Grumbling quietly to herself, Mihrna mounted the last flight of stairs
leading up to the floor that she and Eimii lived on. "Stupid, stupid
postage changes. Now we have to revise all of our databases, and won't
_that_ be fun..." 

Pausing on the final step to sigh heavily, Mihrna turned the corner and
exited the stairwell, proceeding down the hall towards her room. As she
approached the door, however, a peculiar chill ran down her spine.
Blinking and looking around, Mihrna found that she was completely alone in
the hall. Nonetheless, as she regarded the door to the room, a familiar
feeling of unease began to form in the pit of her stomach. *What the hell
is she doing now...?*

Pushing the door open slowly, Mihrna found her roommate standing by the
beds. She was staring into a large black duffel bag that was sitting on
the lower bunk of the set, a rather nauseated look on her face. Looking up
as Mihrna entered, Eimii emitted a small squeak on surprise, and hastily
zipped up the duffel bag before Mihrna could get a good look at what was
inside. "Uhhh... hi Mihrna! H-how was your day?" She managed nervously. 

"Crappy, as always. New type of crappy though; department- wide procedural
update briefing. Fuuuun Fun..." Glancing down at the bag, Mihrna frowned
slightly, raising one eyebrow. "What's in the bag?" 

"Oh, n-nothing! Just, um... homework..." Looking slightly nauseous again,
Eimii turned away from Mihrna's gaze, looking over at the TV-VCR setup
that was sitting on the dresser. The TV was turned on and showing a
bluescreen, while the whirring noise that emitted from the VCR indicated
that a tape was being rewound. "The profs are trying a new... er,
'multimedia' and... 'interactive' approach to the course material..." 

"Is that so?" The weary goddess replied skeptically, peering at Eimii
closely. 

"Yeah," Nodding a couple times, Eimii turned back to the closed duffel
bag, now looking more than a little bit green. "Um... i finished the
'multimedia' part a second ago, and now i'm supposed to do the *glk*,"
hastily choking down her gorge, Eimii continued, "'i-interactive' part..." 

"You don't say..." Hanging her head, Mihrna closed her eyes and began to
massage her right temple. Looking up again after a few moments, she spied
Eimii's textbook and a piece of chalk sitting by the duffel bag. "Ooooh
no; no, not in here you're not." Looking up with a dark scowl on her face,
Mihrna stalked over to her roommate, who was looking back at her with a
worried expression on her face. 

Grabbing the duffel bag, Mihrna noticed that it was rather heavy. For a
moment, she fought off the urge to look inside, but quickly decided that
she really didn't want to know. Shoving the bag into Eimii's arms with a
grunt of effort, Mihrna favored her roommate with an irritated look. "I am
_not_ going to let you mess up our room again with one of your stupid
little '_class projects_.'" Grabbing the chalk and the textbook as well,
she set them on top of the duffel bag in Eimii's arms. Spinning the
surprised girl around, Mihrna marched Eimii over to the closet door. "You
can just go do it in here." 

"But Mihrna, there's not nearly enough room in there!"  Eimii protested,
weakly, glancing down at the heavy back in her arms. 

In response, Mihrna swung the closet door wide, revealing a long, dark
hallway, leading on for farther than Eimii could see. Not that she could
see all that far; the hall got too poorly lit to see at about a dozen feet
in. Still, that was enough to know that it was definitely deeper than it
should have been. "Um... Mihrna, when did you get this put in?" 

"The last time I had a 'chat' with Miryn, about what exactly your
professors were teaching you." The goddess replied testily. "Now go on,
and try not to make _too_ much of a mess." 

"B-but it's d-dark and scary in there!" Eimii cried plaintively as Mihrna
hustled her into the door. "A-and i was gonna send off something on e-mail
first!" 

"I'll send it for you. Now git!" Shutting the door behind the still
protesting girl, Mihrna turned back to the beds and began to walk over to
the computer desk. "Honestly..." 

Reaching the desk, Mihrna turned on the computer and opened up Eimii's
e-mail program. There, waiting to be sent, was a blank message with medium
length text attachment. *Hmm... so she finally got around to writing the
second part, huh? Humph, `s been so long, I'd better send the first part
of it as well.*

Sitting down at the desk, Mihrna opened up a file directory and pasted
another, older text file into the body of the message, then did the same
with the one already attached. *Idiot, can't even remember that she's not
supposed to send attachments...* Deleting the attachment, Mihrna moved the
combined message down a bit and began to type. 

[ Greetings from Montana's own provisional territory of Hell. Our torture
of the day is a happy little jaunt written by our own resident
procrastinator, Eimii.]

[ This story is a crossover/fusion fanfiction between the characters and
situations of Ranma 1/2 and Futaba-kun Change. I'll have to warn you, I've
read this one, and it gets a bit limeish in one or two parts, but nothing
past maybe PG-13 or so, and some of the underlying themes are sorta dark,
but hopefully in a humorous way. The first part of this fic was written a
loooong time ago, like all of Eimii's ongoing projects, so I'm including a
repost of the first chapter at the beginning of this message, followed
immediately by the second chapter.]

[ As always, none of the characters depicted in this story, as of yet, are
the property of Eimii, and she's using them completely without the
permission of the actual owners. If you sue her, you'll probably get a
pair of socks that haven't been washed in a couple millennia;
whoop-dee-doo. I'm not kidding. But seriously, please don't sue Eimii; she
can get expelled for plagiarism, and then I'd have to move out too.]

[ Any questions, comments, criticisms, or flaming aneurysms that you may
have concerning this story can be brought to the attention the author, as
I am certain she would be more than happy to see them. Well, most of them,
anyway...]

[But regardless, here's the story.]

Pausing for a moment, Mihrna shrugged, then added

[Have a nice day.]

before stabbing the 'send' key. 

Leaning back in her chair, Mihrna laced her fingers behind her head and
sighed to herself. Suddenly, an annoying, repetitive clicking noise began
to emit from the VCR. "Dammit, stupid VCR!" Jumping up, Mihrna pounded the
'eject' button on the VCR before it could eat yet another tape.
Reluctantly, and only after a few sharp blows to the casing, the VCR
surrendered the tape. Pulling it out of the slot, Mihrna's eyes happened
to stray across the label on the spine of the tape. This time succumbing
to her curiosity, the goddess read the plain, white label on the tape,
then blinked, and read it again aloud, a confused look on her face. 

"Evil Dead II? Army of Darkness? Why are they having her watch these...?"
She wondered. 

"SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!!!!" 

"AAAAIIIEEEEEE!!!!" 

Mihrna's head whipped over to look at the still closed door of the closet,
where several more screams, as well as a few more... disturbing noises
began to emanate. Setting the tape down with a click, the goddess once
again closed her eyes and hung her head, massaging her temples as a weak
groan escaped her lips. "Why me...?" 










- CHANGES -

Chapter one: Strange breed... 




"Misaki-chan!" 

Misaki, who was siting in the shade of a medium sized tree in the
courtyard outside of Furinkan Senior High School, looked up to see a boy
that appeared to be about her age approaching her at a brisk jog. He was
reasonably handsome, with an honest face and black hair that was long
enough to be thick without looking scruffy, and was wearing a regular
boy's uniform, which was presently slightly damp around the shoulders. 

"Ah! Shimeru-kun!" Misaki waved for Futaba to join her as she adjusted her
position in the shade to give him some room. "So, you found somewhere to
change?" 

Futaba nodded quickly as he sat down by her. "Yeah, there was an equipment
storage room around behind the school. It wasn't that hard to find."

"That's good. But I would think that by now you'd have the sense to change
_before_ you put on your other uniform." Misaki replied quizzically,
fingering the damp spots on Futaba's uniform.

Futaba, who was searching through his pack for something, paused to look
somewhat embarrassed. "Yeah, but I'm not sure I want to know what would
have happened to me if anyone had caught me as a guy while I was still
wearing my girl's uniform. I mean, what if Ms. Ninomiya had been around?"
Futaba shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the school disciplinarian
discovering him in such a position.

Misaki nodded emphatically in agreement. "That would have been a disaster. 
Remember what she did to those guys in home room?"

*****

As it happened, out of all the teachers that Futaba and Misaki could have
had as their homeroom teacher, they had been assigned to one Ms. Ninomiya
Hinako. The entire class, with the exception of Futaba-chan and Misaki,
had been highly skeptical and derisive when the diminutive instructor had
bounced into the room that morning. Futaba-chan and Misaki, having been in
a beginning chemistry class instructed by one Ms. Koujiro Yuki, who was in
reality only slightly older than Ms. Ninomiya appeared to be, were
extremely wary of their new teacher. Ms. Koujiro, despite being a little
girl, had also been a rather deranged mad scientist.

Their fears had been confirmed when, after trying futily to bring order to
her first class of incoming sophomores, Ms. Ninomiya had become frustrated
and declared that she was teaching a class of delinquents. She had then
proceeded to pull out a 50 yen piece and, holding the coin between her
outstretched fingers, had drawn a circle in the air and pointed the coin
at the class, shouting something to the effect of "happo-gojuuen-satsu." 
Futaba-chan and Misaki had had the sense to move to the back of the class
as the ritual began, and so were in a prime position to witness the
effects of the attack.  Row upon row of the students in front of them had
been reduced to wispy charactures of their former selves, as yellowish
tendrils of light streamed out of their bodies towards the front of the
room. After a few moments the light had ceased and Futaba-chan and Misaki,
being among the few spared, had looked up to see a now _very_ adult
looking Ms. Ninomiya, her new form straining the confines of the yellow
tube dress that her former form had practically been swimming in. 

Ms. Ninomiya, in a rather husky voice, had instructed the remaining mobile
students to prop the "delinquents" up in their desks before she continued
the lesson. There had been no further disruptions all morning. 

*****

"I wonder how she did that. She changed almost as much as Kurin does." 
Misaki mused as she found her bento box and proceeded to eat her lunch. 

