The  characters  of the Ranma 1/2 universe  are  the
creation   and   possession  of  the  brilliant   Rumiko
Takahashi.  They  belong  to Rumiko  Takahashi  and  her
licensees   (Shogakukan   Inc.,   Kitty-Fuji   TV,   Viz
Communications   Inc.)  No  copyright  infringement   is
intended.


Many thanks to:
D-chan, for encouragement and invaluable time taken from
her own writing to pre-read for me.
Read D-chan's stories at:
http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/

And to Jiro Maeda for pre-reading and pointing out some
fundamental errors in my conception of Filipino fighting arts
among other things.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


           Lure the Tiger from the Mountains


************************************************
Chapter: 1
Man tian guo hai
(Cross the sea by fooling the sky)

      "Dammit old man, it ain't funny!" Ranma glared at
his father, convulsed in mirth on the dirt floor of an
abandoned warehouse in the Shanghai docks.  A pounding
rain drummed against the metal roof, spraying through
cracks and holes, turning portions of the floor into greasy
quagmires.

      "You . . .you . . ." The stocky figure pointed a
quivering hand at his "son", before going off into peals of
braying laughter.

      "Shut up!" Ranma smacked his father's bald head
with a rotting board, knowing better than to hit so hard an
object with his bare hand. He looked at the tiny, pale
appendage in disgust. Especially now. "This is all _your_
fault, anyway!"

      "H . . .how do you figure that b . . . boy," he started
to go off in convulsions again, then sobered slightly as his
son hefted a rock, sufficient to crack even his thick skull.
Pulling a dirty kerchief from around his neck he wiped
perspiration from his heavy face, then stuffed the cloth
carelessly in his pocket. "How 'bout gettin' drinky for your
ol' man," he smiled ingratiatingly, showing a shadow of the
masculine charm that had once been his pride, and his
downfall. When his son made no move to honor his request
he fumbled in the rotting trash that covered part of the floor
until he came up with a heavy jug and drank thirstily.

      "Criminy pop! Would you lay off that stuff?"
Ranma's voice cracked, a fact which almost sent his father
off again. "That's what got us in trouble in the first place.
We were doin' alright until you pissed off----"

      "Sur . . .ely you don't blame _me_ for our present
troubles," Genma replied, with such exquisite diction that it
was nearly impossible to tell he had consumed enough
alcohol to kill ten ordinary men.

      "I don't see no other fat thieving drunks around
here." Ranma replied nastily.

      "Show some respect boy," Genma made a hasty
swipe at his son, age and drink throwing off his aim. He
missed, landed hard and started blubbering.

      "Geeez, pop, I'm sorry," Ranma said sadly.  He
knelt beside his father, brushing him off, "why can't ya stay
off the sauce? You aint such a bad guy, when you're sober."

      Genma lifted his head, his breath heavy with the
smell of cheap rice-wine. "Ah, boy," he boasted blearily,
  ". . .you should have seen me when I was your age. I was
magnificent. No man could stand against me in those days,
no woman resist me." He puffed out his chest, which still
remained several inches less than the girth of his belly. "But
that was before . . .before . . ." He started crying again.

      "It's OK pops," his face tightened as he thought of
_her_, the woman who had turned his big, brave pop into
this drunken wreck of a man. "I'll take care of you." And
I'll never let another woman hurt you, he though grimly.
I'll never let one get her dirty claws into me, neither.

      "Tha's my boy. My good . . .boy!" He tried clumsily
to hug Ranma, causing the other to squeal and fall  back.

      "Don't _do_ that!" Onna-Ranma rubbed his breast,
shooting an angry glance at his father.

      "I'm sorry . . .sorry," Genma wept, blood shot eyes
taking in his "son's" petite form, flowing red-hair falling
below her softly flaring hips and amply filled tunic. "I'm
sorry, m'boy."

*****
    *****

      "Married?"  Tendou Nabiki almost dropped the dish
she was drying. "Are you kidding? I can't get married now.
I want to get into a good college."

      "I'm sorry to disagree with you father," the eldest
Tendou daughter put in, "but I really think Nabiki is too
young to be thinking of marriage," Tendou Soun directed a
speaking glance at Kasumi, who returned his gaze calmly.
"and I'm much too busy preparing for my own exams. Of
course, we will submit to your will,  as dutiful daughters
should." Soun pulled at a collar that was suddenly much too
tight.

