|
|
"You walked?" Ranma demanded. This boy didn’t look like a martial artist, but… he -had- said that he was a master of the Cat Fist… wait a minute… how on Earth could you -master- that? Ranma looked at him askance… "I can accept that part, I guess… I did it, after all… but…"
"But what?" Xian Mao was hoping to pick up additional information empathically—and he had, things like Ranma’s fear of someone who knew more about her (him?) than they should, or the disbelief that someone like him could actually make the walk—but he refused to *dig* in Ranma’s head for information.
"How? How can you be a master of -that-? The Cat-Fu has always been more in control of itself… I never remember…"
The True Cat Fist
by Jeff Groves
Chapter Five: Nature of the Neko-ken
Part One: Ranma
neko-sama@juno.com
"What do you mean?" Xian Mao asked, puzzled. Aside from the fact that a Saotome Ranma had been improperly trained in the Neko-ken, it had never been really clear what was wrong… only that he couldn’t control it. Somewhere along the line, it was clear, a -good deal- of information had been lost.
"How much do you know?" Ranma sighed, wearily…
"That’s a good question," Xian Mao confessed. "Less and less, it seems. Perhaps we’d be more comfortable out of the weather…"
The Tendous stared as the two drenched figures walked into the main building.
This strange Chinese boy had coaxed Ranma inside!
After Ranma had wandered to the baths, the new boy—trying very, very, hard not to get anything wet—looked very sternly at the panda—who was playing shogi with Soun.
"Saotome Genma, we -will- talk later."
The panda nodded… ether accepting of his fate, for once… or agreeing with the intention of running away as soon as Xian Mao’s back was tuned.
Xian Mao smiled, and stood patiently, waiting for Ranma to come out of the bath… hopefully bearing a towel for him as well.
Ranma came out after a few minutes, male and dry, but without a towel. The Neko-ken master shrugged, and followed the young martial artist up the stairs.
When they got to the room that Ranma shared with his father, the red-shirted martial artist gestured for his grey-clad companion to enter first. Xian Mao bowed, and slid silently in.
"How do you move so quietly?" Ranma asked. "I don’t think even Dr. Tofu can move like that… maybe not even the old letch or the old ghoul."
"It is a facet of the true Cat Fist. Once you begin it’s practice, it becomes an ever-present part of your life… I move very much as a cat does: I step softly, smoothly, every part of my body acts as a… I don’t know the word… most of the shock is taken into and dispersed by my own body. It is not something I choose to do… you know that there are those who seem to never be able to move quietly?"
"Yeah," said Ranma without thinking, "like Akane."
"I see. Well, I might be said to be the opposite… incapable of moving loudly. It is due to, or thanks to, depending on how you look at it, the Neko-ken. My senses are much the same… I have incredibly acute hearing and smell… the exception being my eyesight." Xian Mao smiled, and tapped his glasses.
Ranma nodded. "So, do you turn into a cat sometimes, too?"
Xian Mao shook his head. "No, Ranma-san. Your training is flawed… horribly, terribly flawed. Truly told, you should be dead. No one has ever before survived intact, that we are aware of."
"So? I’ve survived a lot of stuff that no one else has."
"I don’t know… I guess we feel that we’re responsible for their deaths, and for your problems with the Cat Fu. We—the people of Wang-Mao-Yue—are the only ones on the face of the earth who know the secrets of the Neko-ken, and we feel that those who somehow learn of it and die attempting to master it are our fault… our responcibility. Do you understand, Ranma? In many ways, the Elder and the monks, and myself feel that if we help you, as I have been sent to do, we are somehow atoning for, not only what has happened to you, but for the deaths of hundreds of others…"
Ranma nodded. He understood guilt and repayment. Those were the things responsible for the horrendous P-chan situation.
"So you want to cure me of my fear of cats?"
"I don’t know, Ranma-san. I don’t fully understand what is wrong with your training. I was hoping, actually, that you could tell me…"
Ranma nodded, and began to tell the tale of how a ten-year old boy had been tortured in the name of the Art.
