…little boy…our little boy…
Mousse awoke, screaming. At least, he would have had not his throat suddenly clamped shut. So instead of a scream, it came out stillborn in the form of a high rasp. He tried to move, but could only clench and unclench his hands impotently. His open eyes saw only darkness. His heart hammered so hard against the wall of his chest that it felt as though his entire body was shaking. Paralyzed, suffocating, unseeing; it was much as he remembered. But slowly, agonizingly slowly, he took back control. His heart slowed and the darkness that clouded his eyes faded away. His forced his painfully tensed muscles to unlock and relax. He lay where he was, gulping in mouthfuls of air, exhausted from the struggle with his own body.
He took stock of his surroundings. He was in a room with a ceiling he didn't recognize. He could hear birds outside. Morning then, or close enough. Something smelled faintly of perfume. There were two blankets lying over him. He never liked blankets. They were confining. There was movement out of the corner of his eye and something warm settled on his neck.
His first thought was to pull out a knife and do something horrible with it. When nothing appeared, he tightened his hand into a fist and turned his head to look at what had touched him. What he saw was Nabiki blinking at him sleepily. She yawned and stretched under the covers. She smiled slightly at him. "Good morning."
Mousse stared. There was a moment of incomprehension, followed by a moment of sheer panic. He sat bolt upright and was pulled down again hard when Nabiki grabbed a handful of hair and yanked. She turned his face toward her and sidled closer to him until their noses were almost touching.
She put a finger to her lips. "Shh. They're asleep."
He nodded dumbly. He licked his lips. She smelled like flowers. "Where-?"
As if reading his mind, she whispered, "You're in my room." She grinned. "Don't worry. I didn't take advantage of you while you were out."
"Well now, isn't this cute?"
The two of them started at the voice. Nabiki immediately backed away and pulled the covers up while Mousse was out, facing the source of the voice. A ridiculously small, wizened old man was kneeling in front of the door, looking at them with a raised eyebrow.
Not another one. Mousse thought through the head rush he got from rising too quickly. He felt every single wound he took the night before throbbing. Too soon. It's too soon. I can't fight like this, not with her here.
And then he bared his teeth in a fierce grin. What foolishness. This is the way it has always been. Outmatched and unready, sacrificing a piece of himself just so he would be able to survive till the next fight. There wasn't going to be much of him left when it all ends. He would have been afraid, if he ever cared to think that far ahead.
The old man seemed unconcerned at Mousse's expression. Instead he looked at Nabiki. "So are you going to tell you friend to calm down, or do I make him?"
"Mousse, wait-"
He didn't hear. The old man was dangerous. He could feel it in the way his heartbeat quickened when he saw him. He was just like the Elders. He had to die. He tensed. Quickly.
He felt a hand on his leg as he was ready to lunge. He looked down and saw Nabiki, who recoiled slightly at the look on his face. "It's alright Mousse," she said, after moving a bit away from him. "He won't hurt you."
He relaxed slightly. She didn't have any reason to lie to him. He turned back to the old man, and something dark flew at his face. He sidestepped and swiped with a stiffened hand instinctively. The dark thing caught on the side of his hand and hung there limply. It was the shirt he stole from the paramedic.
"Jumpy, are we?" asked the old man cynically. He stood up. "Put that on and follow me."
Mousse pulled the shirt over his head, and used the time it took to examine his surroundings again. Her room was surprisingly minimalist. He had the impression a girl like her with so much money on her hands would have a room full of things. Then he saw the stereo on the dresser, a high quality brand, and the dress she wore last night hung carelessly over a chair, and the tiny bottle of expensive perfume on the desk. It wasn't that she was tight with her money. She simply knew what she wanted. And from what he saw of her actions the past night, he wondered if she also wanted him.
"You stay here," said the old man to Nabiki, who was getting up. "We'll talk later."
She paused, unsure, when Mousse looked at her and shook his head. She let her breath out in a huff and sat back down. He could feel her gaze on his back as he pulled on his shoes. He looked back as he was leaving and saw that she was still looking at him. She raised her hand slightly and he raised his in return before shutting the door.
The old man moved with surprising spryness. Or perhaps not so surprising, considering who he was. "Why are you helping me?" asked Mousse.
"You talk too much lad," he answered in a whisper Mousse could barely hear. He turned suddenly and stared hard at him. Even if the old man barely came up past his knee, Mousse had the feeling he was facing a giant. He clenched his teeth. It was just like with the Elders. "Just play along with me and you might get out of here alive. I trust Yeosol trained well enough to follow simple instructions?"
