Thanks to Steven Pirrone & Stormy for prereading. 

=====----=====-----====----====
THREE
=====----=====-----====----====

"Giant Mocha Freeze!"  Called the way-too-perky barista from behind the
counter at Le Cafe Doutor.  Nabiki shuffled up listlessly, rubbing
remnants of sleep from her eyes with one hand as she picked up her order
with the other.  Sipping on her iced drink, she felt the caffiene,
glorious caffiene, settle into her sluggish bloodstream, and she
returned to her table to peruse the invitation.

Some people, like Kasumi, were morning people, awake and energetic from
the moment they rose at the crack of dawn.

Some were simply early risers out of habit or necessity.  Akane usually
rose at about 6:30 for her morning jog.

Nabiki Tendo was not either one of them.  She sighed, glancing up at the
clock that pronounced 5:35 in large digital letters on the wall.  5:35
was an ungodly hour for a girl who preferred enjoying the comforts of
bed until the absolute last possible minute.  Vampires and other
nocturnal creatures knew a good thing when they had it.

But here she was, sitting in a coffee shop at 5:35 -- no, now it was
5:36 in the morning, propping her eyelids open with coffee stirrers and
trying to map out a battle strategy.

She'd gone through the stack of letters and bills on the kitchen counter
last night after returning from the Nekohanten and found a receipt from
one from the local printers.  Sneaking into her father's room revealed
the remainder of the invitations that had yet to be delivered,
confirming her suspicions, though she really _didn't_ want to know why
he was sleeping with his arms around a cask of sake.

According to what was written, Ranma and Akane's wedding was set for
tomorrow, and unless  something was done about it, it might actually go
off without a hitch.

5:47 read the clock on the wall of Kinko's.

Nabiki quickly filled in the details on the form for express
reproduction service, pausing only when she reached the line asking for
the number of copies wanted.  Tapping the pen against her lip, she
smiled and scrawled in three digits.

"That should do it," she murmured, taking the form and invitation to the
front desk.  She handed the clerk the invitation, with her last-minute
addendum written at the bottom that read 'ALL GIFTS ARE NON-RETURNABLE,'
underlined twice.

One hour later, the girl strolled out of the copy center, three hundred
sealed invitations bulging in her backpack.  Pulling one envelope from
the stack, she tapped the edge of the sealed letter against her cheek,
then hopped on her bicycle and took off.

=====----=====-----[ b.litzkrieg ]-----=====----=====

Round and round, the ladle went, stirring out the lumps until everything
was a smooth, silky consistency.  Round and round in an endless loop,
the okonomiyaki chef stirred her batter, never satisfied until the the
mixture was perfect.  It was, after all, Ukyo Kuonji's meticulous
attention to detail and the fine cuisine that brought customers back to
Ucchans day after day after day.

Not to mention the really cute chef that served them as well.

Okay, maybe the waitress too, she chuckled.

Konatsu had been painfully thin when they had first met, waiflike and
three-quarters starved.  Destitute, penniless and friendless, with zero
knowledge of the value of money, the boy had shown so much gratitude to
simply be fed and taken care of.

It was only recently, with regular meals, that the kunoichi finally
began to tilt towards the right side of 'normal.'  Normal girl, that
was.  Even after he filled out and put on a bit of healthy weight, he
still looked like a fine-figured, if rather flat chested, woman -- those
long, willowly limbs, thin, curved waist, and narrow hips brought even
the okonomiyaki chef to a certain envy.  The most appalling part was
that he also had better legs than she did.  And did he have to be so
darned cute too?

But realistically, Ukyo had little to complain about.  Konatsu never
protested any of the work that needed to be done, in fact he always did
more than expected, forever eager to find a way to do something extra
for his 'Ukyo-sama' as he called her, with that bright, ebullient smile
and some silly song on his lips.

