All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless


               =========================
                      RELENTLESS
                A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction

                   By Grayson Towler
               =========================

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                      CHAPTER FIVE:
                      Boiling Point
-----------------------------------------------------------

Akane drifted in a dark sea somewhere below the reaches of 
consciousness, oblivious to the passage of time.  She was in a 
strange nether zone between dreaming and lucidity, unwilling to 
move towards awakening for fear of what she might find there.

<Why am I afraid of waking up?>

"'Cause you just pounded yourself with a big rock, stupid."

It was Ranma's voice, of course.  Akane concentrated on the source 
of the words, straining to pierce the gauzy darkness of her own 
unconscious.  At first, he was just a red and black smudge in her 
mind's eye, but he gradually came into focus as he continued to 
speak.

"What the heck were you thinkin', you dummy?" Ranma taunted.  "You 
coulda killed yourself with that crazy stunt!"

<I wanted to get stronger.  I wanted to prove to you that I'm not 
useless.>

Ranma snorted disdainfully.  "Brilliant idea, Akane.  You really 
made your point this time."

<I wanted to help you...>

"Some help it's gonna be when I come home and find they're keepin' 
what's left of you in a jelly jar!  Are you nuts?  Is that it?"  

<I just... I wanted...>  Akane felt as if her soul were constricting 
with grief and shame.  Why was he always so cruel?  Why did he have 
to tease her like that?  Couldn't he see that she was trying to...

She thought she caught a glimpse of movement in the darkness behind 
Ranma.  There was a brief flash, like light glinting off a flat 
steel surface, and a sweep of long dark hair, tied up with a white 
bow.  She heard the faint echo of Ukyou's laughter.

Ranma took a brief glance over his shoulder, then shrugged.  "Aw 
c'mon, Akane.  If she'd been around when I left, I'd have told her 
the same thing I told you.  She don't have any more business 
followin' me than you do.  I can handle my own problems, Akane.  
You just stay outta my way."

<It's not fair!>

"What, that Ucchan's with me?"  Ranma smirked.  "At least we'll 
eat better on the road with her around."

He just never missed an opportunity to ride her about her cooking, 
did he?  Anger crackled through Akane's mind like red lightning, 
arcing through the darkness in visible streaks.  Ranma seemed 
unimpressed.  

"Yeah, yeah, get all bent out of shape 'cause I'm tellin' you what 
a lousy cook you are.  It's better than thinkin' about how stupid 
you were to try that moronic bakusai ten-ketsu trainin'.  You are 
gonna stop, right?  I mean, you realize that you ain't got a prayer 
of learnin' that technique, don't you?"

<No.  I'm going to keep doing it.>

Ranma threw his hands into the air, exasperated.   "You are such a 
macho idiot, Akane!  You gotta be the most stubborn, pig-headed, 
narrow-minded, plug-ugly, tomboyish excuse for a girl that I 
ever..."

<I don't care.  I'm going to learn this technique, and I'm going to 
come save (show) you.  I've made up my mind.>

"You CAN'T learn it!" Ranma yelled at her.  "You ain't good enough 
for that!  If you don't get that through your thick skull, you're 
gonna end up splattered all over that damned rock!"

<Why can't you just... why can't you ever...>

"Akane-san."

Another voice pierced the veil of blackness, strong and gentle in 
her mind.  She focused in on its source, and a figure coalesced 
through her dark mental haze.  

<Ryouga...>

The image of her friend that snapped into focus was representative 
of her finest memories of Hibiki Ryouga.  This was not the Ryouga 
that was always awkward and shy around her, nor the angry boy who 
had fought Ranma on so many occasions.  This was the Ryouga who had 
helped train her, once when she had needed to face Kodachi on the 
Kuno girl's own turf, and once again to regain her place as heir 
to the Tendou dojo after she had lost it to her false sisters.  
This was a Ryouga who was confident and supportive, who encouraged 
her and helped her believe in herself.  It was a voice she 
desperately needed to hear right now.

