Chapter 2 - Perchance to Dream

   The silence around the dining room table was an interesting 
blend. There was disbelief in it, and awkwardness. Horror and 
shock vied with pity and sympathy. Tension made up a large 
part of the mix.

   Then Kasumi returned with the tea, and blind optimism was 
added.

   "Cursed?" Soun said for the tenth time.

   Genma nodded. "We had gone in search of the fabled training 
grounds of Jyusenkyou..."

   Ranma looked up from his teacup. "_We_, Old Man? I recall 
havin' little to do with your decision."

   Genma glared at his son. "_We_ went in search of 
Jyusenkyou. And we found it." He sighed, and swirled his cup, 
watching the tea inside ripple. "We certainly found it..."

^_-

   "Oh, Honorable Sirs, please be careful! Very bad to fall in 
pools!"

   Neither Ranma nor Genma heard. The Art filled them. The 
world was irrelevant.

   "I'll not go easy on you, boy!" 

   His son replied with the look of contempt Genma had come to 
expect, and leaped from pole to pole, searching for the right 
spot to attack from.

   Genma felt the familiar mix of pride, sorrow, guilt, and fear 
settle over him. Pride, because his son was the best 
practitioner of the Art Genma had ever seen, a natural. Sorrow, 
because of the other things his son was. Guilt, because all of it 
was his fault, his and his alone, and not even a man as lacking 
in responsibility as Genma could fail to recognize this.

   And fear, because there would come a day when Ranma had 
learned everything he could from Genma, when there would be 
no more techniques and forms and katas left to teach. And 
then...

   He forced his mind back to the present, and buried his 
emotions under the wall of platitudes he had built. He'll get 
better. He loves his father. The training is all. 

   Ranma jumped, and Genma rose to meet him. As usual, 
neither managed to land a blow. The fat Chinese fellow was 
shouting something, but that didn't matter. Nothing outside 
mattered.

   Again, the leap. Block. Strike. Land. 

   On the fifth pass, Ranma made a mistake.

   He could have tried the Falling Cherry Blossom, which 
probably would have knocked Genma off the pole. Instead, he 
tried Steam Rises From The Cup, which would have broken 
Genma's ribs had it connected.

   Genma used one of the few counters he had been keeping back 
just in case, and Ranma instead went flying into one of the 
pools, landing with a tremendous splash. That would teach the 
boy respect towards his elders! You had to get up pretty early 
in the morning to beat Saotome Genma! He grinned, thinking of 
the lecture he would be able to give his son on not being 
prepared for unexpected defenses.

   The guide was clucking sadly, and shaking his head. Ranma 
surfaced, and...

   Why was his son's hair red?

   "Oh, too bad. You fall in Spring of Drowned Girl. Very tragic 
story..."

   Ranma ripped open his shirt in horror. Genma nearly fainted, 
and made very, very sure his balance on the pole was secure. 
His son was a daughter! The shame! How would he face Nodoka!

   "...fall in spring take body of young girl!"

   Ranma leaped out of the pool, a look of helpless rage in her 
eyes. Genma prepared to run for his life; but no, she was 
approaching the Guide....

   The Jyusenkyou Guide had a very unrewarding job. It mainly 
consisted of having people ignore his warnings and becoming 
cursed and upset; and he hadn't even been able to take that 
counseling course that would have allowed him to console the 
idiots more effectively. The pension plan was pretty miserable 
too. It was about to get much, much worse.

   Ranma casually kicked the man's legs out from under him, 
breaking his left arm in three places as he fell. Then she knelt 
down beside him.

   "How long before this wears off?"

   The Guide was too busy moaning in pain to answer. Ranma 
bent his arm a little to get his attention, noting the sharp 
fragment of bone beginning to pierce the skin. 

   "AAUghhh......No wear off...permaAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGGHHHH!!!"

   As the piece of bone broke through in a shower of red, Ranma 
smiled sweetly at him.  "How do I cure it?"

   "Please sir.....hot water....hot water turn you male....."

   She frowned, and slowly applied pressure. "You just said it 
didn't wear off."

