Continuing on. C&C is welcome, invited, and appreciated.

- Grayson Towler
http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless

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

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


-----------------------------------------------------------
                     CHAPTER TWELVE:
                         Counsel 
-----------------------------------------------------------

Ukyou was shown to her place by a kindly-faced older woman, 
which was a relief after the day of naked contempt and 
hostility she'd endured from the Amazons.  This evening's 
council marked the return of the village Matriarch, but it 
was hardly a joyous atmosphere.  They were gathered to decide 
how to deal with both her and Ryouga, and Ukyou knew that she 
did not have many friends to speak on her behalf.

According to tradition, the council sessions took place 
outdoors around an open fire.  The women of the village who 
had been chosen to speak arranged themselves on the warm sand 
in a semicircle around the simple wooden stool upon which the 
Matriarch would be seated when she arrived.  Ukyou sat on a 
blanket in the second perimeter, compromised of a larger ring 
of onlookers who were there to observe but not speak.  She'd 
been given a wide space of her own away from any of the 
others - she knew better than to assume that was a gesture 
of respect.

The okonomiyaki chef sighed and tried to get comfortable.  
She didn't think that she'd get much out of this whole affair - 
it seemed highly unlikely that the Amazons would hold their 
council in Japanese for her benefit.  Assuredly, they would 
tell her the verdict when it was over. 

She glanced around as the crowd assembled, looking for 
familiar faces.  She wondered if Shampoo would be here; she 
was desperately curious to find out what had happened to her 
rival.  As she craned her neck and peered into the gloom, she 
caught sight of a pair of figures emerging from the darkness 
into the orange circle of firelight.  The glimmering light 
flickered off the glass lenses on the face of one of the 
approaching forms - that was Mousse, no question.  But the 
other...

"Ryouga?" she gasped, rising halfway to her feet.  "RYOUGA!"

The customary bandanna was replaced by a pale bandage wrap 
and he leaned on Mousse for support, but in spite of all 
that, the Lost Boy looked better than Ukyou had dared to 
hope.  The urge to leap up and hug him was almost 
irresistible, though she knew she should probably be gentle 
with him.  Instead, she cupped his cheek in her hand and 
beamed like a child.

"Hey, sugar," she said in a choked voice.  "How are you 
feeling?"

Ryouga smiled, his face seeming unusually red in the glow of 
the fire.  "Uh... okay, I guess," he muttered.  "I had a 
dream that dinosaurs were playing soccer with my head."

The long-haired girl laughed.  "What kind of dinosaurs?"

"Big ones," Ryouga asserted grimly.

Ukyou squeezed his hand and smiled with delight.  She spared 
a look away from her companion towards the Chinese boy.  
"How's it going, Mousse?"

"I'm glad to see you're alive," Mousse said.  "It's too bad 
you got sucked into Saotome's troubles."

Ukyou shrugged, preferring not to drag that issue out right 
now.  Mousse's rivalry with Ranma wasn't her business.  
Mousse seemed to sense her ambivalence and fidgeted with 
his glasses.

"Anyway," he said, "I'm here to translate for you."

Ukyou gave a little bow of her head.  "Thank you.  C'mon, 
let's sit down."

She watched Mousse's glance shift to the left as they settled 
Ryouga onto the blanket.  Ukyou followed his gaze, and wasn't 
surprised to see Shampoo taking a seat not far away in the 
ring of spectators.  The slender girl flashed a look their 
way, but not a long one.  She seemed far more grave and 
somber than the sly, confident vixen Ukyou had come to know 
a lifetime ago, back in Nerima.  <I wonder if I look different 
now, too.>

"What are we doing here?" Ryouga asked in a low voice.  
"Where's Ranma?"

Ukyou turned back to her friend.  "They haven't told you a 
thing, have they?  Ranma led the Reikoku away so we could get 
you here.  You were really hurt, sugar."

Ryouga clenched his fist in frustration, but didn't have the 
energy for much more than that.  "Tarou?"

"Dead," Ukyou said quietly.  

Ryouga let out a heavy sigh.  "That fool.  Damn it all."

The low murmur of the crowd began to fade into silence.  
Cologne entered the semicircle of women, her diminutive body 
framed by the glow of the firelight.  "They're starting," 
Mousse informed them.  

"So what are they going to be talking about?" Ryouga asked.

"You, mostly," Mousse said dryly.

"Me?"

Ukyou leaned close to whisper in his ear.  "We aren't real 
popular right now, sweetheart.  I kinda got into a fight, 
and... there's some other stuff.  Amazon laws and all."

Ryouga blanched.  "You're not engaged to anyone now, are 
you?"

"No, nothing like that."

He thought about that for a couple seconds.  "Am I?"

Ukyou grinned.  "I don't think so.  I'll explain later."

"I should warn you," Mousse said, "they tend to get kind 
of... demonstrative in these councils.  It can be pretty 
surprising if you've never seen it before."

The women surrounding Cologne waited silently on the soft 
sands, their stoic faces all but immobile save for the dance 
of red-orange light in their dark eyes.  The matriarch 
regarded each of the Amazons around her with an appraising 
gaze, her eyes lingering momentarily on Ban Daidu.  All was 
silent in the village square save for the low music of the 
late autumn wind through the stones of the canyon walls and 
the erratic crackles and pops from the great bonfire.

Finally, Cologne spoke, her stately voice strong in the 
night.  "She's asking them what they think needs to be done 
about you," Mousse whispered.

The women of the Amazon council leaped to their feet as one, 
voices raised in a cacophony of indignant shrieks and 
bellows.  Ukyou's eyes bulged in surprise as she watched the 
frantic gesticulations of the council members - one grabbed 
her own throat and made gagging noises, another pantomimed 
holding an invisible foe and throwing a flurry of punches to 
her face, and yet another jumped up and down pounding the 
sands and screeching like an angry chimpanzee.  Two Amazons 
produced a suspiciously familiar-looking straw doll with 
long black hair tied in a white bow, and proceeded to kick 
the stuffing out of it.

"Er..." Mousse began.  "What they're saying is..."

"I think I can guess," Ukyou whimpered.

The manic production ended as abruptly as it had begun.  The 
council resumed their seats around a bemused-looking Cologne. 
The ancient warrior began to speak again in the same calm 
tones she'd used before.

"She's asking for specific complaints," Mousse translated.  
"I think she's going to start with Ban Daidu."

The healer slowly rose to her feet, meticulously straightening 
her robes and brushing the stray grains of sand off the 
bright fabric.  She stood straight, flashing a brief, 
vitriolic glare towards Ukyou, and took a deep breath.  
Then, she grabbed her hair with both hands, yanking and 
pulling in a frenzy as she rolled her eyes and made a bizarre 
gurgling noise.  Ban Daidu tossed her head and spun around 
in a circle, faster and faster until she toppled over 
backwards foaming at the mouth, her legs twitching in the 
air.

"Is this normal?" Ukyou asked in astonishment.

Mousse nodded.  "Pretty much so, yes."

"Geez."

Ban Daidu picked herself up off the sand, fixed her clothing 
once more, and settled back into her place.  Cologne waited 
patiently for the healer to return to her seat, then began 
to address the council once more.

"What's she saying?" Ukyou asked.

"She's basically telling Ban Daidu to let it slide," Mousse 
responded.  "You were wrong, but Ryouga needed help no matter 
if he's a man or a woman."

Ukyou glanced over at Ryouga, wondering if he'd been told 
about his new curse yet.  She didn't want him to learn about 
it right now - he had a tendency to overreact to things, and 
now would not be a good time for one of his explosions.  But 
Ryouga's head was slumped forward, his chin touching his 
chest, and his eyes were closed.  

The okonomiyaki chef reached over and shook her friend 
gently.  "Hey," she whispered. "This is important, sugar!  
You wanna pay attention?"

Ryouga smacked his lips, let out a little sigh, then collapsed 
with his head in Ukyou's lap.  She let out a little squeak 
of surprise.  "H... hey!  What're you doing, you clod?"

The Lost Boy simply snuggled into a comfortable position and 
snored.

Ukyou felt the heat rise in her face, but she resisted the 
urge to belt Ryouga for taking such a liberty.  He was too 
hurt and too tired for that.  Gingerly, she unclenched her 
fists and lowered her hands, resting them lightly on her 
friend's shoulders.

A small smile crept across her features.  <Let the poor guy 
sleep,> she told herself.  <Yesterday, you weren't even sure 
if he was going to live.>

Mousse cleared his throat, calling her attention away from 
her slumbering friend.  The bespectacled martial artist 
gestured towards the campfire again.

The women of the council were up and thrashing about once 
more.  This time, they seemed to be feigning various 
reactions of terror.  Several of them were doing disturbingly 
accurate animal impersonations - one bleated like a frightened 
goat with her fingers pointing as horns above her head, 
another flapped her arms and squawked like a chicken, while 
a third reared like a horse and tossed her head frantically.  
Ukyou wasn't sure if the one squatting on her haunches and 
tossing sand was imitating a monkey or simply being creative 
in her display.

"They're talking about the Reikoku," Mousse explained.  
"They're worried that someone will get hurt if it comes here 
to find you.  And the animals will panic."

Ukyou fiddled with Ryouga's hair nervously.  That was a valid 
point, especially the bit about the animals.  As much as she 
trusted Ranma to handle things, she couldn't deny that she 
and Ryouga endangered the village by their very presence here.

