[Author's note: Just need one more person to get back to me with part B.
Should be out within the next 8 days. Until then, enjoy.]


Prologue

A seeming eternity ago, when he was about six, Ryouga's father told him that
during those times when it seemed the world made no sense regardless of how
diligently one tried to sort things out, it was best to ask the heavens for
answers. "From matters of the heart to the injustices of life, turn to the
skies and direct your questions there, and the answers will come to you, and
you'll be made to understand your place in things." Ryouga had been
incredulous, but now that he found himself embroiled in such a situation and
it seemed the only avenue that remained open to him. He had never done this
before, never felt so confused that he needed to, but no matter how hard he
thought, answers were not forthcoming. So now it fell to this last desperate
act.

Looking skyward with a hopeless, searching stare, he said, "I've got a
question for you. It's silly, really. I kind of feel embarrassed asking, but
I really don't have anywhere else to turn. I hope I don't seem stupid in
asking what might be obvious to anyone else if they were in my situation,
but I'd really like to know exactly how is it that I can be standing in the
middle of an American desert one moment, and then a flash of light later,
the next thing I know I'm waking up in the middle of China wearing nothing
but a pair of torn purple pants?  I've never owned purple pants in my entire
life! Purple pants look stupid! SO WHY AM I IN THEM NOW?!"

The cries startled Lin-Mei, the eight-year old girl who was helping lead
Ryouga, whom she had discovered in her grandfather's crops, up the trail.
She looked fearfully over her shoulder towards him, an action that had been
repeated before. "<Grandfather, he's yelling again. This time at the sun.>"

The old man, Yun-Lo, said, "<I know. He's obviously unbalanced, but
powerful. You saw what he did to the wild boar that tried to attack him.
That beast could have overpowered any ten men in the village, but he managed
to knock it out in one blow.>"

"And why am I carrying all of these sunflowers?! I don't even like
sunflowers! The pollen makes me itchy!"

 "<We'd better get him to the Master quickly.>" Lin Mei shuddered at the
display.

"<Yes. Quickly.>" There was a touch of hesitation in old man's voice. While
it was true Yun-Lo had no love of strangers --especially half-naked foreign
ones with bad taste in clothing who had appeared in a crater caused by an
explosion which had shaken the village last night-- he still wondered if
even this belligerent youth deserved to meet what was probably going to be
his end at the area's new sovereign lord. The stories Yun-Lo had heard of
those that dared to defy the Master... well, if even one of them were true,
he would be showing fealty with a smile on his face from now until the end
of his days.

It had not always been like this. Things were peaceful until three years ago
when the new lord appeared out of nowhere and announced his takeover of the
region. All attempts at resistance to his absolute rule proved futile in the
face of the raw power he and his minions commanded. The consequences to
resistance were severe, and ended very quickly. Still, in spite of this,
life was not unbearably bad. Aside from using the villagers as slave labor,
forcing them to build a huge fortress in the mountains nearby, and providing
a small amount of their crops to feed him and his handful of close lackeys,
the lord made little in the way of demands. He kept to himself, though there
were frequently strange lights and sounds coming from the mountain where the
newly built fortress stood. The bizarre displays would appear during both
day and night, but Yun-Lo was too sensible to allow curiosity to get the
better of him. The affairs of those more powerful than he were beyond his
concerns. The credo of his life was to keep his head down, be obedient and
all would be well, or at least as well as could be expected. He was no
revolutionary, no hero. He was just a pitiful farmer his entire life, and he
intended to die as one as well, but not for some time, if he had any say in
the matter.

The only reason he dared go to the Master's fortress now was that there was
a standing order about reporting anything unusual directly to the lord. For
whatever reason, he seemed fiercely territorial about his claims, and dealt
with intruders harshly. The boy was certainly unusual, and Yun-Lo would be
damned if he would risk his life for some overly loud stranger. If such
disobedience was discovered, he shuddered to think of what would happen to
him and his family. No, there was no doubt about what he would do. He would
lead the boy to what was most likely his doom and not look back. Guilt was
for those who could afford it, and the old man had been poor since his
birth, though even if he possessed a thousand times the money he had now it
would still not be enough to afford the Master's anger.

"I know somehow this is all your fault, Ranma! Thanks to you, I'm going
through hell once again!"

Yes, Yun thought, he would be poor until the end of his days, which would
hopefully be more than the ones this boy had remaining.


xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Avenging
Chapter 8
Ten Rings to Rule Them All
Part 1


Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net

At Larry F's at:
http://lwf58.tripod.com/fan_fiction/d_b_sommer/index.html

Or R+C books at:
http://dbsommer.rcbooks.org

And also Angcobra is now storing all of my fics, at
http://s5.sexshare.com/~angcobra/dbsommer.html

Standard disclaimer:
I don't own any of the any of the Marvel characters, or the folks from Ranma
1/2 or any of the other various anime sources I refer to here.

BTW: The idea for the opening here was created in my mind long before the
events of Sept. 11. Just in case someone thought I wrote that part as some
sort of reaction to it, this is not the case.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hasam tugged at the collar of his white shirt. The garment was far too small
to fit his six foot plus, three hundred pound well-muscled frame. It felt
like a snake was constricting around his chest. He would have sworn his wife
had shrunk his clothing in the wash, save that he didn't have a girlfriend,
much less a spouse, to wash his clothing for him. The puss green
sweater/vest that went over the shirt did nothing to help either his
breathing or his eyes, as it clashed miserably with the baggy plaid pants he
wore. Actually it clashed with everything he had ever worn in his
twenty-five years of life. The ensemble was rounded out with shoes so
blindingly white that they were nearly mirrored surfaces. Idly he wondered
if lasers would bounce off.

His head aching from staring at his clothes for too long, Hasam sought
relief by looking to his right where his partner and best friend, Fekish,
sat. Of average height, a slender build, and a year younger than his
companion, Fekish was similarly attired in eye-burning wear. As an added
bonus, he also wore a bright purple hat with a white cotton ball affixed to
the top that swung violently around whenever he so much as shifted his neck.
The assault on the senses was only made easier by the fact that there was
less of Fekish to go around. Unlike Hasam, the clothing chosen for his
friend seemed more form-fitting, though given Fekish's usual easygoing
nature, he could have worn an iron maiden and still seemed obliviously
happy.

It was times like this Hasam would have considered color blindness a
blessing. Choosing to spare his eyes from further torture, he turned his
attention to the only other passenger in one of the backseats of the
stretch-limousine. Col. Akbar sat across from the duo, trying patently not
to look at them.

"Why are you making us wear these ridiculous outfits again?" Hasam said
miserably to his superior,

The Colonel forced his eyes upon his subordinates and laughed, "My dear
Hasam, you are going incognito on this flight. The whole world is set
against our peoples, firmly convinced we are nothing more than a bunch of
terrorists."

