Broken
Shadow Knight
Chapter 16: Spider Bites
Disclaimer: Don't own it. . . sniff. . . . it's true
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The shop's blackened awning quivered at the cold wind's passing. Darkened by age and neglect, it was forgotten by all but remembered just as well. The small shop had certainly lost its luster and customers to time.
Swinging limply in the grasp of the wind, a rusted lock hung, broken long ago. A great THWACK sounded; a board smacked sharply against the glass of the door. Whether a prank, or just great irony the sign read, "Be back in 20 minutes!"
Graffiti illustrated the walls of the building and the wind whistled dreadfully through a hole in the glass. As the awning finally settled back into its place, a hand reached and scratched at the scum. "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki" was plastered dimly beneath the many layers.
"What happened?"
The questioned was posed to no one, save time. A pale, harrowed face reflected in the dingy glass bespoke of the scars seen not by the naked eye, but hidden away, deep in the soul. Turning away with a sigh, the figure let fingers slide down the glass. "It's seems like I really was only gone for 20 minutes. . ."
Why she had returned, she didn't know. She felt something pulling her here. It was as if a force had dragged her back, as if for something to come. She didn't want to be back here, but. . . she felt like there was some piece left un laid, some part of her life missing. Never did she think that she would need to come back.
Ukyo was finished here.
This life. . . was dead and she had started a new one. Her life had taken her somewhere else. "I still don't know how I managed to do it," she mumbled to herself with a wry grin.
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After Akane had left, things just. . . didn't seem the same. The race for Ranma had broken down. She knew that she wasn't the one for him and when that flame she had loved in Ranma's eyes blew out that night, she knew he was gone. Ukyo had no chance. . . no one did. She had always feared that Ranma secretly cared for Akane the most, heck, even deep down she knew it was so, but still, she had hoped, just a little, that he held some candle for her.
But that candle was never held. It was just her imagination. One night, she had finally looked into the face of truth.
When she finished closing up the shop one night, she sat down to sort her life out. She was almost through two decades of her life . . . and what did she have? A restaurant. A small, restaurant that she barely scrapped by with. That was it. She had never thought once about what she would do if she never married Ranma in the end. That had never been a factor in the equation. It was just. . . unreal. It was like ripping out the heart of a person and expecting them to live on. It just couldn't happen.
That's when reality struck inside her quiet heart. She felt tears prick her eyes and quietly laid her head on the counter. It soothed the burning in her cheeks as she tried to let the pain ride out. What a fool she had been! This wasn't a fun, happy little game anymore. As she lay there, breathing slowly onto the counter, her cheek pressed lightly on the surface, she wondered out loud, "What do I do without Ranma? I've always depended on him. But now. . . now he's gone."
She shut her eyes and tried to stay calm. A violent tempest rocked the walls of her heart, trying to rip the threads of her life apart. She had been wiping away tears, but now she let them fall, sliding along the curve of her flared nostrils. Damn it all! Why did she have to suffer like this! Every time she got close to this man of her dreams she got hurt!
The realization hit her suddenly.
Ukyo raised her head and stared intensely at the grill behind the counter. Ranma. . . . he. . wasn't part of the solution. . . he never had been. He was never supposed to be a factor. She should have seen the signs. The fact that he never quite liked her more than a friend, that he never cared to show anything more than what he thought a friend might deserve. . . . He was never supposed to be with her. The trouble she had had with him before as a child and thereon after should have been hints. And she had missed them!
Her fingers suddenly took hold of a dishcloth near her. Subconsciously she began twisting it. Ukyo really hadn't seen Ranma in a while since Akane had left. In fact, the one time she went to go check on him, he never moved. He didn't speak to her either. Staring at him had been like. . . . watching a doll. It had disturbed her quite badly. The fighting spirit that he was so famed for in the past was now a like a broken twig, fragile and unstable.
That was when she knew that she had to get away. Away from Nermia and away from Ranma. She had to start anew. She quickly packed her things, closed the shop, and went to the airport.