Cologne waited for the fervor of the council to abate before 
speaking.  "She's saying that it will be easy to see the 
Reikoku coming well in advance and clear it a path to you, 
so nobody gets hurt," Mousse translated.

That felt a bit callous, but Ukyou knew better than to hope 
the Amazons would protect her from that monster.  On the 
balance, she couldn't blame them.  That was too much to ask 
from anyone.

Mousse listened to the Matriarch's voice, a grimace of 
distaste settling across his features.  "She's also telling 
them that she's confident in Saotome's ability to keep the 
Reikoku busy."  He frowned.  "Laying it on a bit thick, I'd 
say.  She shouldn't have to fawn over him like that anymore."

"I have faith in him too," Ukyou told him seriously.

He gave her a look of suppressed  exasperation.  "Pfeh," he 
snorted.  "Look where that's gotten you."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" she shot back angrily, but 
she was pretty sure she understood him perfectly.

Mousse started to say something, then stopped himself, 
looking thoughtful.  "You know, I don't have much reason 
to hate Saotome Ranma anymore," he said.

Ukyou blinked in surprise.  "Wh... why not?"

Mousse shrugged.  "The old ghoul is right about what she's 
saying about him, how good a fighter he is.  Better than me. 
Better than I'll ever be, probably."  The lenses hiding his 
eyes glimmered orange and yellow in the light of the 
flames.

"Mousse..?"

"But I don't care about that anymore," the Chinese boy 
continued.  "Because I understand something now.  Saotome 
Ranma is a jinx.  Misfortune follows him everywhere he 
goes, and those who are closest to him are the ones that 
suffer the most."

"That's ridiculous!" Ukyou snapped.

"Maybe he doesn't mean it," Mousse said.  "But does that 
matter?  Look at yourself and Ryouga.  Look at what Shampoo 
has suffered because of him.  What I have endured.  Can you 
really say that I'm wrong?"

The young chef gave him a mixed look of irritation and 
bewilderment.  "Look, Mousse, just because... I mean, I 
don't think you can say..." 

She trailed off.  She didn't believe what the Chinese boy 
had said, but she couldn't frame a good argument against 
him.  "Oh, just forget it," she grumbled.  "Just tell me 
what they're talking about now, okay?"

"Oh... uh, yes.  Sorry."  Mousse turned his attention back 
to the council and followed the exchanges between the Amazon 
women for a moment.  "They're talking about the techniques 
you've learned.  Accusing Cologne of betraying the tribe, 
that sort of thing."

That explained the contortionist pantomimes that some of the 
Amazons were performing - evidently, they wished to convey 
the idea of backstabbing in the most literal manner possible.  
Ukyou twirled her finger in Ryouga's bangs and tried not to 
look unsettled as Cologne began to speak once more.

Mousse seemed quite intrigued by the old woman's words.  
"Teaching our techniques to outsiders is actually a very old 
tradition.  Lots of precedent.  Huh.  I had no idea."

"Then how come they're so angry?"

Mousse scratched his chin.  "She says that it's her judgement 
that the most recent generations of Amazon warriors have 
grown complacent in their martial arts, dangerously close 
to the point of stagnation.  The younger girls do not strive 
hard in their training.  They resort to lazy shortcuts and 
sloppy form.  There's not as much competition in this day 
and age, so the Amazons are at risk of losing their fighting 
edge."

Ukyou noted, with no small degree of satisfaction, that many 
of the girls who'd harassed her earlier looked distinctively 
uncomfortable under Cologne's upbraiding.  Ling Ling and Lung 
Lung flinched noticeably.

"She says that the current generation is especially 
disappointing," Mousse continued.  "Only Shampoo shows the 
old spirit and has mastered some of the higher techniques, 
with her studies of herbalism, acupressure, and Martial 
Arts Takeout."

Ukyou felt the urge to smirk at that last one, but it quickly 
subsided.  Someone who'd based their entire fighting style 
on okonomiyaki cooking didn't have much room to laugh.  
"Hey," she said to Mousse.  "What about you?"

Mousse turned to her, puzzled.  "Me?"

"That Hidden Weapons stuff," Ukyou elaborated.  "That's gotta 
be a 'higher technique,' right?"

Mousse rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek.  
"Actually, that's not an Amazon technique," he informed her.  
"It's Chinese Black Magic.  I was deemed unfit for advanced 
teaching, so I had to look... elsewhere.  It didn't go over 
very well around here."

Ukyou couldn't quite think of how to respond to that.  "Oh," 
she managed.

The long-haired boy turned back towards the council.  "By 
teaching outsiders," he said, picking up on the thread of 
discussion again, "she says that the techniques of the 
Amazons will be preserved, sometimes even improved.  The 
tribe will gain allies upon whom it can call in times of 
need.  And the girls of this generation will learn humility, 
and have to travel to the outside to advance their training.  
The pact of teaching prohibits outsiders from abusing the 
knowledge they have gained."

"What pact?"

Mousse shrugged.  "I don't know.  Maybe you should ask 
Ryouga."

The Lost Boy let out a soft snore.

"Maybe later," Ukyou decided.

The Amazons grumbled irritably at Cologne's explanations.  
They did not seem particularly placated by the Matriarch's 
words - if anything, it appeared as if their irritation had 
deepened.  <Great... as if they weren't pissed enough, now 
they get told they're all a bunch of lazy slackers.  Are we 
going to get out of here alive?>

"She's about to ask them what they wish to do about you," 
Mousse informed her.  Ukyou's muscles tensed as she strained 
forward.  "She asks if they wish to decide on a punishment 
for your transgressions..."

The old woman paused in her oration, surveying the expectant 
council as they twitched in anticipation.  The hint of a 
mischievous smile played across Cologne's withered features.

"Or," Mousse translated, "they can choose to help you in your 
mission to find and punish Happosai."

The Amazons literally rocked back upon hearing Cologne's 
words, all eyes widening in shock.  The old matriarch sat 
quietly on her stool, nonchalantly examining her 
fingernails.

Suddenly, the council erupted in cheers and jubilation.  Two 
Amazons hefted the battered effigy of Ukyou onto their 
shoulders and paraded it triumphantly around the bonfire 
while the others cheered and hurled festive streamers into 
the air.  Ban Daidu twirled a pair of red pinwheels above 
her head and beamed at Ukyou.  Several fireworks exploded 
in the night sky.

"Wha... what... what the...?" Ukyou stammered, utterly 
flummoxed.

"It seems they hate Happosai a whole lot worse than they hate 
you," Mousse explained.  "He has something of a history in 
this village."

"Well... why didn't she just TELL them that in the first 
place?" Ukyou demanded.

Mousse leaned close, dropping his voice to a low whisper.  
"Because she's an evil old mummy who delights in nothing 
more than the cruel torment of the liv...AAACK!"

Cologne's wooden stool smacked into the side of Mousse's 
head at an impressive velocity.  Ukyou pulled away 
reflexively as the bespectacled boy went down like a sack 
of potatoes.

<So much for our translator,> she thought.  

The council members watched impassively as Mousse toppled.  
Ukyou saw Shampoo rise smoothly to her feet and cross the 
sands until she reached her fallen friend.  She peeled the 
stool from Mousse's skull, brought it back to Cologne, and 
waited patiently along with the rest of the council for the 
elderly warrior to settle herself back into place.  The bald 
girl backed away, and the women resumed their discussion.

To Ukyou's surprise, Shampoo did not return to her former 
place, but instead settled down beside Ukyou.  The violet-eyed 
Amazon sat with ramrod-straight posture, looking directly 
ahead as she spoke.  "Shampoo translate for you now," she 
said softly.

"Uh... thanks," Ukyou replied uncertainly.

"They talking about how to help you," the Amazon girl said 
stoically.

"Yeah?" Ukyou said.  She was really a lot more curious about 
what had happened to Shampoo than what the council women were 
saying, now that opinions had turned in their favor.  But it 
was her impression that it was something very important and 
embarrassing, so she decided to restrain herself from 
questioning her rival.

That resolve held strong for roughly three seconds.

"So what happened to you?" she blurted out.

Shampoo's lips twitched and she remained silent for a 
moment.  "Ban Daidu say that Ryouga can travel maybe 
tomorrow.  Is good, yes?"

"Come on!" the young chef insisted.  "What happened?  Why'd 
you come back?  How come you shaved your head?"

The lovely Amazon closed her eyes and bowed her head 
slightly.  Ukyou watched her intently as Shampoo composed 
her thoughts, breathing evenly and deliberately through her 
nose.  Finally, the young Chinese warrior tilted her head 
back and opened her eyes, watching the glittering stars 
mingle with the tiny orange embers that swirled upwards on 
heat currents from the flames from which they'd been born, 
each dying slowly in the late autumn sky.  Shampoo spoke in 
a soft, flat voice, tinged with melancholy.

"Best listen to good advice," she said.  "Ranma not going to 
marry you, Ukyou-san."

Ukyou was almost as surprised to hear the Amazon girl call 
her by name - respectfully, no less - as she was by Shampoo's 
declaration.  "What makes you so sure of THAT, huh?  You 
think Ranchan's got a thing for bald chicks, is that it?"

"Ranma not Shampoo's husband now," the Chinese girl said 
softly.  "Not anymore."

"Sh... Shampoo?"

