Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ One straw ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

One Straw

Chapter 2

Disclaimer)- This is a lawyer, and this be a law suit. Never the twain shall meet as I claim before all that I don't own anything.

He could almost taste freedom like a sweet healing draught that he desperately needed to drain to the dregs to heal the wounds deep inside. He just had another short wait while the officials processed his papers, and then he'd be ready to step into a whole new world.

Even the air smelled different here, a little processed with a subtle chemical tang but overlaid by the masses of people that traveled through here day in and day out. The man had never seen such a profusion of different races, so many different colours and religions, surely he'd find acceptance in this country.

He took a step as the line progressed and another person entered the terminal proper. The man sighed as his patience was stretched, so close, the people he'd left behind would never track him here, they were resourceful he knew, but here, he felt safe.

He suddenly became alert, something was happening, or about to, call it a sixth sense, call it what you like, but he knew it. Up ahead, someone's nerves were being stretched, the lady in red? No, not her, maybe the man in front of her, he, yes he's the one, but what's he planning? He watched as the man got more and more nervous as the line approached the customs officers at the head of the line, two people to go before he reached them, then only one. The man coiled prepared for action as the big blond man was directed to place his bag on the table to be examined, seems they already figured he was up to something. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the man begin to bend his knees, which ways he going, he's gotta know he can't escape. Jeez right back towards me, damn fool. As the sprinting man came even he swung his arm up and into the mans chest and watched in satisfaction as the mans feet left the ground. Almost faster than those watching could follow his other hand flashed out and grabbed the mans arm and twisted while the arm that had clothes-lined the man grabbed his belt and eased him to the ground almost like a feather, even though the burly blond outweighed him by a good forty kilos. Then everything seemed to speed back up to normal and all hell broke loose.

Armed guards drew their weapons as they prepared to give chase only to watch as a short Asian man almost casually slammed the guy so hard he spun around the point of impact then faster than they could believe their runner was down on the ground and fully restrained. To Curt Hansen it looked like the man ran into a girder, and the Asians arm didn't even budge, what the hell happened? Not one to question a good thing too much he joined the other customs officers as they rushed towards the suspected mule.

He looked up as he was surrounded by three men in dark uniforms with their weapons drawn and aimed he wasn't in any kind of mood to argue with them, he released the mans arm from where he'd had it in a submission hold and raised his hands slightly showing he wasn't going to try anything, not that he would have anyway. He cocked his head to the side as he tried to understand what was being said. Alright he understood `Stop!' but the rest was meaningless.

“Someone get a translator in here,” He ran through a few Asian country names and watched as the Asian mans eyes lit up at Japanese. “Get Kuzinori over here, the man's Japanese. No body else move!” This to the bystanders who to be honest were too busy staring at the scene to be frightened by the drawn guns. Most of them were excitedly thinking that what they'd seen on television must be true, after all they weren't even in the country yet and here was something straight out of one of those reality shows.

The man who still knelt over the big blond felt his danger sense go off the scale and couldn't figure out what it was, he'd missed something, or maybe someone? Not likely he scanned the crowd looking for something out of the ordinary but didn't have a clue as to where to start, everything was out of the ordinary to him. His eyes never stopped moving and the customs men were getting nervous, this man looked like he was about to make a run for it himself, after years of honed experience they could read him like a book, or so they thought.

His sense of danger was such that he knew he had to do something so he refined his senses to the absolute essentials, disregarding as much superfluous stimuli as possible his search suddenly narrowed to a cone that originated at him and spread out towards the front of the line, there were only four people in front of him and one customs officer, and everyone was watching him, then it caught his eye, that's it, and he moved. Dodging around the near stationary customs officer who reached out in slow motion he stretched out to the utmost speed he was capable, and then pushed beyond.

Curt had seen many things in his long service but he'd never seen someone move so fast they blurred, he couldn't even track the man with his gun, none of his officers could draw a clear shot either. There he went past the last few people in the line, his palm lashed out and Peter was flung back through the terminal doors shattering the glass to land sliding across the tiles. The Asian grabbed the handle on the suspects suitcase and swung it in a low arc releasing it at a speed none of those watching could believe, it hit the glass windows that ran along one side of the customs area and shattered the four metre pane of laminated glass causing the crystalline debris to spray out wards like a wave of diamonds in the bright sunlight.

