If he did all those horrible things to them, what would he do to
my Shampoo? She thought.
She suppressed a shudder.
The table was silent.
Cologne looked up. The twins
were staring at the table’s surface, their eyes glazed over as they saw the
things they had just described again in their minds.
Cologne felt sorry for them. Eventually
everyone gets exposed to death, it was inevitable, but for ones so young to see
death in such an unbelievably brutal form was almost as great a tragedy as the
deaths themselves. It was a death
of innocence more than anything.
Shampoo was taking it slightly better, but
only because she still couldn’t quite understand what was going on.
Her face had turned a sickly shade of white as she heard the twins
recount their tale, but since no one had told her exactly what was going on,
she couldn’t be sure.
Cologne decided there would be enough time
to tell her later. “How did all
this happen?” she asked quietly.
Lin-Lin and Lan-Lan looked up at the same
time and glanced at each other once before continuing.
Lan-Lan nodded to Lin-Lin.
“It was about four months ago, Elder,” she
started. “An outsider came to the
village. Everyone thought it
would be fun playing with him, and Mei-Yin stepped in first to challenge him.”
She licked her lips. “She
was just talking to him, when he said something and Mei-Yin finally recognized
him.” She leaned forward.
“It was Mu Tzu.”
Shampoo gasped.
“What? How…?”
Cologne cut her off with a raised hand and
motioned for the younger girl to continue.
“He moved real close to her and whispered something in her ear.
Then a bunch of smoke came out of nowhere and he was gone,” she
finished, throwing her arms wide to better convey the amount of smoke that was
produced.
Lan-Lan took over.
“He came back around sunset. He
was in his house, I think, to collect some things.
We were waiting for him.”
Lan-Lan took a drink of water from a
nearby cup. “We had many of our
warriors surrounding his house, but he didn’t seem worried.
When we attacked him…” she shuddered.
Cologne waited patiently to go on.
“When we attacked him, he used these… things… to fight us.
I think they were called guns. Each
time he would use one, another of our sisters fell.”
She shook her head. “We’ve
never seen anything like it before. We
were frightened, and he fell upon us in our confusion.
Many of our warriors fell before we could pull together again, but by
that time, he knew he was outmatched and fled for the forest.”
She bit her bottom lip. “He
killed the Elders at night. We
couldn’t protect them.”
She looked ready to start crying again
when Cologne laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Do not worry about it, child. There
is no shame in being defeated by one such as he.
Now go on upstairs the both of you.
There is a bath and you can sleep in one of the rooms.”
The twins bowed in grateful relief to her
and trudged wearily upstairs. Cologne
had never seen those two so fatigued, in body or soul.
“Grandmother?”
Cologne closed her eyes. Now
came the hard part.
“Yes, child?”
“Is it true?
Did Mu Tzu really do those things?”
Cologne sighed.
“Yes. It
was Mu Tzu.”
Silence.
“When did you talk to him?”
“Just now.
The boy in the strange clothes. That
was him.”
Cologne heard a gasp and the sound of a
bowl shattering on the floor.
“But grandmother, you said Mu Tzu was
dead…?”
Cologne sighed again.
She could either tell her the truth or she could continue giving her the
half-truths she had fed her all those years ago.
Elders couldn’t outright lie, but sometimes the rules could be bent.
She made her choice.
“You’re right, I said Mu Tzu was dead.
But he’s not, as you have already seen.”
“But why, Grandmother?” Shampoo pleaded.
Cologne took in a deep breath.
Here goes. “After you left
on your training trip, Mu Tzu changed. He
became very violent and was a danger to us all.
And when he lost his parents, he finally came undone.
We banished him from the village forever.
It was a death sentence, I know, but he had already hurt so many.
He even killed two in a ‘hunting accident.’
We never thought he would return alive.
I’m sorry, Granddaughter. I
know he was your friend.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!” Shampoo
said, that same pleading note in her voice.
“He didn’t recognize me at all!”
“Time passes and people change, Shampoo,”
Cologne said patiently. “He may
not recognize you because you’ve grown up so much.
You two hadn’t seen each other since you were five, and you didn’t
recognize him.”
“But, still…” Shampoo started.
Her face took a determined look. “I’m
going to find him. I’m going to
make him remember who he is and who…”
“No, you must not!” Cologne almost
shouted, whirling around on her staff. Shampoo
took an involuntary step back. “You
must not go anywhere near him. He
is very dangerous, he has already killed all of my sisters, and they were far
more powerful than you, not to mention many of our warriors.
If he thinks you’re trying to trick him, he won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“But…”
“No buts.
Now promise me you won’t go near him.”
“I…”
“Promise!”
“Okay… I promise.”
Cologne visibly relaxed on her staff,
relief washing over her. At least she
could count on her granddaughter not to get herself killed.
However, even that was small comfort knowing that he could seek her out
at anytime. Not that Cologne would
allow that. He had already taken
too much from her. It ends here.
***
He knew what they would say if they ever
found out. That was stupid.
That was really stupid. No,
it was more than stupid. It was stupid.
And Mousse couldn’t figure out why he did that himself.
Advertising his presence to an enemy was the biggest mistake anyone in
his situation could make. The
Elders were far too powerful to fight head on, so he always used the advantages
of surprise and superior weaponry to the fullest.
Even so, the last two times he barely survived the confrontations, even
when the fights were on his terms. But
he did survive, and he did win, thanks especially to his trump card…
As if on cue, he stumbled forward as pain
ripped through his body. He
propped himself up against a nearby wall and brought his hand to his mouth as
the taste of blood flooded it. Every
muscle in his body was contracting painfully, causing him to hunch over, and
his insides felt like they were on fire. The
pain raged for a moment and then vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Mousse stood up shakily.
He looked at his gloved hand and found blood.
He wiped it on his pants and used the back of his hand to wipe the blood
from his mouth. The drug was
beginning to catch up to him. There
wasn’t even a warning to the attack this time.
