A little delayed. <sigh> I had planned to polish this thing up a bit, 
but things kept popping up, and... Well, I'm sending this thing in rough, 
rough format, unfinished. Credits following. 

-----
Scoop of the Day
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
-----


Chapter Six: The Only Thing I Could Do



	Ukyo finished wiping the countertop and sighed. Ranma had left 
some twenty minutes ago, not heeding her hints for him to stay. This time 
of day was always the worst part for Ukyo: the lull between the departure 
of the after-school regulars and the arrival of the dinner crowd. 
Homework was a welcome distraction during this time, but all too often, 
Ukyo found herself spending the lonely hour daydreaming, usually about 
Ranma and her together. Today was no exception...

	A faint knock at the door, almost more like scratching, snapped 
Ukyo out of her reverie. *Funny; no one ever knocks before coming into 
the restaurant.* She grabbed her battle spatula from behind the counter, 
just in case, and answered the door.

	Ukyo was greeted by the sight of a rather battered-looking 
brown-haired girl standing in front of her. She looked like she had gone 
through a major disaster; scrapes and smears of dirt abounded, and her 
school uniform was a tattered and dirty version of itself. She was 
leaning heavily on the door frame, as if she were about to collapse at 
any moment. "Is...is Ranma here?" she asked weakly.

	"I'm sorry; he left about half an hour ago."

	"Okay," the girl said. Her knees began to give way. "You 
mind...if I just...lie down for a--"

	Ukyo managed to catch the smaller girl just before she hit the 
sidewalk, staring intently at the girl now lying unconscious in her arms. 
*So this is the infamous Noriko,* she thought, putting two and two 
together. *I've been wondering just what kind of girl could give him so 
much grief, and here she is, fainted on my doorstep.* Ukyo furrowed her 
brow, trying to figure out what to do with her "guest." It was true that 
Noriko had printed some ugly things about her beloved Ranchan, and just a 
few hours ago, Ukyo would just as soon have barred her from the 
restaurant. She looked so helpless lying there, though. Surely this 
sleeping girl wasn't the same Noriko who had tried to kill Ranma in the 
journalism room...?

	She sighed with resignation and began to pull the unconscious 
journalist inside to tend to her injuries. *People may think a lot of 
things about me, but I'm no monster,* she thought grimly.

	

	Some time later, Noriko found herself walking back home after 
spending an hour or two recuperating at the restaurant. All things 
considered, the afternoon had been a complete waste of time. "No, Ranma 
isn't here," Ukyo had said while handing her a bandage for the wound on 
her side, "and I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to see you, 
either." Still not in a condition to walk home, Noriko had stayed in the 
restaurant, slowly eating an okonomiyaki in silence while Ukyo buried her 
nose in a book ("Zen and the Art of Okonomiyaki"). Any attempts to start 
conversation were only met with short, noncommittal replies from the 
okonomiyaki chef. Alhtough Ukyo acted civilly enough, her demeanor made 
it rather clear that she would be much more comfortable when Noriko was 
out of the restaurant, and the sooner the better. Finally, there was 
nothing else to do but head home.

	*Martial arts,* she thought glumly as she slowly made her way 
home, the dipping sun beginning to lengthen the shadows on the ground. 
*I'm never going to get away, am I?* She paused her train of thought to 
listlessly kick a pebble on the sidewalk. With a humorless smile, Noriko 
realized that some years ago, she would never had asked such a question. 
She used to love the activity, eagerly going to lessons each week, until...

	Had it been so long ago? It was in the sixth grade, and some big 
eighth grader and a couple of his friends had cornered her behind the 
school when the teacher wasn't around, demanding her lunch money. *So 
cliche,* Noriko thought wryly as she remembered the incident. The leader, 
or whatever, had grabbed her arm in an attempt to wrest the paltry sum 
from her hand; out of desperation, Noriko performed a deft movement she 
had practiced in class the day before.

	Everything was hazy after that. Noriko remembered only an odd 
popping sound, and the horrified looks on the others' faces as the kid 
lay sprawled on the ground, screaming in pain, his arm bent at a curious 
angle. The other kids eagerly rushed to the scene, teachers quickly 
following. Terrified, Noriko ran away, her lunch money forgotten as she 
hid in an empty classroom, sobbing uncontrollably.

