Here is Chapter 2 of our Ranma/Kenshin crossover, "Champion of the Era"
C&C is welcome, lmk if anybody needs a repost of Chapter 1.

BAD Productions.
Blue thunder
kAhm
Dragonmmho


Chapter Two


SIX MONTHS LATER

It was the second day of the third month at 10:05pm, Nerima time. The
moon was full and, for the most part, the district was asleep. The most
unfortunate exception to this statement was a figure familiar to any
attractive woman in Nerima. If you were awake at this time and were
walking outside you might look up and see a sight not possible for the
last half a year.

Many people hoped that six months away from his favorite activity would
have cured the oldest active glomper from his passion. These people
also believed in kitsune, Santa Claus, that Elvis was still alive, and
that Bill Clinton was a faithful husband.

Six months without being able to grope anyone had been hard on the old
man. Stuck lingering in a hospital bed without being able to grope, or
even look at a pretty girl had merely fueled his need to find a
beautiful young woman and feel the soft fullness of her bosom, firmly
rotund curves of her bottom, and the silky smoothness of garments with
which she chose to conceal the treasures of her body.

The only thing that had changed was Happousai's need for vengeance.
What had started as a simple payback had grown into a need to punish,
maim and destroy a certain snot nosed, arrogant little, pig tailed,
gender changing martial artist.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Ranma had just let him heal, but NOOO.
The disrespectful bastard had convinced the doctors that pretty nurses
or visitors would be too much of a strain on his frail, delicate
constitution. Happousai's pleas that pretty nurses in short, tight
uniforms would be the best thing for him were stoically ignored. The
doctors were not willing to take any chances with Happousai's recovery.
They couldn't believe that he was alive, let alone going to recover.
They figured that it should have taken him 50 years to recover from
having every bone in his body broken, bruised, or cracked in some way.
Ranma had hurt him more than anyone ever had in Happi's long life.

"The doctors were idiots," Happi thought to himself. "A true martial
artist can recover from any injury!" Besides, if you were a master at
his level, nothing short of death was going to stop him. He had half a
mind to show the doctors what else he could do now that he had
recovered. The prodding, poking, and needles were bad enough, but on
top of that all he had to take care of him were old bags who looked
like pears and male nurses with tattoos and hairy arms.

Happousai was still having nightmares about that old bag with the
mustache. Nurse Esako had somehow gotten it into her head that this old
man in the triple strength body cast would be looking for a warm body
to take care of him. Happi suspected Ranma of giver her the idea in the
first place, but no. Ranma wasn't bright enough to come up with
something like this. Of all the traps Happousai had had to escape, this
was by far the most cruel and constricting. Even that damned cave had
been better than a potato shaped, hairy lipped spinster looking for her
last chance.

To top it all off, someone had gotten into the hospital every few days
and changed his chart around. There was a full week of enemas, then a
week's worth of rabies shots. Luckily he had managed to stop the full
body hair removal. He never did find out what was substituted for his
IV for that full month, but whatever it was, it was still making him
crave ice cream and pickles. At least his chest was back to normal.

The only comfort Happi had during his recovery was that wonderful,
gentle, Kasumi had come to see him once in a while. For some reason
though, he had never been able to bring himself to glomp her. He never
could really understand it. Happousai had groped nuns when he had to
and he had never felt even a twinge of guilt. Somehow with Kasumi, he
just knew it was wrong. Still, even if he could not molest, he was at
least reminded that there was such a thing as beautiful women.

The fact remained that for the first time since getting out of that
cave Happi was forced to find another way to maintain his energy.
Without the wondrous power of a woman's bosom or a fine pair of
panties, he had to rely on hatred. If Ranma hadn't stopped his playful
afternoon, he wouldn't have suffered as he did. Ranma only added to his
offenses against his master by playing those cruel tricks on him.

The worst part was Ranma had given his entire collection back to
wherever Happousai had taken it from, or if that was impossible, given
it to charity. He had to start all over again.

"I was always too kind and soft on Genma," mused Happousai. "If I had
given Genma the proper discipline, his son wouldn't be such a
delinquent." He had been too gentle with  Genma ,and Genma had been
even easier on Ranma. As master of the Anything Goes School of Martial
Arts, it was Happousai's duty to rein Ranma in and install proper
respect for the head of the school into the idiot.

It had been just over a week since Happousai had been released from the
hospital. In that time he had spent half his waking hours gathering
materials and making plans for his revenge. The other half of the time
Happi had been groping and glomping women while stealing their lacy
darlings. A man had to have his priorities. Vengeance was important,
but so were hooters.

Tonight was, unfortunately, not a night for pretty ladies. Despite the
fact that Happousai was behind several dozen panties in his collection
restocking schedule, his plans had to be completed tonight or put on
hold until next year: The third day of the third month at 12:03 AM.
Happi took a scroll out from his robe and skimmed over it while he
hopped from rooftop to rooftop.

Happousai looked with regret at an especially dainty pair of panties
hanging on a balcony's drying line. How many panties had he been forced
to leave in places where they would never be loved or cherished as they
would were they in his possession?  The world could be so cruel, so
unfair, so...HEARTLESS! He hoped the silky darlings would forgive him
for neglecting them. Happi knew the delicate lace and silk underwear,
lovely things they were, would understand.

Ranma was to blame for this. Ranma was forcing this needless cruelty.
It was another offense that was added to a list longer than the Nerima
phone book. Ranma would pay! How had it come to this? Happi actually
had to leave ladies underwear alone! In all his decades of life, Happi
could not think of anything more tragic.

