As with my previous post about this story, C&C is requested, but
flames will be ignored. BTW, for the character of Tokugawa 
Akahito, I just pictured a Japanese Jack Palance...scary...

Standard Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this 
fic are the property of their respective creators. 
Please don't sue me, I have no money.

                      Desert Moon
                A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction
                 By Valandar the Red


                      Chapter One
              Haven't We been Here Before?

     Akemi ducked under the first punch, and swiftly 
dropped her left forearm to deflect the one aimed at
her midsection. Her foot lashed out for her opponant's
feet, but they weren't there. She instinctively dove
forward as a high roundhouse kick passed through where
her head would have been. Spinning, she used the mom-
entum of her turn to add a little extra force to a 
block, and flickered out with a swift jab to her
opponant's face. Of course it wasn't there, the other
person was simply too fast for her to touch. Before
she could withdraw the offending limb, it was snared,
and she found herself flying through the air, landing
in the koi pond behind the dojo.
     Pulling herself out of the water, she just looked 
at the winner of the match. "So, Mom, when am I going
to be ready for Chestnut Fist training? You and Dad
have been putting me off for a while, now."
     Akane laughed. "You're just about ready. Remember,
you've got more power than your brother, which is why
we started you with Kyokushinkai, and taught him Kempo.
Now, go get cleaned up for breakfast, and I'll have it
ready by the time you come down."
     Ranma and Ryouga clapped. "Wow, Akane, you've 
gotten even faster since the last time I saw you fight,"
said the Lost Man. 
     "Maybe," she said, "but I'm still nowhere near
Ranma was back in High School. At least I can do the
Chestnut Fist, though. It took me until ten years after
we graduated to finally get it."
     "But you got it," added Ranma. "Okay, piggy, time
for _our_ match." He grinned evilly, and began to
crack his knuckles. "Let's do it."
     This poor author has not the words to describe the
bout that followed. It was simply an explosion of sheer
skill between two great martial artists. Time may have
sapped some small amount of speed and strength from the
height of their youth, but the precision and focus they
displayed overcame that drawback. Each maneuver was
flawless, and the countermove perfection. Akemi had
returned from her bath, and Akane had already started
cooking breakfast, before Ranma even scored the first
touch, let alone struck with enough force to affect his
stocky partner. By unspoken agreement, they did not use
any special maneuvers, as their power had grown to the
point where they could easily destroy a large section
of the city if the fight grew out of hand.
     "Breakfast is ready!" came the cry that interrupted 
this epic sparring session. Both froze, each others'
fists inches aray from the other's face. They broke into
grins, clapped each other on the shoulder, and walked
in to eat.
     Mousse, Shampoo, Akari, and Ryouga had spent the 
night at the Tendo Dojo. Now, the table held not only 
them, but also the regular inhabitants. Kasumi sat next 
to her husband Tofu, with Soun on the other side of her. 
Ranma sat at the head of the table, Akane next to him, 
and their daughter, Akemi, and son, Kenchiro, next to 
her. The visitors filled in the remaining seats, making
for a crowded table.
     The chatter that morning was quite different from
the discussion the previous night. They discussed the
future, including Akemi's decision to attend Kobe
University, and what some of their classmates might
be doing now. Soun, however, was quiet, and, towards the
end of the meal, drifted off to sleep, chopsticks still
in his mouth. Ranma laughed, and woke him up, then led
him over to the couch, where he could nap in peace in
front of the television.

