[FFML] Quantum Destinies 32 (1 of 2)

[Jurai Knight]

(Because of the length, I have split this into two parts)

*** Earth 0.000, 0.000 (-11.33280 Years)

Beyond the walls of the Ministry of Science, a lone figure dressed in
casual clothing sat at one of the cafés near the massive structure. A
steaming cup of tea sat before him. The vapors carried a pleasant aroma to
his nostrils.

“You picked a rather pleasant spot to have a meeting,” said the small,
wizened figure of Director Sakuranbo, leader of the famed and feared Mobius
Institute. Dressed in a grey business suit, he casually removed his
sunglasses and set them on the table. Two extremely severe-looking
bodyguards wearing identical sunglasses to the Director’s remained a
respectful distance away from the pair, but they appeared ready to commit
mayhem on anyone arousing his ire at a moment’s notice. “I may not return
to the office after this,” he joked, his tones as dry as sun-bleached bone.

The Seer turned the milky-white orbs of his eyes to the Director of the
Mobius Institute and smiled. It was an unsettling image. “The day draws
closer that you will retire from your position,” he commented mildly.

“That day can’t come soon enough,” the elderly man snorted mirthlessly,
recalling the paperwork he still had waiting for him on his desk for his
review. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope. He set
it on the table near the cup of tea the Seer had sitting in front of him.
“Your latest information proved to be pivotal again.”

The blind man nodded and paused before placing his hand down on the
envelope. Through his Sight, he continuously observed the people around
them who monitored the other man’s movements, some originating from the
Security Directorate and others who answered to groups like Shadowlaw or
even the distant Ottoman Empire. There were numerous pathways that would
allow him to avoid their clutching grasp when his meeting with Director
Sakuranbo was over. He took in all of their possible future actions
regarding him, along with his Sight’s prophetic revelation of the contents
of the envelope when he eventually opened it.

“You’ve given me a bonus this time.” He placed his hand down on the
envelope, packed thick with yen notes. “While I am honored at your
generosity, the amounts you’ve previously given me have been quite
sufficient. You do not need to add anything extra to my payments.” He took
the envelope and placed it within a coat pocket. In truth, he did not even
need the money, as being able to observe the future provided ample
opportunities to acquire such a triviality as money with little effort, but
taking it eased the other man’s concerns about his motives. This minor
action extinguished several troublingly dangerous branching pathways to the
future in the process.

“Your lack of greed is humbling,” Director Sakuranbo said solemnly with a
nod. “Others possessing your information could ask for more princely sums
in payment for sharing it.” He smiled thinly when the very pretty waitress
in the short skirt and thigh-high socks timidly approached them and set a
cup of steaming hot tea in front of him. The savory aroma wafted up to his
nostrils. He had always loved a good cup of tea, and this café was one of
the better ones in the area. He resolutely kept his gaze away from
following her shapely derriere and legs as she departed from them, his
attention remaining firmly focused on the cup of freshly-brewed tea
instead, relaxing only when she was out of sight.

The Seer picked up his teacup when his companion did, and they both sipped.
They enjoyed a few moments of silence together. He then turned his blind
gaze to the other man.

“Your control of your desires is strong,” he remarked casually.

“You’re about the only one left in this world who could comment on that,”
Director Sakuranbo said mildly. “I was a much different man then, in many
ways, as you well know.”

“Yes, you were.” There was a pause as the Seer sipped his tea again and
then set the cup down. “You could have followed a different path. You were
given that option.”

“After a fashion, I suppose I was,” the elderly man said grimly. “But after
you and the kimonoed witch did your ‘Christmas Carol’ treatment to me,
showing me what I would have become unless I changed my life’s course, I
was left with little choice but to agree to your offer.”

He paused.

“However, with that said, I have very few regrets about the path I’ve
followed since that day. I gained a family, honor, colleagues, a small army
of underlings who obey my every command, the respect of two successive
Emperors and a niece who adores me.” His gaze turned a bit inward.

“The price I paid, no longer being able to indulge my baser desires and
petty whims whenever the urge struck me, I suppose losing that was a
relatively small thing in comparison.” He took a sip of his tea, the flavor
savory on his tongue. “It would certainly shock those that knew me then,
but I don’t really miss being that man anymore. I’m sure no one else ever
really missed him either.”

“Sakura has grown to be a very promising young priestess.” The Seer sipped
some more tea, changing the subject before the other man became morose.
“She’ll be graduating from the Institute soon with high honors, correct?”

“Yes,” Director Sakuranbo replied with pride, smiling. “She shows great
promise in her mystical abilities. I just worry a bit about her lack of
social skills with boys. After her graduation, I’ve been considering
partnering her with another priestess her age that is far more popular
among their male peers. My hope is that being around her will shake
Sakura-chan up a little, so the girl can learn to enjoy life much more than
she seems to now.”

The Seer nodded but did not comment.

After finishing his tea, Director Sakuranbo stood up and then put his
sunglasses back on, a bemused look on his face. “Listen to me, rambling on
like this with you about my young niece’s social life. I sound like some
old woman.” There was a pause as a grimace briefly crossed his face at that
notion. “Feel free to contact me by the usual means the next time you wish
to pass along any information to me. Perhaps we can have tea together again
sometime.”

The Seer nodded and watched the other man and his two bodyguards leave. He
opened up his Sight fully for several moments, ignoring the spikes of pain
as he beheld the infinite worlds streaming off into the future distance,
several disparate timelines linking together in intriguing ways in only a
scant few years. The strain on his body from using his abilities in such a
way caused droplets of blood to begin dribbling from his nose, a warning
that he was in danger of suffering far worse things than the blindness
already inflicted upon him. He briefly faced towards the Ministry of
Science, nodding once in its general direction before departing on his way,
dabbing absently at the drying blood on his upper lip with a silk
handkerchief.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*** Earth 0.000, 0.000 (-11.32942 Years)

The heart rate monitor gave off a regular beeping sound as Genma sat next
to Ranma’s bed in a metal chair. His son’s fever was climbing again, and
the doctors weren’t sure if the boy was going to survive the night, due to
the Eucharist symbiote’s unexpectedly intense struggle with his immune
system. He leaned forward and laced his hands together, resting his chin on
them as he watched over Ranma solemnly. It was quiet in this section of the
Ministry of Science, and he was grateful for that.

He had been so certain that his son’s body would accept the symbiote easily
after seeing the results of the boy’s genetic profile. Ranma had seemed to
be a nearly perfect candidate for it, and his DNA markers had pointed
towards a successful symbiosis occurring without difficulties. But there
must have been something that was missed, some random factor in the boy’s
genetic code. Looking at his son now as he laid so still, Genma felt his
anger build, one directed at himself and at his own arrogance. In danger of
losing his only child, his son and heir, the guilt he felt was almost
unbearable.

After Nodoka’s miscarriage, an event taking place during the first year
after they were married, they had decided to wait a while and consult with
doctors before trying again to have a child. Their relatives had been very
supportive of them during that difficult time, especially his wife’s great
aunt, a relative of Nodoka’s he had never met, Furuderika Kamiya, who had
written his wife lengthy letters of support. Nodoka had blamed herself for
losing the baby, and, while she had never admitted it to him, he suspected
she was deeply worried that her old injuries, souvenirs from all of the
brutal fights she had gotten into during her teenaged years, had
permanently damaged her internally, preventing her from ever being able to
carry a child to term.

Those violent days of misspent youth that occurred before they met were
never spoken of between them. Both of them preferred to leave that part of
their past buried, preferring to leave all of those old enemies and
vendettas behind them. It was simply better that way, and Genma hoped that
sort of violence never touched his son’s life, assuming he lived through
this night.

Fortunately, the doctors had been able to confirm that Nodoka’s body was
healthy, and her Aunt Furuderika had written several additional letters,
even including some rather profound haikus of her own making, commentaries
on how to deal with loss and the forgiveness of past sins. They had helped
Nodoka heal from the intense emotional trauma of the miscarriage. Genma had
been grateful to the woman for her assistance.

A wealthy, extremely reclusive person, Nodoka’s aunt had done so much for
them, such as deeding a plot of land and a sizable sum of money as a
wedding gift to the young couple, the package arriving by courier when they
returned from their honeymoon in Hawaii with instructions to use them to
build a vacation home away from the city’s bustling crowds. Nodoka had
spent a number of weeks at the newly-completed house as she took some time
to recover her emotional equilibrium, and he had visited as frequently as
he could get away from his duties at the Ministry of Science.

One odd directive that Nodoka’s aunt had been quite firm on was that they
should never, _ever_ drink the local water, only bottled water from other
regions of Japan. Genma was never sure why, as he was not aware of any
contamination in the area, and nothing could be found in the Ministry of
Science’s records concerning the village of Hinamizawa when he looked. The
warning was likely due to some minor pathogen present in the local water
supply. Not wishing to risk dealing with gastrointestinal distress or any
other maladies, he and Nodoka had obeyed this instruction without fail,
always drinking and cooking only with bottled water whenever they used
their vacation house.

