Author's Note: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's nice to know my work is being appreciated. I know the story is going a little slow, and after reading some of the reviews I know you'd all like to have more information about the plot, but the only thing I can say is to be patient. All will be revealed in time.
Legal Notice: Ranma ½ is copyrighted to Rumiko Takahashi. All characters portrayed are her property except for the ones I created.
Mousse watched with mild curiosity as a group of construction workers busied themselves repairing the building across the street from where he sat. The building was unremarkable, plain brick with many windows and porches; an apartment most likely. What caught his attention was the way it was being repaired. The workers were all over it, on the roof, on the ground, and inside. It didn't look like a gas main exploded, there was no evidence of a fire and the damage was too sporadic. There were no reports of an earthquake in the recent news and the foundation of the building didn't look like it was damaged. It was as though someone had jumped all over it while smashing the walls with a large hammer. Buildings in the immediate area surrounding the apartment were damaged in the same way, along with parts of the sidewalk and street. Odd.
Putting down the newspaper he finished reading, Mousse studied his surroundings one more time. Nerima seemed normal enough. Mothers chatted with each other while their young children played in the park, groups of teenagers loitered around the various shops lining the road, and salarymen were getting off for their lunch break. His attire earned him some glances, but nothing else. The inhabitants gave him a brief look and went back to whatever they were doing, as though nothing were out of the ordinary.
Mousse leaned back against the bench and frowned. There was something strange about Nerima. There was a tension in the air, as though everyone who lived there were holding their breath, expecting something to happen. The closest thing he could compare it to were areas that were prone to attacks by terrorists. And seeing the people so seemingly carefree about it did little to ease his mind.
Mousse stood up and started walking, throwing the newspaper into a nearby trashcan. The local news told him nothing. He snorted. He never did like this country. The people were nice enough, even if the older ones tended to be xenophobic, but the government was outright insulting to foreigners. He grimaced as he remembered the embarrassing situation at customs involving the metal detector and his detention in one of their holding facilities. After a little friendly persuasion the officials were kind enough to let him go without reporting the incident, but something told him his stay would go along much smoother if he just took the time to create a fake persona in the Japanese national database.
A low rumbling in the distance made him look up, as drops of rain fell on his face. Dark thunderheads covered the sky ominously while jagged bolts of lightning flashed in the distance. The sky was clear a moment ago. He looked at the inhabitants and once again they acted as though nothing were amiss, and simply made their way to cover.
This place is getting to me, he thought. He checked both sides of the street looking for cars before he passed. There were none. That was also strange about Nerima. As soon as he entered the ward it seemed that all cars simply disappeared. He had not seen one car or any other vehicle since he came here.
The rain was coming down in torrents by the time he made it to cover. He stood alone under the awning of a nearby shop, thinking about all he had seen, when he heard a cry of dismay. He turned his head to see a woman in the rain dressed in a traditional kimono desperately trying to keep her balance on one foot while holding a long, curved object wrapped in cloth and a bag of groceries.
Mousse watched detachedly for a moment, analyzing what he was seeing, before walking up to the woman and steadying her with a hand.
"Are you alright ma'am?" he asked.
She looked up at him, grateful for the support. "Yes, thank you young man. Oh dear, I seem to have lost my slipper back there."
Mousse walked back and retrieved the slipper. "Let me hold those for you while you put that on, ma'am," he said. She smiled thankfully and handed him the bag and the bundle while she put her slipper back on.
They made their way back under the awning just as the rain began to come down even harder. Mousse set his burden down and stood, combing his wet hair back away from his face with his fingers. He held up a lock of wet hair. It would take a while for it to dry.
"Thank you again for your help, young man." The woman smiled.
Mousse smiled back slightly. She was older than him, maybe in her mid to late thirties, but still very attractive, with red hair that was so rare in Asian people put up in a bun.
"It was my pleasure, ma'am," he said, bowing.
"My, how polite!" She laughed. "Oh by the way, is this yours? I found it on the ground."
She held a small silver medallion in front of him. Mousse quickly felt at the small braid tied in his hair, feeling one of them was missing.
"Yes, thank you ma'am," he said, taking it from her and tying it with the other three medallions in the braid.
"Those are very nice," she said, admiring the elaborately engraved discs.
"Thank you, ma'am. They were a present from my grandmother in China," he replied, flicking them with a finger.
"Really? Did you live there? Your Japanese is very good so I thought you were from around here," she asked, untying her hair and letting it fall naturally so it could dry out.
He shook his head. "I was born there, but moved to America when I was young with my uncle. I'm just here in Japan to see an old friend of mine. Do you live nearby, Mrs.…?"
"Oh of course, I'm sorry," she apologized. "My name is Saotome Nodoka."
