Ni- er, Leifker (nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu) presents...

     "Aoi-chan asked me an interesting question earlier today.  'Auntie 
Nabiki said she and Uncle Gel were going home to visit her family,' she 
said.  I confirmed her information, of course.
     
     Then she asked me, 'But I thought her home was here.'

     I smiled at this, as the question was intimate to me.  'Aoi-chan,' I 
said, pointing to Nabiki's house and store, 'the building over there is a 
house.  What makes it a home is when you leave a part of your heart 
there.  Nabiki spent most of her life in Tokyo with her father and 
sisters, and will always consider that place a home.' 

     My little one thought about this for a moment.  'Then where's my home?'

     My smile widened.  'Hopefully, your home is here, with me and 
Ucchan.  Fortunately for us, so is mine.'  I then held her close and 
hugged her with all the love a parent could, and let her go, knowing 
someday she would find a home of her own and leave."

     -from _Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Leader of the Niichieju_.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Home

Part the Third of the Sunrise Chronicles.

A work of anime fanfiction by Nicholas W. Leifker.

All relevant characters proplerty of Rumiko Takahashi.  All other 
characters property of me.  I beg pardon if the powers that be take 
offense.  I must ask that you not do anything with this story or any part 
of it without permission from the author.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Fall had come to the cursed place of Jusenkyo, bringing with it a 
slight nip to the air, as well as the beginnings of the decay normally 
associated with winter.  A hazy fog laid low over the land, calling to 
mind the ghosts that called the pools of sorrow home.  A light from the 
nearby hut shone across the place, a beacon for those unfortunate to 
discover the secrets beneath the water.

     A figure stood sentinel alone in the mist, her small form statuesque 
in its dignity.  She was old, venerable without being decrepid, with 
long silver hair rustling in the small breeze, and eyes shining with 
hard-earned wisdom.  A black cloak fit over her green robes to shield her 
from the cold.  The lady was perched precariously on top of a gnarled 
staff, silent as she stood watch over a modest grave.  Foreign visitors 
might be foolish enough to disturb her respects, but the locals knew 
better.  

     This was _Cologne_, after all, the hard, stern leader of the 
Niichieju.  Awakening her anger here was tantamount to suicide - or 
worse.  

     Her watch was a daily ritual now.  In some respects, she blamed 
herself for the tragedy.  If only she'd killed Blossom outright rather 
than exile...if only she'd intervened in the fight...

     If only.

     If only Ranma had never gone to Jusenkyo, or Herb had declined to 
bring the Chisuiton.  She knew better than to think like that.  Such past 
regrets were useless.  All she could do is mourn the past, and plan for 
the future.

     The old woman closed her eyes for a moment, and remembered...a young 
man, with passion burning like starlight and a warrior's heart to match.  
In a heartbeat, the face aged, but not the soul...somehow, the curses 
that had buffeted her own life had spared him, leaving him as youthful as 
ever, until...until this place handed him a curse, and an enemy to match.

     "Young pupils who envy the wisdom of the aged masters, the survivors 
of constant battles, will either die never knowing of the pain of 
bringing that wisdom to flower...or they will share in that pain as they 
join their ranks."  The masters' dilemma, a proverb from the early days 
of the village, rang through her head often now.  All that was left now 
were survivors...mourners twisted by grief and turned from their destined 
path.  She herself had endured the loss of nearly everyone around her, 
from husbands and siblings to old flames and great-granddaughters.  And 
now...

     She leapt from her perch in an elegant bound, and dried what few 
tears escaped.  There was precious little time to give to the dead, and 
the living needed far more help.

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

     Ranma may not have been born to work in a kitchen, but she 
definitely knew her way around it.  A pot simmered on the stove, 
providing a sweet aroma that called to empty stomachs.  Various herbs and 
spices sat open on a counter, as well as an old, thick notebook.  Other 
bowls sat ready nearby, waiting for their turn under the fire.

     It was almost a shame the young warrior wasn't cooking food.

     The heir to Cologne's knowledge was engaged in an important practice 
for her adopted role in life: herbal mixture and preparation.  She had 
not taken this part of her work seriously at first, as it reminded her a 
bit too much of chem classes in school.  Over time, though, she had come 
to accept it as an integral part of her training, and had even come to 
enjoy the quiet subtlety of the art.  

     The recipe she had chosen to start the day was a strange one, a 
difficult potion found in one of Cologne's notebooks.  The mandrake and 
siren's hair reminded her of the dreaded Formula 119, but there were 
other ingredients thrown in...ginseng...nightshade...witch hazel?  Ever 
curious, the warrior went to work, and mixed the formula to the letter.  
After that, she whipped up a batch of cold remedy, as she expected its 
usefulness over the next few weeks.

     Ranma had taken care to follow the instructions to the most exacting 
detail, but still couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.  Call 
it intuition (NOT feminine intuition, thank you very much), but she had a 
nagging feeling that the formula wasn't going to work.  Too many powerful 
herbs clashing together usually left a useless pile of goo...or a 
dangerously toxic pile of goo.  Nevertheless, if Cologne prepared it, 
there had to be a reason.  So, she waited for the solution to thicken and 
cool, then poured the gel into a waiting container.  The heir turned back 
to the table where the cold medicine waited, and picked up the bowl.  
She put a hand to the notebook to turn to the formula - and stopped.

     It wasn't the writing on the paper which had captured the young 
lady's attention.  She had read the words several times over, to lock the 
recipe in her mind.  Rather, it was the feel of the paper itself, an old 
sheet beginning to yellow with age.  There were small rough spots dotting 
the paper, as though either rain had fallen on the sheet...or tears had.

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

     Two Amazon blurs flew through the Chinese countryside as sunset 
threatened, their attacks forming an impossibly-beautiful ballet in the 
twilight.  Cologne and Ranma played a fun game of sparring cat-and-mouse, 
the elder retreating and flank-attacking to try to catch her young 
protege off-balance, while the younger, her eyes blindfolded, leapt in 
seemingly random patterns from place to place, never allowing the old 
woman a viable target for very long, and only occasionally went in for 
the attack.  Casual conversation drifted over the fields as the fight 
continued, as though the masters' battle was child's play to the pair.  

     "Hey, Hibachan."

     "Yes?"  The ancient warrior went in for the kill, only to meet empty 
air.

     "What's Formula 928?"

     The leader of the Niichieju Amazons seemed to freeze in midair for a 
moment.  Ranma seized the opportunity, countered, grabbed Cologne by the 
arm, and sent her flying.  The old woman got up and dusted herself off 
while Ranma removed her blindfold.

     "Did you say...Formula 928?"  A touch of nervous flutter entered 
Cologne's voice.  Ranma nodded.

     The venerable leader's shoulders seemed to droop for a moment.  She 
turned to the setting sun, her eyes viewing another time and place.

     "Ranma...I recommend you pour whatever you made in a safe place.  
The stuff's poison."

     "Then why was it in there?"

     Tears shimmered in the old woman's eyes.  "I...I didn't want to kill 
my own sister.  I had hoped...if I could modify the 119 to make it 
irreversible...she would leave, and not come back.  I...I failed."  Her 
eyes focused on her pupil.  "Ranma, I pray you never know a situation 
like that."  She sighed, and straightened up to her full height.

     "Ranma...I understand you were invited to a wedding."

     The warrior shrugged.  "Yeah.  One of Nabiki's adopted sisters is 
getting married - to Kuno, of all people.  I'm turning it down, of course."

