Catharsis

by Sgt Ranma

Sequel to Officer Saotome. Several years since the events of OS, Ranma has grown self destructive and weary by his own past and what he has become. His salvation is in rising back to what once passionately stirred his soul, what made him strive to be better, earning his place among new friends and allies. His path lies in hardship to attain... Catharsis.

5. Chapter 4 Was Yesterday

ATTENTION: THIS STORY IS A SEQUEL TO "OFFICER SAOTOME", A FIC I COMPLETED IN 2010.

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Catharsis

Chapter 04 ...Was Yesterday.

Nerima, Tokyo

Tendo Home

00:04 HRS

"Why, Ranma?! Why?"

Ryouga shook his friend's unresponsive body. He couldn't let out more than a few words. His lungs felt stuck in his throat.

Behind him, a mess. Ryoga turned around to ask for more help, a desperate plea his mind hoped would pass this surreal situation into something… better.

Kasumi's lips had pursed and she slowly backpedalled, her hands close to her chest.

Akane trembled in shock, crying simultaneously as she had been monotonously voicing out to Ranma's still body. "Ranma, you're going to be okay. Wake up please?" she had said out aloud, to surrounding deaf ears.

Ryoga breath went rigid, along with his chest and back at the sight of the two. He first looked at his wife, her cheeks glistening wet from tears that continued to stream. She was saying something, he realized. But damn it, didn't she hear him too?

"-up please? Ranma… Wha-, Ryoga what is it? What are you trying to say?"

Ryoga thought he frowned as his lips continued to hang and his jaw felt numb, locked in place. He glanced over to Kasumi this time, who had turned from the scene and started walking back to the dojo entrance, and into the main house.

I need some help! He's not responding or breathing! Come on, Akane! We need to save him!

Akane's eyes continued to cascade as she slowly raised her hands to grab Ryoga's face. Her eyes were still intense, crackled hues of red from the bloodshot early hours of the morning. Her hands squeezed intensely at once, startling Ryoga to a gasp.

She then slowly relieved the pressure from his face and then she cupped his shoulders.

"Ryoga...honey...what is it you're trying to say? You've been staring blank. Help us."

Ryoga gulped and his eyes shot open. He released a breath that lifted the weight of the shock off his shoulders, if only for a moment.

"Akane… Ranma… He's not breathing... He's not responding… What do we do?"

As both of them looked down, waiting for a delayed reaction of an emotion that was appropriate for this, a splash of hot water drenched all of them. Akane and Ryoga looked behind, dumbfounded, and saw Kasumi standing with a bucket.

*GASP*

Kasumi dove in along with her sister and brother-in-law as a now male Ranma gasped and coughed for air.

"Oh my god!"

"He's- he's!"

"Thank god! It worked!"

Kasumi whelped as she hugged his soaked body and then firmly slapped him across the face.

"Ow!"

Akane slapped the other side with equal, and on her terms gentle, force.

"Ouch!"

Ryoga stopped himself from making a fist, and instead his arm cocked back and swung with a flat palm against his back.

"HEY! That FUCKIN' HURT!"

The others just collapsed in face palmed exhaustion. The sisters laughed in nervous defeat. Ryoga sat up and scowled.

"You piece of shit… what in the fuck were you thinking?"

Burp. Ranma looked around, but everything was dim and nothing was in focus. His head was ringing with the melody of various jackhammers. His guts felt like they were having a luau, with his stomach doing hula hoops around his ass.

"I, what the… what's going on?"

The others looked at Ranma with various daggers. This slowly melted into defeated concern.

"I'll go set up a pot of coffee," Kasumi said first. She got up and wiped the tears off her face with the sleeves of her pajamas.

Akane nodded. "I'll help you up."

"Let's talk about it, Ranma. That's why you got family," Ryoga said. He wiped his breath and let his chest heave and slump, his body enveloped over Ranma's.

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~Three Months Ago~

Tokyo, Japan.

Nerima - Rte 72 - Local Expressway

2245 Hours

"This is unbelievable. How can you overlook a security breach this serious?!"

Ranma clicked off the handheld mic's transmit button and swung his arm, smacking the empty passenger seat.

The radio speaker squelched. "We're lucky we even got this tip at all, sir! Tokyo Metro Intel shot this through to us like a rocket. You of all people know sir that the police do not do ANYTHING with that level of urgency!"

