Hi all! ^_^
So as I'm typing away at Hearts of Ice Part 21 with the growing
hope that the montsrous chapter will be done in time for Christmas,
I'm thinking to myself, Wow, it's been nearly 2 1/2 years since I
first started writing this fic. About time for a repost, neh?
There have been revisions - some extensive, some not so.
I like to think that the revisions are for the better, but I'll
leave that up to you. Due to the size of the fic, I'm going
to take a cue from Gary Kleppe's reposts of HAMP and post HoI
in segments every few days.
I would be an ungrateful wretch if I didn't mention how much
I appreciate all the support and feedback I've received for this,
my first public writing endeavor, over the past couple of years.
And I also appreciate your patience in dealing with my writing
speed (or lack thereof). ^_^
This story is dedicated to my totally awesome kid brother (he's
20 now, he hates being called a kid, but I've got nearly 8 years on
him ^_^), Kurt, without whom I would still be living in abysmal
ignorance of Ranma 1/2, and anime and manga in general.
Of course, C&C of any kind is welcome and appreciated. I
can even handle flames, so have at it. ^_^
The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation
and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.
---------------------------
Hearts of Ice
Part 1: Blood Spell
by Krista Perry
---------------------------
Something was wrong.
Ranma could feel it; a twisting, nervous sensation in his
gut, a sixth sense almost. It wasn't the same other-sense that
he used as a martial artist, the sense he'd developed that
forewarned him of a sneak-attack or an opponent's moves during
battle. It was more of a...
Drat! He couldn't put his finger on it.
He glanced at the sky as he ran, his feet not missing a beat
as they instinctively found the narrow length of fence piping
beneath him. Not a cloud in sight. It was bright, dewy morning
in Nerima. The heady scent of cherry blossoms and sizzling
breakfasts filled the spring air.
Ranma frowned, perplexed. Well, at least he wouldn't have
to deal with rain today. He glanced down at his fiancee as she
kept pace with him on the sidewalk in their routine sprint to
school. His frown deepened. Akane wasn't even looking at him,
and as long as he kept his mouth shut, he knew he was relatively
safe from getting the receiving end of a fist fueled by her
violent temper. Still, he couldn't be too careful. The
uncute tomboy was volatile and unpredictable on her best
days.
Even if she did have a sudden urge to beat him to a pulp for
no reason, it was a common enough occurrence that it shouldn't
cause the sick sensation he had in the pit of his stomach. The
only thing that came close to what he was feeling was usually
caused by ingesting Akane's cooking.
Okay, perhaps he was over-reacting. Akane's cooking made
him feel much worse.
Smirking to himself, but wisely keeping silent, he hopped
over a segment of fencing that looked as if it had been smashed
repeatedly with an object that appeared to have the same shape as
his face. The strange feeling surged in his gut, and he
heard an almost audible *click* in his head as he suddenly
comprehended was bothering him.
He didn't realize he'd stopped running until Akane yelled at
him. "Ranma, you dummy, what are you doing? Do you want to make
us even more late than we are already? Don't just stand there,
come on!"
Ranma blinked. "Yo, Akane, have you... I mean, do you
know... uh..." Ranma thought furiously, but knew there was no
way to phrase his question without incurring Akane's wrath. She
was already looking steamed as he continued to stand on the fence
stuttering.
"What *is* it, Ranma?" Akane growled. "I don't want to end
up holding buckets all day, so let's move it."
Ranma sighed inwardly. And here he'd gone the whole morning
without a pummeling. "Hey, look, it's no big deal, I was just
gonna ask you if you'd seen Shampoo around lately."
"WHAT?!!" Akane's fists clenched convulsively at her sides,
and her right arm began to pull back to its launch-ready status.
Ranma held up his hands, his third and fourth fingers
automatically curling into the "go-away-thou-inflicter-of-pain"
position. "Hey, uh... chill, Akane. It's not like I *want* to
see Shampoo or anything. It's just that... Don't you think it's
odd that she hasn't slammed my face into the fence with her bike
the past few mornings? I mean, haven't you noticed that she's
been kinda scarce lately?" He pointed to his facial imprints in
the metal piping behind him.
All of the speed, strength and agility Ranma possessed as a
martial artist had yet to save him from Akane's "Wrath-of-
Woman-Scorned-Fist-Attack." There was a tremendous, yet familiar
*CRACK*, and Ranma saw stars as he flew head first into the
drainage ditch, landing with a *splash*. The change rippled
through him instantly, and a female Ranma spluttered to the
surface rubbing her jaw.
"Whaddja do *THAT* for?!!"
Akane stood fuming. "Of course I noticed, you stupid
pervert! I thought you might be relieved that Shampoo hasn't
been around glomping on to you all this past week, but if you
miss her that much, why don't you go *FIND* her?!" And without
waiting to hear his reply, Akane turned and sprinted off to
school again, leaving an angry, dripping Ranma-chan standing
alone in the drainage ditch.
"Stupid girl," muttered Ranma as she grasped the chain link.
She swung herself up and flipped in a mid-air arc to land on the
top of the fence again. "Stupid uncute tomboy. Did I say I
wanted to find Shampoo? I was just pointing out that she hasn't
been around lately. Maybe she's gone back to China... Naw, my
luck's never *that* good..." Ranma ran along the fence and
rubbed her jaw with one hand, feeling the rising bruise that was
probably already starting to purple.
*It's just that I think Shampoo's up to something,* he
thought. *It's not like her to up and disappear like this, or
leave without saying goodbye...* The sick feeling in his stomach
was still there. If anything, it intensified when he made the
connection with Shampoo's uncharacteristic absence. *She's up to
something, I'm sure of it.*
A few blocks ahead of Ranma, Akane ran, blinking back tears.
*That idiot!* she thought, gritting her teeth. *Of course he
would have to bring up Shampoo. It's been so nice not having
her around hanging on Ranma all of the time, but I guess
he just can't stand the thought of losing one of his *CUTE*
fiancees! And then he has to go rub it in! That womanizing
*JERK!**
A tiny part of her mind whispered to her that she could be
jumping to conclusions, that she'd been feeling strange and edgy
all morning, but she turned on it fiercely. She wasn't jumping
to conclusions! All the facts pointed directly to one result,
and that was that Ranma was an insensitive pervert. Hmph! What
did she care? He and that Chinese bimbo Shampoo belonged
together!
That tiny, whispering part of her mind shriveled and cried
at the thought. But Akane ignored it. And kept running.
--------------------
As a matter of fact, Shampoo *was* in China. But if Ranma
had known what she was doing there, he would have been far from
comforted.
She stood trembling at the entrance of a huge gaping black
cave at the top of a jagged mountain, her body tensed in a ready
stance, her hands clutching her bonbouri. Her body was covered
with purpling bruises and scrapes. There was a bleeding gash on
her right cheek just below her eye. Her mass of violet hair was
a tangled, matted mess.
She hesitated on the edge of the cave. It was so dark
inside that it seemed as though light could not penetrate the
entrance. Shampoo reached into the bodice of her torn, soiled
blouse and pulled out a small, but ancient scroll that hung from
a gold chain around her neck. Carefully, she unrolled it, her
eyes scanning up and down rapidly as she checked her
instructions.
After returning the scroll to its place, she closed her
eyes to steady herself. When her violet eyes opened again, they
were filled with determination.
"*I have come, Ancient One,*" she called out in Mandarin
Chinese. Her light soprano voice had an edge of steel, and it
echoed into the darkness of the cave. "*I have defeated your
demon guardians. I demand that you come and face me!*"
Two gleaming blood-red eyes, each the size of a house,
blinked open in the blackness. The dark scarlet glow from the
eyes illuminated the cave, revealing a hint of scales and teeth.
A low snarl caused the ground to tremble, and Shampoo was
showered with rocks and dirt from the cave ceiling.
Shampoo paled and took a step back, thinking to flee the
cave. Then her brow furrowed in determination, and she held her
ground. She'd come too far to turn back now. "*Face me,
dragon!*" she called out. "*I require something of you.*"
The rumbling snarl turned into a deep, throaty laugh. "*Go
away, girl-child, before I eat you.*"
"*I will not leave, and you will not eat me. I have passed
your guardians. I have found your lair. Now you will give me
what I require.*"
The huge eyes narrowed, and Shampoo gulped softly. *Aiya,*
she thought. *Have I come all this way and done all this work
only to be eaten?*
"*What is it you require?*" The movement of the dragon's
mouth revealed its rows of huge teeth gleaming in the red of the
eyelight, yet Shampoo sighed in relief. According to the scroll,
the dragon's response meant that he would go along with the
ritual. Whether this was because of a magical binding or dragon
whim, she didn't know.