     "Don't."

     Ranma blinked in mild surprise.  "Huh?"

     "It is important that you go to the wedding, and that your friends 
accompany you.  Your parents can take care of things here.  You see, you 
might not get another chance for a long time."

     Ranma put her hands to her hips. "What is it, Hibachan?"

     The old voice wavered to the point of breaking.  "Ranma...I'm dying."

     "What?" Ranma whispered, almost in disbelief.

     "Gotcha."  The old woman touched her staff to Ranma's forehead, 
sending her flying.  Ranma performed a neat flip, and landed on her feet.

     "Why you...you..."  Her voice trailed off as she noted Cologne's 
gaze.  "You're not kidding, are you?"

     She shook her head.  "Come on.  Let's go home."

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

     Night had long since fallen over the village, and most of its 
residents were now lost in dreams.  Silence reigned throughout most of 
the land, the only sounds to be heard the gentle rustling of animals.  
The lights of the little hamlet had all been snuffed out...save one, a 
beacon shining from Ucchan's Restaurant.

     Ukyou wasn't sure whose idea it was, only that it seemed strangely 
appropriate.  None of the women there could claim a normal 'girlhood', as 
two of them had lived as men and the third had been far too immersed in 
commerce to bother.  Still, she couldn't debate its enjoyment - or its 
usefulness.  Everyone had been so tense about the upcoming trip - 
especially Ranma, who had seemed almost untouchably distant of late.  It 
was almost as if her old friend was hiding something...

     Whoever came up with it, the slumber party was a great idea.  Truth 
or dare, strip poker...she never realized what she had missed growing up.
More importantly, the time allowed them to sit and talk, an all too rare 
occurance nowadays.  Between the three of them, their lives were so busy 
that sometimes even a pleasant "hello" was hard to come by.  Such 
intimate conversation, away from the hustle of life, was something to 
cherish.  

     "Food's ready!"

     She looked up at her onetime fiance.  Ranma walked out from behind 
the grill bearing okonomiyaki and sake on a tray, the results of an 
earlier 'dare'.  Ukyou couldn't help but smile; the waitress outfit was 
so fetching on her...The heir to the Niichieju leadership set the food on 
the table and sat down carefully, her face red from embarassment.

     "Oh, don't worry, Ranma," Nabiki piped.  "It's not like wearing a 
dress will stick you in the form."

     Ukyou shook her head.  Nabiki could be so tactless at times...She 
placed a reassuring hand on Ranma's shoulder before a retort could come.

     "Nabiki, what's the schedule for the trip?" she asked, changing the 
subject.

     The businesswoman shrugged.  "The only thing you two have to do is 
go to the wedding and reception on Friday.  Me, I'm going to be so busy 
that I'll have little time to enjoy myself."  She groaned slightly.  
"I am not looking forward to this."

     Ranma arched an eyebrow.  "Natsume and Kurumi?"  Nabiki nodded.

     Ranma put a hand to her friend's shoulder, and looked her in the 
eye.  "Nabiki...you've got to make up with them.  They're 
family...whether you like it or not."

     Nabiki shook her head sadly.  "I know.  I just wonder if they're 
willing to make up with me.  I did say some rather harsh things 
earlier..." 

     "All you can do is try.  You never know what'll happen unless you 
do." 

     Ukyou coughed, and took a sip of her sake.  "Just to let you know, 
Ranma, my father's coming to visit."

     Ranma began to choke on her sake.  "Y-Your father?"

     She shrugged.  "Yeah.  He's really interested in meeting you."  

     "I'll bet!  Let's see...the last time he saw me, I was six years 
old, male, and riding atop his primary source of income."  Ranma's gaze 
fixed on the okonomiyaki chef.  "How much have you told him?"

     "I told him everything that happened with Jusenkyo and with Herb.  I 
kinda had to after he found out I was living in China."  She cut a piece 
of slightly burned okonomiyaki, then winced as she put it in her mouth.  
"Oooh, that's bad."

     "Sorry.  I don't quite have your skill in that regard."

     Ukyou took a long sip of her sake, both to dull the taste lingering 
in her mouth and to give her a good shot of courage.  She then grabbed 
one of Ranma's hands and held it in a fierce grip.  

     "Ranma."

     "Yes?"  The warrior looked at her quizzically.

     "What's wrong?"

     Ranma put a piece of food in her mouth.  "Who said anything's 
wrong?" she mumbled, wearing her best poker face.

     A deadly look shot from the okonomiyaki chef.  "Don't give me that.  
I know you too well.  You've been so buried in your studies and training 
that you haven't even had time to stop in the restaurant.  Now please, 
Ranchan...tell me what's wrong."

     Ranma lowered her head, unable to meet those imploring eyes.  "I 
can't tell you...right now."

     "Whaddaya mean you can't tell me?!?"  Ukyou was livid.  Ranma stood 
up, and placed a hard hand on her shoulder.

     "There are things this village is not ready to know right now."  She 
softened, and managed an apologetic smile.  "If it makes you happy, I'll 
tell you on the plane.  Okay?"

     The chef relaxed from her meltdown.  "Okay.  You'd better...or that 
flight's going to have a lot more turbulence."

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

     "KIYAAH!!"  *thud*
     "KIYAAH!!"  *thud*   

     The cries of martial arts practice echoed through Nerima as Kurumi 
Tendo went about her morning training.  A cool fall wind blew through the 
courtyard as she punched the practice dummy, rustling her short, disheveled 
brown hair and cooling the heat of her exertions.  The practice was a 
comforting and cathartic one, an island of stability in a 
rapidly-changing and turbulent world.   Her sister's impending marriage 
brought with it preparations, arrangements, fittings...and the knowledge 
that the dojo was hers alone to run and take care of.  It felt...strange, 
frightening and exciting at the same time.  

     Then there was Nabiki, along with her friends.  Kurumi's "other" 
sister had a bitter streak a mile long, and was not pleased to find these 
"interlopers" taking her place.  She had hoped that she could make up 
with her prodigal sister; however, she feared that such a resolution was 
impossible.  The others didn't help matters much; if the stories were to 
be believed (and, were it not for everyone's insistence, she wouldn't 
have), Ranma had been promised to Akane, back when 'she' was a 'he' and 
Akane had been alive.  Ukyou, on the other hand, was a complete mystery, 
save that she and Akane both wanted Ranma and, as such, never got along.  

     "Gomen kudasai..."

     Kurumi snapped to attention at the arrival cry.  She got in one last 
punch for comfort, then went to greet her guests.  Her father was already 
there, looking dignified with his graying hair and best kimono.

     The first of the guests was the only one familiar to her, as they 
shared a name, if not blood.  Nabiki stood in front of her father for a 
moment, a surprisingly neutral expression on her face.  Her eyes still 
held a hint of the old frustrations, but seemed more nervous than angry 
now.  She walked up to her father and, after a moment's hesitation, 
hugged him.  "Hello...daddy."  Soun, quite naturally, returned the 
embrace, happy to have his daughter back once more.

     As father and daughter reunited, the other two visitors entered the 
house, and set down their bags.  The first seemed a relatively normal 
woman, with long brown hair and soft, laughing eyes.  A blue Chinese 
outfit covered the woman's trim frame, and she wore a bandolier with 
spatulas.  Kurumi had only seen a couple of photos of Ukyou Kuonji, but 
the clues identified the cook instantly.  

