All previous chapters of this story may be found at http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless

               =========================
                      RELENTLESS
                A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction

                   By Grayson Towler
               =========================


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                     CHAPTER ELEVEN:
               	   Fall Into Place
-----------------------------------------------------------

The first rays of dawn struck like weightless arrows against the 
walls of the Tendou Dojo, beaming their golden radiance through 
the crisp autumn air.  Nabiki welcomed the sparse warmth that the 
early morning sun afforded.  She didn't have to be up at this early 
hour - this was one of the days she hadn't scheduled herself to go 
to the restaurant in the morning - but she seemed to have lost the 
ability to sleep in.  <Another side-effect of running a business, I 
guess,> she thought.  <Oh well.>

Nabiki hunched in her sweatshirt against the dawn's chill and angled 
towards the open front door, hoping to catch a stronger dose of the 
sunrise.  Savory aromas drifted in from the kitchen where Kasumi was 
preparing breakfast.  Natsume was already working out in the yard, 
unfazed by the cold in her tank top and loose pants.  No doubt her 
sister was still dead to the world - now that was a girl who knew 
how to sleep.

It was a little strange to see Saotome Genma up so early.  The 
bulky, bespectacled man sat on the edge of the porch, scribbling 
sporadically in a small notebook and occasionally muttering to 
himself.  Nabiki drew a little closer to try to catch what he was 
saying.

"Golden morn... the golden orb... hmm."

Nabiki looked over curiously at Genma.  "What are you doing?"

"Oh!" he seemed startled by her presence.  "Ha, um... good morning, 
Nabiki.  I was just writing a little poetry."

Nabiki raised a cynical eyebrow.  "Do tell."

"Poetry is it, Saotome?" Tendou Soun said from the hall as he 
shuffled towards them.  He was brushing his teeth as he walked - 
Nabiki never had understood her father's peculiar fixation with 
dental hygiene.  

"Well, just a little bit, Tendou," Genma replied with a laugh.

"How long has it been since you wrote poetry, my old friend?" 
Nabiki's father asked.  "Why, I haven't heard any of your poems 
since we were training."

"Yes, that was the last time," Genma said with a nod.  "I used to 
write a great deal, but old Happosai hated all my poetry.  Do you 
remember?"

"Mmm, yes." Tendou Soun took a seat beside his friend and cocked his 
head, recalling old memories.  "Yes, now I recall.  You had a big 
journal full of poems, and he was going to burn it.  I seem to 
remember we gave him a substitute book at the last minute, didn't 
we?"

Genma shrugged.  "It didn't matter, Tendou.  He threatened to make 
leather shoes out of my hide if he ever heard another one of my 
poems.  But now, since he's no longer our Master... well, I 
decided..."

"Ah!" Soun exclaimed.  "You're free to write again!  That's 
splendid.  So, let's hear what you've written, then."

Genma scratched the back of his neck and looked self-conscious.  
"Well, I'm a bit out of practice, you know.  But here goes:

	Oh how I love to watch the morn,
	The golden sun that shines,
	Up above to nicely warm
	These frosty toes of mine.
	The wind doth taste of bittersweet,
	Like jasper wine, and sugar,
	I bet it's blown through others' feet,
	Like those of... eh?"

Strange gurgling noises issued from the front lawn, distracting 
Saotome Genma from his reading.  Nabiki looked up and was surprised 
to see Natsume thrashing spasmodically on the ground.  The young 
martial artist, normally so controlled in her every motion, clutched 
onto the trunk of a tree with both arms, one leg twitching and 
flailing while the other stuck out like a wooden beam from her hip, 
its every muscle cramped tighter than stone.  Natsume squeezed her 
eyes shut and stammered inarticulately:  "B...bbb... bba... b..."

"Natsume?" Tendou Soun called worriedly.

"What on earth...?" Nabiki began, heading tentatively towards the 
flailing young woman.

"Morning, everyone," came a voice from behind them.  Kurumi shuffled 
down the hall in her nightshirt, her hair still tangled chaotically 
from sleep.  "What's up?"

"I think something's wrong with your sister," Nabiki observed, 
pointing to the lawn.

"Nats... NATSUME!" Kurumi shouted, jolting awake.  She sprinted 
past the three of them in a pink blur towards her sister.  The small 
fighter cradled Natsume in her arms, covering the elder girl's ears 
with her hands.  "Was somebody reading bad poetry?" she asked.

"Uh..." Genma adjusted his spectacles nervously and sweated.  "Well, 
er... I didn't think it was..."

"Yeah," Nabiki answered, jerking a thumb towards the recalcitrant 
culprit.  "He was.  Is THAT what caused this?"

Natsume's fit seemed to be passing, fortunately.  She relaxed her 
grip on the tree trunk, letting her fingers slide out of the grooves 
she'd dug into the bark as her body slowly came back under her 
control.  "B...bad..." she whispered, panting.

"Come on, get up," Kurumi told her gently, squirming under her 
sister's arm and hauling her to her feet.  "You're okay."

"What was that all about?" Nabiki asked.

Kurumi helped her limping sister over to the edge of the porch and 
sat her down.  "When we were just kids," she told them, "our mother 
had a box of things that we thought belonged to our real father.  
When she died, we went through everything there trying to find a 
clue about who he was."

"I thought that was where we got the scroll of Anything-Goes 
techniques," Natsume whispered, still trembling slightly.  "But I 
guess I'm remembering wrong, if Happosai was the one who gave it to 
us."

"We were very young," Kurumi said with a sigh.  "Anyway, one thing 
that I'm certain that was in the box was a book of... well, poetry, 
for lack of a better term.  I was too young to read it, but Natsume 
was determined to go through the whole thing to get to know our 
father better."

"That couldn't have been our father's work," Natsume said darkly.  
"The book must have been put there by some cruel spirit or 
something."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow.  Natsume wasn't the sort of girl who 
normally resorted to supernatural explanations.  "What do you 
mean?"

"No human mind could conceive something so awful," the dark-haired 
martial artist stated grimly.

Kurumi sighed.  "The poetry was really bad," she explained.  "I 
never read it, so I don't know for sure..."

"I'd never expose you to something so horrible," Natsume said.

"But anyway, it had to be pretty terrible.  Big sister was up all 
day and all through the night, forcing herself to read every word.  
When I came to check on her in the morning, I found her on the 
floor, like that," she said, indicating the lawn where Natsume had 
been so recently writhing.  "Ever since then, she's been vulnerable 
to bad poetry."

Genma coughed violently and mopped the sweat from his brow.  Tendou 
Soun looked rather thoughtful.  "Well," he said.  "Every great 
martial artist has a secret weakness, I suppose."

Nabiki smirked.  "So all it takes is a little bad verse, and you're 
history," she observed.  "Hmm... 
	Pointy birds, pointy, pointy,
	Anoint my head, anointy-nointy..."

Natsume's legs kicked out from under her, one snapping straight 
while the other flailed like a loose garden hose.  She grabbed onto 
the support beam and clenched her jaw tight.

"Nabiki!" Kurumi shouted accusingly.

Nabiki held up her hands in a gesture of innocence.  "Just testing!  
Sorry!"

"T...take my word for it," Natsume hissed through her gritted 
teeth.  "It works."

<Now that's leverage,> Nabiki thought as she watched her adopted 
sister's spasms die down.  There was nothing in particular that she 
wanted out of Natsume at the moment, but it was so nice to have an 
ace like that in your hand, just in case.  "Doesn't work with bad 
song lyrics, does it?" she asked.

"Nope.  Not bad prose either," Kurumi explained.  "Just poetry."

"Well, that's not so awful, then," Tendou Soun reassured Natsume.  
"Still, you'd better hold off on reading your work out loud, eh 
Saotome?"

Genma laughed nervously and fumbled with his journal.  "Heh heh, 
well, I guess you're right, Tendou," he stammered.  "Well, I guess 
I'd better be going!" 

Nabiki watched the stocky martial artist scamper away, then regarded 
Natsume and Kurumi thoughtfully.  <Interesting,> she thought.

- - - - - - 

Ranma-chan drifted out of the blackness of unconsciousness, returning 
from the distinctive abyss of oblivion she'd learned to associate 
with the Neko-ken technique.  Low signals of pain - soreness from 
her limbs, mostly - began to thread their way into her thoughts.  
The pungent odor of fish-cakes lingered in the air.

Ranma-chan stretched out of the tight, fetal posture in which she'd 
been sleeping and slowly rose to her feet, yawning for air.  <I 
musta done it,> she thought.  <I'm still alive.>

She'd known the Neko-ken technique was a perfect strategy to use 
against this monster.  It allowed her to do everything you were 
supposed to do when you fought the Reikoku - it gave her new 
abilities the thing had never seen before, allowing her to fight 
with a completely different style.  What's more, the monster would 
essentially waste a whole set of adaptations when it rose again, 
coming up with a host of countermeasures to the Neko-ken which 
wouldn't do it any good if Ranma-chan didn't attempt to invoke the 
technique for the next battle.

In fact, Ranma-chan had hoped she'd be able to save this particular 
card to play if and when she tangled with the Reikoku for the third 
time, rather than the second.  It would have been awfully nice to 
get it to waste its adaptive powers going into its fourth and final 
incarnation, if matters came to that.

<Still, couldn't afford to take any chances,> she thought.  She 
looked down at herself and noted some shallow but significant cuts 
and scratches across her limbs.  <Besides, maybe it's better this 
way.  If it could tag me even with the Neko-ken this time, it mighta 
done a whole lot worse in its third stage.>

The Neko-ken was undeniably powerful, but it had some serious 
drawbacks.  The primary problem was that it made Ranma-chan as 
mindless as the Reikoku itself.  Using the technique meant she 
completely abandoned control of a fight, which was a risky 
proposition when the stakes were this high.

