[Episode 233878] [Episode 233878]
“Actually,” said Ranma, eyeing the remains of the earlier carnage. “I think I’d like to grab Hiroshi and Daisuke now, so I can take them somewhere so that all this can be undone.”
“Undone?” Setsuna asked curiously as she eyed Ranma with a scrutinizing gaze. “What do you mean, ‘undone’?”
“Oh!” Kasumi piped up. “Maybe Ranma means he wishes to undo the awful damage and pain he’s caused their spines—the sort mom has done to father on many occasion.”
At his eldest daughter’s comment, Soun sighed. At least his head going up his own rectum had never been caught on camera.
“......Yeah, we’ll go with that,” Ranma muttered. After all, he didn’t want the girls to panic, thinking that everything they knew to be the honest to kami truth concerning reality was about to be erased from existence.
Well, except the fathers. He’d leave that intact. Maybe it would be a good lesson for them—not that he was feeling vengeful or anything...
Speaking of the truth, it seemed that Akane still had trouble seeing certain aspects of it.
“Oh please!” Motoko snorted. “Just because you’re the Primary Battler doesn’t mean you’re the best. Ranma’s just seeing to it you have a chance TO battle, seeing as you’re easily the weakest.”
The Tsundere glared at the Ronin. “NUH-UH!” Akane shouted back. “Ranma chose me because I’m, the best!” The youngest Tendo seemed to puff up with pride. “He knows I’ve got powers and strength unseen in the rest of you. I’m going to kick ass and take names!”
“AKANE!” Kimiko chided.
The young Tsundere twitched. “Sorry... I mean I’m going to ‘rush my foot into their tushie’ and take names.”
Nodding her head firmly, the Nekomama replied, "Better.”
Shaking his head good naturedly, the pigtailed martial artist made his way towards the two idiots whom were missing their clothing and bodies bruised all over, ignoring the fact they were twitching nude piles of broken human and cracked his knuckles. Surely, he could get them to see the error of their ways and give him back what was rightfully his...
Or if not, well... violence could be very therapeutic.
May I take this moment to remind you that if they die, they will be unable to restore the complete Great Will to you.
Ranma smiled. He’d take that challenge.
However, just as the pigtailed youth was about to go forward and bring much needed pain, suffering and true justice upon their sorry heads—and ironically their asses—the heir of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts was brought to a halt as a microphone was shoved into his face.
“Mr. Saotome!” cried out a feline pokégirl. “Cherry Pearl, WWPNN!”
Ranma just blinked.
It is short for World Wide Pokegirl News Network.
”Kinda long for a station,” the pigtailed Pokégirl Trainer thought curiously.
Perhaps you should worry less about initials and listen to her prattle on with questions.
“Saotome-san,” Ms. Pearl spoke up, her feline tail swishing behind her as her ears stood perked up. “How do you feel having chosen not only a Primary Battler from this event but also your Pursuit/Combatant on top of that?”
“Well...” he started.
Elegant.
“Shut up!” Ranma thought in annoyance. He then turned to the woman with a smile and replied, “That was the whole point of this exercise.”
Cherry blinked her eyes once, twice. “So... you mean you arranged for Tatewaki Kuno to show up here to be the main target for a pokégirl free-for-all?”
That comment made the youth pause. He couldn’t lie to save his life... okay he could but he needed to make it so it could easily sound logically like the truth. Such as when his life went to hell and he blamed the damned Panda. He might not have known if his Pops had a hand or not but it was still very likely.
“I had intended for A challenger to come... I didn’t expect a whole media circus and gay pride parade...” his shoulders slumped as he let off an exaggerated sigh.
The Catgirl furrowed her eyebrows in interest. “So the assault was pre-planned? May I ask with whom?”
“...Can’t say,” he finally replied. “I was told a challenger would arrive to help me determine how to fill my final slots.”
The Catgirl nodded her head in acceptance. “And what are your plans now?”
