Relatively Absent

by Togashi Gaijin

Chapter 10: Interregnum III

Imperial Palace - Sunday, March 6th 1994

“Hiro.”

The young telepath heard someone calling his name from a great distance.

“Hiro.”

Hirohisa groaned and groggily wondered whose apartment he had ended up at this time. It had been almost a year since the last time he had gotten this blasted. Hopefully he’d remember her name.

“Damn it all, Hiro, wake up.”

If only Ryushi would shut up. Man, doesn’t he know that the next shift isn’t until …

Wait a minute. Ryushi?

It took a great deal of effort for Hirohisa to open his eyes. Right afterward, he almost wished he hadn’t bothered. He was too hung over to cope with everything being that bright and loud.

“It’s about time, Hiro. You’re just lucky I was the one to check in on you. You know how Mugonno-san reacts when you fall asleep on the job.”

“Jeez, Ryushi, at least you could have let me …”

The fuzziness left Hirohisa’s thoughts in a rush of adrenaline. The headache – and a BIG one at that – remained behind. He wasn’t at home, he wasn’t staying over at some girl’s, he had been called into work and the last thing he remembered was …

Oh, wow.

“Hey, are you all right, man?” Ryushi asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Aspirin. I’ve got a headache you wouldn’t believe.”

“In the cabinet where it always is. Here, let me get you some.”

Hirohisa massaged his forehead with both hands, trying to rub some of the pounding out of his head.

“Man, you must have really tied one on last night,” Ryushi said while rummaging through the supply cabinet. “I haven’t seen you this blitzed since you tried to out-drink that tall American babe last year.” Ryushi chuckled. “What was her name, anyway? Here – catch!”

Hirohisa looked up just in time to see a bottle of aspirin quickly traveling in his direction. He somehow managed to catch it before it beaned him between the eyes.

“Thanks. Mary Jane, I think.” He struggled with the cap for a few seconds before he was able to retrieve a half dozen of the precious painkillers.

Ryushi nodded. “Some guys have all the luck. Mary Jane, huh? Man, she was really one stacked redhead. I’ve got to hand it to you – you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Redhead?!? Hirohisa scrambled at his desk until he found the scanning checklist he had earlier set aside. It was … She was in the last limo … let’s see …

“Ranko Yamada.”

“Huh?” Ryushi responded.

“Ranko Yamada,” Hirohisa repeated. He turned to the security terminal and began rapidly accessing the surveillance database.

Ryushi groaned. Hiro had that look in his eyes again. “Damn it, man, you know better than to use the Directorate database for your escapades.”

“That’s not it – this is legitimate,” Hirohisa replied. He quickly navigated to the record in question then made several updates in various fields. “… And here you go,” he said, making a small production of hitting the Enter key.

Ryushi glanced over Hirohisa’s shoulder and whistled. “Man, she’s cute, I’ll give you that.”

Hirohisa grinned. “That’s an old pic – let me show you how she looked today.”  Several mouse clicks later and an enlarged still from the earlier surveillance tape displayed on the monitor. “That pigtail was cute, but look how gorgeous she is as a redhead.”

“Daaa-aaamn.”

Hirohisa nodded.

“Okay, so she’s a major babe,” Ryushi said. “Still, she’s a bit young, don’t you think?”

“Wouldn’t matter,” Hirohisa replied with a shake of his head. “This gal is special.”

Ryushi laughed. “You say that about every girlfriend you’ve ever met. How long did the previous one stick around, a whole month?”

“You don’t understand. There are very few Talents who can maintain a Null Cloak for any length of time, let alone hide a Cannon Trap behind one. Someone who can do that is special by anybody’s standards.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ryushi said. “Look, I’ve got to get back to my post. My break is almost over.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, man.” Hirohisa stared at the image on his monitor while Ryushi left the monitor room, closing the door behind him. After a minute or two of memorizing every detail, Hiro voiced a long sigh.

“I’m in love.”


Shiba

“Any change?”

“Not yet.”

“Need a break?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.”

“Do you know when Setsuna will be back?”

“Later – she didn’t say for certain how long she’d be gone.”

“Need anything from the kitchen?”

“No thanks. I’ll wait until after we switch places.”

“I almost wish something would happen. All this waiting around is driving me nuts.”

Michiru – Sailor Neptune at the moment – smiled in amusement. Haruka never did have a lot of patience, and the last twenty four hours had tried even her own.

“Do you think she’s right about this not being the Silence?” the blonde senshi asked.

“I wouldn’t know. It would be nice if it wasn’t. I’m fairly certain not knowing is why she went to see Usagi.”

“Yeah, right,” Haruka said with a snort. “As if Dumplinghead could possibly have any answers to this.”

“She is the Princess, love.”

Haruka sighed. “Yeah, but that doesn’t seem to count for much with Usagi. The world needs her to be Serenity all the time – not a hyperactive crybaby schoolgirl who plays at being the Princess like it was some sort of game.”

“Don’t you have faith in her?” the aqua-tressed senshi inquired softly.

“Well … yes … sort of,” the blonde replied. “It’s kind of hard to ignore our last encounter with her. But I’d sure have a lot more faith in her abilities if she could only be serious about all this.”

“She is what she is, love. I doubt that will change much.”

“I know,” Haruka growled. “That’s what worries me.”


Juuban

“Good evening, Meiou-san,” Ikuko Tsukino said, greeting the tall green-tressed woman at the door with a smile. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you, Tsukino-san,” Setsuna replied, slipping her heels off in the genkan. “Is Usagi home at the moment by any chance?”

“Yes she is, Meiou-san,” Ikuko said. “Usagi-chan’s upstairs in her room. Right this way, please.”

Setsuna followed Ikuko up the stairs to the second floor hallway. Ikuko led her down to the last doorway on the left.

“Usagi-chan? Meiou-san is here to see you,” Ikuko caroled out, stepping quickly to one side.

The door to Usagi’s bedroom was thrown open barely two seconds later. “Setsuna-san!”

Setsuna found herself the target of a world-class glomp.

“SetsunasanImsogladyoureokayIwassoworriedaboutyouandHotaruchaneventhoughCrystalsaidyou
dsurvivedandisntitexcitingwehaveanewsenshiHaveyou…”

“Usagi?” Ikuko said.

“…seenHotaruchanorHarukasanorMichirusanyetIreallyneedtotalktoeveryonesowecanbefriendswit
htheGatesnewsenshisoChibiUsachanstaysrealand…”

“USAGI!”

“Eeeep!” Usagi let go of Setsuna and leapt backwards all in one motion. Unfortunately, the intended path back through the open doorway behind her was not traversed as she had intended.

Thump.

“Owie!”

Ikuko giggled. “Usagi-chan, you and Meiou-san should probably discuss your business in your room instead of out here in the hallway.”

Usagi stood up slowly, rubbing the back of her head where it had made contact with the edge of the doorway. “Yes, Mama.” She waited for Setsuna to enter before following her in.

“And don’t forget to close your door all the way,” Ikuko called back as she began walking back down the hallway to the stairs. “You know how your brother is.”

“I know, I know. Thank you, Mama.” Usagi shut her bedroom door and bumped up against it briefly with her shoulder before walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. Setsuna had already sat down in Usagi’s desk chair, which was a little too small for her to be comfortable in.

Usagi turned a radiant smile towards the older senshi. “Setsuna-san, you don’t know how happy I am to see you – I just can’t wait to see Hotaru-chan again, too. I’m really really glad you came over here ‘cause I’m grounded until school is out except for senshi stuff and even then Mama wouldn’t let me go out and help the rest of the gang look for you two.”

Setsuna started when the import of Usagi’s last sentence registered. “You told your mother about the senshi? Don’t you realize …”

“No no no, that’s not it at all,” Usagi interrupted. “Mama found out by herself, and she’s actually been helping us hide it from Papa and Shingo.”

“How long has she known?”

“Ummmm, since about the time Chibi-Usa showed up,” Usagi said. “Mama said she overheard me and Luna talking that evening and it didn’t take her long to figure out the rest.”

“I see,” Setsuna said with a slight frown. “At least she’s the only one who knows.”

“Well …”

Setsuna looked sharply at her princess. “There’s more?”

Usagi nodded vigorously. “Mama knows. So does Mina-chan’s dad, Ami-chan’s mom, and Hino-ojiisan. Mama thinks Hino-ojiisan’s known the longest – which is why we’ve never been interrupted when we meet over at Rei-chan’s.”

Setsuna shook her head. “How did the Timestream get diverted that far back?

“Anyway,” Usagi said, leaning forward towards the older senshi, “what’s she like?”

Setsuna gave Usagi a puzzled look. “Who?”

“Khronos,” Usagi replied. “Our new senshi. The girl who took over for you as Gate’s guardian. You have to have met her already, and I need to know everything you can possibly remember about her so I can figure out how to be her friend. Crystal said we needed her cooperation if we ever want Crystal Tokyo to occur, so I have to make friends with her. So tell me: what’s she like?”

“Friends?!?” Setsuna stared at the younger girl in disbelief. “Usagi, the girl calling herself Khronos is not going to help create Crystal Tokyo. The only way we can put everything back on the right track is for me to regain control of the Key once more – and I’ll need the help of all the other senshi to do so. She is a formidable fighter.”

