The Tournament

Akane was tired, hungry, thirsty, and naked. After she had woken up a collar had been placed around her neck. Everything had been explained to her then.

“You are to be the first place prize for a tournament. We are now going to teach you everything you need to know in order to best please your new master. If you do anything to displease us, you will be punished. Do you understand?” the woman explained.

Akane must not have answered quickly enough, because she felt a huge shock around her neck. When she came to, she was hanging suspended from the ceiling. She had been that way ever since, the shocks were still painful, but they weren't enough to cause her to black out again.

“Slave!” a voice snapped. Akane ignored it and chose to concentrate on her breathing. She was hanging with her arms were held above her head and behind her back. There was so much pressure on her lungs that she didn't bother speaking for fear of passing out. She'd been hanging like this since she had woken up. There was no way for her to tell how time passed.

There was a shock at her neck, coming from the chocker they had placed there before she was hung up. Akane prided herself on not making a sound, even though she had never felt pain like it before. “You will answer me slave,” the voice menaced. Akane swallowed with difficulty and raised her head to meet the gaze of her tormentor.

Before her stood a woman with long blond hair, bangs cropped just above her eyes. She wore oval wire rimmed glasses over her deep blue eyes and a smirk on her lips. Decked out in a black suit, matching mini skit, and stilettos, she looked more like a naughty secretary then a slave trainer.

“What?” croaked Akane. She wanted to spit the words out, but she was too tired and her throat was too dry.

Another shock was Akane's reward. “You do not address your betters in such a tone.” Akane remained silent, saving her strength for later. The woman suddenly laughed, “You still think you can escape, don't you?” she lightly tapped Akane's cheek. “It's so cute that you still think that there's hope. I told you before, escape is impossible.”

Part of Akane's spirit froze at the words, the way it had every time she heard them. She knew she wasn't the strongest, but she should be able to escape. It was her duty as heir to the Tendo school of Indiscriminate Grappling. 'If it's the last thing I do, I will get out of here.'

“You have too much spirit to be a proper slave,” the woman explained. “We will have to break it if you are to make your new master happy.” The woman grinned at Akane before she pressed the button to activate Akane's collar.

“Once you accept your new position, this will stop. You can eat, you can sleep, you can go to the bathroom in a toilet,” at these words, Akane could feel a small trickle of urine slide down her legs. She'd been holding it in as best she could, but 30 hours is a long time to hold that kind of thing in.

The woman followed the trickle with her gaze, then reached out and wiped it up with her finger before it reached Akane's knee. She held her finger up to Akane's face and rubbed gently against Akane's lips, “All you have to do, is accept.”

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Ranma hopped from building to building taking his morning jog. It was a habit he had started when he began living with the Tendos, mostly because he wanted to get as much stability in his schedule as possible, but also because it was something he could do with Akane without getting married. Of course Akane didn't know they jogged together every morning. She rarely looked up while maneuvered through the streets of Nerima.

For most of his life, Ranma and his father were the only people he had ever met who used rooftops to get around. When he moved to Nerima he met a few people who could do it as well, but not many people every got that good at martial arts to do it consistently.

Which is why Ranma was really surprised to see three people come out of a hotel room, exchange some harsh looking words, and spring apart in three separate directions over the roofs of the city. One of them was coming directly towards him.

As the person came closer, Ranma noticed that it was a guy, wearing a black turtle neck and bulky vest with lots of pockets. His hair was pulled back into a spiky ponytail, and he was sporting the beginning of a black eye. Ranma stood on the roof, watching the guy approach him. He was prepared for a fight, but he really didn't want to get into one.

“Good morning,” Ranma greeted the boy, who looked to be about his age once he got closer.

The guy stopped on the roof, “Morning.”

“Where are you off to so early?” Ranma asked, not even bothering to be polite, he was really curious about this guy. 'He must be a pretty good at martial arts,' Ranma thought to himself, 'I'm better though.'

The guy blinked, then shrugged, “Breakfast.”

“Mind if I join you?” Ranma asked, trying to conceal his annoyance at the coolness of the one word answers he was receiving. The guy shrugged, and leaped to the next building, Ranma followed in silence.

“Ranma Saotome! Prepare to die!” a familiar voice shouted from slightly above. Ranma lightly touched down on a roof, then nimbly dodged to the left. There was a heavy impact on the roof that left a dent. In the middle of the dent knelt Ryouga Hibiki, leaning heavily against his umbrella.