	It turned out, of course, that she had only dislocated his elbow. 
Given the already outstanding record that particular group of kids had 
for bullying, the principal let her off with a reprimand for not alerting 
a teacher instead of resorting to force. But when it came time for her 
martial-arts lesson again, she refused to go, feigning illness (which 
wasn't stretching the truth too much). She never set foot in the dojo 
again after that.

	Noriko shuddered with the recollection, the shame and loathing 
still strong after four years. What disturbed her most about the 
incident, though, wasn't the memory of the tears of pain running down the 
bully's face, or the fearful looks her peers would give her for months 
afterwards -- it was the black thrill she had felt running down her spine 
as she flawlessly executed the technique, neatly moving the bone from its 
normal place. 

	Feeling that dark excitement scared her beyond belief, and ever 
since then she had taken pains to avoid ever experiencing the joy of 
hurting someone else, of being a martial artist. But after all these 
years, was that what she still was? Back in the journalism room with 
Ranma, she wanted to hurt him, and badly. And this afternoon, Noriko 
couldn't shake the fact that a small part of her gloried when she struck 
her final blow, rendering the kendoist unconscious.

	She arrived home, mechanically changed out of her torn uniform, 
flopped onto her bed, and closed her eyes. *No matter what I do, someone 
is going to get hurt...* Sleep didn't come for a long time.



	The after-school meeting arrived the next day, but Noriko found 
that the usual eager spark that hastened her feet to the journalism room 
was gone, in its place a dull, cold ache that showed little sign of going 
away. She knew perfectly well why she felt this way, too -- today was the 
day she was to give her printed retraction of her feature editorial to 
Watanabe-sensei. Her final decision was one she would rather not have 
made, but Noriko felt deep in her heart that she really had no other 
choice. *It's the only thing I can do for the paper,* she thought to 
herself, mentally reviewing the exact words she was planning to tell her 
crew.

	The meeting itself passed swiftly enough, with assignments being 
doled out to various reporters, until the announcements portions of the 
agenda arrived. Mr. Watanabe stood up in front of the room. "If you 
remember, I made an announcement earlier this month that the 'Informer's' 
financial standings were in jeopardy, and that we might not make it 
through another year." He paused for dramatic effect. "Well, I have some 
rather good news for you. I was contacted by Principal Kuno this 
afternoon. This is strictly unofficial, of course, but it seems that the 
'Informer' will most likely receive its funding after all." Mr. Watanabe 
allowed the cheering and hubbub to subside before continuing.

	"Principal Kuno didn't give any indication of what had caused him 
to change his mind, of course, so we can only speculate as to why he made 
the decision he did." A strange perturbation crossed his expression as he 
made his last statement. "But in any case, it looks like the 'Informer' 
is alive and well, at least for another year. Congratulations, crew!" The 
crew clapped and cheered, turning to each other and giving 'High fives' 
and slaps on the back. Suzuki caught Noriko's attention for a moment and 
grinned at her, but she turned away, her expression unreadable.

	Suzuki frowned in puzzlement. *Shouldn't she be happy about the news?*

	Mr. Watanabe spoke. "All right, that's it for today, kids. Dismissed."

	"Wait!" Noriko said. "Could I make a special announcement?" A 
little surprised, Mr. Watanabe nodded and stepped down, allowing Noriko 
to take center stage.

	Noriko looked out at the faces of her crew, attentive and loyal. 
How could she possibly let them down? "Hi, guys," she began a bit 
nervously. "Well, before I say anything else, congratulations to all of 
you on this recent news. Your work and dedication has been a huge part of 
what the 'Informer' is today." She paused and took a deep breath. "I wish 
I could take part in your happiness, but I'm afraid I can't."

	Puzzled murmurs went around the room. "Some time ago, I...did 
something directly against everything I and the 'Informer' stand for. I 
acted rashly and irresponsibly, not paying attention to professionalism 
or anything. I guess I let you all down. I...I tried to make things 
right, but all my efforts just ended in disaster. I really tried; I..." 
Noriko fought the emotions churning within her stomach as she tried her 
best to continue. "I wish I could tell you all that's happened, 
everything about why I have to do and what I'm about to do. But I can't. 
I...this paper is so important to me, and so are you. That's why I have 
no choice but to make my final decision."

