12.21am Monday, October 9th
Where in heaven's name was Ryoga? She had left him alone for only a few minutes and…well, he could just stay lost. She could enjoy herself without him.
Who was she fooling? The night was a bust. If she planned to open early as usual, which she did, she'd had best be leaving soon, anyway.
"Excuse me, miss?" asked an expressive voice as she left the vicinity of the dance floor. Turning, she was presented with a tall, fair-haired boy, perhaps a year or so older than she was. She noted that he was quite bishonen , though not as chiselled as Ryoga – or handsome as Konatsu.
"Yeah, bud, what can I do for you?" she asked, making an effort to hide her apathy.
"You could allow me the pleasure of buying you a drink," he answered suavely. She raised an eyebrow.
"No pick-up line?" He grinned and without pause eloquently rolled,
"If the heavens made anything more beautiful than you, they would surely have hoarded it for themselves." She rolled her eyes.
"Corny," she judged. He nodded amiably,
"I agree," he laughed, "After all, I did just make it up."
"I could tell." He smiled at her mild barb and added.
"Would you have preferred 'If this were a meat market, you'd be prime rib'?"
"Point taken," she sniggered, almost genuinely, and glanced at her watch. "What's your name?"
"Mikado," he introduced himself.
"A vodka and lime please, Mikado. Then we'll see how you do."
"I can't wait," he said sincerely.
---
"Akane-chan, were you eavesdropping?" asked Kasumi with a semblance of a frown. Sheepishly, the younger girl said,
"I didn't really hear anything, oneechan."
"That's doesn't excuse you for listening in on other people's private conversations imouto-chan," announced the elder girl tersely. "I'm very disappointed with you." Gaze lowered, Akane blushed in shame.
"Gomen, oneechan. I just…"
"Yes, dear?" prompted Kasumi, crossness dissolving.
"Where… where has Nabiki gone? I mean, it's after midnight and all…"
"Akane-chan," soothed Kasumi, "Your sister is an adult now. Where she goes is entirely her own business. I trust her to behave herself responsibly. Don't you think that you should, too?"
Resolve crumbling and suitably chastised, Akane turned to leave. Until she noticed something which gave her pause.
"Kasumi-oneechan, your hand! What happened? You have to see a doctor! We need -"
"Calm down. Calm down, Akane," Kasumi brought a halt to her babbling. "I just sprained my hand slightly carrying today's groceries. There's nothing to worry about," she assured. "But don't tell Father. You know how emotional he gets?" she asked rhetorically. "It will be fine in a day or so."
"If you say so, oneechan," answered Akane trustfully.
Seeing the opportunity to get something off of her chest Akane began, "Um, oneechan. I did something really bad tonight…"
"Go on," instructed Kasumi. "I don't believe that it will be as bad as you think it is."
"But it is!" Akane insisted. "I… I blamed Ranma for something he didn't do. And I wouldn't even listen to him when he tried to explain himself," she admitted.. "Not that I gave him much of a chance," she finished dejectedly.
"Akane, dear. We know you've always had a slight temper," even Akane winced at the sugar-coating, "But that you realize, and acknowledge that you were at fault is a big step. Admitting it, even to me, is too," proclaimed Kasumi smiling proudly.
"Really?"
"Of course. But you must repeat what you've told me to Ranma. And try to make it up to him." Nodding vigorously, Akane answered,
"I will, oneechan. Definitely!"
"Good," adjudged Kasumi. "How does Ranma feel now?"
"Ah," hesitated Akane. "Right now, he's in bed." The wind abruptly stolen from her sails, Kasumi said,
"I suppose it wouldn't to do disturb Saotome-jiisan…"
"Oh, that's not a problem, oneechan," replied Akane confidently.
"And why is that, imouto-chan?"
"Because Ranma is in…er," Akane twiddled her thumbs together as she realized what she'd just committed herself to revealing. "Ranma's in… my bed right now."
Yatta! About time, figured Kasumi. What was Akane doing wasting time here?
"Akane-chan, that's not entirely proper," Kasumi mumbled, feeling horrid for the lie. Nabiki wasn't the only one who had to suffer to maintain the façade of 'normalcy'.
"Don't worry, oneechan. He's a girl right now," Akane informed her sister, praying that she wouldn't make her move Ranma. She'd sleep on the living room floor herself rather than do that, she resolved.
