It's been really, really, really hectic at work in the coming holidays. That and my monitor's still isn't fixed. T_T
Before I forget, I waive any claims on any characters from Ranma 1/2. I just did a little name-dropping.
Just a quick warning for the foul language used in this chappie.
On with the madness!
Assignment III: Aoshi and the Banshee
Ultrapoink. Writer of several fanfics from different realms, especially about a brilliant, yet aloof basketball player. Favorite genres are romance, drama, or comedy, or a mixture of any two. Her...
Aoshi let his hand drop to his side, holding the scroll loosely between two fingers. He's read enough. Romance again.
Everything went dark once more, and then light came gradually, illuminating a closed door. As he turned the knob quietly and opened the door, steam came at him in a lazy swirling mist. He tensed automatically, reaching for his kodachi that wasn't there. When the haze cleared, he saw a girl with large, shocked eyes wrapped in a towel. Wearing just a towel.
"Eeep!"
Explain yourself out of this one.
"OUT!"
He easily dodged the objects thrown at his way, glancing at each item flying past him. Interesting what she can find in her anger.
Zing! "I wasn't"--dodge--"doing"--zip, duck--"anything--"
"Oh, just get out, will you?" she wailed, not pausing as she threw a bathroom item after another.
Aoshi closed the door behind him, shaking his head. Those... people... can find out every bit of information about these writers, but they can't drop me off properly. He sat on the stool by the dresser table and waited.
The bathroom door finally opened and Ultrapoink emerged, her head wrapped in a towel and, this time, clad in a yellow bathrobe. The minute she stepped out of the door, she gave him a dirty look.
"Didn't figure you to be a pervert."
"I didn't know that the door led to the bathroom," Aoshi explain. He gave mental pause. The excuse sounded so pathetic. I'll remember to talk to those Muses, he thought darkly.
Ultrapoink shot him another look as she went to her desk and picked up a small yellow notebook.
"Just make yourself busy with this while I change," she ordered as she handed him her notebook, heading to another door. "And stay put."
Casually scanning the first pages, half of the notebook was based on a certain Rukawa and Reiko. Then Aoshi finally reached the pages that looked familiar to him, and started to browse further into detail. They were mostly summaries and rough drafts:
Aoshi and Misao are treasure hunters on a hunt for a... No...
Aoshi lost his girlfriend in an accident, meets a cheerful neighbor named Misao, they--No.
Special Alpha Force Agent Misao Makimachi is hot on a trail for the most elusive double agent Aoshi Shinomori... Where have I seen that before?...
Kaoru, Misao and Megumi are best friends in high school, until chaos comes in the form of sleek and sophisticated Literature instructor Aoshi-- What?!
After being dumped by Aoshi, Misao succumbs to depression and leaves the-- NO.
Ultrapoink has been very busy, Aoshi noted. But the latest draft caught his eye. A woman with mysterious ties to the Oni wa Banshu comes knocking at the Kamiya dojo. This was something new. It certainly looked more promising than the others.
Ultrapoink emerged as if on cue, wearing a loud yellow top with the words 'Girls on Top' emblazoned red amidst painted flowers, and light blue shorts.
"The draft you titled 'Dance with the Past' has promise," Aoshi remarked, using his words carefully.
A small smirk played on her face. "Well, I'm glad you noticed it," she responded. "It's actually one that's been playing around in my head." She reached over and flipped over several pages. "Here are the scenes I've got so far. Not in stone yet, so to speak."
The first few paragraphs told briefly how a stranger showed up at Kori's door and called Kenshin out...
Aoshi blinked several times. Kori? When it dawned on him, he mentally shook his head. Why can't they get the names right?
He read on. The stranger almost beats Kenshin in the same style Aoshi used. But before she deals the death blow, the mask was torn to reveal a woman's face, with rich beautiful green hair (--Green?--) and gray eyes. Kenshin was quietly smitten by her beauty, while Sano was instantly attracted to her.
Jump to a random scene. Aoshi is quietly drinking tea in the temple when he gets a visitor. It was Reiko.
Aoshi paused in reading, rolled his eyes then continued.
"Reiko" triggered floods of memories of his past before he left Aoiya. He and Reiko argue, him asking why she left, her asking why he didn't look for her.
"So why didn't I 'look for her'?" Aoshi asked Ultrapoink for the sake of asking.
"Hello?" Ultrapoink peered at him with wide eyes, hands on hips. "Because you went temporarily ballistic and went after Kenshin's hide?"
