It was raining when the man in black arrived in Nerima. Not a remarkable occurrence in itself, but it was coming down with a ferocity normally reserved for typhoon season. However, it didn't take a meteorologist to see what was causing it; a quick glance up would suffice. Red clouds covered the sky, churning against each other in a way that made them seem alive. Crimson lightning danced frenetically among the clouds, bathing the entire district in flickering red light.
Now that's a lot of chi up there, he thought, and took one last drag of the cigarette before tossing it. He knelt and lifted the hood of his poncho slightly. He let out the smoke in a single breath and watched as it swirled up. The tiny cloud of smoke lasted only a moment before it disappeared in the rain, but not before he saw it travel upward in a wispy spiral.
The man in black stood and pulled the hood back over his head. Hiryu Shoten Ha. That would explain the weather.
He walked alone among the debris of the battlefield, taking in the carnage. His quarry was here, once again beating him to a Matriarch and once again using the Burning Red. Though it seemed this time he got more than he bargained for by facing Cologne. Perhaps the long hunt was finally over.
However, his expression darkened the more he investigated the battlefield. He knew how Cologne fought and she was not one for long, drawn out affairs such as this fight. Even if the quarry was on the Red, she was a crafty enough fighter to have found some way to end it quickly, in her favor or otherwise. So that only left one other who knew the Hiryu Shoten Ha.
A glint caught his eye. He knelt and picked up the gun. He scowled and crushed the filthy weapon in his hands. His quarry was most definitely alive, he could feel it, but the same couldn't be said for Ranma. He would never be able to forgive himself if Ranma or anyone else here died at the hands of that madman. He threw the scrap of metal away and pulled out another cigarette. That boy attracted trouble as easily as he attracted women.
The man in black turned and made his way to the Tendo household. If Ranma were still alive, he would be there. How ironic that his quarry would lead him back home.
***
Ashes.
It was the only word Mousse could think of as he stared at his reflection.
Ashes.
He remembered a time long ago, a few years after Corbo saved him from starving to death in the Chinese wilderness, when he and the other children were brought in to see Ashes. Ashes, the man who invented the Red and the first to burn out on it. He remembered how Hugh's voice trembled as he told the story. How he described the look of ecstasy and pain on Ashes' face before he went up in flames. How the chi-fire flowed like water, blanketing the entire room in a hellish red glow. How when the fire died, all that was left was Ashes. His real name was David.
Mousse could still remember the soft swishing sound of the respirator keeping Ashes alive as Hugh regained his composure and listed the side effects of using the Red. Discoloration of skin and hair, internal hemorrhaging, emaciation, gran mal seizures, cerebral deterioration. Mousse was by no means religious, but as he stared into Ashes's eyes, he realized that those were just symptoms to a more sinister end that awaited anyone who used the Red. When you use the Red, you risk losing your soul.
Mousse couldn't remember how many quiet hours he spent seated beside Ashes, thinking. The others knew he was prone to fall into periods of deep, almost meditative thought, so he wasn't worried about arousing suspicion. They may have thought it was morbid curiosity that drew him there, or perhaps contemplation on the fragility of life. He spent those hours pondering whether it was worth using a tool that would cost him his soul to destroy those who had wronged him. In the end, he came to the realization that is wasn't too difficult of a decision to make. The Amazons had already killed a part of his soul. If the rest of it died while taking his revenge, then so be it.
Before he left, he unplugged the machine keeping Ashes alive.
"Can you raise your arms, sir?" murmured the doctor.
Mousse raised his arms, keeping his eyes on his reflection while the doctor continued wrapping the bandages around his torso. His gaunt, slat-ribbed torso. He counted off the number of ribs in his mind, now visible underneath taut, pale skin. Pale, except for where wounds old and new criss-crossed each other. The good doctor was taking great care to wrap the bandages light, for fear of breaking the new wounds open.
Mousse knew he had seen better days, but he also knew that he should count himself lucky. He paid the price for underestimating his opponent and second chances are hard to come by. He knew how close he was to losing it all; his life, his soul, his chance for retribution, all in a single fight. He would have laughed if not for the pain. A cocky transsexual martial artist from out of nowhere had come closer to killing him than any one of the Matriarchs. Life can throw some pretty mean curveballs at times.
