Short Summary:

Ranma is approached by a professional demon hunter to track down a
wily individual he's known for months, but is underprepared for a
counter-betrayal of trust.


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--Razorclaw X (http://www.angelfire.com/art/rcxshizuka/index.html)


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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: ranffss6.txt

     Wheel of Fire Special #6: The Hunters

  Written by Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NYChotmail.com)
  www.angelfire.com/art/rcxshizuka/ranma/ranff.html

  Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and characters belong to Rumiko
Takahashi. Proper licenses belong to respective
properties and characters.  All other material herein
belongs to the author, and plagiarism of this concept,
in part or in whole or borrowing, in part or in whole,
will not only get you my ire but the priceless sight
of seeing you behind bars. No part of this document
may be reproduced, retransmitted, or altered, in part
or in whole, for monetary gain, incidental,
consequential, directly, or not at all, without
express permission from the author (if you are unable
to contact me then that does not grant you these
rights). Such condition applies to all my works, and
your ignorance is no excuse, as I reserve the right to
update this disclaimer, and it stands in whatever
shape or form it manifests in any work, appearing
there or not.

  Previous stories can be found in the URL given above.

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Day 1 of Stage One

A hunter lives to perfect.  Would that goal be to
bring in the greatest bear as a trophy, or eliminate
the scourge of demons, a hunter is never satisfied
until he achieves a state of serenity-- a mindset
whereby he is at peace with himself, and the world.
Most never attain this inner peace, but those that
persevere may find the path.

  There could be no inner peace, or peace at all,
until the scourge was eradicated.

  His black hiking boots crushed leaves underfoot as
the hunter pressed on through the silent forest, the
curtain of darkness falling over him, with only the
barest rays of the afternoon sunshine breaking through.
Although he himself was generating noise the hunter
could make out the telltale sound of someone running...
running in fear for their life.  He smiled to himself,
tipping his hat low over his eyes, and broke into a
sprint, his dark knee-length coat whipping behind him
in the wind.

  For each step the hunter took he could hear the
pounding of the hunted's heartbeat in his mind.  He
savored the moment, relishing the thought of the
hunted's terrified mind, and the inevitable conclusion
at the fore.  Grinding his teeth together, his right
arm reached to his left hip, grasping the handle of
his single weapon.

  Eagle eyes immediately picked out the shadowed form
of the hunted.  It looked back, fear in its eyes, and
the hunter knew the flash of his drawn blade would be
the last moment ingrained in its mind.

  Vaulting forward, the hunter drew his blade, with the
serpentine pattern etched into it seemingly glistening
with rage, and put an end to the beast's misery.

  Landing several meters away, the kappa, a turtle-
like humanoid demon, was still standing in shock.  The
hunter stood up and turned to see his handiwork,
spinning his sword to remove the blood, and then the
kappa's upper half started to slide off.  Beginning at
the waist, and rising at a sixty-degree angle, the
hunter's cut was swift and painless to the demonic
beast.

  It was far more than it deserved, the hunter knew,
as the creature's lower sections caved on itself.

  Sheathing his draconic blade the hunter took several
confident steps toward the fallen demon.  He kicked the
kappa's head disdainfully, snarling in anger as he
stared disdainfully at the beast's final expression of
fear.

  "Bastard," he hissed, "Knowing your kind you'll only
reincarnate in your world.  Any foolish human would
just summon you back, and then I'd have to hunt you
down all over again."

  He reeled his right leg back, and gave the carcass's
head another heavy kick, this time sending it flying
a couple meters.  Clenching his fists, the hunter
turned, and slammed the trunk of the nearest tree,
rattling the branches above and showering loose leaves
and debris of bird nests.

  "My talents are wasted on these good-for-nothing
minor spirits!" he roared, voice echoing throughout
the forest and sending birds flying.  "The damn
exorcists can handle these small offerings, but it will
be me who eliminates their ring leaders."

  "There may be a way," another voice said, emerging
from the shadows.

  The dark hunter stopped in his tirade, but did not
bother to look for the voice's owner.  "You."

  "They say strong spirits... demon, kami, undead...
what have you, are gathering in Tokyo," the other said.
"In fact, two exist there even now.  Perhaps you can
sharpen your blade on them."

  "Feh," scoffed the hunter.  "And what do you want in
return?"

  "Nothing; I only wish for you to rid the world of
two of the greatest offenders of Earth.  Now that your
longtime nemesis, Zhou Tian-long, has returned to the
Kami Plane of her own volition, you must track down and
destroy the underlings she left behind.  They are
gathering in Tokyo... for what reason, I don't know.
However, these two in particular are quite strong, and
it would be best that you don't underestimate them.
They have many human allies with them."

  "Heh, sounds like a challenge," the hunter replied,
amused.  "The dragon's minions will soon join their
master in the other world."

  The other nodded, remaining in the cloak of shadow
offered by the trees.  He repeated, "Do not
underestimate them."

* * *

Front Entrance, Tokyo University-- Day 4 of Stage One

  "Tatewaki Kuno, prepare to die!"

  The challenge issued just barely within earshot,
Tatewaki Kuno's head cocked in the direction of the
disturbance, viewing the rushing owner of the voice out
of the corner of his left eye.  He lowered the wooden
sword resting on his shoulder, keeping it low as he
slowly turned to face his challenger.  Fellow
students nearby backed away quickly, yet formed a
semi-circle around him, against the entrance, allowing
the challenger an unobscured path.

  Fondly, Tatewaki recalled doing much the same thing
to a certain Ranma Saotome-- vermin beneath his
notice.  He raised his bokken in the ready position,
eyeing the challenger with a bored expression, gauging
the approach.

  He silently counted to himself, calculating in his
mind when to strike.  He followed the challenger's
footsteps, ignoring the threat in the opponent's hand.

  Tatewaki thrust forward once, and the battle was
over before it had begun.  Lowering his weapon he
stared down at Shizuka Minazuki impassively, her metal
blade lying at her side as her sword arm was cradling
the bruise on her left shoulder.

  "I'll get you tomorrow," she promised.

  Tatewaki offered a hand to the fallen girl, but she
refused, slowly rising on her own will.  Her right foot
planted a defiant step on the discarded serpent-
pommel sword, as if Tatewaki himself was having
thoughts of taking it.  He had to admit, though, that
it did cross his mind to add Shizuka's pair of Viper
Swords to his collection.

  "Your approach is lacking in style," he said, "and
your stamina is lacking entirely."

  "Stuff it, pretty boy," Shizuka hissed, amidst the
applauding crowd.  "Even though I've lost all thirteen
times, the next one will be it!"

  Tatewaki snorted, raising his bokken to rest on his
shoulder.  "Hmm... your lack of training is self-
evident.  Is there anything you do not severely lack?"
He turned to leave, knowing that the incompetent girl
was boiling in anger... just like the last thirteen
times.

