Author's notes: Well, here we are with the third part of this
prologue (originally part of the SECOND part of this prologue, aborted
early due to my trip to China. I lived for 2 months in the city of Tai
Yuan, 250 km from Beijing before returning home because they refused to pay
me. Bitter? Yes, but not enough not to go back. I spend a couple of
months at home, now I'm back working for yet another school. Wish me luck.
DISCLAIMER-I do not and have never owned any of the characters from Rumiko Takahashi's Ranma ½.
Cry For the Children-Prologue Part 3
In which a rescue takes place and two families forge an alliance as result, and a young man learns to his horror that being a 'superhero' is nothing like it is on T.V.
Japan, Tokyo, Nerima Ward, February 1994
They gathered in the darkness, three men with only one purpose, becoming rich beyond their wildest dreams. The first man was short and squat with thick fingers and a paunch from far too much junk food. He giggled to himself sometimes, mostly when he was talking or thinking about doing something cruel. The second man was tall and thin with a perpetual smirk on his face. Women called him handsome. He called them by other names best not repeated, both before and after he killed them. The third man was almost completely ordinary. He was neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor short. You could pass him on a deserted street without knowing him even if you'd seen him on the news not an hour ago. The one thing that made him stand out was his smile. It had no warmth, no kindness. It was a smile that promised death, and he only smiled when he killed. All three wore black and talked quietly while they stood.
"He's late." The speaker was the first man who spat on the ground as he said this.
"Hell with 'im", said the second man. "I've got things to do. I'm not gonna stand 'round here 'n wait for some guy who may or may not hire us."
"Shut up, both of you." The third man's icy glare swept over the other two, though it was the tone of his soft voice that truly silenced them. "Our...prospective employer is wealthy enough to make us all rich men, and powerful enough to kill us all if we're stupid enough to piss him off."
The short man wilted under the third man's glare, but the second man spoke again. "Since when to we take jobs from people like him anyways? 'Lord High and Mighty' we always used to call him. Mr. Fancy-pants Kuno himself. Why're we gonna work for him now?"
The third man smiled. "Because I think I know what he wants, and let's just say it will be an enjoyable experience for all of us."
As if on cue, the headlights of a car temporarily blinded the three, a great black limo with tinted windows that crept around a corner like a panther on the prowl. The car stopped twenty feet off and as if by magic one of the side doors opened. The three men, one confidently and two grudgingly, walked to the open door and slipped inside.
The interior of the limo was leather-covered and warm, soft music played and the three men found a bottle of sake sitting out for them. Sitting across from the three was a man in a traditional men's kimono, his dark hair done back in a small topknot. His kimono was of the finest silk, and he had a dignified, noble bearing as he looked at the three appraisingly, as though judging their worth with a glance. "Please, sit. The sake is of fine quality and has been kept at the perfect temperature. I have a proposition for you, gentlemen, and I think you will suit my needs nicely."
The short man looked at the sake suspiciously but soon desire overrode reason and he took a swig, belching and wiping his mouth afterwards. "Good stuff." This said, he passed the bottle on to the tall man. "Alright Lo- Mr. Kuno, what do you want?"
If the rich man noticed the slip or took offence, he made no sign. "I will get to the point, gentlemen. My wife has become a millstone around my neck, as have my children. I want them dead, all of them, as soon as possible. I am willing to pay you quite handsomely for this, and of course for the three of you this sort of work can be very enjoyable."
The three shared a grin and the tall man spoke up, a hopeful note in his voice. "How do you want the job done?"
The elegantly dressed man smiled darkly. "Enjoy yourselves...just make it look like the poor souls were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will pay you well, five hundred million yen each, half now and half paid by my lawyers when the job is done. I plan to be far, far away when this happens. I hear Hawaii is quite nice this time of year."
The three men chuckled and soon the other man joined in. Outside, the shadows grew darker still.
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The noble samurai strode fearlessly through the castle of the evil oni, his katana drawn and ready. His dark hair was swept back and the torchlight glinted off his armor as he searched relentlessly for his foe. "Come out fiend! Return the princess, my sister, or face my wrath!"
Evil laughter answered him as he was met by a terrible stench that could only mean one thing; the oni was nearby! "Where are you?"
The oni stepped out from behind a pillar, blocking his path. It was nearly nine feet tall and its blue skin was tough as boiled leather. Its eyes were twin pits in which dwelt unspeakable evil; its horns were like swords and fire belched from its mouth. "Foolish samurai! You wish to rescue the princess, do you? I'll grind your bones to powder and eat you for dinner."
The samurai did not flinch. "Foul demon! Release my sister from thy clutches or I shall destroy thee!"
The monster cowered in fear. "Oh no! Please Oh Noble Samurai. Now that I see that you are indeed mighty, I cannot bear to fight you. Oh spare me!"
The samurai lowered his sword. "You're not supposed to say that!"
"What am I supposed to do then?"
The samurai was about to answer when he heard a girl's voice complaining loudly. "This is boring."
The samurai groaned. "Sister, you're supposed to wait for me to rescue you."
"Why? I can fight too." The dark haired girl stuck out her lower lip in a pout. She stood against the wall, arms crossed. "Why can't I rescue you for a change?"
"Because girls are supposed to get rescued."
"Why?"
"They just are!" Tatewaki Kuno, age 10, the White Tornado of Furinken Elementary School, threw down his bokken with disgust and glared at Sasuke Saragakure, the family servant, and his sister, Kodachi.
Kodachi glared at her brother and, folding her arms across her chest, raised her nose in the air arrogantly. "I think you're just jealous that I'm better at my gymnastics than you are at your kendo."
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
Sasuke winced. Why did they have to fight like this? Sometimes being the family retainer was such a difficult job. He moved to separate them. "Children, children. Please, this is no time to fight."
He stopped immediately as he was met by two angry glares. Tatewaki and Kodachi spoke in unison. "WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON, ANYWAY?"
Sasuke shrank back and beat a hasty retreat.
It was a typical evening in the Kuno household. The children argued in the living room while the mistress sat by the fire in the den. The household was comfortable and warm, but Sasuke still felt it was missing something. The master of course, he was almost never home anymore.
The diminutive ninja reached the den where the mistress lay comfortably on a couch in front of a roaring fire, a book in her hands. She glanced up as Sasuke approached, putting down her book. "Yes?"
"The young master and mistress are fighting again. What should I do?"
The woman sighed and sat up. "Can't they behave for one night? Whatever should I do with them Sasuke? Sometimes I think they'll drive me insane!" She smiled then, "But I wouldn't have my darlings any other way."
She rose and Sasuke followed her back to the living room, jogging to keep up with her long strides. She arrived to see the two children rolling around on the floor, biting and kicking. "Children! Stop this instant. Tatewaki, a samurai only fights when he needs to. Kodachi, a lady should be better behaved."
Sasuke watched as the children stopped immediately, shaking his head in wonder. The children adored their mother. They barely recognized him as an authority figure, though he loved them dearly, but the mistress could bring them out of even the worst moods with a few words and a kind smile. It did his heart good to see them together. Now, if only the master would be so dutiful...
***********************************************************************
Outside the building, the three men watched. Tonight was the night they had agreed upon with their new employer. The tall man trembled with excitement as he fondled the hilt of his knife. The others had similar looks on their faces. Tonight was going to be a great deal of fun.
With the shadows as their shield and murder-and worse than murder-on their minds, the men walked towards the front door, their hands gripping the hilt of their knives. Guns were for killers, and these men did not think of themselves as killers. They were artists.
*********************************************************************** The sound of the doorbell ringing came as a surprise to Sasuke. Who could possibly be coming to call at this time of night? The children had just been put to bed, and he and the mistress had settled down to discuss the events of the evening. The ninja found himself doing this more and more and, to his surprise, found that he enjoyed it immensely. The mistress was pleasant company, a lady of quality and manners, and she cared so deeply for her family, even her absent husband, that he had gained great admiration for her strength of character. He nodded to the mistress and excused himself to answer the door, but he had a nagging sense that something was wrong as he walked down the hall.
The great oak front door to the Kuno manor stood before him at last, and Sasuke stepped forward to do his duty, but hesitated with his hand on the door handle. Never before, he reminded himself, had his danger sense failed to give him a whispered warning. Now, it was screaming. Readying himself for danger, he opened the door-and jumped back, just in time, as a short, knife-wielding man darted through the open door with surprising speed. The man's first attack met nothing but air, but still he pressed forward, his two companions coming up behind him. The lights of the house glinted off their drawn knives.
Sasuke was by no means a great warrior. In truth, he had been long considered something of a failure among the Saragakure clan. At family reunions he was often the butt of jokes played by more successful relatives. At the same time however, Sasuke was still a ninja, and more importantly, he loved his mistress and the children dearly.
In an instant, a shuriken was in his hands and he threw it at the short man, flipping backwards, landing on his hands, and springing back to his feet. He knew there was no room for mistakes now; this was what he was trained for. He must not fail. "Mistress! Take the children and run! Let me deal with them."
Lady Kuno had stepped back, her face a mask of horror as the man burst through the door and stood frozen for a moment, but her loyal retainer's words snapped her out of the shock and she nodded. "Yes, of course." For a moment, she almost hesitated, almost told him to stay alive, but she heard the tone in his voice and saw the two men behind the first and knew that there was no hope for him. Silently swearing not to let the noble ninja's sacrifice be in vain, she turned and fled.
The children looked up as their mother ran in. "Mother?" Tatewaki looked up curiously. "What's wrong? Where's Sasuke?"
Kodachi joined her brother in asking questions but when their mother motioned for silence, the children quickly obeyed. "Children, come with me quickly. Put on your jackets...hurry now, don't dawdle, there's no time! We're leaving."
The children nearly protested, but the look on their mother's face stopped them. She ushered them out the back door while they were still putting their jackets on and they fled into the night.
***********************************************************************
The short man was surprised when the seemingly harmless servant produced the deadly throwing blade seemingly from nowhere and threw it. In his surprise, he hesitated, and that proved fatal. The shuriken caught him in the throat and down he went with a gurgling cry that was soon cut off. His two companions looked shocked, but only for an instant. Together, they pressed forward.
"So the little rat has teeth." The large man taunted Sasuke as he lunged viciously, causing the shorter man to dive aside, where he had to twist away just in time to avoid a cut from the third man's blade. "No matter, I never liked him much anyway; more money for us."
The third man said nothing. His expression had not changed since the fight began, only a grim light in his eyes suggested to the well informed that he was enjoying himself...and anticipating more fun to come.
Sasuke threw another shuriken, but that one missed, flying by the tall man's head as he ducked aside and striking the wall near the door. He weaved and dodged, waiting for another opening. He didn't get the chance.
The ninja's foot caught on the hall rug as he stepped back. He slipped, only slightly, but enough. The tall man lunged and the blade of the knife caught Sasuke in the side. He cried out in pain and staggered backwards, lowering a hand to the bloody wound. The tall man moved forward, a grin on his face, but he turned to his friend. "Oi, Jet, you wanna finish this guy? I'll go after the witch and her brats."
The man known as Jet simply nodded. The tall man hurried past the stumbling ninja after the fleeing woman and children while Jet stepped forward slowly, the corners of his mouth turning upward only slightly.
Sasuke's eyes widened as the man moved slowly towards him. With what strength he had left, he slipped a hand into the concealed sheath at his side and drew a knife, the blade dripping with a paralytic poison, throwing it in a smooth motion.
Jet ducked aside, barely in time to stop the dagger from finding a home in his chest, but it left a small scratch on one cheek. Sasuke smirked. He had succeeded in that much at least, but his smirk changed to a gasp of surprise as the dark man simply chuckled. "A fine venom. Against a normal man, it would be quite effective. Pity I'm no normal man. What is your name, little one?"
"I don't give my name to cold-blooded killers, you monster!" The ninja defiantly spat at the killer's feet. His spittle was red.
Jet laughed. "Such heroism..." He stepped closer, and in the light of the hallway, his eyes seemed to change and the ninja let out a strangled cry. "...And such a perfect choice of words."
"Y-you're not-"
"Human? Don't be silly."
"W-what-"
"That would be telling."
The ninja cried out and tried to turn to flee, but the killer was on him in an instant. The last things Sasuke Saragakure, loyal retainer to house Kuno, ever saw were Jet's terrible, inhuman smile...and two eyes that he found himself unable to look away from.
They were the eyes of a snake.
***********************************************************************
The Kunos ran.
It was wintertime in Nerima and it was very cold. There was little snow on the ground however, and most residents had been saying in recent days that spring could not be far off. The streets were well lit; the three fugitives could easily see where they were going. This area of town was, sadly, mostly deserted at this time of night. This portion of Nerima, near the edge of the district, was a quiet neighborhood and the residents rarely ventured out late at night. There was also very little traffic. It appeared to the Kunos that they were entirely on their own.
Tatewaki and Kodachi, though they did not know exactly what was going on, understood quickly enough that something was terribly wrong. Childhood games forgotten, they fled down the darkened streets, their mother ushering them ahead of her, urging them onward. The two children, obedient to their mother's wishes, ran as fast as their short legs could carry them.
Misato Kuno ran as quickly as she could. The chill air barely bothered her, despite her lack of a jacket. All she could think of were her children, and what those men would do to them if they couldn't get away. Her heart pounded in her chest and her long, black hair seemed to float behind her. Then, she made a mistake. She looked back.
