***Hello there.  I sent this on Sunday, and apparantly, it did not go
through.  I am going to resend it.  If two copies show up on the FFML, my
apologies. -Me***


Allright, for all those curious, this has nothing to do with It's A Kind
of Magic, or Night Sabers.

Actually, it does, kind of.

You see, while I have been ill (for some time, though I am feeling better), 
and quite busy with real life (annoying as it is, it *is* more important 
than fanfiction), and hanging with friends (who are great guys, but we 
stay out *way* too late sometimes), and busy with work (menial drone-
work though it is), there is another thing that has been sapping my free 
time.

You see, I have a shameful addiction.  Something that has been cutting
into my writing time.

One that has taken up 44:39 hours, according to it (as of this writing).

Since I lack the courage to admit it straight out, here is a little 'fic that 
hints at my secret shame, a little something my delusional mind dreamed 
up at 3:00 am while indulging.  I am not saying explicitly what series I
am crossing over with Ranma; it is up to the reader to figure it out (and
I am not telling.)

Rest assured, I am still working on Night Sabers and It's A Kind of 
Magic.  Writers block and other factors make the going hard, but I 
persevere, never fear!

Note that this has *not* been sent to any pre-readers.  Expect grammar and
spelling errors.

Consider this semi-spam, or a writing exercise, as you will.  I do not plan 
to continue this.  I just needed to get it off my chest.



Resurrected Memories

A Ranma/???(Guess)??? X-over

Written by Me (aka Curtiss Nelson)