During that time, they had been befriended by a few of the families living
there, people unused to outsiders coming to their village and unsure what
to make of him and Nodoka suddenly owning property there. One family, the
Sonozakis, had initially been rather suspicious and sternly disapproving at
first, but Nodoka’s plight had quickly softened their hearts, especially
that of the elderly matriarch of that clan, Oryou. Genma was certain they
were all yakuza upon first sight of them but had been too intimidated by
the scary old woman’s stern-looking bodyguards to inquire about it whenever
she and her retinue of heavies had paid a visit to Nodoka to chat and drink
tea together.

He learned from some others in the village that Oryou had a daughter named
Akane, but he and Nodoka were never able to meet her. She had apparently
married a man that the clan matriarch did not approve of, an outsider to
the village, causing her to be cut off from inheriting anything, and so she
lived in one of the nearby villages with her husband. The couple had a
young daughter named Mion that Oryou doted on, a girl who, by every account
Genma ever heard of her, was quite a tomboyish little minx that caused all
kinds of trouble. If he recalled correctly, she would now be about eleven
years old, living with Oryou in the Sonozaki compound, training to take
over as the new head of the family someday.

The Furudes had been a bit more open to strangers entering into their
village. The young couple running the large shrine had been intrigued to
learn the name of Nodoka’s great aunt, finding it coincidental that it was
so similar to their own family name. The wife was apparently so taken by
the sound of Furuderika’s name that she eventually named her own daughter
Rika when she was born, the girl arriving into the world several weeks
after Ranma’s own birth.

Genma realized suddenly that they had not visited that house in a few
years, staying there only once since Ranma was born, when the boy was still
just an infant. The most recent news he had of the place came from one of
his colleagues reporting that the village was in the midst of some kind of
turmoil lately. It seemed the Empire wanted to build a fusion plant there
to help feed Tokyo’s eternally growing power needs, which would require
diverting a portion of the water from a nearby river to help cool it. A
number of villagers were fearful that this would anger their local god,
causing the “Curse of Oyashiro-sama” to befall those who defiled the river
and the swamp it fed.

>From what he had heard, the Empire was working hard on appeasing their
superstitious concerns, even bringing in consultants from the Mobius
Institute to investigate any possible supernatural elements in the region
that might become irritated by construction. So far they had not found much
to be concerned about, but both of the espers dispatched there reported an
odd sensation, as if some spirit was observing them. Despite its
creepiness, the enigmatic presence did not display any sort of malevolence
towards them as they went about their investigations. It just seemed to
follow them around as if curious, and they noticed it most often when they
were poking around the Furude Shrine.

What was proving to be a more fruitful means of pacifying opposition to
construction from the locals were the guarantees of employment being made
to those in the village, as upwards of two hundred local people could end
up working at the facilities once they were completed. The fusion plant was
expected to create an economic boom in the region, currently a bit
disadvantaged in recent years. As hiring locals simply made the best sense,
it was also easing resistance to the project as word spread among the
villagers that better economic times were ahead of them. Support for the
project was still split though, with some of the families remaining
stubbornly opposed to it.

One of the local families was currently entrusted with handling the
vacation property’s modest caretaking requirements for a fee. As that
arrangement with the Ryugus had been put into place and funded by Aunt
Furuderika before she suddenly and unexpectedly passed away shortly after
Ranma’s birth, Genma wasn’t even sure how much they were being paid to keep
things maintained. This arrangement was being handled by a trust the
enigmatic woman had set up, overseen by an attorney who lived in the
village.

For her own inexplicable reasons, Aunt Furuderika had also bequeathed to
Ranma a stunningly substantial inheritance in her will, a lavish sum
currently safeguarded in a special trust for him that was managed by a law
firm located in Tokyo. The trust would provide Ranma enough wealth when he
came of age that he should likely never need to worry about money at all
for his entire life.

Some of Genma’s very best thinking had occurred in that house, writing
several of the papers he had later published to modest academic acclaim as
he began to develop his controversial theories postulating parallel worlds
and alternate timelines. There was something about that tranquil village of
some two thousand souls, an insular spot of the Empire hidden away from the
rest of the world, a peaceful place where nothing much ever seemed to
happen, that just seemed to inspire his thoughts on the subject of a
multiverse of divergent histories. Although the local breed of cicadas
there could get quite loud in summertime with their trilling cries, they
did not distract him away overly much from his ponderings on the
mathematical intersections of cosmology and ontology.

Ranma had even been conceived in that village, Genma mused with great
solemnity while gazing down at his son’s small form. After taking a solo
trip to Kyoto for several days to visit several temples and shrines to pray
for a child and meditate on the sins of her past, Nodoka had later returned
to him spiritually refreshed, her emotional strength restored to that of
the woman he had married. She had even said a prayer at the temple to
Hinamizawa’s local god when she came back, just in case it would help.
Their reunion the night of her return had been both passionate and jubilant.

Nine months later, Ranma was born, to their great joy. Despite having a
detailed scientific knowledge of the biological processes that were
involved in reproduction, his son’s birth had still seemed like nothing
less than a miracle to Genma, wiping away the sorrows of what he and Nodoka
had gone through. He was thankful to whatever god or spirit his wife’s
prayers had appeased, that had given them the blessing of this child.

“Rest, Saotome-hakase,” said a mild voice behind him. He started to turn
around, but then sleep took him before he could. Falling forward heavily,
his head and shoulders came to rest on Ranma’s bed.

Bernkastel emerged from the shadows and stood next to the slumbering
scientist, gazing down solemnly at Ranma as he sweated and twitched in
fever dreams, his small body struggling for life. Her efforts had entered
the final preparatory phase, and ensuring the life of the boy she had taken
a personal hand in creating was the last remaining adjustment she needed to
make to this timeline, each of her changes orchestrating future events into
following the scenario she had prepared for this world. This boy’s
existence was the linchpin to her planned endgame, and he needed to survive
until he had completed his part of her grand scheme, to be the means she
would use to enable either Nabiki Tendo or Ukyo Kuonji to fulfill their
future role as the designated hero and leader of the cast of characters
that would someday form around them.

Final victory was almost within her grasp, the thought bringing a smile to
her face. After playing this game against her foe so many different times
and fashioning so many different gambits to achieve victory against him,
she had taken all she had learned and carefully crafted her plan for this
final world, covering every variation she had seen enacted on prior ones.
She was certain nothing would frustrate her designs this time.

Her strategy was brilliant. She even dared to consider it flawless.

Once she set this final piece on the board and let the scenario begin
running, this concluding game would be hers to win.

At long last, the Shogun of the Dark, the enemy king, would finally be
eliminated from play, and all the game boards would then belong to her
alone.

Her hand flaring with arcane power, the witch loomed over the small boy, a
wicked smile appearing upon her face.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quantum Destinies
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
By S. Thesken aka Jurai Knight (qd_author at hotmail.com)

Ranma 1/2 and its characters are owned by Rumiko Takahashi. This story is
inspired by her works and the stories from some of my fellow fanfic
authors. Among these are D.B. Sommer’s “Shampoo 1/2”, Jim Bader’s “A Very
Scary Thought -aka- Nabiki 1/2”, and John Biles’ Elseworlds series. All C&C
is welcome.

Other chapters of this story may be found at this website, or you can email
the author for them:

http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3764932/


The list of worlds reoccurring in this chapter:
Earth 0.000, 0.000 - The world of Scholar Ranma (Baseline cluster)


What has gone before in this story (or at least what will help you
understand what is going on):

On a parallel Earth that diverged from the standard Ranma timeline over
five hundred years ago, the Empire of Japan rules almost half the world and
has done so for almost a century. Theorizing that one could travel to
alternate timelines by possessing counterparts in them, a young scientist
named Ranma Saotome, through use of a device of his own invention,
accidentally obtained the skills and memories of a martial artist version
of himself. The last chapter showed glimpses of the many alternate
possibilities for Ranma Saotome and the people he knows.

On one timeline, Centurion Ranma Saotome, a loyal soldier of the Musk
Dynasty, and his father, Tribune Genma Saotome, made their plans for the
future and contemplated their pasts. The aftermath of the meteor impact on
“Shampoo 1/2”’s Earth continued to play out. Actor-Ranma met the Kodachi
Kuno of his world, and there was discussion of his next movie roles. A
psychotic, murderous version of Nabiki Tendo, the one that existed on the
alternate version of Imperial Earth that Kodachi Kuno used the resonator to
flee from, managed to make her escape before the Empire’s final destruction
there, arriving on the capital world of the Musk Dynasty. She promptly took
the life of her counterpart there, another version of Nabiki Tendo she had
previously experienced using a resonator device on her original world. On a
tangent where the Empire had unified the world under Japanese rule, the
Ranma of that world battled with his version of Shampoo, but he failed once
again to conquer her. Professor Saotome and Soun Tendo visited Solnoid
Prime, accompanied by the Nodoka and Kimiko of that tangent. Ranko and
Ranma Kamiya, female and male counterparts to Imperial Earth’s Ranma,
watched them arrive at their adoptive mother’s hotel. At the end, General
Ko Em learned of her daughter’s fate, that she might remain alive on a far
distant tangent.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 32 – The Price Of Victory

     Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
     Through passion, I gain strength.
     Through strength, I gain power.
     Through power, I gain victory.
     Through victory, my chains are broken.

