Ranma and all related characters are owned by Rumiko Takahashi.  The use
of the characters are not meant in offense or meant to be a violation of
copyright regulations.
All rights are owned by people who could paste me with a large legal
battle.
The chartacers introduced in this fic are actually copyrighted by
myself.  Really?

If things are unclear, it's because I'm transferring from a formatted
html document to no formatting here.  I think it's still clear, but if
you're having problems, visit my site at:

http://public.carleton.edu/~tsaie/fanfix.html
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Chapter One

	Ranma hated rain.  It was wet and stormy and water was everywhere. 
Coming from everywhere.  Ranma couldn't run from it, beat it back, or
defend himself from it.  It was just there.  Flowing everywhere
regardless of what was in front of it or even in it.  Nothing would stop
it.  Just like his curse.  Just like everyone else's curse.  Just like
his fiancées.
	Ranma smiled bitterly.
	"There you are."
	Ranma turned and looked up from his seat in the house overlooking the
koi pond.  Akane was gazing out the open doors and held a tentative hand
out to the raging waters from above.
	"It's bad isn't it?  It's been raining like this for the entire day."
she said in awe.
	"Yeah," Ranma said halfheartedly, "it's pretty bad."  He'd wanted to
look out at the stars again, sort things out, and think.  Just think on
his own.  Away from the hurricane of a lifestyle he led.  Or was forced
to lead.
	Ranma snorted derisively, and traced a line in the floorboards of the
house.  Akane looked dawn at her iinazuke and felt a pang of empathic
sadness as she rememered his mother's last visit.

	Akane was about to start down the stairs to see who was at the door
when she heard Ranma's voice.  For some reason she felt compelled to
listen rather than return to her studying.
	"Mom!  What are you doing here?!"
	"I thought I'd pay you a visit, son."
	Ranma stood frozen in the doorway of the Tendo household as his mother
smiled at him.
	"Aren't you going to let me in?"
	Ranma began to stammer a reply when Kasumi walked to see the guest.
	"Oh my!  What a pleasant surprise!  Please, Mrs. Saotome, won't you
come in?"
	Ranma dropped his head and blushed.  He moved aside as his mother
walked in and beamed at Kasumi.
	"Why Kasumi!  It's been a while hasn't it?"
	"Mrs. Saotome, it's only been a week since you last visited; I'm sure
it's been a long time to Ranma.  He hasn't been able to stop talking
about when you last visited!"
	Ranma paled slightly.
	"Yes, it has been a week, hasn't it Ranma?"  Nodoka Saotome looked to
her son as if expecting an answer to some unspoken question.  Ranma
squirmed slightly under the loving interrogation from his mother.  A
voice from the koi pond saved him.
	"Ranma!  Get out here boy!  You're getting lazy!  A martial artist
trains whenever he has time to train!"
	"Sorry, Mom.  Gotta go train.  You know how Pops is."  Ranma ducked
from his mother's gaze and turned, no, bolted from the door to go train
with his father by the pond.  Akane was puzzled.  Ranma always loved it
when his mother visited, especially now that the seppuku fiasco was
over.  The only thing his mother could say that would make him balk was-
	Akane blinked.  Marriage.  Marriage was what made Ranma stop cold.

	Akane's mind returned to the present as she looked down at Ranma gazing
out at the rain.  Things were going so well.  Their fights had become
less and less frequent, and less heated as well.  Granted, there weren't
any "dates," or obvious romantic gestures from Ranma; but there were
more and more times when he'd smile at her and walk home with her after
school.  He'd even taken to occasionally holding hands when people
weren't watching.  But when his mother had visited yesterday, Ranma
became withdrawn once more.  It was almost as if he were trying to hide
from his mother again.
	"Ranma, your mother's still here.  Why aren't you with her and Kasumi
in the kitchen?  What happened to the 'Anything Goes Martial Arts Salad
Shooter' technique?"
	"Same as you.  Cooking's for girls." Ranma replied halfheartedly.
	Akane flinched at the remark, feeling the anger well up again; but then
she'd baited him.  It didn't even merit the usual emphatic insult.  No
cries of "tomboy."  Nothing.  Just a halfhearted "ooph" of an insult.
	"Is something wrong Ranma?  You look so depressed."  Of course she knew
something was wrong.
	"No.  I'm just tired."
	A lie.  A blatant lie.
	"You're not tired.  What's wrong Ranma?"