"But we are terrorists," Hasam pointed out.

"Freedom fighters for the homeland," both Fekish and the Colonel said as
one.

It took every ounce of willpower Hasam had not to roll his eyes in front of
his superior. At least Fekish's reflexive regurgitation of
political-religious jargon could be understood since the shorter man was
probably the most impressionable human being on the face of the planet. He
was fairly certain Fekish could be talked into stripping in front of a
convention of nuns and singing "I'm a little teapot short and stout," with
only five minutes of prodding. That was one of the reasons Hasam had been
assigned to him: to keep him from doing anything stupid or giving away any
secrets he knew about the movement.

The Colonel's tone remained carefree and easygoing. "Be that as it may, the
two of you are going to fly out of this country in your disguises." He
handed booklets to each of the passengers. "Here are your passports."

As Hasam looked his over, his jaw nearly dropped into his lap. "My name is
supposed to be Sven Svenson, a professional golfer from Iceland?! Do they
even have golf courses there?"

"Several," Fekish answered cheerfully as he began absorbing the information
contained within the passport.

"Ingenious, isn't it? No one would suspect Icelandic golfers of being
terrorists. I came up with the disguises myself." The Colonel preened over
what he obviously considered an impressive achievement.

Hasam grasped Fekish's cheek and pulled. "I think our skin's a touch on the
dark side to try passing ourselves off as coming from an island in the
middle of the Atlantic Ocean that was settled by Europeans."

The Colonel waved his hand dismissively. "Bah! It doesn't matter. The
Japanese think all gaijin look alike." He carefully handed Fekish an
awful-looking briefcase decorated in yellow and pink pastels. "This is the
item you're going to take on the flight with you. Don't worry about passing
through customs. Its contents are impervious to detection. However, no
matter what, you must not open it. It must remain sealed."

"It's a bomb, isn't it?" Hasam growled as Fekish accepted the briefcase
without a word.

The Colonel looked insulted. "Don't be ridiculous; it's no bomb. This is a
very valuable item we obtained here in Japan. It's the reason to our being
here in the first place. It's imperative that the case gets back to the
homeland, which is why we've taken such drastic measures to ensure you can
fly it home without fear of being detained."

"Oh. When you put it that way, that makes things a little different." Hasam
relaxed slightly.

The Colonel added, "Although on the offhand chance your presence is somehow
detected and it appears you will be arrested by the authorities, there's two
concealed buttons located on the top of the case. Push them at the same
time."

Fekish held the case up by its handle. He spotted two nearly concealed studs
next to each lock on the top. "You mean these?" He brushed his fingertips
across the tops.

"DON'T TOUCH THEM!" The Colonel dove for cover. In the enclosed confines of
the limo, that meant lunging headfirst into the floor.

"It is a bomb!" Hasam resisted the urge to hit the Colonel with the
briefcase, mainly in fear of setting off the explosive rather than out of
any respect he held for his superior.

"Nonsense," the Colonel scoffed, recovering quickly. "As I said before, it
is not a bomb. Although even if it was, you should be proud that I would
bestow upon you the opportunity to do such a great deed that would usher you
into Allah's arms."

Tearing the briefcase from Fekish's grasp, Hasam began gesturing wildly
about with it in his hand. "I'll tell you what, if blowing one's ass up is
such a great opportunity to be ushered into Allah's arms, and everyone has
such tremendous respect for all that you've done for our cause, why don't I
give you the case and you can get on the plane with it, while I hang around
this plane of existence for a while longer?"  He thrust the case in the
Colonel's direction.

The man waved the overture back. "Alas, it is a tempting offer, but it is
not my fate to do such for the cause. I am much too important to our
organization in a number of ways and am quite irreplaceable."

"No, you're not. I've seen what you do, and frankly, it's not that hard to
sleep in most of the time, boss people around when you are awake, and spend
money on good food and better women. I can do it quite easily." He thrust
the case back in the Colonel's direction.

He refused it again, this time with a pointed scowl. "This is not a
negotiable point. It is imperative the two of you take this briefcase and go
on the flight, as you have been ordered."

"Fine," Hasam sighed. "Since it's so imperative that we get this case to the
homeland, can you at least tell us what is inside?"

The Colonel shook his head. "It is on a need to know basis, and you do not
need to know. I can tell you it was not easy to acquire and cost us a
tremendous sum of money, but it was worth every cent. In our hands, its
contents can change the face of the world and bring victory to our righteous
cause. That stupid, trusting infidel woman will pay for her greed and
improper lifestyle eventually, when the time comes to turn our attention to
this festering pit of infidels and their unbelieving ways. I will personally
see to it the woman is taught her place in the proper scheme of things and
is brought low. Hahahaha!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Roquat?"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"You alerted the authorities at the airport to be on the lookout for two
foreign terrorists in their early twenties, one very large and one average
height and a bit slender, dressed in suspicious clothing and carrying a
briefcase with yellow and pink pastels, correct?"

"Several minutes ago."

"Excellent."

"Mistress, why, might I ask, are you doing this? I mean, you did sell them
the product in the first place. And if you want it back, why don't we simply
retrieve it from them ourselves instead of bringing the authorities in on
it?"

"Several reasons. First, I want it back because I don't trust those buffoons
to not use it against our interests in some way, which was part of the sales
agreement. I'm just not waiting to give them a chance to stab us in the back
first. Second, we can't allow anyone know of our involvement in the
retrieval. It would be bad for business if potential buyers became aware of
our stealing our own product from the people we sold it to. That makes
direct involvement out of the question. Third, there is no need to expend
our resources in retrieving the object when the authorities will do it for
nothing? Finally, it's much easier to get it from the police than it would
be from our clients."

"Remarkable. We will come out of this situation with a tremendous profit and
at virtually no risk. I stand in awe of your business savvy, Mistress."

"As well you should. As well you should."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Such a stupid woman, like all of her gender." The Colonel continued to grin
at his perceived intelligence and wisdom.

That made Hasam worry all the more, because the Colonel was neither
intelligent nor wise, just lucky, and his luck rarely extended to those
around him.

This was a terrible situation; Hasam could feel it in his bones. He was
being made into a sacrificial lamb, and supposedly their religion was
against that sort of thing. But sensing the Colonel would not be swayed from
his plan, Hasam remained silent and waited for an opportunity to think about
the situation the first chance he could once he was away from his superior.

All too quickly they arrived at Tokyo Airport, and Hasam was not any closer
to a solution than before.

"We are here." The Colonel clasped both men's hands and thumped them both on
the shoulder. "May Allah travel with you."

"I'd just as soon he distracted the authorities rather than travel with us,"
Hasam said ominously as he exited the vehicle. Fekish was close behind him,
still smiling vacuously.

