'Stupid stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid STUPID!' Rushing down the streets of Nerima Shampoo cursed as her frustration threatened to boil over within her.
Another diary holder, that’s what Akane had to be. Shampoo had known that there would be others, that she was just one competitor within a larger competition, but coming from a small village isolated from so much else she had foolishly disregarded the odds of ever running into another diary holder. She had already determined that none of the other girls from her village had received a diary, both from years of living with them and becoming familiar to their habits, to discretely looking over their own ‘secret’ journals while they were away with various family chores. And if no one else in the village had a diary then the isolation of the Jusenkyo Valley should have deterred anyone else from finding her. Even as she tracked her target she had dismissed the notion that she would ever encounter another contestant. After all in such a large world, what were the chances of such a small group actually running into each other?
As far as she was concerned, the scroll in her pack was prize enough and as long as she kept a low profile. She’d probably just out live all the rest of the contestants and be done with this silly game. That dumb shadowy spirit had obviously no idea as to what he was doing.
But now all that had changed. Without even looking for one she had come across another future book holder. An enemy, the competition, an obstacle to winning this game. And what had she done? She ran away. Cursing herself again Shampoo wasn’t sure who she was angrier with, Akane for lying to her and pretending to be her friend or herself for falling for the other girls’ ruse so easily. Obviously this Akane was far more dangerous that she appeared. She may not have been as strong a fighter as Shampoo but she had found her in the middle of a crowded city and lulled her right to her home. Who knew what sort of trap she had had laid out for her? If it hadn’t been for that clueless older sister of Akane’s … Shampoo shuddered as she thought at how close she had been to being removed from the game.
'Aarrrrghhh!' And that was the most frustrating part! She had had it! She had held Akane’s diary right in the palm of her hands and she had fled! Why spirits, why!
"Be a dear, show the girl around. She's alone in a strange land, doesn't speak the language... She could use a friend."
‘Ah yes, that’s why,’ Shampoo thought as she flinched at the bitter sting of the memory. She had been grateful to the healer for his help and generosity and enjoyed the thought of relaxing a bit in this large city as she waited for news of her prey’s arrival. Akane had seemed so … helpful. The girl was polite and accommodating, patiently waiting while Shampoo had flipped through her phrase book and answering each of her questions with simple honesty. She was even fun to spar with, along the level of a skilled farmer or trader, but still she had held a passion in her attacks that never ceased to amuse the Amazon during her warm up. It was clear now though that if Akane was the type of opponent that she would be facing from now on she could no longer afford to take anything at face value. The thought at how easily the girl had manipulated her, had made a fool of her scathed at the young warrior’s pride.
Reaching her destination Shampoo easily leapt up to the second story back window of the clinic that she was staying at. ‘This one had best leave this place as well,’ she thought. After all, who knew if the good doctor himself was part of Akane’s scheme? Swiftly packing all of her belongings she was soon out of the room and back out into the open world.
Racing along the roof tops Shampoo considered her options. Still out there was Akane, now probably aware that Shampoo was on to her. If she really was another diary holder then she’d know when and where Shampoo would be. Hiding out and sneak attacks would be out … or were they? Slowing down as an idea came to her, a wicked grin slowly spread across her lips. If Akane was a diary holder then she would know what was going to happen next, and after spending weeks trying to track someone who could constantly foil her best laid traps despite her own journal, Shampoo had learned that knowing the future wasn’t as all powerful as it seemed. It was possible to alter the future, one just had to be... creative. A quick read through of her journal and she’d have all the information she’d need.
Bounding off once again, Shampoo swore that she would not lose to this latest challenge!
For many people, a hero is a person that flies through the air while wearing their underwear outside the rest of their clothes. This is partially true but far from the whole story. There is a marked difference between heroism and duty. It is when a person, just one completely ordinary person out of all the ordinary people everywhere in the world, sees something terrible about to happen. It is in that split second when they see something coming so terrible and so cataclysmic that they must act. There is not one moment to think about what must be done, there is only time to do it, no thought, only action! It is in that second of observation and automatic reaction those heroes are born.
Today in Nerima the very last person anyone could have suspected would be a hero, if only for a very brief moment. In sharp and stark contrast to what he would momentarily become later in that same evening, a passive observer may have incorrectly labeled him a villain. The room was cast in a dark red as he was hunched over his desk peering at the contents of a photo album as if it were a magic eye drawing. Each of these photos was comprised of a single subject, the same person at a variety of different locations. At her home in her room, running to school, and in the dojo breaking bricks.
