[Ranma][FanFic] The Prodigal Mother - Part 1

[M.A. MacKinnon]

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
All Ranma 1/2 characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi
and are used without permission

The Prodigal Mother
Part One

by Mark MacKinnon

(Note: This fanfic follows the continuity begun in my first fic, "Cast a
Long Shadow". Call it: The Shadow Chronicles Vol. 2.)

Akane woke with a soft cry, struggling weakly against her confining
covers. Someone's arms slid around her, warm and comforting, and a low
voice murmured in her ear.
"It's all right, Akane. You're okay now. You're safe." She
gasped for breath, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird, curling up
against the warm figure that sat on the edge of her bed, trying to draw
strength from it's solidity, trying to banish the irrational fear that
slid through her veins. Trying to remember that she was in her own bed.
Safe.
Wait a minute.
She pulled back suddenly, causing the figure to stiffen with
surprise. "Ranma?" she hissed. "What ... what are you doing in my
*room*?" Her heart pounded for a different reason as she tugged the
already demure collar of her pajama top tightly closed. She could see
Ranma's face now, her eyes growing accustomed to the dim light leaking
in through her open window. He looked embarrassed, scratching the back
of his head ruefully.
"I, uh, heard you. You sounded like you were having a nightmare,
and I came in to check on you." He sounded angry and defensive, and she
felt her own anger dissolving quickly.
"Heard me? Was I really loud enough to wake you?" she asked,
concerned. Ranma's ability to sleep through anything was legendary.
Then she remembered the open window. Only she hadn't left it open.
"I wasn't asleep," he admitted ruefully. "I was on the roof.
Thinking." Right. Brooding was more like it. It had been just over a
week since Kodachi had died, pulling Ranko from the collapsing
dimensional link. And almost a week since Ranko, Ranma's counterpart,
had set out for parts unknown, unable or unwilling to stay with them.
Everything still seemed tentative somehow, unreal, as if they were all
waiting for someone to drop the other shoe.
"So are you okay? I mean ..." Ranma trailed off awkwardly. "You
wanna talk about it, or something?" She glanced at him, surprised.
Outside of the pressure-cooker situation that had forced them to finally
confront their true feelings, things had become somewhat forced between
them. She felt a warmth spreading through her chest as Ranma expressed
concern for her. Well, as directly as he was able, at any rate. She
noticed that he was dressed only in shorts and a dark tank top, and she
wished he would put his arms around her again.
Well, if he wouldn't, she would. After all, they had admitted
their feelings for each other, right? She leaned into him again,
slipping her arms around his lean waist, basking in the heat from his
body. She smiled slightly as she felt him finally reciprocate, closing
her eyes and nuzzling into his chest. For long moments, neither of them
spoke.
"I dreamed about my mother," Akane said at last, her smile fading
away. "And Kodachi." Ranma's arms tensed slightly, but he said
nothing.
"She didn't look like she was sleeping," Akane said after another
silence. "They always say that it's just like they're sleeping, but she
didn't look asleep. She looked dead."
"Which one?" Ranma asked softly, his hands stroking her back in a
soothing, repetitive pattern.
"Both. The only two dead people I've ever seen." Her arms
tightened around him, and she burrowed into his broad chest even harder,
as if he was the only safe place left in the world.
"All the things we've ever been through, all the dangerous and
silly and wild things, and I never thought ..." She stopped for a
moment, choking up, a lump rising in her throat.
"Hey," Ranma said, concerned.
"I never thought anything serious would ever happen! I never
thought any of us would ever duh-die! It was never supposed to be like
this, was it?" She felt tears stinging her eyes, forced them back
angrily. "But I can't stop thinking about her! It's just ... just NOT
FAIR!" Ranma silently agreed as Akane clung tightly to him, a shudder
running through her.
"Not fair," she whispered. She felt him sigh, his breath stirring
her hair gently.
"I know. I think about it too." She heard something in Ranma's
voice that told her she probably wasn't the only one whose sleep was
uneasy these days.
"And what about Kunou? He hasn't been back to school since it
happened. Nobody's even seen him. I hate to say this, Ranma, but he's
never been exactly ... *stable*, has he? Who knows what he's going
through now? And he's got nobody to turn to. That father of his would
certainly be useless at a time like this. We're the closest things he
has to friends, we should be doing something!"
"We tried, remember?" Ranma told her. "The servants had
instructions not to let anybody in. Like it or not, we'll just have to
wait for Kunou to finish mourning."
"But ..." she began.
"You can't help somebody that doesn't want to be helped," Ranma
told her softly. "He'll have to come out of that estate sooner or
later. Just be patient." They were silent for a while then, just
sitting there, being together, the way Akane had always dreamed of.
This was the first time they had been alone together since the fight at
Furinkan that had cost them so much.
She found herself enjoying it. A lot. And she felt guilty for
that, a survivor's guilt. Then she felt Ranma tense slightly.
"What?"
"Nothing," he sighed after a moment. "I just thought I heard a
noise, and I was thinking what your father would do if he found us in
here like this." Akane felt a smile spread over her face.
"Relax. He'd probably be delighted that we were together," she
giggled.
"Don't be too sure of that," Ranma said darkly. Akane pulled back
so she could look him in the eye.
"Ranma, Dad didn't mean what he said to you that day." She could
tell by his expression that he wasn't convinced.
"He still blames me for that accident at the construction site, and
he was pretty sure I was the bad influence that convinced you to go to
Furinkan to fight those things," he said sourly. "He's still giving me
the evil eye, you know."
