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 (3 of 3)

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

     Kodachi sat in the thin wicker framework of the chair in her
room, two photos spread out on the table in front of her.  One of
them was of Ranma, a shot of him frozen still in the midst of a
kata, light defining one side of him in sharp detail, and leaving
the other side of him cloaked in shadow.  It was her favourite
one of him she had.

     The other was of her brother's other obsessive love
interest beyond Akane Tendo, the girl with the pig-tail.  The
pose was a similiar one, although she could not for the life of
her imagine what had possessed the girl to do katas while
topless.

     Or now perhaps she could.  After all, a girl who was not
truly a girl would have no concern for feminine modesty, would
she?

     The resemblance was obvious.  So were so many other things
now that she looked for them, searching back through her memory.
It all came together, the final pieces of a puzzle.

     "How could I have been so blind?" she whispered.  "So
blind..."

     She shuffled the photos from hand, so fast they became a
rapid blur of colour.  "So blind..."

     A few tears dropped from her eyes, the scattered memories of
what had happened earlier driving themselves into her soul.
Seeing the rage in his eyes, seeing him toss her aside and leap
into the canal after Akane.

     Seeing him change.

     And then the girl, the girl who was him, who somehow was
him.  The same fury in the eyes, although they were a different
colour, they were the same eyes.  There was no mistaking those
eyes or the expression on them.  It was true; no matter how you
could change your form, it was hard to change your eyes.

     She set the photos down on the table again, and buried her
face in her hands.  More tears came, but very quietly, because
the few times Kodachi ever cried for real, it was with little
show of emotion beyond simple tears.

     When she was done, she went around her room and methodically
gathered every photo of him she had, from the walls, pressed
inside the pages of books, sitting in frames on her desk or
dresser or the table beside her bed.  She took them all out,
leaving the room a mess of opened books and empty frames.

     She put them all in a box, and as an afterthought, added the
one photo of the female side.  To remind her, if she ever got
them out again.  To remind her of what he truly was.

     She put the box on the top shelf of her closet.  Perhaps she
might want the photos again, some day.  But now, she wanted only
to be alone.

     That was her choice; she would not have it be her fate.

**********

     "WHAT?"

     "Dad, I just got a little wet, that's all... Ranma pulled me
out right away.  I'm fine," Akane said.  She then proceeded to
ruin whatever effect her words had upon her father by breaking
into another coughing spasm and sagging against Ranma, still
female, who held her up until she recovered.  Kasumi and his
mother were heating water in the kitchen, for tea and
transformation back.  Soun was currently looming over the two of
them, having intercepted them as soon as they got in the door,
dripping water on the carpet from their soaked clothing.  In the
background, Genma stood with his arms folded over his chest, the
expression on his face calculated neutrality.

     "Ranma!  How could you let this happen to Akane?" Soun
demanded.  "You're her fiancee!"

     "Yes, son, please answer that," Genma added with a slight
frown.

     "Look, I was just seein' if Ukyou was alright, and the next
thing I know Kodachi tossed her in the canal!" Ranma protested,
wishing that she'd been able to turn back to a man before the
interrogation had begun.

     "You were paying attention to Ukyou over your true fiancee?"
Genma asked with an indignant inflection to his voice.  "What of
honour, Ranma?"

     Ranma pointed her finger at her father.  "Don't you lecture
me about honour, old man.  Who's the one who engaged me to two
girls in the first place?"

     "That was an unavoidable necessity," Genma said with
absolute conviction.  "A man must eat."

     Soun whirled and grabbed his friend by the collar.
"Saotome, you mean to say you engaged Ukyou to Ranma for food
alone?"

     Genma took a firm hold on Soun's wrists and pried his hands
off.  "Tendo, you forget the hardship of the road.  Why, when we
trained, we were forced to sacrifice much in pursuit of the true
path of the martial artist..."

     "Come on," Ranma said sideways to Akane.  "While they're
distracted with their reminiscing."

     The two of them snuck past their bickering parents, still
leaving a small trail of water behind them.  They paused at the
foot of the stairs.

