The next chapter of TWAM.  The first four are complete (five is nearly
done), and will be posted fairly closely together.  If the story seems
familiar, I have posted Chapters 1-4 on fanfiction.net (under user
"rmt").  I am posting it here as well because:
a) It's hard to get decent feedback on ff.net.
b) Chapter 4 has a few rough spots but I'm not sure _what_ is wrong with it.
c) Chapter 5 seems to be heading the same way.
d) There will no doubt be issues with Chapters 1-3 that I haven't
identified.  People have already very kindly pointed out some in Ch1
that I wasn't sure about.

C&C welcome, but please bear in mind that I am Australian and we do
spell things differently over here.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter Two: Pursuit

Disclaimer:  I don't own and didn't create Ranma � or any of these characters.

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

Tendrils of light from the small campfire danced into the night,
accompanied by the gentle pop and crackle of burning wood.

Ranma and Tarou had set up camp for the night in a small clearing on the
mountainside, near a small stream.  Since it was a clear night, the two
boys hadn't bothered to pitch the tent and had spread out their bedrolls
under the stars.

All things considered, it hadn't been a bad day.  Ranma's hunch was that
Ryouga would be trying to reach the mountains, since the lost boy seemed
to have spent much of his life in the mountains, either lost or in
training.  A quick check of the newspapers confirmed this.  There had
been three reports of a winged monster: one slightly north of Nerima,
the other two heading west.  Surprisingly, Ryouga was moving more or
less in a straight line for the mountains.  Ranma had been anxious about
how much more lost the lost boy could get with the ability to fly.

As for his travelling companion, Pantyhose Tarou had promptly rebuffed
Ranma's initial attempts at conversation, but had been content to walk
in silence rather than counter with his standard stream of sarcastic
barbs and insults.  He couldn't tell whether the Chinese Boy was making
an effort at being less obnoxious or was simply being more antisocial
than usual but in either case, it was probably a good thing.  Their past
history was proof enough that they were unable to hold a conversation
for more than a few minutes that didn't end in one trying to clobber the
other.

A gentle snore from the other side of the fire told Ranma that the other
boy had fallen asleep.  He lay down on his own bedroll, trying to work
out the best way of tracking down Ryouga.  It had to be done quickly,
before the lost boy managed to leave the country - after all, he was bad
enough on foot.  For what would no doubt be an exorbitant fee, Ranma had
arranged for Nabiki to report any possible Ryouga sightings and to keep
the real reason for the trip a secret.  He would check in periodically
using a public phone.

He had tried to think of a way to explain the real reason for the trip
that didn't expose Ryouga's Jusenkyou curse, but couldn't (much to
Tarou's amusement).  In the end, he reason he gave was that he was going
on a training trip with the other two martial artists, and that they
would meet Ryouga at his camping spot in the nearby vacant lot.  He had
been surprised at how easily the lie had been accepted, especially
considering how unlikely it was that he and Tarou would willingly spend
time together.  He suspected Akane hadn't fully believed him, but
fortunately she had been more upset about the prospect of his missing
school and the fact that she hadn't been invited.

Ranma closed his eyes.  At home, they would have finished dinner by now.
He pictured Kasumi washing up the dishes, always so cheerful; his mother
would be helping; Nabiki would be trying to work out how to fleece some
poor jerk for a few thousand yen; Soun and Pop would be playing yet
another game of shogi; and Akane... she'd probably be in her room
getting ready for bed, maybe wondering where P-Chan had gone.  He
smiled, remembering the warmth that he had felt coming from her when she
held him as P-Chan... feeling safe, secure... loved.

He sat up abruptly, shaking his head to clear the thoughts.  She'd thump
me if she knew that was me, he thought ruefully.  The un-cute tomboy.

Wrapping his blanket around him, he snuggled down back onto his bedroll.
Within a few minutes he was asleep.

