A Ghost of Christmas Past

"There is a call for you Tendo-sama" Midori said from the office door. Nabiki was sat in her spacious office deep within one of the most expensive districts of downtown Osaka. It may not have been Tokyo but per square foot her office cost more than many hotel rooms. The office was a study in understated style, designed to focus a visitor's mind on the room's main occupant, Tendo Nabiki, CEO of Araska security division. That the company was really a very profitable front for the head of Japan's Yakuza council was entirely beside the point.

They had come to her in school and, as the saying goes, 'made her an offer she couldn't refuse.' Within the week she had moved from local entrepreneur to national player. By the end of the month she had more money going through her hands every week than her father had earned in his whole life, and was on a salary to ensure her 'honesty.' She had moved out of Nerima and never looked back. A small slice, a very small slice indeed, of her earnings went to support the dojo, and these days she didn't even bother to check it was still standing.

A little niggle in her mind regretted not going to university but she had bought enough qualifications to know that all she had really wanted from college she could have at the snap of her fingers now. She put it down to that long buried part of her that still wanted to be am innocent naïve girl who had never had to break the law.

"Who is it Midori-chan?" Nabiki asked.

"He claims to be your brother in law boss" Midori replied with a happy smile, the way her boss used that endearment just melted her deep down.

Now this threw Nabiki for a loop, there was simply no way that Tofu could have got this number, and she really wasn't keen on talking to him anyway. Any reminder of the 'good deed' she had done to put Tofu and Kasumi together made shivers run down her spine.

"Get a message" Nabiki replied, intent on not dealing with this now. She had a very interesting date lined up with a young gangboss. Toko had run the biggest Bozuka gang in Japan and was only now breaking into the big boy's world. He looked fine for the biker trash he was and Nabiki had every intention of enjoying him before the idiot got his cute ass capped.

Nabiki gave it no more thought until she was ready to leave. Now dressed in a killer black pin striped skirt-suit combination and some very serious heels she took the time to briefly admire her reflection. She knew she looked fantastic but that new haircut was worth every one of the one hundred and ten thousand yen she had paid for it. Yes she could have bought a stolen car for the same price but as the add said she 'was worth it.' She picked up her small bag and slung her coat over her shoulders and was in the elevator before she even registered picking up the message from Midori's lingering hand.

On the way down to her secure car park she idly opened the note and read what Tofu had to say, probably just another attempt to get her to come for Christmas. Only it wasn't, it wasn't about Christmas and it wasn't from Tofu. From beyond the grave came a message from Saotome Ranma, asking her to call him.

From Saotome Ranma +852 440 677 9899
To:Time: 17:45
Message:

Anyone for special blend?

Her heart raced, her vision blurred, either someone really knew how to yank her chains or somehow the pig-tailed boy was still alive. Here written on a stupid piece of tissue thin message paper was an old code-word she had developed with him before his death, a word that as far as she knew nobody else even knew existed. She had to fight the urge to call him from the lift. Instead she decided to wait until she was home.

The luxury imported sedan raced through the Rainy Osaka streets, driven by Nabiki's voluptuous chauffeur come bodyguard come occasional bedfellow, Tagshi Leta. But Nabiki saw nothing other than those last days of Nerima.

"Biki-chan I gotta go," Ranma said, lying next to her, still covered in sweat from their, 'talk' "There just isn't anything left here for me."

"Not even me? Nabiki asked teasingly, idly nipping at his dangling pigtail.

"I think you made it very clear where we stand Biki-chan" Ranma replied, with a hint of anger that had taken Nabiki years to place.

"So you are just going to run out on all the fiancées?" Nabiki asked, not really caring.

"Yup" Ranma replied, "I'll hav'ta fix things up a bit but yeah"

"And what of me, where shall I go what shall I do?" Nabiki lamented in as overacted way as she could manage.

"Frankly my dera I don't…"

"Give a damn" Nabiki finished for him.

"Yep one of those" he said, running his hand up her naked stomach to her ample chest.

"So I am going to be used and cast aside like some cheap-

"Don't say it" he hushed her, placing a finger gently on her lips. "Never say.." She bit his finger playfully.

