As mentioned in the part 5a, I split this fic into two parts due to 
unforseen conflicts. Since I'm reposting this fic for Murmur the fallen, 
any responses to this fic should be sent to him at Harijubal@aol.com, 
though I'll be forwarding any messages recieved by my account to him, so 
it doesn't matter (though I'd prefer you contact Murmur first ^_-).

Here's the part 5b. Enjoy,

Dark Alpha <DarkAlpha@aol.com>

-----------------------------

Contiuned from part 5a:


	"Did you hear something, Saotome?" asked Soun, trying to find his 
head.
	"You mean the pounding drum beat in my head that is going to make it 
explode?" replied Genma, trying to find the big band that was playing and 
kill them in a horrible fashion.
	"No . . . sounded more like your son . . . err . . . daughter . . . 
err," said Soun, sounding more incoherent by the moment.
	"Oh."
	"Have you seen my head, Miss?" asked Soun of the pretty young female 
bartender in the tight suit.
	"Say, Tendo, want to stay here some more?"
	"What?  But . . . but I've got classes . . . and my daughters are 
expecting me," mumbled Soun, still peering around the bar drunkenly.
	"I'll buy," offered Genma in a very pained voice.
	"Alright then.  Miss, another round to everyone who's still awake, 
on my friend," said Soun quite loudly.  He was answered by the other 
still conscious patrons by either cheers or a thrown bottle for the 
headache he caused.  "And an extra drink of his choice for the person who 
finds my head!"
	"Oh, god," mumbled Genma, his head in his shaking hands.
	"Your head is on you neck, Tendo-san," said the bartender, pointing 
at his still attached head.
	"Oh.  Thank you.  Want a drink?"
	"It's ok."
	"Then I'll have it," said Genma, in great despair.

*			*			*

	"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" yelled Akane, shaking Yuri like a cat 
worries a mouse.
	"Ack . . . whoa, whoa, whoa, S-S-S-STOP!" yelled Yuri, his head 
vibrating at a rapid pace.
	"TELL ME!"
	"Cool it, I think that you're going to shake his head off," Nabiki 
said, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder.  It was quite a trying job 
to be the sole voice of reason in this mad house.
	"It's not as if he's using it!" 
	"I think that that I'm going sick up," gurgled Yuri wetly.
	"Not on the floor, not on the floor!" yelled Kasumi, popping out of 
. . . somewhere, waving her arms frantically.   
	"AAA!" they yelled in complete unison, their hands making the sign 
of the fox.  They then dropped into more normal, though extremely 
perplexed, stances when Kasumi disappeared as mysteriously as she 
appeared.
	"Hey," said Yuri, looking around.  "Where'd she go?"
	"I . . . I don't know,"
	"Weird," they all said in unison once more.  The quiet of the 
aftermath of yet another example of Kasumi-Weirdness did not last as 
Akane remembered what had transpired before, dragging the other two out 
of their slightly dazed state kicking and screaming, figuratively 
speaking.
	"So, are you going to tell me or not?" asked Akane in a mildly 
hostile manner.
	"Look, if you had just stayed quiet and listened for a few seconds, 
I would have told you anyway, you know," replied Yuri hotly.  "I don't 
know what your problem is, but maybe you should see someone."
"Fine, fine, alright.  So tell me, already."
	"It's a letter of challenge."
	"Oh.  Is that all?"
	"IS THAT . . . yes, that's all," said Yuri.  He was very puzzled by 
Akane's odd attitude.  Is this what he had to look forward to?  A 
lifetime of being a complete and utter bitch?  Well, no, he was being 
unfair . . . maybe it was just that time of the . . . no, that's . . . 
you're not a guy, remember that.  You're Saotome Yuri, and you're a girl.  
Just because you have a boy's body, and you're not what people would call 
feminine doesn't make you a boy.  You're Yuri . . . you're . . . 
	"Ranma?" asked Akane, waving her hand in front of Yuri's face, 
sounding quite worried.  "You all right?"
	"No . . . it's this damn challenge," replied Yuri, trying to sound 
hale and hearty but failing quite miserably at it.  "I mean, sure, it 
would be a nice change to beat on someone other than Kuno . . . but this 
just carries with it so much baggage.  And you can imagine whose baggage 
this is."
	"Your dad," said Nabiki, acting once more in her self-appointed job 
as "stater of the obvious", though she left out her own father's 
culpability in this.  If Ranma didn't want to mention it, why should she?  
It was a rare moment of connection between the two.
	"Gee, you think?" asked Yuri sarcastically.  Nabiki scowled at him 
for a brief instant, that moment of connection broken, before composing 
herself.  Oh he'll pay for that little remark.  Maybe some trouble with 
the pipes . . . or some really embarrassing photos that'll just happen to 
be on the school bulletin board.  Or maybe just selling some dates for 
him.  Make some money and get Akane to hit him.  Yes . . . 
	"Can I see that letter?" asked Akane, holding out her hand.
	"Huh?" Yuri said absently.  He then focused on Akane and, while 
handing her the letter, said, "Sure."  He answered, not even realizing 
the Pandora's box he had just handed.  Nabiki laughed silently at him.
	"Thanks."  Akane straightened out the wrinkles on the paper and 
started to read.

