Okay, this is my second draft of part one. The changes made were in response to the insightful
comments of those who offered C&C. Thanks again, and go ahead and have at it with this
version as well.
General acknowledgements:
I would like to thank Chris Rijk for pre-reading this story and offering his comments and
suggestions, giving me the courage to submit it for general scrutiny. I would also like to thank all
the other fanfic authors out there who not only saved me from going into severe Ranma
withdrawal, but also prompted me to try my own hand at Ranma fanfic. This story is *your*
fault! ^_^
The characters of the Ranma « universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant
Rumiko Takahasi.
--------------------------------------------------
Yuki-onna: Hearts of Ice
Part 1: Blood Spell
by Krista Perry
Something was wrong. Ranma could feel it; a twisting, nervous sensation in his gut, a
sixth sense almost. It wasn't the same other-sense that he used as a martial artist, the sense he'd
developed that forewarned him of a sneak-attack or an opponent's moves during battle. It was
more of a... Drat! He couldn't put his finger it.
He glanced at the sky as he ran, his feet not missing a beat as they instinctively found the
narrow length of fence piping beneath him. Not a cloud in sight. It was bright, dewy morning in
Nerima. The heady scent of cherry blossoms and sizzling breakfasts filled the spring air.
Ranma frowned, perplexed. Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with rain today. He
glanced down at his fiancee as she kept pace with him on the sidewalk in their routine sprint to
school. His frown deepened. Akane wasn't even looking at him, and as long as he kept his mouth
shut, he knew he was relatively safe from getting the receiving end of a fist fueled by her violent
temper. Still, he couldn't be too careful. The kawaikune tomboy was volatile and unpredictable
on her best days.
Even if she did have a sudden urge to beat him to a pulp for no reason, it was a common
enough occurrence that it shouldn't cause the sick sensation he had in the pit of his stomach. The
only thing that came close to what he was feeling was usually caused by ingesting Akane's
cooking.
Okay, perhaps he was over-reacting. Akane's cooking made him feel much worse.
Smirking to himself, but wisely keeping silent, he hopped over a segment of fencing that
looked as if it had been smashed repeatedly with an object that appeared to have the same shape
as Ranma's face. The strange feeling surged in his gut, and he heard an almost audible *click* in
his head as he suddenly comprehended was bothering him.
He didn't realize he'd stopped running until Akane yelled at him. "Ranma, you dummy,
what are you doing? Do you want to make us even more late than we are already? Don't just
stand there, come on!"
Ranma blinked. "Yo, Akane, have you... I mean, do you know... uh..." Ranma thought
furiously, but knew there was no way to phrase his question without incurring Akane's wrath.
She was already looking steamed as he continued to stand on the fence stuttering.
"What *is* it, Ranma?" Akane growled. "I don't want to end up holding buckets all day,
so let's move it."
Ranma sighed inwardly. And here he'd gone the whole morning without a pummeling.
"Hey, look, it's no big deal, I was just gonna ask you if you'd seen Shampoo around lately."
"NANI?!!" Akane's fists clenched convulsively at her sides, and her right arm began to
pull back to its launch-ready status.
Ranma held up his hands, his third and fourth fingers automatically curling into the
"go-away-thou-inflicter-of-pain" position. "Hey, uh... chill, Akane. It's not like I *want* to see
Shampoo or anything. It's just that... Don't you think it's odd that she hasn't slammed my face into
the fence with her bike the past few mornings? I mean, haven't you noticed that she's been kinda
scarce lately?" He pointed to his facial imprints in the metal piping behind him.
All of the speed, strength and agility Ranma possessed as a martial artist had yet to save
him from Akane's "Wrath-of-Woman-Scorned-Fist-Attack." There was a tremendous, yet
familiar*CRACK*, and Ranma saw stars as he flew head first into the drainage ditch, landing with
a *splash*. The change rippled through him instantly, and Ranma-chan spluttered to the surface
rubbing her jaw.
"Whaddja do *THAT* for?!!"
Akane stood fuming. "Of course I noticed, you stupid hentai! I thought you might be
relieved that Shampoo hasn't been around glomping on to you all this past week, but if you miss
her that much, why don't you go *FIND* her?!" And without waiting to hear his reply, Akane
turned and sprinted off to school again, leaving an angry, dripping Ranma-chan standing alone in
the drainage ditch.