"*I require a small amount of your blood, Ancient One.*"
"*You are willing to pay the price?*"
"*I have fought for the privilege of paying the price,
Ancient One.*"
"*Very well. Extend your arm.*"
Shampoo extended her left arm into the almost tangible
shadows of the cave. The ground shook as the dragon moved it's
massive, coiled body towards her. She stifled a shriek as a
single black claw, twice as tall as she was, came out of the
gloom, it's needle-sharp tip poised over her arm. Before she
could withdraw, the claw came down, the point lancing through her
arm just below the elbow, and retracting just as quickly.
The pain was incredible, worse than she imagined. Blackness
surged on the edges of her vision, but she forced herself to
remain conscious. She could feel her blood running down her arm,
past her hand, and trickling off her fingers in a steady stream.
She could hear her heart pounding, growing louder in her ears.
Looking down, she saw that her blood was being caught in a
crystal basin. The basin was filling rapidly.
"*Enough,*" said the dragon. "*That will do.*" Shampoo
looked at her arm and saw that the bleeding had stopped. She
raised her right hand to her forehead to hold back a wave of
dizziness.
"*You have paid the price. Now take your reward, sorceress,
and go.*" A whirlwind appeared out of nowhere, sweeping around
Shampoo. She never felt her feet leave the ground, but when the
wind dispersed she found herself standing at the bottom of the
mountain facing the valley. In her hand, she clutched a small
crystal vial of black liquid.
Dragon blood.
She looked at it and smiled, the excitement in her eyes a
contrast to her battle-weary, blood-drained body. "Now, Ranma.
Now you see I love you more than Akane love you. Soon Akane gone
for good, and you come to me. Then we married forever."
Shampoo collapsed to the ground in an exhausted, unconscious
heap.
--------------------
Akane and Ranma stood sullenly in the school hall, each
holding a pail of water, each studiously ignoring the other.
They sneezed simultaneously.
Ranma sniffed and rubbed his nose. "Gah. Somebody must be
talking about us."
Akane snorted. "I can't imagine why."
"And what is *that* supposed to mean?"
She glared at him. "I was being sarcastic, you dope. It's
probably the teachers talking about how we were late yet once
again. We'll be lucky if Hinako-sensei doesn't show up with her
5 yen piece in a few minutes." Akane smiled to herself, seeing
Ranma grimace and roll his eyes at the prospect of facing the
hyper-active Hinako-sensei and her plethora of ki-draining
circular objects, but she covered it with a mask of seriousness
when Ranma turned to her.
"You don't think she'd try *that,* do you? Just for being
late? I mean, we're already holding these stupid buckets of
water."
"Oh, I don't know," Akane responded casually. "I've heard
she's been cracking down on even the most minor offenses, like
chewing gum in class, or talking out of turn. I'm sure showing
up to school five minutes late, or ten minutes late in your
case--"
"Hey, I had to find some hot water, no thanks to you--"
"-- will be more than enough to bring Hinako-sensei down on
us both. I wonder what Daddy will do when he sees me all drained
of ki and finds out that it was all your fault."
Ranma paled, knowing from experience how Soun Tendo reacted
to any threat to his beloved daughters. The Demon-head Ki attack
was not something to be dismissed lightly.
*Ah, man, that's all I need.* Ranma stared at his feet
glumly and twisted the pail in his hand making the water surge
and swirl in the bucket. He immediately stopped, letting the
water settle. His luck with water had never been good since the
curse. Water was almost like a sentient thing around him,
actively seeking him out to turn him female at the most
inconvenient moments and make his life miserable. He certainly
didn't need to have an "accident" with his pail in the middle of
the school hall right now. And on top of everything else that
had gone wrong today, he still couldn't shake the feeling that
something really bad was going to happen. Soon. Something a
heck of a lot worse than getting drained by Hinako-sensei or
facing Tendo-san's demon head. Ranma shook his head, trying to
clear it. *Man, why can't I shake this feeling? It's creeping
me out!*
Akane watched Ranma from the corner of her eye, her brows
creasing into a confused frown that didn't quite reach her mouth.
*That's odd,* she thought. He wasn't responding to her jibes the
way he normally did. She liked seeing the all-mighty too-macho
Ranma get flustered and panicky, and normally any mention of her
father's protectiveness was enough to send him into an indignant,
stuttering rage. Instead, he was staring at the floor with a
strange, almost sad look in his eyes.
Her confusion warmed into concern. Was he sick? No, Ranma
never got sick, except for that one time Happosai gave him his
cold, but that was just one time. And besides, aside from the
look on his face, he appeared perfectly healthy. Then what was
wrong? He'd been acting weird all day. Breakfast at the Tendo
household that morning had even passed in relative peace, aside
from the usual wolfing noises Ranma and Genma made while scarfing
down their food. He was strangely subdued, and Akane was
startled to realize that, aside from the incident on the fence,
he hadn't flung any of his usual insults at her. Could it be
that he didn't want to fight with her anymore? No, that
definitely wasn't it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought up
Shampoo, the jerk.
Something was obviously troubling him, though. Perhaps he
felt bad about his mom. Nodoka had come by earlier in the week,
and Ranma and Genma had been forced to do their Ranko/Mr. Panda
routine once again. Ranma always tried to act happy when his
mother was around, but she knew how desperately he wanted to meet
her, be with her -- as a man. As a son. Akane watched him when
he thought no one was looking, and she saw the almost
imperceptible slump of his shoulders, the quiver in his smile,
and the pain that glimmered in his eyes.
When she saw him like that, it made her feel like crying,
she felt so bad for him. She missed her own mother; the grief of
losing her when she was a child still haunted her at times, so
she understood a little of what Ranma was feeling. It must be
torture for Ranma to have his mother *right there,* alive and
loving and longing for her only child, and not even be able to
tell her who he was. His curse condemned him to be a stranger to
her; to be "Ranko Tendo, adopted niece" rather than Ranma
Saotome, son.
Maybe if he talked about it, he might feel better and start
acting like his old self. Akane didn't like seeing him like
this. Not that his old self was any better, but at least she
knew how to deal with him then.
She flushed and lowered her head when she realized a soft
smile was creeping across her face. She swallowed. On the other
hand, if she showed how concerned she was for him, he might get
some funny ideas about her *liking* him, or something equally
stupid. As if she could ever lo... like a stupid perverted jerk
like him.
"Ranma?" She intentionally put an edge in her voice, not
wanting to sound too concerned. "What's wrong with you?"
He didn't lift his eyes. "Nothin'." He had toyed
momentarily with the idea of trying to explain what was bothering
him, but then he heard the anger in Akane's voice, and knew that
any explanation he tried to give would probably earn him a quick
sex change and a new set of bruises, courtesy her bucket of
water. Besides, it didn't even make sense to him, so there was
no way she would understand. She didn't understand things even
when the explanation should have been perfectly obvious. He
thought of Ryoga/P-Chan, one of the better examples of Akane's
blindness, and sighed. "At least nothing *you'd* listen to," he
finished.
Oops. Akane's battle aura flickered on the edges of his
vision. Somehow he'd done it again, and he wasn't even sure what
he'd said this time to make her angry, especially when he'd been
trying so hard to avoid her temper. He turned quickly, jumping
into the air with his pail as the water flew right where he'd
been standing, sloshing to the floor as Ranma flipped and landed
on dry tile. He turned to yell at Akane, but her pail was
already there, slamming against the side of his head, upsetting
his pail and drenching him as he crashed head first into the
floor.
"Ranma, you *idiot!*"
Ranma recovered immediately and flipped up to her feet, just
barely missing another pail attack. She jumped back and stood
dripping, risking a glance at Akane only when she knew she was
out of range.
"Jeeze, Akane, whaddja do *that* for?" Ranma shouted, angry
and baffled at the unprovoked attack. "I didn't do nothin', you
psycho macho chick!"
Akane stood in a battle stance, holding her empty pail. Her
teeth were clenched and her brow was furrowed in fury. Then,
without warning, her battle-aura faded and her eyes shimmered
with unshed tears.
Ranma's mouth opened, and she leaned away from Akane in
panic. "What the... What's wrong?" Ranma's voice rose in pitch.
"You're not gonna cry, are you? Jeeze, whaddi *do?*"
Akane threw her empty pail to the floor with a clang.