   "Cold...aaaah.....cold water turn you.....female again....please...."

   "So. I change genders if I get wet. That's just wonderful."

   She slowly turned to stare at Genma, who jumped off the 
pole to the ground. "Now son... daughter... I'm sure we can work 
this out..."

   A deep, feral snarl bubbled up from Ranma's throat, the type 
of snarl that rabid timber wolves dream about making.

   Genma ran.

^_-

    "...so the boy here asked the guide, and found that warm 
water changes him back. And cold water turns him female." 
Genma hung his head. "If only we had been able to understand 
the guidebook! If only I spoke Chinese!"

   "If only you had the mental power of the average garden 
snail," Ranma said flatly.

   Genma paused. "I'm truly sorry, Tendo-kun. I wanted to bring 
you a son to marry one of your daughters, but...I can't ask you 
to take Ranma, given his condition."

   Soun leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "But he's 
still a man, neh? Doesn't wear dresses or date other men?"

   Angrily, Ranma turned to face him. "No," he spat. "And I don't 
wear high heels, or fawn over fuzzy widdle animals, or giggle."
He looked tired, suddenly. "Sorry, Mr. Tendo, but this hasn't 
been much fun for me. I'm a man." A broken sigh. "A man."

   Akane, seated at the other end of the table, was still trying 
to grasp the fact that her new friend was... a boy? Cursed? Had 
been here less than a day and seen her stark naked? She wasn't 
sure which upset her more.

   Ranma didn't look very happy either, she noticed. In fact, he 
looked almost ready to burst into tears. Nothing like the 
arrogant young man who had burst into the living room and 
effortlessly disarmed her.

   How, she wondered, would she have handled turning into a 
boy? Akane shuddered; not very well, she suspected. And if her 
life had been a constant struggle before being saddled with an 
obscene curse...

   She made her decision.

   "Father," she said hesitantly, "why don't we wait a while? 
Ranma and Mr. Saotome can stay here, and if things..."

   "Now Akane," Nabiki interjected, "you know how crowded 
the house can be. I'm sure Ranma would be more comfortable in 
a hotel. We'd pay for the room, of course..."

   Akane stared in disbelief. Nabiki was offering to spend 
money?

   Ranma cast his eyes downward. "We don't want to be in the 
way," he said in a small voice. "If you want us to go to a 
ryokan..."

    Kasumi, reacting to the horrifying prospect of a guest who 
was being shown less that courteous behavior, put on Cheery-
But-Firm-Maternal-Smile #23. "I'm sure we have plenty of 
room. And we'd love to have both of you. Right, Nabiki-chan?"

   Nabiki tried to glare at her older sister, discovered that this 
was not physically possible, and instead flashed a sickly grin. 
"Yeah. Love guests."

   Ranma turned anxious eyes to Kasumi. "Are you sure?"

   Kasumi beamed. "Of course! Why, the Saotomes are 
practically family."

   Genma started to speak, appeared to think better of it, and 
slumped back into his seat.

   Akane watched Ranma smile happily. She felt like smiling 
herself; it was an infectious kind of thing. "Please, think of 
our home as your home," she said.

   Ranma seemed to wipe something from his eye. "I...I'd like 
that," he managed.

   Soun stood up briskly. "Well, that appears to be settled. 
Tomorrow we can go about registering Ranma at the high 
school. Kasumi, why don't you show our guests their rooms?"

   Kasumi, pleased with the rather soppy and sentimental turn 
of events, stood up from her chair. "Of course, daddy. Ranma, 
Mr. Saotome, if you'll just follow me...."

   The whole room stood, save Nabiki, and began to follow 
Kasumi upstairs. As they filed out of the room, Ranma turned 
to Nabiki, the odd half-smile playing across his features, and 
winked. She met his gaze steadily, and eventually he turned to 
follow the others.

   Only then did Nabiki allow her face to show fear.

^_-

   Kasumi went to bed that night feeling tremendously happy. 
Not only had the Saotomes recieved proper treatment, but they 
would be staying for quite a while. Which meant that she'd be 
able to feed them, and cook for them, and bring them tea, and 
remind them to dress warmly, oh my, more subjects!

