Prologue

	The sun crept upwards from the horizon, it’s apex signalling the end of
dawn and the beginning of morning. A cloudless sky heralded a good weather
day to the citizens of Nerima and it’s surrounding districts. In fact, most
of the citizens had decided to take full advantage of the beautiful day
that as yet was still in it’s infancy. The streets were a bustle of people,
everyone heading towards their own pursuits, public transport deferred in
favor of walking or biking. While it did seem to be a bit warm, the cool
breezes that swayed softly kept the temperature just shy of perfect. Even
in the ever calamity-infested dojo of the Tendo’s, the pervasive sense of
peace and calm had affected it’s tenants. Kasumi had decided to head out to
the market for fresh foodstuffs, and was eagerly accompanied by her
youngest sister Akane. They had also mentioned going to a new movie that
opened up, another of the endless love triangle movies that ‘Women can’t
get enough of’ as Ranma had commented. Nabiki decided it was a perfect day
to enjoy her newly earned yen, with a trip to the beach and a nice dinner
with Kuno (He’d pay for the dinner, of course). Even Genma and Soun, who
seemed to never depart from the confines of the Tendo household, decided it
was a perfect day for a trip to the park for a game of shogi. The only one
to defer from this was Ranma, who vehemently chose to remain at home,
claiming that this was ‘A perfect time to sit back, relax, and not have to
deal with scheming parents, or violent fiancees’. It was a measure of how
wonderful the day seemed when Akane did not even reach for a mallet,
choosing instead to toss a withering glance and a ‘hrmph’ at him. She had
wanted to, but thought it better to not let a baka like Ranma ruin such a
nice day. The real reason behind Ranma’s lethargy was his left shoulder. A
madhouse tandem fight that led him from Kuno to Ryouga to Happosai left him
somewhat bruised; the morning training session seemed to aggravate it, and
in his mind it was the best way to recouperate without having everyone
needle him about a bruise, thank you very much.
	It was easily ten thirty when Ranma reawoke, having dozed on the porch
after the morning training session. It felt good, for once, not to be woken
by shouts about being late for school or the occasional bucket of water. He
stretched out, much longer and more comfortable since there was a lack of
spectators. A yawn went unstifled, and he lounged in the feeling. The sun
felt warm and soothing on his skin, and he let any thoughts of curses or
fiancees escape thought. One thought still nagged him. He remebered
everyone planning to leave around nootime, after a nice lunch. 
	“Ahhhh...Hmph. Che, you’d at least think they’d tell me when they left!”
he spoke aloud to no one in particular, since the house was completely
empty. This meant no wonderfully cooked meal from Kasumi. He stood up,
limbering out his somewhat cramped legs, and went out in search of
breakfast, praying to any god that Akane had not decided to leave him a
‘snack’. The kitchen proved to be rather bare, the only obvious necessity
being the already warmed thermos of hot water standing by the stove, almost
a permanent fixture since Ranma’s arrival. <Kasumi, always thinking ahead
of time...arigato!>  He removed  the thermos cover and poured the water
over himself, returning to male form. The towel that lay on the table went
around his shoulders, and the search began. It did not prove very fruitful.
There was nothing left except some leftover take-out in the refrigerater,
and Ranma decided to chow down on it cold, not wanting to bother with the
stove. <Well, at least it’s better than what I had on the training trip!!>
As he ate, Ranma considered all the things he could do with the day. It
seemed ages since he had a day completely to himself. No parents trying to
get him married, or at the very least out on another date.  No Akane
sending him into low earth orbit. No Nabiki conning him deeper and deeper
into debt. Now maybe, just maybe, if  Shampoo, Ryouga, and Kuno could
decide to not put in an appearance this day....
	“Hah! I wouldn’t put money on it!”, Ranma chuckled. He quickly checked
around to make sure Nabiki was not going to pop up and make ‘an offer he
couldn’t refuse’. When satisfied she was not laying in ambush, he headed
back to the dojo, plate in hand. After finishing the meal, Ranma decided to
practice. Well, practice had become another way for him to think things
through. It proved a safe place for thoughts to just fly through his mind
and get them dealt with. After a few minutes of limbering up he grabbed the
practice dummies and prepared them. They went in a semicircle around the
center of the dojo, where he was standing. <Might as well see how bad the
shoulder is. Maybe I can loosen it up a little bit.> He worked himself
towards the first practice dummy, fists blurring. He started slow, with
deliberate and powerful hand strikes to areas like the temple, neck, solar
plexus, and arm joints. Ranma picked up speed, relying more on the speed of
the blow than actual strength for power, switching over to repeated strikes
to the chest and head. After a few minutes of this, he began to feel his
shoulder ache. It seemed like a very light muscle sprain, so his mind
ignored it completely. 