He seemed to be reminded of that little fact every time.
"And?" he prompted.
"And??" Her tone raised a notch. "And that's what you're here to help me with! Cheez..."
"Granted, she's part of my past, what is she like? What is her part in my past?"
Ultrapoink flicked her gaze to the ceiling, tapping her chin. "Lessee... She was part of the Oni wa Banshuu..."
"You mean Oniwabanshu."
She spared him a glance. "Whatever. Anyway, she was part of your gang and she left before you did."
There was something else... Aoshi frowned slightly. "Meaning to say I left because of her." To this, she nodded. "Why?"
Her eyes went round again. "Isn't it obvious, Iceman?" Ultrapoink was screeching, her arms flailing. "You're in love with her, ya big dope!"
She was expecting a surprised reaction from him. He was, but he'll be damned before he let her know that. "I am?" he said for the sake of showing a reaction and nothing more.
"Yes!" she exclaimed emphatically. "That's why you've been moping around, living like a hollow shell! Reiko walked out of your life, and now that she's back, you don't know what to do!"
Ultrapoink had begun pacing madly in front of him as he watched.
"What?" She looked unnerved by his lingering gaze.
"In essence, would you say the Reiko you wrote about for that other character is the same Reiko you're pairing me up with?"
Ultrapoink looked genuinely surprised by his question. "Uh... yeah?" came her slow reply. Her hands were on her hips again as she stared back defiantly. "What's wrong with that?"
Aoshi leaned back with a nonchalant shrug. A frontal attack is the best tact for this one. He needed to end this now. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with living out your fantasies. Perhaps you should get a suitor."
A full second. That was how long it took for Ultrapoink's cheeks to flush pink. Her hands froze to her sides.
"Like... it's none of your business!" she burst out. "Besides, I'm too young to think about that! Besides, I have studies to think about and..."
Aoshi held up a hand. He's heard enough. His sensitive ears could only take so much. He handed her the notebook and stood up.
Ultrapoink gave him a scowl. "And just where do you think you're going?"
Aoshi half-turned to her. "You'll need to read about the Tokugawa timeline for any of those flashbacks with... Reiko and I."
"Whaaaat?" Now she was wailing.
"To get the feel of the scene," he went on unperturbed. "You have to know what it is like in that time: What clothes were worn, what the political atmosphere was like, the culture..."
The girl gave him a blank gaze. "You're kidding, right?"
He leveled a gaze at her. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
"And you're leaving me here to do the digging on my own when you actually lived there, and can, like, tell me??" Ultrapoink groused.
It was Aoshi's turn to give the exasperated look. "Who is the writer here? Besides, I am actually going to help you find what you need."
"How?" Ah, she knows how to be skeptic...
"By showing you where to look," he answered. "I will do my work, you do yours." He turned away.
"So that's it, then?" Aoshi heard her say, the wind taken out of her sails.
Hn. It's about time.
"Fine, then," Ultrapoink said with mock enthusiasm. "I'll just plow my way through the web and see what I could scrounge up."
He continued walking to the door. Sympathy was the last thing on his mind. "There are still things called books."
She was shaking her head. "Ooooh no. I'm not even gonna go near the library."
"Suit yourself."
As the door closed behind him, his surroundings beginning to dim, he allowed himself a thin smile. The beauty of being a spy...
Assignment IV: Talk Dirty to Me
The next writer in the scroll was... Oh, no. Chicslickchick. He worked with her on some occasions. Her style was different, he recalled, as his dark surroundings lightened. The ground had disappeared under his feet, but he didn't fall. In fact, he felt his legs begin to work, progressing to a run. His right arm was raised, strong fingers wrapped around the cold metal of a Beretta. He also noted his onmitsu uniform had been replaced with modern clothing. There was still the long coat, then buttoned-down shirt and pants. The next thing he knew, he was running alongside cars, swiftly passing through speeding traffic.
Aoshi cursed silently. He just hated Chicslickchick's "reenactment" (dunno what term to use style.
He instantly spotted his perpetrator, or at least he's made to think so. He was closing in. The man ducked into a narrow side-street. As Aoshi anchored himself on a street sign to make the sharp turn, he saw the felon run into a dead end, in a form of a high chain link fence.
Aoshi skidded to a halt several feet away as the blonde man tried to climb up the fence. Aoshi fired a shot, missing the man's gravity-defying hair by inches.
"Give it up, asshole, you've got nowhere to go!" he roared. Wait. I roar?
