Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to
her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. A few others are
mine. The story below is for entertainment purposes only, and not to
be used commercially. ...Obviously.


"Learning Curve"
        Part XXX

by:   J. Wagner
http://www.wpi.edu/~jbw






"He's ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Inside the van, Pearl Adams let out a deep sigh, while his associates
got their living weapon ready. Over the last few weeks, he'd truly
become dissatisfied with what his assignment had grown into. He'd been
forced to decide between two situations both of which were doomed to
leave a lot of corpses in their wake, and while Adams had taken more
than a few lives of his own in the course of his career, he had tried
to keep innocents from being among them.

Growing up in the outback, he'd become a mercenary on what was
literally a lark. Good with a gun, and physically hardy, as a boy he'd
been born with a survivalist streak that had gotten him in trouble
more than a few times. Happier tracking emu and hunting rogue dingo,
he'd dropped out early and made money taking odd jobs as a ranch hand
and, later, amateur boxer. When he'd gotten the money, he moved to
America for a while, and found out that money could be made through
less scrupulous methods.

Back in Australia, Adams had rediscovered money problems nipping at
his heels, and after the death of his old man, took a few tours of
duty. It was all-good for the most part. He'd made up for lost time,
gotten an education, and became an officer. But profitable...? It
wasn't that he spent money unwisely; it was just that there wasn't
much to begin with. Two divorces hadn't helped either. After a few
years, he'd decided to go independent and break out on his own. He'd
done some business in South America, earned a bit of a name, and then
he'd been called out to Borneo to track a man down.

That had been his first contract with the Jyusenkyou Preservation
Society.

Hell, he hadn't even known what 'Jyusenkyou' was. Their money was
good, very good, and just as importantly, their missions were always
interesting. He'd spent more than a little time there, working for
them. The Society was obviously looking for something on the island,
but as far as he knew they never found it. His good work, however, had
gotten him a good reputation in the Society, and they'd brought him to
China to help them out there.

Trippy shit.

Over the last year, Pearl Adams had seen things his old rummy of a
father never could've imagined. Or maybe he did when he got piss-drunk
and needed his gun to fall asleep. Half-men half-animals, people who
can shatter stone with their fingers, energy blasts like out of some
screwed up comic book... it all seemed insane, really. But... but it
was damn real.

Damn real.

"Ryu?" Yosho asked, voice amiable.

The boy's voice was full of eagerness. "Yes?"

"How do you feel Ryu?"

"Better than ever before." The boy with the white bandanna smiled. "I
feel invincible!"

"Good." Yosho paused for a second to check Ryu's neck, and then,
seemingly satisfied, patted the boy on the shoulder. "You know what to
do, right?"

"Find them, lure them." No hesitation in Ryu's response. "Kill them."

Adams listened, and frowned. He'd been ordered to Japan to identify a
handful of targets from the JPS Registry: Saotome Ranma, Saotome
Genma, and Hibiki Ryouga. They'd given him a team of men, and asked
for a detailed analysis of the three: strength projections, Speed
category, lists of fighting techniques 'conventional and
unconventional,' medical records, living arrangements, and a number of
other things. At the same time, he and other cells had gone about
identifying and cataloguing other Japanese martial artists and unusual
phenomenon. It'd been quite fascinating work, actually, but he never
asked why the Society wanted the info... and to tell the truth, he
hadn't really cared.

Then, Bishop had told him to kill them.

Or at least the two boys. The more detailed written orders he'd been
given were to ensure the elimination, past a given time, of the two
primary targets. Apparently, someone is the Society, possibly Bishop
himself, had deemed it likely that while the two young men might get
involved in Society business, the older Saotome man would not. A bomb
had seemed like the best plan of action, but...

Pearl closed his eyes and thought of Kasumi. This had always been his
problem. Women! But Kasumi was different from the others. Her smile
filled him with a secret joy he had to hide from his compatriots, and
the deception he was using on her caused him pain - made him feel
lower than the lowest slug in a garden of red roses. She was the
linchpin of an odd family, but it was a family none-the-less. A happy,
growing family. How could he let all that disappear in a cloud of fire
and metal?

No.

Kasumi would not die. Nor would her sisters and father, not if he had
another option available. And now, that option was ready to be
unleashed. Despite not being a martial artist himself, or anywhere
near capable of the amazing feats he'd witnessed, Pearl Adams had
knowledge. And knowledge was power. The surikomi egg had done half the
job and Tomiko's success at Ryugenzawa had built on that foundation.
Kumon Ryu would be his walking weapon: a martial artist to fight
martial artists.

Off the record Kumon had orders, told to him when Kenji and Yosho
weren't around, not to endanger the Tendos. On the record, Adams had
argued to his comrades that by using this method, instead of a bomb,
there'd be no outstanding connection to the Society, as per his
orders. It would look like the work of a rogue martial artist. The
local cops and authorities would follow the commands from higher up
and clean up any resulting messes. He'd been assured that some
elements and levels of the Japanese government were already under the
influence of the Society, should it become necessary to use them. And
following this route, he could take care of his two targets and make
it look like a martial arts duel gone out of control.

Still, he suspected Kenji and Yosho were silently questioning his
motives. Kenji, who had been included in the group primarily to make
the bomb that would get the job done, was at first annoyed that he
wouldn't get the chance to use what he'd "put his soul into making."
Then, after being reminded that he got paid either way, he had seemed
relatively content to let his 'baby' be the backup operation. Yosho,
however, was another story. He was a specialist in surveillance and
intelligence gathering, and Adams was starting to suspect that he was
reporting on them behind his back.

The van slowed and parked at a mall at the edge of the district.