The nurse moved aside a sweep of his hair, now an unnatural shade of black-flecked gray, to treat the bite wound on his neck. He drew in a sharp breath as she rubbed in the disinfectant.
Can't believe he actually bit me, he thought, gritting his teeth as the nurse cleaned the wound. Fucking psycho.
Mousse was disturbed by how much of the fight he couldn't remember. Most of it was nothing but a blur in his mind, with glaring blank spots scattered through it. The few parts he could remember were no less disturbing than the parts he couldn't. Ranma using Amazon techniques. The Chestnut Fist. The tornado that sucked away his chi. Ranma acting like a wild beast and almost ripping his head off. And through it all, the rage that permeated every fiber of his being. It would be easy to blame the Red, but the Red could only magnify whatever the user was feeling at the time. He shuddered. Even now, ten years after the fact, it was hard for him to accept the truly dark side of himself. The side that wanted nothing less than total annihilation of everything.
The doctor paused in his ministrations. "Does it hurt?
"It hurts all the time," Mousse replied. "Are you almost done?"
"I am now," he said, tying the last end of the bandage. "You should reconsider going to the hospital. These wounds are quite serious."
"That won't be necessary."
"Of course not," he muttered. "What do I know, I'm just a doctor."
Mousse was about to remind the good doctor that he was being paid to treat him, not offer an opinion, but the words died as white-hot pain shot up his neck. He hissed and whipped around to face the nurse, who had just removed a long needle from the bite wound. She backed up quickly in wide-eyed fear, stammering apologies, and so couldn't catch him when he fell. Bright spots of silver blossomed and danced in his vision. When the spots disappeared he found the doctor had caught him and was supporting his weight with ease. A few hours ago the doctor would never have been able to catch him like that. Mousse shrugged the doctor off and shot a baleful glare at the nurse.
"If you're done, I have a guest I must attend to," Mousse said, pulling on a robe.
The doctor sighed. "This is all I can do outside of the proper facilities."
"Then leave. Mori will pay you."
"Very well. Don't eat solid food for about a week and take it easy. If you need additional treatment you have my number." He cast a glance toward the bed. "Does the girl need help?"
"The girl is fine. Goodbye doctor."
The doctor looked as though he was about to say something else but just shook his head. Mousse watched in the mirror as the doctor and the nurse packed up and left. He wasn't worried about not fully recovering. Either he would or he wouldn't; it didn't concern him as long as he was still able to pay the Amazons in full for what they have done. He turned from the mirror and shuffled out of the bathroom. The girl was still sound asleep on the bed. Lucifer was curled up against her, purring contentedly. The kitten had taken quite a liking to her.
A flash of movement out of the corner of his vision caught his attention. He turned, slower this time, not wanting a repeat of what happened earlier. There was nothing. He glanced at Lucifer. It was still asleep, curled into a ball against Akane.
Mousse shook his head. I'm starting to see things. That can't be good.
He made his way past Akane's unconscious form to sit at the table placed beside a large window. A spectacular view of the city stretched out before him, the Tokyo skyline burning a fiery orange-red from the setting sun. He watched unmoving as sunset moved on into twilight. More memories came to him, as they always did when he wasn't occupied, ones that he would prefer remain buried. His brief, but violent childhood in the Amazon village. The death of his father in the senseless war with the Musk. The betrayal by the Matriarchs. What they did to him after. He couldn't suppress a shudder as night set in. The old fear stole over him, but he refused to move. It would be a scar that would stay with him for a long time after the Amazons were all dead, but he was determined not to let them have the satisfaction in knowing they had hurt him so deeply. Nonetheless, he was relieved when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he called.
The light came on as Mori walked in, bearing his dinner on a tray. The hotel staff refused to bring him room service after the incident where he almost decapitated a waiter with a rather large sword. Mousse thought they were being unreasonable. If the man had simply knocked before entering he wouldn't have had six feet of Scotch steel thrown at him. So much for 'the customer is always right.'
Mousse watched silently as Mori placed the tray in front of him. Mori kept his eyes down as he worked, placing silverware and napkin down and then removing the elaborately worked bell-shaped cover from the plate. A variety of fresh fruits were artfully arranged on it, meant to look as pleasing to the eye as they would taste to the tongue. When he was done he stepped off to the side silently. Mousse watched all this with a bemused expression.