****************
The clammy night air drew in close around him, but his great bulk and
thick shaggy fur kept him from feeling the cold.  He curled himself
tighter as he felt the knot in his stomach tighten.  He hadn't eaten in
thirty-six hours.  He had no provisions and he had no idea what this
body needed to eat.  In desperation, he had tried eating grass - part of
him was ox, after all - which was the cause of his current stomach ache.

He had taken to travelling on foot.  His mind, attuned to the instincts
of his little piglet body, couldn't block out the clamour of the
multiple creatures that now made up his cursed form.  It was worse in
the air: the torment of an octopus out of water, of an ox high above the
ground, all screaming at him from within.  Briefly he wondered what type
of mind could handle it; it would take a will far stronger than his - or
a mind less open - to block it out.

Maybe he could find a hot spring and change himself back.

"But how long do you think you'd last out here?" a little voice piped up
from within.  "Alone.  Lost.  Naked."

Maybe not.  With his luck, he'd probably end up wandering in circles out
here in the wilderness until he died of starvation or hypothermia.

What had happened?  Had he swapped curses with Tarou?  Merged them?  Was
P-Chan still in here somewhere too?  What about Ranma's girl curse?  He
ran his huge hands over what he could reach of his body, trying to find
some part of him that could have come from a pig or a girl.  Nothing.

He was beginning to regret leaving so suddenly.  With help, perhaps he
could have figured out what happened.  Ranma might even have been able
to help find a cure.

"Why would he want to?  You think he won't remember all those fights you
had?  The time you tried to kill him with the Bakusai Tenketsu?"

He had no other choice than to try and fix this on his own.  In the
morning, he would begin the search for the temple where he had initially
picked up the cursed water.  He sighed.  If only he could remember where
that was, or work out where he was.  Or head in the right direction if
he did find out how to get there.

He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up as small as possible.
He was alone.

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

Tarou awoke to the warmth of the sun on his face.  He stood up,
shielding his eyes from the slivers of sunlight that filtered through
the trees and looked out over the concrete sprawl of Tokyo spread out
below him to the east.  It was still early.

He wasn't surprised to see that ex-fem-boy was still asleep, sprawled
half-way off his bedroll and his mouth gaping wide.  Obviously it took
something greater than mere unconsciousness to keep Ranma's mouth shut.
Tarou decided to leave him asleep for as long as possible; he was a
great deal easier to ignore that way.

He prodded the remains of the campfire with a stick: there were still a
handful of live coals.  A few twigs, and some gentle blowing on the
coals, and the fire was soon revived.  He then tossed on a couple of
pieces of wood that were lying nearby, to keep it going while he had a
look around.

The stream was barely ankle-deep but it was crystal clear.  He filled
the kettle and hung it above the fire to heat up, and then put on some
rice to cook.  After checking that Ranma hadn't woken up, he pulled a
bar of soap and washing bucket from his backpack, stripped off and
returned to the stream.

Bracing himself against the cold, Tarou filled the bucket and upended it
over himself.  He tensed as he felt the unfamiliar change in his body:
his chest swelling; hips spreading; other parts disappearing altogether.
It was sickening, his body twisting and shrinking; the complete opposite
of that red-hot surge of power and strength he normally felt during the
transformation to his monster form.  He closed his eyes briefly, to
steady himself.

Awkwardly, he soaped himself, trying to avoid the parts of his body that
didn't feel like they belonged to him, and then rinsed off.  He
tentatively ran his hands over his female body, examining the changes:
his shoulders were narrower, his limbs long and slender.  He flexed a
bicep, frowning at the lack of muscle on his new frame.

He bent down to pick up the soap and bucket, catching a glimpse of his
reflection in the water.  With a growl, he turned and strode back up to
the campsite.  Thankfully, the water in the kettle was hot enough to
change him back; he poured it over his head, relief filling him as his
body returned to normal.

He pulled on his white pants and scaled vest, trying to ignore the image
he had seen reflected in the stream; his own face, instantly
recognisable and hardly changed, atop an obviously female body.  From
somewhere in the back of his mind a thought surfaced, how attractive the
combination had been... how right it looked.  He squashed that thought,
angrily.  At least fem-boy's cursed and normal forms had been different
enough for others to mistake them for two separate people; his could
not.