At least her training had worked, thought.  That was something.  
She'd known that the odds were pretty much nil that she'd have a 
cat handy when she had to face the monster, so she'd needed to 
devise a way to access the Neko-ken's power without direct feline 
intervention.  Her dream training had cost her a whole string of 
nights full of self-induced horror, followed by mornings featuring 
a lot of fish stench and cold baths, but it had worked.  It had all 
been worth it.

<I wonder how long I've been under?> she thought.  The sky was 
mostly dark, with the last traces of sunlight diminishing through 
the evergreens.  She couldn't have been out for more than an hour 
or so.  Now, the only question left was where the Reikoku's body 
lay.

Ranma-chan closed her eyes and tipped her head back ever so 
slightly, gently sniffing the air.  Even when the Reikoku was 
dormant, it put off a nasty aura.  She felt it almost immediately - 
back in the direction of the river.  Her cat-self must've decided to 
get a little distance from that ugly beast before settling down for 
a nap.  She understood completely.

It didn't take long to find the clearing where she'd fought the 
Reikoku.  Ranma-chan surveyed the carnage and whistled in surprise.  
She always left a mess when she used the Neko-ken, but this was an 
exceptional scene even by that standard.  The grass by the river was 
chewed up into wads of lumpy mulch, peppered with streamers of 
sliced stone that were cut into improbably thin ribbons like strands 
of excelsior paper.  The surrounding trees had taken a beating as 
well -  Ranma-chan counted almost two dozen full-grown conifers that 
were nothing more than stumps now, chopped into uneven masses of 
kindling and sprayed across the clearing, like handfuls of immense 
toothpicks hurled to earth by a petulant god. 

In the midst of this devastation lay the Reikoku.  It seemed like 
little more than a limp heap of black rags, unless you counted the 
corrosive aura of menace which radiated from its unearthly form.

"This round goes to me, ya ugly bastard," she spat.  Her voice was 
the only living sound for miles around.

Now, another challenge presented itself.  They'd already seen the 
way the Reikoku selected its targets - it homed in on whichever of 
its designated victims was closest at hand.  So, in order to protect 
Ukyou and Ryouga, who'd be stuck in the Amazon village for 
who-knew-how long, she had to make sure SHE was always closer to the 
monster than they were.  It promised to be a tricky game of 
cat-and-mouse, and this time she definitely was not the cat.

Ranma-chan took a deep breath and steeled her will.  She didn't have 
much choice - she had to get this monster as far away from the 
Amazon village as possible before it woke up.  She regarded the 
inert black mass dubiously.  "I don't like it," she told it, "but 
I guess I'll have to carry you for a while."

Ranma-chan recovered her pack from the edge of the clearing, then 
approached the dormant beast cautiously.  She wondered how much it 
weighed.  There was only one way to find out.

Her hands sunk into the folds of black cloth, seeking something 
solid upon which to gain purchase.  Touching the creature set her 
nerves into a shrill, metallic cacophony of revulsion.  The dark 
fabric seemed to be sucking at her, hungering for her life and 
vitality, flooding her bloodstream with oily hatred, until her 
fingertips finally found its chitinous flesh...

Ranma-chan jerked back with a screech, tumbling away from the 
creature's body in an awkward sprawl.  Her reflexes took her 
scrambling away from the beast for a few seconds until she finally 
regained mastery of them and brought her body to a halt.  She lay 
there on the shredded turf, gasping for air as a clammy layer of 
sweat lay cold across her flesh.

<Carryin' it is definitely out,> she thought ruefully.  Prolonged 
contact with the creature was unthinkable.  <That's why Pantyhose 
wrapped it up in canvas,> she realized.  <I wonder if my tent would 
be big enough?>

Somehow, the thought didn't appeal to her.  The idea of sleeping 
beneath a piece of cloth that had been poisoned by that monster's 
hideous presence chilled her bones.  Perhaps it was irrational, but 
she didn't want to expose that thing's corrosive aura to anything 
she planned to keep.

<Okay... maybe I can drag it,> she thought.  <Make some sorta... 
stretcher, or cart or somethin'.>  She glanced about, regarding her 
surroundings.  She did have a fair amount of raw material handy, 
especially in the form of chopped timber.  Surely there had to be 
a way...

Ranma-chan's gaze fell on the river, and she smacked her fist into 
her palm.  "A raft!" she exclaimed.  "It's PERFECT!"

The water flowed away from the Amazon village.  Ranma-chan hauled 
out her map and double-checked, but it did look like the river 
flowed for many kilometers along roughly the same course.  She'd 
just send the nasty creature downstream and get to a comfortable 
distance before it woke up.  She tucked her map back into her pack 
and got to work.

The full canvas of starlight had revealed itself across the evening 
sky by the time she'd finished.  The raft wasn't pretty and it sure 
as hell wouldn't be comfortable if a person tried to use it, but 
that was irrelevant.  It would float, and that was all she needed.

Ranma-chan picked out a long, straight branch, slightly too large 
to be a walking stick but cut to size with the eerie precision of 
the Neko-ken's phantom claws.  "Okay, ugly," she said to the 
motionless Reikoku as she planted the stick into the dusty folds 
of its robes.  "You're goin' on a nice long trip."

It was heavier than she'd anticipated, but she was able to roll it 
across the ground and up onto the surface of the makeshift raft 
without having to touch it again.  She braced her foot and gave a 
mighty shove, propelling the wooden raft across the mud-slicked 
river bank and into the water.

"See ya later, you son of a bitch!" she called as the current took 
hold of the awkward craft and drew it away from the shore.  She 
watched the diminishing form of the raft with satisfaction as it 
rocked its way down the river... until the edge hung up on an 
outcropping of rock and the misshapen vessel stopped, swaying like 
a starched flag in the wind.

Ranma-chan sighed and trotted down the river bank, her long pole in 
hand.  <Looks like I'm gonna have to babysit that raft for a while 
so it don't stop somewhere,> she thought.  <Man, don't it just 
figure?>

Ranma-chan glanced back upstream as she jabbed at the raft with 
her stick to dislodge it.  <I'm countin' on you, Ucchan,> she 
thought.  <Look after Ryouga and get him back on his feet.  He 
can't afford to stay still as long as this monster's on the loose.  
None of us can.>

- - - - - - 

Ukyou awoke bathed in cold sweat, clawing her way out of an endless 
swirling labyrinth of nightmares.  The sound of her wheezing breath 
filled the still air of the straw hut.  She cast about herself with 
wide eyes, clutching the coarse blanket to her damp chest.  Nothing 
registered as familiar.  She didn't have any idea where she was, 
couldn't remember how she'd gotten here.  Maybe she was still 
dreaming.

After a moment, she discarded that idea.  This was much too peaceful 
to be one of her dreams.  

Minutes passed - Ukyou stayed frozen in place. The tempo of her 
breathing grudgingly decreased and the sound of her hammering pulse 
slowly faded in her ears.  Thin tendrils of sunlight shone between 
the wooden slats of the windows in the hut, creeping across the 
rushes on the floor, the tangle of covers on her cot, her bare 
shoulders, her matted hair.  The whisper of churning water from 
the river outside drifted to her ears as the din of her gasping 
subsided.  She could hear the barest hint of voices through the 
walls now, girls laughing and speaking words she didn't understand.  
A goat bleated in protest at some outrage visited upon it, and the 
laughter rose for a moment in a gentle wave.

Several realizations came to her as the slivers of sunlight finally 
banished the last black tentacles of nightmare from her mind.  She 
was in the Amazon village.  Ranma was gone.  Ryouga was hurt.  Tarou 
was dead.

And she was terribly thirsty.

The last problem, at least, was something she could deal with.  
Ukyou disentangled herself from the blanket and inspected the room 
for her clothes.  She didn't find them, but there was a simple 
cotton shift on the stool in the corner that she assumed was meant 
for her.  She put it on, and then the bamboo sandals she discovered 
underneath it.

<Time to show your face,> she thought.  <Let's hope they're not ALL 
like Shampoo.>

Ukyou pushed open the door to her little hut and shielded her eyes 
against the late morning sun.

She didn't receive much in the way of greeting.  The hut they'd put 
her in was clearly on the edge of the village, away from the main 
centers of activity, but plenty of people were in view.  They were 
mostly women - dressed in simple, functional clothes, going about 
their daily chores as they'd been doing in this valley for thousands 
of years.  But for all its rural trappings, Ukyou could tell at a 
glance that this place was very different from the tiny mountain 
hamlets and villages she and her friends had passed through in their 
journeys through the Chinese Himalayas.  The Amazons were taller and 
stronger than their countrymen, all with healthy complexions and 
full sets of teeth in their mouths.  Their clothes were simple, but 
the colors were vibrant and the seams were all immaculately 
stitched.

And the hair!  These people had the cleanest, most luxurious hair 
Ukyou had ever seen.  Beautiful hair was some sort of tribal 
fixation amongst the Chinese Amazons, it seemed.  She supposed 
that she shouldn't have been surprised - Shampoo's hair was a 
wonder, much as she hated to admit it.  Most girls in Furinkan 
were almost as jealous of Mousse's hair... heck, even COLOGNE had 
luxurious, white tresses.  It was about the only beautiful feature 
the old hag had left.  Ukyou fingered the grime-drenched jungle 
that her own hair had become and grimaced self-consciously.  At 
least she ought to be able to find a decent place to clean up around 
here.

That is, if anyone would speak to her.  She'd been favored with a 
few brief, indifferent glances from the Amazons as she'd emerged, 
but for the most part they ignored her utterly.

Socialization could wait.  Ukyou homed in on the sound of gurgling 
water and made her way towards the river.  The water was clearer 
than chandelier crystals, so cold that it felt like it was slicing 
open her throat on the way down, but she though she'd never tasted 
anything so sweet.  Ukyou took a deep breath and dunked her whole 
head in the beautiful, sparkling river, letting the shocking cold 
blast through her brain, and then tossed her head back with a 
profound gasp.  A spray of water arced from her drenched hair.

"Careful, girl!" came a woman's voice.  "You'll fall in!"

