Chapter 5 - Idle Conversation

But do you come to take me out
Or do you come to put me in?
Do you come to yield to me?
...Or do you come to win?
   -The Flash Girls

   A homogeneous country, Japan, although not as much as some 
Japanese would like. After all, there are the Koreans, a few 
Chinese, Burakumin, a handful of westerners, the Ainu...

   The Burakumin are avoided. The westerners are tolerated and 
enthused over. The Ainu were here first, which makes telling 
them to go back where they came from a bit problematic.

   But the Chinese and Koreans have no such defense, and tend 
to get the short end of the stick in many cases.

   In this particular case, a sixteen-year-old Chinese boy was 
smiling at the ten dockworkers closing in on him with 
hammers, belaying pins, and lengths of wood or pipe. He had 
made the mistake of knocking out the man who lay unmoving 
behind him, who had in turn made the mistake of thinking that 
Chinese could be spit upon without fear of reprisal.

   "Go away," the boy told them. They didn't.

   He shrugged. Warning had been given. It wasn't his fault.

   One of the dockworkers died in the hospital a week later. 
Two of the other nine were released from intensive care at 
around the same time, and it was hoped the other seven would 
regain mobility of a sort within the month.

   The boy, had he known, would have taken no satisfaction in 
this. On the other hand, neither would he have felt any grief. 
The moment his weapons had been put back in their places, the 
men had ceased to matter. They weren't of his tribe, or that of 
his allies or enemies. They were Japanese, and foolish, 
unskilled ones at that. Whether they lived or died was of no 
import to him.

   After all, none of them was named Saotome Ranma.

^_-

   Akane ran, almost sobbing.

   Everything had changed. Everything. One second her life was 
speeding along, right on track - a new friend and sparring 
partner, Ranma beginning to open up to her - and the next...

   Derailment.

   Her 'friend', along with her brother, had just tried to kill 
Ranma. And Ranma had apparently not opened up to her all 
_that_ much, because he had neglected to mention the fact 
that he had killed someone a few years back. She fought back a 
hysterical giggle; it admittedly wasn't exactly the sort of 
thing you worked into conversation over dinner. "Pass the 
rolls, please, Kasumi. I had a good day at school, think I got an 
A on my calc test. I like your shirt today, Akane. I murdered 
someone a few years back. Can I have some more soy sauce, 
please?"

   Okay, she could see how he might not want to talk about it, 
how he wouldn't tell his only friend. He had said he was 
friends with that other boy, didn't he? So he had a few 
problems, but she had known that, and it wasn't like he didn't 
feel _bad_ about it, how many people feel bad about killing 
someone, how many people kill someone in the first place oh 
god oh god oh god...

   She had a lot of questions to ask Ranma when she caught up 
to him. He had gotten a head start on her, but that wasn't 
really a problem.

   She choked back another spate of tears as she barreled 
around a corner, leaving a shoeprint in the puddle of blood on 
the sidewalk.

   Ranma was leaving her a trail. If he left much more of one, 
she didn't think he'd survive. There were streaks of crimson 
marring the street all the way to...

   Panting, she pulled to a stop. The clinic.  That's right, he had 
asked her to point it out to him the second day he was here.

   "Planning on getting injured?" she had teased.

   He had grinned back. "Not really. Just like to be prepared."

   Doctor Tofu would take care of him. Yes. He always took care 
of her, after all...

   Not that she had ever been in danger of bleeding to death. 

   With a low moan, Akane began to walk toward the clinic, 
forcing herself to ignore the trail of red on the sidewalk. She 
was going to walk. Not run, walk. Ranma would be fine, and 
things would be straightened out.

   Walk. One foot in front of the other, don't look down.

   He killed someone.

   Walk.

^_- 

   Opening his eyes, Koji groaned. He really, really hurt. A lot. 
No bones broken, from the feel of things, but he seemed to have 
picked up bruises in places he hadn't even known existed. It 
would be at least a day or two before he was back to top 
fighting potential.

   A cold, damp cloth brushed against his forehead, the 
sensation wonderfully soothing against the pain. Leaning his 
head back, he saw his sister slowly wipe his forehead. She 
didn't look happy.