                         - From the “Code of the Sith”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


*** Earth 0.000, 0.000

In his room on the Saginomiya estate, the man known as Nanashi suddenly
opened his eyes, kept closed during his meditations. The household was
quiet, his two students finally asleep after an interesting course of
events earlier that evening, events following their training session with
him. The pair was ripening nicely in their abilities at battle, and he was
pleased at the pace of their progress. They were proving to be fine
disciples, learning his teachings well.

An almost inaudible sound of rain on cloth could be heard in the garden
outside, a noise that was out of place. Focusing, he could discern a
familiar presence nearby, one that he would not have been able to sense
when he was younger and less experienced at his skills. He remained where
he was, seated on the floor, the discomfort caused by the hard wood beneath
his folded legs ignored. However, the person outside must have noted the
minute changes in his breathing and the energies of his aura, sensing that
Nanashi was aware of his presence.

“I am pleased at how much your abilities have improved, boy.”

Nanashi scowled at that, considering himself a grown man, not still the
callow youth he once was, especially with all that had happened to him
before he found himself here at Saginomiya Manor. After all, he was already
past his nineteenth birthday, not that he had ever bothered to mention that
particular fact to anyone. As he mused on that, the door panel suddenly
slid aside very quietly, revealing the menacing form of Shishio Makoto
dressed in his guise of Cardinal Synn.

Shishio’s dark armorcloth cassock and robes cloaked him in what seemed a
moving patch of deeper shadow in the rainy night outside. His full face
mask concealed his features, the voice modulator in it rendering his tones
a full octave lower than normal while still sounding natural. It was a
petty trick of modern Imperial technology the man employed as part of his
disguise.

“With respect, I am no longer a boy, or your student.” Nanashi stood but
otherwise did not move from where he was as the other man stood at the
entryway solemnly. There was a long pause, and then he said, more
reverently, “Master.”

“It is true that I am no longer your teacher, but I am pleased that the
unfortunate matter of your exile from Shadowlaw has neither rendered you
impolite nor dulled the disciplines I worked so hard to instill within you.”

“I suppose it has not.” Nanashi observed the other man calmly as Shishio
casually inspected the room from where he stood, perhaps checking for
listening devices or spyholes, his cloak dripping slightly as rain beaded
off the cloth. “Did you wish something of me, sir?”

“I merely wish to confirm something I have heard from my sources in this
area, that your mother has visited you recently,” said Shishio in a
nonchalant fashion, almost as if he was discussing the weather. “How is
she? Is she still looking fit?”

“Fit enough, I suppose.” Nanashi idly wondered who those sources might be,
even as he felt a momentary twinge of discomfort discussing his mother’s
physical conditioning with this man. Would he next ask him to comment about
her appearance? Despite being married and believed by those in Shadowlaw to
be deeply in love with each other, Shishio and his Joketsuzoku wife had a
perverse quality to their relationship, both of them slaking their passions
with others as the mood struck them. “I wasn’t aware you cared overly much
about her whereabouts or doings.”

Shishio turned to face him. “Ordinarily, I would not. It is just a bit odd
that she has been here for a while and remained off the grid, not even
paying a polite social call on my wife for some tea.” There was a pause.
“Do you know what she’s up to lately?”

“Not really. She only mentioned being in the area and wanting to check up
on me, nothing more. Perhaps she has business with someone in Tokyo.”
Nanashi shrugged.

“I see.” Shishio turned to observe the rain falling outside, beyond the
edge of the covered area he stood within. “That woman has ever been an
enigma, except when it comes to your wellbeing. She has always looked out
for you and protected you, ever since the day you were born. Those who knew
her in her younger days when she fought in the Battledome would doubtless
find this maternal quality of hers quite surprising. Then, she had quite a
reputation for brutality and savage viciousness, not nurturing.”

Nanashi shrugged again, choosing to ignore the man’s comments on his
mother’s character, well aware of what she was like, having seen her in
combat against her enemies many times, how utterly merciless she was to
them. “If you wish to find her, the only contact of hers that I’m aware of
is a doctor in the local area, a man named Ono Tofu. She’s mentioned him
once or twice in the past. I think they’re friends of sorts.”

“I’ll keep that name in mind.” There was a pause. “Have you spoken with
your father?”

“I am exiled-” Nanashi started to say.

“I meant your _real_ father,” Shishio interrupted. “Not your adoptive
father, the Shogun.”

Nanashi frowned, his tones becoming a bit harsher. “I have no _real_
father. You know that. It is for that very reason why I chose the name I
did when I was exiled from the only home I had ever known. I am no one, a
freak, so I should have no name. I would not even exist, if it weren’t for
that abhorrent Chinese curse and my mother becoming... enamored with my
biological father’s cursed form.” His right hand twitched once, and he felt
the urge to close it into a fist but forbade himself. His childhood hatred
for his biological father’s abandonment blossomed once again in his heart.

“Do you think your mother would contact your sire?” Shishio was not
comfortable being so diplomatic, finding it more natural to forcibly
extract any information he needed from others outside his inner circle of
associates. But he had always possessed a soft spot for his very best
student and could be polite when the mood struck him. “That person is in
this area.”

Nanashi shrugged again. “I’m not certain, but it is possible.” While it was
a bit of a shock to learn that his biological father was nearby, he hid his
inner turmoil well, his features only betraying a mere flicker of emotion.
His mother didn’t like talking about his real father, apparently harboring
deep-rooted feelings about the matter, so he had stopped asking a long time
ago. The Shogun had been father enough for him during his life, seeing to
it that he was trained in the martial arts and given all the tools he would
need to survive in a harsh and uncaring world.

Even now, even after having to endure the agonies and tremors he had been
punished with by the Shogun’s pet sorcerer and his exile from Shadowlaw to
walk the earth to try and find his place in it, there still remained a bit
of lingering gratitude towards the Shogun for having taken an interest in
him. His exile was his own fault, he could admit that. Someday he would
redeem himself. He remained hopeful of that.

“Your students are doing well?” Shishio asked, suddenly changing the
subject again, perhaps sensing his former student’s angst despite how well
it was concealed. “The Saginomiya girl is an intriguing choice for your
first disciple. We’ve had our eye on that one for some time as a possible
recruit, and the Sanzenin whelp as well. They both show great promise, not
to mention surprisingly corrupt souls for ones so young.”

Nanashi said nothing for several moments, ruminating on that, and then he
nodded. “The two of them are making excellent progress in their martial
skills. I am considering showing them one or two of the more advanced
techniques I know, when I feel they are ready. They are not quite there
yet, but the girl is closer of the two. She is intensely driven to improve
herself and grow stronger.”

“I’d say she’s much like your mother in that respect,” Shishio noted dryly.
He considered the boy’s comment, wondering if that similarity could be a
reason why his former student had taken such an interest in the beautiful
Saginomiya girl, and if Nanashi even realized that might be the cause. He
studied the boy for several moments before speaking again. “Have they ever
mentioned the name of Ranma Saotome around you?”

The younger man shrugged. “Mikado rants about him on occasion. His enmity
towards that one runs very deep.” It was almost as fierce as Mikado’s
obsession with some girl named Ranko, who had apparently done something
rather horrible to the boy that Mikado absolutely refused to discuss.
Nanashi had his own suspicions about what might be the reason for Mikado’s
intense loathing due to the boy’s recent aversion to exposure to cold
water. He was proving quite adept at avoiding the occasional, random
splashes that almost seemed to be targeting him.

Nanashi thought about how he had been able to use the boy’s intense
animosity towards Ranko and Ranma to spur the pampered young nobleman to
new vistas of performance, forging the boy into a far more dangerous
combatant than he had ever been before. Hatred made for an excellent
motivator, something Nanashi knew very well, recalling how his own fury had
driven him to grow far mightier under Shishio’s tutelage than he might have
ever become otherwise. Someday, he would use his hard-won strength to enact
his overdue revenge on the blasphemous freak that had fathered him and then
abandoned him and his mother.

>From conversations with the White Lily, he had come to know that she too
possessed a similar sort of obsession, hers the goal of crushing Kodachi
Kuno, relentlessly driving her body on through all of the pains and trials
of her training. It was rather inspirational to witness as her teacher, the
level of focus she had on someday accomplishing that goal and what she
would willingly suffer to achieve it. Every day she grew a bit stronger,
her body honing into a far more powerful weapon than it had ever been
before they met.

