Preview poster (http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/los1.jpg) by -M-
Productions.
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LOS Website at: http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/los.html
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Other works by Susan Doenime, Mike Loader, and Alan Harnum can be found
at: http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/transp.html
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 Please allow me to introduce myself
 I'm a man of wealth and taste
 I've been around for a long, long year
 Stole many a man's soul and faith

 Pleased to meet you!
 Hope you guess my name!
 But what's puzzling you
 Is the nature of my game...
  - The Rolling Stones

	It waited.

	'It' was the best pronoun possible for the being. Male, 
female, those were concepts that didn't mean much to it 
anymore. It barely remembered being human, once, long ago. It 
had been mortal then. Now, however, it was something far 
more. 

	And far less, but the trade was more than fair. It had 
power, and that was worth the loss of a few minor emotions, a 
few human joys. Power was emotion and joy enough.

	Not that mortals were incapable of wielding power. They 
made wonderful tools. Some rare few were even dangerous. And 
an even rarer few were both dangerous and knowledgeable.

	It remembered the day it had found this place in Nerima, 
studied the lines of power and destiny, and settled down to 
wait. The veils were weaker here. Fitting, for it knew the 
district well. It had dwelt here of old.

	They came. Even younger than it had expected, they came.

	And the one called Saotome Ranma shone like a star.

	It had immediately cast its net for the boy. With some 
success, slow and gradual. There was so much to work with, 
such latent power...

	And then things had gone poorly. Because another mortal 
had arrived on the scene, and taken the boy under her 
protection. A very dangerous mortal, and a knowledgeable one.

	She didn't know what the being was, but she knew enough. 
And had made a covenant with him.

	That covenant went like this: leave the boy alone, or be 
driven from this plane.

	It hadn't liked it. But it hadn't had much of a choice, and 
it had gotten a promise out of her to turn a blind eye to its 
other dealings. The kind of promise that you couldn't break 
easily.

	For a long time, it had hoped the dangerous mortal would 
abandon her interest in the boy. But that didn't seem to be 
happening. If anything, the bond between them got tighter.

	And now it was painfully aware that the boy would 
probably be out of its reach forever if things continued this way.

	It had come here for a purpose. That purpose would be fullfilled,
one way or another.

	Even if it wasn't in the way it would have chosen.

***

	Kodachi sat upright in bed, and screamed.

	The dreams, she thought dimly, forcing her breathing to 
come back under control. The dreams again. Getting worse. 
Worse every night.

	Shaking slightly, she fumbled for the bottle of pills on 
her bedside table. The doctor had told her they would help, and 
sometimes they did. The dreams would go away, and she could 
sink back into peaceful, visionless slumber...

	She wished Ranma were with her. Then maybe the dreams 
would go away.

	Swallowing a tablet, Kodachi sunk back into bed, pulled 
up the covers, and waited for sleep.

***

	Ryouga handed Akane a teacup.

	"I love you," Akari told him, accepting the offered cup 
with a smile.

	Ryouga blushed, and Akane... Akari?... giggled.

	The picnic was one of the nicest he'd ever had, and he 
was disappointed to cut it short by waking up. With a 
wistful sigh, he made a mental note to picnic there again - 
this time, in real life.

***

	Ukyou muttered, sighed, and rolled over in bed.

	In her mind, she was talking to Ranma. He was battered 
and bruised from something, worried, but she kissed him and 
his face lightened. She kissed him again, and again, and then he 
held her.

	She smiled slightly as he tightened his embrace.

	And then something reared up behind him, black and 
dreadful, and shoved a katana through his chest.

	Ukyou screamed as blood spurted, and then the blade 
passed through Ranma's body and into hers with a stab of 
agony...

	Her eyes shot open. For a long time, she stared at the 
ceiling, unwilling to go back to sleep.

***

	Kuno smiled. He was the hero, as always. With a happy 
mutter, he slumbered on.

***

	 In a bedroom by the sea, a lean, angular figure tossed 
and turned, remembered pain and humiliation sweeping through 
her dreams, whispering a message to her fitful mind. It is time, 
the sirens purred. You have waited long enough, and it is time. 

	"Yes," she muttered.

***

	Shampoo ran through room after room, looking for 
something. Where was it? It was important...

	"Make use of what comes to hand," Cologne said, chiding. 
"You never know what might be useful. Or who."

	"What do you mean?" Shampoo asked, confused. But her 
great-grandmother was gone, and she was falling, falling...

	The ground rushed up at her, and then she stopped with a 
jerk. A fishing line, barbed hook attached to it, had snared the 
back of her shirt.

	"Never know who you can use, never know who your 
friends are, never know what might be useful, never know who 
may be your ally, never know who may be your enemy...."

	"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" she screamed.

	Then the line snapped, and the ground again flew at her, 
faster, faster, and she shrieked....

	And sat up.

	Frowning, wiping the sweat off her forehead, Shampoo 
went back to sleep.

***

	In a forest, his head pillowed on a bear's pelt, Mika the 
Raven slept. He had a nightmare. 

	"Nice try," he said, and shot it.

***

	Akane watched as the new girl, Ranma, squared off in the 
dojo. She would go easy on her at first; Ranma seemed a bit 
shy.

	Her first attack was effortlessly brushed away. So was 
her second.

	Akane ran forward, kata after attack after feint pouring 
out of her. She used every attack she could think of, even 
managed to raise a small ball of ki to blast at the newcomer 
with.

	Ranma looked bored.

	"Clumsy," the new girl pronounced.

	Kasumi and Nabiki nodded agreement. "Very clumsy. Take 
good care of her. She's helpless."

	"I am NOT!" she screamed back, preparing another attack.

	Ranma smiled unpleasantly. "Cheh, ugly chick. Why don't 
you just get the hint and leave me alone?"

	He darted at her. Akane hands raised to block, and then 
his foot slammed into the side of her neck. There was a 
horrible snapping sound, and she felt herself crumple.

	"See?" she dimly heard him say as she choked, trying 
vainly to breathe through her crushed throat. "Do you see now, 
Akane?"

	Her lungs were on fire, she couldn't move, she couldn't 
breathe, blood was choking her...

	"Do you finally see?"

	Akane bolted upright, a strangled sob ripping free from 
her mouth. It was a long time before she went back to sleep.

***

	Ranma watched Akane writhe on the ground in front of 
him. "Do you finally see?" he repeated.

	Akane stared at him, blood pouring from her mouth, eyes 
horrified and confused.

	There was blood on his foot. He had broken her neck with 
a swift five-stance flying kick. He had learned it when he was 
eight.

	Akane gave a final, bubbling gurgle, convulsed, and then 
was still. Ranma walked over to her, knelt beside her.

	"Do you see?" he repeated. "I love you. Why can't you see?"

	Her eyes stared, glassy and still, at the moonlight.

	Had he just killed her?

	What had he just done?

	Akane?

	He stumbled backwards, shrieking. There was blood on 
his hands, on his feet, Akane's blood, he killed her....

	Ranma bolted upright, a strangled sob ripping free from 
his mouth. It was a long time before he went back to sleep.

***

	It stirred and rose, then, in the fortress of shade and 
shadow rising from the black-on-grey-on-white of the 
Gloaming, the photographic negative of the mortal world. It 
mirrored the sunlit Nerima, save in the places where the 
being's will had altered it. The real Nerima didn't have a 
twisted citadel looming above it, towers and battlements 
clawing towards the sky. For the Gloaming was less static 
than the world of mortals, more responsive to the demands of 
those with power, and the dark hold of Spiredeep had been 
raised in an instant from the blueprint of the being's soul.

	It strode through the halls and corridors, past the 
trembling servants that it had pressed into service. Some were 
natives of the shadow realm, some had been captured and 
wrenched from other planes, and a rare few were mortals, 
trapped in an unending nightmare. Pitiful things, but useful. If 
nothing else, the delicious sense of fear that they exuded 
filled the citadel with a atmosphere pleasant to the being. 

	The path it took was followed by other eyes, too. Black 
shapes slipped to and fro, using the ceilings as highways and 
the walls as alleys, for Spiredeep had been built to a geometry 
that would have disturbed MC Escher. There were the servants, 
who were there to be afraid. And then there were the soldiers, 
who where there to inspire fear. It had built them, too; formed 
them from the stuff of the Gloaming or fused a hapless being 
into a more suitable form.

	It swept down endless stairs - truly endless, for it was 
a simple trick to build in the infinite, here in the Gloaming - 
and emerged at a chamber at ground level. Formed an image in 
its mind. Projected, pierced the veil. Stepped, with a part of 
its essence, into the mortal world.

	It looked around the room it found itself in, the 
comfortable, sunlit, cheery room, smiled slightly, and walked 
out to stand on the porch.

	Ranma soon strolled past, as it had known he would, 
shopping bag full.

	"Hi, Ranma!" it said in an easy, familiar fashion, smiling, 
once more eying the ebb and flow of his ki with a covetous 
hunger. Such a potential slave...

	Ranma grinned back, and waved.

	No, Ranma was now no-one's slave. His will was too 
strong, his confidence too absolute. And now he was dangerous, 
at least in this world. The being could tear his soul to shreds 
with a thought if they both stood in the Gloaming, but in the 
sunlit Nerima Ranma had the edge. For now.

	Soon. Very soon.

	Maybe this one would be even better...
----------------------------------------------------
* Last One Standing * by Mike Loader *
----------------------------------------------------
* All R1/2 characters and situations are the creations
and Property of Takahashi Rumiko, and are used without
her knowledge or permission, either explicit or implied.
No challenge or claim can or should be percieved to the
validity of any copyrights from the posting of this work.
Please do not reprodouce this work in a public forum 
Without permission from the author. *
----------------------------------------------------
Canto 1 - Hooks and Lines


 Hello, don't you know me
 I'm the dirt beneath your feet
 The most important fool you forgot to see
 I've seen how you giveth
 Now I want you to receive
 I'm sure that you would do the same for me
 I know I'm heading for the bottom
 But I'm riding you all the way
 - Soundgarden


	Akane trudged home, her bookbag dangling limply from 
one hand. It hadn't been a good day.

	Because of Ranma, of course.

	Oh, it wasn't all his fault, she silently admitted. She 
should have learned by now that his teasing only got worse 
when she let it get to her and snapped back. And she really did 
try... but it was hard.

	So they had exchanged the typical round of insults. He 
hadn't really scored, and she didn't land a blow, but it was 
enough to start her day off on the wrong foot.

	Ranma, of course, didn't seem to care. The fights didn't 
upset him... not unless he got clobbered.

	The usual routine in class had taken the edge off the 
teasing, and by the time she left things almost felt normal 
again. And then Shampoo had to show up.

	Akane sighed. Ukyou she didn't mind. Ukyou was a friend, 
and was Ranma's friend as well. The okonomiyaki chef could 
still get her jealous, but she didn't exude the same kind of 
threat that Shampoo did. She got the impression that Ranma 
was only vaguely aware that Ukyou was female, and that he 
preferred it that way.

	More importantly, Akane suspected she could take Ukyou 
if they fought. She might lose - would probably lose, actually - 
but Ukyou would be a mass of bruises and deep hurting by the 
end of it.

	Shampoo, on the other hand, would very likely wipe the 
floor with her. If Akane managed to get in a hit or two, she 
would count herself lucky.

	So when Shampoo did pick a fight after Akane had rather 
loudly objected to the Amazon nuzzling Ranma in public, she 
had known she was going to lose, and lose badly. She had 
mostly been hoping that Shampoo would settle for just beating 
her into unconsciousness instead of doing something really 
unpleasant.

	But what was she supposed to do? Run away? Leave 
Ranma and Shampoo there to laugh at the clumsy little tomboy 
coward?

	No. Better to get beaten up.

	But she hadn't been.

	She hadn't been because Ranma had stepped in after a few 
seconds, and chidingly told Shampoo not to pick on her. And 
Shampoo's face had slid into a smile of contempt, and with a 
few sentences she had agreed that it wasn't fair to pick on 
such a weakling. And then the bimbo had rubbed herself on 
Ranma again, and skipped off.

	Ranma had expected her to thank him.

	Akane had barely kept control of herself. She was 
surprised that she had managed to merely choke a few 
unintelligible words, turn on her heel, and storm off.

	It wasn't fair.

	Shampoo was better than her at everything. Better body. 
Better cook. Much better martial artist. And Ranma... Ranma 
liked her.

	Akane's head drooped. He did like Shampoo, liked her more 
than just as a friend. The whole reversal jewel episode had 
made that pretty clear; he had practically been falling all over 
himself to get the Amazon to love him again.

	She wouldn't mind if it weren't for the fact that she 
loved him.

	Akane didn't know exactly when she had first admitted it 
to herself. She tried to deny it as much as she could. But denial 
could only take you so far.

	No. She was in love with Saotome Ranma. He would never 
know, because she didn't think that she could stand to see his 
reaction. Embarrassment, perhaps, or incredulity. Mild disgust. 
She wanted him to think highly of her... the few bits of praise 
he had given felt so good... she didn't think she could bear him 
discovering that the clumsy gorilla actually loved him.

	Oh, there were times when she had almost broken down, 
almost told him. Sometimes she could fool herself into 
thinking that maybe he did feel something for her beyond an 
odd sort of familial affection. He would comfort her in his 
awkward way, or fight for her... say that she was his, and she 
would be so proud, feel so special...

	And then reality would interrupt, and the simple truth 
was that Ranma was possessive enough and competitive enough 
to fight for anyone. And kind enough to occasionally be nice to 
the macho tomboy when she was really down. She was as 
special as dirt.

