From: "M.A. MacKinnon" <emmack@ibm.net>


A Ranma 1/2 fanfic
All Ranma 1/2 characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi
and are used without permission

The Prodigal Mother
Part Two

by Mark MacKinnon


     Akane was worried.
     She'd been thinking carefully about Ranma's behaviour since the
fight at Furinkan, and some worrisome patterns were beginning to emerge.
She had shared Ranma's reluctance to force her company on Kunou, given
the lengths he had gone to in order to isolate himself from the outside
world, but she was beginning to see that there was more to it.
     He hadn't been to either the Nekohanten or Ucchan's since Ranko's
departure.  Mousse and Shampoo were apparently nursing Cologne back to
health at the restaurant, since she'd refused to go to a hospital.  And
he'd been avoiding Ukyou, both at school and outside of it.  He was even
withdrawing somewhat from Akane herself.
     Akane knew Ranma pretty well after all the time they'd spent living
under the same roof.  She was accustomed to the ebb and flow of his
moods, and she was pretty sure she knew what the problem was.  It wasn't
*just* that Ranma felt guilty over Kodachi, although that was part of
it.  Ranma just wasn't very good at dealing with emotionally complex
situations.  He wasn't afraid of anything he could fight (outside of
cats, of course), but the prospect of having to face a crippled Cologne
or an emotionally fragile Ukyou left him paralysed.
     And so, he had chosen to do nothing.  She sighed.  Not an uncommon
reaction for him, but the worst possible one under the circumstances.
She'd begun to wish that Ryouga would show up to fight Ranma, so he
would pull out of his funk.
     But of course, that wasn't going to happen.  Ryouga had left soon
after Ranko, and she knew why.  He had decided to give her up, and
didn't want to stick around to watch her and Ranma together.  She had
only just found out he'd been in love with her, and he didn't know she
knew, nor did he know she knew about his decision to leave.  Not that it
would have made much difference, beyond embarrassing him.
     She sighed again.  Why did things always have to be so complicated?
It was going to be up to her to nudge Ranma in the right direction, she
figured, if she hoped to head off trouble before things got even more
tense.  She looked up and down the hallway.  Speaking of Ranma, if the
idiot didn't get his butt in gear, he was going to be late, and he'd end
up having to tussle with Miss Hinako again.  Where could he be?  Class
was almost ready to start.
     Finally she saw him trotting up the hallway, dodging small crowds
of latecomers, his clothing damp.
     "Where were you?" she asked.  "We're gonna be late!"
     "I had to get some hot water," he grumbled, not meeting her gaze.
"I got splashed again."
     "Honestly!  You'd think you could avoid one little old lady!"
     "She's uncanny," Ranma admitted, patting his damp shirt into place.
She noticed that he kept a discreet distance from her, not walking too
close.  Any observer would never know that he had finally admitted his
love for her.  To everyone around them, their relationship was exactly
the same.  She wondered if that was ever going to change, either.
     Well, she knew she had to take the first step.
     "Ranma, meet me out behind the gym at lunch, okay?  I want to talk
to you."
     "Huh?" he asked, sounding alarmed.  "About what?"  Akane sighed
inwardly at the panic in his eyes.  If she'd said twenty berserk rival
martial artists would be waiting for him at the school gates at lunch,
he'd have been eager to meet them and show off his skills.  The prospect
of having a serious conversation with the girl he said he loved, though,
struck terror into his heart.
     Hopeless.
     "Just be there, Ranma!  It's important.  Okay?"  He nodded glumly
and they slipped into the classroom, only a few seconds late.
     That turned out not to be a problem, however.  Miss Hinako never
showed up that morning, and they ended up having a free period.  Akane
spent most of it thinking about what she'd say to Ranma, watching him
ignore an increasingly despondent Ukyou, and wondering at Miss Hinako's
uncharacteristic absence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Ninomiya Hinako blinked blearily, focussing on her hands where they
gripped the edge of the bathroom sink.  She felt like she was just
waking up after a deep sleep, groggy and uncertain.  She noticed that
light was streaming in a bathroom window.  She noticed that the bathroom
in question was, in fact, her own.
     She couldn't remember how she'd gotten there.
     Looking up, she could see her reflection in the mirror.  There was
dirt smudged across one cheek, her hair hung in a snarled mass, and the
look in her eyes was one of blank confusion.  She felt like she had just
reverted back from her adult form, but how could that be?  And why was
it morning?  The last thing she remembered ...
     What *was* the last thing she remembered?  She'd gone to see
Tatewaki Kunou, she recalled that.  Then she'd been on the way home,
and ...
     She saw her eyes, reflected in the mirror, widen in shock as she
remembered ...

     (Something moved in the darkness, a quick blur of motion, and she
was pulled roughly from her feet, yanked forward into the shadows.  She
fought for breath as she felt a rough hand covering her mouth, cutting
off her scream as she was carried into the depths of the alley, further
and further from the light.
     And the thing carrying her laughed, a mad, inhuman sound.
     She kicked and struggled angrily, only causing more sounds of
amusement from her captor.
     "Pretty-pretty," he had hissed gleefully, running his free hand
over the exposed flesh of her leg.  "Hungry, pretty-pretty.  Very
hungry."  She knew what her captor was hungry for.  Well, he was going
to be in for a big surprise.
     Finally they had stopped, deep in the alley, behind a garbage
dumpster and far from the safety of the streetlights.  She had been
tossed roughly to the ground, looking up to see a dark shape among the
shadows, standing over her, breathing raspily.
     "Pretty-pretty," he crooned.  "Sooooo hungryyyyyy ..."  She'd heard
enough from this pervert.  She could sense the chi coming off him in
foul waves, ignoring her own sense that something was terribly, terribly
wrong ...
     "You twisted little creep!" she'd shouted, hating how high-pitched
her voice was in that form.  "I know how to deal with scum like you!"
And she'd extended her hand, a five-yen piece between two of her
fingers.
     "HAPPO FIVE-YEN SATSU!!"  The shape had grunted in surprise as
she'd begun to drain it's chi, stepping back reflexively into a pool of
light.
     That's when she saw it for the first time.
     It wasn't human.
     And it's chi had begun to flow into her, and it *hurt*.  She
screamed in concert with the creature, but she couldn't stop the flow of
energy.  She'd never drained chi from something not human before, and
the shock threatened to drown her in ice-cold pain and darkness ...
     She remembered seeing the thing dissolving into a puddle of
greenish goo, and she doubled over in pain, her body swelling into her
more developed form, the alleyway disappearing in a haze of pain ...)

     Or so she thought.  Maybe she'd dreamed it.  Maybe the whole thing
had been a dream.  It didn't seem real, not standing here in her nice,
tidy bathroom, with the towels hung neatly, ends squared away, and all
her toiletries arranged in neat rankings according to size.
     But she felt groggy, confused.  She was dirty and sore.  It had
been getting dark out when she'd passed that alley, and now it was
light.
     Light.
     "Oh my, what time is it?" she asked aloud, feeling a sense of
panic.  "I'm going to be late!"
