Nabiki put on her best innocent look. “I know I haven’t shown any inclination, Sempai, but my new master is a martial artist, and I want to learn how to handle one so I can show him how I feel about him.”
“Oh, that’s alright then. I guess you won’t be needing any of the ones with special handles and blades then,” the senior girl said in a cheerful voice. She walked over to select a standard practice sword from a large selection. As she moved away, Nabiki got a good look at the inside of the equipment room, most especially the not so official looking swords racked on the opposite wall. She swallowed nervously. And she’d thought Ranma was big.
“Here you go,” the equipment manager said. But, before handing Nabiki a sword she asked once more. “You’re sure you’re only going to use this for sparring, Nabiki-chan. Or would you like one of the special rubber sheaths for the handle. I’ll be really annoyed if you bring it back all wet and sticky like the last girl. Taking Nabiki’s silence for an answer, she handed the sword over. A second later, she chastised Nabiki. “You’ll have to hold it much more firmly than that, Nabiki-chan.”
Nabiki, who was holding the sword gingerly between two fingers gave the girl a sheepish look and grasped the hilt firmly. She firmly told herself that there was nothing unusual in the feel of the handle, and it was all in her mind. Think more pleasant thoughts, she told herself. Like breaking this over Ranma-chan’s head.
Nabiki had always felt contempt for the way her little sister bashed on Ranma, when there were so many better ways to gain vengeance. Now, however, after spending an intense period of trying to think of a way to show how annoyed she was with Ranma, she’d discovered something. When separated from her organization, and completely out of the information loop she had close to zero methods of doing that. Given that fact she found that brute force gained a certain appeal when it came to dealing with wayward boyfriends. Especially one with as hard a head as Ranma.
Nabiki gave a shiver and pulled her tunic tighter around her body. The motion did little to dispel the chill she was feeling, however. The cold was not coming from outside, but rather from inside. Nabiki had no way of knowing if such a feeling was normal, she just knew that the severing of the slave bond left her feeling alone and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t experienced since she came to this world.
Looking back, she realized that she had not been acting very in character. She’d accepted her world, and her situation in it with remarkable calm, even enthusiasm in some cases. A lot of that, she now realized, must have flowed from the security given by her attachment to Ranma.
Now, without one thought for her, he’d gone and severed that link, again! The baka! When she got through with him, he’d never make her worry . . . Nabiki paused in her deliberate striding down the hall. Who was she fooling, she chastised herself. She wasn’t mad because Ranma had made her feel cold and alone, she was mad because she was worried to death about him, or rather her. Who knows what might happen to Ranma-chan in this world. With her lack of any sort of real knowledge about how things worked, there was nothing she could do to keep him safe. Nothing, that is, except pray he was alright, and if he was, to make sure he was never stupid enough to do it again. She hefted her new weapon in both hands and went looking for her wayward and foolish master.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Conan hated going into the girl’s school. It wasn’t that it was difficult. It was in fact easy. There was no effort put forth to keep boys his age away from the nubile girls. While said girls were not above flirting with young boys, as an investment in the future, that would be as far as it would go. No. What Conan hated about going into the girl’s school was going through the security checkpoint.
“OH MY GOD! If you just ain’t the most precious thing I’ve ever seen!” The six foot plus curvaceous security guard gushed. She rumbled his carefully combed hair and gave his cheek a pinch as she swept him up into her arms and hugged him to her substantial bosom.
“Ummpphhh, can’t breath,” Conan wheezed, his voice muffled by the guard’s bounteous attributes.
“Don’t go hogging the little sweety, you over blown cow,” the other security guard, equally as large and endowed protested. She yanked Conan free and pressed him to her own chest. “What a little darling,” she gushed.
“Hey, you give him back!” The other guard protested, and tried to pull Conan free. Her fellow refused to relinquish her hold and Conan found himself the both the rope and prize in a vigorous tug-of-war.