"Stupid girl," muttered Ranma as she grasped the chain link. She swung herself up and
flipped in a mid-air arc to land on the top of the fence again. "Stupid kawaikune tomboy. Did I
say I wanted to find Shampoo? I was just pointing out that she hasn't been around lately. Maybe
she's gone back to China... Naw, my luck's never *that* good..." Ranma ran along the fence and
rubbed her jaw with one hand, feeling the rising bruise that was probably already starting to
purple.
<It's just that I think Shampoo's up to something,> she thought. <It's not like her to up
and disappear like this, or leave without saying goodbye...> The sick feeling in her stomach was
still there. If anything, it intensified when she made the connection with Shampoo's
uncharacteristic absence. <She's up to something, I'm sure of it.>
A few blocks ahead of Ranma, Akane ran, blinking back tears. <That stupid hentai!> she
thought, gritting her teeth. <Of course he would have to bring up Shampoo. It's been so nice not
having her around hanging on Ranma all of the time, but I guess he just can't stand the thought of
loosing one of his *CUTE* fiancees! And then he has to go rub it in! That womanizing
*JERK!*>
A tiny part of her mind whispered to her that she could be jumping to conclusions, but she
turned on it fiercely. She wasn't jumping to conclusions! All the facts pointed directly to one
result, and that was that Ranma was an insensitive pervert. Hmph! What did she care? He and
that Chinese bimbo Shampoo belonged together!
That tiny, whispering part of her mind shriveled and cried at the thought. But Akane
ignored it. And kept running.
---------------------------------------------------------------
As a matter of fact, Shampoo *was* in China. But if Ranma had known what she was
doing there, he would have been far from comforted.
She stood trembling at the entrance of a huge gaping black cave at the top of a jagged
mountain, her body tensed in a ready stance, her hands clutching her bonbouri. Her body was
covered with purpling bruises and scrapes. There was a bleeding gash on her right cheek just
below her eye. Her mass of violet hair was a tangled, matted mess.
She hesitated on the edge of the cave. It was so dark inside that it seemed as though light
could not penetrate the entrance. Shampoo reached into the bodice of her torn, soiled blouse and
pulled out a small, but ancient scroll that hung from a gold chain around her neck. Carefully, she
unrolled it, her eyes scanning up and down rapidly as she checked her instructions.
After returning the scroll to its place, she closed her eyes to steady herself. When her
violet eyes opened again, they were filled with determination.
"<I have come, Ancient One,>" she called out in Chinese. Her light soprano voice had an
edge of steel, and it echoed into the darkness of the cave. "<I have defeated your demon
guardians. I demand that you come and face me!>"
Two gleaming blood-red eyes, each the size of a house, blinked open in the blackness.
The dark scarlet glow from the eyes illuminated the cave, revealing a hint of scales and teeth. A
low snarl caused the ground to tremble, and Shampoo was showered with rocks and dirt from the
cave ceiling.
Shampoo paled and took a step back, thinking to flee the cave. Then her brow furrowed
in determination, and she held her ground. She'd come too far to turn back now! "<Face me,
dragon!>" she called out. "<I require something of you.>"
The rumbling snarl turned into a deep, throaty laugh. "<Go away, girl-child, before I eat
you.>"
"<I will not leave, and you will not eat me. I have passed your guardians. I have found
your lair. Now you will give me what I require.>"
The huge eyes narrowed, and Shampoo gulped softly. <Aiya,>she thought. <Have I
come all this way and done all this work only to be eaten?>
"<What is it you require?>" The movement of the dragon's mouth revealed its rows of
huge teeth gleaming in the red of the eyelight, yet Shampoo sighed in relief. According to the
scroll, the dragon's response meant that he would go along with the ritual. Whether this was
because of a magical binding or dragon whim, she didn't know.
