Here is the fic, a little dark, a little light, and as always found
underneath any pandora's box, a bit of hope ^_- Please read, C&C, MST,
FFIRC... whatever you want <at least give the first a try. Flames will
be looked on as notes of love, and are too personal to be sent to the
FFML

OtakuNXS presents...

Ukyo, Akane, and any other referece to Ranma 1/2 are owned first and
foremost by Rumiko Takahashi, secondly by Shogakunkan, with Viz
communications bringing up the rear. Please worship them at the temple
of your choice.


			"The Uses of a Knife!"

o-(----

	Ukyo woke up to dull pain. She had fallen asleep in the back room, a
small pile of shrimp and vegetables in front of her and apparently with
something sticking into her ribs. She pulled the thin, cylindrical
object out of her sash and yawned sleepily. Blinking rapidly, she tried
to get some strength back into her eyes. Had she fallen asleep crying?
It must have been the onions.

 	Ukyo wiped the weariness from her eyes and studied the light from her
window. It was morning... again. Letting practiced reflexes take over,
she began slicing up some shrimp with the nearest thing handy, her
stomach in desperate need of food. The steady rhythm slowly drummed life
back into her. Her thoughts began to turn to the previous night.

o-(----

	"Ukyo?" Akane had stuck her head into Ucchan's around seven that night.
The place had been bustling for the past few hours. Her main competition
had lost one of its major selling points and Ukyo was doing a brisk
business. Of course, Shampoo's disappearance had also worried her a
little. What could that purple-hared hussy be doing?

	With a smile she nodded to an empty chair in front of the grill. If
Akane was here, Ran-chan was almost sure to follow and that meant more
opportunities to stuff his face with real food. Cooked straight from the
heart for the man she loved. How could he not notice? 

	Even if he didn't show up, Akane was nice company. Most of her current
customers were male refugees from the Neko-Hanten and they weren't in a
talkative mood. They had spent the evening mourning their loss, not to
mention trying to conjure up mental images of Ukyo in seductive attire.
It wasn't working out well. Ukyo was very cute but she just didn't
bounce the way the Amazon did. Still, their abortive leers were nothing
compared to the dark mood of the remaining patrons. While the young men
had lost a Goddess, their girlfriends had found a God.

	Mousse had always been attractive, but lately he seemed to have a whole
new confident way about him. His eyes seemed to smolder behind his thick
glasses and when he smiled, he smiled without any trace of the old
malice. Just quiet, contented smile that made your heart melt. Ukyo
wasn't quite sure what was going on, but if Shampoo didn't forget about
Ranma and stake her claim on him soon, he was as good as gone.

 	She looked over at Akane who seemed to be fidgeting over something.
What was with that weird look in her eyes? Was she sick? Not sure what
to say, but glad to have someone to talk to she began innocently. "So,
how's Ran-chan? I haven't seen him around much lately." She smiled as
she prepared an okonomiyaki for a female patron. Ukyo concentrated on
watching Akane's face, her reflexes concentrated on the task at hand.

	It was always fun to start Akane off on one of her little "Ranma no
baka!" tirades. With a little more prodding she might even be able to
set her up with some other guy. This would leave Ran-chan for herself
and of course would probably be the best for all concerned. Even more
fun, if she could subtly remind her of the momentous difference in their
cooking skills, the enraged girl might even try and force-feed him. She
could just see his hungry expression as he begged Ukyo to hide him from
danger, not to mention giving him some real food.

 	The fantasy came to a premature death as she saw Akane's face
transform. Her hardened features melted and, was that a... blush? She
was smiling, and all from one name, Ran-chan. Ukyo barely noticed as her
spatulas tore through the Japanese delicacy.

	"Oh Ukyo, h- he proposed to me!" Akane had reached over the counter and
was fiercely hugging the okonomiyaki chef, crying and laughing at the
same time.

	Ukyo just stood there, her hands not moving and her face etched in
stone. He had proposed. The young men who had been trying to conjure up
ecchi images of her took one look in her eyes and saw the pits of hell.
Those men who had come in, betrayed by their loves began to fidget under
her burning glare and began remembering their own infidelities. Ukyo's
restaurant emptied in record time. No one even thought of skipping out
on their tab. Piles of money with healthy tips adorned every table.

	"I-I'm very happy for you." was all she could stutter out. He had
proposed.

	"Thank you <sniff> you'll come won't you? Ranma and I just couldn't
have the wedding without you." Akane smiled, her eyes still moist with
tears.

