[Ranma][FanFic] Subterfuge
XmagicalX
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Takahashi-sama. Would
that we had her genius!
2nd Disclaimer: Some could argue the events and actions of
this story are out of character. As Obi-Wan Kenobi says,
these things depend greatly on our own point of view.
Subterfuge
A Ranma 1/2 story by
XmagicalX
Wednesday was a nerve-racking day for many at Furinkan High.
Every week a few students, two or three or more, would wake
at dawn in a cold sweat, stare at their alarm clocks and
wonder if they could afford to play hooky. They never did.
But they thought about it hard.
It wasn't just because Wednesday was Ms. Hinako's favorite
day for pop quizzes. It wasn't simply that Principal Kuno
tended to put his most unique new ideas for the school into
effect on Wednesdays. It wasn't even that Happosai planned
his best raids during the middle of the week in hope of
catching girls off guard, and hence the anti-hentai squads
were out in force and quite touchy on Wednesdays.
No, the true anxiety for those few was that Wednesday was
collection day.
Wednesday was also, not coincidentally, Nabiki Tendo's
favorite day.
She didn't know what she enjoyed more, the actual receiving
of the money, or the act of collection, prowling through the
halls and schoolyard, finding those who owed and requesting-
-never demanding; those truly in power never needed to
demand--that they pay. They always did. Sometimes
promptly, other times with a delay, which she would allow
only as long as it were reasonable. She never feared they
would refuse; one of her stipulations for taking a bet or
giving a loan was that she had sufficient blackmail material
to enforce it.
Not that Nabiki actually executed any of her threats--except
with Ranma, and he didn't count, being a relative of sorts
and a freeloader by any definition. To be honest, which she
was only with herself, she seriously doubted she could carry
out her worse intimidations, if the need ever arose. It
never did. People were convinced she was heartless enough
to do anything, and that served her purposes fine.
And she never denied that she liked seeing the touch of fear
in their eyes when they faced her empty-handed. Just doing
her part to bring a little excitement into their lives.
"What do you mean, you can't honor your wager?" she asked
quietly. "Daisuke asked the new transfer student out
yesterday, and was rejected. You're out of the pool. You
need to pay off your credit. Now you're saying you won't?"
The student before her twitched. "I...I didn't say--I just
need another couple days. Next week I'll have it. Promise.
Please, I'm working as much over-time as I can--"
"Okay." She waved dismissively. "Next week. But you better
have it. Everyone pays their debts." Which was fudging
things a bit; there were a couple she had extended credit to
indefinitely, knowing they really couldn't afford it, but
she had to protect those interests with complete secrecy
else risk total loss of control. "If you don't honor this
arrangement, no one else has any reason to, and the whole
system crumbles. You wouldn't want that, right?"
"Yes--I mean, no, Upperclassman Tendo. I'm sorry--next
week, I swear. Thank you!" Bowing fervently, he took off
down the hall.
Nabiki permitted herself a small, wicked grin and turned to
her associates. "Who's next?"
Yukari checked her notepad. "Hmm--that'd be Fumiaki
Takayama, boss. He still owes you big for February. And I
know he's got it, I saw him splurge on that Sadoko girl this
weekend. Full dinner at the Nekohanten followed by ice
cream and a movie."
Nabiki's smile widened slightly. Fumiaki was low on her
favorite people list--the word 'slimeball' came to mind.
Watching him squirm would be pure fun.
They located Takayama at the end of the lunch period,
hunched with his cronies at a table at the far end of the
cafeteria, a safe distance from the warzone that was
nominally the breadline. A short, chubby boy who was more
mature to his mind than in reality, he watched the queue
antics with a supercilious sneer.
As was the rest of the cafeteria, if less disdainfully.
Nabiki spared a glance. Ranma was having it out with
Tatewaki Kuno for the curry bread. The kendoist was as
usual getting the short end of the stick. As Nabiki
watched, Ranma casually caught his bokken by the blade
between his palms and twisted sharply, using the leverage to
flip Kuno into the air before he could let go of the wooden
sword. The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High came down hard a
few meters from Fumiaki's table, staggered to his feet, and
promptly fell flat on his face.
The lunchroom exploded in applause. Ranma shrugged, grabbed
the last curry bread, and stuffed it whole in his mouth
before sauntering over to Akane and Ukyo's table. Nabiki,
observing the lingering gazes of more than a few girls, made
a mental note to print up a couple more rolls of male Ranma
photos in addition to her productions of his girl half.
