Dawn broke early over the jagged skyline of the Nerima Public Park, the early morning rays piercing the trees and softly illuminating the growing gathering of people therein.
Thirty-two years ago, it would have been unusual to see even a handful of people in the park on a weekend morning, humans having a tendency to sleep in on their days of leisure, but since the coming of the Tribals, the regular cycle of daily activity had been thrown out the window.
The tendency of the Tribals to keep unusual hours had necessitated a rise in the amount of local nightlife, and in addition to the numerous boutiques, theaters, gaming parlors, theme restaurants, and night clubs, the natural environment of the park had proven a strong draw to many of those of the feline persuasion. As a result, the park, with its newly fishless lake and birdless trees, had become a wellspring of activity, with people passing through at all hours of the day for little to no reason at all.
However, the people currently gathered on the south end of the lake on this particular morning were not there to merely sightsee. No, it was the weekend, and as such, they were gathering in increasingly greater numbers to both observe or participate in the spectacle currently unfolding at the south end of the lake.
"Miyahhhhhh!"
*SPLASH*
Said spectacle being catgirl Tribal Chinese Amazon otaku competing in a free-for-all in an attempt to bodily throw each other into the lake.
"Wow, nice one Akane!" Sayuri whistled from the sidelines as the aforementioned girl deftly ducked a swipe to her head and lashed out, gripping her opponent's overextended arm and using her momentum to whirl the girl around, sending her sailing in a neat little parabolic arc over the water.
"Nyep. Thanks Sayuri!" Akane called, grinning in satisfaction as her opponent descended bodily into the water with a disparaged wail and an ungainly splash.
If she were to be perfectly honest with herself, Akane would have to admit to loving these weekend morning training sessions. They had been a weekly event at the park every morning since she could remember, with various Chinese Amazon otaku clubs from all over Nerima coming together to test their skills and compete against one another. Of course, some might find it odd that so many young girls might devote their time and risk their health in the pursuit of an ideal that was originally lifted out of a travel guide, but in the end they enjoyed it, and in the true spirit of otaku everywhere, that was all that really mattered.
Of course, many of the so-called Chinese Amazon otaku joined the clubs for reasons other than the martial aspect, and for those few unlucky souls, these weekly free-for-alls were an oft painful and unavoidable necessity. Fortunately, such contestants were often eliminated quickly and relatively easily, paving the way for competition between those club members who took these morning brawls a bit more seriously. For Akane in particular, they really did represent a prime opportunity for training. Oh sure, she got plenty of practice in the martial arts learning the naginata alongside her mother and her sisters, but hand-to-hand combat against new and unfamiliar opponents always held a certain level of appeal that the other lacked. Besides, of the four Tendo women, she was the only practitioner of her father's art, and since both her parents preferred to sleep late on the weekends, well... ...it beat training in the dojo against a block of wood.
Ducking under an incoming strike from a somewhat more serious opponent, Akane backflipped away and landed before regarding her enemy carefully, ears going flat on her head as a cacophony of whistles and catcalls erupted from the sidelines. That was the only problem with these sessions.
The perverts.
It was inevitable, really, Akane mused with growing distaste. Take a large number of curvy young catgirls, dress them in the tight cheongsams and tight-slitted skirts of a Chinese Amazon otaku, and then set them to, well, catfighting, and the presence of perverts became an unavoidable occupational hazard. Of course, by this point, most of the more ardent among them had long since learned to keep their hands to themselves, particularly since the various clubs had unanimously adopted a bylaw preventing the issuing of romantic challenges during the competition, but that certainly didn't stop them from cheering, leering, or being a general all-around nuisance every time a skirt flipped up or a dress got torn.
Growling slightly and muttering under her breath, Akane tried an experimental kick, testing her opponent's defenses and frowning slightly as the block came just a little too slow. The girl was good, but wasn't quite on the same level as herself, Akane mused. Maybe she ought to go easy on her?
"Hey Akane, nice panties!" Hiroshi's voice echoed from somewhere in the crowd.
Maybe not.
Voice ramping up to an audible growl, Akane quickly lunged towards her startled opponent, driving past her defenses and quickly subduing her before flinging her airborne with a mighty heave.
"Nyaaaaaah!"
"OOOF!"
*CRUNCH* *CRASH* *CRUMPLE*
Akane smiled in satisfaction as the crowd parted to reveal the twisted tangle of limbs that was Daisuke. Her former opponent had apparently managed to extract herself from the pervert in question and was now walking sullenly to the sidelines, while Daisuke, for his part, was thoroughly unconscious, the two Size-7 shoe imprints that now decorated both sides of his face offering further proof that cats always land on their feet.
Grinning broadly, and enjoying the scattered applause, Akane slowly turned around in search of additional opponents to add to the pile.
*BRRRRRRRRIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG*
"Nya!"
*CRASH*
Yawning broadly and mumbling something unintelligible, Nabiki sat up in bed, spilling the various manga that lay scattered across it to the floor. Stretching languidly, Nabiki blinked blearily before cautiously rubbing her eyes in an attempt to clear them.
One had to be careful when one had claws, after all.