   "Hey... how'd we do?"

   Mariko scowled at him. "I don't know. Saotome took off 
running, and Akane followed him. I decided to make sure you 
weren't dead instead of following them."

   Damn, he thought. "I might have got him... did you see the way 
his wrists were bleeding? Like a stuck pig! He'll be weak; 
assuming he's even alive. I'll go see if I can catch up..." He 
began to rise, and a wave of nausea and pain swept over him. 
Frowning, Mariko pushed him back onto his bedroll.

   "You're staying right here, brother mine. After the pounding 
you took, I'm surprised you woke up at all. He unloaded a series 
of direct punches on you, near the end, and Ranma isn't exactly 
a wimp."

   Koji flashed her a toothy smile. "Yeah, well, Hibikis are 
tough. Comes from clean living and healthy exercise."

   "You call this healthy exercise?"

   "What does not kill you makes you stronger."

   Rolling her eyes, Mariko drenched the cloth in a nearby 
bucket. "That's great. Just great. I have a masochist for a 
brother. No wonder you aren't dead; nothing Ranma has could 
possibly hurt that thick skull."

   "Excuse me? Who was the seven-year-old who got into a 
headbutting contest with the goat in the petting zoo? And 
won?"

   She grinned. "Well, it ate my sun hat. My Speed Racer sun hat. 
Think I was going to let it get away with that?" Standing, she 
assumed a over-dramatic pose and shook her fist at the sky. 
"Cursed billy goat! You have eaten my favorite hat and brought 
shame to my family name! Tonight, you burn in hell!" She held 
the pose and grim expression for a little over four seconds 
before collapsing into laughter. Unable to help himself, Koji 
joined her.

   "Haha... *gasp* Now.. heh... look what you did. It hurts when I 
laugh!"

   Mariko found this even funnier, for some reason, and Koji 
discovered that if you've just been laughing and another person 
starts, you are forced by instinct to join in.

   "Haheh... OW, Mariko....heheh...ow....he...ha..."

   Wiping her eyes, still giggling, she turned her attention back 
to her ministrations. For his part, Koji rested; letting his mind 
relax along with his body, letting his ki lap through himself 
like waves against a shoreline. A slow breath in, a slow breath 
out, and the world encompassed and defined by the rhythm of 
it. 

   Mariko noticed the inward state her brother was working 
towards, and slowly stopped moving the cloth along his brow. 
She had a deep and powerful compulsion to break him out of it 
with a light slap of the rag across his face, but the desire to 
tease was stilled by necessity. He was entering a meditative 
sequence designed to channel one's life force towards repair 
and renewal; as long as he was uninterrupted, he should be 
almost back to normal after a few hours and a good night's 
sleep. Normal people would be in the hospital for weeks, or 
already dead. But, as her brother had pointed out, Hibikis were 
not normal people. They could take just about anything.

   Except broken necks.

   The last of her good feelings vanished, replaced by a cold, 
icy sense of rage and disappointment. They had HAD him, the 
plan had worked perfectly, and if that stupid Tendo girl hadn't 
thrown herself in the way...

   Mariko sighed. She couldn't even bring herself to hate Akane, 
that was the worst of it. What was she supposed to do, swear 
vengeance because the girl was willing to take a bullet for a 
friend? However misguided it had been, Mariko couldn't help 
but acknowledge the courage of it.

   Which, of course, hadn't stopped her from trying to kill 
Akane.

   She frowned. That wasn't precisely true either. She had 
hesitated just long enough for Akane to knock the umbrella out 
of line, a momentary flash of - guilt? squeamishness? pity? - 
causing her to miss a golden chance to end Saotome's 
miserable life.

   Opportunity had knocked, but she had been in the bathroom 
reading the sports section.

   Snarling, she angrily wrung out the cloth. No more Miss Nice 
Guy. Akane was in her way, in her way despite having been 
warned and despite the fact that her own well-being was in 
danger. If Akane had to - decided to - die along with Ranma, 
well, she wouldn't hesitate again. She'd just try to make it as 
painless as possible. This was war, and in war you only 
participated if you were willing to die without onus of shame 
to your killer.