She arrived with one bag at her side and a fistful of bills. When the personnel asked her where she wished to go, they noticed that she seemed distracted. She turned sad eyes to them and mumbled the words, "Far away. Far, far away."
They had seen her kind before. Leading her to a private backroom, they quickly made a passport for her. She didn't really care where they sent her. Frankly, she didn't even mind that they were sending her off the island. She just wanted to go away.
So they stamped her ticket and pointed her to the gates. As Ukyo was stepped to the front of the line to hand her ticket to the worker she was blank. The worker checked her ticket quickly and stamped it once again. Smiling cheerfully, the worker said brightly, "Have a nice visit to New York City."
As Ukyo passed through the gate into the plane, she wondered aimlessly, "Where the heck is New York City?"
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And that was where she had been for these past few years. New York City. . . .what an. . . interesting place. Ukyo found that she didn't even need to give up okonomiyaki. It was a perfect spot. Not many people knew of the style pizza. And with such a wide variety of the Italian style, it had been the perfect chance to introduce the Japanese style.
Surprisingly, her business had boomed. She had many offers to make her business a franchise, but she declined, she wanted only to stay as one shop. And what a shop it was. Ukyo smiled. Yup, her little restaurant wasn't so little anymore. She turned and took one last glance at the dusty and broken windows. A frown dimmed Ukyo's face a bit. She had forgotten all about Nermia for a while. It seemed like it had been so long.
Turning away, she smiled a bit. Ukyo had a new life now. And she was more thankful for it everyday. She quickly slipped into her red car and slipped down the street. She had one more stop. As she grew closer to her destination, she felt an ominous storm brew within her. This last stop was going to be hard. Much harder than seeing her broken down shop.
She was going to see the boy she had once loved.
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". . . anma. . ."
A breath was whispered in the air, perceived in a half conscious state as a soft lullaby.
"Ran. . . ."
It tickled the ear that had been hardened to all sweet sympathies and enticed a feeling that had been forgotten.
"Ranmaaaaaa. . ."
Suddenly where pale, heavy eyelids were, two azure diskettes flooded the area and darted wildly back and forth. Trembling lips gave way to a harsh, quick breath, like that of an animal frightened. As the aged youth searched fervently for the source, a dark dawning drew lines upon the smooth brow. Relaxing back into a sitting position, the tubes connected to the thin arms were put back into place and continued to pump the clear fluid into the patient's arm.
Large, calloused hands suddenly slithered through a sheet of raven strands. Staring blankly at the ground, the once hopeful eyes were now dull and lifeless. "Why do I torture myself like this? She's never coming back. . . . not to a monster. . ."
The once strong, masculine voice was now bitter and sad. This was a broken man, a soul split by urging tendencies to leave the world and stay, strung thinly by a futile hope. So was how the warrior became a decaying mess. He let his eyes stray to the limp tube connecting his arm to the dripping IV fluid. What a pathetic piece of crap I've become, he thought aimlessly.
"I've become so weak," he muttered, flexing his hand slowly, "but. . . .somehow it doesn't matter."
Ranma knew what he had become. He realized the wreck he had made of his life since that fatal day. With that one mistake, he had lost everything. He lost the one thing that made him want to breathe every day. He had lost her.
"Akane," he breathed, burying his face in his hands.
Oh how he missed her! He missed everything about her. Her voice, her presence, her scent. . .He even missed fighting with her. Ranma curled his hands into fists. He would do anything. . anything if he could just see her again. After a brief pause he turned and with slow, but agile movements, he made his way to an empty corner in the room. Scraping his thin fingernails under the edges of a worn board on the floor, he pulled it out of the floor with a slight huff.
He cast aside the board and reached into the hole made through the floorboards. From his emaciated fingers dangled a thick wad of hair, slinking silkily along his hand. A blue bow gathered the strands in a bundle as he brought the hair to his face. He was calm for a moment as he breathed in the scent of lilies, faint from age. And for one moment, just one minute, she was there once again. He could see her now, smiling as she stared back at him.
