Ranko could see herself sleeping again.  It was going to be another one 
of those dreams.  Again.  They always started this way, and she could 
never get through the futile inevitability of trying to wake herself 
before the nightmares began.  At least it was just a nightmare and 
nothing real, or was it?  It just seemed too real.  Too real to be 
imagined, she thought.
	There were voices, hushed and tight, behind her door.  They gradually 
increased in volume until they seemed right in front of her room, 
pounding the wood down with their clashing tempos and pitch.  Ranko 
watched herself stir ever so slightly from slumber.  She wanted to cry 
and scream back at the voices and tell them to stop.  She couldn't help 
but watch, transfixed and silent.  Suddenly a sound like a gunshot 
echoed through the room.  Ranko watched herself stir again, this time 
rising in bed to rub the sleep sand out of her eyes.  The door was 
thrown open and Ranko could see herself squint in the light sleepily 
peering about, the smell of cheap alcohol flooding her nose.
	"What's goin' on?" Ranko heard herself mutter in the dream.
	Mother was there, and Ranko could see herself try to see what was 
happening.  She could hear her mother sobbing, and her father muttering 
something.  Then the crying started, the endless crying and the praying 
from mother, answered only by father's drunken silence.  Ranko could 
vaguely make out her father's form in the shadowy side of the room she 
shared with her twin, Ranma.  There was a noise and Ranma said something 
unintelligible in his half-asleep state.  Ranko saw her mother crawl 
forward and plead for her father to stop, to leave them all alone.
	"Genma," she heard her mother plead.  "I beg you to stop.  Please don't 
take them away."
	It must have fallen on deaf ears because he kept coming for her.  Ranko 
could see herself tremble in fear as her mother fled to the master 
bedroom.  In an instant, Ranko found herself in her own body again, 
shadowed from the light by her father's towering form.  She could smell 
the stench of booze on him, and it flooded her senses, making her gag.  
He reached for her and as a giant hand reached out towards her, she 
screamed.  She screamed with all her might.  There was a flash of 
silver, a crash and the noise of glass breaking.  Then there she was, 
there was her mother holding her and rocking her, the tears mixing with 
her own.  
	Ranko looked up into the face of her mother, framed by the light of the 
harsh light of the hallway.  There was a black eye and blood trickling 
from her mouth and nose, and Ranko shook violently, shutting her eyes 
tightly and crying.  The tears wouldn't stop as she felt her mother 
rocking her and cooing, comforting, and stroking her hair.  
	Ranko looked back up again and saw her mother's face again, framed in 
the gentle light of the moon, proud and beautiful.  The softness of the 
light flooding Ranko's mind and washing away the dream.  The rounded 
face, and motherly smile eased the trembling and cleansed Ranko of the 
terror she felt only seconds ago.  Ranko reached up to touch her 
mother's face, the smooth, perfect, milk-white face smiling gently at 
her, holding her with gentle eyes and gentle beauty.
	Nodoka reached out to smooth the wild light-brown hair away from her 
daughter's tear-streaked face.  She held her daughter close and rocked 
her gently back to sleep, pushing a lock of her own dark brown hair 
behind an ear.  Ranko drifted back towards slumber, gripping her mother 
tightly.
	"It's okay, Ranko-chan," Nodoka cooed.  "It's all a bad dream.  It's 
just a bad dream."
	Ranko finally drifted back to gentle slumber, breathing deeply and 
evenly, a hint of a smile playing upon her lips.  Nodoka sighed in 
relief, and prayed that whatever it was that made her daughter cry out 
in pain and fear would never come back again.

	As the teacher's voice droned on and on, Ranko found it harder and 
harder to pay attention.  Only the casual elbow from her classmate, 
Akane Tendo, kept her awake, if it could be called that.
	"The spider's web is carefully constructed out of natural silk that 
possesses tensile strength comparable to that of a large steel cable," 
the teacher droned in a nasal voice.
	Ranko's eyelids started to droop again.
	"What's wrong with you?" Akane whispered as she casually elbowed Ranko 
into the world of the living, without the notice of the teacher.
	"Sleepy," Ranko mumbled.
	"I guessed that," Akane giggled.
	"�Didn't have�.g'night," Ranko mumbled as her eyelids dropped down over 
her eyes once more.
	"Each turn of the web and each connection are determined by a reflex," 
the teacher continued in his nasal voice.
	"Can you believe that?" Akane asked, a touch of awe in her voice.  "A 
spider does all that as a reflex."
	Ranko answered her question with a soft snore.  Akane poked her in the 
side again.
	"Aren't you listening?" she asked her brunette friend.
	"S'hard�" Ranko mumbled.
	"Does anyone know what this implies about instinctual versus mimicked 
behavior?" the teacher asked the class.
	There was a dull thud as Ranko hit her head on her desktop.