She cast a look down at Kuno, verified he was breathing
properly, and sighed. When they had first started attending
Furinkan, she had made a small fortune selling Tatewaki
Kuno's picture to half the female population of the school.
He had become the top athlete in record time, and was widely
considered the most handsome boy in Nerima. His
Shakespeare-spouting tendencies had attracted more girls
than scared off; even his oft-stated Akane-obsession hadn't
ended his market value by a long shot, however irritating it
was. Funny that he had never dated anyone, when at one time
he could have had the pick of the school.
Times change. New martial artists come. Though Nabiki
still had the best of her Kuno photos in the back of her
desk. Never know when things might come back into style,
and there was more to a guy than his fighting prowess, after
all. There had been those few pictures she had never sold
to anyone, for whatever reasons...some of her best work,
really...
But that was before Ranma, who made an utter fool of him
either as a boy or a girl. "Kuno-chan, you're an idiot,"
she muttered, then leaned forward to plant her elbows on the
table, returning her attention to Fumiaki. "Takayama,
you're long overdue. When are you planning on paying up?"
The other student shifted in his plastic seat. "I have it,
Tendo. But not on me. Meet me after school? Say, four
o'clock, the alley behind Seki's Grocery."
The bell rang, announcing the end of lunch. "Fine," Nabiki
agreed. "But you better be there with the money."
"I'll have it," Takayama promised.
And if he didn't, Nabiki had something positively wonderful
in mind to enforce her claim. In this case she wouldn't
hesitate to apply it. She had the addresses and numbers of
all his former conquests, and doubted any of the girls would
turn down a little chance at revenge. A win-win situation.
It would almost be more fun if he didn't pay up.
She was smiling as she reached the classroom, and grinned
wider when Kuno, arriving at the same time, gravely opened
the door for her. "Thanks, Kuno-chan. Don't let anyone
tell you chivalry's dead."
"Indeed not, Nabiki Tendo," he replied distantly, his mind
seemingly elsewhere. But as she walked by, he murmured,
"Are you considering attending this rendezvous with Fumiaki
Takayama?"
Nabiki stopped. If it were anyone else, she might have been
bothered by the eavesdropping. "I'm not considering, I'm
going. It's a done deal."
Kuno looked oddly serious, honestly troubled. "I hesitate
to imply interference with your affairs, Tendo, but you
would be best to avoid this encounter. I have heard
suggestion that he means you ill will."
"Takayama doesn't mean anyone any good will," Nabiki
snorted, then frowned at Kuno. "What'd you hear, exactly?"
But the teacher appeared before Kuno could answer, and they
hurried inside to take their seats before the bell rang a
second time.
***
Though she saw him surreptitiously attempting to get her
attention throughout class, Nabiki didn't get a chance to
talk with Kuno again before she was free after school, and
with only a half-hour until her appointment with Takayama
she used the time to go home and change. She looked for
Ranma to see if he might come along, but he wasn't around.
P-chan hadn't shown up for a couple of weeks or she could
have heated some water and asked Ryoga--she shook her head.
Considering revealing her knowledge of that little secret
solely on the basis of Kuno's vague warning...she usually
kept her head better than that. Takayama was a jerk but he
didn't scare her; she'd dealt with him and others of his
like plenty of times. If he had the money it would go fine.
If not...chances were Kuno didn't know what he was talking
about. Fumiaki had probably hit on either Akane or his pig-
tailed goddess, hence rousing his suspicions. Kuno was not
exactly stupid, but he wasn't the most perceptive owl in the
tree, and his grip on reality was shakier than his poetry
skills. A pity, really, with those looks, and those rare
moments that proved his brain was made of more than solid
granite.
But odds were against this warning being one of them.
She had convinced herself of that right up until a couple
large men stepped out behind Fumiaki and aimed two polished
Smith & Wessons between her eyes.
Nabiki felt as if she had been dunked in liquid nitrogen.
She was amazed by the way her mouth could go right on
working even when the rest of her was frozen solid.
"Friends of yours, Takayama?"
"Employees, actually."
She couldn't drag her eyes off the glittering gun barrels to
identify the men holding them. "You're telling me it was
cheaper to hire these guys than just pay me?"
"No." Takayama smiled. "But this is more fun." He took a
step toward her. "I wanted to see you scared, Tendo. It's
a good look for you. It'll help in our negotiations."
