I Can See Clearly Now!
A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction
M. A. Davis, "Miko"
Co-plotted with Sky Rigdon and Jeffrey Cornish
More ideas from Catbert25 (aka Carrot Glace), Brendan, and Tom Hayes
Chapter Three: The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades!
After school, Nabiki went straight home and changed into jeans and a tee shirt. She had a lot to do in the next few days, and she didn't have any time to waste.
Akane was just arriving as Nabiki headed out. Pausing at the kitchen entrance, Nabiki said, "I won't be home for dinner for the next couple of days, Kasumi."
"Oh?" Kasumi looked up from her work. "Where will you be?"
"I've got a job," Nabiki said. "For a week, at least, maybe a lot longer than that."
"Oh, my! How nice!"
"You?" Akane said, pulling off her shoes. "Work? There must be more to it than just a job."
"Call it a business opportunity then."
"Ha! That sounds more likely."
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Nabiki said, and headed out the door.
***
A train ride and a ten-minute hike found Nabiki and Mousse in the hills above Tokyo. Mousse walked along quietly, while Nabiki cursed the mountains with each step.
"Mountains are for looking at, from a distance," Nabiki said. "Climbing them is always a bad idea."
"We're less than a kilometer up," Mousse replied. "I just wanted someplace remote to practice, that's all. Besides, the train ride is always relaxing."
"Whatever," Nabiki said. "If you ask me, a vacant lot would work just as well. Just climbing up here is a workout in itself."
I still don't know why you'd want to help me," Mousse said as they climbed. "I don't know whether to trust you or not."
Nabiki paused to look down over the city and the harbor, so busy with traffic.
"It's simple," Nabiki said, "Ranma and Akane are going to marry. Maybe you haven't noticed -- most people haven't -- but they really do like each other, despite everything. I don't pretend to understand it, but I can see it plainly enough. In any case, my father, and Mr. and Mrs. Saotome, are not to be denied, and Ranma understands honor and duty. So there you have it. The only question is, how long will it take?
"As for Shampoo, Ranma thinks she's good looking, but he also fears her a little. He doesn't love her. He'll never marry her.
"Now, I admit, I could care less whether you ever win Shampoo's hand, but it benefits us both if her pursuit of Ranma ends. I'm doing my sister and her indecisive fiancee a favor; you're making a huge step in your goal to wed Shampoo, and we both help Wing Ho, who's my partner now. Helping you helps me. Simple."
"Hmm," Mousse said. He picked up a rock and heaved it down the side of the mountain. "That makes sense," he said. "I knew it wasn't because you liked me or anything."
Nabiki laughed sharply. "Like you? Oh, Mousse... I know you don't have many friends, but you're a likable enough person. You're not motivated by greed, or pride, or honor, but by love. I can appreciate that."
*I appreciate that it makes you as easy to manipulate as someone motivated by greed, or pride, or honor,* she added to herself. *But it is kind of cute, in a pathetic puppy sort of way.*
Mousse smiled. "Thanks," he said, and then he frowned. "I only wish Shampoo could see that. Ranma is so vain, and egotistical, and perverted, and two-timing... even four-timing..."
"He's strong and he's honorable," Nabiki said. "To each his own."
"I have honor! I'm strong!"
Nabiki laughed again, and headed up the mountain. Mousse followed her.
"Honest, Nabiki! I defeated five opponents yesterday alone! True, most of them were of no account... but one of them was your kendoist friend!"
"He's not my friend," Nabiki replied quickly. "He's... a business interest. A client, if you will. And don't let him fool you; Kuno's got a lot of skill, but he also leaves openings you could sail a yacht through."
"So I noticed."
"Guys like you are supposed to beat guys like Kuno," Nabiki said.
Coming up over a hill, they found themselves in an open clearing. Scattered about were the splintered remains of many large pieces of wood.
"This is it, I take it," Nabiki said. Mousse nodded.
"Okay, then," Nabiki said. "You do whatever it is you do, and I'll sit over here and watch. Just act like I'm not here, okay?"
For the next forty-five minutes, Mousse savagely assaulted innocent wood. Unlike previous days, however, he didn't yell out any threats or curse Ranma's name to the heavens. Somehow, with Nabiki less than fifty meters off, it didn't seem appropriate.
