Ranma looked at her soda suspiciously. There was something curious about this. Her danger sense hadn't pricked, but still she was suspicious for some reason.
She started running a checklist. Her coordination was apparently unaffected, as indicated by the complex manipulations she was performing on the coin ine her hand.
Manipulations that were still going on while she was practically not paying attention. Deft finger moments that were attracting a lot of attention from the women in her immediate area at the bar.
She took another coin in her other hand and was slowly but surely crushing it into an almost perfectly smooth metal marble between her finger and thumb. This particular event went mostly unnoticed, but proved that both Ranma's senses, at least the visual and tactile ones, and strength were unaffected. Though granted, it was a rather pitiful demonstration of strength.
She sniffed about and managed, after a great deal of difficulty, to pick out the individual scents of the women around her. So her sense of smell was normal. And she could hear their hearts beating, some of them rather rapidly for some reason, so his hearing was fine.
What was bothering her was that some of her thoughts were fuzzy. She had been very sad, too the point of killing herself even, but she couldn't remember why. Something to do with Akane, but it wasn't really Akane, it was...she couldn't remember the name. But Akane and the other woman were connected closely somehow.
She vaguely remembered Nabiki telling her to forget about Akane, and Nabiki had been worried. Ranma couldn't remember why though.
In her confusion, she took another sip from her glass, and momentarily forgetting what she was suspicious about. Then suddenly, she was confused again.
~There was something bothering me,~ she thought. ~What was it?~ She shrugged and took another drink from her soda, and promptly forgot she was suspicious about anything. There was some nameless longing in her mind that she could feel slowly getting stronger.
Upon sensing that, however, she took another sip of her soda and the nameless longing seemingly vanished. Of course Ranma could still just barely feel it, but it would be awhile before it would be strong again.
"I'd be your willing slave for all my life if you just came home with me right now," one of the women next to her said. She was virtually drooling over the sight of Ranma's fingers still engaging in physics-defying feats of agility.
The comment brought forth a resurgance of that longing, and a faded look entered Ranma's eyes for a moment. She took a long drink of her soda, before her mind remembered enough to be suspicious of it. Then she was back to that state of blissful, if moderately confused, ignorance.
"Uh...no thanks," Ranma said nervously.
She stood up and took her drink to walk nervously to another part of the bar. She sweatdropped as one of the women fell off her stool in trying to visually follow the path Ranma was taking.
"What kind of place did Nabiki send me," Ranma asked herself quietly. She must have been half-asleep when she agreed to this, she could barely remember the conversation at all. "Man, Akane is going to kill me if she hears about this."
"And why is my hair green?" Ranma asked no one in particular. She finished her soda in one final gulp and blinked, looking around the room in confusion.
The situation really should have bothered her. She knew that, it really should have. There was something about being a room full of women that seemed inherently dangerous. She couldn't guess why considering she was a woman herself, but that feeling was there.
All she could see, however, were a lot of women talking, dancing, and drinking. In some shaded corners she could see women making out a little, and some vague part of her mind told her that should be a danger sign as well, but she couldn't see why. It was weird, it was as if she was troubled by the idea that nothing was troubling her. Like that was a foreign situation somehow.
"Do you need another drink?" the woman before her asked. The woman pointed at her glass, empty save for the ice.
"Not of that," Ranma said. "That stuff is making me feel funny."
"How do you mean?" the woman asked, leaning forward cautiously.
"I don't know," Ranma said. "I feel like I'm missing something." The woman nodded and took the glass, with the slowly melting ice, and surreptitiously dumped the ice into the trash can.
"What's your name?" the woman asked.
"Ranma," Ranma said. "Ranma Saotome. Nabiki sent me here..." That was the clearest thing about her situation she could remember. "I can't remember why..."
"Maybe something a little weaker than Lethe water then," the woman suggested.
"Is that some kinda alcohol?" Ranma asked. "I ordered soda."
"It's not alcohol," the woman said. "The management provides it to some of our patrons as a way to forget their troubles."
"So...what was I troubled about?" Ranma asked, hesitantly.
"I don't know," the woman answered. "I'm the manager on duty and I don't remember you ordering any. Perhaps you received it on accident."
"So this stuff I drank made me forget stuff about my life and you're telling me its an accident?" Ranma said bitterly.
"I wouldn't worry," the woman said. "We keep nothing pure here. Tomorrow, maybe sometime in the afternoon, everything will begin to come back. Until then, enjoy the release from whatever burdens you did have. I'm sure there are many women here that would love to share your company." Ranma blushed faintly.