Everything that the scroll specified for the conjuration was ready. All
that had to be done now was to find a place that would supply the
necessary energies to speed the summoning along. A man of Happosai's
skill and experience picked up a lot of obscure talents in his travels.
One of the more useful ones was manipulating his Ki to make Ley lines
visible to him.

Ley lines were lines of mystical force that encircled the Earth.
Mystics and Holy men often sought out sights right on these lines of
power. People who knew how to harness this power could do incredible
feats. Science said such things were myths. Science also said the
highest a man could jump was about ten feet.

Nerima, with all the exotic, strange and ridiculous martial artists in
its population, had a very high concentration of Ley lines.  Whether
the Ley lines attracted the martial artists, or the martial artists
specifically sought them out was a matter for philosophers and scholars
to debate. It would be a while though. Most of the scholars of martial
arts and Ley lines were hotly arguing about whether Bruce Lee could
have beaten Mohammed Ali.

During the past several months, Happi had planned a horrible vengeance
for Ranma. The first step in this plan required finding a high
concentration of Ley lines. Happousai had found two areas that would
suit his purpose. The first one was highly unavailable to him. The
Nekohanten was Cologne's territory. No doubt the high concentration of
magic was one reason she decided to build her restaurant there. He
didn't think she would agree to help him in any way, and despite all
the trouble Ranma had caused Cologne and Shampoo, Cologne still thought
of Ranma as her son-in-law. She wouldn't be willing to cause him
serious harm.

The second place Happousai had found was much better suited to his
needs. The lines of power met over one of the many buildings on the
estate of the Kunou family. Kunou Tatewaki was an idiot, but Happousai
liked him. Anyone that gullible was fun to have around. Happi still
laughed over Kunou drinking a potion made from the dirt under his
fingernails. Kunou would always be willing to help anyone against
"...that practitioner of the black arts, Saotome."

Unfortunately, Kunou was too stupid to be included in this plan. The
last thing Happi wanted was the famous Kunou screw-ups destroying his
beautiful revenge. Besides, Happousai didn't need anyone to help him
with this. All he had to do was to do was get through the ridiculously
over-engineered traps, barricades, and obstacles that populated the
estate of the richest mentally unbalanced family in Nerima.

As Happousai approached the Kunou estate, he stopped and began going
over the scroll again, just to make sure he had everything he needed.

"Let's see," he mumbled, "Third day, check. Third month, check, Full
Moon, check. Yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Scroll says the spell
should start on the third minute after midnight."

Checking his watch Happi saw that it was 20 minutes before midnight.
Plenty of time for him to get where he needed to be. With a casual hop,
the geriatric martial artist cleared the twenty foot wall that
surrounded the Kunou estate.

Lets take a moment to consider something. There were many arguments
around Furinkan. Some argued Kunou's insanity was his most powerful
trait, while others said Kunou was mostly stupid. Then there was the
group that said he was Nerima's biggest pervert, next to Happousai of
course. No consensus had been reached as to which dementia was Kunou's
strongest.

When you have a young man with that many psychosis, no responsible
adult supervision, an equally demented sister who experimented with
chemicals on herself and anyone around her, and virtually unlimited
wealth to play around with, you get some interesting results.

Maybe the Kunou's thought they had to defend themselves against those
who envied their noble status. Maybe they thought they had to protect
themselves from those who wanted their great wealth. Perhaps they were
just crazy.

Whatever the reason, the Kunou siblings had spent several years adding
their own security measures to the estate. Being Kunou's, these
measures were not simply more cameras, extra guards, patrol dogs, or
hidden alarms.

The Kunou estate had more hidden traps, rooms and weapons than all
three Indiana Jones movies combined.

As soon as Happousai landed inside the estate perimeter, a dozen spears
came at him from concealed devices in the trees in front of him. He
jumped over them.

When he landed, the ground underneath him gave way to a trap door
leading to a pit with tigers. Before the trap had a chance to open 1/4
of the way, Happousai's reflexes took him off the door and into the
trees.

Happousai was later heard to remark that the trees had hidden the nets
very well, then there were the tripwires, flame-throwers, sonic
emitters, gas attacks, first generation holographic decoys...

Half the Kunou fortune went into the 'protection' of the Kunou home
estate...

Any normal man would have been incapacitated, captured, animal food or
dead one minute after entering the grounds. Happousai took his time and
spent five whole minutes avoiding, deactivating and disabling whatever
device he found. It had been a long time since he had a chance to get a
light workout like this. Nice to see six months in a hospital did not
hinder him too much.

Hey, this next trap door looked like it had something interesting.
Happi let the door open beneath him. As he fell, he noticed that this
room had a comfortable floor and large television screens around the
room and chairs to sit in.

Curious, Happousai sat in a chair. Within seconds, the TVs came to life
and the obtuse face of Tatewaki Kunou could be seen, in a ghastly
multitude around the room.

"I salute you whoever you are. You must be a thief of great skill to
have penetrated so far into the Kunou Estates. By now you have realized
how futile your efforts are as the measures taken by I, the Blue
Thunder of Furinkan High, the rising star of the Kendo world, the great
Kunou Tatewaki, have captured you in a trap from which there is no
escape."