The fear of cats, the strange transformation, it made no sense… and the loss of memory…
"…I don’t even remember what I do when I’m a cat… it took Akane forever to get it through her head that I couldn’t remember kissing her…"
Xian Mao smiled… a friendly smile that brought to mind a kitten’s contented purr.
"You wish you could remember, don’t you?"
"NO!!" Ranma yelled more out of instinct than true feeling. Xian Mao just laughed at him. "Okay, I guess… I… I’m not a pervert or nuthin’, but…"
Xian Mao was laughing so hard now that he couldn’t even sit up.
"HEY!" yelled Ranma, not liking being laughed at, especially by someone he didn’t even know, "what’s the matter with you? It’s not like that!!!"
"Yes," Xian Mao laughed, suddenly more human and more an adolescent boy than he’d ever been since becoming a master of the Neko-ken, "it is! It is PRECISELY like that!"
The Tendous were insatiably curious about what was going on in the room. Nabiki, especially, wanted to know exactly what was being said. She truly, truly wished that she’d gotten around to bugging that place. She’d do it tomorrow, she decided… then decided against. What were the odds that it would pay off? Now, the bathroom, however… -that-, she would do tomorrow…
They heard Ranma yell ‘NO’, then Xian Mao laugh. And laugh. And laugh.
Until he finally came out of the room, still chuckling.
His smile cracked, however, when he saw Genma trying to sneak off. Out of the long coat came a knife, which found itself hurtling through the air and pining Saotome Genma to the wall by his gi.
"Saotome Genma…" Xian Mao began, then stopped. It was clear to everyone that he had no idea what to say. From the top of the stairwell, he jumped, ricocheting of the banister into the main living area, were everyone was siting. Snarling, with the air of a tiger on the hunt, he stalked up to Genma’s quivering form. As the old man quaked underneath his gaze, the young priest/monk opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, finally giving up and simply striking Genma across the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, more insulting than injuring.
"Saotome Genma," he asked, finally finding the words, "what in the names of the Ancestors and the Gods possessed you to do that? The Cat Fist training? Did it never occur to you that the way to one of the two most powerful techniques in Existance would be more than throwing your son into a pit of starving cats? Did that never occur to you?"
The conversation went downhill from there. It involved Xian Mao screaming a good deal, Genma gibbering an awful lot, and everyone putting in far more than their two cents worth.
In the end, it was Ranma who broke it up.
"EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!!"
Dead silence. It occurred to Nabiki that if Ranma were to express himself this way more often, he’d get quite a lot done.
"Okay, Xian Mao… you said you’d help me with the Cat Fist and my fear of cats, and I’m grateful… but no one gets to pick on Pops like that."
Xian Mao let go of Genma’s collar and bowed to Ranma.
"My apologies for the disturbance. You are correct: it is not my place to smash your father here and now…. That is your job."
Everyone looked at Xian Mao strangely.
"I apologize for disturbing the harmony of your home."
Everyone was in shock by now. This Chinese boy had come for Ranma… done no damage to the property whatsoever, was -apologizing- for a minor disturbance, and…
"What did you say Ranma?" demanded Nabiki. She was certain she’d heard him say that this Xian Mao was going to help with his cat phobia.
Ranma, however, couldn’t even seem to remember what it had been… only that he’d wanted Xian Mao to stop attacking his father (as Xian Mao had said, that was his job).
Perhaps, had the conversation been finished, things would have worked out in far simpler a fashion. Unfortunately, it was not. Shampoo chose that moment to make her own door in the wall, landing—amazingly—not on Ranma. She landed on Xian Mao.
"Nihao!"
Everyone facefaulted.
Save Xian Mao, who hadn’t gotten up yet.
Shampoo had known something was wrong from the instant her bicycle had landed. Usually, it was a sold impact, clean and hard… whether it be on the ground or on Ranma that she landed. This time, it had been a dull, wet, crunch.
She could see Airan in front of her, so clearly she hadn’t landed on him… she looked down.
"<Oh, shit,>" she muttered in Chinese. The new boy, the one she’d met at the Nekohanten, the one who’d sworn truce with her, was lying underneath the tire of her bike… clearly hurt.
"Xian Mao! You okay?"
No response.