	His hands froze, and momentum went to his hips. Right leg planted, Ranma
spun backwards,  lashing out with his left foot. It sailed over the first
dummy and crashed into the head of the second, sending it flying into the
corner. Once his left had hit the ground, the right leg spun upward,
stopping at the top of it’s arc, crashing downward. The heel of the foot
contacted the right shoulder of the practice dummy, with a satisfying
*crunch*. Ranma proceeded to go to work on the second dummy, feet flying in
complex rythms and arcs. After another minute, Ranma felt the hairs on the
back of his neck shoot straight up. This feeling usually came before one of
two things: a challenge to combat or trouble with a fiancee. Then Ranma
noticed the ki level involved, coming from one of the dojo walls. Instinct
took over and he flung himself backwards, hitting the ground and rolling
upward, just in time to escape the trajectory of a large part of wall
flying his way. He dropped back into a slouched posture, hands in pockets,
as he noticed the form standing in what was the dojo wall, with a dull red
glow outlining the shadow. It stepped forward and pointed the trademark red
umbrella in his direction.
	“Ranma, prepare yourself. Today you will die by my hands! I cannot
tolerate your existence any longer!” Ryouga shouted. Ranma first wondered
if he was taking lessons from Kuno on speech-making, then why in the name
of God he would show up today of all days? Then it hit, like the proverbial
ton of bricks. It was a perfect day, so far. Everything was going right
since he got up, heck even the takeout tasted great. By law this meant that
something would have to come and screw it up. Ranma took this in stride,
nay he’d decided long ago that things would never go perfect for him. He
didn’t exactly realize that it was not Ryouga who would ruin this so far
wonderful day, but someone else. A second person who happened to be at the
gate of the Tendo residence when Ryouga issued his challenge.
	“Ryouga, what is it this time, hmm? I don’t remember doing anything to you
in the last 24 hours man. Cool it!”. Reasoning with Ryouga was, as far as
anyone had ever tried, impossible. Ranma knew it, but still he did it. Why?
It was fun to watch Ryouga squirm. For some reason, whenever Ranma tried
reasoning with Ryouga, Ryouga always seemed to need to justify himself.
If Ranma were in a really bad mood, he would have dropped some utter
triviality that would send Ryouga into a mental loop, trying to figure out
what was meant and how to turn it against Ranma. Today, however, seemed a
bit different from the usual scenario.
	“Does it matter! What you’ve done in the past is more than enough reason
for you to die. Defend yourself” Ryouga countered, dropping the thinking
part for blind action, much quicker than he eventually did. He charged to
Ranma, umbrella waving a deadly arc. Ranma, hands still in pockets, dodged
and leapt out of the way, avoiding all the strikes Ryouga threw, as he
usually did. The person, having heard the shouted challenge, rushed past
the gate and through the house towards the dojo. Having never seen a sight
like this, the person decided to sit down, and quietly observe everything.
Ryouga tossed the umbrella into his left hand and gripped the bandana (ME -
which I firmly believe was designed by the same guy who created the Pez
dispenser!) on his head and let fly with four of them. This time Ranma’s
hands flew from their pockets, and he charged forward, fists blocking or
deflecting the oncoming onslaught of cloth. He closed with Ryouga, right
hand shooting outward. He slammed his fist into Ryouga’s right arm, bending
it away from the bandanna, and kicked with his right leg, sending the
umbrella flying from Ryouga’s slowly numbing wrist. A quick flurry of
punches followed, taking Ryouga in the lower chest, and Ranma sent him
flying into the wall with a left side-kick. Ryouga crashed into the wall
and slumped down. Ranma let out a long sigh.
	“Don’t think it’s over yet, Ranma. I’ve not yet begun to kick your ass!”,
came the scream from inside the wall, and a small black object came flying
out of the depression in the concrete.
	“Really? could have fooled me!” Ranma taunted, not noticing the longish
spinning object until it was almost too late. He dodged, but not enough. It
creased him on the shoulder and embedded itself in the far wall. <Damn!
Forgot he’s got the belt! This is gonna hurt soon.> Ranma jumped off the
dojo and into the back yard, backing up. 
	“C’mon, pork chop. You want a good fight, then come get one!” he taunted.
Of course, knowing Ryouga too well, he knew what buttons to push. Ryouga
flew out of the dojo wall, leaping high into the air, arcing downard with a
kick. Ranma shielded himself with a forearm, the kick crashing in but doing
little damage, and he leapt backward to avoid the arcing reverse kick that
followed. He ran towards Ryouga picking up steam but not preparing an
attack. Ryouga stood and wondered why Ranma wanted to try and tackle him.
He shrugged, deciding to think on Ranma’s stupidity after the fight, and he
lunged forward, puching with all his might.
	Right before the punch would have taken Ranma in the head he leapt, body
spinning over Ryouga’s head. The moment his feet hit the ground Ranma began
a pivot kick. It caught Ryouga in the chin, just as he was turning around
to locate Ranma. He followed with a quick punch to the face, smashing
Ryouga’s nose and tossing him backward a few steps. Ranma jumped, right leg
arcing upward. It missed Ryouga by an inch at most, and then crashed down
onto his shoulder. A gasp of pain emitted from Ryouga’s lungs, and he went
to his knees, grasping the shoulder. Ranma stepped back, letting Ryouga be
for the time.
