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The following two paragraphs are largely copy-and-pasted from the Author's 
Notes, which can be found after the fic. C&C is much appreciated, even 
Dracos/ECB-style ripping apart of the story.

     This is a draft. This is only a draft.Frankly, it really needs work in 
several places. If anyone wants to help me polish it, *PLEASE* do. That's why 
I'm sending this version to the FFML, after all.
     As you're reading this story, keep in mind that there's a lot more going 
on than I show. My avatar is not omniscient, and the story, after his 
introduction, anyway, is shown almost entirely from his perspective. Other 
than Nabiki and Kho Lon's conversation after he leaves, the only other 
perspective shifts are other people's initial reactions to seeing him, and 
they're there largely for effect.
     



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

	I awoke surrounded by warmth. As I poked my head through the shell and saw 
my surroundings, I had exactly one thing to say, something that truly surprised 
the phoenix hovering above her two eggs.
	"Oh, $%!*."

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

	Rebirth, Chapter One,

	a Pseudo-challengefic,

	by

	Aleh

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

	Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma Nibunnoichi. I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. I 
was not one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. I never met 
Tokugawa Ieyasu. I do not have a giant horde of gold stashed under a remote 
Chinese mountain. I don't have the ability to throw massive fireballs. I am not 
three thousand years old. If you really believed any of those things, please 
call 1-800-IAMNUTS. That's 1-800-426-6887, in case you were too far on an LSD 
trip to catch it the first time.

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

	It started as a relatively normal day in Nerima. Ranma and Akane had 
gotten into a fight over the quality (or lack thereof) of her cooking, and if it 
lacked the usual viciousness that many had become accustomed to, no one really 
noticed, save perhaps Kasumi and Nabiki.
	Things, however, swiftly changed. The sound of flapping wings interrupted 
the daily argument as a figure descended from the sky. Almost everyone present 
in the Tendou dojo recognized the figure's appearance as that of one of the 
Hououzanjin, a group who... weren't exactly welcome after their god-king, 
Saffron, had almost killed Akane.
	Ranma rapidly settled into a defensive stance on the porch, waiting to see 
what the visitor wanted, but not willing to take any unnecessary chances.

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

	Hououzan no Basil gently glided down, recognizing the Godslayer from the 
descriptions he had been given by his superior. As he landed, he tucked his 
wings behind him and made sure to assume an inoffensive stance. He wasn't a 
warrior, after all, and wouldn't stand a chance against Ranma in a fight.
	"Saotome Ranma?" he asked, looking at the young man standing on the Tendou 
porch.
	"Yeah," Ranma answered, still in his stance, "That's me."
	"I'm Basil of the Hououzan Couriers' Corps," Basil introduced himself, 
"I've been asked to deliver a message to you."
	Ranma blinked. "Huh?" he asked, relaxing his stance slightly.
	Basil, making sure not to make any sudden movements, pulled a scroll from 
the satchel he had slung over his shoulder. "I'm a messenger," Basil explained, 
"I was sent to deliver this."
	"Oh," Ranma said, dropping his stance.
	Basil walked over to Ranma, not doubting that he hadn't dropped his guard 
along with his stance, and handed Ranma the scroll. "Well," he said, "I'd better 
get back and tell Alex-sama that I've delivered his message."
	Ranma blinked again at the unfamiliar (and obviously not Chinese) name as 
Basil flew off.

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

	Kho Lon hopped across the rooftops, lost in thought. She was sorely 
disappointed in her great-granddaughter's actions at the failed wedding, 
especially given recent events.
	"Who would have thought?" she mused, "To actually survive a fight with 
Saffron..."
	It should be noted that Xian Pu hadn't told her everything that happened 
at Jusendou.
	"We *MUST* get him into the tribe!"

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

	At the Tendou residence, Ranma was sitting on the porch and reading the 
missive.
	"Damn," he said, "What does this mean?"
	Unfortunately for him, the message was written in archaic Japanese and 
used kanji that he wasn't familiar with.
	Just then, he heard a familiar cackle.
	"What is it, Muko-dono?" Kho Lon asked from his side.
	Ranma sighed. "Might as well tell you," he admitted, "Some guy calling 
himself 'Basil of the Hououzan Couriers' Corps' delivered this letter."
	Kho Lon blinked. "Basil? He's Lord Alexander's favorite. So, what does it 
say?"
	Ranma looked at Kho Lon oddly. "Lord Alexander?"
	"Saffron's twin brother," she said, "Although he doesn't like formality; 
he tells people to just call him Alex."
	Ranma's eyes widened in recognition of the nickname. "Basil said that he 
needed to tell someone he called 'Alex-sama' that he'd delivered his message."
	Kho Lon's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Quickly, Muko-dono. 
What does it say?"
	"Dunno," Ranma admitted, "I can't read it."
	Kho Lon blinked. Twice. "Well, mind if I look?"
	"Go ahead," he said, handing the scroll to Kho Lon.
	Kho Lon unfurled the scroll and began to read. As she did, her eyes began 
to widen again.
	"Muko-dono, it appears that Lord Alexander is in Japan and wishes to meet 
you."
	Ranma growled. "If he thinks that I'll let him try anything..."
	"Were Lord Alexander to 'try anything' as you put it, there's nothing you 
could do about it."
	"He can't be much more powerful than Saffron, can he?"
	Kho Lon sighed. "Just because you survived a fight with his brother..."
	Ranma's eyes narrowed. "How much did Mousse and Shampoo tell you about 
that fight?"
	"They told me everything, Muko-dono. I must admit that surviving against 
Saffron is an incredible feat."
	Ranma growled. "I didn't just survive that fight, Cologne. I won it. It 
ended with him ripped into shreds and reborn as an infant. They obviously left 
some things out, didn't they?"
	Kho Lon's eyes widened again. "You... killed... Saffron?"
	"That's what I said, Old Ghoul."
	"I will have to... talk to Xian Pu and Mu Tsu about this matter," she 
replied before changing the topic. "Still, it's not his prowess in combat that 
you would have to worry about, even though it is considerable."
	"So what would I have to worry about?"
	Kho Lon chuckled. "The Japanese police, of course."
	Ranma groaned.

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

	Casually flipping an omelet, I chatted over the phone. "So, how's the 
Theta project going?" I asked in an ancient dialect of what is now known as 
Cantonese.
	"Quite well, Alex," my assistant responded in the same dialect, "The 
mundanes have no knowledge of the ruins, and the restoration work is going quite 
well."
	"Good," I answered, "Our deadline's coming up soon. I don't want them to 
know about them until they're ready for the knowledge."
	"When will that be, anyway?" he inquired.
	I chuckled. "Right around when Epsilon starts paying dividends."
	My assistant laughed. "So, around when Hell freezes over, right?"
	"Well, at the rate they're exploring the Amazon rainforest, yeah. I wonder 
when they'll discover the Order."
	My assistant broke up laughing. "I must admit that it was one of your 
better practical jokes."
	"Yes, well, a little knowledge of the future can go a long way. I was 
fluent in English even before I learned our dialect."
	"Still, using your knowledge to found a priesthood in the middle of the 
Amazon rainforest and then calling it the 'Order of Explosive Flatulence'?"
	"I'll have you know that it's quite a lively group!"
	My assistant groaned. "With someone like *YOU* as their founder? OF COURSE 
THEY ARE!"
	Right then, the doorbell chimed. "Look," I finished, still chuckling, 
"I've got to go. He's here."
	"Okay, Alex," my assistant replied, "Bye."
	"Bye!"
	With that, I hung up and took the now-finished omelet off the grill before 
answering the door.

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

	Saotome Ranma stared. Whatever he had imagined Saffron's brother looking 
like, a tall, black-haired gaijin wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt covered by 
an apron (which had 'I LUV 2 COOK' embroidered on it) was *NOT* on the list. 
"Umm..." he said, scratching the back of his neck, "I'm sorry, I seem to have 
the wrong address..."
	Seeing his reaction, I burst into laughter. "No, Ranma," I said between 
chuckles, "Thou art in the right place. I'm Alexander of Hououzan, by the way."
	Ranma sweatdropped. "Err... why are you talking like that?"
	Now it was my turn to sweatdrop. "I didst learn thy tongue from a retainer 
of Tokugawa Ieyasu, I'm afraid. Mine speech may be a bit archaic as a result."
	Ranma facefaulted. Hard.
	"That must hurt," I commented idly.