“Fighter?” Usagi frowned. “I don’t want to fight her; I want to be her friend. Crystal said we had to get her cooperation, and we can’t do that if we’re fighting her.”

Setsuna couldn’t help staring at Usagi again – it was almost as if the blonde hadn’t heard a word she had just said. And why would she be so … “Usagi, who exactly is Crystal?”

“Crystal?” Usagi smiled and tapped her moon brooch. “That’s what the Ginzuishou calls herself. She’s been telling me all sorts of neat things …”

Setsuna was getting a distinct feeling of déjà vu. This was not happening.

“… about the Silver Millenium. Hey Crystal, come on out and say hello to Setsuna-san.”

The older senshi gasped when a miniature image suddenly appeared between the two of them. “Your Majesty.”

“No, Protector Pluto, I am not your queen,” Crystal replied sadly. “I have simply borrowed her image as I was previously instructed to do. I am the Crystal of Life – as the Princess has previously stated. It is good to see that the Princess now has another Protector who exhibits such strength of purpose. However, I must ask how you could possibly have let events get so far out of hand as they appear to have gone.”

“Everything had been going according to Serenity’s plan,” Setsuna said, her composure quickly regained, “and everything can be put right once more when I regain control of the Key.”

“I doubt Gate will be all that cooperative with such a venture, Protector Pluto,” Crystal said.

“We will see,” Setsuna replied with conviction. She opened her purse briefly to retrieve a colorful business card, which she handed over to the other girl. “Usagi, here is my current number. Please inform me before you attempt to confront Khronos – I will do my best to make sure the other senshi are nearby to support you when you do.”

“Setsuna-san, I am not going to confront Khronos,” Usagi said, voice soft. “We need her cooperation.”

“Of course.” Setsuna stood up. “Now if you will excuse me, I must return back to Haruka’s penthouse. The situation there will undoubtedly require my presence when it finally resumes.”

“Oh, you’re helping Michiru-san and Haruka-san guard Hotaru-chan and Glaive,” Usagi said cheerfully while Setsuna walked towards the bedroom door. “When you get the chance, tell Hotaru-chan that Chibi-Usa-chan really wants to see her right away.”

Setsuna turned back to look at the odangoed blonde. “Usagi, I don’t know how long it will be before Hotaru can visit you. She is currently being held captive by … something. We will do everything in our power to ensure her safety and rescue her from whatever it is, but until then I must ask that you be patient.”

“Protector Pluto,” Crystal called out. “Guardian Hotaru is in no imminent danger – Glaive is currently watching over her.”

Setsuna stared at Crystal’s image. “That is the Glaive?” Her face turned white when the miniature Serenity nodded. “Then it is the Silence.”

“Not at all, Protector Pluto,” Crystal countered. “What you are most likely observing is the physical manifestation of Glaive’s defensive shield. Guardian Hotaru is quite safe.”

Setsuna found herself staring at the miniature Serenity again.

“However, I would urge extreme caution in dealing with Glaive, Protector Pluto,” Crystal said dispassionately. “While there is very little possibility of the Silence returning, that does not necessarily mean Glaive will automatically be inclined to be on friendly terms at first. He has been asleep for a long time, and is likely to be a mite … testy … when he no longer feels the need to protect his Guardian so diligently.”

“I see,” Setsuna replied, her face a frozen mask. With a nod the tall senshi exited the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Usagi stared at the spot Setsuna had just vacated for several long seconds, her face expressing her feelings of disquiet.


Imperial Palace, Tokyo

Ranma sat next to Midori and tried not to fidget. They were sitting opposite the Emperor in armless high-back chairs around a small oval western-style table, on which a variety of tea settings and pastry and snack plates had been set. The relatively small library-den and the seating arrangement all combined to make the whole situation feel “cozy” and it was making Ranma a little nervous.

“Please, help yourselves to the refreshments,” Emperor Hitomaro offered with a smile. “There is no need for formalities between the three of us here.” He plucked a piece of niboshi from a nearby plate and began nibbling on one end.

Okay, Ranma was now definitely nervous – no telling when the other shoe would drop. However, that didn’t prevent her from quickly scarfing down several omusubi before Midori’s poke to the ribs reminded her to slow down. At least that took the raw edge off her hunger. The three snacked quietly on the refreshments for several minutes.

Ranma took the opportunity to study the Emperor during this period. He was exceedingly handsome even now – his strong face, warm eyes, well-manicured hands, and ready smile combined perfectly with his silver-streaked hair, and his aura projected a confidence and strength of will only seen in those who were grandmasters of their fields. He also exuded a sincerity which could be felt across the room.

Ranma suspected it was going to be a really big shoe.

“Before we begin,” Emperor Hitomaro stated, “I want to request that you not be afraid of speaking plainly and to the point. I assure you that I will take no offense from anything which is said at this table, no matter how bluntly or acrimoniously the comment may be presented.”

Okay, make that a gigantic shoe.

“Ranma-kun,” Emperor Hitomaro said, “I want you to know how relieved we were when we found out you had survived your latest ordeal. The report from Matsuyama Hospital did not indicate anything unusual, so am I correct in assuming you are still locked in your female form?”

“Yes I am, Heika-sama,” Ranma replied. “Well, that certainly answers the question on how much they know about the curse.

“Please, call me ‘Hito’ if you would, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro said with a smile. “I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to assist you in recovering the item which will unlock your curse – a magical kettle, I believe.”

This was definitely well beyond the shoe stage by now.

“Thanks, but that’s not going to be necessary, Heika … err … Hito-sama,” Ranma said. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to return to my male form pretty soon. I’ve just got a few more things I need to practice is all.”

“That is good to hear, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro replied. “However, if you find later that you do need access to the kettle, we will be glad to offer whatever assistance you may need to obtain it.”

Ranma stared at the Emperor who had just offered the equivalent of a blank check. “This is getting ridiculous – no one gives out those sort of favors for free. Wait a minute …

“Okay, what did the old man promise this time?” she said with a little heat. “You said I could speak plainly, right?” Ranma continued without pause, not waiting for Hitomaro’s affirmative nod. “Tea with the Emperor, private audience, call you by name, open offer to help – I’m not that blind. How much did that fat fool of a panda sell me out for here and which one of your kids do I have to add to the list of fiancées I already – damn it, Midori, this ISN’T funny!”

“I’m sorry, Ranma,” Midori said, trying to fight back giggles. “I know that’s a natural assumption for you to make, but I seriously doubt the panda had anything to do with it this time.”

“You don’t know how many …” Ranma began angrily before suddenly halting. “Oh, that’s right … you probably do.” She looked over to the Emperor who was grinning in undisguised amusement. “So, I’m not supposed to marry one of your kids then, huh?”

“No, you’re not, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro said. “But you are quite right in assuming that there’s something I want you to do. The marriage we plan on holding this evening is for the two of you.”

“Wha……” Ranma closed her mouth with a snap. “Me and Midori?!? Damn it, I do not need this. I do not need this at all.” She looked quickly over to Midori before turning back to the man across the table with the first thing she could think of. “But we’re both girls …”

“A minor detail, and one easily corrected. I think it’s time for Midori’s identical twin brother Minoru Nakamura to make an appearance. Right, Midori-chan?” Hitomaro said with a mischievous smile.

“WHAT?!?” Ranma practically shrieked. “NO! Absolutely not! No WAY am I going to let anyone else get cursed. Uh-uh. Not going to happen. Period, end of story, no how.”

“Ranma,” Midori said, “I don’t need a curse to be able to pass as a boy. Your friend Ukyō doesn’t either, and – unlike her – disguise skills are a part of our normal training.”

Ranma stared at her cousin, surprised at Midori’s reaction … or lack of a reaction, to be more specific. It was almost as if the other girl had already known what was going to happen here tonight. The redhead looked deep into Midori’s eyes for several seconds before sagging down in resignation. Ranma turned back to face Hitomaro. “Can you at least tell me why? I’ve got enough crap going on in my life as it is.”

Emperor Hitomaro found himself laughing heartily. He began waving both hands “no” in front of his face when he saw the hurt look settle into Ranma’s expression. “I’m sorry, Ranma-kun, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just that … do you know how long it’s been since someone has actually had the courage to say ‘crap’ or any other swear word in my presence? Even members of my own family?”

“Oh,” Ranma said, going instantly into full blush. “Sorry,” she continued in a very small voice.

“Please, Ranma-kun, there is no need to apologize,” Hitomaro replied, an amused smile still tugging at his lips. “I truly meant it when I told you I wouldn’t take offense at anything said here in the room. In fact, I found it quite refreshing.”

“Err … thanks?” Ranma blushed even brighter – if that was at all possible.

“However, that doesn’t answer your question, does it?” Hitomaro said. “So let me answer yours by asking you one of my own. If you were suddenly given the chance to preserve a very rare and valuable form of the Art, would you?”

“Of course,” Ranma responded without hesitation.

“Even if it was difficult or embarrassing to do so?”

“Training is always difficult if it’s any good, and as far as embarrassment goes …” Ranma snorted. “I doubt you could find something more embarrassing than what I went through to learn the Hiryū Shōten Ha.”

Hitomaro chuckled. “So, marrying Midori-chan tonight with you being the girl in the ceremony isn’t going to embarrass you all that much, correct?”