"I don't know, but I doubt that it has anything to do with how my family
changes. It looked like she used that coin to steal all the strength from
the other students. They all shriveled up, while she... uhmm... filled
out."  Futaba fumbled around inside his bag for a few more seconds before
retrieving his own bento box. As he began eating, he glanced over at
Misaki's lunch in carefully masked disgust. He loved her dearly, and had
suffered through many things for her sake, but he still couldn't fathom
how she could stand eating anything so toxically sweet as all of her
cooking was.  Looking at what she had prepared today, he idly wondered how
Misaki kept her teeth from disintegrating after meals, not to mention the
fact that she never seemed to show any evidence of the perpetual sugar
high that most human beings would be in after consuming that many empty
calories. 

True to form, Misaki was eating the sticky, syrupy concoction as though it
were perfectly normal. "Still, I can see why your father chose _this_ high
school to send you to. With teachers that can suck the life out of you
while at the same time growing a meter in height and aging more than ten
years, your problem seems almost normal." she thought aloud as she reached
for something that was white and puffy and was making Futaba's teeth hurt
just looking at it. 

Futaba nodded in agreement absently as he thought about the discussion
that he and his father had had that morning, shortly before he had left
for school. Apparently, there had been several deciding factors that had
prompted his parents to enroll him in this particular school, not the
least of which was the fact that Furinkan High School was renowned for
having some of the most bizarre students and faculty in all of Toukyou. It
wasn't the most unusual school in all of Nerima, Tomobiki High having long
had an unshakable hold on that position, but it was close. It was also
close to home, which meant that Futaba wouldn't have such a long commute
to school.  This was especially useful in two ways: First, it meant that
Futaba wouldn't have to run as far or dodge as many people when that
particular time of the month rolled around; Second, it meant that
Misaki-chan didn't have to push very hard to get her parents to send her
there as well. After all, Furinkan High was best known for the amount
physical violence that occurred in the area. This was much less disturbing
than the reports of severe electrical hazards or heavy weapons discharge
that surrounded some of the other schools in Nerima. 

There had also been one other reason that Futaba's parents had decided to
send him there. His father had mentioned it as something of an
afterthought, though it had been gnawing at Futaba's mind all morning... 

*****

"The principal is a relative?" 

"Yes, Kunou-kouchou is a distant relative of ours. One of his grandparents
was a Shimeru, so he probably knows about the secret, and he may turn a
blind eye to the fact that one Shimeru Futaba is always absent when the
other is present." Futaba's father answered as he began searching through
the closet for his coat. 




"Does he change as well?" Asked Futaba, intrigued by the prospect of
meeting a relative who's branch of the family had elected to marry outside
of the island that most if the Shimerus called home. 

Futaba's father had a somewhat disturbed look on his face when he turned
to Futaba. "No, the Kunous lost the ability to change two generations ago,
the change genes being diluted by all of the outside blood. Still, this
doesn't mean that they're 'normal' people, just like everyone else." His
expression darkened further as Futaba's father looked directly at Futaba
and continued.  "The change genes, though not expressing in the normal
fashion, are still apparently present in the Kunou line. They seem to
cause severe chemical imbalances in the central nervous systems of the
Kunou family, making them extremely susceptible to various types of mental
and neurological disorders. Nearly every member of the Kunou family that
has any Shimeru blood in them has gone insane at some point in their life. 
This includes Kunou-kouchou and his children. His daughter, Kunou Kodachi,
attends a girl's school in the area, so you shouldn't have to worry about
her much.  Kunou Tatewaki, however, is a senior at Furinkan High. I'd
advise you to keep well away from both him and his father as much as
possible..."

*****

*Well, so much for meeting a 'normal' member of the family.* Futaba sighed
mentally as he reached for another piece of fish. As he did so, he felt
Misaki shift beside him, scooting away from his side quickly. He cast her
a questioning glance, but her attention was focused elsewhere. Futaba
followed her startled gaze, turning his head forward again just in time to
see a cute pig-tailed girl barreling towards them at dangerous velocity. 
Before Futaba could react further, the girl bounded onto his head,
planting her foot firmly on his forehead, then bounced off of his head and
into the concealing upper branches of the tree. Her second jump sent
Futaba's head whipping back into the tree, raising a painful bump on the
back of his skull and knocking him senseless for several moments. 

When the pretty stars and swirling lights finally resigned themselves to
simply throbbing painfully in the growing lump on the back of his head,
Futaba slowly raised his head to face in the direction from which the girl
had come. There, just stepping from around a building, were two rather
unusual looking people. The first was a brown haired young man dressed in
traditional samurai garb and carrying a bokken. He could probably be
considered drop dead gorgeous, if you were into the classical look. The
second was an attractive girl with long black hair tied into a ponytail. 
She didn't seem to be wearing anything but a leotard, and was rapidly
twirling a gymnastic ribbon in her right hand. Then the pair seemed to
notice Futaba and Misaki, and began walking over to them at a brisk pace. 

"That boy looks a lot like Kurin." Observed Misaki, a hint of distaste
entering her voice. 

As he finally cleared away the last of the daze, Futaba had to agree that
the approaching boy did indeed bear a strong resemblance to his cousin's
male form. At that point, remembered one last bit of information that his
father had imparted to him before hurrying him off to school that morning,
something that might help explain this little detail. His father had given
him a rather cursory physical description of the members of the Kunou
family that he might meet while he was at Furinkan, and judging from the
ridiculous garb that the approaching pair was wearing, and from the way
that that strange girl had sought cover immediately preceding their
arrival, Futaba suspected that the boy and girl who were now almost upon
them were, more likely than not, none other than the Kunou siblings. 

His suspicions were confirmed when, after standing before them for a
moment and surveying the area, the couple deigned to notice them.  Turning
to Futaba, his head held high and his eyes averted slightly, the boy
addressed them. 

"You there! Rise and present thyself, for I would speak with thee of
events having transpired but moments ago in what must have assuredly been
in thy presence and thus preserved for mine askance." The boy adjusted his
grip on his bokken subtly, making it abundantly obvious that he was
willing to extract what knowledge he wished by force, if necessary. "I
would hear from thee the direction in which the most beauteous and
capricious pig-tailed one has departed, and under what geis or artifice
was she influenced that she might have so quickly and utterly disappeared
from the protections and cares of my watchful eye." 

The girl in the leotard began to giggle, and snapped her head back and
forth so that her ponytail cracked like a whip. "You've lost her now
Onii-san." She made her eyes a little wider than was comfortable for
normal humans to look at and scanned the courtyard again. "The red witch
vanished once more! Again that brazen hussy has disappeared without a
trace, no doubt off tempt my beloved Ranma-sama with her dubious charms
and vile trickery." 

"Woman, wilt thou rave thy madness here in the face of the very children
of the unwashed mob?!" The dark haired young man growled at the girl. 
"Clearly my Pigtailed Goddess has been spirited away, but not of her own
free will, no, my enemy, my nemesis, the bane of every honorable student
in this school, Saotome Ranma is behind this outrage! Too cowardly to face
my righteous wrath he dangles the avatar of my desire before me, then
conceals her. But I, The captain and Mighty Blue Thunder of Furinkan High
School Kendo Team shall yet discover where he has concealed her. If I must
cut down these trees and disassemble these buildings and even snap the
bones of every unworthy sophomore in this courtyard I will learn where she
has gone and how to follow!"

Before Misaki could formulate a response to that, Futaba quickly leapt to
his feet and, after swaying a bit from some lingering dizziness, bowed low
and began speaking in venerable tones. "We're terribly sorry, honorable
Kunou-senpai, but the one you seek passed us by quickly and without
incident, proceeding in that general direction." Futaba then straightened
a bit and gestured with his right arm somewhat towards the back of the
school. "But, if you proceed with celerity, I have no doubt that you, the
great Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, will still have no trouble catching
up with her."

To this, Kunou nodded sagely, and inclined his head so that he could look
in the direction that Futaba had indicated while still peering at Futaba
and Misaki out of the corner of his eye. "Truly is my goddess swift of
feet, like the graceful fawn, innocent and untamable. Perhaps the Blue
Thunder has been too harsh as yet, in judgement of the uncouth ruffians
that have so recently come to scurry and skulk like vermin through the
halls of yon fine establishment of learning. For even among the mongrel
dogs, clawing and struggling from the throes of adolescence, here is one
who would know his master. But the Blue Thunder must tarry not longer in
this place, lest his prize liberate herself too much from the comfort of
his embrace. Good day to you." At that, Kunou broke into a brisk but
dignified stride, not once sparing a look back at the still slightly bowed
Futaba. After a moment, Kodachi followed, departing with a sniff of
disgust in Futaba and Misaki's general direction. 

After he was sure that they were out of sight around the back of the
school, Futaba relaxed and leaned against the tree, releasing the breath
that he had been holding. Misaki peered at him for a second before
speaking. 

"Well, that was rather insulting, to say the least. Who were those two
nutcases?" She asked. 

"The Kunous." 

Futaba and Misaki looked up to the branches of the tree, from which the
voice had originated. After a moment, the pig-tailed girl who had bounced
off of Futaba's head earlier jumped down and landed gracefully in front of
them. She was rather small, standing about a head shorter than Futaba, and
her hair had definite red highlights in the bright sun. She was also
insufferably cute, which was only intensified when she put her hand behind
her head in an embarrassed fashion and faced Futaba, looking slightly
towards the ground. 

"Er, thanks for throwing 'em off like that. Sorry 'bout your head." she
bit out, with some difficulty. 

This time it was Futaba's turn to put his hand behind his head, rubbing
the still growing bump that this girl had so recently put there. Turning
to look in the direction that the Kunous had left in, he spoke in a good
humored tone.  "Don't worry about it. It doesn't hurt _that_ much, and I
sort of knew what to expect from the Kunous. It's no wonder you were
trying to get away." 