"Now..." Yosho said, before opening the back doors. "It's time."

"Adams-sama?"

"Go on, Ryu." Adams had been the one the boy first saw when he woke
up. The effects had been everything the Society had told him.

"I won't fail you." Kumon Ryu cracked his knuckles. "Those two guys...
Saotome Ranma and Hibiki Ryouga... are as good as dead!"

***

China.

Herb stood, a cool breeze caressing his face, overlooking the
Seventh Gate. A hundred feet below, rank after rank of Musk marched,
carrying their supplies on their backs. They were all strong warriors,
and trained to move lightly and with great speed across long
distances. Miles behind them, they had separated from the bulk of
Herb's Army, and begun the trek up the Seventh Stair that led to the
Gate, and finally, around the mountain summit and into the Amazon
heartland.

At his feet, a pebble broke loose, and tumbled down the rocky
precipice. From where he stood, the Seventh Gate beckoned - a slow,
but steady descent, treacherous most of the year due to landslides and
ice. From afar, between howling winds and mist covered mountain peaks,
it called to him. This was the season of his victory. Of his ultimate
triumph! Already, it had brought him so much, and found the Dragon
Prince in good fortune.

Soon.

He felt a laugh bubble up at the sheer, almost giddy, joy of it all.
This was where he was *now.* Just months before, he'd only dreamed of
this moment, and now it was real. Real! What other glories did the
future hold? He already had more than he had imagined, just half a
year ago. Clenching his fist, he deeply inhaled the mountain air.
Soon, he would march through green pastures. Soon, the bodies of Khu
Lon and Oui Ru would each decorate a pike, high above the ruins of the
Joketsuzoku village. Where, then, would he be? What, then, would he
do?

"Pantyhose."

Herb's half brother didn't answer immediately, but made up for the
disrespect with his usual well-chosen words. "My liege?"

Herb looked over his shoulder at Pantyhose Taro, his bastard younger
half brother born of tainted Amazon blood and the most noble of Musk
ancestry. Taro was a fine warrior, even in comparison to fellow Musk,
but his Jyusenkyou curse, his foolish name, his (tentative) chance of
inheriting the Dragon Throne, and the damned coincidences of his birth
would forever stigmatize him in Herb's eyes. Taro was not his equal,
and never would be. Still, he had his talents, and his uses.

"Go, as planned, and scout out the lands ahead before our arrival."
Herb turned back to the view. "Use what resources and male spies among
the Amazons that you still have available. This will be our final
campaign."

Taro's eyes sparkled, though Herb didn't see it.

"Should I attempt to encourage the southern pockets of Chinese Muslims
to rise up, or leave them be for the moment?"

 "They would only be crushed at this point." Herb shook his head. "It
is tempting... but let things be that are, at least for the immediate
future, out of our reach. Just do as planned, and rendezvous with us
in three days. Oh, and... one more thing, 'little brother.' I want you
to find an Amazon male who goes by the name Mu Tzu. His safety seems
to be a concern of my woman's, and so it has become my concern as
well."

"Feh." Taro reached down to his waist and unscrewed a small canteen
looped to a strap over his shoulder.  "Consider it done. ... My
liege."

The younger brother jumped, then, into the air. With an almost
inaudible splash, Taro transformed. His body expanded several fold,
horns erupted from his skull, wings from his back, hooves where feet
had once been... and then something new: tentacles. From the base of
his spine they writhed and curled. With a roar that shook the ground,
Taro flew overhead, and to the east. Below Herb's lookout, more than a
few Musk paused in their march to cheer him.

Watching his agent fly off, Herb reached to his side and pulled out
the Kinjakan staff from where he'd jabbed it, several inches, into the
rocky ground. It was in perfect condition, of course. Being damn near
invulnerable to damage, it would take a great deal to break the
legendary Jusendo staff. As he held it Herb found the feel of it in
his hands rather enjoyable. It was one of the lost treasures of the
Musk, but now it was back where it belonged: in the hands of the
Dragon Lord whose ancestor had commissioned its creation. It's
brother-staff, the Gekkaja, however, was still lost to them.

A true pity.

Herb had no doubt that the Phoenix still held the Gekkaja prisoner in
some hidden storehouse beneath Phoenix Mountain. It was then only a
matter of time before, having finished subduing the unruly Amazons,
the Musk returned to that place and finish off their perverted cousins
and creations, the Phoenix. And reclaim... what was theirs. Holding
the Kinjakan eye level, Herb concentrated, and the staff responded to
him. It knew its master well, for while anyone with knowledge of Ki
could use the Kinjakan, only one from the bloodline of Ma'at could
master it, and utilize it to its full potential.

Only a few quiet minutes later, Herb heard the approaching footsteps
his well-honed Ki senses had long before warned him of. He let the two
get close before pivoting slightly and giving some proper greeting.
His breath caught at the sight of her, of Kuonji Ukyou, standing
before him. She was wearing Musk light armor (with her mega-spatula
tied to the back), but her long blowing chestnut hair, her eyes, her
face... all made it impossible to not see her as female. He smiled
inwardly. To him, Ukyou looked beautiful no matter what she wore.

Herb inclined his head to her and mentally switched languages to
Japanese. "Ukyou. Would you... ah... care to join me?"

She smiled, and it filled him with warmth. "If I fall off that edge,
you'd better catch me."

"I would be remiss if I did not." Herb took a step to the side and let
her join him, looking out over the edge of the cliff. She would be his
wife, if he had any say in the matter, and a decidedly un-Musk part of
him was happier to have her with him here and now than all the
victories in war thus acquired.

