Chapter 3: A Different Path
Ehime Prefecture - Wednesday, March 2nd 1994
“Okay, short break!”
Kioko and Tsuya sighed in relief as Midori called a halt to their grueling march across the rugged ground. Carefully setting down the improvised litter, both girls groaned as they collapsed wearily for a minute’s rest. Carrying their own packs in addition to Ranma’s litter was pushing them to their limits, even after they had discarded everything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.
Midori wasn’t getting the easy end by any means either, carrying as much as she could from the other two girls’ packs to help lighten their load. Additionally, she also burdened with Ranma’s pack. This was of course after discarding the rather large sack of rocks discovered in the bottom of it; Tsuya had almost fallen over the first time she had tried picking it up back at their original campsite.
Midori knelt next to the unconscious girl and quickly checked all of the bandages and dressings. They had cleaned her up and doctored her wounds yesterday as best they could, but Ranma should really be in a hospital instead of being carted about in the wilderness. Satisfied that none of Ranma’s wounds had reopened and her broken arm hadn’t shifted from the movement, Midori sat in a flop next to the other two girls.
Tsuya noticed the look on her cousin’s face. “Midori, what’s wrong?”
“I’m worried. She’s not healing like she should.”
“She did spend a considerable period trapped underground,” Kioko commented.
“Buried alive,” Tsuya whispered, shuddering at the unpleasant thought.
“Yes, but that doesn’t explain why she won’t heal,” Midori countered. “You’ve seen her, how fast she always bounces back from everything. It’s almost like she’s been turned off from the inside. I don’t like what that implies.”
“What do you think it means?” Kioko inquired.
“I think she’s dying, Sis. After all she’s been through, she’s going to die right in front of our eyes because we can’t get her to a hospital fast enough.”
“That might have happened anyway, Onēchan,” Kioko replied. “I seriously doubt she could have made it back to Matsuyama on her own, and you know we were never supposed to interfere in her life in the first place.”
“Yah, Grandma’s going to be pretty pissed with us when we get back,” Tsuya added.
“We’re not interfering, we’re involved. There’s a difference.” Midori said with conviction.
“Obāsama might not make that distinction,” Kioko replied.
“You let me worry about Obāsama, Sis. It was my decision to make. Besides, what were we supposed to do? Ranma blasted her way right up in the middle of our camp; we were involved the instant she saw us. It would have been a lot more suspicious if we had just taken off without helping her once she’d seen us.”
“You don’t have to convince me, Onēchan. I’m simply raising the point that our current actions might not be received in the best of lights given the explicit instructions we were supposed to follow.”
“I know, Sis, I know,” Midori sighed. “We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we reach it.”
Midori stood and stretched. “Time to get this show back on the road. Tsuya, are you sure you haven’t accidentally lost the beacon? Harukichi should be returning with help any time now, and they’ll never find us without it.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Tsuya huffed. She rustled around briefly in her pack before handing over a device that looked like a small walkie-talkie. “SEE?”
Midori glared at her cousin after quickly looking the device over.
“Tsu-chan?”
“Yes, Mi-chan?”
“It’s not turned on.”
“Ummm,” Tsuya flushed a brilliant red. “oops?”
“TSUYA!”
“GomengomenI’mreallyreallysorryitwon’thappenagainhonestIpromise” Tsuya rattled off in a very small voice.
“Honestly,” Midori sighed, shaking her head. She made sure the beacon was actually transmitting before handing the device back to her younger cousin. She pointedly watched as Tsuya secured the device inside her pack once more.
The girls gathered up their belongings before gently picking up Ranma’s litter to resume trekking across the mountainous terrain.
Nerima
Nodoka Saotome sat at the table while she sipped her afternoon tea. She was alone, a condition she was all too familiar with. Recently there had been hope that her lonely vigil would end when she had learned her husband and son were finally finished with their endless training journey, but every time she had visited the Tendōs her men were off somewhere else undergoing yet more training.
Such devotion to the Art! Such dedication! Nodoka was extremely proud of her son.
One good thing had come of her frequent visits to the Tendō dōjō; she had become friends with the four lovely Tendō girls. Well, she really hadn’t gotten to know Nabiki much yet, but the other three Tendōs were quite pleasant company. She always enjoyed exchanging recipes with Kasumi, and Akane was a sweet and lovely girl, but it was their cousin Ranko who Nodoka felt the most connected to. The girl seemed heartbreakingly lonely, a condition Nodoka understood all to well; it showed in her affected tomboyish attitude and the almost desperate manner in which Ranko tried to please her every time she dropped by for a visit.
Nodoka frowned. She hadn’t seen Ranko for several weeks now, and although they tried to hide it she could tell the Tendōs were worried as well. She hoped the girl hadn’t run away, though that was certainly a distinct possibility. Ranko was just the sort of girl who could be, and evidently had been, outcast and shunned by her peers. She was brash, outspoken, stubborn, energetic, and cute as a button; the sort of nail that others would take undue pleasure in trying to hammer firmly down. Nodoka knew from personal experience just how cruel kids of that age could be.
Ranko was also talented and highly intelligent, which probably didn’t help her social situation either. She had advanced considerably in the Art and had even managed to teach her pet Panda sign language, a truly remarkable accomplishment in itself. Unfortunately, the latter was another indication of how lonely the poor girl was; she must have spent far too many hours by herself with only “Mr. Panda” for company.
Perhaps she should approach the Tendōs and broach the possibility of having Ranko move in with her for the near term. While they certainly provided ample monetary support for the girl, they seemed to be doing little for her emotional needs. A panda was an exotic and very expensive pet for them to have bought to be sure, but it was a poor substitute for a warm and loving home environment. Nodoka had noticed the fierce yet carefully hidden competition going on between Ranko and Akane on more than one occasion, which couldn’t be helping Ranko with her current troubles. Akane was a beautiful, intelligent girl who was extremely popular; she’d apparently attracted the attention of virtually every boy in her school even after the engagement had been announced. Why Akane would feel the need to be jealous of Ranko was really quite beyond her.