“Hey Ryouga,” Ranma greeted casually, like it happened every day, which it did.

“Saotome, because of you I've seen hell,” Ryouga growled as he lunged for Ranma again. Ranma dodged this attack and all the once that followed. While he did this he followed the guy in the ponytail to their breakfast. Once he stopped, Ranma tried to get Ryouga's attention.

“Hey, Bacon Breath,” Ranma teased, “How about we take a break for some food?” Ryouga stopped his attacks and put his umbrella away. While he entered the restaurant he bumped his shoulder hard against Ranma's.

Ranma saw the boy he followed to the restaurant sit in a booth by the window facing the door. Ranma joined him, leaving enough room for Ryouga to join or not.

“So, by the way, I'm Ranma Saotome,” he greeted, waving slightly, “and this is Ryouga Hibiki.”

“I'm Shikamaru Nara,” Shikamaru nodded, then turned his attention to the menu. Ranma followed his example.

“So you must be really good at martial arts,” Ranma stated subtly.

“I guess,” Shikamaru shrugged.

“What do you mean guess? Do you know how many people I know who can building hop?” Ranma scoffed. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at this.

“It's pretty common where I come from.” A waitress appeared and took their orders for breakfast.

“No way!” Ranma nearly shouted in excitement. “Does that mean everyone does martial arts?”

“Nope,” Shikamaru shrugged, “but the basics of chackra control is taught at the academy, so most people know how to get around like that.”

“Chackra?” Ryouga finally spoke up.

“You know, the spiritual energy that flows through your body,” Shikamaru explained slowly.

“Oh, you mean chi,” Ranma said nodding knowledgeably.

“Same thing, different word,” Shikamaru agreed.

“So your school teaches martial arts?” Ranma asked intrigued. His memories of school were fuzzy, mostly because he caught up on sleep during class, but he would have remembered if there were any cool classes like that available.

“You could say that.”

“So, you wanna spar some time?” Ranma asked enthusiastically. He really liked making new friends, and anyone who practiced roof hopping was a friend of his. Or an enemy, but they were just as good as friends sometimes.

“Taijutsu is not really my strong point.”

“Then what is?” Ranma asked confused.

“Strategy,” smirked Shikamaru.

“Strategy? Like thinking about fights?” Ranma asked disappointed.

“Usually during a fight,” Shikamaru answered, sounding a little defensive. “Mostly I play shougi when I'm not practicing. In fact, I've been chosen to represent my village in the tournament.”

Ranma latched on to this information eagerly. 'So this is my competition,' he thought. “I play shougi a little,” he said cautiously. 'Don't want him knowing that he's going to train his competition.' “How about after breakfast we play a few rounds so you can practice?”

“What the hell are you talking about Ranma?” Ryouga demanded. “You couldn't sit still if your life depended on it, and you hate shougi. You should really let me take your place in the tournament, I'll be sure to win Akane back.”

“Ryouga,” Ranma taunted, “You couldn't win a game of shougi if your life depended on it. All your pieces would get lost.”

“Take that back!” Ryouga shouted.

“Make me Pork-Butt,” Ranma laughed.

Before the taunting would lead to a fight, the waitress brought there food. Instinct took over for Ranma. After saying a quick blessing, he concentrated fully on the food, ready to defend it if necessary. Once he finished most of it he slowed down, savoring the last of the rice and tea as best he could.

Ranma looked up to see Shikamaru staring at him in mild amusement. When he noticed Ranma looking at him, he chuckled and explained, “That's the way Chouji eats sometimes.”

“Who's Chouji?” Ranma asked. As far as he knew the only people who could eat faster then where that French family with the weird mouths. “He can't fit a whole watermelon in his mouth can he?”

“Not without using his family's jutsu,” Shikamaru answered, “And even then what's the point? He would probably say that eating like that disrespects the food.”

Ryouga snickered, “Only fatties talk like that.”

“If I were you I would never let Chouji hear that word come out of your mouth,” Shikamaru said, glaring at Ryouga. Ranma shivered from the cold of the look, even though he wasn't the one receiving it.

“So, Shikamaru, did you think about my offer?” Ranma asked hurridly, wanting to keep Ryouga from doing something stupid.