	To the students of Anything-Goes Martial Arts,

	For a generation, the hatred between our two schools has festered.  
Finally, the heads of Clan Yamazaki have decided that now was the time 
for the Naraku No Ma Ryu to take its vengeance for the crimes that your 
school has done to us.  Prepare yourself, for, by the time you receive 
this letter, a scion of Clan Yamazaki, one Yamazaki Ken, shall come to 
destroy your school, your memory, and your honor.

	Yours truly, Clan Yamazaki.

	"You know . . . they didn't challenge you personally.  They 
challenged our entire school," Akane said slowly.
	"Uh, yeah.  But, you know, I don't think that it would take two of 
us to beat him," Yuri said, sounding quite nervous as he understood the 
direction that Akane was taking the conversation.
	"You're right," Akane said simply.  She dropped the letter onto the 
table, and started walking out of the living room.
	"I am?" Yuri said incredulously.
	"Uh-huh.  That's why I'm going to be the one to beat him," she 
replied, as she walked up the stairs towards her room.
	"You're going to what?" Yuri yelled, shocked.
	"I'm the one that's going to answer the challenge for both our 
schools," Akane said, with a very quiet and dignified confidence.
	"I don't believe this," Yuri muttered.
	"Oh, Saotome, you are so stupid that I want to hit you," Nabiki 
said.  She turned on the television, and started to vegetate.  "Now, 
children, work it amongst yourselves."

*			*			*

	Akane stared at Yuri, determined to win this battle.  Every word 
that she said an attack.  The tone, the range, the emotion that she 
imbued her voice, all these would determine the effectiveness of her 
attack.  And her attacks would attack not his body but his emotions.  
That is if he had any emotions besides hunger and pure arrogance, the 
idiot.
	"This is as much my battle as yours, Ranma," she told him, her voice 
as firm as steel, but also as soft as velvet.  Show him where you stand, 
but don't rile.  Nabiki makes it look so easy.  "I . . ." Don't whine, 
don't show weakness.  "I have as much a stake in this as you do.  
Anything-Goes is my school, too."
	"I know that," Yuri said, his voice trailing off.  He sounded 
uncertain, unused to her using reason and talk to get her way.  Perhaps 
it wasn't such a bad thing for his impression of her to be that of one 
that uses violence first and always.  
Advantage: Akane, she thought to herself.  But Ranma can still go to the 
Fathers (not that he would, his fool pride, but he might if he loses and 
knows it), so that is something that must be dealt with.  Later, though.  
After convincing him that her answering the challenge is the right thing.
		  
"But listen, you know that I'm the better fighter.  And besides, you're 
just a girl," he said, his tone at once conciliatory and condescending, 
though his face had on a very odd expression indeed.
Don't get angry, Akane.  Don't.  That's just what he wants of you.  Get 
angry and lose the focus that you have right now.  Disregard the fact 
that he is acting like a complete sexist MORON!
"You're right, Ranma," she said, her tone sweetness and honey, a great 
effort, since she was trying not to grind her teeth into powder.  "You 
are the . . . better fighter.  But how can I improve myself if I don't 
fight, really fight, with someone?"  Logic, would that work?  No, 
probably not.  But perhaps the preening peacock would be distracted 
enough by the . . . compliment that he agrees to this.
"Yeah, I am the best, aren't I.  It's good to see that you finally admit 
that, Akane," he said, smiling that infuriating smirk of his, and raking 
his hair.  How that gesture maddened her.  But calm is what was needed to 
guide him, manipulate him.  "Still don't mean that I want you to fight, 
though."
"Oh?  That's . . . very . . ." Sexist, macho, pig-headed, stupid, 
annoying, condescending . . . "Sweet of you, Ranma."
"Besides, your dad will kill me if I let someone 'Hurt his precious 
girl,'" He said, his voice lyrically mocking.  The kind of voice that one 
swings one's arms about while spinning in a circle.  A tone to annoy and 
nothing but.
"I see.  So you're worried about my safety, Ranma?"  Can you swallow your 
pride enough to do it, she asked herself.  And . . . what if you like 
doing it too much?  No, ridiculous.  It has to be done.  It's the only 
way . . . 
"You know, Ranma.  Since you're such a great martial artist, maybe you 
should train me for this fight," she said, all the while wrapping her 
arms around him, pressing herself against him.  Thank god that they were 
alone in her room.  If anyone saw, especially his or her parent . . . not 
a pleasant thought.  "Not spar, really.  But train."
"Uh . . ." Yuri said, sounding very uncomfortable.  He was starting to 
sweat quite a bit, as his face turned beet-reed.
He was quite embarrassed.  Not the reaction that she was hoping for 
(really.  Perhaps he wasn't such a pervert after all) but it would do 
even better.  She leaned her face, her mouth, much closer to Yuri's than 
is decently done.  "That sounds good, doesn't it?  Us, together . . ." 
The final touch, the coupe de grace, as it were.  "Training," she said 
softly, enunciating very carefully, the words that were carried by her 
hot breath wafting onto Yuri's lips.
"AAA!" Yuri yelled, leaping out of Akane's arms.  He ran to the door in 
the space of his very fast heartbeat and when there, said in a very 
anxious and quite frightened voice, said, "L-listen, I got to . . . uh, 
do stuff.  Away, far away from here.  For a long time.  And stuff.  Ok?  
Bye."
"Oh, Ranma?" Akane said, her voice low and with a touch of huskiness.  
"About that challenge?"
"What?  Oh, yeah, that.  Sure, Akane.  Anything you wa- err, sure, you do 
that, ok?"  Yuri rushed out of Akane's room faster than you can say, 
"Dogs of Hell."
"Ok," she said after him.  She walked carefully to the doorframe and 
looked outside.  Nope, he was nowhere to be seen.  She carefully closed 
the door, went to her bed, pressed her face against the pillow, and 
laughed herself silly.