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

	A few minutes later, Ranma was sitting at the kitchen counter as I 
finished preparing breakfast.
	"Omelet?" I asked, offering him a plate.
	Ranma looked at the food suspiciously. "How do I know it's not poisoned or 
something?"
	I sighed. "Ranma," I said, "I hath no intention of causing any harm to 
thee or thy friends. I wilst admit that I am rather angry with thy father, but I 
wilst take no action against him without thy consent. More to the point, 
howe'er..."
	With that, I grabbed a fork from my apron and took a bite. "See?"
	Ranma nodded before quickly devouring the offered treat. "Pretty good," he 
acknowledged in mid-bite.
	Seeing his appetite, I smiled. "Feel free to stop by whene'er thou doest 
so desire," I told him, "I didst come here for a reason, but seeing thee shalt 
not be a burden, e'en with thy appetite."
	Ranma blinked. "What?" he asked.
	I smiled. "Ranma, I doest hold no animosity towards thee for thy defeat of 
my brother. If anything, I am grateful to thee."
	Ranma stared in disbelief. "I *KILLED* your BROTHER! How could you..."
	I shook my head sadly. "Ranma, I didst warn Saffron that his course of 
action was foolish. He didst not listen. Mayhap 'tis mine curse, but I couldst 
not prevent what happened, and 'tis for the best. Saffron had been growing e'er 
more and more arrogant o'er time, and it was only a matter of time ere he didst 
think himself a god, if he didst not already. Hopefully, thy defeat of him didst 
teach him humility. Moreo'er, we art half-Phoenix. Death, to us, is merely a 
minor inconvenience."
	Ranma's eyes widened at the admission. "What do you mean 'half-Phoenix'? 
Saffron said that he was a Phoenix-god, and-"
	I frowned. "Then 'tis truly for the best that thou didst slay him when 
thou didst. The truth o' the matter is that our mother was the True Phoenix, the 
Guardian of Fire and Life. I may love mine brother, but his hubris couldst be 
our downfall one day. E'en with the resources I hath available to me, I doth not 
regard the prospect of cleaning up after one of his tantrums with much longing."
	Ranma blinked again. "Y'know, you're nothing like what I imagined."
	I smirked. "I hath been told that meeting me is oft a shock for those not 
of the Northern Faction."
	"Northern Faction?"
	"Mayhap 'twould be best if I explained another time," I replied, "'Tis a 
story that doest take a long time to tell. I wouldst like to update my speech 
somewhat afore I need to tell it in thy tongue."
	Ranma took a moment to puzzle out what I said before responding. "I 
s'ppose that's okay."
	"Anyhow, thy father hast promised thee to o'er half a dozen families o'er 
the years," I said, changing the topic somewhat.
	"*WHAT?!?*" he shouted in response, quite startled at the announcement.
	"Calm thyself, Ranma," I reassured him, "I didst merely mention this as a 
means o' bringing the conversation to mine next point."
	Ranma blinked.
	"Thou art in a dilemma most severe. Thy honor doest require thee to marry 
o'er seven different women, yet thou canst not marry more than one. E'en worse, 
thou may desire to marry another entirely, but thou canst not break any of the 
engagements without a severe loss of honor."
	Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I know," he answered soberly, "Believe me, I know."
	"Now, then," I continued, "I must ask thee one question. What doest thou 
think o' thy fianc�es?"
	Ranma blinked again. "Huh?"
	I smiled. "Ranma, I doest possess the means to break any o' the 
engagements that thou art involved in. Howe'er, I willst not use any o' my plans 
until thou hast decided on what thou doest want me to do."
	Ranma's eyes widened once more. "Are you serious?" he asked, before 
suddenly frowning. "What's the catch?"
	"Ranma," I reassured him, "There is no catch, at least as far as this 
offer is concerned. Howe'er, 'tis a good thing that thou art finally beginning 
to learn some suspicion."
	"Then... why?"
	I gave Ranma a friendly smile. "Ranma, like most of the others that thou 
doest know, I doth want something from thee. Unlike most of them, howe'er, I 
doest also care for what thou doest think, and will not force it on thee."
	Ranma cocked his head. "Umm... okay," he said, "I'm not good at askin' 
questions, but-"
	I interrupted him, having figured out what he was probably trying to say. 
"Thy friendship, Ranma, is the first thing that I doth desire. That cannot be 
forced."
	Ranma blinked.
	"The other things that I doest want, howe'er, art things that wouldst not 
make sense to thee, at least not without a long explanation. I doth not wish to 
force thee into marrying someone, howe'er, nor do I wish to harm thee."
	Ranma blinked again.
	"That being said, I doth have some gifts for thee."
	Ranma blinked another time. With that, I removed three items from my 
pocket.
	"First," I said, holding out a vial, "This is a potion which, when 
quaffed, willst cure thy curse."
	Before I could blink, it had vanished from my hand. "'Twill cure thy curse 
and thy curse alone," I added. "I didst not want to leave the others with motive 
enough to steal it from thee, nor didst I want thee tempted to give it to one 
who is not worthy o' the effort I didst spend in its making."
	In an instant, Ranma had swallowed its contents. "Ungh," he commented, his 
face turning blue as he gagged, "That tastes worse than Akane's cooking!"
	I shook my head. "Most true cures to Jusenkyo's touch hath drawbacks in 
abundance," I replied, "'tis an aspect o' Jusenkyo's magic that it doest not 
like to leave without extracting a final price. That potion's taste was its."
	Ranma blinked again.
	"Nannichuan water, for example, wouldst not remove the part o' the curse 
that doest cause thee to attract water. 'Twould no longer change thee, but thou 
wouldst constantly find thyself soaked. The Sacred Water of Togenkyou, had thou 
managed to obtain it, wouldst turn thee into a man, and thereby cured thy curse, 
but it wouldst not have done so totally. Thou wouldst still change, albeit from 
one form to another only slightly different. Thy cursed form wouldst have become 
man, but one slightly shorter, weaker, and more flexible than thy normal one, 
not to mention having a noticeably different appearance."
	"I... see," Ranma answered, almost entirely recovered from his gagging 
fit.
	"In this case, I didst spend quite some time trying to find a way to 
remove the curse totally. Howe'er, I couldst not find a way to do so without 
extracting some kind of price, hence the potion tasting so awful. It was o' 
necessity. I do apologize for that."
	Ranma was nearly in shock. Someone apologizing to *HIM?! And for something 
like *THAT*?!
	Seeing his expression, I burst into laughter. "What?" he asked, "What's so 
funny?"
	"The... look... on... thy face..."

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

	After I had recovered, I brought out the next item, a brown packet made 
out of wax paper.
	"Ranma," I said, looking him straight in the eye, "As I doest see it, thou 
hath three main problems in thy life."
	"Oh?"
	"Yes," I replied. "Thy curse, ere that potion, was one. Thy father is the 
second, and the third is the Neko-ken."
	Seeing his shudder at the mention of the third, I continued. "I didst give 
thee a cure for the first, but the others art not as easy. I canst aid thee in 
dealing with them, but I canst not do so for thee."
	Ranma blinked again, still off-balance.
	"Anyhow, thou doest need some leverage o'er thy father, some way to get 
him to do what thou doest need him to."
	Ranma nodded, internally trying to sort out what was happening.
	"This is an ancient Hououzanjin cure for baldness," I said, handing him 
the packet. "There art instructions within. I didst ask a native of thy country 
aid me in the translation, so it shouldst not be a problem."
	"Ya do realize that Oyaji's just gonna steal this, right?"
	I smirked. "That is the plan," I replied. "'Tis a cure for baldness, all 
right. 'Tis also the inspiration for those Chia Pets thou doest see from time to 
time."
	Ranma blinked.
	"Whilst it doest cure baldness, it doth not grow hair. It doest grow a 
magical variety o' Brussels sprouts."
	Finally getting the idea, Ranma started laughing along with me.
	"No," I said when we finally settled down, "What thy leverage shalt be is 
the cure for the cure, not the cure itself. Moreo'er, shouldst thy father try to 
steal it from me, I hath more than enough ways to deal with thieves. When thou 
art ready to cure him, thou needs just approach me and ask for the means to 
remove the growth from thy father's head. Asides, 't should be worth a few 
laughs in the meantime."
	"Why?" he inquired suspiciously. "Why're ya doin' this for me?"
	I looked at Ranma, my facial expression suddenly dead serious. "Ranma, I 
am not doing this for thee. Mine actions art for mine own goals, but helping 
thee is one means o' achieving them. The fact that thou doest benefit is merely 
an added bonus. Asides, I hath several promises to fulfill, and thou mayst be 
the means for my doing so. I wilst not force thee into anything, nor wilst I try 
to trick thee, but that is not to say that I doest not want anything from thee. 
Howe'er, the first and most important thing that I doest want is thy friendship. 
I wilst deal with thee fairly and openly, and any aid thou doest give me shalt 
be repaid in equal or greater measure. I doest hope that our relationship shalt 
be of benefit to us both."
	Ranma finally gave me a friendly smile. "Really?" he asked, sounding like 
a starving man who had just spotted an all-you-can-eat buffet.
	"Really," I affirmed. "For now, howe'er, I wouldst ask thee to think about 
thy fianc�es and how thou wouldst like to deal with them. Do not be o'er hasty, 
for once a course of action is chosen, not e'en I canst change it."
	"Thanks," he said, truly meaning it, "Thanks for everything."
	I smiled. "Think nothing o't. 'Twas my pleasure. Afore thou doest depart, 
howe'er, I wouldst ask something of thee."
	"What?" he asked, the suspicion creeping back into his voice.
	I shook my head. "Nothing of ill intent," I reassured him, handing him an 
envelope, "I merely wouldst ask if thou wouldst give this letter to Nabiki. 'Tis 
an invitation for her to come o'er here to discuss some matters. I doth wish to 
find someone to help me modernize mine Japanese, and she wouldst likely know 
someone who couldst help."
	"Oh," Ranma said, taking the letter and smiling again, "Sure. No problem."

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

	Around dinnertime, my doorbell rang again. Opening the door, I found 
Nabiki standing there, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cut-off shorts that left 
nothing whatsoever to the imagination.
	"Hello," I greeted.
	Nabiki blinked. "Err... I think I have the wrong house," she apologized.
	"No," I answered, "I didst invite thee, Tendou Nabiki. Alexander of 
Hououzan, at thy service."
	Nabiki facefaulted. "What's with the shirt?!"
	I smiled. "Doest thou like it?" I asked, looking down at the three 
embroidered kanji (and one kana) where a designer's label would normally be.
	Nabiki facefaulted again.
	"Verily, I doth suspect that 'hen na gaijin' doest accurately summarize 
what I am."
	Nabiki's face once again met the pavement. "Now I see what he meant by 
'not what he expected,' she muttered.
	"Most not of the Northern Faction doth have that reaction," I idly 
commented.
	"Northern Faction?"
	"'Tis a long story, but, in summary, those of the Northern Faction art 
mine followers, whilst the Southern Faction doest follow mine brother."
	"Oh," she replied.
	"Anyway," I said, stepping aside, "I doth neglect mine duties as a host. 
Please, come in."

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

	A few minutes later, we found ourselves sitting at the dinner table.
	"Anyhaps," I commented, "Doest thou have any ideas as to who couldst 
suffice as a tutor of sorts to help me update mine Japanese?"
	Nabiki blinked. "I could do it... for a price."
	I smirked. "Very well," I replied, sliding an envelope across the table.
	Nabiki blinked before opening it. "Are you serious?!" she asked, seeing 
the contents.
	"Yes," I answered. "'t may be o'erkill, but I doth not want any ill blood 
'twixt our clans. 'Tis part payment o' mine family's debt to thee o'er what 
Saffron didst attempt, 'tis part payment for thine services as a tutor for mine 
Japanese, and 'tis part an attempt to ease thy family's difficulties."
	Nabiki frowned. "We don't need charity."
	I smirked. "'Tis not charity, Nabiki. As I didst say, 'tis part recompense 
for any lingering difficulties caused by what Saffron didst attempt. I didst 
choose a monetary means o' doing so because o' thy family's financial 
difficulties. 'T must not be easy to do what thou hast done, and I doth seek to 
ease part o' thy family's troubles as recompense."
	Nabiki blinked, working through what I just said. Finally, she spoke up. 
"But... still, five billion yen?"
	"'Tis naught that I canst not afford," I assured her. "Mine investment 
portfolio is most profitable."
	Nabiki's facefault was most gratifying.