"Despite your nefarious intentions, I am merciful as well as just. To
have penetrated this far into the estate shows great skill and this I
can respect. As the greatest Kendo master in the world, I appreciate
skill. Though I will presently have my security people turn you over to
the authorities, I believe you should be rewarded for your efforts. The
police will be summoned in six hours from now. During this time you
will be blessed to hear a selection of poetry composed from the noble
spirit and heart of my grand being. The first is titled `Ode to the Pig
Tailed One.`"

Happi couldn't believe how stupid this was. He knew Kunou to be
gullible, idiotic and ridiculous, but this just overwhelmed the legend
of stupidity. Happi began to look around to find the easiest way out of
this simple pit.

"Oh for all to see,
Is not the pig tailed one lovelier than a tree?"

Happi gagged.

"Tendou Akane,
A tigress in battle,
Worthy of me."

Time dragged on the more the video droned on.

"My next selection is entitled 'The beauty of sharing the vast love of
a Nobleman.'"

For an uncertain time, the image of Tatewaki kept up an endless stream
of hideous verse. Haiku was mangled beyond recognition. Blank verse,
Iambic pentameter, simple rhymes, every form of poetry was transformed
into instruments of terrible destruction.

Happi felt like he was at the scene of a ten car pile up that had
bodies everywhere. The carnage and spectacle were repellent, but the
horror was fascinating to experience. The more he heard, the harder he
found it to move. In fact, it was impossible.

NO! Happousai was the founder and grandmaster of the Anything Goes
School of Martial Arts! He would not be defeated by something like
this. With a supreme effort, he forced his senses to ignore the horror
of the poetry. Damn the clarity of the Dolby Digital Surround sound. It
made you feel like you were inside Kunou's head, the mind numbing
verses penetrating to your very soul. Technology misused like this was
a terrible thing.

Happi climbed up the sheer wall leading to the trap door that he let
get him in the first place. Normally, Happousai would have used a
Happodaikarin to blow a hole in the door, but the ordeal of the last
Haiku had upset him enough that he could not concentrate enough Ki to
form his attack.

After long agonizing minutes of pounding on the door, Happi managed to
break through the barrier to freedom. A particularly grotesque couplet
that described how Kunou was nobly capable of loving the delicate pig
tailed girl and the powerful Tendou Akane, gave Happi the added
incentive he needed. As quickly as he could, the aged master crawled
out to the open air. He scrambled away from the area faster than he had
ever crawled in his life.

So intent was Happi on escaping the Kunou poetry that he failed to
notice the signs of another trap door not 15 meters from the first.
This fall surprised him so much that he did not have time to scream as
he fell.

***

Kunou Tatewaki could never accused of being a person who was aware of
his surroundings. No matter how you explained, demonstrated, or
illustrated what you wanted him to understand, it would take a miracle
of biblical proportions before he would begin to comprehend what you
wanted him to know.

Kunou was capable of noticing that something was happening on his
estate, although it did take him a while to understand this. The spears
in the estate walls were unusual. The agitation of the tigers was
suspicious. At least five of the trapdoors had been activated. By the
time Kunou saw that the flame-throwers were out of fuel, he was willing
to admit that something was amiss.

"Obviously," thought Kunou, "the lackey who maintains the estate
security has been lax in his duties." Since the great and noble Kunou,
the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, had designed the traps and security
measures at the estate, it followed that the estate was impregnable.
Since no thief had been caught, fried, pierced or eaten there must be
no thief.

He would fire the head of security in the morning. If there was one
thing a Kunou could not abide it was dereliction of duty. The head of
security had not been maintaining the estate traps by the proper
maintenance schedule. That was the only possible explanation for all
these traps going off at once when no thief was caught.

To make matters worse, this chaos had interrupted a particularly
blissful dream involving Kunou's pig tailed goddess. He was most eager
to get back to where he was awakened; it had just been getting
interesting...

***

At the Tendou Dojo, Ranma Saotome had been murmuring in his sleep.
Anyone who had cared to listen to him would have heard thin whimpers
intermixed with bold statements along the lines of "I'm a *man*,
dammit!" and "Let go of me, pervert!" Rather odd things to be muttering
about in your dreams, for anyone save Saotome Ranma.

This disquiet dreaming continued for a scant few minutes, with Ranma
growing more and more agitated, before mercifully ending with him
sitting bolt upright in his futon, screaming his head off.

Genma was only concerned with the fact that his son was the reason for
his loss of sleep. Practicing his own special brand of parental
nurturing, he threw Ranma through the wall of their room and into the
pond.

"If you're going to scream in your sleep like a girl, you might as well
be a girl! What did I ever do to deserve such an inconsiderate son?"

At least that is what Genma would have written on a sign if he hadn't
been too tired to write one at the moment. What he actually said was a
little more like "Growf...growlgrowl! Growlf..." as the 'caring parent'
happened to be a Panda at the time.

Ranma got herself out of the pond and sat down near the edge of the
water. She did not want to admit it, but she had been getting this
nightmare a lot recently. It was a big reason he had trouble sleeping
at night sometimes. There was some kind of octopus with black hair
spouting poetry. It kept grabbing at him, caressing his girl body.....
Ranma was shaking and breaking into a cold sweat at the memory of it.

He didn't know why he was having this dream, but he was considering
going to the old ghoul for help. He couldn't help thinking that this
was no ordinary nightmare. Ranma sighed in resignation. He was sure
tomorrow would be another chalk filled day.

There had to be away to stop that stupid chalk brush. Watanabe had
promised him that if he could stop it from hitting him 3 days in a row
that Watanabe would stop using the stupid thing.