	Genma sat looking at Ranma across the small fire they had 
made, absently chewing on the bread buns they had purchased from the 
village vendor.  His Chinese was still very lacking, but Genma had still 
managed to convey, by showing the money and pointing, what he 
desired.  They had quite a bit of money, much yuan, but he was more 
worried than ever.
	It was the boy.  Ranma.  His son.  The boy had started to 
change when they arrived in China.  Where once his hair had been 
black, though frequently dirty, now had ever-growing streaks of grey.  It 
seemed every day, his hair would become lighter.  Yet it was not age.  
His face remained the youthful smoothness it always had possessed.  
But it wasn't just the hair.  His eyes had changed as well, the sapphire 
blue bleeding into splotches of green, which were becoming 
increasingly dominant.  The green seemed to infuse the eyes, making 
them vibrant, almost intense, like those of a madman.  And his attitude 
had shifted.  Where once Ranma had been happy and cocky, he was 
now brooding and dark.
	Ranma was staring at three stones, gems, which he held 
clenched in his fist.  Genma had observed the blue-grey stone and the 
two yellow stones, and knew them to be almost valueless; they were 
unlike any gems he had ever seen.  Not that he would try to steal or take 
them from the boy.  Where once they might have had a fight, Genma 
wouldn't be surprised if Ranma would maim or kill him.
	Ranma had found the stones by digging over four meters 
straight down in the dirt, uncovering the stones and the deteriorated 
stones that held them.  Genma had thought the boy daft when he 
started to dig in the spot, no different than any other.  Ranma's only 
comment had been "The Earth called me."  Bizarre.
	Ever since he had found the stones, Ranma had changed even 
more.  His skill at the lethal forms of martial arts, something Genma had 
been loath to teach Ranma, had grown.  So well, that he had killed an 
attacking wild dog with one blow.  And Ranma had developed skills at 
thievery to rival Genma's own.
	Still reflecting, Genma looked at Ranma.  Unlike he normally 
would, Ranma paid no mind to the appraisal.  He had forgone his 
somewhat typical clothes, instead donning an entirely black kung-fu 
uniform.  He simply sat on the log that was his support, the only motion 
his hand, which spun the gemstones in his hand like Chinese stress 
balls.  His changing eyes were not on the gems, though.  His eyes 
remained rivetted on the fire, seeing something only he could see.
	Genma cleared his throat, trying to break the ice, "It's a good 
thing you managed to steal that money from those bandits before the 
authorities arrived."  Genma was careful not to mention the fact that 
Ranma had nearly killed two of the criminals.  Or, until recently, Ranma 
would never stoop to the necessity of stealing.
	"Uh," Ranma grunted, looking the fire through the gemstones.  
Then his gaze rose to the Northwest, searching.
	"At any rate, I've found the ideal training location for us," 
Genma proudly announced, holding up a brochure that said 'Jusenkyo' 
in Mandarin.
	Genma was somewhat surprised by the lack of enthusiasm in 
Ranma's face, but hurried on.
	"It's wonderful.  According to what I understand, it's a 
legendary training ground.  A place cursed with the deaths of 
thousands, only springs remaining to remind the people of where brave 
warriors fell in the pursuit of martial excellence!"  Genma looked at 
Ranma.  "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
	Ranma looked at Genma, like a snack might look at a curious 
rodent.  "Where is it?"  Ranma asked, voice cold.
	When had the boy become so quiet?  So withdrawn?  So 
unwilling to talk about himself?  None-the-less, Genma squinted at the 
map, then pointed in a Northwesternly direction.
	"Perfect", Ranma smiled, a smile with no warmth or humanity in 
it.
	Genma looked at Ranma, then shrugged, and started to toss 
the garbage to the side, in the bushes, when Ranma's eyes snapped 
wide open, shining green, and he leapt to his feet.  Before Genma could 
blink, Ranma had darted forward, and kicked Genma solidly under the 
chin, flattening him on his back.  Genma tried to get up, when he felt a 
sharp pressure on his throat, cutting off his air.
	"Do not foul this planet any more than humanity already has, 
you filth!" Ranma growled, his eyes flashing as he leaned forward, "Or 
your body shall serve to nurture that which you have raped!"
	Genma only lay motionless until, muttering to himself, Ranma 
released him and wandered off.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	They stood before the vast, mist-shrouded pools of Jusenkyo, 
the valley and poles obscured by the fog that blanketed the sky and 
ground.  The bamboo poles stood like the spears of fallen warriors, 
upraised to prevent those thieves who would defile their graves from 
finding the treasure they sought.
	"This doesn't seem so special", Genma commented, not terribly 
impressed.
	As they stood stood there, both Japanese gradually became 
more and more aware of the approach of a pudgy Chinese man dressed 
in an army surplus uniform.  Ranma and Genma went to meet him.
	"Welcome sirs!" the Guide said, puffing, speaking Japanese as 
he recognized the nationality of the bald man.  "You come to famous 
training ground of cursed springs, Jusenkyo!  Each spring here have 
very tragic tale- oh, sir, what you doing?  I no finished with story yet!" 
The Guide turned and ran after the other customer.
	"Ranma?" Genma asked, as Ranma resolutely marched towards 
the center of the valley, ignoring the two older men as they chased after 
him.
	Ranma did not so much ignore the two as much as he refused 
to acknowledge their existence.  There, in the center of the valley, he 
could hear- no, *feel*- what had called to him.  It was somewhere 
directly ahead.
	Ever since his father had taken him on one of his "training 
trips", Ranma had heard the plaintive call, no matter what the distance.  
The longing, the sorrow it projected.  Ranma knew he had to find it.  
Ever since that "training trip."  It had been different.  Not the crippling 
fear he felt when he was around c...c.c...c...a...a....tt.s.s.. as a result of the 
cc...c..a...t... fist "training".  Rather, this had existed since his emergence 
from that odd "tank."
	The Chinese tongs had found the ancient metal contraption.  
They had sworn to all comers that all who survived the irradiation of 
multi-colored lights had become stronger.  Those who survived that 
was.  It seemed that many died as a result of the irradiation.  Many more 
had emerged from the device insane or disfigured.  But his idiot father 
had been wined and dined by the leaders of the Tong, talked into 
subjecting him to the effects of the tank.  Ranma had learned of this 
when he came to, paralyzed, floating in the odd device.
	Yet as he had floated in the tank, saturated with the sparks of 
energy, of M-... m-something energy, his lifeforce draining away, he had 
been visited by the one who would save his life.  He had seen it, felt and 
seen the spirit form of the man approach him, nude, formed of the M-
energy.  It had merged with him,  allowing him to survive, teaching him 
things... but Ranma also knew the being, the man inside him, wanted 
something that lay within the pool up ahead.  More of the magic 
gemstones.  And something... else.
	"Ranma!  Hee-yah!" Genam shouted as he launched a flying 
kick at Ranma's back, tired of being ignored.
	Who simply side-stepped, moving so fast he seemed to 
shimmer and teleport to the side, and with a backhanded fist, sent 
Genma flashing ten meters to the side, into one of the pools of water.
	Ranma ignored the sound of the splash.  Actually, all sound 
seemed muted.  Quiet.  But he could hear, feel it.  The sounds the grass 
made.  The song of the trees.  Of the birds.  The water.  The sky.  Earth.
	Before him was the pool.  Deep within the depths, was the 
beckoning.
	For a moment, his resolve wavered.  Then Ranma straightened, 
made his decision.
	And jumped into the placid pool, sinking as though he were 
made of lead, leaving no ripple to mar the surface of the pool, his body 
enveloped by the living water.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Genma floated in the heavy liquid, trying to tread water, when 
suddenly, all sound stopped.  Time stopped.
	(Who are you?) came a voice from nowhere.
	"I am Genma Saotome, of the Saotome School of-"  Genma 
started to bluster.
	(You are a coward.)
	"Genma Saotome is no such thing!" Genam roared, a little 
scared and stung by the last remark.
	(You are a traitor.)
	"A traitor?!" Genma shouted, even as the accusation stabbed 
him.
	(You betray your own flesh and blood.)  Images of Ranma, and 
the Cat-fist training.
	(You betray what you once were.)  Images of himself and 
Nodoka, laughing, hugging one another as Genma placed a hand on her 
swelling belly, as they discussed their plans for the future and their 
family.
	(You betray what you could be.)  A silhouette.
	"Why do you torment me?" Genma screamed.
	(Because we are alike.  I was a traitor as well.  And by my 
actions, I brought great sorrow.  So to will you reap what you have 
sown.)
	"What?"
	(You are the one I have sought.)
	"Why?"
	(To make amends.  To change fate.  And...)
	"And?"
	(To see if the fortune I told will in truth come true.)
	"What?"
	(Time to awaken.)



