.


-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: LC3A.txt

Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to

her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. The story below is

for entertainment purposes only, and not to be used commercially.

...Obviously.





"Learning Curve"

        Part III



by:   J. Wagner   (Mako)







Ryouga woke up to the greeting of a white tiled ceiling. Without

thinking, he spoke the inevitable, "Where the hell am I now?!"



Trying to lean to his side, he found himself restrained by what looked

to be leather straps on his arms and across his chest, keeping him

bed-bound. Smiling to himself, he flexed his muscles, expecting the

straps to rip apart like angle hair. Oddly, the restraints held, so he

increased the power behind his attempt to escape. He'd ripped though

solid steel before - how were these little leather things keeping him

down? Not one to give up, and possessed of a remarkable stubbornness,

Ryouga snarled, and increased the intensity of his struggles.



Then, the door opened.



"Up and about already, are ya' pig boy?" Ranma walked in, uninjured,

and in his typical attire, one arm behind his back.



"Ranma! What the hell are you doing here? Come to attack me while I

was out cold, eh?"



"Turnabout would be fair play, P-chan," Ranma's other hand came

forward, wielding a small water pistol, "Say please, and maybe I'll

let you go."



"Never, damn you!"



"Beg, Ryouga. Say 'please Ranma, please let me go.'"



"I've got a better idea. Why don't you go pimp yourself out to street

people? Give a little back to society for a change?"



Ranma laughed, mirthlessly, "Oh well. I guess you'll have to stew for

a little while longer, then. I hear you can survive without water for

more than a week - I believe I'd like to test that. Oh, and I'll say

'hi' to Uuchan for you, ok?"



"What? What are you talking about?!" Ryouga strained against the

restraints until his muscles threatened to tear. Ranma just chuckled

slowly, pivoted, and left, turning off the lights behind him. Darkness

swallowed up the Lost Boy, but it was hours before he finally stopped

trying to break free. Hours slowly passed and became days, tearing

away at Ryouga's eyes and mind. Sometimes, he'd hear voices - soft

voices, like a choir of angels, just out of reach and just indistinct

enough to be impossible to pin down. Sometimes, the voices would

laugh. The laughter wouldn't be directed at anything in particular, it

would simply be the hard, crass, mocking laughter of his childhood.

Impossible to tell whom it was directed at in theory, but always at

himself in practice. He'd come to hate and fear the sound, and as it

droned on, hour after hour, his only company in the dark hell to which

he was confined, Ryouga's rage boiled, as if hatred alone could reach

out and do harm to those who would mock and destroy his happiness.



When his fear began to show, that's when the boulders came.



His dreams had been devoid of them for months, but now they came

again, with greater ferocity and a vengeance born of a hundred

thousand Bakusai Tenketsu blasts, as if every ounce of rock and stone

and silica that he'd ever destroyed was coming back to take a piece of

his hide with them into oblivion. And when he lay there, broken and

bloody, his voice barely able to curse over split lips and broken jaw,

they came again for an encore performance, beating battered flesh into

the consistency of pulp, and broken bone into splinters that tore

through muscles and skin. Then, when the dreams passed, the darkness

greeted him with pangs of hunger, and a mouth so dry and parched for

lack of water that he could barely move his lips without them cracking

and leaking acid blood. His lungs refused to respond, and his arms and

legs had long since stopped trying to respond.



How long had he been here?



It felt like months.



It felt like years.



It felt like an eternity.



Then, Ranma came back and turned on the lights. He looked the same:

calm and mocking as always, and he again flaunted the little yellow

water pistol, promising release. Promising freedom. He didn't say

anything, immediately, instead opting to slowly walk around the bed

and let Ryouga wait another few seconds longer than necessary.

Finally, he spoke, "Can you understand me, P-chan? You still with us?"



Ryouga's lips couldn't move, but he managed to nod his head, ever so

slightly.



"Good. Now, just say 'please' and I'll give it to you. I'll let you be

free. Won't that be nice?"



Ryouga didn't move.



"Come on, pig boy. Say it. Say it! Is your pride really worth your

life? Your worthless, lonely, forgotten life?"



Ryouga's lips moved a millimeter, and a faint wisp of air left his

mouth, in a silent, "Yes."



"You'll change your tone soon enough, lost boy," Ranma sneered, but

paused before leaving. His hand reached over to the light switch, and

Ryouga almost... almost broke right then and there. When Ranma's hand

passed over the switch, instead of being plunged into darkness, the

lights became small suns, glaring down with seemingly limitless power.

As Ranma closed the door behind him, Ryouga screwed his eyes shut,

searching for the darkness and the shade, but the light slowly burnt

through the frail flesh of his eyelids, and as the walls themselves

seemed to glow from the heat and the light, Ryouga realized, finally,

that there was no escape. There was no shade.



Every instant of time quickly became an individual exercise in agony

so intense, so overwhelming, the shock alone would have, in a better

universe, killed him. Instead, he lived while slowly dying one layer

of skin at a time. The light sheared away his eyes, cooked his body,

and burnt away his soul. The laughter pounced on him again, like a

carrion eater, and now, truly sightless, he could almost make out the

voices. His parents, Ranma, Ukyou, Shampoo, Mousse, Akane, Nabiki,

Kasumi... one by one, they seemed to come into focus, like an endless

parade of voices just outside the door. Was that it? A party?



Then the pain was everywhere - in every crevice and recess of his

mind. Every fold and neuron, suffused with boiling, bubbling, burning

pain.  Ryouga clung to the hope, to the prayer, that eventually maybe,

just maybe, the dead could again die, and he'd finally know something,

anything, but the waves of agony that consumed him, over and over

again, like a rising tornado. He felt every organ and every tiny bit

of tissue melt into a bloody black soup around him. He could feel his

brain, now slick and molten, slouching out of his ears, and down his

face from the sockets that used to have eyes. The slightest movement,

to breathe, to twitch, became an exercise in joint rending torment.

And it kept building higher and higher until Ryouga forgot what it was

like not to be drowned in pure, damned anguish.



How was it... how was it that a skeleton could feel pain?



Then, the lights faded into a comfortable haze.



"Whew! It smells like Pork Fried Rice in here, P-chan! What a mess!"



Ranma.



"You don't have to even say it, you know. Just think it. It'll set you

free."



What was left of the man named Ryouga Hibiki quivered, like a

slaughtered animal on a skewer over a fire pit. Amazingly, even though

he was still blind, Ryouga felt tears on what was left of his cheeks

and realized he was crying as his whole body convulsed uncontrollably.

His pride was long gone. The sad truth was that he'd have done

anything - kill a thousand innocent people, twist Nabiki and Akane and

Ukyou and Shampoo and Kasumi into bloody marionettes, murder his

family... he'd have done anything to end the hurt. How long had he

been here? At one point, he'd hoped that he'd die of old age before

the pain stopped. No. His pride was the last thing on Ryouga Hibiki's

mind.



Ranma seemed very pleased, "I'm glad you came around, P-chan."



The feeling of water cascading over his body was like a gift from the

heavens. It brought an end to suffering, a release from prison... and

the loss of his human body. But, right now, that was such a small

price to pay. Unsteady on his hooves, Buta-Ryouga blinked, and found

that he could see. Ranma towered over him like a monolith, eyes

glowing. Slowly, his lips parted into a mouthful of blades, like a

shark's dream, "I'm so glad you failed."



And then, Ryouga realized he'd well and truly lost the only thing he

still had.



His Humanity.



He'd lost in the end, just like he always did.



***



"NOO!!!!!!" something snapped as his voice barely made it past his

lips, and out of the haze of his vision, Ryouga saw his hand - but not

bone with scraps of flesh, not the hoof of a damned animal, but a

normal human hand, rough and calloused. And it was shaking, almost

uncontrollably. Suddenly very cold, Ryouga looked around him. It was a

white room, a hospital room, like before, except a little larger. An

instant of panic came and passed in a heartbeat, when Ryouga noticed

the broken leather strap that had been holding down his right arm. He

felt sore, and weak, and ...low. Lower than he'd felt in what seemed

like a lifetime.



Rolling over, away from the door, looking for the rays of light that

seemed to be coming in through a window, he saw a table, and a mass of

brown hair. Blinking a few times to get the haze out of his vision, he

recognized the person lying, asleep, at the desk. Pulling himself up,

he reached out and pulled at her dress, his voice still hesitant to

leave his throat, but trying none-the-less, "Hey. Nabiki. Wake up."



She stirred slowly, and went back to sleep.



Ryouga took a deep breath and spoke a little more loudly and clearly,

"Look! A thousand yen!"



"What? Where?!" Nabiki was instantly alert and looking around

frantically.



"Geez," Ryouga coughed to get her attention.



She faced him, and gasped, "You're awake!"



Ryouga looked back and forth, as if unsure, "I think I am, yeah. What

happened? Where the hell am I?"



She smiled a bit, "This is the University of Tokyo Hospital."



"I hate hospitals," he replied, plainly, and moved to stand up.

Nabiki, however, intercepted him and pushed him back with both hands,

stopping his forward momentum.



"Oh no you don't," she pushed again, on his good shoulder, and he

allowed himself to lie back down while propped up with an elbow,

"Besides, you've already paid for all this stuff off your family's

health insurance. I had no idea it was so comprehensive."



"For my lifestyle?" Ryouga dismissed it, "It doesn't even cover being

buried alive under tons of rock."



An inquisitive Tendo eyebrow rose at that, but she sat on the edge of

the bed to preclude any more attempted escapes. He still had an

intravenous feed into his left arm, and his features were still

somewhat pale. Then again, he had lost a lot of blood, especially from

the hole that had torn through his trachea and almost flooded his

lungs. Had it healed already? Ranma had mentioned, when he saw that

Ryouga was in a coma, that he was 'just healing.' Nabiki had almost

slapped him across the face then and there. Saotome had only taken a

few days to heal most of his wounds, but at that time he'd still been

bandaged up, and his arm in a somewhat unnecessary splint, so she held

back. If a small flicker of concern had ever been in Ranma's eyes, he

hid it like a master.



He'd taken the 'opportunity' to train even harder than before, this

time with Master Happosai, and both his Fathers, almost non-stop.

Meanwhile, his rival had languished in the hospital, deep in the

deepest of sleep. His recovery had, indeed, been hailed as a medical

mystery, and Dr. Tofu had arrived the day after to see things for

himself, claiming (erroneously) to be the family doctor at her

request. Shampoo and Ukyou had followed, the former somewhat reserved

and angry, and the latter holding back tears and hiding behind a macho

facade. They both brought flowers, as had almost everyone, but both

girls also worked every day, so Nabiki decided she could most easily

make the trip to the Hospital and check up on the Lost Boy. They

hadn't even been able to contact his parents, because no one knew even

if any of them had access to a phone in the first place.



That, and in a way, she blamed herself. She'd let Ranma play at being

Yoiko Hibiki, the lost boy's little sister, because it was kind of

funny. And it had been, up to and until Ryouga found out, attacked

Ranma-chan, and ended up getting mowed down by police who probably

thought he was a rapist or something. It was damn fortunate that Akane

had acted when she did, and tackled both police officers, or they

probably would have kept firing until Ryouga was nothing but a corpse

stumbling around on legs that refused to give out beneath him. If she

had just exposed Ranma right off the bat, or malleted him, or had

Ryouga just throw him out then and there, none of this would have

happened. It was a guilt she wasn't accustomed to and a helplessness

she hadn't felt since her mother had been in this same hospital, years

ago, dying of breast cancer.



"So," she looked at the beginning of bandages slung across his left

shoulder, covering the wound there, and onto his chest, "How do you

feel, Hibiki?"



"Like I've been shot seven times, Tendo," he shook his head a bit, a

little amused, "It still hurts a little. But I'll be good to fight in

a day or two."



"Not going to let almost dying keep you down, huh?"



"I won't lie about it... this one was pretty bad," his eyes seemed far

off for a second, but they refocused quickly on the here and now,

"Wait. The bullets aren't still... inside me, are they?"



"Nope," Nabiki reached over to the table, and handed him a small vial

with seven crumpled little metal objects inside. Ryouga took the vial,

carefully, and turned it in his hand, slowly examining every one of

the spent bullets like it was a jewel, unique in the entire universe.

In a weird way, Nabiki supposed, they were. Each was slightly

different from the others, because of its impact on different parts of

his body, and the damage each had done to him. When they brought him

in, they weren't expecting him to live. Now, less than a week later,

he was almost normal.



Almost up to fighting par. Ranma was training like his life depended

on it, but they all knew he had a long way to go before he was ready

for the final duel between the two of them. But, watching him, Nabiki

realized how paltry and wasteful it all was. Everything. The duel, the

bread feud, the P-chan debacle, the teasing, the betting... it was all

so short sighted and stupid. Yet, at the same time, it was their drive

and their focus. Ryouga had nothing else to cling to but his rivalry

with and his hatred of Ranma, and the pig-tailed boy's pride wouldn't

let him accept any kind of loss in the field of Martial Arts. One

man's desperation, and another man's pride, building and building like

a house of cards before the inevitable collapse - would one of them

lie dead when everything was said and done?



"I recognize this one," Ryouga spoke up, and pointed to one of the

bullets, the second from the top, "Grazed my heart. I could feel it.

And this one... my neck..."



Nabiki quickly took the vial from his open palm, and put it back down

on the desk, next to her homework, "Don't worry about that, ok? Just

concentrate on getting better."



Ryouga leaned back, and looked up at the ceiling, "I hate this place."



