"English speech."
/Speech translated from the original Japanese./
'Thoughts in either language.'
Rated T for descriptions of adult situations and use of controlled substances
"I believe Stoppable-san is your Destiny Kim Possible, like change we must always welcome Destiny."
Daughter of Secrets,
Daughter of Lies
When he had told her of his relationship with Kim Possible, she had made it clear to both of them that she accepted it. That change was a necessary, even welcome, part of life. After all, she'd been taught most of her life that adaptability was a ninja's key to survival. She had said this because she knew it would make it easier for him to leave. She needed him to leave. Not because seeing him with… her caused her pain. It did. It was because of the other one he had brought with him. Apparently, the Chosen One now had two women in his life. No matter what she thought of his older love, this new love of his was perfect in her eyes. The child was beautiful, full of happiness and love and life. And she was the right age. Ancestors above, the child was the right age! She needed him to leave because, the moment he was gone, she found herself in need of Master-Sensei's guidance more than she ever had in her life.
She was there to meet him at the secluded airstrip the moment the jet touched down. It had been three days since he'd left for the Americas on confidential school business. When she approached him, he'd started to scold her for leaving the school without his permission, but stopped short seeing the raw torment in her eyes, made even worse as she suppressed it for the sake of her role as a proper Japanese girl.
They returned to Yamanouchi as quickly as possible and he ushered her into his chambers, dismissing the other students and requesting not to be disturbed barring some dire emergency. Using what she'd learned, she was able to sense the precise moment the other students were far enough away. Casting aside centuries of tradition, she picked that moment to throw her arms around her sensei's shoulders and wet his beard with teardrops. He didn't move to stop her. Her situation was unique, he reminded himself. Allowances must be made. In words broken repeatedly by her cries of anguish, she described what had happened. Stoppable-san's decision and the way she'd convinced them that she had truly accepted it. He'd predicted this outcome for some time, but still he wondered at her reaction. She had been well-prepared for this final rejection by the warrior hero destined to be always beyond her reach. It was then that his ancient ears picked out a name between the choking sobs.
"Hana."
A year and five months earlier
'One last look,' Yori bargained silently with whatever gods that bothered to listen. 'I will only allow myself one final look. Then, I will accept that it is his Destiny to return to his homeland.'
She felt the pang of sadness rising up in her, but she was able to shove it aside just as quickly. These feelings were not appropriate. She was a student of the ninja arts, not some silly schoolgirl with a crush. Still, since the moment she'd met this boy at the airport terminal, with his wide, gentle eyes and a smile that came so effortlessly to his lips…
'No,' she scolded herself. 'I must not let my mind wander to such things. Ron-s--… Stoppable-san is the true heir of Toshimiru-sama. He has no time for distractions, and neither do I.'
Her reasoning was perfect. Her resolve was strong. And yet, here she was, out in the dead of night, dressed for stealth in her form-fitting black keikogi, crouching on the roof of the guest barracks. It had been a night of quiet celebration at Yamanouchi. The Chosen One had proven himself by defeating the traitor and the Dark One. Instead of immediately giving Stoppable-san the honor of walking back to civilization, he was permitted another night at the school to rest and recover. After that, another day to descend the mountain and his week in Japan would come to an end. One single week, but it had given her so many memories to treasure. Was it so terrible that she didn't want the last to be of him telling her goodbye?
Noiselessly, she flipped down in front of the clumsily patched rice paper doors, nudging one open to slowly reveal the room beyond. She could remember him this way, a warrior finally at peace after a noble victory. With her skill she would be there and gone without him ever knowing. As she crept inside, she was startled to find that her silence was unnecessary. Stoppable-san was not in his room. Terrified that the Dark One had found a way to take revenge, she burst out into the courtyard, fully intent on ringing the alarm. That's when she noticed the glow of candlelight through the rice paper screens of one of the older students' dorms. The flickering light cast shadows on the screen, revealing a human shape that swayed and writhed to an unheard melody. Swiftly, she approached and pressed an ear to the door, shocked at what she heard inside.
