Nabiki the Uninformed
Nabiki sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, scribbling in a small notebook. It had been a busy day for her at school.
"Let me see…So, Rui Tachibana owes me 5000 yen, Miyoko Yamane owes me 3000…And, ah, maybe I should increase the interest on Ranma's debt by ten percent? No, that's too cruel. Fifteen percent it is."
Nabiki smiled, and leant back against the wall. She had reason to be happy. Earlier this week, a new battle-happy martial artist had arrived, ready to pummel the best that Nerima had to offer. And for once, the one to take up the challenge wasn't Ranma. No, he was away elsewhere in Tokyo with Genma and Soun, called away to combat a cursed ricebowl or something. Nabiki had laughed at that at the time, but truth be told, fact often was stranger than fiction. At least in Nerima, at any rate.
Anyway, the betting pool of Furinkan students was becoming too used to Ranma winning fights, so what could be better than a change of combatants to tip the odds in Nabiki's favour? She'd clean up at the betting table and have the dubious honour of watching Ryoga fight the new guy, who apparently specialized in Martial Arts Origami, which should be interesting, and if it wasn't Nabiki would want to know why.
She reached for her headset and tuned it to a specific frequency…Akane's room.
"And how are you today, little sister?" Nabiki muttered under her breath.
The line crackled at first, then steadied, with Akane's voice coming through clearly.
"Baka!" she heard Akane say. "Baka! Bakabakabakabakabaka! What a stupid, perverted, insensitive jerk! BakabakabakabakabakaBAKA!"
Nabiki winced, and turned the volume down a notch. She hadn't needed a hidden microphone to hear her sister right then. What had happened to make Akane angry? Ranma wasn't even on the same side of Tokyo this time! If it was his fault, that had to be breaking even his illustrious record.
Footsteps tapped along the hallway. Nabiki bundled her spying equipment away under her bed. She didn't like being caught spying, although everyone knew she did.
Kasumi opened the door softly.
"Nabiki?" she began. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I forgot to tell you earlier that I won't be cooking dinner tonight."
"You won't? Are you going out?" Nabiki sounded less surprised than she was. Kasumi never went out this late!
"Yes…" said Kasumi. Then she blushed. "I'm going to a restaurant with Dr. Tofu…"
"Have fun then," Nabiki smiled. About time, she thought. But wait. If Kasumi was out, and only she and Akane were left at home… "Is Akane planning on cooking?"
"Oh, I'm sure she's improving." said Kasumi mildly.
Right. Sure she is, thought Nabiki.
"Or you could cook, Nabiki. When did you last cook?" Kasumi looked thoughtful.
"Err…no, I'll order a takeaway." Didn't Kasumi remember the last time she'd cooked? Nabiki's talents, like Akane's, lay not in the culinary arts. Eh, but wasn't the world of business more interesting anyway? Akane might set great store by being able prepare a good meal, but the true art was to never have to cook, right? Besides, Nabiki knew when to give up – which was always right before the kitchen blew up…
"That's fine," Kasumi glanced at Nabiki's clock. "Oh! My, I ought to get ready, or else I might be late."
"Of course. Have fun on your date." Nabiki mentally flicked through which takeaway to get. Pizza, sushi, or Chinese? She could get a good price at the Nekohanten, or -
DRIIINNNGADINGG
"Oh, the doorbell. I'll get it…" Kasumi moved to leave.
"No, no. I'll get it. You should get ready to go." said Nabiki hurriedly, tugging her sister's arm. Kasumi shouldn't be late for her first date in years, should she now? The more independent Kasumi got now, the better for Nabiki later.
***
There was no one at the door. But there was a letter, addressed to one Ms. Nabiki Tendo. She stuffed it in her pocket, supposing it to be a re-payment of money owed to her. She would have opened it then, but the audible clang of pots from the kitchen gave her new motivation to order a food delivery while she still could.
Nabiki set the phone down with a click. There! No matter what Akane said, she'd still have something to eat.
"Are you going now?" she said, as Kasumi walked past. Her sister wore a long blue dress, plainer and more modest than Nabiki would have picked herself, but still nice.
"Do you think he'll like it?" asked Kasumi. She fiddled with her bag for a moment, in need of re-assurance.
"Don't worry! You'll knock him dead."
"I hope not…" said Kasumi absently. "Well, I'd better go."
"Bye." Nabiki closed the door, and went to flop on the sofa.
