[Ranma][Fanfic] Kasumi's Guest
Susan Doenime
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Kasumi's Guest
by Susan Doenime
Characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, who should be held blameless for
this.
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It was a quiet day in the Tendou home, which was how Kasumi
liked it. Of course, she also liked when it was noisy, when it
was a mix of the two, or when it was an acoustic nightmare that
would have made Pink Floyd gulp in disbelief. Kasumi was
notoriously easy to please. (1)
At this particular moment, she was absorbed in vacumning.
Kasumi vacumned the way some people defused nuclear bombs -
with very close attention to detail, total concentration and
focus, and a slight dread of what would happen if the job was
done incorrectly.
Granted, most nuclear bomb defusers didn't hum to
themselves with a blissful smile, but apart from that it's a
first rate analogy.
Hum. Whoosh-whoosh. Hum. Whoosh-whoosh. Hum.
Dirt, grime, and debris had strong allies in Ranma, Akane, and
Ryouga. Against Kasumi, it didn't make much difference.
Hum. Whoosh-whoosh. Hum. Whoosh-whoosh. Ding-dong.
Kasumi blinked. That wasn't a normal sound.
Slowly, laboriously, the word "Doorbell" pushed it's way
through the whoosh-whoosh thoughts Kasumi was locked in.
She smiled. Guests! Turning off the walkman, (2) she made her
way to the front door.
~$~
(1) - What else would you expect from a woman who's
deliriously happy about the prospect of doing menial housework
in the best years of her life?
(2) - Despite certain speculations recently aired on the FFML,
she was listening to Enya, not Chicago or Master of Puppets.
Kasumi wasn't very fond of heavy metal, and had a nagging
suspicion that the so-called vocals were actually cats being
dipped in boiling wax.
~$~
It turned out to be only one guest, a nice young man in a
business suit. Very nice and tidy, she thought. Clean hair, pocket
handkerchief neatly folded, not a bit of lint, and the bulge under
his jacket was symmetrical.
"Good morning!", she said brightly.
"Good morning," he politely responded. "Is Tendou Nabiki in?"
"No, but she'll be back in a hour or two. Are you a friend of
hers?"
"No, I've come to kill her."
"Oh my!" Kasumi was taken slightly aback. (3)
"I'll just find a bush to crouch in," the nice young man said.
"Sorry to bother you."
Kasumi had been a bit confused, but was now back in familiar
territory. "Oh dear, no. You'll get your suit dirty. Won't you come
in?"
This time it was the man's turn to be taken aback. "Are you
sure? I don't want to intrude...."
This was more like it, thought Kasumi. "Please, come in. Would
you like some tea?"
"Oh, yes, tea would be nice."
"Lapsang, Varaiyah, or Pekoe?"
"Pekoe, please."
"Do you take sugar?"
"No, thank you."
She ushered him inside, apologizing for the mess.
~$~
(3) - It is worth noting that the infamous "Akane Haircut"
episode provoked a far greater response than the announcement
that Nabiki was marked for death by a man talking to her.
Kasumi had a rather unique priority system.
~$~
Kasumi knew her duties as a host. The nice young man (who
had introduced himself as Mr. Koumeya) had been seated across
from her, provided with tea, and made comfortable. The next
step was to make conversation.
"So, you're here to kill Nabiki?"
"Oh yes. It shouldn't take too terribly long, I expect."
"That's good, I suppose." Actually she wasn't sure it was, but
it sounded the correct thing to say. "Are you upset at her,
then?"
Mr. Koumeya chuckled. "Oh no, of course not. It's orders,
nothing personal. Extortion, you see."
Kasumi didn't. (4) "You mean someone was extorting money
from her, and she wouldn't pay?"
"No, she was extorting money from the boss's son. It's a bit of
an embarrassment, really."
Kasumi looked mortified. "Oh dear. I'll have to speak to her
about that. She has these rather funny notions, sometimes."
"Apparently she has pictures of the son, a cheerleader, a
walrus, and seven eggplants."
"Oh, a still life?"
"No, they were all very much in motion at the time."
"Nabiki is very fond of photography. She did the most adorable
family photo once..."
She walked over to the mantle, found the picture, and showed
it to him. He made the appropriate interested noises, and asked
after the identity of the others in the photo.
"That's daddy, there...and that's me..."
"You look very nice. I like the dress."
"Thank you! Oh, and that's Akane, and her fiancee Ranma..."
"What, the girl with the red hair?"
"Yes. Isn't that a nice dress she has on?"
"Oh yes. I like the blue ruffles," he paused, obviously a bit
curious. "So Akane...um, likes girls?"
Kasumi giggled. "You mean is she a lesbian?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Yes, I suppose that's what I meant."
"I think she probably is, actually. But her fiancee's a boy most
of the time. He's cursed, you see."
Kasumi was a stickler for telling the truth. (5) This had
become a rather difficult practice since Ranma had arrived;
people had a disconcerting habit of taking her to mental
hospitals after she explained Ranma's curse to them. While the
hospitals were clean and orderly, the people in them weren't,
and it sometimes took daddy a while to get her out.
To her pleasant surprise, the nice Mr. Koumeya didn't look
alarmed and make soothing noises at her, or ask her if she
sometimes heard voices telling her to kill people. Instead he
nodded, and made surprised noises as she related the Jyusenkyou
story.