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

	Things continued rather uneventfully for the next few days. In the 
evenings, Nabiki would stop by and help me eliminate the anachronisms in my 
Japanese, and was amazed at the rapidity of my progress. In one serendipitous 
discovery, I found that Nabiki was nearly fluent in English, having studied it 
far more extensively than the average Japanese person in hopes of it aiding her 
career. I, of course, was extremely pleased with that fact, as English was my 
language of choice for most purposes.
	Eventually, I was, for the most part, satisfied with my Japanese, and was 
able to speak it with only occasional anachronisms. I continued to practice, of 
course, with Nabiki's help, and it would be a long time before I'd be totally 
satisfied, but it was enough that I would be able to leave the house without 
looking even stranger than I wanted to. So, that in mind, I entered Ucchan's 
Okonomiyaki.

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

	Kuonji Ukyou was, as usual, working the grill at her restaurant. It had 
been a pretty boring day; Ranma had yet to stop by. In fact, he had been almost 
avoiding her since the failed wedding.
	She was brought out of her thoughts by the entrance of an... unusual 
figure. True, he wasn't that odd by Nerima standards, but it wasn't every day 
that a tall, black-haired gaijin walked in, especially one wearing a polo shirt 
with 'Baka Ryo Taisan' custom-embroidered on it.
	"Hello," he casually greeted upon seeing her.
	"Hi," Ukyou replied cheerfully.
	A few seconds later, the figure was sitting at the counter, looking at the 
menu.
	"You know," he commented, "I've heard a lot about this place."
	"Oh?" Ukyou curiously inquired.
	"Yes. Actually, there's a three-thousand year old prophecy about it."
	Ukyou blinked. "What does it say?"
	Her customer smiled. "That you'd make really good okonomiyaki." Ukyou 
facefaulted. "Also that you'd be engaged to the greatest martial artist of his 
generation, that he'd eventually be forced to kill my brother... quite a bit, 
really."
	"Ranchan... is going to kill your brother?" Needless to say, Ukyou found 
the thought profoundly disturbing.
	He shook his head. "It already happened. I don't blame him for it; he 
didn't really have a choice. Besides, everything worked out in the end, and, 
frankly, I like him."
	Ukyou blinked. "How could it have worked out?!" she exclaimed in outrage, 
"Your brother is dead!"
	"I didn't say that, Ukyou," he clarified. "I said that Ranma killed him. 
He died... but he didn't stay dead. That was also part of the prophecy."
	This really intrigued Ukyou. "So, how do you know so much about that 
prophecy?" she asked, hoping that the answer would help.
	He just grinned. "Because I'm the one who wrote it," he remarked 
flippantly.
	A large bead of sweat ran down Ukyou's forehead. "How? I thought you said 
that it was three thousand years old!"
	Her customer's grin turned into a smirk. "Because, Ukyou, so am I."
	Ukyou facefaulted.

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

	As Ukyou's face hit the floor behind the grill, I winced in sympathy. 
"That must hurt," I commented in a somewhat sarcastic mixture of humor and 
sympathy.
	"Yeah," she answered, prying herself up, her battle spatula providing the 
necessary leverage, "well, it's not every day that you hear someone say that. 
So, how are you three thousand years old?"
	I shrugged. "Long lives run in the family."
	Ukyou lost her grip on her spatula, falling to the floor again.
	"Actually," I remarked, not wanting her to really injure herself, even 
though I knew that the risk was minimal, "I'm half-phoenix. When I die, I don't 
stay dead."
	"Oh," she responded, beginning to get up again. "So... did you come here 
just to tell me this, or was there a purpose?"
	"Of course," I replied, chuckling.
	"So," she asked, "What was it?"
	"Well, I've personally gotten confirmation of every part of that prophecy 
so far... all except one. So, I came here to find out if I was right all those 
years ago."
	Ukyou cocked her head in curiosity. "What part?"
	"The part that said that your okonomiyaki would taste really good, of 
course," I answered, "I'll take the house special."
	Once again, Ukyou facefaulted.

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

	Ukyou's okonomiyaki lived up to my expectations, easily being among the 
best I had ever tasted, and I made certain that she was aware of that fact. We 
chatted about various pleasantries, as she was a bit afraid of what the answer 
would be if she asked anything serious. That being said, I found her to be a 
charming hostess and pleasant company. I firmed my resolve to insure, regardless 
of the outcome of the situation with Ranma, she would suffer as little harm as 
possible.
	While I wasn't about to force Ranma to marry her -- that would be an even 
greater injustice -- I planned to help her out as best I could without betraying 
anyone's trust, especially Ranma's. Besides, it would be far worse in the long 
term if Ranma was forced into marriage with her, as she would be left living a 
lie. No, if Ranma decided on someone else, it would be for the best if I made 
the break as painless as possible, hopefully managing to salvage their 
friendship while I was at it. While nowhere near my highest priority, helping 
Ukyou was quickly added to the list.

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

	It was a few more days before I had any further contact with the Nerima 
Wrecking Crew, except for Nabiki's daily language lessons and the occasional 
written report from my subordinates. In general, nothing unusual happened, and I 
deliberately avoided a level of surveillance beyond what was strictly necessary 
to keep me informed of any major events. In general, my subordinates' reports 
were of the 'nothing noteworthy happening' variety. It was interesting to note 
that Ranma had not been by Ucchan's or the Nekohanten, but that was it. I took 
advantage of the peace to work on some of my own projects, and made considerable 
progress on several.
	Three days after my visit to Ucchan's, however, I answered my doorbell to 
find Saotome Ranma's face planted firmly on my porch at the sight of my 'Baka 
Soku Zan' T-shirt. No matter how many times I get that reaction from people, I 
never really tire of it. Of course, walking down the streets of Meiji-era Kyoto 
while wearing it was even funnier, but that's beside the point.

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

	After Ranma recovered from his facefault, I invited him in. As it was 
around dinnertime, I had some food ready to cook, and it was a simple matter to 
increase the portions to accommodate his inevitable appetite.
	"So, Ranma," I said to break the metaphorical ice as I started chopping a 
daikon, "What brings you here?"
	Ranma chuckled weakly. "Akane's cooking dinner."
	I chuckled a bit as I moved on to a cabbage. "Her cooking getting better? 
By all accounts, it's improving, especially her curry."
	Ranma gaped. "How'd you know that?" he asked.
	I nearly burst into laughter. "Ranma," I replied, putting down my knife, 
"I've been waiting to meet you for three thousand years. I've kept an eye on you 
over the years, yes, but most of my knowledge I've had since I was younger than 
you are now." My face suddenly turned serious. "I regret being unable to 
interfere, to help you, but if anyone can understand why I didn't, it's you."
	Ranma blinked as his face took on a thoughtful expression. "Why? I mean, 
if you knew about Jusenkyo, the Neko-ken..."
	I sighed. "I tried, Ranma, I tried. I... It's my curse, Ranma."
	"What?" he asked, his face showing his puzzlement, not to mention his 
curiosity and his surprise.
	My face, by this point, showed that I was dead serious. "I was born with 
considerable knowledge about the future, Ranma. Your life isn't the first thing 
that I've tried to change, but I've failed each and every time. My curse, Ranma, 
has been to know the future, but to be powerless to change it. Every time, 
Ranma, every single time that I've tried, no matter how hard my efforts, no 
matter how foolproof my plan, something has happened to derail my attempt."
	Ranma gaped, trying to get his mind around the sheer enormity of what I 
was saying.
	"I've watched friends die and been powerless to save them. I've seen 
people who I've admired suffer horrible fates and been unable to stop it. I've 
been forced to sit and watch as literally millions of innocent people were 
slaughtered, and all of my plans to save them went awry, sometimes even making 
things worse. I've learned to live with it, and even to take advantage of it at 
times, but my deepest regret has always been that I couldn't change those 
things, those needless tragedies. Don't get me wrong, Ranma. It's been worth it, 
to have been able to do what I've done, to see what I've seen, but sometimes, 
sometimes, I look back at it all and ask myself... was there anything I could 
have done different? Some way I could have beaten the odds and saved even one of 
those people? Even one path I could have taken that would have had better 
results?"
	Ranma had gained a horrified look as I described some of what I had been 
forced to endure.
	I sighed, seeing his expression, and took the opportunity to explain a 
little of my behavior. "That, I suppose, is why I've gone to so much effort in 
your case, Ranma. You're one of the exceptions, you see. I know your story, but 
I don't know the end. You're a chance for me to finally make a difference 
outside of my people, to correct some of the wrongs that I've seen. Maybe, maybe 
you can help me finally find closure, to finally bring an end to my impotence 
against fate. You, Ranma, are my first, best real chance to use my 
foreknowledge, to prove once and for all that it's made a difference. Sure, 
there's my people, but most of what I've done is give them the tools to pave 
their own path, and I could've done that just as easily, perhaps even more so, 
if I hadn't known what would happen. You, Ranma, are far, far more important to 
me than you'll ever know, both as a chance to finally use my curse to my 
advantage in a major way, to finally resolve the burden I've carried for far, 
far too long, and as perhaps the first person in thousands of years who I can 
look at without knowing that I was powerless to change their fate. The knowledge 
that someday I'd stand here and tell you this has been, at times, the only thing 
that's kept me going through the centuries, Ranma. There is nothing, *NOTHING* 
that I'd like more than to finally be able to help someone I've admired for 
longer than most people can even conceive of, Ranma... and the only real chance 
I have to do it is *YOU*."
	By this point, Ranma was gaping, both at the thought of someone actually 
wanting to help him, as well as at the sheer force of my emotion. Seeing that, I 
withdrew and resumed my cooking, the beginnings of a smile on my face.
	"No, Ranma, that's not everything, nor the only reason why I'm here and 
helping you, but it's by far the most important one. For now, though, I want you 
to take some time to digest what I just told you. The rest, I'll tell you when 
you've come to grips with what you already know."
	The rest of our conversation was relatively unimportant, but I think that 
that was when he finally began to trust me, even if just a little bit. It was 
certainly important for me, a chance to get a bit of the weight of the millennia 
off of my chest.