The tall man was close. Too close; and he was catching up quickly. She resisted the urge to scream and urged the children to run faster.
It was not enough.
He continued to catch up. He seemed unbelievably fast. Misato called silently on any kami who might be listening to save her children, and tried to fight back the rising panic that threatened to claim her. Losing her head now, figuratively as well as literally, would do the children no good. She hoped against hope that help was somewhere nearby.
***********************************************************************
"Daddy, I'm tired."
Akira Kuonji smiled back at his daughter from his place at the head of his family yattai. He was a tall man in his mid-thirties with a bushy beard but kind eyes. In a temper he could be vicious but he was slow to anger, fortunately for many customers who'd tried to cheat him over the years.
The life of a traveling okonomiyaki salesman was a difficult one, and his was a dying art form, slowly being pushed to the sidelines by cheap fast food and ritzy restaurants both. After more than fifteen years of wandering, Akira had finally decided to settle down. He'd scrimped and saved for years upon years, his daughter his only indulgence. With what he had inherited from his father upon the old man's death a month ago, he finally had enough to open a small restaurant of his own. It wasn't that he minded the road. He enjoyed the freedom in fact, but his daughter...the road was no place for a small child.
"We'll find a hotel soon Ukyo. Once we're into Nerima proper there'll be lots of hotels, you'll see. We'll find a nice one to say at."
"With a swimming pool?"
Akira chuckled. "Yes, with a swimming pool."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Satisfied, Ukyo was silent for a time. The two moved on in silence, enjoying one another's company until a flicker of movement caught Akira's eye. 'That's odd. Who else would be out here at this time of night?'
Ahead of him, two short figures had turned a corner and were headed his way. They were followed by a woman...their mother, she had to be. The resemblance was plain to see now that they were closer. A family out for a jog? No, Akira discarded that idea the moment it occurred to him. There was an urgency to their movements, a terror that made him grip the handle of his massive spatula, the weapon of his family for generations. "Ukyo? Stay with the cart. Daddy has something to do."
"What is it?"
"Just stay here Ukyo!" He did not mean to snap, but he was afraid and sounded harsher than he'd intended. It worked though; Ukyo was immediately quiet. Akira stepped away from the cart just as a tall, knife- wielding man rounded the corner. His suspicions confirmed, Akira pulled the massive spatula from his back and called to the woman and her children. "Get behind me!"
Misato saw the odd man as she rounded the corner and felt relief flood through her at his words. A knight in shining armor he might not be, but he was there to help and she was certainly in no position to refuse. Urging the children to move faster, she found herself nearly dragging them past the man with the odd spatula. 'How on Earth is he going to fight with THAT thing?'
Her question was answered almost instantly when the knife-wielding man set eyes on the spatula and burst out laughing. The man with the spatula quickly, efficiently, gracefully even, smacked the would-be killer over the head with the spatula while he was doubled over with laughter. The other man hit the pavement with a thump. He did not move, only shallow breathing acted as evidence that he still lived. Impressed despite herself, Misato stepped forward. "T-thank you sir." She took a moment to get her breath back and regain her composure. "If you hadn't been here, we would be dead by now. Thank you so much, Mr....?"
"Kuonji. Akira Kuonji."
"I just don't know what to say Mr. Kuonji-"
"Akira, please."
"Akira then. No one's ever saved my life before." Indeed, Misato felt at something of a loss. All her life she'd been raised with proper protocol, but now she found herself in a situation for which there WAS no protocol. Kicking herself inwardly for her own reliance on a pre-written script like an actor playing a part, she said what she felt best. "If there's any way I can reward you...?"
"That's not necessary Miss, though I do wonder what this one-,"here he kicked the fallen assassin lightly, "-was doing chasing you and your children."
Again, Misato felt foolish. She'd been so busy running that she hadn't even wondered why such a man might be after her. Understandable perhaps, given that she had been fleeing for her life, but she felt foolish all the same. "I don't know. He came to our house with two others. They attacked us, and Sasuke, a friend, gave us time to escape." Calling Sasuke a servant when he had just given his life for her and the children did not seem right somehow. "He's-"
Here she broke down in tears and Akira awkwardly put an arm around her. "I understand. I'm sorry about your friend. Maybe he managed to escape." Somehow, he secretly doubted this, but what else could he say?
"Of course, you're right." Misato glanced down at the unconscious murderer. "What do we do with him?"
"Did he say anything to you that might suggest what he wanted? Anything at all?"
Misato cast her mind back to the events of the evening but could only shake her head. "No, nothing."
"Then we wake him up and ask him nicely."
"And if he doesn't answer?"
"We stop asking nicely."
Part of Misato was appalled at what this man was suggesting. Could she knowingly permit the torture of a man for information? She looked at her children, huddled against her in fear. She thought of Sasuke, brave, loyal Sasuke. Could she? Hell yes. Maybe this was a random robbery. Maybe it wasn't. She couldn't take the chance that if someone had sent these men to kill her and the children, the same person might try again.
Akira bent down over the fallen man and slapped him awake none-too- gently. The tall killer's eyes flickered open and he glared at Akira with a hate-filled expression. "Whadda ya want, ya great-AIIEEE"
Akira released his hold on the man's fingers that he had been bending back into a painful and anatomically difficult position. "Aiieee? No, I don't think I'm that. Now, if you want to KEEP all these fingers of yours, you'll tell me who hired you."
"No one-." Akira calmly a smaller spatula from his belt and placed it against the man's little finger. A thin line of red appeared where the seemingly harmless implement pressed against flesh. "-Alright, alright! It was Mr. Kuno, this lady's husband!"
A terrible numbness spread over Misato as she heard this. The children, silent for so long, began to cry. Akira simply nodded and laid the man out cold once again with a solid punch to the jaw. "Your husband? Bastard. Any idea where he is now?"
"No. He was supposed to be home tonight I think. Maybe he had a late meeting. I don't know."
Akira nodded. "Kuno...Kuno...I've heard that name before."
"Do you ever read the financial pages?"
"Only recently-say, that's it! He's some multi-millionaire industrialist, right?" Akira paused, understanding creeping over him. "Wait a minute, does that mean that you're-"
"Yes."
"Is it too late to take you up on that offer of a reward?"
Misato felt a genuine chuckle escape her, part-hysterical, part- genuine. It felt good. "Perhaps."
As the excitement had ended for the time being, Tatewaki looked with interest at their rescuer before turning his attention to Ukyo, who had stepped off the cart and was currently walking towards him and his sister. "Who are you?"
"Ukyo."
"Is that your father?" He nodded toward towards Akira. Ukyo nodded in response.
Kodachi turned to Akira and bowed. "Thank you sir."
Akira smiled softly. "In all seriousness, I'm just glad I was nearby. Are any of you injured?"
The three shook their heads and Akira nodded. "What should we do now then?"
After a moment's hesitation, Misato spoke up. "If it's alright, I don't feel safe returning home right now. Might we impose upon you for a place to stay?"
Akira, having expected something along these lines, motioned for them to follow. "Would you know a good hotel by any chance? We're new in town ourselves as you can probably tell."
"There are none nearby. The nearest one is perhaps half an hour's walk away."
Akira nodded. "Alright then; the children can ride on the cart with my daughter Ukyo if you would care to walk with me."
Tatewaki looked at Ukyo as he climbed up beside her, blinked, and said, "You're a girl?"
"Of course!"
"You look like a boy!"
"Take that back!"
The two continued to argue as Kodachi was gently lifted up by her mother to sit beside Tatewaki, and the yattai began to roll down the street, Akira pulling the cart and Misato walking beside him. The two shared a smile at their children's behavior and after a moment, Akira spoke quietly. "Your son...wouldn't happen to have a fiancé by any chance, would he?"
***********************************************************************
Tatewaki soon tired of arguing with Ukyo and simply watched the street pass by. Somewhere in his innocent mind, he understood that Sasuke was gone, but curiosity and fascination with the current adventure pushed such thoughts to the side...for the moment.
It was then that, from the bushes nearby, Tatewaki caught a glimpse of a man watching them. He was of average height and build and was dressed like the man that had chased them earlier. The man was watching him, a neutral expression on his face.
In the days to come, when Tatewaki was to learn of Sasuke's death, he would think back to that man and swear that he would one day find him and avenge the loyal ninja...but at the same time, would in his dreams be constantly plagued by the man's cold, heartless gaze and wonder why the assassin had not attacked when the two adults were clearly unaware of the danger.
***********************************************************************
Canada, Vancouver, downtown area, March, 1994
He felt like he was dying.
Oh, he knew he wasn't intellectually. He wasn't even hurt...unlike the two men he'd left several blocks behind.
Tiren Jameson, fourteen-year-old would-be superhero and ex-gofer, sat in the darkened alleyway, alone and terrified. His blonde hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His hands shook and his blue eyes darted back and forth for signs of pursuit as he tried vainly to fight back tears.
'It wasn't supposed to be this way...I was supposed to be a hero! I just don't understand!'
A car went by with a roar and he nearly jumped, glancing around in fear as though expecting his pursuers to catch up with him at any moment, but when no danger presented itself, he slowly began to relax.
Forcing himself to think about what had happened, he thought back to the events that led him to where he now was.
***********************************************************************
The Ivy Well high school auditorium was full to its maximum capacity for the morning's announcement and, as they were wont to do, the students were chatting with their friends while waiting for things to begin.
"Whatcha think they've got for us this time?"
The speaker was Raymond Black, Ray to his friends. Tall, dark-haired and tanned, he fidgeted with the collar of his school uniform and glanced around with open curiosity.
"Dunno." Tiren shrugged as he grinned at his best friend. "Maybe they're gonna cancel classes for the day." The last had the sound of wishful thinking and Ray snorted in response.
"No chance of that. Probably another plea for more participation in school activities or another trip we aren't going to be eligible to go on."
"Probably."
They silenced quickly as the school principal cleared his throat and called for silence. "Now, I'm sure you're all aware of the upcoming school science faire-"
Groans from the student body answered that question easily enough and it was a few moments before the principal was able to restore order. "None of that now, I'm sure you'll find it a worthwhile endeavor if you put enough work into your projects. Now, as a result, Mr. Stein is going to need some assistance in the science lab for the next little while. While child labor laws prevent us from pushing someone into playing assistant and gofer for a few days, we can sweeten the deal a bit by offering extra credit to anyone who's willing to lend a hand. I'm sure some of you, considering your grades, will be only too pleased to help out."
Ray elbowed Tiren and whispered softly. "Yeah, SOME people." Tiren grimaced. It wasn't his fault he was scientifically inept, and he knew where he went wrong with the chemistry incident now. Honest. And the teacher's hair had all grown back, after all. Such as it was.
"Volunteers can report to the office after school. We're just looking for about half-a-dozen, so it'll be first come, first served."
The assembly broke up soon after and on the way out, Ray turned to Tiren. "Gonna volunteer? I hear you're just THIS close to failing this term."
Tiren shook his head. "No way; I've got much better things to do than hang around some lab with ol' Stone-face, thanks. They'd have to drag me there."
***********************************************************************
Mr. Stein, science teacher at Ivy Well High, glanced up as Tiren entered his office that afternoon and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Jameson? If you're here to beg for mercy on your report card, I'm afraid I only grant 'mercy, as it were, to those I feel merit it, which you do not."
Tiren grimaced slightly but tried to cover it up. He hated his science teacher. Mr. Stein made him nervous. The teacher was in his mid- forties and dressed in a white lab coat over his suit. His glasses seemed to fit him poorly and he was constantly pushing them back up his face. What was left of his hair seemed to be fleeing for its life towards the sides of his head. His pinched face was harsh and unwelcoming and the only humor he understood was the snide, sarcastic variety. "Well, make it quick whatever it is. I'm expecting the assistant I requested any moment."
Tiren tried to keep the annoyance that he felt from his face. "Yes sir, which would be me."
Mr. Stein shook his head. "Mr. Jameson. You know I have no time for foolish jokes. Why are you here?"
"I volunteered."
"I asked specifically for someone competent."
"I know."
"You aren't."
"No one else volunteered."
"This isn't a joke, isn't it?"
"No sir."
"Damn. Well, I suppose I'd best make do then. You're sure no one else volunteered?"
"Positive, sir."
"Very well then. I won't go easy on you, you know, especially since you're the only volunteer. I'll need to rely a great deal on you over the next couple of weeks or so."
"I know."
"Alright. Acquit yourself well and I'll revise both your grade and my opinion of you."
"Will you forgive me for the chemistry incident?"
"Even my mercy has its limits."
"Fair enough."
"Be here tomorrow after school, and by that I mean right after school. No dawdling to play with your friends or whatever it is you youngsters do these days. We'll work from 3:00 until 6:00 every afternoon. Will you need transportation home?"
"That would be nice. Busses don't run often enough near here around that time."
"I'm sure something can be arranged. I'll see you tomorrow then. And Jameson?"
"Yes sir?"
"Don't mess up."
"I won't."
Tiren stepped out of the spartan office and shook his head. 'I swear; if I wasn't going to fail miserably, I wouldn't even consider this. I really hate Stein...'
"They'd have to drag you, huh?"