"You can stop sulking, Mori," he said, taking a single grape and popping it in his mouth. "It's not a big deal."
"I failed you, sir," replied Mori, keeping his eyes downcast. "You could have died."
Mousse shrugged and popped another grape in his mouth. "Like I said, no big deal."
"But sir-"
"Let it go, Mori. That's an order."
Mori sighed. "Yes, sir."
Mousse pushed the plate aside and clasped his hands in front of him. "Now, I want you to send a couple men back to Nerima to pick up the weapons I left there. Tell them to do it quickly, I don't want them caught by the police or anyone else who might have an interest in what I'm doing."
Mori bowed and made for the door, but paused and turned back. "Sir…"
Mousse, now a little irate, spoke sharply. "What is it?"
Mori shifted his weight nervously, but didn't say anything.
Mousse noticed the old man kept glancing at the unconscious form on the bed. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to tell me something?"
Mori cleared his throat. "I was just wondering what you were going to do with the young lady." He cleared his throat again. "If you were going to… hurt her."
Mousse blinked and then laughed. He laughed hard enough to double over on the table. He only stopped when his body cried out in protest at the exertion.
"Oh Mori, you surprise me," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "I never figured an old hardass like yourself would have a soft spot for young girls. So what, you have a daughter, granddaughter? Maybe she reminds you of a ladyfriend you used to have way back when?"
Mori stiffened. "Sir, I assure you, I-"
Mousse cut him off with a waving of his hand. "Yeah I know, I know, I was just messing with you. Now go on, get out of here. I'm just going to ask our guest a few questions. I was never planning on hurting her."
Mori bowed and left, but not before Mousse saw a slightly relieved smile on his face. He shook his head. Just when you think you know a guy.
Mousse settled back into the chair and closed his eyes. Weariness settled like a blanket over his wasted body, but he forced himself to stay awake. There would be time enough for sleep later. He was telling the truth when he told Mori he wasn't going to hurt her. He'd had his fill of pain for the day. But that didn't mean he wouldn't give her a scare if she chose to be disagreeable.
He shifted into a more comfortable position in the chair and waited for her to awake.
***
Akane awoke to a silky purring sound. Her first sleep-filled thoughts were, We don't have a cat, and then the memory of what happened hit her in a headlong rush. She bolted upright, earning her a surprised mew from her sleeping companion. She whipped her head around, taking in her surroundings. The room was almost the size of her family's dojo, furnished in a western style. It was beautifully appointed but sparse, as though the owner had most of the furniture removed to make room. Even the bed she lay on, which was more than twice the size of her own, had no more than a pillow on it. Her breath caught when she saw said owner.
He sat at a table at the far end of the room, set next to a large porch window where she could see the darkening Tokyo skyline. He didn't appear to be moving. She leaned forward, squinting to get a better look at him in the softly lit room. Her eyes widened when she saw that his head was bowed forward in unconsciousness, his long gray hair obscuring his face. She leaned back slowly. It seemed too easy, but she knew that now would be the best time to attempt escape.
She climbed softly off the bed and set her feet on the soft maroon carpeting. A loud plaintive mewing behind her made her draw up in surprise. She turned and saw that the kitten that was sleeping next to her was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at her. She put her finger to her lips and made a shushing sound at it before continuing her silent way toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
She froze in mid-step and turned her head. Her captor was awake, looking at her with a slightly amused smile on his face. She glanced back toward the door. She was close enough that she didn't think he'd be able to catch her if she ran. And if he did catch her, she doubted he was in any shape for a fight. She glanced back at him. He shook his head, the amused look still on his face.
"Don't."
Akane tensed for a moment, considering her options, before her shoulders sagged in defeat. A feeling of weary déjà vu swept over her. Her mind turned to times when she was kidnapped. Pantyhose Taro, Kirin, the Bird People, and now this. She didn't know why she was even surprised. Once again she was reduced to being a prisoner, bait, or, she shuddered, a bride, and once again it would be up to Ranma to rescue her. That is, if he was still alive.
She took a seat across from him, where he watched her with curious green eyes. She stared back obstinately. Her eyes drifted behind him, where she could see the towering skyscrapers of the business sector of Tokyo. She wondered briefly where her captor had taken her, before turning her attention to him again.
