Spirit Guardian
By D'Fused
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 chracters are property of Rumiko Takahashi. Any resemblence to other characters or stories, unless specified, are unintentional. So be it.
Chapter 2
Its a Normal Day in the Neighborhood
The morning was the normal type the people of Nerima expected. The sun coming up in the east, with blue skies and white clouds. Most people were getting ready for another day. Housewives making lunches while children went through their morning routines to get ready for school, as did their fathers for the workday. Those who could opened their shops in preparation of business, hoping against hope that trouble would not come their way today. Repair crews and construction companies were busy as usual, trying to make some progress in their long orders of repairs. Soon, many left for work, taking the quickest and safest routes to work which, for some, meant a large detour around certain areas. As the day became older, students started walking thei way towards the various learning facilities, some sooner than others. Some went through their morning routines before making their way to school, some so routine, people would set clocks to it.
As it happened, one of those clock-setting routines revolved around the Tendo Dojo. Several houses and businesses within yelling-distance of the place had their clocks synchronized with an event that happened every school day. Except for those times the faily was away, or recovering from some major event, or any other earth-shaking normal occurance around the area. But, on what could be called normally normal days, one event would - always - happen in the morning. At 8:20 in the morning, pretty much on the dot for several houses, a voice would ring out from the house with a peculiar call.
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"Ranma, we're going to be late!"
A figure took off from the front gate of the dojo, running along the street toward Furikan High School. Immediately following the first figure was a second figure, taller than the first, still chewing on a piece of breakfast.
"Akane, wait up, will y'a?"
The first figure looked back as she ran ahead, frowning at her fiancee as he came out trying to eat his food while putting his backpack on. Giving him a huff, she looked ahead and took off without him, deciding he can be late instead of waiting for him.
Ranma was still trying to do three things at once, namely running, eating and thinking of telling Akane how uncute a tomboy she was. He had ran out the front door and around the corner before he realised he forgot his lunch. Grimacing, he turned and jumped over the wall back into the yard. As he landed, he saw the eldest Tendo daughter smiling in front of him as she held out the lunch.
"Here you go, Ranma. You almost forgot this," Kasumi said, holding out the bento for him.
"Thanks Kasumi."
Kasumi watched as Ranma took the box from her and jumped back onto and over the wall before going to class. She smiled as she returned to the kitchen, thinking on how polite Ranma always was to her.
"Oh Ranma..."
Ranma took the box and jumped over the wall again, then started running toward the school, deciding to forgo running on the fence since he needed to get to school in a hurry. As he got closer to the school, he could hear the first class bell start to ring. Shifting into high gear, Ranma took the next corner at top speed, jumped and rolled as the gates to the school started to close. Without breaking momentum, Ranma got to his feet and started running up the walkway.
In front, Tatewaki Kuno waited for his hateful rival for Akane's attention as he did many mornings. As the pig-tailed student regained his feet, Kuno swept his bokken in an arc towards his opponent.
"The revenge of heaven shall be felt today, my accursed adversary. Prepare yourself! I. Tatewaki Kuno, shall smite you with my blade."
Ranma's only response was a kick to the kendoist's head, which stopped Kuno promptly. "Sorry, Kuno. Not now. I'm going to be late."
In his typical fashion, Ranma brought his foot down and jumped onto his oppenent's head, using the momentum to spring-board onto the second-story balcony. Sparing a second to change trajectory, Ranma jumped a second time up to his classroom, landing smoothly inside, narrowing beating the bell as everyone started to sit down. While everyone was impressed by his sense of timing, they didn't think it anything unusual since they had witnessed odder things in the mornings.
"Why did you leave me back at home Akane?" Ranma asked as he took his seat beside her.
"You jerk, I would've been late if I had waited for you," she resonded.
"Well, excuse me, but you could have gotten me up on time."
"And who's fault is that?"
Both glared at each other from their desks, ignoring the teacher to the point where he threw his piece of chalk at Ranma. Ranma's head recoiled back at it contacted, making him and his fiannce look forward.
"Both of you, into the hallway," the teacher informed the students now paying attention.
The two students got up and obediantly moved outside the class, grabbing pails out of the supply closet and filling them up with water
before standing outside the classroom. Each glared at the other as they stood beside each other, turning away and silently blaming each other for being out there. Neither said anything for a few minutes until Ranma muttered something under his breath. Akane turned to her prospective husband, wanting to be sure she heard right.
"What did you just say?" the short-haired Tendo asked.
"I said 'Uncute tomboy'."
Ranma should have expected her not to take a remark like that lightly. Akane's response to his comment was the fourth option on the 'Ranma Response Counter' to choose from, since it was handy at the moment: Instant-Female, just add water.
Ranma soggedly walked down the hallways, trying to silently make her way to the bathroom and change back without anyone seeing her.
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At lunch, Akane chose to sit with Yuki and Sakuri, doing her best to ignore Ranma. On his part, he ignored her as well, sitting across the room with his friends as they gave the martial artist the third degree. Hiroshi looked at his friend in amusement.
"How do you two do it almost everyday?" he asked.
"Yeah," Daisuke said as he looked sideways towards the girls. "You two go at each throats almost daily it seems, and neither seem to tire of it."
"Aw, its none of yor business," Ranma replied. "I don't plan to let her do this to me all the time."
His two friends looked at each other in amazement. Thir friend, one of the most powerful martial artist they have ever known, was weird in some ways, both thought alomst simutaneously. Neither thought to mention how he and Akane almost never agreed on anything, and the relationship the two had were more along lines of full-scale war, with one side taking all the damage. And yet he planned to stop this one day.
"Uh, Ranma?" said Hiroshi.
"What do you mean by that?" finished Daisuke.
Ranma looked up at the two, finishing off the remainder of Kasumi's lunch. "Huh?"
"You just said you plan to stop her from hitting you..."
"...but you refuse to hit girls, so how...?"
