[FFML] Quantum Destinies 21

[Jurai Knight]

*** Earth +3.182, +1.226



Ranko eyed her opponent, half hidden in the darkness of the forest they
were in. Sweat dripped down her body, droplets silently falling from her
face to the soft mulch, and her breathing was deep and even as she waited.
The night was still around them, even the cicadas quiet. The only noises
reaching her were those of her opponent breathing, in soft gasps like her
own breath now came, a sign of the intense efforts they had made against
each other so far. She had still not seen his face clearly. Even when they
engaged each other up close, his features remained cloaked in shadow, but
she knew she had to overcome him.



The boy sprang at her, one of his hands lashing out at her in a quick
punching attack. She blocked the strike and drove her knee upwards into his
belly before snaking around behind him, trying for a solid hold. They
struggled intensely, warm bodies meshed together into a tight embrace as
they battled to get leverage against each other, their physical strength
almost evenly matched. Ranko felt her opponent’s body straining against her
grip, while she maneuvered her free hand to strengthen her hold upon him.
He was strong, a little stronger than she was, and that was oddly exciting
to her.



He was a few centimeters taller than she was, she noticed, even as she
struggled as hard as she could to improve her hold and finally win the
battle raging between them. Their hot sweat mingled together as she felt
his body gathering itself for an escape. A scent tickled her nose while she
was so close to him, faintly redolent of musk. The elbow of his free arm
suddenly slammed into her ribcage, but she did not ease up on her grip. As
she quested for a better hold on him, he tried to shake her off, and as
they grappled his hand came in contact with her breast. They both froze.



The next thing that she knew, they were both down on the ground, his body
pinned loosely beneath hers, his lips locked against her own in a very
passionate, openmouthed kiss. They still struggled, wrestling with each
other, but each now desired something other than defeat for the other. His
tongue probed into her mouth as he rolled on top of her, setting off a
firestorm of desire within her as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.
She still couldn’t see his face clearly, only a hint of a profile, a flash
of dark blue eyes filled with passion to equal her own. At some moments he
wore an Academy uniform, and at other times a Chinese-style shirt and gi
pants. His hair was black and seemed to be braided into a short queue, much
like how she oftentimes wore her own.



The deep kiss finally ended, and his lips moved down to her jaw and then to
her throat, as she felt herself gasp and sigh, softly and lustily. Warm
breath touched one of her ears as he nuzzled her there and down her neck.
She had never felt so alive before.



His lips nibbled at her earlobe. One of his hands was held fast by one of
hers, their fingers interlaced together, his palm warm against hers. Her
stroking thumb and littlest finger felt the calluses on the edges of his
hand, a clear sign of a trained martial artist. Her free arm slowly
caressed down his side, enjoying the solid musculature she discovered
there. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair as his lips kissed her
throat. Her legs were loosely wrapped around his hips.



Ranko rolled her head to one side, enjoying the pleasant feel of the boy’s
lips on her neck, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from her. When she glanced
up for a moment, she noticed another figure standing nearby, and their eyes
met.



“I suppose I should be flattered you keep having this dream, Ranko,” said
Ranma Saotome dryly.





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. In the Imperial Arena, Shampoo began integrating the memories
that have been granted her, of a life spent as a loyal soldier serving the
Solnoid Matriarchy in another timeline. After a misunderstanding, Ranma and
Kodachi shared a private moment together and came near to exchanging a kiss
before they were rudely interrupted. Ranma used the resonator and visited
the other Earth where his father is currently trapped and confronted him
about Project Phoenix. Kinnosuke Kashuoh learned an unpleasant truth about
himself, but it only steeled his resolve to crush Ranma and claim Nabiki as
his own. Herb and his cronies escaped from their prison in China. Kinnosuke
and his trio of faithful catgirls battled Ranma and Nabiki, and Nabiki was
forced to unleash the Nekoken in a desperate bid for victory during the
brutal struggle against the four. Finally, the two fathers enjoyed drinking
in the company of Akemi Roppongi and looked forward to uniting the two
Schools.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Chapter 21 - Yin And Yang, Part I



     Romance is like a game of chess: one false move and

     you’re mated.



                              - Anonymous



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx





Ranko snapped awake, the loose shirt she was wearing falling off one
shoulder a bit as she sat up quickly in bed, panting. The sounds of the
city outside drifted in through the partly open window of her hotel room.
It was a nicer one for a change, the owner of the hotel grateful to her for
helping his daughter Yuka out with some bullies, an analog for the girl she
remembered from home as one of Nabiki’s cohorts. As she sat there, she
grimaced, recalling the fading bits of her recent dream as she tried to
calm herself. A sigh escaped her lips.



“Damn you, Ranma,” she muttered. Her life already had more than enough
difficulties going on without this.



It was all the fault of a boy named Ranma Saotome, a male version of her,
who had apparently been working on a means of contacting other worlds by
temporarily possessing the bodies of his analogs, and she had been one of
them. All she remembered of the experience was blacking out for a time,
and, when she came to, finding her clothes in disarray, and she had
apparently been about to undo her blouse.



“Pervert,” she muttered darkly, blushing in embarrassment. Luckily, there
had not been another incident, and she had dismissed the blackout as a sign
of overwork. Then the accident in her lab had occurred, and she had bigger
problems to deal with. Nothing had seemed different about her until quite
recently, when something suddenly changed within her, during a fight of all
things.



Ranko closed her eyes, recalling that incident. Her small cache of funds
had run out before a transit to a world she was stuck on for over two full
days, an Earth ruled by militant feminists called the Solnoid Matriarchy.
Starved and desperate, she finally resorted to petty thievery to get
something to eat, sneaking into one of the pleasure houses near a starport
and swiping a few morsels of food from a table while a party of some sort
was going on. Her next transition was soon coming up, and she wanted to at
least fill her belly first.



Unfortunately, one of the guests, a uniformed Chinese girl with short,
lavender hair had spotted her, apparently taken great exception to her
theft and given chase. Ranko recognized her from some of the worlds she had
visited so far in her travels. They ended up fighting each other in a
nearby alleyway, in what very quickly turned into a pretty vicious struggle
between them, the other girl managing to press her a bit as they both
fought to gain the upper hand. Perhaps it was the stress of the experience
that triggered what happened next.



It was like something suddenly clicked into place inside her. She found
herself fighting much better than before, even without using that strange
adrenaline surge that sometimes came over her during difficult fights of
late, like when she had battled some tricky little old pervert who had
groped her on another world, who she later learned was called Happosai.



After throwing a quick feint, her spin kick cracked across the other girl’s
jaw, putting her out of commission. It had been just in time. While the
Chinese girl was still slumping to the ground, after having bounced heavily
off a nearby alley wall, Ranko had activated her device and quickly left
that world and that version of Shampoo far behind her.



However, in the days that followed, she discovered new memories within
herself, of two very different lives, both of male versions of herself. One
was from a world pretty much identical to her own, of a science cadet at
Tokyo’s Imperial Academy and the one she blamed for messing with her brain.
The other was of a Jusenkyo-cursed martial artist, who spent half his time
as a girl that looked a lot like her, only maybe a bit shorter.



Blinking her eyes open, Ranko grumbled to think what Kaneda-baka would say
about her predicament. She knew she wasn’t very feminine at the best of
times, but now she possessed memories of being male. While the increase in
her martial arts skill was really nice, things didn’t end there.



She was now noticing other girls. Not noticing them as in admiring their
clothing choices or comparing herself to them, like how she had viewed them
before. No, now she was _noticing_ them, like a boy did a girl, like she
used to just notice boys. The other day was when she finally realized it,
when she caught herself checking out a cute girl passing by her on the
street.



Ranko cursed Ranma Saotome for doing this to her. How could he have been so
careless, for not using some kind of buffer in his device at least? She
curled her hands into tight fists. If she ever met the guy face to face,
she was going to give him a severe beating for what he had done to her, at
the very least.



Hoping to distract herself from her anger, Ranko picked up the remote for
the television. It came on with a flurry of colored snow that quickly
resolved into the late-night news.



“<...and Chancellor McCartney is still negotiating with the House of Lords
concerning the wording of the latest bill,>” said the pretty, dark-haired
newscaster in English. “<He continues to express his support for the
besieged German peoples and has threatened military action if France
continues with this aggressive course of action. In other news...>”



Disinterested, she flipped to the next channel.



“...are seeing pictures showing the results of the latest attacks in
Kyoto,” said a handsome man in Japanese. “Fear of what the Australian
regime will do next has everyone on edge. The Prime Minister has been seen
in the recent polls as a failure for...”



“Oh, great,” she complained to no one in particular. “Just what I want to
see, more news.” Switching the station again, she settled on the next
channel in rotation.



“...where you’ll always find a friendly face prepared to fix you up a
piping-hot plate of our finest cuisine,” said a smiling Ukyo Kuonji,
dressed in the traditional garb of an okonomiyaki chef and looking very
attractively feminine. “We’re unveiling our tenth restaurant in the Tokyo
area this weekend, so come on down for the grand opening. We promise our
food will make you smile. So be sure to visit us at...”



“Ucchan’s looking really cute,” Ranko mumbled and then she hastily turned
the station again.



“...but I love you, Utena,” said the handsome young actor on screen, his
facial expression one of obvious passion as he held the pink-haired girl he
was speaking to. “I simply can’t deny my feelings for you any longer.”



Ranko snorted. Soap operas. Only housewives watched this stuff.



As the music swelled dramatically, the screen suddenly changed to a station
identification and a deep male voice announced, “You are now watching
‘Roses and Swords’ here on Channel Six. We will be back after a word from
our sponsors.”



“Pass,” she said, flipping channels once again.



“...going to do, Yumi?” said a concerned male voice in Japanese. On the
screen an animated drawing of a young man in a boy’s school uniform was
speaking with an animated drawing of a girl dressed similarly. “Now that
they know you’re really a girl, why are you still going to fight that
gang’s leader? I know you’re strong, but...”



“Girls can fight just as well as guys, jerk,” she muttered, flipping the
television back off.



Ranko flopped back on the bed, arms spread wide on the thick quilt atop it.
It was still many hours until dawn and her next transit time, and she
needed to be as ready as possible. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep
again.



Maybe the next world would finally be home.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth 0.000, 0.000



Tonight had been an incredible experience for Shampoo, and she knew she
would have trouble sleeping. Having Ensign Shan’s memories within her had
given her a totally new perspective on her own life, and how good a life it
was. She had won her match, of course, maintaining her record as an
undefeated contender. It had been a little scary at first when her much
larger male opponent had first stepped into the Arena to face her, a
feeling she was not used to having, but it had transformed into
exhilaration after they began mixing it up.



She had been struck once in the face early on, bloodying her nose, but that
had snapped her out of the fear and replaced it with anger. She had fought
the rest of the match with intense passion, which the crowd always loved
witnessing, losing herself in the sheer joy of facing a strong opponent.
She saw with renewed eyes how much fun it was to fight, to give it her all
in fierce struggle against another.



Then, when it was over, the crowd had loudly roared their approval of her
victory as she walked off the floor, waving casually at them and putting a
sensuous bounce into her stride. She was looking forward to facing another
strong opponent next time.



Grinning broadly at Running Deer, Shampoo poured herself another glass of
apple juice from a plastic carafe. She recalled that she still wanted to
re-read the latest letters from her mother, great-grandmother and her
little sisters, LinLin and RanRan, the last two probably her two biggest
fans. It would be nice to hear what was going on at home, although the
letters from her mother and great-grandmother were usually filled with
comments on where she needed to improve in her fighting skills, with the
occasional compliment thrown in on how well she was doing at proving to the
world the superiority of Amazon fighting techniques. She knew they were
both proud of her, and that felt good.



That reminded her that she needed to send some more money back to her
great-grandmother. Her mother had mentioned in her latest letter that the
village needed a few more things from the outside world, which always
required money, and Shampoo was happy she could help out. Sales of her new
posters and video were doing very well, and her fan club’s ranks were
constantly swelling, which only meant even more money coming in. All in
all, it was somewhat overwhelming at times the way her popularity kept
growing throughout the Empire, but it was very nice too. She was getting an
ever-increasing pile of fan mail every week, but her inability to read
Japanese very well had limited her enjoyment of it.



Running Deer had won her own match tonight as well, the debut of one of the
new hopefuls out of Shanghai’s arena, a Taiwanese girl about their age by
the name of Shenhua whose fighting outfit consisted of a white jacket over
a short-skirted, red cheongsam-style dress that showed off her long legs
and bustline. She had fought very skillfully. Shampoo was a bit concerned
that the girl was seen talking quietly with Mina Li afterwards, with the
occasional glance towards Running Deer. There was something dangerous in
the Taiwanese girl’s gaze, the same sort of look that the Korean girl often
had towards Shampoo.



After their matches and Running Deer getting some ice bags for a couple of
deep bruises on her ribcage, they celebrated by eating dinner in one of the
local restaurants they favored. Then they went back to Shampoo’s small
apartment to watch some television together and enjoy a private toast to
their victories. It was now a regular ritual between them, one that began
when they had first become friends, when Shampoo had arrived in Tokyo for
her own debut match in the Imperial Arena a few months ago.



That was when she had first met the Korean girl, Mina Li, Shampoo mused.
Mina had been in Japan for only a month then, but her fame and popularity
were already growing, since she gave a good, if rather brutal, show on the
floor. She was the one selected to face Shampoo when the Amazon made her
own debut in Tokyo’s Imperial Battledome, and it had been advertised as a
match of titans. Both of them were hot commodities with undefeated records
at the time, so the pairing was played up by the media a lot.



While it had been a somewhat challenging match, Shampoo had not doubted the
outcome after the first thirty seconds of exchanging blows with Mina, and
she had left the overconfident Korean girl face down on the floor of the
Arena in well under two minutes. The crowd had been utterly stunned at the
speed of her victory, and Mina took that humiliating loss bitterly, having
been unexpectedly torn down from her previously unchallenged rise to the
top of the rankings of female fighters in their age bracket.



Running Deer had been the first to come up to Shampoo as she exited the
main combat floor and welcome her to the ranks of those who fought in the
Imperial Arena, even taking her out to one of the local restaurants to
celebrate with some of the other contenders. Ever since then, the tall
Apache girl and the Chinese Amazon had become the best of friends. Running
Deer reminded her of an Amazon in many ways, with an enjoyment towards life
and a passion for giving her best in a match that was invigorating to be
around.



Mina had lost her next two matches before she regained her pacing, by
savagely beating her opponent to death and taking her time at it. It was a
renewed Mina Li who had then stalked off the Arena floor that night,
splattered with the blood of the other girl, the roar of the crowd filling
the Battledome. She had never forgiven Shampoo for winning against her so
easily, not that the Amazon particularly cared after seeing such a grim
spectacle as that other girl’s fate, or the look Mina had directed her way
as she passed by her without a word. The message was clear.



“So what’s with your mood tonight, Shampoo?” Running Deer took another
drink, finishing off her bottle. “You really got a charge out of your match
it seems.”



“Shampoo just happy,” she announced, leaning back on the couch and taking a
sip from her glass as she thought about more pleasant things than a certain
Korean girl. “Shampoo have good life and good friends.” She could have been
drinking something alcoholic like Running Deer was, but she preferred to
keep her wits about her. The Amazon watched with an amused look on her face
as her friend popped open a fresh bottle, her second for the night, and
quickly took a deep drink from it.



“Yeah! That’s the stuff!” Running Deer flopped back on to the couch, her
bosom bouncing nicely within the tight black T-shirt emblazoned with the
Tokyo Battledome logo she wore over cutoff bluejeans, and she kicked her
bare feet up on to the table. “I gotta say one thing for the Impies. They
can sure make a damn good beer. You should taste some of the local swill
they’ve got in bars in Angel City back home. It’s piss in a bottle compared
to this.”



Shampoo grinned, relaxing on her side of the couch in a set of light purple
silk pajamas. Her own feet were up on the table too as she sighed and
stretched, feeling her muscles loosen. The movie they had watched tonight
was good, a sappy martial arts-filled love story that had left both of them
crying by the end of it. She listened to Running Deer start chattering
about the latest gossip on their peers, nodding absently.



One new thing lately was that the Apache girl had been keeping tabs on the
new boy, Ryu Kumon, and she had even been running interference for him now
and then. He had only been here a few days, but he was having trouble
fitting in. That was understandable. The Arena was a hard world to live in.
Shampoo counted herself fortunate in having made several friends so far,
even with those she had beaten in matches. Of those, Running Deer was her
best friend, a better friend than any girl had ever been to her while
growing up in her home village.



Unfortunately, Ryu was not proving himself lucky that way, not that Shampoo
felt responsible for his situation. He had faced her in battle and lost,
and that was not her fault. He had been keeping to himself a lot as his
injuries healed, so he had no allies right now except for Running Deer. And
it was pretty obvious from the start to Shampoo that the Apache girl liked
him a lot, but she kept getting tongue-tied and calf-eyed whenever she was
around him. So, instead of talking to him properly, she would just follow
him around like a puppy, protecting him as best she could while he healed.