"Give it a chance, Ryouga-kun. The food's pretty good," she didn't

lie. It wasn't that bad, and maybe after she gave her a call, Kasumi

might bring something over to further convince him to stay in bed for

another few days. She also made a mental note to make sure Akane

didn't bring ANYTHING that could be hidden on her person under the

guise of being 'food.'



"Was it the drugs?" Ryouga whispered to himself. That dream had been

so real. He could still feel the pain, and hear the voices, and see

the nothingness...



"You'll be happy to know that no one's pressing charges," Nabiki

continued, not hearing what he had just said. Seeing that he wasn't

quite paying attention, she nudged his leg, and he looked at her.



"Huh?"



"No one's pressing charges. Seeing as you survived, the police don't

like to think about the prospect of being sued, especially since Ranma

said it was a 'duel' between two martial artists," Nabiki didn't quite

like the look that the mention of Ranma Saotome got from him. Ranma,

however, had been more than eager to brush off any charges, both

because it was mostly his fault, because he wanted to fight Ryouga

again sometime in the future, and something about the 'martial

artist's code.'



"Good," Ryouga left it at that.



Taking notice of his discomfort at being beholden to Ranma for

anything, Nabiki got up, "I better go and make some calls. Shampoo and

Ukyou should be happy you're up and about again."



As she headed towards the door, Ryouga suddenly bolted upright,

"Wait!"



Nabiki paused, surprised, her hand near the doorknob.



"I mean... I don't think I could quite take Shampoo glomping me right

now," he undid a clenched fist, "How about I, um... help you with your

homework?"



Nabiki seemed to waver, but walked over, a half smile on her lips,

"Ok. Sure. I haven't gotten much of it done anyway."



"Great," Ryouga relaxed noticeably, and let out a deep sigh as he went

back to lying on his back on the bed. He could feel his strength

returning, little by little, even as Nabiki read off her English

assignment, and listened as he off handedly corrected the occasional

mispronunciation or grammatical error. Inwardly, he was torn between

making his escape sometime at night, when he was more confident that

his speed and strength would be close to normal, or staying in this

place a day or two longer. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said

that he hated hospitals. While he was more than accustomed to being

alone for months at a time, it was always worse being alone in a

crowd. The impersonality of hospitals, coupled with the sterile,

standoffish atmosphere, and the unnatural surroundings and sounds made

him uncontrollably jumpy, like when he'd first struck out (gotten

lost) on his own, back when he was six, and the police had tried to

take him to an orphanage. It had been a terrible experience in a life

full of terrible experiences, but at least then they hadn't shot at

him.



And, he was loath to admit it; he didn't want to be alone in here.

He'd panicked when Nabiki had been about to leave, and in his mind's

eye, about to turn off the light, plunging him into darkness. It was a

strange sensation, the fear, and one he hadn't known in a long time.

True, there had always been the fear of insecurity, of fitting in, of

being accepted, which were all warranted... but fear of something so

abstract and childish as being alone, or in the dark, was a totally

alien and foreign concept. He'd had to get over those sort of things

when he was knee-high. It was then that he resolved himself - Ryouga

Hibiki had to stay here, if for no other purpose than to conquer and

crush this small handicap. Then, and only then, would he allow himself

to get lost for a week or two, deep in the wilderness, where his heart

had always been free to roam. Yes, the wilderness it was. One that was

far away from childish, jealous, thoughtless rivals, and city noises

and machines.



Or would that just be running away again?



More cowardice.



Afraid of people.



Afraid of women.



Afraid of rejection.



Afraid of water.



Afraid of being alone... forever...



"Damn it all," he hissed under his breath.



***



To quote the old adage that great age begets great patience was to

ignore the example that was Happosai. And, while the founder of

Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu prided himself on his perceptive, and

voyeuristic, abilities, he was not one to wait long for thing he

wanted, be they panties, jewels, magical artifacts, or simple answers.

Things were growing more and more intense, he'd heard, between Ranma

and another boy named Hibiki, of whom Happosai had never seen. Ranma

was also, he noted, getting more persistent in his attacks on the old

master, repeatedly goading him into unleashing his all-powerful final

attack, the one he had sealed away for years and subsequently

forgotten about. The first couple of times, Happosai dismissed it,

simply content to observe how the last week and a half's hard training

had brought the boy to new peaks of speed, strength, and technique.



Then, Happosai found Ranma practicing the dread Happo Dai Karin.



Silent like a ghost, the old master watched as the pride and joy, the

future of his school, reached behind him, concentrated until

perspiration dripped from his brow, and drew forth the Happo Dai

Karin. It was a small one, true, and the effort he had put into

retrieving it was phenomenon, but the simple fact that the boy had

picked up on the operation of an advanced technique like the Final

Attack almost left Happosai speechless. Had the boy only respect for

his elders, he'd be a true disciple of Anything Goes, and a true

credit to his Master and his Art.



He sat, in the shadows, and watched as Soun and Genma entered the

dojo, warmed up, and helped their future heir train. Soun was hard

pressed to keep up with the two Saotomes, and his style was rusty and

neglected. While Genma, his old rival, was only slightly below the

peak he had been at when he was half his age, the elder Saotome

remained a force to be reckoned with. His endurance was formidable,

his already impressive strength and speed tempered by years of

experience, and like in their youth, the two men attacked as a

seamless unit, each covering the movements and weaknesses of the

other. Ranma received them with aplomb, though already partially worn

out from drawing the power of the Happo Dai Karin, and fought them

both to a standstill. As his two elders moved around for another

charge, Ranma's arms became near blurs, even to the trained senses of

Happosai, warding off every attack, while moving around the two older

warriors with dancer's grace.



And when Genma and Soun moved to retire, Ranma asked the same thing he

asked everyday, but only once, "You're holding something back, old

man."



Genma dismissed the charges with a shrug, and went off about his own

business. Ranma stayed, and did katas and motions, before heading out

to the yard for his strength training, and a personal review of what

he'd done earlier in the day. The dedication and the passion to which

he applied himself were truly impressive. However, growing quickly

bored, Happosai left the boy to his own devices, and went to tend to

his silky 'collection.' If Ranma asked, nicely, perhaps he would deign

to share the secrets of true power. If not... there were others with

great potential in Nerima. Besides, Happosai looked at the final

ingredients he had managed to bring together in lieu of tonight's

raiding, he had to be prepared himself for the New Year.



 Ranma hit the dummy, knuckle on, causing the stiff wood to shake as

if wounded and in pain. A single black and yellow irregularly colored

bandanna shook with it, barely holding onto where it had been tied.

Ranma struck again and again, in measured degrees, carefully

regulating the power and speed of his blows. The old men were forcing

him to attend school tomorrow - they, like everyone else, didn't

understand. Kasumi had her household duties, and Nabiki had her

schemes and dealings. Akane had her schoolwork, which she somehow

seemed to enjoy, Soun had his dojo and his plans, and his father had

his retirement to enjoy, even with that stupid job he held down at Dr.

Tofu's. Certainly, no one at school could understand or appreciate the

situation.



He had lost.



Why didn't they understand that everything else was secondary?



Ryouga's words from a week ago still rung in his mind: haunting him

when he slept. He had been toyed with on that first encounter, tested

for what little 'progress' he'd managed to eek into his fighting

ability in between the useless triad of school, fiancees, and general

bouts of laziness. He almost laughed when he thought about it. While

he was relaxing in the furo, Ryouga was trudging through some forsaken

wasteland somewhere. While he was dodging Shampoo, or trying to

convince Akane not to mallet him over the head for some reason or

another, Ryouga was perfecting his special techniques. Who knew now

what he was truly capable of? While he was studying, being bored

nearly to tears in classes, Ryouga was broadening the distance in

speed and power between them. And now, because of the worthless

intervention of this life they had picked out for him, forced down his

throat, he had been humiliated not once, but twice.



The dummy snapped in half, as Ranma's fist tore through it like a hot

knife through butter. Annoyed, he stopped and picked up the upper

torso of the training dummy, with the scuffed old bandanna, retrieved

from their battle two weeks ago, and stared at it. It was an effigy,

and a warning - 'Ryouga Hibiki, I will break you.' Their last

encounter, however, was as fresh in his mind as if it had been just

five minutes ago. The raw power the Lost Boy was able to summon around

him. His own ki was like a flickering candle caught in an inferno. A

blanketing forest fire seemed to dance around Ryouga, as a mysterious

heaviness seemed to build and push to their knees any who would dare

stand in defiance before such a display.



A monster.



A monster with the strength of a hundred men, and more: a monster with

speed that defied imagination, even in comparison to Ranma's own swift

female form. A monster with attacks so precise; motions so economical,

power so unstoppable... what set of circumstances could drive a boy to

become such a creature? When his unknown ability in terms of special

techniques was factored in, Ranma couldn't help bit shiver in some

small measure of apprehension. And it was that glimmer of fear, and

depression, that Ranma could never forgive his rival for. If he

couldn't win... if he couldn't defeat the Lost Boy, then he had

nothing, and he knew it. If he failed, here, then an entire lifetime,

and single life, his own, would be meaningless and void.



If Ranma Saotome couldn't win, than what good was he?



With a feral snarl, Ranma backhanded the upper torso of the practice

dummy, reducing it to so much straw and broken wood. Discarding the

remains, Ranma resolved himself to turn in for the night, where

perhaps more secrets of the Saotome School would be found amid his

father's, or Happosai's, piles of junk. And if not, then perhaps more

insight would be found in dreams. Regardless, one thing was certain:

if a choice had to be made between Ranma Saotome or Ryouga Hibiki, the

former had to be the last one standing.



No matter the cost.



***



"So, where's Shampoo?"



Mousse shrugged, "Off doing errands for the old ghoul. She says she'll

visit tomorrow."



"Oh," Ukyou closed her restaurant, locking it securely, before

adjusting her bandolier and uniform to make sure she appeared male to

most.



"You look fine, Kounji," Mousse quickly grew tired of seeing her

fidget, "Not that everyone doesn't know already."



"What? Saotome doesn't know."



"He'll figure it out sooner or later, even with those bindings. And

you should strap those on diagonally, not horizontally. It'd free up

more room for... you know, weapons and stuff."



"You have a real two track mind, Mousse. Sharp objects and Shampoo,"

Ukyou double-checked to make sure her megaspatula was tightly in

place, and adjusted her stance a bit, "Quick route?"



Mousse nodded, and the two jumped up and onto a neighboring rooftop,

"And, for your information, Kuonji, I think of plenty of other things

besides Shampoo and Weapons."



"Like what?" Ukyou retorted quickly, as the pair jumped again.



"Lots of things!"



"Name two. Just two."



Mousse hesitated a bit, "Um... sports. And current events."



"Yeah right," Ukyou rolled her eyes, "Watch it! Chimney!"



"I see it," Mousse quickly lowered his glasses, and avoided the brick

chimney at the last second, twisting in midair.



"You should really just keep your glasses on, you know," Ukyou braced

her landing, barely disturbing the tiled roof at her feet.



"They're always slipping off. And they make me look..." Mousse trailed

off.



"Blind?"



He nodded.



"Better to look blind than stupid."



"Like you'd know," Mousse grumbled, and the pair jumped again to

another roof.



"What's that supposed to mean?"



"You have perfect eyesight. Everyone else does. Even Hibiki, despite

his other problems, can see clearly. You can't imagine what its like

to wake up in the morning and have to flail about for your glasses

just to see the time."



"Yeah, I just had to wake up and hide my femininity from the world,"

Ukyou meant to sound sarcastic, but Mousse didn't seem to catch it.



Instead, he chuckled softly.



"Hey! What's so funny, jackass?!" Ukyou reached for her megaspatula.

Even if they were in midair, she could still clip him upside the head.



"Cross dressing is a capital crime where I come from," Mousse held out

his arms slightly, slowing his decent, "Though I think they're more

worried about a male posing as a female rather than the other way

around."



"I should send Tsubasa their way," Ukyou snickered to herself.



Mousse didn't get it, "What is ...a Tsubasa?"



"Tsubasa is this cross dressing weirdo I knew from junior high. Not

important - just a pain in the ass," Ukyou stopped and looked around,

"Where is this place?"



"You're asking me?" Mousse adjusted his glasses a bit, "I've never

been around here before."



"Wonderful. Just wonderful," Ukyou squinted, trying to make out

exactly where they were, "We're lost. I can't believe this."



"Calm down. Its not like we're Hibikis."



"Yeah. Just blind and leading the blind," Ukyou quipped.



"My, aren't we sassy tonight? Well, thank goodness for me, I suppose,"

Mousse reached into the folds of his sleeves, and pulled out a small

water bottle. Unloading it over his head, he instantly shrunk down to

duck-sized.



"What on earth are you doing?" Ukyou put her hands on her hips as the

now avian Mousse took to the air, quacking in a language known only to

him. If it was a response to her question, he might as well have said

nothing at all. Luckily, he had taken his glasses with him, even if

they did take on a somewhat swirled, vacant look. As he quickly

disappeared against the dark starlit sky, Ukyou looked down and saw

his clothes strewn around, along with more than a few sharp looking

weapons.



Looking up again, and not seeing him around, Ukyou took a tentative

look in one of the sleeves, pulling out a long spear. Holding it

appraisingly, she checked to see if it was collapsible, but eventually

came to the conclusion that it was just as it appeared: a plain wooden

shaft. There was also a pair of long swords present, poking out from

under s length of chain attached to a gauntlet. A little deeper into

the sleeve, she found a small pocket stuffed with knives, only their

hilts exposed, and some of the Claw weapons he'd used on occasion in

lieu of Mandarin Duck Axes. She also found also a couple yoyos, each

one with a different color, next to what looked like a comical pink

stuffed pig.



