Akane really hated being so angry all the time. It was Ranma's
fault. . .his fault for being an arrogant, stubborn, violent, selfish,
misogynist. . . A red haze began to cover her vision, and her body
tingled as if an army of ants crawled under her skin. . Akane took a deep
breath and let it out slowly. It wasn't really Ranma's fault, or at least
not all his fault she amended silently. . . remembering . . . things. She
shook her head to clear it of unpalatable thoughts. No it was just more
convenient to blame Ranma. After all, it wasn't as if she could tell
anyone the real reason she was always angry and short tempered. She began
her calming exercises and a mark, like an old bruise disappeared, like
water running down a drain.
"Goodness, I haven't lost control like that. . . in a long time.
A very long time." Akane let her head fall back against the side of the
furo and her thoughts began to drift.

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

"What do you want inpo?" Akane looked at the scraggily looking
teen standing in front of the gate leading where she wanted... no where
she needed to go.
"Gomen, I would like to go inside."
"Gomen" the teen mimicked nastily "What a polite little man he
is. Isn't he polite Tora?" An older man of perhaps thirty ghosted out of
the brush.
"You'd better get your eyes checked Yoyogi, that's a girl."
Yoyogi peered nastily at Akane and reached for her. "Itachi huh? She just
needs a real man..."
Akane had lived a very sheltered life for her ten years by reason
of her mother's death and being the baby of the family. So she really
didn't understand what Youogi was saying or implying. On the other hand
she was hot, tired and hungry. She'd had to walk fifteen miles up the
mountains from where the bus let her off. She was also irritable and
twitchy. For days now she'd felt as if ants were crawling around under
her skin. At first just a few little ones, then more and more. By now the
first few ants had brought all their friends and relations, built
subdivisions and schools and planted colonies. Yoyogi made the mistake of
laying hands on Akane just when all the ants had started a civil war.
"ZAKENNAYO!!!!" Akane didn't know what that word meant, only that
it was a bad word. She'd learned it from a friend at school and practiced
it for days in front of a mirror. This was her first chance to use it.
Youogi was twice blessed that day, with Akane's first "bad word" and her
very best iron-palm strike, which did not crush his chest like an empty
potato-chip bag only because she pulled it at the last second.
Tora looked at the erstwhile guardian, unconscious and bleeding
from the mouth and ears. He then looked at Akane, and at what looked like
a dirty smudge or bruise running down her neck and along her left arm.
"Please go in. You are very welcome here."