"The road is hard, Akane-san," Ryouga said.  "You must realize that 
you are not as strong as I was when I underwent the bakusai ten-ketsu 
training.  It will take you longer to complete the regimen... and it 
will be very, very hard."

<Can I do it?>

Ranma and Ryouga answered almost simultaneously:

"You're outta your mind."    
"I have faith in you, Akane-san."

Neither of them had answered her question.  <Can I do it?  Am I 
capable of learning this technique?>

They were both silent for a while, regarding each other with 
questioning looks.  She knew that they were both just dream-images, 
but for the moment they seemed so real that she felt she could 
almost reach out and touch them.  She waited anxiously for them 
to answer.

Finally, they both shrugged, then answered as one:  "I don't 
know."

She knew she shouldn't be disappointed.  She knew there was only 
one way to find out if she could master the breaking point technique, 
and that was to continue her training.  

"Yeah, you gotta wake up for that first," Ranma said.  His voice was 
gentler now, not so full of derision and scorn.  "You don't even 
know how bad you're hurt."

<Do I have to wake up?>  She knew, at some level, that when she 
returned to consciousness she would find a body wracked with pain 
awaiting her.  Part of her was terrified at what injuries she might 
discover she'd sustained when she'd hit that rock.  <Can't I just 
stay here for a while longer?>

Ranma shook his head.  "Time's up, Tendou Akane," he said, not 
unkindly.  

She could feel herself being swept along towards awakening, as if 
she were caught in a strong current.  She could sense that she was 
rising up from the blackness deep inside her, towards the light and 
the pain that awaited her outside of this dream.  She was powerless 
to stop it now, helpless in the grip of inertia.  Consciousness 
rushed towards her, as inevitable as a boulder swinging on the end 
of a long rope...

She awoke with a gasp.  

"Akane? AKANE!  Oh, my baby is awake!"

There was no mistaking the voice of her father, nor was his 
near-hysterical mood any surprise.  He was emotional at the best 
of times, but when one of his daughters was sick or hurt he always 
came completely unglued.  She turned her head slowly towards the 
direction of his voice.  He was mostly a blurry smudge of brown 
to her, but she tried to force a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay, daddy," she attempted to say.  She discovered that her 
throat was incredibly dry, and the words she spoke were scratchy 
and indistinct.  

The pain was not as bad as she'd feared, but it was still quite 
intense.  Her whole right side throbbed with a dull, pervasive 
ache, and her head was buzzing like a nest of angry hornets.  
Occasionally, a sharp burst of agony would flare up somewhere along 
her body against the general backdrop of pain, making her clench 
up and gasp for breath.  She felt like she'd been run over by a... 
like she'd been trampled by a...

Well, she felt like she'd smashed into a giant rock swinging on a rope.  
She couldn't think of anything else much worse than that right now.  

"Oh my baby!  My poor girl!  Waaah!"  Tendou Soun continued his 
monologue of anguish.  In spite of her pain, Akane was overwhelmed 
with the need to show him that everything was all right.  Gritting 
her teeth with effort, she forced herself into a sitting position.  
It took all her will to keep from passing out - the pain intensified 
when she moved, obscuring her vision with violent bursts of phantom 
light in her eyes.  

"I'm okay, daddy," she managed, this time intelligibly.  "See?"

Her father seemed less than completely convinced, but he did tone 
down his sobbing just a bit.  Akane blinked to clear her vision, 
and was not terribly surprised to discover that she was in Dr. 
Tofu's clinic.  She wondered what time it was, and prayed that she 
hadn't been in a coma or something.  She assured herself that the 
pain felt too fresh for that.

The door swung open, revealing Dr. Tofu and Saotome-panda.  The 
two of them were carrying some bulky cardboard boxes, the contents 
of which shifted noisily as they moved.  