"It's a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Saotome," he said, bowing again. "My name is Sun Mu Tzu."
"Please Mousse, there's no need to be so polite," she laughed. "Call me Nodoka."
Mousse smiled. Even if she did mangle his name like most Japanese, he didn't mind it so much.
Nodoka looked out into the rain and sighed. "I was hoping to make it home on time to prepare lunch. I guess they'll just have to go hungry for a while."
"If it's an umbrella you need…" He made a quick gesture with his hands and an umbrella appeared out of thin air.
Nodoka clapped her hands delightedly. "What a wonderful trick Mousse! Was your uncle also a magician?"
Mousse shook his head. "No, my father taught me that." He paused for a moment before finally coming to a decision. "Here, you hold the umbrella and I'll carry your belongings."
"Oh no Mousse, you've already helped so much and…"
"I insist Mrs. Saotome," he said, handing her the umbrella and picking up the grocery bag and the wrapped bundle. "Besides, I don't think you can carry that umbrella and these things at the same time."
"Well, if it's not too much trouble for you…"
"No trouble at all. There's still some time before I have to meet my friend, so I'll just help you to your house and be on my way."
"Okay, but stay close under the umbrella, I don't want you getting wet and catching a cold."
Mousse only half listened to Nodoka talk as they walked through the rain. His attention was focused on the sword he was carrying. He knew it was a sword the moment he saw it, though it was wrapped in cloth. As soon as he held the bundle he knew it was a good one too, not one of those stainless steel pieces of crap that pseudo martial arts companies sell out of catalogues, but a real sword, forged by a master. He wondered briefly why anyone would carry a sword around like that, but then again, in a place like this he supposed no one could blame her.
"Mousse?"
Mousse blinked, startled. "Sorry ma'am, I drifted off there for a second. You were saying?"
"I was just saying how much you remind me of my son. Are you a martial artist?"
Mousse stumbled for a moment, but quickly recovered his balance. Does she know? "Why do you say that Mrs. Saotome?"
"I told you Mousse, call me Nodoka," she chided him laughingly. "I don't know. There's just something about you that reminds me of Ranma and all the other martial artists around here. It's like an aura around you that's different from other people. So are you a martial artist?"
He relaxed. "Well, I've had some training, but I don't think it's enough to actually call me a martial artist," he said. "So, your son's name is Ranma?"
"Yes, he's around your age I think," she said. "Would you like to meet him, I'm sure you two would get along fine. Maybe if you still have time you'd like for him to teach you some martial arts? He's very good."
"Maybe I would," he said, smiling slowly. The idea of a friendly sparring match, even if his opponent was hopelessly outclassed, appealed to him. "Yes, I think I'd like that."
A few more minutes of idle conversation and walking passed by before Nodoka stopped. In front of them was a large dojo built in the old fashion of the days of the samurai. In other words, it was a small fortress. High walls at least meter taller than Mousse surrounded the perimeter and a large, wooden double-door gate lay open before them. Mousse could see a large house and lawn, even by western standards, in front of him and an even larger training hall to the right.
"Here we are," Nodoka said cheerily.
Mousse glanced at the wooden sign nailed to the wall. Tendo School of Anything Goes Martial Arts.
"You live here with the Tendos?" he inquired.
"Yes, they're close friends of the family," she replied with the same cheery voice. "They are letting us stay here until my home is repaired."
Mousse briefly thought about the apartment he saw earlier, but before he could ask about it Nodoka was already speaking.
"Come on Mousse, we shouldn't stand out in the rain like this!"
The interior of the house was just as spacious as it looked outside, easily large enough to fit two families.
"Hello?" Nodoka called, frowning when no one answered. She turned back to Mousse, who had set down the bundles to remove his boots. "It seems no one is here yet. That gives me time to cook, but I was hoping to introduce you to everyone. Oh, please Mousse, let me get those."
Mousse shook his head, removing the last boot and picking the groceries and sword back up. "No it's alright, I'll just put these in the kitchen and I'll be on my way."
"No, I'll get those Mousse. You go upstairs to the bathroom, it's the first door on the left," she said, taking them from his arms.
"But ma'am…"
"No buts, Mousse. Look at you, you're soaking wet! Were you staying under the umbrella like I told you?" She gave him a stern look.
"Well, the umbrella was kind of small, and I didn't want to crowd you…" Mousse trailed off.
"You shouldn't have worried about that, Mousse. I wouldn't be a good hostess if I let a guest catch a cold, now would I?" she asked.
"I guess not ma'am, but…"
"Good, now go upstairs and dry off. I'll go prepare some tea for you," she said, turning and walking into the kitchen.