  As he was the only one living in Tokyo who had any
skill with the sword of any import, Tatewaki Kuno was,
predictably, the target of Shizuka's attacks.  In her
misguided belief that she could beat Ranma Saotome if
she could beat the great Tatewaki Kuno she rushed him
every day after class, in the same approach, at the
same time, and in the exact same manner.  For a moment
he pitied the pathetic girl, but such thoughts
vanished quickly.

  If she could not defeat Ranma Saotome, what delusion
was she under to believe she could beat someone as
great as I?

* * *

  "Why do you keep doing it?" Shizuka heard Deathclaw
ask, his abyssal voice echoing in her mind.  She
imagined the undead dragon spirit was tapping his claw
on her cranium as she made her way through town in the
afternoon light.  "I could point out a number of flaws
in your approach and your technique, yet you ignore it
all."

  "I'll beat everybody on my own terms," she hissed
mentally.  "I don't need your help beating anybody."

  The ghost dragon laughed.  "Isn't that why you
allowed me to possess you in the first place?  So you
can actually win a battle?"

  "Maybe," she conceded, "but I realized how cheap it
was.  I'm not winning any battles; you are."

  "True."

  "The only difference between the pretty boy and me
is he's got ten years head start," Shizuka reasoned.

  "No, it's because you don't pay attention," Deathclaw
pointed out coldly, finding the fact somewhat amusing.
"Humans such as Ranma can make up those type of
deficiencies in a matter of days; you can't, because,
frankly, you don't have any talent."

  "Shut up, dragon breath."

  A sudden rush of wind blasted Shizuka from behind,
throwing her hair in a tangle over her shoulder and
in her face.  Startled, the priestess of Genbu turned
around, and her eyes narrowed in disgust.  The blast
of wind dissipated, spiraling out of existence around
the young man, dressed in a plain T-shirt two sizes too
large, and loose, baggy jeans large enough to cover
most of his loafers.  The newcomer held an unfolded
rising sun fan over his breast, and snapped it shut
quickly, then tipped the edge of his baseball cap up.

  "Always know how to make an entrance, Ziel?" Shizuka
snorted.

  Chuckling to himself, 'Ziel' Kagura, the so-called
'personal assassin' for Shion, flipped his folded fan
over his shoulder, and caught it behind his back.  "You
never change, do you, Shizuka?  That was absolutely
pathetic."

  "Spare me the nonsense, and get to the point," she
snapped angrily.  "What d'you want?"

  "There's word going around in the underworld," Ziel
explained, putting on a serious face, "that Nekurow is
coming to town."

  "Nekurow?  Wh... no, wait, I think I know."  Shizuka
lowered her head thoughtfully.  The man in black known
as Nekurow was infamous among demon hunters; it was he
who dedicated his life to hunting down Zhou Tian-long,
otherwise known as Star Crusher, or Sypha Blade, most
commonly.  It was more than obvious that nobody was a
match for Sypha, but Nekurow would hear none of it.
Now that Sypha returned to her home out of her own free
will, however, the swordsman's motives were unclear.

  One thing was for certain... Nekurow did not see any
spirit as belonging to this Earth.

  "Someone tipped him off, I think," Ziel continued.
"He probably heard that a certain, ancient ghost dragon
is walking the earth again...."

  "Blah, blah, blah," she interrupted.  "Great.  Shit.
I knew there was a bad part to this deal."

  Shizuka looked back at Ziel, looking deep into his
dark eyes.  "Did Shion put you up to this?"

  "What do you think?" he replied.  "I don't have time
to waste on little girls like you.  Of course I'm
getting paid."

  Taking two strong, deliberate steps in Ziel's
direction, she lashed out quickly, like the snake that
was her symbol, and grabbed him by the scruff of his
shirt.  "Listen, pal," she said, her voice a deep,
threatening blade, "the only one who's protecting me is
me.  I'll have to talk to Shion myself later, but, as
for you, buzz off."

  Releasing her grip, Ziel took a step back, his gaze
impassive.  "Fine, we'll play it your way... for now."
Flicking his wrist, Ziel's fan opened all the way.
"But let's face it-- you couldn't fight your way out of
a paper bag.  You won't be able to shoot him even if
you wanted to.  You're just a dabbler."

  Raising his fan high, the young man waved it in a
semi-circle in front of him, summoning a spiral of
wind.  Shizuka raised her arm to her eyes, against the
dust kicked up off the streets, and soon, Ziel was
gone.

  Lowering her arm, her eyes looked to the skies.  "I
don't need your help!" she cried.

* * *

Tendo Household, Nerima

  "She chewed me out," Nabiki read on the desk monitor,
receiving the real-time information through the network
from her boss.  "Not that I didn't expect it."

  "You're hopeless," she typed back on her keyboard.
Although it has not been long since she was forced to
become acquainted with the more savvy features of
computers, the pay she was receiving as a result was
definitely worth it.  It was fate that she breached
Shion Kagami's Inner Circle, and, instead of punishing
her for it, Shion offered her a job in his little crime
ring.  Not only was she learning the ropes of how to
carry out business, Nabiki, as well as other members of
the ring, served as the boss's ear for his love life
problems with the most annoying traveling circus in
Japan.  People such as Shampoo and Ukyo were at least
good for business; Shizuka had 'Problem' written all
over her, particularly since she always cops an
attitude around Nabiki.

  Shion, under his underworld moniker of 'Warlock,'
replied, "Well, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I
don't.  I don't understand women."

  "No, you just don't understand HER," Nabiki
corrected.  "She's NOTHING like a real woman."

  A long pause.  Nabiki leaned back in her seat, and
folded her arms, tapping on her right arm while waiting
for a response.  She rolled her head back, lazily
eyeing the shut door of her room, and allowed her
other senses to tell her what was happening outside.
She could make out the voices of her younger sister,
and of Ranma... both walking past the door, saying
some sort of nonsense about school.  It was that moment
Nabiki remembered she was supposed to be studying for
her entrance exams... but the enticement of money was
within reach.

  Finally, Shion answered with: "If you hear word of
Nekurow, let me know.  Black hat, black knee-length
coat, long sword.  Sunglasses all the time, even
indoors.  Can't miss him."

  "How much?" Nabiki replied, money still on her mind.

  "Do your job, and we'll see about wiring you your
pay," Shion typed back quickly, seemingly a canned
response.  "I can't handle this personally; I've got
to go to my sister's tennis match across country," he
added, referring to Chika, Shion's other personal
apprentice.

