[Episode 114309] [Episode 114309]It was cold and bad things were out in the dark; they stared at him with cat-silted eyes and wanted to hurt him but he was safe. Daddy was holding him. Daddy was warm and he was a martial artist, he’d make all the bad things run away.
The little boy was going to be the best martial artist ever… When he got big. Time, the Nekoken and a hundred lesser displays of stupidity would wear away at his faith and trust in his father but that was all in the future. Right now he was just a little boy and his father was both infallible and invincible in his eyes; he was completely safe.
“Pig-tailed Girl…” His pop never called him that! Ranma-chan frowned slightly but her eyes didn’t open.
There was someone holding her with gentle concern. Whoever it was tried not to jostle her as he walked. He was a lot bigger than she was but he wasn’t her daddy and she wasn’t a little boy any more. She didn’t think she wanted to wake up.
“Sasuke, prepare a room for my guest. She will be staying as long as she likes.”
“Yes, Master Kuno.”
Kuno!?! Ranma-chan felt her heartbeat speed up. Tarou hadn’t put Kuno under his protection. She could still fight him. It was just Kuno, he couldn’t hurt her. But what if he hit her with hot water? The submissive slave girl, that had replaced his natural form, wouldn’t even try to fight. She’d let Kuno do whatever he wanted with her. She’d even help him, willingly cooperate with him!
Kuno looked down at the girl in his arm with alarm as she began to hyperventilate.
“No.” Ranma moaned.
Carefully Kuno set his broken angel on a couch and backed away. “No one will hurt you. No one will make you do anything you don’t want to. Not so long as I, Tatewaki Kuno, draw breathe.” He promised.
Ranma curled up in the corner of the couch and watched Kuno with fearful, tear-reddened eyes.
“Sasuke! Bring tea!” Kuno yelled.
“Of course Master Kuno.” The diminutive ninja replied as he popped out of the floor a few minutes later with a kettle and tea set.
Kuno fussed over the tea while Ranma silently watched. Deliberately maintaining his distance Kuno offered a cup of the calming draught to his guest. Ranma cringed away from the steaming liquid. Kuno looked distressed, after a moment he withdrew his offering.
“Would you like me to leave?” Kuno asked.
Ranma stared at the Upperclassman in shock. ‘What sort of person sets things up so he’s got to defeat a girl in a fight before he can claim the right to date her then turns around and holds back when he’s fighting her?’ Ranma wondered tangentially.
“All this time, you’ve been waiting for Akane to let you win.” Ranma said as the answer came to him.
“Yes.”
Kuno was a moron and a pest and most of his screws were loose, Ranma decided. But he wasn’t a rapist. Ranma started laughing, when he heard a hysterical edge in his voice he bit his lips. Kuno waited.
“Could I have some ice water, please? Or a toothbrush, maybe?” Ranma tugged uncomfortably on the too short skirt she’d been dressed in and glanced away, ashamed. She was trying not to think about what had caused the taste she wanted out of her mouth.
“Would you like to take a bath?” Kuno offered.
The thought of warm water, of loosing himself to the slave-girl persona made Ranma’s stomach turn in a way his original curse never had. But cold water, washing all this crap off him… Cold enough to make his nerves go numb so he couldn’t feel where they’d touched him anymore…
“Please.”
“I’ll show you the way.” Kuno walked to the door. After several minutes Ranma stood up and followed him at a cautious distance. “You’ll find towels and robes in the cupboard to your left.” Kuno said as he gestured to a door then backed away.
“Thanks.” Ranma went inside then firmly closed the door. He located the promised robes and traded the despised outfit for one. After turning the water on as cold as it could go Ranma-chan turned the showerhead on her much abused body.
At first the water made her shiver but it still felt soothing. She grabbed a bar of soap and began to wash the accumulated grime off her skin.
The feeling of relief died as Ranma-chan noticed the bruises covering her body: Hand prints on her waist where Tarou had held while he’d… On her thighs from being spread... Her breasts were a mass of overlapping fingerprints. Her arms, her stomach…. Ranma scrubbed desperately at the marks in a futile attempt to erase them. It only left her skin raw. A black energy started to seep out of her. Rather than the blaze of a normal battle aura it seemed more like an oil slick as it clung to her skin.
Ranma-chan stood, she stared down at herself then slowly turned to look into the bathroom mirror. The energy that oozed from her pores had a putrid sheen to it. The robe she wore hung open, framing her battered body. Ranma started at the image in the mirror, he let it burn itself into his psyche.
A young girl, slender and fragile, started back at him. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat. Bedraggled strands of sopping red hair hung in her face, like streams of blood. Her eyes were dilated with shock, bottomless pits of blackness rimmed with a thin ring of blue. The collar around her neck responded to Ranma’s emotional state; it became a thick band of leather, a leash dangled between her breasts. Her body, those bruises…
“You look like a whore.” Ranma hissed at the image. “You lost! You let them do that to you! Whore! Slut! Worthless slut! You lost!” Ranma’s first blow shattered the image. Shards of glass sprayed the room and a number became embedded in her flesh. He didn’t notice the mirror’s destruction as he continued punching the wall and screaming.
(Posted Thu, 19 Aug 2004 03:53)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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