The edges of her rival's eyes glimmered with wetness in the 
firelight.  "Ukyou-san listen now.  Shampoo bears much, much 
shame.  It will be long time before Shampoo can grow hair 
back, be warrior again."

"What does that mean?" Ukyou whispered.

"Lost.  Disgraced.  Shamed."  Shampoo pronounced each word 
distinctly, bitterly.  "Ranma belong now to Akane-san."

"No," Ukyou insisted, but her voice trembled.

Shampoo turned to look at her with a smile that was almost 
warm.  "Ukyou-san save herself lots and lots of trouble.  
See what happened to Shampoo and learn."

"But... but I..." Ukyou began, trying to be angry at 
Shampoo's words but failing to tear through the cottony 
strands of her own confusion.

The Amazon girl gestured towards the council.  "They finish 
now," she said.  "Tell you plan tomorrow.  Maybe help you 
find Happosai, they say."  With that, she rose quickly and 
trotted across the sands to attend her great-grandmother.  

Ukyou tried to rise and pursue Shampoo, her mind whirling 
with questions, but Ryouga's head in her lap held her down.  
She watched helplessly as the Amazon girl disappeared, 
moving out of the light of the dwindling flames until the 
darkness enveloped her completely.

- - - - - -	

Kurumi turned from the mirror and spread her arms, presenting 
herself.  "So what do you think?  Indiana Kurumi!"

Nabiki and Natsume regarded the small girl in the beige 
fedora and shook their heads in unison.  "I don't think 
you'll be able to get away with wearing that in school," 
Nabiki said.

"And you look silly," Natsume added.

Kurumi pouted at them for a moment, but she tossed the hat 
aside.  Her scalp was shaved almost to the skin, with only a 
fine haze of soft fuzz remaining of her bouncy hair.  They'd 
been forced to shave it even closer to the skin in order to 
eradicate Principal Kunou's pineapple engravings.  Right now, 
they were trying to devise some solution so the poor girl 
wouldn't have to be too embarrassed until her hair grew 
back.

She hadn't liked any of the wigs they'd tried, so now they 
were down to hats.  Kurumi snatched up a baseball cap, 
plopped it onto her head with the bill pointing off at a 
weird angle, and adopted a crossed-arms rapper's stance.  
"Yo!  Check it out - M.C. Kurumi!"

"Please don't," Natsume said flatly.

"Pfeh! You're no fun," she griped.  "We're almost out of 
hats."

"What about that bonnet?" Natsume asked.

Kurumi glared at her.  "Oh, puke!   I'd rather go bald."

"Um, excuse me?" came a voice from the open door.  Saotome 
Genma poked his head into the girls' room.  "Dinner is about 
ready, and..."

"Hey!" Kurumi exclaimed.  "Why didn't I think of it before?"  
She reached down and snatched a white handkerchief from the 
scattered piles of clothing strewn across the bed.  The young 
girl wrapped the cloth around her head and then hopped up on 
Genma's broad shoulder.  "See?  We match!"

"Hmm," Natsume hummed, considering.

"My, my," Nabiki purred.  "Aren't you two quite the pair?"

Genma flinched and began to sweat.  "Ha ha ha!  Er... yes, 
well..."

The two martial artists didn't seem to notice Genma's 
consternation.  "That's not so bad," Natsume decided.  "But 
come here for a second, sis."

The springy young fighter bounced down off Genma's shoulder 
and approached her sister.  Nabiki simply kept her gaze 
locked on the bespectacled man, until he finally blanched 
and scurried away.  "Right," she said softly to herself.

"There," Natsume announced.  "How's that?"

Nabiki turned to see what she'd done.  The plain white 
handkerchief around Kurumi's head was gone, replaced with 
a bright red-and-orange patterned silk scarf.  She regarded 
the small girl thoughtfully.  "I think that one isn't so 
bad," she said.

"Really?" Kurumi asked, a little doubtful.  

"Sure," Natsume assured her.  "It makes you look kind of 
like... Rimururu."

"Really?" Kurumi asked, her eyes twinkling.  "Oh wow!  Except 
my abilities are totally the opposite!  I could be, like, her 
distant cousin or something!  Or her long-lost twin!  How 
cool!  I can't wait to show Kasumi and father!"  She trotted 
happily out the door.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow at the long-haired martial artist.  
"Who does she look like?"

Natsume sighed.  "Never mind my sister.  She plays too many 
video games."

- - - - - -

The sound of the splitting wood was different enough to catch 
Ranma's attention, and that was when he made his discovery.

He knelt in front of the large stone, a pile of hand-chopped 
kindling off to his right, and examined the two halves of the 
last log he'd split.  Instead of the typical organic fissure 
running with the grain of the wood, this log looked as if it 
had been cloven in twain with the blade of a katana.  The 
wood along the cut was so smooth that Ranma could rub his 
fingers across it without the slightest danger of a splinter 
lodging in his skin.

Ranma had seen this before.  He'd seen it on the morning of 
the day they'd reached Jusenkyou, though he hadn't believed 
it to be his own handiwork.  More recently, though, he'd seen 
this kind of laser-precise cut on the timber he'd used to 
build the raft upon which he'd loaded the Reikoku's inert 
form.

<I was usin' the Neko-ken when I chopped up those trees,> he 
thought.  <But why'd it just happen now?>

He hadn't even been thinking about cats as he'd been 
preparing his firewood.  In fact, he realized upon reflection, 
he hadn't really been thinking about anything at all.  So 
why had it happened?  How had he done it?

"I gotta figure this out," he said aloud.  "If I did it 
once, I oughta be able to get it under control.  It's a 
matter of focusin' down my battle aura like an edge, right?  
Maybe visualizin' claws will do the trick..."

He realized he was talking to himself.  He sighed heavily and 
dropped into a sitting position.  There'd been times when 
he'd been frustrated with his traveling companions on this 
journey - Ryouga with his temper, his stubbornness, and his 
confounded sense of direction, Ukyou with her touchy emotions 
and her continuous attempts to get him to pay more attention 
to her.  Now, though, he missed them both with an intensity 
he'd have never predicted.  He'd always considered them both 
to be his friends, even Ryouga, but these months they'd spent 
together on the run in China had infused the bonds between 
them with a powerful, unspoken strength.  He realized they 
felt more like family now, and that realization made his 
loneliness all the more acute.

He tried to suppress the nagging fear that he would never 
see them again, but it haunted him nonetheless.  Did they 
miss him too?  Did Ryouga realize just how much Ranma had 
come to respect him now?  If Ranma had to choose one 
companion to walk through Hell with, it'd be Ryouga.  
He'd met more powerful fighters than the Lost Boy, but 
never another with the kind of pure guts and determination 
he'd seen in his friend... except when it came to girls, 
of course.

That made him think of Ukyou.  There was a problem he just 
didn't know how to solve, especially now.  He knew how she 
felt about him, as much as he pretended to ignore it.  It 
had been easier to brush her off before, back in Nerima, 
back when he could still convince himself that it was her 
responsibility to get a clue and figure out she was going 
nowhere with this whole fiancee thing.  If worse came to 
worst, if she had ever pushed the issue and couldn't deal 
with the fact that he wasn't ever going to marry her, then 
he knew he'd probably have lost her as a friend.  He'd been 
willing to accept that before, in the rare moments of 
introspection when he allowed himself to acknowledge the 
issue.

Now, though, it was much harder.  Ukyou went to the wall 
for him by coming here and taking on the Reikoku.  She'd 
pushed herself like a champion in their training and their 
travels - far from being a burden on the group, as he'd 
feared, she'd done much more than just pull her own weight.  
She'd shown him that she had more courage and strength than 
he'd ever given her credit for.  Ranma was still young, and 
he still found people to be pretty confusing most of the 
time, but even he knew that friends like Ukyou don't come 
along very often in a person's life.

But how could he keep her as a friend?  How could he get her 
to drop this whole marriage thing without making her hate 
him forever?  He didn't want that, not after all they'd done, 
all they'd survived.  There had to be a way...

<You ain't doin' no good by thinkin' about that stuff now,> 
he admonished himself.  <Focus on what you can control now, 
and stop gettin' all turned around about everything else.  
Right now, you gotta survive.  That means more trainin'.>

Ranma nodded to himself, then rose to his feet.  The first 
thing he had to do was figure out how the power of the 
Neko-ken kept creeping out when he wasn't actively using 
the technique.  He focused on that issue, forcing all other 
concerns out of his mind, and searched for some more wood to 
cut.

- - - - - - 

A late autumn frost had settled upon the Amazon village this 
morning, defining every curve and angle with a thin white 
mask.  Ukyou watched the vapor of her breath coalesce and 
dissipate before her.  Winter was coming, and the chill of 
frost settled into her heart as well as onto the grass, 
leaves, and huts around her.  Soon, the snows would fall 
and ice would coat the roads.  In winter, everything slowed 
down - drifts of snow blocked the roads, ice coated the 
waters, dangerous storms rose and kept the world indoors.  
Once the season was in full swing, you had to accept that it 
would take longer to get from one place to another.

They would be hindered, but the Reikoku would not.  The 
season was an ally to the beast which pursued them.  If they 
couldn't find some way to banish the creature forever, to 
make it stop hunting them, their chances of surviving the 
winter seemed ominously slim.  

<All the more reason to get moving,> Ukyou told herself 
sternly, forcing aside the gloom of her thoughts.  