He sighed at the very sight of her, captivated utterly by her beauty and grace. He thought then about how none of the others understood her, not really. He was perfect for her. He knew that. But how could he get close to her? It wasn't possible so long as that buffoon kept on obsessing over her as if she was some prize to be earn-
His chain of thought was cut off just then, as he noticed a new picture of her in the bath. As he cleaned up the blood dripping from his nose, he couldn't help but feel thankful to Deus for providing him with this perfect gift. He had never kept a proper written diary for himself, as his own life was so dull and dreary. She was his only bright spot, the silver lining to his cloud. The one thing he really gave any kind of damn about in his life. It was only natural that his "diary" had comprised entirely of stealthy pictures of her. Now, he could see what she would be up to before she even did anything. Now, he could bask in the warmth of her beauty without having to sneak around in bushes or peering in windows. No risk. Just pictures appearing out of nowhere. Instead, he took more artistic pictures when he couldn't take out his album. That was why his room was red, after all. He had to make his parents think he was developing the pictures he'd been taking throughout the day. The game Deus had set them all held little interest to him. He knew he stood no chance of winning, especially since she had a diary as well. He couldn't go up against her, even if he had wanted to.
And then he stopped. Another page had been turned, and the picture caused his heart to almost stop there and then. It took a moment for his brain to figure out just what he was looking at, and by the time he had figured it out he already had his shoes and coat on, photo album in hand. In the moment his thoughts returned to him, he grew afraid; more terrified than he'd thought possible. But still, his feet moved onwards. He had to do this. He had to stop this. But first, he had to figure out where the hell this happened. He looked again at the picture and tried to focus his attention on possible clues in the background. This wasn't easy though. The contents of the foreground drew his attention again and again, each time resolving his normally fragile will just a little piece more.
Elsewhere in Furinkan there was another figure desperately fleeing her house. Akane wasn't sure what had happened, or what was waiting for her when she would get there. But according to her diary, within the hour Nabiki would be found beaten and bloodied down by the canal. She didn't see her attacker, but according to later entries it was almost certainly a mugging. Her purse had been taken and found empty in a bin in a nearby street.
She couldn't call the police for obvious reasons. The mugging hadn't happened yet. There were no indications that any such thing would even occur. She didn't know exactly where Nabiki had gone out to earlier, but she knew this was where the mugging happened.
There was a bush near the bridge. It was the perfect hiding place as nobody would see her here. All she had to do now was wait for her sister to appear, however long that would take. Now that Akane had the time to pause for breath and think about the situation, a number of thoughts occurred to her. Why hadn't she seen this event before now? What could she have done that would have changed things this much? It didn't make any sense!
Unless... it was one of the other diary holders.
Well. It was about time she ran into one of the other diary holders. One of them must have incorrectly determined that Nabiki was another diary holder and stole the purse to try and get at her diary. Akane then smacked herself on the head as she realized that in her hurry to save Nabiki, she'd left her own diary at home. Even if another diary holder hadn't been involved, she could have used this to determine what would happen if she'd waited. There might still be time for her to head off home and get it...
"Nihao, Airen thief."
The voice came from above her, up on the bridge. Looking up she saw Shampoo stood there, gazing down at her with an intensity and focus that was almost a sentient, murderous being in its own right. She hopped off the bridge as if walking downstairs, and landed on the ground beneath in much the same fashion.
"Sh-Shampoo? What are you doing here?" Akane asked, though she knew the answer already. Dammit, she was a martial artist, and heir to the Tendo dojo! She was not scared. She was not frightened. She was in control. Though her knees wouldn't stop knocking, and her heart seemed determined to leap out through her throat. But she was not scared!
"Shampoo know you got special diary from big man. Shampoo got one too. See?" She pulled what must have been her diary out of her dress then and opened it to a certain point. "It say, 'Akane help Ranma. Warn that one about Shampoo! Then help her hide.' And then it say 'Airen protect Akane. He only looks at her!' She closed the diary and stuck it back in her dress with a smug look. "It not say that now. You obstacle, in both Shampoo hunt for Ranma and in love for Airen! But still not certain you have diary, so Shampoo set trap. Plan to beat up greedy girl." Shampoo slid into a battle pose then, and Akane knew there was no escape. She was too fast, too agile and out for blood. Even if she could have escaped - for instance, while she was doing that whole bit with the diary - she wouldn't have run. Her pride wouldn't allow it. This was a straight out challenge, and she had to accept no matter how outmatched she was. Her former friend continued. "Shampoo solve problem before problem start! You betrayed me! Try to manipulate me! This is fruit of your pride!"
