Ranma was speaking with an old professor of his, when he felt the unique vibrations as space and time rippled in an almost inperceptible fashion around him. He immediately made a twisting motion with one hand, and watched as a bright blue strand of... well, "stuff"... hooked around his finger. Rather than beating out his heartbeat as it should be, it was dissolving around the edges and pulsing irregularly - not a good sign.
"Look, something just came up - can I call you tomorrow?"
Urashima-sensei immediately broke off explaining the significance of the Mississippian artifacts he just catalogued.
"Uh... sure. Are you all right?"
Ranma's face twisted into a half-grin, half-grimace.
"Yeah, yeah - I think so. Later?"
"All right, all ri-"
Hanging up the phone, Ranma swiveled around in his wheelchair, grimacing as he ran over a book he'd knocked off the table just a moment ago. Another month or two and he was sure he'd be able to restore his missing leg, at least. The eye was a much worse problem, and the scars that were left were far from pretty... especially the ones across his throat, ruining his voice for much above a conversation.
Still, his life was worth living, and he'd be damned if he'd let someone erase him from existance!
Holding out both hands as if he were gripping a large ball, he gripped his fingers inward and twisted them outward. Seeing the brightly glowing blue, green, and violet strands now running from finger to finger, and from his hands outward in every direction, he pinched two pairs and spun them together. Working his fingers with the ease of long practice, he played a game of cat's cradle with threads of energy and then suddenly pulled his hands apart, letting the strings collapse into a mote of fluctuating light, which then burst foreward into the center of the room and exploded into a crackling cloud of smoke, which then started coughing.
Or rather, who was in the smoke started coughing.
Ranma waited for the smoke to clear away from the bewildered figure, and then spoke, his rasping voice, even more than the biting sardonic tone, startling his unexpected "guest".
"Well, well... what have I done to warrant the malice of Sailor Pluto? So much so that I catch her going back in time to kill me off before I was born?"
Inwardly, though, he was suprised - not just at the identity of his... well, assailant, for the lack of a better word, but by her actual appearance. That formation was supposed to connect a String to whoever was trying to attack, letting him try to block their efforts and scry their identity.
Dismissing that line of investigation for the moment - there'd be enough time to work on it tomorrow - he eyed the "Guardian of Time" with suspicion, his hands full with another handful of red-and-blue strings, ready as he'd ever be for a possible fight.
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(Posted Fri, 30 Jan 2004 05:58)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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