Daniel Jess Gibson
2nd March 2005, 05:10 AM
[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 42 -
The Price That Life Exacts
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these
stories.
C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments@worldnet.att.net
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(these are the original versions)
A Wolf In The Fold, Rain On Ripe Corn
It had been a long, tiring day. Jeff trudged back from the showers.
He'd waited until there was no one else likely to use them, then he'd
cleaned them all and used one, doing a cursory clean up after. Today,
he'd gotten some _extremely_ unfriendly looks, interesting considering the
universal lack of faces among the natives. The postures were telling, he
was unwelcome here. But the girls were so fascinated by Ranma, his gaijin
friend was most welcome. The boys weren't so forgiving. He'd hoped he
didn't get jumped in the showers, anywhere except Nerima he would have
been confident of his ability to defend himself. He had many tricks to
use, but most crippled or killed.
The quietness of the dormitories worried him as he headed back. His
cane was a sufficient weapon, but if things were quiet, it could mean
anything. Typically it meant the sheep had been cowed into silence, or
they wanted to hear what happened. 'Kuno's Samurai' had ambushed him
repeatedly in the earlier dream, none of those worthies had gotten out of
those fights unmarked. Kendo was not an art for the street. They didn't
even appreciate the red shirts he kept sending them. Some people just
don't get cultural references, he thought as he walked into the ambush.
He had his defenses up before the hands grabbed him and slammed him
against the wall. The fist in the gut encountered the AT field he had
under his suit coat. He still acted as if the blow had its desired effect,
despite the man's broken knuckles.
Nine boys, the most hostile, were packed in the small room he shared
with Ranma, who was on the cot, sound asleep.
"Well you can watch, and if you're nice, we'll be nice to you," the
leader said as he unbuckled his belt.
Well, I was wondering where I was going to get some extra spending
money in a hurry, Jeff thought as he prepared.
----------------------------------------
Now she was transiting orange. Asuka had quit complaining as she
crossed the midpoint of red, so assigned because the darkness behind and
the orange ahead were equally noticeable.
The march was boring beyond belief. She _did_ wish she had some
shoes. She could imagine the blisters she'd get on this march. She
wondered if all the colors of the spectrum would be represented. She also
wondered what the purpose was. There was no day or night, so she slept
when she was tired and marched when she was not. If it was isolation, it
would take such a long time until it would have a real effect. Certainly
longer than the time it would take to get through the entire spectrum.
She stared at the color in the distance and kept walking.
----------------------------------------
Ranma was instantly awake. He didn't know how. He also didn't know
why he was so frightened, or why he wanted to slap that silly grin off
Raccoon's face.
"Ha, ha," the irritating voice attached to the grin said, "I knew
that would work."
"What did you do?" Ranma felt _awful_, he'd never drunk plum tea,
green tea with pickled plums, nor was he ever going to again. It tasted
awful at the time, now it was worse. But how many cups how fast told you
how tough you were, and he'd beaten all the others.
"You don't drink well," Raccoon told him, handed him a mug of _plain_
green tea.
Ranma drank it, he drank it all, he would have drunk a glass of L.C.L.
to get the funny taste out of his mouth.
"What did you say to me?" Ranma asked.
"It isn't what I said, but whose voice I used," Raccoon told him.
Ranma remembered the lessons in mimicry Raccoon had given Ranko, it seemed
like years ago.
"Oh, Asuka's . . . " Ranma fitted the pieces together. " 'Oh Ranma!
We're due only a few weeks apart, one girl and one boy,'" Ranma said what
Raccoon had, he shuddered at the idea of getting Asuka pregnant, and more
at Asuka getting _him_ pregnant. Ranma was surprised he hadn't
surrendered to the 'other' and wasn't hanging from the ceiling yowling his
terrified head off. "You're a rotten . . . "
"Yes?"
"I wish you felt like I do!" Ranma invoked a stronger curse.
"Congratulations, now you're 'Misa-chan'."
"What?!"
"You drank yourself into unconsciousness," Raccoon told him.
"It was only tea!" Ranma flashed to anger. "When I get my hands on-"
"I convinced them to leave," Raccoon told him, "Once they understood,
they were . . . very cooperative, and very apologetic."
"You . . . you didn't . . . " he switched to a whisper, "Kill them?"
"I dropped them off somewhere and pointed them away from Tokyo. I'm
not going to murder someone in the middle of Tokyo just because they
slipped you a mickey finn, a drugged drink. Good lesson, so you won't
turn out like Major K."
Ranma relaxed. "So, what, you blackmailed them? What did you
blackmail them out of?" Ranma knew he wouldn't let them off cheap.
"Oh, the usual: jewelry, spare cash, and a few things we'll need for
the moment."
Ranma focused on that Raccoon wasn't wearing his suit and tie, even
his ever-present fedora was gone, he looked more closely and realized
Raccoon wasn't wearing his usual boots either. "You sold your clothes
too?" The jeans jacket and slacks looked - alien, out of place - on
Raccoon.
"They're antiques," Raccoon explained, "Authentic from the war period,
we're going to need money if we're going to get an apartment of our own."
"We can stay here," Ranma said, "The manager said so."
"The amount of work you and I put in yesterday would pay for a decent
house. If we were professional plumbers, carpenters, electricians - "
"Steam fitters," Ranma concluded.
"Anyway, there can't be much more to fix around here, unless you
think we should rebuild this place from top to bottom."
Ranma seemed to be considering, he was wondering when the floor was
going to quit moving and whether his ears were really unscrewing from his
head.
"Ranma?"
"I'm - " He pushed past Raccoon and managed to get to the lavatory
before he threw up.
Once he'd finished, he looked up and saw Raccoon standing there with
a mug of water in his hands. "You knew this was going to happen."
"Considering all you drank, I wasn't expecting you to wake up, ever,"
Raccoon told him sternly.
There was no evidence of a follow up rebuke, which made Ranma feel
even worse. "The last thing I remember . . . " Ranma sighed, "I don't
remember much. Why does Misa-chan do this?"
"Because it dulls the pain, supposedly."
"There has to be a reason for the alcohol they gave me. You don't
think it was just a contest like they said?"
"No, they definitely had another end in mind," Raccoon said.
"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" Ranma asked.
"You are exactly right," Raccoon replied, his tone was gentler, "Get
moving. I saved you some breakfast. We still have to check on those gas
fittings in the kitchen and swap out the used propane cylinders."
"Ranma Saotome, marital artist and plumber," Ranma griped.
"And carpenter and electrician and steam fitter - "
"All right!" Ranma shouted at him, Raccoon's cheerfulness was getting
on Ranma's nerves.
"Why isn't Nab-chan helping us - wait - I've still got the bruises,
never mind," he said. He remembered her attempts to `help`, he was fairly
certain she wasn't failing miserably just to get out of working.
"Besides, she's out apartment hunting. I can't pass for Japanese and
you can't pass for an adult, she can do both."
Ranma grumbled a little, but grumbling wasn't going to get him
breakfast.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki looked at the place, small was the first word that came to
mind. Expensive was the second. But it was far cheaper to stay in Nerima,
and this place was equipped with a kitchenette, a shower, and several easy
escape routes for Ranma. The last she hoped wouldn't be necessary. The
owner demanding six month's rent in advance had been outrageous, but she
had the cash and she'd been able to make sure none of it was a security
deposit. She was terribly glad he hadn't asked her if she was a martial
artist or even if she was living alone.
Maybe he thinks I'm a runaway and is trying to gouge me, then knock
me out and sell me to the North Koreans, she thought, then she considered
the welcoming party that would be waiting for anyone who tried that.
Raccoon had dealt with the group that slipped Ranma a 'mickey finn', she
wondered how many elephant doses he downed before they . . . she shuddered
at that. She knew such groups existed, that rape was not just something
done to women by men. But there was a huge difference between what was
known intellectually, and what was known through experience. Still I am
glad Raccoon had 'intercepted and dissuaded them', she thought. She'd
been shocked he'd left them alive, only that he'd 'escorted them out of
the vicinity.' It had taken additional threats given, promises extracted
and pleadings done by her to not reveal anything to Ranma, that where he
'dumped them off' was twenty feet above the ocean, halfway between Tokyo
and the Bonin Islands. Giving them a chance, however slight, to be
rescued. And a long, lingering death if they weren't. And a story no one
would believe if they were.
She'd already sold many of their possessions, pawned a few more and
with the cash Raccoon had given her, she could at least make a dent in the
unfurnished apartment. She had no idea what they were going to do when
the money ran out. Betting on illegal fights came to mind, and Ranma
would probably always win, and Raccoon could protect her and their
winnings.
But there has to be a less sordid way, she thought, Cheesecake and
blackmail are one thing, this is straight gangster stuff.
She knew she and Raccoon could convince Ranma, she found it odd she
really didn't want to. She wondered if she were going soft, or if her
long dormant conscience had woken up and was going to be trouble.
----------------------------------------
Thirsty, Asuka thought as she trudged through yellow. The blisters
on her feet weren't helping, the entire ordeal was clearly one of
endurance, without clothing, shelter, tools or the means to make any of
them. The last time she'd marched this far had been in dreams. But there
was no end in sight. Now the time was passing without any noticeable
benefit.
Maybe Horseface would see this as useful, she thought,But I don't.
----------------------------------------
The Winter Is Past, The Rain Over And Gone
"Come on you two," Ranko told Nab-chan and Raccoon, "We're all going
to be fully clothed and besides it's freezing. We only have a couple of
decent blankets."
And with your ki as messed up as it is, Ranko didn't say, A chill
would kill both of you. The temporary cure had failed. Ranma had
suggested the repair and a way to stay warm, but that would require a good
deal of physical intimacy over a long time. Ranma had suggested sleeping
with them, then ran so deep into his mind Ranko couldn't do anything.
Ranko also didn't want it to sound too clinical, to make it sound like an
excuse or a trick. I'll tell them after they agree, Ranko told herself.
Nab-chan was wearing her usual shirt and slacks flannel pajamas, Ranko
tried not to react to how Nab-chan was reacting to the cold. Raccoon in a
similar shirt and pants-style pajamas.
The fact that Nab-chan seemed to start shuddering and tearing up for
no apparent reason and immediately sought out a hug and reassurance from
Raccoon had _absolutely_ nothing to do with it. After all, it made
complete sense that Ran_ma_ would be jealous of Raccoon, but it was
_absolutely_ ridiculous that Ran_ko_ would be jealous of Nab-chan.
Terrific, Ranko thought, Miss 'Grab-Anything' is nervous that I might
do that to her. Raccoon didn't seem to be having the same reaction. The
truth was Ranma had watched Raccoon patching the electrics, repairing and
running steam lines, water lines, gas lines; all the while thoroughly
explaining it to Ranma or Ranko, whoever was less likely to change if bad
things happened. The concept of flowing water Ranma grasped easily, that
electrics acted much the same way was a surprise. The differences of gas
and steam to water was a real eye opener. Ranma had drawn out various
ways of plumbing, diverting and controlling water flow, had received
warnings about steam lines and electrical lines.
She couldn't heal their frazzled and tangled ki flaws, but if ki did
flow like water or electricity, then she could establish the proper
channels and levies and hydraulic jumps to get it flowing in ways that
wouldn't be so life-threatening. If she could manage that, she could
leave the rest to natural processes.
She was glad Raccoon took Nab-chan's hand and led her to the blankets
and sleeping bags they'd gotten from the others at the youth hostel. The
whole collection would insulate them from the cold floor, and the blankets
would go over the top. The pair knelt on the bedding, keeping a very
small distance from each other. That was fine with Ranko, she slid in
between them, facing Nab-chan, and pulled them down to lie alongside her.
Both were more nervous than if they were going into a fight. Ranko gently
stroked Nab-chan's hair, then her cheeks. This frightened, then relaxed
Nab-chan. It also gave Ranko the idea of how to untangle the knot that
would prevent Nab-chan from sleeping properly. It would have the side
effect of essentially sedating her for a few hours, but Ranko could
protect them.
"I won't hurt you, or take advantage of you," she told Nab-chan, it
galled her to have to tell Nab-chan something she of all people should
_know_, but Ranko remembered Asuka's warning about perceptions and reality.
She knew that neither Nab-chan nor Raccoon would try anything, it was the
only thing that was keeping her from jumping out of her skin and following
Ranma into the darkness. Ranko kissed the tip of Nab-chan's nose, very
carefully. "Unlike a certain someone I could mention."
That brought Nab-chan back to herself.
"I detected a ki imbalance in you and Raccoon, that's why you were in
such a bad way when you arrived. I thought I fixed it, I didn't, now
after two days watching the engineer fix that whole sick building, I think
I can fix it properly."
Nab-chan gulped, "You mean . . . will it hurt?"
"No, but it will make you real sleepy."
"Maybe we could ask . . . " She shook her head. "No, forget it,
terrible - dangerous idea."
"What?" Ranko asked.
"There are other ki masters," Raccoon supplied, "All of them would
turn us over to the Nerimaniacs immediately. They'd never be an end to it.
