Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the property of Rumiko Takahashi and all associated licensers. The King of Fighters and it associated series are the property of SNK-Playmore and all associated licensers. This is not a work for profit. I claim no rights to the characters. This is a work of fiction.
Continuity for Ranma is mostly derived from the manga, with some of the anime sprinkled in for good measure. Continuity for the King of Fighters is a modified form of the current story, how that is should be explained in story, but I am willing to explain for those with further questions.
Enjoy!
Chapter 16
"Okonomiyaki! Get your okonomiyaki here!"
Ukyo carefully scooped another one of her masterful creations off the grill. She had been cooking all morning. Her plan of setting up a small concession stand had worked out rather well, except for one minor detail: no one was buying a thing!
She watched carefully as a couple walked by. They took a curious glance at her stand. Would this finally be her chance for a sale?
"Okonomiyaki?" Ukyo said in her sweetest sounding voice, waving the dish in their direction. How she wished she could actually hawk her goods in English. That's what Ranchan had been studying, right? But why would you speak English in Germany and… this was not a productive line of thought!
"Das ist aber ein lustiges Wort." the woman cooed. "Was ist das wohl für ein Gericht? Denkst du es schmeckt?"
"Keine Ahnung, aber ich werde es auf keinen Fall probieren. Das Zeug sieht aus, als ob es mich krank machen wird. Genau wie das vietmanesische Essen damals." the gentleman seemed to turn green as he remembered something.
'Come on Ukyo, you can do this!' she thought to herself. She pushed the dish towards the couple and smiled. They looked as if they were about to walk off however.
"Young lady, I will try some of that okonomiyaki." A deep voice suddenly called to her in Japanese.
Ukyo turned to look at the potential new customer. She was more than a little taken aback by his appearance. He was the easily the tallest man she had even seen, with a massive shock of white hair complimenting his light brown skin. Belaying his strange features were his clothes, a somber grey suit with tie. It was surreal; sure, foreigners were supposed to be exotic, but this took it to a whole new level!
"Ah yes," the strange man said as he used a fork to lift a piece of Ukyo's dish up to his mouth. "It smells wonderful." He ate the piece. "Such a fine texture to it as well. The shrimp is cooked just right and the seasoning compliments the taste of the other ingredients rather than overpowering them; a magnificent effort on your part, young lady."
"You're very welcome sir." Ukyo was truly grateful. At least someone around here appreciated her food!
"Sie da!" he pointed to the couple, who had had been transfixed by the spectacle of the giant appearing out of nowhere to eat okonomiyaki. "Sie haben keine Ahung was sie verpassen."He spoke to them as if he were a teacher lecturing his wayward students.
"Ähm, ok, na dann." the woman meekly walked over to the stand. Ukyo handed her an untouched dish and she began to eat.
"Oh, das ist gut!"she cried. "Liebling, das musst du probieren!"
"Meinst du wirklich? Na gut." her partner walked over and tried some as well. He looked very impressed.
"I guess they like it." Ukyo said with great relief.
"They do." The giant man said to her. "Tell me, can you cook anything else?"
"Of course I can!" she said with pride. "Not just Japanese stuff either. I know quite a few dishes from all over the world."
"Excellent. I think your stand will become very popular during the tournament, with the right promotion of course. I will make arrangements for that."
"Arrangements?" Ukyo asked, bewildered once more. "Just who are you mister?"
"My name?" he chuckled slightly. "It's Muhsin Khatai. I'm currently working as an 'advisor' for the Bernstein Foundation to make sure the tournament runs smoothly. I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur, and your cooking is some of the best I've had in quite a while."
"Well I'm Ukyo Kuonji, and if you want to make some sort of business agreement with me that's fine. But I warn you, I drive a hard bargain."
Muhsin laughed heartily, it made Ukyo feel as if her chest was shaking from the vibrations.
"I can see we will get along well Miss Kuonji." He extended his hand to her. "Shall we shake on it?"
Ukyo smiled again, a real one this time, brimming with confidence.
"You bet!" her tiny hand clasped his.
"Splendid, here's a small stipend to tide you over until I can bring a support team over here to assist you." Muhsin took a stack of bills from his pocket and handed it to Ukyo. Her eyes glazed over.
"Please, this is too much! I could never possibly repay you for all this Mr. Muhsin." Making a small deal was one thing, but Ukyo felt like she had just promised more than she could deliver. Besides, she was here first and foremost to support Ranchan, and how was she going to do that if she ended up spending all of her time running this stand?
"It's nothing Miss Kuonji, think of it as a gift, a token of my appreciation for your cooking skills. I'll be coming around again soon to savor your cuisine." Before she could protest further, Muhsin turned around and walked away.