Tiren jumped and turned to glare at Ray, who leaned against a nearby locker, chuckling at him. "Geez! Don't do that!"
Tiren couldn't keep the glare on his face for long. Soon, he was chuckling as well and shaking his head. "Alright, I confess! I'm planning on looking into 'mad scientist' as a possible career option."
"Yeah, Stein'd be the one to ask about that. Seriously though, I never figured you for the gofer type."
Tiren shrugged and Ray shook his head. "You're failing badly, aren't you? How badly?"
"This is my only chance to pass this year. My parents'll kill me if I screw this up."
"Aw man...why didn't you tell me things were that bad? I'd 've helped."
"I didn't want to bother you."
"Bother me? Look man, how long've we been friends?"
"Eight years?"
"Yeah, that's about it. You wouldn't be bothering me. You should know that by now."
"I guess so. Sorry."
"Hey, you're the one who has to be Stein's slave for awhile. Let that be a lesson to you."
"Point."
"C'mon, if we hurry, we can still catch the bus."
Tiren nodded and walked along with his good friend, chatting all the way, thinking that, Stein aside, life was pretty damn good even if it was occasionally a bit dull.
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Over the next two weeks, Tiren worked hard. He worked harder, in fact, than he'd ever worked in his life. He fetched and carried, cleaned, washed, mopped, swept, and did all sorts of other jobs. Mr. Stein refused to permit any 'mere' janitor to clean his space. Usually, he explained on the first day, he did all such work himself, menial though it might be. Unfortunately with all the students coming in and out asking for help or advice or using lab space for their projects and refusing to clean up properly, he simply didn't have the time.
What surprised him most about his situation was how Stein's attitude changed. Calls of "Jameson, get over here!" and "An adequate job, I suppose" became "Tiren, would you give me a hand with this?" and "Excellent! Keep this up and you'll do well."
Tiren was far from revising his opinion of his teacher, but he had to admit a certain respect for Stein's dedication to his job. It seemed that Stein's work was all he had, and he threw himself into it with all the dedication and determination that few mustered even for their favored hobbies. Tiren had to admit that Stein wasn't so hard to get along with either, once you got past his caustic exterior.
Each day, after class, he arrived promptly at the science lab where Stein would meet him and give him his instructions. Once his work was completed, usually right around six o'clock, Stein would make sure Ms. Matton, the school secretary who lived not far from Tiren, was free to give him a ride home which she kindly agreed to do.
And so the routine continued. His parents accepted things well enough. His father in fact, seemed genuinely pleased that his son was displaying such an interest in the sciences. His mother occasionally shot him a knowing look that suggested she had some understanding of what was going on, but she said nothing of it so he supposed that she approved.
Each day went as the last had, but Tiren was soon to find that nothing lasts forever...and in his search for security, would find that he had lost everything.
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"Tiren!"
Tiren put down the mop he'd been holding and wiped a hand across his brow. "What's up sir?"
Mr. Stein regarded him with a small smile. "Working hard, I see?"
"Yep. Someone spilled juice on the floor. Don't you wish people'd pay attention to the signs that say 'No food or drink in the lab?'"
"As I was the one who put up those signs, yes, I do wish they would be obeyed; though I expect not quite so much as you do at the moment."
"Right. I Forgot about that."
"Anyways, while I'd dearly love to stay and trade quips with you, there is something we need to discuss."
"Oh?"
"Ms. Matton has had an unfortunate accident. Some fool waxed the floor right next to the stairs and forgot to put up a warning sign. She took a nasty fall down the stairs and broke her ankle."
"That's awful! She'll be alright I hope."
"Last I checked, a broken ankle was not fatal, Tiren. This does mean, however, that she isn't available to drive you home this evening."
"True. Is there anyone else? There aren't any busses for hours."
"I would be seriously remiss in my duties if I were to simply leave you. I'll give you a ride, if that's alright with you."
"Sure. No argument here."
"Excellent. Do you mind waiting just a few minutes while I finish a few things off?"
"Nope, it'll give me time to finish this."
Tiren finished his task carefully, making sure to get all the juice off the floor. Once he was finished, he made sure that he hadn't missed anything else in the lab that needed doing. Satisfied that his work was complete for the day, he put away the cleaning equipment. So intent was he on returning home, that he didn't notice the yellow sign that read 'warning; slippery floor' that sat in a corner of the lab's closet.
"Are you ready?"
"Just a moment sir!"
"Make it quick, or I'll be tempted to leave without you."
After a quick trip to his locker to grab his books and homework for the evening, Tiren hurried to the front door of the school and found Mr. Stein waiting impatiently. Without a word, the teacher turned and led Tiren to his car.
The teacher's car was nothing fancy; an old, slightly beaten-up ford that had once been white but now looked closer to gray. It was obvious that it had not been well taken care of, but it seemed to run well enough once it was started up, and Tiren relaxed as they headed in the direction of his home.
Despite the fact that they had been working closely together for the last couple of weeks and had been teacher and student for over a year before that, the two found that they really had nothing to say to one another, and so passed the ride peacefully in silence, at least until they passed by the turn that would have led them to Tiren's home.
"Umm...Mr. Stein?" Tiren was hesitant to correct his teacher, but didn't know what else to do. "We just drove by the turn."
"Don't worry Tiren, it's just a shortcut."
Tiren frowned slightly. He couldn't see any reason why his teacher would lie to him, but he knew this area well enough to know that there wasn't any shortcut he could reach by taking this route. "I really think-"
"Be silent! I know exactly what I'm doing."
Tiren said no more after that, though it became increasingly obvious that they weren't going towards his home. His mind raced and he mentally conjured up all sorts of possible horrible fates but he kicked himself mentally and began, instead, trying to think of a way out of his current predicament. He glanced out the window and, the moment the car entered the right lane, his right hand slowly crept towards the door handle while his left hand moved subtly (or what he hoped was subtly) to undo his seatbelt. He knew that jumping from a moving car would probably hurt, but he also figured it would hurt a lot less than whatever Mr. Stein had planned for him once he reached his destination.
"Don't be foolish. I'm not going to hurt you."
"You're crazy! Let me out of here!"
"There's something I want you to see. Once you've seen it, you can go on your way."
"Forget it! I'm not stupid, that trick's so old your grandfather was probably trying it!"
"I swear I don't mean any harm!"
Tiren'd never seen his teacher so flustered before. Deciding that he'd rather not take his chances, he released the catch on his seatbelt and pulled on the door handle. The door didn't open. It was locked. Tiren fumbled with the door lock, but just as he did, the car came to a stop outside an old building. Tiren had the door open when he heard a clicking sound from his left and, glancing towards it, found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. "You've got to be kidding me!"
"I didn't want to do things this way, but you've forced my hand. Now, I'm not going to hurt you! In fact, I was going to make you an offer that will be to our mutual advantage. Now, I think you've lost the right to choose. Step out of the car. Don't try to run. I don't think you can outrun this. We're going inside."
Something about being faced with imminent death made Tiren's decision easily enough. He stepped slowly out of the car. A quick look told him that there were no nearby alleys or side streets nearby to duck into, nor were there any people visible nearby. 'Best to go along with him for the moment; humoring the dangerously insane up to a point is the best way to deal with them, right?'
Mr. Stein guided him into the old building they had stopped in front of and Tiren was surprised to find a fully functional lab, with far more equipment than he had seen in his life. In truth, the lab reminded him eerily of a mad scientist's lair. Mr. Stein slipped a padlock on the inside of the door once he'd closed it. Tiren glanced around while he did so. "Nice place. Where's the monster?"
"He'll be arriving shortly."
"You're not joking."
"I'm not."
"You're crazy."
"I'm not."
"Right then, now that you've taken me here, what now?"
"Have a seat." Here, the teacher motioned to a chair nearby. "This won't take long."
Reluctantly, still eyeing the gun in his teacher's hand, Tiren sat down in the chair. "Now what?"
"Stay there just a moment...don't try to leave. The door's the one way out and I've got the key."
Stein turned his back and Tiren was, for a moment, tempted to try to get the gun away from him while his back was turned, but truth to tell, he wasn't much of a fighter. It was too much of a chance, he quickly decided, and stayed where he was.
When Stein returned, he held the gun in his left hand. In his right hand, he held a small syringe. "Now, hold still..."
Tiren jerked back. "No way am I letting you come near me with that! I hate shots!"
"Nonsense, this won't hurt a bit."
Tiren scrambled over the chair, but this proved to be a mistake. The chair collapsed backwards when he did so, and he fell to the ground with a thud. He barely had time to cry out before the syringe was in his arm and he heard his teacher's calm voice. "There. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
That was the last thing he heard.
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Consciousness returned slowly. The first thing Tiren became aware of was a hard surface underneath him. This was followed by a slow realization that he could move neither his arms nor legs. Panic rose in him but he forced it down as he realized that it was not due to actual paralysis, but rather metal restraints that held him in place. Hazy shapes began to appear in his vision. He heard a soft voice and soon recognized it as his teacher's. "Ah, waking up, are we? How are you feeling?"
"Like some asshole stuck me with a syringe. How're you?"
"You're upset."
"Brilliant deduction."
"I suppose that's understandable, but when you come to understand the gift I've given you-"
"Gift? You really are crazy!"
"Everything I've done was to benefit us both, my boy!"
"Then why am I tied down here."?
"It's for your own safety. You were thrashing around so much I was afraid you'd hurt yourself, and we couldn't have that."
"Yeah, paragon of kindness that you are. Now, are you going to explain your evil plans like a good mad scientist, or what?"
"Your flippant attitude begins to annoy me. There is nothing evil about my plans whatsoever."
"You mean aside from kidnapping, threats of violence, assault, and who-knows-what unauthorized medical experimentation on a human being?"
"Well...yes, other than those things. It's for a good cause though."
"Do tell."
The scientist stepped over to where Tiren lay. "I'm going to release you now. Please be so good as to not attempt to run away. I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."
Tiren thought for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, why not; I have to admit, I am kinda curious."
Stein unlocked the restraints and allowed Tiren to sit up, rubbing his wrists in an attempt to get the blood flowing again. "Alright, so why did you do this, anyway? And what exactly did you do?"
Stein sat down in a chair nearby and began his story. "I should begin by saying that I'm not a young man anymore, of which I'm sure you are very aware. A few months ago, I woke up one morning, and began to think on where my life has led me, and found myself terribly disappointed with the results."
He leaned forward now. "Do you know what scientific and medical qualifications I hold? Probably not, I don't announce them. Tiren, I hold a P.H.D. in biology, M.A.s in physics and chemistry, and even a B.S. in Earth Sciences. I entered university when I was younger than you are now and spend decades studying there. Everyone said I was a genius, a prodigy! They said I would be the greatest genius since Einstein! And so, I learned everything I could. I wanted to impress people, to be remembered one day as a truly great man. Is that too much to ask for one of my talent? I don't think so. And do you know what? When I finished my studies, no one would hire me! I was overqualified, some said. Others felt threatened by me. I was ignored, cast away, forgotten. I had to get a job teaching high school science by downplaying my credentials. Imagine; a man of my ability, my intellect, teaching high school!"
Tiren grimaced. Much as Stein's words sounded like angry ranting, if it was true.... the man had been done an injustice. "I guess that is kinda unfair."
"Kinda unfair? It's a travesty I tell you! My dreams...my hopes...all destroyed because they feared me. Do you know what I found in my self- refection? That my life was wasted. Totally wasted! Because of this, I decided to try to enjoy myself as best I could, while obviously keeping my job. I began going out nights, coming back drunk often as not. I gambled away much of my salary, and then I borrowed money in an attempt to win that money back. Soon, I'd acquired enormous debts to some very dangerous people. When they came for me one dark night five months ago, I was sure they were going to kill me. I couldn't allow that, even though I had to lower myself to begging on my knees for my life. I had to live! I didn't want to die alone, unmourned, unremembered except as 'that teacher who died'. I couldn't die that way! I waned the world to remember the name of Franklyn Nathaniel Stein!"
He was ranting now, almost in tears, and Tiren, looking upon him, felt pity for this man who had clearly been broken by life. "But they didn't kill you, obviously."
"No. Somehow, I don't know how, they'd heard of me. They knew who I was, what I could do. They made me an offer. I would have a lab, facilities, everything I needed to work. If I did one task for them, not only would my debts be forgiven and forgotten, but also I would be given enough money to pursue whatever work I wished for the rest of my life. Think of it! Everything I want, handed to me for one job."
"I take it I'm it? What exactly DID you do to me?"
Stein chuckled as though he'd just heard an amusing joke. "That's just it! I don't know!"
Tiren felt a chill slide over him. "W-what do you mean you don't know! You did this to me, what did you do?"
"They gave me a serum, of their own development they said. They wished me to research possible effects on a human subject. Oh, I examined it. Do you know what I found?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
"I don't know! Oh, I know what it was in the most general of terms. That was easily enough to deduce even through preliminary tests."
"What was it?"
"Blood. It was blood."
"You gave me someone's BLOOD?"
"It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Whatever it was from, it wasn't human. I experimented on animals first, trying to see what would happen to them. They acquired most unusual abilities."
"What sort of abilities?"
"For example, I administered a small dose to a rabbit. It proceeded to chew its way through its cage-a METAL cage, mind you-with startling efficiency and nearly escaped."