He checked the rice.  It was cooked.

"Hey fem-boy, wake up." Tarou called.  He gave the sleeping Ranma an
impatient nudge with his foot.  No response.  With a grin, he upended
his water bottle over the pig-tailed boy, who instantly woke up with an
indignant - and now porcine - squeal.

"Bwee! Bweeeeee!"

Chuckling, Tarou emptied the last of the kettle on the little pig,
transforming it into an angry, wet Ranma.

"What'd you do that for, you big jerk?!" Ranma yelled, folding his arms
across his chest.  "You could've just woken me up normally!"

"I tried," Tarou replied, smirking.  "Besides, I prefer this way."  He
handed a bowl of rice to Ranma.  "Eat up.  It's time to get going."

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

Ranma and Tarou set off shortly after breakfast and continued further
into the mountains looking for signs of Ryouga, but finding none.
Whatever mood Tarou had been in the day before that had kept him civil
had left as of that morning, and, as the day wore on, was acting more
and more prickly and irritable, throwing around insults and snide
remarks at every opportunity.  Naturally, Ranma had responded by calling
the other boy by his name, and before long, all conversation between the
two had degenerated into name calling and exchanging blows as they
walked.

As the afternoon wore on, heavy storm clouds began to roll in and a cool
wind began to blow in short, damp gusts.  Ranma decided to make camp
early and hurriedly pitched the tent, finishing only minutes before the
first rain drops fell.

Ranma opened the tent-flap and peered into the darkness.  He had known
the storm was still raging outside, but the act of checking took his
mind off the storm brewing inside the tent.

"So let me just sum up our situation.  Your moronic friend can get lost
walking down the street.  He can now fly, so you have no idea if he's
even still in Japan.  On top of that, your brilliant plan to track him
down consists of what?  Strolling around Japan until he just decides to
show up?!"

Oh gods, Ranma thought, here we go again.  Admittedly, his plan didn't
seem quite so stellar when spelt out like that, but the sheer smugness
of the Chinese boy and his obvious enjoyment of yet another verbal
sparring match was making his fists itch.  "Well, he usually does just
show up.  There've been heaps of times when we've run into each other
while out training or something."

"Young love," Tarou interjected sarcastically, clasping his hands over
his heart.

Ranma paused, his head cradled in his hands, fighting back the urge to
clout the other boy over the head.  "Besides, someone's gotta have seen
him," he continued.  "Maybe Nabiki's got some leads.  A two story tall
butt-ugly, tentacled, flying monster doesn't just disappear."  He
grinned as Tarou bristled at the insult.

"And who were you going to ask, genius?  It was your idea to avoid other
people."

"Because that's what Ryouga will be doing.  Unless he's found a way to
change back, he'll be hiding."

"From you?"

"From everyone.  He won't like scaring people, and when he gets upset he
tends to disappear."

"Do I need to guess who normally upsets him?" Tarou smirked.

"You'd know all about upsetting people!  It's all you ever do.  Ever
wondered why you got no friends?  It's got nothin' to do with your name.
It's just you, Pantyhose!"

"Shut up!  And stop calling me that!!"

Ranma never even saw it coming.  A swift kick sent him flying out into
the rain, instantly triggering the pig curse.  He gave an involuntarily
whimper as his whole body constricted and shrunk around him, his mind
seeming to contract in on itself.

Growling, Ranma bounded back into the tent and launched himself at
Tarou's face, scrabbling with his little hooves furiously.

"Cool it, piggy," the Chinese boy said, seizing the piglet by the scruff
of the neck.  "I quite like pork," he added, a dangerous glint in his
eyes.

Ranma struggled against the vice-like grip, his flush of rage
unexpectedly engulfed by waves of terror rising up from the back of his
piglet brain.  His heart was racing; beating so fast it was practically
humming in his chest.  He fought to push the fear away; telling himself
that Tarou was only teasing, but his rational mind had completely lost
control to the survival instincts of the little pig.