  Nabiki sighed at the mention of Chika.  It was no
secret that Nabiki was Shion's 'pet project,' which
seemed to put Chika at odds with her.  For the first
few weeks of her new job Nabiki wondered if there was
going to be a schism, but, thanks to Chika's other
interests, this seemed to be a non-issue.  Despite
that Nabiki could not help but see her as a potential
rival for when Shion finally stepped down.

  Of course, the Inner Circle's chain of command was
rather small, and very stretched-out at the moment.
Shion and Chika were leaving town for a few days, Kanna
Rajura is 'vacationing' in China, and most of the other
Inner Circle members had no interest in leading.  In
which case Nabiki would have the most control by
default, but that did not preclude the chance of others
intervening-- such as Ziel Kagura or Ayame Mishima.

  "I'll see what I can do," she promised, not allowing
herself to commit either way.

* * *

Nerima Market Street

  No witnesses, she noted, as the priestess of Genbu
walked alone on the sidewalk, passing by closed shops
in the midst of the night.  The occasional street
light illuminated her path, as most people were asleep
or away.  The best time to attack anyone was when
nobody was looking.

  It was precisely what Shizuka wanted.

  She kept her eyes shut, eliminating the visual
distractions, and focused on her hearing.  Although she
could barely hear anything over the sound of her small
footsteps Shizuka barely detected movements... that of
random flies zipping by her head, or the distant roars
of the more frequented streets' cars.  Of her opponent
she could make out no sound.

  That, at least, meant Nekurow deserved his reputation
as the greatest demon hunter.  His quarry literally
didn't know what hit them until it was too late;
however, unlike any random beast Shizuka was ready for
him.

  Although his target was most likely Deathclaw,
Shizuka knew that Nekurow wouldn't care if she got in
the way of that.  Killing Deathclaw equated her own
death due to a forgotten, ancient curse... or rather,
it was the other way around-- Deathclaw could not be
killed unless Shizuka died.  Not that it mattered
either way... both ways of looking at it turned up the
same result.

  Of course, Shizuka sided with the latter view.  She
preferred to have had a choice in her own demise
rather than having it decided for her, as much of her
life was.

  She kept a hand on one of the handles of the Viper
Swords at her left side, ready to draw on a moment's
notice.  Both weapons belonged to Mizuki's family,
traced as far back to a ronin living during the
Tokugawa Shogunate... but perhaps they were taken by
that Shimozuki off another warrior.  In any case, the
swords were at least three-hundred years old, and
somewhat of an heirloom, but they were swords
nonetheless.  Not using them would prove to be a
disservice, as modern swords are usually not as
reliable.  On the other hand, it didn't matter if the
newer ones broke, either.

  It was technically illegal for Shizuka to be walking
around with swords so openly, but no one, no matter
where she went, had the balls to try and rectify that.

  She stopped suddenly, instantly reaching to draw her
swords.  Holding them underhanded like the fangs of a
viper, Shizuka tensed herself, throwing her eyes open.

  Flipping the swords overhand quickly, she threw her
arms back, just in time for her crossed blades to catch
the overhead slice from behind.  She felt the weight
behind the other blade, knowing for certain she had
underestimated Nekurow's ability.

  "Okay, fine," she muttered, "so you guys aren't as
weak as I am."

  Nekurow pulled his blade back, allowing Shizuka the
time to spin around to face her opponent.  The man
dressed in black wore a demonic Noh mask over his face,
perhaps in some sort of deranged parody.  His sword,
a sturdy-looking polished katana, seemed to glow with
excess energies.  Shizuka spied the serpentine dragon
etched on the blade's flat, and struggled to remember
where she had seen such a design before.

  "At last," Nekurow said, his voice rumbling with
anticipation, "a worthy challenge!"

  "Trying to pattern me?" the priestess taunted.  "I
can see through your cheap tricks.  They might work on
the feebleminded, but you're dealing with your own
kind now."

  "And yet you allowed yourself to become possessed,"
Nekurow pointed out, gripping his sword with both
hands tightly.  "To the ancient ghost dragon, at that!
You are no better than those we seek to destroy!"

  "Bah," she scoffed.  "I've got a life outside killing
things."  Shizuka rolled her blades back to underhand,
holding her arms low at her sides, as if leaving
herself open purposefully.  "I'll beat you without
awakening Deathclaw!"

  She rushed her opponent, her arms trailing behind,
intent on getting in the first hit.  Quickly closing
striking distance Shizuka spun around, with her arms
extended, aiming to circular slash Nekurow.  The black
hunter, however, did not stand his ground, and instead
hopped back, out of striking distance, and lunged with
his own blade.  Shizuka ended her spin in time to
deflect the blow with her left blade-- but her
strength was too little to force the blade away, and
instead she fell against the superior force.

  Scrambling back away in a roll just moments before
Nekurow's second thrust pierced her Shizuka got back to
her feet, considering throwing away for her shotgun.
Before the decision could be made Nekurow rushed her,
and it was all she could do but parry the heavy
swings with crossed blades.

  This isn't working, she realized, taking several
large, involuntary steps back, against the force of
Nekurow's swings.

  The next swing, however, caught Shizuka by surprise.
Instead of a vertical arcing slash Nekurow swept from
left to right, tearing both swords out of Shizuka's
hands.  Nekurow's blade was already at her throat when
she heard the both of them clatter on the street, and
her heart raced.  She stared at the demonic mask
staring back at her, wondering how such a man could be
such a monster.

  "Playtime's over," Nekurow announced.

  Despite her impending fate Shizuka kept her eyes wide
open, and, had she not, she would have missed sight of
Nekurow losing steady control of his blade.  It wavered
to the side, as if a strong wind were pushing against
it, and soon the weapon itself was ripped out of
Nekurow's hands.

  Another rush of wind blasted Shizuka from the side,
marking Ziel Kagura's timely entrance to the battle.

  "So," Nekurow said, "you're the other one."

  "Other one?" Ziel echoed, slightly confused.  "Oh,
you mean you're after me, too?  You're a little
outclassed there, pal."

  "I wasn't ready to fight a Wind-User," Nekurow
admitted, slowly edging his way to his fallen blade.
"I won't make that mistake the next time."

  "That would only be if there is a next time!" Ziel
thundered, unfolding his fan.

  Nekurow dived and rolled for his sword, quickly
retrieving it and narrowly avoiding Ziel's wind column
spiral.  Shizuka saw the black hunter reach into his
coat, and throw several small spheres.  Raising her
sleeve to her mouth and turning her eyes away the
spheres exploded into dark smoke, swirling about
quickly thanks to the rush of wind.

  Lasting for only a few seconds, the smoke was carried
up and away from the street thanks to Ziel's wind,
and Nekurow was nowhere to be seen.

  Shizuka sighed in relief, walking to the nearest
store wall, and collapsed against it, allowing her
back to slide down until she was sitting.  Ziel, for
his part, stood against the wall to her left, propping
his right foot against the wall and his hands behind
his back, as if waiting for something to happen.