Continuing out over the tarmac, Curt watched it's tumbling arc so entranced by the scene he almost missed the Asian man yelling. He was reaching for his radio to have a team recover the case when what the man said penetrated.

He had to get the message across but his limited English was hardly up to the task. Then he remembered some of the movies he'd seen.

“Geto dowune!” He slammed into people close to him knocking them off their feet, and then seeing so few actually reacting to his shout released a low powered wave of concussive ki to knock as many people off their feet as possible. He knew it wouldn't be enough but it was all he had time to do.

He'd used his ki to enhance his voice, the people furthest from him responded. Then there was a blinding flash out where the bag still tumbled towards the ground two stories below, the shockwave hit the windows and caved them in, shards of glass scythed through the air in all direction making an eerie whistling sound. He remained on his feet as he deflected incoming shards up towards the ceiling. The shockwave rolled across the customs area mowing people down if they were unlucky enough to still be standing, others were thrown away from the blast. Finally as the ball of flame that centred around where the case had been expanded out and washed over the side of the building but very little entered and even less actually ignited anything.

Silence descended a short time later, except for the occasional sound as something gave into the effects of gravity to teeter and crash to the tiled floor. He stood and watched as stunned people began to realize they were alive, or injured, many people hadn't escaped the falling glass. Then the screaming started in a wave that almost matched the explosion for sheer volume. Sirens and klaxon joined in to the din to make it even louder, and a stray electrical fire set off the sprinkler system. She wiped a rivulet of water from her face as emergency crews began to arrive on the scene. The water was cut off as they realized the fires had been dealt with...

Ranma blinked as the big blond man moved forward in the line closer to the customs officers, it was easy to see just how nervous the man was and Ranma could tell the customs officers hadn't missed it at all. He doubted he'd need to act, even if his mind kept giving him flashes of disaster and mayhem. Dr. Tofu had called it combat fatigue, and told him he wasn't the only person to have it, though it usually happened to people who came from a war zone. Ranma had just smiled, as far as he was concerned that described Nerima perfectly. It kind of explained the way he'd left Nerima as well, he didn't think he'd be welcomed back anytime soon, but that was alright because he had no intention of returning, ever.

At the head of the line the man had just erupted into motion as he pushed through the crowd on his way to who knew where. Where could the man go? He was on United States soil so to speak and they weren't likely to let him go anywhere. He thought about stopping the man as he had in his `dream' but decided that a simple ankle tap as the man passed was more than sufficient, especially as he watched the man crash into the tiled floor and slide a few feet before the officials landed on the man. Ranma winced a little in sympathy, he'd had people land on him like that before and he knew how much it could hurt.

The customs officers spoke to the man for a moment or two and then cuffed him, Ranma thought it might have been his rights, just like in the movies but his English really wasn't up to it. He watched with interest as the man was led away and the suitcase the man had been carrying was taken away and then sighed as the line started moving again. Just a hiccup on the road to freedom or so it seemed.

He'd finally escaped the madness that was his life, he doubted even Ryoga could find him here, though he wouldn't put money on it. He needed time more than anything else, two years in Nerima had left him stressed to the point that he'd been having increasing numbers of hallucinations in which bad things happened, things he with all his prowess at martial arts hadn't been able to stop. People were hurt or dead, because he wasn't good enough. He shivered, even though the hallway was in full sunlight and the temperature was hovering around twenty six degrees, the shiver had nothing to do with the temperature.

The line moved again and he made to remove his pack, he'd be after the man in the Hawaiian shirt. He shuddered again as his mind dredged up his final run in with the principal of Furinkan High school. Then smiled, that was all three Kuno's accounted for in less than a day, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. His bag came off and he held it in front of him, one bag and about fifteen kilos of clothes, that was his life now, not that he'd had much more when he'd lived at the Tendo's, and all of that he'd given up as the price was too steep for him to want to pay it.

In a way he felt lucky, strange as it may seem, when he left he was carrying everything he owned. Not a single thing had he left behind, nothing that he deemed important anyway.