"Oh Akane. . . ," he breathed fervently, his eyelids drooping in submission of a hopeless fantasy.
"Ranma," he could hear her saying, with an amused grin, "Don't stand there like a grinning dope all day. We've got to get going or we'll be late for school again."
If only this was real! He wanted to scream and reject the vision before him, but a stirring in his heart refused the notion and indecision paralyzed him. Ranma watched as Akane raised an inquiring eyebrow at his lack of response. Turning forward, she spoke to him with a sigh, "Alright. If you're just going to stand there all day, I'm going without you. I'll see you at school. . . maybe."
He watched her jog forward to school, her skirt hem flapping in the wind as a waving good-bye. Suddenly, he was galvanized into action, his muscles overcoming the paralysis. Ranma ran as fast as he could, his thighs burning from exhaustion, crying for oxygen as he forced himself to run faster.
"Akane, wait!" he screamed out to her, reaching out for her, a vision of blue.
He had seen this so many times. He experienced this sardonic dream that only made him crawl deeper into himself. Ranma never reached her. She always faded out of sight and then he woke up. But. . . maybe this time, he hoped as he felt a burst of renewed energy, maybe this time I can reach her.
Suddenly he was there, only inches away, his hand within reach of her shoulder. A joy filled his heart as he reached out for her. This was it! No more of this nightmare, he was going to conquer it once and for all!
Just as he touched her blurred shoulder, he felt her body explode under his fingertips. The vision that was once the girl he loved burst into a million petals, floating silently and slowly to the ground, as if ripped from the rose.
"No. . . this can't be. . . NO!"
This had never happened before. Nor did he ever think that once he accomplished the goal in his dreams that such a terrible end would be awaiting him. She had to still be here, somewhere. She had to be.
Ranma sank to his knees in the pool of crimson petals. As he blindly scrambled through the abyss, he cried out. The petals suddenly began to burst into flame at his touch, biting painfully at his fingers. One by one they flared up like Chinese firecrackers, coiling around him in a spiral until he sat amongst a pile of black ash, dissolving with the faintest breath. He felt a burning ire within the air, unseen, but felt with a terrible vengeance.
With a shudder he backed away from the ashes. Just then, a change seemed to come over the burnt ruins. They seemed to be. . . . melding together, forming something. . . or someone. Ranma wiped at his eyes with smudged fingers, trying to see the truth in this all. Yet as he cleared his bleary eyes, his breath stopped short and he stared in wonder.
A figure stood before him. The skin, if it could be called that, seemed to be constantly changing, warping from one shade of darkness to another with a liquid fluidity. Long wisps of ashes formed wild strands of hair that sprang from the shadowy head as if snakes awakened for the hunt.
As Ranma stood, watching the birth of this terrifying creature, he felt a seed of fear burrow in his gut. And as the creature opened a pair of golden eyes to the world, he felt that seed blossom. His feet stood rooted to the ground as the eyes narrowed on him. A bead of sweat trickled down his clammy brow as he attempted to breathe. Abruptly, the creature lunged at him, reaching with dark fingers for his throat-
And then Ranma was back again.
He blinked for a few moments, the fuzz around his mind thinning into the gloomy world he called reality. His breathing was choked as he stared at the blank wall, eyes wide and vacant. Slowly, he pulled the wad of hair to his face and breathed into the hair, his breath choked by tears that he refused to let flow.
"Akane, where are you?" he whispered through the silky strands.
Suddenly he felt a cold gust sweep down his arms. Looking up he saw the window was open, the curtains reaching toward him with pregnant billowing. Dropping the hair, he stood and quickly came to the window, shoving the pane down. That's weird, he thought absently, I don't remember the window being op-
Turning, his muscles froze as he stared before him. Lips quivering, he fell to the ground and looked at the ground. Upon the wooden floorboards, a message was scrawled hastily by the strewn strands of hair, "I am here."
Puzzled at what the message could mean, but more at the fact that someone had been in his room unnoticed, he brushed the silky strands aside to see if there was something more. As he did so, his fingers were prickled by a rough groove in the wood. Curious, he picked up the hair carefully.
