[Ranma][FanFic] A-Rose-by-any-other-Name
Andrew Cormello
Walls, as it was titled on the archive) like a year ago. I tried to
add more elements of comedy on this but the nature of the story is a
bit dark, sort of a wrestling match between good and evil, and the
damage to those caught in between. I don't know when I will write the
next part, but if you like the story or have suggestions for the future
chapters, write me at madrus...@hotmail.com and I will write back
if I can. Feel free to flame me, just keep in mind that all that effort
put into hate mail will be set to naught by the click of a delete
button. Thanks for your time, your attention, and most importantly,
your Ranma fandom. Thank you.
Andrew Cormello, Presents:
A Rose by Any Other Name
Chapter 1
The sun trickled down through the trellis, draped verdant with vines.
Near the soft, loose earth- Kodachi was always careful with it, making
sure the PH was balanced, the nutrients ample but not overabundant- a
bare foot settled on the stepping stone, then lifted as its partner on
the right set down on the next one.
The light here was never very intense. She made sure of it. The vines
produced nothing more than shade. That was their sole purpose, yet
she cherished them for it, ensured that nothing could ever violate
them. She laughed to herself, when she inherited her mother's green-
house, how the builder had wanted all the vines torn out so that he
could build up walls of glass, a prison for the plants she would be
caring for.
The next day the builder was building, but not here.
Even Sasuke, the Chief of Staff for the estate, never came here.
Her brother, Tatchi, never came here.
Not even Father came here, that mad fool- how anyone- even of HER
family- could be so loose witted as to have a bonsai palm tree
surgically implanted in his head was beyond her, although on second
thought, perhaps it was an improvement- maybe now, that single
malfunctioning brain cell would have company- and wiser company, at
that- when it made its woefully poor decisions in the future.
Step by step, she made her way over to the back of the structure. A
living greenhouse, it was covered over wire frame with living vines,
the perfect structure, alive. Living and verdant and flowing, in tune
with the seasons and the sun and the rain.
Finally, the back corner, where her rose bushes grew. A special strain,
one she personally bred from a rare strain of blue rose, her own
development that had resulted in a rose that was navy blue, so deep
that to the casual onlooker it was black, the black of sunlit velvet.
With her bare fingertips she ever so lightly caressed the petals.
Perfect in form, smooth as silk, and fragrant as spring itself.
Like Ranma. How like a rose he was! Flowing graceful, liquid fire,
vibrant and vital and alive. Strength of a stem or a branch, his thorns,
fist and foot, leaf and root. Not in appearance, thankfully- she should
hardly wish a genuine rose her mate- but in spirit. Rooted in earth yet
poised in the air, nourished by water and possessed of a fire all his own.
Elemental.
None of the laughter was here. There was no-one to frighten away.
The laughter, the supposed psychosis, these were her thorns. They kept
everyone, sadly, even Ranma, away.
They were her thorns, what she had developed to protect herself
from everyone's pity when Kuno Misato had taken the vintage 1911 Colt
.44, placed it beneath her chin, and shattered the Kuno family as she
sprayed her mind across the ceiling of the upstairs bathroom. That pity had
almost been worse than the closed coffin, as the undertaker had been
unable to make their mother presentable for an open one. A picture sat in
her shrine upstairs, placed ironically in the same place that Mama had
ended her life by a father who was no parent at all. Merely a provider.
After securing Mama's shrine, father had left for years, away to
Hawaii and other places. And had come back as a Pinkerton, whatever that
was. But when he had shown her the sigil, a lidless unblinking eye with
the slogan "The eye that never sleeps", she had felt a nameless dread, a
chill that sickened and weakened her until she turned her mind away.
"Oh! My lil keiki doan like the eye? It kinda scary, yah? It make
you make a deal wid `im, wid the Eye that nevah sleepin', yah. An' it be a
scary price to be payin', yah."
The elder Kuno had leaned forward, a mad twinkle in his eyes that
made Tatchi seem the soul of reason and stability. "But that's okay, mah
lil Dachi. The Eye gonna make sure mah keikis not gonna worry for
nothin' evah again. The Eye knows all, sees all, forgets... nothin'..."
She hadn't spoken to him, hadn't allowed him in the same room as
her ever since.