“Well... probably grab you and dart to the side, because the True Blunder is about to attack me from behind you.”
She turned about suddenly, pausing when she saw the young man still unconscious and hanging over a fence. “Saotome-san, I do not see how an unconscious opponent could—”
*FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAP*!
Her hair blown back, the news-anchor pokégirl twitched... a lot. Mostly because being caught directly in the path of his fart, she found herself covered in a rather foreign liquid. True, it was a mixture of body butter and body oil that was deposited between his ass-cheeks, but with its current consistency...
“And there we have it...” Ms. Cherry Pearl stated in a very monotone manner. “Young Tatewaki Kuno is indeed the “uke” in male relationships and has his fudge packed...”
The pigtailed martial artist nodded his head, not bothering to correct her. He had to admit, it was impressive how she held her demeanor and kept her voice steady despite being covered in material that made her look like she just stepped off the set of a porn.
Very professional.
This is Cherry Pearl, about to go take a long, hot shower, scrub my fur off and drink until these brain cells die, saying back to you in the studio, and you guys owe me big time for this!”
Watching the pokégirl walk off, demanding a towel from one of the Cameragirls, Ranma tried to get over to the two males that deserved a most righteous beat-down.
Try being the operative word.
“Hello, Saotome-san,” the human woman in yellow jacket shouted cheerfully. “I’m Makiko Hirasei of Eye on Tokyo, News 35! Now that it’s known you have enough pokégirls for basic battles, do you plan to hit the Television Show or the Gym circuit first?”
Eye twitching as his revenge was put on hold yet again—and this reporter was smart enough to not stand between him and Kuno—Ranma was somewhat relieved that he was about to speak the truth. “Well, not yet. I mean, I should get to know my team, help them get trained up. I mean, what sort of moron takes out an untested team of untrained individuals right away?”
Across the globe, several hundred thousand tamers sneezed, followed by a dead silence. Ryoga tried to whistle innocently as Naruto looked both relieved and embarrassed. Obviously, Uzumaki had been thinking such but hadn’t gotten a chance yet.
“...Wow... what innovative thinking...” the human reporter whispered in shock and awe, as if Ranma were the first person to ever think of such.
Odds were, in this retcon of reality, he likely was.
“Oh my,” Kasumi whispered, her face flushed at thoughts of ‘getting to know’ her Trainer and what possible ‘training’ he would put them through.
THUMP*!
So lost in naughty daydreams, her father—who she had been directing inside so he could try and... fix his posture—waddled into the wall and fell over.
“Ow... my head...” the Tendo Patriarch wailed. “Dear Kami-sama, I’m seeing more colors than when I tasted Akane’s first attempt at cooking!”
“HEY!” the youngest Tendo snapped towards her downed father. “How was I to know I picked up the rat poison rather than the rock salt?”
Leaning over her sister’s shoulder, Nabiki whispered, “Maybe by the large skull and crossbones warning label that was on the front of the box?”
Blushing at the Cheshire’s words, the young pokégirl could only mumble, “...I thought that meant it was made by pirates...”
Still, the newswoman continued her interview. “Did any training or teachings lead to this incredible idea?” the reporter asked, leaning in closely. He was smart, famous, and rich—without insanity, odd fetishes and even better, was definitely straight.
And the blush he got when he caught sight of her cleavage about ready to spill out of its too-tight confines didn’t hurt either. Hell, if he was cherry, he was still probably better than any of the guys in management back at the station. Even a one-night-stand would boost her career.
Turning his head away from Naruto whom was suddenly demanding to know who mentioned pirates—what was with pirates and ninjas anyway—the pigtailed martial artists did his best to not look down the woman’s blazer as he answered, “Well, it seems only natural. I’m a martial artist. Do you think I’d take on any opponent with a new technique after just learning it? No! You gotta train with it, get a feel for it until finally it becomes second nature. You don’t want something blowing up in your face or... um...”
