Wielder of the Spear of Cicero
“Ranma!” Akane swung her bookbag at her fiancé’s head over and over again, while the adroit martial artist ducked and evaded her over and over again. “You’re such a jerk!”
“I told you,” he defended between dodges, “It wasn’t my fault! It was the geezer!”
“Then what were you doing in the girls’ locker room?!”
“He tricked me!”
“If this were any highschool other than Furinkan, you would have been expelled by now! Or at least suspended!”
“You want me kicked out?!”
“I want you to stop being a pervert!”
*
A bright light flickered at the edge of Kasumoto Sesshiro’s vision, causing him to pause mid-stride and turn his head toward the source. A teenaged boy rounded the corner ahead of him and started down the bridge on which Kasumoto stood. He was powerful, but not the source of the bright flash that had snagged his attention before. Then a small girl in a school uniform rounded the corner behind him, fairly growling, and Kasumoto’s attention was immediately and irrevocably wrapped around her petite form and fiery spirit energy.
“Take that back!” the girl shouted at the boy, but the boy’s scowl only deepened as he stopped and turned to face the girl, turning his back to Kasumoto.
“Sexless tomboy!” he spat at her, and even though Kasumoto’s view of the girl was blocked by the boy, he flinched at the bright flash of ki she released. “Built like a brick!” Another bright flash. “Uncute!”
At this last epithet, the ki peaked and the boy barely had time to duck as her bookbag came flying at his head. Kasumoto, engrossed as he was by the astral pyrotechnics, was not so lucky.
*
“Oh my god!”
“Way to go, Akane.”
Akane ran past Ranma, pushing him out of the way with a bit more force than necessary, and to the young man’s side, leaning over him with wide-eyed panic. The man, who appeared to be in his mid twenties, had been knocked clean out. Akane was at first a little confused by his unusual appearance – he was definitely not from Nerima. His shoulder length, blue-black hair was swept into a loose ponytail, which revealed his ears, pierced many times over with little silver hoops. He also wore an uncommon necklace which had slid out from under his loose blue shirt. Akane picked his head up off the sidewalk and checked for blood, relieved to only find a swelling bump.
“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” When he didn’t respond, Akane lightly tapped his cheek, growing more panicked by the moment. “Oh, please wake up, Sir!”
*
Sesshiro felt a gentle tapping on his cheek and struggled to orient himself. The blow to the head had left his mind swimming, and he felt as though he was terribly dizzy and incapable of making the world stay still. He managed to open his eyes, and stare blearily at the girl who stood over him, holding his head on her hands. Suddenly, he recognized the ki signature and the world snapped back into place.
She was beautiful, with endlessly dark eyes and her brow delicately creased with worry. One soft, warm hand cupped his cheek, and he felt as though he was experiencing human contact for the first time. All too soon, her hand left his face, and seemed to strip him of his humanity at the same time. He ignored it though, as it was a feeling he had become accustomed to, and soon forgot it entirely as the most beautiful and heartening smile he had ever seen graced her goddess lips.
*
“Oh, thank God!” Akane exclaimed as the man’s eyes came to rest on hers, clearly lucid, and she helped him to a sitting position. Ranma watched with a touch of jealousy as Akane smiled her beautiful smile at the man. The one he always tried so hard to elicit from her, the one that made his heart skip a beat, the one that she rarely showed him. He she was smiling broadly at a perfect stranger, just for surviving her temper tantrum. If she smiled at him every time he survived them, she’d be smiling all the time.
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Ranma rolled his eyes as Akane bowed her head over and over again in apology. The man just kind of stared at her, not really acknowledging her apologies. The way he was looking at her made Ranma’s skin crawl. It reminded him of the way Ryouga acted anytime Akane did something nice for him, and Ranma did not like the idea of this man making himself Akane’s newest suitor at all. Ranma hated to admit it, but he felt threatened by his age. He’d heard plenty of stories of girls falling for much older men – hell, it was all over the television and comic books.
“That’s alright . . .” the man finally responded, seeming a little dazed. “Really, I’m fine. . . .”
“Are you sure you’re OK? Do you want me to take you to the doctor? Dr. Tofu’s clinic is just a few blocks away.”
“He says he’s fine Akane, so he’s fine.”
“Ranma!”
“No, he’s right. I’m fine.” The man moved to stand up, and Akane quickly grabbed his arm to help him. “Thank you,” he said when he was standing.
Akane blushed and dropped her hands. “Of course. After all it was my book bag that—”
“Oh yes! Your bag!” He looked around for the leather satchel that had knocked him unconscious. “I hope it’s not damaged.”
“I got it, Akane,” Ranma announced from the wall of the bridge on which he stood, and indeed, he did have the bag. “C’mon, were gonna be late!”