     The other stood calm at the entrance, her eyes glazed over in a bit 
of memory.  Her smooth, noble face was marred with a touch of sadness.  
She carried herself with a quiet, tragic dignity of one who has seen 
heaven and hell - and been cast out of both.  She had an athletic build 
clothed by a forest-green blouse and slacks.  Kurumi walked over to this 
redhead, and bowed.  

     "Hello.  My name's Kurumi.  Kurumi Tendo.  Am I to assume that 
you're Ranma Saotome?"

     The lady turned to Kurumi, and flashed a wry smile.  "I see my 
reputation precedes me.  This is Ukyou Kuonji," she said, gesturing to 
the chef next to her.

     Ukyou bowed to the martial artist.  "How do you do?"

     Kurumi smiled.  "We're fine.  Natsume went out shopping with Kasumi, 
so they won't be back until around noon."  She turned around and motioned 
for them to follow.  "I'll show you to your room, and then we can talk."

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

     A few minutes later, the group sat around the table, each of them 
nursing a cup of hot tea.  Silence hung ominously over the group, as the 
strains between Nerima's past and future made themselves evident.  Ever 
the gracious host, Kurumi meekly spoke to break the silence.  

     "So...how was your trip?"  The words shook with apprehension.  

     Nabiki shrugged.  "It was fine.  There weren't any problems at the 
airport, so..."

     "That's nice."

     Ranma felt the tension in the room, and knew the sisters needed to 
talk.  "Excuse me, Kurumi, but I'm rather stiff from the flight, so I'll 
be in the dojo working out.  Ukyou, Mr. Tendo?  Care to join me?"  The 
others agreed and left, leaving the two women alone.

     "Kurumi?"  Nabiki stared at her mug, unable to meet her sister's 
gaze.  

     "Yes?"

     "I...I'm sorry."

     Kurumi's eyes widened.  Nabiki managed a weak smile, then continued.

     "I'm sorry I didn't give you and Natsume a chance earlier.  When I 
came back for Kasumi's wedding, to find...it...it was like Dad and Kasumi 
had brought you in to...to replace Akane and me.  It made me so 
angry...and I took it out unfairly on you two."  She raised her head, to 
face her.  "I don't know if I'll ever be able to call you sister...but I 
was wondering if we could be friends."

     A weight seemed to disappear from their shoulders at Nabiki's 
confession.  Kurumi got up, and walked over to her sister.  "I 
guess...that'll be okay.  When we came here, everyone was so sad...we 
never stopped to think..."  She bit her lip, and extended a hand.  
"Friends?" 

     Nabiki grabbed the hand, and nodded.  "Friends."  She pulled her 
'friend' in, and gave her a fierce hug.  After a moment, she released the 
embrace, and looked her sister in the eye.  "Come on.  The others are 
waiting."  

     The two sisters walked hand-in-hand out of the house and over to the 
dojo.  Inside, Ukyou was sparring with Soun, and was surprisingly holding 
her own.  Soun had a strength advantage over her, but Ukyou had better 
speed and endurance.  The fight continued until Soun got a hit inseide 
Ukyou's defences, knocking the wind out of the young cook.  

     Soun wiped the sweat from his brow.  "Very good, Ukyou.  I haven't 
had a fight like that in ages."

     Ukyou bowed to the old master.  "Thank you."

     "Father, do you mind if I spar?  I'd like to see how good these 
people are."

     The three Niichieju just looked at each other.  "Okay, 
Kurumi...which one of us would you like to fight?" Nabiki asked.

     "Ranma."  Kurumi pointed to the redhead.

     The warrior in question raised an eyebrow.  "Are you sure?"  Kurumi 
nodded.

     "Okay..." Ranma moved out into the center of the dojo, and took a 
non-combative position opposite Kurumi.  "Ready?"

     The short brunette nodded.  "Are you?"

     "Always."

     Throughout the years that Kurumi Tendo had called the dojo home, she 
had always heard the rumors of the changed warrior she faced.  How he had 
been fated to turn into a female with cold water, and the later tragedy 
that took his manhood away for good, as well as one Kurumi would have 
called sister.  How he faced down foe after foe, refusing to give up or 
give in until he was victorious.  How he went toe-to-toe with Happousai 
with disturbing frequency, and managed to hold his own in the battles.  
In many ways, Ranma was the shadow that loomed over her, the ideal she 
felt obligated to live up to.

     None of this, however, prepared her for battle with this urban 
legend on Nerima's streets.  She charged in with a basic attack first, to 
test the woman's legendary speed.  All she met was empty air.

     "Care to try again?" came a soprano voice behind her.

     "Grrr..."  She tried a roundhouse kick, hoping it would catch her in 
mid-move.  No luck.

     No Ranma, either.  She looked around, at the smirking audience, the 
decorations on the walls -

     "You know, it might help if you thought in more than two 
dimensions." 

     She looked up.  Ranma was perched there nonchalantly, as though it 
were perfectly normal for her to hang on the ceiling.    

     "Why you..." Kurumi crouched, then leapt up, to knock the warrior 
from her perch.  Ranma leapt down and touched a point on Kurumi's back.  
The young lady felt a small bit of electricity in her legs, then stared 
in horror as they collapsed underneath her when she landed.

     "Don't worry, it's only a Shiatsu point."  Ranma poked another spot, 
and life flowed into her legs once again.  "Give up?"

     Kurumi slumped her shoulders.  "Hai..." Ranma picked up the young 
woman and looked her in the eye.

     "Not bad.  I'd put your skill at slightly less than Nabiki's right 
now.  It might be a good idea if you sparred with her next."

     Kurumi took the hint, and readied herself for the next match.

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

     An hour later, the group was back at the table, in much the same way 
they were before.  This time, though, the conversation flowed freely, 
without the chains of grudges.

     "Ranma, where did you learn speed like that?  I mean...one second, 
you were in front of me, the next behind me, the next on the ceiling..." 

     The former heir to the Tendo Dojo sipped her tea, and looked at its 
current proprietor.  "A number of places.  Some of it Pop taught me when 
I was young, while Hiba- Cologne taught me the rest."

     "I wish I could learn speed like that," Kurumi whispered.

     The warrior's face darkened for a moment.  "No, you don't.  Trust 
me." 

     "Huh?"

     Ukyou put a hand to her forehead.  Ranma could be so exasperating 
sometimes... "What Ranma is saying is that he probably wouldn't have 
trained so hard if...if it weren't for what happened to him."

     "Oh."  Kurumi took in a long sip, then set her mug down. 

     "Ranma, what's your home like?"

     "My home?"  Ranma looked surprised by the question.

     "China.  From what I've heard, it seems so...different."

     Ranma smiled gently.  "It's definitely different...and beautiful.  
There's a life, an energy to the land, something missing from Tokyo.  The 
air smells sweet and pure, without all the pollution from the city.  And 
the scenery...the sunrise from the top of Mount Phoenix is
just breathtaking, with the light dancing across the cliff faces...it's
almost like watching the earth being reborn."  She shook her head.  
"Still...it doesn't measure up to home in my eyes."

     Kurumi blinked in surprise.  "But I thought..."

     "We're back!"  A cry came from the front entrance.  A moment later, 
Kasumi and Natsume walked in, carrying several bundles.

