Chapter 1: Enter the Demon Lord
Ranma, you jerk! Ranma, you jerk!
Outside the dojo on the expansive lawn of the Tendo house, Akane delivered a harsh roundhouse kick that knocked the straw-stuffed practice dummy off of its perch. The battered target sailed several feet backward onto the grass. As Akane dropped her stance, she let out a satisfied breath. Practicing against the straw opponent was one of her favorite stress relievers – no matter how much frustration had built up within her at the end of a day, a vigorous workout like this one was usually enough to work out all of her aggression.
Today, however, was one of the few times that even pounding on the training dummy couldn't release all of her anger – this afternoon had been a golden opportunity to conquer one of her biggest challenges: being able to swim. For all of her strength, speed, and intensity that outdid even the strongest jocks at her school, Akane had never been able to get out of the shallow end of the swimming pool, and staying above water even then had proven a difficult task at times. In a rare moment of generosity and compassion, her would-be fiancé had promised her a swimming lesson; while Akane felt uncomfortable being indebted to Ranma for anything, she had found herself grateful and even looking forward to spending that time with him, learning from him.
Naturally, Ranma had found a way to screw it up. He always did.
Standing her up at the gym's pool had been one thing, but coming home to find Ranma duking it out with a wayward wrestler had been even more disheartening and enraging at the same time. That she'd actually had faith in Ranma to keep her on his priority list for just this one time made her feel all the more naïve now.
Maybe I should just go give him a piece of my mind…yeah, that might make me feel better.
Wiping away some sweat from her forehead and pushing her short blue hair out of her eyes, she marched purposefully back toward the house where Ranma was probably lounging around, reveling arrogantly in his recent victory…he'd bragged to his father all about how easily he'd obliterated the brash challenger all during dinner. It had been enough to nearly make her smash the dinner table over his head even harder than she usually did.
As she entered through the back door of the house, Akane sighed, her anger degenerating a bit into a sad frustration.
"He can smile all day whenever he's fighting someone, but he can't even say 'good morning' during breakfast…" She grumbled. "Does he really hate me that--"
"Yo, Akane!" A sudden voice from behind her made her yelp in surprise; she instantly whirled and smacked Ranma on the forehead with her fist as her heart raced. Her fiancé stumbled backward, cursing and clutching his forehead with one free hand. "Hey, what the hell was that for! I was just coming around the corner; I didn't know you were standing there!"
That gave Akane a bit of relief – at first, she'd been afraid and embarrassed that he'd overheard her emotional musings. She caught her breath – thankfully, there was no danger of that. The arrogant Ranma would never let her live that humiliation down.
"Sorry, I just got done working out, I'm a little bit tense," She replied as she removed her yellow headband. "Besides, since when do you come looking for me, anyway? You obviously have better things to do with your time than worry about me."
"Any other time, I'd agree with you…" Ranma snorted nonchalantly; that was an open invitation for Akane to angrily snare him by the throat. She was about to clobber him across his idiotic face when Ranma suddenly thrust a shimmering golden jewel in her direction. Akane's eyes shifted onto the object, and her arms loosened. Her fiancé seized the opportunity to break away from her grip.
"Yeesh, you say tense, I say psychotic," The comment slipped out of Ranma's mouth, but Akane found herself too mesmerized by the star-covered jewel in Ranma's hand to notice. The boy relinquished his grip on it, and the girl grabbed hold, examined the relic almost eagerly.
"It's so pretty…" She smiled. "Where in the world did you get this?"
Ranma seemed almost shocked by the attitude shift, and his hostilities froze up into timidity.
"Well, ah, I got it, I mean won it, from that blockhead earlier…you know, I didn't steal it or nothing like you might think…" He forced a small chuckle, and his gaze seemed to drift away from Akane, his eyes focusing behind her. His voice also grew a bit more wooden. "He couldn't pay up the losing end, so he gave that little what's-it to me instead. And since it was my fault that I took the fight instead of my beautiful fiancé…"
If ever there was a strange comment coming from Ranma, that one was it. Akane's eyes snapped away from the jewel and toward her fiancé; she stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.
"Wh-what was…that?" She noticed the far-away look in his eyes, and she waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you catching a fever or something?"
"What the…!" Ranma's eyes grew wide. "Aw, no way am I saying that to her, old man! I'll take it myself from here!"