     She dashed out into the bedroom, only to be brought up short by the
pain in her limbs and a sudden wave of fatigue.  She sat abruptly on the
edge of her neatly made bed, shaking her head woozily.  She blinked
several times, trying to bring the room back into focus, but it didn't
seem to help.
     "Better phone in sick," she mumbled, trying to stand.  Her legs
buckled without warning, though, and she found herself falling back onto
the bed, her limbs heavy and uncooperative.
     "In a minute," she mumbled.  "Phone them ... in a ... minute ..."
     Seconds later, she was asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Ranma edged around the corner of the gym, hoping against hope that
Akane had forgotten, or been distracted.
     It was a vain hope, of course.  She was waiting right where she'd
said she would be, leaning against the wall, her hands clasped lightly
in front of her, arms straight.  She was looking the other way, and he
took the opportunity to just look at her.
     She really was cute, he had to admit.  She cocked her head lightly,
as if listening to something only she could hear, and a sudden breeze
swept her skirt against her legs, outlining one thigh in a way that made
Ranma's breath catch in his throat.  She reached up absently to slide a
stray lock of hair behind her ear, staring off into space pensively.
Ranma wished she would smile.  He wanted to see her smile again.  Things
had been so confusing since Kodachi's death that he sometimes felt like
nothing was certain anymore.
     Not even the love he'd finally admitted to.
     Then Akane noticed him standing there, and she did smile, a warm
and inviting smile that lit up her whole face and caused Ranma to smile
in return.
     "Not cute," he thought, dazzled.  "Beautiful."  She waved him over
and he went, watching her as she primly swept her skirt under her legs
and knelt on the grass.  He settled beside her, his smile fading as he
realized that the time for stalling was over.
     "Ranma," she said, looking him in the eye and speaking firmly, "we
have to talk."
     "Uh-huh," he said with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
     "Don't look at me like that," she sighed.  "This situation isn't
going to go away, and it isn't going to get any better on its own."
     "It's okay, Akane," Ranma told her.  "I've decided to go see Kunou
like this."  He indicated his boy form.  "I'm going to have to face him
sooner or later.  You're right, there's no sense in putting it off."
She just looked at him.
     "That's good, Ranma," she said softly, "but I wasn't just talking
about Kunou."  He looked puzzled cocked his head warily.
     "What do you mean?"
     "You've been avoiding the consequences of that day, Ranma.  You've
stayed away from the Nekohanten, and you've even been ducking Ukyou here
at school.  Just why is it so hard for you to be around your friends
now, Ranma?  Does your guilt extend to them too?"  She reached out to
take his hand, and he pulled back in alarm, looking around frantically.
She froze, hurt plain on her face, then slowly drew her hand back.
     "Ranma, you idiot," she said, her voice low and rough.  "Ever since
that day, you've been avoiding me, too, haven't you?  You said you loved
me that night, but nothing's changed, has it?  HAS IT?"  He could see
that she was on the verge of tears, and cursed himself inwardly for his
clumsiness.
     "Akane, wait!  You've got it all wrong!"  He tried to explain, but
she stood abruptly, glaring down at him.
     "No, I think I've finally got it right.  You're still afraid to
change things.  You're afraid to be seen with me, isn't that it?  Well,
fine.  Then I'll leave!"  She stomped away, and Ranma knew that tears
were streaming down her face, but he felt powerless to stop her.
     Wait, he wanted to shout.  You've got it all wrong.  But as usual,
when he needed words, they abandoned him, and at last he just drove his
fist into the wall of the gym, hearing the siding creak alarmingly under
the impact.
     "You, my friend, are an idiot," he muttered to himself.  He stood
slowly, brushing the grass from his pants, and began to walk.  He knew
he had to talk to Akane and straighten things out.  Misunderstandings
like this had a way of ballooning.  Experience had taught him that.  And
after what he'd said to her on the roof that night, he knew he could
talk to her, *really* talk.  But talking like that still didn't come
easy to him.  He didn't think it ever would.
     So he walked, beginning to compose the words he wanted to say to
her, running over them in his mind so that when the time came, he
wouldn't get flustered and fall back on his old standards, "You stupid
tomboy!" or "You are sooo uncute!"
     He wondered how he could ever have thought things would be simpler
after he'd confessed his feelings to her.
     He walked through the small knots of people enjoying the warm
spring sunshine, catching the occasional stray scrap of conversation as
he walked.
     "... she was wearing this red dress, oh MAN ..."
     "... hasn't called me since the weekend, do you ..."
     "... I'll tell her friend that you like her and ..."
     "... heard she was killed by a cult, and her brother was arrested!"
     He stiffened as he heard that last part.  People were still talking
about Kodachi, and the events of that day.  Fires, explosions, and chaos
all over the ward, and beyond.  Rumours abounded, but nobody seemed to
have any inkling of the truth.  Nobody but those who had fought at
Furinkan that day.
     He wondered, not for the first time, what had become of the
creatures that had escaped after the link had collapsed.  There hadn't
been any further incidents that he was aware of, but the things had to
have gone somewhere.  Still, things were quiet, and he had his own
problems to deal with.
     Speaking of problems ...
     "Well, well.  Ranma.  I just saw my sister, and you know, she
didn't look very happy."  Nabiki crossed her arms and skewered him with
one of her patented cool stares.  Ranma felt his already frayed temper
begin to stir.
     "That's none of your business," he growled at her.  She blinked
innocently.
     "Since when is my sister's welfare none of my business?" she asked
acerbically.
     "Since when do you care?" Ranma shot back.  He noted her expression
flicker, and pressed the advantage.  "For that matter, what was all that
yesterday about Kunou?  It isn't like you to care about somebody if
there's nothing in it for you, Nabiki."  Her eyes hardened, but her
expression remained cool.
     "Since when would you know what is or is not "like me", eh, Ranma?"
she asked.  He was surprised to hear a trace of bitterness in her voice.
"Anyway, I don't know how you couldn't at least be curious about what's
going on with him.  The guy showed up with a magic glowing sword, aren't
you at all interested in the story behind that?"
     "I've had other things on my mind," he said defensively.  She
stared at him flatly for a moment.
     "Like Akane, one hopes?"
     "Look, Nabiki, I'm doing my best with her, all right?" he snapped.
"Things are more complicated than you think!  And I haven't noticed that
you're any better at managing a love life than I am!"  He expected her
to be angered, or at least irritated, by that.  Oddly, she just stared
at him for a moment, then gave a small laugh.
     "Touche, Saotome," she said dryly.  "A point for you."  He scowled.
     "Look, Nabiki, I know you probably think I'm a jerk, but I'm trying
to make things better between me and Akane!"
     "You'd better, Saotome," she said seriously, surprising him yet
again.  "Because you could end up with nothing but regrets."  Then she
walked off, leaving a puzzled Ranma behind.
     What was with her lately, anyway?  Granted, it had been a pretty
traumatic week all around, but Nabiki was the last person he'd have
expected to be affected.  Still, whatever her problem was, he didn't
have time to worry about it.
     Just as he'd told her, he had other things on his mind.  Quite a
few other things, and they were beginning to threaten to overwhelm him.
He figured it was time he started dealing with some of his backlog of
problems.