He could only be in awe of his good fortune this morning. The tournament was just about to start and he had wondered where he would be able to find a good meal during it. That girl would be very useful indeed. He would make it a point to eat at her stand often over the next week.
After all, seeing as how she and the rest of Humanity would be dead after the tournament was over, his time to enjoy her cuisine would be brief.
The glare of the cameramen's lights was blinding.
"Miss Bernstein! Will you please give me just a moment?" one reporter asked frantically.
"Not before I get my questions in first!" another one countered.
Rose Bernstein looked at the mass of peasants assembled before her. They were all so pathetic, and blind to how utterly pointless their lives were. Journalists, what good were they? Why they were just a bunch of failures who tried to justify their existence by reporting on the accomplishments of the great and mighty, like her. She was an empress before these lowly serfs. If she had it her way, they would be muzzled like dogs until such time their services were needed, but apparently the rest of the world held a different opinion on the matter. She would just have to endure their gibberish for now. Something in the back of her head told her it would be worth it.
"I wish to welcome you to this news conference. I know many of you have traveled very far to come here, so I will cut right to the chase. What questions would you like me to answer first, fellow citizens?" She tried her best to smile, but it came off to the people around her as a condescending smirk. Then again they were reporters; they were used to far worse.
"Why have you organized this tournament?" a young looking man asked anxiously. Rose guessed by his exceptionally poor manners and fashion sense he must be an American. How she truly despised their kind, so crude and undignified. Why had she even let them in here in the first place? That was right; the voice in the back of her head had told her to. It seemed to be edging her into a lot of unpleasant choices lately.
"That's very simple my good man." She began. "You see I have always held a great interest in combat sports. It runs in my family. My brother for instance is a great martial artist, as was my father. I even dabble in fencing from time to time. So nothing gives me greater pleasure then being able to allow the other great martial artists of the world a forum in which to test their mettle."
"Ah, I see." was the best reply the reporter could give to Rose's verbose answer.
"Angelina Mitchelson from INN." a tall dark-skinned female reporter announced herself. "Can we talk a little more about your late father? Aren't there reports surrounding his activities in organizing previous tournaments? Stories of corruption, kidnapping, and even murder?"
"Silly rumors to be sure." Rose tried her best to sound nonchalant. "My father was a legitimate businessman who worked hard to improve the world. At any rate, I would thank you not to speak ill of the dead. Next question please."
"Here's one for you Miss Bernstein." Mitchelson continued to press on, incredulous of Rose's answer. "I've heard that you spent nearly a billion dollars building the facilities to host this event. Don't you think that was a little excessive? Certainly that money could have gone to at least a dozen worthy charitable causes instead of a modern day gladiator contest."
Rose nodded politely as the reporter made her remarks, the golden curls of her hair bobbing up and down in perfect unison, as if she was carefully considering each point. In truth she felt the woman was full of horse manure and that this insipid attempt to discredit all she had so carefully planned was worth a scornful laugh at best, but that would simply not do. The voice in the back of her head again spoke to her, guiding her to give a response that would explain just how important 'modern day gladiators' could be.
"One could argue that. You could say that all entertainment in this world is merely a distraction from the greater issues that confront us. But take away that entertainment and where does it leave us? A world without festivities is a sad world indeed."
She dropped her smile and took on a more serious tone as she continued. "However, I believe it is even more than that. Mankind needs idols that it can aspire to be like, ideals with which people can look to for guidance in developing both mind and body alike. The warriors who have assembled here to compete embody those ideals, through the tireless training they have endured to perfect their fighting skills. I think it will be a most inspiring demonstration, but I will let the viewers be the final judge in that."
The room fell silent as Rose finished her little speech. Even that Mitchelson woman seemed mollified by it. Yes, she said exactly what these sheep wanted to hear, and now she had them right where she wanted them. It was time for the coup de grace.
"I hope that you, as representatives of the journalism community, will do you upmost best to bring those images of heroism and sacrifice to the general public. I cannot succeed in my goal to enlighten the world without your efforts."
She could see that her comment had the appropriate effect. Appealing to a person's vanity and puffing up their self-worth was always the best way to get them over to your point of view. The voice in the back of her head said so, and that must mean it was true.
"I thank you for your time, but I must take my leave now."
"Please, wait!" a reporter in the back called out desperately. "Just one more question!"
"I am sorry, but I must make preparations for the opening ceremony. It is only two hours away. Remember, I am counting on you."
As she watched Rose step down from the podium, Angelina Mitchelson looked at the strange young girl with red eyes and blonde hair with a mixture of admiration and uneasiness. There was definitely something off about her. Then again she was the daughter of Rugal Bernstein, who despite efforts on the part of his estate to cover up his past, had been one of the most infamous drug and weapon dealers the world had ever known. And wasn't there another family member tied up in all of this? Rose's brother… what was his name again, Adelheid? No, that couldn't be it. Adelheid was a girl's name. Regardless of his name, he was an even bigger enigma then the rest of the family. Was he setting his sister up to all this?