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

	The next day, Nabiki seemed somewhat distracted. I, of course, guessed the 
reason rather easily.
	"So," I started, in Japanese as usual, "You seem rather distracted today."
	Her eyes widened slightly as I continued. "How much did Ranma tell you?"
	Nabiki's surprise only lasted an instant before she began to chuckle. "I 
underestimated you," she replied. "It won't happen again."
	I smirked. "I don't know about that; people have been doing that all my 
life."
	Nabiki cocked her head. "I'll bet," she answered, "And to answer your 
question, everything. Almost from Day One, actually."
	I started laughing. "Let me guess," I mirthfully responded, "After Ranma 
returned the first time, he gave you my letter and told me that I 'wasn't what 
he expected'. After *YOU* returned, you asked him about it, and he told you that 
he didn't think I was trustworthy."
	Nabiki nodded in the affirmative, so I continued.
	"So, you asked him to tell you everything he could remember about what I 
said. He did, probably repeating a good part of it verbatim, and you decided to 
tutor me personally in hopes of finding more out."
	Nabiki nodded again.
	"But when you didn't find out very much, you had him stop by again. This 
time, he *DID* find out some stuff, and you found the recording from the 
microcassette recorder in his pocket to be quite interesting. You probably also 
suggested that he use Akane's cooking as an excuse, as my reaction would let you 
judge how much I knew about the situation here."
	Nabiki nearly gaped. "H... how?"
	I chuckled. "Do you really think that I didn't notice that recorder? I'll 
let you in on a little secret; this house is wired with *NORTHERN* technology. 
It's virtually impossible to sneak something like that in here without me 
knowing."
	Nabiki's eyes bugged out. "Northern technology?"
	I chuckled. "My knowledge of the future wasn't limited to history, 
Nabikichan. I knew quite a bit about technology, and given three thousand years 
of research, and the resources of even a small country, you can accomplish quite 
a bit. Even discounting our knowledge of magic, I'd say that my people - the 
Northerners, that is, not the Southerners - have at least fifty years or so 
before the rest of the world begins to catch up, and that's assuming that the US 
government gets its act together, which I don't find very likely. No," I 
answered her unspoken question, "It's not from my foreknowledge; I'm at the very 
limit of it now. In a year or so, my curse will be gone, and so will my ability 
to speak with absolute certainty about the future. As is, I can only tell you 
some basic things, such as to avoid airplanes in the US next month."
	Nabiki blinked. "Why?"
	I frowned. "Terrorist attack. Big one. Nothing I can do; I've already 
tried. The Pentagon will be seriously damaged, the World Trade Center destroyed, 
and several commercial planes used as human-guided missiles."
	Nabiki gasped in horror.
	I sighed in resignation. "This isn't the first time this has happened to 
me, you know, but it's probably the last, and it's certainly one of the worst. 
The only time I was more helpless was during World War Two."
	"I can see why you call it a curse," Nabiki answered, horrified.
	"It is," I resignedly replied, "But it's also a blessing. I've met Mozart, 
signed the American Declaration of Independence, given Oda Nobunaga a black 
eye..."
	Nabiki burst into laughter.
	"... Literally taunted a Chinese emperor to death, walked down the streets 
of Rome during the height of its Empire... Basically, like everything else, 
there's been good with the bad, Nabiki."
	She nodded in understanding.
	"Still, I have three truly great regrets, Nabiki."
	My companion motioned for me to continue.
	"First, I regret not being able to save some old friends of mine. You 
might have heard of them, actually. Most of them were there, in America back 
then... I haven't really found such a group of kindred spirits since the 
Founding Fathers died."
	Her eyes widened.
	"Yes," I said, "*THOSE* Founding Fathers. I was there, you know, during 
the American Revolutionary War. I helped them as much as I could, but there 
wasn't much I could do to affect things; I knew too much about their futures. 
Unfortunately, that included most of their deaths... and I couldn't change them. 
I especially regret not being able to save Thomas... Err, Thomas Jefferson, that 
is."
	Nabiki nearly gaped.
	"Secondly, I regret not being able to stop some of the things that 
happened in World War Two. Specifically, the Holocaust and the nuclear bombs 
dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki." My face took on a haunted expression. 
"Especially the Holocaust..."
	Nabiki uncharacteristically gave my hand a comforting squeeze. I, of 
course, was startled out of my reverie by the sheer unexpectedness of it.
	"Err..." I surprisedly said, "Thanks, Nabiki."
	"No problem," she responded, her eyes taking on a mischievous twinkle, 
"That'll be four thousand yen."
	We both broke up laughing at that. After a few moments, though, I cocked 
my head. "So, trying another approach, ne?" I asked.
	Nabiki's laughing suddenly stopped and an awkward pause ensued.
	"I've been around for a *LONG* time, Nabiki. I know all of those tricks. 
Your usual means either wouldn't work or would be too risky, so you deliberately 
lowered your emotional guard, hoping that it would let you get close enough to 
get into my confidence."
	Nabiki's eyes widened.
	"What you don't realize, though, Nabiki, is that it's completely 
unnecessary. I appreciate the effort, though, and don't blame you for trying." 
Seeing Nabiki's look of disbelief, I shrugged my shoulders. "It was genuine 
emotion, even if you had reasons for showing it. I can hardly blame you for 
that, after all. As for it not being necessary, the only reason I haven't 
already told you and Ranma everything is that I want you to have time to think 
about each piece of the puzzle. When you're done considering what I've told you 
so far, I'll tell you more. In other words, you don't need to trick me into 
taking you into my confidence for the simple reason that you're already there."
	Nabiki blinked. "Excuse me if I don't believe that," she answered after a 
moment.
	I chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything else," I mirthfully replied, "But 
it's the truth. Hmm..." I paused for a moment, before coming to my decision and 
removing a four-inch long figurine from my pocket.
	"Here," I said, handing it to Nabiki. "I was planning on giving it to you 
later, but it'll do for now."
	Nabiki looked at it, her face taking on a puzzled expression. "It's a 
panther statue. A rather realistic panther statue, but still... why are you 
giving it to me?"
	I shook my head. "It's an enchanted statue, Nabiki. I want you to give it 
to Ranma. It's one of my better works, actually. It senses fear, and becomes 
less detailed in response to it. It *ALSO* is enchanted to evoke cat images in 
the mind of someone who stares into its eyes. Again, the level of the imagery 
depends on the level of fear that it detects. In other words, it's the perfect 
tool for desentisation therapy."
	Nabiki blinked again.
	"It's for treating severe cases of ailurophobia, Nabiki, like Ranma's 
fear. If you don't trust me, go to Kho Lon. She'll confirm that it's what I say 
it is and that it doesn't have any... unpleasant surprises. Besides... ask her 
about me while you're at it. I've had dealings with the Joketsuzoku before, and 
while their perceptions tend to be a bit... skewed, it should give you some idea 
of how I work."
	"Okay," Nabiki slowly replied, "But..."
	I smirked. "We'll continue this discussion after you do. Don't worry about 
it."

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

	The next day, after school, I visited the Tendou dojo, a package in hand.
	"Why, hello," Kasumi greeted, apparently oblivious to my choice of 
apparel.
	"Hello," I replied. "Is Ranma in?"
	"Yes," she answered, "He is. Ara... who should I tell him is here?"
	I smiled. "I'm Alexander of Hououzan. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kasumi-
san."
	"Oh my," she exclaimed, her eyes actually widening slightly as she took in 
my appearance. Hey, the 'I signed the Declaration of Independence and all I got 
was this lousy T-shirt' print was probably *NOT* what she expected from a three 
thousand year-old Chinese head-of-state, especially as the message was written 
both in English and Japanese, the latter being added for the express purpose of 
insuring local comprehension. "Please," she continued, "Come in. I'll get Ranma-
kun right away."
	Thanking her, I stepped in, sitting at the table at Kasumi's polite 
insistence. Less than a minute later, Ranma stepped into the room, quickly 
followed by Nabiki and Akane. Of course, there was a mass facefault as they saw 
my shirt, but that was to be expected and they *DID* recover quickly.
	"Ahh, Alex, what are you doing here?" Ranma asked, maintaining his 
composure.
	I grinned evilly. "Several reasons, Ranma," I answered, "But before I 
start, how's your father doing?"
	Ranma's face acquired a confused expression. "He came back from somewhere 
late last night in rather bad shape. He's upstairs resting. Why'd you want to 
know?"
	My eyes acquired a bit of a twinkle at the news. "That's actually part of 
why I came. He tried to break into my house yesterday."
	"What?" Akane asked, nearly staring.
	I chuckled. "He tried to break into my house. I thought you should know; 
that's the first reason I came."
	Ranma's face was one of pure disgust. Honestly, you could practically read 
his mind just by watching his expression, and I'm not even all that good at 
it... In any event, Nabiki was the one to break the ensuing pause.
	"So, what's with the box?" she enquired, looking at the package that I had 
placed at my side when I sat down.
	I shrugged. "Nothing major, just something I thought you should see," I 
replied, opening it and placing a half-meter diameter, metallic disk on the 
table and pressing a small button on its top.
	"What's that?" Ranma asked, suddenly stepping back as a projection of a 
winged man appeared on top of it.
	"A holorecorder," I answered, "To be more specific, it's a program that's 
going to be aired tomorrow night. I managed to get an early copy."
	Nabiki and Ranma blinked, and I stared at the middle Tendou. "I *TOLD* you 
that our technology was more advanced than anything you have," I said, "And this 
incorporates several items of magic. Actually, it's what we call 'magitech'. We 
can do it with pure technology, but this has several advantages."
	Looking at Nabiki's meaningful gaze, I sighed. "Do you *REALLY* want to 
get into a discussion about Northern engineering," I said, before waving at the 
projected figure, who had begun to speak, "or do you want to watch?"
	Nabiki blinked again before settling down to watch, as Ranma and Akane 
joined her. Seeing that, I thumbed the volume control, allowing us to make out 
the words, which were, conveniently, in Japanese (of course, that was because 
the show was broadcast in ten different languages, and I had set the holovision 
to play the Japanese version).
	"... and welcome to the Universe's Funniest Noncommercial Holovids!"
	Nabiki facefaulted, recognizing the title.
	"I still think that 'Hououzan's Funniest Home Videos' would be a better 
title for that show," I muttered, "Oh well, can't win them all."
	Nabiki, who had begun to recover, facefaulted again.

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

	"Tonight, dear viewers, we have a rare treat for you, one of our 
occasional submissions from Lord Alexan-" The host of the holovision show was 
interrupted by being hit in the face by a custard pie. "Err," he continued, 
"From Alex."
	From where we were watching, Nabiki looked at me askance. I just shrugged.
	"I hate formality," I replied to the unspoken question.
	Once again, I was gratified to see Nabiki facefault.
	While we were exchanging those words, the announcer continued. 
"Apparently, Saotome Genma, a martial artist with a Shaomaoniichuan curse, 
attempted to break into Lo-"
	The announcer was interrupted by another custard pie.
	"Err... Alex's house," he corrected as soon as he managed to get his face 
into something approaching presentability, "To find the antidote to the Chia 
Hair Tonic."
	Nabiki facefaulted, recognizing *THAT* reference as well.
	"In any event, we now present... Lo... Err... Alex's surveillance holovid 
of the incident."
	The final time, I was gratified to see, the announcer managed to correct 
himself on his own.