Mousse blinked in surprise, and then almost barked out a harsh laugh. So that was it. The old man was afraid of Yeosol. He couldn't blame the old man; he himself was terrified of his mentor. But the old man was severely overestimating his teacher's capacity to feel anything like love or concern for a pupil. In all the years he spent under Yeosol's wing, the only emotions he could identify in his old teacher were contemptuous amusement and occasional lust.
Mousse kept his mouth shut and struggled to keep his expression under control. The old man's fear worked to his advantage, and he suspected it was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. He nodded at the old man once, who looked at him one last time before moving down the hall.
"After you," said the old man when they came to the stairs.
Mousse did as he was told and found himself facing two men coming up the stairs. He tensed as both of them, wearing karate gi and carrying long staves, looked up at him simultaneously. Their mouths dropped in surprise, but they quickly recovered and pulled their staves up in a fighting stance. Thoughts of betrayal ran through his mind and he prepared to throw himself at them, when the old man appeared beside him.
"Soun! Genma!" he whispered harshly. "What are you doing?"
The two men started. "Master?" said the heavyset one. He lowered his staff and scratched his bald head under the bandana. "What's going on?"
"Never mind that, Genma," snapped the old man. He turned to the other man, who looked to be the physical opposite of Genma, slender with long hair and a moustache. "It's your house, Soun. Show our guest some hospitality."
The two men responded with a quick, if confused affirmative, and hurried in the opposite direction. "Come on lad," said the old man. "It's time you met some of my more worthless students."
***
Nabiki counted out one minute before leaving her room. Happosai didn't honestly believe she'd stay inside, did he? She crept along slowly, careful to avoid the spot on the floor that creaked, and stopped at the top of the stairs. Happosai couldn't have known that her father and Genma had taken to training in the predawn hours. She hoped that none of them had met, and she strained her ears to hear sounds of a fight. There was nothing, but that disturbed her even more.
What would Mousse do if he was attacked? She wondered. The thought of her father and soon-to-be uncle knocking heads with Mousse and possibly even Happosai wasn't very reassuring. It was then that she heard it, a faint exchange of words followed by laughter.
She paused at the sound, then shrugged. Might as well.
She climbed down the stairs, making her step slightly heavier than usual, as if she was still half asleep. The sound was coming from the den. They were sitting at the table, cups in front of all of them, Mousse beside Happosai, who was gesturing enthusiastically to Genma and her father across from him.
"-so the boy here jumps in front of me and says to them-" he stopped when he noticed her. His face tightened in annoyance. "Nabiki. You're up rather early."
"Ah, good morning Nabiki," said her father. "Say hello to our guest… ah, I don't believe I caught your name young man?"
"Kaoru, Mr. Tendo. Takahashi Kaoru," said Mousse quietly, looking embarrassed at all the attention. He bowed his head toward her. "Good morning, Miss Tendo."
"Our friend Kaoru is a paramedic," said her father. He winked conspiratorially. "He saved Happosai from some hoodlums the other night."
Genma nodded, and grinned. "Yeah, who knows what would have happened to Happosai if Kaoru hadn't have been there. He's a model young man if I've ever seen one."
Happosai looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Yes, he certainly is," he muttered. He turned to Nabiki. "Last night I was confronted by three young men looking to mug a defenseless old man like me. But Kaoru here came to my rescue, and got somewhat injured. It was late, and I insisted that he spend the night here."
"It was the end of my shift," Mousse said quietly. "I was very tired. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, Kaoru," said her father amiably.
Silence settled over the room. It was then she noticed that they were expecting her to say something. She had to play along. "You're kinda young for a paramedic, aren't you?" she said, and almost clapped her hands over her mouth. Why did I say that? She thought. I'm going to blow his cover!
Happosai started coughing violently into his cup, but Mousse only smiled. "I get that a lot. It's a part of a new program at East City Hospital. The idea is that interns ride along with real paras, so that they can learn something about what it's like on the street." He shrugged. "Some of interns can't handle the eight hour shifts, but it's great PR for the hospital."
"So you're a student at one of the university's medical schools?" said her father, looking genuinely impressed. "You must be quite talented."
He shrugged again. "It isn't much really. I'm just doing what I like to do."
Genma laughed. "Modest as well as upright."
