Leifker (nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu) presents...
"It is with great sorrow that I report the passing of Cologne, for
so long the leader of our people, after a lengthy illness. Her wisdom
and guidance will be sorely missed. I only pray I may live up to her
example.
My name is Ranma Saotome, and I have been chosen to succeed her as
chieftain of the Niichieju. I was not born into the tribe (indeed, I was
not born a great many things), but was selected to the position six years
ago, after Cologne's great-granddaughter and sole heir, Shampoo, perished
in battle. I had fought alongside Shampoo in several battles, and
distinguished myself in the elder's eyes enough to warrant her
controversial decision.
Before I go any further, I feel it necessary to bring to light
several details of my varied past. I was born in the Nerima ward of
Tokyo, Japan, the only son of Nodoka and Genma Saotome, and was
originally expected to carry on my family's school of martial arts, the
Musebetsu Kaketou Ryuu (an honor I hold jointly with my Niichieju
responsibilities). For the first fifteen years of my life I lived as a
man, and traveled around Japan to seek perfection in the art.
In my sixteenth year of life, the first seeds of change were
planted, as my father and I journeyed to China to train. We happened
upon an old training ground known as 'Jusenkyo', but knew nothing of the
magic the place held. We both soon discovered it, though, as the strange
water there weaved its spells around us. The pools transformed my father
into a giant panda, and changed me into the form I now wear - that of a
female."
-- Beginning of _Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Chieftain of the
Niichieju_.
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Leifker presents...
Succession
The fourth and final part of the Sunrise Chronicles
A work of anime fanfiction by Nicholas W. Leifker
All relevant characters property of Rumiko Takahashi. All other
characters property of me. All rights reserved. I must ask that you not
do anything with any part of this work without the author's permission.
Note: this story takes place six years after the events portrayed in
"Sunrise Chronicles pt. 1" and two years before the events in "Sunrise".
(sniff)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What a night..."
Ranma Saotome hurriedly opened the door to the chieftain's house,
then closed it just as quickly to shut out the elements. The young
healer reached a tired hand up to unclasp her cloak, allowing the dark
garment to fall to the floor. She leaned against the door for a moment,
giving her tired bones the slightest bit of respite before moving on.
The job of village healer (and that of leader, though she had yet to
hold that title) was not an easy one, as it dealt intimately with two
primal, opposite concerns of human existence: life and death. Earlier
tonight, she had relished in the work of the former, as she gave
assistance to a young Amazon giving birth. Trying work, but the
rewards - the hearty cry of the infant, the glow of joy in the mother's
eyes - these far outweighed the toil involved.
Unfortunately, with life must come its ending, and it was now time
for her to deal with this other aspect. She climbed the stairs slowly, a
creak echoing through the house with each step. Her feet shuffled down
the hallway to the furthest door, which she opened.
"So...*hack*...my ungrateful pupil decided to come and visit me
after all."
Ranma involuntarily stiffened, disheartened at the sight of the
once-proud warrior. Cologne shivered under the many blankets, her small
body experiencing the early stages of final breakdown. Great pain showed
in her old eyes, but they shone with happiness in Ranma's presence. The
heir looked at the subtle clues - the ragged breath, the shaking in her
gnarled hands, the irregular throbbing of her temple - and knew she would
probably not see the dawn. Ranma sat down next to the bed, and brushed a
few locks of hair from the old woman's face. Cologne looked at her
successor, then glanced around to the others in the room.
"Leave us. I must speak with...*cough*...with Ranma alone." The few
there filed out of the room, leaving the wisdom of the village alone.
"So...how did it go?"
Ranma shrugged, in a vain attempt to appear calm. "It went well.
Lin had a beautiful baby girl, with her mother's eyes." She bit her
thumbnail for a moment. "They...they named her after you, you know."
Cologne nodded, and smiled weakly. "Good. It's nice to
*hack,cough*...know that life goes on. Ranma...*cough*...will you spend
one last night with an old woman?"
"L-Last night? Come on, Hibachan, you're not going to die," Ranma
lied.
The smile widened. "Your own answer tells...*cough*...tells me
otherwise. Don't worry, Ranma. I've...*hack*...seen the signs just as
you have. My time has come, and I'm...*cough*...I'm ready."
The old woman looked downward, at her decaying self. "Ranma...I
want no secrets, no bitterness between us. Not now. When...*hack*...my
mother died, I was so...*cough*...so angry...I want none of that. You
already have enough anger."
Sadness glittered in the elder's eyes. "Ranma...about you and
Shampoo...*hack,cough*...I'm sorry..."
"Don't be." Ranma grasped one of her hands, and gave a reassuring
squeeze. "You did what you thought was best, for both the village and
your great-granddaughter. When the time comes, I may be called to do the
same."
Cologne grinned, grateful for her pupil's understanding.
"That...that you may. Try not to...*cough*...make the same mistakes I
made, okay?"
"Okay." Ranma tried to will her tears back, without much success.
"Hibachan...I have a confession."
"Oh?" An eyebrow arched on the elder's forehead.
Slender hands trembled as the memories of that night returned to
her. "That day...when you came back for my answer...I was going to
decline, until..."
"Until Ukyou and...*hack*...Nabiki showed up?" The dying woman
looked positively amused.
"Yeah..."
"I know. Nabiki...she overheard...and I knew she'd...*cough*...tell
Ukyou. I also knew...you'd decline without...someone else coming."
"How did you know?"
The old warrior's smile beamed through the pain. "My child...my
friend. You have...*cough*...always placed your friends...above yourself.
It's called love, Ranma." She tried to reach her other hand over to
Ranma's, without success. "Thank you for...*cough*...your love."
Ranma was left at a loss for words. "I...Hibachan..."
"Do you...*cough*...regret your decision?"
"No," the warrior answered, without hesitation. "I don't regret it
for an instant. When you made the offer, I was a wreck." The tears
started to flow freely. "You...you showed me what it was like to live
again. You took a broken man, and...and made an Amazon out of her."
"I'm glad." Cologne winced suddenly, and reached out to her
protege. "Ranma...*cough*...see me home..."
Ranma bit her lip, and climbed into the bed alongside her. She
cradled the dying body tightly in her arms. "Hai. I...I will."