He winced. Damn it! He was looking down her blazer again!
“So, can you give us a little... taste of what your training for them will be like?” she asked, licking her lips.
“Where are those damned pirates!?” Naruto cried out in exasperation, searching about. “Do you see any, Hinata?”
The Eva shook her head. “N-n-no, N-Naruto-kun. B-but I think we j-just lost Ryoga-san again...”
Rolling his eyes, Ranma did his best to suppress a groan. “Man, I need new friends,” he thought in annoyance. “For now, I’ll just have them concentrate on the basics until I figure out where they need work. Then I can create a regiment to help them grow stronger.” Damn, he could make out the ‘bumps’ on her blouse... it wasn’t that cold, was it?
Makiko smiled as innocently as she could—her grin still coming out wider than a Sharkfin pokégirl’s—as she said, “Maybe your friends at Eye on Tokyo, News 35 can make a special segment on our show for you, watching your every move and step in training; it’ll be like you’re a reality TV star.”
Ranma stared at the woman. He was about to open his mouth and ask what that meant when he received a reprieve from an unexpected source...
“RANCHAAAAAN! YOU HAVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!!”
Granted, not something he wanted but it would do. “Um... I’ll get back to you on that,” the pigtailed martial artist replied, the ‘if I’m alive after the next ten minutes’ remained unsaid.
Stomping hard enough that the pavement was sporting cracks, Ukyo strode over to him, fire in her eyes, her traditional baker’s peel in her hands, and an aura of fire surrounding her.
Although he was terrified of what was coming, Ranma actually paused at the sight that before him and not just because she was on fire. He looked his fiancée over curiously. “Hey, Ucchan? Are you all right?”
The woman blinked her one good eye. “Do I LOOK like I’m all right, Ranchan!?”
“Well, no... I mean, I understand you’re mad but what's with the eye-patch?” he asked with genuine concern.
The Okonomiyaki Chef clad in chef’s uniform, bandoleer of spatulas and a black eye-patch sighed, her aura of righteous womanly anger fading. It was so hard to stay mad at the idiot sometimes. “I was on my way here when I ended up getting hit in the face from this Bunnygirl with an odango-like hair-style. She was flailing her arms as she ran to be somewhere on time. Some blonde guy from the building she ran out of—local arcade I think—felt bad for my growing bruise and gave me some ice. He told me to put this over my eye for now and—”
“PIRAAAAATE!” Naruto roared as he tackled Miss Kuonji to the ground.
“...Wow,” Makiko muttered, making sure that they were getting this. If this didn’t help their ratings, nothing would.
“I’m not a pirate!”
“Can’t fool me, pirate! I see the patch!”
Now, Ranma had a choice. He could stop the fight, diverting attention back to himself or he could do nothing, and let Ukyo work out her rage on Naruto.
...
......
Well, Naruto needed the training experience...
Eyes slowly moving, he turned towards the spots his original targets had been... only to discover them gone! Instead, there were two women: blonde haired, blue-eyed, white-winged women. They were both garbed in white and had red crosses on their torsos; both for a religious as well as medical reasoning.
“Well, our work is done...” the first Angel said as she clapped her hands. “We’ve stabilized the two and teleported them to the Hospital.”
“Indeed, it is wonderful doing our part,” smiled the Angel. “Now we should send that young Kuno boy to the emergency room next so he can—”
Suddenly there was a dual-ringing. Both Angels looked at their watches and smiled. “What do you know? Quitting time!” she smirked at the other blonde. “So, leave the schmuck here?” she asked in a very un-Celestial way.
“Damn right!” said the other Angel in an even more un-Celestial tone of voice. “Fucker can rot there for all I care!”
The first Angel smirked. “Death to the heathens?”
Nodding her head in agreement, the other Angel replied, “Death to the heathens. Now let’s grab a beer! It’s Miller Time!”