Because he was Japanese, the less savory fighters in the Arena’s ranks had
singled Ryu out for their abuse, especially their unspoken leader, Tarou,
Mina’s current steady boyfriend. As the undefeated champion among the male
fighters in their age bracket, the Chinese boy had shown an immense ego,
and he enjoyed bullying other people whenever he could. It made him a
perfect match for Mina, and the Amazon found it difficult to say which of
them she despised more lately. While he was quite handsome, Shampoo found
his personality utterly repulsive, and she hoped someone showed up to put
Tarou in his place soon, before she had to do it herself.



While Running Deer continued to ramble on, Shampoo sipped her juice and
nodded at the right moments to show she was listening. But her mind had
already begun to drift to her mission again. She knew she was going to have
to begin her search for any clues to the source of that resonator signal
soon. There was no telling where the Muskys might have gone on this world,
or what they were up to, so she had to find it first. She could not let
them beat her to it.



When the Huntress reported in at headquarters, the Matriarchy would surely
station a ship on patrol there, in the timeline tangent where they had
first detected the incoming signal. It had been pure blind luck that they
had found it, and the Musk vessel, when they had been so far from the
frontlines. The Huntress had been performing a random jump exercise to give
the crew experience in dealing with such things, not actively hunting for
Musk activity.



To discover another timeline variant that had apparently managed to develop
resonator technology on its own was an added bonus to the situation. To
Shampoo’s knowledge, other than the Matriarchy itself, only the Musk had
ever shown knowledge of such technology until now. To have discovered
another resonator-capable culture was an historic event, even if they were
a patriarchal-based society instead of a properly matriarchal order. But
despite such a flaw, they seemed less objectionable than the misogynistic
Musk Dynasty and could likely be indoctrinated eventually into a healthier
social dynamic, one where women made the decisions instead of
hormonally-driven males.



There had to be a vessel there, she decided, otherwise her mission was
already a failure. For without anyone there to listen for her signal from
this world, the odds were slim that she would ever be able to even find the
Matriarchy again in her lifetime, not with countless millions upon millions
of inhabited timelines to choose from. No, she decided, she had nothing to
worry about. After the Musk vessel was destroyed, the Huntress would have
immediately initiated a phase translation towards home. Her other self was
undoubtedly there already, with a fresh kill on her record and enjoying the
camaraderie of her shipmates in some port bar, probably bragging about it
to others her age.



Shampoo sipped her drink and thought about how she was going to locate the
resonator signal source on this world. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she
was a Joketsuzoku Amazon, and quitting was not in her nature. Somewhere out
there was the prize she sought, those who had crafted a new development in
resonator technology with such incredible range. She would not give up, no
matter where her search took her, or to whom.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma slowly stirred to consciousness. With a groan, he realized that he
was lying on something hard and cold, but there was also something soft and
warm next to him. His mind was still a bit fogged from his injuries, and he
could not recall immediately where he was or how he had gotten there. He
reached out a hand to try and determine what it was he was lying against,
and the first thing he encountered was something soft and rather squishy in
feel, covered in cloth. Puzzled by the odd sensations, he gently squeezed
it as he opened his eyes, trying to figure out what it was, and why it felt
so pleasant to touch.



Feeling someone suddenly groping her breast and squeezing it, Nabiki’s eyes
snapped open in surprise, at the exact same moment that Ranma’s were
opening more slowly. She blinked once as her brain engaged, and then her
expression hardened. Her response was as quick as it was brutal.



“Ow!” Ranma yelped, as Nabiki reared up and then planted her fist into his
face. When she pulled it back, he demanded, “What the hell did ya do that
for?” He rolled over on to his back and held a hand to his jaw, a fresh
bruise on his cheek. “That hurt, ya know!”



“Good!” Nabiki snapped, sitting up and putting some distance between her
and Ranma. “Keep your hands to yourself, Saotome.”



Nabiki’s body ached in a multitude of places, and it took her a few moments
to remember where she was. The last thing she could recall was when Panther
shoved a cat into her face. She suddenly began to shiver and forced herself
to stop.



Ignoring Ranma for the moment, she began checking her injuries, wincing a
bit at the pains of the bruises on her body. It felt like someone had
worked her over with a sledgehammer, but nothing seemed broken, which was a
relief. Ranma appeared to be worse off than she was, she noted, glancing at
him briefly, and she felt a slight twinge of guilt for punching him while
he was in such a state.



Meanwhile, the pigtailed boy sat up gingerly, feeling like his entire body
was one big bruise. He winced as he felt several sharp pains in his chest,
and he touched his ribs gently. He grunted at the resulting pain, causing
Nabiki to look over at him again.



“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, her tone still a little harsh. “I
didn’t hit you that hard.”



“I think it’s my ribs.” Ranma slowly lifted his shirt and was dismayed to
see several broad contusions on his chest, black and purple in color. It
hurt a bit to breathe, but he was relieved that nothing seemed to be
broken. He had broken ribs and other bones before during training, so he
knew what that felt like. Actually, one of the other Ranma’s had, he
amended. While his chest hurt a lot, the pain wasn’t bad enough to indicate
a break. “That psycho Kashuoh jerk really got me good. I almost had him.”



The bitterness of losing was almost as bad as the fierce aches still
racking his body. He looked away from Nabiki as memories of the fight came
to him. Despite the anger and regret he felt over losing, he could still
feel a dim echo of the fierce joys of the boost, and how much the fight had
thrilled him. It bothered him to realize how much he had changed inside,
how easily he could cast aside the joy he had once taken in his studies,
and replacing it with this undeniable glow he felt in physical competition.



No, not just physical competition, it was fighting that excited him, and he
realized how little he now differed from Akane in that regard, knowing how
much she loved to fight. Suddenly, he felt he understood the youngest Tendo
a little better. He was certain that his eyes had burned with the same fire
he had often seen fill Akane’s and also Nabiki’s eyes. He had felt an
intensity to life while fighting, one he was growing more used to. And when
he boosted, the sensations were magnified many-fold, the thrill burning
like a fire within him, like a previously unlit torch existing within his
heart suddenly igniting.



Nabiki had been a bit startled at hearing Kinnosuke’s name from Ranma. But
suddenly everything made sense now, since the Kashuoh heir’s three
biomechanical playthings had been the ones who had worked her over pretty
good. She cursed herself for totally overlooking him as a possibility for
her mysterious enemy, for letting him manage to fly beneath her radar. He
certainly had the money and the resources to do it. But why would someone
with all that money and power want to take control of her network on
campus? For that matter, why attack Ranma?



“Why would he attack you?” She tried to stand, and her knees wobbled,
forcing her to lean on Ranma for a moment to keep her balance. She still
seemed to be in a slight state of shock from the damage, she realized. She
heard him suck in a breath at the sudden strain she put on him, but he
didn’t utter a complaint.



“I dunno,” said Ranma with a grunt, when she finally eased up on her
leaning on him, finding himself slipping into rougher speech patterns again
as he continued to pull himself together. He forced himself to stand up as
well, taking it slowly. “Man, you’re heavier than you look.”



That remark earned him another quick fist into the face.



“Ow! What the hell did ya hit me for now?” Ranma held his nose, hoping she
hadn’t broken it.



“First you grope me, and now you’re calling me fat?”



“I never said that! I just said you’re heavier than you look.”



Another solid punch impacted into Ranma’s face.



“Ow! Quit hitting me, damn it! You’re gonna give me a concussion!” There
was an odd feeling of déjà vu to the whole experience as Ranma rubbed his
face, but he was not sure why. “Man, not only are you bossy, but you’re at
least as violent as Akane.”



Nabiki glared at him and debated punching him in the face again. “Stop
making stupid remarks, and I’ll stop hitting you. You brought it on
yourself.” She huffed and turned away from him, irritated with herself for
letting Ranma get to her like that. She made an effort to regain her usual
cool poise and reign in her flare of temper. Why was he being so
irritating? Why couldn’t he be like that other Nabiki’s Ranma was? Sure,
that one was a little rough around the edges at times, but at least he
didn’t insult her analog and was certainly nicer than the jerk next to her
was.



Ranma grumbled under his breath, but he decided to leave well enough alone
for now. Three blows to the face in under a minute was giving him a severe
headache and rattling his thoughts, making it difficult to stop himself
from acting like his martial artist analogs. He still kept feeling strong
déjà vu about the whole thing for some reason, as if he had been in almost
this exact same conversation somewhere, most likely with some other world’s
Akane.



He shrugged. It was probably best to avoid making any more comments about
Nabiki within her hearing, even though he still didn’t have the slightest
idea why what he had said could have made her mad enough to hit him. Maybe
he would talk to Ukyo about it sometime and get her opinion.



As Nabiki walked in front of him, she stumbled a bit, but he caught her
before she could fall. They ended up leaning heavily upon each other for
support for a few moments, before abruptly letting go and moving apart,
neither one wanting to admit to any sort of weakness in front of the other.
Ranma decided to change the subject back to something safer for him.



“Anyway, he just kept ranting about how I’d gotten in the way of his plans
for you. That he was going to-” He paused at that point and looked away
from her, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “He said he was
going to hurt you.”



“And you fought him for me, to protect me.” Nabiki studied Ranma as he
stood there in front of her, feeling a fresh surge of annoyance with him at
the thought of him believing she needed defending. It made her sound weak,
like she couldn’t handle her own fights. She frowned at the whole notion,
as her emotions swirled from a mixture of that other Nabiki’s fierce
martial artist pride and the ‘Iron Bitch’ persona she had crafted so long
for herself. Her right hand clenched into a fist at her side, but then it
relaxed back open as she forced herself to calm down. “I didn’t need your
help, Saotome,” she finally said.



“Hey!” Ranma snapped, glaring briefly at Nabiki. “The guy attacked me! He
trapped me in a room full of damn c-c-cats, and then he attacked me!” He
moved to stand right in front of Nabiki as he shouted at her, feeling
frustrated by her attitude, as if the fight was somehow entirely his fault.
The two of them glared at each other as they stood toe to toe, Nabiki
remaining grimly silent. He then looked away when he was done. “Anyway, I
didn’t do it for you. Let’s just be straight about that.”



Nabiki sighed as she suddenly realized what she was doing, how twisted up
her feelings were getting at the moment. Was it always going to be this
difficult between them? This tense? She had proven in their last fight that
she was his better, restoring herself to her proper place after the brief
aberration that had occurred after her loss to him in their first duel with
each other. She felt again that part of her that wished Ranma was more like
the one she was familiar with, the one her other self had as her fiancé.



The one who had been willing to stand in her shadow, she mused, turning to
look at the pigtailed boy with a new regard in her gaze. No, the Ranma
before her now wasn’t like him at all, wasn’t content to be her...
inferior. Instead, this one had memories of experiences like hers, of ten
years spent travelling with Genma Saotome, of undergoing intense trials and
training methods that would turn him into a superior fighter. She knew he
would keep pressing her, striving and struggling with her to surpass her in
skill, a true rival in the Art, because that hunger to be the best was now
in his nature.



Nabiki knew just how good Ranma was in a fight, and she was genuinely
intrigued by the sheer challenge he presented her, something her other self
had never known with her version of Ranma. In fact, her other self had
never really had any rivals in the Art to match skills against. So the
thought of having him with her, both as a husband and as a rival, watching
her back and also competing with her as they drove each other onwards to
ever greater levels of skill, felt pretty good, even kind of exciting. But
she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, her stubborn pride refusing to
let her give in to him even that much, so she changed the subject instead.



“It’s getting late,” she said finally, glancing at her watch and seeing
that it was nearly ten at night. They must have been unconscious for
several hours now. “Let me take you to someone I know who can fix us both
up and keep it quiet. Then I’m going home to a bath and some sleep.”



“Is it Tofu-sensei?” Ranma asked with a sudden look her way, suddenly
remembering the man from two versions of his life. He was taken for a
moment by how cute Nabiki was in profile, even as bloodied and bruised as
she was right now. He quickly attempted to banish the thought. She was not
cute. It was only a biological imperative speaking, his brain reacting to
her pheromones due to the symbiotes within them both, nothing more.



Reminded about the symbiotes, Ranma briefly wondered if Nabiki knew about
Project Phoenix. She most likely did, knowing who her father was, but now
wasn’t really a good time to talk about such things. Visiting Dr. Tofu
would be a better use of the time, if he wanted to be able to move at all
in the morning. He could always feel her out later about what she might
know about the Project.



Nabiki glanced at him and nodded, quickly realizing that Ranma must have
known of the man from one of his analogs. “He married Kasumi a little over
a year ago.” She then looked away from the pigtailed boy, feeling somewhat
embarrassed to remember the crush she had once had on Tofu, back when he
had first become engaged to marry Kasumi. It was the first time she could
recall feeling such a strong physical attraction to a man, like she did
towards Ranma. Akane had felt it as well.



It had been something they had shared in private conversations with each
other. They had both been a bit envious of their eldest sister for marrying
a handsome doctor like Tofu Ono, but happy for her as well. It had only
been a little over a year now, but it felt like forever.



Nabiki forcibly turned her mind away from thoughts of Akane, and her mind
was still regrettably blank on how she would explain her recent engagement
to Ranma to her little sister. She was certain that Akane wasn’t going to
take it very well when she found out, no matter how she presented it. So
she would wait a while longer to tell her, when she felt she had the proper
words to do so. That would be for the best.



“Anyway,” she said, moving away from Ranma and slowly making her way down
the hallway to the front door. “I’m sure we can trust him to fix us up and
keep it to himself. I don’t want Daddy getting involved with this. It’s my
problem.” She felt her body aching with every step.



“Nabiki,” Ranma spoke up suddenly behind her. “There’s something you should
know about your father.”



“What?” She turned back to face him, her look questioning.



Ranma couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling a fresh wave of guilt for the chain
of events he had unintentionally set into motion on the day of his father’s
accident. “Genma constructed another resonator unit. He used it on your
father.”



She suddenly surged forward and grasped him strongly by the collar of his
shirt, and he looked up to see her glaring at him, their faces now only
inches apart.



“What did you say?!” she demanded.



Ranma swallowed. As he looked into her eyes, he thought she was going to
hit him again, but he didn’t drop his gaze and met hers steadily.



“Genma switched your father for the one from the timeline where he came
from. It happened a day or two ago, I think.” He then put his hands on
hers, beginning to pull them free of his shirt when she suddenly let go. He
was startled when Nabiki’s shoulders slumped, her head drooping down.



“No,” she whispered hollowly, having seen the truth in his eyes. Brief
images of her father flashed across her vision as she stood there, of his
strength, his courage and his willpower. She suddenly whipped her face back
up, glaring at Ranma fiercely. “How could he even think of something like
this? This is Genma Saotome we’re talking about. If he’s anything like the
man I know, he’s an idiot!”



Seeing Ranma’s eyes suddenly fill with compassion, the strength of her fury
tempered itself, and she dropped her hands to her side as she looked at the
ground. Her father had always been the one thing she could depend on in her
life after her mother died. He was the stern patriarch of their family, the
one person in this world she had always respected and could always count on
to be strong, no matter what the world threw at them. And now that
foundation was gone, taken from her, replaced by a much different Soun
Tendo, one like the weak man of her counterpart’s life, maybe even far
worse. Tears of rage began to roll down her cheeks as she shut her eyes,
her body beginning to tremble as her fury built again, a fury at Genma
Saotome messing over her life, like the Genma her other self knew had so
often done.



“We’ll get him back, Nabiki,” Ranma said firmly, putting a hand on her left
shoulder and squeezing companionably, absently noting its lithe solidity
under her clothing, a result of the intensive training her mother had once
given her as well as their training at the Academy. He was certain her body
would only get even stronger and more capable at fighting, as his own was
doing, as their muscles continued to gain in strength and their flexibility
improved, becoming better able to perform the maneuvers that their brains
already knew.



Nabiki had already improved enough to master the Amaguriken technique.
While it gave her a clear advantage at present, he was certain he could
match her speed, given time. He had to. He was not about to let her advance
beyond his reach, not in this life, not ever. He would not let himself
become like that other version of himself, his male ego simply refusing to
do so.



“You’re damn right we’re going to get him back, Ranma,” she said slowly as
she lifted her face to look at him once again. “We’re going to get them
both back, no matter what it takes.”



Ranma was surprised to see the tears on her cheeks, underscoring the
determined set of her jaw and mouth. As far as he knew, nobody at the
Academy had ever seen her like this. Nabiki Tendo was near legendary for
her ability to maintain a stoic composure and remain in control of a
situation, no matter what. So it was a shock for him to realize that inside
the hard shell she always projected was a girl with feelings and passions,
that this was the same person who had coolly beaten him up in a fight only
mere days ago. He nodded as they looked at each other.