Having worked up a good sweat, he took a breather. He washed his mouth out with water from a bottle, then walked over to where Nabiki waited patiently, taking notes.
"So," he said, "how am I going to beat Ranma?"
"I haven't a clue," she said.
"Aren't you supposed to be helping me train?"
"I'm not your coach," Nabiki said. "Trust me, I'd make a lousy coach. What I am good at is judging styles and ability. I'm here to get a better idea of what you can do, and then come up with new ways for you to attack Ranma. I'm your strategist, if you want to put it that way."
"Oh," Mousse said. He didn't know Nabiki to be a martial artist, but she did live at the Tendo Dojo. He had sort of hoped that she knew a secret technique or two.
"Come to think of it, you've never had any formal training, have you?" Nabiki said. "You've never studied under a master."
Mousse shook his head. "Cologne's never taught me anything, at least not directly."
"That's probably part of your problem," she said. "Ranma's had a lot of special training, by some of the best. It's hard to overcome that."
"You don't have to tell me that. I've had to deal with that my whole life."
Nabiki cocked an eye. "So, do they train men at all in your village?"
"Of course!" Mousse said. "Just because the women are taught to be strong, doesn't mean the men are taught to be weak! After all, the men have to defeat the women in order to marry them! But, generally, the men train themselves... and they don't train the weak. Because of my vision, no one wanted to train me, so I had to learn on my own."
"Well," Nabiki said, "Ryoga's self-taught too, so certainly it's possible."
Mousse went back to his training, concentrating on strength and conditioning skills. Finally he sat down on a stump, thoroughly exhausted.
"It's after five," he said. "I'm supposed to be at the Nekohanten for the dinner rush."
Nabiki stood. "That's okay," she said. "I've seen enough. This is all pointless."
Mousse frowned. "Pointless? I wouldn't be the warrior I am today without training like this."
"Exactly. The warrior you are will never beat the martial artist that Ranma is. Practicing by yourself will help you improve -- slowly. I can't wait that long. I want results, and you only get that by going up against someone more skilled than you.
"Look at Ranma. He's good because he routinely fights his father, and Happosai, and Ryoga, and... well, half of Nerima I suppose. Mr. Saotome, Happosai, and Cologne have all accelerated his development. For that matter, Ryoga's become much better since he first showed up. He fights Ranma nearly every week."
"I fight Ranma too!"
"Yes, but not as often, and it's frequently over before you've really begun. What we really need is someone for you to spar with, who's about equal with Ranma..."
***
While Mousse headed for the Nekohanten, Nabiki dropped by Wing Ho's Vision Clinic. She found the optometrist hunched over his bench, busily grinding away. He didn't even notice when she sat down at a nearby desk and began going through his books.
After twenty minutes she paused to rub her eyes. *Kami!* she thought. *It's a wonder this guy's managed to stay in business even two months! He's already racked up a significant amount of debt! Where does all of his money go?*
She went back through the books again, hoping to find some errors in their favor. Wing Ho's bookkeeping was atrocious. The only good news was that he'd already filled some of his orders from yesterday, and had taken partial payment on those he still needed to fill. Nabiki could make payments to the creditors and still have a good sum left over.
She glanced over at the hard-working lens grinder, noticing a half-empty bottle of expensive wine, and two empty bowls from the Nekohanten. On a whim, she wandered into the back of the shop, finding a small bedroom, a shower, a toilet, and an unused kitchen. The small refrigerator held nothing but take-out leftovers. The garbage held more containers from local take-out establishments, as well as more wine bottles.
Nabiki was beginning to suspect where all of Wing Ho's extra money went.
She returned to the desk and did some calculations. *If we limit ourselves to one bottle of wine a week,* she said, *and make it something cheap... and if we stop ordering take-out every night, we should actually start making a profit here,* she thought.
She considered the sum of money they currently had. *It never hurts to hedge your bets,* she thought with a smile. *If I invest some of this in the stock market, I just might provide some stability to this little operation."
"Oh, Nabiki!" Wing Ho called out, glancing up. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough," Nabiki said. "I've been going over your books."
"Oh! Well, good. I don't like to do that myself."
"I can tell."
Wing laughed. He began polishing another lens.
"How's the training with Mousse going?"
"So far, so good."
"That's good to hear. He's an exceptional fighter, you know. I really can't see how this Ranma person could actually beat him. Maybe he's just been lucky so far."
