[Episode 236014] [Episode 236014]Akane quietly paced back and forth outside Nabiki’s bedroom. Pausing in front of the door, she lifted a hand to knock, hesitated, then dropped her hand and resumed her back-and-forth.
They’ve been lying to me all along, I know they have, they owe me some answers! Even if they’re doing something perverted right now, she fumed, her mind again going over all the little niggling details she had done her best to ignore: the way Ranma and Nabiki (Nabiki, of all people) had just clicked and become practically inseparable, the moments that “Ranko” had confused herself with Ranma. And then there was the showdown with “Uncle” Genma this morning (Akane’s lips curled back in a snarl for a moment) when Ranma’s mother had clearly referred to “Ranko” as Ranma — Just how long has Ranma been hanging around?
Unbidden, the memory she had managed to suppress from days before Ranma and his father had arrived out of the rain rose in her mind, of a naked Nabiki sprawled on her bed, one hand pumping a dildo up between her spread legs, the other hand massaging a breast and the other breast palpitating on its own!
Whirling, she reached for the door, but froze with her hand on the knob at the sound of someone running up the stairs and down the hallway toward the girls’ rooms. Turning and stepping to the side, the youngest Tendo gaped as “Auntie” Nodoka (she just couldn’t bring herself to refer to her as “Mother,” whatever Kasumi did, not yet) came barreling into the T-intersection, yanked open Nabiki’s door, and charged through.
“Nabiki, was that Ranma I just felt go through the wards?” she heard the older woman demand.
“I ... yes, we tried to ... Ranma couldn’t perform, and he didn’t take it well when I told him he probably wouldn’t ever be able to — he activated the curse and flew out,” Nabiki responded.
“I thought you weren’t going to explain that until I was present ... Nabiki, that’s a summoning circle, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m calling Ranma back.”
“No, you aren’t. Considering why Ranma flew out of here, summoning her back might be the worst thing you could do — make it even clearer that she isn’t human anymore, not entirely. Give her some time to herself to calm down.”
“But Nodo — Mother — Ranma’s out there alone, it’s getting dark and maybe dangerous for her, and she’s hurting so much ...”
“If Ranma’s not back by morning, then we can summon her. But you have a point about the possible danger,” Nodoka agreed in a thoughtful tone. “Normally, between Ranma’s nature as a nature spirit and her martial arts training I wouldn’t worry — now that she has her wings, what she couldn’t outfight she could probably outrun. But as distraught as you say she is ... do you know any sprites?”
“Sprites? ... Yes, Kasumi’s friend, Cherry Blossom,” a confused-sounding Nabiki replied.
“Cherry Blossom? Good, I know her as well. Let’s offer to summon her and ask her to find and keep an eye on Ranma for us.”
“But why a sprite?” Nabiki asked. “They aren’t exactly combat monsters.”
“ ... But they do have some sort of — not a group mind, they’re distinct individuals — an awareness of other sprites, they can pass messages to each other. So, Cherry Blossom can pass the word to the other sprites around here, and once they find Ranma they can let us know right away. That way we can keep an eye on Ranma without invading her privacy.”
For a moment no sound came from the bedroom, then Nabiki said uncertainly, “I guess that’ll work ... okay, let’s do it.”
Akane stared at her sister’s still-open door, her anger snuffed out, replaced by worry for the sensei she had reluctantly come to respect — some of the time, at least. That did not sound good, she thought, and stepped forward only to pause, the familiar queasy feeling at the thought of the supernatural filling her to mix with her concern. Yeah, and just what do you think you can do to help? It sounds like they’re doing what they can, leave them to it. She turned away and quietly slipped down the hall to her own bedroom. Anyway, they’re too busy to give you straight answers right now, you can ask them tomorrow, she thought as she pulled out some schoolbooks from her bag and set out to distract herself with her weekend homework assignments.
