A shadow moved, and Kodachi slowed her silent passage towards the kitchen.
Her brother’s delusions required that he dine in the manner of a feudal noble, although she had long since given up persuading him that many of the dishes he routinely dined upon were at least of nineteenth century origin, rather than the sixteenth as he believed. While she had no objection to a formal dinner, making it a nightly thing (not to mention breakfast and luncheon, as well) when she and her brother were the only persons in the household to qualify for places at what a European feudalist would consider the High Table struck her as more than somewhat preposterous. Besides which, between her schoolwork, gymnastics, horticulture, chemistry and the traditional female tasks of managing the household, she was too busy for formal dining.
Tatewaki, therefore, dined alone each night in full formal panoply.
His delusions also required that he should dispatch members of the household staff to perform acts the legality of which she was frankly dubious of. It was unquestionable that the morality of setting a family servant skilled in the arts of ninjitsu to spy upon the home of a girl he was enamoured of was… lacking.
Which didn’t stop her from sidling up to the doorway through which that servant had just passed, and pausing just out of sight.
“…auburn-haired woman, of an age with my departed mother, and seeking her daughter? Hmm, doubtless the mother of the flame-haired beauty who has so recently sought my companionship.”
“Yes, Master. Quite.”
“Ah, such a pity, is it not, that they should be reunited before I could facilitate such an event?” There was a theatrical sigh, and a faint utterance of agreement. “Still, it is inevitable that I shall make a favourable impression upon the matron when we do meet, even without such an act to make her beholden to me. I imagine that it was an emotional, indeed tearful, meeting, of mother and child so long separated by cruel fate and crueller men.”
“Ah, no, Master.”
“No? The foul Saotome forced them apart, even at such proximity that their anguished cries were clearly heard by one another? Such villainy is not to be tolerated!”
“Ah, n-no, Master. She wasn’t there…”
“Ah? The beast must have had forewarning of the elder flame-haired beauty’s coming, and caused the younger’s absence. Tell on, good Sasuke. How was she greeted in the household of my fierce tiger, Tendo Akane?”
“Miss Kasumi welcomed her most happily, and Miss Nabiki was friendly, but Master Tendo professed to disbelieve that she was Saotome’s wife because she was not mother to his son, Ranma. Indeed, she herself was most insistent that she did not have a son.”
“Of course she is not Saotome’s wife; the gods themselves would move to prevent such a beast from wedding any soul that might birth one such as my tidy and pure flame-haired maiden! The notion is preposterous. It strikes me as ominous, though, that the mercenary Tendo Nabiki might display friendship to her; no doubt the wretch thinks to denude my future mother-in-law of wealth and property, neglecting as ever the greater value of rank and position. Action shall be required to defend against such an eventuality; I shall think on this, for the mercenary’s plans are ever obscure.”
Kodachi could clearly imagine her brother frowning in apparent cogitation, his head supported upon a closed fist. Her lips curled disdainfully.
“Bah, it is impossible; the paths she might follow in her schemes are too numerous for even the Blue Thunder to divine them all from without the mires. None but a fool attempts to counter all moves an opponent might make, for to do so renders oneself impossible to move to press one’s own aims; and none wouldst consider naming the Blue Thunder a fool! Mayhaps the manner of her defeat shall become clearer in fuller knowledge of her deportment about her victim. Speak further, Sasuke. How passed the remainder of the afternoon and evening?”
“The lady spent the afternoon in conversation with the Tendo family, and eventually invited them to join her for dinner at a local restaurant in the absence of her daughter. After consideration, Master Tendo declined, but Miss Kasumi and Miss Nabiki took her up on the offer. Soon after, I was driven from my post by a foul-smelling concoction of Master Tendo’s creation, and…”
“Wait! Kasumi and Nabiki went with her to dine, you say; but what of the fierce Tendo Akane, Sasuke, what of my fierce tiger? Why did she not accompany them?”