Ukyou pulled herself erect and pivoted to face the speaker.  A 
parade of icy tendrils of water trickled its way down her body, 
raising goose-bumps across her skin.  "Uh... hi," she said.

The woman was middle-aged and short, wearing a fine white robe and 
white ribbons to tame a mane of hair showing its first hints of 
grey.  Ukyou knew she should remember this woman, but her mind 
refused to cough up that particular information.

"My name is Ban Daidu," the woman said, seeming to sense her 
discomfort.  "I'm the healer you met last night, when you and your 
friend came to our valley."

"Healer... RYOUGA!" she exclaimed with sudden urgency.  "Is 
Ryouga... is..."

"That's your friend's name, then?" Ban Daidu said soothingly.  
"She's taken quite a beating, my dear.  She's lucky to be alive.  
But don't worry.  We Amazons are very skilled in the healing arts, 
and I'm the best healer you'll find in a hundred kilometers.  I 
believe your friend will pull through."

Ukyou's vision blurred as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.  
"Thank you... thank you for helping us."

The healer gripped Ukyou's shoulder reassuringly.  "Do not fear, 
young one.  It is not our way to turn aside any woman in need, 
foreign or otherwise."

Ukyou felt a chill go down her spine which had nothing to do with 
the water from the river.  <Any woman, she said,> the young warrior 
thought.  <But how would they feel if they knew Ryouga is really a 
man?>

"Are you all right?" the healer asked.

"F... fine.  I'm just... really glad she's okay."  <Be very 
careful,> she told herself.  <Remember who you're dealing with 
here.  These are Shampoo's people.  This one may seem nice, but 
you KNOW their laws are insane.  Who knows what they'll do if they 
find out Ryouga's a guy?  You just let them keep believing he's a 
girl until he gets better, and then get the hell out of this 
place.>

"I'm sorry," the young okonomiyaki chef said.  "I'm just worried, 
that's all.  You'll let me know as soon as she gets up, won't you?"

"Of course," Ban Daidu assured her.

"She might be... disoriented, you see," Ukyou explained.  "Who 
knows WHAT she'll think unless I'm there to help her get her 
bearings.  What with her head injury and all."  She winced 
inwardly, hoping that didn't sound too suspicious.  She couldn't 
afford for Ryouga to say too much when he awoke, not if they wanted 
to keep his secret intact.

"That does raise the question," the Amazon said, "of how your 
friend sustained her injuries.  If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh," Ukyou said nervously.  <Another thing you'd better keep 
secret,> she thought.  <If old Cologne knew about the Reikoku, 
chances are that someone else around here will too.  If they find 
out that monster's coming for us, they ain't gonna want us hanging 
around their village, that's for sure.>  It was a legitimate 
concern, though... WAS she endangering all these people by being 
here?  If the Reikoku came here after her, and some of the young 
Amazon hotheads tried to fight it...

<No,> she decided.  <If it was after us, it'd be here already.  
Ranchan must've beaten it, and now he's leading it away from us.  
I can't expect these people to have faith in Ranma, but I do.  This 
was his plan... I won't fail him.>  Her chest tightened at the 
thought of Ranma, a tight lump forming in her throat.  <Please be 
okay...>

"Young lady?" the elder woman asked with concern.  "Are you all 
right?  What happened to you?"

"Oh!"  Ukyou took a deep breath.  "It was a... uh... an avalanche," 
she said.  "Ryouga pushed me aside, but she got hit by some really 
big rocks.  I was just so scared."  She smiled weakly.

"I understand," the healer said, nodding.  "That would explain her 
injuries."

<Not if you knew anything about Ryouga,> Ukyou thought.  His 
everyday life was practically an avalanche - it'd take more than 
that to hurt him so badly.  But there was no need to explain that.

"Well, my dear," the woman said, "you never did tell me your name."

"Oh... Kuonji Ukyou," she said, hoping that Shampoo had never 
mentioned their rivalry during her visits home.  Of course, they 
probably would have figured out already if she had - even someone 
who'd never met Ukyou would be able to guess she was the "Spatula 
Girl."  Which reminded her...

"Uh... excuse me, but where are all my things?" she asked.  "They 
weren't in my hut."

"Oh, they're at my place, with your friend.  Your clothes are being 
mended and cleaned.  And as for your weapons, it might be best if 
you didn't carry them around while you're here.  We are a warrior 
folk, you see, and some of the younger women can get rather 
belligerent if they feel challenged."

"No, I wouldn't challenge anyone..." Ukyou began.

"Nevertheless," Ban Daidu interrupted, "I think it would be safer 
if you did not go about our village armed.  Some of the girls might 
decide to put you to the test, you see.  You're not familiar with 
our laws.  Believe me, it's better if you don't get into any fights 
while you're here."

Ukyou forced a smile.  "That's fine," she said.  It wasn't fine, not 
by a long shot, but she couldn't afford to push it.  She'd just have 
to lay low and not draw attention to herself until Ryouga was ready 
to go.  Then, they'd leave this weird little burg in the dust.  
Ranma needed them.  It was hard to be patient, but she could do 
it.

"Believe me," she said, "the last thing I want is to cause any 
trouble."

- - - - - - 

Nabiki cradled her clipboard in one hand and held her pen poised 
above the paper.  "So," she addressed her audience.  "What do you 
think?"

The cluster of students crowded around the table she'd chosen in 
the center of the cafeteria, nibbling on the small segments of 
okonomiyaki arranged neatly before them on a series of plates.  
Nabiki addressed them in turn, prompting them for their comments 
and recording the results on her notepad.

"Well, this one isn't as sweet as I thought it should be..."

"Are these raspberries?  Do you think maybe you could use more of 
them?"

"I didn't even want to try the peanut-butter and banana one, but 
it's really good!"

"The chocolate sauce needs to be much thicker..."

"Are these really free?"

Nabiki smiled at that last question - she'd heard it quite a few 
times already.  "Yes, Mari," she assured the tennis captain.  
"They're free.  You guys are my test group.  I need your opinions 
more than your money, at least right now."

Natsume, who was quietly eating her own lunch at Nabiki's side, 
gave her a curious look.  "They keep asking you that," she 
observed.  The martial artist double-checked to make sure the sign 
declaring that free samples were available was still in place.  "Do 
you find that strange?"

"Nah," the Tendou girl replied.  "They're just being careful."

In fact, Nabiki was pleasantly surprised by the relative warmth of 
the reaction she'd received.  There was a time when she would have 
scoffed at the idea of using free food to make friends, but at this 
point Nabiki would take whatever she could get.  For a while, she'd 
been the unchallenged title-holder for the least popular girl in 
Furinkan, after that spate of coercion and blackmail while she was 
trying to keep her delivery operation alive.  She'd discovered an 
interesting thing about being the center of contempt: it got old 
pretty fast.  This was a good chance to win her way back into the 
good graces of the Furinkan student body - all of whom, she knew, 
were potential customers.

Besides, she really did need to do the research.  She and Konatsu 
had agreed to take another stab at expanding the Ucchan's menu, but 
this time she had no intention of blundering into another financial 
disaster.  This time, she would do her homework.

The idea that she and the ninja chef had come up with was to make 
dessert okonomiyaki.  The batter would be sweetened with sugar, the 
toppings would be mostly fruit, the sauces would be chocolate or 
caramel or tasty fruit jam.  But there were a lot of variables to 
sort out, and Nabiki was definitely not going to invest a lot of 
money in a new product if nobody would buy it.

She was pleased with the reactions she'd seen, though.  Her 
classmates were giving her a lot of useful feedback on this round 
of experimental dessert okonomiyaki.  Of course, there was no way 
to be absolutely sure that people would really be willing to spend 
money on something unfamiliar, but that was the nature of business 
risk.  At least this time she wouldn't put the restaurant in danger 
of bankruptcy with her new venture.

Nabiki glanced at her watch.  "Hey," she said to Natsume, "isn't 
your sister coming to lunch today?"

The tall girl shrugged.  "Mmm.  Probably talking with friends or 
something.  She'll be here soon."

"Just don't let her eat all my samples, okay?"

Natsume raised an eyebrow.  "She'd be perfectly happy to share her 
opinions with you."

"No offense," Nabiki said, "but I need people with more 
discriminating tastes than your sister.  You could serve that 
girl a deep-fried skunk butt and she'd come back for seconds."

"True enough, I suppose," the stately young fighter acknowledged.  
"Ah, I think I see her coming now..."

Natsume's voice trailed off to a whisper, her eyes widening with 
shock.  Nabiki realized that the babble of the cafeteria was dying 
to silence.  All heads turned to follow the progress of the small 
girl dressed in pink and red as she crossed the tile.

Nabiki stifled a gasp.

Kurumi didn't appear to notice the attention she was earning from 
her classmates.  The normally cheerful martial artist was lost in 
her own gloomy thoughts, shuffling across the cafeteria with her 
lunch bag held listlessly in one hand and her red hair ribbon 
dangling from the other.  She slumped into the seat next to her 
sister with a heavy sigh.  "Hi, guys," she muttered as she began 
to dig half-heartedly through her lunch bag.

"Kurumi..." Natsume managed to choke out.  "What... happened to 
your hair?"

The small girl ran her hand self-consciously across her scalp and 
sighed.  Her springy mop of hair was all but gone - all that 
remained was a shallow coating of stubble.  At this distance, 
Nabiki could now discern that there were shapes shaved into the 
girl's remaining hair, the rough outlines of pineapples situated 
above each temple.

Kurumi shrugged glumly.  "It's a new rule in the dress code," she 
said.  "I guess everybody's going to look like this, so it won't 
be SO bad."  For the first time, she gazed around the cafeteria at 
the sea of faces staring at her.  "What?" she asked nervously.  
"Didn't you guys hear about this?"

Natsume turned to Nabiki, speechless, her eyes begging for an 
explanation.