"A hidden weapon, no doubt," Ukyou make sure to avoid the pig, and

slowly pulled out a long staff with a duck on the end and a hole on

top. A close examination proved it to be a new 'Fist of the White

Swan' weapon. Either that, or it was a spare, seeing as he hadn't used

the technique since Ryouga smashed the last one. Oddly, there was what

looked like a vial of liquid inside, taped securely to the bottom of

the potty. Dismissing it, she put the weapon close to back in place;

she finally came to a pile of assorted shuriken. Taking one, she

tested the weight and balance of it in comparison to one of her own

throwing spatulas. Silently, she wondered just where he got the money

for such high quality weapons in Japan or whether he had some enormous

cache of them sitting around somewhere, and if so, how did he smuggle

them into the country?



Mousse was still an enigma to her.



To everyone, really.



He's been in Nerima for months now, to her knowledge, and no one

really knew anything about him aside from seeing him working at the

Nekohanten and occasionally chasing after Shampoo. He had mentioned a

job with a traveling circus at one point. There's been something of a

fight with Ranma, and Shampoo got involved, but he wasn't especially

talkative about it. No one his age seemed familiar with him in Nerima

- most didn't even know who she was talking about until she mentioned

where he worked and what he looked like. Some of the girls at school

thought he was cute, though his Shampoo obsession and status as a

Nerima Martial Artist intimidated them, and not without merit. The

local insane martial artist community as a whole, up to and including

Kuno, tended not to get involved with the more 'normal' people of

Nerima. It wasn't so much by design; it was just that they tended to

prefer the company of those who understood them better. They

outperformed virtually everyone physically, and there was an unspoken

level of tension and even intimidation Ukyou was aware of when she

walked around school. Other girls, and even many boys, would give her

a wide berth when she went about going to classes or whatever, whether

she wanted it or not, never mind that she was dressed as a boy at the

time.



The phenomenon was even more pronounced around Ranma and Kuno. It was

due, in her opinion, in Ranma's case, because of his cockiness and

boldness when talking to or working with others, and his love of

showing off. Kuno simply had a sadistic streak coupled with a

perverted streak that even scared the teachers - she'd actually seen

Kuno threaten them with his bokken to the point of giving in to his

every and any demand. He was rich as hell, too, which didn't help

matters. No matter. Kuno wasn't important anyway, but Ukyou suspected

Ranma noticed the phenomenon despite his social ineptness, but she

wasn't as sure whether he knew about the whispering behind their

backs, always just out of earshot.



They had power that regular student's didn't. Additionally, Ukyou had

been in school at lot longer than either Ranma or Ryouga - this had

been happening to her ever since she first started to 'break the

rules' as she liked to call it. Around puberty, it seemed like her

training had started to pay off far more easily and more thoroughly

than she, or her father, ever imagined. It had been then when she

first started to tap into her ki. The power rush was incredible,

almost orgasmic in its intensity the first few times before she had

gotten used to it, but at the same time her feats of speed, strength

and prowess had begun to ...unnerve those around her. Former friends

would avoid her, and some were outright afraid to associate with

someone who could just DO so much more than they could. As they found

less and less in common, they drifted apart, and as a consequence,

Ukyou found less and less to distract her from her martial arts

training and the lifestyle her body and her abilities had seemed to

lay out for her.



And, in a disturbing way, she found she couldn't stop.



She couldn't stop training. She couldn't stop dipping into the

seemingly endless well of ki, letting the energy flow into her veins,

crawl up her spine, and saturate her brain. It was almost like a drug.

The more she trained, and the more powerful she became, she more she

needed to improve to feel the ki. It used to be so easy when she was a

young girl, and she had first discovered it. Now, channeling that

level of ki felt... numb. It felt like nothing. It felt normal, and

normal was quickly becoming inadequate. It was a potentially very bad

situation, and a possible problem that Ryouga, as far as she knew,

didn't see. She'd mentioned it to Shampoo, but the Chinese girl had

just shrugged in a sort of half-understanding way, and gone onto

another topic.



Then again, there weren't any normal Amazons anyway.



A loud quack interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up in time to

see Mousse dive down and pull up just quickly enough to land on his

webbed feet. The roof tiles were obviously cold, and he didn't seem to

enjoy the prospect of walking around barefoot on it. He quacked again,

and looked from his clothes to her. When she just stared back, waiting

for him to do something, he quacked a few more times, vainly. Finally,

Ukyou just sighed and picked him up, "Mousse, I have no damn clue what

your saying. You need to learn Morse code or something."



Mousse shifted a bit in the crook of her arm, and seemed to give that

idea some thought. She sighed again and gathered up Mousse' clothing

and weapons, "What should I do with this, huh? Someone will probably

take it, you know, if..."



"Quack."



"Mousse, I already told you...!"



"Quack! Wack," he seemed to shrug, in an unusual avian way that

ruffled up his feathers a bit.



"Alright," she guessed he meant to leave them there, and looked around

at the darkening city, "Which way?"



Mousse-duck pointed his bill in an arbitrary direction. Ukyou

hesitated a few seconds to see for herself, before jumping and heading

that way via rooftop. As she did, without thinking she tightened her

grip on Mousse, and held him close to keep the wind from blowing him

out of her arm. He quacked again, in protest, and when she landed

Ukyou realized she'd squeezed him a little tight. Ducks, like almost

all birds had hollow bones, she remembered - making Mousse-duck fairly

fragile when compared to Ryouga's pig form, which was, really, all

muscle, bone and cartilage, leading to a surprisingly tough little

piglet, Bakusai Tenketsu conditioning aside.



He looked up at her, and started evening out his feathers self-

consciously.



"Sorry 'bout that, Mu-chan," she laughed softly when he got a little

flustered and uncomfortable. He quacked in protest a few times, but

clammed up after a few more jumps, when Ukyou finally saw the lights

of silhouette of what looked like the University of Tokyo Hospital.

They went through receptions with minimal fuss, considering one of

them was armed with a massive cooking utensil, and the other was a

waterfowl. Luckily, they were on the List, and Nabiki had warned the

necessary doctors and staff that any visitors from Nerima were likely

to be a bit ...eccentric, especially if they were of the Martial

Artist variety.



A glass of warm water later, and Mu-chan became Mousse. Ukyou

ostensibly looked away, but couldn't help seeing how the male Amazon

somehow transformed with his clothes on. To her amazement, when the

triggered metamorphosis began, Mousse's clothes just... appeared, as

if it had always been there. Unfortunately, his clothes were also wet

in spots, and dripping onto the floor, as he stood up.



"Argh," he grumbled, squeezing some water out of his still damp left

sleeve, "Next time - we take a taxi."



"Quit being such a baby, Mu-chan."



"Che. Don't call me that."



"Why? Ryouga has P-chan for his pig form."



"You wouldn't call him that, though, especially in front of other

people," Mousse secured his glasses on his forehead, leaving his piss-

poor eyes bare to lead him around. Ukyou figured it was probably all

the people around them.



"No. So I'll just call you that in private. Who knows? Maybe it'll

make Shamps jealous."



"REALLY?!" Mousse grew a goofy grin and started laughing nervously. In

his imagination, he could see Shampoo fuming over Ukyou, maybe gently

knocking her out, and carting him away into a life of marital bliss.

Oh, to feel the passionate embrace of his beloved after all these long

years! They'd have an old fashioned Joketsuzoku wedding, maybe... The

sudden interruption of metal on skull ended the fantasy in a

heartbeat. Mousse blinked, and noticed that everyone was looking at

him.



"Jackass," Ukyou shook her head a little and put the battle spatula

back into its holster.



"Violent macho chick," Mousse grumbled softly, rubbing the point-of-

impact behind his head. They walked in relative silence to the

elevator, where another person was waiting to go to the same floor. As

they ascended slowly, he pulled down his glasses and got a look at

what the nurse was holding. It looked like some kind of medical

report, but the writing was barely legible.



Looking up, he saw Ukyou waiting less than patiently for them to get

to the sixth floor. She had her arms crossed, and eyes closed. Her

long hair, tied up into a ponytail that hung just over her left

shoulder. She looked... Then it hit him. She'd make a good Joketsuzoku

- an appropriate Amazon. She was easily powerful enough to defeat

anyone her age in the village... except maybe Shampoo, now. He'd seen

the two girls spar, on occasion, but never actually fight, despite

their silent rivalry for Best non-Ranma Female Martial Artist in the

area. He suspected it that if they ever really did go at each other it

would be quite the duel.



She was nice, too.



Sixth floor finally came, and Mousse quickly opted for simply keeping

his glasses on as they headed for the right room. He was more than a

little surprised when he saw Ryouga Hibiki up and about. There was

another doctor in the room, a breaded man, who seemed to be writing

things into a notebook of some sort. Ryouga gave them a little wave,

and walked over as Ukyou closed the door behind them, "Hi, guys! I was

wondering when you'd drop by."



"Better late than never," she ribbed him. Ryouga didn't seem to mind

it, when it came from her.



"Too true," he settled for, then faced the bearded man, "Here, Doc.

Two of the people I mentioned. Ukyou Kuonji and Mu Tzu. They can do it

too."



"What?" Mousse asked, right off the bat. He hated being kept in the

dark, never mind his vision keeping him perpetually paranoid.



"Ki. Doctor Fukudome here is studying the phenomenon for medical

purposes or something," Ryouga shrugged, "He even knows Doctor Tofu."



"Oh. Nice to meet you," Ukyou held out her hand, and the Doctor took

it with only a moment's hesitation.



"Same here," Mousse kept his hands in his sleeves, but gave a quick

bow.



With the pleasantries over, the Doctor smiled and reached into his

bag, taking out a small black ball, "This is a strength measuring

device, Hibiki-san. Just squeeze it, and it will record the pressure

you exert on it and the muscle fatigue that occurs over time."



"Ok," Ryouga took it, and tested its weight, "Hey, Mousse. Wanna test

it for me?"



Mousse shrugged, and caught the little ball with his right hand. It

felt vaguely like a 'stress ball,' like the one he had accidentally

crushed into paste a few weeks ago after a particularly harsh

rejection from his beloved Shampoo, but this device was far less

compressible. It felt solid enough, and as Mousse increased the

pressure, a small pad of some sort in the Doctor's hands started

displaying numbers. The doctor's eyes widened a bit, "Just keep

squeezing for another few seconds."



Mousse did, concentrating on holding his grip at peak levels, and then

let go. The little black ball quickly returned to its normal size and

shape, "Tough little thing."



"Um... Mousse-san. You peaked a little over five thousand psi."



"Is that... good?"



"Very. Its strong enough to crush rocks."



"Oh. Why not just say so?"



Ukyou took the little black ball, and eyed it carefully, "My turn."



The okonomiaki chef knew she was physically inferior when compared to

Shampoo, and probably Mousse, too, but she was far from weak. And

despite dressing like a boy; she still had a feminist streak, and felt

a small obligation to represent female martial artists here, lest the

good doctor get any politically incorrect ideas. Seeing Doctor

Fukudome reset his datapad, and after a silent nod, Ukyou gritted her

teeth, and squeezed. Slowly at first, then in a great wave, she

concentrated her ki into her arm and hand. After a few seconds, her

initial power faded, as fatigue set in.



"Almost the same," Doctor Fukudome wrote something down on the side of

his notebook quickly, "Very impressive."



Ukyou frowned a bit, but released the ball, allowing it to return to

its normal state. She handed it over to the lost boy, though not a

little reluctantly, "Have fun."



"Alright," Ryouga looked at the black ball closely, at eye level,

before letting his fingers encircle it, almost concealing it

completely from view, "It certainly looks pretty tough."



"It is, I assure you," the doctor smiled, encouragingly.



"Is it expensive?"



"It... is of high quality manufacture," the bearded doctor reset his

recorder for new measurements.



"One. Two . Three," Ryouga began to squeeze, and the little ball

instantly deformed.



"Eight... no, ten thousand... twelve..."



Ryouga's upper lip curled, revealing a single prominent canine. His

arm started to shake, slightly, as muscles became more defined.



"Twenty... Twenty-five..." the doctor's voice was barely a whisper.

Ukyou and Mousse weren't paying much attention anyway. Both of them

could see hints of Ryouga's ki manifesting all along his arm - tiny,

barely visible crackles of electricity discharging into the air. The

moment ended, abruptly, with a loud popping sound, and the crunch of

metal. Ryouga's fist was completely closed now, and the room was

silent. Slowly, the lost boy's fingers parted, revealing the

unidentifiable smashed and broken remains of the little black ball.



"Wow," the doctor finally said, "It... its stopped around thirty

thousand psi. I... wow."



"Ouch. Hurt my hand a little bit, squeezing it like that," Ryouga

scraped the bits off on the edge of the table.



"That was pretty... incredible, Hibiki-san. I can't think of another

way to put it."



Ryouga shrugged, "When I was little, I used to crack open walnuts

between my thumb and index finger. Its good practice."



"Well," the doctor started gathering his things, "Thank you for your

time, Hibiki-san. The data I gathered will be very useful."



"No problem. If you really want to know more about ki, there's a

restaurant, called the Nekohanten, in Nerima. The old woman there is a

Master. She'd be able to show you some really impressive things, I'd

imagine. Just say that Ryouga Hibiki sent you and ask for the Seafood

Deluxe Ramen. Its second to none," Ryouga gave Ukyou a quick look,

"When it comes to noodles, anyway."