“Aaaaaaahhh …” Ranma’s eyes bugged out, her mouth closing with a snap for a second time. “Damn it, damn it, damn it. Me and my big mouth.” She quickly regained her composure. “How could this possibly help preserve the Art?”

“Ranma-kun.” Hitomaro’s demeanor turned serious. “Do you know how many viable shadow clans still exist in our country?”

“Errr … a lot?”

“Fifteen, Ranma-kun, fifteen,” Hitomaro said. “Out of those fifteen clans, all but two of them are either tied directly to organized crime or engaged in decades-long blood feuds with other shadow clans. And one of those two clans is in imminent danger of dying out.”

“Okay,” Ranma replied, puzzlement clear in her voice. “What does all this have to with Midori and me?”

“Ranma-kun, exactly which Art has your grandmother been teaching your four cousins?”

“Ninjut…” Ranma stopped suddenly. “Oh.”

“Exactly,” Hitomaro said with a nod. “And as of the moment, you – specifically your female form – are the sole legal heir of the Yamada Ninjutsu Ryū.”

“What? I am? But …”

“Normally the Throne avoids getting directly involved in the internal affairs of other clans, even when it involves those with which we have had a long history of favorable relations – such as the Yamada,” Hitomaro continued. “However, the events which have taken place over the weekend presented us with an opportunity we simply could not ignore. Ranma-kun, how much do you know about your uncles and their families?”

“Umm, well, I think Grandma said I had two of them,” Ranma said with a touch of embarrassment. “Other than that, not a whole heck of a lot. I haven’t even gotten a good look at any of them yet.”

“I see,” Hitomaro said with a slight frown. “Do you know anything about the corporations your uncles either own or control in your grandmother’s name?”

“They do?” Ranma blurted in surprise. “I mean, um, no?”

Hitomaro nodded, having somewhat expected that particular answer. “What about the total net worth of the Yamada estate?”

A negative shake of the head.

“Current inheritance laws and tax rates?”

Another shake.

“Gift tax rules and rates?”

And another shake.

“Marriage gift tax exemptions?”

Yet another shake.

“I was afraid of that,” Hitomaro said. “Ranma, would you be surprised if I told you that none of your other cousins from your two uncles’ families have shown any interest in the Art at all?”

“That’s not exactly true, Heika-sama,” Midori interrupted before Ranma could respond. “Daichi-kun has been taking some kenpo lessons for the last two years, but I’ll admit that was mostly for appearances.”

Ranma blinked. “Okay, who’s Daichi?”

“Daichi-kun is Ichiro-ojisan’s eldest son. He and Taro-kun, who is Jiro-ojisan’s eldest, have both been courting me on and off over the last couple of years. It’s very likely Daichi-kun and I would have had to marry each other if Tomoko-obasan decided to force the issue when Hiroko-chan comes of age in a few months.”

Ranma gave Midori a very confused look.

“Tomoko-obasan is Jiro-ojisan’s wife; Hiroko-chan is their eldest daughter,” Midori said before Ranma could ask the question. “Hiroko-chan turns twelve years old the end of May.” Midori grimaced. “Just old enough to be legally married, Ranma.”

“WHAT?!?”

“She’d do it, too,” Midori said with disgust. “Tomoko-obasan’s been trying to get control of the estate ever since she married Jiro-ojisan, and he’d actually prefer to see the Yamada ryū just ‘go away’.”

Ranma sighed. “Oh man … Wait a minute. Aren’t you and Daichi …”

“No we’re not, Ranma,” Midori said, shaking her head and smiling. “Daichi-kun already has another girl he’s fallen head over heels for – the two of us are only friends, and casual friends at that. Now, Taro-kun, on the other hand …” Midori’s expression darkened considerably. “Well, let’s just say I would happily caress a tanto before ever agreeing to marry him. He’s a real sadistic creep.”

“Midori, don’t you even mind? I mean, I know it’s the Emperor, but you’re still being forced to marry someone you barely know. You can’t be too happy about that.”

“Ranma,” Midori reached over and took Ranma’s right hand in both of her own. “I’ve known for a long time that simply being a Yamada would result in Obāsama arranging a marriage for me, and I can think of no one else I would rather be married to right now than you.”

“Erk!” Ranma had certainly been right about the “minefield” bit earlier, and it didn’t look like she would make it out of this one intact. And how the hell had she missed the signs Midori was thinking about her that way?

“Anyway, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro interjected. “I think you can see that there’s a lot happening in your mother’s family which you really should be aware of. Quite a bit of which really should have already been explained to you by now.”

“Yeah, well, that really isn’t Grandma’s fault, Hito-sama,” Ranma replied. “I’ve been really busy trying to get a grip on everything that’s been happening recently, and I’ve spent a lot of time out on my own. Today, especially.” She finished with a nervous chuckle.

“I was rather curious about that myself, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro said. “I know your training allows you to be exceptionally difficult to find when you want to avoid someone, but there were a lot of people looking for you earlier today over an extremely wide area. I’m rather surprised, and impressed to be honest, that you managed to avoid everyone for the entire day – especially since I doubt you were aware anyone had been actively searching for you at the time.”

Ranma chuckled while she absently rubbed the back of her neck. “He he he … that would have been a real trick if they had managed somehow to find me. I … wasn’t exactly in Tokyo most of the day.”

Ranma, you really should be more careful about what you say at times,” Eiko cautioned.

Oh, there you are. I was wondering why you’d been quiet for so long.” Ranma thought back.

You had been doing very well on your own up until now, Ranma.

“Can you tell me where you were?” Hitomaro asked. “I will understand if you don’t wish to reveal it, especially if it’s a secret of your family’s ryū.”

Don’t worry – he won’t believe it anyway.

Ranma made a production of looking like she was thinking hard for several seconds before nodding like she had just chased down some elusive thought. “I think I was somewhere in Australia, actually.”

Hitomaro stared at Ranma for several seconds before nodding in agreement. “I can almost believe that, Ranma-kun, given some of the reports I’ve seen.” He suddenly chuckled. “At least the Americans will be glad to know their equipment wasn’t at fault. That is, if I tell them about it in the first place.”

“Americans?” Ranma looked back, the question plain on her face. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Possibly not.

You don’t have to sound so smug about it, Eiko.

“Don’t worry, Ranma-kun,” Hitomaro said with a smile. “I’ll keep that little tidbit of information private.”

“Okaaay …” Ranma drawled. “So, what next?”

“First of all, are you willing to go through with the marriage this evening?”

Ranma snorted. “It’s not like I really have a choice here, now is it?”

“Ranma-kun, you always have a choice,” Hitomaro replied firmly. “You could walk out the door right now and I wouldn’t think any the less of you. However, you’d be correct in assuming that doing so would have a huge negative impact on quite a number of people.”

“Like I said …” Ranma said with a sigh. “So what DO we do next?”

“I think it’s time for the two of you to change into something a little more appropriate,” Hitomaro said. “While the Shinto wedding ceremony is relatively short, the reception can take forever – especially one held here at the Palace.”

“Crap.”


Suzu Yamada was having a bad day. The last-minute invitation to the Palace had been a big enough surprise on its own. Having to rush the whole family frantically out the door, only to wait around for hours once they had arrived was bad enough. But finding out the true reason why the clan had been assembled at the Palace was a real shock.

Thing had been going so smoothly for so long, too. Even with Midori’s recent absence, she and Daichi appeared to genuinely like each other. A match between the two of them would have certainly worked out in the long term, and even if they didn’t love each other at the moment they would have easily grown into it as time went on. At least they wouldn’t have been actively unhappy together – which wasn’t at all bad for an arranged marriage these days.

More importantly, it would have kept the estate out of Tomoko’s hands and given Hiroko-chan at least the possibility of a normal childhood. Sure, the taxes would have hurt – but losing only a quarter of the estate would have at least allowed Daichi and Midori to keep Yamada-ke in the family. If Hiroko-chan had been forced to marry, the taxes would have been double – and that’s assuming Okāsama wouldn’t just pass up the exemption entirely and let the estate suffer from the full seventy percent inheritance tax after she was gone.

Suzu set her cup down and looked over at her mother-in-law with admiration. She had to hand it to the old lady – hiding Ranko’s birth like she did and keeping it secret from the rest of the family over all these years was simply masterful. And disowning her daughter had simply helped to confuse the trail further without breaking the direct lineage Ranko needed to remain the legal heir. The girl was obviously Nodoka’s biological daughter as well. Suzu had no doubt a DNA test would verify this, the resemblance was entirely too strong to be coincidental. It had been extremely well played from the very beginning.

The only thing that was even the least bit odd was the selection of Midori to be Ranko’s “husband” – and if the rumors about Midori were true, which it now appeared they were, even that slight oddity made sense. Midori could easily pass herself off as a male long enough for the wedding to take place, especially since the Emperor would almost certainly choose the Shinto ceremony to go along with the current “traditional” theme. They didn’t even have to worry about any future generations, either – Ranko’s twin brother would undoubtedly be more than happy to help that process along if asked.

Suzu quickly glanced around the English-style drawing room where Empress Chikako had escorted the three Yamada women just a few minutes ago. Heika-sama was sitting in what was obviously her favorite chair. Aiko and Nodoka were sitting next to each other in one of the long sofas, which had left her by herself in the other sofa across from the Empress. The room was very English, and there were lush arrangements of tulips, narcissi, and cut azalea branches sitting on virtually every open table surface.