"So you created Super bunny. What happened to it?"
Here Stein looked uncomfortable. "Well...you see...with all the animal subjects, there were complications."
Tiren tried to keep the anger out of his voice. "What sort of complications?"
"They all suffered heart attacks. Fatal heart attacks."
"And yet, you gave this to ME?"
"I assure you, I know where I went wrong-"
"I SURE AS HELL HOPE SO!"
Tiren leapt to his feet, so angry and frightened that he could barely speak. "I don't want to die!"
Stein held up his hands defensively. "You won't, you won't. I assure you. The problem was that animal subjects simply couldn't handle it properly. A human subject should have no problem."
"Did you know?" Tiren's voice was icy.
"Well...I had a very good idea-"
"DID YOU KNOW?"
"No."
Tiren nodded to himself. 'I can't believe I was feeling story for this guy! He deserves whatever he gets.' "Alright, next question. Why me?"
"Truly? At first, it was a matter of convenience. You were there; you were a good probable subject. Over the last two weeks however, I've come to respect you. You have a good work ethic, despite your lack of scientific talent. Your flippant and disrespectful attitude conceals a keen and clever mind. You are honest, forthright, and you do as you're told. These are all good qualities for one in your position. I decided that you were more than convenient. You were worthy."
Tiren nodded grudgingly, forcing himself not to concentrate on the praise he was receiving. "All right then, one last question. These people who hired you; what do they want from me?"
"Does it matter? I have been assured that they will provide you with whatever you want in exchange for your assistance. Money. Power. Anything you want. If it's within their power, it will be yours."
Tiren shook his head. "I'm not buying this. There has to be something they want from me, something big. What is it?"
"I believe they wish you to remove...certain people...who they see as a threat to them. Not terribly heavy work even, if the serum worked as I suspect it did."
Tiren threw back his head and laughed. "You've GOT to be kidding me. You're saying that these people...whoever they are...want me to be their own private assassin? Hell with that. I'm out of here!"
Tiren moved towards the door, but Stein stepped in front of him. "Please, you must reconsider! We can both benefit from this, I with money to fund my research, and you...with whatever you want. Surely you can see the benefits?"
Tiren looked at the man before him. Where he once felt dislike mixed with irritation, and later a grudging respect, he now felt disgust. "At what price? Forget it. I'm no murderer. I don't want to kill anyone. Not for money, not for power. I won't do it! What about my family? Would I have to give up any thought of seeing them again? No way."
"You're being very foolish."
Stein took a step forward angrily, but this time Tiren was not going to back down. The teacher was bigger than he was, and older, but Tiren was too angry to care. The teacher took another step. Tiren gave him a shove.
He didn't push him very hard, not very hard at all. Yet Stein flew backwards with a cry, striking the wall with a loud thumping sound. Amazed, but not about to pause to see if the man was alright, Tiren, his way suddenly clear, ran for the door. It was still locked. Remembering what had just happened, Tiren quickly made his decision. 'No door? Maybe I should try to make one.'
The building was old, the windows boarded up. Tiren reared back and punched the board over the window at full strength. The boards snapped and went flying, leaving a nice hole for Tiren to climb through, while he nursed his splinter-filled hand. 'I think I won't try that again for awhile...'
Deciding not to wait around, Tiren ran as fast as he could down the street, near-blinded by mixed fear and relief. He did not notice until he stopped running that he'd been matching speed with the cars on the road.
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"Damn, this is COOL!"
A few pedestrians turned towards the speaker before hurrying on. Whatever was going on, it was none of their business.
Tiren laughed to himself as he walked down the road. For the first couple of hours since leaving Stein's lab, he'd been afraid, nervous. After thinking about it however...
'I'm like a superhero! Think of all the things I can do, all the adventures I can have, all the people I can help! They'll be telling stories about me in a hundred years like they do of Robin Hood or Hercules! I'll be a real-life hero. Should I make a costume? I guess I already have a secret identity. What would be a cool name to call myself?'
Dreams of excitement and adventure-turned-real swarmed through his mind as he walked. He'd do good with his powers, of course. Maybe he'd move to a larger city. New York would be good. All sorts of crime happened there. Maybe L.A.
'How hard can it be to find a crime being committed when I go looking for one? If I wander around downtown I should be able to find something.'
And so, he walked, seeking adventure, confident in the new abilities that a niggling voice in the back of his mind warned him that he didn't even understand.
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Still filled with exciting thoughts of the adventures he would have and the great deeds he would do, Tiren didn't notice quite how late it had gotten. He simply took a moment away from his daydreams to glance at his watch and noticed that it was nearly midnight. 'I've gotta go home! I'm gonna catch hell as it is...I've gotta come up with a convincing explanation. "I was kidnapped and experimented on by a mad scientist" really won't cut it, even if it is true.'
He quickly decided that, while running at superhuman speeds from downtown to his house would be incredibly cool, it would be counterproductive to his secret identity...such as it was...so he had better find a phone and call home.
And so, he walked down the street, keeping his eye open for a pay phone and his mind busy trying to think of a reasonable-sounding excuse for who he was late. He was so intent on both these things that he nearly didn't notice when he turned a corner to see two knife-wielding men standing in front of a third man who had his back to the wall.
The muggers were rough-looking sorts. They wore torn jeans and dirty, hooded sweatshirts. They wore identical grins at the obvious fear of their prey. Neither of them was looking at Tiren.
The third man was middle-aged. He was neither well dressed nor poorly dressed. Probably just some poor guy who drew a late shift at work on his way to the bus stop or something', Tiren thought. Earlier that day, nothing he could have done would have been effectual against these two men, but now...now he had the power.
He moved quickly up behind the men before they could fully turn around and reached out with both hands. Tiren was tall for his age, and it wasn't hard for him to reach out and grab the collars of their shirts, and pull in opposite directions. Hard.
The men's heads met with a loud crack.
Both slumped to the ground.
The muggers' victim turned and ran, not stopping to see or even thank who had rescued him.
Tiren smirked. This was easy. He would have left the scene right then, but the headlights of a passing car briefly lit the area and Tiren's eyes widened.
His hands were covered in blood.
Bending down, suddenly terrified, Tiren felt around the area the two fallen men.
The ground was sticky around their heads.
Frantic now, Tiren bent down and checked both men for a pulse.
No pulse. No breath.
He stood on shaky legs and took a step back. His voice croaked out a single word. "No..."
He took another step backwards. "Oh God...no."
The enormity of what he had done hit him then and in terror, he turned and ran. 'It wasn't supposed to happen this way...I was supposed to be a hero. Please...God...I didn't mean to kill them.'
He ran until he felt his legs would give out and then he stopped, stumbling into a nearby alley, where he collapsed from exhaustion. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way...I was supposed to be a hero.'
After thinking back to how he'd come to be in this place, he stayed there, silently, for some time.
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The morning sun brought him no warmth when Tiren finally forced himself to rise. He had spent the night in the alley; barely moving from the near- fetal position he had curled himself up into. When sleep had eventually come to him, exhausted as he was, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of white corpses and bloody-red hands.
He left the alley, silently pondering his next course of action. 'I...don't want these powers. I was being so childish, thinking about things I could do that I didn't think about consequences. Maybe...yes, that's it! Stein did this to me, maybe there's a way he can reverse it. Take that gunk outta me or something.' A faint hope, but he clung to it like a lifeline and ran off down the street towards Stein's lab, taking care not to run too fast.
It was a long run, but he was determined. His feet were hurting horribly by the time he reached his destination, but he gritted his teeth as he rounded the last corner...and stopped in surprise at the sight before him.
An ambulance was parked outside the old building. Two police cars were there as well. A large crowd had also gathered and, despite police efforts to keep them away, was talking excitedly. Tiren caught snatches of conversation, as he got closer.
"Terrible, just terrible."
"Isn't it? Poor fellow."
"How'd it happen?"
"Shot, I think."
"That's what I heard too. Any idea who could've done it?"
"An angry student, I heard. Was failing and the teacher wouldn't change his grade."
"Ridiculous! Where'd he get a gun from?"
"The CAN get them you know, even here. Probably some sort of gang connection."
"Children these days! It's unbelievable I tell you. Why when I was young- "
"They probably know which one did it already, not that it'll do this poor guy much good."
"I hope they catch him!"
There were general mutters of agreement from the crowd, more shaking of heads and talk of "bad business" and "children these days". Tiren slowly stepped back around the corner and groaned, running a hand over his face.
Stein was dead. This, Tiren knew, was a bad thing. With Stein dead, the only people alive who now had any idea of what had been done to him, who might be able to reverse it, were Stein's mysterious employers. From the sound of things, they were definitely not the sort of people he wanted to mix with.
Should he turn himself in? That might be a good idea. Surely he could make the courts understand that he didn't...hadn't...
No. It wouldn't work. People already believed that he was guilty, were positive of it. What could he tell them? That he'd been experimented on and turned into a monster? That would just make him look insane. Oh, he could probably give them proof, but what then? They'd probably want to study him, find out exactly where his powers came from. Not to mention the two deaths last night...he WAS guilty of those. No, there was only one thing left to do.
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Sneaking into his home...his parents' home, he reminded himself, wasn't very difficult. He had a key, and his parents were both at work during the day. They'd probably assumed that he would call them the moment he arrived home to let them know he was safe. He wanted to.
He left the phone where it was, untouched.
His first stop was his room. Taking out his battered backpack, he stuffed it as full of clothes as he could. It was made for camping, sturdy, well made, and capable of carrying a fair bit more than it looked like at first glance.
His clothes packed, Tiren opened his dresser drawer, felt around inside, and came out with the glass bottle that contained his private stash of money. A few hundred dollars in all, Tiren had been saving allowance money, birthday present money, and paper-route money from when he had a paper route for several years. When asked why, he had always shrugged and said that maybe one day he'd find something he wanted to buy enough that the money would come in handy. Now, he was thankful he'd saved at all.
The money went into his wallet, which bulged from the bills within. He put it back in his pocket and, lastly, took his guitar, safely inside its protective case from where it sat in the corner of the room. He put his backpack on his pack, slung the guitar case over one shoulder, and walked out the door.
This had been his home for as long as he could remember. Through changes and renovations, the house had always been his home. Now, he was leaving it. For a moment, he stopped, wondering if he should leave a note, but then decided against it. Better for his family that he should simply disappear. Besides...he'd be back one day...wouldn't he?
As he walked on, heading down the endless road that stretched before him, Tiren Jameson found that if he thought about that question, he didn't like the answer he came up with.
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Author's Notes: Wow, I never thought this chapter would be such a long one. It's longer than the first two put together. Oh, I had a general outline, but I added bits here and there to lengthen a few scenes out a bit, trying to give a feel of what the characters actual lives are like.
Now, I've a few things to say on the subject of new characters. THIS IS NOT A SELF-INSERTION FIC just in case anyone was wondering. Neither Cal in the first prologue, or Tiren in this part or the others who will appear in good time, are me. They are my own creations, but they are not ME. Second, none of my characters will be super characters. What about Tiren? Well, when you compare him to Ranma and Ryoga in cannon, he's about on par. In fact, as he has no martial arts training and no ki abilities or special techniques (at least right now, he will, of course, grow stronger as all my characters will over time), he is substantially weaker. It is in no way my intention to create one of those 'new character shows up, beats up the entire cast and solves all their problems because he's perfect' fics. Those are a) cliché, and I'm trying to avoid clichés, and b) in my personal opinion, not very interesting. As I've said before, if you have a problem with new characters and want the same old plotlines and sight gags, this is not the fic for you. I am attempting to be as creative and original as possible, without relying on the standard clichés for romances, villains, everyone becoming the closest of friends, etc. etc.
Now, a note on match-ups. At the moment, there aren't any. I have almost no match-ups planned whatsoever. Oh, there WILL be match-ups, but I'm trying to get away from the standard Ranma/Akane, Shampoo/Mousse, Ukyo/Ryoga, Nabiki/Kuno, Kasumi/Tofu, etc. etc. You may expect to see a wide variety of match-ups; some may even be yaoi or yuri, MAY, as that really isn't my thing. Expect the rating to remain the same. I will never right a lemon scene. Never.
Next, character-bashing. Don't expect any. I like all the Ranma ½ characters, yes, even often-unpopular characters like Genma and Akane. They all have their good points and bad points. I refuse to vilify any of them in an exceptional way. The reverse is also true. Don't expect to see Saint Ranma the Perfect or whatever. A good character is a mix of both good and bad, though quite probably more of one than the other.
Next, OOCness. A sad part of trying to write an original fic, especially an altaverse like this, is that the characters WILL be OOC. I am not against OOCness in and of itself, truthfully. What I AM against is authors deciding 'hey, let's have Ranma just wake up one morning and decide to kill so-and-so because that would be cool'. The cannon Ranma simply wouldn't do that unless some major changes in his life occurred to move him towards that decision. Hence, the purpose of these prologues is to show at least a hint of why the characters develop into the people they become later.
Comments, criticism, questions, suggestions, etc. are welcome. Flames are not.
Next chapter-Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane's life without their father. Young Ryoga Hibiki finds a new master to study under ("Why do I have to take these panties?"). Shinnosuke makes an appearance...or does he? A young samurai, quite different from Tatewaki Kuno, attempts to reunite with his family. An old man (Not Happosai) is made an offer...and given a gift.
