Chapter 3: The Bar
The men marched merrily down a street in Kabukicho, ostensibly looking for a bar large enough to hold all of them comfortable. In the midst of the assorted warriors and mages (and one police officer) were the five Kitsunes – three of which had decided that the evening might well be enjoyable after all – the first part had certainly been amusing. Those three were chatting with the men amiably. However, the Kitsune Akio was silently fuming. "That was a major fail," he thought to his brother, Ayumu.
"We couldn't anticipate that the red-headed girl was going to disobey her manager," Ayumu replied, trying to calm his brother down. We can still ditch the boys at the next stop."
"They are not boys!" Akio mind-spoke. "The Elders have pulled a fast one on us!"
"Why would they do that?" Ayumu challenged. "They don't know what we are up to. We just have to be patient. Sooner or later we'll get Ono alone and kidnap him."
"How? The Elders forbid any real magic in the boys' presence!" Akio replied. "And if one of them ends up sick or in the hospital, Ono will call the night off – we need to make them go home somehow on their own."
Ayumu was silent for a few minutes. Then he said: "Let's stick with the idea of boring the hell out of them first. Maybe if they see us as a bunch of old maids, they'll take off. If that doesn't work, we can see how strong their tolerance is to alcohol; young men are very susceptible to peer pressure. Maybe we can stick them in one of the hotels to sleep it off and keep the party going.."
"We'll see…" Akio grumbled.
Finally, Olaf called a halt and pointed at one particular bar named "The Black Swan". He yelled out: "All right, lads! That's our place. Let's go!"
"Huzzah!" was the common cry, even from the non-mercenaries.
Olaf led them in and the bartender immediately called out to him: "About time, Giant! I thought you'd forgotten about me."
"Not a chance!" Olaf answered back. "I bought three kegs ahead of time so you'd hold part of the bar for us."
The bartender grinned. "Lead them towards the back – it's all yours."
The men streamed around the tables deliberately changing who sat with who. Ranma was with two Kistunes, Mausu, and two mercenaries he just met. Mousse was with Akio, Ayumu, Daran, Wales, and two other mercenaries. Ryoga and Ojima were surrounded by mercenaries who were curious about the two men and the remaining Kitsune, Jak. Olaf kept close to Tofu who was holding court in a corner of the bar room – it also allowed Olaf to track everyone.
Akio looked to be in a sour mood, but that didn't stop Ayumu, Daran, and Wales from discussing what could only be described as obscure philosophy. One of the two other warriors, an obviously bored American dressed in a denim jacket named Othan, looked across a Mousse and asked: "Have you ever played darts, lad?"
Mousse shook his head and said: "I've thrown lots of darts, but never as a game." Then he asked: "How do you play?"
The American motioned Mousse up and led him to a dart board cabinet. The other mercenary, a Spanish man named Artel, followed them. Othan opened the dart board cabinet and took out two sets of three darts. "We throw these at the target. Some of the scoring can get complicated – and ridiculous – so let's keep it simple. Each wedge is worth the points shown. This area doubles points; this area triples. The near center is 50 points, and the bulls-eye is 100 points. We do ten sets of three, alternating each set."
"Let me see the target," Mousse requested. Othan stepped out of the way. Mousse touched the target and seemed to map it out with his hands. Then he mapped out the cabinet and touched the wall. "All right," Mousse agreed. "But I warn you: I'm very good at throwing things."
Othan smiled and said a little condescending: "All right, I've been warned. I'll take my chances." Mousse nodded at him. "Loser has to pay for the bar to repair any nicks in the wall," Othan added.
"That's all right," Mousse agreed. "There won't be any."
With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Othan led Mousse over to the foul line and said: "We have to stay behind this line. I'll go first." Mousse just nodded, so Othan threw three darts: 50, 100, 100.
Artel pulled them out and motioned for Mousse to throw: 100, 100, 100.
Two sets of eyebrows rose as Artel pulled out Mousse's darts and walked both sets over. "Interesting," was Artel's only comment.
Othan threw again: 100, 100, 50. Then Mousse threw: 100, 100, 100. Othan: 100, 100, 100. Mousse: 100, 100, 100. Othan: 100, 50, 100. Mousse: 100, 100, 100.
And so it went with Othan throwing perfect or near perfect rounds and Mousse throwing perfect rounds. After each round, Artel returned the darts without a word until after the eighth round. "You two jackasses know there's more to the board than just the center, right?" he taunted.
"Shut up," Othan told him. "I've heard about this, but I've never seen it before." He turned to Mousse and said: "Let's finish this first." Mousse just shrugged his shoulders and the two finished the game.
"I've never seen a perfect game," Artel remarked.