Better to stay anonymous. Tomorrow, I'll set up some wards and fixed
defense spells to keep them from finding us. Unless you want me to kill
them all instead."
"_NO_!_" Ranko insisted, there wasn't enough space to turn and face
him, "Absolutely not. They're an irritant, and human, not the things we
fight. I don't want people murdered, just to make my life easier, even if
they _are_ just shadows."
"As you wish," he said, leaned close, his breath tickling her neck,
"Don't worry, there are ways of dealing with them. Not permanent, but
long term. Ways that will make them _loooong_ for the sweet release of
death."
Raccoon running an icy finger down her spine didn't help Ranko's composure
at all. "But I won't allow that either." He gave an evil laugh, until
that point Ranko was nervous, then she relaxed. If Raccoon was joking
about it, then he wasn't likely to commit mayhem.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki was also relieved. Even if these weren't really her family
and old victims, she wasn't happy about the slaughter that would result if
Raccoon decided they were a threat to Ranma's and her, health and safety.
Pilots fought for the safety of Raccoon, Asuka, Shinji and Rei's entire
world. She'd felt the wrongness, the foul, festering malignancy of their
enemy first hand. These people were self-centered and thoughtless,
exactly like their enemy, but without their global reach. The deaths of a
few in another world to protect to protect a third of the entire supply
wouldn't even give any of them pause. A few lives for billions. She
couldn't really fault their thinking, most people would make the same
choice. Few, besides Rei and Raccoon would make it so ruthlessly and
carry it out in so remorselessly thoroughly a manner. She'd watched the
`invincible` Happosai's fate. Her father and Genma were terrified of the
old letch. Raccoon had dispatched him in less than a minute. She didn't
know how, she didn't really _care_ but it wasn't something she wanted
loosed on her once-sisters and used-to-be father. She shuddered at that,
then at Ranko running her hands over her arms. She could feel a tingling,
even though the material of her pajamas, which did nothing for her
composure, or the fear of what would happen if the fiance(e) brigade, or
worse, the two fathers, came crashing in. Ranma in bed with Nabiki and
another man. They'd have her in front of a minister so fast, drugged and
dragged, if necessary. _Later_, they'd remember he was eta and she'd
disowned them, old habits died hard. She could imagine what they'd do to
the gaijin, she could also imagine the retaliation. Ranma's promise
didn't touch Raccoon defending his own life. The Wrecking Crew had never
faced a real soldier. They talked about death, war and vengeance. But
for all they really understood, they might as well have been talking about
walking on the moon in ballet tutu and tights.
No, not vengeance, dispatch, she thought again about handling that . .
... thing and how she wanted to either kill it, or run away screaming. She
pulled herself away from those memories before she burst into tears again,
and realized she'd grabbed Ranma in a Shampoo-style hug.
"Nab-chan, you 'kay?" came the querulous voice from between her
breasts. Nabiki could feel Ranma's breathing and how rigid with fear the
girl was. "You may touch me wherever you feel is medically necessary,"
she assured Ranma.
"That's nice, but I can't breathe."
"Oh Ranma, I offer you raptures of the flesh undreamt of and you
trouble me with breathing."
"Who let Kuno in here?" Raccoon asked.
Nabiki flinched at the comparison and swiftly released Ranma. "Make
sure you take his temperature. I have a rectal thermometer around here
somewhere."
"What does 'rectal' mean?" Ranma asked.
"It means she wants you to put it under my tongue," Raccoon supplied.
Even Nabiki winced at that thought.
"It should be a simple process," Ranma told her as he touched her
here and there with an expression that wouldn't have been out of place on
Ritsuko or Asuka. She was still nervous about being this close to Ranma
while in Nerima, and that the idiots might be out in force, searching for
him. She felt they should have been barring the doors, setting guards on
rotation, laying out some kind of battle plan.
Instead, she was staring into Ranma's pretty face all creased with
concentration, doing what she could barely understand. She impulsively
touched the other girl's face, and didn't distract her or get the usual
reaction she tried for. So she lay back and tried to relax. Maybe
Raccoon's sorcery would give them an undisturbed night's rest and the
`enemy` would storm their position at dawn tomorrow. Or the idiots were
still in disarray and couldn't launch an attack yet. After all, Ranma
would be at his usual haunts, right? But Ranma no longer knew his usual
haunts, and he had only Asuka's and Raccoon's stories about the
Nerimaniacs to go by, and even Nabiki didn't think Ranma would want to
tangle with the crazies that pair had described.
She felt her eyes closing. She missed her mother. She missed
Rit-chan too. She wondered if Rit-chan was proud of her for what she did.
She knew her mother had never told her she was proud of little Nabiki.
Only Kasumi who wanted to be mommy, and Akane who wanted to be daddy,
never Nabiki, who wanted to be Nabiki.
----------------------------------------
The city was rebuilt, and all the earth around it. People did their
jobs and still found their joy. He worked very hard at _do_ing as little
as possible while he encouraged as much as possible, letting others
discover their strengths and talents. He grudgingly accepted that this
was probably his father's intention, however artlessly he carried it out.
Rei came towards him, Shinji was nervous about the expression on her
face and that she was naked. He knew this was all a dream, like the one
he'd had months ago. But what they did here still mattered, and the
hunger and determination in Rei-chan's expression worried him. She
approached, walking enticingly, he'd never seen anything so beautiful
before. All the talk about Ritsuko this, Misato that, or Asuka the other,
none of them was as beautiful as Rei-chan was right now.
He was certain he was in no danger, but he knew something odd was
happening. She carefully gathering him in her arms, her soft flesh and
warm body made him uncomfortable, he knew what he wanted to do. He also
knew Asuka and his father would kill him if he did.
"Trust me," Rei-chan told him between kisses on his neck and throat.
He nodded.
Her teeth piercing his neck shocked him. She'd promised not to hurt
him, or the other pilots, she'd _just_ told him to trust her. He couldn't
escape the grip she had him in, her body twined around his, and her little
licks as she lapped his blood tickled a lot. He felt the life and
strength draining out of him. He couldn't fight her, she had started out
too strong and she still was. Now she was supporting his weight instead
of restraining him. His legs sagged and his vision dimmed.
Strange that I can smell her so much better, he thought. He was
aware of the intoxicating fragrance, the scent of her hair, the sound of
her heart pounding. He felt her lowering him to the ground. Or, he
thought, I'm wrong, I'm dying. He remembered things from his life, half-
remembered now returning with such clarity. Remembering his father, a
very different man, remembering his mother, and someone else . . . those
memories remained elusive, as if they were running away from him. He
remembered being so young.
He felt something warm and firm press past his lips, not sure if he
was remembering suckling from his mother, or an experience in the present.
He felt Rei-chan's strong fingers tangling through his hair, holding his
head tightly against her.
The instincts and old memories took over, his mouth filled with the
chalky sweetness, unexpected but welcome. He continued to suckle, drawing
strength in. He risked a glance up at Rei, her head was thrown back and a
look of rapture suffused her face, her fingers had stilled their roaming,
holding him firmly to her breast.
He felt stronger, stronger than he'd ever been, but he continued
until she released him. She looked smaller, shorter as he stood up. She
took his hands, pulling him down as she knelt. He leaned close and kissed
her, the coppery taste of his blood and the sweetness of her milk mixed in
their mouths. She broke off the kiss, her cheeks colored with
embarrassment, her entire body was `blushing` as she reached around behind
him.
"This will . . . hurt," she said, "Please trust me."
He nodded, the wound was gone. So far, as strange as this had been,
he could trust her. He enjoyed the excuse to touch her and drink in her
perfume.
It felt that she'd slashed open his back, then a weight that nearly
pulled him over backwards. He looked at the wings now growing out of his
back, like an immense bird's. Snow-white feathers edged in darkest blue.
Rei stood up, helping him to his feet, her own wings extended, her head
bowed with the effort. Her wings were snow-white and diaphanous. She
looked spent as he took her in his arms, his wings enclosed her in an
embrace, supporting her and drawing her against him. He could feel her
trembling from the exertions she'd made.
She seemed so small now, tiny and frail in his arms. He also knew
what he had to do. He looked up through the roof of the tallest tower in
their new paradise. The moon hovered above him, no longer a simple
satellite, a half-light in the night, but a void, a seething, roiling
canker to be excised and lanced. He spread his wings, he knew she could
not follow, she knew it too.
He raced through the upper airs. He could feel the maggot-ridden
corruption pulsating beneath the silvery surface.
----------------------------------------
It Is Neither Shaken By Winds, Nor Ever Wet With Rain
Damn, I think angrily, These ears can't flick. Where is that fly?
Don't move, don't move, just the slightest hint of claw. SLASH!
Flick. The fly is thrown across the room and hits the floor. There it
will spend some time quietly dying in agony.
Serves it right, I think as I snuggle with the other tabby. Even in
her deep sleep, she reacts approvingly to my overture. I will never
understand their reticence, the tabby and the tom.
No, that's not right, I admit, In a world where
things-that-should-not-be must be killed, waiting until they aren't a
threat before making kittens makes perfect sense. Being afraid of any
step that might lead to begetting kittens is craziness. And I'm stuck
with _four_ crazies. Snuggling with the warm bodies when the air is so
cold makes up for it. It should have been funny, how I was `released`, I
think back. The she-within found herself in a situation she couldn't deal
with, so she ran away. She'd put the tabby and the tom asleep after
plucking at their strings and rivers, or whatever. Did she expect the tom
to make kittens with her in her sleep? I wonder. The tabby stole all the
skins and was still shivering, pushing the she-within towards the tom. So
when the she-within found herself cold, she got close to the nearest
warmest thing available. But even asleep, the tom felt a desirable tabby
rubbing herself against him, and he reacted as any tom worth having would.
He was _asleep_, not dead! I shout at the two hiding within, Idiots, the
both of them. All he did was show his approval of the she, her
attractiveness and her actions! I can practically smell the disgusting
fear emanating from both of them within.
It's not as if the tom has hidden his affection for the she-within, I
too approve of her playfulness. I also know another thing, when the tom
absorbed the squishy thing that was threatening cat-lover squishy thing,
the tom made form and gender his personal preference. It is now possible
the tom could impregnate the she or the tabby, or be impregnated by the he.
Or both. The fact is they could produce three litters at once if they
chose.
The she-within woke when the cold got too much and felt what she was
pressing against, and panicked. I agree with the noisy, sorrel tabby, I'm
surrounded by idiots! I think at all around, Through four layers of skins,
in a sleep, he's going to force you to make kittens with him? You wrapped
your arms and legs around _him_!_ So the she-within retreated. I woke,
the first order of business was to wrap both the tom and the tabby in the
skins. They cling to each other, that partially solves the problem.
Now I lie here, my back against the tabby's, wondering why they are
both acting like they're cold. Maybe the he-within or the she-within
needs to play with their strings and rivers more, but I must do what I can.
My warmth can only warm one of them. The tom seems less affected, so I
can concentrate on keeping the tabby warm. I _do_ notice the tom reacts
to the tabby as he did to the she-within, at least he has good taste in
shes. I wholeheartedly agree with his assessment.
Then I hear it. Like a faint scratching coming from the thing that
separates the inside from the outside. The scratching continues. I ready
myself. The tabby and the tom worried about this possibility. Their plan
was I would flee. But I cannot abandon them. The opening occurs, no one
stands there, to my eyes. I don't have to watch the opening, I can smell
it. Scent, not like the tom or the tabby in the skins with me or anything
else I expect.
Not human! No, it is human, with many things mixed in, I think. It
moves across the floor. The sound of the floor shifting under the weight
of what it is, the smell preceding it. It moves like it is trying to
conceal itself. Humans play and hunt in the light, dark is for sleeping,
making kittens and worrying uselessly.
Or attacking the sleeping, I think, A little closer. My other form,
dredged from the he- and she-within's nightmares of cats, was completely
effective against those things that thought they could be both man and cat.
After they hurt _my_ tom . . . NOW! I change as I leap.
Maybe it is just stupid, so my claws don't go deep, five pain-filled
scratches. It screams, high-pitched, fearful. I roar to remind any
others _I_rule_here_!_ Even the walls repeat it back to me.
Feh! I think, It voided itself while running. I do _not_ want _that_
smell outside our refugee. I hope it only soiled the skins it wore, not
the floor or walls. A bat of my paw sends the dying fly outside and a
lash of my tail against the thing again separates the inside and outside.
I turn back to - _MY_ tom and tabby. The idea is too fun, like a
yipping dog that knows it's in a trap. The extra skins for keeping warm,
how about another? Thickly furred and warm of its own accord. Wrap it
around the tom and tabby. I can't restrain a purr at the thought, and how
horrified the he- and she-within will be to doing this. The idiots deserve
it, I think, All four of them. I make myself thinner, wider, more softly
furred. Wrapping carefully around them, not so tightly they can't breathe,
but tight enough, warm enough.
This is the best cuddling, I think as I settle to sleep.