And, of course, Mint stood behind the two, his arms crossed, and a
serious expression on his young face. Herb paid him only a passing
glance, and silent testimony to a job well done as Ukyou's bodyguard.
Mint was a loyal Musk, good hearted, and well skilled. He had taken to
the task of guarding the would-be bride of the Dragon Prince with
distinction and devotion, and Ukyou seemed to have grown comfortable
with his presence. So, Herb let him stay close as they watched the
mountains and the pass.

A little shyly, Herb let his slightly shaking hand settle on Ukyou's
waist, and when she didn't respond negatively, he held her closer to
him. "I'm... glad you accompanied me... I value you more than I think
I've ever made clear, Ukyou."

Surprised, she turned to face him.

"After this is over," he said, and looked away again, back to the seas
of rock and trees. "I will let Mint escort you home, to Japan, if you
so desire. I will not hold you against your will, though I am loathe
to let you go."

"You have an odd way of being romantic, sugar," she replied, playfully.

"Oh?" he asked.

"But I'm not going to leave just yet." Ukyou continued. "Someone has
to look out for you."

He smirked. "My hero."

They stood in silence for a few more moments, before Ukyou spoke up.
"Herb?"

"Mmm?"

"I came here to ask something of you."

'Some ulterior motive?' he wondered. "What is it?"

"Well..." She paused, as if unsure whether to continue.

"Speak your mind, woman." Herb pressed her.

"I know you have no qualms about killing, Herb. I know one of the
reasons you're here is to kill... those who have wronged your family.
I'm not going to tell you that what you're doing is wrong. But..." Her
voice became bolder. "But I want you to keep the bloodshed to a
minimum. Even if they are Amazons, who you make no secret of your
hatred for, I don't want innocent people to get caught up in this."

Herb wrinkled his nose, as if smelling something rotten. "This is war.
The innocent and the guilty alike bleed in war."

"Herb..." Ukyou pursed her lips, and grabbed him by his collar. "I
don't think you're a bad person, but if you want there to be
something, anything, between us, you'll promise me..."

"If it is so important," Herb interrupted, and gently pried her
fingers from his tunic. "Then I'll see it done."

"Really?"

"Though some of the men will be disappointed, the bloodshed will be
kept to a... minimum." He frowned a little. "I promise."

"Good." She seemed satisfied with that, and relaxed. Herb just
sighed.

Women were strange creatures, indeed.

Far below, the Musk marched on.

***

Ryugenzawa was gone.

Shinnosuke still couldn't quite believe it. Everything he'd ever
known, everything, was gone. Burned to ashes. So long as he lived,
never would he forget the smoldering ruin that had once been their
guardianship and their home. Looking out the window, to the speeding
countryside around the train, he wondered something.

"Where are we going?"

His grandfather had a weary look to him. "We're going to visit an old
family friend."

"Oh."

Shinnosuke mentally filed that little factoid away (where it promptly
was forgotten two minutes later). Coughing softly, he covered his
mouth, and looked around at the other people in their part of the
train. None seemed to pay him much heed, but the forgetful one had a
strange feeling that they were being watched. Gulping, he tasted
something off, and looked down at his hand.

Blood?

Wiping his lower lip with his wrist. Shinnosuke shrugged. He'd
probably just bitten his lip or something. Looking to his only
surviving family, he held out his hand. "Grandfather. Tissue?"

The older man saw the blood, and for an instant, Shinnosuke saw panic
in his eyes. Then the old guardian reached into a pocket and handed
over a rumpled white tissue. Shinnosuke cleaned off his hand and
wrist, while running his tongue around inside his mouth, trying to
find the bite. After a few seconds, however, he found nothing, and
gave up. It wasn't that big a deal anyway.

"How are you feeling, Shinnosuke?"

"I've got a bit of a headache." The boy leaned forward and to the side
a little, resting his shoulder against the windowpane. Yawning, he
blinked his eyes a few times. "I guess I'm just a bit worn out."

"We're almost there," his grandfather assured him. "You can sleep when
we get to their house."

"... Who are we going to see again?"

The old man sighed, and explained it for the tenth or eleventh time.
It was just a half hour later when, after leaving the train station,
the two men reached their goal. Approaching the main gate to the
compound, Shinnosuke's grandfather gave their names and waited for a
ranch hand to let them in.

"Have I ... ever been here before?"

Shinnosuke's grandfather closed his eyes and nodded sadly. His heir's
forgetfulness was not just a serious hurtle to be overcome in their
line of work, but a major annoyance as well. Any girl poor Shin-chan
managed to hook up with would need patience to rival the Buddha. It
was one of the reasons he had canceled his old agreement with Benjiro.
He only hoped that time had healed the remaining animosity between the
former friends, because without help, Shinnosuke didn't have much
longer to live.

Only a minute later, a tall man in overalls opened the gate, and led
the two men to the main house. It wasn't particularly large; little
more than a farm house, and dwarfed by the large pens behind and to
its right side. Large animals roamed in those pens, and a fair
distance away some of their free-range cousins milled about. Entering
the comfy house, liberally decorated in pig motifs, Shinnosuke and his
grandfather came at last to an enervated old man seated before a table
in the middle of what was likely the living room. With a bow, the two
also sat down.

"Rinji." Their elderly host said, simply.

Shinnosuke's grandfather bowed his head. "Benjiro."

"... Do I know you?" Shinnosuke asked, looking closely at the other
old man.

Benjiro smiled wryly. "You may, Shin-kun. But I'm not surprised you
forgot. I was younger, then. Healthier. Gentlemen. My grand-daughter
will be in with tea in a moment."

"We were both younger then." Rinji nodded, slowly. "Benjiro, you
must know this isn't just a social call."

