Chapter 9: Interregnum II
somewhere in Limbo - Sunday, March 6th 1994
“Now, Papa, why have you called me here?” Yasuko broke their mutual embrace to gaze gently at her father. “You know the cravings only get worse each time you visit.”
Happosai sighed. “It’s worth it, you know.”
“Papa …”
“It really is, Su-chan. I can never make up for what I did to you.”
Yasuko’s face assumed an angry scowl. “Papa, you stop that right this instant. How many times have I told you – it is not your fault!”
Happosai’s face fell. “If I had never shown you that …”
“STOP IT, Papa,” Yasuko interrupted, stomping her foot for emphasis. “You had no idea I was watching and there was no way you could have known what would happen afterward.”
“I should have sensed your presence …”
“Papa, PLEASE?”
Happosai’s face fell even further.
Yasuko pouted. “*Really*, Papa, you have to stop blaming yourself some day. Our son may not have grown up to our expectations, but without your sacrifices I would never have known the joys of motherhood.” The younger Saotome sighed. “Those five years were more precious to me than you could possibly imagine, Papa, so I don’t want to hear you berating yourself any more, understand?”
The hint of a bemused grin appeared on Happosai’s face. “I never could deny you anything, Su-chan.”
Yasuko briefly hugged her father once more. “I know. So why don’t you tell me what happened that was so important you would risk starting up the cravings again.”
Happosai sagged as he turned troubled eyes to his daughter. “Su-chan, I need to know if you’ve seen our grandson recently.”
“Ranma-kun?” Yasuko frowned when Happosai nodded. “I don’t think so, Papa, but there is someone I can ask who would certainly know.” The young woman took a step back from her father and dissolved in a swirl of white mist.
Mount Horai, Ehime Prefecture
Xian Pu began digging out the next pile of rubble with a vigor fueled by immense frustration. “Next pile” – what a laugh. There was nothing but piles of rubble far as far as the eye could see. Her husband had literally leveled almost the entire mountain while battling that bastard of a Musk, and each section had to be carefully searched for any clue of his survival.
He had to have survived, he just had to. The young Nyuchezuu warrior would simply not acknowledge that any other outcome was even possible, in spite of the mounting evidence to the contrary.
She tried not to scowl in jealousy when another small explosion assaulted her hearing. Her great-grandmother had never taught her the breaking point technique, saying she “wasn’t ready yet” for the advanced teachings. She didn’t agree – after all Pig-boy had been able to learn it, so it couldn’t be that hard to learn, right? How in Goddess’ name was she supposed to take her rightful position amongst the Council if her great-grandmother hoarded all of the advanced training knowledge and continued to treat her like a male? If she never heard that taunt again in her entire life, it would still be too soon.
She slammed her bonbori into the ground with even more force than before. There were still too many piles to be sifted through before the evening was over.
Suginami
Ranma barely had a chance to sit down in the back of the limousine before she was engulfed by her mother’s embrace once more. She stiffened briefly before she could suppress her reactions and snake her arms around her mother’s waist in response. Neither of them noticed when the limousine door closed or felt the vehicle when it pulled out from the courtyard.
A bump in the road forced the redheaded girl to shift in her seat for a second before she settled back into her mother’s arms. There was … something … that just felt so right being here with her mother now – it was so different from any of the girls’ glomps and was something she could definitely get used to.
Now that she thought about it, it really was different – Ranma was actually able to relax a bit. The tension that had always hung over her head when she was “Ranko Tendō” was completely absent, and she felt … safe?
Ranma had never felt safe before. At least not from what she could remember of her life. Why had she waited so long to do this, if this was how it was supposed to feel?
All of the times she had hidden from her mother behind the curse came crashing back to her at once in response. The lies, the deceit … even when she had really tried, only to be stopped by an accidental splash or sudden shower or Pops or that damn katana coming out at just the wrong moment. The forlorn and disappointed look in her mother’s eyes when she was told her family was out “training” once more. The shopping trips with “Mrs. Saotome” when her mother had tried so hard to turn her into a “little lady”. The intense longing clearly evident when her mother talked about how manly “her Ranma” must be by now. All those incidents flashed through her mind with crystal clarity. On top of everything else that had happened recently, it was altogether too much to handle – Ranma couldn’t halt the tears that began to flow. She tightened her grip and unsuccessfully fought back sobs while trying to get her emotions under control.
Eiko noted the empathic feedback loop that was beginning to form between its Guardian and her mother with approval – this could do nothing but help its young companion in the long term. As a precaution it deftly bonded a subtle filter and loop dampener into the rapidly developing psychic link before withdrawing in satisfaction. Her mother would be a welcome anchor in the chaos that constantly forced its way into the youngster’s life.
The fact that the loop filter also provided the Artifact with a new secondary source of emotional content was strictly beside the point.
Nodoka began to stroke her … daughter’s … hair when she felt Ranma start to weep. Her own tears quickly followed – if there was any proof needed that she had truly destroyed her son, this beautiful and fragile girl crying in her arms supplied more than enough evidence to convince her of that fact. And even though her mother had insisted Ranma was still a man on the inside, her heart knew otherwise. There was nothing even remotely masculine left in this child: from the raw emotions painfully on display to the artfully styled and bowed coiffure to the stylish and very flattering outfit complete with women’s underclothes, there was no doubt at all in her mind that the person her arms were encompassing was a girl.
Her son was dead, and she had no one else to blame except herself and her own foolish pride. So be it.
Her mother had been quite correct on insisting that she surrender the tanto. She had just been given another chance, no matter how undeservedly, and she was not about to fail her child again. Ironically, it was an extremely easy decision to make. While Nodoka had been very proud of her son and his accomplishments, all of her knowledge of him had been acquired second hand through letters and postcards from that … thing … she once called a husband. She had never really known her son Ranma, especially given that the veracity of those very letters and postcards she had so treasured were now cast in an extremely questionable light. It was almost easy to give up the illusion of something she never really had in the first place.
Her daughter Ranma, on the other hand, was entirely too real. She had been very fortunate to have gotten to know her daughter over the last six or seven months, even though she hadn’t realized it at the time, and the deep visceral attachment she had developed towards “Ranko Tendō” was now readily explained.
Her daughter was suffering visibly, and this was a condition which would no longer be tolerated. Nodoka would do everything in her power to see to her daughter’s happiness.
Aiko shook her head. It looks like they would have to worry about getting Ranma properly dressed once they arrived, since it was obvious that wasn’t going to happen while they were in transit. No-chan had evidently taken her words to heart and Aiko was hesitant to interrupt the emotional bonding that was currently taking place between the two.
It had become quite evident that no plan could remain intact once it actually encountered the young martial artist. Aiko would just have to be patient.
Nerima
“What do you want?” Ukyō growled. Of all the people she didn’t need to deal with at the moment, Nabiki Tendo had to be near the top of the list. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” The okonomiyaki chef swept her arm in the direction of her other customers who were rapidly filling the available seats in the Ucchan’s. Ukyo watched as Nabiki smirked in an extremely irritating manner.
“Oh, I won’t take much of your … valuable … time, Kuonji-san,” Nabiki drawled. “I just thought you might like to know what Ranma has been up to during his latest adventure.”