	“Okay, had enough yet, P-chan?”, he asked. There was no hidden taunt this
time,  just a tone of voice that said ‘enough’. Ryouga pushed himself
upright, still holding his left shoulder gingerly. He smiled, fang glaring
in the sunlight.
	“Why? We’ve just begun.”, he countered, and kicked Ranma square in the
chest. It connected hard, forcing the breath from Ranma’s lungs and almost
doubling him over. Ranma’s fists again went flying, this time attempting to
dodge the oncoming attacks sent his way. He tossed Ryouga’s punches to the
side, and mostly dodged the high kicks. Ranma got caught by a sweep and
felt himself falling. His arms went backward, touching the ground and
shifting momentum. His feet arced up and he pushed, sending himself into a
backflip, barely avoiding Ryouga’s front snap kick. Ryouga kept moving
forward, following Ranma’s backflip. Ranma, the moment his feet touched the
ground, jumped up, spinning away from Ryouga. His right leg straightened,
swinging like a baseball bat. The heel of his foot crashed into Ryouga’s
temple with the force of a hammer. No sooner than he landed, Ranma punched
Ryouga twice in the chest, more forcing him backwards than to hurt. Ranma
then stepped forward and pivoted on his right leg, the left snapping
outward and catching Ryouga’s chest with a back-kick. Ranma swore he heard
and *felt* something snap in Ryouga’s chest.
	Ryouga however, started to laugh. He closed his hands in on Ranma’s
receeding foot, twisting viciously and pushing forward, keeping the grip.
When he was close enough, Ryouga punched Ranma in the kidney, forcing him
to bend his body sideways from the blow. Ryouga dropped the leg and kicked
Ranma in the gut, doubling him over, and slammed two fists into the back of
his neck. Ryouga gloated, knowing he could take more punishment than Ranma.
He felt Ranma’s hands grabbing his shoulders and heard him yell “WAIT!!”
Despite the hatred and adrenaline running in his blood, Ryouga halted his
attack, not really understanding why. It came more on reflex.
	Ranma saw this in a movie once, and knew it was a long shot, but it could
work? <C’mon, this is Ryouga here!  Nice guy (riiight!), but dumb as a
pig!> He grasped Ryouga’s biceps, pulling himself upright, and shouted
“WAIT!!”. Ryouga actually stopped. Ranma yanked downward on his arms, and
pushed his body upwards. The top of his head slammed into Ryouga’s face,
which made a severe clunking sound, and threw him backwards. Blood trickled
down from Ryouga’s nose and mouth, and he looked dazed and hurt. Ranma
grabbed Ryouga again, this time planting his foot onto Ryouga’s chest. He
then fell backward, hoping to throw Ryouga over the walls, but as luck
would have it, he misjudged locations, and wound up in the pond. Yes, it
was nice to have a cold drench after the fight, but now a very female Ranma
had to deal with P-chan, which could be a lot more painfull if Akane were
around. She sat up, wondering why something was sticking in her mind from
the fight a moment ago. When she fell into the water, some kind of noise
registered, like a sharp intake of breath. It wasn’t from her, and it
didn’t sound like either Ryouga or P-chan. <Oh well, guess I’m just a bit
pissed about the fight and dreamed it.>  She grabbed the semi-conscious
P-chan and walked towards the dojo, hoping now for a nice shot of hot water
and an ice-pack for the shoulder. Before the fight it was a little stiff,
but now it felt like a rock. Ranma was so engrossed in examining the pain
mentally that she failed to comprehend the person sitting on the dojo floor
and walked right by them. It actually took two announcing coughs before
Ranma realized that yes, there was someone there. She turned her head
around lazily, not really concerned about looking who it was but simply
wanting to convey a message.
	“Look, everyone’s gone for the day, and if you’re looking for a fight
forget it. Come back tomorrow.”, Ranma spoke, more concerned with hot water
at the moment than the response, until it reached his ears. 
	“I would have hoped you would be taught more respect for your
elders.....Ranma”, came the reply. At first it was the tone of the voice
which caught Ranma. The very small note of sarcasm that was overlaid by
what seemed like a truckload of apprehension mixed in with hurt. After this
bulled through Ranma’s conscious, the sound of the voice thumped him on the
back of the head. It was damn familiar. Definitely someone he hadn’t seen
in quite a while. When she finally comprehended this, danger alarms went
off like fireworks, and her flight response kicked into extra high gear.
This was all allayed when she realized <It’s okay, I’m a girl.> This all
came in the first second of thought. The second second was taken up by
connecting the sound from the fight Ranma couldn’t recognise to the person. 
	She turned around, expecting to see the worst and yes, it was there. The
perfectly arranged lavendar kimono, each crease visible. The reddish dark
hair done up in a severe bun over an expression of pure hurt and confusion.