"What do you want, Shampoo?" demanded Ranma.
"Shampoo come see Airan! But not having good day… now land on nice-boy!"
She jumped off her bike, and moved it so that she could examine him. "Xian Mao hurt bad? What me do?"
"Get him to Dr. Tofu’s!"
"Oh, hello!" called out the esteemed doctor as Ranma, Akane, and Shampoo barged into his office at very nearly dark. "What’s the matter, now?"
"Our friend is hurt," Ranma explained.
"Oh! It’s Xian Mao!" Tofu exclaimed. "What happened to him?"
The purple-haired Amazon blushed. "Shampoo land on he…"
"Really?" the doctor asked, delicately popping Xian Mao’s neck, spine, and shoulders back into their proper positions. "You land on Ranma all the time, and he never seems to be hurt too badly. I wonder why…"
Having finished re-aligning all the joints in the boy’s body from mid-back up, the good doctor taped his wake-point.
Xian Mao blinked once, twice, then began muttering in Chinese. Tofu and Shampoo began to laugh.
"What?" demanded Ranma, "What’s he saying?"
"He pray," explained Shampoo. "Pray for help."
"He’s praying to his Ancestors and his Goddess," clarified Tofu. "to protect him from random beatings."
Ranma and Akane just looked confused.
"This is the second time today he’s found his way to my office like this… earlier this morning he and Ukyou had a disagreement."
Ranma still didn’t seem to understand.
"She kicked my ass into the ground."
The group turned to see Xian Mao sitting up. A quick, savage twist of his back filled the room with whet popping noises, and a flick of his head resounded with a sickening *crack*. He repeated the actions with his shoulders, wrists, and elbows.
Dr. Tofu looked askance at him, "Did I do something wrong?"
Xian Mao nodded. "Please do not take offense, Tofu-sensei, but my joints are not aligned like most people’s. Another side-effect of the Cat Fist training."
Ranma looked at him in wonder. "Seems that the Neko-ken changes your life no matter -how- you’re trained in it…"
"Yeah…" Xian Mao agreed. "Can we talk more tomorrow evening? I’d like a chance to rest…"
Then he passed out.
The True Cat Fist
by Jeff Groves
Chapter Five: Nature of the Neko-ken
Part Two: Xian Mao
neko-sama@juno.com
Nabiki was curious. Well, no, that wasn’t quite the word. She was curious about everything. This, she -wanted- to know about… to the point where almost anything was acceptable to achieve that knowledge.
And what was this great secret that she burned to know?
His name was Xian Mao.
Out of nowhere, he’d just appeared. Searching for Ranma, and seemed to be wanting to help him. He’d through blind luck found Ukyou, and she’d kicked his ass. He’d found his way to Tofu’s and worked out some sort of deal with the doctor to stay and work there… Then he’d met and fought Kuno, won, and taken the upperclassman’s bokken after casting some strange spell (Akane had related the tale to her). He’d followed Akane to the dojo, talked with Ranma… apparently getting something of use out of the boy/girl. Then he’d come down laughing, and gone berserk on Genma. Ranma had intervened—a little of a surprise, until you realized that Ranma’s honor would not allow someone to assault his father—and the Chinese boy had readily backed off. Then Shampoo had shown up, seeming to recognize him… after, of course, having landed on his head. Another surprise, here: Xian Mao hadn’t gotten back up.
All in all, he probably made the least sense of anyone who’d ever shown up looking for Ranma.
And those strange, luminous, silvery blue, cat-pupiled eyes…
In short, Xian Mao fascinated Nabiki.
And when there was something Nabiki set her eyes on, she almost invariably achieved it…
Shampoo was feeling more than a little guilty.
She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but she was.
It probably had something to do with clobbering Xian Mao. Granted, she clobbered Ranma and Mousse on a regular basis (sometimes more than once daily), but this was different. Airan and stupid Mousse both recovered quickly, if not instantly. The new boy (she didn’t have a ‘name’ for him yet… like spatula-girl, violent pervert-girl, ribbon-girl, lost-boy, and so on… she would have to come up with one: it was one of her more reliable forms of amusement) on the other hand, had not recovered so easily. They’d had to take him to Dr. Tofu’s (she like the nice young doctor, he was gentle, friendly, and had given her a place to stay when she’d first arrived)… where he was apparently staying, anyway. The doctor had somehow not put his joints back together right—because they were put together differently in the first place, according to what he’d told them. Then Xian Mao had fainted.