"So long, my friends." The Colonel waved once at the duo, then shut the
door. As it closed, Hasam could hear his superior hiss, "Get us the hell out
of here!" to the driver. The car sped off a moment later, tires squealing on
the pavement.

"Isn't odd how he only refers to us as his friends when he needs us to do
something dangerous?" Hasam said idly. Fekish merely shrugged.

Paranoia ate away at Hasam's senses like a sea full of sharks devouring a
bloodied fish in their midst as he and Feckish entered the airport. He was
certain every eye in the terminal was focused on them, ready to pounce upon
him long before they ever made it to the plane. And once that happened, even
Hasam didn't want to know what those damn buttons did. The Colonel had to be
lying. It had to be a bomb.

Unable to take the pressure, the big man spun on his compatriot. "Fekish?"

Fekish waved his finger. "Ah, ah, ah. We're undercover."

Hasam's eyebrow twitched. "Excuse me, Bjork."

"That's better, Sven. Now, do you think the green in Reykjavik is in need of
repair? I want to improve my golf game the next time we go on tour, and as
they say, it's only on a good green that you can properly hone your game.
That Woody Tiger fellow is awful good."

"Knock it off!" Hasam hissed. "You're good with locks and explosives. I want
you to open up that briefcase and find out what's inside."

"But the Colonel told us not to." Fekish suddenly became uneasy. He shifted
his weight between one foot and to the other, almost like a metronome with
how rhythmically he swayed back and forth.

"Yes, but the Colonel isn't here to give orders now and the situation has
changed."

"It has?"

"Yes. I'm in charge."

"Oh, well, I guess that makes sense." He stopped moving back and forth.

"Of course it does, and you know I've always looked out for you. Now do me a
favor. Go into the nearest restroom. Go into one of the stalls and close the
door behind you. Then open up that damned case without setting off any
booby-traps and tell me what's inside."

"Okay." Fekish obeyed the orders and walked off.

Hasam watched his partner enter the restroom. The feeling of being watched
grew exponentially. Had he been less loyal to a friend, and didn't like
Fekish as much as he did, he probably would have left the airport outright.
The Colonel was lying. Oh, he might have been technically telling the truth,
but he was putting their lives on the line while he sat back and watched
events unfold. Hasam hated that. He preferred the idea that in his god's
eyes, all men were equal, rather than those that had money were important,
and those that had nothing were useful as cannon fodder. He was no different
from the Colonel, at least not in the ways that mattered. There was no
reason their leader could not have been here instead of himself. It was
times like this he seriously questioned his faith, or at least those
religious leaders that supposedly knew what it meant to be faithful.

Tension continuing to build, Hasam paced back and forth frantically, drawing
stares from passers by. He tried to stop calling attention to himself, but
even when he scratched his nose, he felt eyes boring in on him. He began to
sweat uncontrollably, despite the cool air of the terminal. An odd
compulsion to stand on top of a trashcan and shout out to everyone to quit
staring at him grew ever more powerful. His breaking point was fast
approaching.

He was mopping the sweat from his brow for the third time when Fekish
reappeared, smiling happily and carrying the case as though it contained
nothing more than clothing. That eased Hasam a great deal. There was no way
Fekish would be so casual if he were carrying a bomb. Still, he had to make
sure.

"So, Bjork, what does our golf bag carry in it?"

"We don't have a golf bag."

"I meant was there a bomb in there?" Hasam hissed.

"That's not what it sounded like."

"Think of it as code."

"Like Pig Latin?"

"If it'll make you feel better, fine."

"Okay. No ombay, on the friebcasay."

"Stop that right now. No more code. Just speak quietly." Hasam swatted
Fekish over the head with his hat.

Fekish leaned closer. Hasam bent down to hear more clearly. Softly, the
smaller man said, "There's no bomb in the case."

The air left Hasam's lungs in a rush so loud that the gasp drew several
people's stares, but he didn't care. He hadn't been sold out after all. He
wasn't going to be blown up. He should have trusted the Colonel. The next
time he saw his superior, he would apologize profusely for his rude
behavior. "So what is the item we're smuggling back home?"

Fekish looked up to the ceiling as the list formed in his mind. "Well, there
were lots of things. Let me think. Inside there were several shirts,
sweaters, pants, socks, edible underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, K-Y
Jelly, unused condoms, a tube of talcum powder, a pair of suspenders."

Hasam began to tune out as his partner's voice continued its listing of the
common items. He wondered if it was drugs they were smuggling, perhaps in
the talcum powder. It seemed odd, but who knew how they were raising money
anymore?

Fekish continued. "A bag of golf tees, toothpicks, bio-weapon kept in a
metal cylinder with status readout on the side, lint brush, argyle soACK!"

Hasam threatened to crush Fekish's windpipe with how hard he twisted the
shorter man's shirt in his meaty fist. "What was that about a bio-weapon?"

"It's located in the top portion of the case," Fekish gasped out. "Right
next to some sort of device that gives out a false image to x-ray machines."

"How do you know it's a bio-weapon?"

"Oh, that's easy. I dated a biochemist while we were here. She'd get a
little drink in her and then would go on and on about the different types of
bio-weapons her company had her make. I paid attention to what she said
because women like it when you take their jobs seriously, respect their
opinions, and listen to what they have to say. I read that in 'Cosmo'."

Hasam cut him off. "And what happens if we push both those buttons on the
top?"

"It'll release the gas from its container, and depending on the toxicity
levels, it could conceivably kill everyone in the airport."

Hasam tuned everything else out. So, they had been betrayed, set up to die
by their self-proclaimed 'superiors.' Well, he'd show them how superior they
were when he and 'Bjork' left their little package behind. "Leave the case.
We're out of here."

"But, what about the mission? If we abandon it, we'll be punished."

"If we get on that plane, we'll be dead. I'd say all other punishments fall
somewhat short of that." Hasam considered the situation. "We can't just
leave the case in the middle of the airport. Someone will think it's a bomb
and they might grab us before we get out of here. And there's no way I'm
risking taking it with me. We're ditching it, now." Hasam looked around,
finally spotting a solution to their problem. "See those two guys over
there? The ones standing next to the gate and looking around like they're
trying to spot someone?"

Fekish looked to where his partner was pointing. There were two men. One was
huge, even larger and appeared more powerful than the sizable Hasam. The
other was about Fekish's height and had a similar build. Both were wearing
trenchcoats and hats low to their faces. "Those two suspicious individuals
that are trying hard to not look suspicious? Yes."

"They're foreigners that just arrived here. I watched them disembark the
plane while you were in the restroom. Go over there and play 'dumb tourist,'
and ask them in broken Japanese to watch the case while you go to the
restroom. Then head out the front entrance. I'll meet you there."

Hasam left, making Fekish swallow his doubts and force himself to obey the
orders. Casually, he went up to the pair and bowed before them. "Excuse,
please. I am most humble golfer from Iceland. Must use restroom. Please
watch case so no one steal."