It was a strange feeling to wrap her fingers around the 
well-worn grip of her battle spatula again.  Now that they 
were on the verge of leaving the Amazon village, Ukyou and 
Ryouga had finally gotten all their supplies and weapons 
back.  She'd thought it would feel good to be armed again, 
but now she wasn't so sure.  <I used this weapon when I 
fought the Reikoku,> she thought.  <It's bound to have come 
up with some sort of defense.  Should I even be carrying this 
thing around anymore?>

The great spatula, she realized, might be even worse than 
deadweight now.  That monster might not just have a 
defense - it might actually know how to turn the weapon 
against her in some way if she tried to use it again.  If 
it did come down to another fight with the Reikoku, she'd 
be better off throwing her spatulas aside.   <I took care of 
those two Amazon girls without it,> she told herself.  <Sure, 
they ain't exactly in the same class as the Reikoku, but 
I've been training so hard.  Maybe I don't need this weapon 
anymore.>

She reflected on this for a few moments, but in the end she 
shouldered the battle spatula and slung her bandolier around 
her torso.  These weapons might not do her any good against 
the Reikoku, but they were family treasures and it would be 
a pity to just leave them in the Amazon village.  They still 
might come in handy on the road.

"You about ready, sugar?" she called to Ryouga.  The Lost Boy 
was tying his bandanna back into place.

Her friend took a few moments to orient on her voice.  She 
suppressed a giggle - he was kind of touchy about his lousy 
sense of direction, but sometimes it just struck her as 
funny.  When he did finally locate her, he gave her a 
thumbs-up.  

"I'm ready," he said.

"You feel okay to travel?" she asked.  

He nodded.  "I wish that doctor would show up.  I never got 
a chance to thank her."

"Well... I'm sure she knows you appreciate it," Ukyou said.  
She didn't see any need to tell him about all the difficulties 
with Ban Daidu yet.

"Ready to go now, are you?" came a startling voice from 
directly behind Ukyou.  She nearly leaped out of her skin in 
surprise - she'd had no idea anybody was there.  As it was, 
she landed a half dozen meters away, in a defensive crouch.  

Cologne sat balanced on her gnarled staff, chuckling softly.  

"Geez, granny!  You scared the hell out of me!" Ukyou 
protested, her heart thundering.

"My, my," the old woman said.  "What impressive reflexes 
you've developed, my dear.  One might almost speculate that 
you've been training in some special way."

The young chef scratched the back of her neck nervously.  
"Uh..."

"Is this," Cologne asked, "somehow related to that 
extraordinary technique you used against Ling Ling and Lung 
Lung?  What was it they said you called it... the 
'Hunka-hunka Buncha-Punches?'  Yes, I think that was it."

"The what?" Ryouga spoke up.  He shot Ukyou a confused 
look.  "Did you learn some other technique besides that 
Amaguriken thing?"

Ukyou smacked him on the head.  "Moron!  Just blurt it out, 
why don't you?"

"What?  What did I say?"

"Don't blame the boy," Cologne said.  "I figured it out from 
the description of the fight, thank you.  So, Ranma has been 
training you, has he?"

"Yeah," Ukyou admitted.  "What else were we supposed to do?  
With that thing following us around..."

"Oh, I know, I know," Cologne assured her.  "Still... I 
wouldn't have thought you'd be able to master that 
technique.  You young people are full of surprises."

"Th... thanks, I guess," the long-haired girl stammered.  
"So you're not mad or anything?"

"No," the Amazon matriarch answered.  "But have you been 
told about the consequences of learning one of our 
techniques?"

"The consequences?"

The old woman turned to Ryouga.  "Well, boy?  Did you inform 
her of her responsibilities, now that she has trained in the 
elite arts of Amazon combat?"

Ryouga scratched his head a little while and thought.  "Er... 
does this mean she has to marry someone?"

Cologne thumped him on the head with her staff.  "No, you 
idiot!  The training!  She has to pass the training on to 
other Amazons!  Have you forgotten already?"

Ryouga rubbed his head and glared.  "I remember!  Give me a 
break, okay?  I thought Ranma might have told her about 
that."

Cologne sighed and shook her head with mild disgust.  "Girl, 
this fool will explain the details to you if he can be 
bothered to remember.  Suffice it to say that you have an 
obligation now to keep these methods a secret, and to train 
others of our tribe in the Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken method, 
should a young warrior seek you out to be her master."

"Uh... okay, I guess," Ukyou said.  "What about the other 
technique?  My ki-bolt attack?"

Cologne snorted.  "That thing?  That's not one of our 
techniques, my girl, and I wouldn't have you polluting one 
of our warriors with something like that.  Which one did you 
learn, hmm?  The original Shi-Shi Hokoudan, or perhaps 
Ranma's equally ludicrous variant?"

"I'm not really sure," the young chef admitted.   "Ranchan 
said he got the idea from my cooking."

The venerable warrior peered at her thoughtfully.  "Your 
cooking?  What do you mean?  Show me this technique of yours, 
if you will."

"All right," Ukyou agreed nervously.  She looked around the 
clearing for a suitable target, and finally settled on a 
chunk of rock next to a gnarled tree.  She tried to focus 
her concentration, though she found the old woman's scrutiny 
to be rather unsettling.  "I... I'm still not very good at 
this.  It might take a minute."

"Take your time, child," Cologne said.

"You can do it, Ukyou-san," Ryouga encouraged.

It took her more like three minutes before she could finally 
get her mind to settle into the right space to pull off the 
technique.  When she finally found her focus, the ki-spatula 
flew straight and true, splitting the stone clean down the 
middle and kicking up a plume of earth on the other side.  
She turned to face the Amazon elder again, wiping beads of 
sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.  

"I guess it is kind of useless," Ukyou admitted.  "I mean, 
if it took me that long to get it to work in a fight, I'd be 
in big trouble."

"Useless?" Cologne said.  "Oh no, my dear.  Not hardly.  And 
you're telling me that the son-in... that Ranma taught you 
that?"

"He and Ryouga both trained me," Ukyou said.  

The withered matriarch chuckled to herself again.  "Well, 
well.  Imagine that.  I wonder if he realizes what he did?"

"I don't get it," Ukyou said.  "What's so different about 
that technique from the ones Ranma and Ryouga do?"

"Attend what I say, both of you," Cologne addressed them.  
"The ki-projection techniques that you," she pointed to 
Ryouga, "and Ranma use are undeniably powerful, but they 
pose a dreadful danger to those who employ them.  Each 
feeds upon extreme emotions - depression for one, 
overconfidence for the other.   They require a deep 
imbalance in the mind and soul of whoever uses them.  
As time goes by, the emotions required to fuel these attacks 
will become stronger and stronger.  The user of these 
techniques risks unbalancing his entire personality."

"Unbalancing?" Ukyou asked.  "You mean Ryouga will get 
even more depressed than he already is?"

Cologne nodded gravely.  "And Ranma will become more 
narcissistic and egomaniacal, if he makes regular use 
of his Moko Takabisha."

Ryouga blanched visibly.  "Ranma... with a bigger ego?  
What a nightmare!"

Ukyou thumped him on the shoulder irritably.  "Oh, quit 
it.  What about me, though?  What will happen if I keep 
using my technique?"

"Ah," the old woman said, raising a finger.  "That's where 
yours is different.  As opposed to destroying inner 
equilibrium, your technique works in such a way as to 
help you achieve that balance.  That is why it is harder 
for you to use - but ultimately, if you keep working to 
perfect it, you will open doors to whole new levels of 
mastery, and your spirit and skill will blossom."

"Really?"  Ukyou said, her pulse quickening a bit.  She 
wasn't quite sure what the Amazon elder meant, but it 
sounded pretty exciting.

"Is there any way I can still use the Shi-Shi Hokoudan 
without something bad happening to me?" Ryouga asked.

"In its current form?  No," Cologne replied.  "Not unless 
you can come to an understanding of your own despair, one 
which uplifts you rather than drags you into darkness."

"Uplifts me?"  Ryouga squinted in confusion.  "Uplifting 
despair?  What is that supposed to mean?"

"I cannot answer that question for you, child," Cologne 
told him.  "That is a path you must walk alone."

Ryouga crossed his arms.  "If I live so long, you mean."

The old woman nodded gravely.  "The Reikoku pursues you.  
All other matters are secondary.  So... where are you going 
to go now that you are fit to travel?"

That seemed like a remarkably dense question for the Amazon 
matriarch, Ukyou thought.  "We're going after Ranchan, of 
course!" she stated firmly.  "Where else would we go?"

"Oh?" Cologne asked.  "And you have some plan to find him?"

"Of course!" the okonomiyaki chef said confidently.  "He's 
keeping in touch with the Tendous.  Once we get to a place 
with a phone, we'll just call them and find out where he is.  
Then we just have to catch up to him."

"Mmm," Cologne hummed thoughtfully.  "You make it sound very 
straightforward."

"What?" Ukyou asked warily.  "What are you suggesting?"

"I think," the venerable warrior said, "that you may want to 
talk to Ban Daidu before you make your decision.  She was 
part of the council last night, you see, and we discussed 
many ways that we might help you on your mission."

"Help us?" Ryouga asked, confused.  "How?"

Cologne responded by rapping the butt of her staff loudly on 
a nearby stone.  "Ban Daidu!" she called.  "Please come forth 
now, child."