“Help,” he said in a wispy voice.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Kodachi ran with all her might, and hit the stone Ranma had used to launch herself into the air. She achieved nothing like the height Ranma had accomplished. But did gain enough that when she lashed upward with her whip, the end slipped over the wall with ease. Unfortunately for her, that did her little good. Ranma had used the friction from her damp shirt to give her the few extra inches she needed to reach the top. Kodachi’s whip clung for a second, enough so that she could pull herself a foot higher than she would have reached on her own, and then she fell.
Directly under Kodachi, and a foot below the ground, an angry lackey was chewing out two nine year old female students. “You promised me the tunnel would be ready by the time Mistress Nabiki returned to school, Ryonami shouted at her hapless helpers. You diggers claimed to be the best tunnel builders in the school. We gave you material, logistics, planes, and all you had to do was dig. And you are failing.”
It’s this rock, Mistress,” one of the girl’s exclaimed, taking off her yellow hard-hat and whipping her forehead, smearing dirt from her sleeve. She patted the surface that filled the entire end of the tunnel. “We’re going to have to go around it.”
Her fellow digger spoke up. “If you hadn’t insisted on the tunnel reaching forty feet past the wall, we could be up on the surface now.” Her eyes turned a little starry. “And we could find our darling Conan-kun.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. We are lucky that Mistress Nabiki has not asked after the tunnel project. I do not intend for it to be incomplete when she does remember. You will work all night if you have to.” Ryonami planted herself between the smaller girls and the exit and glowered at them, her arms crossed over her modest chest.
That was when the roof caved in, and Ryonami suddenly found herself laying on the ground with a very surprised and dirt covered boy laying on top of her. So flustered was Ryonami that she didn’t notice that the boy in question was pressing against her in ways that were not fully natural to a real boy.
Ranma was not finding her path to righteous justice easy. As it had turned out, getting into the school grounds had been fairly simple. How to find Akane once she got inside, that was another matter. One that she hadn’t really considered.
The grounds within thirty feet of the barrier wall were well tended and barren of any sort of cover, but further in their were large areas of near wild bush. Ranma had slipped into one of these while she contemplated what to do next.
Simply wondering the halls would be foolish. She might run into Hinako. She needed a plan. She brushed aside some branches and examined the school. It was well provided with decorative stone work and broad ledges. It would be fairly easy to creep up and down and peek into windows. Or, she could just wait for Akane to leave. She mused. Waiting might be the best. The school day was almost over. And her application of justice would be much more effective if performed in front of the whole student body.
Ranma settled back to wait. No sooner had she done so than she became aware of faint noises coming from somewhere back in the bushes. Curious and having nothing better to do, she decided to investigate. She took to the trees and moved from branch to branch till she was overlooking a secluded clearing. Below her was a tall girl dressed in leather. Not custom made form fitting designer leather. But raw natural, nearly fresh off the animal leather. Something that you might expect to see on a mountain man. But this was no man. She was wearing a vest that left her muscular and tanned arms bare and fell far short of the waistband of her pants, Looking down from her perch Ranma also was quick to notice that the girl’s breasts were barely contained by the material of her vest. Not really the fault of the vest. It would take a lot of fabric to keep those puppies contained.
It was not the girl’s clothes that attracted Ranma-chan’s attention, however, nice as the view was. It was the feeling that she knew the girl from somewhere. That, and what she was doing. The girl had a smaller girl in a frothy girly dress pressed up against a large oak tree. The girl’s dress was hiked up high and the wild girl had one of her hands up under it.
“Oh no. You mustn’t!” the smaller girl panted, her voice husky with arousal. “Ahhhhh, no, don’t touch me there,” she exclaimed, turning a rosy pink.
Ranma was torn. Move away. Stay and watch, or rescue? Moving away didn’t seem right, somehow. The girl might really be in trouble. Stay and watch? Well, that seemed the right thing to do, only it seemed such a Happosai type thing to do. Rescue? She wasn’t sure that the girl needed rescuing, or would appreciate it.
As Ranma contemplated, the wild girl spoke, and Ranma’s eyes went wide as she recognized the voice.
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(Posted Sun, 24 Oct 2004 23:47)
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