Mousse spit as he walked, trying to get
the taste out of his mouth. The
drug’s side effects were finally taking their toll on him, leaving him
considerably weaker than before he first started.
The attacks were coming more and more frequently, and now there wasn’t
even a warning before they struck. It
wouldn’t be long before he was in no shape to even think about fighting
Cologne, if he hadn’t already reached that point.
Sudden weariness drowned out the
frustration he was feeling at the possibility of not being able to complete his
task. He knew hunger would soon
follow, so he searched for the nearest restaurant.
It didn’t take long before he found one.
Mousse looked up at the large sign hanging
over a small building that simply read Ucchan’s.
If it weren’t for the delicious smell of frying okonomiyaki wafting out
from inside he wouldn’t have known it was a restaurant.
He breathed in the scent deeply.
It had been a long time since he last had okonomiyaki.
His smile twisted into a grimace as faint, but sharp, hunger pangs cut
through his stomach. He
knew they were only a promise of what was to come if he didn’t eat something
quick.
***
It was a slow day at Ucchan’s.
Ukyo sighed in boredom as she flipped her spatula over and over in her
hand. All the customers had already
been served and no new ones were coming in.
She glanced over at her waiter/waitress Konatsu.
Even the abnormally perky male kunoichi looked bored.
She considered telling him to do something, anything, so he could earn
his keep, but she remembered how little she actually paid him.
Maybe she should start a delivery service.
She mulled the thought over in her mind
when someone walked in. She stood
up immediately and was about to greet her new customer, but paused when she got
a good look at him. He was
intimidating, wearing all that black, and he moved with the fluid grace of a
fighter. But when Konatsu, eager
to wait on him, greeted him at the door, the stranger started and took a step
back. He almost looked like he
was about to leave, but then seemed to sigh in resignation and allowed the
kunoichi to seat him in front of Ukyo. She
could see his eyes widen behind his tinted spectacles when he saw the huge
combat spatula strapped to her back.
“What’ll you have, sugar?” she asked.
He didn’t answer immediately, but kept his
eyes on the monster of a spatula she always kept on her.
“You do know there’s a giant spatula on
your back, don’t you?” he asked.
Ukyo clenched her teeth.
We got a live one here. “Yes,
I do know there’s a giant spatula on my back.
Would you like to order now?”
He nodded.
“Then you also know that your waitress is actually a guy, right?”
Ukyo almost dropped her spatula in
surprise. That anyone could tell
the transvestite ninja was actually male by just looking was incredible.
“Shh, quiet!” she hissed.
She looked at the other customers to see if anyone overheard.
It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone thought she hired perverts.
“Yes, I know that too. Now
could you order something please?”
The stranger bowed his head.
“Of course, I’m sorry for being so rude.
Could I have a pepper beef okonomiyaki with a kimchi side?”
Ukyo blinked.
At least he’s polite. “Sorry,
but we don’t have any kimchi. Is
there anything else you would like instead?”
“You have wasabi sauce?”
“Yeah we have that.
Will that be all?”
The stranger’s face twisted into an
expression of pain. “Yeah, that’s all,” he said hoarsely.
Ukyo watched in concern as he leaned
forward on his seat, clutching his stomach.
“Are you alright, sugar?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” he gasped.
He lifted his head and smiled weakly.
“I guess I’m just really hungry.”
Ukyo nodded slowly.
“Right. I’ll go get your
order ready then,” she said, and began mixing the batter.
Ukyo stole quick glances at her customer
while the okonomiyaki was cooking. He
seemed to be better now, and was staring intently at the frying food.
He was handsome in a way, even if she didn’t like longhaired men, and
the silvery ornaments tied in a single lock was a nice touch.
But of course he was nowhere near as handsome as her Ranchan.
A thought occurred to her as she placed
the finished okonomiyaki on a plate for him.
He could be another martial artist trying to fight Ranchan.
Not that it would matter anyway, because Ranchan never lost.
But if he was good…
“Mm, this is good!”
Ukyo looked up to see him grinning widely
after swallowing a mouthful of pepper beef okonomiyaki.
“This is the best okonomiyaki I’ve ever
had!” he continued, biting into another mouthful of Japanese pizza.
“I mean this is really, really good!”
Ukyo blushed slightly at the compliments,
and then stared in shock as he finished it with incredible speed.
His hands were blurring as he ate.
When he was finished he held out his plate.
“Seconds?”
Ukyo nodded and fixed another okonomiyaki,
which he ate even faster than the last one.
By the time he was finished, eight okonomiyaki had disappeared, eaten
faster than she could cook them. She
had only seen her Ranchan eat that fast.
Her customer leaned back and sighed in
relief, his eyes closed. Ukyo
cleared her throat. Maybe she
could find out why he was here.
“I’ve never seen you before, sugar.
You new here?”
He opened his eyes.
“Yes, I just flew in recently from Korea.
You must be Ucchan, right? My
name is Mousse.”
Ukyo couldn’t help smiling at his name.
“Moo-suh? Mousse?
You’re named after a hair care product?”
Instead of being insulted, Mousse only
smiled back. “Well, actually I…”
He frowned suddenly. “You hear
something?”
She followed his gaze as he twisted around
to look out the windows. She
sighed as she saw Happosai, founder and grand master of the Anything Goes
School of Martial Arts, bouncing along as he carried a large bundle of lingerie.
And following closely behind were the infuriated owners of that lingerie.
The old pervert was at it pretty early today.
Suddenly Ranma and Akane appeared to block the old pervert’s way.
Ranchan! Ukyo was about to jump over the counter when she remembered
her customer, who was looking at what was happening in shock.
He was definitely new here.
“Sorry sugar, but I gotta go,” she said
hurriedly. “We’ll have to talk
later.”
He nodded slowly without looking at her,
mouth slightly open as he watched the carnage that was unfolding.
Ukyo looked at him for a moment more
before deciding he would be okay and ran as quickly as she could toward the
door. Ranchan might need her
help.