The Amazon healer emerged as bidden from a nearby hut and 
approached them with measured dignity.  Ukyou felt her 
muscles tightening up as the older woman met her gaze.  
"Uh... hi," she offered lamely.

"You're the healer?" Ryouga asked, oblivious to the tension 
between the two women.  He turned and bowed deeply to her.  
"You have my thanks."

Ban Daidu regarded him impassively for a moment, then allowed 
a small, tired smile to cross her features.  She bowed back 
slightly.  "I accept your thanks, Hibiki Ryouga, and I wish 
you a safe journey."  The healer turned to face Ukyou again, 
her hands fidgeting slightly.  "Miss Kuonji," she said.  
"I... I regret some of the words which passed between us 
before."

That was pretty close to an apology.  Ukyou felt some of the 
tightness in her chest ease.  "Hey, it was mostly my fault," 
she admitted.  "I should have been straight with you."

Ban Daidu nodded slightly, the ribbons in her hair rustling 
softly against her greying tresses.  "I would not have you 
leaving this place remembering only my harsh and angry 
voice."

"I'll tell you what," Ukyou said with a smile.  "I think the 
only thing I'm going to remember is that there was this 
really great doctor who helped us out when we needed it 
most.  The rest doesn't really matter, does it?"

The Amazon healer's eyes shone with relief.  "Then I will 
only remember a brave young warrior who endured much hardship 
to bring her friend to safety."

"Sounds good to me, ma'am," Ukyou told her.

Ban Daidu held her right hand to her lips and gently kissed 
her own fingers.  She reached out to Ukyou and pressed her 
fingertips against the Japanese girl's forehead.  "You are 
welcome at my hearth in better times," she said.

Ukyou bit her lip a little bit and smiled.  "I hope I can 
take you up on that," she said.

Ban Daidu drew back a little bit and cleared her throat.  
"Yes... well.  About your quest, Ukyou and Ryouga.  I believe 
I have something which might aid you."  She reached into the 
folds of her sleeve and produced a teardrop-shaped turquoise 
earring, which she held forth in the palm of her hand.  

"What's that?" Ukyou asked curiously.

"Many years ago," the healer explained, "my grandmother was 
the one of our great scholars.  But she had a peculiar 
problem.  No matter how hard she tried, she could never 
keep track of both earrings in a pair.  She had three 
jewelry boxes full of single earrings, all of which had 
lost their mates.  Accessorizing, for her... was totally 
hopeless."

Ukyou blinked away a tear.  "That's terrible," she whispered.

Ryouga gave her a perplexed look.  "It is?"

"Never mind," Ukyou said.  "Please go on."

"Her husband-to-be knew of this problem," Ban Daidu continued.  
"And before he wed her, he set himself a quest.  Far and wide 
he traveled, until he at last found a pair of beautiful 
stones which held a magical attraction for each other.  He 
had these stones crafted into earrings, and presented them 
to my grandmother on the day of their wedding.  It was the 
perfect gift - if one earring were to be lost, the other 
would serve as a sort of compass to help find it.  My 
grandmother was overjoyed.

"But, a cruel fate befell my family," the healer explained 
darkly.  "Before my grandmother could even try these earrings 
on, a man who had been plaguing our town for weeks came forth 
and plundered the wedding ceremony.  Amongst other treasures, 
he made off with one of my grandmother's new earrings.  
Shortly after, the villain left our town.  That thief's name 
was Happosai."

"The old pervert!" Ryouga exclaimed.

"Exactly," Ban Daidu agreed.  "You should know that the 
accursed rogue will never part with a thing which he has 
stolen.  Even after all these years, he still has the mate 
to this earring.  And with this," she said, plucking the 
small piece of jewelry up by its thin golden hook, "you will 
be able to find him."

Ryouga and Ukyou bent close to peer at the earring as it 
dangled from Ban Daidu's grasp.  Sure enough, they could see 
the turquoise teardrop leaning outwards from the centerline 
of the accessory, pointing towards the west.  

"It works!" Ryouga said.  "That means Happosai is somewhere 
over there!"  He pointed due south.  Nobody bothered to 
correct him.

"I don't get it," Ukyou said.  "How come you never used this 
to find that old goat before?"

"For two reasons," Ban Daidu explained.  "First, it has only 
a limited range, though we don't quite know how far.  One or 
two hundred kilometers, probably.  See how weakly the earring 
indicates its direction?  Happosai is on the very edge its 
limits, and moving away.  Soon, he will be gone."

"But that still doesn't explain why you didn't use it when 
he first escaped with your stuff," Ukyou observed.  

"Yes," Ban Daidu said, looking somewhat embarrassed.  "I'm 
afraid that... my grandmother lost this earring.  For the 
longest time, we believed Happosai had stolen them both.  
Only recently, after she died a few years ago, did we find 
it under the bed."

"It was under the bed the whole time?"  Ukyou's tone was 
incredulous.

"What's so odd about that?" Ryouga asked.

Ukyou gave him a half-lidded look.  "Just forget about it."

"I wish you to have this earring," Ban Daidu said.  "Use it 
to find Happosai.  Many decades of ill deeds and betrayal 
follow him, like a shadow growing ever longer.  Perhaps now 
is the time when justice will finally be served."  She held 
the piece of jewelry forth, towards Ukyou.

The young chef extended her hand and let the earring drop 
into her open palm, her eyes glittering with excitement.  
Suddenly, their journey didn't seem anywhere near as hopeless 
as before.  "We'll find him," she promised.  "Once we catch 
up to Ranchan, we'll use this earring to..."

"Did you not listen?" Cologne interrupted.  "The earring has 
a limited range, and Happosai is on the edge of it.  In order 
to lure the Reikoku away from you, Ranma must have traveled 
that way," she said, pointing her staff towards the east.  
"Happosai lies in the other direction."

The elation Ukyou had felt about the earring began to give 
way to fear.  "But... then... we'll just head back west once 
we meet up with Ranchan!  We can pick up that old pervert's 
trail again.  We only have to get within a couple hundred 
kilometers, right?"

The old woman shrugged.  "You could try that, certainly.  
Yet old Happosai has shown you how difficult he is to pursue, 
has he not?  Who knows where he might head next?  He might 
well leave China altogether.  And winter approaches, Kuonji 
Ukyou.  I believe you have thought about what that means."

"This isn't fair!" Ukyou cried.  "Damn it all!"

Cologne's wrinkled face was sympathetic.  "No, my girl.  It 
is not fair."

She turned to Ryouga, her eyes pleading.  "We can't just 
leave Ranchan!"

The Lost Boy's eyes were grave.  He drew a deep breath and 
grit his teeth.  "Ukyou-san."

"Ryouga!"

"If anybody can survive by himself, it's Ranma," he said.  

"You came here to aid him," Cologne said.  "Now you must 
decide how to best achieve that goal.  And I tell you this:  
I have not forgotten about Saotome Ranma, even though he is 
no longer engaged to Shampoo.  I will be sending him what 
assistance I can."

Ukyou clenched her fist tight, pressing the little earring 
deep into her palm.  Her eyes stung with frustration and 
grief, but her jaw was tight with determination.  "All right 
then," she growled.  "We'll do what you suggest.  We'll go 
after Happosai.  That little bastard will pay for this, I 
swear it.  He will pay."

- - - - - -

Konatsu waited patiently, his grip light on the handle of his 
spatula as he watched the last few seconds tick off the clock.  
The oil on the griddle sizzled softly - it was just the 
right temperature.  He merely had to await the perfect 
moment, only a few more seconds...

The kunoichi smiled as the second hand finished its arc, 
and he began to lay the strips of salmon onto the grill.

This, he had learned, was Nabiki's favorite.  He'd seen her 
enjoy a great many of the okonomiyaki ingredients served at 
the restaurant, but nothing excited her taste buds like the 
flavor of fresh salmon, lightly grilled in a tangy mirin 
sauce.  She never admitted it, of course - it wouldn't be 
like her to spell out her feelings so plainly - but Konatsu 
could tell.  He knew her very well by now.

Salmon was kind of expensive and only good fresh, so they 
only offered it on weekends when they could be sure it 
wouldn't go to waste.  Fortunately, Nabiki had made of habit 
of coming into the restaurant early on weekends, a few hours 
before they opened for business.  And she was always 
punctual.

This was a very special time for Konatsu.  He'd gotten the 
timing down to an art by now.  When the first batch of salmon 
was done and the second was fresh on the grill, the aroma of 
the fish in the small restaurant reached its peak.  At that 
moment, Nabiki would walk through the door of Ucchan's, her 
clothes smartly pressed and her daytimer tucked under her 
left arm, and that sweet fragrance would greet her.  She 
would stop, just for a second, and her eyes would almost 
close.  She'd tip her head back ever-so-slightly and savor 
the aroma.  Then she would smile so very gently, her lips 
parting just a fraction, as if she was thinking about 
licking them.

Sometimes she'd say something to him, telling him how good 
it smelled in here, but more often she wouldn't.  Nabiki 
didn't like to repeat herself, and she didn't like to seem 
too predictable.  But that moment, that tiny smile and the 
tilt of her head... that was something she did every time.  
Konatsu was certain she didn't even realize it.  It was a 
sublime moment of joy that only he could create, and that 
smile she wore was his alone to cherish.

Konatsu floated through the weekends on a cloud of bliss, 
and nobody else knew why.