*			*			*

	Yuri sat in the bath, staring at the ceiling.  So quiet, so still.  
The only sound was the occasional plink of a droplet falling from the 
ceiling and onto the bath.  The steam of the bath drifted slowly off of 
the bath and floated towards the ceiling, joining the already thick cloud 
of steam gathered there.  Yuri sighed softly, barely stirring the steam 
from their journey, and sank even deeper into the relaxing water.   He 
stared at the ceiling, and let his muscles relax.   This was truly 
heaven.  Now, why was he in here again?  Something to do with a . . . 
fight?  And . . . Akane?  No . . . it wasn't a fight with Akane, but 
something . . . Then he remembered.  And Yuri really, truly wished that 
he hadn't.
	"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" he yelled at the top of his lungs, 
horrified, as he stood up straight as an arrow in the bath, splashing 
quite a bit out onto the tiled floor.  He then felt a massive cramp all 
over, and sat back down into the bath.  He had just experienced the 
unpleasant sensation of going from loose muscles to muscles as tense as 
very high tension cord things all in the space of a millisecond.  "Ow," 
he whimpered, tears of pain springing out of his eyes.
	He shook his head from side to side, in a desperate attempt to 
dispel the kinks in his neck.  After a few tries, he stopped, sighing yet 
again.  While running his thumbs over the wrinkled tips of his fingers, 
he meditated on the Akane situation a bit more calmly.
	Obviously, Akane has a crush on me . . . Ranma, he thought.  And, 
naturally, who wouldn't be attracted to Ranma?  I'm just surprised that 
it took so long.  He looked down at the water surface and saw his 
reflection.  For a brief instant the image of his other self, his true 
face, the face that he had been born with before this . . . really stupid 
curse, appeared, only to disappear with the subtle waves of the bath 
water.  
	You are one gorgeous piece of manly manhood, Ranma, Yuri thought, 
lost in pure egotism, forgetting the whole girl attracted to girl that 
looks like a boy problem for a much too brief moment.  He then remembered 
the 'original' Ranma, and felt slightly sick.  
	Yuri dunked his head under the water, shut his eyes tight, and, with 
deeply held breath, pondered.
	Obviously Akane was in love with him.  Though she would probably 
never admit it, she has a major case of Yuri.  Not that any sane girl 
wouldn't . . . but it felt weird to have someone that said that they 
hated him so much, and so often finally admit that she was a human being 
too, with an obvious case of infatuation.  
	And, normally, having a girl fall in love with him wouldn't bother 
him too much (he had gotten over that weird feeling quite a while ago, 
once the letters and the hot looks from the fairer half of the campus got 
boring), if it weren't for the fact that they lived together.  In fact, 
he rather enjoyed the compliment.  However they were, technically, 
affianced and what with the two idiotic old men hounding them into making 
it go from a technicality to a reality, took the situation away from the 
realm of flattery and into the weird land of commitment. 
	Well, there would have been a commitment, if it weren't for the fact 
that Yuri was a girl and he didn't (to the best of his knowledge, but 
really, he thought to himself in some of his desperate moments of sheer 
hopelessness, perhaps the reason that he got such a kick out of seeing 
girls throw themselves at him was because he did go that way and just 
didn't know it.) go that way.  No to mention the fact that he had lied to 
Akane.  Despite all the insults that fly between them regularly, and the 
fact that Akane seemed to view him as an acceptable whipping boy for the 
entire male half of humanity, Yuri truly did have some sort of positive 
feelings towards Akane, and was occasionally depressed that Akane didn't 
reciprocate his feelings of . . . friendship . . . affection in a totally 
non-sexual manner . . . the positive and completely platonic feelings 
that he had towards her.  Whatever it was.  
	Yuri got out of the water, and breathed in the wet, hot air with a 
deep sigh, releasing any of the remaining tension that he may have had.  
Really, in the final analysis, it wasn't as if it mattered any.  Sure 
Akane had a crush on him (and what sane girl wouldn't?), and sure they 
were only one step away from . . . wife and . . . wife, but it wasn't as 
if it were serious in any manner.  And it was probably a passing phase 
for Akane, like that whole Tofu thing.  
	Besides, his father had hired a few people (what kind of people and 
how they could find him, he really didn't want to think about) to find 
Ranma and drag him into this engagement.  And while he may like the Tendo 
sisters, it wasn't as if he wanted to marry any of them.  Though he would 
pity Ranma if he ended up with Akane, though it was more than he deserved 
the bastard.
	So, all in all, no worries at all.
	Well, except for one . . . 
	"AKANE'S GOING TO DO WHAT?" he yelled, finally remembering the last 
bit.