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

	The holovision cut to a scene that was somewhat familiar to Nabiki, the 
side entrance to my house. As we watched, a shadowy figure made its way in, only 
to be stopped by a giant searchlight, which revealed it to be a soaked panda in 
a ratty white gi, with a green 'afro'-style growth on its head.
	As we watched, the panda was stopped by two oddly shaped figures, who I 
recognized as three-dimensional representations of Terrence and Phillip, 
characters from the show South Park. While Akane and Ranma were clueless, Nabiki 
finally got the reference when the music cut in... and nearly fell over with 
laughter.
	"Shut your f*cking face, uncle f*cker..."
	Terrence and Phillip quickly managed to get the struggling Genma into 
their dance as they reenacted the infamous scene from the South Park movie, 
complete with excessive amounts of methane. Genma, obviously nauseous, was swept 
along.
	"You're a c*ck-sucking, @$$-licking uncle f*cker..."
	The scene continued, only modified to include Genma, as Terrence and 
Phillip held him by the arms and continued dancing, their steps punctuated by 
gratuitous methane emission, and, at one point, Genma vomiting.
	"You're an uncle f*cker, yes it's true, nobody f*cks uncles quite like 
you..."
	As the song finished, we were treated to the sight of Genma being forcibly 
ejected from my house, propelled by a final burst of 'natural gas' from the 
Phillip-simulation.

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

	As Nabiki and I recovered from rolling on the floor with laughter at the 
sight, even though it was the third time I had seen it myself, Akane and Ranma 
simply stared wide-eyed at the display.
	"What?" I asked between residual chuckles.
	"What was that?!" Ranma finally inquired, finally finding his voice.
	I smirked, the effect spoiled by the fact that I was still chuckling 
despite myself. "A holographic projection of what happened to your father last 
night," I replied, deactivating the holorecorder.
	"I got that," Ranma flatly answered. "I mean, what happened?"
	I broke into a grin, the effect still spoiled by my chuckles, as Nabiki 
chimed in, occasionally stopping to chuckle some more. "Those were characters 
from a gaijin television show called 'South Park'," she told him, "They were 
reenacting a scene from a movie, using your father as a prop. I'm more 
interested in how Alex accomplished that."
	"You mean making them appear or the methane emissions?"
	"Both, please," she replied, "as well as getting them to use Genma like 
that."
	I smirked. "Modified holoprojector technology, combined with computer-
based effect generation and rendering and magic used to solidify their forms. 
The flatulence wasn't real, as you may have guessed, but another magitech 
projection, one that included olfactory stimuli. The controlling computer was 
programmed to incorporate any action by the burglar, Genma in this case, into 
the scene, working the choreography around their actions."
	Nabiki blinked, as did Ranma and Akane.
	Seeing Ranma and Akane's incomprehension (and Nabiki's partial 
understanding), I sighed. "Hououzan magitech," I clarified. "If you'd like the 
details, I could always pay for you to attend one of our engineering colleges... 
assuming you don't mind attending school in Jupiter orbit."
	Nabiki facefaulted as Ranma and Akane gaped.
	"What?" I asked. "Do you *REALLY* think that we've stayed in Hououzan all 
this time? Really. Most of our people are in various orbital habitats. We've 
been working on colonizing Alpha Centauri, but simple logistics have held that 
project up."
	Nabiki, who had begun to recover, promptly found her face planted in the 
ground again.
	"This is a three-thousand year old Chinese god-king?" Akane asked Ranma, 
somewhat disbelieving.
	I shrugged. "Three-thousand years old, sure. As for the rest, I've never 
claimed to be a god, and we're actually quite democratic these days."
	This time, it was Akane's turn to facefault.
	"You can keep the recorder, by the way."

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

	After I said my goodbyes, I returned home and resumed work on my project. 
Most of my tutoring session that night was spent laughing with Nabiki about some 
of Genma's antics. It served the purpose of helping me become more comfortable 
with my Japanese as we exchanged jokes in the language, and our mirth helped 
both of us with our accumulated stress levels.
	However, towards the end of the session, as she was recovering from a 
particularly humorous story about an incident when Genma accidentally grabbed 
the wrong temperature of water when pulling his 'just a cute li'l panda' act, 
Nabiki indicated that she wanted to discuss something serious.
	"Sure," I said, calming down, "What'd you want to ask?"
	"I talked to Cologne, you know," she began, beating around the bush.
	I raised an eyebrow. "And?"
	"Why didn't you tell me that that statue was a legendary artifact?"
	I facefaulted. "It's *WHAT?*"
	Nabiki gaped. "A legendary artifact. Kho Lon said that it was destined to 
belong to the greatest warrior of all time, someone who was both yin and yang, 
and a whole bunch of other stuff."
	I facefaulted again. "Geez, so *THAT'S* why Du She got me drunk that 
time."
	Nabiki blinked.
	"I made that statue around a thousand years ago," I explained, rubbing my 
forehead, "Shortly after the Joketsuzoku and I signed a peace treaty." I 
shrugged. "I agreed to help them out with a little... problem... and they... 
well, I'll tell you some other time. Anyway, I was still working on finishing 
the statue, and a Joketsuzoku named Du She and her sister Ba Gu were curious. I 
dismissed it at the time, but Du She was, basically, a bard. You know, the town 
storyteller. Anyway, I didn't tell them much, at least I don't remember telling 
them much, but shortly before I left, Du She asked me to tell her what I thought 
of some homemade wine."
	I chuckled at Nabiki's expression. "Nah, it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't 
until after I agreed that she revealed that she wanted me to try some of each 
batch she had brewing... and she had thirty batches. I've never had the world's 
best alcohol tolerance, and that stuff was *STRONG*. I don't remember much of 
the rest of the night, to be honest, but I thought that she was hoping to get me 
to knock her up."
	This time, Nabiki facefaulted. I burst into laughter.
	"The Joketsuzoku are constantly trying to get strong blood into the tribe, 
Nabiki. What do you think they'd do for my family's powers?"
	Nabiki, now recovered, nodded her head in understanding.
	"And one of the terms in that treaty was that the members of the Hououzan 
royal family would be exempt from their outsider laws. Their best chance of 
getting our blood into the tribe was to simply seduce one of us."
	I broke into a grin. "Of course, I thought that she'd failed; I *KNOW* 
that she didn't seduce me."
	Nabiki frowned. "How? You said that you don't remember much about what 
happened."
	"Well, Nabiki," I replied, lightly chuckling, "for one, simple reason."
	Nabiki raised an eyebrow.
	"Du She was twelve, and I'm not a pedophile."
	Nabiki facefaulted again.

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

	A few minutes later, after Nabiki had recovered, I thought back to the 
aftermath of that incident and began to chuckle.
	"What?" Nabiki asked, looking at me oddly.
	"Oh, not much," I replied, "Just remembering my revenge for that 
incident."
	Nabiki fell over.
	"It sure was funny when I told her just what her and her sister's names 
*REALLY* meant, especially in combination."
	Nabiki, halfway back to her feet, quirked an eyebrow.
	"Douche Bag."
	Nabiki lost her momentarily tenuous balance, her face impacting against 
the floor.

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

	"Hmm," I mused after hearing Nabiki relay the rest of what Kho Lon had 
told her. "Perhaps we should try a different approach."
	"What?" she asked, not understanding.
	"She didn't really answer your question, did she?" I replied.
	"Not really," Nabiki answered.
	"It's not terribly surprising, given my history with her people, but I was 
hoping that she'd be a bit more forthcoming," I stated. "What we need to do is 
to confront her with a situation where she can't accomplish anything by trying 
that."
	Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "How can we do that?" Nabiki queried, "I haven't 
been able to think of a way yet."
	"It's simple," I countered, "all we have to do is go together. When she 
tries to avoid something that's embarrassing to the Joketsuzoku, I'll just... 
ensure that she doesn't succeed. My knowledge will prevent that, and since your 
purpose is to learn about me, you'll learn as much from my reactions as from 
what she says."
	"And how will you do that?" she retorted, "If Cologne recognizes you, 
anything she says'll be worthless. How will I know that she's not just trying to 
flatter you or something?"
	I shrugged. "In my human form? Not terribly likely; I've almost always 
used my Hououzanjin form when dealing with her people. Besides," I paused for a 
second before coming to a decision. I quickly checked the security monitors and 
made a short gesture, engaging the house's highest defensive mode.
	Nabiki gasped in shock as the windows suddenly turned opaque and were 
barred by metal shutters, the doors disappeared, leaving the walls seamless, and 
a series of nasty-looking turrets dropped through holes in the ceiling.
	"This is one of our military's biggest secrets," I warned Nabiki. 
"Knowledge of this does not leave this room. I'm willing to trust you with it, 
but I want a *PROMISE* that you won't tell anyone that we have this capability."
	Nabiki, noting my seriousness, just nodded, her eyes tracking the turrets.
	"I'll need that out loud, Nabiki," I stated. "What I'm about to tell you 
is extremely sensitive information, and I'll need a recording of your promise to 
satisfy our laws."
	Nabiki blinked before nodding again, pausing for a few seconds to think, 
and speaking up. "I, Tendou Nabiki, hereby promise to maintain the strict 
confidentiality of any information given to me in the conversation subsequent to 
this promise until such time as Alexander of Hououzan gives me permission to do 
otherwise."
	I chuckled. "A simple 'OK' would have been enough," I told her.
	Nabiki facefaulted.