There was a reluctance in the woman's voice as she told Ranma to enjoy herself, as if she would rather Ranma enjoy herself somewhere else.
"Uh, thanks," Ranma said.
"No problem," the manager said. "Now, as an apology, I think I'll give you a drink on the house." She produced a brightly colored drink and set it down in front of Ranma.
"Is that alcoholic?" Ranma asked.
"Mostly fruit juice," the woman said. "It's called a kamikaze. And yes it is alcoholic, but perhaps you shouldn't worry about that."
"Nah," Ranma said. "I guess not." She shrugged and took the drink in hand. "Thanks." She smiled at the manager, who bowed and walked away.
*****
"Okay," Kiyone said, noting Minagi's rather grim face. The one that said, "we're supposed to be dancing" "Minagi and I are going to go dancing. Are you okay on your own?" Minagi's face brightened immeasurably.
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Minagi said, standing up quickly.
"Of course I shall be fine," Ayeka said. "I shall sit here and enjoy my saki and ignore this place you've brought me to."
"Uh right," Kiyone said.
"See, she's fine," Minagi said. "Let's go." Then she dragged Kiyone off to the dance floor.
"Someone shall have to speak to Kiyone about giving Minagi proper attention," Ayeka muttered as she reached for the bottle of saki, her second. She froze for a moment. "I do not believe I just said that."
This really wasn't much of a start for her yet. She was not a serious drinker, no, not at all. She could go for whole weeks without touching a drop. Not like Ryoko, who could go through incredible amounts of saki before she began to get drunk. Ayeka knew this from the times she had joined Ryoko in the activity. Of course, the fact that she kept up with Ryoko drink for drink did not register. Nor did the fact that it had been some months since she last abstained.
So far no one had made a pass at her. Perhaps it was the rather palpable aura of ill mood that surrounded her. Perhaps it was the body language. It couldn't be because no one was interested in her. Ayeka sipped her saki and glowered, tapping her foot impatiently.
What was wrong with these people? Here was a pure sample of royal Jurai perfection and not one of these people could be bothered to even make an attempt at a pass on her? Was she really in a lesbian dance club, or was that police officer merely playing some manner of sick joke on her.
Ayeka blinked and looked around suspiciously. Perhaps Ryoko was behind all of this. She had to be somehow. Only Ryoko would dare stick her in a situation where she could expect to spend the entire night receiving unwanted solicitations from misguided women who no-doubt would instantly recognize her true worth, and then ensure that no such solicitations would come. It had to be some twisted, sick plot to destroy Ayeka's confidence in her beauty and feminity.
"Well," a voice said. "Looks like you're finally alone." Ayeka turned around to see a striking blonde woman staring at her with an appreciative glance.
"Hmph," Ayeka said. "I was beginning to think no one would try anything." The blonde blinked at the phrasing and hostile attitude, then smiled again.
"I don't know what you mean by 'try anything,' honey," the blonde said. She glided into a seat beside the drunk Ayeka and leaned over. "I just wanted a chance to talk to you without the cops watching over us."
"Cops?" Ayeka said, drunk enough not to notice the magnitude of Sara's proximity. "Ah, you mean Officer Kiyone. Really, Kiyone is quite a civilized conversationalist," she frowned grimmly. "Under most circumstances."
"I wouldn't know," Sara said. "I try to avoid police outside the United States. No offense to your country, but it's better safe than sorry when you're a foreigner."
"I see," Ayeka said. She finished her cup of saki and started to reach for her bottle.
"Ah, let me help you with that," Sara said. She reached past Ayeka, softly brushing against Ayeka's arm as she took the bottle and a cup and poured out a serving of saki for Ayeka. She presented the small cup formally. "Here you are my lady."
"My thanks," Ayeka said, in her semi-drunken state not recognizing either the hollow praise or the slight brush against her skin. Sara sidled closer to Ayeka as she determined a little of Ayeka's level of distraction.
"Don't mention it," Sara said, smiling surperiorly.
The poor woman had no idea what she was dealing with.
*****
Ranma stared at her drink, wondering if she should drink it or not. She was discovering that the lethe water, apparently, did not take the ability to worry or dislike something away. It apparently just took away memories that were causing one to be angry, upset or worried at the moment.
The entire "mistake" thing seemed fishy to her. It sounded like the sort of thing you'd tell someone who noticed they were missing pieces of information in order to keep them from worrying about said missing information. If she hadn't ordered it, and they hadn't given it to her, then obviously whatever problems she had were of little to no consequence. Ranma had this sinking suspicion that come tomorrow she was going to be hating life. Especially since the gaps in her memory were rather huge right now.