Ukyō paused a moment while she prepped the next order. “So Ranchan is on a long training trip. Big deal.”
“So I guess you’re not interested in seeing how it all finally turned out then,” Nabiki’s smile turned rather predatory as she held up a videocassette tape.
“Ranchan’s back?”
“Not … exactly.”
Ukyō tried hard not to growl. She quickly finished making the seafood special and delivered it over to one of the window tables before hurrying back to the grill for the next order. “Look, TENDO-san, why don’t you just tell me how much you want for the damn tape instead of wasting everyone’s time playing twenty questions.”
“Five thousand yen.”
“WHAT?!? You must be crazy to think anyone would pay that for one of your little con jobs.”
Nabiki’s eyes turned cold. “You must really not want to know how Ranchan’s mother found out about the curse, do you.”
Ukyō felt the bottom of her stomach drop. “She didn’t …”
Nabiki’s smirk came back in full force as she held out her hand. “Nine thousand yen.”
Ukyō’s eyes flashed dangerously. She bit back another comment and silently opened her till. The exchange was made in silence.
Nabiki made quite a production of counting and double-checking the bills which comprised the suddenly increased purchase price. She stuffed the bills in her purse and strolled to the entrance of the restaurant, opened the door, and walked halfway through before halting and turning back to the silently fuming chef.
“Oh, and by the way, Kuonji-san, Ranma’s mother did not have him commit seppuku. She didn’t have to. Ja ne!”
With a negligent wave of a hand the middle Tendō daughter left the Ucchan. If she had bothered to look back she would have seen a young woman with a shocked expression whose complexion had turned completely white.
Suginami
“S-s-sorry.” Ranma’s whispered comment could barely be heard.
“What was that, dear?” Nodoka’s inquiry was almost as quiet.
“I’m s-sorry, Mom.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Ranma-chan,” Nodoka replied, stroking her daughter’s hair once more.
“I t-tried s-so hard at first, Mom,” Ranma continued in a shaky voice, “but P-Pops never let me or I’d g-get splashed or something s-stupid would happen and after a while I j-just s-s-stopped trying and it hurt s-so much to s-see the …”
“Shhhhhh,” Nodoka said quietly.
“… p-pain in y-your eyes when you t-t-talked about all th-the years you w-w-were alone and h-how it w-would all b-b-be worth it w-when y-you saw y-your m-m-manly s-son again a-and I w-want-ted y-you t-to b-b-be p-p-proud of m-me …”
Aiko was becoming quite alarmed over the scene developing in front of her. Ranma was beginning to break down completely, and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. She added her arms to her daughter’s embrace as best she could and concentrated on projecting an aura of peace and love. The Yamada matriarch hoped it would be enough.
“… b-b-but I w-was alw-w-ways a g-g-girl wh-when I s-saw y-y-you and-d I knew y-you c-c-couldn’t l-love m-m-me when I-I was s-such a f-freak a-and I d-d-didn’t w-want t-t-to d-die so I-I-I h-hid and I-I l-lied a-and I’m s-sorry I’m-m sorry I’m s-so sorry …”
Nodoka tightened her hold on her daughter when Ranma’s monologue dissolved into body-racking sobs once again. Her own heart was near breaking – she could literally feel the despair and loneliness roiling out of her child’s soul in overwhelming waves. The kendoka had yet to recover from her own recent turmoil and the immense tsunami of Ranma’s emotions wrecked any semblance of control she had managed to reestablish.
Nodoka was rapidly drowning in her daughter’s pain. Her thoughts floundered randomly about for a moment before the entire vortex of negative emotions suddenly vanished, to be replaced by a vast and unearthly calm.
Eiko smiled to itself. The loop dampener had required a little tuning before it was at optimal efficiency, and now that a catharsis of a sort had finally been reached its young Guardian could begin the process of truly healing from the abuse that had been so prevalent in her life to date.
All in all an extremely satisfactory sequence of events.
Somewhere in Limbo
It was impossible for Happosai to tell how long he had waited before his daughter returned – time in this neutral void had little meaning to those who were still corporate. When the swirling mist gathered in their quickened dance to reveal the young woman’s presence once more, her troubled expression did little to assuage his doubts.
“Papa, Tatsu Tokoyo-sama said that there was no evidence Ranma-kun had ever crossed over, but she didn’t deny it totally either. I’m sorry; she’s normally a lot more helpful than this.”
Happosai sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “That’s all right, Su-chan. The fact that you didn’t immediately find him is enough to go on for now.”
Yasuko nodded slowly. “Tokoyo-sama also asked me to give you this. She said you should wear it for at least a year.” She held out a glowing pendant suspended on a glittering chain.
Happosai could now understand why his daughter looked so troubled. A gift from a dragon was not something one could simply refuse, and even though you could never be sure if it was a boon or a bane, the one thing that was always consistent was that the item would be critically important. Somehow.
He carefully took the proffered item and examined it critically. It was a golden teardrop apparently made up of crystallized light suspended from an intricate golden chain. The teardrop gently pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He gingerly slipped the necklace over his head and was not all that surprised when it briefly flared to an almost blinding intensity before returning to a quiescent state.
Happosai barely had time to blink before his daughter glomped him once more. “I hope you find him, Papa,” Yasuko whispered.
“So do I, Su-chan. So do I.”
Imperial Palace, Tokyo
Hirohisa Fujiyama yawned noisily before reaching for his cup of coffee. He hadn’t expected to be called into work today, so he had been out clubbing until late last night and had stayed up even later back at his apartment with a really cute brunette named … named … what was her name again? Nanami? No, she was a couple of weeks ago. Minako? Nah, she had been really cute – a natural blonde to boot – but had suddenly run off on some pretext or another. Natsumi? Yup, Natsumi, that was it. He’d have to seek her out again in a month or two; she really had a nice butt.
Hirohisa glanced quickly across the bank of video displays monitoring the various entranceways into the Imperial Palace. The main part of the Yamada family was well past their scheduled time and Hirohisa was having trouble staying alert. He wished that they would hurry up and arrive so he could get back home in time to get ready for another evening of clubs and dancing. He wasn’t scheduled to be back on regular duty until Tuesday morning and he didn’t want to waste any more of his free time than he had too.
He really couldn’t complain that much, however. The Imperial House paid him very handsomely for his somewhat unusual talents and it was a position of rather high importance. The inconvenience of being on call twenty-four hours a day was a minor concern when all the positive benefits were factored in, and he had already been personally responsible in preventing several attempts to infiltrate the Palace over the previous two years. That was quite the feather in his cap, especially considering that he had barely turned twenty-five a few months ago.
A flash of movement from one of the exterior cameras caught his attention. A trio of limousines had just pulled up and stopped in front of the Sakura entrance.
Finally.
Hirohisa gave his checklist a last once-over before turning his attention to the monitor bank. He gave the first limousine a cursory once-over, just enough to positively identify the three officers and their driver. He was very careful to go no further than a surface identity scan – Mugonno-san was more than a little touchy about being probed by his own staff past the absolute minimum point mandated by regulations. The second limo was the longest of the three cars and its passenger door opened first. Hirohisa extended his mind again at the same time the security camera zoomed in for a closer shot.