Tarou chuckled, apparently enjoying the little pig's reaction, and then
lowered Ranma to the floor.  "Tomorrow morning, we are going to head
back down to that village we saw before we made camp, and find out if
anyone has seen any trace of your friend."  The phrase 'your friend' had
been spat out contemptuously, as though it were even more of an insult
than any of his standard derogatory nicknames.  "And when you phone
home, I suggest you get Nabiki to expand her search area to outside
Japan.  That idiot could be half-way across China by now."  He pressed
his hand to the side of the kettle and smiled.  "The water's gone cold.
I guess you'll be spending the night like that."

Ranma's heartbeat didn't slow completely until Tarou had curled up on
his bedroll.  He walked over to his own bedroll and lay down.  Ranma
knew he was no coward, but he was stunned to realise how completely
helpless he had been in the face of such abject terror.  Had he actually
been in danger, could he have regained enough control to save himself?

Ryouga had almost been eaten on several occasions.  He remembered Ryouga
telling him how he had nearly been turned into sweet and sour pork at
Jusenkyou.  Later, Shampoo had tried to cook him for Ranma's lunch.
What else had the lost boy faced while alone out here in the mountains?
He couldn't blame Ryouga for wanting to be rid of his curse; maybe he'd
be happier as a monster than a helpless, tiny, black piglet.

Ranma heard Tarou's breathing slow, indicating that the Chinese boy had
fallen asleep.  He wondered how long it would be before the two had a
serious fight.  Not that he would mind giving the jerk a thrashing,
especially after tonight, but he didn't want to risk having Tarou leave.
He couldn't risk the Chinese boy finding Ryouga and a cure without him,
and although he didn't like to admit it, he knew just how long he would
survive if he were abandoned out here in piglet form.

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

The next morning, Ranma awoke to the mingled smells of wood smoke and
... roast chicken?  He sniffed again.  Whatever it was, it smelt good.

He nosed open the tent flap and peered outside.  The rain had stopped,
quite recently judging by the amount of water on the ground, but it was
still overcast.  Despite the damp, Tarou had managed to get a fire
going, and he had put on some rice to cook.  Somehow, he had also
caught, plucked and gutted two small ducks, which were now skewered
rotisserie style over the fire.  Best of all, the kettle was sitting
beside the fire, still steaming.

Tarou himself was in nearby clearing, moving quickly and fluidly through
a series of difficult katas.  He was very good, Ranma admitted
grudgingly.  Ranma's own style was very fast and graceful, but the other
boy moved like a dancer.  His skill did not lie with simply with his
speed though; he could put a deceptive amount of power behind his kicks
and punches as well.

When he'd finished, Tarou returned to the fire and rotated the ducks.
They appeared to be cooked.

"Bweee!" Ranma squealed.  He sat down by the kettle and gave it a tap
with his hoof to attract attention.  Tarou stared down at him intently
for several moments, and then picked up the kettle and poured a stream
of hot water over him.  Ranma sighed with relief.  The Chinese boy
seemed to be in a slightly better mood this morning; perhaps it would be
best to try and keep him that way.

"Thanks, man."

Ranma looked around for the clothes he had lost when he'd transformed in
the rain, and found them slung haphazardly over a low hanging tree
branch.  They were still damp, so he grabbed a spare pair of clothes
from the tent and pulled them on.  He sniffed again.  "Smells good.
Where'd the ducks come from?"

"Where do you think?  I caught them," Tarou said quietly, deftly
separating a duck into portions with a knife.

"With a trap?"

"No.  With a stick."  Tarou picked up a foot long length of wood, and
mimed throwing it with a low, sweeping motion before tossing it onto the
fire.  "You've never had to hunt for yourself?"

"Not really.  Pop and me used to fish sometimes.  Mostly we just bought
stuff."  Or stole it, Ranma thought to himself.  Or went hungry.  "So,
is this an apology or something?"

"What?"

"You know... for tossin' me out into the rain and stuff."