	Nodoka gently, but swiftly diced the tofu into smaller cubes for the 
soup.  As she carefully slid the small pile of cubes into the miso, she 
heard the front door close with a bang.
	"Ranko-chan, is that you?"
	"I'm home," Ranko called out to the kitchen.
	"How was your day at school?" Nodoka asked as Ranko stomped into the 
small kitchen.  "That good?"
	Ranko grumbled something unintelligible as she handed a small note to 
her mother.  Nodoka read it over and sighed. 
	"I told him already, mom," Ranko grumbled as she sat down at the table, 
shoulders slumped forward.  "Wasn't my fault.  I didn't have a good 
night."
	"That still isn't much of an excuse, now is it?" Nodoka admonished with 
a gentle smile.
	"I can't help it if I keep wakin' up in the middle of the night."
	"Perhaps we should talk to a doctor about it," Nodoka suggested.
	"No way!" her daughter retorted loudly.  "I don't need a head shrinker 
ta get me ta sleep right!"
	"Now, now Ranko-chan," came the gentle, matronly reply.  "You've had 
this nightmare off and on for a while now.  If it's the same one as 
before, I think you should see someone."
	"Nuh-unh!" Ranko objected.  "I hate head shrinkers!"
	"You've never been to one, Ranko-chan," Nodoka sighed.
	"Yeah, but I still don't like 'em," her daughter grumbled.
	Nodoka laughed gently.
	"Are you feeling awake enough for your exercises?" she asked.
	Ranko smiled and nodded eagerly.
	"Good.  I want you to do 200 cuts before we do anything, okay?" her 
mother asked.
	"Can't I start with battou?" Ranko objected.
	"You know you should always properly warm up before doing any of the 
forms, Ranko-chan."
	"Hai, okaasan."

	Ranko stared ahead serenely as her iaito split the air with a gentle 
hissing noise.  As she finished the set of cuts, she sighed in 
contentment.  Life was normal, and aside from the occasional passes made 
by people at her and Akane, she didn't want them to change - ever.  
Things were too comfortable the way they were.  She didn't want to grow 
up, watch people age or even watch herself age.  Everything was 
wonderfully perfect around her.  The small shrine and the cozy house she 
lived in were beautiful and she loved her mother too much to stand 
thinking of her growing old and passing away.
	The cuts flowed easily into the four ukitsuke forms.  Ranko flowed 
through each ukitsuke and nouto, letting her sword move and shift in the 
dim light of their yard.  The shadow of the small shrine played with the 
light on her sword, making the shining blade look like ripples on the 
surface of a pond.  Each cut was performed with a slow, deliberate 
precision that extended from the fluidity of movement.  Each form moved 
gracefully into the next, in a ballet of sword and wielder. 
	"Your ukitsuke is still slightly off," Nodoka admonished gently.
	Ranko looked to the back door of the house, where her mother stood half 
in the kitchen, and half out.  The only daughter of the Saotomes watched 
as the matriarch of the household quietly walked to her right hand and 
slowly, carefully moved it a hair's breadth downwards.
	"Remember that the tip must not be above your right, or too far below.  
For now, it seems you want to put it along the line of your knuckles.  
It must be slightly lower," Nodoka said quietly.
	Ranko nodded slowly.  She went through the ukitsuke once more, slowly, 
trying to concentrate on the slash it would make.  It didn't feel right.  
The light-brown haired girl grimaced visibly.
	"Ranko, what have I told you about that?"
	Ranko sighed.
	"I'm sorry, okaasan," she replied.
	"Don't be sorry," Nodoka said softly, putting a hand on her daughter's 
shoulder.  "The iai you perform is precious and pure.  When the time 
comes for you to correct yourself, I will tell you what to do - not 
before, not after.  It is important that you realize that, Ranko-chan.  
Do not hurt yourself because of your mistakes.  Learn from them, 
Ranko-chan.  Learn and grow wiser, just as I did when I was a girl."
	Ranko looked up at her mother and smiled.  Nodoka shared that smile and 
together they enjoyed the silence that ensued.  It didn't last very 
long.  Akane burst into the backyard, looking as though she'd run a 
mile.  
	"Ranko, Saotome obasan, you have to come quickly!  Otousan just got a 
postcard from Saotome ojisan!" she panted.  "He's coming here today!"


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