     Akane coughed again, and Ranma patted her on the back.  "Why
don't you go have a hot bath.  I'll go tell Kasumi to get you
some dry clothes."

     Akane nodded, took a deep breath to recover herself.
"Okay."

     "Good," Ranma said.  She reached back and took hold of her
pigtail, wringing water out of it with a sigh.  "Get in there.
You look like somethin' outta a horror movie with all those wet
clothes on you."

     Akane glared at him.  "Thank you so much."

     Ranma winced.  "Uh..."

     Shaking her head, Akane slid open the door to the bathroom
and stepped inside.  "Just when I think you might actually be..."
Ranma heard her say, before her voice was cut off by the closing
door.

     A hand fell on her shoulder from behind, large and
blunt-fingered.  "Boy, come and get changed back.  Your mother
and Tendo and I want to speak with you."

     Ranma sighed.  When she didn't start moving right away, her
father's hand tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but there
was, as with a lot of things her father did, the impression that
it could hurt very soon.

     "Okay," she said finally.

     Her father let go of her shoulder and turned to go.  Ranma
looked at the closed door of the bathroom for a moment, and then
followed with her head hanging.

     Her mother and Soun were seated at the kitchen table when
she and her father entered.  His mother handed him a steaming
kettle without a word, and a moment later she was he.

     Genma took a seat at the kitchen table, across from Soun.
The chair across from Ranma's mother scraped across the floor as
he pulled it out slightly, sounding far too loud in the enforced
silence the three adults were now maintaining.

     "Ranma, please close the door to the kitchen," his mother
said as he was about to sit.

     "Hey mom, where'd Kasumi go?  Akane's in the bath, and she
needs some-"

     "Kasumi went to look after her sister," Soun said, cutting
him off.  "Close the door and sit down, Ranma."

     Ranma slid the kitchen door closed with a frown; it was
hardly ever closed.  Kasumi never closed it when she was cooking;
she'd said once she liked how the smell filled the whole house
when she was making something.

     He took his seat, shifted a bit nervously and tugged the
chair towards the table.  He realized even the seating had been 
calculated; he was looking straight ahead at his mother's
unsmiling face, while his father and Soun flanked him on either
side of the table.

     The silence continued for a few seconds, and he was almost
sure he felt his heart slow down.  To his surprise, it was Soun
who finally broke it.

     "This is the final straw, Saotome," he said, and Ranma
realized he was addressing his father.  "It cannot go on like
this."

     "Tendo, my old friend, really, the boy only needs a little
more time..." Genma said defensively.

     "NO!" Soun snapped.  "No more time, Saotome.  No more of
your promises, your excuses, your rationalizing.  Again, Saotome.
Again within a few days after my daughter gets back from China,
she is put in danger.  Since you and your son came, I have seen
her kidnapped, threatened and attacked.  I will not have it
anymore."

     Ranma was speechless.  It had always been his father who
dominated conversations like this; his mother was often a
generally silent presence, and Soun generally served only to
back up his friend's words.

     He had seen Soun cry often enough, but he had not often seen
him get angry, which was what he was now.

     "Tendo..." Genma began.  Soun cut him off again.

     "Saotome, you are my oldest friend," Soun said in a tight
voice.  "It is my honour to have you and your family share my
home.  I am a patient man, Genma.  But I cannot let this
continue.  I have seen my daughter insulted constantly by the man
she is supposed to marry, I have seen the people you and he have
wronged nearly destroy my house on several occasions.  And I have
had enough."

     "Really, Tendo, Ranma and Akane just show they care by how
they act," Genma said with a nervous laugh.  "Isn't that true
Ranma?"

     His mother's eyes were boring into him, dark and sad in her
smooth, youthful face.  They would not let him say anything but
the truth, because he knew that she would know if he did not.

     "No," Ranma said with a sigh.  "Me an' Akane fight a lot, I
know.  But it's not always me who starts it..."