     Natsume, the elder of the daughters trained by Happousai and 
adopted by Soun Tendo, was tall and well-formed, with a lithe body to 
rival any model's.  Long brown tresses ran down to her waist, and were 
held in place by a ponytail.  Her soft, mysterious brown eyes were 
inscrutable, hiding whatever secrets lay beneath, while the face that 
surrounded them was round and without blemish.  She sat down her packages 
upon seeing the guests, and bowed in greeting.

     To Ranma's eyes, Kasumi looked much improved since their parting 
five years previous.  She had gained a bit of weight, the results of a 
recent pregnancy, but still looked as flattering as ever.  The 
cheerfulness destroyed with the disintegration of her family was returned 
to her, as she now had a family of her own to take care of.  She sat down 
most of her packages, and placed the most important one, a baby carrier, 
on the table, sparking the interest of all there.

     "Is...is this little Akane?" Nabiki asked, with hesitation and joy. 

     "Uh-huh."  The mother picked up her child, and held her close.  
"She'll be four months old tomorrow."  She looked up at Ranma, sitting 
there with a strange, tense look on her face.  "Ranma?  Would you like to 
hold her?"

     The young warrior looked nervous for a moment.  "Er...no.  I'm not 
that good with children."

     "Nonsense!  Nabiki's told me all about your healing work with 
Cologne."  She looked back to the infant, and held her out carefully.  
"Here you go..."

     Ranma accepted and held the child naturally, with a skill born of 
years of practice.  The warrior held her close to her chest, and cradled 
her.  Akane-chan, apparantly hungry, grabbed at the blouse with her 
hands and mouth, seeking to feed on what's inside.  

     "Kasumi, I think it's time for her feeding," Ranma whispered, in awe 
at the life in her arms.

     Kasumi looked at her child's actions, and laughed.  "Oh, she's 
always hungry.  I'll feed her in a little bit."

     "Hungry all the time, huh?  Just like..." Her words stopped as the 
flood of memory roared unbidden through her.  As she stared at the wisps 
of black hair on the child's head, the wide-eyes innocence in the dark 
eyes...Ranma couldn't help but think of another Akane, whose name was 
given in memory to this child, the next generation and hope for the 
family...

     Tears fell from the Amazon's eyes, though even she could not tell if 
they were from joy or sorrow.

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

     Ukyou Kuonji fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair as she looked at 
her watch for the sixth time in as many minutes.  She had been rather 
apprehensive about the visit, but knew the reunion could not be avoided.  
The last time she had seen her father, she had been a youngster of 
sixteen, a girl living behind a boy's mask.  That had been six years ago. 

     Now...the woman looked down at herself, and blinked once at the 
changes wrought by the years.  An undeniably feminine body was hers to 
show, its curved elegance flattered by the sky-blue evening dress that 
covered it.  So different...

     Her thoughts quite naturally drifted over to her friend and 
comrade-in-arms.  Ranma was so changed from the six-year-old boy she had 
played with and the sixteen-year-old youth she had fallen in love with.  
The man was gone physically, trapped somewhere inside the (equally 
beautiful) woman next to her, yet she could still see _him_ reaching for 
her, yearning for release from behind those eyes of deep blue.  Still,
there were parts of him that were gone forever, vanished in a flower of 
fire.  She only hoped there was enough of him left when the time of 
release came. 

     She looked up at the entrance...and gasped.  Her hand reached 
unconsciously for Ranma's, seeking an anchor to hold on to.  A burly man 
entered the establishment slowly, carefully.  His powerful frame was 
cloaked beneath a conservative business suit, a pleasant change from the 
okonomiyaki garb he usually wore.  Upon seeing his daughter, Hikaru 
Kuonji walked swiftly to her table.  She stood up and embraced her father.

     "Ukyou!  How are you?"  He stared at his child, astounded at the 
beauty before him.  "You...you look beautiful, daughter."

     "Thanks, Dad."  She gestured over to her eating companion.  
"Dad...this is Ranma Saotome."

     The martial artist stood up, and bowed deeply.  "Greetings, Mr. 
Kuonji."  

     Mr. Kuonji blinked for a moment, his mind trying to reconcile the 
boy he knew with the woman before him.  "Hello," he said, bowing 
hastily.  The group then sat down, ordered their meals, and began to 
talk.  

     "So...Ranma.  What are your responsibilities in this...Jotkesuzoku 
village?"

     The warrior shrugged.  "I am the heir to the tribe's leadership.  
This involves acting as the local herbalist and 'doctor', serving as part 
of the law enforcement, acting as liason to the government authorities, 
and helping to direct tribal meetings."

     "I see..." the old man purred.  "And my Ukyou?  Your plans for her?"

     "Father!"

     "It's okay, Ucchan."  Ranma put a hand to her friend's shoulder.  
"Sir...right now, any ideas of relationships are on hold until either I 
am able to return to my original form...or until such a return is 
impossible."

     "And if it is found to be impossible...what then?"

     "Father, that's enough!"  Ukyou's face was turning purple with rage. 

     "I'm just trying to see whether she'll stay by you...or if she'll 
leave you, like her father."

     This last comment, said with such venom, sent Ranma's hair 
bristling.  "No offense, sir, but I am most definitely not my father's 
son." 

     "Really?  I never would have-"

     "FATHER!!"  Ukyou was shaking, desperate to hold onto what little 
temper she had left.  She took a deep breath to calm herself, then locked 
eyes with Ranma.  "Ranma, could you please leave us for a moment?  My 
father and I have certain things to discuss."

     The warrior nodded silently, then left for the ladies' room while 
father and daughter glared daggers at each other.  Ukyou took in another 
deep breath, and spoke softly.

     "Father, I want you to listen to me for a minute or two.  I don't 
want you to say anything until I'm done, because I'm about ready to 
explode, and I might not get another chance."

     "Dad, do you remember the day when Mr. Saotome left me behind?  I 
remember...I remember putting on that boy's suit.  It was ugly and 
ill-fitting, but you said I had to wear it, that I was no longer a girl 
'cause Ranma left.  I cried myself to sleep that night, not because I 
had been left behind, but because...I had lost everything I was and 
everything I had.  I...I was no longer me."

     "About five years ago, this psychopath tore through Nerima.  
He...stuck Ranma in his girl body, and killed his...killed his fiancee 
and friends."

     "'His'?  Have you taken a good look at 'him' lately?"

     The look Ukyou flashed at her father could melt steel, and the 
whisper from her lips was louder than any shout.  "He's more man than 
you'll ever be, father.  At least he plans on solving his problems, 
rather than hiding them behind a suit.  It won't be until he's leading 
the Niichieju, but it will be soon."

     "Anyway, when that happened...Ranma went through the same thing I 
had.  He had lost everthing he had, everything he was...except me."

     "Father, he won't leave me again.  He spoke the truth before: he is 
not his father's son, and refuses to make the same mistakes Genma made.  
Also, I will never leave him.  I've stared death in the face to be with 
him, as he has done for me.  The...bond between us is too strong to 
break, a friendship beyond words or bodies.  Don't _ever_ try to come 
between us again.  Got that?"

     The old cook met Ukyou's hard gaze.  "My question still hasn't been 
answered, daughter."

     A wry smile formed on her painted lips.  "Dad...where I come from, a 
sex change is a cool swim away."  Her eyebrow arched slightly.  "Besides, 
you always wanted a son..."