It just because of that and his cheerful easygoing way that it was easy
to forget her effeminate, passive friend was a highly trained assassin.
  And not just any assassin.  A "genius kunoichi" as Happosai described,
and she had to grudgingly admit at least some of that was true.  If
Ranma was the master of adaptive combat, Konatsu was one of adaptive
weaponry.  Who knew her kitchen held so many combustible components?

He seemed so overjoyed to be able to teach her, and frankly she was
shocked at the depth of knowledge the ninja held about explosive
chemical compounds.  It was almost unnerving to hear him rattle off
happily about catalysts, flashpoints, propellants and the uses of
primary charges.

And yet when she'd asked him where he learned so much about demolitions,
the only thing she'd gotten out of him was a pleasant, "My sisters
didn't always look like they do now."

It did however, explain to an extent why she'd caught him several times
unnecessarily burning garbage outside the restaurant, seen him standing
there before the pyre, watching the flickering flames with disturbing
fascination.

The opening door brought Ukyo out of her musings, and the okonomiyaki
chef glanced up.  "What do you want?"  She bluntly queried the figure
who stepped in through the door.

"This is a restaurant isn't it?"  Nabiki smiled pleasantly, dropping her
lumpy backpack to the floor in front of her.  "I felt a hankering for
some pork okonomiyaki, that's all."

She continued to gauge the middle Tendo girl suspiciously, but
nevertheless poured the batter onto the grill.

"You're up a little early."

The short-haired girl shrugged.  "Had some errands to run."

As Ukyo dropped the plate to the counter, Nabiki took out an envelope,
placed it flat on the tabletop, and slid it towards her.

The cook paused, hand hovering over the envelope with the cute little
heart sticker on the back.  With a flick of her fingernail, she gingerly
opened the flap and lifted out its contents.

After a long moment of perusing the invitation, she finally said, "This
is a joke, isn't it?"  The laugh that emerged was a brittle warble.
"Ranchan would never--"

"--Would never send me here to deliver this invitation?"  Drawing out
her wallet, Nabiki counted exact change, and left it on the counter.
"Unfortunately, yours isn't the only one I have to deliver today.  Guess
he never mentioned it to you, huh?"

Truth was, Ranchan hadn't come by once since the group returned from
China, and the okonomiyaki chef was on the verge of delivering a slew of
her specialties to the Tendo household just to find out exactly what was
going on.

"He couldn't even be bothered to give you it himself.  Why, it's almost
as if he's trying to hide something."  She pulled her unofficial guest
roster, making show out out perusing the score of names before pursing
her lips thoughtfully.  "Oh dear."

"Huh?"  Ukyo blinked.

The middle Tendo sister scratched her head as if embarrassed.  "I
thought your name was on here for some reason.  I mean you are his best
friend, right?  You'd think that he'd want you to share in his day of
joy.  Hello?"

She waved a hand in front of the okonomiyaki chef, who appeared to have
zoned out.  Nabiki stood, hefted the backpack to her shoulders, and
slipped out of the restaurant.

Staring blankly ahead, the Ukyo continued to stir the batter.

That jerk!  That, that creep!  Planning to sneak off and marry that
not-even-as-cute girl and trying to HIDE IT from her.  Using and then
casting her off like some dirty apron.  Noooooo, we don't need Ucchan
anymore, do we?

It was as if she were six again, chasing after the yatai, shouting
'Ranchan! Ranchan!  You said you were going to take me with you!'
Stumbling, falling, watching the cart rattle off through blurry eyes,
seeing her future, her life fade into the distance with a wave.  The
humiliation she'd suffered, the cruel gossip and whisperings, the
fulminating anger, all came back with a vengeance.  Not once, but twice,
he done this to her!

Round and round, the ladle went, stirring out the lumps, pounding out
her emotions, blending her angst until it was a smooth, even
consistency.

Oh he would pay, yes he would.

The hand on the mixer paused.

But wasn't it Genma's fault that she'd been left behind?  Ranchan hadn't
known.  He'd  cried at having to leave her behind, ignorant of the
machinations that his bastard of a father had wreaked upon both their
lives.  No, Ranchan wouldn't do this to her.  It had to be a trick.
Yes, that was it.  That had to be it.  It had to be the lousy panda
again.  Him or--

Her.