"Is your name, Bjork?" the smaller man asked.

Fekish froze. How did the man know? Was it a trap? What could he do? How
should he respond? Important decisions were best left in the hands of
superiors, who tended to be smarter than him. Racking his mind, he came up
with the only wildly elaborate and nearly insane plan that he felt might get
him out of this dire predicament.

With a sly smile on his face, he said, "Yes." He prayed answering the
question would work, since he was all out of other ideas.

The smaller man slapped his companion on the back. "See? I told you so.
Didn't I say he looks like a Bjork the instant he headed toward us?"

"Yes, you did," the big man sighed in a tired voice.

Smirking, the smaller man told Fekish, "Yeah, go on. We'll watch your case."

Fekish bowed once, and ran as fast as he could towards the exit of the
airport.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The two men looked at the case in front of them. "It hurts just to look at
it, doesn't it?" the big one asked.

"I think it has a great color-scheme," the shorter one replied.

"You would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you have a terrible fashion sense."

"Feh! You're just jealous because your outfit isn't as flashy as mine."

"Oh, really? Why don't we take off our trenchcoats and ask someone?"

"We can't do that. We're supposed to be," the smaller man whispered, looking
around. "Undercover. People will know we're super villains if we show off
our costumes."

"So if the costumes will give us away, why didn't we just come in our normal
clothes?"

"Then how would the people we're supposed to meet recognize us if we didn't
wear our costumes?"

"We could have described ourselves to them."

"Oh, come on. What would we tell them? Be on the lookout for a pair of
Chinese men. One of them is somewhat slender, fast, and likes wearing wolf
skins while the other is seven feet tall, has four hundred pounds of solid
muscle, and likes tiger skins? Lots of guys look like that. They'd probably
walk off with the wrong people."

"Okay, but let me ask you this. You're saying that they're supposed to
recognize us by our costumes, right?"

"Yep."

"How are they going to recognize us if we're wearing trenchcoats over our
outfits?"

"Oh, that's easy. We'll... Umm, that is we can just... Actually we can...
Ohh. Look at those. Are those titties?"

"Where? Where?!" It took the larger man a moment to spot the woman heading
in their direction. She did indeed have an impressive pair of breasts, her
open tan vest and tight, white tee-shirt only enhancing the fact. They
barely noticed that aside from having a good body, she was also attractive,
with a long mane of black hair that traveled halfway down her back, bound
only slightly by a red bandanna on top.

"Do you think she's one of the people the boss hired?" the thin one asked.

"Oh, that would be great. Maybe she would show us her titties if we asked
nicely."

"I bet she would. You know what they say: nothing ventured, nothing lost.
Let's go ask." The shorter man picked up the briefcase and joined his
partner in heading towards the attractive woman.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Located no more than twenty feet away, hidden behind a column and trying to
blend into the crowds, Agent Kaori Otani of the undercover unit of Airport
Security looked over the description of the terrorists she and her men had
been given. Aloud, she said, "Two foreign terrorists, both men in their
early twenties. One very large and the other average height and somewhat
slender, dressed in suspicious clothing and carrying a briefcase with yellow
and pink pastels on it." She turned to her two partners. "Sounds like a
match. What do you think?"

"I think that hot looking chick has got to be at least a," Ryo Saeba held
out his hands in the woman with the tan vest's general direction, and cupped
them, squeezing slightly as if testing the ripeness of a pair of invisible
tomatoes. "38-C," Ryo concluded.

Kyo Saeba looked between the hands and the breasts in the distance. "Hmm.
Sorry, Kaori. I'm afraid I have to go with Ryo. Look's like he's got the
better match to me."

She grabbed one ear on each of them, then brought the ears together rather
violently. Each man's respective head followed the path their ears had
taken. Their heads produced a similar thud. "Ow!" Both said as one,
enhancing the brothers' identical nature.

"Would you two idiots pay attention?!"

Ryo said, "Is this another one of your jealous rants because we found yet
another woman that's more attractive and feminine than you?"

Kyo nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You have to get over this obsession you have
with us. I hate to tell you this --not that it will stop me from doing so--
but men just don't find you attractive, except the gay ones that mistake you
for a guy."

Ryo pointed out, "And she does get an extraordinary amount of lesbians
hitting on her. Some of them quite good-looking."

"It's that butch, tomboyish way she dresses. I hear women like that go for
that look."

"Think we should try that? I mean dressing like butch women."

"Couldn't hurt."

It took everything Kaori had not to pull out her gun and shoot both of the
egocentric, chauvinistic, deluded buffoons. "Knock it off! Pretend for just
one second you got your job based on actual abilities instead of the fact
your uncle is in charge of the force. We are in the middle of an assignment.
We need to get that obnoxiously decorated briefcase, with the highly toxic
substance in it, away from those two stupid-looking guys in the trenchcoats
without setting things off."

"You don't want us to set the guys off?" Kyo asked.

"No! The briefcase. We don't want them to set the briefcase off."

"Oh, is that all?" Ryo said. He and Kyo nodded to one another, removed
themselves from the cover of the column and headed towards the two men
without another word.

Kaori paled. The two idiots were dead, which wouldn't have been so bad, save
for the fact they were going to take her and everyone else in the airport
with them. She briefly considered gunning the pair down before they drew too
close to the terrorists, but couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. It
was too quick a death for them. All she could do was close her eyes and say
a prayer.

"I swear by all that is holy I will go with you two idiots to Hell and
torment you there even as you tormented me in this life."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The two trenchcoated men were about to approach the woman when they found
two identical twins, about their age, stepping in front of them and
preventing them from walking up to the woman and asking her about a quick
peek of her breasts.

Kyo said, "Would you mind giving me the briefcase?"

"Our partner would appreciate it greatly," Ryo continued. "She's going to
bitch a lot if we don't get it for her. Actually, she'll bitch a lot anyway,
but she won't turn quite as red if we have the briefcase than if we don't."

The pair looked at one another, then shrugged. The shorter man said, "I know
what it's like to get yelled at. Our boss does it to us all the time. Do the
veins on her forehead pop out?

"Oh, all the time," Kyo assured him.

Ryo said, "We tried playing connect the dots with them once, but she got
angry with that, too."

The smaller man elbowed his companion in the ribs. "Hey, we ought to try
that with the boss."

"It would be pretty funny," the larger man agreed.

"Here." Feeling sympathetic to the twins' plight, the shorter man handed Ryo
the briefcase.

Ryo turned back to where Kaori still remained behind the pillar, nearly
chewing on the concrete in anxiety. "We have it! And I still don't see why
you were whining so much about getting it! All you needed to do was ask
politely!"

"Get out of the line of fire!" She shouted, rounding the column and pointing
the gun at the two suspicious men. She was joined by the other twenty
members of her unit, all of whom followed Kaori's lead and burst from their
concealment, aiming their guns at the strangers. "You two put your hands
behind your heads and drop to your knees, right now!"