The girl peered at him and Misaki quizzically for a second before
responding. "Knew what to expect? Don't tell me that they're warning all
of the incoming freshmen about those jerks.. I knew Kunou was a pompous
moron, but I didn't think he was a _famous_ pompous moron." Misaki was
also peering at him with some interest.

"Er..." Futaba began, unsure of how much he should say. "It's not that
they're famous. It's just that, well, my father told me about them." 

"Your father knew about them, and he still sent you here?" This came from
Misaki, who was dividing her attention between Futaba and the yet-unnamed
pigtailed girl. 

"Well...that is..." Futaba mumbled, floundering badly. "The thing is that,
um... They're sort of, ah... my relatives..." He finished lamely, mentally
kicking himself and silently praying that he hadn't just done something
monumentally stupid.

Misaki's eyes widened, realization of Futaba's father's reasoning suddenly
becoming a bit clearer. The pigtailed girl, however, reacted in a rather
different manner. 

"You're joking right? You're really related to those freaks?" The girl
rocked back on her heels, appraising Futaba closely. "Wow. No weird speech
pattern; No funny clothing;" she peered at Futaba's partially opened
school bag, "No weapons, as far as I can tell. You actually seem pretty
normal.  Dull, almost. That's amazing. Are you really related to them?" 

Futaba and Misaki had momentarily broken into a cold sweat when the girl
had pronounced Futaba "Normal," but Futaba quickly composed himself and
nodded once to the girl. "Yeah. My father told me that they were sort of
weird, and warned me to keep clear of them." Thinking back to some of what
the girl had said, he added, "Exactly how bad _are_ they?" 

This apparently being a subject that she knew well, the girl dove in
spiritedly. "The Kunous are some of the most deranged people I've ever
met. All 'a them, including that wacko father of theirs. If Kunou or
Kodachi aren't alternately trying to either 'date' me or kill me, then
Kunou-kouchou is trying to shave my head. It's even worse when they're all
trying to do it all at once. You wouldn't believe some of the things that
those nuts have done..."  The girl drove on, rattling off countless
bizarre stories of the Kunous' insanity, oblivious to the odd looks that
her tirade was drawing from Futaba and Misaki. Strangely enough, most of
the other students in the area, with the exception of the few other
sophomores that had come out to eat on the lawn, were completely ignoring
the ridiculous tales that the girl was spouting, as though they had heard
it all before. The pigtailed girl herself was beginning to wind down,
returning it seemed to the events that had occurred earlier that day. "... 
and then that _jerk_ Kunou came up behind me and grabbed my chest just as
I was dodging Kodachi's ribbon." The girl's expression darkened, no doubt
in remembrance of the amorous kendoist's actions. "Oooh... I _really_ hate
it when he does that. Just once I wish that _he_ could be the girl so that
someone could show _him_ what it's like..."  Futaba made a strange choking
sound this remark, and both he and Misaki again broke into a cold sweat,
but the pigtailed girl didn't seem to notice.  She simply stared off into
the distance, an intent look on her face, apparently deep in thought. 
Slowly, a smile began to appear on her face.  The smile quickly changed
into a wide grin as the idea took hold, a grin of the truly wicked. 
"Heh... That's perfect. I can't believe I never thought of it before..." A
low chuckle escaped her lips as she rubbed her hands together
deliberately. 

The bell signaling the end of lunch sounded, and the various students on
the lawn reluctantly began filing back into the school. The noise also
startled the pigtailed girl out of her reverie, causing her to glance up
at the clock on the front hall before grumbling under her breath something
about missing lunch because of a certain pair of infuriating morons. 
Thinking of the Kunous had the peculiar effect of causing the grin to
return, less malicious this time, but still disturbing. The girl waved
goodbye to Futaba and Misaki as she ran off towards the main hall of the
school, the grin never leaving her face. Exchanging a worried glance,
Futaba and Misaki too prepared to return to class, all thoughts of the
strange girl suddenly replaced in Futaba's mind by worry over how he was
going to explain why he wasn't there for the morning session, and why
Futaba-chan wouldn't be there for the afternoon session. *Maybe I ought to
change back. I really don't think I'm going to be able to relax for the
rest of the day...*

*****

Sunset saw the strange young martial artist, now male, sitting alone in
the Tendou Dojo. Ranma rose to feet and walked across the floor to look
towards the back of the lot that the dojo and house were built upon. *Damn
it, where is she? It's almost dinner time* Rather than sitting down again,
Ranma began to pace back and forth in the dojo. *I hope she remembered
what time I told her to come.* This particular line of thought was
interrupted suddenly by a loud crashing noise emanating from the direction
of the house. Whipping his head around, Ranma could see a small cloud of
dust rising from near the front of the house. *No... she couldn't have. I
told her _specifically_ to come to the dojo.* It was no good. Ranma could
only think of two people that opened doors that way, and Ryouga usually
screamed something about revenge and hell before entering. Before he even
finished the thought Ranma was dashing across the grounds towards the
living room door, a look of dread etched across his features.

As he slid the screen aside, his worst fears were confirmed. There,
standing in the living room and holding a pair of takeout boxes, was
Shampoo.  Glaring at said amazon, the narrow slits of her eyes promising
pain more vicious than could possibly be inflicted by the contents of the
cooking pan in her right hand, was Akane.. 

At that moment, Shampoo noticed Ranma and, after setting the boxes
carefully on the table, promptly flung herself at the stunned martial
artist.  "Ni hao Ranma! Shampoo bring food to save husband from violent
pervert girl. Shampoo also bring special present that husband ask for." 
Shampoo purred as she rubbed up against the flustered Ranma. "Maybe
husband take Shampoo on date now? Leave food for others so they also not
have to eat violent pervert girl's dinner?"

As Ranma struggled to gather his wits and disengage the amorous amazon, a
low growl from Akane's direction drew his attention. He watched in horror
as said girl began to advance on him, the pan she had been holding
previously having been replaced sometime by a large meat tenderizer.
Several thoughts whizzed through Ranma's mind in these moments. Among them
were the notion that, considering how Akane held her weapon, she was
planning to beat him to a bloody pulp rather than send him through the
roof. Nabiki would probably appreciate that, considering that the need to
replace the front door had probably arisen recently. Akane growled again,
this time the sounds definitely resembling the name 'Ranma.' Just before
the world went black, Ranma had one final notion. *At least if I'm
unconscious, she can't make me eat her food...*

*****



A new day was born in Nerima, and all was good. The sun, un-delinquent in
it's duties, rose at the appointed hour, bringing light and warmth to the
day and waking the wearied minds of the city to an avian chorus in full
celebration of the promise of the day to come. For Kunou Tatewaki, scion
of the House Kunou, the Mighty Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, undisputed
prince of the high school fencing world, this joyous pronouncement of the
morning was an omen; a sign from the gods themselves that the time of
reckoning was nigh. Today, after over a year of struggle and strife, a
decisive blow would be struck in his holy quest against the Dark Sorcerer
Saotome, the most heinous and vile practitioner of the black arts as ever
has blighted the face of the earth. Kunou Tatewaki was given to seeing
omens of this nature. They often precipitated his seemingly random attacks
upon Saotome Ranma, and generally came to naught, quickly being forgotten
in the face of new omens. 

Unfortunately for Kunou Tatewaki, on this day the gods of destiny were
looking upon him with some interest, and had indeed kindly offered such a
sign for those who were receptive. Kunou, however, was too distracted by
his morning meditations at his Tendou Akane and Osage-no-onna shrine to
notice Midorigame being carried off by a cloud of rabid locusts. Still,
one omen is often as good as another, and Kunou Tatewaki's assumptions
_were_ correct, in a sense...

*****

A short time later, at the front of a dead end alley somewhere between
Furinkan High School and the Kunou manor, a short girl in chinese clothes
peered around the corner to scan the street. As her eyes locked upon a
tall, noble figure, striding along confidently and perhaps more than a bit
arrogantly, a wide grin spread across her face. Struggling not to break
into an un-manly giggle in anticipation, Ranma-chan retreated into the
alley to await her prey. 

Kunou Tatewaki strode confidently towards his dominion, his purposeful
gait alerting all that knew him of his intentions. Visions of the sorcerer
Saotome vanquished, and of his two goddesses of beauty and grace cradled
warmly in the protection of his embrace, swam through his mind as he
contemplated the manner by which he would announce his challenge. His
musings were abruptly cut short when, from somewhere off to his left, an
enchantingly familiar voice reached in through his psyche and immediately
overrode all other concerns.

"Oh Kunou daarling..." rang the voice of his beloved. 

Turning quickly to his left, Kunou followed the sound of the voice to the
back of a dead end alley, where he saw his cherished Osage-no-onna
beckoning to him seductively, the top of her blouse slightly undone, her
eyes glittering in mystery and amusement. Could it be that his beloved
pig-tailed goddess had finally broken free of the tyranny of the Sorcerer
Saotome's attentions? His heart swelled with joy at the thought, and Kunou
Tatewaki silently thanked the gods before succumbing the rapture that
coursed through his being. "Come to me, My Goddess!!" cried the great Blue
Thunder, unbridled passion driving him onward as he rushed to gather the
object of his desire into a loving embrace. 

So overcome by the moment was he that Kunou Tatewaki completely missed the
delicate, cloth shod foot that rose swiftly to halt his forward momentum. 
After removing her foot from his face, Ranma-chan maneuvered the
still-stunned kendoist farther into the alley. Then, before he had time to
regain what few wits he possessed, Ranma-chan turned to Kunou and peered
deep into his eyes, a small, mysterious smile upon her lips. 

"My beloved Kunou-sama, for whom I have pined many a night alone in my
bed, I have come to you today with a very special present, If you would
have it." She moved closer to him, batting her eyelashes seductively. When
Kunou opened his mouth to reply, she put a finger to his lips. "But first,
I must ask humbly that my darling close his eyes, as I do not wish the
import of my offering lessened in any way." 

