The walk home from school was boring. The brief fight he’d had that day had been a chance at a glimpse of something grand. Now that he thought about it in depth, he had been annoyed by the fact that his opponent of that day had withdrawn so quickly. There had been no blood; no broken bones; no sweat; and no tears. In short, there had been very little enjoyment. Something had to be done about that, but he wasn’t sure what. He had never heard of Toguro, and didn’t know very much about him beyond the fact that he was extremely tall (well above two meters), rather muscular, and seemed like he might be very strong. And that he had some skill in using that power; that power which was only hinted.
Ranma didn’t require many things from an opponent. In fact, he required almost nothing, because he had been willing to participate in truly bizarre matches; such as Martial Arts Tea Ceremony, of all things. But he hadn’t had a credible opponent in a while. The best match in Nerima for his skills was Ryouga Hibiki, who was strong and could take a lot of punishment, and could fire pretty big depression ki blasts when he was depressed. But Ranma was almost as strong, had even more endurance (or at least more will), could fire similarly large ki blasts with a different emotion or none at all, and had never really taken Ryouga entirely seriously. The main reason for that was that the Lost Boy, as he was frequently lost, simply did not have the speed to compete if Ranma wanted to blitz him. Against Ryouga, Ranma had employed some very tricky strategies, but had never needed to be vicious or violent. If he had done that in their fights, Ryouga would be dead and Ranma would either be in prison or would have needed a different opponent.
Perhaps that wasn’t right; his father Genma should be considered a decent challenge too, if only because the middle-aged man was sneaky beyond belief and Ranma still didn’t know if he had seen everything the man could do, even after Ryuu Kumon had shown up and he had learned of the Yama-sen-ken and Umi-sen-ken. Ryuu had employed the former against him to devastating effect, and Genma had shown Ranma but a glimpse of the latter; a glimpse from which Ranma had reverse-engineered or perhaps devised a bunch of techniques of his own. If there were counters to the Umi, or proper counters to the Yama beyond what Ranma had learned, it was an unknown. And who knew what else the old man still might not have shared. Even without those special techniques, he was still capable of giving Ranma a good sparring match based on pure strength, speed, and stances.
Mousse was another credible opponent, but it was mostly because he liked to fling around large quantities of edged weaponry, or tie you up with chains so that he could use those edged weapons. Mousse could take a hit too -- not as well as Ryouga -- but better than some of the fighters Ranma had faced and defeated.
There really wasn’t anyone else. Everyone else in the area was either vastly beneath his ability, or presumably still well above. The extremely old ghoul and the extremely old pervert were in the latter. He didn’t like thinking that either one could probably crush him if they decided to, but they had the benefit of decades and decades of experience, and presumably had scores of techniques of which Ranma had no knowledge. Even something as simple as pressure points could be devastating; both had proven that beyond a doubt.
That was the limit of the fighters in the area. Everyone else Ranma had found a good fight in wasn’t in the area often enough, or had been a one-time pass-through. That latter included the challenger Ranma still considered the most dangerous fighter he had ever faced: the Musk’s dragon prince, Herb.
Toguro had shown promise. He had come to Ranma with an honest challenge for a fight, simply because he had heard that Ranma was strong and he liked fighting strong people. No one in Ranma’s memory had ever challenged him with a completely clean slate background. Either they wanted revenge against Ranma personally, or against Ranma’s father and Ranma had been forced to fight in his father’s stead through one or another of his father’s tricks.
And then, just as the fight showed the possibility of getting good, the much-larger man had backed off, for no apparent reason. He had told Ranma to remember his name, and then left the school grounds.
It annoyed Ranma rather a lot, now that he was thinking about it. He had wanted a fight. He needed a fight.
*^*^*
One week later…
Toguro smiled grimly as he walked up the sidewalk towards Furinkan High School, as he had done a week ago. Sakyo’s business had concluded once again in a manner that suited Sakyo and crushed someone else. This time it had been a fellow Black Book Club member, Gonzo Tarukane. The extremely ugly gem dealer had made multiple critical errors in his final game, and Toguro had killed him with a simple kick to the back of the head, which knocked the man’s head right off.
There were three months before the next Tournament of Darkness, and Toguro was on his way to issue a personal invitation. Toguro had it in mind for Ranma Saotome to join Team Urameshi, to shore up their numbers in case one or more of that team’s members turned out to be weaklings. Yuusuke Urameshi himself wasn’t that powerful, but he had incredible potential and by the time the tournament rolled around was likely to be something of a force, particularly if Yuusuke went straight to Genkai after Toguro had given him his “invitation” two days before.
When Toguro first encountered Ranma Saotome, he had only used one percent of his demonic aura in their fight. When he fought Yuusuke Urameshi and his friend Kazuma Kuwabara, he had used five percent. A half-hearted punch to Kuwabara’s stomach had nearly killed that one; clearly that boy, who had a somewhat interesting technique which formed a sword of spirit energy, wasn’t very tough. Urameshi himself wasn’t all that much tougher, but he seemed to be able to fire large blasts of spirit energy, as Genkai sometimes did.