     "Ranma, my Akane is not perfect," Soun said slowly, with
some of the anger draining from his voice.  "She is impulsive,
and she has not yet learned to control her temper.  You are far
more easygoing than her, more used to dealing with change.  It is
your duty as her fiancee to try not to set her off."

     "I try," Ranma said.  "I really do... what... what's this
all about, Mr. Tendo?"

     His voice sounded nervous, frightened even.  He did not like
that one bit.

     Soun sighed.  "Ranma, I said that until our affairs were in
order, the wedding would be off.  I am considering more drastic
measures than that."

     Ranma stiffened.  "You don't mean..."

     Soun looked around the table, at the faces of the Saotome
family.  "Ranma, I would like to see my daughter marry you.  I
think you are a fine young man, and worthy inheritor of my dojo.
There is also the matter of family honour.  But I..."

     He sighed, and the anger finally left his voice entirely,
and he looked like the Soun Tendo Ranma was used to, the tired,
weary man.  "I do not wish to see my daughter unhappy.  And I do
not wish to see her hurt, either by one of those other girls or
by one of the dozens of foes you seem to attract."

     Ranma slapped his palms down on the table.  "I'm never gonna
let anyone hurt Akane!  Nobody!  You hear me?"

     "We hear you, son," his mother said.  "You do not need to
shout."

     "Sorry, mother," Ranma said, bowing his head.

     "Son, we only want to know," Soun said.  "Do you want this
wedding to happen?  Do you want to marry my daughter?"

     "I... I..." Ranma stuttered.  He wanted to say that he
didn't know, but that was not the whole truth.

     "Why don't we give him some time to think about it?" Genma
said.  "It's not fair to put the boy on the spot like this,
Tendo.  Give him a day or so, some time by himself."

     Nodoka's eyes turned from her son to her husband, and they
were cold.  Genma gulped, but he stared back at her until she
looked back to her son.  "Very well.  Ranma, this time tomorrow
you will talk to us again.  The results of that conversation will
determine whether or not you and Akane will continue to be
engaged."

     The three adults pushed their chairs back almost
simultaneously, three separate scrapes on the floor of the
kitchen.  His mother went to the sink and began washing her
hands, for a reason he didn't know.  Soun opened the door of the
kitchen with a soft hiss and stepped out.  His father stood
looking at him for a moment, then went the same way as Soun.

     Ranma stayed for a moment, watching his mother's back as she
ran water over her hands, and then he went out the kitchen door
after the two older men.  Soun was sitting in a chair near the
stairs, smoking a cigarette with a pensive expression on his
face.  He didn't even acknowledge Ranma's presence when he
stepped by and walked out towards the back porch, where he could
see his father looking up at the sky.

     "Hey pop," he said as he slid the door open and stepped out,
feeling the rough grain of the wood under his bare feet.  He
realized he was still in slightly damp clothing, but that was
really the least important thing right now.

     "Hello son," his father said, not turning to look at him.

     "Thanks for sticking up for me in there," Ranma said after a
moment.  "Uh... thanks."

     His father turned his head and looked back, his eyes
unreadable behind the thin wire frames of his glasses.  "I know
what it is like to have to make a choice too soon," he said after
a moment, as if they were discussing the weather.  "Often, you
make the wrong one.  Go and think, boy.  You have a choice to
make; just make sure it is the right one."

     Ranma nodded slowly, and then walked back inside, leaving
his father staring at the sky.

**********

     Ranma tossed his futon onto the flattened roof of the house,
then grabbed the lip and swung himself up, doing a handstand for
a half-second before he tilted over and landed on his feet.

     Today had, if anything, been worse than the day before.  No
headaches today, but the constant looks of his father, mother and
Soun as he hung around the house had finally made him say that he
was going to go back to school.  Akane, despite her protests, had
been put to bed right after her bath; he hadn't even had a chance
to say two words to her until dinner.

     He didn't go back to school, though.  Going back meant that
he might have to meet up with Ukyou or Shampoo, and he had enough
to deal with already.  He'd spent the day walking through the
streets, all the familiar places he'd been while here.  And he
tried to think, although he didn't do a very good job of it.