Ranma blinked a few times before realising what he had said. "Well...I...that is...me and Akane..."
"Yes?"
"We're listening, Ranma."
"Well...I just thought...that..." Ranma began.
"That you would...what?" Daisuke asked.
Finally Ranma had enough. He got to his feet, angry that his two friends would prod him for answers. "Jeez, would you leave it alone? I have no intentions of being with a macho chick like her..."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"
Ranma cringed and slowly turned around to the vision of a flickering blue aura surrounding a certain fiancee across the room from him and getting closer. Akane was stalking towards him, murder clearly written across her face, and Ranma knew he was in trouble.
"Akane, please, let me explain..."
"You..." Akane muttered as she stepped closer. "You..." As Ranma backed up to the window, Akane started to move her fist back, choosing Option #2 in her 'Ranma Response Counter' list.
"You insensitive JERK!"
Daisuke and Hiroshi watched as Ranma became on the recieving end of the Low Orbit Punch Akane had the patent to. Both boys sighed as they watched Ranma create a new skylight as he became a blur in the sky.
"...Don't plan to do this all the time, he says..."
"... Not any time soon, I think..."
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Ranma tracked his bearing and speed, knowing the basic area that he would be landing as he started to fall from his afternoon flight. He saw that the landing site would be near the Tendo dojo as he fell back towards the ground. In fact, he thought, it would drop him just inside the walls, verging near the pond. As he came closer to the ground, Ranma realised that, with his luck, most likely he would...
*SPLASH!*
A wet female Ranma slowly made her way out of the pond, shaking as much water as she could of her body before stepping inside. The last thing she wanted to do was get the house wet, especially since Kasumi probably spent the morning cleaning the house. She ran her hands down her hair, straining the water as best she could before doing the same with her Chinese shirt. After doing the best she could, she turned towards the house, to see Kasumi standing just outside the house, towel in her hand.
"Oh my," Kasumi said, handing the towel to the wet teen, "Did you get into trouble at school, Ranma?"
"Nah, just sent home early."
Kasumi smiled, understanding almost immediately the cause of the trip she just had. She waited for Ranma to finish drying herself as best as possible, then turning back to the kitchen, said "Don't worry about school, Ranma. Everyone will be returning pretty soon, so you can go have a bath before supper."
"Thanks Kasumi."
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Ranma watched as she went back into the house, carryingf the wet towel with her. She has always been so kind to me, she thought, entering the house, grabbing dry clothing before opening the bathroom doors.
After stripping off her wet clothes and splashing a pail of cold water over herself, she entered the furo, intent on relaxing. Thoughts of what to do about a certain troublesome fiancee (alright they are all troubling, but you can only say uncute tomboy so many times) were soon replaced by a calming sense, one could almost call serene, of good will, affection and endless devotion. As these emotions slowly wrapped around the body soaking in the water, something seemed to rest inside, a wall or a barrier of sorts that had refused to yield until this moment.
Gently smiling while closing his eyes, Ranma slowly started to settle more comfortable into the water, trying to grasp what he was feeling in his mind. Within the vison of his closed eyes, he searched for this change that occurred within, a difference in his person between this and the last moment. Slowly, a small light appeared, infitestimal in the sea of black yet undeniable in its existance. As Ranma concentrated on this light, it quivered, not moving from its position, but changing, rotating at a high speed and growing, only minisculy compared to the black around it. Something that seemed distant, but was coming closer. Something that was right, he mentally thought, which only seemed to enfuel the light to quiver and rotate faster as it came...
Ranma's eyes opened with a sudden quickness as he heard his name yelled out from beyond the bathroom doors. Gone were the serene feelings, as did the light when Ranma closed his eyes and tried to find whatever it was that he had seen while relaxed. Gone also was most of the heat in the water, which meant he had to get out soon, or else he had taken a bath for nothing. Sighing, he moved to get out and put on clothes before anything else happened.
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A plane at the Tokyo International Airport smoothly touched down on the runway, coming to a stop before moving towards the disembarkment area. After all was checked to be safe, the hatch opened, allowing the attendants to send passengers out into the walkway and into the airport.
As were usual of any flight, the passengers could be split into two groups: residents and foreigners. Residents were mostly of Japanese bearing, be them businessmen, families on vacation, or students who were learning at education facilities outside their homeland. Not many distinctions could be made between these passengers and other countrymen, if one discluded that they had gone away from home and have returned, if for the moment.
The foreigners were more distinct in the crowd, since they were foriegners, of course. They ranged from caucasions, pale compared to the darker tinges of those who can claim African or Indian backgrounds, although not many of either dotted the crowd at the moment. Each of these foreigners seemed to stand out as they moved, to be admired from afar or to cautious about, depending on the person. Everyone seemed to have something that was truly unique about them, from the Irish red hair one vacationing family sported, to the tall businessman by himself, walking quickly towards the exit, to the one man wearing the odd-shaped hat, walking slower than most, but made up the lack of speed with a set direction and determination on his face. And, like a kid easily distracted by another interesting toy, the foreigners were vaguely remembered as a new one entered the line of sight, another marvel to gaze at.
Some of those exiting the plane were not much better. For some, the exciting wonder at being outside one's country and out into unmarked territory tended to make many act like a child in front of the candy store. Many stared at strange people and at strange items and watched strange customs which made no sense to them, yet was a part of everyday life here. Those who had visited before acted a little more sensible, ranging from only gawking occasionally to ignoring all and moving purposely.
But, like all passengers the world over, there was a purpose behind their flight, be it pleasure or business. Soon, after the few who were waiting for another flight filtered out of the crowd, the main body started making their way in a steady stream out into the customs area, picking up their luggage along the way. Moving toward the respective arrival and return lines, everyone waited patiently as the custom workers checked the personal belongings and asking a few questions before moving on to the next person.