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

     Nabiki Tendo stood stoically in the graveyard, her dark eyes sad, 
but lacking in tears.  A gentle wind tugged at her long hair, whipping 
the strands into her face, while a smart black dress flowed loosely 
around her.  In one hand was a simple bucket, and a single rose was in 
the other.  With a swift motion, she grabbed the ladle, dipped it in, 
and poured the water over the cool granite.  The gentle washing done, she 
sat her bucket down and carefully knelt before the stone.  She placed the 
scarlet beauty at its base.  

     "Hey, sis.  Long time no see."  

     She turned for a moment to look at the sky above her.  A cloudy 
afternoon overall, with hints of sunlight peeking from behind the clouds, 
brilliant fire tempered by the cool sky.  The wind blew in gusts around 
her, stirring the drying leaves around her.  Still, through it all, the 
place held a stillness, a rock-hard illusion of peace from the outside 
world.  

     "I...I'm sorry I haven't been back as often to visit.  You are my 
sister, after all...I've been keeping busy in the village.  In between 
training and running my store, I have so little time to just...get away."

     "Kurumi and I have made up - at least for now.  When we first met, 
they made me so angry...It was like Dad and Kasumi had gone out and 
adopted them to replace...to replace us.  I...they make Daddy happy, 
though, so...I decided to make up.  They are family, after all..."

     "Akane, I miss you so much.  I...do you remember the talks we had 
when we were kids?  Before Kuno and his stupid promises, before Ranma and 
his curse and fiancees, before Herb..."

     "I'm so lonely there.  Ranma and Ukyou have their own lives there, 
so I don't get to talk to them often.  The Saotomes help a lot...but they 
can't understand some things.  The villagers are alright, I guess...but 
they're so strange sometimes.  There's nobody with whom I can 
just...talk." 

     "Sometimes, when I look up at the stars...I think about what...what 
might have been.  I could have gone off to college, you could be running 
the dojo with Ranma...then reality hits.  I see your...your body, 
after...I see Ranma, living day-to-day in a body that isn't his...I..."

     Angry tears began to flow from the young woman's eyes.  "Akane, by 
all I hold holy...I will see this through...for all of us."

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

     The first rays of dawn spread out over the horizon, announcing to 
all the coming of day.  The light entered the room through the window, 
illuminating its inside wall and stirring one of its temporary residents 
out of her torpor.  The young redhead stared at the half-shadowed ceiling, 
and smiled.  

     For a moment, Ranma could almost imagine the past few years a dream, 
a fantasy born out of her darkest nightmares.  Familiar walls, familiar 
ceiling...she rolled onto her side, half-expecting to see a panda 
snoozing there.  A mild disappointment crept in as she noticed only 
Nabiki, snoring away the morning.  Ukyou slept away on her other side, 
murmuring softly in her dreams.

     Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Ranma quietly got up, 
stepped over Ukyou, and dressed in blue.  She walked down the stairs, out 
of the house, and toward the dojo to find...

     Natsume and Kurumi were engaged in a morning practice, sweat 
already glistening off of their bodies from the workout.  While not in 
the class of the best Niichieju, they were quite skilled, and would have 
held their own in old Nerima, before Herb's coming.  The familiarity 
between the two fighters was clearly evident, as the punches and kicks 
were so fluidly blocked as to be choreographed.  The two girls noticed 
the newcomer, and stopped their battles.  

     "Good morning, Ranma," Kurumi said cheerfully.  Natsume, the more 
reserved of the two, simply bowed.  

     Ranma walked into the all-too-familiar dojo with a smile, and 
bowed.  "Good morning.  It's nice to know the old place is in such 
diligent hands."  

     The sisters blushed at the compliment, then acknowledged their 
thanks.  Ranma looked around at the walls, lost in memory.

     "This place always was a favorite of mine.  Akane and I would often 
spar in here to keep in training, as well as work out our frustrations."  

     Kurumi smiled.  "Funny...I heard that Akane didn't care where she 
was when she worked out her frustrations - only that you be on the 
receiving end."

     Ranma chuckled softly.  "Yeah...as Kasumi once told me, 'She's 
really a very sweet girl.  She's just hopelessly violent.'  Still, when 
she let her guard down..."

     The elder of the sisters nodded.  "Tachi's the same way.  When we 
first met, he was spouting so much poetry I thought he wrote the stuff 
for a living.  Finally, I got so tired of it that I told him to shut up.  
Amazingly, he did.  We got to talking...and by the time it was over, both 
of us were crying.  Things just went from there."  

     She turned to face the morning sky.  "He's anxious about meeting 
you, by the way.  He apparantly has a few things he wants to say to you 
before tonight.  Before you ask, yes, he knows about your curse."

     "That doesn't help matters much.  The last time I saw him, his 
supposedly 'crazy' sister was forcibly carrying him away."

     "You can't avoid him forever.  You are going to the wedding, after 
all."

     "I know..." Dark thoughts raced through the warrior's mind, then 
calmed.  She then looked at the Tendos critically.    

     "Kurumi...I noticed in out little bout that you have some pretty 
decent speed on you.  Do you mind if I show the two of you a technique of 
mine?"  The two girls, eager to learn, nodded vigorously.  She took 
them out of the dojo and over to the carp pond.

     "The technique I am about to show you is called 'Kashuu Tenshin 
Amaguriken'."  The warrior and (now) teacher looked down at the fish, drew 
in a deep breath...and smiled.

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

     An hour, two campfires, and five dead carp later, the three women 
went to the bath to freshen up.  Ranma paid it little mind, as she had 
seen enough of the feminine body to not mind it, but was inwardly 
grateful that the others also didn't mind.  The ladies nonchalantly 
undressed, scrubbed, and headed into the tub.

     "What was Tachi like when you knew him?"

     Ranma looked up at the ceiling and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.  
"Kuno was...learning honor back then."

     "Learning honor?"  This was not quite the response the sisters had 
expected from their guest.  Ranma glanced at the two, then returned to 
her memories.  

     "Honor doesn't just come to a person.  It is built up over time and 
experience...and loss.  In the early stages, a person will usually act 
somewhat haughty and aloof as they try to 'act' honorable, then will calm 
down as they develop the things that support honor: love for self, 
family, and friends, and the courage to defend that love to the death, if 
need be.  To give you an idea, 'Tachi' had proclaimed his love for both 
Akane and the mysterious 'pigtailed girl', and considered it honorable to 
try to wrest both of them from the clutches of the 'vile sorceror' 
Saotome."

     She looked over to Natsume.  "From what I've heard from everyone, 
Tatewaki Kuno has changed a lot since those days, probably due to your 
influence.  He's always had the courage within him.  It took love - your 
love - to show him what true honor is."

     "It's strange to hear you say that," Natsume whispered.  "When Tachi 
learned the truth about you, he...well, I think I'd better let him 
explain, at breakfast."

     The bath water rippled as Ranma sat up, startled.  "Breakfast?"

     Kurumi smiled mischievously.  "Oh, didn't we tell you?  Tachi and 
Kodachi are coming over.  In fact, they should be here any minute now.  
Come on, Natsume, your beloved awaits."  They rose from the bath, and 
started to dry themselves off.  "Are you coming, Ranma?"

     "Hai..." The changed woman rose from the water, and joined the 
others in preparing for the confrontation.  

     The two representatives of clan Kuno were waiting at the table when 
the girls entered, as were the other family members and guests.  Upon 
seeing them, the two stood up, erect and proud.