"Ah!" Dr. Tofu said upon entering.  "You're awake, Akane-chan!  
That's good, that's good... but you really shouldn't be sitting 
up now!"

The doctor set down his box and moved to the bedside.  Her father 
leveled a glare at Saotome Genma that could have melted lead - she 
noticed that the panda was already sporting several bandages and 
prominent bumps on the head.  Evidently, Tendou Soun was not 
finished with being angry at his friend for letting Akane embark 
on this training regimen.  Genma, true to his nature, attempted 
vainly to cower behind Betty the skeleton.  

"Now, Akane-chan," the doctor said, kneeling down beside her and 
gently inspecting her damaged body.  "How do you feel?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she lied unconvincingly.  "Really, I've had worse."

"Mmm, I'm not so sure about that," Dr. Tofu said.  "You were very 
lucky, Akane-chan.  Nothing's broken, at least, and there's no 
internal bleeding.  But I suspect you have a concussion, and you're 
going to be sore for a long time.  I recommend at least four days 
of rest, with no strenuous activity..."

"I can't!" she cried.  Tears trickled down her cheeks, both from her 
physical pain and from her frustration.  "I need to continue my 
training!"

"Akane!" her father wailed.  "You can't possibly intend to keep 
punishing yourself like this!"

"I have to, daddy," she shot back.  "I'm a martial artist.  I have 
to...  I can't just... Ranma needs..." Words failed her.

Her father began another round of noisy lamentations.

Dr. Tofu sighed heavily.  "I was afraid you'd say that, Akane-chan.  
Well, there's no stopping you once you set your mind to something, 
is there?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Tofu," Akane muttered.  She felt ashamed at her own 
stubbornness, but refused to back down.

"Well, I guess I'll have to help you then!" announced the doctor, 
rather more cheerfully than Akane would have predicted.  

Akane's eyes brightened.  "Really, doctor?  You'll... you'll help 
me learn the technique?"

"Hmm.  Well, mind you, I don't actually KNOW this bakusai ten-ketsu 
technique myself, but Mr. Saotome did explain what you were trying 
to do with your training.  I must say that it all sounds very strange 
and dangerous."  He paused, frowning thoughtfully.  "But, I can at 
least help you keep from getting hurt too badly during your 
training."

"Doctor, can you really help my little girl?" Soun clutched the 
younger man's shirt imploringly.  "Oh thank you, thank you!"

Dr. Tofu shrugged.  "I'll research what I can about the technique.  
I'm not sure how much I can help you, but..."

He let the sentence trail off as he moved to the boxes that he and 
Mr. Saotome had brought in.  He rummaged around in one of the 
containers, finally producing an American football helmet.  He 
began to draw all manner of pads and protective gear from the 
boxes, spreading them out on the floor before them.

"These," he explained, "should probably fit you.  I borrowed them 
from the school.  I want you to wear them while you train, so the 
impacts you endure aren't so severe."

Akane frowned at the equipment.  "I... thank you, Dr. Tofu.  But 
do you think that using these might undermine the training?  I 
mean, when Ryouga trained, he didn't use any..."

"I understand," Dr. Tofu interrupted, "but you must remember that 
you have farther to go than Ryouga did before you gain the strength 
to use the breaking point.   You do realize that, don't you?"  He 
handed her a knee-pad and regarded her thoughtfully.

Akane remembered the dream she'd been having, and what Ryouga had 
told her.  <The road is hard,> she thought.  It was going to be 
much, much harder than she'd anticipated, but she was determined 
to follow through with this.  She hugged the knee-pad to her chest, 
feeling another tear creep down her cheek.

"I understand, Dr. Tofu.  Thank you.  Thank you so much."

