Author's foreword: I wrote this with the intent of creating Rankofiction that I could stand reading. I'm honestly not sure if I've succeeded in that endeavor, but I did learn a lot about the process and why people who write Rankofics think the way they do.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2
It was a meeting at the platform's edge, just the two of them against a background of bustling commuters and relentless summer rain. They were equally drenched: Ranma's red shirt sticking wetly across her back and a damp paper bag containing Nabiki's scarf wedged under one arm; the woman's long raven hair plastered to her head and yellow dress clinging to her like a second skin.
Perhaps five years senior, the woman had reached a stage of sophisticated maturity in her features that Ranma's teenage girlishness had only begun to approach. She possessed dark brown eyes that Ranma would have thought pretty had they not carried numbing pain in their depths.
That face stared at her almost emptily at first, then smiled acceptingly, as if Ranma herself was the angel of death who had been charged to come for her. The woman's smile was so forced, yet so devoid of will, Ranma nearly flinched.
The pigtailed martial artist opened her mouth, trying to ask the questions that had formed in her mind. Who was the woman? What had brought her so low? Why was she wearing a face nearly identical to Ranma's own? Ranma's throat had caught so badly that the questions came out a series of short, unheard squeaks and gasps. The woman looked at her questioningly before returning her attention to the tracks.
Ranma was still trying to find her voice when the sound of the train's mechanical roar approached, building to a thundering crescendo...
... and the woman took one step forward.
123123
Draw the Curtain:
Prologue
By
ToastedPine
123123
Another tiny monolith was stood on its end, surface reflecting the light radiating from fluorescent tubes above. One more followed the previous, completing a new segment in the winding pattern of rows that filled the floor of the slowly decaying office. Beside leather-bound volumes of the Adventures of Detective Kudo, over ramps made of playing cards, the standing tiles ran in lines. They continued past framed pictures of young men and women in blue uniform, their ranks blind to proud smiles, unblinking to tenderly clutched parchments, unmindful of anything save their common end by a black-lacquered rotary phone.
Narutaki Shinichi straightened from his hunch and examined his work. It had taken most of the day, but he had completed it: a ten-to-one likeness of his badge rendered in domino. Some would say that the activity was an enormous waste of time, and they would probably be right. On the other hand, as his father had taught him, it was also an exercise in ingenuity, control, and most important, patience.
He'd been freshly raised, only a year out of the academy, onto the cushy mantle of Inspector. Shinichi had no illusions about the cause-- no one could advance so quickly. A few of the brass were attempting to ingratiate themselves to his commissioner father. And if giving him almost nothing to do wasn’t enough indication that he was to sit pretty, the fact that he had been left in this old building while the rest of police headquarters had been relocated was a neon sign slammed to his head. Running a finger over the domino’s black bumps, Shinichi tried to suppress yet another bubble of irritation from rising. This waiting would end, it had to. All he needed was a single tiny nudge, a careless gesture that would send him on his way to earning his promotion and the respect of his peers.
Shinichi snatched the phone from its cradle as soon as it rang, the domino pocketed reflexively.
“Narutaki speaking.” He listened, grip tightening on the black handle. “Attempted suicide? An actress… I see. Where?”
Shinichi opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pen and pad. “Omotesando Station… ask for Officer Imahara. Phone number…. Got it, thank you.”
Stuffing the note in his pocket, he snatched the tan jacket that was hanging off a hook by the door and went to find the wheezing rust-bucket that was his patrol car.
An actress had thrown herself in front of a train and an investigator needed to be on the scene to make sure there was no foul play involved. To his superiors, Shinichi’s true function was to keep word from spreading, which involved having a stern word with all the witnesses about not talking. It was a job that would have him playing ‘good cop bad cop’ all day, something he enjoyed about as much as cleaning toilets.
Naturally, he could decline being damage control, but then all he really needed was one tiny nudge-- just one.
123123
Omotesando station was empty; the trains had been rerouted and guards were placed at the station entrance to divert foot traffic. Shinichi stood on the tracks, looking at a patch of packed earth and stone that lay beneath the track. Even in the thoroughly soaked earth from the seemingly relentless summer rain, he could see the darker spots clearly; the actress had lost quite a bit of blood after the train had slammed into her.
He would learn nothing from visiting the scene, but he thought he should anyways. Clapping his hands together, he bowed his head and prayed. Murasaki Sayaka, age 24, was an up-and-coming actress of period films and daytime soaps. From the debriefing he had conducted when he arrived, it was a fairly straight-forward suicide attempt. The paramedics had arrived in time thanks to the quick actions of a civilian, though oddly enough, he hadn’t heard a word about the identity of the actress’s savior.
No motive had yet been discovered. By all indications, the actress’s personal life and career were going well. The pattern wasn’t unheard of, however; success could supposedly come with spirit-breaking pressures. Shinichi found the idea distasteful. If they couldn’t deal with success, they should have quit. Causing a ruckus like this would was good for no one except the tabloids. Still, he prayed that the actress would find peace and wake from her coma a better person.
“Inspector Narutaki!” A short man in his early twenties trotted over, puffing from exertion.
“Officer Imahara?” Shinichi guessed from the description he had received on the phone. The officer nodded once in affirmative. “What’s the hurry?” he asked, wanting to put off his duties for as long as possible.
“They’ve finished gathering and prescreening everyone’s identity at the security station. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for,” the officer hesitated. “We wanted to make sure that there was an actual relation before we told you, but she’s refusing to cooperate. She’s the one who saved Ms. Murasaki and...” Imahara shook his head “You’ll just have to see it to believe it.”
Shinichi wondered what the commotion was about. A mysterious savior was something right out of a detective novel, but life rarely worked out to be that exciting. Well, Imahara was traffic division-- an incident like this was probably a big deal to him.
123123
Shinichi rubbed his palms together them pressed them over his eyes-- the warmth soothingly seeped through his eyelids. It had been grueling, sitting on a rickety stool for the past three hours, talking to nearly thirty witnesses, finding out what they had seen and knew, and making sure they understood that not a word could be said before the police were ready with a formal statement. Part of his difficulties came from how nosey people were. His mouth had gone dry from repeating that they weren’t entitled to any information on the person they had seen jump in front of the train. Most of the people he spoke to were years or decades his senior, which made it hard for him to put his foot down. The badge helped surprisingly little in that regard.
Putting hands against the small table that matched the stools, Shinichi levered himself into standing. He wished that they had more they had more comfortable chairs, or at least some cubicle walls that weren’t so new they still smelled of pressed plastic and heated styrofoam. Rubbing his shoulder and rotating his arm, he stepped out of the cubicle to address the man waiting just outside.
“Bring her in, Officer.” Imahara had been assigned as his aid, though from personal choice or being ordered to do so, Shinichi did not know. Honestly, he felt a little bad ordering the man about: fetching files, serving tea, and sending for food. On the other hand, this was the first time running that show instead of being an assistant so he was a little too tired to care. He would have been even more worn out had he been left to his own devices.
Shinichi had left the mysterious savior for last in the hopes that he would uncover something from the other accounts. He turned up nothing, but it was a good habit nonetheless.
Soon, the mystery savior arrived, escorted by Imahara.
The shorter man was right when he that this woman had to be seen to be believed. She was small, even for a Japanese woman, but with a chest size that rivaled the best he’d seen. Shinichi did his absolute best to focus on her face-- who would have thought she neglected to wear undergarments-- that was safer, and the point of his true interest.
The color of her eyes and her reddish hair was different, but the cheekbones, eye shape, nose length, and lips matched: she could have been a younger version of Murasaki Sayaka. Belatedly, he realized that she was none too happy to see him-- her arms crossed over her chest as if she had caught him looking. Shinichi berated himself for not keeping his professionalism. Someone had almost died today, and he was standing there ogling.
Clearing his throat he greeted her and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Inspector Narutaki.”
Instead of accepting his greeting, she went ahead and sat herself down. Narutaki hid his grimace and took his own seat.
“You were very brave and thought quickly,” he opened. “Ms. Murasaki owes you her life.” Ms. Murasaki’s status was strictly confidential. He would have preferred not telling her anything, but she looked tough and he needed to soften her by throwing out something.
For a second, he thought he saw pride flash in the woman’s eyes, but then her shoulders drooped and she gripped the edge of the table as if she needed it to keep from sinking to the floor. He blinked. He hadn’t expected that piece of information to work so well. Did she have genuine concern for the actress? It was difficult not to jump to conclusions. What were the chances that Ms Murasaki would choose to commit suicide at a station near her studio, and just happen to be saved by a woman who could have been her double?
“Owes me her life? Is... is she okay?”
Shinichi nearly flinched at the concern in her voice, but he did have a job to do. “I’m sorry, I can’t release that information to just anyone. Do you happen to know her? If you’d just give us your name and contact number, I could arrange for some communication.” he let the question hang.
Ranko narrowed her eyes at him. Shinichi swallowed; he really needed to work on his interrogation skills. “First time I’ve ever seen her in my life. And it’s fine, I’m no one. Happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time is all. Are we done here? Because I really want to go.”
She's 'no one?' Did that imply she wasn’t important or that she didn’t want anyone to know who she was? If not, then why? He didn’t like all these secrets. A small part of him asked why he was trying so hard. She hadn’t done anything wrong aside from being secretive about her identity, and he had no basis to hold her at the station. He was also willing to bet his badge that she wasn’t the type to cause Ms. Murasaki to attempt a suicide. So why couldn’t he let this go and get back to his waiting game?
“At least let us have your name,” he paused. It would be a gamble but he’d take responsibility for it later if it ever came to that. “Ms. Murasaki is being held at Keio University Hospital-- in the IC ward. The last I heard was that she’s in a coma. But I think she’d want to know who saved her when she wakes. I don't see why an upstanding citizen such as yourself would decline,” he added the last bit with a note of suspicion in his voice.
The woman, who was about to leave her seat, sat down. She appraised him for a few moments, those sharp blue eyes weighing.
“I didn't do nothin' to no one," Ranko snapped. "The name’s Ranko, try not to wear it out.”