Close those memories away. Bury them in a pot, to feed the roots
of the present. Lock them away behind a wall of greenery. Hide behind the
plants, they'll protect you.
Even when he roamed around with those weird statues and the
book with the fur cover, she could hide behind her greenhouse, where
nothing could ever touch her.
Tend her roses, and the flowers and plants which she derived her
powders.
And those, too, were her thorns. Keeping everyone away- even
those she didn't want to.
She pricked her finger on a rose thorn absently, then clutched it
back, sucking at the sore spot. What to do when the thorns were too
heavy?
Simply enough dealt with- you clipped the thorns.
The Daughter of the House of Kuno sat back on her knees, sucking
at her bleeding finger and contemplating how she would clip her own
thorns.
*****
The Tendo household, plus three freeloading houseguests, knelt at
the dinner table, the clicks and taps of chopsticks the only noise being
heard. Ranma and his father inhaling everything in sight, Akane feeding
P-chan, Nabiki and Kasumi eating their food efficiently and politely,
and Soun sitting at the head of the table, the dignified patriarch. Save
for the fact that he kept a cautious and exacting eye on the last one at
the table, a short, wrinkled old master of martial arts.
The scene, while peaceful, was short-lived.
An explosion of plaster and wood splinters hailed the entrance of a
short, puny man, flung through the wall of the dojo by forces unknown.
The force in question quickly became known. A man dressed in
white, so shining it was almost blinding, with a black cross emblazoned
on his shirt, walked towards the collapsed heap on the floor. The heap,
suddenly animated, leaped to his feet, and shouted, "Dammit, Happi, don't
just stand there! Help MEEEeeeee...!" As the newcomer spun and kicked
the shrimp back out the way he came. The whole of the group stared in
astonishment as the man pursued the flying speck into the distance.
Slowly, everyone directed their eyes towards Happosai, who simply stared
out the hole through which the dinner's interruption had come.
Happi barely even noticed, only muttering, "The Purger..."
*****
"Hey, what're you doin'?" Ranma protested, as Happosai dragged
him and his father into the dojo proper.
"I need to have a talk with the both of you. Now."
"Brrow, row-rawr!" Grumbled Genma, not bothering to translate
with a sign.
"I'll deal with you later, panda boy!" Snapped Happosai. "Right
now you better decide to remember where you hid those scrolls of yours!"
Ranma looked at the two in puzzlement as his father replied via
sign, [You don't mean...] Flip [THOSE scrolls... Do you?]
"Yes, those scrolls! That was Tougo, master of the Tougo school
of Anything Goes Martial Arts that just got bounced through the dining
room a few minutes ago!"
"Um, pardon me fer askin but..." Ranma scratched the back of his
head as he looked at the two older men, "Who is Tougo?"
Happosai rubbed his chin, before producing his pipe and sitting
down crosslegged. "Well, I suppose I should have told you both of this
earlier, since I've gotten you both this far. Your father has already
guessed
some of it, but he doesn't know the whole story, yet."
*****
The key to Anything Goes Martial Arts actually lies in the name.
Anything Goes. Or, more accurately, Anything Necessary. It is designed
solely with the purpose of winning at any cost. Yet such an attitude is
difficult to cultivate without a proper form of motivation, and the most
effective means of such motivation is by careful encouragement and
enhancement of the individual's darkest vices, the embracing of his
deadliest sins. At any given time there can never be more than seven
masters of Anything Goes, because the sin which that master embraces is
his motivation for the art. None can equal the power of an Anything Goes
Master, because in the end, he will always win.
Right now there are four Masters of Anything Goes, along with
four in training.
"What do you mean? Who are they?" Ranma butted in.
"Well, I am the master of Lust. And, I might add, the Founder of
Anything Goes. Master Chingensai is the master of Sloth. Although lust
rates high on his list, his greatest sin is Sloth. He hates doing anything.
Master Tougo, whom we saw earlier embattled, is the master of Envy. He
has, I might add, chosen a successor in one of your greatest rivals. Master
Gouda, whom I hope to never see again, is the master of Greed, and could
probably give Nabiki lessons on conning, theft, and extortion."
Genma nodded. "Then the other three masters are Ranma, Akane, and
Myself- am I correct master?"