----------------------------------------
Jeff woke quickly, somehow Ranko had changed to Ranma during the
night and that Ran_ma_ was hugging both Jeff and Nabiki very firmly to him,
of course their six legs had become a Gordian Knot. From his experiences
in Nerima, now would be the time some idiot would charge in. Which was
why he'd typically do something to the same idiot to make them the
laughing stock of the martial arts community as somebody who would _pick_
a time to break up romantic endeavors instead of going around back and
issuing a proper challenge letter. Being considered an insufferably
arrogant boob was worse than actually _being_ one. Being an 'enemy of
romance' was usually a death sentence.
How do I get out of this -? his thought stopped as he glanced down
and looked at Ranma's opening eyes. There was a terror there, beyond
anything he'd ever seen on the boy's face before.
Jeff removed Ranma's arm hand from his back and sat up, placing
Ranma's hand down on Nabiki's shoulders. "I'll start breakfast," he said
as he stood and walked away. He could feel the terrified gaze boring into
him. He was _not_ going to tease Ranma about this. Because I am such a
pure and noble soul, he thought as he took a pose appropriate to such
inherent nobility, Naw, because teasing Nabiki about arranging it
specifically to embarrass Ranma will be so much more fun. We still have
to find a source of income, a good one. The way Ranma and Nabiki eat,
we'll have to have plenty of cash coming in. He glance around, shivered.
And get a better place, he thought, smiled, I think I know the place. He
remembered how `Ranma` had gotten substantial cash for the Tendo-dojo and
a few of his own projects. Of course seeing Gendo with a hammer and nails,
or driving a bulldozer made it all worth it, he added.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki was feeling good, excellent in fact. It only stands to reason,
she told herself, With all the damage from the martial arts battles, it
makes sense there'd be an agency to repair the damage, rescue the victims,
and generally restore them to status quo ante. Or people would have risen
up in revolt long ago. The agency existed, officially they were the
Emperor's Service for Community Harmony, she wondered what they had done
before Nerima became the epicenter of insanity in Modern Japan, although
they had branches in Tomobiki-cho and Juban, the main offices and depot
were here. Nabiki was a buyer. Her job was to take the registry of goods
cataloged by the `listers` and find the best prices for suitable
replacements, by picking the sale, or by negotiations.
I can do that, she thought proudly, I just wish I'd paid attention to
this earlier, my salary is ten times what I ever made as a loan shark,
bookie, even though I'm effectively 'part-time' until my probation is over.
She had her `homework` assembled before her, on the brand new dining
room table. That gave her a feeling she couldn't explain. Since she was
fluent in English _and_ German, they had given her catalogs from American,
Canadian, British, German and Swiss stores and manufacturers to peruse and
come up with the best bargains. She knew it was a test, but she'd pass it,
this was her area of expertise. The Search and Rescue portion . . .
Raccoon had eagerly joined that, she couldn't bring herself to. She
shuddered again, not because of the events of July, but because of June
15th. She wasn't ready yet, not even for double the pay. And she wasn't
even going to try with the construction teams.
I bet they're still talking about Ranma and Raccoon, she thought
about Raccoon with a nail gun and Ranma with his speed and accuracy,
they'd laid out the wood for the entire frame of a house, Raccoon and his
gun set the nails where they needed to go, Ranma nailed them together,
they set the frames upright. Ranma nailed _them_ together, all in 20
minutes, all to a standard that matched the group's best carpenters. 'As
good as a job as master carpenters could do,' the master of the
construction teams had said. Ranma had been practically glowing with
delight. Then as an added ego boost: since the major reason for the teams
was the martial arts battles, much of the rescue work took place `under
fire`, the team had its own martial artists to defend the rescue workers
with their own unique styles.
And did I think `Horseface` had thoroughly wiped out the entire deal,
she remembered.
----------------------------------------
"So, you wanna spar?" Ranma asked an old, gray-haired man who was the
head of the martial arts division. The man's facelessness didn't extend
to his huge handlebar moustache, gray and waxed to sharp points. Nabiki
felt the sudden rise in tension among their soon-to-be coworkers.
"Certainly," the old man said smoothly, gestured to an open area
surrounded by dump trucks, bulldozers and other heavy construction
equipment. _Everyone_ was piling out to watch, after all, this was _the_
Ranma Saotome, the instigator of half their work in Nerima and a proximate
cause for the rest. Nabiki did note they took cover behind the heavy
equipment, some watching the battle with periscopes. Ranma bounced
eagerly from foot to foot as the old man took a ready stance.
"Ready when you are," Ranma called to his rival.
"I have already begun," the old man replied with a smirking tone.
Ranma instantly took a defensive stance, and waited. So did the old
man. And waited. And waited. Ranma feinted left. And waited, and
waited, etc., etc.
Nabiki noted Raccoon collected a handful of pens from the cup near
the tool crib.
"Excuse me!" He waited until he had both combatants' attention, then
launched one pen at Ranma, who dodged; and the rest singly and in pairs,
at the old man and Ranma. The old man exploded into motion. Some
projectiles he blocked, some he caught to hurl back to intercept others.
Thirty pens thrown with Raccoon's accuracy, not one even touched Ranma, or
the old man if he wasn't knocking them down himself. Raccoon gave the man
a polite bow. Ranma was looking at the man strangely.
Oh no, here's where he blows it, goodbye better life, Saotome
foot-in-mouth disease is going to get us tossed out of here on our ears,
she lamented.
"Can you stop bullets with that technique?" Ranma asked, "If you
can't, I'm sure Raccoon here can whip up a buckler or target shield that
would let you keep an area bullet proof."
The old man stared at Ranma with his curious expression, the tips of
his moustache twitching. Nabiki held her breath. Suddenly the man burst
out laughing. Raccoon and especially Ranma, had the good sense to join in.
----------------------------------------
"I should have known," Nabiki said, "Why is it in a Great Old One's
nightmare, Ranma can catch a break, but back `home` he couldn't with both
hands and a catcher's mitt?" Ranma's question made it clear he wanted to
help, he wanted to learn. His dodging protected _him_ completely, but was
useless for the area defense work that the job required. The old man, and
the other martial artists wanted to learn Ranma's speed technique in
response to learning their defense techniques, Ranma was in Heaven.
One of the masters asked Ranma how he could be so calm with 'Jefuri'
shooting nails around him, Nabiki remembered and remembered Ranma's eager
smile, ''Jefuri' shoots skeet with a Government .45, he doesn't miss . . .
ever,' Ranma told them, then demonstrated his 'transformation.' Nabiki
was curious when it had stopped being his 'curse'. Instead of the lustful
advance that would have been typical, these people talked about the
advantages and disadvantages of each side.
Then Nabiki frowned and pounded the table. "And _AGAIN_!_ The
universe found some excuse that Raccoon didn't see it!" she shouted in
protest at the perversity of it all.
Maybe the two of them arranged it on purpose, that thought broke her
bad mood instantly, she chuckled. "Who am I kidding?" She sighed, they
had jobs, friends, a reason for being and staying together. `Ranko` had
collected Raccoon to celebrate, Nabiki had begged off. She had something
else she'd wanted to do. A bit of self-flagellation, self-torture, she
knew neither Ranma nor Raccoon would understand, nor would they have
approved. They might even have tried to stop her. So she hadn't told
them.
She'd arrived outside the Tendo homestead, and breathed in the
delicious aroma of Kasumi's cooking, tempura, miso soup, daikon, pickles:
all carried on the breeze, the most delicious perfume. All of it denied to
Nabiki forever. She had remained as long as she dared, then returned home
to a dinner of cup ramen, Raccoon's pickles and an apple, a rare treat
from her youth, now she could afford one every day if she wanted one. It
was getting late, and she was getting worried. She'd been on a couple of
`dates` with Ranma and Raccoon, fairly somber affairs, mainly educating
Ranma on the intricacies of good manners. And with Raccoon and Ranko,
where Nabiki was the wet-blanket spoiling their fun.
Considering the number of `dates` Ranma took _any_ of his fiancees on,
I guess I should be flattered they keep asking me, she thought. But the
trio _always_ returned late, So I guess they're no later than the three of
us would be, I'm just lonelier, she thought.
----------------------------------------
The knock on the door brought Nabiki up out of the catalogs and her
pages of notes.
Ranma and Raccoon wouldn't knock, she thought as she headed towards
the door.
The apparition waiting was only recognizable in one aspect. It
carried Raccoon's walking stick held out as if offering it. The
facelessness Nabiki was _almost_ used to. From top to bottom the girl was
a mess, she knew in Nerima clothes and hairstyle rarely defined the true
gender. The reddish hair stood out like a fright wig, bits were still
smoldering. The ribbons that had once held it were crumbled up crunchy
bits. The costume looked like a leotard but the lace and fake skirt
eliminated Kodachi more than the hair color had. Her feet had an old-
style lace up boots that were in fashion at the turn of the century. The
girl looked like she was standing in a pool of metal that had been frozen
in mid-boil. The whole body tic was disconcerting. The girl cleared her
throat and raised the stick. "Azusa-chan is - " The tics became more
frequent and violent. "Azusa _wants_," the emphasis was almost painful to
hear. " - to return Constance to this place." The tic which had
partially subsided now grew worse again. "To its owner. And an apology
for borr - for take - for stealing it."
Nabiki could almost see the tears streaming down the girl's face, but
after the P-chan incident, Nabiki had no sympathy, although she would have
left 'P-chan' to Azusa's tender mercies. But she could get a small
measure of revenge for the trouble Azusa-`chan` had caused. "Please put
Constance on the breakfast bar." Nabiki could almost see the girl's
pleading eyes. She wanted to be rid of the thing.
Azusa bowed her head. "Of course." She tried to lift her foot, then
stepped off the metal plate with her other foot, and followed with the
foot attached to the plate.
The molten and cooled remnants of her skates, Nabiki realized, I'll
ask Raccoon and Ranko how they liked skating. When they get back.
The girl carefully, reverently, placed the walking stick down.
"It's very beautiful, isn't it?" Nabiki asked.
The girl started to nod, then - "AIEEHHH!" Clunk-stomp, clunk-stomp,
clunk- stomp retreated into the distance. Nabiki gazed down at the dark
wood, brass ball and hand guard and the dark-blue cord that made up the
handgrip. Maybe it was the place and her growing experience in reading
emotions in the faceless, but she was _certain_ the cane was smirking.
"That was very cruel," she told it, "I didn't say she didn't deserve
it, I just said it was cruel." Nabiki shook her head about talking to a
walking stick. She closed the door and returned to her `homework`,
determined to impress her new employers with her thoroughness and cunning.
----------------------------------------
Asuka saw the horizon shifting violently. She tried to stabilize and
ended up stumbling. Intellectually she realized she was hallucinating,
but it seemed so real.
Dehydration had become a serious problem. She wasn't sweating and
she hadn't urinated, so she didn't know where the water in her body had
gone. But lying there, she could recognize the symptoms. Her stomach
complained loudly at the demands placed on it without eating anything for
days, or what seemed like days. It could have been weeks for all she knew.
Her attempt to rise triggered a series of cramps as her muscles
joined the protest.
It's not easy being green, she thought about her surroundings, green
as grass.
In a little farther the hue would change slightly. The transition
between colors had been very much sharper than the changes within the
colors.
Asuka considered just why she had kept moving instead of staying put.
Maybe I'm stupid and stubborn, she thought, I didn't even consider it.
She rested a long while, lying there on the ground which wasn't as
soft as grass. Asuka let the muscles uncramp, let the horizon settle down.
If the floor was grass, she thought, It would be better. Some bread
and cool water would be even better environment than that. She raised her
head to look around, and the horizon went back to shifting. Well, if I
can't walk, that doesn't mean I can't move, she thought as she got up on
her hands and knees and continued to move. At least my feet get a rest,
she thought as she crawled onward.
----------------------------------------
Still Falls The Rain - Dark As The World Of Man
It was raining, again. Ranma sat on the windowsill and stared out at
the rain. The rain made him sad, but it also meant that he would have a
quiet day. They'd been here almost four months, since it was just a dream,
he knew he wouldn't have to worry about how much time passed in the `real
world`. He had no real worries lately. They had a larger apartment, a
relatively reliable source of money and challenges. The battles between
and among the martial artists required extensive repairs. The entire
repair team was composed of three different groups. The normal `fast`
construction teams, he and Raccoon worked there, on a part time basis.
With Raccoon's accuracy and his - her - speed, they could do the framing
for a house in a few minutes, leaving the experts for the delicate work,
which typically happened.
The Search and rescue aspect was Raccoon's specialty, and he was
utterly fearless. He'd go into places even Ranma felt apprehensive about,
and got people to safely. Raccoon explained it away for Ranma by talking
about his AT field. Of course Nab-chan worked with the logistics end,
sending teams where they were most needed, making sure the supplies that
were needed arrived, and that people got their stuff back.
