"Ware wa Seigi no KUKKU!!!
A Fanfic by Jemu Nekketsu
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Nadesico. I wish I did, though.
PROLOGUE
The owner of Prince of Ramen noodle house was asleep on his futon, dreaming of sold out days and pretty customers. He was sleeping in the living quarters above the restaurant, which had been in his family's possession for an untold number of generations.
He stirred in his sleep, muttering something like, "So, pretty lady, how do you like your noodles?" He smiled lecherously, no doubt enjoying this particular dream, when a loud crashing din cut through his sleepy haze and rudely sent him back to reality.
"What in the world?" the old man wondered, rubbing his eyes. He reached for a robe, tying the sash tight, and with his feet felt around for his slippers. After getting into them, he stood, made his way toward the door, not bothering to turn on the light.
He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, its numbers glowing green in the gloom. It was some time past two, closer to three o' clock, truth be told. He went down the stairs and headed for the kitchen area. It was here that the turned the light on. His eyes sought out the knife block, and his feet took him to it.
He pulled free a cleaver, feeling its weight in his hand. There was little heavy cutting and chopping to be done in a noodle house, but the old man believed in being prepared for all eventualities. "It looks like I might have a use for this after all," he whispered to himself. Holding the heavy knife in one hand, a flashlight from one of the cupboards in the other, he stepped out the back door to investigate.
The sound had long since faded into the wee hours – what accompanied it hadn't. The old man saw, with the light of the flashlight, that the metal garbage cans had been upturned. The contents of the biodegradable bin, thankfully, were wrapped tightly in a black plastic bag. On the other hand, the recyclables were strewn about near the tipped-over container.
"Darn blasted cats and dogs," the old man muttered. He sighed, deciding to start the day after he had cleaned up. He began to set the biodegradable waste bin upright, when he caught sight of something that didn't belong there.
It was a length of cord, probably a pendant, sans any decorative hanging, clutched in a human hand. The hand was still connected to a human forearm, which was connected to – murky darkness.
The old man aimed his flashlight at the gloom behind the waste can. And he gasped, "What's a young man doing here, this time of the day? And more to the point, where did he come from?" There was no doubt in his mind that the still unconscious man at his feet was the cause of the commotion he had heard earlier – and that the answers to his other questions.
Making a decision, he slipped the flashlight into his belt, then, with a strength and flexibility surprising in a man of his advanced years, he bent and hoisted the younger man onto one shoulder and headed inside.
It must be said at this point that the old man had lived alone in his restaurant for years, without anyone with him. A needy, old man - who knows what nefarious plans he had in store for the young man he had brought into his home?
Some months later…
It seems karma really existed, after all.
The old man lay in bed, alternately coughing and cursing his illness. By his bedside, a spiky-haired young man with brown hair looked at his withered form with worry in his eyes, a tray bearing a bowl and chopsticks in his hands.
"S- Shishou…" the young man's eyes gleamed with unshed tears.
"Akito… cough my time is near, Akito…"
"Shishou! Don't say such things! You still have a lot to teach me!"
"Akito… I shall be taken soon to my ancestors' realm… I shall face them with shame, having not done my duty to see that the restaurant, which was our inheritance for so many generations, cough should survive another generation… A punishment, I suppose, for the way I have taken advantage of you ever since I brought you here. The Prince of Ramen shall pass away to nothingness at the same time that I do."
"Taken advantage? No way, shishou! I begged to learn! I saw how your food brought smiles to tired faces, how it brightened up dreary days! I wanted to learn how to do that, too!"
"And then what? After learning all that I could impart, you would leave and set up a ramen shop of your own?"
"No! I wouldn't dream of it!"
cough, cough "
"No! It's the truth! See here? I even tried my hand at making the house special bowl! Please, shishou, taste it! Maybe it will bring you back to life!"
"Foolish pup! I know my time is upon me! But if you're that intent on having me have a last meal before I die, fine! Bring it!"
Akito knelt down near the bed, setting the tray on the floor as he helped the old man sit up. Having done that, he transferred the tray to his master's lap. And he waited.
The old man sniffed at the steam rising from the bowl. "Well, at least it smells right. But the smell is just one aspect of truly great ramen cough, cough !"
Then he lifted the bowl, and took a sip. He frowned, and picking up the chopsticks, he took a mouthful of noodles and chewed. Suddenly, he went still. He put his chopsticks down, smothered his cough with a hand, and sighed. Akito just waited in suspense.
"Three more years under me, and you would have gotten it perfect. But I don't have three years cough, cough . I might not even have three hours. Besides, there are people who need more than three years, and they're already running their own restaurants. So listen well, boy: I have decided to leave this place to you."