"He just needs some time to get used to the idea that I'm not a
little girl anymore," she told him. "You know how overprotective he
gets. If he doesn't have us girls to protect, he thinks he doesn't have
anything. He'll get over it, Ranma. Trust me." He nodded, then stood.
She was surprised at the intensity of the pang of regret she felt at
the thought of his leaving.
"It's getting late," he said at last. "We'd better get some sleep.
School tomorrow." She nodded reluctantly, waited to see if he would
kiss her. They hadn't kissed since the day of the fight, and the old
awkwardness threatened to build between then again. He hesitated, and
her heart skipped a beat.
"Sweet dreams," he said finally, vaulting out the window. She
watched him go, exasperated.
"Do I have to do everything in this relationship?" she despaired,
before plopping back onto her bed with a deep sigh.
The heat from his body seemed to linger, a teasing tingle against
her skin, and sleep was a long time coming.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note to self, Nabiki thought darkly. Stop talking to Kasumi.
She sat alone under a tree, eating her lunch and feeling very
cross. After her confrontation with Ranko, she'd broken down and
spilled her feelings to her older sister. While that conversation had
made her feel much better, it had unearthed some ugly truths that she
would rather not have confronted. Her tendency to run roughshod over
people's feelings in the pursuit of her own goals had caused the
confrontation, and she had agreed with Kasumi that she needed to
consider the consequences when using her talent to make money, and to
consider the feelings of others more often.
And God knows she was trying. But half the problem was that when
she passed up an opportunity to really put the screws to someone, people
acted as if she was doing something suspicious. Everyone knew her
reputation, and figured that she must be up to something really
sinister, and treated her even more warily than usual.
The other half of the problem, of course, was that she liked making
money. She was good at it. She couldn't just stop, even if she wanted
to. And frankly, she didn't want to.
She saw nothing wrong with loaning people money at high interest
rates. People came to her, after all. She wasn't forcing them to
borrow money. But making money was just an off-shoot of her talent for
conceiving and executing plans, the more complex the better.
Unfortunately, many of her ideas ended up with someone getting hurt.
Thinking of that had lately given her a very clear mental picture of
Ranko's face as it had appeared after she'd sold information on his
whereabouts to the others. She'd been cruel and petty, and she knew it.
And a surprising number of budding plans turned out, upon reflection,
to have similar likely outcomes.
Nabiki was not a monster. She didn't want to go around looking for
ways to hurt people. But her talent was a part of her, an important
part. It made her special, the way talent for art or writing or music
made other people special. It was driving her crazy, trying to come up
with a really good money-generating scheme that wouldn't hurt anybody.
It seemed impossible.
If only Kunou was around. Tormenting Kunou was always the high
point of her day. But he hadn't been back to school, not since
Kodachi's death. In fact, no one had seen him since that day. She
thought about Kodachi and her mood darkened even further.
She'd never liked Kodachi. In fact, she'd regarded her as being
anywhere from a severe nuisance to an actual threat, depending on her
mood, but that had never stopped her from making money off the poor sap.
And she'd never wished her dead. From what she'd heard of that fight,
it was a wonder any of them had come back alive. She turned, looking
over the yard, wondering exactly where she had died. There was nothing
to mark that spot. That seemed wrong somehow, considering what the
stakes had been. Still, very few people outside of the small group
who'd been there knew the truth about what had happened on that dark
Sunday.
She heard the hushed chatter of a group of girls as they walked
slowly past her, listening out of ingrained habit.
"I heard they found some plumbers in the basement, along with the
chief custodian," one was saying excitedly. "They'd all been killed in
some sort of ritual!"
"I heard the police covered it all up to stop panic from
spreading!" another whispered conspiratorially. Nabiki snorted to
herself. If it had been covered up, then a bunch of schoolgirls
wouldn't have known about it, would they? People could be so naive
sometimes.
"Well, I heard that Kunou-sempai's sister was involved somehow, and
that the police had to shoot her!" another girl confided. Nabiki
stiffened angrily.
"She was always so creepy," the first girl agreed. "I wouldn't be
surprised if she was involved in something unnatural like that." Nabiki
had heard enough. She stood abruptly and marched into the path of the
girls, startling them.
"Why don't you shut up about things you know nothing about?" she
asked in an icy tone. "It's not proper to gossip about someone who's
just died, you know." The girls, aware of Nabiki's reputation for
ruthlessness, were cowed momentarily by her vehemence.
"Well, if you know so much, Nabiki, why don't you tell us what
really happened," one of them spoke up. "Everybody's heard that his
sister died, but nobody knows how! You always know all the dirt!"
"Yeah, we'll pay you!" another joined in, her eyes glinting with
anticipation. Nabiki felt a sick sensation in her gut at that. Did
they really think she would sell information like that? Did they?
Of course they did. Why wouldn't they? Wasn't that what she
always did? Anything for the right price, that was her. She felt the
blood draining from her face, a chill creeping through her body. This
is my legacy, she thought numbly. This is it. This is all I have.
The girls were holding out handsful of yen, eager to be the first
with the inside scoop on Kodachi's mysterious death. After all, they
could tell everyone that it came from Nabiki Tendou, and wasn't her
information always good? Nabiki stared at the money, feeling a scream
building in the back of her throat.
"Oh, this is bad," she told herself. "I'm going to scream, right
here in front of these idiots. I'm really going to ..."
"Girls," a low, throaty voice intruded. "Is there a problem?"
Nabiki blinked. The hands were quickly withdrawn, the money stuffed
away quickly.
"Miss Hinako! No ma'am, no problem!"
"Good. Then why don't you run along?" she purred in her sexy
voice. "I'd like to speak to Ms. Tendou for a moment." The others lost
no time in getting lost, leaving Nabiki to face the teacher alone.