Engraved into the floor with jagged strokes was one word: Akane.
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The bell ringing in the silent afternoon was clear.
There was a momentary breadth between the curling blue smoke. She had forgotten the sound of the bell. Stiffness pulled at her joints as she slowly made her way to the front. For a moment, she wanted to simply yell that they were closed. Yet, she knew she couldn't. She simply couldn't.
Head down, she brushed some faded ashes off her clothes and with a harsh voice spat her words out as nicely as she could. "Welcome to the Neko Haten. Can I help you?"
"Yes. . . Please."
Hearing the strange voice made her pause and actually look up at the newcomer. Her pipe once again was stilled for a moment. Eyes wide for one moment suddenly scrunched into tight folds around beady eyes like a foliage for her suspicion. This person was familiar somehow. She couldn't pin point it but there was something. . .the empty smile and dark eyes. . . .it disturbed her.
"What would you like?" Her lips were pulled in a polite prim smile, but her eyes never left the shadowed face of the customer.
"Just a bowel of ramen if you please," a mouthful of white teeth bore down at her in a grin.
With a simple nod, she slowly made her way back to the kitchen. What was it that haunted her so about this strange person? Puffing harder on her pipe, she pulled on a small rope that sequenced a small bell upstairs. Starting a pot of water boiling, she took a quick glance at the body at the table. Although the customer's face was withdrawn behind a hood, she saw a few features. A thick braid slipped outside the engulfing hood. Wait. . . that red thread intertwined within the brain. . . it looked just like-
Suddenly she felt a presence behind her.
Cologne jerked from her observations and turned to her granddaughter. What a mess this child had become. Her once long violet hair was now clipped shortly just below her ears. The girl's daring style of clothing was also abandoned. Standing before her was not the same warrior she had trained as a younger woman. This person was dead both to the tribe and herself.
"Child, watch over this ramen and serve our customer out there," Cologne bade her coldly, refusing to look at the child.
Turning away, she grabbed her cane and made her way to the stairs. Feeling a twist in her heart, she turned to her granddaughter The mechanical movements did not ease her pain. Sighing heavily, she turned back to the stairs. "It wasn't supposed to be this way," she whispered to herself.
The pain that she hid so carefully from this dead grandchild of hers was becoming harder to bear.
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Setting a steaming bowl of ramen before the shadowed customer, the Amazon bowed politely and began to walk away.
"Why is a girl with so much life have a soul so empty?"
Shampoo's frame grew taunt at the remark, but she did not turn around to face the comment. She simply resumed her way back to the kitchen. After all, how could she explain her situation to a complete stranger? It wasn't in her place to relate the story anyways.
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her warrior instincts, so deeply branded in her made her twitch under the heavy weight, but she did not move. She was not an Amazon warrior anymore and had no right to retaliate.
"What happened to you. . . Xian Pu?"
All the colors in Shampoo's face were flushed as she heard her name spoken in the tongue that it was born on. The muscles in her face began to spasm and caused her lips to quiver. So familiar, this voice. . . . yet so strange. She stepped forward, out of the cradle of the hand and turned smoothly around.
The stranger's eyes darkened for a moment as she faced him and a pearly grin stretched once again across the face "That is you name, am I right? I only wanted to test it in the native dialect. Was I correct?"
Shampoo's tongue refused to move, but she slowly nodded. There was something about this person that truly disturbed her. She hadn't realized the depth of this feeling until she felt her flesh tingle at the mere glance of those eyes. For, within those eyes she saw a devil.
And that devil so badly wanted to strike.
Taking a step back, she watched, entranced as the dark eyes followed her movements. Forcing herself to look away, she realized she could take no more of this staring game in fear she would lose her cool completely.
With a stiff bow, she swiftly turned back to the kitchen.
"You should never turn your back on a stranger."
For just a beat, her heart skipped. It was only a whisper, but it caused her stomach to convulse. She could feel the warm breath hissing past her neck.