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	The Guide looked at the spring the older Japanese male had 
fallen into, only to pull back as _something_ came out.
	What looked like nothing more than a small, anthropomorphic 
cat, black with white chasing,  wearing a gold crown and red cape, 
sitting on what looked like a short, plump, yet large creature.  The larger 
creature was white, tinted pink, which had massive feet and hands, twin 
fangs jutting from the lower jaw, and tiny bat wings from the back.  As 
the Guide watched, the cat coughed, rubbing one tiny fist across its 
eyes, and straightened its crown.  The creature it rode mimicked the 
cat's every action.  The entire sequence looked very comical.
	"Oh sir, what thing you become?  King cat riding short and fat 
yeti?"
	Genma blinked the water out of his eyes, immediately noticing 
something was wrong.  "What happened?" he yowled, startled by his 
new, high-pitched voice.  He seemed to be riding some _thing_, a 
bloated and fat creature, pink highlights on the white, which mimicked 
his motions.  The motions of his thin and *black* arms, which end in 
three fingered hands contained in puffy white gloves.
	"I not know sir.  You fallen in Spring of Drowned-drunken-
dragon-who-catch-hill-disease-because-she-fly-too-low.  But you no 
stupid dragon with bad breath."  The Guide looked puzzled.
	"What?" Genma howled.
	"Sir, you fallen in Jusenkyo Spring.  Each spring here have 
very tragic legen of creature that tragically drown here.  Anyone who 
fallen in spring cursed to take form of drowned creature when splashed 
with cold water.  No worry much though.  Hot water change you back."
	Trying to digest this, Genma remembered the conversation he 
had dreamed while in the spring.  "Where is my son?" he asked in his 
high voice.
	The Guide looked guilty.  "Ah, sir.  Son fallen in spring where 
no one drown before.  When some fall in such spring, they drown sir.  
Make new spring."
	Genma immediately began to run for the spring.  The crystal-
clear blue waters were clear, fortunately.  Clear enough that he could 
that his own new reflection.
	But no Ranma.
	A slow glow began at the bottom of the spring, deep in the 
water.
	(What the?) Genma wondered.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Ranma slowly sank downwards into the deep spring.  Down 
farther, as the light started to dim.  Yet at the bottom, there was a new 
glow, another source of light.
	Like in the tank of swirling lights, more motes of light appeared, 
and Ranma felt another presence approaching.  Unlike the other time, 
this presence was definitely female, not male.  It was also a warm and 
calming presence, even as Ranma felt his lungs burning from the lack of 
air.  Warm and comforting, unlike the other one, who had been brooding 
and harsh.
	The figure of the presence fell toward him, becoming clearer 
and solid as her hair fanned out.  The young woman was somewhere 
between medium and tall, and her hands were folded over her heart as 
she rolled over.  She seemed almost lifeless, until her bright green eyes 
opened, warm and welcoming, rather than the mesmerizing and 
commanding green eyes of the other.  Closer she fell towards him, as 
Ranma began to black out from lack of oxygen.  Her arms opened, as 
though to embrace him, and Ranma replied in kind, his fading strength 
allowing him to open his arms.  He could almost feel the silky strands of 
her long brown hair.
	And then they were one.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Ranma found himself floating over a young, blond haired man 
in some sort of blue uniform.  Suddenly, Ranma _was_ the young man.
	The woman from the spring, the presence, appeared before 
him, shimmering, partly translucent.  She knelt before him, wiping away 
some of his tears, and gave him a warm and comforting hug.
	(You were my bodyguard,) she said in his mind, as she hugged 
Ranma.
	The hug became even closer.  (You were also a thief, who stole 
my heart,) she sighed, a trace of longing and wistfulness in her mind-
voice.
	(But more than anything else, you were my dear friend,) she 
said, crying.
	For some reason, even though guys don't cry, Ranma found 
himself crying as well.
	(Don't blame yourself for my death!) she admonished, wiping 
away her tears.
	Ranma realized then that he was no longer the blond young 
man, but his normal self.
	(I made my own choice!) she stated, (Understand?)
	Ranma just looked at her.
	(I won't let him have you!) she declared fiercely, (We beat him 
once, we can do it again!)
	Her green eyes were strong with determination.
	(Okay?) she asked.
	Ranma nodded, knowing what she was asking.
	Smiling, she leaned forward and kissed.
	Then floated into him, turning, until she was an overlay over 
him.
	And then they were one.
	The dream world dissolved.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Genma watched as the glow in the bottom of the spring began 
to grow brighter, the illumination climbing up the sides of the spring 
with greater and greater acceleration.
	Caution the greater part of valor, as always for Genma, he 
turned and started to run.  The Guide, approaching with a kettle, quickly 
saw the fleeing, recently cursed Japanese man, the green radiance from 
the spring, put 2 and 2 together, getting five, and turned and ran, 
splashing Genma with the hot water from the kettle as his arm swung.
	A rumble felt, not heard, began to build, growing stronger and 
stronger with each frantic beating of the hearts of the two men.  The 
green light intensified, starting become the brilliance of the sun.  Soon it 
reached an apex, and then it happened.
	The mouth of the spring vomitted forth a brilliant column of 
green light that touched the heavens.  For what must be miles around, 
daylight vanished, replaced by the lurid green glow.
	Both of the men simply stared in awe at the sight.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Ranma found himself at the bottom of the spring, his slippered 
feet sinking into the slightly muddy sand, before they reached the rock 
the silt covered.  The water of the spring greatly wafted around him.
	He also dimly noted some changes.  The hair on his head felt.... 
heavier, and something was pulling the nape of his neck.  His chest 
seemed to weigh a lot more, having gained two rounded and sensitive 
pertubrances.  His arms, at the elbows, seemed to be able to swing out a 
little farther than usual, and his legs, at the hips, seemed to twist a little 
different.  He also seemed to be.... missing.... something.  Something 