"<I require a small amount of your blood, Ancient One.>"
"<You are willing to pay the price?>"
"<I have fought for the privilege of paying the price, Ancient One.>"
"<Very well. Extend your arm.>"
Shampoo extended her left arm into the almost tangible shadows of the cave. The
ground shook as the dragon moved it's massive body towards her. She stifled a shriek as a single
black claw, twice as tall as she was, came out of the gloom, it's needle-sharp tip poised over her
arm. Before she could withdraw, the claw came down, the point lancing through her arm just
below the elbow, and retracting just as quickly.
The pain was incredible, worse than she imagined. Blackness surged on the edges of her
vision, but she forced herself to remain conscious. She could feel her blood running down her
arm, past her hand, and trickling off her fingers in a steady stream. She could hear her heart
pounding, growing louder in her ears. Looking down, she saw that her blood was being caught in
a crystal basin. The basin was filling rapidly.
"<Enough,>" said the dragon. "<That will do.>" Shampoo looked at her arm and saw
that the bleeding had stopped. She raised her right hand to her forehead to hold back a wave of
dizziness.
"<You have paid the price. Now take your reward, sorceress, and go.>" A whirlwind
appeared out of nowhere, sweeping around Shampoo. She never felt her feet leave the ground,
but when the wind dispersed she found herself standing at the bottom of the mountain facing the
valley. In her hand, she clutched a small crystal vial of black liquid.
Dragon blood.
She looked at it and smiled, the excitement in her eyes a contrast to her battle-weary,
blood-drained body. "Now, Ranma. Now you see I love you more than Akane love you. Soon
Akane gone for good, and you come to me. Then we married forever."
Shampoo collapsed to the ground in an exhausted, unconscious heap.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Akane and Ranma stood sullenly in the school hall, each holding a pail of water, each
studiously ignoring the other.
They sneezed simultaneously.
Ranma sniffed and rubbed his nose. "Gah. Somebody must be talking about us."
Akane snorted. "I can't imagine why."
"And what is *that* supposed to mean?"
She glared at him. "I was being sarcastic, you dope. It's probably the teachers talking
about how we were late yet once again. We'll be lucky if Hinako-sensei doesn't show up with her
5 yen piece in a few minutes." Akane smiled to herself, seeing Ranma grimace and roll his eyes at
the prospect of facing the hyper-active Hinako-sensei and her plethora of circular objects, but she
covered it with a mask of seriousness when Ranma turned to her.
"You don't think she'd try *that,* do you? Just for being late? I mean, we're already
holding these stupid buckets of water."
"Oh, I don't know," Akane responded casually. "I've heard she's been cracking down on
even the most minor offenses, like chewing gum in class, or talking out of turn. I'm sure showing
up to school five minutes late, or ten minutes late in your case--"
"Hey, I had to find some hot water, no thanks to you--"
"-- will be more than enough to bring Hinako-sensei down on us both. I wonder what
Daddy will do when he sees me all drained of ki and finds out that it was all your fault."
Ranma paled, knowing from experience how Soun Tendo reacted to any threat to his
beloved daughters. The Demon-head Ki attack was not something to be dismissed lightly.
<Ah, man, that's all I need.> Ranma stared at his feet glumly and twisted the pail in his
hand making the water surge and swirl in the bucket. He immediately stopped, letting the water
settle. His luck with water had never been good since the curse. Water was almost like a sentient
thing around him, actively seeking him out to turn him female at the most inconvenient moments
and make his life miserable. He certainly didn't need to have an "accident" with his pail in the
middle of the school hall right now. And on top of everything else that had gone wrong today, he
still couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. Soon. Something a
heck of a lot worse than getting drained by Hinako-sensei or facing Tendo-san's demon head.
Ranma shook his head, trying to clear it. <Man, why can't I shake this feeling? It's creeping me
out!>
Akane watched Ranma from the corner of her eye, her brows creasing into a confused
frown that didn't quite reach her mouth. <That's odd,> she thought. He wasn't responding to her
jibes the way he normally did. She liked seeing the all-mighty too-macho Ranma get flustered and
panicky, and normally any mention of her father's protectiveness was enough to send him into an
indignant, stuttering rage. Instead, he was staring at the floor with a strange, almost sad look in
his eyes.
Her confusion warmed into concern. Was he sick? No, Ranma never got sick, and
besides, aside from the look on his face, he appeared perfectly healthy. Then what was wrong?