"Just a city boy, borrrn and raised in… SOUTH DETRRROIT!… He took the midnight train goin' an-y-WHERE!"
She threw open the sliding door, revealing Stoppable-san standing with his shirt open, holding a bo staff like a microphone stand. Across from him sat three of the older male students, wide-eyed at her sudden entrance. The room smelled like it had been hosed down with sake. Empty jars and saucers littered the floor. Yori understood instantly what had happened. Sending death glares to her fellow students, she took the American boy by his arm and led him out into the night.
"Heeeyy, Yori!" he slurred happily. "Come to watch me get my karaoke on? Me and the guys totally were totally rockin' 'We Are the Champions' a minute ago. Well okay, I had to carry them a little on the verses… and the chorus… but I think Hoshi was pretty close to getting it towards the end. Ahhhh, good times."
/Stupid, dishonorable pigs!/ Yori vented softly in her native tongue before turning look at Ron, eyes filled with righteous anger. "Master-Sensei will hear of their disgraceful behavior!"
"Disgraceful?" wondered Ron. "I'll admit they did to Queen what William Hung did to Ricky Martin, but I wouldn't say… Wait. Are you talking about the tea ceremony?
"Tea ceremony?" she repeated, his unexpected question stopping her dead in her tracks.
"Aw, man! Please don't get them in trouble for that!" he begged, staggering slightly when she dropped his arm. "They said they weren't supposed to show me 'cause I'm an outsider and all, but they said that they didn't care. That I'm a warrior hero and all that junk, so they were gonna teach me anyway. They said it'd really impress you."
"Impress… me?" Yori's building anger at the other students fled momentarily as she tried to process what he'd just told her, though he didn't give her much time before he was speaking again.
"But you want to know what's got me really impressed? Now, I'm no slouch when it comes to extreme feats of dietary daring do. I mean I can guzzle down enough Diablo Sauce to spit a jet of fire longer than your arm and then turn around and ask for seconds. But that tea, WHOO! Oh, man! It took every ounce of self-control… heh, who knew I had any of that? It took every ounce of my self-control not to spew all over the place. And, from what I hear, people in this country drink tea like every day. Anyhoo, the guys were really patient with me. Every time I screwed up, they'd pour me another one and let me start over. You know, looking back, the stuff actually tastes a lot better once you get used to it."
The anger that had been driven away by his unguarded comment came back with a vengeance. How dare they deceive one so pure and trusting as Stoppable-san? If she had not found him when she had, if they'd forced any more of that poison down his throat… She'd already formed an impressive list of appropriate tortures for them when she realized his drunken ramblings had shifted focus away from Japan, strong tea, and "the guys."
"My buddy Wade back in the States, he always had this thing for the Japanese schoolgirl look and I never really got it before. Then, suddenly, I step off the plane and see you and I get it. Oh boy, do I get it. And, to top it all off, you're actually nice to me. Nice! I mean, sure, I was expecting polite, but if somebody told me last week that some smokin' hot ninjitsu warrior princess I'd only just met was gonna treat me like she actually likes having me around… Let's just say I'd have pre-booked the rubber room. Come to think of it, how come only crazy people get to have padded walls? Seriously, how fun would that be?"
Yori couldn't help giggling a little, even as she blushed. She'd never met anyone who affected her this way. Most the boys she trained with were so serious, so proper. Those others that had any sense of humor delighted in mean-spirited teasing like Fukushima or those three idiots and their "tea ceremony."
He was so wonderfully different. Never too proud to share his jokes with her, even at his own expense. As they walked on, the boy not so subtly leading her away from Sensei's chambers, he stumbled into her a bit and instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist to catch himself. Any other time, she might have blushed deeper and enjoyed the contact, but now it only served to remind her of Master Sensei's warnings against strong drink.