“Amen!” Both said at once.
Ranma just twitched. What sort of insane world did those two idiots create?
Shall I explain?
Shaking his head, the pigtailed teenager thought, “Nah, I don’t think I could take the shock right now...”
“Come along, Master Kuno,” Sasuke stated, having arrived to try and retrieve his fallen boss. “You know you need to be ready for that part-time job your father made you get after spending half your trust on plans to defeat Saotome.”
Ranma would have smirked at the idea of Tatewaki Kuno being forced to work... had irony not struck again as he realized Sasuke was carrying said job’s uniform: Hello Kitty Candy Factory: Fudge Division.
As if sensing the turmoil in her new owner’s soul, the green-tressed Megami offered him her bottle of hooch. “Need a drink?” she asked meaningfully.
Reaching over, Ranma grasped the bottle with numb fingers. He reared his head back, drinking the contents.
All three drops.
As he glared at Meiou-san, the Celestial pokégirl shrugged her shoulders. “I needed it more than you.”
The news-anchor smiled as a thought hit her; an excuse to get her interview continued. “Oh, excuse me...” the woman spoke up. “Saotome-san, if you want, we can continue this interview somewhere with refreshment. It would be on News 35’s tab, of course. All you’d have to do is... continue our current discussion?”
Looking back and forth between Setsuna and Makiko a couple of times, Ranma finally shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.” After all, some free food couldn’t hurt after the day he was having.
Sitting down at one end of a booth at a bar and grill that he was being treated to, Ranma was glad to have a chance to get away from the dojo and think... okay, more like stuff his face as all the other diners stared in his direction in awe, amazement and some with either jealousy or longing...
But hey! That Miss Hirasei was keeping her word! She was paying and in return he had to let her sit next to him for an ‘exclusive interview’... although he did wonder why the interview was reason enough for her to wear a dress that at times seemed to have less fabric than some of his girl-form’s swimsuits. Maybe it was something about reporters he didn’t understand...
Turning her head to the left so she could get the youth into view with herself in front of the camera, the street reporter of Eye on Tokyo, News 35 calmly asked, "So, Saotome-san..." again, she was positioning herself to try and accentuate her curves to the young man. "It is known that you still have two open slots... do you have any intention of filling them up right away or not? And when you do, will it be in a contest format like this last one where the girls got to attack Tatewaki Kuno?”
“I ... uh ... haven’t really decided yet,” he admitted. “Right now, I guess I kinda lucked into a pretty good team so far.” A serious expression came over the face of the heir of the Saotome School of Martial Arts. “So before I add any others, I gotta focus on making sure the girls I have right now can work together first: get their levels up. After that, I guess I’ll see what’s missing and go from there. Ain’t really got a long-term plan at the moment aside from that.”
Makiko tilted her head. “No long-term plans yet? Does that include possible romantic aspects?”
Numerous unattached pokégirls leaned in curiously or at least raised an ear if such were a possible bodily function for them.
Ranma gulped loudly, eyes darting about in a microsecond, a trait from his last life, scouting about for hidden fiancées, fathers, rivals, and mothers. Seeing nothing, the next fraction of time was spent feeling for any killing intent, any hints that someone was out to get him...
Still... nothing...
Maybe... just maybe... he could give an answer and not be on the receiving end of an instrument of blunt trauma.
Placing the large, half-eaten burger down, the pigtailed martial artist looked towards the human woman. “Look, as far as I can tell you, I ain’t likely going to have much time for dating and whatnot. Let’s face it. I’ve got a team of pokégirls that need me right now and when it comes to room for much else, there’s nothing. Any ‘dates’ I go on are likely going to be training trips with my team of girls.”
The surrounding pokégirls felt a mixture of happiness that their sisters had such a great Trainer and jealousy that they weren’t in his team. A few also decided it was time to ‘innocently’ drop some hints that they wouldn’t mind joining him.