      "What's going on?"

       Soun turned gratefully at the sound of his youngest
daughters voice, relief at being rescued from Kasumi's
"dutiful obedience", turning to dismay as he noted the heavy
walking stick in her hand.

      "Oh, my baby," tears gathered in his eyes. "You've
hurt yourself again. Kasumi," he turned back to his eldest,
"go get her medicine. Nabiki, run call the doctor----"

      "I'm on it, pop," Nabiki was already heading for the
phone, even before Soun finished speaking, while Kasumi,
her calm slightly ruffled, had opened the refrigerator and
was pulling out a plastic box containing an assortment of
bottles and small glass vials.

      "Would you cut that out," Tendou Akane
interrupted with fond exasperation. "Nabiki, put down the
phone. Kasumi," she limped forward, taking the box from
her sisters hand and returning it to it's place, "finish the
dishes. I'll help." She grabbed an apron from the counter-
top. "You wash, I'll dry."

      "You shouldn't exert yourself when you're hurt."

      "I'm fine, daddy." She shrugged, "I just
overextended a little on a spinning high-kick. No big deal."
She grinned, an expression that seemed to light the whole
room. "But I really blasted that concrete block. Wham----
boom!" she pulled her hands apart sharply. "Nothing but
dust."

      "I don't think it's safe for you to be doing such
strenuous things," Soun said worriedly. His spine firmed as
he came to a sudden decision. "I forbid you to use the
doujou anymore!"

      The temperature of the room dropped several
degrees and Kasumi stepped back nervously, while Nabiki
swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.

      "I'm heir to the Musabetsu kakutou Tendou-ryuu,"
Akane said coldly, looking at her father through narrowed
eyes. "If you want to forbid me the doujou, you have to
defeat me."

      Soun's shoulders slumped as his spine jellied. He
_might_ be able to out-point his daughter in technique, but
she'd almost certainly insist on a knock-out, and he couldn't
bring himself to even try. *Assuming it's even possible* a
tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind.

      Akane noted the look of misery on her father's face
and her own attitude softened almost instantly. "Daddy,"
she put an arm around his waist and hugged him tightly.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you, but I can't give up the
art."

      "I . . .I know baby," Soun hugged her back. "It's
just that I worry about you."

      "Now," Akane stepped back, wiping his eyes with
the edge of her gi, "what was this about . . .marriage?"

*****
  ******

      "I can't believe you did this," Ranma muttered,
stalking ahead of his father. "What were you _drinkin'_
anyway?"

      "I didn't have a drop," Genma retorted, offended
dignity in every line of his corpulent frame. "except for a
little warm sake. Strictly for medicinal purposes," he
hastened to add.  Those  few dozen cases of beer didn't
count, he thought. Beer wasn't really _drinking_.

       Swinging down the road, he easily matched his
son's pace, puffing only a tiny bit. He wasn't in prime shape
by any means, but several weeks of running for his life had
burned most of the liqueur from his system and added
muscle to his middle-aged body.  "And you better be glad I
did. . If we're going to remedy your . . .errr . . .
situation-----"

      "Curse, pop. It's a _curse_. It ain't no goddamn
'situation'."

      "Errr . . .yes. But in any event, to get back into
Qinghai,  we're going to need money, for . . .presents----"

      "Bribes, ya mean."

      "Please, son,"Genma affected a pained look. "You
simply _must_ learn a little tact."

      "Oh, like _you_ ever learned any." Ranma couldn't
believe what his old man had gotten him into. Even if it did
actually sounded like a workable plan, which was
frightening in itself.  The idea that Saotome Genma could
conceive of _and_ execute any action more complicated
than removing the cork from a wine bottle went against the
laws of nature. Pop was smart, Ranma knew, he just lacked
staying power.

      "In any event," Genma continued, uneasily aware
that his son's temperament, uneven at the best of times, was
balanced on a razor's edge since his . . .accident, "this will
give us a secure base of operations, food, shelter and a nice
bit of change to finance our return to China."

      "I dunno pop, it just seems too easy, the way you
say it."

      "It's _not_ easy," Genma growled. "You're going to
have to use a little charm, m'boy," Genma warned. "none of
your rough talk, be  polite ----"

      "Yeah, yeah. Don't be such a nag."