Akane whirled to where Ranma's eyes were focused, and she frowned as she spotted Uncle Genma in his panda form hiding in the yard, presenting an exact script of what Ranma had just said to her on a gigantic wooden sign. A mischievous grin was on his large face, and as Akane's eyes fell upon the remainder of the script, she felt herself turning red in embarrassment – those were words that would make the poetically-minded Kuno blush.
She quickly swung the door closed, blocking Ranma's father from view.
"Are you…" Akane directed her wrath in Ranma's direction as the flustered boy attempted to recover. "…trying to make a fool out of me!"
"Wait a second, Akane! Just this once!" He stammered with his hands raised defensively. "I still meant it!"
That gave Akane pause, and Ranma took advantage of the delay, probably to save his own skin.
"I, I mean, I still want you to have it," He finally managed, motioning to the golden orb. "I, I know that you, you know, kinda have this thing for jewelry, and since I missed out on the swimming lesson because of that moron Spopovitch, well…it yours, if you want it."
Akane found herself stunned, still not knowing whether to hit Ranma for his recent stunt or to hug him. She dismissed the latter thought almost immediately, but still, it had been an uncharacteristic show of remorse and humility, especially for a proud fighter like Ranma. He'd also actually given her something she'd liked for a change…she expected presents from Ranma's rival, Ryoga, not from her pig-headed fiancé.
As she considered the gift, Ranma had turned his head away, attempting to appear relaxed but coming off as nervous and fidgety. As Akane examined her reflection in the beautifully polished jewel, she smiled at it – she supposed she could forgive him this time.
"Err, I…thanks," She replied uneasily, looking to change the subject in case Ranma really did get sappy as his father seemed to have intended. "But…But what was a guy like Spopovitch doing with this kind of treasure in the first place? He didn't seem like the jewelry collecting type."
Ranma shrugged his shoulders; he also appeared grateful that the conversation flow had shifted.
"He said he'd gotten it from this other dojo he'd messed up," Ranma explained. "He said something interesting about it – it was part of some ancient puzzle or something. If we figure out the rest, something great's supposed to happen."
Akane stared at the crimson colored stars on the jewel's surface, pondering the cryptic message.
"Well, there's nothing written on here, no ancient language, no hieroglyphs, nothing that would give us a clue…you sure he just wasn't making this up?"
"I'm actually getting pretty close to that conclusion myself," Ranma shook his head. "For all we know, it could just be some trinket he passed off as some kind of god's treasure to get out of paying the losing fee…but, I think I know a way we can find out for certain."
Ranma's eyes had lit up, an idea dawning on him.
"What are you thinking?" Akane wondered.
"If this is a treasure, and it's supposed to be ancient, then the old ghoul at the Cat Café would probably be the only person that would have any idea about it. I mean, who better epitomizes ancient than her?"
Akane had to concede to Ranma's sudden burst of wisdom – while she would've been content searching for the identity of the jewel in a library book, the old Chinese woman that ran the Cat Café had made no secret of her extraordinary age, and during her lifetime, she had accumulated a remarkable collection of mystical oddities, some of which both Ranma and Akane had been victims of on occasion.
"It's worth a shot…" Akane agreed. "Besides, I'd rather not find out later that this thing carries some kind of curse that'll kill all of us."
"Then let's head down!" Ranma cheerily suggested. "I haven't had any of Shampoo's ramen in a long time anyway. I could go for a full plate – Kasumi cooked too light tonight!"
Akane passed her unsuspecting fiancé an irritated glare – despite Ranma stating time and again that he wanted nothing to do with his second self-proclaimed fiancé, he always seemed eager to kiss up to Shampoo for a plate of ramen if it suited him. The Chinese Amazon girl, on the other hand, couldn't keep her hands off of Ranma whenever she was around him. Neither of the two seemed to understand that she found the affectionate display disgusting…
"Something wrong, Akane?" Ranma asked; his naiveté to her irritation was apparent.
"I certainly hope not once we get there," Akane grabbed her fiancé's shirt sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
It wasn't very often that Ukyo set time aside for special occasions – aside from her birthday and the major holidays throughout the year, taking too much time off for personal reasons took away from time at her restaurant, and that meant less money for her to live off of. She was proud of her appreciation of her tenuous economic state – while many other people that she knew wasted their cash or were flat broke most of the time, Ukyo considered herself a fiercely independent woman that could easily care for herself under tense situations. In only her teen years, she felt she had surpassed even some of the adults she knew in terms of maturity and knowing what she had to do in order to make a decent living.
But tonight was a rare occurrence.
