Right.  Once again, I've slapped the DARK tag on and doled out another
ugly portion of this fic.

I've gotten a few notes from people, and I've made a few changes in the
previous chapters.  If you have C&C for me, I'd greatly appreciate it.

I don't know if Nabiki is OOC in this chapter, and if she is, please let
me know.  I simply didn't think she was as smart as many people made her
out to be.  At least, not in the information trading business.  That or
nearly as smart as to think a normal person may be a raving psychopathic
lunatic underneath.  Heh.

Enough mindless rambling from me.

If you don't like DARK stuff, then don't read any more.  There.  I've
warned you.

C&C greatly appreciated.  Flames are not.


<insert standard disclaimer here>
=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Ding, dong, the witch is dead!  Which old witch?  That conniving bitch!"
-Anand Rao (on being told that Nabiki earned the status of "living
impaired")



	The phone rang incessantly.  Three annoying half-rattle,
half-rings sounded through the house, but nobody responded.  It would have
been annoying if it were audible, but the din of two voices in heated
battle drowned it out.
	"It's not that bad!"
	"It's moving?!"
	"It can't be moving, Ranma!  I didn't put anything alive in it!"
	"But it's moving!  You just created life in that pot!"
	"Well, if you'd stop making fun of it and eat it then it wouldn't
move, would it?!"
	"I'm not to eat that stuff!  I don't have a death wish!"
	There was a second's worth of silence suspended in the air.
	"Ranma no baka!"
	At that point, the phone stopped ringing.  Kasumi put the receiver
to her ear, eager to drown out the rest of the sounds of fighting and
arguing.
	"Hai," she said, exasperation tainting her normally cheerful
voice.
	"Is this the Tendo residence?"
	"Yes, it is.  How can I help you?"
	"I'd like to speak to Nabiki Tendo."
	"Certainly," she replied politely.  She cupped a hand over the
mouthpiece and leaned over to look into the living room.
	"Nabiki?" she called out.
	"Hai," came the reply from up the stairs.
	Kasumi looked up the stairs.
	"Telephone," she shouted.
	"Is it important?"
	"It's a boy," Kasumi called out with a smile.
	Nabiki skipped down the stairs, saw the playful smile on her
sister's face and rolled her eyes.  She watched her sister walk to the
kitchen and leaned back against the banister.
	"Moshi moshi?"
	"Is this Nabiki Tendo?"
	"Yes, this is.  Who may I ask is calling?"
	"I'm looking for some information regarding someone you know."
	"Really?" Nabiki asked with a smile.  There were plenty of calls
regarding that particular subject.
	"And what can I do for you?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her
voice.
	"Well, I'd like to speak with you concerning-"
	"Ranma Saotome?" she finished.
	"Yes," came the voice, the person's surprise evident.  "How did
you-"
	"I make it my business to know other people's business.  Meet me
at the kissaten directly across the street from the Takashimaya tomorrow
afternoon at four-thirty.  Wear a black shirt and order two cups of
coffee.  Sit in the very rear booth on the right side of the kissaten,"
she replied evenly and then hung up.

	Genjuro looked at the payphone in his hand and stared for a
moment.  He didn't like the way she conducted the initial contact.  She
seemed too professional, as if she was plying some trade of hers.  It made
Genjuro slightly nervous, but in a way that was optimistic.  This Nabiki
Tendo girl must know her trade and have plenty of information.  On the
other hand, she now figured in as a threat.  Selling information about
someone meant she would have little qualms about selling information about
him behind his back.  He would have to be careful around her.
	He hung up the phone and walked back towards the restaurant he'd
seen on the way here, the Nekohanten.  He'd seen the waitress inside,
chasing the Ranma boy around before.  Genjuro wanted to have a look
around, especially if he would have to figure her into his plans.  It
wasn't wise taking any more risks than necessary, especially since he had
only the sketchiest of plans regarding how to get back at the boy and the
old man.
	As he walked down the street, Genjuro saw a young girl putting up
a flyer for the Furinkan High School drama club.  He stopped to peer at
the sign, catching the young girl's attention.
	"Would you like a flyer?" she asked brightly.
	"Sure," he replied with a smile.  He nodded as the girl passed him
a flyer for the upcoming production of a Shakespearean play.
	"We're going to be putting up an interpretation of William
Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.  It's only a few yen to purchase a ticket
ahead of time.  Would you like to purchase one now?" she inquired.
	Genjuro laughed.
	"Why not?" he asked rhetorically.
	The young girl smiled and pulled out a small wallet of tickets.
	"Will you be taking any family with you?  Perhaps a wife or
children?"
	Genjuro paused for the briefest of moments as his mind reflexively
passed images of Ami and Yukiko through his mind.
	"No, it's just for me," he replied with a forced chuckle.
	The young girl didn't notice.
	"That'll be two hundred yen."
	Genjuro handed over the money and took the glossed paper ticket
and walked away.  He didn't hear the girl thank him as he left.  The
ticket was a pale lavender color with the English words 'twelfth night'
and the katakana underneath in a large eye-catching font.  The names of
several people, he presumed to be students, were written along the bottom,
along with the date, time, and place of the production.  It caught his
attention and he turned over the play's title in his mind repeatedly.  He
pocketed the ticket and walked towards the restaurant, his subconscious
piecing together bits and pieces of a puzzle that made up his plan.

