“My precious works!” cried Totosai as yet another sword he crafted for the human duo cracked and broke after Ranma tried it. The demon forger wept openly as his best works failed to even begin to handle the power the human was capable of.
And if they couldn’t handle a small start-up test with Ranma, they would be useless for Nabiki. While Ranma was weaker in it, Nabiki had a stronger ability to purify than he did; something that irked the pigtailed warrior.
“Sorry,” mumbled Ranma, as he once again began to pick up what remained of the forged weapon.
“Damn it, how can I make you a sword if you keep breaking everything I try?” yelled out Totosai.
Ranma shrugged. “Can’t you make anything that won’t break when I infuse it with a little bit of ki or reiki?” he asked.
Totosai sighed, as he trudged back to his cave. It wasn’t so much the power as it was the metals he was using, he saw this.
The hilts were easy, as he had planned to use the same source as he did for the Tenseiga and Tetsusaiga. Luckily, old Boku'seno had agreed to give the wood for that.
But it was the metals that seemed to lack either the power or the ability to withstand what Ranma and Nabiki used for power.
And as a pyromancer, that just would not do for the old swordmaker.
But how to correct that? “Maybe a dragon’s fang...”
“What was that?” asked Ranma, as he dumped the shards of metal into a bin for reuse later on.
“We may need to get a dragon’s fang.”
Ranma gulped, not wanting to see what dragons looked like in the past. The rumors at the school had been centered on: big, nasty, sharp teeth, and liking human meat. “Why?”
“Your power is just too incompatible with the metals I use,” said Totosai. “The issues with demon and human energies are very tricky. But a dragon’s fang has none of these issues. Their bodies exist between the two states, which would remove the problems we’ve been having.”
Ranma nodded, remembering the old coot had talked about using ‘fangs’ to make swords. “And just how do we get a dragon’s fang, let alone find one?” asked Ranma. The only dragon he had ever seen was Herb. For all he knew, there could very well be a Drowned Dragon spring at Jusenkyo.
It’d probably make him smaller than P-chan if he was stupid enough to go there.
Of course, if he went there, then he’d be near the Amazons and could use the Nanban mirror, and thus they wouldn’t need the swords.
“I know where there are some,” mused Totosai. “But you’ll have to get them.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re scared,” snorted Ranma.
“Damn straight,” agreed the old man. “I’d rather live a few more years, thank you.”
Ranma sighed, before grabbing Totosai by his collar. “You’re at least coming with us till we get there. Then you can hide while we get the fangs.”
“What fangs?” asked the man. “Who are you?”
A vein began to grow on Ranma’s forehead. “I told you that you’d be eating nothing of Nabiki’s cooking if you pulled the senile act again.”
“I’ll be good,” whimpered the man.
Nabiki looked out the small window of the cabin they had built as she checked the soup once again. It hadn’t been a bad few weeks. The volcano was beautiful ... as long as it didn’t erupt or spew poisonous gas down the slope.
There was plenty to eat around them, even given Ranma’s appetite. It even had some great hot springs to bath in.
If this was her own time, she would have bought the land and set up resorts as far as the eye could see.
Of course, it was most likely old habits talking that still demanded caffeine, suckers, ice cream, and every convenience she missed of her own time.
But it wasn’t getting worse in the past at least. She still counted it as a victory that she was still not only sane, but had not thrown herself at Ranma after all this time.
Okay, so she occasionally woke up snuggling to Ranma-chan at the school.
But it had only occurred twice since they had set up camp at Totosai’s.
And she hadn’t had one little dream about having a family with him ... in a month.
Sighing, she began to set the table for the meal, hoping at least they would bathe before entering. After their usual attempts, that three-eyed bull usually smelled better than them.
It wasn’t that she hated Ranma, far from it. She just didn’t want to be a love-struck fiancée, complete with tunnel vision, obscene acts of violence, and complete disregard for all things sane at most times.
But she also knew he was the best guy she could hope for at the moment. Even lords tended to marry off daughters, and sometimes to worse people than even the Chardins. She knew Ranma would never tolerate his own children being delegated to second class citizens based on gender. Depending on times and the random whims of those with power, you couldn’t make that promise about many others.
Okay, so he wasn’t rich; they could be rich if they charged more for their services.
So they didn’t own large tracts of land; they could build a new house and claim it. It wasn’t like Ranma had no experience in building maintenance/repair/replacement. Akane and his father had seen to that, as well as several rivals.
What was stopping her? Was she afraid it wouldn’t matter, that it was another delusion, another girl with no chance?
Maybe she was just scared that if she found this new life enjoyable, it would be like giving up returning home, or that if they did go home, it would all mean nothing. After all, he was in love with Akane when they had left.
Was he still? Could he love her?
“Hey, Biki! Soup ready?”
Was the soup burned? “The soup!”
Would he think her cooking had degraded to Akane’s level if she messed up a simple recipe as soup?
Ranma watched as Nabiki ran around the fire-pit, freaking out about the soup. “I wonder what’s the matter with her; it smells perfect?”
Totosai shrugged. “Women, go figure.”
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(Posted Thu, 14 Sep 2006 13:28)
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