*			*			*

	"Did you hear that, Saotome?" asked Soun, trying very hard not to 
giggle.  "Wee, my head is buzzing like a bee."
	"That's nice," moaned Genma.  He was quite certain that his liver 
would never be the same after tonight.  "And no, I didn't."
	"Sounded like your daughter . . . yelling about . . ." Soun trailed 
off, his buzz gone as he tried to figure out the words.  It was 
important, he knew.  It was . . . they were on the tip of his brain  . . 
. what did that girl yell out?  Something about . . . "AKANE!" Soun 
yelled, leaping to his feet, stone cold sober.
	"Shut up!  Some of us here are trying to die, you know!" complained 
another patron, who immediately went back to sleep.
	"What is it, Tendo?" asked Genma, staring at his friend muzzily.
	"Akane's in trouble!  Akane's in trouble!" gibbered Soun, a bit 
hysterically.  "Well, not for long."
	"What the . . . hey!" yelled Genma surprise, as his friend grabbed 
his arm and started to sprint out of the bar towards the dojo with a 
speed that would have put an Olympiad to shame.
	"Got to get home, got to get home," muttered Soun under his breath.  
He was running so fast that Genma was lifted into the air, the only 
things that kept him from going into low earth orbit being Soun's 
intensely strong grip on his arm, and gravity.  And gravity didn't have 
too much to do with it, much to its chagrin.
	"Oh, my, I'm going to sick up," muttered Genma, looking green and 
pale all at the same time.
	"AKANE!" yelled Soun, as he jumped over the wall and into his house.  
"Akane!  Don't worry, Daddy's here!"  He screeched to a halt, and stood 
in the doorway, yelling his daughter's name and trying to sound consoling 
but actually sounding quite mad.
	"Oh, my, father, why are you yelling so?" asked Kasumi as she stuck 
her head out of the kitchen.
	"AKA-Oh, hello, Kasumi," Soun said, going from hysterical to calm in 
a very scary small amount of time.  "Why was I yelling?  No reason."
	"That's . . . sigh, well, no matter.  Just stop doing that, all 
right, Father?  We've had calls."  Kasumi then went back into the 
kitchen, and hoped that the aspirin would start kicking in.  Sometimes 
sanity just didn't seem to be worth it.
	"Now, where was I?" pondered Soun.
	"I'm too drunk to deal with this.  Good night," muttered Genma, just 
before he fell down in a heap, fast asleep and dead to the world.
	"Ah, that's right," said Soun, remembering, as he slammed a fist 
into his open palm in the universal gesture of understanding.  "AKANE!"
	"FATHER!" yelled Kasumi from the kitchen, sounding, for once, quite 
vexed.
	"TETSUO!"
	"KANEDA!"
	"TETSUO!"
	"KANEDA!"
	"TETSUO!"
	"This is fun, but it's starting to hurt something awful," commented 
Nabiki, as she rubbed her irritated throat.
	"My, who knew that scream therapy worked so well?" asked Akane, 
rhetorically, smiling as she did.  She turned to her slack-jawed father, 
and said, "What did you want, Dad?"
	"Uh . . . I just had an odd feeling, is all," he replied, looking 
quite embarrassed.  It would take too long to explain, and there was the 
fact that he was quite drunk when he made the decision to come screaming 
in here, even if the execution was done with complete sobriety.
	"Oh.  Is this why you've been waking up the dead with your yelling?  
Because of a feeling?" she said, trying, quite successfully too, to 
resist the urge to heap piles of contempt into the load of skepticism 
that was her tone.
	"Uh . . . yes."  
	"Oh, for the love of god," Akane muttered.  "Hey, Nabiki, maybe you 
can deal with Dad."
	"No way, no how, am I going to be saddled with him.  If he's acting 
like this at his age, can you imagine what he'll be like when he's 
older?" Nabiki said, as she walked back upstairs, followed by her sister.
	"It won't be my problem," Akane stated firmly.
	"Oh?  Well, if you're thinking of saddling me with him, you can 
think again, sister."
	"Kasumi?" Akane asked.
	"Kasumi." Nabiki agreed.
	"Like hell!" yelled Kasumi from the kitchen.  Please, she thought, 
let the madness end.  Perhaps if she spent some time in her room, shut 
away from the world, rearranging her stuff rabbits.  The sheer 
inconsequence of it just relaxed her utterly.  (On a parallel thought 
track, she pondered about her rabbit.  Sometimes it was almost like it 
talked to her.)  (On a track skewing from the last, she wondered, quite 
briefly, about her own sanity if she thought stuffed rabbits talked.  It 
then bent and twisted into a pondering on the apparently negligent affect 
magic had on the world at large.)
	"My . . . girls," Soun said, tears running down his face like a 
mighty river, his heart quite broken, if only for a little while.
	And Genma continued to snore loudly on the floor.