"Well?" she asked.
He didn't answer, but reached to the side where a platter of fruits lay. He pulled it in front of him and picked out a small orange and began to peel it with long, bony fingers. Akane's eyes narrowed. He was in much worse shape than she thought. He reminded her of one of the people she saw on the television, who lived in such abject poverty and hunger they couldn't find the strength to brush away the flies that crowded around their wasted bodies. He looked much the same way, wearing a robe that seemed two sizes too big for him. While she did feel a small bit of concern for him, she knew that he was much stronger than he looked. But if he was hurt, there might be a chance that she could fight her way to freedom. She started when something small and furry jumped on to her lap. She looked down to see the black kitten curling up into a ball and falling fast asleep.
Mousse grinned. "I see Lucifer has taken a liking to you." He held out the half-peeled orange to her. "Orange slice?"
Akane shook her head. Any hope of escape by fighting was dashed. He may look weak now but his voice still carried enough strength that she knew she would lose if she tried to fight. But she was tired of being the victim. Maybe she couldn't fight him, but there were other ways to escape. Maybe she could-
"Why did you do it?" he asked.
Akane blinked. "Do what?"
"Sacrifice yourself," he replied, peeling off a section of orange. He popped it into his mouth, sucking the out the juice and then devouring the pulp.
"I couldn't let you keep hurting him. Why are you asking me this anyway? You got what you wanted, didn't you?" Akane said in a steely voice.
"No, I did not get what I wanted," he replied, peeling off another slice of orange.
"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely confused now. "You wanted me, didn't you?"
He smiled slightly. "I wanted the Amazon. I've only met you today. Why would I want you?"
Akane flushed in embarrassment. "Well, I-"
"I don't want you. I wanted his fiancée."
"But I am his fiancée."
Akane drew back when he looked at her. All the good nature he had been exhibiting disappeared in an instant, replaced with a hard, penetrating glare.
"Don't lie to me," he said quietly.
Akane shook off her fear and glared back at him. "I'm not lying."
He stared at her for a moment longer, as though searching for the truth on her face, before turning back to his orange.
"So what are you saying?" he asked. "Ranma has two fiancées?"
Akane shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, actually he has three."
Mousse paused for a moment in peeling the orange. "Three? I wasn't aware that polygamy was practiced in Japan."
"No, it's not like that," she protested. "It's… well it's complicated."
Mousse nodded slowly. "I think I see. You were already affianced to him when he defeated the Amazon in combat, am I right?" He smiled. "That must make you bitter that someone else has a claim to him."
"Well, yeah sort of," she said. And then quickly, "No! I mean, I didn't ask to be his fiancé or anything like that. It was our fathers' idea."
"So you're saying you don't care for him?" he said, the smile still on his face.
"Yes. I mean no! I mean…" Akane stammered, flustered by his questioning.
He held up his hands. "Don't worry, I think I get it. So, who is the third?"
"Ukyo," she said, looking relieved that the conversation took another direction.
He raised his eyebrows. "Really? That would explain much. And the name of the other? The Amazon?"
She blinked, confused. He wants her, but doesn't know her name? "Shampoo?"
He nodded as though in understanding. "Shampoo. Yes."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, disturbed only by the kittens purring.
Akane couldn't take much more of it. "Why do you want her?"
Mousse looked up, and she got the impression that she had disturbed some deep thoughts he was having. "Excuse me?"
"Why do you want her so badly? What did she do to you?"
He grinned, and this time there was no good humor in it. To Akane it looked the way a shark might grin. "She didn't do anything. Her great-grandmother did."
"Then why do you want to marry her?" she asked, confused.
He stared at her. "Marry her?" And then he burst out laughing
Akane shivered as he laughed. The sound was enough to make her skin crawl. She didn't want to think what he would have done to Shampoo if she were here instead.
The laughter stopped abruptly. "You're free to go."
Akane started. "What?"
"I said you may go now if you want. I never intended to kidnap you, and I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you," he said, and bowed his head.
Akane gaped. He's letting me go? And he's apologizing? Unbelievable.
She watched in disbelief as he pulled out a phone from nowhere. "Bring the limo out front and take the lady home."
"No, you don't have to do that," protested Akane, still unsure if she could trust him. "I can find my way home."