/Wine is a thief, my students,/ he had told them. /It can rob you of your self-control, your dignity, and even the most precious of secrets./
Thinking back, she realized how free Stoppable-san had been with his words, especially now as he spoke about her. Not that he'd ever been at a loss for words in the short time she'd known him, but she'd had enough training in the art of reading people to know the subjects he was less eager to talk about. There was none of that same hesitation now, she noticed. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness on her part. There was a question she'd wanted to ask him for some time, but she had never found the courage. Instinctively, she led him to a secluded corner of the courtyard, confident that they would not be seen. She waited a moment, wondering if he was going to withdraw from her now that they'd stopped. Instead, he leaned back against the stone wall, taking her right along with him.
"Stoppable-san?" she asked, timidly. "May I ask you something?"
"Okay," he said, shooting her a lop-sided grin. "But only on one condition."
"I… but... what condition, Stoppable-san?" She certainly hadn't expected this.
"Ron," he said, leaning in closer. "You gotta call me 'Ron.' I know, I know. It's not gonna be easy. Those one-syllable names are tough, but I'll be right here to talk you through it, just like you helped me with the ninja stuff. Okay? Okay. First sound: the 'R'. Now, you're gonna have to really dig down deep for this. You gotta feel it in your chest. RRRRRrrrrrrr… Now you."
"Stoppable-san…" she tried to protest, his closeness affecting her more than she wanted to admit.
Without a word he snatched her hand and placed it palm-down on his chest.
"RRRRRRRrrrrrr!" it was more insistent this time, the deep vibrations sending shivers through her arm that shot straight into her core.
He looked expectantly into her eyes. When all she could manage was a tiny "Rrrr…" he shook his head in disapproval. Before she could try again, she watched in shock as he leaned in and pressed a large ear firmly against her chest.
"From in here," he said, not sounding the least bit embarrassed by what he was doing. "Now, try it again."
She could feel her heart pounding and it didn't help that she knew he not only felt it too, he could hear it. Since that was the case, it made sense that he would try to find a spot on her chest that wasn't quite so loud… which would explain why he was methodically sliding the side of his face across the dark fabric of her uniform.
"RRRrrrRRRRRRrrrrr…" a sound like a tigress purring escaped before she could stop herself, and she saw the pride in his smile when he'd lifted his head again.
"Good. Second sound: the 'aaah'. This one's easy, trust me," he spoke encouragingly but, in a rare moment of observation, noticed that she was too mortified to do anything but stand there and turn red.
Again, he took matters into his own hands or, in this case, fingertips. Very lightly, he traced the outline of her lips, stopping at the top then slowly grazing the soft flesh on his way down to her chin. Lazily he started drawing invisible circles on the sensitive skin between her chin and neck before lifting his hand again and cupping the side of her face, brushing the pad of his thumb back and forth over her bottom lip as he did so.
"Just open up and say 'aaaahhh'," he whispered, pressing his body even tighter against hers.
"Aah!" she gasped out, unconsciously leaning her face into his palm.
"Very good!" his smile warmed her like the summer sun and, in the dim light of the watch fires, his wine-clouded eyes glowed with happiness. "Now, here comes the really tricky part… The last sound: 'Nnnn'. For this one, it's gonna take some tongue play."
Her breath caught in her throat at the implications as she watched him run his tongue over his lips, moving slowly enough to allow for a flood of improper thoughts to rush through her mind. As she stared at the flecks of light on his now wet lips, she unconsciously mirrored the action herself.
"Mmm-hmm, that's right," he said, with a slight nod of approval. "Now, you keep those lips open and you take your tongue and jam it up against the roof of your mouth. Once you got that… just make a little noise."
"Nnnnn…" it came out in an almost pained whimper.
"Now," he pulled his arm from around her waist and cradled her face with both hands. "Just put 'em all together.
"Ron-san," she breathed, her voice thick as she wondered if he had any idea what he was doing to her.
And then, just like that, his hands withdrew and he folded his arms in front of his chest. She felt her body move to follow when he spoke again, calling her back to reality.
"See? Knew you could do it," he said, sounding genuinely pleased with the simple accomplishment. "So? Go ahead, ask me anything."