***
Mousse watched in a sort of horror as a
one foot tall, shriveled old man dressed in a ninja suit ran by carrying a
cloth sack larger than he was, being chased by a horde of angry young women
carrying brooms, mops, and other cleaning tools.
Then, Ranma and a shorthaired girl wielding a huge mallet appeared in
front of him, only to disappear in a cloud of smoke as the old man threw what
looked like an old-fashioned fuse bomb at them.
He was barely aware of Ucchan saying something about leaving, before she
ran out the door to join the fray. That
he couldn’t hear anything that was happening from behind the door and windows
only added to its surreal quality.
Mousse groaned.
Suddenly, all those okonomiyaki he ate weren’t settling too well.
The transvestite waitress walked up to him, smiling amiably.
Now they really weren’t settling well.
“Will that be all, sir?” he asked.
Mousse nodded quickly and stood up.
He pulled out a ten thousand yen note and laid it on the counter, and
handed another to the waiter.
“You got a back way I could use?” he
asked.
The waiter’s eyes widened at the generous
tip he received and bowed his thanks. “Yes
we do, please follow me.”
Outside, Mousse leaped to the top of the
building and made his way as quickly as could out of Nerima, jumping from roof
to roof. The fighting was over
with, leaving the street with an eerie quiet.
This was possibly the weirdest place he had ever been to.
Not quite Alice in Wonderland weird, but close.
He didn’t think he could take another minute in that place without
feeling that the weirdness had somehow rubbed off on him.
He stumbled slightly as another attack hit
him, and barely stopped at the edge of the roof before falling off.
He held his breath until the pain subsided.
Apparently the attacks weren’t giving him warnings anymore.
He knew he needed to rest.
Four months of constant travel, tracking, fighting, and killing was
catching up to him. And he had
used full doses of the drug twice in that four month period, far more than what
was considered safe by anyone. But
he was so close. Cologne was
there, and when she was dead, it would all be over.
After that, all that’s left would be to take care of the rest of the
Amazons, and without the protection of their elders, they would be easy prey.
He sighed continued on his way out of
Nerima toward his hotel. I
guess a month or two of rest and relaxation couldn’t hurt.
I still have time, and I can’t fight Cologne like this.
Besides, it’s not like she knows where to find me.
I’ll wait, and plan my next move later.
Part VI
The boy stared blankly at the wall, jaw slack and eyes
glazed. Ku Lon was unconcerned.
The Xi Fan Xiao technique usually left its victims like this for a time.
She tucked away the memory erasing herbal mixture back on the shelf.
She was careful in wrapping the delicate rice paper cover over the top.
Even breathing in the fumes would cause memory loss.
She looked back at the boy. He
was still stunned.
Ku Lon didn’t want it to come to this, but
the boy had simply become too much of a nuisance for her to handle anymore.
Ever since her great-granddaughter was sent away for five-year training
journey all heirs to the position of Elder must take, the boy had become
increasingly agitated. He
tried to run after her numerous times, and it got to the point where he was
forbidden from even getting close to the village boundaries.
Even so, he had to be escorted five times back to his home under armed
guard.
She snorted.
The boy’s infatuation was disgusting to say the least.
Running around blindly, crying ‘Xian Pu!’, and demanding to know where
she was taken. The Elder finally
got fed up with the entire thing. The
memory erasure was only temporary, but it should give them a while of respite
from the boy’s annoying antics. Using
such a technique on a child was highly dangerous, and forbidden in all but the
most dire of circumstances, but still a far more painless alternative to what
the other Elders suggested.
Hopping closer, she studied the catatonic
boy. She could see he was going
to be quite handsome when he came of age, having inherited the best features
from both parents. Others noticed
this as well; she would often hear talk from the warriors about the young boys
and which one would braid his hair for one of them first.
Mu Tzu’s name came up more than once.
It is a shame his mother is an outsider, it has made him weak and
sightless. If his fool father had
simply married within the village the boy would probably not have such a hard
time with the other children and most likely already have been promised to
another, perhaps even her own great-granddaughter.
Marriage to the heir of the only Hidden Weapons Style in existence would
be a tempting offer for the parent of any young girl of the village, if only
that heir were not so weak. But
the way things are at least he would make a pretty husband for a warrior if not
a strong one.
The boy stirred.
She stood in front of him on her staff, carefully scrutinizing his face
for anything that may indicate damage. She
sighed in some relief at finding nothing.
“Mu Tzu?
Are you awake?”
The boy blinked slowly and looked at the
Elder, wiping some drool from his chin with a billowing sleeve of his robe.
The uniform of his father’s school of combat.
She never understood why he insisted on wearing it when he only a
dabbler in the art that was his birthright.
He was so caught up with Xian Pu he never had time to seriously train.
She narrowed her eyes.
Something was strange about the boy, something in his eyes.
Not that he was able to see, he was still quite blind, but the frantic,
obsessive energy and passion she found in no one else as young as he was
completely snuffed out, replaced by an empty detachedness.
She always wondered what it would be like if he turned that drive toward
his art.
“Yes?” he asked softly.
Ku Lon wondered briefly if wiping his
memory clear of her great-granddaughter could have caused such a change, or if
she had somehow made a mistake while carrying out the technique.
“Are you feeling alright, Mu Tzu?” she
asked. “You wandered in here and
bumped your head.” He only looked
at her with lifeless eyes. “Well,
you seem to be better now,” she continued, meeting his gaze evenly.
“Next time be sure to keep your glasses on your head where they can do
you some good.”
“Yes Elder, thank you for sharing you
wisdom with me,” he replied in a respectful, empty monotone.
He slipped his coke-bottle glasses over his eyes, which now focused on
her own. “May I leave?”
“Yes, of course, child,” she said.
“Go home now, you don’t want to worry your father.”
He nodded slowly once, like in a dream,
before leaving. The child stood
unsteadily at first, and almost slipped, but quickly regained his balance.
He looked down at his legs as if seeing them for the first time.
He then raised his hands to eye level and stared at them for a moment,
turning them around to examine them like they were something totally new to him.
