Disclaimer: Try and sue and I'll set Kazaki on you. Sorry about the delay folks. I'll try to do better, but the combination of grad school, work, and the fact that these are some of the harder chapters to write (the easy stuff doesn't happen for years on in and I need to actually get the characters there! Also, re-reading I have noticed some continuity errors. Some day (when I'm closer to done) I'll actually edit these. Meanwhile, I apologize for any mistakes and hope you will bear with me.
Unsurprisingly, Kazaki argued with Ranma all the way back to the group.
Something about this disturbance was warping space in such a way that the Estate, which should still have been days of travel away, was suddenly only a few hours good run. Even if they took the group to the last shrine first and then doubled back, it would still be shorter than heading to the Estate the normal way.
Ranma thought it was a god-send. He was starting to realize he didn't really mind having people depend on him and listen to what he said all the time, but it would be nice to have a break. On the Estate, everyone would still listen to him but they would have other people to depend on as well. And he would have Hitomi and Kasumi working together to make sure everyone got lots of hot food—there was the one new woman who came in just before he left who had made an awesome fish stew. Warm tasty stew...even Kasumi couldn't do much on the road with their limited supplies, time, and safety.
Usagi would be there too—he could tell her what it had been like to return to and then leave Nerima again. He hadn't been able to let himself really think about it since he'd had to focus on getting Kasumi and everyone out of there. Not that he'd break down in front of Usagi; Ranma knew that men don't cry unless they're Tendo Soun—and who wants to be like him? So Ranma wouldn't do anything like that; but he would be able to just spend some time thinking about it. And maybe let Usagi hug him, since it would probably make her feel better.
Ranma couldn't wait to get back to the Estate. Back home. So of course Kazaki had to put a damper on it.
"You really want to risk all those people, boy? You want to see what happens when something like this collapses around them?" Kazaki huffed. The boy was moving a little faster, eager with thoughts of getting back to this Estate, and Kazaki was having a little trouble keeping up. Not that he'd ever admit it—or stop complaining in order to conserve oxygen for his overworked lungs. "I can just see it now. Half way there the whole place will rip itself apart and we'll all go with it."
"Ah, shut up, old man. Whatever this weird thing is, it feels pretty stable. And it's a great short cut."
"Oh, well, if it feels stable. As long as your "feelings" are good, why not? Idiot. Haven't you noticed that there aren't any animals in here? Even those dogs didn't follow us in. Not that I'm surprised to learn that they're smarter than you."
Ranma growled under his breath. It was so tempting to just turn and throw a punch at the old man. A good fight might just shut him up and it would certainly make Ranma feel better. It's not like anyone would blame him either. Everyone else hated the old jerk too. They'd probably cheer Ranma on.
"You…listening…to…me…idiot boy?" Kazaki's breath was becoming labored. The old man was fit—but he wasn't Ku Lon or Happosai. Ranma felt a petty sense of satisfaction.
As they came to the edge of the disturbance, Ranma finally slowed down. Something tugged against him, pulling him back. He remembered what it had felt like when he had first crossed into the weirdness—the tugging sensation had faded or else he had gotten used to as he moved further in. Now it had returned, newly insistent.
Ranma frowned. The old man's comment about the place ripping apart and pulling whoever was inside to pieces along with it echoed through his head. He pushed against the resistance, forcefully making his way to the boundary of the warped space. The tugging turned into pulling, as if someone was holding onto his clothes, his hair, even his skin, and trying to drag him back away from the edge.
Pushing his way past the edge, Ranma stumbled as the force suddenly dropped away. Turning, he saw that Kazaki was moving more easily—and more slowly—through down the street. The old man walked past the border with barely the smallest hitch in his step. He smirked at Ranma and the boy scowled back.
Ranma still wanted to use the shortcut. To be back at the Estate so soon! But he thought of Kasumi, trembling in the night, her hands twisting into her apron. He thought of Kenji, his face set with determination and only the slightest hint of fear.
Damn. He hated to let Kazaki think he was right even if he was. It wasn't worth the risk. He turned sharply and kept running back to the group, leaving Kazaki laboring behind him.