The withering glance he received indicated exactly what Tarou thought of
that idea.  "Don't flatter yourself," he snorted contemptuously.  "This
is just what I'd normally do if I didn't have you hanging around."

So much for trying to keep the jerk in a good mood, Ranma thought.  "I
guess you do this a lot, huh?"

"None of your business." Tarou muttered.

"Hey, I was just being friendly," Ranma said, raising a hand
placatingly.

Tarou's grey eyes locked onto Ranma's, observing him coolly.  He handed
Ranma some meat and a bowl of rice, and then sat down with his own.

"Thanks.  I guess I'm lucky it's not pork, right?"

Tarou chuckled.  "I figured you wouldn't taste very good anyway."

Ranma tasted the duck cautiously; Tarou had apparently found something
in Kasumi's travelling supplies to season it with.  "Hey, this is really
good," he said appreciatively.  He took a bigger bite.

"It should be.  This is how I live."

Ranma barely heard the words, they had been said so quietly.  "Really?
So you got no home or nothing?"

"No"

"What about your village?"

"What about it?  Don't get me wrong, I choose to live like this," Tarou
said, the barest hint of defiance entering his voice.

"Why?  Don't you have family?"

"None of your business."

Tarou gave Ranma a stern look and continued eating.  Realising that the
other boy wasn't going to be answering any further questions, Ranma did
the same.

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

By late morning, the two boys had arrived at a small town nestled in a
valley.  Tarou had been surprised that his idiot travelling companion
hadn't argued about going there, especially since he hadn't been in much
shape to argue last night.  He detested having to spend time with Ranma,
but at least with the cross dresser did seem to be making an effort to
be less irritating this morning.  Maybe Ranma wasn't the type to hold a
grudge, or perhaps he just come to terms with who had the brains of the
pair.  And besides, Tarou thought to himself with a smile, he had a
vested interest in getting fem-boy back to his original form.

He looked around to confirm that Ranma was still talking on the phone.
He had talked to the middle Tendou girl for several minutes.  From the
sound of it she hadn't found out anything useful, but Tarou had been
pleased to hear Ranma take his advice and ask her to start checking for
sightings across all of Asia.  He had then asked for Akane, at which
point Tarou had moved out of earshot; the last thing he needed to hear
was Ranma fumbling his way through a conversation with his fianc�.

He heard the click as Ranma hung up the phone.

"She didn't find anything?"

"No," Ranma answered as he approached, "but she'd come up with a long
list.  It took us a while to go through it.  She said something about
lights in the sky near here though... you didn't splash yourself with a
spring that adds the ability to glow in the dark, did you?"

"Spring of Drowned Firefly?" he chuckled.  "No."

"Time to start asking around, I guess."

The first door they came to was opened by a dainty, middle-aged woman.
Ranma gave her a broad smile and swaggered forward.

"Excuse me.  I'm Ranma Saotome of the Anything Goes School of Martial
Arts," he said.  He gestured towards Tarou, eyes glinting mischievously.
"And this is..."

Tarou's heart sank.  He should have known better than to think that
Ranma wouldn't take advantage of such a perfect opportunity to humiliate
him.  "Don't," he warned quietly.

Ranma continued, laughing, "...his name is..."

"Shut up!" Tarou growled, clouting the pig-tailed boy over the head with
a fist.

"Okay, he's sorta my sidekick," Ranma conceded, rubbing the back of his
head.  "Anyway, we're tracking down a dangerous monster that's s'posed
to be hanging around here.  Have you heard anything about it?"

The woman eyed the two of them warily.

"Fighting monsters is a sacred part of a martial artist's duty," Ranma
added, striking what he presumably thought to be a heroic pose.

The woman apologised and closed the door.

"I think you scared her," Ranma offered, sniggering.

"No, that was you being an idiot."  Tarou cuffed the other boy over the
head.  "Sidekick?" he snorted disgustedly.

"Oh, so you'd prefer Pant-"

Ranma's next words were cut off abruptly when Tarou clamped a hand
firmly over his mouth.  Surprisingly, the pig-tailed boy didn't
struggle, but instead just looked up at him, blue eyes still twinkling
with merriment.