"Ron-san…" she began, more desperate than before to have her question answered. "Do you have someone in America? A lady friend?"
"Oh yeah," he answered immediately, the words cutting her deep. "Actually my best friend happens to be a… Hang on. Did you just ask me if I have a girlfriend? Me? Ron Stoppable? With a girl?"
The tears that threatened were blinked away before they'd fully formed as he surprised her once again. He started laughing. He laughed so hard it sent him staggering, his wobbly legs forcing him straight back into the wall where he leaned forward, almost bent double, and clutched at his sides. It took more than a minute for him to straighten up, still chuckling.
"You know, you're the first girl on any continent to ever ask me that," he said, thoughtfully. "And I've spent time on pretty much all of them. No. The answer is no. I don't have anybody like that waiting for me in America. Or anywhere else for that matter. I'm one of a special breed of Losers. You ever hear of something called the 'Food Chain'?"
"Yes," she said, rather confused at the random question. "Sensei requires that we learn from a great many subjects in addition to our ninjitsu training. The 'Food Chain,' it is a chart to track the connection of predator and prey animals, is it not? The larger animal eats the smaller?"
"That would be the regular Food Chain, yes," he said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "Now High School, that has its own Food Chain. Who can date who, who's allowed to hang out and where they can do it. I'm somewhere below the bottom. That makes me the equivalent of gum on the sidewalk. Mostly, nobody notices I'm there and, the few that do, look at me like the world would be a better place if I just dried up and blew away."
There had never been such pain in his voice before when they'd spoken before, and she'd seen him laugh off injuries inflicted by monkey ninjas, the other Yamanouchi students, and, most commonly, himself. He wasn't holding anything back, and this intense bitterness had obviously been kept hidden for some time.
'How blind can American women be,' she thought in disbelief. 'That they could not see what I have seen in only a few short days?'
"Oh, but do I try to do anything about it?" he asked rhetorically. "Of course not. Like I said, I'm not your average Loser. I am the Über-Loser. The Alpha Loser. Like I'd ever have the guts to tell them 'Hey, I'm a human being too, damn it!' I'd be scared of my own shadow if it was shaped like somebody other than me because, let's face it, nobody's scared of me.
"Man, if only I wasn't so scared of everything I'd… You know what I'd do? What I should'a done that night you kissed me. If it wasn't for all this stupid fear…"
He stopped there for a moment, suddenly looking deep in thought. She was about to speak when he moved with surprising speed, his hands on her waist, and switched their positions so that she was leaning against the stone and he was leaning dangerously close to her.
"Well, what do you know," he mused, his voice much huskier than before. "I'm fresh out of stupid fear."
Before she could think to stop him, he kissed her. There were traces of the rice wine on his lips, but she found herself enjoying the taste underneath it. Too soon, he pulled back and smiled.
"Thanks for walking me to my room," he said, inclining his head towards the guest room less than three meters from where they were standing.
She tried to find the words, those rational words that had convinced her to take one final look and then let him go. He found his words much more easily, and it seemed like those words had been hiding very close to her ear, because Ron had felt compelled to press himself against her, his freckled cheek rubbing softly against hers along the way.
"Funny thing," he whispered, "now that we're here, I'm suddenly not so tired anymore."
Her legs were weak as he led them into the room. Their lips never parted as he gently lowered her onto the floor mat he'd been using in lieu of a bed. Again, he stopped and she whimpered softly, despite herself. She immediately saw that his eyes were no longer fogged with drunkenness.
"Yori," he said, slightly out of breath, as he propped himself up on his arms. "This… this is big."
For the umpteenth time that night, Yori felt the rising heat on her face as it colored, but could not help it as she let her eyes wander downward. He arched an eyebrow in confusion, until he looked down as well. Now, it was his turn to blush as he realized exactly where she was staring.
"I wasn't talking about THAT!" he insisted quickly, eliciting another soft giggle from the ninja girl, but the nervous expression soon turned serious. "I mean this, us. Are you sure this is what you want?"