   "So why do I feel so guilty?" she muttered to a passing 
butterfly.

   The butterfly lit on her nose and told her at great length, but 
the effort was wasted since Hibikis didn't speak Butterfly.

^_-

   Akane arrived at the clinic to find Doctor Tofu waiting for 
her, a serious expression on his normally smiling face. Her 
heart froze.

   "Akane, are you here for your friend?"

   "Y-yes... he's... he's going to be okay, right?"

   She was almost certain the doctor would shake his head 
sadly, or say that it was too soon to tell. That's what the 
doctors had done with her mother, after all... an endless 
barrage of 'need more tests' and 'too early to tell how 
effective'. She didn't remember any of this, but Nabiki and 
Daddy did. And they talked about it, the both of them, on 
certain late nights with Kasumi hovering in the background 
like a spectre who's punishment after death was the eternal 
replacing of empty cups. Akane didn't like to be around the 
house at those times.

   "He'll be fine, Akane. He lost a bit of blood, but he had the 
good sense to tie a tourniquet around his arms as he came 
down. I've sewn up the worst of the cuts and bandaged the 
others." He frowned, and the stern gaze became even more 
intense. Akane shrank back a little; Doctor Tofu was normally 
friendly and gentle, not at all like the grim figure in front of 
her. "What I need to know is how he got the cuts in the first 
place. The truth, now."

   She stared back at him, mind turning in circles. Why did he 
need to know? Would he call the police? Was he...

   She shook her head angrily. "He hurt himself sparring, 
Doctor. He was being stupid and over..."

   Tofu put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Akane, I realize that 
he's your friend. But if he's got problems, they need to be 
brought into the open. He might try this again, and next time he 
might not have second thoughts."

   Blinking, Akane looked at him blankly. What was he talking 
about?

   Comprehension dawned suddenly, and she almost laughed in 
spite of herself. "Oh, Doctor Tofu, are you saying you thought 
he had tried to kill himself?"

   The doctor looked taken aback. "I had assumed so, yes. The 
cuts on the wrists and arms..."

   "Oh no," she interrupted firmly. "No, it wasn't a suicide 
attempt. I saw the whole thing, and it was just a sparring 
accident. Really, doctor." 

   Seemingly reassured by her surprise at the idea, Tofu nodded. 
"I'm going to keep him here for the rest of the day, just to 
make sure I didn't miss anything. I'll send him home in time 
for dinner." He smiled suddenly, and again was the friendly 
family doctor she was used to. "He's got phenomenal stamina, 
and is in better shape than anyone I've ever seen. Just goes to 
show that if you take care of your body, it will return the 
favor. Very calm, too, for someone who had his wrists slashed 
open. That and the placement of the cuts was why I thought.. 
well.. never mind. I suppose the scuffmarks on his clothing 
should have given it away." Glancing at his watch, the doctor 
frowned. "Shouldn't you have been in school?"

   Akane groaned. "Oh no..."

   Smiling, Tofu reached into a pocket and pulled out a 
prescription pad. Jotting a note on it, he handed it to her. 
"Here. This says that there was a medical emergency, and I 
recruited you to help out. Not too terribly far from the truth, 
and enough to satisfy your teachers, I should think."

  Taking the note, Akane smiled up at him gratefully.

^_-

   Kuno Tatewaki was irked.

   He was back on his noble feet after nearly a week of 
recuperation and hobbling about. He had lovingly crafted a new 
Sword of Honour out of the finest and most sturdy polycarbon 
wood substitute. He had gathered his vassals, the mighty 
Furinkan Kendo Club, in case Saotome brought an army. He had 
ordered Mishima Heavy Industries Anti-Elephant Sonic 
Emitters in case the fiend tried to use his hell-spawned power 
over pachyderms again. He had watched 'The Seven Samurai' 23 
times last night.

   He was ready to Smite.

   But no-one wanted to play with him today.

   "WHERE IS SAOTOME RANMA!"

    The playground was silent. This wasn't surprising, since 
everyone else had given up and gone to class 15 minutes ago.