	Noriko took another deep breath. "I, Noriko Hirauchi..." Her 
voice broke, but she managed to catch herself before she lost control. 
"I, Noriko Hirauchi, am hereby resigning from my position of 
editor-in-chief and rescind all affiliation I have with the 'Furinkan 
Informer.'"

	Startled gasps and protest erupted from the crew. "Noriko!" Mr. 
Watanabe said sharply. She waved a hand quickly to call for quiet.

	"I can't tell you why I'm doing this, or even what I did that 
forced me to make this decision. Mr. Watanabe will appoint a new 
editor-in-chief in my place, with your approval. I'd like to offer my 
endorsement of Toren Suzuki as my replacement. Suzuki has shown 
extraordinary dedication and vision for the 'Informer' for the three 
years he's been on the crew, as well as being an extremely supportive 
layout editor...and friend." Noriko looked over by Gosunkugi at Suzuki's 
stunned expression and smiled sadly. "Please...don't tell anyone else 
outside of this room what I've done. Keep this inside, no 
announcements...just change the masthead without any noise. I wish I 
could tell you more, but you'll just have to trust me. The future of the 
'Informer' could depend on how well you keep this secret."

	"I...I have to go," Noriko abruptly finished, grabbing her stuff 
and disappearing from the journalism room before anyone could react. The 
room instantly turned into a mild scene of chaos, with everyone talking 
at once, trying to figure out just what had happened.

	"Noriko Hirauchi!" Mr. Watanabe voiced ineffectually at the door 
through which Noriko had left. Suzuki sprang to his feet and tore out the 
room after her. 



	Noriko walked slowly down the hall, her head lowered in shame and 
sorrow. *It was the only thing I could do; the "Informer" will still get 
funding, at least for another year or so, and Suzuki will get the 
editor-in-chief like he deserves, and...it was the only thing I could do! 
The only thing I could do...*

	Noriko felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw Suzuki, 
his face a mixture of sympathy and confusion. "Chief...do you want to 
talk about it? I mean, this is all pretty sudden and all..."

	She looked up into Suzuki's face, her eyes wet. "Please, 
Suzuki... I'm not 'Chief' anymore. I'm just plain old Noriko now." She 
turned and broke free of his touch, and started towards the door. 
Undaunted, Suzuki followed after.

	"Wait! Noriko..." He touched her shoulder once more, and Noriko 
obligingly stopped.

	"Please...just let me go," she pleaded, not meeting his gaze.

	"Wait... Could you at least tell me what's bugging you so much?" 
Noriko remained impassive, bleakly staring at the floor. "Let's...let's 
just go take a walk, okay?" he asked a bit desperately. "You...you don't 
have to tell me anything if you don't want to. All right?"

	After a moment, Noriko slowly and silently nodded her assent.



	The pair walked awhile within the school grounds, neither of them 
saying a word. Every now and then, Suzuki would concerned furtive looks 
at Noriko, hoping to read her expression or find some clue to explain her 
behavior, but to no avail. Abruptly, Noriko stopped short, her gaze 
directed forward. Suzuki turned his glance in the direction of his 
partner's, and suddenly noticed the gaping hole in the wall surrounding 
the school.

	"Boy, I wonder what happened here," he said, breaking the silence.

	"It's...a long story," Noriko finally said.

	"You mean you were there when it happened?" Suzuki asked, the 
surprise evident in his voice.

	Noriko nodded, and fell silent once more. Suzuki decided to try 
his question one more time. "So...do you want to talk about all of this?"

	"All of what?" she replied evasively.

	"You know, about...the paper and everything. What's happening?" 
No answer from the glum journalist. "Please...you can tell me. I'm your 
friend, right? I'll listen," he prodded gently.

	Noriko sighed deeply, looking at Suzuki for the first time since 
they had begun their walk. Did she dare tell him? Did she dare not? But 
she had been keeping it all inside for so long...

	A nearby bench provided Noriko with a seat. Suzuki took a seat on 
a rock close by, and patiently waited. Finally, she spoke. "You 
know...about the time I assigned you and Gosunkugi to tail Ranma?"