Shampoo could restrain herself no longer. With a half frightened yelp, she threw her body around to face the stranger.
But there was no one there.
A shiver shook her body as her eyes darted about the restaurant's interior. How could someone disappear that fast? There was no way. Unless. . .
"I said don't turn you back to me."
Shampoo yelped as a hand hit her square in the back, knocking her into some tables. Shaking her head, she braced herself in order to fight back. The figure began to rush at her when suddenly a voice came from upstairs.
"Shampoo, what's going on?"
The voice of her great-grandmother floated downstairs and diverted her attention for a moment. Turning back, she saw that the stranger had taken notice of the voice as well. An angry frown stretched across the face as the dark eyes glared at the steps, a hateful stare that made Shampoo fear for her great grandmother for a moment.
"I will be back," the stranger hissed through closed teeth, "You can count on that."
Bolting outside the door, the stranger disappeared from Shampoo's vision. The Amazon girl released a breath of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Pulling herself from up off the floor, she began to dust off her clothing and picking up a few of the knocked over tables.
"What happened Xian Pu?"
The voice that spoke behind her was cold and sharp, making her wince. Turning, she bowed lowly to her grandmother. "It was nothing great-grandmother. I simply slipped."
Cologne gave Shampoo a doubtful stare, but turned and went back to her room. Propping back op the last table, she let her careful façade drop.
There was something strangely familiar about that person. It had scratched at her brain the whole time she watched the stranger. The fact that this person had attacked her didn't help. It was almost like the person knew her from experience and was setting out with a personal vengeance against her.
Maybe she should tell her great grandmother. . . .
No, she decided as she cleaned off the last table. The woman already treated her like a stranger. There was no reason she should complicate matters more in their relationship.
For a moment, a thought briefly passed through her mind, causing her to pause. What if Mousse was still here? Would things be different? Would he defend her?
Again, she blew out the quivering hope and turned back to the kitchen, a defeated slump in her thin shoulders. Even if Mousse did come back, Shampoo couldn't hope to ask him to help her, to sweep her away from this hell she suffered. She had chosen her path when she had agreed to drug R-. . . him. The night after her hair was lost, Mousse had departed from the restaurant, never to be seen again.
For a while Shampoo thought it was just a trip to regain his strength without humiliation brought upon by the sight of his defeated state. Yet, after the first two weeks passed, her hopes had begun to wane. He had most likely left for other reason besides some broken bones. Mousse left because of the stain of her own humiliation.
After all, an Amazon woman with her hair cropped off, was no longer an Amazon.
She couldn't remember when she had told R-. . . Saotome the tale. That must have been why he had done it. Her title of a warrior was dragged through mud and snipped off along with her hair that night. It was an ancient tradition that the best of the warriors within the tribe were observed of their status by the length of one's hair. She had labored many years in order to allow her hair to grow out its length. After her feast defeat in battle, her hair was cut an inch. From then on, she never let herself suffer a loss to her Amazon sisters again.
Saotome must have realized this. As for Mousse. . . who would want to be caught chasing after a defeated Amazon? She was just another common female now. Shampoo was forbidden to fight back save for extreme defense. All other minor types of punishment she was forbidden to retaliate. The fact was that if Mousse had told her to be his wife. . . she would have no choice but to submit.
But no man, especially an Amazon male, would pick a broken doll where no challenge presented itself. She understood this perfectly.
No matter how much she hated this punishment, no matter how much she wanted to fight back, no matter how much she wanted to run away, she couldn't and wouldn't. This was her punishment and she would take it. She knew that her grandmother would never allow Shampoo to come to true harm or be whisked away by just any man. But, her grandmother would most definitely let Shampoo feel her wrath.
Climbing up the steps to her room, she dropped heavily onto her bed and tried to dream of the moment when her hair would be long once again, and she could wear the title of warrior without shame.
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"Kuno? You home?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Casting her heels aside, she closed the door behind her. A cigarette at her lips, she let her lighter give birth to a flame. With a sigh of pleasure, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. When had she started coming here? Kuno had always been a client of hers, but their relationship had become more intimate lately. She couldn't be too sure if he was using her or she was using him.