"No," Nabiki said.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite. Ranma is, in fact, one of the more unlucky people I've ever met. No. Mousse is good, but this one little corner of Tokyo holds some of the greatest martial artists you're likely to ever see. Ranma might need luck against a Happosai, or a Ryoga, and definitely against a Tarou, but he's never needed luck to defeat Mousse."
"I'll believe it when I see it," the optometrist replied. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and looked up. "You take bets on fights, right?"
"That's right."
"Good. I want to bet on Mousse!"
Nabiki sighed. "Wing, you're already gambling the future of your company on this fight. Why risk more than that?"
"Because I believe in Mousse! He's going to win, I just know it!"
"Okay, it's your funeral." Nabiki drew a small black book out of her purse. "I'm giving odds of fifteen to one, in favor of Ranma."
"What? Such good odds? How can you afford to do that?"
"Well, for one thing," Nabiki said, "I've taken over a hundred bets, and you're the first to pick Mousse..."
***
The last of the lunch customers walked out of the Nekohanten, and Shampoo began busing the tables. Normally busing tables and washing dishes was Mousse's job, but for the last several days he'd been leaving after lunch to go train at his new mountain hideout. Shampoo did not particularly like it, but Mousse worked for free, and therefore set his own hours. As long as he returned for the dinner rush, Cologne allowed it.
Shampoo hadn't failed to notice his improved vision the last few days. Since donning his new goggles, he had yet to mistake another person or thing for her even once. All his confessions of love had been delivered directly to her, rather than to someone in her general vicinity.
It was nice, in a way. Shampoo appreciated hearing how much Mousse loved her. After all, as the most beautiful and talented Joketsuzoku girl in a generation or two, she was used to receiving compliments. Unfortunately, Tokyo was a far bigger place than her home village, and the only compliments she received here were from sex-starved customers, and Mousse, and Cologne.
*If only Ranma would speak to me that way,* she thought. Holding a tray to her chest, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine it. One day, she was certain, he would say those words. Her pairing with Ranma -- perhaps the greatest male and female martial artists of their generation -- was inevitable. Ranma would see that eventually. In the meantime, Shampoo thought of ways to speed up the process a little, and dreamed of what that day would be like.
On that day, Ranma would turn to her with love in his eyes, and say...
"Shampoo! I love you! Your beauty rivals the morning sun!"
Shampoo frowned. Ranma sounded nothing like that. Mousse, on the other hand...
Her eyes flew open. Anger flared within them.
"Stupid Mousse!" she yelled, throwing the tray at his head. Mousse caught it easily, and flipped it onto the countertop.
"Well, I'm off to train!" he said. "I'll be back by the dinner rush!"
Shampoo watched as her childhood friend stepped outside and disappeared into the crowd.
<He certainly is training hard,> she said in her native tongue. <I wonder what he's up to?>
Cologne hopped up onto the counter. "He's planning another fight with Son-In-Law," she said.
"Aiya! <Great-Grandmother, are you certain?>"
Cologne's ever-present staff whipped out and rapped Shampoo across the knuckles, lightly. "Shampoo! Remember what I told you about speaking only in Japanese? How will you learn the language if you don't speak it?"
Shampoo frowned. "I sorry, Great Grandmother," she said. In truth she was not quite as bad at Japanese as she appeared to be, something that, apparently, even her great grandmother hadn't realized yet. Shampoo's grasp of the language had steadily improved over the last year, but not her use of it. She had a strong suspicion that Ranma found her pidgin Japanese cute, and it had the added advantage of making others underestimate her. She used both to her advantage.
"That's better," the matriarch replied. "As for how I know, I heard Mousse talking in his sleep. When he trains this hard, he always talks in his sleep."
"That right. Shampoo remember now."
"In any case, he does nothing but plan to fight Ranma..."
Shampoo nodded. She hauled the last of the dishes into the kitchen and dumped them into the sink. As she watched them disappear beneath the sudsy water, her great grandmother spoke again.
"Nabiki Tendo's helping him, and that eye doctor also."
Shampoo's eyes went wide. "Mousse have help? No wonder he so good all of sudden!"
"Don't worry," Cologne said. "Mousse can train all he wants. He will never be good enough to take Son-In-Law."