Toguro guessed that at Ranma’s full current potential, he would probably be able to physically match Toguro up to around 20% of his power, which was amazing considering that, according to Sakyo’s information, Saotome was just barely seventeen years old and was consequently nowhere near his physical prime. If Saotome’s learning curve could be believed, given another year and he might be able to match Toguro’s full power. This amazed Toguro, since he had been a demon for more than fifty years now and had been fighting ever since becoming one, and when he was still human he had trained in martial arts almost from the day after he learned to walk.
But it didn’t matter what Saotome might be able to do with a year; it mattered what he would do with three months. If he trained as if his life depended on it, which it would, in three months Toguro was certain he would have some fun.
But all of this depended on Toguro sending the right message. The right motivation was critical. If Saotome wasn’t motivated effectively enough, those three months would be worthless. And that was unacceptable.
When he reached the school, he found that Ranma Saotome was sitting on the same bench in the courtyard that he had been a week before. Toguro stood just a few feet away and decided to wait for Saotome to acknowledge him.
It didn’t take long. “Did you need something?”
Toguro smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, but Saotome didn’t seem to care. “I thought we could talk for a bit. Not here.”
Saotome blinked. “Huh? Why not?”
“Oh, this is a serious discussion”, Toguro replied. “It might be of interest to you not to be distracted.” Behind his sunglasses, his eyes gleamed just slightly. “You wouldn’t want to miss out on something important.”
Saotome appeared to think that over for a bit. “Alright. Where, then?”
Toguro shook his head. “Not here. Just follow me a couple blocks. It’s not far. Though you might get in trouble for leaving the grounds. But from what I hear, the rules of this school are rather arbitrary and so I don’t think you need to care about them for the moment.” He snickered.
Saotome did the same. “Yeah, that’s about right. Okay. Lead the way.”
The two left the grounds and walked for what was not a few blocks, but was more like a mile and a half. Toguro led the way, with Ranma walking just a pace behind. Neither said anything for the whole short trip.
They stopped in a construction yard. The crew was absent for the day, but in the background was a tremendous and incomplete edifice, constructed of steel and stone.
Toguro stood about ten feet in front of Ranma. They stood for a couple minutes, just facing each other.
Since Toguro didn’t seem to have anything to say, or at least he didn’t have the initiative, Ranma took it. “I wondered if you would be coming back. You left rather early in the fight. Can’t really say what I felt about that.” It wasn’t true, but he thought if he put this man a little off-balance it would be better for his standing in the conversation.
Toguro shook his head once. “Yes, I apologize for that. It was impolite. You see, I was in the area on the basis of rumors, and didn’t wish to exhaust my employer’s patience by wasting time.”
Ranma blinked at this. It was a weird thing to say. “I see. Your employer, so you say. What kind of work do you do that you don’t get free time, and that lets you act on rumors?”
Toguro smiled. “Oh, a little of this and a little of that. You could say that I’m in security and… procurement.” There was a slightly harsh edge in his voice. He had recognized Ranma’s ploy to put him off-balance for what it was. He didn’t care for it, but respected the idea. But this was his game. He would lead.
Ranma apparently didn’t agree. “Security. You’re a bodyguard, or something like that?”
Toguro nodded maliciously. “You might say that. More of an enforcer, perhaps… but bodyguard is not inaccurate.”
He snickered to himself. “But this is not entirely why were are here, not so?” He straightened and gave Ranma a hardened look, but the coldness of his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses. “We need to talk. What did you think of our fight last week?”
Ranma got the message instantly. “You cut it so short that I really couldn’t get anything out of it.”
Toguro nodded again. “From your reputation, I understand you wouldn’t even have thought it a warm-up. As I said, I hadn’t wanted to waste my employer’s time. But I’m a bit more free at the moment.” He smirked.
Ranma nodded, and sank into a defensive crouch.
Toguro shook his head. “Not yet. But I thank you for the idea. No. What I want to talk to you about now, is a deal between men.”
Ranma blinked, unsure of how to respond.
Toguro took that as a signal to continue. “My employer is a wealthy man; a member of an organization sometimes called the Black Book Club. Its other members are a selection of incredibly rich and powerful men and women across the world, that specialize in, shall we say, more dangerous businesses, for a more dangerous clientele.” Behind his sunglasses, his eyes glinted. “Extortion, illegal gambling, kidnapping, racketeering, murder; all the right services that the right money can buy.”
Ranma’s aura shifted, and his stance became slightly less defensive. Toguro nodded.
“Good. I’m glad you understand. But that’s not all. You see, some of the richest, most amoral members are not merely satisfied with the trappings of power; they want the real thing. And sometimes, it’s available if you’re willing to pay any price.”
Ranma’s aura shifted again, becoming harder, but he had not started emitting it.