His eyes rose to meet Ku Lon’s. She
saw something else there. Curiosity.
Ku Lon remained perched on her staff,
pondering over what she witnessed. It
was common knowledge that if certain memories were wiped out, drastic
personality changes may occur, but she never believed Mu Tzu would be affected
so dramatically. Perhaps what the
boy felt for Xian Pu wasn’t just mere infatuation…
She was brought out of her thoughts by the
sound of jeering. She sighed.
She didn’t have to look outside to see what it was.
It was Lu and his friends. They
had seen Mousse come here and came to bully him as they always did.
Although bullying those weaker than oneself was looked down upon for
females, males usually did so with impunity.
Everyone knew that such was the weakness of males; they can’t control
their own violent impulses. She
supposed she had better go out and stop it.
Mu Tzu stood impassively inside the circle
of boys, facing Lu. Lu was the
leader of the group, larger than the others.
The other three boys were simply toadies, cowards that only moved on
Lu’s command and only did something when Lu did.
Ku Lon paused at the doorway.
They hadn’t noticed her yet. She
was suddenly struck with a morbid curiosity about how Mu Tzu would react to
this. Lu was saying something to
Mu Tzu, posturing arrogantly in front of the smaller boy, when he shoved him.
Mu Tzu stiffened visibly, turning taut as wire stretched to the breaking point.
Assured in his own superiority over the weakling, Lu didn’t see it.
The toadies were jeering insults safely from the sidelines, waiting for
the boy to fall.
Encouraged by his followers, Lu shoved him
again. He didn’t see the sleeved
arm whip up and the iron bar appear in its hand, but he did feel it when the
butt end was rammed into his gut. He
was doubled over gasping when Mu Tzu brought his knee sharply into his face,
sending him sprawling back. He
landed writhing and screaming while blood gushed from his nose.
Ku Lon was pleasantly surprised.
It seemed the boy finally learned to stand up for himself.
Though his motions and choice of weapons lacked a warrior’s finesse,
they were controlled and very straightforward with no trace of squeamishness at
hurting the other boy. Maybe
there was hope for him after all.
She wasn’t as half as surprised as the
other boys expecting easy sport with a weakling, who suddenly turned their
leader into a bloody mess lying on the ground.
Mu Tzu didn’t give them time to react.
He swung the iron bar in a wide arc to his right and connected with the
side of one of the boy’s neck, sending him reeling.
He quickly turned and rushed toward the boy who had been on his left,
weapon raised to bring down on his head. He
instinctively raised his arm to block the attack and screamed as it struck.
He fell on his backside and scrambled away while crying and clutching
his ruined arm. The last one was
running as fast as he could in the other direction.
Mu Tzu squinted as if gauging the distance between himself and the
fleeing boy and cocked his arm back to throw the bar.
Ku Lon was suddenly there beside Mu Tzu, a
withered hand held firmly around the boy’s wrist.
This had gone on long enough. He
had passed from self-defense into brutality.
The boy looked up at the Elder and she almost gasped at what she saw.
Cold anger and hate was etched onto his face and didn’t lessen even as
she held him. Although
she was much stronger, his arm strained against her grip trying to force it
down, his gaze locked on hers. By
then the boy had disappeared and the screaming had begun to attract the notice
of the villagers.
Finally Mu Tzu’s arm relaxed and his eyes
became blank again. He stood
passively until she released her grip.
“Go home,” she said simply.
He bowed and walked away silently, passing
the boys he had just beaten. They
looked up fearfully and scooted away as quickly as possible as he came near.
He ignored them.
A chill ran up Ku Lon’s spine.
He had definitely changed.
Killing his memory of Xian Pu couldn’t
possibly have done this. Could it?
She wondered.
She shook herself and laughed inwardly.
This was obviously a temporary situation.
Soon Mu Tzu will be back to his old blind, weak self.
Right now the important thing is taking care of the boys he mangled.
Perhaps now they would learn to stop picking on smaller children.
One could be hiding an iron bar inside his sleeve.
She pogoed on her staff to tend to the
hurt boys when she had the crawling sensation that something was watching her.
She turned and saw Mu Tzu across the way, a small patch of white against
the green and brown of the forest, staring at her.
Even from this distance she could see he was smiling.
Cologne opened her eyes.
Thunder crashed and rolled outside.
She sat up silently from her bed and
reached for the staff by her bed. Lightning
flashed, illuminating the hall brilliantly in blue-white light as she silently
checked each room. Lin-lin and
Lan-lan slept in Shampoo’s room on a spare bed.
The girls slept fitfully, tossing and turning and mumbling.
Nightmares.
She sighed, thinking again about what the
girls had gone through, what they had witnessed, only to come here where the
nightmare was still walking and talking. But
she wasn’t going to send them to the village just yet.
Mousse was still out there somewhere and there’s no telling what he may
do if he caught them.
She sighed again, but it came out more
like a growl. She searched
everywhere for the boy but there was no physical trace of him to be found.
The only clue she had that he even existed was the people she questioned
who saw or spoke to him, and the list wasn’t encouraging.
Ukyo and her transvestite waiter/waitress, Ranma’s mother, and Nabiki
Tendo. Ukyo and Konatsu liked
him, if only because he left a considerably large sum for his meal.
Nodoka said he was a nice young man and asked if Cologne knew him; she
told her they were acquaintances and bade her goodbye.
Nabiki was the most puzzling. When
asked, the girl studied Cologne thoughtfully through half-lidded eyes for a
moment, probably wondering why she would possibly be interested in him, before
demanding five thousand yen for the information.
Cologne grudgingly paid the sum and the girl told her he stopped by with
Nodoka a few weeks ago to change into something dry after he was caught in the
rain. Cologne felt the girl was
keeping something from her, she could see it behind the girl’s carefully
neutral expression. But the girl
kept her cool under the Elder’s scrutiny.
It was an admirable feat; most would have buckled under the pressure.
Cologne felt Nabiki would have made an excellent Amazon.
The boy was getting close to Ranma.