important.  But all these observations vanished as new sensation made 
itself known.
	PAIN.  As agonizing source of fury in his belly.  A screaming 
point of cold from which waves of fire radiated out.  It was as though 
something had stabbed through him.
	Reaching for the source of the agony, Ranma found something 
cold and hard.  Apparantly, he had landed on a timber or somthing.  
Whatever it was, it hurt.  He was also having trouble grabbing it, as 
something seemed to have caused his chest to swell, forcing him to lean 
his shoulders forward to grasp and remove it.
	Only to cut himself.  Damn, it was sharp!  Carefully feeling 
about, each touch sending fresh waves of agony from the wound.  He 
had been impaled, clearly.
	Touching the sword, for that is what it must be.  Ranma also 
discovered it must be very long.  He estimated at least five feet, and 
even then he could not reach either the point or hilt of the weapon.  
Fortunately, for explainable reason, there seen to be holes in the blade.  
Eight holes, with a small groove linking two holes into a pair, for sets of 
pairs.
	Using the holes as handholds, Ranma pulled the blade from his 
belly, inch by agonizing inch.  After a considerable time, Ranma pulled 
the massive sword from himself, and dropped it.  It made an audible 
clank as it struck something metallic, clearly heard through the medium 
of water.
	Blinking, Ranma realized he wasn't breathing.  He somehow 
knew that that was okay, but soon he would have to surface.  Looking 
down, Ranma sought the source of the noise.  There in the soft soil, 
looking like nothing more than luminous eggs, glowed stones like those 
had found earlier.  Reaching down, Ranma started to stuff them in his 
backpack.  There had to be over thirty.
	Ranma stopped, then looked over at the seven foot long 
sword.  It vaguely looked like a no-dachi, yet this sword only very 
slightly curved until the last two feet, where it curved a bit more.  He 
had never seen the sword before in his life, but somehow, Ranma 
remembered.  Despite the fact part of him was resisting taking it, another 
part was eagerly reaching for the blade.  That part, along with his own 
curiousity won out, and Ranma grabbed the black leather bound hilt.
	Ranma knew what to do.  He reached for the stones, carefully 
selecting four blue-grey stones.  He also selected four green stones and 
paired them, a green and blue-grey to each linked slots.  That finished, 
he turned his attention to the other items.
	There seem to be an elaborate set of bracers, gilded and 
decorated at the fittings in gold, silver, and platinum.  The actual pieces 
were unrelieved metal.  But they had four holes in each bracer, holes like 
those in the sword.
	While he had occasionally worn bracers, Ranma had never 
worn them as formal armor.  But Ranma found himself strapping them on 
with ease.  They fit him like a glove, custom-made.  Grinning, though he 
knew the lack of oxygen would soon wear off, Ranma reached into his 
bag, and attached more of the stones.  A few more of the green, some 
blue-grey stones, but mostly yellow stone and red ones with a few pink 
gems.
	There also seemed to be a little treasure of sorts.  Rings, coats, 
pendants, and talismans.  Ranma scooped up what he could, dumped 
the lot in his sack.  He grabbed one of the ribbons, and tied his longer 
hair off.
	There was also an odd staff to one side.  It looked as though 
two staffs had been merged together to oform a staff a head on each 
end.  One way an elaborate construct with the now familiar holes for the 
stones.  Three pairs, and one solo hole.  But the other staff had no 
holes.  Indeed, it seemed to be an umbrella... a parasol?
	Once again, there was an argument within himself; on epart of 
him wanted the weapon, another part loathed it.  This time the two were 
reversed.  But once again, curiosity won out.  Shrugging, Ranma added 
more of his stones, three blue-grey paired with a green, and one pink 
stones.
	Ranma hoisted his backpack, at a loss, knew he had to surface 
soon, but he was far too weighed down.  Then, a green light started to 
fill the water.  And with a surge, he was launched up.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Genma and the Guide, for whom only a few seconds had 
passed, saw a pulse of light.  It flung up, the corona revealing a ring of 
light, within which a woman floated.
	She was beautiful, in a warm and caring sort of way.  She was 
wearing a pink dress of sturdy material, with a red coat over it.  Her hair, 
though wet, was in a ponytail, and long and brown.  Even closed, the 
slits from her eyes were a vivid green.
	In one hand, she held a massive sword, thin and long, in which 
the blade had studied a series of repeating blue-grey and green stones.  
The other hand held a staff merged with an umbrella, the metal studded 
with more gemstones.  The woman wore Ranma's backpack.
	The light began to dim.  Then the woman began to float down 
to the water.  The light soon faded, and the feet of the woman touched 
the placid pool.  They stood firm, as though on glass, and the last of the 
sparks of light ended.  The woman walked across the water towards 
Genma and the Guide who stared in shock at her.
	Ranma opened his eyes, and found both his father and the 
Chinese man staring in shock at him.  But he ignored them, instead 
staring at the sword in his hand.  It was long, unwieldy... but 
something... something...  His green eyes narrowed.
	Ranma flashed into motion, the sword a silver blur as it lashed 
out at nearby rock, shattering it with explosive force, the slashes cutting 
through the geological product.  Then it was done, and Ranma 
flourished the sword before he sheathed it.
	The Guide watched in shock as the young woman became a 
blur of action, and was even more shocked when he saw the woman 
sheath the sword, the sword _cutting through the ground_ as it went to 
her side.
	Ranma blinked, and then realized that his father and the 
Chinese man were looking at him.  Even more odd, he seemed odd....  
His back muscles were screaming from some sudden weight on his 
chest.
	Looking down Ranma noticed he couldn't see his shoes.  His 
chest... his chest....
	Ranma reached down, and unlaced the dress he seemed to be 
wearing.  With a sense of the unreal, Ranma was confronted by two 
breast, full and womanly.
	"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?!" screamed Ranma, waving the 
sword at the Guide and Genma.
	Both looked at each other, then the sword, and decided that it 
would be best to get hot water.  Very quickly.  They started to run.