Shinichi’s irritation flared. Inspector or not, he was still police and a civilian had no right to talk to him that way. He forced himself to calm. Three of the witnesses had been able to identify Ms. Murasaki and had commented on how they weren’t aware of the actress having any living relatives, but he’d check the family’s registry anyway. The main problem before him was that he had nothing to hold her for before he could finish checking the facts.
He was in the middle of forming a solution for keeping tabs on the redhead, when he heard Imahara’s panicked cry from beyond the cubicle walls.
“Sir, you can’t go in there! This is an official police investigation!” Imahara came into view at the cubicle’s opening, trying screen the man from disturbing them-- with very little success. Tall and slim, the new arrival wouldn’t have looked out of place as the leading man in a women’s television drama. Those long arms of his easily swept the shorter officer aside like a dry leaf on a walkway.
“My apologies, but any further questions will have to go through me,” the man said in smooth baritone.
“Are you alright?” he asked, cupping her hands in his and kneeling so quickly that the unbuttoned raincoat he wore fluttered like a cape as it settled to the ground.
Shinichi couldn’t see the man’s eyes, which were hidden behind darkly tinted half-framed glasses. On the other hand, Ranko was an open book, goggling like some air-headed groupie. He hadn’t figured her for the type, but that was what he saw.
Imahara, who had been pushed aside, bowed repeatedly in apology. Shinichi gave him a nod and a reassuring grin: all was forgiven and he would handle it.
Shinichi cleared his throat. “Who are you, and what gives you the right to barge in like this?”
The man casually dusted off his pants, and pulled himself up, his deliberately slow manner seeming to communicate haughty superiority. Shinichi wanted to deck him.
The tall man gave an apologetic smile which didn’t soften the cool condescension held in his eyes one bit. “Where are my manners,” he handed the Inspector a plain business card.
“Kogino Jin. I am Miss Murasaki Sayaka’s agent. No doubt you’ve been having trouble getting the answers you wish from this young lady. It’s a little complicated so please allow me to answer any and all questions you may have.”
Shinichi switched from looking at the pretty-boy to Ranko. What would Ms. Murasaki’s agent have to do with this girl? Unless….
“I take it she’s a relative?” he said.
Kogino Jin’s face became unreadable, eyes still hidden behind those dark tinted glasses. “Yes. She is.”
Shinichi cursed internally. Ranko had lied. What was she? A sister? Maybe a cousin?
“Waita min--!” Ranko started.
“You will choose to keep your peace,” Kogino Jin hushed her instantly with the hard edge in his voice.
Surprisingly, the redhead complied. What had Ranko wanted to say? The entire exchange didn’t feel right to him. He just couldn’t put his finger on the cause.
The agent swept a hand over his long, raven hair that was pulled back into a ponytail that dangled over his raincoat. Bringing up his right arm, he glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, Inpector, my schedule is very tight and we really do have to go,” he said, offering Ranko his hand. She ignored it, standing on her own.
“Our lawyer, Mr. Kawamura, will be by shortly to clear up the release procedures. If you have any more questions for Miss Murasaki, we’d be more than willing to accommodate. Please call Mister Kawamura for the dates he’s available.”
Mr. Kawamura’s ‘availability’ was Kogino Jin’s way of saying that his investigation was about to be blocked. Shinichi couldn’t keep the heat from his voice. “How gracious of you, I’ll be sure to make arrangements with him.”
Kogino Jin strode away purposefully, without hesitation, complete confidence that Shinichi would not hinder their departure. Ranko, for all the fire she demonstrated, followed like a lost puppy.
Taking a seat, Shinichi took the domino out of his pocket while replaying as much of the interview as he could in his head. Kogino Jin and Ranko were not on the same page. More than that, Ranko was being forced into silence. Kogino Jin had a hold on her and Shinichi suspected that the same applied to Murasaki Sayaka-- a hold so strong that it may have been nearly fatal.
Whatever the secret, Shinichi would find out.
Author’s note:
Omotesando Station is not the same one as in reality. The one I’ve used in this story is above ground as opposed to a subway.
Temple of Ranma's Sailor Senshi Seifuku
Anime, Scifi, Fantasy Fan and Original Fiction
Draw the Curtain: Prologue and Chapter 1
16 posts
• Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
by ToastedPine » Sat Mar 07, 2009 3:42 pm
The wisps of steam caressing her face gently did nothing to assuage Kasumi’s worry. Oh sure, from the outside, she looked perfectly calm, the very image of the Tendo matriarch that she had stubbornly cultivated since she was little, but it was an hour past dinner and Ranma was still missing!
She understood the habits of normal teenagers, being out until eight o’clock wouldn’t warrant a second thought from most parents-- let alone siblings. Then again, Ranma was far from ordinary. Since the two years he’d come to the dojo, he hadn’t missed a single dinner without good reason.
Since Ranma and his father Mister Saotome came, her family was just that much brighter: Father was no longer in his half-waking slump, Nabiki no longer seemed so distant, and Akane smiled more... though her youngest sister also got angry more often. For these reasons, for accomplishing what all her playing house could not, Kasumi forgave the Saotomes’ many flaws, and accepted them as part of her family.
Akane had returned well before dinner from her summer activities with the drama club, and had said she hadn't seen Ranma all day when Kasumi asked her. A call to Ukyo’s and the Nekohanten turned up nothing as well. Ranma didn’t go many places so Kasumi had quickly run out of leads, which left her waiting at the family room, tea in hand and a plate of food at her side.
Footsteps came from the hallway, Nabiki, carrying folded clothes in her arms, stepped into the hallway.
“Kasumi?” her little sister said, eyes darting to the food Kasumi had set aside before returning to her. “If you’re waiting
for Ranma, I’m not sure where he is. I sent him out on an errand hours ago, he should have been back.”
Leave it to Nabiki to read her mind from a few clues. Kasumi hid her smile; however, Nabiki was far from unreadable when you knew what to look for. She had always been closer to Nabiki. They understood each other in a way that they didn’t Akane, who they both saw as their baby sister. That Nabiki puzzled out what she was thinking so quickly meant that she was doing the same.
“An errand?” Kasumi didn’t frown-- though she came pretty close. The rain had stopped over an hour ago. “You don’t think he got caught in the rain, did he? But why didn’t he call home?”
Nabiki scratched her cheek, causing Kasumi to narrow her eyes.
“Ahehehe… I… may have cleaned him out before I sent him off.”
“Nabiki!”
She held up he hands in a placating gesture that resembled their father. “Now now, Kasumi. How was I supposed to know that the rain would last this long? Besides, the doofus should have arrived by now-- and that was the wrong thing to say.” Nabiki sighed at seeing Kasumi bite her lip.
“Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can go look for him. Let’s give him another hour. Ranma can take care of himself, and you wouldn’t want him to come home to an empty house and a cold meal would you?”
Kasumi fidgeted, propriety and instinct warring inside her. “I…. suppose you’re right--”
“Good.” Nabiki grinned. “I’m going to get clean. This humidity is something else. How can you stand being in that dress?”
Kasumi would have told Nabiki if her sister had cared enough to listen.
Perhaps stronger tea was in order….
123123
Draw the Curtain:
Chapter 1
By
ToastedPine
123123
The rain had cleared, leaving the air pleasantly cool. Ranma followed the agent out of the police station, shame filling her down to the toes for allowing herself to be led along. All she could think of was that she was getting away. She knew that whoever this Kogino Jin was, he’d make her regret it later, but the relief of not having his curse revealed though the mass media was messing with her ability to think long term about anything else. There was a big difference between the kids at school, who he generally knew were harmless, and all of Japan. As much as it had become part of his life, Ranma didn’t like the curse. There were always people doubting her manhood or splashing her with water to satisfy their curiosity. Ucchan had only stopped after Ranma had gotten wrinkly on the day the made up.
“Why the heck did you lie to the cops? When they find out, we’re both going to jail!”
Kogino Jin took off dark-tinted glasses, revealing slate-grey eyes that seemed to draw the surrounding heat.
“You’re glad that you’re out of there,” he said without the least bit of doubt. “I don’t expect your thanks, nor should you give it. I’ve done what I have for my own interests.”
Ranma’s hands twitched, she wanted to teach the guy a lesson, but she couldn’t. Pop never had told him outright that hitting non martial artists was bad, but not once had she seen him fight non-martial artists unless they were after him with lethal intent. Genma said a lot of things and did precious little, but the fat panda did still have a shred of decency in him... threadbare as it was.
“I see.” Ranma glared. “So that’s it? Are we done? Because if we are, I’m going to get started on lying low, and if you’re smart, so should you. Why are you even here?”
"I was informed while they were administering first aid. By the time I arrived, they had already relocated her. I overheard some of the station staff mention a brave young woman who might have been a sister to the woman who has attempted to committed suicide. There was nothing to be done for Sayaka so I stayed."
Ranma couldn't believe the man. His tone was so causal that he may as well have been talking about going to the car wash. "You're either crazy or one cold sunovabitch. I don't care either way. Have a nice life, pal." She began to walk away.
“What if I told you I could make it so that I wasn’t lying?” Jin asked.
Ranma stopped, turning slowly. “And how do you propose to do that?” she barked a laugh. “You know what? Don't say a thing. Even if you could pull it off, what do you think I could possibly do for you? You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t need to,” Kogino Jin said. “All that I require is before me. What is your decision? If you want to leave, then leave. I am not going to force you to listen, but I also don’t appreciate having my time wasted.”
Ranma ground her teeth; she didn’t want to give this guy an inch. It better be one heck of an explanation. If not, well, the smug bastard was going to be given just enough rope to hang himself, martial artist or not.
She crossed her arms. “Fine. Talk.”
“I’d rather not speak in front of the police station, if you don’t mind,” Kogino Jin said dryly, causing Ranma’s cheeks to redden in embarrassment. “There’s a drinking establishment not too far from here that I need to visit, we can take my car.”
“Lead the way, Jerk.”
123123
They parked in a small lot behind an equally tiny building. A single street lamp at the front of the sidewalk by the building was the only source of illumination. Moths fluttered towards the dim light, creating flickering shadows. Kogino Jin got out of the car and headed for the building’s single, central back door. Ranma trailed two paces behind.
Upon closer inspection Ranma saw that it was a steel door, painted a rusty red. There were no identifying markings of what the place was.