Ranma grit his molars shut. "Are you guys sure?" He barely breathed out on the mic. "There's no doubt about this?"

"We caught the chatter. She's next, then your other one, the Okonomiyaki chef who's married off in Okayama is their next target. We're fuckin' sure, Ranma. We got their mobile phones cloned and tapped and we've been listening for you. No doubt about it, SIGINT* surveillance from our cooperating liaisons confirmed that they are going after your friend. She's the next best fuckin' thing next to your buddy Nabiki Tendo. They're out for blood."

Ranma gripped his car's radio receiver mic, the handheld plastic trembled under the pressure of his gripped hand. "These assholes. When will they ever give up?"

The voice on the other end of the radio crackled. "We're in contact with Tokyo Metro PD to send us an ERT dispatch.**. There are no SAT*** assets who'll be able to give you backup in time.."

Ranma floored the pedal to his car. His left hand hastily clicked for a destination on the GPS.

[SEARCH DESTINATION]

He clicked a few more.

[Fastest Destination] NEKOHANTEN.

*SIGINT - SIGnal INTelligence -

**ERT - Emergency Response Team - A specialized unit of the Tokyo Metro Police Dept Riot Police's Anti-Firearm Squad Units (I know, it's a handful)

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Shampoo bowed, turning away from the customers who had been served from her now empty tea cup. She looked at her grandmother with cheeks pursed with just a hint of her eyes darting towards the tables behind her. It was the same look she'd give when rowdy customers gave her more trouble than it was worth.

Cologne regarded the six men who came in and took up three different tables. Her eyes glanced at the well appointed jewelry adorned to their tailor cut suits. All of their shined shoes bore a cracked mirror finish, the most interesting detail, Cologne thought.

Businessmen with fine shoes may walk a lot, but they maintain and took care of their well-heeled name brand shoes. These shoes showed the creased wear of a more physical nature. Like those from kicking and running.

She approached the center of the room and eyed them all evenly. "May I take your orders, honored customers? I assume you are all in the same party?"

Most of their faces quickly glanced at her and turned away. One man returned her cool, soft eyed glance. "We hear this is a great place from a friend of yours."

Cologne nodded, the confident grin of entrepreneurial pride was well earned in her mind. "We love hearing from our customers by word of mouth. Thank you."

The man didn't return her smile. His hands were flat on the round table. From near the entrance to the kitchen, Shampoo observed the tap of his right index finger on the tablecloth as it seemed to restlessly bunch up towards his fist.

"This friend of yours," he continued. "Was once a real good friend of ours."

Shampoo's left arm gently reached for a kitchen knife that had been left on a counter, out of view from the sitting guests.

Cologned stamped her staff down and thinned her eyes. "I'm too old to play these charades, young man. You're obviously not here to eat. What do you gentlemen want?"

Fists now clenched fully on the table cloth, he reactively pushed himself out of the chair and stood up. The rest of the men followed suit, their hands inching towards their jacket pockets.

"We have a fucking message for Nabiki Tendo and all her friends. Payback's a bitch!"

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By the time he pulled up, there were already scattered residents approaching the restaurant. His car screeched to a halt, nearly hitting one of the pedestrians who had stared at the Nekohanten with wide eyes, mouth hanging.

As soon as Ranma's foot exited the driver's door, a dull boom resonated from within the restaurant, the unmistakable percussion of gunpowder in full recognition to his veteran ears.

His throat dry and hands clammy, Ranma ran towards the trunk of his car to grab a case. Nearby, the concerned gasps and murmurs of the people gawking slowly descended into panic as several more gunshots crashed the still night air along with the sounds of crashing furniture and broken glass.

Ranma charged for the entrance, and with all the might of his lungs he screamed at everyone outside.

"Police! Get away from the restaurant! GET AWAY IT'S DANGEROUS!"

The curtain of beads that characteristically adorned the entryway of the Nekohanten caught in the tangle of Ranma's hands as his body lunged inside, his shoes nearly slipping as the weight of his body tore through the marbled decoration.

A black rifle slung over his head quickly came up aimed and at the ready, his eyes trained down the sights. Ranma's hands clutched at his M4 Carbine, checking his peripheral in what seemed to be an impossible narrow tunnel of vision. The thick elongated can that was his suppressor felt like it was on the other end of the room as he looked down his iron sights.

The bodies on the floor were immediate and obvious as male. Wooden scraps from broken tables and linens draped and soaked in tangled bodies were strewn in a defensive circle, away from the kitchen.

