Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Nabiki - Dark Justice ❯ Dark Circumstance ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: SoulSurvivor 
And so it begins...
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.01.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 709 | Status: Completed
And so it begins...
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.01.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 709 | Status: Completed
Nabiki--Dark Justice
by Soul Survivor
-----
Disclaimer: The rights to Ranma 1/2 belong to Rumiko Takahashi and any others that she has liscenced them to.
Black Hood is the property of Dark Horse Comics
-----
Chapter One
Nabiki was scared shitless. Of all the things to happen around her, this had to be the absolute worst.
All she'd wanted was a quiet night away from the madness of Nerima, and when Toshi'd invited her to a concert in Tokyo, she'd jumped at the chance. Now Toshi was dead and if the Tong creeps they'd stumbled on saw her face, there'd be no place she could hide.
Of all the stupid shit, Toshi just HAD to play hero when some punk got pushy on the dance floor. Sure, how was he to know the little snotball had friends? Still... The bastard and his butt-bodies jumped them on their way to the train station, and for once Toshi did the smart thing, he'd grabbed her and they'd hauled ass like there was no tomorrow. They'd almost made it, too, then Lady Luck just had to piss on their parade.
Their midnight run had left them lost in the warehouse district, and Toshi had made the mistake of approaching the first group they'd come across in hopes of borrowing a phone to call the cops. It wasn't his fault really; he was simply naive. He couldn't have known he was walking in on a major drug deal. Luckily for her, she'd been a bit suspicious, and had ducked behind a dumpster before they had seen her. Toshi, however...
The muffled "phut" of a silenced pistol and the blood spraying from the exit wound in Toshi's head would haunt her for the rest of her life. Now here she was, trapped like a rat... The only way out was past a group of gun toting thugs, and if they saw her, she would never be safe again.
"Now would be a great time, Ranma... Hell, I'd settle for Kuno right about now." Of course, it wasn't likely to happen, not at all... Unlike Nerima, Tokyo didn't have an over-abundance of uber-martial artists to save the day when things got a little hairy. Besides, these goons had guns, and as good as the Nerima crew were, no one could outrun a bull...
He came out of the shadows, an avenging angel, twin pistols blazing and an executioner's hood covering his features. For a moment he seemed invincible, moving with a speed and skill to rival any Nerimian, his blows sending men flying, the crunch of breaking bones clear even to where she hid. But as strong and fast as he was, he didn't have eyes in the back of his head. It all ended with a single shot, as her savior was flung forward by the impact of a high caliber round. He tried to get up, but the remaining thugs fired round after round into him, driving him into the ground, till he moved no more.
Shuddering, she watched as they pulled the hood off of his head, revealing the pain twisted face of a nameless gaijin. One of them tossed the hood towards the dumpster and she stifled a shriek when it landed on her... Unfortunately, not well enough. Immediately two of the men turned towards her with pistols drawn, then cautiously approached.
There was no time for rational thought. In a panic, she grabbed the hood, pulling it on to hide her face in the desperate hope of dashing past them to freedom. Then, everything changed...
As the hood settled into place, she felt an icy anger fill her, washing away her previous terror, as if it had never existed at all. Instead of her planned escape, she found herself vaulting over the dumpster, her heel crushing the nearest thug's jaw like crystal with a devastating flying kick. Landing, she drove her knee into his partner's gut, folding him almost double as his feet left the floor. Without conscious thought, his gun was in her hand and firing.
Hitting the floor and rolling, she was in their midst before they could react, her childhood training in her family's art suddenly clear in her mind. Fists and feet lashing out with deadly precision, complemented at need by the pistol in her hand, she dropped them one by one. Taking a lesson from her predecessor, she made a point of keeping her back covered, for while there was no fear of death within her, there was a brutal survival instinct, backed by a predatorial drive to kill... Kill?
Stopping cold, she watched as the last of the thugs collapsed to the floor. Surveying the carnage about her, she felt the pistol slip from nerveless fingers and bile rise in her throat. Out of over a dozen men, one was breathing, and the unnatural angle of his neck told her that it wouldn't be for long. They were murdering scum, but that was no excuse...
Tearing the hood from her head, she stared at it in utter revulsion. Then, hauling back to throw it as far from her as possible, she froze, her father's voice echoing in her mind. "It is a martial artist's duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
While not having practiced the art for years, she was still her father's daughter. What she held in her hand was power, a deadly power, yes, but then again, no deadlier than the school to which Ranma and her sister were heirs. Yes, she had killed, but then, would... No, COULD Ranma or Akane have avoided doing so under the circumstances? Maybe... Then again, maybe not.
Once again, she surveyed her surroundings, this time taking into account the briefcases busted open during the fight. One was full of yen notes, several million from the look of it, the other, clear wrapped bricks of white powder, cocaine or heroin, she couldn't tell which. Then she forced herself to look at Toshi's body, his final look of shock frozen on his face.
While little more than friends, his death was a blow to her, one that would take her time to recover from. If nothing else, his murder was avenged, in that she could take a cold comfort at least. That, and the poison those bastards were peddling would never see the streets, an anonymous phone call would see to that.
Stuffing the hood into her purse, she was about to go when a thought struck her. The drugs were one thing, but the money, on the other hand, would do no one any good sitting in an evidence room...
