Reaching up a dainty hand, she knocked three times on the door, the loud noise from which stating that there was more to her than just skin and bone.
An answer came from somewhere on the property, probably along the lines of ‘I’ll be there in a minute’ or something of the same sort. This was followed by the sound of a sliding door opening, then the clacking of wooden sandals on a stone walkway.
The front gate opened smoothly to reveal a young woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties dressed up in red Hakama and a white matching top. It was obvious from the bokken in the woman’s right hand, and the sweat-towel draped over her left shoulder, that she had been in the process of practicing her sword forms.
“Oh my,” she exclaimed, seeing the girl standing before her. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Indeed there is,” the girl replied in heavily accented Japanese. “I believe that you are Nodoka Saotome, mother of one Ranma Saotome?”
“Well…” the woman, Nodoka, paused with a suspicious gaze. “Does this have anything to do with dept?”
The girl blinked owlishly.
“Not in such a manner, no… Is there somewhere we can sit down and talk?” the girl asked. “In private, preferably?”
“Well, I was about to have some Tea,” Nodoka offered.
“Oh, well…” the girl seemed to be somewhat reluctant when Nodoka mentioned tea.
That’s odd, Nodoka wondered to herself. I wonder what she has against something to universal and ordinary as tea? Perhaps I should offer something safer…
“Well, I also have a pitcher of lemonade, if you need something to cool off with,” Nodoka offered, taking into consideration that it was, after all, mid July.
“Oh, that would be much more pleasant, thank you,” the girl said with a slight curtsy.
“Very well then, come in,” Nodoka said with a hospitable smile, stepping to the side that the girl could walk onto the Saotome property.
The grounds themselves were very well kept, the grasses a deep emerald carpet, perfectly trim and very thick. Large, flat-topped rocks of an even gray color made pathways here and there, so that one could walk on them alone and leave the grass as it was.
A small rock garden sat off to the right, a single red leaf from a nearby Japanese maple resting on the sand, circled by the raised ridges of artistically-combed sand. A group of large rocks aesthetically placed in the middle sheltered the roots of a small tree, all about itself with deep green needles.
Looking to the left, one could see the very corner of what must be a very nice pond, ringed all about by river-smoothed boulders and rocks, a stone lantern seeming to stand guard over it.
And the house itself, though not the largest one might see, was very nice indeed. A traditional Japanese home, walled about with thick rice-paper shoji, framed with a stout timbers stained a dark cherry wood red.
It looked to be two stories tall, with perhaps a small attic at the top. The second floor was just slightly smaller than the first, with a sloping roof coming down from below the windows to overhang the perimeter’s porch.
All in all, it seemed to be a very nice place to live.
“If you would,” Nodoka said, bowing slightly as if to give the hint to the girl that she was to move from the front gate so that she could close it without trapping the girl in it’s frame.
“Oh, yes,” the girl said, quickly stepping out of the way.
Smiling fondly, Nodoka then lead the way to the tea room, motioning for the girl to sit while she herself went to get the refreshments.
The girl sat down on her knees in the Japanese fashion, showing the amazing adaptability and flexibility that one would expect from seeing her frame. She did have to pause a moment, though, to brush the bottom of her blue dress beneath herself, lest it be wrinkled.
Soon enough, Nodoka came back in carrying a tray that held two tall glasses, and a very tempting pitcher of cold lemonade, condensation already beading on the outside of the glass as the ice cubes in it tinkled against the inside.
Once they were both sitting, and nursing their cold glasses of fresh lemonade, Nodoka spoke.
“I find myself at a disadvantage,” she confessed. “You know my name, and I do not know yours.”
“Ah,” the girl exclaimed, slightly embarrassed at her own lack of etiquette. “My name is Alice… Alice Liddell. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
“Welcome, Alice,” Nodoka made a slight bow. “So tell me, what business brings you here?”
“Well… just a second…”
And with that, Alice dug around in the front pocket of her dress, soon producing a rolled piece of parchment that was sealed with red wax and ribbon, though both had obviously been broken before. With the greatest amount of dignity that the girl had, she passed the parchment over to the slightly confused Saotome Matriarch.
Nodoka opened the parchment, blinking her eyes for a few moments as her mind switched gears—and languages—to understand what was written on it.
Dear Alice, it began, for that was to whom it had been written.
It had come to my attention that you have not yet found yourself a husband of suitable material to show to us at Court. As such, we have taken liberty to find one for you, in hopes that the young man will be quite to your liking.
The boy we, or rather my husband has found, is named Ranma Saotome. Though he says that he did not himself see the lad, he did see a picture of him, and has it on good authority from the boy’s father that the lad is quite the fighter, but also quite honorable as well.
I have enclosed a copy of this picture with this letter, in hopes that you might find this boy, and henceforth not wander alone in the world.
Best Wishes,
The Queen
Nodoka got to the bottom of the letter, a confused look on her face, then looked to the picture that had been rolled up with it. There, printed on the glossy photo-paper, was a young lad of perhaps ten or twelve years of age, his eyes squinted closed and his mouth wide in a seemingly cheerful grin.
It was her son, Ranma.
Nodoka took a deep, shuddering breath, and held the picture close to her chest. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes as a great sense of relief and joy swept through her in the knowledge that her son had at least not died in some horrible accident when he was a mere child. As it was, this was the first picture she had seen of him since he was but a young boy of six.
“Miss Saotome,” Alice queried. “Is everything okay?”
“Y… sniff… Yes, dear… Everything’s fine,” Nodoka replied. “And please… call me ‘Mother’…”
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(Posted Sun, 14 Nov 2004 03:47)
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