	Ranma stared in shock at the sight, touching the sensitive 
mammaries hesitantly.  They were real.
	Closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, Ranma brought his 
hand down between his legs, hesitantly, carefully.
	To find nothing.
	His girlish scream echoed throughout Jusenkyo.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	The shock could not last forever.  And even though he had 
collapsed, hands on the ground, fingers grabbing at the curling grass, 
Ranma could not lose himself in unconciousness.
	For he felt it, as he knelt in the ground.  Knew it.
	The water, it seemed to sing to him.  The plants hummed 
contently.  The birds trilled their joy.
	But above all, he could feel the Earth.  It touched everything.  
It was his mother.  Mother of all.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Genma and the Guide came back, racing.  There knelt the 
woman, his son Ranma cursed, and Genma grinned.  There was one 
thing that he could do, and that was return his boy to his true sex.
	The Guide reached the younger customer first.  His kettle 
swung, the stream of hot water striking the woman.
	The bracers on the woman seemed to glow, as the dress 
vanished, leaving her clad in a black kung-fu outfit.  Then the woman 
herself changed, becoming the young Japanese teen who had entered 
the valley.
	But the gray in the hair was gone.  And his green splotched 
eyes were now clear blue.
	Genma saw the change in his son.  The return of the shocked 
and frustrated look in his eyes.  The cocky set of his mouth.
	Overjoyed, Genam flung his arms open to embrace his boy.  
"Ranma!"
	Ranma turned at the sound, looking at his father.
	Just in time to catch the hot water from Genma's kettle, flung by 
the motion of his arms, full across the chest.
	Ranma's clothes changed, remaining black, but becoming a 
trenchcoat assembly, with grey shoulder pads and occasional 
highlights.
	Then Ranma's body changed.  His hair became snow white, 
and long, reaching the small of his back, several strands escaping the 
ribbon.  His eyes became a feverish and bright green, as his face gained 
hard and harsh edges.  It was like Ranma had become someone else.
	Ranma screamed, clutching his head, as someone stuck a hot 
poker in his brain.  The world around vanished.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	It was a place of darkness, a formless void.  His own mind, he 
knew.  Yet Ranma was spectator in his own mind.
	The woman, the one he had seen in his dream and in the 
reflection of the pool, stood to one side, a staff in one hand, as she 
faced another.
	The other was a young man, yet older then Ranma, with white 
hair and green eyes.  He was intense, almost brutal in power.
	They were arguing.
	"Out of my way, traitor to the Ancients!" the white-haired man 
said.
	"Traitor?  You would betray the sacrafice of *my* people, you 
insane clone!" the woman shot back.
	"I will free mother, and crush humanity!"  the man proclaimed.
	"We beat you once, I will do it again!" the woman cried.
	The two of them flashed into conflict.  Before Ranma's eyes, 
the two unleashed what could only be called spells.  Magic and other 
sorceries.  Spells that summoned creatures briefly, to pummel the rival 
mage.  And sword and staff met each other in combat.
	After a small eternity, it was over, and the man found himself 
near defeat, driven to one knee.
	"I told you.  Now die!" the woman cried, blood obscuring one 
eye, as she raised her staff.
	The man merely chuckled, grinning.  "True.  I made a mistake.  
In killing you, I gave him the resolve to defeat me.  And turned him 
away from the truth."
	"What?" the woman drew back.
	The man raised himself hesitantly.  "He believed your lies 
because your death put blinders on him.  I shall rip away these 
handicaps", the man coughed up.
	The woman was speechless.
	"After all, he was enhanced and created to be my successor.  
What do you think will happen when he opens his _own_ eyes?  Sees 
the devastation wrought by the human vermin?  Feels the pain of 
Mother Earth?"
	The woman shook her head, hands to mouth, tears starting to 
form in the corner of her eyes.
	"You haven't beaten me!  I *chose* to free him from both your 
and mine control!  I am not surrendering, for I have decided to die!"
	The woman started to back away.
	Eyes brilliant green bored into the woman. "Do you not see?  
He will not just _become_ me.  He will become even greater than me!  
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed the man, as he started to fade away.
	The woman turned to Ranma.  She realized the last action of 
her foe had been to give Ranma all of his knowledge.  She had to 
counter such influence.  Using her last remaining strength, she gave him 
in part *her* knowledge, before gathering what remained, and streaking 
away to find another.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Ranma blinked, coming to awareness.  (A dream?) he 
wondered.
	"Ranma?" came a voice, his father.
	Ranma turned his head, finding the simple motion difficult.
	He seemed to be in some crude home.  The Guide's home, if he 
had to guess.  A massive sword and staff leaned to one side.  That 
sword; that staff.  It wasn't a dream.
	"Ranma, can you hear me?"  Genma asked, concerned.
	"I can hear you fine, old man", Ranma hoarsely growled.
	Genma gave a grin, still worried.  "You've been out for three 
days,"  Genma stated, answering Ranma's unstated question.
	Ranma tried to sit up, waving off his father's hands.  Strapped 
to his wrists were the ornate bracers, the gems glowing faintly.  
Focussing on them, not knowing how he knew, but knowing still, his 
black kung-fu outfit changed, becoming heavier and more comfortable 
clothes.
	Reaching over, Ranma grabbed the sword, and a piece of 
leather from his backpack, and began to wrap the blade.
	Throughout this, Genma remained silent.
	Finished, Ranma looked through his backpack, finding some of 
the magic stones gone.  Unconcerned, Ranma grabbed some of the gold 
coins he had found, and gave them to the Guide, who had just entered.
	"Oh sir, you-"
	The look in Ranma's eyes stopped his speech, and he 
wordlessly accepted the gold.
	Ranma took the Ribbon from the table, tying his hair into a 
ponytail.  He changed his belt into a sword-belt, and sheathed the 
sword.  And with his backpack on his back, the staff strapped on as 
well, Ranma turned to his father.
	"It is time to go."
	Genma looked at Ranma.  "Go?"
	Ranma tried to distinguish the voice of his father from the 
thousands of voices of nature.  He succeeded, and answered.
	"It is time to go home."