Kunou, unable to doubt the innocent beauty before him and anxious to
receive a gift from his goddess, bowed to her and spoke in warm tones.
"Thou needs but ask, oh warmth of my heart, and I would tear down the
eternal heavens with my bare hands. To do such a small thing for my
beloved is a reward in itself." With that, he straightened and closed his
eyes, visions of what reward his goddess might bestow upon him dancing
through his mind.

Seeing this, Ranma-chan backed away from the unaware Kendoist, the manic
grin once again returning to her face. Moving to the side of the alley,
she fumbled around behind a nearby garbage can, never taking her eyes off
of Kunou, until she located what she was looking for: a full bucket of
water. Setting this in the center of the alley a few feet away from Kunou,
she reached into her pocket and retrieved a small red paper envelope.

"Shall I open my eyes, my goddess, so that I may once again bask in the
radiance of thy heavenly beauty?" Kunou asked of the air in front of him,
turning to face the sounds that Ranma-chan had made when she set the
bucket down.

"Not yet, my beloved. My gift is not ready, and I wouldn't stand for
anything but perfection in this glorious moment." Ranma-chan intoned
sweetly. Then, after shaking it to settle the contents at the bottom,
Ranma-chan tore open the red envelope and emptied the colorless powder
into the bucket of water. Upon contact with the water the powder began to
fizz and pop like an antacid tablet, momentarily threatening to overflow
the bucket before the bubbling subsided. 

"Would that I might gaze upon thy lovely countenance again, my love, and
then escort thee to the Furinkan High School Grounds, that I might defend
thee from the likes of the foul sorcerer Saotome. Prithee, shall I open
mine eyes?" questioned Kunou, again redirecting his sightless gaze towards
the sound of the bubbling and fizzing that he had just heard, his mind
grasping at any clue as to what his beloved might have brought him.

"Soon, dearest. My offering to my knight and protector is nearly complete,
and I would ask that he wait only a few moments more, while I prepare
myself to be seen." Ranma-chan murmured reassuringly as she hefted the
bucket by the handle and swirled the water around a bit to ensure that it
was properly mixed. Then, satisfied that it was ready, she put her other
hand on the bottom edge of the bucket and repositioned herself so that she
was facing Kunou with the bucket in ready splashing position at her side. 

"I fear that I can restrain myself no longer, lest my heart burst from my
chest in anticipation of thy affections. When shall I once again be
permitted to throw open the shutters of mine soul and feast upon the
bounty of thy presence?" Pleaded Kunou, his voice dripping with the
longing that he felt. 

"Now, My Darling." Answered Ranma-chan, the bucket in her hands already
beginning it's forward swing. 

As the mighty Blue Thunder opened his eyes, he could swear that he could
sense something flying towards him. Assuming that it must be his beloved
Osage-no-onna, throwing herself into his embrace, he spread his arms to
welcome her. It was precisely at this moment that he finished opening his
eyes and caught a bucket of cold water full in the face.

As Kunou fell back a step or two, sputtering and wiping water from his
eyes, Ranma-chan surveyed her work, a look of mild surprise momentarily
replacing the malicious smirk on her face. Then, satisfied that all was
going as planned, she bounded off out of the alley towards Furinkan High. 

Despite what people might think, Kunou Tatewaki's mind is normally a very
orderly place. Everything has it's place; every thought is conceived,
processed, warped around each of Kunou Tatewaki's various obsessions and
mental blocks, and carried out, in such a regular and predictable pattern
that, were it not for that particular second to last step in the process,
people would probably consider him a very stable individual. 

This was not the case currently, however. Thoughts were flowing in
decidedly unusual directions, and the world around him seemed to warp and
twist about as his perception of it suddenly became utterly unhinged. 
Something had apparently gone horribly wrong somewhere in the fundamental
makeup of Kunou Tatewaki's mind, and he wasn't particularly enjoying it. 
One thought managed to surface in the turgid miasma of his unbound
subconscious: *Osage-no-onna. What happened to Osage-no-onna?*

"Osage-no-onna! To whence hast thou spirited off to, for I am wounded to
the mine very soul, and need of your attentions." Kunou cried as he
staggered towards the mouth of the alley. It struck him that his body
seemed adamantly opposed to functioning as it should, and his voice was
warped in his ears to something that he would not have recognized as his
own had the thought behind it not preceded the sound. Leaning on the wall
for support, Kunou attempted to bring his right hand to his throat to feel
if it was damaged in some way. 

Kunou's arm was in accord with the rest of his body, and was rather
reluctant to travel to it's destination via the path which Kunou had
chosen.  Thus, it proceeded in a rather jerky fashion up along the front
of Kunou's body. This alerted Kunou to yet another anomalous sensation
somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. There was an obstruction of sorts
in that area, and his arm had brushed roughly past it as it was working
it's way towards his throat. This had triggered such a slew of unfamiliar
sensations that he felt obliged to look down to see what the matter was. 

There appeared to be two rather large and recent additions to his anatomy
in that area. The word 'breasts' floated momentarily to the surface of his
disordered consciousness, though it lingered long enough for Kunou to
resolve that something was definitely wrong with him having breasts. Not
one to take things at face value, Kunou decided to reestablish their
existence. He quickly, or at least as quickly as was possible, unbuttoned
his school dress shirt. Yes, they appeared to be quite real. But why
should he suddenly have breasts? 

Something below the surface tugged at that thought, hinting that there was
something else that would make sense in this sort of situation. Grasping
at anything that made even the most remote amount of sense at this point,
Kunou latched onto that feeling and pulled hard, exerting all of what was
left of his mental facilities. What he came up with was enough to induce
panic even in the warped recesses of his fading consciousness. 

Frantically, Kunou fumbled with his hands in order to feel inside of his
pants. On the fourth try he succeeded in getting his left hand into the
waistband of his school pants, and proceeded directly downward from there. 
Something was missing there. Something was definitely missing, though he
couldn't summon the focus necessary to remember exactly what that
something was. He did still have a firm grasp upon his previous thought
though, and what he was feeling now confirmed that notion. 

Sinking to her knees at the mouth of the alleyway, four blocks away from
Kunou manor and approximately ten minutes before the beginning of first
period at Furinkan Senior High School, one last lucid thought sparked in
the darkening storm that raged within Kunou's mind. As she pitched forward
into blissful and complete unconsciousness, Kunou-chan was left with the
final revelation: *I am a girl...*



*****


- Changes -

Chapter Two: A Familiar Ceiling... 






"Remove thy putrescent grasp from yon fair maiden's delicate wrist, O
odiously accursed sorcerer, lest ye immediately incur the righteous wrath
of the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High School!" 

Saotome Ranma simply cast Kunou a slimy and disrespectful grin as he
continued to manhandle the distressed young woman.  "Oh? Does this one
interest you as well, Kunou-chan?"

Kunou Tatewaki quivered in rage as he struggled to maintain his composure. 
"You will address me properly, wretched misogynist swine, ere I shall have
out thy tongue that I might cast it before you into the festering,
sulfurous pit of damnation unto which thou shalt follow, post haste!" The
wood of his bokken creaked under the stress of his grip as he waved it
towards the increasingly frantic woman presently held in Saotome's power. 
"Now, for I shall not repeat myself a third time, you will release the
maid immediately, that she may be spared witness to the moment of thy
demise, lest her eyes and soul be forever sullied by the very sight of
thine base parts strewn about the field of honor!"

The fiend placed his free hand on his chest, an unconvincing and utterly
contemptuous expression of innocence on his face. "I'm afraid I have no
idea who you might be talking about, _dear_ Kunou-chan. I see no one here
but you and I."

"Speak not of thy madness, cretinous troglodyte! Nor even the King of
Fools himself could help but notice the vision of beauty struggling
captive at thy side." Kunou punctuated his point by nodding towards the
maiden in question, for the first time taking a moment to examine her
countenance more closely. 

She was indeed a truly ravishing vision of nature's craft, her noble
beauty and striking profile possessed of a mature air that momentarily
eclipsed even the sheer vibrance and purity of his pig-tailed goddess. But
something about her dragged an icy dagger of wrongness down Kunou
Tatewaki's spine. He allowed his gaze to wander across her features,
hoping to locate the source of this feeling, ignoring the plaintiff voice
of prescience screaming in the back of his mind to turn around and walk
away. 

For several tense moments, Kunou found himself confounded by a strange
inability to properly capture the young woman's face.  Though he could
clearly discern her general form and figure, the lines of her face seemed
to waver, eternally just beyond focus. Searching more frantically, Kunou's
gaze eventually settled upon her eyes; of her entire face, this feature
alone did not elude his grasp. And within that piercing, steel-framed gaze
Kunou found what held him so. *Those eyes... so much like mother's.  So
much like...* Kunou stared into the depths, remembering one hundred times
over the gaze that he had seen nearly every day of his life, yet had never
met. Then, as Kunou stood frozen in shock, the woman with Kunou's eyes
turned away, instead staring at the bokken in his hands. Kunou turned to
look at his hands as well, but did not see what he had expected. 

His fists were clenched but empty, and another hand, larger than his own,
was wrapped around his right wrist. Confusion and shock gave way to horror
as Kunou drew his gaze up along the arm connected that hand, until the
malicious, smiling countenance of the sorcerer Saotome filled his vision. 

"Is something wrong, Kunou-chan?" The demonic visage spoke in playful,
condescending tones. 

Kunou immediately snapped his gaze downward, towards his chest, only to
find that he was suddenly naked. _She_ was naked, those eyes, undeniably
her own, told her. The vision of her own naked flesh sent Kunou's mind
reeling, only to be brought back from the abyss by a rough tug on her
wrist. 

"Now that you understand..." Saotome grinned as he took her other wrist in
his hand and held her arms above her head. This action drew Kunou's
attention to the fact that Saotome too was naked. Kunou's body refused to
obey her as Saotome used his free hand to paw her right breast for a
moment.  Then he began to slide his hand down her body, slowly passing it
between her breasts and across her taut stomach, its final destination
wrenchingly clear in Kunou's mind. 