Nab-chan still couldn't bring herself to work in SAR. No one blamed
her. Ranma often wanted to join the battle, instead he remembered his
training and his duty. He often acted as `point defense` for construction
and rescue teams, keeping the martial arts attacks/weapons, and in some
cases combatants from reaching the construction and rescue crews. He was
proud of his successes. Yes, he had many challenges, respect of his
teachers/coworkers and the affection of both his roommates. He smirked at
that, the few times they'd tried to sleep in separate places, the 'other'
would physically drag them together. Nothing had occurred except nervous
sleeping and cuddling, but that wasn't the point. Even the weirdos hadn't
found him, or her, at home or work. No one interfered, no one forced them
to be anything except together.
Once or twice the Nerimaniacs had located Ranma/Ranko with Nab-chan
or Raccoon. 'Ranma prepare to - BWEEEH!', 'Airen - meorw', 'Ranma for your
- QUACK!' 'Ranma you pervert I - ' poof/blam (depending on who shot
first). 'Delinquent - ' poof. 'Ungrateful - Growf.' 'Pigtailed - '
poof/blam (ditto). 'Foul sorcerer - ' KRZAPT ' - sor - cer - er' clunk
(always Raccoon he _hates_ being called a sorcerer).
What bothered Ranma most was what the activities of these `honorable
martial artists` said about martial arts. A typhoon didn't cause the
damage their battles did. A week didn't go by when the rescue teams
weren't called out. Few people lasted as long as the three of them had.
The crushing helplessness of it made you cynical, or you would attack one
of the martial artists and become part of the problem. So the team
members were rotated out at the first signs of such stress, some to one of
the other stations, or a paid leave of absence.
Ranma understood this was all a punishment visited on them by an
alien force. The explanation didn't eliminate the creeping guilt and
anger he felt. Of course the destroyed property was replaced, but the
heirlooms, pictures, memories all were destroyed and couldn't _be_
replaced, but that didn't seem to matter to the combatants. Although, the
teams did their best. He knew he could stop them, stop all of them. With
Raccoon to back him up, or just release Raccoon from Ranko's promise, it
would stop them forever. But that wasn't allowed, murder was still murder.
They didn't kill. Drop a house on someone, that someone crawled out. The
people around here could soak up that kind of punishment.
With one notable exception. Ranma remembered the look of horror on
the face of the combatants when they smeared Raccoon all over the pavement.
Of course _he_ took it in stride after he recovered. Although Raccoon had
stealthily delivered 50 kilos of red gelatin cubes with bits of offal in
them to each of his `murderers'` bedrooms. Even 10 km away, they had
heard the screams and laughed about it. All three of them.
But yesterday it wasn't one of the crazies, Ranma thought about the
leave he'd been placed on, Ranma closed his eyes, Guys don't cry, guys
don't cry! Yesterday it had been a kindergarten. Ranma neither knew nor
cared why 'the Phoenix Prince' decided to incinerate the building. Logic
never seemed to apply. The SAR team had rushed in, got everybody out, not
a single loss. Ranma and everyone else had let themselves get distracted
and a kid wandered back in. Raccoon noticed first and rushed back into
the smoke and flames to get the kid out. Ranma wasn't worried, Raccoon
had a skill finding people and his magic and AT field meant Raccoon would
emerge unscathed from the flames.
Maybe the kid's death rattle of 'Rosebud' was supposed to be funny.
It wasn't funny to Ranma, he'd wanted to kill the arrogant bastard who
suddenly realized a bunch of 'worms' had spoiled his fun, and brought the
SAR teams under fire, literally. Raccoon had tackled Ranma to keep him
out of the fight. But Ranma had been beyond reasoning, beyond any attempt
to explain or cajole. He wanted to kill the arrogant punk and was going
to go through whatever was in his way. Raccoon's blood and bone was the
only thing in the way.
Ranma hadn't killed him, he'd recover . . . Eventually, Ranma thought,
How long that eventually is . . . that worried Ranma. He'd never lost
his temper that way, never lashed out at a friend to get at an enemy.
Raccoon would undoubtedly forgive him. The rest of the team understood,
it had happened to every single one of them, they all made sure to tell
him that. So Ranma was on paid leave, an enforced vacation. If the rains
kept up, he wouldn't be needed. But instead of being happy that Raccoon
survived, Ranma only felt ashamed. Some of the worst martial artist
offenders had disappeared. It didn't take a genius to figure out who
`disappeared` them, why and how. But that was Raccoon's way, if he had to
defend the people, he'd defend the people. The ones who never threatened
anyone outside their circle were safe, those that only hurt other
combatants were safe. Like me, Ranma thought. The ones who reveled in
collateral damage didn't last. It shamed martial arts and martial artists.
It shamed him, then _he_ brought shame to martial arts in one unguarded
moment.
The 'other' had been bugging him about 'kittens', Ranma wondered if
it might be time to do something he'd always thought was unacceptable,
even alien to his nature. Agree with the 'other', and become a mother.
Ranko could propose to Raccoon, make the leave of absence unpaid and
permanent, maybe figure out a way to open a school to run when the
children were at school. Teach potential martial artists not just the
skills but the responsibilities and ethics of the martial arts. Live up
to those responsibilities and ethics himself.
Ranma squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling.
He couldn't ask the others. Raccoon would say he was making too much of
it, and Nab-chan seemed terrified of the idea of motherhood, for many of
the reasons Asuka worried them about. Nab-chan wanted a career, she liked
fighting as much as Ranma did, but she wanted to fight in the boardroom
rather than in the streets or arenas. Ranma also could see the joy the
others on the construction crew felt when they built something, when they
remade a home. The way he felt when . . . it was ironic that he could
access a whole other way of `building` something, something that mattered,
something that would last longer then the temporary construction in and
around Nerima where everything except feuds were transitory and life went
on out of sheer inertia. Just because the deeply flawed people who
battled eternally here didn't want to accept the final conclusion, and
seemed equally unwilling to accept the facts that deaths, growth, change
and advancement all entailed hard choices. That didn't mean he was like
them. He could do a lot worse than a family life.
He decided he'd never return here, if the reality was anything like
this, he had _nothing_ in common with these people. He'd seen and done
too much to simply ignore the cost of his actions, his inactions and his
failure to act properly.
The other thing that Ranma was extremely worried about was the repair
of Nab-chan's ki flaws. The second treatment had brought Raccoon back to
normal, he'd thought at the time that he'd managed to fix Nab-chan too.
Less than a week later, the problems returned. The 'other' `smelled` them
before Ranma detected them through casual contact. He suspected one
reason for the 'other' to insist on all of them sleeping together was that
the flaws were easiest to detect while she was deeply asleep. The
treatments were fortunately getting further and further between.
He and Raccoon also figured out the sudden grave chills Nab-chan got
while she slept, while she seemed to be covered with sweat. It took all
the warmth Ranma/Ranko and Raccoon could generate by body, magic and ki to
break the chill. More frightening was Raccoon's assertion that is wasn't
sweat covering Nab-chan during these episodes, it was sea water.
Ranko and Raccoon had discussed this strange place, that only Nab-
chan really liked being here. Ranma could be comfortable anywhere, ditto
Raccoon. Despite everything, Nab-chan _wanted_ to be here.
The two of them dreaded that the reason for the scenario and
Nab-chan's `illness` was that Nab-chan was the main target, the other
pilots were hit as a side-effect. The two anchors for Nab-chan, to
prevent her from getting kicked off this plane of existence, were him and
Raccoon, so they held her back and prevented her from being destroyed.
Their combined `inertia` landed the trio here, and since Nab-chan was the
target, she'd been the most damaged by the transition. Raccoon more so
because of his proximity, Ranma effectively came along for the ride. All
in all it made sense. It also bothered Ranma that either Nab-chan had
reached out to him, or he'd reached out to her to prevent her from being
killed. He would have done it in a fight, but to `volunteer` while she
was on the other side of the world . . . and all it meant about how he
felt about her and how she felt about him, or both. It really worried him.
They'd avoided serious entanglements with any of his previous
paramours, sometimes only by strenuous effort, usually by trickery. Ranma
still couldn't believe what worked on these people. The agency's reports
let him read about their activities, and he felt sorry for them.
Of course the suggestion I get them all together to discuss things,
he remembered the screaming match that had ignited, Then they didn't
accept my statement I wouldn't do it. They chained me to a bulldozer for
three days, under constant guard. While they fed him, gave him bathroom
breaks, the rest of the time was a recitation of what fiance(e) destroyed
what building, destroyed how much property over what insult: cooking,
sewing, cuteness, bust size, ability to bear children.
Sitting there in the bulldozer scoop, listening to Raccoon's long
medical explanation was bad enough, Ranma thought, Under extreme, regular
physical exertion, a woman would stop having her menstruation altogether,
or it would become erratic. No menstruation, probably no kids. Ranma was
shocked that evidently, some of his `fiancees` fell into that category.
So much of their body's reserves were called upon for battle, the body
quit `wasting` effort to produce the next generation, since the effort
would reduce the chance of this generation surviving.
Knowing how important `kittens` are to the 'other', Ranma thought, I
can imagine how _that_ argument could escalate out of all control. He'd
kept any ideas about solving these people's problems strictly as insights
into the nature of these people from then on, it was safer that way.
Unfortunately it also gave him a clear view into the dark aspects of
his own pride. It was not a good reflection of him nor on him. He could
see why Nab-chan and Raccoon had reacted so violently to the suggestion.
Why Asuka, Mein Grosfeldmarschall, and Raccoon held `honor` in such low
esteem.
People who really have it, don't talk about it, he thought, They
cloak it in as duty, 'doing the right thing', into responsibility, and
other words. He couldn't imagine Raccoon or Asuka fighting a duel that
took out a dozen city blocks, even if they fought it in their EVAs.
"But that's what puts a roof over my head, food on the table and
clothes on my back," he said, most of the rest of his pay went to various
charities to help the victims. Although everyone told him the battles
would have happened anyway, he, and she, was just an excuse. He still
felt responsible, the only part of him that really craved ease and comfort,
found it every night with its two favorite cuddle-toys.
He did understand if he should announce a wedding to anyone, he
should have the entire Self Defense Force, ashore, airborne and afloat set
up a gauntlet to run these people through. It was a dark thought for a
dark night like this one. The alternative was withdraw the request he -
she'd - made of Raccoon that first day. He could eliminate the problems
quickly enough.
That wouldn't be the - 'other' - among the pigeons, that would be
throwing the pigeons straight into a chipper/shredder. The idea was to
survive until the dream ended, not slaughter a bunch of people who hadn't
been as life-threatening to his two friends as he had.
Then he frowned about it, felt the tears make another sortie. Until
yesterday, when they might have been of use, then they were pathetic, he
thought, They only made the little brat angry. The battle still haunted
him. A god, or so he claimed to be, was exactly the kind of thing the EVA
pilots should be fighting: slavers, murderers, people destroying those
`lesser` than them out of sheer `fun` of it. Instead what he fought
didn't care about people, their lives, their cities, even when you were
killing them they only felt astonishment. He wished he could have faced
the phoenix in Unit 04, it would have made him feel cleaner.
"I could have taken that punk without Unit 04, or if I'd calmed down,
listened, then Raccoon and I would have taken him later," he said, "But I
didn't listen, wouldn't wait. Our _job_ was rescuing those people, not
fighting the menace. Bore him and make him go away. _Then_ hunt him down
and take him at a time and place of our choosing. But I didn't _do_
that."
He regretted it, but he often acted in haste and it gave him long
periods alone to regret his rashness.
----------------------------------------
Asuka fell. All her determination, all her desire couldn't make her
rise again. She'd made it as far as blue. Red and orange hadn't been bad,
in yellow her thirst began to bother her, there was nothing she had here
except herself. The hunger pangs had been bad, but she was used to cramps.
The effects of dehydration had grown increasingly difficult to ignore.
Even crawling, she'd started stumbling repeatedly as the floor and the
ceiling shifted suddenly. Her palms and knees were inflamed and raw where
they'd repeatedly touched the floor.
Now she lay on the blue floor, surrounded by the blue `sky`, and the
blue walls. She wasn't thinking `blue` thoughts, she wasn't resting to
make another effort. Not moving eased the pain to a dull ache, now lying
on the ground told her the jittering horizon was in her mind.
She closed her eyes to prevent the incipient motion sickness. I do
not need to throw up, I feel bad enough as it is, she thought.
"Okay," she croaked through cracked lips, "What am I supposed to do?
Pray?" This is just a dream, she thought, I'm just going to wake up. She
was worried that it wouldn't be the way out.
The tread of something heavy caught her attention. She couldn't even
raise her head to look, but the huge violet object walked around into her
field of view.
Unit 02, an odd violet in the blue light. She'd heard rumors that
the purple monster, Unit 01, moved on its own. Unit 02 was too 'well-
mannered' for that. It reached down towards her, picking her up so gently.
She couldn't reach out her hands to her `old friend`. It's manner
reminded her of her mutti.
"I have come to help you." She heard from the EVA's speakers.
"Wondergirl?!" she croaked desperately, "You aren't - "
The Price That Life Exacts
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these
stories.