First out was a good-looking woman in her mid twenties with waist-long black hair done up in a French braid. Hiro brushed his mind across hers and wasn’t surprised when a medium-strength reactive shield snapped into place. He could have broken through it, of course, but he had already gathered the key piece of data he was probing for: human, confirmed. She was also married as well. It figured.
Next was a sexy green-haired woman in her early twenties. Shields, human: check. Didn’t appear to be married – he’d have to check that out later on his own time.
Third was an extremely cute teenager with dark chestnut hair in a ponytail. Human, no shields – but the potential was definitely there. Must still be in high school, and she looked really uncomfortable in all of those layers. Following her was another girl about her age, light chestnut hair in a very attractive bob. Human, with a weak subconscious shield just coming into form. Probably related to the other girl, and nearly just as cute.
The last two out of the long limo were a couple more girls with very striking looks. The blonde had nearly the same aura and body posture as the green-haired woman, whereas the youngest was a really really cute redhead, probably late junior high, with a very strong shield. All of the girls were real lookers, too. Fortunately, all of them registered as human.
Hirohisa turned his attention to the last limousine, which had yet to open a door. This part of the Yamada family had more than its share of Talents and Latents, unlike the others he had scanned earlier, and there was a greater variety of lineage markers in this group so far. They were probably close relatives or extended family members of some sort – the previous group had been significantly more uniform in their psychic groupings.
Ah, the adults must be in this one. Mid-thirties, black hair, arms full of kimo … heh, that’s probably they were so late – someone must have been out and about without calling in. Ooh, active shields this time. Nice, in all ways, too!
It’s obvious who the next one is. The clan matriarch, and damn if she isn’t aware of my probing too. She looked right to where I am in relation to her before smiling at the security camera. Doesn’t appear to be an active reader but her shields and screens are nothing to sneeze at. Looks certainly appear to run in the family – she must have been something else when she was younger.
Oooooh, now there is one classy lady. Looks a little upset over something, and her shields are nice and tight. I don’t think I’ve seen so many Latents in one place that wasn’t either a school or a convention.
Looks like we’re about at the end of the … HOLY SHIT! DAMN, what a FOX. It’s obvious who was late, and that’s just fine with me. Covering up that bod is a crime against all humanity. I wonder if she’s available?
Let’s see … a NULL?!? No way … yup, still a Null. That doesn’t seem right, not in THIS family. I can hardly believe she’s not at least a Latent in something or other. True Nulls are almost as uncommon as Adepts. Still, that’s … damn, just look at the way she walks. Glides, more like. Damn. Fox doesn’t even come close. Sure hope she’s a natural redhead.
The young psychic stared at the security camera monitor until the party walked off-screen. He shook himself briefly and then picked up a handset from the console.
“Security. Yamada party is on the premises; check is clean.”
Hirohisa quickly hung up and reset a group of controls in the console. The party should be entering the initial interior foyer right … about …
He sighed as the group came into view on another monitor. Damn, damn, damn, she was hot. And since she was a Null, she wouldn’t even notice if he took a brief peek. Hirohisa extended his mind again, and tuned his senses in that peculiar manner required in order to slip unnoticed into a Null’s surface thoughts and memories.
“Do not trespass where you have not been invited.”
The telepath barely had time to register the mental image of an immense wooden mallet being hurled in his direction before his thoughts exploded in blinding pain and he slumped into unconsciousness.
Southesk Tablelands, Western Australia
Nightwing scowled while he surveyed the flat plains that comprised this remote portion of the outback. Walkabout had better have a good reason to call them all the way out here in the Never Never. It certainly couldn’t be about any new Black Morph activity – the metamorphs always chose densely inhabited regions to invade where there was plenty of human life force for them to capture and drain. He looked back briefly over his shoulder to check on the location of his current partner. Starscream was idly flying about a hundred metes to his right suspended in her usual contrail of plasma. Nightwing felt the brief flash of envy that passed through him every time he saw the effortless flight of the statuesque golden-haired beauty, which was immediately followed by an involuntary shudder when his intellect reminded him of the terrible price Lizzy had paid for her powers.
Enough of the woolgathering. Nightwing locked his wings into soar mode and increased his visor’s resolution to one hundred. Walkabout was nearly undetectable when he didn’t want to be seen – hopefully the irritating little twerp wouldn’t play his usual game of Hide and Seek this time.
Imperial Palace
Ranma’s conscious awareness of her surroundings suddenly returned to her when a distinct feeling of danger flashed briefly through her mind. She shook her head twice, trying to clear the cobwebs from her thoughts.
“This way, please.”
Ranma focused on the source of the frigid comment. Some old geezer in a morning coat and pinstriped pants was gesturing to the group as a whole, and for some reason he was glaring angrily at her as if she had just killed his favorite dog or something. She concentrated briefly before dismissing him out of hand as the source of the threat and continued to warily scan her surroundings while the entire Yamada party was directed to a medium-sized antechamber.
“Kumiko, you and No-chan start organizing Ranma-kun’s outfit,” Aiko directed once the doors to the room had closed. She gently guided Ranma by the elbow over to one of the floor-length mirrors on the side wall. “Jun, emergency kit; we’ll need the concealer, black eye, cleanser, and a medium base just to start. Naomi, hair. Midori-chan, over here and help Ranma-kun undress – the rest of you girls help Kumiko and No-chan.”
Ranma waited patiently while Aiko examined her face, turning her head back and forth several times with a soft touch to her chin. The Yamada matriarch nodded once firmly
“Ranma-kun, have you ever worn stage makeup before?”
“Umm, I don’t recall ever doing so. Akane and I were in a school play last fall, but they never asked me to put any makeup on – after all I was a guy at the time. Well, most of the time, that is,” she finished with a nervous chuckle.
“Son, both men and women wear makeup at times for various reasons. Right now you are not presentable enough to be meeting with the Emperor, as I’m fairly certain he would not appreciate having one of his named guests over for tea looking like they had just come from someone’s funeral. This can be fixed easily enough, but it will require the use of a little makeup to do so.”
Ranma turned to the mirror and inspected her face for herself. She could see what Grandma was talking about – both of her eyes shot with red, her eye sockets were puffy and swollen, and there were distinct tear tracks running down both cheeks. She glowered for a second when she noticed the thick cascade of red hair in the mirror’s reflection before turning back to face her grandmother.
“Sure, as long as you don’t add lipstick or eyeliner – being forced to wear them with the uniform is bad enough. The last thing I need is for people to start calling me ‘Ranko’ for real … and I really ought to do something with this mop. Anyone have a brush and a pair of scissors?”
“Ranma-kun, your hair is perfectly fine as it is,” Aiko said. “It just needs a little brushing out is all.”
“Ah, come on, Grandma,” Ranma replied. “I look like a total doofus with it this way, and it just doesn’t suit me to have it this long – I’ve really gotten used to wearing it in a pigtail these last few years.”
“A pigtail is totally unacceptable when meeting with the Emperor,” Aiko admonished. “Your hair should either be loose or styled in a high ponytail. The way it is now is more than adequate.” She sighed when she saw the expression on her grandson’s face harden. “We really don’t have time for this, Ranma-kun. What about something that comes down to your shoulder blades?”