- - - - - -

Snow had come early this year at the higher altitudes, and China 
unfolded before them in a tapestry of silver and white.  Tarou 
liked to keep to the rural areas, and he always flew low.  He had 
discovered through unpleasant experience that his mammoth cursed 
form would show up on radar, and one harrowing encounter with the 
Chinese military had been enough to teach him the value of caution 
when he was flying.  The four martial artists skimmed the rocky 
terrain, sailing towards the next town in which a rise in panty 
thefts and perversion had been reported.

Tarou endured the unwelcome burden of his passengers and their 
baggage in silence.  At least he had forced them to lighten the 
load a bit by having fem-boy and the wonder pig switch to their 
cursed forms.  They'd certainly pitched a fit when he'd insisted 
they should change - Saotome had been especially irate at being 
forced into his cursed body.  But Tarou had given them a convoluted 
speech about wing surface area to mass ratios, drag coefficients, 
and aeronautic velocity formulas, until they'd finally been so 
overwhelmed that they gave up.  It was sheer bluff, of course - 
Tarou didn't know what force it was that kept him in the air, but 
it certainly wasn't physics.  His comparatively tiny crane wings 
had no more aerodynamic chance of lifting his ponderous minotaur 
body than a swallow had of carrying a coconut, but those fools 
didn't know that.  Besides, it DID take effort to fly, and losing 
a little extra weight certainly couldn't hurt.

He wondered how long he'd be able to deal with Saotome before he 
finally got so sick of the cross-dresser that he couldn't stand 
it anymore.  Finding out that Ukyou was actually one of his fiancees 
had almost driven Tarou into a murderous rage.  He could at least 
understand the Amazon girl being latched on to fem-boy - he knew 
about the Amazon laws, and was well aware that if you let one of 
those crazy women get her hooks into you, it was almost impossible 
to shake them.  But that a worthless piece of garbage like Saotome 
would have both a nice girl like Tendou Akane and a beautiful young 
lady like Kuonji Ukyou engaged to him was almost more than Tarou 
could endure.  He was certain that Ukyou had been forced into the 
whole thing somehow, and that if she let herself really see what 
kind of person Saotome was she'd drop him like a hot coal.  The 
sight of the bright, lovely Ukyou fawning over that pervert, the 
way the sound of the name "Ranchan" rubbed across his nerves like 
sandpaper... he didn't know how long he'd be able to put up with 
this.  

Still, he was willing to play along for the moment.  He didn't 
think Saotome's hopes of finding Happosai would amount to anything, 
and even if they did catch up to the pervert he doubted that the 
old fossil could do anything useful for them.  Besides, if fem-boy 
actually did manage to redirect the Reikoku back towards Happosai 
and the thing did kill the withered little troll, it would mean he 
would be stuck with his onerous name for the rest of his life.  
Some plan that was.

No, Tarou had another idea.  He still had to work out some of the 
details, but he was certain that he could not only conquer the 
Reikoku, but that he could turn this whole miserable situation to 
his ultimate advantage.  It was the sort of plan that Saotome would 
never imagine in his wildest dreams.  He was also pretty sure that 
fem-boy wouldn't like the idea if he heard it.  Tarou didn't care 
about that.  He wondered, though, if he might be able to convince 
Ukyou of the value of his idea...

Ukyou curled herself into a tight ball on Tarou's immense shoulder, 
huddling in her jacket against the sharp chill of the mountain wind.  
Traveling like this was certainly the most efficient means they had 
of keeping their distance from the Reikoku, but it was very lonely.  
Tarou had arranged their "seating" for best possible weight 
distribution, which meant she had a big cluster of octopus tentacles 
between herself and Ranma.  Ryouga, of course, wasn't much company 
while he was a pig, so that meant she didn't have anyone to talk to 
as they covered the leagues.  She sighed, wondering if Tarou had 
done that deliberately.  It wouldn't surprise her.