The words stung coming from someone that had been a new friend she'd only just made. It hurt that Shampoo wanted to fight her like this, lured her into a trap, and planned to have her killed off. And it hurt because some of what she said was true. She had planned to get on Ranma's good side by helping him get rid of Shampoo. Preferably if possible this would occur before the kiss of marriage deal. With him helping her out and her helping him with her diary they'd have been virtually unstoppable. And Shampoo would have had to play the role of pawn as Akane played human chess. Worse yet, the worst thing of all, if her diary had not updated quickly enough it would have been Nabiki that paid the price all for the sake of an experiment. All because of her. That stung down to the core.
But none of that hurt quite so much as the sweep kick Shampoo hit her with from seemingly nowhere, nor the landing face down after having been flipped completely in the air. Shampoo grabbed her by the hair forcing her to her feet before she could even try to stand up. Switching the grip to the collar of her shirt Shampoo raised Akane into the air and smirked at the futile attempt to struggle free. "Last words, traitor? You look like choking on somethi-"
Just then Akane spat dirt directly into Shampoo's eyes. The shock was enough to force the warrior woman to slacken her grip enough for Akane to easily break free as she pushed away with one hand and grabbed the diary sticking out of her dress in one fluid movement.
Then she started to run. She might never get the taste out of her mouth, but that had to be done. It was incredibly obvious now that Shampoo had been playing nice and holding back a considerable amount during their earlier spar, Akane had not been. This was not a fight she could win through any reasonable method and she needed a little distance in order for her two second old plan to work. Shampoo wouldn't be blinded for long and when she could see again, well that wasn't worth thinking about. She went to tear the pages out of the diary-
Suddenly she was falling again. The diary went flying out of her hands and landed somewhere else, only the gods knew where. She was finished now. That was her first, last, and only chance to get out of this alive. Looking down she saw that there was a bola tied around her legs and very shortly after that there was a heavy weight sitting on her chest.
"Bad girl! No escape! Shampoo might have made it quick before, but now..."
Akane threw a punch with as much strength as her position would allow. It was easily caught and then Shampoo pulled that same arm back. The pain Akane felt then was unlike anything she'd ever yet known in her life. It shot down her arm and left an echo throughout her entire being. As she fell unconscious she could swear she heard an ear piercing scream. Just before she fell unconscious, her last thought was the realization that it was her.
Shampoo cursed under her breath. That scream was bound to attract attention even though the two of them would be concealed by the bridge. She'd have to make this a fair bit faster than she'd originally wanted. Reaching into her dress she pulled out a knife and raised her arm to strike...
"NO! Stop!"
Shampoo turned around and saw a skinny figure standing at the edge of the river. His voice, already very high pitched and quiet, was cracking under the weight of obvious terror. He would be easily dealt with once she'd finished off Akane.
"Y-You shouldn't do that! I-If you do, I'll d-destroy this!"
He'd found her diary. That was a bit of a time saver. She'd been intending to retrieve it after dealing with Akane but this witness saved her a fair bit of time.
"Did-didn't Deus tell you? I-If our diaries are destroyed, we d-d-die!"
Another diary holder she though, how many were there in this area? That explained a fair bit though. Her own diary had stated that nobody would pass by here until Nabiki would later on. Obviously he must have read about this and planned to interfere. By the way he was shaking and stammering he was obviously terrified. It might have been a bluff, designed to throw her off balance, but there wasn't time to take this slowly. The knife in her hand was the best option, but if she threw it and hit the diary that could be disastrous - depending on whether he was bluffing or not of course. She smirked as an idea came to her. A fraction of a second later the knife was flying through the air, the boy's gaze tracked its flight path and he froze in terror even when it struck the ground in front of him. He glanced up to see Shampoo leaping through the air to tackle him... and the diary slipped from his fingers.
Shampoo landed on top of him knocking the breath out of his body in the process. Her eyes scanned the area looking for her diary, before they opened in horror as she heard the splash. Ignoring her intended victims for now she dove into the water. It wouldn't mean anything if she killed them and the boy turned out to not be bluffing. It was too big a risk. Her fingers closed around the diary and she raised it above her head triumphant!
The triumph didn't last long as a torrent of pain flooded across her mind. Shaking it off she opened the diary to check the damage... and saw that the ink was smearing and mixing with the water of the canal.