He took another step. "Now...let's see you kneel."
"Like hell I will." Part of her was proud of the defiance.
The other part was screaming at the top of its lungs that
this was not the time to be developing an honor complex.
Courage had its place, and it had nothing to do with
guns...when the hell did she end up on an American cop show,
anyway?
Takayama was grinning openly now. "I was hoping you'd say
that. Joji," he gestured to one of the men, "if you
would..."
The man took aim at her leg, and damn that was going to hurt
when he fired, look where your idiot ideas have gotten us,
how are we gonna get out of this one, her brain gibbered--
And was answered by a whirling shadow which dropped into the
alley out of seeming nowhere, with a short, shrill shriek of
metal on metal.
Sparks flew. Two steel cylinders fell with distinctive
clinks to the pavement. The thugs stared down at their
blunted revolvers, from which the barrels had been cleanly
sheared off.
Nabiki forced her eyes up to the shining silver blade which
had so dealt with them, then to the face behind it, and
promptly lost the last of her reason. "Ku--ku--ku--KUNO?!"
"I did attempt to warn you, Nabiki Tendo," Kuno intoned with
a hint of reprimand.
"Get him!" Takayama bellowed.
His thugs dropped the useless gun butts and charged.
Without glancing behind him, Kuno swung up his arms,
catching one man in the solar plexus with his elbow and
rapping the other across the brow with the hilt of his
sword. Before the first man was fully upright, he kicked
out and dropped him, then swept the katana around to touch
the blade to the man's throat.
"Firearms are illegal," he reminded the man. "As is
assaulting a lady. You would do well to refuse the command
of one who bids you to act so ignobly."
"Huh?"
"He means get a better boss," Nabiki found her voice. "So,
Takayama, your family really is Yakuza, like the rumors
say?"
Fumiaki was pressed up against the brick wall of the alley
as if hoping he would melt through it, sidling toward the
street. He froze when Nabiki addressed him, then narrowed
his eyes. "You--you're one to talk, Tendo, hiring this
sword-swinging maniac--"
"I have accepted no contract from Tendo-san," Kuno
corrected. "I simply happened to be passing, and heard word
that suggested a lady of my acquaintance might be
endangered. It is the duty of every samurai to assist
those--"
"Assist this!" The thug still conscious suddenly sprang up,
a knife materializing in his hand as he lunged for Kuno to
wrap him in a head lock. Simultaneously Takayama pulled a
small pistol from his jacket pocket and pointed it at
Nabiki. His unsteady grip spoke of a definite lack of
experience, but with less than a meter separating them it
was unlikely he would miss.
"I thought this would go better, but I always allow for
worst case scenarios," he gasped. "Now, where were we?"
No time to think this one through. Nabiki glanced over at
Kuno, struggling with the thug, then flicked her eyes to the
mouth of the alley and cried, "Oh, thank God, officer!"
"What!" Takayama's head swiveled automatically toward the
street, then snapped back around as he registered the
trick...
...Too late. Nabiki kicked up hard and fast where it was
calculated to hurt the most, ducking in case the gun went
off, right as Kuno dropped down on one knee and flipped his
assailant over his back, sending him crashing shoulder-first
into the wall.
He straightened up and demanded, just as Nabiki asked him at
the same time, "Are you all right?"
"Fine," they answered each other together. Nabiki kicked
the pistol out of reach, then cleared her throat. "So,
Kuno-chan...uh... Nice sword."
Kuno looked at the blade in his hand, then down at Takayama,
groaning at Nabiki's feet, and shook his head with a
distinctly un-Kuno-like smile. "Nabiki Tendo, I love you."
Enough was enough, and at this moment one factor too much.
Everything went gray, her vision tunneling. Nabiki put the
palms of her hands against the wall, lowered her head, and
concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. She wasn't the sort
to go to pieces in a crisis, she'd never fainted in her life
and wasn't planning on starting now.
When she was sure she could breathe without conscious
concentration, she pushed back from the wall, and spotted
something on the pavement between the downed thugs. She
picked it up, turned it over in her hands. A brown leather
wallet.
"Kuno?"
He was gone. She walked to the mouth of the alley, but
there was no sign of Kuno anywhere up or down the street.
Nabiki glanced back at Fumiaki, flat on his back, his two
goons crumpled in a heap behind him. Then, sighing, she
took out her cellular phone and dialed the police.
***
"No, I'm sorry, Master Kuno is out. May I take a message?"