Nabiki noted that someone must have been fighting recently, since
Miss Hinako was in her adult form. Her curves pressed provocatively
against the overstressed material of her dress, her skirt riding up
indecently high on her thighs, the buttons over her impressive cleavage
threatening to burst with every breath. She tossed her carmel-coloured
mane back over her shoulder with one elegant hand, and Nabiki saw that
her haughty features were creased in a disapproving frown.
"Hey, teach," Nabiki said, striving to keep her tone light.
"What's up? Besides your chi, that is."
"Ms. Tendou," Hinako breathed. "I do hope that you weren't doing
what I think you were doing. Trying to cash in on the grief of one of
your classmates would be low, even for you." Nabiki felt anger swelling
behind her suddenly clenched teeth. No, she told herself. Never let
them know what you're really feeling. Never. Be cool. Don't lose it.
Just be cool.
"I resent the implication," she said. There, that was cool, she
congratulated herself.
"It was not an implication, dear, it was a warning. If you know
anything about what happened with Tatewaki Kunou's sister, and it would
not surprise me at all to learn that you did, keep it to yourself. It
would be most unfortunate if I were to learn you were making money off
of such information. That would upset me." She leaned closer, looking
Nabiki directly in the eye. "A great deal. Do we understand each
other?"
"Certainly," Nabiki answered coolly. Miss Hinako was a lot easier
to deal with in her childish form. In this state, she had too much
self-confidence to be easily diverted or evaded. It seemed to Nabiki
sometimes that the teacher was two entirely different people.
"That's what I wanted to hear," Hinako said, her lush lips curving
into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She turned to go.
"Miss Hinako!"
"Yes?" she asked, turning back.
"Has the principal been back this week?" The sultry teacher
frowned.
"No, he hasn't."
"Well, what about Kunou? Do you have any idea when he's coming
back?" Hinako gave her a strange look.
"Perhaps you should ask him yourself," she suggested pointedly.
"He isn't taking calls, and everybody who shows up at the gates of
the estate is turned away. None of us have gotten to see him since ..."
She trailed off suggestively.
"I wasn't aware of that," Hinako said, frowning even more severely.
"I was thinking that, since you're a teacher, maybe you could get
in and, you know, make sure everything's all right." Nabiki waited, her
face carefully expressionless. Hinako thought for a moment.
"Perhaps that would be a good idea," she nodded at last. She
glanced back at Nabiki.
"See that you don't forget our talk, Ms. Tendou," she admonished,
and then she strutted off, quickly picking up a bevy of male admirers.
Nabiki allowed a small, satisfied smile to cross her face finally.
She had manipulated the teacher without her knowledge, and a plan
was quickly developing. She'd find out what was going on with Kunou
yet.
Then the smile faded as a small voice spoke up inside her head.
"Are you proud you managed to manipulate her?" it asked. She
scowled.
"Oh, shut up," she muttered.
She wondered if it was a coincidence that the voice sounded like
Kasumi.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon, the schoolyard was full of groups of people, many
still talking about the events of the past week in Nerima. Nabiki
ignored them all. There was only one person she was interested in.
Miss Hinako. She watched as the teacher, once again in her
diminutive form, walked quickly through the crowd. Nabiki followed
along, her bag slung casually over her back. She hung back, not
worrying whenever she lost sight of Hinako.
After all, she knew where the teacher was going.
The crowd thinned out quickly once they were through the school
gates, and Nabiki faded back even further to avoid detection. She
needn't have bothered. Miss Hinako never looked back once, bouncing
along perkily on her way to the Kunou estate. The afternoon sun was
pleasantly warm, and she enjoyed the walk, casually checking out passers
by.
Finally, she slowed, seeing the main gates to the estate ahead.
She watched Miss Hinako walk up to the two burly young men standing in
front of the gate. They were dressed in servant's livery, but there was
no mistaking the look of hired muscle. Nabiki knew that they had orders
not to let anyone in; she'd already tried several methods of
circumventing them. This particular method promised to be entertaining,
however, as well as effective.
She lingered by the corner of the wall as the unimposing Miss
Hinako marched up to the two guards and said something. She saw them
burst out in laughter. Hinako stomped her foot angrily and said
something else. One of the guards actually patted her on the head.
Bad move.
Hinako took one step back, whipping out something in her right
hand. Nabiki knew it was a coin with a hole in the middle, and she knew
what came next. Holding the coin between her index and middle fingers,
she held it in front of her. The two guards started laughing even
harder.
Then their chi became visible and started draining into the coin,
and they stopped laughing. Nabiki watched them drop to their knees as
Miss Hinako's form swelled once again to its adult proportions. The two
guards keeled over onto the ground, stunned, and Miss Hinako stepped
over them gracefully, letting herself in through the gate.
Nabiki smiled to herself. Teach, you're a gem, she thought smugly.
As she started to move from her spot of concealment, she suddenly
caught a motion out of the corner of her eye, and she eased back,
curious. A slim figure wearing a long grey trenchcoat and sunglasses
dashed nimbly across the street toward the Kunou estate's now unguarded
gate. Pausing to glance furtively about, it slipped quietly inside.
Well, Nabiki thought. Curiouser and curiouser. She trotted up to
the gate, pausing to look down at the two stunned guards.
"Oh, no," she said magnanimously. "Don't get up. I'll let myself
in."
And she did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ninomiya Hinako sauntered up to the front door of the Kunou
family's opulent house feeling uncharacteristically subdued. She had
been worried ever since she'd heard the rumours of Kodachi Kunou's
mysterious death. The principal hadn't been back to school yet, and
nobody in administration was talking about where he was or when he'd be
back. She wouldn't have thought twice about young Tatewaki's continued
absence if it hadn't been for Nabiki Tendou revealing that nobody had
seen him since his sister's death. That didn't sound healthy to her.