*****************************************************************************
Above Nerima's streets and alleyways, a time-honored tradition
revealed itself one more time, as a pair of martial artists faced each
other on its rooftops.
The first of these warriors was a young woman in her mid-twenties,
though her petite stature suggested a far younger age. Short brown hair
stuck out in odd directions, while a red ribbon sought to rein the unruly
mass in. A round, unblemished face grinned madly at her opponent, with
laughing brown eyes almost mocking her. Her small, muscular frame was
readied in a combat stance, waiting for her adversary to make the first
move.
The adversary in question stood ready in a stance modified for
wielding bonbori. Though she was taller than the first, she was also
much younger, a warrior maid in her mid-teens. Long bluish-purple
hair was tied behind her into a ponytail, and she stared back at her
teacher with predator's eyes. Unlike the others in the area, she wore
Chinese clothing, a red blouse and slacks that flattered her fit,
artfully-curved frame. She smiled a small, wry grin, then leapt in for
the attack.
Thrust, parry, counter, block...the ballet performed one more time,
two performers at the highest of skill levels facing off against each
other in combat. Both clearly knew the importance of patience and
strategy, neither offering a viable target to the other...until...
"Kiyaah!" Kurumi, the first of the combatants, ducked an unwise
thrust from Mouthwash, and kicked the weapon's shaft, snapping the weapon
in two. Mouthwash, retreating to safe ground, simply tossed the handle
away with typical Amazon arrogance.
"Care to try that again, Kurumi?" Mouthwash purred.
The proprietor of the Tendo Dojo nodded. "Why not?" She instantly
rushed into the attack, feinted a Chestnut Fist, then took Mouthwash by
surprise with a foot to the stomach. Mouthwash winced in pain, and tried
to catch her breath.
"Not bad for an 'outsider', eh, Mouthwash?" Kurumi grinned.
The exiled Amazon nodded in agreement. "Not bad. I'm almost sorry
to leave here."
Kurumi's shoulders drooped at the news. "So...you've decided to go
back?"
"With Cologne's death, my exile is no longer enforced. Ranma will
admit me back."
A wry grin formed on the woman's face. "Considering she's one of
the people who sent you here..."
"She didn't have a choice. That sex-changing witch Blossom framed
me good. It was either leave or die. At the same time, they knew I had
been framed and felt I needed to be taken care of." Mouthwash sighed,
wishing for something she couldn't have. "Still...I will miss
Kentaro..."
"Well, you can visit, can't you?" Kurumi's eyes danced. "Either
that or drag him along by the hair..."
The two girls laughed, with a comfort born of intimate friendship.
****************************************************************************
Ranran stared uneasily at the lonely hut in front of her. She
brushed a lock of indigo hair from her face, and wondered for the
hundredth time if she was doing the right thing by coming. To be caught
here...with her...courted exile, or death. Still, she owed this woman,
exile or no exile, a blood debt, and she held far too much honor to
dismiss it. With a firmness born of strong conviction, she walked up to
the door.
"Who is it?" a feminine voice answered.
"A friend."
The door creaked open, causing Ranran's heart to fall at the sight.
The warrior on the other side bore little resemblance to the teenaged
superstar she had once fought with. The intensity in her stare, that
leader's fire that made her a legend, was now vanished behind a cold gray
stare. The long sable hair, her trademark locks, had been shorn into a
shoulder-length mass. Scars decorated the warrior's skin, each one
capable of telling of some small horror in her life. She smiled grimly,
and gracefully waved a hand back. "Won't you come in?"
"Of course." The Niichieju woman stepped inside the little shack,
and took a seat.
"So...Cologne is dead or dying," Blossom whispered tonelessly.
"Er...yes. How did you know?"
The smile widened only slightly. "Your anxiety."
Ranran glanced down at the floor for a moment. "Blossom...I know
you and Ranma haven't gotten along, but please...don't do anything rash.
The village needs warriors like you."
Blossom sobered, and seemed to look sad for a moment. She placed an
iron hand on the nervous Amazon's shoulder. "My apologies, old friend,
but I prefer to die on my feet than live on my knees."
"Oh no...please, Blossom...I'm sure I could convince Ranma to-"
"No." The whisper was a harsh one, so full of previously
unreleased anguish. "I must follow my own path, Ranran, even if...even
if I am destroyed by it." She managed a brave smile for her guest, and
pulled out a large bottle.
"Come, my wild friend. Let us speak of happier times, and look with
some hope to the coming days." Her eyebrow arched slightly. "Tell
me...how is your sister doing? I heard about her marriage..."
****************************************************************************
The sole heir to Cologne's wisdom stood alone on a platform near the
center of the village, her muscular form proud and dignified as she found
comfort in the sunset's beauty. The dying orb descended slowly between
peaks, its fire appearing as a keyhole in the door to the sky. It seemed
to hang in the position for a moment, its determined brilliance the only
fraction of a once-unyielding light, until even this faded away, leaving
only the strange muted hues of the afterglow.
The time had come to say goodbye.
Ranma gripped the staff, for eons the symbol of spiritual and
healing guidance in the village, and swung it gracefully toward the gong
next to her. At its ringing, the people who called themselves Niichieju
walked silently toward the call, each one carrying an ornate, well-used
candle. A new platform had been erected in the square, a relatively
small table of hay and grass draped with an ornate forest-green cloth -
the funeral pyre of a Niichieju chieftain.
The heir apparant to the position glanced out to the crowd around
the pyre, and swallowed hard. These people, who had for so long looked
to Cologne for guidance, turned their eyes to her for the next move.
She quietly cleared her throat, and tried to sound dignified through her
sadness.
"Niichieju, we are gathered here on this night to pay our final
respects to the first warrior of our people, the honored Cologne." Her
voice started to break, the loss within cracking her professional
demeanor. "While fate did not honor her with...with a warrior's death,
Cologne proved herself to us by living a warrior's life. In battle, she
acted with a speed and ferocity unparalleled among our ranks; in peace,
she planned for the future with a calm, decisive certainty born of
infinite wisdom. Now it is time...time to wish her spirit a pleasant
journey."