     Kodachi Kuno's appearance had changed little since the carefree days 
of her youth.  The former gymnast still wore her hair in a long ponytail, 
and still wore her preferred color of black, as demonstrated by the sable 
dress she wore.  The madness in her eyes was gone, though, presumably 
disappeared the day she learned of her beloved's 'departure'.  

     Tatewaki looked as severe in adulthood as he had in high school.  A 
smart business suit fit snugly over his muscular frame, and his face was 
the intense, stoic mask it had been, if a bit more angular.  His eyes 
danced, though, as he beheld his love Natsume.  He coughed once, turned 
to Ranma, and bowed in full humility and apology.  His sister quickly 
followed suit.

     "Saotome Ranma, my sister and I would like to apologize for our 
dishonorable actions.  What we did in our ignorance was inexcusable, and 
beneath the actions of an honorable warrior.  We ask for your pardon, and 
put ourselves at your command to atone for our sin."

     Ranma blinked.  An apology was not entirely unexpected, but the 
full, formal apology was something she wasn't prepared for.  Unsure of 
what else to do, the young woman gave them a full forty-five degree bow, 
then smiled.  

     "Kuno Tatewaki, your clan honors me with your apology.  I do accept 
it, on one condition."

     All eyes turned to Ranma in surprise.  Her smile broadened, and 
almost glowed with happiness.  

     "You shall love Natsume as she loves you, and you must never be 
afraid to show her that love."

     Tatewaki brought his love close to him, and held her to his chest.  
"I will, Ranma."  He let go, brought her chin up gently, and kissed her 
with the gentleness and sensitivity of one who knew of the fragility of 
life all too well.  After what seemed an eternity, the couple broke off 
their kiss, and noticed the wide-eyed looks from the others.  Natsume 
coughed, then managed a wan smile.

     "So...what's for breakfast?"

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

     Ukyou knelt by the cold gray stone and placed a red rose at its 
base, to join the one Nabiki left earlier.  She clapped her hands 
together and muttered a small prayer, then opened her eyes.  

     "Hello, Akane.  I...hope you don't mind me visiting."

     "I came by to say...I'm sorry.  I know I wasn't very kind to you 
back in the old days, but...I thought we could have been friends if it 
weren't for our rivalry."

     "Akane...do you ever think about those days?  Things seemed so 
innocent then.  All of our fights, our loves, our petty rivalries...it 
all seems so silly now, but back then...that was our life."

     She bit her lip for a moment, nervous about the coming words.  
"Before we left, Cologne had a long talk with Ranchan about...certain 
things.  Apparantly she's dying, and she wants him to be ready for the 
job...and the cure."

     "Akane, I know this sounds strange, but...I was wondering if I could 
have your blessing to start a relationship with Ranchan, once he's back.  
To be honest, he still loves you, and mourns your death everyday, just as 
I mourn his...curse everyday.  If you're listening, I know I can't 
replace you...only be there for him."

     The young chef stood up from her position.  "Akane, I gotta go.  
Kasumi wants me to look after A- after her daughter, and I need to take 
Ranchan a few places before the wedding."

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

     "I can't believe this..."

     "Take it easy, Ranchan, you look fine.  Besides, you need to look 
good for the wedding."

     "I guess..."

     Ranma looked at her face in the restaurant window, and scowled at 
the hairstyle and makeup put on in the name of beauty.  Her pigtail was 
undone, and flowers were intertwined into her now-styled scarlet locks.  
The lipstick and liner accentuated the scowl of her face quite nicely, 
and the mascara and eyeshadow enhanced the darkness of her stare.  She 
looked back at her eating companion, and smiled grimly.

     The okonomiyaki cook, her friend and confidante, normally looked 
femininely beautiful; her own session at the beauty parlor left her 
drop-dead gorgeous.  Her hair had been trimmed and styled in a way 
similar to Ranma's, and the makeup served to show off the beautiful face 
beneath.  She held Akane Ono, Kasumi's child, in her arms, and a 
cheesecloth was draped over her shoulder to protect her from any milky 
residue.  The chef picked up Ranma's chin with her free hand, and moved 
her head from side to side.  

     "Gotta admit, Ranchan, you do look good.  I'm jealous."

     The former man was clearly unamused by the comment.  "Please, 
Ucchan.  I'm not in the mood to hear it."  

     "Okay, okay..."  Ukyou raised her hand in mock surrender.

     Ranma lowered her gaze.  "I'm sorry, Ucchan.  It's just...this visit 
has opened up a few old wounds, and I'm not exactly prepared to deal with 
them right now."

     Ukyou nodded.  "I understand perfectly.  Have you noticed where 
we're eating?"

     Ranma looked around.  The entrance had changed, as had the counter 
and chairs, but the stucco walls still held a few dents and cracks here 
and there, a legacy from its days as...

     "Ucchan's.  I don't believe how this place has changed."

     "Tell me about it."  Thr proprietor frowned.  "I spent so much time 
here...and now it's as though I never was."

     "Nothing is forgotten," Ranma murmured.

     "Huh?"

     "Oh, sorry.  Something Hibachan taught me."  The heir to the 
Niichieju leadership gave a wry smile to her friend.  

     "For whatever time we are on this earth, we make echoes of where 
we've been and what we've done, which last long after we're gone.  Akane 
has been dead for five years now, but her echoes are still felt, in the 
name the child bears, in the patched up holes in the Tendo home and dojo, 
and in the actions we take, either consciously or unconsciously, in her 
memory."  

     "Niichieju wisdom?"  Ukyou arched an eyebrow.

     Ranma shook her head.  "I don't think so.  To be honest, I'm not 
sure where she got it."

     A squeal from the child brought the philosophy to a halt, soon 
followed by an all-too-familiar odor.  Ukyou smiled, and handed the child 
to her.  "Your turn..."

     Ranma groaned, took the child and baby bag, and headed back to the 
restroom.

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

     Private demons are strange, shadowy creatures in the recesses of a 
human soul.  For years they skulk in the darkness, far from the mental 
traffic flying through.  Once called by some small event, though, they 
tear through the mind, shattering the walls of comfort without regard to 
time, place, or circumstance.

     It is perhaps no small degree of irony that one of Ranma's demons 
came to visit on this night, the night of the wedding...in the form of 
a small piece of cream-colored silk.  

     The once-male warrior had not had an easy day.  Beauty parlors and 
shopping trips were not things a person of her nature cared for very 
much.  This, though...this was a bit more personal.

     The clothes before her were, ironically enough, equivalent and 
opposite to her own self.  The outer clothing was primarily masculine in 
style, even with a feminine cut: white dress shirt, gray western-style 
slacks, and sport coat.  A maroon ribbon took the place of a tie, though, 
and black flats sat waiting instead of dress shoes.  The undergarments, 
on the other hand, were most definitely meant for a woman: brassiere, 
hose...and silk panties, currently held in an angry grip.

     When Cologne had offered her the Niichieju leadership, she knew full 
well that it would be a long time before the chance to strike would 
come and, as such, made appropriate adjustments.  In order to make it 
through, she had to try to become the 'man among men' her parents always 
wanted her to be, even if only in spirit.  She vowed that day never to 
let that man inside of her disappear, no matter what, knowing that each 
coming day of her life would chip away at that.  If she ever let go, if 
she ever let herself become a woman in spirit...then Herb would truly 
have won.  