One of the boys in the crowd sniggered softly, earning swift elbows 
to the gut and the back of the neck from his surrounding classmates.  
Everyone else had the grace to look shocked and sympathetic.

Nabiki cleared her throat.  "Uh... that must've been our 
headmaster.  I... didn't know he'd gotten back today.  I would 
have warned you."

Kurumi looked confused.  "What's wrong?  Is there some reason 
nobody else has an Official Furinkan Pride Haircut?"

Nabiki put a hand on her adopted sister's shoulder.  "We should 
have told you.  In most schools, you do have to listen to what the 
headmaster tells you to do.  But not here.  Principal Kuno is 
something of a mental case."

"He's obsessed with shaving heads," another girl provided.

"He's always thinking of new ways to torture the students," a 
sophomore boy added.

"Nobody around here listens to him anymore," Nabiki continued.  
"If he really gets out of hand, somebody always just beats on him 
until he goes away."  She looked around the cafeteria helplessly.  
"I guess we should have realized he'd go after you..."

A chill filled the room.

This was not a metaphorical, psychological chill, but a genuine 
precipitous drop of temperature, centered around Tendou Natsume.  
Nabiki had seen a fair number of hot battle auras in her time, most 
spectacularly from Ryouga and Akane, but Natsume's wrath manifested 
like a deadly winter wind.  The water in nearby glasses actually 
froze, and the students in the cafeteria shivered.

"Nabiki-san," the tall girl said in a voice like a sheet of hail.

"Uh... yes?"

"Take care of my sister for me, please," she said quietly, giving 
the perplexed Kurumi an affectionate squeeze of the hand.  "There's 
something I need to do."

The crowd of students parted eagerly to clear the way between 
Natsume and the door.  Tiny crystals of ice swirled around the 
long-haired martial artist as she cut a deliberate path across the 
tile and out of the cafeteria.  The students of Furinkan, never 
ones to pass up a chance to witness a first-class butt-kicking, 
swirled in pursuit of Natsume like snowflakes carried in the grips 
of an arctic gale. 

Nabiki patted the newly-shaved young girl on the back as she watched 
the last of the crowd disappear.  "Come on," she said.  "Let's go 
see if we can find you a nice hat."

- - - - - -

Kunou Tatewaki wandered the grounds of Furinkan high, the drying 
grass of late autumn crunching softly beneath the tread of his 
sandaled feet.  The skeletal fingers of naked tree limbs cast a 
web of crisscrossed shadows across his melancholy countenance.  
Here he stood, the lord of all he surveyed with sword in hand, and 
yet the approaching winter had robbed the land of its vitality and 
spirit, leaving him the ruler of a hollow, empty kingdom.

He drew breath and gave forth a weary sigh.  The students of 
Furinkan accorded him a wide berth as he passed.  He acknowledged 
this gesture of deference to a superior, but to his sorrow he could 
not tell them the answer to the questions they sought - how they 
might lift the heavy, dark burden from the heart of their beloved 
champion.  He pitied them in their helplessness.

Yet whom amongst them could hope to beam the sunlight of joy back 
into his noble soul?  It had been many a moon now since last he laid 
eyes upon his beloved pig-tailed goddess, that jubilant wellspring 
of innocent feminine energy whose love buoyed him through the 
mundane storms of high school life.  It was her capricious nature 
to wander astray from time to time, but now it seemed as if she had 
utterly vanished, like the petals of summer flowers carried away in 
the chilling winds of early autumn.  Were it not for his modest 
collection of photographs, Kunou feared he might well have forgotten 
the contours of her lovely face altogether.

And now, Tendou Akane, the cherished blossom of his heart, was gone 
as well.  How empty the halls of this vaunted campus seemed without 
her radiant presence!  How small and petty the world had become 
without the endless, bursting illumination of her fearsome strength 
and spirit!  Yet gone she was, and it might well be a long, cold 
string of days and months before she would return.  Such was the 
loneliness of Kunou Tatewaki.  He was like the barren earth, black 
and covered with frost, for up above in the firmament his sun and 
moon had ceased to shine.

Even the thrill of battle had lost its savor.  Maintaining his 
position as undefeated champion of Junior Kendo took no more than 
a tiny fraction of his prodigious skills.   Foes fell to his blade 
like stalks of grain before the reaper.  What challenge could mere 
children provide for one fit to vanquish giants?  Yet all the worthy 
foes had gone, leaving him with a string of empty victories, the 
wine of triumph tainted by the bitter wormwood of apathy.  He was 
surprised to admit this to himself, but he actually missed the 
presence of Saotome Ranma, against whom he might test his skill.  
True, the sneering junior-classman was the worst sort of deviant 
and moral reprobate, but he HAD been an adversary of merit on the 
battlefield.

Now, though, it seemed as if Saotome might never return, if the 
chatterings of the student body could be believed.  No doubt the 
young scoundrel had finally realized the peril he faced in 
challenging the mighty Kunou Tatewaki, the Sky-Cleaving Titan 
of Furinkan High, and had fled in mortal terror.  And now, where 
were the epic battles for righteous vengeance which had once carried 
him like a gale of golden fury from one day to the next?  Was he 
truly a crusader without a cause, a Romeo without any Juliets, the 
last true samurai in a windswept wasteland of plastic and concrete?

"SUCH TRAGEDY!" he bellowed to the heavens.  Several nearby students 
turned and fled, their grief for the plight of their heartbroken 
hero no doubt overwhelming them.

He withdrew momentarily from the depths of his contemplations to 
realize that his ambulations had carried him to a scene of some 
manner of unrest.  Before him was the outdoor pool of Furinkan 
High (which held a special place in his heart, for it was the site 
at which the pig-tailed girl first threw herself into his loving 
embrace).  Yet clustered on the edges, milling about like a gaggle 
of perplexed geese, were the members of the Boys Varsity Swimming 
Team.  Since the welfare of all students of this noble institution 
was always his rightful concern, Kunou strode forth to witness what 
manner of difficulty these young Speedo-clad gentlemen faced.

"How now, good athletes," he addressed them.  "Why look ye so 
vexed?"

Some of the hearty lads quivered, as was common behavior amongst 
many students so awed by the magnitude of his presence, but the 
captain of the team stepped up to offer response.  "Uh... well, 
look at the pool, sir," he said.

Kunou cast his gaze upon the waters, and was met with a vision of 
stunning improbability.  Though the autumn skies of Nerima sported 
a bracing wind, the chill was nowhere near strong enough to freeze 
water - and yet, the waters of the pool had frozen into a smooth, 
thick sheen of glistening ice!  So bewildered was Kunou by this 
enigma that he at first did not notice the single blemish upon the 
pristine, icy surface, until he heard a wavery voice drifting 
through the chilly air.

"T...tt...Tacchi!  B... bb... be a go...gg... good keiki and g...
g... get your fad...fadda outta here!"

There could be no mistaking it - his father's head protruded from 
square in the center of the frigid, blue-white blanket.  From the 
shoulders down, the headmaster of Furinkan High School was embedded 
in the ice.

"We have a practice scheduled," the swim captain said.  "But we 
can't..."

Kunou swept his mighty bokken in a powerful gesture of authority, 
silencing the prattle of the aquatic athlete.  "Speak now!  What 
manner of person did inflict such a fate upon mine own father?  
Answer swiftly!"

The captain gulped nervously.  "It was that new girl!  Tendou 
Natsume!  You know the one with the long hair and the really big... 
uh..."

"Rugbeater," another swimmer provided.

"Tendou Natsume," Kunou whispered.  "I see."  The noble samurai 
closed his eyes to contemplate this matter.  The swimmers shifted 
about nervously, and his father's teeth chattered.

"There is only one course of action suitable in this most extreme 
of circumstances," he intoned gravely.

"Wh... whadda good son!" the principal enthused from his icy 
prison.  "He... go...g...gonna get m... me out..ta here and d... 
den tt... ttt... ttteach d... dat delinquent wahine a gg...good 
lesson!"

Kunou opened his eyes and raised his sword to punctuate his 
impending proclamation.  "Go forth!" he commanded.  "And summon 
here the esteemed members of the Furinkan High Ice Hockey Club!"

"Sir?"

"T...Tacchi!"

He gazed upon the swim captain.  "Ruined though thy practice may 
be, should not this unexpected windfall of ice be put to proper 
use?  Go forth, I say, and do as I bid!"

The swimmers grinned hugely, and the captain even saluted.  "Yes 
SIR!"

Some time later, Kunou sat in meditation upon the high dive 
platform, listening to the scrape of metal skates against ice 
and the occasional melodious clunk of a speeding puck bouncing 
off his father's skull, and pondered the surprising events of the 
day.  A tiny smile of anticipation played across his heroic 
features.  It had been too long since he'd felt this good.

- - - - - -

The Amazon girl stared at her emotionlessly as Ukyou accepted 
the chopsticks and the bowl of rice.  "Thanks," the young chef 
hazarded with a smile.

The teenager showed all the expression of a stone slab.  If she 
hadn't been visibly breathing, Ukyou could've sworn she was no more 
than a remarkable wax replica of a Chinese martial artist.  The 
Amazon watched her for a few moments more, just long enough to make 
her fidget, then turned and trotted briskly away, ponytails swishing 
behind her.

<Hospitable place,> Ukyou thought sourly.  It was likely that the 
kid didn't speak Japanese, but it probably made no difference.  The 
reactions she'd endured in the past two days from the Amazon 
villagers had been varied, but on the whole the attitudes of the 
women conveyed a single message, loud and clear:  she was not wanted 
here.  The men, it seemed, weren't allowed anywhere near her; she 
hadn't seen an Amazon male come within twenty meters.  It figured 
that a tribe with such extreme laws about outsiders would cultivate 
a rather phobic nature towards anybody not native to this little 
valley.  Perhaps they were kinder to other Chinese.

<I don't care,> she thought.  <Ban Daidu has been nice enough, and 
if she takes care of Ryouga, that's all that matters.>  She set her 
empty bowl down and made ready to rise.  She wanted to check up on 
the lost boy, just in case...