Shikamaru's gaze turned to Ranma, but somehow Ranma got the feeling that he was still glaring at Ryouga for insulting his friend. “Yeah, sure, it could be fun.”

“Great!” Ranma cheered, mostly for his cleverness. 'I'm going to be trained in shougi by someone who actually knows what they're talking about.'

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Hinata made her quickly to the tallest building in town. From there she could do an initial scan of the town. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shikamaru meet up with the target Ranma Saotome. 'It was quite convenient of him be right outside the room when we left,' she mused idly.

No one looked up as the kunoichi silently made her way over the rooftops of the city. Hinata knew this to be true, even though she never looked down to confirm it. She had always had the ability to not be noticed when she didn't want to be noticed. She had gotten top marks for stealth in the academy, which caused Sakura to almost have a stroke due to the shock of being beaten.

When Hinata reached her destination, she activated her byakugan. Everything went black and white with swirls of blue. She knew that she wouldn't be able to actually see Akane from where she was, but at least from here she would have a direction to work in.

Kiba was going to be doing the same thing with Akamaru. They probably wouldn't be able to get her scent in such a bustling city, but they would be able to smell anything suspicious. There targets for today were buildings that were sealed or places that smelled of slavery.

A quick scan of the town reveal four buildings that were sealed. No matter how much chackra Hinata pumped into her eyes she couldn't break the seal. With practice Hinata reached into her pouch, pulled out a map of the city that she had purchased before dinner last night, and marked on the map the whereabouts of the buildings that she saw. With that small chore down, she deactivated her byakugan and made her way to the farthest building from where she was.

'So far so good,' she hummed to herself, practically skipping to her first destination.

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Akamaru could tell that Kiba was not in a happy mood. Akamaru figured that Kiba's fist must hurt due to the beating he gave Shikamaru, his head must hurt because of the chackra blockage Hinata provided, and he might not be appreciateing the lecture Akamaru was giving him.

“I'm telling you that he deserved it,” Kiba growled at the giant nin-dog. “He was standin' over Hinata with barely any clothes on!” Akamaru huffed in response. “Come on! She was passed out and Shikamaru was the cause. He probably tried to grope her or something,” Kiba muttered darkly.

Akamaru shook his head slowly. “No way would Hinata faint just because,” Kiba argued. “She only faints when someone does something. Like when Naruto gets too close.” Akamaru barked quietly. “What do you mean Shikamaru didn't do anything? You didn't see what I saw!” Akamaru's bark was a little louder, “You did not just tell me that I was wrong. I know what I saw.”

The argument was getting the two nowhere. Kiba was determined that Shikamaru was in the wrong, while Akamaru was convinced that Kiba had gone crazy. Akamaru knew that Kiba was protective of Hinata, everyone on the team was protective of her, but he felt that Kiba too possessive of her. Akamaru voiced his opinion to Kiba one last time.

“I'm not possessive,” scoffed Kiba, “Hinata's like a sister to me. I just want to protect her from the perverts of the world.”

Before Akamaru could point out that until this mission Kiba had never considered Shikamaru a pervert, he vaguely smelled cat plummeting towards him at a high rate of speed. Only years of training saved the dog from being squished by a delivery bike. As the bike hit the ground, too late to warn anyone below, a bell sounded off. Akamaru couldn't get a good look at the rider, he just noticed that the rider was female with long purple hair.

“Are you blind?” Kiba shouted after the bike, whose rider was pedaling quickly away from them. When the bicyclist was out of sight Kiba turned to Akamaru and muttered, “Crazy bitch. Couldn't drive if her life depended on it.” Akamaru knew that Kiba only said that because the rider was out of ear shot. Due to matriarchal nature of the Inuzuka clan, Kiba had a healthy respect for women that bordered on terror.

Akamaru continued smelling around shortly after the incident. He was hoping to find any suspicious smells. Kiba had told him to sniff out the smells of slavery, which included, but were not limited to, sex, blood, urine, feces, metal, leather, dominance, and submission. For every place he smelled three or more of these scents, he was to mark the building so Kiba could compare them to the buildings Hinata found. So far he hadn't smelled more then one or two scents at a time.

Akamaru thought longingly of the lunch break he was going to get at the stall that Mousse is working at. Hopefully by then he'll have some information to share, and get some yummy food from the soft hearted Hinata.

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Ms. Friday was annoyed. In all her years as a trainer she had never run across someone as obstinate and stubborn as this girl was. If she had had more time she would have relished the challenge, but as it was she only had five days.