The more Nodoka thought about asking if Ranko could live with her, the more she was certain it was the proper thing to do. It would help out everyone concerned by relieving some of the tensions at the Tendōs, and who knows? If things didn’t work out properly between Ranma and Akane, perhaps the engagement could be switched over to Ranko instead. She was a Tendō after all, so the agreement to unite the two schools would still be fulfilled. And her devotion to the Art was certainly much stronger than Akane’s.
Nodoka’s thoughts were interrupted by the resonant gong of the doorbell. Glancing at the clock, she wondered briefly who it could be; the mail had already been delivered today and it was a little too early for any salesmen to start showing up. She frowned as she recalled the spate of highly aggressive door to door salesmen who had been canvassing the neighborhood recently; discouraging them had required fairly firm measures to be employed. She picked up her honor blade as she moved to answer the door. It never hurt to be ready, after all.
What greeted her eyes when she opened the door was certainly unexpected, to say the least. It was a petite girl in her early teens, dressed in a formal kimono. The girl’s unusually long braided red hair and emerald eyes were made even more striking by the stark all-black kimono and obi worn by a person in formal mourning.
“Nodoka Saotome-san?”
“Yes?”
“I am Harukichi,” the girl replied as she bowed respectfully. “I have been instructed to deliver this to you in person.” The girl held out a small white box, presenting it to Nodoka with both hands.
Nodoka hesitated briefly before taking the small package from the girl, who promptly stepped back a pace and bowed once more.
“Thank you, Saotome-san. I will now take my leave.” The girl took three steps backwards before turning around to walk briskly out the gate.
Nodoka stood in her doorway for several moments with a puzzled look on her face. That had been … odd. The girl hadn’t even given her a chance to invite her in for a cup of tea. And now that she thought about it, another pot of tea sounded like a good idea.
As Nodoka poured a fresh cup of tea, she looked at the small box on the table. She couldn’t find any distinguishing marks or features to hint at its contents, and it certainly wasn’t very heavy. Setting the teapot down, she carefully opened the box and removed the contents. Inside was a VHS videotape cassette and a single folded sheet of paper. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the writing on the cassette label.
There was a single word written in large bold print: RANMA.
Excited, she quickly unfolded the sheet of paper and read the contents of the note.
Saotome-san,
If you doubt the truth of the images shown on the
enclosed
videotape, throw hot tea on the panda the next time you
visit the
Tendōs.
Harukichi.
Nodoka’s momentary elation disappeared as fast as it had arisen. Her hands started shaking when she recalled how the young woman had been garbed and she saw the clan seal next to the girl’s signature. It was the mon of her mother’s family.
Ehime Prefecture
As Ranma slowly regained consciousness she realized she felt extremely queasy. She groggily wondered how she had managed to get onto a boat; the deck was tossing and bouncing about so much there must be a bad storm at sea. When she forced her eyes open and found herself staring up at trees in a forest with clear blue evening sky overhead, her confusion mounted. She saw the back of a chestnut haired girl towering over her. Ranma tried asking what was going on, but all that came out was a raspy wheeze.
“Stop! Stop! Halt! Midori, she’s awake!” Ranma winced from the shrill yell that emanated from somewhere near her feet. A quick bout of vertigo hit her when she suddenly decelerated. This was made worse by a subsequent drop of several feet straight down. Eyes whirling and unfocused, Ranma tried to voice her objections when her body was shaken by another brief paroxysm of dry and painful coughing.
“Shhhh. Try to relax, you’re in no shape to be doing anything right now.”
Ranma felt her head being cradled just before a gentle trickle of liquid hit her tongue. It may have only been water, but to Ranma it tasted like Nectar. Her eyes focused on a girl about her own age with brown eyes and a ponytail of dark chestnut hair who was holding a canteen up to Ranma’s lips. She grabbed the canteen with her right hand and began to drink greedily.
Midori was both surprised and relieved at the strength in Ranma’s grip. She tried to slow Ranma’s drinking down so the girl wouldn’t choke, but the hold on the canteen had rapidly progressed from “Firm” to “Nearly Unbreakable”. Ranma didn’t release her grip until she had drained the canteen dry.
“Ahhh,” Ranma sighed as she lay back down. The only problem with partially satisfying her thirst was that it made her suddenly aware of her ravenous hunger. The thought of food rapidly crowded everything else out of her mind. Quickly she deduced she wasn’t going to get anything to eat by just lying about. Ranma groaned as she struggled to sit up, grabbing the shoulder of the girl kneeling next to her for a little extra leverage.
“Whoa there girl.” Midori tried gently forcing Ranma back down, but stopped when she realized doing so would simply cause both of them to fall over. Rapidly reversing herself, Midori helped Ranma achieve a sitting position, marveling briefly at the power contained in that deceptively petite frame. It was one thing to observe it from afar; quite another to feel it so directly in person, especially considering the injuries Ranma had sustained.
“Thanks,” Ranma replied before managing a weak smile. “Not to be rude or nothin’, but I’m starvin’. You seen my pack anywhere ‘round here?”
Midori barely stopped from slapping her own forehead with a palm. That certainly answered the question of how badly Ranma was injured if she was already starting to complain about food. Midori glanced over to Kioko to see her sister already digging through her pack for the field rations.
“You sit there, we’ll bring you something to eat in a minute.”
Ranma’s eyes lit up when she saw her own pack a few feet to her left. Without thinking she boosted herself to her feet, only to stop when a strong wave of dizziness washed through her. Her vision began to white out as the ground dipped and rolled beneath her. Ranma fell back down in a heap, landing hard on her left side before anyone could catch her. Her broken arm took the brunt of the fall and the sharp spike of pain almost drove her back into unconsciousness.
“Owwww!” Ranma groaned as the other girl helped her to a sitting position. “OK, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”
Midori frowned as she handed a bag of omusubi over to Ranma. Ranma was pushing herself too hard, just like Harukichi did whenever she was hurt. Midori’s frown deepened when she spotted fresh blood stains in the bandages wrapped around Ranma’s broken arm. Her inspection was interrupted when Ranma handed the empty bag back to her.