"You are- Partly. Master Hiro Yung of China passed on before he
could name a successor, but designated me to select his successor for him,
after properly training him. I've selected Ranma as the soon to be Master
of his sin. And Akane, well, she's just a natural. But you three are
still in training."
"Hey, wait!" Ranma yelled. "What's so bad about me? I ain't no
bad guy, why me?"
"Simple, Ranma." Said Nabiki from the door. "Pride. Overweening,
self-immolating, pride."
"And Akane is in training for Wrath." Said Genma.
"Hey, Akane! Congrats! You're a natural violent tomboy!" Ranma
said cheerfully, to be driven into the floorboards by a rather large mallet.
"Hmpph!" She said, the mallet vanishing.
"Effective technique, that..." Mused Happosai.
"Indeed." Genma nodded. "That would make me the trainee for
Gluttony, eh?"
"And very good at it you are, Genma. Would that all my students
were so quick to learn."
"Wait a second. What does all that have to do with that guy who
busted in the wall?" Demanded Ranma, pulling his face out of the wooden
floor.
"Well, that particular incident is sorta complex..."
Happi wilted as a Demon head rose in righteous fury over him.
"MASTER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!" A hell born voice roared.
"Okay okay I'll talk!" Happosai said. "Just keep away!"
*****
"So this fellow has decided that he has to purge the world of the
Anything Goes style, eh?" Genma said after a while.
"He feels that it is his duty as a moral paragon of the world to
cleanse it of the greatest evils it has known. Namely, those of us who mind
our own business and aren't bothering anyone else." Happosai said
resentfully.
"Just innocent old people, eh, old man?" Said Ranma.
"Watch your tone! He's gonna come after you too, you know."
Happi snapped.
"What! Why me?" Ranma demanded. "I ain't done nothing to him!
Besides, I'll just kick his butt, he oughta know that. Everyone knows me
around here."
"Case in point why Kuno was never chosen for Pride," Nabiki
murmured to herself.
"That and Kuno'd never set aside his Nobility to accomplish
anything to sate it." Akane snorted.
"Wonder if there's a school of Stupidity?" Nabiki mused.
"Too much competition in this town." Ranma said. "Especially
from Tsubasa, and the other members of his family, and Mousse, and
Ryoga-"
His listing was cut off as Akane swatted him with the Mallet again.
"Stop picking on Ryoga!" She yelled.
"She's completely ignoring the fact that Ranma can neither hear
her nor respond when he's been malleted of his consciousness." Nabiki
whispered to her older sister.
"True," agreed Kasumi quietly, "and those who believe comatose
people can still hear you have obviously never met the Kunos."
Nabiki took one look at her older sister in stunned disbelief before
she burst out laughing.
"I mean, Oh my!" Kasumi quipped, redoubling Nabiki's hilarity
and triggering giggles in Kasumi herself.
"May I ask what is SO FUNNY?!" Akane demanded.
"Oh, nothing..." said Kasumi cheerily.
Soun immediately broke down into Cry #141: My son-in-law has
been put in danger by another one of the master's crimes.
Ranma, his water sense reviving him, barely rolled out of the way
of the incoming streams of tears.
*****
Kodachi looked through her closet, suddenly searching for color.
She had never stopped mourning her mother, she noted vaguely.
"Black," she muttered softly as she moved aside a leotard, then
several more like it.
"Black," she said again as she shifted a dress.
"Black." More clothes.
Suddenly, she hated the color. Hated it with all that she was worth.
The only color in her wardrobe was her loathed Saint Hebereke uniform,
but even that was a better sight to her eyes than this array of black
clothes, fit for a mourning widow, perhaps a funeral.
But not for her. No more. Never again.
For a moment, the feeling of triumph over Black, the Darkness,
welled up her laughter, until she listened to it, listened to the throaty
cackles, and internally cringed. She couldn't possibly sound like that,
could she?
Clip the thorns.
No more of that laugh.
And no more of those clothes. She would never wear black again if
she had anything to say about it at this moment. With a violent, almost
angered wrench, she tore the horizontal wrought iron bar from the closet
walls, spilling the hangers and the drab outfits arrayed on it onto the
floor
At the noise, Sasuke almost magically appeared in the room. "Mistress,
are you alright? I heard-"
"DON'T call me that." She snapped. "Just call me Kodachi."
Clip the thorns. No more third person. "Clean that mess up and
burn all those clothes. Put the bar back in, and leave the hangers on it."