*			*			*

	"Ok," said Akane.  "Attack me."
	It was the next morning, quite early in fact.  The false dawn had 
barely lit the sky before Akane had dragged Yuri out of his bed.  
	"Come on, Ranma, attack me," urged Akane, making 'come at me' type 
of gestures.  
	Yuri didn't even try to stifle his yawn.  He stretched his limbs and 
back, and enjoyed that painful/pleasant sensation of his joints 
crackling.  He then stared balefully at Akane.  "I ain't about to attack 
anybody this early in the day.  So screw you, and your goddamned 
politics."
	"Huh?" 
	"Oh . . . sorry, I had a really weird dream."  Yes, it was quite 
weird.  Though the details have already mostly faded away that one phrase 
stuck in his mind.  'So screw you, and your goddamned politics.'  Who had 
said that, and why?  But more importantly, where was breakfast?  "Where's 
breakfast?"
	"If you're that worried about food," Akane said in an exasperated 
tone, as she came out of her defense stance.  "As soon as we're finished 
sparring, I'll make you some breakfast."
	"Yeah, like that's a good incentive," he muttered.  Yuri stared at 
Akane, suddenly feeling quite awkward.  He wasn't quite sure how to bring 
up Akane's behavior last night.  While he was trying to figure out how to 
bring up the subject with some tact (i.e. not act like an insensitive 
jerk).  Akane, finally fed up with just standing there, decided to take 
the initiative by upper-cutting Yuri on the jaw.       		
	"Oh, look at the pretty birdies," Yuri muttered, pointing at the 
sky.
	"Ah, darn it," Akane said, as she looked down at the dazed and 
confused boy.  She started lightly jabbing at him in the ribs with her 
foot.  	"Get up, lazybones.  There isn't time for this."              
	"Tweet, tweet goes the little birdies.  See how they gracefully 
float on the glistening virgin rays of the dawn sun?"  Yuri was in Tex 
Avery land, which, coincidentally enough, was also filled with a painful 
amount of mallets and crazed women.  "Oh, Wolfy; oh, Wolfy . . ."
	"Get up!"  She decided that simple yelling was not enough.  Because 
of her Confucian upbringing (among others), she went to look for a cup of 
water.
	"Ah!  Cold!" Yuri yelled as she sat straight up.  She glared 
balefully at Akane.  "Do you have to do that all the time?"
	"I wouldn't do it if you would just pay some attention, you big 
jerk.  Now get up and attack."  Akane hauled Yuri to her feet.  "I need 
the practice."
	"Geeze, Akane.  You know that I don't attack girls," she said in a 
slightly whiney voice.  While Yuri would attack a girl with little to no 
impunity, she thought, the Ranma that she made herself into wouldn't.  
She wondered briefly what the real Ranma's views on sexual equality were.
	"Well . . . don't think of it as 'attacking'.  Think of it as . . . 
mmm . . . sparring.  You can spar with me, right?" she said once again 
trying reason.  It probably wouldn't work, but still . . .  "After all, 
you probably have enough self-control-" Ppht, right.  "-to not go all out 
just sparring, right?"
	"You have seen me spar with Pop, right?" asked Yuri, looking askance 
at Akane.
	"Well, that's because you don't like him all that much.  But you 
like me, don't you, Ranma?"  She again flittered her eyes, while making 
gagging noises in her mind.  Damn that sexist jerk for making her do 
this.
	"Uh."  Whoops, back into the land of confusion and that odd feeling 
of not knowing which side of the road one drove on for Yuri.  "Sure, I  . 
. . l-l-l-l-l-like you.  You're a good enough gal."
	"How . . . sweet of you to say, Ranma."  If she wasn't trying to be 
intensely saccharine, she would have punted Yuri into the ionosphere, but 
as it was, she merely twitched her cheeks slightly.  She looked at the 
blushing and distracted Yuri, and decided that now was the time.  "Ok, 
here I come!"
	"Huh?"  While her mind registered what Akane said, the other 
possible contextual meanings floated through her mind, distracting her 
further.  Meaning, of course, that Akane got in a very easy hit.  Yuri 
wasn't hit into the ionosphere, but it was a close thing.
	"Oh, god," muttered Akane.  "Get up, Ranma!" she yelled at the prone 
sex-changer, who was looking pole-axed with her splayed limbs and her 
rotating eyes.  "Where did I leave that cup of water."