	Well, she thought ruefully, maybe a bit more special than 
that. Trust Ranma to bring her spirits crashing. He raised them, 
too. It was always up and down with him, with all too few 
moments of stability.

	She was almost home, now, and did her best to compose 
herself. He was an idiot. Who cared what he thought? Who 
cared about that bimbo Shampoo?

	By the time she walked in the door, she had once again 
almost convinced herself that she didn't love him.

	She was nearly to her room when she spotted Nabiki, 
leaning in graceful insolence against the doorframe. She 
wished she could stand like that, do that sort of pose. Her 
sister had a very familiar look on her face. It was the look of 
Nabiki about to have some fun.

	"What?" Akane asked, bluntly. She didn't feel like playing 
Nabiki's games at the moment.

	Nabiki gave her a half-amused, half-sympathetic look. 
"Ranma give you grief again today?"

	"Who cares?" she said, knowing very well that Nabiki 
wasn't fooled in the slightest. "He kept Shampoo from giving 
me a beating. I suppose I should be grateful."

	Her sister shrugged, the smile slipping a bit. "Maybe you 
should. He probably didn't do it very well, but Shampoo's done 
some pretty frightening things to you in the past."

	"She just wanted to show that she was better than me. It 
would have hurt a bit. Nothing serious."

	"You're a masochist, little sister." Nabiki's smile grew 
wider. "So's Ranma. Look what was in the mailbox this 
morning."

	Akane took the offered envelope, and unfolded it. Inside 
was a pale blue piece of cheap writing paper, the kind found in 
kiosks and cheap stationary stores across Japan. The writing 
was in a cramped but legible hand.

	// Two years have passed for both of us, and the defeat 
you gave me still rests heavily on my honor. Especially since 
you ran off without a trace afterwards. Come to the pond at 
Tai Park today at seven, and be prepared to fight. You will find 
I am not so easy a match as I was at fourteen. And perhaps I 
can give you a taste of what you so kindly left me with. //

	Akane shook her head. "Did he spend every waking minute 
on the road either getting in fights, pissing people off, or 
making stupid promises?"

	Smirking, Nabiki took back the letter. "That's our Ranma. 
Half of Japan wants to kill him, and the other half is engaged 
to him."

	"I think I fit into both of those camps," Akane said sourly.

	"Oh, chill. You know exactly what's going to happen. 
Ranma will fight this guy, retreat, then come back and kick his 
ass. And I'll make a tidy profit off handling the bets."

	"I suppose." Of course, it could also be that after an 
initial defeat, the _girl_ would fall madly in love with him and 
join the Saotome Ranma Fan Club. They should have weekly 
meetings and membership cards, and Akane and Ukyou could 
take turns being the chairman.

	Nabiki poked her in the side. "Cheer up. You'll have a good 
night's sleep, Ranma will get pounded and do some pounding, 
and everything will look better in the morning."

	She smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah. Thanks, Nabiki."

	"No problem. Do you want to give the letter to Ranma, or 
should I?"

	Chuckling, Akane raised both hands. "You do it. Just make 
sure I'm there to watch."

***

	"Aw, man...."

	Ranma stared at the letter, gave a put-upon sigh, and 
absently scratched his head. Who the hell could this be?

	"Well, Ranma?" drawled Nabiki. "What's the story this 
time?"

	"I'm thinking, gimme a sec." Couldn't be that guy in 
Shanghai, he had been two years older than Ranma. The Kyoto 
Eel-Dancer had been a little over three years ago, so she was 
out... the pickle vendor on Okinawa was the right age and time, 
but that wasn't so much a defeat as theft... he didn't think that 
the Monkey Lords of Mu knew how to write... maybe the Siamese 
Twins of the school of Martial Arts Defenestration? Right time 
period, right age, humiliating defeat... but wouldn't they have 
said 'we' instead of 'I' in the letter?

	He saw Akane roll her eyes slightly. "You honestly don't 
remember, do you."

	"Well, I might," he said defensively. "I just need to 
narrow down who it is. I mean, me an Pop met a lot of people."

	"I suppose 'met' is one word for it," Nabiki said archly.

	Ranma winced. "Hey, it's not my fault if people get all 
touchy over little things."

	"Like abandoning Ukyou to be humiliated, left without a 
livelihood, and forced to dress as a boy?" Akane asked sweetly.

	Okay, that hurt. "I didn't know she was a girl!" he said, a 
wounded tone entering his voice. "I didn't know we were 
engaged, and I didn't know Pop stole the damn yattai! It wasn't 
my fault!"

	"I suppose so," Akane cheerfully agreed. "You can't really 
be blamed for being slightly less perceptive than pig iron."

	Funny that she should mention 'pig' and lack of perception 
in the same sentence, he thought darkly. "Hey, I'm gettin' 
better. I can usually tell you an P-Chan apart now, most of the 
time. Though I did kinda call Katsunishiki 'Akane' a few times 
before I caught on..."

	Akane's lips narrowed. Oh yeah, he remembered belatedly, 
she was still ticked about that thing with Shampoo.

	He could sorta understand that... he'd be a bit upset if 
someone broke up one of his fights... but it wasn't like Akane 
was a real martial artist or anything, and Shampoo would have 
cleaned her clock! She shoulda been glad, real glad that he had 
kept her from getting hurt.

	But no, instead she just stormed off. Cheh. He didn't 
understand her sometimes.

	Her annoyed expression thinned, turned into one of 
resignation. Ranma winced. He liked seeing her happy, and to a 
certain extent he liked seeing her mad... she was beautiful 
either way, and both had the things he really loved about her in 
them. But he didn't like seeing Akane looking beaten. 

	"So who's here to kill you this time?" she asked idly, 
picking at her sleeve.

	Good question, that. "I think it might be this guy I knew 
in Kyushu, down south. That was two years ago, he was my age, 
and I certainly handed him a defeat." He frowned. "But he 
wasn't so good, not that good at all. Heck, you were better than 
him."

	"Really?" Akane said softly.

	"Oh, yeah, sure!" he said, warming to the subject. "He was 
pretty bad. You'd probably twist him into a pretzel."

	She didn't look terribly happy at that, he noted with some 
disappointment. Try to compliment her... geez. Women.

	"If it is him, I shouldn't be too long. I don't think he 
coulda built himself into a challenge in two years, not unless 
he was studyin' under someone like the old ghoul every waking 
moment." Which wasn't terribly likely. He had improved so 
much in the past year that it still amazed him a bit... not just 
in gaining flashy, powerful techniques like the Hiryu Shoten Ha 
and the Moko Takabisha, but in speed, strength, reaction time, 
analysis, endurance. He had never dreamed he could be this 
good, and he still kept finding opponents who could bring him 
to the verge of defeat. Best to keep cautious.

	"Don't get too cocky." There was a note of concern mixed 
with the irritation in Akane's voice. "You're not invincible, you 
know. Go get this guy, but... just be careful, okay?"

	Ranma gave her a confident smile. It made him feel kinda 
good that she worried about him... lots of times he just didn't 
know how she felt. She was so important to him, but he just 
didn't know how to treat her sometimes. The only other person 
who he felt the same kind of bond with was his Pop, and Ranma 
kept slipping into the same sort of give-and-take that he used 
with Genma. And it didn't seem to work nearly as well with 
Akane.

	"I'll be careful," he told her. "People have surprised me 
before. Look at Ryouga; went from strong and slow into a real 
martial artist in just a few years." That had been a shock; he 
had barely remembered the Lost Boy, certainly never counted 
him as a tough opponent.

	Akane nodded, a slight trace of concern still flickering 
around her eyes. "All right. You usually come out of these 
things okay, and you certainly can't just not show up."

	"Why?" Nabiki asked. Ranma gave her a puzzled look, and 
noticed Akane was doing the same. Heh, Akane wasn't _that_ 
different from him. Just different enough to confuse him.

	"It's a matter of honor," he explained patiently. "You gotta 
show up if it's a matter of honor." Akane nodded in agreement.

	Nabiki gave the two of them bemused looks. "Yup. 
Masochists."

	"It's a martial artist thing," he said, idly wondering what 
a masochist was. "You gonna come watch, Akane?"

	She hesitated, thought for a second, and then shook her 
head. "That's okay. If this guy isn't much of a fighter, I'd rather 
just stay here. I've got a lot of homework to get done."

	Ranma nodded, slightly disappointed. "Okay. Well, I've got 
a while before I gotta meet him... mind if we work on it 
together? You're better at that kinda stuff than I am."

	"Sure. Come on up to my room, and we'll get to work."

	As they trooped up the stairs, Ranma wished she didn't 
think he was stupid. Maybe he was, compared to her. He was 
truly afraid that some smart, literate type would catch her 
eye, and then... aw, hell. What could she ever see in someone 
like him? He just had to keep trying... but not too hard, because 
lord knows what she'd do if she ever found out how he really 
felt about her.

***

	Tai Park was only a few blocks from the Tendo residence, 
and a fairly large recreation area by Tokyo standards. Wooded 
stands of trees and slight hills kept the line of vision to a 
minimum, and created the illusion that the park was bigger 
than it was, more remote. In the center of it was a decent-
sized pond, a tiny island rising from the rough middle of it for 
decoration.

	It was really too small to use for boats, even for a 
rowboat or a raft. But there was a small wooden dock at one 
corner anyway, with benches and a railing. Would-be fishermen 
often set up their lines there; although since the pond didn't 
have many fish, they usually went home emptyhanded.

	Ranma arrived slightly before seven. If there was one 
thing he tried to be punctual about, it was fighting.

	The person he was expecting, however, didn't seem to be 
there.

	He waited a good ten minutes past seven, made a slow 
circuit of the pond, and then eyed the figure sitting on the 
dock's rail with a certain amount of puzzlement.

	She was perhaps the most unlovely girl he had ever seen, 
gaunt and wiry, sitting on the top rail with her knees drawn up 
against her chest. She was tanned, but it was the rough, 
weatherbeaten tan of someone who spends a lot of time out in 
the sun and the wind, making her look, if possible, even more 
of a scarecrow. Ranma was quite certain he had never seen her 
before in his life, and the sullen, brooding scowl she was 
giving the patch of water opposite her certainly didn't make 
him eager to make her acquaintance.

	In fact, the only thing that made him think that she was 
anything other than a bystander was the long pole she was 
leaning on, between her rather scabby knees. The pole with the 
nasty looking hook at the end of it.

	Boat hook, he guessed, and the clothing she was in looked 
like something that you'd find on the fishermen in the north 
and west of Japan. Not from around here, and he doubted that 
she was planning on using that pole to snag boats.

	Hesitantly, he stepped onto the dock. The girl allowed a 
fraction of her blank gaze to slip in his direction, and he 
noticed a white scar under one eye, between the left corner 
and the ear. Fairly nasty cut, he guessed.

	"Er, hi," he said awkwardly. 

	Her head turned slightly, eyes regarding him like a 
particularly annoying insect. 

	"Uh, did you send that challenge?" He was feeling a bit 
uncomfortable, which bothered him. And he was absolutely 
sure he'd never seen this girl before in his life.

	She gave a short nod. The interest in her gaze seemed to 
move up a notch, upgrading him from insect to minor nuisance.

	Ranma waited a few highly awkward seconds, then 
decided he'd had enough. "Well, okay then! If you wanna fight, 
let's fight!"

	The girl blinked slowly. "Who th'hell are you?"

	This was really unfair, Ranma thought. "I'm Saotome 
Ranma. Uh."

	The coatrack shoulders gave a slight shrug. "Never heard 
of you. Why you wanna fight me?"	

	Ranma felt his teeth grind in frustration. "If you've never 
heard of me, why'd ya send me a letter of challenge?"

	Another blink, slow and deliberate. Ranma felt the stare 
mentally devalue him back to insect level.

	"I sent th'letter to Tendo Akane," she said, a hint of 
irritation creeping into the calm indifference. "She gonna 
show, not?"

	He stared at her with incredulity. "You sent a letter of 
challenge to Akane?"

	A curt nod.  He was beginning to get the feeling that he 
was rapidly losing her interest.

	"Tendo Akane? Strong chick, kinda macho?" This had to be 
some sort of misunderstanding. Who the hell would call a duel 
of honor with Akane, for crying out loud?

	This time he didn't even get a nod. She had apparently 
decided he didn't rate body movement, let alone words.

	"Okay, uh, well, I'll tell her. If she decides to show, she 
can come by at seven tomorrow, okay?" Unless things were 
cleared up by then, anyway.

	"Make her show." The tone implied that whether he did or 
not was really of very little import.

	"Yeah, sure. Bye." He somewhat gratefully turned to leave, 
and was struck by a sudden thought. "Hey. What name should I 
give her?"

	The girl stared idly into the water of the pond, the 
brooding, sullen gaze seeming to look through it. "Tetsuko. 
Anjin Tetsuko."

	"Right. Uh. Bye."

	Ranma loped off, a mixture of bemusement, confusion, 
and vague disquiet in his head. Behind him, Tetsuko sat 
motionless on the rail, her patient, fixed study of the water 
seeming to drown out his departure.

***

	Nabiki was lounging in the front room when he returned. 
"That was quick," she said curiously, looking him over. "Doesn't 
look like there's a mark on you, either. The guy a pushover?"

	Ranma scratched his head. "I don't know. We didn't fight."

	One of Nabiki's eyebrows arched. "No fight? That's a 
first."

	"Heh. Yeah, and here's another one. That letter wasn't for 
me."

	"Not for you?" Nabiki blinked. "What, is Ryouga using this 
place as his mailing address?"

	"Nope," he told her, allowing a bit of the confusion he 
was feeling to show. "Apparently it's for Akane."

	"You're joking."