"Ranma, you *jerk,* it figures that you're too stupid to know
what an insensitive creep you are! And to think I was *worried*
about you!" With that, Akane turned and, for the second time
that day, she fled, leaving a soaked onna-Ranma standing in the
flooded school hallway staring after her, his mouth still hanging
open in surprise.
*She was... worried? About me?*
Around the corner, Akane leaned against the wall, her chest
heaving with silent sobs. She felt the tears brim and slide down
her cheeks, and put her face in her hands. *Why did I *do*
that?* she thought miserably. *It's not like he really insulted
me or anything. He just said I wouldn't listen, and then I go
and prove his point right there! What's wrong with me today?*
She wiped at her face and tried to get herself under
control. *I've felt edgy all morning. Maybe I've just got a bad
case of nerves.* She sighed, thinking regretfully of Ranma.
*Well,* she thought, trying unsuccessfully to ease her
conscience, *he probably had it coming for *something.** She
headed for the restroom to clean herself up.
--------------------
Shampoo felt the touch of a rough, small hand on her
forehead, and her eyes fluttered open to see Cologne standing
over her. She moaned softly, and looked around, recognizing the
shelter her great-grandmother had built for their stay in China.
Above her, dust motes danced in the orange light streaming from
the setting sun through the window of the tiny thatched hut.
"*Well, great-grandchild,*" the crone whispered softly.
"*It appears you have succeeded. I must admit, I had my doubts
that you would return from the mountain. You are one of very few
who have managed to reach the Ancient One.*"
"Shampoo do anything for Ranma," Shampoo replied in her
broken Japanese. She could speak Mandarin, or even fluent
Japanese if she wanted to. After all, she'd lived in Japan for
almost a whole year now.
However... she found that people, including her great-
grandmother, tended to unconsciously underestimate her when
she played dumb, and Shampoo had a policy of exploiting every
advantage she could get. It was almost funny. Cologne now spoke
Japanese more than Mandarin in an effort to help her become more
fluent. Shampoo knew it was a constant, mild irritation to her
great-grandmother that she never seemed to make any progress.
But Cologne seemed more concerned about molding her into a great
warrior than into a great intellect, and Shampoo was content to
let her great-grandmother and the others believe she wasn't all
that smart. It gave her an unexpected edge.
She smiled weakly as she struggled to a sitting position,
then winced as the effects of her injuries made themselves known.
She blinked wearily and tried to stand up, but was restrained by
Cologne's hand.
"Not just yet, child. Drink this first. It will make you
feel better." Cologne handed Shampoo a steaming cup, which she
took and brought to her lips with unsteady hands. The concoction
was bitter -- most of great-grandmother's potions were -- but she
didn't hesitate, and swallowed it down obediently. She smiled as
she immediately felt her old strength flooding through her limbs.
"Thank you, great-grandmother." Her eyes began scanning the
hut, searching for...
"Here it is, child," said Cologne, pressing the crystal vial
into her hands. "I kept it safe for you while you recovered."
Shampoo looked at the vial. The crystal was cool against
the palms of her hands. "You no take any while I sleep?" she
asked. Dragon blood was possessed of a most powerful magic, but
she needed all of it, every last drop, for what she had planned
for Ranma.
Cologne's ancient wrinkled face soured into an angry scowl.
"What do you take me for, child? I still question the wisdom of
you dabbling with such dark power. Anything bought with a
blood-price is not only dangerous, but often leads to grief."
Shampoo looked at the old woman, askance. "What you mean?
This whole thing your idea in first place. You say this work for
sure."
"Dragon blood ensures the success of any spell," Cologne
said levelly.
"Good! Nothing *else* work. We try everything, and still
Ranma no leave violent pervert-girl, Akane."
Cologne glared at her great-granddaughter. "That's the
point exactly, Shampoo. Just think. Nearly a year ago, you gave
Akane the Kiss of Death. If you had followed through on that,
instead of letting compassion soften your warrior's heart, we
would not be here now, reduced to meddling with dark magics to
snare son-in-law."
Shampoo frowned. "Is not that simple," she said. And it
wasn't. It was true that she had given Akane the Kiss of Death
when she first arrived in Japan, since she stood in the way of
her rightful claim to Ranma. But when it came down to the
death-duel on the grounds of Furinkan High School, she...
couldn't do it. She couldn't kill Akane. Instead, she had used
the Xi Fa Xiang Gao Shiatsu technique to erase all memory of
Ranma from Akane's mind. It didn't last long, though. Akane had
recovered without even receiving the proper cure, her
subconscious feelings for Ranma restoring her memory completely.
It was Shampoo's second failure. First, not being able to
take Ranma as her husband as he was by law, and then letting
Akane live. Dishonored twice over.
Yet... if she had a chance to do it over, she wouldn't have
done it differently. Shampoo had never killed anyone before.
She knew she had it in her to do it, but deep inside her soul, in
a place she didn't like to admit existed, she didn't want to.
For an Amazon, these pangs of... mercy..? were an unforgivable
weakness.
"No can kill Akane," she said, her voice heavy with the
knowledge. "No can kill then, no can kill now. You know this,
great-grandmother. I kill Akane, Ranma get angry and no spell
strong enough to bind Ranma to me. He stubborn man, he fight it
to his death."
Cologne's scowl softened, and she chuckled mildly. "True
enough. Son-in-law is rather... strong-willed, to say the
least."
Shampoo smiled wickedly. "Is part what make him strong
man," she said, her eyes gleaming. Then her smile faded into a
worried frown. "This spell... it no make Ranma slave, yes?
Shampoo want Ranma with free mind." Shampoo wanted Ranma to look
at her the way... the way he looked at Akane all those times when
she was in danger, or when he thought no one was watching him
watch her. That kind of look didn't come from an enslaved mind,
no matter how devout the slave might be. She had done many
things to force Ranma to take her in his arms, whether by
blackmail, bribery, hypnotic mushrooms or other strange means.
But although those moments provided some satisfaction -- most of
it from seeing Akane's jealousy -- she always felt the pain deep
inside her that yearned for Ranma to love her of his own free
will.
"The parameters of the spell are very clear," Cologne
answered, looking at the tiny, ancient scroll that lay on a small
makeshift serving table. "No mind control is involved, unless
you desire it. The spell is designed to alter circumstance in
favor of the caster according to the instructions given. You
must think on this carefully before you begin, or the spell could
have disastrous effects."
Shampoo nodded, pleased with Cologne's affirmation of her
own understanding of the spell, and caressed the vial of dragon
blood in her hands. "No worry, great-grandmother. Shampoo know
exactly what instruction to give."
Cologne nodded thoughtfully, but her expression was grave.
"Then I suppose there is nothing to keep us from continuing.
However..."
Shampoo blinked in surprise. Her great-grandmother's face
was filled with something akin to... apprehension?
What on earth was this? Was her great-grandmother, the
fearless Amazon matriarch, having second thoughts?
"However?" she prompted.
"Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, great-
granddaughter?" Cologne asked. The old woman's ancient gaze
seemed to burn right into Shampoo's soul. "You have trifled
with Son-in-law for a year now, trying to win his heart. Until
this moment, you have not caused him, or those around him, any
lasting harm. If you cast this blood spell, all of that will
change. Permanent harm will be done, and there will be no going
back -- for *either* of us. Casting the blood spell will commit
us irrevocably to our course. We both will be utterly bound by
Amazon law and honor. There will be no mercy, no fun and games,
and no harmless, friendly rivalries afterwards. The blood spell
is the point of no return."
Shampoo met Cologne's gaze steadily. "You tell me this
before. I know this."
"So, I ask you one final time. Are you *absolutely certain*
that you want to cast the blood spell?"
There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. "I certain, great-
grandmother."
Cologne sighed heavily, and in one brief moment, so fleeting
that Shampoo wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, the old Amazon
seemed incredibly weary. But then she straightened, and a grim
smile quirked the edges of her wrinkled lips. With one smooth
movement, she used her staff to snag the scroll off the table by
the gold chain, and dangled it in front of Shampoo's face.
"Shall we begin, then?"
--------------------
Ranma stood in front of the Nekohanten, feeling baffled.
The ramen cafe was closed. Shampoo really was gone, and she'd
left without a word. There was no sign of the old ghoul
either... No, wait. He could see movement in the darkness behind
the windows. Someone was in there. He pressed his face against
the glass and shielded his eyes with his hands to block out the
glare from the setting sun.