      "Don't gulp your food----"

      "Jeez pop, all I've got to do is sweet-talk some bitch
an' get her to fork over a little 'love token'." Ranma
snorted derisively at the thought. "Then you turn it into cash
an' we split. It's not like we ain't . . .haven't done this
before." He looked over his shoulder at his father. "
Besides, girls love fixin' stuff," his lip curled at the thought,
"learnin' me manners and how to talk right an' stuff just
makes 'em go all mushy."

      "Pay attention, boy,"Genma cuffed his son
affectionately on the head, "it's more involved this time.
You've got to act your part for weeks, maybe months. And
it's not something small  like a ring or a broach or a yatai.
It's a house and a doujou." Ranma nodded, only half
listening. "And _this_ time, you've got to marry the girl."

*****
    *****

      Soun put down the phone and dashed into the
kitchen. "Akane! Where are your sisters?"

      "Hmmm . . .what did you say?" The youngest
Tendou was measuring various powders into a blender. The
decimated remains of half a dozen fruits and vegetables
littered the table.

      "Your sisters. Where are----" The Tendou patriarch
finally noticed what his daughter was doing and turned a
sickly green colour. "Akane . . .baby . . .what is that?"

      "This?" she dumped a final measure of a blood-red
powder into the blender, cracked two eggs and dumped
them, shell and all into the machine, then set it to puree.
"This is my new and _improved_  mega-anti-oxidant super-
protein fruity-fizzy."Soun winced as the abused machine
clattered and bounced across the table, occasionally spitting
nasty mucilage-like bits from under the lid. Happily ignoring
the occasional splat of . . .something . . .hitting the wall
Akane counted down a full minute before she hit the off
button. With a sucking sound she pulled the lid free and
poured a glass full of  moss-brown, chunky gelatinous glop.
It settled sullenly into the glass, an occasional bubble
rupturing the crust as dissolved gasses boiled to the surface.
"Do you want some?" She thrust the glass at her father,
who fought an urge to scream like a girl and run.

      "No . . .no thank you." He wiped his brow as Akane
shrugged and removed the offending glass. If he _ever_
found the inhuman monster who had taught his daughter
about "health food", he'd skin them alive and roll them in
salt.

      "More for me, I guess," Akane took a healthy swig
and Soun felt his stomach turn over.

      "Y . . .your sisters. Do you know where they are?"
Soun asked weakly, watching with disbelief as the level in
the glass rapidly dropped.

      "Ahhh . . ." Akane wiped her mouth daintily and
swivelled to look at the wall clock. "Kasumi should be on
her way home from yobiko and Nabiki . . ." she chewed her
lip in thought. "It's Tuesday?" Her father nodded. "Then I
_think_ she's negotiating space for the pachinko machine
she just refurbished."

      Soun frowned at that. "I'm not sure I like Nabiki
associating with gamblers."

      "Mrs. Taniguchi's Tea Shop is hardly a gambling
den, daddy." Akane finished what remained in her glass with
a gulp, then poured what was left in the blender into her
empty glass. "Nabiki says that tea drinking widows are the
back-bone of the industry. Their husbands are dead, children
are grown, so they spend a lot of time and Yen on pachinko
and slots."

      "Slots?"

      "Slot machines daddy." She hurried on before Soun
could start on a tirade. "Nabiki knows what she's doing.
And she makes a good living at it. In a couple of years she'll
probably own a couple of parlors outright, instead of just
leasing space for her machines." That was the wrong thing
to say, as Soun's face clouded over.

      "I haven't been a very good father," Soun
confessed, shoulders slumping. "My little girl shouldn't have
to work to support us."

      "Nabiki enjoys it," Akane interjected. "She likes
making money and cutting deals. I think she likes the
challenge more than she does the money."

      "I should have been able to support you all . . ."
Soun disagreed. "but I . . ."

      "It's hard for a small school like ours to compete,
with the McDoujou's." Akane defended, using the name
she'd coined for the franchise martial arts studios. "People
go for the flashy name and easy belts. Nobody is dedicated
to the art anymore. A lot of it's my fault, anyway. If I'd only
won the All-Japan tournament, we'd have lots of students
now." She ducked her head in shame.

      "Don't you _ever_ blame yourself," Soun put his
hand under Akane's chin and tilted her head up, shocked
and saddened to see a suspicious glint in her eyes.  He
pretended not to notice. "You did a magnificent job----"

      "But I lost, daddy," Akane said softly. "I lost. No
one remembers the losers, only the winners." She gripped
his hand. "I promise I won't let you down again."