Grabbing the case, she was relieved to find that it would close again, then, pausing only long enough to wipe clean the pistol she had used, she left the alley in search of a phone.
tbc
-------------
I will be continuing this.
by Soul Survivor
-----
Disclaimer: The rights to Ranma 1/2 belong to Rumiko Takahashi and any others that she has liscenced them to.
Black Hood is the property of Dark Horse Comics
-----
Chapter One
Nabiki was scared shitless. Of all the things to happen around her, this had to be the absolute worst.
All she'd wanted was a quiet night away from the madness of Nerima, and when Toshi'd invited her to a concert in Tokyo, she'd jumped at the chance. Now Toshi was dead and if the Tong creeps they'd stumbled on saw her face, there'd be no place she could hide.
Of all the stupid shit, Toshi just HAD to play hero when some punk got pushy on the dance floor. Sure, how was he to know the little snotball had friends? Still... The bastard and his butt-bodies jumped them on their way to the train station, and for once Toshi did the smart thing, he'd grabbed her and they'd hauled ass like there was no tomorrow. They'd almost made it, too, then Lady Luck just had to piss on their parade.
Their midnight run had left them lost in the warehouse district, and Toshi had made the mistake of approaching the first group they'd come across in hopes of borrowing a phone to call the cops. It wasn't his fault really; he was simply naive. He couldn't have known he was walking in on a major drug deal. Luckily for her, she'd been a bit suspicious, and had ducked behind a dumpster before they had seen her. Toshi, however...
The muffled "phut" of a silenced pistol and the blood spraying from the exit wound in Toshi's head would haunt her for the rest of her life. Now here she was, trapped like a rat... The only way out was past a group of gun toting thugs, and if they saw her, she would never be safe again.
"Now would be a great time, Ranma... Hell, I'd settle for Kuno right about now." Of course, it wasn't likely to happen, not at all... Unlike Nerima, Tokyo didn't have an over-abundance of uber-martial artists to save the day when things got a little hairy. Besides, these goons had guns, and as good as the Nerima crew were, no one could outrun a bull...
He came out of the shadows, an avenging angel, twin pistols blazing and an executioner's hood covering his features. For a moment he seemed invincible, moving with a speed and skill to rival any Nerimian, his blows sending men flying, the crunch of breaking bones clear even to where she hid. But as strong and fast as he was, he didn't have eyes in the back of his head. It all ended with a single shot, as her savior was flung forward by the impact of a high caliber round. He tried to get up, but the remaining thugs fired round after round into him, driving him into the ground, till he moved no more.
Shuddering, she watched as they pulled the hood off of his head, revealing the pain twisted face of a nameless gaijin. One of them tossed the hood towards the dumpster and she stifled a shriek when it landed on her... Unfortunately, not well enough. Immediately two of the men turned towards her with pistols drawn, then cautiously approached.
There was no time for rational thought. In a panic, she grabbed the hood, pulling it on to hide her face in the desperate hope of dashing past them to freedom. Then, everything changed...
As the hood settled into place, she felt an icy anger fill her, washing away her previous terror, as if it had never existed at all. Instead of her planned escape, she found herself vaulting over the dumpster, her heel crushing the nearest thug's jaw like crystal with a devastating flying kick. Landing, she drove her knee into his partner's gut, folding him almost double as his feet left the floor. Without conscious thought, his gun was in her hand and firing.
Hitting the floor and rolling, she was in their midst before they could react, her childhood training in her family's art suddenly clear in her mind. Fists and feet lashing out with deadly precision, complemented at need by the pistol in her hand, she dropped them one by one. Taking a lesson from her predecessor, she made a point of keeping her back covered, for while there was no fear of death within her, there was a brutal survival instinct, backed by a predatorial drive to kill... Kill?
Stopping cold, she watched as the last of the thugs collapsed to the floor. Surveying the carnage about her, she felt the pistol slip from nerveless fingers and bile rise in her throat. Out of over a dozen men, one was breathing, and the unnatural angle of his neck told her that it wouldn't be for long. They were murdering scum, but that was no excuse...
Tearing the hood from her head, she stared at it in utter revulsion. Then, hauling back to throw it as far from her as possible, she froze, her father's voice echoing in her mind. "It is a martial artist's duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
While not having practiced the art for years, she was still her father's daughter. What she held in her hand was power, a deadly power, yes, but then again, no deadlier than the school to which Ranma and her sister were heirs. Yes, she had killed, but then, would... No, COULD Ranma or Akane have avoided doing so under the circumstances? Maybe... Then again, maybe not.
Once again, she surveyed her surroundings, this time taking into account the briefcases busted open during the fight. One was full of yen notes, several million from the look of it, the other, clear wrapped bricks of white powder, cocaine or heroin, she couldn't tell which. Then she forced herself to look at Toshi's body, his final look of shock frozen on his face.
While little more than friends, his death was a blow to her, one that would take her time to recover from. If nothing else, his murder was avenged, in that she could take a cold comfort at least. That, and the poison those bastards were peddling would never see the streets, an anonymous phone call would see to that.
Stuffing the hood into her purse, she was about to go when a thought struck her. The drugs were one thing, but the money, on the other hand, would do no one any good sitting in an evidence room...
Grabbing the case, she was relieved to find that it would close again, then, pausing only long enough to wipe clean the pistol she had used, she left the alley in search of a phone.
tbc
-------------
I will be continuing this.