She'd closed the restaurant early, shooing the last patrons of the usual dinner rush out the door along with the rest of their meals. She was alone at the stainless steel okonomiyaki grill that stretched a generous length of the room, preparing a special surprise for her fiancé. The dough was perfect, just the right firmness, just the right temperature. She was now ready to personalize it as only she could.
"To my darling Ranma," She spoke the words out loud as she inscribed them on the finished dough using her sauce. "To think, tonight one year ago, I came here and we got back together after all those years apart. This is for my wonderful fiancé…"
There was so much more that she wanted to write, but the space on the plate-sized okonomiyaki simply wasn't there. Not that it mattered – she was proud enough of her work. She was almost embarrassed of the uncharacteristic sweetness she'd used for the message; she normally despised that level of sappiness in anything. But Ranma generally brought that feminine side out of her more than anybody…
Speaking of which… She took a glance at the clock. Where is he? He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago…
She'd briefly chatted with Ranma in school earlier that day about coming by that evening for something she'd wanted to give him – to lessen suspicion of a romantic encounter, which Ranma traditionally avoided like a plague, she'd said it was something small and she'd 'forgotten' to bring it to school that morning. While he'd seemed distracted from his usual morning brawl with Tatewaki Kuno, he'd quickly promised her that he would come by.
Maybe Akane caught wind of it… Ukyo scowled as the image of the ever-jealous tomboy surface. Perhaps Ranma had been on his way out the door when Akane had clobbered him unconscious, halting any kind of chance for romance between Ranma and Ukyo out of her usual spousal envy.
There was one way to find out – as she put the finishing touches on her okonomiyaki, she stepped over to the phone and dialed the Tendo residence.
Okonomiyaki : Japanese pizza
They'd almost stepped out the door when Akane and Ranma heard Kasumi calling for them. When they'd gone back into the living room to find out what was going on, the eldest Tendo daughter informed them that Ukyo was on the phone; at the mention of his third fiancé's name, Ranma felt his blood freeze.
"She wanted to know when you would be coming down," Kasumi went on as Ranma's eyes widened. "She said you promised to see her tonight; she was wondering if anything was wrong."
While Kasumi didn't say it outright, her gaze and downcast tone of voice reflected her opinion of Ranma's most recent oversight – indeed, he had promised Ucchan that he'd stop by the restaurant tonight, even if he'd lightly agreed to it while fending off sword strikes from Kuno.
"Well, well…" Akane was more visibly disappointed, angrily staring down the floundering Ranma. "Yet another irresponsible promise from the master. And what exactly does Ukyo want to give you that's important enough for a private invitation, huh?"
"Hey, hang on a second!" Ranma went on the defensive again. "She said it was something small, nothing important! This'll only take a second, just meet me down at the Cat Café and wait until I get there."
"You think I'm going to let you go by yourself after what I just heard!" Akane shouted. "How stupid do you think I am, you scum!"
Ranma backed away from his fiancé, beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck – how was it that he managed to agitate Akane almost every fifteen minutes he was around her! It was beyond belief what she could take out of context…still, if ever he was in need of some type of distraction…
"Oh, Akane…" Nabiki sauntered past all of them, casually flipping through a magazine. "I could've sworn that I saw old Happosai sneaking up toward your room a few minutes ago…he had a large bag in his hand, and I didn't exactly like that little smirk he had…"
"What!" Akane growled, storming past Ranma and up the stairs. "If that old pervert thinks he's going through my underwear drawer again, he's got another thing coming!"
As Akane disappeared from sight, Ranma let out his breath, his heart pounding.
"You're welcome," Nabiki smirked as she flipped another page. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if it turned out to be true, knowing Happosai."
Any other person would've deserved a grateful 'thank you' for helping Ranma out of that mess, but he knew Nabiki all too well.
"How much does that cost me?"
Nabiki closed the magazine and scratched her chin in mock-thought.
"Let's see…one life-saving distraction…lying to a family member, that's a bit extra…using Happosai as a fall guy gets you a bit of a discount…I'd say 1500 yen would suffice."
Ranma quickly forked over the cash with a bitter taste in his mouth As Kasumi wordlessly shook her head with amusement.
"Mercenary," He grumbled as he hurried toward the door. With Akane distracted, he could be halfway to Ucchan's before his dim-witted fiancé figured out the scam.
"Our doors are always open…" Nabiki mumbled in reply as she casually continued on with her magazine.
This was not what he expected.