*NO!! STOP!!! NOOOO!!!!!* Kunou screamed futilely inside of the prison
that her body had become, the cries seeming to echo forever inside of her
mind, never escaping. *NO...*

*****

"NOOOOOO!!" 

Blinding white light exploded behind Kunou's eyelids, the scream of pure
terror echoing and reverberating terribly in his ears. Every muscle in his
body tensed simultaneously, as misfiring neurons fed back upon themselves,
further compiling the agony and freezing his limbs in shock. 

Had Kunou been feeling particularly verbose at the time, he might have
likened the experience to going through a fatal, spine shattering
epileptic seizure, while at the same moment enduring the most intense,
most brain-searing hangover ever to befall a human being in all of the
entire illustrious history of heroic samurai drinking binges.  Instead, as
it happened that he was at the moment somewhat preoccupied, he simply
whimpered pitifully, and twitched a bit.
 
Kunou passed what seemed like countless measured eternities in this
condition, riding the ever encroaching waves of crippling agony as they
washed through his tortured body, until finally the pain began to subside.
Slowly, gradually, the crushing embrace of the lifeblood flowing through
his veins, crashing against the inner walls of his skull with each
thunderous heartbeat, began to loosen. With each shuddering breath a
little of the searing pain coursing through his body began to ebb away,
receding eventually into an uncomfortable, but tolerable, throbbing ache.

The lingering echoes of the scream faded from his senses, and the blinding
light, which Kunou had originally construed as a small star erupting into
supernova from within his skull, gradually resolved itself into the stark,
bleached white of the ceiling overhead. Or perhaps it was a wall; along
with the blessed release of tension a new wave of drowsiness had suddenly
washed over him, and Kunou couldn't quite summon the presence of mind to
discern precisely which it was.

No, it was definitely a ceiling. A spark of recognition flared within
Kunou's sleep hampered mind, drawing the look of the ceiling into sharp
focus. From the play of the light across its empty surface, to the
delicate pattern of cracks that crossed its weathered patina of
antiseptic, platinum white paint, Kunou somehow felt that he knew this
ceiling; that he knew it very well indeed. 

Closing his eyes, as the warm feeling of safety and security began to
creep into his cold limbs, Kunou drowsily contemplated this odd sense of
recognition, trying to discern how he could have come to know this
particular ceiling so intimately. Perhaps he was in his home? No, most
certainly not; Kunou did not feel that he was the sort to fancy staring at
the blank slate of a white ceiling when he was surrounded with such things
of beauty and history as those treasures which abounded within the Kunou
manor.

Where, then? If not in his home, then in what place did he spend so much
of his time that he might become so familiarly aquatinted with a fixture
such as this. In school perhaps? Most likely, given the countless hours of
scholarly pursuits which Kunou engaged in daily; but why a ceiling? Kunou
would have ventured that a desk, or perhaps a favorite pencil or notebook
should have engaged more of his attention than a ceiling. In addition, the
ceilings of the classrooms were generally a more... organic sort of
off-white, rather than the clean, sterile bleakness of the plaster surface
above. 

Actually, Kunou could really only think of one sort of place in which one
might commonly encounter such a cold, bland absence of pigmentation as
this. As if to cite an affront to nature itself through their continued
survival, places where sick people were housed often employed this color
scheme. A hospital, then? No; Kunou Tatewaki, Blue Thunder of Furinkan
High, had nary if ever suffered so great an injury that he might require
the extended attentions of a medical professional. Rather, the minor
scrapes and bruises that he received and endured stoically within the
course of his daily battle against the unspeakable evils of the vile and
treacherous sorcerer Saotome were usually attended to by-

Yes! That was it! Finally, it was all becoming clear to him! The
insistently encroaching veil of sleep momentarily lifted at this
revelation. This familiar ceiling, which Kunou had previously felt so
strangely accustomed to viewing, was actually the ceiling of the Furinkan
High School infirmary! Of course!  And, as such, Kunou could only assume
that the wicked fiend Saotome had once again, through some low and
dastardly work of the dark arts, attempted to fell the great Blue Thunder.

But to no avail, for once again the dread sorcerer had obviously failed to
overcome Kunou Tatewaki's indomitable strength of body and spirit, of will
and determination. Yes! Indeed, it was strikingly clear that such a foul
abomination unto the sanctity of all that was beautiful and sacred could
never truly overcome the righteous forces of justice and nobility embodied
in one such as himself!

But still, the pusillanimous swine must truly have summoned forth his most
heinous magics; must have drawn his strength from the very pit of
smoldering brimstone and darkest despair itself, to have rendered the
illustrious Blue Thunder, shining star of the high school fencing world,
in such a state as this.  Kunou Tatewaki struggled mightily to recall the
exact sequence of events that had transpired to convey him to this point,
but strangely, his memories of the recent past, particularly the section
immediately following his departure from his home that morning, were
mysteriously vague; in truth, they were shaded in ambiguity to the point
where he could not discern them even from a passing fancy of the mind, a
fleeting dream of light and shadow.  A dream... 

Something about that notion tugged at the strings of Kunou's memory. 
Vaguely, as the mists of slumber once again began to caress his mind,
Kunou could remember something about a dream; something very important,
and very... No, nothing in this world or any other could shake Kunou
Tatewaki to the point of terror. A samurai fears naught; not even his own
demise! But something still... troubled him; and yet, he could not even
remember what it was. 

Perhaps input from an outside source might bring forth enlightenment. 
Whenever he found himself in this place, there was generally a better than
even chance that Tendou Nabiki was hovering about somewhere, no doubt to
ply her dubiously acquired wares, or perhaps to supply some small snippet
of curious information, at an extravagant fee of course.

Reopening his eyes, with some difficulty, Kunou Tatewaki wearily summoned
the strength to turn his head a bit, so as to search her out.
Unfortunately, it appeared as though he was alone in the room. Thus, his
noble effort wasted, he slumped limply back down onto the stiff, paper
wrapped infirmary bed pillow. After all, though distracting, the piddling
matters of a dream could surely wait until after the great Blue Thunder of
Furinkan High had taken a small respite to rest and regain his strength,
could they not? 

Once refreshed, Kunou Tatewaki would in due time seek out Tendou Nabiki,
that he might resolve this curious lacking of his recollective facilities,
if the error had not corrected itself in that time anyway. And, once
having ascertained the vile deeds wrought upon him by the cretinous
deceiver, Kunou Tatewaki would then surely visit the vengeance of the
heavens themselves upon the demon-spawned Saotome Ranma.

However, there was another small, niggling sense of wrongness that Kunou
Tatewaki could just barely discern through the now all-encompassing shroud
of drowsiness; a rather peculiar feeling, as though the way that the
various aches and pains that he was experiencing transmitted themselves
throughout his weary body was somehow subtly... wrong. Odd. He couldn't
quite put his finger on it, but it mattered not. The light of
comprehension would be cast upon this minor mystery all in due time. With
that final thought in mind, Kunou drifted off into a peaceful and,
thankfully, dreamless sleep.

*****

A cool, damp feeling. Water drizzling down through his hair. 

A voice; loud, and hollow. Another voice; soothing.  Words spoken in low,
murmuring tones. Sounds of shuffling and shifting; of footsteps, and a
door opening and closing.

All of this teased faintly at Kunou Tatewaki's senses, tiny pinpricks of
sensation creeping like a parade of spiders across the silken veil of
sleep.  Slowly, almost lazily, consciousness began to seep back into the
silent hollows of his mind. Questions began to form; simple questions,
asked and answered every morning of his life, to affirm that he was awake
and alive. Who am I?  Where am I? What time is it? 

Lingering still on the comfortable cusp of wakefulness, Kunou drowsily
cracked an eye, a single searing ray of light invading his dark sanctuary. 
The sun was warm on his face, but muted. Rolling his eye towards the
light, he noted absently that a thin white curtain was blocking the room's
single window, filtering the light and rippling slightly in a gentle
breeze.

Water trickled down his temple, lifting heat from his brow as the wind
blew across his face. *Where is this place? How have I come to be here?*
The answers came more easily this time, memories awakening slowly. *I am
in the infirmary. When was I brought here? How long has it been?* These
questions he could not answer himself. *Am I alone?* Opening his other
eye, Kunou tilted his head slightly, scanning the room. *I remember...
voices...*

Blearily, the memory of moments ago surfaced. A hollow, scratchy voice
calling out. 'Nurse Oogawa, please report to the soccer field. Nurse
Oogawa...' Other words, closer, but softer; too quiet to make out.
Probably the nurse, Kunou mused, as the speaker had left immediately
afterward. *I am alone then. What was I going to...?* Straining to recall
the recent past, he tried to remember what he was to do next. *Ah, yes; I
was to seek out Tendou Nabiki, that I might determine my next course of
action.*

Thoughts coming more quickly now, as his brain began to thaw from sleep,
Kunou sat up stiffly, testing his muscles as he supported himself on his
arms.  Throwing back the blanket, Kunou swung his legs off of the bed
sitting up fully and stretching his back and neck. As he did so, a wet
washcloth fell from his forehead and landed in his lap. Kunou lifted it
from his lap quickly, trying to keep it from dampening his pants too much. 
He looked down as he did so.  *Hmmm... what's this?* Something seemed
wrong about what he saw. A pair of large, rounded protrusions were visible
through the damp fabric of his white school shirt. *Wait. Aren't
those...?* Kunou caught a glimpse of his chest through his slightly open
collar. The washcloth fell from his hand, landing quietly on the floor.

He looked away hastily, staring at the comfortingly mundane ceiling. "No. 
Nonononono. Mine eyes doth deceive me, surely, for this which I have seen
cannot be so." Kunou assured himself quickly, an uncharacteristic edge of
panic creeping into his voice. "I need but await the final vestiges of
slumber to vacate mine faculties, and all shall be returned to as it
should be." He looked again. "Perhaps a trifle longer, though assuredly
this cloud upon the senses must lift with little more delay. And yet it
lingers still, almost as though it were a waking dream... a dream..."