Kenji and Kasumi had managed to get the group a few miles down the road. Coming up behind them, still angry and frustrated, Ranma managed to surprise some of the feral dogs that were warily following the group, looking for food. Most of them cowered and slunk away, too wild to be willing to get close to get a human. A couple of the dogs looked hopefully at him, tails wagging tentatively, and Ranma thought of the dogs that they had brought on to the Estate--mostly as guard dogs but there was a puppy here and there that the kids liked to play with. One of the biggest of the feral dogs did neither though; instead, it started growling, settling into an aggressive crouch.
Ranma stopped and frowned at the dog. He didn't think of the animals as being much threat to his people. Feral dogs had always been around in most of the cities that he and his pops had traveled through--cute little puppies that outgrew their owners' apartments and were left to fend for themselves. They almost always avoided people. But they were carnivores and there were a lot more of them on the streets these days. The animals seemed a lot less likely to fall to Sleep in the Time than humans were. And they must be getting hungry with no one around to feed them or dump trash for them to get into. They might be a threat to anyone who fell behind in the group. The people who weren't strong enough to keep up with the group as a whole, mostly the elderly, the kids and the sick, wouldn't be strong enough to defend themselves either.
It was stupid of him to ignore that. Even with him falling back to check on the stragglers, they were vulnerable when he was ranging out front or exploring off to the side like he had been with Kazaki. He was lucky that nothing had attacked them yet. Ranma made a note in the back of his mind to ask the people who took watches when they stopped to rest to also slow down and walk at the back of the group. They could probably hold something off until he could get there to save them.
In order to protect his people, he needed to teach them to protect themselves. He had learned that on the Estate but it had been a new lesson that was apparently easily forgotten when he left. A martial artist could rely on his own strength to protect those he cared for from dishonorable challengers, marauding monsters, and grabby princes. A leader had to rely on the strength of others.
Ranma scowled at the dogs again, wishing more than ever that he was back at the Estate. He needed desperately to talk to Usagi and Hitomi and have them help him sort out his thoughts and all the problems going on. Usagi might launch into a list of her troubles--might wail and make his eye drums bleed--but she also might fix them. Plus, she would hug him and tell him it was OK to rely on other people. Hitomi definitely would launch into her own troubles--that's how their friendship started after all--and she'd probably tell him to start fixing his own problems fast so he could get started on fixing everyone else's, but she'd listen without panicking at least and she'd get him an extra bowl of dinner and send him to bed with a guard at his door to make sure that no one interrupted his sleep unless it really was an emergency.
He missed his friends. He couldn't talk at all to anyone else. Someone like Kazaki or Isamu, one of the more belligerent office workers traveling with the group, would take any sign of weakness as a reason to rebel and try to take over. Someone like Kenji or Achika, who was lucky enough to Wake up at the same time as her only kid, would probably take any sign of weakness from him as a reason to panic. They needed him to be strong. Even Kasumi was relying on him being strong.
Ranma squared his shoulders at the thought of Kasumi and kicked a pebble at the growling dog. It yelped and ran off, its bravado collapsed at his own show of aggression. He was a man among men, not a scared little girl. Time to stop whining to himself and start acting...
"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Kazaki had managed to catch up while Ranma was lost in his thoughts. "Don't bother thinking, you're obviously no good at it. Now stop antagonizing those flea-bitten mutts and get back to your job. You might not be any good at it, but apparently you're all we got!"
"Shut up! I'm Ranma Saotome and I'm the best there is--at anything!"
"Sir Ranma!" His shout drew the attention of one of the stragglers--Achika, as it turned out, who had fallen behind while trying to calm her sulky four year old. She was one of the first people to call him Sir Ranma, but it had unfortunately spread among most of the group. Ranma supposed he should be used to it after everyone on the Estate started calling him the Queen's Knight, but it still made him shudder a but.
"Oh, Sir Ranma, thank god you're back!" Achika's glad cries drew the attention of the rest of the group and Ranma quickly found himself surrounded by a swarm of people, some welcoming him back and some taking the opportunity to make him listen to their complaints. The last few dogs disappeared and Kazaki and his mutterings faded into the background.
It took them a while to get started moving again. Kenji and Kasumi had helped him get the crowd to back off. He had to promise to settle a few of the complaints at the next camp but for the most part they weren't too serious. Ranma did ask a few of the stronger men to hang out near the tail end of the group--it gave Isamu something to do, too, which wasn't a bad thing.