No one had pointed out to Ranma that History class was never scheduled
three days in a row. Hiroshi or Daisuke would have told him, but they
had late times in Nabiki's 'How long before Ranma gets a clue in
History' pool.

Ranma began contemplating new strategies to stop the chalk brush since
he had no intention of getting back into that nightmare again.

***

This room was different from the last one.  It was covered in flowers
and the air had a sickeningly sweet perfume that permeated everything
within. This place was easily as large as the previous one, but there
was only one large television screen. Instead of chairs, the set was in
front of a large bed.

The trap door dropped Happi right on the bed. As he allowed the bed to
break his fall, the scent of the flowers overpowered him. Happousai
found himself relaxing, not wanting to move.

The TV lit up. This time the images shown were of a beautiful leotard
clad girl executing a series of complex gymnastic maneuvers with grace
and precision. The center television suddenly changed to show that girl
in a full-face shot. "To the vile miscreant who has traveled so far
into the Kunou estate only to be captured by the designs of the rising
young star of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastic world, Kunou 'the
Black Rose' Kodachi.' OHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"

"Since no doubt you came to the estate to marvel at me, I have to say
that I admire your bravery. However, you are not worthy to be in my
presence. Even thinking that you would be worthy to worship me from
afar is an unconscionable show of arrogance. You must be punished and
humbled for your temerity. Be prepared, you plebeian miscreant, for the
most abominable punishment conceived in the history of human
existence."

"Ha", thought Happousai. After what he just went through, there was
nothing that this girl could come up with that could even begin to
equal the repugnance of...


"Pigtails, pigtails
So many to see,
Yet there be
Only one that is for me"

Happi's whole body began to shake, his mind going blank. It couldn't
be. It just couldn't be...

Suddenly, the paneling on the walls retracted, revealing rows and rows
of TVs with the same image: Kunou Tatewaki. The perfume in the trap
increased tenfold. More black roses came down from above to surround
the aged pervert. The pollen from the blossoms paralyzed Happi. The bed
he lay in extended shackles around his torso and arms, pinning him.

There were bindings for his feet as well, but Happi's legs were too
short to be caught by them.

"Tendou Akane is an angel,
Her desires there for all to see,
and though she doth protest too much,
All know her heart be for Tatewaki."

Speakers had come out of the bed and ceiling to surround the old man's
head. Kunou was now coming at him from over 50 different televisions.
The preening voice was vibrating from over 10 different sets of DTS and
THX certified speakers. The perfect acoustics of the pit echoed the
cultured droning a hundredfold. The paralyzing drugs of the flowers
left Happousai with no ability to move, and the poetry was draining him
of the will to live.

Tears were in Happi's eyes and his ears were starting to bleed. He saw
no way out. His last hours would be spent in a pit, killed by bad
poetry. They would find his frail, withered body trapped by this chair.
Happousai, killed by idiots...

...but if he died, there would be all those panties left to fend for
themselves. There were boobs that would never know what it was like to
be fondled by a man who truly appreciated them. Bras ignored... Ranma
would never be punished.

"NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Once again Happi ignored the dreadful verses that were born from the
mind of Kunou. He needed to attain a Zen like state, make his body
reach a level of consciousness beyond the boundaries the drugged roses
and vile rhymes were forcing on him... whatever that means.

Sweat pouring in reams from his straining body, Happousai torturously
brought many decades of lecherous thought crashing down upon his fading
senses. Dredging up memories from his distant past, he began to
envision all the beauties he had groped in his long career.

Happi could feel his strength returning. It was arduous work, but
somehow Happi found the strength of will to imagine Cindy Crawford
naked, Claudia Schiffer dressed in a bra and panty combo of his
choosing, and Ranma-chan begging to serve his EVERY whim.

The Ki flared about Happi now, illuminating the room with it's
intensity. He concentrated on an image of a subservient Ranma-chan,
dressing to please him, touching him in ways that would pleasure him,
allowing Happi to reach a state of Nirvana previously believed
unattainable, even to his lecherously old mind.

Happi's Ki changed from a bright yellow to a fiery red. The aura
expanded to a brilliant blaze that engulfed the entire room. All the
drugged flowers were destroyed in the display. Every piece of
electronic equipment found itself overloaded with power and was burnt
out in seconds.

The old man allowed himself to relax for a moment, his shackles just
slag at his feet. A few minutes rest were all he could allow himself.
There was a revenge that had to be acted on.

This Kunou girl was obviously as demented as her brother, but at least
she was beautiful and female, so he could forgive her, but the brother
would still feel his vengeance one day.  Anyone who could inflict such
repulsive verse deserved a fate almost as horrible as Ranma. With a
much easier time of it, Happi blasted his way out of this trapdoor,
casually leaped up and went on his way.

Eventually, Happousai found a building in an isolated part of the
estate that suited his purposes perfectly. The building looked to be
some kind of guest or servant's quarters and it was far away from the
main house. Checking the Ley lines, he saw this place was right on an
intersection, so it would be very easy to tap the power he needed.

After making sure there was no one in the building and that there were
no security cameras around, Happousai began his preparations. He
emptied out his sack onto the floor. Reading over the scroll again, he
brought out a container containing a white powder. The spell called for
a specific type of chalk mixed with ground human bone, but he figured
talcum powder would do just as well. It's not like the demon would know
the difference.