     Fortunately, such matters proved a bit easier than she had thought.  
The women of the Niichieju were largely androgynous by Japanese standars, 
and did not consider her behavior unusual; moreover, they knew of her 
past, and understood her reluctance in romantic matters.  The decision to 
wear a bra had been a necessary, but agonizing one: Her chest had 
blossomed out to the point that such restraints were necessary, but she 
feared that she was giving up a part of 'himself' in doing so.  Besides 
that, though, she almost never wore what could be considered 'feminine' 
clothing, except when required to by honor or circumstance.  

     The woman let out a small sigh.  There was no getting around it; 
boxers would show from behind the slacks, and the ankles and feet would 
look strange without the hose.  She sat down and began to dress, her 
teeth clenched as she donned the more offensive articles.  

     A few minutes later, the young woman looked in the mirror at 
herself...and shuddered.  The beautiful creature staring back at her was 
a far cry from what she wanted to be...and, yet, the mirror wasn't lying. 
The curves of her form were most definitely a woman's, even if the jacket 
subdued the more obvious parts.  The face still held the firm, resolute 
look of a man, but that seemed overshadowed as the makeup and hair 
brought out her sensuous features.  Truly a beauty...a beauty the object 
of any man's desire.

     The warrior stood up straight, picked up her shoes, and headed down 
to the living area, her face a deceptive mask of calm.  After all, it 
wouldn't do to appear troubled, especially now.  Her resolve was rewarded 
by the sight that greeted her.

     Ukyou paced slowly in the main room, looking exquisite in a red 
evening dress.  Baby Akane was in her arms, cooing softly as the young 
woman gently rocked her.  Ranma looked at the two together...and smiled.  
The picture seemed so natural...if she ever returned to normal... The 
chef glanced over to her, and smiled.

     "Ranchan, you look...nice," Ukyou said diplomatically.  She gestured 
over to the exit with her hand.  "We'd better go.  We're late as it is."

     The two women left the now-empty house, locked the door behind them, 
and walked out into the cool air of early evening.  Ukyou held the baby 
close to her, and whispered a small lullaby to the child to keep her at 
peace.  The warrior was glad for the song; it provided a calming comfort 
to the scene, a comfort necessary in her old haunting grounds.  

     The long walk to the Kuno manor held many ghosts, shades of the life 
Ranma once possessed.  The fences upon which the youth ran from place to 
place seemed empty as the adult viewed them from the safety of concrete.  
They passed Furinkan High School, sight of so many battles...of which she 
and her companion were among the few survivors.  A short distance away 
revealed the former Nekohanten, where she had spent many an evening in 
relatively pleasant company - and where she had changed for the last 
time, as a powerful blast from a mysterious stranger sent him tumbling 
into a water bucket.

     The manor itself seemed unusually subdued for the occasion, as 
though the voice of the clan had quieted.  The white ribbons and 
crysanthemums lining the palace were the only major decorations in the 
courtyard, save the platform prepared for the new couple.  Family and 
friends of the young couple all stood a respectful distance from the 
platform, electricity seeming to generate from the crowd as they awaited 
the words of love.

     Natsume Tendo, honored child of her clan, knelt on the platform, her 
head bowed, traditional tsunokashi draped over her head, her body in the 
traditional kneeling position of a Japanese bride.   A fine, ornately 
detailed white kimono was wrapped around her, and rippled as the soft 
wind blew over it.  Though she firmly maintained the position of a humble 
bride, her hands quivered slightly, and her lips formed an almost 
imperceptible smile.

     To her right was her husband-to-be, the former Blue Thunder, 
Tatewaki Kuno.  A black silk wedding outfit fit over his strong form, and 
suited the kendoist well.  He knelt there, strong, proud, but with far 
less of the arrogance of his youth.  The man had grown beyond the petty 
squabblings of children, and now lived the life of honor he was destined 
to.

     The ceremony itself was a beautiful sight.  Kuno had always had a 
gift for poetry; it took the painful lessons of life to give the words 
focus, and the fire of true love to give them inspiration.

     "I declare, to those friends and loved ones present before us, that 
I do love Natsume Tendo, and dedicate my life to her.  While there is 
life in this weak form, I will live by her side, to comfort her and 
provide for her as best as this simple man is able."  He turned to his 
love, his dark eyes softening at her presence.  "I...know I may not be 
the most worthy of men, but I will love you...if you will have me."

     The young woman turned to him, every passionate emotion blooming in 
her eyes.  "And I declare my love for Tatewaki, lion of my heart.  I 
promise to be the best wife I can be, to provide a peaceful home for him, 
to comfort him when the cold night presses down on him, and to raise our 
children to be fine, upstanding, and an honor to the Kuno clan.  I may 
not be the most capable of women, but I will do my best...and I do love 
you, Tachi, with every fiber of my being and every ounce of my soul."

     Kasumi approached the couple, bearing three bowls of sake on a tray 
to seal the covenant.  The young couple sipped from each bowl, passionate 
oaths flowing from them with each sip.  Ranma stared wide-eyed at the 
couple, softly biting her lip to keep from screaming.  These two had 
found each other in the bitter cold of the world, and discovered a warmth 
of love...a warmth once offered her, foolishly denied, and now gone for 
all time.

     An incoherent, high-pitched squeal shook the warrior from her 
darkness, and she involuntarily turned to its source.  Ukyou stood next 
to her, small, desperate whisperings coming forth to quiet the child.  
Ranma took the baby bag from the ground, and slung it over her shoulder.  

     "Ucchan, she's just alarmed by the crowd."  She looked to the exit.  
"Let me have her.  I'll take her for a little walk."  She delicately 
accepted the baby from Ukyou's grasp and, after making sure it wasn't any 
other problem with the child, walked out of the manor and into the 
night.  Little Akane, away from the confusing, strange crowd, began to 
calm as Ranma's slow, deliberate steps reassured her.

     Ranma froze in reverence and awe as they reached their destination - 
the graveyard.  Memories flooded through her mind of a cold winter 
morning so long ago, memories so vivid she could almost taste again the 
ice in the air.  Almost mechanically, the woman walked over to the a 
certain grave, and carefully knelt down.  Her eyes misted over, tears 
threatening, as she read the name on the stone.

     Tendo Akane.

     The memories came fast and furious now, episodes of her past life, 
from the first moment she had set foot in the dojo to the horrible 
instant Herb wiped it all away.  The tears flowed freely now, 
unrestricted by any social or personal restraints.  Here, in this place
alone in the world, she could cry, or scream, or just sit and talk, as 
this place would always accept her for who she was - no matter what.

     Here she was home. 

     The baby in her arms, the namesake of her love and loss, cooed 
softly, and grabbed at Ranma's jacket.  The woman looked down at the 
bright child, so worthy of her name, and tried to wipe away tears.  

     "Hey, little one.  Would you like to hear a story?"

     The baby attempted a smile.  Ranma looked out into the ghosts of 
the night, and began her tale.

     "Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, there lived...a powerful 
magician, skilled in the mysterious arts of his trade...a warrior maid, 
beautiful of face, gifted with the strength of twenty...a wild man, 
cloaked in honor, doomed to forever wander the earth...a scarlet 
princess, regal in appearance, born with a heart of fire...and her 
betrothed, a handsome prince, transformed by dark sorcery into a young 
girl..."

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

     Ukyou stood at the cemetery's gate, keeping vigil over her once and 
(hopefully) future love.  Her heart wrenched at the pain that stormed in 
Ranma's eyes as the woman approached the grave, then soared with hope as 
she told her tale to the next generation.