By the time they got to the shrine--the last one Ranma was expecting to find people in--Ranma had some vague plans forming in the back of his mind. The shrine was in the middle of a neighborhood that looked mostly normal. It had a decent wall surrounding it--one with no holes and only two entrances to watch, so Ranma figured they would be pretty safe waiting there.
There were five people waiting at the shrine for Ranma; he only recognized to of them, an old woman and her grandson. She told Ranma that the office worker he had dropped off had decided to try and make it to the Estate on his own. His wife was there and he hadn't been willing to wait to see her. Ranma hoped that he had made it. The other three people had found the shrine on their own and decided to stay when the grandmother told them about the Estate.
Ranma was pretty sure that at least one of them was a ghost. He decided not to say anything. It was too hard to believe when you were talking to one; until the first one disappeared on you that is.
While Kasumi organized dinner for the "night," Ranma pulled out the people had organized to take guard duties. He explained his thoughts about having a rear guard and got mostly enthusiastic agreement. One man asked tentatively for some lessons in how to use the big stick he had picked up most effectively.
"Ah man. Look, I'm sorry about not doing some' a this sooner. You'll get lessons at the Estate--any body who wants them and a couple people who might not--but it'd be good for us to start now. After dinner I'll show you a few things." The man looked pleased as did a few others. In the group of twenty or so people, Ranma had pulled about a third of them out as guards. He'd have to make sure more of them took him up on the lessons though. Everyone needed at least a little bit of self-defense.
"Anyways, I know you've all heard about the Estate now." Everyone nodded. "And I think I've given you some ideas 'bout how it works. It's time to start thinking about it a bit more. Like I said, you'll all get some lessons in fighting there and the best people in those can work with the guards or the foraging crew. Won't get you out of all the rest of the work, but you'll miss some of the chores. It's hard and it's dangerous. People and things do attack occasionally so the guards get some action. And the foraging crews are out here; you know what that's like. Nobody on the Estate don't work. We can't afford it. So I'm asking you--and I'll ask everyone else at dinner too--to think about if you got anything special to share. We got people cooking, farming, sewing, whatever. We need whatever you can give us. So, um, just think about that. Isamu, Kenji, you two got first watch. You know who is after you?" The two men nodded. "Right, well, wake them up then your candles get low and watch out for those dogs. Everyone else go help do whatever Kasumi tells ya to."
The small group dispersed and Ranma started to head towards the main fire where Kasumi was organizing the shopping carts full of supplies. On his way there, Ranma noticed Kazaki setting up his own small fire near the edge of the shrine. He tugged on the end of his braid with annoyance (noting with vague surprise that it was half way down his back; he'd have to ask Hitomi to cut it some when they got home), then sighed and walked over to the old man. He squatted next to the pile of sticks waiting to be added to the fire and stared at the stone wall.
"Look old man, you don't like me. An' I don't much like either. In fact, I don't think anyone does. But I know you heard what I was telling the others earlier. So we gotta figure out how you can do your share without, you know, spending time with anyone. I figure you got some training in the Art so maybe"
Kazaki snorted loudly, interrupted Ranma's sentence. "Maybe I'm not interested in taking orders from a snot-nosed punk with more muscles than brains."
Ranma stiffened, his fists clenching tightly together. This old man could get a rise out of him as quick as his pops could--or Akane! "Damn it! Maybe I ain't interested in giving orders to a useless old jackass either!"
"There we go then. You don't give any orders and I won't listen to any. Sounds perfect." The old man didn't even bother to look at him.
Ranma leapt up and punched the wall. All of his instincts were telling him that he needed Kazaki and the geezer was just playing with him! The thick stones cracked under the force of his fist, leaving a spider-web that nearly touched the ground and the top of the wall.
"Feel any better?" Kazaki asked mockingly.
"Fuck. Shut up. I gotta protect these people and that's harder to do with you mouthing off all the time! So just shut up already." Ranma leaned into the wall, feeling the cracks beneath him. He hadn't hit hard enough to leave a hole in the wall, but it would still be a weak spot in their defenses. Like butting heads with Kazaki all the time was.