Teeth clenched, Ranma stepped towards the door with his stance crouched and legs swinging in a level gait to keep the aim of his rifle steady. As he approached the kitchen he heard heavy breathing, and then the familiar high pitched whelp of a young girl.

His first reaction was a breath of relief, seeing immediately that Cologne and Shampoo were alive by the very reaction of their faces. Another two bodies lifelessly accompanied them, one on top of the kitchen prep table and another across from his Amazonian friends.

Shampoo sat on the tile floor, her grandmother next to her clutching a wounded arm. Shampoo's hand was over a crimson patch of her dress, the essence of her life oozing between her fingers as they desperately applied pressure.

Her face lifted to meet Ranma's. His mouth hung slightly, his lower lip trembling. She creased her eyebrows, unsure of how to react. She kept looking down at herself, then to her grandmother, then to Ranma. Tears formed, but her eyes were of confusion… strained with bloodshot veins from the leftover fear.

"Ra- Wha-. I mean… Ranma? What's going on?"

Ranma's left hand reactively wiped the streaming tears from his face as his hands fumbled for his cellphone.

"It's gonna be alright. I swear to God it's going to be alright. We're gonna get you to the hospital and you're gonna be just alright, Shampoo," his voice cracked.

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Nerima, Tokyo

Tendo Home

02:01 HRS

"Yeah, we all remember that," Ryoga said as he put his hand on Ranma's shoulders. "That was savage."

Akane's own bloodshot eyes looked across her husband and once-former fiancee. She looked at how Ranma allowed himself to lay in Ryoga's lap, like a child in the much needed embrace of a caring parent.

"What did you mean, Ranma?" Akane dabbed away her puffy eyes for the umpteenth time tonight. "You said you'd given up. What did you mean by that?

Ranma continued to lay in silence, as if Akane's questions had never reached him.

Ryoga turned her way and gently shook his head. "Let it go," his lips moved.

He was in no state of mind to give them an answer, but it didn't stop his own mind from answering it for himself. He knew what he'd meant by it.

He knew why. But they could never.

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SODA-POP Phase

FAST

Day - 7

1025 Hours

"Carry, on and make sure swim buddies keep each other accountable, Chief. You know the drill for this exercise, let's see who works together." Kimura nodded and fist bumped the shoulder of the round faced man in front of him.

The thirty seven year old nodded. He turned sharply on his heel and ran off in his distinctive bluish black JMSDF uniform. He resolved to make sure not only his swim team stay together, his whole boat crew would stay together.

That was the secret, he told himself. Running to a stop where his large ruck pack was left on the ground, he hoisted it above himself and secured the 30kg pack to his back and strapped it secure.

Twelve groups, all separate boat crews gathered eagerly for his word. Many eyes couldn't help but glance at his batwing insignia, embroidered in gold. It represented the Japanese Maritime boarding unit's elite special operations force, their best of the best.

They awaited the word of the current Class Leader in Charge. Special Boarding Unit's senior non-commissioned officer, Chief Petty Officer Tetsuya Tamura.

His round face and friendly smile were cemented with reassuring confidence in the sharp, yet quietly undulating tone of his voice. "This is a timed evolution, 10km forced march ruck in the sand. Time limit is 75 minutes."

A splatter of wows and sighs spread like fever in all the boat crews.

"I'm not finished, people. One rule was given to emphasize: Stay close to your swim buddies. Keep yourselves accountable. It's my guess that helping your swim buddy is more important than any other task here, but it's not a pass for us to fall behind standards. I think that one will be a given! I think the cadre expects us to watch each other... period! Boat crews included! That means all of your teammates!"

The crowd felt their spirits lifting. A mix of cheers erupted from the wet, cold, and sandy gangle of recruits. The other old-timer in the selection class, SFG Master Sergeant Seiji Goro nodded silently with proud, pursed lips that barely contained the ear to ear grin that threatened to spill across his face.

The sound of a whistle blew from the training cadre. Kimura's eyes narrowed as he lifted the handheld mic for the PA speaker that was strapped to a shoulder sling. "Get moving ladies. This evolution has now begun!"

At the crack of his voice, 65 tired and scrambling bodies criss crossed and hollered their way into a basic formation with their packs strapped and secured.

The tally was rough, and within one week what had been a parade of people had been chopped to bits.