The Empress made a minor production of setting down her teacup. “Ladies, will you share sake with me tonight?”

Suzu almost fainted.

“Please … call me Chikako. Aiko?” The Empress waited for the Yamada matriarch to acknowledge before turning to her daughter. “Nodoka?” Another nod. “Suzu?”

Suzu swallowed nervously before nodding in turn. This was more serious than she could have possibly dreamed if the Empress insisted on dispensing with ALL protocol, let alone the total “off the record” confidentiality she had just agreed to. All of the implied messages from the Tea Room suddenly took on a deeper and more sinister aspect.

“Aiko, you have undoubtedly figured out by now that the wedding will be held tonight,” Chikako said, having turned back to face the elder Yamada. “First, I must ask if you know whether or not Ranma’s curse is still permanently locked.”

“Unfortunately, it is still locked, Chikako. However, Ranma insists that he will be able to unlock it himself sometime in the near future.”

“Good – that will certainly help later on. For the present, his marriage to Midori will simply be filed – quietly. For Ranko, we’ve obtained a reasonable supply of Instant Nannichuan which will allow Midori to become her twin brother Minoru as required. Unfortunately, it’s already known that Magical Springs Products have no effect on a Chiisuiton-locked curse.”

“MAGICAL?!?” Suzu exclaimed, blanching slightly when everyone turned to stare. “Excuse me, but … ‘Instant man drown spring?’ ‘Stopping water bucket?’ ‘MAGICAL SPRINGS PRODUCTS?’ Could someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

Chikako blinked in surprise. “Oh my. You haven’t told her about Ranma’s curse yet, have you, Aiko?”

“CURSE?” Suzu was really lost now.

“Evidently not,” Chikako said with a shake of her head. “I’m beginning to wonder if anyone around here bothers to tell anyone about anything at all. Aiko, let me guess – you probably haven’t realized that your daughter has been handling removal contracts for the Directorate as an independent since she left the clan, correct?”

“No, I hadn’t,” Aiko replied, turning to glare at her daughter. “The trust I set up should still be large enough to support her even now, and she had long since made her opinion known about the family’s ryū.”

Suzu’s face turned white.

“Mother,” Nodoka said, ignoring Aiko’s stare. “Between Genma’s spendthrift habits and the way the economy was booming at the time, the trust had run almost completely dry by, umm, nineteen eighty seven, I think it was. If I hadn’t started accepting the occasional assignment there was a very good chance I would have ended up on the streets.”

“What happened to all of the regular deposits which were made to that account over the last sixteen years?”

“WHAT regular deposits?”

Aiko eyebrows shot up before her expression darkened considerably. “I see. There seems to be a need for a small conversation with a certain investment banker I thought I could trust.”

Chikako rubbed her forehead. “Lovely. I trust we will not be called upon to clean up the remains of this mess as well.”

Aiko nodded sharply. “Don’t worry. This is something I will handle personally. There will be no mess left behind.”

“Good.”

Suzu blinked. “You’re not …”

Chikako simply looked back at Suzu.

“Oh,” Suzu said nervously. She quickly tried to change the subject. “What about all that ‘curse’ talk earlier?”

Both Aiko and Nodoka laughed briefly. “Ah, yes,” Aiko replied. “Magic and curses – definitely a much more comfortable subject to discuss.”

The Yamada matriarch turned to directly face her daughter-in-law. “Suzu,” Aiko began, “the red-headed girl ‘Ranko’ you saw with us earlier this evening is in fact the female form of Nodoka’s son Ranma. He suffers under a curse which turns him into a girl – that red-headed girl – every time he’s splashed with cold water. Splashing him with hot water would normally turn him back into a boy. However, he recently got into an argument with a prince from a small Chinese village and was locked in his female form by an artifact the prince carried with him. The two of them fought over a different artifact which would have unlocked his curse. You might have heard about it recently – the last fight between Ranma-kun and Prince Herb took place down in Ehime, and the two of them destroyed an entire mountainside as a result.”

“You’re kidding,” Suzu replied. She looked back and forth at each of the other women several times. “You’re kidding, right? Magic doesn’t exist for real. It can’t. I mean, if it …” Suzu faltered when she saw the expression on the other women’s faces. “You … really aren’t kidding, are you?”

“No, we’re not, Suzu,” Aiko replied gently. “Chikako, since you went through the effort to obtain Instant Nannichuan, perhaps Suzu could assist Midori in preparing for the wedding tonight? That way she could see it in action for herself.” A wry smile tugged at the edges of Aiko’s lips. “She will have to promise not to faint, however.”

Chikako laughed. “An excellent suggestion. And I’m sure Ranma would prefer having the two of you there to help him fit the uchikake instead of having to deal with any of the Palace staff. Speaking of which,” Chikako said, “How did he take the news that he now has a legal identity for his female ‘Ranko’ form in addition to his normal male form?”

“I’m afraid that didn’t come up in time to be discussed,” Aiko replied.

Chikako glared at the Yamada matriarch. “And exactly what occurred to prevent him from learning this fairly critical piece of information?” she said in a frigid voice.

“That would be mostly my fault, Chikako,” Nodoka interjected. “Ranko and I spent practically the entire ride from Yamada-ke getting to know each other once again. When we arrived here at the Palace there was barely enough time to fix her makeup and change her into her kimono for the Tea.”

Chikako stared at Nodoka for a few seconds before sighing. “I see. Nodoka, I will admit I had difficulty believing some of the reports on your son which detailed the amount of sheer chaos surrounding his daily life. It appears that those reports were, if anything, somewhat understated.”


Nerima

Genma was pissed. A thorough search of the house had failed to turn up even a single scrap of negotiables and the cash he found had totaled barely thirty thousand yen. There were no stocks, no bonds, no bank book, no safe deposit box numbers – there weren’t even any mortgage payment records, and the title to the house couldn’t be found anywhere. Where the hell did she keep them, anyway?

What was worse – there was no sign of the Saotome registry anywhere.

Genma growled to himself while he raided the pantry for something to eat. Where were all the wonderful dishes he married her for? Sure, there were enough provisions around, but where was all the food? There wasn’t a scrap of her wonderful sukiyaki in the fridge, no korokke, no shogayaki, no curry, no nothing. Damn woman didn’t even have any sake!

The portly martial artist pulled out what little food he could find – a small bowl of nukazuke and two pieces of chicken tatsuta – and sat down at the main table. He glowered at the meager offering for a moment before shrugging – food was food, after all, and there was no greater sin than allowing it to go to waste.


Imperial Palace

Ranma glared balefully at the latest bane of her existence. The shiromuku uchikake laid out on the sofa was gorgeous, and its delicate and intricate white-on-white silk brocade made it appear to have come right out of a Heian era court, but the fact that SHE was expected to wear it … for HER wedding … now … was just a little difficult to take.

It had certainly been the LAST thing she expected to happen today. Unfortunately, it appeared as if she might be the only one who had been surprised by it. Midori didn’t appear to have been caught off guard, and there was a good chance none of the other girls had been either. And she was almost certain Grandma also knew about this well before it happened – she seemed to know everything else about what was happening around here today.

She was also certain that, between the two of them, Midori would much rather be the one to be wearing the uchikake tonight. Ranma would have definitely preferred to be wearing neither, but as usual she had not been consulted before the decision had been made.

Can you now see the value of training your mind with the same intensity you have previously reserved for your Martial Arts?

Ranma sighed. “Yes, I can … now. Although, I wonder how much difference it really would have made – it’s not as if I can just say ‘no’ to the Emperor after all. But still … damn it all, Eiko, I’m not READY to get married for the rest of my life. The ceremony itself isn’t the problem, it’s all the things that are supposed to follow afterwards I’m not sure about. Hell, neither of us are even out of high school yet. What in Kami-sama’s name do I know about being a husband to anyone, let alone to a girl I barely even know? Damn it, I was finally starting to get somewhere with Akane … it just isn’t fair.

Ranma, ‘fair’ is subjective and will vary significantly depending on the viewpoint taken. While I can understand how this could be upsetting to you considering your lack of previous experience, I do think you are attributing entirely too much importance to what is, after all, a relatively insignificant event.

“INSIGNIFICANT?!?” Ranma shrieked. “Damn it, Eiko …” She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. “How the heck can you possibly call this ‘insignificant’? We’re talking about me being married for the rest of my life here.

A typical example of muddy thinking, Ranma. Unless Midori turns out to be your chosen lifemate, this will not be the last nor the only time you will marry. You now have a lifespan which can potentially last for hundreds or even thousands of years. Even you will have to admit that a span of some fifty or sixty years is relatively insignificant in comparison.

But …” Ranma froze while the implications of Eiko’s last statement made themselves known. “Damn it, that makes it even worse. How can I possibly marry ANYONE if I stay young forever while they grow old and grey? That isn’t fair to either of us.

That has been allowed for. You do not stop aging until after you have reached your adult physical maturity. Since this varies widely amongst individuals, a certain amount of discretion is provided which allows a Guardian to choose which age she wishes to halt her aging symptoms. For humans this translates to anytime within a full decade past their 18th year. You can also learn a minor glamour which allows you to appear to age at a normal rate. This glamour doesn’t affect your actual age, just the outward appearance.