Kogino Jin knocked twice, and the door swung open on its own. A long narrow flight of stairs lined on either side by red brick lay before them, going down further into the ground. They climbed down and reached another door, this time, with a red pilot light mounted above, and a surveillance camera extended from a metal shaft from the brick. The camera focused on them, and the pilot light turned green. Kogino Jin pushed on the latch and swung the door open.
Soft jazz, the gleam of polished redwood counters, and civil conversation flowed into Ranma as she stared wide eyed. It was a heck of a lot classier than the discount sushi restaurants she had visited on occasion. People lounged and dined amiably, some giving Ranma a questioning glance as they were passed, but no one ever said anything. Kogino Jin was smiling and nodding, exchanging polite silent greetings with almost everyone including a man in his fifties who Ranma guessed was the proprietor.
They settled at a table separated from the bar by a sturdy wooden screen. A moment later, the proprietor provided them with two steaming cups and a pitcher of cream, bowing modestly before returning to his station.
Ranma lifted the cup, giving it a precursory sniff, which filling his senses with the rich, earthy aroma of coffee. Almost without thinking, she brought the cup to her lips and drew a mouthful, nearly gasping at the taste. Even taken black, the coffee was smooth and barely bitter. After being soaked to the bone and then left to air-dry at the station, it was like a warm hug.
“This is Sanae’s, named after its original owner.” The agent lifted his cup. “A space created exclusively for the famous to forget about the pressures of being under the public eye. There are a few rules in effect while we are in this establishment. None of them are binding, but everyone follows them all the same. One of these rules involve keeping silent about the affairs of all other patrons. We will not be disturbed.”
Ranma drained her cup and placed it back on its saucer. “Nice that you’re giving me the whole tour and all that, but why don’t you get to the point already? What makes you think I want anything you have to offer?”
Kogino Jin languidly stirred sugar into his coffee, and then placed the silver spoon on his napkin. “You don’t want the police to know who you are, not even your name. You might have a criminal record, but you don’t have the presence of a thug. However, from the way you unconsciously hold yourself like a coiled spring at all times, you’re no pushover in a fight.” He took the dark-tinted glasses from his pocket and pushed it over the bridge of his nose. “I see that you’ll need to be taught how to hide your emotions.”
“What are you talking about?” Ranma snapped a little too much for her own liking. He had been making very general guesses so far, but he was right, which annoyed her to no end.
“Not your temper,” Kogino Jin said as if reading her mind. “The pride you have in your capabilities; you looked proud for a moment after I said that you were no pushover, which means you have a lot of training, instead of just cocky.”
“Hey!”
“You’re a martial artist, and as hard as it is to believe, a traveling one... or you were at some point. I saw you noting landmarks in the car. Not once did you look at street signs. I take it you’ve been to other countries where you couldn’t read the language. A normal person trying to remember the way would have read at least one street sign instead of methodically remembering one landmark to the next. You settled here though, enough to have your shirt ironed; I can still see traces of a neat crease on your shirt.”
“So what if I have?” she bristled.
“It means that you have a place to stay,” Kogino Jin said, “and I’m hoping that you’re not planning to leave it any time soon.”
Ranma watched Kogino Jin turn the cup in his hands. “The bag you left in the car-- I know the store it from, and they only sell designer goods. Since you're obviously not into high fashion yourself, it must be for someone else. You’re don't seem the type who’ll give into demands easily, which leaves attachment, perhaps family. Whoever the contents of that bag is for, she must be someone you care enough about to do a favor.”
“Hah!” Ranma jumped triumphantly, “I owed her. There’s no way I’d like that mercenary.” Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Ranma felt the man on the other side of the table staring at her intensely. She fought down the urge to turn away.
“Are you telling me that wouldn’t help this person if she were in trouble?”
“I... its my duty to help when I can,” she said.
“So you have a duty. Good.”
Ranma couldn’t make heads or tails of this guy. What did he see in her that he sounded so relieved at?
“You want to stay, don’t you?”
“I... yeah, they’re good people even if it’s a pain in the ass sometimes.” Ranma slammed her mouth shut. The question had come so suddenly, she answered without thinking.
Kogino Jin leaned in, steepling fingers in front of his mouth. “This is where we have common ground: You’ve finally found a home, but you need an identity for yourself-- one that won’t cause problems the police. What I’m promising you for your cooperation is that identity, as Murasaki Sayaka’s sister.”
Ranma blinked. “What?”
“She has no living family. There won't be anyone who can testify against your story. I plan to finalize the arrangements tonight with someone who works for the citizen identification registry. You can choose your own first name if you want or I could do it for you. By tomorrow, the police will see that you are part of the Murasaki family and be none-the-wiser.”
“Stop!” Ranko help up a hand. “I haven’t even told you whether or not I’ll even agree to this ridiculous plan. You still haven’t told me what you expect in return for doing this. Anyways, won’t people start asking questions when I suddenly have a new family?”
Kogino Jin smiled the kind of smile that seemed to darken the space around him. “That’s the beauty of it. What’s required to keep your new identity is the same thing that I require from you.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Become an actress to take your sister’s place.”
123123
Nabiki put the final piece on the outfit that she laid atop her bed for a date she had for the following evening. The yellow hairpin was a particularly nice touch. Applied in just the right way, it could be used brighten the ace and give the impression of innocence, which was critical to her mark.
“Well, that was a waste of time.” Nabiki zipped the whole outfit back into a garment bag, and hung it thing in her closet... for the second time that night.
Exiting her room, she went to down the living room were Kasumi sat with, hands resting on her lap. Her big sister looked calm, but Nabiki knew that her elder sister tended to retreat into herself when something was bothering her. Dad once told her that Kasumi used to be a very delicate girl who cried at the smallest provocation. Nabiki sniffed at that. Kasumi had been pure iron at the core for as long as she could remember.
“It’s almost ten,” Kasumi said.
It took Nabiki a second to interpret it as a reminder that she had promised to go out and look for Ranma with her. She scratched her head, irritated at having to go through the trouble of getting dressed when she was already in her comfy home clothes.“Too bad Dad and Uncle Saotome have gone out drinking. I could have had them find Ranma for us."
Kasumi stood, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her dress. "We should start now. I'm sure he's fine, but I'd like to make sure, and we can have a nice walk while we're at it.”
Nabiki shook her head at Kasumi's fake cheer. "All right, let me get--" she cut off when he heard heavy steps coming from the entrance. She barely managed to dodge as Kasumi whisked by, only a hair's breadth away from running into her.
Nabiki blinked away her surprise and ran after Kasumi. It was Ranma. Nabiki noticed that his hair was wet. He had changed gender recently before coming home, which was odd since he usually waited until he got home to do that.
"Oh Ranma, you're wet. You should take a bath, and I'll heat up dinner for you after." Kasumi hovered over the pigtailed boy.
"Thanks Kasumi..." Ranma said softly, "I'm okay. Could you put the food in the fridge? I'll come down and eat on my own later."
"Saotome," Nabiki said.
Ranma held the paper bag towards her, and she took the handle automatically. "The bag got a little damp and wrinkled. Insides should be fine though."
She watched Ranma leadenly put one foot in front of the other. Something really must have happened today to sap that much energy from him. A prickling sensation danced across the back of her neck. Kasumi was staring at her without any anger, ire, or disappointment. She was just... staring.
Nabiki took a step back, feeling sweat beading on her forehead. "What?"
"I do hope you talk to him. After he's rested a little, maybe?" Kasumi's smile was blindingly angelic.
"Uh... I don't think that's a good idea. You saw him. He's tired. We should leave him alone until he'd good and ready to tell us what happened. He's a little worse for wear. You know Ranma; he'll bounce back soon enough."
Kasumi said nothing. The subtle pressure settling on Nabiki intensified.
"Hey! If you're so dead set on him talking to someone, why don't you do it?"
Kasumi bit her lip, "I would... but I shouldn't deny you the chance to make this better."
'Make things all better?' What did she mean by that? Synapses fired in her head, reviewing what had just taken place until she reached a conclusion.
"How was I-- There was no-- arrgh, fine!" Nabiki stamped her foot on the floor, though not hard enough to make a loud thud. Kasumi was implying that it was her fault, and a small part of her agreed regardless of whether or not what had happened to him was her doing. "How long do you think we should wait?" She said, surrendering.
"Half an hour should be enough..." Kasumi cutely put a finger to her bottom lip, the pressure she had been emitting suddenly gone. "I'll go make some tea while we wait!"
Kasumi left to make tea, leaving Nabiki to regain her mental balance. The woman could be scary at times.
123123
Ranma lay on his side atop his futon, blanket strewn to the side, unblinking. It was half-past ten and he was exhausted, yet his eyes refused to droop even a little. The sound of the door opening behind him was followed by a soft metallic ring. His hand instinctively shot out, catching the object without looking. Bringing the object to his face, he made out an image of a Buddhist temple embossed on coppery metal.
"Ten yen for your thoughts?" came a voice he recognized as Nabiki's.
With some resistance, he forced himself to roll over then sit cross-legged. The middle daughter was leaning against the doorframe, one arm propped on her hips.
"Ten yen?" Ranma eyed her questioningly.
Nabiki shrugged. "So I'm feeling generous."
Ranma put a hand on his neck. "Yeah... well, not that I'm complaining or nothin', but what are you doing here? If this is about the scarf, I did the best I could." He paused. "I guess you're not gonna cancel what I owe, huh? Could you at least let me off with a warning?" Had the day gone differently, Ranma probably would have been disgusted at his pleading, but he really wanted her to go away.
"Scarf?" Nabiki blinked. "I haven't checked, honestly. I'm pretty sure it didn't get damaged, but I'm not here for that. What's wrong, Saotome?"
"Why are you so interested?" Ranma regarded her with a sideways glance. "You won't get any pocket money from this. I'm already broke."
"Kasumi's been implying that I'm the one at fault." Nabiki ran a hand through her hair. "She's not going to let up until I've done what she wants. Worse, she might get mad, and trust me, that's not gonna be pretty."
Nabiki looked away, but not fast enough to avoid letting Ranma see her grimace. If he was right, she thought she had revealed too much. It was the first time he was truly sure that Nabiki had lost control of her mouth. Why? She couldn't really be worried about him, could she?