Natsumi double checked the laces on her boots, having experienced another recruit being shamed to DOR from having his laces break during an evolution. She looked over to Miyuki, who was being given a pep talk by Raiden with his bright orange jumpsuit now replaced by a more consistent uniform that everyone shared… raggedy, sandy, and wet camouflage utilities.

"Kobayakawa, remember to keep positive thoughts and keep repeating positive affirmations. This shit sucks but you can suck it up and spit it out, alright?"

Miyuki sighed as she swirled grits of sand that seemed to be perpetually stuck in her mouth and spit it out for the umpteenth time. "Thanks, Raiden. I really appreciate it."

He nodded and bounced off back to his crew, who were in equal need of encouragement.

Another female candidate bounced in and tapped both Natsumi and Miyuki on the shoulders. "Best of luck, ladies. We're lucky to get this far, we can certainly finish it." Her short purple hair was a stark contrast to the long hair she had shown off just a few days prior.

Natsumi nodded, knowing full well what the buxom Rika Minami meant by "lucky". Just the day prior, the one female recruit from the SDF Ground Forces' Airborne Rangers had rolled her ankle and washed out 3 other candidates who resigned in shame. Now it was her, Rika, the mysteriously resilient pony-tailed Ranko, and…

"Let's get through this, let's get through this…" Miyuki mumbled with her eyes closed, her hands gripped and pulling on her pack straps.

"One foot in front of the other," Natsumi encouraged.

"Forward, march!" someone yelled from the front

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Nerima, Tokyo

Tendo Home

03:04 HRS

Ranma gulped the pitcher of water as fast as he could. He felt the stab of the concerned eyes staring at his back. He stopped mid gulp and then lurched. His head pointed outside the dojo veranda, he stepped past the edge of the laquered wood patio floor.

Ryoga and Akane winced as they saw a stream of fluid shooting out Ranma's mouth and into the yard. His heaves echoed in the dark, empty hall of the gym.

"Sorry you had to see that." Ranma wiped his mouth.

Akane nodded. "Feeling better?"

Ranma reached for his throat and winced at his rawhide neck. "Like all the mallets you ever hit me with combined at once."

Ryoga couldn't help but hold his hand over his mouth and let out a chortle. He turned around and saw his wife, exasperated.

"I'm kidding." Ranma swished some water in his mouth and spat it back out. "I promise I'll clean that up."

"Forget about it," Akane sighed.

Ranma squeezed a smile from his gut. Akane's eyes softened in response and she slumped her shoulders, her palmed hands wiping away the tears from her bloodshot eyes.

Ranma leaned his left arm against a doorway beam and turned away from Ryoga and Akane. His eyes looked at the darkening horizon, the moonbeam at its lowest.

"I've always thought that if I tried my best, everything would work out. That God had a plan out for me and he'd look out for my best interests," Ranma said aloud, glancing back at the weary couple.

Akane's arm raised up to interject but Ryoga grabbed her and put a finger to his own lip. "Let him finish," he whispered.

"Thing is I never considered I'd get in my own way. That'd I'd be the instrument of my own pain." Ranma shook his head. "I tried to be a different man from my pops."

Ryoga and Akane both looked at each other, then looked back at him. "You are," they both replied in near unison.

"Yeah, different alright." He reached into his pockets for some cigarettes, only to find they were wet from jumping in the pond earlier. He squeezed them and tossed it aside.

They can never know, Ranma thought. Not this.

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SODA-POP

FAST Phase

HELL WEEK +2

0312 Hours

Command Master Chief Ken Kimura rubbed his eyes as he opened the flap of canvas in front of him and stepped outside into the freezing wind. The entire class of surviving recruits stared as a small pocket of warm steam escaped from his lit tent, fiercely heated by electric heaters connected to gas generators running outside.

"My, oh my." Kimura smacked his lips and took a view of the remaining candidates. "Lt. Mao, how many recruits are remaining, m'aam?"

Sipping her steaming hot thermos of tea, Melissa Mao shivered in her thick USMC field jacket and handed him a clipboard. "We have nineteen remaining candidates, 5 more DOR'd while you were resting Master Chief."

He nodded in thanks and grabbed some of her tea for himself. "Shit, that hits the fuckin spot El-Tee."

"Doesn't it? British black tea. Weber brought it from Europe."

Kimura crossed his arms to observe the remaining participants of this misery as they sat in warmed thermal pools, submerged up to their wastes. A close group of training cadre kept an eye on them, yelling at them with warnings.