It was only Mousse. Ranma watched as the tall myopic
Chinese boy walked through the swinging doors that led to the
kitchen, only to emerge a moment later with a broom and dust pan
and begin methodically sweeping the floor. Ranma squinted,
trying to get a better look. There was something about Mousse,
about the way he was sweeping the floor. Then he caught a
glimpse of his face, and Ranma suddenly knew what was wrong with
him.
Mousse was completely, totally bummed. His whole posture
and attitude practically screamed depression.
Yup. Shampoo was gone, all right. She and the old ghoul
had taken off somewhere and left Mousse behind.
Ranma pounded on the window. "Hey, Mousse!" Mousse looked
up, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of his melancholy.
Ranma kept pounding. "Hey, let me in, I wanna ask you
something."
Mousse's annoyance turned to anger. "Ranma? Is that you?
How dare you come here looking for my darling Shampoo!" He
stormed towards the door, and, although Ranma couldn't see it, he
knew that the arsenal Mousse carried up the voluminous sleeves of
his Chinese robe was getting primed for launch.
He groaned. "Aw man, I'm *not* looking for Shampoo! I just
wanted to ask you where..." Ranma trailed off, as he realized
that was *exactly* what he wanted to ask Mousse. But not for the
reasons that he assumed. "Aw, man..." he muttered, as Mousse
threw open the door and glared at him through lenses that put
Coke bottles to shame.
"Saotome, prepare to die!"
Ranma sighed. *Why is nothing ever easy? Oh well. I gotta
remember to keep him conscious, or he can't answer my questions.*
The battle took longer than usual, but only because Ranma's
heart really wasn't in it. He dodged mostly, allowing Mousse to
wear himself out and inflict most of the usual property damage
with his missing blows, which only served to infuriate him even
more.
After twenty minutes of fighting, or rather of Mousse
fighting and Ranma dodging, the Chinese boy stood panting. He
glared at Ranma, who, he noticed to his chagrin and fury, was
barely winded. "You dishonorable cur! How dare you take this
battle so lightly?" He threw up his sleeves.
"Come on, Mousse," Ranma said, groaning in exasperation and
ducking a bladed chain that flew at his head. "I just wanna know
where Sha... where the old ghoul went."
Ranma thought he'd covered for himself rather well, but
Mousse was blind, not deaf, and he caught the verbal slip.
"Arrghhhh! It's not enough that you have three other fiancees,
you must come searching for my one true love as well?!" he
shouted. "You'll pay for your insolence, you enemy of women!" A
barrage of chains, knives, wires, firecrackers, kitchen utensils,
and other miscellaneous items flew from the dimensionally
deceiving confines of Mousse's sleeves.
Ranma slipped past them with practiced ease. "Hey, I'm not
engaged to no one, duck-boy!" he denied, also with practiced
ease. "None of this mess was my idea!" He wove through the
attack and landed a fierce punch to the jaw, sending Mousse
flying into the front of the Nekohanten, cracking plaster and
concrete. Mousse slumped to the ground, dazed, his arsenal
falling limp from his sleeves, his glasses askew on his face.
Ranma stood at a ready stance, waiting for the Chinese boy to get
up and resume the battle.
Instead, to his amazement, Mousse straightened his glasses
and gave him a piercing look. "What do you mean, you're not
engaged to... Does this mean you're really not here to claim
Shampoo?"
Ranma staggered as if he'd been hit, he was so
flabbergasted. None of his rivals had ever listened to his
protests of innocence before. "Of course not!" he yelled, then
softened his tone, hoping not to stir Mousse's anger again. "I
just had this weird feeling all day that something bad was gonna
happen, that's all, and I think Shampoo might have something to
do with it."
Mousse stood up and dusted himself off. His aggressive
stance had evaporated, but he still eyed Ranma with open
suspicion. "What makes you say that?"
Ranma shrugged. "I dunno, just a feeling."
"Well that's strange, because I've had the same feeling
too."
Ranma's jaw sagged. "Really?" As that piece of information
registered, he slowly closed his mouth and smiled. "Boy, that's
a relief! I thought I must be going nuts or something."
Mousse scowled. "You *are* nuts, Saotome," he said. "But
not about this. Know now that the only reason you're still
standing--" Ranma smirked openly, but Mousse ignored him. "--is
because I think we have a common concern. When Shampoo and
Cologne left, they absolutely refused to let me go with them."
"Hmph. That's never stopped you before. Why didn't you
just follow them?"
"That's none of your concern," Mousse snapped. He certainly
wasn't going to tell Ranma the details of how he ecstatically and
innocently ate the drugged ramen Shampoo had prepared just for
him. He was out cold for a whole day. "The point is, I have no
idea where they went, but they were up to something." He flushed
with a combination of embarrassment and anger. "Actually, when
you pounded on the window, I thought Shampoo'd finally managed to
get that passion spice to work on you."
It was Ranma's turn to scowl. "No way, man. I would rather
eat Akane's cooking... uh, well... er, maybe not, but I would
rather eat anything else than trust something Shampoo tried to
feed me." He clapped a hand on Mousse's shoulder. "Believe me,
Mousse, if I had my way, Shampoo would be all yours."
Mousse pushed Ranma's hand from his shoulder, and turned
away so that his rival wouldn't see the look on his face. He
suppressed the urge to attack Saotome with everything he had,
knowing that Ranma would just dodge and probably knock him into
the wall again. Deep down, he knew that Ranma wasn't trying to
be cruel. How could Ranma possibly know how much it hurt to be
spurned by the woman he loved, while she pined after another man,
a man who never even gave her a second thought? Ranma didn't
even know the *meaning* of the word love. It was so infuriating,
the way the girls flocked around him, when he hadn't done a thing
to deserve it. He simply *existed.* Even Akane, who vehemently
denied any feelings for her fiance, was obviously in love with
him.
He, on the other hand, loved Shampoo with every fiber of his
being. And yet she continually spurned him, throwing herself at
a reluctant Ranma every chance she got because of some stupid
Amazon marriage law.
On top of that, now there was the unsettled feeling he
shared with Ranma, and the fear that Shampoo was somehow
connected with it all.
"So, uh, what are we gonna do about it?" asked Ranma,
breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was more bothered than he
cared to admit, knowing that Shampoo and Cologne snuck off
somewhere without letting anyone know what they were up to.
As if on cue, the postman walked by. "Hello, Mousse," he
said, handing the boy a stack of mail. "How's business?"
"Oh, well, we're closed at the moment. Shampoo and Cologne
are... out of town, and I can't run the place by myself."
"Ah." The postman smiled as he turned to go. "That
explains the postcard then. See you later."
"Postcard?" exclaimed Mousse and Ranma simultaneously as the
postman walked off. They looked at the stack of mail. Mousse
began flipping through it, ignoring the bills and catalogues for
food and restaurant supplies. "Aha!" He pulled out a postcard
that had a picture of a Chinese mountain landscape.
Ranma leaned over his shoulder, and frowned when he saw that
it was written in Chinese. "What does it say?"
"It's addressed to me!" Mousse was so excited, he was
nearly jumping up and down. "And it's from my darling Shampoo!
They're in China!"
"China? What are they doing there? What does it say?"
"'Dear Mousse,'" he translated, "'Sorry about the sleeping
powder in the ramen--'"
"Sleeping powder, eh?" Ranma interrupted, grinning.
"Shut up, Saotome," growled Mousse, before continuing.
"'Great-grandmother and I are on a training mission in
China, where she is teaching me some special Amazon techniques as
part of my training to become tribe matriarch. These techniques
are for women only, so we couldn't have you following us. We
will be back on Tuesday, so have the restaurant ready to open by
then.'" Mousse stopped reading.
"That's it?" asked Ranma.
"Yes, of course," said Mousse, looking at the bottom of the
card where Shampoo wrote 'Give my love to Ranma.' He hoped the
sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for Saotome to
hear.
Ranma looked puzzled. "Well, if they're just on a training
mission, I guess we're worrying about nothing, eh? I mean, how
much trouble can they cause us in China?"
Mousse sighed. "Not much. It's what they bring back from
China that we should worry about."
"Oh." Ranma grimaced. Most of the strange ingredients
Cologne used in her mystical concoctions came from China. "Well,
they're not going to be back for another four days, so I guess we
don't have to worry about it until then."
Mousse nodded numbly. "I guess. Look, Ranma, I've got to
get back to work. I have to get the restaurant ready to open by
next Tuesday." With that, he walked back into the Nekohanten and
closed the door behind him, leaving Ranma on the outside staring
at the door.