      "Oh, baby . . ."Soun said helplessly. "That's not
what I meant----"

      "I'm home!" Kasumi called from the front door.
"And I brought take-out . . ." she stuck her head into the
kitchen and paused as she felt the heavy atmosphere. "I
thought we'd have a treat tonight," she continued blithely,
deliberately ignoring the look on her fathers face, and the
way Akane was clenching her fists until the knuckles were
white, "so I got dim-sum."

      "Hey, where is everyone?" Nabiki called cheerily as
she burst into the house, only a few minutes behind her big-
sister, "Something smells . . .good." she faltered
momentarily on entering the kitchen and seeing her father's
troubled face. Kasumi made a  brief gesture behind her back
and Nabiki went on breezily, holding up a package wrapped
in newspaper. "Mrs. Taniguchi got in new produce today,
so I let her pay off her losses in hamachi and ebi."She
grinned. "The old lady just can't resist the sound of those
little steel balls."

      "Oh, how wonderful," Kasumi took the package of
yellow-tail and shrimp from Nabiki. "Well have a real feast."

      "You better plan on two more," Soun said, giving
Akane's shoulder a squeeze. "My old friend Genma called,
he and his son should be here in about an hour."

      "How . . .how . . .nice," Kasumi said brightly. "It
will be good for you to have your friend drop by for a few
hours."

      Soun opened his mouth to correct her, then stopped.
Maybe it would be better to wait and see . . .Yes. Better to
wait . . .

************************************************

Chapter: 2
Xiao li cang dao
(Conceal a dagger in a smile)


      "Ahhh . . .Ranma m'boy," Genma panted a little as
he was dragged in his son's wake, "don't you think we
should slow down a little?"

      "I don' like th' look of th' sky." he jerked a thumb in
the direction of some heavy low-hanging grey clouds. "I
wanna get under cover."

      "Well then," Genma huffed, "why don't we repair to
a shelter closer to hand." He pointed his free hand toward a
row of small shops lining the street.

      Ranma glanced in that direction and repressed a sigh
as he spied a brew-pub and wondered again at his father's
almost mystical ability to find ji-biru or ji-sake in the middle
of a wasteland. Genma had  once located a half-liter of
fermented mares-milk in the possession of a goat-herd, in
the middle of a snow-storm, half-way between hell and
nowhere as they were slogging through Kazakstan, looking
for the Hidden-Masters of the Swallow-fights-Tiger style.

      "We ain't stoppin' 'til we reach th' Tendou's."
Ranma groused, tightening his grip on his father's arm.  The
bar scene affected Genma like chumming for sharks,
except a shark had better table manners.

*****
  ******


      Kasumi tried to repress a guilty little tingle of
pleasure. When father's old friend and son had shown up
out of nowhere, she had been prepared to be polite, nothing
more. Despite her father's apparent hopes, she really
preferred _older_ men. But Ranma was so _yummy_
looking . . .

      "Please, Ranma-san . . .have another shrimp,"
Kasumi deftly took a particularly succulent specimen
between her chopsticks and offered it to the young martial
artist sitting on her right.

      "Oh, no I couldn', Kasumi-sama." Ranma replied,
smiling.

      Kasumi turned a delicate pink under the force of
Ranma's devastating smile. "You don't have to be so
formal, Ranma-san. And the shrimp is really very good;
please take some."

      "Then, you gotta'  call me Ranma . . .Kasumi-chan,"
the young martial artist turned his smile up a notch with
practiced ease, noting how Kasumi's colour deepened.

      "Have some of this steamed-custard," Nabiki
offered, a little breathlessly. She'd never _seen_ such a
gorgeous boy in her life. And his careless speech and style
of dress, so different from all the Fuurinkan _boys_, gave
him a slightly dangerous edge that she found a little
exciting.

      "I _really_ couldn' eat anymore," Ranma protested
with a grin. "Or, at least I shouldn'."


      "Ah, Tendou my old friend," Genma sighed from his
place beside the Saotome patriarch, "you are indeed a lucky
man to have two such lovely and accomplished daughters."

      "Ummm . . . I have _three_ lovely and accomplished
daughters," Soun corrected.