One thing was for certain, Angelina was not done with her investigating. She would play the role of the fawning reporter for now, following the lead of her less curious competitors. But she would be keeping a close eye on Rose Bernstein and some of the more connected participants in the tournament, like Kyo Kusanagi. This whole tournament was one big puzzle just waiting to be solved. Rose could talk all she wanted about grand ideas and the enlightenment of humanity, but at the end of the day all of those bright lights just cast even darker shadows.
'It's true a world without festivals would be a sad place to live.' Angelina thought. 'But a world without truth? That would be a nightmare.'
Ash idly played with his deck of cards in one of the countless corridors located underneath the arena. Shen Woo and Xiao Lon were nearby, trying to have as little to do with one another as possible. The two had developed a burgeoning respect between them over the past few weeks, but they were too far apart in their values to ever have a true friendship. Ash liked things that way. It simply would not do for his teammates to end up more loyal to one another than himself.
Still he predicted that this team would more than meet his needs for this tournament. Shen was the reliable standby. He lacked finesse or technique, but his strength, speed, endurance, and reflexes were beyond human. A true berserker, he could only find meaning in combat. In other words, a useful tool for someone savvy enough to harness his talents.
Xiao Lon on the other hand was everything Shen was not. She was a sensitive soul who hated fighting, but understood the necessity of it in a world where only the strong could triumph. When she fought, she took down her opponents with a careful application of force, and with her wide range of weapons, she could subdue just about anyone. It was a remarkable thing to behold her in action, and Ash knew he needed to win her over to his side from the moment they met. That she was Duo Lon's younger sister just gave the situation an added sense of delicious irony.
Duo Lon, it was hard to believe that he had teamed up with Elisabeth. What a pair they made! Ash had never actually betrayed either of them, unlike Shen or Oswald, and yet now they stood as his most formidable opposition. They knew too much about how he operated, even if they were unaware of the exact nature of his plans, and therefore it was a priority to keep an eye on their movements. Good thing Ash had that covered already…
Yes, he had all of his bases covered. He had to considering the circumstances. When someone has the most to gain, it also follows they have the most to lose as well. Because he grasped that better than his enemies, Ash had come out on top time and time again.
He pulled out a card from the deck, the Ace of Hearts. That was Kyo Kusanagi, wasn't it? Not quite at the top of the order, but high up there regardless. The card of luck, ruled by emotions, and loved by many. The very top of the deck was of course the Ace of Spades; cold, intelligent, the symbol of death, but often also of justice as well. Who filled that slot in the scheme of things? Ash had a theory, but decided it was pointless to dwell on it at this time. Whoever it was, it was not Ash.
No, Ash filled the role of the Joker. The Joker was the Highest Trump in the deck, but often excluded from the games of the more traditional cards. When it was used, it could often be the key to winning a hand, but just as often cause great harm to a player's game as well. It was an outsider, it really did not belong in the order of things, but it still existed anyway. Ash thoroughly enjoyed playing this role, and would not trade it in for any other.
"It's time." He said quietly to no one in particular, although it caught the attention of his teammates regardless.
"So, we get to start crushing some heads?" Shen asked with great anticipation. He cracked his knuckles, an act which greatly annoyed Xiao Lon.
"Oh yes my friend, that and so much more." Ash took the Ace of Hearts between his index and middle finger. He raised it up to his face and studied it again in great detail. Then, very slowly, he allowed it to be burned up in his green flames. When he was done the remaining few charred pieces fell to the floor.
"Time for you to get trumped, Kyo Kusanagi."
"So it's time already." Kyo carefully adjusted his gloves. He sounded fatigued, and far older than his twenty years.
"What's wrong Kyo? You look tired, didn't get enough sleep last night?" Benimaru teased. "You and Yuki were spending an awful lot of time together. Hopefully you weren't doing anything too exhausting."
"Shut up Beni, I don't need it from you of all people."
"Just trying to make for polite conversation." Benimaru looked over at Iori brooding in the corner. "Not like I'm going to get any of that with Yagami."
Iori continued to stand with his back turned, not even making one of his usual disgusted grunts in reply.
"Look at that guy." Benimaru continued. "I think I liked him better when he was threatening to kill us every ten minutes."
"Really Beni, just cut the crap already!" Kyo snapped at his friend. Seeing Benimaru's concerned expression, he felt remorseful, but could not bring himself to apologize.
"Look, don't go down this road Kyo. Whatever it is we have to face this time around, we will come out of this on top." Seeing that Kyo was not entirely convinced, Benimaru struggled to come up with a better motivational speech. "Oh geez, what would Goro say in this kind of situation?"
