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
America 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.  

Chapter 3 : Divided Duties (1/3)

     "By my wings, they certainly did a number on this place,
didn't they?" Samofere said to Kima as the two of them picked
their way through the rubble around Jusendo.  The mountain had
been severely damaged in the battle, with numerous collapses and
rock-slides changing the appearance drastically.  The waterfall
still spilled down the side, though, flowing off towards the
springs visible in the distance in a single river that would
gradually split off into a hundred different ones, to fill the
pools of Jusenkyou.

     "They did," Kima agreed after a moment.  "Much damage was
done to the Dragon Tap and the Phoenix Tap.  Loame and his
workers will come out and do what they can after they finish the
renovations in the mountain home..."

     "How are those going?" Samofere asked as he scrambled his
way over a pile of shattered chunks of stone, using his walking
stick to get purchase.

     Kima sighed mildly.  "Well enough.  I think Loame will be
able to get the royal family to agree on his use for the Gekkaja
and the Kinjakan.  It's not like there's any other use for them
until Saffron matures more."

     "How is he doing?"

     "I've got Koruma and Masara babysitting him," Kima said with
a small smile.  "They're keeping a close eye on him."

     "And Lord Helubor's concern for his relative's welfare?  Is
the royal family truly so dissatisfied?"

     "Would you be offended if I spoke frankly, Samofere?"

     "Not in the least."

     "The day the seven remaining members of the royal family
will agree on something is the day I renounce my duty to my house
and go to join Loame and his workers."

     Samofere laughed at that.  "Was that a joke, Lady Kima?"

     "Perhaps just a small one," Kima said as she walked around a
shattered stone outcropping.

     Samofere smiled a bit wistfully.  "Hot and cold water to
every part of the mountain... It has been so long since we had
that."

     Kima blinked, but said nothing.  The spring of Phoenix
Mountain had been dead nearly a century before she had taken her
first flight out of the mountain.

     Samofere looked back at her, and read the surprise in her
face.  "My age shows, doesn't it, Lady Kima?"

     "A little," she said.  She could see the statues of the
dragon and the phoenix, mouths open to pour forth water.  They
would not do that in their current state; the Dragon Tap had been
ripped out and tilted up ninety degrees, almost as if it had been
obeying the outsider's command.

     "Dragon, look to the heavens," she said softly.

     Samofere looked at her.  "What was that?"

     She shook her head.  "Nothing."

     The Phoenix Tap had been sliced in half at the neck, and was
tilted over into the now-empty pool beneath it.  A few scattered
fragments of Lord Saffron's egg still lingered in the basin, and
the entire chamber was littered with rubble from the battle, open
to the sky from the holes blown in the mountain.

     She had never quite realized until now the sheer scale of
the fight between Lord Saffron and the outsider; now that she
looked at it, though, she could see they had nearly levelled the
mountain.

     "Remarkable," Samofere said.  "Quite astonishing power."

     "Lord Saffron did most of it," Kima said stiffly.

     "Yes, but who won in the end?" Samofere said quietly.  "It
is not always the strongest who shall win a fight, Lady Kima."

     "You can just call me Kima, Samofere," Kima said slowly.
"We are not in the mountain.  Protocol may be relaxed."

     "Very well," Samofere said with a shrug.  They were next to
the Phoenix Tap now, and the old man knelt down by the dry pool
where Saffron's egg had rested, his black wings brushing against
the ground with a soft whispering sound.

     "What is it?" Kima asked.  Samofere said nothing; he reached
down into the empty pool and picked up a fragment of eggshell the
size of his hand between two fingers.

     "Who is the Lord of Jusenkyou, Kima?" he asked quietly.

     "Lord Saffron, of course," Kima answered immediately.  "We
have always been taught that."

     Samofere chuckled softly.  "Because you are taught something
does not mean it is true, Kima."

     He held up the piece of eggshell; one side was white and
smooth, and the other was mottled in a mad rainbow swirl of
colours, the part that had faced towards Saffron, lying within
the egg, as he made his transformation.  "Have you ever wondered,
Kima, why Jusenkyou exists at all?"

     Kima frowned.  "Where is this going, Samofere?"