When he turned to look at Kazaki, it seemed like the lines in his face had multiplied. For the first time, Ranma saw him as old--really old, not like Happosai and Ku Lon acted like.
"I know." The old man said softly and his tired voice echoed with bitterness. "Mankind's sunk and you--arrogant idiot that you are--you seem to be the only hope we have. They're listening to you, believing in you, instead of panicking and drawing the wolves down on themselves. I won't ruin that. I'll go with you as far as this Estate of yours, make sure you make it there, then I'll head off."
Ranma face-faulted. The old jerk almost sounded reasonable for the first time but what he was saying...
"What are you saying? What the hell are you thinking? I ain't letting a senile old fart like you wander off to die by himself!"
"Ha! If a stupid punk like you can survive I'll do just fine!"
This was getting nowhere. Ranma gritted his teeth and, for the first time in a while, consciously called on the Soul of Ice. The technique helped him think; calmed him down and let logic rule him. He hadn't felt like he needed the full strength of the technique since he was getting better and thinking reasonably without calling on its coldness. "What will you do out here then?"
Kazaki poked at the fire. His eyes were dark as he gazed into the growing flames. "No reason for you to care about it."
"Say I do anyways." Ranma said calmly.
Kazaki looked up at him with a narrow-eyed suspicion. "Say I don't care if you do."
The two men stared at each other with assessing expressions. Ranma pulled himself deeper into the Soul of Ice and thought about the instinct that told him that Kazaki was needed. He let the cool chain of logic that the technique called up trace the origins of the instinct through his mind. Kazaki was a fighter; strong enough to survive out here for a while anyway. He was cautious enough not to get others killed but brave enough to take the risks that truly needed to be taken. And he could sense some of the stranger ripples in the Time.
The people of the Estate, Ranma's people, needed all the protection he could get them.
Kazaki was the first to look away from their staring contest. "Never had much use for people, even my own family. I don't want to stay on your "Estate," boy. Too many desperate idiots crowded together...too many people I can't protect from this craziness any more than you can."
"It's a martial artist's duty to protect the weak. Against any odds." Ranma's gaze didn't leave the old man and so he caught Kazaki's flinch. The man's shoulders hunched up, hiding his weathered neck and pulling his head into his chest like a turtle retreating from the world. He didn't say anything.
Ranma let the silence build around them. It was a trick he had learned from Nabiki and was only able to use when deep into the Soul of Ice.
"Maybe I'll bring people to you. If I find anyone out here. And if I think you'll actually be able to take care of them." Kazaki was trying to sound disparaging, but Ranma heard some of the weariness that tainted everyone's voice now. The whispering calculations in the back of his mind told him to strike carefully.
"The Estate don't support itself. Not entirely. We havta send people out to get stuff--that's what the foraging crews are for. Food, soap, clothes. You bring anyone home with you and you'll need to load 'em up with supplies too." There wasn't a hint of question in Ranma's voice. The Estate was home and it would be so for Kazaki, Kasumi, and all of the rest too.
Kazaki wasn't letting go without a fight though. He was staring at Ranma with an incredulous twist to his mouth and a spark of something unnamable in his eyes. "You thinking that I'm a dog then? A boy like you says 'fetch' and I say 'arf'?"
"Dogs are good people. Good workers less they go feral like those ones out there. And even some of them will be useful if someone gets their heads on right and they start protecting like they're supposed to instead of threatening to attack." Kazaki's stare turned back into a scowl as Ranma spoke but he didn't interrupt the boy. "The foraging crews are good people too. They pick up supplies--people too--and bring 'em back to the rest of us. They're strong, fast, and smart too. They need to be because they run into all sorts of weird shit out here. We got two right now. Probably need a third one soon, with all these extra mouths. I'll want to send one back here to check out whatever that was back there too. More we know about what the Time's messing with, the better off we all are." Ranma pushed himself off the wall and started walking back to the main part of camp. "Whoever comes could probably use someone who knows the area to help them stay out of trouble."