      "What . . ." Genma was on top of the world. Good
food, old friends . . .he took a deep, refreshing draft, from
his mug . . .cold sake . . . He ignored the angry looks
Ranma was shooting him, when no-one else could see.  The
unnatural boy had missed a couple of bottles from his
emergency stash and Genma was enjoying the moment
while he could.

      " . . .oh, yes, of course. Three daughters." He
dismissed the shadow sitting behind Soun, *like a retainer in
a samurai movie*, came the unbidden thought, and  held out
his bottle to his old friend. "But this is a celebration. The
uniting of our two schools. Drink with me!"

      The atmosphere in the room changed abruptly,
becoming brittle as glass.

      "Oh . . .I don't think Father wants any," Kasumi
offered softly.

      "Yeah," Nabiki half rose from where she was sitting,
"it doesn't agree with him."

      Ranma cursed softly to himself. Things had been
going pretty good up to now. This really _was_ a plush
layout, with lots of cash potential and he had the two girls
eating out of his hand. A few weeks, that was all it would
take, and then they could take the money and run for China.
Although Australia would be better for Genma. He didn't
_think_ the old man had any outstanding warrants there,
and he could catch up after he took care of his problem.
Just a few weeks, and the old-man was about to blow it,
because he couldn't stay away from the booze.

      "Nonsense," Genma disagreed heartily. "Sake is the
water of life. It fires the blood, quicken's the eye, makes
glad a sad heart----" he grabbed Soun's cup and tossed the
tea over his shoulder into the yard. "It honors the
  spirits," he  poured a generous splash into the now empty
container. "you wouldn't want to anger the spirits!" he
laughed, a little too loudly, at his own joke.

      "Father," Kasumi said softly, "You don't really want
any, do you?"

      "No . . .no of course not," Soun replied, looking
longingly at the proffered cup.

      "Friend Tendou!" Genma said over-loudly, "Friend
Tendou! Surely you are not going to let the women of you
house dictate to you." He shot Kasumi a venomous look
that caused her to recoil slightly.

      "Now then," Genma relaxed slightly, satisfied that
he'd put the girl in her proper place. "let's honor the spirits
and toast the joining of our houses." He took a generous
pull from his bottle, not wanting to take any chances with
the spirit world himself. "With Ranma's talent and your
doujou, the Musabetsu kakutou Saotome-ryuu will be world
famous in no time." He thrust the cup of sake at Soun.

      "It's my doujou." a quiet voice interjected from the
corner, opposite and slightly behind Soun.

      "What?" Genma's hand, holding the cup of sake,
froze inches from Soun's mouth.

      "It's my doujou," Akane repeated, dipping a slice of
yellow- tail into a bowl of sauce and popping it into her
mouth. Immediately her eyes teared and her whole body
broke out in a sweat. Picking up a small bottle she dumped
another three ounces of Habanero concentrate into the
sauce, bringing the Scoville rating to six million units, or
about three times that of police pepper spray.  With a small
moue of pleasure she reached for another piece of fish.

      "What do you mean, 'your doujou'!" Genma's voice
cracked and he stared at the girl who had been almost
invisible throughout the dinner. "Tendou, what does she
mean?"

      "Ummm . . .well, Akane is the heir to the Musabetsu
kakutou Tendou-ryuu," Soun explained, "and it only made
sense to give her the doujou."

      "But . . ." the cup fell from Genma's suddenly slack
hand and rolled across the table. "But . . ." he shook
himself, brain working furiously, then smiled broadly. "But
that's wonderful. You will make a fine wife for my Ranma.
And he will make the Musabetsu kakutou Sao . . .errr . . .
Tendou-ryuu the greatest in Japan."

      "How?" Akane examined a piece of yellow-tail
before selecting it for dipping.

      "How?" Genma parroted. "What do you mean,
how?"

      "How will Ranma make the Musabetsu kakutou
Sao . . .Tendou-ryuu," Akane carefully copied Genma's
slip, "the greatest in Japan?" She popped the fish between
her lips, shuddering from the endorphin kick as a ball of fire
exploded in her mouth.

      "Why . . .why through hard work and diligence.
With his expert instruction and the supremacy of his . . .errrr
. . . our combined ryuu's techniques, it is inevitable that our
. . . ummm . . . _this_ doujou will become the greatest in
Japan. Perhaps in the world!" He smiled benignly at the
small girl.