She frowned, thinking about Nabiki. That girl had the heart of a
mercenary, if she had any heart at all. She suspected that the girl
knew more about Kodachi's death, and perhaps all the strange events of
the past week, than she was telling. However, experience had taught her
that the girl was nearly impossible to intimidate, and she had no proof,
so she was stuck.
She thought again of the snatch of conversation she'd overheard at
lunchtime, the girls with money held forth eagerly. Had Nabiki really
been on the verge of selling information about Kodachi's death? Would
she really go so far?
Hinako shook her head. That would have to wait. Right now she had
bigger problems to deal with. She reached the front door and knocked
briskly.
Presently, the door was opened. Hinako was surprised to see that
Kunou himself was answering the door. He stared at her without
expression, as if she was just a fixture of the lush yard.
"My servants had orders not to allow anyone to enter." He spoke
flatly, without inflection. Hinako felt a subtle chill stir the hairs
at the back of her neck. As long as she'd known Kunou, he had been
loud, expressive, and full of life. Amongst other things. This Kunou
was a stranger. This Kunou, she did not know.
"Your servants were very rude," she said simply. "They had a
sudden pressing need for a nap." His expression didn't change.
"If you have come to speak to my father, you have wasted a trip.
He is not here, and I know not where he is, nor when he shall return.
If ever." She was surprised to hear that the principal had left his son
to mourn alone.
"Actually, I came because I wished to speak to you," she said
softly. "Tatewaki Kunou, I understand that you grieve for your sister,
but I learned today that you have spurned all comfort and company.
Grief is best shared. If kept to oneself, it can become an unbearable
burden."
"This burden cannot be shared. It is mine and mine alone," he said
flatly. She frowned.
"Have you no friends, then?" she asked angrily.
"Does one not have a duty to protect one's friends?" he asked, a
flicker of something flashing across his face. Hinako frowned.
"I don't understand."
"I know. Nor must you understand, sensei. You must simply leave.
There is nothing here for you." She stared urgently into his face,
searching for some sign of the blustering young fop she was so familiar
with. She began to wonder if that boy was gone forever, banished by his
sister's mysterious passing. At long last she sighed.
"Very well, then. I will leave. For now. Have you any idea when
you will be returning to school?"
"Soon, sensei. There remain only a handful of tasks that I must
complete first." She nodded, although she wasn't sure she understood.
"Very well. I'm sorry to have disturbed you. And Kunou. I was
very sorry to hear about your sister's passing. You have my deepest
sympathies. If there is anything I can do, anything you need, I would
appreciate it if you would let me know." Another flicker of emotion
crossed his face quickly. Regret.
"I thank you for your concern, sensei," he said quietly. "I
apologize for my lack of manners, but I really am unprepared for
visitors." She nodded.
"I understand. Please remember what I've said." Then she turned,
hearing the door close quietly behind her as she walked down the path to
the main gates. The whole brief conversation had been strange. Kunou
had changed so much. She wondered sadly if he would ever again be the
boy he had once been. And his father, running off and leaving his son
at a time like this! What kind of a man could do that?
She fumed silently as she walked to the gate. And one other thing
bothered her as she cast a glance over her shoulder. The entire time
she'd been on the estate grounds, she'd had the oddest feeling.
Like she was being watched.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nabiki skulked through the bushes, following the mysterious figure
as it slipped unobtrusively through the estate's sprawling grounds. It
had left the path as soon as they'd entered the estate, not following
Miss Hinako. In fact, it seemed to know where it was going. Curious,
Nabiki followed, barely managing to keep the gray trenchcoat in sight at
times, until finally they came to a sheltered grove deep in the garden.
Nearby, she could hear the quiet trickling of a streamlet, a soothing
sound. She crouched behind a dense cluster of tall shrubs and waited to
see what the other would do.
Then she noticed several markers scattered throughout the grove.
Grave markers.
What the HELL?
The figure moved slowly among the markers, stopping finally before
one of black stone. As Nabiki watched, shocked, the figure fell to it's
knees, the sunglasses tumbling to the ground. Then she heard a sound.
A sob. A woman's sob.
Nabiki watched as the mysterious woman's shoulders bobbed with the
force of her emotion, her hands coming up to her face. Although she
couldn't see what the woman looked like, since she was almost directly
behind her, she could make out a rose carved into the surface of the
marker, and guessed that it was probably for Kodachi. So the Kunous had
their own private graveyard, did they? But who was this, sneaking into
the estate just to see Kodachi's grave? A friend? Did Kodachi even
*have* any friends?
She caught a slight motion out of the corner of her eye, looking up
to see Kunou coming slowly into the grove. He moved with an easy grace,
making no sound, and if she hadn't seen him she'd never have known he
was there. The crying woman was still unaware.
Nabiki stared intently at the sheathed katana he carried in one
hand in place of his usual bokken. She'd heard about the glowing sword
he'd had at Furinkan that day, the one that the demons had feared.
There was a lot going on here that she wanted to know more about. A
lot.
"I buried her next to Kazuhiro. It seemed fitting." The woman
started at the sound of Kunou's voice, her hands flying to her chest.
She turned to look at him, and Nabiki saw her face for the first time.
She had her dark hair pulled back from her face, and her eyes were wide,
startled. Shocked, even. Nabiki had never seen her before, but she
thought that the woman looked strangely familiar. She stood slowly,
turning to face Kunou, and Nabiki got a better look at her face. High
cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, a slight curve to the bridge of the nose
...