Piccolo had arrived in Tokyo during the late morning hours, and it hadn't taken him long to realize that he'd arrived in a land far different from his own. While he had limited experience traveling through the industrialized human settlements surrounding his familiar valleys, Tokyo had proven itself far more chaotic than even the Capsule cities that his comrades inhabited. Piccolo had been chagrined by the sheer volume of monotonously-shaped skyscrapers and lesser square-shaped structures that comprised Tokyo; they seemed to stretch the length of a mountain range across the landscape. As the Namek had gone about searching for his prize, he'd felt as though he was swimming in a never-ending ocean of industry – every area around him looked the same with no stand-out features, and he nearly felt like he was suffocating from the overburden of steel, brick, and tile that had been forced upon him. The humans of this land lived in such cramped, cluttered areas that Piccolo had to wonder how they could retain their sanity as they went about their daily activities.
This had likely been what Sailor Neptune had been chiding him about, and if she'd been present, she'd be relishing in the evident discomfort that the Namek was experiencing at the moment.
However, aside from the physical and mental discomfort that the city provided, it had also made it difficult to track the missing Dragonball. Tokyo was easily the size of two Capsule cities, perhaps greater, and the tightly cramped spaces and massive quantity of humans inhabiting the metropolis meant that anybody could've come across the Dragonball and claimed it for their own – his day-long search of Tokyo had turned up absolutely nothing, and the sun was beginning to set, much to his dismay.
While an ordinary human likely wouldn't have known the secret of the mystical relic, they could've easily thrown it carelessly into an unimportant corner of a room, leaving it to collect dust while it could've been restoring the lives of the Sailor Soldiers lost in the future war…
Piccolo considered his options as he pushed past a pair of leisurely humans on the narrow sidewalk. Both of them shot him a mystified, nearly frightened gaze as they quickly moved away from him. That had also been a running theme of his search today – most of the humans he'd approached for information had sharply changed direction to avoid him or had briskly pointed him off in a random direction, leading the Namek on several wild goose chases all over town.
He supposed that a logical course of action would be to rendezvous with Sailor Neptune and retrieve the Dragon Radar…but that came with its own price. Aside from the enormous waste of time it would've been to track her down, bring the radar back to Tokyo, and scan the entire city with it, she would likely never let him live down the fact that he'd needed her help; it implied that he couldn't handle the stress of such a strange environment and that he couldn't adapt quickly enough to the circumstances. The elegant princess already possessed enough sly verbosity about her – Piccolo hardly needed to add to her ammunition…
As he passed by a small restaurant, he stopped in his tracks as a lanky young boy in a red silk shirt cut him off, nearly crashing into him as he rushed headlong into the quaint-looking establishment. Piccolo snorted – at least the boy hadn't passed him any strange glances. He'd gotten more than his fair share during the fruitless search.
The streets were beginning to empty, the humans retiring to their homes and closing their businesses for the day. It could've been a good or bad change – he would be safe to search the length of the city without any prying eyes as the people slept during the night, but depending on where the Dragonball was hidden, it could've limited his search options.
He stopped in his tracks momentarily, considering that thought…who said he needed to be secretive about his search methods? It wasn't as if he couldn't go through steel and brick walls if it meant covering some extra ground…
I hope you're not going to consider what I think you're considering…
The sudden intrusion into the Namek's mind stunned him momentarily, but that shock dissolved into rage as he recognized the voice's origin.
"And just how long have you been watching me, old man?" He growled at the thin air. It didn't matter – Kami still heard him loud and clear. "I suppose you're enjoying the show, watching me fumble about like a child in this place? How can you lord over such backwards-thinking cretins? They can hardly turn around, much less pay homage to a Guardian."
I admit that Tokyo isn't exactly the best example of humanity, but it does have its goodness and wonders… Kami's wizened voice replied. And I do have a right to be concerned about your behavior among my subjects down there…
"The rights of these people are a luxury right now," Piccolo snapped. "Centuries from now, this world will be dying under the grip of that army in Crystal Tokyo. Without the Dragonballs, we cannot make progress against our enemies – I'm going to do whatever it takes to find the one hidden here, even if it means circumventing the 'rights' of these creatures."
I would advise against that… Kami's voice turned almost deadly serious at Piccolo's decree; the Namek warrior was surprised at the old man's defiance. Time is on our side at this point, and retrieving that Dragonball should not and will not be done at the expense of my people's lives.
Piccolo was growing irritated at Kami's persistence.