"Shishou-!"
"I haven't finished! Go to the chest in the corner; there's a box tied with string inside. I want you to bring the box out here."
Akito did as he was told. Upon bringing the box to his teacher, the old man undid the string, and took out a legal document. He wrote Akito's name on a blank, and signed his own name on another. "There. It is done. The place, the responsibility, the debts, and perhaps what dubious honor and fortune might come is now all yours."
Next, he gingerly took out a hardbound tome from the box. "The recipe you just followed to create this bowl of noodles, as well as other secrets, is contained in this volume. But it is not enough to follow the recipes in this book to the letter – you must make them your own, by adding your own innovations and improvements. It has been passed on thus from one master of this restaurant to his successor. Take it, and take care of it."
Akito accepted the tome with quivering hands. "Shishou, I- I'll take care of it as you did."
The old man smiled, closing his eyes and leaning back to rest his head on the pillow. "Had I a son, I would have wanted him to be just like you – except that he would have the tendency to act more forward towards women."
And with that, Akito's mentor breathed his last.
"S- SHISHOU!!!"
The old man died not long after that. After a funeral that was attended by only a handful of well-meaning neighbors, Akito retreated into his room, trying to come to grips with the old man's death. It was during this period that the Terran-Jovian war broke out, and he was conscripted, as were the other young, unattached men and women in his block. The banners and recruiters said it was their duty to go off into space and destroy the alien enemy. Akito didn't care – at the moment, he'd have taken a ticket to hell itself just to get away from the place that seemed, all of a sudden, too much for him.
Akito waited impatiently for the Nadesico to sail into port. He couldn't get away from the warship fast enough. For various reasons.
"So, Tenkawa, how does it feel to be back on Earth?"
One of those reasons had just walked up behind him and slapped him on his back. Akito winced, and turned to look at which one of his fellow pilots gave him one on the back. "Even though I'm Martian-born, I still feel like I'm coming home. Really coming home."
"Mmm-hmm. I wonder if she feels the same way."
"Huh? Who are you talking about, Gai?"
Daigouji Gai threw his arms wide. "Who else on this ship wears a short skirt, a tight jacket, has shown pointed interest towards you even someone as insensitive as I could see, and is also born on Mars? Not to mention someone you know from childhood."
"I wouldn't know, Gai. I didn't ask, and I never would dare ask her."
"Tsk, tsk. What a waste. Really, Tenkawa. I thought someone who had as much passion for old school anime such as you would have more guts to ask a simple question to a girl who has the hots for him. I'm sure Daigouji agrees with me."
Gai and Akito turned to face the newcomer. "That's what I think too, Nagare-san."
All three men had been drafted to fight the menace known to the world as the Jovian Lizards. It had been five years of hard fighting, and a lot of secrets had been revealed, some of them surprising, others just plain shocking.
Like the Jovians weren't really lizards, but they were actually a splinter part of the human population ostracized for political reasons.
Or that Nagare Akatsuki, known to his fellow pilots as 'Long Hair', was actually the president of NERGAL, the company who had commissioned the construction of the Nadesico.
Or that the assistant operator, Erina, was the NERGAL president's sex- er, secretary.
Or that Daigouji Gai was a Jovian sleeper agent left on Earth, which explained his Gekiganger obsession, often associated with Jovian males. In the end though, his obsession to remain true to the ideals of Gekiganger (friendship, justice, and a burning way of life) played against the Jovians and made him stay with his friends.
Megumi Reinard, the ship's communication officer, announced over the PA, "We'll drop anchor, so to speak, in five minutes. Everyone is invited to stay for the farewell party. This is Meg-chan, signing off for the last time. See you all later!"
It was the longest five minutes in Akito's whole life.
The party was great, but still Akito couldn't wait to get away from it. He was uncomfortable in some way, whenever Captain Yurika Misumaru, Megumi, or fellow pilot Ryoko Subaru was in the vicinity. It must have been the time they tried to make him taste their ideas of 'home-cooked' meals, he thought. The dishes the food had been placed in had to be decontaminated, as was the kitchen after they were done with it. Jun Aoi, a bridge officer, was even sent to the infirmary after trying just a bit of Captain Misumaru's creation. As for Erina's efforts – Akito shook his head. She had better stick to being Akatsuki's personal sex- uh, secretary.
He felt a burning urge to see the restaurant, and after making his excuses and goodbyes, took a bus and headed for the working district. He couldn't wait anymore.
It was dark when he reached the block where his restaurant and home was, but even the gloom could not prevent him from realizing that something was wrong with his place. Maybe it was the way the old-fashioned metal padlock and chains glinted in the faint light of the street lamps.