	He shook his head. "No joke. Some weird chick was 
waiting at the park, sulked at me, and finally told me that she 
was here to fight Akane. Looked like she meant it, too."

	Nabiki shook her head. "Has to be some kind of mistake. 
Akane isn't like you people; she doesn't wander around Japan 
getting into adventures and stealing things. Who'd want to get 
revenge on her?"

	"That was kinda what I was wondering," Ranma 
confessed. "Mebbe it's some completely different Tendo 
Akane?"

	"Mistaken identity? Could be." She scowled. "Did this girl 
look dangerous, Saotome?"

	Ranma opened his mouth, hesitated, then shrugged. 
"Dunno. She was skin and bones, but everything on her looked 
like muscle. Didn't move from her perch on that rail, so I don't 
know what her speed is like. She had a mean-lookin' hooked 
pole, which is either good or bad."

	Nabiki stared at him. "Ranma, what could possibly be 
good about a pissed-off person having a sharp hook?"

	He gave a short chuckle. Nabiki might be smart, but she 
didn't know much about the Art. "Weapons are a crutch, Nabiki. 
At the upper levels they're usually more trouble than they're 
worth unless you're really, really good with them - and if you 
are, then you get into a sorta weapon mentality when fighting, 
and can't do much without it. Look at Ucchan; she can kick 
major ass with that spatula of hers, but she's dependent upon 
it. Akane or Kodachi would wipe the floor with her if they 
could just disarm her, which is a bad weakness for a martial 
artist. It's the same with Kuno. Weaponmasters are usually no 
match for an expert at unarmed combat, simply because they 
aren't as flexible."

	Looking somewhat dubious, Nabiki nodded. "Okay... you 
should know, I guess. So why is it maybe bad?"

	"There's a couple reasons." He winced; the more he 
thought about this, the less he liked it. Akane getting into a 
fight with an unknown quanity who actively wished her ill was 
not a pleasing prospect. "First off, the weapon-dependance rule 
isn't always the case. Ryouga and Shampoo both use different 
weapons in their styles; Ryouga has that damn umbrella and 
can turn his underwear or socks into a deadly weapon, and 
Shampoo uses bonbori and swords. They're pretty good with 
them... but disarm them, and they're just as good, only in a 
different way. For them, weapons are an option, not a crutch."

	"And that might be the case here?" Nabiki asked, her 
brow creasing.

	Ranma shrugged. "Dunno. People like that are kinda rare; 
most real martial artists either rely heavily on weapons or 
only use em when we have to. And she seemed kinda intense, 
detached, almost Zen; that's real common with weaponmasters. 
They contemplate their navel or picture the color of one hand 
clapping until they're one with the universe or the blade or 
whatever mystic bullcrap they're using. Makes em real good, 
but it also makes em forget that the outside world exists - and 
so they're real easy to surprise if you don't fight the way they 
expect you to. Anything-Goes is that kind of fighter's worst 
nightmare."

	"Sounds promising so far."

	"Yeah, that wasn't the major bad point."

	She sighed. "Okay, so what's the major bad point?"

	"Weapons are dangerous," he said bluntly. "You need 
training and skill to hurt someone with your body, and that 
training and skill usually gives you precise control over what 
you're doing. Weapons are different. You couldn't kill me with 
your fists in a million years, but if you got lucky once you 
could shove a katana right through my heart, and I'd be dead. I'd 
just need to slip up once. Maces and heavy stuff are bad enough, 
but sharp blades... one good cut across a major artery, and 
you're dead. Unless the bleeding is stopped right away and you 
get immediate medical attention, you'll die."

	Nabiki nodded her head, a look of concern rapidly creeping 
across her face. "Yeah, I'd call that a bad point."

	"Amateurs with a sword or a knife are my worst 
nightmare," he said, a rueful tore creeping into his voice. "They 
do things exactly the way everyone knows you shouldn't, which 
happens to be exactly what an expert usually doesn't expect. 
Don't get me wrong; 99.9 times out of a hundred I'd walk away 
without so much as messin' up my shirt. It's just that last .1% 
that scares me."

	"What about Akane?"

	He gave a short chuckle. "Akane isn't as fancy as me. Ever 
watch her fight? She's a perfectionist; a bit conservative, 
tries to get the most effect out of the least movement. It 
means she isn't as good as she could be, but it's also a lot 
safer than my way of doing things. Mebbe she won't exploit a 
tiny opening, but she won't get caught off guard by anything 
unexpected, either. She's prolly less likely to get hurt than I 
am, at least up to a certain skill level."

	Nabiki nodded. "And past that level?"

	"Past that level, safety means winning as rapidly as you 
can, because you're just waiting for the other to make a 
mistake. It really depends on how much this chick wants to 
hurt Akane; if she wants to kill her or cripple her, then Akane 
had better be the superior fighter. Because in cases like that, 
how much damage gets done usually depends on how much 
damage the better martial artist wants done."

	Nabiki gave an uneasy chuckle. "In a way, that almost 
makes me feel better."

	He blinked. "Huh?"

	"Easy. From what you've been saying, if Akane's the 
better martial artist she isn't that likely to be hurt, right?" 
When he nodded in the affirmative, she shot him a triumphant 
smirk. "And if this girl's better than her, then she isn't likely 
to hurt Akane very badly. I mean, it's not like she was running 
around killing people before you arrived."

	"Are you sure?" he asked jokingly. She seemed to almost 
kill him pretty regularly...

	Nabiki gave him a mock-glare. "Unlike SOME people, Akane 
was a pretty well-behaved kid. She didn't start any bread 
feuds, or sell the dojo in a card game, or steal a yattai, or... 
well, you get the picture. She just went to school and 
competed in Kempo tournaments. I can't think of any reason 
why this person would even want to fight Akane, let alone 
really hurt her."

	Ranma gave a slight shrug. "Some people don't need that 
much. Look at Ryouga; tryin' to kill me over bread..."

	"Ranma, Ranma, you and I both know he's not trying to kill 
you over bread," Nabiki purred. "He's almost as much of a 
hydrophobe as you are."

	He stared at her, an uneasy feeling building in the pit of 
his stomach. "How much do you know, Nabiki?"

	"Enough. Don't worry; I'll keep your little secret. For 
now."

	The uneasy feeling settled down to take up housekeeping. 
"Okay. What do you want?"

	She chuckled. "Nothing, right now. I'll call it in when I 
need a big favor."

	Ranma glared at her. "You can really be a pain in the ass, 
Nabiki."

	Smirking, she nodded. "True. Look at the bright side; at 
least I never try to kill you. Now, how 'bout we go tell my 
little sister that she has a fan?"

	"Sure." He chuckled; for once the shoe was going to be on 
the other foot. "Y'know, if she ain't in any danger, I'm gonna 
enjoy the hell out of this."

	"Be nice, now."

	The two strolled upstairs, quickly making their way to 
Akane's room. Ranma hesitated at first, staring uncertainly at 
the wooden duck bearing Akane's name in English letters. "You 
wanna tell her, or should I?"

	Nabiki seemed to find this funny for some reason. "I've 
done this once today. Your turn."

	Sighing, he knocked. "Yo, Akane?"

	"Come in!"

	They entered. Akane was sprawled on the bed, a textbook 
on her chest. "Fight go well?" she asked, glancing up.

	In answer, Ranma just tossed her the piece of paper. "As 
it turns out, this is for you."

	Akane's jaw dropped. "M..me?"

	He smirked. "Ayup. Looks like I'm not the only one to 
offend a few people."

	She stared at the piece of paper, and Ranma thought he 
began to see a look of recognition forming behind her eyes. "So. 
Who is it?"

	Shrugging, he moved a bit closer to the bed. "Scrawny 
chick named An..."

	"...jin Tetsuko," Akane finished, a flat tone creeping into 
her voice. "Figures."

	Nabiki shot her sister an incredulous glance. "Akane, how 
do you know this person? I'm fairly sure I kept tabs on every 
friend you've had since grade school."

	Akane gave a sour laugh. "She's not a friend, and I didn't 
meet her in school. Remember the beach vacation in southern 
Hokkaido two years back?"

	"Yeah... I still don't remember anyone named..."

	Smirking, Akane turned to Ranma. "Oneesan had just 
grown boobs, and was busy trying to show everyone male how 
good she looked in a swimsuit. I could have gotten into a blood 
feud with Rodan the Flying Monster and she wouldn't have 
noticed."

	Nabiki's eyes bulged, and she sputtered indignantly. 
Ranma grinned. Point for Akane, he mentally tallied.

	"Since I wasn't at the boy-luring stage yet..."

	"And you still aren't," Nabiki muttered, shooting her a 
black look.

	"...I just wandered around, played in the sand, collected 
shells, and made friends with some of the local kids."

	"I remember this part," Nabiki said. "The local kids liked 
to push the summer people's children around. Fishing boat 
types, pretty rough. Akane made friends with them by 
demonstrating that she could beat the spit out of them if she 
wanted to."

	Akane smiled slightly. "They were actually pretty nice; 
you just had to prove that you weren't a wimp. And that usually 
involved not being beat up."

	Shaking his head, Ranma waggled a finger at her. "Geez, 
and you say I've got a violent past..."

	Looking somewhat embarrassed, she shrugged. "There 
weren't really any hard feelings. It was all in fun."

	"So that's why this Tetsuko person is after ya?" Ranma 
asked, a bit of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "Because of 
somethin' all in fun, with no hard feelings?"

	Akane shook her head. "Tetsuko was different. She didn't 
beat up the tourist kids."

	"Nicer than that?" Nabiki asked.

	"No, she just wasn't social enough to make friends like 
that. I think she spent most of her time on the boats, working 
or training or something. She was the local champion."

	Her sister blinked. "She wasn't social enough to make 
friends by beating people up?"

	"I believe it," Ranma said with feeling. "She had all the 
charm of a cobra."

	"She spent most of her time on the boats," Akane 
continued, "but I'd bump into her occasionally. She didn't like 
me, and I didn't like her."

	"Any reason why?" Nabiki asked curiously.

	Akane shrugged. "I thought she was an arrogant, 
antisocial thug who wasn't as good as me. She probably thought 
the same about me, I guess. Apparently she was a bit of a local 
legend; best martial artist of her age on the coast. She didn't 
really play much with the other kids, and that only seemed to 
make them... I don't know... a bit more awestruck. Like that she 
was unbeatable. Then I came along, and made friends, and 
before long the kids were wondering if I could take her."

	Ranma shook his head. "I see where this is going."

	"It was sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess," Akane 
said, a rueful tone creeping into her voice. "By the end of the 
summer, everyone assumed there was going to be a duel, 
including us. So there was."

	"And you won?" Ranma asked.

	"Barely. It wasn't the hardest fight I've ever had - 
obviously the ones I've lost to you and Shampoo were tougher - 
but it was the longest, and the most touch-and-go. We met on a 
pier, and started fighting... I had a bokken, and she had a hooked 
pole. Almost an hour later, both of us were ready to drop."

	Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "So that's how you broke your 
hand! Father may have bought that line about catching it 
between two boats, but I thought something was up."

	Nodding, Akane stared at the pale blue of the letter. "She 
crushed it against the pier with her boot, and was getting 
ready to bash me over the head with that damn pole when I 
kicked her. She'd thought I was finished, was caught off 
balance, and fell off the pier. Her head hit the rocks, and some 
of the kids had to dive in and pull her out. I made sure a 
lifeguard showed up to look after her, and then I left. That was 
the last day of vacation."

	Ranma shook his head in agitation. "Man, Akane, no 
wonder she wants your head on a platter. She had this big ol' 
scar behind her right eye..."

	Akane winced. "I hadn't thought it was that bad."

	"Oh, that's prolly nothing. Look, she's got this reputation 
as unbeatable, but she ain't got no friends, right? I know how 
that sort thinks. They _value_ that reputation, 'cause even if 
no-one likes 'em they're still respected. Then you show up, 
make friends with everyone, beat her in front of witnesses 
who then have to rescue her, and promptly vanish, so there's no 
chance for a rematch." He shook his head in amazement. "Damn, 
Akane, this matches anything I've ever done. She's probably 
been dreaming of beating you to a pulp every night for the last 
two years."

	Akane looked stricken. "But she'd still be the best in the 
area..."

	"Doesn't matter. You broke the myth. An outsider, a 
tourist kid, beat her... so she can't really be that tough. Heck, 
maybe ten of us could catch her off guard, and then we'd see 
who's so high and mighty..."

	"Not that last," Akane said bleakly. "They wouldn't dare. 
She could beat the crap out of ten of them, and she wouldn't 
pull her punches."

	"But the respect is still gone," Ranma told her. "She got 
beat, so she's nothing special after all. And she's got this nice 
mark behind her eye to keep people from forgetting."

	"You sound pretty familiar with this," Nabiki observed.

	He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I've done it myself. I'd try to 
make it as close as I could, lessen the damage. But that's what 
happens when you're the champ. You get respect, but you gotta 
be prepared for someone better than you to take it away."

	"Yeah," Akane said, staring at Ranma with a look tinged 
by sadness. "Someone better shows up eventually."

	He nodded, wondering what was wrong. "So don't feel bad 
about it or nothin', you were just doing what martial artists 
do. But be aware that this chick's gonna be out for blood. You 
screwed up her life, big time."

	Akane shrugged, a forced sort of casual gesture. "I beat 
her once. I can do it again."

	"You barely beat her once, you said. And she prolly threw 
herself into her trainin' the past few years, trying to get good 
enough to trounce you." He gave her a hesitant grin. "Look, I can 
just go tell her to go home..."