"I have," Othan said. "I've even thrown a few. I'd normally say that the lad has game skills, which he does, but there's something else here too. Watch this…" He went over to the bartender and called: "I need a blindfold!" The barkeep tossed a clean rag at him.
"You could just take off my glasses – I'm blind as a bat," Mousse said.
"I don't doubt it, kid. It's part of the condition," Othan told him. "But let's do it my way. He had Mousse take off his glasses and blindfolded Mousse. Then he held out the darts to Mousse, who took them with a small amount of hesitation. "Throw them!" Othan ordered. Mousse threw the darts: 100, 100, 100.
"Holy crap," Artel muttered.
Othan motioned Artel to retrieve the darts. Other members of the party began to notice what was going on and drifted over, including the Kitsune, Jak. Silently, Othan then motioned for Artel to pull the board off-center. "Throw again!" Othan ordered Mousse. Mousse nailed the center three times anyway.
"Are you going to do the last test?" Mousse asked.
"You bet your ass, kid," Othan said. "I've always thought your kind were legends." He pulled Mousse away from the line and spun him, shoving him even further back. Then he shoved the darts at Mousse. "Throw them!" he ordered
100, 100, 100.
Someone let out a whistle. Artel pulled out the darts and silently handed them to Othan who stood looking at Mousse. "Who's your Master?" Othan demanded as he took off the blindfold and handed the glasses back to Mousse.
"Ciren Blake," Mousse answered.
"That bitch…" he muttered. Then he spun away from Mousse and threw three darts in quick succession across the room at Tofu's shoulder. "YOU BASTARD!" he roared as Tofu snatched all three darts out of the air. "You actually found a Blind Fighter and gave him to Blake?"
Tofu grinned viciously. "You weren't available, Othan. She was."
Othan snorted and turned back to Mousse placing a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon kid," Othan said. "She may be teaching you weapons, but I'm going to teach you how to drink and keep your wits about you…"
"Not alone, you're not," Artel laughed. A few of the other mercenaries also echoed the sentiment laughing.
Ranma listened with amusement as Mausu recounted a tale of European intrigue and spying. There were two Kitsunes, Yul and Shiran, with him and two oversized mercenaries, Pauls and Jacobs. Mausu was pushing the boundaries of the believable (even allowing for the fact that two of his audience were mythological), but he still told a very good story. After the story ended and the table laughed, Pauls yelled: "Hey, barkeep! Could we get a couple of orders of nachos here?"
"You're lucky I know what they are!" the bartender yelled back.
"All right, but do you have them?" Pauls yelled again.
"Yes, I do. Hold on and I'll order them from the kitchen!"
Several others repeated the call, causing Ranma to ask: "What are nachos?"
"Mexican chips and dip," Shiran laughed. The Kitsune yelled out: "Two more orders over here!" Then he turned back to Ranma. "Corn chips with lots of cheese, spicy beef, tomatoes, and if we are lucky, very hot peppers," he added.
Ranma shrugged. "Sounds good, I like hot food."
"By hot, we mean extremely spicy," Yul clarified.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Ranma said as he shrugged again. Shiran raised an eyebrow and smirked at Yul.
When the food arrived, Pauls said: "Like this." He picked up a chip and pushed it through some of the cheese and vegetables.
Ranma did the same and popped it into his mouth. "Not bad," he said. "It's only a little spicy, though."
"Well," Shiran smiled. "You need to add some of those peppers on it."
Ranma did so, and bit down on the pepper and the chip. He chewed it carefully, but only noticed a little bit of heat. "It's nice enough," he said. "But it's nothing like Akane's volcano curry.
Mausu hid his smirk and said nothing – he had once eaten Akane's volcano curry and still had nightmares about it. The thief was sure being a Fire Mage had distorted the girl's sense of taste. She had learned to tone it down for mere mortals, and was now a decent cook, but every now and then, she cooked for herself only (the leftovers were kept in containers marked with hazmat symbols). Surprisingly enough, Ranma could also eat the volcano curry. He just said that she had cooked it perfectly. The young man also confided to Mausu that Akane's cooking had come a long way from the disasters she used to make. Mausu figured the earlier disasters must have destroyed Ranma's sense of taste too.
"Really," Shiran said with the same smile. "We must add a little more spice to it than just the jalapenos then. Hold on a minute." He snatched a menu from its holder on the table and looked down the list. Then he got up and went to the bar. Mausu pushed a button on the remote in his pocket and listened on his hidden earpiece to the Kitsune's conversation:
"What's up?" the bartender asked.
"I've looked at your menu and I want to make a special request – it's worth an extra 20000 yen if you're interested," Shiran said.