Taking a deep breath, Akito willed himself to relax, and slowly proceeded to extend his awareness to probe the inside of the building. Square foot by square foot, he let his senses roam, as he had learned to do so after reading it in the scribbled notes inside the book his master had left him.
The notes, written in his master's nearly illegible scrawl, claimed that this was a good way to find out whether the broth was just done or perfect, without having to taste the liquid directly. It also made for an efficient listing tool – without opening cupboards and drawers, he could tell which items were there.
Akito liked to think he had gone one step beyond what his master had done with this strange ability – he could tell, for example, whether someone was waiting in the next corner, whether it was a he or a she, if said person was in good health, hungry, tired, depressed – all that, without even seeing the person, at a distance of forty feet. It was very useful in gaining information during the time Akito went against orders and single-handedly rescued Gai where he was being held by the Jovians after being captured and tried as a traitor.
"Leave me be, Tenkawa. Can't you see, I'm an enemy? I'm a heartless Jovian Lizard. I betrayed my comrades, my friends," Gai had spoken to him after Akito had boson jumped into the cell.
"Do you really believe I'd believe all those Jovian lies about my friend, who also happens to be a Gekiganger fanatic?" Akito asked, smiling as he worked on the inhibitor cuffs with his tools.
"Friend?" Gai asked back, stunned.
"Yes, Gai, friend. Let those Jovian bastards try and execute Jiroh Yamada. As far as I'm concerned, I'm breaking out my buddy, hotshot pilot Gai Daigouji. Just gimme some time, okay?"
Soon, the inhibitor cuffs, so called because they cancelled boson jumping - and if it was to be believed other faculties - in the person they were attached to, were lying on the floor. Gai rubbed his arms, letting the circulation restore itself, as Akito placed his kit back into his pack. After a moment's hesitation, he stuffed the inhibitors in a canister, and stowed it away as well.
"What are you planning to do with that inhibitor?" Gai asked.
"I think I'll let Dr. Fress-" Akito never finished his sentence, as the cell door suddenly burst inward and he was shoving both of their selves away from the spray of automatic fire from a pair of Jovian guards standing in the doorway. He had sensed their presence almost too late – they must have been very highly trained, with great self-discipline.
"Kisama!" Gai bit out as a slug got him.
"Gai! Hang on!" Akito cried. Quickly priming a proximity grenade, he hurled it at the door, and taking Gai's hand, began to mentally produce an image of the infirmary aboard the Nadesico, but quickly amended it to an image of Dr. Ines Fresanjeu.
"We're getting out of here now!" Akito shouted.
Thanks to his efforts, Gai received medical aid in time. "I've stopped the bleeding," Ines announced, "But unless he replaces all the blood he's lost, we might still lose him." Motioning to Akito and Akatsuki to carry the unconscious Gai to the infirmary, she added, "Alright, everyone, I want your blood – assuming you're compatible with his type."
"I don't think he's my type – I don't even type that well," Izumi quipped in her usual deadpan voice.
"We'll see, Pilot Maki. We'll all see later."
It turned out later that it was only Hikaru Amano that could give blood to Gai, what with everyone else's blood being riddled with various antigens or with certain vaccine antibodies that made them unsuitable donors.
"Well, Hikaru, it looks like you're it," a relieved Ryoko informed her friend. "V!"
"You make it sound like I'm going off to battle," Hikaru complained.
"What does one use this for, I wonder," said Izumi, holding up a long syringe needle.
Akito, who was sitting by Gai's bedside, looked up, saw the needle, and blanched. Hikaru did the same and fainted dead away.
"Okay, is everybody ready? Huh?" Ines stopped, looking at Hikaru. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's just put herself in a deep trance. Nothing to worry about," Ryoko blurted out.
Those very same senses told him that someone, no, two someones had taken residence in his home while he was away. Female, he thought. Males felt different, he couldn't explain it in words, but they felt infinitely different from females. He had tried it one time with the Nadesico crew – they played musical Aesties, with the three women and Gai hiding in the cockpits of the five standard Aesties, as Akatsuki's pilot pit hatch refused to cooperate. He had his back turned as they took their choices. All five times, he had picked out the one where Gai was hiding in.
The intruders were most definitely female, Akito decided. Not athletically-oriented, but not sickly, indicating a lack of extensive physical development caused by avoiding physical games, or perhaps they were just young. Maybe both, Akito thought, could be a couple of female urchins. But how did they get past the padlock, and the security system he'd had installed as well before leaving for the war? That was what he wanted to know. Grimly, he made his toward the door, noting curiously that the alarm was active and armed. Whoever had taken residence had disabled the alarm, let themselves in, and reset it.