     "Think about it," Samofere said quietly, turning the
fragment over and over in his hands.  "A valley in a country of
more than a billion people where there exists waters that could
have unlimited uses in the world outside it.  Imagine an end to
hunger, Kima.  Insects and rodents transformed into cattle and
sheep with the waters.  Have you ever seen the results of the
Spring of Drowned Yeti-Riding-Bull-Carrying-Crane-And-Serpent?
An army of those monsters to whoever controlled the waters."

     Kima shook her head.  "The springs are..."

     "Then ask yourself this," Samofere said, dropping the
fragment to the stone ground with a clink.  "Why does no one
know?  Why does the government of China not send in troops to
seize this place?  Look at the Joketsuzoku or the Musk Dynasty.
Look at us, Kima.  Why are we safe here?  Surely someone would
report the sight of winged people flying about.  Yet in this
valley, we are safe.  Our lives continue as they did four
thousand years ago."

     His voice softened.  "Outside, though, there is danger for
us in our true forms."

     Kima turned away from him and wrapped her wings around her
body tightly like a shield.  "Samofere, please, I do not wish to
talk of..."

     Samofere picked up the bit of eggshell again.  "Things have
a way of happening to those who might wish the valley or its
people harm, Kima.  Government inspectors fall into the pools, or
just disappear altogether.  Some of them simply abandon their
jobs and go to live in one of the villages.  Troops will miss the
area in their patrols, skirting it as if there were a barrier.
And we are safe here, Kima.  Have you never questioned why?"

     "Lord Saffron..." Kima began.  "He.. his..."

     Samofere shook his head.  "Lord Saffron is many things,
Kima.  But he is not the Lord of Jusenkyou."

     Kima gasped; Samofere was coming close to blasphemy here.
"Samofere, what does this mean?  What does this have to do with
the outsider?"

     "He has a name, Kima," Samofere said.

     "What does it have to do with the outsider?"

     Samofere sighed.  He walked across the cavern to the Dragon
Tap.  "Come, Kima.  It is time."

     Kima walked swiftly after him, visibly agitated.  "I should
be in the library, Samofere.  There is much I still do not
understand..."

     "That is why I brought you here," Samofere said.  "So that
you might understand."

     He placed his hands against the side of the Dragon Tap near
the base, talons clicking against the strange, hard stone it was
made of.  He opened his mouth and began to sing softly, words she
didn't know.

     The ground underneath her feet shook slightly.
Instinctively she took to the air, white wings carrying her up
above the tops of the Dragon Tap and the Phoenix Tap.  Samofere
was on his knees beside the Dragon Tap, still singing, his old
voice coming close to cracking at times.

     "What are you doing, Samofere?" she called down, turning a
broad spiral in mid-air above his head.  Samofere said nothing,
and Kima's face was troubled as she continued to fly.

     Then, with a gasp of shock, she saw what was happening to
the floor between the Dragon Tap and the Phoenix Tap.  It was as
if the rock had become water, and a whirlpool had grown within
it, a whirlpool that turned stone itself round and round in an
ever-quickening spiral.  The rubble was being drawn into the mass
of swirling stone, bobbing like chunks of ice in the ocean before
it too began to melt and flow into that impossible vortex of
liquid stone.

     The stone suddenly blossomed up a dozen feet, swelling like
a soap bubble about to burst, veins of darker stone swirling
amidst lighter, and then it rose higher into a funnel, a blurred
cyclone of rock that was liquid without being molten, spinning
endlessly around a central point, rising higher and higher until
it was a hundred feet high, and she was forced to swoop out of
the way before it engulfed her.  And then it collapsed upon
itself, flowed down into the the ground in an instant.

     Kima landed, barely believing her own eyes.  Where flat
cavern floor had been moments before there was a spiral staircase
descending into an impossibly deep pit.  A cold breeze wafted up
from it, and it smelled, not unpleasantly, of water and
impossible age.  The steps were wide, several feet across from
left to right, but they were narrowly spaced, with only just
enough room to place your feet on them.  They went down until the
light of the sun that reached through the open roof of the Heart
of Jusendo could illuminate no more of their winding passage.
They were pitted and cracked, looking as if they were worn smooth
by the passage of countless feet and even more countless years.
They looked as if they could have been there for a thousand
years.