Her stomach clenched at the thought.
Bringing her future son-in-law into the tribe was more important now
than ever. With all the Elders
dead except for herself and many the tribe’s warriors along with them, it was
very possible the Amazon people wouldn’t recover from this blow unless they
brought in new, powerful blood, even if it was male.
She contemplated the matter.
The village would have to wait. They
could take care of themselves; Mousse won’t go back for them until he dealt
with her, she knew. And he
wouldn’t deal with her until he dealt with her great-granddaughter.
Her stomach clenched tighter. She
had a good idea of what that animal would do to her if he managed to defeat
Ranma for the right to her hand.
Then there was really only one thing for
her to do. Make sure Ranma didn’t
lose.
***
Mu Tzu watched as the blur he assumed to
be mist creep along the ground from the springs, only to be burned away by the
rising sun. Bamboo shoots reached
up dozens of feet into the air. He
was careful to stay away from the springs’ edges, being familiar with the old
legends regarding the place. He
fingered the length of chain he kept in one sleeve of his voluminous robe,
drawing security from its feel.
They were late.
Mousse shivered inside his robes from the damp air and raised a hand
toward the sun to feel how high it had risen.
His mother would be waking shortly.
He swept his myopic gaze across the grounds and made ready to leave.
He never believed the Elders would be so petty as to play such a simple
practical joke.
“Are you ready, child?” inquired a reedy
voice.
Mu Tzu whipped around, a knife slipping
into his hand. He sheathed it when
he saw the origin of the voice. Four
figures appeared out of the rapidly dissipating mist, hunched and wizened by
age. He strode forward
cautiously, as wary of the Elders as he was of the springs.
“I am here as you asked,” he replied.
“You say if I do this you promise to let my mother and I leave this
place?”
One of the old ones nodded.
“Yes. You will be given
your freedom, and no longer be considered one of us.”
He tucked his hands back in his sleeves.
“Good. Now what is it I
have to do?”
“Come closer,” she beckoned.
Mu Tzu walked forward cautiously, trying
his best at scanning the ground and keeping his eyes on the Elder at the same
time. The mist seemed to thicken
and gather in tendrils around his ankles.
He kicked at it. He thought
he could actually feel it. The
Elder towered over him perched on her staff, though her aged body couldn’t have
been any taller than his.
“What do I have to do?” he asked.
Everything suddenly seemed in focus now.
The Elder looked down impassively.
He glanced at the three others, all watching him.
He took a half step back.
Aren’t there five Elders?
Mousse didn’t have time to react before a
tall form emerged from the mist, spinning a staff that struck him in the side,
sending him flying through the air. Reacting
out of blind instinct, Mousse flung the chain from his sleeve toward what he
thought was a tall bamboo shoot. The
chain caught and held. He used the
momentum as the bamboo bent and righted itself to swing himself up and wrap his
legs around the shoot, leaving him hanging upside down.
He didn’t have time to feel relieved at
his save before he heard shouts coming from the Elders.
He tilted his head up to see two of them arguing, one holding the other
back and talking rapidly while the other three ran or hopped to the edge of the
spring.
Suddenly enraged at his betrayal, Mu Tzu
held his arms out and a storm of blades, spikes, and chains flew out.
The Elders easily blocked his attacks, but he kept flinging his motley
assortment of weapons. He
was vaguely aware through his haze of anger of the impossibility of escape from
the Elders.
Under the hail of weapons the tall Elder
had had enough and moved forward, striking the bamboo with the sharp point of
her staff. Mu Tzu paused in his
assault as he felt his support collapsing beneath him.
Another jab of the staff and the bamboo stalk was pushed neatly from the
break, sending its length plunging into the spring, Mu Tzu with it.
Mu Tzu screamed as he rushed toward the
spring and got a final wild, upside down look at the Elders and the rest of the
world before the water covered him, the light of the sun fading from under him
as he was dragged into the bottomless dark.
Mousse opened his eyes.
Thunder crashed and rolled outside.
He no longer screamed when he had the
nightmares. They were always the
same tired, old horrors playing themselves out again and again.
It was more ritual than anything; the nightmare would emerge from the
black edges of sleep, perform, and return.
He couldn’t remember when it stopped dancing and cavorting in his mind,
taunting him with his memories, and instead became a business appointment that
would arrive punctually almost every night.
But it was still a nightmare, even if it was a particularly mild one
compared to others he had, ones that involved demon elders, water that came to
life in the form of reaching tentacles, and a duck that would either swallow
him whole or fly into his mouth and force its way into his belly.
He sat up in his bed and set his feet down
on the rich maroon carpet that covered his room.
He turned the lamp on, which almost managed to light up the room but
left dark corners and edges. The
light hit the chandelier a good twenty feet above him and the crystals sparkled
softly. He stayed in one of the
more lavishly appointed suites in Tokyo at the modest price of a few million
yen a night. He knew they would
have charged him much more if they hadn’t known exactly who he and his family
were. As it was, they gave him a
large discount on their best room and a very attentive, very frightened
personal staff.
He walked over to the balcony door and
stepped out, almost immediately getting soaked by the driving rain.
It pleased him. Even after
all this time he couldn’t quite accept the fact that he was no longer cursed.
He opened his eyes.
The magnificent Tokyo skyline paled in comparison to nature’s lightshow
above it. Lightning dueled in
their delicate swordplay, flashing blue and white as they danced around each
other, lighting up the sky.
He felt the sudden urge to draw it.
He wanted to run in, grab a sketchpad and pencil, and draw the lightning.
But he didn’t move. He was
still enjoying the feeling of cold water on his skin.
Inevitably he even became bored and
stepped back in. After toweling
off and putting on a pair of pants he flopped back onto the bed and stared at
the ceiling. He was bored.
Completely and utterly bored. The
past few weeks trudged on while he recovered.
The nightlife bored him and while practicing his art helped pass the
time he couldn’t get nearly the workout he wanted.
At least he wasn’t coughing up blood anymore.