"Yes, Ron-san," she could feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes as she nodded and softly asked him the same question.
"I…" she could see him struggling to put what he felt into words. "I don't think I've ever wanted anything more."
Yori idly wondered how she could have lived her life as one half of a whole and never realized it until she joined with him.
It was an hour before sunrise when she woke, still happily entwined with him and very warm despite the cold outside and the thinness of the blankets. She was about to drift off again when she realized what had awakened her in the first place. Master-Sensei was standing at the open sliding door with a look of subdued anger and ultimate disappointment. He didn't need to speak. She didn't wait for him to turn as she slid out of the young man's arms and dressed herself, and then walked with head bowed towards her teacher who closed the door behind them. Ron, after hours of strenuous physical activity, followed by hours of drinking, followed by hours of more pleasant strenuous physical activity, didn't stir once as she left him. The old man said nothing until they were deep within his chambers, where he his nearly legendary composure shattered like glass.
/Shameless girl!/ he roared, raising a hand as if to strike her. /You would willingly debase yourself in this manner, seducing one who has done so much for us?/
/But Master, I did not--/ her voice was weak in the face of his harsh words, but his hand shot palm-out to silence her.
/I already know. True, you were not responsible for his intoxication, the guilty parties confessed on their own in the hope of leniency, but the wine impaired Stoppable-san's judgment, not your own! Did I not teach you to have more restraint than a wild dog in heat?/ he spoke with a coldness she had never heard directed at her, not once since she had been brought to the school as an orphaned child. /You will return to your quarters and you are forbidden to leave until after the Chosen One has departed./
He turned and expected to feel her presence depart from him, but she let out a quiet sob and lurched forward, clutching at the back of his robes. She knew it went against everything she had been taught about what was proper, but she didn't care. She begged him not to separate her from her love. He turned back, showing less of a Master's displeasure and more of a fatherly concern. Gently, he held her and allowed his voice to soften.
/My child, the boy's mind had been poisoned by the wine. Whatever his words or actions last night, he was not thinking clearly. It is likely that he will not even remember them./
/No!/ Yori wouldn't let herself believe it and she pleaded even harder to return to her lover's side. /It was not the drink! Even if it stole away his judgment, it did not put those feelings in his heart. I felt it, Master! He loves me, I know that he does! Please, do not take him from me./
The old man relented, but made her promise to give no indication to Stoppable-san of what had gone on the night before. She agreed. He would remember.
So, she met him at the gates of Yamanouchi. She knew he couldn't leave. This was all another of his American-style jokes. Any second he would turn and rush into her arms and promise to always be by her side. It wasn't until he had crossed the very last board of the ancient rope bridge that her legs failed her. As she knelt there, broken, a few stray words sung horribly off key wafted in the mountain air…
"Don't stop… believing…"
Master-Sensei gave her a few days to herself, but soon did what only a teacher could to help her situation. He provided her with a lesson. Stoppable-san became a metaphor for worldly attachment. He was the chain that bound Yori to the weakness of flesh, the shackles that prevented her from true enlightenment. She would focus on the pain of his absence and slowly learn to distance herself from that pain. It worked, somewhat. The crushing weight in her chest numbed. She rarely cried herself to sleep. Training helped to fill the void that Stoppable-san had left in his ignorance. It was then that she found herself depending more and more on Master-Sensei. He was her rock, her stability. And then, a little less than three months later, he was gone, taken by the Dark One, and she was afraid. So afraid that she did something she knew would only serve to break her heart again. She went to America and brought back the Chosen One.
He still had no memory of that night, but she'd prepared herself for that. What she hadn't prepared for was that… woman. Skilled, brave, probably considered beautiful in her homeland, and treating her beloved like some pet dog. Together, the three of them rescued her master, Yori playing her part and pushing aside her feelings to do it. Once the two had left, Master Sensei shocked her as he practically exploded in anger.