   She slowly drifted off to sleep, her mind filled with pictures 
of her world, where everything was proper and ordered.

   Later that night she woke to the sound of screams, and 
considered them. It sounded like one of the Saotomes, and she 
had done everything that a good host was supposed to do. So 
they couldn't be unhappy. And people only screamed like that 
when they were unhappy, or, more accurately, experiencing the 
torments of the damned. And that couldn't be the case; she had 
even dusted under the bed.

   Eventually she concluded that no-one was screaming at all, 
and went back to sleep. She hoped that her next dream would 
be more tidy.

^_-

   Akane awoke with a start as a scream of agony rang out. Her 
mind groggily inquired as to the source of the scream, and her 
memory returned the answer a few seconds later. Ranma.

   Vaulting out of bed, she grabbed her robe and rushed out into 
the hall. A few seconds later, Nabiki emerged from her room. 
She hadn't bothered with a robe, but was clutching a bokken in 
a steady grip. Akane wondered where she had got it; surely 
Nabiki didn't keep weapons in bed with her?

   They found Genma sitting in front of Ranma's bedroom door, 
his eyes unreadable.

   "Mr. Saotome," Akane hissed, "what's going on? Is Ranma 
okay? He sounds like he's being murdered!"

   Genma stared at her, wincing as another scream split the 
night. "He...my son has...dreams."

   Akane stared at him. "That's from a dream? God, why hasn't 
anyone woken him up?!"

  She put her hand on the doorknob, but was stopped by Genma's 
hand on her shoulder. Angrily, she spun around, "He's in...". She 
trailed off as she saw the fear and pain written across his 
broad face.

   "It would not be a good idea to wake him." Genma's voice 
seemed strangely distant. "That would be dangerous."

   Akane was puzzled. "I've heard that you aren't supposed to 
wake a sleepwalker, but surely this isn't the same?"

   Genma shook his head. "I didn't mean dangerous to him."

   "NNNOOOOOOOOOOOplease.....getoff...no......daddyhelp...please 
...I'llbegoodpleasegetthemawayhelpnononoNONOAAAAAAAAAAA
AA!" The scream slowly faded away in a series of gurgling 
sobs. Akane stared at the door, horrified.

  "What...why?" she finally asked.

   Genma sighed. "It's a long story, and one I'm not going to tell 
tonight. Maybe...maybe after a while."

   Nabiki, who had remained silent, now stared at Genma. "Can 
we expect this every night?"

  Genma shook his head. "He has these....dreams....after a move 
to a new place, or after a...change." His gaze turned pleading. 
"He doesn't know about them, you know. He won't remember 
any of this come morning, and I ask you not to mention it to 
him."
   "NOplease...Ryou...don'twantpleasenobackdon'tmakeme....mother.
..NO.." The words turned into incoherent shrieks, building, 
rising...

    Akane looked away. "I won't tell him. Neither will Nabiki, 
right?"

   Nabiki nodded quickly.

   Genma managed a forced smile. "Thank you. Now....go back to 
sleep."

   On her way back to her room, Akane wondered what form of 
hell could do that to someone as confident and self-possessed 
as Ranma.

   After her mother had died, she had sometimes awoke in the  
black part of the morning, crying for someone who wasn't 
going to come. She knew Nabiki had done the same, although 
the middle Tendo sister would never admit it. Kasumi hadn't, 
but then Kasumi had been the one who came to comfort them 
and tuck them back into bed. And maybe there hadn't been much 
difference between the one being comforted and the one doing 
the comforting.

   When pain invades your waking hours, it passes over into 
your sleep. And losing your mother is pain indeed.

   Whatever it was that was eating away at Ranma, it was 
obviously much, much worse. Akane had trouble even imagining 
such a thing.

   Nabiki was closing her door, going back to sleep. Akane heard 
the sharp click of the lock being turned, and frowned.