"Nabiki, girl, you fall for all the wrong ones," she muttered to herself behind a haze of smoke.
Having Kuno always buying pictures of Akane, Nabiki never expected him to tell her one day of his feelings for her. It was certainly odd to say in the least. She remembered it clearly though. There she was, waiting for him to hand her the money for the pictures and he looked up at her suddenly.
"Nabiki," his voice was soft as he looked her straight in the eye, "would you accept another form of payment this time?"
She was confused then, even now she was still in the dark about his sudden change. "Like what?"
And then his lips were on hers. Nabiki was stunned by this approach. So stunned in fact, that she didn't know what to do. Yet the faze didn't last long. She quickly pushed him away, dragging the back of her hand across her lips. "What the hell was that for!"
Nabiki watched him step closer to her, his lips trembling. "I'm sorry. I. . I don't know."
His face screwed up tightly and he slammed the door shut in her face.
They didn't talk for a while after that. But when news of Akane's disappearance spread all around Nerima, the meeting between them became imminent. He approached her a few weeks afterward when she was leaving the house.
A black limo slid up beside her. Her pace slowed to a stop, but she refused to turn toward the retracting window. Nabiki's frame was rigid as she heard those eyes stare at her. "What do you want, Kuno-san?" Her voice was sharp.
"Nabiki. . .get in the car. We need to talk."
Her face was blank as she turned to him. Crossing her arms, she glared at him. "You've got 5 minutes."
The door quickly opened and she slid inside over the Italian leather. Kuno sometimes did have good taste. They were quickly enshrouded in darkness, only the light inside the car allowed her to see Kuno's face. That's when she noticed the change.
"Nabiki. . I don't know how to explain it," his face drooped as if exhausted, "but I know that I need you. I need you more than ever now."
A pang hit her at his last few words. Now he needed her? What was she, a substitute for her sister? There was no way she would let him get away with that kind of shit.
"Stop the car."
The car quickly halted at her voice and Kuno's eyes lifted to hers, confusion written on his face. She gathered her purse and reached for the door. "I don't know what you think you're doing," she seethed through her teeth, "but I sure as hell don't appreciate it. You think just because you have money you can use me? Why I-"
She was suddenly stopped when Kuno kissed her once again. This was too much. But before she could push away, Kuno held her tightly and drew her into his arms. Nabiki tried to fight him, but her resolve quickly melted when she realized there was no other way. When she did so, he broke away for and looked at her.
"Listen Nabiki," he whispered, staring down into her eyes, "I don't know what to do right now. I'm confused and I need someone. I know that you're that someone. You can either accept that or not, but I will always go after you."
Nabiki for once in her life was completely dumbfounded. There were a million things she wanted to throw in his face. But. . . none of them seemed to form on her lips. She sat there, wondering what to do. Grabbing her purse once again, she opened the door and stepped out. Just as she was about to walk off, her wrist was caught in Kuno's hand.
She turned back and gazed at him mutely. "I mean it," he spoke softly, "I will never give up."
With a deft nod she slipped her wrist from his. Walking off she didn't even hear the car drive away. Nabiki was too preoccupied with these new emotions to be concerned with anything else.
Two days later she visited his house.
And now, as she sat on a silk couch she wondered to herself, "Is he really in love with me?" Or am I just a substitute? She supposed it didn't really matter. Love only complicated matters for her. Even thought she felt this way the money would keep rolling in if she continued to see Kuno. Another inhale led her to wonder, "Who's really the puppet in this story?"
Suddenly she heard a crash from upstairs and a loud yell.
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Kuno was a man of business now. He knew that and everyone else did. Nabiki Tendo especially. As he gazed in the full length mirror, he saw a man of stature and class. But he also saw a darker side lingering within the image.
It was his pathetic, emotional self.
Pulling at his tie, Kuno tried to brush off the lonesome demon bothering him. His conscience would not and could not bother him right now. He was about to meet a business partner and could not be feeling this way. Turning away from the mirror he was stunned when he heard a voice.