C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments@worldnet.att.net
Stories are available in Rich Text Format and HTML at:
http://home.att.net/~danjess.gibson
(these are the most updated versions)
Stories are available in Plain ASCII at:
http://archives.eyrie.org/anime/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
ftp://ftp.cs.ubc.ca/pub/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/Sic-Semper-Morituri/
http://www.cs.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/ftp/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/type/Sic-Semper-Morituri
(these are the original versions)
A Wolf In The Fold, Rain On Ripe Corn
It had been a long, tiring day. Jeff trudged back from the showers.
He'd waited until there was no one else likely to use them, then he'd
cleaned them all and used one, doing a cursory clean up after. Today,
he'd gotten some _extremely_ unfriendly looks, interesting considering the
universal lack of faces among the natives. The postures were telling, he
was unwelcome here. But the girls were so fascinated by Ranma, his gaijin
friend was most welcome. The boys weren't so forgiving. He'd hoped he
didn't get jumped in the showers, anywhere except Nerima he would have
been confident of his ability to defend himself. He had many tricks to
use, but most crippled or killed.
The quietness of the dormitories worried him as he headed back. His
cane was a sufficient weapon, but if things were quiet, it could mean
anything. Typically it meant the sheep had been cowed into silence, or
they wanted to hear what happened. 'Kuno's Samurai' had ambushed him
repeatedly in the earlier dream, none of those worthies had gotten out of
those fights unmarked. Kendo was not an art for the street. They didn't
even appreciate the red shirts he kept sending them. Some people just
don't get cultural references, he thought as he walked into the ambush.
He had his defenses up before the hands grabbed him and slammed him
against the wall. The fist in the gut encountered the AT field he had
under his suit coat. He still acted as if the blow had its desired effect,
despite the man's broken knuckles.
Nine boys, the most hostile, were packed in the small room he shared
with Ranma, who was on the cot, sound asleep.
"Well you can watch, and if you're nice, we'll be nice to you," the
leader said as he unbuckled his belt.
Well, I was wondering where I was going to get some extra spending
money in a hurry, Jeff thought as he prepared.
----------------------------------------
Now she was transiting orange. Asuka had quit complaining as she
crossed the midpoint of red, so assigned because the darkness behind and
the orange ahead were equally noticeable.
The march was boring beyond belief. She _did_ wish she had some
shoes. She could imagine the blisters she'd get on this march. She
wondered if all the colors of the spectrum would be represented. She also
wondered what the purpose was. There was no day or night, so she slept
when she was tired and marched when she was not. If it was isolation, it
would take such a long time until it would have a real effect. Certainly
longer than the time it would take to get through the entire spectrum.
She stared at the color in the distance and kept walking.
----------------------------------------
Ranma was instantly awake. He didn't know how. He also didn't know
why he was so frightened, or why he wanted to slap that silly grin off
Raccoon's face.
"Ha, ha," the irritating voice attached to the grin said, "I knew
that would work."
"What did you do?" Ranma felt _awful_, he'd never drunk plum tea,
green tea with pickled plums, nor was he ever going to again. It tasted
awful at the time, now it was worse. But how many cups how fast told you
how tough you were, and he'd beaten all the others.
"You don't drink well," Raccoon told him, handed him a mug of _plain_
green tea.
Ranma drank it, he drank it all, he would have drunk a glass of L.C.L.
to get the funny taste out of his mouth.
"What did you say to me?" Ranma asked.
"It isn't what I said, but whose voice I used," Raccoon told him.
Ranma remembered the lessons in mimicry Raccoon had given Ranko, it seemed
like years ago.
"Oh, Asuka's . . . " Ranma fitted the pieces together. " 'Oh Ranma!
We're due only a few weeks apart, one girl and one boy,'" Ranma said what
Raccoon had, he shuddered at the idea of getting Asuka pregnant, and more
at Asuka getting _him_ pregnant. Ranma was surprised he hadn't
surrendered to the 'other' and wasn't hanging from the ceiling yowling his
terrified head off. "You're a rotten . . . "
"Yes?"
"I wish you felt like I do!" Ranma invoked a stronger curse.
"Congratulations, now you're 'Misa-chan'."
"What?!"
"You drank yourself into unconsciousness," Raccoon told him.
"It was only tea!" Ranma flashed to anger. "When I get my hands on-"
"I convinced them to leave," Raccoon told him, "Once they understood,
they were . . . very cooperative, and very apologetic."
"You . . . you didn't . . . " he switched to a whisper, "Kill them?"
"I dropped them off somewhere and pointed them away from Tokyo. I'm
not going to murder someone in the middle of Tokyo just because they
slipped you a mickey finn, a drugged drink. Good lesson, so you won't
turn out like Major K."
Ranma relaxed. "So, what, you blackmailed them? What did you
blackmail them out of?" Ranma knew he wouldn't let them off cheap.
"Oh, the usual: jewelry, spare cash, and a few things we'll need for
the moment."
Ranma focused on that Raccoon wasn't wearing his suit and tie, even
his ever-present fedora was gone, he looked more closely and realized
Raccoon wasn't wearing his usual boots either. "You sold your clothes
too?" The jeans jacket and slacks looked - alien, out of place - on
Raccoon.
"They're antiques," Raccoon explained, "Authentic from the war period,
we're going to need money if we're going to get an apartment of our own."
"We can stay here," Ranma said, "The manager said so."
"The amount of work you and I put in yesterday would pay for a decent
house. If we were professional plumbers, carpenters, electricians - "
"Steam fitters," Ranma concluded.
"Anyway, there can't be much more to fix around here, unless you
think we should rebuild this place from top to bottom."
Ranma seemed to be considering, he was wondering when the floor was
going to quit moving and whether his ears were really unscrewing from his
head.
"Ranma?"
"I'm - " He pushed past Raccoon and managed to get to the lavatory
before he threw up.
Once he'd finished, he looked up and saw Raccoon standing there with
a mug of water in his hands. "You knew this was going to happen."
"Considering all you drank, I wasn't expecting you to wake up, ever,"
Raccoon told him sternly.
There was no evidence of a follow up rebuke, which made Ranma feel
even worse. "The last thing I remember . . . " Ranma sighed, "I don't
remember much. Why does Misa-chan do this?"
"Because it dulls the pain, supposedly."
"There has to be a reason for the alcohol they gave me. You don't
think it was just a contest like they said?"
"No, they definitely had another end in mind," Raccoon said.
"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" Ranma asked.
"You are exactly right," Raccoon replied, his tone was gentler, "Get
moving. I saved you some breakfast. We still have to check on those gas
fittings in the kitchen and swap out the used propane cylinders."
"Ranma Saotome, marital artist and plumber," Ranma griped.
"And carpenter and electrician and steam fitter - "
"All right!" Ranma shouted at him, Raccoon's cheerfulness was getting
on Ranma's nerves.
"Why isn't Nab-chan helping us - wait - I've still got the bruises,
never mind," he said. He remembered her attempts to `help`, he was fairly
certain she wasn't failing miserably just to get out of working.
"Besides, she's out apartment hunting. I can't pass for Japanese and
you can't pass for an adult, she can do both."
Ranma grumbled a little, but grumbling wasn't going to get him
breakfast.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki looked at the place, small was the first word that came to
mind. Expensive was the second. But it was far cheaper to stay in Nerima,
and this place was equipped with a kitchenette, a shower, and several easy
escape routes for Ranma. The last she hoped wouldn't be necessary. The
owner demanding six month's rent in advance had been outrageous, but she
had the cash and she'd been able to make sure none of it was a security
deposit. She was terribly glad he hadn't asked her if she was a martial
artist or even if she was living alone.
Maybe he thinks I'm a runaway and is trying to gouge me, then knock
me out and sell me to the North Koreans, she thought, then she considered
the welcoming party that would be waiting for anyone who tried that.
Raccoon had dealt with the group that slipped Ranma a 'mickey finn', she
wondered how many elephant doses he downed before they . . . she shuddered
at that. She knew such groups existed, that rape was not just something
done to women by men. But there was a huge difference between what was
known intellectually, and what was known through experience. Still I am
glad Raccoon had 'intercepted and dissuaded them', she thought. She'd
been shocked he'd left them alive, only that he'd 'escorted them out of
the vicinity.' It had taken additional threats given, promises extracted
and pleadings done by her to not reveal anything to Ranma, that where he
'dumped them off' was twenty feet above the ocean, halfway between Tokyo
and the Bonin Islands. Giving them a chance, however slight, to be
rescued. And a long, lingering death if they weren't. And a story no one
would believe if they were.
She'd already sold many of their possessions, pawned a few more and
with the cash Raccoon had given her, she could at least make a dent in the
unfurnished apartment. She had no idea what they were going to do when
the money ran out. Betting on illegal fights came to mind, and Ranma
would probably always win, and Raccoon could protect her and their
winnings.
But there has to be a less sordid way, she thought, Cheesecake and
blackmail are one thing, this is straight gangster stuff.
She knew she and Raccoon could convince Ranma, she found it odd she
really didn't want to. She wondered if she were going soft, or if her
long dormant conscience had woken up and was going to be trouble.
----------------------------------------
Thirsty, Asuka thought as she trudged through yellow. The blisters
on her feet weren't helping, the entire ordeal was clearly one of
endurance, without clothing, shelter, tools or the means to make any of
them. The last time she'd marched this far had been in dreams. But there
was no end in sight. Now the time was passing without any noticeable
benefit.
Maybe Horseface would see this as useful, she thought,But I don't.
----------------------------------------
The Winter Is Past, The Rain Over And Gone
"Come on you two," Ranko told Nab-chan and Raccoon, "We're all going
to be fully clothed and besides it's freezing. We only have a couple of
decent blankets."
And with your ki as messed up as it is, Ranko didn't say, A chill
would kill both of you. The temporary cure had failed. Ranma had
suggested the repair and a way to stay warm, but that would require a good
deal of physical intimacy over a long time. Ranma had suggested sleeping
with them, then ran so deep into his mind Ranko couldn't do anything.
Ranko also didn't want it to sound too clinical, to make it sound like an
excuse or a trick. I'll tell them after they agree, Ranko told herself.
Nab-chan was wearing her usual shirt and slacks flannel pajamas, Ranko
tried not to react to how Nab-chan was reacting to the cold. Raccoon in a
similar shirt and pants-style pajamas.
The fact that Nab-chan seemed to start shuddering and tearing up for
no apparent reason and immediately sought out a hug and reassurance from
Raccoon had _absolutely_ nothing to do with it. After all, it made
complete sense that Ran_ma_ would be jealous of Raccoon, but it was
_absolutely_ ridiculous that Ran_ko_ would be jealous of Nab-chan.
Terrific, Ranko thought, Miss 'Grab-Anything' is nervous that I might
do that to her. Raccoon didn't seem to be having the same reaction. The
truth was Ranma had watched Raccoon patching the electrics, repairing and
running steam lines, water lines, gas lines; all the while thoroughly
explaining it to Ranma or Ranko, whoever was less likely to change if bad
things happened. The concept of flowing water Ranma grasped easily, that
electrics acted much the same way was a surprise. The differences of gas
and steam to water was a real eye opener. Ranma had drawn out various
ways of plumbing, diverting and controlling water flow, had received
warnings about steam lines and electrical lines.
She couldn't heal their frazzled and tangled ki flaws, but if ki did
flow like water or electricity, then she could establish the proper
channels and levies and hydraulic jumps to get it flowing in ways that
wouldn't be so life-threatening. If she could manage that, she could
leave the rest to natural processes.
She was glad Raccoon took Nab-chan's hand and led her to the blankets
and sleeping bags they'd gotten from the others at the youth hostel. The
whole collection would insulate them from the cold floor, and the blankets
would go over the top. The pair knelt on the bedding, keeping a very
small distance from each other. That was fine with Ranko, she slid in
between them, facing Nab-chan, and pulled them down to lie alongside her.
Both were more nervous than if they were going into a fight. Ranko gently
stroked Nab-chan's hair, then her cheeks. This frightened, then relaxed
Nab-chan. It also gave Ranko the idea of how to untangle the knot that
would prevent Nab-chan from sleeping properly. It would have the side
effect of essentially sedating her for a few hours, but Ranko could
protect them.
"I won't hurt you, or take advantage of you," she told Nab-chan, it
galled her to have to tell Nab-chan something she of all people should
_know_, but Ranko remembered Asuka's warning about perceptions and reality.
She knew that neither Nab-chan nor Raccoon would try anything, it was the
only thing that was keeping her from jumping out of her skin and following
Ranma into the darkness. Ranko kissed the tip of Nab-chan's nose, very
carefully. "Unlike a certain someone I could mention."
That brought Nab-chan back to herself.
"I detected a ki imbalance in you and Raccoon, that's why you were in
such a bad way when you arrived. I thought I fixed it, I didn't, now
after two days watching the engineer fix that whole sick building, I think
I can fix it properly."
Nab-chan gulped, "You mean . . . will it hurt?"
"No, but it will make you real sleepy."
"Maybe we could ask . . . " She shook her head. "No, forget it,
terrible - dangerous idea."