	"Wouldn't miss it." Ukyo choked out. He had proposed. "I-I got some
things to do Akane, could you come back later?"

	"Oh, sure thing. We'll be sending out invitations in a few days, let me
know if you don't get one." Akane squeezed her friend's hand one last
time and walked out the door. She seemed to be floating about an inch
off the ground. He had proposed, finally, he had proposed, how long had
she been waiting for that? But why had he proposed to the wrong girl?

	Ukyo didn't how she had ended upstairs but there she was, kneeling in
front of her family shrine. She lit a candle and just stared at the
pictures of her ancestors, her grandmother, her mother, a great aunt,
all strong, powerful women with calm, compassionate eyes and hearts that
burned with fire. Only one woman didn't seem to fit, she was more then
beautiful, almost unworldly, but it was a fragile sort of beauty, like a
china doll. Something that had to be held gently and never meant to
withstand all that the world had in store. 

	Katsumi-sama, Ukyo's great aunt, welcomed her with quiet willowy eyes.
Practiced hands slowly lit the incense and tapped the small metal bowl,
commencing a prayer. All she wanted was an answer, not some miracle that
would make everything all right, she was done with waiting for miracles,
now she just needed answers. Why had she wasted her life on a dream? 

	Silence fell over her, a warm blanket offered to someone dying of heat
stroke. Her eyes opened and fell back down to Katsumi-sama. She looked
so feminine, so unreal, there was no hardness to be found, nothing but
grace and tears, a weeping willow in a family of oaks. Men would have
died for that smile, torn out there own hearts just for a glimpse of
hers. She was every bit the princess, what  happy storytale ending had
destiny written for her? It was never to be known. Her family was a bit
reluctant to talk about it, the whole affair had nearly torn them to
pieces. Still, with persistence, Ukyo had been able to get the whole
story.

	She had fallen in love with a married man. He had promised to leave his
wife if only she would consent to be his lover. Had her heart been
stronger, she might have said no. It had taken years for Katsumi-sama to
come to grips with the truth. Why should he give up the woman he loved
for the woman he slept with? However, she had no place left to go. She
had disobeyed her family to live within reach of the man and could not
return.

	A year later, a family heirloom turned up missing. It had been a gift
from an ancient household that had fallen on bad times. Ukyo's family
had fed and nurtured the old clan back to health. The gift had been a
beautiful ceremonial tanto, and it had become a symbol of pride for her
family. Its disappearance was looked on as a bad omen, its reappearance
was confirmation. When it was finally rediscovered, it was alongside a
forever silent Katsumi-sama. 

	The young woman had used the blade to end her life and had laid herself
to rest in her lover's bed. The man was disgraced before his wife and
his family. His uncle had taken possession of the man's belongings and
had made sure the story, as well as the dagger, was returned to Ukyo's
family. The family received the tanto and kept it to remind them of
their failure. Blood had washed away the blade's original meaning. Now,
after so many years, no one in the family would speak openly of it, nor
would any dare remove it from its sheath.  

 	Four years ago, the dagger had gone missing again. Another girl, swept
up in the path of honor and half understood stories, had taken it. Ukyo
had taken it. Her mind had been a flood of romantic ideals and samurai
tradition. She had thought she would seal her fate after confronting the
family who had wronged her. She chuckled softly to herself. It had all
seemed so perfect when she was a child. She, a woman forced to be a man
by a would be lover, would go the same as a woman forced to be a lover
by a would be man.

	With a quivering hand, she removed the intricately carved, red and gold
blade from its secret place in the shrine. Her oath had been so serious
at the time, filled with the strength of belief only a child could
muster.  She looked at the ornate dagger. Its gold tassel and Phoenix
relief's shining just a bit in the light of the reflected candles.
Nervously, she resisted the urge to look at the naked blade. Even now,
the weapon retained its stigma. To open it was to make a covenant with
death.

	Suddenly, a nervous pit seemed to open in her stomach. Could she really
do this? The silent question played itself in her mind, over and over.
Yes, she thought, forcing calmness over her whole body, she could. Ukyo
blinked in surprise, was that the answer she seeked? She was amazed at
how good she felt. Well, not exactly good, but at peace. She was, after
all, a woman of honor. By making one final decision, she could leave the
world as one. 

	But was a man's heart worth her own?