“Ah, Miss Akane did not return home after school this morning, Master. I believe she went camping with Saotome Ranma…”
“Have you no sense of priorities, man? You should have forthwith informed me of her failure to return safely to the bosom of her family! Now, the dastardly sorceror’s apprentice has had nigh on a full day to work his unwholesome wiles upon her innocence, ample time to have covered his traces for all but the most skilled of pursuit!” The clatter as the traditional low table overturned was drowned beneath her brother’s raised voice, but the sound of his footsteps was clear enough Kodachi stepped away from the door in time for him to plunge through unhindered. “I must avaunt, in search of my fair maidens, for surely they are in dire straits without my succour!”
Kodachi eyed her sibling’s back until he thundered around the corner of the hallway out of sight, and then turned to peer into the dining room. Inside, she found the family retainer valiantly struggling with the table and several bowls of delicacies. “My brother is embarking on another quixotic quest, I take it?”
“Yes, Mistress Kodachi,” wheezed the ninja.
“I can’t imagine that watching a normal family has any redeeming aspects for you, either…”
“Ah, Miss Kasumi served me a most delicious lunch, Mistress.”
“Oh? I must thank her at some time.” She stepped into the room, directing a creased brow at the bowls balanced precariously about the elderly ninja’s person. Idly, she asked, “I don’t suppose there is any chance of his actually rescuing the lights of his love from this ‘sorcerer’s apprentice’?”
“No, mistress,” replied the ninja, carefully lowering the table and freezing instantly as the platter of assorted sliced vegetables wobbled on his outstretched foot. “The young Master’s ‘Flame Haired Maiden’ is Saotome Ranma. I don’t know why he thinks there is a boy of that name.”
Kodachi blinked rapidly as that penetrated. “Curiouser and Curiouser,” she remarked softly, her lips quirking as once again she found her brother reminding her of the characters in that rather silly English book. Then, in a lightning change of mood, she said, “Let me help you with that.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
She lifted the bowl of rice from the ninja’s forehead and stepped to the low storage chest against the wall. “Housekeeper still keeps a supply of chopsticks in here, doesn’t she?”
“I believe so, Mistress,” said the ninja, cautiously turning his head. He returned his attention to his task as the table began to tilt dangerously.
Transferring the bowl to her left hand, she opened the chest and rummaged neatly, soon emerging with a napkin and a pair of fresh chopsticks. “Thank you, Sasuke,” she said, adding a small dish of sashimi from the table to her own burden.
Sasuke’s eyes widened as the balance of the table changed radically. The chopsticks the young master had used rolled across the tabletop.
As she swept out of the dining room, her light meal in her palms, Kodachi heard a faint clatter, as of small pieces of bamboo landing on the tatami. She nudged the door closed with her heel and returned to her bedroom, the mission that had distracted her from her homework fulfilled by the purloined dishes from her brother’s meal.
Genma peered at the sign bearing the name of the street. It read گڙٱٳغؤےۨۃۊڶڢ, or possibly ҸҐыФДқңіт. He removed his glasses and wiped them carefully on his gi. Somehow he managed to bend the earpieces so they pointed upwards when he put them back on, but he managed to get them to stay in place anyway.
Now the sign clearly read שׁנּפּזּטּהּﭏתּﭏﭐ.
He stood and pondered the situation carefully. The roadsign didn’t correspond with his memory of the streets he and his son had walked to reach his old friend’s house just two weeks ago – and it wasn’t the only one, either. He’d had the same problem at the last three street corners, which was where he had first checked his navigation after leaving the bar. This was, as it were, a significant problem; for while he was an expert at all forms of navigation, the best form of navigation for city streets was to check the road names – you couldn’t use a compass to locate yourself against distant landmarks, after all, because you couldn’t see past all the practically identical houses and shops to see the distinctive landmarks.
On the other hand, since he couldn’t clearly remember whether he ought to turn left or right at the junction he thought this was, he supposed it didn’t particularly matter whether he was where he thought he was. And if this wasn’t where he thought it was, it didn’t matter which way he turned anyway, since he had just as much chance of arriving where he was headed for either way. He nodded decisively at this logical conclusion, bracing himself against yet another earth tremor, and considered his future direction.
The faint sounds of a catfight some blocks away decided him, and he decisively walked in a curve across the middle of the junction. Reaching the diagonally opposite side of the junction, he checked the sign there, soon discovering that someone had defaced it with a vile-smelling chunky fluid. He rescued his glasses from the goop, wiping them again on his clothing (somehow repairing the previous damage), and resumed his path toward his son’s camp.