			*			*			*

	"Ah, geeze, Akane, I haven't been this beaten up since I was nine," 
whined the now male Yuri.  He was covered in bandages, and walked with a 
slight limp.  A few children who had seen him either ran away screaming 
at the 'mummy', or had pointed and laughed.  Little brats.  
	"If you had just attacked me, instead of just dodging and being hit, 
you wouldn't be so beat up, you idiot," grumped Akane.  "And since when 
did you get so distracted that you would get hit so much?"
	"Ah."  What to say?  That I'm not the real Ranma, and am just play 
acting, and the fact that that is a trait that I mostly associated with 
the real Ranma, whom I hate, and I'm really a girl.  Right.  "Oh, I'm 
just sort of . . . worried that you'll get your fool head kicked in 
during the fight."
	"Who was kicking whose head this morning?" she asked archly.
	"Right, right, point," he conceded grudgingly.  "This is what I get 
for actually caring.  Hell, if the guy did try to kick your rock-hard 
head, he'd probably break his foot."  Yuri started chuckling, in that 
manner that he had; which was to close his eyes, put his hands that were 
laced together onto the back of his neck and chuckle loudly.  
	"JERK!" Akane yelled, as she kicked Yuri in the direction of the 
school.
	"TOMBOY!" replied Yuri, the Doppler effect lengthening his voice.