Among those passengers in the arrival line, one certain man looked around at the airport, watching the crowded walkways and seats of businessmen and families on vacation. Despite the crowds and noise, he could still pick out those who were interested in him. His knowledge of the Japanese language was only mildly accented, which allowed him to listen to conversations many thought he wouldn't understand completely. He smiled back at one girl he judged at about twenty-five or so when she shyly smiled at him, then winked at her, which produced a small blush on her face. He watched her move away from him, turning forward and moving with the flow of the line, adjusting his fedora. He was told it gave him less of a cocky and devil-may-care look to him, and that was one less thing he would want to impress the custom agents with.
A feeling of vanity came from his senses in the back of his mind, followed by a mixture of resentment and anger. He mentally sighed, wishing that he didn't have to feel those emotions for the last couple days. It had been bad that he had felt those feelings between the meeting and when he left, but they had remained there through the long flight across the Pacific, making a tedious and very boring journey worse. He knew why he had to go alone, since it had been explained to him during the meeting. Worse was she knew that as well, and she had insisted that she should go. It took a few hours of discussion before she conceded the reasoning behind the decision, but she put the blame solely on him, since she couldn't argue with who gave the orders. And that she could make him suffer in private as well.
A mischievious smile came to his lips as he made an image partly appear in his mind, but quickly covered it before it had formed enough to be comprehensible. The emotions of anger and resentment started to include curiosity as he mentally kept away from thinking of the image he had, wanting to build the suspense before uncovering it. Slowly, curiosity became dominant of the emotions, slowly choking everything else out until the one emotion remained. Finally, he let the image show, one of him sitting on a chair with a certain girl over his lap. He replaced the picture with one of him spanking the girl's butt, changing it with the first image and repeating the two images for a couple seconds.
The response was predictable. Suprise, then apprehension at the thought, then determination. Obviously that last was a dare to see him actually try such a thing. After a few seconds, frustration turning slowly to understandment and apologetic.
Apology accepted, he thought. He sent the image of him shrugging off something, then with him smiling to get the message across. The returning emotions was still apolegetic, quickly turning back to resentment and anger, but not as strong as before.
He understood why she would be feeling those emotions. He held the image of a woman slightly smaller than himself, with short brown hair and blue eyes, imposed over a rough picture of Japan. The response was agreement, and acceptance that neither had anything to do with it.
"Um excuse me, sir..." a man said in Japanese.
The man focused back to the person in front of him, blinking his eyes as he realised he was next in line. Quickly he sent the image on him at the front of a line of people as he moved forward, hauling his stuff with him. No response answered, letting him concentrate on the matter at hand.
May I see your passport the customs worker asked in English, making sure the passenger could understand him.
"Don't worry, we can talk in Japanese." the man said, moving a hand into an inside pocket and pulling out his passport.
Taking the identification from the foreigner, the woker looked through the file of the guy, comparing the picture to the person in front of him. Both had the same clear-cut feature, brown eyes and brown hair, albeit the man in question's hair was noticebly longer than the one in the photo; otherwise, the facial features were the same.
Still, he had to go through the motions of confirming the guys's info.
"Name, sir?"
"Charles Douglas Frepp, but everyone calls me Charlie." said the fedora-wearing man.
"Age?"
"28," Charlie promptly replied.
"Length of stay?"
Charlie smiled. "For several weeks."
"Reason for stay in Japan?"
"Well, I am on vacation for the first few weeks, but I will be talking to the History Club at Tokyo U about 16th century weaponry before my scheduled return," Charlie said, drawing out two folded pieces of paper, ready to hand it to the customs agent. "I also have with me a replica of an English Epee and matching sheathe with me, to show the class an example of the difference between Western and Oriental weapons." He pointed to a wooden case on top of his suitcase with his free hand. "I have the ownership papers here if you need to look at them."
The customs agent took the papers and opened them, reading the ownership permit and the invitation to Todai. Then, after thinking they looked legitemite, the wooden case was unlocked and opened to confirm the claim, as well to check for anything else.
Inside, true enough, was an Western sword sitting in the middle of the case, the metal hilt and cross-guards polished to a shine while protected in styrofoam casing. The black sheathe was also gleaming, although it seemed a little more worse for wear, but the customs agent didn't think anything of this, since the guy probably displayed it outside its casing for eager students and such. After a few minutes of checking the rest of the man's luggage, Charlie was led to a room where he could wait for confirmation of the permit and invitation. Charlie just smiled and stated nothing wrong with it, saying that he had done this enough times to understand.
When the agent went away to make the callls, Charlie relaxed a little. He wasn't worried about the permit of invitation; they were both real, No, he had worried that they would ask him to unsheathe the sword to confirm that it was an item for display only.
Charlie chuckled at the thought. Thinking how the man would react if he knew he had seen an actual, servicable sword in this age made him quietly laugh.
He felt the slight annoyance in his head, which almost made him laugh harder. As he continued to laugh, the annoyance became stronger, only diminishing after he stopped chuckling. It was replaced by anxiousness and concern.
Of course, he thought to himself, she would be worried about him after having done this for years, traveling with a weapon close to hand. He knew that the permit was legit, since he did own it and displayed it often to people, although not always to those who were wanting to see it. And the invitation was real. Certain favors had been called in to make it possible, but it gave him a reason to be in Tokyo for a few days.
Projecting pictures of the permit, drawing the sword, the invitation, and memories of times when the two of them had done this in other airports, he gave the idea that all was fine. Nothing would be different this time either.
The feeling he recieved in return was doubt, mixed slightly with fear. She didn't have as much confidence as he did that he would get away with it.
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Charlie smiled again as he walked out of the airport, hauling his luggage and wooden case on a stroller behind him. As he predicted, he had made it by customs without a problem. The papers were technically legit; the sword was a replica of the old epees, but one that was made to be used, not just for show. If he drew the weapon an inch or two out of its sheathe, the usual gloss on a display-only weapon would have made any suspisions of it being display-only would be gone, and he knew it wouldn't something simple to cover.
