Nodoka carefully dusted around the shrine to Ranma; she had installed it not long after hearing of her son’s death. It had been five years, and she still missed him dearly. The feather-duster paused as she gazed longingly and lovingly at a picture of Ranma: he was two in this picture. She tore her gaze away from the picture of a laughing child when she heard the door open.
“Mamoru? Makoto? Is that you?”
A girl’s voice replied. “It’s me, ma’am. Hayate.”
Nodoka frowned as she went to greet her third adoptee. “Hayate, why aren’t you at the park? Weren’t you going to meet up with Sakura there?” The girl, a wheelchair bound blonde, rolled into the hall. Nodoka noted the disheveled state Hayate’s clothes were in. “Don’t tell me you were bullied again? Was it the same kids?”
Hayate blushed as she looked away. However, she didn’t give a reply.
Nodoka clucked her tongue. After Ranma, she couldn’t help feeling more protective of her charges. But after an incident where she made a scene while waving a katana about in the front yard of a girl picking on her other child, Makoto, the kids started to clam up. “Was it embarrassment, or are they just trying to protect me from myself?” Nodoka wondered with a hint of pride.
“You know, if Makoto finds out, she might bust some heads. She doesn’t really need to get into anymore fights. The school is already mentioning transferring her. How about if I were to go talk with their parents?”
Hayate, however, didn’t meet Nodoka’s eyes. “It’s fine, really. Just leave it be.” She then rolled off to be by herself.
Nodoka sighed. “This won’t do at all.” She decided that she would look into it right away. “Watch the house, will you? I need to run to the store to get a few things for dinner.”
“Hard time isn’t so hard, after all,” Genma thought to himself. Free food, free medical care, and once Genma was back on his feet the other inmates learned he wasn’t a pushover either. Genma was biding his time. “Soon, I can go find Ranma. Then we can get his training back on track.” Genma hadn’t really noticed that five years sped by, but he was getting anxious to be free.
Genma cocked his head, he thought he heard scratching noises coming from outside his window. His senses told him something was out there. “There it is again,” he whispered to himself. He got up to look out the window.
“Greetings!” greeted some sort of orange ... thing. It was hanging by its claws just under his window sill, its head peeking through the bars.
Genma wasn’t sure what to make of it. “What are you?”
The thing chuckled. “I’m an imp of some importance. You can call me Larry, though my friends call me Steve.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“I did say I was an imp.”
Genma thought about that, but then his head began to hurt. “What do you want?”
“Ah, straight to the point; I like that. It’s so happen I am here representing a fraction that has some concerns about your son.”
“Ranma?!” Genma was overjoyed to hear mention on his son.
“Yes. I’m here to recruit you. We could use a fellow of your talents. We were hoping that once Ranma returned home, we could reunite the two of you. Are you agreeable with that? You’d have to give up this rather ... um ... cushy lifestyle you have going for you.”
Genma nodded his head in agreement. “I’d really like to find Ranma again. However, there is this problem of me being in jail.” Genma didn’t think it was much of a problem, he had confidence he could break out any time he wanted to.
The imp chuckled. “Not a problem. We’ll break you out and in return you do us some favors while waiting for Ranma to show up. Get ready to run, because here we go.”
Genma had no time to respond, for suddenly the wall blew outwards. Genma could see gouts of flame erupting all over the yard below, drawing a panic from the guards and inmates.
“Hurry up, lard-bottom.” Genma heard Steve’s (or was it Larry’s) voice beckon to him from somewhere outside. With a shrug, Genma leaped from his third floor cell and hit the ground running. By the time someone noticed his empty cell, it was already hours later.
Nodoka’s grip tightened against the grip of the armchair she sat in, watching the evening news.
...You are now viewing scenes of devastation at Fuchu Prison. Authorities are at a lost at how prison inmate, Genma Saotome, managed to cause such horrific damage in his escape attempt. Many viewers may remember Genma Saotome, infamous marital arts father. He was sent to Fuchu Prison to serve his time after the most shocking and scandalous case to have occurred in our fine nation. He was convicted of child abuse and negligence of the grossest kind – his child, Ranma, is still missing to this day. For those just tuning in, notorious criminal Genma Saotome had just escaped from prison, destroying much of it and terrorizing inmates and guards in the process. We go now, live, to our reporter in the field. Miku Takamata, over to you.
The images on the scene shifted from an aerial view of the smoking prison complex to a reporter on the ground in the main yard. Scenes of chaos and action goes on behind her as firefighters and guards are still containing small fires.
“Miku Takamata here, at Fuchu prison. Standing with me is the warden. Warden Goshu, what can you tell me about Genma Saotome’s stay here?”“I wouldn’t exactly have called him a model prisoner. He tended to dodge work and eat everything. At first, he seemed like the kind who would be targeted by other inmates. But he must have done something, as the attempts against him dwindled and soon the other inmates gave him a wide berth. He was quiet though, tended to keep to himself when he wasn’t causing trouble through his gluttony.”
“Warden, what can you tell us about his escape?”