"No, thanks." Nabiki hung up and stared at the wallet.
She had stayed around only long enough to make sure Fumiaki
and his hired help were arrested, disappearing before the
police connected her with them. It might be bad for
business to be taken in for questioning, though she was
almost positive she had done nothing illegal. Eventually
she might have to give testimony, but she'd arrange that on
her own schedule.
Kasumi of course hadn't asked any questions when her sister
walked in, paler than usual, and headed immediately for her
room. Nabiki attempted to contact Kuno, then went
downstairs to watch a news program that failed to completely
calm her nerves, despite the report of three young men
arrested for illegal firearm possession. Afterwards she
went back to her room to phone Kuno again.
If he was around, he wasn't taking calls. She debated going
over, confronting him face to face. Here's your wallet,
thanks for saving my life, now what was that you said again?
Nabiki Tendo, I love you.
Either she had misheard or he had meant it sarcastically.
Sarcasm she had a good deal of experience with, but not from
Tatewaki Kuno. He probably thought irony was another word
for steel smelting. Well, except for dramatic irony; the
guy did know his Shakespeare, and he had a certain flair,
goofy as it sometimes manifested, for recitation. Almost a
talent for acting...
Nabiki Tendo, I love you.
He had enunciated it carefully, as if reading from a script
written long before. Maybe it was all a planned prank? But
that kind of joke wasn't Kuno's style. And Fumiaki really
had wanted to hurt her.
Or worse. He had wanted worse. She had seen it in his
face. She shivered before she managed to force her mind off
that track. Seeking distraction, her eyes fell back on the
wallet, laying on the middle of her desk blotter. With one
hand she hefted its slight weight thoughtfully. She really
shouldn't. It didn't belong to her. While she didn't
necessarily respect other peoples' privacy, she understood
it. She liked her own, after all. And Kuno had saved her
life.
But she wasn't looking for blackmail material--she was
getting enough from him on a regular basis already. And it
was just a wallet.
If Nabiki had been a cat, curiosity would have already
exhausted all of her nine lives. With a little smile an
impartial observer might have labeled gleeful, she flipped
open the wallet. The yen alone was enough to make her mouth
water. She couldn't imagine ever carrying that much in
cash. Kuno would definitely be wanting this back. Three
credit cards too, two golds and a platinum--he could buy a
sports car outright on credit.
Student ID...damn, even in that tiny picture he looked good.
Several membership cards to various martial arts and kendo
clubs.
And photographs. The two on top, the first to catch one's
eye when the wallet was opened, she recognized, both taken
by her own hand. Akane, gi flaring as she cleaved a cement
block; Ranma asleep in female form, her red hair shining in
the sun. Two of her best, Nabiki thought with a touch of
artistic pride. Kuno did have a warped kind of taste.
Behind those was a picture of Kodachi, a school photo, the
Black Rose looking absurdly demure. Then a family portrait
of a younger Tatewaki and Kodachi standing before Principal
Kuno in his regular wild Hawaiian shirt and palm tree hat.
The tiny faces of his children wore identical expressions of
stoicism, ignoring the arms of their father draped over
their shoulders. Their matching haircuts were marvelously
ugly. Surprising that Kodachi had managed to grow that
ponytail back.
After that was a small photograph, a few decades old judging
by the color quality. A couple in their twenties, holding
hands and smiling. The woman looked a little like Kodachi
with her dark almond eyes, but her smile was gentler, calm.
The man also looked familiar, vaguely reminiscent of Kuno,
something in the line of the jaw, though this man was more
heavily built...
Principal Kuno, she recognized with a start like an electric
shock. Slimmer, younger, and out of the tropical gear.
Which meant that the woman...
Embarrassed without knowing why, Nabiki flipped to the last
photo. And almost dropped the wallet.
Where had this one come from? A brown-haired girl seen from
the waist up, talking on the phone with her chin propped on
one hand, smiling slightly, the pen in her other hand
thoughtfully pressed to the corner of her lip. She looked
pleased, almost insufferably so. Satisfied. Happy in her
element.
Nabiki knew she was. Because the girl was her, of course.
Who had taken that picture? And more importantly, what the
hell was it doing in Kuno's wallet?
Nabiki had a well-earned reputation for being artfully
devious, if not downright sly. But the cleverest obfuscator
knows there is a time for directness. She had some candid
questions, and there was one person who could answer them.
***
end part 1, see part 2
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