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

Ranma was not a very religious person. Prayers and temples were
all very well for old men and women, but he believed that a man should
take care of his own problems. Had Ranma been more introspective he might
have realized how often he prayed, heartfelt prayers, sincere prayers
. . . Dear God don't let her drown . . . Dear God let me find her in
time . . . Dear God don't let her irritate the man with the shotgun.
"Did you say something Ranma?"
Ranma made a strangled sound and pointed up the stairs. Ryouga
glanced up the stairs and gasped. Coming down were two of Jiro's thugs,
one with a red hand print on his cheek and between them a fulminating
Akane, naked except for a short toweling robe.
"Dearest, what do these men want?" Jiro's urbane voice cut off
Genma's answer with the slickness of skin sliding off a man three weeks
dead.
"What do I want? Why my dear Nodoka. . . I may call you Nodoka
mayn't I?" Jiro continued without pause "I want what every man wants,
strong sons, close friends. . . respect.
Respect is very important. Without it a man is nothing. As Hakuin
said 'Without respect a man is just a dirty bag of rice." Jiro misquoted.
I came here last week to conduct business, but you thought it would be
amusing to humiliate me, you. . .
Nabiki looked up sickly from where she crouched on the floor. She
watched Jiro pace back and forth, waving his hands rudely in her father's
face, his voice rising and falling. She'd been a fool. She knew who Jiro
was, what he was and she still thought she could control things. The
great Tendou Nabiki, business genius, deal maker. . . She held back a
sob.. If she'd just followed the advice she gave 'her girls' ". . .
business is business and getting emotional is bad business."
And now, her family was going to suffer. Unless. . . Despite the
protest from her abused stomach, Nabiki threw herself at Jiro's feet.
"Yokichi-sama, any fault is mine. Please. . ." A savage kick
threw her tumbling across the room to land in a sprawled heap.
"BITCH! How dare you interrupt me!" Jiro punctuated his sentence
with a kick to the kidneys, hauled Nabiki up by her collar and slammed
her against the wall. His free hand ripped open his shirt exposing a
golden lion tattoo.
"Do you know who I am?" Spittle spattered against Nabiki's barely
conscious face and mingled with the blood and tears already there. "I AM
YOKICHI! Yokichi Jiro, Kumi-cho of the Kobayashi-kai. . ."
Ranma was sick. He had to do something, or Jiro was going to kill
Nabiki, beat her to death in front of them. But if he moved without an
opening. . . he wasn't afraid for himself; but Akane. . . Shan Pu, his
mother, Uucchan. . .
"Enough." The single angry word cut through Jiro's tirade like an
ax.
"Dear God" Ranma's plea winged heavenward to God, Allah to Zeus
inclusive "Dear God, please shut her mouth before she gets herself
killed."
God must have been listening because no blast came to blot Tendou
Akane from the earth for her impertinence. Ranma turned his head just as
Akane's robe sighed to the ground in a slither of silk over damp girl-
flesh. If Buddha himself had announced that Ranma's only hope of escaping
hell-fire and damnation was to turn his head, he would have been roasting
on a spit. . . he couldn't blink. . . wasn't sure he was even breathing.
His entire world was filled with a small bare back, tiny beads of water
glistening like jewels on a bed of warm velvet. His eyes traced the
delicate curve of her spine down. . . down till it made a small dip and
started the sweet globe. . .
A life time of martial arts training dragged him back to reality
with the brutal jolt of electric shock smashing a dead heart back to
life. He looked around to see that the yakuza were as enthralled as he
had been. He glanced at Ryouga. A savage elbow to the ribs restarted the
lost boy's heart and surely prevented death through loss of blood volume.