‘Five days to train this… this…girl,” she mentally spat, while her face remained composed. The first rule of being a trainer was to maintain control at all times. She was always cool and calm, never did she loose her composure.

They had finally let the girl down from where she hung. Any longer and she would have died. Any longer and Ms. Friday would have lost her commission. Very few lasted this long in the initial lessons. They normally broke long before the shock collar was ever used.

Although she loathed the concept, she was sure that she would have to use a jutsu. Through out her whole career, Ms. Friday had only had to use the jutsu two times. The first time had been an amazon warrior, who would have bitten her own tongue off before submitting. Ms. Friday had still been young and impatient. After the first suicide attempt she used the jutsu. Now she felt that she had been too hasty. The second had been a ninja from the village of sand. Ms. Friday always smiled when she remembered that boy. He had been so full of futile rage that she had laughed. Too bad he saw her loose her composure, he would have been a fun little project.

“Slave,” she sang out as she stood. The girl didn’t even look up at her or acknowledge her. Ms. Friday smiled to herself as pressed the button to activate the collar. The girl tensed up, but no sound came out. ‘Such control,’ Ms. Friday thought to herself. “You will look at me when I speak to you.”

The girl brought her head up and glared feebly at her. “What?” she whispered harshly. Long before she had been let down the girl had lost her voice.

Another shock was in order. “Know your place.” The girl didn’t say anything, just kept looking at Ms. Friday. “Sit,” she ordered simply, knowing that she would be obeyed one way or the other. When the girl didn’t move at first, Ms. Friday was tempted to use the collar, but she knew that too much collar and the girl would stop responding. Instead she nodded at her assistant, who lifted the girl and positioned her. The girl’s struggles were as weak as a new born kitten.

“Why do you fight?” she asked looking at the girl kindly. “Why do you fight your fate? You know there is no escape. No hope of rescue, yet you still fight. Wouldn’t you like to rest? Let all your troubles go?” If this didn't break her, then nothing in the next couple of days would. Ms. Friday would need that precious time to train the girl in the art of pleasing a master.

The girl didn’t respond. She looked strait ahead, almost through Ms. Friday. Finally the girl met her gaze. Instead of despair and the hope that Ms. Friday could make it all better, there was defiance. A fire burned behind the girl’s eyes that had yet to be quenched. Given enough time it could be, but they didn’t have that luxury.

“If you’re going to be that way,” Ms. Friday stated calmly, taking the girls chin and jerking it upward, “Then we’ll just have to change your mind. There’s too much to teach you before the tournament. I don’t have time for your little games. Hold her,” she ordered her assistant.

The assistant complied, keeping a firm hold on the girls head so she couldn’t turn away. Ms. Friday nodded, then started doing the appropriate hand gestures. It was for the first half of a seal. All slaves received the second half, only a few ever needed to first half. This half of the seal would forcefully make the person compliant and just a little eager. Any order given in this state would be followed, unless it was to harm one’s self or another. It was quite the useful seal, but the less a trainer used it, the greater their reputation. So far, Ms. Friday had the best reputation in Honey Country. She intended to keep in that way.

Once the hand gestures were finished, Ms. Friday whispered the word that would activate the jutsu. “Compliance,” she ordered. When the jutsu hit the girl, she slumped forward, a small blue triangle with three diagonal lines on the left side appeared on her forehead. When the second jutsu was placed on the girl the triangle would turn into a diamond and three diagonal lines would be placed on the right side of it before it faded away.

“Slave,” called to the girl, knowing that the jutsu had already taken affect. She nodded for her assistant to release the slave.

“Yes mistress?” the girl asked, her voice sounding just the same as it had when the girl fought, just lacking that bit of fire it had before. The girl was looking in her direction, but there was no direct eye contact. 'Good, she's showing a marked improvement,' Ms. Friday thought as she surveyed the girl.

“You shall address me as sensei,” 'Can't have her getting in the habit of calling everyone master.' “Do you understand?”

“Yes sensei.”

“You shall address all others as ‘sir’ or ‘madam’ unless otherwise directed by me or your master,” Ms. Friday explained. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sensei.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Who is my master, sensei?” the girl asked, sounding a little distressed.

“You shall find out when the time is right. Until then you will do as I or my assistant says. Now attend, I have much to teach you.”