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

	Nabiki stared as I touched a panel, causing a small pendant to rise from a 
carefully hidden panel in my desk's surface. Fingering it gently, I held it out 
towards her, the platinum chain gleaming somewhat in the dim security lighting.
	"This is a class one disguise field generator," I stated. "It's almost 
entirely magical in nature, so I doubt that your governments will manage to 
duplicate it within the next few centuries, but it has a single, simple effect."
	Nabiki's eyes widened slightly at the name, beginning to get the 
implications of the device's name, as well as the reasons for the security 
surrounding the object.
	"When active, it prevents anyone watching the user from recognizing them 
from a description, photograph, holograph, or other recording. As I've never 
personally met Kho Lon, this will be enough to prevent her from realizing who I 
am."
	Nabiki's eyes widened even further at the description of the pendant's 
capabilities, now understanding why its existence was so secret, before asking a 
question.
	"You said it was a class one generator, right?" At my nod, she continued 
her question. "So, there's a class two?"
	I chuckled before nodding again. "Yes, actually. A class two generator is 
what I like to call a Clark Kent Device."
	Seeing her confusion, I decided to explain the reference. "When a class 
two field is active, unless you actually see the person activating the field, 
you won't recognize them as the same person as the one who did not have the 
active field, and it'll be nearly impossible to convince you that they're the 
same person. In effect, it allows the wearer to have two identities, one with 
the field active and one without."
	Nabiki blinked, still not catching the reference.
	Seeing that, I sighed. "Superman. Clark Kent. The only difference between 
the two is a pair of glasses, but no one seems to catch on that they're the same 
person."
	Nabiki blinked twice more before her eyes widened as she realized where 
the reference came from.
	"Not terribly familiar with American culture, are you?" I asked, 
chuckling.
	I was quite pleased at the sight of Nabiki facefaulting another time. 
Apparently, she still hadn't quite managed to get past her image of me as a 
three thousand year old Chinese head-of-state.

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

	A bit later, after I had placed the house's security back on its normal 
setting, Nabiki and I entered the Nekohanten, me wearing my pendant and its 
field active.
	"Nihao!" Xian Pu greeted cheerfully, before suddenly growing worried. "Oh, 
is Mercenary Girl. Who is friend?"
	"I'm Hououno Alex," I introduced, bowing to her as an equal.
	Xian Pu blinked before settling down, her usual enthusiasm noticeably 
absent, and showing us to a table.
	"We're here to see Elder Kho Lon," I continued, giving her a meaningful 
glance.
	"Xian Pu go get Hiba-chan," she replied, "Wait moment, ok?"
	I chuckled and nodded. As Xian Pu left, Nabiki turned toward me. "That 
field's almost scary," she said. "I mean, your name... and she still didn't 
recognize you..."
	Checking to ensure that no one was listening, I replied cautiously. "If 
you think that's bad, we had one incident with a class four field in the hands 
of a serial killer." I shuddered at the memory. "That was... nasty."
	Nabiki joined me in shuddering before stopping for a second to glance in 
my direction. "Wait, a class four field?"
	I shuddered again. "Yeah," I whispered, "I'll tell you later. Kho Lon's on 
her way."
	"Wha?" Nabiki asked, only to stop as the aforementioned old ghoul walked 
through the door, her ever-present cane in hand. "How?"
	I chuckled lightly, tapping my wrist and turning to whisper two words in 
her ear. "Watch. Scanner."
	Nabiki nodded her understanding as Kho Lon sat down on the opposite side 
of the table.
	"So, what brings you back to my humble establishment, Tendou Nabiki?" the 
centenarian inquired.
	"Oh," the mercenary Tendou replied, "I was hoping that you could actually 
answer my questions this time."
	Kho Lon raised an eyebrow at her confident tone before looking at me. "And 
your companion?" she asked curiously.
	Seeing Nabiki about to reply, I made a subtle gesture, stopping her, 
before replying myself. "I'm here to help her figure out the truth. After all, 
your perceptions are likely a bit... skewed."
	Kho Lon frowned. "And what makes you say that, child?"
	Having to put forth an actual effort to keep from bursting into laughter, 
I decided to answer the question in the same vein it was asked.
	"You're a centenarian matriarch from a backwater village in the middle of 
nowhere with delusions of grandeur," I replied calmly, infuriating said 
matriarch, "And, more importantly, you're going based on a three-thousand 
yearlong verbal history. Each generation likely adds some bias to the tales in 
the retelling, and the stories gradually bear less and less resemblance to the 
truth."
	Nabiki stared at me with wide eyes as Kho Lon manifested a visible battle 
aura.
	"Why, you... impudent male!" she nearly shouted at me, not fazing me in 
the slightest. I'd dealt with far worse from her ancestors, after all.
	"There isn't a major government in the world today that doesn't have the 
ability to duplicate what Alexander accomplished in the battle of Running Water 
Ford, Kho Lon. As a point of fact, most of them wouldn't even notice the 
effort."
	Kho Lon flinched, her aura sputtering somewhat.
	"Alex-san," Nabiki asked sheepishly, "Just what did he do at that battle?"
	I chuckled in memory before Kho Lon responded, her aura vanished as she 
desperately tried to preserve her people's dignity.
	"That's of no import," she said in dismissal, only to find the strategy 
absolutely futile.
	"If you don't tell her, I will," I insisted, "I'm a member of the 
Archivist's Society."
	Kho Lon nearly panicked as I mentioned that fact. "He used dark magic to 
disable most of our warriors. With them out of commission, his forces routed 
ours," she explained in panic.
	"Disable how?" Nabiki asked curiously, wondering why I had facefaulted.
	"They became ill, violently so. Many could not stand, and... well, the 
details are not pleasant. Worse, the curse didn't only affect our warriors; many 
of our men and children were also affected."
	Nabiki nearly glared at me, the effect spoiled by the fact that I had 
again fallen over.
	"Dark magic?" I answered as I recovered. "Please. He put a laxative in the 
village water supply."
	This time, it was Nabiki who facefaulted.
	Kho Lon cackled. "That indeed does make sense," she told me, "Our honored 
ancestors would likely have thought it was dark magic instead. Tell me, young 
one, why did they not see anything wrong with the water?"
	I smirked. "The laxative Alex used was tasteless, but quite potent. 
Amazing what a thousand years of chemical engineering can stumble upon, ne?"
	Kho Lon cackled again. "It's been far too long since I've dealt with a 
member of your honorable society," she replied, "I'd almost forgotten about how 
much effort you put into keeping your opponents off balance."
	Nodding, I answered with a traditional saying. "Not every battle is a 
fight, and not every fight is a battle. Wars are not merely waged with fists and 
blades, but with one's mind and spirit as well."
	"Lord Alexander's words to us after that battle, translated into modern 
Japanese," she explained to Nabiki, who had given me a curious look.
	"It's a traditional saying amongst the Northern faction of Hououzan," I 
corrected. "And I translated it from the language it is usually said in, not the 
dialect of Mandarin that Alexander used back then. Perhaps you would deign to 
answer Nabiki's questions now?"
	Once more, I heard Kho Lon cackle. "It would be futile to refuse or evade 
with one of your order here," she answered before turning towards Nabiki. "So, 
what did you wish to ask me?"
	"Well, for starters," Nabiki inquired, "What's the Archivist's Society?"
	"Perhaps your companion should answer that question," Kho Lon answered as 
I started chuckling.
	As Nabiki turned towards me, I decided to reveal another piece of the 
puzzle. "The Northern Hououzan Archivist's Society, also known as the NHAS or 
the Archivist's Society, is the current name of an organization founded 
approximately two thousand, eight hundred years ago by Alexander of Hououzan. At 
first," I explained, heading off Nabiki's question, "It was merely the Hououzan 
Archivist's Society, but after the conflict that resulted in the formation of 
the Northern and Southern factions, the name changed for reasons that should be 
obvious. The Society's purpose is the maintenance, upkeep, and expansion of the 
Northern Hououzan Archives, more commonly simply called the Archives, which are 
our people's greatest depository of knowledge."
	Nabiki blinked. "So they're a library?"
	I chuckled as Kho Lon began laughing. "Far from it, child," Kho Lon 
chided.
	I answered the question a bit more comprehensively. "The Archives are far, 
far more than a mere library," I stated, "They contain books, yes, but the 
copies stored there aren't available for casual perusal. As a point of fact, the 
only people allowed full access to the original texts stored in the Archives are 
those in charge of their maintenance. Special requests are made on occasion, and 
usually granted, but the publicly available, digital copies are enough for most 
purposes."
	"I don't see how that makes it 'more' than a library," Nabiki said flatly.
	I chuckled again. "That, however, is only part of what the Archives are. 
They contain everything from working prototypes of inventions that were never 
mass-produced to the greatest works of our archmages. They contain items of 
historical significance, and often even things that the general populous of the 
world thinks lost for all time. We have an actual, living colony of dodo birds 
in one of the sections, for example, complete with a simulated biosphere."
	This time, Nabiki began to get the idea.
	"In short, the Archives are our people's greatest treasure, something that 
is literally worth more to most of us than all of the gold in the world. They're 
a center for learning, an educational facility, a public forum, and far, far 
more all in one. My people value knowledge far more than most, and the Archives 
are where we go for it. What's more, as I mentioned, copies of most of the 
books, scrolls, and other such stored there are available to the general public. 
Quite a few of us grow up with their greatest ambition to be to make a unique, 
memorable contribution to the Archives as a way of making a mark on the world."
	By now, Nabiki had gotten the point. "So what's not publicly available?" 
she asked, nearly forgetting our original reason for coming here.
	"Military secrets, classified texts, and any items that the original 
author or contributor requested not to be made public. For the most part," I 
clarified, "the last category consists of diaries and journals, but it also 
includes spells and martial arts techniques contributed by people who didn't 
want their knowledge to die with them but had difficulty finding a worthy 
successor."
	Nabiki blinked.
	"Journals and such are generally made public at a time specified by the 
contributor, usually a specified period of time after that person's death. The 
spells and martial arts techniques, though, stay sealed until Alexander finds 
someone he considers both able to use them and trustworthy enough to not abuse 
them. Actually, the criteria are a bit more involved than that, but those are 
what they come down to, although they may also include there being no remaining 
living practitioners of the school from which the techniques came in the case of 
the martial arts scrolls."
	This time, Nabiki's eyes widened as something that I had said earlier 
clicked into place.
	Deciding to confirm her suspicions, I finished my explanation by saying, 
"Alexander has long hinted that he had someone in mind for the martial arts 
techniques, but very, very few people know who that person is."
	Nabiki's eyes became the size of dinner plates as she looked at me, her 
jaw nearly unhinged. When I gave her a tiny nod in confirmation, she let out a 
barely audible gasp before regaining her composure.
	Kho Lon watched us in confusion, not knowing who I was or what Nabiki and 
I had spoken of earlier, much less what I had told Ranma or what had been left 
unsaid between Nabiki and myself.
	"In any event," I concluded, "I don't think that's what you wanted to ask, 
or you would've done so earlier."
	My statement startled Nabiki out of her thoughts. "Yes, well, Elder, what 
do you think of Alexander of Hououzan?"
	Kho Lon started, having hoped to deflect the questions away from that 
topic. "Personally, you mean?"
	Nabiki nodded. "Of course. I'll ask you about your people's opinion 
later."
	Inwardly, I chuckled. This question served as a good springboard for and 
future questions, while avoiding the potential embarrassment that said future 
questions would entail.
	"He's..." she began, searching for the words to describe me, "He's an 
opponent to be feared and respected."
	"Why do you say he's to be feared?" Nabiki asked, hoping to get some 
specifics. Inwardly, I could follow her line of thought. She could guess, from 
what she knew, a good amount of why I would be respected, and as such she wasn't 
about to pursue that line of questioning when there was a far more promising 
line to use.
	"Tell me, Nabiki, when do you think that the battle of Running Water Ford 
occurred?" Kho Lon asked, attempting to avoid saying anything new.
	Nabiki frowned, seeing the tactic. "From my companion's comment, I'd say 
about two thousand years ago, give or take."
	I chuckled. "Closer to one thousand eight hundred, actually."
	"Also, tell me," Kho Lon continued, "What would you call someone who had 
access to the resources that Alex-dono here has already admitted that Alexander 
had back then?"
	I smiled. "Strange, of course," I interjected.
	Nabiki facefaulted at my response.
	"I mean, I already said that we stumbled upon the laxative that he used; 
that was pure chance. Anyone could have. No, the real question is, what would 
you think of someone who, given that laxative, would have thought of using it 
like that?"
	That effectively shut Kho Lon up. "No," I continued, "That's not why you 
think he's to be feared. Try again. Perhaps the Third Battle of Bakazan?"
	Nabiki's face hit the table.
	"Alexander named that mountain, didn't he?" she asked.
	I chuckled and nodded in reply as Kho Lon alternated between looking 
amused at the joke and scared at the reference. Finally, she decided to just get 
it over with.
	"It was around a thousand years ago. We were at war with Hououzan," she 
explained, "The reasons aren't really important-"
	I interrupted. "One of the Elders at the time had attempted to kill 
Alexander. He responded by stringing her from a twenty-foot post by her 
panties."
	Nabiki's face once again met the surface of her plate.
	"Did they even have panties back then?" she asked as she once again lifted 
her head.
	"Not outside Hououzan," I replied, "But one of our fashion designers had 
gotten to Alexander when he was rather inebriated, and... well..."
	As Nabiki picked her face up from yet another intimate meeting with the 
tabletop, she decided to chance another question. "Do I even want to know why 
the Elder in question was wearing them?"
	Kho Lon and I gave each other a meaningful glance before replying in 
unison. "No."
	Nabiki found herself having to pick herself up from yet another facefault.