	The glare he got made him retreat two steps. "I am NOT 
going to hide!" The textbook fell to the floor as she stood, eyes 
smoldering. "So maybe I'm not as good as the great Saotome 
Ranma! Or Shampoo! Or Ukyou! Or... or any of your friends! But 
I'm still a martial artist, and I can still fight!"

	He waved his hands frantically, backing up a step more. 
"Look, I'm not sayin' you have to hide... I can just tell her you 
aren't interested..."

	"I am interested," she snarled. "I beat her once, and I'll 
beat her again. Or maybe I'll lose, but I'll lose by myself, 
damnit!"

	Ranma rather prudently ran.

	Swearing, Akane sat back down on the bed. Nabiki gave 
her a sympathetic glance. "He's just worried about you, you 
know."

	"I'm not a helpless... thing," Akane said dully. "I used to be 
good. The best. Maybe I can't match up to him, but I used to be 
the best."

	Nabiki sat down beside her, and gave her a comforting 
squeeze with one arm. "You're still pretty damn good, sis. Do 
you really think you can take this person?"

	She slowly nodded. "Maybe she's trained, but so have I. I'm 
better now that I was at fourteen, and I've picked up a lot just 
from watching Ranma and the others. I've got a good chance."

	"Then go kick her ass, Akane. And to hell with Ranma."

	Smiling, she hugged Nabiki. "Thanks, oneesan."

	Her sister made an uncomfortable noise. "Just make sure 
you win. I don't want to lose money on my betting operation." 
Grinning, Nabiki winked. "I figure half of Nerima will have 
heard about this by seven tomorrow."

	"I'll give them a good show."

	"I don't doubt it."    

***

	As Nabiki had predicted, a large crowd had heard the 
news by the time for the duel arrived. Several of the Furinkan 
student body's more avid fight watchers had gathered in the 
park by six-thirty.

	In a way, they felt, this was almost more exciting than 
the usual challenger to Ranma. Sure, it wouldn't be as flashy - 
Akane wasn't likely to throw around any ki blasts or hurricanes 
- but the outcome was a lot less certain. Ranma always won, 
eventually. Akane, though... well, no-one was sure. It would 
depend on the challenger.

	Views on the challenger, who was perched hunkered over 
on the rail of the dock, were mixed. On the one hand, she 
certainly wasn't much of a physical specimen. Female martial 
artists around these parts tended to be pretty attractive; a 
very pleasing mix of a well-conditioned body and a strong 
personality. This one looked like something the cat had been 
gnawing on, and didn't exactly seem like a sparkling 
conversationalist. Akane should be able to break her in two.

	On the other hand, that hook looked _sharp_. And there 
was something fairly intimidating about the girl, a vague 
sense of... unease. As if she knew something the others 
gathered there didn't.

	Kuonji Ukyou took all of this in with some concern as she 
sized the girl up. Ranma had told her the whole story, and she 
was slightly worried for Akane. 

	She liked the youngest Tendo sister, for the most part. 
They'd always gotten along well, and they had a lot of things in 
common. Too bad that one of those things was being in love 
with Ranma... it put limits on just how far their friendship 
could go.

	They were close enough, however, for her to hope Akane 
kicked this girl's ass. And for Ukyou to worry a bit about her 
safety.

	Part of it, she privately admitted, was a desire to keep 
Ranma from paying attention to a wounded Akane. But mostly 
she just wanted her friend to emerge unhurt and victorious.

	At the moment, watching the challenger, she wasn't sure 
what the chances of that would be.

	Tetsuko sat, crouched like a vulture, on the top beam of 
the dock's rail. Her pole, a worn, solid, wooden affair wrapped 
in leather grips, was gripped by one hand and both knees as she
leaned forward against it. She seemed oblivious to the growing 
crowd.

	Ukyou frowned. There was something out of place...

	She looked more closely, sucked in a bit of her breath, 
and poked Ranma. "Hey, Ranchan. Look at Akane's opponent, how 
she's sitting."

	Squinting, he examined the sullen figure. "Yeah? What 
about it?

	"I don't think she's actually sitting on the top rail. Or 
even touching the rail at all."

	He blinked, looked closer, and slowly nodded. "Good eye, 
Ucchan. Looks like she's a millimeter or two off it. Must be 
balancing on that pole."

	"Yeah, with one hand, her legs, and an off-center pole. 
Without moving a muscle. For what, almost half an hour now?"

	Ranma winced. "Good balance. I could do it too, of course, 
but that ain't no ringing detraction."

	"Yup. Are you sure Akane can handle this?"

	He shrugged uncomfortably. "I can't exactly stop her, ya 
know. And there's a big difference between fancy balancing 
acts and real fighting."

	"I know." She stared worriedly at the motionless figure. 
"Still..."

	"If things start going really bad, and it looks like she's 
gonna get hurt, I'll step in. But Ucchan, she'd be beyond mad if I 
did. I dunno about her sometimes."

	Neither did she, Ukyou thought silently. She'd be thrilled 
to have Ranma worry about her safety.

	Part of it might simply be due to the Tendo girl's relative 
lack of skill, she supposed. Ukyou still remembered how bitter, 
how empty she had felt after her first battle with Ranma... she 
had devoted her life to mastering the Art in order to get her 
revenge, and Ranma had laughed off her attacks, first simply 
taking the damage out of a reluctance to hurt his old friend, 
then attacking like a unstoppable force after she angered him, 
then simply effortlessly dodging her enraged swipes in an 
attempt to placate her. She had felt like it had all been a 
waste - all her years of effort were useless; she wouldn't have 
been able to teach Ranma a lesson if she had trained for the 
rest of her life. The knowledge had hurt, a lot.

	Luckily, the reason for her revenge had promptly gone up 
in smoke, and she realized that she hadn't wasted her time 
after all. Marrying Ranma would be far more satisfying than 
beating him to a pulp, and her culinary and combat skills would 
help ease the way.

	Besides, it wasn't like Akane had no life aside from 
martial arts. Heck, Ukyou thought, she just seemed to treat it 
like... well... a hobby. Everyone else devoted their entire life to 
it, lived to perfect and improve their art. And that's what you 
needed to do in order to really be a force in the push and shove 
of Nerima.

	The concept was also a little disturbing. Akane was 
pretty good; good enough to best Kodachi and make a 
confrontation with Ukyou uncertain, albeit tilted heavily in the  
okonomiyaki chef's favor. What would Akane be like if she 
_had_ put the same amount of effort into it as the rest of 
them?

	"Probably even less easy to deal with," she muttered 
wryly to herself.

	"Hmm?"

	"Nothing, Ranchan. Just talking to myself."

	Nabiki strolled over, the pockets of her toggle coat 
bulging suspiciously. "Hi, guys. Care to place a bet on the local 
favorite?"

	Ukyou chuckled. "Sure, put me down for 100."

	Biting his lip, Ranma kicked the dirt. "I'm a little short 
on cash, Nabiki..."

	"Aw, c'mon Saotome. Show some support for your 
fiancee."

	"Yeah, Ranchan," Ukyou said, trying not to bristle at 
Nabiki. "Show some support for your _friend_."

	"Do I get it back if she loses?"

	Nabiki threw up her hands in disgust. "Your faith in my 
sister awes me, Ranma. No, you do _not_. It's gambling. The 
only person assured of making money is me."

	Ranma scratched his head. "How does that work?"

	"Don't ask, Saotome. Your brain would overheat trying to 
grasp it."

	"Ranchan's not stupid," Ukyou said mildly, feeling a 
certain need to defend her fiancee. "Just really really dense at 
times."

	He glared at them. "Gee, thanks."

	"You're welcome," she told him sweetly, handing Nabiki a 
wad of bills. The middle Tendo sister swiftly tucked the money 
away, made a notation in a pocket ledger, and favored Ukyou 
with a slight smile. "Thanks, and good luck. Akane should get 
here any minute now..."

	"Nihao!"

	Ukyou silently whimpered. It was the Bimbo Brigade.

	Shampoo bounced through the crowd, her smiling face 
moving towards Ranma like a guided missile. Ukyou swiftly 
positioned herself in between the two, one hand moving to her 
combat spatula. This wasn't the time or the place, but if 
Shampoo wanted to get rough...

	The Amazon slowed as she approached, favoring Ukyou 
with a neutral look. "Here for fight. Who challenge violent 
girl?"

	Ranma pointed to where Tetsuko perched, staring moodily  
at the planks of the dock. "Over there."

	Shampoo blinked. "Aiyah. Hope Akane not hurt her too 
bad."

	"I think she's probably capable of holding her own," Ukyou 
said tersely.

	"Hope the clumsy chick doesn't get herself hurt," Ranma 
mumbled. Ukyou winced. Not in front of Shampoo, moron, she 
mentally chided him.

	The Amazon shrugged. "This girl not look so tough." She 
tossed a wad of cash to Nabiki, who snapped it of the air with 
a dexterity that would have done any of the assembled martial 
artist proud. "Put that on challenger. Have, how say, sympathy 
for underdog."

	Nabiki smiled with mock-sweetness. "Sure, Shampoo. Of 
course, the trouble with betting on the underdog is that it's 
very rare that they actually win..."

	Peering at the girl on the dock, Ranma shook his head 
dubiously. "I dunno who the underdog is."

	"Well," Ukyou said, "we'll find out soon enough. With any 
luck, Akane'll send her packing, and that will be that."

	Nabiki frowned. "Hey, that's a good point. What _will_ 
happen if Akane wins?"

	"Aw, that's easy," Ranma said airily, waving a dismissive 
hand. "If Akane wins again, this chick'll go home, train for 
another year or two, and then come back for another try. That's 
how this sorta thing works."

	"That doesn't sound like what happened with you and 
Ryouga," Nabiki pointed out.

	"That's different. First of all, our first few fights were 
draws... somethin' always came up to get in the way, and the 
fight never got finished. That don't happen very often. Second, 
Ryouga's real good, and so am I; we pick up stuff and improve a 
lot faster than this girl would, so we take less time for a 
rematch. Finally, Ryouga's pigheaded to a really impressive 
degree, and ain't got no life aside from followin' me about an 
tryin' to beat me. This girl prolly needs to be back home in a 
certain amount of time."

	"Makes sense... whoops, here's our champion now..." Nabiki 
pointed, a slight smile on her face.

	Akane was emerging from the trees at the far end of the 
park, a patterned black belt wrapped around a yellow-and-red 
gi. Wooden clogs covered her feet; 'socks' of leather beneath 
them to protect her soles and instep. A headband bearing the 
crest of the Tendo-ryuu was securely fastened above a face 
showing confidence and grim determination in equal degrees.

	"Damn," Ranma said, impressed. "She looks good."

	Ukyou glared at him. Akane did look pretty formidable, 
she mentally admitted, but the admiration in Ranma's voice 
was edging into an area she'd rather he apply to her, not his 
uncute fiancee.

	From her perch on the rail - off the rail, Ukyou reminded 
herself - Tetsuko glanced up as Akane strode towards the lake. 
Her expression, a sort of impassive, glum mask, didn't change 
until her opponent was only a few feet away. "Tendo."

	Akane nodded. "Anjin."

	A silence fell, the two opponents sizing each other up.

	"Any rules?" Akane finally asked, kicking off her clogs.

	Tetsuko moved for the first time since Ukyou had 
arrived, raising a hand to scratch behind one ear thoughtfully.

	"Yeah," she eventually said. "Bleed."

	And with that her arm shot forward, and something metal 
and glinting flew towards Akane.

	Akane's hands slammed together with blinding speed, 
trapping it between her palms. A knife, Ukyou noted. Gutting 
knife.

	Wordlessly, Akane opened her hands. The knife fell to the 
ground.

	Tetsuko thoughtfully scratched again.

	"Been waiting for this," she said neutrally. "Which cheek 
you want th'scar on?"

	"It's your cheek," Akane replied. "You choose."

	Ukyou saw Ranma nod slightly in approval, a worried 
expression mixed with pride. She bit back a mutter, and 
glanced at her fellow spectators.

	Nabiki had a guarded, nervous look. Shampoo coolly 
watched the two, her eyes appraising.

	Tetsuko smiled slightly, then, as a slight breeze cut 
through the park to ruffle her unkempt hair. She stretched, 
still holding onto her pole, and seemed to hop down from the 
rail.

	Her feet stopped about an inch off the ground, her boat 
hook held crosswise before her with one hand.

	Nabiki gave a startled curse. "Ranma, she's floating in 
midair, how the hell...?"

	"The pole's touching the ground, and she's balancing on 
it," Ukyou replied, a nasty feeling settling into the pit of her 
stomach.

	"Balancing?" Nabiki said, incredulous. "She's holding it 
loose with one hand, and she looks exactly like she's standing!"

	"Yeah," Ranma said grimly. "Good balance. Don't worry. It's 
just for intimidation."

	"Well, it's working. I'm intimidated."

	Ukyou found herself nodding. Whatever this was, it 
wasn't likely to be an easy victory for Akane.

***

	Akane grimly watched as her opponent hopped down from 
the fence, boots halting an inch or so above the dock's rough 
planks. It took her almost a full second to realize what the 
other girl was doing; Tetsuko's arm muscles looked only 
slightly tense, and her grip on the pole looked loose. 

	She knew better. The other girl was holding her entire 
body in midair with one arm, which wasn't possible over long 
periods of time. Which meant...

	"Time t'sink, Tendo."

	Anticipating the other girl's vaulting kick, Akane threw 
herself to the side, slashing her arm out in a clothesline punch 
as she did. It connected, and Tetsuko tumbled back, her pole 
swinging in a vicious arc at Akane's legs. She jumped, hopping 
over the weapon, and then it reversed course, causing her to 
yelp with pain as it smacked into her side. Tetsuko hauled 
back, intending to slide the hook along and into Akane's ribs, 
and she barely managed to knock the weapon out of line as she 
charged forward, fists darting ahead of her.