"Shut up!  Just ...don't call me that.  And I'm not your sidekick."
Tarou slowly released his grip on Ranma's mouth, and they starting
walking on towards the next house.  "I'll do it myself.  That way you
won't screw things up."

"Lemme guess," Ranma said, rolling his eyes, "you're gonna beat it out
of them?"

"I don't beat up people for no reason," Tarou growled.

None of the next dozen people they interviewed had seen or heard
anything either.  It was starting to look as though Ryouga hadn't been
through the area.

"No, I haven't seen anything but Kaitou told me that something big had
gotten into his garden.  You should ask him.  He lives in the last house
on this street, on the left."

It didn't sound like much of a lead but, being the only one they had,
Tarou and Ranma went to investigate.  Kaitou, as it turned out, had
several fruit trees in his back yard which had been destroyed by an
animal sometime during the night.

"I don't know what kind of animal could have done this, though." the old
man said.  "Whatever did it was really big.  It even stripped the fruit
off the tops of the trees.  It left tracks everywhere too... cloven
hooves, like a pig or a cow."

With a smirk, Tarou turned to Ranma who grinned back at him.  "That
sounds like our monster.  Could we see your yard?"

The old man hadn't been exaggerating: the orchard was a mess.  The fence
had been knocked down, and every one of the fruit trees had been
completely stripped of fruit, and by something either clumsy or in a
great hurry judging by the discarded branches on the ground.  More
conclusively though, there were hoof prints the size of dinner plates
dug into the soft ground: the hoof prints of a giant ox.

Tarou bent down to examine a hoof print.  It had water in it, and had
been partially washed away; Ryouga had been here not too long before the
end of the storm last night.  He looked up to see Ranma following the
tracks away from the orchard.  Apparently ex-pig-boy was on foot, which
would make it much easier to track him down.  Things were looking up.

Tarou jogged over to Ranma.  "He's about twelve hours ahead.  If he's
stayed walking, we should be able to catch him by sunset."

"What are we waiting for, then?  Let's go."

The hoof prints were obvious enough to allow the two boys to follow them
easily at a jog, a pace they could both keep up for hours on end.  The
tracks led in a vague, meandering path, but were generally headed in the
direction of the mountains.

"Is the idiot incapable of walking in a straight line?" Tarou asked with
a smirk.

"Yeah, pretty much."

By late afternoon, the two boys were high in the mountains.  The clouds
in the sky had thickened ominously, and the wind blew in gusts, cool and
thick with moisture.  Tarou could smell damp earth on the wind: rain
wouldn't be far off.  He pulled his cloak out of his backpack and draped
it around his shoulders.  He turned around to Ranma who had been
watching him in bewilderment; the pig-tailed boy's expression soon
turned to shocked realisation.

"I knew I forgot something!" Ranma groaned.

"What?"

"I didn't bring an umbrella or anything!  I'm such an idiot!"

"Looks like we finally agree on something," Tarou said smoothly.

"What do I do?  I'll turn into a pig!"

"Hope I'm wrong about the rain, porkchop."

Smirking, Tarou hoisted his backpack back onto his shoulders, and both
boys set off again at a run.  He was astonished how anyone with a
Jusenkyou curse could forget about the weather.  He always had his cloak
with him, and he had seen the big red umbrella that Ryouga carried.
Fem-boy was obviously even denser than he had imagined; either that or
perhaps he didn't dislike his girl body as much as claimed to.

There was a rumble of thunder and then the rain began to fall in fat,
cold drops.

"Bweeeee!!"

At the noise, Tarou stopped and turned to the piglet.  It was sitting on
the ground, looking pathetically up at him.  Just then, an ear-splitting
bovine roar came echoing through the trees: they had caught up with
Ryouga.

Quick as a flash, Tarou scooped up Ranma's backpack and sprinted off in
the direction of the noise.  They might not get another chance to catch
Ryouga; the little idiot pig would have to catch up as best it could.