His invitation to make a show of the weapon was also true. He did, in fact, plan to spend a day at the university to show the weapon off to students. Those who made the arrangements for him to be in Japan saw the solution the best way to cover why he would bring a weapon across the ocean in a plane, where it was impossible to hide the weapon somewhere, or bribe certain people to keep quiet on the subject.
The feeling of relief came from the back of his mind, mixed slightly wiith anger. Charlie smiled as he translated the emotions; she was glad he was through the danger, but wished he hadn't been right.
Still smiling outwardly, he sent the image of himself seen in the window reflection beside him. He made sure that she understood through the image that he was highly sure nothing could go wrong anytime soon. After all, he wasn't defenseless or in a bad sitution. Not waiting for a reasponse, he found a cab, loaded his stuff into the trunk, and got in the back. All he said to the driver was "Take me to a good hotel in Nerima, please."
Charlie swore the man winced when the word 'Nerima' came up.
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Near the business section of Nerima, one ramen shop, locally owned and operated, once again felt the burden that comes with living in an area with highly odd characters living near-by.
Within a few moments of entering the shop, Happosai leaped outside after finishing off several bowls near hand inside while dodging flying objects thrown by the proprietor. As he yelled where to send the bill to (the Tendo dojo, compliments of Ranma Satome, of course), he decided that it was time to go home for supper. He stilled carried the bag of underwear with him, enough of a haul to last him the day, at least. Taking off towards the training hall, the old man ran as if a crowd of girls were chasing him at the moment, a statement that was only partially true.
Before he knew it, a hand grabbed the bag he was carrying, picking him up in the process. The grandmaster of the Anything Goes School turned to see a hectic female Ranma, running at full speed, clearly upset by something. Blinking, the old man turned a little more to see Akane running behind them, wooden hammer in hand and murder in her eyes, followed by the regular crowd that seemed to follow the two wherever they went.
The old man turned back to Ranma, dissapointment clearly in his eyes. "Ranma," he said, "look at yourself. If I were you and had all these pretty ladies chasing after me, I wouldn't be running away."
Ranma lifted the old man up higher so she could talk to him at eye level. "And who do you think is responsible for this fiasco?" Without waiting a response, she gave Happosai a quick punt into the air, which opened the blanket with all the beauties he had 'freed' that day.
"My prettiiiiieeeeeeessssssss!" the voice dragged as he launched into the air.
Ranma sighed as he saw the freak become a point in the sky. Why can't nothing happen to him for once?
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Charlie didn't know what was wrong with the taxi driver after they had enetered the Nerima ward. After asking for a place to stay in the specified region, they had made good time on his accounts, compared to how traffic was moving and the difficulty of the Japanese-equivalent of rush hour. But, as soon as he came within a few minutes of the area he was wanting to go, the driver had slowed down substantially, and acted as if something would destroy him, his occupant and his car within seconds, with the chance of taking everything within a five block radius as well. The one time he had asked said something during their trip, mainly to ask what war they were fighting out here, the man had reacted by hitting the gas and speedng through several residential blocks before he had realised what had happened before he resumed his slow pace.
He frowned, wondering what was so bad that the man was frightened just by being in this area. Out of more boredom than anything else, Charlie took a look outside, watching the buildings go by, seeing them without actually seeing mute evidence of the thing the driver feared. As he looked out the vehicle, sending several images of what he had witnessed of the driver's reactions while they had traveled, balantly forgetting to screen out the actual images of the buildings themselves as he conversed mentally. Slowly, confusion and wonder replaced any other emotion he felt in the back of his mind, something that made him become more alert at what he was sending. Mentally hitting himself for his error, Charlie quickly filtered the buildings he was physically seeing with his eyes, then resent the images of the driver.
The returning emotions was crisp understandment, but mingled with confusion and curiosity, but not directed at the previous image.
Wondering what that could be about, Charlie outwardly focused, meaning to puzzle out what the received feelings were meaning. As he looked outside the vehicle, a reason came to him. Another image of the surrounding area confirmed it; this is what she was wanting to know.
The Nerima area alomst seemed like a war zone indeed! Uncountable holes seemed to dot places in walls, trees and telephone poles that have had better days. Near one building, several cuts were, by Charlie's trained eye, made by horizontal cuts of a sword-like weapon, while the pock-marks of a near-by statue indicated a multiple thrust technique by a similar, if not the same, weapon. That, or maybe bullet-holes, judging from several craters which he could only see grenades creating. Many houses and business had the look of patch jobs or were closed, if at all occupied, for badly-needed repairs.
What made everything worse was that local residents didn't seem to take particular notice to these problems, as if these were almost a daily happening. One couple, talking as they traveled down the walkay, unconsciouly walked around a small hole in the ground, never missing a step or word as the cautiously moved around as they continued down the street, and an old lady was flinging water out on a street, seemingly oblivious of the crack running across the wooden door behind her or the bent metal sign beside her.
The passenger sat, dumbstruck, looking outside at all the structural damage that etched almost every surface possible. Images he mentally sent were recieved with the same feelings of surprise, confusion, and apprehension he was feeling. All of which Charlie concurred with. He sent the image of the Universal Gear, imposed with a sword.
It was a good possibility a guardian candidate lived nearby. And the spirit ward too.
Silence answered him; it was the only answer he needed..
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C&C are welcome, and no worries if you wish to remain anonymous now. I was originally planning to have a few chapters of Ranma's happenings before introducing the new characters, but decided otherwise. I plan to flesh out this chapter at a later time, but not in the near future.
Revised Notes: Not all I want to add to the chapter at the moment, I want to rework some of Ranma's scenes later. I just wanted to make the opening the way I originally wanted it to look. And wanted to change the meeting with Kuno. He's not my favorite character to write dialouge for, but deserved a slightly larger scene than a passing mention.