She stood in front of a small log, prepared with a small notch. As
was the custom, Ranma placed the point of her staff in the notch, then
stood there in strange focus. A moment later, she snatched the staff
away, an instant before the now-blazing log could consume the old wood.
"This fire is one that must be shared among us. We women have
always looked to each other for support, as we depend on the skills and
wisdom of our fellow Niichieju for our very survival. Come, share in
Cologne's fire." She stepped back, allowing the others in the community
to light their candles. The entire square soon glowed with candle-flame,
save the darkest place of all.
Ranma grasped an unlit torch that sat next to the pyre, and stuck
its proper end into the flame. The warrior held the torch aloft, like a
general leading soldiers into battle, her image almost surreal in the
flickering light.
"Honored ancestor, valorous warrior, may you fare well in your
spirit journeys. We...will sorely miss your fire and wisdom." With
these final words, she tossed the torch onto the pyre.
The oil-treated platform caught fire almost immediately, surrounding
the body on top of it in yellow-white flame. The old warrior's face
looked a strange, haunting mask with the flames dancing over it, the
now-empty shell slowly dissolving to bone from the searing heat. Ranma
stood there, transfixed, unable to move her eyes from this
angel...devil...witch. The path the departed warrior had followed was
never an easy or pleasant one...but usually ended up being the right one.
And now the path was hers to take, with all the rights and
responsibilities therein. Cologne had not only shaped the chieftain's
role in her decades in the position; it had shaped her, into a creature
both beautiful and terrible. She handled situations with a cerebral,
delicate touch, but could in an instant reveal the claws beneath the
velvet gloves. For better or worse, it had molded her into a leader.
Would she suffer the same fate - or could she mold the position into
something brighter?
She prayed, with what little innocence remained within her, that she
could.
A hand, gentle as a cool breeze, touched her on the shoulder. Ranma
turned around to face Mei Ling, one of the village's elders.
"I apologize, Ranma, for disturbing your meditations. However, it
is necessary that the matriarchs speak with you...before the time of
succession tomorrow."
Ranma nodded, then bowed to the aged warrior. "As you wish." She
then turned back to the cremation, allowing her mind to be entranced by
the ghostly firelight.
****************************************************************************
"This meeting of the clan matriarchs will come to order."
Ranma looked around, frowning, at the spacious, though spartan,
room. Around her were the leaders of each major family of the tribe -
true warrior women, with hawklike eyes and a cool demeanor about them
that suggested supreme confidence. After a long, uncomfortable silence,
an old warrior stood up and spoke in grave tones.
"Healer Ranma, we have some concerns about your possible leadership,
and we feel that these should be dealt with before we begin the ceremony.
You have served this village with distinction and zeal over the past six
years, and proven yourself an honor both to Cologne and our people.
However, this does not change the fact that you were born a man, and wish
to return to the form as soon as possible."
Ranma nodded sagely. "What is it you ask of me?"
The old woman looked down at her feet for a moment. "We do not ask
that you never return to your birth form. Such a request would be unfair
of any being. My own sister fell into the changing waters long ago, and
her trials showed me the horrors of living in an unnatural form, even one
so blessed as an Amazon's."
"What we do ask of you we hope you will not find unacceptable. We
ask, first and foremost, that you live and act as a woman in your roles
of chieftain and healer, and that you consider yourself such in all
matters save marriage and progeny. Moreover, we ask that you not seek a
total cure to your condition, and that you not strike against Herb until
a favorable situation arises."
The young Niichieju chewed thoughtfully on a thumbnail. "The last
one I will agree to wholeheartily. I do not wish to see the needless
loss of life simply because of my reckless haste. In the other
matters...the first is perhaps a bit harsh and unnecessary. I will
probably spend much of my time in public as a woman anyway, as the
village expects it of me. To abandon my Amazon self would not only
dishonor myself, but my mentor, my family, and my friends. As for the
condition of not seeking a cure, it is superfluous. No cure has ever
been found."
A broad-shouldered warrior in the back smiled, and chuckled softly.
"No offense, Ranma, but you have shown an affinity for making possible
the impossible."
"None taken. However, I am not the only one affected in such a
case. There are currently sixty-seven people known to have Jusenkyo
curses, of which eight are members of this village. Am I to ignore their
pleas for help if asked?"
The others murmured softly to one another. "Of course not. Are we
to assume, then, that you will not accept a total cure?"
"Of course. You have my word on it."
"And the rest?"
Ranma frowned. That was precisely what they wanted: her word of
honor, her assurance that a man will never lead them. She took in a
slow, deep breath, then began, darkness building with each word.
"I swear, on my honor as a Niichieju, that I will not strike at Lord
Herb, the Musk Prince, until a favorable situation arises. I also swear
that I will never accept a total cure to the Jusenkyo waters. Should I
find myself so changed, I will immediately travel to Jusenkyo and immerse
myself in the Spring of Drowned Woman, thereby returning me to my proper
Amazon form. I will also live as a female in a majority of the
day-to-day operations of the village, and will be a female at all
official functions and all battles. The Niichieju are to consider me a
warrior woman in all respects of the village save marriage and progeny
should I regain the ability to change into a man, and I shall act
according to that tenet. Should I violate this oath, I ask that my
Niichieju sisters kill me for my dishonor." She took out a small knife
and cut her arm, allowing the blood to drip onto the floor. "I seal this
bond with my own life blood, before the matriarchs, the leaders of our
people." The glare she fixed on the crowd would have done her mentor
proud. "Is that sufficient?" she growled.
The aged Mei Ling, the one who had invited her, stood up and bowed.
"I think that will be sufficient, Ranma. Now, if you will excuse us, we
have a tribal meeting to assemble. We will allow you time to calm
yourself, as we understand the feelings behind your oath." She gestured
to her fellow matriarchs, who slowly filed out of the room.
The selected chieftain collapsed into a chair, as her hands tried to
rub the frustration from her features. She had not been surprised by the
elders' requests; indeed, she had fully expected their demands.
Still...there was no getting around what she had done. The Chisuiton's
curse had locked her in physical womanhood; the oath so recently uttered
had done the same to her in name. There was so little left of the man
she was, only spirit dying with each passing day and crystal memories
shattering one by one in life's storms. This oath, in its way more
powerful than the cursed bucket, had taken away a part of 'him'...and may
have signed 'his' death warrant.