Using the talcum, he drew his pentagram, placing a candle at each
corner of the design. The scroll said to use the sacred wax made by
some animal from an obscure region in China whose name he could not
even pronounce. Happousai decided to just grab something from the local
aromatherapy shop. A candle is a candle, right?

He did manage to find a few sticks of the special incense the spell
required. He was also careful to draw the wards he would need to
control the demon he summoned up. After he completed setting up the
controls and apparatus for summoning he waited until it was almost time
to begin and then lit all the candles.

***

HELL

For the past several weeks the ruler of Hell had been sullen and
uncommunicative.

Not that Shishio had been the life of the party before, but the way he
was acting now made his previous behavior seem happy-go-lucky in
comparison.

Usui's words had disturbed him. Shishio never had tested himself
against a strong opponent in Hell. Enma had been ridiculously easy to
usurp. Usui's attempt at a coup had been laughable. All other entities
in the underworld bowed to him without question. Shishio was the
strongest in Hell.

Was he only the strongest in Hell?

When he was alive, Shishio knew that his plans would lead to a
confrontation with the one man he considered a challenge, the Hitokiri
Battousai. When Shishio had succeeded Kenshin as Hitokiri, everyone
always compared Shishio's abilities to his predecessor. Shishio always
ached to see who was the strongest Hitokiri.

The Battousai had beaten him. No matter how he had manipulated the
situation, stacked the odds against him or weakened him, the
effeminate, weak looking man with the toy sword had come back for more
until he had won.

The weak feed the strong. Shishio had not been strong enough to defeat
the champion of Meiji. When his soul had entered Hell, Shishio knew he
could win here. He would rule here, and only here.

There were no challenges for Shishio here. This place drew the weak,
the easily corrupted. There were few souls who had any strength to them
and those that did have it were never a match for the personality of
Shishio.

Usui had been right. How long had it been since there had been a
possibility of struggle? This question had dominated Shishio's thoughts
for weeks, months? Time had little meaning here. A day in one part of
Hell could be years in another. How long had he been pondering this as
he sat alone in his throne room?

Shishio looked around the throne room again. This room could be molded
as if it were made of clay. It responded and formed itself to the will
of Shishio. Before he had heard Usui's taunts Shishio had made this
room more luxurious and opulent than the grandest palace imagined by
man. Now it was barren and looked carved from stone. A mist of sulfur
hung in the air and the walls were bare and uneven. The floor was a bed
of white hot coals.

"Shishio-sama?"

Shishio had not been aware that anyone had disturbed his solitude.
Turning his head he saw the beautiful image of Yumi.

"I said that I wanted to be left alone."

"I have been worried about you. Everyone has been worried about you."
Yumi waited for a response and finding none, continued speaking and
moved next to him.

"You have not been active in some time. If Houji was not able to..."

"Shut the fuck up."

"But Shishio-sama, you have nothing to prove. You are known and feared
throughout all of Hell. Usui was baiting you. Do not listen to his
taunts. You are the one who overthrew Enma. You are the one who...."

In a single graceful movement, Shishio got up and turned towards Yumi.
"I said I don't care. Leave now!" Shishio than did something he had
never done before, he struck Yumi with the back of his had and sent her
flying into the wall.

If she had been mortal, that blow would have killed her. As it was,
Yumi's face had been shattered, her neck broken. She lay on the floor
and moaned in agony. As intense as the pain was the shock of Shishio's
action was greater. He had never struck her before. He had never hit
her in anger or impatience.

Two guards rushed in when they heard the noise, followed by a frantic
Houji. Shishio stared at them as they took in the room. No one was
willing to speak until their Lord had given them permission.

"You are very lucky that I do not condemn all of you to Usui's fate."
Shishio pointed to Houji. "I told you I was not to be disturbed by
anyone."

"Forgive me Shishio-sama, but you have not been behaving..."

"However I am behaving you are to obey me without question or doubt.
Anything less will not be tolerated" With those quiet words the entire
room changed form, becoming a dungeon filled with tortures and pains
too numerous to list, and far too terrible to contemplate.

Houji paled and nodded his assent.

"Take her away. Let her be healed. Leave my presence until I say
otherwise."

The two guards gently picked up the prone form of Yumi and left with
Houji.

When he was alone again, Shishio again began to consider what he wanted
to do.

"Usui could be right. The world of man would have produced a new
champion by now. How do I see? How do I test this warrior?"

Shishio did have one direct link with the mortal realm. He closed his
eyes, and let his mind drift. All incantations desiring to use the dark
powers were heard by him. All prayers of the damned were Shishio's to
reject or welcome at his own whim. By listening to the entreaties of
those who desired power from his realm, perhaps he could find the
champion he sought.

People who called on Shishio for power were generally weak. If they had
the strength to fight on their own, they would not need the power of
Hell. There were those who wished for the power to smite their enemies.
There were those who wished revenge for slights imagined and real.
There were those touched by madness who saw this power as being part of
their chosen mission or duty. There were even some who believed they
could use the powers of darkness to do good. Those were always the
easiest imbeciles to pervert and seduce.

These souls were timid. Not one request that indicated an opponent of
skill and power. Was there no... Wait. Through all the entreaties and
posturing there was one demand that stood out.

This summoning was clumsy, from an impetuous amateur, but there was
power there. Shishio had never felt this kind of power from a mortal.
It was an old power, as man measures time. This soul had seen decades,
possibly centuries of experience. There was skill in its actions, but
not mystical. Above all, this beings spirit seemed to be almost as
powerful as a mid level demon.