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	It had been five weeks since they had left Jusenkyo, and 
Genma's concern for Ranma had only grown.
	Ranma had, more or less, returned to the "normal" Ranma he 
was used to.  He had been horrified to discover he turned into a girl, and 
liked turning into the white-haired man even less.  He still studied 
martial arts.
	But he also studied with the staff and sword.  Indeed, he 
practiced with a fluidity that only a master could have.  His sword 
technique was brilliant and vicious.  And his staff technique was good 
as well, though he did have a tendency to finish moves with a twirl of 
the staff, and then try to sheath the staff on his back.
	Yet it was the things Ranma *knew* that disturbed Genma.  
Knowledge of places Genma had never heard of.  Of herbalism, and 
science.  Torture and killing.  Yes, those disturbed him.  But so did the 
other.
	The power.  Somehow, Ranma knew how to use the power of 
his stones.  Channel the magic he seemed to have gain.  Genma had 
practiced with those he had stolen, but his effects had been minor and 
physically draining.
	Not so with Ranma.  Once, they had run across a disaster in a 
village.  A flood had broken out.  Genma had moved to help, but 
Ranma's reaction had been different.
	He had drawn forth his mighty sword, and one pair of the grey-
blue and green stones had flared with light.  Immediately, the ground 
had rumbled as though a great earthquake had struck.  A series of rents 
in the ground had opened, forming a trench to divert the water.  And 
then another pair of stones had glowed, and the water had become as 
ice, hardening into walls to shield the people.
	Then the miracle had happened.  The stones on the bracers 
had flared to life, and the people had been... changed.  Where once 
grevious wounds had been, unblemished flesh remained.
	And most shocking of all, where once had been families weep 
in sorrow at departed members of the family,  now there were cries of 
joy, as departed relatives arose, fully healed.
	That frightened Genma.  As much as the times Ramna would 
stand there, listening to something only he could hear.  And his odd 
drive to return to Japan.
	Ranma gestured, and Genma followed.  Down to the port.  
Where the ship awaited.
	And then, Japan.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Akane looked at the pile of bricks in front of her.  They 
remained there.
	For some time, ever since her father had told her of the eminent 
arrival of his friends, Akane had felt something.  An odd disquiet, and a 
disappointment with her current martial arts skill.
	Looking at the pile of bricks, and then the training dummy, it 
came to her.
	"Beat Rush!" she cried, as she ran forward to the dummy.  
Akane gave two quick punches, and a kick, exploding the dummy.
	"Yatta!" she cried, overjoyed, feeling a sense of completion.
	Now if only the young man was cute.  She had a feeling he 
would be.  She hated boys... but she had a feeling this one would be like
a cloud on a hot day; welcome and pleasant.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Nabiki lay on her stomach in her room, kicking her legs as she 
read a manga.  Futaba-kun Change was an interesting manga, detailing 
some of the realities of such a situation, but nothing so ridiculous 
would ever happen in real life.  Fun, but not very serious.  Though that 
damn fly was annoying.
	Ignoring the insect, Nabiki looked at the pile of mail by her 
pillow, along with her letter opener.  She wanted to read it, but penpals 
seemed less and less important.  Ever since that postcard, and her 
father's revelation, things had changed.  She felt more and more 
disgusted with her father's complacency.  With the poor state of 
finances at the dojo.  At how he was willing to let everything slide, and 
her family more dishonored.  She was smart, sneaky, and cute when she 
wanted to be, and the guy always paid attention to the other girls.  
Never her!  Always the others!  Not this time!  She would get him this 
time, even if he had been too stupid to realize her interest the first
time! It pissed her off!  Like that damn, annoying insect!
	Grabbing the letter opener, Nabiki, flung it at the insect.  Much 
to her shock, the letter opener hit the fly, killing it, before striking the 
wall, blunt end first, and then bouncing back into her hand.
	Nabiki looked at the letter opener.
	(Wow.  That was almost like... almost like...)
	Then it came to her.
	(Greased Lightning.)