	Ranma gazed up sullenly from his seat.  He sighed quietly and then got
up to his feet.  He looked at Akane for a minute and then closed his
eyes and shook his head.
	"You wouldn't understand."
	"Try me." Akane smirked.  "I've been through worse things than a
simple, honest talk with you Ranma."
	Ranma smirked in return.
	"Yeah, but that's 'cuz you bat me to the other side of town first."
	Akane recoiled slightly.  Ranma noticed and quickly followed-up.
	"But I might as well tell you..."
	Akane softened, and Ranma let out a mental sigh of relief.  The sign of
imminent danger was given and he had used his brains to avoid it.  A
rare, but useful talent he had been perfecting for some time now.  He
looked at Akane intensely for a moment, as if reconsidering his
decision, but began regardless.
	"It's about the engagement," he began; but he didn't finish.	
	"You want to call it-"
	"Akane," he interrupted, "please don't second guess me.  I haven't even
finished yet.  Please listen before you say anything.  Please." he felt
like he was begging, but it was important.  It was worth begging for if
he had to.  She nodded her assent.
	"This engagement's been on my mind for some time.  After the wedding
got botched up, it's like Pop and your dad have given up on trying to
get us to marry each other.  It's been a real relief for me.  You have
no idea how good it feels to not have to go through a wedding."
	Akane felt a twinge in her stomach.  A faint knotting pain from the pit
of her gut.  She wanted to say something, but Ranma continued as if he
didn't notice.  The discomfort she felt began to shut out the words
Ranma was saying, and a dull buzzing noise filled her ears.
	"It's been great knowing I don't have your dad or Pop watching my back,
making sure I act a certain way around you or somethin'.  It's nice, you
know what I mean?"  	Ranma looked at her, and Akane numbly nodded her
head.
	"You're crying."
	Akane quickly checked herself.  She'd been too absorbed to notice.
	"Something in my eye.  I'm trying to get it out."  Akane wiped her eyes
hurriedly.
	"It's what I'm saying, isn't it.  You think I want to call off the
engagement, right?"
	"No-"
	"I thought you were going to listen first!  You haven't even been
listening have you?!"  Ranma turned his head sharply.  Akane
instinctively felt her hand ball up into a fist and then start to raise.
	"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have snapped at you."
	Akane was taken by surprise.  Ranma sat back down with a quiet 'humph'
and stared out into the drenched yard.
	"It's just that now that my mom's here, it's like it's starting all
over again.  Dad gave up after so long; but now Mom's starting to get
him back into it again.  I don't want to call off the engagement Akane;
but I don't want to be forced into it either.  But then, as much as I
want to just tell them to quit it, I don't want to disappoint Mom
either.  It means a lot to her, and I just can't say no to her."
	Akane smiled inwardly.
	"I understand, Ranma.  It's hard for both of us." she said.  Ranma
looked up at her and managed a faint grin.
	"Thanks Aka-"
	Three bolts of lightning ripped through the sky to a hill in the
distance.  A low rumbling filled their ears accentuating the silence in
area as it passed.
	"Did you see that?!" Akane whispered.
	Ranma sat with his mouth open.  He'd never seen anything like it in his
life.  Despite the numerous oddities he'd experienced, his martial arts
training had given him a sense of respect for nature.  It certainly
seemed to him now that it was something nature demanded every so often.
	"It hit that hill three times." he finally managed
	"One after another too.  And the last one seemed to stay there for a
few seconds."
	Ranma nodded his assent.
	"Boy, what are you doing?"
	Ranma and Akane turned around to see Genma Saotome leaning casually
against one of the walls in the hall.
	"Did you see that Pop?"
	"Yes.  Three times.  I've never even seen twice in the same place let
alone three."  Genma looked to Akane.  "Are you feeling well Akane?  You
look a little pale."
	"I'm fine.  Just a little chilled.  The lightning took me by surprise."
	"I see."  Genma pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose
calmly.
	"I'm going to the kitchen to help Kasumi and your mother." Akane said
over her shoulder as she walked to the kitchen.  Ranma noticed that she
had a little to much of a spring to her step as she quickly moved to the
kitchen.  He smirked and looked back outside.  
	"She's scared." Genma noted when Akane left.  His propensity to state
the blatantly obvious merited an eye-rolling routine from Ranma.  "Yes,
my boy, she is; and she needs a strong man to comfort her." he
continued.
	"Shut up, old man."
	"You should be afraid as well."