“Late for what?” she shot back before returning her attention to the anonymous man. “I’m Tendou Akane, by the way.”
“I am Kasumoto Sesshiro,” he introduced with a bow, taking Akane aback with his formality.
“Uh, would you maybe like to join me and my family for dinner?” she offered clumsily, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Ranma did not like where this was going.
“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” he politely declined.
“Are you sure? My sister makes this delicious—”
“He said he can’t impose, Akane!” Ranma pressed agitatedly, jumping down from the wall. “Let’s get going!” With that he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run with him, leaving Akane without the chance to say goodbye to Sesshiro as she struggled to keep pace with him and not be dragged behind.
“What the hell was that about?” she asked angrily as they neared home. Ranma finally slowed down and Akane had the chance to catch her breath. “You’re such a jerk!”
“Oh so now you’ve got the hots for that old man?” he spat, not looking at her.
“Old man? He only looked about—” Akane’s scowl melted into a surprised expression, and then a delighted one. “You’re jealous!”
“What?!” he exclaimed, releasing her hand and turning on her. “I am not!”
“You are!” she insisted, apparently ecstatic at the revelation. Well, are you happy now? a little voice asked him. She’s finally smiling at you.
“You are so uncute,” he grumbled to himself as he entered the yard, Akane giddy at his heels.
“Ranma’s jealous! Ranma’s jealous!” she singsonged as she skipped past him and into the house. “Guess what, Kasumi!” he heard her shout from the entryway to her sister in the kitchen. It was going to be a long day.
*
Sesshiro stared after her, even after she had dropped out of sight. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful and kind and vivacious, and now found himself helplessly infatuated. When she’d touched his skin, he had forgotten what a horrible person he was and how many people he’d killed and just felt . . . alive.
And her eyes. . . . The way they exuded her emotions, be they worry or joy, and let the feelings overflow from herself and wash over him as he lost himself in the murky depths of her beautiful, beautiful eyes. The way her blush stained her cheeks so delicately and painted them a pale pink. Oh, how he could spend hours philosophizing over the wonder of her face. . . .
But he didn’t have that time, he reminded himself. He forced himself to forget about the lovely Tendou Akane, brusquely straightening his clothing and turning to continue across the bridge.
Only to freeze as he met the cold, black eyes of his lord and master.
“You were taking so long, so I decided to come and look for you,” he stated calmly, pushing his long hair out of his face while he did so. The youth was leaning jauntily against the wall of the bridge, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lord Takashima.”
“No matter,” the teenager said, shrugging off the apology. Sesshiro took this to mean that the reason for his delay was a nonissue, and so started walking down the length of the bridge, expecting his lord to fall into step ahead of him.
“She is rather pretty, isn’t she?” Sesshiro halted in his step, dreading what Takashima might do or say. “How old are you now, Sesshiro-san? Twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four, Lord Takashima.”
“Past time for you to start your own family, don’t you think?”
“I appreciate your intentions, Lord Takashima, but please leave the girl alone.”
The young man just raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I saw the way you were looking at her.”
“Kouzou, please don’t do it,” he pleaded, eyeing the long object wrapped in cloth and strapped to his master’s back. Takashima Kouzou’s face hardened.
“How very insolent we are today.”
“I am sorry, my Lord, for my affront, but please—”
“Leave the girl alone?” he supplied. Sesshiro let his silence speak on his behalf.
Kouzou sighed. “As you wish,” he relented, feigning indifference. “Go on ahead Sesshiro-san. I have yet to finish my work.” Sesshiro hesitated, then, in a show of trust, continued walking across the bridge.
When he had left, Kouzou turned and faced the direction the girl and boy had headed. Sesshiro had said no, but what did he really want? From what Kouzou had seen, she was of average comeliness, with a mix of a spitfire and a caretaker personality. Then all at once, Kouzou realized that his obedient underling had fallen in love with her for her life energy.
“So that’s why he doesn’t want me to give her to him.” He shrugged the parcel he carried off his back and unwrapped it at the top.
The opaque-white spearhead did not reflect the sunlight, but shone with a steady glow all its own. Kouzou ran his fingertips lightly over the spearhead, careful to avoid the razor-sharp edge, and smiled as a pleasant shudder ran up his spine. Hastily, he re-wrapped the spear and shouldered it onto his back once again.
Maybe there was a way for him to convince the girl to come to him of her own volition, so he wouldn’t have to use the spear. It would be breaking with tradition, but his servant deserved it for his loyalty.
Kouzou glanced back across the bridge toward the residential section of the Tokyo suburb before starting back toward the shopping district. He had a lot of work to do and not nearly enough daylight in which to do it.
He cast one last glance over his shoulder. No, he would not betray Sesshiro’s trust. Not today, anyway.
*~*~*