     One at a time, he corrected himself as he slipped behind a tree to
avoid the figure walking out the front doors.  Ukyou looked around,
tugging irritably at the collar of her boy's uniform, then walked off,
looking unhappy.
     Sorry, Uc-chan, Ranma said silently.  One problem at a time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Akane stomped along the sidewalk, staring intently at her feet,
swinging her bag in short, vicious arcs.  She wasn't in the best state
of mind to visit Kunou, she knew, but she'd decided it was necessary,
and unlike *some* people she was capable of making a decision and
sticking to it.
     She couldn't believe Ranma hadn't even showed up after school to go
with her.  She'd have refused to talk to him, of course, but he hadn't
even showed up, so she'd been denied her chance.  That made her even
angrier.  By the time she reached the edge of the school property, her
temper was roiling like a white-hot sun.
     So of course, Ranma picked *that* moment to show up.
     She saw him as she rounded the corner, lounging against the wall,
looking deceptively calm.  She stomped toward him without even
acknowledging his presence.
     "Akane ..." he began.
     "I am NOT speaking to you!" she snapped, tossing her head in what
she hoped was an appropriately haughty manner as she passed by.  The
whole effect was ruined, however, by Ranma scooping her up and leaping
easily over the wall.  She gave out a startled squeak as they crested
the wall and landed gently on the other side, shielded from view by the
high wall and a small grove of trees.  She gritted her teeth in fury as
she finally managed to regain her composure.
     "Just what do you think you're DOING?" she growled, twisting to
look into Ranma's face.  "Put me down!"
     "Do I have to?" he asked gently, and she was surprised to see that
he looked genuinely regretful at the prospect.  Nevertheless, he set her
easily on her feet, stepping back as she hastily straightened out her
uniform skirt.
     "Akane."  She looked up, angry words poised to spring from her
mouth.  "I want to talk to you about today.  Please, just listen for a
minute.  After, if you still want to hit me, I'll go and find you a big
mallet.  Okay?"  Her anger reined in somewhat, still simmering but no
longer boiling.
     "Talk," she said curtly, trying to ignore the effect his gentle
expression was having on her.
     "You were only partly right when you were talking about why I was
acting so strangely about everyone since ... that day.  I admit, I am
feeling a little guilty about Kodachi, but that's not all.  Akane, I
meant what I said that night.  I do love you.  I just don't think you've
thought about what that means."  She stood still, feeling the playful
breeze eddying easily around her, his words lancing her anger, letting
the hot fury drain away painlessly.
     "What do you mean?" she asked, almost plaintively.
     "You remember how Uc-chan was that day everyone was at the dojo for
supper?  After she came back from Ucchan's with Ranko?"  Akane nodded.
"You know why she was like that, don't you?"  She did.  She'd overheard
Ranko and Ranma talking about it.
     "Ranko told her he couldn't love her," Akane said softly, not
understanding.  Ranma nodded, his eyes full of sorrow.
     "Yeah.  He told me later that he'd owed her that.  I finally know
what he meant."
     "Ranma, I don't understand!" Akane cried, exasperated.  "What does
that have to do with ..."
     "Akane, remember how I told you I was afraid to change things?" he
pushed on, his voice quiet and intense.  "Well, I still am.  But ... now
that things are out in the open between us, things *are* going to
change.  They have to.  And I know I can't just sit back and wait for
everybody to realize that things have changed.  I'm going to have to
have that same talk with Uc-chan that Ranko had, and it's going to hurt
her badly.  Shampoo, too, after all she's been through.  And Kunou.
How's he going to take it when I'm walking around, happy with the girl I
love, and his sister is cold and dead because she loved me?"  Akane felt
a cold shock running over her, through her, and she finally understood.
     "Ranma, that's what this was all about?"  He smiled at her sadly.
     "Come on, Akane.  Don't you think I want to be with you, be *near*
you, all the time now?  Especially after I came so close to losing you.
But I didn't want anybody to know yet.  I want Uc-chan and Shampoo to
hear it from me first.  I owe them that.  And Kunou ..."  She'd heard
enough.  She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, and
leaned her head against his chest, squeezing him tightly.  She could
hear his heart beating, a regular, comforting thrum, as he wrapped his
arms around her in return and sighed into her ear.
     "I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered.  "I've been putting this off
because of what happened, but I know now that there's never going to be
a good time.  I've got to do it soon.  Kunou first, I guess."
     "Ranma, why didn't you just tell me all this?" she asked, leaning
back a little so she could look up into his blue-gray eyes.  She
realized now that the sorrow that filled those eyes was not for himself,
but for the others that would be hurt by what he had to tell them.
     "Aw, you know I'm no good at talking about stuff like this," he
said self-consciously, and suddenly he was awkward again, not meeting
her glance.  She gave him a gentle shake.
     "Hey.  People that love each other help each other, right?  From
now on, if something like this is bothering you, you should come to me.
We can face things like this together, you know."  He blinked at her,
surprised, then smiled shyly.
     "Really?" he asked in a tone that made her heart break sweetly.
She smiled back.
     "Yes, really."  They stood in the sun-dappled shade of the trees,
just looking at each other, and then Ranma bent down, and she raised her
chin slightly, and they kissed, a warm, sweet, innocent kiss that stole
her breath away and left her glad she was holding on to Ranma.
Otherwise, she didn't think her legs would have held her up.
     Finally, he pulled back, his gaze turning sombre.
     "I'm glad you're going to see Kunou with me," he said.
     "I'll always be there for you, Ranma.  I promise.  Always, no
matter what."  He smiled then, and his smile washed over her like the
warmth of the late spring sun.
     "I'm glad," he said.  "Cause I need you, Akane Tendou."  She pulled
away reluctantly, and he let her go, their gazes still locked.
     "Come on," she said with a sigh.  "We'd better go do this before it
gets too late."
     Together, they bounded back over the fence and set out for the
Kunou estate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     "Remember me?"  The woman looked up from the her drink, looking
faintly puzzled.  The hotel restaurant wasn't very busy, and Nabiki
could hear the faint sounds of traffic from the street below.
     "I'm sorry, I don't ..." the woman said tentatively.
     "From yesterday, Mrs. Kunou," she pressed gently.  The woman
coloured slightly then, turning back to her drink.
     "Oh.  Yes, I remember.  I told you, I don't go by that name
anymore."  Nabiki sat down across the small table from the other woman
without being invited, and pulled a sheaf of papers from her book bag.
     "But you could.  You and your husband never got a divorce, did
you?"  Mrs. Kunou's grip on her glass tightened, but she said nothing,
and Nabiki went on blithely.
     "You live in Yokohama, work in a small retail store, live alone ...
Should I go on, Mrs. Kunou?"
     "What do you want?" she asked, her voice dull, lifeless.  Nabiki
leaned across the table, crossing her arms.
     "You said that your son was in danger.  I'm trying to figure out
why, and if we can help him.  I always thought I knew all about the
Kunou family, but now I see that I didn't know anything.  For instance,
I never knew that there was another Kunou sibling.  Kazuhiro."  She said
the name softly, but the other woman still jerked as if she'd been
struck, and Nabiki felt a sudden twinge of conscience.  Firming her
resolve, she pushed on.