Seemingly lost in analysing the matter, Kasumi finally passed judgment.
"I suppose, in that case, it's alright, Akane-chan. But keep away from hot water." I'll be in here until sunrise, yelled Kasumi internally. Get some hot water, damnit! I dare you. You have all night.
"Thanks, oneechan," replied Akane cheerfully, pecking her on the cheek. "Goodnight."
As Akane left the room, Kasumi boggled that Akane hadn't thought to question why Nabiki had left through the window.
---
Sliding her door shut, Akane lightly approached her occupied bed. The slight figure had tossed off half the covers and lay there, curled on her side, sucking her thumb adorably. Loath to disturb her, but understanding the necessity. Akane quickly set out a spare pair of pyjamas.
Pulling back the covers completely, Akane effortlessly straightened out the small girl. Softly, she pulled off her thin black pants, revealing a pair of oversized green boxer shorts. She quickly folded them, and left them beside the bed. Getting Ranma's limp legs into the yellow pyjama bottoms was slightly more awkward, but she managed it without much difficulty.
Now came the real problem. Akane knew what would be awaiting her beneath Ranma's light blue tang. She shook her head at the surreal realization that she wished her fiancé would decide to wear a bra every once in a while. Steeling herself, Akane unfastened and mechanically removed the Chinese garment. Averting her eyes, she readied the cotton pajama shirt, and turned her gaze back to the comatose figure.
And I'm better built to boot.
How much damaged had been caused by those callous words? Akane had felt so betrayed for so long. Even after she'd come to… care for Ranma. Only recently had she accepted that they were just words born not of spite, but of frustration and anger. Things with which Akane could easily empathize. Akane had come to wonder if that wasn't the real betrayal of that night.
I'm Akane. You want to be friends?
She had uttered those words in sincerity, words she had taken all of an hour to go back on.
Looking back from Ranma's point of view, Akane could only imagine the helplessness he had felt then. Fate had decreed that the Saotomes arrive during a miserable, wet evening, and Ranma had been trapped in a position entirely outside of his control.
Often, she'd ruminate over how angry and confused at having the engagement, all but unannounced, to a stranger thrust upon her. Only in recent months had she tried to understand how her fiancé had felt. Thrust out of his vagabond life; all he'd known, and into a strange, unfamiliar, and thanks to Nabiki and her, hostile environment. Forced into a lifetime arrangement with somebody he'd only just met, who after offering friendship, near immediately spurned him.
The curse had been less than a month old then. She couldn't fathom the confusion, pressure, anger and despondency at having all this thrust on his young shoulders. People often seemed to forget that he had scarcely seventeen years to him name. Yet, despite this, the burden - the full responsibility of two families, repeatedly fell on his shoulders.
Akane smiled, her gaze moving to Ranma's peaceful face. Her eyes shone proudly. Regardless of everything, every obstacle that befell him, every enemy that beset him, he had always lived up to that responsibility with implacable determination.
With no further hesitancy, Akane smoothly slipped the redhead into the brightly coloured cotton garment. Carefully, she slid gently between the covers, facing the tranquil visage of her fiancé. Fingering a stray scarlet bang, Akane brushed the girl's brow tenderly, before placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead.
---
1.02am
'Should have gone home', thought Ukyo ponderously, as she sipped at her drink. Mikado seemed a nice enough guy, someone who she wouldn't mind meeting and chatting with again. But not much more. He just seemed somewhat pretentious. She found herself missing Ryoga's company even more so. She almost wished she'd asked Konatsu out instead. She had grown to enjoy his company
Absently nodding at some political observation from Mikado, Ukyo turned her sight to the still crowded club. She 'hmmed' as she made eye contact with a girl from her class. The 'goth girl', Miyo, looking rather less than gothic tonight, it would appear. Perhaps she could use her as means of distracting Mikado? She had to open for breakfast in four hours after all.
From the way the girl was eyeballing her, perhaps not, Ukyo re-evaluated. That stare had more to it than simple recognition. Breaking the overzealous eye contact as took a deep drink from her glass, Ukyo turned to Mikado, with no further intent of concealing her ennui.
What was that he said? 'Calling her a…'
"Hey, did you just compare me to a bonfire?" mumbled the chef. The hell? When had she gotten so drunk? This was only her third drink of the night.