Then she had it.
"Oh, my God!" she thought. "No way!" The woman watched as Kunou
walked toward her, stopping just over an arm's length away.
"Tatchi," the woman whispered hoarsely. Kunou's face showed no
emotion.
"Hello, Mother," he said.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kunou looked at his mother dispassionately. She had aged well;
there was no gray in her hair, and her face was still unlined. She was
wearing a gray trenchcoat that was tightly belted around her slim waist,
and her face was streaked with tears. She reached a hand out to him.
"Oh, Tatchi," she whispered.
"You will not call me that," he said, an edge to his voice. She
jerked, her hand wavering, then falling to her side limply. She looked
down.
"I understand you must be angry ..." she began.
"Angry? You flatter yourself. I have long since stopped caring
about you. Long since, in the many years since we last saw each other."
He continued to stare at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes, glancing
instead around the grove, at the scattered markers.
"How did you find out?" he asked at last. She looked up
reluctantly.
"I've always kept track of what's gone on in your lives," she said
quietly.
"How very maternal," he said flatly. She paused, then spoke again,
tentatively.
"How? How did it happen?"
"Monsters," he said simply. "Monsters killed her."
"Don't mock me!" she cried. "Don't you dare! She was my daughter,
damn you!" Kunou's face hardened.
"Yes, she was," he gritted. "She was your daughter, and you
abandoned her. I think it is somewhat late to be showing concern for
her now." His mother stood, her hands clasped tightly, her head bowed,
stricken by the truth of his words.
"She thought of you often," he said suddenly, causing her to
stiffen. "She never told me, of course, but I know she did. Sometimes,
in the quiet hours before dawn, I would wander the halls, and I would
hear her cry out in her sleep. Most often, she cried out for her
mother. She cried out for you." His gaze was glacial, which she seemed
to sense even though she wouldn't look up.
"But I never did. Not once." Her head snapped up at that, her
face streaked with fresh tears.
"Tatewaki, I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"Sorry? You are SORRY?" She flinched away from the sudden rage on
his face as he fought to regain his careful control, the control he had
struggled to maintain since he had buried his sister.
"You ... you don't understand ..." she said weakly.
"No, I think it is you who does not *understand*. Every day we
lived in this environment, the three of us at first, then Kodachi and I.
We lived in an acid bath of madness and nightmare, and watched
helplessly as it slowly ate away at the veneer of sanity. We may have
been somewhat mad, but at least we found ways to function. I had my
arts, my poetry, submerging myself in the past. And ... other pursuits.
And Kodachi ..." He stopped, his jaw clenching tightly, and his mother
finally looked up timidly, trying to meet his gaze.
"And Kodachi," he continued at last, "sought what she had always
been denied. Love, tenderness, caring. But by that point, she sought
it with a single-minded obsessiveness that was frightening to behold,
that was antithetical to the very things she claimed to desire. She had
come to believe that she could be saved by true love." He turned to
look toward Kodachi's marker, but in truth his gaze was seeing something
much farther away.
"True love," he said, almost wistfully. "And of course, she chose
exactly the wrong man to lose her heart to. She came to believe that if
she could win his love, by any and all means necessary, then she would
be saved. We would all be saved. How could I make her understand that
he was a coward, an honourless cur who cared nothing for the feelings of
the women who pursued him so ardently? I tried, but she would not
listen. In later days, she never listened to me, not even when I tried
to get her to leave here. And so, in the end, she sacrificed herself
for the love of an unworthy man, and was lost to us." He continued to
stare blankly at the marker, lost in what might have been, if only ...
If only.
"Tatewaki, it's not too late! Leave this place. Today, with me."
He blinked, her voice bringing him back to the present roughly. He
turned to see her looking into his face imploringly.
"Leave?" he echoed hollowly.
"There is nothing but madness here, Tatewaki! You said so
yourself! You need not stay with all these bad memories, come away with
me! Now, today! We'll go someplace safe, we'll ..."
"YOU!" The rage in his voice stopped her short, and she took a
step back reflexively as Kunou's hands trembled, his control nearly
breaking. Nearly.
"You," he repeated softly. "You have never understood, have you?
It has always been the duty of our clan to guard this place. That was
explained to you when you and father married, was it not?" She nodded
helplessly.
"Y-yes, but ... nothing had happened for so long, I didn't expect
..."
"You swore an oath," he said, his voice laden with scorn, "because
you thought you would never be called upon to fulfill it." She looked
away again, unable to meet the loathing in his face.
"I was afraid!" she cried, her voice thick with sorrow. "Don't you
understand? Kazuhiro was just a child, and they killed him! I was
afraid of what might happen to us!"
"And so you ran away!"
"I wanted to take the two of you with me! I wanted to, but your
father wouldn't allow it! He had wealth and influence, and I had none!
He wouldn't let me take you away, and now two of my children are dead!"
She stepped closer to Kunou, reaching out desperately, her hand
clenching in the air.
"Come with me, Tatewaki. Don't let this family's curse claim you,
too. End this once and for all." He stared at her, his face
expressionless once again, and he could see a faint glimmer of hope
cross her features, those features that were so much like his sister's.
Once he would have given anything to have his mother come back to him.
Once, but that was a long time ago.
"Even if I were to leave, foolish woman, it would not be ended. If
I were to leave, who would fulfill the obligations of our clan? My
father is no longer capable, has not been for some time. If I leave,
who will honour their memories, their sacrifices?" He swept his arm out
to indicate the scattered markers that occupied the sheltered grove.