He'd been acting weird all day. Breakfast at the Tendo household that morning had even passed
in relative peace, aside from the usual wolfing noises Ranma and Genma made while scarfing
down their food. He was strangely subdued, and Akane was startled to realize that, aside from
the incident on the fence, he hadn't flung any of his usual insults at her. Could it be that he didn't
want to fight with her anymore? No, that definitely wasn't it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have
brought up Shampoo, the jerk.
Something was obviously troubling him, though. Perhaps he felt bad about his mom.
Nodoka had come by earlier in the week, and Ranma and Genma had been forced to do their
Ranko/Mr. Panda routine once again. Ranma always tried to act happy when his mother was
around. But Akane watched him when he thought no one was looking, and she saw the almost
imperceptible slump of his shoulders, the quiver in his smile, and the pain that glimmered in his
eyes.
When she saw him like that, it almost made her want to cry,she felt so bad for him. She
missed her own mother; the grief of loosing her when she was a child still haunted her at times, so
she understood a little of what Ranma was feeling. It must be torture for Ranma to have his
mother *right there,* alive and loving and longing for her only child, and not even be able to tell
her who he was. His curse condemned him to be a stranger to her; to be "Ranko Tendo, adopted
niece" rather than Ranma Saotome, son.
Maybe if he talked about it, he might feel better and start acting like his old self. Akane
didn't like seeing him like this. Not that his old self was any better, but at least she knew how to
deal with him then. On the other hand, if she showed how concerned she was for him, he might
get some funny ideas about her *liking* him, or something equally stupid. As if she could ever
lo... like a stupid hentai jerk like him.
"Ranma?" She intentionally put an edge in her voice, not wanting to sound too
concerned. "What's wrong with you?"
He didn't lift his eyes. "Nothin'." He had toyed momentarily with the idea of trying to
explain what was bothering him, but then he heard the anger in Akane's voice, and knew that any
explanation he tried to give would probably earn him a quick sex change and a new set of bruises,
courtesy her bucket of water. Besides, it didn't even make sense to him, so there was no way she
would understand. She didn't understand things even when the explanation should have been
perfectly obvious. He thought of Ryoga/P-Chan, one of the better examples of Akane's blindness,
and sighed. "At least nothing *you'd* listen to," he finished.
Oops. Akane's battle aura flickered on the edges of his vision. Somehow he'd done it
again, and he wasn't even sure what he'd said this time to make her angry, especially when he'd
been trying so hard to avoid her temper. He turned quickly, jumping into the air with his pail as
the water flew right where he'd been standing, sloshing to the floor as Ranma flipped and landed
on dry tile. He turned to yell at Akane, but her pail was already there, slamming against the side
of his head, upsetting his pail and drenching him as he crashed head first into the floor.
"Ranma, no *baka!*"
Ranma-chan recovered immediately and flipped up to her feet, just barely missing another
pail attack. She jumped back and stood dripping, risking a glance at Akane only when she knew
she was out of range.
"Jeeze, Akane, whaddja do *that* for?" Ranma-chan shouted, angry and baffled at the
unprovoked attack. "I didn't do nothin', you psycho macho chick!"
Akane stood in a battle stance, holding her empty pail. Her teeth were clenched and her
brow was furrowed in fury. Then, without warning, her battle-aura faded and her eyes shimmered
with unshed tears.
Ranma's mouth opened, and she leaned away from Akane in panic. "What the... What's
wrong?" Ranma's voice rose in pitch. "You're not gonna cry, are you? Jeeze, whaddi *do?*"
Akane threw her empty pail to the floor with a clang. "Ranma, you *jerk,* it figures that
you're too stupid to know what an insensitive creep you are! And to think I was *worried* about
you!" With that, Akane turned and, for the second time that day, she fled, leaving a soaked
Ranma-chan standing in the flooded school hallway staring after her, her mouth still hanging open
in surprise.
<She was... worried? About me?>
Around the corner, Akane leaned against the wall, her chest heaving with silent sobs. She
felt the tears brim and slide down her cheeks, and put her face in her hands. <Why did I *do*
that?> she thought miserably. <It's not like he really insulted me or anything. He just said I
wouldn't listen, and then I go and prove his point right there! What's wrong with me today?>
She wiped at her face and tried to get herself under control. <I've felt edgy all morning.