The custom officer waved the man in the loud shirt through the automatic doors and gestured for Ranma to place his bag on the table and to open it which Ranma did without hesitation, he had nothing to hide. More to the point he really didn't have that much at all, it only took the men a few moments to rifle through his bag and pass him through.

“Welcome to the United States Mr. Takagi, I hope you enjoy your stay.” The customs officer smiled as he waved the Asian man through. Ranma noted in passing that the man he'd called Curt was actually Darren according to his name badge he hadn't been close enough to read it before.

“Thankyou very much!” Ranma enunciated the words very carefully and smiled broadly as he hefted his light pack and moved into the terminal proper.

If he'd thought the customs area was busy he was in for a shock as he walked into a roaring sea of humanity. Bright colours were everywhere he looked, adorning people from all over the world, he suddenly realized how sheltered he'd been, living in Tokyo. He smiled again as he contemplated the next year, he'd secured a twelve month working visa, not that he really had to, he could live very cheaply and he'd saved almost every yen he'd earned for the past six months both as a construction worker and as a waitress. He'd held down both fulltime jobs and done so well that he'd been able to afford both his airfare, paid for by Dr. Tofu, and enough to live semi comfortably while he saved the rest for once he got here. Not that he planned to be idle.

He'd decided to make his way to the nearest coffee shop for a cold drink when he looked up and found several serious looking men in dark suits blocking his path.

“Mr. Saotome? Could you come with us please? We have a few questions we'd like you to answer.” Ranma glanced at the men and assessed them.

“What this about? Who you?” The pigtailed martial artist surveyed the clean cut men suspiciously.

“Of course, sorry about that. I just thought it might be best if we did all of that in private. The name's Simons, Andrew Simons and I'm with the FBI.” He flipped open his wallet and showed his badge. “My superiors were a little worried that you were coming into the country under an assumed name and we're hoping you can put our minds at ease.” Ranma frowned as he worked his way through the speech.

“Okay, I come with. You have translator, yes?”

“A translator has been provided, yes.”

“I under arrest?” Ranma frowned as he considered what that could mean to his stay here in the U.S.

“Oh no! Certainly not, you haven't done anything to warrant that. We just have intelligence on you that shows you may be the cause of trouble here in our nation.” They'd been leading Ranma surreptitiously over towards a doorway on the far side of the food-court. “Right through here.” He then led Ranma through a warren of cubicles and into a glass partitioned office.

“Please take a seat. Can I get you some refreshments.”

“Sorry, I no understand.” He felt kind of uncomfortable in the small room with four other men. Then he looked towards the door as it opened to admit a small Asian man into the room.

“Sorry I'm late, I got held up. What with all the people leaving the terminal at the moment.” He took the only other available seat at the table and looked around.

“Andrew Simons, pleasure to work with you.”

“Kuzunori Ota, likewise I'm sure. You must be Ranma Saotome?” His switch between English and Japanese had been instant and for a moment Ranma felt envious at the ease with which the man spoke both languages.

“That's me, or at least it used to be.” He watched as the man pulled out his glasses and perched them on his nose.

“Right, I'm sure they'll get to that. Now I'm the translator, I'll be asking you their questions so just answer me as if they were my questions okay? Don't worry about them, they're just window dressing as it were. Do you understand?”

“Sure. So what am I in here for?”

“Well first up the gentleman here would like to know if you want something to drink, maybe some food?”

“Ah, yeah I could stand to eat, and some water would be good.” The man translated and a moment later the youngest of the foreign men left to procure the refreshments. Though Ranma thought to himself that he was actually the foreigner here.

“Good, now let's discuss some of the information we have on you. Could you tell us what you've been doing for the last six months please, we kind of lost track of you.”

“Er, where to start, um, it goes back much further than that. Maybe two years, maybe a little more.”

“Okay, we'll start with your arrival in Nerima shall we?”

“Alright, um, I came to Nerima a little over two years ago, my father had arranged a marriage for me to the daughter of an old friend. I was going to refuse but the old man made it a matter of honour.” He looked up in time to see the other man wince in sympathy. `Interesting'

“Okay, so you didn't want to be there?”

“Hardly, I mean I'd just picked up a curse in China and needed to find a cure as soon as possible.”