"What?" Ranko asked.
"There are other ki masters," Raccoon supplied, "All of them would
turn us over to the Nerimaniacs immediately. They'd never be an end to it.
Better to stay anonymous. Tomorrow, I'll set up some wards and fixed
defense spells to keep them from finding us. Unless you want me to kill
them all instead."
"_NO_!_" Ranko insisted, there wasn't enough space to turn and face
him, "Absolutely not. They're an irritant, and human, not the things we
fight. I don't want people murdered, just to make my life easier, even if
they _are_ just shadows."
"As you wish," he said, leaned close, his breath tickling her neck,
"Don't worry, there are ways of dealing with them. Not permanent, but
long term. Ways that will make them _loooong_ for the sweet release of
death."
Raccoon running an icy finger down her spine didn't help Ranko's composure
at all. "But I won't allow that either." He gave an evil laugh, until
that point Ranko was nervous, then she relaxed. If Raccoon was joking
about it, then he wasn't likely to commit mayhem.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki was also relieved. Even if these weren't really her family
and old victims, she wasn't happy about the slaughter that would result if
Raccoon decided they were a threat to Ranma's and her, health and safety.
Pilots fought for the safety of Raccoon, Asuka, Shinji and Rei's entire
world. She'd felt the wrongness, the foul, festering malignancy of their
enemy first hand. These people were self-centered and thoughtless,
exactly like their enemy, but without their global reach. The deaths of a
few in another world to protect to protect a third of the entire supply
wouldn't even give any of them pause. A few lives for billions. She
couldn't really fault their thinking, most people would make the same
choice. Few, besides Rei and Raccoon would make it so ruthlessly and
carry it out in so remorselessly thoroughly a manner. She'd watched the
`invincible` Happosai's fate. Her father and Genma were terrified of the
old letch. Raccoon had dispatched him in less than a minute. She didn't
know how, she didn't really _care_ but it wasn't something she wanted
loosed on her once-sisters and used-to-be father. She shuddered at that,
then at Ranko running her hands over her arms. She could feel a tingling,
even though the material of her pajamas, which did nothing for her
composure, or the fear of what would happen if the fiance(e) brigade, or
worse, the two fathers, came crashing in. Ranma in bed with Nabiki and
another man. They'd have her in front of a minister so fast, drugged and
dragged, if necessary. _Later_, they'd remember he was eta and she'd
disowned them, old habits died hard. She could imagine what they'd do to
the gaijin, she could also imagine the retaliation. Ranma's promise
didn't touch Raccoon defending his own life. The Wrecking Crew had never
faced a real soldier. They talked about death, war and vengeance. But
for all they really understood, they might as well have been talking about
walking on the moon in ballet tutu and tights.
No, not vengeance, dispatch, she thought again about handling that . .
... thing and how she wanted to either kill it, or run away screaming. She
pulled herself away from those memories before she burst into tears again,
and realized she'd grabbed Ranma in a Shampoo-style hug.
"Nab-chan, you 'kay?" came the querulous voice from between her
breasts. Nabiki could feel Ranma's breathing and how rigid with fear the
girl was. "You may touch me wherever you feel is medically necessary,"
she assured Ranma.
"That's nice, but I can't breathe."
"Oh Ranma, I offer you raptures of the flesh undreamt of and you
trouble me with breathing."
"Who let Kuno in here?" Raccoon asked.
Nabiki flinched at the comparison and swiftly released Ranma. "Make
sure you take his temperature. I have a rectal thermometer around here
somewhere."
"What does 'rectal' mean?" Ranma asked.
"It means she wants you to put it under my tongue," Raccoon supplied.
Even Nabiki winced at that thought.
"It should be a simple process," Ranma told her as he touched her
here and there with an expression that wouldn't have been out of place on
Ritsuko or Asuka. She was still nervous about being this close to Ranma
while in Nerima, and that the idiots might be out in force, searching for
him. She felt they should have been barring the doors, setting guards on
rotation, laying out some kind of battle plan.
Instead, she was staring into Ranma's pretty face all creased with
concentration, doing what she could barely understand. She impulsively
touched the other girl's face, and didn't distract her or get the usual
reaction she tried for. So she lay back and tried to relax. Maybe
Raccoon's sorcery would give them an undisturbed night's rest and the
`enemy` would storm their position at dawn tomorrow. Or the idiots were
still in disarray and couldn't launch an attack yet. After all, Ranma
would be at his usual haunts, right? But Ranma no longer knew his usual
haunts, and he had only Asuka's and Raccoon's stories about the
Nerimaniacs to go by, and even Nabiki didn't think Ranma would want to
tangle with the crazies that pair had described.
She felt her eyes closing. She missed her mother. She missed
Rit-chan too. She wondered if Rit-chan was proud of her for what she did.
She knew her mother had never told her she was proud of little Nabiki.
Only Kasumi who wanted to be mommy, and Akane who wanted to be daddy,
never Nabiki, who wanted to be Nabiki.
----------------------------------------
The city was rebuilt, and all the earth around it. People did their
jobs and still found their joy. He worked very hard at _do_ing as little
as possible while he encouraged as much as possible, letting others
discover their strengths and talents. He grudgingly accepted that this
was probably his father's intention, however artlessly he carried it out.
Rei came towards him, Shinji was nervous about the expression on her
face and that she was naked. He knew this was all a dream, like the one
he'd had months ago. But what they did here still mattered, and the
hunger and determination in Rei-chan's expression worried him. She
approached, walking enticingly, he'd never seen anything so beautiful
before. All the talk about Ritsuko this, Misato that, or Asuka the other,
none of them was as beautiful as Rei-chan was right now.
He was certain he was in no danger, but he knew something odd was
happening. She carefully gathering him in her arms, her soft flesh and
warm body made him uncomfortable, he knew what he wanted to do. He also
knew Asuka and his father would kill him if he did.
"Trust me," Rei-chan told him between kisses on his neck and throat.
He nodded.
Her teeth piercing his neck shocked him. She'd promised not to hurt
him, or the other pilots, she'd _just_ told him to trust her. He couldn't
escape the grip she had him in, her body twined around his, and her little
licks as she lapped his blood tickled a lot. He felt the life and
strength draining out of him. He couldn't fight her, she had started out
too strong and she still was. Now she was supporting his weight instead
of restraining him. His legs sagged and his vision dimmed.
Strange that I can smell her so much better, he thought. He was
aware of the intoxicating fragrance, the scent of her hair, the sound of
her heart pounding. He felt her lowering him to the ground. Or, he
thought, I'm wrong, I'm dying. He remembered things from his life, half-
remembered now returning with such clarity. Remembering his father, a
very different man, remembering his mother, and someone else . . . those
memories remained elusive, as if they were running away from him. He
remembered being so young.
He felt something warm and firm press past his lips, not sure if he
was remembering suckling from his mother, or an experience in the present.
He felt Rei-chan's strong fingers tangling through his hair, holding his
head tightly against her.
The instincts and old memories took over, his mouth filled with the
chalky sweetness, unexpected but welcome. He continued to suckle, drawing
strength in. He risked a glance up at Rei, her head was thrown back and a
look of rapture suffused her face, her fingers had stilled their roaming,
holding him firmly to her breast.
He felt stronger, stronger than he'd ever been, but he continued
until she released him. She looked smaller, shorter as he stood up. She
took his hands, pulling him down as she knelt. He leaned close and kissed
her, the coppery taste of his blood and the sweetness of her milk mixed in
their mouths. She broke off the kiss, her cheeks colored with
embarrassment, her entire body was `blushing` as she reached around behind
him.
"This will . . . hurt," she said, "Please trust me."
He nodded, the wound was gone. So far, as strange as this had been,
he could trust her. He enjoyed the excuse to touch her and drink in her
perfume.
It felt that she'd slashed open his back, then a weight that nearly
pulled him over backwards. He looked at the wings now growing out of his
back, like an immense bird's. Snow-white feathers edged in darkest blue.
Rei stood up, helping him to his feet, her own wings extended, her head
bowed with the effort. Her wings were snow-white and diaphanous. She
looked spent as he took her in his arms, his wings enclosed her in an
embrace, supporting her and drawing her against him. He could feel her
trembling from the exertions she'd made.
She seemed so small now, tiny and frail in his arms. He also knew
what he had to do. He looked up through the roof of the tallest tower in
their new paradise. The moon hovered above him, no longer a simple
satellite, a half-light in the night, but a void, a seething, roiling
canker to be excised and lanced. He spread his wings, he knew she could
not follow, she knew it too.
He raced through the upper airs. He could feel the maggot-ridden
corruption pulsating beneath the silvery surface.
----------------------------------------
It Is Neither Shaken By Winds, Nor Ever Wet With Rain
Damn, I think angrily, These ears can't flick. Where is that fly?
Don't move, don't move, just the slightest hint of claw. SLASH!
Flick. The fly is thrown across the room and hits the floor. There it
will spend some time quietly dying in agony.
Serves it right, I think as I snuggle with the other tabby. Even in
her deep sleep, she reacts approvingly to my overture. I will never
understand their reticence, the tabby and the tom.
No, that's not right, I admit, In a world where
things-that-should-not-be must be killed, waiting until they aren't a
threat before making kittens makes perfect sense. Being afraid of any
step that might lead to begetting kittens is craziness. And I'm stuck
with _four_ crazies. Snuggling with the warm bodies when the air is so
cold makes up for it. It should have been funny, how I was `released`, I
think back. The she-within found herself in a situation she couldn't deal
with, so she ran away. She'd put the tabby and the tom asleep after
plucking at their strings and rivers, or whatever. Did she expect the tom
to make kittens with her in her sleep? I wonder. The tabby stole all the
skins and was still shivering, pushing the she-within towards the tom. So
when the she-within found herself cold, she got close to the nearest
warmest thing available. But even asleep, the tom felt a desirable tabby
rubbing herself against him, and he reacted as any tom worth having would.
He was _asleep_, not dead! I shout at the two hiding within, Idiots, the
both of them. All he did was show his approval of the she, her
attractiveness and her actions! I can practically smell the disgusting
fear emanating from both of them within.
It's not as if the tom has hidden his affection for the she-within, I
too approve of her playfulness. I also know another thing, when the tom
absorbed the squishy thing that was threatening cat-lover squishy thing,
the tom made form and gender his personal preference. It is now possible
the tom could impregnate the she or the tabby, or be impregnated by the he.
Or both. The fact is they could produce three litters at once if they
chose.
The she-within woke when the cold got too much and felt what she was
pressing against, and panicked. I agree with the noisy, sorrel tabby, I'm
surrounded by idiots! I think at all around, Through four layers of skins,
in a sleep, he's going to force you to make kittens with him? You wrapped
your arms and legs around _him_!_ So the she-within retreated. I woke,
the first order of business was to wrap both the tom and the tabby in the
skins. They cling to each other, that partially solves the problem.
Now I lie here, my back against the tabby's, wondering why they are
both acting like they're cold. Maybe the he-within or the she-within
needs to play with their strings and rivers more, but I must do what I can.
My warmth can only warm one of them. The tom seems less affected, so I
can concentrate on keeping the tabby warm. I _do_ notice the tom reacts
to the tabby as he did to the she-within, at least he has good taste in
shes. I wholeheartedly agree with his assessment.
Then I hear it. Like a faint scratching coming from the thing that
separates the inside from the outside. The scratching continues. I ready
myself. The tabby and the tom worried about this possibility. Their plan
was I would flee. But I cannot abandon them. The opening occurs, no one
stands there, to my eyes. I don't have to watch the opening, I can smell
it. Scent, not like the tom or the tabby in the skins with me or anything
else I expect.
Not human! No, it is human, with many things mixed in, I think. It
moves across the floor. The sound of the floor shifting under the weight
of what it is, the smell preceding it. It moves like it is trying to
conceal itself. Humans play and hunt in the light, dark is for sleeping,
making kittens and worrying uselessly.
Or attacking the sleeping, I think, A little closer. My other form,
dredged from the he- and she-within's nightmares of cats, was completely
effective against those things that thought they could be both man and cat.
After they hurt _my_ tom . . . NOW! I change as I leap.
Maybe it is just stupid, so my claws don't go deep, five pain-filled
scratches. It screams, high-pitched, fearful. I roar to remind any
others _I_rule_here_!_ Even the walls repeat it back to me.
Feh! I think, It voided itself while running. I do _not_ want _that_
smell outside our refugee. I hope it only soiled the skins it wore, not
the floor or walls. A bat of my paw sends the dying fly outside and a
lash of my tail against the thing again separates the inside and outside.
I turn back to - _MY_ tom and tabby. The idea is too fun, like a
yipping dog that knows it's in a trap. The extra skins for keeping warm,
how about another? Thickly furred and warm of its own accord. Wrap it
around the tom and tabby. I can't restrain a purr at the thought, and how
horrified the he- and she-within will be to doing this. The idiots deserve
it, I think, All four of them. I make myself thinner, wider, more softly
furred. Wrapping carefully around them, not so tightly they can't breathe,
but tight enough, warm enough.