Nabiki suddenly felt a bit ashamed of herself, for showing weakness like
this to anyone, let alone him. She was the Iron Bitch of the Imperial
Academy, and to show tears in front of Ranma, her rival, the guy she had
taken down in a duel recently, offended her pride. But she just couldn’t
seem to bring herself to push him away, to reassert that role, her pride be
damned.



They stood like that for some time, Ranma’s hand gently squeezing her
shoulder supportively, gazing at each other with a quiet intensity there in
the dimness of the hallway. Ranma felt tears of his own welling upwards in
his eyes, realizing that they had both lost their fathers in a way. They
had that in common. He tried to regain control of himself, not wanting to
appear unmanly in front of her.



Nabiki was the first to break eye contact. “You tell anyone about this, and
I’ll kill you, Saotome,” she muttered. She heard Ranma chuckle for a moment
as the tension between them lifted a bit, and she felt a brief moment of
irritation that he might have been laughing at her.



“I believe you, Nabiki,” Ranma said sincerely after a pause. “Your secret
is safe with me.”



She lifted her face and looked at him again, intending to laugh with him at
the situation they were in. Their gazes met for a moment, and time seemed
to stop for each of them. Nabiki felt her breath catch in her throat.



Ranma froze when his eyes met hers. He felt an unexpected urge come over
him, to take her in his arms and kiss her. A single swallow went down his
throat, but otherwise he didn’t move. He couldn’t move.



Nabiki was barely in the lead to look away first, her heart pounding in her
chest, a bit overwhelmed by what she was suddenly feeling inside. She had
almost kissed him. No, they had almost kissed each other. She turned away
from Ranma as she wiped away her already drying tears, her mind shying away
from that thought to a sudden concern about her appearance.



After suffering a beating a few hours ago and a brief bout of crying just
now, she was certain she looked like a horrible mess, and she half expected
Ranma to make some more smart-mouthed remarks. But even as her mind sought
to block it out with such concerns, to not deal with it, she could remember
back when she had impulsively kissed him. He had been unconscious at the
time, during his accident with the resonator, the one that had left him
linked for most of a day to his analog in the world where Professor Saotome
was still trapped.



Since he wasn’t aware of it, it didn’t really count.



Boys had always been far too afraid of her, or her father, to come near her
and try to pursue a romantic relationship, at least until recently,
thinking about Kuno and Touga. Kuno she could dismiss right away, but there
was something about Touga that was interesting to her. He had a certain
quality to him that appealed to her strongly, as well as being a
marvelously handsome boy.



However, despite her attraction to the young nobleman, during a moment of
self-realization, she actually wanted her first real kiss to be with Ranma.
She felt shocked at how easily that thought occurred, and how natural. It
had almost happened now, but the circumstances were all wrong. Both of them
were too stressed right now.



Nabiki forcibly slowed her breathing. When she finally regained some
control over herself, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, just
as he looked her way at the same moment. Both of them quickly blushed and
turned their gazes away from each other again, and Nabiki’s breath caught
in her throat again.



“A-anyway,” said Ranma, feeling uncomfortable at the situation, unsure what
had almost possessed him to kiss Nabiki, wondering what it would feel like
to have her lips pressed against his. So what did that mean? Did he like
her? Maybe he did, a little bit, he finally conceded. She wasn’t that same
girl he’d first met months ago, not anymore.



He put his hand up behind his head and rested it there a moment, a nervous
gesture he had inherited from his other selves. “We should get going,” he
managed to finish.



While he acknowledged he felt a definite physical attraction towards the
middle Tendo daughter, Ranma still couldn’t decide how much he liked the
person she was, or if he really even did like her at all, beyond what his
hormones were controlling. She was supposed to be his fiancée, but they
weren’t exactly even friends yet. They were unlikely allies at best, thrown
together by chance. But the intense passions conjured up within him during
that brief moment when they had looked at each other had thrown his mind
into turmoil, filling it with many more questions than answers. He backed
away from her, hoping some distance would clear his thoughts.



“Right,” Nabiki quickly agreed, feeling her own confusion flaring up as
well. “Let’s go.” She took a few steps and then paused a moment, her
thoughts still shying away from thinking about kissing him and what it
might mean in order to focus on something easier. “Ranma?” Her tone became
a bit fiercer. “I want to deal with this Kinnosuke creep myself. I want him
to know he’s picked a fight with the wrong girl, him and his three
overbuilt playthings. Just so you understand. I want you to stay out of it.
Okay?”



“Hey, I owe the guy too,” Ranma protested as he caught up with her. They
began walking side by side. “I owe him big.” Nabiki only grunted at him in
reply, feeling irritated again at his continual defiance of her requests.



Luckily, when they got outside, they saw that the rain had stopped, leaving
behind numerous puddles to reflect the stars and the moon in a now
cloudless sky. They both sagged a bit when they reached the door, and they
helped hold each other up. Neither of them thought anything of it this
time. Nabiki glanced down at Ranma’s feet.



“Where are your shoes?” she asked, curious.



“I must have lost them in the fight, or when I was brought upstairs, I
guess.” He looked down at his feet, a bit distracted by the feelings
generated by holding his arm around Nabiki. Well, to be fair, she was
holding him up as much as he was supporting her, he thought. “I have an
extra pair in my locker. I’ll go get them, and then we get going to
Tofu-sensei’s place.”



Nabiki sighed again. “That’s going to be a long walk.” It felt nice to hold
each other like this, she mused absently, deciding to tolerate it for the
time being.



“Gotcha covered,” Ranma said with a grin, pulling his new set of keys out
of a pocket and jingling them in front of her. “I’ll give you a ride.”



“With what?”



“I’ve got a motorcycle,” he replied, as they started to head towards the
main academy building.



Nabiki’s gaze narrowed slightly. “And where did you get that from?”



“Uh, I got it as a present from Kodachi’s father,” he said and then he felt
Nabiki stop walking.



“I see.” Nabiki’s tone was calm, but irritation seared within her. It was
just like the nobility to try and buy loyalty with money or gifts. Her
thoughts flickered briefly to Touga again for a moment and she blushed,
wondering why she had thought of him. Did she hope he might send her a
present? It would leave her indebted to him, and Nabiki did not care to
ever be in anyone’s debt. She was grateful that Ranma wasn’t looking at her
face at that moment as she fought down the sudden blush that thoughts of
Touga were causing her.



A few minutes after they had retrieved Ranma’s spare shoes from his locker,
they were speeding along the road on his new motorcycle, Nabiki sitting
astride it behind him, her arms around him as the wind rushed through her
hair. It was an exhilarating sort of feeling. She leaned up against his
back, finding herself enjoying being this close to him. A stray thought of
the Road Ronin on that other Nabiki’s world came to her, but she quickly
banished it.



Ranma’s injuries were hampering his abilities to drive, so he took it easy
as they drove through the town. He glanced down at Nabiki’s arms, her hands
locked firmly together at his waist, feeling her body pressed up against
him from behind, the warmth of her. He felt the familiar tingles of desire
for her running up and down his spine at the contact, even over the pains
of his injuries.



Ranma still wasn’t sure he liked her, but maybe that was because he was not
letting himself get to know her as she was now, instead of holding on to
the image of her former self, the Iron Bitch, or those other versions of
her that his counterparts knew. She could be nice, he suspected, but they
seemed to keep rubbing each other the wrong way. Nabiki was almost a year
older than him, supposedly more mature, but he suspected she was feeling
just as confused by all that had happened as he was. He could not bring
himself to talk to her about it. He wasn’t even sure how to broach the
subject.



Sighing once, Ranma leaned forward a little and concentrated on his
driving. He would give some consideration as to how he should deal with
this. He was sure some logical thought would give him an answer. Maybe he
would have another one of those dreams and talk to Ranko about the matter.
As it was, he was coming up empty on his own.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Miyuki and Natsumi were sitting in their parked patrol car, enjoying some
fresh pork buns on their break, when Ranma and Nabiki sped by in front of
them.



“Those kids looks like they’re out kind of late on a school night,” Natsumi
commented, sitting up straight as she tossed the last bit of her pork bun
into her mouth.



“Saves us from a slow shift.” Miyuki grinned as she started the engine and
pulled out of the side alley they had been parked in. She eyed the pair
receding away from them down the road, and her eyes glinted for a moment in
anticipation of the chase. She floored the accelerator and switched on the
lights. “Hang on.”



Ranma blinked as he noticed the lights and siren quickly approaching in his
right rearview mirror. He glanced at the speedometer, which read
comfortably within the speed limit, and he was puzzled why they were being
followed by a peaceforcer vehicle. “We’ve got company,” he said over his
shoulder.



Glancing back behind them, Nabiki grimaced. This wasn’t going to look good.
Both of them had obviously been in a fight and were covered with cuts,
scrapes and bruises. She turned back. “Better pull over and let me do the
talking,” she suggested.



Ranma nodded and pulled the motorcycle over to the side of the road, only
realizing then that he was driving without a license. He had never been in
trouble with the authorities before. He felt a cold sweat come over him and
swallowed nervously as the patrol car quickly slid up behind them. The
siren switched off, but the lights were left flashing as the occupants got
out, both carrying flashlights. Even through the glare of the beams shining
on them, he could tell that they were both women, the one on the driver
side coming up with her hand resting casually on the butt of her service
pistol as she flipped open a ticket book with her free hand. The other one
was remaining by the patrol car, but he could feel her watching them
closely.



“Is there a problem, officer?” Nabiki asked pleasantly.



“Let’s see some ID, kids,” Miyuki said professionally as she stopped next
to them, shining her light over them. Upon seeing their beaten-up
condition, her eyes narrowed a bit. “What happened to the two of you?”



Nabiki pulled her identification card out of her pocket, handed it over and
then replied calmly, “We had a little accident is all. We’re on our way
home now.”



Miyuki grunted, having heard the same thing from countless delinquent kids
before, and many of them came from good families. Her opinion of the pair
dropped as she took Ranma’s proffered ID as well. “License?”



“The idiot forgot it at home,” Nabiki lied smoothly. She bapped him on the
head as Ranma tried a sheepish grin to look more innocent.



Miyuki paused as she saw the name on Nabiki’s ID card. “Tendo?” she asked,
looking at Nabiki more closely. “Any relation to Soun Tendo?”



“He’s my father,” Nabiki said calmly.



Miyuki nodded. “You kids wait here. I’ll be right back.” With a calm look,
she headed back to the patrol car. Inside, her heart thudded in her chest.
She had just stopped Soun Tendo’s daughter, the daughter of the man who was
thought by many to be first in line to become the new Director of Imperial
Security when the current one finally retired. She sat down in the car, her
hands shaking a little as she pulled out the computer’s keypad and started
to tap in their ID numbers out of reflex.



“What’s the matter, Miyuki?” asked Natsumi in curiosity, taking her eyes
off the couple on the motorcycle to look into the car. Her partner looked
rather pale.



“That’s Soun Tendo’s daughter on the back of that bike.” Miyuki looked back
at her partner. “She looks like she’s been in a fight and so does the guy
with her. They might be involved in one of the local gangs.” Both of them
were well aware there were a lot of delinquent youths in the Nerima area,
almost all of them attending either Furinkan or St. Hebereke.



Natsumi whistled softly. Soun Tendo was a name a lot farther up the
bureaucratic food chain than they were. If his daughter was hooked up in
some kind of gang trouble, this could break his career. On the other hand,
that sort of scandal could get squashed rather quickly, along with anyone
who could report such a scandal.



“So what are we going to do?”



Miyuki thought for a moment and then said, “We’re just going to do
everything by the book.” She went back to keying in their ID numbers.
Ranma’s file came up first, and she noted that he had just been issued his
license that day, through some kind of special permit. His record was
absolutely clean of any criminal activity, without any trouble with the
authorities listed, hardly the profile of a troubled kid.



She started to input Nabiki’s ID number, a bead of sweat forming on her
forehead from her nervousness.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Hinako Ninomiya relaxed in her car while driving home, listening to the
radio playing one of Mozart’s symphonies. Work had been stressful, and
rumors were starting to fly around now that Director Sagara had finally
made the announcement that his retirement would take place in June, which
had placed every upper-level bureaucrat in the Directorate on high alert.
There was likely going to be a major shakeup in the power structure after
the Emperor and his inner council chose a new leader to head up the agency.
So, to relieve her tensions, she had visited with Major Rokubungi, an
unannounced one, finding him alone in his office at Furinkan Academy as
sunset faded.



The subsequent encounter on his desk had taken some of the edge off of her,
and more had been dealt with at his apartment over the past few hours.
While she was still feeling slightly unsatisfied, she had left him asleep
on his bed after having taken all that he could give her, enjoyed a long,
steaming hot shower, dressed and then left his place without a word of
goodbye. That was the way it was between them, and it suited them both
quite well.



What concerned her most was that the only person who had been quite
noticeably unconcerned with Directorate politics lately was Soun Tendo. He
had been working less than his usual twelve-hour days, and her spies among
his underlings reported that he was far more interested in this engagement
going on between his middle daughter and the Saotome boy for the past
couple of days. Such a breech in his character meant he was up to something
clever, she was certain of it.



Soun Tendo, no matter how she despised him, was no fool. No, he had to know
something. Could it be that he already knew he was going to be selected as
the next Security Director? Why else would he be acting so calm about it?
That could explain the recent change in his demeanor, an attempt to throw
his rivals off the scent. If he was to become the new Security Director,
that meant he had the trust of the Emperor himself. That represented
tremendous power in the Empire.



It would also mean that she would be under his command, she thought
unhappily, her fingers whitening as her grip tightened on the steering
wheel. If that happened, he could crush her ambitions, even block her off
from her plans for Ranma, and she was not about to lose such an
opportunity. She had been reading the files Ranma had been kind enough to
unknowingly decrypt for her, and the details of Project Phoenix were
proving to be fascinating material. Except for the boost, the genetic
improvements that were caused by the Eucharist symbiote matched her own
abilities far too closely to be coincidence, so she had taken a sample of
her own blood to be tested by a technician she controlled in one of the
Directorate’s biolabs.



In a few days, she would know if there were any pathogens matching the
Eucharist’s characteristics within her body. Regrettably, she would have to
quickly eliminate the technician in question once she had her answer, to
prevent any leaks, but years of experience dealing with men and their
weakness for a beautiful woman had taught her that they were nothing more
than an infinitely replaceable commodity, to be disposed of as necessary.
However, she mused, Ranma Saotome might prove to be an exception to that
rule, and maybe the first male to truly satisfy her physical needs, since
he was the first being like herself she had ever discovered.



An almost predatory smile brushed across her lips at the notion. It had
been a long time since she had felt this sort of anticipation about
spending time with a man (or boy in Ranma’s case). Well, she mused, she
would make him a man soon enough and she was confident that it would only
take a little coaxing on her part. She chuckled at that.



Hinako turned the corner to the street her apartment high-rise was on, and
she was surprised at who she saw sitting astride a motorcycle with some
girl who was vaguely familiar to her for some reason, parked over by the
side of the road. A peaceforcer patrol car sat behind them, its red and
blue lights flashing. She started to drive past when an idea came to her,
and she pulled her car over to stop in front of Ranma’s parked motorcycle.



Miyuki looked up as the strange car came to a halt. She got out of the
patrol vehicle, and so did Natsumi. The two glanced at each other for a
moment, unsure what to make of this. The license plates on the car were
Security Directorate issue.



Ranma and Nabiki watched as a rather stunning beauty of a woman emerged
from the car that had stopped in front of them, dressed in the familiar
gray uniform of a female Security Directorate officer. She was rather tall,
with long legs that seemed to draw Ranma’s eyes to what he could see of
them below her knee-length skirt and to her generous bust. Her hair was
worn long and hung straight down her back, ending just a little below her
shoulders in a lustrous wave.



“Hinako Ninomiya,” Nabiki whispered, her voice sounding hollow, sudden
memories surfacing of the woman, brought in as a special disciplinarian in
order to impose order at Furinkan High School in that other world, shortly
before the memories of that life had been downloaded into her. Normally,
that other Hinako appeared as a child, but she could grow to look exactly
like the woman in front of them after draining chi energy from a human. But
Nabiki also knew of her in this world, from studying who was who among the
top brass of the Security Directorate. This situation she found herself in
with Ranma had suddenly turned worse.



Ranma glanced back at Nabiki, wondering why she had sounded almost awed
when she said that name. She was just sitting there staring as the tall
woman strode forward, her heels clicking on the pavement as she started to
walk past them. Then she paused and glanced at them.



“I’ll take care of this, you two,” said Hinako with a neutral look, her
gaze briefly studying their appearance, noting their battered condition
with mild interest. Now that she was closer, she could tell that the girl
with Ranma was Nabiki Tendo. She eyed Nabiki and smiled coyly. “Consider
this a favor to your father, Tendo-san.” Then she continued on past them,
her heels clicking as she reached into her jacket pocket and casually
pulled out her ID.