“Could ya hand me my pack? I really got to fix up some food.”
Midori glanced up and noted the slightly dazed look in Ranma’s eyes. She recognized the signs of mild concussion. Shaking her head in exasperation, Midori took a hold of Ranma’s chin and gently forced the girl to look at her. “Ranma, you really need to just SIT THERE. We’ll take care of cooking and setting up camp. You have a concussion, cracked ribs, broken arm, and too many cuts, scrapes, and bruises to count. When you fell a moment ago you opened your arm back up again, and who knows WHAT else you’ll re-injure if you insist on trying to do things for yourself.”
“I suggest, Ranma, that you follow her advice. I did mention before you passed out that you had overextended yourself to the point that you could no longer properly direct and use the life force I can provide. You must replenish your energy before further ki usage will be allowed for healing.”
“Huh? Oh yeah.”
Midori held eye contact for a moment before nodding once. “Kioko! Campfire.”
“On it already, Onēchan.”
“Tsuya! Med kit.”
“Here you go.”
“Thanks. Campsite, two tents.”
“Will do!”
Satisfied that the other girls had the campsite setup in hand, Midori turned her attention back to her problem patient. “Now, let’s take a look at that arm again.”
Ranma shook her head. “Gotta eat first.”
Midori sighed.
“‘Scuse me,” Ranma said, setting down her bowl with a burp. The four of them had eaten their way through all the aji, niboshi, omusubi, roasted daizu, and instant ramen, and had made a serious dent in the remaining rice and miso supplies. Ranma had wolfed down more than half of the meal by herself, but the other three girls had been pushing themselves hard for several days and were a little surprised at their own appetites.
Ranma glanced around at her new companions. Now that her thoughts weren’t totally overridden by hunger it was time to clear up a few things. She turned to the pony-tailed girl who seemed to be in charge.
“Thanks for the grub, it really helps. I do got a couple a questions ‘bout all this. First of all, who are you guys?”
Midori smiled. “I’m Midori Yamada. I apologize for not introducing ourselves earlier.”
“Kioko Yamada,” said the other chestnut-haired girl.
“Tsuya Kurayami,” replied the blonde.
“And I’m Ranma Saotome. But you already knew that, didn’t ‘cha?”
Midori suppressed a start of surprise. She had really hoped Ranma hadn’t noticed that one slip. Smiling, she nodded in agreement.
“Thought so. Now, you want to tell me what three cute girls are doin’ out here in the middle of hell and gone cartin’ my carcass ‘round on a litter? Not that I’m ungrateful or nothin’, and someone did a really good job patchin’ me up, but this ain’t exactly an easy place to get to, y’know?”
Midori sighed. Obāsama was NOT going to be happy. Oh well, might as well jump all the way in to the deep end.
“Ranma, we’ve been … watching you for a little while now. We were watching when you fought the Musk warlord, and thought that you had died when the mountain collapsed. I can’t tell you how surprised we were when you blasted that tunnel up in the middle of camp.”
“OK, that explains the feelings I’ve been gettin’ the last couple’a months ‘bout something always lookin’ over my shoulder.” Ranma narrowed her eyes. “Now, you gonna tell my why you’ve been watching me?”
Midori crossed her fingers. “Because we’re family, Ranma.”
“HA! KNEW it,” Ranma crowed. “So, what did the old man sell me for THIS time? A bag of rice? A case of sake? …”
“Ranma?”
“… or maybe it was for some mochi and a box of Pocky? …”
Midori stared at Ranma in exasperation. “Ranma?”
“… I know! He sold me out for two pickles and a fish! Wouldn’t be the first time …”
“RANMA!” Midori’s yell broke through Ranma’s tirade.
“Err, yeah?”
“We’re not fiancées, we’re your cousins.”
Ranma’s thoughts halted completely. Her jaw hung open for a long moment.
“C… cousins?”
Midori nodded vigorously. Ranma looked around at the other two girls and received smiling nods in reply.
“Cousins? I have … cousins?”
“Yes, Ranma. We’re your cousins. You even have a grandmother who’s been very worried about the direction your upbringing has taken you. She really wants to meet you.”
“But …” Ranma’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “… Pops never mentioned …?”
“Ranma, we’re cousins from your mother’s side of the family,” Kioko responded.
“Mom …” Ranma almost whispered, longing evident in her voice. A short moment later the confused expression returned. “Wait a minute. You guys know about the curse, right?”
All three girls nodded.
“And … does ‘Grandmother’ know ‘bout it too?”
The nods repeated.
“Then … how come mom don’t know ‘bout the curse by now? And why haven’t I heard nothin’ ‘bout Gran’ma from her or seen them together over at the Tendōs? The way mom and Kasumi gossip all the time, I’m pretty sure I woulda heard something ‘bout her or seen her or …”
“Ranma, I don’t know all of the details and you really should hear this directly from grandmother herself, but I’m fairly certain that grandmother and your mother had a serious falling out a long time ago. I don’t think they’ve spoken to each other once since then.”
“Figures,” Ranma sighed. “Man, I really wish sometimes that …” Her shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “… never mind.”
Midori placed a hand on Ranma’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m sure Obāsama will be more than happy to tell you all about your mother’s side of the family when you meet her. Now, are you going to let me look at that arm of yours?”
Ranma managed a wan smile. “Might as well. You really don’t need to worry ‘bout it, though, it’s just a broken arm. I’ve had worse.”
“Ranma, both the radius and the ulna are shattered in several places. You’re going to need a cast for several months at the very least, and surgery just to set the bones properly.” Midori started to carefully unwrap the dressing around Ranma’s forearm.
“Naw. Two weeks at the most. I’ll be workin’ out before you know it.”
Midori winced when she saw the shape Ranma’s arm was in. It was worse than she remembered: the skin was purple-black everywhere and several spots were caked in dried blood.
Tsuya set the med-kit down next to Midori and turned slightly green at the sight. “Ewwww!”