As
Sasuke moved to pick the pile up, she added, almost an afterthought, "But
leave the uniforms- I'll need them to day, I think. I'll not wear this
depressing garb any longer." And with that, she hid behind the closet door
and stripped to her underwear, flinging the black dress around the corner.
"Uniform."
As the asked for hangers of clothing was pressed into her hand, she
heard the bewildered sounds of Sasuke gathering up the clothes and piling
them in a bag to be disposed of.
Slowly, almost caringly, she pulled on the uniform, and then
fetched her purse. She had some shopping to do.
*****
For Toji Matsuhiro, the manager of Tokyo Styles, life was very
good today.
*****
"So how do we beat this guy? He's got a weak spot, right?" Ranma
asked.
"Um... I'm still working on that."
The room facefaulted at Happosai's embarrassed admission.
*****
"Where the devil am I now?" Wondered Ryoga. "And what are all
these stupidly huge robots?"
Around him, the battle of Macross raged on.
*****
Kodachi admired the new skirt as it swayed on her hips. The outer
layer was simply silvery strings which hung down, completely obscuring
the black underneath them until she moved, sending shimmering and
contrasting ripples across it as she walked. The gray sweater she wore
above it matched surprisingly well. It looked, well- Nice. Naughty, but
nice.
She smiled because of her wardrobe, those were the closest to what
she usually wore. Reds, greens, blues, purples, each hung in her closet,
along with a few things in white, but not much. She was vaguely reminded
of her garden.
Color. At last, there is a little color come back into my life.
The thing that had really given Sasuke a heart attack was her new
hair color. Bleached out and dyed red, just like the old days, before
mother-
No. I'm finished mourning her. She would want me to be happy.
I'm going to live again, Mama. And I miss you.
*****
In another room in the house, gazing into an opalescent sphere, the
Kuno patriarch frowned at his daughter's new look. Getting up, the
eerie light immediately fading from the stone, he pulled out a small
altar of bone, shaped from the bones of every known primate, from spider
monkeys, to apes- to humans. All murdered, their brains and hearts
sacrificed on an altar devoted to the MASTER of the Eye that Never
Sleeps and consumed by HIS darkfires, watching the flames which shed
an eye-raping darkness that swallowed up the light and withered the
organs into coal on an altar made of the very bones of the sacrifices
themselves, to consecrate this to the MASTER of That which he had
Bargained With. His first bargain with the Eye, then his second with
the Eye's MASTER.
Using the profaned athame, gathered from the corpse of a High
Priestess who had been celebrating Samhein at the time of her murder,
he drew with its tip the signs of summoning into his left palm, drawn
widdershins and from the inside to the outside, its inner etchings and
lines extending past the boundaries of the circle. The blood bled freely
only to vanish into the air as his summoning sacrifice bled itself from
his veins into the invisible mouth of the MASTER.
Tendrils wrapped themselves around his mind as the Palm tree on
his head convulsed and assumed its true shape, a tentacle suckered on
all of its surfaces, writhing and twisted, the leash by which MALAG THOTH
held his newest dog and the vein through which that dog drew his unholy
powers. The pulsing artery through which MALAG maintained his
essence from Tyr Na Nohg into Japan.
"MASTER," he began. "My son's conversion to your cause
through his madness progresses well. But my daughter seems to have
shaken off some of my spell. I am in need of your power to serve you."
The tentacle writhed and he heard the words in his mind.
slave you will never attain my power to enslave her because it is
beyond what may be done with My power I shall however enable you to
win her back through deceit and trickery My price is that you fulfill
My desires and torment the students which you hold in your thrall for
their anguish pleases Me you have been commanded so shall you act
The Tentacle at the crown of his head gave one last painful
convulsion before it held still and once again took the appearance of
a palm tree.
"Yah, it been commanded of me," said Principal Kuno with a grin
bordering on maniacal. "Yah, Big Kahuna, and it gonna be done."
*****
Elsewhere, as the broken form of Tougo gazed on in agony at the
Purger standing above him, it seemed that the man cocked his head as
though straining to hear a distant sound. A red light flashed in the
pupils
of the Purger's eyes before he whirled about and was gone.
Tougo scarcely had time to wonder at this before he blacked out.
End Chapter 1
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