He’d been badly hurt, and it was her fault.
So she felt guilty. Maybe tomorrow, before the restaurant opened, she’d go and apologize.
Maybe ask him a few questions, as well. Such as ‘Why you ask me swear truce?’ and ‘What -IS- cat fist? Mao Fu? Neko-ken? Is not just what Airan does when scared of cats, is it?’
"Great-grandmother!"
"Yes, great-grandaughter?"
"I go out! Be back soon!"
"Going out to chase the groom? Good girl."
"No. Go see Xian Mao, see he okay."
The old ghoul’s eyes narrowed. "Very well. But you’d better be back in time to open."
"Shampoo be back!" she promised, and bounced out the door. Cologne’s suggestion, however, had put a slight damper on her morning. Why could great-grandmother not see that Ranma did not want Shampoo? Why could the old woman not see that Airan would never take a woman he did not want?
He seems to be taking four of them, great-grandmother would respond, eyes narrowing.
But the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t. Kodachi, he pushed away with all his strength, even as she tried to blackmail, rape, and abuse him into choosing her. Ukyou was his childhood friend, and he didn’t want to loose that, even if it meant stringing her along… which, with all honesty, Shampoo had to admit, was not what he was trying to do. And Akane… the only people who couldn’t see -that- were Ukyou, Cologne, the Kuno sibs, and the two in question. As for herself… what was she to Ranma? Was she even his friend?
Shampoo hoped so. She did love him, or, rather, had. Unrequited love has a habit of either festering into obsession, as Mousse’s had, or dying… as hers had. At least the romantic love… she still wanted Ranma for her friend… she -desperately- needed a friend.
Perhaps that was why she was feeling so bad about Xian Mao: he was someone who might become her friend, and she’d put him—if not in the hospital, close enough.
"Oh, hello Shampoo." Dr. Tofu’s voice asked her, curious but friendly, "What are you doing here?"
Shampoo looked up in surprise. She’d already made her way here to his clinic!
"Shampoo come see Xian Mao, see if he okay."
"Oh, that’s nice. Go on in, he’s in the room that used to be yours."
Shampoo nodded, and simply smiled thank you… Ancestors! How she -hated- speaking Japanese!
Since it -had- been her room for a little while, it wasn’t very difficult for Shampoo to find it.
"Nihao," she said, walking in the open door. Xian Mao was sitting on the floor, stretching and doing meditative exercises. He also was naked from the waist up.
Shampoo caught herself before she began to stare. He was built even better than Ryouga! Maybe not -quite- as muscular, but since Ryouga stood just this side of the borderline where muscle stopped being attractive, that was in his favor. There was also the way he moved: perfect, fluid, boneless grace… almost like a cat.
"<Hello, Xian Pu,>" he responded in Chinese.
"<Are you okay?>" she asked, still tentative
"<Yeah, I’m fine.>" Xian Mao winced, pushing up shields to keep her out of his head. Were Nabiki and Dr. Tofu the only people in the entire Nerima Ward who thought quietly? "<I was not seriously damaged, Xian Pu. You have no need to feel guilty.>"
Shampoo started. "<How did you know…?>"
"<Xian Pu, I am a priest of sorts. I am also very sensitive, and you think and feel very loudly.>"
Shampoo blushed, and shielded her mind the way great-grandmother had taught her… hoping that he hadn’t picked up on -too- much.
Xian Mao stood up smoothly, walked over to the purple-haired Amazon and put his hand on her shoulder.
"<I realize that it was an accident, Xian Pu,>" he told her, "<and I -would- like to be your friend.>"
For some reason, Xian Mao was startled when Ranma fell through the roof of Dr. Tofu’s office, landing neatly on the bench-slash-table that was designated for patients.
"Gaaah!"
The good doctor, on the other had, took it in stride.