"I'm listening," the man said.
"My young friend thinks your nachos are a little plain. Think you can get us an assortment of peppers to spice it up?" the Kitsune asked.
The bartender grinned evilly. "How long do you want him in the hospital?" he asked.
"I don't, but I want him to grab his glass and beg for refills for the next hour. Give me an assortment that walks the scale," Shiran said. "I'll walk him up until he cries 'Uncle'. It might take a bit though – He's young and stubborn."
"I don't have any scorpions, but I do have habaneros and ghosts."
"Perfect," Shiran smirked.
"Oh, there's no way I'm interrupting this little contest," Mausu thought to himself with a laugh.
Sometime later, Mausu watched as a server brought the tray of peppers over, two more orders of nachos, and two glasses of beer. Oddly enough, it was the beer that first caught Ranma's attention. "I don't drink," the lad said.
"Then I'll tell you a secret about social drinking," Pauls said. "It's something that will serve you well in business. A mug of beer, a glass of wine, or a shot of liquor is all the same amount as far as getting drunk goes. If you're healthy, your body can get rid of one 'drink' in an hour. If you don't want to get drunk, stick with beer and sip it slowly. Take your time and stay away from wine, liquor, or mixed drinks."
Ranma glanced at Mausu who only nodded and added: "Also, guard your glass so no one dumps anything into it – either a refill before you're ready or something funny. If the hour passes and you haven't finished the beer, discretely dump the remainder on the nearest plant and order a fresh one. I've often used that trick to make it look like I was drunk when I was stone-cold sober."
"When you are on a job," Jacobs chimed in. "You never want to have a complete drink in you, so you time the beer to the clock – no more than half a mug in half an hour and space whatever you do drink over the entire time. You can hold the glass to your lips and look like your taking a long swallow, but always take the sip you're comfortable with."
"*Never* take a swallow if you don't want it," Mausu agreed. He was a little surprised to see the Kitsunes nodding discretely in agreement, but he went on anyway: "Learn to get use to the taste, though. You don't want to be wincing when you're out with the boss or a client. Food slows down the absorption if you can't spread out the drink, but there are limits to that," Mausu added again.
"I thought mercenaries were hard drinkers," Ranma said with a raised eyebrow.
Pauls laughed. "We are, lad! But you said you didn't want the drink, yet sometimes you need to look like you do, especially in a business situation. So practice with that one. We won't care either way – that's your beer. You're free to drink it or toss it."
"But if you decide you like it, you won't get another for an hour or so," Shiran teased grinning. "I'm not returning you back to your brother smashed. He'd have my hide stretched out in front of a fireplace."
The others at the tabled agreed with Shiran and laughed. Mausu noticed that one of the other Kitsunes at Mousse's table seemed to have a seizure with Shiran's words. "Oh, dear," he thought maliciously. "Another plan up in smoke?"
The spy then watched as the young man picked up the beer carefully and took a taste. Ranma immediately made the expected sour face and the men around him laughed. "Augh, it tastes like spoiled bread!" the pig-tailed young man burst out.
"That's about right!" Yul laughed. "And you do need to practice not wincing."
"To spoiled bread!" Pauls called out. The other men and the Kitsunes raised their glasses and took a drink. To their delight, Ranma appeared to do the same, but obviously took only a small sip (if any at all).
"Here," Shiran said pushing the nachos and peppers toward him. "This will get the taste out of your mouth." Shiran picked up one of the fish peppers with a nacho and ate it.
Ranma did the same and commented: "That's a little stronger than the other ones."
"The platter goes up in strength clockwise," Shiran told him. "Let's see who can get further around the platter without finishing their drink. Bragging rights to the winner," Shiran finished.
"You're on!" Ranma grinned.
"One second," Mausu said. He took Ranma's cola glass and refilled it. He placed it next to Ranma's beer when he came back and gave Shiran one as well. Then he placed a basket of bread in front of each man. "You start off even now."
Both men shifted until they were opposite each other with the platter between them. They both grabbed two fish peppers this time with the chips and ate them, watching each other's reaction. Jacobs leaned over to Mausu and whispered: "You're a bastard, thief. You know soda and beer are near useless for an overdose."
Mausu looked innocently at Jacobs and said: "And what would have happened to me if I went to the bar and asked for milk?"
Mausu watched the two men work their way around the platter. Neither of them batted an eye at Cheyennes, Tabascos, Piquins, or the Tien Tsins. The Jamaican Hots were the first sign of anything – Ranma took a sip of cola and Shiran had a sip of beer. The Hots were followed by three different Habaneros – White, Orange, and Chocolate – which marked the end of the crazy zone as far as Mausu was concerned. From here on in, everything was officially strait-jacket insane. Both men were starting to consistently take small sips of their drinks (both the cola and the beer) and little pieces of their bread.