"You would have me run away, like a dog with his tail between his legs,
after all I have endured? You are mad, woman. I will fulfill my
obligations, to my blood line and to honour, even if it costs me my
life. But you would not understand that. You understand nothing but
yourself. Go from this place." He turned to her, his expression
granite, unyielding.
"You are not welcome in this house." With that, he turned sharply
and walked away, leaving her standing, stunned and motionless, in his
wake. Her hand, still held out to him, trembled and fell to her side.
I'm afraid for you!" she half-shouted, half-sobbed at his stiff
back. "Can't you understand? Tatewaki, I'm your MOTHER!" He stopped,
not bothering to turn around.
"I have no mother," he said softly, his voice carrying in the still
afternoon air. "She was lost to me, a very long time ago."
Then he left her amongst the memories of the dead, the only sign of
emotion the whiteness of his knuckles where he grasped the lacquered
sheath of his weapon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey!" Nabiki had waited until Kunou's mother had left the estate
grounds before trying to approach her. The woman hadn't turned at her
call, and Nabiki trotted to catch up, her shadow racing ahead of her in
the late afternoon light. It wasn't hard to catch the other woman. She
was walking slowly, aimlessly, seemingly oblivious to everything around
her, her long gray trenchcoat flapping listlessly against her legs, not
even noticing as Nabiki came up beside her.
"Um, Mrs. Kunou?" Nabiki asked hesitantly. The woman stopped
finally, turning her tear-stained face to look at the younger girl. Up
close, Nabiki was amazed by how much she looked like Kodachi. The
features were so similar, but Kodachi's face had always borne the
imprint of maliciousness, of anger. This face was kinder, but sad. And
beautiful. It was the face Kodachi might have had if she'd lived long
enough to mature, and if she'd ever found a measure of peace.
"I haven't gone by that name in a long time," the woman said
hollowly, and Nabiki shivered at the despair in her voice. "Who are
you?"
"Nabiki Tendou, ma'am," she said. "I'm a classmate of Kunou ba ...
of Tatewaki's." The woman nodded distantly, and Nabiki went on.
"I was going to see him, and I couldn't help overhearing a, uh, a
bit of your conversation. I was wondering if you could tell me what
that was all about?" The woman stood motionless, her dark eyes shifting
to look into Nabiki's, her gaze sharpening slightly.
"Are you a friend of my son's?" she asked suddenly. Nabiki was
taken off-guard. A friend? Most of her dealings with Kunou had
historically involved him paying her, whether it be for pictures or
information. She didn't think that particular fact would be of interest
to his mother. Mrs. Kunou, perhaps misinterpreting Nabiki's hesitation,
pressed on, emotion creeping into her voice.
"If you care at all for Tatewaki, please help him. Please. He's
in terrible danger. Please."
With that last plea, she turned and dashed off down the sidewalk,
leaving a startled Nabiki behind. Danger?
Leave this alone, a tiny internal voice chided. No profit here,
just twisted old family business. Get out of it.
Then she flashed, with painful clarity, on the image of the girls
from earlier, their money clenched in outstretched hands, expressions
eager and hungry.
Nabiki's mouth set into a firm line and she set off to follow
Kunou's mother.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hinako walked slowly through the gathering gloom. She had reverted
to her younger form, but was acting with uncharacteristic seriousness.
Her encounter with Kunou had left her both saddened and angry. Kunou
was obviously suffering from his sister's passing, and seemed determined
for some reason to suffer alone. And his father had apparently
abandoned him.
The principal's penchant for taking off was legendary amongst the
staff and students at Furinkan. He was, after all, something of a
flake, if the truth be told. Still, to leave his only son alone in that
huge house after his daughter had died ...!
And she still had no idea what had happened to Kodachi. Rumours
abounded, each more outlandish than the last. She had a feeling that
the cause of Kodachi's death might have something to do with her
brother's state of mind. She wondered how she might find out. Maybe
she should ask Ranma or Akane. They all hung around in the same group,
maybe they knew something.
Or Nabiki. She felt an expression of distaste cross her face.
Only if she wanted to pay for the information. Honestly, that girl ...
She was passing by a shadowed alleyway close to her building when
she heard it. A piteous sound, tiny and frightened. She stopped,
peering intently into the shadows.
"Hello?" she said tentatively. It came again, a high-pitched
mewing. It sounded like a kitten. She edged toward the alleyway,
noting how few people there were on this side street. She should be
careful, she knew, but the animal sounded like it was in trouble, and
she couldn't resist an innocent in distress. She took another step
closer.
"Here, kitty kitty kitty," she crooned, trying to make out details
in the darkness.
Something moved in the shadowed alley, a quick blur of motion, and
she was pulled roughly from her feet, yanked forward into the shadows.
She fought for breath as she felt a rough hand covering her mouth,
cutting off her scream as she was carried into the depths of the alley,
further and further from the light.
And the thing carrying her laughed, a mad, inhuman sound.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nabiki was confused. She wasn't entirely certain what she was
doing, or even why she was doing it. She'd spent half the afternoon
following Kunou's mother, tracking her to a small, inexpensive hotel
where she'd determined that the woman was staying. She didn't look like
she'd be in any shape to answer any questions, so Nabiki had decided to
wait and hope the woman didn't leave before she could talk to her again.
But what was she going to talk to the woman *about*? What the hell
was the deal, anyway? Private graveyards, strange family obligations
and this dead guy, Kazuhiro. Why was she even considering getting into
this?
( "I have no mother," he had said, the sorrow buried, but clear if
you knew where to look. As she did. "She was lost to me, a very long
time ago.")