"I might do just that, as you can imagine this research could have far

reaching effects. Harnessing this power for the good of mankind could

not only benefit the healing sciences, but ...in other realms as well,

like in space, keeping muscles from growing atrophied. I'll keep you

abreast of things, in case we should schedule another meeting," Doctor

Fukudome and Ryouga bowed formally, and the older man left.



"So," Ryouga turned back to his friends, "How are things going with

you guys?"



"Good," Ukyou went up to him, a little bit of her femininity showing

now, as she checked the little piece of gauze bandaged to his neck,

"Are you alright, sugar? I saw you when... you know."



"You looked like a mess, Hibiki," Mousse just came out and said it, "A

bloody mess."



"Gee, thanks."



"You still do," Mousse shrugged, "I don't see a difference."



"Jackass," Ukyou sighed, and checked the bandage herself. There was a

small scar, barely noticeable. Letting it go, she looked him over,

finally noticing the hospital gown they had him in, "He looks

perfectly fine. Good, even."



"Ukyou!" Ryouga blushed crimson and jumped back, out of reach.



"I'm just kidding!" Ukyou took a few steps forward, and Ryouga calmed

a little. Suddenly, her face became serious, "I was worried about you,

you know. I mean, it was my stupid shirt that..."



"Forget about it," Ryouga waved it off instantly, "It was my fault for

facing down two armed police anyway."



Mousse saw Ukyou's features soften again. To say that she had been

worried was a drastic understatement. She had cried like a woman

possessed from the moment she arrived to the moment he and Shampoo had

finally dragged her back to her restaurant. Mousse had never seen a

woman cry that much... of course, Mousse had never really seen a woman

cry at all before he came to Japan, but she had been in a bad way up

to and until they finally got word that the lost boy had stabilized

and was, indeed, rapidly healing his wounds. He had felt like crying

himself, but he held it in, if only because Ranma wasn't. Shampoo had

been stoic, channeling her emotions into the Amazon standby - rage.

Akane Tendo seemed pensive, and more than a little in shock. Kasumi

looked a bit stricken, but she was well composed as always.



What had surprised him the most, though, was Nabiki Tendo, the

Mercenary of Furinkan High. When he had gotten there, her eyes had

looked red and a bit sunken, as if she had been crying at one point

herself, though she was in control of herself when they got there. It

was shortly after that, when Ranma said something to her, causing her

to stalk off angrily, that all hell broke loose. Akane yelled at

Ranma, and so did Ukyou. Ranma then made a truly dumb mistake, and

said something about Ukyou 'crying like a girl.' Of course, she

instantly attacked him, despite the pigtailed boy's injuries, or

perhaps encouraged by them to finish the job, so to speak. Shampoo and

Akane had to hold back the pigtailed idiot while he tried to disarm

the angry woman before they all got banned from the place.



"That jackass. I can't believe he DID that! Don't worry, though,"

Ukyou smiled, though it was far from friendly as she addressed Ryouga,

"Mousse and I are going to pay Saotome a little visit come New Years."



"Just be careful. He's almost certainly been training non-stop."



"Don't worry about us. Mousse's got the perfect lure to get him just

where we want him. Caught off guard, we can shift things in our

favor."



"A lure, eh? Is it... women's underwear?"



"No," Mousse rolled his eyes.



Ryouga guessed again, giving it more thought this time, "Food?"



"No!" Mousse sighed, "A piglet. The little guy looks just like your

pig form. I got him from a pig farmer in the countryside. Get this-

she raises ...Sumo Pigs."



"Sumo pigs?" Ryouga looked at the male Amazon disbelievingly, "Are you

serious?"



"Sumo. Pigs," Mousse repeated, stressing each word, "Big ones, too."



"Ugh," Ryouga recoiled in obvious distaste, "That's just... weird. Why

would anyone train pigs in Sumo? It doesn't make any sense."



"I know!"



"Maybe they're attack pigs," Ukyou interrupted, "Who knows, who cares?

The little black porker is the perfect bait in case Ranma's on his

guard."



"Its just odd," Ryouga scratched the back of his head, "Sumo Pigs?

Maybe it's some freaky eccentric martial arts animal style. Like pig

form Kung Fu."



"There's a pig-form for Kung Fu?" Ukyou looked from Ryouga to Mousse.



"How the hell would I know?!" Mousse said defensibly, "She just said

she raised Sumo Pigs and asked if I was single."



"Ohhh," Ukyou nudged him in the side, "You charmer!"



"Hey, hey Mousse! Sly!"



"It's not like that!" the Chinese boy groaned, "I told her I loved

another woman from my village, paid for the little guy, and left. This

HUGE pig, I mean elephant sized, kept staring at me. I think he wanted

to eat me, or something. The thing was a monster, I swear."



"Anyway..." Ukyou tried to steer the conversation to something with a

point, "New Years, we strike!"



"Vengeance!" Mousse shook his fist while snickering in a suitably evil

fashion.



Ryouga just big-sweated.



***



"Ayia! What little black pig doing in stupid Mousse's room? Ryouga,

you sneak out of hospital?"



"Bwee!"



"Well, come on," Shampoo turned and gestured for the pig to follow,

"Shampoo get you hot water."



The little animal sat on its haunches, and seemed to give that a few

moments' thought. Not one to wait, Shampoo quickly picked him up,

ignoring his small squeal of protest. Shampoo found this odd - it

wasn't the first time she'd picked him up in his cursed form. They'd

both been splashed more than a few times when they sparred during his

Bakusai Tenketsu training. Then again, he'd never been without his

bandanna either. Feeling a bit emboldened, and curious, she scratched

him behind the ears. To her surprise, instead of grunting in

annoyance, he moved with the hand, and seemed quite content.



"Is you feeling ok, Ryouga?" she looked him in the eyes. There seemed

to be some spark of intelligence, but no real understanding of the

words. Hurrying downstairs and into the kitchen, she started boiling a

kettle of water. The pig seemed uncomfortable in the place, but

dutifully sat down where Shampoo placed him.



While waiting for the liquid to warm up, she switched to Mandarin

Chinese, "<I've been thinking about some things. Now that you're back

and all.>"



"Bwee?"



Shampoo sat down, and the pig jumped up and onto her knee, studying

her carefully.



"<Its Ranma,>" she continued, "<I ...I don't think he'll ever marry

me. I don't think he even likes me. I've done some really stupid

things while you were gone. The thing with stupid Mousse always

attacking Ranma because of the marriage law, that Instant Nannichuan,

the Love Pills, this weird mushrooms... Don't look at me like that; I

used the magic on Ranma, not Akane. I never said I wouldn't try it on

him, just her.>"



"Bwee."



"<Good,>" Shampoo rocked back a bit in the chair, sighing, "<This

whole trip... this whole business here in Japan has been nothing but a

nightmare. Sometimes, I think you're the only friend I have in this

whole country.>"



The pig blinked and tilted his head to the side a little, "Qee?"



"<Ryouga... promise me we'll stay friends. Especially after I tell

you>," Shampoo shook her head, letting her velvet tresses flow behind

her, "<Well, great grandmother, she... I know I promised that when you

beat me, that first time we fought, that it didn't involve any of our

rules or anything, but great grandmother doesn't see things that

way.>"



The pig looked at her quizzically.



"<You know what I'm saying, right?>"



"Bwee."



"<Is that a yes or a no?>" Shampoo reached for the kettle, and put the

pig on the floor, "<You're a nice guy, and I think... I think we could

be happy. You'd like the village. Its too small to get lost in after a

few weeks, and...>"



The water hit the pig.



"<And... um... and...>"



And the pig didn't transform.



"Bwee."



"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Great grandmother!!!!!!!"



***



"Woah, check it out!"



"She beat the middleweight machine like it was nothing!"



"How'd she get so strong?"



Akane gave the crowd a little wave, and quickly reminded herself that

she wasn't indulging or impressing the crowd: she was doing this for

fun, and as a test of strength. The middleweight arm-wrestling machine

was no real challenge, true, but only she knew that. It was worth

almost anything just to see the astonished expressions on the faces of

the people around her. ...Especially the men. The ego or the male

gender had always been one of her not-so-little pet peeves, and any

opportunity to beat some of their unspoken male pride into the ground

was to be taken advantage of.



It wasn't that she hated men; she didn't.



She just didn't like them.



Rolling up her sleeve, she smirked, "Next!"



The heavyweight machine awaited her, finally. She'd beat it, almost

certainly, she knew, but this time she decided to pretend to struggle

a little. Let those in the crowd start to whisper and say that she had

'met her match.' Let them think that for a few seconds, and then,

she'd beat the machine and savor the looks on their faces and the

gasps of awe. Of admiration. Of respect. The respect she deserved, as

a martial artist, as a woman, as herself - they'd respect her, or at

the very least, fear her a little. Unlike Kuno, or Ukyou, or Shampoo,

or Ranma, or even the students of Furinkan, to these people, she'd be

something to remember, and to be inspired by. Then, of course, she'd

go home, and be overshadowed by damn near everyone, but until then...



Akane gritted her teeth. The machine was putting up more of a fight

than she expected. Pushing harder, she felt it match her easily, so

the youngest Tendo decided to end it then and there, and kicked up her

strength to its maximum. It gave for half a second, before recovering

and matching her again. Then, to her surprise and shock, it began to

push her back. She struggled, tears just starting to tinge her

peripheral vision and cool, quickly, against the winder air. She was

losing, and from behind and around, she could hear the whispers,

louder now.



Then, the inevitable happened, and she felt the back of her hand slam

against the hard wood, but, before anything could be said, the facade

of the arm wrestling machine began to crack and deform. A plume of

violet hair, and elaborate green and red, Chinese styled sweater, and

a familiar laugh heralded the entrance of a certain Chinese Amazon.

Shampoo smirked, one foot on the table, and the other lazily drooped

over her knee, while Akane panted from exertion, "You still weak,

Akane."



The youngest Tendo just growled, despite being short of breath, "I

demand a rematch!"



"You never be strong enough to beat me," Shampoo suddenly seemed to

remember something when a soft beep from her right pocket got her

attention, "Besides, no have time play with violent girl! Still have

deliveries to make."



"Shampoo...!"



>From out of nowhere, the Chinese girl produced her assault-bike and

took off, using Akane's head and back as a ramp to get on the street.

Akane turned, seething, just in time to see Shampoo give her a little

salute, "I win last battle of year! Ha!"



 Ranma's kata was interrupted, again, when Kasumi walked in, "Ranma-

kun, would you please go look for Akane? I don't want her to miss

dinner."



"I'm sure she's fine," Ranma let his next movement carry him into a

different kata, one of the new ones he'd taken a liking to. He didn't

like saying no to Kasumi; the girl was like his older sister, or

something, or even his mother, but she didn't understand him, or his

training. It would be a waste of his time to go looking for Akane - no

one had tried to kidnap her since Mousse, months ago, and even then,

Mousse had only thought he'd kidnapped her. If she wanted to wander

around, it really wasn't his business to stop her. She'd probably just

mallet him or something for his troubles anyway.



He heard Kasumi sigh, and leave, but largely ignored it. He wasn't

anyone's keeper, even if that person did sort of grow on you after a

long enough period of time. That thought lingered for only a moment

before it, too, was gone, replaced by the movement and flow of the

well-practiced kata. His focus sharpened, and turned inward, and he

could feel his ki flowing through every vein, and in and out of every

pore. He was like a living ocean of energy, and his movements were

like a tide, and every minute, every hour, made him a little bit more

comfortable and proficient in accessing and allocating his ki into his

body. A little more, into the arms, not an even distribution, but

degrees of difference, mentally calculated through intense hours of

knowing one's body on a plane beyond physical.



It was this silent barrier that separated him from the mundane masses

of mankind.



His schoolmates, and his quasi-friends and acquaintances there could

never understand the oneness and fulfillment of purpose and form he

had become. Their words, their movements, their thoughts... so slow

and awkward and wasteful. They could no more understand him, or

compare themselves to him, than a puddle of rainwater could the

Pacific Ocean. He was Ranma Saotome. They... were not. An

oversimplification, true, but it was close enough to be accurate.

Ranma moved, and thought, and focused, and around him the world faded.

Time seemed timeless, space seemed space less, and every thought

magnified as if through a kaleidoscope.



Then, he felt it.



The distant, and yet always at hand, pull of the Abyss from which all

power was drawn. He could feel, amid his thoughts, and deep in his

physical body, from a point with no true physical reference, the

horizon of the well. Or the black hole, perhaps. It drew him in with

promises of warmth and power. It was the great tempter, power, and he

had to fight to keep control of where he stood, between the abyss, and

the fall. He drew more, just a little than before, without falling

into the trap of taking in more than he could handle. Too little, and

his exercises and training would be wasted... his life, would be

wasted, but too much, and he could burn himself out, like a wicker

candle caught in a forest fire.



Some had a natural ability to channel, control, and manipulate their

ki, and could dip further into the well with each attempt, eventually

outstripping those less fortunate. He felt himself questioning his

ability, and his bravery - was this temptation, or a product of

logical thought? Was it both? He wanted more, and he was confident he

could draw more, safely, but the bridge of his nose burnt, as if

smelling sulfur. A warning, perhaps, or was it an outside factor? He

finally pulled back, after what seemed like hours of standing at the

edge.



Ranma blinked, and he was in the dojo.



Akane was looking at him.



"What?" he asked, checking himself. He seemed fine, though breathing

heavily, and he was in his male body.



"Nothing," Akane suddenly got self conscious, and adjusted the lack

belt around her waist that hugged her white gi to her body, "Want to

spar?"



"Why now?"