This was their chance. While Akane distracted them. . . He took back
every bad thing he'd ever said about her martial ability. . . well most
of them. . .OK, none of them. . . but was she ever Kawaii!! As these
irrelevant thoughts ran through his head, Ranma caught his father's eye.
Ranma knew he could count on Ryouga to watch his back Since Ranma was the
fastest, it would be up to him to take out the outlying guards. As soon
as he moved, he knew he could count on Genma to take care of his own and
his wife's guards. Shan Pu, with or without Ukyou, could handle her side
of the room. That left Kasumi and Nabiki. Neither were combatants, and
Nabiki was hurt. . . and across the room now, in the hands of Jiro. Ranma
scanned the guards quickly, re-calculating the odds. . . when the
temperature in the room seemed to drop like a gut shot duck.
"Oh no. Akane you dummy." He prayed silently. "Don't try
anything. Just distract them". He turned slightly, back toward Akane,
trying to keep his guards from seeing. He needn't have bothered. They
wouldn't have noticed if he'd put on a pink tutu and danced the theme to
'Paint Your Wagon'; they were hypnotized by. . .
A grey smudge that seemed to roll across Akane's body like a fog
bank. The fog began to thicken and darken. . . now bursts of color
appeared, like lightning flashes in a distant storm cloud. The flashes
became faster and larger, exploding across her body like a storm of
colors, bright gold, scarlet and emerald green and a hundred other colors
that Ranma had no name for. He heard a groan and a metallic clatter
behind him. He spun to find his guard belly down on the ground, his
shotgun forgotten as he tried to scrabble a hole in the hardwood floor.
The second guard was barely standing, eyes sick with fear. Ryouga reached
out and tugged the weapon from baby slack hands. A sudden gasp pulled
both boys around to see Akane clothed in splendor. The storm of colors
had coalesced into a scene of wonder; an entire world of magical beasts
and enchanted forests. Crystal dragons flew across an onyx sky, gryphons
and unicorns played in scarlet glades and a hundred other fantastically
beautiful beasts that Ranma had never dreamed of lived in this world.
And, ruling over all, the Dragon Emperor his jeweled and feathered body
wrapped protectively around Akane.
"You know me Jiro."
"Was that Akane's voice?" Ranma wondered silently.
"You know me Jiro!" It wasn't a question.
"Yes, yes. Please. Please."
Jiro was babbling. Ranma distantly noted that Jiro still had a
bladder control problem. Ooops. Bowel and bladder.
"Please, Tendou-sama. I didn't know. Couldn't know. You didn't
tell. . ."
Akane cut him off with the brutality of a slaughter house club.
"Are you questioning me Jiro?" Jiro moaned and crawled forward on
his belly. Ranma realized, in horror, that he was going to kiss Akane's
foot.
"Jiro" Jiro froze in place like a plastic doll. A very ugly, not
well-liked doll.
"You will make reparations. Tendou Nabiki will make repairs to
the house and grounds. She will give presents to family and friends who
have been injured. She will not pay for any of this She will not be
bothered with questions or delays. You will see that Tendou Nabiki has
whatever she requires, whenever and wherever she desires. You will never,
in this life or the next, so much as let your shadow's shadow touch
ground where any of my family or friends have stepped.
"Tendou-sama" Jiro had, from somewhere found a small store of
courage. "It shall be done, everything. . ." Jiro added hastily in fear
that Akane might think he was arguing with her. "But Tendou-sama, how
will I know what is required if I may not speak with. . ."
"That is your problem." Jiro shriveled under that gaze, like a
cockroach in a flame. "You will make no mistakes. You will forget
nothing, you will leave nothing undone. Go."
Weeping, Jiro started to scuttle off.
"Jiro." Again the gang-boss froze. "Take these with you." Akane
toed one of the fallen and forgotten guns with a small bare foot.