Okay, so I won’t look like a freak if I stay married to someone,” Ranma growled. “However, that still doesn’t mean I won’t be constantly outliving my own family. It would almost be better if I didn’t get married in the first place.

I would strongly advise against that, Ranma. Sailor Pluto tried to avoid all relationships during her tenure. The main effect that had was to totally suppress the very thing which most defined her humanity – her emotions. Our original designers evidently believed it was not conducive to long term health for a Guardian to remain alone during their tour of duty. Otherwise the provision for a lifemate would not have been designed into the core Guardian magic.

“Ranma-kun?”

Ranma hadn’t noticed the door to the dressing room had opened. She was pleased to see that it was only her mother and grandmother who had entered. She didn’t think she could handle either Jun or Naomi right at the moment, let alone some random palace staffer who thought she was a girl for real.  The last thing she needed was to be gushed over like some stupid giddy bride.

Later, Eiko.

“Grandma, Mom,” she greeted them with a wry smile. “So you’re here to help with the circus?”

“Ranma-kun, a wedding is always a circus,” Aiko replied with a smile and a soft shake of her head. “At least, the good ones are.”

Ranma tried her best to glower at her grandmother. “Great – so you did know what was going to happen here tonight.”

“Dear, now is not the time for arguments,” Nodoka admonished gently. “Weddings are supposed to represent a time of new beginnings.”

Ranma didn’t get a chance to answer before she was glomped by her mother again.

“You are going to make such a beautiful bride tonight,” Nodoka gushed.

“MOM!!!”


Mugonno chuckled to himself in the corner of the room. The interactions between the various Yamada families were quite … amusing. And that was with only the core families here tonight; it didn’t include the entire extended clan with all of the various Yamada, Kurayami, and Shimakage families and relations. Still, it was quite entertaining even with only this small group.

It was also quite evident that Tomoko’s support in the inner families was tenuous at best. Even two of her younger children had pointedly walked over and sat down with Yamada-dono’s three girls, and her oldest boy Taro had been firmly rebuffed by the young redhead when he had been sent over to “retrieve” the two “rebellious” children. It was almost comical to watch the Taro boy back down from a mere slip of a girl who massed barely half his weight, but it really didn’t surprise him – he had been quite impressed with Harukichi’s abilities earlier in the day.

Mugonno noticed the two Yamada men walk over to an opposite corner together for what was obviously intended to be a private conference. He’d better “drift” in that direction and see what he could pick up directly – the room’s various pin mikes were entirely too prone to being swamped out by background noise.


“Jiro.”

“Ichiro.”

“Jiji,” Ichiro Yamada started out heatedly, “don’t you realize what’s going on here tonight?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know, Ani?” Jiro replied defensively to his older brother. “I was in the middle of a very important meeting when the limo pulled up to the office. The next thing I know I’ve been whisked off to the Palace.”

Ichiro gave his brother’s outfit a fast once-over. Jiro’s conservative pinstripe business suit and tie, while normally not something that called attention to itself except by the expense of the fabric, stood out like a sore thumb when surround by the formal kimonos most of the extended family had worn – including himself. He nodded. “Okay, that’s at least a reasonable excuse and one Tennō Heika-sama probably made an allowance for. That still does not excuse Tomoko and your kids showing up here in Western dress.”

Jiro sighed and looked over to his wife. “C’mon, Ani, you know how Toko is.”

“Yes, I do,” Ichiro replied. “And that’s why I still don’t understand what you ever saw in her.”

“I should think that was fairly obvious,” Jiro replied with a smile. “Just look at her – she’s magnificent.”

Ichiro followed his younger brother’s gaze over to the statuesque brunette, who was currently attempting to hold a conversation with the tall American officer. He had to admit, she was extremely beautiful, and her current outfit – a classic sleeveless black evening gown designed by Hanae Mori herself –emphasized every single curve for maximum effect. Her hair was impeccably coiffed, her makeup, her accessories, every detail blended into a seamless perfection most women only dreamed of. Too bad the surface was all that was really there. The Americans had a perfect word for what Tomoko really was inside. Golddigger.

“She’s gorgeous, I’ll grant you that, Jiji,” Ichiro said. “But so is a snake, and if you’re not careful she’s going to end up costing you far more than you ever bargained for. Even she isn’t blind enough to have misread that invitation, and I seriously doubt you want to be on the wrong side of the Throne at the moment.”

“No, but surely it hasn’t gotten to that point yet …”

“Damn it, Jiji, pay attention and stop thinking with your chin-chin,” Ichiro interrupted, eyes flashing. “Thanks to your precious Toko’s little stunt here today, you are probably just a short step away from losing the Kyoto Metro contract, and you know damn well without that your chances of landing the Tokyo Metro deal are slim to none. Yamada Denki is now … what … third nationally in overall consumer and electronic sales? What will it do to your bottom line if Denki suddenly drops off the government’s preferred vendor list?”

Jiro blanched. “Do you really think they’d go that far, Ani?”

“You better count on it, otōto,” Ichiro replied. “I don’t know what sort of game the Throne is playing at the moment, but it’s obvious they’ve thrown their support directly and firmly behind Okāsan. The fact that they normally avoid doing so like the plague should be clue enough.”

Jiro nodded grudgingly.

“Jiji, I know you and Okāsan don’t normally get along,” Ichiro said, “but you are going to have to start paying more attention to your family’s status inside the clan. Whoever this ‘Ranko’ girl eventually turns out to be, the one thing you can be sure of is that she’s following Okāsan’s path to a ‘T’. If you don’t hurry up and get in line, you and your kids will be left in the dust.”

“Toko isn’t going to like this,” Jito said with a sigh.

“When it comes right down to it, neither will Su-chan,” Ichiro said, “but she isn’t going to try fighting the Throne on this point, either.” He stopped for a moment and then looked his brother straight in the eyes. “Jiji, I’m only going to tell you this once. Put a leash on your wife, and put it on good … or someone else is liable to take care of it for you.”

Ichiro Yamada spun around and walked away from his brother without waiting for a response.


Mugonno smiled to himself as he watched the two executives return to their respective families. It looked like this was one problem he wouldn’t have to handle after all.


Nerima

“That’s everything, Sir,” Sergeant Nakagawa said, closing the trunk of the patrol car with authority. They had collected quite a few boxes of contraband – a lot of it illegal pornographic pictures of the deceased Tendō girl. Poor kid. The stocky sergeant really hated it when innocents got caught in yak crossfire like this.

“Very good, Sergeant,” Lieutenant Hiyashi replied. “Please go and fetch Officer Kosugi. I want him to drive; you’ll be in charge of the other vehicle.”

“Yes, Sir!” The stocky sergeant turned and began walking back towards Tendō-ke.

Lieutenant Hiyashi was quite pleased with tonight’s operation. Nabiki Tendō had turned out to be a real prize baby yakuza if the evidence they had collected was any clue. She’d specialized in pornography and blackmail, and a lot of local families could sleep easier now that their children were no longer under her control. He’d have to make sure that the evidence was properly sealed and secured – it would do none of the families any good if those pictures ever came to light and such a mistake could easily result in several unnecessary honor deaths.

She had also engaged in a lively little trade of stolen antiques and other valuables, if the collection they had found hidden in the downstairs room was any indication, and had acquired a surprising large supply of buru-sera items as well. The financial trail for this part of her endeavors could prove to be quite … illuminating.

He patted his pocket and smirked, feeling the lumpy presence of the film rolls in his pocket. Having the little bitch star in her very own photo shoot was poetic justice at its best. He’d have to see if several of the juicier shots couldn’t quietly make their way back into the neighborhood somehow. That would ruin whatever ties she had with the local Honda-kai and go a small way towards balancing the books for her deceased cousin’s lost honor. Of course, he was certainly going to keep a full set of prints himself. However frozen the Tendō girl’s soul might be, he certainly couldn’t quarrel with the fact that, as far as looks went, she was a major babe.

The same could be said for her muscle, too. Nabiki’s younger sister was cute – really cute – and had plenty of curves to back that up. Those feminine curves also effectively hid the girl’s monstrous strength. Hiyashi had briefly seen some of the surveillance clips of the little thug in action – she could snap a man’s spine in two with little effort. He was glad he could count on Sergeant Nakagawa’s hobbies to fill in the gaps in their equipment list and didn’t have to rely on just standard issue equipment. Having access to some recent upgrades in their tools didn’t hurt, either. No matter how strong the freakishly powerful “schoolgirl” was, she evidently wasn’t immune to the high-powered stun wands which had recently been made standard equipment for the OCU. It was about time, too – the previous model had been shown to be totally inadequate when the Yagami and Kuroda clans fought for possession of the Akashi Bridge down at the docks last year.

And nabbing the father was certainly a nice added bonus. While they had received strict instructions to keep the eldest girl completely out of the operation, she could rot in hell as far as Hiyashi was concerned. She and her father were the adults of the house and they had let this travesty go on far too long without making even a single attempt to correct the situation. Her cousin had been made a virtual slave for the other two girls to abuse at their leisure and the two adults had simply turned a blind eye to the whole affair. It was an utter disgrace.

Hiyashi smirked at a sudden thought. Neither girl had shown any resistance to Nakagawa’s hojojutsu techniques, and the older girl’s pain tolerance was minimal at best. It would be interesting to see how they coped with one of Kosugi’s high pressure decontamination cleanings, let alone what that would do for the visual treat factor. That would at least give Kosugi something to make up for his being stuck with babysitting duty earlier.