“Curse? I read that in the file. What kind of curse do you have?” He translated the question he asked for the benefit of both parties and received a frown from both of them, one because he didn't believe in curses, the other because he didn't want to believe in curses.

“I turn into a girl.” Ranma decided to be truthful with these people. One thing he'd learned from Nabiki was that he was a terrible liar, she could tell even before he opened his mouth. He didn't have a clue what these men knew or didn't so it would be safer all around if he just kept to the facts.

“Oh come off it! You expect us to believe that crap!” The man on Andrews's right leapt up and slammed both his palms down on table as he glowered at the youth.

“Sit down Roger, your outburst is uncalled for. Though I don't think you're helping your case by telling us that.” Andrew frowned himself, unhappy that things were going so bad already.

Ranma wasn't sure what they were mad about, he was the one who had a right to be mad about the curse. Then the translation caught up with his limited English and he blew his stack.

“Why the hell would I lie about something like that! Anyway I can prove it. Idiots.” He muttered the last under his breath

“That I'd have to see, I couldn't just take your word for it.”

“Yeah well, I don't like doing it if I don't have to. But I suppose I gotta. If you could get me some hot and cold water.”

“You want some warm water?”

“No, hot and cold water in separate glasses.”

“Oh, okay.” Another of the men left the room. “So tell us a little more while we're waiting.”

“Well what did ya want to know?”

“Everything really, just start at the beginning.”

“Okay,” Ranma started to describe his life in Nerima totally disregarding the snorts of disbelief that sounded from time to time.(1) After about ten minutes the refreshments arrived followed shortly after by the man who'd gone for the water.

Ranma was given a few moments to get a drink, he'd been talking for a while and he was already feeling a little dry.

“Okay, you've had your drink. Now show me this curse.” The man tried to remain neutral but his suspicious nature came to the fore and he thought the young man was having them on. If he was he'd be on a plane about ten seconds later. Then he felt his jaw unhinge and the hair rise on the back of his neck as he witnessed said youth shrink, his hair colour changed as well, but the eyes stayed the same. Direct and crystal blue.

“You seen enough or would ya like me ta strip?”

“Um, er no that won't be necessary.” Totally unaware and uncaring of the frowns he was just given by his colleagues.

“Good cause police or not I woulda pounded ya for suggesting it.” Ranma dipped her hand in the hot water and immediately gained nearly eighty pounds and a foot in height.

“So it's true? What other curses are there?” He leant forward, if what he'd seen was true, and he had no reason to doubt his own eyes then some of the other things that were dismissed in those files might be true.

“I just told you all this, but hum, let's see, there's Pops, he turns into a Panda, Ryoga is a pig, both curse wise and his behaviour. Mu Tsu becomes a duck and his girlfriend turns into a c-c-a-cat. Then there's Pantyhose Taro.” Ranma looked around as if expecting somekind of objection to the name. When none were forthcoming he sighed and continued. “He turns into a monster, the cursed pool he fell in was called `Yeti riding a ox carrying eel and crane', no one's ever managed to explain that one to me.”

“Could you describe this monster for me please?”

“Sure, um he's about twelve feet tall, he's got wings on his back, an eel for a tail, recently he figured out that curses kind of join together and the picked up some tentacles from another pool, I suppose he weighs in at two or three thousand pounds, an I can tell you it's all mucle.”

“And that's all of you?”

“Well I suppose there are more victims of the curses but they're the only ones I know of.”

“So how do the curses work, other than hot and cold water that is?” Everyone was leaning forwards to hear the response this time, where before there'd been skepticism now they couldn't wait to know all about it.

“Let's see, alright the curse changes the person or animal that falls into it with whatever last drowned there. Now it don't make you into no animal up here.” He tapped the side of his head to emphasize what he meant. “That's one of the reasons that Pantyhose Taro is so dangerous, he's got the mind of a very good martial artist at his disposal and lots of power to back him up.” He looked downcast for a moment, then looked up with a small smile on his lips. “Course, I can beat him by myself now, then again he ain't got any reason to follow me.

“Alright, after seeing the curse for myself I have to admit that I'm more inclined to believe some of the crazier things you just described to us. What happened after that, I think you got up to describing your failed wedding?”