From her shelter on a grassy embankment underneath a bridge, Ranma stared out at the pouring rain, her arms pulling her legs against her oversized breasts and her wings curled around her for comfort. The rain wasn’t pounding down, but it was the kind of rain that can go on for hours and had emptied the park beside the bridge of what few people the arrival of night would have left. Now, the only signs of life were a few tiny nature spirits that had flown past her spot underneath the bridge several minutes ago — she could still see their distinct nature spirit lifeglows now aimlessly wandering around the park grounds, apparently unconcerned about the cool wet.
Not that Ranma would normally have had any more concern than they had, the first of the rain had passed harmlessly through her before she had taken shelter. And while she could sense the coolness of the night, delight in it even, she couldn’t really feel it. She idly thought that she wouldn’t have felt it if the rain was replaced by a raging blizzard.
No, her instinctive search for shelter, the way she was curled around herself, had nothing to do with the elements and everything to do with the turmoil roiling in her heart.
Not a man. Not a man. Not a man.... The thought continually echoed through her mind, disrupting and overriding every other thought that tried to form. Then, another thought struck her: If I’m not a man, what am I?
Her eyes left the wandering nature spirits still flitting about and lifted up to search the night sky for any hint of the moon and stars — a hopeless task, of course, her old and until recently only real friends were completely obscured by the clouds. Disheartened at her failure, she dropped her face down against her knees. A thing, that’s all. I’ve just been pretendin’ since Jusenkyo, good enough that I actually fooled myself — Nabiki and Mom, too. And Nabiki said I can’t act! Her bark of laughter was choked off by sobs, and tears ran down her cheeks and soaked her knees. Are they real tears, or as fake as the rest of me? The idle thought passed through her grief and was gone.
“You look like you could use this.” The female voice jerked Ranma’s head up. Beside her was a tall (at least compared to Ranma, but who wasn’t?), young blond woman with red elongated slashes tattoos on her forehead and another two red triangles on each cheek under her eyes. She was dressed in red leather, and in her outstretched hand was a handkerchief.
Without thinking Ranma reached out and took the handkerchief and wiped at her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said shakily, then froze — the cloth wasn’t alive, not a hint of life energy, no ki infusing it like Royga had with his thrown bandanas, and she was holding it! Her eyes shot back to the stranger and widened as she realized she wasn’t able to see through her clothing, either. And she was completely dry!
Forcing herself to relax, the naked red-haired nature spirit handed the cloth back, then nonchalantly rose to her feet on the grassy embankment and focused the senses she was still feeling out on the stranger that had intruded on her angstfest. Again, her eyes widened for a moment before she fought them back under control, because she sensed — nothing. Nothing at all, as if the person before her didn’t exist. But she had to, she’d handed her the handkerchief, the one Ranma had been able to touch!
But while Ranma couldn’t sense anything substantial, she was catching a hint of ... of something, almost familiar ... just an echo, but it made her feel like she needed a bath. Where had she sensed this before ... ? And then her mind flashed back to Dr. Tofu’s office, the manic doctor taking bites out of a plate brought by a despair-ridden Kasumi, and the dark, ugly, slimy aura linking the two.
Ranma found herself taking a step back and forced herself to stop. Casually clasping her hands behind her back, she bluntly asked, “Who are you? What are you?”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “And why do you think I’m anything but what I appear?”
“ ‘Cause ya handed me a piece a cloth I could touch; I can’t see through yer clothes; other than my eyes, I can’t tell yer even there; and ya stink.”
The woman stiffened for a moment, tattooed cheek twitching, then she relaxed muscle by muscle and pasted on a smile. “My name’s Mara, and I’m a demon,” she said cheerily.
“Yeah, I thought so. Good ta know what demons smell like. So what are ya doin’ here?”
Mara’s smile stiffened, just short of a snarl, and a deep indrawn breath hissed between her teeth. She paused for a long moment, exhaled, then finally said, “Why, I’m here to make you an offer, of course.”
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(Posted Mon, 02 Aug 2010 00:41)
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