Ranma noticed that none of the Yakuza goons that scurried to obey
made the least attempt use the guns. In fact, they acted with exaggerated
care to give no offensive, obviously terrified that Akane might . . .
notice them.
"Jeepers Akane." Ranma moved forward. "How'd you do. . ."
"GET OUT!" Ranma was brought up short by the sudden scream from
Tendou Soun.
"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" Each scream was punctuated by a blow
to Akane's face. Ranma, frozen momentarily by the sight of Soun's
maniacal attack, sprang forward with Ryouga to seize Soun by the arms. He
was astounded to find that he and Ryouga were barely able to restrain the
enraged elder Tendou.
"Monster! How dare you bring this filth into my house. Get out
get out GET OUT!"
With a sudden surge, Soun threw off Ranma and Ryouga, seized the
unresisting Akane and threw her bodily out of the door.
"What the HELL are you doing?" Ryouga grabbed Soun by the
shoulder and spun him around. "How could you do that to Akane, your own
daughter."
"I have no daughter Akane."
"Father, what. . ." Soun turned on Kasumi so suddenly that she
shrank back, afraid of her father for the first time in her life.
"I have NO DAUGHTER AKANE! I have a daughter Nabiki, I have a
daughter Kasumi. I have no daughter Akane!"
Kasumi started to speak when Nabiki touched her arm and motioned
her to stop. Kasumi fell silent and with a very troubled look watched her
father pace agitatedly about the room. He seemed dazed, confused and
decades older than his years.
"Tendou, old friend, it's been a long day. Why don't we go
upstairs. Kasumi can bring a tray to your room."
"Oh, yes a tray." Kasumi seemed glad to have instructions and
something as familiar as dinner to cope with. Unfortunately her legs
wouldn't cooperate, and she fell back twice as she attempted to rise.
"Here Kasumi dear, let me help you." Nodoka reached down and
pulled Kasumi to her feet."If you don't mind, I'd like to help in the
kitchen."
"Mind? No, no not at all."
"Pops, what the hell. . . ?" Genma made a sharp hidden motion
with his hand, cutting Ranma off. Without taking his eyes from Soun, he
spoke to the room at large.
"I'm sure this has all been very stressful for the girls. Perhaps
someone should call Dr. Tofu."
"I'll do it." Nabiki started to rise from the floor, then fell
back with a gasp, clutching her middle.
"Stupid girl." Shan Pu chided "You no should be calling doctor,
you need doctor." She glanced around the room. "Ranma you call doctor,
lost boy come here, pick up Nabiki."
"M. . m. .me?"
"Yes you. Make self useful."
Ryouga knelt beside the wounded Nabiki and picked her up as
gingerly as a washtub of boiling nitroglycerine on a ball bearing floor.
Nabiki stiffened slightly as Ryouga's arms came around her. She
hurt too much to maintain false dignity and relaxed in his embrace,
soothed by the strong beating of his heart.
Shan Pu watched Ranma head for the phone and waited until Ryouga
safely reached the stairs, then turned to Ukyou.
"We go now."
"Go? Where?"
"After Akane." Shan Pu very kindly did not add "stupid". "She
need this." Shan Pu dangled a short robe between two fingers.
"Oh my." was all Ukyou could manage as she realized Akane was
naked. They didn't have to look far. They found Akane huddled against the
outside wall of the doujou, only her drawn up knees preserving her
modesty.
"Here Akane, put on robe. Shan Pu no want you giving husband
ideas." Akane made no sign she'd heard the Amazon and stared unblinking
at the horizon.
"Yeah, Akane. I don't want Ranma honey distracted from his 'cute
fiance'."
Akane remained as silent as a china doll. Worriedly the Amazon
and the Chef looked at each other. Then, as one, they bent down and
slipped the robe over the arms of the silent girl and pulled her to her
feet.
"We go to great-grand mother. She know what to do. OK Akane? You
come with us. Alright?"
"She's right sugar. You can't stay here by yourself. Come with
us."