Imperial Palace

“I feel like some stupid make-up doll dressed this way,” Ranma grumbled. She relaxed when her mother gave her a hug – a large portion of her tension draining away in the sea of her mother’s euphoria.

“You look absolutely radiant, dear,” Nodoka said with a huge smile.

“No-chan, you aren’t helping things right at the moment,” Aiko admonished.

“That’s all right, Grandma – I’ll admit I do look good,” Ranma said. “It’s just … I’ve still got … I mean … Damn it, Mom, how could you even THINK of doing something like that?”

“It was the only thing I could do at the time, dear,” Nodoka said. “Your death made it impossible for anyone to restore the Saotomes’ honor.”

“But I’m not dead, Mom.”

“I didn’t find that out until earlier today, dear.”

Ranma sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She turned to face her grandmother. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t just go back to the ward office and have them put it back the way it was, Grandma. And why did you have to go and give my girl side her own identity? I’m not two separate people, you know.”

“I was instructed to do that for Ranko, son,” Aiko replied. “And as for correcting the mistake with your original name, I didn’t find out what No-chan had done until this morning as well. Besides, the ward office would demand undeniable proof that you are still alive before they would even start the process of restoring the Saotome registry.”

“All you have to do is have me come with you,” Ranma said. “I mean, how much more proof do you need?”

“You aren’t exactly male at the moment, Ranma,” Aiko said softly.

“But everyone knows I’m a guy,” Ranma exclaimed.

“That isn’t proof, son,” Aiko said. “Trust me on this – the ward office would only accept you as proof if you are male at the time. And relatively few people in the whole city know about your curse.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ranma chuckled nervously. “That might be a problem, all right.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Nodoka asked.

Ranma grimaced. “No, but that really doesn’t count for much at the moment.” She pulled up the front part of the uchikake and started towards the door. “Let’s get this farce over with.”


“So, where do we go from here?” Ranma asked the aide who was standing just outside the door.

“Your fiancé is waiting for you in the hallway to your left, Yamada-san. Please follow me.”

Ranma gingerly followed the aide down the main corridor, trying her best not to swear. The uchikake severely constricted her movement and swathed her in enough layers to make it difficult for her to feel her balance properly. Admittedly, the formal kimono she had taken off had a few more layers of cloth – ten nagajuban instead of only three – but at least that kimono fit. The uchikake kimono was deliberately designed to be overlength with extra padding all around the bottom, and it was taking quite a bit of concentration not to constantly trip over the front of the hem. As a result, Ranma was forced to walk head down with short mincing steps – which inadvertently projected the perfect image of a demure Japanese bride.

It also meant that she didn’t look up from the floor until the aide had stopped in front of her. What she saw a few feet away forced an almost automatic response out of the irritated redhead.

“Okay, who the hell are you?”

“Yamada-san!” the aide exclaimed. “Don’t you recognize your fiancé?”

“Ranma-kun, that’s Midori-kun,” Aiko said softly in Ranma’s ear.

Ranma gave the tall man in the white wedding hakama and black kimono a cursory once-over before shaking her head. “Can’t be – that’s a real …” Her eyes flew wide open as the import of her grandmother’s honorific hit home. She concentrated on the man in front of her and her mood darkened considerably as more details were made apparent.

The young man was taller and a little thinner than her own male form and the twenty centimeter difference between their current heights meant that he literally towered over her. His eyes were brilliant amber instead of Midori’s warm brown, but his hair was the same color, style, and length as hers had been. He even had the same bangs and hair ribbon – although the ribbon had been retied to a simple knot and streamer instead of the oversized bow Midori had been wearing. The hands and fingers were long, there was a distinct hint of wiry strength in his arms, and his face was firmly in the bishōnen category. He had a look on his face that was both bemused and apologetic, and he also appeared to be slightly off balance.

Ranma looked his “fiancé” right in the eyes and uttered a single uninflected word. “Nanniichuan?”

The tall male teenager – and he was definitely male, no mistake about that – nodded. His voice was a melodious tenor. “Yes, but it’s …” Midori-kun’s comment halted abruptly when an intense dark red aura suddenly erupted around the petite kimono-clad redhead.

“I’ll kill him,” Ranma growled, her aura visibly darkening even further. “I don’t care if he’s Kami-sama himself …”

“Ranma?” Aiko called out, her concern obvious.

“… I distinctly told him no one else was going to get cursed because of …”

“RANMA!” Midori yelled right in her face.

The glowering redhead looked up, eyes flaming. “How could you let him DO that to you, Midori?”

Midori tried not to flinch at the intensity of Ranma’s outrage. “Ranma, this isn’t permanent. We used the instant Nanniichuan powder which only works once.”

“Oh.” Ranma’s fiery aura slowly collapsed and dissipated. “Are you sure?”

Midori nodded vigorously.

Ranma took a deep breath. “Great. Just great.” She shook her head. “Whatever happened to the ‘don’t need a curse to look like a guy’ bit?”

Midori grimaced. “I was going to do that, Ranma, but when Tennō Heika-sama offered me the instant Nannichuan I thought it was only fair I experience a little of what you’ve been putting up with. Besides, it did save a LOT of effort – and while I have passed myself off as a male before in public, I’ll also admit it was before I had filled out as much as I am now.”

Ranma nodded curtly. “Yeah, I don’t know how Ucchan stands doing that everyday. Just wearing a bra in girl form is bad enough.”

“Binding your breasts like that really hurts, let me tell you,” Midori said with feeling.

“I bet,” Ranma replied. “Okay, I guess I can live with it. This isn’t any more screwed up than a lot of other situations I’ve had to suffer through.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just don’t start getting any ideas, Midori. I can handle it as long as it’s all for show.”

“Believe me, Ranma, I intend to change back as soon as I possibly can,” Midori said. “I honestly don’t see how you’ve managed to cope with the constant changes in form. Everything is just wrong. My balance is totally off – I’ve already fallen over four times and walked into the door jamb twice. My hands and feet feel enormous, my torso feels like it’s made out of bricks, and the change in height is entirely too weird. Not to mention I found out first hand why you always wore boxers.”

Ranma chuckled. “Yes, you’ll only make that mistake once.”

“No kidding,” Midori replied.

“Well, let’s go get this over with,” Ranma said. “Just … don’t walk very fast, okay? Whoever designed this damn outfit should be shot.”

Midori laughed. “I was about to ask the same thing, Ranma. The way my balance is screwed up at the moment, I’m likely to fall flat on my face if I move faster than a slow crawl.”


Juuban

“Princess, this isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” Usagi said to the miniature image in front of her. “We have to find out if she’ll help us, and the only way that’s going to happen is if she can trust us.”

“Having your Protectors present in their powered state is a reasonable precaution.”

“No,” Usagi replied firmly. “If we’re all there in a group as senshi it will only threaten her, and this is too important to risk. I will see her alone.”

“Princess, I …”

“Crystal, it has to be done this way or it won’t work at all,” Usagi said. “I can just feel it. Now, make the call.”

“Princess …”

“NOW.”

Crystal sighed to herself. The Princess’ heart and compassion were almost without limit, but it appeared as if her stubbornness was now expanding to match. She opened the communications channel and waited for an acknowledgement.

[Crystal]

[Gate, the Princess desires to meet with Guardian Khronos in person. Is she available for such a meeting?]

[My Guardian is currently occupied with other more pressing affairs. I will inform her of your request at the next opportunity and return her answer as soon as it is made available.] Eiko disconnected the communications link without warning.


Imperial Palace

Ranma was grateful the actual wedding ceremony was turning out to be as brief as the Emperor had mentioned. Unfortunately, this did not make it any less embarrassing for her, especially considering the number of family members present who were total strangers.

At least none of her classmates or rivals had been invited. She’d hate to think of the chaos and outright destruction Kodachi or Kuno-baka would cause – let alone someone like Ryōga or Shampoo.

Still, the oaths “she” had just recited with Midori-kun weren’t sitting well with her at all, and Eiko’s proclamation that this was an “insignificant” event in her life wasn’t something she readily agreed with – even though she could understand, intellectually, the point he had tried to make. She suspected she might agree with him more easily in a few hundred years – assuming she actually did end up living that long.

Ranma looked down at the table in front of her and suppressed a grimace on seeing the cup and the pair of rings on prominent display. Because the Yamada were like the Amazons in being led by the women of the clan, and because … technically … it was “Ranko Yamada” who was the family member and “Minoru Nakamura” who was “marrying in” to the Yamada clan, it became her responsibility to initiate the traditional pouring of the sake to begin the san-san-kudo, as well as the subsequent exchange of wedding bands. This was in spite of the fact that Midori had actually been a part of the Yamada clan a LOT longer than she ever had. The irony was not lost to the redheaded “girl.”

Taking a deep breath, Ranma plastered her best “Ranko’s Auntie Saotome smile” over her face and reached out to pick up the sake pitcher.


Mount Horai, Ehime

If Ku Lon hadn’t known better, she’d have thought the Goddess had suddenly developed a sense of humor. The elder could certainly see the potential for it … even though these types of events were something normally reserved for her great granddaughter’s missing groom. It was almost as if the chaos surrounding Ranma was suddenly seeking a new target.