She didn't deserve forgiveness, not after all that crap she'd pulled, but Kasumi was behind her offer to listen, and.... No, if he was honest with himself, he simply needed someone to talk to or he'd burst. Asking plainly for help left him feeling to vulnerable. Nabiki had already offered though, which, as stupid as that would seem to most people, made the crucial difference.
"Back when I was hiding from mom, you said things to her that could have gotten me killed--"
"You're still dwelling on that?" Nabiki interrupted, "And people call me petty. Get over it, Saotome."
"Let me finish, dangit!" Ranma snapped. It was hard enough to do this without her acting all defensive. He eyed her wearily. She didn't open her mouth again. Did his frustration finally reach her?
"When Akane asked you why you did it, were you telling the truth?"
"What is this?" Nabiki stopped leaning on the door frame and glared. "Twenty-Questions? What does this have to do with what happened today? If you don't want to tell me, then fine, but you better tell Kasumi that I fixed things or you'll pay."
"Answer me, Nabiki. Were you telling the truth?" Ranma met eyes head on. Maybe he should have gone to Kasumi, it would have been easier than this.
"About forgiving you for 250 yen?" Nabiki said lightly, "Why of course. In fact, I'm willing to let it go right now if you hand it over."
"That's not what I'm asking and you know it." He just couldn't understand why she was like this. The more he dug, the more she tried to hold out against him. How could she be so maddeningly stubborn?
"I suppose you want me to tell you that it wasn't an act," she said flatly. "That I really missed my mom and that I did want you to meet your mom as a man."
Ranma reeled back, thinking that she really had been pretending, and she was nothing more than a cold bitch, and then something she said clicked.
"You wouldn't sell your forgiveness cheap, Tendo Nabiki."
Nabiki looked at him wide eyed before she smiled bemusedly. "Just when I thought I had you pegged, you pull this. I was mostly annoyed about how you were wasting the chance to meet your mom. She wouldn't have forced you to commit ritual suicide...probably."
"Words cannot describe how much you suck," Ranma said with little heat. "Will you promise that you won't use anything you hear against me? Will you swear it on your bank account?"
"My bank account?" Nabiki put a finger to her bottom lip. "That's a pretty heavy oath you're asking... I'm not sure I'm can commit--"
"Swear it!"
"Okay, fine. I swear, I swear." Nabiki . "So what's with all the buildup? It better be huge if you're going through all this trouble."
Ranma took a deep breath. "I'm gonna be an actress."
The arm Nabiki had on her waist slipped. She stared at Ranma for a moment, wide eyed, before pulling the door open yelling out, "Kasumi--!"
Ranma had scrambled to block the last of what Nabiki was going to say with a hand to her mouth, dragging her back into the room and locking the door with a toe to the knob as he did so.
"What the heck are you doing?!" He let go of Nabiki's mouth and unconsciously wiped the hand on his shirt, eliciting a frown from the middle Tendo.
Nabiki crossed her arms. "Getting some help in case you've finally gone crazy?"
Ranma sat back down on his futon, hands braced against his knees. "I can explain. Just give me a chance, will you?"
There was a knock on that door. "Nabiki? Ranma?" It was Kasumi. "Is everything all right?"
He could tell from the way Nabiki was tapping a finger on one arm that she was considering her options. Ranma silently mouthed the word 'please', and put his hands together to beg her.
Finally, Nabiki rubbed her forehead and said, "Yeah, Kasumi. Everything's under control."
"Okay," Kasumi said after a moment of silence, "I'll be downstairs though if you need anything."
"We're fine," Ranma said, genuinely grateful for her concern. "Thanks, Kasumi."
Ranma breathed a sigh of relief at the softening footfalls away from his room.
Nabiki cleared her throat. "Well?"
"Ah... yeah, that." Ranma fiddled with his blanket. "It happened at the train station. I met this woman at the station." He paused. "Hey Nabiki, you watch TV drama's right? Does Murasaki Sayaka sound familiar?"
"No idea. I watch a few shows, but I'm no drama hound. We could ask Kasumi, but I doubt she'd recognize the name either. She mostly watches documentaries and cooking shows. Akane?"
Ranma grimaced. He supposed they would all find out sooner or later. On the other hand, he really wanted to put it off as much as possible. It wasn't like he could just back out of the bargain.
"Okay, you saw Murasaki Sayaka at the station?" Nabiki prodded. "What's the big deal?"
"She... jumped." Ranma said, poking at his futon. "I was there Nabiki, I saw her jump. It's different from my challenges; blood there just washes off, and... it never got so bad that someone got really hurt." Ranma laughed humorlessly. "I never thought of it that way before. All this time, I knew that the art was dangerous. I tried to keep to clearings and stuff, but I never tried very hard. What if--- what if Hiro or Dai got hurt? Sayuri? Yuka? Maybe even your friends... crap, Kasumi? I get challenged here all the time."
"Get a hold of yourself, Saotome," Nabiki's said, voice hard. "You're being stupid, even for you. How did you jump from what Murasaki Sayaka did to your fights? You've trained, and you know what you're doing. Remember when the balcony gave out and you caught me?"
"Akane--"
"is a trained martial artist," she finished his sentence. "She was fine. There's absolutely no connection. You said she jumped, Ranma, on her own, without any involvement on your part.... you did have nothing to do with her jumping, right?"
"Of course not!" Ranma stood to face Nabiki, and realized that there wasn't a trace of suspicion in her eyes. It had been to bring him out of his funk, though hell would freeze over before he thanked her for it.
"I saved her. She'd be a lot worse off than in a coma if I hadn't caught her after the train hit." He said, trying to suppress the memories of that damp, limp body in his arms.
"At least she's alive," Nabiki mused. "What does this have to do with you becoming an actress?"
"I was getting to that," Ranma said, a hint of irritation creeping in. "She looks like me. It's like someone took my face, changed the hair and eyes, and then aged it a few years."
Nabiki tilted her head. "That doesn’t make it sound as if there'd be much of a resemblance."
"It was enough that some cop decided we were related," Ranma said, frowning. "He didn't believe that I'd never seen the woman before. Oh, right..." Ranma hopped over to a pile of clothes that he had left in the corner. Digging out the shirt that he had been wearing, he put a hand into one pocket. "I forgot that the agent gave me one of these-- didn't think I'd need it." He handed Nabiki a new but wrinkled picture.
Nabiki sat down on the floor heavily, picture grasped in hand. "Gee Ranma, it's never boring with you is it? I can't say I see what you do, but there's definitely a strong resemblance there."
"This isn't the same." Ranma clenched his fists. "She's not some shadow, incense, or mirror clone. She isn't even like Copycat Ken."
"Who?"
"The practitioner of martial mimicry who's able to copy moves and physical appearance by taking pictures."
"Nope, doesn't ring a bell." Nabiki responded.
"C'mon!" Ranma threw up his hands. "He can't be that hard to remember. For crying out loud, you can give me the amount I owe you down to the yen. How come you can't even remember someone who can change into the old freak with the whirl of a cloth?"
"Oh?" Nabiki arched an eyebrow. "There are a lot of weirdoes that come this way. I can't be expected to keep track of them all. If your memory is so good, why don't you prove it by showing me that you know something that'll actually help make your life easier?"
"Like what?" Ranma asked skeptically. Remembering fighting styles was important; it was the key to surviving whatever new exotic techniques were thrown his way. He remembered plenty of useful things.
"I don't know... Akane's birthday, for instance?"
"Hah, that's easy!" he began, "It's... uhh, March. No. Ferbruary-- dangit, this isn't the time for that!"
The self-satisfied look on Nabiki's face told him that he had lost despite his efforts to cover up. Cutting his losses, he went on, "She's real, Nabiki. I can't fight this like I normally do, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Her life is already messing with mine. I was being grilled by some cop when her agent bailed me out-- a pretty boy who introduced himself as Kogino Jin. He played along with the cop's suspicions before bringing in a lawyer. It all happened so fast."
"It would be pretty bad if you appeared on national television as Soatome Ranma. I'm not eager to find out how many fiancées Uncle Genma set up are still searching for you." Switching topics she said, "I'm guessing he stuck you with the role of playing a relative of Murasaki Kyoko."
"Ugh, how could I forget about the fiancées? Stupid Pop." Ranma shook his head. "No, I'm more than a relative; I'm her illegitimate half-sister. As far as the family registries are concerned, I'm Murasaki Ranko. Since mom never registered my girl side, no one will be able to dispute it. My reward, if you can call it that, is full control of the identity-- birth certificate, social insurance number, the whole package."
Nabiki whistled. "He arranged this all within half a day?"
"Yeah..." Ranma said, "He has a friend at the registrar's, and he said he has the means to get the other stuff done after, which I don’t doubt. He needs them to keep up appearances. The man's not normal. I tried to get him to come off the stupid actress idea by showing him I was really a guy. All he said was that 'he could still use me.'
Everything's a series of calculations to him. Murasaki Sayaka's blood is still hot on the pavement, and he moves on like it's business as usual. There's no way to run either. Kogino Jin told me flat out that if I don't hold up my end, he'll reveal Murasaki Ranko as a fake and that I had something to do with Murasaki Sayaka's attempted suicide. That cop at the station seemed like he was convinced I was part of the cause. Considering how much I've seen him do, Kogino Jin might be able to make good on his threat."
"He might be bluffing," Nabiki considered. "He might be playing you for a chump. Do you have any proof he isn't just?"
Ranma frowned. He hadn't considered that before. "We visited the lady working as a registrar at her place. The forms I filled out looked official, and she had a professional setup ready to take my picture."
Nabiki shook her head. "Not good enough, she may have been in on the con. Do you remember the address?"
"Err... I could take you there, but I don't have the address. She said she'd have something ready by tomorrow though."
"That's no good. There's not enough time." Nabiki massaged a temple. "You've really stepped into it, Saotome. You could go back to the police, I suppose-- reveal the truth before Jin does so he has no cards against you. Then again, without a new identity to cover your tracks, your curse will be all over the news. Can you trust him to keep his word at least?"