The female reporter however was thinking just as quickly as Ranma had been moments earlier. A relationship would be a hard sell—it usually was since men could just get a pokégirl for companionship if not outright sex. But if she could make herself part of his life, even get invited to document these training sessions...
After all, what would novices pay for proven method to empower their harems? That footage, sold to a distributor, could be a small fortune. So, perhaps, it was time to make her next plan, spying between her napkin and eating utensils, wondering which to drop to make a... good impression.
*Clatter-clitter-clang*!
“Oh, excuse me, Saotome-san. It seems I’ve dropped my for—”
“I’ll get it,” Ranma said as he dropped out of his seat, anxious to get away from the sight of her cleavage: it was wearing down on him. Kneeling down, he grasped for the woman’s cutlery and told her, “All right, here’s... your... fork...” he trailed off as he lifted his head, to see that with her legs positioned as they were, he was looking right up her skirt. He could only stare, seeing before him that her dress had been pushed up around her waist, and he couldn’t tell if her hair color was natural, as she was missing both that she wasn’t wearing and underwear—which would probably upset the Old Letch somehow—but that there was no hair there as well.
And something was... shining... almost like a lighthouse, drawing his eye. A heavy scent hit him, a scent he couldn’t quite place, making him desire more of it. Then he felt her gentle hands reach for his head... and pull him closer to the lighthouse.
“Perhaps, Saotome-san would be willing to work with Eye on Tokyo, News 35—at least initially?” the Newswoman offered. “Surely someone as knowledgeable about pokégirls, whom has such intimate knowledge, would be more than willing to give Trainers who do not have the benefits of your upbringing the important knowledge they lack?” she gave her hips a little wiggle.
Ranma’s gaze followed her wiggle, a mockery of shaking his head yes, as she pulled him closer. The smell intensified, as he came close enough that the low light under the table revealed the lighthouse had been a small piercing, a ring with a small pearl on it, fastened to her...
His eyes went wide. Far from stupid, he could identify what had been pierced. But like most accidents, he couldn't look away, being drawn closer like the moth to the proverbial flame.
And then his nose bunched into the ring, his mouth scant millimeters from her privates. And on instinct—whether male or Neko-Ken, he had no idea—he licked.
To her credit, the human woman suppressed a shiver. She simply talked as if nothing were going on underneath the table. “It’s so generous of you to want to do such for others. We really will need to get started sometime. When do you think the training of your girls will begin and when may my crew and I come over for initial filming?”
Ranma was barely paying attention, his attention diverted to continuing to acquire the nice taste, his tongue digging as deeply as it could to get the sweet honey from her pot.
“Here is his current schedule.”
The reporter’s eyes went wide, finding that a third person had joined their table, with long green hair, ruby eyes, and a smile that said both predator and innocent, a dangerous combo. She instantly recognized the pokégirl as Setsuna. “I do have to give you credit. Most projections had it taking days at best, weeks at worst, to get him comfortable doing such things. Ranma is incredibly shy.”
“Shy?” Makiko asked. “You mean he’s shy dealing with cameras and doing possible television programs, right?” she asked, trying to keep the ruse up... not that she was fooling anyone in the restaurant but she was pretty sure it could fool the television audience once they did some proper editing.
“That...” the Megami admitted. “And doing anything remotely sexual in nature.”
Makiko closed her eyes as if in deep thought. The reality was that Saotome’s technique—while not the best—was garnering a reaction from her, and she was doing her best not to moan out loud in public. The cameras would be sure to pick that up. Depending on editing, people wouldn’t notice Saotome’s prolonged absence.
But she didn’t put it past some people to be taking a video with a camera-phone, to be later posted on YouVision. And if so, then any asshole she might interview might decide they too were entitled to ‘sample her wares’.
Opening her eyes, Makiko stared at the Celestial pokégirl. “Would you put that down?”
Looking up from her camera phone, Setsuna grinned at the human woman. “No.”