The pair looked the situation over. The larger one said, "I think our
cover's blown."

"I'd be inclined to agree."

"Our instructions were clear if that happened. This is the moment you've
been waiting for."

"You got that right. Let's do it!"

Both men threw off their trenchcoats just as the circle of undercover
personnel closed in on them. All of the civilians who found themselves
between the two groups ran for cover in a mass panic. The only one that left
coolly was the woman who had been the focus of both the foreigners and the
twin's attention.

As their trenchcoats hit the ground, both men pulled their masks on and
stood revealed before the law enforcement personnel in all their brightly
dressed glory. The larger man wore a full-bodied costume. It was plain brown
around the hands and lower arms, along his boots and lower legs, and across
his pelvis, shoulders, upper chest and mask. A dark orange covered the few
remaining areas of his costume. Only the area around his eyes and mouth was
cut out, allowing him to see and breather easier.

The smaller man wore a costume that was dull yellow, only broken up by blue
along his hands and upper arms, and on his boots. A large blue 'W' was in
the center of his chest. The only other odd feature were a tiny set of white
wings on his mask, located around the ears.

The law enforcement personnel drew back. Kaori kept her gun leveled at the
pair as she said, "Tell me these guys aren't super powered beings. We
seriously can't deal with SPB's."

In response to her question that was more of a plea, the larger man ripped
up a huge section of walkway that several of the police were standing on,
knocking them off their feet and sending them into various states of
unconsciousness as they fell in among the debris.

"Shit!" Kaori only hoped the large man was not invulnerable as well as
strong. She lined her gun  sights up with the head of the man, and aimed at
the mouth. Maybe she would get lucky and he'd have it open when she fired.
Insides weren't anywhere near as invulnerable as outsides on these guys, or
so she had heard.

Just as her finger squeezed the trigger, there was a yellow blur and she
suddenly found herself without a pistol. It took a moment for the pain of
having her finger nearly ripped off to set in, and she clenched her teeth in
agony. Other men weren't as stoic as they shouted out, holding their hands
in pain. Kaori was one of the few to realize what had happened to their
firearms.

The yellow garbed man dropped the last of them in a pile at his feet. "It's
not nice to point your guns at the future rulers of the planet."

The larger one said, "You tell them, Mint."

Mint turned on his comrade. "No! When we're in costume, we use our
super-villain names. I'm the Whizzer."

The big man appeared embarrassed. "Aw, come on. I don't want to be called by
my name. I like Lime perfectly fine. It's been my name my entire life."

"No way! You have to. It's all part of being a decent super villain. You
have to have a cool name and people call you it. That's why I picked yours
for you. It'll strike fear into your adversaries."

"I don't think 'Power Man' is going to strike fear into anybody."

"But it's appropriate. You've got power, and you're a man. So that makes you
Power Man."

"Well, I guess you're right."

Kyo recovered enough to say, "Okay, so his super ability is that he's big
and strong, so that makes him Power Man. That means you, with your name
being the Whizzer and that color of costume you're wearing, must be your
super ability is to..." He trailed off

Ryo picked up the line of thought. "Ewwww! That's completely disgusting."

Whizzer looked at them, confused. "What is?"

Kyo gave him an  'are you that stupid?' look. It was one that only children
really mastered, most adults forgetting how to do it as they got older.
"It's obvious. With your name, and the color of your yellow costume, you can
only have one super power..."

"...That of super peeing," Ryo finished.

Whizzer recoiled at that. He pointed accusingly across the terminal to where
Ryo stood. "That is not my super human ability. I'm super--"

Ryo saw him disappear.

"--Fast." Whizzer finished as he stood next to Ryo, the officer's wallet in
hand.

Ryo grabbed the offered limb that held his wallet, then pulled out a set of
cuffs. "All right. Being a terrorist is one thing, but there's nothing lower
than being a pickpocket." Ryo slapped the cuff on the appendage he was
holding, only to discover...

"Hey, I cuffed myself."

"Told you I was fast." Whizzer side-stepped Kyo as the officer tried to hit
him with a stun baton, allowed the man to trip over his outstretched foot,
and caused Kyo to hit his twin with the baton.

Kyo looked at his brother's stunned form. "Curiously, I don't feel the
slightest bit of remorse at that." Not one to let a decent opportunity pass
by, Kyo kicked his brother once again in the side, intent on blaming the
super-villain later.

"Dog pile on the big guy!" Kaori shouted to the remaining personnel. She
chose to stand outside the fray as the men obeyed her orders and threw
themselves at Power Man. As commander of the operation, it was her duty to
call in reinforcements, such as every military and law enforcement person in
a fifty kilometer radius to come to their aid. She only prayed it would be
enough to stop these two monsters before the casualties became too high.
This screwed up, loser situation was exactly why she loathed super powered
beings. And every time she encountered another one, her anger grew. She
didn't care if the media had dubbed some of them heroes. They were all a
threat. Something had to be done about them before it was too late.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

High above, perched on the slanted rooftop of a tall building overlooking
several blocks, Hawkeye stared down at the city streets, perturbed. She had
been looking for some sign of criminal activity, but all she managed to
catch was a couple of purse snatchers and the start of a cold. They had been
hardly worth the effort of the glue arrow used on them, and she had no
anti-histamines to stop her sniffling. It was looking like she would have to
call it a day. She would have preferred operating at night, but there was
the restaurant to run and school to eventually enroll in, so this was the
only time Ukyou had available to hunt down criminals for the rest of the
week.

The stuffiness in her head warned her it was time to give up and call it a
day when she spotted a quick movement below. Two female police officers
bolted out of a restaurant and into their car. On a whim, Hawkeye shot a
cable arrow into the ground next to the rear driver's door and slid down the
length of cable even as the car started up.

Hawkeye knocked on the window. "Excuse me." She made out the name on the
driver's badge. "Kobayakawa-san, I'm one of the heroes that's new to this
town, name's Hawkeye. You need any assistance?"

The pair looked the archer over cautiously. Kobayakawa was the first to
speak. "I remember you. Aoi said you helped him nail some would-be rapists
last week."

"Saturday night," Hawkeye confirmed.

"Right. Well, as nice as the request is, I'm afraid we can't allow
unauthorized personnel to ride in our vehicle without--" Kobayakawa found
her speech interrupted by her partner, Tsujimoto tapping on her shoulder.

"Let him in," Tsujimoto whispered in Kobayakawa's ear. "Since we're dealing
with superpowered bad guys, we can use the help. We're authorized to let
people ride with us in emergency situations. Besides, he's wearing tights
and has a seriously hot ass. This might be our only chance to hit on a major
hunk."

"I'm not that superficial," Kobayakawa said.