Her father nodded in agreement. "He certainly is, Saotome." He turned to Mousse. "Tell me lad, would you like to stay for breakfast? My daughter Kasumi should be up and about shortly if you're hungry."
Mousse shook his head. "Thank you sir, but I cannot. I need to get back to the hospital to fill out some paperwork."
"Ah, well that's too bad," said her father. "Do you have any way to get back?"
"I thought I'd walk until I got out of Nerima," replied Mousse. "My partner told me that for some reason cabs won't come out here. I wonder why that is?"
Her father cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "Well, surely it's a mystery to us all. Anyway, since you're leaving, you must excuse Genma and myself. We must return to our practice. It was good meeting you, and I hope you will visit us again." He stood and turned toward Nabiki. "Nabiki, please show our guest out, will you?"
She shrugged. "Come with me, please," she said to Mousse.
He nodded, thanked her father for the tea, and silently followed her to the door. There, she turned suddenly and placed her hands on either side of his face. He started and tried to pull away, but she kept in step with him.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, tracing the scar on his cheek with a thumb.
He shook his head and gently removed her hands from his face. "You shouldn't worry about me. I'm used to it."
"Good," she said. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him as hard as she could in the stomach. It was like punching a brick wall, but she was gratified when it was met by a surprised grunt.
"That's what you get for putting me through all that last night," she told a speechless Mousse. Before he could react, she moved as close as she could and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. She grinned. "It was fun though. Once you've taken care of your business, give me a call." And then she walked away.
Mousse remained standing there for a moment, wondering whether what had just happened was a good thing or not, when a Happosai reminded him of his existence by clearing his throat. If he was amused, his face didn't show it.
"I can only hope this will be the last time you and I meet, though I doubt it," he said. "I can only tell you this, lad. I don't know why you're here, and I don't want to know. But if you're going to die, do it somewhere else. If there's any scrap of humanity in you, you'll do that. There's no point in allowing innocents to get hurt in a personal feud." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shook his head and went back into the den.
On the way out of Nerima, Mousse pondered over what he heard during his brief stay at the Tendos. Give me a call... There's no point in allowing innocents to get hurt… Do you're dying somewhere else… He never should have gotten her involved in the first place. His raging teenage hormones told him differently, but he knew the old man was right. His hand drifted up to the spot where she had kissed him, and let it drop with a weary sigh. Events were moving too quickly for him to control. It was supposed to be so simple; kill the Elder, wipe out the village, go back and figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He lifted his face to the early morning sky as if beseeching some higher force. When did life get so complicated?
***
"What do you think, Saotome?" asked Soun, bringing his staff down hard.
"It's almost time for breakfast," replied Genma, parrying the staff with his own. He shoved against Soun's body with his staff, forcing him back.
"I meant the boy." Soun staggered back, on the defensive, and held the point of his staff forward to check Genma's forward movement.
Genma looked thoughtful for a moment while knocking Soun's staff off-center. "Cold," he answered. "Very cold."
Soun nodded. "I thought so, too," he said. "Do you believe that story of his? About being a medical student and saving the master and all that?" He dipped the staff down and stabbed at his feet.
Genma leapt back. "I'm not sure. The way the boy talked, it was hard to tell. Like I said, cold."
Soun sighed and set the end of the staff on the ground. "You want to stop for the morning, Saotome?"
Genma also relaxed out of his fighting stance. "You go ahead, Tendo. I think I'll stay out a bit longer."
"Of course," he answered. His old friend was taking the near-death of his son hard. He was too, of course. He already considered the boy a part of the family, and so did practically everyone else. Ranma and Akane didn't want to admit it, but they'd come around sooner or later. But now so many strange things were happening. An outsider beats Ranma into a coma. Akane is kidnapped, and then returned on the same day. Dr. Tofu returns radically different from the way he remembered him. And now this Kaoru boy comes and saves Happosai from some thugs, as hard as that was to believe. He paused, an uncomfortable feeling forming in his stomach. Could they all be connected somehow? He shook his head. You're getting paranoid in your old age.
But then he remembered earlier in the morning, when he first saw the boy. He had never seen such a chilling expression before. For the split second before Happosai showed up, he was sure the boy was going to kill him. A chill ran up his spine. Paranoid, certainly. He was just a boy, and that was that. It was just his imagination running away with him. No more than that. Surely not.
***
Upstairs, Ranma opened his eyes.