"The same reason you're here. I just want to get better."



"Yeah. Sure. Why not?" he shrugged.



She attacked, as she always did, opening up with a powerful jab that,

had it connected, would have had enough force to easily shatter a

block of concrete, but at this point, he'd have brushed it off like it

was nothing. Akane continued, in her usual style, which was better

suited to multiple attackers, and not as effective in a dueling

scenario. He dodged, blurring here and there, as she pressed the

assault. Akane Tendo was good, do doubt, but she wasn't anywhere near

his league, and almost certainly never would be. It was a pity,

really. He'd have liked someone who came closer to understanding the

Art, and him, better. Then again, would he? The thought of trying to

live with a girl who acted like he did made him realize that he'd

never be able to stand it. There could only be one Ranma Saotome, his

ego would not allow it any other way.



"Stop dodging and fight me!"



Ranma jumped, avoiding a kick to the midsection, and landed on her

head, driving her to the floor. It was one of his favorite tricks,

because it annoyed people no end, and that made them clumsy and slow

when they retaliated. Only Ryouga had ever been able to tag him after

he used this trick. Akane fumed, and as always, Ranma checked her

neck. He'd been doing the land-on-head thing for years, and he was

damn good at it, but he'd never once used it on a regular person for

fear of breaking their neck. Akane was far from regular, but it didn't

hurt to be careful.



"What are you so worked up about?" Ranma ran a hand through his hair,

casually, and stepped off her head.



Akane looked up at him, shaking with some unknown emotion, "I'm a

martial artist too, you know! I have my pride!"



"Shampoo?" Ranma guessed.



Akane kept silent, but Ranma knew it. Shampoo was the only thing,

besides himself and the Kunos that really got to Akane now. Kuno and

Kodachi made her mad, and generally got punted for their efforts, and

the sparring between Akane and himself were primarily verbal, again,

with the occasional punting or malleting, but nothing serious.

Shampoo, however, always upstaged Akane, especially in martial arts

and cooking. Not that Ranma himself particularly cared what the two of

them did, as long as it didn't interrupt or involve him, but he didn't

exactly like it much either. Especially when it made Akane want to

cook to prove herself, and force the food, if it could be called that,

down his throat.



Then, if became life threatening.



"Look," he began, but got cut off by a voice from the far side of the

dojo.



"Dinner," Nabiki called, adjusting her blouse, "Break it up, you two."



Ranma 'humfed' and Akane blushed a bit, before quickly hiding it.

Quickly, Ranma straightened his shirt, "Good. I'm hungry."



"One thing, first," Nabiki held out her hand, before he could leave

the dojo, "We have company over tonight for New Years. I don't want

you to cause trouble."



Ranma crooked an eyebrow, "Oh?"



"You cause trouble... and I'll cause trouble. And I don't think you

want that," Nabiki smiled, warmly, like a cat would to a canary.



"Whatever," Ranma said, scowling, not in the mood for her or her

schemes. She stepped to the side, and he walked past her. He walked

into the dining room, and stopped, instantly. Dr. Tofu was sitting,

watching Kasumi put food on the table, his glasses fogged over worse

than the Labrador Coast. Happosai was watching some swimsuit models on

the television intently, a bit of drool collecting at the side of his

mouth. His father was nursing his stomach, and waiting intently for

the food to be served. And, sitting to the left of Mr. Tendo, and

talking animatedly with him, was none other than the lost boy himself.



"Some company," Ranma smirked, cruelly, "Inviting a pig to the table."



Ryouga bristled, a bit, but actually ignored the comment and went back

to discussing things with the Tendo patriarch. Ranma was about to say

something more, when Nabiki and Akane came in from behind him. Nabiki

walked right past him, but Akane paused to elbow him in the ribs,

"Don't annoy Ryouga-kun."



"You're being awfully friendly with him," Ranma didn't hide the

contempt in his voice.



"That's because he IS my friend," Akane left it at that and took her

seat, around the same time Nabiki sat next to Ryouga. Ranma was about

to make another attempt at goading the lost boy, when Nabiki gave him

a hard, uncompromising glare. Grumbling, the pigtailed boy took a

seat, between his father and Akane, who was seated opposite her father

and next to the still-drooling and distracted old freak.



"Happy New Year's, everybody," Kasumi put the last of the soba noodles

on the table and took her own seat, disastrously enough next to Dr.

Tofu. To his credit, the doctor was able to keep from breaking

anything. He simply chewed happily on his napkin.



"Happy New Years," Ryouga seconded, much to Ranma's annoyance. As was

typical of the family, they ate quickly, and in a minute, everything

was gone. Ranma wiped a bit of a noodle from his lower lip, faced

Ryouga, and locked eyes with him. He could see the dismissing look in

the lost boy's eyes, and Ranma smiled, ready to rip into his former

friend.



Then, Happosai howled, "NO!! My Soba Noodles!"



The attention of the two martial artists turned to the elderly pervert

at the end of the table, who seemed to be making quiet noises to

himself, his television program now over, and his bowl half empty.

Soun leaned forward, "Master? What's so funny?"



"I was crying, you idiot!" Happosai clunked Soun over the head with

his pipe.



"Ah. That was good, Kasumi!" Akane put her bowl down, and instantly,

the table cracked and gave way, splitting down the middle.



"You... You ate my Super Soba," Happosai stood up, and glared at

Akane.



"Super Soba?" Genma scratched his head.



"The wood could have just been rotten," Nabiki pointed out.



"The house is very old," Kasumi contributed.



"Wha... what a coincidence to see you here, Kasumi," Dr. Tofu didn't

contribute, he just mumbled to himself, mostly.



"And I spent so long gathering the ingredients," Happosai began to

cry, and then launched himself at Akane, "A good cry in your bosom

should make it up to me!"



Akane's hand came up, and Happosai was sent flying on contact,

crashing into and through the far wall. The youngest Tendo looked at

her palm, "Wow... Super Soba."



"Ah," Ranma interrupted, "The old freak's just toying with you. I'll

prove it."



Ranma lied down, on his side; arm up in silent challenge. Akane did

the same, and they locked hands. Ryouga looked on, in amazement, as

Ranma's whole body was flattened and thrown to the side in a loud

crash, leaving a Ranma-shaped hole in the floor.



"Oh my," Kasumi said what everyone thought.



"Again!" Ranma got up, and Akane soundly thrashed him again.



"Again!"



Crash.



"Again!"



Crash.



"AGAIN!!!"



Crash.



"It seems Ranma-kun is a real glutton for punishment," Nabiki blinked,

not really believing her eyes.



"Nothing new in that revelation," Ryouga shook his head, as the bells

outside began to ring - the first of hundred and eight times.



"I'm... so happy!!" Akane began to cry tears of joy.



Soun sniffled, "My little girl... I'm so proud."



"Our poor house," Nabiki interrupted.



Akane smiled at her older sister, and Ryouga, "Hey! I bet I'm even

stronger than you now, Ryouga!"



"Maybe," he shrugged, not really caring. Even if she was, it was

because of that magic Soba.



"Want to find out?"



"No. Not really," Ryouga scratched behind his ear, not quite

comfortable with where this is going.



"Are you afraid you're going to lose?" Akane ventured.



"Akane!" Kasumi and Nabiki said at the same time.



"Yeah, P-chan!" Ranma spoke up, "Afraid she's going to beat you?"



Ryouga's eyes narrowed. He spared Nabiki a quick glance, before

resigning himself to his fate and lying down. Slowly, he rolled up the

long sleeve on his right arm. Akane hesitated a bit - he looked

stronger than Ranma, and much more heavily muscled. Indeed, she knew

he was far stronger than Ranma. It wouldn't look good if she lost.

Ryouga was a friend, yes, but she found herself praying that he'd

lose. It'd be painful to lose face after goading him into a match with

her. They locked hands, and Akane felt his large hand, and calloused

fingers, close around hers with gentle, but incredible strength. His

face seemed neutral, but it was obvious he wasn't very comfortable in

the situation he'd been thrust into. He waited for her, and Akane used

a sudden, powerful burst to try and overwhelm him like she had Ranma.



His arm barely moved, though the ground beneath their elbows cracked

and began to give way. A moment of panic set into Akane's brain, and

she tried again, applying constant pressure. Still, his arm held,

though she could see he was gritting his teeth now. She couldn't see

him, but to the side, Ranma's eyes were wide as saucers. Akane started

to feel fatigued - she was stronger than ever, but her endurance was

the same. And an endurance contest with Ryouga Hibiki was no contest

at all. Finally, mercifully, the floor under them gave way, kicking up

some dust.



Ryouga's hand left hers, and he stood up, shaking his arm a little,

"Tie?"



"Tie," she agreed, and the two shook hands. He obviously seemed

grateful it had ended when it did, and Akane wasn't sure whether or

not, had it come down to it, he would have beaten her or let her win,

to save face. He smiled weakly, nervously, and Akane nodded. He knew

the ground would give out before one of them won. Mentally, she kicked

herself for challenging him in the first place. Some friend she turned

out to be.



"Well, that was fun," Ryouga lied, and bowed politely to Mr. Tendo, "I

think its time to go. Thank you for the meal, Tendo-san."



"Anytime. You two have fun, now," Mr. Tendo waved him off.



"Bye, daddy!" Nabiki waved back, grabbed her jacket, and headed out,

Ryouga following right behind her. Ryouga neither had, nor needed, a

jacket, because the cold wasn't really a problem for him, but he

waited while Nabiki fitted herself into hers. She was wearing a barely

loose fitting black blouse, blue jeans, and her jacket was almost the

same shade of yellow gold that he wore. The winter, so far, had been

mild, and her jacket looked quite light. He blushed, and turned away a

bit, looking outside. In the sky, he could see the occasional flash of

fireworks going off. Checking his watch, he smiled a bit. Nabiki had

given it to him for Christmas, though he'd still been in the hospital

at the time. Of course, he hadn't been able to do any shopping for

anyone, so he just promised to 'owe her one' even though he suspected

he was getting himself deeper into debt. To his surprise, she invited

him over for New Years, and said that she just wanted to go out and

see the town with someone - at their expense, of course, instead of

just sitting around and watching television like the family normally

did.



She took his arm, and led him out. Ryouga was still blushing in

embarrassment, and fought to keep it under control. This was Nabiki -

a standoffish, manipulative woman, though at times nice and even cute,

she was also a master actor and player of the game, and not to be

trusted. Still... he grinned, a little shyly, and let her lead him out

of the house and to the front gate. She turned to him, as they walked,

and smiled, pleasantly, "Arigato."



"For what?"



"Letting her win," Nabiki said, plainly.



"I... don't know what you're talking about. That soba was strong

stuff... she's stronger than anything I've ever experienced before."



"Maybe. But wood doesn't just explode in little puffs of smoke

naturally you know," she ribbed him, gently, but he felt it, "I don't

think anyone else saw it though. I was a little surprised myself -

don't you need to yell 'Bakusai Tenketsu' to do the move?"



Ryouga laughed, softly, "No. That's only when you're learning. It

helps develop focus. Consider that fact a freebee."



"Very generous of you, Hibiki," Nabiki opened the gate, and they

stepped out, together.



***



"The hell?" Ranma blinked as a quick black shape passed by the

periphery of his vision, silhouetted against the lights out over the

koi pond and the rest of the yard. It looked almost like... P-chan.

But that was impossible. Ryouga obviously wasn't sleeping with Akane

in that form, now that she knew, and besides, he'd left with Nabiki a

little while ago. Then again, he hadn't seen Ryouga change at all

since he came back, mostly because he wasn't in the Nerima-Water

Hazard Area that much, but the fact remained. Also, he hadn't

responded to the P-chan taunting like he usually did. Was he cured?

Was his cursed form, maybe now a separate creature, returning to its

'home?'



"Hey, pig!" Ranma ran out to the edge of the dojo, where it opened

into the yard, and looked around. The little critter was gone. That

was odd... he had been around here somewhere.



"NOW!"



"Get 'im!"



"What?" Ranma whirled, avoiding a rather long and nasty looking sword

that imbedded itself into the dojo floor where he'd been standing,

followed by a flurry of thrown bolas. Thrown off guard, Ranma had been

unable to properly dodge the bolas, and had paid the price for it,

having his left arm tightly wound around his chest. The sword was

still quivering where it had cut into the ground, when a flurry of

spatulas rained down, forcing Ranma to jump back, and twist to avoid

the blades. Still in midair, Ranma got a look at his attackers as they

leapt from the shadows, "Aw, geez! You two idiots?"



"Time for a humbling, Saotome!" Ukyou was the quickest, and closed the

distance, while Mousse stayed at range, a long polearm drawn and

ready.



"Why don't you two morons just get lost?!" Ranma back flipped away

from Ukyou's initial attack, and lashed out with a kick that caught

her at the back of the neck. Ukyou flew back with the blow, tucked her

legs in, and landed on her feet, none the worse for wear.



"Why don't YOU just DIE?!" Ukyou roared, crossed her arms, and

concentrated. Her battle aura flowed out and over her, and her hands

blurred, as she loosed two-dozen mini-spatulas in as many heartbeats.



"Yeah, right," Ranma took a familiar stance, his hands starting to

move at incredible speed to deflect the blades, "Katchu..."



    "Painiyao Chuan Version 2.1!"



    Ranma grunted, as the first of a hailstorm of blows connected with

his lower back, and tossing him right into the blizzard of thrown

mini-spatulas. The instant of panic came and passed, but Ranma Saotome

pivoted, and let his momentum carry him forward and down, passing

through the weapons with only a nick across the shoulder. Rolling

forward, he kicked up and out, towards Ukyou, his battle aura now in

full force. The awkwardness of the move gave her enough time to move,

allowing Ukyou to block the kick. Landing, Ranma looked down to see

what kind of damage he'd taken, and saw them.