"If we end up facing him, you can just ask him straight up." Kyo awkwardly joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
Benimaru chuckled. "Yes, I guess that is always an option. It is strange how these things often work out."
"I bet you never thought we would team up again either."
"And you should be thankful we are. Just remember this Kyo, you've yet to win a tournament without me on your side, but I was part of the last tournament's winning team."
"Yeah, yeah, brag all you want about that, but you should also remember you've never beaten me in a one-on-one fight."
"One day that will change." Benimaru thought back to the time he and Kyo first met, getting caught up in the old memories. "But for now, you know what we have to do."
"Are you done jabbering yet?" Iori's comment cut through Kyo and Benimaru's good mood like a knife. The heir to the Yagami clan at last decided to acknowledge his teammates, and walked across the room to join them.
"Let's not waste any more time, Kyo." He shifted closer to his sworn rival, and locked eyes with him. "Or is it you're going soft? Would you like me to put you out of your misery now, before you embarrass yourself further?"
For a moment it looked as if Kyo would take a swing at Iori on the spot. His face contorted with rage.
"How dare you question my resolve Yagami?" Kyo shouted, pulling himself up to his full height in an attempt to gain some measure of dominance over the other man. "You'll see for yourself just how much stronger I've become. I'm not going to hold anything back this time, and I'll never allow myself to fall behind. Not to you and not to anyone else."
Kyo stormed out of the room, any doubts he had in his head banished in the rush of adrenaline he now felt. 'That damn Yagami, wait until he sees what new moves I've mastered this time!' he thought.
Back in the room Benimaru stared at Iori, standing utterly unfazed by Kyo's outburst. Benimaru could only wonder at just what the hell had happened. Kyo had gone from fatigued and shaken to fully pumped for battle in a matter of seconds, all due to a few taunts from Iori.
"That's better." Iori muttered. "He's no use to us otherwise."
Benimaru could not believe what he had just heard. Had Iori purposely done that to get Kyo focused and into a proper frame of mind for battle? In other words, was he was trying in his own way to encourage his teammate? No, that would be impossible… wouldn't it?
"What is your angle here Yagami?" Benimaru asked. "Ever since I met up with you back in Osaka your behavior has been all over the place. Is this some sort of mind game you're playing with Kyo? I won't let you manipulate him for whatever sick ideas you have planned."
"I don't care what you think of me Nikaido. This is between me and Kyo, and that bastard with the green flames. You're just here to fill out the ranks, so don't get any big ideas about what your role is in all of this." Iori did not even bother to look at Benimaru as he spoke, and after finishing he brushed aside the other man as he made his way for the door.
'My, oh my.' Benimaru thought. 'This is turning out to be far more complicated then I had expected.'
Any further investigation of Iori's behavior would have to wait however. Benimaru prided himself on his professionalism, and he intended to make a good showing at the opening ceremonies and preliminary matches.
His female fans demanded nothing less from him.
It would only be a minute or two left now until the fighters would be called out into the main arena. Ranma and his team were waiting in a small room just off of the main hall. It was odd, Ranma had never really participated in formal tournaments during his training, and he had mostly blown that stuff off during his time in Nerima, but here he was about to debut in the biggest one of them all. How were his teammates taking all of this?
"So Ryoga, you feel ready?"
"Ready?" the other teen thought about it for a moment. "I have no idea. I have no problems with fighting, but I'm about to be seen by millions of strangers across the world. A couple of weeks ago I was barely known outside of Nerima. I don't know how to feel about that."
Ranma smiled, he was amazed at Ryoga's honesty, and he had to admit his friend was right this time around. "You got me there. I guess our lives are about to be changed forever, huh?"
"And this time I really can blame you for it Ranma." Ryoga said half-jokingly.
"Heh, and how are you feeling Mousse? Feeling a little anxious?" Ranma asked the amazon, who was carefully polishing one of his swords.
"To the contrary Ranma Saotome, I feel very confident. I know I will win, because there is no other option in this case. To achieve my goals, I will crush anyone who gets in my way."
"Oh, scary stuff there man." Ranma taunted. He might have been more impressed by it if he was not so familiar with the real Mousse. The dork was probably sweating bullets underneath all that bravado; he was just doing a good job of covering it up.
"Just remember, you're also one of those people I'm going to crush." The light glinted off of Mousse's glasses gleamed as brightly as it would from any of his blades. "So don't get too used to this teammate stuff. This is only an alliance of convenience."
A young man rushed into the room. He seemed to be German, but he spoke to Ranma in Japanese.
"Mr. Saotome, please have your team ready to go in the next minute. Miss Bernstein is planning to give an address to all of the competing teams in the stadium. Failure to comply will result in disqualification." With that the man exited the room as quickly as he had entered.