“Whatever it is you stopped them for, please forget about it,” Hinako said
firmly to both women, flipping open a leather case and showing her badge
and ID. “This is Security Directorate business, so I’ll take it from here,
ladies.”



Miyuki and Natsumi blinked once, and then they pulled up straight and
snapped crisp salutes to Hinako. After receiving a brief nod from her
acknowledging the salutes, Miyuki hastily handed Ranma and Nabiki’s ID
cards over to Hinako. The pair got back in their patrol car and drove away
quickly. Miyuki watched the scene receding behind them in her rear-view
mirror.



“Hey, Miyuki,” said Natsumi, a little subdued. “What just happened?”



Her partner replied, “I don’t know. But I don’t think we should even be
asking. Let’s just forget it. Our shift is over in a few hours, and I think
I’ll want a drink. Actually, I know I will.”



Natsumi grunted once in agreement and settled back in her seat.



Meanwhile, Hinako calmly replaced her badge into her jacket pocket and
turned around. She strolled back over to the young couple watching her. A
single streetlamp lit the scene as she stopped in front of them again. She
handed them back their ID cards.



“Uh, thanks,” said Ranma, looking confused as he took his.



“Yeah, thanks,” Nabiki added, taking the proffered card. She studied the
other woman uncertainly while she maintained a cool demeanor.



“It was no problem,” Hinako replied in a personable tone, and then she
smiled slightly at Ranma. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Hinako
Ninomiya of the Security Directorate. And you’re Ranma Saotome and Nabiki
Tendo.”



Ranma was surprised. “You know us?”



“My father’s spoken of you,” said Nabiki at almost the same time in a flat
tone. Her eyes narrowed slightly.



Hinako turned her gaze to Nabiki. “I’m sure he has, Tendo-san,” she replied
back coolly, locking eyes with the Tendo girl as they glared at each other
in a subtle fashion. Both of their expressions were calm, except for around
the eyes. “I’m sure he has.”



“If you’ll excuse us,” said Nabiki calmly, bowing her head slightly without
quite breaking eye contact with the other woman. “We have to get
somewhere.” Still not moving her gaze from meeting Hinako’s, she said in a
firm aside to Ranma, “Let’s go, Ranma-kun.”



“Uh, right.” He turned the key and kick-started the motor back to life. He
bowed as best he could to Hinako, taking care not to strain his ribs. He
had never seen this woman before in any of his lives, but he could feel
tension practically radiating from Nabiki. The strange woman’s lush
femininity was an almost tangible presence to him, quite similar in many
ways to how Kodachi, Nabiki and Ukyo made him feel, so it was likely just
as well for them to leave this situation behind. He felt a bit nervous
around Hinako for some reason, even though he could not sense any sort of
threat to him coming from her. “Goodnight, Ninomiya-san.”



Hinako stepped back a little from the pair. “Farewell, you two,” she said
pleasantly, briefly breaking her staring match with Nabiki to look at Ranma
and smile rather sensuously at him. “Saotome-san, perhaps we will meet
again another time.”



“Uh, sure,” said Ranma, twisting the throttle up a bit as he put it in
gear. They accelerated away from the woman smoothly, Ranma keeping his eyes
on the road now.



Nabiki leaned against Ranma’s back as she held him around the waist, her
expression one of worry. The woman had obviously wanted something, and she
had been entirely too interested in her fiancé for Nabiki’s liking. Her
grip around his waist tightened imperceptibly.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



After visiting with Dr. Tofu, Ranma dropped her off at her house and left.
Nabiki walked inside, feeling dragged out but no longer in any significant
pain. Her brother-in-law’s skills were the best, she mused with a tired
smile. But now all she wanted to do was soak in some hot water for a bit,
and then collapse into bed.



The next few days were going to be busy. Now that she had a name for her
foe, she could begin formulating a strategy to deal with Kinnosuke and his
trio of walking, talking sex toys. She practically crawled up the stairs of
the quiet house and went into her bedroom to undress for her bath, the wood
planks of the floor creaking very so slightly from her footsteps. She could
not remember ever feeling so tired before.



She wondered what she was going to do about her father. It was going to
take all of her skills at subterfuge, but she would not let him even
suspect what she knew. Until her real father was back, she would just keep
pretending that the man inhabiting her father’s body was him. It should
only be for a few days, so she just had to hold out for a little while
longer.



As she started to remove her clothing, Nabiki noticed that the message
light was blinking on her private phone line. She reached over and casually
tapped the playback button before going back to undressing. Most of the
messages were minor things, messages from her subordinates reporting in and
one from Yohko, wondering if she would be free to do some shopping this
weekend.



Then came a surprising voice.



“Nabiki Tendo, this is Touga Kiryuu,” she heard the message begin. “It
seems that Ohtori Academy’s spring formal is coming up once again. I would
like you to attend it with me, and I promise you an entertaining evening in
my company. Please call me when you get this message, and we can discuss
when I shall pick you up for our date.” He then recited a brief series of
digits. “That number is my private line. I expect your call. Until then.”
The message ended there.



Well, that was interesting, Nabiki mused, pulling out the chair from her
desk and sitting down. When she gave him her telephone number during the
visit to Ohtori with Ranma, she had known he would call, but she was not
expecting an invitation to a formal dance. It sounded like it would be fun,
and it would help take her mind off things.



A smirk appeared on her face as she reached for her telephone. She would
show Ranma Saotome that he needed to treat her better, before some other
boy like Touga swept her off her feet. Not that she was the type of girl to
let herself get carried away like that, she amended, but Ranma didn’t need
to know that. The threat of competition would be good for him and should
bring him around to trying to treat her better.



Nabiki began dialing the number Touga had given her, already thinking about
what sort of dress she would buy for herself while she was out shopping
with Yohko. It would have to be something stunning.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“I’m home,” Ranma called out tiredly as he kicked off his shoes in the
entryway area, closing the front door behind him. Even after being treated
by Dr. Tofu and being assured that nothing was broken, he still felt like
he wanted to sleep for a week. Luckily, the man was as skilled as the ones
that Ranma knew from those other lives. After showing up at the house he
and Kasumi lived in together and explaining the situation, he had let them
in with a professional smile.



Dr. Tofu had worked on him first, since he was worse off. The man had
flipped him around, adjusting wrenched joints and popping everything back
into place, all in under thirty seconds, even poking pressure points that
would speed healing. Then, as he recovered on the couch and drank some
orange juice that Kasumi had kindly offered him, Tofu had repeated the
process with Nabiki. Hearing Nabiki yelp a bit as she was getting fixed up
had certainly made him feel a little better about her beating up on him
earlier.



It was nice to see Kasumi married and living a more normal life, but it was
also weird to see her anywhere else other than taking care of the Tendos.
And there had also been something that felt a little false about the smile
she gave him, as if she was tense about something but not wanting to show
it. It was probably just his imagination. Kasumi was one of the happiest
people he knew, in any world he was familiar with so far, so he was sure he
had just been seeing things due to his exhaustion. Besides, Nabiki didn’t
seem to notice anything out of place, so nothing could have been wrong. He
decided to chalk it up to a minor variance between timelines and leave it
at that.



After dropping Nabiki off at her house, he went straight home. All he
wanted to do was fall down and sleep. He started to walk towards the stairs.



After classes were over tomorrow, he would finalize the construction of his
copy of Ranko’s device, incorporating within it the ability to home in on
transponder units like the one he had instructed his father how to create.
Of course, once it was built, he would then have to test it, trusting in
his own technical expertise that he would be able to return to this world,
to the transponder unit he had already created and would leave activated in
his lab. If the test failed-



No, he couldn’t think like that, shaking his head. Nothing would go wrong,
and he would return to his lab on the Kuno estate.



Nodoka came out of the kitchen, smiling as she wiped her hands on a towel.
“Hello, Ranma. How was your eve-” she began and then stopped, staring at
his battered appearance. “Ranma! What happened?”



“Hmm?” said Genma, coming into the room. “Something happen on your date
with Nabiki, boy?”



“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Ranma muttered, walking past them
both and heading towards his room.



Nodoka was worried. She turned to Genma. “Perhaps you should talk to him,
Dearest. I think this is one of those times when a boy needs his father
more than his mother.”



Genma nodded and grunted, and then he headed off to Ranma’s room. He
knocked once at the door and then walked in without waiting for any
response. He saw Ranma in the midst of pulling his shirt off, and he noted
the bruises the boy had. Shutting the door behind him, he said, “So, what
happened, boy?”



Ranma wadded up his shirt and tossed it into a corner of his room. He
glared at Genma and said, “Look, Pop, I’ve had a really bad day. The last
thing I need right now is you.”



“Nabiki beat you up on your date?” Genma ventured, grinning a bit. He shook
his head. “I swear, you’re an even bigger loser with the girls than my own
son is. If it was all left up to you, you and Nabiki will never get
married.”



Ranma hung his head and tried to repress the urge to kill Genma.



“Luckily, you’ve got me in your corner, boy. It looks like the first thing
we need to work on is your conditioning. It just won’t do to have you
getting beaten up by your own fiancée. Don’t you have any pride at all?
What kind of a man loses to a woman?”



Ranma’s temper finally snapped, and his eyes flashed as he glared at Genma
and sprang to attack. “DIE, OLD MAN!”



There was a brief commotion heard from within Ranma’s room, and then
Genma’s body went flying out the window. Luckily, the opening was just
sizable enough to fit his bulk through, although Ranma still had to aim
pretty carefully. After Genma slammed into the ground out in the yard,
Ranma shut the window, drew the curtains closed and then turned off his
lights and went to bed. He fell asleep within moments.



Genma rested upside down on the lawn briefly before falling over,
unconscious.



Nodoka sighed as she went out to pick her husband up and assist him back
into the house. If only she knew what the trouble was between them, then
maybe she could help them sort it out.



Still, it had been a very good throw on Ranma’s part, she noted with no
small amount of pride in him, pleased at the high level of his fighting
skills. She hoped that things were working out as well for him with the
girls in his life now as his training was going. Other than that nice Utena
girl, he hadn’t brought any of the others home yet. He was spending the
most time after school with Ukyo, so maybe she would be the next one to
visit for the night.



Well, she was probably worrying over nothing. They all seemed like such
nice girls, even Kenseiko’s daughter, Kodachi, and she was glad he was
enjoying such an active social life now. It hadn’t been good for a boy his
age to spend all his time cooped up inside some lab. And he was acting so
much more manly lately, so there was likely nothing for her to worry about.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Defeat. Failure.



Kinnosuke Kashuoh lay in his bed, his wounds wrapped in gauze as he
considered both words, finding a strong distaste for them. He rested in
between a bandaged Lynx and Panther, both catgirls now sleeping. Tiger had
been banished from his bed for her part in the fiasco, for leading him to
believe victory was within his reach. He should be enjoying that victory
now, but he held only ashes. The other two had narrowly escaped sharing
Tiger’s fate, but they were on notice that he would no longer tolerate any
further mistakes.



However, the truth of the matter was that it was all Ranma Saotome’s fault.
He had stacked the deck in his favor against the other boy, chosen his
terrain carefully for their duel by exploiting a known weakness in his
enemy and then was victorious over Ranma, savagely beating him unconscious.
But he had won the battle only to lose the campaign to claim Nabiki Tendo.
In turn, she had defeated him in single combat and forced him to abandon
the field of battle and retreat to consider his loss.



However, he could not bring himself to hate Nabiki. No, her victory over
him had only strengthened his desires for her, to have her at his side as
his mate. Her power and skill were undeniable and defeating her at the
height of her abilities would make his inevitable conquest of her all the
sweeter.



This was only a minor setback for him. He would let Nabiki have back the
pieces of her organization. It no longer interested him, and pawns were
meant to be sacrificed after all, as he had sacrificed the Wolf Pack when
they proved too weak for his uses. No, his only interest was for the queen
now. He had let himself get distracted from that goal, playing petty games
with pawns. But, once the queen was taken, the game was all but won.



That left the matter of Ranma Saotome, the enemy king. Kinnosuke felt his
anger swell again within him at the mere thought of the pigtailed boy. Time
after time, Ranma had disrupted his plans and cost him allies and
resources. He closed his eyes and reviewed what he knew of the other boy.



Where had Ranma learned how to fight so well? Until several weeks ago, he
had been Akane Tendo’s favorite target for bullying, displaying no talent
whatsoever for martial arts, apparently unable to fight back even as the
youngest Tendo gleefully tyrannized him. But that had obviously been a
clever disguise of the pigtailed boy’s true skill. It was obvious now that
he was always much more than he had let himself appear and now he was even
the new apprentice to the Arena legend, Jun Fan Lee, also known as the
Dragon.



No, no one suddenly woke up one day and manifested fighting skills like
Ranma’s. Ability like that took years of training, maybe a decade, so Ranma
must have had them all along. He had simply kept them hidden until the
youngest Tendo must have just pushed him too far one day.



Kinnosuke frowned. How he hated Ranma Saotome now, with a clarity of
passion that was almost liberating in an odd way. The next time they faced
each other, there would be no clever tricks or traps. It would just be the
two of them in single combat, doing battle in a Darwinian test of fitness,
and Ranma would fall before him, leaving the field clear for him to claim
Nabiki Tendo for his own as a mate.



Kinnosuke sighed, his injuries still paining him a bit. He knew he needed
some time away from this situation, time to heal and prepare. Grandfather
had suggested Whitehall, and it would be a simple enough matter for him to
transfer there. Money and influence helped in such things.



He closed his eyes and snuggled down with a warm body on either side of
him, and he let himself sleep and dream of conquest over his enemies.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



In her bedroom, Tiger sat on her bed with her knees drawn up, dressed in a
sheer nightgown in pink her master had once given her as a gift. She had
worn it hoping to cheer herself up, but it wasn’t working. Her face was wan
with sadness.



Kinnosuke-sama was angry with her.



After returning to the manor, he had called her useless and upbraided her
as a failure. She sniffled at the memory of him yelling at her, blaming her
for what had happened with Ranma and Nabiki, while Lynx and Panther watched
her fall from grace with glittering eyes. She lowered her face to rest
between her knees and let herself cry. How had it all gone so wrong?



Tiger felt miserable as she desperately tried to think of some way to
return to her master’s side. There had to be something she could do. At
this point, she would do anything to escape this sadness filling her. The
night felt so lonely without being near him.



Even though her master had defeated Ranma Saotome, she received no credit
for bringing him the information on the pigtailed boy’s fears. While
Kinnosuke-sama certainly had not needed it, didn’t she deserve a little
leniency for finding out such a thing about Ranma? Perhaps this really was
her fault. Why did she not remember until it was too late what had happened
when his fear had overcome him? Nabiki Tendo had done as Ranma had that
final day they had fought each other, becoming this fearsome fighting
machine.



Why could she not remember what had happened? Just what had occurred
between her and Ranma after that fight? There was this vagueness in her
memories from the point Ranma changed into that bestial mode and then her
first clear memory was of waking up cuddled next to him in his cot, their
clothing in disarray. She suddenly felt confusion as she explored these
thoughts, and her personality governors redirected them away from Ranma.
She sighed, feeling lonely for her Kinnosuke-sama, for the time being
having already forgotten her musings about Ranma.



She went back to hugging her knees, her catlike ears flat on her head as
she began softly sobbing.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The next morning was rainy as Ranma walked along with his bookbag slung
over his shoulder, a black umbrella shielding him from the light rain. He
yawned. A good night’s sleep after Dr. Tofu fixed him up had left him
feeling a lot better, but he was still pretty stiff and tired. He shifted
his bag to the hand holding the umbrella and rotated his now free arm,
trying to work out a bit of stiffness in his shoulder. As he was doing so,
he felt a tap on his arm.



“Mornin’, Ranchan,” said Ukyo when Ranma turned around, standing there with
a bright smile on her face, holding an umbrella of her own. She studied him
for a moment, noting the bandage on his cheek. “You okay?  Looks like you
ran into some trouble. Was it that group of girls I saw going up against
you yesterday?”



“Nah, they’re not so bad,” he replied, bragging a little, shifting his bag
back to his other hand as they started walking along together. “I just wish
I knew what was going on with that.”



“Well, maybe I could do something about that.” Ukyo’s smile turned into a
playful grin. “I can be pretty sneaky. Maybe I could find out what’s up.”



Ranma laughed. “I’ll bet you could. No, thanks anyway though. This is my
problem.”



Ukyo shrugged. Even though Ranma didn’t want her help, she was curious
about the matter herself. She walked alongside him in a companionable
silence for a while, enjoying the warm feelings he awoke inside her just by
his nearness. She wondered if what she was feeling was love, and she
blushed at that, a shy smile appearing on her face.



Even though it was raining, nothing seemed able to spoil her day now.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The Saotome household was quiet as Nodoka came into the bedroom. Now that
Genma and Ranma were safely off, she could prepare for her own activities
for the day. She slid open the door to the walk-in closet in the master
bedroom and stepped inside, her hand reaching up to tug on a slender chain.
A single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling lit up in response.