Reaching under the shelf, she absently brought out a box and carefully
flipped the top open.  What was the combination Konatsu had said?  Stump
remover, soot and sulfur?  Opening the plastic bag inside, she poured
the remander of the Nutonex into the okonomiyaki batter and began
stirring again.

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"My great-granddaughter is still out at the market, but I'll see that
she gets it."  The old crone tucked the invitation into the folds of her
robe.  "But I am slightly curious as to your motivation in all of this."

"The more the merrier, the bigger the presents are," Nabiki rejoindered
blandly.  "I mean, what else could possibly go wrong?  Maybe Akane could
fall into a Jusenkyo pond or something."  She snapped her fingers.  "Oh,
wait, that already happened, didn't it?"

The bell hiccuped forlornly as the door flew shut.

Cologne turned to the Amazon boy who appeared at the top of the stairs.
  "You never told me about this."

"It's not as if it did anything," shrugged Mousse, carefully navigating
the blurry stairwell.  "She hit an uncursed pond.  Or at least it was
uncursed before she fell into it."

"And you didn't think this was important enough to mention?"

"Akane's still here, what does it matter?"

"Stupid child, it's called the drowning spring because someone drowned
in it, not because someone took a quick dip.  If the Tendo girl created
a spring at Jusenkyo, then eventually Jusenkyo is going to want her
back."

Hopping to the entrance, the Matriarch of the Joketsuzoku turned the
sign around so that it read CLOSED and turned the lock-bolt.

"Sit down, boy.  You're going to tell me everything that happened in
China."

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

Furinkan turned out to be easier than expected.

A stack of invitations mysteriously left in the dropboxes of the various
clubs resulted by mid-afternoon in the Kendo, Chemistry, Robotics, Sumo,
Photography, Karate, Aikido and Yearbook Clubs weeping inconsolably into
their pillows, clenched fists cursing the sky and wailing at the
injustices committed by this cruel, cruel world.  The Football,
Baseball, Basketball, Wrestling, Rugby and Track Teams simply sat around
the locker room sniffling, disconsolate tracks of tears streaming down
their faces as they shared a giant, wistful sigh.

Nabiki was in a much better mood.  After all, her backpack was now
lightened by a good three-quarters of its initial weight.

As for Ranma and Akane?  They missed all of it.  The two were sharing
Friday afternoon in detention, for falling asleep in the middle of
history class.

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"Hey, Fangboy."

"STOP CALLING ME P--"  the Lost Boy whipped around snarling, then
paused, thoughts skidding into neutral, as a girl sauntered up the
sidewalk towards him.

"Stop calling you P- what?"  An eyebrow shot up on Nabiki's forehead.

"P--p--p-p--"  His eyes darted around guiltily as he hemmed and hawed,
"P-p-p-p-p--" finally stammering out, "Plebeian."

The Tendo girl blinked once, ever so slowly.

"O-kay."

"Could you tell me, uh,"  Ryoga scratched the back of his neck, unsubtly
attempting to change the subject.  "Where the Unryuu--"

"Hold onto that thought.  I've got something for you."

He took the envelope from her, the innocent-seeming letter held between
his forefinger and thumb, eyeballing it warily as if it were a
rattlesnake poised to strike.

"This looks like a wedding invitation."  The bandannaed boy finally
said.

"Gee, you're a lot smarter than you look.  Guess that comes from not
being plebeian, right?"

He snorted.  "I'm afraid I won't be able to attend."

"Suit yourself," the middle Tendo sister shrugged.  "But Akane will be
*so* dissapointed if you don't come."

"Akane-san," Ryoga whispered, eyes aglitter in a perfect Pavlovian
response.  A moment later he shook his head vigorously.  No!  She was no
longer his to dream about.  Especially not now.  "Give them my
congratulations.  I'd just like to know where the Unryuu farm . . . "

But Nabiki had already disappeared.

 . . is."