"We can wish them back at some point in the future if sentiment demands it; damn you, old man, bigger things are at stake than these worthless fools!"
When last I checked, I was Guardian of this world, not you. Let me be the judge of that. Kami spat, causing Piccolo to grind his teeth bitterly. He couldn't remember his counterpart acting so stubborn in recent memory; he realized that it shouldn't have surprised him. After all, Kami had at one point been willing to kill himself just so Piccolo would die with him and his 'people' would be safe from the monstrous demon lord that the Namek had been at that time.
"I assumed you were responsible for safeguarding every human life, past, present, or future," Piccolo retorted. "For all you know, such a delay could cost us more human lives in Crystal Tokyo. Or is that their king's problem? After all, why should you worry about creatures outside your dominion? It appears that even the most 'benevolent' soul of this world still has his prejudices…"
Such tact will get you nowhere… Kami replied slowly. And just so you know, should you pursue a course of action that brings harm to the humans living in Tokyo, I shall wash my hands of my part in the Dragonball plan.
Piccolo's eyes widened, his temper flaring.
"Are you…blackmailing me?" He fumed, his energy rising. "I can't believe you'd be so petty, especially at a time like this!"
I will not be an accomplice to the harm or murder of innocents. You'll need my presence in the future Earth for the Dragonballs to work, and I will refuse to aid you if you follow such a rash path of destruction for something that can be obtained through peaceful means.
Piccolo felt the need to destroy something; being scolded by the old man was the worst insult he could possibly receive.
"When this is over…"
Calm yourself already – I have my intuition, and I think you'll find your way just fine if you stay where you are…
"'Stay where I am?'" Piccolo repeated, confused. "What do you mean by that! Old man!"
But the mental presence was gone – Kami had retreated back to his lavish palace, leaving Piccolo to do the grunt work below with a new set of restrictions levied on him. The Namek wanted to scream in fury – Kami couldn't have made a more asinine decree. How could he possibly know how much time was on their side…
His musings were interrupted by the sounds of crashing and shouting in the small restaurant behind him. Piccolo grumbled lowly and continued on his way up the sidewalk, amazed that the old Guardian could ever stomach ruling over such a populace, let alone choosing to protect them over the heralds of the future era. If Piccolo ever took over the world, this quagmire of a city would be the first to go, out of spite if nothing else.
He proceeded a small distance further, still lost in his thoughts as to how to best conduct his search now that the option of violence had been eliminated. He barely registered that the same pig-tailed boy that had cut him off to enter the restaurant earlier was charging right by him at top speed, again completely oblivious of his existence. How comforting.
His head was beginning to ache from his frustrations, and as a young girl's enraged voice cried out in his direction, he could only feel the pain worsening from the noise.
"Ranma, you jackass! How could you! Get back here!"
Piccolo continued walking, mumbling an obscenity to himself about his current predicament. His frustration was so great that he barely heard the voice's next comment – a cry of warning to move. The sudden urgency of the voice was what grabbed his attention, and as Piccolo turned his head around, he didn't even have time to react as a solid metal object crashed against his face. Stunned and completely caught off-guard by the force of the object, Piccolo fell over.
Oh, no! I was aiming for Ranma!
Despite her burning rage toward her fiancé at the moment, the young girl still hurried over to the innocent bystander that had been blasted by her gigantic spatula. The implement had caught the man flush in the face, bowling him over onto the ground in a dazed heap.
As Ukyo reached the man and attempted to help him up, she found herself staring face-to-face with the strangest-looking person she'd ever seen. The bystander didn't even resemble anything human – instead of skin, his exterior was a deep green, like a lizard, and there were spongy patches of flesh up and down his bare arms. While the man was still stunned and uncoordinated from the spatula hit, Ukyo saw that he possessed sharp, charcoal-black eyes and a set of pearl-white fangs.
Even his clothes were alien – beneath the snow-white cloak and shoulder guards, he wore a loose-fitting purple gi with a pair of flesh-colored shoes. Atop his round head was a purple turban entwined in white cloth. The first thought Ukyo had about this man, other than the fact that his skull appeared undamaged from the impact of her spatula, was that he certainly was from somewhere far out of town.