	Eyes widening slightly, Tetsuko released one hand from 
her pole. As Akane closed to within inches, the fisher twisted 
her free hand, and a broad-bladed knife dropped down into it.

	Akane's mind noted and tracked the blade as it punched 
towards her ribs. Instinctively she brought her left hand 
shooting up to catch the knife-arm, while her right slammed 
into Tetsuko's stomach with all the force she could muster.

	The other girl doubled over with a grunt of pain, the 
captured knife slashing impotently against Akane's grip. Then 
the pole came whipping around, slamming the side of the Tendo 
girl's head. Dazed, Akane stumbled back, a retreating 
roundhouse kick catching the other girl a solid blow to the 
shoulder.

	They circled, each somewhat warier now. 

	Akane felt a thin trickle of blood begin to run along the 
sleeve of her gi, and mentally swore. Tetsuko must have grazed 
her with the knife, or possibly with the hook-tip...

	She had been somewhat hoping that this fight would be 
easier than their last, or at least less damaging. No such luck.

	Her expression remained a mask of calm confidence, but 
inside she was beginning to get a little scared. Several of the 
attacks she had just countered could have killed or seriously 
injured her, had they connected full-force.

	But, of course, they hadn't. Tetsuko was good, but she 
wasn't Ranma or Shampoo. Or even Ukyou, probably. Akane could 
still win this fight.

	Adrenaline and a long-forgotten confidence suddenly 
swept through her in a wave. She was the best, or at least she 
had been. She had crushed Tetsuko once, and now she'd do it 
again. At long last, here was a fair fight, a contest she could 
win!

	A challenging smile, better-suited to Ranma's face than 
her's, appeared. "You've gotten better."

	Tetsuko's indifferent expression never changed, but 
something smoldered behind her eyes. "Trained. So did you."

	Akane nodded, and then leapt forward. The hooked pole 
swept up to meet her, and she feinted, dove under it, and came 
up beside the other girl with fists savagely jabbing.

	Tetsuko, caught in a pummeling barrage at close range, 
vaulted straight up. For a split second she hung, one hand 
holding her atop her pole, and then she thrust herself 
downward with blinding speed. Akane frantically raised her 
arm to block, and then the other girl's booted foot slammed 
into the side of her face like a freight train.

	Bright lights seemed to fill her vision, and her nerve 
endings screamed. Some part of her mind, knowing that 
Tetsuko would finish her if left unhindered, made her lash her 
arms and left foot out before the boot had even left her flesh, 
making solid contact and sending her assailant tumbling.

	Swiftly she pulled herself to her feet, vision still 
spinning. A warm, salty taste filled her mouth; she hoped that 
she hadn't broken a tooth.

	Her first urge was to push forward and attack, but 
common sense quelled it and made her take a few steps back, 
arms moving into a guard position. The lights and spinning 
were slowly fading, and she could see Tetsuko begin to slowly 
advance...

	The fisher girl suddenly lunged forward, her boat hook 
stabbing at Akane in short, thrusting arcs. Keeping as calm as 
possible, she dodged as best she could, retreating as the pole 
flickered back and forth, her vision almost back to normal.

	A stab of pain made her cry out, and she jumped back and 
to the side as the hook gouged a bloody gash along her shoulder. 
That was going to need stitches, she though angrily...

	Mind racing, she dove past Tetsuko and onto the wooden 
dock, trying to act as though she was retreating. With a grunt 
of satisfaction, the other girl followed, vaulting onto the 
planks ahead of her.

	Akane focused her will, yelled, and slammed her fist 
down into the wooden surface before her.

	The board split and shattered along its length, and 
Tetsuko suddenly found that there was nothing but air under 
one foot. She devoted a split-second of concentration and 
balance to keep herself standing, and in that second a large 
piece of rail and an angry Tendo Akane flew at her.

	A spin of the pole deflected the thrown piece of wood, 
and then lashed out at the incoming attacker. It connected, 
smacking into Akane's ribs with a painful sound. It didn't stop 
the girl from crashing into Anjin at full force, sending them 
sprawling to the deck.

	Snarling, Akane drove her fist into Tetsuko's midsection, 
her other arm reaching for the girl's throat. She saw the look 
of calm indifference slowly turn to something akin to enraged 
panic, and then she screamed as something tore a white-hot 
line across her back. Her hand closed around the fisher's 
throat, lifted her a inch into the air, and then slammed her into 
the boards with all the strength at her disposal.

	There was the splintering sound of wood cracking, and 
Tetsuko gave a strangled cry of agony. Then a bony knee 
whipped upwards, landing solidly in Akane's stomach. Akane 
choked, the breath abruptly driven out of her, and Tetsuko 
lunged up at her, the knife reappearing from out of one sleeve 
as her pole clattered to the deck.

	Frantically Akane threw herself to the side, grabbing at 
Tetsuko's knife hand as she did. She felt a burning pain in her 
palm as the blade cut along it, and then her grip tightened on a 
thin wrist and she twisted. The knife dropped into the water 
with a splash, and Akane's other hand shot up to land firmly on 
her opponent's angular jaw.

	A boot thudded into her groin, causing her to almost gag 
from the type of pain, and then Tetsuko's fingers latched 
around her throat. She responded by leaping up and forward, 
causing the clutching fingers to rip bloodily free as she 
crashed into the other girl like a ton of bricks, sending them 
both hammering into the deck. Already abused, the boards 
broke, sending both of them falling through and into the water 
beneath.

	Panic seized Akane's brain and she thrashed, fear of 
drowning suddenly driving the fight from her mind. She felt her 
opponent slip from her grasp, and it was almost a full two 
seconds before she realized that the water, in fact, only came 
up to her arms.

	Standing, she saw her bedraggled opponent, nose and 
mouth oozing blood, doggedly wading out of the pond. The 
hooked pole lay on the shattered dock only a few feet away...

	Akane vaulted forward, calling up her last reserves of 
stamina. If she could just get to Tetsuko before the other girl 
reclaimed her weapon, it was all over. 

	She splashed through the water, moving faster and 
faster. Tetsuko stumbled onto the shore, limping slightly, and 
Akane saw the gap between them close...

	"VILLAIN!"

	A bokken-wielding figure emerged from the woods and 
charged.

	Tetsuko turned around just in time to escape a series of 
lighting-swift thrusts. Staggering back, she flipped her boat 
hook into her hand, parried a series of determined slashes, and 
slowly retreated.

	Akane just stood in the middle of the pond, jaw open, a 
slight red tint moving across her face, and watched as Kuno 
posed.

	"So, you would harm Tendo Akane, hag? You must face me, 
the Blue Thunder, first!"

	Tetsuko stared at him with an expression of utter, 
absolute, uncaring contempt. Then her gaze flickered to Akane, 
and then to Kuno's bokken.

	Akane could practically hear her thoughts: love to beat 
this fool to a pulp, but not in the shape I'm in, and not when it's 
two against one. She opened her mouth to speak, fury rushing 
through her. Nothing came out.

	Tetsuko, face still bearing the look of bored disgust, 
made a low noise in her throat. Then she hawked, and spat a 
stream of blood-tinged liquid on Kuno's shoes.

	"T'hell with this," she stated, and then dashed off, 
vanishing into the trees.

	Akane felt a red haze slide over her vision, felt herself 
slowly, steadily walk out of the pond and up to Kuno.

	"Tendo Akane, I have rescued you from certain dea-"

	Her fist slammed into his stomach, sending him falling 
to his knees just as her knee arched up into his groin. Kuno 
turned an interesting shade of green, and then her elbow knifed 
into the back of his neck, sending him sprawling limply on the 
ground.

	Shaking with rage, she glared at the crowd. No-one said 
anything.

	She had been winning, she thought, dull anger surging 
through her. It hadn't been over yet, but she had been holding 
her own, more than holding her own, and if that delusional 
_shit_ hadn't shown up to 'rescue' her she could have won... why 
did people think she needed rescuing... she used to be the best... 
used to...

	She suddenly felt like crying. No-one broke up Ranma's 
duels. No-one tried to protect him. No-one felt Ukyou or 
Shampoo needed someone to look after them. But then, they 
were better than her, weren't they?

	Nabiki hesitantly stepped forward. "I guess you win, 
Akane," she said in a tone loud enough for the crowd to hear.

	Glaring at her sister, Akane shook her head. "No winner. 
Draw fight, draw on account of hentai SCUM..." she delivered a 
kick to Kuno's unmoving form, "breaking in on a private matter 
of honor!" Another kick, this one hard enough to send his form 
tumbling a few inches.

	She raised her foot again, and then quickly reined in her 
temper. With difficulty. The urge to break bones was almost 
frighteningly strong in her at the moment.

	"Okay," Nabiki said slowly. "Whatever you say, Akane. How 
about we go down to Doctor Tofu's now, okay?"

	"Huh?" Doctor Tofu's? Why would she...

	Then the pain started to hit her.

	She felt like death warmed over, Akane suddenly 
realized. Her shoulder was on fire and bleeding, her stomach 
felt like she had been kicked by a mule, there was some kind of 
cut along her back and a knife slash on her hand, and her groin 
area was throbbing in a really unpleasant fashion. Plus there 
was blood in her mouth, either from a cut or a chipped tooth...

	"Yeah," she said unsteadily, the hot rage draining out of 
her. "That's a good idea." A real good idea, since she wasn't 
sure exactly how much longer she could hold back tears of pain.

	"Good fight," Ranma said, approaching. Ukyou was 
following, a look of slight concern on her face. "You really did a 
number on her, Akane. Thought you were gonna break her in 
half, pounding her through the floor like that."

	"Nice going, Akane," Ukyou told her. "You okay?"

	"I'm okay," she tiredly replied. She supposed she was... 
and at least she hadn't completely embarrassed herself. She 
would have preferred a victory, but... she would have to settle 
for having held her own.

	"Aw, Akane's built like a tank. She's okay," Ranma said. 
"Quick trip to the Doc's and she'll be fine, right?"

	"Right," she told him. Then, tanklike legs moving tanklike 
body, she turned and trudged off in the direction of the doctor's 
clinic."

	"....show some tact, okay?..." she dimly heard Ukyou 
whisper.

	"...what'd I say? I just told her she..." The remainder of 
Ranma's words were lost to her as she quickened her step.

	The others fell into step behind her. Part of Akane 
wanted to just collapse into Ranma, let him hold her up as they 
walked, even let him carry her. But that's not what you did 
after a duel. Not in front of Ukyou. Not in front of him. She was 
strong.

	One, two, one, two... each step hurt. There was a cut of 
some kind along her leg.

	Akane closed her eyes and walked.

***

	Shampoo watched Akane send Kuno crumpling to the 
ground, and nodded approvingly. Had she been the Tendo girl, 
she would have considered killing the fool for insulting her 
honor like that - but she also understood that customs in Japan 
were different. Up to a point, at least.

	Her Airen and the okonomiyaki chef were walking 
towards Akane, clearly intent on offering support and praise. 
Shampoo, of course, did not. It wasn't that she disliked Akane; 
on the contrary, she had a great deal of respect for the girl's 
spirit and courage. Anyone who was willing to walk into a 
certain loss for the sake of honor had Shampoo's grudging 
esteem.

	Unfortunately, Akane happened to be the enemy.

	Back in China, it would have been easy. Kill Akane, 
matter finished. Shampoo would triumph, Akane would die with 
honor, and everyone would be as happy as fate had made 
possible for them to be.

	But Ranma was Japanese, and they were all in Japan, and 
the rules of Japan were different than the rules of the 
Joketsuzoku. When in Rome...

	So she worked against Akane in small ways, doing her 
best to break the other girl down in Ranma's eyes. It was a 
somewhat distasteful business. Even more distasteful was the 
enjoyment she sometimes took from it, especially when it 
seemed like Akane had won.

	Shampoo allowed herself a slight sigh. Truth be told, 
Akane _was_ winning. The battle wasn't over yet, but she could 
see the two getting closer and closer, could see the way Ranma 
sometimes looked at his fiancee. Something would have to be 
done, and soon.

	Her and Akane. That was where the real duel lay, between 
the tomboy and the Amazon. Ranma was as likely to marry 
Ukyou as he was to marry Ryouga. And more likely to marry 
Ryouga than Kodachi, she thought with amusement.

	Secretly, she hoped she wasn't going to have to kill 
Akane after all. She would feel very badly about that.

	A thought occurred to her, and she quickly strode off into 
the trees, her trained eyes quickly spotting the footprints of 
Akane's opponent. She had been raised to be a tracker and scout 
as well as a warrior - indeed, Shampoo had been raised to be a 
number of things - and before long she was moving at a half-
run in pursuit.

	It didn't take her long to catch up. Rounding an alley 
corner, she spotted a bedraggled, gaunt figure slowly limping 
away, hooked pole being used as a support.

	"Nihao!" she cheerfully called. It was always best to be 
pleasant, even when shoving a knife into someone.

	Tetsuko pulled to a halt and wearily turned around. The 
expression on her face was one of mildly curious irritation.

	"You give good fight," Shampoo continued. "Hurt Akane 
well."

	A brief smile moved across the other girl's face, and she 
shrugged slightly.

	Shampoo waited a second for a more talkative reply. None 
came.

	"You not only one with quarrel with Akane," she finally 
said. "You live in Tokyo?"

	"Live in Hokkaido," Tetsuko slowly replied. "An don't care 
much for th'likes of this city."

	Shampoo nodded with feeling. "Tokyo too... large. Modern. 
Confusing, at times."