Tsujimoto gave her a warning stare. "How long have we been partners?"

Kobayakawa considered that and sighed. "Fine, I am. But I'm more subtle
about it than you."

"Agreed."

To Hawkeye, Kobayakawa announced. "Hop in the back."

Hawkeye could feel herself blushing as she accepted the ride. She had caught
the 'hot ass' comment. A pity it had to come from a female. It was times
like these Ukyou hated impersonating a guy to help keep her identity secret.
At this rate, she would never get lucky enough to find a boyfriend. It was
too bad, too, since she had met a number of good-looking male officers
during the ensuing weeks of her new second career. However, she couldn't hit
on them for fear of them freaking out, and she certainly didn't trust any of
them enough to confide her secret identity. With the way her life was going,
she feared ever having a chance at finding a decent boyfriend.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The hero known as Daredevil finished tying up the latest of his so-called
'Rogue's Gallery'. The self-proclaimed, 'Master of Disguises,' a name so
unwieldy that even the villain in question had taken to calling himself just
MoD. Daredevil made certain to use the coarsest set of chains that were
concealed in his voluminous crimson-colored robes.

"Curse you, Dirtdevil!" MoD snarled. "How did you know it was me under this
nun-disguise? I thought it was foolproof!"

Daredevil pulled with far more force than was required on the chains.
"First, my name is Daredevil. Second, you made the mistake of using
aftershave, as well as the allowing the smell of gunpowder cling to your
habit. There isn't a nun around that would use Brute and shoot firearms."

"Obviously you never attended a Catholic school," the man muttered.

While MoD was still lamenting his fate, Daredevil's acute hearing picked out
the sound of a police car heading at top speed in his direction from two
blocks away. Quickly, the masked man threw one end of the chain over a
nearby lamppost and hoisted the criminal up into the air.

"Hey! I'm chaffing here! I'll sue you for physical abuse and excessive
force!" MoD roared.

"I can recommend a good lawyer for you," Daredevil muttered as he wrapped a
different chain around a lamppost and swung through the air. His timing was
perfect as on the downside arc of his swing the police cruiser turned the
corner and started to whip by. Daredevil landed deftly on the moving
vehicle's roof, then lay flat and grabbed onto the sides without allowing
the driver to be aware of his presence.

As Mousse traveled overhead, he was barely able to hear the officer's radio
over the roaring of the engine. "Confirmation on two super villains at the
airport. One is really strong and called Powerful Guy. The other has
something to do with urination, evidently. Be advised and grab a poncho."

Daredevil sighed from his perch on the roof. It just figured; yet another
loser super-villain to deal with, and a perverted one no less. Didn't they
have any standards? Daredevil swore he would be going after the strong one,
no matter how tough he was. Anything was better than fighting another putz.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where do you think you're going, boy?" Genma shouted to his son's back as
the pair continued up the road. It had taken Genma nearly an hour to track
his son down, given the tremendous lead the youth had built up since he had
departed the Tendou residence earlier in the morning. It would have been no
cause for concern, except the boy had taken all of his belongings with him.

Ranma continued walking forward while answering, keeping his back to his
father. "I told you, Pop. I'm buying a plane ticket to China, and finding a
cure." He shouldered his pack, with the disguised shield strapped to it, for
emphasis.

"Foolish boy, you can't possibly afford air fare to China."

"I can if I sell this useless hunk of metal strapped to my back." Ranma
patted the paper-wrapped shield.

"But you need that to become a great and powerful super hero."

Ranma stopped and gave his father a surprisingly soft look. "You're
absolutely right, Pop. I need it to become a great and powerful super-hero."

"Then you've seen reason and are coming back home?"

"I've seen reason and am not becoming a super-hero." With the matter
decided, Ranma doubled his pace. It wasn't that far to the airport, just
another five miles or so.

Something uneasy shifted in the pit of Genma's stomach. For some reason, the
boy sounded determined this time. Really determined. "But your mother-"

"Can go join S.H.I.E.L.D if she wants to help bust super villains and wear a
flashy skintight costume. I'll keep practicing martial arts, fine! I like
that. But this being a heroic paragon of the country crap is over! I am a
normal guy, except for that stupid curse thing that you gave me. I am not a
super-hero, nor a super-hero sidekick, with a cowardly panda as a mascot!"

"I'm a cute animal sidekick, not a mascot," Genma insisted.

"It's over, Pop. Deal with it.'

"But son-"

Ranma spun in anger upon his father. "Damn it, Old Man, you don't get it!
I'm tired of every time there's a little trouble you throw me into that
ridiculous costume and tell me to get my head taken off by some lunatic who
can freeze me solid with his breath or secretes acid through his pores! I am
not a human target! I'm just a kid that hasn't even been able to make more
than a handful of friends in his entire life because I have to run around
and train thanks to this stupid idea Mom had! I'm tired of you guys trying
to make me into something I'm not. I'm sorry I drank that super soldier crap
that I don't even remember drinking. I wish I had never seen it in the first
place, then I'd be normal and not have to put up with this dumb stuff. I
don't care if I've done some good here and there. It's not like I even need
the costume for any of it. I just want to be left alone."

A police car rolled past, sirens blaring, in the direction of the airport.

Genma was about to make some remark about how if Ranma hadn't drank the
formula he'd have probably grown up a skinny wimp when he sensed the
seriousness in his son's ultimatum. It was not totally unexpected. Once
Ranma had gotten older and realized there was a world outside of training to
be a super hero, he had been resistant to fulfilling the pledge. Usually
he'd agree with the plan once Genma talked some sense into him, but other
times he would dig his feet in and become almost intractable, causing Genma
to waste hours explaining how things had to be. But this time it was worse,
undoubtedly due to the curse, being engaged to one of the Tendou girls
(which one was still up in the air), and living up to the high expectations
of him now that they were becoming a reality. But in the end, it didn't
matter. The boy had to tow the line. It was up to Genma to deal with the
matter before it got out of hand.

The older man adjusted his glasses, one of the signs that he was going to
deal with a matter in complete seriousness. "The world needs you, boy. It
needs heroes now more than ever. You have the potential to be one of the
greatest, not just because the super soldier serum runs through your veins
or because you have an indestructible shield, but because you have the will
to keep on going where others would falter. Once you're determined to do
something, you keep at it until the job's done. That you have the abilities
you do makes it all the easier for you to accomplish your tasks. You fought
that Hulk even though he was far more powerful than you. You defeated Ulos,
even though he could bench press a Toyota, and you won because you
persevered. That's what I mean."

Another car roared past, momentarily interrupting the speech. Genma waited
until it trailed off into the distance to speak again.