      "When I win the All Japan Tournament, the doujou
will have all the students we need," Akane countered, taking
a small sip of tea, her other hand fisted against her side, out
of site from the others. Ranma, however, noticed the slight
quivering of the muscles in her arm . . .

      *Dammit pop, let it slide.*

      But Genma's higher faculties were awash in sake
and he didn't notice the warning signs from Akane, nor hear
Ranma's silent plea.

      "Win the All Japan Tournament?" Genma chuckled
at the thought. "That's so cute, Tendou." he slapped his old
friend on the back. "Win th' All Jap-an Tournament."

      "What's so funny about that." Akane delivered in a
flat monotone.

      "Heh," Genma reached over and patted her
avuncularly on the shoulder, his hot, alcohol saturated
breath making her nose wrinkle in disgust. "you don't need
to fill your pretty little head with pretend games. My Ranma
will make sure you're taken care of."

      "Pretend?"

      A single word, so cold and hard Ranma was
surprised  it didn't draw blood. But the  old man was a little
thick when he'd been drinking. It was about time he tried to
shut  pop up. The only problem, when Genma was drinking,
the only sure way to close his mouth was with a club. Not
the best way to make a good impression on his future bride,
whoever she might be.

      "Pretend," Genma returned a bit testily. Little girls
should be seen and not heard and preferably not seen either.
"I've been a martial artist for longer than you've been alive
and a girl can't be a martial arts master." He gave her cane a
pointed glance. "Especially not a cripple."

      "Cripple?" Akane jabbed her chopsticks into her
bowl with such force the ceramic cracked.

      Kasumi paled a little at the sight of the slender
pieces of wood, quivering upright. Something she'd seen
only once before, after her mother's funeral.

      Genma was drunk enough to get angry and angry
enough to do something stupid. Furious at the deliberate
insult he lunged to his feet, Ranma only a fraction of a
second behind him. If he stopped Genma now, he could
blame it on the drink and perhaps salvage something of their
plan. Then he got a good look at Akane's face and
wondered if he wasn't saving more than just Genma's plan.

      Soun, not having a table in the way, moved even
faster than Ranma, stopping Genma with a deceptively
gentle looking hand to his chest.  Genma ooffed, and sat
down suddenly.

      "Genma, my old friend," Soun said mildly,  "I'm
certain Akane is sorry for any accidental insult." Soun
placed his other hand on Akane's leg, feeling the steel hard
muscles relax slightly under his touch.

      Nabiki, watching her baby sister's face, was certain
Akane was only sorry she broken a bowl and not Genma's
head.

      "And I'm sure my father is sorry that he let the sake
speak for him," Ranma offered, knowing that too much
drink was an acceptable excuse for otherwise inexcusable
behavior. Genma sobered suddenly as Ranma speared him
with a cold look.

      "Yes . . .yes of course." Genma stuttered, rubbing the
back of his head nervously. "I only meant . . ." he trailed off,
wondering what he could say that wouldn't make things
worse. "Ummmm . . .I only meant that . . .uhhhh . . .we have
an agreement, old friend," he fell back on his original
argument. "I've worked and sacrificed for ten years,
dedicating every waking hour to make Ranma the best
martial artist in the world . . ."

      Ranma resisted an urge to smack the old fraud.
_He'd_ worked and sacrificed? He'd worked and sacrificed
_Ranma_ for ten years, he meant.

      " . . .sacrificing my health and comfort. All with the
knowledge that I was working toward uniting our two
schools," Genma put all that remained of what once had been
a formidable personal charisma into his voice. "I . . .I have
been too long on the road, away from the civilizing influence
of the fairer sex," he smiled at Kasumi and was gratified to
see a softening in her eyes, and those of Nabiki as well. "The
thought that it is all in vain, that our great family arts that
have survived through the centuries might, at last die out . .
.it is almost too much to endure." He let his shoulders slump
artistically and was gratified to hear a gasp of alarm from
each of the two Tendou girls. Even better, Soun put an arm
around his shoulders to support him.

      "I suppose that I am old and foolish," Genma's voice
was low, almost a whisper. The tone of a man who has given
his all to achieve some noble goal and has nothing left to
give. "and have outlived my time." He drew himself up, a
tired old warrior who was beaten, but not defeated. "Ranma
and I will leave in the morning," He smiled, a heart
wrenching smile. "on another training journey. There is still
much for us to learn."