The woman took a moment to steel herself, then placed a hand over
her cut. There was little time to waste; the assembly would begin in
moments, and she knew the challenges that awaited her. She bandaged the
wound, checked her clothing for bloodstains, and walked out into the open
air.
The elders stood waiting on the platform, their faces serious and
stern. They nodded at Ranma's coming, and made room for the youngest of
matriarchs. The gong was rung, summoning the people to the square. Mei,
often called the conscience of the elders, raised her hand to silence the
crowd.
"Fellow warriors, we have assembled this day to decide Cologne's
successor." She threw a sidelong glance at a stoic Ranma. "After much
debate, we, the matriarchs of the Niichieju tribe, have decided to accept
Cologne's choice of successor and nominate Ranma Saotome for the
position." A small murmuring spread among the warriors there. "Is there
anyone here who challenges her right to the leadership?"
"I challenge _him_."
The crowd parted, to reveal a grim reaper clothed in black, with
ice-gray eyes tinged with anger. Blossom walked through the impromptu
row with catlike steps toward the platform. "I declare Ranma unfit for
the position due to his birth gender."
"Whether either of us likes it or not, Blossom, we are both women in
the eyes of our peers. I accept your challenge." The redhead stepped
off of the platform, while the crowd made room for the coming battle.
Mei stepped between the two warriors.
"I trust the two of you know the rules. This fight continues until
one person yields, is unconscious, or dead." The old eyes looked sad for
a moment. "Begin."
Blossom charged in with a shockingly fast punch-kick combination
that would send the best fighters reeling. Ranma blocked the first,
dodged the second, then moved back to relative safety.
"Not bad, Blossom. Not bad at all." She swept the pigtail from her
shoulder.
"It's not wise to mock me, Ranma." The once-exiled warrior advanced
for another attack, only to meet empty air.
"But it's so easy to do..." Ranma grinned.
"I warned you..." Blossom leapt at the warrior and launched a
barrage of punches, then...
"Shishi Houkoudan!"
The smaller version of the depression blast flared out from
Blossom's hands, engulfing the champion in white-hot fire. Thinking her
battle won, the dark warrior allowed herself the luxury of a smile.
A haymaker to her jaw let her know it was a luxury she could
ill-afford. Ranma passed through the flames unharmed, and chose style
over effect in her response. The punch sent the brunette flying to the
edges of the crowd.
"A small lesson for you, Blossom: Never throw a Shishi Houkoudan
against me. I've lived through ki-blasts that make that look like a
firecracker. Not only that, but you're not doing it quite right." Her
face darkened. "A Shishi Houkoudan can be refined, improved...like
this!" A similar blast to the one before, though far more powerful than
Blossom's, knocked the poor woman to her knees. Blood oozed from her
mouth as she stood up, knees shaking.
Ranma smelled victory in the air. "Hey, Blossom. Wanna see a fun
trick?"
The cold warrior was silent.
"Kashuu Tenshin Amaguriken!" Ranma charged in, hands blurring as
the punches came flying.
Blossom coughed, a failed attempt at a laugh. "That old trick?
Heh. I know...know...WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?!?" The warrior
stood unmoving, save the horror painted on her face.
Ranma shrugged. "Oh, that? Just your typical Amaguriken...with a
nice Shiatsu point thrown in." She touched the warrior's sleep spot
before anything else could happen, causing the giantess to collapse to
the ground.
"Mei Ling? Care to do the honors?"
The matriarch examined Blossom's still form critically, then stood
back up. "By knockout, the winner of the challenge is Ranma." She bowed
to the fiery redhead. "Congratulations...Chieftain."
Ranma, quite naturally, returned the pleasantries. "Thank you,
Matriarch." She pulled out a small vial, marked '110', from her pocket.
"Mei Ling? Could you please bring me some hot water? I have some hair
styling to do..."
*****************************************************************************
The celebration that followed at Ucchan's was a lively one, if a tad
reserved. Sake and other potent potables flowed freely from their
various containers, sending those blessed to share in the festivities
into inebriated bliss. While most of the Amazons had their reservations
about placing a former man in the highest role, they joined in the
celebration, as there were few doubts concerning her abilities or
loyalties. Unfortunately, Ranma's ascention was coupled with sadness,
and the emptiness of Cologne's and Blossom's absence was felt among the
crowd.
Night had long since fallen by the time the guest of honor stood up
to raise her glass. Her beautiful soprano voice, softened by the weight
of life, shook from alcohol's effects. "My friends, I must thank you for
an excellent celebration. It has been a long time since I have enjoyed
myself like this...but, regrettably, duty calls, and I have much to look
over tonight."
"Oh, come on, Ranchan..." Ukyou slurred, "can't you relax at least
once?"
Ranma fixed a smiling glare on her childhood friend. "No.
Cologne's work is my work now, and I have a century of catching up to
do." Her smile broadened. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ucchan."
A round of hearty goodbyes echoed through the place as Ranma left,
bringing a small comfort to the veteran warrior. A small paranoid part
of her mind feared that the opposition to her leadership would be
considerable; to find it only a minor problem came as a relief to her.
She walked to the empty house, hers alone now, though once it held a
proud family of warriors. She went to the basement, to a room shrouded
in mystery...the library.
A number of legends exist of the treasure of the Niichieju, a
storehouse of wealth rumored to be able to buy nations. While some
material wealth does exist in the village, this pales next to the true
treasure beneath the surface. Under the floors of the house lay a
storehouse of knowledge to rival Alexandria, from cancer cures and
ancient texts to annual weather reports and martial arts techniques.
Such a treasure was more valuable than any gold or gemstone...and far
more useful. Ranma gently opened the door and strolled inside, each
footstep echoing like a gunshot through the great hall.
The room itself was a large one, roughly the size of the entire
house above, and covered in an inky darkness pierced by the lamplight.
The air around was musty, with a still feeling of reverence accorded
ancient cathedrals or temples. Shelving covered the walls of the
library, scrolls from cultures long gone intermingled with modern
masterpieces. In the middle of this hall were a few chairs - and a large
wooden crate bearing Ranma's name.