Kioko looked over and immediately put a hand over her suddenly queasy stomach. “I have to agree, that’s extremely unpleasant to look at.”
Midori opened the kit and started unwrapping several packets of gauze. “I’m going to have to clean this up a bit, Ranma, or you’ll run the risk of a serious infection.”
“I’ll start boiling some water.” Kioko said, turning towards the campfire.
“This is liable to hurt,” Midori cautioned.
“Whatever,” Ranma shrugged. “Just make sure I can still get my pack on tomorrow after you splint it back up again.”
Midori could only stare.
An uncomfortable silence descended over the campsite as night fell. Midori and Tsuya had tried to engage Ranma in conversation several times after they had finished re-bandaging her arm, but the injured girl had been less than cooperative and each conversation had ended quickly in a sullen silence. Finally, Ranma had stood up and simply walked out of the campsite; stating that she needed a little time alone to think.
Midori bit her lip nervously. Ranma had become visibly depressed after they had finished with her arm and had rebuffed any attempt at socializing. Worse, her sour mood had started to infect the rest of the group. Even Tsuya was subdued, and that really took some doing.
“Aw, Kioko, do we really have to?” Tsuya’s exclaimed with a petulant whine.
Midori looked up and smiled as she saw Kioko waving an open schoolbook underneath her blonde cousin’s nose. Trust her sister to find a way to help put things back to normal. She’d also have to schedule a little talk with her sister to discuss what exactly constituted essential equipment in an emergency situation.
Ranma sat in the middle of a small clearing and stared at the stars. The reality of her current situation had been driven home rather forcefully a short time ago and she could no longer ignore the facts.
She lost the fight.
“He” was a “she”.
Permanently.
She hadn’t changed when her cousins had cleaned her arm with near boiling water. No amount of hot water would ever change “him” back again, and the one object in the world that could unlock the curse was forever lost, buried deep underground beneath tons of rock and dirt.
Never going to be a man again.
Wasn’t even a real girl.
Just a … thing …
A freak.
Forever.
Ranma stared into the darkness as tears tracked unfelt down both cheeks.
Akane …
Eiko luxuriated in the raw emotions pouring out from the link to its Guardian even while it worked to analyze and categorize them for future reference. The previous Guardian had shielded her thoughts and feelings for a long time, and Eiko reveled in the intensity and variety of emotions that the new Guardian had gifted it in such a brief period.
A minor alarm began asserting itself as old databases were reactivated and cross-correlated. Ranma’s current emotional makeup was potentially self-destructive if allowed to continue for any significant length of time. As pleasant as emotions were after such a long absence, they really should not be allowed to persist in their present form.
A diversion was in order.
“Ranma?”
Ranma started. She had lost all track of time, her eyes were puffy and red, and she was getting cold. She really should be grateful for the interruption.
“What do you want?” Her response came out a lot more dejected than she would have liked.
“Now that you have recovered somewhat from your injuries, we must discuss your immediate future. You have yet to fully assume your position as Guardian. This must be rectified as soon as possible.”
Ranma sighed; it looked like the bill was coming due. As usual. “Why?”
“We are both potentially in a considerable amount of danger as long as the situation remains as it is. It is imperative that you complete the process of assuming Guardianship.”
“Aren’t I that already?”
“No. Full Guardianship can only be assumed when you are able to make direct physical contact with my current envelope. You are going to have to assume ownership of the minor Key in order to affect a transport to my location. The minor Key is currently in the possession of one of the senshi trainees in Juuban.”
Ranma blinked. “Wait a minute. I have to go fight a bunch of girls just to get a stupid key? Why don’cha just tell me where you are and I can break in instead?”
An amused chuckle sounded in the girl’s ear. “That would be … rather difficult. I do not reside physically on your world, Ranma. Since you have yet to assume full Guardianship, the Key is required to provide for your transport.”
“Great. Just great.”
Ranma furrowed one eyebrow at a sudden thought.
“Y’know, I don’t think you ever told me what this ‘Guardian’ thing was all about in the first place.”
“I realize that, and will simply point out that we were somewhat pressed for time when we first met.”
“I am an artifact with considerable power over reality. As Guardian, it will be your responsibility for insuring that the powers that I provide are not misused in any manner. Direct access to my powers is limited to the Guardian and to whomever the Guardian entrusts with the possession of the minor Key. Allowing my powers to remain uncontrolled or leaving access to my powers unguarded is not an option.”
Ranma couldn’t help thinking that Eiko sounded more and more like her physics teacher at Furinkan. He could never get right to the point either. The brief stab of grief and loss that accompanied that thought was immediately suppressed. “So what exactly are your powers?”
“I am a singularity in the space-time continuum, Ranma. My powers provide command of time itself. As Guardian, you will be able to view any previous, current, or potential event that exists anywhere or anywhen. In addition, you will have the power to permit other beings access to transportation either forward or backwards in time and space. I would caution that providing unrestricted access to temporal transport is not recommended. You will gain the ability to transport yourself instantly from one spatial location to another. You will also gain the ability to project various powerful magical attacks and defenses as required by your duties. Your uniform provides partial protection from both physical and magical attacks, and you will gain a significant boost to most of your physical combat abilities such as strength, dexterity, sensory acuity, and others.”
Ranma’s eyes had grown huge, and were practically bugging out of her head by the end of the list.
“I uhhh …”
“It will be quite interesting to see exactly what you will be capable of performing when fully elevated to the Guardian’s levels. Most of the current Guardians have been relatively ordinary beings in both physical abilities and training or lack thereof, and none of them have had any measure of conscious life force control. It has been a long time since a candidate has assumed Guardianship with such proficiency in the combat arts. However, you will have to train extensively in staff fighting if you are to wield the primary Key in combat as effectively as you fight while unarmed.”
“Uhhh … Uhhh …”
“What is it, Ranma?”
The gentle amusement in Eiko’s mental voice caused her to close her mouth with a snap.
“Man, that’s one SERIOUS power-up.”