He gave her a flat look. "It would take you the rest of the night to get to Nerima from here. Besides, I wouldn't feel right letting a pretty girl like you to walk home unescorted."
"Well, I-" Akane said, turning red in the face.
"It's no problem, believe me," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's the least I can do after putting you through all this."
"Um, okay," she said, and stood, placing the sleepy kitten on the table and turning to the door. "Thanks for letting me go, I guess."
He raised his hand in goodbye and smiled in response.
Akane walked to the door as quickly as she could without seeming to be afraid. He seemed nice enough now, but she couldn't get past the feeling that he was simply toying with her. So she almost jumped out of her skin as he called her name.
"Akane?"
She turned as calmly as she could. "Yes," she managed.
He cocked his head. "What is your surname?"
She blinked. "My surname? Tendo. Why?"
He nodded. "You reminded me of someone I knew. Goodbye, Miss Tendo."
She frowned in thought as she stepped out into the hall. A man in what she assumed was the hotel dress was waiting beside the door. He bowed and motioned for her to step ahead of him.
"Miss? Mister Sun has arranged for your transportation. This way."
In the limo, which she thought was almost as big as the room she was in, Akane thought about why all the weird things that happen to her happen as they do. She wondered if Ranma was all right. But most of all, she wondered about Mousse.
Who is he? She thought. What does he want with Cologne and Shampoo? And why did he say I look familiar?
***
Mousse lay staring up at the ceiling. Things were becoming more complicated, but no matter. The events of the day had little impact on his plans. Cologne would still die in the most horrible fashion imaginable, but not before she saw her progeny killed before her eyes.
He frowned. Xian Pu. He felt a tickle of memory as he said her name. The more he thought of it, the more familiar she seemed to be. He turned on his side. Again, no matter. She would die too.
And then there was the matter of Miss Tendo Akane. He wasn't sure how Nabiki would take the fact that he had kidnapped her sister. Not well, likely. He knew it shouldn't matter one way or another whether Nabiki liked it or not, but he still couldn't help but feel like an ass about the whole situation. He was attracted to her, that was undeniable, and it couldn't have happened at a worse time. The last thing he needed was a girl on his mind at a time like this.
Lucifer jumped onto the bed and curled up against his chest. Mousse felt his eyelids grow heavy as he pet the purring cat. There would be time enough to worry. Now, he just felt like sleeping.
Soon, he thought. Very soon.
***
Shampoo crouched underneath the bed. Violent Girl had left and Mousse's breathing had become steady and rhythmic. She crept out from beneath the bed and leapt up, landing softly on the silk sheets. A hissing sound greeted her. Another cat faced her, no more than a kitten really, its back arched and fur standing on end. A quick swipe of her paw sent it away.
Don't mess with the big cats, little one, Shampoo thought smugly.
She padded closer to Mousse's sleeping form. She froze as he suddenly began to spasm as his body was wracked by coughs. It was a dying man's hacking cough and shook his entire body, but the fit disappeared as quickly as it came about. Once again his body resumed its deep, steady breathing.
Her feline eyes widened as she came close enough to him to get a good look. He had disrobed before falling asleep and was wearing nothing more than his smallclothes. Whatever technique he had used to become a demon had burned away much of the mass from his body. The muscles he had left were starkly accented almost to the point of grotesqueness. Scars also criss-crossed his body, especially the part of his arms between the wrist and elbow. She could see that some of them were recent, but the majority of them had to have been there for years. Especially the ugly one around his throat. It was as though someone had tried to hang him and decided to let him go before he could choke to death.
Shampoo crept closer until she could see his face. He looked surprisingly peaceful like this. He would cough slightly at times, but besides that his sleep was undisturbed. He slept like the dead.
What happened to you, my friend? She thought as she watched him. What changed you?
She stretched her neck out and nuzzled his cheek. I promise I'll help you, Mu Tzu. I'll make you remember me.
Mousse muttered softly, and Shampoo was surprised when he rolled over onto his side and reached out to lay his hand on her head.
"Good cat," he sighed, and the hand fell away.
Shampoo relaxed when she realized he wasn't awakening, he was just talking in his sleep. She reached out with a paw and lay it on his hand.
I'll be back Mu Tzu. I promise.