“I can live with that, I suppose,” Ranma said after a moment’s hesitation.
“Naomi, see to it, please,” Aiko said. “Back clip cascade, and use Ranma-kun’s ribbon to replace the clip. Now, son, let’s see if we can’t do something about making that face of yours a little more presentable.”
Southesk Tablelands
Nightwing winced when he landed a little harder than he had intended and Starscream’s effortlessly silent touchdown only served to heighten his awareness of the clumsy landing. He nodded sharply to Walkabout and barely caught himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation. Walkabout was in one of those moods, and the sight of a short dark aborigine dressed up like a reject from Crocodile Dundee – complete with faux alligator boots and sixteen inch bowie knife was almost too much to take.
“G’day, mate!” Walkabout greeted the pair in a high squeaky alto. “It’s right ace you two could lob in for grog – care for a coldie?” The oddly-dressed aborigine pulled a couple of bottles out from nowhere and offered them to the pair.
“You know perfectly well I don’t drink when I fly, Walk,” Nightwing replied.
“No need to spit the dummy,” Walkabout quipped. “Here ya go, missy.”
Starscream caught the tossed beverage container and acknowledged with a small nod.
“So, what on earth prompted you to call for backup all they way out here?” Nightwing inquired with a sweep of his hand. “As far as I can tell there isn’t anything except the usual monsoon growth.”
“Hehe. You sure are a galah – even with those fancy sunnies of yours,” Walkabout said with a toothy smile. “Felt a big blue earlier but couldn’t locate it right away – and by the time I got here it had gone walkabout.”
Nightwing flipped his visor up before rubbing his temples and sighing. Yup, definitely one of those moods.
“Night! Walk!”
Nightwing glanced over to his left where Starscream had called out. She was about 40 feet away and gesturing down at the ground. When the two costumed men reached her location Walkabout whistled long and low.
“Strewth, that’s a big one.” He knelt down and examined the fifteen foot crater that had blown a circular swath out of the underbrush. He picked up a pinch of dirt and sniffed. “No Dreams in this.”
“No, this one was caused by magic,” Starscream replied. “It’s similar to one of my Plasma Bolts, except not elemental in nature.”
“There’s another one over there that’s even larger,” Nightwing said; his visor flipped down once more and in enhanced scan mode.
“Fair suck of the sav!” Walkabout exclaimed when he reached the edge of the twenty-five foot wide depression.
“I’m surprised you hadn’t already discovered these yourself, Walk,” Starscream remarked in her usual uninflected voice.
“I’ve been busy as a cat burying shit trying to yabber with a mob of local boomers,” Walkabout replied. He started walking to the southeast. “Have a Captain Cook at what I found over here.”
Walkabout led his two companions over to an area where the vegetation had been trampled flat in a highly irregular pattern. He knelt down and put his palm flat to the ground. “Far as I can tell, some blow-in sheila Dreamwalked over and had herself a ripper blue. Either that or she was chucking a sickie to hold her own private corroboree – take your pick.”
“Who do you think she was fighting?” Starscream asked.
“Some mongrel,” Walkabout replied with a shrug. “There were traces of both male and female lifeforce in the Dreamscape. Doc should probably Captain Cook this in person – things are definitely crook in Tallarook here.” The short aborigine sat down outside of the trampled area and pulled out a small didgeridoo. “Might as well have Tygr hop out with the Doc – she’ll be mad as a cut snake if she can’t sink some piss just down the road.”
Imperial Palace
Aiko did not fall over when she entered the tea room and saw the room’s décor and seating arrangements for the first time. She did not stumble, she didn’t even flinch. Aiko did none of the above – in fact her only visible reaction was a nearly imperceptible hesitation in her stride, one well hidden by the large volume of fabric currently surrounding her and noticed only by her grandson immediately behind her.
What Aiko felt like doing, however, was an almost irresistible urge to perform a classic cartoon facefault.
The Emperor and Empress’s presence at the main table was expected, as was Mugonno-san’s position at the other table – and Shiroi-san’s presence to the left of Mugonno-san certainly cleared up any remaining questions as to Mugonno-san’s relative status in his organization’s hierarchy. The room’s traditional décor, with fusuma screening, tatami mats, the two kotatsu tables complete with zaisu chairs; all of this did wonders in helping eliminate what few doubts the Yamada matriarch had left about the intentions of the Crown towards her clan – as did the Heian era ōninohō and jūnihitoe outfits the Imperial couple wore instead of their usual Western-style swallow-tailed coat and ball gown.
No, the only thing that was seriously out of place – and the thing that made Aiko want to inspect the weave of the goza mats up close and personal – was Lieutenant Commander Kuroi’s presence to the immediate right of the Emperor himself. What little she had seen of the young commander made her doubt that the Nisei was really aware of the significance of his current position. After all, it wasn’t every day that a foreigner was granted the position of Imperial yojimbo. And, considering the obvious topic of the upcoming conversation, his position at the table carried additional implications that he was also most likely ignorant of. Tsuya would be the obvious choice, of course – even if Kioko was technically next in line.
This could prove to be quite … entertaining. Aiko eyes sparkled at the thought. Given the current circumstances, the Yamada matriarch didn’t even mind the fact that she was about to be relieved of her position as the official head of the clan.
Ranma was … well … nervous. Not to mention irritable, confused, and just a little put out to top it all off. In the rush to get her “properly attired”, several key items of information had been quickly thrown her way – some of which were only now beginning to sink in. Probably the worst was that she had to hide behind “Ranko” again, since neither of her uncles or their families – who she had yet to get a good look at – knew about the curse. Evidently the entire extended Yamada clan was in attendance today, and if the glares she felt on the back of her neck were any indication, there were several people in her two uncles’ families who didn’t appreciate her being here at the Emperor’s table while they were stuck sitting on cushions back up against the wall behind her. And the smaller table off to her right where Seiko and the rest of the girls were sitting simply served to highlight her own presence at the main table.
There also seemed to be a lot more going on here than was evident on the surface. Her private tea times with Kasumi had shown her that a number of otherwise-insignificant details could hold a lot of hidden meaning, so she knew there had to be some reason for Grandma’s detailed instructions on how everyone was to enter the room and take their seats. What exactly that reason was, however, was still unknown. She had entered the room behind Grandma and in front of Mom, with Midori the last of the first group in. Okay, having just the four of them sit at the Emperor’s table at least made a little sense when they were the only ones mentioned by name in the invitation. However, after Grandma had sat down first in the middle of the table and she had followed suit to Grandma’s right, Mom had sat to the left of the Yamada matriarch, leaving Midori to sit down last to the immediate right of Ranma’s position. It was obviously supposed to mean something, but what? Considering that this wasn’t even a formal chanoyu, the obvious formality of the ritual left Ranma a bit confused. Similarly, Kioko leading the second procession to the smaller table had to mean something as well, but why Kioko and not Seiko or one of the other adults?
And while the implications of her two uncles and their families being stuck back against the wall without being served was very clear, why that particular message was being sent was unknown and more than a little troubling. The last thing she needed was more enemies who hated her guts for some unknown and mysterious reason. She somehow made enough of those on her own – she didn’t need anyone else’s help in accumulating more folks for that category, no siree sir indeed. Things were certainly a lot simpler when it was just her and Pops on the road. Ranma briefly wondered what the stupid old panda was doing.