Ku Lon blinked. That certainly would tend to explain what had been happening around the three Nyuchezuu this last week.

Of course, the elder certainly wasn’t above spreading a bit of chaos around by herself – Xian’s reaction to her John Wayne imitation on their trip up had been priceless. The poor girl really needed to lighten up a bit every now and then – she had taken this entire situation far too seriously and it had significantly impaired her judgment on more than one occasion. She would have been much more successful in captivating the son-in-law had she simply used a much lighter touch over the course of the last year.

Hindsight was, of course, highly accurate. And frustrating to no end – something the younger warriors often had a hard time accepting.

Well, in spite of the dust, the profuse number of annoying free range monkeys, and some infuriatingly incompetent local villagers, it was nice to get away from the horribly hyper-crowded conditions which comprised the bulk of the vast expanse of Edo. Considering the sheer amount of destruction they had found at this location, it would easily take them the better part of a week to finish with their detailed search. It was shaping up to be a right nice little vacation.

And the three Nyuchezuu were certainly faring better than the thief back at the Nekohanten was at the moment. Ku Lon pulled out a small brooch and checked the signal stone once again. She nodded in satisfaction – whoever had disturbed the wards surrounding her cache hadn’t lasted very long.

This was a Good Thing. She always hated having to dispose of the bodies without drawing the attention of the local authorities. Dealing with that was always so much easier back in the Village.


Imperial Palace

“Are you alright, Ranma?” Midori whispered to his partner.

“Everything’s just peachy, Midori,” Ranma whispered back. “Thank the kami that was the last time I had to change outfits tonight. I mean, I know it’s tradition and all that, but the whole thing was getting to be pretty ridiculous.”

“I don’t know, Ranma,” Midori replied, admiring the gorgeous red-and-gold yāgasane iro-uchikake the petite redhead was currently sporting. “You’ve looked positively stunning in every outfit you’ve worn tonight.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to, Midori,” Ranma growled. “Damn curse.”

“Ranma …”

“Yeah yeah I know,” she hurriedly responded. “Sorry. I know this can’t be easy on you, either. So, what are we supposed to do next?”

Midori gave Ranma a worried look before continuing. “All we have left to do is to hand out the hikidemono to everyone before they leave.”

Ranma snorted. “Great. Now we’re department store greeters.”

A soft laugh from the side caught the two youngster’s attention. “That’s certainly an interesting way of looking at it, Ranko-chan,” Empress Chikako said. “And one which is not totally inaccurate.” The Empress gave them both a sunny smile before dropping her voice considerably. “You two have been performing marvelously while laboring under extremely trying conditions. I have been quite impressed with both of you tonight.”

“Errrr, thanks?”

“Thank you, Heika-sama,” Midori replied with a little more aplomb.

“One of the staff will assist you with the hikidemono,” Chikako said with a nod. “We’ll give you a list of what was selected for each person afterwards so you won’t be caught unaware later on. Also, my husband and I would like to speak with you and your immediate family when this is finally over with. We have something for the two of you we think you will quite enjoy.” The Empress gave the couple another acknowledgement before drifting away.

Ranma sighed. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.


“Well, that certainly was an interesting evening,” Ichiro Yamada said, cocking an eyebrow at his wife. She had been noticeably upset during the entire evening after her conversation with the Empress, and the limo ride back home was the perfect time to find out what was bothering her.

“Interesting doesn’t cover it by half, dear,” Suzu replied. She rubbed her forehead with the palms of her hands for a few seconds before turning troubled eyes to her husband. “I always knew what Art your family had practiced, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever figure that our own children would end up being trained as actual shinobi.”

“I doubt it will come to that, kimi,” Ichiro said. “I don’t think Okāsan has done anything along those lines for decades. At the worse the kids will get some much needed exercise and have a chance to know their cousins a bit better.”

“I have reasons to be concerned, anata,” Suzu commented softly.

“Mom?”

Suzu turned to face her daughter. “Yes, Mariko-chan?”

“Did you see Midori-chan after the tea service? I wanted to ask her why she never said anything about having a brother, especially such a gorgeous one as that.”

“I … don’t think I saw her myself, Mariko-chan,” Suzu replied. “I’m almost sure you’ll catch up with her over at Grandmother’s before school starts again, though.”

“Good,” Mariko said with a grin. “She’s going to get no end of grief for keeping such a hunk like that secret – even if he did end up getting married before we had a chance at him.”

“Daughter, you have no idea …” Suzu whispered to herself. She evidently didn’t say it softly enough because her husband immediately gave her “that look.” She grimaced before scooting over to snuggle up against Ichiro and sighed happily when his arms encircled her.

“I take it there was something else going on tonight?” Ichiro whispered in her ear after planting several soft kisses up and down her neck.

“I’ll tell you after the kids have gone to bed,” Suzu whispered back. “But I doubt you’ll believe me.”

“Kimi, for you I’ll believe anything,” Ichiro whispered in-between kisses.

“Anata, I saw it with my own eyes and I can barely believe it myself,” Suzu replied softly. She moaned quietly when her husband located one of her more sensitive spots on the side of her neck.

Ichiro chuckled. “Now you’ve got me curious.” He started working his way around the back of her neck, planting feather-light kisses in just the right locations. “And you know what they say about curiosity …”

“Ewwww! Mom … Dad … get a room!” This proclamation was made in stereo by their two youngest boys.

“Pay attention, Saburo-kun, you might actually learn something.”

Ichiro and Suzu immediately broke their embrace and stared at their sixteen year old daughter. Mariko blushed bright red, which only made her situation worse.

“Kimi, I think it’s past time we had a little chat with our daughter, don’t you?”

“I certainly agree, anata.”

“Huh? What’d I miss?” Daichi asked sleepily from the rear of the limousine.


Ranma sighed in relief. She had finally been able to change back into something comfortable after standing for hours in a entire wardrobe of restrictive and weighty outfits, and the difference was amazing – she felt as if she’d just lost ten pounds.

Now, to find out what other “surprise” was in store for her.

Ranma, a once-again-female Midori, Kioko, Tsuya, Harukichi, Aiko, Nodoka, and the Imperial couple were gathered around a medium-sized round table in one of the many informal meeting rooms located about the Palace. Evidently the Empress really liked flowers – vase after vase of red and white roses filled the room with their fragrance.

“We wanted to thank Clan Yamada for accepting our invitation today,” Emperor Hitomaro began, directing his statements towards Ranma and Midori in particular. “We look forward to maintaining a relationship which has been mutually beneficial to both of our houses.”

“On behalf of Clan Yamada we thank you,” Aiko replied before it became obvious Ranma was unaware she was supposed to be the one to respond.

“While this is somewhat irregular, we wanted to present the two of you with our oshugi in person before you left,” Empress Chikako said in turn. An aide stepped over and laid a thick folder in front of the newly-married couple. “Given the demands recent events have placed upon the two of you, we thought it only proper your honeymoon be something which would allow both of you to relax and recuperate. Please accept this with our gratitude.”

Ranma gave the Empress an inquisitive look. After receiving an acknowledging nod she opened the folder. Inside were what appeared to be … passports, travel brochures, and …

“… plane tickets to San Francisco?”

“Yes,” Empress Chikako said with a nod. “One of the Presidential suites has been reserved in your name at the Ritz-Carlton for the next three weeks. Your flight leaves tomorrow a little before six pm and arrives around eleven in the morning. We realize you have had almost no time at all to simply sit back and relax, so there’s no itinerary planned. You can lounge about, play tourist, take walks in the surrounding countryside, practice at a local dojo, or do anything that appeals to you. You may book a return flight whenever it suits you.”

“Thank you, Heika-sama,” Midori replied. Ranma was still staring at the papers in front of her.

“Now, if you will excuse us, it has been a rather long and tiring day,” Emperor Hitomaro said. Both he and his wife stood. “The staff will direct you to your vehicles when you are ready to depart.”


Suginami

… block … strike … sweep … pivot … lean … snapkick, pivot, backfist, leap, cartwheel, land, counterblock …

The only sound which had emanated from the dōjō over the last half hour was the subtle rustle of cloth in motion.

… forty-count chestnut fist, double palm strike … fast advance … leap, aerial somersault into axe kick, rebound … land … present.

Ranma stood at ready, replaying the entire sequence back in her mind. She was going to have to re-tie her hair back into a pigtail or maybe use the low neck-hugging braid ‘Kichi liked to use, since there were at least four times it had gotten in the way in the middle of a move.

That sort of lapse could be the difference between victory and defeat – and she no longer had the luxury of treating her fights as a mere contest of personal skills. The ponytail would simply have to go.

Ranma, you have received a request from the leader of the senshi, who wishes to meet with you in person at your convenience.

“*I* received a request? Just when did this happen and how?”

Technically I received the request on your behalf immediately before this evening’s marriage ceremony. Since the content didn’t appear to be time-critical I delayed the relaying of this request until a time where you were less involved in current events.

Ranma paused for a moment. “Okay, fair enough. I really shouldn’t be surprised that you have some sort of mental phone number or something.”

Actually, I do not. Our bonding has given you a limited set of telepathic abilities, and any communication attempt directed specifically at you in these channels can be received and understood. I have erected automated screening and defensive routines around these abilities to prevent you from being attacked or damaged by those of greater ability. However, the senshi’s request did not arrive through your telepathic channel.