      *Damn* Ranma thought admiringly. *the old fart still
has it.* He didn't know why he was so surprised. He'd seen
Genma cuckold a Hong Kong banker while talking him out
of the contents of his safe, and not only get the banker to
carry the loot to the train station, but apologize that his wife
wasn't younger!

      The difficulty was, Genma would usually get greedy,
lazy, drunk or all three, before they made a score. In which
care they ran  like hell, a half-step ahead of a date with hot-
tar and goose-feathers.

      "There will be no talk of leaving, old friend." Soun
was on the verge of tears. "The agreement between us _will_
be honored. Akane," he gestured at his daughter, "will marry
Ranma and unite the ryuu."

      "DADDY!" Akane looked at her father, eyes filled
with betrayal.

      "Akane . . ."Soun spoke firmly to his youngest. "this
is more than an old agreement. I want to know that you will
be taken care of if anything happens to me."

      "Nothing is going to happen to you," Akane retorted.
"and that's no excuse for wanting me to marry _him_!" The
last was spoken in tones of loathing usually reserved for
finding half-of-something multi-legged and fuzzy in the
middle of a rice-ball.

      "Hey!" Ranma wasn't real pleased with this sudden
turn of events himself. Kasumi was a real sweetheart and
Nabiki had  possibilities. But as for _her_ . . .he'd rather eat
worms creamed on toast. Looking at Akane's face screwed
up in anger, the worms were looking downright appetizing.
Long years on the road, having to deal with Genma's
mistakes, clean up after him and act the peacemaker, enabled
him to control his tongue. Barely.

      "I hope I am around for many years to come," Soun
was trying to convince Akane, "but life is uncertain." His
face clouded over as he recalled his wife, dead for nearly a
decade. Akane saw the change, but resisted her impulse to
comfort him. Right now she needed her anger to give her
strength to fight. Sometimes it seemed all she had left was
anger. And shame.

      " Kasumi is going to go to medical school," Soun
nodded at his eldest, "and Nabiki is planing to buy Honshu
and turn it into a pachinko parlor," Nabiki just grinned at
that, "but if something happens to me, where will you go?
What will you do?"

      "I'll run the doujou ----" Akane began.

      "The death duties will take everything. It  will all
have to be sold, just to pay the tax." Soun stressed. "But if
you marry Ranma, the law allows me to _give_ the house,
doujou and grounds as a wedding gift. Then I'll know your
future is secure."

      Akane closed her mouth with a snap. She'd known
about the death duties, in a vague sort of way, but the
thought of her father's death; her mind shied from the
thought like a frightened horse.  But the doujou was _hers_.
The ryuu was _hers_!  She'd dedicated her life to a single
goal . . . mastering the Musabetsu kakutou. If she didn't have
that, she didn't have anything.

      "I can't marry some stranger." She objected as her
mind started working again.

      "He won't be a stranger after a while." Soun tried to
pint out reasonably.

      "I'm too young." she tried again.

      "Nonsense," Soun said, shuddering inside at the
thought of his baby, _any_ of his babies, with a . . .a man.
"You are both at the perfect age. You haven't gotten set in
your ways yet".

      "I won't marry a man who can't defeat me." She
countered, with absolute conviction.

      "What!" From Genma and Ranma, almost in stereo.

      "That was just a sort of joke," Soun objected,
recalling his daughters defiant pronouncement before the
near disaster that had almost---- "You can't really mean it."

      "Oh yes I did----do! I _do_ mean it." Akane spat.
"I'm a martial artist. If I'm going to marry someone in order
to save the Musabetsu kakutou Tendou-ryuu, he's got to be
better than I am, otherwise why bother?"

      Soun wanted to argue, but her reasoning was good.
More to the point he knew his daughter. If she wasn't as
stubborn as a block of granite, it was only because granite
had _some_ flexibility.  But he could see from the look in her
eye that if he pushed on this issue, he might as well set fire to
the doujou. Besides, she loved the art more than anything
else. If she and Ranma could find a common ground here, it
would be a good foundation to build a life together.

      "I agree," Soun got to his feet. Kasumi and Nabiki
looked as if someone had dropped the Tokyo Dome on
them, while Genma and Ranma looked only slightly less
stunned. "Let us go to the doujou, where Ranma," he gave
the young martial artist a narrow look, "will fight my
daughter for the privilege of marrying her."


************************************************


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