     "Someone who owes me a favour is good with computers.  You'd be
surprised what someone like that can learn.  On Kazuhiro's death
certificate, for instance, the cause of death was listed as trauma from
an animal attack.  A dog."  Mrs. Kunou held her glass up to the light,
looking at the light filtering through the brownish liquid.  Then, in
one smooth motion, she downed it and waved the empty glass in the air.
A waiter arrived with a fresh drink, looking at Nabiki questioningly.
She waved him off and he left.  Then she turned her attention back to
Mrs. Kunou, who was giving her new drink the same sort of rapt attention
she'd given its predecessor.
     "Lies," she said finally, her voice so hoarse that at first Nabiki
wasn't sure she'd spoken.
     "I'm sorry?"
     "Lies.  All lies.  We couldn't even keep dogs on the estate.  They
refused to cross the threshold.  Smarter than humans."  She downed half
of her new drink at one go, slamming the glass on the table with a gasp.
     "Lies," she repeated.  "But when you have money, and power, the
truth is mutable.  I learned that very quickly.  Did you know my
daughter?"  Nabiki was taken off-guard by the sudden change of topic.
     "What?  Kodachi?  Well, yes, sort of.  She went to an all-girl's
school ..."  Mrs. Kunou waved her hand impatiently.
     "Yes, I know that.  Do you know how she died?  Will you tell me?"
The older woman's eyes met Nabiki's then, naked and vulnerable, burning
with need, silently pleading.  Nabiki sat back, uncomfortable.  She'd
come here to get information, not give it.  And it wasn't as though the
story was all that believable.
     "I don't think ..." she began.
     "Please.  Please, I need to know.  You're the only one I can turn
to.  The *official* version will be nothing but lies, and Tatewaki won't
..."  She broke off, her voice thick with unshed tears.  Nabiki
remembered watching her in the garden, hearing her son telling her that
he had no mother.
     "Mrs. Kunou ..."
     "Call me Yukio.  I haven't been Mrs. Kunou for quite some time."
She looked at Nabiki then, her eyes bright with tears, and Nabiki
nodded.
     "Very well.  Yukio.  She was helping fight against some very bad
... people.  She was trying to help someone else when she was killed.
That's really all I know."  Nabiki fought the urge to squirm in her
chair.  It was only a little lie, and for Yukio's own sake, really.  The
older woman's next question caught her off-guard.
     "Who did it?  Who killed her?"  Oh, boy, Nabiki thought.  This
isn't what I had in mind, not at all.
     "I, uh, don't ..." Nabiki started.  Yukio pinned her with an
intense glare, something dark and mad flitting behind her eyes, and for
a moment she was the very incarnation of her daughter.  And Nabiki, for
the first time, felt a faint stirring of unease, felt that maybe this
woman might be more than a grief-stricken mother.  She might be
dangerous.
     Her next statement confirmed it.
     "Was it monsters?  Did Tatewaki tell the truth?"  Nabiki leaned
back in her chair, watching the other woman warily.  It HAD been
monsters, of course, but Yukio couldn't know about them.  Nabiki watched
in horrified fascination as the other woman leaned forward, her dark
eyes burning with anger, the way Kodachi's often had.
     "Did the monsters finally kill my daughter?" she asked, and Nabiki
knew she was in way over her head.  Finally?  The monsters *had* come to
Nerima that fateful day, but that was a somewhat unique situation.  She
was unstable, Nabiki suddenly decided.  The whole family was wacko,
after all; she shouldn't have expected the mother to be any different.
     "She was very brave," Nabiki said softly, trying to deflect the
woman's sudden unfocussed rage.  Yukio blinked, and her anger drained
away in an instant, leaving her looking small and vulnerable.
     "Brave," she whispered forlornly.  She picked up her half-empty
drink, her hand shaking so badly that some of the brownish liquid
slopped onto her hand, and threw it back in one neat motion.  Nabiki
took note of the flush in her cheeks and realized that Yukio was, if not
drunk, well on her way.  It seemed unlikely she was going to get any of
the answers she wanted today.  She was considering the best way to slip
away when Yukio spoke again.
     "They were all cursed with bravery, my children.  When the dark
came for Kodachi, that first time, it was Kazuhiro who saved her, at
cost of his own life.  He was brave, much braver than I.  And they
killed him for it."  She raised her eyes from her empty glass, and
Nabiki could see more unshed tears shimmering in their depths.
     "He was only a little boy," she whispered, imploring Nabiki to
understand.  "I wanted to leave, but my husband refused to abandon his
obligation to guard the estate, the ... *he* has to stay, but not us!  I
told him not to put them in danger, his oaths weren't worth what *they*
did to Kazuhiro, nothing was!  Let them have the place, what could it
matter?"  Nabiki struggled to follow what she was being told.  Yukio was
at least a little unhinged, she decided, and a lot drunk.  Still, there
might be some kernel of truth in her ramblings.
     "Yukio, I don't understand," she said softly, trying to steer the
woman back on track.  Yukio shook her head wearily.
     "I tried to take them, anyway.  The dark had marked us that night,
and I knew it would return.  So I tried to take my other two babies, but
he caught me, and cast me out.  He had money, and influence, and I had
nothing.  A stronger woman, a braver one, might have found a way, but I
never did."  Tears coursed silently down her cheeks now.  "The dark has
come for two of my children now, and soon it will come for Tatewaki.  I
know it.  It's starting all over again, just like before."  She lowered
her head, clasping her empty glass tightly like it was her only anchor
in a storm of uncertainty.
     "He'll die if he stays there, and I don't know what to do," she
whispered.  Nabiki shook her head.  This was no good.  Yukio wasn't
making any sense, and Nabiki knew it would be pointless to ask any of
the questions she'd planned to ask.  There were treacherous
cross-currents beneath the surface of the Kunou family, and they were
dragging Yukio down.  If Nabiki really wanted to know the truth about
the family's mysteries, she'd have to map some of those cross-currents
first.
     She reached into her bag and gently slid a card over to the older
woman's side of the table.
     "Yukio," she said gently.  She didn't respond.  "YUKIO."
     "Yes?"  Distant.
     "This card has my phone number on it.  I want you to take it.  When
you're feeling better, I'd like you to call me, okay?  I want to talk to
you about the family.  Would you do that?"  Yukio nodded absently but
didn't pick up the card, and one corner began to discolour as it soaked
up a small puddle of spilled drink.  Nabiki sighed inwardly.  It didn't
matter, really.  She could find Yukio easily enough with all the
information she'd gathered already.  She stood, looking down at the
other woman.  Yukio seemed lost, still staring at her glass, reeking of
cheap booze and desperation.  Nabiki slipped away quietly and found
herself outside the hotel, her mind humming.
     Secrets.  Whatever the truth about the Kunou family was, it was
well hidden.  Nobody, not even Nabiki herself, had had even an inkling
of any of this.  A brother, dead under mysterious circumstances, a
mother, kept from her family for years ... or had she abandoned them?
The truth was, as Yukio had noted, mutable, and Nabiki needed more facts
in order to decide what was true and what wasn't.
     Whatever the truth was, Nabiki found herself facing a huge, complex
puzzle.  Her personal schemes and plots began to appear pale and
insignificant in the face of it.  The prospect of untangling the twisted
skeins of truth and deception surrounding the Kunou clan engaged that
part of her that needed, that *craved* challenges like this.