(Yes, it WILL be a long one, but I want to get these prologues done, so the next one will be the last. It will also, hopefully, take nowhere near as long to write as this one has.)
DISCLAIMER-I do not and have never owned any of the characters from Rumiko Takahashi's Ranma ½.
Cry For the Children-Prologue Part 3
In which a rescue takes place and two families forge an alliance as result, and a young man learns to his horror that being a 'superhero' is nothing like it is on T.V.
Japan, Tokyo, Nerima Ward, February 1994
They gathered in the darkness, three men with only one purpose, becoming rich beyond their wildest dreams. The first man was short and squat with thick fingers and a paunch from far too much junk food. He giggled to himself sometimes, mostly when he was talking or thinking about doing something cruel. The second man was tall and thin with a perpetual smirk on his face. Women called him handsome. He called them by other names best not repeated, both before and after he killed them. The third man was almost completely ordinary. He was neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor short. You could pass him on a deserted street without knowing him even if you'd seen him on the news not an hour ago. The one thing that made him stand out was his smile. It had no warmth, no kindness. It was a smile that promised death, and he only smiled when he killed. All three wore black and talked quietly while they stood.
"He's late." The speaker was the first man who spat on the ground as he said this.
"Hell with 'im", said the second man. "I've got things to do. I'm not gonna stand 'round here 'n wait for some guy who may or may not hire us."
"Shut up, both of you." The third man's icy glare swept over the other two, though it was the tone of his soft voice that truly silenced them. "Our...prospective employer is wealthy enough to make us all rich men, and powerful enough to kill us all if we're stupid enough to piss him off."
The short man wilted under the third man's glare, but the second man spoke again. "Since when to we take jobs from people like him anyways? 'Lord High and Mighty' we always used to call him. Mr. Fancy-pants Kuno himself. Why're we gonna work for him now?"
The third man smiled. "Because I think I know what he wants, and let's just say it will be an enjoyable experience for all of us."
As if on cue, the headlights of a car temporarily blinded the three, a great black limo with tinted windows that crept around a corner like a panther on the prowl. The car stopped twenty feet off and as if by magic one of the side doors opened. The three men, one confidently and two grudgingly, walked to the open door and slipped inside.
The interior of the limo was leather-covered and warm, soft music played and the three men found a bottle of sake sitting out for them. Sitting across from the three was a man in a traditional men's kimono, his dark hair done back in a small topknot. His kimono was of the finest silk, and he had a dignified, noble bearing as he looked at the three appraisingly, as though judging their worth with a glance. "Please, sit. The sake is of fine quality and has been kept at the perfect temperature. I have a proposition for you, gentlemen, and I think you will suit my needs nicely."
The short man looked at the sake suspiciously but soon desire overrode reason and he took a swig, belching and wiping his mouth afterwards. "Good stuff." This said, he passed the bottle on to the tall man. "Alright Lo- Mr. Kuno, what do you want?"
If the rich man noticed the slip or took offence, he made no sign. "I will get to the point, gentlemen. My wife has become a millstone around my neck, as have my children. I want them dead, all of them, as soon as possible. I am willing to pay you quite handsomely for this, and of course for the three of you this sort of work can be very enjoyable."
The three shared a grin and the tall man spoke up, a hopeful note in his voice. "How do you want the job done?"
The elegantly dressed man smiled darkly. "Enjoy yourselves...just make it look like the poor souls were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will pay you well, five hundred million yen each, half now and half paid by my lawyers when the job is done. I plan to be far, far away when this happens. I hear Hawaii is quite nice this time of year."
The three men chuckled and soon the other man joined in. Outside, the shadows grew darker still.
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The noble samurai strode fearlessly through the castle of the evil oni, his katana drawn and ready. His dark hair was swept back and the torchlight glinted off his armor as he searched relentlessly for his foe. "Come out fiend! Return the princess, my sister, or face my wrath!"
Evil laughter answered him as he was met by a terrible stench that could only mean one thing; the oni was nearby! "Where are you?"
The oni stepped out from behind a pillar, blocking his path. It was nearly nine feet tall and its blue skin was tough as boiled leather. Its eyes were twin pits in which dwelt unspeakable evil; its horns were like swords and fire belched from its mouth. "Foolish samurai! You wish to rescue the princess, do you? I'll grind your bones to powder and eat you for dinner."
The samurai did not flinch. "Foul demon! Release my sister from thy clutches or I shall destroy thee!"
The monster cowered in fear. "Oh no! Please Oh Noble Samurai. Now that I see that you are indeed mighty, I cannot bear to fight you. Oh spare me!"
The samurai lowered his sword. "You're not supposed to say that!"
"What am I supposed to do then?"
The samurai was about to answer when he heard a girl's voice complaining loudly. "This is boring."
The samurai groaned. "Sister, you're supposed to wait for me to rescue you."
"Why? I can fight too." The dark haired girl stuck out her lower lip in a pout. She stood against the wall, arms crossed. "Why can't I rescue you for a change?"
"Because girls are supposed to get rescued."
"Why?"
"They just are!" Tatewaki Kuno, age 10, the White Tornado of Furinken Elementary School, threw down his bokken with disgust and glared at Sasuke Saragakure, the family servant, and his sister, Kodachi.
Kodachi glared at her brother and, folding her arms across her chest, raised her nose in the air arrogantly. "I think you're just jealous that I'm better at my gymnastics than you are at your kendo."
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
Sasuke winced. Why did they have to fight like this? Sometimes being the family retainer was such a difficult job. He moved to separate them. "Children, children. Please, this is no time to fight."
He stopped immediately as he was met by two angry glares. Tatewaki and Kodachi spoke in unison. "WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON, ANYWAY?"
Sasuke shrank back and beat a hasty retreat.
It was a typical evening in the Kuno household. The children argued in the living room while the mistress sat by the fire in the den. The household was comfortable and warm, but Sasuke still felt it was missing something. The master of course, he was almost never home anymore.
The diminutive ninja reached the den where the mistress lay comfortably on a couch in front of a roaring fire, a book in her hands. She glanced up as Sasuke approached, putting down her book. "Yes?"
"The young master and mistress are fighting again. What should I do?"
The woman sighed and sat up. "Can't they behave for one night? Whatever should I do with them Sasuke? Sometimes I think they'll drive me insane!" She smiled then, "But I wouldn't have my darlings any other way."
She rose and Sasuke followed her back to the living room, jogging to keep up with her long strides. She arrived to see the two children rolling around on the floor, biting and kicking. "Children! Stop this instant. Tatewaki, a samurai only fights when he needs to. Kodachi, a lady should be better behaved."
Sasuke watched as the children stopped immediately, shaking his head in wonder. The children adored their mother. They barely recognized him as an authority figure, though he loved them dearly, but the mistress could bring them out of even the worst moods with a few words and a kind smile. It did his heart good to see them together. Now, if only the master would be so dutiful...
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Outside the building, the three men watched. Tonight was the night they had agreed upon with their new employer. The tall man trembled with excitement as he fondled the hilt of his knife. The others had similar looks on their faces. Tonight was going to be a great deal of fun.
With the shadows as their shield and murder-and worse than murder-on their minds, the men walked towards the front door, their hands gripping the hilt of their knives. Guns were for killers, and these men did not think of themselves as killers. They were artists.
*********************************************************************** The sound of the doorbell ringing came as a surprise to Sasuke. Who could possibly be coming to call at this time of night? The children had just been put to bed, and he and the mistress had settled down to discuss the events of the evening. The ninja found himself doing this more and more and, to his surprise, found that he enjoyed it immensely. The mistress was pleasant company, a lady of quality and manners, and she cared so deeply for her family, even her absent husband, that he had gained great admiration for her strength of character. He nodded to the mistress and excused himself to answer the door, but he had a nagging sense that something was wrong as he walked down the hall.
The great oak front door to the Kuno manor stood before him at last, and Sasuke stepped forward to do his duty, but hesitated with his hand on the door handle. Never before, he reminded himself, had his danger sense failed to give him a whispered warning. Now, it was screaming. Readying himself for danger, he opened the door-and jumped back, just in time, as a short, knife-wielding man darted through the open door with surprising speed. The man's first attack met nothing but air, but still he pressed forward, his two companions coming up behind him. The lights of the house glinted off their drawn knives.
Sasuke was by no means a great warrior. In truth, he had been long considered something of a failure among the Saragakure clan. At family reunions he was often the butt of jokes played by more successful relatives. At the same time however, Sasuke was still a ninja, and more importantly, he loved his mistress and the children dearly.
In an instant, a shuriken was in his hands and he threw it at the short man, flipping backwards, landing on his hands, and springing back to his feet. He knew there was no room for mistakes now; this was what he was trained for. He must not fail. "Mistress! Take the children and run! Let me deal with them."
Lady Kuno had stepped back, her face a mask of horror as the man burst through the door and stood frozen for a moment, but her loyal retainer's words snapped her out of the shock and she nodded. "Yes, of course." For a moment, she almost hesitated, almost told him to stay alive, but she heard the tone in his voice and saw the two men behind the first and knew that there was no hope for him. Silently swearing not to let the noble ninja's sacrifice be in vain, she turned and fled.
The children looked up as their mother ran in. "Mother?" Tatewaki looked up curiously. "What's wrong? Where's Sasuke?"
Kodachi joined her brother in asking questions but when their mother motioned for silence, the children quickly obeyed. "Children, come with me quickly. Put on your jackets...hurry now, don't dawdle, there's no time! We're leaving."
The children nearly protested, but the look on their mother's face stopped them. She ushered them out the back door while they were still putting their jackets on and they fled into the night.
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The short man was surprised when the seemingly harmless servant produced the deadly throwing blade seemingly from nowhere and threw it. In his surprise, he hesitated, and that proved fatal. The shuriken caught him in the throat and down he went with a gurgling cry that was soon cut off. His two companions looked shocked, but only for an instant. Together, they pressed forward.
"So the little rat has teeth." The large man taunted Sasuke as he lunged viciously, causing the shorter man to dive aside, where he had to twist away just in time to avoid a cut from the third man's blade. "No matter, I never liked him much anyway; more money for us."
The third man said nothing. His expression had not changed since the fight began, only a grim light in his eyes suggested to the well informed that he was enjoying himself...and anticipating more fun to come.
Sasuke threw another shuriken, but that one missed, flying by the tall man's head as he ducked aside and striking the wall near the door. He weaved and dodged, waiting for another opening. He didn't get the chance.
The ninja's foot caught on the hall rug as he stepped back. He slipped, only slightly, but enough. The tall man lunged and the blade of the knife caught Sasuke in the side. He cried out in pain and staggered backwards, lowering a hand to the bloody wound. The tall man moved forward, a grin on his face, but he turned to his friend. "Oi, Jet, you wanna finish this guy? I'll go after the witch and her brats."
The man known as Jet simply nodded. The tall man hurried past the stumbling ninja after the fleeing woman and children while Jet stepped forward slowly, the corners of his mouth turning upward only slightly.
Sasuke's eyes widened as the man moved slowly towards him. With what strength he had left, he slipped a hand into the concealed sheath at his side and drew a knife, the blade dripping with a paralytic poison, throwing it in a smooth motion.
Jet ducked aside, barely in time to stop the dagger from finding a home in his chest, but it left a small scratch on one cheek. Sasuke smirked. He had succeeded in that much at least, but his smirk changed to a gasp of surprise as the dark man simply chuckled. "A fine venom. Against a normal man, it would be quite effective. Pity I'm no normal man. What is your name, little one?"
"I don't give my name to cold-blooded killers, you monster!" The ninja defiantly spat at the killer's feet. His spittle was red.
Jet laughed. "Such heroism..." He stepped closer, and in the light of the hallway, his eyes seemed to change and the ninja let out a strangled cry. "...And such a perfect choice of words."
"Y-you're not-"
"Human? Don't be silly."
"W-what-"
"That would be telling."
The ninja cried out and tried to turn to flee, but the killer was on him in an instant. The last things Sasuke Saragakure, loyal retainer to house Kuno, ever saw were Jet's terrible, inhuman smile...and two eyes that he found himself unable to look away from.
They were the eyes of a snake.
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The Kunos ran.
It was wintertime in Nerima and it was very cold. There was little snow on the ground however, and most residents had been saying in recent days that spring could not be far off. The streets were well lit; the three fugitives could easily see where they were going. This area of town was, sadly, mostly deserted at this time of night. This portion of Nerima, near the edge of the district, was a quiet neighborhood and the residents rarely ventured out late at night. There was also very little traffic. It appeared to the Kunos that they were entirely on their own.
Tatewaki and Kodachi, though they did not know exactly what was going on, understood quickly enough that something was terribly wrong. Childhood games forgotten, they fled down the darkened streets, their mother ushering them ahead of her, urging them onward. The two children, obedient to their mother's wishes, ran as fast as their short legs could carry them.
Misato Kuno ran as quickly as she could. The chill air barely bothered her, despite her lack of a jacket. All she could think of were her children, and what those men would do to them if they couldn't get away. Her heart pounded in her chest and her long, black hair seemed to float behind her. Then, she made a mistake. She looked back.
The tall man was close. Too close; and he was catching up quickly. She resisted the urge to scream and urged the children to run faster.