     "I did not know you knew the songs of the rock," Kima said
quietly to Samofere, who still crouched by the Dragon Tap.  "Not
even Loame could have done that.  I did not think it was
possible to do something like that, even with stone-singing."

     "It takes effort," Samofere gasped.  "But it has been done
many times before, and the stone is used to this shape.  The
caverns are narrow down there, Kima, and the air is cold.  We
would do well to change to human form and change into warmer
clothing."

     Kima was oddly silent for a moment.  "Very well," she said
at last, pulling her water flask from her belt and heading off
behind a pile of rubble to change.

     When she came back out, Samofere was standing near the first
few steps, tightening the belt of the loose brown robe he now
wore over his human body.  He looked up, and she saw his hand
tighten on his walking stick.

     "How did you get in here?" he said slowly.  "Who are you?"

     "It's me, Samofere," Kima sighed, combing human fingers
through the unfamiliar hair, cut differently from hers, and the
wrong colour, dark-blue black instead of pale, silvery white she
was used to.  She'd lost several inches of height and a few years
of age as well.

     "What happened?" Samofere asked.  "Kima, how did this come
about?"

     Kima sighed and bowed her head slightly.  "I see you don't
know everything about what happened.  To get the map back, we
kidnapped the outsider's fiancee from Japan and created a pool
with her form.  I dunked myself in and infiltrated them to obtain
the map."

     She tugged at the collar of her shirt; it felt strange, too
constricting without the open back to allow her wings freedom.
Although she had no wings right now.  "Let's just get this over
with."

     "So you are an exact duplicate of Ranma's fiancee now?"
Samofere said.  "Interesting..."

     Kima put her feet upon the steps.  "Let's just go down there
and see whatever it is you want me to see."

     Samofere said nothing, being occupied with pouring oil into
a round glass sphere that he'd fitted into a small hollow at the
top of his walking stick.  He lit a match and touched it to the
oil, and a blue flame began to burn in the glass sphere, rising
up a few inches above the open top of the sphere.

     "Come, Kima," Samofere said as he began to descend the
steps, the blue flame waving slightly.  "It is time to meet the
true Lord of Jusenkyou."

     Kima said nothing, and again touched her fingers to the hair
that was not hers.  Together, blue flame casting flickering
light onto the dark walls of the pit, they began to descend down
the stairs.

**********

     He was in a boat this time, poling his way across a vast,
murky lake towards a small island at the centre.  Reeds rose from
the banks in thick clumps, tall and waving in the slight breeze
that blew across the lake.

     He had been here before, or perhaps he was here, or perhaps
he would be here.  The island awaited him, received him, called
to him.

     The boat drifted amongst the reeds and bumped softly against
the bank.  Somewhere off in the distance, a bird called, lovely
and aching sound in this heart of silence.

     Reeds brushed by him in a caress as he placed his feet upon
solid ground and stepped onto the edge of the island.  Grass
stalks bent beneath his bare feet, tickled at the edges of his
skin.  He walked, and in the grass around him crickets chattered
and small animals fled from his footsteps, rustling through the
foliage to hide.

     At the centre of the island he found the building, as at the
centre of the lake he'd found the island.  The building was open
on all four sides, and the wind sang mournfully through
intricately carved sections of bamboo attached to the flat
underside of the sloping, red-tiled pagoda roof.  The roof was
held up by four broad pillars of red-gold wood, polished so
brightly he could see his reflection in them.

     The building was occupied almost entirely by a wide pool of
water, contained inside a white stone basin rising up nearly to
his waist.  The water within flowed continually down dozens of
small channels carved into the white stone, down across even
smaller channels in the floor that split off like the branches of
a tree, and out through one of the four openings of the building,
where it drained off into the ground.

     The water of the pool seemed limitless, but he was not
within the building yet, and he could not see their source.  But
how, he asked himself, could a pool that small replenish itself
so quickly, for he realized that gallons of water every second
were flowing from the pool.

     And then he stepped within the confines of the open-sided
building, feeling cool water flow over his feet from the
channels, tickling his senses to sharpness, and he saw.

