Punishment Due
Disclaimer : In no way am i in any way affiliated with Marvel or any other company, nor do i make money off writing this. This was only a plot that's been twisting inside my head, till it turned into something that's a bit realistically possible.
Punisher
He exited the airplane, his eyes going towards airport security, the taped bag within his hands holding only a few changes of clothing, along with his favorite black shirt. Anything he would need would have to be bought in Japan, because customs here seemed to be a lot tighter than in America. As he looked at the clock, hearing people speak in Japanese, he knew that there would be some problems.
He watched the people move around him, his hand unconsciously going towards the small pocketknife he'd bought moments before, the Yen being a strange currency, but who was he to complain. As an announcer spoke in Japanese, something about a flight to New Delhi, he figured that he would better go, lest he attract undue attention. His hands went into his pockets, moving in a semi-hurried pace while still keeping an eye out for people that would give him another look. It never hurt to be prepared.
Saotome Ranma was currently not amused. He stood there in front of the class, looking at a sentence in English, seemingly having to fumble for words, his teacher giving him the evil eye, as did his Fiance, well, one of the unwanted ones. He looked at the sentence again, stopping in the middle as if he tried to get a good grasp on the language. "The dog had ran away wi-wi-without it's ownah." "Saotome-kun, please try to get the vowel right. "The dog had ran away without it's owner, with an er sound instead of an ah. Still, you pass. Take your seat. Class, open your textbooks on page 125, we will be reading that story to the class, every student assigned a part!"
"Would you like some help with your English, Ran-chan?" The voice of his old friend and unwanted fiance Ukyou came to his ears, making him swallow as he could feel the ki from his irrate fiance beginning to build up, his gaze on the book before him instead of giving an answer to the girl, as he should. "Come on, i saw you had problems there, could you just let this cute fiance help then?" In truth, he wanted nothing more than to shout at her that it wasn't necessary, that he shouldn't need the extra lessons because he spoke it passably, but he knew that it would be best to seemingly remain ignorant of some things.
His hands clenched as he sat in the taxi, the driver trying to speak decent english, but failing badly, the gargle of his English being much like that he'd heard the Yakuza speak whenever he encountered them. There was no mistaking for style, however, as the man did try. "So you wished to go to Nerima, right?" He nodded again, his eyes staring out the window, watching girls with an indecent length of skirt go by, his heart clenching a little as he remembered his little girl, the scream she made when she died and the rest of them all seemingly dying. He rubbed his chin, an itch coming to him all of a sudden, as he took a deep breath to steady himself a little. It would be tough to see for himself, he knew that the one he was looking for would be able to help him out.
Ranma looked at the pool as he watched the rest of the class do their PE, while he jus5t sat on a bench, his daily regimen of training easily doing the same exercises for him. To him, it did not even matter if he had to do pushups or do basketball, there would be some crazy nut-job out there who'd do something with martial arts basketball to give him a challenge, which involved the next basketball meeting being one with him playing and utterly obliterating the competition. To him, it was not fun anymore, as they always seemed to come back to haunt him again.
His gaze wandered to the girls playing, his eyes going over their forms and he shook his head a little. The fact that he showed little attention to girls was not because he didn't have any idea just how to act around girls, it was because he himself turned into one prime specimen of femininity, with big breasts, wide hips and a red mane of hair which was exotic. To him, there was not a single girl here that was not better looking than he was. Miss Hinako could be beautiful, he supposed, but she shifted between a little girl and a sex-bomb, which was not too good when you thought about it.
"RANMA NO BAKA!" Something flew through the air towards him, his natural instinct to dodge kicking in, watching as the bench he sat on was almost hit by something that resembled a glowing hammer, his eyes going towards the one who'd called him an idiot, his eyes beholding his glowing fiance, who truly seemed to have an issue with trust if she kept on glaring murderously at him. "Hello Akane, what did I do?"
"You were leering at the girls, you perverted baka!" When the glowing ki construct made contact with his skin, her flowed with it, the kinetic force redirected towards the ground on which he stood, making him fly towards the pool, his initial trajectory being more or less against the school wall, his back meeting the water first, leading to the sensation of cold water enveloping him completely, to allow the change to take place.