Ukyou had attempted to stick with her role as peacemaker in the 
group with grim determination, but she was not a natural for the 
job.  In fact, she didn't even have any role models.  She'd tried 
imitating Kasumi until she'd realized that the eldest Tendou 
daughter never made peace at all - she simply ignored the conflicts 
around her with superhuman ease.  So she'd gone on what instincts 
she could muster in her attempts to keep fights from breaking out 
in their small party.

Ranma and Tarou were constantly at each other's throats.  Sometimes 
she felt that if she heard another nasty slight about menstruation 
or another awful pun about women's underwear she was going to go 
insane.  The two of them almost never let up.  She had no idea why 
they hated each other to such a degree, but there was very little 
she could do to defuse their constant bickering.  She eventually 
ended up resorting to hauling out the spatula and whapping Ranma 
on the head to stop the arguments.  It wasn't much of a diplomatic 
strategy, but it seemed to work a bit.

She felt a little bad about hitting Ranma - certainly she didn't 
unload on him as hard as she could - but at least it was safe.  
Almost everybody hit Ranma once in a while.  There was just 
something about him that was so... bashable.  He griped sometimes, 
but he didn't seem to mind it very much.  She didn't know how Tarou 
would react to being thumped on the head and told to shut up, 
though.  There was something about that boy that made her wary 
and uneasy.  There was a dangerous edge to his words that Ukyou 
didn't like at all.

The fact that he turned into something out of a nightmare whenever 
he got wet didn't help much either.  

Fortunately, Tarou didn't seem to have as much interest in picking 
on Ryouga, apart from the occasional "pig-boy" jab.  This was a 
small blessing, at least.  Ryouga was a much easier target than 
Ranma - with his quick temper, his gullibility, his embarrassing 
curse, and his dismal sense of direction.  She glanced over towards 
the lost boy, who was nestled amongst the gear so he wouldn't blow 
away in the wind.  She felt a little sorry for him.  It couldn't 
be much fun to travel as a piglet...

Ryouga yawned drowsily and tried not to think about how bored he 
was.  The others, at least, could look at the scenery going by as 
they flew, but the only thing he could see from his vantage point 
was a small patch of sky.  The journey was pretty monotonous for 
him, but he was trying not to go to sleep.  If he slept all day, 
he'd be up all night... and there'd be nothing for him to do then, 
either.  At least flying on Tarou didn't make him as afraid as 
flying on the airplane had.  He sighed ruefully, mentally noting 
that a phobia about airplanes was just another item on the long 
list of Hibiki Ryouga deficiencies.  

What a life.  He still didn't think he was going to survive this 
thing with the Reikoku.  Happosai was too crafty and sly for them 
to catch, and he had all the time in the world.  And even if they 
did catch him, then what?  Tarou was probably right - once they'd 
attacked the Reikoku, they were in this to the death.  But for all 
his boasting about how brilliant he was, Pantyhose had yet to come 
up with an alternative course of action.  

He really needed to write some letters, to his parents and to Akari.  
He might never see them again.  He just hoped that he wouldn't have 
to die as a pig.

Of course, maybe the Reikoku wouldn't have to kill them at all - 
sometimes it seemed like they were going to kill each other first.  
He doubted that Ranma and Pantyhose could go on much longer without 
having it out.  At first, he had considered trying to side with 
Tarou if it came down to a fight, just out of an old desire to see 
Ranma beaten.  But he found that he couldn't bring himself to throw 
in with Pantyhose, even in the exchanges of insults and barbs.  
Perhaps it was the way that Tarou lorded his supposedly superior 
intellect over everybody else that did it.  Perhaps it was the way 
that Tarou always laced a subtext of threat into everything he said, 
to make sure everyone remembered he could turn into a monster that 
could crush them all if he wanted.  If there was one thing Hibiki 
Ryouga couldn't stand, it was a bully.  