“Okaaaaaaay,” Ranma drawled. She sat down in the middle of the dōjō floor. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a lot more to this story?”

Because there is. Ranma, you are not the only Guardian of a powerful Artifact located on this planet. There are two other Artifacts with which I share a common origin and history, each with its own Guardian and unique set of abilities. The leader of the senshi is one such Guardian, and the Artifact she protects is the Crystal of Life. All of the Artifacts are capable of communicating directly with one another, and it was through this channel that I received the earlier request.

“I see. Any idea on what she wants?”

Crystal simply relayed the request for a personal meeting. However, one can easily deduce she wishes to find out where you stand in regard to the senshi’s plans for the future and how that will affect them. Your assuming of the Guardian’s duties did displace one of her subordinates, after all.

“Great,” Ranma growled. “Just what I needed to find out tonight – another set of opponents to deal with.”

Ranma, I would not automatically discount the possibility of a non-hostile relationship with the other two Guardians. Both are relatively recent reincarnations and are actually younger than you in terms of physical years. Given Sailor Pluto’s penchant for extreme information hording, it is quite probable neither of them is aware of the true cost involved in implementing the plans for ‘Crystal Tokyo’.

“Ranma?”

Ranma looked over to the entrance of the dōjō. “Oh, hi Midori.”

“I can come back later if you’re still busy …”

“Naw, I’ve pretty much finished practicing,” Ranma replied. She stood up and started walking towards the entrance. “I was just talking to Eiko for a bit.”

Midori stepped inside the dōjō and slid the door shut behind her. “Ranma,” she said, looking down at the floor. “Can we talk a little about … us?”

Ranma stopped almost instantly, her every sense on sudden alert. She carefully examined the girl in front of her – and grew more puzzled the longer she looked. Midori seemed almost … fearful. It was certainly a far cry from the angry/jealous/whatever possessiveness the other girls always fell into anytime the subject had come up in the past.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied. “Take a seat – I’m still cooling down from my kata.”

Midori nodded silently in agreement, her eyes still firmly downcast. She slowly slid down to the ground, her back against the closed doorway. Ranma stopped a couple of feet away before silently joining her down on the floor.

“Ranma,” Midori began in a soft voice. “I’m really sorry you were put through all of this tonight. Please believe me when I say that no one in the family ever dreamed of having things turn out this way today.”

“Yeah, well, it sure seemed like no one else was really surprised about it, either.”

“That isn’t true, Ranma,” Midori said, shaking her head emphatically. “We were all shocked when the invitation arrived this morning. We just had a few more hours to adjust to the situation than you did before you came back home.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess that makes sense.”

“Ranma, the last thing I ever wanted was to have you forced into another relationship without your consent. Your father did that to you all of your life and it just isn’t fair to have it happen to you all over again.”

Ranma chuckled softly without humor. “Just par for the course.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Midori replied, looking up for the first time since the conversation began. Her eyes were bright with unreleased moisture. “We wanted … I wanted … to give you a home where you were free from those pressures and obligations. To be able to make your own decisions on what you wanted to do and who you wanted to be with. To be put ba… To have to … It just isn’t fair.”

“‘Fair’ doesn’t seem to be playing a very big part in my life at the moment, Midori.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” Midori replied. She took a shaky breath before continuing. “I just wanted you to know that … once the legal situation with the family estate has been taken care of,” Midori quickly cast her eyes back down to the floor, “I will abide by whatever decision you make concerning our so-called ‘marriage’. I’m n...not going to be like the other girls and hold you to something you never truly wanted to agree to.”

Ranma took a long look at her current “husband.” The single tear trailing down the other girl’s cheek was certainly at odds with her previous words. “So what you said earlier about wanting to be married didn’t mean anything, huh?”

“This isn’t about what I want, Ranma,” Midori replied in a voice almost too soft to be heard. A second tear joined the first on its downward journey.

“Sure it isn’t.”

Ranma waited for some sort of response to her last jibe. She waited a little longer. She sighed when she realized she had gotten a response.

“Midori, what you just did was damn near the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me without expecting anything in return. Yeah, I can’t say I’m not a little ticked off at this whole stupid mess, but the Emperor seemed to have a good enough reason why he put us all through that earlier tonight.” She put her hand underneath Midori’s chin and gently tilted the other girl’s head up. “So, before we go about making any major decisions, I need to know how you really feel about being stuck married to a circus side-show freak like me.”

Midori’s eyes and mouth shot wide open in shock for a moment before she exploded into action. A quick and deceptively smooth motion plucked the redhead up off the floor and set the shorter girl down in Midori’s lap. Ranma didn’t have a chance to flinch before she was enveloped in her “husband’s” embrace.

“Oh Ranma, how can you possibly think that about yourself?”

Ranma fought her reflexive stiffening when she felt Midori’s arms surround her. It wasn’t a glomp or a grope … in fact it felt almost the same as what her mother had done earlier in the car. Maybe there was something to all this mushy huggy stuff after all. She allowed herself to relax in Midori’s arms.

“It’s kind of hard not to, Midori. I’m a guy … with a really hot chick’s body … who turns into a magical girl of all things. You can’t be much more of a freak than that.”

“What about Pantyhose Taro?”

“Well, yeah …”

“‘Voodoo’ Gosunkugi with his One-Punch Armor?”

“Err …”

“And then there’s always Happosai …”

“Let’s not even go there.”

Midori giggled. “So you really want to know how I feel about this.”

“Yup,” Ranma nodded. “Midori, I barely even know you right now. Sure, you and the girls have been exceptionally kind to me over the last week, and it feels really nice to have family I never even knew existed before. However, that still doesn’t mean you don’t have someone else who’s really special to you and who’s going to get hurt because you’re being forced into doing this.”

“Well,” Midori said after a brief pause. “I do know someone who I’ve really been really attracted to for a long time now.”

“You see?”

“He’s tall, strong, handsome … oh definitely handsome …”

Ranma nodded. She had thought Midori’s earlier comments were a little too pat.

“… a master-level martial artist, and turns into this stunningly gorgeous redhead when splashed with water.”

Ranma, her eyes two huge luminous orbs, effectively teleported out of Midori’s lap. She didn’t, really, but it would have been difficult to tell the difference.

Midori reached out and clasped Ranma’s left hand in both of her own. She stroked the ring on Ranma’s finger. “I would really like to try and make this work, Ranma, but only if you want to as well. I was quite serious when I said I wasn’t going to hold you to something you never wanted to do.”

“But … I …” Ranma shook her head, trying to clear out some of the cobwebs which had suddenly appeared around her thoughts.

Midori smiled fondly at her “spouse’s” reaction – she was just so damned cute when she was flustered like this. “Ranma, there’s a reason the other girls have always chased you so hard, and it has nothing to do with their family honor or village laws or any stolen dowry – it’s because of who you are. The family spent the last year watching from the sidelines and I hated not being able to be there for you, I absolutely HATED it. You are a very easy person to love, Ranma, and I wanted to die myself when I thought we had lost you on Horai-san. I love you, and would gladly stay married to you no matter what the circumstances are.” Midori’s eyes sparkled. “So, does that adequately explain how I feel being … umm, ‘stuck’ … married to you?”

“But … but …” Ranma had blushed progressively brighter while Midori talked and her face was now a brilliant red. “Doesn’t it bother you that I’m a girl part of the time? What if I don’t learn how to change back, or what if it takes me years to learn how instead of weeks or months?”

“If you could never change back, then I would happily spend the rest of my life married to the woman I love. Your form doesn’t matter to me, Ranma, it never has – I love them both.” Midori chuckled. “Besides, if it does end up as just ‘us girls’, there are a lot of tricks two girls can do together which are quite satisfying.”

“That … that’s perverted!” Ranma exclaimed. “Isn’t it?” she added when she saw the Midori’s reaction.

“I certainly don’t think so, and neither should you,” Midori said firmly. “Besides … even if it is, who cares? It’s nobody else’s business in the first place, and anyone who doesn’t like it can go stuff it up their rear.”

Ranma stared at Midori, eyes and mouth wide with astonishment.

Midori couldn’t resist a sudden impulse and leaned over to plop a quick kiss on Ranma’s nose. The resulting cross-eyed expression was priceless and caused several giggles to bubble up.

Ranma closed her mouth with a snap. Midori was obviously quite serious about the marriage, but was also just as willing to give it up without a fight if Ranma simply said the word. Okay, the day had just officially gone from “strange” to “totally weird.” That didn’t discount the facts sitting in right front of her, however. And, while she really hadn’t been comfortable at the time, she HAD sworn an oath earlier in good faith.

… and she’d be DAMNED if she was going to treat her own family like the Panda had treated her in the past. If she was going to be an effective Guardian, her oaths had better mean something besides empty words.

Finally, Ranma smiled crookedly and quipped: “So you really want to be a part of MY screwed-up life?”

The relief that washed across Midori’s face was palpable. “Yes, Ranma, I do,” she said after a deep breath.

“You realize you’re now even crazier than I am.”

“Uh huh,” Midori said with a nod.

A brief pause.

“Heck of a wedding night.”

“Sure is.”

Another pause.

“Tired?”

“Totally wasted.”

Ranma stood up with a groan. “Same here.”