You and me both, Kunou-baby, Nabiki thought darkly. She trooped
wearily up the front walk, dropping her bag in the entry and trudging
through the house. She could hear Kasumi in the kitchen, but there was
no sign of her father or Mr. Saotome. Loud female voices indicated
Akane and Ranma-chan were in the garden. She walked over to the
veranda, peering out at the squabbling couple.
Watching them, unobserved, her thoughts returned to the
confrontation she had witnessed, and Kunou's bitterness over his sister.
He had said that she sought refuge from her pain in the pursuit of
love. Ranma's love, Nabiki thought sourly.
A coward, Kunou had called Ranma. A coward, an honourless cur, and
an unworthy man who didn't care about the women that chased him. Even
in her current dark mood, Nabiki knew that Kunou's evaluation of his
rival was exaggerated, twisted. But maybe not entirely wrong.
Perhaps she was being unfair, but Ranma really *could* be a jerk
sometimes. And he didn't seem disposed to put a stop to all the female
attention he was always getting, either, even when it hurt Akane.
Jealous, Nabiki? That tiny little voice chirped. She scowled,
because the voice was right. She hated the way they took all this for
granted, hated the way they treated what was between them. A chance for
caring, for love, and they treated it with an almost astonishing
casualness, as if it wasn't something incredibly precious. As if, if it
were to slip away, it wouldn't matter, because another chance would come
along right away.
And that might even be true, for them, and that made her even
angrier, even more jealous. Her secret, that jealousy. No one knew.
Well, that wasn't true. Ranko knew. Suddenly, she missed him.
She thought again of Kunou's judgement of Ranma, and thought that Ranma
certainly suffered in comparison to his counterpart. There was
something about Ranko's pain that let him understand and empathize
keenly with the pain of others.
She supposed that was part of why she had told him.
She'd been surprised how good it had felt, in a way, to admit that
she'd often sought to make Ranma miserable out of petty jealousy. She'd
expected him to be angry, but he'd actually been very understanding.
And what he'd done, in front of everybody when he'd been leaving, had
been so sweet.
Everybody had wanted to know what he'd whispered to her then, but
she wouldn't tell. He'd remembered the exact words she'd used, and fed
them back to her. She knew some of the girls now suspected she had a
thing for Ranko, but they were wrong.
("Nabiki Tendou, I must have you.")
A code, just between them. He hadn't forgotten what had passed
between them that day. He wanted her to hang in there. She smiled
sadly, remembering that moment. A friend. A real friend. And then,
just like that, he was gone. And now she needed him, needed to tell him
about the Kunou situation, needed to talk it out with someone who would
listen, someone who could try to help her understand this insane urge to
get involved.
She snapped out of her reverie as Ranma-chan and Akane started
laughing over something. She couldn't imagine ever talking to Ranma the
way she had to his counterpart. Ranma lacked some element of maturity
that she had found in Ranko. Still, something had changed in him since
Kodachi's death.
Is that it? she wondered silently. Ranko, Ranma, Kunou ... me? It
takes death to change us, to make us grow? Isn't there an easier way, a
cleaner way?
The two girls laughed again, and Nabiki felt very much alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akane was cautiously optimistic. She and Ranma had been fighting
over something, arguing, and then, suddenly, the tension had evaporated.
Where she might have thrown a hapless Ranma into the pond only a week
ago, or he might have called her an uncute tomboy, they'd suddenly
looked at each other and begun to laugh. She knew it wouldn't always be
so easy, but the very fact that it had happened reinforced in her mind
that things actually *had* changed between them.
They hadn't told anybody, and sometimes it hurt her that Ranma
still seemed unwilling to go so far as to demonstrate any affection for
her. But, she told herself, that's just Ranma. It'll take some time
for him to change, that's all. Just some time.
And moments like this, she actually believed that.
"Having fun?" They looked up to see Nabiki standing in the shadows
of the veranda, watching them. Something in Nabiki's tone made Akane
wary.
"Hey, Nabiki. Where were you? You missed supper."
"I had some things to take care of," she said, somewhat shortly.
"A profitable day, Nabiki?" Ranma-chan asked with false cheer,
apparently oblivious to the older girl's mood.
"Not especially," Nabiki said quietly. "Listen, I was wondering
what you two were planning to do about Kunou." Akane blinked
uncertainly.
"Do?" she echoed, confused.
"There's nothing to do, Nabiki," Ranma-chan told her. "He's locked
himself up in that stupid estate, and he doesn't want to see anyone.
He's even posted guards at the front gate." Nabiki snorted derisively.
"As if that would stop you if you really wanted to get in, Ranma.
Geez, the guy's all alone over there! Even his flake of a father's
deserted him, according to my sources. Don't you care?"
"Hey!" Ranma-chan returned, stung. "Since when are you such a big
Kunou booster, anyway? What's in this for you, Nabiki?" Akane drew a
sharp breath as she saw Nabiki's eyes narrow in anger. For some reason,
what Ranma-chan had said actually got to her.
"He and his sister put everything on the line to help you, to help
all of us, and now she's dead! And she loved you, doesn't that count
for anything?" Ranma-chan made a small strangled sound and flushed.
"Nabiki!" Akane cried. "That isn't fair!" Nabiki's glare
faltered, and Akane saw some of the tension drain from her slowly.
"You're right, sis. I didn't mean it that way, Ranma. It's just
that the guy is a total mess. You've got no idea."
"And you do?" Ranma-chan asked quietly.
"I was over there today, actually. Kunou had a visit from his
mother. It didn't go well." Akane and Ranma-chan traded dumbfounded
looks.
"Kunou has a mother?" Ranma-chan asked dumbly.
"I always assumed she was dead!" Akane said in wonder.
"She might as well be. Kunou doesn't want anything to do with her.