"I-I'm sorry…" She stammered as she attempted to put the man's physical appearance aside – she had still injured him, even if it was by accident, and she owed him an apology. The man massaged his chiseled face with a large hand; Ukyo gasped at the sight of claws on his fingers. "I guess I kinda lost my temper. I was aiming at my fiancé, but he was too fast and you were in the way and…"
She realized she was babbling, but she didn't have a chance to correct herself as the man growled like some kind of enraged animal, rising to his full height and shaking off the last vestiges of grogginess. Ukyo shrunk away; she was pretty tall for her age – it gave her an almost masculine quality, something she disliked – but she only stood as high as the odd-looking man's chest.
Before she could say any more, he whirled at her with a venomous roar, advancing on her. Ukyo was struck paralyzed by the man's monstrous gaze, the black eyes boring through her in an instant.
"Why, you…!" Ukyo was backed against the wall of her restaurant as the man raised one clawed hand. She froze and screamed, terrified that he was going to attack her.
But the man stopped in his tracks, blinking at her and catching his breath. She could feel herself trembling as the cloaked man backed away, lowering his clawed arm. Glancing around, Ukyo noticed that the scene had attracted a few bystanders, and the man was looking quite skittish as the passers-by regarded him with suspicion and shock – after all, he'd just nearly assaulted a girl half his size.
"It's fine, it's nothing!" Ukyo held up her hands, urging the bystanders to move on; thankfully, they were content to do so.
"I'm…sorry…" The man's voice was deep, nearly guttural, but he had backed away, giving her room to move away from the wall. "It seems we both lost our tempers. I meant no offense."
"Err, think nothing of it…" Ukyo passed the man a sheepish grin as she recovered her spatula. She gasped as she noticed the facial imprint of the cloaked man on the middle of the implement; sometimes, she forgot her own strength, especially when she got angry. She was even more amazed that the man's face was intact. He rubbed his jaw, stretching it and testing out some of his cheekbones. "Let me make it up to you – an okonomiyaki, on the house?"
"Oko…what?" He blinked in confusion.
"My restaurant," She motioned to the sign above the building. "I'm an okonomiyaki chef. You can have your pick of anything in exchange for the trouble."
The man blinked a bit more, as if he were pondering something.
"'Stay where I am…'" He said absently with an amused smirk. "I mean, thank you; I think I will take you up on that offer."His face ached and a more potent headache was setting in, but Piccolo found himself actually relaxing a bit inside the simple restaurant. Aside from following the old Guardian's advice and letting this chance encounter play itself out, it was admittedly nice to take a breather from the chase; doing so would've made him more capable of keeping his thoughts and a solid plan during the future hours of the Dragonball hunt.
As he filled himself with an amber-colored drink that his hostess had offered while she cooked his free consolation meal, Piccolo was still intrigued by her brute strength. Not many people could knock him off his feet, even if it was the result of an accidental surprise attack; her raging strike and seemingly masculine attitude reminded Piccolo of the women his comrades associated themselves with...
While the Namek had helped himself to the bottle of spirit, the girl had introduced herself as the proprietor of the business, having set up shop in Tokyo months before to be closer to her fiancé.
He did find it remarkable that the girl owned and ran the establishment all by herself – most humans, from his knowledge, hadn't progressed so far at that point in life. What exactly a 'fiancé' was, she seemed to take it very seriously; Piccolo was unfamiliar with the term.
The conversation had been one-sided and overly cheery at first; she was likely attempting to get him into a better mood and deflect annoyance from the recent 'accident' outside. Piccolo was hardly fond of idle chatter, and his recent frustrations had further reinforced that sentiment. He'd only told her, albeit politely, his drink preference and to surprise him with the meal choice.
The girl, Ukyo, hadn't seemed to mind his silence too much; she seemed far too mesmerized by her cooking to take offense to his attitude. It was fascinating to watch her painstaking efforts to perfect the delicacy-in-progress – he imagined it was that 'okonomiyaki' she'd mentioned earlier. She seemed as focused on the preparation of the food as Piccolo would've been on an opponent during a fight. He did admit that the dish was giving off a pleasant aroma, and even though he did not need to consume food in order to survive, he was certain that his stomach could handle the delicacy.
As he drained a third glass in as many minutes of his drink, Ukyo glanced up in astonishment.
"This is very tasty," He attempted to be polite as he poured himself another full glass out of the bottle. It was strange – the more he consumed the tangy spirit, the more his anxiety and rigidity seemed to lighten. He couldn't remember when he felt so suddenly inclined to converse with anybody. "Do people drink it often?"
Ukyo chuckled.
"Most people don't make it past three glasses of sake in less than five minutes. You must be experienced at drinking that sort of stuff."