"This is meal time only, do NOT waste it on sleep. Anyone caught intentionally sleeping will have the entire class sent to the surf for torture."

Kimura looked and found himself unable to smile. "I always hate this part of training, you know."

"Remind you too much of BUD/S, Master Chief?" Mao asked.

"And when I was part of the BUD/S training cadre, too." He reached into his pocket for a crumpled soft pack of Camels.

Mao reached for a cigarette and offered a pointy blue torch flame from her windproof jet lighter.

Kimura blew out a thick cloud of smoke into the -1 Celsius air. "Thanks LT."

"You're very welcome, Master Chief."

He looked at his watch and then rubbed his eyes again. The temperature was dropping further and cold water torture at this point was reckless at the state these trainees were in. The near arctic waters of Hokkaido were far more frigid than the winters at Coronado or Norfolk.

"LT, assemble the class at the end of their meal for high speed running back to the hangar. It's getting way too cold to continue evolutions in the water so we'll stick with calisthenics and leadership drills until noon, and then allow them a 135 minute sleeping evolution."

Lt. Melissa Mao nodded, but looked warily at him. "I know you're not one for giving breaks, what do you have planned?"

He smiled wistfully. "I'm here to test their souls, not take them away. Nevertheless, we'll do mind games. Get on the ATV and have 'em dunk in the surf, then lead them for a 16km boat crew march. You then tell them after 2km that we're heading right back to the hanger."

"Ouch," Mao winced. "That's a nice prize at the end but man that's gonna hurt to hear the first order, Master Chief."

He shook his head sympathetically. "It's the business we're in, Lieutenant."

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The class leader, diminutive yet alert, stood tall as she blinked through her own sleepiness. She spat out bits of her red hair that had come loose from the ponytail. "We're setting up to go in 5 minutes!"

"What!?"

"Oh God… this is going to suck!"

"Did they say 16 km?"

"Did they say get in the SURF first?"

Apparently most had missed that part.

"Get in the surf?!"

"In this cold?!"

"Ranko are you sure about that!?"

Ranma sighed as she looked at the crowd. "Yes you knuckleheads, I heard it loud and clear. Don't let the fact that there's four fucking girls here chewing the same dirt as you stop you from whining."

This got every single one of the men from sleepy and miserable to alert and miserable in an instant. A round of cheers and curses of encouragement were thrown right back at Ranma, and that included Natsumi and Rika as well.

Miyuki stared thin lipped, her legs and hips still submerged in the warm spring from where they were previously eating. She had been shivering non stop in this soul-crushing weather, chilling her thoughts and her capacity to think of anything other than to be reminded of the cold.

She braced to see everyone position their boats by the surf. They'd done this exercise many times before, even in longer lengths. They'd jump in as a class, into the frigid surf. Immediately they'd gather by their boat crews and then start running with the rubber Zodiac boats perched on top of their heads, trotting along in an intense if slow and cadence pace.

That surf, looked black and empty as a moonless night. The whitewater over the sand crashed with now numbing intensity, her brain had conditioned to ignore the crashing sounds of the noisy ocean. It had been her daily soundtrack for over three weeks.

"Natsumi."

The short haired brunette splashed some hot spring water on her face and arms as many others had been doing to anticipate the cold. "What is it, Miyuki?"

"We're good cops, aren't we?"

Natsumi paused. Even in the haze of this ridiculous torture session of military might, small talk was not on her radar of expected conversation. "The hell are you talking about, Miyuki? We're about to run 10 fucking miles. Lets get this shit over with," Natsumi grunted with unexpected impatience.

"This isn't worth dying for, Natsumi." Miyuki just shook her head. "This is just stupid games for stupid prizes. And we don't even know what the prize is!"

Oh shit, Natsumi thought. She shut her eyes real hard and tried to focus. Raiden had talked to them at length about this. That everyone had their own breaking point, and as a team we all had to get through it together. And everyone had to do their part.

"Hey we just got through the first day of hell week, I'm sure it can't get any worse after this." Natsumi pleaded with a slumped postured, grabbing Miyuki's shoulders. "Come on, Miyuki. Let's just get through this."

"You're my swim buddy right? If we go, we go together. There's no need to die a cold miserable death just to get a job!"