He could feel how his breasts seemed to grow to a size that would undoubtedly stretch the silk shirt he wore, or rather, she wore now, how the boys would stare and Akane would undoubtedly accuse him of being up to something perverted again. The feeling of his wedding tackle shrinking and being replaced by something that felt a lot different, his insides shifting to accommodate the same change to female being a very different sensation. If he had not been trained as well to ignore some pains, he had no doubt that it would hurt. That no other person but a martial artist would have a Jusenkyo curse made it less obvious, but he figured that if Akane was doused with the spring of drowned boy water once, she'd be screaming in agony because of the changes. It would feel much like how he would feel when hot water hit him.
"Arigatou Gozaimasu." He grunted something back at the Japanese man, holstering the gun he'd bought illegally, the taxi driver having waited patiently for him, the man's eyes going towards the new accesory. "Guns no good against Nerimians! They will eat sir for breakfast!" A grunt came from the man's lips, as the driver ignited the engine again, the taxi speeding along the way towards the Nerima ward, the man's eyes on the people around them, waiting for any threat, as the dark shirt he wore blended in pretty well with the seats in the back of the taxi.
"Damn tomboy tossing me in the water all the time. See how she ,likes it, that no-good martial artist can't even swim that well." He pulled the shirt off to wring it out, the fact that his upper body, now with female attributes, was exposed making most men in the vicinity look at the jiggling orbs, before she wrang out the shirt, the irrate symbol of feminine vengeance stalking over to her with a white-hot aura around her which actually seemed to put the air around her ablaze, instead of being a merely cosmetical object. "Why are you wringing out your shirt here, you pervert!"
"Because I don't have any other choice, or give them a worse view of my tits, macho tomboy!"A punch was narrowly dodged, as he looked at his fiance, her features enraged, making him dodge another haymaker, her hand caught at the last moment, as he stopped wringing out his shirt and slipped it on again, the red fabric still being slightly damp and he shivered, the goosebumps on his flesh showing.
"Class is ending, you'd better go to the clothing rooms or you won't make it for the next class." Ranma said, Akane huffing a little as he released her fist, the next one hitting him only because he allowed it, the feeling of kinetic force impacting with his cheek, sending him back a few paces being almost a delight to him, as he watched the superiority on her face, the image in her mind that she really was a martial artist being a grand self-delusion.
To Martial Artists such as him, she would only be a speck on the radar, just one showing promise, but no drive, or goal to achieve. All that Akane had, was some brute strength, but none of the skills or the stances that he or the others of the merry little band that he'd collected had. He watched her leave, his hand going to his cheek as he stretched a little, cracking his back a bit to get the muscles active again.
Next class was Mathematics, which didn't really catch his attention in any way, as he didn't really feel up for it. Akane kept glaring at him, while Ukyo seemed to be curious about his rebuttal of Akane. The questions that were asked by the math teacher didn't really seem to stir him, even as the class laughed at his attempt to solve a math problem, which he sheepishly laughed about too. Math wasn't something you did in Martial Arts, so it didn't really catch his attention all that much, so he had to get another lecture by his teacher about the merits of pursuing education seriously, while Akane seemed to be doing just fine, the shine of pride on her face making him ready to wipe it off her face, with a broom if necessary.
"Saotome, you're late with payment this week." He heard Nabiki come before she spokew, turning to her briefly before she appeared, her hands resting on her hips, her eyes looking at him and visibly deriding him as just some jock who she could bully around. "Hehe, i'll have it soon for you Nabs." Here, the girl started to smile in that shark-like grin, which didn't really put him at ease anyway. "You wouldn't like Akane-chan to see those pictures of you and Shampoo, now would you? Perhaps I just accidentally let them fall where she can pick them up and you'll be in a world of trouble then."
"I'll get the money tomorrow, okay?" At that moment, she smiled victoriously, the memory of being used by her when he had been her fiance for just a week or so coming to mind, the burning anger at being used in that manner blossoming to the forefront of his mind. He could feel the old rage starting to well up again, memories of that time when he had been about nine still fresh in his mind.