	"You like anything more with that?"
	Genjuro thought for a minute before shaking his head.  The
energetic lavender-haired waitress giggled and skipped back towards the
kitchen with his order.  She returned moments later with his bowl of
noodles and plate of spring rolls.  Genjuro smiled and nodded before
tucking into the food.
	As he ate, he pulled the ticket from his pocket and set it on the
table in front of him, staring at the ticket.  He continued to stare as he
ate, slowly staring at the ticket and wondering why the title caught his
attention.  As he finished the soup and spring rolls, he sat back,
pocketing the ticket and staring at the insides of the restaurant.  It was
fairly small, but large enough to accommodate the crowd inside.  He sat
back and stared aimlessly as he digested, both the food and the feeling
the ticket gave him.
	Genjuro tossed the money for the bill and the tip on the table and
left the restaurant.  He wasn't getting anything done here, and he needed
a quiet place to think.  As he stood at the threshold of the door, the
inspiration for his plan hit him.  Genjuro stood still staring out into
the dying light of the evening as his future suddenly played in his mind,
his course of action clear.  A trio of people walked past him, bumping him
slightly and bringing him out of his trance.  He smiled as he brought
himself back to reality, and walked off towards his car a smile on his
face.

	Nabiki walked into the kissaten and calmly took the sunglasses off
her face, folding them carefully and slipping them into the small purse
she had by her side.  She shook her hair and took a deep breath, inhaling
the light aroma of coffee and cakes, and smiled.  She spied a man in the
back booth, wearing a white suit and a black shirt underneath.  He was
calmly reading the paper, ignoring the bustle and business around him.
Nabiki watched a waitress walk over, and place two cups of coffee on the
table, give a curt bow and walk off.
	He was the one.  She noticed that he looked a tad old for someone
interested in information regarding Ranma.  He looked close to twenty,
someone she'd expect to be past the immaturity she found in high school.
	"Konnichiwa," she said brightly as she sat opposite to him.
	The man simply put a hand out over the coffee, preventing from her
taking the cup.
	"That spot's reserved for a business partner," he said evenly
without stirring.
	Nabiki frowned at him.
	"You want to know about Ranma Saotome?
	The man turned and lifted his hand from the coffee.  He folded up
his paper quietly and stared at her with intense black eyes.
	"You are Nabiki Tendo?" he asked, a shade of disappointed coming
through in his voice.
	Nabiki leveled an even gaze at the man.
	"You want the information I have to offer, right?"
	"Right," then let's get a few things straight.  If you want what I
have to offer, then you act more civil.  You do what I ask and you get
what you want.  Do you want the information?"
	"Are you as informed as I presumed you to be?"
	"More so," Nabiki said with a feral grin.
	"Good," the man said without flinching.  
	A part of Nabiki became nervous, but she had a mask of cool to
keep.  She thought she saw a scar on his left cheek, barely noticeable,
but there nonetheless.
	"You like the scar?" he asked.
	Nabiki blushed involuntarily.
	"Sure thing.  You get that from Ranma?"
	"You might say that.  Rather indirectly, but he's the one that's
the source of all my problems.  Him and the short old man named Happosai."
	"So you're a martial artist?"
	"What do you think?" Genjuro scoffed.
	"Right.  We get plenty of those," Nabiki sighed.  "What makes you
so different from everyone else?  Ranma's the best there is, and he's
beaten everyone that comes to him."
	Genjuro looked at her evenly as she took a sip of her coffee.  
	"Didn't you put any cream or sugar in it?" she asked plaintively.
	"I didn't know what you'd want in it," he replied with a grin.
	"Only an idiot would drink their coffee black.  It's disgusting,"
she said offhandedly as she grabbed a sugar packet from the little basket
on the table.
	"Look, I'm smart.  I'm not like the rest of the goons that went
out looking for glory.  I'm here for personal reasons."
	"Really?  Then that makes things so different," Nabiki drawled
sarcastically.  "We get plenty of that type too.  At any rate, you think
you can pay the price?"
	Genjuro simply gave a curt smile and reached under the table.
Nabiki's eyes went wide as he pulled up a thin attach case.  He placed it
on the table and put a hand on it, looking at her questioningly.
	"You think you can give the right information?"
	Nabiki smiled broadly.
	"Let me tell you a thing or two," she said quietly.