After standing for a few minutes in awe at the treasure around her,
she noticed the present left her. She hefted the box and walked up to
the main living area, where she could examine its contents in greater
comfort.
Inside were several carefully-wrapped packages, as well as a
letter...a final letter from Cologne. Tears fell from the Amazon's eyes
as she read the farewell.
Dear Ranma,
If you are reading letter as I wish, then I have died and you have
succeeded me to the position of leadership. There is so much I want to
say to you, so many wonders to show to you; unfortunately, my time grows
short, and these few words must serve in my absence.
First of all, do not mourn me gone. While the curtain of the beyond
has largely concealed what I journey to, I have learned enough to know
there is a resting place to where souls go, and we both have a number of
friends waiting on the other side. Also, I have lived a full 117 years
of life, and have no major regrets to take with me.
I do not know if you hold any regrets concerning your coming here;
if you do, I pray you abandon them quickly. Whether this be a home to
you yet or not, it is necessary that you make it so. You have friends
here, to whom you can turn to in times of need. Trust their counsel, for
they can see things blind to us.
The leadership position you now hold is not an enviable one, my
friend. There are many doubts that the great tribe of women we lead will
survive the next century; it is your task to see that it does. You must
break down the walls, Ranma.
The first walls you must conquer are the ones you will reflexively
build around yourself. The wisdom and responsibility charged to us often
forces us to shut a part of ourselves off from the village. By the end,
I had erected so many barriers around myself that only you could see the
human being behind the mask of leadership. Do not let this fate become
yours as well.
The other walls you must conquer make the ones mentioned above seem
insignificant by comparison. This Niichieju tribe will not survive as
it is now. We have exiled ourselves off from the world of men for too
long, and our lack of change is threatening our future. Every year, more
and more of our talented youth leave their homes behind to pursue
happiness outside of the village. We must somehow adapt, allowing
ourselves to blend and work in the world outside without abandoning the
core philosophies that made us great. I believe the world is not only
ready for our wisdom, it is in need of it, as women enter the workplaces
normally dominated by men. We can teach them...teach them how to be
proud of who they are, and to be strong in the face of overwhelming
pressures. I could not do this, as I am immersed in the old ways. You,
on the other hand, are a gifted mix of so much - womanhood and manhood,
Niichieju matriarchy and Japanese chauvinism, ancient wisdom and modern
savvy. This is why I urged Shampoo to pursue you, and why I selected you
for this position after the tragedy. Your experiences are a godsend, and
will guide us into Niichieju's future.
Mei told me of their requirements of you concerning the leadership.
Right now their demands must still have you bristling; let the anger go.
They are trying to act in the best interests of the tribe, as are you. I
imagine in the end you will live as a woman by day for the tribe, and as
a man at night for Miss Kuonji.
There is no use avoiding or fighting that situation, by the way.
She loves you with an almost inhuman devotion, and would follow you to
the ends of the earth. Also, despite your continued efforts to avoid
your feelings, it is obvious that you care a great deal for her. I know
you are hesitant to even think of such matters given your current
situation, but it is past time you talked about it with her. Even if
you decide not to start a relationship just yet, make sure you stay by her
side.
My pupil, the lessons I have taught you are only the beginning of
the journey. The world has much left to teach you. Some lessons will be
of such beauty and life as to make you feel reborn, while other, darker
lessons wait to freeze your soul to ice. Whatever you do, Ranma, go
forward, always forward, and do not stop. Farewell, old friend, and
prove my trust was not misplaced in you.
With love,
Cologne.
Drying her tears, Ranma brought out the other contents of the box.
The first package was a blouse, a tunic of local cut. A white
Celtic-style cross was stitched on the field of forest-green, while red
trim bordered the fine silk. These were the colors of Cologne's family
since time immemorial, and were now hers to wear with honor.
The other two items were books - thick leatherbound journals capable
of recording years of notes and thoughts. The first was empty, full of
blank pages ready for a chieftain's wit and wisdom. Ranma readied her
ink for the journal, her brush poised above the virgin paper...but could
not write anything, save her name. Somehow, she felt that her stories
weren't ready - not yet, anyway.
The second book, on the other hand, was filled with journal entries -
journals detailing the last seven years of a chieftain's life. Ranma
brewed herself a pot of tea, and settled down to read.
September 18, 1992 - Shampoo returned home yesterday in disgrace.
Unfortunately, she did not know any better, and let herself be tricked.
>From what my great-granddaughter described to me, my suspicions of this
foreigner Ranma have proven correct: the girl who defeated her is in fact
a man, molded through Jusenkyo's touch into a female...
...September 30, 1998 - Disturbing events are occuring, and I fear
the conflict between Ranma and Blossom will soon come to a head. The
young champion Mouthwash was caught two days ago with information about
Ranma's existence, as well as other classified information for delivery
to the Musk. All of the evidence suggests the poor girl was framed;
however, I cannot let Blossom know-
*knock, knock*
"Good morning, Ranchan!"
"Hey, Ranma. You up?"
The new leader of the Niichieju looked up from her reading.
Surprise registered on her weary features at the rising sun in the
window, then at the equally weary warriors entering her abode. She
managed a weak smile for her friends.
"Er...good morning. I trust the party went on well after I left?"
Nabiki flopped on the couch, her face grimacing from the party's
aftereffects. "Oooh...don't remind me. I didn't know that much sake
existed."
Ukyou nodded gently in agreement. "Ranchan...I hope you don't mind,
but could we start the morning practices tomorrow? I don't think either
of us are in the mood for it."
Ranma reached a hand up to rub the weariness from her eyes. "Sounds
good to me - for today, anyway. I was up all night with Cologne's
notes." She looked to the now-cold kettle on the table, then to the
kitchen. "So...anyone in the mood for tea?"
****************************************************************************
Ukyou stood at her station in life, though she did it for a far more
important reason than money this night. She worked her spatulas over the
okonomiyaki, a gentle smile adorning her features. After a moment, she
scooped the food up, twirled each one on her spatula, and sent them
flying...right onto their desired plates. She took off her trademark
bandolier, and walked over to join her friends...her family.