Ranma nodded, "For now. He's going to use me until either Murasaki Sayaka wakes or when I'm good enough to act as the lead in a project he'd been working on. He didn't tell me what kind of project it was, but he did say that it was going to be a period drama. I don't want the others to meet him though. I can tell he's not evil, but he's not going to shy away from using any of you as leverage against me, or as another piece in whatever other plans he may have."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"I have to meet him tomorrow morning to start learning how to become an actress. Can you cover for me?"
"Won't be too difficult." Nabiki said. "It's better that no one else gets involved. If he's as good as you say he is, it'll be a huge headache for me in the long run. Well, first things first. Dad and Uncle Saotome will probably be hung over and I'll take care of it if they wake too early. Akane's a little too nosy though. You'll owe me big for keeping her in the dark. When are you meeting up?"
"8 o'clock at the empty lot near the river."
"Remember to get some proof that he can create an identity for you from scratch. If he backs out of giving you anything tomorrow for me to verify, I'd consider it a pretty clear that he isn’t legit. I don't want to do all this work for nothing." She reached for the door, "Get some sleep-- it's your ass on the line and you should be awake to cover it. You really are much more trouble than you're worth."
Ranma stuck his tongue out at her. "I'll try not to be too much of a bother."
Nabiki chuckled and opened the door. "Seriously though, be careful, Saotome. For all our sakes."
"I'll will." Ranma hesitated. "Nabiki? When is Akane's birthday?"
She held out an open palm. "1000 yen."
Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the laughing Nabiki as she made her getaway. Surprisingly, after talking to Nabiki, things didn't seem so bad. He couldn't see a way yet, but he'd get even with Kogino Jin somehow. In the mean time, cooperating might not hurt so much. Who knows? Murasaki Sayaka might wake tomorrow."
Author's Notes:
My biggest concern here is Nabiki's characterization. On that note, http://www.mangavolume.com/index.php?se ... page_nr=12 has Nabiki showing concern for Ranma in an oblique way.
Thanks to my prereader Fallacy.
She understood the habits of normal teenagers, being out until eight o’clock wouldn’t warrant a second thought from most parents-- let alone siblings. Then again, Ranma was far from ordinary. Since the two years he’d come to the dojo, he hadn’t missed a single dinner without good reason.
Since Ranma and his father Mister Saotome came, her family was just that much brighter: Father was no longer in his half-waking slump, Nabiki no longer seemed so distant, and Akane smiled more... though her youngest sister also got angry more often. For these reasons, for accomplishing what all her playing house could not, Kasumi forgave the Saotomes’ many flaws, and accepted them as part of her family.
Akane had returned well before dinner from her summer activities with the drama club, and had said she hadn't seen Ranma all day when Kasumi asked her. A call to Ukyo’s and the Nekohanten turned up nothing as well. Ranma didn’t go many places so Kasumi had quickly run out of leads, which left her waiting at the family room, tea in hand and a plate of food at her side.
Footsteps came from the hallway, Nabiki, carrying folded clothes in her arms, stepped into the hallway.
“Kasumi?” her little sister said, eyes darting to the food Kasumi had set aside before returning to her. “If you’re waiting
for Ranma, I’m not sure where he is. I sent him out on an errand hours ago, he should have been back.”
Leave it to Nabiki to read her mind from a few clues. Kasumi hid her smile; however, Nabiki was far from unreadable when you knew what to look for. She had always been closer to Nabiki. They understood each other in a way that they didn’t Akane, who they both saw as their baby sister. That Nabiki puzzled out what she was thinking so quickly meant that she was doing the same.
“An errand?” Kasumi didn’t frown-- though she came pretty close. The rain had stopped over an hour ago. “You don’t think he got caught in the rain, did he? But why didn’t he call home?”
Nabiki scratched her cheek, causing Kasumi to narrow her eyes.
“Ahehehe… I… may have cleaned him out before I sent him off.”
“Nabiki!”
She held up he hands in a placating gesture that resembled their father. “Now now, Kasumi. How was I supposed to know that the rain would last this long? Besides, the doofus should have arrived by now-- and that was the wrong thing to say.” Nabiki sighed at seeing Kasumi bite her lip.
“Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can go look for him. Let’s give him another hour. Ranma can take care of himself, and you wouldn’t want him to come home to an empty house and a cold meal would you?”
Kasumi fidgeted, propriety and instinct warring inside her. “I…. suppose you’re right--”
“Good.” Nabiki grinned. “I’m going to get clean. This humidity is something else. How can you stand being in that dress?”
Kasumi would have told Nabiki if her sister had cared enough to listen.
Perhaps stronger tea was in order….
123123
Draw the Curtain:
Chapter 1
By
ToastedPine
123123
The rain had cleared, leaving the air pleasantly cool. Ranma followed the agent out of the police station, shame filling her down to the toes for allowing herself to be led along. All she could think of was that she was getting away. She knew that whoever this Kogino Jin was, he’d make her regret it later, but the relief of not having his curse revealed though the mass media was messing with her ability to think long term about anything else. There was a big difference between the kids at school, who he generally knew were harmless, and all of Japan. As much as it had become part of his life, Ranma didn’t like the curse. There were always people doubting her manhood or splashing her with water to satisfy their curiosity. Ucchan had only stopped after Ranma had gotten wrinkly on the day the made up.
“Why the heck did you lie to the cops? When they find out, we’re both going to jail!”
Kogino Jin took off dark-tinted glasses, revealing slate-grey eyes that seemed to draw the surrounding heat.
“You’re glad that you’re out of there,” he said without the least bit of doubt. “I don’t expect your thanks, nor should you give it. I’ve done what I have for my own interests.”
Ranma’s hands twitched, she wanted to teach the guy a lesson, but she couldn’t. Pop never had told him outright that hitting non martial artists was bad, but not once had she seen him fight non-martial artists unless they were after him with lethal intent. Genma said a lot of things and did precious little, but the fat panda did still have a shred of decency in him... threadbare as it was.
“I see.” Ranma glared. “So that’s it? Are we done? Because if we are, I’m going to get started on lying low, and if you’re smart, so should you. Why are you even here?”
"I was informed while they were administering first aid. By the time I arrived, they had already relocated her. I overheard some of the station staff mention a brave young woman who might have been a sister to the woman who has attempted to committed suicide. There was nothing to be done for Sayaka so I stayed."
Ranma couldn't believe the man. His tone was so causal that he may as well have been talking about going to the car wash. "You're either crazy or one cold sunovabitch. I don't care either way. Have a nice life, pal." She began to walk away.
“What if I told you I could make it so that I wasn’t lying?” Jin asked.
Ranma stopped, turning slowly. “And how do you propose to do that?” she barked a laugh. “You know what? Don't say a thing. Even if you could pull it off, what do you think I could possibly do for you? You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t need to,” Kogino Jin said. “All that I require is before me. What is your decision? If you want to leave, then leave. I am not going to force you to listen, but I also don’t appreciate having my time wasted.”
Ranma ground her teeth; she didn’t want to give this guy an inch. It better be one heck of an explanation. If not, well, the smug bastard was going to be given just enough rope to hang himself, martial artist or not.
She crossed her arms. “Fine. Talk.”
“I’d rather not speak in front of the police station, if you don’t mind,” Kogino Jin said dryly, causing Ranma’s cheeks to redden in embarrassment. “There’s a drinking establishment not too far from here that I need to visit, we can take my car.”
“Lead the way, Jerk.”
123123
They parked in a small lot behind an equally tiny building. A single street lamp at the front of the sidewalk by the building was the only source of illumination. Moths fluttered towards the dim light, creating flickering shadows. Kogino Jin got out of the car and headed for the building’s single, central back door. Ranma trailed two paces behind.
Upon closer inspection Ranma saw that it was a steel door, painted a rusty red. There were no identifying markings of what the place was.
Kogino Jin knocked twice, and the door swung open on its own. A long narrow flight of stairs lined on either side by red brick lay before them, going down further into the ground. They climbed down and reached another door, this time, with a red pilot light mounted above, and a surveillance camera extended from a metal shaft from the brick. The camera focused on them, and the pilot light turned green. Kogino Jin pushed on the latch and swung the door open.
Soft jazz, the gleam of polished redwood counters, and civil conversation flowed into Ranma as she stared wide eyed. It was a heck of a lot classier than the discount sushi restaurants she had visited on occasion. People lounged and dined amiably, some giving Ranma a questioning glance as they were passed, but no one ever said anything. Kogino Jin was smiling and nodding, exchanging polite silent greetings with almost everyone including a man in his fifties who Ranma guessed was the proprietor.
They settled at a table separated from the bar by a sturdy wooden screen. A moment later, the proprietor provided them with two steaming cups and a pitcher of cream, bowing modestly before returning to his station.
Ranma lifted the cup, giving it a precursory sniff, which filling his senses with the rich, earthy aroma of coffee. Almost without thinking, she brought the cup to her lips and drew a mouthful, nearly gasping at the taste. Even taken black, the coffee was smooth and barely bitter. After being soaked to the bone and then left to air-dry at the station, it was like a warm hug.
“This is Sanae’s, named after its original owner.” The agent lifted his cup. “A space created exclusively for the famous to forget about the pressures of being under the public eye. There are a few rules in effect while we are in this establishment. None of them are binding, but everyone follows them all the same. One of these rules involve keeping silent about the affairs of all other patrons. We will not be disturbed.”
Ranma drained her cup and placed it back on its saucer. “Nice that you’re giving me the whole tour and all that, but why don’t you get to the point already? What makes you think I want anything you have to offer?”
Kogino Jin languidly stirred sugar into his coffee, and then placed the silver spoon on his napkin. “You don’t want the police to know who you are, not even your name. You might have a criminal record, but you don’t have the presence of a thug. However, from the way you unconsciously hold yourself like a coiled spring at all times, you’re no pushover in a fight.” He took the dark-tinted glasses from his pocket and pushed it over the bridge of his nose. “I see that you’ll need to be taught how to hide your emotions.”
“What are you talking about?” Ranma snapped a little too much for her own liking. He had been making very general guesses so far, but he was right, which annoyed her to no end.