Ranma looked at the door, surprised at Mousse's sudden
departure. The thought of Akane running from him twice that same
day came to his mind, and he sighed. *Why do I get the feeling
that everyone is running away from me?* he thought sadly.
--------------------
Shampoo stood in the center of the hut, the scroll in one
hand, the vial of dragon blood in the other. Cologne watched in
silence from a dark corner as Shampoo unstopped the vial and
began to pour the black fluid on the ground, forming a perfectly
symmetrical circle around her. If the spell was to work, it had
to be followed to exactness. Shampoo had paid the blood-price.
She was the only one who could use the Ancient One's gift. Were
it not so, Cologne might have been tempted to keep a portion of
the dragon blood for herself because of the incredible magic it
possessed, guaranteeing the success of any spell.
The dragon blood trickled in an even stream from the vial to
the ground, resting lightly on the surface, gleaming blackly in
the candlelight, forming an exact circle around Shampoo. As the
last few drops fell from the mouth of the vial, completing the
circle, the blood flared to life, surrounding the girl in a cone
of magical dark red aura.
Shampoo winced in fear, and hesitated. *No!* thought
Cologne, not daring to speak aloud. *Concentrate, girl! Read
the scroll!*
Shampoo steadied herself and looked at the scroll. In a
strong voice, she began chanting in an ancient Chinese dialect.
Cologne wilted with relief. That was a close one.
As the words rolled off her tongue, Shampoo fixed firmly in
her mind her desires for the spell. The time was fast
approaching, the aura building in strength, swirling around her
with increasing fury. The roar was deafening. She could see
great-grandmother through the raging dark aura, looking at her
with wide eyes.
Now! Shampoo threw her head back and called out her desire,
the noise from the ferocious magic that surrounded her drowning
out the sound of her voice.
The pillar of red aura lit with a blinding flash, shot
through the roof of the tiny hut leaving a clean, smoldering
hole, and was gone into the night sky.
Shampoo blinked in the sudden darkness. She realized she
was shaking. "I... I do it?" she asked.
Cologne looked at her in amazement. She nodded.
Shampoo smiled. "Ranma..." she whispered. And collapsed to
the floor in a boneless heap.
--------------------
End of Part One
The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation
and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.
--------------------------------
Hearts of Ice
Part 2: The Kami Plane
by Krista Perry
--------------------------------
Akane knelt at the dinner table, holding a contented P-Chan
in her lap, gently stroking the fine black hairs on his head as
she watched the last traces of sunset fade from the dark western
sky. The first evening stars were shining faintly. She smiled
as Kasumi brought in the meal and began serving food to each
plate. Soun and Genma were already seated, their mouths open and
watering. Nabiki wandered in a moment later, and casually raised
an eyebrow at her younger sister.
"Honestly, Akane," she said, teasing, "I can't believe how
much you spoil that pig of yours. Are you going to be feeding
him from the table again?"
Akane frowned. "Now don't *you* start picking on P-Chan,"
she said mildly. "It's bad enough that Ranma always seems to be
trying to beat him up or something. Besides, he likes people-
food. Don't you, P-Chan?"
P-Chan gazed at Akane in adoration.
"Speaking of Ranma," said Kasumi, setting the last dish on
the table and kneeling in her regular spot, "has anyone seen him
this evening? It's not like him to miss dinner."
*At least, not when *you're* cooking,* thought Nabiki wryly.
She cast a glance at Akane and noticed the scowl that suddenly
creased her younger sister's face, indicating that the same
thought had crossed her mind.
Genma eyed Ranma's plate greedily. "Hmm. It's too bad he's
not here. I guess I'll have to eat his dinner. Can't let all
that food go to waste, you know."
Kasumi gave Genma a disapproving look that consisted of a
slight frown, which would have cowed him away from Ranma's plate
had he been watching. As it was, he was so absorbed in stuffing
Ranma's food in his mouth that he missed it completely.
Akane didn't miss the look. "Well, I say he deserves it,"
she said. "Serves him right for being late, the jerk." P-Chan
sighed happily and nuzzled Akane's hand affectionately with his
snout, making her smile. "See? Even P-Chan agrees with me."
"Aw, what would that stupid pig know?" said Ranma as he
walked into the dining area, glaring at P-Chan, who returned the
nastiness of his gaze with interest.
"Where have you been?" asked Akane angrily. "Do you know
how late it is?"
"Why?" chided Nabiki. "Were you worried about him?"
Akane flushed pink. "Worried?! About that stupid pervert?
No way!"
"Oh yeah?" said Ranma defensively. Why was it that her
insults always seemed to sting so much? It never bothered him
coming from anybody else. "Well, it's none of your business
where I went anyway, you uncute tomboy. And anyway, I'm not
*that* late. I'm still in time for dinner."
"That's debatable," said Nabiki with a slight smile.
Ranma finally noticed that Genma was cleaning his plate off
with remarkable speed. Shouting in anger, he leapt over the
table and elbowed his father's head into the floor in one fluid
motion. "Get away from my food, Pop."
Genma sat up, his face red with fury (caused mostly by his
inability to finish Ranma's food), picked his son up by the front
of his Chinese shirt, and tossed him out the patio door. "Show
some respect for your father," he shouted, as Ranma landed with
uncanny accuracy in the middle of the pond.
Kasumi sighed, excused herself from the table, and went into
the kitchen to heat up a kettle of water.
"So," said Nabiki, turning away from the familiar scene that
was unfolding outside to address her sister, "what did you two
fight about today?"
Ranma leapt out of the pond, red hair dripping, her wet,
baggy clothes plastered to her womanly figure, and growled. "All
right, Pop! You asked for it!" She charged.
Akane scowled and looked at her food, not meeting Nabiki's
gaze. "Oh, the usual. The pervert said he missed having Shampoo
glomp on him since she hasn't been around all week."
*Translation:* thought Nabiki. *Ranma opened his big mouth
and wondered out loud why Shampoo hadn't attacked him recently.
Akane misunderstood, as usual, and pounded him to a pulp.*
Genma paused in stuffing his face to meet Ranma's attack,
but was too slow. His female son grabbed him by the back of his
gi and sent his father flying to his furry fate.
Nabiki heard the splash. "Great," she said, groaning around
a mouthful of food. "Nothing like the smell of wet panda fur
while you're trying to eat."
Akane snorted. "I thought you'd be used to it by now."
Nabiki looked out the patio door where a voluptuous red-head
and a panda with a pair of glasses dangling from its ear were
grappling in a mid-air battle over the lawn, and sighed. "Some
things you *never* get used to, sis."
The battle ended abruptly when the panda left an opening,
allowing Ranma to land a powerful kick to his father's face. The
kick sent him on an unconscious flight into the wall that
surrounded the house.
Ranma landed lightly on her feet and made a show of dusting
off her hands. "Stupid old man," he muttered. "What is he
thinking, stealing my food?"
Kasumi came out of the kitchen and noticed that the battle
was over. "Akane," she asked, smiling. "Would you take this out
to Ranma and Uncle Saotome, please?"
Akane stiffened, ready to protest, but something in Kasumi's
smile prevented her, and she slumped. "Okay, Kasumi," she said,
putting down P-Chan and standing to take the kettle. She went
outside, P-Chan trotting after her.
Ranma stood dripping on the grass, looking at Akane and the
kettle with a strange look on her face; a combination of
expectation and apprehension. Akane sighed. At least he was
waiting to change back into a guy before taking off his shirt to
wring it out. She walked over and upended half the contents of
the kettle over his head, then turned to walk over to the
unconscious panda.
"Um... Akane?" Ranma's voice was hesitant. Akane stopped,
surprised, and turned to look at him. He was looking at his feet
and twisting his fingers nervously.
"What is it, Ranma?" She tried to sound impatient, but for
some reason, it didn't come out that way.
He didn't raise his eyes. "Uh, well... I just wanted to say
that, you know... I'm sorry about earlier."
Akane froze, not quite believing what she had heard. P-Chan
grunted angrily at her feet. "What?" she asked.
He looked up and put his hand behind his head. He couldn't
seem to meet her eyes. "You know... What I said about
Shampoo... Well, it didn't come out the way I meant. I'm
sorry if I made you angry."
Akane blinked, disbelieving. He actually sounded sincere.
Either that or... "Do you have a fever, Ranma?"
Ranma's arms dropped to his sides and he stared at her.