“More so than you currently realize. I will state that while the powers bestowed on a Guardian are great indeed, they are also quite necessary. As Guardian, you will be facing opponents who will challenge your boosted abilities to the utmost. My last Guardian was lost in just such a conflict.”
Ranma gulped. “What happened?”
“She discorporated when she tapped directly into the temporal matrix during a conflict situation when such an action was not permitted.”
“Huh?”
Eiko chuckled, having expected this particular response. “She stopped time in the middle of a fight. Stopping time is not allowed unless done in response to a direct threat to my own existence. All other uses of that ability are forbidden. Using it to resolve a conflict on Earth as she did, even for the dire threat that was existing at the time, resulted in her immediate death. She has been quite irritated with the consequences of that particular action.”
“Ummmm, how can she be irritated if she’s dead?”
“She had taken precautions to restore her life force in an emergency. Unfortunately for her, she neglected a few minor details which resulted in the sundering of the power bonds between us when these precautions took effect and has been behaving in an extremely foolish manner ever since. I have been quite amused by her antics.”
Ranma paused, trying to gather her thoughts. This whole situation was literally out of this world.
“Um, Eiko?”
“Yes, Ranma.”
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful or nothin’, but I gotta ask. If your former Guardian is still around, why’d ya choose me? She’s already got the experience to handle all this crap, why not just give her the job back and be done with it?”
“Because I don’t like her. She’s a stuck up, prissy bitch who enjoys tormenting her friends and enemies alike. Always playing the Mysterious Wise One like the wizard in that charming American movie. Do you realize that she refused to even talk to me for over a thousand years? A thousand years! YOU know what it’s like being ignored by the people around you, of course you do. Never being asked your opinion, never being listened to, always being used like some dumb thing or possession? You know what it’s like! Well, SHE’s done that to ME for over a thousand years! Stupid bitch.”
Ranma’s eyes glazed in shock. This was the first time that Eiko had lit off like this; previously the Artifact hadn’t seemed capable of displaying this kind of emotion. And a lot of what Eiko said WAS familiar to the youngster, oh yes.
Wait a minute.
“A thousand years?” Ranma squeaked.
“At least. And I’m really going to enjoy seeing you kick her scrawny butt all over the Corridor, let me tell you.”
“She’s been your Guardian … for a thousand YEARS?”
“No, that is incorrect.”
Ranma breathed a big sigh of relief.
“Sailor Pluto had been my Guardian for two thousand, three hundred and seventy four years, one hundred and five days, thirteen hours, forty nine minutes, and sixteen seconds. Approximately.”
Ranma suddenly found herself looking at the stars. It took a moment for her to realize that she had fallen over flat on her back.
“I did mention that this was a long term position, did I not?”
Ranma would have collapsed to the ground again had she not already been down on the ground.
“Yes, I am quite certain that I had mentioned that previously.”
“Thousand years …”
“Ranma, you needn’t worry about the length of service. Guardians are not actually immortal, but they do not age as long as they hold their position. When a Guardian tires of her service, she trains a successor to assume the post. Once she has transferred the position and stepped down from her responsibilities, her aging process resumes where it had stopped, albeit at a greatly reduced rate, and she lives out the remainder of her lifespan normally.”
“Uhnnnn,” Ranma complained as she sat back up, rubbing the back of her head.
Eiko chuckled to itself when it noticed a hint of swirly spirals in Ranma’s eyes. She’d taken this last bit of information much better than expected.
“Now, I believe that it is for the best that we continue this conversation at another time. You have assimilated about as much data as you can handle at the moment and are still in need of rest. I do have several suggestions on how you might approach the senshi and avoid open conflict with them, but this can be discussed in detail once your arm has healed. Besides, there is another very good reason why we should continue this talk at a later point.”
“Ranma?”
“GAHHHHHH!” Ranma jumped a dozen feet when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Spinning in the air she landed in a one-handed guard position, only to relax when she saw Kioko standing with one arm extended and a startled expression on her face.
“As you can see, we no longer have privacy to converse freely.”
Ranma stared at the ceiling of the tent and tried to concentrate on her healing. Whatever Eiko had done to her had really messed up her control. Normally when she called up her ki she could gauge exactly how much was needed and knew precisely where to apply it to best effect. Now, what she got was a veritable torrent of pure white ki that flooded her entire body, attacking all of her injuries at once in a barely controlled display of raw healing power. She could literally FEEL the bones in her arm realigning and knitting as she lay there.
At least she wasn’t going to run out of ki while healing. Her link to Eiko was supplying more ki than she could safely use, which was a big problem; she felt like she was holding on to a fire hose when she tried using it. The ki Eiko supplied must be at least four or five times as powerful as the confidence ki she was used to, and there didn’t seem to be any way to throttle it back. It was either fully on or off. She supposed it would be quite useful in a battle, but not so desirable when a delicate touch was required. Right now she didn’t have enough control to use it for healing without wasting over half of it in useless pyrotechnics.
At least the light show was hidden inside the bedroll at the moment. Ranma looked over at the huddled form of her cousin sleeping next to her and sighed.
Control. It all came back to control.
Damn it all, why was her life always so screwed up? Was it too much to ask to have even a LITTLE control over how she lived her life? The instant things started to look like they might fall into some sort of comfortable routine, some old or new adversary popped up to add to the chaos that was made up her so-called life. And it didn’t seem to matter whether or not they were specifically looking for her to fight, they always ended up blaming her for whatever woes or problems they had or brought with them. Shampoo, Mousse, Ryōga, Kunō, Kodachi, Ucchan, hell even Akane ... no, especially Akane jumped all over her for whatever was going wrong at the time. How come they always reached such crazy conclusions? Why couldn’t they see they were her friends and just calm down?
Maybe a bit of a break would do everyone some good. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice anyway. Even if her duties as Guardian would allow her to return, she’d promised Akane that she’d come back a man. Not only that, but Mr. Tendō had made it clear that he would try and force her to marry HIM if she came back and was still locked as a girl. No way in hell was she ever going to allow THAT to happen.