     Nabiki felt a grin tugging at her lips as she strolled home along
the busy sidewalks, mingling with the after-work crowds.  Her blood
fairly buzzed with anticipation at the prospect of a challenge worthy of
her problem-solving talents.  She was no longer certain when she'd
decided, but she now knew that she had to find out what secrets lay at
the heart of the Kunou's twisted past.
     Being Nabiki, she never stopped to consider that some things are
best left undisturbed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Akane looked over her shoulder, giving Ranma one last smile of
encouragement.
     "Ready?" she asked.  He nodded, placing a comforting hand on her
shoulder.
     "Do it," he said.  She turned and knocked on the door.  Her heart
seemed to rise in her chest, hammering nervously as she heard faint
footsteps approaching the door.  Finally, it opened to reveal Kunou,
dressed in his usual Kendo outfit, carrying a sheathed katana in his
left hand.  He stared impassively at the uninvited guests, his face
revealing nothing, not even when he seemed to take note of the
proprietary way Ranma's hand rested on Akane's shoulder.
     "It appears I will have to fire another set of guards," he said at
last, his voice flat.
     "They didn't even see us," Ranma said defensively.  "We snuck in."
     "Then you'll be able to find your way back out again," Kunou shot
back, a hint of irritation finding its way into his voice.  Ranma
scowled, and Akane jumped in before things could progress any further.
     "Kunou-sempai," she said, clasping her hands nervously in front of
her, "I'm sorry we snuck in here, but we've been worried.  Nobody's seen
you since last Sunday, and now we hear that you're all alone here!"
Kunou's gaze shifted to her.
     "There are servants ..." he began.  Akane shook her head violently.
     I'm not talking about servants!  Who do you have to talk to?  Who
is there for you to share your grief with?  You and Kodachi came to help
us, to protect everybody in this city!  And now she's dead, and you're
alone, and it shouldn't have to be this way!  It's just not right, and
it's not fair!"  She stopped abruptly, finding herself on the verge of
tears, clenching her hands tightly, angry all over again at the
injustice of it all.  Ranma's hand squeezed her shoulder gently.
Kunou's expression softened ever so slightly, and when he spoke, there
was a trace of gentleness in his tone.
     "As ever, your heart is true, Akane Tendou.  It is easy to see why
I was so enamoured of you.  But listen to me carefully, I beg of you.  I
remain sequestered here for only a short time longer.  Once I am done
with my grieving, I shall return to Furinkan.  In the meantime, I ask
only that you do not return here.  Please."  She looked into his eyes,
seeing the sorrow buried there, and nodded wordlessly.
     "If ... if that's what you want," she said at last, her voice tiny.
     "It is what I need," he told her quietly.  "From everyone."  He
shifted his gaze over her shoulder to Ranma, and she stiffened, dreading
what would happen next.
     "Saotome."  His gaze was flat, emotionless again.
     "Kunou."  Ranma's expression wasn't exactly hostile, but he wasn't
very open either.
     "Your other, the one called Ranko, visited here before he left."
Akane hadn't known that; it was clear from Ranma's expression that he
had.  "He asked that I hold him, not you, responsible for what befell my
sister.  I find, however, that I cannot hold you completely blameless."
     "Kunou-sempai!" Akane gasped.  He held up his free hand sternly.
     "You and I, Saotome, share one burden.  We both failed Kodachi.  I
have no intention of seeking a confrontation with you, but it would be
prudent if our paths were not to cross any more than strictly
necessary."  Ranma stared at him silently for a long moment, then
nodded.
     "I understand," was all he said.  Kunou looked up at the sky.
     "The hour grows late.  You must leave now.  Please remember what I
said."  Ranma turned and started away, and Akane turned to follow, her
features sombre.
     "Akane Tendou."  She turned back, to see Kunou still standing
there, his face bathed in the light of the late afternoon sun.  "It ...
means much to me that you came.  I ... thank you."  She smiled then,
feeling her heart lift.
     "Don't forget you have friends, Kunou-sempai," she told him,
looking up into his shadowed eyes.  "You don't have to be alone."
     He looked sad then, and old.  "If only that were true," she heard
him mutter, then he closed the door gently, and she walked away, to
where Ranma was waiting.
     "Well, that went better than I expected it would," Ranma sighed.
"At least I didn't have to fight him.  I don't think I could've handled
that, after all the guy's been through.  You notice he's still carrying
that sword?"  She nodded silently, and Ranma noticed the tense set of
her shoulders.  He sighed.
     "Come on, Akane, we did all we could.  He just wants to be alone.
We can't make him accept our help, you know?"  She nodded.
     "He just seems so ... hurt.  Do you think he'll ever be like he was
before?"  It was clear from Ranma's face that he didn't consider that to
be a desirable option.
     "I don't know, Akane.  Really.  Maybe he just needs some time.  At
least we tried, though.  Come on, let's get home, okay?"  She nodded and
they began to wind their way through the trees to the point where they'd
jumped the wall.  Akane paused once to look back at the house, a small
crease appearing between her eyes.
     Now that she'd seen him, she hated the thought of leaving Kunou
alone more than ever.  But Ranma was right.
     There didn't seem to be anything they could do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Nabiki sighed and dropped her bag in the entryway.  She placed both
hands carefully on the small of her back and stretched, groaning with
pleasure as her back made tiny popping noises.  She'd been puzzling over
Kunou's mother's story all the way home, wondering what truths lay
buried in her words.  One thing was for certain.  Young Kazuhiro had
died an ugly death, and while Nabiki doubted that monsters were
involved, she wasn't at all convinced that a dog had killed that boy.
There *was* something here, something big.  She knew it.  She *felt* it.
She'd have to investigate further, find out more, before she could
decide where to go from here.
     She grinned to herself suddenly.  Find out more.  She was just the
person who could do that, if there was anything to find.  She'd unlock
this puzzle yet.
     "I'm home," she announced, wandering into the family room and
finding Akane perched in front of the television.
     "Hey, sis."
     "Nabiki, you missed supper again.  Kasumi saved you some, though."
     "Great."  Nabiki flopped down on the couch and sighed.  Akane
looked at her curiously.
     "What's up with you?" she asked.  Nabiki glanced over.
     "What do you mean?"
     "You seem ... I don't know.  Jazzed.  Worked up."  Nabiki grinned,
showing more enthusiasm than Akane was accustomed to seeing from her.
     "I'm working on something," she said casually.  Akane's expression
darkened.
     "Oh," she said, and Nabiki looked surprised, then stung by her
tone.
     "Hey, it's not like that!" she protested, her cheeks burning.
"This is something good, okay?  Geez!"  Akane blinked.
     "Really?  Nobody's going to get hurt because of this, are they?"
she asked gently.  Nabiki wanted to snap at her little sister, but she
knew Akane was thinking of what she'd done to Ranko, telling all of
Ranma's fiances about him before he was ready to confront them.  She
knew Akane had reason to be sceptical, but she was pretty sure that
there was nothing to worry about this time.  After all, she didn't know
that her poking around would actually hurt anybody.  And it didn't look
like things could be *worse* for the Kunou family.