"Hey!" he said indignantly. "I'm *trying* to apologize here!
This ain't easy, you know!"
Akane flushed and lowered her gaze, a dozen conflicting
emotions flooding her. This couldn't be happening! She didn't
*want* Ranma to apologize. She wanted him to be his usual jerky
self. She wanted to be angry at him because... because being
angry at him was easier than... easier than...
"Hey Akane, you okay?" She looked up to see concern on
Ranma's face, which melted into self-recrimination. "Jeeze, I
can't even apologize right," he said with disgust. "Well fine.
I'm sorry I even bothered." His shoulders slumped, and he turned
to walk into the house.
"Ranma, wait," said Akane. Her throat thickened as he
looked over his shoulder at her, and she swallowed. "I'm sorry
too. I shouldn't... shouldn't have gotten angry. And I
shouldn't have thrown that water on you at school. I don't know
why I did that. I guess I've kind of been on edge today."
Ranma turned to face her, his expression shifting to an
amazed half-smile, the kind of smile that reached his blue eyes,
accenting how handsome he was, and made all the girls flock after
him like love-sick sheep... The thought made Akane angry but she
pushed it down, feeling a little affected by the smile herself.
She could feel herself blushing.
Ranma saw her flush, and felt the pink rise to his own
cheeks as it suddenly struck him how cute she looked. The smart-
alec remark he was about to say -- something along the lines of
how it wasn't surprising she lost her temper, being a macho
tomboy and all -- died on his lips.
"Uh, h-hey, it's okay," he said, stuttering. "I mean, I
kinda wondered about the stuff in the hallway, 'cause usually it
takes a lot more to set you off..." He trailed off as Akane's
gaze hardened, and his hands flew up in a placating gesture.
"That's not what I meant!" he said quickly. "I meant that, uh, I
understood, 'cause I've been feeling kind of weird myself today.
So it's okay." He smiled sheepishly, his hands still in the air
hoping to ward off Akane's anger.
But her expression had already softened from anger to
curiosity. "Hmm, that's odd," she said softly, thinking of her
own edgy feelings. "I wonder..." Her eyes widened as she
suddenly looked past him.
"Wonder what?" asked Ranma.
"What in the world is that?" she asked, pointing behind him.
Ranma turned. There was a small dark red glow rising out of
the western sky where the sun had disappeared a few minutes
earlier. "What the..." The weird feeling that had been plaguing
him all day suddenly peaked, and Ranma felt his heart pound.
Without thinking, he reached and grabbed Akane's arm, almost
causing her to drop the kettle.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she protested, but he wasn't
looking at her. His eyes were focused on the strange glow. He
began pulling her toward the house. "Hey!" she protested again,
getting angry as she tried to pull out of his grip.
"Come on, Akane," he said. There was a worried undercurrent
to his voice that made Akane pause. "I think we should go in the
house."
"Why?" she asked, now feeling worried herself. "What do you
think it is?"
"I don't know, but it's headed this way."
"What?" She looked at the glow again. Sure enough, it was
rising in the sky, streaking directly toward them like a locked-
on missile -- a missile swirling with dark, unnatural energy.
The unnerving sight attracted the attention of the rest of the
Tendo family. Kasumi, Nabiki and Soun stared at it from the
patio doors.
"It might not be anything to worry about," Soun said, trying
to sound cheerful and failing. "We don't know what it is. It
could be a natural phenomenon."
Nabiki snorted. "Right. A natural phenomenon that's coming
straight for us. Considering everything else that's happened to
this family, I *don't* think that's a possibility."
Akane's heart rose in her throat in apprehension. "It's not
really coming for *us,* is it?" She stared at it fearfully.
"Ranma, what is it?"
"I don't know," he said again, growling in frustration as he
pulled her into the house, "but it don't look friendly, so come
on!"
P-Chan squealed anxiously at Akane's feet, and she bent down
and scooped him up in her free arm. "Ranma," she said,
remembering, "your father!"
Ranma looked over to the unconscious panda. "Damn." He
let go of Akane's arm, took the kettle from her, and pushed her
towards the house. "Get inside, Akane," he said, then ran to
his father's prone form and dumped the rest of the hot water on
him. He was still out cold, so Ranma bent and slung him over
his shoulder, and ran back to the house.
"Here, take him," he said, shoving his father at a white-
faced Soun, then turned to run back outside.
"Ranma!" yelled Akane, "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, stupid?" he called back, his battle
aura blazing, lighting up the yard as he formed a bright ball of
ki energy in his hands. "I'm gonna stop that thing!"
Akane bristled instinctively. "Who are you calling stupid,
you--" But Ranma wasn't listening.
In the space of less than a minute, the swirling missile of
malevolent energy had traversed the space from the horizon and
was now almost halfway to them. Ranma spread his hands in front
of him and pointed his palms in the direction of the strange
glowing object. "*Mouko Takabishya!!!*" A bright blaze of ki-
power exploded from Ranma's hands and was sent hurling through
the atmosphere towards the red glow. It impacted with a
thunderous roar--
-- and dissipated harmlessly.
"What the..!" Ranma stared in disbelief.
"It didn't even slow it down," he heard Nabiki mutter
somewhere behind him.
Ranma gritted his teeth in determination. "All right," he
shouted. "This time for sure!" There was no way he was going to
let that thing reach Akane... or any of the others, for that
matter. He reached deep inside himself and pulled all the
confidence and ki power he could muster from the depths of his
soul. This *had* to work; this blast was going to leave him
totally drained. He could feel the surface of his skin start to
sizzle with the power build up. Inside the house, the Tendos
shielded their eyes from the intense brightness of Ranma's aura.
"MOUKO TAKABISHYA!!!" All the light and energy surrounding
Ranma left him in a great roaring burst, and he gasped at the
hollow, dark sensation that was left in its wake. *Whoa! Maybe I
overdid it,* he thought as he swayed weakly and collapsed to his
knees. *But this has *got* to work!*
The missile-shaped mass of dark aura flattened as Ranma's ki
slammed into it with tremendous force. There was a moment of
complete silence, then the mass shattered into hundreds of red
glowing pieces flying all different directions. "YES!" shouted
Ranma. Or at least he wanted to shout, but all he managed was a
tired, hoarse whisper.
A moment later, his jubilation turned to horror as all the
glowing pieces coalesced together into the swirling missile shape
once again, and resumed it's collision trajectory. "No," he
cried soundlessly. "No, no, this can't be happening."
He felt strong hands reach under each of his arms and haul
him to his feet. Genma, who had regained consciousness in time
to see his son release his final ki blast, picked him up and
carried him into the house in spite of his feeble protests.
Once inside, he stood unsteadily on his own feet and joined
the rest of the Tendo family as they stared in silence at the
swiftly approaching streak of blood-red energy. It was almost
upon them. There was nowhere they could run fast enough to
escape, and they knew it. It descended in a steep arc towards
their house.
Akane stood beside Ranma, her eyes wide with fear.
"Somehow," she said in a small voice, "I get the feeling that
just being on the other side of this wall isn't going to help us
very much."
Kasumi put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my," she said weakly.
"I think you did something to it, though," Nabiki said,
looking at Ranma, who was shaking from exhaustion. "It seems...
weaker somehow. It's not as big as it was."
Akane's hands twitched nervously at her sides, when suddenly
she felt the tips of Ranma's fingers touch hers. She almost
jerked away, but instead, she froze as she felt his hand
tentatively envelop hers in a comforting grip. She almost
stopped breathing. *Ranma..?* Then she gulped. *His hand is so
big!* she thought, giving it a grateful squeeze and wondering how
she could think of such a thing when their doom was rocketing
towards them.
*Her hand is so tiny!* he thought, a drop of sweat forming
on his cheek as he wondered how he could think of such a thing
when their doom was rocketing towards them. He was surprised to
find that the hollowness inside him left by his ki blast filled
up a little when he took her hand, steadying him and giving him
strength. *Wow, I never knew she could do that,* he thought,
looking down at her, his eyes wide.
She must have felt it too, because she turned her head and
met his gaze, her brown eyes strangely calm. "Ranma..." she
whispered...
... and then the violent storm of magic burst through the
roof of the house.
The blood-spell paused, almost like a sentient being in
contemplation for a couple of moments, while the people in the
room stared at it in terror. It shifted in shape, stretching and
widening like an amoeba. Then, without warning, it moved to
completely engulf Ranma and Akane.