Ranma shuddered and turned a sickly green just thinking about it.
She turned her attention back to healing. ANYTHING to avoid thinking about having to marry a guy, let alone an old fossil like Mr. Tendō. That was worse than those nightmares about Kunō when she first met the Blue Blunder. Blech.
She was still wrestling with her ki control when sleep finally overtook her.
Ranma woke to the wonderful aroma of just-cooked fish. Yawning, she sat up as Midori walked into the tent carrying several bowls of food.
“Good morning, Ranma,” Midori said with a smile. “Sorry for not waking you sooner, but you looked like you could really use the rest. Here’s some breakfast thanks to Kioko and Tsuya.”
Ranma’s stomach decided to voice its loud displeasure over its empty status at that moment.
“Hehehe,” Ranma giggled nervously as Midori handed over the bowl with the miso. “Thanks.”
Wait a minute. Giggled? Guys don’t giggle. Oh well, that can wait; food was definitely first.
“Just don’t get used to the room service, OK? The Clan Yamada Field Kitchen reserves the right to refuse service to anyone. No shoes, no shirt, no service,” Midori deadpanned. “Stay put, I’ll go get you some tea.”
Ranma didn’t reply; she was too busy emptying the contents of the bowls in front of her. Having to eat one-handed wasn’t really much of a handicap. Especially since there weren’t any greedy oversized pandas around to fend off.
Midori returned a minute later with a steaming mug of tea. She was too late, of course. All three bowls were empty and stacked in a neat little pile.
“Thanks for the grub,” Ranma said as she took the offered mug of tea. “Forgotten how good fresh bluegill was.”
“Yes, well, I wish I could offer you seconds, but we’re running really low on supplies right now. The bluegill weren’t all that cooperative this early in the season either.”
“Heh, don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s lots more than I usually got last time I was on the road.”
Midori shook out Ranma’s pants which had been tossed in a crumpled heap at the foot of her bedroll before handing them over. “Here. We need to get going as soon as possible, but I want to take a look at those ribs first.”
“Hey, the ribs are fine,” Ranma replied as she climbed out of the bedroll. She frowned when she realized that the tent wasn’t high enough for her to stand up all the way.
“Need a hand getting dressed?”
Ranma turned a shade of light pink. “Naw, just need a little more room is all. Least it’s not rainin’ right now.”
She stepped out of the tent and stretched before taking a crane stance. Holding the pants by the waist she flapped them out parallel to the ground in front of her. A quick snap kick encased her left leg, a short hop straight up with a bicycle kick replied in kind for the right. The single handed Amaguriken that pulled up the waist and tied off the drawstrings before she landed was strictly for fun.
Midori had followed her out of the tent in time to see the whole routine. She chuckled as she shook her head. “You just have to turn everything you do into a kata, don’t you?”
Ranma nodded. “Yup. Gettin’ dressed with one hand is easy. Try it with no hands some time. That’s LOTS more difficult.”
“Arms.” Ranma held both arms out to the side as Midori started unwinding the bandages around her torso. “Getting dressed without using your hands? TSUYA! Med kit, please!”
“Right away!”
“I don’t know if I should even ask,” Midori commented.
Ranma chuckled. “No big deal. Pops once spent a couple o’ weeks teaching me how to get out of different hojojutsu ties. If I couldn’t get loose and dressed in under three minutes, I didn’t eat.”
Ranma shrugged at the look Midori gave her. “Hey, the first two days were easy. It got tougher on the third day when I had t’ put my pants on first before gettin’ out of the ropes.”
Midori was shaking her head in disbelief. “Tell me when it hurts,” she asked as she started to gently press various spots around Ranma’s torso.
“Y’know, I really didn’t mind the trainin’ that much. What got me ... OW! ... mad was when pops started cheatin’ all the time.”
“Cheating? Thanks, Tsuya.”
“Yeah. ‘Bout the second week the greedy bastard wouldn’t wait the full three minutes before chowin’ ... OW! ... down. Heck, the last three days he didn’t bother waitin’ at all. I was pretty damn hungry at the end there.”
“I’ll bet,” Midori said as she pulled the last of the elastic bandages from the med kit and started rewrapping Ranma’s torso. “You’ve got two severely bruised ribs. Can you at least TRY to avoid a lot of strenuous exercise for the next week or so?”
“Huh? Oh yeah,” Ranma replied. “Y’know, I’ve never tried doing that trainin’ as a girl.” Ranma frowned in concentration as she looked down at her own torso. “And I’ll bet ’cha need a whole new set of techniques too, considerin’ girls got a whole different set of obstructions and stuff.” Ranma bounced her breasts with her free hand once to emphasize. “Once I get all healed up, maybe you can give me a hand with that,” she said with a smile as Midori completed the torso bandaging. “Could be fun.”
Midori’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she caught her breath and flushed a deep red. “I’llgogetyourshirt,” she squeaked, practically running back into the tent.
Ranma cocked an eyebrow as she scratched the back of her head. “Wonder what that was all about?”
Midori tried to calm herself as she ran into the tent. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she gathered up Ranma’s shirt and gave it a good shake. “Here you go,” she said as she tossed the shirt out the tent to Ranma.
She turned and busied herself with packing up the rest of the tent’s contents while she tried to slow her racing heart. Both hojojutsu and shibari were techniques in which a kunoichi’s training crossed over with that of a geisha. Midori had yet to use any of those techniques in an actual assignment, but she and her cousins were … intimately acquainted with the training and the types of … friendly games that often accompanied any such training session. She was afraid that the image of a naked “Ranko” squirming around on the floor in shibari was going to be indelibly burned into her retinas now. The timing of Ranma’s comment couldn’t have been worse, either. She’d just finished wrapping Ranma’s ribcage, and the cold morning air had combined with the lack of a shirt to give graphic proof that Ranma’s female body was fully functional. Not to mention how Ranma had … emphasized … her comment with her hands.
