A large black raven swooped quietly into the room surrounding Mimir's well, flapping black furred wings as it started to settle into a landing. Before it touched the ground it began to grow. First into a wolf wearing a pelt of black feathers, and then into a man with a thick black cloak, like wings and feathers mixed in his thick black hair. The being's mouth curled into an amused smirk under wolf-yellow eyes.
"Gabriel," one spirit muttered, resulting in a more pronounced smirk from the man.
"That is one title," he admitted in a quiet voice that growled but was neither rough, nor hostile. "How long I remain in that office, however."
Most shrugged that off. Lycanus's opinions concerning divine office were fairly well known, at least the ones he wanted people to know. The archangel smirked at the faces trying to determine what he was there for. What move in his cosmic chess game he was making now.
He brushed lightly at the horn that was the mark of his office and strode to the well. He reached down and scooped up a handful of water, carried over a few feet to another part of the well, and dropped it back in. The water was turbulent and rough for a few moments and then it accepted the mix and settled calmly into a smooth surface again. Sometimes all it took was a small, meaningless appearance, and people, even great and powerful demons and "gods" started leaping to conclusions.
Besides, now that the matter with the Lord of Nightmares was cleared up, he had some freetime before the next of his plots started developing.
"Much more than just a series of small, isolated incidents," the newswoman announced to the city streets. She was a woman of Japanese descent, somewhere between twenty five and thirty five. Her brown hair pulled back in a thin ponytail, that could only occasionally be seen from behind her back. Her bangs curled into a helmet like frame around her face.
Few people were paying attention to the street TV as they walked along on their business. "It is now apparent that there is an organized criminal element in the streets, and for the moment, business is good. So good in fact that there are no eyewitnesses to any of these crimes."
As the television continued a man stood reading a paper emblazoned with the headline "City Crime Escalates." As he read he unknowingly had his pocket picked. It was immediately passed off to another teenager, and then another. Until it reached a girl with short auburn hair who leaned against a wall holding the wallet. A gauntleted hand reached out and took the stolen item.
"With complaints ranging from purse snatching to breaking and entering, the police switchboards have been swamped with the angry voices of more and more citizens that have fallen prey to the surge of crimes that continues to plague this city. Instead of getting better, things have actually gotten worse."
Elsewhere a delivery man took a box off of his truck and walked the twenty feet to the door to hand it off to the recipient.
"Even more alarming, is baffling and often bizarre nature of these crimes," the reporter continued. "Merchandise ranging from skateboards to stereo systems have been disappearing from store shelves and storage areas at an alarming rate."
When the delivery man returned to the truck a few moments later, it had been completely emptied.
"Even the victims themselves," an old woman waved dismissively at her television and reached to grab some more yarn. While she was bent over the TV was grabbed. "Rarely catch a glimpse of the thieves, in fact the police have been unable to come up with a single eyewitness. Only a few vague reports of young boys or teenagers at the scenes have been filed."
"But whoever is behind these crimes," the reporter continued. Meanwhile a van occupied by men in black jumpsuits with bug-eyed goggles was filled with various boxes by a virtual stream of teenagers. "One thing is certain, these are much more than just a series of random isolated incidents."
"Crimes without criminals?" the reporter continued. At a warehouse on the edge of the city a man in an ornate karate style gi watched over a horde of teenagers sorting through a collection of boxes. "An invisible gang at work? Who we gonna call?"
The short-haired girl that had finally ended up with the wallet tore open a box and pulled out a set of head phones.
"Unfortunately the police are the only ones available to combat what some are already calling the silent crime wave. But perhaps the most disturbing silence is the one coming from city hall. Nabiki Tendo, signing off."
"Don't you think you're pushing a little hard, Nabs?" a tech asked as Nabiki packed up her things.
"You're kidding right?" Nabiki asked. "This is the story of the decade."
"You bought stock in some security firms, didn't you," the other asked.
"Of course," Nabiki said. "But I can always get money, now recognition, that's another matter." She glanced around and frowned.
"Oh, your neice said she'd meet you at your apartment," the tech said.
"She's twelve years old," Nabiki said irritably. "When this cultural education thing ends I'd like to return her to her parents in one piece."
"Come on," the tech said. "She's been a city rat since she first got off the plane a year ago, she'll be fine."
"She better be," Nabiki said seriously pointing at him. She hmphed and started walking out of the building. The parking lot was darkened as she headed for her BMW, and took out her keys. Suddenly New York was seeming a lot like her home town. That put her in famliar territory, with the exception that she didn't know the players.
She was considering this as she turned the corner toward the driver side door. The sound of someone dropping a tire iron alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone. She frowned and turned around her car with a straight kick sending the would be thief sprawling back to the blacktop of the parking lot.