   Kuno fumed and stalked imperiously across the field of 
battle, which also served as the field of hopscotch at recess. 
That coward! How dare he not show for his just punishment!

   "SAOTOME! TRULY YOU ARE THE BASEST OF MEN!"

   "Yeah, well, no argument there, Kuno-chan."

   He turned, his face adopting a sour expression. "Ah, Tendo 
Nabiki-san. What fell tidings do you bring me?"

   Stepping out of the school archway, Nabiki scowled. "Ranma 
won't be showing up, Kuno. Not today." 

   "WHAT!" roared Kuno. Nabiki sighed.

   "He suffered an injury earlier today, I'm afraid. He's out of it 
for right now."

   "An outrage! No doubt his wound was self-inflicted to avoid 
the fury of my just wrath!" 

   Nabiki nodded. "That's exactly what I heard, Kuno-chan."

   "Do not call me that."

   "Okay, Tatchi."

   "Or that."

   "Anything you say, Kunster."

   "I hate you."

   Nabiki rolled her eyes. "Nice to know. Anyway, he's at the 
Ono Clinic. Go get him."

   "No."

   "Great, he doesn't stand a....what do you mean, NO?"

   Kuno shrugged expansively. "He is wounded. The Blue Thunder 
does not fight wounded men."

   "But.. but..! You'll never get a better chance!"

   Again the shrug. "Saotome is a peasant. I may dispatch him 
at mine leisure."

   Nabiki gritted her teeth, keeping her urge to throttle the 
kendoist in check with difficulty. "Kuno-ch... -san, think of 
Akane! Think of the undescribable torment she suffers at his 
foul hands! Oh when, oh when will this wickedness end? Who 
will save my poor sister from his base clutches?"

   "I SHALL!" Kuno thundered. Nabiki smiled.

   "I GO!"

   "Go, oh hero!"

   "I GO TO FIND AKANE!"

   "Yes, go to... NO! Go get Ran...." Nabiki trailed off as Kuno 
raced out the gate.

   "Wonderful. Just wonderful." Nabiki buried her head in her 
hands. "If only that vast and mighty stupidity could be directed 
towards a _useful_ goal...."

   "Oneechan! Hey!"

   Nabiki looked up to see Akane walking in the gate Kuno had 
so recently departed by. "Hi, sis. You're late. Kuno just left a 
few seconds ago."

   Akane smirked. "Oh darn. What are you going out here? School 
started twenty minutes ago."

   "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard you got 
into a fight..." Nabiki trailed off, peering at her sister. 
Something looked out of place...

   "Akane! What happened to your hair?"

   Grimacing, Akane fingered the spot where Mariko's blast had 
clipped a lock away. "Part of the fight, Nabiki. I'm probably 
going to have to cut it short, like I used to." She sighed, 
feeling a little melancholy. "I always liked it better short, 
anyways. I only wore it long because..." Realizing what she was 
saying, Akane blushed. "Well, it's not important any more."

   Nabiki raised an eye speculatively. "Not interested in any 
more photos of Tofu, then?"

   "Ssssh!" hissed Akane, glancing around nervously. "No, not 
anymore. I was just trying to compete with Kasumi, I think. 
Doctor Tofu's nice, but... it was a little kid thing, okay?"

   Nabiki nodded, carefully refraining from mentioning that the 
'little kid thing' had been going strong three weeks ago. Akane 
was opening up to her, and Nabiki desperately needed to know 
certain things.

    "So how's Ranma?" she asked, doing her best to make the 
question sound casual. He probably wasn't dead, unfortunately; 
Akane wasn't in tears.

   "He's got some bad cuts," Akane replied. "Exactly how much 
_have_ you heard about what happened, Nabiki?"

   "Just that there was a big fight between you and him and 
some other pair," Nabiki lied. "That's all. Did he win?"

    Hesitating for a second, Akane nodded. "I think so. The other 
guy got knocked out at the very end, or close to it. But Ranma 
had to dash to the clinic to keep from... I mean, to get his cuts 
looked at."

   "And how'd you do?"

   Akane looked embarrassed. "I disarmed my opponent, and 
held my own in the rest of the fight. It broke up when Ranma 
raced off." She kicked a rock angrily. "I don't know if I would 
have won or not."