He regarded Shishio. “I saw his performance at the Battledome on
television, fighting the Joketsuzoku girl, Shan Pu. I suspected that his
claim of being the heir to the Anything-Goes School on worldwide television
might draw him some attention from Shadowlaw and others, but I actually did
not expect you to be one of those taking an interest in him, sir.”

“My reasons for inquiring about him should not concern you,” Shishio said
brusquely. “I want you to continue training your two disciples to challenge
Saotome and the Kuno girl. Make them mighty in battle.”

“I shall endeavor to do so.” Nanashi’s tone was bland. He studied the other
man, trying to get a read on Shishio through his body language, but he was
unable to discern anything of note.

Even when they had been master and student, Shishio was an enigma to him,
speaking of the original Shishio Makoto as if he was someone else entirely,
even though his cloned brain possessed every last memory from that previous
life. Resurrected through an unrepeatable, unholy mixture of science and
magic, he was a relic of another time, born in an age when heroes conquered
and the Empire expanded more rapidly than it had at any other time in its
centuries of history, vanquishing even China’s vastness within a scant few
decades. Given the rank of general for his stellar performances on
countless bloody battlefields, his brilliant strategies and tactics
finished off the Empire’s enemies in rapid succession.

History recounted him as a hero, reporting his death in battle foiling a
rebellion against the Empire that had managed to reach all the way to the
imperial throne room, one arising from disaffected elements within Japan’s
samurai caste. His corpse had been preserved by Imperial Decree in
gratitude, held in stasis at the Mobius Institute. While there were
lingering whispers that this order had actually originated from the Shogun
of the Dark, working his will on the Empire from the shadows, such tales
were thought to be heresy. The idea of the Son of Heaven answering to the
Shogun of the Dark was blasphemous.

That being said, the official recount of Shishio’s death was actually a
complete falsehood, concealing that he perished trying to take over the
Empire in an attempt to resurrect the fallen Shogunate’s power. It was a
rebellion he founded and controlled using an assumed identity, not one he
opposed. And he almost won. Because he had concealed his real name while
putting together his insurrection, it was relatively simple for the
government to bury the truth after his death, preserving the myth of his
loyal service to the Empire.

His plans had been halted at the very brink of victory by one man, a name
preserved in song and story as a great and noble hero: Kenshin Himura.
Remembered as the Emperor’s Bodyguard, he was considered the greatest
swordsman of the prior century. The climax of the savage duel he had been
forced to wage against Shishio in defense of the emperor of the time, his
foe a man he had once called his friend, took place right at the very foot
of the Imperial Throne. Injuries sustained during that prolonged struggle
forced Kenshin into a premature retirement, one he quietly spent focused on
his wife and children, and it was said that he never once picked up a sword
again or passed his techniques along to anyone, sealing them away forever,
their power lost to the world.

Over a century later, resurrected into a new life in a body cloned from
that preserved corpse, Shishio Makoto became a general again, only this
time serving within Shadowlaw’s ranks. There, he became a power to be
reckoned with, one of an elect few highly-dangerous men and women who
obeyed the Shogun of the Dark’s will. Among those peers were numerous
rivals and enemies who despised him and his only firm ally was the Tigress,
his gorgeous Joketsuzoku bride. He spent his days plotting and conspiring,
and it was unknown if he was truly loyal to anyone other than the Shogun
who had resurrected him, even his loving, extremely deadly wife.

“Take care of yourself, boy.”

“I will.” Nanashi bowed respectfully, startled from his brief reverie about
the other man’s history. “Thank you, Master.”

A moment later, Shishio was gone, vanished into the night without even a
trace of his passage left behind. Nanashi stared at the rain still falling
heavily outside for a few minutes and then he slid the door closed and
returned to his meditations. He had much to think about.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tiger felt her queasiness climax as her belly clenched tightly and vomit
exploded from her mouth, her stomach emptying more of its contents into the
toilet bowl she stooped next to. When the final, retching spasm was at last
done, she gasped and felt relief rushing through her, finally able to catch
her breath. She remained kneeling there for several moments, hoping that it
was finally over. When she felt somewhat recovered, she stood and flushed
the toilet, gazing down anxiously at its contents as they washed away.

What was wrong with her? Was she sick?

Among her physiology’s many improvements over normal humans, her body’s
immune-response system was a supercharged marvel of bioengineering, able to
shrug off any disease short of a bioweapon. It should have been easily able
to handle any sort of food contamination without causing her any such
difficulties like this. Vomiting was thus a new experience for her. Despite
the novelty, she didn’t care for it at all. When the faint rumbling sounds
in her stomach finally began subsiding, she drank some water from the tap
in the sink, swishing the first couple of mouthfuls around in her mouth and
then spitting them out to rinse the acrid taste of bile from her tongue.

As she drank, she continued to ponder what might be ailing her. She had
missed her last menstrual cycle, something that had never happened to her
before, not even once since her decanting from the inception tank and
entering into her master’s service months ago, causing her to worry that
something could be wrong with her reproductive systems. If she missed the
next one, she would have to consult with the woman who was the primary
designer of her morphology for Genom: Dr. Miyoko Tanashi, the closest
person to a mother Tiger had in her life. She was certain she could trust
Tanashi-sensei to determine the cause of what was wrong with her. After
all, she was one of the most preeminent geneticists and experts on
replicant physiology in the Empire, having studied at the feet of the
legendary Dr. Moreau before coming to work for Genom. She would surely
figure out what was amiss and repair the problem.

After the catgirl’s thirst was quenched, her belly feeling slightly bloated
from all of the water she had swallowed, she shut off the light and emerged
into the hallway, already feeling a bit better. Her current condition was
just a temporary one, she was certain of that, so she felt justified in
keeping this minor issue to herself. She must have eaten something that
disagreed with her when she raided the kitchen a little while ago for a
snack. Why else would she suddenly be nauseous in the early morning hours?

As she stood there, her attention drifted to the door to her master’s room.
She was still suffering in exile for her perceived failures in assisting
her master in his plans for conquering Nabiki Tendo, still sleeping in her
own room rather than sharing his bed like the others. Her ears flattened to
her head in sorrow. How long would she have to suffer like this?

On a whim, she entered the master bedchamber, slipping in very quietly,
suddenly aching to see her beloved. Her catlike eyes adjusted easily to the
gloom, taking in every bit of light available. She approached the bed
silently, padding towards it on bare feet.

Her master slumbered there, his mouth slightly agape as he snored. Next to
him, Lynx rested on her side, sound asleep, her cat ears twitching slightly
in her dreams. She cuddled up against him, her arm lying possessively
across his chest. The other catgirl, Panther, was snoring a little more
ruggedly on his other side, also cuddled snugly against him.

Tiger’s lip curled, studying the pair in distaste, her rivals and nominal
teammates. Sharing him with them troubled her, as these Lynx and Panther
model prototypes were clearly inferior to her own design, but she was not
as bothered by them as by her master’s never-ending fascination with the
horrid Nabiki Tendo. The two rich idiots he had recently wined and dined at
the mansion had no idea they were merely pawns in whatever her master’s new
scheme was against Ranma Saotome, and they would likely never figure it out
until he no longer needed them.

Kinnosuke-sama would never admit it, but after watching the thrilling
spectacle of the Saotome boy and that Chinese barbarian girl in the Arena
battling each other, they had all sensed he was troubled by what they had
witnessed on screen. Tiger frowned at the thought of him ever being unhappy
about anything, both of her ears flattening to her skull in response to her
mood. The four of them had watched the brutal performance together, each
catgirl hooting and cheering loudly each time the Chinese fighter hit
Ranma, especially when she got in a really solid strike on him.

Seeing the Saotome boy in action had been perplexing to Tiger. He was now
fighting on a higher level than he had been able to only weeks before, when
she had been volunteered to assist in training him for his rematch against
the Tenjou girl. The young Chinese girl, a champion fighter in her own
right, seemed close to his current level of ability, perhaps at a rough
parity with him, but his increase in skill was not what disturbed her. The
sight of him after all this time, especially during the brief close-up
shots taken of his face, had aroused tremors of bizarre feelings within
her, conjuring up ghosts of memories that she could not seem to fully
recall, each of them fading quickly even as she tried to grasp them and
ponder them.

It was puzzling to her how Ranma had achieved such a feat over the short
span of a few months it had taken him, going from a non-combatant easily
bullied by the likes of Akane Tendo to the warrior he now was. It was
dismaying to her even to admit it, but, after seeing him in action, she
felt he might even have surpassed Kinnosuke-sama now. She immediately
frowned at that observation. It felt like she was somehow betraying her
master by even considering such a disturbing notion as that was. Still,
maybe having Ranma trounce her beloved master in combat might finally
dissuade him from continuing his irksome quest to obtain Nabiki Tendo as
his bride.