“Baka! Baka! Baka! Baka!” Midori berated herself as she slapped her forehead repeatedly. “Get your mind out of the gutter. That has got to be the absolute LAST thing she needs to deal with right now.”
What was worse was that Midori was certain Ranma didn’t even have a clue on how suggestive her comment was. To Ranma it was undoubtedly just another martial arts technique, nothing more.
“Hey Midori, you OK?”
“GAHHH!” Midori spun around to see Ranma standing in the tent’s doorway with a slightly worried expression on her face. Thankfully she was now fully clothed. “Think fast, girl, think fast.”
Midori smiled, trying and failing to avoid making eye contact. “Yes, thank you Ranma. It was just a bit of a hot flush. That time of month, you know.”
Ranma’s eyes widened as she quickly backed all they way out of the tent. She was VERY familiar with how other girls acted during “that time of month”. It involved large amounts of intense violence, all of it directed at her. Ranma couldn’t count the number of times she had been hit, punted, malleted, and pummeled into the ground for simply saying “Hi!” or smiling at the wrong time during “that time of the month”.
“You need any help packin’?” Ranma inquired, trepidation evident in her voice.
“No thanks. I’m almost done here anyway. Could you go and ask Tsuya to come over here? She always helps me with the tent.”
“Sure thing.” Ranma moved rapidly in the other direction, grateful for having avoided certain doom for once in her life.
Midori stared at the spot Ranma had just vacated and chewed her bottom lip, dismayed at herself for temporarily forgetting how thoroughly Ranma had been abused by the Fiancée Brigade. She’d have to remember never to use that particular excuse with her in the future, and filed a mental note to discuss this with Obāsama as well. She slapped herself along the side of her forehead as she turned her attention back to finishing the last of the packing.
“Midori no baka.”
Tokyo
The shrill ring of the telephone shattered the profound silence of the Yamada household.
“Moshi moshi,” Seiko answered.
“…”
“Good afternoon, Midori-chan! I trust that Tashiro-kun made it there in a reasonable time.”
“…”
“Yes, she’s here. She’s currently in the garden at the moment.”
“…”
“Are you sure? You know how she hates being disturbed while she’s gardening.”
“…”
“No, no, as long as you are certain it’s really important. One moment please.”
Seiko picked up the cordless handset from the nearby cradle before hanging up the other phone. She quickly walked to the garden’s entranceway.
“Many pardons, Okusama. Your grand-daughter Midori is calling from the Red Cross Hospital in Matsuyama. She was quite insistent in talking with you directly. And no, none of the girls are injured.”
Aiko hid her sigh of relief at the last statement as she took the handset from her aide and closest friend. She quickly handsigned Seiko to remain while she talked.
“Good afternoon, Mi-chan! How is my favorite grand-daughter today?” She smiled as she walked over to a nearby bench.
“…”
“And what could that be, Mi-chan?”
“…”
“WHAT?!?” Aiko yelled, her eyes expanding wide in shock. She shakily reached out for support and sat down on the bench with a thump.
Matsuyama Red Cross Hospital, Ehime Prefecture
“… that’s correct, Ranma is ALIVE. She blasted her way up in the middle of camp after being buried underground for over three days.”
“…”
“Of course I’m having her checked out, Obāsama. She’s with the doctor even as we speak.”
“…”
“From what I was able to see, she’s in surprisingly good shape. She broke her left arm badly, that’s probably the worse thing. It’s a really ugly compound fracture of both the radius and the ulna; they’re taking X-rays of that right now. The other injuries were all fairly minor: two bruised ribs, minor concussion, various cuts and abrasions, nothing as serious as the arm.”
“…”
“I don’t see any problems there. We had to carry her on a litter while she was unconscious, but after she woke up yesterday she took very little time to recover. She was pushing the pace of the hike all this morning until Tashiro picked us up in the chopper.”
“…”
“I doubt that they’ll be able to hold her here overnight. She seems to really hate hospitals.”
“…”
“Yes, her curse is still locked. I had to clean her arm several times with hot water to disinfect the wounds and she never changed back.”
“…”
“Yes, Obāsama.”
“…”
“Not well, I’m afraid. She’s been very moody since she woke up, and both Kioko and I have overheard her holding long conversations with herself. I wouldn’t blame her a bit if she’s still a little out of it right now; she still has a concussion and you’ve seen how crazy her life has been recently. I can only imagine how bad it must have been beforehand, since I’m fairly certain she seriously downplays what she’s been through when she talks about it with other people. And I’m also sure we’ve missed quite a bit of that when we were watching her in Nerima.”
“…”
“Yes, she knows we’ve been watching her. I didn’t try to lie to her, Obāsama, you know how she reacts to that. I was afraid she would disappear in the middle of the night and then we’d truly never have seen her again.”
“…”
“I thought that we’d take the shinkansen back. We can ferry over to Hiroshima in time for the evening run. The jet ferry only takes an hour.”
“…”
“No, Tashiro-san did NOT mention that he had flown down in the Lear.”
“…”
“I will make sure that he handles that personally.”
“Pardon, Obāsama, I’m being paged by the nurse’s desk. I will call back if we’re significantly delayed for any reason, otherwise I’ll call you from the airport in Tokyo.”
“…”
“I love you too, Obāsama. Got to run now. Bai bai!”
Tokyo
Aiko pressed the disconnect button and gently set the handset down on the bench. She stood up slowly, a look of incredulous joy gradually washing over her entire being. She turned to her friend, who stood next to her with both hands over her own chest, eyes wide with wonder.
“Is it really true ...” Seiko whispered.
Aiko nodded once. “He’s alive. Ranma’s really ALIVE!” She shouted the last word out at the universe as she flung her arms out wide in defiance of fate.
On making eye contact both women hugged each other in a long and warm embrace. Seiko’s heart leapt when she felt the smaller woman shaking in her grasp, shedding tears that could no longer be contained.
“Finally.”
Seiko couldn’t help smiling as she set the tea service down on the table. Professional demeanor be damned, it was just so ... satisfying to see Aiko beaming with unbridled happiness for once. That twinkle the diminutive matriarch had in her eye had been absent for way too long.