It was not enough.
He continued to catch up. He seemed unbelievably fast. Misato called silently on any kami who might be listening to save her children, and tried to fight back the rising panic that threatened to claim her. Losing her head now, figuratively as well as literally, would do the children no good. She hoped against hope that help was somewhere nearby.
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"Daddy, I'm tired."
Akira Kuonji smiled back at his daughter from his place at the head of his family yattai. He was a tall man in his mid-thirties with a bushy beard but kind eyes. In a temper he could be vicious but he was slow to anger, fortunately for many customers who'd tried to cheat him over the years.
The life of a traveling okonomiyaki salesman was a difficult one, and his was a dying art form, slowly being pushed to the sidelines by cheap fast food and ritzy restaurants both. After more than fifteen years of wandering, Akira had finally decided to settle down. He'd scrimped and saved for years upon years, his daughter his only indulgence. With what he had inherited from his father upon the old man's death a month ago, he finally had enough to open a small restaurant of his own. It wasn't that he minded the road. He enjoyed the freedom in fact, but his daughter...the road was no place for a small child.
"We'll find a hotel soon Ukyo. Once we're into Nerima proper there'll be lots of hotels, you'll see. We'll find a nice one to say at."
"With a swimming pool?"
Akira chuckled. "Yes, with a swimming pool."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Satisfied, Ukyo was silent for a time. The two moved on in silence, enjoying one another's company until a flicker of movement caught Akira's eye. 'That's odd. Who else would be out here at this time of night?'
Ahead of him, two short figures had turned a corner and were headed his way. They were followed by a woman...their mother, she had to be. The resemblance was plain to see now that they were closer. A family out for a jog? No, Akira discarded that idea the moment it occurred to him. There was an urgency to their movements, a terror that made him grip the handle of his massive spatula, the weapon of his family for generations. "Ukyo? Stay with the cart. Daddy has something to do."
"What is it?"
"Just stay here Ukyo!" He did not mean to snap, but he was afraid and sounded harsher than he'd intended. It worked though; Ukyo was immediately quiet. Akira stepped away from the cart just as a tall, knife- wielding man rounded the corner. His suspicions confirmed, Akira pulled the massive spatula from his back and called to the woman and her children. "Get behind me!"
Misato saw the odd man as she rounded the corner and felt relief flood through her at his words. A knight in shining armor he might not be, but he was there to help and she was certainly in no position to refuse. Urging the children to move faster, she found herself nearly dragging them past the man with the odd spatula. 'How on Earth is he going to fight with THAT thing?'
Her question was answered almost instantly when the knife-wielding man set eyes on the spatula and burst out laughing. The man with the spatula quickly, efficiently, gracefully even, smacked the would-be killer over the head with the spatula while he was doubled over with laughter. The other man hit the pavement with a thump. He did not move, only shallow breathing acted as evidence that he still lived. Impressed despite herself, Misato stepped forward. "T-thank you sir." She took a moment to get her breath back and regain her composure. "If you hadn't been here, we would be dead by now. Thank you so much, Mr....?"
"Kuonji. Akira Kuonji."
"I just don't know what to say Mr. Kuonji-"
"Akira, please."
"Akira then. No one's ever saved my life before." Indeed, Misato felt at something of a loss. All her life she'd been raised with proper protocol, but now she found herself in a situation for which there WAS no protocol. Kicking herself inwardly for her own reliance on a pre-written script like an actor playing a part, she said what she felt best. "If there's any way I can reward you...?"
"That's not necessary Miss, though I do wonder what this one-,"here he kicked the fallen assassin lightly, "-was doing chasing you and your children."
Again, Misato felt foolish. She'd been so busy running that she hadn't even wondered why such a man might be after her. Understandable perhaps, given that she had been fleeing for her life, but she felt foolish all the same. "I don't know. He came to our house with two others. They attacked us, and Sasuke, a friend, gave us time to escape." Calling Sasuke a servant when he had just given his life for her and the children did not seem right somehow. "He's-"
Here she broke down in tears and Akira awkwardly put an arm around her. "I understand. I'm sorry about your friend. Maybe he managed to escape." Somehow, he secretly doubted this, but what else could he say?
"Of course, you're right." Misato glanced down at the unconscious murderer. "What do we do with him?"
"Did he say anything to you that might suggest what he wanted? Anything at all?"
Misato cast her mind back to the events of the evening but could only shake her head. "No, nothing."
"Then we wake him up and ask him nicely."
"And if he doesn't answer?"
"We stop asking nicely."
Part of Misato was appalled at what this man was suggesting. Could she knowingly permit the torture of a man for information? She looked at her children, huddled against her in fear. She thought of Sasuke, brave, loyal Sasuke. Could she? Hell yes. Maybe this was a random robbery. Maybe it wasn't. She couldn't take the chance that if someone had sent these men to kill her and the children, the same person might try again.
Akira bent down over the fallen man and slapped him awake none-too- gently. The tall killer's eyes flickered open and he glared at Akira with a hate-filled expression. "Whadda ya want, ya great-AIIEEE"
Akira released his hold on the man's fingers that he had been bending back into a painful and anatomically difficult position. "Aiieee? No, I don't think I'm that. Now, if you want to KEEP all these fingers of yours, you'll tell me who hired you."
"No one-." Akira calmly a smaller spatula from his belt and placed it against the man's little finger. A thin line of red appeared where the seemingly harmless implement pressed against flesh. "-Alright, alright! It was Mr. Kuno, this lady's husband!"
A terrible numbness spread over Misato as she heard this. The children, silent for so long, began to cry. Akira simply nodded and laid the man out cold once again with a solid punch to the jaw. "Your husband? Bastard. Any idea where he is now?"
"No. He was supposed to be home tonight I think. Maybe he had a late meeting. I don't know."
Akira nodded. "Kuno...Kuno...I've heard that name before."
"Do you ever read the financial pages?"
"Only recently-say, that's it! He's some multi-millionaire industrialist, right?" Akira paused, understanding creeping over him. "Wait a minute, does that mean that you're-"
"Yes."
"Is it too late to take you up on that offer of a reward?"
Misato felt a genuine chuckle escape her, part-hysterical, part- genuine. It felt good. "Perhaps."
As the excitement had ended for the time being, Tatewaki looked with interest at their rescuer before turning his attention to Ukyo, who had stepped off the cart and was currently walking towards him and his sister. "Who are you?"
"Ukyo."
"Is that your father?" He nodded toward towards Akira. Ukyo nodded in response.
Kodachi turned to Akira and bowed. "Thank you sir."
Akira smiled softly. "In all seriousness, I'm just glad I was nearby. Are any of you injured?"
The three shook their heads and Akira nodded. "What should we do now then?"
After a moment's hesitation, Misato spoke up. "If it's alright, I don't feel safe returning home right now. Might we impose upon you for a place to stay?"
Akira, having expected something along these lines, motioned for them to follow. "Would you know a good hotel by any chance? We're new in town ourselves as you can probably tell."
"There are none nearby. The nearest one is perhaps half an hour's walk away."
Akira nodded. "Alright then; the children can ride on the cart with my daughter Ukyo if you would care to walk with me."
Tatewaki looked at Ukyo as he climbed up beside her, blinked, and said, "You're a girl?"
"Of course!"
"You look like a boy!"
"Take that back!"
The two continued to argue as Kodachi was gently lifted up by her mother to sit beside Tatewaki, and the yattai began to roll down the street, Akira pulling the cart and Misato walking beside him. The two shared a smile at their children's behavior and after a moment, Akira spoke quietly. "Your son...wouldn't happen to have a fiancé by any chance, would he?"
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Tatewaki soon tired of arguing with Ukyo and simply watched the street pass by. Somewhere in his innocent mind, he understood that Sasuke was gone, but curiosity and fascination with the current adventure pushed such thoughts to the side...for the moment.
It was then that, from the bushes nearby, Tatewaki caught a glimpse of a man watching them. He was of average height and build and was dressed like the man that had chased them earlier. The man was watching him, a neutral expression on his face.
In the days to come, when Tatewaki was to learn of Sasuke's death, he would think back to that man and swear that he would one day find him and avenge the loyal ninja...but at the same time, would in his dreams be constantly plagued by the man's cold, heartless gaze and wonder why the assassin had not attacked when the two adults were clearly unaware of the danger.
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Canada, Vancouver, downtown area, March, 1994
He felt like he was dying.
Oh, he knew he wasn't intellectually. He wasn't even hurt...unlike the two men he'd left several blocks behind.
Tiren Jameson, fourteen-year-old would-be superhero and ex-gofer, sat in the darkened alleyway, alone and terrified. His blonde hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His hands shook and his blue eyes darted back and forth for signs of pursuit as he tried vainly to fight back tears.
'It wasn't supposed to be this way...I was supposed to be a hero! I just don't understand!'
A car went by with a roar and he nearly jumped, glancing around in fear as though expecting his pursuers to catch up with him at any moment, but when no danger presented itself, he slowly began to relax.
Forcing himself to think about what had happened, he thought back to the events that led him to where he now was.
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The Ivy Well high school auditorium was full to its maximum capacity for the morning's announcement and, as they were wont to do, the students were chatting with their friends while waiting for things to begin.
"Whatcha think they've got for us this time?"
The speaker was Raymond Black, Ray to his friends. Tall, dark-haired and tanned, he fidgeted with the collar of his school uniform and glanced around with open curiosity.
"Dunno." Tiren shrugged as he grinned at his best friend. "Maybe they're gonna cancel classes for the day." The last had the sound of wishful thinking and Ray snorted in response.
"No chance of that. Probably another plea for more participation in school activities or another trip we aren't going to be eligible to go on."
"Probably."
They silenced quickly as the school principal cleared his throat and called for silence. "Now, I'm sure you're all aware of the upcoming school science faire-"
Groans from the student body answered that question easily enough and it was a few moments before the principal was able to restore order. "None of that now, I'm sure you'll find it a worthwhile endeavor if you put enough work into your projects. Now, as a result, Mr. Stein is going to need some assistance in the science lab for the next little while. While child labor laws prevent us from pushing someone into playing assistant and gofer for a few days, we can sweeten the deal a bit by offering extra credit to anyone who's willing to lend a hand. I'm sure some of you, considering your grades, will be only too pleased to help out."
Ray elbowed Tiren and whispered softly. "Yeah, SOME people." Tiren grimaced. It wasn't his fault he was scientifically inept, and he knew where he went wrong with the chemistry incident now. Honest. And the teacher's hair had all grown back, after all. Such as it was.
"Volunteers can report to the office after school. We're just looking for about half-a-dozen, so it'll be first come, first served."
The assembly broke up soon after and on the way out, Ray turned to Tiren. "Gonna volunteer? I hear you're just THIS close to failing this term."
Tiren shook his head. "No way; I've got much better things to do than hang around some lab with ol' Stone-face, thanks. They'd have to drag me there."
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Mr. Stein, science teacher at Ivy Well High, glanced up as Tiren entered his office that afternoon and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Jameson? If you're here to beg for mercy on your report card, I'm afraid I only grant 'mercy, as it were, to those I feel merit it, which you do not."
Tiren grimaced slightly but tried to cover it up. He hated his science teacher. Mr. Stein made him nervous. The teacher was in his mid- forties and dressed in a white lab coat over his suit. His glasses seemed to fit him poorly and he was constantly pushing them back up his face. What was left of his hair seemed to be fleeing for its life towards the sides of his head. His pinched face was harsh and unwelcoming and the only humor he understood was the snide, sarcastic variety. "Well, make it quick whatever it is. I'm expecting the assistant I requested any moment."
Tiren tried to keep the annoyance that he felt from his face. "Yes sir, which would be me."
Mr. Stein shook his head. "Mr. Jameson. You know I have no time for foolish jokes. Why are you here?"
"I volunteered."
"I asked specifically for someone competent."
"I know."
"You aren't."
"No one else volunteered."
"This isn't a joke, isn't it?"
"No sir."
"Damn. Well, I suppose I'd best make do then. You're sure no one else volunteered?"
"Positive, sir."
"Very well then. I won't go easy on you, you know, especially since you're the only volunteer. I'll need to rely a great deal on you over the next couple of weeks or so."
"I know."
"Alright. Acquit yourself well and I'll revise both your grade and my opinion of you."
"Will you forgive me for the chemistry incident?"
"Even my mercy has its limits."
"Fair enough."
"Be here tomorrow after school, and by that I mean right after school. No dawdling to play with your friends or whatever it is you youngsters do these days. We'll work from 3:00 until 6:00 every afternoon. Will you need transportation home?"
"That would be nice. Busses don't run often enough near here around that time."
"I'm sure something can be arranged. I'll see you tomorrow then. And Jameson?"
"Yes sir?"
"Don't mess up."
"I won't."
Tiren stepped out of the spartan office and shook his head. 'I swear; if I wasn't going to fail miserably, I wouldn't even consider this. I really hate Stein...'
"They'd have to drag you, huh?"
Tiren jumped and turned to glare at Ray, who leaned against a nearby locker, chuckling at him. "Geez! Don't do that!"
Tiren couldn't keep the glare on his face for long. Soon, he was chuckling as well and shaking his head. "Alright, I confess! I'm planning on looking into 'mad scientist' as a possible career option."