To Akane's surprise, it wasn't painful. Quite the opposite,
really, for she suddenly felt numb all over. Ranma, on the other
hand, was writhing in pain, and she could see some of the red
glow seeping into his skin. "Ranma!" she screamed, and was
surprised when no sound came out of her mouth. The numbness was
creeping deeper into her body. She looked down at her hand,
still clutched in Ranma's, and saw to her horror that it was
becoming transparent. She could hear her father calling her name
through the roar of the magic cyclone.
Ranma thought he was going to die. The pain was unbearable,
as if every cell in his body was being invaded by a malevolent
virus. Tears of agony streamed from his clenched eyes, but he
fought against the pressing blackness of unconsciousness with all
his will, holding tight to Akane's hand... Her hand! He
couldn't feel it any more. His eyes flew open and he saw Akane,
fading like a ghost at dawn, her face a white mask of terror, her
hands reaching out for him, her mouth silently screaming his
name.
"Akane!" Desperately, he reached out to her, but his hands
passed right through her, and then she was gone. As if she had
never been.
The blood-spell disappeared silently.
Ranma collapsed to his knees, shaking, his hands still
reaching out. "Akane..." He felt the oblivion of
unconsciousness crashing over him like a wave, but he didn't
care. She was gone. He hadn't been able to save her, and she
was gone...
Nabiki stood, her eyes wide in shock as Ranma slumped in a
crumpled heap to the floor. She felt surprised to be alive,
especially since she had expected the thing to incinerate them or
something. Instead, it had done something really weird to Ranma
and had stolen Akane. She was pretty sure this was all Ranma's
fault. Stuff like this never happened before he and his dad
showed up.
She looked over at her father and older sister. Soun was
sobbing for Akane, and Kasumi was staring at Ranma, her face pale
and drawn. Genma was also looking at his son, appearing at a
loss at what to do.
Nabiki looked at Ranma, hesitant to approach him. She had
seen how the red aura had seeped into his body. He might be
possessed or hypnotized or something. She waited for him to jump
up with glowing evil eyes and attack them, but moments passed,
and Ranma didn't move.
She walked towards him slowly, then knelt down next to his
prone form. Taking him by the shoulder, she gently turned him
over onto his back. Hmm. It didn't look like he would be waking
up any time soon. His skin was an unhealthy gray color, and,
taking his limp hand in her own, she saw that his fingernails
were tinged blue. Matching the fingernails on her own shaking
hands.
*Oh hell, I'm in shock,* Nabiki realized.
She turned to Kasumi. The mother figure, the one who always
knew how to handle any crisis, no matter how bizzare. She almost
smiled as she saw her older sister gain physical and mental
control of herself so that she could take control of the
situation. "We need some medical attention here, oneechan," she
told her in a surprisingly steady voice.
Kasumi nodded. "I'll call Doctor Tofu," she replied, and
walked over to the phone.
--------------------
White. A vast expanse of white. It was the first thing she
was aware of after the feeling of nothingness that encompassed
her. *Am I dead?* she thought. Then sensation slowly returned
to her body, and with it came a fierce, biting cold.
Akane shivered convulsively and looked down at herself. She
was solid. No longer transparent, no longer numb. She was flesh
and blood, wearing her usual school uniform dress... and standing
up to her knees in heavy, wet snow. Snow that was getting deeper
as the blizzard she was standing in continued to send stinging
sheets of icy flakes earthward. Already, she could feel the snow
and ice caking to her hair and clothes. She turned and looked
around in amazement, but couldn't see more than a few feet in any
direction because of the storm.
"Where am I?" she yelled, more to make sure that she actually
could than to get an answer. She remembered trying to call
Ranma's name and not being able to utter a sound as he faded
from her sight... or rather as she faded from his. She knew she
had been transported someplace... but where? Siberia? The North
Pole?
"Well," she said out loud. Her voice provided strange
comfort, even though the sound of it was swallowed by the wind.
"If I'm not d-dead now, I s-soon w-will be if I d-don't get out
of t-this s-storm." Her teeth chattered together uncontrollably.
Not knowing what else to do, she tucked her hands under her arms
in a vain attempt to keep them warm, and started trudging
straight ahead, hoping that whatever had deposited her here had
at least pointed her in the right direction to get help. She
snorted to herself. "Not l-likely," she muttered. But she
wasn't about to give up. Not without a fight.
After stumbling through deep drifts of snow for what seemed
like an eternity, Akane finally admitted to herself that she was
in big trouble. A different kind of terrifying numbness had
crept back into her skin, and her face felt like a frozen slab.
She felt that if she stubbed her foot against a rock that it
would probably break and fall off like a piece of shattering ice.
A story from her American Literature class came unbidden to her
mind. The story was called "To Build A Fire," by Jack London.
She couldn't remember the details, but it was about some foolish
guy who went hiking in the Yukon without sufficient preparation
and froze to death before he could gather enough materials to
build a fire. It had creeped her out, the way death had come so
subtly -- and so quickly -- shutting down his body until he
couldn't even hold the match in his fingers to strike the flame.
He had died with the match in his hand.
*Oh, well *that's* a great thing to think about at a time
like this,* she thought wryly, forcing her legs through the snow
one at a time. She had stopped feeling them a while ago, and she
strongly suspected that she was suffering from frostbite over
most of her body. She ached with exhaustion, and numbing despair
started to seep into her mind, but she shook it off forcibly.
*No *way*! I'm *not* giving up! I'm not, I'm NOT I'M NOT I'M--*
Her body had different ideas. She fell face first into the snow.
Her first thought was how amazingly warm it seemed. Maybe
it wouldn't be so bad if she lay there for a while. At least
until she warmed up a little more. Then she could go on a bit
further.
"Well, I'm almost impressed! She made it further than any
of the others. What do you think, is she worth keeping?"
"I would think so. She's a strong one, for a mortal, not to
mention quite attractive. She'll make a fine servant for the
mistress.
Akane heard voices right above her. *I'm hallucinating,*
she thought giddily. Then she felt her frozen body lifted gently
out of the snow. *Oh, I've been rescued. Even better!* she
thought, just before she was smothered by a warm wave of sleep.
She awoke, not having any idea of how much time had passed,
and found herself looking at a ceiling that appeared to be made
out of crystal. Light danced through and across its surface,
refracting into rainbow colors that shimmered on dazzling white
walls. She blinked. "What... where..?"
"Ah, you're awake," said a stern voice. "Good, good."
Akane turned her head and was startled to find herself staring
into the face of a strange little man who was standing over her,
scowling. He looked as if he had been carved from ice. His face
was all angles, and his skin and hair were a bluish white color.
His eyes were the color of winter thunderheads.
"Who are you?" she demanded, getting to her feet abruptly.
She found herself standing on a soft white futon in the middle of
a small, sparsely decorated room. The last thing she remembered,
she had been freezing to death... She looked down at herself.
She was still wearing her school uniform, and she appeared to be
in perfect condition. "What is going on here? Where am I?"
"My name is Kazuo," answered the man loftily. "You have
been transported to the realm of our mistress, and I am here to train
you in your duties as a servant of her household."
"Huh?" Akane blinked, and felt herself getting angry.
"What are you *talking* about? I'm not anybody's servant. And where,
exactly, is *here*?"
Kazuo sneered. "Arrogant mortal, you cannot refuse. You
are trapped in the Kami Plane, and as such you will serve the
mistress for eternity."
Akane stared. *Arrogant *mortal?!* *Kami* Plane? Oh no,
what mess have I landed in *this* time?* She looked at the
strange ice-man who, although shorter, was doing an amazing job
of looking down his nose at her. He didn't look like the type
who would readily yield the information she needed to find her
way out of this place. "Who is this 'mistress' you keep talking
about?" she asked.
"Our mistress is Yuki-onna."
A tight feeling of apprehension began building in her chest.
*But-- but that's not *possible!** "The Snow Woman?" she asked.
"But she's just a fairy tale... isn't she?" Then she looked
closely at the little ice-man who called himself Kazuo, and
swallowed hard. And if she was in the Kami Plane... She had
heard tales of Yuki-onna when she was a child, of how she was a
malevolent spirit who delighted in catching men unawares and
freezing them to death. She suppressed a shudder. She was
supposed to spend the rest of eternity as a servant to an evil
spirit?
"And what if I don't want to be a servant for Yuki-onna?"
she said defensively.
The man raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't have a
choice."
Akane returned the look stonily. "Oh yeah?" The bluish
fire of Akane's battle aura began to flicker around her body.
"We'll see about that!" She had to get out of here, she had to
find a way to get back home.
