Author's Note: A while back I posted a fanfic by the name "A War Fought
in Silence".  At the time it was a simple slice of life piece about
Kasumi, and the unusual circumstances of her life.  At the time I did
not consider continuing at all... it was a one shot, so to speak.
However, after re-reading it, I found it would make a good prologue to a
series fic.  I'm trying to actually continue stuff that I started as a
series... but inspiration keeps striking in the entirely wrong places.
Unfortunately, I can't ignore it... so this is becoming a series.  I'll
be posting the prologue soon after this again... so keep an eye out if
you don't remember or never read it in the first place. Thank you.

PM Productions Presents
A Phillip Masters Fanfic
A War Fought in Silence
Chapter One: Dark Visions

"Hello Darkness, my old friend.  I've come to talk with you again.
Because a vision, softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping.
And the vision, that was planted in my brain, still remains... within
the sound of silence."

     Kasumi removed her hand from the base of her neck and turned to the
new occupant of the kitchen.  "What was that, Ranma?" she asked after
making sure to smile extra large.  The young man always seemed to need
comforting in one way or another.  He was the front line man in this
personal war.  She sometimes imagined herself picking shrapnel out of
his skin, then sewing up the bloody flesh... just like in her medical
books.        
     "Kasumi?" 
     She focused once more on Ranma.  "I'm sorry... what was that again?      
     For a moment Ranma simply stared at her, then he repeated his
former query, "Could you make some tea or something, Kasumi?  School was
pretty normal... and I'm beat to death."              Kasumi put a hand
to her mouth as she noticed the pig-tailed martial artist was favoring
his right leg an aweful lot.  "Ara... are you okay?"        
     Ranma, of course, being the strong willed person that he was,
simply waved his hand and grined.  "I'll be fine, Kasumi... if I don't
die of thirst."  He smiled and walked out toward the living room.        
     Kasumi quickly turned around and began preparing tea for her
fortunate soldier.  He was lucky enough to make back from another day on
the battlefield, the least she could do was make his down time as
comfortable as possible. She just wished he didn't have to awaken every
day to the thought of being killed, or maimed in some horrid way that
she was loath to even consider.        
     Her thoughts had so occupied her, that she brought her hand down on
hot metal of the kettle without a glove.  She shot her hand back and
sucked in a sharp breath of air.  A curse tried to fight its way to her
lips, but she braced against it, shutting her eyes so tightly that tears
were forcefully squeezed from them.  She ran over to the freezer and
fished out a few icecubes, then held them in her burned palm.
After a few moments, the pain gave way to a light tingle.  Moments after
that, a sweet numbness set it... like a quick shot of morphine. Her eyes
opened and she looked down at the quickly melting ice.  She tensed her
fingers a few times, then pulled a hankerchief from her apron and
dressed the wound.  It would blister, and it would hurt... but it was
nothing she hadn't experienced before.        
     Kasumi discovered Ranma sprawled out on the couch when she finally
finished making the tea.  She set down the tray on the table next to him
and smiled.  "Here you go, Ranma."      
     He opened his eyes and looked over at her curiously for a moment.
Then, his face registered recognition, and he smiled in return.
"Thanks, Kasumi," he said, then sat up to position himself better for
drinking.  His face grew even brighter as he noticed she had included
some cookies in the deal.        
     Kasumi stood up, her task complete.  The fighter was satiated and
nourished.  He would continue on to battle another day... though it
pained her to think it.
     As it was still almost an hour before dinner had to be started,
Kasumi figured she would make sure the laundry was drying properly
outside.  She slid open the rear door and stepped onto the back porch.
The gentle breeze flipped her hair around lightly, and the cool
temperature made it soothing to her tormented neck.  The sun was making
its descent, and dusk would soon come, promising the peaceful calm of
the night.  Unless some miscellaneous prince decided Akane was once
again the center of the known universe.  
     Kasumi made her way to the clothes line, and before she arrived she
noticed something was amiss.  Across Akane's sun dress there was a small
splattering of mud.  Next to that, her own apron had been struck as
well.  It had taken her four hours to remove a stain from that apron,
and someone had carelessly gone and soiled it.  The sharp, stabbing
assaulted her lower neck, and her hand instinctively went to rubbing it
slowly.  Wincing, and narrowing her eyes, she panned her gaze across the
line, attempting to spot a clue as to who the culprit was.  
     At first, nothing seemed out of place, and nothing had been dropped