   Nabiki smiled. "Probably. You KO half the male population of 
Furinkan every morning." She paused idly, knowing that the 
next question would be a delicate one. "So what got these two 
so riled up?"

   Sure enough, Akane's face darkened. "I don't know," she said 
curtly. "Some stupid grudge against Ranma. Look, shouldn't we 
both get to class? I don't want to miss any more than I have 
to, and Ranma'll want me to get a copy of the homework for 
him." Pushing past her sister, she stalked into the school.

   Nabiki sat down heavily on the steps.

   Hikaru had told her everything, from the words Ranma and 
Koji had exchanged before the fight to the details of the 
battle. The story had frightened and excited her, given her both 
wonderful news and confirming her worst fears.

   Ranma was definitely a killer. If he had murdered his best 
friend, he could do it again here and now. And he probably 
would, eventually. Not only that, but a maniac with a shotgun 
had almost killed Akane earlier this morning.

   On the positive side, the maniac had been aiming for Ranma, 
an idea which Nabiki felt was a good one. Ranma now had two 
enemies who could stand up to him in physical combat, and 
who both wanted him dead. An incredible asset, that. She 
would have to get in contact with the Hibikis, cut some deals 
with them. Like helping them to bag Ranma. And keeping their 
fucking guns pointing _away_ from her sister. 

   Yeah, it sounded like a case of psycho vs psycho, and she was 
going to back the one that _wouldn't_ hang around after the 
other guy died.

   Nabiki shivered, feeling suddenly cold. When had someone's 
death become an ordinary objective for her? She was going to 
help kill a human being. What was she becoming?

    "Better him than me," she whispered. And better him than 
Akane.

   Damn him, she thought. Damn him for making me do this.

^_-

   Kuno raced along the streets of Nerima, looking for his one 
true love.

    He had absolutely no idea where she might be, but that 
didn't worry him overmuch. Experience had taught him that if 
he ran around long enough, he would eventually run into Akane. 
And then he would run into Akane's foot, but his memory 
usually edited out that part. If he just persisted, he would find 
her.

   He had been following this course of action for roughly half 
an hour when he heard the sounds of violence. This was 
appealing, and often a sign of Akane's presence, so he followed 
them into the park.

   After much tramping through dense wilderness, he spied a 
sight which made his heart sing. Silhouetted behind a stand of 
light trees was an obviously female figure, going through a 
series of kicks and punches. The sounds of martial exertion 
were equally feminine.

   "TENDO AKANE!" Kuno gleefully bellowed, leaping through the 
trees. "YOUR LOVE IS HERE!" With the skill born of months of 
practice, he glomped onto...

   Something was wrong. The build... the height... the breast 
size...

   Kuno realized that the person he was clutching was, although 
female, not Akane. A split second later, a very heavy umbrella 
slammed into his skull. He found himself flying into a very 
hard tree, and then was surprised to note that his face seemed 
to be in buried in the dirt.

   Mariko, who was not at all in a good mood, kicked him hard in 
the stomach. "Hentai! Try to grope defenseless women, will 
you? Sheesh, and I thought the parks in Japan were safe during 
the day..."

    "A thousand pardons, madam," he tried to say. What came 
out was more like "Whurgle wagga whoosh?"

   "OH, NOW MAKING FILTHY SUGGESTIONS?" *WHAMWHAMWHAM*

   "Augh.... my apologies...ow....thought you were....Tendo 
Akane..."

   Snorting, Mariko turned to leave. "Dumb choice of targets, 
buddy. She'd have beat the crap outta you too."

   "Who... are... you?"

   "Hibiki Mariko. Stay out of my park."

   She walked off towards her campsite, and thus missed the 
last thing Kuno said before finally giving in to 
unconsciousness. 

   "Hibiki Mariko... I.. would....date... with....youarughaaa..."

^_- 

   Akane stood outside Ranma's bedroom door for the third time 
in twenty minutes.

   He had come home from Doctor Tofu's and gone straight 
upstairs. He hadn't looked at any of them, had just walked 
through the house like a robot.