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

"Come with me child. You can't stay here by yourself." Tendou
Akane, eleven years, three months and several lifetimes old, looked at
the older woman in exasperation. She'd picked up her traveling companion
at Morioka station. By Numakunai, Akane knew all about Mrs Takemoto's
children. Through the change at Hachinohe Akane learned about her
grandchildren and their birthdays and vacation plans.
"Come with me. You can stay at my daughter's until your friends
arrive."
They'd been having this argument since the Seikan submarine
tunnel. Now they had arrived at Kushiro city and the sweetly persistent
old lady was still with her like a barnacle on a whale's behind.
"Thank you very much. But I must stay at the station or my
friends won't know how to find me." Akane lied.
"Nonsense dear. We can easily leave word with the station master.
He can put an announcement on the electronic board." She smiled benignly
at Akane.
Akane looked at the smiling face and sighed inwardly. She'd hoped
to leave quietly but there was no hope for it. She couldn't go home with
this sweet old woman. It would be easier to escape from the Federal
Prison in Tokyo than from a Japanese grandmother.
"I suppose you're right. Here, let me carry your bag." She picked
up Mrs. Takemoto's bags, slung her pack over one shoulder and started off
out of the station. While a small part of her mind carried on a chatty
conversation, the rest was scanning the busy station looking for. . .
"Oh, there they are! Sorry I can't stay after all, but my friends
have arrived. So very nice talking to you." Akane had been watching the
approaching traffic carefully. As she finished her rapid fire speech to
the bewildered Mrs. Takemoto, she bowed, shouldered her pack and sprang
across the road just in front of the bus she'd been watching for the past
few seconds. Shielded briefly by the bus, she quickly dashed between two
parked buses, took a quick dog-leg to the left and was out of sight. In
the distance she could hear a faint cry as Mrs. Takemoto futilely called
after her.
Hours later she was crunching through the snow about half an hour
short of Mashu-ko in the eastern part of Akan National Park. Fortunately
for Akane, there were few people about this time of day in the dead of
winter. She would have found it hard to explain wandering alone through
the park dressed only in shorts, singlet and sandals; dress more
appropriate for the beach than the mountains in winter. The frigid air
was heavenly on her over-heated skin. Since she'd had the notion to roll
in a snow bank every few miles, she no longer felt like her skin was
going to burst in an eruption of blood and bone. As she bounced along she
hummed a little tune. A faint line of bruising covered her arms and legs
like a shadow and seemed to dance and shift in response to the happy
song. Akane held her left arm up and spoke to the shadow with the fond
sternness of a parent to a favorite if mischievous child.
"Oh, you want to play, do you? Well you'll have a chance to play
before the day's done. No waiting around. It's Mu or nothing." She
chuckled a little at her own joke, the shadow bobbing a little in seeming
mirth. She thought back over the years since she'd started this, five
years that were more like five hundred. She'd learned so much since then.
She'd learned that her mother was dead, that the devils were really
doctors in white coats, and she'd learned that there was a hell and she
was damned. The thought didn't bother her as much as it should have. If
she had known at six what she knew now, she'd have burned The Book and
driven a knife in her own heart. And if Papa knew, he'd save her the
trouble. She grew a little sad at that thought. Papa was all she had, she
wanted so much to please him. And it wasn't too late still. She could
turn back, go to Mrs. Takemoto. Papa could be there to pick her up by
morning. She'd get a scolding for running away, maybe a spanking, but it
would be over. She could turn back. . . Akane gave an inelegant snort.
She could sprout wings and do barrel rolls over the Imperial Palace too.
No, once she had started there was no turning back. Not because she
couldn't but because she didn't want to; it was as simple as that. Death,
damnation, losing Papa's love. . . she watched the shadow roiling just
below her skin. . . nothing was more important than this. . . except what
was to come.
"What do you want?" The voice wasn't suspicious, it wasn't
welcoming, it simply was.
In reply Akane held up her left arm. The shadow, almost invisible
in the moonlight suddenly thickened and seemed to glow faintly, to anyone
with the sight to see. It appeared that the 'voice' had such sight.
"Go."
Akane followed the pathless trail deeper into the shadows eager
for what lay ahead. She met another, farther into the darkness.
"Who are you?"
"A traveler, desiring nothing."
"It is dangerous to travel alone."
"I am never alone." Akane held up her right arm. A shadow seemed
to crawl along her skin.
"There is nothing for you here."
"Then I will leave with nothing." The presence sighed, then spoke
without the tone of ritual.
"I didn't expect to see you here, 'Butterfly'"
"Nor I you Tora." Tora wasn't his name either.
"I thought you'd have more sense, 'Butterfly'. You should go
back . . ."
"Would you go back?" Silence answered. "I'm here for the
'third'."
"There are easier. . ."
"I don't want easy! I want the best."
"Even if you die."
"We're all dead Tora. This. . ." she held up both arms, the glow
increasing 'till Tora had to shield his over-mind. ". . . this is all
that matters."
"You're right. I wouldn't go back. I was just hoping you were
smarter. If you want to go 'third'. . .?"
Akane nodded once sharply.
". . . then I think I have just who you need. . . or perhaps
you're just who HE needs."
Akane didn't respond to this gibe and followed him further into
the moon-shadowed land.

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

Akane sat in the prow of the small boat as Tora rowed with
muffled oars toward Kamuisshu Island, Island of the Gods the native Ainu
called it. She wondered how many others had come here over the centuries
for the 'third', wondered if the Ainu had somehow seen or sensed what
sometimes happened on the island. An even smaller part of her mind
wondered about the three observation towers around the protected lake.
She dismissed the faint worry about the Japanese Environmental Protection
Division. Her concentration was on the figure, cloaked like herself,
sitting at the stern. Suddenly she felt the keel crunch against he bottom
and jumped out to pull the boat ashore.