The young ninja chef's romantic musings met with a sudden, 
jarring interruption as a figure burst through the door of 
the restaurant.

"Excuse me, sir!"  Konatsu called.  "We aren't open yet."

The young man was tall and athletically trim, dressed in 
expensive, bright clothes which were a few small steps away 
from being gaudy.  He was immaculately groomed, but he had 
the eyes of a hunted animal.  "Quickly!" he gasped in a shaky 
voice.  "You must hide me!"

"Sir?"

He cast about the restaurant desperately for some place to 
cower.  "They're after me!" he groaned, his voice tinged with 
panic.  "I have to hide!"

"Who's after you, sir?" Konatsu asked with concern.

>From out in the street, Konatsu heard the sound of distant 
peals of laughter, growing steadily closer.

"NO!" the young man howled.  "AAAARGH!"  With that, he lunged 
forward, vaulting over the counter and griddle.

"Sir!  Please!" Konatsu cried in futile protest.  The young 
man curled himself up into a fetal ball and shivered in the 
corner.

"Don't let them find me!" he whispered piteously.

Before Konatsu could decide how to react, two more figures 
bounded through the door of the restaurant.  "Mikado-sama?  
My beloved?  Are you here?"

The girl who spoke was clad in a dark leotard emblazoned with 
rose designs, her thick, wavy hair bound into a ponytail by a 
red ribbon.  Konatsu recognized her, mostly by reputation.  
Ukyou had made no secret of her feelings about the "cackling 
nutcase" who often "followed Ranchan around like a rabid dog."  
She had been fond of invoking adjectives such as "demented," 
"arrogant," and "diseased" when referring to her rival, Kunou 
Kodachi.

The other girl, though, was a stranger.  She was small, 
delicately built, and cute to a nearly unbearable degree.  
Her outfit was similar to Kodachi's, but where her partner 
wore blacks and reds, this girl adorned herself with an 
eye-shattering array of pink, gold, lavender, and powder 
blue.  Her eyes glittered like rhinestones as they zeroed 
in on the spatula in Konatsu's hand.

"That spatula is so CUTE!" she shrieked.  "Flaubert!  
Flau..."

The little blow-dried terror made as if to lunge forward, 
but Kodachi intercepted her with a raised hand.  "Asuza-chan," 
she commanded in a stern voice.  "Dear girl, WHAT have I 
told you about that?"

Asuza clasped her tiny hands together and looked up at 
Kodachi with trembling lips.  "But... but... Flaubert!  
I want... I want..."

"If you want it," Kodachi instructed in a patient tone, "then 
you need but ask, as I have taught you."

The curly-haired moppet's eyes lit up with joy.  "Right!  I 
remember!"

"Very well," Kodachi said.  "Try again."

Asuza planted her hands on her hips and tossed her head 
proudly.  "You there, peasant girl!  I demand that you render 
that spatula as a gift to me, your rightful superior!  
TEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"

Asuza's squeals of mirth rattled the glass in the windows.  
Kodachi joined in with her own radar-jamming laughter, 
sending the neighborhood cats howling away in sheer 
terror.

Konatsu wobbled dizzily and leaned on the counter for 
support.  He held out the spatula in an unsteady hand.  
"All yours," he wheezed.

Asuza flounced forward gleefully and claimed her prize.  
Kodachi gestured boldly to catch the young chef's attention.

"Is this place," she asked, glancing about, "an okonomiyaki 
restaurant?"

"Yes, ma'am," Konatsu replied, his ears still ringing.

The gymnast grimaced elegantly.  "How dreadful."

"We're not open, though," the kunoichi added.

"Never mind that, laborer," the self-styled Black Rose 
insisted.  "Has the most dashing, gorgeous, handsome 
gentleman in the world graced this lowly gruel-kitchen 
with his majestic presence today?"

"Er... no," Konatsu answered truthfully.

"Widdle Asuza was SURE she saw hims run down this street," 
Asuza commented as she lovingly wrapped a little pink ribbon 
around Flaubert.

Kodachi gazed longingly into space.  "Oh, my beloved 
Mikado-sama!  Your loving kiss has awakened passions in me 
I never dreamed existed.  How long must I wait until you 
take me in your arms again?"

"I though you were after Ranma-san," Konatsu blurted out 
without thinking.

"Oh Ranma-sama!" Kodachi crooned, fixing her gaze to another 
random point on the ceiling.  "How naive was I when I loved 
you!  I was but a sweet, innocent maiden, swept away in the 
strong arms of a beautiful young boy.  Yet that girl has 
become a woman, with a woman's heart and a woman's needs.  
I fear a boy is no longer enough, and now I must have the 
virility of a true man!"

>From behind the counter, Mikado made a strangling noise.

"What was that?" Kodachi asked sharply.

"Uh, I was just thinking," Konatsu said quickly.  "What will 
Ranma-san say about this when he gets back?"

Kodachi clutched a hand to her chest.  "You are right, of 
course.  My darling Ranma-sama will be consumed with the 
fires of jealousy at the thought of another man laying 
hands upon the treasure which is his by right!  Oh, the 
raw, primitive muscle of Saotome Ranma!  The polished, 
handsome manliness of Sanzenin Mikado!  Whichever shall 
I choose?"

"You must have them both!" Asuza chimed.

Kodachi shook her head sadly.  "Such feeble-minded indecision 
is what keeps my brother so pitifully paralyzed.  No, the 
Black Rose will have none of that."  She looked up, her 
eyes flashing, and gestured skyward.  "They will simply have 
to fight to the death over me!  OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!"

"TEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!"

The very foundations of Ucchan's groaned in protest.  
Blackness crept in around the edges of Konatsu's world.  He 
whimpered softly.

"Well, we must continue our search," Kodachi announced.

Konatsu offered a silent and thoroughly sincere prayer of 
gratitude.  "If I see Sanzenin-san, I'll tell him you were 
here."

"See that you do!" the imperious gymnast replied.  "I find 
you peddlers of okonomiyaki to be notoriously untrustworthy.  
Come, Asuza!"

"Where the Black Rose goes, the Widdle Pink Pansy follows!" 
cried the small girl gleefully as she pranced out the door.

Konatsu watched them depart, feeling a profound sense of 
relief.  After he was certain they were at a safe enough 
distance, he peered down to the shuddering figure curled up 
behind the counter.  "They're gone now.  Are you 
Sanzenin-san?"

The lanky youth unfolded himself from his fetal posture and 
shot a few furtive glances over the countertop.  Once he was 
satisfied the coast was clear, he rose to his feet with a 
passable semblance of dignity.  "Yes," he said as he produced 
a comb and began to groom his hair back into place.  "You've 
heard of me, perhaps?"

"No," Konatsu informed him.  "But I just promised your 
girlfriend I'd tell you she was here."

Mikado shuddered.  "That... is not my girlfriend.  Please 
don't believe the things she was babbling.  The woman is 
completely aberrant."

Konatsu scratched his head.  "But she seemed to be saying 
that you two had kissed.  Doesn't that mean...?"

The handsome skater touched his forehead with the tips of his 
fingers and sighed.  "It was but a simple apology for my 
clumsiness.  I accidentally bumped into her in a coffee shop 
and made her spill her drink.  On such insignificant 
adventures do a man's fate hinge!  But, as a gentleman, 
what other recourse did I have but to make amends?"

"And this involved kissing her?"

He nodded.  "What other gesture would be sufficient? Had I 
but known!  I realized the kiss of Sanzenin Mikado is a 
thing of great power, but I never guessed it could drive 
a woman to such extremes of passion!  If only she were not 
so... er..."

"Spooky?" Konatsu suggested.

"Obsessive," Mikado continued.  "She won't accept that it was 
but a fleeting moment of bliss!  Now, she follows me 
everywhere I go.  What did I do to deserve such a cruel fate?"

"And the other one?" Konatsu asked.  "The little girl with 
all the pink and stuff?"

"My skating partner," Mikado explained.  "Perhaps you've 
heard of the Golden Pair of Kolkhoz High School?"

Konatsu shrugged.  "Sorry."

Mikado looked somewhat put out, but continued nonetheless.  
"Shortly after she started hounding me, Miss Kunou adopted 
my partner as... an apprentice of sorts, I suppose.  She 
seems bent on completely corrupting the poor innocent girl's 
mind.  I'm sure it's just another ploy by which to seeks to 
ensnare me.  She has made a ruin of my life!" the tall boy 
cried in anguish.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Konatsu said.  He turned and 
deftly flipped the salmon strips off the grill, thankful 
that they hadn't gotten burned during the whole mess.  

"But come," Mikado said, his voice changing abruptly to a 
more sultry tone.  "I should not be bothering you with my 
petty troubles.  I have yet to thank you for providing me 
sanctuary in my time of need."

"Oh, that's really all right..." Konatsu began as he began 
to lay the second batch of fish onto the griddle.  He was 
rather surprised to feel strong hands clasp him by the 
shoulders and pivot him until he was face-to-face with the 
puckering Sanzenin Mikado.

"Let me offer this token of my deep gratitude," the skater 
whispered, closing his eyes and bending forward towards 
Konatsu's lips.

Konatsu hadn't trained in the deadly and mysterious arts 
of the kunoichi for nothing.  His eyes flickered to the 
cutting board where he'd been slicing the ingredients for 
this morning's cooking.  The weapon he needed was easily 
within his grasp.  In a lightning quick gesture, he reached 
out to the counter and snatched a salmon head, then pressed 
its gaping mouth firmly against Mikado's seeking lips.  