     She floated there, near the bottom of the pool, and she was
golden and beautiful.  Her eyes were closed, pale, shining hair
spread out behind her head.  Her dress was golden, matching her
hair, and her skin shone as well, golden light from beneath pale
flesh.

     Pale flesh rent by horrible wounds, at the throat and the
wrists.  The wounds were broad and deep, but bloodless.  Or not,
because he could see that something came forth, something spun
with sparks of gold and silver within its liquid confines.

     Water bled from her, and she was the source of the pool.

     And yet he could see the slow rise and fall of her chest
beneath the golden dress, and he realized that she still lived,
though her eyes were closed.  A terrible, aching grief filled
him, and he stepped forward and reached down into the pool,
desperate to help her.

     Whose waters would not let him past, for it was as if that
flowing, glassy surface were steel.  He hammmered his fists
against it, but not even the smallest spreading circle grew upon
the waters to indicate that his blows had the smallest effect.
The waters flowed, yet their surface was harder than arctic ice.

     The wind sang through the bamboo flutes beneath the roof,
and in them he heard snatches of a song, but he could make out no
words, for it was very, very far away.  Outside the building,
rain began to fall, falling down upon the grass, tinkling on the
roof.  The pounding rain mingled with the flow of water through
the channels and the piping songs of bamboo flutes, mingled and
became one with his heartbeat and his breathing, became one with
him and he was the waters and he felt them in a gentle caress on
his skin...

**********

     Ranma decided it hadn't been such a good idea to sleep up on
the roof after all.  He'd thought it would help him think about
what decision to make, but the end result was that he had just
woken up wet and female, with the rain coming down in a sharp
rhthym on the roof.

     She stretched, and got out of her blankets, which were
becoming rapidly sodden from the rain.  The sun hadn't even
risen yet, but it would soon enough.

     Before it set tonight, Ranma had to make a decision, one
that would choose the path she was going to take.  Her parents
and Akane's father had finally laid down the law last night.  Not
another wedding, not this time.  What was said tonight would
decide whether or not his engagement to Akane would continue.
But there had been a deadly seriousness in Soun's voice, and
whatever decision Ranma made tonight was going to change
everything.

     But what decision would she make?  If she chose Akane, how
could she abandon Ukyou and Shampoo, who were her friends?

     And if she let Akane be taken away from her, made Soun break
the engagement as he'd threatened, then what would she do?

     The rain tattooed itself upon the roof and her skin, and she
sighed and flicked her pigtail irritably over one shoulder,
spraying droplets of water across her face.  She gathered up her
futon and blankets under one arm, then crawled to the edge of the
roof closest to the bedroom she shared with her father.  She'd
left the window unlatched, and she knew the old man was a deep
sleeper.  

     The window creaked open, and she swung down and into the
room in one smooth motion.  Her father, sleeping as he often did
as a panda, was a lump of black and white fur in the dimly lit
room.  Still tired, not even caring that blanket and futon were
slightly damp, Ranma laid them out on the floor and slid the
window closed, then crawled back to sleep, for sleep, at least,
would let her forget some things until she awoke again.

**********

     The broom swished across the streets, stirring up faint
clouds of dust in its wake.  Shampoo held the bamboo stick
tightly in her hands, feeling the smooth, supple wood under her
fingers.  The rain of a few hours ago was mostly drained away
now, lying in scattered puddles in the streets that she was
extremely careful not to accidentally splash up onto herself with
the broom.

     The early-morning streets were empty of people, the stores
dark and closed.  The sun was rising, but it would be a good
half-hour before the city truly began to come alive.  Early
morning was her favourite time in the city; it was one of the few
times she was able to forget, if just for a little while, the
crowded streets and the unfamiliar sights of Japan.  She had
woken earlier than usual this morning, and with nothing to do,
had decided to sweep the walk outside the Nekohanten.  She'd
gradually relaxed into the rhthym of it, allowing the gentle
motion of the sweeping to take away whatever thoughts she might
have.

     She paused for a moment and wiped a hand across her
forehead, flipping back a few sweat-darkened bangs that dangled
in front of her eyes.  The continual cloud of dust she'd been
stirring up in her wake settled to the ground around the head of
the broom.