He stood there, staring into the empty streets of darkening Nerima, the
unopened letter hanging limply from his hand.

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"NEVER!"  Bellowed the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High.  "I will NEVER
allow that wretched Saotome to enslave the beauteous Akane Tendo in this
farce!"

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"Hmmmm . . . If Ranma-sama is to be married, then this bride must
prepare her gown post-haste."

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

Soun Tendo giggled at the infallibility of what henceforth became known
as Plan 532.  He knew Akane would go for it, after all, there was
nothing like a little bribery to ensure a happy home.  And once Ranma
saw how beautiful his daughter looked in the wedding dress, he'd
undoubtedly go for it as well.

"Oh, my little girl is going to be married," he sobbed, curled in a
fetal position as he gently cradled the casket with "Nannichuan" printed
on the label to him.


=====----[ m.any miles away, s.omething crawls to the surface
            o.f a dark jusenkyo pond ]-----=====-----=====-----=====

The recently receded waters in the valley of the cursed springs stood
absolutely still in the light of the three-quarter moon, as if the
entire valley were holding its breath.

A hand broke through the surface of the water, skin shimmering pale
against the rippling black of the pond.  It scrabbled frantically
against the edge of the grass before finally finding purchase on the
bankhead.  A second arm then shot out of the water and in the natural
illumination, dragged the body of a woman to shore.  Coughing and
sputtering, she flopped back against the grass next to the pond, breasts
heaving with the rise and fall of her chest.

After a moment, she sat up and looked down, inspecting her figure under
ghostly illumination.  Hands drifted up her legs, over her stomach,
cupping breasts, then dropped to the sides.  She shook violently, then
closed her eyes, willing the tremors to go away.

She slipped on the robe that she had discarded earlier.  It hung loosely
on her frame, the edges dragging on the ground.  Picking up the wine jug
from the ground, she fastened it onto her belt beside her fan and shook
the moisture out of her close-cropped hair.

With slow, unsure steps, the woman walked out of Jusenkyo.


=====----=====-----[ n.erima on impact ]----=====-----=====

"Akane, could you come in here for a moment?"

The girl in question paused with her hand above the doorknob of her
father's room, then narrowed her eyes.  "Otosan," she growled.  "You'd
better not be planning to knock me out and stuff me into that kimono
again."

"No, no, it's nothing like that.  There's just something I'd like to
show you."

She hesitated.  "No kimonos then?"

"No kimonos."

She waffled.  After all, she wasn't completely stupid.  "You promise?"

"I promise."

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"Ranma, could you come in here for a moment?"

The boy in question paused in front of the guest room and narrowed his
eyes.  "Damn oyaji," he snarled.  "You better not have Akane knocked out
and stuffed in a kimono in there."

"No, no, it's nothing like that.  There's just something I'd like to
show you."

He hesitated.  "No kimonos then?"

"No kimonos."

He waffled.  After all, he wasn't completely stupid.  "You promise?"

"I promise."

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"That - that's-- "

"It's your wedding gift, Akane."

"My WHAT?!"

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"Yo, pops, whaddaya--"

**WHAM**

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

"Watch the store for a little while, will you?  I'm going upstairs to
get dressed."

"Of course, Ukyo-sama!" The kunoichi cheerfully replied, then turned to
the glutinous mass in the bowl the okonomiyaki chef had labeled "special
celebratory recipe."

It appeared to have an abnormally thick constituency, and the color
seemed to be just a little off as well, Konatsu surmised as he
thoughtfully stirred the batter.  But of course, with the wedding and
his mistress trying to be so noble, so brave, it was expected that she
would be somewhat distracted.

He poured in water, stirring the mix until it was of recognizable
consistency (well, perhaps a *smidgen* thinner than what was usually
served).  When he was done, the resulting mixture had produced four
times the initial amount.

"Ukyo-sama will be so proud of me!" the ninja gushed, placing the three
other full bowls into the refrigerator.

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

Four exploding foodstuffs.

Three beaus in waiting.

Two weeping fathers.