The alcoholic beverage in front of her wasn't a memory erasing concoction, she didn't think so anyway, but it would certainly serve to let her not think about it for a little while. Now the only question was, did Ranma really feel like laying down her defenses.
"Hey, you moved," a voice said. Ranma blinked and looked towards the voice, trying to place the woman.
"Excuse me," she said. "Do I know you?"
"Whoa," the dark-haired girl said. "How many of those have you had? I talked just an hour ago or so."
"Uhh, right," Ranma said. "Sorry, you're..."
"Keiko," the woman said, seating herself next to Ranma. "So, getting used to the club, Ranma?"
"Sort of," Ranma said hesitantly. The woman looked Ranma over carefully, a slightly confused look in her eyes. She was obviously looking for signs that Ranma had been drinking and not finding many.
"So," she said hesitantly. "How's the drink?"
"Oh," Ranma said. "I haven't tried it yet."
"Well, why don't you finish it, and then you can take me up on that offer of a dance I gave you earlier," Keiko asked. Ranma looked at her glass and hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath.
"Ah, to hell with it," she said. She drank the glass down and scrunched her face together a little. "Kinda fruity, but it tastes like cough syrup, bleh!"
"That's the alcohol," Keiko said. "The taste goes away after a drink or two. Not a drinker are you?'
"Don't think so," Ranma said hesitantly. She considered that for a moment. Keiko missed the pensive moment as she smirked at the idea of Ranma being an inexperienced drinker. She'd be easy to rope in quietly.
"Heh, well, we'll see about that," she said. "Now about that dance." She leaned and passed a hand along Ranma's side. Ranma shivered and smiled at the touch.
"Oh, that feels good," she said, purring almost.
"And there's more were that came from," Keiko said. "On the dance floor."
"Cool," Ranma said, sighing. Then continued in a rather insistent voice. "Just dancing though, right?"
"A little rude to do anything else out here, isn't it?" Keiko asked.
"I guess so," Ranma said, smirking a little. Well, if she was going to be in hell tomorrow might as well have some fun today.
Note: the comment about Ranma's heritage and the whole perverted demon thing are both making fun of such repeated things happening in fanfic quite often
She started running a checklist. Her coordination was apparently unaffected, as indicated by the complex manipulations she was performing on the coin ine her hand.
Manipulations that were still going on while she was practically not paying attention. Deft finger moments that were attracting a lot of attention from the women in her immediate area at the bar.
She took another coin in her other hand and was slowly but surely crushing it into an almost perfectly smooth metal marble between her finger and thumb. This particular event went mostly unnoticed, but proved that both Ranma's senses, at least the visual and tactile ones, and strength were unaffected. Though granted, it was a rather pitiful demonstration of strength.
She sniffed about and managed, after a great deal of difficulty, to pick out the individual scents of the women around her. So her sense of smell was normal. And she could hear their hearts beating, some of them rather rapidly for some reason, so his hearing was fine.
What was bothering her was that some of her thoughts were fuzzy. She had been very sad, too the point of killing herself even, but she couldn't remember why. Something to do with Akane, but it wasn't really Akane, it was...she couldn't remember the name. But Akane and the other woman were connected closely somehow.
She vaguely remembered Nabiki telling her to forget about Akane, and Nabiki had been worried. Ranma couldn't remember why though.
In her confusion, she took another sip from her glass, and momentarily forgetting what she was suspicious about. Then suddenly, she was confused again.
~There was something bothering me,~ she thought. ~What was it?~ She shrugged and took another drink from her soda, and promptly forgot she was suspicious about anything. There was some nameless longing in her mind that she could feel slowly getting stronger.
Upon sensing that, however, she took another sip of her soda and the nameless longing seemingly vanished. Of course Ranma could still just barely feel it, but it would be awhile before it would be strong again.
"I'd be your willing slave for all my life if you just came home with me right now," one of the women next to her said. She was virtually drooling over the sight of Ranma's fingers still engaging in physics-defying feats of agility.
The comment brought forth a resurgance of that longing, and a faded look entered Ranma's eyes for a moment. She took a long drink of her soda, before her mind remembered enough to be suspicious of it. Then she was back to that state of blissful, if moderately confused, ignorance.
"Uh...no thanks," Ranma said nervously.
She stood up and took her drink to walk nervously to another part of the bar. She sweatdropped as one of the women fell off her stool in trying to visually follow the path Ranma was taking.