It had been a day which he would never forget, the day in which his father had taken them to a bar in New York, a city they'd visited after stowing away between a load of sheep on a boat which ferried over the pacific ocean. Arguably, it was a beautiful city, but Genma neither had taken the time to learn the language, or to allow him to learn the language, instead relying upon broken English to make sure he got what he wanted.
Outwardly, Ranma did show not much of an indication that he had been trained in the Martial Arts, although his muscles were awfully defined for a nine year old. The men who'd been at the bar where Genma had drank himself into a stupor, had looked at him with eyes that made Ranma uncomfortable, eyes that he'd rather not see again, until one of them touched his upper arm, growling something in English which Ranma didn't understand. The hand then went down to his cheek caressing it for a moment, while he pulled away, frightened by the touch, knowing that these men didn't have the best of intentions, tugging on his father's sleeve to get the man to wake up.
That was the first time he'd realized that his father was not the man he proclaimed to be, as he awoke, looked at the men and paled, while one of the men said something in English, before repeating it. Genma's reply had been enough to put Ranma in a dazed state long enough, for one of the men to stick a needle in his upper arm. "Take the boy, take the boy, but please, don't hurt me!"
As his mind grew woozy, he knew that his father had betrayed him, again. The cat fist technique had been the first time where he'd seen that his father could not really be thought of as sane, but to hear that self-preservation speak, was the final straw that broke the camel's back and Ranma's trust within his father. His eyes shut themselves, his last thought being that his arm was being pulled at. He awoke at an undisclosed location, by someone poking him with something sharp.
He opened his eyes groggily, the drug still in his system, recognizing the speaker to speak in Japanese, which was familiar. "What is your name, kid?" He sat up, the poking object being apparently something with a sharp end, like a cane, his eyes going to the man's face as he asked again for his name. "Ranma." The man grinned, shouting something at the others around, who came to stand around the cage, looking him over and eventually getting a rod themselves and prodding him a little, making him squeak in discomfort. "Know what, Ranma? We're going to make you an adult, just you wait. Your father ran away as fast as possible after we persuaded him to give you to us, so don't you worry, you're in good hands."
What that entailed, Ranma soon found out as the cage was opened and he was roughly pulled out, placed on a bench with a woman in the room, who wore heavy make-up and seemed to be one of the people who'd brought him here, speaking something in English to the man who brought him here, her blonde hair being semi-long and put into a braid, not unlike the one he himself had. Then she spoke to him in English, her voice sounding strange, but the words he didn't really understand, until she went to the door and closed it, turning the lock and then smiling at him, while she seemed to whisper words of comfort, that he didn't quite get, before her hands seemed to reach out to him.
Her first touch was gentle, as she began to go over his chest with a feather's touch, before she gently tugged off the training gi he wore as his standard outfit, exposing his somewhat muscular frame, muttering something in English again as her head came close to him and he felt her kiss him on the cheek, small little kisses being placed on his cheek, going lower, down his neck and then on his upper chest, her kisses becoming more aggressive as time went by, her hands yanking his pants down without much resistance, his body still not recovered from the drug it had had, her hand slowly touching him down where, while she murmured something, something with the word man in it, while her hand continued to do those motions that didn't make him feel good.
When she was done, he could hear a commotion outside, hear shouts, dull thuds and other sounds that weren't day to day business he supposed, as the woman seemed to be in a daze, muttering some things, while getting some of her business together, her hands slowly stroking his body, while she seemed to be less concerned about him, her hand down there where her no-go area was, according to his father... or whatever he had said, he didn't really know for sure now. The woman went to kiss his cheek again, a little trail of tears running down his cheeks, the full realization that it was finally over reaching him, as he could feel the betrayal return, his father would not come for him, nor would this woman ever stop doing these things. His vocabulary in English had picked up, as he could guess the words she used for him, as her hands seemed to know instinctively where to touch to make him feel the most uncomfortable, as did her expression speak volumes when she exclaimed some things.