/What did you hope to accomplish, involving the Stoppable-san in Yamanouchi matters!?! Do you think so little of your fellow students that you would not look to their strength first?/
/I only wished for your safe return, Master,/ she stammered, shocked that he would speak to her this way for trying to help him. /We had all tried and failed in our search for you. Ro… the Chosen One, he is connected to the Power the Dark One possesses. He was your only hope./
/If you trusted in his abilities so completely, why did you feel it necessary to follow after him?/ he asked, accusation clear in his tone. /He and Possible-san have undertaken such missions countless times before. Because of your disturbing lack of faith in the Chosen One, you needlessly endangered your own life./
/I…/ she found herself losing the will to argue. /I was in error, Master. Please, forgive me./
The old man seemed to shrink before her eyes, physically and spiritually exhausted by the events of the past few days. He looked every bit of his more than eighty years of life, more than half of that time spent as a master level ninja. His expression softened as did his voice.
/Were you hurt, child?/ he looked her over as he asked, worry etched into his features.
The question itself was surprising. Small injuries were a given on even the simplest of missions and more severe wounds would have been noticeable. While she was relieved that he'd calmed down, the sudden concern made no sense.
/No,/ she answered hesitantly. /No more than can be expected from the work that we do./
/I will summon the school doctor,/ he said, firmly. /Some injuries are not so obvious, even to the injured themselves./
/Master, this is unnecessary,/ she tried to reason. /You have taught me to know my own body, and I am sure the doctor would only confirm what I have already said./
/For my own peace of mind, then,/ he gestured for her to sit on one of the softer cushions that dotted the floor of his chambers.
Kanzou Takemori had graduated from Yamanouchi several decades ago, and had since devoted his life to the study of medicine, earning degrees in both traditional and Western medical practices. His free clinic was funded by the school and, in return, he was expected to treat the students for illnesses or any wound that was too severe to heal on its own. As he entered, pushing a cart filled a wide assortment of diagnostic machines, he gave an apologetic smile to the young woman who had been a patient of his for nearly her whole life. He set up his equipment with quickness one would expect from a former student of ninjitsu, making small talk as he did so. Yori found herself growing more at ease as he told stories featuring his assistant, Kawamura-san, to whom he'd been trying teach English with limited success.
/I tell him American English is different from the English in his books, but he does not listen,/ he explained, calibrating the last of his instruments. /So, I sent him in to speak with an American tourist who came in with lower back pains. Kawamura-san comes out after two minutes and asks for a cold compress./
/To reduce the swelling?/ she asked, knowing some basic medicine thanks to her instruction in first aid.
/Yes… but not for the patient, for his eye,/ the doctor chuckled, eyes shining behind his rimless glasses. /Kawamura-san suspected the problem had to do with misaligned vertebrae and decided to manually examine the spinal column to make sure, so he said to him "Please undress yourself and turn around. I would like to feel you up."/
/Oh no!/ she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter and the poor assistant's expense. /So the patient hit him?/
/Right before he threatened to have my license revoked for allowing perverts to work in my office,/ he took a deep breath to drive away the last of his own laughter and took his stethoscope from around his neck. /Okay, we can begin. I will need you to remove your uniform for the examination. Please do not hit me!/
She smiled at his joke and did as instructed, laying her folded keikogi on the floor beside her. The examination began like any of the dozens of others she'd undergone during her years at the school, but soon took a turn for the absolutely bizarre. He ran tests she had never seen before, some involving areas she'd only previously exposed to one other man. At her questioning stare, the doctor nervously ran a hand over his bald head and looked to Master-Sensei, as though silently asking permission, to which he nodded, gravely. Yori had to know, or else risk her doing something equally dangerous in the future.
/I have completed my examination,/ Kanzou said, carefully. /And I find you to be in perfect health… both you and your child./
The news had only just sunk in when she jumped up from her seat and broke into a run. Ron-san would be at the airfield by now. She had to get to him before he took off. She hadn't gotten more than thirty feet before she stopped short, Master-Sensei standing directly in her path.