	"Why's that, Pop?"  Ranma turned to his father.
	"Tonight was supposed to be a new moon.  Bad things always happen when
the moon isn't out to watch over everyone."
	"I'm not a little kid anymore, old man.  Quit trying to scare me."
	"Nothing good can come of this ominous sign, Ranma.  Nothing."
	"You're wrong, Pop.  It's just some rain.  And don't tell me you can
feel it in your bones.  That's just 'cuz you're getting old."  Ranma
smirked.  His father had to be wrong.  Genma usually was.  
	This time he wasn't.

	Dinner had gone along smoothly.  The meal had come earlier than usual,
but was welcomed by all.  Kasumi had prepared an outstanding meal as
always, and the warmth at the table, surrounded by friends and family
alike, eased away tensions built up from the dreary day.  The food was
delicious and the air about the table boisterous and jovial; yet through
all of this, Ranma seemed to eat at a slower pace than usual, only
occasionally chastising his father for stealing food.  Nobody noticed,
save for  Akane and Nodoka Saotome.  Both were concerned, but neither
said anything to disrupt anyone.  Ranma, afterwards, had stretched and
offered a sheepish smile with the excuse that he was tired and would
practice his katas before turning in for the night.
	That was three hours ago.  Nobody seemed worried, save for Nodoka and
Akane again, but nobody moved to check on him.  Akane looked out of the
window of her room after heading upstairs to read a book.  The rain was
still coming down rather hard, and she started to worry about Ranma.
	Why the hell should I be worried about that insensitive jerk, she
thought to herself.  He never is around when I need him and he's always
so rude to me, she continued mentally.  He's never the when I need him,
she started again, unless I'm in trouble.
	Akane froze.  
	Unless I'm in trouble.  Ranma was always there when she was in
trouble.  Always there to back her up.  Always there to take the
punishment she never would have been able to take.  He always looked out
for her despite his claims not to.  Akane sighed lugubriously.
	He always has to make this so hard on me, she thought; but she was
already down the stairs and grabbing an umbrella.  She had to check on
him to make sure he was safe.  He'd done the same for her on numerous
occasions as much as she liked to deny it.  She owed it to do so for him
this time, at least.
	When she peered into the dojo from around the corner she saw Ranma was
sitting in the middle of the dojo.  No gi on, no workout.  Only the same
Ranma she saw at dinner with the same clothes and the same distant
look.  Just Ranma sitting in the middle of the dojo with his legs
crossed, deep in thought.  Ranma stirred slightly and shifted
positions.  It was obvious he was uncomfortable with something.
	"Are you just going to stand out there?" he suddenly asked.  Akane
jumped at the sudden question and saw Ranma shift positions again.
	"I heard the rain on the umbrella.  If you were trying to sneak up on
me it didn't work."
	Akane felt her free hand clench into a fist.  I came out here in the
pouring rain to check up on him and this is how he treats me, she
screamed mentally.  She wanted to run in and kick him in the head; an
easy target with him sitting down.
	"Look, if you're trying to catch pictures of me as a girl, soaking wet
from the rain and sweat so you can sell them to Kuno, it's too late. 
I'm a guy and I haven't been practicing for an hour now.  I don't care
how much money I owe you.  Go back to your room." he said calmly.
	Akane was taken aback.  Ranma thought she was her sister!  Akane
thought her luck had changed for the better, and stepped in.  When she
entered the dojo, she saw Ranma look up expectantly, only to have his
face drop.
	"It's only you.  What do you want?" he said in a resigned voice.
	Akane felt bile slowly raising in her throat.  She'd come in to check
up on him.  Wasn't that something to him?  Why did become so depressed
when she came in?
	"I just came to check on you.  Apparently I wasted my time.  You're in
a perfectly normal mood tonight.  Sorry to interrupt your road to
enlightenment."  Her voice dripped sarcasm and venom.  She pivoted on
her heel and was about the leave when she heard quick footsteps.  She
turned around to see Ranma in front of her.  He was slightly pale and he
had a frustrated look on his face.
	"Akane, why do you-  You always-  I can't stand-" he stammered.
	"You can't stand it when I'm right?" she smirked.  She immediately
wished she hadn't.
	"No!  I can't stand it when you interrupt and think I've always got
something up my sleeve!  You always assume and then pound me in the
ground or act like I'm to blame.  I hate-"
	"Uncute tomboys like me!  Right?!" she finished.  Ranma stopped from
grabbing her shoulders by fractions of an inch.  He seemed to choke on a
sentence.  Akane had never seen him so frustrated.  Suddenly it
stopped.  He relaxed instantly.