"Strange days are upon us, boy. I've been feeling it building up for the
last few years, and I think the dam broke recently. You have heroes and
villains popping up all over the place. It's true there were a handful in
the early days of my childhood, even in my grandparent's day there were a
few. But now, now it's like it's all hit at once. You're a basically good
person, maybe even better than me, I'll admit. You'll be one of the best,
someone that can be trusted above so many others. You should be the one
people look up to, largely in part because you don't want the job. It's
harder to abuse power you don't want to wield, and power you'll have. People
will believe in you and follow you. They'll trust their lives to you, if you
let them. But you have to let them, boy, otherwise there's no telling who
they'll follow. All I know is, it would be better if it were you instead of
someone else.

"It's not easy. Responsibilities never are. But you're more than capable of
managing it, once you set your mind to it. You just have to believe in
yourself." Genma adjusted his glasses again. It was all he had to say. There
probably could have been more, but it would have just been repeating the
same thing in a different way. Best to leave it as is and wait for his son's
reaction.

Two more police cars roared past, sirens screaming that something dreadful
was occurring. The pair watched the vehicles travel down the road until they
were out of sight.

Genma looked at Ranma expectedly. It was a hard look, one Ranma had rarely
seen on his father. Under different circumstances, with different issues at
stake, he would most likely have relaxed his defenses and listened
wholeheartedly to what the older man was trying to tell him. But not this
time. Something told Ranma this was where an important decision had to be
made. Either he would  set out on the course his parents had dictated to him
since as far back as he could remember, or set out on one of his own
choosing. It was perhaps the most important decision of his young life, and
couldn't be decided to casually. And then it happened in the blink of an
eye. A resolve he had never known settled upon him. He knew what was right
for him, and he wouldn't back down, no matter what.

Ranma looked at his father, gave a sad shake of the head, and sighed. "Fine,
I'll follow those police cars and help them out if they need it."

Genma beamed at the declaration. "I knew you had it in you. I've never been
so proud of you as this moment, son, and I mean that. Choosing to become a
super-hero is-" Genma abruptly stopped as Ranma handed him the wrapped up
shield.

Before the older man could say another word, Ranma informed him in a calm
and controlled voice, "I'm going to help them out, but it's going to be as
Ranma Saotome, not Captain Japan or Bucky. I'm never using that shield
again. Find yourself someone else to play superhero."

Without another word Ranma ran at top speed in the direction that the police
cars had taken, not even giving Genma a backward glance. In his mind, it was
over.

Genma was left holding the shield, uncertain of what to say. More slowly he
followed, the feeling of a lifelong dream shattering into a thousand pieces,
echoing with every step taken.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Officers Kobayakawa and Tsujimoto pulled up in front of the airport, joining
a handful of other police vehicles that had also arrived there.

"So where do you think the super-villains are?" Kobayakawa asked as she
tried to find a decent place to park.

A one meter ball of twisted plastic and metal, the remnants of a sushi
stand, came hurtling through one of the walls of the airport and landed
squarely on the hood of their car, caving in the entire front portion of the
vehicle and forcing it to an instant standstill.

"I'll be getting out here." Hawkeye darted out of the backseat to leave the
two officers cringing in anguish as they stared helplessly out their
shattered front window and at the remains of what had been, five seconds
ago, their pride and joy.

"That's the third one this month," Kobayakawa wailed. "The chief's going to
bust us to a street beat for sure."

"And I didn't even get that cute guy's number," Tsujimoto moaned long and
hard as the press began to converge on the area, happy to start
photographing the destruction and ensuing mayhem in the name of greater
ratings.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are we set up yet?!" News reporter Akemi Shutaro tapped her foot
impatiently as she waited for her idiot cameramen to finish their job and
get her on the air. She had to hurry, or else she wouldn't scoop that sleazy
tramp, Arika Miamata and Channel 4, who were no doubt already on their way
in an effort to cover this breaking story. Akemi had to beat them, just like
she had during the Hulk's reign of destruction a few months ago. She was
going to win the award for reporter of the year. She could feel it all the
way down to her toes. All she needed was a few more coups, like maybe an
exclusive interview with that reclusive Captain Japan person, or even his
raunchy sidekick, Bucky. Maybe she'd even get lucky and they would show up
to battle these super villains and she could wrangle an interview of them
after their triumph. She could just see Arika's face once it turned green
with envy.

Daydreams of award nominations were set aside as one of the cameramen gave a
triumphant cry of joy. "It's ready. We're on in three, two." He silently
mouthed the final "One."

Akemi screwed on her brightest smile for the masses watching at home. "Good
evening. This is Akemi Shutaro of Channel 6 bringing you this late breaking
story. Tokyo Airport has come under assault by forces of a super-powered
nature. Originally authorities acted on a tip about terrorists trying to
smuggle a bio-weapon into the country. But upon trying to recover the item,
these brave men and women discovered the container of evil was protected by
people unknown, with powers unknown. But judging from the sounds of carnage
coming from within, it's going to take a full-powered assault to bring these
super-powered perpetrators of evil down."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Between the heat and the dull thrum of the vice president of public
relations' voice, Kodachi Kunou was about ready to doze off in the chair
despite its inherent discomfort. She could swear the entire board of
directors of Kunou Industries was hand-picked for their ability to speak in
a monotone no matter what information they were delivering. From news they
had made billions to telling her they were near bankruptcy, their voices
never wavered, not even for a moment. Kodachi would lay good odds if any of
them were shot, their screams of pain would be in the same droning voice as
well. That she had been working on the quinjet project most of the evening
did not help matters, but the least the man could do was modulate his voice
a few octaves up or down and pretend to have interesting information.

A yawn escaped her lips as her lids grew heavy. They were about to close for
the second time in the meeting when a red light on her armrest control pad
began flashing. The pad was actually positioned below the top of the long
table and out of the line of sight of the members of the board. Subtly,
Kodachi's finger touched a button to visually display what had caught the
program's notice, but chose to leave the message silent, opting for it to
subtitle the reporter's speech, which, knowing Kodachi's luck, would
probably have been delivered in the same monotone as that of her board.

As the words flashed across the screen, Kodachi's head shot up from its
lolling position. A smile spread across her face, one that was mistaken by
the speaker, who assumed she was pleased with his report on the current
public perception polls concerning the company.

Kodachi rose from her seat. "An urgent matter which I must personally attend
to has come to my attention. Finish up and adjourn the meeting."

There were words of protest, the most animated discussion the assemblage had
made for the day, but Kodachi ignored them. Boardrooms were just another
form of imprisonment anyway, with words and pie charts serving as restraints
instead of bars. Even having to wear a chest plate felt less confining. And
when it came to wearing the all-encompassing suit of armor, it felt
downright liberating.