"That true," Shampoo said, smiling in satisfaction. Nobody could take her betrothed in a fair fight. Nobody.
*My airen,* she thought, *when will you finally be mine? When?*
***
"Mousse? Nabiki? What are you two doing all the way down here?"
Mousse, having just disemboweled a very threatening log, paused to glance over his shoulder. There stood Ryoga Hibiki, Ranma's "other" rival.
Nearby, Nabiki sprung to her feet, like a cat that had just spotted something small, furry, and edible. "Ryoga!" she said. "Your timing, as always, is probably completely coincidental, but I'm glad you're here! I need you to fight Mousse."
Ryoga glanced from the middle Tendo sister to the Chinese hidden weapons expert. A look of utter confusion crossed his face.
"Um..." he said.
"Ryoga," Mousse said, bowing, "I'm greatly honored that you've come to spar with me."
The wind, blowing through the trees and over the rocky hillside, tugged at the edges of Mousse's white robe. It caused the nearby dry grass to toss about like the waves of a golden ocean. Mousse regarded Ryoga calmly, bladed chains dangling from his sleeves notwithstanding.
"Fight you?" Ryoga said. "Why would I want to fight you?"
"Didn't you come here to fight me?" the Chinese boy replied. He spread his arms to take in the rocks and trees, dragging chains through the dust. "This is where I train, Ryoga Hibiki. Why did you come here, if not to help me train?"
Ryoga scratched his head in confusion. "Look, Mousse, Nabiki... I was just looking for a pottery shop I visited once... why do you train so far south of Tokyo, anyway?"
Mousse frowned. His conversations with Ranma's "other" chief rival were few and far between. He didn't remember any of them being quite this confusing. Mostly they consisted of things like "curse that Ranma!" and "let's team up". Nothing like this.
"Exactly where do you think you are, Ryoga?" Nabiki asked.
"Um," Ryoga said hesitantly, "The southern coast of Kyushuu?"
Nabiki sighed, placing a hand to her forehead.
"I guess I'm not very close, huh?" Ryoga said, laughing nervously.
"No," Nabiki said, "but that hardly matters. I was looking for you. Mousse here is training for an upcoming fight..."
Ryoga nodded. "Um, if you'll excuse me, Nabiki, I really don't have the time...."
"I'm sure you've got a lot of random wandering to accomplish," Nabiki said, "but I need you to change your plans."
"No, sorry." Ryoga looked about. "Where are we, exactly?"
Mousse pointed in the direction of the sea. "That city down there?"
Ryoga nodded.
"Tokyo."
Ryoga's eyes grew wide. "Then I'm not in Kyushu at all? No wonder I couldn't find that shop!"
Mousse returned to his interrupted training exercises. Gathering up his chains, he sent them flying into the offending log.
"It doesn't matter how you got here," Mousse said, matter-of-factly. "I'm training for my upcoming battle with Ranma...."
"Come on," Nabiki said. "One fight. For my sake."
"Sorry, not today," Ryoga said. "Mousse, you challenged Ranma? Again?"
Mousse frowned. "No. Didn't you hear me? I'm in training for my fight. If I challenge him first, then he'll start training too. I'd never catch up to his level."
` "For Akane's sake, then, if not mine," Nabiki said.
"Akane's not here," Ryoga said. "Ha! As if you'll ever be as good as Ranma, Mousse!"
"Shut up! Did you come here just to insult me?"
"Fine," Nabiki said. "I don't really like doing this, Ryoga, but... I can pay you, if you want."
"No. I mean you no insult, Mousse, but you know as well as I that Ranma's practically unbeatable. I'm the only one who can really take him on. Your best chance of defeating him was back when you first fought him. Since then, he's become much more dangerous. As have I."
"That's what I'm counting on," Mousse replied. "I've been improving too. I want to challenge Ranma, but first, I want to know if I've really improved enough to beat him. If you don't mind, I'd like to try myself against you, to see how I'm doing."
"No, sorry," Ryoga said. "What's Mousse got to do with you, anyway, Nabiki?"
"I'm helping him train," Nabiki said.
The itinerant martial artist raised an eyebrow. "Getting pretty desperate there, eh, Mousse?"
"You shut up!"
"Well, have fun then," Ryoga said, turning to go. "I need to find that pottery shop before it closes."
"Ryoga! That shop must be hundreds of kilometers away! Across water, yet!"