“Not your temper,” Kogino Jin said as if reading her mind. “The pride you have in your capabilities; you looked proud for a moment after I said that you were no pushover, which means you have a lot of training, instead of just cocky.”
“Hey!”
“You’re a martial artist, and as hard as it is to believe, a traveling one... or you were at some point. I saw you noting landmarks in the car. Not once did you look at street signs. I take it you’ve been to other countries where you couldn’t read the language. A normal person trying to remember the way would have read at least one street sign instead of methodically remembering one landmark to the next. You settled here though, enough to have your shirt ironed; I can still see traces of a neat crease on your shirt.”
“So what if I have?” she bristled.
“It means that you have a place to stay,” Kogino Jin said, “and I’m hoping that you’re not planning to leave it any time soon.”
Ranma watched Kogino Jin turn the cup in his hands. “The bag you left in the car-- I know the store it from, and they only sell designer goods. Since you're obviously not into high fashion yourself, it must be for someone else. You’re don't seem the type who’ll give into demands easily, which leaves attachment, perhaps family. Whoever the contents of that bag is for, she must be someone you care enough about to do a favor.”
“Hah!” Ranma jumped triumphantly, “I owed her. There’s no way I’d like that mercenary.” Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Ranma felt the man on the other side of the table staring at her intensely. She fought down the urge to turn away.
“Are you telling me that wouldn’t help this person if she were in trouble?”
“I... its my duty to help when I can,” she said.
“So you have a duty. Good.”
Ranma couldn’t make heads or tails of this guy. What did he see in her that he sounded so relieved at?
“You want to stay, don’t you?”
“I... yeah, they’re good people even if it’s a pain in the ass sometimes.” Ranma slammed her mouth shut. The question had come so suddenly, she answered without thinking.
Kogino Jin leaned in, steepling fingers in front of his mouth. “This is where we have common ground: You’ve finally found a home, but you need an identity for yourself-- one that won’t cause problems the police. What I’m promising you for your cooperation is that identity, as Murasaki Sayaka’s sister.”
Ranma blinked. “What?”
“She has no living family. There won't be anyone who can testify against your story. I plan to finalize the arrangements tonight with someone who works for the citizen identification registry. You can choose your own first name if you want or I could do it for you. By tomorrow, the police will see that you are part of the Murasaki family and be none-the-wiser.”
“Stop!” Ranko help up a hand. “I haven’t even told you whether or not I’ll even agree to this ridiculous plan. You still haven’t told me what you expect in return for doing this. Anyways, won’t people start asking questions when I suddenly have a new family?”
Kogino Jin smiled the kind of smile that seemed to darken the space around him. “That’s the beauty of it. What’s required to keep your new identity is the same thing that I require from you.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Become an actress to take your sister’s place.”
123123
Nabiki put the final piece on the outfit that she laid atop her bed for a date she had for the following evening. The yellow hairpin was a particularly nice touch. Applied in just the right way, it could be used brighten the ace and give the impression of innocence, which was critical to her mark.
“Well, that was a waste of time.” Nabiki zipped the whole outfit back into a garment bag, and hung it thing in her closet... for the second time that night.
Exiting her room, she went to down the living room were Kasumi sat with, hands resting on her lap. Her big sister looked calm, but Nabiki knew that her elder sister tended to retreat into herself when something was bothering her. Dad once told her that Kasumi used to be a very delicate girl who cried at the smallest provocation. Nabiki sniffed at that. Kasumi had been pure iron at the core for as long as she could remember.
“It’s almost ten,” Kasumi said.
It took Nabiki a second to interpret it as a reminder that she had promised to go out and look for Ranma with her. She scratched her head, irritated at having to go through the trouble of getting dressed when she was already in her comfy home clothes.“Too bad Dad and Uncle Saotome have gone out drinking. I could have had them find Ranma for us."
Kasumi stood, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her dress. "We should start now. I'm sure he's fine, but I'd like to make sure, and we can have a nice walk while we're at it.”
Nabiki shook her head at Kasumi's fake cheer. "All right, let me get--" she cut off when he heard heavy steps coming from the entrance. She barely managed to dodge as Kasumi whisked by, only a hair's breadth away from running into her.
Nabiki blinked away her surprise and ran after Kasumi. It was Ranma. Nabiki noticed that his hair was wet. He had changed gender recently before coming home, which was odd since he usually waited until he got home to do that.
"Oh Ranma, you're wet. You should take a bath, and I'll heat up dinner for you after." Kasumi hovered over the pigtailed boy.
"Thanks Kasumi..." Ranma said softly, "I'm okay. Could you put the food in the fridge? I'll come down and eat on my own later."
"Saotome," Nabiki said.
Ranma held the paper bag towards her, and she took the handle automatically. "The bag got a little damp and wrinkled. Insides should be fine though."
She watched Ranma leadenly put one foot in front of the other. Something really must have happened today to sap that much energy from him. A prickling sensation danced across the back of her neck. Kasumi was staring at her without any anger, ire, or disappointment. She was just... staring.
Nabiki took a step back, feeling sweat beading on her forehead. "What?"
"I do hope you talk to him. After he's rested a little, maybe?" Kasumi's smile was blindingly angelic.
"Uh... I don't think that's a good idea. You saw him. He's tired. We should leave him alone until he'd good and ready to tell us what happened. He's a little worse for wear. You know Ranma; he'll bounce back soon enough."
Kasumi said nothing. The subtle pressure settling on Nabiki intensified.
"Hey! If you're so dead set on him talking to someone, why don't you do it?"
Kasumi bit her lip, "I would... but I shouldn't deny you the chance to make this better."
'Make things all better?' What did she mean by that? Synapses fired in her head, reviewing what had just taken place until she reached a conclusion.
"How was I-- There was no-- arrgh, fine!" Nabiki stamped her foot on the floor, though not hard enough to make a loud thud. Kasumi was implying that it was her fault, and a small part of her agreed regardless of whether or not what had happened to him was her doing. "How long do you think we should wait?" She said, surrendering.
"Half an hour should be enough..." Kasumi cutely put a finger to her bottom lip, the pressure she had been emitting suddenly gone. "I'll go make some tea while we wait!"
Kasumi left to make tea, leaving Nabiki to regain her mental balance. The woman could be scary at times.
123123
Ranma lay on his side atop his futon, blanket strewn to the side, unblinking. It was half-past ten and he was exhausted, yet his eyes refused to droop even a little. The sound of the door opening behind him was followed by a soft metallic ring. His hand instinctively shot out, catching the object without looking. Bringing the object to his face, he made out an image of a Buddhist temple embossed on coppery metal.
"Ten yen for your thoughts?" came a voice he recognized as Nabiki's.
With some resistance, he forced himself to roll over then sit cross-legged. The middle daughter was leaning against the doorframe, one arm propped on her hips.
"Ten yen?" Ranma eyed her questioningly.
Nabiki shrugged. "So I'm feeling generous."
Ranma put a hand on his neck. "Yeah... well, not that I'm complaining or nothin', but what are you doing here? If this is about the scarf, I did the best I could." He paused. "I guess you're not gonna cancel what I owe, huh? Could you at least let me off with a warning?" Had the day gone differently, Ranma probably would have been disgusted at his pleading, but he really wanted her to go away.
"Scarf?" Nabiki blinked. "I haven't checked, honestly. I'm pretty sure it didn't get damaged, but I'm not here for that. What's wrong, Saotome?"
"Why are you so interested?" Ranma regarded her with a sideways glance. "You won't get any pocket money from this. I'm already broke."
"Kasumi's been implying that I'm the one at fault." Nabiki ran a hand through her hair. "She's not going to let up until I've done what she wants. Worse, she might get mad, and trust me, that's not gonna be pretty."
Nabiki looked away, but not fast enough to avoid letting Ranma see her grimace. If he was right, she thought she had revealed too much. It was the first time he was truly sure that Nabiki had lost control of her mouth. Why? She couldn't really be worried about him, could she?
She didn't deserve forgiveness, not after all that crap she'd pulled, but Kasumi was behind her offer to listen, and.... No, if he was honest with himself, he simply needed someone to talk to or he'd burst. Asking plainly for help left him feeling to vulnerable. Nabiki had already offered though, which, as stupid as that would seem to most people, made the crucial difference.
"Back when I was hiding from mom, you said things to her that could have gotten me killed--"
"You're still dwelling on that?" Nabiki interrupted, "And people call me petty. Get over it, Saotome."
"Let me finish, dangit!" Ranma snapped. It was hard enough to do this without her acting all defensive. He eyed her wearily. She didn't open her mouth again. Did his frustration finally reach her?
"When Akane asked you why you did it, were you telling the truth?"
"What is this?" Nabiki stopped leaning on the door frame and glared. "Twenty-Questions? What does this have to do with what happened today? If you don't want to tell me, then fine, but you better tell Kasumi that I fixed things or you'll pay."
"Answer me, Nabiki. Were you telling the truth?" Ranma met eyes head on. Maybe he should have gone to Kasumi, it would have been easier than this.
"About forgiving you for 250 yen?" Nabiki said lightly, "Why of course. In fact, I'm willing to let it go right now if you hand it over."
"That's not what I'm asking and you know it." He just couldn't understand why she was like this. The more he dug, the more she tried to hold out against him. How could she be so maddeningly stubborn?
"I suppose you want me to tell you that it wasn't an act," she said flatly. "That I really missed my mom and that I did want you to meet your mom as a man."
Ranma reeled back, thinking that she really had been pretending, and she was nothing more than a cold bitch, and then something she said clicked.
"You wouldn't sell your forgiveness cheap, Tendo Nabiki."
Nabiki looked at him wide eyed before she smiled bemusedly. "Just when I thought I had you pegged, you pull this. I was mostly annoyed about how you were wasting the chance to meet your mom. She wouldn't have forced you to commit ritual suicide...probably."
"Words cannot describe how much you suck," Ranma said with little heat. "Will you promise that you won't use anything you hear against me? Will you swear it on your bank account?"
"My bank account?" Nabiki put a finger to her bottom lip. "That's a pretty heavy oath you're asking... I'm not sure I'm can commit--"
"Swear it!"
"Okay, fine. I swear, I swear." Nabiki . "So what's with all the buildup? It better be huge if you're going through all this trouble."