Kneeling down, Nodoka reached into her kimono and produced a key on a thin
silver chain she wore around her neck. She slipped it off over her head and
used it to unlock the large trunk she kept in the back of the closet.
Various artifacts of her family’s history and her past days of youth were
reflected in the items and photo albums that could be seen carefully
stacked within it as she opened the lid.



She began carefully removing them from the trunk one by one, starting with
a long, wrapped bundle. She undid the cloth almost reverently, revealing a
sheathed katana, the very same one once wielded by her great-grandfather:
Kenshin Himura. Sliding it a couple of inches from the sheath, she studied
the steel of its reversed blade and recalled that it was time to oil it
again, a task she did monthly without fail.



Re-sheathing the katana and setting it aside, she continued removing items,
pausing at one photo album in particular. With a wistful sort of smile on
her face, she flipped it open and began paging through it, remembering what
once was. Various pictures of herself and Achika as teenaged girls filled
most of the pages. She stopped on one photo of her younger self dressed in
her uniform from St. Hebereke, her younger self flashing a victory sign at
the camera while she hugged a similarly uniformed Achika with one arm and
grinned. How long ago it all seemed sometimes.



Turning the page, Nodoka felt her heart flutter at the sight of the photo
on the next page, of a roguishly handsome young man with a lithe build,
dressed in casual clothing. He was perhaps sixteen or maybe even seventeen
years old, smiling at the camera as he rested a naginata on his shoulder in
a relaxed pose. He stood next to her younger self in the picture, who was
posing with a bokken in hand and looking both fierce and happy. Tears
swelled within Nodoka’s eyes as she gazed at the treasured photograph, and
her fingers gently brushed the edges of it.



No matter how hard she tried, she could not remember his name, and she did
not know who he was. She could not even remember this picture ever being
taken. But looking at it always awoke something buried within her,
something deeper than conscious memories.



She had discovered the photograph in a box of her old things years ago,
while her husband and son were off on their trip. She had kept it in this
album ever since, the only picture she had of this boy, whoever he was. She
had never shown it to anyone else, not even her best friend Achika, for
reasons she wasn’t even sure of.



After several moments spent gazing at it, Nodoka shut the album. She had
more urgent things to do right now than wallow in memories and mysteries
from her youth. Setting the album aside, she reached into the bottom of the
chest and pulled out a small lacquered box. Opening it, she saw a single
book inside the box, no more than a few centimeters thick. It was plainly
bound, without title, and it was wrapped on the outside with what once had
been a white ribbon, now grayed with age, the ends sealed with red wax. Her
family mon was imprinted into the wax, and it had been sealed by her
great-grandfather’s hand.



She carefully put all the other items back into the chest before shutting
the lid. After picking up the small box and the katana, she stood up and
turned off the light as she exited the closet and closed the door. There
was a possibility, albeit a rather small one, that she would not be
returning from her task today, and she had to make sure the book and katana
remained in safe hands, passed down as it had once been passed down to her
before her father’s death.



Nodoka sat at the desk in the bedroom, setting the items down near her
right hand. She pulled out some paper and a pen, and she began to write, a
letter that she hoped Ranma would never have to read.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ryoko was surprised to see her mother in the small training hall behind the
Masaki household when she arrived there for her usual morning workout.
Maybe she would drop by St. Hebereke and let them know she was back in
town. Even though attending classes was dull, she missed her friends a bit,
and it wouldn’t do to let her mother think she was a drop-out. Rain
spattered against the windows, and dark clouds hid the sun as she watched
Achika going through a sword-fighting exercise at a blur, her every motion
as clean and precise as it was lightning-fast. She set her towel down and
waited while her mother flowed through the movements of the Masaki family’s
sword style.



“You’re training pretty early, Mom,” she said in a conversational tone of
voice when her mother had concluded the exercise. “Normally, you don’t get
in here until the afternoon.”



Achika bowed once to the small shrine and turned to face her daughter,
briefly bending over to pick up a water bottle near the edge of the mat.
“Ryoko-chan, come over here and sit down. I think it’s time we had a little
talk, mother to daughter.” She took a drink from the water bottle and
picked up a towel to dab at the perspiration on her face.



Uh-oh, Ryoko thought. But she did as she was told and knelt down in front
of her mother, looking a little nervous. “Uh, so what did you want to talk
about?”



“Ryoko-chan, I’ve been doing some thinking ever since you came home.”
Achika paused and studied her wayward daughter, briefly overlaying the
tough little girl she had once been over the beautiful and strong young
woman now before her and she wondered where she had gone wrong as a mother.
She had tossed and turned for two nights now, her mind caught up in all
kinds of fearsome imaginings about her daughter and this boy she had
brought to their home. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about that
Ryoga boy? Are you and he... involved?”



“Mom!” Ryoko yelped, suddenly blushing brightly. “There’s nothing going on
between me and Ryoga-kun.”



“I’m not stupid, Ryoko-chan,” Achika said a little crossly. “You go off on
one of your training trips, I don’t hear from you for a couple of weeks and
then you show up on our doorstep with some strange boy in tow. What am I
supposed to think, knowing my daughter has been alone with some teenaged
boy out on the road? I was a girl your age once myself. I know what it’s
like when youthful hormones get going.”



Ryoko’s blush deepened. This was not the sort of thing any teenaged
daughter wanted to hear from her mother. “Nothing happened, Mom! We just
did some sparring while we traveled together, and we talked a bit. That’s
all!”



“All right,” said Achika, relenting her tone a little. “But I’ve come to a
conclusion from this event. As your mother, who only has your best
interests at heart, I’ve come to realize it’s high time I arranged a
husband for you. After all, your brother has a fiancée, and he’s a full
year younger than you are.”



Ryoko gaped. She started to sputter a denial when Achika held up her hand.



“Save it,” Achika commanded, motherly steel reappearing in her voice. “My
mind is made up. Now, I’ve spoken with your father, and he agrees with me
that a girl your age should start planning for her future, and part of that
is having an arranged marriage to look forward to.”



“But-” She didn’t want a fiancé.



“I’ve given it a lot of thought about who would be a good candidate for
you, and my best friend Nodoka has a boy who’s only a little younger than
you.”



“But-” He sounded too young.



“He has a fine future ahead of him in the Science Ministry, and he’s at the
top of his class at the Imperial Academy.”



“But-” He sounded like a weakling.



“Nodoka has also been telling me all about his abilities as a martial
artist too. Why, just recently, Master Jun Fan Lee himself even took him on
as an apprentice. Even you should appreciate what that says about his
skills as a fighter.”



The last statement caught Ryoko off-guard. She blinked, unable to even
think of a single rebuttal, not that she had been able to get a word in
edgewise yet.



Achika smiled and pressed her advantage. “Now I know this is quite a shock
to you, Ryoko-chan. I remember how surprised I was when my own mother told
me that I was going to marry your father, but everything worked out for the
best. Marriage is far too important a decision to be entrusted to youthful
lusts and desires, but you really needn’t worry. Nodoka’s son is very
handsome and well-mannered, and I’m just positive you’ll come to love him
in time, as he will you.”



“Now, there are a few other girls already pursuing him, or so Nodoka
confided in me, but she’s told me there aren’t any formal arrangements yet.
I’m confident that you can turn the boy’s head, if you set your mind to
it.” She smiled proudly. “Besides, nothing would please me more than to see
you marrying my oldest and dearest friend’s only son, uniting our two
families together in an honorable marriage.”



Ryoko sighed, realizing she was beaten for the moment, now that her mother
had played the honor card, her weakness. “So, what’s his name?”



“Ranma. His name is Ranma Saotome.” Achika beamed to see that Ryoko
actually seemed to be considering it. She had been anticipating more
resistance, possibly even a physical confrontation with her oftentimes
willful daughter to get her to accept her decision. Achika wasn’t sure
where Ryoko had gotten her stubbornness from, but she was glad that she
didn’t have to deal with it today. “Well, as soon as I talk to Nodoka, we
can arrange for you to meet him.” She strolled out of the training hall and
headed for the house, intending to call her best friend later that morning
and invite her out to lunch to discuss the matter.



“Great,” Ryoko muttered dispiritedly at her mother’s departing back.



Left alone now, Ryoko grumbled and gnashed her teeth a bit as she sat in
the middle of the room and realized her mother had gone off the deep end
over her bringing Ryoga home with her. She thought with a grimace that it
was going to be no use trying to talk her out of it now, as stubborn as the
woman was. She would have left Ryoga by the side of the road somewhere, if
she knew things would turn out like this. Now look what she had to put up
with, being forced to meet (and likely marry) some boy she didn’t know,
with her mother waving the family honor card in her face if she even tried
to balk.



Ryoko rested her chin on her hand, her elbow resting on her bent knee,
mulling gloomily over this latest development in her life, when a stray
thought suddenly occurred to her. She sat up. There was an easy way out of
this, she realized. All she had to do was go find this Ranma guy and
threaten him a bit to get _him_ to be the one to break it off, thereby
preserving the Masaki’s honor.



She decided to take Ryoga with her, which might add to her intimidation
factor, on the pretext that she was helping him find this Ukyo guy he was
hunting for. They could spend the morning on that task, and she could hunt
down Ranma before lunch. At the very least, it would get them both out of
the house and far away from any possible interrogation attempts by her
mother. Luckily, Ryoga still seemed unaware of how the woman felt about his
presence.



Her fist cracked solidly into her other palm, and then Ryoko slowly rubbed
the knuckles. No way was she getting engaged to some guy she didn’t even
know, let alone love. Luckily, all it should take was a little bit of
bullying to scare Ranma off, maybe even some applied force if he really was
good enough to study with a teacher of Master Lee’s high caliber.



Ryoko wasn’t concerned, if it actually came to violence. She had never met
a boy yet she couldn’t beat into the ground in a fight. It seemed a good,
workable plan, nicely simple and straightforward, practically guaranteed to
work.



Ryoko stood up and started her training, already feeling better.



Out in the hallway, a figure silently emerged from the shadows. Ryoga had
been looking for the bathroom when he had gotten lost in the house,
wandering through seemingly endless corridors before ending up in the
downstairs hallway that led to the training hall in the back. When he had
heard Achika coming, he had quickly hidden himself, using a stealth
technique that Ukyo had once taught him when they were younger. He was
pretty pleased with himself that he had finally gotten it to work when he
really needed it to.



While eating meals with the Masaki’s for the past couple of days, Ryoga had
gotten the impression that Ryoko’s mother was bothered by his presence,
although she hadn’t said anything to him. Now he knew why.



While he had been unable to hear the whole conversation between mother and
daughter, having somehow found himself in a broom closet when he had
thought he was drawing nearer to the door to the training hall, he had
heard enough. Poor Ryoko was obviously being forced by her mother into a
marriage that she didn’t want. As her friend, it was up to him to do
something about it.



Turning around, Ryoga began wending his way through the enormous house,
while he thought about how he would help poor Ryoko. Maybe he could offer
to pretend to be her boyfriend?



Then again, maybe it didn’t have to be pretend. She was the first girl he
had ever spent so much time with, and she was really beautiful too. A
glazed look came over his face, and he drifted off into a pleasant fantasy
about the older girl.



In the midst of this fantasy, Ukyo inexplicably appeared in Ryoko’s place,
and Ryoga snapped out of his fantasy with a cold shudder, his heart
suddenly pounding with horror. His hand balled into a tight fist at the
thought of the boy ninja, and he trembled with a sudden rage, smashing his
fist into a nearby oaken wall post, almost shattering it. Even within the
privacy of his own fantasies, that damned Ukyo still haunted him.



The unwanted feelings of intense attraction he felt for the ninja, and the
dark stain they left on his soul, would only be expunged when he faced Ukyo
in combat and defeated him. Maybe when the other boy’s shattered body was
laid out broken and bleeding in front of him, then Ukyo’s spell over him
would finally be ended. He would finally be freed of this dark torment he
felt inside, and the intense shame of feeling attracted to another boy.
Then he would be free to love Ryoko, if she would have him.



In his trek to find the bathroom, Ryoga tramped up and down innumerable
stairs, counting at least six floors in the building, his rage slowly
building to a heavy boil. Luckily, Ryoko’s little brother, Tenchi, he
absently recalled as his name, came across him before he finally lost his
temper at finding himself back at the guest room for the ninth time and
started breaking walls in his frustration. He was certain that the house
was somehow mocking him by shifting its innards around and hiding the
bathroom from him. A proper Hibiki house was only a single floor with few
rooms, one easy to navigate around in, not this multi-level monstrosity.
How did anyone ever find anything in this place?



“Um, can I help you, Hibiki-san?” Tenchi asked uncertainly. This was the
first time his sister had ever brought a boy home, and he was uncertain how
to act around Ryoga. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure how
he felt about his sister having a boyfriend. Ryoko had never dated, as far
as he was aware, so this was totally unknown territory.



Ryoga turned to face him, a pained look on his face from his bladder
feeling like it was going to burst. He struggled to remain calm. “Uh, I’m
having trouble finding the bathroom. Can you help me?”



“Huh?” Tenchi blinked. He pointed to a door directly across the hall from
the guest room Ryoga was staying in. “Uh, it’s in there.”



“Argh!” Ryoga stomped across the hallway and flung the door open, before he
quickly disappeared inside and shut it behind him.



There were a few more bangs and crashes, and then Tenchi saw light come out
from underneath the door. He raised an eyebrow and wondered if Ryoko’s new
boyfriend was slow in the head or something. He shrugged his shoulders.



At least Ryoga’s idiosyncrasy with directions gave him something to tease
his sister about when it came to her relationship with the guy. After all,
she had certainly tormented him enough about his engagement to Rei Hino,
constantly teasing him about when he would finally have the guts to kiss
Rei and asking him when he was going to start doing this and that with his
fiancée. None of which he had done yet. He blushed at the thought, knowing
he wasn’t anywhere near being ready yet to take such bold steps with Rei,
even if they were promised to each other in marriage.



As he headed to get his things for school, Tenchi idly wondered if his
sister was still a virgin, not that he was about to risk life and limb just
to satisfy that curiosity. Ryoko had always been, and still was,
archetypically tomboyish in her attitudes, disdaining activities that most
other girls seemed to like. Until she had shown up with Ryoga, he could not
recall his sister ever spending any time with any boy, outside of fighting
with them, and she had left a very long trail of defeated foes behind her,
ever since he could remember. Nowadays, she mostly fought with the local
delinquent types, like so many of her peers at St. Hebereke were, where she
had earned her nickname as ‘The Demon Ryoko’ from them.



Tenchi was looking forward to teasing his sister about her love life. It
was about time she gave him some ammunition like this.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Yumi eyed her empty restaurant, the last of the morning crowd having
already left for work or other business, leaving her alone to enjoy the
quiet. She bent back and twisted her shoulders from left to right, hearing
a few crackling pops softly reverberating up from her spine. She sighed
with relief.



Working out with Ukyo each morning was proving to be just what she had
needed. In her prime, she had been practically undefeatable, but a year of
easier living had seriously dulled her fighting edge, which was a dangerous
thing. However, sparring with her young niece was gradually honing that
faded edge back to its old level, restoring her back to the powerful
warrior she had once been. That was good.



A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, just before the front door was
slid to one side. Yumi put on her best professional smile, with just the
proper twinkle in her eyes to put a customer at ease. When she saw who it
was, her eyebrow raised slightly.



“Welcome to Yu-chan’s,” she said pleasantly, gazing at the two figures
standing in her doorway. “It’s been a while, Ryoko. Who’s your young
friend?” She smiled archly at the girl.



Ryoko came in with Ryoga in her wake, wondering about the expression on the
older woman’s face. “G’morning, Yumi-sensei.” She glanced back and frowned.
“Hey! Close the door, stupid.”



“Oh! Right. Sorry.” Ryoga hastily slid the door closed, shutting out the
rain. There was a pleasant scent of okonomiyaki permeating the air he could
smell. It reminded him of the times Ukyo had fixed him lunch during his
weekly visits to her grandfather’s place in the mountains. Reminded of
Ukyo, he felt the old rage kindle within him.



Drying her hands on a cloth, Yumi watched the girl. “So, what can I do for
you, Ryoko? How was your training trip?” She slid her gaze over to the boy
with her. He looked angry about something, she noted.



“That’s why I came here this morning, Yumi-sensei.” Ryoko pointed at her
companion. “This is Ryoga Hibiki. He’s looking for a boy that might be
related to you. Maybe a nephew?”



“Do you know where Ukyo Kuonji is?” Ryoga demanded, stomping up to the bar.
“I have to find him!” He was almost choked with equal measures of eagerness
and rage, now that his quest was nearing its end.