  "I thought I told you I could handle it," Shizuka
said, giving the Wind-User the desired response.

  "It's what I'm paid for," he replied, seemingly
bored.  He tossed his fan up in the air, and caught it
with his other hand.  Ziel lowered himself down next
to Shizuka, and stared straight ahead to the other end
of the street.  "Stubborn bitch, he could've wasted
you whenever he wanted.  He was playing with you."

  "You didn't think I knew that?" Shizuka snarled.
"He wants to awaken Deathclaw, and kill him.  So long
as I don't do that, I think I'm fine."

  "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Ziel
said, in his canned response.

  Shizuka chuckled to herself, relaxing her expression.
She held out her right fist to Ziel, which he returned
by hitting it over with his own fist.  "I'm such a
pig-headed idiot, huh?"

  "You're welcome."

* * *

Front Entrance, Furinkan High-- Day 5 of Stage One

  The talk of the town spread like wildfire throughout
the schoolyard.  The point of origin was one student,
who happened to live in the market district, and was
awakened by noise the previous night-- the sound of
swords clashing.  From there it passed to friends, and
then to classmates; soon everybody at school, student
and teacher, knew of the midnight attack.

  Ranma had heard the story at least seven times by
the time school was out, and Akane, beside him, heard
it four times from her girl friends.

  "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Ranma said, as the two
walked out the front gates, rubbing his chin.

  Akane nodded, looking away from Ranma.  "It's
probably Shizuka again."

  Ranma sighed heavily, shaking his head.  "Doesn't she
ever go home?"

  He ran across the demon-hunting Priestess of Genbu a
number of times in the past.  Hailing from Kyoto,
Shizuka found all sorts of reasons to be anywhere in
the country doing all sorts of odd jobs, but lately she
holed herself in the Tokyo area, recognizing a strong
concentration of supernatural forces in the area.
While that was partially his own fault, as, for quite
some time, Ranma attracted a lot of weird people,
Shizuka herself attracted that same type of bad
attention.  Or rather, attention attracted Shizuka,
which in turn happened to be attracted to Ranma.

  And yet, Ranma refused to believe her being here was
his problem, but somehow it always eventually did.  It
was only a matter of time....

  The others that came because of him went home, and
Ranma somehow missed their attention.  Shampoo and
Mousse... even the old hag, were long gone, called back
home to fight a few battles on their own turf.  Ryoga
ceased traveling when he settled down with Akari, and
it was only rarely that he would come into town, lost
as usual.  Tatewaki graduated high school, and
apparently deluded himself into believing that he
doesn't need to 'prove himself' to Ranma; Ranma knew
it was only because the upperclassman couldn't harass
him on a daily basis anymore.  Ukyo finally sorted out
her feelings, and went home, taking her shop with her
in order to help take care of her family.  The latter
was what Ranma regretted most.

  Of course, there were others that simply didn't go
away.  Kodachi and Miranda both attended rival schools,
and they appeared every once in a while whenever there
was a district-wide school athletics competition.  The
two girls bore personal rivalry between each other,
but Miranda also posed a threat to Ranma.  In their
last fight she barely won, and egotistically lorded
over Ranma every chance she got, and utterly refused
to rematch-- probably in fear of being dethroned and
losing her fan club.  It was only a fluke that she won,
after all.

  Kodachi herself was no match for Ranma, but it
annoyed him that she was steadily-building her own
group of fan girls.  One of them, Ayame, was being
groomed personally by Kodachi, and she treated Kodachi
like some sort of queen, which disgusted Ranma fully.
The other biggie was a mediocre tennis player and film
student, Chika, who seemed to turn up at every scandal
in town; Ranma remembered her particularly for her jobs
done commissioned by Kodachi.  It was like having a
female Gosunkugi, but worse-- she was somewhat
competent.

  Then there's Shizuka.  It was far worse than having
competent opponents: she is a walking disaster and is
notoriously incompetent.  She obviously wasn't too bad
if she still gets paid to go all over the place, but
at times Ranma wondered how she got into her line of
work in the first place, or why she's still alive.
For more times than he can count Ranma knew that, every
time Shizuka was in town, he had to keep her out of
trouble.  She never, ever, thanked Ranma for his good
deeds, and always insulted him whenever she got the
chance.  Sometimes he wondered why he bothered.

  "Ranma..." Akane started to say, but Ranma already
knew what it was.

  "I know, I know," he interrupted, nodding twice in
succession.  "Maybe after dinner.  Maybe I can get her
to pay me this time."

  Although Ranma always mentioned it every time the
subject came up, this time Akane did not respond; it
seems that she, too, was getting used to the routine.
Or, if that was not the case, she was getting just as
tired of the resident chaos-bringer as Ranma was.

* * *

Tendo Dojo, Tendo House

  The man sitting across the floor was dressed
entirely in black, his black scabbard at his right on
the clean wooden floor.  Ranma studied the black-coat
swordsman suspiciously, his mind wondering if this was
the one responsible for the sword play the previous
night.

  Nekurow, as he introduced himself, approached the
household shortly after dinner, and just before Ranma
was to head out to bring in Shizuka.  The swordsman was
dressed all in black, from hat, to glasses, to coat, to
sword sheath, to boots.  He sat silently, opposing
Ranma, Akane at his right, and his father and father-
in-law on the left.

  "There is a matter," the visitor began, speaking in
a low, hardened tone, "which may require your
assistance.  I was directed to your dojo when I
inquired as to dealing with... demons."

  Mentally, Ranma congratulated himself, but remained
impassive.

  "Well," Soun Tendo said, assuming a stuffy tone,
"you've come to the right place."

  "There is one creature in particular which wanders
your streets," the black hunter explained, his voice
slyly working its charm through both older martial
artists.  "Long ago, this creature was sealed, and it
wanders the earth as a ghost.  Over the millennia it
has taken possession of a number of individuals, all in
a mad quest to release itself from its curse of
everlasting living death.  Even now that creature
stalks Tokyo, searching for the souls of purity in
which to undo its curse."

  Although the story sounded similar, Ranma knew that
the swordsman was lying; Shizuka related nearly the
same story about Deathclaw, but it had nothing to do
with souls.  He looked toward Akane, who remained
unflinching, but her hands rolled into tight fists, as
if to restrain herself.

  "This creature is currently possessing a young lady
who bears two swords," Nekurow continued, further
confirming Ranma's suspicions.  "She travels at night,
stalking victims, and plans on whose soul to take for
the harvest.  On the previous night I encountered this
demon, and it successfully thwarted my attempts to
subdue it... as the demon is not alone."

  "I see," Soun replied.  "One of your ability should
have no problem with such a demon...."