"Yeah, Stein'd be the one to ask about that. Seriously though, I never figured you for the gofer type."
Tiren shrugged and Ray shook his head. "You're failing badly, aren't you? How badly?"
"This is my only chance to pass this year. My parents'll kill me if I screw this up."
"Aw man...why didn't you tell me things were that bad? I'd 've helped."
"I didn't want to bother you."
"Bother me? Look man, how long've we been friends?"
"Eight years?"
"Yeah, that's about it. You wouldn't be bothering me. You should know that by now."
"I guess so. Sorry."
"Hey, you're the one who has to be Stein's slave for awhile. Let that be a lesson to you."
"Point."
"C'mon, if we hurry, we can still catch the bus."
Tiren nodded and walked along with his good friend, chatting all the way, thinking that, Stein aside, life was pretty damn good even if it was occasionally a bit dull.
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Over the next two weeks, Tiren worked hard. He worked harder, in fact, than he'd ever worked in his life. He fetched and carried, cleaned, washed, mopped, swept, and did all sorts of other jobs. Mr. Stein refused to permit any 'mere' janitor to clean his space. Usually, he explained on the first day, he did all such work himself, menial though it might be. Unfortunately with all the students coming in and out asking for help or advice or using lab space for their projects and refusing to clean up properly, he simply didn't have the time.
What surprised him most about his situation was how Stein's attitude changed. Calls of "Jameson, get over here!" and "An adequate job, I suppose" became "Tiren, would you give me a hand with this?" and "Excellent! Keep this up and you'll do well."
Tiren was far from revising his opinion of his teacher, but he had to admit a certain respect for Stein's dedication to his job. It seemed that Stein's work was all he had, and he threw himself into it with all the dedication and determination that few mustered even for their favored hobbies. Tiren had to admit that Stein wasn't so hard to get along with either, once you got past his caustic exterior.
Each day, after class, he arrived promptly at the science lab where Stein would meet him and give him his instructions. Once his work was completed, usually right around six o'clock, Stein would make sure Ms. Matton, the school secretary who lived not far from Tiren, was free to give him a ride home which she kindly agreed to do.
And so the routine continued. His parents accepted things well enough. His father in fact, seemed genuinely pleased that his son was displaying such an interest in the sciences. His mother occasionally shot him a knowing look that suggested she had some understanding of what was going on, but she said nothing of it so he supposed that she approved.
Each day went as the last had, but Tiren was soon to find that nothing lasts forever...and in his search for security, would find that he had lost everything.
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"Tiren!"
Tiren put down the mop he'd been holding and wiped a hand across his brow. "What's up sir?"
Mr. Stein regarded him with a small smile. "Working hard, I see?"
"Yep. Someone spilled juice on the floor. Don't you wish people'd pay attention to the signs that say 'No food or drink in the lab?'"
"As I was the one who put up those signs, yes, I do wish they would be obeyed; though I expect not quite so much as you do at the moment."
"Right. I Forgot about that."
"Anyways, while I'd dearly love to stay and trade quips with you, there is something we need to discuss."
"Oh?"
"Ms. Matton has had an unfortunate accident. Some fool waxed the floor right next to the stairs and forgot to put up a warning sign. She took a nasty fall down the stairs and broke her ankle."
"That's awful! She'll be alright I hope."
"Last I checked, a broken ankle was not fatal, Tiren. This does mean, however, that she isn't available to drive you home this evening."
"True. Is there anyone else? There aren't any busses for hours."
"I would be seriously remiss in my duties if I were to simply leave you. I'll give you a ride, if that's alright with you."
"Sure. No argument here."
"Excellent. Do you mind waiting just a few minutes while I finish a few things off?"
"Nope, it'll give me time to finish this."
Tiren finished his task carefully, making sure to get all the juice off the floor. Once he was finished, he made sure that he hadn't missed anything else in the lab that needed doing. Satisfied that his work was complete for the day, he put away the cleaning equipment. So intent was he on returning home, that he didn't notice the yellow sign that read 'warning; slippery floor' that sat in a corner of the lab's closet.
"Are you ready?"
"Just a moment sir!"
"Make it quick, or I'll be tempted to leave without you."
After a quick trip to his locker to grab his books and homework for the evening, Tiren hurried to the front door of the school and found Mr. Stein waiting impatiently. Without a word, the teacher turned and led Tiren to his car.
The teacher's car was nothing fancy; an old, slightly beaten-up ford that had once been white but now looked closer to gray. It was obvious that it had not been well taken care of, but it seemed to run well enough once it was started up, and Tiren relaxed as they headed in the direction of his home.
Despite the fact that they had been working closely together for the last couple of weeks and had been teacher and student for over a year before that, the two found that they really had nothing to say to one another, and so passed the ride peacefully in silence, at least until they passed by the turn that would have led them to Tiren's home.
"Umm...Mr. Stein?" Tiren was hesitant to correct his teacher, but didn't know what else to do. "We just drove by the turn."
"Don't worry Tiren, it's just a shortcut."
Tiren frowned slightly. He couldn't see any reason why his teacher would lie to him, but he knew this area well enough to know that there wasn't any shortcut he could reach by taking this route. "I really think-"
"Be silent! I know exactly what I'm doing."
Tiren said no more after that, though it became increasingly obvious that they weren't going towards his home. His mind raced and he mentally conjured up all sorts of possible horrible fates but he kicked himself mentally and began, instead, trying to think of a way out of his current predicament. He glanced out the window and, the moment the car entered the right lane, his right hand slowly crept towards the door handle while his left hand moved subtly (or what he hoped was subtly) to undo his seatbelt. He knew that jumping from a moving car would probably hurt, but he also figured it would hurt a lot less than whatever Mr. Stein had planned for him once he reached his destination.
"Don't be foolish. I'm not going to hurt you."
"You're crazy! Let me out of here!"
"There's something I want you to see. Once you've seen it, you can go on your way."
"Forget it! I'm not stupid, that trick's so old your grandfather was probably trying it!"
"I swear I don't mean any harm!"
Tiren'd never seen his teacher so flustered before. Deciding that he'd rather not take his chances, he released the catch on his seatbelt and pulled on the door handle. The door didn't open. It was locked. Tiren fumbled with the door lock, but just as he did, the car came to a stop outside an old building. Tiren had the door open when he heard a clicking sound from his left and, glancing towards it, found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. "You've got to be kidding me!"
"I didn't want to do things this way, but you've forced my hand. Now, I'm not going to hurt you! In fact, I was going to make you an offer that will be to our mutual advantage. Now, I think you've lost the right to choose. Step out of the car. Don't try to run. I don't think you can outrun this. We're going inside."
Something about being faced with imminent death made Tiren's decision easily enough. He stepped slowly out of the car. A quick look told him that there were no nearby alleys or side streets nearby to duck into, nor were there any people visible nearby. 'Best to go along with him for the moment; humoring the dangerously insane up to a point is the best way to deal with them, right?'
Mr. Stein guided him into the old building they had stopped in front of and Tiren was surprised to find a fully functional lab, with far more equipment than he had seen in his life. In truth, the lab reminded him eerily of a mad scientist's lair. Mr. Stein slipped a padlock on the inside of the door once he'd closed it. Tiren glanced around while he did so. "Nice place. Where's the monster?"
"He'll be arriving shortly."
"You're not joking."
"I'm not."
"You're crazy."
"I'm not."
"Right then, now that you've taken me here, what now?"
"Have a seat." Here, the teacher motioned to a chair nearby. "This won't take long."
Reluctantly, still eyeing the gun in his teacher's hand, Tiren sat down in the chair. "Now what?"
"Stay there just a moment...don't try to leave. The door's the one way out and I've got the key."
Stein turned his back and Tiren was, for a moment, tempted to try to get the gun away from him while his back was turned, but truth to tell, he wasn't much of a fighter. It was too much of a chance, he quickly decided, and stayed where he was.
When Stein returned, he held the gun in his left hand. In his right hand, he held a small syringe. "Now, hold still..."
Tiren jerked back. "No way am I letting you come near me with that! I hate shots!"
"Nonsense, this won't hurt a bit."
Tiren scrambled over the chair, but this proved to be a mistake. The chair collapsed backwards when he did so, and he fell to the ground with a thud. He barely had time to cry out before the syringe was in his arm and he heard his teacher's calm voice. "There. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
That was the last thing he heard.
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Consciousness returned slowly. The first thing Tiren became aware of was a hard surface underneath him. This was followed by a slow realization that he could move neither his arms nor legs. Panic rose in him but he forced it down as he realized that it was not due to actual paralysis, but rather metal restraints that held him in place. Hazy shapes began to appear in his vision. He heard a soft voice and soon recognized it as his teacher's. "Ah, waking up, are we? How are you feeling?"
"Like some asshole stuck me with a syringe. How're you?"
"You're upset."
"Brilliant deduction."
"I suppose that's understandable, but when you come to understand the gift I've given you-"
"Gift? You really are crazy!"
"Everything I've done was to benefit us both, my boy!"
"Then why am I tied down here."?
"It's for your own safety. You were thrashing around so much I was afraid you'd hurt yourself, and we couldn't have that."
"Yeah, paragon of kindness that you are. Now, are you going to explain your evil plans like a good mad scientist, or what?"
"Your flippant attitude begins to annoy me. There is nothing evil about my plans whatsoever."
"You mean aside from kidnapping, threats of violence, assault, and who-knows-what unauthorized medical experimentation on a human being?"
"Well...yes, other than those things. It's for a good cause though."
"Do tell."
The scientist stepped over to where Tiren lay. "I'm going to release you now. Please be so good as to not attempt to run away. I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."
Tiren thought for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, why not; I have to admit, I am kinda curious."
Stein unlocked the restraints and allowed Tiren to sit up, rubbing his wrists in an attempt to get the blood flowing again. "Alright, so why did you do this, anyway? And what exactly did you do?"
Stein sat down in a chair nearby and began his story. "I should begin by saying that I'm not a young man anymore, of which I'm sure you are very aware. A few months ago, I woke up one morning, and began to think on where my life has led me, and found myself terribly disappointed with the results."
He leaned forward now. "Do you know what scientific and medical qualifications I hold? Probably not, I don't announce them. Tiren, I hold a P.H.D. in biology, M.A.s in physics and chemistry, and even a B.S. in Earth Sciences. I entered university when I was younger than you are now and spend decades studying there. Everyone said I was a genius, a prodigy! They said I would be the greatest genius since Einstein! And so, I learned everything I could. I wanted to impress people, to be remembered one day as a truly great man. Is that too much to ask for one of my talent? I don't think so. And do you know what? When I finished my studies, no one would hire me! I was overqualified, some said. Others felt threatened by me. I was ignored, cast away, forgotten. I had to get a job teaching high school science by downplaying my credentials. Imagine; a man of my ability, my intellect, teaching high school!"
Tiren grimaced. Much as Stein's words sounded like angry ranting, if it was true.... the man had been done an injustice. "I guess that is kinda unfair."
"Kinda unfair? It's a travesty I tell you! My dreams...my hopes...all destroyed because they feared me. Do you know what I found in my self- refection? That my life was wasted. Totally wasted! Because of this, I decided to try to enjoy myself as best I could, while obviously keeping my job. I began going out nights, coming back drunk often as not. I gambled away much of my salary, and then I borrowed money in an attempt to win that money back. Soon, I'd acquired enormous debts to some very dangerous people. When they came for me one dark night five months ago, I was sure they were going to kill me. I couldn't allow that, even though I had to lower myself to begging on my knees for my life. I had to live! I didn't want to die alone, unmourned, unremembered except as 'that teacher who died'. I couldn't die that way! I waned the world to remember the name of Franklyn Nathaniel Stein!"
He was ranting now, almost in tears, and Tiren, looking upon him, felt pity for this man who had clearly been broken by life. "But they didn't kill you, obviously."
"No. Somehow, I don't know how, they'd heard of me. They knew who I was, what I could do. They made me an offer. I would have a lab, facilities, everything I needed to work. If I did one task for them, not only would my debts be forgiven and forgotten, but also I would be given enough money to pursue whatever work I wished for the rest of my life. Think of it! Everything I want, handed to me for one job."
"I take it I'm it? What exactly DID you do to me?"
Stein chuckled as though he'd just heard an amusing joke. "That's just it! I don't know!"
Tiren felt a chill slide over him. "W-what do you mean you don't know! You did this to me, what did you do?"
"They gave me a serum, of their own development they said. They wished me to research possible effects on a human subject. Oh, I examined it. Do you know what I found?"
"I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
"I don't know! Oh, I know what it was in the most general of terms. That was easily enough to deduce even through preliminary tests."
"What was it?"
"Blood. It was blood."
"You gave me someone's BLOOD?"
"It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Whatever it was from, it wasn't human. I experimented on animals first, trying to see what would happen to them. They acquired most unusual abilities."
"What sort of abilities?"
"For example, I administered a small dose to a rabbit. It proceeded to chew its way through its cage-a METAL cage, mind you-with startling efficiency and nearly escaped."
"So you created Super bunny. What happened to it?"
Here Stein looked uncomfortable. "Well...you see...with all the animal subjects, there were complications."
Tiren tried to keep the anger out of his voice. "What sort of complications?"
"They all suffered heart attacks. Fatal heart attacks."