The guy stopped his frantic climbing, his shoulders drooping, and turned to face Aoshi. He regarded him with one squinting eye.
"Well, if it ain't the legendary Det. Shinomori on the beat," he greeted sarcastically. "Getting any lately?"
Aoshi advanced a step. "Shut up, you little prick!" he snapped. "Make any stupid move. Please." He tensed on his grip.
... Since when did I get so vulgar?!
The perp's lips rounded. "Oho, tough words from a tough guy," he taunted, "Are you a tough guy, huh?"
Aoshi gave a little smirk. "You'll find out real soon, you bastard."
Said bastard made a beckoning gesture. "Bring it on, bitch."
I can't stand this anymore... "Is this really necessary?" Aoshi asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He whisked around, facing upwards.
"Hey. Hello? Um, Aoshi? The perp's right here," his captive reminded him. "Quit talking to yerself."
Aoshi ignored him. "Will I arrest him, will I shoot him, or will we be swearing at each other to death?"
"Well, if you ask me," the other tried again, "I'd go for the third option. It's safer."
"Be quiet, Cho."
He felt rather than saw Cho shrug his shoulders. "Fine. Get us in trouble, then."
What's the problem now?
The female's voice boomed all around them. Aoshi saw Cho jump at the sound. "Are they all this scary?"
"You haven't seen half of it," Aoshi murmured.
I heard that.
Aoshi ignored Chicslickchick's threatening tone. "Couldn't you have at least told us beforehand what this is about?"
"Uh, you gotta admit, Clickslickkick, Aoshi's got a point," Cho pointed out, scratching his head.
It's Chicslickchick, she corrected.
Cho waved it off. "Yeah. Sure. Can't you tell the story like normal people do? So us simple-minded muses can get your drift."
"Speak for yourself."
Cho gave the onmitsu a withering look. "Hn. Cute, Aoshi..."
Sorry, Chicslickchick spoke up. That's how it works for me. I gotta whip up the scene in my head before writing it down. Like shooting a movie.
Only backwards, Aoshi added to himself.
"But the dialogue, for cryin' out loud! Can't you do something about that? I sound like some dirty, low-life scum."
"You are." Aoshi and the writer blurted out in unison.
The blond man put a hand over his chest. "Oh, that hurts," he lamented cynically. Hit me right here, Chickslickety."
The name is Chicslickchick!
Aoshi looked up again. "What is the story about?" he pressed.
Er, story?
"Yeah!" Cho put in. "What's with the chase around the city gimmick?"
Well...
She was taking too long to answer. "There is no story, is there?" Aoshi finished for her.
Oh, uh--my! You're pretty sharp there, Aoshi! She let out a shaky laugh. Isn't he, Cho?
Cho wasn't listening. He was seething. Turning red and seething.
"No... story?" he grated. "No script, no mock-up, no written story???" A vein on his temple threatened to burst.
"What are we here for, then?" Aoshi drew her attention again. He could practically see her tapping her forefingers together.
Cuz, y'see... Chicslickchick began to explain haltingly I can't think of a good storyline yet. I watched this cool cop show, and I thought, 'What if Aoshi's a cop on the beat?' And...
Aoshi blew out a breath. "And that's it," he appended flatly.
Uh, ye-eah, she said slowly. But I'm working on the storyline. Honest! she hastily added.
My precious time, wasted. For this.
Cho was shaking his fist in her general direction, or at least where they think she is. "You drag me out here, Shlicky, just to Show and Tell? I oughta--"
You wouldn't threaten a mere high school student, would you, Cho? Chicslickchick gasped. How could you! To think I'm giving you a cha--you're leaving, Aoshi?
Aoshi was starting to walk out of the alley. "Call me when you have a real story," he called out.
But, but... what if it takes me ages to come up with one?
And to think she was yet to finish one of several... "That would be a shame, wouldn't it?" Aoshi remarked coolly as he walked off. "You best be on your way, Cho."
Cho blinked at him in response, his fury momentarily forgotten. "Uh, yeah... sure."
These people were driving him insane. And made him hungry. It was almost noon, Aoshi estimated, that he decided to have lunch at the Aoiya.
That is, after he wash his mouth out thoroughly.
Aoshi had to admit to himself: food can satisfy a man. That and being able to thrash someone. He hadn't done that lately that he thought he should have, especially during the last four outings. Why couldn't he find a decent writer that could pit him into worthy battles? But then, he hadn't found any writer who came out with anything decent to his liking. Okina once called it finicky. He insisted it was "quality control". Misao thought it was "a good challenge."