	Genjuro walked out of the kissaten next to the Tendo girl.  He
smiled inwardly.  The girl had no idea what she was dealing with.  He
presumed she had no experience in true information deals.  She acted like
she was doling out high school gossip rather than solid information.  Her
complete abandon at describing everything he wanted regarding Ranma and
Happosai was a pleasant surprise.  When he thought about it, he doubted
that she had ever seen half a million yen in large bills in one place
before.  It probably helped that he played the complete fool, albeit a
rich fool.  She fell for it completely.  Apparently, she'd never met a
yakuza before.
	She told him everything he needed to know.  Absolutely everything
from his likes and dislikes, his personal life and the trouble he had with
women, and his code of honor.  The same went for the old master, but she
knew less about the little martial artist.  It was trivial in the end,
however.  On the other hand, she did note that the two were martial
artists.  The tales she told, and swore were the truth, made Genjuro edgy.
He'd never dealt with martial artists of their caliber before.  He'd shot
out a few people that had given him trouble, trying to make the fight up
close and personal, but that was different.  None of them could shoot
energy out of their hands.  None of them could leap tall buildings in a
single bound.  Absolutely none of them would change sex with a splash of
cold water.
	In the end, it was a horribly productive discussion.
	"May I give you a ride home?" he asked as they walked by the
parking lot in the back of the kissaten, near the shopping mall.
	Nabiki raised an eyebrow.
	"I suppose," she said with a smile.
	"Let me take the money for you," he said politely.
	"That's quite alright.  I'd like to carry it myself," she said as
they stopped by the door of the car.
	"I insist," he said evenly.
	"No really-"
	"I insist," he repeated, this time with no friendly voice.
	Nabiki turned and stared at him.  She saw the burning fire in his
eyes, the complete lack of humanity in the glazed orbs in his skull.
	"Don't bother screaming," he said evenly.  "If you do, I won't
give you the antidote."
	"What?" she whispered.
	"If you even think about doing anything stupid, I won't give you
the antidote and you'll die.  In less than five minutes to be exact," he
said gently, a small smile tugging at his lips.
	Nabiki stared in horror.  
	"You're lying," she whispered fearfully.  For the first time in
her life, she was truly scared.
	"I put in the coffee when I covered it with my hand.  I didn't
think you saw me drop the tablet in," he said smoothly.
	A sudden churning in her stomach hit her, and a wave of nausea
swept over her.  She choked back the bile and vomit rapidly rising in her
throat.  Nabiki stared at Genjuro in horror as he sighed and slipped his
sunglasses on.  She swallowed the burning bitter liquid and took a step
back.
	"Get in the car.  The antidote is in the glove compartment," he
said quietly.
	Nabiki scrambled into the car.  Genjuro pushed her in completely
and shut the door behind her.  Another wave of nausea hit her, stronger
than before.  Her vision started to blur, but whether it was from her
tears of panic or the poison she didn't know.  She paused for a moment as
the doors locked around her, but she ignored it as yet another wave of
pain hit her, almost making her double over in agony.
	Genjuro watched her with a detatched air as he walked to the
trunk.  He opened it and tossed the attach case in it.  From a small box
he pulled out a small mask with two small oxygen canisters attached to it.
It was with an amused air that he watched how panicked Nabiki was.  She
was openly crying, from the pain and the fear of death.  It nearly made
Genjuro laugh.  A part of him berated himself for being so cruel, but his
lust for revenge pushed it aside.  He was beyond such petty things.
	Nabiki desperately clutched at the BMW's glove compartment.  She
blinked back tears and turned the small knob there, only to find it
locked.  She felt the tears of desperation rolling down her face with
abandon.  She needed the antidote and now the glove compartment was
locked.  She turned to see Genjuro staring at her impassively from
outside.
	"I'm sorry, it must be in the armrest between the driver's set and
yours," he said through the window with a low chuckle.
	Nabiki nearly tore the lid off the small compartment, only to hear
a small hiss come from the compartment.  She saw a small vial of clear
fluid there.  Nabiki's hand dove in quickly and she unscrewed the cap from
the small test-tube. She quickly downed the contents of the tube, reveling
in the sweet coolness as it trickled down her throat.  
	Another wave of intense pain washed over her again.  She turned to
look at Genjuro standing outside with a surprised look on his face.  She
wanted to scream, but her mouth wouldn't open, her voice dying in her
throat.  As she felt the life drain from her limbs, the darkness engulfing
her, she saw him simply shrug his shoulders.
	"Wrong antidote?" he mouthed mockingly.
	Genjuro watched Nabiki slump over in the seat lifelessly.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
Ethan Tsai
1 N. College Street
Northfield, MN 55057

TSAIE@Gridley.ACNS.Carleton.edu
http://public.carleton.edu/~tsaie/ethan.html