"And yet, you gave this to ME?"
"I assure you, I know where I went wrong-"
"I SURE AS HELL HOPE SO!"
Tiren leapt to his feet, so angry and frightened that he could barely speak. "I don't want to die!"
Stein held up his hands defensively. "You won't, you won't. I assure you. The problem was that animal subjects simply couldn't handle it properly. A human subject should have no problem."
"Did you know?" Tiren's voice was icy.
"Well...I had a very good idea-"
"DID YOU KNOW?"
"No."
Tiren nodded to himself. 'I can't believe I was feeling story for this guy! He deserves whatever he gets.' "Alright, next question. Why me?"
"Truly? At first, it was a matter of convenience. You were there; you were a good probable subject. Over the last two weeks however, I've come to respect you. You have a good work ethic, despite your lack of scientific talent. Your flippant and disrespectful attitude conceals a keen and clever mind. You are honest, forthright, and you do as you're told. These are all good qualities for one in your position. I decided that you were more than convenient. You were worthy."
Tiren nodded grudgingly, forcing himself not to concentrate on the praise he was receiving. "All right then, one last question. These people who hired you; what do they want from me?"
"Does it matter? I have been assured that they will provide you with whatever you want in exchange for your assistance. Money. Power. Anything you want. If it's within their power, it will be yours."
Tiren shook his head. "I'm not buying this. There has to be something they want from me, something big. What is it?"
"I believe they wish you to remove...certain people...who they see as a threat to them. Not terribly heavy work even, if the serum worked as I suspect it did."
Tiren threw back his head and laughed. "You've GOT to be kidding me. You're saying that these people...whoever they are...want me to be their own private assassin? Hell with that. I'm out of here!"
Tiren moved towards the door, but Stein stepped in front of him. "Please, you must reconsider! We can both benefit from this, I with money to fund my research, and you...with whatever you want. Surely you can see the benefits?"
Tiren looked at the man before him. Where he once felt dislike mixed with irritation, and later a grudging respect, he now felt disgust. "At what price? Forget it. I'm no murderer. I don't want to kill anyone. Not for money, not for power. I won't do it! What about my family? Would I have to give up any thought of seeing them again? No way."
"You're being very foolish."
Stein took a step forward angrily, but this time Tiren was not going to back down. The teacher was bigger than he was, and older, but Tiren was too angry to care. The teacher took another step. Tiren gave him a shove.
He didn't push him very hard, not very hard at all. Yet Stein flew backwards with a cry, striking the wall with a loud thumping sound. Amazed, but not about to pause to see if the man was alright, Tiren, his way suddenly clear, ran for the door. It was still locked. Remembering what had just happened, Tiren quickly made his decision. 'No door? Maybe I should try to make one.'
The building was old, the windows boarded up. Tiren reared back and punched the board over the window at full strength. The boards snapped and went flying, leaving a nice hole for Tiren to climb through, while he nursed his splinter-filled hand. 'I think I won't try that again for awhile...'
Deciding not to wait around, Tiren ran as fast as he could down the street, near-blinded by mixed fear and relief. He did not notice until he stopped running that he'd been matching speed with the cars on the road.
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"Damn, this is COOL!"
A few pedestrians turned towards the speaker before hurrying on. Whatever was going on, it was none of their business.
Tiren laughed to himself as he walked down the road. For the first couple of hours since leaving Stein's lab, he'd been afraid, nervous. After thinking about it however...
'I'm like a superhero! Think of all the things I can do, all the adventures I can have, all the people I can help! They'll be telling stories about me in a hundred years like they do of Robin Hood or Hercules! I'll be a real-life hero. Should I make a costume? I guess I already have a secret identity. What would be a cool name to call myself?'
Dreams of excitement and adventure-turned-real swarmed through his mind as he walked. He'd do good with his powers, of course. Maybe he'd move to a larger city. New York would be good. All sorts of crime happened there. Maybe L.A.
'How hard can it be to find a crime being committed when I go looking for one? If I wander around downtown I should be able to find something.'
And so, he walked, seeking adventure, confident in the new abilities that a niggling voice in the back of his mind warned him that he didn't even understand.
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Still filled with exciting thoughts of the adventures he would have and the great deeds he would do, Tiren didn't notice quite how late it had gotten. He simply took a moment away from his daydreams to glance at his watch and noticed that it was nearly midnight. 'I've gotta go home! I'm gonna catch hell as it is...I've gotta come up with a convincing explanation. "I was kidnapped and experimented on by a mad scientist" really won't cut it, even if it is true.'
He quickly decided that, while running at superhuman speeds from downtown to his house would be incredibly cool, it would be counterproductive to his secret identity...such as it was...so he had better find a phone and call home.
And so, he walked down the street, keeping his eye open for a pay phone and his mind busy trying to think of a reasonable-sounding excuse for who he was late. He was so intent on both these things that he nearly didn't notice when he turned a corner to see two knife-wielding men standing in front of a third man who had his back to the wall.
The muggers were rough-looking sorts. They wore torn jeans and dirty, hooded sweatshirts. They wore identical grins at the obvious fear of their prey. Neither of them was looking at Tiren.
The third man was middle-aged. He was neither well dressed nor poorly dressed. Probably just some poor guy who drew a late shift at work on his way to the bus stop or something', Tiren thought. Earlier that day, nothing he could have done would have been effectual against these two men, but now...now he had the power.
He moved quickly up behind the men before they could fully turn around and reached out with both hands. Tiren was tall for his age, and it wasn't hard for him to reach out and grab the collars of their shirts, and pull in opposite directions. Hard.
The men's heads met with a loud crack.
Both slumped to the ground.
The muggers' victim turned and ran, not stopping to see or even thank who had rescued him.
Tiren smirked. This was easy. He would have left the scene right then, but the headlights of a passing car briefly lit the area and Tiren's eyes widened.
His hands were covered in blood.
Bending down, suddenly terrified, Tiren felt around the area the two fallen men.
The ground was sticky around their heads.
Frantic now, Tiren bent down and checked both men for a pulse.
No pulse. No breath.
He stood on shaky legs and took a step back. His voice croaked out a single word. "No..."
He took another step backwards. "Oh God...no."
The enormity of what he had done hit him then and in terror, he turned and ran. 'It wasn't supposed to happen this way...I was supposed to be a hero. Please...God...I didn't mean to kill them.'
He ran until he felt his legs would give out and then he stopped, stumbling into a nearby alley, where he collapsed from exhaustion. 'It wasn't supposed to be this way...I was supposed to be a hero.'
After thinking back to how he'd come to be in this place, he stayed there, silently, for some time.
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The morning sun brought him no warmth when Tiren finally forced himself to rise. He had spent the night in the alley; barely moving from the near- fetal position he had curled himself up into. When sleep had eventually come to him, exhausted as he was, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of white corpses and bloody-red hands.
He left the alley, silently pondering his next course of action. 'I...don't want these powers. I was being so childish, thinking about things I could do that I didn't think about consequences. Maybe...yes, that's it! Stein did this to me, maybe there's a way he can reverse it. Take that gunk outta me or something.' A faint hope, but he clung to it like a lifeline and ran off down the street towards Stein's lab, taking care not to run too fast.
It was a long run, but he was determined. His feet were hurting horribly by the time he reached his destination, but he gritted his teeth as he rounded the last corner...and stopped in surprise at the sight before him.
An ambulance was parked outside the old building. Two police cars were there as well. A large crowd had also gathered and, despite police efforts to keep them away, was talking excitedly. Tiren caught snatches of conversation, as he got closer.
"Terrible, just terrible."
"Isn't it? Poor fellow."
"How'd it happen?"
"Shot, I think."
"That's what I heard too. Any idea who could've done it?"
"An angry student, I heard. Was failing and the teacher wouldn't change his grade."
"Ridiculous! Where'd he get a gun from?"
"The CAN get them you know, even here. Probably some sort of gang connection."
"Children these days! It's unbelievable I tell you. Why when I was young- "
"They probably know which one did it already, not that it'll do this poor guy much good."
"I hope they catch him!"
There were general mutters of agreement from the crowd, more shaking of heads and talk of "bad business" and "children these days". Tiren slowly stepped back around the corner and groaned, running a hand over his face.
Stein was dead. This, Tiren knew, was a bad thing. With Stein dead, the only people alive who now had any idea of what had been done to him, who might be able to reverse it, were Stein's mysterious employers. From the sound of things, they were definitely not the sort of people he wanted to mix with.
Should he turn himself in? That might be a good idea. Surely he could make the courts understand that he didn't...hadn't...
No. It wouldn't work. People already believed that he was guilty, were positive of it. What could he tell them? That he'd been experimented on and turned into a monster? That would just make him look insane. Oh, he could probably give them proof, but what then? They'd probably want to study him, find out exactly where his powers came from. Not to mention the two deaths last night...he WAS guilty of those. No, there was only one thing left to do.
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Sneaking into his home...his parents' home, he reminded himself, wasn't very difficult. He had a key, and his parents were both at work during the day. They'd probably assumed that he would call them the moment he arrived home to let them know he was safe. He wanted to.
He left the phone where it was, untouched.
His first stop was his room. Taking out his battered backpack, he stuffed it as full of clothes as he could. It was made for camping, sturdy, well made, and capable of carrying a fair bit more than it looked like at first glance.
His clothes packed, Tiren opened his dresser drawer, felt around inside, and came out with the glass bottle that contained his private stash of money. A few hundred dollars in all, Tiren had been saving allowance money, birthday present money, and paper-route money from when he had a paper route for several years. When asked why, he had always shrugged and said that maybe one day he'd find something he wanted to buy enough that the money would come in handy. Now, he was thankful he'd saved at all.
The money went into his wallet, which bulged from the bills within. He put it back in his pocket and, lastly, took his guitar, safely inside its protective case from where it sat in the corner of the room. He put his backpack on his pack, slung the guitar case over one shoulder, and walked out the door.
This had been his home for as long as he could remember. Through changes and renovations, the house had always been his home. Now, he was leaving it. For a moment, he stopped, wondering if he should leave a note, but then decided against it. Better for his family that he should simply disappear. Besides...he'd be back one day...wouldn't he?
As he walked on, heading down the endless road that stretched before him, Tiren Jameson found that if he thought about that question, he didn't like the answer he came up with.
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Author's Notes: Wow, I never thought this chapter would be such a long one. It's longer than the first two put together. Oh, I had a general outline, but I added bits here and there to lengthen a few scenes out a bit, trying to give a feel of what the characters actual lives are like.
Now, I've a few things to say on the subject of new characters. THIS IS NOT A SELF-INSERTION FIC just in case anyone was wondering. Neither Cal in the first prologue, or Tiren in this part or the others who will appear in good time, are me. They are my own creations, but they are not ME. Second, none of my characters will be super characters. What about Tiren? Well, when you compare him to Ranma and Ryoga in cannon, he's about on par. In fact, as he has no martial arts training and no ki abilities or special techniques (at least right now, he will, of course, grow stronger as all my characters will over time), he is substantially weaker. It is in no way my intention to create one of those 'new character shows up, beats up the entire cast and solves all their problems because he's perfect' fics. Those are a) cliché, and I'm trying to avoid clichés, and b) in my personal opinion, not very interesting. As I've said before, if you have a problem with new characters and want the same old plotlines and sight gags, this is not the fic for you. I am attempting to be as creative and original as possible, without relying on the standard clichés for romances, villains, everyone becoming the closest of friends, etc. etc.
Now, a note on match-ups. At the moment, there aren't any. I have almost no match-ups planned whatsoever. Oh, there WILL be match-ups, but I'm trying to get away from the standard Ranma/Akane, Shampoo/Mousse, Ukyo/Ryoga, Nabiki/Kuno, Kasumi/Tofu, etc. etc. You may expect to see a wide variety of match-ups; some may even be yaoi or yuri, MAY, as that really isn't my thing. Expect the rating to remain the same. I will never right a lemon scene. Never.
Next, character-bashing. Don't expect any. I like all the Ranma ½ characters, yes, even often-unpopular characters like Genma and Akane. They all have their good points and bad points. I refuse to vilify any of them in an exceptional way. The reverse is also true. Don't expect to see Saint Ranma the Perfect or whatever. A good character is a mix of both good and bad, though quite probably more of one than the other.
Next, OOCness. A sad part of trying to write an original fic, especially an altaverse like this, is that the characters WILL be OOC. I am not against OOCness in and of itself, truthfully. What I AM against is authors deciding 'hey, let's have Ranma just wake up one morning and decide to kill so-and-so because that would be cool'. The cannon Ranma simply wouldn't do that unless some major changes in his life occurred to move him towards that decision. Hence, the purpose of these prologues is to show at least a hint of why the characters develop into the people they become later.
Comments, criticism, questions, suggestions, etc. are welcome. Flames are not.
Next chapter-Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane's life without their father. Young Ryoga Hibiki finds a new master to study under ("Why do I have to take these panties?"). Shinnosuke makes an appearance...or does he? A young samurai, quite different from Tatewaki Kuno, attempts to reunite with his family. An old man (Not Happosai) is made an offer...and given a gift.
(Yes, it WILL be a long one, but I want to get these prologues done, so the next one will be the last. It will also, hopefully, take nowhere near as long to write as this one has.)