Part Four

Charlotte wasn’t waking up anymore.

With a soft smile, Azusa leaned down and kissed his cheek, which was still moist from previously shed tears. Though he hadn’t stirred in a long time, when she bent close she could sense his labored breathing and knew that he was still . . . well, he hadn’t gone to sleep completely for good yet. But he was almost there, and soon it would be time for him to join all of her other cute things. She ruffled her hand through his thick hair, absently teasing the unruly strands back into place. He looked perfect, a sleeping angel.

Azusa didn’t care to notice the pallor to Charlotte’s skin, or the heavy black circles beneath his eyes. She didn’t want to see that the sticky tape was tearing into the skin on his face, or that his body temperature was soaring wildly in a fearsome fever. She ignored the nasty open wound around his neck that the iron collar had gouged into his flesh as he attempted to strangle himself. As far as she was concerned, he was still the same lovely young man she had met on the ice many months ago. Her dear little Charlotte. She traced her finger along the line of his tight pink collar, which was quickly making the neck wound even worse. He was hers forever.

The petite girl rose and danced lightly into the next room, smiling with happiness. Gleefully, she explained to all of the other items in her collection that it was almost time for Charlotte to join them, and that she had to make room for him. Humming the theme to one of the cartoons she loved to watch, Azusa carefully rearranged her collection, taking great care with each treasure as she moved it, clearing space on a low ornate laquer table. Each item received special attention as it was moved, everything from stuffed animals to road signs were subjected to tight hugs and gushing love from the demonstrative young woman. Upon the table, Azusa carefully laid a small pillow of soft satin pink, fussing over its exact placement and smoothing out the shimmering surface so that there were no wrinkles. She sat back and smiled at her work, and knew that Charlotte would be pleased with her final resting place.

"Its just beautiful, isn’t it Mirabella?" Azusa asked, picking up a nearby stuffed cat and holding it close to her chest. "Charlotte will be so happy," she tittered and held the cat up to eye-level. "You’ll make him feel at home, won’t you Mirabella?"

The cat’s dusty synthetic fur gleamed dully under the bright lights of the room. Azusa carefully placed Mirabella beside the satin cushion reserved for Charlotte, and skipped back out into her bedroom.

It had taken her a great deal of time and spying to discover the secret of how he changed into a such a cute black piglet, but it had been worth it. Now, Azusa carefully unlocked the chains still binding Charlotte to the bed, ignoring how his arms fell limp once they were released, not seeing the raw bleeding cuts around his wrists. Retrieving a pretty pink watering can that she had filled with ice water earlier, Azusa giggled as she tipped the spout over the young man lying on her bed.

The change was fascinating to watch, and her soft blue-grey eyes shimmered with delight as Charlotte’s form shrank and twisted. When the transformation was complete, Azusa squealed and clapped her hands. Charlotte still wore the sweet little pink collar, and the strip of tape remained wrapped around his muzzle. Cooing lovingly, Azusa picked up the limp body, cradling it in her arms.

She made her way into the next room, talking sweetly as she went. "Azusa’s dearest, sweetest Charlotte. Azusa loves you so much, yes she does. She adored being in your strong wonderful arms and feeling you within her. It was like heaven for Azusa, and now she wants to give you heaven in return." The small girl looked up as she stepped slowly through her lovely room, filled with all of its cute treasures. "Hello everyone!" she purred. "Azusa has finally brought Charlotte to stay with us forever and ever. Say hello, make Charlotte feel welcome."

The piles of miscellany sparkled beneath the hot lights of the room.

Azusa knelt before the little space she had cleared. Gently, she placed her beloved pig on the pillow and sat back on her heels to admire how fine his small black body looked against the lighter color of the satin. Smiling, she reached out and lovingly stroked his head, running her fingers around his ears and down the line of his neck. She adjusted the collar so that she could see the engraved name, a soft caring light in her large eyes. She took no notice of the drops of blood which fell upon the pink satin, spreading quickly through the fabric into watery-looking dark stains.

"Sleep well, dearest Charlotte," she whispered reverently, her fingers dancing lightly over his form, the tips of each picking up rusty spots of blood. "Sleep well. Azusa loves you. Azusa loves her . . . her Ryoga . . . "

*********************************

Azusa returned to her bedroom, smiling dreamily with two sparkling tears in her eyes. The bed was a rumpled bloody mess, but she would take care of that later. Humming once again, she picked up the watering can and, intending to return it to the conservatory garden, opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway.

She nearly ran into Mikado, who was reaching for the door on the other side, obviously intending to come in. Azusa yelped in alarm, dropping the watering can and putting her hands to her mouth.

"Azusa . . . " he began, his brilliant blue eyes shining sadly.

"Miki! Azusa thought you went home! Why are you here and trying to come into Azusa’s bedroom?" she demanded, then noticed another young man standing slightly behind her skating partner. She frowned heavily.

Azusa recognized him, of course. He was one of Charlotte’s friends, the young martial artist who had skated with Akane Tendo. She wondered briefly what he would be doing here in her home, then noticed the angry look in his eyes. He was mad, and his fury was directed towards her! All at once, Azusa realized why he had come.

"No!" she shrieked, her sudden emotional explosion catching both of the young men off guard. "You’re not taking Azusa’s Charlotte away this time!!"