Her grip tightening now on the table-cloth, the reporter glared at the pokégirl. “You want something?”
Raising one of her viridian eyebrows, the Meiou woman replied, “Do I?”
“You... you wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” Makiko nearly whispered, fighting off the trembling in her body the Trainer’s tongue was generating.
Setsuna looked up from her cell phone at Makiko with her crimson eyes. “Let’s just say I’d be a little annoyed at you if you were Ranma’s first. Kasumi did a lot for me to get me the freedom I could only dream of. If you deny my Alpha this... well, let’s just say I can be a hard-assed bitch like every other Megami or Angel out there...”
By now, Makiko was panting, sweating heavily, and not just from what was going on above the table. “Terms?” she asked, sending a signal to her Cameragirl to stop filming for the moment.
Needless to say, the film-savvy pokégirl didn’t stop. It was then that Makiko noticed said pokégirl was sweating herself and rubbing her legs together.
“Simple,” Setsuna replied. “One month. By then Ranma will have been able to properly Bond all of his Team to him and have us trained enough to where we at least won’t look like idiots in front of your station’s cameras.” She smirked. “And likely, Nabiki will want your producers to put in fifteen percent of any commercial revenue into her special bank account for the Tendo family concerns.”
Makiko nodded. That sounded reasonable. After all, she’d lose a lot of possible future revenue and scoops if it turned out Saotome couldn’t teach a pokégirl to breathe.
Of course, she’d be able to form more coherent responses if she wasn’t about to have one hell of an orgasm. Her mind was more focused on not screaming out than responding.
The green-tressed Megami continued to smile. “What you get is the exclusive rights to video tape our training trip, first battles, maybe even assigned as an imbedded correspondent.” Later on, Setsuna might drop the hint that on the training trip, the reporter had best make sure her birth control was up to date. It was hard to conduct an interview with morning sickness. And after the team got done training the Trainer, what Makiko was experiencing now would seem like nothing.
“C-can do.” Makiko winced, not liking how she stuttered there. She hoped the editing group would let her re-record a better line over that or at least cut off the crackle sound she made in her throat.
Setsuna smiled widely. “Excellent. I believe I do look forward to having you as a future business relation...” she smirked. “In the meantime, you might want to check out the young Uzumaki. I believe things are going to be getting interesting with him.” Standing up, she made her way to Makiko’s side, the woman now biting her lip. “And remember, his Alpha is to be the first pussy he pokes. But I’ll allow you some leeway. It would be a shame if the Alpha didn’t enjoy some things he could do. Just be sure his dick doesn’t paint your pussy white tonight.”
Makiko bit her lower lip. Damn! If she wasn’t about to scream out in orgasm, she would have glared at the Megami. Instead of feebly nodding her head...
“And that includes your pokégirl,” Setsuna added. “But thank you for showing me a good time. I must say you have exposed quite the sharp tongue.”
Makiko would have felt embarrassed by such a comment if it wasn’t for the fact she reached her limit. Turning her head to Setsuna and hiding her face from the screen, the reporter bit her lip hard enough to bleed, keeping in the scream as she felt pretty sure she had just creamed all over the man’s face.
Setsuna smiled. Good. Hopefully the News-reporter would do everything in her power to paint the youth in a positive light besides with an opaque white...
And who knew? If the reporter was smart enough to use the second out for herself, aside from oral sex, that the Megami had left for her to ‘bond’ with Ranma, so be it. It might get that stick out of there that many of her fellow journalists insisted was up there.
“Naruto-kun...” Hinata said slowly as she followed her Trainer, being careful to be submissive and stay behind him, even if he insisted he didn’t like when she did that. “Why are we here at the...” she looked up at the sign hanging from the left column of the tori entrance gates. “Oni no Kuni Temple?”
And furthermore, why would anyone want to worship demons?