After she finished, he cleared his throat rather hesitantly. "So
there are all kinds of pools?"
"Oh yes! For some reason, it seems that half the creatures in
existence drowned in Jyusenkyou."
"So why doesn't he just go back and dunk himself in Spring of
Drowned Boy?"
Kasumi thought for a bit. "I'm not sure. Then again, Ranma
does tend to miss the obvious."
~$~
(4) - Not that Kasumi failing to perceive things was anything
unusual. If you couldn't clean it, be polite to it, or cook it,
Kasumi didn't spend badly rationed mental energy on it.
(5) - This was partly because lying was Wrong, and mostly
because by the time it occurred to her to lie she had already told
the truth.
~$~
"More tea?"
"Yes, thank you. Do you think Nabiki will be home soon?"
"I would think so." Kasumi sighed. "We had such hopes for her,
too. She had her whole future ahead of her."
"She still does. It's just not a terribly long future."
Kasumi was beginning to feel a bit awkward again. "I don't
really think Nabiki wants to be shot, though."
Mr. Koumeya frowned. "I suppose I could stab or strangle her
instead, but the gun really is quicker and easier...."
This was a reversal of how things normally went. "No,"
Kasumi explained, "I mean I don't think she wants to die."
He patted her arm comfortingly. "Most major religions insist
that the afterlife is really a very pleasant place."
Kasumi was rapidly running out of arguments, and felt that
she was on the verge of being rude to her guest. Nevertheless,
she gamely gave one last try. "But won't it make a bit of a
mess?"
He blinked. "Oh dear. Yes, it might."
"Bloodstains are hard to get out. And if it stains the floor,
it'll cost quite a bit to redo."
A silence hung in the air for a second. Mr. Koumeya looked
puzzled. "I really couldn't make a mess of the floor. That would
be horribly impolite."
Kasumi started to smile, but changed it to a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry."(6)
His face suddenly lit up. "I know! Dropcloths!"
Kasumi felt a bit bewildered. "What?"
"We'll just put some dropcloths on the floor. That way, there
won't be much of a mess."
She warmed to the idea. "Oh, how clever! I have some garbage
bags that should do the trick." Her face went downcast again.
"Although it's still going to upset daddy to no end."
~$~
(6) - She wasn't actually very sorry, but polite nothings, she
felt, don't really count as lies.
~$~
Nabiki opened the door, and eyed the garbage bags covering the
entryway with curiosity. She looked up at Kasumi, who was
standing at the other end of the hall. "What's with the plastic,
Oneechan?"
Kasumi made a vague motion with her hands. "Well, there's a
man in the kitchen who says he's here to kill you, Nabiki-chan."
Nabiki started to laugh, and then remembered that Kasumi had
never really got the hang of jokes. "There's a what?"
Mr. Koumeya appeared from the living room.
Nabiki gave a strangled yelp, turned, and took about two steps
before being shot.
"Oh dear," said Kasumi regretfully.
Mr. Koumeya walked over, fired twice into the still-gurgling
Nabiki's skull, and gave Kasumi a sympathetic pat. "There, you
see? The bags caught most of the blood and bits."
Kasumi brightened at this. "So they did."
"Would you like me to help you clean up?" he asked helpfully.
Kasumi shook her head. "Oh no. You'd get blood and...what is
that stuff?"
"Grey matter."
"...grey matter all over your nice clean suit."
"Are you sure? It only seems fair..."
She clucked reprovingly. He nodded, and straightened his suit,
replacing the gun in the shoulder holster. "Well...I really must be
going. Thank you for the tea."
"Oh, no trouble at all!"
He walked to the door, stepping carefully over Nabiki, and the
turned. "I hope you won't think this too forward of me..."
"Yes?"
"I was wondering....um, would you care to have lunch? This
Wednesday?"
Kasumi pondered this for a second. He certainly seemed nice,
and very polite, and now that the whole Nabiki thing was over
the tension level should be much lower. She smiled. "I'd like
that.."
He smiled back. "Pick you up at eight?"
She nodded. He bowed, and made his way out the door.
Kasumi put her walkman back on, selected a Vivaldi tape, and
began to carefully move the soiled bags outside. As she wrapped
Nabiki, she idly wondered if she would have time to finish the
vacumning before dinner.
-=-=#=-=-
A couple of people and fics to thank.
Richard Lawson's "Heart of the Home" - This is, in many ways, a reaction
to "Heart". Our opinions of Kasumi are a bit different, as you've likely
noticed. ^_^
Mike Loader's "Smoke and Mirrors" - Another Kasumi fic, also one with a
different interpretation. Mike was kind enough to do pre-reading for me,
and helped quite a bit. Although he kept asking if I had studied under
Chris Willmore, whatever that means.
Jeff Rutsch's "Hold On" - This rocked. I think Jeff and I see eye to eye
on the Kasumi front. ^_^
Everyone who sent in comments regarding the fic, back when it was first
posted to the FFML. Thank you! Thank you! ^_^
And thanks to Kergma, who gave me an account and the FFML.
- Susan Doenime
Brisbane, U of Q
"I hit the streets / They watched me in the monitor..."