Her family, those she would gladly give her life and more for, sat
at the table waiting for her (save Genma; the old man was already chowing
down). Curiosity was the prevailing mood among the crowd, though
amusement and agitation was also mixed in among the group. With a gentle
grace, Ukyou took her proper seat at the table.
"So, Ukyou, why have you called us here? I've got a store to run."
Nabiki was a tad impatient, letting her tapping fingertips show her mild
anxiety.
The chef sighed. "That, my dear Nabiki, is one of the reasons why I
have called you all here."
Only perplexed looks came in reply. Ukyou took a bite from her
plate, then continued.
"Before Cologne...passed on, she sent a letter to me." Ranma began
to choke on her drink, prompting a smile from the chef. "Anyway, among
other things...she said that we were drifting too far apart, and
that we as a family need to stick together."
Nodoka smiled, approving of the decision. "I'll admit I'm for it.
My daughter so rarely visits ever since she moved out..." She winked to
Ranma, to show she wasn't completely serious.
"So, Ucchan..." Ranma said, pausing to take in a bite, "what do you
want to talk about?"
A wicked glint appeared in Ukyou's eyes. "I dunno...Cologne's
death, your becoming chieftain, your promise to stay a woman forever..."
"WHAT?!?" The rest of the group looked stunned at the news. Ranma
stammered, desperately trying to explain the circumstances of her
succession.
"It's...it's not like that! It's in name only!"
Ukyou sat back, smug at her success. "I know, Ranchan, I know.
However, did it ever occur to you that we might like to hear something
like that from you...rather than the gossip lines?"
The dark-haired beauty reached out her hands, to grab Ranma's.
"Ranchan, I know that your new position carries with it some secrets that
you feel you can't share. But, please...if it affects someone we care
for very much...tell us. We're your family. We can help."
The redhead sighed. "I'll try. I dunno if I'll be able to,
though..."
"That's all we ask." Ukyou focused a stern gaze on her ex-fiance.
"Now. Is there anything -"
*knock, knock*
"Come in..."
A weary traveler walked into the little shop. Though sweat and
grime decorated the teenager's clothing and face, she walked with a skip
to her step and a happy glint in her eye. She set down her backpack, and
bowed before the seated chieftain.
"Mistress, I realize that I have done wrong, that I have dishonored
myself and the Niichieju with my actions. However, much time has passed,
and I beseech you to lift the veil of dishonor from me, and readmit me
into the tribe."
"The veil is lifted, Mouthwash," Ranma spoke, laughter threatening
to come. "And stop calling me 'Mistress'. It makes me sound like I'm
doing something immoral."
"As you wish, Milady."
Ranma groaned. Ukyou smiled, and went back to the grill.
"Sit down and take a load off, Mouthwash. I'll make you some
supper."
The teenager's face lit up. "Really? Thanks! You know, I tried
the okonomiyaki in Tokyo...somehow it didn't taste quite as good."
The family smiled. "Well...Ucchan's one of the best. Finding
someone of her caliber isn't easy."
The light in Mouthwash's eyes began to dim. "Milady...where are
Blossom's ashes?"
"Ashes?"
"You did kill her, didn't you?" Mouthwash spoke matter-of-factly,
then with more insistence. "Didn't you?"
The chieftain took a sip of her tea. "As a matter of fact,
Mouthwash, I didn't. I used shampoo to erase her memory."
"The Formula 110, or the stuff you were experimenting on?"
"The 110. I haven't perfected the other stuff yet."
Fear washed over Mouthwash, dark thoughts flying in her head.
"Milady...it would have been better to not take that chance. If she gets
a hold of a memory restorer...we're all in danger."
"Assuming she does...I don't think we have much to fear from her.
I've already defeated her easily."
"Chieftain...you don't know her like I do. The village was her
life. By taking that from her forever, you have already killed her.
And, if I'm right...she's going to take as many of her enemies with her."
The young warrior pushed her chair from the table, her appetite
gone. "Ranma...you are the chieftain now, sworn to maintain the honor
and well-being of our people. By letting her live...you may have
endangered us all."
****************************************************************************
Masculine screams echoed like a chorus through the village the
following morning, calling the young chieftain from her slumber. She
readied herself for the obvious crisis, and ran outside with the urgency
of a trauma doctor. The sight that awaited her was a horrible, surreal
picture, a staggering image difficult for even the Jusenkyo-cursed woman
to believe.
The crowd gathering at her doorstep was composed primarily of men,
strong, but fearful almost to the point of panic. Most of these men were
strangers, their faces unknown to the village...but their eyes and
ill-fitting clothing told the story. The leader recognized Jusenkyo's
touch instantly, and asked for silence among the mob.
"Okay, everyone, enough! Now, what happened? Who did this to you?"
A tall, handsome man stepped through the crowd, dark eyes like ice
in the predawn light. Ranma blinked in surprise; apparantly Nabiki was
among those affected. The new man grabbed Ranma's shoulders, and pinned
her to the wall.
"Who else?"
Ranma gulped. Anger was a common emotion from Nabiki; it was the
fuel which burned in her and drove her onward. But now...her old friend
was reaching a cold fury of frightening proportions. She steeled herself
for the onslaught of complaints, when another, high-pitched voice broke
through.
"It's not permanent! It's not..." The young lady, obviously shaken
by recent events, told her tale. "I...I woke up changed, just as you all
are. I guessed Jusenkyo, and tested it. I changed back with hot water,
but cold water doesn't change me." She splashed cold water on one of the
'men', to demonstrate.
Ranma wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, relief spreading
through her at the news. While the crowd dispersed to change and go back
to sleep, Nabiki held her grip, the anger inside giving way to fear.
"Ranma...there's something else. I...I passed Ucchan's..."
The warrior's heart froze. "What? Where is she?" she asked, panic
rising with each syllable.
"The place is a wreck, Ran-"
Nabiki never finished her sentence. Ranma made a beeline for the
little restaurant, her cries echoing through the village.
The cafe, the product of years of hard work, had been left in
shambles. Splinters were all that remained of most of the furniture,
while spatulas and sword strokes littered the walls and floor. The
grill, the canvas where the artist had worked her magic, was bent and
torn beyond repair. A single letter lay on one of the few intact tables,
which Ranma quickly seized and opened.