This being was dominated by anger, rage... No,  not anger, LUST!
Shishio was shocked to sense such a powerful desire and appetite. Not
once in all his existence had he felt such a thorough and all consuming
desire. Such petty and insignificant drives housing incredible
spiritual power, it was too much of a contradiction not to investigate.

What did this one want? Revenge? It wanted to make an enemy pay for
getting in it's way? Anyone who could defeat this summoner must be even
more powerful. This could be the Champion Shishio had to defeat. At the
very least, it seemed a good place to start his search.

With a casual thought, Shishio modified the spell being cast. Instead
of summoning a minor devil, Shishio would use this conjuring to allow
himself into the world of man for the first time in over a century.

An excitement began to build in Shishio. What kind of world did man
live in now? What kind of life existed? Would the Battousai look down
upon this world and admit that he was wrong to defend it? Using a
portion of his ability to create a masking spell that hid his true
nature, Shishio allowed the spell to take hold of him.

It would be many weeks, as man measures time, before anyone had the
courage to enter the throne room.

As soon as Shishio was gone, a tortured soul in the lowest depths of
existence laughed with savage joy even as his newly regenerated eyes
were plucked out of his head.

***

Happi was not sure what to make of this spell. It should have summoned
an oni or demon. It should have taken no time at all.

He perspired as he chanted, his old, thin voice almost cracking as the
intensity of the words peaked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
The storm that had begun to gather at around ten minutes after he had
started had steadily intensified. Lightning flashed infrequently, a
steady rain beating upon the roof of his shelter.

The smoke from the candles seemed to gather in the center of the
pattern. It hovered there unmoving, gathering itself and gaining form.
The candles light pulsed in an unusual rhythm and illuminated the room
with odd shapes and shadows being shown in the smoke.

The sounds of thunder increased in volume and frequency as the
lightning became brighter and more powerful. The wind outside doubled
and redoubled, to nearly hurricane intensity, yet strangely the Kunou
estate suffered no ill effects.

Rain that should have taken months to accumulate fell in minutes. Power
lines came down and phone cables were severed. No scientist could have
predicted this disaster. No man of logic could explain how this
freakishly destructive weather occurred.

Happi was barely aware of what was happening outside as he broke of the
chant, drained. Noting all the destruction that Nerima was suffering
through a window that showed a view of the town, he could say only one
thing: "WHERE THE HELL IS MY DEMON?!"


***

In another part of Nerima an old woman awoke from a restless slumber
chilled and afraid. Beneath her aged, frail appearance was the heart of
a warrior born. She had lived over three hundred years on this planet
and planned many more decades to come.

Cologne was an Elder of the Joketsuzoku Amazons.  She was a master of
more fighting styles than most people knew existed. She had seen much
in her long years of life, so she knew when something was being done
that disturbed the natural order.

Never in all her centuries of life, had Cologne seen a storm such as
this one. This couldn't be a natural occurrence. There was no way she
would have missed the coming of this. The power of this tempest alone
was enough to give her pause, yet she would bet her honor that there
was something else even more horrible signified by the weather.

"Great grandmother, wake up! Restaurant is flooding!" said a voice at
Cologne's bedroom door. The door opened and Cologne's great great
granddaughter entered. There was a worried expression on the young
girl's face as she held up the candle she was carrying so that she
could better make out the figure of her ancestor.

"I am awake child. Only the dead or fools could sleep through this
disaster. Speaking of which, is Mousse awake yet?"

"Shampoo make Mousse board up windows. Flashlight no work, radio not
work too. Is strange, yes?"

"Very strange. I made sure there were fresh batteries in the emergency
equipment last week. I fear something is happening, Shampoo. I just
wish I knew what."

"What great grandmother mean?"

Cologne shook her head gently.

Suddenly a duck came flying into the room. "QUACK QUACK QUACK!! QUACK
QUACK!"

Before the wet and frantic duck could say anymore, Shampoo slapped him
into a wall. "Stupid Mousse, you be quiet while grandmother and I
talking."

Mousse-duck just lay there dazed and waiting for the room to start
spinning.

"Never mind child. I believe I can guess what the idiot is babbling
about. You had better get him some hot water. Get some for yourself too
and put it in a thermos. With a storm like this the two of you had
better be prepared to change back if the rain hits you."

"Okay." Shampoo reached over and grabbed Mousse-duck. "Come on stupid
blind boy."

As Shampoo left, Cologne felt a shiver throughout her entire body. She
wasn't cold, she was actually afraid. It had been many decades since
Cologne had felt the touch of such fear and she hated it as much now as
she did the last time she felt it.

***

The smoke within the pentagram began to solidify, gathering itself
vaguely into the shape of a tall man. The candles erupted into a
multicolored display as the smoke took form; the lines of the pentagram
glowed an electric blue. Thunder roared outside louder than ever,
shattering windows in its aftermath.

Lightning continued to strike Nerima as if the town was a giant
lightning rod. In fact, bolts formed a circle around the Kunou estate,
though none would strike within it.

Finally, the candles gave one last eruption that consumed them. The
flames burned brightly as a star, and when his eyesight cleared Happi
saw what he had brought forth.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I WANTED A DEMON, NOT KING TUT!"

***

Shishio could not believe what he was sensing. The power emanating from
his summoner was incredible. This man, it had to be a man, had somehow
learned to focus it's desires and lecherous nature into power. This
things strength of will was greater than most of Shishio's demons.