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Dr. Tofu entered his clinic, tossed his keys and wallet on the 
table, then regarded the other object on the table.
	Tofu looked at the porcelain bottle his former teacher from high 
school had given him.
	That Fujisawa!  First his tales of another world.  Marrying a 
gaijin was bizarre enough, but to make up such a story!  And now this 
one, after returning from China and his mountain climbing!  Cursed 
springs!  Shapeshifting!  Ha!  What a kidder!
	A little tired and a wee bit drunk from some partying, Tofu
chuckled as he grabbed the bottle.  With a flip of his thumb, he popped
the top of the bottle, and dumped it on his head.
	A howl erupted, shocking the neighbors for blocks around.
	The door to clinic was nosed open, as a large animal, blood red 
in color, adorned with spiked color, looking like a cross between wolf 
and hunting cat, exitted.
	The creature scratched his nose, before commenting in a 
precise and fluent voice.
	"Well, that was unexpected, wasn't it?"



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Kasumi hummed happily as she cleaned the dishes.  She 
always enjoyed cleaning.  It made everything so nice and perfect.
	But it wasn't working.  Ever since her father's announcement, a 
longing and void in her heart had become known.  The thought of a 
dashing and brave fiancee, having journeyed through the vastness of 
China.
	Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Kasumi saw, as 
impossible as it seemed, the transparant image of a brown-haired woman 
with startling green eyes rush toward her.
	And into her.
	Kasumi blinked, as a bright happiness filled her.
	Flowers!  That is what she needed.  Flowers made her feel 
better, and always brightened up the day.
	Kasumi went to gather some.  And dress a little nicer, though 
still homely.  This time, she would be careful.
	This time, he would be hers.