  "Unless there was another of equal ability acting
with it," finished Genma.  "So you need my boy to help
you."

  "Hey!" Ranma cried, his eyes rushing toward his
father.  "Don't volunteer me for these things!"

  "Yet you are the reason I have come," Nekurow said.
"Your reputation suggests that your ability surpasses
your instructors.  The demon and its assistant are no
mere minor annoyances, but major threats to humanity."

  Ranma lowered his eyes, grinding his teeth together,
and focused on his knuckles down on his knees.  This
black hunter was obviously describing Shizuka, and
certain facts were conflicting... but he never knew the
girl to act in accordance with others.  It made no
sense for two demon hunters to fight each other...
unless it had something to do with the second demon.
That had to be it.

  He tore his eyes from the floor, and realized that
Akane was watching him.  Ranma had no idea if it was
concern, or if she expected him to turn down Nekurow.
He had no idea what to expect out of himself, even;
Nekurow was asking him to bring down the girl he was
thinking about keeping an eye out for.  On the other
hand, if Shizuka really did get in over her head this
time, helping Nekurow would equate helping Shizuka....

  Focusing his eyes on Nekurow, he answered, "This
won't take long, will it?"

  Nekurow's head lowered slightly, and he smiled
slyly.  Ranma didn't like the look of it.  "Then it is
agreed," he proclaimed.  "You will be compensated
half up-front, with the other half after the demons are
taken care of."

  Monetary compensation, however, was the last thing on
Ranma's mind.

* * *

  Nabiki pulled herself from the wall nearest the open
door of the dojo, her arms folded, and walked away
silently.

  On the one hand, she could tip off Ziel, and then
he'd try to intercept the two before they got anywhere
near Shizuka.  Of course, that would put her at odds
with Ranma again, which seemed a bit dirty.  On the
other hand, she could simply ignore what she heard,
and let Shizuka handle her own problems.  After all,
Nabiki had no lost love for the priestess of Genbu,
and the feeling was reciprocated.  Then again, she was
also the boss's girlfriend-- Nabiki imagined him
denying it again-- and tipping Ziel would score points
in the organization.

  She shook her head, wondering when she stopped
thinking about such matters in terms of money.  There
had to be a way to make at least a few bucks off this
situation.  After all, Nabiki Tendo had an image to
maintain.

  Well, in either case, she decided, it was best to
figure out which outcome to work toward, then figure
out how to profit from it.

  More importantly-- was it worth losing her job in
order to get rid of Shizuka for good?  The last time
Nabiki attempted to get rid of the annoying priestess
her plan backfired, and gave more incentive for
Shizuka to come to town when she inadvertently met
Shion.  Even though both of them deny any sort of
relationship other than 'friends' Nabiki knew it was
her fault they got to know each other, as she had not
counted on the King of the Mercs having a conscience.

  Yet, what was the worst that could happen?  Nobody
would know if Nabiki did nothing to warn Ziel or
Shizuka about the double-team, and nobody would blame
her for it, either.  At worst Shizuka and/or Ziel
would be dead, but that's their problem.  At best one
or both will be out of the way for good, and Nabiki
can continue to leech control of the Inner Circle as
planned.  It was only a matter of time before Shion
left the organization for good, after all.

  Nabiki struggled to come up with a reason to tip-off
Ziel when she realized she made her way back to her
room.  She laid out on her bed, arms folded behind her
head and sandwiched between that and her pillow, and
stared at the ceiling.  The only thing that came to
mind was: "It would be the right thing to do."

  She discarded the idea immediately.  After all, it
was something Nabiki Tendo simply didn't do.

* * *

Central Park-- Day 9 of Stage One

  It went without saying that Shizuka could be
difficult to find when she didn't want to be found.

  Ever since that night Ranma spent his free time
actively searching for the elusive priestess of Genbu,
and was instructed to warn Nekurow when he did find
her.  He kept his hand on the palm-sized trigger in
his pocket, hesitating to press it as he approached
the girl sitting by the fountain at the center of the
park.

  The most immediate fact was that she was nervous,
sitting with her hands on her knees, and her left foot
twitching impatiently.  Shizuka's eyes were watching
the birds, and ears immersed by the sound of the rush
of water, but Ranma knew it was only a facade; she was
far more alert than this.  It seemed too fake to see
Shizuka-- hyperactive person that she is-- doing
absolutely nothing in the park, after all.

  As a matter of fact, it was fake; Shizuka had been
in hiding for the past five days since the attack.  No
one, not even her cousin, who lived in town, knew where
she went, and Ranma effectively hit a dead end.  He
considered finding a way to summon Hokuto, so she could
find Shizuka for him, but nixed the idea, remembering
her weird tastes in romantics.  He had no intention of
putting up with that mess anytime soon.

  Word got out on the street that Ranma was actually
looking for Shizuka, and someone who knew her
eventually passed the word to her, it seemed.  She
called earlier that day on the phone, requesting he
come in person to a very public location.  When he
named the place she only gave an affirmative, the time
to meet, and hung up the phone.

  Ranma had no intention of tipping-off Nekurow until
he heard Shizuka's side of the story.

  He sat a meter away from the nervous girl, not
wishing to get too close.  Shizuka, for her part,
maintained her false demeanor, and did not look toward
him.  Yet, he noted the single-barreled shotgun slung
over her right shoulder, with a full rack of shotgun
shells mounted atop it.  Her left hand inched ever so
slightly toward the two swords sheathed at her side.
Taking the hint, Ranma's eyes scanned to find
something to busy his visual feast.

  "Make it quick," he heard her say, sharp and quick.

  "You got in a fight a few days ago, didn't you?"
Ranma asked, staring up at the afternoon clouds.  He
picked out a formation that resembled a horse, and
stuck with it.  "I'm wondering what you're doing."

  "Don't try to protect me," Shizuka hissed.  "I've
already got problems putting up with the other one."

  Ranma sighed, unable to discern what she was talking
about.  The horse's body seemed to elongate in his
eyes.

  "You saw him, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.  "He
put you up to this, didn't he?"

  "Who?"  The cloud formation seemed to break in two.

  "Nekurow, the dark hunter."

  Startled, Ranma lost focus on the clouds, and
directly eyed Shizuka.  "If you knew that, then why'd
you come out here?"

  "I'm through hiding," she declared, her voice
backed more by determination rather than weariness.
She raised a clenched fist, discarding her false
demeanor.  "If I don't face him now he's just going to
chase me down for the rest of my life.  Actually, he
doesn't care about me; he wants Deathclaw, but the
problem is, I couldn't hand him over even if I wanted
to.  So I'm figuring he won't mind taking me out, too."