“What are you after, Toguro? Are you extending an offer from your employer?” He spat. “Not interested.”
Toguro took off his sunglasses so that Ranma could see the cruelty in his eyes. “Nothing of the sort. All I’m after is the fight. That’s why I’m here: to tell you about the tournament.”
Ranma relaxed slightly but he did not leave his stance. “What tournament?”
Toguro nodded. “Every few years, at the edge of the world, in the darkness, there is a tournament. Wealthy people sponsor teams of five or six members, who fight against other teams for the right to advance. The contestants get to fight and maim and kill as much as they like, because killing is permitted in the fights, even expected. The team sponsors get to watch. They bet on their teams, betting with their lives… and the surviving members of the winning team; the team that wins the whole tournament; along with the owners… they all get one wish. A wish for anything they want. Money. Power. Fame. Immortality. No limits.”
Ranma’s eyes gleamed. “Anything?”
Toguro nodded. “Anything at all. All you have to do is join a team and bet your life. But it’s only to the surviving winners and sponsor… as just because your team wins does not mean all your members lived.”
He unbuttoned his coat and threw it several yards away. “You were holding back in our fight a week ago. I know that you were holding back a lot. I was too. I need to make you aware, to some degree, of how much.” His eyes flashed.
Suddenly the ground shattered beneath him as the muscles of his upper body expanded tremendously. An immense, powerful aura of pure fear and malice exploded away from his body and filled the air.
Ranma shuddered. He had remained standing even when the ground beneath him shook from the sudden tremor that was the release of Toguro’s power. He stared at the suddenly much more muscular man and shuddered again as he felt the power that he was emanating. It was over thirty times what he had emanated in their fight, perhaps forty. It was an aura easily worthy of Herb; but there was no heat at all. Instinctively Ranma knew that the Hiryuu Shouten Ha would be completely useless against this man. He wondered what would.
Toguro nodded in satisfaction. “When we fought last week, I was using only one percent of my power. I’m now at about 40%. You see that building across the lot; that one in construction. At my current power I could level it in one strike. Do you understand? I can get far stronger than this!”
Ranma nodded, only barely remaining standing. Inside, he was trembling from the fear aura. It was stirring up images he didn’t want to remember.
“I extend an invitation to you to join that tournament I spoke of. Train as hard as you possibly can, and even harder. Train until the brink of death, because you will be fighting to the death. If you refuse my invitation”, his eyes glinted, “I’ll kill you right now.”
Those words woke Ranma up entirely. All his fear vanished instantly as he prepared himself for an assault.
“You have three months. I will send you a messenger when it’s time to go. You don’t need to know who your teammates are. Just be ready. If you’re not at the tournament I’ll hunt you down.”
The aura of power vanished and Toguro’s muscles returned to their normal state, but all of the malice remained. “Remember. That was 40%. You have three months. Don’t waste your time or mine. I don’t care how or where you train, or who with… but if you don’t compete, you and all your family and all your friends will die. Remember that.”
He retrieved his coat and walked away. When he was out of sight Ranma collapsed and lay on the ground, gasping for breath.
*^*^*
Ranma sat on his bedroll in the guest-room at the Tendou home that he and his father had been sharing for the previous year. None of the Tendou family nor his father had been around when he got back, but somehow he didn’t care at the moment. He was waiting for someone who wasn’t any of those.
He had completely recovered from his brush with Toguro’s aura and was now internally steaming. He was ready to strike; he knew exactly who would open his door first when that person arrived. If that person refused his request, Ranma was prepared for violence.
Some time passed before the door began to open. Before the door was even finished opening, Ranma had his quarry by the throat.
Happosai stared at his sometimes-”student”/prospective school heir. He had known Ranma’s speed was increasing tremendously of late, and he could have been prepared even for what he had just seen, because he was still a little bit faster than the boy; but that was a reaction time he hadn’t been mentally expecting. Ranma was clearly on edge and Happosai honestly didn’t know why. He had felt a horrible aura this afternoon; was the boy somehow involved with that?
Ranma’s eyes gave away the answer before he even spoke. “I need training. Lots of training. I have three months.” He let go of Happosai’s neck.
The old man looked at his “heir” as if he had never seen him. Normally the boy was a jovial sort, but there was none of it now. There was deadly seriousness in the boy’s eyes; Ranma was prepared to kill him, or at least to try. This was not the righteous anger that he so loved provoking in pretty women by groping them or stealing their lingerie. This was true killing intent. Happosai mentally threw away his own good mood, focused his mind, and simply prepared to stare at the boy for a long time, to take his measure.
When fifteen minutes had elapsed with neither of them moving an inch or relenting the tiniest bit in their seriousness, Happosai simply nodded.
Whatever the boy had gotten into; whatever that horrible aura had been; for once, and perhaps for the first time in his life, Happosai was seriously prepared to help.
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(Posted Sat, 05 May 2007 07:50)
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