the indignities they'd visited upon her
and her son. The son they had created from her flesh and blood. The son
they had programmed to kill. She had not given birth to him, but she
would give her death to his salvation.
Ukyou frowned in determination. She had lost her chance at helping
Kioku; she would not make the same mistake with Sable.
She began walking towards the gates of the cemetery, each step
bringing a new, instinctive change to her appearance.
She lost 25 years of age. The streak in her hair darkened to match
the rest on her head. Her institutional uniform became a pair of black
tights and shoes with a black tunic with white trim. A replica of her
bandolier appeared across her chest. She felt a sudden tightness in her
hair. She stopped and reached up to find her hair ribbon, done up in it's
usual bow. She frowned, undid the knot and pulled the ribbon out. She
ripped the ribbon in half along the centre and wrapped each half around
her hands. This was no martial arts challenge.
This was war.
Skeride stared at the metamorphosis the spirit had just undergone.
It had mesmerised her, causing her to forget her purpose for a
moment. This newcomer radiated power, and feeling the energy had
entranced her - no longer.
She had caused Skeride to lose her prey.
She would not leave the graveyard.
Ukyou continued walking towards the gates of the cemetery.
"Where do you think YOU'RE going?" came a voice. Ukyou looked
around, and soon found a girl of about sixteen in front of her.
The girl was dressed in a red and black body-suit and a high-school
jacket. There were dark lines under her violet eyes and a streak of white
in her hair. At her side was a ornately carved dagger with a very sharp-
looking blade. Something about the girl was familiar, but Ukyou couldn't
quite pinpoint it.
If it weren't for the fact that she could see her, she would have
guessed the girl was alive.
"That's none of your business," Ukyou responded icily. "Get out of
my way. I don't have time for this."
"I'm afraid it is my business." the girl replied, just as coldly.
She pointed a finger at Ukyou. "You don't belong here."
Ukyou's frown deepened. "Who were you?"
"My name IS Gosunkugi Skeride." The emphasis on the verb's tense was
unequivocal. She WAS alive. And a descendant of HIKARU'S?!? "And you are
a ghost that needs to be put to rest."
Ukyou laughed.
"No rest for the weary, dear. Try again next century. Now, if you
don't mind, I have something I have to do, and I really MUST be going."
"That's too bad," said Skeride. "I was so hoping you'd stay..."
A nasty-looking purple glow begin to form around the girls hands. The only
other times she'd seen that kind of effect was when Ranma or Ryouga were
about to perform one of their ultimate attacks. In either case, it meant
trouble. Ukyou's danger sense told her to get out of there, and she
listened. She spun on her heel and began hightailing it in the opposite
direction.
Skeride looked up and saw her new target fleeing. The predatory
smile returned.
This night might yet prove... Entertaining.
Ukyou risked a glance backwards. The Gosunkugi was still behind her.
I've got to ditch this psycho. She allowed herself a grim smile at her
choice of words, and touched her fingers instinctively to where the name
tag had been on her ward-room garb.
She dashed around the corner of a shrine, knelt down and listened
carefully to Skeride's footfalls on the snow.
After a moment, they stopped. The ex-chef risked a look outside her
hiding place. The girl's footprints came up to about five feet before
the shrine, and then just... stopped. Ukyou's frown returned. The last set
of footprints were side by side and seemed to skid somewhat. There were
no other prints be seen, which meant-
Ukyou rolled out of the way just as Skeride's p'ur-bu came down and
buried itself, blade first, in the ground. Ukyou glared for a moment at
the Gosunkugi (who was crouching on top of the monument), then took off
again.
"Run all you like," Skeride called. "I'll catch you eventually!"
She doesn't have to sound so bloody cheerful about it, thought
Ukyou, but she's right. Miller didn't tell me what I could do to
protect myself. Maybe he didn't know about her...
Miller's answer to her question about just preventing Sable from
being created came back to her.
We can't do that, because we'd have to eliminate the person
we're trying to protect from him. Free will's a bitch sometimes...
No kidding, pal. If only she had her combat spatula, then
she'd at least have a ghost of a chance.
Her right hand went over her shoulder instinctively, all the
while knowing that nothing would be there.
Which is why she was surprised when a familiar weight slapped
into her palm. She pulled and was greeted by the sight of a ki-based
replica of her old weapon. She acquired a predatory grin of her own.
The tables had turned.
Skeride stopped to get her bearings. The spirit had led her to
the part of the cemetery with the Millennial Crypts. These were where the
ancestors of all the REALLY old families in Tokyo were buried. Skeride
looked around for the telltale aura of her prey.
"Hey, Gosunkugi!"
Skeride spun, looking for the source of the voice.
"If you want me, you'll have to come get me!"
Skeride looked ahead of her and saw an open crypt emitting a glow from
within it. A pink glow. She secured the p'ur-bu on her belt and entered
the crypt.
Ukyou waited a moment, allowing Skeride to stumble in the dark for a
few moments before emerging from her hiding place. The Gosunkugi jumped
back and threw a hand across her eyes as the pink light poured in.