Heh. Now he sounded like Kuno. "You have a radiant… corona," he said, her dulled senses missing the hungry gleam in his eyes.
"I do?" asked the brunette shakily, trying to buy time to gather her thoughts. She needed Ryoga, Miyo, anyone, to…
"Of course," he smiled, moving closer. "You're just like a shooting star," he said as he pressed his lips to hers.
---
"Hey, B," cheerily greeted the huge bouncer. Muscular nearly to the point of being grotesque, the tank-topped man's smile caused tendons to visible ripple in the cinder block that served as a neck. "Don't usually see you here on a Sunday night," he noted. "Dressed to kill, I see."
"What can I say, Ken-baby," she smirked casually. "I just can't stay away from you." He revealed several gold teeth as he unleashed a hideous, good-natured smile.
"Does that mean you're ready to reconsider your stance on my offer?"
"Got to go with the same answer as last time, Ken-baby," she replied adroitly.
"Alas, 'tis a trifling pity," he proclaimed theatrically, in deliberate imitation of another acquaintance of hers. "Forsooth, I would in thine stead, seek to garnish my purest attentions on thine august sister, she who is Diana of the moon, save t'would be certes that she tear me a new orifice in her maidenly, yet misguided indignation."
Smirking delightedly, Nabiki judged,
"Very good. You've been practicing, haven't you, Ken-baby?"
"Verily," he grinned. "And oddly sensitive of you to note so, mine fair and alleged maiden.
"Just because I don't care about your feelings and quirks doesn't mean I don't know they're there."
He shrugged, seemingly unaffected. Dropping the act, he asked
"So where is Ms. K, anyway?" with emphasis on 'Miz'. "Unlike her not to drop by on Sunday for a quickie."
"She feeling a little bit under the weather," Nabiki supplied with a withering glare.
"That time of the month?" he asked cheekily.
"You want to live?" she rejoined just as casually.
"Hey, I don't blame K for staying home. I hear that the cramps can be highly uncomfortable."
"Repeat that when you see her. For me," she asked. "You'll wish I had killed you."
"Ah, but to die by your side would be such a heavenly place to die," he quoted jovially.
"I never figured you for a Smiths fan."
"People always make assumptions based on appearance," he intoned with faux grief. "Now I know how Joan of Arc felt." Nabiki rolled her eyes.
"Annoying bastard."
"I'll have you know my parents were unhappily married when that condom ripped."
"I truly don't want to get into a discourse on how you know this," she groaned.
"A lot of people don't want to get into a lot of things. For example,"
"Make the pain stop."
"Let's take the pop-idol industry."
"Let's not."
"Have you seen some of those vile outfits?" He whistled in condolence. "But then again, getting them out of them would be worth seeing them in them in the first place, if you know what I mean, B?" He whistled again, this time in apparent appreciation.
"I think I get what you're alluding to," she answered dryly. "Anyway, Kenji," she began; dropping the familiar suffix in indication that play time had ended. "Anything noteworthy tonight?"
Scratching at his Vandyke with an unadorned thumb, he reported,
"Nothing particularly worthy of mention comes to mind. A small few new patrons, no more than a dozen. Some pretty boy I haven't seen here in a while."
"Who?" she asked curtly.
Not displaying any reaction to the resulting information, but filing it away nonetheless, Nabiki instructed the muscled man to continue. "Not anything especially interesting. Maybe…" he trailed off inconclusively.
"I'm on a schedule here, Kenji," she rebuked impatiently. He affectedly pondered his answer before replying in a masterfully infuriating tone,
"Ah, forget it. Its nothing important."
Nabiki began to glow. Kenji held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Jesus, okay! No need to go 'objective' on me," he pleaded to the girl over whom he held a foot in height. "Damn, I guess it is that time of the month."
"Kenji," she bit off menacingly. He nodded hastily, and without any apparent change in his demeanour, lowered his voice slightly.
"Its just that I saw I couple of kids earlier tonight. I can't be sure, but I think…"
"You think what?"
"They might have been friends of yours. Well, not you in particular but your doomed brother-in-law."
That surprised Nabiki, and it also set her alarm bells ringing.
"Describe them to me," she ordered, "and don't be vague."