“Eh, my old teacher said I should stop by here sometime,” Naruto responded, trying to appear as if he knew why Jiraiya had insisted he come here some time.
He just hoped it didn’t involve something similar to the last place that the Ero-Sennin had insisted he visit. That tattoo was still an embarrassment to him. Every time he showed it to Hinata, she passed out and had a nose bleed.
It had to mean that the tattoo was horrible and ugly. Why else would it be she fainted every time he pulled his pants down? It was certainly the last time he allowed the Ero-Sennin to take him drinking.
As they made it to the top of the stone staircase, the man that would become the Pokégirl Master took a deep breath. “Here we are, Hinata! Smell that fresh air!”
Looking over to her owner, the Eva politely brought up, “But... we’re still in the city... and we’re just two blocks from Numa no Kuni Temple where they specialize in Poison-types...”
“...” Naruto could only twitch.
“And the highway is not even four blocks from here,” the Eva continued.
“......Fine,” the young man finally replied.
Realizing what she’d done, Hinata blushed deeply. “I-I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Nah, it’s okay,” Naruto waved off. “But there is something about being at a temple that seems to make everything smell fresher.”
“That’s because,” a most elegant female voice spoke up. The two turned to see a tall woman with pale skin, black hair and pale violet eyes. The Yokosuji markings on her face denoted her as a Megami of considerable power. “I am Miroku, head Priestess of ‘The Land of Demons’. What brings you here to our humble temple?”
Naruto blinked his eyes once, twice. “What... what does that have to do with the air smelling fresher?” the blonde finally managed to ask once the awe of her presence finally subsided.
She smiled a mysterious little grin. “Celestial powers can do numerous things, young man...”
“...Oh...” He didn’t understand it, but nodded anyway.
“May I ask who you are?” the Megami asked.
Now the blonde in school banko uniform became attentive. “Oh, I’m Naruto Uzumaki! And this is my Alpha, Hinata!”
“...Uzumaki, you say?” Miroku responded, kneeling and looking over the teen’s face over, scrutinizing every feature. “I see,” she finally replied. “So it is that time at last.”
Blinking his eyes once, twice, the kyubi-whiskered kid asked, “Time?”
“I shall allow my father to tell you the story,” she answered, thinking that then she would be forced to give them the correct information. Her father tended to ramble and embellish, making it difficult for people to disagree.
When they found the elderly gentleman, he was tending to the Koi pond in the back, doing his best to feed the fish... or possibly suffocate them as he tossed in whole loaves of bread.
Miroku sighed. It looked like he’d raided the pantry again. “Oh, father. We have some visitors here that wish to hear the history of our temple!”
The old man didn’t turn from his bread tossing. “Are they hot, young women, wishing to join into the service of our temple?”
The Megami shook her head. “No, Father.”
“Not fatties, are they? Some cushion is fine, but after a certain point—”
“Father, it is Naruto Uzumaki, the promised child,” Miroku stated firmly.
“...Promised child? So, I must dig up that damned talking sword...” the old man grumbled.
“...Not that promised child, Father.” That’s was it, she was cutting the alcohol budget!
“Oh...” the old priest said slowly. “OH!!” he walked over to the young boy and looked him up and down. “Let’s see...” he frowned a moment as he looked back at his daughter. “Are you sure he’s not here concerning one of the swords? He’s all blue-eyed and blonde haired!”
Taking a look at either side of the youth’s head, he mumbled in relenting fashion, “Then again, there aren’t any pointy ears...” taking a deep breath, he told the youth, “Ah, I know who you are, young man. Hold out your hand.”
Blinking his eyes once, twice, Naruto did as told. He then watched as the old priest brought his hand up and dropped a few small things into it. As the hand was removed, the priest told him, “You will need these to beat the turtle...”
Staring at his palm, the young man asked, “A flower, a glittery star sticker, and two mushrooms?”
“Red and Green Mushrooms! Trust me, only use the green when all looks lost and you are about to die...” he said in dire warning.