	"I-  I hate nothing.  Nothing at all.  I'm going to bed.  Goodnight."
	With that Ranma shuffled into the darkness, not even pausing to curse
at his change as he walked to the house.  Akane watched in silence as
the rain pounded him unforgivingly.  She thought she heard a depressed
sniff from Ranma, but dismissed it as a sneeze.  She followed shortly
afterward.

	Mousse was closing up the shop and locking the doors when he saw two
figures staggering down the street.  It was dark and he couldn't make
out there faces with the dim lighting from the infrequent, inadequate
streetlamps; but he could faintly make out the voices coming from them
as they staggered, no, fought there way down the street.
	"You can't run.  This ends now.  Tonight.  Forever!"
	"Go to hell-"
	"I am in hell!  This is hell!  My hell; the hell you made for me!"
	He adjusted his glasses to see better; just in time to see the glint of
lightning off of a blade.  There was the sound of metal on metal.  Three
times it sounded, and one figure staggered back and fell to the ground
underneath one of the sparse streetlights by the cafe.
	"You've lost Brutus!  Give up and die an honorable man!  I'm giving you
the chance to redeem yourself!"
	The one on the ground staggered to his feet in a daze.
	"Die an honorable man?!  You think you can give me a honorable death?! 
Don't make me laugh.  You're the shining example of the disavowed. 
Pitiful, bastard children who don't have the right to call themselves
children of the Oracles!  My soul won't be touched by the likes of you! 
Your honorable death doesn't apply to me."
	The two seemed to return to fighting.  Or staggering about, trying to
club one another in some drunken dance as it seemed.  Neither really
seemed steady on their feet.  A blow to the head from the hilt of a
sword.  A kick here, a punch there.  It seemed almost amusing except
that every so often there was the flash of steel in the lightning and
the sick, wet sucking sound as metal met flesh.  Thunder rolled in and
their conversation was droned out.  Mousse quickly crouched behind the
small stand in front of the doors to get a better view and to hear what
was going on as the two approached.
	"You can't even take a punch from a half-dead man!" shouted one.  The
other seemed to be half crouched and retching.  Blood?  There was a hint
of the metallic tang in the air, but Mousse dismissed it.
	"You've pestered me long enough insect.  This is what I think of your
damned honor!"  A sword was raised above the crouching figure with
shaking hands.  Mousse held his breath.
	"Mousse!  What you doing outside!  Close shop!"
	Mousse whirled around to see Shampoo boring into him with an intense,
stern stare.  He quickly grabbed her and dragged her down next to him,
clamping a hand over her mouth, and restraining her from punching him. 
Shampoo gave a muffled squeal as she almost contact the runoff from the
gutters; but then noticed that Mousse was suddenly pointing into the
darkness.
	Two figures in the dark again.  One on his knees, with his shoulder in
the stomach of the other.  Shampoo squinted, trying to make out the
scene.  Lightning flashed and the light played off of a sword.  It was
coming out of the back of the standing figure at a grotesque angle,
pointing at the sky.  Red bolts of lightning seemed to dance between the
two strangers.  Mist swirled around the two as if it were the eye of
small hurricane.  She grabbed Mousse and tried to bolt back indoors.
	"Mousse!  We go now!  No stay and get killed!  Great-grandmother get
mad!" she whispered fiercely.  Mousse dismissed her.  His attention was
truly focused on the two people outside.
	"Fine!  You go indoors.  Call the police.  It appears as though we've
just witnessed a murder.  I will protect us from harm."  With a small
flourish, he produced a mamaluke from his sleeve.  Shampoo slapped him
hard on the back of his head and crawled back into the Nekohanten. 
Mousse looked back to the fight.
	Now the two were separated once again.  One clutching his stomach, and
what appeared to be his internal organs, the other leaning against the
wall of one of the stores nearby brandishing his sword with as much
menace as possible.  Both were gasping for air.  The one clutching his
guts backed slowly towards the Nekohanten, trying to avoid the other's
sword.  They started speaking in a language Mousse couldn't understand.