     She bit her lip, lost in admiration.  The warrior at the grave 
combined the best of both worlds...those same hands capable of starting 
hurricanes and shattering steel had the gentleness and honor to care for 
the most fragile and helpless of beings with little effort.  The chef put 
her hands to her lips and blew a kiss into the wind - the only one she 
could give until the time of judgement.

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

     Two days later, Ranma, Ukyou, and Nabiki stood proud at Akane's 
grave, soldiers honoring one of their own.  All three women laid a flower 
at the site, then knelt down.  Ranma was the first to speak.  

     "Akane, I thought telling you 'I love you' was the hardest thing I 
could ever do.  I...I was wrong.  Akane...things are heating up in China, 
and I don't know when I'll be back.  I...I wish I didn't have to go, but 
everything I've done is about to come to a head.  Hibachan...Cologne's 
dying, and the village is going to need me for my expertice.  I guess 
what I'm trying to say is...goodbye.  I...I will always hold you in my 
heart."  She wiped an errant tear away, and drew in a ragged breath.

     Ukyou was next to speak, her soothing alto quietly drifting through 
the air.  "Akane, if...if you're watching over us, please...see us home.  
Ranma's been like this too long."  The warrior in question raised an 
eyebrow.  "Please...if you can help us...please do so."  She muttered 
something about not being good with this sort of thing, then turned to 
Nabiki.

     The businesswoman looked to the sky, then her surroundings, as 
though she could see the spirits around her.  "Sis, I...I'll be back 
every so often, to see how things are.  The village keeps me busy, but I 
can afford to leave on occasion."  She placed a hand to her lips, and 
pressed the kiss left there into the cold stone.  "I miss you, sis."  She 
got to her feet, quickly followed by the others.

     Ranma looked to her friends, a serious expression on her face.  "You 
two go on ahead.  I need to spend a moment alone with Ryouga."

     Murmurs of past times filled Ukyou's head as she walked back to the 
taxi.  She watched as Ranma paid her respects, then walked out to join 
them.  

     "Ranchan...are we ever going to be able to come back?" she asked, in 
hushed tones.

     The warrior nodded.  "One day...when fate has been kind to us."  She 
turned Ukyou around by the shoulders, gave her a friendly hug, and turned 
away...to tomorrow.

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

Epilogue

     Mouthwash hated mysteries.  As such, she vowed to solve any she came 
across.

     The summons itself was a strange one, a weird anonymous letter of 
challenge.  She shrugged it off at first; what fool would dare challenge 
her, this year's tournament champion?  Still, her curiosity was piqued, 
and it was a challenge, after all...so she came here, to meet it 
head-on.  At the very least, it could give her some practice...

     The campsite itself only provided more questions for her to solve.  
The tent set up contained only a bedroll for sleeping, nothing more.  
The campfire smouldered, indicating that the traveler had left only 
recently.  The few other pieces of equipment were of local manufacture, 
suggesting that the person was from the area - most likely her own 
village.    

     "Hello, Mouthwash."

     The lady in question jumped, taken by surprise by the deep, sonorous 
voice, while the owner stepped out of the bushes.  The man was huge, 
towering to a height of nearly seven feet, with long black hair flowing 
to his waist and an angular, chiseled face the desire of any woman, and 
envy of any man.  Despite his height, the warrior moved with a catlike 
grace, each step demonstrating to her the lean, compact musculature 
within.  The man stared at her through slitted eyes, and his face was a 
mask of darkness.

     The hairs on Mouthwash's neck stood on end as she felt the warrior's 
hostility.  "Who are you?  Why have you called me here?"

     "Perhaps I desire a little woman to serve my every need..." the man 
hissed, without smiling.  "As it happens, I have come to challenge you, 
for your honor as a warrior."

     "My WHAT?!?  How dare you speak to me of honor!  You send me secret 
messages, skulk in the dark like some base Ninja...You haven't even told 
me your name!  A true warrior does not hide his intentions."

     A smile cracked on the mystery man's face.  "I have made my 
intentions plain, and will forever do so.  That hypocrite Cologne taught 
me that lesson well enough.  As for my name, it is already known to 
you."  He readied himself into a fighting stance.  "Now, little one, it 
is time to see if you are truly capable of calling yourself a Niichieju." 

     By this time, the teenager was seeing red.  "As you wish," she spat 
out, and readied herself for the fight.

     The battle, regrettably, was not going her way.  Each punch and kick 
seemed to be countered with ease, and the few specialty moves she had 
learned were proving ineffective.  Meanwhile this...man...was simply 
waiting, not using any attacks worthy of the classification, only feints 
and soft punches.  Until...

     "Hiryuu Shouten Ha!!"

     The warrior maid's eyes widened, shocked beyond belief, as the man 
launched one of the highly-restricted moves of the Niichieju.  Horror 
crept in as the hurricane-force winds picked her up, then tossed her 
around like a rag doll.  Questions raced in the precious seconds between 
takeoff and landing, as she searched for some understanding.

     Who is this man?  He knows the dragon punch...could he be Musk?  No, 
he knows the village too well.  He doesn't look like anyone I know, 
though, except he does kinda look like...look like...ohno...

     The girl landed with a dull thud, silencing her thoughts under the 
inky blackness.  The man put her body into a more relaxing position, 
produced a note from his shirt, and planted it on the sleeping warrior.

     "Don't worry, little one.  You'll understand it all in time.  Others 
will be here in a little while, though they might not be happy to see 
you."  The dark one tightened a strap on his pack.  "Enjoy your exile..."

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

Hello.

Interesting work, this.  The title comes from some thing Ken Burns said 
once in an interview concerning his documentary, "Baseball", something 
about English being one of the few languages that distinguishes between 
"house" (a place where a person lives) and "home" (a place where a person 
belongs).  The question is an intimate one to me as well, as I feel no 
place where I truly belong: the dorm is a dorm, and my parents' house is 
my parents' house, but there is no "home".  

As for the writing, I found it to be a fascinating experience, as I rarely 
write new works at school.  Also, I recorded a few notes of my progress 
as I wrote, including music listened to while writing.

The first draft took two weeks to write, from November 16 to the 30th.  
Work on the second draft started on December 3, and continued through the 
12th.  

Music list (feel free to laugh):
_Classic Queen_, Queen
Billboard Top Hits: 1983
Ranma 1/2 Doco First, Doco Second
Rocky IV soundtrack (Excellent training montage)
_Don't Look Back_, Boston
_Empire_, Queensryche
Cats: Original London Cast Recording
Les Miserables: Highlights from the Complete Symphonic Cast Recording
_Joyride_, Roxette
_The Division Bell_, Pink Floyd
_Serious Hits...Live_, Phil Collins
_Living Years_, Mike + the Mechanics

Part 4, the last chapter of the Sunrise Chronicles ;_; , will be written 
over the Christmas holiday and posted sometime in late January.

Thanks...

To Rumiko Takahashi (We're not worthy, we're not worthy...)

To all those who have sent in their comments about this series, including 
Chris Willmore, Stormwalker, Mike Loader, David Bateson, and so many 
others that I am not capable of remembering then all.

To all those who read, write, and dare to dream.

Finally, I would like to add that I will no longer be posting under the 
name of "Nightelf". 

Nicholas Leifker
nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu
http://http.tamu.edu:8000/~nwl9354
December 13, 1996