Yumi’s gaze narrowed. A typical Hibiki, she mused. She was about to deny
knowing anything about Ukyo when their words finally sank in. They both
thought Ukyo was a boy? This could be entertaining.



“Sure, I know Ukyo,” Yumi said with a smirk, setting her towel down. “He’s
a fine young man. He’s staying with me while he’s in town.”



“Is he here?!” Ryoga’s gaze somehow became even more manic.



Yumi casually picked up her battle spatula from underneath the bar and
whacked him over the head with it. “Calm down, Hibiki-kun,” she said in a
mild tone as he stood there, looking a bit stunned. While her spatula was
looking a little dented, at least the blow seemed to calm him a bit. To the
shocked girl she said, “Ukyo isn’t here right now, Ryoko, but I know where
he is. Both of you make yourselves useful and help me clean up, and I’ll
tell you where you could find him when you’re done. Ukyo’s not too far
away.”



When Ryoga started to bluster out another demand to know where Ukyo was,
Ryoko promptly decked him. While Ryoga picked himself up off the floor, she
bowed to the older woman and said, “Okay, Yumi-sensei.” She then bent down
and whispered to him. “Let’s get to it, Ryoga. The sooner we do this, the
sooner you can find Ukyo.”



Grumbling all the while, Ryoga did as he was bid. But he blamed this latest
indignity on Ukyo. The ninja was going to pay when Ryoga Hibiki finally
caught up to him. Oh yes, how he would pay.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



In the Saotome household, the sound of a telephone ringing broke the
silence. After four rings, the answering machine picked up.



“Hello, you have reached the Saotome household,” came Nodoka’s voice in a
pleasant tone. “There’s no one here to take your call right now, so please
leave us a message. Have a nice day.” There was a pause, and then a beep.



“Nodoka? This is Achika. Please pick up the phone if you’re there. I wanted
to talk to you about something.” There was a pause. “Okay, I guess you
aren’t home. Please call me when you can. Bye.” There was a click heard
from the other end as the call ended.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The rain started letting up while Nodoka waited in one of the sitting rooms
of Kuno Manor. The chair she sat in was comfortable and the surroundings
were pleasant, but they could not seem to ease any of the disquiet she was
feeling in her spirit. It galled her, coming here to the home of her oldest
enemy like some kind of supplicant. Then her hand gently stroked her belly
for a moment, imagining she could feel the child growing within her, and a
soft sigh escaped her. It was for her future child’s sake that she was
doing this, she reminded herself.



After a time, the door opened, and Kenseiko Kuno swept into the room in her
typically grand fashion, looking every inch the noblewoman in her manner.
She was dressed in a magnificent kimono in light green, one obviously made
of the finest silks and laced throughout with heavy gold thread. Her hair
was braided in back and reached down to rest between her shoulder-blades, a
white ribbon wound into the braid. Elegantly coifed hair spears framed her
face in front.



“Saotome-san, it’s so wonderful of you to visit,” Kenseiko said with a
bright smile, but there was a touch of gloating in her gaze and voice. She
sauntered across the short distance that separated them as Nodoka stood and
then she bowed in greeting, taking care to remind Nodoka of their relative
social stations by the brevity of her bow. It pleased her greatly to see
the slight tic that crossed Nodoka’s face at the gesture.



“Thank you for seeing me, Kuno-sama,” said Nodoka, bowing back more deeply
in reply out of politeness, the honorific almost choking her to say.



Kenseiko seated herself gracefully, gesturing for Nodoka to sit as well.
“Please, we can forego the proper formalities when we’re alone. After all,
you and I have known each other for such a long time. Tea?” She snapped her
fingers imperiously and a house servant scuttled in with a tray.



“Uh, thank you,” Nodoka said, bowing again slightly. She doubted that
Kenseiko had poisoned it this time, but old habits died hard.



The servant poured the tea quickly and withdrew from the room, leaving the
two women alone. The storm occasionally tossed a burst of rain at the
glass, but the earlier fury was dying down. Kenseiko sipped at her tea in a
ladylike fashion.



“It’s not poisoned, Nodoka,” Kenseiko said with an arched eyebrow when she
saw that her guest was not drinking and guessing her thoughts. She chuckled
somewhat throatily.



Nodoka took a cautious sip of her tea, realizing she was probably being a
bit silly. There was an odd citrus sweetness to it, and she looked at the
cup suspiciously. Then she glanced at Kenseiko. “What’s in it?”



“It’s flavored with a few drops of condensed pineapple juice,” said
Kenseiko with a sly smile. “Odd, I know. It’s a taste that my husband
acquired when he visited one of our plantations in Hawaii, but I’ve gotten
to like it myself over the past few years.” She continued to sip her tea
calmly.



Nodoka drank her tea, occasionally glancing at the dwindling power of the
storm outside. A Swiss-made grandfather clock sitting in one of the corners
gave off a deep tick-tock sound as the two women sat in silence. She felt
decidedly odd, sitting and drinking tea with a woman she had fought with in
countless brutal battles when she had been a girl. At times, when it was
cold, she still felt a twinge in her left shoulder from the time that
Kenseiko had snapped her collarbone and savagely dislocated that limb.



“So, why have you come to see me, Nodoka?” asked Kenseiko finally, as she
set down her teacup. She studied her old enemy warily, wondering what sort
of devious trick Nodoka had up her sleeve this time. She rested her hands
in her lap, briefly touching her right leg, the one that Nodoka had broken
in two places many years ago, in the last fight they had with each other.
It had been their fiercest, their most savage, and perhaps their most
glorious fight together.



Kenseiko flashed back to battles past with the woman seated before her.
Nodoka had been the one foe in her life who had forced her to stretch her
combat skills farther than she would have ever done on her own, and she
could admit to feeling a grudging sort of gratitude over that. Their mutual
enmity towards each other had somehow forged an abiding bond between them.
Thinking on it further, Kenseiko was startled to suddenly realize that she
felt much closer to Nodoka because of that bond than she did with any of
her peers among the nobility, as if she and her hated nemesis shared a
perverse form of deep friendship. But that was a ridiculous thought.



Nodoka set her teacup down, steeling herself inside as she locked gazes
with Kenseiko. “I have come to ask for-” Then she paused, looking for the
right word, feeling the weight of her samurai ancestry upon her, calling
out to her to engage her enemy once again in glorious combat and crush her.
“I have come to ask you for a reprieve from fighting with you.” Nodoka
nibbled her lower lip for a moment, pained at her vulnerability as she saw
Kenseiko studying her with a rather malicious glint in her eyes.



“I see,” Kenseiko said finally. Then she sighed, losing most of her usual
imperious attitude and feeling an unfamiliar concern towards her old
nemesis that surprised her greatly. “What did that doctor tell you?”



“That I’m pregnant.” Nodoka did not take her eyes off of Kenseiko, as the
two women gazed at each other warily.



“You’re certain?”



“Yes.”



“Damn you, Nodoka,” Kenseiko suddenly whispered, looking away, feeling an
odd mixture of emotions swirling inside her. “I finally receive the chance
to pay you back, to deal to you the first of many such defeats I had
planned for you, and then you pull something like this.”



“Pull something?” growled Nodoka, standing up suddenly. “How dare you say
that to me! You think I planned this?”



Kenseiko sprang to her feet, grabbing Nodoka roughly by the front of her
kimono. “This is exactly the sort of underhanded surprise you used to pull
on me when we were younger, whenever I managed to obtain any kind of
advantage over you!”



“Like you ever really had any chance to beat me,” sneered Nodoka, her hands
grabbing the front of Kenseiko’s kimono in reply. “The only time you ever
came close was when you made me fight that stupid duel with you when I was
three days sick with the flu! And I still won!”



Kenseiko growled back, “You bitch.” She tightened her grip in Nodoka’s
clothing, her fingers whitening. A blazing fury began filling her.



“Same to you!” Nodoka snapped, finally losing her ladylike demeanor in the
sudden rage which possessed her. How could she have ever thought to try and
make peace with this creature? “You were a bane to me then, and you’re a
bane to me now! I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate you! Thank the
gods your daughter is nothing like you!”



Kenseiko immediately retorted, “You leave Kodachi out of this! She’s a far
better girl than that whelp you call a son deserves!” She pulled Nodoka in
closer, until they were nearly touching nose to nose. “He should count
himself fortunate to be marrying her. Once he becomes a Kuno, I’ll teach
him how to be a proper nobleman, despite the handicap he has of having
_your_ blood in his veins.”



“You think I’m going to give up my only son to you?” Nodoka’s eyes narrowed
in her wrath. “If your daughter’s anything like the spoiled brat you were
at that age, my son would be better off without her!”



Clothing began to tear as the two women suddenly started struggling
fiercely with each other, both of them far too angry now to employ any
proper combat techniques. With a sudden shift of weight, the snarling pair
went tumbling over one of the couches, knocking it over in a flurry of
flailing limbs. Nodoka’s kimono-covered elbow was briefly seen over the
couch as she cocked her fist back for the first punch.



For the next several minutes, the only sounds in the room were those of
fists striking hard against flesh and loudly-grunted curses as the two
women grappled and pummeled at each other in their savage fury, rolling
around the floor of the room. The pair exchanged brutal blow after brutal
blow as they raged against each other, struggling with each other fiercely.
But, after a time, it slowly began winding down as their emotional frenzies
finally expended themselves against each other, and then it abruptly
stopped.



A hand slowly rose up over the back of one couch, and then a rather
disheveled-looking Nodoka appeared, a thin trickle of blood trailing from
her mouth, and her nose looking somewhat swollen and maybe a bit crooked.
One of the arms of her kimono had been torn clean off. She swallowed the
coppery taste that was welling up in her mouth from her split lip and
probed gingerly at her teeth with her tongue.



A few moments later, an equally disheveled-looking Kenseiko slowly arose
next to her, her right hand cautiously rubbing at her jaw as if to make
sure it was still connected. The area around her right eye was pretty
severely bruised, promising a very colorful result, and her once-fine
kimono was tattered and torn. She looked at her old enemy, her battered
face neutral in its expression.



“You still throw a pretty good punch for a woman your age, Nodoka,”
Kenseiko admitted with a grudging look. She tongued at her teeth, grimacing
when she found a molar that seemed a little loose. She grinned suddenly.
“Seemed like old times, didn’t it?”



“Yes, it did,” Nodoka replied thoughtfully. “You still have a pretty solid
right yourself, Kenseiko.” There was a pause as Nodoka looked at the other
woman. “So, do I get that reprieve until I have my baby, or do we go
another few rounds with each other first?”



Both women suddenly started to laugh, beginning with a chuckle, and then
finally exploding into full-blown laughter.



“OH HOHOHOHO!” Kenseiko’s ringing, demented-sounding laughter mixed with
Nodoka’s more demure ones, and the two of them kept laughing for a brief
time. Kenseiko was the first to stop, feeling pain flaring up from a deep
bruise on her ribs, courtesy of Nodoka’s fist early on in their struggle.
She suddenly put a companionable arm around the other woman for a moment.



“You can’t imagine how long it’s been since I could cut loose like that,
Nodoka,” said Kenseiko with a conspiratorial look. “I missed it so much.”



“I know what you mean.” Nodoka dabbed at her face with a handkerchief,
grimacing when it came away bloody. “After getting married and having our
own families, we both turned into our mothers, didn’t we?”



“Now _that_ is a frightening thought.” Kenseiko looked a bit pensive,
remembering what her own mother had been like. Very gingerly, she moved
away from Nodoka and headed to the front of the couch they had ended up
behind. She plopped down into it, sighing with relief. “But I suppose
you’re right.” She waved a hand grandly. “I’m going to give you that
reprieve you asked for, Nodoka, but only on one condition.”



“Condition?” Nodoka asked suspiciously, still leaning over the back of the
couch as she continued trying to catch her breath. “What sort of condition?”



“If you have a son, then Ranma will join the Kuno family register. But if
you have a daughter, he’ll stay a Saotome and Kodachi will join the Saotome
family register.” Kenseiko filled her teacup and took a large drink,
swishing the liquid around in her mouth a bit before swallowing it. It
helped dull the pain in her jaw a little. “I also hope that you’ll continue
to visit me from time to time.” She smiled. “I promise a much less
strenuous encounter next time.”



Nodoka blinked in surprise. “Did I miss something somewhere?”



Kenseiko chuckled and said, “Believe it or not, I realized something while
the two of us were down there on the floor trading blows like we once did
so often years ago, how much I missed those carefree days of our youth,
Nodoka. With you, I can just be Kenseiko again, instead of Lady Kuno.” She
studied the leaves in her teacup, and her gaze hardened. “Anyway, that’s
the deal. Take it or leave it.”



Nodoka laid her hand on Kenseiko’s shoulder, and she wasn’t sure who was
more shocked of the two of them. “I accept.”



Kenseiko turned her head and met Nodoka’s gaze levelly. “Excellent. Mind
you, I’m only giving you this reprieve until you’ve given birth and had
some time to recover and prepare yourself. Don’t take this as an offer of
friendship. It’s not. And I won’t go so easy on you in our next fight.”



“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Nodoka with a wolfish smile, her
hand moving to gently stroke at her belly. Everything is going to be all
right now, little one, she thought.



Kenseiko chuckled, and then both women started to laugh out loud again.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“I don’t suppose you’re willing to tell me how you got those bruises?”



Ranma remained silent as Master Lee studied him, the pigtailed boy catching
his breath after sparring for a while with his new master. The two of them
were on one side of the gymnasium area, as it was raining outside. He could
see Nabiki and Kodachi sparring fiercely on the other side of the room,
under the watchful guidance of Coach Fujinami. They looked like they were
going at it with their usual vigor, although Nabiki seemed a little slower
today, possibly due to lingering effects of her injuries from last night.



As much as he wished to, Ranma could not meet the man’s gaze. He still felt
shame over losing to Kinnosuke on top of losing to Nabiki. He heard a sigh
from the older man.



“Well, since you appear a bit too injured to spar any more with me today,”
Master Lee said, sitting down in front of the pigtailed boy on the mat. “We
will talk instead.” There was a pause. “Ranma, look at me.”



Ranma looked up. If this had been Genma, not his real father but the other
one, he would have seen disappointment on the man’s face over his losing to
Nabiki. Thinking on it with regret, he was depressed at how his
counterparts in those other two worlds always seemed to find a way to win
their fights in the end. But he had lost two important fights in only a few
days.



However, when he looked up, he saw that Master Lee did not seem to be
disappointed. Instead, the man appeared thoughtful.



“Ranma, let’s start with a basic question, from master to disciple. Do you
know why I chose to train you instead of Nabiki Tendo?” Master Lee looked
solemnly at the pigtailed boy and waited for an answer.



Ranma was a bit taken aback by the question. He shook his head. “Not
really, Lee-sensei. Why did you?”



“I’m the one asking the questions here,” the older man said, still looking
at him thoughtfully. “Do you consider me to be a true martial arts master?”



“Of course!”



“Then tell me what you define as mastery of the martial arts.”



Ranma instinctively stated the answer Pop had taught him a long time ago.
Actually, to one of his analogs. “A martial artist is someone who knows how
to fight well, who has trained his body and spirit for combat and proves it
by defeating all foes.”



Master Lee shook his head. “That’s not truly mastering the martial arts,
Ranma. That answer means someone is a great fighter, yes. But to perfect
the forms, to memorize the lore, or even to be the best fighter around,
none of that shows a mastery of the martial arts. No, to be a true master
of the martial arts is to master oneself. Everything else is just window
dressing.”



“But you fought in the Arena,” Ranma interjected. He paused for a brief
moment, regretting his outburst. He looked at Master Lee. “I mean, you
showed the world that your martial arts skills were the strongest, that you
were the best.”



Master Lee smiled and chuckled slightly. “Yes, I fought in the Arena. I was
young like you once and eager to prove myself. I faced many great fighters
in that crucible of combat, and I learned a great many techniques. But
simply defeating others does not make one a martial arts master, Ranma. A
true master of the martial arts is determined by what’s in here.” He poked
Ranma in the chest with a forefinger. “And in here.” He tapped Ranma’s
forehead. “It’s not by how skillfully one wields their fists or feet, or
even what special techniques are known.”



“This is why I chose you over Nabiki, Ranma,” Master Lee said calmly. “You
are both surprisingly similar in many ways, as if somehow formed from the
same mold, but there is... an arrogance in Nabiki Tendo, an arrogance you
don’t seem to share, at least not to the same degree. While I have no
doubts at all that her physical skills are currently superior to yours, and
may continue to remain better than yours if she is diligent in her
training, I find myself wondering if she truly has the potential to be
anything more than merely a great fighter, like I think you can.”



Ranma tried not to, but he winced a bit at Master Lee’s comparison of his
fighting skills to Nabiki’s. It took him a moment to pick up on the rest of
what the man had said.