"My first time," Piccolo replied, at which Ukyo shook her head in bewilderment. He didn't understand why, but he did notice that his headache seemed to lessen and his muscles seemed to relax as more liquid disappeared down his throat. As he refilled again, he noticed that the two of them weren't alone in the restaurant after all – a muscular human boy was collapsed in a heap over in the corner, his muscles not moving. From the tattered shirt and bruised eye, Piccolo guessed that he'd been attacked by somebody and knocked unconscious.
"Was there a fight in here recently?" Piccolo motioned to the young man, and Ukyo scowled.
"He was the one my fiancé was fighting with…" She grumbled as she poured some sauce on the fried dough. "He showed up right at the same time my fiancé did, and all hell broke loose. Ryoga over there got the worst of it…It had to be tonight…they ruined the entire evening I had in mind…"
Piccolo frowned as Ukyo continued to bicker to herself – there had been a brawl, and his senses had not detected it? Kami had distracted him more than the Namek had imagined. But perhaps if he'd been paying more attention, his face wouldn't be throbbing right now…
One curiosity had been answered though – this fiancé was a person, probably someone close with such an elegant-sounding title.
As Piccolo drained another glass, Ukyo glanced up, her rage passing.
"Anyway…if you don't mind my asking, are you from out of town? I feel like I've seen you before somewhere, mister…uh…"
Piccolo froze a bit, gently setting his glass down; Ukyo was asking for a name, and the Namek had an idea of where the girl's latent familiarity with him had come from – she might've recognized his hardened visage from the Tenkachi Budokai tournament over six years ago when he faced down Son Goku. Piccolo's face had been plastered all over the human media, and he'd been connected to his predecessor, one of the greatest demon lords ever to terrorize the human race. If he revealed his true name, it could've completed the connection for Ukyo and ignited trouble between him and the Tokyo humans. Considering Kami's recent ground rules, such a conflict would've been a catastrophe, especially if he was forced to defend himself against a fear-stricken mob looking to defend their city from a vengeful demon.
"Well, my name is…" He smiled; with the thought of the Tenkachi Budokai fresh in his mind, a small bit of irony occurred to him. If Kami saw fit to play games with Piccolo, he would play right along. "My name is Shen. And you're right, I am from a land far from this place. If you're wondering why I seem a bit…out of touch with the customs of this city, it's because I generally live in the countryside of my land. I'm a bit more simplistic about things."
Ukyo completed her work, serving the okonomiyaki to her guest and listening with fascination.
"Really? Wow…I've always wanted to start up my own business in the country someday," She smiled. "Do you think there'd be a market for okonomiyaki out that far?"
Before Ukyo could hand Piccolo any silverware, the Namek had grabbed up the food with one hand, taking a large bite out of the crispy, flavorful dough. Two bites later, the morsel had disappeared except for a few gobs of sauce on Piccolo's bare arm. Ukyo coughed, slipping the silverware away.
Piccolo gauged the taste of the delicacy; it was partially sweet, and it reminded him of a boiled fruit…Gohan would enjoy it…his father would as well, if Piccolo knew Goku's tendencies.
"I can say this," He reported. "I know of a single family that could live off of these for the rest of their lives. You'd be rich in a matter of days if you kept up with them."
"Really?" She was impressed. "If only that were true – me and my Ranma honey, we'd live like royalty…"
"You think that I'm exaggerating, but I'm not," Piccolo poured himself another drink. "And, if I may ask, who is this Ranma?"
Ukyo reddened slightly, her mind obviously drifting to thoughts that Piccolo wanted no elaboration upon.
"Well, he's my fiancé, the one that ran by you before I…ran into you. I guess he can be a pain sometimes, but I'd be afraid to wonder about life without him…" She clarified, answering Piccolo earlier question completely but thoroughly unsettling him with her amorous words.