               ********************

     Elsewhere in Japan, several other individuals
gathered for breakfast, but the topic of their conver-
sation was not as light hearted. Each one was powerful
in his or her own way, and sought to further that
power for their own ends.
     "At this point, I ask if anyone has anything new
to bring before me. Katsuni?" The speaker was old, well
past eighty, dressed in a western cut business suit,
and white hair combed over a bald spot. He was rather
heavy, and had an air of absolute confidence, while his
voice had the strident tones of absolute authority.
     The man indicated bowed, before speaking. "Sir,
we have discovered the whereabouts of that which you
seek."
     Murmurs erupted at this, ending when the old man
raised his left hand. "Well, Katsuni? I am waiting for
you to continue."
     Bowing again, slightly, the younger man continued. 
"It is found in a small valley, in the Bayankala range.
There is a single member of the PRC assigned to a post
there, more as a guide than a guard. However, three
different indigenous tribes stake various claims to the
area."
     One of the other individuals at the table snorted.
"As if primitive savages could ever be a credible threat
to our security forces."
     A woman just to his left sneered at him. "Shiro,
do not be so quick to discount primitives. If the power
of the region is true, perhaps other powers exist in
the area, as well."
     "Bah. Such things are stories, at best. The springs
exist, but work through scientific principles." The man
was thin, and short. He wore thick, wireframed glasses,
and had loose skin that drooped from his neck, both of
which added to the man's resemblance to an overdressed
turkey.
     The old man spoke again, ending the discussion. 
"Shiro, you are here, not for your opinions on the
capabilities of aboriginal natives, but for your 
company's technical resources. Do not dare to think
that you understand, or can understand, everything
that occurs in this world." He raised his hand, and a
faint glow covered it. The old man's face was shaking
from the effort of concentration, and beads of sweat
sprung forth on his forehead. Relaxing, the glow faded,
and he allowed his hand to drop into his lap.
     Noting that Shiro was silent, and slightly dis-
comfited, Kenchiro continued with a full discussion of
the Jokusetsu Amazons, the Musk Dynasty, and the inhab-
itants of Phoenix mountain. They had plenty of 
information about their numbers, and obvious prowess in
the arts of combat, but almost no information about the
unusual powers they may or may not possess, save for
tiny bits of rumor and hearsay. Finally, the old man had 
decided that he had heard enough.
     The man stood. "I am Tokugawa Akahito. I am now,
and forever, Daimyo to you all, in spirit, if not name.
We shall go to Jusenkyo, and, there, I shall achieve
immortality. Now, begone with you, and speak of this
to no one." They stood, as well, and bowed, then filed
out the door of the spacious office. "Kyoko - you shall
stay."
     The woman, quite attractive, and barely thirty, 
waited at the doorway until the others had left, then
walked back into the office. "Yes, Tokugawa-sempai?"
     "Sit." She did as she was told, and he looked at
her. "You are the one who brought the tale of these...
cursed springs. In the seven years we have searched, you
never mentioned any of these natives. Why?"
     "I... I am sorry. I am forbidden to speak of
such things." She dropped her face, eyes boring holes
into the carpet, and cheeks flushed with shame.
     He reached out, and roughly gripped her chin. "Now,
Kyoko. Is the command of whoever forbade to to speak
really that much more fearsome than my own wishes?" His
voice was arctic chill, and he stared into her eyes like
the serpent stares at a hare.
     She looked up, not afraid, but frustrated. "That is
not what I mean, Sempai. It is a Forbidding- a
compulsion, placed in my own mind. I cannot break it,
anymore than I can call fire to my hand, as you do. I
simply cannot speak about...about them."
     He moved his hand, so it no longer wrenched at her
chin, but, rather, cupped it. "Ah, I see. So they _do_,
in fact, have some measure of power as you have 
insinuated." He released her chin, and strode towards
the door to his private office. "Leave. There is
nothing more you can do for me, and therefore no valid
reason for you to remain."
     Grateful, she stood, bowed, and hurried through the
outer door, into the hallway beyond.

               ********************

     "My classes aren't scheduled to begin until two in
the afternoon, so what do you guys want to do until 
then?" Ranma was seated on the rock beside the pond, 
balancing a bokken on one finger. Ukyou had
     "Why not spar some more?" suggested Ryouga.
     "And why doesn't that answer surprise me?" asked
Ukyou. "It seems like the two of you spend most of your
time together fighting."
     "Hey, it's how we show we're still friends," said
the Lost Man. "We beat each other up, but we don't kill
each other. If one of us kills the other, then we aren't
friends anymore."
     Akari just elbowed him in the side. "Now, P-chan,
be nice."
     "So she calls you P-chan, too, huh? Wow, I bet you
never thought you'd get that much mileage out of that
nickname, eh, piggy?"
     "Ah, be quiet, Ranko." The pig snipe didn't get the
reaction Ranma had expected; in fact, Ryouga got him
back, and left him speechless for all of thirty seconds.
     "Yeah, well. Anyway, you guys wanna go check out
good ol' Furinkan? Miss Hinako's principal now, by the
way."
     "Principal? The little girl teacher?" asked an
incredulous Shampoo. "The one who drained ki ?"
     "Yup, that's the one. In fact, she... nah, you can
find out for yourself. Let's go."
     Ryouga agreed. "Yeah, come on," he said, as he 
immediately bounded out of the yard. 
     Ranma leapt out right behind, and caught him.
"Sorry, but, first of all, Furinkan is the other way. 
Second, I was gonna drive us there in the minivan. If
you remember, that's how I took Akemi and Kenchiro this
morning."
     "Um, right. Er, can you lead me to the van?"
Laughing, Ranma put his hand on his friend's shoulder,
and walked around the other side of the building, where
the vehicle was waiting.

     The school was just like the Wrecking Crew
remembered it, but with a better coat of paint on the
walls. Evidently, it didn't have to put up with the kind
of abuse they used to give it. There weren't that many
students walking around in the grounds, but, then again,
it was ten in the morning. Most of them were in class.
     "Look, Ranma, it's still here!" called Akane, from
across the school yard.
     "What is ?" asked a confused Mousse.
     "Well, whaddya know," breathed Ranma. "It's part of
that big hot plate Ucchan and I fought on when she first
came to Nerima. We stuck it in the ground by this one
tree as sort of a landmark, to remember it."
     "Oh, sure, remind me about that little incident,"
muttered Ukyou. "Not that I miss how I acted for a year
and a half after that, either."
     "Anyway, let's go inside. Shampoo, I am about to
show you part of Furinkan you never saw before."
     Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "What?"
     Ranma grinned from ear to ear. "The door."
     Seconds later, the crew walked inside, as Mousse 
helped Ranma out of his crater. "Sorry, Ranma. She
never could take a joke like that."



- Valandar the Red of the Empty Tankard

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