"What kind of place did Nabiki send me," Ranma asked herself quietly. She must have been half-asleep when she agreed to this, she could barely remember the conversation at all. "Man, Akane is going to kill me if she hears about this."
"And why is my hair green?" Ranma asked no one in particular. She finished her soda in one final gulp and blinked, looking around the room in confusion.
The situation really should have bothered her. She knew that, it really should have. There was something about being a room full of women that seemed inherently dangerous. She couldn't guess why considering she was a woman herself, but that feeling was there.
All she could see, however, were a lot of women talking, dancing, and drinking. In some shaded corners she could see women making out a little, and some vague part of her mind told her that should be a danger sign as well, but she couldn't see why. It was weird, it was as if she was troubled by the idea that nothing was troubling her. Like that was a foreign situation somehow.
"Do you need another drink?" the woman before her asked. The woman pointed at her glass, empty save for the ice.
"Not of that," Ranma said. "That stuff is making me feel funny."
"How do you mean?" the woman asked, leaning forward cautiously.
"I don't know," Ranma said. "I feel like I'm missing something." The woman nodded and took the glass, with the slowly melting ice, and surreptitiously dumped the ice into the trash can.
"What's your name?" the woman asked.
"Ranma," Ranma said. "Ranma Saotome. Nabiki sent me here..." That was the clearest thing about her situation she could remember. "I can't remember why..."
"Maybe something a little weaker than Lethe water then," the woman suggested.
"Is that some kinda alcohol?" Ranma asked. "I ordered soda."
"It's not alcohol," the woman said. "The management provides it to some of our patrons as a way to forget their troubles."
"So...what was I troubled about?" Ranma asked, hesitantly.
"I don't know," the woman answered. "I'm the manager on duty and I don't remember you ordering any. Perhaps you received it on accident."
"So this stuff I drank made me forget stuff about my life and you're telling me its an accident?" Ranma said bitterly.
"I wouldn't worry," the woman said. "We keep nothing pure here. Tomorrow, maybe sometime in the afternoon, everything will begin to come back. Until then, enjoy the release from whatever burdens you did have. I'm sure there are many women here that would love to share your company." Ranma blushed faintly.
There was a reluctance in the woman's voice as she told Ranma to enjoy herself, as if she would rather Ranma enjoy herself somewhere else.
"Uh, thanks," Ranma said.
"No problem," the manager said. "Now, as an apology, I think I'll give you a drink on the house." She produced a brightly colored drink and set it down in front of Ranma.
"Is that alcoholic?" Ranma asked.
"Mostly fruit juice," the woman said. "It's called a kamikaze. And yes it is alcoholic, but perhaps you shouldn't worry about that."
"Nah," Ranma said. "I guess not." She shrugged and took the drink in hand. "Thanks." She smiled at the manager, who bowed and walked away.
*****
"Okay," Kiyone said, noting Minagi's rather grim face. The one that said, "we're supposed to be dancing" "Minagi and I are going to go dancing. Are you okay on your own?" Minagi's face brightened immeasurably.
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Minagi said, standing up quickly.
"Of course I shall be fine," Ayeka said. "I shall sit here and enjoy my saki and ignore this place you've brought me to."
"Uh right," Kiyone said.
"See, she's fine," Minagi said. "Let's go." Then she dragged Kiyone off to the dance floor.
"Someone shall have to speak to Kiyone about giving Minagi proper attention," Ayeka muttered as she reached for the bottle of saki, her second. She froze for a moment. "I do not believe I just said that."
This really wasn't much of a start for her yet. She was not a serious drinker, no, not at all. She could go for whole weeks without touching a drop. Not like Ryoko, who could go through incredible amounts of saki before she began to get drunk. Ayeka knew this from the times she had joined Ryoko in the activity. Of course, the fact that she kept up with Ryoko drink for drink did not register. Nor did the fact that it had been some months since she last abstained.
So far no one had made a pass at her. Perhaps it was the rather palpable aura of ill mood that surrounded her. Perhaps it was the body language. It couldn't be because no one was interested in her. Ayeka sipped her saki and glowered, tapping her foot impatiently.
What was wrong with these people? Here was a pure sample of royal Jurai perfection and not one of these people could be bothered to even make an attempt at a pass on her? Was she really in a lesbian dance club, or was that police officer merely playing some manner of sick joke on her.