Ranma didn’t waste any time. He jumped forward, grabbing the girl by the arms and shaking her a bit. "He’s not yours! Now, where is he?"

She pursed her lips in a determined and fierce pout, an instant before bringing her leg up to deliver a devastating and unexpected kick to his mid-section. Ranma went down to his knees, all of the air knocked clean out of him.

"You can’t have him! He belongs to Azusa!" she hissed, looking for all the world like a vicious cat ready to claw. She stood protectively in front of her bedroom door, glaring at them both, obviously upset and hurt by this intrusion into her home and private fantasy. "Miki, how could you do this? He wants to take Charlotte away! How could you bring him here to Azusa’s house?!"

Mikado winced at the light of betrayal in her huge eyes. He hadn’t realized until that moment how difficult this would be to stomach. Azusa was his friend, his partner. He wanted to give her anything she desired, to keep her happy and skating. For so many years, he had overlooked her kleptomania, for the sake of their art, turning a blind eye to her little obsessions. It took every but of his will-power not to give in to her now.

But he knew, deep down, she needed help. "Azu-chan," he said carefully, taking a step forward. "This is wrong. Your obsession with that pig has caused you to hurt someone, someone who has no part in this."

"Shows what you know," she pouted at him. "He is Azusa’s Charlotte."

"That’s impossible, Azusa."

Ranma got to his feet, holding his stomach. For such a small thing, Azusa packed quite a kick. He growled lowly, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Look, Azusa. I don’t know how you found out about Ryoga, but I want him back, right now. I’m not interested in fighting a girl, but I will go through you to get him if I have to."

"No!" Charlotte is Azusa’s!" she spit at him. "You can’t have him!" With those words, she turned and fled into her bedroom.

Ranma pursued, chasing her through the main part of the suites, intending to run her down if he had to. But suddenly, he caught sight of something that made his entire body go cold. Ranma came to a dead stop beside Azusa’s large four poster bed.

The shackles attached to each post and the blood stains on the top comforter told a story that Ranma wasn’t prepared to hear. He felt his stomach lurch wildly. Kami-sama, just what had happened here?! This was obviously far more than just a simple kidnaping, as Mikado had led him to believe. Though he hadn’t known exactly what to expect, something this horrific had been the furthest thing from his mind. He had always regarded Azusa as creepy, but essentially harmless.

Mikado came in behind him and turned pale at the sight of the bed. "Oh Azusa . . . " he whispered, fighting down his revulsion.

"He’d better not be dead, Mikado!" Ranma regained his head, snarling, as this time his battle aura sprung into existence full blown. He tore through the bedroom, heading straight into the room Azusa had disappeared into, leaving fury in his wake.

He found himself in a maze of old junk, dolls, stuffed animals and rotting bits of food under glass. Pausing for a moment to get his bearings and look around, Ranma spotted Azusa crouched near the back of the room, peeking at him over the piles of clutter. Grinding his teeth together, flexing his hands repeatedly into fists, Ranma approached her, carefully stepping around the larger items which littered the floor. Traffic lights, barber poles, bicycles . . . Ranma shook his head. She was crazy. There was simply no other explaination.

"Where is he, you little wench? Where’s Ryoga?!" Ranma crouched into a more defensive position, edging around an old roll-top desk that was covered with glass-blown figurines.

Azusa has him," she replied calmly. She was sitting on a table, and in her lap rested a little stained pink pillow. On that pillow, P-Chan lay on his side, still as death, with taped wrapped so tightly around his muzzle that blood was seeping out along the edges. Smiling vacantly, Azusa held a deadly little ornate knife directly over the pig’s neck, its needle sharp tip pressed hard into black flesh.

Ranma came to a skidding halt, eyes widening. "Azusa . . . "

"Charlotte belongs to Azusa," she insisted again. "She won’t let you take him!"

"No, please don’t," Ranma pleaded, swallowing hard, trying to fight down his anger and keep control. If he attacked her, she’d kill P-Chan, and he didn’t doubt for one second that she wasn’t entirely capable of it. His heart freezing in his chest, Ranma lowered his fists and crouched low before her.

"Please . . . " he whispered.

************************************

I come in behind Saotome and see what’s happening. Somehow, Azusa has gotten a hold of that stupid pig and is now holding a knife on it, like she’s about to sacrifice it, or something. I really don’t understand, especially when I hear Ranma beg her not to kill the thing. I thought he was here to save Ryoga, not that dumb beast. But, I don’t see Hibiki anywhere.

Obviously I’m missing something, and I don’t like that. I glance at Ranma, see the desperate light in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to lose something that means the world to him, that if Azusa were to use that knife, an important part of Ranma would die along with that infernal pig. But . . . how can that be . . . ? Its just a stupid pig, certainly not worth this kind of fuss, let alone the hassle of that entire inane Charlotte Cup nonsense a few months back. What on earth is Ranma doing? We should be trying to find Ryoga! If he’s not already dead, then he undoubtedly needs immediate medical help . . .

Then I remember Azusa’s insistence that Hibiki is her Charlotte, and Ranma’s words in the hallway come racing back to me as well.

"I don’t know how you found out about Ryoga . . . "