The door was kicked open and Ranma looked at the person which stood in the light, it reflecting off something he held within his hands, black hair framing his head, as he stared at the woman, whose hand had reached out to touch Ranma again. A moment later and a red dot appeared on the woman's forehead, Ranma looking at it with a surprised look on his face, her face betraying mild shock at the sudden appearance, shouting something Ranma translated as ruination and fun, along with something about a boy. The reply from the newcomer was only something Ranma later realized, the words spoken by that man becoming as vividly remembered as every training he ever had done. "To you, it was just innocent fun to sate your sick desires. To me, you are worse than the scum I faced ahead, human trafficers are high on my list. I am vengeance for those you hurt, I hunt your kind ceaselessly. I am Judge, Jury and Executioner. I sentence you and those like you, to death."
The woman tried to speak, but a sound like thunder erupted from the man, blood splattering all over the wall, Ranma looking at the man, who stepped further into the room, looking at him. "Come on kid, it's time for you to get out of here." Ranma didn't understand much of it, but he followed the man nonetheless, his dark outfit blending in well with the darkness, as he got the white gi on again.
"You don't know English then, kiddo? Well then, the police will be here soon, they'll take care of you." The man turned around, leaving the children there in an office which was remarkably clean of blood, Ranma noticing that there were children around his age, or even older than him present, all looking quite haunted. "Mister, if you ever need my help, I will help. I owe you, and I always make sure to repay my debts." He tried to formulate it in English, but his native Japanese formed some words he could not remember or form with his limited comprehension of the new language. The man looked at him for some time and patted him on the head. "I'm not sure what you meant, but if you feel you owe me something, that's not necessary. I fight to protect children like you from those yakuza and all I ask is that you study well." The door was busted in at that moment and the man hurried away, the office being left alone by his presence, but Ranma had seen his eyes for a moment, their surprising tenderness being belied with the violence that the man wreaked.
As police questioned them, the children giving accounts of what had happened, Ranma was somewhat shunted aside, a woman who seemingly came from the upper parts of Japan judging by her accent taking him aside to ask him just what had been done to him. In detail, Ranma recounted his experiences with the woman, the woman showing not much emotion on her face, albeit the hint of distaste could not be hidden from him, he knew people well enough now. "Do you have any parents?"
"My father is Saotome Genma, he was in Brent's Bar somewhere around here." The woman gently patted him on the head, in much the same manner that man had done, Ranma shivering and withdrawing a little, as the memories flashed back to him, the way that the woman had touched him coming to the front again. It would be five minutes later that an officer took him away, promising him something sweet to drink. He complied nonetheless, his mind feeling sluggish and tired from all the experiences.
His father picked him up two days later, once the names had been broadcast by the police department of the children, a great deal of children simply being orphans or otherwise not cared for. When he re-united with his father, he noticed a wanted poster with the man who had rescued him on it, a mugshot of him, with a shirt with a skull underneath it, with his name and assumed identity boldly written underneath it.
He vowed that he would find that man Castle to give him his thanks, vowing to learn English well, as they traveled through the country. A year was all it took for them to traverse the expanse of America, Ranma picking up the local speech, which was American English easily, as his brain was put to full use, the language becoming his own quickly, able to hold conversations in English while his father was not paying attention. They returned to New York, for his father to book a plane back to Japan, where they would make a quick stop before going to a supposedly famous dojo which taught some idiotic style, somewhere in Okinawa. Ranma had strong suspicions that Genma just wanted to relax within Okinawa instead of train, but he was not sure. With that man, everything could be truth, or be a complete lie.
"Speak, scum." The words were growled out, as the man stood in front of the gangster, holding a military grade rifle against the gangster's ribs. The flow of words which spewed forth from the gangster's mouth was much like the diarrhea one would get from eating too much chili, or from bad food, which ended mercifully with a bang, as the bullets perforated the lungs, the bloody gurgle that came from the gangster being the only indication that he didn't agree with his judgement. "Another scum dead."