Never had Shishio believed it possible for such energy to exist in such
a petty being. This thing cared nothing for power, beyond power's
ability to gain access to the things that fed it's lust for nubile
young women. There was little ambition here beyond groping of females,
and yet these actions fed this one's spirit, gave it power, and
revitalized it.

Some of the things this creature wished to do to women would make
excellent tortures for female souls. Shishio had to admit that this
thing was imaginative within its limitations.

This was the man Shishio sensed from the depths of Hell. This was the
power that brought forth his curiosity. This was the being the Ruler of
Hell had thought would lead him to this era's champion. This Happousai,
this...

...wrinkled prune that looked like it's skin had been stretched over
six miles, and than put back over a dwarfs body. Shishio was used to
ugliness. Hell tended to make the souls form reflect it's nature,
meaning that ugliness was the norm for most. Shishio had seen faces
that could curdle water. He had created bodies so grotesque that
blindness was considered a blessing.

For some reason the looks of Happosai evoked such strong distaste in
Shishio that he could barely stand to look at his conjurer. He just
looked so..,  all Shishio could say is that this thing made every
member of the Jupon Gatana look normal in comparison.

The contradictions in this creature were enormous. It possessed almost
inhuman power, great martial skill and intelligence. Yet it's inability
to see nothing beyond it's petty appetites made it less than nothing to
him. It had no vision of the future. Shishio did need this thing.
Howerver, this being did know this world, and could give Shishio the
information he needed about this era's champion and how Japan had
survived without acknowledging the truth that Shishio embraced.

Unfortunately, Shishio would have to play a role for now. To take over
a summoning spell meant that he could modify it so that the caster
would not have dominion over him in the same way he would a lesser
demon. Unfortunately, Shishio still had to do some service for the
caster.

Shishio looked over the shriveled figure of Happousai again, and
rumbled out five words: "What is it you want?"

***

Happousai could not believe his luck. What could have gone wrong with
his casting? Okay maybe he took a few shortcuts, but he should still
have gotten a demon.

"So what are you, some kind of Egyptian reject?"

A cold smile, full of contempt and malice, formed on the face of the
being within the circle. "I am here to fulfill your request? What is it
you want?"

"Do your bandages come off? Do you..."

Shishio was not sure why, but he restrained himself from evaporating
any moisture in the miniature trolls body. Taking a breath to calm
himself, Shishio spoke. "You must tell me what you want. If you do not
tell me anything I will rip out your throat, pull out your tongue and
roast you over an open fire. It would be much better for you to just
tell me why I am here."

For a moment Happousai paled, than his finger idly traced the pattern
of the ward he held in his hand. Knowing that the ward was there gave
Happi a foolish bravery. "Don't you threaten me bandage boy. I'm your
master! You do what I say! So is there any way I could trade you in for
a pretty lady demon?"

"If you kill yourself I will guarantee that your escort to Hell will be
the most sensual, seductive, voluptuous beauty you can imagine. You
might even enjoy the trip when she takes you before the ruler of Hell."

Happi thought about this for several minutes.  A beautiful Lady demon
to be his escort to...ETERNAL DAMNATION? "All right all right, I was
just asking. Don't go wrapping your bandages in a knot."

Shishio could not believe this. How could a person like this even be
able to summon a being from Hell? The chalk was wrong, the candles were
wrong. The incantations had been mangled to the point where they were
nearly unrecognizable.

Shishio had to modify the casting considerably with his own power to
get it to work properly, and to enable himself to step in. He would
find out what this thing wanted. Eventually Shishio would take this
thing to Hell with him when he returned. It could have little power
over him with the way it cast its spell.

Shishio ran his thoughts across the fine web of magic in the room.
Well, he couldn't kill the shriveled up little dwarf, but that was
about it.

This 'Happousai' was such a ridiculous creature Shishio almost smiled.
He had enough power that Shishio might have been tempted to include him
in the Jupon Gatana all those decades ago. The thought of this thing
interacting with Houji, Anji, Soujiro, and Usui was very amusing. What
he would have done to Yumi was something to contemplate. Shishio had
killed Yumi, but would he have been willing to submit his lover to this
embodiment of perversion? "For what task did you summon me for,
'master'?"

With a sigh of one long suffering, Happousai spoke. "I brought you here
to punish a disrespectful, smartass who needs to be taught to respect
his betters. I brought you here to destroy, break, and humiliate one
Saotome Ranma."

Hearing the name of the man he was brought to destroy, Shishio searched
the mind of Happousai to see what he was facing. The image of a child,
a boy of no more than sixteen or seventeen was in Happousai's memories.
The boy's height was about average for his age. His form was muscular,
but not bulky. It showed the form of one who depended on speed and
agility. There was confidence, arrogance in the eyes of this child. Was
there also ability to back up this bravado?

Happousai's memories of this one were impressive. This Saotome had
mastered some powerful techniques for one so young. He had faced foes
far more powerful than himself and through a combination of dumb luck,
skill, and perseverance had won every important battle he needed to.

This boy could not be the champion of the era though. He refused to use
weapons. This dependence on hand to hand combat was childish. Perhaps
the boy could have been like Anji, a powerful warrior who needed no
weapons, but no. This boy refused to kill. He was too weak to perform
the act that showed true power. Even Anji had acknowledged that killing
was necessary.