"I didn't expect to see you again after breaking off the
engagement."

"Ryugenzawa..."

"I heard." Benjiro cut his one-time friend off. "On the news. A
forest fire... I suppose that is what it would take to bring you two
out of that cursed forest for even a day or two."

"Ryugenzawa is not a cursed forest!" Rinji growled, and Shinnosuke
suspected it wasn't the first time he'd said those words in that tone.


"'Was not a cursed forest,' you mean." Benjiro smirked, the
wrinkles on his forehead and face scrunching up slightly. "Why did you
come, Rinji? No where else to go?"

After a tense moment, Shinnosuke's grandfather relented, voice
exhausted. "No."

In the distance, an animal grunted, and a wind chime sounded in the
breeze. Soft footsteps interrupted the moment, and a young lady in
work-pants and a hastily thrown on shirt walked in, holding a tray.
Seeing her, Shinnosuke felt a moment of recognition come and go in a
heartbeat. She was cute; expressive hazel eyes and long deep-brown
hair with brilliant pink highlights running down the side. Was it
that, or something else, that made him feel as if all this was deja
vu?

"Hello," she said, voice kind but with a certain determination. "Tea,
anyone?"

"Please." Rinji inclined his head, and nudged Shiinosuke in the side.

"Oh." The young man looked at the girl. "Umm... yes. Please."

Benjiro leaned back a little from where he sat. "I wonder, Shin-kun,
do you remember my granddaughter: Akari?"

"Akari?" Shinnosuke cocked his head to the side.

"Shin?" Akari sat down after serving the two guests. "Shinnosuke?"

"That's me." The boy seemed to shift nervously under her gaze. "Have
we met?"

"When we were younger." Akari clarified. "You don't remember me at
all?"

"Sorry... no..."

She looked away. "...oh...."

Rinji coughed, making his presence known, and reminding their host
that there was business to discuss between them. "There is more to
this than you know, Benjiro. Many years ago, not soon after we...
parted ways, actually... Shinnosuke here was involved in an accident
while saving a young girl. He was injured quite severely."

"I was?" Shinnosuke asked, not liking how clueless he sounded in front
of Akari.

"Yes. It is time you know how serious this situation is for you, my
boy." Rinji frowned deeply. "On that day, I thought you were going to
die. Not only had you been poisoned, but also your mongoose-horn
whistle was gone. Without it, there was no chance of subduing the
Orochi and healing you using the Moss of Life. However, the Water of
Life could heal you temporarily, so I didn't believe the problem was
life threatening so long as you remained within Ryugenzawa."

"Now, with the sacred forest gone..." The old man placed his palms on
the table and bowed deeply. "I need your help, Benjiro! For old time's
sake! Help me! Help me find the Tendo Dojo!"

Akari's eyebrows perked up. "Did you say, 'Tendo Dojo?'"

"Yes." Rinji nodded, once. "The girl he saved ended up carrying
Shinnosuke home after he stepped on one of the monster traps. I got
her name before she left, and it was Tendo Akane, of the Tendo Dojo.
She was gone before I learned any more, but I am convinced, now, that
Shinnosuke must have given her the whistle. Unfortunately, I have no
idea where the Dojo is..."

"What about the Water of Life?" Benjiro asked.

Rinji wiped away a tear. "I returned after the fire had been put out,
Benjiro. Nothing was left. All the animals were dead. And... and..."

"And?"

"And the Water of Life is gone. Drained!" Rinji balled his hands into
fists. "Which means the Yamata-no-Orochi has awoken. He will have to
be defeated or subdued before yielding the Moss of Life that can save
Shinnosuke."

Throughout this, Rinji noticed, the boy in question was eerily silent.
It wasn't every day one learned they were dying. Rinji had
purposefully not said just how long his grandson had left before death
overcame him, instead trusting in the tone of his voice and the
seriousness of the situation to make it clear: not long. Luckily, the
Unryu Ranch was on the way to Tokyo, and if worse came to worse, and
Shinnosuke was not long for this mortal coil, he would be able to
spend that time comfortable and happy.

Benjiro sighed, knowingly. "These are difficult times. I will do
whatever I can to help, Rinji."

"Ano..." Akari spoke up. "Grandfather... I know where the Tendo Dojo
is."

"You do?" Rinji focused his eyes on her, tears of happiness in them.
"Where is it?"

"Nerima Ward. I can take you there, if you like."

"Ah, yes!" Benjiro clapped his fist in his palm, remembering. "Akari
was in Tokyo just a little while ago. Looking for a husband!"

"Grandfather!" Akari blushed, embarrassed.

"You can head out first thing tomorrow morning. I think young Shin-kun
here is at least entitled to one good meal and a good night's rest
after everything you've both been through." Akari's grandfather
declared. "Akari, please show Shin-kun to the guest room. Rinji and I
still have things to discuss."

"Of course." Akari stood up, and Shinnosuke did likewise after a few
seconds. "This way."

Following her in relative silence up the stairs, he finally said
something.

"What's your name again?"

She just smiled. "Unryu Akari."

 "That's a nice name." Shinnosuke smiled back. "Akari..."

***

Lychee savored the sensation of flight, partaking deeply of air so
pure; it was normally reserved for the birds alone. The Lucky Gods
Airship had taken to the sky once more, after spending the better part
of a day at ground level, and Lychee had watched as regiment after
regiment of Musk troops had loaded into its cavernous bays. She had
watched, as supplies of rice and pickles were prepared for the journey
ahead.