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

	"I suppose," Kho Lon began, "that the tale starts with the Second Battle 
of Bakazan. Alexander's forces were routed, and Alexander was cornered with a 
small force of his elite guards."
	I frowned. "The Joketsuzoku had come up with a new training method. While 
Alexander knew that they'd develop it eventually, thanks to his foreknowledge, 
the timing of its introduction threw him off. You've heard of it, actually. It's 
called the 'Kacchu Tenshin Amaguriken'."
	Nabiki blinked.
	"It came a true surprise to him when that technique was invented... as a 
countermeasure to some of his own weapons," I finished.
	"The crossbows that shot only arrowheads were quite impressive from the 
accounts," Kho Lon replied, "And the exploding arrowheads were even more so."
	I facefaulted. "Bullets," I muttered, "They're called bullets. And they're 
shot by guns."
	Kho Lon glanced towards where Nabiki's head was now embedded in the table. 
"In any event," she continued, "The Amaguriken enabled our warriors to catch the 
arrowheads, despite the speed with which they were shot. With that out of the 
way, we decimated his army. He was cut off from resupply, and he and his guard 
hid in a cave while he attempted to magically summon reinforcements."
	"Radio," I remarked as I banged my head against the table in frustration, 
"He tried to call for help by radio."
	As Nabiki again attempted to recover from a facefault, Kho Lon decided to 
ignore the display as she continued. "A single party of our warriors managed to 
finish off his guards, including one who Alexander apparently considered a 
promising apprentice of some sort."
	"Engineer," I retorted, "He was probably the most promising electrical 
engineer of Alexander had ever met. What he was doing volunteering to be a 
member of Alexander's personal guard, I'll never know, but his loss set my 
people back decades if not centuries."
	"Err, yes," Kho Lon said, "In any event, that enraged Alexander to the 
point where he entered the battle himself. With a single blast of his energies, 
he destroyed our entire force and most of the mountain, leaving only what the 
Joketsuzoku of the time called the 'burning ground'."
	Kho Lon finished her story and took stock of her listeners. While Nabiki 
had a horrified expression on her face, probably at my imagined power, I was 
repeatedly banging my head against the table.
	"How many times do we have to tell you," I asked with a groan as I rubbed 
my forehead, "that there's a difference between a really big ki-blast and a 
thermonuclear warhead?"

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

	"So," Kho Lon asked after I managed to pry Nabiki's face out of the floor, 
"Is there anything else?"
	"Good heavens, no," I replied, "although I'll advise Nabiki to cut to the 
chase, so to speak; I don't want her to hurt herself from the inevitable 
facefaults that'll ensue if we try to explain the full history of your dealings 
with my people."
	Kho Lon's eyes narrowed in a combination of anger and confusion at the 
rather thickly veiled insult, but something (probably the memory of what 
happened the last time the Joketsuzoku attacked an Archivist) held her from 
doing much about it.
	"So, Nabiki," Kho Lon enquired of the now-recovered (for the most part) 
middle Tendou sister, what else do you want to ask?"
	Nabiki sighed as she realized that she'd have to tip her hand to get 
anywhere at this point.
	"I assume that you're aware that Alexander is in Tokyo," she began, 
continuing at Kho Lon's serious nod, "And that he's contacted Ranma."
	"Yes," Kho Lon stated, "Indeed I am. Muko-dono has flatly refused, 
however, to tell me what they discussed, although I suspect that his father's 
present... condition has something to do with it."
	"It is the sort of thing Alexander would do, isn't it? Almost as funny as 
the time he decided to-"
	I promptly found Kho Lon's hand over my mouth.
	"Some things should not be spoken of to outsiders," she warned.
	Moving my head slightly as Kho Lon's warning finished, I decided to take a 
risk. "You deserved it, you know. And besides, it was funny."
	Kho Lon shook her head. "I fail to see the humor in the matter. Enchanting 
our elders so their skin turned green was bad enough, but we still do not 
understand why your people insisted on calling Elder Xiao Pu 'Yoda' until the 
effects wore off."
	As I helped Nabiki get her face out of the indentation she had made in the 
table, I chuckled at the memory. "Whatever happened to not speaking of some 
things to outsiders? Besides, not only was that not an enchantment, but that 
wasn't the incident I was thinking of."
	"I know, Archivist," Kho Lon acknowledged, "but do you really think that 
we should tell her about *THAT* incident? I was trying to change the topic 
somewhat."
	I frowned. "Alexander likely will tell her about that incident at some 
point, so it doesn't really matter."
	Kho Lon's eyes widened as she stared at Nabiki. "You have been dealing 
with Lord Alexander?"
	Nabiki simply nodded.
	"That... changes matters," she stated wearily. "I wondered, when your 
friend introduced himself as an Archivist, how you had met one of his order, but 
this is much more serious than I had thought."
	I frowned. "Why is that?" I asked, somewhat insulted.
	"Because, Alex-dono, for all the respect your order has for him, dealing 
with him can be far more dangerous than demon-summoning. Demons, at least, do 
not have his sense of humor."
	I shrugged my shoulders. "After all these years, you still haven't figured 
out why he deals with your tribe as he does, do you?"
	Kho Lon nearly glared at me. "We have treated him with every courtesy and 
given him nearly as much respect as we do our own revered ancestor-spirits, and 
he repays us by using us as... toys for his good humor!" The burst of anger 
quickly fled her, however, and her face acquired a nearly frightened expression.
	I frowned again, my good spirits nearly gone. "You've treated him with 
'every courtesy', yes, but did it ever occur to you that he might not want it? 
Think back to your history. The Joketsuzoku who he's treated with the most 
respect have been those who treat him with the least. He has, more than once, 
called your people 'stuck up', among other, less pleasant things because of that 
fact. Every time he showed his displeasure, though, your people merely took it 
as a sign that he was upset about some perceived lack of respect and strove to 
correct it, even going so far as to punish those who he respected, and even 
liked, among your people. Is it any wonder that he resents that? He's said it 
more than once to your people: he hates formality. He hates useless ceremony. 
Your people have yet to understand that, choosing instead to treat him like his 
overly-pompous brother."
	Kho Lon blinked, the realization setting in as I grew more and more upset 
as my speech continued.
	"Hopefully this speech will get through your thick skulls for once," I 
continued, raising my voice, "because I'm sick and tired of having to deal with 
it!"
	With that, I angrily flicked my pendant, shutting the field effect off, 
and assumed my Hououzanjin form. Kho Lon gasped in shock and recognition at the 
sight, realizing just who was talking.
	"Or perhaps, I should say, I've said it more than once to your people. How 
many times have I had to rescue someone I respected or liked from your elder's 
punishments for 'disrespecting' me, or for 'being rude' or 'overly familiar' 
with me, only to have your elders take it as either a show of mercy or a whim? I 
don't do things on whim, and I most certainly do not go out of my way to show 
mercy! As if that wasn't enough, your people have repeatedly offended me through 
other means. Every time you call someone a 'mere male' or any of your other such 
insults, how do you think I take it? What do you think I am? I happen to be 
male, thank you very much, and quite proud of the fact. When you insult 
'outsiders', how do you think I take it? I'm certainly not Joketsuzoku! So, you 
go overboard to show me your so-called 'respect' in manners that I thoroughly 
detest, while in every manner that counts, you shower me with nothing but 
insults! And then you have the sheer audacity to claim that I am using you as 
'toys' for my 'good humor'? I'll let you in on a little secret, 'Elder'. My 
pranks on your people have had many purposes, but my 'good humor' has always 
been only a secondary consideration. Tell me, 'Elder' Kho Lon, why is it that I 
did what I did to your Elders that day? Do your histories include what had 
happened barely a week beforehand?"
	Kho Lon shook her head in denial as the gears of comprehension began to 
turn in that thick Joketsuzoku skull of hers.
	"Du She, one of your warriors and a promising young storyteller, was 
publicly flogged for 'daring' to welcome me to your village without the 'proper 
respect', despite the fact that I had *SPECIFICALLY ASKED HER* to omit the 
honorifics you usually used. True, that was nearly five years before, but we had 
kept a correspondence of sorts during that time. She, a perfectly innocent girl, 
was merely welcoming an old friend who she hadn't seen in a long time. It was 
only my *PERSONAL INTERVENTION* which kept her from being *KILLED* for that! So, 
Kho Lon, do you really think that I was merely using you as 'toys for my good 
humor' when I placed that drug in the Elder's Fountain?"
	Nabiki, sitting next to where I had stood up during my rant, was in 
something of a shocked state both as she recognized the name and as she saw a 
side of me that she hadn't seen before.
	"My jokes serve several purposes, 'Elder'. I use them as a method of 
reducing tension, of helping both myself and others from taking themselves too 
seriously. I use them as a method of teaching, by showing a person their flaws 
in a way that allows them to accept them with good humor. If you take yourself 
too seriously or don't want to improve yourself, of course, it fails, but either 
way, it's entertaining to watch and far less harmful than many of the 
alternatives. Finally, they act as a method to keep my opponents off-balance, 
allowing me to take advantage of their confusion and, just as importantly, the 
fact that they inevitably underestimate me as a result. Now, think of what I've 
said, and hopefully your village will begin to understand. After all," I 
finished as I literally flew out through her door," I'd hate to have to destroy 
your people after all the effort I've put into redeeming them."

