Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first 
published
by Shogakugan in Japan and brought over to North American by Viz
Communications.

Hi.  This is not my first fanfic, but it is my first attempt at
posting something to the FFML... due to the limitations of
Hotmail, I am unable to subscribe to the FFML, so if any C&C
could please be directed to me privately at my e-mail address,
I'd be grateful.  I'm posting this fic in the hope that I can have 
comments on it to help me make it as good as possible before posting it 
to RAAC, so any comments are not only encouraged but very much 
appreciated.  In terms of timeline, this takes place after V38, and in 
fact makes extensive use of elements of the final storyline.  

Chapter 2 : Tangled Webs (1 of 3)

     Jusenkyou in the early morning.

     Mist shrouded the veritable forest of bamboo poles that
sprouted, seemingly at random, from the hundreds of pools that
filled the deep valley, protected on all sides by the high
mountains of the Bayankala range.  The air was crisp and clean,
filled with the faint tang of fresh water and the scent of the
new dawning of spring.  Muted light from the just-risen sun
filtered through the cloudy streamers lingering around the poles,
and in places made the clear water of the pools sparkle brightly
and appear deceptively inviting.  Solitude and emptiness in the
streaming sunlight, none to see her but the air and the water and
the mist.

     She danced atop the poles, a graceful figure in a green
robe cinched tight at her slim waist by a black belt and slit
high up the sides along the legs for maneuverability.  Long hair,
straight and midnight-black and hanging almost to her waist,
whirled behind her as she moved, gliding gracefully from one
unarmed form to another as she leaped from pole to pole.  Any
slip meant disaster, and she knew it.  The elders of the tribe
had forbidden training at Jusenkyou long ago, except as a
punishment for breaking certain laws.

     She was here anyway, for though she was not even yet old
enough to be counted as a full woman, not even old enough to have
even a partial vote on the Council, she knew that she was good
enough to train here.

     And she was.  There were no slips, no narrow escapes, only
the smooth flow of her body, lithe and slender as a bending
willow tree.  The morning mist clung to her face, her hands, her
hair, as she leapt from pole to pole with an easy, practiced
grace.

     Kick.  Punch.  Turn.  Kick.  Punch.  Spin.  No hint of any
thought to the transition, just a smooth flow.  Water flowing
over rock, wearing it down bit by bit.  That was the strategy
that had won her the tournament this year, against foes stronger
and bigger than she was.  Water over rock.  Dancer in the mist.
No distractions.

     And suddenly, there was.  Up there, above the curtain of
mist, a vague shape, a winged shape, too big to be a bird.  The
shape all wrong for a bird; her eyes followed it instinctively,
tracking a possible foe.

     A momentary distraction, but enough, combined with a bamboo
pole slick with morning dew, a bamboo pole little wider than her
thumb.  She slipped, just a little, but it was enough.  Down,
down she fell, towards the spring below, towards the jewel-fine
crystal sparkle of the waters...

     And someone caught her.  Slender arms, one under her knees,
the other around her waist.  The beating of great wings.

     "Don't worry.  I've got you," a voice said.  The voice of a
boy bordering on manhood, but with a strange, musical accent to
it.

     The wings beat again, and she was too stunned with this
utterly alien experience, the experience of flying, if only for a
second, to do anything, to even speak.  They landed on the damp
ground near the pool, and he set her down.  The grass was wet and
springy under her feet.

     She looked at her rescuer.  A handsome boy, about the same
age as her, slender and fine-featured.  Bright green eyes and
dark brown hair, long in the back and tied into a ponytail.

     A handsome boy with black-feathered wings, and hands that
were half human hands and half the talons of a bird.  His feet
were those of a bird as well, bare and taloned and digging into
the ground slightly for purchase.

     "Phoenix Mountain," she breathed slowly.  They were only
legend, but such conflicting legend.  The elders had always
spoken of them as stories when she asked, but there'd been a
strange look in the eye of some of them.

     "Yeah," the boy said.  "That's where I come from.  It's my
home."

     "What... why..."

     She hated the way she sounded, confused and unsure.  She was
Joketsuzoku, not just some foolish village girl.  The winged boy
smiled at her, and she tried to force herself to look cold and
controlled.

     But oh, he was so beautiful, and his eyes were so bright...

     She'd thought they were human hands, when he'd caught her.
The talons looked sharp, but they'd been so gentle.