The little man's eyes went wide as Akane flared and crouched
into a battle stance. "Ahh, now hold on, there's no need for
that," he said, his haughty demeanor slipping into nervousness as
he dropped into a defensive posture.
"Are you going to show me how to get out of here and get
back home?"
"Well, no..."
"Then fight me, or get out of my way." Akane shifted in her
stance and prepared to attack.
"Kazuo doesn't mean that he *won't* show you how to leave,"
said a woman's voice. "He's saying that he *can't.*" Swiftly,
and not letting down her guard, Akane looked up and past Kazuo to
see a tall woman standing in the doorway.
The woman's face was inhumanly white, yet beautiful; her
figure slender and gracefully feminine in flowing frost blue
robes that matched her eyes exactly. Long, gleaming white hair
that seemed to shimmer with all the colors of the spectrum swept
back from her face and fell in waves to her ankles.
Kazuo relaxed out of his defensive posture and bowed deeply.
"Mistress, allow me to introduce Tendo Akane. Tendo Akane,
Mistress Yuki-onna."
Akane was speechless. Still, she didn't let down her guard,
even when the Snow Woman smiled.
"Welcome to my household, Tendo Akane. I fear that Kazuo
has failed to make my intentions clear. For the moment, you are
a guest, not a prisoner."
Akane didn't miss the words 'for the moment.' She suddenly
found her voice. "If I'm not a prisoner," she asked boldly,
"then why won't you let me go home?"
"It is not I who binds you here," answered the Snow Woman
gently, "but the spell which brought you to this realm."
"Spell?" *So *that's* what it was.* Akane felt her heart
sink. "Isn't there any way to break it? So I can go home?"
Yuki-onna closed her eyes and inclined her head slightly.
"I can feel the taint of dragon blood about you," she said after
a moment, "and such powerful magic is not easily removed."
"Not easily..." Akane felt a spark of hope kindle within
her chest. "But not impossible?"
Yuki-onna nodded slightly. "I would discuss this with you.
Will you join me for tea?"
Akane felt herself at a loss. Everything was happening so
quickly. This certainly wasn't the evil, heartless Snow Woman of
the tales she'd been told as a child. She suddenly realized she
was still standing in an attack posture as she faced her
surprisingly gracious hostess, and felt color rise to her cheeks
in embarrassment. She relaxed and bowed. "I - I would be
honored," she replied.
--------------------
The tea was cold.
*Like *that* should be a surprise,* thought Akane, as she
gazed into her cup. Everything in Yuki-onna's household was
cold, though not uncomfortably so, and Akane was surprised that
it didn't seem to bother her at all. Still, she had been looking
forward to a nice, *hot* cup of tea.
"The spell that brought you here..." said the Snow Woman,
sipping her tea delicately. "You should know that it nearly
failed."
Akane looked up from her tea at the beautiful white
apparition kneeling across from her, surprised. "What?"
"Yes. I'm not sure if you were meant to be transported
somewhere specific within the Kami Plane, but for some reason the
spell was weaker than it should have been, and you were nearly
lost in between. I sensed the magic, and pulled you to safety in
my domain."
*It was weakened,* Akane thought sadly. *Ranma's ki blast
*almost* worked.* Then she realized what Yuki-onna had said.
"Wait a minute," she said, getting angry. "You pulled me to
*safety?* When I came out of the... the spell, I was in the
middle of a blizzard, and I nearly froze to death!"
"You were safe." Yuki-onna met Akane's gaze levelly. "I
placed you in the blizzard as a test of your physical and
spiritual strength. You did quite well. But you were never in
any real danger."
"Well," snapped Akane, "it would have been nice to know that
at the time!"
"Do you know who cast this spell on you?" asked the Snow
Woman.
The question startled Akane out of her anger. "Uh, no,
actually. I really haven't had a chance to think about it."
"Whomever it was must be a powerful warrior and sorcerer.
Dragon blood, especially this old, is not easy to come by."
"Warrior and sorcerer?" Akane grimaced, and started
counting off on her fingers. "Well, let's see, then it could
be... Happosai, Cologne and/or Shampoo... um, Herb...
Pantsuo... who else? I know I'm missing someone..."
Yuki-onna's eyes widened in surprise. "So many? How is it
that you have all these enemies?"
She sighed. "Well, most of them aren't really *my* enemies.
They're Ranma's enemies. The spell caught him too..." Akane
trailed off, remembering Ranma, writhing in agony as the red aura
seeped into his skin, the look of anguish on his face as he
reached out to her, his hands passing through her insubstantial
body... What had happened to him? Was he all right? She looked
at her fingers, remembering the feel of his huge warm hand
covering hers, and felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked them
back, surprised at herself.
Her tears did not escape notice. "And who is Ranma?" asked
the Snow Woman softly.
"He's my... my fiance."
Yuki-onna's frost-blue eyes clouded. "Fiance?" she asked, a
distinct chill creeping into her voice. "And you love him, yes?"
Akane missed the tone of the question completely as she
instinctively bristled at the words. "What?! Me, love that
stupid pervert?" Then Ranma's awkward, but sincere apology
suddenly surfaced in her mind, and her anger faltered. "I - I...
no, I mean... It was all our parents' idea!" she exclaimed
uncertainly.
Yuki-onna gazed at her coolly. "You seem confused. Do you
love him or no?"
Akane gazed into her tea miserably. "I- I don't know."
A half-smile crept onto the woman's cold white face. "Then
let me give you some advice, child. Men," her voice filled with
derision, "are not worth the grief. Forget about him."
Akane looked up, blinking her wet eyes. "W-what?"
"Men are unfaithful to the core of their souls. If you put
your trust in them, it is inevitable that they will betray you."
Her piercing blue gaze made Akane shiver. "Have you not found
this to be so?"
Akane looked down at her hands as she thought of Ranma and
his 'other fiancees.' "Y-yes," she whispered.
The Snow Woman smiled, satisfied. "I have a proposal for
you, Tendo Akane. As I mentioned, you passed the test of the
storm remarkably well... Better than any mortal before you ever
has. You are possessed of great physical and spiritual strength.
With the proper training, your service would be of great use to
me."
Akane looked up, her eyes worried, but determined. "Look,
um, I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't want to stay
here. You said that you might be able to break this spell and
send me home?"
The Snow Woman sighed, her breath sending an icy breeze
through the room. "I will be honest with you, Tendo Akane. The
spell, even though weakened, is still very powerful. It will
take me some time and study and a great deal of hard work before
I can understand it enough to remove its effects from you."
Akane felt the bottom falling out of her world. "Time?" she
asked. She couldn't keep her voice from shaking. "How much
time?"
"Considering that the spell was supposed to hold you here
for eternity, not very long in comparison."
"How long?"
Yuki-onna's normal icy gaze warmed with a sad compassion for
her mortal guest. "Judging by the strength of the spell...
About seven years."
Akane went numb with shock. *Seven years?! In seven years
I'll be twenty-four years old! Who knows what could happen at
home without me in seven years?* Ranma's face came unbidden to
her mind, and scenes flashed into her mind of him wearing a
wedding tuxedo, standing next to... Ukyo... or Shampoo... or...
no, maybe not Kodachi. Not even that pervert Ranma would be
*that* sick.
She shook her head, trying to clear the images from her
mind. But there was no avoiding it. The chances of Ranma still
being there... being her fiance... after seven years were
practically nil.
*Why am I thinking about Ranma?* she cried silently. *It's
not like I could... or that he likes...*
"You couldn't..." Akane looked at Yuki-onna, tears brimming
in her eyes once again. "You couldn't get me home any sooner
than that?"
Yuki-onna shook her head. "There are many other spirits,
gods and demons who dwell in the Kami Plane who might be able to
do it faster. But not many of them will be as kindly disposed
towards you as I am." The white woman smiled sadly. "I must
confess, one of the reasons I rescued you from the oblivion of
between was because I sensed in you a kindred spirit. We are
alike in many ways, you and I." She reached over and touched
Akane's hand with cool fingers. "Stay with me for a while. I am
in need of a body guard, for reasons that will soon become
apparent. I know of your martial arts abilities; they served you
well during my test. And during the time you serve me, I will be
able to decipher a way to break the spell that binds you to this
realm."
Akane could think of no alternative. Yuki-onna was her only
hope. But seven years..! "I... I'll stay." she said softly, and
tried to ignore the despair that settled into her heart.
The Snow Woman smiled.
--------------------
End of Part Two