“Ah yeah, the wedding. It was interesting let me tell ya, much more at the epicenter than on the outskirts. You'd have to know I was the epicenter no matter where I went.” The bitterness dripped from his words as he continued to describe the list of betrayals, damages and various other things that culminated in him taking the blame for the whole fiasco.

“And where were you in all this?” The big man at the far end of the table leaned against it scowling.

“Kami is he usually that angry? If you must know I was trying to deal with as many of the fighters as possible, limiting the damage and getting spectators out of the way.”

“You expect us to believe the `Worlds self proclaimed best martial artist' couldn't handle a few fights?” The man was openly sneering now.

“That's uncalled for Jake, keep your mind in the game.” His supervisor wasn't happy with his outburst at all.

Ranma on the other hand was coming to a slow boil, “You look like you can handle yourself in a fight, Jake was it?”

“Yeah I do all right,” he smiled for a moment.

“I can see you do karate-do and a little kung-fu, southern preying mantis if I ain't mistaken?” Jake Remora blinked for a second as he took in what the kid had said.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I watched the way you move, and I'm very good at guessing. How many people can you take down in a fight, Jake-san?” Ranma leant his chair back against the wall and put his feet up on the table, with his hands resting behind his head he seemed totally at ease even to the trained fighters in the room.

“I can take groups up to fifteen,” he continued to sneer, this Ranma hadn't been able to handle that many if what he'd said about the fight was true.

“Cool, gotta admit that's impressive, if we're talking about fifteen people who are nearly as skilled in martial arts as you are. Are we?” Kuzinori Ota translated the words and blanched as Agent Remora stood up so fast his chair crashed into the door behind him, then blinked as Ranma appeared crouched in the middle of the table with one of the officers guns pressed under the big mans chin. The room froze in a tableau of inaction as the shock set in.

“Got something to say Jake-san?” The translation came out stuttered but was clearly understood. The hammer of the gun clicked back, and it certainly didn't help anyone's nerves that he was glowing in shades of blue from head to toe.

Andrew Simons decided to step into the discussion for the first time since it had started before things got to far out of hand. “Now, now calm down son. We don't want anyone hurt here now do we?” He murmured softly so as not to startle the young martial artist.

“I'm alright Simons-san, I ain't gonna hurt anyone either, someone just needed to learn that they can't push my buttons like that.” Remora sighed in relief as the click-click sound of the hammer being gently lowered again. Ranma placed the gun down on the table and turned to walk back down the centre of the black lacquered table, no sooner had he reached the centre of the table than he felt the officer of the law scrabble for the gun and bring it to bear on his back.

“You've gone too far this time Saotome, taking an officers gun is a Federal offence,” he yelled as he depressed the trigger before anyone could stop him. Everyone around the table blinked as nothing happened, Ranma wasn't thrown into the far wall by the impact of a 9mm slug in the back, there was a definite failure from the sound effects department as a round failed to fire, and no spent cartridge was ejected from the semi-automatic pistol in his oversized fist. Jake Remora looked at the gun in his hands and slowly began to realize that his gun was lighter by a magazine and the round that should have been in the chamber. Ranma crouched down in front of his seat for a moment then stood revealing a small pyramid of ammunition sitting like a modern sculpture.

Ranma stepped off the table and regained his seat, tipping it back till it rested against the wall. He blinked….

Nothing had changed, the little sculpture made of bullets still sat directly in front of him, `Ah shit! I actually did that. An' here I was hoping it was another hallucination.'

He looked round at the stunned people sitting around the table and wondered what their reactions would be to this.

To be continued…..

Next time in `One Straw', find out what the repercussions are of disarming the FBI in their own offices? How exactly did Saotome escape the madness of Nerima? And how do they get the jelly in a jelly donut? Only two of these questions shall be answered but stay tuned anyway to find out which ones.

Ah yes the shit hits the fan, but which way doth it blow?

(1) I don't think I need to re-iterate the whole Ranma 1\2 story to those reading this fic. If you don't know what happened in the story I'd highly recommend reading it all. It's good, really, at least for the first two or three times then you start to notice little things like a lack of a real ending, or paper thin characters. But I digress.