His eyes widening in shock, Kunou bolted upright.  Tearing aside the
curtain, he ran across the infirmary with practiced reflexes, coming to a
stop before the sturdy metal basin at the opposite end of the room; the
sink with the mirrored cabinet above it. Staring fearfully into the
mirror, the face that stared back at him was not his own; not his own, but
familiar still. The hazy recollections of a dream snapped into painful
focus as he gazed at the face in the mirror.  Short-cut, straw-colored
hair framed the sharp features of a woman's face; a stern, almost cruel
beauty seeming to mock him from the other side of the glass.

But the eyes were not cruel, not mocking; raw terror shone in those
hauntingly familiar gray orbs. "No... not that..." The eyes were the same. 
The eyes were his own. "It- this cannot..." Kunou's heart raced, his body
trembling as he choked down quick, irregular gulps of air. Reeling in
panic, he wrenched his gaze from the mirror, lowering his head and
gripping the sides of the sink with both hands to keep from collapsing
where he stood.  Images- horrible, sickening images flashed before his
mind's eye. The memory of Saotome Ranma's face transfixed him, as dirty,
invisible hands roamed over his unfamiliar body. *No-just a dream, no-*
Saotome's laughing face leering down at him, as the hands moved down his
abdomen, between his- "N- NO!"  With a final heaving breath, Kunou's
resolve broke. Her legs no longer supporting her, Kunou went to her knees,
retching violently into the sink before her. 

For several minutes Kunou knelt there, silent. Unnoticed, tears dribbled
down her cheeks as she rolled the bitter taste of vomit around in her
mouth. Leaning away from the sink, Kunou wrapped her arms around her body,
shuddering.  A single thought screamed through her mind, over and over
again, dominating her attention. *How...? How has this happened..?* She
could not find the answer. She didn't understand; nothing was making any
sense. *A dream- nay, a nightmare. This must be some horrid fancy of the
mind, nothing more. The pressures of nobility may fell even the most hardy
and steadfast of warriors. Or perhaps sister dear found it to her liking
that I should be the guinea pig for yet another of her vile concoctions at
breakfast this morning.*

But even as she told herself this, Kunou knew that what she was feeling
now couldn't possibly be a dream. The sensations, the warmth of the
sunlight on her face, the bite of bile on her tongue; they were all too
real, too vivid, to be anything but true experience. *B-but how?! There is
naught in the forces extant, born of nature or artifice of man, that might
accomplish such a transconfiguration as this! By the mercy and muse of the
gods themselves, how can this- this- abomination unto my being be so?! 
What dark magics have converged upon me that I should be rendered into
this state?!* As this pleading thought flitted across Kunou's
terror-stricken mind, another notion of the past resurfaced, and things
suddenly fell into place.

"SAOTOME!! By all that is beautiful and divine, why could I not see it
before?! For as surely as the rising sun breaks the morrow's gloom in the
east, and as the gristly tortures of the innumerable hells must begin
again, eternally, at the fall of night, this corruption of form and
function must surely be spawned of the devil himself. And be his name
Saotome Ranma, hark and the angels themselves shall weep at the sound of
swift vengeance, as it flies with my blade into his black heart!!" Newly
galvanized in her resolve, Kunou drew herself back to her feet, wiping a
stray drop of spittle from her lip with the back of her hand. Then,
standing once again, Kunou turned to face the image in the mirror, burning
rage and determination searing away the cold terror and disbelief that
those, his own eyes, had once held. Raising a fist to the heavens, she
cried out. "SAOTOME RANMA!! LET IT BE KNOWN THAT THE VENGEANCE OF HEAVEN
HAS ARRIVED, AND THAT HIS NAME IS KUNOU TATEWAKI, AGE EIGHTEEN, THE BLUE
THUNDER OF FURINKAN HIGH!!!" behind her, visible through the open window
of the infirmary, blazing lightning arced across the clear, cloudless sky,
and the windows of the school shook with heaven's rage.

*****

"DIVINE RETRIBUTION!!" 

A crash rang out through the school yard, and Ranma felt every hair on his
head prick up and stand at attention. Spinning into a ready position, the
pigtailed martial artist turned to face in the direction of the sound. The
sight he was greeted by was not quite what he was expecting, however.

>From the far side of the girl's locker room, across the soccer field, a
puff of dirty gray smoke arose. Then, crawling along the ground, a charred
figure rounded the corner of the building. Several girls watched on in
shock and disgust, backing away reflexively as the figure lifted one
blackened arm and reached for them. Suddenly there was another booming
retort, and a solitary bolt of blue lightning lanced down from the clear
sky and struck the outstretched hand. In the flash of arc-light, Ranma
could just make out the features of the man through the sooty stains that
covered his body. *Sheesh, it's just that Moroboshi creep.* Letting out a
breathy sigh, Ranma shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the
ensuing spectacle. 

The Tomobiki High School soccer team had come to play Furinkan today, and
Moroboshi Ataru had come with them. The soccer game itself had proven to
be little short of a complete farce, with Tomobiki's three forwards doing
almost anything except for watching the ball. Ataru had kept chasing after
one of the others, some guy named Ryuu, while Mendou Shutaro kept getting
distracted by the antics of the pair. Eventually, Mendou had somehow
produced a sword and attacked Moroboshi, who promptly caught the sword
between his palms and fell on his back, flipping Mendou into Furinkan's
goal in the process. Mendou's sword had ruined the net on the goal, and
Mendou himself was carted off of the field unconscious, to be attended to
by Furinkan's resident nurse. Fortunately, the nurse was used to dealing
with unusual injuries such as this, but the game had pretty much been
called off.

Despite his conduct during the game, Moroboshi was apparently very
interested in girls, and Ranma had heard some interesting rumors about the
strange, leering-faced boy; truth to be told, he sounded almost as bad as
Happosai most of the time, and even worse by some sources. Ranma shuddered
at the thought. *Naah, `s not possible. No way he can be worse than the
old freak.* Still, at least some of stories of lechery had been vindicated
by Ataru's presence behind the girl's locker room after the game. If Ranma
remembered correctly, there were several high windows on that side of the
building, to let steam from the showers out.

*But where did that lightning come from? I don't remember any of the girls
at Furinkan being able to do _that_!* A puzzled look crossed Ranma's face
as he mulled over this mystery. *Maybe one of the new freshmen...?*
Ranma's question was soon answered, however, as a green-haired girl
wearing a Tomobiki school uniform floated down from the sky to land in
front of Ataru.  She appeared to be scolding him for a few moments, though
not loud enough for Ranma to hear, and then she picked him up and flew
off, much to the amazement of the watching students.

"Damn Tomobiki weirdoes..." Ranma muttered to himself, as he began to walk
back towards the boy's locker room. As he turned, however, his gaze caught
upon one particular window in the side of the building behind the girl's
locker room. The Furinkan High School Infirmary was in that room. Thinking
back to the racket that the lightning had made, Ranma looked up into the
window from across the soccer field. *I wonder if Kunou's awake yet...*
Frowning slightly, Ranma's thoughts turned back to the series of events
that had transpired that morning, on his way to school.

*****

Almost bubbling over with malicious glee, Ranma-chan bounded away from
Kunou, running around the corner and dashing towards Furinkan high. After
a few meters she stopped abruptly, diving behind a parked car and
crouching down low, where she waited, grinning evilly as she watched the
mouth of the alleyway. She didn't have long to wait, however, as
Kunou-chan staggered out of the alley, calling for her. When Ranma-chan
didn't answer, Kunou-chan abruptly slumped against the alley wall, and
began to examine herself, a confused look on her face. 

As Ranma-chan watched this, she began to notice certain strange things
about how Kunou-chan was moving. Her motions were halting and jerky, as
though she were having some trouble in getting her body to cooperate with
her. It took Kunou several tries to get her shirt open so she could check
her chest, and she even seemed to be having trouble getting a hand into
her pants so she could check her other attributes. This didn't make any
sense to Ranma-chan; even the first time Ranma had been changed into a
girl, she had retained complete control over her new body. After all, it
wasn't like she had been changed into an animal or something; most of the
major parts were still basically the same.

But regardless of whether or not Kunou-chan was taking to her female body
as easily as Ranma had, there was one thing that was the same. The look of
utter shock on Kunou-chan's face, as she finally realized what had
happened to her, made Ranma-chan's blood run cold, as memories of her own
first change returned to torment her. The wicked grin on Ranma-chan's face
faded quickly as Kunou-chan collapsed to her knees as the mouth of the
alleyway, and Ranma-chan had to force herself not to turn away from the
look of horror on the girl's face. When Kunou-chan began to pitch forward,
her eyes rolling up in her head as she fainted, Ranma-chan was there to
catch her before her head hit the ground.

Looking down at the unconscious girl in her arms, Ranma-chan noticed a few
interesting things about Kunou-chan's appearance. True to form, Jyusenkyou
had produced a female version of the pompous jerk. But whereas the face
and features of Ranma's female form were somewhat softer, the lines of
Kunou-chan's face were almost as severe as those of his male form. Subtle
changes made all the difference, it seemed. Strangely, she didn't bear too
much resemblance to her sister, Kodachi. Enhancing the difference was the
dull golden fall of hair that crowned Kunou-chan's head;  an odd
side-effect of the curse, perhaps. In addition to all of this, Kunou-chan
was fully as tall as her male form, making her probably the tallest girl
that Ranma knew.

Taken as a whole, and added to her impressive figure (which, if Kodachi
was any indication, _was_ a hereditary feature of the Kunou family),
Kunou-chan probably couldn't be called "cute" by any stretch of the word. 
Instead, even unconscious, she projected an aura of maturity that struck a
disturbing chord of jealousy in Ranma-chan. *Hmph, what am I thinking!?
This is Kunou, not just some girl from school! He's really gonna suffer
though, looking like that...* A small, malicious smirk returned to
Ranma-chan's face as she recalled why she had cursed Kunou in the first
place. 