“Not that promised child either, Father.” Seriously, maybe she needed to put him in a home. Oh, if only her husband hadn’t died under mysterious circumstances after she caught him doing the unforgivable...
Watching One Piece.
“Well, then, which promised child is he?” her father grumbled. “Heaven knows how many we get through here. Why, last week, I had to assist a promised child form a group of vigilantes named the Teen Titties.”
“Titans, Father.”
“...Really? Titan’s Titties?”
The Megami twitched. “...He’s Minato's son, you old letch.”
The head priest blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. “...Who?”
“You know... the promise to take one of your granddaughters into his team, unite the families, maybe carry on for you once you’ve suffered a horribly painful accident.”
Naruto just twitched. Yep, this sounded like a place Ero-Sennin would send him. The guy was just like him, except more obvious of being a pervert and a few kunai short of a pouch.
“OH!” The old man shouted. “The one that was the fourth Principle of Konha Gakuen? The one that was also banging Rin, right?” he chuckled. “Damn she was a hot piece of ass.”
Miroku twitched. “Actually, he married to Kushina...”
“Didn’t mean he wasn’t tapping that hot little piece of medic nin ass on the side...” he turned back to Naruto, snatching the items from his hand. “And give me those!” He snorted. “Should’ve known you weren’t that chosen one. You’re wearing neither red nor green?”
“...Naruto-kun? I’m sc-scared...” the young Eva whimpered her admittance. This old man reminded her too much of her own grandfather during his last days.
Naruto nodded, stepping in front of the Eva—both to shield her and if need be, know where she was to grab her and run.
“So... you’re here to take one of my precious grandchildren from me?” the man asked, glaring at Naruto. “Do you know how many of their cute friends will stop coming here with them if you—OW!”
The Megami hid an object that looked like a rolling pin behind her back, coughing into her other hand. “Father, may I remind you that you promised Minato such, as long as that when the Training journey was close to finished—or you were horribly maimed in a freak laundry accident—that they would return, his son helping create the next generation of Shrine Priestesses.”
The old man looked to his daughter disbelievingly. “...Are you sure? Because that doesn’t sound like me...”
The Celestial pokéwoman sighed. “Must I get the videotape?”
“Which one?”
“...Go back to feeding the fish, Father. I will take care of this.”
“...Okay!” the priest replied as he turned about, humming a happy little ditty as he continued to toss full loaves of bread into the water.
Looking over at the waste of good bread, Naruto winced. “Damn it, why is he wasting ones filled with bean paste?” his stomach growled, reminding the youth of how hungry he was.
“Come,” Miroku stated. “I shall prepare you a meal and call in my child and niece from the Hikawa Shrine, so that I need but tell this story only once.”
“B-but what about him?” asked Hinata.
The Megami looked over at the old man for a moment. “Believe it or not, I simply don’t care anymore. I don’t know if he’s faking it or not, but with any luck, a Widow will show up, consume him, and die, leaving us his life insurance policy and the reward for its carcass.”
“...Wow,” Naruto replied. “That’s harsh.”
The pokéwoman shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I live with the man.” She shook her head. “Still not sure how he got anyone to want to breed with him,” Miroku grumbled, turning and heading towards the house.
Naruto didn’t know the answer to that either but chose not to voice his opinion at this moment. He was going to get a FREE MEAL!
Thus, so engrossed by getting a free meal—and Megami weren’t known for anything less than 5-Star cooking—he missed it when turning, she flicked her wrist, sending the rolling pin flying, to...
*CRACK*!
“AIIIIEEE!”
*SPLASH*!
And the priest fell into the koi pond.
“Oh, perhaps Father may join us if he is trying to sober up.”
Hinata just gulped. She hoped the supposed pokégirl her owner was picking up wasn’t that violent.
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(Posted Thu, 27 May 2010 16:20)
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