     "What?  Why?" the boy said, jokingly mimicking her.  "Well,
that's the Nannichuan you almost fell into there.  That's the
what, I suppose.  And the why?  I couldn't let you fall in.
You're too pretty to get turned into a man."

     She narrowed her eyes.  "I am Joketsuzoku."

     The boy shrugged his shoulders; it made his wings ripple
like a dark cloak around his slim body.  "And I am of Phoenix
Mountain."

     She relaxed slightly.  He had saved her.  And he seemed
friendly.  And she had never met anyone with wings before.  She
extended her hand to him.

     "Khu Lon."

     He gripped her wrist in his taloned hand, and she did the
same to him.  His grip was gentle, though now that she was paying
attention she could feel the texture was wrong for human skin.
But the rest of him seemed human, except for those beautiful,
silky wings.  "And I am Samofere."

**********

     Cologne woke slowly, her body stiff and her joints creaking.
She often felt like this when she woke up, but it was
particularly bad today.  She shouldn't have fallen asleep in the
chair like this.

     She hadn't meant to, of course.  But the thick tome, with
its hundreds of pages covered with her own tiny handwriting, had
entirely occupied her attention for the past two days.  She'd
sent Shampoo away each time the girl had asked if she needed
anything; finally, she'd told her not to disturb her anymore
until she was finished.  That had been... a few hours ago, in her
memory.  Probably more.  She wasn't sure how long she'd been
asleep; the thick curtains were drawn, entirely blocking out
whatever sunlight there might be and only the small desk lamp
gave illumination to read by, leaving most of the room, the small
bed and smaller dresser, draped in pools of shadow.

     Next to the book were dozens of loose pieces of paper, all
scattered randomly around the desk like fallen leaves and covered
with quickly scrawled charts, diagrams, tables of correlations
and possible interpretations.  There was little doubt in her
mind, though.  There had not been for some time.  But what had
occured in the last few weeks was the final confirmation, the
final fulfillment.

     She had to check her notes again, check the other books,
make sure of it.  There could be no doubt; none at all, not even
in her mind.  For to do what she must, she had to be absolutely
sure.

     Someone knocked on the door outside, which both startled her
and gave her a slight feeling of annoyance.  She'd asked Shampoo
not to disturb her.

     "Yes?" she called out, hopping out of the chair and wincing
at how stiff she felt.

     "Cologne?"

     It wasn't Shampoo.  "What is it, boy?"

     "Shampoo wants to know if you're alright," Mousse answered
from the other side of the door.

     Cologne smiled slightly.  Clever girl; checking on her again
without actually defying her wishes to be left alone.  "I'm fine,
boy.  Shouldn't you be working?"

     "We don't open for another two hours," Mousse said a bit
peevishly, his voice muffled by the wood of the door.  "You've
been in here for nearly three days now, old ghoul!  What are you
up to?  Don't you realize that Shampoo can't ever have Ranma?"

     That made her temper flare; it hit far too close to home in
more ways than one.  She threw open the door and glared up at
Mousse, trailing her eyes up from the fringe of his robe to his
dark eyes.  One of them sported a large, yellow-black bruise over
it, causing him to squint it almost shut.  The other one was
squinting as well, trying desperately to see without his glasses.

     "I see Shampoo's been responding to your affections as
enthusiastically as always," she said sarcastically.  Mousse
scowled and glared down at the potted plant two feet away from
her.

     "She's only wasting her time with Ranma," Mousse said with a
disdainful tone.  "She'll realize I'm the one for her sooner or
later."

     Cologne smacked him on the foot with her staff and left him
hopping up and down on one leg and holding a one-sided exchange
of insults with the potted plant.  She felt too weary to hop on
her staff right now; she almost needed to use it to hold herself
upright as she walked, the soft rustle of one slipper placing
itself on the floor followed a second later by the tap of wood
meeting wood as the tip of the staff contacted the floorboards.

     Down the hall she went, and around the corner, hearing
Mousse stop shouting at the plant as she started down the other
end of the hallway.  His footsteps clumped down the stairs that
led to the first floor, and she heard the familiar bang of the
back door of the kitchen slamming shut as he headed outside to
throw knives at the target he'd made out of several empty wooden
boxes that supplies had been delivered in.  He did that more and
more these days.  It might have worried her, if the alternative
hadn't been worse, which was him going out and throwing knives at
Ranma.