--
Controlled ki convalesced at the heart of the injury. Kasumi sighed at the feeling. It if hadn't been for Ba-chan's techniques, contemplated the young woman, she would have been lit up like a Christmas tree. Of more relevance, she mused, if not the techniques, her hand would still have been a pulpy mess.
Even ignoring the oddly uncomfortable sensation, Kasumi couldn't help but fidget restlessly beneath her covers. Her thoughts returned to a very troubling subject.
Kasumi cursed herself as she grasped the menace she may have inadvertently released. Kodachi had always been a dangerous individual. Potentially a killer, felt Kasumi, even if the young Kuno lady herself failed to comprehend its consequences. To quote Nabiki, she had been 'a leotard-ed fruit loop with a penchant for poisons, but fairly easy to handle once you had her measure.'
While not entirely agreeing with that assessment (she had a ribbon too, thought Kasumi) the eldest Tendo girl realised that as unstable as she had been, 'The Black Rose' had proven to be nothing if not remarkably predictable. Due diligence was sufficient to curb any homicidal potential on that Kodachi's part.
The woman who Kasumi in her ignorance had uncovered was an entirely different matter. Bitter, covetous and chillingly angry… all a mask for a sad, lonely girl. The thing about masks, felt Kasumi, was that the longer one wore one, the more difficult it was to remove. The default Tendo matriarch knew this first hand, recalling how difficult it had been to realise that she wasn't her father's wife…
Vainly attempting to turn her reflections to less unsettling themes, the dark-eyed girl soon gave up and gathered her bo staff from its concealed pocket beneath her bed.
--
Good old Ryoga. The description had fit, but the leopard motif bandanna had clinched it. Of course, sighed Nabiki ruefully, that didn't exactly help much. The Lost Boy could be anywhere between Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur by now. Frustratingly, the other description wasn't anywhere near as conclusive.
"Well built. Long, dark hair. Blue eyes, I think. Stacked. About your height, B. Real hot. Did I mention she was stacked?"
'Well, thank you a whole hell of a lot, Kenji.' Always thinking with his crotch. That account could be used to describe Ukyo or (shudder) Kodachi as well as several other girls Nabiki knew. Assuming Ken had even recalled the eye colour properly.
If not, it could refer to just about any girl she knew who had a chest. Even Shampoo, now that she'd discontinued dying her hair that outlandish lavender hue. But why would the Amazon have been with Ryoga? Hell, why would anyone?
Okay, that was unfair, but Hibiki's ability to get lost on a Möbius Strip had the rather impactful result of slightly cutting down on his date-ability.
Nabiki frowned. Even one of the overpowered misfits would have drawn them like moths to a flame. Focusing, Nabiki extended her 'other' senses to encompass as much of the still busy nightclub as she could, without losing coherency. Her mind awash with new awareness, she searched.
"Oh, fuck."
--
2.13am
A raggedy towel did to wipe Kasumi's brow as she finished her impromptu training session. The tall girl would have preferred to practice on the roof but couldn't run the risk of alerting the slumbering house. A single misstep could have awoken the usually light sleeping Akane.
Halfway to the furo, her senses flared. Somebody strong – Nabiki – she surmised, was approaching the Tendo residence. Fast. And apparently uneasy from the way she was leaking energy.
She sensed no others, but the could be concealing themselves. Readying her weapon, Kasumi promptly made her way to the roof. This wasn't training, and she wouldn't stumble. She was prepared when her sister materialised beside her. She signed the question 'tail?' Nabiki shook her head, signing back. Kasumi's eyes widened.
"We should go inside."
--
2.23am
Kasumi quietly shut the furo door behind her and began to undress with her sister. In silence they stripped and scrubbed down with soap and cold water. After thoroughly cleaning away the sweat they had both managed to work up, they entered the steaming furo together. Nabiki broke the silent interregnum with a blissful sigh. She opened heavy eyelids to see her sister observing her expectantly, but patiently.
Nabiki exhaled and shut her eyelids title.
"Vampires?"
"If only," groaned Nabiki.
"Pariah?"
"Pariahs," corrected the eighteen year-old.
"I couldn't help but notice the pluralism," replied Kasumi, running her right hand through her free hair. She turned demanding eyes toward her sibling, summoning the will to make her tone flat. "That was a slip of the tongue?"
"At least two," answered Nabiki concisely.
"At least?" With Ba-chan still recovering, she didn't relish the prospect of Nabiki and she taking on two by themselves. But more again…
Nabiki nodded, and grimaced.