     "Really, Akane," she said, her voice earnest.  "I'm into something
really big here, but I think something good may come out of it.
Actually, it's a really good feeling.  Maybe I'm losing my edge."  Akane
laughed at that, and Nabiki joined in.  It felt good to just sit on the
couch and laugh with her sister.  Things felt more normal than they had
for the past week.
     "Well, I'm glad to hear it," Akane said.  "I know when you get your
teeth into something, nothing can stop you."  Nabiki felt strangely
touched by Akane's expression of confidence.  She nudged her with her
elbow just below the ribs.
     "You should talk, little sister.  What's going on between you and
Ranma, huh?"  Akane gaped at her and Nabiki laughed again.
     "Me and ... why would ... I don't ..."
     "Oh, VERY smooth, Akane.  C'mon, you two have hardly fought all
week.  The clarion cry of "Uncute tomboy" has not been heard within
these walls for so long, I almost miss it, and our wall repair bills
have dropped off to nothing!  Did something happen?  C'mon, spill the
beans!"
     "Yes, by all means Akane," Kasumi said, draping herself elegantly
over the back of the couch between them.  Akane started, surprised by
her sudden appearance.
     "Hey, you guuuuuys ..." she protested.  Kasumi smiled at her
benignly.
     "All the juicy details, please," she said.  Akane sighed and Nabiki
knew she would cave in.  She'd probably been aching to talk to someone
about it all week.  And Nabiki needed to talk about something sane,
rational and cheerful just then.  In the worst way.
     "We had a long talk the night before ... you know.  The night
before.  Up on the roof."
     "And?" Nabiki pressed.  A crimson flush spread across the bridge of
Akane's pert nose, staining both cheeks.
     "He told me he loves me," she said, pressing the tips of her index
fingers together shyly.  Both sisters gasped.
     "Ranma *Saotome*?  Wears Chinese shirts and has a pig-tail?" Nabiki
asked.  "That Ranma?"
     "Akane, that's wonderful!" Kasumi gasped.  Nabiki found that her
slight twinge of jealousy at Akane's good fortune was overwhelmed by
sheer happiness.
     "You can't tell Dad or Mr. Saotome yet, though!" Akane said,
suddenly sounding alarmed.  Nabiki grinned.
     "Your secret's safe with us.  So sis, tell us more.  How'd you get
him to say the words?  I can't imagine Ranma actually saying that!
Tell, tell!"  Akane's blush deepened, something Nabiki hadn't thought
possible.
     "Well, I was tired of the way things were, you know, with all the
fiances trying to decide who got Ranma and who got Ranko and ... and it
was twice as bad as before.  Everyone seemed to be getting hurt, and I
was tired of it.  So I went to confront Ranma.  I didn't think I was
going to go as far as I did, but finally, it came down to me needing
Ranma to talk about what was between us.  When he wouldn't, I decided to
just ... let go.  I was actually walking away, I was this close to
giving up on him.  You'll never know how close we came.  But ..."
     "But?" Kasumi asked, looking for once like an eager schoolgirl, and
not the most responsible member of the household.
     "He stopped me.  At the last moment, he caught me and wouldn't let
go.  It was so hard for him to talk about it, but ... oh, it was so
SWEET.  You should have seen him.  He talked about his childhood, his
fears about changing things here ..."
     "Wait a minute.  Ranma said these things?" Nabiki asked in
disbelief.  Akane smiled dreamily, staring at the floor.
     "Uh-huh.  And then he said everything would be all right because he
loved me.  I remember that moment, everything about it.  I'll remember
it for the rest of my life."  They sat there for a moment, Akane pulling
a plush cushion from the corner of the couch and hugging it tightly to
her chest, pulling her knees up.
     "And then you kissed.  Please tell me there was a kiss," Nabiki
pleaded.  Akane buried her face in the pillow, drummed her heels against
the edge of the couch, and nodded frantically.  Her sisters squealed
with delight.
     "All right, Akane!" Kasumi said, in a manner so unlike herself that
for a moment Nabiki thought she'd said that herself.  Akane leaned back,
still embracing the pillow, and sighed deeply.
     "I'd been dreaming of that moment for so long, and it was so
perfect.  It was everything I thought it would be."  She buried her face
in the pillow again.  "I'm in LOVE!" she squeaked.
     "And you waited this long to tell us," Kasumi scolded her.  Akane's
joyful posture relaxed somewhat, and Nabiki tensed.
     "Well, after Kodachi died and Ranko left, things weren't going so
well," she said softly.
     "I saw you at lunch today, Akane, and you looked pretty upset,"
Nabiki said.  She remembered how Ranma had told her he was trying to
make things better, and how she'd actually believed him.  "Things go
wrong already?"
     "Things are never simple where Akane and Ranma are concerned,"
Kasumi mused, sounding worried.  Akane looked up and shook her head.
     "No, it's not like that!" she protested.  "I mean ... okay.  After
the fight, Ranma seemed to pull back from me a little.  At first I
thought it was natural, but then I started to worry, and today we fought
about it.  But later, he explained everything to me.  You remember how
depressed Ukyou was that night we all had dinner here?"  They both
nodded.  "Well, that was because Ranko talked to her, told her he didn't
love her so she could let him go.  Ranma really does love me."  She
looked at the cushion softly, her lips curving up in a dreamy smile.
     "He really does," she continued after a moment.  "And he knows that
he has to have the same talk with Ukyou that Ranko had, and with Shampoo
too.  He doesn't want to hurt them, but he's finally going to tell them
once and for all that we love each other."
     "Oh, Akane, I hope things work out," Kasumi said happily, gently
squeezing Akane's shoulder.
     "Yeah, but what about you?  Won't Ryouga be crushed?" Nabiki asked,
suppressing another twinge of jealousy at her sister's multiple suitors.
Akane blushed again.
     "I overheard Ranma and Ranko talking one time.  Ryouga decided to
give up on me on his own."  She glared at Nabiki.  "And I didn't even
know that he liked me!  If you knew, you could have said something!"
Nabiki gave her sister a put-upon sigh.
     "Geez, you're dense sometimes, Akane.  Everybody knew that Ryouga
had a major thing for you.  I can't believe that you never noticed!"
     "I had other things on my mind!" she shot back.
     "And what about Kunou-baby ..." Nabiki started to say, then froze.
Akane's smile faded.
     "We saw him today, Ranma and I.  We talked to him."  She turned to
her sisters, her face grave.  "He said he would be okay, but ... he's
changed so much.  I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the old
Kunou."  Nabiki knew exactly what she meant.  Her glimpse of Kunou in
the garden had bothered her more than she would have believed possible.
     "I feel guilty, being so happy," Akane said at last.  "I mean,
after everything that happened, I get to be happy.  It feels wrong,
somehow."
     "No!" Nabiki said intensely.  "It's not wrong, Akane!  You fought
to be happy, to have what you have!  You have the right to enjoy it!
None of what happened is your fault, remember that!"  Nabiki broke off
when she realized that the other two were looking at her strangely.
     "Geez, where did that come from?" she asked weakly.  A warm smile
lit up Akane's face and she leaned over and trapped Nabiki in a tight
bear-hug.