     Shampoo's room was at the end of the hallway, at the front
end of the building.  The door was closed, which meant that her
great-grandaughter was in the room.  She rapped on the door with
her staff, and heard Shampoo's voice answer almost immediately.

     "Go away, Mousse!  I say no date!  You want me do other eye
as well?"

     "It's your great-grandmother, child," Cologne said.  The
door was open before she finished the sentence, her
great-grandaughter standing in the doorway with a concerned
expression marring the delicate lines of her face.

     "Great-grandmother alright?" the girl said quickly.  Her
face tightened, and then she slowly spoke again.  "Are you
alright, great-grandmother?"

     "<We can speak Chinese if you want, Shampoo,>" Cologne said
as she stepped through the doorway and into the room.  She tapped
the door closed with her staff and let it swing shut before
turning her attentions back to her great-grandaughter.

     "Shampoo... I am supposed to get practice speak Ja- speaking
Japanese," the girl said haltingly.  Cologne could almost see her
shaping the words inside her head before she let them out.

     "<Just this time won't hurt,>" Cologne said.  She glanced
around the room; sparse and generally spartan.  Even she had been
astonished by all the luxuries available here when she came back;
it had been many years since she'd been in Japan.  Her
great-grandaughter, used to the more simple life of the village,
had been somewhat overwhelmed.  There was little evidence of
either the village or the new home in the room; it looked as if
it had been prepared beforehand and the owner simply plunked down
into it.  A bed, a dresser, a mirror, a small desk and chair.  A
closet, into which those clothes that didn't fit into the dresser
went.  Inconsequential things, no distinction to them.

     The weapons rack in the corner and the silk wall-hanging
were the only things that made it look like anyone with a
personality occupied the room.  The rack held twin bonbori,
heavy, round-headed maces painted in bright colours, and a curved
sword without a sheath, the edge sharp and gleaming in the
overhead lights.  The wall-hanging depicted a lake, and behind it
sharp-peaked mountains stretching upwards.

     "<Are you sure?>" Shampoo asked, though Cologne could hear
the relief in her tone.

     "<I am sure,>" Cologne said.  "<How are you, child?>"

     Shampoo shuffled her feet and stepped back, taking a seat on
the bed.  "<I'm alright.  I'm wondering how you are.  You've been
in your room since the...>"

     "<Since the wedding,>" Cologne filled in as Shampoo trailed
off.  "<That was what it was intended to be, at least.>"

     She silently took a seat at the desk chair and watched as
Shampoo shifted uncomfortably, tangling the neatly-made covers of
the bed slightly.  The girl said she was fine, but Cologne had
learned to read people over the years, and Shampoo hadn't yet
mastered even partially hiding her emotions.

     "<What is wrong, child?>" she asked when Shampoo didn't say
anything.  Her words were gentle, but her tone said she would
accept nothing but the truth.

     "<Ranma is very angry with me,>" Shampoo said finally, pressing her
hands together in her lap and sighing.  "<I do not think he wants
to marry me at all.>"

     Cologne frowned inwardly; the frank admission itself did not
bother her so much as the flat, tired tone it was made in.
"<And how do you feel about this?>"

     Shampoo turned her head to the side, hiding whatever
feelings might be showing on her face beneath her hair.  "<I
don't know.>"

     "<None know us so well as we ourselves do,>" Cologne said.
"<Shampoo, look at me.>"

     There was a shift in her posture, a slight change in the
angle of her head, but Cologne still couldn't see her eyes.
"<Look at me, child,>" she said firmly.

     The girl's head finally turned, and she looked at her
ancestor.  "<Yes?>"

     "<How does it make you feel that he does not want to marry
you?>" Cologne prompted.

     "<It hurts,>" Shampoo said.  "<I... you would have had to be
there, great-grandmother.  To see him fight the Lord of Phoenix
Mountain... to see him beat the creature that mother used to
frighten me with in stories when I was a girl.>"

     Shampoo's eyes were downcast, her mouth a straight line.
"<He did it for her.  For that stupid tomb... for Akane.  I... I
thought then, could he have done it for me, would he have fought
so hard that he could beat Saffron?>"

     She stopped speaking, but her face said she knew the answer.