  Ranma felt a presence behind him, and jumped away
from Shizuka as she quickly spun about, one sword
drawn, in time to deflect a slash from behind.  The
dragon blade of Nekurow reached all the way to the
dark one standing atop the fountain, the water rushing
against his dark coat.

  "I commend you for drawing her out," Nekurow said
quickly, keeping his eyes on Shizuka as she scrambled
away from the fountain.  "Now, the other comes.  Deal
with him."

  Ranma produced the transmitter in his pocket, and
stared at it for several heartbeats.  He knew he didn't
activate it....

  Bystanders cleared the park as the two combatants
clashed swords, with Shizuka having brought out her
second blade to keep pace.  Ranma watched as she
parried with crossed blades, and knew she was no match
for Nekurow.

  Before he decided to intervene, a rush of wind
violently spiraled into existence.  Ranma braced
himself against the sudden blast, knowing it came from
above.  Holding his arm to his eyes to shield from
the dust, he scanned the area for the new attacker,
suddenly feeling his presence behind him.

  "I don't believe we've met, lackey," the newcomer
said, dressed in a plain baggy T-shirt and jeans.  He
wore an unmarked, plain baseball cap over his head,
with a slightly darkened part where some kind of logo
patch used to be, and held a rising sun fan over his
face.  Snapping it shut, Ranma knew that this was the
one Nekurow was having trouble with.

  "What're you to this?" the martial artist asked.

  "Ziel Kagura, the Wind-User!" the newcomer proclaimed
proudly.  He thrust his folded fan in Ranma's
direction.  "Your paltry rising dragon wave doesn't
mean a damn thing to my power!"

  "Oh, so you've looked me up?" Ranma replied, feeling
cocky.  He tensed himself for combat.  "Knowing is a
whole lot different than experiencing!"

  Ranma took the initiative, and powered for his first
blow with his right fist.  Rushing the opponent, Ranma
threw the first punch, intending to wipe off the
haughty grin from Ziel's face.

  But mere centimeters from the opponent's face
Ranma's fist met with high resistance.  His blow,
throwing much into a knock-out punch, seemed to hit
some sort of elastic barrier just around Ziel's body.

  "What the...?" was all he could exclaim before the
invisible barrier turned the tables on him, and flung
Ranma backward with an equally strong force as his
punch.  He tucked and rolled into a ball upon hitting
the ground, and somersaulted back to his feet in one
smooth motion.

  Ziel's expression turned into an amused smile.

  "I'm gonna wipe that silly grin off your face, pal!"
Ranma vowed, moving in for another punch.

  Moving with swift motion Ranma maneuvered himself
purposefully; he rushed Ziel head-on again.  This time
he shifted to the left, and wheeled his right leg for
a kick behind the head.  Again, his body met with
resistance, as the barrier once again prevented Ranma
from making contact with Ziel.  Not wishing to repeat
the same mistake as before Ranma planted his other
leg against the barrier, and used the push to spring
his way in a controlled fashion.

  Landing several meters away, Ranma looked back, and
saw Ziel laughing.

  This guy's no joke, Ranma decided.  Even though he
doesn't look like a martial artist this guy's got his
bases covered.  He hasn't lifted a finger, and I still
haven't touched him yet....

  Ranma looked at his right hand, balling it into a
fist.  For several quick seconds he studied the first
limb to fall victim to Ziel's barrier, and noticed
several slight burn-marks across it.  The pattern
looked chaotic, but it was made up of strokes from one
side to the other, in varying lengths and directions.

  Wind-User.  Yes, of course!  He's controlling the
air around him to form a protective barrier.  It's not
just any static barrier, but it's probably a wind
column.

  The moment the realization hit him, Ranma felt the
air beneath him spiral around his body.  Instinct
took over as the martial artist leaped out of the
way, just in time to avoid the new wind column that
erupted where he was standing.

  Glancing at Ziel, he noted that the fan he was
holding was open in his outstretched hand.

  It's the fan, he realized.  He's controlling the
wind with his fan... so how am I going to get that off
him?

  Waving his fan in arcing motions, Ranma saw thin
blades of air slice through the air from Ziel, and it
was all for Ranma to do to dodge them.  One zipped
under his left arm, while a second grazed his right
leg.

  "That's trash I can handle," Ranma muttered under
his breath, glad he recognized the wind blades in
time.

  "Don't try too hard," warned Ziel.  "I know your
strengths.  You think better on your feet, when you
can formulate your plans to beat even the most
dangerous enemy.  I won't make the same mistakes as
the others."

  "That's big talk!" Ranma shouted back.  "I've beaten
everything from low-grade swordsmen to demi-gods; don't
think some arrogant wimp like you can take me on!"

  "I watched you fight Kanna Rajura," he continued.
"You're barely able to keep up with a planner, but I
don't need such things to win."

  "I don't care.  All I care about is wasting you."

  Ziel raised the fan closer to his face, concealing
his smile. "Be my guest!"

  The Wind-User threw his arms out wide, and Ranma
noted that stray garbage farther from what the
personal spiral shield's range should be began to spin
around, picked up by wind.  Knowing that the barrier
was only expanding Ranma took several steps back, then
larger steps, only to be overtaken by the spiral wind
within moments.  The martial artist pushed himself
against Ziel's barrier, digging his feet into the
ground, but no force of his own could compete against
the elemental attack.  His body went numb as the air
around him turned cold, and he barely felt the wind
slice at his shirt and arms.

  I've got to get in, Ranma knew, but the force of the
barrier was too strong to push against.

  Ziel laughed, bringing his fan to wave himself
calmly.  "Fool, you're a hundred years too early to
beat me!"

* * *

  "Come, and awaken, dragon!" Nekurow cried, hammering
Shizuka's crossed blades with zealous fury.  "Show me
your true power!"

  Shizuka felt the urge to give the dark one the
birdie, but her hands were tied.  It was far too late
to conjure a spell, or summon a beast, now that she
committed herself to her swords.  Again, she cursed
her lack of training.

  The weight of the dragon blade against her arms
became heavier with each swing, but Shizuka knew it
was only herself who was changing in strength; Nekurow
was pacing himself with such light blows.  He honestly
wanted to fight Deathclaw, she reminded herself.

  "Tough luck, pal," Shizuka hissed angrily.  "The only
one you're tackling is me!"

  Just as Nekurow's next swing came down Shizuka
quickly dropped to the ground, flat on her back, then
rolled to her left.  She felt the air slice the ground
behind her, knowing the dragon blade was, for the
moment, buried in the ground.  Using the time to
reorient her position Shizuka leaped back to her feet,
quickly running the length of her right sword back
into its sheath.  Her hand was already up her left
sleeve as Nekurow pulled his weapon free, throwing up
large clumps of dirt in the air.