"Who are you?"
Whipping around lightly he looked in the mirror. The sad creature within stared back. This is silly he thought, wiping at the few beads of sweat on his brow. Turning once again he started off.
"Who are you?"
This time Kuno was sure he hadn't imagined that. His eyes searched frantically about the room for the source of the voice. No, there were no speakers or hidden persons. Growing agitated, Kuno decided to answer the question. Glaring in the mirror he said, "I'm Tatewaki Kuno, business stock holder and millionaire."
The eyes grew wide as he said this. "But. . who are you?"
Kuno's eyes narrowed for a moment before he sighed. "This is ridiculous. I know who I am and don't have to prove it to myself."
"Pathetic."
An angry smear of red grew across Kuno's mouth. "Come out and face me."
Looking around Kuno failed to notice a growing shadow within the mirror. Slowly the shadow became a form in the mirror. His eyes then began to take notice. He was startled by the form and backed away, grabbing a bokken from behind him.
"Who are you!"
Two dark eyes stared at him in the mirror, the face shadowed by a heavy hood. Suddenly Kuno felt a presence behind him, but he knew it was too late. A voice spat behind him, "I know all you dirty little secrets Tatewaki Kuno."
He tried to turn around and force a blow with his bokken into the intruder's stomach, but a hand clenched his throat and stopped such thoughts. Kuno struggled for breath as he felt the grip grow tighter. Although he still could not see the face, he saw what the intruder was doing in the mirror. Within this sight he could see the figure pull him closer and heard a harsh whisper. "You pathetic bastard. You put up such a front and yet cannot defend it. Worst of human life. Yet I digress. . . Relay a message for me, " the hand drew Kuno close, "Tell Ranma that an old friend is back in town and I'll be seeing him soon. Got that?"
Kuno, struggling with the iron clasp, nodded vigorously. "Good," the clamp released and he dropped to the floor.
Although Kuno was hurt, he would let his pride be hurt anymore. Before he hit the ground Kuno took a quick swipe with his bokken, hoping to throw the intruder backwards. Unfortunately for him, this was foreseen. Jumping over the wooden practice sword, the intruder suddenly threw out a swift kick to Kuno's forehead, knocking him backwards and letting him crash into the mirror.
A loud yell erupted from Kuno as he hit the glass, shattering the mirror into small pieces.
"Kuno!"
Warm blood trickled between his eyes as he looked up to the doorway. Standing there Nabiki was trying to catch her breath a wild and concerned look on her face. Seeing his condition, she immediately rushed over to him. "Kuno what happened?"
Kuno wanted to laugh at Nabiki's dribbling cigarette, sticking to her thick lipstick as it bobbled up and down with her speech. Yet he felt that if he did the pain would only be worse. Grabbing hold of her hand he spoke to her, "Tell Ranma that. . .that someone is back. . . .a friend and he'll meet him soon."
Nabiki flinched as she saw Kuno spit up some blood. Lying him down, she cleared away the glass and called for a medic. There was something really weird going on and she felt that whatever this was, it was going to make its big debut soon. Very soon.
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Okay, I know I haven't updated in forever, but here it is. So, so busy it's not funny. But I hope you guys enjoyed this. I also know that a lot of you wanted Akane to come back in this chapter. Well. . . in a way she did. I just afraid I'm at a major writer's block right now. I have an idea on how to continue, but I don't like where it leads to. It gets kind of fuzzy at that point.
Well anywho, there we are. No more am I to be on "Ranma's Unfinished Business" C2 list! Now if I can only update Dancing in the Dark. . . then I'll really be going somewhere. Besides that I hope you guys are satisfied. I really need to work out just how Akane's appearance is explained. I'm afraid that's my stalling point once again.
Thank you all for those who continue to review and encourage (or threaten) me to keep on working. It means a lot. THANKS!
Got any questions? Just ask and I'll try to answer them somehow.
'till next time,
Ciao. :P