And one pigtailed girl cratered in the floor.

It could not have gone any better had she had more than a mere day to
plan the whole shebang.  Heck, Nabiki wished it could have been
immortalized in a painting to hang up on her wall.  This was her Mona
Lisa, her Guernica, her Starry Sky, her--

"KUNO!" Snarled the bride-to-be.  "Get the hell away from--"   Akane
slumped, bringing a hand to her temple as the room spun in a frantic
whirlwind about her.

       ( Stumbling.

        Falling.
        
        Plunging.

        Can't swim--can't--breathe--can't-- )

Nabiki watched on in horror as her little sister collapsed to the dojo
floor.

=====----=====-----====----====----=====-----=====

Unconsciousness wasn't such a bad thing, really.

At least not for Ranma, who was happily dreaming at the moment.  And it
was such a fascinating dream in a place, where things like exploding
okonomiyaki didn't exist and the dojo hadn't been trampled by several
hundred people, and a certain someone was still in that pretty wedding
dress.  No, check, it was now after the ceremony that he couldn't
remember any of, but she was wearing a little less of it now and was
just getting to the more interesting aspects of what happened afterwards
 . . CAKE!  Yummy!  He was just about to shovel another huge mouthful
of icing and angel's food cake into his mouth--

"Wakey wakey, Saotome."

--when a cold splash brought him abruptly out of a most intriguing turn
of events.

"Wha--how--whuh--?"  Ranma-chan's eyes snapped open to the darkened
ceiling of the demolished dojo.

"Looked like you were having a little too much fun there."  An ominous
voice filtered out through the pitch, followed by the metallic *plunk*
of a bucket being dropped.  The pigtailed girl craned her neck around
until she locked on to its source.

Perched on the edge of the table that held the remnants of
dream-delicious wedding cake, the shadowed figure hovered over Ranma
with all the warmth and comfort of a stone gargoyle.

The boy-turned-girl sat up and winced at what felt like a chainsaw rip
through her head.  "Nabiki, what--"

"Just shut up and listen, Ranma," the middle Tendo sister clipped in a
tone that could have created ice cubes.  "You mooch off of us without
contributing a thing.  I can deal with that.  You and your little
friends destroy our home on a regular basis.  I suppose some of its
inevitable.  It doesn't even matter that you parade around your little
girlfriends in front of Akane like some pimp daddy with a harem."  She
shook her head.  "I've accepted the fact that ever since you've shown
up, trouble's followed you around like an unwanted relative.  I've even
dealt with the all the threats, brainwashings and kidnappings of my
little sister, but then I had to hear -not even from either of you but
from someone else- that you got Akane *killed* in China?"

"It ain't like that," Ranma swallowed.  "I don't even know how she ended
up there!"

"And I suppose it had absolutely nothing to do with you, right?   You
know, you sound just like a certain someone we both know."  Looking
around, Nabiki spotted a discarded beach ball and hopped off the table.
  She picked it up, hefting it up and down in her right hand.  "I guess
it was inevitable, after all.  Like father, like son.  Too bad you
didn't fall into the same spring as he did."

The pigtailed girl stared at her for a long moment, then, as the floor
splintered under her fist, leapt to her feet shouting, "I ain't nuthin'
like pops!"

"Are you so sure about that?  Take a look at yourself.  Take a look at
everything that's happened over the past year and a half.  And then ask
yourself if you really are any better than that panda."

The middle Tendo sister tossed the ball at the boy-turned-girl.  It
bounced three times on the ground before rolling towards Ranma's feet.

"Make no doubts about it, Saotome, I will protect my family.  Even from
you."  Nabiki dusted her hands off, her footsteps creaking on the floor
all the way to the shoji doors.  "So get your act together, or get out."

Ranma watched the shadows once again engulf the girl as the doors slid
shut, then dropped her gaze down at her hands, blackened from the soot,
the damp and ripped sleeves of the now ill-fitting suit hanging over
small, dirty palms.

"Ain't nuthin' like him . . . "



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