     "You're right, sis!  I gotta try to learn to just be happy!"
Nabiki patted Akane's shoulders awkwardly.
     "Urgh.  Good, Akane.  Now let me breathe, okay?"  Akane loosened
her grip sheepishly, and they all laughed again.
     "That's better," Kasumi said.  "There's been too much gloom around
here this past week and a half.  Let's talk about happy things for a
change."
     "Yeah, getting back to you and your hunk-meister ..." Nabiki
teased.  Akane blushed again.  God, this is TOO easy, Nabiki thought
gleefully.
     "More details about the kissing," Kasumi urged, leaning forward
with anticipation on her face.  Nabiki was surprised at how much Kasumi
was enjoying this.  For that matter, she was enjoying it quite a bit
herself.  It had been too long since the three had talked like this.
     Just then, Ranma walked into the room on his way to the kitchen.
The girls fell silent, turning in unison to look at him.  His stride
faltered as he became aware that he was the centre of attention.
     "Um, what?" he asked, puzzled.  All three girls were wearing
secretive smiles.
     "Nothing, Ranma," Kasumi said in her most innocent voice.
     "Just talking," Nabiki added breezily.
     "Right.  Talking," Akane clarified.  He began to look a little
unnerved by the intensity of their attention.
     "Oh," he said lamely.  They continued to stare, Akane blushing,
Nabiki and Kasumi directing almost identical looks of frank appraisal
his way.  Ranma squirmed.
     "Well, I gotta go ... do that thing that I gotta ... go do.  Bye!"
He left, trying not to look as if he was hurrying and failing miserably.
A gale of feminine laughter erupted in his wake.
     "Oh, my," Kasumi gasped at last.  "Poor Ranma."
     "Aw, he'll live," Nabiki said dryly.  She turned to a still
giggling Akane.  "Now, Akane, the subject was kissing, I believe.  You
and Ranma.  Details.  First time, and I'm not talking about that time he
thought he was a cat.  Go."  Akane had retrieved her cushion and was
once more squeezing it in the grip of death.
     "Well, the first time I actually started it ..." she began.  Her
sisters giggled uncontrollably.
     "That figures," Nabiki gasped.  Akane flushed bright crimson and
buried her face in the cushion.
     "Ranma's always been a little slow," Kasumi giggled.  "So, Akane,
how did you start?"
     "Well, we were on the roof, and I was crying because he'd just told
me he loved me.  I was hugging him, and I told him I loved him too.  The
look on his face when I said that!  Oh, it was *incredible*!  I reached
my hand up and ran my fingers up his neck, behind his ear and into his
hair ..."
     "Yeah?  And then?"
     "Well, then I ..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Ranma strolled out into the garden, having liberated some leftovers
from the kitchen.  He heard another burst of laughter from inside the
house, followed by Kasumi's scandalized voice crying, "Akane!  Did you
REALLY?!"
     He frowned.  What the hell were they talking about in there,
anyway?  He sighed and walked over to the carp pond, absently stuffing
cold rice into his mouth as more faint squeals of laughter escaped from
the house.  He remembered the way the girls had looked at him, united by
some unspoken bond that had hung heavy in the air.
     "Women are SO weird," he sighed.  He wished he felt like laughing,
but frankly, he didn't.  He'd straightened things out with Akane, for
once, and she wasn't mad at him anymore.  Still, he had to face the
prospect of having a heart-to-heart talk with Uc-chan and Shampoo.
     He dreaded the prospect of breaking Uc-chan's heart.  He'd already
seen what effect Ranko's talk had had on her, but he knew finally that
his counterpart had been right.  Uc-chan was his oldest and dearest
friend, but she loved him and he didn't love her, and he owed it to her
to make that plain once and for all.  But she'd cry, and he hated the
thought of being the one that made her cry.  Hated it.
     Shampoo was another matter altogether.  She'd probably cry, too,
but she'd also get mad, and it was entirely possible that violence would
follow.  Ranma didn't know what he'd do if she wanted to fight him.
Shampoo was a girl of deep passions, and she was unlikely to take this
lying down.  He wondered if Mousse could help him.
     He sighed again, looking at the still surface of the pond, smooth
as glass in the warm, still evening air.  He fancied he saw the
reflection of a cute red-haired girl there, but of course the reflection
was his own.  Ponds have no sense of the dramatic.
     And Kodachi.  If she'd lived, he would have had to have this talk
with her as well.  He reminisced about her antics almost fondly, now
that she was gone, but the truth was she had been pretty scary at times.
But gone she was.  He only had to think of Kunou to be reminded of that.
     At least his talk with Kunou hadn't been anywhere near the disaster
it could have been.  He had pretty much told Ranma to stay out of his
way, but that didn't bother Ranma at all.  He had no particular desire
to be around Kunou at the best of times.  And in particular, he
remembered Kunou telling Akane how he "had" been enamoured of her.  Past
tense.  Maybe things on that front would actually be easier now.
     He crouched down and dipped his fingers into the glassy surface of
the pool, staring raptly as the ripples spreading out from his
fingertips fluidly shattering his reflection.  It wasn't enough to
trigger the change, he knew that from experience.  Closing his eyes, he
remembered Kunou's face when he'd demanded Kodachi's body, remembered
him walking off alone.  Whatever lived behind Kunou's eyes had gone far
away that day, and remained untouchable, even now.  Maybe Akane was
right, Ranma thought.  Maybe Kunou did need help.  Ranma was pretty
sure, however, that whatever came to pass, he was one person Kunou would
not be looking to for that help.
     Still, Kunou was a big boy.  He'd decided to take care of things on
his own, for whatever reason, and they really had no choice but to let
him be.
     He was shaken from his reverie by another burst of laughter
drifting from the house, and his mouth quirked into a small grin in
spite of his mood.  It was good to hear laughter around the dojo again.
Maybe this was a sign that things were finally going to get better.  He
sighed and stood, tossing his empty bowl into the air and catching it
neatly on one outstretched foot, then kicking it up so he could grab it
again, his actions lazy and graceful.  Then he retrieved his chopsticks
and headed slowly back into the house.
     He wanted to join in with the general good mood, but he had a
feeling that he wasn't going to be doing too much laughing in the next
couple of days.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The moon rode high in the clear night sky, shadow eating half of
it's scabrous face.  Tatewaki Kunou knelt in the centre of his room,
sheathed weapon lying crossways on the mat in front of him, eyes closed,
bathed in its light.  To any observer he would have appeared calm, but
that appearance was a mere facade.  His gut was wound tightly into a
twisted knot, and the same thought kept returning again and again.
     It will be tonight.  It will be tonight.  It will.
     He sighed imperceptibly.  He hoped he was wrong, but knew in his
heart that he was not.  The worst would come to pass.  It was his fate,
it seemed, to have to face the worst.  His hands tightened slightly.
     So be it.
     Then his breathing shifted with the awareness that he was no longer
alone.  It wasn't one of the servants; they had been quartered off the
estate grounds for some time now.  He lifted the sheathed katana in his
left hand, bracing his thumb against the underside of the hilt's
cross-piece and pushing it loose so that a thumb's length of blade was
revealed.
     The blade was glowing.