"Miss Kuonji," came the familiar voice of the Amazon healer from 
behind her.  Ukyou turned to face Ban Daidu.

"Oh good," she began.  "I was just going to come ask you..."

The young chef's voice trailed off as she saw the stern look of 
intense displeasure on Ban Daidu's face.  The healer had not come 
alone - a half dozen Amazon women and girls trailed her, all wearing 
masks of controlled anger and contempt.  Ukyou swallowed hard.

"Um... how is Ryouga?" she asked weakly.

"Your friend is just fine," Ban Daidu said tersely.  "In fact, your 
friend is recovering quite admirably.  It really is amazing, just 
how quickly your friend's health is improving."

The news was good, but the healer's voice was laced with flat anger.  
Ukyou didn't understand.  "I... that's great," she said.  "Then you 
think we can..."

"In fact," the elder woman interrupted sharply, "I've only seen a 
very few people recover with the same kind of miraculous alacrity 
which your friend is displaying."

Several other members of the village were coming to see what was 
going on.  One of the girls whispered to the crowd in Chinese, 
translating for the benefit of those who couldn't understand what 
was being said.  Ukyou spared a wary glance towards the growing 
assembly of observers, then returned her attention to the healer.  

"Look," she tried again.  "I don't know what you're..."

Ban Daidu cut her off with a curt wave of the hand.  "I think you 
need to explain something to us, Kuonji Ukyou.  I think you need to 
tell us how your friend came to learn the bakusai ten-ketsu!"

Mutters rippled through the audience, and the faces of the Amazons 
grew darker.  Ukyou simply gaped.  

"What?" she stammered.  "Now look... the old woman taught Ryouga 
that technique!  Cologne!" she clarified quickly.  "She's one of 
you, right?"

More surprise and angry whispering followed Ukyou's statement.  Ban 
Daidu narrowed her eyes.  "I doubt that very much, girl," she 
snapped.

"But it's TRUE!" Ukyou cried.

"Then tell me this," the healer shot back, her voice rising.  "Why 
would our own matriarch teach one of our most secret and powerful 
techniques to one who is not only an outsider... but a MAN!?"

<Uh oh,> Ukyou thought.  Enraged voices rose from the gathered 
Amazons as they digested this revelation.  The okonomiyaki chef 
stepped back nervously, her heartbeat accelerating.

"Oh yes," Ban Daidu continued, pressing closer.   "It's fairly 
routine to bathe a patient, to sanitize their wounds and cleanse 
their bodies.  Imagine my surprise when I set a spongeful of warm 
water on your friend's skin.  You've been to Jusenkyou, girl.  
HAVEN'T you?" She all but shouted the last question.

"Y... yes," Ukyou croaked.

"You LIED to us, outsider!" Ban Daidu snapped.  "What else have 
you been lying about?"

Ukyou's fear was strong now, but her own anger could not be kept in 
check.  "Look, damn it," she shot back, "all I wanted was some help 
for Ryouga.  I didn't think you'd care if he was a boy or a girl.  
You're a doctor, right?"

"Stupid girl," the healer hissed.  "Men have their own healers in 
our village.  You have no idea what you've done."

"Are the men doctors as good as you?" Ukyou countered.  "Didn't you 
say you were the best healer for a hundred kilometers?  Could the 
others have saved his life?"

Ban Daidu pursed her lips angrily, but she didn't answer the 
question.  Instead, she flung one of her own at Ukyou.  "No 
avalanche could have inflicted such damage to one who has mastered 
the bakusai ten-ketsu, girl.  How did that man REALLY get hurt?"

Ukyou fished for a suitable answer for a few seconds, then gave up.  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she finally said.  "You 
don't even believe Cologne taught him your precious technique."

"The very idea that she would..."

"FINE!" Ukyou spat.  "So WHAT?  Are you going to kill us?  Throw us 
in jail?  Feed us to the goats?  Or do you just want to stand here 
foaming at the mouth all day?  Let's get to the bottom line here, 
sweetheart!"

Ban Daidu took a measured step back and composed her expression.  
"No, we aren't going to do any of that," she informed Ukyou 
clinically.  "The men shall see to your friend's recovery, but 
I suspect he shall be conscious by tomorrow, perhaps even tonight.  
When he wakes, I want you both gone.  I don't want to see your 
lying face in this village ever again."

"Suits me fine," Ukyou said bitterly.  "The sooner I'm out of here, 
the better."

"I couldn't agree more," the healer grumbled as she turned to 
leave.

- - - - - - 

Saotome Ranma had been a martial artist since before he could even 
properly walk, but even he could never quite predict when and how 
inspiration would strike.  A person could train day and night, 
struggling to perfect a new technique or master a new discipline, 
never quite getting the hang of it until some perfect moment when 
everything would suddenly, wonderfully, fall into place.  Such 
instances of revelation were exquisite beyond description, and Ranma 
could remember each and every one of them.  

This time, it happened in a small country restaurant.  His modest 
but satisfying meal was finished, he was just setting down his 
chopsticks and picking up his tea to polish it off, when something 
just clicked in his mind.  He knew how to make it work.

Unable to restrain himself, Ranma focused his concentration.  In 
his right hand, the tea in his cup crackled and froze solid.  In his 
left, the chopsticks he'd been holding erupted in a bright flash of 
flame.  

<Got it!> His mind surged with elation.  He'd been training up to 
this moment for a long time, incrementally improving his ability to 
control ki, switching his battle aura from hot to cold in an 
instant.  Now, though, he'd crossed the threshold - he could produce 
a hot aura AND a cold one at the same time.  

"Sir?" a nearby waiter said, his Japanese colored by a thick 
accent.

"Oh.  Hey man, I think these are defective," he told the waiter, 
showing him the charred remains of his chopsticks.  "Good grub 
though.  Gotta run!"

Ranma didn't wait for a reaction - he simply set down his money 
and made for the door.  Now that he had the hang of his aura 
control, there were a great many things he wanted to try. If he 
was right, the applications of this talent could be truly 
remarkable.  And he certainly didn't want to test out his new 
ideas in the confines of a restaurant.  <I'd destroy a lot more 
than a pair of chopsticks,> he thought giddily.  

It was a pity that nobody was here to share his achievements.  He'd 
only spent a couple of days away from Ryouga and Ukyou, but he 
missed them already.  He also wouldn't have minded if his pop had 
been around to see his new techniques.  But really, the one he most 
wanted to show off to was Akane...

<She always likes it when I do something cool in martial arts,> he 
thought.  <She don't admit it, but I can tell.  There's a lot I 
can't figure out about her, but at least I know that much.>

There was no point wishing Akane was here, though.  She was, at 
least, exactly where he wanted her to be - back in Japan, safe at 
home, away from the Reikoku and all of the horror it caused.  Until 
the monster was defeated, he couldn't see her, and it was a 
distraction from his training to even daydream that it might 
be otherwise.

Ranma took to his heels and pelted out of town, back towards the 
wilderness.  It was time to test his skills.

- - - - - -

Akane pressed herself against the wall to stay out of the path of 
the surging crowd at the airport, the receiver of the pay phone 
cradled against her ear.  She almost had to shout to make herself 
heard above the background noise of the throng.  "I said the flight 
was fine, Nabiki!" she yelled.

Her sister's voice was wavery and indistinct across the poor 
connection.  "Get your map out, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I need to tell you how to find Ranma," Nabiki called 
back.  "I just heard from him yesterday!"

"Excuse, me, Miss?"  

Akane turned towards the voice.  "I'm a little busy now," she 
said.  

"Airport security, Miss," a man in a blue uniform said in passable 
Japanese.  "I'm afraid I need to ask you some questions."

Akane shifted to get a better look at the tall stranger.  "What?"

The man glanced over her luggage.  "In which of these bags are you 
keeping your panties, Miss?" he asked.

Akane pulled the receiver away from her ear and glared angrily.  
"I BEG your pardon!"

"We've had a rash of panty thievery," the man explained.  "If you 
could just turn your panties over to me, for safe-keeping..."

Upon scrutiny, it was apparent that the "airport security" insignia 
pinned to the man's shirt was, in fact, a plastic child's police 
badge.  He was also wearing tennis shoes which Akane suspected was 
not the norm for Chinese government officials.  "Get lost, creep," 
she snarled.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate your... GLAACK!"  

Akane reached out, grabbed a handful of the man's shirt, and simply 
lifted.  She didn't even give him a moment to properly dangle in the 
air before she slammed him back down to the ground.  He stayed on 
his feet, but the shock of the impact traveled the length of his 
body like an electric wave.  He staggered away, his feet throbbing 
in pain, barely managing to avoid getting run down by the mobs of 
hurrying travelers.  Akane shook her head in disgust and returned to 
her conversation.

"What the hell was that?" Nabiki asked.

"That was the THIRD panty thief I've met since I got here, and I 
haven't even made it out of the airport!" Akane fumed.  "That old 
goat is like a virus or something.  He's infected the entire 
country!"

"Never mind that," Nabiki said.  "Look, the way you get to Ranma 
is..."

"Tell me later," Akane said.  "I'm going to the Amazon village 
first."

"Still?  Akane... you KNOW he's on his own now!  Do you really have 
time for that?"

"I trust Ranma," Akane insisted.  "He'll survive until I get to 
him.  I'm not going to do him any good by being there unless I've 
got a good plan to save him."

"Since when did you ever need a plan?" Nabiki teased.

"Ha, ha.  You are paying for this call, you know.  Do you really 
have time to sit there and insult me?"

Nabiki snickered.  "Okay, good point.  But don't take too long at 
the Amazon village.  And call me as soon as you can!  There aren't 
many phones around there, you know."

"I know.  I'll call soon."

"Bye."