“As to your bruises, you don’t have to tell me how you received them.”
Master Lee paused and glanced over at Nabiki and Kodachi’s sparring match,
noting how Nabiki was dominating the contest, a confident smirk on her
face. He frowned at the sight. Someday he would ask Ranma how he and Nabiki
knew this Anything-Goes style, an unfamiliar school of Kempo to him,
learning of its name from Fuyutsuki, but for now he would leave the matter
alone. “I imagine Nabiki wasn’t too happy with you over my choice,” he said
mildly.



“Nabiki didn’t do this to me,” Ranma stated emphatically, looking up,
honestly surprised at the suggestion.



Master Lee looked back at him, meeting his gaze and then nodding. “I
believe you, Ranma. However, as your new master, it doesn’t look good upon
me to see you all beaten up like this.” He leaned forward. “So I’ll make
you a promise. I’ll train your physical skills as far as you’re willing to
take them, so that few, if any, would be able to do something like this to
you ever again.” There was a pause. “But the rest of it will be up to you.”



“I can make you a great fighter, Ranma, if that is all you wish to be.
However, I believe you can be more, to someday truly master the martial
arts, and I can help you. But only you can make that choice. Only you can
walk that path. No one else can do it for you. And that path will not be
easy.”



“I understand, Lee-sensei,” Ranma said sincerely. He was suddenly aware
that he was in for a much different experience than his analogs had
learning from the likes of Happosai, Cologne, or Pop. He bowed to the man.
“Thank you.”



Master Lee grunted and nodded, an inscrutable look on his face. “Don’t
thank me yet. Let’s see how far you can walk the path first, my young
disciple.”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“Well? What do you think?” asked Ukyo, gazing at Ranma expectantly as he
ate the lunch she had prepared for him.



Ranma swallowed. “It’s good,” he said with a grin.



Ukyo grinned back, pleased to see Ranma enjoying her cooking. She had been
making a sincere effort to improve her okonomiyaki skills with her aunt’s
assistance, and it looked like her efforts were paying off. She started
grilling him up another one on her portable unit, commandeering a desk near
theirs to use in preparing lunch for him, since it was too cold and rainy
to eat outside.



Ranma ate the next one that Ukyo made him as quickly as he had consumed the
first, his body needing to refuel. He was still recovering his strength,
and Ukyo’s delicious cooking helped a lot. After yesterday’s ordeal, not to
mention the one he faced that morning when he arrived on campus, he felt
worn. His morning training session with Master Lee had ended up as another
grueling affair as well and there was still the afternoon left to face.



He had barely made it through the gauntlet of girls today. They might have
taken him down at the end, but Ukyo had interfered. While he was grateful
to her for her assistance, it bothered his pride that she had helped him.
He didn’t feel he should need anyone else’s help where a fight was
involved, but he really needed to deal with that particular situation
before it turned into something more dangerous. After all, they could start
showing up at his house or something.



At their respective desks in the class, Yuka and Gosunkugi repeated their
glaring at Ranma and Ukyo. Yuka was growing convinced that she was going to
have to do something drastic to save Ukyo from Ranma’s perverted interest
in the ninja, unable to miss the signs of attraction between the two boys.
Gosunkugi was simply busy making plans for the pigtailed boy’s destruction.



Tsubasa Kurenai quietly ate her lunch and casually observed Ukyo, still
uncertain why the ninja boy was here. As far as she knew, the Kuonji and
Hibiki clans had already destroyed the last of the tainted Goju that the
Shogun of the Dark had subverted over to his cause, the last one of them
dying years ago in the final, ill-fated attack on the Kuonjis. Was Ukyo
here seeking out the few Untainted remnants of the once-proud Goju clan
that remained?



That suspicion didn’t feel right to Tsubasa. The Hibikis were stupid brutes
who got lost crossing a street and bore grudges that could linger for
years, so that sort of delayed retribution could be expected of one of
them. But the Kuonjis were more reasonable. And there was a treaty still in
place, wasn’t there? She took another bite of food and continued to observe
Ukyo.



The two tattoos on her lower back twisted slightly under her skin as she
mused. One enabled her to manipulate shadows into becoming a vast arsenal
of weapons and the second enabled her to shape shift into other humanoid
forms. Her current shape was the only one she had practiced regularly, the
only one she could hold all day before reverting back to her true male form.



Tsubasa was grateful to her parents for escaping from the Gojus' fate
before Shadowlaw could imprint them with the third tattoo, one which would
have enabled them to transform into anything but would have given their
souls to the Shogun, becoming little more than faceless puppets of his
will. Tsubasa shivered at the thought of that, saddened to think of the
men, women and even children that the Shogun had forced into slavery. Only
a handful of the Untainted remained, like her family. She bit into more of
her lunch, pondering the mystery of Ukyo.



Many of the other girls in the class also eyed the pair, an occasional sigh
heard. Sayuri was one of those girls, but not for the same reason as Yuki
was, as she watched her friend and sipped at her juice. She occasionally
rolled her eyes. Yuka had been like this for the past few days, ever since
Ukyo started attending classes at the Academy.



“Isn’t he wonderful?” Yuka sighed, gazing at Ukyo.



“Yeah, wonderful.” Sayuri’s tone was matter of fact. She eyed the lunch in
front of her companion, seeing it was barely touched. “You going to eat
that omelet?”



Yuka absently slid the box over to her friend and sighed again, gazing
raptly at Ukyo.



Sayuri just shook her head and started eating from both lunches. First
Tendo-senpai, her idol among the upperclassmen, started losing her
previously unshakable cool over Ranma Saotome weeks ago, and now even her
best friend Yuka was practically drooling over the newest addition to the
campus. With Yuka uncommunicative, it was looking like another boring lunch
period.



Standing on the grounds of the Imperial Academy next to Ryoko, Ryoga gazed
up at the windows of the main building. After spending the morning cleaning
the Yu-chan, his quest was finally drawing to an end.



The rain came to a stop while they stood there, so he folded up his
reinforced bamboo umbrella and was about to slip it back into the straps on
his pack when he saw a familiar visage through one of the upper windows.
Rage contorted his features when he saw that laughing face and he charged
in the direction of the building and then leaped high into the air, his
fury propelling him across the distance that separated him from his target.



Ryoko blinked when Ryoga suddenly sprinted off and then leaped, taking his
umbrella in both hands, his mouth opening to scream.



Ranma was about to take another bite of his lunch when he heard a voice
coming through the window, one that he had never expected to hear in this
life.



“UKYO KUONJI! PREPARE TO DIE!”



Time seemed to slow for Ranma as he took a single glance at the human
missile heading straight for them. Without thinking, he grabbed hold of
Ukyo and leaped for safety. An instant later, it was like a bomb went off
as the window and that section of wall shattered inward, the concrete and
steel ripping aside as an enraged Ryoga Hibiki plowed through it, his red
parasol umbrella in hand and leading the way.



Tsubasa gaped at the sight of Ryoga. She shook her head slowly and got up
from her desk, moving towards the door. First a Kuonji, and now this? She
studied the new arrival intently as she tried to leave the room amidst the
sudden press of bodies. Was the boy a Hibiki? He certainly seemed to be
powerful enough to be one.



Kodachi paused in eating her lunch, feeling the entire room suddenly shake
and hearing a nearby rumbling. She had chosen to avoid Ranma today, still
feeling miffed at him over his recent actions towards her. So she had been
enjoying a quiet lunch with some of her new classmates, in the classroom
right next door to the one that Ranma was in.



Several cadets immediately rushed for the windows, trying to see outside. A
flurry of conjectures began being quickly exchanged.



One of the girls who had stuck her head out one open window suddenly said,
“Hey, some kind of martial artist guy just attacked the next class. I can
just see him standing there in this big hole in the wall.”



“But we’re on the third floor!” another girl said in disbelief.



Kodachi was the first one out the door, leading the charge to see what was
happening in the next classroom.



Nabiki paused in eating her lunch when the building suddenly shook,
interrupting her discussion with Yohko on the matter of the Kashuoh heir,
as well as the shopping excursion they would be doing that weekend. She
glanced at the young Devil Hunter, and both of them looked around. It had
sounded like an explosion of some kind had occurred, coming from the floor
above them. Several cadets were now rushing to the windows, to try and see
what was wrong.



“Hey, some girl dressed like a martial artist of some kind just leaped up
to a big hole in one of the upstairs classrooms,” one of the male cadets
suddenly said. “And she’s a babe.”



Nabiki’s first thought was of Ranma. She hastened out of her seat and
leaped out the window past a startled Kyosuke, grabbing hold of the upper
frame and agilely swinging herself up to the next level while her fellow
classmates gaped at the casually acrobatic move.



Ryoga Hibiki paused as bits and pieces of glass and concrete continued to
rain down behind him, his umbrella resting in the center of a wide, rounded
depression in the concrete floor of the room. Fortunately for the class, no
one had been sitting right where he made his entrance. He stood up and
looked around for Ukyo, catching sight of the ninja boy held by some guy
with a pigtail who was wearing a blue uniform. His gaze narrowed darkly at
the protective way the boy was holding Ukyo.



In the back of the classroom, Minami and Gosunkugi watched the tableau with
interest, both of them secretly hoping that Ranma was about to be beaten up
by the intruder but unaware that they shared the same desire on that front.
Like other cadets, they both began moving away from what was looking like a
fight about to begin. There was an odd feeling of importance to the scene
that Minami could sense, like a momentary concentration of those strange
energies she had been sensing on campus since arriving for her first day.



Heedless of Ryoga’s attention falling on him, Ranma quickly asked Ukyo,
“Are you all right, Ucchan?”



“I-I’m fine,” she replied. “I just had the wind knocked out of me a bit
when you grabbed me.” She smiled at him. “Nice save, Ranchan.”



“Wow!” said an unfamiliar voice from the window, followed up by a brief
whistle, as Ryoko made her appearance, having leaped up to the new opening
in the wall. “I gotta say, you really know how to make an entrance,
Hibiki-kun.”



Ranma glanced back at Ryoga and back at Ukyo. “You two, uh, know each
other?”



“He’s a friend of mine,” Ukyo replied, looking confused. “But I don’t know
why he’s so angry.”



Ranma glanced back at Ryoga again and wondered why his life was turning
into some twisted reflection of the life his analogs lived. Now Ryoga had
shown up. But why was he hunting Ukyo? It had better not be over some
stupid bread, he thought. This was all getting too weird and too
coincidental for him. He started to move when Ryoga suddenly gave out a
growl and charged to the attack.



“How dare you ruin my life, Ukyo! Die!” He leaped at the ninja, and the two
on the ground rolled apart as Ryoga brought his umbrella down on the area
they had just occupied, deeply cracking the concrete floor. The boy with
the pigtail came leaping at him, and Ryoga batted him aside without a
second thought and continued charging towards Ukyo, his current focus. “I’m
going to kill you!”



Whoa! He’s fast! Even though he knew he wasn’t in his best shape at the
moment, after what had happened last night and this morning, he just
couldn’t stand by and let Ryoga beat Ukyo to a pulp. But he had been caught
off-guard by Ryoga’s speed and skill, and the umbrella slammed him in a
solid blow across his midsection. His trajectory carried him towards the
new opening in the wall, where he came to an abrupt stop when he suddenly
impacted headfirst into Ryoko’s chest, burying his face in between her
breasts. The sheer force of the collision stunned him and actually knocked
her back half a step.



Ukyo met Ryoga’s charge head on as cadets started evacuating from the
classroom, and the two came together as his umbrella strike was blocked
between her crossed and upraised arms. While she was shoved back a ways
from Ryoga’s momentum, her feet skidding on the floor, she managed to keep
herself upright. The two of them then began a dazzling display of fighting
skill as they clashed, her opponent having a murderous look on his face.



“What the hell’s your problem, Ryoga? What are you doing here? What did I
ever do to you to make you so mad? Is this about that thousand yen I owe
you?” She knew she was at a bit of a disadvantage here, with her battle
spatula currently in her locker, since the Academy had a strict policy
against students coming to class armed.



“I’ll tell you,” Ryoga replied, thrusting his umbrella against past Ukyo’s
evading body, narrowly missing her. She grabbed hold of the umbrella,
trying to wrest it away from him, and both combatants leaned into the brief
test of strength. Ryoga shouted into her face, “You made me like guys!”



Ukyo blinked and looked startled, and so did the few cadets who still
remained in the room. Even those who had been desperately trying to get out
through the door came to an abrupt halt to stare at Ryoga, one among them
being Tsubasa. It was very quiet for a moment.



Just then, Kodachi appeared in the doorway, having struggled to get in past
the flow of cadets streaming out of the impromptu battle zone. She gaped at
the new opening in the wall, and the strange boy glaring at Ukyo, but her
only concern right now was Ranma. Hurriedly, she scanned the rest of the
room looking for her fiancé, deeply concerned for his well-being.



When she saw him with his face buried in the bosom of some strange girl
with weird hair, her concern for him abruptly vanished, and she turned away
with a feminine harrumph. She trudged back to her own classroom, a frown on
her face. He obviously didn’t need her, and she hoped that Ukyo wretch was
severely beaten by that unruly boy, whoever he was.



Ryoko paused for several moments, startled by the boy who had impacted into
her as well as Ryoga’s revelation. She glanced down at the guy with his
face currently stuck between her breasts, and a vein suddenly sprang up in
her forehead and throbbed. She grabbed him by his uniform and hauled him up
to her face, his head coming free from her bosom with a slight popping
sound.



“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she raged at her still somewhat
insensate assailant.



“That sounds like a question I should be asking you,” said Nabiki’s voice
suddenly from her right and just behind her, a hint of menace in it. “Let
Ranma go.”



“Ranma?” Ryoko glanced once at Nabiki and then back to the pigtailed boy
she was holding. “Are you Ranma Saotome?”



Ranma blinked, startled by the question as he dangled in the strange girl’s
grasp. “Uh, yes?”



Ryoko paused, ignoring the furious melee currently going on over on the far
side of the room. She studied him for a moment, and she suddenly realized
he was pretty cute. She smiled, for the moment forgetting her original
reason for coming here was to frighten him off, baring her fangs a little
in the process.



“Hey! I told you to let him go!” demanded Nabiki, interrupting the brief
tableau when she grabbed Ryoko by the wrist, feeling the muscles bunched in
the other girl’s forearm. She must be another Hibiki, she decided, noting
the fangs. “Let him go _now_, Goblin Girl!”



Ryoko paused, but she did not release her grip on Ranma. “What did you call
me?” she asked, her tone turning dangerous. She shot Nabiki a very sharp
look. “What the hell did you just call me?”



“With those fangs and that weird hair color, I called you a goblin, Goblin
Girl,” Nabiki replied with a fierce grin. “Now let Ranma go. If you want a
fight, face me.” Even though she was still injured, she knew she was in
better shape for a battle than he was.



“Um, girls?” Ranma ventured, but both of them were now ignoring him, their
attention focused on each other.



Ryoko absently released Ranma, and he decided to get out of the way and let
Nabiki handle this one herself.



“What’s your name?” Ryoko asked, taking a moment to crack her knuckles
dramatically before assuming an easy stance, ready for anything. She was
looking forward to utterly pulverizing the annoying girl who had dared to
mouth off to her like that. She quickly estimated that it would take maybe
five seconds at most, but that was probably being pretty generous.



“Nabiki Tendo. What’s yours?” Nabiki assumed a more nonchalant pose,
visibly unimpressed by the other girl, even if she was a Hibiki. It was a
common ploy of an Anything-Goes stylist, used to distract an enemy and make
them lose focus by insulting them while waiting for them to make the first
move.



“Ryoko. Ryoko Masaki.” She gave Nabiki a nasty grin. “Maybe you’ve heard of
me? At St. Hebereke, they call me Ryoko the Demon.”



Nabiki seemed to consider it and then she shook her head. “Hmm. Can’t say
that I have.” Although St. Hebereke was familiar to her, a bastion of
violent delinquents in the region, the other girl’s name was not.



“Then let me show you why I’m called that,” Ryoko growled, her fury at
Nabiki growing by leaps and bounds from the other girl’s arrogance. She
started to take a step forward.



Meanwhile, Ukyo managed to catch Ryoga in a solid blow across his chest
with a roundhouse kick, and he flew towards the window, blasting aside a
few desks in his path and narrowly missing Ranma. Ryoga impacted hard into
Ryoko, and the pair went sailing out the window. The ninja took that
opportunity to leap out the door, intent on retrieving her spatula from her
locker.



Nabiki spotted Ukyo’s abrupt departure, and she went after the other girl,
looking for answers. Just what trouble had the cross-dressing hick brought
with her?



Ranma took a moment to catch his breath. His ribs were aching, and he knew
he was pushing his still healing body too hard. He tried to focus past the
pain as he looked around for Ukyo. He didn’t see her, and Nabiki was gone
as well.



As he fell, Ryoga flipped himself into a landing position and absorbed the
impact in his knees. Next to him, Ryoko did the same. He sprang back
immediately, landing lightly amidst the debris of his initial arrival. Ukyo
wasn’t around, but the pigtailed boy was, the one who had tried to stop him
from taking his righteous revenge on the ninja.