Not that Ranma was much better, of course.  Maybe Ranma wasn't a 
bully, but he sure could be a whiner.  The way he'd kicked and 
screamed when Tarou had insisted they travel in their cursed forms 
had been revolting to behold.  He hadn't even tried to argue for 
Ryouga's benefit - he'd mostly griped that he wasn't that much 
lighter as a girl.  As if being a girl was any big deal.  Ryouga 
scowled at nothing in particular, once again feeling irritated at 
the way Ranma constantly griped about his so-called curse.  Ranma 
didn't know what being cursed was really about...

Ranma-chan shifted irritably to try to get more comfortable.  
There was certainly no First Class section on Air Pantyhose.  At 
least the scenery was decent - there was nothing that Pantyhose could 
do to ruin that, anyway.  He'd been bending over backwards to ruin 
just about everything else on this trip.

It wasn't being stuck as a girl that bothered Ranma-chan, it was 
that Pantyhose had forced her to change.  The argument about the 
traveling arrangements had been a battle of wills, and Ranma-chan 
simply didn't like to lose any kind of contest.  She certainly 
didn't believe any of that mumbo-jumbo that Pantyhose had been 
spewing about aerodynamics and stuff, but it all boiled down to 
the fact that Pantyhose was doing the flying, so he got to call 
the shots.  He could make Ranma-chan accept it, but he couldn't 
make her like it.

The hell of it was that they needed Pantyhose.  Ranma-chan had to 
admit that the guy was doing most of the important work on this 
journey right now.  He was transporting them safely, at speeds 
that kept them days or weeks ahead of the Reikoku.  He was the 
only one who spoke Chinese, so he did most of the talking when 
they got down to asking around about Happosai.  He was the one who 
knew his way around the countryside.  Though it pained Ranma-chan 
greatly to admit it, their chances of surviving were a whole lot 
better with Pantyhose Tarou in the group.

If only the guy wasn't such a complete jerk.

It seemed like a fight between them was inevitable.  They'd been 
testing each other ever since Pantyhose had joined the party, 
tossing insults back and forth, watching each other's reactions to 
see if they could find any psychological weaknesses.  It was all 
just a warm-up to the battle which was sure to come.  Ranma-chan 
wasn't sure if she'd found any real holes in Tarou's mental armor, 
except that she could pretty much rely on being able to get him mad 
with the name thing.  The only other observation of interest that 
she made was that she had begun to suspect Pantyhose wasn't as happy 
to have his monstrous cursed form as he pretended to be.  Sure, the 
guy loved being able to power up and waste people easily, but 
Ranma-chan was beginning to sense that there was something about 
changing into his monstrous alter-ego that made Pantyhose 
uncomfortable.  It might be something she'd be able to put to 
use.  The biggest danger with going up against Tarou would be that 
he'd change on you, so if there was some way to psych him into 
staying human...

Ranma-chan frowned and let that train of thought slide back into 
her subconscious.  She had to keep in mind that, as big a butthead 
as he was, Pantyhose wasn't the real enemy.  She had to consider 
the possibility that Tarou was right, and that they wouldn't be 
able to get the Reikoku off their tails now that they were its 
prey.  That meant that she was going to have to have to figure out 
a way to beat that damned monster three more times.  She was pretty 
confident she had a reliable way to rack up one more victory, but 
after that...

Things were going to get rough after that.  It was probably time 
to start some more training.

Ranma-chan leaned back and took in the landscape, a world wearing 
a ephemeral blanket of pristine snow.  She let her thoughts drift 
back to home, and wondered how Akane was doing.  Nabiki had been 
pretty curt when they'd last spoken, like she'd been really busy 
with something and didn't have the time to chat.  Ranma-chan 
wondered what could possibly get someone like Nabiki flustered...

- - - - - - 

"Ucchan's Okonomiyaki, may I help you?  No, I'm sorry, we don't 
do delivery anymore.  Yes... yes... I understand.  No, I'm afraid 
we can't.  I... excuse me?  Yes, I'm sorry.  If you'd like to come 
down, I can give you directions..."