As the thought of rice and pickles, she felt a moment of distaste, but
it came and went. Those two foodstuffs had played a greater role in
her diet than she deserved, though luckily the ship also maintained a
store of more tasteful ingredients for special occasions. She had a
feeling that those would not last long with several hundred ravenous
Musk aboard, but such was the importance of their place in Prince
Herb's plan that the price would have to be paid. More importantly,
the Society and her Father wished the Amazons crushed and under their
control.

Herb was a linchpin in that plan, though he himself was oblivious to
it. Lychee only wished she could see her beloved father soon,
especially to see how he looked now that he'd taken Saffron's power
into himself and become more-than-man. Ironically, during the assault
on Phoenix Mountain, Herb had used the Airship as a distraction, and
at the same time, Bishop and the Society had used *him* as the
distraction they needed to nab the young Phoenix God. Soon enough,
even the arrogant Prince of the Musk would be put in his place.

Such was the plan of her father, Bishop Verikov.

Her adopted father, anyway. Lychee's real family had died when she was
barely a child. The only reminder she had of them was the family
scroll that had been passed down for generations, and that had proven
the greatest inheritance she could have asked for. The scroll was the
second half of a similar one in the possession of the Seven Lucky Gods
martial arts clan. It had allowed her first entrance into Prince
Kirin's court, and later, his heart.

Lychee had little doubt that her father had adopted the scroll as much
as the girl. He was far too crafty and knowledgeable in such matters
to leave that in doubt. But that realization had never really bothered
her; she was more than willing to be a part of his plans and the
destiny of the human race. Over time, she had grown to love her
father, and he her. If she was also useful to him as an agent in his
plans, then all the better.

They were both practical people.

Not at all like her husband, the Prince: Kirin. Kirin was an
eccentric, and a romantic, which was a nice change of pace, really. He
was just... a little soft. He lacked the ruthlessness of even many of
his servants, like Bishamonten, Monlon and Ebiten. It took more than a
little pulling and prodding on her part to get him to give the
Alliance with the Musk his blessing. 'A soft touch,' she had called
it, when her father had asked how her progress was with the Prince.

The only alternative, of course, was to use a surikomi egg. When the
plan had begun, and she had gained Kirin's audience and confidence to
the point where she could hit him with it without arousing suspicion
(roughly when they began sharing bedchambers), her father had offered
her one egg out of the few they had back then to get the job done.
However, she had declined. Its use would destroy him and make him into
a slave, and though his stubbornness got on her nerves more than once,
she did not want a slave for a husband. And she did not want the proud
and noble Prince Kirin to befall such a fate. She had told her father
as much, and though he was annoyed, he relented and let her do as she
thought was right.

Of course, that was before Bishop's plans entered a critical phase,
and before surikomi eggs were in any abundance. All they had available
at that time were old surikomi eggs that the Society had gotten their
hands on during the last war, and that Saffron the Terrible had left
behind in the places of his power. Now, with the Phoenix God a part of
her father, surikomi eggs were no longer scarce. Even though the
Society was busy using them to gain influence around the world as part
of the plan, her father seemed more insistent that she consider it an
option when dealing with Kirin.

"Sorry, father..." She whispered the apology. Even if he asked, she
wouldn't do it. Despite his faults and idiosyncrasies, Kirin had grown
on her, and... and she loved him. Loved him enough to protect him. No:
her husband and Prince could be manipulated just as all husbands were,
and in so doing, Kirin would one day join her father of his own free
will. It was only a matter of time.

Which made her wonder about Kuonji Ukyou.

The Japanese girl, when last they had talked, still wanted to go home,
though Lychee had detected more than a little fondness for where she
already was. Could it be: was she falling for that Musk Prince? True,
Herb was handsome and strong, but he was hardly what Lychee would
consider kind and loveable, or even that likeable. Dismissive of women
in general, overbearing and arrogant, Herb just didn't seem like her
type.

This complicated things. Lychee had suggested to her father that Ukyou
could be used against Herb. He had allowed her to proceed with that
possible course of action, while at the same time giving those two
barbarians Sumac and Taro free reign to plan against the Musk Prince
so long as it did not seriously impair the Campaign against the
Amazons. Sumac, Lychee knew, was as ruthless and ambitious as her
father. She wasn't sure how wise it was trusting him to act on his
own... and Taro... Pantyhose Taro was a wild card. His only real
allegiance seemed to be with himself.

Still, if everything went well, the Amazons would be smashed, and the
entire area would be restructured. Sumac would oversee all the lands
of the Amazon and Phoenix, Taro would get whatever he wanted (whatever
that was), and Herb would either be broken to their cause or made too
impotent to oppose it. Kirin and the Seven Lucky Gods clan would then
support the Jyusenkyou Preservation Society as it assumed control over
the area, with all its ancient wealth in martial arts, magic,
artifacts and knowledge. With that, and the elimination or
assimilation of all the powerful martial artists of the world, the
Society would have a free hand to infiltrate and control all the major
governments on the planet. Her father, now an immortal being, would
then rule over all the earth, secretly at first, and then with greater
boldness and force.

Then, finally, the world would know peace...

"Lady Lychee?"

"Hmm?" She turned a little, just enough to see a young man approach
the railing at the edge of the Airship. His oak-brown hair, and
prominent bandanna, immediately identified him as Prince Toma, the
'other' Prince on board the ship. He wasn't in his normal attire,
however, as instead of wearing the light blue bandanna she had seen on
him before, his present one was all black. He hadn't been his usual
talkative self the last few days, and Lychee had little doubt that he
was still mourning the death of his friend and bodyguard, Wonton.

"Prince Toma." She gave him a curt bow. "What brings you out here?"