She checked to see if Kunou-chan was showing any signs of regaining
consciousness, but the kendoist was out like a light, and didn't respond
to Ranma-chan's jostling at all. A small frown threatened to encroach upon
her amused expression. *Sheesh, it doesn't usually take him this long to
wake up, even when I kick him in the head. Maybe I should smack him around
a bit.* Looking at the pained face of the unconscious girl in her arms,
however, Ranma-chan couldn't bring herself to lift a hand against her. 
Unfortunately, she still had to do something about it. *Maybe I should
bring him to the nurse... After all, it won't be any fun if he wakes up
and decides to just go home. `S not like I'm worried or nuthin...*

Nodding uncertainly to herself, Ranma-chan got back to her feet, easily
hefting the taller girl in a fireman's carry. Then, checking once more to
see if Kunou-chan was waking up, Ranma-chan leapt to the roof of the
nearest house and began to make her way towards Furinkan High.

*****

When the nurse had asked Ranma-chan where she had found Kunou-chan, she
replied that she had found the girl lying unconscious in a alley on her
way to school. After taking one look at Kunou-chan's partially undone
pants and shirt, and her generally disheveled appearance, the nurse had
gotten a _very_ concerned look on her face, and had gently but forcefully
ushered Ranma-chan out of the office, shutting the door behind her. Ranma
had wanted to ask the nurse for some hot water, but thinking again about
the woman's dark, worried expression, she had decided that it could wait.

*Hmmm... I wonder what that nurse's problem was.  Maybe I should go check
on him again...* Ranma scratched the back of his head in indecision, as he
regarded the open window of the infirmary; he assumed that Kunou-chan was
still in there, but he really couldn't tell because of the distance and
because the curtains blocked his view of the inside of the room. He
glanced up as Mendou Shutaro, his head and various other parts of his body
swathed in gauze bandages, hobbled past him into the boy's locker room. *I
know! I'll ask the nurse!* Ranma smiled at his own ingenuity. When he
looked around for her, however, Ranma found that the nurse had left the
field immediately after tending to Mendou's wounds. "Damn. Well, guess I
gotta then..." 

Ranma's deliberations were interrupted by a low grumbling from the region
of his midsection. "Ack- I'll go check _after_ lunch. After all, the nurse
is with him; what could possibly go wrong...?" 

*****

Stalking angrily through the busy halls of Furinkan High School,
Kunou-chan was causing quite a commotion. It wasn't as though new students
were anything unusual at this time of year, though Kunou-chan didn't look
like she was young enough to be a freshman. It wasn't just that she was
attractive, though that was most likely part of it. It wasn't even that
she was plowing through the halls like an enraged beast, roughly shoving
aside students and faculty alike, showing blatant disregard for propriety
or personal space. No, it was a far more disturbing matter which stirred
the attention of the Furinkan High School student body. 

"Has she no _shame_?" Yuka whispered to Sayuri as they stood aside to let
her pass. "Walking around like that, without even wearing a bra; and
wearing a boy's uniform too!"

Sayuri just nodded sagely to her friend as the strange girl stormed by. 
She took a moment to cast a disparaging glance towards a group of boys
standing on the other side of the hall, who were apparently much more
appreciative of the girl's taste in clothing. One of the boys wiped a bit
of drool off of his chin, while another one made a rather lewd gesture,
much to the amusement of the rest.

Turning away in disgust, Sayuri spied something at the end of the hall
that elicited a small gasp of surprise. Her eyes widening, she tapped Yuka
on the shoulder and pointed down the hall. "Looks like it's only going to
get more interesting from here, though."

Looking where her friend was pointing, Yuka blinked, then crossed her arms
and smiled in anticipation. "This should be amusing, to say the least..."

Unfortunately, this entire interesting exchange was completely lost on
Kunou-chan, who barely noticed the people around her as she drove onward
towards her goal. Had she noticed, she probably would have been rather
mortified, and perhaps more than a bit indignant.  Regardless, the leering
boys would have been given something much more pressing to worry about
than her preferred mode of dress. Considering what happened next, it was
probably in the best interests of all parties concerned that Kunou-chan
had not noticed. 

"OOOOOH! STOP RIGHT THERE, YOUNG LADY!!" 

Barely registering the loud, high-pitched cry, Kunou-chan continued
forward until she was distracted by a frantic tugging on her right pant
leg. 

"HEY! DON'T IGNORE YOUR ELDERS! STOP! STOP!!" 

Glancing down in annoyance, Kunou-chan found herself staring down the
barrel of a shiny new 50 yen piece, currently being held by the school's
resident disciplinarian, Ninomiya Hinako. Ms. Ninomiya was currently in
her little girl form, and looking rather flustered on top off that.

Seeing that the Kunou-chan had stopped, Hinako released the girl's pant
leg and backed off a bit, still holding the coin before her in a
threatening manner.  "Now then, what do you think you're doing, walking
around the halls like that?  You're a delinquent, aren't you?!" She
snapped, pointing up at the much taller girl in accusation.

Clearly looking as though she had somewhere else that she had to be,
Kunou-chan looked down at the diminutive disciplinarian with an expression
of irritation. "I do sincerely beg thy pardon, oh honored instructor and
purveyor of justice and order unto this morass of chaos and impunity, but
in what respect of my carriage or conduct have I been remiss?"

Ms. Hinako, as well as everyone else within hearing range, just stood
there, slack-jawed, blank stares of incomprehension stamped on their
faces. Seeing that she was not getting anywhere very fast, Kunou pressed
her inquiry, wording it as simply as she could manage. "If you might be so
kind as to tell me what it is that I have done wrong?" She crossed her
arms expectantly, then frowned, and settled for holding them stiffly at
her sides.

Getting back up to speed, Ms. Hinako growled, and bounced up to
Kunou-chan's feet, gesturing at the other girl's clothes.  "You're not
wearing a school uniform! How can the students have an orderly class
experience if they can't even wear a proper uniform?!" 

Looking down at herself, then looking back up hastily, Kunou-chan fixed
Ms. Hinako with a puzzled, and somewhat testy look. "I can discern no
difficulty that might arise from my attire, fair scholar. Is this not the
appropriate seasonal dress of this fine establishment of primary
education? I do not believe that I have been in any way lax in my
preparations or presentation, even taking into account the somewhat... 
peculiar regulations pertaining to hair length and personal grooming,
unless the rather mercurial disposition of our accursed headmaster has
swayed in favor of the absurd, once again..."

"That's a boy's uniform! Girls are supposed to wear girl's uniforms!" 
Bunching her hands into fists, Ms. Hinako stomped a small foot in
frustration. "Even if you're a transfer student, you have to wear a proper
girl's uniform! If the uniform store was out of your size or something,
you should have worn your old high school's uniform until they got more! 
Wearing a boy's uniform is unacceptable!" Putting one fist on her hips,
Ms. Hinako wagged one finger admonishingly. "If you don't do something
about it, I'll know you're a delinquent! Then I'll have to punish you!"

Gritting her teeth, Kunou-chan clenched her fists until her knuckles
turned white. Closing her eyes, she stood there before the irate teacher
for several moments, stock still, trying to get her breathing under
control. Ms. Hinako looked as though she was going to say something more,
but finally Kunou-chan opened her eyes, turning to stare balefully at the
smaller girl. Ms. Hinako took an involuntary step backward, recoiling from
the rage that had suddenly appeared within Kunou-chan's dark gaze.

"I see," she hissed venomously, through clenched teeth.  "By this
discrepancy, it would indeed appear that I have presented myself in a less
than satisfactory manner. Rest assured, however, that upon the sacred
lifeblood that flows within my veins, by the very pillars which suspend
the glorious heavens above our eyes, which support the blessed firmament
upon which we stand, I swear that this heinous infraction of propriety
shall be remedied with all due haste."  Glaring down upon the cowering
professor, Kunou ground on in a husky, impassioned growl, "Then, if I may
have thy leave, that the matter might be resolved?"

With a final, shaky nod from Ms. Hinako, Kunou-chan surged off down the
suddenly quiet hallway, ashen-faced students almost falling on top of each
other as they attempted to get out of her way. At the other end of the
hall, Yuka and Sayuri looked at each other uncertainly. 

"Sheesh, she looked _pissed_! Who'd have thought that someone could get so
bitter about something as little as a school uniform?"  Yuka wondered
aloud, glancing warily at the retreating form of the strange girl. 

Sayuri just shook her head, a long-suffering look on her face. "The fun
just never stops around here, does it...?"

*****

*Maybe I spoke too soon...*

Sweat began to bead on Ranma's brow as he once again examined the contents
of his bento box. Something was definitely amiss. Perhaps it was the way
that the octopus tentacle sashimi almost looked as though it was fighting
with the rather suspect looking burnt tempura in the next compartment. It
looked like the tempura was winning too, but Ranma couldn't be sure; the
battle seemed to stop every time he focused his attention on it. Frowning,
the hungry martial artist replaced the cover on the bento box, calling an
end to the hastily established cease-fire. Pushing the bento box to the
far end of his desk, Ranma clapped his hands twice and mouthed a silent
prayer for the sashimi, wishing it well in its next life.

*Man, and I was lookin' forward to lunch too...* Ranma's stomach gurgled
plaintiffly, reminding him once again that he had missed breakfast so that
he could catch Kunou on the way to school. Glancing again at the bento
box, which now seemed to be slowly edging its way off of the desk, Ranma
shook his head. *Sorry, but even if I starve to death right here, no food
is supposed to be _that_ exciting.*

"Is something wrong Ranma? Why aren't you eating your lunch?" Looking up
from his reverie, Ranma found Akane leaning over the desk, hands on her
hips, peering at him expectantly. Her facial expression was neutral, but
Ranma swore that he could see a familiar, slightly dangerous gleam in her
eye. "We didn't see you at breakfast this morning, so I would think that
you'd be pretty hungry by now..." Akane let the statement trail off,
unspoken accusations hanging in the air like very large, invisible hammers
floating above the pigtailed boy's head.