"In which direction?"
"One sparring match," Nabiki said. "Just one. I'll give you directions afterward."
"See ya," Ryoga said. "I'm bound to find it eventually."
"Okay," Nabiki said, "if that's the way you want to play it... P-Chan."
Ryoga froze in mid-step.
"You've really left me no choice here, Ryoga," she continued. "You won't fight for friendship, or money, or a return favor... but you'll fight to keep your secret safe from Akane... won't you, P-Chan?"
Ryoga spun about.
"Nabiki Tendo, if you ever tell Akane, I'll...."
"Please," Nabiki said. "Spare me the histrionics. You won't strike me, and anything more devious is out of your league. Now, is what I'm asking really so much? Thirty minutes of your time, that's all."
"Well," Ryoga said, glancing back at Mousse. "I don't know. It seems kind of pointless. I've never really had a quarrel with Mousse. He wants Shampoo, and as far as I'm concerned, he can have her. I want... I mean, I like... someone else... and he doesn't. Why should we fight?"
"I thought you had Ikari now," Nabiki said.
"Oh," Ryoga said. He laughed nervously. "Well, I like her too. I mean, she really likes me, in spite of my curse... or maybe because of my curse... while Akane... huh. I guess you're right. I do have Ikari...."
Mousse flipped his hair back. "Pheh! You're as bad as Ranma these days!" he said.
"I am not!" Ryoga threw his backpack down. "You take that back!"
Nabiki's smiled. "Now, why didn't I think of that sooner?" she said quietly. "I must be losing my touch..."
Ryoga settled into a fighter's crouch. "I'm gonna make you pay for saying that, Mousse!" he growled.
"Good! Finally," Mousse replied, shifting into a defensive pose. "I was wondering when you were going to begin...."
***
In the Tendo Dojo, Ranma sneezed.
"Somebody's talking about you," Akane said, teasingly.
"Don't I know it," Ranma replied. "Probably one of my stupid rivals...."
He sneezed again.
***
Mousse had never been able to trade punches with the likes of Ranma and Ryoga. He simply wasn't fast enough, or strong enough, or skilled enough. However, when it came to hidden weapons, Mousse recognized no equal, and in any fight his myriad of deadly devices helped level the playing field for him. More than once he'd pushed Ranma right to the edge before finally succumbing, and, while he didn't quite have Ryoga's ability to ignore traumatic abuse, his love for Shampoo often kept him going when he should logically be unconscious, if not actually dead.
Something was different. This time, he could see Ryoga's attacks coming at him, as clear as day. The itinerant martial artist might as well have been demonstrating his style, rather than actually using it. If Ryoga had set up a movie screen and overhead projector, and explained what he was going to do using simple charts and graphs, it could not have been more clear.
Mousse watched in fascination as the blows landed on his chest and face. He flew across the clearing and crashed into a tree. The impact shocked him... or rather, it unshocked him, snapping him out of his sudden daze.
He stood, rubbing his chin. "I actually saw that coming," he said, amazed.
"Then why didn't you dodge it?"
"I've never really seen a punch coming at me like that," Mousse replied. "It was a little startling, that's all."
"You'd better get used to it, then," Ryoga said.
The Chinese amazon boy nodded, and assumed a defensive stance. "Okay," he said, "try that again!"
Two seconds later, Mousse was staring up at the sky. Nearby, what had once been a young tree was now so much splintered kindling.
"This is going to take some getting used to," he said, half to himself.
"This is pointless, Mousse," Ryoga said. "You're good, but not good enough. If you can't provide some sort of challenge, then why should I fight you? I'll learn nothing by beating you into a bloody pulp. And unlike with Ranma, there's no satisfaction involved."
"Give me a moment!" Mousse said, getting back up. "This takes a little getting used to! Seeing everything as it happens is disorienting, that's all. I've never needed to see to fight before."
Mousse stood, rubbing his chest. "Ow! That stings! Not even Ranma punches that hard."
"Are you going to fight, or talk?" Ryoga snarled. He crouched and held his hands out. "Come on! If we're going to go through with this, then quit stalling and fight me!"
It took several attempts, but Mousse got better. He was learning to read and react to Ryoga's attacks. By the end of their sparring, Mousse was able to avoid just about every attack Ryoga launched.