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Ranma got more serious about foraging as well as training his newest band of refugees as they got closer to the Estate. They were only about a week away and he knew that adding more mouths really was going to put some strain on their supplies. His group would half again as many people as were already on the Estate—and that wasn't counting anyone else that Mako or his people might have brought in. Before he even left, Hitomi had been talking about expanding the existing gardens with another work party. It was time to do some serious planning for the future and—Ranma wasn't going to bluff his way through this—that wasn't really his strong point. They had set up the Estate mostly with luck up to now. Well, luck, people's awe of the Queen, and Hitomi's organizational power. It wouldn't keep being enough.
Talking to the people as they traveled back about their skills and seeing how some of the stores and homes they passed by were already worthless for supplies being either looted already or lost to the whims of the Time, Ranma had started thinking more about self-sufficiency. Most of the women he had picked up knew how to sew—but they needed to get cloth from somewhere. Farming could get them some food—but would it be enough to feed everyone? And could they get some animals on the Estate besides the dogs? Pigs or something? They couldn't get fish, Ranma didn't think.
The thing was, there was a lot they needed that Ranma could think of but couldn't figure out how to get. And there was probably more that they could use that he couldn't even think of. Same with Hitomi; she was smart but she didn't know everything. They needed some way to use everyone's brain. Without sitting down and having to listen to everyone 'cause they were getting too big to do that and dealing with everyone would just give Ranma a headache.
It was something to sit down with Hitomi and Usagi about. Maybe Mako too; his foraging crews knew a lot. And Jiro was pretty good at filtering stuff through to Ranma. And Mariko in the kitchens knew a lot too…but that was just getting him back to having to talk to everyone. There had to be a way to limit it.
Ranma was distracted from his thoughts by a shout from the rear. The terror present in the yell started his feet racing before his brain had even finished processing his ears input. A day from the Estate, the group's luck had finally run out. They were being attacked by a band of soldiers.
Their armor looked old—maybe warring states period? Ranma never had paid too much attention in history but battles caught his attention for a little bit. Whatever—whenever—they were, they were ghosts but solid enough to be really dangerous and aware enough to want to be.
The rear guard, armed with sticks and rocks, were fighting as best they could against a group of trained men with swords and knifes. Luckily there were no horses and no guns. Vaguely aware of Kasumi and Kazaki herding the children and weaker adults away, Ranma cursed his own training. His fists and feet flew, knocking men down and out, but there was only so much he could do to protect his people without a weapon in his hands. A real weapon, made to kill, would let him get through the attackers quicker so that his own men didn't have to face them for so long. Didn't have to die under their weapons. He struck out viciously at the marauders, not bothering to watch as the ones he laid out faded into nothingness, and finally grabbed one of the swords.
Anything Goes Martial Arts might distain weapons—but they were called anything goes for a reason. He might not know the delicacies of kendo or the intricacies of real sword fighting, but he knew how to use a weapon. He stabbed and swung, slicing whatever flesh he could reach and putting his strength into slicing through even the thick armor that protected their vulnerable spots. He let his thoughts slide away and danced with the power of the Art.
When he came back fully to himself, the attackers were gone, faded away. He could see that several of his own people were wounded—Kenji and Isamu among them—and there were two bodies lying on the ground in pools of blood. One was a woman that had joined the group at the last shrine—one of the ones that had found their own way there instead of being picked up by Ranma. He barely even remembered her name; Junko, he thought.
The other body was wearing the armor of the attackers.
All of the ghosts that Ranma had met and fought had faded away when he had brought them down. All of them.
Cautiously, he made his way over to the body. Poking it with the tip of the sword which might fade away at any moment itself, he turned it so that he could look at the face. It was a fairly generic man's face. But…there was something…its (his) teeth were perfect. They shone white through the blood leaking out of its (his) mouth.
Ranma felt a shudder go through his entire body. He couldn't stop staring at the body in front of him. It wasn't the first time he had killed; the Time was too dangerous for that and there had been Saffron before then. But…it was the first time that he had had to deal with a corpse. A corpse that he had made.
From a distance, he heard a cheer go up behind him. It was a cry of survival—full of desperation as much as joy—but it was a cry that came from being alive and that was worth acknowledging. Ranma let his people pull him away from the bloody man sprawled in front of him. Kasumi and the rest of the group were coming back. They would tend the wounded—the gash on Isamu's head, the bleeding slice on Kenji's arm—and they would bury the bodies. Both of them.