Thanks to Kyusaku’s magical skills and Akiko’s managerial skills, the Natsume household was quite wealthy. The traditional Japanese design for a mansion of such well-to-do people included a moderately high wall surrounding the compound, for privacy as well as security. This compound had a wrought-iron fence. The garden area had included some privacy hedges, which were now an assortment of scorched leafy twigs mixed in with the other wreckage, but for the most part the compound was laid out for display to the public rather than privacy from the masses.
The Natsume’s were many things, but traditional was not one of them. It was not so much that they flouted tradition, as that the lord of the manor had a mind that spent most of its time on other planes of existence, either figuratively or literally. He had strange bends in his psyche that allowed him to navigate and manipulate multiple space-like and time-like dimensions at once. As is often the case, there was a price to be paid for this ability. For Kyusaku, the price was that his mental landscape seemed incapable of supporting many of the concepts associated with tradition, decorum, and other aspects of harmonious human society. This was magnified by his tendency to call forth beings that weren’t human and had never been exposed to those concepts in the first place.
Kyusaku had been scolded, fined, instructed, hit over the head with blunt objects, lectured, disciplined, and even put through a special 12-step program for instilling social grace and awareness in eccentric geniuses. (An application of behavior modification that had saved the world from much grief in the past.) Nothing took. He would nod, smile, admit to his mistakes and faults, be quite agreeable about the whole thing, and parrot all the rules and requirements back to his instructors verbatim, but it would all dribble out his ears the instant a new problem or project seized his interest. Once that happened, only his wife and a few other people had the ability to penetrate the shell of absolute concentration he developed when in pursuit of a goal. For everyone else the only options were to go along with him and enjoy the inevitable erotic chaos, or try to achieve minimum safe distance.
Thus, the good folk of Okayama and long ago given up on the concepts of harmony and tranquility anywhere in the vicinity of Kyusaku the Conjurer. This was the reason behind the layout of the Natsume compound. If the rest of the world had to put up with the noise then they wanted a good view of the show.
Today’s show involved Ryoko: Legendary Oni of the Masaki Shrine Vs Okayama’s favorite Bouncing Bakeneko: Nuku Nuku. Kyusaku, as a master summoner, had presented his son with a birthday present far beyond the average Bakeneko, and the local favorite had dominated the first round of their match with physical strength and agility that exceeded those of the infamous Oni. The sex-kitten’s drive and appetites were also far beyond the norm and Ryoko had found it incredibly difficult to concentrate on her own tactics while her opponent had been gripping her breasts with clawed fingers of iron and attempting to wedge a furry big toe into the space pirate’s rectum. However, round two could have been titled “Ryoko’s Revenge”. The mistress of sexual-assault-wrestling had strength and moves, but she was down on the ground looking up at Ryoko as she did not have the ability to fly. Nuku Nuku also lacked the ability to become intangible, teleport, or throw energy blasts. She had proven fairly proficient with thrown rocks, but Ryoko was shaking off the 700+ years of rust on her skills, and those projectiles were either dodged or blasted to dust before they reached their target. Ryoko could have hovered out of reach and blasted away until she finally fried the poor kitty, but she was indulging in a pleasure previously unknown to her. She was playing to the crowd.
Ryoko swooped and swerved and looped, giving the folks on the ground a good look at her curves and charms. She strafed the grounds to make the kitty leap and dance. She strafed the house with some lower-power bolts to get Tenchi to get a move on if he was in there. She strafed Ichi across the street when he would not shut up with the damn megaphone. When the cheering for the flying and strafing started to lose energy, she switched to her sword and dove in for some close quarters combat. This was riskier for Ryoko, but she had to admit it was more thrilling for herself as well as the audience.
So the dance continued. The Oni floated just above the ground and pursued the pink feline all over the compound. Nuku Nuku danced around the ruby blade and managed to get in the occasional hit and a few pinches in sensitive areas that made the Oni retreat momentarily. She was not, however, able to achieve the holds that were central to her fighting style. Any time Nuku Nuku managed to grab hold of her opponent, Ryoko would disappear or become an insubstantial ghost. Despite these difficulties, Nuku Nuku maintained her usual chipper demeanor and was actually laughing. Ryoko was startled to realize she was also laughing. Startled enough to let the cat slip inside her guard and try to slip a furry finger inside something else.
When the dust and smoke from the especially violent set of explosions prompted by this assault cleared, Ryoko saw a pair of mecha emerging from an outbuilding. One red, one blue, both very tall and patterned on the female form. Ryoko took to the air again, willing to wait and see what these new gladiators had to offer. It was somewhat at odds with her usual tactical doctrine of overwhelming offense, but it was too soon for the show to end.
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(Posted Tue, 09 Nov 2004 20:55)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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