Deep almond eyes that while normally vibrant with life, seemd dim with
brimming tears. Lastly (but certainly not leastly!) the long brown covering
on her back, containing the sword of the family Saotome, probably sharp as
ever.  In Ranma’s mind, a scnene was busy playing to it’s conclusion. It
was of two Ranma’s, one in his traditional garb, colored black, digging a
large hole. The other stood by, watching, in the same clothing but with the
regular colors. The one standing spoke, small subtitles below each, giving
their identity:

	Conscious to subconscious: “What are you doing?”
	Subconscious to conscious: “Digging, what’s it look like stupid?!”
	“Digging what?”
	“Jeez you must have been dropped too many times as a kid. It’s big, it’s
deep, it’s long, it’s a grave, allright!”
	“Um, whose grave is it?”
	“Ours!! Man, I can’t believe I occupy the same brain as this goofball!”

	“Uh...I...um...that is...uh....hi Mom.” Ranma, stammered, not really
knowing what else to say, figuring anything else would probably dig an even
deeper hole than he already was in. The whole situation had grown into
something that Ranma was not prepared to deal with. He knew that one day,
he and his father would have to settle things with Nodoka. He longed for
it, for the ability to feel something other than fear and worry associated
with his mother. Only, the situation on these terms put things in a much
more dangerous perspective. It was unnecessary to point out that she still
held the katana. It would have been much better for this day to come with
both father and son prepared for the consequences. Sadly, the laws of
Murphy held true, and the two stood facing each other. Ranma wanted more
than anything to hold his mother, to be held by her. His fist shook
visibly, making small popping noises, as he held himself from it. The
emotions flowing between them were palpable, the pain and confusion staying
Ranma’s movement. Well, if actions were not possible, than words would have
to suffice.  <Just once, I wish I could twist words as much as Nabiki.> The
thought appaled Ranma, but he did not shy from it, nor any other of his
emotions. If truth and honesty wouldn’t work.... he spoke, fumbling over
the words.
	“I wish, that, this could have been different. I wanted to, but it didn’t,
you see...” <DAMN! I don’t know how to do this!> Ranma was about to
continue when Nodoka looked him in the eye.

Her response came in a very strained voice, each word enounciated with
perfect clarity.
	‘We’ve got a few things to talk about.’

Ranma ½:  The Kunou Conspiracy
Chapter 1

	‘Wounds that never quite heal..’


	Ranma was kneeling in the center of the dojo, trying not to fidget.
P-chan’s dozing form lay close by, lightly snoring, the only sound to
pierce the silence. Across from him was his mother, in the same position,
her facial features now almost unreadable. She had bade Ranma to sit
silently, the coldness of her abrupt actions sending clear messages to
Ranma. It took every ounce of willpower not to speak, to not try and say
something to allay the situation. For once, he decided that Nabiki’s way of
dealing with situations like this might be better than the alternative. If
he only responded to her questions, it lessened the chance of letting
anything dangerous slip out. Ranma knew well enough what the feeling
running through his veins was, the sickening feeling that made his stomach
want to empty itself. It was fear. He’d never admit it, but was neither
stupid nor foolish enough not to understand and accept the fact. As Genma
had once told him, in one of his better moments: Any action motivated soley
by fear is sure to fail. You must temper your actions with wisdom and
foresight, drawing more from them than from fear. 
	Nodoka slowly reached out her hand and held it to her son’s face. He
didn’t flinch, but she felt the beginnings of the reaction in his skin. It
pierced her, that such an action would be caused by her touch. <What must
he think of me?>, she wondered. It was time to break the silence, but she
was unsure of how to handle the situation.
	“You look well, Ranma.”, she opened in a cracked voice. He did not speak
for a moment, eyes locked on her face, as if trying to find something.
	“Uh, you do to, Mom.”, he responded. It was a nice safe sentiment that
didn’t hurt his position. It also didn’t make any headway at all.
	“Ranma, I..this is difficult. I want to know why? That’s all, just tell my
why did you and Genma do this? What made you keep this from me?”, she
asked. The cards were beginning to fall on the table. 
	“Well, remember when Dad wrote about going to Jhusenkyou?” Ranma launched
into the whole story, albeit a much shorter and more edited version of the
story. He explained the cursed pools and their effects, and then the pact
made between his father and Soun. It took a little over an hour, in which
P-chan finally awoke. He heard Ranma talking to his mother, explaining the
story his life to her. He was quite surprised to hear his own part of the
play.
	“Well, you see, the kid I was fighting with earlier, Ryouga, well....I met
him in Junior High. We’d always have fights over things like who would get
the best lunch at school and things like that. After that he followed us
around, always trying to get back at me. It looks like we hate each other,
and he is the dumbest, most misguided schmuck I’ve ever met, but there’s
been a few times when we’ve helped each other out, and done things for each
other. It’s just were so used to fighting that it comes natural for us.
It’s kind of an honor thing.”