This is the best cuddling, I think as I settle to sleep.
----------------------------------------
Jeff woke quickly, somehow Ranko had changed to Ranma during the
night and that Ran_ma_ was hugging both Jeff and Nabiki very firmly to him,
of course their six legs had become a Gordian Knot. From his experiences
in Nerima, now would be the time some idiot would charge in. Which was
why he'd typically do something to the same idiot to make them the
laughing stock of the martial arts community as somebody who would _pick_
a time to break up romantic endeavors instead of going around back and
issuing a proper challenge letter. Being considered an insufferably
arrogant boob was worse than actually _being_ one. Being an 'enemy of
romance' was usually a death sentence.
How do I get out of this -? his thought stopped as he glanced down
and looked at Ranma's opening eyes. There was a terror there, beyond
anything he'd ever seen on the boy's face before.
Jeff removed Ranma's arm hand from his back and sat up, placing
Ranma's hand down on Nabiki's shoulders. "I'll start breakfast," he said
as he stood and walked away. He could feel the terrified gaze boring into
him. He was _not_ going to tease Ranma about this. Because I am such a
pure and noble soul, he thought as he took a pose appropriate to such
inherent nobility, Naw, because teasing Nabiki about arranging it
specifically to embarrass Ranma will be so much more fun. We still have
to find a source of income, a good one. The way Ranma and Nabiki eat,
we'll have to have plenty of cash coming in. He glance around, shivered.
And get a better place, he thought, smiled, I think I know the place. He
remembered how `Ranma` had gotten substantial cash for the Tendo-dojo and
a few of his own projects. Of course seeing Gendo with a hammer and nails,
or driving a bulldozer made it all worth it, he added.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki was feeling good, excellent in fact. It only stands to reason,
she told herself, With all the damage from the martial arts battles, it
makes sense there'd be an agency to repair the damage, rescue the victims,
and generally restore them to status quo ante. Or people would have risen
up in revolt long ago. The agency existed, officially they were the
Emperor's Service for Community Harmony, she wondered what they had done
before Nerima became the epicenter of insanity in Modern Japan, although
they had branches in Tomobiki-cho and Juban, the main offices and depot
were here. Nabiki was a buyer. Her job was to take the registry of goods
cataloged by the `listers` and find the best prices for suitable
replacements, by picking the sale, or by negotiations.
I can do that, she thought proudly, I just wish I'd paid attention to
this earlier, my salary is ten times what I ever made as a loan shark,
bookie, even though I'm effectively 'part-time' until my probation is over.
She had her `homework` assembled before her, on the brand new dining
room table. That gave her a feeling she couldn't explain. Since she was
fluent in English _and_ German, they had given her catalogs from American,
Canadian, British, German and Swiss stores and manufacturers to peruse and
come up with the best bargains. She knew it was a test, but she'd pass it,
this was her area of expertise. The Search and Rescue portion . . .
Raccoon had eagerly joined that, she couldn't bring herself to. She
shuddered again, not because of the events of July, but because of June
15th. She wasn't ready yet, not even for double the pay. And she wasn't
even going to try with the construction teams.
I bet they're still talking about Ranma and Raccoon, she thought
about Raccoon with a nail gun and Ranma with his speed and accuracy,
they'd laid out the wood for the entire frame of a house, Raccoon and his
gun set the nails where they needed to go, Ranma nailed them together,
they set the frames upright. Ranma nailed _them_ together, all in 20
minutes, all to a standard that matched the group's best carpenters. 'As
good as a job as master carpenters could do,' the master of the
construction teams had said. Ranma had been practically glowing with
delight. Then as an added ego boost: since the major reason for the teams
was the martial arts battles, much of the rescue work took place `under
fire`, the team had its own martial artists to defend the rescue workers
with their own unique styles.
And did I think `Horseface` had thoroughly wiped out the entire deal,
she remembered.
----------------------------------------
"So, you wanna spar?" Ranma asked an old, gray-haired man who was the
head of the martial arts division. The man's facelessness didn't extend
to his huge handlebar moustache, gray and waxed to sharp points. Nabiki
felt the sudden rise in tension among their soon-to-be coworkers.
"Certainly," the old man said smoothly, gestured to an open area
surrounded by dump trucks, bulldozers and other heavy construction
equipment. _Everyone_ was piling out to watch, after all, this was _the_
Ranma Saotome, the instigator of half their work in Nerima and a proximate
cause for the rest. Nabiki did note they took cover behind the heavy
equipment, some watching the battle with periscopes. Ranma bounced
eagerly from foot to foot as the old man took a ready stance.
"Ready when you are," Ranma called to his rival.
"I have already begun," the old man replied with a smirking tone.
Ranma instantly took a defensive stance, and waited. So did the old
man. And waited. And waited. Ranma feinted left. And waited, and
waited, etc., etc.
Nabiki noted Raccoon collected a handful of pens from the cup near
the tool crib.
"Excuse me!" He waited until he had both combatants' attention, then
launched one pen at Ranma, who dodged; and the rest singly and in pairs,
at the old man and Ranma. The old man exploded into motion. Some
projectiles he blocked, some he caught to hurl back to intercept others.
Thirty pens thrown with Raccoon's accuracy, not one even touched Ranma, or
the old man if he wasn't knocking them down himself. Raccoon gave the man
a polite bow. Ranma was looking at the man strangely.
Oh no, here's where he blows it, goodbye better life, Saotome
foot-in-mouth disease is going to get us tossed out of here on our ears,
she lamented.
"Can you stop bullets with that technique?" Ranma asked, "If you
can't, I'm sure Raccoon here can whip up a buckler or target shield that
would let you keep an area bullet proof."
The old man stared at Ranma with his curious expression, the tips of
his moustache twitching. Nabiki held her breath. Suddenly the man burst
out laughing. Raccoon and especially Ranma, had the good sense to join in.
----------------------------------------
"I should have known," Nabiki said, "Why is it in a Great Old One's
nightmare, Ranma can catch a break, but back `home` he couldn't with both
hands and a catcher's mitt?" Ranma's question made it clear he wanted to
help, he wanted to learn. His dodging protected _him_ completely, but was
useless for the area defense work that the job required. The old man, and
the other martial artists wanted to learn Ranma's speed technique in
response to learning their defense techniques, Ranma was in Heaven.
One of the masters asked Ranma how he could be so calm with 'Jefuri'
shooting nails around him, Nabiki remembered and remembered Ranma's eager
smile, ''Jefuri' shoots skeet with a Government .45, he doesn't miss . . .
ever,' Ranma told them, then demonstrated his 'transformation.' Nabiki
was curious when it had stopped being his 'curse'. Instead of the lustful
advance that would have been typical, these people talked about the
advantages and disadvantages of each side.
Then Nabiki frowned and pounded the table. "And _AGAIN_!_ The
universe found some excuse that Raccoon didn't see it!" she shouted in
protest at the perversity of it all.
Maybe the two of them arranged it on purpose, that thought broke her
bad mood instantly, she chuckled. "Who am I kidding?" She sighed, they
had jobs, friends, a reason for being and staying together. `Ranko` had
collected Raccoon to celebrate, Nabiki had begged off. She had something
else she'd wanted to do. A bit of self-flagellation, self-torture, she
knew neither Ranma nor Raccoon would understand, nor would they have
approved. They might even have tried to stop her. So she hadn't told
them.
She'd arrived outside the Tendo homestead, and breathed in the
delicious aroma of Kasumi's cooking, tempura, miso soup, daikon, pickles:
all carried on the breeze, the most delicious perfume. All of it denied to
Nabiki forever. She had remained as long as she dared, then returned home
to a dinner of cup ramen, Raccoon's pickles and an apple, a rare treat
from her youth, now she could afford one every day if she wanted one. It
was getting late, and she was getting worried. She'd been on a couple of
`dates` with Ranma and Raccoon, fairly somber affairs, mainly educating
Ranma on the intricacies of good manners. And with Raccoon and Ranko,
where Nabiki was the wet-blanket spoiling their fun.
Considering the number of `dates` Ranma took _any_ of his fiancees on,
I guess I should be flattered they keep asking me, she thought. But the
trio _always_ returned late, So I guess they're no later than the three of
us would be, I'm just lonelier, she thought.
----------------------------------------
The knock on the door brought Nabiki up out of the catalogs and her
pages of notes.
Ranma and Raccoon wouldn't knock, she thought as she headed towards
the door.
The apparition waiting was only recognizable in one aspect. It
carried Raccoon's walking stick held out as if offering it. The
facelessness Nabiki was _almost_ used to. From top to bottom the girl was
a mess, she knew in Nerima clothes and hairstyle rarely defined the true
gender. The reddish hair stood out like a fright wig, bits were still
smoldering. The ribbons that had once held it were crumbled up crunchy
bits. The costume looked like a leotard but the lace and fake skirt
eliminated Kodachi more than the hair color had. Her feet had an old-
style lace up boots that were in fashion at the turn of the century. The
girl looked like she was standing in a pool of metal that had been frozen
in mid-boil. The whole body tic was disconcerting. The girl cleared her
throat and raised the stick. "Azusa-chan is - " The tics became more
frequent and violent. "Azusa _wants_," the emphasis was almost painful to
hear. " - to return Constance to this place." The tic which had
partially subsided now grew worse again. "To its owner. And an apology
for borr - for take - for stealing it."
Nabiki could almost see the tears streaming down the girl's face, but
after the P-chan incident, Nabiki had no sympathy, although she would have
left 'P-chan' to Azusa's tender mercies. But she could get a small
measure of revenge for the trouble Azusa-`chan` had caused. "Please put
Constance on the breakfast bar." Nabiki could almost see the girl's
pleading eyes. She wanted to be rid of the thing.
Azusa bowed her head. "Of course." She tried to lift her foot, then
stepped off the metal plate with her other foot, and followed with the
foot attached to the plate.
The molten and cooled remnants of her skates, Nabiki realized, I'll
ask Raccoon and Ranko how they liked skating. When they get back.
The girl carefully, reverently, placed the walking stick down.
"It's very beautiful, isn't it?" Nabiki asked.
The girl started to nod, then - "AIEEHHH!" Clunk-stomp, clunk-stomp,
clunk- stomp retreated into the distance. Nabiki gazed down at the dark
wood, brass ball and hand guard and the dark-blue cord that made up the
handgrip. Maybe it was the place and her growing experience in reading
emotions in the faceless, but she was _certain_ the cane was smirking.
"That was very cruel," she told it, "I didn't say she didn't deserve
it, I just said it was cruel." Nabiki shook her head about talking to a
walking stick. She closed the door and returned to her `homework`,
determined to impress her new employers with her thoroughness and cunning.
----------------------------------------
Asuka saw the horizon shifting violently. She tried to stabilize and
ended up stumbling. Intellectually she realized she was hallucinating,
but it seemed so real.
Dehydration had become a serious problem. She wasn't sweating and
she hadn't urinated, so she didn't know where the water in her body had
gone. But lying there, she could recognize the symptoms. Her stomach
complained loudly at the demands placed on it without eating anything for
days, or what seemed like days. It could have been weeks for all she knew.
Her attempt to rise triggered a series of cramps as her muscles
joined the protest.
It's not easy being green, she thought about her surroundings, green
as grass.
In a little farther the hue would change slightly. The transition
between colors had been very much sharper than the changes within the
colors.
Asuka considered just why she had kept moving instead of staying put.
Maybe I'm stupid and stubborn, she thought, I didn't even consider it.
She rested a long while, lying there on the ground which wasn't as
soft as grass. Asuka let the muscles uncramp, let the horizon settle down.
If the floor was grass, she thought, It would be better. Some bread
and cool water would be even better environment than that. She raised her
head to look around, and the horizon went back to shifting. Well, if I
can't walk, that doesn't mean I can't move, she thought as she got up on
her hands and knees and continued to move. At least my feet get a rest,
she thought as she crawled onward.
----------------------------------------
Still Falls The Rain - Dark As The World Of Man
It was raining, again. Ranma sat on the windowsill and stared out at
the rain. The rain made him sad, but it also meant that he would have a
quiet day. They'd been here almost four months, since it was just a dream,
he knew he wouldn't have to worry about how much time passed in the `real
world`. He had no real worries lately. They had a larger apartment, a
relatively reliable source of money and challenges. The battles between
and among the martial artists required extensive repairs. The entire
repair team was composed of three different groups. The normal `fast`
construction teams, he and Raccoon worked there, on a part time basis.
With Raccoon's accuracy and his - her - speed, they could do the framing
for a house in a few minutes, leaving the experts for the delicate work,
which typically happened.
The Search and rescue aspect was Raccoon's specialty, and he was
utterly fearless. He'd go into places even Ranma felt apprehensive about,
and got people to safely. Raccoon explained it away for Ranma by talking
about his AT field. Of course Nab-chan worked with the logistics end,
sending teams where they were most needed, making sure the supplies that
were needed arrived, and that people got their stuff back.