   Akane knew her sister better than anyone, and would have 
expected one of two reactions to being woken in the middle of 
the night by a screaming houseguest. The first was the almost 
comical grumpy, crotchety air she adopted when faced by 
something that was wasting her time. The second was the 
predatory gleam that appeared in her eyes when she saw a 
chance to make money, which was most of the time.

   Nabiki had looked...thoughtful. As if she were trying to fit a 
piece into a particularly hard jigsaw puzzle.

   Akane pulled the covers over her with a sigh. Now she had 
two people to worry about; Ranma and her sister.

^_-

   Day came, as it often does.

   Kasumi was the first up, as usual She was in a good mood, 
which was also usual. After doing her usual morning stuff 
(contrary to widespread belief, Kasumi had morning breath like 
everyone else), she began to fix a abnormally large breakfast. 
Growing boys needed food to start the day, and Mr. Saotome 
was fat, which implied that he enjoyed a good meal.

   Kasumi enjoyed watching people eat. It had, in fact, taken 
several months of chiding to break her of the habit of staring 
in fascination at the other diners' mouths. She was looking 
forward to watching the Saotomes.

   Soun was the next one up, refreshed by a good night's sleep. 
He had slept through the entire night's unpleasantness, but 
this was normal enough. Soun could have slept soundly on the 
stage of a heavy metal concert.

   Nabiki, Akane, Ranma, and Genma came downstairs within 
seconds of each other. None of them had slept very well, and 
looked it.

   Kasumi informed them that it was a good morning, sat them 
down, and pushed food at them.

   She was in for a pleasant surprise. Both of them didn't so 
much eat as inhale. The beginnings of affection sprouted in 
Kasumi. After breakfast they showered her with complements, 
which was fertilizer for the sprouts.

   As the plates were cleared, Soun addressed the table. 
"Ranma has been enrolled in Furinkan High, in Akane's class, I 
believe. She can show him the way there, and lead him around 
the school. Is this satisfactory?"

  Ranma gave Soun a grateful look. "Oh yes, Mr. Tendo. That 
would be more than satisfactory."

   Soun beamed. "Good. You'd better go, wouldn't want to be late 
for your first day!"

   Nabiki muttered an affirmative, and sped out the door.

   As the dust from her sister's departure settled, Akane 
sighed. She wasn't sure what Ranma's reaction to the mob of 
idiots that tried to pummel her on a daily basis would be. It 
was...embarrassing, and she realized that she didn't want to be 
embarrassed in front of Ranma.

   She pictured Ranma fighting off the crazed horde for her. 
That was a pleasant image, and she replayed it a few times. 
And then, after the hentais had been disbursed...

   "Shouldn't we be going?"

  Akane jerked out of her reverie, startled. Ranma was staring 
at her, a hint of impatience showing.

  "Yes, of course. C'mon, the school's this way." With that, she 
ran out the door, stopping only to grab her schoolbag.

^_-

   Ranma, it seemed, found fences preferable to sidewalks.

   Balance was a essential part of martial arts, and Akane 
could use a balance beam or a wire with the best. She could 
walk along a fence rail, if she ever wanted to. But to _run_ 
along a fence, without paying attention, as if it were the most 
natural thing in the world...   

   "So what's this place like?" he asked.

   She decided to get it over quickly. "Oh, a bunch of students 
will try to beat me up as soon as I walk in the gate."

   Akane was treated to a very rare sight; that of Ranma 
looking dumbfounded. "They what?"

   "Try to beat me up. The school president declared that only 
one who defeats me in combat will date me." A look of pure 
disgust crossed her face. "Boys."

   Ranma smirked. "Gee, does this mean I have to date you?"

   Akane glared at him. He held up his hands in mock defense. 
"Just a question. Besides...the way you fight, I'm the only 
person you'll ever get a chance with under that stupid law."

   The glare melted, and a warm feeling rose up in Akane. She 
didn't get much recognition for her skills, and coming from 
someone as good as Ranma..."Yeah, well, the guy who declared 
it's pretty good. A kendoist."

   He made a rude noise. "Huh, Kendo. Some good stuff, but too 
limiting. And they make way too big a deal over honor." The 
last word came out as if it tasted bad.