On the flip side, better vision did not markedly improve his offensive abilities. He could move no faster, and he was no stronger, than before. He could launch attacks more accurately, but he'd always managed to be pretty accurate anyway.
"Your defense has improved dramatically," Ryoga conceded. "But your offense..."
"I know. I guess I'm not really ready to take on Ranma, huh?"
"Take on?" Ryoga replied. "Sure. Defeat? No, you're not ready to do that. You'll avoid more of Ranma's attacks, but you aren't going to surprise him with anything else new. You need to work on improving your offense, or Ranma will shatter you like this." Ryoga tapped the rock next to him, and a 1-foot diameter section of it exploded into tiny fragments.
"The Bakusai Tenketsu -- blasting point. I've never understood how you do that," Mousse said. "You don't seem to hit the rock nearly hard enough to smash it so."
"Hasn't Cologne shown you?"
"That old ghoul won't show me anything," Mousse said. "She won't even let me near the stove."
"I'm not smashing it at all," Ryoga said. "All you have to do is find the weak point. If you can see that, then even a little pressure can cause the rock to practically explode on it's own. But, you know, it's not all that useful of a technique. You wind up being right in the vicinity of the blast most of the time."
"See the weak point, huh?" Mousse stared intently at the rock next to him. He could see every detail of the rock with crystal clarity. "If that's the case... I'd say that the weak point of this rock is right here." He placed a finger on the rock, and it shattered into a thousand fragments.
Ryoga's eyes bulged, and Mousse looked startled. Nearby, Nabiki sat straight up.
"How did you do that?" Ryoga asked. "That trick took me a week of hard training to learn!'
Mousse shrugged. "You know, I've been seeing things much better lately...."
***
Mousse and Nabiki walked the streets of Nerima in the evening, discussing the problem of how to defeat Ranma. Mousse became so engrossed in the subject that he didn't immediately realize that they weren't headed to the Nekohanten. He came to an abrupt stop.
"This is the wrong way," he said.
"Don't worry," Nabiki said. "I'm taking you to dinner, my treat. We've got a lot to discuss."
"But I need to get back for the dinner rush. Cologne will kill me if I don't."
"Mousse," Nabiki said, "it's okay. I called Ranma from the train station. He owes me a favor... well, he owes me several hundred favors, if you want to know the truth... anyway, he/she will fill in for you tonight."
"Ranma's there? With Shampoo?" Mousse clenched his fists.
Nabiki grabbed his sleeve and started dragging him down the street. "RELAX, Mousse. It's onna-Ranma we're talking about, and it's the middle of dinner rush. Nothing's going to happen. Anyway, just remember: a few more days and you can get rid of Ranma for good."
"If we can figure out a way to do it," he said, morosely.
A few minutes later he came to another abrupt halt. "Nabiki," he said, "I can't go in there!"
"Come on," Nabiki said. "We need to talk strategy away from Shampoo and Cologne. They'll only try to stop us if they catch on, but they'll never find us here. It's the safest place I can think of. Besides, Ukyo is Shampoo's rival, not yours, and she owes me a favor, too."
Reluctantly Mousse followed Nabiki into U-Chan's.
"I've never actually been in here before," he said, looking around. "Do they have ramen?"
"No, of course not. This is an okonomiyaki-ya."
"I'm not familiar with your strange Japanese foods."
"There's nothing strange about it!" Nabiki said, exasperated. "Is ramen all you ever eat?"
"No," Mousse said. "I'll gladly eat anything prepared by the hands of my love... but that's usually ramen." His face assumed a look of rapture. "When she's in a good mood," he said, "she lets me eat it the same day she makes it!"
Nabiki made a face. "Mousse, if you want me to have any respect for you at all, you'd better stop telling me the details of your relationship with Shampoo."
"I'll suffer any indignity to be with my love!"
"Yes. That's part of the problem, isn't it?"
The two sat down in front of the grill. Konatsu was tending two other tables. "Be there in a minute!" the effeminate ninja called out.
Mousse was still trying to work out the meaning of Nabiki's last statement, when Ukyo appeared from the back of the shop.
"I've got it, Konatsu!" Ukyo said. She smiled sweetly as she turned to take their order, then paused. She looked at Mousse, then at Nabiki, and raised her eyebrows.
"Keep your thoughts to yourself," Nabiki said. "This is strictly business."