Natsumi locked up. This misery hadn't gone any easier for her either. And her physical limitations as a woman were mercilessly reminded to her by her ruthlessly vocal trainers. "They won't let us die here, worse case we don't make it anyway... but it's better than quitting!"

A familiar grunt came from nearby as he prepared to get his own body out of the warm springs and towards the icy waves. "One foot in front of the other, soldier," Sergeant Goro said aloud. "There ain't nobody here shooting at us. If you're gonna die, it's because you wanted to. I doubt the fine people over in the cadre will just let us die from the cold, no way they'll embarrass themselves with that degree of incompetence."

Another friendly female, still with them, came quickly to Natsumi's side. "Miyuki, honey. I know it's rough. But you can't ask your swim buddy to quit with you. Now let's all get the hell up and get it over with."

Miyuki opened her mouth to protest. "I'm not asking her to quit… it's just too damn careless for us to suffer and possible freeze and die out here! What the hell are we doing running in the freezing beaches of Hokkaido?!"

Natsumi felt her eyes water and cheeks start to quiver. Rika violently grabbed her and dragged her away and out of the water.

Rika nearly growled as she felt the stinging bite of the night air as she pulled out of the hot spring. "Miyuki, we're all sick and tired of the same fucking cold! But it doesn't help us to sit around listening to you justify yourself! Now if you want to quit then QUIT! But DON'T fucking ask Natsumi here to go along with you like you're doing her a favor!"

And with that, they ran towards the surf, leaving Miyuki behind wide mouthed and silent.

Natsumi nearly tripped over her own feet and tried to look back as she was dragged along by Rika and her forced grip. The second both their bodies hit the freezing salt water, any thought of the past disappeared.

Miyuki watched as 18 people scrambled to get in under 3 different boats in crews of 6, rearranged organically without a second thought by the very point of her absence. They started to run away, trudging in unison as the heavy rubber craft bounced on their heads in rhythmic agony.

Melissa Mao walked along casually to a still, and wordless Miyuki. Crouching to her closely without stepping in the warm water, she leaned in to her.

"It's not too late to jump in and catch up with them, you know." Mao said.

"..."

"You know as well as I do they're running painfully slow with those boats on their head. Just get your ass up, jump in the kiddie pool, and catch up."

"No, maam."

Mao inhaled. "You sure about that?"

"..."

"The bell is by the tent. I've got warm tea and some blankets in the truck."

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Natsumi wiped away her tears again as she ran up the hill, pushing as fast as her legs would allow her.

Just a few more seconds, and back in the warm indoors, she cried.

The few others around her were in similar moods and sentiments. They'd all cried tears of joy when the run was called short and they were told to run as fast as they could back to the warm, quiet safety of the hangar.

"I think we can make it through the week if we can make it through this, lads," one of em said aloud as they ran in unison.

Boats still attached to their heads, they enthusiastically made it back to the enormous embrace of the concrete hangar, the same one in which they'd originally staged in when they arrived at this training "resort".

The 25 degree celsius interior of the concrete jungle felt like a cocoon of warm syrup as they marched into the garage. Most of them rejoiced in the moment. None, including Natsumi could think of all their classmates who had left them. It was already a long, fond memory in the fog of the misery and sleepless torture.

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Upstairs in the dormitory, given the room all to herself, Miyuki snored into the deepest slumber her body had ever known. Warm and dry, she curled into a fetal position on her bed, facing Natsumi's empty bed.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma, Tenchi, You're Under Arrest, Full Metal Panic, and any other anime/manga characters here who are mentioned by name. Just having fun writing.

Hello, folks! SgtRanma here. I deeply apologize to the few readers who still follow me for leaving you on the hook with that rather depressing and nasty ending of the last chapter. I should've had this chapter written first and had them released in tandem.

I'm writing slowly still and trying to keep this in some part of my life, however it gets tougher to spend time with as I deal with my own growing pains of being a father and family man.

So some notes from this… as you can see for years, in fact MANY years I've always been meaning to make a fic or story with Natsumi as a main character and as a character that I've always wanted to expand on from the YUA universe. I grew up watching You're Under Arrest from the EARLY 90'S for crying out loud... and since then I've grown to appreciate Natsumi Tsujimoto as the far more interesting and nuanced character between her and Miyuki.

Also, the selection training sequences are out of order on purpose. It is told in a non-linear format.

So here's to hoping I don't spend more than another year before the next chapter. But nevertheless, I hope to hear from all of you good or bad.

Completed April 20th, 2018.