			*			*			*

	"Come on, Ranma.  I want to get this homework finished so that we 
can spend some more time practicing," said Akane, as they walked out of 
the school building, dragging Yuri behind her.
	"We didn't get any practice done today," said Yuri sulkily.  "All 
you did was sucker-punch me."
	"That's right, I sucker punched you, sucker," replied Akane with a 
malicious twist.  "And now I want to really practice."
	"Aw, come on, Akane, how likely is it that the guy is going to show 
up today?" asked Yuri plaintively.
	Thunder rolled ominously from the clear blue sky.  Everyone ignored 
it, for in Nerima they were all used to odd weather.  What they didn't 
ignore was the boy that suddenly appeared at the school gates.  
	He was about their age, sixteen or a little older.  He had a well-
defined body, muscular without being too heavy, and a gracefully way of 
moving, as if gravity was not a problem.  He wore a simple white T-shirt 
and jeans, with some red Converse canvas shoes and a simple red cap that 
he wore backwards and tilted, along with a short sword of the sort that 
was favored by the Roman Legionnaires.  His hair was long in the bangs, 
but the back and sides were short-ish.  As for his features . . . well, 
it seemed that Yuri had a competitor for 'most devastatingly cute 
bishounen guy', with large expressive brown eyes, a Roman nose, and full 
lips.  Girls were fainting as if from overexposure, which was appropriate 
in more ways than one.  
	"I am Yamazaki Ken, and I challenge those who practice the Anything-
goes style of martial arts," he said in a low-toned voice, though it 
carried very well.  It carried so well that even more girls were 
fainting.     "Come and answer my challenge."
	"Not likely, huh?" Akane said sarcastically.  She looked at Ken and 
thought briefly, yow, what a babe.
	"What were the odds?" Yuri asked hypothetically.
	"Actually," said Nabiki, as she popped up between them suddenly.  "I 
set it at two to one for him showing up.  You know, Ranma-kun, you really 
should notice . . . yow!"  Nabiki finally really looked at Ken, and was 
instantly in lust.  "Hey, Sweetie!  Would like some pictures of you and 
me in embarrassing situations?"
	Yuri watched Ken as Ken watched the crowd.  Ken spotted Yuri 
watching.  Briefly, sparks of ki flew between them as they probed one 
another.  Not half bad, they each thought.  Almost as good as I am.  
Almost, but not quite.
	This guy is way too tough for Akane to take on, thought Yuri.  He 
then thought rather smugly, guess I'll have to take this guy out for her.  
Oh no you don't, Ranma, thought Akane, knowing what he was thinking.
That fellow over there, thought Ken, needs looking after.  But is he a 
practitioner of Anything-Goes?  I wonder . . . 
	Yow, what a babe, thought the few still conscious girls.  They 
looked from Ken to Yuri and back again, and drooled slightly in a 
mindless lust filled stupor.  Though not thinking, in a visceral sense, 
they knew that the two boys would eventually fight, their hair flying, 
their muscles tensing, their bodies locked in combat.  Drool, drool, went 
the girls.
	"I-" began Yuri, before Akane elbowed him in the gut.  "Oof."
	"I am Tendo Akane," she announced, as she stepped in front of the 
crowd and got into a ready position.  "Of the Tendo school of Anything-
Goes martial arts."
	"I greet you, Tendo Akane," said Ken.  "I really hope that you don't 
hold any illusions about winning."
	"Shut up and AAHH!" screamed Akane, seeing that Ken had disappeared 
and reappeared right in front of her.
	Without a word, without a battle cry of any sort, he began.  Ken 
crouched deeply and, with a powerful thrust of his legs, gave Akane a 
puissant uppercut to the jaw.  Akane's feet did not touch the ground for 
a moment, so strong was the blow.  Dazed from the punch, she landed in a 
heap on the ground, but she soon recovered, getting back on her feet with 
a dusty scramble.  She got into a ready position once more, spitting out 
blood from the cut lip and probing her teeth.  He was so fast, and good, 
and . . . All thoughts vanished as Ken disappeared once more.  Akane 
automatically looked beneath her, but, soon realizing her mistake, jumped 
to the side.  Ken landed where she was last and quickly went after her.  
	Her defenses were rusty, very rusty.  She was more used to being in 
the offensive and having to block hits was not something she was used to.  
More hits to the head, glancing blows thankfully, but enough to continue 
to daze her.  Already her vision was going blurry, but she knew that if 
nothing else her endurance would be her winning factor, for surely this 
boy couldn't keep going at the pace he was . . .  And if all else fails 
then surely he would come and . . . No, she would not run to him and like 
a weak mewling little ineffective 'chick' and let the big man handle all 
her problems.  With renewed determination, Akane went on the offensive 
for the first time in the fight.  Too bad that it didn't do her any good.  
	Ken with a hard sweep of his legs caught Akane's own legs and caused 
her to fall on her side.  But instead of landing on the ground, Ken 
caught her with his other leg and tossed her in the air, and punched her 
in the solar plexus.  She landed on the ground with a loud breath of air, 
and stayed there trying, in small gasps, to get air into her tortured 
lungs.  The entire fight had taken, overall, a total of half a minute.  
Ken walked over to her and looked down.
	"Do you admit defeat, Tendo Akane?" he asked quietly, taking off his 
cap and affixing it right side front.  
	"Ngh �huuh, huuh, huuh- nghhlee," gasped Akane, blood dribbling out 
of her mouth.
	"I'll take that as a 'no', then, shall I?" he asked, his eyebrow 
arched slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching briefly before his 
features resumed his neutral expression.  "Very well, I shall . . . honor 
your courage by not condescending to you and resume the attack then."
	Ken reached down to Akane's arm and was just about to grasp it when 
his hand was knocked away from it, and his own belly kicked.  He too went 
down.  After a few brief moments (too brief) of intense gasping, Ken 
looked up at his assailant.  It was Yuri.  "Ah, the fellow.  My mistake 
for taking my eyes off you."
	"That's right, buddy," Yuri responded with a cocksure grin to hide 
his small kernel of fear.  "Me."
	"And who might you be exactly, fellow?" 
	"Exactly?"  Well, now there's a loaded question.  And an equally 
loaded answer.  "Saotome Ranma of the Saotome school of Anything-Goes 
martial arts, and I answer your challenge."
	"Ah.  Good."  Ken looked down at Akane while he got up from the 
ground and dusted himself off.  "Tell me, you don't seem the type to send 
cannon fodder after an opponent to 'soften' them up, so why did you allow 
her to come after me."
	Yuri tried not to wince.  He then shrugged, and trying desperately 
to sound nonchalant said, "It was her own fool decision to do it."
	"Very well.  Shall we?"
	"Sure."
	And they began to fight.