	"'sone word for it," the other girl replied neutrally. 
Another shrug from soaked, bony shoulders. "Who th'hell are 
you, now?"

	"Shan Pu," Shampoo said carefully. She was somewhat 
irritated by the fact that everyone in Japan seemed to think 
she was named after a hair-care product. "A friend of yours, 
perhaps, if you no friend of Akane."

	"Friend? Heh. Think I'll be gutting Akane, th'sooner 
th'better," Tetsuko replied, tone casual. 

	Shampoo grinned. "You have place to stay? Doctor to see 
wounds?"

	Another shrug. "Had worse. Th'docks have a barrel or two. 
Always do."

	Eying the slowly clotting blood on the gaunt fisher's 
face, Shampoo shook her head. "You come with Shan Pu. Warm 
food, warm stove, and great-grandmother is gifted healer. You 
no defeat Akane dying of fever on docks, ne?"

	Tetsuko stared at her for a few seconds, eyes narrowing. 
The expression of calm indifference fluttered, stretched, and 
then relaxed into a somewhat friendly smile. "Much obliged. 
Th'place far?"

	Shampoo shook her head. "Is near. You follow."

	She set off down the alley, the thin girl limping after 
her. What would be done was a mystery to her, but her great-
grandmother had taught her always to be on the lookout for an 
opportunity. And this, she suspected, was an opportunity.

	If nothing else, the girl deserved a good meal and a 
healer's skills for the fight she had given Akane. A true pity 
the school's resident idiot had interfered. She hoped Akane 
punished him more severely later on.

***

	Doctor Tofu's clinic wasn't far from the park, for which 
Akane was very grateful. Her various injuries reminded her of 
their presence with every step she took.

	Ukyou and Ranma trailed a few steps behind her, both 
ready to lend her an arm if she needed one. Which was all the 
more reason to make it on her own. Shampoo would probably 
just skip merrily along with wounds like this... she wasn't 
weak enough to need support.

	But it was still nice of them to come with her, she 
thought wistfully. Ranma could be something resembling 
thoughtful at times.

	They reached the clinic, and Ranma scrambled in front of 
her to haul open the door. Allowing him a slight smile, she 
forced herself to walk inside at a brisk clip.

	Ono Tofu, her doctor and former idol, looked up from his 
desk as she entered. Not for the first time that year, she 
prayed that he hadn't guessed about the childhood crush.

	He probably had, though, she thought glumly. The man 
could be incredibly perceptive at times.

	Standing, Tofu quickly walked over to her, a steadying 
arm reaching out. "Oh dear. What've you done to yourself now, 
Akane?"

	"Just a small match, Doctor Tofu," she replied.

	"Small match? You have, hmm, a knife wound on this 
palm, something's torn open your shoulder... another one across 
the back?" Tofu shook his head, an expression of bemused 
amazement crossing his face. "This is very impressive, Akane. 
You've managed to collect the kinds of injuries I'm used to 
seeing from Ranma here."

	"Martial artists tend to get hurt a lot, I guess," she said 
sheepishly.

	"And heal well, too, fortunately," the doctor replied. He 
turned to regard Ranma and Ukyou with a somewhat stern 
expression. "Akane's going to be here for a while. Why don't you 
two head home?"

	Ranma looked uncomfortable. "Actually, I was thinking of 
staying here until..."

	Tofu sighed. "I'm going to have to do a relatively 
complete examination, which means that you'd have to leave 
the room anyway. I'm guessing Akane made it here under her 
own power, and she'll certainly be able to leave by herself. If 
not, she can give the dojo a phone call."

	"It's all right, Ranma," she told him, smiling slightly. It 
was nice to see him concerned about her, for whatever reason. 
"I think I can get through a visit to the family doctor by 
myself. This certainly isn't the first time I've been here."

	Ranma nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I suppose. C'mon, 
Ucchan."

	Ukyou shot her a final thumbs up and a wink, and the two 
departed.

	Tofu coughed. "I figured you'd rather not have someone 
hovering over you. Aside from your doctor, that is."

	She nodded thankfully. "It's nice that he's worried, but it 
really grates on me sometimes. It's like he doesn't think I can 
take care of myself."

	Shrugging, the doctor gently guided her hand over to a 
basin, and began to wash out the cut. "Ranma's a very self-
reliant person. He probably feels most people _can't_ take care 
of themselves. Compared to him..." Tofu paused to rub an 
ointment of some sort along the slash, and Akane winced. 
"Compared to him, they probably can't. He's accomplished quite 
a bit."

	"He doesn't treat Ukyou like that," she said reluctantly. 
"Or Shampoo."

	"Well, they're fairly self-reliant as well. Doesn't Kuonji 
run her own restaurant? And the Joketsuzoku are trained from 
birth to..."

	"I guess," she said, her tone a bit harsher than she had 
intended. "Sorry, I don't mean to snap."

	"Perfectly natural to snap at the man who's about to 
stick a needle in you," he said jovially. "I'm afraid I'll have to 
sew up that shoulder."

	She nodded. "I was thinking you would a second after I 
got it, actually."

	"How did you get it, if you don't mind me asking?"

	"Oh, an old rival," she said with mock-casualness. "She 
showed up looking for a duel, so I gave her one."

	"Goodness. More and more like Ranma." He brushed 
something that stung slightly along the gash on her shoulder. 
"You won, I hope?"

	Akane winced. "Kuno jumped in halfway through. 
Tetsuko... my opponent.. ran. I don't blame her."

	"You don't sound terribly happy about it, though," Tofu 
observed.

	"I had a real chance of winning for once," she said 
bitterly, letting her disappointment show. "I hadn't won yet, 
but there was a good chance. And next time..."

	"Next time things might not go as well, either by chance 
or design, and you'll lose," Tofu finished, deftly threading a 
slender metal instrument.

	"Exactly," Akane said. There was a slight sting as the 
instrument touched the gash, and she winced again. "What if 
next time she ambushes me, or I trip at the wrong time, or I'm 
just not in peak performance? She was really good, Doctor 
Tofu. Good enough to make things very, very close."

	Tofu nodded sympathetically, removing the instrument. 
"I'll need you to remove your shirt now, Akane."

	She complied, tossing the ripped gi and undershirt into a 
basket by the wall. Tofu moved behind her, kneeling slightly to 
examine her lower back. "What made this cut?"

	"Hooked pole, I think," she replied, remembering the line 
of pain across her back as she had pinned Tetsuko. "She had a 
hand free when I took her to the ground; I think she slashed my 
back with it."

	"That would fit with the wound," the doctor replied, 
running a slightly chill fingertip along it. "Sounds as if your 
opponent was playing for keeps."

	"I don't think she's actually trying to kill me, but beyond 
that..." Akane shuddered slightly. It was a bit unnerving to have 
someone actively out to seriously harm you... well, Shampoo 
and Kodachi had in the past, but their idea of harm generally 
wasn't the lasting kind. And it wasn't really personal; they just 
wanted her out of the way.

	"Hmm. Are you sure you're comfortable with this feud, 
Akane? You could always ask Ranma to..."

	"No!" Again, it came out harsher than she wanted. "I can 
take care of myself. Maybe I'm not as good as Ranma, but 
Tetsuko's not as good as the people who usually come after 
him. So it's really just a matter of mindset."

	"I suppose it is." Something warm moved along her back, 
tracing the cut. "Ranma, however, undoubtedly has that 
mindset. Do you?"

	"I... well..." Akane floundered, uncertain. "I don't know."

	"If you don't know, then you probably don't. Ranma will do 
anything, try anything, put out every effort to win. That's why 
he usually does, in the end. He's not the most promising student 
of the Art I've ever seem, but promising enough... and his spirit 
makes him one of the best. He walks into a fight knowing he 
will win, and that is half of it."

	"Isn't that overconfidence?"

	"Only if you let it blind you to realities. Please remove 
the lower gi... thank you." A damp cloth rubbed gently against a 
cut on her leg. "Ranma fights knowing that he will win, but 
always keeping in mind what he must do to not lose. That is 
why he will accept practically any challenge, but will run 
away once one has begun. Retreat, even appearing to lose is 
acceptable if it leads to victory."

	"That makes a lot of sense," Akane said, mulling it over. 
She had always wondered how someone with Ranma's ego could 
perform the 'Saotome Secret Technique'... running away from an 
insulting foe. But if Ranma was that convinced of the need, the 
certainty of victory...

	"Ranma always keeps going. No matter what the 
sacrifice. Always believing that he will win. That is why he 
succeeds." Tofu moved around in front of her. "Hmm. Lean back 
slightly."

	She did, wincing a bit. Tofu rubbed a bit of salve along 
the cut on her side, and a smaller amount on a scrape along her 
stomach. "I'm afraid the underwear will have to come off too. I 
can tell by the way you're moving that you took a strong hit to 
the groin."

	Nodding, she slid out of her undergarments, allowing 
them to pool around her feet. "I got kicked, by a very sturdy 
part of boots. Hard."

	The doctor nodded, examining. "Some fairly severe 
bruising, and it looks as though you have a slight scrape there. 
In view of the location, I'll give you some salve to apply at 
home, rather than me doing it here."

	Akane blushed slightly. "Thank you." Inside, she was 
mentally heaving a sigh of relief that she hadn't thought of 
getting an injury there a year before. Lord only knows how she 
would have embarrassed herself...

	Luckily, her infatuation with the doctor had vanished at 
around the same time Ranma arrived. Now, well... she didn't 
feel uncomfortable, having him examine her. She supposed that 
perhaps she should, but she didn't. 

	"Just less work for me to do." He moved around to the 
back. "I believe I will have to handle the salve for the cut on 
your backside, however. Awkward location to do alone."

	"I don't mind." A slightly cold finger touched one buttock, 
and then she felt the low burn of the salve on it.

	"She did quite a number on you," Tofu said 
conversationally. "You say you were winning?"

	"Yes." It was good, very good that she no longer had that 
crush. "It wasn't anything close to certain, but I think she was 
in worse shape. And if I had cut her off before she retrieved 
her weapon, she would have lost for sure."

	"Hmm." The salve was rubbed in, cold on warm. "I hope 
you won't be coming back in a while with even worse injuries, 
but it seems pretty much unavoidable. If you take this sort of 
damage while winning..."

	"I know. But I'm at my best against her at close quarters, 
giving and taking punishment. I'm a lot more durable than she 
is." She carefully pushed all images of Ranma from her head as 
the last of the salve was rubbed in. If her body were to respond 
she'd die of embarrassment, especially since a doctor could 
hardly miss noticing...

	"I see." Standing, Tofu slowly walked around her, eyes 
moving up and down across her. "That would seem to take care 
of your injuries. But I would like to see you back here 
tomorrow."

	Akane blinked. "To remove the stitches?"

	"No, they'll be in for another three days. Possibly only 
two. But I'd like to show you a trick to avoid being hit."

	She sucked in her breath, heart beating a little faster. "A 
dodge?"

	"Not exactly. I suppose it's similar to one of those 
specials Ranma and his friend use, although of course not 
nearly as impressive. It does involve ki, but I'm sure you could 
master it in an afternoon. It's not very difficult."

	Technique. Ki. The two words rang in her brain.

	Akane grinned. "I'll be here, believe me. Anything that'll 
give me an edge would be great."

	"It's no Hiryu Shoten Ha, but it's fairly useful." Tofu 
raised an eyebrow. "You can get dressed now."

	Akane did, flushing a bright red as she did so. While a 
man's touch to her butt hadn't caused her to react, the mere 
mention of a martial arts technique apparently had. No wonder 
Ranma called her...

	She sighed, tying her belt in place. "I'll be back tomorrow 
afternoon."

	"Good." He handed her a small bottle. "Apply this fairly 
soon after you get home."

	"Thanks, Doctor Tofu." She gave him a smile. It was nice 
to have someone you knew and liked handling your ills.

	"Just doing my job, Akane. You can make it home by 
yourself, I'm sure."

	"Sure can." She felt pretty good, she realized. A moment's 
rest must have done wonders. "Bye!"

	Tofu waved, and watched as she walked down the steps 
and strode off along the street. He smiled, very slightly, and 
then slowly strode back into the shadows of the clinic.

***

	Cologne's day had been going quite slowly, which 
frustrated her. At least, as much as she allowed it to. Self- 
control was something Cologne excelled at.

	Well into her second century, she was at the crowning 
peak of her knowledge and wisdom. There was very little, if 
any, room left for advancement; the only thing lying ahead of 
her was an eventual decline. She would not permit it to last 
long; if her mind began to fade, she would swiftly go out to 
perform some great achievement of glory, renown, merit, and 
fatality. Feeblemindedness in old age was not an option for the 
Joketsuzoku.

	She believed that she still had several more decades, but 
the fact still remained that she had limited time and felt her 
age heavily. And she should be back home, guiding, instructing, 
building - performing both the routine and awe-inspiring 
duties expected of a Grand Matriarch.

	Instead, she was running a Chinese restaurant in Japan.

	Oh, there was good reason for it. Not the reason her 
great-granddaughter thought; Ranma was clearly hopelessly in 
love with the Tendo girl. Cologne had long since given up on 
adopting him into the tribe that way.

	On the other hand, there was a great deal to be said for 
cultivating powerful allies. Ranma was only in his late teens, 
and already he could give Cologne a good fight. When he reached 
his prime, he would be terrifying. And Cologne would be the one 
who had taught him, and Shampoo would be a friend of his 
childhood. The Joketsuzoku would have a formidable resource 
to call on, should the need arise.

	It was good for Shampoo, as well. It was all too easy to 
let the Joketsuzoku mindset stagnate your thoughts, trap you 
in chains of tradition and archaism. As a potential heir, 
Shampoo needed to get out in the world, immerse herself in a 
different culture, learn something of modern ways.