Cloth rustled gently at the far corner of
the bed and a small, dark shadow with gold-green eyes detached itself from the
rest. The shadow padded over to
him and leaped onto his chest. Mousse
smiled and scratched it behind the ear. The
black kitten mewed and began purring softly, eventually falling back asleep.
He didn’t know why he took in the stray.
Maybe it was the simple need for companionship, but he doubted it.
Mousse found it in an alley while taking a walk, gazing steadily up at
him with slitted eyes. He had
stopped and stared back. He didn’t
know how long he stood there staring at an alley cat like an idiot before he
picked it up and took it home. He
named it Lucifer. It seemed to
like the name.
He sighed heavily.
Even raising a pet, something he had never done until now, was beginning
to become routine. He enjoyed the
company the little cat provided but he was still bored most of the time.
“What do you think, Lucifer?” he asked
absently.
The cat opened its eyes at the sound of
its name and closed them again when he saw nothing of importance.
It stretched and shifted into a more comfortable position.
Mousse turned his head to see the books
piled on his lamp table. The
Illiad, Seven Military Classics, all five books of The Hitchhiker’s
Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy, and many others lay there, all read through
from front to back. He was really
bored.
He suddenly thought of Nabiki, the girl he
met in Nerima. Warmth rushed to
his face as he recalled that moment in the bathroom.
He wondered if she still remembered him as well as he remembered her.
He flicked his wrist and the card she gave him snapped into existence
between his first two fingers.
Tendo Information Service.
Perhaps it’s time to schedule an appointment.
A loud crash of thunder almost drowned out
the telephone’s first ring.
“Yes?”
“The report is in, sir,” Mori replied on
the other end.
He liked Mori.
Efficient, unflappable, professional, and gifted with an uncanny ability
to gather information, the old man was the consummate personal spy.
He had to be. He
was previously under the employ of the late Yakuza crime boss Jinai for three
years, a black-tempered, and some say insane, man that went through employees
like a wino went through cheap alcohol. That
Mori managed to survive for three years where few lasted three months made him
a legend in some circles. After
Jinai’s unfortunate death involving an American car he owned, (apparently
faulty American engineering was all the evidence the police needed) Mori hired
his services out to various other Yakuza, always carrying out his tasks
impeccably and only moving on when a better offer was made.
He wouldn’t betray his employer, but he would not stay any longer if he
could do better elsewhere. That
was another reason Mousse liked him. He
was loyal only to coin, which made him all the more trustworthy, because he
knew no one would pay him as much as Mousse for such a simple job.
“Go ahead.”
“The restaurant has remained quiet for the
past few weeks. It is no longer
open for business, though there are people still inside.
Occasionally one of the girls would leave for supplies, or the young
lady would go to one of the local high schools, but that is all.”
“They haven’t seen the old one?”
“No sir.”
“You’re certain.”
Mousse could almost hear him draw up in
indignation. “I am most certain,
sir.”
“Is there anything else?”
“The men are demanding double for their
services. Nerima makes them
nervous.”
That was just like Mori.
There was no roundabout way of doing things with him.
“Very well, you have my pin number.”
Mousse made to hang up the phone and paused.
“One more thing. You said
the girl went to of the high schools. Which
one?”
“I believe it was Furinkan, sir.”
“How often does she go?”
“Everyday, sir”
“Thank you Mori.
Pay the men and keep them watching the place.
If anything happens I want you to report immediately.”
He hung up.
It looked as though he would have to postpone that appointment with Miss
Tendo. Lucifer was awake again,
standing on his chest and sniffing curiously at his face.
It batted at his nose. He
pushed it away in annoyance and the cat latched playfully onto his hand with
its paws. He was suddenly glad he
declawed the thing earlier. Even
so, it took some shaking to disengage the creature. It landed on its feet
smoothly, looking back with the smug expression all cats have.
Sometimes Mousse thought the kitten was more intelligent than it looked.
“Furinkan High School,” he mused to
himself. The corners of his mouth
turned up. “I think maybe it’s
time I got myself an education.”
***
“Mr. Sun?”
The voice swam through the strains of
violin that for the moment made up Mousse’s world.
He opened his eyes and saw the secretary halfway standing up from her
chair, as though she was about to stand up and walk over to him.
He wondered how many times she called his name.
He removed the headphones.
“Yes ma’am?”
“The vice principal will see you now,” the
small, waspish woman said, sitting back down with an annoyed expression.
“So take that thing off and mind your manners.”
He ignored her and walked past into the
office before she was finished speaking. She
wasn’t the only unpleasant member of the staff he had met.
It seemed everyone employed by the school was generally unhappy and more
than a little tense. Sometimes he
would overhear pieces of conversation that would mention ‘principal’, or ‘little
girl’, or ‘martial artists.’
The vice principal was a short, nervous
man with a long nose and a pair of huge two front teeth.
He reminded Mousse of a rat.
“Good morning, Mr. Sun,” he said.
He gestured to a chair. “Please
have a seat.”
Mousse took a seat and waited for him to
continue speaking. He noticed the
man had a nervous tick below his eye that would also make his nose twitch.
The vice principal more and more resembled a rat wearing a suit.
“Your test scores are very impressive, Mr.
Sun, and I’m sure that…”
Mousse tuned the rat’s voice out and let
himself drift. He had never been
to a public school, and so far he had no idea what he missed by never taking it.
They had scheduled him to come early in the morning to take a placement test
that would have been better suited for lab animals, and then made him wait for
over an hour while they graded and checked it twice.
The test was so simple he deliberately missed a few so that he wouldn’t
be recommended for a higher level education at another school or university.
He nodded and pretended to look interested
at the vice principal’s words. His
plan had been simple. Find Ranma
and when Shampoo showed up, defeat him and claim her as his fiancé.
Simple. And as a bonus he
would learn what it was like to attend a public school.
Now he was thinking if it wouldn’t have been easier to simply challenge
Ranma at some random time.
“…so we created a schedule that is
concurrent with your abilities as a student.”