"Oh," he said, looking up, "hello, Ranma. What did you do to make Akane mad this time?"
"Kawaiikune tomboy…" the young martial artist muttered, collapsing into a position that closely resembled a dead and mangled bug.
Xian Mao looked at Ranma in shock.
"I’d say this case is a little beyond me, wouldn’t you agree doctor?"
"Yes, Xian Mao, I’d have to agree with that assessment."
Dr. Tofu sighed, and began putting Ranma’s misaligned body back together. Xian Mao watched closely as the good doctor demonstrated and explained exactly what seemed to have been done to the boy/girl, and how to fix it. Truly told, Xian Mao was somewhat shocked that such mangling could be inflicted on a human body before it broke.
"Well, now we just wait for him to wake up," Tofu said after a few minutes worth of work.
"No we don’t," Xian Mao disagreed, grinning. Tofu raised an eyebrow. The boy winked, and laid his hand over Ranma’s solar plexus, then tapped the martial artist’s heart chakra twice. Ranma gasped, and came to life. "Did you ‘see’ the two Ki bursts?"
Tofu nodded. Very simple, very useful.
"So," the doctor pressed, smiling, "what -did- you do to Akane?"
"Wouldn’t eat the lunch she made me," Ranma admitted sullenly.
"And insulted her about it on top of that," the young priest muttered, picking the information out of the incredibly ‘loud’ thoughts that broadcasted their way through the room, just loud enough for both Ranma and Dr. Tofu to hear him. Ranma blushed, and the doctor chuckled.
"Dr. Tofu?" Xian Mao queried, directing his attention to the older man.
"Yes?"
"May I please take this opportunity to explain to Ranma just precisely what the Neko-ken really is? That is why I’m here, after all."
Dr. Tofu seemed to considder. "All right. We don’t have any other patients right now, and you did just show me that useful wake-up technique… incidentally, could that be used to help recover Ki?"
Xian Mao nodded. "That’s what it’s for, actually. It also has the side effect of waking the subject up. It can, under some conditions, help someone recover from a concussion or shock."
"Thank you," Tofu said smiling. "Hopefully, I’ll learn as much from you as you do from me. Do you mind if I listen in, though?"
Xian Mao shrugged. "Ask Ranma."
Ranma, too, just shrugged. Dr. Tofu sat down as Xian Mao began to talk…
Much like you, Ranma, I began training at a very early age. -My- training, however, was at first purely spiritual in nature. At first I was taught the principles of Buddhism, but once I began to understand those, I was introduced into the true faith of the temple: worship and guardianship of Wang-Mao-Yue, the fallen Yin Cat Goddess. She is the patron of, and to some degree the power behind, the Neko-ken.
That faith, that worship, is based first and foremost on the principles of Balance; of the Yin and the Yang. From that Balance, all things are derived. All things, Life, Death, Rebirth; good things, bad things; everything… all these things cycle, like the turning of a wheel. From those cycles, and the Balance, the world was made, exists, will end, and will be made again.
But I digress…
The Neko-ken derives it’s power from the Yin Principle, the Tiger, channeled through our fallen Goddess. The true name for the technique—or, rather, path—was lost long, long ago. The name Neko-ken, or Mao Fu, or Cat Fist, comes from the most basic aspect of the path: what we call the Claw. It is an embracing of the Tiger—the fiercest, most powerful of cats—and his mind, and his weapon. This is the thing you become when you loose control of your fear of cats, Ranma. That devastating technique: the ability to shred anything with a claw of Ki without even touching it physically, is only the beginning.
That state can be achieved by anyone with the focus, the training, and enough Yin Energy.
Beyond that, you are considered an adept.
There are Nine Steps, after the Claw… called Phases, Doors, and Gates almost interchangeably.
The First, is Movement. Through this Door lies speed, dexterity, and balance at levels well beyond human.
The Second, is Flight. Escape lies through this Door.
The Third is Defense of Territory. This Gate is the basic feline instinct to defend it’s home ground… powerful, but not lethal unless your enemy will not leave.
The Fourth Gate is the Defense of Self. More powerful than the last, though this Gate lies preservation of self at all costs.
None save a true master of the path can go beyond that point.