Ranma quickly forced her thoughts away from that particular subject. It would only get her depressed the more she dwelled on it, and she needed to concentrate so she could figure out just exactly what sort of minefield she had stepped into this time. She waited for the Emperor and his wife to take the first sip before responding in kind, and was pleasantly surprised to discover she had been served Yin Zhen Bai Hao. When it became apparent the Imperial couple was going to allow everyone a little uninterrupted time to partake in their beverages, she allowed herself to relax just a touch and enjoy the taste and bouquet of the delicate white tea.
Nerima
The back door of the house opened and closed silently. Had anyone been nearby to observe this small event, they would have wondered how the entranceway had moved without any apparent assistance. However, the house had been abandoned by its sole occupant much earlier in the day, and the back door was shielded from casual observation by a tall fence which surrounded the small courtyard and garden set between the house and its attached dojo.
And the one responsible for the door’s movement had his own methods of escaping detection.
The non-shadow moved silently throughout the house, upstairs and down, looking for any signs of inhabitation. Once convinced that the house was currently unoccupied, Genma dropped the Goshin Dai Ryü Sei Fu and pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket. The acrimonious encounter with his wife earlier had seriously shaken the stout martial artist’s composure, and he desperately needed answers – not to mention a bit of working capital to live off for the next couple of weeks.
The first thing that caught his attention was the copy of the morning Asahi newspaper on the table, neatly folded to display the Judgements/Legal Announcements section. A quick scan of the page revealed a very unsettling fact, and Genma’s rage began building when he realized the potential consequences of the published announcement.
“She did it, she really did it. That BITCH. How dare she try to cast me out – it’s MY clan, not hers … she hasn’t the right! That stuck-up, over-honored, frigid little cunt. ‘For the death of my daughter and only son.’ Ranma is MINE. MINE, not hers. MINE. Declare open season on me, will you …”
Genma’s tirade continued unabated as he got up to search the house for a few critical items. He planned to have quite the chat with his “wifey” when she returned.
Imperial Palace
The exit of the servants from the room signaled the end to the period of quiet contemplation. There was a brief pause during which those sitting at the main table set their teacups down before the Emperor began to speak.
“Aiko-san, Ranko-san, Nodoka-san, Midori-san, we are honored by your acceptance of our invitation today.”
Aiko nodded solemnly. “Heika-sama, Clan Yamada is honored to attend the Throne at their leisure.”
“Indeed,” Emperor Hitomaro replied. “Aiko-san, it pleases us greatly to be able to converse personally with Clan Yamada today. It has always saddened us that circumstances have previously interfered with such pleasantries, especially with such an honorable clan as yours.”
“Clan Yamada has always striven to be worthy of such honor, Heika-sama.”
“And such efforts have not gone unnoticed, Aiko-san,” Emperor Hitomaro said with a slight acknowledgement of his head. “It has been a great comfort to know Clan Yamada values the path of their ancestors so highly. The preservation of such venerable traditions is a goal worthy in of itself; do you not think so, Aiko-san?”
“Of course, Heika-sama.”
“Clan Yamada honors their ancestors and us by their actions, Aiko-san.” The Emperor smiled and turned slightly to direct his attention towards the two youngsters. “The Clan should be proud their younger generation is pursuing so diligently the mastery of their families’ Arts. Such dedication towards tradition is all too rare in today’s world.”
Ranma tried not to wince when the attention of the Emperor landed squarely on top of her. Her nerves calmed considerably when she saw the genuine warmth in the Emperor’s eyes.
“Ranko-san, we are quite relieved to see how quickly you have recovered from your recent injuries. I understand you and your twin brother Ranma have had quite the adventure over the last month and a half.”
“Ahhh …” Ranma’s thoughts froze temporarily. “Twin brother? … Oh!” “Errm … I guess you could say that my, err, our life has been a bit more hectic than usual lately.” A brief moment of silence followed before she remembered to add “Heika-sama.” She felt her ears begin to burn.
Emperor Hitomaro chuckled. “Yes, I can easily see how being buried in a landslide would qualify as ‘a bit more hectic than usual’. We have often admired you and your brother’s … restraint over the last two years and hope that the more settled home and school environment you find yourself in now will allow you to concentrate properly on your studies over the next year. The value of a good education cannot be emphasized strongly enough, Ranko-san, and we assure you that the deplorable learning conditions which exist at your previous school have been brought to our attention and will be properly addressed.”
“Ahhh … thank you, Heika-sama,” Ranma responded with a small nod of her head. “Heh – it’s about time someone found out about what Pineapple-head was doing at Furinkan.” She hadn’t noticed how Aiko and Midori had both stiffened slightly when the Emperor mentioned the “more settled home and school environment”. This did not prevent the rest of the family from being considerably more observant.
“Nodoka-san,” Empress Chikako addressed the ex-Saotome matriarch with a nod. “Have you given thought to what your future plans might be now that you have finally been reunited with your children and birth family?”
Nodoka blinked at the … directness of the question posed by Empress. The entire conversation had been laced with layers upon layers of hidden meaning and the Emperor – and now the Empress as well – had been speaking with an overall bluntness which was almost unheard of in public. It was quite … disturbing. She smiled as best she could. “Heika-sama, my only desire at the moment is to have the time to become reacquainted with my family and children.”
The Empress’ smile lit up the room. “A most worthy goal, Nodoka-san, and one which should be pursued with the utmost of vigor. It brings much joy to our hearts to see a family reunited once more after so long an absence.” Empress Chikako turned to the last person at the table. “Midori-san, I rather suspect you and the other girls are looking forward to returning to a more formal learning environment for the next year, are you not?”
“Yes we are, Heika-sama,” Midori replied. She coughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment before continuing. “While the last year has been a wonderful learning experience, and the results worth more than any possible inconvenience, it will be nice to be able to attend class and get back in touch with all of our old friends again.”
The Empress nodded once in response before glancing briefly over towards her husband, who immediately stood up from the table in response. He assisted her in standing up before turning back to address the group at large.
“My friends, I must apologize for the unexpected brevity of this pleasant gathering. Ranko-san, Midori-san, would you do us the honor of attending to us?”
“It would be our pleasure, Heika-sama,” Midori responded, rising smoothly to her feet. She poked Ranma gently on the shoulder when the redhead remained seated.
“Huh? Oh, right … err … of course, Heika-sama.” Ranma shook her head sharply before standing up. She flushed when she noticed the gentle amusement on the Empress’ face, and decided to simply stare at the hem of the Emperor’s ōninohō. Hopefully no one else had noticed what an ass she had just made of herself. She continued to stare at the Emperor’s hem while she followed him out the door – barely aware of Midori’s presence behind her.
“Aiko-san, Nodoka-san, Suzu-san”, Empress Chikako said, the last name a bit louder than the first two, “please honor us with your attendance.”
“Certainly, Heika-sama,” Aiko replied. The Yamada matriarch, her daughter, and her eldest son’s wife had risen when their names had been called and each followed the graceful Empress out the door in single file.