Maybe I've just got a bad case of nerves.> She sighed, thinking regretfully of Ranma. <Well,>
she thought, trying unsuccessfully to ease her conscience, <he probably had it coming for
*something.*> She headed for the restroom to clean herself up.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Shampoo felt the touch of a rough, small hand on her forehead, and her eyes fluttered
open to see Cologne standing over her. She moaned softly, and looked around, recognizing the
shelter her great-grandmother had built for their stay in China. Above her, dust motes danced in
the orange light streaming from the setting sun through the window of the tiny thatched hut.
"<Well, great-grandchild,>" the crone whispered softly. "<It appears you have succeeded.
I must admit, I had my doubts that you would return from the mountain. You are one of very few
who have managed to reach the Ancient One.>"
"Shampoo do anything for Ranma," Shampoo replied in her broken Japanese. She could
speak Chinese, or even fluent Japanese if she wanted to, but she had found that people,including
her great-grandmother, tended to unconsciously underestimate her when she played dumb, and
Shampoo had a policy of exploiting every advantage she could get. She smiled weakly as she
struggled to a sitting position, then winced as the effects of her injuries made themselves known.
She blinked wearily and tried to stand up, but was restrained by Cologne's hand.
"Not just yet, child. Drink this first. It will make you feel better." Cologne handed
Shampoo a steaming cup, which she took and brought to her lips with unsteady hands. The
concoction was bitter -- most of great-grandmother's potions were -- but she didn't hesitate, and
swallowed it down obediently. She smiled as she immediately felt her old strength flooding
through her limbs.
"Thank you, great-grandmother." Her eyes began scanning the hut, searching for...
"Here it is, child," said Cologne, pressing the crystal vial into her hands. "I kept it safe for
you while you recovered."
Out of old habit, Shampoo's eyes narrowed. "You no take any while I sleep?" She knew
her grandmother was not above taking advantage of someone's weakness, even her own
grandchild's. Dragon blood was possessed of a most powerful magic, but she needed all of it,
every last drop, for what she had planned for Ranma.
Cologne's ancient wrinkled face soured into an angry scowl. "What do you take me for,
child? I still question the wisdom of you dabbling with such dark power. Anything bought with a
blood-price is not only dangerous, but often leads to grief."
Shampoo looked at the old woman, askance. "What you mean? This whole thing your
idea in first place. You say this work for sure."
"Dragon blood ensures the success of any spell," Cologne said levelly.
"Good! Nothing *else* work. No mushrooms, no passion spice... We try everything,
and still Ranma no leave violent pervert-girl, Akane."
Cologne glared at her great-granddaughter. "That's the point exactly, Shampoo. You've
given Akane the kiss of death, have you not? You should just kill the girl and get on with it.
Why are you so reluctant to do this the simple way? Why must we be reduced to meddling with
dark magics to snare son-in-law?"
Shampoo frowned. "Is not that simple," she said. And it wasn't. It was true that she had
given Akane the kiss of death when she first arrived in Japan, since she stood in the way of her
rightful claim to Ranma. But when it came down to the death-duel on the grounds of Furinkan
High School, she... couldn't do it. She couldn't kill Akane. Instead, she had used the Xi Fa Xiang
Gao Shiatsu technique to erase all memory of Ranma from Akane's mind. It didn't last long,
though. Akane had recovered without even receiving the proper cure, her subconscious feelings
for Ranma restoring her memory completely.
It was Shampoo's second failure. First, not being able to kill the female Ranma, and then
letting Akane live. Dishonored twice over. She still felt the weight of her great-grandmother's
disapproval over her negligence in duty. Yet... if she had a chance to do it over, she wouldn't
have done it differently. Shampoo had never killed anyone before. She knew she had it in her to
do it, but deep inside her soul, in a place she didn't like to admit existed, she didn't want to. For
an Amazon, these pangs of... mercy..? were an unforgivable weakness.
She couldn't tell Cologne the truth without incurring her wrath, so instead she told a half
truth. "No can kill Akane,"she said irritably. "I kill Akane, Ranma get angry and no spell strong
enough to bind Ranma to me. He stubborn man, he fight it to his death."