"Looks like we're up," Ranma said to his teammates as he made for the door. "And lighten up Ryoga. This is hardly the worst situation we've been in, not by a long shot. Let's just take this one step at a time and see how we do."
Ryoga picked up his trusty umbrella and gave a confident glance at Ranma. In spite of all of his apprehensions and doubts, he knew in his heart that this was what he wanted more than anything, to be able to prove his worth as a martial artist before the whole world. And even though he would never admit it out loud, there was no other man he wanted to fight alongside more than Ranma. This time there were no crazy conditions or life-and-death situations to mar it either, they would be able to fight for the pure thrill of it.
As they entered the hallway and made their fateful march towards destiny, for the briefest of moments three young men stood as one, their conflicts and rivalries left behind.
"Let's hurry Nabiki, we're running late as it is!" Akane shouted at her older sister as she ran up the stairs.
"Yeah, yeah, Freddie, I know the odds." Nabiki spoke into her cell phone. "Of course I know that the initial setups for the matches are random, I still want you to bet on these guys anyway! You do your job and we'll both make a fortune on this."
"Is money the only thing you care about?" Akane called back. "Or should I even bother asking this question anymore?" she huffed as her sister continued to ignore her.
"No, that's my younger sister, so don't get any ideas. Freddie, you know you're not as smart as you think you are. Just do it already, unless you want to be replaced. God only knows you aren't the only bookie in Europe." Before her newfound 'associate' could argue further, Nabiki ended the call.
"I hope you realize just how much you're inconveniencing Kasumi." Akane continued. "She went on ahead to hold good seats for us up in the VIP box, but that doesn't give you the right to take all day with your crazy betting schemes."
"Akane, listen very carefully to me. Schemes they may be, but crazy? Oh no, that your fiancée and his merry band of brothers' specialty. I put a lot of thought into what I do, that's why I always come out on top."
"That's true for Furinkan, but this is a whole different world Nabiki. I'm worried you're getting in over your head sis."
Nabiki smiled at her sister's concern. Akane was a sweet girl, but she always played things so conservatively. How was she ever going to get ahead if she wasn't ready to take risks?
"Are you listening to me Nabiki?" Akane was fuming at this point.
"Yes, let's not keep Kasumi waiting any longer. Besides, I heard the VIP box has free concessions and that's a deal I can't pass up." She rushed past Akane before her sister could lodge another complaint.
'Nabiki, you are never going to change, are you?' Akane thought with great disappointment. 'I hope you are right though, that you know what you're doing and don't get in trouble. I would like to think that this time around you will actually help our family out.'
"Who's the slowpoke now?"
"Nabiki!"
Shampoo looked down on the stadium field from her seat, squinting to get a better view of things. The fighters had not arrived yet, but the scattered support staff looked like ants to her. Were these the best seats that her Great-grandmother could get? It was supposedly a good section, with an excellent view facing one of the giant monitors ringed around the arena to magnify the action, but for a serious martial artist like Shampoo that was a poor substitute for being able to view things up close.
For that matter, why was she not in the tournament? It really did not suit her to be a spectator while that idiotic Mousse of all people got to compete. She was the strongest female amazon of her generation after all!
"Child, you are letting your mind wander again." Cologne brusquely tore Shampoo from her thoughts.
"Sorry, Great-grandmother."
"I know you want to be down there instead of stuck in the bleachers, but that was no fault of your own. I am sure one day you will have a chance to prove yourself, but for now you must be content to watch your husband as he faces these foreigners."
Cologne truly sympathized with the girl. When she was a young woman, Cologne hated the idea of being left out of a good fight. Of course those fights tended to be life-or-death struggles for the fate of the Amazon village, so it was kind of a big deal if she got sidelined. Shampoo should at least consider herself lucky enough that she was not in a similar position.
"You know Great-grandmother, I was wondering about something." Shampoo went on.
"What is it my child."
"If Airen does win the tournament…"
"That is a very big if, Shampoo."
"Great-grandmother!" she pouted.
"I am just trying to be realistic here. My son-in-law has tremendous potential as a martial artist, I would have never invested so much in him if that were not the case, but that does not mean he can win this tournament. There are a lot of strong fighters in this world; you saw that with your own eyes when he was defeated by that American."
"That was a fluke!" Shampoo protested. "That foreigner had a lot of tricks, but tricks only work once! If Airen fought him again, I don't think that blondie would get off so easily."
"Tricks? I don't think you give that other man enough credit. But even if you are correct in your views, there are still at least a few other opponents out there who could overwhelm your husband. It would take a stroke of amazing luck for him to win it all, although I think he can clear at least the first few rounds of competition."