    Breasts.



    He was female. How? To his side, Mousse started laughing, "Let's

see how cocky you are now, Saotome!"



    "Hey!" Ranma saw Mousse throw aside the broken, and still slightly

damp, Fist of the White Swan. He'd obviously remade it to hold water,

and break after a few blows, drenching the target. To Ranma's right,

Ukyou advanced, slowly.



    "Heh," Mousse gave a single, sharp laugh, his hands in his

sleeves, "He's weaker in his girl form. Much easier to deal with."



    "Double team on three, sugar," Ukyou was chuckling softly, her

male-guise ponytail wafting in the breeze blown in from the now-open

side of the dojo. She was out of mini-spatulas in her bandolier, but

Ranma knew she had other surprised hidden on her person.



"One," Mousse took a step forward.



"Two," Ukyou shifted her grip on her megaspatula.



"Three," Ranma scowled, and they attacked.



    ***



"Hey, look. Its Kuno."



"Where?"



"There," Ryouga pointed down the street. Nabiki squinted a bit in the

low light, before finally making out the shape of a certain familiar

kendoist, "Looks like he sees us."



Nabiki scoffed, "I really don't feel like dealing with Kuno-chan right

now."



"It's a little too late now," Ryouga shrugged, "Besides, I need to

tell him something."



Tatewaki Kuno met them halfway down the street, a box of chocolates in

one hand, and a bouquet of red roses in the other. They met under a

business shop's overhang. Ryouga gave a quick, short nod, and Kuno

stopped and noted just who he was with, "Well met, Wanderer. And you,

as well, Nabiki Tendo."



"Hey, Kuno, lookin' good! What's up? Who are those chocolates for?"

Ryouga asked, pleasantly.



"Ah. These sweets are for the similarly sweet, yet fierce, Akane

Tendo, so that my love for her would be signified by the taste of yon

pastries upon her gentle lips. She loves me well."



Ryouga sniffed with a practiced nose, "Truffles?"



"How didst thou know?"



"Er," Ryouga bit his lip, and Nabiki laughed, "I'm a good guesser.

Akane doesn't like truffles, though. She's allergic."



"What?" Kuno shook his head, "Art thou sure?"



"Its true, Kuno-baby. She puffs up like a balloon when she eats

truffles," Nabiki pointed out, straight faced.



"Tis a tragedy, then - a sad fit of circumstance!"



"I'll take them off your hands, Kuno-baby," Nabiki grabbed the small

box of candy. Kuno was about to ask them back when Ryouga interrupted

him.



"Are those roses for the pigtailed girl?"



"Ah... they are," Kuno took in a deep breath, "Yes, for the pigtailed

girl is like a rose, so delicate, and yet so strong..."



"She prefers lilies, I hear," Ryouga looked over his shoulder, "In

fact, when I went to pick Nabiki up, I overheard Ranma saying that he

was going to buy her some himself."



"The Sorcerer dares seduce my pigtailed goddess?!"



"Well, he did mention ringing in the New Year with her..."



Kuno reached for his bokken, teeth clenched, "I shall punish him!"



"Here. Lemme hold those for ya," Ryouga took the bouquet of roses, and

Kuno raced off towards the Tendo Dojo, a righteous fury now thoroughly

stoked and burning in his mind. As he vanished, Ryouga sighed, and

shook his head, "I almost feel sorry doing that."



"I thought you hated Ranma," Nabiki opened the box, and popped a

single black chocolate into her mouth.



"I meant I almost felt sorry for Kuno," Ryouga looked at the roses,

and handed them over to her, using his best Kuno-impersonation, "For

the capitalistic brown-eyed goddess, Nabiki Tendo. I would date with

thee."



"That's terrible," she took the roses, and the two laughed, "You make

an awful Kuno, Ryouga."



"It's the thought that counts," he let her arm interlock with his own,

"Are those any good?"



"Sure. Want one?" Nabiki held up one of the little chocolates.



Ryouga took it from her, their hands brushing for a second, and ate

it. Chocolate he didn't particularly like, but recently he'd had an

unusual attraction to truffles. Combined with Ranma's recent obsession

with getting ice cream in his female form led the lost boy to wonder

just what kind of influence his cursed form was having, or could be

having, on his normal body. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but luckily,

it came and went quickly. There'd be time to worry about it later,

anyway. Ryouga licked his lips, getting a stray bit of chocolate off

his upper lip, "Not bad."



The two walked in silence for a few steps, before Nabiki spoke up,

"What was it you wanted to tell him, anyway?"



"Kuno?"



Nabiki nodded.



"Oh. Well, right now, Mousse and Ukyou are off playing with Saotome,"

Ryouga smiled, though it wasn't particularly friendly, "It's the

reason I didn't feel the need to pound him earlier. I knew he'd be

getting his in a few minutes anyway. I figure throwing Kuno into the

mix couldn't hurt... anyone except Ranma, that is.



"And if he's in his girl form?"



"I hadn't thought of that... but it's not likely. Mousse and Ukyou

should stay away from the Koi pond, for obvious reasons, and keep it

in the dojo," he saw the disapproving look in her eyes, "I also told

them to keep the collateral damage to a minimum."



"They better. Or you'll be paying for it," Nabiki scowled, "I can't

believe you..."



"What? Planned an attack on your future brother-in-law?" Ryouga rolled

his eyes, "It's what I do. It's who I am. I said I was going to

destroy his happiness, and I will."



"All because of some stupid bread?"



Ryouga stopped walking, and Nabiki got jerked back a bit, her arm

still in his.



"What?" she asked.



"Its not the bread," Ryouga's voice was cold, "Nabiki... Ranma knocked

me into the Heituenniichuan. The spring of drowned damned piglet! He

ruined my life, several times over! I'll never forgive what he did to

me. Never."



"And where do you think this feud is going to get you, hmm?" Nabiki

gave his arm a hard shake, "What do you want to get out of it?"



"Revenge!"



"Where's the profit in that?"



"I... I," he stuttered, "I don't know. I don't know, Nabiki. This is

just something I have to do. If I don't settle things with him, I

swear, I'm going to explode. I've trained and worked and bled for too

much for it to come to nothing. Maybe I can't explain it that well,

but..."



Nabiki sighed, "Alright. All right. I get the idea."



"Good," Ryouga didn't say anymore.



"Now, can we get to the movie before it starts?"



"Um... sure. You'll... er... lead the way," he mumbled a bit, and

Nabiki dragged him off.



"Baka."



***



"Got 'im! Now, sugar!"



"Die, Saotome!" Mousse flipped in the air, raining down nets on the

pinned down pigtailed one. Busy grappling with Ukyou, he looked up

just as the interlaced nets widened and began to descend on him, like

a cloud. Cursing silently, he overpowered Ukyou, and broke her grip on

her megaspatula by twisting it and throwing her over his shoulder.

Without hesitating, Ranma spun, and threw the large bladed weapon up

and into the nets, putting a bit of a spin on it as to catch and

tangle the nets before they could do the same to him.



"Kuso!" Ukyou balled her fists, and watched as her weapon fell to the

ground, now tangled beyond quick recovery. Unarmed combat had never

really been her forte, and though Ranma-chan wasn't as strong as

Ranma-kun, she still out-muscled her by a fair margin, and worse,

Ranma-chan was almost ridiculously fast. Mousse landed, and sensing

her hesitation, closed the distance with Ranma with a flourish of

weapons and barehanded attacks. He had a significant reach advantage,

this much was obvious, but Ranma's technique was much more fluid and

flexible, and her speed was much greater. Mousse was hard pressed to

hold his own, much less do any real damage.



Ukyou made a quick decision, and lunged for her weapon.



"Halt, varlet!"



Ukyou stopped, her feet skidding on the floor of the dojo, and looked

up.



"Kuno," she frowned, "What are you doing here?"



"How dare thou assault the pigtailed one?"



"Jackass. Ranma is your enemy too!"



"I see not the foul sorcerer Saotome present; only a duo of fiends

attacking the most healthy and vibrant of wildflowers. I won't allow

it!" Kuno's bokken swung in a swift, downward arc.



Ukyou acted quickly, rolling to the side, "What are you doing, you

moron?!"



"Stand still and let me vanquish thee!"



To her side, Mousse crashed to the ground, but rolled and got back to

his feet, claws drawn and ready. He spat a bit of blood, "Is that all

you've got, Saotome!? SHINE!!"



"Strike Strike Strike Strike Strike Strike!!"



"Kachuu Tenshi Amaguriken!!"



"Four Bomb!!"



"Nihao!"



"Shampoo! Help me out here!"



"Shampoo?! Where?!"



"Ah... the purple haired vixen would challenge the Blue Thunder? Very

well, if you defeat me, I shall date with thee!"



"Shampoo! I love you!"



"Get off me, you jackass! I'm not Shampoo!"



"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"



"Sweeto!"



"Keep it down out there, damn it!"



***



"Are you sure your father won't mind?"



"Nah. He seems to like you."



"I come in handy," Ryouga huffed up a bit, "He wants a rival for

Ranma. I'm useful for that. He wanted someone to make Ranma jealous

over Akane. I *was* useful for that. I don't think its anything else."



"You're too damn depressing, you know that?" Nabiki reprimanded him;

"It gets annoying after a little while."



"Does it, now? I'm a realist. It's the world that's depressing, not

me," Ryouga's face was indifferent, "I actually consider myself an

optimist."



"Yeah right."



"Its true. When you're at the bottom of a cliff, what's the only way

to look?"



"Up... I guess."



"Exactly. If I weren't an optimist, I'd have... done something hasty

and unfortunate a long time ago," Still, Ryouga's face was unreadable,

"Anyway... you're not exactly happy go lucky either, you know."



"I'm content. ...Mostly," Nabiki looked away, up at the night sky,

"I've got a family."



"How is that, anyway? Having a family?"



Nabiki gave him a disbelieving look, "What do you mean, how is it?"



"Well... You know, I don't really have one. Not a normal family,

anyway. Ukyou's my closest friend, and she barely talks to her family

now. I don't really know a lot of people."



"My family," Nabiki gave a short, quick laugh at the very thought, "My

family is just... that. I live with them. Kasumi's nice, and Akane is

fun to be around... or used to be... I don't really know. I don't have

a lot in common with any of them, to tell the truth."



"What do ya mean?"



"Kasumi's just... not normal, really. She likes doing housework, and I

can't stand it. She's... she's a little like mother, and I was never

really all that close to her either. We talk, but I really can't

relate to her much. Akane and I used to be close, but then she really

got into the Family School and martial arts, and everyone just seemed

to love her. I mean, the second day she came to school, it was like,

'snap' and the whole school body became the Akane-obsessed."



"Ignoring you, completely. I know how it feels, Nabiki. To be alone in

a crowd."



"Yeah," Nabiki looked down at her feet, "But even you were obsessed

with her."



"I suppose I was... before... everything. But that could have been

anyone. If you had picked me up..."



"What? You'd be sleeping with me every night?" Nabiki smiled, as the

lost boy flushed.



"Not... not every night! I... er..."



"Pervert," she smacked him playfully on the chest. As they approached

the outer wall, a strange stillness filled the air.



"Its quiet. Too quiet," Ryouga said, in a conspiratorial tone. He

swung open the dojo gate after Nabiki unlocked it, and came face to

face with a very battered, tired, and angry Ranma-chan.



"You... you," Ranma took a wobbly step forward.



"Happy New Year, Saotome," Ryouga gently touched her shoulder, her

clothes froze up, and he and Nabiki went into the house without

another word, "I'll be in your room, Ranma, so why don't you just

sleep outside today? Great! Thanks, buddy."



Ranma grunted something incoherent from the floor.



***



"I'll KILL him!" Ranma stormed into the Nekohanten.



Shampoo was the only one up, and she rubbed her eyes to get the sleep

out of them, "Kill who? Airen come see Shampoo? Is very early."



"Where's the old ghoul?!"



"She in back," Shampoo motioned with her hand, and locked the front

door. They didn't open for two hours, and Shampoo couldn't be happier

for that fact. The late night fight she'd gotten involved in had been

tiring, and she'd had to drag Mousse back after Ranma finally knocked

him unconscious. Fortunately, he'd been in his duck form, and hadn't

been that hard to carry. He'd left miscellaneous weapons all over the

Tendo dojo and yard, too, but those were his responsibility to clean

up after. She'd only taken her home with her because Ukyou had asked,

right before she'd passed out on the roof. The two of them had come

out of the fight the worst, physically.



Shampoo still owed that annoying stick-boy for last night, too. After

Ranma-chan had been forced to turn her attentions to Happosai, and

Mousse, and Ukyou, she'd been left alone trying to fend off his

attacks. She had been weaponless, too, and no matter how often she

beat him into the ground he got back up a few seconds later. It was

almost like he had the endurance of the Bakusai Tenketsu training,

though, fortunately, not the resistance to damage. Still, he'd been

tenacious enough to be beyond annoying.



"Ugh," Shampoo suddenly remembered that she was scheduled to

participate in a Martial Arts Ping Pong Tournament later in the day.

Right now, she was seriously considering skipping it entirely. Ranma

was gone, already, and frankly, Shampoo was too tired to give a damn.

It was something to deal with later. Going upstairs to her room, she

tuned out, and went back to sleep.



Cologne studied him carefully, "Yes, boy?"