     "<I would have liked to see that battle,>" Cologne said
wistfully.  "<It must have been quite a sight.>"

     Shampoo smiled sadly.  "<He was magnificent.  I... I never
love him as much as when I see him fighting, and he was never
better than when he fought Saffron.  He was so beautiful, so
fine... I told myself he was fighting for us, so that Jusenkyou
would not die, but I knew the truth.  I just couldn't admit it
until I saw him holding her in his arms.  He...>"

     "<He what?>" Cologne said.

     "<He loves her,>" Shampoo whispered.  "<He loves her and he
does not love me.>

     It broke, then.  Not like a dam bursting unexpectly, but
like a great wave you'd seen coming long ago finally hitting the
shore.  Shampoo took a long, sharp breath, and the tears began to
fall slowly down her face.

     Cologne watched for a moment, sorrowing that physical
affection was something discouraged between females in the tribe.
Than she got out of the chair and walked over, feeling the bed
depress slightly beneath her as she sat on it and gently rubbed
her great-grandaughter's shoulder, the best that she could do
without breaking a virtual taboo among the tribe.

     "<It will be alright,>" she said once, knowing it was a lie,
but knowing that it was a kind lie, at least.

     "<But it will not be,>" Shampoo said softly.  She hadn't
once made a sound above a whisper, or even tried to scrub the
tears away from her face.  One hand still rested in her lap; the
other tangled its fingers tightly in the bedsheet.  "<The
laws...>"

     She looked at Cologne, eyes blurred by tears.  "<I do not
know.  What is the law when a woman fails for the second time?>"

     Cologne looked back at her with a level gaze.  "<The first
failure is a training trip to Jusenkyou.  The second...>"

     She hardened herself.  No lie would be kindly here.  "<The
second failure has never occured before.  No Joketsuzoku woman
has ever failed a second time, either to kill an outsider female
or bring an outsider male back as a husband.>"

     Shampoo closed her eyes.  "<Oh.>"

     "<That is not to say that the woman has always had to marry
the man or kill the woman,>" Cologne said after a moment.
"<There have been circumstances where that has not happened.>"

     "<Such as?>"

     "<When a man dies before he can marry the Joketsuzoku, or
the woman dies through other means before she can be killed by
the Joketsuzoku,>" Cologne said.

     Shampoo's eyes went wide with shock.  "<NO!  Not...>"

     "<Child, I am suggesting nothing,>" Cologne said vehemently.
"<I am simply laying the facts before you.>"

     Shampoo nodded.  "<I know.  I'm sorry.  I would rather face
whater penalty may be devised than have anything happen to him.>"

     "<You still love him?>"

     "<Of course,>" Shampoo said.  "<Not the same.  It's... like
the ashes of a fire.  Still heat in them, but not the same as
when it blazed.  I... I still want him.  I just know that I can't
have him, and that lets me... lets me...>"

     She shuddered.  "<It doesn't.  It doesn't let me do
anything.  I still have to marry him.  I still have to try.  As
long as I try, I don't have to go back to the village in shame.>"

     "<Sometimes, child, we must understand when it is time to
cease a fight and tend to what wounds we have received,>" Cologne
said gently.

     Shampoo nodded.  "<I know that.  What... what do you think
would happen to me?>"

     "<The council would be deciding that,>" Cologne said.  "<At
the best, a loss of position perhaps, a public reprimand and a
punishment.  At the worst, exile.>"

     Shampoo closed her eyes.  "<Exile...>" she said, rolling the
word around in her mouth like poison.  "<I do not think I
could...>"

     "<Sometimes, child, we must do things,>" Cologne said.
"<Not because they are the right things to do, or the easiest
things to do, or the ones that will bring us rewards.
Sometimes, we must do things because they must be done.>"

     She looked at Shampoo.  "<And you want to go home, don't you
child?>"

     "<More than anything,>" Shampoo whispered despairingly.