The kiss ended with a vaguely slimy pop.  

Mikado pulled back with great dignity and dabbed his lips 
with a handkerchief.  Konatsu quickly hid the fish head 
behind his back before the skater opened his eyes again.  
The tall boy's smile hadn't wavered, but his left eyebrow 
was quivering slightly.

"My dear," Mikado said.  "You are indeed one of the loveliest 
maidens I have ever had the joy to behold.  But I am sorry 
to say, yours was the worst kiss that I have ever 
experienced."

"My deepest apologies," Konatsu said with a bow.

"Never mind," the skater said with a wave of his hand.  "Is 
there a back door to this establishment?"

Konatsu gestured behind him.  "Back that way.  Right next to 
the supply closet."

"Then I must be gone, before that harpy returns.  Farewell, 
pretty cook of the clammy lips!"  He saluted her with a flick
of the wrist and strode rapidly towards the back door.

Konatsu pivoted to watch him go.  He was so distracted by 
watching the strange, hunted young man leave that he didn't 
notice the sound of Nabiki coming through the front 
entrance.  

"Hey, Konatsu," she called.

"Na... Nabiki-san!"  He whirled, but it was too late.  She'd 
already caught the aroma, and her moment of pleasure had come 
and gone.  Konatsu's heart sank - how could he let himself 
have missed her smile?  <It's all the fault of those three 
weirdoes.  If I ever see them again...>

"Anything interesting happen this morning?" Nabiki asked 
conversationally as she tied her apron into place.

For a moment, Konatsu didn't have the slightest idea what 
to say.

- - - - - -

The phone picked up on mid ring.  Kasumi's voice was a bit 
blurred by the static - the phone lines out here in the 
Chinese countryside weren't in the greatest condition - but 
Akane could hear her well enough.  "Tendou residence." 

"Hey, sis!  It's me."

"Oh, Akane!" Kasumi said.  "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said.  "Just figured I'd call in while I've 
got the chance.  I'm getting into farmlands and stuff.  How 
are things going?"

"Just fine," her elder sister assured her.  "In fact, I'm 
entertaining some guests right now.  Do you remember 
Daimonji-san and his wife?"

Akane thought about that for a moment.  "Oh wait a sec... 
you mean Sentaro and Satsuki, from that tea ceremony place?  
Yeah, I remember them.  What are they doing over?"

"Oh, I've kept in touch," Kasumi explained.  "I do like to 
do the tea ceremony, you know, though I'm not so keen at 
their particular style."

Akane grinned.  The Martial-Arts Tea Ceremony style was a 
particularly lame brand of esoteric combat, but even that 
would be well beyond Kasumi.  Her eldest sister did perform 
an excellent conventional tea ceremony, of course.

"Anyway," Kasumi continued, "they're going to a tournament, 
so I've agreed to babysit Miss Sanae."

"Wait... their pet monkey?" Akane asked incredulously.  "Sis, 
are you sure it's such a good idea to have a monkey around 
the house?"

"Oh no," Kasumi said.  "Akane, you must realize that Miss 
Sanae is a chimpanzee.  That means she's an ape, not a 
monkey."

"Uh... I see."

"In any case, shall I get out the map?  I can help you find 
the most direct route towards where Ranma is now."

"I'm not going to see Ranma just yet," Akane said.  "It's 
like I said - I'm going to the Amazon village."

Kasumi was silent on the line for a while.  "Akane, are you 
sure that's such a good idea?  Ranma is all alone now."

"I know that, sis.  I won't take long.  I have to do this 
first, though."

"But you trained so hard to go," Kasumi protested.  "I don't 
understand why you're putting it off now.  Please, be honest 
with me, Akane - are you afraid to see Ranma again?"

"No!" she said.  "No, that's not it at all!  I'd give 
anything to be with him right now, Kasumi, you have to 
believe that.  But it won't do any good if I just go charging 
in without a plan."

"But your training..."

"Sis, I trained so hard because I may need to fight the 
Reikoku.  I really believe I can beat it now... once, 
anyway.  Maybe twice.  But that's all.  If I just go in 
like Ukyou did and throw myself at the monster, all it's 
going to do is get me killed."

"You have to have faith in Ranma," Kasumi said.  "You know 
he fights hardest when he's protecting you."

Akane closed her eyes and sighed.  "You're right, sis.  But 
that may not be enough.  Elder Cologne said she wanted to see 
me.  That means she might help me make a plan.  I can't pass 
that up, no matter how much I want to go to Ranma right now.  
Okay?"

"I understand," Kasumi said.  "I'm sorry, Akane... I know 
you've thought all this out.  I'm just so worried about you 
both.  I want you to come home."

"We will," Akane told her, her voice full of resolve.  "I 
swear it.  We will."

- - - - - -

Ranma knelt next to the stooped old woman, speaking loudly to 
compensate for her failing ears.  "That's him?" he asked, 
pointing to the person in question in case the lady's 
piecemeal command of Japanese wasn't sufficient for 
understanding.

The old woman nodded slowly.

"You sure?" Ranma asked.  "That's the guy who stole your 
family's underwear?"

The withered lady nodded again.

Ranma stood up and crossed his arms, studying the panty thief 
critically.  "Well," he announced to nobody in particular, 
"it sure ain't Happosai."

The individual in question had aped his master's tastes in 
thievery masks, with a dark grey strip of cloth tied in a 
knot under his nose, but there all visible similarities to 
the old lecher ended.  The apprentice pervert stood head and 
shoulders taller than Ranma, a flesh monolith of rippling 
muscle with a frame like a grizzly bear.  Apart from the 
mask, he was dressed fairly simply in pants and vest, with 
the most distinctive element of his attire being his colossal 
necklace of prayer beads.  The necklace hung to his waist, 
and each black globe was almost as large as a bowling ball.  
The heavy, thudding sound they made when they shifted told 
Ranma that they were certainly not hollow.  A normal man 
probably couldn't lift those beads, much less wear them 
around his neck.

Ranma was not impressed.  A martial artist that ludicrously 
over-muscled was almost assured to be a sadly one-dimensional 
fighter.  The old geezer sure wasn't being very picky with 
his potential recruits.

According to what Ranma had learned from the local townsfolk, 
this big poser had thumped his way into their modest village 
a few weeks ago, claiming that he was on a warrior's 
pilgrimage to enhance his skills.  They'd welcomed him 
politely enough until it became clear that the skills he 
was honing involved the wholesale theft of every woman's 
undergarment he could find.  He was a pitiful thief - always 
thundering around like a bull, smashing through walls and 
toppling furniture in his wake during every futile attempt 
at stealth - but he was so huge and powerful that nobody in 
town dared to face him.

It was purely by accident that Ranma had stumbled across this 
trainee of Happosai during his flight from the Reikoku, but 
now that he was here, he figured he'd better take care of 
this bully.  Besides, there was always a chance this guy knew 
something about where Happosai had gone.  In any case, it was 
still a good chance to beat up a jerk.

At the moment, the huge thief hadn't even noticed Ranma, so 
busy was he counting and sorting his ill-gotten booty by the 
side of the road.  Ranma picked up a good-sized chunk of 
gravel, tossed it in the air once, then bounced it off the 
giant's ear.

"//WHO DARES!//" boomed the immense fighter in Chinese, 
whirling to face Ranma.  The old woman skittered to a safe 
distance, where a crowd was already beginning to form.

"Yo," Ranma said by way of introduction.  "The name's Saotome 
Ranma."

"Eh?" the vast warrior said.  To Ranma's surprise, he began 
to speak very respectable Japanese.  "Wait... I know that 
name!"

<Oh brother,> Ranma thought.  <That old freak's gonna ruin 
my reputation over the whole continent if this keeps up!>  
"Look," he said quickly.  "I don't care what that stupid old 
pervert told you about me.  All I want is for you to quit 
bothering these people and tell me where I can find that 
senile little mutant.  Cooperate, and you won't get hurt."

The warrior drew up to his full height, filling his cavernous 
lungs and glaring at Ranma.  "You DARE speak of my master in 
such a disrespectful fashion?  The great Gaira will not stand 
for that!"

"I figured as much," Ranma said with a grin.  "I guess we'll 
have to do this the hard way."

"Fool!"  Gaira thundered.  "You will regret your insolence.  
I am NOT a man to be reckoned with!"

Ranma snorted in amusement.  "You can say that again, pal."

Gaira peered in the air, thinking back over what he'd just 
said.  "AARGH!  I mean I AM a man to be reckoned with.  I am 
NOT a man to be trifled with!  Damn it, I messed it up AGAIN!"

The pig-tailed martial artist just rolled his eyes.  "Look, 
shut up and fight before you embarrass yourself even more, 
okay?"

"Take THIS!" the mammoth fighter bellowed.  He charged Ranma 
in a painfully predictable fashion, hoping to bowl his 
smaller foe over with a shoulder check and trample him 
underfoot.  Ranma had time for a theatrical yawn before he 
dropped down and away from the impact, catching the massive 
man's feet with a precise sweep kick as he thundered by.  
Gaira stumbled forward, losing his balance and sprawling to 
the ground in a tangle of trunk-like limbs and clattering 
prayer beads.