Cologne's scowl softened, and she chuckled mildly. "True enough. Son-in-law is rather...
strong-willed, to say the least."
Shampoo smiled wickedly. "Is part what make him strong man," she said, her eyes
gleaming. Then her smile faded into a worried frown. "This spell... it no make Ranma slave, yes?
Shampoo want Ranma with free mind." Shampoo wanted Ranma to look at her the way... the
way he looked at Akane all those times when she was in danger, or when he thought no one was
watching him watch her. That kind of look didn't come from an enslaved mind, no matter how
devout the slave might be. She had done many things to force Ranma to take her in his arms,
whether by blackmail or chemically altered food or other strange means. But although those
moments provided some satisfaction -- most of it from seeing Akane's jealousy -- she always felt
the pain deep inside her that yearned for Ranma to love her of his own freewill.
"The parameters of the spell are very clear," Cologne answered, looking at the tiny,
ancient scroll that lay on a small makeshift serving table. "No mind control is involved, unless you
desire it. The spell is designed to alter circumstance in favor of the caster according to the
instructions given. You must think on this carefully before you begin, or the spell could have
disastrous effects."
Shampoo nodded, pleased with Cologne's affirmation of her own understanding of the
spell, and caressed the vial of dragon blood in her hands. "No worry, great-grandmother.
Shampoo know exactly what instruction to give."
Cologne used her staff to snag the scroll off the table by the gold chain, and dangled it in
front of Shampoo's face. "Shall we begin, then?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma stood in front of the Neko-hanten, feeling baffled. The raman cafe was closed.
Shampoo really was gone, and she'd left without a word. There was no sign of the old ghoul
either... No, wait. He could see movement in the darkness behind the windows. Someone was in
there. He pressed his face against the glass and shielded his eyes with his hands to block out the
glare from the setting sun.
It was only Mousse. Ranma watched as the tall myopic Chinese boy walked through the
swinging doors that led to the kitchen, only to emerge a moment later with a broom and dust pan
and begin methodically sweeping the floor. Ranma squinted, trying to get a better look. There
was something about Mousse, about the way he was sweeping the floor. Then he caught a
glimpse of his face, and Ranma suddenly knew what was wrong with him. Mousse was
completely, totally bummed. His whole posture and attitude practically screamed depression.
Yup. Shampoo was gone, all right. She and the old ghoul had taken off somewhere and
left Mousse behind.
Ranma pounded on the window. "Hey, Mousse!" Mousse looked up, annoyed at being
interrupted in the middle of his melancholy. Ranma kept pounding. "Hey, let me in, I wanna ask
you something."
Mousse's annoyance turned to anger. "Ranma? Is that you? How dare you come here
looking for my darling Shampoo!" He stormed towards the door, and although Ranma couldn't
see it, he knew that the arsenal Mousse carried up the voluminous sleeves of his Chinese robe was
getting primed for launch.
He groaned. "Aw man, I'm *not* looking for Shampoo! I just wanted to ask you
where..." Ranma trailed off, as he realized that was *exactly* what he wanted to ask Mousse.
But not for the reasons that he assumed. "Aw, man..." he muttered, as Mousse threw open the
door and glared at him through lenses that put coke bottles to shame.
"Saotome, prepare to die!"
Ranma sighed. <Why is nothing ever easy? Oh well. I gotta remember to keep him
conscious, or he can't answer my questions.>
The battle took longer than usual, but only because Ranma's heart really wasn't in it. He
dodged mostly, allowing Mousse to wear himself out and inflict most of the usual property
damage with his missing blows, which only served to infuriate him even more.
After twenty minutes of fighting, or rather of Mousse fighting and Ranma dodging, the
Chinese boy stood panting. He glared at Ranma, who, he noticed to his chagrin and fury, was
barely winded. "You dishonorable cur! How dare you take this battle so lightly?" He threw up
his sleeves.
"Come on, Mousse," Ranma said, groaning in exasperation and ducking a bladed chain
that flew at his head. "I just wanna know where Sha... where the old ghoul went."