	Ryouga was awestruck. Not only did Ranma not describe his curse, keeping
the oath, but he never mentioned Ryouga’s love for Akane. What made it even
worse was that he openly admitted that they were not enemies. It partially
enraged Ryouga, to think that Saotome would hold him in such a small
regard, but a small part of Ryouga felt a bit relieved. The only constant
in his life seemed to be Saotome Ranma. If he ever needed to blow off
steam, or simply rage at the world’s cruelty, a fight with Ranma would make
things a little better. It was a settling outlet for violent energy. P-chan
stood up and walked slowly past the two Saotome’s and into the Tendo house,
unseen by the two parties who were much too engrossed in a conversation of
drastic proportions to be concerned with a small pig. He felt that this was
something private, that he had no right in hearing.
	“So, Ranma, what do you feel about being engaged to Akane”, Nodoka
interruped. Alarms went off again in Ranma’s mind. This question had an
extremely dangerous pitfall in it. Wrong words could cause too much
trouble, and might very well be fatal.
	“Well, it wasn’t my choice. He simply said “Here, you’re getting engaged”,
without even asking me. It’s not so bad, really. She can be kinda nice at
times, it’s just that she’s got a temper.
Well, all of them do, but-” <Argh! Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut!!>
	“All of who?”, Nodoka requested, the look on her face clearly expressing
that she wanted an answer.
	“Oh, nobody, just some people..”, Ranma supplied.
	“Ranma, remember”, Nodoka shrugged her shoulder, causing the sword to
bounce for emphasis,”it is terribly unmanly to lie, especially to one’s
mother.” Ranma’s shoulders slumped in acquiescence, his will bracing for
the inevitable. She seemed to know the exact buttons to press.
	“Here it is. It all started when I was young, about 5 or so...”, and Ranma
explained about Ukyou, Shampoo, and even Kodachi. He spoke in a monotone,
head down. He didn’t even dare to look up, too afraid to see his mother’s
expression. She was bound to not like the situation one bit. He finished
the story with “It’s not that I don’t want to make a choice, it’s just that
I don’t want to deal with it if I did!”
	“So you’re afraid of what the others would do if you chose a fiancee?”
	“No. I’m not afraid of them at all,”, he decided to turn the tables back
toward his mother with this, “It’s just that if I did choose I’d be saying
to everyone else that I didn’t love them. I don’t know if that’s true or
not, and I don’t want to lie. Also, it’s bound to hurt them very much. And
guys just don’t go around breaking girl’s hearts. It’s just not somthing a
man would do.” <Whew! Hope that works out okay.>. It seemed to mollify her,
at least, from the look on her face she seemed to accept the explanation. 
	“An entertaining tale, to say the least. But it doesn’t tell me why you
did what you and Genma did!”
	“It should be kind of obvious. I’m supposed to be this ‘man among men’,
right? And if I’m not it’s the long goodbye. It was pretty much Pop’s idea,
to keep from having to commit seppuku. But, it was more because, well, I
didn’t want to take the chance that-”, it was becoming difficult for Ranma
to continue.
	“Take what chance, Ranma?”, Nodoka prodded.
	“The chance that,”, Ranma replied, fists clenching, “The chance that I
wouldn’t have lived up to the promise. Not because it’s my concern, my
life, but because I didn’t want to hurt you. The last thing I could take
would be that you wouldn’t see me as a man. That I would have let you down.”
Ranma shook, trying valiantly to control the emotions rampaging through his
body. It was not just fear, for that he had conquered, but the gravity of
the situation. He had finally confessed to his mother, not the entire story
but the most important parts. It felt as if everything that weighed on his
heart had been lifted. The freedom was exhilarating, but it was tempered by
a nagging doubt. There was still nothing on the promise itself, or whether
or not he had fulfilled it. <What must she think of me now?>, Ranma
wondered, the answer to that foremost on his mind. Just then the tension
broke.
	“My son!” cried Nodoka, and the tears began to fall as she grabbed Ranma
in a strong hug. “It’s been far to long”. She cried into his shoulder,
still clutching the son she had lost and regained. Ranma was startled, but
had no difficulty in returning the embrace. 
	“Mom.” he breathed, wondering if all this was some dream from which he
would soon awaken. The two held each other, feelings long buried coming up
and enveloping them. Everything, for a while at least, worked out.
	“I’m sorry”, Ranma whispered over and over, the only thing that came to
his mind. There was so much to apologize for, he thought. 
	“I know, it’s okay”, his mother replied, the joy at finally seeing her son
almost overwhelming her. They broke the embrace, but still held hands, as
if there was some vital link which must not be broken between them. This
had become in Ranma’s mind the best possible day he could ever have.
	“Ranma, son, where is Genma? I need to speak with him about a few things.”
Nodoka inquired. Ranma began to laugh, the image of his stern-faced mother
talking to a giant panda too much for him.
	“Sorry. He went to the park today with Mr. Tendo. They should be back
soon.” Ranma’s comments were accentuated with a muted GASP! and a loud
SPLASH! Sitting in the pond now was a large panda, a look of dread in it’s
eyes and a sign in it’s hand saying “Hello nice pretty stranger lady!” in
large kanji. Nodoak looked to Ranma, and nodded once towards the panda.