   "Honor has a place, but..." Akane began. Ranma laughed, and 
made a dismissing gesture.

   "Honor is dumb," he said. "It's a bunch of inconvenient rules 
clung to by scared old men and stupid little boys." He stared at 
her, and Akane was briefly startled at the intensity she saw 
there. "All it does is hurt you. I look out for myself. Oh, and 
those I care for," he added, almost as an afterthought.

   Akane felt slightly embarrassed, as if she was hearing an 
elderly, respected relative being mocked. "But honor is one of 
the keystones of the martial arts!"

   Ranma gave a sharp chuckle. "Oh? What's the most effective 
martial art in existence?"

   "Anything-Goes," Akane answered automatically.

   "Exactly. Just look at the name. Anything is allowed, as long 
as you win."

   "But the Tendo-Ryuu teaches honor towards..."

   "Feh. Who won our fight? Who defeated who?" Akane was 
silent, and Ranma pressed on. "Honor is a stone around the 
neck, and when people aren't careful it drags them. Down. All 
its fault." He was silent for a few moments.

   Then they arrived at the school gates, and all hell broke 
loose.

^_-

   It was a mob, dressed in hockey pads, football helmets, sumo 
gear...a normal sight, really.

   Akane spat her favorite epititet ("Boys!") and proceeded to 
hit people. Ranma sat down by the gate and watched with 
interest.

   She really was in fine form today, people thought as they 
were knocked senseless.

   It probably would have flattered Akane to have known this, 
but she was busy turning down requests to date via her 
knuckles. She tried to think of it as a form of morning 
workout, but it didn't change the fact that a horde of drooling, 
hormone-ridden perverts were trying to assault her.

   Ranma, she noted sourly, was failing to live up to her 
daydream. The least he could do was watch her back, or maybe 
help her clear a path. Her irritation level went up a few 
notches, and so did the severity of the injuries.   

  Eventually, she ran out of targets. Akane stopped to rest, 
panting a bit. Ranma stood and applauded, earning a dirty look. 
"You could have helped."

  He shot her the half-smile. "You didn't look like you needed it. 
I didn't want to spoil your fun."

   "Fun?"

   "Yeah."

   A figure picked this moment to dramatically step into view. 
Akane gave a little sigh of resignation, knowing who it must 
be. Ranma just narrowed his eyes.

   "Whither goest the lovely Tendo Akane on this beauteous 
morn?" inquired the figure. "For lo, your true love has come to 
pay you homage in the martial way you adore."

   "Go away, Kuno," spoketh Tendo Akane.

   Ranma stared at the newcomer with interest. "Who are you?"

   The figure struck a Heroic Pose (TM). "I, churl, am the 
foremost of men. I am the leader of the band of samurai who 
dwell here, the rising star of the Kendo world (junior 
division), the "Blue Thunder" of his peers. Kuno Takewaki, age 
17."

   Ranma chuckled. "How nice. Do you do birthday parties?"

   Kuno turned a interesting shade of purple.

    Ranma held up a hand. "No, no, don't bother demanding my 
name. Saotome Ranma."

   Kuno opened his mouth, struggling for words.

   Ranma yawned. "A duel of honor? Sure. But I'm late for class. 
Mind if we wait until....hmm. Hold on, let me check my 
appointment calender."

   Kuno charged, bokken slicing the air.

   Akane tried to decide whether or not to get involved. It was 
pretty obvious that Ranma could take care of himself. On the 
other hand, he was unarmed, and she had never seen Kuno this 
angry.

   The bokken rose and fell, moving almost too quickly for the 
eye to follow. While not allowing any blows to land, Ranma 
wasn't attacking. He just dodged and wove, an almost critical 
look on his face. Occasionally he would sidestep something 
nonexistent, as if he fought an invisible foe. If anything, this 
just seemed to enrage Kuno more.

   They were near the school now, and a few chunks of concrete 
flew from the wall. Akane blinked as she realized that the air 
pressure caused by the bokken was doing the damage. All at 
once, she saw purpose behind Ranma's seemingly meaningless 
dodges.