My dearest Ranma,
I did not appreciate your decision to wipe away my memories. While
most of them are rather unpleasant, they are still mine to cherish, and I
prefer to keep them. I'm not bitter, though, and have decided to let
bygones be bygones. In fact, I've decided to help you with your love
life, as you seem so lonely in your new position. If you're willing,
I'll introduce you to this great-looking guy, with long brown hair, the
most beautiful brown eyes, and a cooking style like none other. You
should taste this guy's okonomiyaki...it's to die for.
If you have any objections to this, I will be at Jusenkyo at noon
today.
With love,
Blossom.
P.S. Isn't instant Nannichuan fun?
"BLOSSOM..." Ranma roared like a demon freed, and slammed her fist
into the table. She balled a shaking fist around her pigtail, eyes shut
trying to see, yet not to see. A slightly metallic taste flooded her
mouth - blood from a bitten lip.
"Ranma."
The shattered woman turned to the deep voice, and dried what few
tears escaped. Nabiki, still masculine, walked over to her, his eyes
narrow slits. "Ranma...this has to end. Blossom isn't just a threat to
you now; her continued existence puts the Niichieju in jeopardy."
Ranma nodded painfully. "Get...get Pop. I'm...going to need a...a
second for this."
****************************************************************************
The morning sun had arrived some time ago, sending a piercing light
into the spartan room. A lone figure, clothed only in various
undergarments, sat meditating in its center, the only sound coming from
her lithe form the gentle inhale and exhale of life's breath. She held
in her slender hands a katana, the honor blade of her birth clan.
Honor. Death. Somehow, the words seemed almost contradictory
together. Every killing she had been unfortunate to play some role in
was distinctly lacking in the high quality, from Herb's cowardice at
Mount Hoorai to Blossom's revenge on Happousai at Jusenkyo. How was this
killing any different?
Her mind, the analytical, calculating strategist within her,
screamed the reasons. The death of her friends had not been provoked;
the Musk prince had no reason to fear for his life. Neither was
Happousai's murder; the newly-cursed master had been at the wrong place
at the wrong time in the wrong body. Blossom, though, posed a clear
threat to human lives and livelihoods, and would kill (or worse) without
hesitation. Moreover, everything within the chieftain's power short of
death had been tried. She had even gone so far as to experiment
(unsuccessfully) on mind-altering shampoos to erase Blossom's memory of
the place. Killing was the only option left. As she was now chieftain,
an honor which carried the responsibility of life and death, it was her
duty to see it done.
That didn't mean she had to like it, though...
Ranma's eyes snapped open. She walked over to the closet, and
flipped through the colorful silks and satins. She paused for a moment
at the green blouse Cologne had given her, then continued until she found
the outfit she was looking for.
The previously-unworn shirt and pants were identical in cut to
outfits she had worn in Nerima, with the wood ties down the middle. What
was different about this outfit, though, was the color, one she preferred
to avoid.
Black. The color of the night...of darkness.
She took the outfit from the closet and dressed, each movement
weighed as though it decided the fate of nations. Next came the honor
blade along her back, ready at a moment's notice.
The warrior looked at the clock: two hours to noon. Time to go.
****************************************************************************
In some respects, Jusenkyo could be considered Quinghai Province's
elysium, a place untouched and untouchable to warfare. Numerous
factions had traveled through the region over the millenia, carving
rivers of blood in their petty conquests - and avoided the pools of
sorrow with an almost paranoid fervor. A few of these groups, such as
the honorable Niichieju or valorous Musk, settled down in the area and
called the place home, though even these peoples treated the pools with
the upmost care. After all, no warlord or soldier wished to be made an
ass of - either figuratively or literally.
This was precisely why Blossom had chosen this spot above all
others. The place had already worked its magic on her...him, and could
do no more lasting damage to either of them. Anyone foolish enough to
accompany the chieftain, though, risked body and soul by coming. A
small part of her soul almost hoped someone would; the changed people
would show Ranma for the failure she was.
The dishonored giant looked back at the prize he had collected.
Ukyou struggled against the bonds that held her to the pole, while a rope
extended from the pole to his hand. All it would take is one good tug...
"Blossom."
He turned around to the calling...and smiled. The fool had come, as
expected, but had brought others with her...her father, the coward Genma,
and the money-hungry Nabiki. Good. The more witnesses, the better.
Blossom coughed once, then bowed congenially to the chieftain.
"Greetings, Ranma. Or do you prefer 'Mistress' now? 'Your
Worship', perhaps?"
"Can it, Blossom." Ranma's teeth were clenched in anger.
"You know, a Niichieju chieftain should have a more civil tongue."
He held up the rope to punctuate his point.
Ranma walked alone into the midst of the springs, hands open in
non-violence. "Why are you doing this, Blossom?"
The giant glowered at his greatest rival. "You took away everything
I held dear...everything I was!"
"Then why go after them, if I'm your target?" She gestured to Ukyou
on the pole. "Do you really want to give her the change? We both know
what it's like...the flash of nothingness...the realization...do you
really want to give that to another human being?"
"Yes." Blossom replied icily. "Hurting them hurts you. Especially
when she's involved." He readied himself into a fighting stance. "Care
to stop me?"
Ranma nodded sadly, unable to fight fate. "As you wish."
Blossom opened by pulling a handful of daggers from his belt. "Care
to see a fun trick?" he said, pantomiming Ranma's words from before. The
daggers left his strong hands at blinding speed, a phalanx headed
straight for Ranma's heart.
Ranma's eyes widened - but only for a moment. She started to
_move_, her lightning hands catching the blades, then launching them to
their point of origin.
Blossom leapt sideways to dodge the blades, then managed a small
smile. "Not bad, Ranma...not bad at all."
Ranma looked back at the warrior. "Musk Dynasty?" she asked, a
touch of fear in her voice.
"Uh-huh." The giant looked smug at the fact. "Trained there for
a year or so. You know...you're actually pretty lucky. Herb doesn't
remember you."
Ranma looked at the situation...and frowned. Blossom was trying to
cloud her judgement, to get her priorities jumbled up by angering her.
If she played it the wrong way, if she attacked Blossom outright...Ukyou
could end up a casualty. That left only one way to play it.