Suggestions are always welcome.
blue-scarf-fics@yahoo.com
By D'Fused
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 chracters are property of Rumiko Takahashi. Any resemblence to other characters or stories, unless specified, are unintentional. So be it.
Chapter 2
Its a Normal Day in the Neighborhood
The morning was the normal type the people of Nerima expected. The sun coming up in the east, with blue skies and white clouds. Most people were getting ready for another day. Housewives making lunches while children went through their morning routines to get ready for school, as did their fathers for the workday. Those who could opened their shops in preparation of business, hoping against hope that trouble would not come their way today. Repair crews and construction companies were busy as usual, trying to make some progress in their long orders of repairs. Soon, many left for work, taking the quickest and safest routes to work which, for some, meant a large detour around certain areas. As the day became older, students started walking thei way towards the various learning facilities, some sooner than others. Some went through their morning routines before making their way to school, some so routine, people would set clocks to it.
As it happened, one of those clock-setting routines revolved around the Tendo Dojo. Several houses and businesses within yelling-distance of the place had their clocks synchronized with an event that happened every school day. Except for those times the faily was away, or recovering from some major event, or any other earth-shaking normal occurance around the area. But, on what could be called normally normal days, one event would - always - happen in the morning. At 8:20 in the morning, pretty much on the dot for several houses, a voice would ring out from the house with a peculiar call.
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"Ranma, we're going to be late!"
A figure took off from the front gate of the dojo, running along the street toward Furikan High School. Immediately following the first figure was a second figure, taller than the first, still chewing on a piece of breakfast.
"Akane, wait up, will y'a?"
The first figure looked back as she ran ahead, frowning at her fiancee as he came out trying to eat his food while putting his backpack on. Giving him a huff, she looked ahead and took off without him, deciding he can be late instead of waiting for him.
Ranma was still trying to do three things at once, namely running, eating and thinking of telling Akane how uncute a tomboy she was. He had ran out the front door and around the corner before he realised he forgot his lunch. Grimacing, he turned and jumped over the wall back into the yard. As he landed, he saw the eldest Tendo daughter smiling in front of him as she held out the lunch.
"Here you go, Ranma. You almost forgot this," Kasumi said, holding out the bento for him.
"Thanks Kasumi."
Kasumi watched as Ranma took the box from her and jumped back onto and over the wall before going to class. She smiled as she returned to the kitchen, thinking on how polite Ranma always was to her.
"Oh Ranma..."
Ranma took the box and jumped over the wall again, then started running toward the school, deciding to forgo running on the fence since he needed to get to school in a hurry. As he got closer to the school, he could hear the first class bell start to ring. Shifting into high gear, Ranma took the next corner at top speed, jumped and rolled as the gates to the school started to close. Without breaking momentum, Ranma got to his feet and started running up the walkway.
In front, Tatewaki Kuno waited for his hateful rival for Akane's attention as he did many mornings. As the pig-tailed student regained his feet, Kuno swept his bokken in an arc towards his opponent.
"The revenge of heaven shall be felt today, my accursed adversary. Prepare yourself! I. Tatewaki Kuno, shall smite you with my blade."
Ranma's only response was a kick to the kendoist's head, which stopped Kuno promptly. "Sorry, Kuno. Not now. I'm going to be late."
In his typical fashion, Ranma brought his foot down and jumped onto his oppenent's head, using the momentum to spring-board onto the second-story balcony. Sparing a second to change trajectory, Ranma jumped a second time up to his classroom, landing smoothly inside, narrowing beating the bell as everyone started to sit down. While everyone was impressed by his sense of timing, they didn't think it anything unusual since they had witnessed odder things in the mornings.
"Why did you leave me back at home Akane?" Ranma asked as he took his seat beside her.
"You jerk, I would've been late if I had waited for you," she resonded.
"Well, excuse me, but you could have gotten me up on time."
"And who's fault is that?"
Both glared at each other from their desks, ignoring the teacher to the point where he threw his piece of chalk at Ranma. Ranma's head recoiled back at it contacted, making him and his fiannce look forward.
"Both of you, into the hallway," the teacher informed the students now paying attention.
The two students got up and obediantly moved outside the class, grabbing pails out of the supply closet and filling them up with water
before standing outside the classroom. Each glared at the other as they stood beside each other, turning away and silently blaming each other for being out there. Neither said anything for a few minutes until Ranma muttered something under his breath. Akane turned to her prospective husband, wanting to be sure she heard right.
"What did you just say?" the short-haired Tendo asked.
"I said 'Uncute tomboy'."
Ranma should have expected her not to take a remark like that lightly. Akane's response to his comment was the fourth option on the 'Ranma Response Counter' to choose from, since it was handy at the moment: Instant-Female, just add water.
Ranma soggedly walked down the hallways, trying to silently make her way to the bathroom and change back without anyone seeing her.
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At lunch, Akane chose to sit with Yuki and Sakuri, doing her best to ignore Ranma. On his part, he ignored her as well, sitting across the room with his friends as they gave the martial artist the third degree. Hiroshi looked at his friend in amusement.
"How do you two do it almost everyday?" he asked.
"Yeah," Daisuke said as he looked sideways towards the girls. "You two go at each throats almost daily it seems, and neither seem to tire of it."
"Aw, its none of yor business," Ranma replied. "I don't plan to let her do this to me all the time."
His two friends looked at each other in amazement. Thir friend, one of the most powerful martial artist they have ever known, was weird in some ways, both thought alomst simutaneously. Neither thought to mention how he and Akane almost never agreed on anything, and the relationship the two had were more along lines of full-scale war, with one side taking all the damage. And yet he planned to stop this one day.
"Uh, Ranma?" said Hiroshi.
"What do you mean by that?" finished Daisuke.
Ranma looked up at the two, finishing off the remainder of Kasumi's lunch. "Huh?"
"You just said you plan to stop her from hitting you..."
"...but you refuse to hit girls, so how...?"
Ranma blinked a few times before realising what he had said. "Well...I...that is...me and Akane..."