Shiran tried to speak and had to take a sip. Then he said in a hoarse voice while pointing at each group: "Red Habenero, Habanaga, Infinities, Ghost." Ranma just nodded, but his eyes were starting to tear ever so slightly. Mausu figured they had surpassed Akane's volcano curry with the Chocolate Habaneros (and everything else in Ranma's stomach).
Slowly, the two started the death match again. They held it together through the last of the Habeneros, but Shiran broke out in a sweat midway through the Habanaga. Ranma couldn't gloat though – he couldn't stop the tears leaking from his eyes. Both men had shaking hands once the Infinities were gone. They both looked at the six Ghost peppers. Shiran drew in a deep shuddering breath and made a couple of hand gestures:
One, then two.
Ranma just nodded as his hand began to crush the edge of the table. They each reach for one, put it in their mouths and bit down. Ranma's resting hand snapped off a piece of the table. Shiran wasn't strong enough to duplicate the feat, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Ranma's free hand dove for his last two peppers, determined to finish the challenge even though he was in agony. Shiran was no less stubborn. Both threw two peppers into their mouths and both bit down at the same time. No one saw the two leave the table, but they did see that the back door was suddenly open and the door alarm was going off.
Ojima watched as Tofu poured more doped milk down Shiran's and Ranma's throats. Then he and ten other men witnessed as Shiran and Ranma threw the milk back up a third time. Through some magic (probably more literally than figuratively), neither threw up on themselves or each other.
Tofu looked at the results and nodded: "All right. I think that's the worst of it." He handed a cup to each of the sick men and said: "Drink this slowly now. It's straight milk and should stay down." They both sat back and did as they were told. "You know," Tofu started conversationally. "When I imagined people throwing up tonight, this wasn't quite the situation I thought would be going down."
Shiran seemed to shake himself and then reached over and squeezed Ranma's shoulder. "It's all his fault for being so stubborn," the Kitsune joked weakly.
"I had plenty of help," Ranma returned in about the same condition. There were chuckles from the crowd at that.
"Damn, I never had a ghost pepper get away from me like that," Shiran commented.
"You usually don't march through a course of Habeneros first," Tofu drawled.
"Bull. A lot you know," Shiran answered.
"You do this regularly?" Ranma said with a shudder.
"I love spicy food," Shiran said. "I thought I had you from the get-go."
"That's because you haven't met Ranma's fiancée, Akane," Mausu said. "Ranma wasn't kidding about her volcano curry."
"Meal of a thousand nightmares," Tofu agreed.
"The community doesn't let her eat it outside of the house," Ojima added. "Hazmat lives in fear of that stuff and if her lunch box ever fell in one of the canals, we'd have a drought on our hands."
"Hey, it's nothing like she used to cook – even she couldn't eat that stuff," Ranma protested.
"True – when she makes volcano curry, she means to make it that hot," Tofu admitted.
"I have *got* to come over for dinner sometime," Shiran said. There was more chuckling at that comment.
The color came back to Ranma's face first and he stood up by pushing back against the wall. Then he helped Shiran stand up. "Damn, you heal fast, lad," the Kitsune said.
"Come back inside, both of you," Tofu said. "Have some bread and stick to lighter fare for the rest of the evening," he added firmly. "And hide your tail, Shiran – it's showing."
Shiran concentrated to do just that, and then he and Ranma leaned on each other to walk inside. "Still," the Kitsune commented. "It felt like all those later peppers hit harder than they should, and I would swear my mouth tastes a bit like Scorpion pepper too."
Up on a roof several blocks over, Tomo appeared in human form and danced gleefully. He had done it! He had managed to prank his teacher, Shiran! Too bad that Ranma got caught too, but he would shake it off quickly. Tomo took out the bottle of Scorpion Sauce and looked at it. "I even managed to do it while Yul was watching!" he thought. "I can claim victory over him as well!"
Tomo continued to dance about, not noticing that the cap was not on as tight as it should have been. Nor did he notice that his hands were starting to tingle from the drops leaking out. Had he noticed this, his brain probably would have stopped him from kissing the top of the bottle in celebration, which is what he actually did do next.
It was fortunate that he was in human form. Otherwise, his fellow Kitsunes would have recognized his yells. As it was, the police spent several hours looking for the human child who had been screaming in pain for 30 minutes straight….
A/N: Next up - The Strip Club (and maybe some answers to why the mercenaries gave Ranma - and Ryoga and Mousse - the drinking lesson instead of letting them fall on their faces...)