Mugonno waited until the Empress’ procession had completely exited the room before standing up himself. “If you would all please follow the two gentlemen standing at the door, we have a banquet room open where you can partake in a wide variety cuisines and refreshments.” He studiously ignored the look of undisguised outrage which was painted across Tomoko Yamada’s face as she exited the room, an expression which did nothing to diminish the attractiveness of her near-supermodel features and stature. Yamada-dono’s youngest son’s wife was certainly proving to live up to her reputation. A pity, that.
Nerima
It was relatively quiet around the dinner table at the Tendō residence. There was no flash of dueling chopsticks, no yelled insults, no imprecations, no fighting … just the soft sound of four family members partaking in a peaceful evening meal. Appearances, however, are often deceiving, and to Kasumi Tendō it was anything but quiet. Her father at first barely touched his food, and when he finally ate it was with a mechanical precision which clearly showed the depression oozing out of his every pore, contaminating the house’s wa with it’s stifling negation. Akane had already broken three pairs of chopsticks, and she was vacillating wildly between intense rage and soul-searing grief. Kasumi could easily guess what was causing the rage, having heard her youngest sister yelling out in the dojo for two solid hours earlier about “that hentai pig”, “turn him into pork chops”, and other such vilifications – along with a wide variety of creative profanity. Kasumi would have to speak to Akane later about her language. The only one at the table whose mood was even close to being positive was Nabiki … which usually meant she had just fleeced someone in a manner more creative than usual.
Kasumi herself was strained almost to the breaking point – she had been keeping the house’s wa in a rough balance through sheer force of will and she knew the assistance she had been receiving from her ancestors would not last forever. She could only hope that the tensions in the house would lessen over the next week or two.
The elder Tendō daughter’s thoughts were interrupted by loud insistent knocking at the front door. The knocking stopped by the time she managed to get to the door. What she found when she opened the door was entirely unexpected.
“Good evening, ma’am. I am Lieutenant Tokichiro Hiyashi from the Chiyoda-ku eastern precinct. You are Kasumi Tendō, correct?”
“Y … yes, Lieutenant?” Kasumi’s usual serenity deserted her at the sight of the four uniformed officers at the front door – and more specifically at the presence of a pistol on prominent display in the Lieutenant’s belt holster. Police in Japan were never armed.
“Are Nabiki and Akane Tendō currently on the premises, Tendō-san?”
Kasumi nodded, her eyes widening. “Yes, we were all sitting down at dinner.”
Lieutenant Hiyashi nodded sharply. “I think you will find everything in order,” he said, presenting a bundle of folded papers to Kasumi. She accepted the thick packet without thinking. The lieutenant looked back at the other officers and barked a single word – “Batons” – before turning back to face Kasumi. “Excuse us, please,” he said, gently stepping by her into the house. The other three officers followed immediately behind after having pulled out vicious looking stun batons on the lieutenant’s command. Kasumi remained frozen at the door in shock.
Nabiki stood up from the dinner table, yawned, and stretched. “I’ll be in my room. Tomorrow’s going to be a very busy day at school.”
Akane continued to sit at the table, not having heard a word her sister said. Her fists began clenching into white-knuckled balls once more as the scenes from the videotape showing Ryōga turning into P-chan played over and over again in her mind.
“Nabiki Tendō, Akane Tendō …”
Nabiki’s head swiveled over to the open fusuma doorway where several uniformed police officers were entering the room. Her eyebrow arched when she saw the stun batons carried openly in their hands.
“… I am Lieutenant Tokichiro Hiyashi from the Chiyoda-ku eastern precinct.”
Akane jumped up to her feet. A red nimbus quickly surrounded her. Her face red, her entire body shaking, she yelled out her rage which could no longer be contained. “I’M GOING TO KILL THAT PIG!”
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
The youngest Tendō instantly collapsed to the ground, her muscles twitching from the fifty thousand volt charge.
Nabiki smirked and shook her head. “Smooth move, Sis.” She looked over to the officer in charge. “If you’re looking for Happosai or Genma, I’m afraid you just missed them.” She was quite startled when the nearest officer reached out to grab her wrist and force it roughly behind her back.
Click!
She was even more surprised to feel the handcuffs.
Click!
“You are under arrest!” Lieutenant Hiyashi exclaimed with finality. He pulled out his own stun baton and walked over to where the Tendō patriarch was sitting, being careful to stay just out of reach of the taller man. He was rather surprised Soūn had shown no signs of reacting to the scene playing out in the room. “Officer Kosugi,” Lieutenant Hiyashi called out, trying to position himself so he could keep the entire room within his field of vision.
“Sir!”
“Escort Kasumi Tendō-san to her room and attend closely to her needs. She is not involved unless she wishes to make it so, understand?”
“Yes, Sir!” The officer who had been last to enter the room clipped his baton back on his belt before turning to exit.
“Sergeant Nakagawa.”
“Sir!”
“Please secure Little Miss Muscle and make sure she cannot interfere with the rest of this investigation.”
“With pleasure, Sir,” the stocky officer replied. He knelt down next to the woozy girl laying prone on the tatami and pulled a bundle of thin yellow rope out from his back holster pouch.
Lieutenant Hiyashi cocked an eyebrow when the sergeant used a simple doubled-over length of the thin rope to tie the youngest Tendo girl’s hands behind her back. True, he had wrapped six turns around the girl’s wrists before knotting it tight, but still …
“Sergeant.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“That isn’t department regulation, is it?”
“No, Sir. New product field test from a prospective vendor, Sir.”
Lieutenant Hiyashi frowned. “Considering who you are attempting to secure, Sergeant, is it really wise to …”
“Not to worry, Sir. Excuse me, Sir.” Sergeant Nakagawa picked his stun baton up off the floor and extended it over to the youngster, who was just beginning to object to her current treatment.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
The sergeant holstered his baton and retrieved the length of rope he had been untangling, holding it up briefly for his superior to see. “Three millimeter twelve strand braided Vectran; tensile strength eight hundred sixty two kilos, Sir. Book specs indicate it should be more than sufficient, but I will be certain to properly address your concerns, Sir!”
“Very well; carry on, Sergeant,” Lieutenant Hiyashi replied with a smug look, knowing full well he had just granted the other officer carte blanche in applying his extensive personal knowledge of hojojutsu and nawashibari to the task at hand. His smug look turned into a self-satisfied smirk when he saw the Tendō patriarch’s eyes finally loose their vacancy and snap sharply into focus after the sergeant had applied a considerable amount of takate-kote binding to the young girl’s upper torso and arms. It took less than a second for Soūn’s expression to turn completely thunderous. The gi-clad martial artist leapt to his feet.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!?” The furious father exclaimed, his outburst accompanied by a horrific visage – the monstrous triple-headed projection of ki flashed overhead in a cacophony of fangs, claws, tentacles, dripping ooze, thunder & lightning, and a veritable miasma of fury and menace.