"And one of them partook of a meal." Kasumi reflexively brought her hand to her mouth.
Woe plain on her face, the younger sister added,
"It gets worse." Kasumi motioned for her to continue. "The victim was likely someone we know." The water suddenly felt very cold
Kasmui steeled herself. "Do you know who?"
"I can't confirm it," answered Nabiki, her thoughts awhirl. She had stopped by the Ucchan's, which had been vacant. Not an especially uncommon occurrence, considering Nerima's sole Kuonji left town occasionally to attend various fine cuisine conferences that periodically set up shop (and kitchen) in irregular ports dotted about the nation.
Shampoo had seemed fine, and Nabiki hadn't deigned to grace the Kuno Estate with her presence. The middle Tendo spoke her conclusion. "But most likely Ryoga." Kasumi's heart sank. Behind that wall of anger and depression, Ranma's perennial challenger and friend was one of the most genuinely kind people she knew.
Quelling the desire to be evasive, she asked,
"Is he alive?" Nabiki's face fell.
"I couldn't tell from the latent aura scar," she informed her companion. "But what was taken would have killed either of us…" Kasumi bowed her head. Nabiki's tone hardened when she realised that her sister was praying for the boy's soul. "We don't know, Kasumi," she rebuked. "If any normal person could have survived that, it would have been him... Do you want to look for him? Tonight?"
"Why bother? We both know that its pointless."
"Please excuse me, sister. I was just over here busy having feelings."
Not another word was spoken for several minutes.
"At least two?" asked Kasumi again in a cold voice. Nabiki nodded again in confirmation, although Kasumi paid her no mind. The older girl held her left hand before her. It began to glow, suffused as it was with energy. "We're going out tomorrow night." There was no question in her tone.
"Ba-chan?" asked Nabiki.
"Ring and let her know. I'll think she'll make an exception for me in these circumstances," responded the taller as she unceremoniously stood and stepped out of the water. Nabiki didn't respond. "Goodnight."
--
4.05am
It was habit more than any sense of urgency that caused Konatsu to make a sweep of the surrounding area before entering the Ucchan. And now, as he cradled Ukyo in his arms, he blessed that same habit that had allowed him to find her, unconscious but alive, laying facedown in an alley some two hundred metres away from the restaurant. Long, bounding strides brought them closer to the nearest hospital. But Konatsu feared that whatever had happened to his Mistress - his best friend, was beyond mundane medical aid.
Her breath on his neck abruptly ceased and the Kunoichi wailed as he literally felt the life begin to ebb out of the girl. Falling to his knees on a rooftop, the ninja hugged his love's limp form to his as he cried.
His grief was abruptly cut short as he felt a strange and deeply malevolent presence make itself known. Konatsu turned his tear smudged face to the dark form that appeared from within the unsettling miasma.
He sobbed as he glanced back down at Ukyo's drawn face.
"She's going to die, girl," declared the figure in a deep voice.
"No…" gasped Konatsu, knowing that it was true. "I love her! She can't -"
"I can save her."
"What?" replied Konatsu, new hope animating him.
"I said that I can save her," repeated the sinister voice. "For a price."
"What price?" demanded Konatsu, desperation prevalent in his tone. Although its face was concealed in shadow atop the roof, a malign smile seemed visible on it face.
"I assume that she would want you to assume authority of her affairs in this situation?" Sneered the voice.
At that moment, Konatsu's mind flipped as a horrible possibility presented itself.
"Was it you? Was it you who did this to her?"
"No," came the answer. "I don't do that," it added almost distastefully. "Now, answer the question," it demanded.
"Yes," implored Konatsu, not caring if Ukyo would have hoped for Ranma to be the one to make this this decision. "I don't care what you want from me. Just save her! Please!" he begged.
"It's a deal, girl. Put her down," instructed the figure approaching closer. Not much taller than Ukyo, with features unknown to the ninja, the 'man' knelt down smoothly. "We haven't much time to save your pretty chef." Experienced eyes glanced at Konatsu. "Just know that afterward, both of you must leave Nerima for a time."
"Is that your price?" asked Konatsu as the man placed his righthand on Ukyo's form.
"That's just a fact of life," sniggered the man, scratching at his clean-shaven face. "But the price… that's where it gets interesting."