"I'm dealing with a couple of pint-sized female thieves, it seems. Shishou must be twisting in his grave now, lamenting with his honored ancestors how their shrine has been desecrated." He grinned, entering the key that would let him in. His grin faded soon enough.
"Incorrect entry code. You have two tries remaining. On your third false code entry, the nearest police station will be alerted of your attempt," a digitized voice informed him.
"Crap! They changed the codes too?!" Akito thought wildly. "That's it!" Concentrating, he readied himself for shock action. Coaxing his body to secrete adrenalin into his bloodstream – another trick learned from his master's book that the old man had used to counter tiredness during heavy hours – he did some warm-up kicks and test punches. He then focused on the image of his bedroom, outlining in detail his bed, a true bed, not a futon, and blinked.
From the rooftop of a nearby building, a dark figure rose to his feet. That brief flash of light after which the spiky-haired young man could no longer be seen – it was a boson jump. It also made things a lot more complicated for them – but no matter. Their leader would see it as a challenge, and as such, would find a way to surmount it. He struck his staff on the cement, and vanished in the same way as their quarry did.
The dark bedroom blazed white, and as the glow faded Akito made out his two temporary tenants. He had the impression of thin, wiry limbs, large, frightened eyes, and long, waist-length hair. The last observation struck him as odd. In his idea of street-bound waifs, they all had short, unruly hair. What he saw was hair that looked like it had been taken care of well. Belatedly he remembered that he had purchased shampoo and soap by the bulk, before leaving for the war.
"Good evening, girls. How did you find my place?" Adjusting his eyes to the gloom, he kept watch on his two guests, and backed until his hand felt the light switch. He flipped it on, and smiled grimly as two pairs of gold eyes struggled to bring him into focus. He could tell that they were frightened, but the taller one – the one with pale lilac hair, and perhaps the older – she looked like she was looking for an opportunity to bolt with her companion.
He took a step toward them holding his arms out, palms exposed, in a gesture that supposedly indicated he was unarmed and didn't intend anyone any harm – yet. What everyone didn't know was that particular stance was actually the beginning stance of a martial arts kata series, which Akito's late master had called the Way of the Wok.
The taller girl – Akito hazarded her age to be around 17, and the younger one he pegged from 10 to 12 – pulled her companion toward her and took two steps back, glancing at the window behind her, which he noted was unlatched for a quick getaway. "I sure hope you aren't thinking of jumping down – that window's 4 meters above the road. You could break your neck easily."
"I'll take my chances, thank you very much," the lilac-haired girl replied.
Akito was surprised. She didn't sound like a street urchin – not that he spent time talking to street urchins. Still, the way she said her words reminded him of a movie he once saw. The way she spoke was the way a princess spoke – how the princess in the movie spoke. It was cool, and chillingly polite. "That is your prerogative, princess, but will you take chances with your sister's neck as well?"
The taller girl stopped short. Akito wondered whether it was at being called a princess – surely she was too young to understand sarcasm – or the reminder that she had a companion that gave her pause. Then the smaller girl spoke up.
"I'm sorry, Ruri-san. I've been a burden, and this is my entire fault."
"Baka. None of this is your fault, Lapis."
Akito gave her a quick once-over. She barely topped his chest, with pink hair falling to her waist, and the identical eerie golden gaze of her companion. Her voice was also eerie - it was the voice of someone who knew how to speak but often chose not to do so often. He reasoned that it was because she had not yet hit puberty, but still, her voice was rather low, as if she was always whispering in a place that prohibited conversation.
"So, you're Ruri, and you're Lapis," Akito said, pointing to each in turn and nodding to himself. In that moment of inattention, Ruri darted to the window and threw it open, and without looking back, flung an arm out to grab Lapis and pull her after her.
Only to encounter solid male flesh instead of that of a frail young girl. Ruri's eyes went wide, and she risked a backward glance. "Lapis."
Akito had both of Lapis' wrists secured in one hand, and was holding Ruri's wrist in the other. "I really must insist that you stop this foolishness of trying to jump out the window. Someone could get hurt- yeow!"
Lapis' shin connected solidly with the apex of Akito's legs, and Ruri used this instant to deliver her own kick to his gut. Horrified and wrenching in acute pain, Akito Tenkawa, war hero from the Nadesico, went down. Still, his grip did not waver, and thus pulled both girls down as well. On top of him, to boot.
"Lapis, try to get free, quick! We're dealing with a sex maniac here! Why didn't that encyclopedia you call your brain contain that vital piece of information?"
"My brain is not an encyclopedia – it just remembers everything it has read, heard, seen – anything I've sensed. I don't even know what a sex maniac is."
"You will! We will, if we don't get away from here quick!"