“You!” Ryoga snarled, catching Ranma by the front of his school uniform and
hauling him close. “Where’s Ukyo?” He shook him to emphasize his point,
rattling the pigtailed boy’s teeth a bit. “Tell me!”



“Hey, let Ranma go, Ryoga.” Ryoko laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t want
you to hurt him. He doesn’t have anything to do with your feud with Ukyo.”



Several emotions went through Ryoga at that moment: surprise and joy that
Ryoko was touching him, but then ending with misery and jealousy as her
words sank in. With an effort, he released his grip on Ranma’s uniform
jacket. Ryoga glared menacingly at the pigtailed boy, his emotions seething
darkly within him.



Ranma was startled by the look, but familiar responses within him took
over. He met Ryoga’s gaze, and the two locked glares. Tension filled the
air between them like heat lightning.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“Hold it, Kuonji!” Nabiki commanded, grabbing the other girl when she
caught up to her in the hall. “What was all that about back there?”



Ukyo managed to slip free of the grip and straightened the jacket of her
male uniform. “I really don’t know, Tendo-senpai,” she said, adding the
honorific a bit grudgingly. “But I need to get my spatula, if you don’t
mind.” Without waiting for a response, she headed towards the stairs.



“I think I do mind.” Nabiki leaped in front of Ukyo. “Just what is Ryoga’s
problem with you?” She then blinked, noting the masculine look that Ukyo
was sporting, wearing male clothing and with her breasts bound down, and
suddenly remembering Ryoga’s words. “Oh, so that’s it.”  She then started
to chuckle. “You’re such an idiot, Kuonji.”



“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Ukyo faced the Tendo girl, her
hands balling into fists. “If you want a fight, you’re going to have to
wait your turn. I’ve gotta deal with that jackass Ryoga first, then you’re
more than welcome to take a shot. I’ve got no problem with knocking you on
your ass once I’m finished dealing with him.” She brushed past the other
girl and continued stomping towards the stairs, her look grim.



Nabiki suddenly smirked behind Ukyo and shook her head, already considering
possible angles to turn this situation to her advantage.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“I’ve got no time for this,” Ryoga suddenly announced, breaking off his
staring contest with Ranma, trying to focus past the anger he felt at
Ryoko’s sudden change of heart. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t
really care. I’m just looking to finish things with Ukyo.” He shoved Ranma
aside abruptly and charged out of the room. “Where the hell are you,
Kuonji, you coward? I’m going to kill you!”



Ryoko sighed. She gave Ranma a shrug and headed out after Ryoga.



Left behind, Ranma looked around at his partially demolished classroom and
wondered aloud. “What the hell just happened?”



After finally retrieving her battle spatula, Ukyo looked around the
building for Ryoga. With his usual bellowing that shouldn’t have taken her
very long, but it had been a little while since she last heard his voice in
the halls. Where could he have disappeared to?



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“WHERE THE HELL AM I NOW?”



Ryoga stood on a street corner somewhere in the Nerima area and looked
around for some sign that was even vaguely familiar. Passersby eyed him,
and his rage just seemed to intensify at the interest they paid him. With a
growl, after putting his fist through a nearby stone wall, he began
stomping down the street, certain that the campus was around here somewhere.



“DAMN YOU, KUONJI! JUST WAIT UNTIL I FIND YOU!”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ryoko called her house from a payphone and left a brief message on the
answering machine before starting her search for Ryoga. He had left a
pretty clear path of destruction after leaving the Academy, such as holes
in walls and other such destruction of property. But she had lost the trail
quickly after he left the campus for some reason and stopped destroying
things. Could he really have gotten lost that easily?



Well, it shouldn’t take her too long to find him. After hanging up the
telephone, she headed off, looking for the wayward Hibiki boy. In the back
of her mind, Nabiki’s taunting voice was heard, and she frowned, feeling
anger simmering within her.



“Nabiki Tendo,” she muttered, her hand tightening into a fist. “When I see
you again, I’ll show you why nobody gets away with talking to me like that.
Nobody calls me names.”



With that, she began her search for Ryoga Hibiki.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



After classes were over for the day, Ranma walked Ukyo home.



“Crazy day, huh?”



Ranma glanced at Ukyo, walking along with her battle spatula slung over her
shoulder. He nodded and said, “Yeah, but I’m kinda getting used to them.”



“Oh?” Ukyo looked over at him and smiled.



Ranma shrugged. “So how long have you known Ry- uh, that Hibiki guy?”



“Since we were both little kids,” Ukyo said as they continued walking
alongside each other. Her look was thoughtful and maybe a little bit sad.
“I thought we were pretty good friends, but I guess I must’ve done
something to make him hate girls.”



Ranma blinked, realizing he had been just about to put his foot in his
mouth. Of course Ryoga must know Ukyo was really a girl. A guy would have
to be really stupid to not notice, not after so many years, even if she did
dress and act like a guy. He filed that piece of info away.



“Friends don’t usually try to beat each other up,” he observed. “Well, not
seriously, at least. Sparring can be fun.”



“Yeah.” Ukyo grinned at him. “You wanna spar with me sometime?”



“Sure,” he said, grinning back. “Sounds like fun. How about in a few days?
I ran into some trouble last night, and I need to heal up a bit first. But
once I do, I’d love to spar. How about this Saturday, after classes? We
could grab dinner afterwards, maybe go ice skating or to a movie. It’ll be
my treat.”



Ukyo’s grin grew wider. She loved ice skating. “It’s a date, Ranchan.” She
sidled up to him and said, “Mind you, I won’t go easy on you. Hope that
doesn’t bother you.”



“Nah,” Ranma said, shaking his head, feeling glad that things were so
comfortable with Ukyo, unlike how hard it was with Nabiki and Kodachi. “I’m
looking forward to it.”



They arrived in front of the Yu-chan, and the early dinner crowd was
already going in. Ukyo waved goodbye to Ranma and ran in to help her aunt
out. Ranma watched her go and then he turned around and headed home.



The day had started out kind of rough, but it ended on a pretty good note.
His step was light, and he hoped that this meant he was turning a corner,
and that things would finally start getting better for him.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Touga Kiryuu leaned back, allowing his head to rest against the side of the
hot bath as his tense muscles unwound. Of all his personal rooms in the
Kiryuu Estate (his wing of the mansion being larger than most commoners’
houses) the bath was his second favorite. The first was his bedroom, since
over the course of the last few years he had spent more time there than
anywhere else.



His eyes scanned the room, enjoying the texture of the place. He had never
cared much for Japanese style baths, and had instead opted for something
grander in an ancient Grecian style. Fluted columns and marble were
everywhere. The tub was built flush with the floor, like a pool, and closer
in size to one rather than a standard bathtub. A number of hand-sculpted
statues of exquisite nude men and woman rounded out the decor. Like most
things Touga Kiryuu owned, it defined the term opulent. But when one was
due to inherit control of the fifth largest zaibatsu, there were certain
expectations to uphold. Doing everything in extravagant style was one of
them.



“Hard day, sir? I know how difficult it must be doing nothing.” The

statement was issued in crisp, clear, and very dry, tones.



Touga idly lolled his head to look in the direction of the only other

occupant of the chamber. He was a gaijin, English, specifically. Dry and
wrinkled, as befitted his ninety years, he looked like a piece of leather
than had been left out in the sun to long. Still he retained a full head of
immaculately groomed hair, and stood with posture so stiff Touga wagered
one could have set a greased rubber ball atop his head and it wouldn’t move
a millimeter. His tailored suit was fitting that of his position in the
Kiryuu household: butler. Not a post used often in the Empire, it was seen
as too foreign and there were other jobs that filled the same requirements
and whose names were native to the land. But that was the title Laughlin
insisted upon when he was introduced to others. It had been the name of the
job when he had been hired; it would remain so until the day he died. And
despite the man’s advanced years, Touga would not be surprised if the
wizened butler outlived at least another generation of Kiryuus.



“I was thinking, actually, Laughlin,” Touga answered. “I need the

measurements of a woman.”



“Shall I take them while she’s riding your baloney pony, sir, or would you
like me to wait until you’re done with her?”



“Actually, she hasn’t shared my bed yet.”



“A girl you haven’t slept with? I didn’t think there were any of those

left.”



The corners of Touga’s mouth curled upward slightly. “You’re being

exceptionally impudent today.”



“Indeed. Perhaps it would be best if I was released from my position.” The
withered face betrayed no emotion. Only the voice held its distinguished
tone, despite the sarcasm of the words.



“What would you do with all that time on your hands?”



“Find peace of mind? Allow these ancient bones to have some rest? Not have
to put up with impudent, decadent people that won’t even wash their own
back?” He paused for a moment and then continued. “You’re right, there is
nothing for me, is there?”



Touga laughed slightly. Laughlin’s sharp tongue was one of the reasons he
liked the man whose origins were shrouded in mystery. All anyone really
knew was that when Touga’s legendary grandfather (legendary in both his
business dealings as well as decadence), Maasaki, was a young man, he had
gone to England to strike some sort of huge business deal with the monarchy
there. Rumor had it that just when the deal was about to be finalized,
Maasaki left abruptly, the deal falling through and with only a young man
he had taken on as his butler to show for the journey. Since then the
Kiryuus never had any dealings with England, and the English wanted nothing
to do with the Kiryuus. No one knew exactly what happened, and no one spoke
about it save in hushed tones when they believed none of the Kiryuus were
about.



As to Laughlin, he was an enigma. It was common knowledge around the house
that he was Maasaki’s personal manservant, going everywhere with him and
being so perpetually at his side that people commented something was
missing when he wasn’t present. Touga was also convinced the butler was
every bit as impudent then as he was now, which was probably why his
grandfather had favored him above all others, including most of the family.
>From what Touga understood, Laughlin was probably the only man his
grandfather would have called a friend. Certainly the butler had been
treated far better than any servant Touga had ever heard of. His salary was
the equivalent of a highly paid CEO of their zaibatsu, and upon Maasaki’s
death, Laughlin inherited an

enormous quantity of stock as well as a home and lands in the Hawaiian

islands.



The salary and inheritance had been a cause of consternation among the

Kiryuus but Maasaki was a force no one ever crossed, even in death. Those
that tried never lasted long. He had made the Kiryuus into the second most
powerful zaibatsu in the Empire when he was alive and had personally held
the Emperor’s ear. Having no proper successor was why the Kiryuu fortunes
and prominence had slid slowly over the last decade. No one had ever
replaced the old man. However, Touga would change all that, once he was
given control of the family. Everyone agreed he inherited Maasaki’s wits
(and rather decadent tastes when it came to women), and it had been decided
internally that he would be groomed to be the successor of the family. Such
unanimity in a succession was nearly unheard of. There were always power
struggles within the nobility for the right to control the family fortunes
when there was no heir apparent, but the Kiryuus agreed something had to be
done to prevent the downward spiral which hurt all, and it was likewise

decided Touga would be their best chance for salvation. Oh, the members of
the family would court his personal favor, but none would challenge his
rule.



Shortly after the matter had been settled, Touga decided he wanted Laughlin
to fulfill the same position he had when Maasaki had been alive. No other
member of the family could stand the man’s scathing tongue, and he had been
left to run the household instead of personally taking care of anyone.
Despite his age and surly nature, he ran the vast Kiryuu Estate like no
other. Touga once tested Laughlin’s skill by giving him a list of a hundred
things he wanted done by the end of the day. Within an hour everything had
been completed. It was after accomplishing that remarkable feat, and far
exceeding Touga’s expectations, that he informed Laughlin he wanted him as
his personal butler. The old man simply gave a flat, “Oh, goody,” and
promoted his second-in-command to take over the house. Kazuya was a good
man, but never managed things as well as Laughlin could.



Oh, Laughlin could retire at any time, but Touga was fairly certain he

enjoyed being scathing to those that were supposedly his betters far more
than any enjoyment retirement could give.



“I find I fancy this girl,” Touga explained at last. All secrets were safe
with Laughlin. He wouldn’t even betray any of Maasaki’s to Touga, no matter
how hard he tried to cajole the butler about some of the secrets only he
knew regarding Touga’s grandfather. “I mean I really like her. There’s
something intangible about Nabiki that draws me to her like no other I’ve
ever met.”



“Ah, a flavor of the month, then. I see. Given up on the Tenjou and

Arisugawa girls, have you? Or are you planning on inviting them in a

four-way?”



Touga laughed at the imagery. “I think not. Juri is... let’s just say she’s
beyond even my impressive means. As to Utena, well, she would be a rather
pleasant girl, but not really someone I would want to keep around for very
long. Nabiki’s different, though. Very different. She’s intelligent and
clever, I could tell from the first time I laid eyes on her. She’s someone
with a quick wit, and not lacking courage, even in the face of danger. I
did a background check. She’s not nobility, but her family is well
connected. A very interesting girl indeed.”



It was while he was marking some of Nabiki’s more intriguing aspects that
Touga espied something odd about his butler. A rarely seen reaction in a
man that wouldn’t react to a gunshot wound. “What is it?”



“What is what, sir?” Laughlin asked.



“Your eyebrow shot up. You only do that when something catches your

interest. Something that you think shouldn’t catch your interest, but did
anyway. On you, it qualifies as an emotional outburst.”



For a moment, it appeared Laughlin would dismiss the accusation. Instead he
said, “For the first time in your vapid little life, you’ve mentioned a
woman’s intelligence before her appearance. It’s quite shocking.”



Touga was about to argue that -he had noted women’s intelligence before
mentioning their looks- then realized he only did so in the company of

others. When he thought of Nabiki, though, it was her mind, not her looks
that came to the forefront. How very... interesting. The security cadet was
affecting him in ways he wasn’t fully aware of. And they had only met
twice, neither being a particularly remarkable experience. Of course,
Nabiki was quite attractive as well. Not with model gorgeous features, like
Juri, but definitely visually appealing.



However, it was that mind that excited him. Even now he was trying to

maneuver things before the dance so that he had the upper hand against his
newest romantic interest. He wondered how she’d react to his present. It
was something of an unusual approach to courtship, this scheming for an
advantage, but they were exceptional people, and needed to do things in
exceptional ways.



In a tired voice, Laughlin said, “I see your periscope has surfaced, sir.
Shall I send one of the bath girls to scrub it free of barnacles while I
acquire the information you desire?”



Touga looked down at the part of his anatomy Laughlin was referring to.

Thoughts of Nabiki had made him feel frisky. “Yes. Send that new girl,
Natsuki.” With her short, almost pageboy haircut, she looked a bit like
Nabiki. If Touga tried hard enough, he could probably envision it was his
true interest that would be taking care of his physical needs. Something
that, with a little skillful manipulating, would become a reality before
overlong.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Laughlin instructed the head of the servants to send the requested girl to
Touga. Natsuki knew what was expected of her, it was one of the reasons she
was hired in the first place. He then continued on to the basement and the
cellars below. It took him but a moment to locate his target.



A man in his late thirties was stocking shelves for some of the more exotic
foods that were needed for the cooks. The Kiryuus’ frequently entertained
guests and prided themselves on being able to serve any dish a person could
request.



Laughlin said, “You there, the nameless stockboy we pay half as much as

myself. The young master wishes to know the measurements of a Nabiki Tendo.
If I need to tell you more than that, you’re not doing your job, and will
be released from your duties.” He bowed and left.



The ‘nameless stockboy’ growled under his breath. As head of the Kiryuus’
ninjas, it was his job to ferret out secrets almost before they became
secrets. He knew of Touga’s recent interest in Nabiki Tendo. He knew all
the names in Touga’s little black book, having made certain every girl was
who she was supposed to be and not someone trying to get close and discover
some of the secrets the Kiryuus held. All the truly notable families tried
to spy on one another. But that damned butler was an enigma that no one had
ever figured out, no matter how hard the Kiryuu (and other families’ spies)
had tried. That he seemed to know everything before even the ninja did was
even more annoying. He was no danger, betrayal would have come long before
now and any been intended. He was more like an itch that couldn’t be
scratched.



He put Laughlin in the back of his mind and decided to personally acquire
the Tendo’s measurements. Touga was the future, and while he was not wont
for emotional decisions, too many failures would result in demotion and
possible firing. The task would be simple enough, and it would be a break
from his cover of being a simple stockboy. It would be a simple enough
matter to sneak into the school and go through the medical files on her. He
had just the right costume. No one ever questioned a janitor, after all.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx





Thanks go out to DB Sommer for the last couple of sections, one of his many
contributions to the Quantum Destinies storyline.



My heartfelt thanks goes out to all of my readers for all of their comments
and suggestions. A special thanks goes out to DB Sommer and Michael Allen
for their very detailed help with grammar and plotting.



Another special thanks goes out to DB Sommer, whose many side-stories set
in this universe are one of the reasons I returned to writing. Kudos!
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