	Suddenly all of the power went out.  No streetlamps, no occasional
backlight from one of the shops down the street.  It was black as pitch
and the darkness enveloped everything.  Lightning struck once in the
distance, but it gave enough light for Mousse to see them moving more
rapidly as the wounded (it's fatal, thought Mousse), backpedaled to
avoid the careless swings of the sword.  Too slow to be lethal, but too
fast to dismiss.  Mousse cursed his ill luck at the blackout.  He
couldn't see any of the action, and the thunder that bellowed through
the city after the lightning drowned out all sounds the fighting pair
made.
	Then they were upon him.  Thunderstruck, Mousse scrambled back, scared
witless.  He hit the runoff from the storefront and immediately
changed.  Squawking, he flapped his wings and made as much noise as
possible to distract his attackers as he pulled out three throwing
knives.  It wasn't necessary.  The body of the one apparently called
Brutus had backpedaled into the sidewalk display for the Nekohanten and
collapsed, knocking down the sign and losing his grip on his
intestines.  Mousse calmed for a split second until a bloody sword
appeared inches from his face.  Mousse instinctively knocked away the
point of the sword with one knife and threw the other two.  There was a
metallic clang as they bounced off of something and fell to the ground
with a clatter.  Mousse panicked.  He wasn't ready to die.  Luckily he
wouldn't have to.
	A scream of 'Ai-yah' suddenly came from his left and a fist connected
with Mousse's apparent assailant.  There was a loud 'whump' as a body
hit the ground, the clatter of a sword and then silence except for the
rain once again.  Mousse waddled up to the fallen body of Brutus and
peered at it curiously.  Shampoo kneeled with a kerosene lamp and
grabbed for Mousse, but froze halfway.  The body moved.  Despite the
copious amounts of blood pulsing from a gaping cavity where his
intestines had been, the one called Brutus moved.  A shaky hand brought
up a wide, but shallow pouch and dropped it on what remained of his
chest.
	"Xin-" he whispered, but then pooling blood cut off the rest of his
words, and there was nothing left but a soft gurgle.
	Shampoo quickly turned away from the sight, her body shuddering and
twitching as she held down urges to vomit.  Mousse stood transfixed by
the sight, too shocked to move.
	"A gruesome sight indeed, great-granddaughter."
	Mousse looked behind him to make out the staff Cologne was perched
upon.  Another kerosene lamp was in her wrinkled hand and the light fell
past the dead body and the other lamp Shampoo had set down nearby..  She
looked calmly at the dead body in front of her and then to the other
unconscious form past that.
	"Take the bag." she commanded, and after a long look at the unconscious
figure in the street, "We might as well bring in the other one and his
things.  You haven't killed him have you Shampoo?"
	Shampoo shook her head.
	"Then he will provide us with information.  Leave the rest to the
police.  We have much work to do."  Something about these people
troubled Cologne deeply.  As she looked at the prone figure as Shampoo
hefted the body indoors, a small white circle with black calligraphy on
the bloodstained chestplate.  It was unmistakable, and she felt a sudden
chill.  The calligraphy was Chinese.  It was the character for doom.

	Pain.  Pain from every side assaulted his senses.  It hurt to breathe,
to think, to stay conscious.  He stifled the urge to puke his guts out. 
Everything was flashing red lights and stars danced inside his eyelids. 
There was a dim light next to him.  He could make out that much from the
back of his eyelids.  Was it a candle?  A lamp?  He had no idea.  No
sounds came from around him.  No sounds except for the rain.  He winced
as he slowly opened his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the dim
light, to adjust to consciousness.  The crusted mud and sweat freed from
his eyelids and brow fell into his eyes, and he blinked them away
painfully.
	I'm not dead, he mused.  I finally took Brutus's soul and rid this
plane of existence of his worthless hide, he continued mentally.  His
eyes began to survey his surroundings.  Bags of flour, crates, and
vegetables.  A storage room for food.  Where am I and why am I here?  He
closed his eyes in thought.  It hurt his head to think and it was
clouded by blackness and the sharp flashes of pain.
	I must have been taken somewhere to be interrogated, he concluded.  He
heard steps approaching him.  He quickly closed his eyes and rolled his
head away from the noise.  He breathed as slowly as he could without
hurting himself as the door opened.  Footsteps, and then cursing.
	"I hate this!  Why do I always have to clean up these messes?!"
	Chinese.  It was distinctly Chinese, and a dialect from the mainland at
that.  Thoughts raced through his head painfully.
	Do I question this guy?  Do I run for it?  Should I stand up and fight?
	The voice kept muttering under his breath and exited the room.  A door
was closed and then the quiet pattering of the rain was heard after the
footfalls died down.