"Yes?"
"We're listening, Ranma."
"Well...I just thought...that..." Ranma began.
"That you would...what?" Daisuke asked.
Finally Ranma had enough. He got to his feet, angry that his two friends would prod him for answers. "Jeez, would you leave it alone? I have no intentions of being with a macho chick like her..."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"
Ranma cringed and slowly turned around to the vision of a flickering blue aura surrounding a certain fiancee across the room from him and getting closer. Akane was stalking towards him, murder clearly written across her face, and Ranma knew he was in trouble.
"Akane, please, let me explain..."
"You..." Akane muttered as she stepped closer. "You..." As Ranma backed up to the window, Akane started to move her fist back, choosing Option #2 in her 'Ranma Response Counter' list.
"You insensitive JERK!"
Daisuke and Hiroshi watched as Ranma became on the recieving end of the Low Orbit Punch Akane had the patent to. Both boys sighed as they watched Ranma create a new skylight as he became a blur in the sky.
"...Don't plan to do this all the time, he says..."
"... Not any time soon, I think..."
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Ranma tracked his bearing and speed, knowing the basic area that he would be landing as he started to fall from his afternoon flight. He saw that the landing site would be near the Tendo dojo as he fell back towards the ground. In fact, he thought, it would drop him just inside the walls, verging near the pond. As he came closer to the ground, Ranma realised that, with his luck, most likely he would...
*SPLASH!*
A wet female Ranma slowly made her way out of the pond, shaking as much water as she could of her body before stepping inside. The last thing she wanted to do was get the house wet, especially since Kasumi probably spent the morning cleaning the house. She ran her hands down her hair, straining the water as best she could before doing the same with her Chinese shirt. After doing the best she could, she turned towards the house, to see Kasumi standing just outside the house, towel in her hand.
"Oh my," Kasumi said, handing the towel to the wet teen, "Did you get into trouble at school, Ranma?"
"Nah, just sent home early."
Kasumi smiled, understanding almost immediately the cause of the trip she just had. She waited for Ranma to finish drying herself as best as possible, then turning back to the kitchen, said "Don't worry about school, Ranma. Everyone will be returning pretty soon, so you can go have a bath before supper."
"Thanks Kasumi."
-----------------------
Ranma watched as she went back into the house, carryingf the wet towel with her. She has always been so kind to me, she thought, entering the house, grabbing dry clothing before opening the bathroom doors.
After stripping off her wet clothes and splashing a pail of cold water over herself, she entered the furo, intent on relaxing. Thoughts of what to do about a certain troublesome fiancee (alright they are all troubling, but you can only say uncute tomboy so many times) were soon replaced by a calming sense, one could almost call serene, of good will, affection and endless devotion. As these emotions slowly wrapped around the body soaking in the water, something seemed to rest inside, a wall or a barrier of sorts that had refused to yield until this moment.
Gently smiling while closing his eyes, Ranma slowly started to settle more comfortable into the water, trying to grasp what he was feeling in his mind. Within the vison of his closed eyes, he searched for this change that occurred within, a difference in his person between this and the last moment. Slowly, a small light appeared, infitestimal in the sea of black yet undeniable in its existance. As Ranma concentrated on this light, it quivered, not moving from its position, but changing, rotating at a high speed and growing, only minisculy compared to the black around it. Something that seemed distant, but was coming closer. Something that was right, he mentally thought, which only seemed to enfuel the light to quiver and rotate faster as it came...
Ranma's eyes opened with a sudden quickness as he heard his name yelled out from beyond the bathroom doors. Gone were the serene feelings, as did the light when Ranma closed his eyes and tried to find whatever it was that he had seen while relaxed. Gone also was most of the heat in the water, which meant he had to get out soon, or else he had taken a bath for nothing. Sighing, he moved to get out and put on clothes before anything else happened.
---------------------
A plane at the Tokyo International Airport smoothly touched down on the runway, coming to a stop before moving towards the disembarkment area. After all was checked to be safe, the hatch opened, allowing the attendants to send passengers out into the walkway and into the airport.
As were usual of any flight, the passengers could be split into two groups: residents and foreigners. Residents were mostly of Japanese bearing, be them businessmen, families on vacation, or students who were learning at education facilities outside their homeland. Not many distinctions could be made between these passengers and other countrymen, if one discluded that they had gone away from home and have returned, if for the moment.
The foreigners were more distinct in the crowd, since they were foriegners, of course. They ranged from caucasions, pale compared to the darker tinges of those who can claim African or Indian backgrounds, although not many of either dotted the crowd at the moment. Each of these foreigners seemed to stand out as they moved, to be admired from afar or to cautious about, depending on the person. Everyone seemed to have something that was truly unique about them, from the Irish red hair one vacationing family sported, to the tall businessman by himself, walking quickly towards the exit, to the one man wearing the odd-shaped hat, walking slower than most, but made up the lack of speed with a set direction and determination on his face. And, like a kid easily distracted by another interesting toy, the foreigners were vaguely remembered as a new one entered the line of sight, another marvel to gaze at.
Some of those exiting the plane were not much better. For some, the exciting wonder at being outside one's country and out into unmarked territory tended to make many act like a child in front of the candy store. Many stared at strange people and at strange items and watched strange customs which made no sense to them, yet was a part of everyday life here. Those who had visited before acted a little more sensible, ranging from only gawking occasionally to ignoring all and moving purposely.
But, like all passengers the world over, there was a purpose behind their flight, be it pleasure or business. Soon, after the few who were waiting for another flight filtered out of the crowd, the main body started making their way in a steady stream out into the customs area, picking up their luggage along the way. Moving toward the respective arrival and return lines, everyone waited patiently as the custom workers checked the personal belongings and asking a few questions before moving on to the next person.