Ranma could only nod his head in agreement. Nodoka stood and walked out
into the yard towards the panda. Each step saw the panda’s eyes grow larger
and larger, the look of dread being replaced by one of blank stupidity. It
began to play with a tire, in hopes of looking like a panda. Nodoka reached
the panda and knelt before it, looking into it’s eyes. The panda looked
back, and then continued to play with the tire. Nodoka knelt patiently and
watched the panda intently. Soun Tendo stood beside Ranma, who was watching
the entire spectacle while trying not to burst out laughing.
	“Ranma-kun, what is going on here?”, Soun asked in a conversational tone.
Ranma took a moment to reply, hoping to keep the moment by not laughing.
	“Mom dropped by to visit. She knows most of the story, and it’s okay!”
	“You didn’t forget to tell her about Akane, did you Ranma?”, Soun asked.
His eyes seemd to be bugging out, and he was on the verge of bursting into
a fit. Ranma shrank back a bit.
	“Uh, no, I told her. When I said most I meant the important parts! Man,
this is good!” Ranma pointed toward the scene. Sweat-drops were covering
the panda’s foreheard as Nodoka kept staring, a quiet expression on her
face. She sighed and spoke to the panda.
	“Genma, when you are ready to drop the charade, let me know. Until then
you’ll just have to eat leftovers from the panda dish.” That got the panda
going. It ran toward the house, and into the kitchen, grabbing one of the
many hot kettles stored therein. Genma returned from cursed form, walking
resignedly into the dojo. He stood before his wife.
	“It has been a while, hasn’t it, Nodoka.” She looked him over, eyeing him
closely.
	“Yes it has, Genma. You look, better.”
	“Better? In what way, dear?”
	“You’ve lost that rediculously serious expression of yours, husband. Maybe
you’ve found a sense of humor now, as well?”, Nodoka smiled. Genma stepped
closer, enveloping his wife in an embrace. Tears streamed down both of
their faces.
	“I can explain, my heart-”
	“No need. Ranma has explained most of it to me. But I am surprised at one
thing.”, she mused.
	“And that is, dear?”
	“Why I never picked up on a panda who can write or carry signs!”

	Evening closed on the small town of Nerima. Ranma had shortly retired to
the roof, allowing his mother and father to sort their own problems out in
private. Later everyone had returned and marveled at the strange, yet happy
reunion of the family. They could not understand why, after a few moments
of Ranma and Nodoka speaking after dinner, Ranma had returned to the roof
and had not returned since. Akane excused herself from the after dinner
discussion and went to see what was wrong with Ranma (ie - why the baka was
being so immature in front of his mother). She climbed up to the roof,
noting the sky above, empty of clouds. It really was a beautifuly night
(Sorry, no shizuma drive in this one!). Ranma was lying back, arms crossed
under his head, on the roof, staring up at the sky. He was chewing,
nervously it seemed, on a toothpick.
	“Ranma” He seemed startled by the intrusion, “mind if I sit down?”
	“Go ahead. It’s your roof, right?” Akane held her skirt under her legs and
sat down. She could tell something was bothering him.
	“Something bothering you, Ranma?”
	“No, why should it?” She smirked. It was going to be another of THOSE talks.
	“Well, your mother is downstairs, hoping to spend some time with her son,
and here you are moping like a child!” She heard his quiet laugh, a harsh
and biting quality to it.
	“Guess so.” He nibbled on the toothpick.
	“What do you mean guess so? She hasn’t spent time with you for years.
She’s missed you more than anything in this world! Now why are you up
here?” Ranma’s voice took on  a somber seriousness
	“Cause I might die tomorrow, and I wanted to watch a sunset, and maybe a
sunrise, before than.” Akane was confused, to say the least.
	“You’re joking, right? That whole thing was dealt with!”
	“Nope. ‘s what she said to me right after dinner. She and Pop talked it
over, and tomorrow morning decides whether or not I’m a man. Whether or not
I get to stick myself.” He laughed.
	“You can’t be serious! Why would they go through-”
	“These are my parents, Akane, not yours. You know how Pop is with this
whole honor thing. Mom’s also a big stickler for it. Yeah, she’s glad to
see me, but if I’m not a ‘man among men’, it’s off with my, uh, gut.”
	“But this is absolutely crazy! They must be pulling some kind of joke!”
Akane was utterly shocked now. It seemed beyond belief that Genma and
Nodoka would do this, even as a formality.
	“Crazy. Trademark of the family Saotome. I-”, Ranma stopped, feeling
something on his shoulder. Akane had reached out, with much hesitation, and
placed her hand there, gripping his shoulder. 
	“Don’t worry Ranma. I’m sure things will turn out okay.” She smiled at
him. Things seemed a bit brighter then, for Ranma. It always did when Akane
smiled at him. He hesitated, almost pulled his hand back twice, but placed
his own hand on top of hers.
	“Thanks, Akane. You don’t know what your smile means to me.” <ARG! I
didn’t want to say that! What’ll she think!> He braced for the inevitable.