The woodland silence was broken by a canine sneeze. Ranma lurched to her feet, sneezing again.
“Someone talking about you?” asked Akane dryly. She had forgiven the shapeshifter for bringing her dinner back to camp. She had even forgiven her for bringing an extra rabbit back and telling her how to prepare it for spitting over the campfire. She still wasn’t sure about watching the big canine chow down on the plumper rabbit, still raw, as Akane’s dinner roasted in the flames.
Ranma shook vigorously. “Mmaybe,” she admitted. “Ffellt more like someone doingg ssomethingg stupid…”
“And no one we know would do something stupid, would they?”
“Grrr,” agreed the canine, settling down again near the fire. “If Prrreist waitingg when we get home, hav panda forrr dnnrrr.”
Akane laughed shortly. “Don’t damage the fur, we could use a nice rug.”
The Blue Thunder exalted, for his quest was progressing swiftly to its just conclusion. He had left the family manse in the manner of the storms which commonly presaged the phenomena he took his cognomen from, and sought upon the lands about sign of his quarry that he might pursue the fiend to his noisome lair.
Like a beneficence from the gods, the first such sign had come before him within minutes of leaving home, for he sighted, at the further end of the street, the Sorcerer Saotome, his bloated form unmistakable in the shabby gi he adopted as his feeble disguise as a respectable martial artist. The temptation to descend upon the monster and dispatch it from the Earth, to free the Flame-Haired Maiden from durance vile and similarly cripple the preposterous ‘engagement’ forced upon Tendo Akane, was nigh irresistible; but yet the tactical prowess of the rightful inheritor of Musashi was sufficient to overcome the insistence of the heart, particularly when he saw the man’s furtive progression down the street. Every few metres, he took a step to the side, no doubt beginning a dive for cover from some possible observer Kuno was unable to perceive himself due to the distance between himself and his quarry.
It was instantly clear that the sorcerer did not wish others to know of his present destination; from that it was no more than a second’s thought to determine that he was on his way to meet up with his unwholesome offspring. Undoubtedly, they would then move on away from civilisation, dragging the two fair and defenceless maidens to whatever dank rock they made their permanent lair under for foul and salacious purposes. Clearly, this was not to be tolerated; and equally clearly, while raiding the demons’ lair was the more dramatic resolution to the situation, rescuing the maidens before their despoilment was the more satisfactory denouement in many respects, not least of which that he would receive the thanks of the maidens that much sooner.
Now, while accosting the elder Saotome and torturing from him the location at which he intended to reunite with his son promised a certain visceral pleasure, there existed the possibility that he might manage duplicity even under such circumstances (for surely, he must have learned his trade from another, and that other was no doubt equally villainous and inclined to demonstrate agonising techniques upon the bodies of his students). Thusly, the alternative of putting into practice his unparalleled skills in surveillance and tracking by following the elder Saotome to his meeting was to be preferred; and it was unquestionable that the Blue Thunder could defeat both members of the dastardly Saotome family in simultaneous combat, for there was no finer exponent of the arts of battle than he. He would surely present a most dashing figure as he rescued the maidens, and they would assuredly express their gratitude in due style.
With all that in mind, Kuno stooped into the shade projected by a substantial delivery vehicle, and observed as the man proceeded to the end of the street, where he recovered some article from behind the sign bearing the road name – disguising the act by first vomiting over it, and then pretending to recover his eyeglasses from the noisome puddle that resulted; even the Blue Thunder would have been convinced of the innocence of his actions had he not incompetently checked the wrong sign first – and continued on his way. Kuno now ran to the last cover before the road junction, watching the man until he was a sufficient distance away before crossing the road in stealthy pursuit.
The night promised to be a long one, for the younger Saotome had nearly half a day’s lead, even slowed by the struggles of the two girls. Nonetheless, the reward at the dawn would be sufficient recompense, and the scion of House Kuno would not succumb to such plebeian weaknesses as fatigue, nor would his quarry be capable of detecting him before the time came to strike, and strike decisively.
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(Posted Sun, 23 Sep 2007 19:00)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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