And that would play right into her hand, the old master thought. Once he was defeated, who would Ranma turn to for new and more powerful techniques? But there would be a higher price for them this time, oh yes. If he wanted to learn them he would have to come back to China with Shampoo, no exceptions. In fact this whole experience could help to break down some of the boy's ego, and make him more willing to listen to Cologne's advice in general. That would not be the worst thing that could happen.
As for that fool Mousse and his half-baked schemes, they could go to the devil.
'For his sake he better not make a poor showing out there. That boy is one of the strongest we have produced in a while, and I would hate for it to go to waste. The amazons need to make a good impression on the world. It might just be our key to surviving another generation.'
"Great-grandmother, I think it is you who is now letting your mind wander."
"Be quiet child. An old woman is allowed to dream once in a while."
The sunlight poured down on the competitors as they entered the stadium. Ranma could hardly believe how bright it was. Or maybe his senses were being put into overdrive by the intensity of the moment? No, that would be ridiculous! He was Ranma Saotome, he could handle anything! Well anything not including cats, male pattern baldness, and irate teenage girls.
'There sure are a lot of people out here. The stands are packed.' He noted to himself. It made sense. He had seen a lot of regular people heading to the stadium the other day, so of course they were all going to be here watching him now. That was not counting all the other people watching at home on their televisions. There were camera crews all over the place, taking shots of everything and everybody.
Akane and her sisters must be watching him as well, up in the VIP box, set far apart from the ocean of faces. He wondered if anybody else was up there watching him too. Mousse and Ryoga had both said that it was a given that Cologne and Shampoo would be coming, and Ranma had heard that Ucchan had been trying to get herself over to Germany as well. Had she made it? It would be nice to have his friend supporting him even if he could not see it. His Mom and Dad along with Mr. Tendo must be watching back in Japan, not to mention Hiroshi and Daisuke and everyone else from school. Heck, maybe even the Kunos were watching. That would be reassuring in an odd, slightly creepy sort of way.
Beside his team, all the other fighters were out on the field as well. In fact Ranma, Ryoga, and Mousse had been one of the last teams to take their place. Ranma was not sure if that was a good omen or not, but regardless he refused to allow it to affect his mindset.
From his position towards the back he could see Ryo and Robert, and who he assumed was Ryo's sister Yuri standing over on one side of the stadium. Terry and his team were nearby, and not too far away from them were Billy, Lynn, and Pepe.
Then he noticed a strangely familiar presence around him; like someone whom he had met before. He looked around trying to get a bead on it, and his vision settled on a cloaked figure about twenty feet from him.
'Who is that guy?' Ranma thought. 'His aura feels real familiar, but it's like its being deliberately held back to throw people off. Should I go over there and check?'
"Something wrong Ranma?" Ryoga asked. He too had sensed the familiar presence, but had no better luck at figuring out who it belonged to.
"That guy in the cloak, there's something up with him."
At that moment, the cloaked figured turned his head and locked eyes with Ranma. In an instant, the pigtailed boy recognized the mystery man, and he nearly gasped in shock.
"Taro." he numbly said.
"Taro? What, you mean Pantyhose Taro?" Mousse turned to look at the figure, and recognized him as well. "He's in this tournament? How the hell did we miss him yesterday?"
"He must have been hiding, that bastard. He didn't want us to blow his cover." Ryoga said bitterly.
Taro continued to stare at Ranma, and he smiled wickedly at his rival.
'Good, you understand how screwed you really are, Ranma Saotome.' Taro though. 'This time, your allies won't be able to save you, and there won't be any way you can trick me in a straight up battle. I just hope our fight doesn't come up first, I want you to ponder your wretched fate for just a little longer.'
"What are we going to do about him?" Ryoga said.
Ranma thought for a moment on what Taro's presence in the tournament signified. It was unexpected, but did it change things? No, it did not.
"What are we going to do about him? That's simple Ryoga. I'm going to kick his butt!" Ranma proclaimed boldly. He stuck his tongue out at Taro and taunted him. "You don't scare me Taro, and guess what? You never did!"
Taro's face contorted into a snarl and he turned his back to Ranma once more.
'That boy won't be cocky for much longer. I will crush it out of him, bit by bit.'
"That was a stupid thing you just did there Ranma." Ryoga looked exasperated.
"This is the big leagues Ryoga. We can't let guys like that intimidate us. You think Taro is any tougher than the other fighters?"
"He's tough enough. I don't think the three of us together could beat him in his cursed state."
"Eh, I'll figure out a way. I always do."
Ryoga did not bother to respond any further. Squabbling with Ranma was not going to make a difference now. He just hoped Ranma could back up his claims this time.