"You know, if I were you, I'd feel pretty insulted." Blossom
droned, seeking to distract. "Think about it: The primary focus of your
frustrations and the object of your revenge can't even be bothered to
remember your name."
"Do the world a favor, Blossom...shut up." The warrior launched
herself at Blossom, ready to perform the Amaguriken-Shiatsu maneuver
that she'd used earlier. Wary of her tricks, Blossom retreated rather
than attempt a block, moving out of the line between Ranma and Ukyou.
That's when Ranma bolted, her senses on overdrive, ready for the
coming reprisals. The first and expected one was the pulling of the
rope. Fear rose in Ukyou's eyes as she felt the sickening
weightlessness of freefall...Ranma continued running, her race taking on
new urgency. The chieftain leapt over the spring in a near-horizontal
bound, snagged Ukyou, and threw her to the safe zone, away from the
cursed pools. She sensed rather than saw the daggers coming, one, two,
three...
Four. A choked scream echoed through the grounds as a dagger
caught Ranma in the shoulder, sending her tumbling like a rag doll into
a spring.
Blossom stood there, numb, the screams of the others dimly heard in
his mind. He'd done it...beaten the unbeatable...they...they had to
accept him...her...whoever as chieftain now...
A fist rapidly approaching his face snapped the proto-leader out of
his reverie. He ducked, and stood to face Genma Saotome.
The aging martial artist made no effort to conceal his tears - or
the fury behind them. "You have killed my only child, one most precious
to me. By all I hold holy..." he launched a fierce barrage, then felt
overwhelming pain from Blossom's counter. The giant picked Genma up by
the scruff of the neck.
"'One most precious'? Hah!" Blossom mocked. "How many tortures
have you put her through in her life? What other hells have you had her
endure besides this one?"
"I dunno. He was usually there when I needed him!"
Blossom turned around. The focus of his anger stood
there...dripping wet...bleeding...and very much alive. He dropped the
old man, and readied himself for the fight.
Ranma blinked, and focused her eyes on the dishonored one. She
could feel her mind slowing, the strange lightheadedness that comes with
blood loss, and knew that time was running out.
In other words, if she wanted to get out alive, she had to act -
now. She carefully unsheathed the katana, and held it in her left (and
only useful) hand.
"I'm sorry, Blossom."
The warrior charged without mercy, thrusting quickly and repeatedly
with her blade, not allowing Blossom the slightest moment of respite for
counter. Blossom dodged the first few thrusts, but, ill-trained for the
specific situation, found himself outmatched. The final blow was a
merciful one, a thrust to the heart, stopping the young man/woman's life
before he could feel any more pain. Surprisingly, the look on Blossom's
face at the end was not of pain, or anger...but a strange peace.
Ranma slumped over the still form of her foe, cradled his head in
her lap, and began to cry softly...she hadn't wanted this, avoided it
like the plague...but...but...
She felt a pressure on her good shoulder, a gentle nudging
downward. Unable to resist, she lay down on the ground.
"Take it easy, Ranchan. You'll be all right. We'll get you help.
Just lie there and stay calm." Ukyou's voice seemed so distant to her
ears, so far away...
"Sh-shouldn't...be here, Ucchan," the chieftain slurred.
"Too...dangerous."
"Nonsense. Where you go, I follow - no matter what."
Ranma looked up at her companion and friend. So many emotions...so
much love in her eyes...
"I wish...wish I could l...lo-"
"I know, Ranchan. I know." Ukyou placed a finger over Ranma's lips to
silence them. The last thing Ranma saw before losing consciousness was a
tear fall down her cheek...
*****************************************************************************
A lone visitor sat alone at the cursed place of Jusenkyo, and
smiled at the picturesque scene in front of her. The sun shone high
in the sky, basking the area in its warm glow, while a gentle breeze
brushed against her, disturbing her bangs and balancing the sun's
warmth with its refreshing cool. The calls of animals could be heard
from the forests nearby, a reminder that this place, so rare on the
earth, still remained unconquered by civilization, and would probably
hold out forever. The warrior forced her attentions from the
surroundings, and frowned at the book next to her.
When she had first received this most precious of Cologne's gifts,
she had not known what to say. So much had happened to her, such a
strange mix of magic, love, and tragedy, that she at first perceived the
task of recording it as near-impossible. Still, what she said...what she
thought...was important, not only for herself, but for the village...and
the future.
A new millenium was approaching, an era ripe with potential - and
pitfalls. The village was going to need a new direction if it was to
survive, and the job of navigator had been given to her. The changes to
come would be neither easy nor pleasant...but they would be necessary.
Concessions would have to be made, while somehow keeping the tribe's fire
and soul intact, untarnished.
That was what the book was for. Ignorance was bliss only if death
was blissful, while wisdom could be the strength to keep the Niichieju
together as a people. She clumsily picked up her brush and began to
write, an artist's care taken with each stroke.
"It is with great sorrow that I report the passing of Cologne, for
so long the leader of our people, after a lengthy illness. Her wisdom
and guidance will be sorely missed. I only pray I may live up to her
example..."
****************************************************************************
Hello.
This is the last of the Sunrise Chronicles, and I currently have no plans
to write any post-Sunrise stories, so this is in some ways a goodbye.
While I do have ideas for such works, I feel that the works I have
thought up would diminish from the current stories, rather than augment.
Some stories are worth telling, while others aren't. It is time to move
on, to focus on other characters...other lives.
When I first started writing the original story back in December 1995, I
never imagined quite so much would come of this, or that I would put so
much of myself into this. To all those beginning writers out there: I pray
that you one day have a writing project that touches you as deeply as this
one has touched me. Over the past year I have come to know these
characters and feel what they feel, and they have come to teach me much
about myself. Ranma's honor is very much my own, as is Nabiki's anger,
Ukyou's faith...and Blossom's bitterness.
Yes, maybe I do need to get a life. ^_^
Thanks to Rumiko Takahashi, for the obvious. Thank you to everyone for
taking the time to read and enjoy this work. The other thank-yous I'm
going to post separately later, as they are going to be rather long, and
I need to think about them.
Nicholas Leifker
nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu
http://http.tamu.edu:8000/~nwl9354
January 12, 1997