His eyes were half lidded as he looked out into the open sky. Below,
the hills were slowly turning to mountains, and above, a flocks of
birds seemed to hover, keeping pace with the slowly moving airship.
Seeing them, the young Prince took a step back, and in the time it
took to bat an eye, draw his sword. Without a word, he motioned
upwards with it, and a column of fire lanced out, engulfing the flock.

Which flew out of the flames unharmed.

"Animals never fall for my illusions." He narrowed his eyes. "No
matter."

In that instant, he was gone. Lychee looked up, and saw him reappear
in midair, among the birds. Before the animals could properly panic
and scatter, Toma's sword flashed, and the lot of them, all twelve,
disappeared in little explosions of feathers and blood. The next
second, Toma disappeared once more. Appearing next to her in a flash,
she saw him just finish sheathing his sword.

"Why...?" She started to ask.

"They could have been spies for the Phoenix. Better not to take the
risk." He looked out over the railing again, as if nothing had
happened. Little feathers and bits of feathers slowly rained down,
drifting on invisible air currents like snow. Lychee caught one in her
palm that seemed to flutter more erratically than the rest, and saw
that it had been cut cleanly down the center.

Toma closed his eyes and sighed. "Did you know... that this is only
the second time I've been to the land of my ancestors?"

The first had been when he'd come for Prince Herb's summons, weeks
ago, before the plan for war had been decided on. Lychee, however, was
unsure what to say to such a question. Seeing his shadowed eyes on
her, she suddenly felt nervous. Toma was a Lord of Illusions, and
despite his youth, he was a formidable fighter, as she had just
witnessed.

"What do you think of it?" She asked, finally.

"This place..." Toma's grip on the railing tightened. "A part of me
can feel its allure, its ancient history. I share some of my blood
with Herb, and though it does not flow as strongly, it is still part
of me. I knew of my bloodline, but never really understood it until I
came here. And even then... not until I drew my sword with intent to
kill."

Lychee blinked, confused. Why had he paused in his words?

After twenty or so seconds, Tome continued. "I was so... shocked at
first. So frightened. Now... now my blood revels in it, and burns with
a corrupting fire I had never imagined existed. Within me is a
Serpent, dark and evil: a ghost haunting the descendants of Ma'at with
promises of power and death. I can see, now, why the Musk Lords ever
restrained themselves in the affairs of men."

Toma's left hand clenched into a fist. "If this siren song beats so
strongly in my heart... Herb must feel it pulse with his every thought
and impulse! Yet... yet... I do not feel he is falling towards the
Abyss. How does he control it so easily, while I struggle so? I am
unsure whether to admire him, or fear him."

"Perhaps," Lychee suggested. "A little of both?"

"Perhaps." Toma said, voice distant. "I fight here because I gave Herb
my word, and my word is my bond. I fight because I want to distinguish
myself... made a name for myself. And, maybe, bring Musk and Togenkyou
closer together in friendship. I never asked... I never asked why
Wonton fought. He simply did, I suppose. I just never... thought to
ask."

"Now he's dead." Toma wiped his nose, and stood up straight. No tears,
though, which surprised Lychee. Prince Toma had been in isolation for
two days after the assault on Phoenix Mountain, only meeting with his
surviving bodyguard, Toristan, and Prince Herb, before he set out on
his campaign. Before that, on the deck of this very airship, Toma had
openly wept over the body of his fallen friend, seemingly ignorant of
the arrow shaft imbedded in his arm and refusing to leave Wonton's
side.

"He's dead." Toma repeated, his face stony. "And so are at least a
hundred and seven other Togenkyou warriors, from horizon to horizon. I
thought the view from here might ease my mind, but it seems to have
had the opposite effect."

Lychee didn't know what to say, except, "I'm sorry."

He quirked an eyebrow and looked at her questioningly. "Don't be. You
have nothing to feel sorry for. ... Good night, Lady Lychee."

Watching the young man's back as he walked away, Lychee turned again
to the view over the railing, seeing more than just the mountains and
the sky. "Oh, father..."

***

"Ok. Let's try this again..."

Ranma shook his head at Ryouga's weary tone of voice. "Ok. On three.
One... two..."

The pigtailed martial artist lifted the nozzle of the garden hose and
splashed his rival. "Three!"

Instantly, Ryouga disappeared and shrunk down amid the spray of cold
water, into the body of a little black piglet. Looking wearily down at
him, Ranma got the next thermos of hot water ready, and unscrewed the
cap. Though it didn't look like it, he and Ryouga were training. Or,
more precisely, Ryouga was training, and he was helping.

It was the system they'd developed.

They had decided to train together when it came to normal sparring,
without the special techniques. Special techniques and the like were
independently worked on, for the most part, but they had agreed to
help each other with any special training they might need. It was a
little boring, mostly because Ranma wasn't doing anything personally
productive, but he knew Ryouga would return the favor if asked.

They were still rivals, but they weren't enemies.

It was an interesting arrangement, and one Ranma was actually rather
enjoying. Maybe they were even friends, now. Ryouga had never called
Ranma a 'friend' but, really, did you need to call someone a friend
for them to be one? It occurred to him that if Ryouga got lost again
Nabiki wouldn't be the only person to miss him. He would too.

"Hey, Pig, how ya doin?"

The piglet growled and squealed.

'Probably a curse.' Ranma figured; some porcine equivalent of cross-
dresser. Ranma smirked. "Ok. Here comes the hot water. Get ready."

Upending the thermos, Ryouga-pig was showered by the steaming water.
In half a second, he was back in his human form, wearing only his
boxers. Sitting cross-legged, he sighed. "It's getting easier. Two or
three more times, and I'll have it down."