Trying to draw his mind off of Taro, Ranma thought about the other fighters around him. He wondered what must be going on in their heads right now. Hardened pros like Ryo and Terry must have considered all this passé by now…
"Why didn't either of you tell me that Marco was here?" Ryo had been put into a lousy mood from this revelation. "I thought he was back in Sao Paulo visiting his parents!"
"Give us a break big bro!" Yuri shouted back at him. "It's not like we saw him until now. Are we supposed to do everything for you? "
"Yeah Ryo, why is it our fault here?" Robert was of course backing up his girlfriend on this matter, something which Ryo did not appreciate, and he showed his disapproval with a withering gaze.
"Why did you even believe that story in the first place?" Robert, unimpressed with Ryo's attempt at intimidating him, went on. "Marco had just gotten back from visiting his parents when we went to Japan. Why would he be visiting them again so soon?
"I just thought he was a really devoted family man!" Ryo countered lamely, somewhat flustered. "Besides if you already figured that out, why didn't say anything, Robertina!"
"Oh for the love of Pete, the guy has his own life outside of the dojo. I figured it wasn't my business to be prying too deep in it. I say good for him that he got here."
"You can say that because he's not your student." Ryo grumbled. "Dad is going to go to hit a wall when he finds out a student slipped into the tournament without being cleared first. And by 'hit a wall,' I mean he's going to use me to hit it with." He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
Even the pros could get caught off guard sometimes.
At long last one of the giant monitors flickered to life, and the giant visage of Rose Bernstein was displayed for all to see. Everyone in the stadium became quiet as they focused on the image. Ranma had to admit that Rose was a lot younger (and more feminine) than he had expected, but something about her immediately put him off. Maybe it was the dissonant serenity of her features, or maybe it was just her huge red eyes. It was probably the eyes. Even without firsthand experience (and he had more than enough of that) he knew you had to be wary of someone whose eyes were the color of blood.
"Warriors, I welcome you to this year's King of Fighters tournament." Rose began. "It has been far too long since our last meeting. As you can see, I have expanded the number of teams allowed to enter this time in order to broaden the competition. I believe that these changes, along with others I have made, will allow the King of Fighters to remain the world's premiere venue for the exhibition of martial arts.
"That being said, there might be some confusion as to how this year's King of Fighters tournament is organized, so allow me to explain the rules briefly for the benefit of our participants and the audience.
"We have changed the format of the matches again. The tag system in place during the last two tournaments has been retired. In place of it we have adopted a new system for organizing matches. This system is based around points, and these points are earned by winning matches. Each team member will be randomly paired off against an opponent from the opposing team. A victory against a regular member is worth one point, but if a Team Captain is defeated, two points are earned."
"Excuse me Miss Bernstein." Terry interrupted, his powerful voice travelling across the stadium. "Now I admit math has never been my strongest subject, but doesn't your system mean that there is a possible four points to be won by a team during the match? So what happens if each team scores two points? Do you call it a draw?"
Rose gave off an odd smile, as if she had expected Terry to ask that question.
"Perceptive as always Mr. Bogard, and you make a valid point. However, you are well aware that all King of Fighters tournaments have been subjected to judging over the years, and that in the last tournament there was a system in place to keep track of how many blows a fighter got in during the match, how many counters he managed to pull off, among other technical points. This was used to decide a match which ran out of time. This year it will be extended to resolve potential draws. So remember fighters, we will be judging you on style and aggressiveness as much as anything else, so be sure to keep things interesting, because it might bring you victory."
'They want me to keep things interesting?' Ranma thought as he smiled. 'They don't know who they're dealing with here! I could win all of my matches on that standard alone.'
"The matches will be divided into three individual rounds." Rose continued on. "Each round will be a maximum of twenty minutes in duration. In a case where time runs out, the judges will again be called in to decide the victor.
"Other than that, there is only one other rule in place for these battles: no killing. You can do whatever else you want, use weapons, break bones, beat your enemy into a coma… but do not kill them. I hope I do not need to overstress the importance of that. The penalties for breaking that rule… will be very unpleasant to say the least."
"That being said, the tournament will begin right now." Rose continued. "Our computers are generating the first matchups as I speak, and will be revealed in just a moment."
"They never let me have any real fun at these tournaments." Shen sneered to his teammates. "I don't even know why I keep showing up for these things."
"It's a quaint little setup for sure." Ash mused. "But I think it's to my liking." He played with a stand of his hair as he considered the possibilities.
Xiao Lon meanwhile looked across the field, her eyes transfixed on one of the fighters.
'It cannot be.' she thought. "What is the Third Crown Prince doing here?'
The other fighter caught a glimpse of her as well. The effect of his powerful gaze caused her heart to sink.
'I never wanted to fight you… Duo Lon." Xiao thought miserably. Why had it come to this?
"Don't let him get to you dear." Ash said to Xiao casually. "Old Duo there just doesn't know what he's doing. That wicked Betty, she's led him astray."