	She almost pulled her hand back from the shock. She expected some snide
comment from Ranma, and instead he said what he did. It made Akane feel
warm inside, a feeling akin to being under a thick heavy blanket in the
middle of winter, but better. She smiled a bit wider, and sat down next to
Ranma.
	“Thank you Ranma. For not saying what you would have. For what you did
say.” They sat together, not saying anything, simply enjoying the rare
moment. Finally Ranma spoke, in a calm and quiet voice.
	“I love the night sky. Especially right after dusk. The colors of the sun
still fading away. The dark of night penetrated by the stars’ light. The
constellations, always moving. Stars winking at you, from high in the
heavens. It’s the second most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.” This all
sounded cheezy and corney to Ranma, but he figured that it was what Akane
might want to hear. He told himself it was simply to calm her before what
could happen to him the following day, but had much trouble being
convinving. He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him.
	“And what is the most beautiful, hmm?” Akane asked, the usual suspicion in
her voice. Around now he would just spout the most inane and hurtful thing
possible, Akane knew. She just didn’t want to have to hammer him, not now,
not when his mother was here and everything was going so well. Her
reasoning ended with the figuring that he asked for it and should get what
he deserved. Her hand closed on the mallet when he replied.
	“You, when your smiling, and happy.” <I can’t believe I’m saying this!>
Ranma quelled his gag reflex at the line. It was just the sappy, stupid,
superficial line that most girls fell for, at least in the movies. So he
braced himself for the inevitable hammer swing. He opened one of his eyes
when the hammer did not land. He saw Akane, looking out at the stars,
trying to hide the tears in her eyes.
	“I hoped, one day, this would happen. That we wouldn’t end a conversation
with a fight. It’s funny though, that it happened now, with everything else
that happened today. I’m just glad it happened. Thank you, Ranma.” 
	“Sure. It seemed like what you wanted to hear. Sounded really corney to
me, but hey, girls go for this stuff. Oh shit! I’m talking out loud aren’t
AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Ranma’s parting shout woke much of the people of
Nerima, as he flew across the night sky he earlier admired.Akane spun a few
times with the follow-through, allowing the momentum to dissipate.
	“Baka. Even so, you could have just shut up and went with the moment!”.
She huffed and climbed down to the dojo.
	Needless to say, as he always did, Ranma landed in some sort of garbage
heap and, needless to say, trudged his way home slowly.

	Morning dawned bright and early (ME - As to how a morning could dawn late,
I don’t know....work with me here people!), especially for Kasumi. Since
5:30am she had been up, watching the sun rise as she began the battle that
was breakfast. It was nice that everyone appreciated her cooking,
considering the time and effort placed into it’s creation. Cooking was a
masterful skill that only came with time and practice, and Kasumi had had
much of both.
	She hummed a wordless tune as the feast slowly began to assemble around
her hands.
It was so nice that the Saotome family had finally decided to bury their
greivances. They all seemed much happier than before, Kasumi thought.
Especially Ranma, or so it seemed. He had become rather withdrawn, after
dinner the day before, and spent his time on the roof. It worried Kasumi a
bit. She had come to think of Ranma as a kid brother, and of a sorts he
almost was. To spend time on the roof, when he no longer needed to hide
from his mother, as strange. She hoped that he would come out of whatver
spell had taken him.
	In the dojo, Genma and Nodoka had prepared themselves for the coming
ceremony. Each wore an elegant white kimono, starched and creased just
perfectly. Nodoka had let her hair down, and Genma was clean shaven. They
had set up a ceremonial table in the center, and left a small bundle of
white paper on top. The room was completely bare. The two looked into each
others eyes and hugged quickly. Genma called once for Ranma, hoping the boy
would have enough sense to come down, this being a very important event.
	Ranma stepped out of his room, closing the door slowly. The dread of the
next few minutes hung low in his belly, and nagged at his mind. His walk
towards the stairs was deliberate, as if he need to force each step to make
sure he actually made them.
	“2000 yen, and I guarantee I can get you off the hook!”, Nabiki called
from the doorway of her room. Ranma turned and stared at her, sending a
shiver down her spine. He was dressed in his usual clothing, except it all
seemed new. The pants were clean and pressed, his shoes immaculate. The
normally red shirt was white, bright and spotless, with white ties, and the
traditional black pants. His hair was the same, but there was more care put
into the ponytail. His face held grim determination, but it was his eyes
that startled Nabiki. They had a haunting quality to them, an inner storm
raging to break free from the bonds of his calm. Behind that, more base and
subtle, was the iron will, a thing akin to a  force of nature, which stayed
deep down until a fight brought it out. It seemed at the breaking point
now.. When he spoke it was in a pronounced tone, completely emotionless.
	“You think I’m so scared I’d take a deal like this? At least Kuno respects
some of my ability. I’ve got the feeling I won’t be paying you anymore
Nabiki. Find a new dupe to swindle.” and with that he turned and marched
down the stairs.