     "<Even more than him?>" Cologne said.  "<If you could have
him and stay here forever, or lose him and go back, what would
you choose?>"

     Shampoo pondered silently for a few moments before speaking.
"<I... I would go back.>"

     She hung her head.  "<I love him, but I hate this place,
this country.  I could not stay here; it would drown me.  The
lights, all the people, all these machines, these buildings.  The
sky at night is starless, the sky at day is filled with smoke.  I
do not belong here; I belong at home, in the hills, in the
village.>"

     Cologne nodded slowly.  "<I too miss home.>"

     "<I feel so small here,>" Shampoo said, continuing as if
Cologne had not spoken.  "<So... nothing.  This place is so big,
these people so... they are not my people.>"

     "<They choose to live this way,> Cologne said.  "<It is not
our choice, but it is theirs.>"

     "<But why?>" Shampoo said.  "<Why would anyone choose
this?>"

     "<People can only change so much what they are born to be,>"
Cologne said with an aching feeling inside her heart.  "<We can
only walk so many different paths on the road of our lives.>"

     She patted Shampoo awkwardly on the shoulder once more, and
stood up from the bed, carefully leaning on her staff.  "<I'll
leave you to think about all that, child.  I have things to do.
Come to me if you need anything.>"

     Shampoo looked at her and nodded.  "<I will.>"

     Cologne was out the door and closing it behind her before
Shampoo might think to ask her just what it was she'd been doing
the past three days.

**********

     He was in a forest, a forest where the trees were so densely
packed and so towering that there was no sky, only a ceiling of
emerald-green leaves.  It was dark, although it was day, because
little sunlight could shine down through that vast, spreading
canopy of foliage hundreds of feet above.

     Did the forest have a name?  Names, perhaps?

     A green-and-gold butterfly the size of a large bird
fluttered by a few feet from his head, wings flapping slowly and
leisurely as the soft flow of tides, and then he knew where this
was.  Ryugenzawa.

     <So that is what you are called here,> he thought, and
almost as quickly forgot that thought.  Sunlight dappled the
rough trail that he walked into patches of light and shadow.
The rustles of leaves and the sound of heavy, sliding footsteps
betrayed that he was not alone here in the forest, but he saw no
other animals after the butterfly, and he did not seek any more
out.  His feet seemed to have a definite destination in mind,
even if he didn't.

     After a while, he began to hear someone singing, softly at
first, but rising in volume as he walked.  It seemed likely it
was towards the singer that he was heading.

     He began to make out the words after a few minutes.  The
voice was beautiful, and the rustling of the leaves in the trees
seemed to become an accompaniment if he listened closely enough.

*Bright the waters*
*Bright the song*
*Bright the flow that bears it on*

     The voice was achingly lovely, so musical that it seemed to
have been made only for singing.  He strained to catch more
words, and onward his feet carried him towards the singer and
the source of the song.

*Bright the waters*
*Bright the heart*
*Bright my gift of healer's art*

     The path was widening now, the trees thinning out, and the
sunlight was streaming down in gold-bright shafts upon the forest
floor.  Up ahead he could see a grove, and there were many
animals in it, and at its centre was a woman, and it was she who
was singing.

     He came closer, drawn towards her and her song.  There were
wolves in the grove, and deer, and birds, and it was peaceful and
lit with sun, and overhead was blue sky, and the trees around it
cast green-gold shadows upon the clearing.  And the deer lay down
next to the wolves, and the wolves did them no harm, and atop the
broad and branching horns of the deer the birds perched, silent
in the face of a song more beautiful than any even they could
make.

     She looked up at him, and her mouth opened again, and that
impossibly beautiful voice spilled forth again in a tide of
shining music.

*Bright the duty*
*Dark the call*
*Towards the oldest one of all*

     Her hair was green, the green of forest leaves and spring
grass, of tangled plants and all growing things, and so too green
were her eyes.  Her voice washed over him, and bore him away upon
it like a swift flowing river.

**********

     "WAKE UP!"

     "Whazzat?"

     "We're going to be late!  You've been sleeping since you
came home yesterday."

     Ranma poked his head out of the tangled covers and looked at
Akane.  There was annoyance in her voice, but a little concern as
well.  Her eyes studied him a bit apprehensively.

     "Unless you're still not feeling well," she said in a softer
voice.  "Are you okay, Ranma?"

     Ranma blinked bleary eyes at his fiancee and sat up a
little, holding the covers up with his hand.  "Yeah.  I feel
better.  Boy, did I have some weird dreams though..."

     "Hmm?" Akane said, cocking her head at him in a movement
that shaped the sunlight shining through the open curtains into
blue-black highlights on her hair.  "Like what?"

     "Can't remember most of 'em," Ranma said.  "Just little
weird glimpses... like I was other people or somethin'.  Really
weird."

     "Like someone who wasn't going to be late for school if he
doesn't hurry up?" Akane said with a small smile.  "I'll be
downstairs, okay?  Breakfast is almost ready."