	Actually, Suzuki didn't, since his memory was still spotty 
concerning that day, but he didn't want to spoil what little momentum she 
had. "Go on," he said, attentive.

	"Well, when you two came back all bandaged up, I blamed it all on 
Ranma. But that wasn't really when the whole thing started..." And so she 
continued, haltingly at first, the words coming easier and easier as she 
finally spilled what she had been secretly bottling inside for so long. 
Words and sentences spilled into each other awkwardly as she let her 
story out. "I...I didn't know what to do," she finished, a catch in her 
voice. "It was either doom the paper or give up my principles, so...so I 
decided to resign. There wasn't anything else I could do, nothing that 
wouldn't hurt someone else."

	Suzuki stayed silent for a moment, internalizing the information. 
"Noriko...why didn't you tell anyone else about this? I mean, you could 
have talked to Watanabe-sensei, and he could have--"

	"No!" Noriko cried a bit more sharply than she meant to. "I 
_couldn't_ tell Watanabe-sensei, not after all I did and all he said. 
There was no way...I _had_ to make my decision on my own."

	"You know...," Suzuki began, unsure about exactly how he should 
phrase his next remark. "I think your problem might be that you've been 
trying to simply run away, rather than face up to the problem."

	"What?" Noriko asked, a bit stunned. "What do you mean?"

	"I mean, when you think about it, you never really made a 
decision. Kuno-kouchou gave you a choice: take his offer or leave it. But 
resigning...that's not the answer, Noriko. It's like running away, 
letting someone else deal with the mess. You've got to fix what you've 
done, Noriko."

	Noriko didn't quite like the way this was going. "So what would 
you have me do, let the 'Informer die?"

	"The 'Informer' was going to lose funding anyway, wasn't it?" he 
said a bit too defensively. "But suddenly, out of the blue, Kuno-kouchou 
makes you an offer to keep the paper going; all you need to do is sell 
Ranma out--"

	"That's not fair!" Noriko protested, her voice rising a bit. "You 
think this has been easy for me?"

	"Do you think it's been easy for Ranma, either?" Suzuki retorted. 
"He didn't do a thing at all, but he's the one that's going to suffer in 
the end, when all's said and done. He'll never know that some time ago, 
someone traded his reputation for some funding."

	"I don't think I like the way you're talking to me," Noriko shot 
back. "I thought you were here to listen."

	"And I don't like the way you think everything's gonna be solved 
just by packing up and leaving! What if Kuno-kouchou decides later that 
it wasn't enough? What if he wants another martial-artist targeted in the 
paper? And who's going to stop him? Certainly not the editor-in-chief; 
she gave up a long time ago--"

	"Stop it! I don't want to hear it!" 

	"Oh? What're you going to do; pull rank again? You can't do that 
-- you just resigned twenty minutes ago!"

	"That was low, Suzuki," Noriko said softly, her eyes dark. "I 
already said I was sorry for that."

	Suzuki sighed. "You're right -- I didn't mean to say that. 
But...you can't just quit. It's your duty as a journalist to right 
whatever wrongs you might have done. It's...it's not like to you be like 
this."

	Noriko slumped back in her seat, defeated. "What should I do, 
then?" she asked, her voice tired.

	"The right thing. Print the retraction. We can worry about the 
'Informer's' funding later. But don't give in to Kuno-kouchou's pressure. 
We've got to take a stand." He paused, waiting for Noriko's reaction, but 
none came. "Come on, let's go get that retraction printed. Okay?"

	No response. "What's it going to be, Noriko?" he probed further. 
"The right thing, or...?"

	The world seemed to stand still for the two as Noriko was faced 
with the decision that she had been trying to escape for so long. Agony, 
indecision crossed her face until finally, she spoke. 

	"I...I can't...," she finally whispered, tears beginning to well 
up. "I'm sorry..."

	Suzuki's expression fell. Slowly, deliberately, he got up to his 
feet. "Funny; I believed in you once," he muttered, disappointment nearly 
tangible in his voice. "I guess I was wrong. See you around, Chief." He 
turned and started back towards the school building.