"I wasn't even thinking about that" she replied. "Its old news. And besides that shithead is the one hiding in fear not me!" she added with a lack of concern that was mostly bravado. It hadn't been until very recently that Nabiki had managed to place exactly what had happened to Kinnosuke and even now it was more guess than evidence. She still found it hard to believe Ranma had changed so much after the wedding.

"Where you going?" she asked, always after an angle.

"Like I would tell you," he replied, half jokingly.

"You would if you loved me" she pouted, just as jokingly.

"Biki-chan" he whispered, stroking her face, and leaning in for a kiss. "If I thought for one moment…"

"What?" she said, yanking his braid, "You know I hate it when you get all deep and mysterious like that." But he had managed to distract her by other means and she had never got her answer. The next day Ranma was gone, the week after they had buried him.

o

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Her penthouse apartment was dark as she walked in, a quick clap sorted that and a wave of her expertly manicured hand switched her state of the art music system on. She slinked over to her patent leather couch and sat, picking up first her fluffy grey cat and then her phone. Even so she found it hard to dial the numbers, Ranma was still a tender spot on her consciousness. She knew that she had wrecked the poor guy for her own amusement and even she had to feel a little shitty for it. The truth was at the time she had needed him and he hadn't known what hit him until it was too late. It had worked out fantastically for her, just the sort of therapy she had needed but he had never been the same afterwards.

His marriage to Akane had been doomed from the beginning, everybody must have known that deep down, there certainly weren't that many tears shed by her family at that dissolution. Not that Akane's second marriage was any better, or any less fatal, but at least that one appeared to have hurt her rather than just angered her. To this day she still could not get over the elder Saotome's nonchalance; it had taken them little more than a shrug to decide to try again with the next one.

To be honest the person who seemed most cut up about the whole thing was Kodachi, who very nearly cut herself up over the pig-tailed boy's demise. Of course Nabiki knew the secret basis of that hero-worship complex and could hardly begrudge the girl her grief.

By the time Nabiki had taken up her post in Osaka Ranma's Nerima had fallen to pieces. All the weirdoes that he had drawn to him disappearing back into the woodwork and leaving the whole area strangely empty. Even the nutter kendoist had found a new hobby and disappeared to the other side of the world to pursue it.

"You are stalling" Nabiki told herself and started to dial. As the phone started to ring at the other end she found herself holding her breath.

"Hello" said a deep velvet voice in pure unaccented English.

"Moshi moshi" she replied, testing the proverbial waters.

"Ohayou" replied the voice in just as perfect enunciated Japanse. "What can I do for you?"

"A childhood friend of mine gave me this number" Nabiki replied. "Asked if I wanted a special blend of tea."

"Tendo Nabiki?" the voice asked.

"Maybe?" Nabiki replied, growing more wary.

"Hang on, I'll get the boss" the voice answered. Nabiki raised an eyebrow in silent wonder and waited, hearing only a few odd clicks and silence.

"Ossu" came a voice that was unmistakably Ranma, it had that same self-assurance and rough lilt that had driven so many to lust after him. "Biki?" he asked.

"Maybe?" she replied, smiling and settling deeper into her couch.

"Look now really isn't a good time beautiful" he added. "Can you call again in like maybe half an hour?" She was just about to agree when she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

"Oi!" she demanded "what is going on there?"

"Oh sorry Biki" Ranma answered "some dog-soldiers were trying the back door."

"Dog-soldiers?" Nabiki asked.

"Ya know- fuzz" Ranma replied, over another burst of fire. "Look I really gotta go, them shitheads are getting smarter."

"Ranma" Nabiki asked "I really don't want to be involved with a cop killer"

"Shit" Ranma shouted, and Nabiki heard a sharp 'thwack' noise, "tosser!" he swore. "Look Nabs" he continued "Trust me okay, this is not nearly as bad as it sounds." But in the background she could make out that first voice shouting "DIE!" repeatedly and punctuating it with gunfire.

"Okay" Nabiki conceded "we'll talk later"

"Cheers sexy" he replied and the line went dead.

"Since when did he call me that?" Nabiki mused at her cat. "And just how long has he been getting into firefights?"