  The wind picked up around the park-turned-
battlefield, and Shizuka's hair whipped around her to
the side.  Annoyed that her sleeve was also being
pulled away from her from the blast she only had
enough time to find two steel cards before Nekurow
raised his sword and charged.  Throwing her arm up and
back over her head in a wide arc Shizuka let loose both
her piercing projectiles, cutting through the wind
force at great speed.

  Nekurow slowed his charge, lowering his blade to
deflect one card as the other sliced through his
black coat.  Staggering back momentarily Shizuka took
advantage of the dark hunter's minor distraction,
reaching over her back to bring her shotgun to bear.

  One shot, she reminded herself.  The shotgun was
always pre-loaded with a single shot, and must be
manually-reloaded using both hands to fire more; it was
the obvious disadvantage of a non-automatic shotgun.
If she did it right, one shot was all she needed.

  Hastily taking aim with her outstretched right arm,
Shizuka squeezed the trigger.

  Cursing her slow reaction the shotgun was torn out
of her hands, and was sent spiraling over her
head; the discharged shot harmlessly pierced the air
at a high angle when Nekurow's blade flat rose under
it.  The moment the sword raised high Nekurow
released the grip of his left hand, and threw it
outward, palm open.  A thick black tendril burst from
within his dark sleeve, quickly lashing around
Shizuka's right arm and binding it tight.

  Struggling against the strength and pull of the new
black whip, Shizuka stood with only her left sword,
and Nekurow, with sword in right, and whip in left.

  "You'll never match me," Nekurow announced,
disappointed.

  "Stop cheating!" complained Shizuka.  "Where's the
honor in cheap shots like this?"

  "Cheating?"  The hunter chuckled to himself.  "I
fight far more fairly than your associates.  All is
fair in a fight to the death!"

  "I bet you get your highs on beating up weak
people," she hissed, understanding, completely, that
she couldn't hope to compete with this opponent on an
even playing field.

  Ignoring her bound arm, Shizuka charged, her sword
arm out wide for a head swing.

  Nekurow, slightly surprised that Shizuka would do
such a reckless act, pulled his sword arm close to his
body, and swung outward.

  Splinters of metal flew everywhere as a blade was
shattered near its base, sending the broken sword point
spiraling in the air.  Unnoticed to either combatant
it embedded thoroughly into the earth, untouchable to
the ripping wind around them.

  Shizuka collapsed to her knees, defeated, with the
broken sword in her hand, and Nekurow's blade at the
left of her throat.  She barely felt the presence of
Death looming over her; her attention was completely
on the shattered blade in her hand.

  She remembered Mizuki once used this sword when she
was personally training Shizuka to succeed her duties.
She remembered the day after Mizuki failed in her
trials, that she would never again strike down a demon
with the sword.  It was this sword that Mizuki gave
to Shizuka that reminded her that her elder was always
there to protect her.

  Mizuki was there to protect her no longer, and the
twin of Shizuka's own Viper sword was destroyed.

  She began to laugh.

  Towering over her, Nekurow, annoyed, demanded,
"What's so funny?!"

  "You fool," she replied, a sinister tone in her
voice.  "Death stalks you!"

  Before Nekurow could act, Shizuka threw her head
against the ground violently.  Her head bounced off
the ground slightly, as expected, and the pain rushed
through her and consumed her.  Smiling bitterly, the
priestess of Genbu, defeated, felt her consciousness
slipping....

  ...and that of another awakening.

* * *

  The answer was so simple, Ranma decided, as he
resisted a strong gale of force from Ziel's fan.  The
spiral doesn't ever seem to affect Ziel, because he's
standing right in the middle of it.  Every other
spiral he creates has too small an eye to survive its
storm, so the only way I'm getting in is to get
through to the eye of the storm.

  Which meant, of course, that the only true opening
in Ziel's defense was an attack from above.

  Dodging a series of wind blades, Ranma contemplated
on how he could ascend to such a height without
hurting himself.  Ziel again waved his fan, whipping
out another wind column from under the martial artist,
allowing him just scant moments to escape the blast.

  That should be more than enough! Ranma realized.  I
only need a second....

  The next wind column that erupted ended with Ranma
still remaining on top of it, purposefully.

  Contact with the icy wind, Ranma knew, could hurt
him over a prolonged period of time, judging from his
contact with Ziel's shield.  Ziel created his own
weakness in his attack pattern, because the wind
columns blast opponents in a vertical direction.  What
he intends is for the blast to send people into an
uncontrollable flight, but a controlled flight would
give Ranma enough direction to make a descent.  His
own personal experience with the Hiryu Shoten Ha gave
him an edge others didn't: Ranma knew how to ascend
the column.

  He felt the wind catapult him up into the air, and
Ranma guestimated the opening of the spiral column
around Ziel.  Narrowly picking out the spinning dust
and dirt Ranma oriented himself downward, focusing
his energies in a dropping kick attack.

  Ziel remained unmoved, however, and only stared
upward impassively.  Holding his fan up high over his
head, the Wind-User waved his arm in a circular
motion.

  Before Ranma could descend the spiral column he felt
a rush of wind rise quickly into the air.  He suddenly
realized why Ziel wasn't concerned; the martial artist
miscalculated the extent which Ziel could defend
himself.

  It was too damn obvious, Ranma realized, as the icy
wind ripped his body apart.

  Numbness overtook him, and the biting cold tugged at
Ranma's life force.  Soon he could feel nothing at
all-- save for the gravity pulling him back down to
earth at velocity.  Even that feeling went away, and
Ranma could not feel his impact, nor any other
feeling as the wind died down.

  Ziel stood over his defeated opponent, snapping his
fan shut.  Aching all over his body as the warmness
restored him, Ranma barely heard the Wind-User say,
"A pureblood like you can't compare to my demonic
lineage.  Absolutely pathetic; I was expecting more
out of you than this."

  "Hah," Ranma snorted, struggling to get back to his
feet, but failing miserably.  He lay collapsed in his
self-created crater, staring at Ziel's feet.

  The Wind-User turned his back, knowing that he's
won.  "You weren't doing your best.  I'm disappointed."

  "I was," Ranma wanted to say, but his throat could
not formulate the words.  Or, perhaps, it was
something else telling him that it was a lie.

* * *

  Nekurow was, by reputation, known to be prepared for
anything.  He was, by reputation, the most vicious
demon hunter in this generation-- the most dangerous
hunter alive.  He believed himself prepared to take on
the likes of the greatest rogue kami, Zhou Tian-long.
He believed he was more than prepared to tackle a
cursed ghost dragon possessing a minor demon hunter and
priestess.

  When the spectral bones erupted from her body,
encasing the possessed in a protective wisp of a
shell, Nekurow knew he was far from prepared to deal
with Deathclaw.