     That was why he was out here, on the roof.  He'd spend the
night out here; the night was warm, and he'd slept in worse
places while on the road.  He'd lie up here, under the infinite
empty sky, and he'd run thoughts through his head until he either
came up with an answer or fell asleep.  And he would be able to
escape the looks of his father and mother and Soun, and most of
all he would be able to escape Akane and her puzzled concern as
to why he was so troubled.  He couldn't tell her, couldn't share
with her the strange mix of his thoughts.

     Two conversations in the kitchen played themselves back in
his head, the first Kasumi, gentle and persuasive, and then her
father, pushed finally to lay down an ultimatum.

     Tomorrow.  He had until tomorrow...

     *"He who does not choose makes also a choice..."*

     Tomorrow to decide, once and for all...

     *"I do not wish to see my daughter unhappy..."*

     Father and daughter, words intertwining themselves within
his head.  Could he make the right choice?  More importantly,
could he make Akane happy?  They fought so much, but the times
when they did not... He saw flashes, in her smile or dark eyes,
flashes of the girl who'd offered to be his friend on the first
day he'd come here, rain-soaked and alone.  Flashes of who he
thought as of the true Akane.

     But who was he to make this choice?  How did he have the
right?  Ukyou's claim was, in his mind, equally valid.  Shampoo's
was in her mind, if not in his.  And Kodachi...

     She seemed to have caught on, at last.  Perhaps the nature
of his transformation would force her away; he'd often thought
that it would drive people away from him, although it really
hadn't seemed to matter to many people yet.  He hoped it would
make her go away, because Ukyou and Shampoo were going to be hard
enough to deal with.

     He lay back on the futon, carefully covered himself with his
thin blanket.  The night breeze carried on it the scent of the
city, and the noises as quiet Nerima sank into sleep, the twitter
of birds and the soft scrapes of doors and windows closing.

     He lay there, under the sky, the tiles of the roof indenting
slightly into the futon under his back, letting him feel vaguely
their shape.  He lay there, and he thought, which was something
he seldom did.

     Gradually, his eyes closed, weariness sank over him.  He
slept, up there on the roof of the house, with the night air
wafting over him and stirring his blanket slightly in its wake.

     And he dreamed, as he had the night before.  Perhaps dreams
are memory, or perhaps memory is dreams.  Perhaps dreams are the
memories of things we could never remember otherwise, memories
buried deep inside our souls, locked so tightly behind barriers
of our mind that we never glimpse upon them except for in those
few shining moments when we rest and our minds are free to roam
within themselves.

     (...upon the field of battle, with all slain but him, he
raised the horn to his lips and blew with the last of his
strength, and the sound rushed forth like a black river...)

     The moon rose, swung high into the sky, and overhead the few
stars visible through the haze of the city came out.  The night
breeze flowed like water over him, and he dreamed on.

     (...up and up came that vast spiralling form, and the hair
and beard were white ocean foam, and the eyes were the green of
sun-drenched sea...)

     A black shape, large and winged, swung in front of the moon
overhead for a moment, and looked down with glittering black eyes
upon the sleeping boy upon the roof, before banking and wheeling
away to its true destination, and leaving the dreamer to his
dreams.

     (...and the waters flowed and carried him down, down,
down...)

**********

     Cologne stood on the roof of the restaurant, looking warily
at the crescent moon gracing the night sky, a slash of silver on
black.  She turned her eyes downward, and looked at the wrapped
parchment, tied with string, that she held in her hand.

     A black, winged shape, looking even darker than the night
sky it swept across, came into view, banking and turning with
avian grace.

     She put her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply in a
few complex notes.  The shape spun, folded its wings against its
body and dived towards the rooftop of the Nekohanten where she
stood, as if it might bury itself into the concrete roof like a
black-feathered arrow.