“When it started ... I can not describe it. I honestly thought we were under attack by an army. Explosions and fire rocked the compound. By the time we got everything under better control, and I could spare some men to check on the prisoners, Genma was discovered missing. The wall of his cell looked like it was punched out or blown out. In the confusion he must have slipped out. Inmates situated in neighboring cells said they thought they heard talking, but could only make out one word he said loud. He called out ‘Ranma.’ We, as yet, do not know how he managed to sabotage the prison in order to sow the confusion needed to escape.”
“Warden Goshu. Are you implying that he may have had help in escaping by his own son, Ranma?”
“I do not know if that is true. But at this point, all possibilities, no matter how unlikely, are on the table.”
“Thank you Warden Goshu. This is Miku Takamata, signing off. Back to you, Ideko.”
Nodoka hit the power button on the TV remote. Her countenance was stormy. Her adopted children stared at her worriedly from the couch, their homework laying forgotten in their laps.
Soun flipped off the morning news before his wife could see it. No use worrying her. She was doing well, and the American doctors had done a marvelous job. However, Soun’s reasoning was a bit more selfish. He was embarrassed at having any connection to the Master or Genma.
“Good Morning, Father,” his youngest politely greeted him as she entered the room. “What would you like for breakfast?”
Soun chuckled. He had quickly gotten used to the American style of breakfast – drive-thru to go. Usually he nabbed coffee and a pastry on his way out running morning errands. “No thank you, Akane. Do you have any plans for the day?”
Akane frowned. “But I was planning on a nice traditional Japanese breakfast. Rice, pickles, and some miso soup.”
Soun smiled fondly at his youngest. “It sounds very nice indeed. I am sure your mother would love some. Now, what are your plans for the day? Would you like me to drop you off at the mall after school? Maybe you’ll want to hang out at a friend’s place to do homework?”
Akane delicately arranged the supplies for tea. “I will be staying late after school. The Japan Club I started last year is starting to grow, finally. It seems that Japanese anime is a growing fad and many otaku want to learn more about our culture and heritage. Many now want to petition for Japanese to be a language elective.”
Soun smiled. “I know how much you wanted Japanese to be in the curriculum. I am glad you are enjoying some success.”
Kasumi bounced into the room. “Oh, please. Spare us for a change. The only students in that club are dorks.”
Soun sighed. “Please, Kasumi. You know what we’ve told you about being nice to your sister. Her interests are merely different than yours. Speaking of which, will you be at the range again tonight?”
Kasumi nodded. “Yeah. I have to stay sharp. I overheard my trainer on the phone. He’s thinking Olympics. Olympics! Me! Like, Oh My Gawd! Can you imagine me in the Olympics? I’m like the best shot in LA. If I keep working at it, I could be the best shot in the World!”
Akane rolled her eyes. “Guns ... how barbaric. Our Samurai forbearers eschewed such a lowly weapon, leaving it to the sneaky, dirty ninja to take up.”
Kasumi shook her head but kept her tongue. It was an old fight among them, and she knew Akane was just trying to push buttons. Kasumi had given up trying to educate her youngest sister in actual firearm history in Japan instead of the idealistic fantasy she had dreamed up.
“Now, now Akane. What have we told you about being nice to your sister. Kasumi, you know your mom and myself are very proud of you. Even if you don’t get into the Olympics.”
Kasumi smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Thanks, Dad, what?” Nabiki yawned as she entered the room.
“And do you have any plans today?”
Nabiki rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you forgot my photoshoot?”
“was that today?” Soun blinked, trying to remember.
“Yeah, Mom is escorting me there. How about yourself? You don’t need to be at the Dojo until this afternoon?”
“Oh,” Soun shrugged, “there is some yardwork that needs doing. The shed could use a coat of paint. Rocco and the guys want to catch that new Van Damme flick. I am being interviewed by Martial Arts Today.” Soun ended his announcement with a mischievous smile.
Kasumi and Nabiki were suddenly in his face, squealing. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” Kasumi demanded.
Nabiki pumped her fist and cheered. “Awesome, Dad!”
Soun laughed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Michiko glided into the room and glanced over everyone. “I don’t see anyone eating breakfast. Come on kids, don’t follow your father’s awful example.”
Akane returned to fixing a traditional breakfast while Nabiki tackled the toaster and Kasumi poured two bowls of Frosted Flakes. While Akane ate her rice and veggies, her older sisters had toast, cereal, and orange juice.
An orange imp stood in front of a caved in hillside, watching as a giant boulder was forcefully ejected. “Hello Happosai. My friends call me Steve, others call me Larry, but you can call me Bill.”
Happosai peered at the short thing standing by the cave entrance. “No, I think I will call you Claudette. You look like an Imp of some importance, so I take it I owe you for my rescue? What exactly did you have in mind?” Happosai wasn’t overly worried. He dealt with imps before.
“Well, my employers could use your help in return for information on a prospective heir to your school – the son of Genma Saotome.”
Happosai cackled as he rubbed his hand. “Tell me more.”
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(Posted Tue, 28 Aug 2012 02:53)
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