"Find somebody else's..." Nabiki stopped berating the thief and noticed the small crowd of thugs that was waiting in the darkness.
"Nice legs, lady," one of the young toughs said, flicking out a switchblade. Nabiki didn't waste time talking or trying to convince herself that she could take them with some barely remembered childhood training. She turned and ran down the streets.
"Get her!"
"Great," Nabiki muttered as she found herself cut off from the news building. "I'm going to get killed by gang of punk kids."
She caught sight of a possible escape in the form of a pile of junk next to a fence in an alley. If it held she could knock it down on her way up and block the path off to her. As Nabiki made her attempt she began to seriously regret her decision to stop studying the family art. Especially when the junk caved in under her weight and sent her tumbling hard to the ground amidst a lot of trash.
"Now we got you," one of thugs said, smiling and playing with a rod he had picked up from somewhere.
Nabiki stumbled painfully to her feet and struggled to remember a stance, kata or anything that might get her out of this. A flash of metal caught her eye and she smirked as something struck the light illuminating the alley. As darkness covered everything Nabiki heard the familiar sound of flesh and wood striking flesh and stayed very still. She was crossing her arms and smiling superiorly at the thugs sitting there tied up when the cops approached and headlights replaced the broken street lamp.
While the cops were collecting the thugs she quietly slipped what appeared to be a handmade dagger into her bag. She tapped her fingers against her elbow and took in her surroundings, noting a slightly raised man-hole cover lowering shut. Yes, things were beginning to get more and more like old times.
"That was great," a feminine voice declared happily.
"Null sweat," a guy answered. The two speakers were rather unusual, very unusual in fact. Not because they dressed in matching dark red outfits. Nor because they were blond with the occasional black or white stripe or spot. Nope, they were unusual in that they had fur rather than hair, and that it pretty much covered their body. Then there were those pointed ears, and the long tails swishing excitedly behind them.
"They didn't stand a chance," another girl added coming up behind the two cat people. She had a very bright red color to her fur with white highlights, and was showing off a very foxy smile. Her long bushy tail was revealing just as much excitement as the cats' were.
"I could have finished it quicker," another guy said coming up behind them. He stood taller than the others, with thick grey fur. His arms were crossed and he was frowning. A long tail swished behind him.
"Yeah, and caved..." the cat guy started. The cats both started circling the very wolfish fellow, moving quickly.
"...the alley in..." the girl continued.
"...on us! Come on..."
"...you just don't want..."
"... to admit you..."
"...actually had fun."
"Could you quit that!" an irritated voice demanded behind them. The second wolf had her arms crossed and her tail flicked angrily as she stalked past everybrody growling.
"We followed her plan right?" the fox-girl asked.
"All she said was what we were going to do anyway," the wolf said.
"So there's no reason..."
"...for her to be mad right?" Everybody shrugged and followed after the wolf.
"She left her dagger behind," somebody said coming up behind them.
This speaker was another fox, wearing a pair of glasses that had probably been scavanged and didn't much help his eyesight. He was folding a bit of robe into his clothes, and watching the she-wolf worriedly.
Nabiki walked into her apartment and stretched out. She checked the time and frowned. Just what she needed, to get bogged down with the police for the night. She walked into her kitchen and set her bag down on the counter and opened the fridge.
"Freeze, kiddo," she said, frostily. She turned around and looked at her niece's hands in her bag. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Have you been taking lessons from your grandfather, Midori?"
"Ah come on, Auntie Biki," the girl whined. A girl with short auburn hair. "You have lots of mon...what's this?"
"I figured the daughter of two great martial artists would recognize a dagger when she saw one," Nabiki said, grabbing the weapon out of her hand. "Now where did you go today?"
"Where were you for the last few hours?" Midori snapped.
"I was at the police department," Nabiki said distastefully. "You weren't here or else you would have known that from the answering machine."
"Like you care," the girl hmphed, crossing her arms. "You just dump me off like Mom and Dad did."
"I work," Nabiki said. "I can't watch you ever moment of every day. And your parents didn't dump you. The version I got was that you virtually pleaded to come live over here for a couple of years."
"They didn't tell me that you were a manipulative, tight wad, old maid," Midori complained. "Why were you at the cops? Chasing your story?"
"Some people tried to mug me," Nabiki said. "I was giving a report. And some of the cops aren't exactly friendly with me right now." Midori stared at her in surprise.
"Are you all right?" her niece asked.
"What do you think?" Nabiki asked. "Do I look hurt?"
"Umm," Midori looked suddenly nervous.
"And then I come home to find my niece lying in wait to pick my pocket," Nabiki said. "Its been a lovely day, Midori, please let me relax before I decide whether or not to call your parents."