At long last it was time for the Iron Rose to enter the fray again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Akane fretted nervously as she tried hard not to listen to what was going on
in Doctor Tofu's backroom, which was difficult since a glass had somehow
ended up in her hand and was now placed against the closed door. She wasn't
eavesdropping, not really. She was just looking out for her employer's
welfare, which was what attentive nurses did. Tofu had been acting strangely
ever since that bizarre incident where the addition to the office had been
completely destroyed by two super villains that had been apprehended by the
authorities a few weeks ago. Luckily, the doctor was insured by Damage
Control Inc., who specialized in covering cases of destruction by
super-powered beings. There was still some question as to who was actually
at fault since the villains claimed they had only taken over everyone's
minds in the district and not destroyed any housing. Their declarations were
silly, though. Akane never had her mind taken over. She would have
remembered that sort of thing.

Since that night, the doctor had been acting strangely, and not in the
'Kasumi is breathing the same air that I am so let's dance' strange, but
secretive strange. Akane's feeling was that it might have had something to
do with the destruction of the equipment he had received from his American
friend. The entire apparatus he had built ended up destroyed when the
building collapsed. Tofu had spent the better part of a week salvaging what
he could from the debris, coming up with several boxes of chemicals that had
been sheltered by falling crossbeams. But whatever it was that had been
retrieved, he was being secretive with it. No matter how persistent she was,
she couldn't get the doctor to reveal anything. Instead, when she asked, he
would behave even more nervously, as though he was trying to hide something,
which only served to fan the flames of interest further.

What had also caught her attention and was cause for greater concern was
that sometimes when the doctor was alone in the backroom, he would talk to
himself. And not just some idle pondering of questions out loud, but lengthy
and intense conversations. Occasionally it sounded like there was another
voice in the room as well, a woman's voice, but that was impossible. Akane
would know if someone had entered the room, since there was only one door
leading to it and with the way her desk was situated Akane was stationed
directly in front of it much of the day. Lately she would check before the
doctor retreated back there just to make sure no one was hiding in it
beforehand. Every time she searched, it was empty. Yet once the doctor
returned to the backroom at the end of the day and locked the door behind
him, the soft talking would begin. Akane had even gone so far as to peek
through the high window to the room once so she could see firsthand if
anyone else was present, but it was devoid of other people. It was just the
doctor mixing some chemicals and making comments here and there to no one in
particular. Once Akane thought she heard a feminine voice respond to one of
the doctor's queries, but she realized it must have been the wind or a
neighbor's radio drifting towards her ears and creating the illusion it had
come from within. The room was too small and sparsely decorated to conceal
another person.

The strange matter made her hope Tofu hadn't gone insane. But if he had,
Akane Tendou swore she would remain at his side to help nurse him back to
health any way she could.

Of course there were added stresses that would have added to the doctor
having a potential nervous breakdown, such as the arrival of his mother.
>From the moment she appeared, Mrs. Ono seemed intent on getting her youngest
son to live up to his filial obligations to settle down and raise a family.
Akane had mixed feelings about that. No one had the right to force Tofu to
marry someone, even if she was his parent (and boy, did Akane sympathize
with that predicament). On the other hand, if he was to consider settling
down with some girl, maybe one who would be graduating high school in a few
years, well, Akane certainly couldn't see any problem with that. She had
even received the Mrs. Ono mark of approval in that respect, after giving
Akane some bizarre hip test that the old woman deemed a good method of
screening prospective bridal candidates. However, Mrs. Ono lacked the
patience to wait for Akane to get older, and was insistent Tofu marry soon.
And, much to Akane's concern, for some odd reason the old woman seemed
insistent that Kasumi was the perfect match for her son. It showed how
little Mrs. Ono understood Dr. Tofu. Both he and Kasumi were nice people
when taken individually, but they went together like oil and maple syrup.
Akane knew that was a bad mix. She had tried it in Home Economics, and it
hadn't turned out well at all. Everyone that sampled the mixture had agreed
on that.

No, it would be far better for everyone concerned if Kasumi married someone
younger, like Ranma. Now there was an ideal suitor for Kasumi. Akane was
going to have to try harder to make everyone see that. Ranma was the sort to
go for older women too, since he was so physically mature already. When it
came to him emotionally, well, that was another reason he needed an older
woman; to help him become mature. Sure, Akane could do it if she felt so
inclined, and Ranma wasn't the bad sort. Not bad at all. Very handsome, and
he could be nice at times. She had seen him be so on more than one occasion,
like that time he helped rescue a puppy that had somehow ended up in a tree
it had become stuck in. While it was truly unfortunate the puppy turned out
to be rabid, Ranma had no way of knowing that when he set out to rescue it.
Afterwards, he had only grumbled about the shots for a little while, but it
was still the thought that counted. He tended to be a bit dense at times and
was as emotionally sensitive as a rock, but he was not an unpleasant person
to be around. Not bad marriage material for any girl, perhaps even herself,
if she was pressed on the matter.

No, no, no! She had to stop thinking of him like that in relation to her.
Kasumi was his ideal match and Kasumi he would marry, or Nabiki, in a pinch.
Akane already had her own interests. It would take time, that was all. Time
for Dr. Tofu to figure out that the one he was looking for was right under
his nose the whole while. None were so blind as to the things right before
their eyes, or so the old saying went.

Two words from the nearby television caught her attention and shook her of
her concerns. Akane had left it on for background noise while she filed the
doctor's patient files (which, thanks to his machine building and hiding in
the backroom, he had fallen way behind with). Now the regular programming
was interrupted due to some special report about super villains attacking an
airport and holding the authorities at bay.

Excitement filled Akane's heart. Another chance at action, another chance at
losing her disability and moving like... No, moving better than those around
her. Another chance to prove that she could be superior to everyone else
instead of the joke they treated her like, and a lame joke at that.

But there was Tofu to consider. What was he doing behind closed doors? Would
he be all right if she flew off to play hero again? What if this was the
time he went over the edge and she wasn't around? Of course, he seemed
perfectly fine all day. He had seen his patients and there were no
complaints from any them about his treatments. It was silly, since he had
been working in the backroom for over a week and nothing bad had happened.
It was not as though his sanity was on a tightrope or anything, he was just
secretive and talked to himself. The clarion call to battle filled Akane's
ears like the roaring of one's heartbeat after an intense run. She wanted to
soar through the sky again and command the thunder to do her biding as she
smote her foes with fist and hammer.

Akane knocked on the door, the fast patter of her fist giving away her
anxiousness to leave. "Dr. Tofu, all the filing's done. It's about time for
me to go. Would you be all right if I left you alone now?"

"Sure, Akane. Thanks for all the help. I'll be fine. " The voice behind the
door sounded aware and cheerful.

That settled things. "I'll hold you to that." Akane grabbed her cane and
hobbled out of the office as best as she could. There were several alleys
nearby that she could use to change. All she needed was one tap of the cane
and then it would be time to fly to the airport and kick some butt as only
the Goddess of Thunder could do.

xxxxxxxxxxx

[End part A]

Special thanks to
Gary Ee
Christopher Horton
William Morse





















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