     Ranma nodded and was already starting to stand as Akane
closed the door and left the room, her skirt swirling slightly
about her legs as she went.  He left the covers slip off and
stretched slightly.  He really did feel better this morning.  He
must have been sick, though; even he didn't sleep this long
without a good reason.  Well, he felt better now, at least.

     He worked the last kink out of his back and went over to his
dresser, grabbing out a change of clothing and shrugging out of
the clothes he'd slept in quickly.  He changed and headed out
into the hallway, hopping down the stairs three at a time to the
first floor.  He could hear the sound of voices and chopsticks
clacking together from the dining room by the back porch; if
they'd started without him, it must be pretty late in the
morning.  He had to hurry, or he was going to be late for school.

     Frowning at the memories of yesterday, he walked quickly to
the bathroom and splashed warm water on his face and brushed his
teeth.  Finished, he walked out quickly to the dining room and
took his seat at the table.

     "Good morning, Ranma," Kasumi said cheerfully, as if they'd
never had their serious conversation of the day before.  "How do
you feel?"

     "Much better, Kasumi," he said as he began to eat with his
usual vigour.

     "Must be all that beauty sleep," Nabiki said with a small
smirk.  "He needs extra, considering there's two of him to keep
beautiful."

     He glared at her for a moment in silence, and continued to
eat.  "Hey pop, how come you didn't wake me up to train this
morning?"

     "I told him to let you sleep, Ranma," his mother said
quietly.  "We can't have you getting sick."

     His father nodded without saying anything and poked at his
rice bowl as if he might find an errant grain hiding amidst the
already picked-clean expanse of the porcelain.

     "Well, I feel great today," Ranma said as he finished his
first bowl of rice and started on a second.  "Like a million
bucks."

     "If only you were..." Nabiki said wistfully.  Ranma glared
at her for a second time, and she looked back at him with a
slight smile on her face.

     "You kids had better get going," Soun said from behind the
shield of his newspaper.  "Don't want to be late for school."

     "Your lunches are on the counter in the kitchen," Kasumi
said as Ranma, Akane and Nabiki stood up from the table.  "Have a
good day at school."

     With a quick round of farewells to the others, the three of
them headed into the kitchen and grabbed their lunches before
heading out the front door and off to school.

**********

     Ukyou sipped her tea in the little kitchen of her restaurant
and gave Konatsu a small smile.  "Thanks."

     The ninja beamed and walked away into the dining room, silk
kimono rustling softly with the easy grace of his movements.  He
drew the curtain closed behind him and left Ukyou alone in the
tiny kitchen by herself.  She looked around at it as she sipped
her tea; all of the cooking for the restaurant was done in the
dining room on the grill, but it was in here that she made up the
batter for the day and washed the dishes.  Cooking was like
anything else; not just in the actual doing, but also in the
presentation and the preparation.

     Yesterday had not been particularly pleasant.  Ranma was
obviously very angry with her, and she'd started to see why.
She'd tried to force his decision, something she'd vowed not to
do.  Unlike certain others, she wanted him to come to her of his
own free will.

     Then again, there was the possibility he'd actually wanted
to marry Akane.  She pushed that thought down quickly, though;
logic dictated that if he was going to choose anyone, it would be
her.  For him to marry anyone else wouldn't make sense.

     She realized she was trying to sip from an empty teacup, and
slowly sighed and let it sink back into the saucer with a slight
rattle.  She stood up from the table and pushed her chair back
with a scrape, then carefully carried her cup to the sink and ran
water in it.  The few drops that splashed against her hands made
her wince slightly; the water was cold this morning.  She dried
her hands on a dishtowel and grabbed her schoolbag from where it
rested against one leg of the table before heading out into the
dining room.  Konatsu was carefully dusting a table in the
corner, and he looked up as she came in, long ponytail swinging
back over his shoulder.

     "Are you going to school now, Ukyou?" he asked quietly, not
letting his eyes meet hers.

     "Yeah, I'm heading off," Ukyou said.  Konatsu nodded, dark
eyes half-closed and head bowed.  "I'll be back after school, and
we'll open up together.  Don't just wait around for me; go for a
walk or something."

     "Yes, Ukyou," Konatsu said in a soft, demure voice as he
worked at the wood of the table with a cloth.  "I hope you have a
nice day."

Continued in [Ranma][Fanfic] Waters Under Earth - Chapter 2 (2/3)

______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com