     At the last second, the wings unfurled and the bird swept
up gracefully, landing on a pipe that went horizontally across
the roof before it curved down the side of the restaurant.  It
was a huge raven, glossy blue-black feathers reflecting flashes
of silver in the moonlight.  The eyes were bright and sharp,
glittering like dark jewels in the sockets of a lean and sharp
feathered face.

     "Show off," Cologne muttered.

     "Greetings, Cologne," the bird croaked in passable Japanese
before beginning to preen under one wing with his sharp beak.

     "Hello, Shiso," she said.  "And how is your brother?"

     The raven paused in his grooming and regarded her with one
solid black eye, darker even than the inky feathers.  "He is
well."

     "And your master?"

     "He misses you," Shiso said, hopping off the pipe in a
flutter of wings and perching nimbly atop the knob on the end of
her staff.  It swayed a little under his weight before Cologne
got it balanced again.

     "You may tell him I miss him as well," Cologne said a bit
sadly.  "I hope that they did not damage his library when they
were there."

     The raven gave a croaking laugh.  "Phoenix Mountain has
endured worse than the actions of a few children such as them.
It will endure worse and continue to stand."

     Cologne sighed.  "Do you bring me a message from him?"

     "I do," the raven said, beginning to preen the other wing.

     Cologne waited a moment.

     "What is it?" she asked tiredly after the bird didn't take
his cue to speak.

     Shiso told her.

     His next action was to give a surprised squawk when Cologne
swung her staff to one side and began pacing the rooftop.  He
beat his wings and landed on the pipe again.

     "He brought her into this?" Cologne hissed.  "What was that
old fool thinking?"

     The bird opened his beak to speak, and then closed it again
as Cologne continued.  "Do you know what she did to my
great-grandaughter?  She made her into a virtual slave!  The
woman is..."

     She sighed and visibly got calm again.  "He does this
because it must be done.  He knows the future even better than I
do."

     "Are you done ranting yet?" the bird asked sardonically.
Cologne took a half-hearted swipe of her staff at him which he
skipped over in a flurry of wings.

     "Yes, I suppose I am," Cologne said finally.  "What use is
it to rail against this?  What did Samofere always use to say
again..."

     "Woodchips in the stream of time," the bird croaked, claws
clinking against metal as he shifted his position on the pipe
slightly, smoothing his ruffled feathers.

     Cologne nodded.  "I..."

     She trailed off with a sigh.  The bird looked at her, black
eyes glittering.

     "You know what must be done," he said after a moment, and
his voice was different this time, without the croaking accent a
bird's tongue had lent him before, a strong voice with the age of
mountains in it.  "This must be done not because it is easy, or
because we are cruel, or because we wish him harm.  It must be
done because it must be done."

     "But he is young," Cologne said.  "He is young and foolish
and arrogant and he does not know what duty means and..."

     "And your great-grandaughter loves him," the bird said
pointedly.

     Cologne closed her eyes.  "That is not important."

     The bird nodded slowly.  "Through fire he comes and fire he
brings, reforged anew for better things," it intoned.  They were
words she'd heard before.

     Cologne held up the tied scroll to the bird.  "Take that to
him.  It tells him what I have determined."

     The raven allowed her to slip it into the grip of his claws.
"I will do so."

     "Thank you," Cologne said.  "I... have also said what I will
need if I am to do what I must."

     The bird nodded, and took off without another word, just a
quick, sharp inclination of his head in a nod of farewell.  Black
wings stroked the air, forced the great body through the sky,
towards Tokyo Bay and then out across the Sea of Japan.  Cologne
watched him go as long as she could, old eyes straining to make
out his dark shape against the black.  When at last she could see
Shiso no longer, she turned away and bowed her head.

     "Not because it is easy," she said.  "Or because I am cruel,
or because I wish him harm.  I must do this because it must be
done."

     She went back down inside to rest then, because she felt
more old and tired than she had in a long, long time.

     And out over the ocean, already miles away, a dark shape
winged his way across the ocean towards China and Phoenix
Mountain, a black blur against the darkness of the sky.

End Part 2


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