   She had ran after him, meaning to talk, but had thought 
better of the idea. He needed time to be home, time to get used 
to his surroundings again, time for them to sooth him.

   Ten minutes later she had walked down the hall, stared at 
his door, and walked back to her room.

   And now, here she was again.

   Part of here didn't want to hear what he had to say. Part of 
her was afraid, afraid of him telling her that it was all true, 
or that he wasn't sorry, or....

   Akane shook her head angrily. This was important. She had to 
know, and Ranma had to get it off his chest. She had a feeling 
that it was one of the things that haunted his dreams, and 
sometimes the only way to exorcise those kind of demons was 
to bring them out into the light

   Steeling herself, she knocked.

   "Come in."

   She slowly opened the bedroom door, both relieved and 
alarmed at the flatness of his tone. The lights were off, and 
she could see him sitting crosslegged on his futon, staring at 
the vase of cherry twigs opposite the window.

   "Hello, Akane."

   "Hi, Ranma."

   There were no chairs in the room, and for a moment she just 
stood awkwardly in the doorway. Ranma's gaze remained 
transfixed on the vase, his eyes dull. After what seemed to be 
an hour of seconds, Akane carefully picked her way over to 
where he sat.

   "Ranma?"

   He did not look at her. "Yes?"

   "About... about what happened in the park.... do you want to 
talk about it? I mean, if you don't that's okay too, but I really 
think you should, to someone at least.." The works came out in 
a rush and she swallowed, her mouth feeling suddenly dry. 

   Ranma chuckled softly, a sound devoid of any humor, and 
turned to look at her.

   "It was years ago. I was in a school... boys' school, back then 
I was male all the time, twenty-four hours a day, rain or shine. 
And there was this kid called Ryouga who would spar with me. 
And I'd win. I was better than him.

   "So one day, just before I left for China, he calls a duel." 
Ranma laughed again, the thin sound a curious contrast to the 
expression on his face. "He had the worst sense of direction, 
you know. I waited two days in this vacant lot where the fight 
was set to be, and it took him three days to make it. I'd have 
left on day four if he still hadn't shown, I think. 

   "But he showed, and we fought. And he was good. Had a new 
trick. An umbrella."

   Ranma pulled his shirt up off over his head, and Akane 
colored slightly. "Uh, Ranma..."

   "Just illustrating a point." Taking her hand, he put it on his 
side. "Feel that?"

   "What..." she began to say, then stopped, feeling a 
imperfection marring the soft skin, a slight depression. 
Removing her hand, she looked carefully at the area.

   Although it was well-healed, there had obviously been a 
long, deep cut running along the length of his side.

   "You saw that trick Ry... I mean, Koji did with the umbrella. 
The buzzsaw. I got this from that." His face contorted 
suddenly.

   "I couldn't believe it, all the blood... I thought he had killed 
me, that I was dying... and so I hit him, and hit him, and hit 
him, and they screamed at me to stop but I COULDN'T!" His 
voice was shrill, thin, a man trying to scream in a whisper. "I 
just kept hitting him so that he wouldn't finish me off, so that 
maybe I'd live, so that I wouldn't die without a fight, and then 
he didn't move. And I'd killed him, somehow. I don't know what 
I did to make him die. I didn't do anything special, really, just 
hit him. God, I didn't. I didn't want to, and I thought that maybe 
I hadn't but I did. I did. I did." He stared at her for a second, 
looking almost pathetically confused, and slowly began to cry.

   Akane reached out and pulled him close to her, her mind 
flooded with pity and grief and guilty relief. A stupid 
playground fight, with two boys who didn't know when to stop. 
And the result is one of them dead and the other dying slowly 
from guilt. It was better than what she'd feared... although 
part of her had hoped he'd tell her he hadn't killed anyone.

   "God, I killed him, I killed him..."

   "Shh. Shh. Come on, now. You didn't mean to, and you... you 
weren't entirely in control of your actions. People do funny 
things when they're faced with death, and it sounds like you... 
snapped for a few minutes."

   The sobs grew deeper, more despairing. "I'm not _supposed_ 
to snap, I can _never_ snap, I'm a killer, I killed him..."