Ranma took a deep breath. "I'm gonna be an actress."
The arm Nabiki had on her waist slipped. She stared at Ranma for a moment, wide eyed, before pulling the door open yelling out, "Kasumi--!"
Ranma had scrambled to block the last of what Nabiki was going to say with a hand to her mouth, dragging her back into the room and locking the door with a toe to the knob as he did so.
"What the heck are you doing?!" He let go of Nabiki's mouth and unconsciously wiped the hand on his shirt, eliciting a frown from the middle Tendo.
Nabiki crossed her arms. "Getting some help in case you've finally gone crazy?"
Ranma sat back down on his futon, hands braced against his knees. "I can explain. Just give me a chance, will you?"
There was a knock on that door. "Nabiki? Ranma?" It was Kasumi. "Is everything all right?"
He could tell from the way Nabiki was tapping a finger on one arm that she was considering her options. Ranma silently mouthed the word 'please', and put his hands together to beg her.
Finally, Nabiki rubbed her forehead and said, "Yeah, Kasumi. Everything's under control."
"Okay," Kasumi said after a moment of silence, "I'll be downstairs though if you need anything."
"We're fine," Ranma said, genuinely grateful for her concern. "Thanks, Kasumi."
Ranma breathed a sigh of relief at the softening footfalls away from his room.
Nabiki cleared her throat. "Well?"
"Ah... yeah, that." Ranma fiddled with his blanket. "It happened at the train station. I met this woman at the station." He paused. "Hey Nabiki, you watch TV drama's right? Does Murasaki Sayaka sound familiar?"
"No idea. I watch a few shows, but I'm no drama hound. We could ask Kasumi, but I doubt she'd recognize the name either. She mostly watches documentaries and cooking shows. Akane?"
Ranma grimaced. He supposed they would all find out sooner or later. On the other hand, he really wanted to put it off as much as possible. It wasn't like he could just back out of the bargain.
"Okay, you saw Murasaki Sayaka at the station?" Nabiki prodded. "What's the big deal?"
"She... jumped." Ranma said, poking at his futon. "I was there Nabiki, I saw her jump. It's different from my challenges; blood there just washes off, and... it never got so bad that someone got really hurt." Ranma laughed humorlessly. "I never thought of it that way before. All this time, I knew that the art was dangerous. I tried to keep to clearings and stuff, but I never tried very hard. What if--- what if Hiro or Dai got hurt? Sayuri? Yuka? Maybe even your friends... crap, Kasumi? I get challenged here all the time."
"Get a hold of yourself, Saotome," Nabiki's said, voice hard. "You're being stupid, even for you. How did you jump from what Murasaki Sayaka did to your fights? You've trained, and you know what you're doing. Remember when the balcony gave out and you caught me?"
"Akane--"
"is a trained martial artist," she finished his sentence. "She was fine. There's absolutely no connection. You said she jumped, Ranma, on her own, without any involvement on your part.... you did have nothing to do with her jumping, right?"
"Of course not!" Ranma stood to face Nabiki, and realized that there wasn't a trace of suspicion in her eyes. It had been to bring him out of his funk, though hell would freeze over before he thanked her for it.
"I saved her. She'd be a lot worse off than in a coma if I hadn't caught her after the train hit." He said, trying to suppress the memories of that damp, limp body in his arms.
"At least she's alive," Nabiki mused. "What does this have to do with you becoming an actress?"
"I was getting to that," Ranma said, a hint of irritation creeping in. "She looks like me. It's like someone took my face, changed the hair and eyes, and then aged it a few years."
Nabiki tilted her head. "That doesn’t make it sound as if there'd be much of a resemblance."
"It was enough that some cop decided we were related," Ranma said, frowning. "He didn't believe that I'd never seen the woman before. Oh, right..." Ranma hopped over to a pile of clothes that he had left in the corner. Digging out the shirt that he had been wearing, he put a hand into one pocket. "I forgot that the agent gave me one of these-- didn't think I'd need it." He handed Nabiki a new but wrinkled picture.
Nabiki sat down on the floor heavily, picture grasped in hand. "Gee Ranma, it's never boring with you is it? I can't say I see what you do, but there's definitely a strong resemblance there."
"This isn't the same." Ranma clenched his fists. "She's not some shadow, incense, or mirror clone. She isn't even like Copycat Ken."
"Who?"
"The practitioner of martial mimicry who's able to copy moves and physical appearance by taking pictures."
"Nope, doesn't ring a bell." Nabiki responded.
"C'mon!" Ranma threw up his hands. "He can't be that hard to remember. For crying out loud, you can give me the amount I owe you down to the yen. How come you can't even remember someone who can change into the old freak with the whirl of a cloth?"
"Oh?" Nabiki arched an eyebrow. "There are a lot of weirdoes that come this way. I can't be expected to keep track of them all. If your memory is so good, why don't you prove it by showing me that you know something that'll actually help make your life easier?"
"Like what?" Ranma asked skeptically. Remembering fighting styles was important; it was the key to surviving whatever new exotic techniques were thrown his way. He remembered plenty of useful things.
"I don't know... Akane's birthday, for instance?"
"Hah, that's easy!" he began, "It's... uhh, March. No. Ferbruary-- dangit, this isn't the time for that!"
The self-satisfied look on Nabiki's face told him that he had lost despite his efforts to cover up. Cutting his losses, he went on, "She's real, Nabiki. I can't fight this like I normally do, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Her life is already messing with mine. I was being grilled by some cop when her agent bailed me out-- a pretty boy who introduced himself as Kogino Jin. He played along with the cop's suspicions before bringing in a lawyer. It all happened so fast."
"It would be pretty bad if you appeared on national television as Soatome Ranma. I'm not eager to find out how many fiancées Uncle Genma set up are still searching for you." Switching topics she said, "I'm guessing he stuck you with the role of playing a relative of Murasaki Kyoko."
"Ugh, how could I forget about the fiancées? Stupid Pop." Ranma shook his head. "No, I'm more than a relative; I'm her illegitimate half-sister. As far as the family registries are concerned, I'm Murasaki Ranko. Since mom never registered my girl side, no one will be able to dispute it. My reward, if you can call it that, is full control of the identity-- birth certificate, social insurance number, the whole package."
Nabiki whistled. "He arranged this all within half a day?"
"Yeah..." Ranma said, "He has a friend at the registrar's, and he said he has the means to get the other stuff done after, which I don’t doubt. He needs them to keep up appearances. The man's not normal. I tried to get him to come off the stupid actress idea by showing him I was really a guy. All he said was that 'he could still use me.'
Everything's a series of calculations to him. Murasaki Sayaka's blood is still hot on the pavement, and he moves on like it's business as usual. There's no way to run either. Kogino Jin told me flat out that if I don't hold up my end, he'll reveal Murasaki Ranko as a fake and that I had something to do with Murasaki Sayaka's attempted suicide. That cop at the station seemed like he was convinced I was part of the cause. Considering how much I've seen him do, Kogino Jin might be able to make good on his threat."
"He might be bluffing," Nabiki considered. "He might be playing you for a chump. Do you have any proof he isn't just?"
Ranma frowned. He hadn't considered that before. "We visited the lady working as a registrar at her place. The forms I filled out looked official, and she had a professional setup ready to take my picture."
Nabiki shook her head. "Not good enough, she may have been in on the con. Do you remember the address?"
"Err... I could take you there, but I don't have the address. She said she'd have something ready by tomorrow though."
"That's no good. There's not enough time." Nabiki massaged a temple. "You've really stepped into it, Saotome. You could go back to the police, I suppose-- reveal the truth before Jin does so he has no cards against you. Then again, without a new identity to cover your tracks, your curse will be all over the news. Can you trust him to keep his word at least?"
Ranma nodded, "For now. He's going to use me until either Murasaki Sayaka wakes or when I'm good enough to act as the lead in a project he'd been working on. He didn't tell me what kind of project it was, but he did say that it was going to be a period drama. I don't want the others to meet him though. I can tell he's not evil, but he's not going to shy away from using any of you as leverage against me, or as another piece in whatever other plans he may have."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"I have to meet him tomorrow morning to start learning how to become an actress. Can you cover for me?"
"Won't be too difficult." Nabiki said. "It's better that no one else gets involved. If he's as good as you say he is, it'll be a huge headache for me in the long run. Well, first things first. Dad and Uncle Saotome will probably be hung over and I'll take care of it if they wake too early. Akane's a little too nosy though. You'll owe me big for keeping her in the dark. When are you meeting up?"
"8 o'clock at the empty lot near the river."
"Remember to get some proof that he can create an identity for you from scratch. If he backs out of giving you anything tomorrow for me to verify, I'd consider it a pretty clear that he isn’t legit. I don't want to do all this work for nothing." She reached for the door, "Get some sleep-- it's your ass on the line and you should be awake to cover it. You really are much more trouble than you're worth."
Ranma stuck his tongue out at her. "I'll try not to be too much of a bother."
Nabiki chuckled and opened the door. "Seriously though, be careful, Saotome. For all our sakes."
"I'll will." Ranma hesitated. "Nabiki? When is Akane's birthday?"
She held out an open palm. "1000 yen."
Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the laughing Nabiki as she made her getaway. Surprisingly, after talking to Nabiki, things didn't seem so bad. He couldn't see a way yet, but he'd get even with Kogino Jin somehow. In the mean time, cooperating might not hurt so much. Who knows? Murasaki Sayaka might wake tomorrow."
Author's Notes:
My biggest concern here is Nabiki's characterization. On that note, http://www.mangavolume.com/index.php?se ... page_nr=12 has Nabiki showing concern for Ranma in an oblique way.
Thanks to my prereader Fallacy.
Last edited by ToastedPine on Sat Mar 07, 2009 7:24 pm, edited 2 times in total.
-
ToastedPine
Posts: 223
by Nekomata-sensei » Sat Mar 07, 2009 4:41 pm
Good so far, I like some of the seriousness in this fic, but without making things overly dark, at least not making everyone all annoyingly depressed and crazy and skewing everything negative like many similar fics do. I hope you continue the fic.