	I have to get out of here, he decided.  It was a slow agonizing process
of getting up without vomiting from the nausea, passing out from the
lack of blood, and making any noise to alert anyone he was conscious
again.  He looked around for a means of escape.  Nothing.  The room was
devoid of any means of escape he could see.  He sat down slowly and cast
about for his sword.  Nothing to be had, nowhere to be found.  He cursed
silently.  He closed his eyes as if in prayer and let his mind relax.
	I know you're listening to my thoughts Fenrir; you as well Janus.
	A voice seemed to speak softly in his mind, but with a deep power
behind it.
	We are always aware.  We simply choose only to speak when your mind
will listen.  What would you have us do?  What would you have me do for
you?
	Beads of sweat ran down his forehead.
	I must escape this place, but I no longer have the energy to do so.  My
battle with Brutus for his soul cost me more than I anticipated. 
Moreover, Long-tzu has been taken from me.  I need you to give me your
power once again.
	And what of our deal?  You still honor it?
	Yes.  I offer you the soul I bested Brutus for, in exchange for my
freedom.
	A black heart for an even darker purpose?
	His brow furrowed.
	What do you speak of Ethereal?  I wish my freedom, not  prophecies.
	Your freedom is given, but your destiny lies ahead as always.  You must
never forget that.  We are all united for that purpose.  Remember,
Avatar:  Dark and Light must unite one day; and one of them must shirk
away.  Force two to one to Ragnarok, if pure evil run amok.  To make
Doom more, to his will bend; Salvation must have seen his end.   For
Illumination, Doom must die; sprout forth bat wings and to Hell's gates
fly.  The death of one brings forth the next; lost spirits win, and
Death regrets.
	You speak in riddles Fenrir.  I have no mind for them.  But what of
Janus?  His lucidity and will bend yours towards clarity.  He chooses
not to speak?
	He and I are one and the same.  Clarity can only come with confusion. 
It would behoove you to pay mind to that, Avatar.  We are one...
	He shivered as he felt new power surge through him, yet there was the
feeling of a new emptiness as well.  He pushed it away, he made a deal
and that was the consequence of it.  Only escape was on his mind, as
weak as it was.  Speaking to his innermost demons only showed him just
how weak his mind was; but the pact was strong and he knew that there
would be no release.  Not tonight.  Tonight was one more step towards
recognition.  Atonement for a loss of face.  
	The wall didn't last long.  The concrete, stone, and steel simply gave
way under the extreme blast of energy and the air pressure he
generated.  Concentration on his feelings of pain and agony were easy. 
It felt good channeling the negative feelings into a simple projection
of energy.  It exhausted him, and he still felt pain, but less so as he
welcomed the rain on his face.  He disappeared into the night, searching
for a place to recuperate as quickly as possible.  He needed to rest and
then return to regain what he had lost.  He looked about him as he half
ran, half stumbled about in the darkness.  Adrenaline filled his body as
he fled through the blacked out city.  He could hear voices behind him,
but they were lost as he jumped over walls and turned corners as he
stumbled into them.  
	After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped.  The voices were gone,
the lightning had moved far into the distance and he was tired. 
Exhausted.  The exertion was more than he bargained for and he lost a
lot more blood than he had anticipated.  He need a place that would
raise his ki.  He closed his eyes and slowly outstretched his hands.  He
needed to feel for the weak lines of power the emanated from such a
place.  A shrine, a temple, any place that could provide his spirit with
rest; and then it was there.  A very faint outline of a building that
showed a prominent source of ki was somewhere in the distance.  He could
feel the faint lines of energy that extended outwards in all
directions.  He needed the spiritual power to heal himself badly.
	He opened his eyes slowly and began to stumble to the building.  It was
excruciating.  As the rain washed away the mud and dirt from his body,
it re-opened wounds and he began bleeding again.  The pain began to
surge back in full force.  It felt like running into a brick wall. 
Everything flashed pain again and again.  It began to blind him.  He
staggered forward again and again, desperately trying to get closer and
closer to the energy source; and then he was there.  He had no idea how
he had gotten to it, or how he had managed to survive in the process. 
The last thing he saw before he succumbed to the blackness encroaching
on his vision was a very concerned looking woman with long brown hair
and an apron.  The hand that wasn't clutching the umbrella tightly was
covering her mouth.
	"An angel...  A beautiful angel..."
	He collapsed next to a sign with the characters Ten and Do next to his
head.  The Way of Heaven.