Daisuke Kato, called 'Aoi' here, stared at the 'Butterfly'. He'd
heard rumors that a female had joined the 'family'. He hadn't believed it
in the beginning. But the stories hadn't gone away. A female getting her
'first'. A girl with a 'second'. Then stories of a girl confirming her
'second'. You almost had to believe them. . . almost. Now here she was, a
confirmed 'second' looking for her 'third'.
He liked young girls. She was almost too old for him, but
properly dressed she could pass for nine or ten. His lower body surged as
he thought of the "fun" they could have. He loved it when they cried for
Mama or tried to run find Papa. But they broke so easily. It wasn't fair.
If he wanted them to last, he had to hold back, but when he rode his
"other". . . "Aoi" sighed. They broke so easily. Hot eyes fastened on the
'Butterfly'. She'd shed her cloak and stood nude on the beach, wind
ruffling her shoulder length hair. Even better, that boyish figure might
pass for eight with work. And she wouldn't break. . . She's last a good
long time. . .she. . .
The "other" snarled for his attention, jerking his mind away from
minor pleasures.
He dropped his cloak as well and stood naked for a moment. Then
his "other" burst forth from under his skin like a greasy black cloud. As
flames licked through his blood, trivial passions burned away leaving
only the "other". The "Butterfly" was now a living flame to his
heightened senses. The "other" surged hungrily forward and was only just
restrained. "Ahhh." Had he groaned, out loud? Oh, but to his over-mind.
She was so beautiful . . so strong. . . so . . . delicious.

Akane stood unselfconsciously naked on the beach. It wasn't much
of a beach. The entire island was an oval only 70 meters by 50 meters.
But she wasn't going to be here long enough to get claustrophobic.
Normally, standing naked in front of two men would have made her die from
embarrassment. When the "other" was with her. . . well, then nothing else
mattered. She'd first pictured the "other" as a giant beast like a
dragon, larger and stronger than anyone or anything else. As she got
older, the Dragon became more and more real. And more dangerous. And like
any wild animal, you had to be careful that it didn't escape or run wild.
Akane opened the door to the Dragon's cage and let her out part of the
way.
Akane had always thought of the Dragon as female, a mother bright
and terrible, fiercely protective of her children. . . of Akane. As the
Dragon moved ponderously from her cage, the night became brighter and
brighter as the veil of night was pushed back by her over-mind. She
looked at Aoi and considered what she saw. Tall, topping her by at least
half a meter and maybe fifty kilos heavier. This she dismissed as
irrelevant. Graceful. . . he moved with the predatory confidence of a big
cat. Also irrelevant. She opened her over-mind to look at him and gasped
with pleasure. Bright, like a blow-torch and hot. So powerful. . .so
large. . . so scrumptious. Like a hot-baked sweet potato. . .just out of
reach. But not for long. Her stomach cramped in sympathetic hunger.