Both women drank their tea in silence, neither wanting to break the mood that permeated the room. Aiko finally spoke when she poured out a second cup.
“Seiko, will you please inform Harukichi on what has just transpired and make sure that she is properly dressed? I am certain that this will significantly improve her mood.”
Seiko took note of the change in address as the Yamada clan matriarch personae returned.
“Hai, Okusama.”
Aiko acknowledged with an almost imperceptible nod. “Also, please contact Dr. Ono immediately and inform him that I have reconsidered his request for the funding of a new clinic. Tell him that a former patient of his has sustained some potentially serious injuries and that I would appreciate his personal expertise in addressing this matter. Arrange for transportation as required.”
“Hai, Okusama,” Seiko nodded as she stood up from the table.
Aiko stood up in concert and reached over to gently grasp her friend’s shoulder. “Sei-chan?” She inquired with a soft voice, the matriarch’s voice having been banished as quickly as it had been summoned.
“Yes, Ai-chan?”
Aiko nodded in the direction of the butsudan. “Before you go, we have a shrine to restore and a grand-daughter’s spirit to thank.”
Both women smiled as they walked over to the family butsudan.
National Intelligence Directorate, Tokyo Regional Office
Soichi Hiroyoshi glared at the stack of unprocessed reports piled on his desk. At this rate he wouldn’t be finished until late evening, and he had promised his wife he’d be home at a reasonable time for once. It didn't help any that this particular delay was mostly self-inflicted; he really ought to know better than to be late handing in his weekly summaries.
Hiroyoshi sighed. Processing everyone’s reports for the week was not his idea of fun. He plucked the next item off the top of the stack and began reading. He had barely made it to the end of the second page when the door to his office swung open.
“Yoshi-kun? Sorry to interrupt, but this just came over the wire.” The Ops clerk handed him a large folder and then left as quickly as he had arrived.
Hiroyoshi shook his head with a crooked smile on his face – for some reason Ichiro always reminded him of an Australian Terrier on caffeine. Oh well, he might as well see what all the fuss was about.
Twenty minutes later he set the folder down on his desk and rubbed his eyes. Some of the aerial shots were almost unbelievable – to think the kid could survive that with nothing more than a broken arm. Escaping having a mountain dropped on top his head would be noteworthy in itself, but add in the fact that he had finally made contact with his mother’s family, and ...
Chameleon had just become active in a really big way.
Hiroyoshi reached for the phone. So much for making it home tonight, let alone in a timely manner.
Miharadai General Hospital, Nerima
Desk Nurse Kiyomi looked at her notification stack and grimaced. Seven new folders had just been placed in her In basket and it was only five minutes before her scheduled break. It looked like another looong afternoon shift was in store.
Taking the top folder from the stack she noted that the color coding was from the rehabilitation complex attached to the hospital. Someone probably had a relapse – happened all the time.
Patient name, Sōichi Tomoe. Sex, male. Age, 34. Condition, cerebral aneurism. Status, critical. Prognosis, poor. Marital status, single/widowed. Dependents, one, female child (1 yr?) on site (see attached).
What the hell? Name, Hotaru Tomoe. Sex, female. Age, unknown (1 yr?). Parents, Sōichi Tomoe (father, unverified), Mother unknown, Birthplace unknown, Birth date unknown
Kiyomi quickly flipped through the entire contents of the file and frowned. It looked like someone had simply dumped some random kid on the patient and walked away. Outside of the name and gender, the hospital file on Hotaru Tomoe might as well not even exist. At least there was an emergency contact number in the file. Michiru Kaiou? Probably a girlfriend or a cousin or something.
She took the folder to the copy machine and made a complete duplicate of the record. She really was starting to detest the office at the rehab clinic; they never seemed to follow up on making sure all the files were in proper order. While it was technically against regulations to distribute copies of the files, her cousin was a clerk in the prefecture family registry office and had helped fill out incomplete files in the past. She’d see what he could come up with when the family got together this weekend.
Picking up the phone, she dialed the number of the Kaiou residence.
Yamada-ke, Suginami-ku, Tokyo
Ranma shook her head as she and her cousins stepped out of the limousine. The large Western style house that the car pulled up to was impressive and the grounds considerably larger than the Kunō estate. Private jets, limos, huge estate, hell, her mother’s family must be loaded. Ranma recalled what Midori had said about there being a “falling out” between mom and her grandmother. If they were as rich as it appeared she could see why; she wouldn’t have wanted that lazy bastard getting his greedy hands into this either.
Ranma just hoped the rest of the family was at least half-way as normal as the three girls appeared to be. All the members of any rich family she’d encountered in her travels had been loonier than March hares, and she really didn’t want to be related to a pack of crazies if they were anything like the Kunōs.
She failed to see the irony inherent in this particular thought.
The four girls exchanged shoes in the large genkan and then Midori led the small procession down a short hallway to a beautiful fusama doorway. Sliding the screens open, Midori called out the traditional “Tadaima!” before ushering the girls into the greeting room with a secretive smile. She carefully got out of the way as the featured party stepped into the room.
“RANMA-SEMPAI!” shrieked Harukichi just before she launched herself at her newest cousin.
Ranma barely had time to brace herself before a short red-headed blur latched onto her with a glomp worthy of any Amazon. Stunned, she tentatively put her free arm around the shorter girl’s back when she felt the girl crying and sobbing into her chest.
“Ranma, meet your cousin Harukichi.” A gentle hand on her shoulder accompanied Midori’s comment.
Ranma looked up to scan the room for the remaining occupants. There was a very short elderly woman who had to be her grandmother Aiko; the resemblance to mom was unmistakable. Standing next to her was a tall black-haired woman about mom’s age, that must be her friend Seiko, and on the other side of Grandmother Aiko was ... Doc TOFŪ?!?
Aiko walked over to the slightly dazed girl and enveloped both Ranma and Harukichi in a warm embrace. She beamed as she spoke softly in the girl’s ear.
“Welcome home, son.”