"Isn't it always," Ukyo said. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Two okonomiyaki, please. Just the standard. This will cancel your debt with me, okay?"
"Until next time, anyway," Ukyo said, already pouring the okonomiyaki mix onto the grill.
"Right," Nabiki said. "Until next time." Seeing Mousse watching her curiously, she added, "I'm in a position to do favors for certain people. Ukyo, Shampoo... even Kodachi, on occasion."
A flash of anger crossed Mousse's face. "Of course," he said in a controlled voice.
"So," Ukyo said, "business, is it? Is something big going down? Another fight? Let me guess... Mousse and Ran-chan again?"
"I've had only one goal since I came to Tokyo," Mousse said. "You know that. I'm here to win Shampoo's hand, whatever it takes."
"Tell me about it, sugar. So, Nabiki, how much for advanced warning? I want my okonomiyaki stand front and center."
"The usual fee will do," Nabiki said. "I'll let you know when the time comes."
"Thanks, Nabiki." Ukyo plopped two steaming okonomiyaki on plates in front of them. "See? You haven't even eaten, and I'm already in your debt again!"
Mousse studied his meal warily. He watched as Nabiki bit into hers, then finally took a bite himself.
"Hey," he said, after swallowing, "that's pretty good!"
"You'd better believe it! I'm the best in Nerima, sugar!"
Mousse dug in enthusiastically. He finished it quickly, then polished off a second. He waited while Nabiki continued to work on her first. Growing bored, he pulled some rocks from his sleeves and lined them up at the edge of the table. One by one, he poked them, and they exploded into tiny shards.
"Hey," Ukyo said, "that's Ryoga's trick! How did you learn that?"
"It's a long story," Mousse said. "It hardly matters anyway. If Ryoga can't use the Bakusai Tenketsu to defeat Ranma, it sure isn't going to help me."
"You're right," Nabiki said, finished with her meal. "There's no two ways about it. Better vision allows you to dodge attacks much faster, but unless you can come up with a new attack of your own, it's not going to be enough. Learning the Blasting Point isn't going to cut it."
"Sure is a neat trick 'though," Ukyo said. "I'm sure I wouldn't mind being able to do it. How does it work?"
"Find the weakest part of the rock," Mousse said. "Apply pressure, and zap!"
"Do you suppose it requires human touch?" Nabiki asked.
"Huh? What you mean?"
"I mean, could you poke it with a stick? Hit it with a throwing knife?"
"I don't think so," Mousse said. "As far as I know, it requires physical touch."
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," Nabiki said. "What do you think, Ukyo?"
"Are you asking me to help you defeat Ran-chan?" Ukyo said. "I'm not about to do that, you know."
"If Mousse wins, it's one less rival you have to contend with."
"It will work!" Ukyo said enthusiastically. "You're not doing anything special with your fingers except applying pressure, and you can do that with anything. Of course, it would probably take someone with phenomenal vision and an incredible accuracy...."
***
In the hills above Tokyo, Mousse stood in a clearing, eyes closed, composing himself, centering his chi. To his right, at a distance of fifty meters, a small boulder sat. Another rested at an equal distance to his left, and there were two set before him, and two behind, each large enough to come to his waist. It had taken quite a bit of work, most of the morning, in fact, to arrange them properly.
Nearby, Nabiki stood, watching impassively.
In an instant his eyes flew open. His body spun. His hands shot out, and spiked weapons on chains flew in all directions. There were six in all. Each flew unerringly to its target. Each struck a boulder, with enough force to produce a loud clang.
Only there was no clang. Instead, there was a loud roar as six boulders exploded into a hail of fragments.
"Not a useful technique?" Mousse said to himself as the dust settled. "Too close to the vicinity of the blast? Perhaps, if you use your hands. But my body is a weapon, and my weapons are a part of my body...."
Nabiki smiled in satisfaction. "Now that," she said, "is something nobody else can do. With a new attack, better vision, better accuracy, and a quicker reaction to his attacks... I think you might actually have a chance."
Mousse clenched his fists, a powerful surge of joy rushing through him. "Yes! YES! YES! Oh, Shampoo, tomorrow is the last day that we shall be apart! After tomorrow, Ranma Saotome will be defeated, and you, my love, will be mine!"
I Can See Clearly Now Chapter 4
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