From the dreamy look that overcame her when Piccolo mentioned his name, he gathered that this Ranma was Ukyo's 'fiancé,' or betrothed if his deduction was correct. As he observed Ukyo blushing, nearly swooning over Ranma, he remembered that Goku's woman had acted similarly toward him during the Tenkachi Budokai all those years ago, battling him fiercely in a tournament match before endearing herself to him. As Piccolo thought more about it, Yamcha's woman could be grouped into that same category of temporary insanity whenever she was involved with her mate, perhaps to an even greater degree from what Piccolo knew of her. And he had also once heard Tenshinhan speaking briefly – in a very awkward and uncomfortable tone – of a psychotic woman who'd been enamored with him for years, even without the warrior returning the affection…
It seemed like a solid conclusion to a strange curiosity – gauging the similarities, it seemed that human women lost their senses around their potential mates, which might've explained Ukyo's agitation toward her fleeing fiancé during their initial meeting. Piccolo suddenly felt like breathing a grateful sigh of relief that Nameks had no biological partners – there would never be a need for him to deal with such chaos…
Unless, of course, he considered the mock-affections of Sailor Neptune. Perhaps the idea of an impassioned female was what made him so uncomfortable with her playful flirting toward him. He just couldn't stomach the idea of being in thrall to such a relationship for an entire lifetime, especially with a partner that lost sanity because of the lunacy of 'love'…
"But what exactly brings you here?" Ukyo wondered, drawing Piccolo back into reality. He could internally debate the mystery of the human psyche when time permitted; as it was, he felt embarrassed that he'd strayed from the task at hand.
But as he finished off another glass of sake, he hesitated a bit – he obviously couldn't be truthful about his motives for finding the Dragonball. While saying that he wanted to resurrect five lost warriors to help fight a war in a future era of Earth would've been laughable to most humans, Ukyo had proven more inquisitive and indulgent than most other members of her race. Having her know about his mission was one thing, but revealing the secret of the mystical orbs could've led to more trouble; the fewer fallible humans that knew about the god-like power of the Dragonballs, the better.
But still, the mere appearance of a treasure like that could leave an indelible impression on a creature, even if its powers were unknown to them. Piccolo could remember the first time his predecessor had gazed upon the Dragonballs. Of all the memories Daimou had passed on to him, that one stuck with him almost greater than any.
He took in a breath, picking his words carefully and deliberately.
"…In my homeland," He began as Ukyo's gaze was transfixed on the Namek. "…I'm a collector of rare and invaluable artifacts…one of which has found its way to this city, though I do not know where…"
Ukyo was drawn in by the enigmatic build-up Piccolo had given to the Dragonball – the more mystique he lent the prize, the more willing Ukyo may've been to help him find it.
"What does it look like?" She wondered.
Piccolo smirked; he made an elaborate gesture with his hands, acting as if he was holding a prized crystal ball.
"It's a small orb, about the size of a fist," He explained, speaking slowly and with a guarded effervescence. The more enthusiasm he lent the Dragonball, the more spectacular and tantalizing it would appear. "It's golden on the surface, as brilliant as the Sun. Its sheen is perfect, without a crack or a blemish anywhere on it. And in the middle, there is a collection of ruby-colored stars; it's worth more than any material in this land. From what I understand, it dates back a number of ages."
"Now, you being an entrepreneur of a place like this…" Piccolo continued as Ukyo listened; his acting had nearly put her in a trance. "You must see quite a variety of people passing through here during the day. A lot of people might show off such an exquisite treasure…I don't suppose you've seen anything like what I described to you?"
Ukyo paused momentarily, scratching her chin as Piccolo held his breath. This could've been the lucky break he'd needed since his arrival in Tokyo.
However, after half a minute of pondering, Ukyo woefully shook her head.
"Sorry…I'd remember something as beautiful-looking as that if any of my customers ever showed it off. Considering some of the people that come in here, there would've been a fight over it if it's that valuable."
"I see…" Piccolo was crestfallen; in reality, he supposed it was wishful thinking that the first person he'd met would have the Dragonball gift-wrapped for him.
"But I think I can point you in the right direction," She lit up all of a sudden, her eyes brightening as Piccolo kept his expression guarded – he'd taken several false leads already today, and he wasn't in the mood for another, even if Ukyo was well-meaning. "There's another café a few blocks over from me; the old woman who runs it is ancient beyond belief. If you tell her what you told me about this being a treasure that goes back so many years, I'm sure she'll at least know what you're talking about."
Piccolo considered it for a few moments; no human he knew could've been as old as the Dragonballs, except maybe for that strange old fortune teller that sometimes showed up around Goku…
"Could anybody be that old?"
"You think that I'm exaggerating, but I'm not," Ukyo chuckled, echoing his words from earlier with a small imitation of his voice. "Her name's Cologne, and the place is called the Cat Café. It's probably your best shot."
Piccolo mulled it over as he finished off the bottle of sake; there weren't any guarantees, but it would've been better than aimlessly wandering Tokyo for hours on end.
As he downed the final glass, he smiled toward Ukyo.
"Show me."