"Cool." Ranma reached for the hose. "How's it feel?"

"Weird." Ryouga nodded sagely. "The hard part was getting the clothes
to transform with me in the first place. After that, getting them to
reappear was relatively easy. You shouldn't have too much of a problem
getting it down."

Ranma 'hmfed.' "If Mousse can do it, I should I hope I could, too. On
three?"

"Yep."

Counting to the required number, Ranma hosed Ryouga down once again,
and he shrunk into his pig form, taking the boxers with him. That,
Mousse had told them before he left, was the trick to changing forms
with clothes on. For the Chinese Amazon it had been a relatively easy
technique to pick up, because of his background in Hidden Weapons. It
was for that same reason that both had decided to let Ryouga have a
try at it first. Aside from having a more embarrassing curse, which,
when triggered, usually meant he lost his clothes, Ryouga also had
more experience with hidden weapons. Though it was a different variety
than that which Mousse had mastered.

Ryouga had already made good progress. They'd been at it for the last
hour and a half, and already he could transform without losing his
boxer shorts. This, apparently, was enough for the lost boy. His
regular clothes were already Ki treated, using the Tekimen Kongou
Gishu technique, and the lost boy suspected that the Instant Diamond
Hand would make them much more difficult to transform with. When Ranma
asked why, he had reminded him that the clothes react to impacts,
especially piercing ones, using infused Ki to stiffen in response. He
was afraid they'd react negatively with what they were trying with
regular clothes, and wasn't willing to risk it.

It was still a handy ability to have, though Ranma knew Ryouga was
more interested in it than he was. Ranma had very rarely found himself
for want of clothes due to his curse. Still, once or twice Ranma had
wished he'd be able to quickly move out of a girl-disguise clothes and
into something more fitting his real body, if only to avoid
embarrassment. But there was little need to master it, at least not at
this point in time.

Then, just as he was about finished unscrewing another hot water
thermos, his martial artist's warning sense went off. 'Danger!'

"Ranma..." Akane called, walking towards where they were practicing.
"Would you like some tea and cherry-blossom mochi?"

Leaping up and away, his head was intercepted by one of the dozen or
so unused concrete blocks by the side of the house. Falling back to
earth, Ranma crossed his arms and frowned, landing on both feet.
Touching the bump on his head, he gave Akane a bitter look. Walking up
to her, he picked up one of the mochi balls from the tray.

It was a cruel, deformed creature.

"This is cherry-blossom mochi?" He looked at it dejectedly, and Akane
nodded happily. "It looks more like a mashed potato."

Ryouga-pig winced, but walked over to the two as they sat down. 'Real
smooth, dumbass. Why is he always making fun of Akane's cooking?'

Sniffing it, Ranma rubbed the second bump on his poor abused skull.
"Are you sure this is cherry-blossom mochi? This one smells like a
month old burrito."

A second later, Ranma was nursing yet another bump on the head.

"Of course it's cherry-blossom mochi!" Akane shook her fist angrily.
"I made it myself!"

"That much is obvious..." Ranma whispered.

"Just eat one, Ranma!" Akane yelled, a hint of desperation in her
voice.

Ranma looked down at the miserable little foodstuff, and seemed about
to take a little nibble, when...

"What have we here?" Kuno exploded onto the scene, and landed behind
them with a flourish and a flick of his wavy hair. "Ah, cherry-blossom
mochi sculpted by the lovely hands of Tendo Akane! Such a treat alone
could divert me from my courtship of the pigtailed girl, whose mother
I have heard, now resides within these humble walls!"

"Oh, great..." Ranma groaned.

Ryouga-pig snorted in disapproval. 'Nabiki...'

Tears of happiness streaming down his cheeks, Kuno lunged for the tray
of mochi. "Such a treat is fit only for..."

Abruptly, the kendoist's throat seized up, and he fell forward limply
landing on all fours. Slamming his head with the palm of his hand, in
obvious pain, Kuno writhed for all of fifteen seconds before standing
back up, fist clenched... and a big black X on his face.

"Tendo Akane..." He proclaimed, proudly. "I would endure any agony for
you!!"

"What the...?" Ranma narrowed his eyes, looking more closely at the
mark on Kuno's face. In the next second, Kuno jumped towards his one-
of-two true loves and was promptly punted over the wall. Calming down
slightly, Akane took a deep breath and sat down again. Noticing
Ranma's glare, she relented.

"Alright. I'll tell you everything." Akane quickly composed her
thoughts, and proceeded to tell Ranma and Ryouga about how she had ran
into the old man who had sold her the things, explaining that they
would mark incompatible people with an X and compatible people with
cherry blossom outlines. At the end of it all, Ranma waved his hand
dismissingly.

"What a waste of money."

"I just wanted to see if, you know..." Akane's thumbs tapped each
other nervously. "I mean: we're engaged because of our parents. I was
just curious about whether... if..."

"Yeah, well, I ain't interested!" Ranma barked back, defensive.

Akane growled. "Why not?"

"Because..." Ranma looked down at the malformed mochi still in his
right hand. "Because I'm scared. Not because I believe this stupid
stuff works... but because..."

"Because?" Akane pressured.

"Because its gross!"

Bump number four.

"Fine!" Akane hissed, really angry now. She spied Ryouga-pig sitting
down on his haunches, nearby. "You don't think my cooking is bad, do
you, Ryouga?"

The pig shook his head.

"Well, Ryouga ain't never eaten any, so he doesn't know how
dangerous..." Ranma winced, barely avoiding getting blow number five
to the noggin.