	In addition, the local fighting talent was quite 
impressive - all the more impressive for the lack of lethal 
intent in most fights. Shampoo was getting quite an education, 
both in the various arts of combat and in how to avoid it.

	She would still never be as good as Ranma, which Cologne 
suspected was a large reason for Shampoo's infatuation with 
the boy. Her great-granddaughter was skilled, but not as 
skilled as Saotome.

	But that was all right. Cologne herself lacked the raw 
talent possessed by Ranma... or by Genma, for that matter, or 
Ryouga. She could still demolish any of them in combat, and 
would probably outlive Ranma's father. Not to mention the fact 
that she was far more than just a simple fighter. A Matriarch 
was expected to be a general, a psychologist, a surgeon, a 
historian, a mage, an artist, a judge, an agriculturalist... all 
these things and more. Ranma would just be a martial artist, 
no matter how good. Shampoo would be hundreds of things.

	So she put up with the place, for her heir's sake. Every 
woman should have a grand passion in their late teens, and 
have their heart thoroughly broken over it. It gave one such a 
realistic approach towards future matters of the heart.

	Besides, teaching Ranma was quite rewarding. The boy's 
spirit was a source of joy to her, and he combined utter 
stupidity with raw intelligence in a way that made her think of 
him as a sort of archetypical male.

	But all things must come to an end, and she would not be 
sad to see this part of her life come to a close. It was 
aggravating to sail the Sea of Dreams every time she needed to 
consult the Council... aggravating and dangerous, especially 
with that viper lurking in the middle of Nerima.

	The restaurant's door slid open in the main room, and 
Cologne heard two sets of footfalls enter. Her great-
granddaughter's, and someone else's. Odd.

	Picking up her staff, she strode into the main room. 
Shampoo was motioning for a soaked, gaunt Japanese girl with 
a hooked pole to sit in a chair by the stove. Most interesting.

	"You have a guest, Shan Pu?" she asked.

	Shampoo nodded. "She duel Akane not long ago. Fight 
interrupted, she have no place go, I bring her to Nekohanten."

	Cologne cast a closer eye on the newcomer. Blood matted 
her rather glum face, and there was a certain stiffness in the 
way she sat. Obviously Akane had gotten in several good hits, 
which meant that the girl was nowhere near Shampoo's league.

	"She looks somewhat injured." She looked somewhat 
mauled, Cologne thought with amusement. Walking over, she 
smiled reassuringly at the newcomer. "I am a healer, child. May 
I examine your wounds?"

	She recieved a suspicious, dour stare in return; calm 
hostility mixed with indifference. Ah, the Matriarch thought. 
One of those.

	Casually, Cologne shrugged. "If you wish, of course, you 
can stay in less than ideal shape. But you should at least have 
some hot food, yes? You'd make me a poor host."

	"Food would be welcome." The other girl fidgeted 
slightly, the mask cracking for a second as a twinge of pain 
made her wince. "Much obliged."

	"Certainly. Shan Pu, help me in the kitchen for a minute." 
Her great-granddaughter dutifully followed her out of the 
dining hall, and Cologne fixed her with a curious gaze. "So. 
What has the cat dragged in?"

	Shampoo winced at the turn of phrase. "She fight Akane 
to standstill before school idiot break up fight, make her 
retreat. Might be useful. Not sure for what, but might be useful. 
Even if not, deserve meal and healing for good fight with 
dishonorable interferance."

	The Matriarch nodded in approval. "Excellent. You are 
learning the value of the possible asset. Be careful with how 
you handle this one, though."

	"Great-grandmother?"

	"She seems to feel the world is against her, and I doubt 
she trusts or relaxes easily. At best, such people are private 
and hard to get to know. At worst, they're dangerously insane."

	"Oh."

	"Yes. If you intend manipulation, be subtle and reserved."

	Shampoo shrugged. "Not know what intend. Will see."

	Cologne smiled slightly. "Keep your options open, child, 
by all means." Turning, she ladeled a dish of steaming beef and 
rice into a bowl. "Take this to her. After she has eaten, we'll 
see how she feels about medical attention."

	Nodding, her great-granddaughter bounced out of the 
kitchen. Cologne moved slowly to the doorway, and watched the 
gaunt newcomer wolf down the food as Shampoo cheerfully 
chattered at her, the fisher pausing now and then to give a 
brief nod or a muted smile at her host. Shampoo had always 
been good at making friends with people.

	After nearly twenty minutes of this, Tetsuko pushed her 
empty bowl away and wiped her mouth with the back of one 
hand. "Good food."

	Shampoo beamed. "Is specialty of Nekohanten, good food."

	The other girl gave a slight chuckle, wincing slightly as 
she leaned back in her chair. "Th'offer of doctoring still 
stand?"

	Cologne smiled slightly, and walked into the room. "Done 
with your food?"

	Tetsuko nodded, eyes going slightly wary. "You a healer, 
then?"

	"A very good one. Let me see your nose, there..." She 
deftly hopped onto the bench and firmly steered the girl's chin 
into the light. A few gentle probes along the outside of the 
nose confirmed that it wasn't broken, just injured. "Shan Pu, 
warm water, some cloths, and my medical kit."

	"Yes, great-grandmother."

	"Your stamina is excellent, child," Cologne said 
conversationally, applying pressure against a point on the 
bridge of the nose to halt the remaining bleeding. "A punch 
from Tendo Akane would have shattered most people's faces."

	"Used to taking damage."

	"I should guess so." Shampoo returned with the requested 
items, and Cologne gently began to wipe away the dried blood 
with a damp cloth. "Who trained you in the Art?"

	Tetsuko shrugged slightly. "Learned. Here an there."

	The Matriarch nodded, examining the inside of her mouth 
as she spoke. A withered finger slowly reached out, pushed 
against the jaw in three places. 

	"What was that?" the fisher asked a edge of suspicion 
entering her voice. 

	Cologne smiled slightly. "Merely rerouting blood flow for 
a few hours. Unless you want your mouth to taste of iron and 
salt?"

	Tetsuko stared at her with calm regard, then shook her 
head slightly.

	"I thought not. Now, let us have a look at your stomach."

	The girl scowled. "What for?"

	Cologne rolled her eyes. "Because you've been punched in 
it repeatedly, foolish child. I could tell the second you walked 
in the door. Even Shan Pu could probably tell. And I cannot treat 
you by examining your shirt."

	Tetsuko winced. "Suppose." The shirt came off, and 
Cologne noted the pattern of old scars with unsurprised 
interest. The girl's stomach was an angry red, bruises purpling 
up there and in places on the arms and chest. 

	"Shan Pu, please hand me the green and yellow bottle 
with the cork top." The bottle was swiftly passed to her 
waiting hand, and Cologne poured a small amount of lotion 
from it into her palm.

	"The liniment is a bit cold, and the area it will be applied 
is tender."

	Tetsuko gave a slightly curt nod, and Cologne began to 
carefully apply it, making sure to massage the area as she did. 
There was a pressure point in the thorax to route healing 
efforts to the main body, and she deftly pressed it.

	After a time the red and purple seemed to fade slightly, 
receeding on the edges to a tender-looking pink. Cologne nodded 
in satistaction; the ointment wasn't magical, but it was highly 
effective. "Try not to strain this area until it has healed. I 
expect that you should be in something resembling your normal 
form in two days."

	Tetsuko nodded, gingerly standing and stretching. "Feels 
better."

	"Of course it does. I told you I was a healer."

	Shampoo, who had been eying the other girl's scarred 
torso in a manner that wasn't as hidden as Cologne would have 
liked, turned to her great-grandmother. "Give her room, great-
grandmother?"

	Cologne shrugged. "Food and treatment is one thing, 
lodging is quite another. She is welcome to stay, but I'll want 
her to earn her keep with a few chores. Nothing heavy, but 
these old bones aren't as nimble as they once were..."

	To her credit, Shampoo kept a straight face.

	"Don't want t'intrude," Tetsuko muttered, pulling her 
shirt back on. The motion obviously still sent a few twinges 
along her side, and she hesitated. "I can cook, bit. Can work, 
too."

	Cologne nodded. "Give her Mousse's room. He won't be back 
for another month." She had sent the boy to train under an old 
friend in the hopes that he could finally gain some self-
control. And in the hopes that absence might make an impact on  
her great-granddaughter. "She certainly won't eat as much as 
him."

	"Or be as annoying," Shampoo chimed in. Her eyes 
suddenly widened slightly, and she shot Tetsuko a suddenly 
suspicious look. "You feud with Akane, yes?"

	Tetsuko nodded slightly, eyes calm and wary.

	"You not engaged to Saotome Ranma? Or have claim on 
him?"

	The other girl stared at her blankly for a second. Then a 
slight smile replaced the wary look. A slight chuckle escaped 
her lips, and she shook her head in amusement. "Th'fool in red? 
I think not."

	Sweetness and light returned to Shampoo's expression. 
"Aiyah, that okay then."

	Tetsuko shrugged, the look of slight amusement still on 
her face.

***

	It was a fairly cold day, but Akane hardly noticed. She 
was off to learn a new technique.

	The idea had dominated her thoughts last night, driving 
out some of the sting of the aborted duel. Ranma had even been 
fairly considerate last night, making attempts to be nice to 
her in his own way. She appreciated it, and had tried to return 
the favor. There was a certain awkwardness between them 
that hampered any real connection, but still... it had been nice.

	Her dreams that night had stayed with her upon 
awakening. She threw Tetsuko through walls, leveled her with 
a blow, brought her to her knees... the crowd roared approval... 
and then it was Ukyou she fought, or perhaps Shampoo, or 
perhaps them both, and again her foe went down before her 
precise attacks... and finally it was Ranma she was fighting, 
his face creased with concentration and respect as they 
dueled...

	It had been a heady array of night visions, and the 
memory of them buoyed her hopes as she jogged to the clinic. 
Nothing spectacular, Tofu had said... but useful. She would 
settle for useful if it helped her win. Spectacular was Ranma's 
area.

	Arriving at the doctor's office, she hesitated, suddenly 
uncertain. What if she couldn't learn it?

	Oh well. She'd deal with that if it happened.

	"Doctor Tofu?" she called, pushing open the door. "Are you 
in?"

	"No need to shout, Akane."

	She jumped, spinning to see Tofu standing a few inches 
away. "You... you startled me."

	He smiled slightly. "You need to keep alert, Akane. Don't 
let people get that close without warning."

	Akane nodded dutifully, although she remembered that 
Tofu had snuck up on Ranma in much the same way more than 
once. Erasing his presence from the mind, Ranma had called it... 
"So. I'm ready to learn if you're ready to teach."

	Tofu nodded. "Come out to the back of the clinic, in the 
garden."

	They strolled around into the garden of odd herbs and 
slightly stunted trees in the rear of the clinic. Stopping, 
glancing slightly at the overcast sky, Tofu gave a smile of 
satisfied amusement. "All right, Akane. I'm going to attack you 
with a simple leaping kick. I want you either to dodge or 
counter, whichever you prefer."

	Puzzled, Akane nodded. "I'm pretty good with aerials, 
remember. Anything-Goes emphasises them."

	He nodded, still smiling. "I know. Ready?"

	She snapped into a fighting stance. "Ready!"

	Tofu nodded, and leapt in a fairly standard jumpkick.

	Akane tracked the movement, prepared to meet the 
attack, a sidestep and a punch...

	Wait! He was veering right! Adjust!

	Frantically, confused, she moved a bit to the side... no, 
the other way... what was going on....

	The kick sent her tumbling to the ground.

	Tofu extended a hand to help her up. "So. What happened?"

	She stood, brow wrinkling in consternation. It had been a 
fairly simple kick... he hadn't veered in midair, or feinted, but 
she had become confused about the angle of his attack, where 
he really was... but why?

	Slowly, she replayed it in her mind, looking for what had 
caused her to react as she had.

	"Your shadow," she finally breathed. "It didn't match. It 
was veering and moving as if you were somewhere else."

	Tofu nodded approvingly. "Martial artists trained in 
aerial attacks, especially ones who recieve aerial attacks, 
watch the shadow of their opponent to help gauge his or her 
location. When the shadow moves, their mind assigns the 
corresponding movement to their opponent. It's all unconsious, 
involuntary, and so when the two don't match it confuses them, 
with the inevitable results."

	Akane nodded, a smile beginning to form. Tetsuko used 
aerial attacks quite a bit; vaulting and balancing with her pole. 
The shadow trick might only work in one fight, but that was all 
she needed.

	"So how do I do it?" she asked.

	"It's a bit tricky at first. Come inside, and I'll 
demonstrate."

	They walked back into the clinic, and the doctor seated 
Akane at a table. Vanishing into a back room, he returned with 
a candle. As Akane watched curiously, he set it on the table 
before her, lit it, and then turned off the overhead lights.

	"You must move the shadow of the candle. From there, 
learning to move your own is simple."

	She nodded uncertainly. "Okay... how do I do it?"

	"Stare deep into the flame. Lose yourself in it. Let it 
surround you. Then, when that is done, alter the world around 
you to shades of black, gradual and slow, until the flame itself 
is a flickering grey in your mind. Once that is done, picture the 
shadow moving."

	Mind over matter. Akane had always hated those kind of 
exercises. "All right," she said, and stared at the flame.

	Warmth. Hot, burning, cold warmth. Flicker.

	Time passed. She stared, tuning out everything but the 
dancing streak of yellow, narrowing the world down to it. 
Flicker.

	After a long time, she began to let the world back in. But 
slowly.