Akane hung up and leaned against the wall for a moment longer.  
It was good to hear her sister's voice, even over a bad connection.  
She was trying her best to be confident, but it was hard.  She was 
alone in a foreign land now, with no guide to show her the way, 
trying to find a way to outsmart a power which had existed for 
thousands of years so she could save the one she...

Ranma.  To save Ranma.  

<I have no room for error, now,> she thought.  <I can't afford to 
make any dumb mistakes, because there's nobody here to bail me out.  
Natsume, Kurumi, Dr. Tofu, my father, my sisters... they've all 
given me everything they could to help me on my way.  Now, it's up 
to me.>

Akane drew a deep breath and turned to face her destiny.

"Panties for the poor?" an old beggar whined, waving a bag in her 
face.  "Donate some panties for the poor, starving orphans of 
China?"

Akane ground her teeth and shoved past the charlatan.  <Old Happosai 
had better pray he doesn't cross my path,> she grumbled to herself. 

- - - - - - 

It became clear as the day wore on that it was not going to be so 
easy to get away from the Amazon village unscathed.  Where she had 
been regarded with suspicion and indifference before, Ukyou was now 
met with glares of open hostility.  The women of the valley looked 
up from their work as she passed, raking her over with eyes loaded 
full of contempt.  Ukyou kept her gaze pointed straight at the 
ground in front of her as she walked.

<Just don't look at them,> she instructed herself.  <Don't start 
anything.>

The hours dragged by, and Ukyou spent the time trying to stay out 
of the way.  Even that proved increasingly difficult - each time 
she thought she'd found some place to simply tuck herself away and 
stay out of sight of the villagers, a group of Amazon girls 
inevitably found some reason to be in that very place as well.  
Each time Ukyou picked herself up and moved on once she saw them 
coming... each time with greater reluctance.

She knew they were trying to pick a fight.  Part of her - a part 
that grew ever more insistent as the day crawled on - wanted nothing 
more than to oblige them.  Maybe it was suicidal to get into a 
scrape in the middle of the Amazon village, but that part of her 
didn't care.  Better than scurrying away like a frightened mouse 
every time an Amazon girl came too close.

<Just find another place to hole up,> she told herself sternly as 
she walked down the dirt path leading to the western edge of the 
village.  <Play it cool and you can get the hell out of here by 
tomorrow.  Think of Ryouga.>

So she pressed on, eyes on the brown grit of the road.  When she 
saw a cluster of dark-eyed teenagers gathering on the footbridge 
across the stream in her path, she turned and went the other way.  
When a trio of girls pulled their cart into the road and waited with 
crossed arms, she detoured through the underbrush and thistles to 
avoid them.  When a big, muscular girl with a face like a bowl of 
squashed cranberries shoulder-checked her on the street so hard that 
she almost ended up sprawled flat in a mud puddle, she simply bowed 
deeply and went on her way.

But when the splash of ice-cold water sloshed over her like a 
blanket of needles, that was all she could stand.

"WHAT the HELL..." she spluttered, whirling in the direction from 
which the watery outrage had originated.  She had a moment to 
register a short, smirking teenager with an empty bucket in her 
hand before a heavy splash of scalding hot water slammed into her 
back.  Ukyou screamed in shock, arching her back and clenching her 
fists against the blistering agony.

The girl with the bucket hopped off the railing upon which she'd 
been perched and sauntered into the road in front of Ukyou.  She was 
joined a moment later by another girl of similar height, holding an 
empty kettle.  Both wore tunics adorned with large pink hearts on 
the front and insufferable expressions of smugness.

"Why you little..." Ukyou seethed.  A crowd was gathering, simmering 
with mocking giggles.  Water dripped from Ukyou's drenched clothes 
and hair.

To her surprise, the little girls spoke Japanese.  "Oh, so sorry," 
one said in an innocent voice.  "We just make sure you not turn into 
mans, too.  Right, Lung Lung?"

"Right, Ling Ling," the other agreed.

<BACK AWAY!> a voice inside howled plaintively.  <Just let it go!>

But she couldn't.  Not after everything else.  Her face was numb 
from the cold, her back was boiling with scalding pain.  It was too 
much to forgive.  She raised her trembling fists and took up a 
fighting stance.  "I'm gonna mop the floor with you twerps," she 
snarled.

The one called Ling Ling pretended to be shocked, but the triumphant 
gleam in her eyes was plain to see.  "Lying Girl pick fight with us?"

"What's it look like, stupid?" she growled, advancing on her foes.

"Amazon womans never back down from fight," Lung Lung asserted with 
a savage grin.  The women in the crowd called out their 
encouragement.  Each of the two small warriors extended a beckoning 
hand, and another young woman in the audience responded by throwing 
them each a weapon.  Ling Ling caught her staff and twirled it above 
her head, while Lung Lung leveled the points of her trident towards 
Ukyou.

The Japanese fighter became acutely aware that she was unarmed... 
and facing a two-on-one battle.  "This is what you Amazons call a 
fair fight?" she asked, taking a step back.  The crowd jeered and 
closed a circle around her, cutting off escape routes.

"We two is sister twins," Ling Ling said as she danced to Ukyou's 
left.

"Two of body, one of mind," Lung Lung cartwheeled nimbly towards 
Ukyou's right flank.  

"So you admit you each have half a brain?" Ukyou taunted.  Her 
nerves were stretched taut, but she refused to let the girls 
intimidate her.  After all, she'd been training hard to fight 
without her weapon, improving all her martial arts skills under 
two of the best.  She couldn't let this pair of cherubic ruffians 
get the edge on her just because they were armed.  She had to have 
faith in Ranma, in Ryouga, on all the hard days and nights of 
training on the road.

Still, it would have been awfully nice to feel the reassuring heft 
of tempered steel in her hands right now.

<Don't think about that!> she admonished herself.  <They're trying 
to set it up so they attack in unison from both sides, so you can't 
defend.  Do something about it!>

Ukyou stopped retreating and lunged abruptly towards the girl with 
the staff.  Ling Ling spun her weapon in a defensive shield to ward 
off Ukyou's blows, hoping to set the okonomiyaki chef up for an 
attack from behind by her sister.  But to her distinct surprise - 
and to Ukyou's - the Japanese girl was fast enough to slip a punch 
in through the propeller-spin defense without so much as brushing 
the weapon.  It wasn't an accurate enough blow to hit a vital point, 
but Ling Ling still staggered back as Ukyou's fist connected with 
her abdomen.

Lung Lung leaped forward, trident poised to strike her foe's back, 
but Ukyou sensed her coming without having to look.  She scooted 
backwards, ducking under the arc of the small girl's leap, so Lung 
Lung would land with her back exposed to Ukyou's own attack.  Her 
foe tried to twist in mid-air to defend herself against the assault 
from behind, but she was too slow.  Ukyou's foot lashed out and 
caught her just above the rump, sending her tumbling at her sister's 
feet.  

The crowd grew considerably quieter.

Ukyou's confidence surged.  She was faster than these two 
pipsqueaks - a LOT faster.  Maybe this wouldn't be such a hard 
fight after all...

<Yeah, and what happens if you do beat 'em?> she found herself 
wondering.  <You're an outsider, remember?  You know the laws.>

"Great," she muttered to herself.  Maybe she could still back out 
of this.  These girls had to know she was no pushover - maybe they'd 
lose their stomach for this charade now.

"Okay, girls," she said.  "You had your fun, and now I  figure we're 
even.  Just back off and leave me alone, okay?"

"A fight with Amazon womans..." Ling Ling began.

"...is fight to finish!" her sister concluded.

"I figured as much," Ukyou grumbled.

"Outsider Lying Girl may be fast..." the small warrior with the 
staff acceded.

"...but she not see true power of Amazon techniques!" the other 
continued.  She then leaped upon her sister's shoulders.  "Amazon 
Sister Twins Special Attack..."

"... Punish Stupid Lying Girl Attack!" Ling Ling finished.  With 
that, they began to spin.

Ukyou backed away from the flailing whirlwind of amazon fury as the 
weapons of the two girls lashed out in a series of dizzying arcs 
towards her.  She wasn't keen on trying to block them bare-handed, 
and she didn't know if she'd be fast enough to slip in an attack 
through that mess without paying for it.

<So think of another tactic,> she told herself.  <Think like 
Ranchan.  Use your surroundings.  There's got to be some weakness 
you can... ah-HA!>

The young chef retreated from the twirling duo with a backflip, 
luring them into an aggressive charge.  She tried to look afraid 
to keep their attention focused on her, but she was pretty sure that 
they couldn't see very well when they were whizzing around like 
that, and that they wouldn't notice...

The spinning sisters crossed the spot where they'd hit Ukyou with 
their water ambush, where the dirt of the road had been transformed 
into thick, greasy mud.  With a surprised screech, Ling Ling lost 
her footing, and their spiral came unwound.  Both young fighters 
tumbled to the ground, splattering mud in every direction.

To Ukyou's surprise, some of the girls in the crowd began to laugh.  
Maybe Amazon solidarity wasn't all it was cracked up to be... or 
perhaps there were some other girls out there who had been 
victimized by these two pint-sized thugs, and had good reason to 
revel in their humiliation.  Ukyou crossed her arms and smirked 
as the two spluttered in the muck.  "Had enough?" she asked 
casually.

"Had enough playing around!" Ling Ling exclaimed.

"Time to finish with Ultimate Technique!" Lung Lung spat.

<Uh oh,> Ukyou thought.

The pair rose from the mud and executed a series of acrobatic 
tumbles to get some distance, until they finally came to a halt 
in front of a thick swatch of bushes.  They struck mirrored poses, 
each standing on one leg like a crane, and glared at Ukyou with 
feverish malice.  The crowd backed away rapidly, eager to distance 
themselves from whatever was going to happen next.

"Now witness final technique learned from 3000 years of Amazon 
fighting history!" Ling Ling cried.

"Behold power handed down from gods themselves to punish the 
insolent!" Lung Lung trumpeted.

And then, in unison:  "Dance of the Great Fire Dragon!"