'I know it can't be Ryouga. And if Ryouga eats one, Ranma will have
to.' Akane thought as she handed him one of the mochi balls, and the
pig ate it in one bite. For a split second, the piglet's body froze
up, his eyes wide. Then, tears welling up, the pig formerly known as
P-chan let out a loud squeal, and ran around in erratic circles before
hitting a wall and collapsing completely.

"I told you." Ranma shook his head. "Man, I feel sorry for the guy,
now. He had no idea what he was getting into."

Akane just scowled. "Shut up, Ranma! At least he was man enough to eat
one! What would your mother think?"

"She'd think: 'Don't poison my only son!' That's what she'd think!"

"Why you...!"

"Ugh..." Ryouga's voice interrupted the two, and they saw that the
lost boy had recovered enough to splash himself with the thermos Ranma
had last unscrewed. "Such exquisite agony..."

"Ryouga?" Akane watched him closely. He was still looking down at the
ground and holding his face in one hand. "Was it that bad?"

"Errg graaa..." He slowly stood up, shaking his head. "K... keep
practicing, Akane-san... There was just... a little... too much sea
salt..."

...

"Guys?" Ryouga looked at the two teens. Akane and Ranma were just
staring at him. "What? Oh! I've probably got an X, right?"

"N... no..." Ranma shook his head. "Cherry blossom petals..."

"What?" Ryouga frowned. "Don't play games with me, Saotome..."

"It's true!" Akane gasped. "I don't believe it! You're the man I'm
destined to be with?!"


***

Furinkan High School.

"I hate summer classes!"

"I know, Kurumi-chan... but we have to go to school." Natsume
explained, patiently, as they walked out of the building. "We have to
make up for lost time, or we'll never be worthy of inheriting the
Tendo Dojo."

Kurumi's shoulders slumped. "I know..."

"Hey! You! Are you two Natsume and Kurumi Tendo?"

The two sisters looked up, and saw someone standing in the large
tree near the school gate. Jumping down, they saw he was a tall boy,
taller than Ranma and Ryouga and probably Kuno, too. He looked at
least Natsume's age, with a white headband, dark sleeveless shirt,
gloves and matching military pants and belt holding numerous pouches.
He also had what seemed to be a collar around his neck. Laced up black
boots took measured steps toward them, and both girls began to feel
his battle aura flare up around them.

"Who wants to know?" Natsume asked, summoning her courage, and her
own formidable fighting spirit to her defense.

"Yeah?!" Kurumi piped in, taking up a fighting stance and reaching
for her ribbon/bow.

"Natsume and Kurumi Tendo... of the Tendo Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu..."
The man smiled. "You two aren't real Tendos, so there shouldn't be a
problem using you as bait."

"Not 'real' Tendos? What are you talking about?!" Natsume drew her
rug beater, spinning it once before pointing at him. Her body began to
glow dangerously, ice blue energy coalescing around her. "Who are
you?"

"My name is Kumon Ryu." He stopped walking, and crossed his arms
in front of him. "Remember it!!"

"He's going to attack!" Natsume called to her sister. "Kurumi!
Quick! Musabetsu Kakutou Hiryu Carimbou!!"

With lightning quick reflexes and teamwork that could only come
from years of training together, Natsume and Kurumi unleashed their
final attack. Since the last fight they'd had with Ranma and Akane
(only later discovering that the girl was, in fact, Ranma), the two
sisters had trained to improve their attack - to make it stronger,
more cohesive, faster... The version they unleashed now wasn't at full
power, but it was comparable to the old 'full power' version they had
used against Ranma in the fight for the Dojo.

Their opponent just laughed as the attack smashed into his body,
sending him flying back into the concrete wall encircling the school.
The resulting crash blew away the embankment for over twenty feet,
throwing dust and bits of stone everywhere. A moment later, the tree
nearby snapped from the wind pressure and the strength of the attack
at its periphery. It fell to the ground in a heap.

"We got him!" Kurumi jumped, pumping her fist in the air. "We showed
him!"

"Indeed." Natsume then looked more closely at the rubble, where a
figure was still on his feet. Taking a few steps forward, and out of
the cloud of dust, Kumon Ryu snickered softly.

"A few days ago..." he said, loud enough for the girls to hear. "That
would've broken one of my ribs. Kudos. You've earned this..." Crossing
his arms again, Ryu's Ki built up dramatically, his battle aura
blazing like a living wildfire. "Kijin Raishu Dan!!"

Mere seconds later, Kumon Ryu walked away with the two girls over his
shoulder... and Furinkan High School burning at his back.
















Author's Notes:

Thus ends chapter 30! Holy smoke! Hard to believe I've written all
this and gotten this far. I write the very first version of "Learning
Curve" as a mere one-shot, only fifty pages long. The first half of
the first half was almost all Ranma-Ryouga, but I think I've done a
good job of diversifying and giving other characters a chance to show
their stuff. It's been an ordeal sometimes, and a real joy almost all
the time, all tempered by amazement. Thirty! Damn.

What's up for the next fifteen chapters? Lemme see: In Japan, we've
got those damn mochi screwing with the nice comfortable relationships,
Shinnosuke dying without the Water of Life, not to mention the menace
of a ruthless, pumped-up new Kumon Ryu doing the will of the
Jyusenkyou Preservation Society hit men. Then there's the rising
infiltration of that group into governments across the world... Plus
more... In China, the war continues, and reached the boiling point as
Herb and his forces drive towards the Joketsuzoku village itself. Not
to mention the manipulations of Sumac and Soap, and their respective
power plays! Then there's Shampoo and Mousse's less-than-healthy
situation, and wildcards like the Jyusenkyou Guide, Rouge, and Taro...


This story is far from over! I better get writing...


             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'