     He stared into the deep blue light.  You are my bearer now, it
seemed to say.  The responsibility is yours.  The burden is yours.
Fulfill your duty, Tatewaki Kunou.
     You know what you must do.
     Yes, he knew.  And for a moment, he faltered.
     But only for a moment.
     "Master!"  The voice hissed from outside his window, and Kunou
sheathed the blade fully once more.
     "Yes, Sasuke?" he asked calmly.
     "Master, come outside!  Quickly!  I have found out something you
should know!"  Kunou stood easily, striding over to the window and
opening it.  He vaulted out of the house, landing easily on the cool
grass.
     Sasuke was nowhere to be seen.  As a ninja, however, he would be in
the shadows.  It was second nature.  Kunou moved away from the house,
cocking his head slightly.
     "I am here, Sasuke.  What would you tell me?"  Kunou saw nothing,
heard nothing, but suddenly he was moving, springing into the air,
twisting to land facing the spot where he'd just been standing, the spot
where several shuriken now quivered in the trunk of a nearby tree.  He
back-tracked the trajectory with his eyes, picking out a patch of shadow
from the surrounding dark.  A black clothed figure eased out of the
shadow, stopping in the pale moonlight.  Its head twitched once,
convulsively.  It moved strangely, its joints seemed almost to be in the
wrong places, and its skin was an unhealthy gray tone, contrasting
against the sullen red glow of its eyes.
     It was Sasuke.  And yet it was not.
     "Hello, old friend," Kunou said softly.  "I've been expecting you."
The thing's lips pulled back from its mouth, revealing stained teeth.
     "Guardian," it hissed.  It was Sasuke's voice.  And yet it was not.
     The little ninja had degenerated badly after Kazuhiro's death, much
like Kunou's own father.  In later days, he was reduced to a shadow of
his former self, but he deserved better than this.  He deserved a clean
death over this ... abomination.  Kunou's grip tightened on the sheath
as he raised it slowly, holding it crossways in front of him.  Now that
his fears had been realized, he was possessed of a glacial calm.  He
knew what had to be done.
     "Guardian, you are the last," the Sasuke-thing said, twitching
again, ripples moving under its skin.  "Flee, and you may live."
Kunou's expression didn't change.
     "You went into the caves, didn't you Sasuke?  Even after I forbade
you to.  Why?  Did you sense what was coming?"  The thing snarled,
shifting with inhuman fluid grace, its hateful glare fixed on Kunou.
     "Did you?" he repeated softly.  "They came for Kodachi that time,
and you were not able to protect her.  Although it was not your fault,
your absence cost Kazuhiro his life.  His death weighed heavy on you,
did it not?  And you wanted to protect Kodachi this time.  That is why
you sought them out."  The thing twitched again, and Kunou wrapped his
right hand around the katana's hilt, his other hand gripping the sheath
just below the hilt's cross-piece.  He wondered if anything of Sasuke
was left in there to hear him.
     Smoothly, he drew the sword, dropping the sheath on the grass.  The
blade blazed with light, illuminating the surrounding area with an eerie
blue-white glow.  The Sasuke-thing quailed, but did not fall back.
Enshrouded within Sasuke's physical form, the thing could stand the
blade's holy light.  Long, wickedly sharp claws burst forth from its
fingertips, greenish ichor dripping from their points.  Kunou adopted a
stance, the blade held high and parallel to the ground.
     "YIELD!" the Sasuke-thing screeched, enraged.
     "You have always served our family faithfully, Sasuke Sarugakure.
Come to me, and receive the light.  Come to me and be set free."  The
Sasuke-thing's eyes locked on the blade, and for a moment it faltered.
     "Free?" a voice whispered.  Kunou felt white-hot rage threaten to
overwhelm him at that moment.  Sasuke *was* still there, still aware.
The bastards.  He drew in a deep breath as the creature tore its gaze
angrily away from the light, its eyes glowing balefully.
     Kunou was unnaturally still.  It would all be over soon.  One way
or another, the fight wouldn't last long.
     The Sasuke-thing was a blur of movement, and Kunou reacted without
thought.  They collided and sprang apart, Kunou deflecting several
throwing spikes, his blade a blazing arc of fire as he spun.  They came
together again and Kunou's howl rang out over the Sasuke-thing's snarls.
Kunou felt a fiery pain in his side as he committed himself to his
attack.
     The Sasuke-thing's claws were buried deep in Kunou's left side,
below the ribs.  Kunou could no longer see the blade of his sword.
     It was buried, up to the hilt, in his opponent's chest.
     The Sasuke-thing quivered, then gagged as green fluid began to pour
from its ears, nose and mouth.  Its claws pulled away from Kunou's side,
and he was dimly aware of the pain as he lowered the diminutive ninja to
the cool, soft grass.  He used his free hand to cradle the stricken
ninja's head.  He couldn't lay him flat because of the glowing blade
that protruded from his back, and he wasn't willing to remove the sword.
Not yet.
     "Sasuke?" he asked softly as the glow in the little man's eyes
guttered and died.  Red was mixed with the green flowing out of Sasuke's
body now, and his limbs stirred weakly.
     "Master," he croaked.  "I failed you.  I'm ... sorry ..."
     "Hush, old friend.  It doesn't matter."
     "Held them ... back ... long as I ... *cough* ... could ..."
     "I know," Kunou said gently.  "I know you did.  You can rest now,
Sasuke.  You have earned it.  Kazuhiro and Kodachi will be waiting for
you."  The creatures would have tortured him with the knowledge of
Kodachi's death, he knew.  He saw grief on the little man's face then,
not for himself, whose pain was nearly ended, but for his master, whose
burdens now must be carried alone.
     You are the last, it had said.  The last.
     "Master," he coughed, reaching up to stem the blood seeping from
Kunou's wounded side with his hand.  "Guardian."  Then he smiled.
     And was gone.
     His hand fell away, and Kunou suddenly had trouble swallowing.
     "Sasuke?"  There would be no answer, he knew.  Carefully, he
withdrew the blade from Sasuke's chest.  It no longer glowed, merely
glinting dully in the silent silver light of the moon where it was not
coated with slime and gore.  He lay the sword on the grass and eased
Sasuke's body onto the ground, arranging his limbs neatly, feeling a hot
stinging in his eyes, a tightening around his heart.
     He told himself that it did not befit a warrior to cry.  And yet,
at that moment, he was just Tatewaki Kunou, seventeen years old.  And
now he was all alone.  The tears clouded his vision as he knelt beside
Sasuke's body.
     "I swear I will make them pay, Sasuke.  For you, and Kazuhiro, and
Kodachi.  There will be a reckoning."  His voice shook, and he leaned
back, eyes closed futilely against the tears, and drew a painful breath.
     "THERE WILL BE A RECKONING!  DO YOU HEAR ME?  I SWEAR IT!!" he
screamed, his raw voice shattering the still of the night.
     The only reply was a faint sound that might have been mad laughter,
but was probably only the wind rustling in the trees.
     Probably.


End part two.

Well, that's it for this volume of the CASL series.  What did you think?
Let me know!  E-mail thoughts, suggestions, criticisms or whatever to:
emmack@ibm.net
Revised Sept. 1/97