	"Wait!" she cried, half-rising from her seat. If Suzuki had 
heard, he showed no sign of it as he stolidly continued towards the 
building, finally disappearing through the door. Defeated, Noriko sank 
back onto the bench. Suzuki's last words still stung like a jagged shard 
of obsidian, not because of the words themselves, but because of who they 
came from. He had always been a good friend, and perhaps more...? But was 
it true what he had said? Was she so far gone from her original ideals 
that she wasn't the same editor-in-chief she was just a few weeks ago?

	"Why is it that I always end up doing the wrong thing?" she asked 
aloud in despair.

	"Indeed, such a young flower of life should not be thinking such 
self-impugning thoughts," came a response from somewhere behind her.

	The ache inside immediately transformed into a cold sink of dread 
as Noriko turned to see Tatewaki Kuno standing behind her. 
"K-Kuno-sempai!" Almost as if on cue, her side began to smart, as if to 
remind her of how dangerous Kuno could be. *I don't stand a chance; not 
again...*

	"Young Hirauchi!" he answered in response, apparently not 
noticing the tremor in Noriko's voice. "I see it now: hoping to find me 
once again, you have returned to our first place of meeting, only to find 
to your disappointment that I was not there." He opened his arms wide in 
embrace. "Never fear, I have arrived; come, let us away to share our 
love!" Love-crazed (or perhaps just crazed), the upperclassman rushed 
forward to sweep the smaller journalist off of her literal feet.

	"Ack!" Noriko leaped to one side from her seat in time to avoid 
Kuno's amorous attack. "What are you talking about??" she asked in alarm. 

	"Need I say the words again?" Kuno replied as he readied himself 
for another lunge. "Noriko Hirauchi, I love you! I would date with you!" 

	*He...he's not trying to beat me this time,* she thought with 
some panicked relief as she narrowly escaped his embrace. *But is this 
any better?!* 

	Kuno lunged once more, and this time, his efforts were rewarded. 
The kendoist held his prize tightly in his arms, tears of joy streaming 
down his face. "How I have missed you!" he cried, tightening his embrace. 

	"AAAAAUGH!" she cried, clenching her fists. "Let go of me!! 
Somebody HELP!!" Noriko struggled, but to no avail. Kuno had her, but 
good; it was only a matter of time now before--

	<mish>

	Kuno's grip on her suddenly relaxed. Frantically, Noriko wriggled 
free of his suddenly limp hold, and saw the knee of a red-haired girl 
planted square in the upperclassman's face. "This guy botherin' ya?" the 
girl asked, rough humor in her voice. Kuno slumped to the ground without 
another sound.

	"R-Ranma!" Noriko exclaimed. 

	Ranma looked at the girl he had just rescued, his eyes suddenly 
narrowing in recognition. "Hey...it's _you_," he said, the feminine lilt 
to his female voice suddenly suspicious. "You're not gonna try and stab 
me with that pen of yours again, are you?"

	Noriko looked down at the ground, shame suddenly filling her. 
"I...," she said, unable to justify herself.

	"Say," Ranma said cautiously, "you wouldn't know about an 
appointment at Ucchan's yesterday, would you?"

	Noriko nodded. "When I got there...you had already left. I meant 
to apologize to you, but I guess I was too late. I'm sorry. For 
everything," she answered, bowing deeply.

	"Oh yeah? Well, ah...all right, then," he faltered at the 
unexpectedly meek response, putting a hand behind his head. Noriko 
guessed with a pang of guilt that given her previous track record, he had 
been expecting a reaction of a much more...volatile nature. "So, 
um...what kept ya?"

	Noriko regarded the unconscious kendoist nervously. "He did," she 
elaborated, hoping that Ranma wouldn't force her to recount the 
unpleasant incident.

	Ranma grinned, putting the pieces together. "So now ol' Kuno's 
after your heart, too, huh? Hey, I'm sorry," he said with real sympathy.

	At the sound of his name, Kuno began to stir. "What foul...," he 
muttered, blinking his eyes. After a few seconds, his eyes regained 
focus. On Ranma. "Pig-tailed girl! Fear not: I am well. Come, let us--" 
he began to spout, rapidly getting to his feet and advancing towards the 
redhead at an alarming rate. A strangled yelp and a drop kick later, Kuno 
was nowhere near Furinkan.