   Kuno was better that she had thought. He had been pulling his 
punches while fighting her, the bastard...

   With no warning, Ranma went from defensive retreat to 
aggressive fury. Kuno staggered backwards as blows ripped 
through his defenses, forcing him back...

   There was a sudden, painful, sickening crack.

   Kuno looked surprised, then examined his leg, fascinated at 
the unusual angle it was at. He fell over as he was doing this, 
but didn't seem to notice. Smiling, Ranma leaned over and 
pulled the bokken out of the fallen kendoist's hands. He turned 
it over and over, examining Kuno with a speculative gaze, as if 
trying to decide...

   A sudden queasy feeling came over Akane.

   She cleared her throat. "Ranma," she said, softly, "he's 
down. And hurt."

   He turned to her, a frightening glint in his eyes. "Yes. I 
know."

   With casual grace, he swung the bokken in a circle, turned to 
Kuno, raised the bokken high above his head, brought it down...

    ...into his belt to sheath it.

   His gaze returned to Akane. "Is something wrong?"

   "I..I thought...," Akane stammered. Ranma gave her a mildly 
inquisitive glance. "Nothing," finished lamely.   

   Ranma smiled at her. "Our classmate Kuno-sempai," he gave 
a mock bow to the half-conscious boy, "has managed to injure 
himself. It is our duty as good schoolmates to take him to the 
infirmary."

   She slowly nodded. He made a beckoning motion. "Could you 
take his other arm?"

^_-

   Akane sat in class, pretending to listen to Sensei's lecture 
on Bolivian tin. Her thoughts were fixed on Ranma, who sat 
next to her, apparently drinking in every word the teacher 
spoke.

   He had enjoyed breaking Kuno's leg.

   It made her shudder. She enjoyed a good fight, the sensation 
of pitting your will against your opponent's, the challenge. But 
she got the impression that Ranma hadn't enjoyed the fight as 
much as he had enjoyed snapping the bone, causing pain and 
injury. And then, later on....

   She had been sure he was going to kill Kuno.

   But he hadn't.

   He hadn't killed her yesterday, either, when she had been 
sure he would. And he had been very careful bringing Kuno to 
the infirmary, making sure that the injured leg wasn't bumped 
or jostled. He had been more careful than she had been, in fact.

   Could it be that she was reading him incorrectly? Looking 
back on what she expected him to do and what he actually did, 
it seemed likely.

   She shot a glance at him. He had a deep soul, she felt. Deep, 
with black chasms and sunless depths. And it was very hard to 
tell what might lie beneath the surface.

   There were certain things you couldn't mistake, though. Like 
the screams in the night. They had contained pity, horror, 
fear...

   Shame...

   He needed help. There was a demon trapped inside him, eating 
away from the inside. It was something he kept fighting, and 
kept losing to.

   Maybe she could help him fight it. Maybe two people were 
enough to drive it away.

   Sensei made a joke, a academic jest that only other 
academics would find amusing. To Akane's surprise, Ranma 
seemed to chuckle at it. Not the fake smile that several of the 
other students put up, but honest amusement.

   Maybe...

^_-

   Like a wraith, the figure emerged from the wastes. He had 
reached the ocean.

   "Thalassa," whispered the figure, and chuckled.

   He was robed against the heat and biting sand of the desert; 
but the desert was behind him. The robe was flung into the sea 
as he bent to study the beach.

   Footprints. Two sets of them. A large man and a teenager, 
both disappearing into the surf.

   Across that ocean lay Japan. His quarry was leaving China at 
last, going home.

   Going home to die.

   One hand caressed the handle of a worn umbrella, felt the 
texture of the wood as he had so many times before.

   "Saotome."

   It was curse and prayer, promise and threat. It was religion 
and purpose. It was bloodfeud, fire, vendetta. And above all, it 
was hate strong enough to storm the gates of hell if that was 
what it took.

   The figure waded into the sea. Above him, an albatross shrieked twice,
then sped on the tide of the wind for Japan.

-< End of Chapter 2 >-