Why did he even want that miserable human girl, anyway? Tiger’s ears went
flat to her skull again, and her hands closed tightly into fists, her short
nails pressed against her palms. She briefly fantasized about wrapping her
fingers around the Tendo girl’s throat and squeezing the life from her as
she gasped and choked. She also mused how satisfying it would feel to pound
Nabiki’s face and body into a bloody pulp before finally killing her. While
it would most certainly be quite gratifying, she had regretfully realized
some time ago that killing her nemesis would not solve the problem.

No, instead of eliminating her predicament through murder, she had to
somehow dissuade her beloved master’s heart away from him desiring the
detestable Tendo girl. She needed him to stop wanting her. Simply killing
her nemesis would not end that, and Nabiki Tendo would likely attain an
eternal purity as one of the honored dead, her many character flaws
whitewashed away once she was gone from this world.

Kinnosuke rolled over to face her, still asleep, and his arm fell to wrap
tightly around Lynx’s body. He pulled her closer, snuggling up against the
catgirl’s pulchritude in his sleep like she was a favorite stuffed animal.
Lynx began purring softly even while she continued slumbering deeply,
looking so happy and contented.

Gazing at the revolting sight, Tiger’s emotions suddenly seethed powerfully
within her. Her personality governors began straining to maintain control
over her as memories started flashing randomly across her mind’s eye;
arbitrary images conjured up from the hidden nadirs of her brain. From
within that brilliant storm, some of these memories seemed to call out to
her, demanding to be seen. If they could make a sound, her governors would
have begun whining in a high-pitched tone like an overstressed
transmission, the subliminal algorithms within her mind struggling to
control her thoughts.

Images of Ranma Saotome began flashing up as her breathing became even
deeper, interrupted by occasional gasps for air caused by her emotional
distress. She suddenly remembered that day she last fought him, the final
one of his training time with her. She had been on the verge of killing him
in a savage fury, incensed at Ranma for using the boost during their
struggle and hurting her. Her powerful grip had tightened upon his throat,
her furious gaze boring into his fear-filled eyes.

Those orbs had started to roll back into his head as Ranma began his slip
into death at her hands, but then something rather unexpected had happened
to him along the way. It was as if he went berserk, but not exactly. His
ebbing strength suddenly surged to new heights, and he had swiftly
backhanded her away from him as if she was nothing, growling like a cat.

Tiger’s head started to pound, her subliminal algorithms straining even
harder. She fell to her knees and moaned softly in sudden pain. It felt
like her skull was going to explode.

They had fought, if it could be called that, and Ranma had defeated her
easily, taking her down like some unruly kitten. She had then felt the
fangs he formed in his mouth from his chi pressing down warningly on the
flesh of her neck each time she attempted to free herself from his grip
upon her frame, his body pressed down on top of hers. It had been
frightening how easily she had been overcome by him, something she had
never before experienced, not even against her master’s fighting skills.
This point was where her memories of that day always seemed to fail her
before.

Suddenly, there was a sort of ‘popping’ feeling in her mind, and her
mnemonic programming abruptly crashed, a sensation of relief flooding her
brain when it occurred. Her subliminal algorithms released their death grip
on her memories as its program elements began shredding and tattering into
pieces, no longer able to withstand her brain’s feverish emotional state.
Tiger gasped as her mind reeled with the unprecedented freedom, and the
sudden rush of suppressed memories overwhelmed her as they flooded her
mind. Her attention turned inward, finally able to recall what had happened
next as these buried images engulfed her brain.

Ranma had begun gently licking her neck and the sides of her face after
their fight was over, treating her very much like how a male cat would
express his dominance and affection towards an unruly female one. The
soothing feel of his tongue as it softly groomed her had awakened an
unexpected instinct from the feline portion of her genetic code. After an
unknown amount of time, she gradually began purring, finding herself
relishing the enjoyable sensations.

Gradually, she had relented in her resistance and accepted his dominion
over her, ceasing her struggles against him, her emotional state at the
time unable to withstand the biological imperatives his actions awoke
within her. Turning her head slowly, she began tentatively grooming him
back, gently licking his throat and cheeks. She had been rewarded to hear
him also begin purring as well, a low, rumbling sound that sounded very
pleasant and masculine to her ears.

Her breathing began calming back to normal as her mind processed these
previously buried memories. On the bed, the sleeping trio continued their
slumbering, unaware of what had just transpired within Tiger. Slowly
clambering back to her feet, not remembering exactly when she had collapsed
to her knees, she staggered from the room in a dazed state, stumbling down
the hallway as her mind continued sorting things out.

Ranma’s actions had aroused powerful passions for him, displacing her
previous desires for her master. While he had not attempted anything beyond
merely grooming her, her ardor, awoken and increasing by the minute due to
his actions, had begun demanding release. Her instincts had driven her to
attempt to mate with him. In the course of her subsequent actions towards
him, they had done so.

Her gorge threatened to rise in her throat at that moment, and she
staggered to her bed and threw herself headlong upon it. Her body
immediately curled into a loose fetal position as she felt tears begin
staining her sheets. Horror filled her.

She and Ranma had copulated with each other, not just once, but several
times in a seething fury of animal lust and primitive passions. When it was
finally over, her need for him sated and his virility spent, they had then
fallen into an exhausted sleep together. She remembered how contented and
deeply at peace she had been, lying there cuddled against him as she
drifted off to slumber, hearing him purring serenely into one of her ears
as he too went to sleep, holding her gently in his arms.

Her mnemonic algorithms, driven offline sometime before their flurry of
mating began, must have quietly reasserted themselves sometime during her
slumbers. She had awoken early, puzzled to find herself snuggling with
Ranma in his bed. Dazed and confused as her mind began reorienting itself,
she had fixed him some food, dressed him and then she had gone to take a
bath. After her ablutions were done, she had then put on her uniform and
returned to Kinnosuke, her mission complete. During the time after her
awakening, she had somehow forgotten her passionate encounter with the
Saotome boy, her personality governors apparently erasing the torrid
memories of them by burying them down in the darkest nadirs of her mind and
swiftly suppressing them whenever they tried to arise again.

Tiger was uncertain what she was feeling at this point. With the sudden
absence of her subliminal algorithms and their imperatives to guide her
thoughts, her mind was unexpectedly cast adrift, exploring an ocean of
emotions while left rudderless. More tears suddenly stained her silk
sheets, and she felt utterly lost and alone in the face of such a vast
unknown.

What was she going to do? Did she still love Kinnosuke Kashuoh?

While she had once known an intense ardor for him only a short time ago,
her emotions were now strangely ambivalent. Delving within herself, she
could no longer feel anything that she had once felt so strongly for him.
Had it only ever been because of her Genom-installed conditioning that she
cared about him? Was her heartfelt passion for him nothing but a lie?

How did she feel about Ranma Saotome now?

That unexpected thought seemed to seize her attention and would not let go.
Had she fallen in love with Saotome-sama? The shift in her mental mode of
address for him went quietly unnoticed for now due to her confused state.

Still lying on her side in a loose fetal position, she began cataloging her
memories of the pigtailed scholar. As she did so, familiar feelings of
ardor she had once associated with the Kashuoh boy suddenly arose
powerfully within her. Surprise briefly replaced those tender feelings of
love. Each memory of Ranma she conjured up made her feel very good inside,
like seeing a beautiful sunrise or a piece of magnificent artwork for the
very first time.

Slowly, her tears ceased as her mind suddenly accepted this astonishing new
paradigm. She _loved_ Saotome-sama! Realizing that changed her mood
immediately, filling her with one of happiness and wonder instead of utter
despair. She rolled over on to her back, gazing up at the ornate ceiling of
her room and pondering what this might signify for her.

Could the physical difficulties she had been having be the result of some
sort of inner emotional conflict? Perhaps her missing one of her menstrual
cycles was simply due to stresses she had been unaware of. Her vomiting
could also be explained the same way, her body dealing with her mind’s
buried turmoil in a physical way. Revisiting her prior notion of seeing Dr.
Tanashi for a checkup, she decided to do it as soon as she could for her
own peace of mind.

However, if it wasn’t stress, another possibility for explaining her
condition could be at work, one she had not considered before recalling her
passionate tryst with Ranma. She had been intimate with only two young men
during her brief existence. While Kinnosuke’s anti-fertility implant was
soon to expire, it was still functional. When it finally failed, his
grandfather’s plan had been for him to breed with her and the other two
lilith prototypes, since, unlike previous models from Genom; they were
designed to be inter-fertile with human males in order to act as
replacements for human women.

Thinking about it, she was uncertain if Ranma even had an implant, as he
had been on an academic tour outside the Empire for the past several years.
In her memories of that passionate encounter with him, she could not recall
ever feeling the tiny lump of such an implant under his skin when they had
been together. She would need to discuss her concerns with Tanashi-sensei
and seek the woman’s advice, should her pregnancy be confirmed.