*click*

Nabiki bit back a curse and dropped the receiver back into its 
cradle.  She had repeated that particular conversation about 
thirty times already today, and it was only lunch hour.  The lunch 
crowd in Ucchan's Okonomiyaki was smaller than in past days, but 
Nabiki could still detect a frantic and nervous accent to the 
atmosphere of the restaurant.  The service was slower than usual, 
and the patrons were getting restless.

*ring* 
*ring* 

<Not another one, dammit...>

A customer intercepted her as she was reaching for the phone.  
"Excuse me?  Do you work here?"

*ring* 

"I'm the manager," Nabiki answered.  "Can I get to you in just a 
second?"

*ring* 

"I just had a question," the middle-aged woman said.

*ring* 

"Just a second, please."  Nabiki forced a smile and picked up the 
phone.  "Hello, Ucchan's Okonomiyaki.  No, I'm sorry... what?  
Oh, yes, I see.  Well, that delivery person is no longer working 
with us.  Uh... no, I'm afraid we don't.  Thank you.  Yes.  I'm 
sorry.  Thank you, yes..."

*click*

Nabiki took a deep breath, then turned back to the customer.  "Now, 
how can I help you?"

"Well," the woman said, "I'm just wondering how long it's going to 
take to get my order."

<You'll get it when it's ready, you stupid cow,> Nabiki snarled 
mentally.  "We'll have it out to you as soon as possible, ma'am."

"Oh," the woman seemed disappointed with the response.  "It's just 
that I'm on my lunch break, so I don't have a whole lot of time."

<You and everybody else, you selfish little twerp.>  The thing 
that Nabiki hated the most about this job was that she had to be 
polite.  She'd seen first-hand how quickly customers would abandon 
her if she was rude or sarcastic to them.  Right now, she couldn't 
afford to lose a single patron, even if it meant she'd have to 
keep a civil tongue in her head under stress.  

"I'm very sorry to make you wait," Nabiki said.  "We're having a 
few technical problems today, you see."

"I guess that can't be helped," the woman said with a sigh.  "I 
just got used to how fast that darling girl Ukyou was.  I'm a little 
spoiled."

Nabiki tried not to glare as the woman wandered back to her seat.  
<Ukyou, Ukyou, Ukyou!  I am so sick of hearing how damned good Ukyou 
was that I could just strangle the next person who...>

*ring* 
*ring* 

"Ucchan's Okonomiyaki, can I help you?  No, Miss Kuonji has taken a 
leave of absence.  No, I'm afraid we don't... yes, the flyers 
said... sir, I'm sorry, but that was only for a limited time.  
We don't do delivery anymore.  Yes?  No, that was our printer's 
fault, it should have said so on the flyers.  Thank you..."

*click*

<Actually, that's a pretty good lie,> Nabiki thought.  <Wish I'd 
come up with that one earlier.>

The delivery idea, she realized now with deep chagrin, had been a 
colossal mistake.  For the first few days, things were wonderful - 
they had plenty of orders, she was never short of people to make 
the deliveries, they were raking in the dough.  Then the word had 
spread.

Nabiki had never really understood what the phrase "too much of a 
good thing" meant until now.  Simply put, the demand began to 
outweigh the supply at an alarming rate.  She had a fair number 
of free deliverers at her disposal, but there was only one Konatsu, 
and he simply couldn't keep up with the sheer volume of cooking that 
was being asked of him.

In an attempt to keep the ship afloat, Nabiki had allowed herself 
to get personally sucked into the whole disaster.  She'd come in 
to check on Konatsu during the dinner hour one day, and she'd ended 
up answering the phones for him to clear out more time for him to 
cook.  Relieving him of the duty of answering the phone and writing 
down the take-out orders had given him more time to actually prepare 
the food, and it looked like they might have been able to pull 
through and keep the delivery service going.  Since then, Nabiki 
had found herself spending more and more time over at Ucchan's 
doing precisely what she hadn't wanted to do:  real work.