	"Whew," Ranma said, relieved. "I'd offer you some advice, but as 
you can see...," he gestured towards the still-shrinking form of Kuno in 
the sky.

	"How can you do that?" Noriko asked, a trace of horror in her voice.

	"Ah, it's not much," Ranma answered modestly. "It's easy after 
you've practiced as much as I have. The trick is getting your hips--"

	"No, not that," Noriko interrupted. "It's just...oh, never mind. 
Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

	"Um, sure...go ahead," Ranma answered a bit reluctantly.

	"You're the most well-known martial artist in Furinkan, and for 
good reason, I guess. You fight at least every week, probably every day. 
But doesn't it get to you? All the violence, day after day?"

	"Well, why should it?" Ranma said a bit defensively. "If I didn't 
fight, I'd get rusty."

	"Why is it so important to you that you don't get rusty, if you 
don't mind me asking?"

	Ranma paused for a moment, a bit taken aback by the unusual 
question. It had always gone without saying that he would always try to 
become the best in the world, but as to why...? Why does a duck want to 
swim? "It's...just part of me, I guess. I started up on the Art probably 
before I could even walk. Besides, I enjoy it."

	"You enjoy hurting other people?" Noriko asked, a bit horrified.

	"It's not like that!" Ranma shot back.

	Noriko winced at her own carelessness, realizing that her 
question had been a loaded one. Still, she needed to know the truth. Was 
there more to the martial arts than she thought? "Well, then...what _is_ 
it like? I used to think I knew, but...I'm not so sure anymore. Please," 
she implored, "I'd like to know."

	Ranma's temper deflated a bit at the journalist's apparent 
sincerity. "Is this for the newspaper or something?" he asked, trying to 
keep a hold on his suspicion. 

	Noriko flushed a bit at the mild accusation. "No...it's for 
myself. All off the record," she reassured with a small smile.

	"Well..." He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "Look, 
I don't get jollies hurting people, or anything like that. Well, maybe 
Kuno sometimes," he amended, jerking his head in the direction Kuno had 
last been seen traveling, "but not other people. That's not the point of 
the Art. It's...it's like building up yourself, improving -- and when you 
fight, it's more like a contest. Who's got more skill, who knows the most 
techniques?"

	The memory of her encounter in the first grade flashed across 
Noriko's mind once more. "But don't you ever accidentally injure someone? 
I mean, the point of fighting is to inflict pain, isn't it?" 

	"Fighting, yeah, but not martial arts. It's different." Seeing 
that Noriko still looked a bit uncertain, he tried again. "Look, it's 
true -- a lot of techniques in the Art are about hurting people, 
sometimes a lot. There are tricks I know I'd never actually use unless I 
was sure there was absolutely no other way. They're just too dangerous, 
both for me and the other guy. But the Art is about more than that." 
Ranma stopped, unsure whether to go on.

	"So what _is_ it about?" Noriko probed, fascinated. This all 
seemed so familiar, but she couldn't quite place it...

	Encouraged, the martial artist continued. "It's...well, it's 
about mastery. Always being in control of yourself and your situation, so 
that you'll never use a technique if you don't have to. Never using it 
against someone who can't defend themselves, and using it to protect them 
since they can't. You know. Responsibility. The warrior's code. Budo, right?"

	Noriko caught the reference. "Right," she answered, a rueful 
smile on her face. "I guess I still have a lot to learn, huh? I thought I 
knew it all..."

	Ranma flustered a bit again. "Yeah, well...you're not all that 
bad, actually. You still training?"

	It took a second for Noriko to realize what he was talking about. 
"Oh, no...I haven't trained for a long time," she said, surprised at the 
touch of wistfulness in her voice.

	"Oh. Too bad; you've actually got some potential there. With a 
bit more practice..." With a hint of self-consciousness, he glanced at 
the sky, quickly noting the sun about to start setting. "Oh, geez. I've 
gotta get going or Akane's gonna kill me. Um, nice talking to ya, I 
guess. Well, seeya!" he said, waving briefly and turning to leave.