If she was carrying Saotome-sama’s child, what would she do? What could she
do? Even if she was not expectant, she knew now that remaining with
Kinnosuke was out of the question, not and be true to her awakened
feelings. However, as a lilith, she was legally his property, the only
allowed form of slavery within the Empire. And knowing the Kashuoh boy as
she did, he might hurt her, maybe even have her ‘retired’ if he found out
she was pregnant with another man’s child, especially if that man was
Saotome-sama.

Tiger caressed her flat belly gently, pondering her condition. If there was
a child now growing within her womb, as its mother she knew she needed to
do everything in her power to protect it. While the thought of having a
baby made her feel uncertain and maybe even a little bit frightened, she
was also experiencing an unprecedented kind of joy at the thought of a new
life growing inside her, one brought into being by her and Saotome-sama.

Several schemes were quickly considered and then discarded in a rapid
succession. The only realistic solution to her onerous dilemma would be to
somehow have her ownership transferred to the Saotome boy, and as soon as
possible. But how could she accomplish this?

An impish smile appeared on her lips as an answer came to her. It was a
promising plan, but she needed to work on some of the variables before
implementing it. If her scheme worked, she would be safe, becoming
Saotome-sama’s property instead of having to stay with the moody Kashuoh
boy, risking termination of her life at the hands of Genom’s security
forces or Kinnosuke himself. For a replicant, such an end was colloquially
known as retirement. The Empire even maintained agents of the Security
Directorate who ‘retired’ renegade replicants, known as Blade Runners.

There were other concerns, of course. Would Saotome-sama accept her and
their child together? And what would his parents think? While liliths were
often used by women in the Empire as surrogate mothers to carry their
offspring to term to preserve their own figures, they were never able to
breed on their own with human men, not until now. She, Lynx and Panther
represented a new generation of lilith, female replicants designed to be
genetically compatible with human males, intended to replace human females
with a more pliable and obedient breed of woman provided by Genom.

Would Saotome-sama’s mother be pleased to learn she might soon be a
grandmother? How would she feel about the child’s mother being a lilith?
Would the baby be healthy?

After all, it would be the first of its kind in the world, and there could
be problems. Tiger’s knowledge in this area was limited, but she knew Genom
had crafted her genetics in such a way that she should be able to provide
healthy sons for any man she mated with. If all of her reproductive systems
worked as they were designed, that meant she was carrying Saotome-sama’s
heir.

As she pondered the uncertainties of her future, despite her fears and
trepidations of what might lay ahead, this infusion of joy inside Tiger
refused to fade away. Her love for Saotome-sama was true, she felt very
certain of that. Holding fast to that thought, she reviewed every moment of
her time spent interacting with him, seeing them all in an entirely new
light.

A powerful yearning filled her heart, wanting to be with him again, to tell
him that she was carrying their son and see his reaction. She hoped he
would be pleased to learn he was going to be a father. She then felt a firm
belief blossom in her heart that serving him would be fulfilling for her in
a way that her service to Kinnosuke had never been, because she freely
chose it. Her love for him arose spontaneously from deep within her instead
of being imposed upon her by Genom-made mental conditioning, so these
feelings were real.

Standing silently in one corner, her presence cloaked from all mortal
senses, the witch Bernkastel pondered the sight of the redheaded catgirl’s
smile. Aspects of her scheme still remained on track despite the unexpected
divergences from plan that had occurred since that day of the warehouse
incident. She had high hopes she would win the game yet.

Shimmering, she vanished, leaving Tiger to her musings and plans.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The young noblewoman smiled at Ranma, dressed in his blue Imperial Academy
uniform, when he made the bold move of taking her hand in his as they
strolled along. Kodachi felt a gentle, wistful sigh escape her lips as she
saw the sun setting upon the distant hills, its fading light causing the
still waters of the nearby pond to glow with gold. It was a perfect,
tranquil moment with the two boys she cared about most.

On her other side walked Miki Kaoru, dressed in his Ohtori Academy uniform,
smiling at her as he took her other hand at her unspoken invitation. She
felt such a powerful connection to them both. Although Saotome-kun was her
beloved fiancé, how could she ever be parted from her childhood friend,
Kaoru-kun?

“I thought we had a talk about this sort of thing, Kuno-dono,” suddenly
interrupted a serious-sounding female voice behind her.

“What?” Kodachi turned, the images of Ranma and Miki vanishing away to
nothingness. Standing there behind her was Sukeban-Kodachi, the Black Rose
of St. Hebereke Reformatory High School. Kodachi watched as the other girl
approached her with a measured tread, clad in the uniform of her school,
her hair pulled back into its usual ponytail. As she walked towards
Kodachi, the Black Rose casually flipped out her unbreakable ceramic yo-yo
to snap nearby tree branches, expertly catching it as it returned to her
hand on its line.

“While I still have quite strong feelings for Kaoru-kun, Ranma-sama proved
himself worthy to become my husband at the dance at Ohtori, the way he
crushed that sleazy Sanzenin scumbag in battle and yet danced so skillfully
with me... with us,” said the delinquent girl, her facial expression
sparkling with aroused passions at the memory. “The Black Rose needs a
strong man at her side, but one who also moves so adroitly on the dance
floor is a wondrous find indeed.”

She paused and assumed a rapturous ‘Hearts and Flowers’ look as she stood
there, a somewhat startling metamorphosis for the delinquent girl’s mien,
replacing her usual, much harder-edged facial expressions. “I could sense
it within him as we danced closely together, his desires for me... for us.
The heavens will no doubt resound with our choir-like cries of joy when our
beloved Ranma-sama finally takes us and makes us his.”

The image of the Saotome boy shimmered into being again. This time he was
dressed in one of his Chinese-style shirts and black gi pants, and the
delinquent girl sauntered around him slowly, trailing the tips of her index
and middle fingers very sultrily along his jawline. She then paused for
several moments before his unmoving form, and her expression became far
more openly lascivious, her hands sliding slowly down his chest and
stomach, lingering briefly at times, clearly savoring the feel of him.

“Ranma-sama will make me his woman,” she suddenly purred with absolute
certainty as she turned her face upwards, her rapturous, lust-filled gaze
studying his face adoringly. She then turned a sidelong glance in Kodachi’s
direction, a wanton grin now adorning her lips. “I know you and I are both
looking forward to making the beast with two backs with him, as the Bard
would say in his plays.”

Kodachi gulped and blushed, looking down and fidgeting nervously with her
hands. “Y-yes,” she murmured, unable to deny what was so true.

Still, to be so bold, so brazen in demonstrating her libidinous desires
towards a boy was foreign to her. Absently, she removed from a pocket the
small gold crucifix her mother had given her a long time ago and began
fiddling with it, seeking solace and guidance from contact with the
metallic icon, uncertain of herself. Could she ever be so utterly shameless
with Saotome-kun in real life? She felt so sinful even just thinking about
him the way she was.

What about his own feelings towards her? How would he react to this aspect
of her that she had struggled so hard to keep hidden from him? She knew he
cared about her, the scholarly noblewoman façade she let him see,
displaying only brief flashes of the other selves dwelling within her. But
if he knew how fragmented her psyche was, how wicked some parts of its
makeup were, he might abandon her.

No, that would never happen, she promised herself. He was coming to love
her. He would someday love her as deeply as she already loved him, as so
many of her other selves loved him. Still, niggling worries pricked at her.
Perhaps he would be utterly repulsed by an encounter with the Black Rose,
the lascivious warrior woman that gave her psyche its strength and had
bestowed upon her the powerful combat skills she now possessed. The Black
Rose was a large component of her disjointed psyche, and lately she had
been growing far too restive and unquiet to fully contain any longer.

If she ever manifested that aspect of her psyche to him, showed him the
dark warrior she held fettered within her, what would Saotome-kun think of
her? So far, only Nabiki Tendo had ever seen that side of her, the Black
Rose wholly unleashed, to her detriment.

A sudden smile of pride lit her face, recalling the vicious, exultant
feeling she had experienced when she heard the arrogant Tendo girl gasp
loudly with pain, even as she felt her fist impacting into Nabiki’s
ribcage, with almost all of her might behind the blow. She had taken swift
advantage of the sudden opening created, laying into her detested foe with
a flurry of powerful strikes, eventually knocking the arrogant older girl
down to the ground, bruised and bleeding from several minor wounds. She
would have finished the stunned Tendo girl off then and there, proving to
the obnoxious harridan that she was not Kodachi Kuno’s better.
Unfortunately, the coach had returned from his errand a minute too soon and
interfered, preventing her from unleashing the final strike that would have
sent Nabiki into unconsciousness and defeat.

The rigorous training sessions with her mother and the coaches at school
had gradually been unlocking the full combat abilities the Black Rose was
capable of, toughening her body and re-forging her physique into a more
lethal, honed weapon that was more suitable for housing such aptitudes. A
champion fighter on her original world, there the delinquent girl dealt
regularly with many powerful foes seeking to unseat her from her throne at
the top of the pack of ruffian girls she ruled over, but she would not be
moved. All who tried, male or female, were brutally and ruthlessly crushed
without achieving their ambitions, their broken forms cast down to lie in
ruin before her might.