Among those passengers in the arrival line, one certain man looked around at the airport, watching the crowded walkways and seats of businessmen and families on vacation. Despite the crowds and noise, he could still pick out those who were interested in him. His knowledge of the Japanese language was only mildly accented, which allowed him to listen to conversations many thought he wouldn't understand completely. He smiled back at one girl he judged at about twenty-five or so when she shyly smiled at him, then winked at her, which produced a small blush on her face. He watched her move away from him, turning forward and moving with the flow of the line, adjusting his fedora. He was told it gave him less of a cocky and devil-may-care look to him, and that was one less thing he would want to impress the custom agents with.
A feeling of vanity came from his senses in the back of his mind, followed by a mixture of resentment and anger. He mentally sighed, wishing that he didn't have to feel those emotions for the last couple days. It had been bad that he had felt those feelings between the meeting and when he left, but they had remained there through the long flight across the Pacific, making a tedious and very boring journey worse. He knew why he had to go alone, since it had been explained to him during the meeting. Worse was she knew that as well, and she had insisted that she should go. It took a few hours of discussion before she conceded the reasoning behind the decision, but she put the blame solely on him, since she couldn't argue with who gave the orders. And that she could make him suffer in private as well.
A mischievious smile came to his lips as he made an image partly appear in his mind, but quickly covered it before it had formed enough to be comprehensible. The emotions of anger and resentment started to include curiosity as he mentally kept away from thinking of the image he had, wanting to build the suspense before uncovering it. Slowly, curiosity became dominant of the emotions, slowly choking everything else out until the one emotion remained. Finally, he let the image show, one of him sitting on a chair with a certain girl over his lap. He replaced the picture with one of him spanking the girl's butt, changing it with the first image and repeating the two images for a couple seconds.
The response was predictable. Suprise, then apprehension at the thought, then determination. Obviously that last was a dare to see him actually try such a thing. After a few seconds, frustration turning slowly to understandment and apologetic.
Apology accepted, he thought. He sent the image of him shrugging off something, then with him smiling to get the message across. The returning emotions was still apolegetic, quickly turning back to resentment and anger, but not as strong as before.
He understood why she would be feeling those emotions. He held the image of a woman slightly smaller than himself, with short brown hair and blue eyes, imposed over a rough picture of Japan. The response was agreement, and acceptance that neither had anything to do with it.
"Um excuse me, sir..." a man said in Japanese.
The man focused back to the person in front of him, blinking his eyes as he realised he was next in line. Quickly he sent the image on him at the front of a line of people as he moved forward, hauling his stuff with him. No response answered, letting him concentrate on the matter at hand.
May I see your passport the customs worker asked in English, making sure the passenger could understand him.
"Don't worry, we can talk in Japanese." the man said, moving a hand into an inside pocket and pulling out his passport.
Taking the identification from the foreigner, the woker looked through the file of the guy, comparing the picture to the person in front of him. Both had the same clear-cut feature, brown eyes and brown hair, albeit the man in question's hair was noticebly longer than the one in the photo; otherwise, the facial features were the same.
Still, he had to go through the motions of confirming the guys's info.
"Name, sir?"
"Charles Douglas Frepp, but everyone calls me Charlie." said the fedora-wearing man.
"Age?"
"28," Charlie promptly replied.
"Length of stay?"
Charlie smiled. "For several weeks."
"Reason for stay in Japan?"
"Well, I am on vacation for the first few weeks, but I will be talking to the History Club at Tokyo U about 16th century weaponry before my scheduled return," Charlie said, drawing out two folded pieces of paper, ready to hand it to the customs agent. "I also have with me a replica of an English Epee and matching sheathe with me, to show the class an example of the difference between Western and Oriental weapons." He pointed to a wooden case on top of his suitcase with his free hand. "I have the ownership papers here if you need to look at them."
The customs agent took the papers and opened them, reading the ownership permit and the invitation to Todai. Then, after thinking they looked legitemite, the wooden case was unlocked and opened to confirm the claim, as well to check for anything else.
Inside, true enough, was an Western sword sitting in the middle of the case, the metal hilt and cross-guards polished to a shine while protected in styrofoam casing. The black sheathe was also gleaming, although it seemed a little more worse for wear, but the customs agent didn't think anything of this, since the guy probably displayed it outside its casing for eager students and such. After a few minutes of checking the rest of the man's luggage, Charlie was led to a room where he could wait for confirmation of the permit and invitation. Charlie just smiled and stated nothing wrong with it, saying that he had done this enough times to understand.
When the agent went away to make the callls, Charlie relaxed a little. He wasn't worried about the permit of invitation; they were both real, No, he had worried that they would ask him to unsheathe the sword to confirm that it was an item for display only.
Charlie chuckled at the thought. Thinking how the man would react if he knew he had seen an actual, servicable sword in this age made him quietly laugh.
He felt the slight annoyance in his head, which almost made him laugh harder. As he continued to laugh, the annoyance became stronger, only diminishing after he stopped chuckling. It was replaced by anxiousness and concern.
Of course, he thought to himself, she would be worried about him after having done this for years, traveling with a weapon close to hand. He knew that the permit was legit, since he did own it and displayed it often to people, although not always to those who were wanting to see it. And the invitation was real. Certain favors had been called in to make it possible, but it gave him a reason to be in Tokyo for a few days.
Projecting pictures of the permit, drawing the sword, the invitation, and memories of times when the two of them had done this in other airports, he gave the idea that all was fine. Nothing would be different this time either.
The feeling he recieved in return was doubt, mixed slightly with fear. She didn't have as much confidence as he did that he would get away with it.
-----------------------
Charlie smiled again as he walked out of the airport, hauling his luggage and wooden case on a stroller behind him. As he predicted, he had made it by customs without a problem. The papers were technically legit; the sword was a replica of the old epees, but one that was made to be used, not just for show. If he drew the weapon an inch or two out of its sheathe, the usual gloss on a display-only weapon would have made any suspisions of it being display-only would be gone, and he knew it wouldn't something simple to cover.