*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*



	Genma watched as Ranma approached the gate of the Saotome 
home.
	He had tried to stop the boy, but one glare had stopped him.  
The boy had become more and more moody.  He kept fingering the two 
stones on a chain he wore, one white and one black, which sparked 
when they touched each other.  He seemed to be weighing them, almost 
as if trying to decide something, make a choice.
	Ranma advanced to the door, and knocked, sword at one side, 
staff on back with backpack, bracers on wrists, and two thermos in one 
hand, and a bulb in the other.
	Nodoka heard the knock on the door, opening the wooden 
portal.  "Yes, what can I-" she began, only to stop in shock, dropping 
the gardening spade she was holding.
	Ranma stood as tears started to form in the corners of his 
mother's eyes.  Somewhere, something was coming together in his mind.
	"My son?  Can it be you?" Nodoka breathed, daring to hope.  
It had to be!  There was her Darling, hiding back by the gate.  She would 
recognize his bald head anywhere.
	She reached out to embrace her son.  "It is you!  What a man 
you have become!" Nodoka babbled.  He was quite dashing and good-
looking.  The girls probably all wanted such a manly man.  And he had a 
sword!  She was a ken-jutsu master!  They had common ground.
	But Ranma stepped back, denying the Embrace.
	She looked at him in confusion.
	Ranma shook his head.  "There are things you must know 
first."
	And he explained it to her.  His training trip.  His curse.  How 
his father had trained him.  What had happened.
	Nodoka alternated between shooting baleful glares at Genma 
and apologetic looks full of love and regret at her only son.  At the same 
time, something inside her screamed at her.  Warning her, filling her with 
dread.
	Ranma grinned inside.  At last, he had completion.  At last, he 
was whole.  At last, the cycle was finished.
	Ranma splashed himself with cold water, becoming his female 
self.
	Nodoka stared at her son become her daughter, a disquiet 
entering her.  Something about those green eyes.
	Ranma splashed himself with the thermos, one after the other, 
the first restoring him to his normal form, the other making him the 
white-haired warrior.
	Nodoka backed away, horror and terror welling in her.
	With one last splash of cold water, Ranma became his normal 
self.
	"Ofukuro..." Ranma muttered, as he closed his eyes to the 
terrified woman before him.
	He opened his eyes, as they started to change.
	"Ofukuro...."
	His blue eyes became cloudy.
	"Lucrecia...."
	His eyes became solid green.
	"Jenova....."
	His eyes flared like green stars, as a savage grin lit his face.
	"Ofukuro.... I've come home."



End.



No, I don't intend to continue this...


*No, I will not!*



At least, *probably* not....



P.S.:  For those who are curious, 'Ofukuro' is the term Ranma uses when 
addressing his mother.  It is a word used by those fluent in a Southern
dialect of Japanese, which means the same thing as 'Okaa-san'. (If I
remember correctly, that is.)


And if you couldn't figure out what this was an X-over with, I have only 
have pity for you, and no answers, so don't bother E-mailing me.  (Sorry 
about that.  I am not meaning to be a jerk.  I just think it is pretty
obvious. -Me)


Any comments or criticism (I forsee a *lot* of the latter), please direct to 
Curtiss Nelson or curtiss@seattleu.edu.