Tarou caught sight of Ryouga-monster milling around in a large clearing
between the trees.  He dropped the backpacks on the ground and
approached the huge beast.  It returned his gaze, cautiously at first,
then with increasing anger.  It stepped forward, clenching a massive
fist.  Tarou raised his fists in an offensive stance.

"You think I won't fight you in that body, is that it?" he asked,
quietly amused.  "I know what that body is capable of, I know its
weaknesses.  So, you can come quietly or not.  It's all the same to me."


Ryouga-monster lumbered forward, huge fist swinging down towards him.
Tarou waited until it was almost on top of him, and then nimbly dodged
out of the way, smirking.  This boy was much slower than he had been in
this body; this should be easy.  Ryouga lunged again, faster this time;
Tarou dodged again and ducked around behind him.

"I thought you'd at least make this challenging for me."

Ryouga growled and then rushed forward faster, his fist outstretched.
Tarou evaded the fist easily, and darted around behind the monster
again.  As he had anticipated, the beast swung around in an attempt to
catch him but its comparatively tiny hooves could not find enough
purchase in the mud.  One leg twisted under it awkwardly and it fell to
the ground with a howl of pain.  Before it had a chance to rise, Tarou
sprung up onto the creature's head and aimed a series of devastating
punches to its eyes.

The next thing Tarou knew, his cloak had been seized in the beast's
fingers and he was dangling in the air.  With a dismissive flick of the
huge fingers, he was sent flying through the air and landed heavily on
his back.  He groaned in pain, cursing himself for not having removed
the cloak earlier.

He carefully worked his way to his feet, and threw the cloak aside.
Immediately, the rain washed over his body, triggering his
transformation.  This had to be one of the few times he hadn't wanted to
trigger his curse during a fight, he thought wryly.  He hadn't wanted to
fight in this weaker body, but keeping the cloak on had been a dangerous
and stupid mistake.

Ryouga-monster had lumbered to his feet.  He was limping badly; his leg
looked as though it had been badly sprained, but not broken, Tarou noted
with surprise.  The creature lunged towards him again, a single finger
outstretched.  Puzzled, Tarou side-stepped the finger easily.  It
impacted the ground, causing the earth around it to shatter in a massive
explosion.  He was flung through the air again along with a bunch of
boulders.

He landed roughly, twisting out of the path of two enormous rocks that
would otherwise have crushed him.  That was Bakusai Tenketsu, he
thought.  It was an old Joketsuzoku trick, one he should have recognised
sooner.  That explained why his opponent was so tough.  It would be
worthless trying to trick him into hitting himself with those boulders.

Ryouga-monster stepped forward again and jabbed a finger into the
ground, angled away from him so that the resultant blast was directed
forward towards Tarou.  Then, as the Chinese boy leapt to avoid it, he
jabbed at the ground again and again, filling the air with flying
boulders.  In midair, Tarou was unable to dodge the incoming onslaught
and was struck from the left by what felt like a flying mountain.  The
force of the impact smashed it apart and he plummeted to the ground
amidst the rubble.

Pain engulfed him, emanating from his shoulder.  His left shoulder joint
was grossly swollen and was sitting too far forward.  He hoped it was
dislocated rather than broken, but in any case it would be useless for
the rest of the fight.  Dazed, Tarou staggered to his feet and wiped a
trickle of blood away from his mouth, fighting down waves of nausea.
His whole body ached and it hurt to breathe.  He prodded his side
gingerly; by the feel of it, he had also cracked several of his ribs.

Curiously, Ryouga hadn't tried to close the gap between them again.  The
beast simply stood there calmly, its wrists pressed together and its
palms cupped outwards towards him.
Tarou blinked.  The world seemed to explode in a white-hot burst of
light and pain, knocking him to the ground.  It was heavy and dark, and
yet somehow blinding and it pressed him into the earth so he couldn't
move an inch.  It was pressing him down and swirling inside him and he
couldn't breathe.  Finally the light passed; he closed his eyes and let
the darkness swallow him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Rebecca
email: rmthornton (AT) gmail (DOT) com

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