"Surprise." Ukyou said. There were three flashes of light. Skeride,
still trying to blink the spots out of her eyes, dove for the floor,
banging her chin as she did so. Ukyou vanished around the corner.
The Assassin sat up, angry at herself for being taken so easily. She
turned to look at the three throwing spatulas that were embedded in the
wall behind here, glowing with ki. Skeride vaguely remembered hearing
something about a spatula in one of her history classes, but couldn't
quite remember...
Snap out of it! she told herself. She got to her feet and
followed the fading light.
Nonetheless, she couldn't shake the feeling that this ghost was out of
the ordinary. Normally, ki-objects dissolved as soon as they left their
owners.
The culinary darts still glowed brightly when she left them.
Ukyou dashed down the maze of passageways. She figured she must be
underground. This particular family was huge and apparently did some great
things as there was only one urn in the alcoves along the walls. Honouring
the family member with his or her own wall - a luxury undreamed of in
crowded, overpopulated Tokyo. Even the living had to scramble for a
square foot or two, and to devote so much space to the DEAD...
Her curiosity overcame here and she risked a look at the family
name on the next urn she passed.
Takahashi.
She continued to run. She dashed passed more urns and more halls and
rooms. She was pretty sure she had successfully doubled back to the
entrance of the crypt.
Until she reached the dead end.
Skeride turned the corner and found her prey staring at the wall
behind her with disbelief. Skeride's smile returned. The end of the chase.
She began to concentrate.
Ukyou whirled around, danger sense acting up again, to see Skeride at
the other end of the passage. The purple glow was back.
Well, screw it. Hib-- Kuonji Ukyou wasn't going down without a
fight.
She raised the combat spatula and charged forward.
"TAMASHII WARA AWA!"
Ukyou was hit head-on with the force of the attack and was sent
sailing through the wall at the opposite end of the passage. Skeride
dashed back down to an intersection and went down the passage to her
right. She followed it around a few corners and found herself in the
room behind the passage they had just been in.
Ukyou was laying on the floor of the crypt, suffused in the purple
field. But instead of shrinking, as Skeride had expected it to do, it
appeared to just immobilise the ghost.
Plan B, then, thought the teenager. She pulled the p'ur-bu from
her belt and knelt beside the prone ghost. Ukyou looked at her with
unbridled hatred.
"Any last words?" asked Skeride, as she raised the dagger for the
kill.
"Go to Hell," said Ukyou.
Skeride smirked.
"It's too late for that. There's neither Hell nor Heaven for you
now."
Smiling, she slashed Ukyou's throat.
Ukyou screamed as the blade bit into her remembered flesh, the pain
coursing through the core of her being. It was worse than death. She
remembered death; that was... Agonising, but surmountable. This? This
was immeasurably worse. It was the pain of being undone, of having her
very soul annihilated, so no trace of her would remain. A red light began
to pour from the path of the blade. It glowed and pulsed, the red
spreading over her body, enveloping her in a suffocating cloud. Ukyou's
screams were lost as the crimson cloud began to fade.
Soon, all that was left in the crypt were the urns and Skeride.
The Assassin rose to her feet, stuck the p'ur-bu back in her belt,
dusted off her jacket and began to find her way out of the crypt.
Go to Hell, indeed, she thought. Bloody Christians.
"Dammit!" Miller cursed. He slammed down the phone and stared at the
grey-suited Asian woman across from him.
"Gosunkugi Skeride got her. She's in limbo."
"Should I make the reclamation arrangements?"
"No," Miller said, glaring at the phone. "Orders. Kuonji Ukyou stays
there until we need her again."
"Orders? Whose orders? The Three?"
Miller shook his head and fixed his colleague with a cold stare.
"Higher."
"You mean-?"
"Yes."
"Then aren't we-?"
"Using her like OnoCorp used her? You betcha."
"So, what do we do?"
Miller looked at the book on his desk, picked it up and dropped it
into the waste-basket next to his desk.
"Nothing."
On her way out of the cemetery, Skeride paused at the ruined
gravestone. Her curiosity had not left her, and so she knelt down and
began to pick through the rubble. After some time, she found a dusty
fragment with the name of the person buried there. The given name was
charred and unreadable, but the first two characters of the family name
revealed themselves with a little polishing.
Skeride's eyes widened in shock.
HI BI
The realisation of what she had just done caused her stomach to go
queasy. She closed her eyes and began to weep.
"Reiraku, I'm so sorry..."
Somewhere, in complete darkness illuminated only by her own aura,
Kuonji Ukyou opened her eyes.
There was nothing to see, no sounds to hear, no scents to smell.
Nothing but her own glow. She held up her hands, and as they passed her
throat, she saw them bathed in a red light.
Ukyou unwrapped the ribbons from her hands and held them together.
Summoning her will, she fused the two halves together and transformed the
ribbon into a delicate white scarf.
She wrapped the cloth around her neck, blocking the red glow, then
concentrated more until her ki-aura faded, leaving her in total darkness.
When that was done, she drew her knees up under her chin and clasped
her arms around them.
And time began seriously to pass...
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