Uh oh. "N-now look, Akane, `s not that I'm not hungry or anything, it's
just that, well..." think fast, think fast, don't mention the food, "It's
sick- I mean...  um, _I'm_ sick! Yeah! Uh... I haven't been feeling well
all morning, so I went to doctor Tofu's clinic before school." Nodding
vigorously, another hunger pang struck Ranma, causing him to wince
theatrically. 

For a few moments, Akane's face began to cloud, a dark frown forming on
her lips. *Crap, she's not buyin' it...* Frantically, Ranma scrambled to
think of something else to say, but then suddenly Akane's face split into
a grin that frightened Ranma perhaps just a little bit more than her
previous expression.

Still smiling, Akane put her hands on the bento box and scooted it back
towards the wary martial artist. "Maybe you're just feeling a little weak
because you missed dinner last night. Luckily, I saved you some, so that
you could have it for lunch today." As Akane lifted the lid, Ranma noticed
that the tempura had gained a solid foothold in the rice bed, but the
sashimi was still valiantly holding on, launching a small flanking
maneuver through the pickles.  "I'm sure you'll feel much better after
you've had something to eat." She intoned sweetly, setting a pair of
chopsticks beside Ranma's hand.

Ranma continued to sweat in his seat, staring helplessly back at Akane as
the other shoe dropped. *So that's what it is.* Ranma had yet to partake
of the unique... culinary experience that was Akane's cooking on the
second day. He had always discreetly avoided the many, ominous looking
plastic containers that seemed to congregate at the back of Kasumi's
refrigerator, but now he was beginning to experience a sort of morbid
curiosity. *I wonder what happens if you leave `em alone long enough...*

Before he could really begin speculating upon the possible ramifications
of mayonaise-based civilization (and thus, before he could voice his views
to the anxiously waiting Akane), a loud crash interrupted Ranma's latest
attempt to sate his hunger by eating his own foot. All eyes were drawn to
the front of the room as smoking remains of the classroom door clattered
to the floor, slammed off of their hinges with terrific force. *Shampoo?*

In spite of Ranma's prior experience with this sort of thing, what stomped
through the shattered doorway of the classroom was _not_ the predicted,
bubbly Chinese girl, perhaps carrying a much appreciated delivery of
takeout ramen, but was nonetheless definitely of the amazon persuasion. An
almost palpable aura of menace descended upon the classroom as a lone
figure stalked across the threshold into the room. Charred bits of wood
crunched under her unshod feet as she turned to face the class, her
imperious, hate filled gaze seeming to paralyze all before her as it swept
across the stunned students, turning them to stone like a gorgon of mythic
tales. 

Unlike the tales, however, this creature was in no way hideous of
countenance. Standing slightly hunched in deadly readiness, the
fair-haired girl stood taller than anyone in the room. In face and figure
she reminded more than a few students of Miss Hinako's adult form; indeed
she could almost have been mistaken for an instructor, had she not been
wearing a school uniform- a boy's school uniform! Several of Ranma's male
classmates goggled at the tantalizing amount of chest that showed through
the slightly unbuttoned top of her school shirt.

Most of them quickly regained their senses, however, as their eyes fell
across the unsheathed katana clutched tightly before her, three feet of
naked steel gleaming wickedly in the noonday sun. A few students
recognized the blade as the heirloom sword that usually stood on display
in the assistant principal's office. It was sometimes debated whether it
was there just to impress the students, or if it was there for use in
emergencies, such as if you were unfortunate enough to be waiting to meet
the Big Kahuna himself. 

Regardless, it probably wasn't going to be doing any of them any good in
the hands of the rather upset looking young woman before them. Leveling
the sword in front of her, the girl began to advance slowly in a modified
kenjutsu stance, moving like death on foot as she stalked forth.  Acting
almost instinctively, the students cleared a path through the center of
the room, giving the girl a direct line of sight with a certain
red-shirted, pigtailed martial artist (whom everyone had just _assumed_
was the cause of this little disturbance;  force of habit). In this case,
they were not disappointed.

*****

>From his seat, Ranma peered intently at Kunou-chan, assessing the
situation.  *Hmm, looks like he leapt to _that_ conclusion pretty quick. I
wonder where he found the sword...* Just then, the students standing or
sitting between him and Kunou-chan suddenly seemed to decide that they had
better places to be; they were probably right. For just the smallest
moment, as Kunou-chan finally noticed him, Ranma locked gazes with the
sword-wielding girl. What he saw there made him just a little bit uneasy. 

Under no circumstances could Ranma be considered a good judge of people,
but Kunou-chan's eyes screamed to him like a black wind from beyond the
grave. Hatred, cold and venomous, seethed in those eyes. Barely checked
rage struggled to break its reigns and tear at his throat; understandable
and expected, given the circumstances. But beyond that, deeper than all
the hate and anger, a livid vein of injury pierced that gaze, pain shining
through as vividly as a raw wound lain bare to the sun. Ranma couldn't
remember anyone ever looking at him like that, like he had hurt them so
deeply that they couldn't ever heal; not Akane, not Ryouga, not even
Ukyou. He didn't ever want anyone to look at him like that. 

And yet here they were, staring at each other from across a strangely
silent classroom, as others caught that gaze, and began to wonder. Then,
with a barely audible hiss, Kunou-chan drew a deep breath, and lowered her
hands to her sides, her narrowed eyes lowered to the floor at her feet. 
Releasing the breath, the kendoist's shoulders began to tremble, the
knuckles of her left hand turning white as her grip tightened convulsively
around the hilt of the sword. 

"Saotome Ranma..." 

At these first words, a name, the final outcome of this situation suddenly
became frightfully clear to all those who heard. That quiet voice, somehow
deafening in the silence, held such anger, such dire need, that this
confrontation could end only in violence. 

"Saotome Ranma!" Her voice growing in volume, the girl raised her head to
stare once again stare into his eyes. "There shall be no mercy, no
reprise..." 

The students began to move to the walls of the class, clearing the center
of the room. Akane moved from Ranma's side, keeping a worried eye on the
other girl. No one spoke, a few dared not even to breathe.

"SAOTOME RANMA!" Shouting now, tears of rage and pain fell at Kunou-chan's
feet as she took another step forward. "For what... For what you have done
to me, there shall be no forgiveness! FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME, THERE
SHALL BE ONLY DEATH!" Gesturing wildly, Kunou-chan waved her sword in a
short arc towards the windows on her left. Panicked students covered their
faces and dashed out of the way as half of the windows on that side of the
room shattered from the air pressure alone.

Dashing forward almost too fast to see, Kunou-chan brough her sword in a
straight downward slash toward Ranma's head. Kicking against the floor,
Ranma flipped up and out of his chair just in time to avoid being
bisected, then immediately had to dodge again, as Kunou-chan danced around
his desk, cleaving the air where Ranma's neck had been only a fraction of
a second earlier.

The fight continued in earnest for several more seconds, both fighters
moving with such speed that the other students saw little more than a red
blur and a white blur dancing about the room, a whistling ribbon of silver
flowing and flashing in the air around them as they moved. Aside from
this, the whisper of steel through the wind, the battle was eerily silent.

Suddenly, the blurs resolved themselves into people once again. Kunou-chan
stood at one end of the room, poised for another strike.  Ranma stood at
the other end of the room, watching the kendoist warily. For two
heartbeats, nothing moved. Then, almost lazily, Ranma's desk fell apart; 
it was split cleanly down the middle, and both legs on the right side were
cut off. Even Ranma's lunch box was split in half, not a single grain of
rice disturbed until the halves of the desk parted ways. 

Like the catalyst of a chain reaction, the rest of the room began to come
undone. Desks, schoolbags, books; falling apart like so many pieces of
some demented jigsaw puzzle. Thankfully, all of the other people in the
room still seemed to be whole and healthy, but it looked to be a near
thing. One girl stood on shaking legs, staring in pale-faced terror at a
pile of her own hair that was presently sitting at her feet. On the other
side of the room, a boy hastily grabbed his pants and pulled them back up,
looking for something to replace his belt, which had been sliced straight
though the buckle, missing his abdomen by only millimeters. 

*Wow, he's actually taking this worse than I though he would. And now that
I think about it, this is _definitely_ not the place to be having this
conversation.* Not making any sudden motions, Ranma eyed the empty bank of
windows on his right, leading out into the hall, and the wondows on the
other side of the hall that lead out to the rear field and the pool. 

Remembering a day not _so_ long ago, Ranma heaved a mental sigh.  *Hmm... 
I wonder how he'd react to me turning into his 'osage-no-onna' right now. 
I dunno if I wanna find out.* Noting that there was a small crowd
gathering in the hall outside the room, Ranma considered the other option
of leading Kunou through the halls, and then looked back at the very real
and very sharp blade that the enraged swordsman was swinging at him, and
realized that it wasn't really an option at all. *No choice then. Better
get him out quick though, before the halls get too crowded.*

Locking eyes with, Kunou-chan, Ranma dove for the nearest window, rolling
into the hall and dodging spectators as he bounced to his feet and took
off towards the windows over the pool. Then, risking one final glance back
to see the silver and white blur nipping at his heels, Ranma whipped the
window open and pushed off of the sill, flying out into empty space. 










"The human head's not supposed to hold that much blood!!" 

With a musty creak, the closet door swung open, revealing the bedraggled
forms of Mihrna and Eimii. Both of them were covered nearly head to toe in
blood, and looking rather the worse for wear. Eimii in particular looked
as though she had had an argument with an lawn mower, and had lost. She
also had a rather deranged look in her eye as she reiterated her statement
to the rather tired looking goddess beside her. 

"The human head is just _NOT_ supposed to contain that much _BLOOD_!!!" 

"Eimii," Mihrna replied, spitting out a bit of hair as she dropped the
blood splattered Troy-Built Weed-Whacker she was holding on the top of
Eimii's mattress. "Shut up."