Is this what a champion has come to? A fighter not willing to kill,
caring for his enemies enough to put himself in danger? This was
pathetic. It would have been comical if it were not so ridiculous. In
all his years of life and afterlife, Shishio could not remember a time
when he had seen such a display

This idiot wasted effort on preserving his foes, rarely would his
opponents have even a broken bone. It made no sense. What could this
boy have done to warrant such hatred from Hapo...

"You brought me here because this boy stopped you from stealing girls
underwear?" said an incredulous Shishio.

"HE TOOK AWAY MY SILKY DARLINGS! He took them away from the one person
on the planet who could appreciate them for the things of beauty they
are." Happi looked over at the demon and saw this thing could not
comprehend the magnitude of Ranma's crime. Well it is impossible to
explain it to someone who has no feelings for the finer things in life.
No doubt life in Hell made this mummy blind to art.

"It's not just that. He dared to strike out at me, his master. He
should know better than to take away an old man's few remaining
pleasures," said a suddenly teary eyed Happousai. "I have spent the
last several months trying to show the boy the benefit of my wisdom."

Shishio saw a scene of Happousai offering a bra to Ranma, than Ranma
sending Happousai into orbit.

"I have tried to help him with his problems."

Shishio saw a scene of Happi trying to put a bra on a short red headed
girl dressed like Ranma, who promptly sends Happousai into orbit. "What
does this have to do with Ranma?" thought Shishio.

"I have tried to show him how powerful my techniques are."

Before Shishio's eyes appeared a multitude of chaotic memories.
Happousai throwing a Happodaikarin at Ranma, Happousai jumping into the
ample chest of the red haired girl, Happousai using Ranma as a decoy so
that he can escape a crowd of angry girls.

This was what the world of man had come to? The mightiest fighting
techniques used to steal women's underwear? Fighting for the sake of
small games? This was what man had come to?

"AND THAT UNGRATEFUL BRAT REPAYS ME BY ALMOST KILLING ME AND STEALING
MY COLLECTION WHEN I'M RECOVERING!"

With this rant, Shishio experienced the last battle between Happousai
and this Ranma character. Shishio spent a moment analyzing the power of
the techniques used. The ruler of Hell actually smiled when he saw the
destruction of Ranma's final maneuver on the ancient dwarf. This was
the thing he had been hoping to see, a technique of power that would
devastate a foe! There could be hope for this modern world yet.

When the final scene faded from Shishio's view, he looked down on
Happousai. Shishio was glad the bandages he still affected hid his
mirth from this creature. It had been decades since Shishio had been so
amused.

"You want me to come to this mortal plane, to beat a boy who stopped
you from completing a panty raid. You want me to do this because you
are afraid to do it yourself and..."

Happousai threw his pipe at the bandaged figure before it could
complete the sentence. "Watch your mouth Mummy man! I the master of
both you and that snot nosed punk. I'm not afraid of that boy. I just
figure that such a grave breach of conduct deserves the most severe
punishment possible."

Walking around his pentagram, the old lech began muttering. "Not
afraid, just think Ranma has to learn a lesson about abusing his
betters. What do you care? I summoned you, your here, now DO WHAT I
TELL YOU! This circle, these words [brings out the scroll], and those
candles mean you do what I say."

It was almost enough to make Shishio laugh. Whatever effect those props
had on the spell, they did not give this creature the control it
thought it had. Shishio hadn't thought it possible that anyone who was
attempting to summon a high level demon would make so many errors.

"I am Master Happousai to you. If that gets to be too complicated for
you, just call me Master. By the way, what do I call you? I could stick
with Mummy boy..."

With a thin smile, Shishio stated in a clear voice "Call me 'Makoto.'"

It figures, thought Happousai, that I would get a demon that looks like
a mummy and has a girly name. "That's a stupid name for you but I don't
care what you call yourself. I want you to go out and teach that punk
Ranma a lesson. Don't kill him or permanently hurt him, but make sure
it is something he will never forget."

"I will need to observe this 'Ranma' person, to see what his strengths
and weaknesses are before I carry out your wishes. I must be sure I do
not accidentally kill him."

"Just don't take too long. I want him to learn respect."

"He will learn. That I can promise you."

Suddenly, there was a great crash of thunder and bolts of lightning
struck all around the building. The brightness of the flashes blinded
Happousai. When his vision cleared, his demon was gone.

"I better hear from you soon 'Makoto' You won't like it if I get
angry."

The storm that had been raging moments before had given way to an odd
calm. For some reason, Happousai did not feel like clearing his mind
with a post midnight panty raid. Using a few tricks he had learned over
the decades, Happi made sure no one but him could enter this building
right now, and than headed back to the Tendou Dojo.


***


Shishio dressed himself in an overcoat and hat. From what he could
glean from Happousai's mind this would be an adequate disguise. The
spectacle of a nearly six foot tall mummy in a trenchcoat and hat
thinking he blended in is difficult to put into words.

Shishio had little doubt that he could overcome this 'Ranma' easily
when the time came. This was the chance he had been waiting, eager for.
The ruler of Hell could test this modern world to see how Japan had
evolved without his vision of strength.

"Are you watching me right now Battousai? How do you think I will judge
this world you helped create? Who will rise against me if I find this
world not to my liking?"

Picking up a stick he had found, Shishio tossed it into the air and
watched it fall to the ground. The pointed end faced east.

"As good a direction as any to start."

The ruler of Hell went off to see Japan.







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