Yawning once more and stretching her legs out in front of her, incidentally disrupting yet more manga, Nabiki directed her gaze towards her alarm clock in an attempt to ascertain the time, blinking slightly as she noticed that the rabbit ears that her clock had formerly sported had been separated from the clock and were now lying on the far side of the room.
Casting a baleful look at the claws on her right hand, Nabiki wearily hauled herself out of bed and fished behind her nightstand, unplugging her alarm clock from the wall before tossing it in her trashcan to join the growing pile of similarly wrecked clocks.
Grumbling slightly, she crossed the room to one of her dressers, tripping over stray piles of manga in the process, and opened up the bottom drawer, fishing out yet another Sailor Moon alarm clock to take the place of its predecessor. Crossing the room and installing the clock with practiced ease, Nabiki set the time against her Dragon Ball watch before standing up with an irritated sigh and shifting the nightstand further away from the bed.
Needless to say, Nabiki hated mornings.
Unlike, her sisters, Nabiki was not a morning person. Oh sure, she'd get up early if she had to, or at the very least, had proper incentive to do so, but for the most part, she tended towards the nocturnal, preferring to stay up late and sleep in the following morning. As it was, she was being forced to get up early today on the account of some strange guests that her parents had announced were coming the previous day. She could already hear her mother and her sister bustling around downstairs, and more than likely her father was down there as well, probably sitting out on the porch somewhere. Akane would be at the park of course. It was Sunday after all.
Groaning in protest at the injustice of being forced to wake up early on the weekend, Nabiki reluctantly dragged herself over to her closet and began rifling through her clothes. Guests, her parents had said. Dress nice, her mother had said. Nice.
Nice was a four-letter word when you had a wardrobe as big as Nabiki's.
It was the product of nearly eight years of laborious shopping, but it was all part in parcel for an otaku of Nabiki's caliber. Of course, technically she was a manga-phile, as the numerous stacks of manga that dotted the room and the numerous boxes stacked in the closet downstairs would attest, but a large part of that particular job description had been spent attending various conventions and expos, which meant cosplay, which meant clothing. Now, one walk-in closet, three dressers, and an exorbitant amount of money later (the majority of which was collected under questionable means), and Nabiki had more outfits then the collective female population of Furinken High.
All of which made for a staggering number of options, particularly when the only guideline that you had to go with was 'nice'.
Hmm... color-coded seifuku? Too much.
Tiger-striped bikini? Too little.
Miko robes? Too misleading.
Plugsuit? Too... too… just too.
Groaning in frustration, Nabiki wrestled a comparatively understated blue kimono, one of the few ordinary pieces of clothing she owned, out from between her "Peorth" and "Naga" outfits, not that this was particularly difficult, given the amount of fabric involved. The kimono was always a safe choice. It was plain enough not to give a bad impression, and traditional enough to satisfy her mother's taste.
Yet, Nabiki thought, as she examined herself in a wall mirror, it still needed something, a personal accent of sorts. Smirking slightly, Nabiki crossed the room to a previously untouched dresser and opened the middle drawer.
She still had plenty of obis to choose from, after all.
Kasumi was excited.
Of course, that would be clear to anyone who saw her at the moment, as she was veritably floating as she moved about the lower floor of the Tendo home, dusting the furniture, walls, people, and various knickknacks that occupied the residence. She was humming audibly under her breath, a muted counterpoint the gentle melody that was currently wafting out of the kitchen, signifying that her mother was busy preparing breakfast.
Flitting her feather duster around the dining room table, Kasumi giggled slightly and deftly repositioned the little maid's cap on her brow when it threatened to fall off her head, settling it slightly in front of her furry triangular ears. Even the presence of a particularly stubborn spot on the table did nothing to dampen her mood.
They had guests!
Oh, it had been so long since they had had guests, Kasumi thought happily, so long since she had been able to show off her skills as a maid! Of course, she really didn't know who was actually coming, and in all likelihood they might not be the kind of people who would be impressed by that sort of thing, but it never hurt to be prepared.
Her parents had fought about that, Kasumi knew, and while her father had apparently somehow won the argument, Kasumi could tell that her mother wasn't very happy with the situation. That in itself was almost enough to put a damper on Kasumi's enthusiasm.
Almost.
On the other hand, if her parents were keeping an identity of their guests a secret, then they must have a very good reason. Besides, withholding their identity almost made the arrival of their guests a sort of surprise, and if there was one thing Kasumi loved it was surprises.
And cleaning.
But also surprises.
Turning around and readjusting her kimono when it hampered her movement, she considered the garment thoughtfully. She didn't normally wear clothing like this, but had done so at her mother's insistence, normally preferring either a loose housedress, or better yet, one of the various maid's uniforms she kept neatly folded in her dresser upstairs. As a maid otaku, she had them in all styles, colors, and sizes, including one rather naughty one that she was fairly sure the rest of her family knew nothing about. Well, everyone except Nabiki anyway. She had helped her to pick it out.
Kasumi blushed demurely as she thought about the garment. It was certainly nothing she planned on wearing anytime soon, being far too impractical for actual housework, having more in common with lingerie than actual clothing, but maybe when she met that special someone, then maybe...
Oh my!
Blushing furiously, Kasumi continued about her housework, her ribboned tail lashing agitatedly behind her.
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(Posted Wed, 13 Apr 2005 13:33)
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