  "I've miscalculated," he told himself.  "It wasn't
the dragon who was in control, but the girl!  The only
thing keeping that creature down was her own will."

  Taking several strategic steps back, Nekurow's neck
craned upward, his eyes meeting the empty sockets of
the spectral dragon skull towering overhead.  The
creature's head alone more than made up Nekurow's
height; the length of the creature, from head to tail,
was far more than he imagined.

  "The records said nothing of this!" Nekurow hissed
angrily, discarding the whip severed by Deathclaw's
spectral field.

  "They say," Deathclaw rumbled, the cursed beast's
menacing voice seemingly coming from everywhere, "that
surprise is what makes life worthwhile."  The spectral
dragon skull lowered to Nekurow's level, and dark
coals erupted to life from within the creature's empty
sockets.  "I expected something a lot tougher, coming
from the girl."

  "It can't be; you can't be in symbiosis with that
girl!" Nekurow cried.  "The records specifically state
that you always come under complete control!"

  "Then perhaps you should've finished the rest of the
record!" Deathclaw thundered, rearing his head back.

  Nekurow knew the stance Deathclaw was taking; all
'Western' dragons-- living cousins of the skeletal
beast before him-- possessed a breath weapon, and,
although the hunter knew not the nature of the attack,
he knew it could potentially kill him-- and any
bystander-- in one shot.  As he reached into his coat
Nekurow noted that the unconscious form of Shizuka was
resting, suspended in sleep, within the spectral
dragon's rib cage.  He knew it to be the dragon's
soft spot, but hesitated, debating priorities.

  Deathclaw's maw opened, and a gale of freezing wind
erupted, spewing in Nekurow's direction.  Holding out
his arm, having found what he was looking for, Nekurow
pressed the trigger on the cross-shaped object he
held.  Just in time, a thin field of energy flickered
to life, and the freezing wind washed around Nekurow.
He had no time to consider any bystanders in the
path of the breath; he only hoped they had the sense
to get out of the way.

  Risking a glance backward, he saw that others indeed
have fled-- perhaps since the beginning of the battle.
He then noted the nature of the breath-- it was not
just any freezing wind, but the dying vegetation
behind him told him that it was the touch of Death
itself.  In moments trees, grass, and bushes aged,
withered, then died before his eyes.

  "So," he noted, "the legends are true; those
unfortunate to be caught in the blast age before your
very eyes.  I don't plan on becoming a decrepit old
man anytime soon!"

  The Sun Shield-- a gift from the god Apollo-- seemed
to waver in its protective field for a moment, but
Nekurow was confident it would hold.  Deathclaw's
power was very easy to abuse, and could wipe out all
humanity if left unchecked; it was not much different
from Zhou Tian-long at all.  Evil beasts-- demons,
renegade kami, demi-gods, and the like-- belong on
their own world.

  He felt an energy pulse from his demon sword in his
other hand.  The dragon blade pulsed in the moment
Nekurow spared to look at it, and he knew the sword
forced from the fallen Orochi's fang was reacting to
something.  In all his travels the sword he won over a
slain Orochi clan member, the original Orochi Sword,
had never done such a thing-- not since his last
encounter with Zhou Tian-long in her human form.

  "What could it mean?" he wondered, knowing that
Deathclaw's blast was sustaining far longer than any
living dragon's could.  Of course, it didn't matter to
the spectral dragon; the dead don't need to breath.

  He felt the ground under his feet rumble, and dirt
fly off, carried in the direction of the wind.  Nekurow
knew for certain that Deathclaw was intending more
than simply turning him to a dry skeleton with his
breath attack, and braced himself.

* * *

  Pulling himself together, Ranma was among the first
to see Nekurow fly off into the air, pushed against
the force of Deathclaw's icy breath.  His body hurt too
much to follow the dark hunter's flight path, and
continued to watch Deathclaw's movements.

  If that thing is running around, he knew, the whole
city could be in trouble.

  Closing his great maw, the ghost dragon lowered its
head for a moment, and spread its great wings, in
parody of its living existence.  The creature vaulted
into the air, taking flight, with white wisps trailing
its movement.  Turning in a direction away from
Nekurow, Deathclaw fled toward the inland, disappearing
from view.

  "I could've won," he moaned under his breath, before
losing consciousness.

* * *

Tendo Dojo, Tendo Household

  Ranma shut himself off from the rest of the world.

  Akane and others helped Ranma get back home safely
after the battle, and the martial artist awakened with
the realization that he lost to someone who didn't
train in the martial arts.  Refusing dinner, Ranma
shut himself off in the dojo, sitting alone in the
center of the empty hall.  Hours earlier others would
filter in, one after another, and try to talk to him,
but Ranma never heard a word they said.

  His perception of time blurred; it must be past
midnight by now.  He heard no word from Nekurow, who
somehow tracked him anyway even without the
transmitter.  Producing the palm-sized device, he
tossed it over his shoulder, allowing it to clatter
uselessly on the ground.

  More than likely, the button was a dud, and Nekurow
was just following him the whole time.

  Nor had he heard word from Shizuka, who vanished
along with Deathclaw.  Creatures as big and scary as
a ghost dragon shouldn't be hard to spot, which meant
that Deathclaw got to where he-- or rather, Shizuka--
wanted to go.  He had no idea how she fared against
Nekurow on her own, but it was obvious that Nekurow
wasn't prepared to deal with Deathclaw himself.

  Ziel beat him easily.  The Wind-User covered all of
his bases, and even ridiculed Ranma for his performance
earlier that day.

  Miranda wouldn't quit until she won, and Kanna
outwitted him, but at least they respected his ability.
Ziel just laughed at him.  Everybody, even Kuno, had at
least some measure of respect for Ranma's ability...
until now.  One guy....

  He opened his palms to the ceiling, and stared down
at them, bandaged and bruised.  "I don't lose to guys
like Kuno, or even Saffron, so where did I go wrong to
lose to some random punk like him?  Can it be some sort
of fluke?"

  Balling his right hand into a fist, the martial
artist slammed it into the ground, punching a hole
through the floor.  "There's no way I'm going to lose
to that guy!" he declared, breaking his thoughts.
"I'll just have to do better than my best!"

* * *

Darkness-- End of Stage One

  "Everything is going according to plan," the dark one
noted.  "Nekurow... that fool, was in over his head.
Now that the first part of the plan succeeded, and the
prize revealed itself, there was only to capture it,
and make it my own."



-----------------------------------------------

Author's Rant

  Ranma and Ziel are formally introduced and challenge
each other.

  Nekurow's design and form has changed throughout many
revisions of this story, until I ultimately defined
him in this final form.

  Stay tuned for more.


-- Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NYChotmail.com)
www.angelfire.com/art/rcxshizuka/ranma/ranff.html

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