"She's not all bad. I see she brought that kung-fu bastard with her too." Shen said excitedly as he focused on Gato. "I've wanted to smash in that smart mouth of his for awhile now. He won't even be able to beg for mercy when it's all over."
"Patience Shen, I need you to pace yourself. You have a lot of other people you need to defeat first." Ash looked up at the screen again, and smirked.
"I wonder how that "computer" of ours is working."
"So now Master, which teams would you like to see go first?"
The girl who asked this question had slender build with a boyish appearance. She was cloaked in an ornate black robe. Her straight yellow hair was matted around her head like a thick shell, giving it more the appearance of a helmet than a natural part of her body.
The Master laughed. "Yes, which ones should go first? So many choices, but I think we should go for something unorthodox, that the masses will not expect." His right hand touched a small keyboard built into his massive throne. An image then appeared on a large monitor that the girl sat in front of.
"Oh, what a wonderful choice Master!" Her eyes narrowed over the data. "I will send it out immediately."
The Master lounged back into his throne. "I hope this proves to be interesting as I imagined. Heh, break a spine out there people!"
"Yes? We have the results?" Rose asked one of her off-camera assistants. "Very good then, I will announce them." The assistant walked over and handed her a small slip of paper. She put on the best smile she could as she prepared to read it (just like the voice in the back of her head told her to).
"The first match will be… the team of B. Jenet, Marco Rodriguez, and Tizoc versus… the team of Ranma Saotome, Ryoga Hibiki, and Mous-say."
A huge cheer rose out of the crowds as they heard the news. At long last the time had come! One person was not so pleased however.
"It's Mousse damn it! Mousse!" the male amazon yelled in rage at the screen. "How hard is it to mess that up people? Screw this all, I should have just gone with Mùsī of the Nǚjiézú. It couldn't have been any worse than this!"
As much as Ranma and Ryoga would have normally taken delight over mocking their comrade's discomfort, they were both too shocked by the revelation that they would competing in the first match of the tournament to even notice it.
"We got picked first?" Ryoga asked in astonishment. "What were the chances?"
"I don't know, as good as anyone else's I guess." Ranma felt his confidence quickly surging however. "This is great thought! No waiting for us, we get right into the action!"
Meanwhile, the Jenet team was coming to terms with the news as well.
"So our first opponents are a bunch of school kids?" Marco said disappointedly. "I was hoping for one of the more established teams."
"No, I like it this way." Jenet said. "Those guys will make for a good warm-up. It doesn't hurt that they're really cute. What do you think Tizoc?"
The big man shifted his head to the side, as if in deep thought, although it was hard to tell with the elaborate mask that covered his entire head. After a few seconds he replied.
"I can't speak for their looks Miss Jenet, but I think you are right otherwise. Those boys look like they understand the meaning of battle. I look forward to this. It's going to be a good day!"
"All other teams will now immediately clear the stadium floor." Rose said as she restored order to proceedings. Please stand by however, you can be called back at any time for your match. The Tenth King of Fighters tournament begins in earnest now. I wish all of you good luck." Her image then vanished, replaced by a close up of the arena floor.
As the thirty other teams filed out of the stadium, leaving only the picked two behind, a swirl of emotions surrounded them. Old hatreds, new friendships, hopes for the future, bitter memories of the past, they all came together. It seemed almost overwhelming to the spectators, distracting them from the impending match, but they quickly settled down and focused on the unfolding battle.
Ranma looked hard at his competition from across the field. How strong they were? What tricks did they have up their sleeves?
He realized there was no time to guess, his team about to find out firsthand.
End Chapter
Wow, this was a much harder chapter to write then I initially expected, and I even had it pretty well planned out beforehand. The good news is that the fights start next chapter, and I've already started writing them. It's all coming together nicely, and it's a relief to finally get to the meat of the fic after some two hundred pages of setup. Two hundred pages? Wow, it's strange to write that.
A note on one of the names in this chapter, Muhsin is an Arabic name meaning "benefactor." I thought it was wonderfully ironic considering the situation.
Next chapter will be posted in three weeks.
I also want to thank Jeschura for the German in this chapter; it gave a nice touch of authenticity to the scene.
Other news? King of Fighters XIII has been scheduled for a July 20 release in Japan, with the American and European versions to follow in the next few months. That's the arcade version, if you want to play it on a console, then you're in for a longer wait. It should be worth it though.
Also, there was a sad bit of news in the Ranma community. Robert O. Smith, who was the voice actor for Genma in the English dub, died earlier this month of cancer at the age of 67. He was an awesome guy who did work on a number of other anime series as well, including the Fatal Fury movies. Rest in peace Mr. Smith, you earned it.
That's all for now, until next time, take care!