			*			*			*

	Meanwhile, back in real-time (i.e. not the time that was running 
through the mind of Yuri), Lupin was being driven through the Louvre.
	"NYAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!  This is great!" yelled her driver, Larry 
Cheyenne, the youngest get-away car driver in the world at twelve years 
of age, as he revved up the little beige, incredibly souped up car.  
"Man!  What a thrill!  Hey, let's put clothing from the Gap on the 
statues!  Nyahahahaha!"
	"Oh, lord," groaned Nodachi into his hands.  He glared over at 
Arsene.  	"Weren't you supposed to get all of his pot?"
	"I thought I did!" she yelled.  "Hey, Larry!  What have I told you 
about being high!"
	"That 'it's a lot of fun and I should try it sometime'?" 
	"No!  Bad, Larry, bad!  No soup for you!"
	"Don't need soup.  Got some grade-A hash."
	"AAAAHHH!!!  Watch out!" yelled Nodachi.
	They swerved around the Venus De Milo.
	"This car could have taken it," muttered Larry.
	"SHUT UP, LARRY!" they yelled in unison.
	"You know," said Nodachi as he looked back.  "You'd think that 
they'd have given up by now."
	The 'they' he was referring to were of course the Parisian police.  
Somehow they had gotten permission to drive their own cars through the 
Louvre chasing after them and, of all things, shooting guns.
	"I pity the fool who gets left holding the bag of manure," said 
Arsene.  
	"NYAHAHAHAHAA!"
	"Right then, I'll just pop the tire of the first car, and watch the 
explosions," declared Nodachi.  He took out a long throwing dagger, 
pulled half his body out of the car via the sunroof and aimed.  POW, went 
the tire of the first police car.  The driver swerved around, trying to 
bring the car under control.  Finally, he was able to stop the car, just 
in time to be crashed into by the other ten cars following behind it.  
Fortunately, other than nasty case of whiplash, all of the officers were 
pretty much ok.  That could not be said of their cars, however.   
	"Have you ever had so much fun?" yelled Larry.
	"No," replied Nodachi, deadpan.  "You're insane and I hope that you 
die of a painful and embarrassing venereal disease, you evil wench you," 
he said to Arsene.
	"Well, despite the fact that he's stoned out of his little twelve 
year old gourd, he's right, you know.  Enjoy it, we're committing the 
crime of the century of the week!" enthused Arsene.
	"Insanity."
	"Hey, stop!" yelled Arsene.  Larry stopped the car, and she stepped 
out.  "Well, gentlemen, here it is, the object of our impossible mission: 
the famous Mona Lisa!"
	"You realize that we're never going to be able to sell it, don't 
you?"
	"Of course we can't.  That's why we're going to ransom it!  
Victory!"  Arsene did a little jig in front of the painting. 
	"Right.  How do we get it out of the casing?" asked Nodachi, 
referring to the very thick plexi-glass covering the painting.  
	"No problem, we take part of the wall with it!"  She then grabbed 
the painting and hauled it out of the wall.
	"Jesus, I forget how strong you are," muttered Nodachi.  He got out 
the very thick, very large black bag, put the painting (plus casing, plus 
bits of wall) inside it, and put the whole affair into the trunk in the 
front of the car.  "Now, let's get the hell out of Dodge."
	"And stop hogging all the chips, Larry." 
	And they drove off into the sunset, chased after by a whole heap of 
police.
	Laughing all the way, tee-dum, tee-dee.

Possible End Theme Song
STOMP BOX
They Might be Giants
John Henry

Stomp Box speak my thought/ Vent these voices from the dark/ Shout Shout 
Shout Shout/ Scream it out/ Blast your missive/ Tell the wordless 
message/ Little Stomp Box/ Tear it from my heart/ Stomp Box, voice of 
fear/ pour the poison in my ear/ Kill Kill Kill Kill/ Kill me now/ Free 
the demon Hear the ceaseless screaming/ Little Stomp Box/ tear it from my 
heart
Stomp Box speak my thought/ Vent these voices from the dark/ Shout Shout 
Shout Shout/ Scream it out/ Blast your missive/ Tell the wordless 
message/ Little Stomp Box/ tear it from my heart
Kill Kill Kill Kill/ kill me now/ Free the demon Hear the ceaseless 
screaming/ Little Stomp Box/ tear it from my heart
Heart


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this chapter took me from about September to, well, 
now to finish.  And it has taken me a year to do only about two hundred-
KB.  That's . . . pretty sad, actually.  Now, many of my pre-readers have 
three main complaints about this chapter: One, that it is damned 
confusing, especially in the pronoun department; two, that it has 
meaningless interludes that detracted from the story; and three, that it 
has the characters acting so out of character.  I'm not saying that 
they're wrong . . . but blame this poor, inexperienced writer if you 
wish.  I hope that I'm getting better, however.  And I will say that the 
characters introduced do have a purpose, but one that will not become 
apparent anytime soon.  In a future chapter that I am already calling 
"Hashing it out" (though that may change), I will have an origin story, 
the point where this Ranma diverged from the 'real' Ranma.  As to this 
chapters more extreme dark nature . . . I don't really see it.  This 
story isn't supposed to be DARK, it's not even supposed to be all that 
realistic (I.E. full of nitt and grit).  It's just supposed to be a romp.  
	Oh, ah, if no one ever reads this, that's . . . all right by me 
(hurts, though).  I started this as a way of fighting against my pet 
peeve in fanfics: the Perfect Ranma.  Oh, sure, a few writers have done 
an admirable job of this.  I loved their alternate realities; a whole 
heap of fun.  It's just that the ones that did a horrible job make my 
teeth hurt.  But I didn't want to make a psychotic Ranma either (ala Ill 
met by Starlight).  So I went the middle path: a Ranma that is a grade-B 
jerk.  
	Well, that's my psychotic ramblings.  I am now going to work on the 
project that I have been promising myself for about a year now: the 
anime/comic fusion. 


-End