With that, each threw down a small smoke bomb, kicking up a cloud 
that obscured them from vision.  With a thunderous roar, a great 
reptilian head arose from the stew of black vapor, fire trickling 
upwards from its gaping maw.  Ukyou gaped in astonishment.  It 
was... it was...

It was probably the most pitiful fake dragon dummy she'd ever 
seen.

Ling Ling and Lung Lung pranced out of the smoke, holding their 
metal contraption up above their heads on a pair of poles.  It was 
all Ukyou could do to keep from busting up with laughter... until 
she heard the music.

Some sort of tinny little melody issued forth from the body of the 
mechanical beastie, sufficiently innocuous and silly to be perfectly 
appropriate for the overall absurdity of the "great dragon."  But 
once the bubbly, empty-headed tune burrowed its way into Ukyou's 
ears, she found her body began to move on its own accord.  She was 
dancing, and she was powerless to stop.

Ukyou barely kept enough command of her own actions to dodge the 
fire blast which spurted from the dragon's hinged jaws.  The thing 
may have been an aesthetic wash-out, but it packed a pretty 
serviceable flame-thrower.  Ukyou took to her heels as fast as 
the dance would allow, with Ling Ling and Lung Lung in hot 
pursuit.  

<This... is... RIDICULOUS!> she thought venomously.  <I REFUSE 
to lose to a cheap trick like this, damn it all!>

But whatever magic or force powered that cheery little tune was no 
joke.  Ukyou found she could cover her ears for a short while, but 
that wasn't enough to wholly block out the music.  She couldn't 
keep it up for long enough to mount a kicking attack that would get 
past the flames spewing from the contraption's jaws.  The harder 
she fought against the impulse to dance, the more energy she burned 
in her struggle.  Eventually, she was going to run out of steam, and 
then she'd be toast... literally.

Through the clanking din of the music rattling in her head, she 
heard Ranma's voice come to her.  <The yin and the yang, Ucchan.  
It ain't just a cool-lookin' symbol, y'know?  It's the hard and the 
soft of martial arts.  Sometimes the hard ain't the best way to go - 
sometimes it don't work at all.  That's when you gotta go WITH the 
flow of your enemy's attack, instead of tryin' to go against it.  
You see?  Go with the flow...>

It was worth a shot.

Instead of resisting the dance, Ukyou allowed herself to be drawn 
into the act of motion, the rhythm and the pulse of the sound in 
time with the movements of her body.  Perhaps she couldn't stop 
dancing, but that didn't mean she couldn't exert some control over 
the way she danced.  In fact, a dance wasn't too far off from being 
a martial arts kata, when movement and form became one, when the 
body learned the reflexive postures and motions that would come 
naturally when battle was joined.  

She found herself drawn back to the training she'd done all those 
evenings with Ranma and Ryouga.  Ukyou plunged willingly into those 
memories, those hours of sweat and exertion and focus.  That had 
been a dance too, with Ranma setting the rhythm as he tossed the 
pinecones in the air and Ryouga beating out a counterpoint with 
every spatula he threw her way.  It had been a hard dance, much 
harder than this, its tempo increasing mercilessly each night as 
they stepped up the pace of the exercise, but she had kept up, no 
matter how fast they went.  Yes, she had, adding her own line of 
melody to the song with each weapon she sent whistling towards its 
target.  Even when they'd blindfolded her, she'd kept pace with the 
dance, learning that all she had to do was feel for the target, to 
aim for the sound...

<Aim for the sound!>

The young warrior swept her arm in an arc too blindingly fast for 
the eyes of the assembled Amazons to follow.  A burst of bright 
light, a shriek of green power, and the spatula-shaped ki-blast 
struck the mechanical dragon square in the body, shearing through 
its metal hull and out the other side.  The music abruptly became 
a gargled squeak, then ground to a halt altogether.

Ling Ling and Lung Lung craned their necks to look at the damage 
inflicted on their dragon, stupefied looks on their round faces.  
Ukyou had no intention of giving them time to start their 
fire-spitting toy again - she knew she had to take it out quickly.  
She leaped towards her enemy, heart thundering in her chest, 
prepared to rain down a storm of blows upon the green mechanical 
abomination.

A battle cry surged in her throat as she descended.  At some level, 
where her rational mind still held sway, she knew she'd better not 
shout the name of the technique, as Ranma did - the Amazons had 
enough reason to hate her without knowing that she, too, had 
mastered one of their secret techniques.  So instead, she simply 
blurted out the first alternate which popped into her head as her 
fists began to fly in a screeching blur:

"HUNKA-HUNKA BUNCHA-PUNCHES!"

<Boy, THAT needs some work,> the rational fragment of her 
consciousness observed with chagrin, but it was a dim and quiet 
voice against the storm in her mind.  She didn't really care what 
she'd said, not now, with the sweet fires of battle turning her 
every nerve into a filament of white-hot glory.  Her fists streaked 
towards the hull of the mechanical dragon, buckling and twisting 
the thin armor with each strike.  The thing let out a twisted 
screech, jets of smoke writhing forth from the multitude of cracks 
where its shell had been breached.

Ling Ling and Lung Lung yelped in terror and scuttled away.  Ukyou 
took the hint, reversing her momentum the moment her feet touched 
the ground and vaulting back away from the wounded dragon with the 
grace of a tigress.  

Moments later, the ugly metal thing exploded in a tremendous 
fireball.

Ukyou shielded herself against the chaotic mess of debris from the 
detonation of the tin-plated monster.  She was rather surprised to 
see amongst the shrapnel a charred and smoking stereo tape player 
tumbling across the turf, a thin slit roughly the width of a 
throwing spatula burned through the center of it.  She let out 
a bark of derisive laughter.

Ling Ling and Lung Lung struggled to their feet, faces and clothes 
smudged with mud and black ash.  They raised their weapons and faced 
their foe.

Ukyou pulled slowly out of the defensive crouch she'd assumed to 
protect herself from the explosion, standing straight and proud.  
She turned her gaze towards the two Chinese girls, her battle aura 
hitting them like a cannon blast.  The Amazons flinched back, 
uncertainty in their eyes, and made weak threatening gestures with 
their weapons.

Kuonji Ukyou had never felt so strong in her life, so sharp and so 
very alive.  All her training, her hard work and sweat and 
frustration and pain, all of it snapped together in a perfect 
fit now, creating an immaculate whole that shone like a star in 
this place, this moment.  She was cloaked in an armor of confidence 
and bright, controlled rage.  Every muscle was taught as a piano 
wire, every sense as keen as a splinter of glass.  She was flying 
at a totally new altitude, soaring in a zone of awareness she'd 
never imagined existed.

<My God,> she thought with wonder.  <Is this what they feel?  Ranma 
and Ryouga?  Is this what it's like for them when they go into 
battle?  It must be... it must be...>

But not every time she fought, she realized.  This was a state of 
battle fury reserved only for the most serious of struggles.  She'd 
tasted it before, when she'd fought the Reikoku in the forest, but 
now she commanded it rather than being caught in its grasp.  Still, 
this amazing state of mind was strictly overkill for this 
situation.  For a pair of mediocre fighters like these two shrimpy 
bullies, she wouldn't need it.  She could defeat them with ease.

They knew it, too.  Victory was an attitude, a frame of mind.  Ling 
Ling and Lung Lung looked upon their adversary and knew they were 
defeated.  The beating that would follow was nothing more than a 
formality.

Nothing is ever so easy, though, where Amazons are concerned.

"Lying Girl may think she won..." Ling Ling said.

"...but she be sorry for this later!" her sister promised.

Ukyou gnashed her teeth in frustration.  "Oh yeah, that's right.  
Your stupid Kiss of Death."

The two girls were a bit taken aback that Ukyou knew about their 
tradition.  Murmurs rose from the assembled crowd.

"Oh sure,  I know all about it," Ukyou informed them, letting her 
gaze wander towards the women in the audience.  "And believe me, I'm 
glad I'm not a man, that's for sure!"

Ling Ling knit her eyebrows in anger.  "We hunt Lying Girl to ends 
of earth for revenge!"

Lung Lung nodded.  "Amazon womans never fail to kill obstacles like 
Lying..."

Ukyou whirled back to her foes, her voice cracking like a rawhide 
whip.  "So maybe I should just kill you two right NOW!"

Ling Ling and Lung Lung flinched back, eyes widening in fear.  

"But then I'm sure it'd fall to one of your sisters to avenge you," 
Ukyou snarled, jabbing her finger towards the crowd.  "Am I right?  
You Amazons just won't play the game unless you can stack the deck!"

The okonomiyaki warrior regarded the sea of grim faces around her 
with growing exasperation and rage.  "You think I'm scared of YOU?  
You think you're going to hunt ME to the ends of the earth?  Well I 
have a news flash for you... you're gonna have to take a goddamned 
number!  I'm already being hunted by the REIKOKU, you hear me?"

Watching the impact of her words upon the crowd was rather like 
watching the ripples spread from a handful of pebbles cast into a 
still pond.  Only a few of the older women in the audience knew the 
creature she had named, but the extremity of their reactions had an 
immediate impact on the girls around them.  Shock, disbelief, and 
horror seeped through the assembled onlookers in slow waves.

"That's right," Ukyou addressed them, nodding.  "That's right.  Now 
you understand.  Now you see why I'm not afraid of a couple snotty 
little brats like you," she said as she turned her attention back to 
Ling Ling and Lung Lung.  "So come on, you twerps.  Let's finish 
this."  She tightened her fists.  "I promise you, you'll be giving 
your kisses with bloody lips!"

A new voice, familiar and unexpected, cut through the babble of the 
crowd like a sword thrust.  "ENOUGH!  ENOUGH, I SAY!"

The throng parted and all faces turned.  Ukyou gasped in surprise 
along with the rest.  The old woman balanced on the staff was 
smaller in stature than anyone present, but the aura of authority 
she projected was absolute.  Cologne, matriarch of the Amazons, had 
come home.