Ranma thought he'd covered for himself rather well, but Mousse was blind, not deaf, and
he caught the verbal slip. "Arrghhhh! It's not enough that you have three other fiancees, you must
come searching for my one true love as well?!" he shouted. "You'll pay for your insolence, you
enemy of women!" A barrage of chains, knives, wires, firecrackers, kitchen utensils, and other
miscellaneous items flew from the dimensionally deceiving confines of Mousse's sleeves.
Ranma slipped past them with practiced ease. "Hey, I'm not engaged to no one,
duck-boy!" he denied, also with practiced ease. "None of this mess was my idea!" He wove
through the attack and landed a fierce punch to the jaw, sending Mousse flying into the front of
the Neko-hanten, cracking plaster and concrete. Mousse slumped to the ground, dazed, his
arsenal falling limp from his sleeves, his glasses askew on his face. Ranma stood at a ready stance,
waiting for the Chinese boy to get up and resume the battle.
Instead, to his amazement, Mousse straightened his glasses and gave him a piercing look.
"What do you mean, you're not engaged to... Does this mean you're really not here to claim
Shampoo?"
Ranma staggered as if he'd been hit, he was so flabbergasted. None of his rivals had ever
listened to his protests of innocence before. "Of course not!" he yelled, then softened his tone,
hoping not to stir Mousse's anger again. "I just had this weird feeling all day that something bad
was gonna happen, that's all, and I think Shampoo might have something to do with it."
Mousse stood up and dusted himself off. His aggressive stance had evaporated, but he
still eyed Ranma with open suspicion. "What makes you say that?"
Ranma shrugged. "I dunno, just a feeling."
"Well that's strange, because I've had the same feeling too."
Ranma's jaw sagged. "Really?" As that piece of information registered, he slowly closed
his mouth and smiled. "Boy, that's a relief! I thought I must be going nuts or something."
Mousse scowled. "You *are* nuts, Saotome," he said. "But not about this. Know now
that the only reason you're still standing --" Ranma smirked openly, but Mousse ignored him. "--
is because I think we have a common concern. When Shampoo and Cologne left, they absolutely
refused to let me go with them."
"Hmph. That's never stopped you before. Why didn't you just follow them?"
"That's none of your concern," Mousse snapped. He certainly wasn't going to tell Ranma
the details of how he ecstatically and innocently ate the drugged raman Shampoo had prepared
just for him. He was out cold for a whole day. "The point is, I have no idea where they went, but
they were up to something." He flushed with a combination of embarrassment and anger.
"Actually, when you pounded on the window, I thought Shampoo'd finally managed to get that
passion spice to work on you."
It was Ranma's turn to scowl. "No way, man. I would rather eat Akane's cooking... uh,
well... er, maybe not, but I would rather eat anything else than trust something Shampoo tried to
feed me." He clapped a hand on Mousse's shoulder. "Believe me, Mousse, if I had my way,
Shampoo would be all yours."
Mousse pushed Ranma's hand from his shoulder, and turned away so that his rival
wouldn't see the look on his face. He suppressed the urge to attack Saotome with everything he
had, knowing that Ranma would just dodge and probably knock him into the wall again. Deep
down, he knew that Ranma wasn't trying to be cruel. How could Ranma possibly know how
much it hurt to be spurned by the woman he loved, while she pined after another man, a man who
never even gave her a second thought? Ranma didn't even know the *meaning* of the word love.
It was so infuriating, the way the girls flocked around him, when he hadn't done a thing to deserve
it. He simply *existed.* Even Akane, who vehemently denied any feelings for her fiancee, was
obviously in love with him.
He, on the other hand, loved Shampoo with every fiber of his being. And yet she
continually spurned him, throwing herself at a reluctant Ranma every chance she got because of
some stupid Amazon marriage law.
On top of that, now there was the unsettled feeling he shared with Ranma, and the fear
that Shampoo was somehow connected with it all.
"So, uh, what are we gonna do about it?" asked Ranma, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. He was more bothered than he cared to admit, knowing that Shampoo and Cologne
snuck off somewhere without letting anyone know what they were up to.
As if on cue, the postman walked by. "Hello, Mousse," he said, handing the boy a stack of
mail. "How's business?"
"Oh, well, we're closed at the moment. Shampoo and Cologne are... out of town, and I
can't run the place by myself."