As the two approached each other, Tora stepped back out of the
way. He was neither judge nor referee. His job began and ended with
rowing the boat. . . and cleaning up after.
Akane and "Aoi" stopped with less than a meter between them. And
stood there. Small noises could be heard, insects whirred passed, water
lapped against the shore. And still they stood, unmoving. The first clash
was an invisible one of will and nerve.
"Aoi" always enjoyed the first clash of wills, enjoyed prodding
and probing his opponent. Driving and harrying him before the kill. It
was better than sex. The reward was certainly greater. And now his
opponent was a woman. He'd never had a woman this way before.
Akane watched with her eyes and with her over-mind as "Aoi"
seemed to swell with power. The greasy black shadow coiled and writhed
like a bucket of worms poured onto hot coals. A geometric pattern of
circles, triangles and lightning bolts appeared on his skin. And colors,
muddy greens, reds the color of old blood, burnt orange and yellow the
color of winter-killed grass. These and other colors crawled under his
skin like maggots. It would be easy to be fooled into attacking at this
point. Fooled into thinking that "Aoi" was vulnerable. Akane knew better
and held her dragon back, even as it roared and snapped at its chains.
Even more than training with The Book, a lifetime of martial training had
taught her to wait. . . and watch.
"Aoi" was frustrated. Always before at this point, he'd had some
reaction from his opponent, some gauge of their skill, but the
'Butterfly' just stood there. Was she too stupid, so mind-blind that she
couldn't see what was happening? No, no one stupid could make "second".
That meant she was good. . . very, very good. "Aoi" licked mental lips,
anticipating the feast to come. He didn't mind a challenge. The easy ones
weren't worth the effort. He forgot about trying a further test of wills
and loosed the "other" completely.
Akane watched "Aoi" suddenly seem to deflate slightly, then swell
to impossible size. Power blazed up like gasoline tossed on a flame. An
iron palm strike rocketed toward her chest. To her over-mind enhanced
senses it seemed to come in slow motion, like an avalanche or a tsunami,
to crush her chest, turn her heart and lungs into tattered bags of ground
beef.
Akane had developed her own philosophy of martial arts over the
past five years. According to her own rules, speed was necessary, power
essential, but precision was everything. As the deadly strike approached,
she loosed her dragon completely and stepped into the blow, pivoting
slightly, just a tiny amount really, to the left. As a consequence, the
deadly iron palm was robbed of a direct hit and instead hit the curve of
her ribs with no more force than a major league bat hitting a home-run.
Akane watched. . . watched "Aoi's" eyes start to widen in astonishment as
his strike missed. . . watched as the inertia of his blow carried him
forward. . . watched as he overextended.
It was a small thing, really. The imperfect blow carried "Aoi"
slightly out of position. . . his right arm came up a tiny bit from a
perfect guard . Akane could see a tiny patch of skin between "Aoi's" top
rib and just below the out of position shoulder. A small patch of skin no
wider than the thickness of her finger. She could see a tiny tuft of soft
hairs that nestled under his arm. . . see a small black mole in the
center of that tender spot. She used that mole to aim the spear-point
hand she sent blasting through that vulnerable spot like a war-ax through
rotten cloth. A spear-point that ripped through a nerve cluster, killing
"Aoi's" right arm forever. He didn't have long to mourn his loss as
Akane's strike continued to tear through his lungs 'till it reached the
heart. There Akane's spear-point turned to a tiger-claw hand which
grasped the heart. . . and. . . pulled.
"Aoi" had less than an eye blink to realize he was dead. Anger
surged, and he called on the "other"; called on the "other" to keep him
alive for another few minutes. . . long enough to crush the "Butterfly".
The "other" responded and ordinarily would have succeeded. After all,
"normal's"could function for fifteen or twenty minutes without a heart.
Adrenalin would keep the brain functioning on stored oxygen for at least
that long. With the "other's" help, he could double that easily. Except
that on the way out of his chest cavity, Akane made a short detour. And
even the "other" couldn't keep "Aoi" on his feet with a fist full of his
spine missing.

"Aoi"'s body fell to the ground with a wet boneless plop, of
interest only to the worms and ants.

Akane looked at the treasure glistening wetly in her hand. She
raised the heart over her head and crushed it like a ripe fruit into her
upturned mouth. Hot, rich and wonderful, the blood heavy with "Aoi's"
"third" poured into her mouth and down her throat. And mingled with her
blood. . . joined with her "other". . .
A fiery cloud erupted from Akane's chest and spread to join the
shadows on her right and left sides. The "third" was born. . . and the
"other" was complete.
Akane's dragon roared it's triumph and the sound echoed across
the lake.

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