This was exactly what the Lieutenant had been waiting for. He thrust his baton directly at the taller man’s torso. Soūn’s reflexes took over, automatically blocking the thrust with a side arm bar which shifted into a disarming grab of the baton. He began to pivot, bringing his other hand to chop with a knife edge while his original movement began a side shoulder throw. Unfortunately, the tip of the stun baton was not the only location where electrodes were installed in the device.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
Lieutenant Hiyashi stumbled slightly when Soūn’s momentum caused him to spiral in a twisted heap instead of falling directly down to the floor. The officer took a moment to regain his balance before thrusting the baton down at the fallen patriarch once more.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
“Officer Murai!”
“Sir!” The young officer scurried over to the fallen Tendō patriarch’s position.
“Secure this man and take him out to the vehicles,” Lieutenant Hiyashi commanded. “Remain on guard and ensure he makes no attempt to escape.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Lieutenant Hiyashi watched impassively while the young officer cuffed and hobbled the Tendō patriarch before trying to pick him up. A few moments of futile struggling passed before the sergeant sighed, stood up, and walked over to assist the junior officer. The two men easily dragged the insensate father out of the room.
Nabiki breathed a silent sigh of relief. Evidently the lieutenant didn’t have a warrant for her father and had orchestrated the entire scene in an effort to provoke him – quite successfully, too. She noted the sergeant had calmly continued his efforts in immobilizing her younger sister while the scene with her father had played out and had completed what appeared to be a very uncomfortable gyaku-ebi crossed-ankle hogtie before leaving to help the younger officer.
“It hurts,” Akane whined as she strained against her bonds, trying to relieve some of the pressure on her wrists and ankles.
Lieutenant Hiyashi shook his head as he looked down at the bound figure. “Perhaps you should have taken that into consideration before yelling death threats directly in the face of an arresting officer, Miss Tendō.”
“But, I wasn’t … I didn't even know he was … that wasn’t what I meant at all.”
“Oh, puleeeeease. Save the innocent little school girl act for your gullible friends.”
Akane grimaced; her physical discomfort made even worse by the barely suppressed snicker from her older sister. “I’m sorry; I didn’t really mean anything. I’m just mad at someone who I thought was a friend. Please, it wasn't my fault; this is all just a big mistake.”
Lieutenant Hiyashi snorted. “Oh, it’s no mistake Miss Tendō – the orders for your arrest originate from the highest level. We’ve been watching the two of you and your little operation for quite some time now.”
Nabiki felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. This was so not good.
“I don’t understand,” Akane replied with another whine.
“You don’t have to understand.”
“But …”
“Miss Tendō, if you continue to obstruct the investigation in this manner I will instruct Sergeant Nakagawa to expand the scope of your restraints to include that big mouth of yours. You will be quiet unless instructed otherwise; is that understood?”
“…”
“I said, is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Akane responded in a tiny and tremulous voice.
“Wonderful. See, you can learn.”
Lieutenant Hiyashi waited until the sergeant walked back into the room before turning to the other occupant. “Nabiki Tendō, you can either direct me to the location of all of your operation’s records and assets, or you can join your sister on the floor under the tender auspices of Sergeant Nakagawa while we dismantle the residence and surrounding structures board by board. Your choice.”
Nabiki swallowed with difficulty – this had blown past “damage control” and “utter disaster” all the way to “total nightmare”. She nodded, carefully keeping her eyes cast firmly towards the floor. “They’re up in my room, Sir.”
“Good girl – I knew you were the smart one of the two. Lead the way.”
“So this is everything?” Lieutenant Hiyashi asked while pointing to the assorted pile in the middle of the floor.
“Yes, Sir,” Nabiki replied, rubbing her wrists with her hands to get rid of the pins and needles tingling left behind by the removal of her handcuffs. The Lieutenant had effectively immobilized her during the search of her room by the simple expedient of sitting her down in her desk chair while slipping her handcuffed hands over and around the chair’s high back. The position, once seated, had been both secure and uncomfortable and Nabiki was glad her decision to actively cooperate had convinced the Lieutenant to grant her a little leniency.
“I see,” Lieutenant Hiyashi said. He picked up her new 35mm Nikon SLR from the “contraband” and checked the film loading. Finding the camera empty, he rummaged briefly in the pile until he found an unused roll of film, then quickly loaded and prepped the camera before taking a couple of test shots of the various items set aside.
“Nice camera,” he said with a nod. “Stand up, Miss Tendō.” The Lieutenant sat down on the edge of her bed and gestured at the pile. “Over there.”
Nabiki stood up and took a couple of steps to stood near the middle of the room.
“Strip.”
“Wha…” she blurted, eyes flying open in surprise.
“Come now, Miss Tendō, what sort of fool do you take me for? Do you really expect me to believe that this … meager … pile is the sum total of your entire operation?”
“But …”
“Since you have obviously decided to obstruct the progress of this investigation, I am simply forced to increase my diligence by including a comprehensive visual inspection of all aspects of this case … including any participants.”
Nabiki stared, open-mouthed, at the smirking Lieutenant. His was an expression she knew well; it was the same one she employed while executing an exceptionally favorable “deal”.
“I don’t have all day, Miss Tendō.” The Lieutenant’s expression hardened. “Or would you prefer I call Sergeant Nagakawa up and have him perform a comprehensive and lengthy physical examination instead?” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “And here I thought you were the smart one. Oh well.”
Nabiki jerked her head once and raised her hands to her top blouse button. The Lieutenant raised the camera up and leered openly.
“Smile for the camera, kiddo.”
Ukyō looked up from the grill she was cleaning when she heard someone banging loudly on the front door.
“We’re closed,” the okonomiyaki chef called out before turning her attention back to a particularly stubborn glop of charcoaled detritus in the corner of the grill. The evening dinner rush had been more hectic than usual with the Nekohanten being temporarily closed over the last couple of days. Her regular customers often complained about her closing early on Sundays, but she had to reserve some time for schoolwork and the Sunday crowd was light enough she could normally afford the slight loss in income closing early entailed.
She sighed when the banging at the door resumed. Ukyō stripped off her apron and the heavy rubber gloves before reaching back to pluck her combat bandolier from its hook on the wall. A flip and a quick shrug settled the familiar weight across her right shoulder before she marched around the counter to the door. “What part of ‘we’re closed’ don’t you understand?” she called out to whoever was on the other side of the locked shoji. After Nabiki’s little visit she was in no mood for company.
“Kuonji-san? I am Shoichi Hiroyoshi from the central Directorate office along with my partner Hideaki Ishihara. We wish to discuss your present relationship with the Saotome clan and would greatly appreciate a few moments of your time.”
Ukyō quickly unlatched the lock on the two shoji and slid one of them open about a foot. “If this is some sort of joke …” she growled out. Two men in dark business suits stood on the other side of the screen – one of them was carrying a briefcase, the other had a photo identification card extended out which verified his name and position in the National Intelligence Directorate. She nodded and opened the shoji to let the two officers in, closing and latching it behind them.
“Take a seat while I put some tea water on.” Ukyō was beginning to become concerned – what could the Directorate possibly have to do with Ranchan, anyway? Maybe this was about that rat bastard of a father of his.
“Thank you, Kuonji-san, but please do not trouble yourself on our account,” Hiroyoshi replied. Both men sat down on stools closest to the entranceway while Ukyō walked back around the end of the L-shaped counter. “Our business here should take little of your valuable time and we apologize for disturbing your evening with this matter.”