Also, one thing Ranma hasn't properly thought about yet is if she is recognizable on TV. If she is, and someone who can recognize her sees the show, they're likely to spread the news, and it will probably quickly get all around Nerima, even if not through Nabiki, since she is keeping it secret already. I can just imagine it being one of Nodoka's favorite shows and her seeing 'Tendo Ranko' appear on it and getting all interested and excited and trying to find out what is going on.
Also, one thing Ranma hasn't properly thought about yet is if she is recognizable on TV. If she is, and someone who can recognize her sees the show, they're likely to spread the news, and it will probably quickly get all around Nerima, even if not through Nabiki, since she is keeping it secret already. I can just imagine it being one of Nodoka's favorite shows and her seeing 'Tendo Ranko' appear on it and getting all interested and excited and trying to find out what is going on.
"Health, Learning & Virtue will ensure your happiness; they will give you a quiet conscience, private esteem & public honor." Thomas Jefferson (1743 - 1826)
-
Nekomata-sensei
Posts: 448
by Ellen Kuhfeld » Sat Mar 07, 2009 6:55 pm
Good story, interesting crossover, one I've not seen before.
Grammar schoolmarm here, though. You say "Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the Nabiki laughing as she made her getaway."
If 'Nabiki' were a common noun instead of a proper noun, that'd be right. "Robin Hood loosed an arrow at the Sheriff." "Robin Hood threw water on the Friar." But if it's a given person, then "Robin Hood threw water on Friar Tuck." No the. Please, dear God (not the God) no the.
Grammar schoolmarm here, though. You say "Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the Nabiki laughing as she made her getaway."
If 'Nabiki' were a common noun instead of a proper noun, that'd be right. "Robin Hood loosed an arrow at the Sheriff." "Robin Hood threw water on the Friar." But if it's a given person, then "Robin Hood threw water on Friar Tuck." No the. Please, dear God (not the God) no the.
Visit Big Washuu's Lab of Arcane Knowledge at http://washuu.net
-
Ellen Kuhfeld
Posts: 2279
by Dumbledork » Sun Mar 08, 2009 3:21 am
Ellen Kuhfeld wrote:Good story, interesting crossover, one I've not seen before.
Grammar schoolmarm here, though. You say "Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the Nabiki laughing as she made her getaway."
If 'Nabiki' were a common noun instead of a proper noun, that'd be right. "Robin Hood loosed an arrow at the Sheriff." "Robin Hood threw water on the Friar." But if it's a given person, then "Robin Hood threw water on Friar Tuck." No the. Please, dear God (not the God) no the.
Strangely enough, that's a mistake I see quite often. Now, I'm sure Toasty knows that. But there are some people where I wonder.
I've seen several very well written fics where the author makes this particular mistake quite often.
And that's the bottom line 'cause Dumbledork said so.
Dumbledork 3:16
Dumbledork 3:16
-
Dumbledork
Posts: 3343
by Makoto » Sun Mar 08, 2009 4:30 am
It could be the result of a search-and-replace, without at least making sure all instances of replaced text were correct... or, at least, that's what I wonder whenever I see that happen in a story.
Still alive, but failing miserably at dodging Real Life.
My webpage has returned! http://www.fdnest.com/~makoto/
My Fanfiction.net profile: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1473284/
My webpage has returned! http://www.fdnest.com/~makoto/
My Fanfiction.net profile: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1473284/
-
Makoto
Posts: 862
by Ellen Kuhfeld » Sun Mar 08, 2009 11:07 am
Mike Koos wrote:It could be the result of a search-and-replace, without at least making sure all instances of replaced text were correct... or, at least, that's what I wonder whenever I see that happen in a story.
All I know is that it's getting more and more common in the fanfic I read; and the older the fic, the less likely I am to find it. I think it's some kind of meme rampaging across a literary landscape weakened by the belief that an apostrophe is needed for a plural.
Visit Big Washuu's Lab of Arcane Knowledge at http://washuu.net
-
Ellen Kuhfeld
Posts: 2279
by ToastedPine » Sun Mar 08, 2009 11:55 am
Ranma half-heartedly chucked a pillow at the laughing Nabiki as she made her getaway
I accidentally had the word order in reverse.
Side note: This isn't a cross. All the new characters are original.
-
ToastedPine
Posts: 223
by Ellen Kuhfeld » Sun Mar 08, 2009 12:01 pm
ToastedPine wrote:Side note: This isn't a cross. All the new characters are original.
The detective names sounded a lot like Detective Conan. Sorry if I jumped to conclusions.
Visit Big Washuu's Lab of Arcane Knowledge at http://washuu.net
-
Ellen Kuhfeld
Posts: 2279
by Ahye » Sun Mar 08, 2009 1:56 pm
I like the fact that it's a serious story. It seems most Ranma fics are written in such a way that the characters never really develop past what they were shown as in cannon, which in the case of Ranma 1/2 was something of a comedy. By writing the characters more closely as real people I find it gives a depth to the story and draws a reader in more.
I don't necessarily find Nabiki written that far out of character. I just believe you've written her as a more serious, real life version of the character. What does seem somewhat odd though, is Ranma. I find it somewhat odd that Ranma stuck around long enough to be questioned by the police. And then after that, I don't quite understand why she would go with Jin to talk to him. My thoughts would be that once she was outside the police station she would have perhaps spoken a few words to him, then brushed him off and took off for home. I'll grant that Ranma might have been shaken up by seeing someone who looked very much like her try to commit suicide, but her actions do seem a bit out of character. Not hugely so, but somewhat. Still, it's just that slight difference which apparently sets off the sequence of events in your story, so it fits within the suspension of disbelief any good story is expected to contain.
Overall, good writing. I look forward to seeing more of it.
I don't necessarily find Nabiki written that far out of character. I just believe you've written her as a more serious, real life version of the character. What does seem somewhat odd though, is Ranma. I find it somewhat odd that Ranma stuck around long enough to be questioned by the police. And then after that, I don't quite understand why she would go with Jin to talk to him. My thoughts would be that once she was outside the police station she would have perhaps spoken a few words to him, then brushed him off and took off for home. I'll grant that Ranma might have been shaken up by seeing someone who looked very much like her try to commit suicide, but her actions do seem a bit out of character. Not hugely so, but somewhat. Still, it's just that slight difference which apparently sets off the sequence of events in your story, so it fits within the suspension of disbelief any good story is expected to contain.
Overall, good writing. I look forward to seeing more of it.
-
Ahye
Posts: 106
by Makoto » Sun Mar 08, 2009 2:43 pm
Ellen Kuhfeld wrote:The detective names sounded a lot like Detective Conan. Sorry if I jumped to conclusions.
Well, 'Kudo' and 'Shinichi,' at least. An argument could be made for Kogino (Kogorou?) and Jin (Gin).
Last edited by Makoto on Sun Mar 08, 2009 2:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Still alive, but failing miserably at dodging Real Life.
My webpage has returned! http://www.fdnest.com/~makoto/
My Fanfiction.net profile: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1473284/
My webpage has returned! http://www.fdnest.com/~makoto/
My Fanfiction.net profile: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1473284/
-
Makoto
Posts: 862
by Ellen Kuhfeld » Sun Mar 08, 2009 2:43 pm
Ahye wrote:What does seem somewhat odd though, is Ranma. I find it somewhat odd that Ranma stuck around long enough to be questioned by the police. And then after that, I don't quite understand why she would go with Jin to talk to him.
Ah, now this is where a story starts to live. Just why did Ranma hang around? What would have to happen to make it in character?
Well, it's fanon light that Ranma is moderately good at first aid. The Kami know, he gets enough chances to practice! So: sie was holding the life of Murasaki Sayaka in hir hands. Did she say anything before lapsing into unconsciousness? There could lie a world of difference. We got detectives, it never hurts to have a murmured something before unconsciousness.
Visit Big Washuu's Lab of Arcane Knowledge at http://washuu.net
-
Ellen Kuhfeld
Posts: 2279
by ToastedPine » Sun Mar 08, 2009 3:38 pm
Beside leather-bound volumes of the Adventures of Detective Kudo, over ramps made of playing cards,
Narutaki Shinichi's parents were fans of a made up detective novel series in the story :p.
Ellen Kuhfeld wrote:Ahye wrote:What does seem somewhat odd though, is Ranma. I find it somewhat odd that Ranma stuck around long enough to be questioned by the police. And then after that, I don't quite understand why she would go with Jin to talk to him.
Ah, now this is where a story starts to live. Just why did Ranma hang around? What would have to happen to make it in character?
Doing some revisions. The reasoning is all there for Jin. I'll try to clarify a bit more I suppose. On Ranma's end....
"I couldn't!" Ranma held his head in his hands. "No one would take her from me, and I was didn't want to make her injuries worse. I had to wait for the paramedics and cops to come take her off my hands."
Nabiki tisked. "Gullible as ever I see."
"Hey, what the heck else was I supposed to do?" Ranma asked defensively.
"Moving on," Nabiki said. "What does this have to do with you becoming an actress?"
"I was getting to that," Ranma grumped. "She looks like me. It's like someone took my face, changed the hair and eyes, and then aged it a few years."
-
ToastedPine
Posts: 223
by LiliandraNadiar » Sun Mar 08, 2009 3:59 pm
While the paramedic angle works for keeping Ranma at the train station, what about after they arrive? With Genma's 'history' and given usual fannon assumptions about early training methods of 'keep away from the police', or even just general authority figure problems, I would really peg Ranma as the type to just go along with the police after the paramedics arrive. And not like they could really do much to keep her on scene.
When in danger, or in doubt;
Run in circles, scream and shout
Run in circles, scream and shout
-
LiliandraNadiar
Posts: 328
by ToastedPine » Sun Mar 08, 2009 6:14 pm
LiliandraNadiar wrote:While the paramedic angle works for keeping Ranma at the train station, what about after they arrive? With Genma's 'history' and given usual fannon assumptions about early training methods of 'keep away from the police', or even just general authority figure problems, I would really peg Ranma as the type to just go along with the police after the paramedics arrive. And not like they could really do much to keep her on scene.
"Hey, what the heck else was I supposed to do? Bolt?” Ranma asked defensively. “That would have made me look even more suspicious!"
-
ToastedPine
Posts: 223
16 posts
• Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users