Aoshi was graced with their company at the meal table, who were quiet in the first few moment of their lunch. Aoshi knew tongues will get restless. He didn't care; it was either these two rather than a flock of rabid, over imaginative writer.
"So, how did your day go, children?" Okina asked genially. But Aoshi sensed his eyes were on him.
"I don't want to talk about it," was Aoshi's quiet reply, not broaching any argument.
"You don't always want to talk about it!" Either Okina couldn't take a hint or he was deliberately goading him.
"I don't see a need to." His chopsticks dug quickly into his rice bowl.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Misao set her bowl down. "Was it that bad?" she asked out of genuine curiosity.
"One had you land me on my backside, one had the temerity to write me as Kamiya's suitor, the third paired me with some woman stronger than Himura himself, and the last writer simply has no idea what she's doing." He didn't wait for any reaction and went on eating.
Both listeners were stunned to silence, having hardly heard him talk at length. It was short-lived as Okina broke into shameless laughter and Misao tried to suppress her giggling. Aoshi gave out a long-suffering sigh.
"It seems that these ladies know what you need in your life," Okina snickered.
"And that is?" Aoshi had to ask.
"Why, a woman!" Okina pointed out, making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's apparent that they are intimidated by your character that a change is in order." His eyes took on a suspicious gleam. "And what more can be appropriate than having someone tame that cold, ruthless heart of yours? Why I'm sure they--"
"No, you're not," he interrupted what was going to be a speech on improving his social life. Why can't people leave his personal life be? They all act as if he couldn't handle his own affairs. And that business of pairing Misao and himself...! Aoshi had to rally his self-control to stop from shuddering. She was practically her little sister! How could you fall in love with someone you changed diapers for?
"But why don't you want to get involved with a woman?" Misao asked unabashedly.
"Because I do not want to." Aoshi uttered every syllable for emphasis without sounding rude. And that was the end of that argument. He relished the annoyed look on the older man's face.
Unfortunately, Okina wasn't to be put out. "What about you, angel?" he asked sweetly, turning to Misao.
Misao literally came to life. "It was great! I was paired off in a comedy with Soujiro, then an action adventure with Enishi... oh, and that reminds me!" Their young ward turned to Aoshi. "Li'l Moonbeam says she needs help on your dialogue in her story of us together."
Aoshi was tempted to ask which one since there was so many fanfiction works of them as a couple that he lost track. Their pairing was a novelty at the beginning; but, when the same theme is written every day, as the young people would say, it gets old very fast. The usual plot was so commonplace that he would have written out the story for the wretched writers himself.
Aoshi cocked a brow. "I have a dialogue...?" He said instead as he brought the tea to his lips.
Old Okina was shaking his head. "What is it with you and madmen that attracts them so, Misao-chan?"
Misao's aura suddenly flared. Aoshi chose that moment to draw the dish of smoked eel to himself with his chopsticks. The girl's palm slammed onto the table where the plate used to be. He picked at the meat and went on eating unperturbed. Misao used to be subdued around him. But when her very first outburst in his presence (also caused by Okina) caused no reaction from him, she had since let out the spitfire in her as she pleased. Aoshi was, in fact, privately amused by her volatile temper, and never tried to reprimand her.
"Hey! At least we get writing assignments." She backed down with one look from Aoshi, but she retained a wicked grin. "Unlike a certain you-know-who who does nothing but chase tail."
It was Okina's turn to grin, too unsettling for their liking. Aoshi and Misao cast each other a suspecting glance.
"Ah, you'll be proud of me now, girl," the old man announced as he tugged at his beard. "Melpomene-dono called me in this morning."
Aoshi was intrigued, but he didn't care to know. But Misao was.
"And?"
Okina was puffing out his chest. "Someone wanted to do a scene done in my perspective." He was practically grinning to himself.
Misao's eyes rounded. "Mou, someone got that desperate?" She propped her chin on two fists.
He cleared his throat, ignoring the gibe. "If you must know," Okina proclaimed with an air, "that someone happened to write a very challenging scene starring yours truly."
For his part, Aoshi had lost interest in the discussion and found the bottom contents of his teacup much more fascinating.
She was squirming in her seat. "Oooh, don't keep us in suspense!" Misao urged. "Spill already!"
With a captive audience--not counting Aoshi--Okina announced proudly, "I, Kashiwazaki Nenji, will have a VERY hot romantic scene with Cologne from Ranma."