Ukyō was definitely nervous now. She pulled up a stool and sat directly across the counter from the two officers.
“Kuonji-san,” Hiroyoshi said with a professional smile, “the Throne prefers not to interfere in affairs of honor between clans. However, given the recent circumstances surrounding clan Saotome it was felt that it would be to the benefit of everyone concerned that your particular situation be resolved in a definitive manner. I believe you are now aware, at least in part, of the events that took place February twenty-sixth at Horaisan, Ehime Prefecture between Ranma Saotome and the Chinese foreign national?”
“N.not really,” Ukyō replied, her face quickly draining of color. “Nabiki sold me a tape, but I haven’t had a chance to watch it yet.” “Please, oh kami-sama please don’t let it be for real.”
“May I see this tape, please?”
Ukyō nodded. “It’s right over here,” she said, walking over to the counter where the cash register sat. When she sat back down and handed the tape to the officer he immediately passed it over to his partner.
“How much did Tendō-san charge you for this information?”
“N.nine thousand yen.”
“Thank you, Kuonji-san,” Hiroyoshi said with a nod. “This should enable us to add an additional and quite serious charge to the ones already pending against Miss Tendō. This tape details, amongst other things, the result of Ranma’s final conflict – one he did not return from.”
“This information was also made available to Nodoka Saotome, Ranma’s mother,” Hiroyoshi continued. “In response, she cast Genma out of clan Saotome before closing and sealing the Saotome registry.”
A sharp intake of breath was Ukyō’s response to this news. She was too shocked to say anything else.
Hiroyoshi nodded. “Clan Saotome no longer exists, Kuonji-san. Both Nodoka and Ranma Saotome are legally dead and the ronin Genma is no longer of any concern to the Kuonji’s honor. Any additional punishment meted out to the ronin would be purely for personal satisfaction – the Throne no longer acknowledges his existence. The only remaining issue which could still be considered a stain on the Kuonji’s honor is the matter of the stolen dowry. Ishihara-san?”
“Thank you, Hiroyoshi-san”, the other officer replied. “Kuonji-san, the entirety of the dowry agreed upon by clans Saotome and Kuonji was the fully provisioned okonomiyaki yattai which, at the time, was your family’s sole source of income, correct?”
Ukyō nodded silently. “Oh, kami-sama, no.”
“Is it also correct in assuming,” Ishihara continued relentlessly, “that the loss of the yattai and its resulting stain on clan Kuonji’s honor led, directly or otherwise, to significant social and financial hardships which continued to plague clan Kuonji from the time of the theft until the present?”
Ukyō nodded again, tears filling her eyes.
The officer set his briefcase up on the counter and opened it. He pulled out a small bank book and set it in front of the ponytailed brunette. “An account in your name has been created for the sum of two hundred million yen. One hundred million covers the estimated cost of the yattai itself along with potential loss of income and interest over the eleven year period. An additional one hundred million was included to compensate for living expenses, tuition, and future loss of business should you choose to pursue educational opportunities previously denied to you by said social and financial difficulties. All of these funds are available for use at your own discretion – no conditions or restrictions have been placed on their use and you personally are the only one to have access to this account until you specify otherwise. Being the aggrieved party, do you find these terms and estimates to be acceptable on behalf of clan Kuonji?”
Ukyō stared vacantly at officer Ishihara in response. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. “Ranchan’s dead. Kami-sama, it’s all true – he’s really dead. I was so sure that slut Nabiki was just pulling another scam, but it’s … he’s … kami-sama, Ranchan …”
“Kuonji-san?” Ishihara inquired.
Ukyō ground the back of her hands viciously across her eyes, trying to scrub away the tears. She looked over to the two bleary images in front of her and nodded sharply. “Y.yes, that’s f.fine.”
Ishihara acknowledged with a brief nod before pulling a clipboard from his briefcase. “If you would sign this authorization, please, the funds can be made available for your use by two o-clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll g.get my hanko,” Ukyō replied. She left the counter for a couple of minutes before returning with a small box. The officer handed her the middle copy after she had signed all three sheets on the clipboard. Ishihara quickly repacked his briefcase before both officers stood up and bowed in unison.
“We apologize for disturbing your evening, Kuonji-san,” Hiroyoshi said, “but are pleased this issue has been resolved in a satisfactory manner. Your family will be very pleased to see you once again now that there are no further obligations which require such an extended absence. May your life be long and joyful.”
Ukyō sat and stared while the two officers exited and closed the shoji behind them.
The two Directorate officers walked several blocks from the Ucchan’s before stopping at a streetside corner bench. Ishihara sat down, opened his briefcase, and made several adjustments to a small box before handing the handset over to the other officer. Hiroyoshi nodded in thanks before dialing a long sequence of numbers.
“Hiroyoshi,” the officer said into the handset after a short delay. “Authorization buji na meimu no naitei. En route to secondary, twenty minutes max.” The officer listened for a few seconds before acknowledging. He hit the disconnect key and gave the handset back to Ishihara.
“Any problems?” Ishihara asked while closing the briefcase back up.
“Nope,” Hiroyoshi replied. “Hayashi and Kato are already waiting for us there with the truck. Komatsu’s busy with another site until nineteen hundred hours, so if anything reacts it will have to be left alone until she arrives.”
“Our Talents have been rather busy lately, haven’t they?” The two men began to walk in the direction of their next destination
“They sure have. Most of them are still tying to clean up that mess over in Minato-ku.” Hiroyoshi chuckled wryly. “Watanabe-san is mad as a hen that no one in the field has managed any sort of lead on that group of sailor girls. Hell, the press has better intel on them at the moment than we do.”
Ishihara furrowed his brows. “Why aren’t we allowed to go after them? Kami-sama knows Ops never has enough Talents available as it is.”
Hiroyoshi gave his partner a puzzled look before suddenly smiling. “Oh that’s right, you’ve been in Records the last two years, haven’t you? Those orders come all the way from the very top, from Tennō Heika-sama himself: ‘Allow any blessed by the kami with gifts of unusual nature to serve the Nation in ways they see best.’ Top brass has grumbled about that for years, but after Kikugawa and Okabe were sacked in the same two week span in ‘92, Ops has been laying real low when looking for Talents.”
“Damn, that sucks,” Ishihara said with a frown. “Well, hopefully we won’t have the same sort of excitement the team handling the Tendōs is likely to run into. I managed to skim the file on that mess – what a bunch of psychos. I still don’t understand why the kid hasn’t already boffed them all by now.”
“Why do you think we’re now handling this?” Hiroyoshi growled. “I really wish we could have stuck to the original plan for that crew – it would have been nice to see the brat get a nice big fat real life wake up call for once in her life. Just having the porn queen arrested, and arrested nicely at that, seems more than a bit parsimonious to me.”
“I know,” Ishihara agreed with a nod. “Well, at least we can have some fun watching the SWAT team field test the new taser tomorrow. That kendo nut will make a good target dummy if the reports on him are even close to being accurate.”
“Yeah, that will be fun,” Hiroyoshi replied with a chuckle. “Let’s pick up the pace a bit, okay? The faster we can get the ‘hanten cleaned out, the quicker I can get home to the missus for some ‘quality time’.”