The man slid a sheet of paper across the
desk. Mousse took it and gave it
a quick glance. He had to stifle a
laugh. He could imagine what
Provost Stukov would have done if he saw this list of classes.
The diminutive, unkempt man would probably rant and rave, screaming in a
mix of English and Russian the way he does when he’s angry, before he passes
out or lunges across the desk to strangle man who would give one of his
students such elementary classes. The
last part was a stretch of the imagination but it was still funny.
Mousse, still grinning at the mental image
of his teacher actually committing any form of violence, didn’t hear what the
vice principal said.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“I said your locker number is on the sheet
and you must get your books from the depository on the first floor,” the vice
principal said. He twitched.
“You might want to hurry, your first class begins in five minutes.”
Mousse stood and bowed.
“Thank you, sir.”
The halls were empty save for a few
stragglers rushing to their classes before the bell rang.
Mousse took his time passing through.
He knew he wouldn’t be missing anything of importance.
He glanced at his schedule sheet.
English with Ms. Ninomiya Hinako was first.
He paused near a window. His
near transparent reflection stared back at him, dressed immaculately in a dark
blue suit worn by students and hair combed and bound back neatly.
He brushed some imaginary lint from his shoulder and straightened his
jacket.
Perfect,
he thought, pushing his glasses up further along his nose.
The bell rang. He
shrugged, unconcerned, and took his time going up the two flights of stairs
leading to his class.
***
Mousse was fifteen minutes late for his
first class. He was expecting the
lesson to be well under way, so he was surprised to find that the room was
still alive with the noise of students still chattering amongst themselves.
The noise lulled for a moment as the students stopped talking to see the
newcomer, but quickly picked up where it left off.
He walked to the back of the class, conscious of the curious looks the
other students gave him. He sat
beside a skinny, hunched boy with dark rings under his eyes.
The boy glanced at him nervously before turning his attention back to a
thick, black bound book he was reading.
Mousse pulled out his own English book.
He froze in disbelief when he saw the cover.
On the front was a picture of a sailboat tossing on a bright blue sea
with a sunrise in the background. Above
it, emblazoned in bright yellow were the words, ‘Sunlize!’, and below
that ‘Engrish Revel 3’. Stukov
would have cried.
“I can’t believe we’re late again!
Why do you always have to pick on Ryoga whenever you see him?”
“Aw calm down Akane.
It’s not like the teach is gonna be there anyway.
And besides he was the one that started it.”
“Ranchan!
I brought you a lunch, what took you so long?”
“Oh, hey Ucchan, I just got held up that’s
all.”
Mousse tore his unbelieving gaze from the
book and looked up to see Ranma, Ucchan, and the pretty girl wielding the huge mallet
from outside Ucchan’s restaurant. Ucchan
still had that huge spatula strapped to her back over a boy’s uniform.
The girl was dressed normally in a blue school dress while Ranma was
dressed in an old-fashioned red Chinese shirt with small wooden pegs used as
buttons and loose-fitting pants.
Mousse smirked.
Target acquired.
Ranma leaped over the desks, turning his
body smoothly in midair to land in the seat in front of Mousse.
He twisted around to face him.
“Hey how ya doin’?” he greeted cheerfully.
“You new here?”
“You could say that,” he said, grinning.
A confused look passed over Ranma’s face.
“Do I know you from somewhere?”
“Mousse!” Ucchan cried, running up.
Mousse turned and bowed his head.
“It’s good to see you Ucchan. How’s
business?”
“Oh, it’s great,” she said.
“Did you just enroll here?”
“Just today.
My family insisted I catch up on missing school time so here I am.”
“Uh, Mousse, about that okonomiyaki you
ate, I think you paid a little too much…”
Mousse waved his hand dismissively.
“It was worth every yen, Ucchan. Don’t
worry about it.”
“Well okay, if you say so,” she said.
“But it still feels like I’m overcharging.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”
“Hey, yeah that’s right, you’re Mousse,” Ranma
said, butting in. Man, I almost
didn’t recognize you.”
Mousse shrugged.
“It has been a few weeks since last we met.”
He leaned forward. “Tell
me, how is your fiancé doing?”
“Huh?
Oh.” Ranma laughed. “Which
one?”
Mousse blinked.
Which one? What does he
mean?
“Who’s your friend, Ranma?” asked the
pretty girl with short hair.
“Oh yeah, Mousse meet Akane, Akane meet
Mousse,” Ranma said.
She smiled and nodded.
“Hello Mousse.”
He smiled back.
“Hello Akane.” She was very
cute, and somehow familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her
before.
“So, where is the teacher?” Mousse asked.
Ranma shrugged.
“She probably overslept again. She
does that sometimes.”
Mousse was beginning to suspect that
everything he heard about the quality of Japanese schools was a bunch of crap.
“Good morning class!”
The talking immediately stopped while
everyone scrambled for their seats. Mousse
looked around confusedly. Why
should the students be concerned about such a lax teacher?
His mouth dropped open when he saw he
short figure striding out of the door to the front of the class.
It was a little girl. She
couldn’t have even been into her teens yet, but she carried the enrollment pad
and teacher’s edition of the textbook all the students had.
He looked around and saw that everyone was paying perfect attention to
her. He rubbed his eyes and looked
again. She was still a little girl.
He turned his head to look at Ucchan and pointed at the teacher.
She nodded soberly at him. Stukov
would have wept uncontrollably.
“I see we have a new student!” Hinako
said, marking the attendance sheet. “Will
Sun Mousse please stand up?”
Mousse put on his best smile walked to the
front of the class. “Hi.”
“Hi Mousse!” said the entire class.
Some of the girls leaned over their seats to talk to each other.
They giggled while stealing quick glances at him.
Mousse felt his face turning slightly red.
“So do you want to tell us about yourself,
Mousse?” asked the teacher, looking up at him with open curiosity.
He cleared his throat.
“Well, I was born in China but my family and I moved around a lot.”
“Really?
Where?” she asked again, eyes wide.