Mousse stood there for a moment, slightly confused over what just happened. Being fussed over as though he were still a child was a strange experience. He hadn't been treated like that since… A pained expression passed across his face. Best not to think about it.
He trudged up the stairs, trying to focus his attention on his surroundings rather than his memories. As neat and clean as the place was, spotless actually, he could see that parts of the walls and floor were made of newer material than the rest, as though they were broken and then repaired on a regular basis.
Mean termites they got around here. He thought to himself.
The bathroom was large, like the rest of the house, with a tile floor that depressed slightly towards a drain in the middle. Mousse frowned slightly as he looked at himself in the mirror. His long hair was plastered to the side of his head and shoulders and his coat was dripping water.
He shed his coat and rubbed the hem of it between his fingers. The material was completely soaked through. His solid black, longsleeve shirt and black pants were also wet.
Might as well change while I'm here. He reached in and pulled out a matching set of dry black clothes, with an oilskin version of the coat he was holding. After drying his hair with a nearby towel, he peeled off his wet shirt and pants and toweled off any water left on his body. He put on the dry clothing and stuffed the wet ones into his coat. Pulling out a comb, he faced the mirror and proceeded to straighten out his hair. It was then that he noticed the girl in the bathtub.
Mousse stared, not sure if he was seeing right and wiped the mirror with his hand. She was still there. She was pretty, with short, neatly clipped brown hair ending just above the ears. She stared back at him with half-lidded eyes, an analytical expression on her face. Her eyes moved over him up and down once and her lips curled up in a slight smile.
Mousse stood there, frozen in mid-comb, still not sure what was happening. Aw, shit.
He opened his mouth to apologize and say he would leave right now, but he didn't get the chance. "Can you hand me a towel?" she asked.
Mousse blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said, 'Can you hand me a towel?' You used mine," she said, wading forward until she could put her arms over the edge of the tub. She was still smiling.
"Oh, ah, sure," he stammered, and opened the towel closet. He pulled out a towel and turned back, keeping his eyes carefully averted this time. "Do you just want me to leave it here?"
"Give it to me," came his response.
Mousse hesitated, startled, but then swallowed and walked forward with the towel held out in front of him, keeping his eyes away and on the ground.
"Thank you," she said as she took the towel from him. Then she stood up.
Mousse almost choked as he caught a glimpse of her nude form from the corner of his eye. He flushed and immediately turned around, trying to remember how to walk to the exit. His ears caught the sound of humming as the girl slowly dried herself off.
After what seemed to be an eternity, she stopped humming and walked to the door. He looked up to see if she was gone and instead got a good look at the backside of her slim form, the towel hugging her curves and revealing long, slender legs.
When she was finally out of sight, Mousse let his breath out in a rush of air. He didn't realize he was holding it.
He stood there for a moment, trying to comprehend what happened, but then clenched his teeth and shook his head. He turned to face the mirror. He couldn't believe how easily he had been caught off guard. After recovering his composure, he combed out his hair and straightened his coat. He looked into the mirror on last time, making sure everything was perfect, before heading down.
The girl was in the living room lying on the floor, an open magazine in front of her. He paused as she glanced up. She looked at him for a brief moment, as if merely noting his presence, before turning her attention back to the magazine.
He stood there, unsure of what to do, when Nodoka came out of the kitchen.
"There you are Mousse." She smiled. "Was everything alright?"
"Yeah, everything was good," he replied. He glanced at the girl and found her looking up from her magazine and staring at him.
"Good, good," Nodoka said. "By the way Mousse, have you met Nabiki?"
"We've met, Auntie," the girl said, her eyes glinting as she looked at him.
Silence fell between the three. Mousse stood stock still while Nabiki continued staring at him. Nodoka got a thoughtful look in her eye.
"Well then, I'll just leave you two here while I go dry off," Nodoka said, and went up the stairs.
Mousse continued standing while Nabiki smiled. "Are you going to stand there all day?" she asked.
Mousse started, then shook his head and sat in front of her a good distance away. Nabiki sat up with her legs tucked under her and moved a little closer to him.
"That was a nice show you put on there Mousse," she said, a grin on her face. "You do parties?"
Mousse's face turned a deep red. He knew she wasn't talking about the way he pulled all those clothes out of his coat.
Next time, remember to wear boxers, he thought to himself.
He cleared his throat. "I'm really sorry about that Miss Tendo, it was…" he started.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about that Mousse, it happens all the time around here. And call me Nabiki."
His eyes widened in surprise. "It does? Well, still I want to apologize for intruding on your bath."
"I said don't worry about it, it's alright." She leaned forward and smiled wickedly. "Besides, the floorshow more than made up for it."
This time so much blood rushed to Mousse's face he thought his head was going to explode.
"You're a martial artist," Nabiki said, more statement than question.