Even so, it wasn't enough.  It became clear that her delivery system 
was coming unraveled.  She'd exhausted her supply of people who 
simply owed her favors early on, and she'd gotten down to the few 
people over whom she held some sort of embarrassing secret.  She 
figured she could blackmail that group as long as she needed, but 
what she hadn't counted on was how difficult it was to keep track 
of how they were performing in their jobs.  They sabotaged her 
delivery service in all sorts of subtle ways - taking too long to 
make a drop-off, mishandling the food on the way, being rude to 
customers, pretending to get lost, and generally being deliberately 
inept and inefficient.  She couldn't always figure out who had 
committed what blunder, and what was she going to do anyway?  
Fire them?

In a desperate attempt to pull things together, she'd sent Konatsu 
out on late-night rounds, following her classmates around Nerima to 
see if he could come up with more dirt.  She'd managed to scrounge 
up a few more delivery slaves so she could improve her rotation, 
but it still hadn't made much of a difference.  

The last straw had come three days ago, when the heating elements 
for half the grills in Ucchan's had burned out.

Konatsu simply didn't have the necessary hardware to keep up with 
the delivery service after that.  Nabiki had been overwhelmed with 
frustration, but the electricians had said it would take a week to 
get the parts they needed to fix it.  The worst part was that Ukyou 
had told her to have the grill looked at before she left, although 
Nabiki would sooner shave her legs with a  cheese grater than admit 
that fact to anyone. 

Business at the restaurant had gotten steadily worse since then.  
Nabiki learned that nobody was bothered by a restaurant that didn't 
do delivery, but that they got very upset when that restaurant 
promised deliveries and failed to follow through.  Word of mouth 
could make or break a small business like Ucchan's, and right now 
people weren't saying nice things.  

The profits she'd made in the first several days of the delivery 
scheme had vanished like morning mist.  Suddenly, she was pestered 
by irate customers who wanted okonomiyaki brought to their doorsteps, 
as her fliers had promised.  She was still getting calls from angry 
customers who'd been unhappy with the way her "employees" had handled 
past deliveries.  The crowds were dwindling, but with half the grill 
out of commission things were twice as frantic as normal.  She had 
a stack of useless menus that she'd paid to have printed, featuring 
new food items which Konatsu didn't know how to cook yet.  And, to 
top it off, she'd forgotten to buy fresh produce in all the 
commotion, so she'd had to pay to have the stuff delivered to the 
restaurant.

<What else,> she wondered, <could possibly go wrong?>

"Zounds!  Have I not already waited for the unseemly span of five 
full minutes to be served my repast?" thundered a too-familiar 
voice.  "A warrior such as the great Kuno Tatewaki should not be 
made to suffer such indignities!"

<Oh no,> she moaned inwardly.  <Please tell me I'm having a 
nightmare.>  She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed HIM until 
now - it was just another sign of how badly she'd been thrown off 
her stride by everything that had been going on.

Nabiki scrambled over to Konatsu and whispered in the young ninja's 
ear.  "Hey, Konatsu-chan, get that loudmouth his food and get him 
outta here as quick as you can, okay?  He'll scare off the other 
customers if he keeps this up!"

"Yes, Nabiki-san.  I'll do my best."  Konatsu turned to face her 
when he spoke.  He was looking a bit pale and drawn, probably from 
stress, but his expression when he regarded her was full of genuine 
adoration.

Nabiki staggered away towards the phone, which was ringing in its 
shrill, insistent voice once again.  As if her life wasn't 
complicated enough right now, it seemed as if Konatsu was developing 
a crush on her.  

<This,> she decided, <is as bad as it will ever get.>

Over the collective din of the ringing phone, the sizzling grill, and 
the chattering customers, Nabiki utterly failed to hear Konatsu's 
muffled cough.

- - - - - -

(Continued in second half...)��