	Kasumi heard the conversation and wondered what had possessed Ranma to say
such a thing to Nabiki. Sure, she sometimes was rather, ‘dubious’, when it
came to money, but he’d never been so abrupt and rude to her. She didn’t
deserve it, at least not so harshly. She almost dropped her pan when she
saw him, and muttered her classic “tai-hen”.  Ranma showed a bit more
emotion at her remak.
	“Jeez, it’s not like I never dressed up for things before, c'mon Kasumi!”,
he bantered, trying to smile and failing. She placed the pan down and stood
in front of Ranma, hands on his shoulders.
	“It is a change for you, though. Remember, Ranma, we all care for you, and
I know that you will do the best thing you can. Don’t forget, we’re all
here for you.”
	“Thanks Kasumi. It might not seem like it helps, but it does.” He stepped
past her and continued onward to the dojo, muttering something about this
feeling like a funeral procession. He turned the corner and almost bumped
into Akane, as he expected to. She was wearing a long blue dress, with a
high neck. It was rather out of character for her, but very nice, Ranma
thought. He wondered why she didn’t wear somthing like it more often. She
held her hands behind her back clenched, a hesitant expression on her face.
	“Uh, Ranma, about-” He reached up behind her ear and whipped his hand
back, revealing a single rose. It had taken a few hours of practice (the
rest of the night before) to get the move down perfect <Eat your heart out,
Tuxedo Kamen!>. Each time he wondered why learn it at all he shoved the
thought from his mind. Maybe just not dealing with impulses like that would
work. He placed the rose in her hand, careful to avoid the thorns.
	“Here, Akane. It says more than I can, and much better.” he walked past
her, leaving her completely awestruck, into the dojo.

	Ranma knelt before his parents, the small table separating them. His
father coughed once and began:
	“Son, today is the day we decide on how well you have been raised. The
agreement between myself, you , and your mother must be honored. I have
raised you as best I could, considering the circumstances”, he smiled, “and
you have proven to be a gifted student. I want you to know I am proud of
you, and know that you will aquit yourself with honor.” Genma stood and
walked out of the dojo, leaving his wife and son alone. He hoped that Ranma
would do the proper thing, once the situation played itself out. He had the
habit of doing the strangest things sometimes. Genma had no idea where he
had inherited that trait from.
	Nodoka carefully removed the satchel from her back, and slowly opened the
covering, revealing the sheathed sword of the Saotome family. She gripped
the handle and the sheath, separating the two in a slow motion, revealing
the blade. She wrapped the white paper around the blade and placed it on
the table in front of her (ME - to any who have an idea of the how the
ceremony really goes I know this is off, both with the setting and the
absence of several important people, but hey, like I said before, work with
me people!), bowing low in front of it.
	“My son, I am glad that we have finally reached this point. I have waited
a long time to see you once again, this time a man. My heart leaps with joy
at seeing what a fine boy you have become, but the pact must be honored. To
do anything else would stain our family honor. You know what the conditions
of the pact are?” Ranma could only manage a simple nod, “Good. Then, I
leave the decision unto you. You know the promise, and you have the sword.
If you are truly a man among men, than you will know well what to do with
this.” she finished, removing her hand from the sword and walking past him,
to the kitchen.
	Everything was spinning for Ranma. He didn’t expect it to be like this.
They seemed damn serious about the whole affair. <Even Pop! I’ve never seen
him this serious before. The’ve got to be off their rocker!> He looked at
the sword, eyes growing wild! <They can’t expect me to....but, maybe that’s
what they want me to do! Damn....> His mind was reeling, trying to
rationalize the situation and come up with a proper solution, and failing
miserably. He grasped the hilt of the sword, and slid it from the paper. It
cut through the paper cleanly, a tribute to the sharpness of the blade.
Upon seeing this Ranma dropped it instantly. This was not a joke. They
really expected him to plunge the sword into his gut, and end his life.
<Probably want me to do a crosswise cut as well! But, no, this is Mom and
Dad........> His hands crept forward, grasping the hilt of the sword
again.When he thought about it, it was a surprise that the sword weighed so
little. He slid the scabbard back over the open blade. The only sounds he
could hear, other than the far away noises of breakfast cooking was the
occasional chirping of a cricket. The calmness of the moment contrasted
starkly with the weight of it’s importance.
	Ranma didn’t know what to do. He was a Saotome, and would never back down
from conflict. He was the son and student of Genma Saotome, and would prove
himself thus, in doing the only thing that seemed viable at the time.
	Sword still gripped in fingers of iron, he ran.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Coming Soon:
	Ranma 1/2: The Kuno Conspiracy
	Chapter 2
	'Continued Revelations'
--------------------------------------------------------------

All the standard disclaimers apply. Patent pending. Void Where Allowed.

My Rant:
For those of you who made it here, I would like to give you my thanks, and
hope
I have provided you with at least some measure of enjoyment by my work. All
I ask
and hope from anyone who reads my work is that they enjoy it.

I'll keep this short, by saying I hope you watch out for chapter 2, where
things
take some interesting turns, and the meaning of the story's title becomes
clear.

HardCase
fzado@tecoma.mccc.edu