     Behind her, there was a soft fluttering sound, as an errant
breeze blew the banners hanging beneath the restaurant sign
against each other.  She glanced back at them, and smiled
slightly.  The stylised dragon and phoenix were comforting
memories of home, symbols she'd seen around the village many
times.

     Home.  The thought made the smile disappear as quickly as it
had come.  Home was a place far, far away, across oceans and
rivers and mountains and valleys.  Home was not here, and never
would be.

     She returned to her sweeping with renewed vigour, the dust
swirling up about her ankles again.  Gradually, she was able to
push down thoughts of home beneath the pleasant monotony of the
broom's motion.

     She hummed softly, under her breath, not sure where the tune
came from for a few moments before she remembered.  An old song
of her childhood, part of a game she'd played in the village
square.  There'd been words to it as well, silly childish ones.
What were they again?

     The words came to her, and she sang quietly, surprised at
how familiar they felt.

     *Come to the pools and play with me*

     Just her, and the broom, and the song, with the air still
smelling crisp from the rainfall, fresh and new.  The game had
been played by a circle of seven, who walked around another child
at the centre of the circle.  The one in the centre stood with
her hand covering her eyes and a finger outstretched.  Each time
they finished the set of six verses, they would stop walking and
whoever was pointed at would leave the circle and take the place
of the child in the centre, who would sit by the side and wait
for the end of the game, until there was no one left.  The last
child remaining would start the game again, then.

     *My heart is deeper than the sea*

     It brought back pleasant memories, of a happy childhood in
the village, of training with the other girls to be warriors, of
the times between training when they ran around, laughing and
playing together.  Unconsciously, her voice rose in volume.

     *Come little child and take my hand*

     The dust rose slowly around her as she swept, moving
as gracefully as she would have in a fight, dust rising as her
song rose.

     *For mine is green and pleasant land*

     Out of her sight, a small black shape trotted out of an
alleyway and blinked sleepy eyes at the pleasant melody in a
language he didn't know.

     *Your shape shall be of falseness shorn*

     The morning sun was spilling golden down the streets now,
shining sparkling glimmers in the glass windows of storefronts.
It warmed her face, as she came to the last verse, not realizing
she had an audience of one.

     *And in my waters be reborn*

     She finished, and dropped the broom in surprise when she
heard something make a soft, almost inquiring, squeal.  It
clattered on the streets, and she glanced down at the small black
pig with the yellow and black bandanna around its neck.

     Then came embarassment, that someone, anyone, had heard her
singing a song like a child.  The black pig grunted and raised a
hoof to point at the door of the Nekohanten.

     "Nihao Ryoga," Shampoo said, kneeling down and picking up
the broom from the street as she regarded the pig.  "Want hot
water?"

     P-chan squealed and nodded his head.  Shampoo rose up,
tucking the broom under one arm, and stepped towards the door of
the restaurant.  The pig squealed again, and shook his head at
her.

     "What?" she said.  P-chan trotted off towards the alleyway
from which he'd emerged, and after a moment and a glance back
from the pig, Shampoo followed him.

     "Ah," she said in realization as they neared the alleway.
Ryoga's clothes lay in a wet heap on the floor of the alley, next
to his enormous backpack and red bamboo umbrella.

     She carefully fitted the broom next to the umbrella, then
tucked the clothing under her arm and picked up the backpack
with her free hand.  The backpack was even heavier than it
looked, and the umbrella's weight was incredible, but Shampoo was
easily strong enough to lift both of them.

     P-chan leading a few steps in front of her, she headed back
to the restaurant and slid the door open with her shoulder,
keeping a grip on the clothing and backpack.  She stepped inside,
waited until P-chan was in, and then closed the door behind her
after putting the backpack and Ryoga's clothes on one of the
restaurant tables.  The broom she consigned to leaning against
the table edge.

     "Wait here, Ryoga.  I get you hot water," Shampoo said.  The
pig nodded and sat down on his haunches, glancing around the
dimly-lit dining room of the Nekohanten.  The chairs were up on
the wooden tables, and in one corner of the ceiling an electric
fan hummed softly, making the inside of the restaurant cool.  A
folding wall on one side was painted with a scene of distant
mountains and bare-branched trees, done in watercolour on silk.  