"I've been searching for you, you know." The man looked at the child in the faded white gi that stood in the opening of the alley, the man's face showing momentary surprise. "I have learnt english pretty well to give you this message again. I owe you my freedom and my life, for that, you can ask me anything and I shall do it." His honor was one of the things he held precious to him, even as he bowed. "Stand up kid, what's your name?" Ranma rose, looking the man into the eyes, the vivid blue color of them being somewhat stunning within the low lighting. "Ranma Saotome, or in my native language, Saotome Ranma, but call me Ranma. I am not quite smitten with my father's actions because he abandoned me to those people." To say that he was not quite smitten was more or less a lessening of the sentence, as he looked at the man who'd freed him, whose lips seemed to curl into a humourless smile. "Whenever I'm next in Japan, I'll visit you if I have need of a translator, is that okay? Crime is expanding like a wave from this country and perhaps, I will visit Japan to put an end to the yakuza there."
"Very well, I promise on my honor to help you in every way you need, should you visit me while I am in Japan."With that, Ranma walked away, the older man standing there for a moment before loading his rifle again, walking off into the darkness once again, the skull on the front of his outfit standing out as a stray beam of light hit it, the armor underneath it showing a little. "Kid has guts, that's for sure."
Ranma was pulled to the present again when he found himself being called, one of his classmates asking him something, pulling himself back from the memory to look at the youth. "Yeah? Sorry, I was dozing a bit." "Want to go to the arcade, see whether we can find some fine girls?" he shook his head at that, knowing that wherever he went, trouble would inevitably follow. He dismissed further conversation from his mind as he packed his bag, about to wait for the bell to ring that signalled the end of class, then go to the Tendo house to train a little bit, unless little miss martial arts decided to interrupt again. "Ranma!" He shrugged to himself more than anyone else as he looked at his fiance, the look on her face looking apprehensive. "Is everything alright with you?" He nodded out of habit, evading her eyes as he tried to think up a good escape plan. This wouldn't end well for him if she started on her usual suspicious routine.
"See if I care, you jerk." She slugged him in the gut, her brute force making him double over momentarily, his mouth expelling a sufficient amount of air to sound like he'd gotten the air blown out of his lungs. In truth, he'd tensed his stomach muscles, acting only to be hit hard by her unexpected punch. He looked at her, sighing deeply as she marched off, bag in hand, seemingly not concerned for his health anymore.
As he neared the school gate, he watched a taxi stop up ahead, the driver recognizing him somehow, the look of fear on his face clearly being an indication that they'd met before or something. It was rare to see a taxi in Nerima though, as things usually got pretty messed up around here. The door on the side opened and someone stepped out, Ranma's eyebrows shooting up as he recognized the man immediately.
"Long time no see, kid." The voice was a bit deeper than he'd remembered, somehow having more age behind it, but to all extents, the same underlying feelings of barely suppressed hate towards the Yakuza and their ilk being there. Ranma looked at the taxi driver, who seemed to be interested in what the young 'God of Nerima Martial Arts' had to say to the Gaijin, although a look from Ranma clearly told the man that he'd better make himself scarce. The taxi driver complied almost immediately, driving off with a cloud of exhaust fumes, not giving the school or the martial artist another glance. "Hello there, Castle-san. You intend to collect on the debt I owe you?"
"Yeah. You can act as a translator, while I kill the Yaks. Deal?" Here, Ranma closed his eyes for a moment, envisioning the carnage that the man would wreak. The fact that he had been rumored to attack any crimilan organization around had been a very fast-spreading one, so if this was truly the man known as the Punisher, there'd be blood and vengeance…
"Only, if I can join in too. I will not let others have the same thing done to them, as was done to me." That was the moment, in which Frank Castle and Ranma Saotome teamed up. The criminal world, would soon be knowing another Punisher, one with more brutal methods of operating.
Well, I hope you liked this. It was just to test out whether I still got it in me to write so I hope that this will be decently reviewed. Mind you, this is just a test thingy, I'm 60% certain about to write another chapter, if people respond favorably. So don't hold back and just give me a few reviews, telling me what you thought of it. Ranma and the Punisher are both unenhanced individuals within an universe that seems to be populated with all kinds of magical stuff, so I thought it to be fun to match them up, see what can be done with them. Also, I want your thoughts on Ranma's… origin, of sorts.
Cheerio!