She was a much greater warrior than the others here had seen so far, but
the Black Rose’s abilities had been hobbled by this body’s physical
limitations, although it was somewhat stronger than Scholar-Kodachi’s had
been. Even so hindered, the proud White Lily had already fallen before her
skills, and Akane and Nabiki had only temporarily escaped their coming
fate. The next time she faced off against the two Tendo cretins in a real
fight, she was certain she would be the one to emerge as the clear victor,
just as she had every time she fought against the cruel Saginomiya girl.

Then the cross-dressing Kuonji and Tenjou freaks would fall to her might
after that, clearing away more of the riffraff that unworthily sought to
claim _her_ Saotome-kun. If she had possessed the original Black Rose’s
body in this world, the contests would already be over. Her rivals would
have already slunk away to seek out other, lesser men, leaving her free to
claim Saotome-sama for herself.

Unfortunately, that was not the case, but it would not be a problem for
very much longer. Although she had spent years crafting her physique to
possess a supreme caliber of agility and fitness, fighting required the
usage of muscles and limbs in a multitude of ways that were foreign to how
she had utilized them to perform gymnastics routines. Her build had also
lacked far too much of the physical toughness needed to shrug off damage
when hit. While she still had a ways to go before she truly felt satisfied
with her fighting abilities, her weaknesses were fading away, her fetters
falling from her, and Nabiki Tendo had been the first to glimpse just how
dangerous a foe the Black Rose could truly be. It had undoubtedly been a
very great surprise to the egotistical girl.

Kodachi suspected her fiancé had been dealing with a similar problem, the
combat skills obtained from his martial artist analog restrained by his own
body’s physical limits. But something peculiar had obviously happened to
him recently, a marvelous transformation. It was like the restraints
fettering his combat abilities had been suddenly and completely removed,
allowing the magnificent warrior locked away within him to be fully
unveiled to the world.

He had flourished in his fighting capabilities, and that improvement made
him seem even more desirable to her than he had already been. That
realization had shocked her a bit, that she would have such a powerful,
animalistic response to him. It was as if she subconsciously recognized him
as a worthy male, inflaming her with acute urges to become his mate.

Reminded of her other aspect’s less inhibited nature by that salacious
thought, she recalled with a deeper blush the time when her fiancé had
entered into her bedchambers several weeks ago, surprising her during the
night while she was in bed. In the dark, that encounter with him had
quickly led to a fierce mêlée between them. They had fought with great
ferocity, neither combatant knowing who their foe was even as they
struggled together savagely in the dimness.

The conclusion of that intense battle had found them wrestling with each
other on the floor, their forms entwined together intimately as their bout
ended, her body pinned beneath his. She could still recall being pinned
down by him. Even after all these weeks, thoughts of that time spent
tussling with him on the floor of her bedroom left her feeling rather
breathlessly excited and more than a bit flushed.

She yearned to admit to the young scholar how she truly felt about that
experience. The aching, licentious cravings he had aroused within her by
their struggle together had been almost intoxicating. Pondering it later,
she was quite astonished to realize just how stimulated that encounter had
left her.

Embarrassingly, she had been filled with a longing to have a torrid sexual
romp with him by the end of it, and she was quite disconcerted about that
revelation. They had briefly kissed, their lips barely touching, and she
had been mere moments away from finally sating her carnal desires for the
Saotome boy. But they had been interrupted by her brother’s most untimely
arrival before she could consummate her relationship with her fiancé.

If such a thing happened between them again, she wondered if she would even
try resisting her lustful urges for even a moment. Would she feel the same
compulsion, experience again these newly-discovered longings aroused within
her by battle with him to yield herself to her fiancé’s manly needs? That
troubled her. She was a refined lady of noble birth, raised to embody
society’s rigid expectations of what a teenaged girl born to the
aristocracy should be like. It just wasn’t proper for her to have desires
for such sleazy things, to want to be wrestled down and then ravished, even
if it was being done by the young man she desired so much and loved so
deeply.

Before, she had always fantasized about any such acts of passion she would
be involved in as taking place on a soft, canopied bed with silk sheets.
When she finally surrendered her precious virginity to her future husband
(as a chaste, proper girl would), the bed would be strewn about with pink
or red rose petals. Candles that gave off sweet scents as they flickered
merrily would be providing the bedchamber with a romantic ambiance. Those
acts of passion between her and her husband would be tender undertakings of
true love. He would be kind and gentle with her and respectful of her as a
woman.

Whatever would Saotome-kun think of her if he found out she possessed such
licentious hungers and yearnings for him? She had never suspected that
fighting and wrestling with him would be so arousing for her. Was she
really no better, no different than the brutish, loutish Akane Tendo and
her bestial, coarse desires for the boy they both wanted?

The thought horrified Kodachi.

Despite the boorish, cruel taunts she had endured from that particular
harridan, slanderous accusations that all girls of the Empire’s peerage
gleefully indulged in lustful, perverted behaviors, Kodachi knew she was
not that sort of a girl. She was not some inbred, corrupted, wicked
blueblood who hungered for aberrant pleasures to satisfy jaded senses, such
as enjoying incestuous trysts with her cousins or brother as the youngest
Tendo had hatefully jeered at her weeks ago. While it was true that there
were women of high station who did such immoral acts (Asuka Saginomiya, the
self-proclaimed White Lily, being one particularly vile slattern who
immediately came to Kodachi’s mind as a possibility due to her personal
knowledge of that other girl’s true, wicked nature), the rest were proper
young ladies like herself, undeserving of such horrid calumny.

Indeed, if the Tendo girl wanted to behold an example of true villainy,
Kodachi was quite certain that few girls could ever approach the sheer
iniquity that Asuka Saginomiya merrily indulged in on a regular basis. She
was an evil, vindictive shrew. The malignant core of her blackened soul
teemed with spite and malice towards others, but her true, baleful nature
was kept carefully concealed from teachers and other adults behind her
painstakingly-constructed façade of good looks and charming mannerisms. But
the ugly truth lurking behind that oh-so-pleasant guise her nemesis wore
was that Asuka was someone who enjoyed being a cruel and sadistic tormenter
to girls who caught her attention and then decided she didn’t like due to
evil whims known only to her.

The Kuno girl was certain that was so, having endured far too many of
Asuka’s persecutions for it to be otherwise. Those acts of bullying and
meanness the other girl usually did herself, but this year she had been
acting sometimes as if it was some kind of chore she had to perform rather
than something she enjoyed. During those bouts of ennui, Asuka would
delegate her cruelties to be carried out by her equally vile lieutenants.

One of the girls who acted in Asuka’s stead, the callow-seeming Azusa
Shiratori, was perhaps the White Lily’s most faithful minion. She was much
like Asuka in that she too was a sinister villainess hiding behind a
beautiful, beguiling appearance. In Azusa’s case, she seemed nothing but an
ingénue, a gorgeous girl with a visage of childlike innocence. Many foolish
young men had been duped by this facade, swelling the ranks of her fan
club, but her female victims, never boys, knew Azusa’s true nature.

Along with the Shiratori girl, Ayako Mitsui was Asuka’s other enforcer, and
the third part of the elite clique other girls at Blackhall called ‘Triple
A’ or ‘The Triple Threat’ (whenever any of them weren’t within earshot).
The most tomboyish girl of the trio, Ayako had her share of devoted fans
among boys at Whitehall who liked that type. Because of her past run-ins
with her, it had been something of a shock for Kodachi to see Yohko Mano at
the Imperial Academy, never suspecting the Mitsui girl had a twin. She had
avoided Yohko as much as she could because of this.

After all the years she had endured being bullied by the Saginomiya girl, a
dysfunctional relationship going back to their childhood, her prayers for
justice were finally answered when she had received the Black Rose’s
treasure trove of martial arts skills. Bestowed upon her when
Scholar-Kodachi escaped her dying version of the Empire, that serendipitous
gift had forged a new Kodachi Kuno, transforming her former, mousy self
into a beautiful heroine possessing the ability to strike down that coterie
of malicious, wicked girls that had done her so much injustice. It had felt
so unbelievably cathartic to finally be able to beat them all up,
especially her main nemesis, the malicious White Lily, to return to her
tormentors a full measure of the evil they had done to her.

Far from being the White Lily’s only victim though, Kodachi knew she must
be the favorite, at least as far as she could tell. She knew many other
girls who had been bullied, some even beaten up by members of the dreaded
trio, a few from less prominent families even injured quite seriously.
However, most of those beatings had occurred when Asuka began her rise to
power a couple of years ago, a process starting shortly after the death of
her mother. The White Lily had been ruthless in crushing all opposition
that arose from the leaders of the various martial arts clubs on campus.
Ever since then, she ruled Blackhall with an iron fist, albeit one she kept
concealed in a frilly, fashionable silk glove, brutally suppressing any
dissension against her. Girls came to dread earning her terrifying wrath or
even merely catching the White Lily’s attention.