Mousse started. "You can tell?"
"With a body like that, you're either a martial artist or an Olympic athlete," she said blandly. "And since you're here in Nerima, I'm betting you're a martial artist."
"Okay, so what if I am," he said a little suspiciously, not minding her reference to the incident in the bathroom. If she knew what was going on in this place…
"It means you must want to see Ranma," she replied.
"Why would I want to see Ranma? Is he important?" he asked.
A surprised expression flitted across Nabiki's face before settling back into her normal appraising one. "You mean you don't know who Ranma is?" she asked, a hint of incredulousness in her voice.
When Mousse shook his head she stared at him for a moment then shrugged and pulled something out of her pocket. "My business card. You'll be needing it."
Mousse took it and read the inscription. Tendo Information Services.
"My number's on the back," she said. "If you need to know anything about anybody, just call."
Mousse looked at it confusedly before making it disappear in his sleeve. It might be good to have an informant in a place like this.
"Can you tell me something now?" he asked.
She paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Sure, why not. You didn't see my show so I suppose I owe you something."
"Alright, I just need to…," he began but paused as he went over what he just heard. "Did you say 'your show?'"
"Sure," she said, grinning. "I figured one good turn deserved another so I thought I'd return the favor. Since you didn't look I think I still owe you."
"Oh," was all Mousse could manage. His face was so hot he wondered why his hair hadn't caught on fire yet. He coughed, and then continued. "So anyway, do you know where I can find Khu Lon?"
"I suppose you mean Cologne, the Amazon," Nabiki said. All humor disappeared to be replaced by a cool, businesslike attitude.
"Yes," Mousse said, abruptly leaning forward, a feverish gleam in his eyes. "Do you know where I can find her?"
Nabiki leaned back, surprised at his sudden change in behavior and a little frightened at the look in his eye. "Yeah, she's at the Cat Café. It's about three blocks down the road and to the left."
Mousse nodded and smiled coldly, his hand reaching up to touch his throat. "Thank you very much, Nabiki."
Nabiki nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. He wasn't looking at her now, he just sat there with a strange look in his eye and his hand to his throat.
At that moment Nodoka came down the stairs, dry and dressed in a new kimono.
Mousse stood up as she came in. He bowed. "Thank you for your hospitality, Nodoka, but I'm afraid I must be going. I don't want to be late."
"Are you sure you can't stay for a while Mousse?" Nodoka asked, disappointed. "Just for a cup of tea?"
Mousse shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Nodoka, but thank you for asking."
"You will come back to visit sometime, won't you Mousse?"
"I'm sure I'll be back to visit sometime," he said, briefly looking at Nabiki. "In fact I'm absolutely sure I'll be back."
Nodoka looked at Mousse and then at Nabiki, a knowing smile forming on her face. "Well you're always welcome here. Good bye, Mousse!" she called as he walked down the street. He stopped to wave back and continued on his way.
Two blocks down the street, Mousse began thinking about his visit in the Tendo household. It was a strange place, but no stranger than the rest of the town. His thoughts kept going back to Nabiki, and the image of her in clad in the bath towel refused to leave his mind.
He also thought about how she managed to keep him off balance the entire time they were conversing. Not many people could do that.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus on what's important now.
She was close now, he could feel it. He smiled. I'm coming for you Khu Lon.
Back in the Tendo home, Nodoka shut the door and knelt beside Nabiki, who was back to reading her magazine.
"That Mousse is such a nice boy, don't you think Nabiki," she said.
Nabiki made a noncommittal sound and continued reading.
"He's so polite," Nodoka continued. "Handsome too. He has such nice hair."
Nabiki rolled onto her side and looked at her. "If I didn't know better, Auntie, I'd say you were trying to set me up with Mousse." Her expression turned mischievous. "Unless it's you who wants him…"
"Nabiki, I'm a married woman! No, I'm just pointing out how nice he is. And he will be back sometime…"
Nabiki shrugged. "We'll see."
Nodoka smiled, satisfied, and got up.
Waiting until Nodoka went to the kitchen, Nabiki rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, thinking. Nodoka was right though. He was handsome. Very handsome. She thought about how he looked in the bathroom, all lean, tight muscle with long, flowing hair and the most stunning green eyes she had ever seen. And she liked it when he blushed.
She frowned. But there was something else about him, something that frightened her. As soon as she mentioned Cologne, he transformed from a nervous young man to a predator. At that moment she knew he was extremely dangerous, she felt it inside to her very core.
Then again, maybe it wasn't so bad. That sense of danger about him was thrilling in a way. And of course, there was the possibility some cash could be made from this. Things have gotten too quiet ever since the failed wedding between her sister and Ranma.
She smiled. This could be interesting.