Damn it, Akane. Don't you remember how hard it was when our mother
died? We all had trouble dealing with it, but at least we had Daddy and
each other. Kunou has nobody except us to care about what happens to
him." Akane met Nabiki's gaze, feeling troubled. After all, Nabiki
wasn't saying anything that Akane hadn't already asked herself. She
remembered Ranma telling her the previous night that they couldn't help
Kunou if he didn't want to be helped, and wondered if that was really
true. Had they all really let Kunou down so badly?
"Maybe you're right," she said softly. Nabiki nodded.
"Maybe I am. Just think about it, would you? The guy always had a
thing for you, remember? A visit from you might do him some good." She
turned to Ranma-chan. "That goes for you, too, pig-tailed girl." Then
she turned and disappeared into the house.
"Damn, what was *that* all about?" Ranma-chan asked, anger and
confusion mixing freely.
"I don't know," Akane confessed. "But she could be right. Maybe
Kunou isn't in the best shape to be determining what's best for himself
right now. Maybe we owe it to him to make sure he's okay."
"I don't really think it's a good idea, Akane." Akane decided it
was time to get stubborn.
"What's this really about, Ranma?"
"What do you mean?" Ranma-chan sounded defensive, and Akane
pressed on.
"What Nabiki said bothered you, didn't it? Just because Kodachi
was in love with you doesn't make what happened your fault!" Ranma-chan
flushed and looked away, and Akane sighed. So that *was* it.
"Ranma, you didn't do anything wrong. You don't have to feel
guilty." Ranma-chan shuffled her feet nervously.
"Suppose Kunou doesn't see it that way, huh?" she asked. "I don't
want to have to fight the poor bastard, not after all he's been
through." Akane just shook her head.
"Look, you can go like you are now. At least if you see him, talk
to him, you'll feel like you've done something to try to put things
right. Kodachi is dead, Ranma. Kunou isn't. We can't do anything now
for her, but we can still help him. I've decided. I'm going for sure.
Will you go with me?" Ranma-chan sat, her posture stiff and unhappy,
head bowed. Akane waited patiently, not wanting to push any further.
Finally, Ranma-chan nodded, her pigtail flopping lightly against
the back of her shirt.
"I'm with you," she said quietly.
"Good. It'll be okay, Ranma. You'll see," Akane said.
She just wished she felt as certain as she sounded.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Call or don't call.
Nabiki's gaze shifted from her phone to the open notebook on her
desk.
Call or don't call. Those two options had been repeating
themselves in an idiotic mantra for the last ten minutes. She propped
her chin on her fist and sighed.
"Dammit, Nabiki, what the hell are you *doing*?" she groaned aloud.
It was bad enough she'd made such a stink in front of Ranma and Akane.
Now she was agonizing over a course of action which almost certainly
would gain her nothing, and could end up costing her a great deal.
Call or don't call.
After all, why should she be the one to dig into this thing? It
was bound to involve all sorts of messy emotional scenes, and dealing
with emotions, either hers or other people's, was definitely not her
strong suit. Leave it alone. Don't call. Clearly the best option.
Not her problem.
("What would your mother think if she were here, Nabiki? Do you
think she'd be proud of you? DO YOU?")
Nabiki closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
("Because I don't. I think she'd be ashamed to have a daughter
like you.")
"Stop it," she muttered. Her memories, however, were not so easily
quelled.
("You're wondering if you can carry on with business as usual,
knowing what you know about the effects it can have.")
She rubbed her palms over her face, sliding her fingers back under
her hair.
("Nabiki, I think you know exactly what to do, you just don't want
to do it.")
She kneaded her fingers into the stiff muscles of her neck, letting
her head fall forward limply.
("Are you a friend of my son's?")
"Good question," she whispered, dimly aware that she was talking to
herself, and that couldn't be good.
("If you care at all for Tatewaki, please help him. Please. He's
in terrible danger. Please.")
What *do* you care about, Nabiki? her little voice asked her. She
saw the girls again, money held out to her eagerly, and sighed. Slowly,
she leaned her head back, rotating it slowly to loosen her stiff neck
and shoulder muscles.
Call. Or don't call. But choose, because this is gonna drive you
crazy if you don't.
She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her head back up wearily.
If I don't do this, I'll never find out the truth, she told
herself. It'll remain a mystery. And I hate not knowing things.
If you say so, her inner voice said smugly, sensing what her
decision was.
She reached for the phone, looked up a number in her notebook, and
dialled.
"Shinji. Nabiki Tendou here. How'd you like a break on the terms
of your loan payments? No, I'm not feverish, smart-ass! You interested
or not? Good. It'll cost you a favour. You bought a computer with
that money, and word is you're a pretty fair hacker. Never mind how I
found that out. I need some information ..."
She set the wheels in motion, feeling a vague sense of some emotion
she didn't want to acknowledge.
But it might have been relief.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first golden rays of the rising sun caught Tatewaki Kunou
crouched by the inner wall of the estate. He carefully examined the
damaged ward that fluttered weakly in the gentle morning breeze. It
apparently had finally given way under several nights of probing. He
had been aware of the activity, of course, but did nothing to repair the
ward.
After all, he wanted the intruder to be able to enter the estate.
He just didn't want to make it too easy.
He straightened slowly, turning to the warm face of the rising sun,
his katana gripped tightly in one hand, his heart heavy with the grief
of the past week, and with the one last chore that lay ahead of him.
"Tonight, my friend," he said, speaking softly in the early morning
stillness. "It will be tonight."
And then he hardened his heart against his fate, for it did not
befit a warrior to cry.

End part one.
revised Aug. 22/97
Comments, criticisms, etc. welcome!