“Nowhere in particular,” he said, and
began counting off his fingers. “We’ve
been to the United States, England, France, Russia…”
“Wow really!?” she exclaimed.
She wasn’t alone. The rest
of the class was also leaning forward in interest.
Feeling more confident, he nodded.
“Oh, yeah. We were
traveling performers, so we were always on the move.
Would you like to see a trick?”
He flicked his wrist and colorful strips
of silk tied end to end flew out to be caught by his other hand.
He then gathered the cloth and brought his hands together.
When he flung out his arms a single, pure white dove flew up and out the
window. He bowed to the wild
applause of the class.
“That is so cool!” Hinako
exclaimed, jumping up and down and eyes shining.
“Do another, please?”
“Shouldn’t we be starting class now?” he
replied dubiously.
“Just one more.
Please?”
“Well, alright I guess…”
And so half of the class period passed on
with Mousse performing various magical tricks to the delight of the class and
teacher. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed
the applause and admiration, and he doubted if he would have learned anything
from the class anyway. He was
about to pull a bouquet of roses from a coffee cup when the P.A. turned on.
“Will da new student please report to da
principal’s office immediately.”
Mousse paused in his trick and shrugged.
“Well, I guess I’d better get going.”
He looked at the suddenly gloomy class.
He didn’t like the way they were looking at him.
It almost looked like…pity.
“Come back soon, Mousse!” Hinako said cheerfully,
oblivious to the sudden change in mood in the class.
“Okay class, open your books to page fifty-five…”
***
Mousse was finally convinced.
Everyone in the school was completely insane.
“Aloha!”
He winced at the horrible
Hawaiian/Caribbean accent the man seated across from him had.
“Hi,” he said.
“So you be da new keike, dat right?”
The darkly tanned man was comically dressed in a flower print shirt and
shorts, and in place of a topknot he had a miniature palm tree on top of his
head.
“Yes, that’s right,” he answered.
“Dat be good, so you like Furinkan so far,
do you keike?”
A faint throbbing materialized in Mousse’s
head. The man’s mix of Japanese
and bastardized Hawaiian/Caribbean was beginning to grate on him.
Even the room, set in a tropical beach motif complete with sand and a
wall painting with surf and bright yellow sun, was obnoxious.
“Yes, it’s a very nice school.”
“And you be a good student, right?
You follow da rules, right?” The
eyes behind his shades looked at him eagerly.
“Yeah,” Mousse said slowly, suspicious.
“Good!” The principal exclaimed, jumping
up. “Then you know dere is new
rule for new students!”
“There is?”
“Yah.”
He pulled out a pair of scissors and shaver.
“All boys get buzz cuts and all girls get bowl cuts!”
Mousse stared at him flatly.
Insane.
“So we begin now, yah?” The principal
said, a gleam in his eye.
Mousse had enough.
“You’re absolutely right, principal, I should follow the rules.
But can I ask you something first?”
“Yah, go ahead,” the principal said,
delighted this one was going ahead willingly.
“I noticed your door is rather heavy.
Is it soundproofed by chance?”
“Ah, yes da door is soundproofed,” he
said, confused at the question. “Can’t
be havin’ da keikes distracting da ones in class.
Why you want to know?”
“No reason,” he said.
His lips thinned into a cruel, white smile as he stood up.
“I just don’t want anyone to disturb us.”
***
Outside the principal’s office, the various
students called in were growing nervous. It
had already been half an hour since the new guy went in.
Some looked at each other and shook their heads.
Who knows what that maniac was doing to the poor guy.
They jumped in surprise as the P.A. speaker
crackled to life.
”All students and faculty please report to
the auditorium for an emergency meeting.”
The students turned to each other in
confusion. That didn’t sound like
the principal’s voice.
***
The auditorium was filling rapidly with students
and teachers happy to be away from their daily lessons.
Ranma slouched lazily in the chair between Ukyo and Akane, while
searching warily for Kuno. He
didn’t feel like fighting that idiot today.
“So what do you think?” Akane asked.
Ranma shrugged.
“Who knows, probably the principal just playing a joke or somethin’.”
“I don’t know, it didn’t sound like his
voice.” Her hands twisted in her
lap worriedly. “I wonder what he
did to Mousse.”
Ranma glanced at her, and for a moment was
caught up in how cute she looked when she was worried.
“Aw, he’ll be alright Akane,” he said,
shaking his head to lose that feeling he got whenever he thought she looked
cute. “I think he can take care
of himself.”
Akane opened her mouth to ask him why when
the lights suddenly dimmed and the curtains raised to reveal the principal
standing behind a podium. There was a collective gasp from the audience.
He was bald.
“Good morning ke-, er students of
Furinkan,” he said. The lights
from the ceiling reflected off his head. He
was sweating profusely and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of the suit he
wore in place of his Hawaiian outfit.
“Whoa,” Ranma breathed.
Ukyo and Akane could only nod mutely in agreement.
“It has come to my attention that I have not
been setting a good example for my students,” the principal said haltingly.
He glanced nervously toward the back and licked his lips.
“So I have decided to strive to become the role model a principal should
be.”
The audience was completely mute.
“It will take much effort to accomplish
this however, and I must leave the school for a time.
So in my absence I have appointed someone to take my place.
Please welcome my junior administrator, Mr. Sun Mu Tzu.”
The principal stepped away from the podium
as Mousse walked out of the back. He
stopped at the podium and smiled at his captive audience.
Ranma leaned forward in his chair.
No way.
“I guess you were right, Ranchan,” Ukyo
murmured. “He can take care of
himself.”
“Greetings my fellow classmates,” he said.
“Since the principal will be absent for a time, I will be in charge.
If there is anything at all you need or would like to ask me, please
feel free to drop by my office. Any
questions?”
The auditorium was still silent.
Ranma watched as Mousse’s eyes roamed the
audience, until they rested on him. He
felt a chill sliver up his spine as Mousse smiled thinly.
“Very well.
School dismissed.”
To be continued…