/Yori, return to your rooms!/ he ordered. /You must concentrate on your meditation./
Saying nothing, she tried to push past him, but he would not allow it.
/The child you carry is from a man who is not your husband,/ he reminded as held the struggling girl. /Only I can shield you from the consequences of this great dishonor./
She fought against him even harder. Then, he said something that made her stop short.
/Stoppable-san is not ready to care for a child,/ he told her,as close to pleading as he had ever come since becoming the master of Yamanouchi. /To force your way into his life now would lead only to a lifetime of resentment. Have I not always taught you that Destiny is absolute? If Fate has joined two souls, no force on Earth can keep them apart forever. Give the boy time to grow, to become the man who can give your child the life it deserves./
Against the outcry of her spirit, Yori agreed. She could not bear to have him hate her for burdening him. He would come back to her. They were connected by this new life growing inside her. That life became her focus for the six months following. No matter the pain that she endured, she was happy because she knew it was her price to pay for her family. She didn't dare say the word aloud, but she smiled every time she thought it. Family.
It was late in the ninth month when the pain grew so great that she summoned the doctor, knowing the child was coming. Hours of pain like she'd never felt before, but she suffered them willingly. She felt that second life leaving her and heard a single perfect cry that told her that the greatest work of her life was completed. Exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep. She awoke and, to her surprise, it was several hours later, her child nowhere to be seen. Master-Sensei was standing by her bedside looking solemn. She found a hoarse and quivering voice to ask about her child. The wailing scream that followed his answer could be heard echoing down the mountain.
Five months later, Mr. Stoppable walked around his car to open the passenger door. Carefully he helped his wife to her feet and together, along with the precious bundle asleep in her arms, they walked up the path to their home. Mrs. Stoppable looked at her husband and then back down at the infant, looking so peaceful, so perfect, as her wild mess of dark hair flowed over the golden hue of her forehead. Mr. Stoppable fumbled with his house keys for a moment before he heard a soft cooing that told him his newly adopted daughter had finished her nap. He looked into her blinking eyes, those big, beautiful eyes. They were what had caught his attention at the adoption agency, truth be told. For reasons he didn't fully understand, when he looked into those deep brown eyes, he knew that she was family
Author's Notes
For anyone who's interested, I'm taking a short break from SideTrekked to recharge and explore some other story ideas. I wanted this to be sort of a departure from the stuff I usually do. Note the distinct lack of "Humor" in the genre category. Sadly, I wasn't able to completely turn my back on my comedic roots. Drunken Ron Stoppable was simply too good to pass up and Dr. Takemori, as well as his assistant Kawamura-san, were based on my old Japanese professor and his TA (and, yes, their relationship really did revolve around Takemori-sensei mercilessly teasing him about everything from his love life to his lack of skill at tongue twisters… which, now that I think about it, may have been part of the reason why his love life was suffering).This is going to be a two-shot story, the second part taking place immediately after the episode "Oh No, Yono!" and will probably keep the same level of "Tragedy" with a lot more of the "Mystery" that seemed to be lacking in this first part.
As for where this story comes from, I'm sure a few of you have read at least one story where it's suggested that Yori was Hana's biological mother. When I first came up with the idea for this story, I hadn't read any of them (basing my idea mostly on the fact that Ron seems to be more attentive to Hana than his own parents ever were to him as well as the fact that she's freakin' asian and the only other major female character of asian descent just happens to go to a school run by the guy responsible for the adoption… babies don't grow in cabbage patches, people!) but, now that I've perused them a bit, I wanted to make sure that my Yori wasn't so darn accepting, hell, upbeat about the whole thing.
In a world where so many authors, including myself, have resigned themselves to the fact that Ron is the sole property of Kim Possible, I've tried to give a nice ninja girl one magical evening with the man she loves. Please let me know what you think.
Blessed be,
-Brother Bludgeon
Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley
Don't Stop Believing written by Steve Perry, Jonathan Cain, and Neal Schon of Journey