A typhoon swept within her head. Panicking now she stumbled out of the water, dazed, confused, and in increasingly desperate need of a painkiller. Stumbling drunkenly she squeezed her scroll, water and ink pouring onto the ground, only to nearly drop it as a wave of nausea assaulted her. Colors became sounds and her teeth seemed to vibrate in her skull. Visions of melting buildings and faces spread through her mind, names and locations washing away like the ink in her scroll. Convulsing, she nearly vomited as her entire mind momentarily spun out of control, the distinctions within her brain blurring and flowing together, her entire world loosing coherence.
As she walked through the street images flashed through her mind that seemed familiar, yet she could not quite place them. A lifetime of intense training went by that felt like it happened to someone else. A boy wearing glasses pestering her unceasingly. A quick look around told her that this was not the same place as the now unfamiliar images. Why was she here instead of there? Panic rose again as she couldn't remember. It rose yet higher when she couldn't answer another question immediately: What was her name? Who was she?
"NO!" she screamed, punching the air as though it had been mocking her. "I will not be beaten by this!" Another tsunami of pain fell upon her and she almost fell to the ground sobbing from it. She rose to her feet again, shaky but determined. She looked at the item clutched so carefully in her hand. The scroll... it was connected to this somehow. An image of an impossibly huge figure - claiming to be a god and with that size and power she could believe it - flashed by her then. He'd asked her to take part in a game of some kind. But what kind of game was this?
That didn't matter. Leaning against a wall for support, she breathed heavily and clutched at her head. "Name... Is... Shampoo! Shampoo of Joketsuzoku! Shampoo will not be defeated like this!"
And then she stood under her own power while fighting back the pain. Each sloughing step felt heavier than the last and her mind ached in confusion as water continued to soak deeper into her diary. She needed help as an image flashed through her mind, that of an old woman. She could help, she always made things better. Shampoo would not rest until her memory was whole again, and then she disappeared into the night.
"You should've killed her you know. This way she'll just get involved in the game again."
"Yes, I know. In the actual game everything shall be a matter of life and death. It is too important for it to be anything else."
"So... why not do that here?"
"This is an experiment. I wish to see how these people will react so that I may make my ultimate choice all the better."
Not for the first time Deus' assistant wondered if he was really a devil claiming to be a God.
Later that night at Doctor Tofu's waiting room Soun was pacing up and down the hallway with an intensity that threatened to wear a trough in the floor. Nabiki was lounging on the chairs inspecting her nails, while Kasumi was not present. She'd been tactfully requested to remain at home. The given reason was one of preparation for Akane's injury, but of course the real reason was that they didn't need the good Doctor accidentally making things worse.
"Daddy, sit down. Pacing like that won't help Akane," Nabiki said.
"Perhaps not, but it keeps me from thinking too much about this," he began to weep. "Who could do this to my daughter?"
Just then Doctor Tofu entered the waiting room. Around him hung an air of concern and guilt and at first both of them feared the reason.
"So how is she, Doctor?" Soun pleaded through a wall of tears.
"She'll be okay Mister Tendo. I wouldn't want her to use that arm for anything for a while. She's going to have to lay off training for a bit. She wasn't too happy about that."
"Did she say what happened to her?" Nabiki enquired frostily.
"Akane says that Shampoo attacked her. She says she doesn't know why."
Ah, that made a bit more sense. He'd taken Shampoo in and felt betrayed that she would attack one of his patients. Still, Nabiki realized it was strange. Why would she attack Akane like this when they were so friendly earlier? Another thought occurred then and her eyes narrowed. "But you get the feeling that she's not telling the truth, right?"
"I didn't say that Nabiki."
"You didn't have to."
Meanwhile, in her room Akane looked down at her arm and fumed. She'd thought she might have an edge over the other diary holders by way of martial arts skill. Who could have known Shampoo of all people would've had a diary? And she was still out there it seemed. Nobody knew where she was now.
All that meant was she was biding her time, waiting to strike again like a snake. If she did appear now the police couldn't stop her. And on top of that, there were other diary holders out there just waiting to see one of the others slip up.
There was only really one chance now; Akane had to play human chess again. And tomorrow she'd get the chance... provided they both lived long enough.
Hikaru Gosunkugi hobbled back inside. He'd been lucky that Shampoo had been more concerned about getting her diary back than with him all she'd done was knock the breath out of him. His torso - that is, his entire torso - was still very tender, but he would live.
"So just whatever were you doing running outside like that Hikaru? That's so unlike you!"
He winced a little at his mother's question, unsure of how to answer. Eventually he settled on, "Being a hero, mother. Sorry, won't do it again...."
With that, he returned to his photo album and sighed. The sight of his angel safe and alive - if injured - soothed his thoughts and his own pain.
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(Posted Mon, 25 Jan 2010 22:06)
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