     Shampoo stepped behind the counter and pushed back the
curtain that separated the dining room from the kitchen, heading
back into the area where they prepared the meals.  That was
simple and functional, without the elaborate design of the dining
room; that was for the customer's benefit.  There was a certain
way a Chinese restaurant was supposed to look in people's minds,
and her great-grandmother had decided it was best to fulfill it.
The kitchen had been given no such care, though, and it was
crowded with shelves and counters and boxes of noodles and
vegetables.  Shampoo filled a small pot with hot water from the
sink and headed back out into the dining room.  P-chan hadn't
moved from the spot he'd been in, but he lifted his head slightly
and looked longingly up at the hot water.

     Shampoo tipped a little out over his head, and stepped back
as the small pig expanded to a large, naked boy.  She covered her
mouth with her hand to hide a smile as Ryoga frantically
scrambled to cover himself with his hands.

     "Could you please look away?" he asked plaintively.

     "Is not like I no see it before," Shampoo said, but she
turned away anyway, hearing the soft rustle of clothing being
pulled on.  "You done yet?"

     "Just about."

     She glanced back surreptitiously, in time to see Ryoga pull
his shirt over his broad chest.  He went red and turned away from
her.

     "You only man I ever meet who shyer around girls than
Ranma," she said as she folded her arms and cocked her head to
one side to look at him.  "Why you sleeping in alley, anyway?"

     "I kinda got lost after the wedding," Ryoga said with a
sigh.  "I didn't really want to hang around..."

     "Don't think any of us did," Shampoo said quietly, leaning
back and putting her hands on the edge of the table behind her as
she looked at Ryoga.

     "If you and Ukyou hadn't shown up when you did, I don't know
what would have happened," Ryoga said with a shake of his head
that ended up with him looking at the floor, dark bangs hiding
his eyes.  "Sweet Akane might have ended up married to that..."

     He raised his head and looked at the displeased expression
on Shampoo's face.  "Sorry.  I probably shouldn't talk about him
like that in front of you."

     "Is okay," Shampoo said, her face softening.  "You and him
not get along all the time.  I know that.  Ranma is hard man to
understand."

     "You think you understand him?" Ryoga said in a slightly
disbelieving tone.

     "No," Shampoo said with a shrug and sigh.  "Not understand
him at all."

     Ryoga looked uncomfortable for a moment, then turned away
from her and grabbed his backpack and umbrella from the table
they rested on.  "Well... I guess I should be going.  Thanks a
lot, Shampoo.  For the hot water."

     "No problem," Shampoo said.  "We Jusenkyou people look out
for each other, right?"

     Ryoga nodded.  "I guess so."

     There was a hesitant look on his face for a moment, and then
he spoke again.  "What was that you were singing outside?"

     Shampoo looked away for a moment before answering.  "Just
child song.  Something we used to sing in village."

     "It was nice," Ryoga said slowly, looking embarassed at his
words.  "Even though I didn't understand any of it."

     "Remind me of home," Shampoo said wistfully.

     "Do you... do you miss China?"

     Shampoo looked surprised, then gave Ryoga warm smile that
made her face light up.  "Yes.  I miss it a lot."

     "It's a beautiful place," Ryoga said.  "So different from
Japan.  There's still so much of it that's unspoiled, where they
haven't thrown up fast-food chains and shopping malls..."

     He sighed.  "I understand how you feel.  I miss my home
too."

     Then he shut his mouth, and the rare moment of understanding
between them faded.  "I really should go."

     Shampoo pushed herself up from leaning on the table and took
a few steps towards Ryoga.  "You want me to help you find
someplace?  Maybe go to Tendo house?"

     Ryoga looked very surprised at the offer, but shook his
head.  "No.  Thanks anyway."

     He walked to the door, boots clumping on the wooden floor,
and placed his hand on the sliding door that led outside.
"Whatever it is I'm looking for, I've got to find it myself."

     He raised his umbrella, a half-salute of farewell, red
bamboo a pattern of dark and pale shadow in the lights from
overhead and the beams of the rising sun outside.  "I'll see you
around, Shampoo."

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

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