	Before she could finish her thoughts, Ukyo's stomach growled. Humph, no
point in that, she would have no need  for food on this particular
journey. Her stomach made a counter argument. Look, she thought, if I'm
going to spill my guts, they are damn well going to be empty! Giving her
point due consideration, her stomach rethought its strategy and decided
to hell with it. It continued using the persuasion techniques it knew
best.

 	Fine, thought Ukyo, I'm an honorable Japanese woman with the munchies.
Besides, she had all the time in the world to make her decision after
all. She would have all of eternity once it had been made. With as much
dignity as she could summon, she stuck the closed blade in her sash and
walked downstairs. 

	The young woman took a sturdy kitchen knife from the chopping board,
and attacked the various ingredients with hungry ferocity. She hummed a
little tune to herself, perfectly in beat with the rhythm her cooking
utensil set. All of her answers were right there in her sash. Besides,
she was always a little bit more at peace when cooking for a purpose and
her purpose tonight was clear. An okonomiyaki made just for her, not for
any customer, not for fickle fiancé, but for Ukyo Kounji, honorable
samurai and one hell of a cook.

	Her mistake came with the onions. An experienced chef knows how to cut
them just right so that juices secretions were kept to a minimum and
therefore, so were tears. Ukyo had always ignored this little trick. If
you were silly enough to cry over the massacre of a vegetable, you
really had no business in the kitchen. Besides, at the speed and skill
she wielded her tool, rarely did she feel so much as a sting.

	The small drop of onion mist landed on her face, like a newborn,
unknowing of just why it was there, just sure that it was going to be
paid attention too. She felt the slight itching sensation, but was too
smart to just rub it right in with her hands. She would grab a towel in
just a moment, after she was done chopping. Trickling down the curve of
her lower lid, the invading liquid seemed balanced on her eyelashes.
Don't blink, she thought, whatever you do, don't blink. Her eyes began
to dry from the strain. She could almost feel her iris getting dryer and
dryer and... aw the hell with it. She blinked.

	Rubbing her dampened eyes she thought, well, that wasn't so bad was it?
Her continued chopping slowed as her tight smile began to falter, her
eyes slowly beginning to moisten. Rubbing again fiercely, she looked
accusingly at the offending vegetable. What had been simply moisture
became a single tear. Just one trickle that made a long languorous trip
down her check. She felt it hanging on her bottom lip, which started to
quiver.

o-(----

	She didn't remember much after that. She had fallen asleep with tears
in her eyes, and with a dagger poking her in the ribcage. Wait a
second... she looked down as her hands skillfully sliced a shrimp in
half. Skillfully and with a cursed ceremonial tanto!

	Her face paled and her bottom lip began to quiver uncontrollably again.
There was only one thing to do, and she needed no ancestors to tell her
what. She laughed. She laughed at onions, she laughed at daggers, and
she laughed at martial artists who turned into women or animals when
splashed with cold water. Most of all she laughed because she was still
alive. The knife had kept her company through one of the hardest nights
of her life, but now it was just another tool for making the best
tasting okonomiyaki in the world. The blood that had washed away the
blade's original meaning, had been washed away itself... by shrimp
juices.

o-(----

	Still giggling, Ukyo locked the door of her restaurant, her plans no
more refined then that she would have a nice time and maybe get a new
dress. She decided to pick up something nice for the upcoming wedding.
Inside her shirt, a finely crafted tanto, useful for committing seppuku
or slicing shrimp, rested against her skin. 

	She still had some dark days ahead of her, and she still had no focus
or a clear path to travel. But she was alive! Maybe the darkness would
try to drown her again. Maybe she would really succumb to its promises
of eternal peace. She just wasn't sure. 

	Today, however, was not the time to worry about such matters, the whole
day spread out before her and there were still so many other
possibilities! Sighing a bit to herself, she wondered if Katsumi-sama
would ever have found that happy ending if she had discovered the other
uses of the knife.

o-(----

Somewhere, a phone rang... 

"Hello?"

"Yo Ryouga, I got something incredible to tell you man!"

o-(----

The End "The Uses of a Knife!"

Ending Theme..."Suicide is Painless" If you don't know the tune, it's
the M.A.S.H. Theme Song

        The Game of Life is Hard to Play...
        I'm Going to Lose it Anyway...
        My Final Card I'll One Day Lay...
        And That is All That I, Have to SaaaaaAAAAYYYY...

        Suicide is Painless...
        It Brings So Many Changes...
        And I Can Take or Leave It If I Pleasssseee...
 
Paraphrased Neitzche (I think) The thought of suicide is a great comfort
it has gotten many a man through many a dark forgotten night...