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

	Leaning against a telephone pole nearly half a mile away, once again in my 
human form, I sighed.
	"I shouldn't have lost it like that," I muttered to myself as I rubbed my 
forehead. "Still, hopefully it'll get through their thick skulls this time."
	"Something the matter, Alex?" someone asked from next to me.
	Startled, I turned towards the speaker, only to smile as I recognized him. 
"Ken! It's been a while! How've things been going?"
	My companion, to all appearances a young man barely past his twenty-fifth 
birthday, smiled.
	"Almost a hundred years. You haven't changed a bit."
	I shrugged. "Neither have you."
	Ken chuckled, finding my statement amusing. "True, but that's what I get 
for being your apprentice for my teenage years."
	I laughed at the crack. "Touch�," I replied. "So, what brings you to 
Nerima?"
	Ken cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "The Prophecies, of course. I 
wanted to check out a few of them."
	"Ucchan's?"
	"Of course," Ken agreed. "Her father is quite the chef as well; I want to 
see if she's surpassed him."
	I grinned. "It's a matter of opinion," I responded, "although I think that 
Ukyou's better company."
	Ken blinked.
	"And if you decide to marry her, I still have that pill. I *DO* want 
great-grand-godchildren, you know."
	My godson's oldest child facefaulted. As he got up, he decided to change 
the topic.
	"So, what had you so shaken up?"
	I sighed as I remembered what had happened. "Oh, just your grandmother's 
people. Kho Lon had the audacity to accuse me of using them as 'toys'."
	Ken groaned.
	"That wasn't enough to set me off, though, and you know it. She just *HAD* 
to bring up my revenge for what they did to your grandmother as an example."
	Ken palmed his face. "You didn't hurt them too badly, did you?"
	I smirked as I saw his expression. "Nah," I answered, "I just gave her one 
of my lectures and flew out."
	Ken sighed in relief. "Well, I'll see you around," he finished.
	"Visit more often, ok?" I told him before we parted and I headed home.
	"Sure thing, Alex."

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

	Back in the Nekohanten, Kho Lon stared at where I had made my exit.
	"So, that's why," she whispered, probably to herself.
	Of course, Nabiki was quick to pounce on that. "Why what?" she asked, 
hoping that this would provide a bit of a clue as to her companion's behavior.
	"The day of that incident," Kho Lon replied, "Lord Alexander... err... 
perhaps I should leave out the honorific... anyway, earlier in that day, 
Alexander invited one of our warriors, one who from what he said and our own 
accounts I must assume was this 'Du She', to his lands. She accepted, and stayed 
in his home for a while, where, by all accounts, he treated her as an honored 
guest. Eventually, she married one of his guardsmen and moved into his quarters, 
only to die in childbirth two years later."
	Nabiki sighed; that didn't provide many clues.
	"Of course, our elders at the time were far too busy dealing with his 
little joke to do anything about her defection, not that it mattered much to 
them. Du She was only a moderately skilled warrior despite her age, and had 
barely begun learning the higher forms of our Art, much less the secret 
techniques, and was of almost no status in the village. While it was speculated 
on for a while, the whole affair was ultimately considered unimportant. I only 
know about it myself because I made it a point in my youth to know every detail 
of Alexander's dealings with our people in hopes of understanding him. I see 
now, however, that our revered ancestors' accounts apparently leave much to be 
desired."
	Had I been listening, I would have fallen over in shock.
	"So," Nabiki asked, "What can you tell me about him? I suppose that the 
most important question is if his word can be trusted."
	Kho Lon nearly fell over with laughter. "In over three thousand years of 
Joketsuzoku history, Alexander of Hououzan has never lied, broken his word, 
bluffed, or made an idle threat."
	Nabiki blinked; I was apparently even more honest than she had thought 
possible.
	"So when he stated that the most important thing he wanted from Ranma was 
his friendship, he was telling the truth?"
	Kho Lon's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Tendou-san, if he 
truly made that statement, it means far more than you think."
	Nabiki's eyes narrowed at that. "What makes you say that?"
	"Tendou-san, Alexander does not have many personal friends, and those that 
he does have are those that he respects and admires. The fact that he was 
willing to make that offer to Muko-dono would mean that he regards him as 
someone worthy of his trust and loyalty, something that he doesn't give very 
easily."
	Nabiki blinked. "Loyalty?" she inquired.
	"Oh, yes," Kho Lon replied with a cackle, "loyalty. Tell me, Tendou-san, 
what was it that made Alexander destroy an entire mountain just to slay a few 
dozen of our warriors?"
	"Destroy a mountain?" Nabiki asked, then realized what Kho Lon was talking 
about. "You mean Bakazan, right?"
	At Kho Lon's nod, Nabiki decided to risk answering. "From what he said, it 
was anger."
	"Perhaps," Kho Lon agreed, "But he does not anger often, or easily. It 
took the death of someone who he considered a promising young apprentice, 
someone who he respected, to anger him so, and it is that respect which is key 
to earning his friendship."
	Nabiki blinked again; she hadn't thought of it like that. "How do you know 
that about him?" she asked, hoping to find just how reliable Kho Lon's answer 
was.
	"Tendou-san, the Joketsuzoku have three thousand years' experience in 
dealing with Alexander. While our histories may be... skewed in some respects, 
that is one thing that they make clear time and time again."
	Once again, had I been listening, I would have fallen over at the 
admission.
	"Of course, it doesn't hurt that he held a 'How to Earn My Friendship' 
seminar five hundred years ago, or that we have transcripts of it."
	Nabiki facefaulted.

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

	"Aiya!" Xian Pu exclaimed as she returned to the room from shelving the 
remaining supplies from the day's business (and, incidentally, bashing a certain 
duck) just in time to hear the tail end of Kho Lon's speech. "Xian Pu thought 
Hiba-chan say what Alexander say in that seminar not true!"
	Kho Lon sighed. "I thought that, true," she admitted.
	"Wait," Nabiki interrupted, "I thought you said that Alexander doesn't 
lie."
	"True," Kho Lon replied, "But our images of ourselves do not always meet 
with reality. Alexander of Hououzan, for all his power and knowledge, is still 
fallible. Were he not, the Joketsuzoku would never have been able to catch him 
off guard at Second Bakazan, not to mention any of the other military victories 
we've had against him over the years."
	Nabiki sighed. "So that's it. You know, he's right. Your people really did 
deserve how he treated you."
	Kho Lon nodded gravely. "I am beginning to think so," she acknowledged.
	At that point, the Nekohanten's doorbell rang.
	"Nihao," Xian Pu greeted, "We closed now, so come back later, OK?"
	"Err... I'm not here for the restaurant," a male voice returned, "I have a 
delivery for a... Cologne of the Joketsuzoku?"
	"One second," Xian Pu replied, "Hiba-chan be right here."
	Kho Lon excused herself, only to groan as she saw the uniform of the 
delivery person, then walked back to the table, a package that was almost as 
large as she was held in one hand.
	"What is it?" Nabiki asked curiously as Kho Lon set the box between their 
seats before standing on her own and beginning to unwrap it.
	"I know not," Kho Lon answered, "Other than that this was the postal 
service used."
	With that, Kho Lon handed Nabiki the package's label, which contained an 
embedded logo. Upon seeing it, Nabiki found her face hitting the floor.
	"Northern Hououzan Express," the logo read, "Anywhere in the solar system 
in ten standard hours or your money back!"
	Unfortunately, as Kho Lon examined the contents, they both found 
themselves facefaulting. The package was a ten-gallon jug of fresh prune juice.

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

	A.N.:
	This is a draft. This is only a draft. Frankly, it really needs work in 
several places. On the other hand, I have several other pranks, both on the NWC 
and modern society, in the planning, and the plot, as such, will be taking off 
from here.
	If anyone wants to help me polish it, *PLEASE* do. That's why I'm sending 
this version to the FFML, after all.
	Also, any questions anyone has, I'd be glad to answer to a point. I do, 
after all, want some of my plans to come as a surprise.
	As you're reading this story, keep in mind that there's a lot more going 
on than I show. My avatar is not omniscient, and the story, after his 
introduction, anyway, is shown almost entirely from his perspective. Other than 
Nabiki and Kho Lon's conversation after he leaves, the only other perspective 
shifts are other people's initial reactions to seeing him, and they're there 
largely for effect.
	Oh, before I forget, my avatar's speech patterns at the beginning are 
deliberately anachronistic. I know that archaic Japanese doesn't sound at all 
like that, but I wanted to achieve that effect in *ENGLISH*. I admit freely that 
I'm not the best at writing in that style, but the simple solution, having my 
avatar speak modern Japanese at the beginning, was a cop-out. I'm already going 
far enough with how quickly he learns it (and I'm going to explain *WHY* he 
learns it so quickly later), although I'm hoping to have the occasional 
anachronism pop up in his Japanese at various points. If anyone has any 
suggestions about the where, when and how, please make them.
	Finally, the origins of this fic. I call this a pseudo-challengefic 
because while it's written in response to three different challenges, it doesn't 
hold to all of the terms of two of them. Those of you who frequent the Delphi 
Forums may remember one of those challenges, actually, although I forgot who 
suggested it. The other two challenges were private ones, and I found that my 
response to the Forum challenge was close enough to incorporate elements of the 
other two. Anyone who wants to know the terms of those two challenges can feel 
free to e-mail me about them, although they were general fiction challenges, not 
fanfic challenges, and as I mentioned, privately sent to me.


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