Ah yes, the letter. She dug it out of her pocket, and carefully ripped open the edge, so as to not damage any money that might be inside, and took out a folded piece of paper. Typed in all capitals, it read:
DEAR MS. NABIKI TENDO
YOU MAY NOT BE AWARE OF THIS, BUT YOU ARE NOT, AS YOU PROBABLY BELIEVE, THE BEST INFORMED PERSON IN NERIMA. YOUR SURENESS IN YOUR ABILITIES MAKES YOU CARELESS. BEAR IN MIND THAT YOU DO NOT SEE ALL, FOR THER IS MUCH THAT YOU MISS. THERE ARE COUNTLESS MORE SECRETS HERE THAN YOU KNOW OF. I SUGGEST YOU PAY MORE ATTENTION.
YOURS,
A TRULY INFORMED CITIZEN.
"What the…? No money, just a crank letter? Pity." Aw, and here she was hoping for something good.
Nonsense. After all, no one knew as much as she did about goings-on in Nerima. And soon she would also know who had sent this letter. Why have an extensive information network if you don't use it? Nabiki dismissed the note as unimportant.
Without Soun, Genma, Ranma, or Kasumi around, the house seemed empty. Quiet, and still.
"Wait…quiet?" But Akane was cooking! Or had her little sister finally seen the light and given up? Not likely. So why didn't the kitchen sound like the battlefield Akane always made it?
Nabiki peered cautiously in to the kitchen, fearing the worst – that Akane might've eaten her own cooking and would need her stomach pumped – but she saw no fallen figure on the tiles. Akane wasn't there. Nabiki padded further in to the kitchen, amazed. The place was spotless. She sniffed the air, not detecting burnt rubber or scalded milk, but only the pleasant smell of cooking pastry. The realization hit Nabiki with a shock – Akane had managed to operate the oven! And, as far as she could ascertain, at the right temperature.
"Interesting…"
A tray of biscuits lay on the counter, cooling. They looked delicious. Nabiki picked one up and started nibbling before she knew what she was doing.
"Ah!" she dropped the biscuit, horrified. Then her face blanched. "These…these are good!"
Stepping away from the counter, Nabiki waved a hand in front of her face.
"Am I hallucinating? No, no I'm not. So Akane didn't cook these." Breathing more heavily than usual, she resumed her search.
One book, lying over near the oven, looked out of place in the pristine kitchen. Kasumi never left her recipe books out of place, and in fact hardly ever needed to use them anymore, knowing most recipes off by heart. Akane borrowed them all the time, but might as well not, for all the attention she paid to them. Nabiki picked the well-thumbed book up and tried to squeeze it back on Kasumi's bookshelf. It didn't fit. Because it wasn't Kasumi's book. Scrawled on the cover were the words: Akane's Cooking Record.
Heh. This ought to be good. A whole book of Akane's disasters, she thought. I never bothered reading it…
It was a wonder that her sister thought her cooking worthy of recording, really.
***
A more emotional person would have dropped the book, or fallen to her knees in shock. Maybe stared in to space for a minute, trapped in thought. Nabiki did none of these things. She merely focused her attention more firmly on the open pages of Akane's Cooking Record.
She'd expected cooking disasters. She'd expected failure. She'd expected photos of Akane holding up plates of unidentifiable and inedible toxic substances, smiling as if it was the best cooking on the planet. Well, okay, there were pictures of Akane smiling like that in the book…
She'd expected there to be scribbled tales of woe and overcooked sashimi. Burnt fish cakes and lumpy custard would not have surprised her in the least. Certificates of Excellence in the Field of Cookery didn't enter the equation. At first Nabiki thought that her sister had flipped, and forged these awards and certificates to ease the pain of a wounded ego, but that was impossible. These were legit. Nabiki knew the art of forgery quite, quite well.
Nabiki replaced the book where she found it, realizing that wherever Akane was now, she'd likely be back soon. Rather than hiding around the corner from the room, where she might be found by an angry little sister, Nabiki settled for planting a bug under the counter.
Strange. I've never bugged the kitchen before…Never needed to. Kasumi's usually the only one in here, apart from whenever Akane feels like wrecking the place.
Only now it looked like Akane could cook. Nabiki felt like she ought to be in shock. All this time, and she'd never known, and never suspected. Why was Akane hiding this?
Nabiki's pride in Akane's acting ability was severely overshadowed by irritation. After all, Nabiki was now the only Tendo daughter that couldn't cook. Aaargh.
End of Part One