Nab-chan still couldn't bring herself to work in SAR. No one blamed
her. Ranma often wanted to join the battle, instead he remembered his
training and his duty. He often acted as `point defense` for construction
and rescue teams, keeping the martial arts attacks/weapons, and in some
cases combatants from reaching the construction and rescue crews. He was
proud of his successes. Yes, he had many challenges, respect of his
teachers/coworkers and the affection of both his roommates. He smirked at
that, the few times they'd tried to sleep in separate places, the 'other'
would physically drag them together. Nothing had occurred except nervous
sleeping and cuddling, but that wasn't the point. Even the weirdos hadn't
found him, or her, at home or work. No one interfered, no one forced them
to be anything except together.
Once or twice the Nerimaniacs had located Ranma/Ranko with Nab-chan
or Raccoon. 'Ranma prepare to - BWEEEH!', 'Airen - meorw', 'Ranma for your
- QUACK!' 'Ranma you pervert I - ' poof/blam (depending on who shot
first). 'Delinquent - ' poof. 'Ungrateful - Growf.' 'Pigtailed - '
poof/blam (ditto). 'Foul sorcerer - ' KRZAPT ' - sor - cer - er' clunk
(always Raccoon he _hates_ being called a sorcerer).
What bothered Ranma most was what the activities of these `honorable
martial artists` said about martial arts. A typhoon didn't cause the
damage their battles did. A week didn't go by when the rescue teams
weren't called out. Few people lasted as long as the three of them had.
The crushing helplessness of it made you cynical, or you would attack one
of the martial artists and become part of the problem. So the team
members were rotated out at the first signs of such stress, some to one of
the other stations, or a paid leave of absence.
Ranma understood this was all a punishment visited on them by an
alien force. The explanation didn't eliminate the creeping guilt and
anger he felt. Of course the destroyed property was replaced, but the
heirlooms, pictures, memories all were destroyed and couldn't _be_
replaced, but that didn't seem to matter to the combatants. Although, the
teams did their best. He knew he could stop them, stop all of them. With
Raccoon to back him up, or just release Raccoon from Ranko's promise, it
would stop them forever. But that wasn't allowed, murder was still murder.
They didn't kill. Drop a house on someone, that someone crawled out. The
people around here could soak up that kind of punishment.
With one notable exception. Ranma remembered the look of horror on
the face of the combatants when they smeared Raccoon all over the pavement.
Of course _he_ took it in stride after he recovered. Although Raccoon had
stealthily delivered 50 kilos of red gelatin cubes with bits of offal in
them to each of his `murderers'` bedrooms. Even 10 km away, they had
heard the screams and laughed about it. All three of them.
But yesterday it wasn't one of the crazies, Ranma thought about the
leave he'd been placed on, Ranma closed his eyes, Guys don't cry, guys
don't cry! Yesterday it had been a kindergarten. Ranma neither knew nor
cared why 'the Phoenix Prince' decided to incinerate the building. Logic
never seemed to apply. The SAR team had rushed in, got everybody out, not
a single loss. Ranma and everyone else had let themselves get distracted
and a kid wandered back in. Raccoon noticed first and rushed back into
the smoke and flames to get the kid out. Ranma wasn't worried, Raccoon
had a skill finding people and his magic and AT field meant Raccoon would
emerge unscathed from the flames.
Maybe the kid's death rattle of 'Rosebud' was supposed to be funny.
It wasn't funny to Ranma, he'd wanted to kill the arrogant bastard who
suddenly realized a bunch of 'worms' had spoiled his fun, and brought the
SAR teams under fire, literally. Raccoon had tackled Ranma to keep him
out of the fight. But Ranma had been beyond reasoning, beyond any attempt
to explain or cajole. He wanted to kill the arrogant punk and was going
to go through whatever was in his way. Raccoon's blood and bone was the
only thing in the way.
Ranma hadn't killed him, he'd recover . . . Eventually, Ranma thought,
How long that eventually is . . . that worried Ranma. He'd never lost
his temper that way, never lashed out at a friend to get at an enemy.
Raccoon would undoubtedly forgive him. The rest of the team understood,
it had happened to every single one of them, they all made sure to tell
him that. So Ranma was on paid leave, an enforced vacation. If the rains
kept up, he wouldn't be needed. But instead of being happy that Raccoon
survived, Ranma only felt ashamed. Some of the worst martial artist
offenders had disappeared. It didn't take a genius to figure out who
`disappeared` them, why and how. But that was Raccoon's way, if he had to
defend the people, he'd defend the people. The ones who never threatened
anyone outside their circle were safe, those that only hurt other
combatants were safe. Like me, Ranma thought. The ones who reveled in
collateral damage didn't last. It shamed martial arts and martial artists.
It shamed him, then _he_ brought shame to martial arts in one unguarded
moment.
The 'other' had been bugging him about 'kittens', Ranma wondered if
it might be time to do something he'd always thought was unacceptable,
even alien to his nature. Agree with the 'other', and become a mother.
Ranko could propose to Raccoon, make the leave of absence unpaid and
permanent, maybe figure out a way to open a school to run when the
children were at school. Teach potential martial artists not just the
skills but the responsibilities and ethics of the martial arts. Live up
to those responsibilities and ethics himself.
Ranma squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling.
He couldn't ask the others. Raccoon would say he was making too much of
it, and Nab-chan seemed terrified of the idea of motherhood, for many of
the reasons Asuka worried them about. Nab-chan wanted a career, she liked
fighting as much as Ranma did, but she wanted to fight in the boardroom
rather than in the streets or arenas. Ranma also could see the joy the
others on the construction crew felt when they built something, when they
remade a home. The way he felt when . . . it was ironic that he could
access a whole other way of `building` something, something that mattered,
something that would last longer then the temporary construction in and
around Nerima where everything except feuds were transitory and life went
on out of sheer inertia. Just because the deeply flawed people who
battled eternally here didn't want to accept the final conclusion, and
seemed equally unwilling to accept the facts that deaths, growth, change
and advancement all entailed hard choices. That didn't mean he was like
them. He could do a lot worse than a family life.
He decided he'd never return here, if the reality was anything like
this, he had _nothing_ in common with these people. He'd seen and done
too much to simply ignore the cost of his actions, his inactions and his
failure to act properly.
The other thing that Ranma was extremely worried about was the repair
of Nab-chan's ki flaws. The second treatment had brought Raccoon back to
normal, he'd thought at the time that he'd managed to fix Nab-chan too.
Less than a week later, the problems returned. The 'other' `smelled` them
before Ranma detected them through casual contact. He suspected one
reason for the 'other' to insist on all of them sleeping together was that
the flaws were easiest to detect while she was deeply asleep. The
treatments were fortunately getting further and further between.
He and Raccoon also figured out the sudden grave chills Nab-chan got
while she slept, while she seemed to be covered with sweat. It took all
the warmth Ranma/Ranko and Raccoon could generate by body, magic and ki to
break the chill. More frightening was Raccoon's assertion that is wasn't
sweat covering Nab-chan during these episodes, it was sea water.
Ranko and Raccoon had discussed this strange place, that only Nab-
chan really liked being here. Ranma could be comfortable anywhere, ditto
Raccoon. Despite everything, Nab-chan _wanted_ to be here.
The two of them dreaded that the reason for the scenario and
Nab-chan's `illness` was that Nab-chan was the main target, the other
pilots were hit as a side-effect. The two anchors for Nab-chan, to
prevent her from getting kicked off this plane of existence, were him and
Raccoon, so they held her back and prevented her from being destroyed.
Their combined `inertia` landed the trio here, and since Nab-chan was the
target, she'd been the most damaged by the transition. Raccoon more so
because of his proximity, Ranma effectively came along for the ride. All
in all it made sense. It also bothered Ranma that either Nab-chan had
reached out to him, or he'd reached out to her to prevent her from being
killed. He would have done it in a fight, but to `volunteer` while she
was on the other side of the world . . . and all it meant about how he
felt about her and how she felt about him, or both. It really worried him.
They'd avoided serious entanglements with any of his previous
paramours, sometimes only by strenuous effort, usually by trickery. Ranma
still couldn't believe what worked on these people. The agency's reports
let him read about their activities, and he felt sorry for them.
Of course the suggestion I get them all together to discuss things,
he remembered the screaming match that had ignited, Then they didn't
accept my statement I wouldn't do it. They chained me to a bulldozer for
three days, under constant guard. While they fed him, gave him bathroom
breaks, the rest of the time was a recitation of what fiance(e) destroyed
what building, destroyed how much property over what insult: cooking,
sewing, cuteness, bust size, ability to bear children.
Sitting there in the bulldozer scoop, listening to Raccoon's long
medical explanation was bad enough, Ranma thought, Under extreme, regular
physical exertion, a woman would stop having her menstruation altogether,
or it would become erratic. No menstruation, probably no kids. Ranma was
shocked that evidently, some of his `fiancees` fell into that category.
So much of their body's reserves were called upon for battle, the body
quit `wasting` effort to produce the next generation, since the effort
would reduce the chance of this generation surviving.
Knowing how important `kittens` are to the 'other', Ranma thought, I
can imagine how _that_ argument could escalate out of all control. He'd
kept any ideas about solving these people's problems strictly as insights
into the nature of these people from then on, it was safer that way.
Unfortunately it also gave him a clear view into the dark aspects of
his own pride. It was not a good reflection of him nor on him. He could
see why Nab-chan and Raccoon had reacted so violently to the suggestion.
Why Asuka, Mein Grosfeldmarschall, and Raccoon held `honor` in such low
esteem.
People who really have it, don't talk about it, he thought, They
cloak it in as duty, 'doing the right thing', into responsibility, and
other words. He couldn't imagine Raccoon or Asuka fighting a duel that
took out a dozen city blocks, even if they fought it in their EVAs.
"But that's what puts a roof over my head, food on the table and
clothes on my back," he said, most of the rest of his pay went to various
charities to help the victims. Although everyone told him the battles
would have happened anyway, he, and she, was just an excuse. He still
felt responsible, the only part of him that really craved ease and comfort,
found it every night with its two favorite cuddle-toys.
He did understand if he should announce a wedding to anyone, he
should have the entire Self Defense Force, ashore, airborne and afloat set
up a gauntlet to run these people through. It was a dark thought for a
dark night like this one. The alternative was withdraw the request he -
she'd - made of Raccoon that first day. He could eliminate the problems
quickly enough.
That wouldn't be the - 'other' - among the pigeons, that would be
throwing the pigeons straight into a chipper/shredder. The idea was to
survive until the dream ended, not slaughter a bunch of people who hadn't
been as life-threatening to his two friends as he had.
Then he frowned about it, felt the tears make another sortie. Until
yesterday, when they might have been of use, then they were pathetic, he
thought, They only made the little brat angry. The battle still haunted
him. A god, or so he claimed to be, was exactly the kind of thing the EVA
pilots should be fighting: slavers, murderers, people destroying those
`lesser` than them out of sheer `fun` of it. Instead what he fought
didn't care about people, their lives, their cities, even when you were
killing them they only felt astonishment. He wished he could have faced
the phoenix in Unit 04, it would have made him feel cleaner.
"I could have taken that punk without Unit 04, or if I'd calmed down,
listened, then Raccoon and I would have taken him later," he said, "But I
didn't listen, wouldn't wait. Our _job_ was rescuing those people, not
fighting the menace. Bore him and make him go away. _Then_ hunt him down
and take him at a time and place of our choosing. But I didn't _do_
that."
He regretted it, but he often acted in haste and it gave him long
periods alone to regret his rashness.
----------------------------------------
Asuka fell. All her determination, all her desire couldn't make her
rise again. She'd made it as far as blue. Red and orange hadn't been bad,
in yellow her thirst began to bother her, there was nothing she had here
except herself. The hunger pangs had been bad, but she was used to cramps.
The effects of dehydration had grown increasingly difficult to ignore.
Even crawling, she'd started stumbling repeatedly as the floor and the
ceiling shifted suddenly. Her palms and knees were inflamed and raw where
they'd repeatedly touched the floor.
Now she lay on the blue floor, surrounded by the blue `sky`, and the
blue walls. She wasn't thinking `blue` thoughts, she wasn't resting to
make another effort. Not moving eased the pain to a dull ache, now lying
on the ground told her the jittering horizon was in her mind.
She closed her eyes to prevent the incipient motion sickness. I do
not need to throw up, I feel bad enough as it is, she thought.
"Okay," she croaked through cracked lips, "What am I supposed to do?
Pray?" This is just a dream, she thought, I'm just going to wake up. She
was worried that it wouldn't be the way out.
The tread of something heavy caught her attention. She couldn't even
raise her head to look, but the huge violet object walked around into her
field of view.
Unit 02, an odd violet in the blue light. She'd heard rumors that
the purple monster, Unit 01, moved on its own. Unit 02 was too 'well-
mannered' for that. It reached down towards her, picking her up so gently.
She couldn't reach out her hands to her `old friend`. It's manner
reminded her of her mutti.
"I have come to help you." She heard from the EVA's speakers.
"Wondergirl?!" she croaked desperately, "You aren't - "