"Ah." The postman smiled as he turned to go. "That explains the postcard then. See you
later."
"Postcard?" exclaimed Mousse and Ranma simultaneously as the postman walked off.
They looked at the stack of mail. Mousse began flipping through it, ignoring the bills and
catalogues for food and restaurant supplies. "Aha!" He pulled out a postcard that had a picture
of Chinese mountain landscape.
Ranma leaned over his shoulder, and frowned when he saw that it was written in Chinese.
"What does it say?"
"It's addressed to me!" Mousse was so excited, he was nearly jumping up and down.
"And it's from my darling Shampoo! They're in China!"
"China? What are they doing there? What does it say?"
"'Dear Mousse,'" he translated, "'Sorry about the sleeping powder in the raman--'"
"Sleeping powder, eh?" Ranma interrupted, grinning.
"Shut up, Saotome," growled Mousse, before continuing.
"'Great-grandmother and I are on a training mission in China, where she is teaching me
some special Amazon techniques as part of my training to become tribe matriarch. These
techniques are for women only, so we couldn't have you following us. We will be back on
Tuesday, so have the restaurant ready to open by then.'" Mousse stopped reading.
"That's it?" asked Ranma.
"Yes, of course," said Mousse, looking at the bottom of the card where Shampoo wrote
'Give my love to Ranma.' He hoped the sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for
Saotome to hear.
Ranma looked puzzled. "Well, if they're just on a training mission, I guess we're worrying
about nothing, eh? I mean, how much trouble can they cause us in China?"
Mousse sighed. "Not much. It's what they bring back from China that we should worry
about."
"Oh." Ranma grimaced. Most of the strange ingredients Cologne used in her mystical
concoctions came from China. "Well, they're not going to be back for another four days, so I
guess we don't have to worry about it until then."
Mousse nodded numbly. "I guess. Look, Ranma, I've got to get back to work. I have to
get the restaurant ready to open by next Tuesday." With that, he walked back into the
Neko-hanten and closed the door behind him, leaving Ranma on the outside staring at the door.
Ranma looked at the door, surprised at Mousse's sudden departure. The thought of
Akane running from him twice that same day came to his mind, and he sighed. <Why do I get the
feeling that everyone is running away from me?> he thought sadly.
-------------------------------------------------
Shampoo stood in the center of the hut, the scroll in one hand, the vial of dragon blood in
the other. Cologne watched in silence from a dark corner as Shampoo unstopped the vial and
began to pour the black fluid on the ground, forming an exact circle around her. If the spell was
to work, it had to be followed to exactness. Shampoo had paid the blood-price. She was the only
one who could use the Ancient One's gift. Were it not so, Cologne might have been tempted to
steal a portion of the dragon blood for herself because of the incredible magic it possessed,
guaranteeing the success of any spell.
The dragon blood trickled in an even stream from the vial to the ground, resting lightly on
the surface, gleaming blackly in the candlelight, forming a perfect circle around Shampoo. As the
last few drops fell from the mouth of the vial, completing the circle, the blood flared to life,
surrounding the girl in a cone of magical dark red aura.
Shampoo winced in fear, and hesitated. <No!> thought Cologne, not daring to speak
aloud. <Concentrate, girl! Read the scroll!>
Shampoo steadied herself and looked at the scroll. In a strong voice, she began chanting
in Chinese.
Cologne wilted with relief. That was a close one.
As the words rolled off her tongue, Shampoo fixed firmly in her mind her desires for the
spell. The time was fast approaching, the aura building in strength, swirling around her with
increasing fury. The roar was deafening. She could see great-grandmother through the raging
dark aura, looking at her with wide eyes.
Now! Shampoo threw her head back and called out her desire, the noise from the
ferocious magic that surrounded her drowning out the sound of her voice.
The pillar of red aura lit with a blinding flash, shot through the roof of the tiny hut leaving
a clean, smoldering hole, and was gone into the night sky.
Shampoo blinked in the sudden darkness. She realized she was shaking. "I... I do it?"
she asked.
Cologne looked at her in amazement. She nodded.
Shampoo smiled. "Ranma..." she whispered. And collapsed to the floor in a boneless
heap.
-------------------------------------------------
End Part One