"Sorry, Auntie Biki," Midori said, wincing. She drifted off to Nabiki's guest room. Nabiki looked at the dagger in her hand and thought over her encounter in the alley.
"What do we have here?" she whispered, smiling. She traced the kanji on the blade and chuckled. "Yamasen, Umisen." A dagger marked with the symbols of a thieving martial art in the midst of a city-wide crime spree. She frowned at the next few Kanji. "Tendo Anything Goes."
The frown vanished in the face of an amused laugh.
"It's good to be back in the game."
In the guest room, Midori's eyes were wide as her aunt listed off the Yamasen and Umisen.
"The police collected them," the speaker was a dark skinned girl with prematurely grey hair. "There was something familiar about that woman, Mistress Kurumi."
"Is that so?" the speaker was a red-haired woman leaning on a cane. Her eyes glowed bright red, bright enough that she wouldn't even be able to hide it behind shades.
A loud clattering sound announced the opening of the trap door to the rest of the sewers, and soon two blonde blurs were circling the woman, who laughed and sat down in her chair.
"Kurumi!" they shouted in one voice. "We had a battle, a real battle! It was cool!"
"Calm down!" the wolf shouted coming up from the sewers. "Show the Mistress some respect." The wolf travelled irritably to a corner of the basement and picked up a sword and a sharpening stone.
"Is something wrong, Shampoo?" Kurumi asked.
"She lost her dagger in the fight," the fox explained, joining them. "That reporter lady picked it up."
"Reporter lady?" Kurumi repeated, curious.
"She's been making a lot of reports about all the thieves recently," the fox-boy said as he entered the room ahead of the wolf-boy. "But you don't watch TV much so."
"Yeah, she has the same family name as you," the cat-guy said.
"Weird, huh?" the cat-girl added.
"Do any of you know this reporter's given name?" Kurumi asked. "Ukyou? Ryouga?"
"Becky?" the cat girl suggested. "Nina?"
"Beaky?" the male cheetah added. "Nancy?"
"Ranma, Ranko. You never listen," the male wolf grumbled sitting down. "It was Nabiki." Kurumi's eyes widened.
"Something wrong, Mistress?" the dark skinned girl asked.
"Nabiki Tendo is my sister," the woman said.
"Moshi moshi," Akane answered the phone. "Oh, hello Nabiki. Is there something wrong with Midori?" She said the last worriedly. Nabiki's rather dry answer did not reassure her.
"She's healthy," Nabiki assured her. "She thinks I have enough money that she can borrow from me, without saying anything."
"What?" Akane snapped. "Let me talk to her."
"Yeah, and then I need to talk to Ranma," Nabiki said. Akane waited irritably for Nabiki to put on her daughter and then proceeded to lecture. Ranma picked up another line to add his own say so for a few minutes.
Nabiki watched satisfactorily as the girl winced and cringed at her parents lecturing, and waited patiently to be given the phone again. Midori wandered off to bed feeling like she had just done ten rounds with one of the Hibiki's. She kept her ear open to listen to her aunt's conversation with her father though.
"Sorry 'bout that, Nabs," Ranma said as Nabiki came back to the phone. "Sometimes she can drive you crazy. You wanted to talk to me."
"Yeah, that letter Kurumi sent us," she started. "About sixteen years ago?"
"The one about Ryuu and Natsume getting killed by a renegade student?" Ranma asked cautiously.
"It was posted marked New York, right?" Nabiki said.
"There was no return address," Ranma said. "But that's what the stamp said. You think you found out more about that?"
"I got rescued from a mugging today," Nabiki said. "Didn't see by who, but one of them was carrying a handmade dagger, nice one too, and its marked with the kanji for Tendo Anything Goes, Yamasen, and Umisen." There was silence for a moment.
"Those arts are sealed," he said angrily. "No one besides me and my Pop should know them now that Ryuu's dead."
"There's also a crime wave in the city, Ranma," Nabiki said. "Pickpockets, break ins, lots of thievery."
"You're saying somebody's using the Yamasen and Umisen," Ranma said. "The way it was supposed to be used?"
"That's what it looks like," Nabiki said. "Of course, I could be wrong. I got this dagger from people that may have saved my life."
"Do you want us to come help?" Ranma asked.
"No, no," Nabiki said. "I think I can handle this. Who knows what craziness will happen if you come over."
"Thanks for the confidence," Ranma muttered. "Don't do anything stupid, Nabiki."
"I don't plan to," Nabiki promised, smirking. She turned toward the guest room and saw the door close shut. Nabiki shook her head amused. "Don't worry, kiddo. We weren't talking about you." Nabiki sighed and shook her head, chuckling. "I'm never having kids."
"You don't have to worry about it old maid!" Midori's voice called out.