Kodachi had heard it whispered by some of her peers that the haughty Asuka
also loved playing hurtful, malicious games with the hearts of teenaged
boys who foolishly became enamored with her beauty, pitting them against
each other for her amusement. Kodachi’s brother had once been among them
before fortunately regaining his senses. The White Lily was known to treat
these male dupes as if they were merely disposable toys for her callous
entertainment, and there were other scandalous rumors that more than one
such beguiled youth had enjoyed her charms and shared intimacies with her,
becoming further ensnared by her fiendish wiles. It would not surprise
Kodachi if it were ever to be revealed that her impious arch-nemesis had
even enjoyed debauched activities with her relatives.

Based on what she had heard about the Saginomiyas, Asuka’s depravity and
moral turpitude was a trait that was shared by others in her infamously
decadent and corrupt family. It was whispered that the girl’s poor mother
had been the victim of foul play, allowing the preening woman who was the
current Lady Saginomiya to charm her way into the family by seducing the
father. Ever since then, that family had become almost legendary for their
debaucheries, throwing decadently lavish parties and hosting entertainments
to titillate the palates of even some of the most jaded nobles. As feeding
dissolute urges was a popular pastime among the nobility, the parties were
well-attended.

Thinking about dissipation reminded her of Touga Kiryuu, an exceedingly
handsome young man Kodachi had met recently while at the dance at Ohtori,
escorting Nabiki Tendo of all people. He was rumored to be a first-rate
womanizer, cutting a swath through the hearts of ladies of the peerage,
putting him on a par with Mikado Sanzenin. While he might indeed be the
narcissistic young reprobate she had heard a few sleazy tales about,
Kodachi could admit the Kiryuu boy was gifted with a gorgeous face and a
pleasing physique, as well as possessing quite disarmingly charming
manners. After meeting him, she understood a bit better how so many girls
could have fallen in love with him and given up their virtue to him. Not
that she was interested in doing such a thing, of course.

Although still a teenager, he was reputed to be a formidable warrior, a
master with a sword or bokken. Her brother had once commented that the
Kiryuu boy was a challenging foe for him to face in kendo matches, even a
rival in such endeavors. Such an acknowledgement was high praise when
coming from Tatewaki.

Kodachi had been wondering at the nature of the relationship Nabiki had
with Touga ever since seeing them together at the dance at Ohtori. It was
clear they could not be childhood friends, not like how she was with her
own date to the dance, Miki Kaoru (which rendered their date absolutely
innocent, of course). No, those two moved in far different social circles,
so there had to be something more unseemly to their association, especially
since Nabiki was reputed to be money-grubbing and Touga was both extremely
rich and a notorious womanizer. That said, a strange thing Kodachi had
noticed that night was the sort of looks Touga kept giving the Tendo girl,
imparting to her the unmistakable impression that his interest in Nabiki
went beyond a mere physical desire, which was quite uncharacteristic of
what she knew of him.

As he was a friend of Kaoru-kun, Kodachi thought it likely the other boy’s
sordid reputation was overblown, since she doubted her childhood friend
would spend any time with someone who was truly that much of a lecherous
womanizer. After all, Kaoru-kun was not at all like that, looking at girls
lustfully, regarding them as nothing but potential notches to carve into
his bedpost or treating them as conquests he could later brag about to his
friends. Such sinfulness was not part of his noble character. As his
childhood friend, she could tell.

After all, Kaoru-kun would never do immoral things to her, such as grabbing
her against her will, throwing her down upon his bed before he began
ripping off her clothing even as she demurely attempted to fend him off,
only to find herself helpless before the power of his seething lust for her
nubile, young body. Then, once she was stripped naked, his hands would
seize her legs, forcing them apart as he loomed over her, his lascivious
intentions for her clear from the lustful look in his eyes, and then...

Kodachi coughed primly, suddenly realizing she was becoming distracted by
another one of her fantasies, a little embarrassed that she had starred
Kaoru-kun in this one instead of Saotome-kun as she usually did. She should
not imagine doing such sleazy things with Kaoru-kun. He was her childhood
friend, nothing more, no matter how handsome and attractive she found him
to be. It was wrong of her to think of him as she had been doing, lusting
after him like that. So resolved, she returned her thoughts to the far less
pleasant matter of the White Lily, a girl who was probably the foulest,
most horrid shrew she ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Calling Kodachi’s feelings towards Asuka loathing could only begin to
describe how she felt, and she suspected that her bitterness towards the
White Lily was mutual, especially after the many beatings she had dealt to
her foe before transferring to the Imperial Academy. While it was probably
only a matter of time until the Saginomiya girl struck back in an attempt
at revenge, Kodachi was not concerned. She was confident that Asuka had
even less hope now of winning against her. After the improvements she had
already made to her combat abilities, Kodachi felt more than equal to the
task of dealing with appropriate harshness towards the White Lily whenever
she finally made her move.

Her musings on dealing with the spiteful Asuka reminded the dreaming
Kodachi that the Imperial Academy’s Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics team’s
coach had recently approached her, inviting her to join their ranks and
begin preparations for the autumn regional events beginning right after
summer break ended. She was seriously considering it, especially since her
mother had admitted during one of their recent sparring sessions that she
was a past champion of the sport in her youth, winning numerous trophies
that she had previously kept hidden away in a locked closet. The closet in
question was one that Kodachi had never been allowed to see into before she
and her mother attained their new understanding of each other as
samurai-ko. Becoming part of the team would surely please the Kuno family
matriarch, and it would give her a social outlet that let her display both
her athletic talents and school spirit in a positive fashion.

It would also give her an opportunity to unseat the haughty Asuka from her
throne as the reigning queen of that sport. While it had been very
cathartic to pummel the Saginomiya girl unconscious in each of their many
fierce duels at Blackhall, utterly crushing her arch-nemesis at her chosen
specialty and thwarting her aspirations to win yet another national
championship would be something far more satisfying to do. Kodachi looked
forward to ripping the coveted title of champion away from the other girl’s
battered, bruised and bleeding remains. That day promised to be both
entertaining and therapeutic, finally completing her transformation from
the shy, mousy girl she had once been.

Hopefully, joining the team would also be her means to finally make at
least one true friend. Other than Ami Mizuno, who had a brilliant intellect
but was painfully shy, and Nanami Jinnai, a very keen-witted but
distressingly money-hungry girl (who had discretely sold Kodachi some
rather pleasingly risqué snapshots of Ranma at very reasonable prices), no
others in her class ever spoke to her about things outside of school
subjects. It had been a rather disheartening situation for her to deal with
ever since her arrival at the Imperial Academy.

Oh, some of the boys in her class had tried chatting with her when she
first transferred, but she had quickly been able to discern they were only
interested in her as some kind of conquest or trophy. Their gazes had
betrayed their lecherous intentions for her when they inevitably dropped to
study her figure. One particularly uncouth science cadet even went so far
as to rudely ask her for her measurements!

No other boy had dared try to repeat that particular entreaty after she
brutally beat senseless the perverted requestor. The unspoken warning was
clearly received by the others who saw the trampled state of his battered
carcass when she was finally done with thrashing the loathsome pervert with
her bare hands. Ever since then, none of the boys in her class would even
meet her gaze, cringing guiltily if her eyes ever fell upon them.

Other than Mikado Sanzenin (a slimy, sleazy molester of innocent young
girls who she utterly abhorred for his unrelenting lechery and wanted
nothing whatsoever to do with), the boys at Whitehall had been far too
intimidated by her brother’s prowess as a warrior to ever dare try speaking
to her with such lewd intent. Even so, she had caught their lecherous gazes
directed towards her physique whenever she was dressed in her gymnastics
leotard during the few co-ed events held between Blackhall and Whitehall,
distressing her by never seeming to rise above her neck. Clearly her male
peers at both schools were unable to think of her as a person, differing
from how Saotome-kun and Kaoru-kun treated her.

Both of those boys were far more gallant in their manners towards her,
especially Kaoru-kun, but he had been raised as a nobleman. Such upsetting
experiences in her life had left her with a poor impression of males her
age in general and had contributed to her shyness with boys. But they had
also served to intensify her tender feelings towards the two young men who
had won her favor through their innate decency and how respectfully they
acted towards her whenever they were around her. Both of them were
honorable young men she knew she could trust.

Because she cared so deeply about both boys, her secret wish was that
Kaoru-kun and Saotome-kun could become friends someday. However, she wasn’t
sure if such a thing was possible, judging by the fierce glares she had
occasionally caught them giving each other whenever they thought she wasn’t
observing them, displaying jealousy towards each other. Fortunately, they
were both thoughtful young men, neither of them prone to getting into
pointless fights just to prove their manhood like so many other swaggering
males did, so perhaps her friendship with both of them would someday lead
them into becoming comrades with each other as well.
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