"I need trainin,' old ghoul," he paused, "And you're the best there is

around here."



"And why should I train you, hmm?" Cologne asked, frankly.



"You trained him to beat me."



"Only because it got me what I wanted. ...Or would have, anyway, had

you not run away."



"I didn't run away. It was the Saotome Secret Technique. Its based on

the concepts of 'motion,' 'contemplation,' and 'opposition.'"



"You ran away," Cologne said again, and he sighed in exasperation.



"Ok, I ran away! Happy now?"



"No," Cologne clasped her hands together and considered things. Her

training of the lost boy had been twofold. Ryouga Hibiki was Ranma's

contemporary, and showed a similarly exceptional skill for martial

arts. Training him would both give her a connection to him that she

could use later, with him as an ally, and when Shampoo came along,

Cologne was quick to realize it could well bring those two together as

well. Optimally, such an association would make Ranma more jealous,

and allow the two to compete over her granddaughter instead of the

violent Tendo girl. Either of them would be fine, and Shampoo would

have the choice and the room to pick and choose at her leisure. It

would also force them to grow dependant on her to advance their skill

levels... once they began to grow familiar with the Amazon techniques,

it was only a matter of time before they would want to join the tribe

themselves, if only to keep close to the source of their martial arts

improvement, and a desire not to be left behind.



Ranma was easily the most naturally skilled young person, of either

gender, that Cologne had seen in decades. He was incredibly fast, and

his mind soaked up martial arts like a sponge. He was also greedy,

short sighted, and dim witted - much like his father. This was both a

good and bad thing. It was good, because he could be easily

manipulated, and it was bad, because it was annoying and constantly

grated on her nerves. Of course, when she heard from her great

granddaughter that Ryouga Hibiki had returned, or was trying to, it

made this meeting between them inevitable. Things were proceeding

slowly, but they were proceeding as she had anticipated.



"I will train you," she began, "And you... will date my great

granddaughter, steadily, for so long as you remain under my tutelage."



Ranma scratched his chin, "What's to keep you from dragging it out?

Slowing things down, so I'm forced to date Shampoo longer than I

should have to?"



"Why," she smiled, "Nothing, of course."



Ranma's fists clenched. She had him backed into a corner, and they

both knew it. After a few seconds of silence, Ranma leaned over, and

looked her in the eyes, "Only if you make me good enough to win."



Cologne blinked, slowly, "I think I can manage that."



"I want your word."



"You have my solemn word, as a Joketsuzoku Elder."



"Good," Ranma stood back up, "Good."



"Indeed," Cologne whispered, softly, "Things could hardly be better."



***



"How did I get into this mess?" Ranma thought, and not for the first

time. He was, currently, trapped between the proverbial rock and a

hard place. Outside, a super strong Akane Tendo waited, less than

patiently, for gods knew what. She had been taking advantage of her

new strength not only to beat him down, of late, but also to avenge

her past losses to Shampoo by challenging her to a round of 'Martial

Arts Ping Pong.' It all sounded ridiculous, but then again, there were

rumors going around of a 'Martial Arts Tea Ceremony' dojo somewhere

nearby, so nothing really surprised him anymore.



Under the large iron bell that Shampoo was currently holding up over

her head, said girl was looking at him with a mixture of annoyance,

and something else, he wasn't sure what. If he had to wager a guess,

Ranma figured it was probably simple confusion. Somehow, she'd gotten

some of the Super Soba for herself, and the two women were about to

tear the town apart with their bare hands by batting multi-ton shrine

bells around. Needless to say, the whole situation literally smelt

like trouble. Ranma rubbed his temples in frustration, and reached

into his left pocket, taking out a tiny radish.



Luckily, there was a simple and easily acquired antidote to the Super

Soba. There were also side effects, yes, that he'd personally prefer

neither girl had, but those concerns were secondary. It was a matter

of pride - and the hurt of said pride in the face of being humiliated

by Akane over the last day and a half. It was time to put an end to

it, so he could concentrate on more important things, namely his

training to beat the Lost Boy and regain his rightful place as the

strongest in Nerima. Akane could grow whiskers until she tripped on

them. His concern was to put things back into their place, and make

damn sure they stayed there.



"Shampoo," Ranma smiled, brightly, "Open wide, please."



Shampoo walked over, batted her eyes, and opened her mouth.



"There's a good girl," Ranma popped the little radish into her mouth,

and instantly her arms gave out, and the bell fell down behind her,

trapping them under it.



"Now, for a certain kawaiikune tomboy," Ranma went over to the edge

and dug his fingers just barely under the edge of the massive iron

bell. Slowly, he started to lift, before his arms fatigues and he fell

back, breathing heavily. He heard Shampoo come up from behind, and

felt her small, but still strong, hands on his shoulders.



"Now Airen and Shampoo all along in dark," she crawled up to him and

purred in his ear, "You kiss Shampoo?"



"Ahh," Ranma looked from here, to where he knew Akane was standing, on

the other side of the iron. He spoke more loudly, "AH! Shampoo! Don't

touch me THERE!"



Instantly, he grabbed Shampoo's head, and ducked. Inches from where

their faces had both been, something hard and heavy cut through the

air ...and half the iron bell they were trapped under. Akane was livid

with rage, now, and trembling, "Rrraaannmmaa! What do you think you're

doing?!"



 "Nothing," he jumped up, casually, taking out another of the antidote

radishes, "Say 'aah.'"



"Aah," Akane opened her mouth, but clamped her jaws shut a heartbeat

before he could pop the little vegetable into her mouth, "What was

that?"



"The antidote," Ranma shrugged, as if it was nothing at all.



"Oh no you don't! You're just jealous because I'm stronger than you!"



That was true, but Ranma didn't say anything much, "You'll be sorry if

you don't eat the antidote."



"Yeah, right," Akane rolled her eyes, "I'm finally strong and you want

me to just give it up?! Never! You'll have to defeat me in combat

first!"



Ranma's eyes narrowed, for only a millisecond. Akane was stronger than

him, true, but she was still far slower, clumsier, less experienced

and less resistant to damage than Ukyou, Shampoo, Mousse, or even

Kuno. She was also a girl, AND his fiancee. Had she been a boy, Ranma

would have already demonstrated that strength wasn't everything by

reducing him to little bits of idiot strewn around the district. Ranma

Saotome had very little patience for this sort of situation. However,

given who and what she was, a more ...shrewd method was required to

get the job done.



"Then I challenge you to a game of Martial Arts Ping Pong!"



"I accept!" Akane turned, and jumped off the roof, heading towards the

ring a couple hundred feet away. Ranma was about to follow her, when,

by chance, something unusual caught his eye. There was a bowl just

sitting there, on the far side of the roof. Walking over to it, he was

joined by Shampoo. She picked it up, looked inside, and shook her

head.



"Super Soba all gone. Stupid Happosai! Shampoo going make him make

more!" Shampoo threw aside the bowl, and jumped off in some general

direction, presumably to look for the ancient pervert himself. Ranma

looked down at the bowl. It wasn't one of theirs, which meant Happosai

probably stole it.



"No surprise there," Ranma looked more closely, and saw that there was

still a fair amount of crust in a ring along the sides of the bowl,

and on the bottom. Neurons traded electrons a couple thousand million

times, and an idea slowly but surely began to form. Jumping down, he

ducked into a store, and in a few minutes, came out with a small

plastic vial full of brownish looking water. It didn't look pleasant,

but Ranma was sure that, if drunk, it would achieve something similar,

though watered down, to eating the magical Soba. And even if it only

provided a fraction of the strength that Shampoo and Akane got, it

would go a good way to evening the gap between Ryouga and himself in

the raw muscle department.



Then again, in a rare moment of moral indecision, Ranma realized that

taking the drink to get stronger would be undermining everything he'd

worked for, and believed in. Strength didn't come from potions, or

magic, or anything like that... it came from hard work and training.

He knew that. Ryouga knew that. Or did he? Ryouga had been willing to

accept 'steroids' from Nabiki, back when they'd had their first Nerima

Duel. Maybe he'd done something similar while he was away, in which

case, Ranma taking the distilled Essence of Super Soba would only be

fair. He'd only be catching up. Then again, even if Ryouga had done

that, and he really doubted that the lost boy would, would that make

it any more right to take it himself and sink to that level.



Was he that desperate?



Ryouga was already nearly impossible to put down without hitting him

hundreds of times in the same spot, and even then, recently, that

tactic had fallen short of the lost boy's never levels of damage

resistance. What if, in not taking a sip from this bit of liquid, he

lost the match? He'd be humbled, in an official, public duel, in front

of everyone, all because he chosen the morally acceptable route

instead of the alternative. Ranma pondered this. His father had been

adamant in saying that the point of fighting is to win.



'Any Victory is better than Any Defeat.'



Any Victory.



No matter the cost.



Ranma swirled the liquid around in the vial.



No matter the cost.



All he'd have to do is pop the cork and drink it.



No matter the cost.



There was always the antidote, anyway, if he changed his mind. Right?



No matter the cost.



It might not even do anything... much.



No matter the cost.



"Ranma!" Akane interrupted his thoughts, "Are you coming or not?!"



"Uh... yeah," Ranma quickly put the vial into a hidden pocket, and

went to get some cold water and a change of clothes.



    ***



Ryouga's laughter was a deep bass rumble that chilled the flesh

down to the bone. His eyes flashed, and for a moment, disappeared into

an abyss of white, like an alien sea. His hand moved, almost lazily,

to the side, and destruction followed in its wake, tearing the ground

at Ranma's feet into shreds of grass and earth. Ranma felt himself

involuntarily step back, wavering, fighting his urge to run. Ryouga

just seemed amused.



"Go ahead and run, Saotome," he spoke, his tone promising only

death.



Ranma could feel his body shaking.



"Run, Ranma. Run away," his mouth moved into a bemused smirk,

"I'll catch you eventually anyway."



He took a step forward, and the ground trembled to the heat of

Ranma's heart.



"I always do," another step, the soft earth splintering at his

passing, "I always will."



"Stay back," Ranma got back into a fighting stance. His muscles

burnt from exhaustion, and his lower back threatened to give out

completely.



Ryouga just laughed. It was a cold, heartless laughter that only

hinted at an insanity grounded in the deepest of hatred. He kept

approaching; his footsteps now more like thunderclaps, growing

steadily louder and louder. After one or two, they became deafening...

almost drowning out thought itself. Ranma concentrated, and looked for

a weakness, but there was none. It seemed the whole planet was

trembling now, beneath his feet, as if on the verge of falling apart

at the seams. Ryouga was massive, too, and as he shook his head back

and forth, lazily, dark shapes fell to the ground, slowly coalescing

into creatures with legs and claws and fangs.



"You're a coward, boy," his voice seemed to merge with Genma's,

"Everyone knows it, except you."



"N... no," Ranma looked at his hands - they looked so small, now. Then

he realized he was too small, like a boy, and there were sausages and

fish cakes and sardines strung and tied around his arms and legs. The

terror rose, like bile, and Ranma had to remember to breathe. Only

when the sounds started, that horrible hungry mewing, and the barely

audible scraping of claws, did Ranma see them, around Ryouga's feet,

crawling towards him, eyes glowing like tiny demons.



Kill them.



There was a wave, a great tidal wave that blocked out the sky and the

cats were everywhere - fur and claws and teeth and blood and pain. And

the only other sound, the only sound that kept him anything near sane,

was the laughter. It was Ryouga's laughter, as mirthless and cold as

Lake Baikal, and coming from every direction. Moments of madness came

and passed, like rapid fire switches, and Ranma saw himself tearing at

the little demons, ripping them in half, and screaming: screaming

until his lungs hurt and his mouth was dry as the desert and it seemed

like he'd never taste air again.



And then, when there was only a sea of blood and ragged fur decorating

the world, from horizon to horizon, he stood at the laughing demon,

and source of his horror. A voice, kind and gentle, maybe his

mother's, told him, 'Kill this thing. Kill him and be a Man.'



So Ranma attacked.



Ryouga still laughed, even as the claws of the Neko-ken cut into his

body, carving his skin and shredding it into the winds. He laughed,

even as Ranma tore out his eyes. He laughed, and with a single motion

too swift to be believed, except for the cyclone of pain it left in

its wake, Ryouga smashed him to the ground. And there were suddenly

eyes everywhere, and voices, talking and laughing. A heavy boot, like

a mountain range squeezed into a footprint, crushed his back, and

Ranma couldn't feel his legs.



"I'm only playing with you. You're a little toy to me," Ryouga's voice

returned, and Ranma twisted just enough to see the dark flames of ki

around his nemesis seep into his wounds, sealing them up in seconds.

The laughter returned, and reverberated, and was joined by so many

others it was impossible to distinguish. It was as if every voice, and

every eye, was on him, and reveling in his humiliation.



"Go home to your mommy, boy," Genma-Ryouga spoke, and the others were

silent, if only for a moment, "Though I doubt she'll stomach a

weakling like you in Her House."



"I'm... I'm not weak," Ranma spat, in defiance, and the boot rose,

only to come down just below his shoulder blades, crushing his spine

into a broken mess, and paralyzing him for life.



"No. I suppose not. You're pathetic."



"No," the tears came, and his lips stopped working properly,

preferring to make gurgling noises. No. No. NO. NO! NO!!!



"NO!" Ranma bolted upright, drenched in sweat. He looked around in the

dark; his eyes only slightly adjusted to the darkness, and saw only

his room. To his right, Genma lay, for once in his human form,

peacefully sleeping, again, for once. Normally, his old man, now often

a Panda, snored like he had a community of gnomes living in his nose

who only mined at night. Ranma looked at his hands, and saw that his

own nails scraped the insides of his palms, probably while he was

sleeping. Slowly composing himself, Ranma got up, and went to the

bathroom.