Ranma sauntered over casually to where his adversary had 
fallen.  "You still wanna go through with this?"

Gaira rose ponderously to his feet, burning with rage.  
"So... I underestimated you," he rumbled.  One meaty hand 
clutched his prayer bead necklace.  "I guess I'll have to 
unleash a fraction of my mere might!"

"Man, you have no idea how lame you sound," Ranma observed.

Gaira's response was a bestial snarl as he whipped off his 
necklace and used it to lash out at Ranma.

The speed of the attack caught Ranma by surprise, and he was 
almost too late to dodge the brutally massive weapon.  He 
backpedaled and ducked frantically as Gaira twisted and 
swirled his beads in a dizzying pattern.  The reports of 
the immense stone spheres smashing together as Gaira hurled 
them in arcs of pulverizing fury echoed like gunshots around 
Ranma's head, unnerving and disorienting him.  He dodged by 
reflex alone, ducking and contorting his way out of the 
erratic path of the fearsome weapon, rolling and leaping 
to save his skin, lashing out and...

The thunderous din of Gaira's attack suddenly changed, 
punctuated by a single sharp hiss.  The necklace flew apart, 
whistling out of Gaira's hands in a crazy mass of loose beads 
and thick cord.  The villagers in the crowd dove for cover 
as heavy globes of stone sprayed down the street.

Ranma was as surprised as Gaira, but he'd seen what 
happened.  On instinct, as he'd dodged, he'd lashed out with 
a hand and split one of the heavy beads clean down the 
middle, without even touching it.  The stone of the destroyed 
globe was smooth as mirror-glass where he'd slashed it in 
half.

<The Neko-ken,> he though.  There was no other explanation.  
And now, finally, he understood.

The reason he'd never been able to duplicate these freak 
resurgences of the Neko-ken in his practice sessions was 
because he'd been thinking too hard.  The Neko-ken surfaced 
when he was operating on instinct, when he WASN'T thinking 
about what he was doing and his body's reflexes took over.  
When he'd been chopping wood, the task was so simple and 
repetitive that he'd started to run on autopilot, and the 
Neko-ken had kicked in.  But this time...

This time, he'd been trusting his reflexes in hard combat, 
and the cat-like powers of the Neko-ken had taken over.  
This was unexpected, and potentially very dangerous.  The 
whole point of martial arts training was to try to transcend 
normal conscious control of every movement, to train your 
body until it though and fought in combat on instinct, with 
techniques and moves coming as naturally as breathing.  
Conscious thought was for strategy and analysis - it was 
much too slow for governing the continuous moves of a battle 
at the level of skill Ranma had attained.

But now, he couldn't allow himself to fight like that.  This 
time, he'd cut his foe's weapon in half.  What happened when 
he struck flesh?  What if, for instance, the Neko-ken became 
active while he was using the Chestnut Fist attack?  His foe 
could be maimed or even killed.  On the other hand, if he 
tried to keep rigid control over himself as he fought, he'd 
be working at only a fraction of his normal speed.  This 
Gaira was a total washout when it came to banter, but his 
martial arts skills were a lot better than Ranma had given 
him credit for.  Even unarmed, he was too dangerous.  Ranma 
couldn't afford to get injured now, not with the Reikoku 
somewhere back there on his trail.  

Gaira seemed to have recovered from the unexpected loss of 
his weapon and charged Ranma again.  This time, the big man 
came in under control, hoping to snare Ranma in his groping 
hands.  The Japanese youth danced out of the way, still 
considering his strategy.

"You little fool!" Gaira howled.  "I'll beat you into 
insects!"

<Well, I could probably lure him into a spiral,> Ranma 
thought, <or I could see if the Moko-Takabisha can take 
him out.  But maybe this would be a good time to try out 
my new techniques on him.>

Ranma took a high vaulting leap away from his foe, then 
struck a pose with his left arm extended and his right hand 
pulled to his chest in a fist.  "Okay, big boy.  You asked 
for it.  Prepare to face the Art of the One-Man Dragon!"

Gaira spat contemptuously.  "Feh.  Never heard of it."  He 
advanced towards his foe with the deliberate inevitability 
of continental drift.

Ranma waited until the giant was close, almost in range to 
reach out and grasp him in a meaty fist, and then he kicked 
off with one foot.  His pirouettes were so fast that he 
seemed to vanish into a spinning blur.  His aura flared hot 
around his left hand as he pulled it inwards, describing a 
tight spiral towards his own body.  The glowing trace of his 
aura wound about him like a white-hot thread.

A moment later, he broke his spin, thrusting his right hand 
into a powerful uppercut.  "ONE-MAN DRAGON ASCENSION!" he 
shouted.

The resulting whirlwind tossed the surprised Gaira into the 
air, battering him with its devastating fury.  His chunky 
form hurtled up and away, twisting through the sky until the 
miniature tornado tossed him clear and sent him plummeting to 
the earth.

Ranma watched with satisfaction.  That was the simplest of 
his new techniques - it was basically the Hiryuu Shoten-ha 
performed solo.  By concentrating his hot aura on one hand 
and his cold aura on the other, he could create the same 
effect of an explosive energy whirlwind.  It wasn't quite 
as powerful as the true Hiryuu Shoten-ha, but it was a LOT 
more practical.

Gaira wasn't out, but he was staggered.  This was fine by 
Ranma - he had a few more techniques he wanted to test on a 
live target, and this overstuffed panty-raider looked like he 
could soak up a lot of punishment.

"DRAGON-CLAW STORMS!" Ranma shouted, and began his next 
attack.

He swept his hands in front of him in a series of super-quick 
crisscrossing patterns.  With each pass, a tight disc of wind 
streaked forth towards his foe, each about a meter in radius.  
Gaira stumbled back as each whirling bolt struck home, trying 
vainly to cover up with his arms.

These attacks weren't individually that strong, but Ranma 
could snap off a dozen or so in about a second.  He'd learned 
through experimentation that he could adjust the relative 
temperature in each hand to make the discs hot so they seared 
their target on impact, or cold so they stung with a 
fast-moving spray of tiny ice crystals when they hit.  He'd 
opted for the ice variant on Gaira.

<I'm gettin' better range than I did in training,> he 
observed with pleasure.  The tighter he could make his 
spiraling missiles, the better they'd hold together over 
distance.  It was just a matter of practice.

He could probably have finished Gaira off with a continuous 
bombardment, but he had one more technique he really wanted 
to try.

"Saotome School One-Man Dragon finishing technique," he 
announced.  "HUNDRED-HEADED DRAGON ATTACK!"

Ranma planted his feet and concentrated on mustering as much 
high-octane speed as he could manage.  At blazing Amaguriken 
velocity, he traced a spiral in front of him with his 
searing-hot left hand, then punched through the spiral's 
center with a freezing right jab.  By the time his right 
hand pulled back, his left was already describing its next 
spiral.

Each time he performed this action, a tight rope of furious 
wind writhed forth, snaking and twisting towards its target.  
These wind lances glowed with his own battle aura, even more 
so than the surging hurricane of the Hiryuu Shoten-ha.  They 
were extensions of his will, lashing and twisting fists he 
could guide to hammer his adversary.  He bent the full 
measure of his concentration towards battering the hapless 
Gaira.

The first funnel of wind struck the muscle-bound warrior in 
the chest, rocking him back on his heels.  Each new vortex 
Ranma launched impacted with greater force, combining its 
power with the previous attacks.  Soon, the dragon winds 
lifted Gaira off his feet, smashing him with devastating 
force, driving him into the ground on the head of a 
horizontal tornado.  The warrior's massive body plowed a 
deep trench in the earth as the force of Ranma's attack 
battered him with its howling fury.

Finally, Ranma broke off, letting the winds die down.  He 
panted from exertion - that last attack took a lot of speed 
and control, but it was far more focused than the Hiryuu 
Shoten-ha, and a hell of a lot more powerful than the 
Moko-Takabisha.  And he hadn't even taken it to its full 
potential, for fear of causing permanent harm to his foe.

<But I ain't holdin' back for you,> he thought, looking back 
along the path he'd traveled to reach town.  He was only 
dimly aware of the cheers of appreciation from the villagers 
around him.  Ranma's mind was on his implacable pursuer, 
shuffling relentlessly towards him somewhere out there, its 
three red eyes burning bright against the ghastly void 
beneath its hood.  <Just you wait, you bastard.  I'll be 
ready for you.>

- - - - - - 



                    end of part twelve...

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

Gaira isn't a Ranma 1/2 cast member - he's ripped off from
the Samurai Showdown video game series.  I just kind of needed
a punching bag for Ranma this time around.  He is but one of
the two gratuitous references to that particular video game
in this chapter.

One of the bummers in writing "Relentless" is that the plot 
didn't really call for much of Kodachi the Black Rose, who is 
one of the most amusing characters in the whole cast. I was 
glad that I finally found a place for her.

COMING SOON:  Akane reaches the Amazon village, while Ranma
continues to make his way alone through the countryside of China.
How long can he stay ahead of the Reikoku?  Will his new 
techniques be enough to withstand it?  Meanwhile, Ukyou and
Ryouga strike out in pursuit of Happosai, on a desperate 
errand to find out where the Reikoku came from, and how to
stop it.

REVISION NOTES: Not much.

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

GRT - May 2000
MODIFIED - April 2005
thunderstruck_comic@comcast.net

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




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