"This fight must not finish," she commanded, hopping forward until 
she was positioned between Ukyou and her adversaries.  "Enough 
foolishness has been wrought today without making matters even 
worse.  This match is a draw, do you understand?"

Ukyou raised her hands, palms outward.  "Fine by me, ma'am." 

The Amazon girls looked offended.  "But Elder!  She... she..."

The venerable warrior flicked a glance towards the smoldering 
remains of the mechanical dragon.  "Ling Ling, Lung Lung, don't 
tell me you've been using that ridiculous trick again?"

The two girls looked sheepish.  Ukyou spoke up.  "Some ancient 
technique!  So did the gods give you that boom-box, or what?"

"The original technique employed a spring-wound music box, my girl," 
Cologne explained.  "These two simply adapted it.  A radio does 
play for much longer.  Rather enterprising of them, wouldn't you 
say?"

Ukyou fidgeted.  "Uh..."

"Nevertheless, it makes a poor substitute for real martial arts 
skill," the matriarch observed dryly.  "And an expensive one, isn't 
it?  How long did you girls have to work to replace the last dragon 
you destroyed?"

The two soot-caked Amazons flushed with embarrassment.  "But we 
was..."

"Never mind, never mind.  Off you go now, children," she instructed, 
a kind undertone in her voice.  "All of you, go on.  I must speak 
with this girl for a while."

"Elder!" one of the Amazons in the crowd cried.  "She said she 
was..."

"Yes, yes, the Reikoku," Cologne said reassuringly.  "I know all 
about it.  Let me get her story and I'll speak to you all in time.  
Now leave us be."

Ukyou watched with profound relief as the crowd dispersed.  "I'm 
glad to see you, ma'am," she said sincerely.  "Is... Shampoo here?"

"Right over there, dear."

"What, behind the bald girl?"

"She is the bald girl."

Ukyou's jaw dropped.  Some of the other Amazons had also noticed 
that their wayward sister had returned sans hair - their reactions 
were even more extreme than Ukyou's.  Shampoo stood beside a large 
number of packs and traveling bags, stoically ignoring everyone with 
her head bowed.  "What... what happened to her?" Ukyou asked.

"Never mind that for now."  Cologne's tone was strong and 
authoritative, drawing Ukyou's attention away from Shampoo.  "Best 
if you tell me what you're doing here.  Where's the gr... Ranma.  
Is he hear?"

Ukyou was immediately curious as to why the old woman had caught 
herself like that, but she figured that now was not the time to 
press the issue.  "No, he isn't. He's... he's leading the Reikoku 
away.  Ryouga got hurt, so we had to... had to..."

Cologne nodded as Ukyou trailed off.  "So that's how it is.  I see.  
How badly is the boy hurt?"

"I... I think he'll be okay, or that's what Ban Daidu said.  But she 
was awfully mad when she found out he was a guy."

Cologne raised her eyebrows.  "As opposed to a pig?"

"No... a girl," Ukyou revealed nervously.  "We went to Jusenkyou, 
see, but things went wrong and Ryouga got splashed, so now he..."

"Hmm," the old woman sighed.  "So you went looking for a cure.  
Jusenkyou is notoriously miserly with its cures, my dear.  Now it's 
clear to me why everyone's so riled up."

"I didn't know you had two kinds of healers," Ukyou explained 
defensively.

"Well, it is an old law," the matriarch told her.  "There are 
taboos about certain kinds of intimate contact between women and 
men who are unmarried, taboos which a healer has no choice but to 
violate in the course of her duty.  Several hundred years ago, it 
became increasingly popular with the young men to feign injury, or 
even deliberately sustain a small hurt, so the pretty healer of 
that day might need to give them a bit of attention.  She was a bit 
of a pushover, I hear.  Thus, the law was passed."

"I see."

"Ah, well.  Like so many of the old laws, the girls today don't 
understand it very well.  It is a hard thing to realize that by 
obeying the letter of a law you often betray its intent."  Her gaze 
strayed momentarily towards Shampoo.  "A very hard lesson, 
sometimes, but an important one."

Ukyou's eyes widened.  "Do you mean...?"

"Never mind that," Cologne interrupted.  "I shall deal with Ban 
Daidu.  She's letting things get blown out of proportion.  Though 
you would have done well to be honest from the start, girl.  Best 
you remember that."

"Yes ma'am," Ukyou said meekly.  "But... but they're also mad 
because he knows the bakusai ten-ketsu.  And now they know about 
the Reikoku..."

Cologne nodded.  "Yes, yes.  I see lots of things will have to be 
cleared up.  But you must tell me now, girl.  What happened in 
Jusenkyou?  I see in your eyes that it was something horrible."

"It was... Pantyhose Tarou," Ukyou answered reluctantly, a chill 
passing through her as she said the name.  "He was the one who hurt 
Ryouga."

The venerable warrior drew a sharp breath.  "That renegade?  Why 
was HE involved?"

"He fought the Reikoku too," Ukyou told her.  "So he was being 
chased, just like the rest of us.  Except he had his own plan to 
deal with it.  He went and made a Spring of the Drowned Reikoku, 
and he poured the water onto himself, and..."

For the first time, the Amazon matriarch looked genuinely shaken.  
"He WHAT?" she gasped.

"But... but it killed him," Ukyou whispered, her throat 
constricting.  "I think it drove him mad when he changed, and then 
the Reikoku woke up and hit him with hot water, and he fought it 
but... but..."  A tear trickled down her cheek as the memories of 
Tarou's screams came back to her, echoing in her ears.

Cologne squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head slowly.  "That 
fool.  That selfish fool.  My girl, remember this always:  there 
is no creature in the world more dangerous than a man of 
ambition."

"He's dead," Ukyou muttered, wiping her eyes.

"Yes," Cologne agreed, "but that spring he created is a blight which 
will haunt all generations to come.  Such folly.  Such mad, black 
folly."

"I'm sorry," Ukyou sniffled.

The old woman seemed to shed some of her gloom.  "I doubt there was 
much you could have done.  Still, it is interesting that young 
Ryouga would be inflicted with a new curse.  I wonder why?"

Ukyou shrugged, forcing herself to try to forget the haunting sights 
and sounds of her visit to Jusenkyou.  "It was an accident."

"In my experience, there are no true accidents, especially in 
Jusenkyou.  Well, in any case, I had best go check on your friend 
and see to his recovery.  Ban Daidu is competent enough, but I 
prefer to look for myself."

"But your laws," Ukyou protested.  "I thought only men could..."

Cologne waved her concerns aside.  "Bah.  I'm too old to worry 
about some silly taboos.  Besides, a woman my age shouldn't pass 
up any chance to cop a feel."

Ukyou recoiled, color draining from her face.

"Wa ha ha ha!" the old woman cackled.  "Only fooling, my dear."

The okonomiyaki chef laughed weakly.  "Yeah... heh heh.  Of course.  
For a second there you sounded like Happosai."

"Mm.  Happy.  Yes." The matriarch looked thoughtful.  "There is much 
to discuss, girl.  There will be a council tonight marking my 
return.  You shall want to attend."  With that, the ancient warrior 
pivoted on her staff and hopped away.


- - - - - - 



                    end of part eleven...

-----------------------------------------------------------
                      AUTHOR'S NOTES
-----------------------------------------------------------

Whee!  Longest chapter yet.  This one was a challenge to do,
coming down off the dramatic high from Chapter 10 into a more
transitional period.  One of my friends suggested to me that I
try writing on paper as opposed to on the computer, as a strategy
to circumvent writer's block.  It actually worked quite well.
But does the style seem different now?  Hmm.

Anyway, time to give my thanks to those of you who've given
me consistent C&C and encouragement for this story.  My thanks
to Alan Harnum, Jed Bidwell, Mike Loader, RpM, and Bob Macfie
for your consistent commentary and words of encouragement.  My
thanks to "Mahoueyes," who is as relentless as the Reikoku in
her desire to see the next chapter.  And many thanks to Gary
Kleppe, who never fails to offer excellent insights into the 
story.  There are a lot of other folks out there who have been
generous in their commentary ... if I missed you, it doesn't mean
I haven't appreciated you.

Also, my thanks to those of you who pointed out that Pink and
Link are not actually Amazons.  I had some problems deciding if
I wanted to use them as opposed to Ling/Lung for the foes against
whom Ukyou would test herself this chapter, but it seems I've
made the right call.  Besides, Pink and Link are legitimately
dangerous foes, while Ling/Lung are pretty much joke characters.
Ukyou's better off this way.

Points to those of you who can provide the last line of Genma's
poem.  I know a lot of you recognize Nabiki's bit of verse.

I don't know of dessert okonomiyaki or some variant actually 
exists in Japan - it was a dish my wife and I decided to try out
a couple of times, though.  Not bad, really.  The peanut-butter
and banana one is my favorite. 

I'm going to try to give descriptions of the more obscure Ranma 1/2 
characters who appear in this story. So...

LING LING and LUNG LUNG:  These two pipsqueaks made their first 
appearance in one of the second season Ranma anime shows, coming 
from the Amazon village to check up on Shampoo's progress in the 
whole killing-Ranma project (and getting into a fight with Ranma, 
of course).  I understand that they have made return appearances 
in the anime, though I haven't seen any of those programs.  I'm 
assuming that they are still governed by the same basic character 
traits - they're annoying, somewhat belligerent, and their fighting 
techniques are basically stupid.  


COMING SOON:  Ranma has some new techniques to test out... but why
do the effects of the Neko-ken seem to be lingering?  Ukyou and 
Ryouga face the judgement of the Amazon council, Akane works her
way through the Chinese countryside, and Konatsu comes face to face
with one of the more terrifying presences in all of Nerima!  All
this and more in Chapter 12...

COPYRIGHT STUFF:  All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi 
Rumiko,and are licensed in America by Viz Communications.    

GRT - January 2000
grayson@rigroup.net

All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless



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