The cold water that ran over his hands almost made Ranma flinch, but

he held them under the stream of ice-cold tap water. Looking at

himself in the mirror, he noted the circles around his eyes, and

cursed under his breath. He hadn't been sleeping that much to begin

with, in an effort to improve his endurance, and when he did, the

nightmares came full force. Tonights had just been the worst, yet. The

ones before were generally subtler.



"Bwee."



"Nani?" Ranma looked down, under the sink, and saw something small and

black. Kneeling, he saw the black piglet, and narrowed his eyes. It

was minus the bandanna, but it looked identical to Ryouga's cursed

form. A moment of annoyance, and even anger, came and went, when he

looked into the creature's eyes. It wasn't Ryouga. It wasn't even

human. It was just some poor animal. Mousse or Ukyou had probably used

it as a lure, and then been unable to find it after the fight last

night. He held out his hand, and the piglet tensed to run.



"Come on," Ranma showed it his open palm, and the piglet sniffed it

quickly, and relaxed a bit. Ranma sighed, and picked the little pig up

- it obviously seemed relieved and relaxed instantly into his arm,

which was amazing in and of itself, because animals of all types

generally didn't like him that much. Looking at it, Ranma scratched

behind the piglet's left ear, "Maybe I should give you to Akane. What

do you think of that, hmm?"



"Qee," it looked up at him, and blinked.



Ranma considered what he had just said. The pig seemed nice enough,

and it was, after all, just an animal. It might even make up for how

he'd treated her earlier, when after curing her of the Super Soba, he

beat her a dozen times or so in arm wrestling, just to make sure that

he was back to form, and in their normal roles. At the time, it had

just been natural... a way to take out the stress of before, but in

retrospect, she hadn't been very friendly (not that she usually was

anyway) the rest of the day. And, of course, Nabiki and Kasumi hadn't

been too approving of his behavior, either. Luckily, Soun just seemed

happy his daughter wouldn't be growing any unnecessary facial hair.



Before Ranma really knew what he was doing, he had already tapped

lightly on Akane's door. When he realized it, really realized where he

was and what he was doing, he almost left. Maybe Akane would have just

thought she imagined it? Too late for him to make a run for it the

door cracked open and a pair of blue-black eyes caught his in the

darkness.



"Ranma?" the eyes blinked, sleepily. She obviously wasn't very alert

or awake. Then again, who would be this early in the morning?



"Um," he looked away from her eyes, and held out the piglet, "Here."



She blinked again, the sleep quickly leaving her features, though they

were still largely obscured by darkness, "Is... P-chan? Is that..."



"It ain't Ryouga. He was wandering around. And I kind of thought

you might, um... want a pet or something," Ranma realized he was

babbling, so he just held out his hands a little further.



The pig looked up at Akane. Slowly, she reached out and took him

into her arms, while stepping more into the light from the hallway.

The animal seemed to settle into her arms. Ranma figured his former

owner, before either Mousse or Ukyou picked him up, had probably held

him like that. Akane smiled, warmly, first to the pig, and then to

him.



"Thanks. Ranma," she began, and blushed a bit, though it was

nearly impossible to see.



Ranma saw.



"No problem," he felt uncomfortable and self-conscious, "Sorry

about waking you up... but, you know, I'm no good with animals,

and..."



"I understand," she cut him off. They stood in silence for what

seemed like hours, before Akane licked her dry lips, and rubbed one of

her eyes, "I'll see you in the morning, Ranma."



"Y... Yeah."



"G'night," she closed the door, and Ranma was alone in the hallway

- only himself, and his thoughts.



"G'night. ...Akane," he said to no one save himself, "Kawaii..."



***



I told him to get lost.



Well, to be more exact, I made him get lost. It seemed like a good

idea at the time. The bastard had it coming, really, after that stunt

he pulled for New Year's. I couldn't let it go unanswered, so I lured

him out of his house, pissed him off, and ran like hell. He was

actually catching up on me, even though I had a good head start on

him, when I ducked into a shopping center. Next thing I know, he's

gone.



It seemed like a good idea at the time. Get the directionally

challenged idiot lost for a few weeks and make sure the duel didn't

take place before my training with Cologne was finished, or near-

finished. I didn't expect anything more would come from it - then,

when Nabiki heard about it, she slapped me. I honestly couldn't

believe it. True, it wasn't like Kasumi did it, but Nabiki... who

expected it from her? The stupid pig-boy must've grown on her or

something. I actually thought she'd be happy, because it'd force me to

keep paying her according to our 'deal' from before.



Even Akane didn't understand! Damn that kawaiikune tomboy! I swear,

every time I think she starts to understand how I feel, or who and

what I am, she proves me wrong! Its not like I'm going out with

Shampoo because I want to. It's a means to an end, and a way to pacify

the old ghoul so I can keep training. Hell, I even tried explaining

it, but she refused to listen. This whole fiancee thing is the

stupidest thing I've ever heard of.



Baka!



That baka! I can't believe he'd go steady with Shampoo, just to train

with her great grandmother! How could he just turn his back on m... my

school like that? He sleeps under our roof, eats our food, barely even

goes to school anymore, and acts like he'd king of the place. Every

day, he comes back tired and beaten, barely says a word to anyone,

eats something, and goes to sleep. He barely even looks at me anymore!





It's not like I like him or anything.



No. I never liked him. But he was nice to have around, once in a blue

moon, and sometimes he was handy for beating up Kuno or whatever. I

never liked him, understand, but he was fun to be around sometimes. I

miss him in school. The Principal's back from Hawaii, and I don't want

to think what it'd be like if not for Ukyou and even Kuno. They're

basically the only two people who can keep him in check, seeing as how

often Ranma skips school or simply sleeps through the classes.

Sometimes Mousse stops by, too, usually on his way to delivering

something or whatever, and helps. He and Ukyou seem to get along well,

and its always fun to see them double team the Principal whenever he

tries anything outrageous.



I don't know how many of that jackass' barber tools I've taken away

from him. It's just our dumb luck that the idiot is a Kuno, and as

rich as Siberia is wide, so he seems to have an unlimited supply of

them. Beating the moron up is good therapy, especially since his own

family seems to hate him as much as anyone, and everyone, else. Mousse

and I have been plotting to get revenge on Saotome again, and we've

been training hard to get better, but I've seen, and gotten involved

in, some of Cologne's training.



Every day, Ranma gets just that much better than me.



Faster. Stronger. More skilled. At this rate, it's going to be

impossible to get my revenge. He may have beaten me half to death the

last time we fought, if not for ...Damn him. It doesn't matter. I can

see Ryouga now. He's been lost for almost a month, but I see him. I

suppose Nabiki'll be happy, though the thought isn't a pleasant one.

As I bump into him, I'm tempted to question him about it, but a hard

look in his eyes is all the discouragement I need. He's here for

business.



Things have gotten complicated.



I've lost control of the situation, and even myself. I need someone to

talk to, and settle for Kasumi, but she doesn't really follow what I'm

hesitant to outright say, to her, or to anyone. I still can't believe

Ranma goaded him into getting lost! I can't believe I didn't see it

coming! I can't believe Ryouga would fall for such an obvious trick! I

can't believe I was actually starting to like that idiot!



How am I supposed to know what's going on, now?



How am I supposed to be in control?



I can't even control myself, anymore. After I found out, when I ran

into that damn brother-in-law of mine, it was like I wasn't even

there. It was like another Nabiki Tendo had taken over. I hit him, and

hurt my hand for my trouble. There was only one way to hurt him - I

scheduled the match for as soon as Ryouga shows up. He bitched bout

it, of course, so I told him to tell someone who cared. Look at me.

I'm getting emotional over some guy. It's worse than that crush I had

on Kuno-chan freshman year!



I must have a weakness for morons.



Our whole family probably has the same problem. It's genetic.



The day's fly by, but nothing memorable happens. Nothing that makes me

care what goes on around me. Old Principal Kuno is back, but Ukyou and

Kuno and Mousse usually take care of him, and he generally leaves the

upperclassmen alone, anyway. I've hyped up the match, sent our fliers,

and gotten the preliminary reports on who would be betting on whom.

It's going to be in the soccer field, where they had their first

fight, and the bets were slightly in favor of Ranma. I spread some

information about his training with Cologne, and put rumors into

circulation where they need to be. The vote swings more in Ranma's

favor. I get some control back, but it isn't enough.



Damn it.



Where is he?



I'm not blind. Not really. I've watched Saotome and Shampoo closely

the last few weeks. They go out every Saturday and Tuesday, sometimes

to see a movie, sometimes they just walk. It doesn't matter. I'm not

blind. I can see that there's nothing between them - no spark, no

love, no hope if not for that thrice damned Amazon Law. I attacked him

the first few times, without even thinking. All it took was seeing

Shampoo hold him closely, and look at him like I've always dreamt of

her looking at me, and what little control I had over myself crashed

to pieces at my feet.



He beat me effortlessly.



I've been training - some of the hardest, more intense training of my

life, with Ukyou, and he's still just that much better than me. I

cursed him, at first. Then it became obvious that Shampoo was wasting

her time... Ranma didn't respond to her, and the distinct hurry behind

his movements and words belied his intentions. He wanted each

experience over with as quickly as possible so he could get back to

more important things.



Cologne had really screwed the pooch this time.



Instead of him growing closer to Shampoo, he was starting to see her

as more of an obstacle between him and his training than anything.

And, just like that, the anger began to dissipate. I watched them,

from afar, and saw how Shampoo gradually began to give up. They walked

in silence more often than not, but it was a nervous silence, an

unfamiliar silence: the silence that exists between strangers, because

that's what they were, and always would be. His heart had soared at

the thought, and the prospect, of Shampoo being his. Then, as always,

everything had come crashing down.



Stupid Mousse!



He doesn't think, that one. I don't need my failings pointed out, not

by anyone, and especially not by him! And especially not now! Does he

think I don't know that Ranma doesn't care about me? Does he think I

like trying to seduce him, this foolish foreigner male, when it should

be the other way around? I am Joketsuzoku, and I am proud! I don't

need Ranma, and I certainly don't need Mu Tzu.



Good riddance to him.



Good riddance to both of them.



I see Ukyou, and wave. She's nice enough, though she seems to be

spending more time with Mousse than with me. She waves back, and I see

just whom she's with. A smile comes unbidden, and I quickly finish

sweeping the front of the store. They don't wait, but it's all right.

I know where she's taking him. Mousse comes first, then my great

grandmother, and we head for Furinkan High. This charade between Ranma

and myself has gone on long enough - it ends here and now.



I walk past the gate, and into the school grounds.



There are students everywhere. I see Kuno, watching things closely,

next to Nabiki, in the section of students containing the juniors and

seniors. My eyes meet hers, and a strange feeling washes over me. She

looks almost happy, and yet, somehow disappointed. I know why. She

doesn't want this. She doesn't want the fight to come, and the cycle

to continue.



She understands.



She understands me.



She just doesn't like that things have to be the way they are. She

thinks that I want to lose, that deep down, I want to lose. That I

subconsciously don't think I'm worthy of winning, or of wielding the

power that I do. I denied it at first, but over the last month, I've

realized she's at least half right. The cycle continues, feeding on

itself, because I don't know any other way. I beat Ranma - he must

beat me. He beats me, and I must train and wander, until I can defeat

him. I have nothing else.



I had nothing else.



It is only half of the truth. I do what I do, because it must be done.

Histories are written about the soldiers who won their battles; but

songs are sung about the soldiers who fell in battle struggling for a

greater cause. What inspires us is the unfinished work, the dream of

picking up the fallen standard and taking it ten more feet up the

hill, knowing that even if you fall, the next man in line will take it

another ten feet, until finally the hill is taken. My greater cause,

my triumph and my failing, is to fight. And what is a fight, without

an enemy? What is life, without a goal?



Emptiness.



I look away from her, and to the rest of the crowd. I see Nabiki's

hirelings moving around, collecting bets, talking, and doing their

business. They remind me of vultures, but even vultures are a

necessary part of the world. I see Akane. She looks sad. At what, I do

not know, and cannot guess. Ukyou steps up to me, as I step onto the

soccer field. Her hands touch my shoulders, and I let her slip the

backpack off me.



"Good luck, sugar," I hear her, and then she's gone, disappeared into

the crowd. The wind starts to pick up, and I see Mousse, Shampoo, and

Cologne on the school wall. Shampoo is sitting on the edge, watching

intently. Mousse has his arms crossed, his long hair swaying in the

wind, and a gleam in his thick lenses. Cologne seems only mildly

interested, but I can see the very slight tension in her posture.



It's cloudy, but rain shouldn't be a major factor.



Ranma steps forward, his stride purposeful and slow. I measure his

movements. I know who he's been training with, and how long. With

practiced ease, I draw my umbrella, and plant it into the ground. My

senses are now a razor's edge, and as I stretch out my muscles, I see

Ranma do the same. The barest hint of his ki reaches me, and I am

surprised.



He is cold.



But there is a power behind the cold, like the chill wind from the

north. The crowd grows silent, as Ranma closes his eyes, takes a

stance, and opens them. I do the same, and feel the power burn for

release. The crowd backs away, almost as one. My hands are fists, now.



It Begins.



And it Ends.



Now.

















Author's Notes



Not much to say, really. Things have been moving towards this for some

time. Neither of them could stop this even if they wanted to.





             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'