Chapter 4:  King of the Road.

	Hidoshi frowned at the map, turned it upside down, and frowned at it
again.  His mother had tried to teach him how to read maps, but he had
never been able to master it.  It wasn't a conceptual difficulty -- a
map was like a picture taken from very high up -- but they only showed
you where other things were, never where you were.  And they only showed
where some other things were, not everything.  This map showed the
location of the Imperial palace grounds, for example, but Hidoshi, try
as he might, could not find the okonomiyaki stand across the street
anywhere on it.

	He pulled out the compass his mother had given him, but it confidently
indicated, as always, that north was in the direction of his wrist.  He
shook the compass, but it remained adamant.  He put it in his other
hand, and it immediately pointed to his other wrist.  It hated him.  

	Hidoshi had no choice.  He would have to ask directions.

	He walked up to the stand  "Hiya, sugah," said the cook, a cleanshaven
fortyish man with long hair.  "Yoah lookin' a mite peaked, there. 
What'll it be?"

	"I'm lost," said Hidoshi, with some embarrassment.  He held the map
out.  "I need to get to..."

	"Oh, honey, this heah's a map o' Tokyo," interrupted the cook.  "Yoah
way out in Kansai province.  That map won't do you no good heah."  

	Hidoshi folded the map.  "I need to get to Nerima."

	"No foolin'?  Ah used ta live in Nerima.  Kinda crazy place.  You suah
you don't want somethin' ta eat?  Ah'll make it extra large, jes' for
you."

	Hidoshi shook his head.  "Just tell me which way to go."

	"Sweetie, you can't walk to Nerima, it's ovah three hundred kilometahs
east of heah.  You should go south to Nara and catch a train."

	"I don't have any money."

	"How awful!  No wondah you look so hungry.  Let me make you a free one,
okay?"

	The cook poured batter into a mixing bowl and began adding meat and
vegetables.  Hidoshi's stomach began to growl.  It had been far too long
since he had eaten a good meal, but the cook's effeminate speech and
mannerisms were making him nervous.  He began to suspect the man was
trying to seduce him.

	The cook stopped stirring and frowned up at him.  "You know, sugah, you
remind me of someone."  He reached up and touched Hidoshi's chin,
turning his face to the right.  "You surely do.  Now if only ah could
remembah who..."

	"I have to go!"  Hidoshi backed away, trembling.  "Thank you for the
directions but I have to go!  South, you say?  G'bye now!"  He turned
and bolted, his shirt flapping as he ran.  



	"Well, that was rude," muttered Ukyo, frowning at the boy's retreating
back.  "The boy didn't even wait foah his... HEY!  COME BACK!  YOAH
GOIN' THE WRONG WAY!"



	Chapter 5:  Sitting on the Dock of the Bay.

	The sea stank.  It smelled of brackish salt water and dead fish.  Ryoga
watched a seagull soar about aimlessly and berated himself.  He was a
failure as a husband and father.  He couldn't support his family, he
hadn't been faithful, he was an embarrassment to his wife and children,
and, as Shampoo had once put it, he could get lost in his own pants.

	It was Ranma's fault, really.  Things had been fine before Ranma shut
down the dojo, but life had been dark ever since.  He'd worked for a
mine, but the mine closed.  He'd worked in an office supplies warehouse,
but they had let him go after a month.  Meanwhile, Shampoo had been
working harder and harder just to make ends meet.

	The sound of a motorcycle interrupted his reverie.  He looked up,
hoping she had come.  He had looked up hopefully at sound after sound
for the past hour, but it was never her.

	This time it was.

	She stopped the bike and pulled off her helmet, letting her long,
beautiful hair fall down her back.  Watching her, Ryoga felt a twinge of
guilt.  He had left the house because he had wanted to help her and had
only given her more work.  She tucked her helmet under her arm, put her
hands on her hips, and gave him a look.  

	"I'm sorry," said Ryoga.

	"Why can't you just stay put?" demanded Shampoo.  "Where did you think
you were going?  Just out for a stroll?  Walk around the block, hey?"

	"I was looking for a job," said Ryoga.  

	"Mmm.  Didn't find one?"

	Ryoga closed his eyes and shook his head.  Shampoo sighed, put down the
kickstand, and shut the engine off.  "Why you want a job?  Bored?  I
keep telling you we make enough from the restaurant.  Why don't you
believe me?"

	"Because you're lying," Ryoga said simply.

	Shampoo huffed.  "Well, besides that."

	Ryoga didn't quite know how to respond.  "Uh... isn't that enough?"

	"No."

	"Well, I... I guess there isn't any other reason... but I think
that..."

	Shampoo reached down and clouted him on the head.  "Idiot!  That was a
joke!  You take everything so serious."  She slapped the seat of the
bike.  "Come on, climb up.  Sayami and Seiko are running the
restaurant.  I want to get back before they burn it down."

	Ryoga climbed onto the seat and gingerly put his arms around her
waist.  The breeze blew her hair in his face, and he caught a whiff of
lilac.  "I just feel so useless.  Like a millstone dragging the family
down."

	Shampoo put her helmet on and started the engine.  "Hold tighter,
you'll fall off.

	Ryoga tightened his grip.

	"Tighter."

	Ryoga leaned against her back and locked his arms together.  Shampoo
wriggled.  "Ooh, that's nice.  A little higher, please."

	Ryoga let go, blushing.  "We're in public!"

	"So what?"

	"What will people think?"

	"They'll think you're a lucky bastard.  And you are."  She grinned
mischievously at him over her shoulder, then her expression turned more
serious.  "Something will turn up.  It always does.  I give you my word
as an Amazon."

	"You're not an Amazon any more."

	Shampoo kicked the bike into motion, causing Ryoga to clutch at her
wildly.  "Details."
	
	
-- David