Ayeka blinked and looked around suspiciously. Perhaps Ryoko was behind all of this. She had to be somehow. Only Ryoko would dare stick her in a situation where she could expect to spend the entire night receiving unwanted solicitations from misguided women who no-doubt would instantly recognize her true worth, and then ensure that no such solicitations would come. It had to be some twisted, sick plot to destroy Ayeka's confidence in her beauty and feminity.
"Well," a voice said. "Looks like you're finally alone." Ayeka turned around to see a striking blonde woman staring at her with an appreciative glance.
"Hmph," Ayeka said. "I was beginning to think no one would try anything." The blonde blinked at the phrasing and hostile attitude, then smiled again.
"I don't know what you mean by 'try anything,' honey," the blonde said. She glided into a seat beside the drunk Ayeka and leaned over. "I just wanted a chance to talk to you without the cops watching over us."
"Cops?" Ayeka said, drunk enough not to notice the magnitude of Sara's proximity. "Ah, you mean Officer Kiyone. Really, Kiyone is quite a civilized conversationalist," she frowned grimmly. "Under most circumstances."
"I wouldn't know," Sara said. "I try to avoid police outside the United States. No offense to your country, but it's better safe than sorry when you're a foreigner."
"I see," Ayeka said. She finished her cup of saki and started to reach for her bottle.
"Ah, let me help you with that," Sara said. She reached past Ayeka, softly brushing against Ayeka's arm as she took the bottle and a cup and poured out a serving of saki for Ayeka. She presented the small cup formally. "Here you are my lady."
"My thanks," Ayeka said, in her semi-drunken state not recognizing either the hollow praise or the slight brush against her skin. Sara sidled closer to Ayeka as she determined a little of Ayeka's level of distraction.
"Don't mention it," Sara said, smiling surperiorly.
The poor woman had no idea what she was dealing with.
*****
Ranma stared at her drink, wondering if she should drink it or not. She was discovering that the lethe water, apparently, did not take the ability to worry or dislike something away. It apparently just took away memories that were causing one to be angry, upset or worried at the moment.
The entire "mistake" thing seemed fishy to her. It sounded like the sort of thing you'd tell someone who noticed they were missing pieces of information in order to keep them from worrying about said missing information. If she hadn't ordered it, and they hadn't given it to her, then obviously whatever problems she had were of little to no consequence. Ranma had this sinking suspicion that come tomorrow she was going to be hating life. Especially since the gaps in her memory were rather huge right now.
The alcoholic beverage in front of her wasn't a memory erasing concoction, she didn't think so anyway, but it would certainly serve to let her not think about it for a little while. Now the only question was, did Ranma really feel like laying down her defenses.
"Hey, you moved," a voice said. Ranma blinked and looked towards the voice, trying to place the woman.
"Excuse me," she said. "Do I know you?"
"Whoa," the dark-haired girl said. "How many of those have you had? I talked just an hour ago or so."
"Uhh, right," Ranma said. "Sorry, you're..."
"Keiko," the woman said, seating herself next to Ranma. "So, getting used to the club, Ranma?"
"Sort of," Ranma said hesitantly. The woman looked Ranma over carefully, a slightly confused look in her eyes. She was obviously looking for signs that Ranma had been drinking and not finding many.
"So," she said hesitantly. "How's the drink?"
"Oh," Ranma said. "I haven't tried it yet."
"Well, why don't you finish it, and then you can take me up on that offer of a dance I gave you earlier," Keiko asked. Ranma looked at her glass and hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath.
"Ah, to hell with it," she said. She drank the glass down and scrunched her face together a little. "Kinda fruity, but it tastes like cough syrup, bleh!"
"That's the alcohol," Keiko said. "The taste goes away after a drink or two. Not a drinker are you?'
"Don't think so," Ranma said hesitantly. She considered that for a moment. Keiko missed the pensive moment as she smirked at the idea of Ranma being an inexperienced drinker. She'd be easy to rope in quietly.
"Heh, well, we'll see about that," she said. "Now about that dance." She leaned and passed a hand along Ranma's side. Ranma shivered and smiled at the touch.
"Oh, that feels good," she said, purring almost.
"And there's more were that came from," Keiko said. "On the dance floor."
"Cool," Ranma said, sighing. Then continued in a rather insistent voice. "Just dancing though, right?"
"A little rude to do anything else out here, isn't it?" Keiko asked.
"I guess so," Ranma said, smirking a little. Well, if she was going to be in hell tomorrow might as well have some fun today.
Note: the comment about Ranma's heritage and the whole perverted demon thing are both making fun of such repeated things happening in fanfic quite often