	It was dark and shrouded, compared to the bright flame. 
She kept it that way, letting the dancing yellow illuminate 
black outlines on black surfaces with grey light. Before long, 
the room was a portrait of ebony.

	Slowly, reluctantly, she began to fade the flame. Heat to 
cold, yellow to white, color to monochrome. The room 
clustered around the flame, choking the life from it, fading it 
until it was a capering slash of white and grey.

	Almost absently, she spun the shadow of the candle 
around and around and around, like a second hand on a watch.

	"Very good," said a strange voice, and something huge 
loomed up behind her. With a small shriek Akane spun, the 
world slamming back into color, and stared at Tofu.

	"Very good," he repeated. "Did I startle you?"

	She smiled weakly, still shaking a bit. "I just... I didn't..."

	"That's fairly common. Tuning out like that means you can 
be startled by anything. It's like the teacher shaking you awake 
in class; quite a shock."

	Akane nodded, relieved. "I think I almost had it. Maybe 
with a bit more practice..."

	Tofu pointed behind her. She slowly turned.

	On the table, the shadow of the candle was spinning and 
spinning, like a bicycle wheel with one spoke.

	Entranced, she made it stop. Then she started it up again, 
all with a thought and a will.

	"Once you learn how, it's instinctual," Tofu said mildly.

	Looking down, Akane stretched out a hand, watched her 
own shadow do the same. She smiled, and opened her hand, held 
the open grasp as her shadow's hand tightened into a fist.

	It strolled across the room, waltzed a bit, then came 
back to fall in step beside her.

	Akane grinned. "This should teach her a thing or two."

	"I daresay it will," Tofu said with a smile of his own. 
"Just be careful. I don't want to have to treat you for any 
serious injuries."

	"I'll be careful," she promised. "Thanks, Doctor Tofu."

	He nodded cheerfully. "If this doesn't do the job, there's 
always... well, never mind. Good luck, Akane."

	"Thanks!" Grinning ear to ear, she raced out the door. A 
bit of practice today, and then tomorrow she'd go looking for 
Tetsuko and settle things.

	Settle things, and show her who was the best.

***

	Nabiki sat on the back porch and watched as Akane went 
through a complex series of leaps, jumps, and aerial kicks. Her 
little sister had been at it for over an hour, and Nabiki was 
beginning to get a little worried.

	After the duel, Akane had seemed... well... a combination 
of enraged and depressed. When she had gotten home from the 
doctor's, she had seemed alternately hopeful and nervous. Now 
she seemed filled with almost unnatural, Ranma-like 
confidence, and was training at a murderous pace.

	Nabiki didn't know the reason for the sudden change, and 
that irritated her. More than irritated, since it was very like 
her sister to rush into something incredibly stupid. And the 
likely object of her stupidity in this instance fought with 
knives and a sharp hook.

	Maybe Ranma took that sort of thing in stride, but she 
didn't. And she didn't think Akane should either.

	"Training for a rematch?" she finally said. "Why don't you 
get Ranma to spar with you?"

	Akane completed a spinning kick, landed, then turned to 
face her sister. "Ranma would... whew... just goof off," she said, 
breath coming in quick bursts. "He won't fight me for real. Or 
even at the levels you need for a decent practice session. God 
knows I've tried to get him to spar in the past."

	"He just doesn't like hitting you, Akane."

	"Oh, please! With the control and skill he has, he could 
wipe the mat with me all day without even causing a bruise. 
DADDY spars with me, Nabiki. Ranma's afraid to get as rough 
with me as my own overprotective father does?"

	Nabiki shrugged. "It's just how he is. No-one ever said 
Ranma was a rational person."

	"You've got that right. Besides, even if he did spar he'd 
pick u..." Akane faltered, and Nabiki shot a suspicious glance at 
her. Something _was_ going on.

	"Pick up on what, Akane?" she asked sweetly.

	Akane shrugged with forced casualness. "Nothing."

	"Bull. Don't try to lie to your older sister, Akane, and I 
won't try taking you on in Kempo. You're out of your area of 
specialty."

	Looking sheepish, Akane chuckled ruefully. "Okay. I 
learned something today to beat Tetsuko with. It's not anything 
major, but it's enough to turn the tide in the next fight."

	"Sure there's going to be a next fight?" Nabiki asked. 
She'd managed to keep all the money she'd taken as the bookie; 
after all, no-one had won, and it said in the fine print that 
there were no refunds. As long as Akane was heading for a 
rematch, Nabiki might as well make a profit out of it.

	"Positive. Tetsuko isn't going to leave until one of us has 
been thoroughly beaten. And it isn't going to be me."

	Nabiki licked her lips nervously. This question wasn't 
going to go down well. "Have you considered throwing the 
fight?"

	Akane started to give her the expected thundercloud look, 
then relaxed a bit. "Actually, I did consider it. For all of two 
seconds. She sort of wants to disfigure me or something, 
Nabiki. If throwing it means letting her do that..."

	"Point." Yeah, a damn scary one.

	"Don't worry. I was winning the first one, and with what 
I've learned... well, it won't be a piece of cake, but my chances 
are a lot better."

	"You're the expert, I guess." The galling thing was that it 
was true; Akane _did_ know more than Nabiki about this sort 
of thing. Having Akane outmatch her in judgment ability was a 
new concept, and not one she particularly liked.

	"I'll look around Nerima for her tomorrow. Even if we 
don't fight, we can at least set a time for another duel."

	"What, you're going to go looking for a fight?" Nabiki 
shook her head. "I think you've been hanging around Ranma and 
Ryouga too much."

	Akane shrugged. "It's going to happen sooner or later. 
Might as well be on terms that I choose, not her."

	Nabiki snorted. "That kind of thinking is was got you in 
this mess in the first place."

	"So? I've been thinking about this, Nabiki, and it really 
doesn't bother me. If anything, it's sort of enjoyable to have 
something to push me."

	She stared at Akane in open disbelief. "You're crazy. A 
psycho with a hook wants to carve you up, and you _like_ 
this?"

	Akane smiled slightly. "You do a lot of deals that could 
burn you, 'neesan. Do you get scared while doing them, or does 
it give you a rush?"

	It gave her one hell of a rush. "That's different," she said 
lamely.

	"Not by much." Akane winked. "Look, the concern is 
touching, but I get enough of that from Ranma. It is so hard to 
accept the fact that I can take care of myself?"

	Nabiki sighed. "Sometimes. I probably won't have thought 
twice about it last year."

	Scowling, Akane looked away. "Tetsuko is a far cry from 
Shampoo. Or Ukyou. She did her worst last time, and I was 
winning."

	"You looked pretty evenly matched to me," Nabiki said 
neutrally. "I think she would have recovered her pole before you 
could get to her."

	"Well, at the very least I wasn't losing." Akane smiled 
slightly. "And this next time... this time, I'll have an edge."

	There didn't really seem to be much she could do, Nabiki 
reluctantly concluded. Besides... maybe Akane was right.

	"Okay. Just remember what you always tell Ranma, and 
don't get cocky."

	Akane looked down slightly. "Ranma never loses," she 
said softly. "I do. I won't be cocky."

	Nodding, Nabiki stood and strolled back inside. Did Ranma 
know, she wondered, about the record he had broken the day he 
arrived? The first real defeat Akane had ever had?

	He probably didn't. It wasn't the last one, anyway. There 
had been a day when Tendo Akane never lost a real fight, was 
unbeatable, a minor legend in the Nerima Kempo circles. No 
more.

	Shrugging, Nabiki settled down on the couch with a good 
book. Maybe this whole thing would salve Akane's pride 
somewhat. It certainly would make her easier to live with.

***

	Tetsuko slouched back towards her current lodging, 
basket of supplies dangling from the end of her pole. Cooking 
items, mostly; ramen noodles and beef and soy. The old woman 
who ran the place was keeping her busy with light but time-
consuming chores, like running to do some shopping.

	Not a bad trade for lodging and food. 

	The injuries she had taken were now only minor 
nuisances, almost healed by a night of rest and a day of active 
rest. Not half bad, and certainly a faster recovery than she had 
planned on. The bitch hit like a ox and kicked like a mule.

	Still, she had been winning. Once she had regained her 
pole and caught Akane coming out of the water, it would have 
been all over. A nice reminder of what defeat was like, and 
then she could leave.

	"Anjin."

	She turned, pole moving into a ready position. Someone 
stood in the shadows of the alley, shape indistinct.

	"When you fight Tendo, use these."

	A small bundle of wrapped paper came skittering of of 
the alley to land at her feet.

	"Who th'hell are you?"

	The shape faded, vanished.

	Calmly, Tetsuko knelt, picked up the parcel, and 
unwrapped it. She stared at the contents in puzzlement.

	What the hell were these for?

	Shrugging slightly, she tucked it into a pocket. Either a 
use would suggest itself, or it wouldn't.

***

	It didn't take Akane long to find out that Tetsuko was 
living out of the Nekohanten. Somehow, it didn't surprise her 
either. Shampoo _would_ harbor her enemies...

	Three days had been more than enough time for her 
injuries to heal, and by now she could make her shadow move 
with hardly any effort at all. Tetsuko would never know what 
hit her.

	So she once again put on a gi and belt... though the 
headband and clogs were left home... and found a nice vantage 
point to watch the restaurant from. Three hours, two manga, 
and a soda later, a familiar, gaunt figure walked out of the 
Nekohanten, heading east towards the shopping district.

	Akane followed. There was a small parklike area along 
the road, where a bridge spanned a small drainage ditch - that 
would make a good field of battle.

	As it came into view, she quickened her pace, ducked 
through a set of sidestreets, and emerged onto the road before 
her rival.

	Tetsuko caught sight of her, blinked, and smiled slightly. 
Akane nodded, and slowly walked backwards into the grassy 
strip that bordered the ditch. Her opponent followed.

	"No samurai t'day, Tendo."

	"Good," Akane replied. "There'll be nothing to save you."

	A cold smile, and the pole lazily spun. "Don't need saving."

	"That's what you think," Akane said, a predatory grin 
breaking across her face. With a shout, she sprang forward in a 
jumpkick.

	Tetsuko's face, calm and dour, smiled. Then frowned. 
Then a tinge of confusion appeared, and then Akane's foot sent 
her flying backwards.

	Landing in a crouch, Akane darted forward. Before the 
other girl could recover, she landed a solid set of punches to 
the midsection, then was forced backwards by a vicious, 
scything swing of the pole.

	Akane leapt again, and this time real panic showed on her 
opponent's face. She landed directly before Tetsuko, the 
flailing pole nicking her arm, and unleashed a windmill kick 
that almost sent the gaunt fisher flying backwards into the 
canal. "Give up?"

	Tetsuko stared at her, pole rotating defensively, calm 
mask tinged with worried bafflement. Then comprehension 
dawned in her eyes. "Shadow."

	Akane nodded, smiling slightly. Merely knowing what it 
was, she had found, didn't help. The confusion it caused was 
instinctual, not logical, and the instincts took time to retrain.

	Tetsuko's hand moved down to her pocket. "C'mon, then."

	"As you wish!" She jumped, the leap somewhat less open 
than the previous ones. No sense taking too many chances...

	The fisher's hand flashed up from her pocket to her face, 
and the pole leapt up with her other hand. In midair, 
descending, Akane saw what her opponent had pulled out.

	Sunglasses.

	Then the hook raked against her side, causing a warm, 
wet feeling to suddenly soak her gi. She landed, stumbling, and 
the blunt end of the pole cracked against her side, her head...

	Akane stumbled back. There was a crimson stain marring 
the yellow of her gi jacket, and her vision was weaving in and 
out...

	You've lost, a tiny voice told her. You're just been badly 
hurt. You've lost.

	Sunglasses. If Tetsuko couldn't _see_ a shadow, it 
couldn't confuse her. It was all over.

	<...If this doesn't do the job, there's always... well, never 
mind. ...> Tofu's words suddenly jumped into her mind. Always 
what?

	Akane winced. Well, this gave them one retreat apiece.

	"Saotome Special Technique!" she yelled, one fist arcing 
into the air. Tetsuko ceased her advance, bracing herself, and 
then Akane turned and ran like hell.

	She heard laughter behind her. "Bain't over, Tendo."

	"Damn right it isn't," she called back. "See you later, 
Anjin."

	Now she just had to get to Doctor Tofu's before she lost 
too much blood. And then, once she was well, she could learn 
what the 'there's always' was.

***

	"Aiyah."

	"T'damn right, Aiyah." The gaunt martial artist shrugged, 
shoulders arching up like clotheshangers. "Shadow jumping 
about. Bain't natural."

	"Is certainly not." Shampoo bit her lip with concern. 
Akane had certainly never done anything like that in the past... 
then again, Akane would occasionally make use of a gimmick 
surprise, relying on it to carry the day. Like the 'strength 
soba'...  a strong but artificial aid. This was probably 
something similar.

	Besides, she told herself, if Tetsuko could counter it, it 
was certainly nothing to trouble Shampoo. She could likely 
defeat Akane and the fisher girl at the same time.

	"Don't like it," Tetsuko muttered, the dour look edging 
from sullen dispassion into anxiety. "Nearly had it, th'first few 
minutes. Would've lost."

	"You send her running like whipped dog. You no worry," 
Shampoo told her.

	"Worry?" Cologne emerged from the kitchen. "About 
what?"

	Shampoo laughed. "Is nothing, Great-grandmother. Akane 
learn to play games with shadows."

	Cologne's face went white.



 Don't believe the human eye
 In shadow or in shade
 The puppet show of light and sound
 Is the devil's masquerade
 -Traditional Song
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C&C is, as always, welcomed and desired.

-ML