His invitation to make a show of the weapon was also true. He did, in fact, plan to spend a day at the university to show the weapon off to students. Those who made the arrangements for him to be in Japan saw the solution the best way to cover why he would bring a weapon across the ocean in a plane, where it was impossible to hide the weapon somewhere, or bribe certain people to keep quiet on the subject.
The feeling of relief came from the back of his mind, mixed slightly wiith anger. Charlie smiled as he translated the emotions; she was glad he was through the danger, but wished he hadn't been right.
Still smiling outwardly, he sent the image of himself seen in the window reflection beside him. He made sure that she understood through the image that he was highly sure nothing could go wrong anytime soon. After all, he wasn't defenseless or in a bad sitution. Not waiting for a reasponse, he found a cab, loaded his stuff into the trunk, and got in the back. All he said to the driver was "Take me to a good hotel in Nerima, please."
Charlie swore the man winced when the word 'Nerima' came up.
-----------------------
Near the business section of Nerima, one ramen shop, locally owned and operated, once again felt the burden that comes with living in an area with highly odd characters living near-by.
Within a few moments of entering the shop, Happosai leaped outside after finishing off several bowls near hand inside while dodging flying objects thrown by the proprietor. As he yelled where to send the bill to (the Tendo dojo, compliments of Ranma Satome, of course), he decided that it was time to go home for supper. He stilled carried the bag of underwear with him, enough of a haul to last him the day, at least. Taking off towards the training hall, the old man ran as if a crowd of girls were chasing him at the moment, a statement that was only partially true.
Before he knew it, a hand grabbed the bag he was carrying, picking him up in the process. The grandmaster of the Anything Goes School turned to see a hectic female Ranma, running at full speed, clearly upset by something. Blinking, the old man turned a little more to see Akane running behind them, wooden hammer in hand and murder in her eyes, followed by the regular crowd that seemed to follow the two wherever they went.
The old man turned back to Ranma, dissapointment clearly in his eyes. "Ranma," he said, "look at yourself. If I were you and had all these pretty ladies chasing after me, I wouldn't be running away."
Ranma lifted the old man up higher so she could talk to him at eye level. "And who do you think is responsible for this fiasco?" Without waiting a response, she gave Happosai a quick punt into the air, which opened the blanket with all the beauties he had 'freed' that day.
"My prettiiiiieeeeeeessssssss!" the voice dragged as he launched into the air.
Ranma sighed as he saw the freak become a point in the sky. Why can't nothing happen to him for once?
-----------------------
Charlie didn't know what was wrong with the taxi driver after they had enetered the Nerima ward. After asking for a place to stay in the specified region, they had made good time on his accounts, compared to how traffic was moving and the difficulty of the Japanese-equivalent of rush hour. But, as soon as he came within a few minutes of the area he was wanting to go, the driver had slowed down substantially, and acted as if something would destroy him, his occupant and his car within seconds, with the chance of taking everything within a five block radius as well. The one time he had asked said something during their trip, mainly to ask what war they were fighting out here, the man had reacted by hitting the gas and speedng through several residential blocks before he had realised what had happened before he resumed his slow pace.
He frowned, wondering what was so bad that the man was frightened just by being in this area. Out of more boredom than anything else, Charlie took a look outside, watching the buildings go by, seeing them without actually seeing mute evidence of the thing the driver feared. As he looked out the vehicle, sending several images of what he had witnessed of the driver's reactions while they had traveled, balantly forgetting to screen out the actual images of the buildings themselves as he conversed mentally. Slowly, confusion and wonder replaced any other emotion he felt in the back of his mind, something that made him become more alert at what he was sending. Mentally hitting himself for his error, Charlie quickly filtered the buildings he was physically seeing with his eyes, then resent the images of the driver.
The returning emotions was crisp understandment, but mingled with confusion and curiosity, but not directed at the previous image.
Wondering what that could be about, Charlie outwardly focused, meaning to puzzle out what the received feelings were meaning. As he looked outside the vehicle, a reason came to him. Another image of the surrounding area confirmed it; this is what she was wanting to know.
The Nerima area alomst seemed like a war zone indeed! Uncountable holes seemed to dot places in walls, trees and telephone poles that have had better days. Near one building, several cuts were, by Charlie's trained eye, made by horizontal cuts of a sword-like weapon, while the pock-marks of a near-by statue indicated a multiple thrust technique by a similar, if not the same, weapon. That, or maybe bullet-holes, judging from several craters which he could only see grenades creating. Many houses and business had the look of patch jobs or were closed, if at all occupied, for badly-needed repairs.
What made everything worse was that local residents didn't seem to take particular notice to these problems, as if these were almost a daily happening. One couple, talking as they traveled down the walkay, unconsciouly walked around a small hole in the ground, never missing a step or word as the cautiously moved around as they continued down the street, and an old lady was flinging water out on a street, seemingly oblivious of the crack running across the wooden door behind her or the bent metal sign beside her.
The passenger sat, dumbstruck, looking outside at all the structural damage that etched almost every surface possible. Images he mentally sent were recieved with the same feelings of surprise, confusion, and apprehension he was feeling. All of which Charlie concurred with. He sent the image of the Universal Gear, imposed with a sword.
It was a good possibility a guardian candidate lived nearby. And the spirit ward too.
Silence answered him; it was the only answer he needed..
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C&C are welcome, and no worries if you wish to remain anonymous now. I was originally planning to have a few chapters of Ranma's happenings before introducing the new characters, but decided otherwise. I plan to flesh out this chapter at a later time, but not in the near future.
Revised Notes: Not all I want to add to the chapter at the moment, I want to rework some of Ranma's scenes later. I just wanted to make the opening the way I originally wanted it to look. And wanted to change the meeting with Kuno. He's not my favorite character to write dialouge for, but deserved a slightly larger scene than a passing mention.
Suggestions are always welcome.
blue-scarf-fics@yahoo.com