	"Thanks for answering my questions!" Noriko called out as Ranma 
vaulted off the school wall, and disappeared. Sitting down once more, she 
thought a bit about Ranma's words. *A warrior's honor...* That was what 
she had been missing all along, wasn't it? It wasn't just about power and 
dominating other people, it was also about the responsible use of that 
power. Come to think of it, that didn't just apply to martial arts, 
either. Any sort of power carried responsibility with its use, didn't it, 
whether it be a martial artist's skills, a scientist's knowledge, a 
government official's authority, or a journalist's influence...?

	*I've misjudged you again, Ranma,* she thought as she got up, a 
look of resolve crossing her face. *Maybe I'm not so great at control in 
the martial aspect, but I can at least work on making sure I use my 
powers as a journalist responsibly.* With a confidence she hadn't felt in 
weeks, Noriko turned around and began to walk back towards Furinkan High 
School.



-----

THE FURINKAN INFORMER

FEBRUARY 7, 199-



---CORRECTION---

	The January 10th edition of the _Furinkan Informer_ contained a 
feature article titled "Martial Arts: Crime Fodder?" which contained 
numerous false accusations against Ranma Saotome, a sophomore student at 
Furinkan High School. The feature also inaccurately portrayed the 
philosophy behind the martial arts. While the _Furinkan Informer_ is 
aware that little can be done to undo the damage to reputation, it 
extends a sincere apology for the author's lack of professionalism and 
responsibility. 

		---Noriko Hirauchi, editor-in-chief

-----



	Suzuki finished reading and put the latest edition of the 
"Informer" back down. "Noriko?" he started a bit hesitantly.

	"Hm?" she asked, filing something away in a cabinet.

	"I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for being a jerk out there 
yesterday afternoon. You're right -- you needed someone to listen to you, 
and I just--"

	"Don't worry about it," Noriko reassured. "I...was kind of 
thoughtless myself. We _both_ had things on our minds..."

	"Uh-huh," Suzuki agreed, leaving it at that. "But...I guess if 
there weren't any jerks around, there wouldn't be any stories to write, huh?"

	"Or retractions to print," Noriko replied with a wry expression.

	"Point," Suzuki agreed. "So...what do you think will happen?" he 
asked, gesturing towards the newspaper on the desk.

	"Oh, Kuno-kouchou will probably send me a notice soon telling me 
that our funding has been cut off," she answered with a studied casualness.

	Suzuki looked at Noriko carefully. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

	"Yeah...I think so," she answered, meeting Suzuki's gaze and 
smiling sadly. "It was the only thing I could do."





end part six


Author's Ramblings:

    And here is where it ends. For now. For months, I had planned to keep 
going, launch some convoluted plan that would save the Informer, get Kuno 
off of Noriko's back, pound some appreciation of the martial arts back 
into Noriko, and finally get Suzuki and Noriko together. Yeah. I started 
the ball rolling way back in August last year, and tried keeping it 
rolling... and it's stopped rolling. Well, maybe the spark will ignite 
again someday.

    And now, for some much-deserved thank-yous and credits to those who 
were part of this production. In chronological order (roughly):

	- A big thanks to Mike Loader who helped me out with the info on 
high school journalism that I wanted, and even helped flesh out some of 
my early ideas. Without him, this thing would never have gotten off the 
ground.

	- Thanks to both Zen and Sebastian for being so supportive of 
this thing the first time around. 

	- Thanks to Travis Butler who wrote a very insightful and involved 
C&C featuring Lyra, Windir and Frito, who were kind enough to point out 
the glaring inconsistencies and gaffes present in the first iteration.

	- Thanks to a pair of individuals who wished to remain nameless. 
They showed me the technical errors abundant in the first version and 
helped bring about the second version.

	- Thanks to Krista Perry and Mike Noakes who took my second 
version and helped refine it into the version you're reading right now 
(well, except for this part, which I haven't gotten a chance to revise 
yet). I'll miss you guys, Krista and Mike. :(

	- And finally, thanks to you, for reading. Sounds corny, but 
really, I appreciate the audience. A fanfic without an audience 
is...well, and unread fanfic, I guess. 

    Anyway, that's it for my going-away present! Happy writing, and 
remember, at all times, have fun! :)

---
Raphael See