in the area.  Even footprints were mysteriously absent from the moist
ground below.  Then, it struck her.  The laundry was slightly different
this time around then usual.  Ranma had nervously asked her to wash his
rather more unmentionable unmentionables.  It seems he had found it
necessary to become a convincing female for the sake of thwarting
Ryouga, who was attempting to win Akane over.  
     While Ranma still couldn't bring himself to don panties, he had
figured it only proper that a bra be worn.  It was the only real bra he
had, and it was only of the sensible cotton variety.  Of course, it was
missing from the line... and, of course, there was only one person whom
a finger could be pointed at.  Grandfather Happosai would have to be
taught the meaning of privacy... once and for all.
     Kasumi smiled once more as she pulled her hand from her now dully
aching neck.  Pulling the dirty clothes from the line, she set about
preparing them to be re-cleaned.  It wouldn't do to have her younger
sister upset that she couldn't wear what she knew was Ranma's favorite
dress.  
     Later that evening, the smell of dinner wafted teasingly through
the household, causing most accupants to begin salivating at the mouth.
Foremost amongst the droolers was Mr. Saotome... Ranma's father, and
what could be called the "True Enemy".  Kasumi never liked the man who
turned into an animal to escape his problems, generally dumping them
onto his innocent son.  Normally she would have never thought about
harming another human being, but for the first time in her life she
could see herself... wishing a person dead.
     Whenever she heard of another play by Genma to put his son deeper
behind enemy lines, she simply hoped something horrible would happen to
him.  Maybe, something poisonous would accidently make its way into his
food one night.  Or, perhaps, he would by chance manage to suffocate
himself with his own pillow.  Any of a million things could occur, and
Ranma would be rid of his life's greatest threat.  
     However, Kasumi wouldn't want to seem untoward when anyone was
concerned, so she simply smiled and accepted what was.  Even if the pain
grew so great that she had to remove herself from Genma's presence at
times under the pretense of fixing tea, or a meal.  At times she felt
like dunking her head into the furo, the hot water was both soothing and
invigorating at the same time.  There was also something about the way
she looked in the mirror afterward, her hair plastered to her face,
rivulets of water streaming from her forhead downward. It would flow
freely, dripping from her nose and chin, down to her waiting hands,
where it would turn red and sticky....
     "Kasumi!!"
     Startled, Kasumi leapt into the air.  She whirled on whoever had
disturbed her thoughts, and found Ranma looking rather shocked at her
reaction.  Quickly, she smiled, to calm his concerns.
     "Are you okay, Kasumi?  I don't think I've ever seen you jump
before."  Ranma was looking at her so worridly it almost broke her heart
on the spot.  He was so caring and gentle inside, why couldn't Akane
just come to terms with that so they could live happily ever after?
     Kasumi brushed the hair from her face, and replied, "I'm just fine
Ranma, thank you for asking.  I was just thinking, and you spooked me.
You're just so quiet when you move, it's amazing sometime."  She paused
for a moment as she noticed the young man's pride swell slightly.  "Did
you want something?"
     He looked thoughtful for a moment, then it came to him.  "Oh, yeah!
I was going to ask why Akane wasn't around.  She was at school, and she
didn't mention going anywhere afterward... I just figured she was coming
home with a friend or something.  Do you know anything?"  
     Ranma was right, and Kasumi hadn't even noticed.  "I don't know,
Ranma... it could be that she's at a friend's house.  She didn't say
anything to me this morning."
     He nodded, and began to walk off, then stopped and turned back.
"Thanks, Kasumi."
     She smiled in return as usual.  "Don't mention it, Ranma.  Dinner
should be ready soon... maybe you could search for her afterward?"
     Ranma nodded and went back to sulking his way toward the staircase.
Without Akane he just wasn't whole, she hoped he came to terms with that
soon.
END Chapter One A
Damn... four thirty in the morning... I hate it when time constricts me
to writing a shorter piece then I originally planned.  So, I'm making
this A of Chapter One... B will be done soon... I'll be working on it
tomorrow as I have a day off (thank God!).  Comments appreciated...
though I know it's not too horribly clear *exactly* what is going on
yet.  
Thanks for reading,
PMasters (2-2-99)

"I'm only holding back the rain.  So many raindrops, so many pains.  I
want to find my train someday.  As seasons go past the station." - Tokyo
Babylon OVA 1
/ E-mail: PhilMasters@webtv.net /
"...has anyone ever used something alive for a coat of arms?" - The
Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea (Mishima Yukio, 1965) / 
"You see, what you call a cat, we use as armor." - Rune (El-Hazard,
1994)