With Shampoo's great-grandmother?! It was either that or the words "romantic scene" that triggered a malfunction in his swallowing mechanism. Aoshi had to physically restrain himself to stop the tea from spurting out of his nostrils. Which was difficult to do at the moment. Luckily, he had a paper napkin nearby to cover any disgraceful traces.
"What?!" he managed to blurt out in between coughing fits.
"Eeeeeeew! Jiya!!" Misao grimaced at him as she moved to Aoshi's side. "Not while we're eating!" She began pounding on Aoshi's back.
Now Aoshi was very interested. "What's the writer's name? Where does she live?" he all but demanded.
Okina held out a placating hand. "Now, now, Aoshi. You know the rules. You can't turn against writers, our fellow muses or the Seven Muses."
Damn. Did he have to remind him of that little fact? Still seething, Aoshi managed to ask, "How long has this story been going on?"
"Well, you know how it goes with these writers." Okina shrugged. "This has been an on and off project for some time now, this Ranma series crossover. The writing went smoothly at the beginning until Shampoo herself intervened. The story needed to move along, so I thought I give it a little push."
He couldn't believe his ears. "You gave her the idea?" Aoshi barely noticed his fingers held the cup in a death grip.
Poor Okina seemed to be oblivious of his glowering former wards. "And why not? It's not like the girl doesn't know what goes on behind closed doors."
Aoshi had started counting to ten slowly after Okina's announcement. He was already on his fifth try, but it did not improve his mounting temper.
Aoshi glanced at the flustered girl before turning on Okina. "And how much did you... expose?"
"What makes you think I do things halfway?" the elder Oniwaban laughed. "I think we've tried all the possible--"
"Waaaah! Enough already!" Misao was frantically flapping her hands, and then went to cover her ears. "A man who's practically my grandfather having--having... aaaaagh!"
Okina and Aoshi watched as Misao stand up and leave, hands still on her ears, babbling and making unintelligible sounds on her way out. Both stared after her.
"I'm sure you're quite happy with yourself." Aoshi made sure Okina won't miss the sarcasm.
"Why shouldn't I be?" Okina went on as he picked up his rice bowl. "It's my first own story vehicle. And you youngsters aren't even in it." He moved to pick at a dish of tofu. His hashi was intercepted by another.
"What's wrong?" Okina queried, an infuriating smile on his face. "Upset you're not in it?"
"Didn't you consider the consequences?" Aoshi gazed hard. "Where is your dignity?"
Okina scowled at the younger man and his meddling chopsticks. He shook against it, but the wooden grip didn't move.
He finally gave up the struggle and released the tofu with a sigh. "What are you so worried about, Aoshi? Everything was done tastefully." He shot a disdainful look at hearing a snort. "All right. It hardly... tickled the fancy. Besides, what do these young people really know about the art of lovemaking?"
"How old were you supposed to be in this story?"
Okina paused in thought. "I'm not quite sure, but I believe it to be in our younger years. Feh. She even described my well-toned physique as unrivalled compared to yours!" He flexed his arms to prove his point.
Aoshi rolled his eyes then glanced at the open shoji panel. "You should have mentioned that earlier," he reproved. "It would have saved Misao from the shock of hearing you still sexually active at... your age." Even his stomach couldn't bear the mere thought.
For his part, Okina made a show of picking up his cup and toasting his sake at him.
"And spoil my fun?"
Terms:
hashi-- chopsticks
Mou-- "Oh", or an exclamation similar to it.
shoji-- paper sliding door in Japanese houses.
'Nit'-ing notes: Although "Oni", "wa", and "banshu" have Japanese equivalents, they sure don't pertain to this group. If you make a thorough search on google, there's this ONE historical site (NOT RK) that does mention "Oniwaban". And it roughly defines the Oniwabanshu as "garden guards" ("niwa" + "ban"). And from all indication, they ain't no gang, either. They just beat you up more gracefully and discreetly. ^_^
So yes, I try to research as much as I can or fall prey to Okashira-san's wrath. It's a tedious job, but a story doesn't sit right if there isn't some effort of realism in it.
I know Aoshi sounds too harsh on the poor writers. That, and I'm just as twisted in my sense of humor. But think about it; he might even do worse. And the Seven Muses had the foresight of magically making his swords disappear whenever he has the urge to use it. Heheh, tough luck, ne, Aoshi?
And if anybody's wondering when I'll update Mending: A Prelude... ask me that in another 3 weeks or so.