   "Ranma, it's okay. Come on, now."

   "It's not okay. It'll never be okay."

   "Ranma, tearing yourself up like this isn't going to bring him 
back. You've got to come to terms with it, face it."

   He lifted his head from where it was buried in her shoulder 
and looked at her soundlessly, tears trickling their way down 
his cheeks.

   "I thought you'd hate me," he said simply.

   "I could never hate you."

   And he actually managed to smile.

   "Uh," he said hesitantly, pulling away a bit, "maybe I'd 
better put my shirt back on. Bit of a draft."

   Akane blushed, realizing that she'd been holding a half-naked 
boy embarrassingly close. "Yeah."

   He pulled the shirt on, and smiled again, hesitantly, as if 
trying the expression on to see if it fit.

   "Thanks. I think I needed... well... it's been in the back of my 
mind for years now. I just didn't know, and now that it... that 
I... well..."

   "I know. You just can't keep things like that inside you, or 
they'll eat away your soul."

   He shuddered, and a shadow seemed to flicker across his 
face for a second. "Yeah."

   Standing, she walked for the door. "Come on. We're eating 
dinner in a few minutes, and you want to get your share, 
right?"

   "Of course." He gave a mock bow. "After you, Akane."

^_-

   The boy entered Nerima at roughly the same time the Tendos 
and Saotomes sat down to dinner.

   Exactly where his quarry was, he did not know. Subtlety, 
save in the nuances of combat, was not his forte. The sources 
he had used to track Ranma this far had been unreliable, or 
mystical, or in many cases both.

   Now, staring out the window of the train at the shadowy 
forms of buildings, he wondered what he would do once he 
_did_ catch up. He was good, among the best of his people, but 
Ranma... Ranma had already beaten him once. It had been a long 
fight, a close one at times, but it had been decisive. Unless 
Ranma had made a major error, the outcome of the fight had 
never been in doubt.

   That was then, this was now. He was better than he had been 
that day.

   But maybe Ranma was, too.

   "Nerima Ward! Passengers disembarking at Nerima Ward, 
stand ready!"

    The wheels screeched as the train began to brake. 
Shuddering, the Chinese boy prepared to stand. He _hated_ 
machines like this; all that raw power without skill and spirit 
guiding and shaping it. His people shunned them, which only 
made having to deal with them all the more unsettling.

   No matter how good Ranma was, he would only be fighting 
for his life. The boy was fighting for something infinitely 
more important, and the penalty for failure was far, far worse 
than a violent death.

   If he could not win, he would force Ranma to kill him. He 
smiled bitterly; that, at least, probably wouldn't be hard.

   He asked himself for the thousandth time whether or not he 
hated Ranma, and was again surprised to find that the answer 
was no. It would be, he supposed, like hating the ocean for 
drowning people. Ranma was a horribly skilled wild animal, 
and needed to be put down, or at least steered away from his 
people.

   Some of the elders had wanted to bring him into the tribe, 
like the law called for. The boy clenched his fists at the 
thought, fighting down the wave of nausea that accompanied it. 
Khu Lon, matriarch, clan elder, ancestor, had seen Saotome for 
what he was, and had told the boy what must be done.

   The train ground to a stop, and he stood to make his way 
down the aisle. An unexpected lurch of the floor caused him to 
stumble, and the conductor peered at him with concern.

   "Hey, kid! Can you see okay?"

   The boy shrugged. "Fine, yes, yes. Thank you."

   "Okay, just thought with that eyepiece you have on..."

   "Can see fine, thank you."

   He sighed. He hated trains, he hated Japan, and he hated 
wearing this thing.

   Disembarking, he walked through the station, unsure of 
where to go next. Ranma was somewhere in Nerima. Nerima 
was not exactly small.

   If he were Ranma, where would he go?

   Out raping and pillaging, he thought sourly. 

   No, it had to be something of permanence. The vision had 
been very clear on that. Saotome would settle in Nerima, and 
then....

    <-Great-Grandmother! What is that?->

    <-He gathers forces around him, child->

    < The whirlpool spiraled around him, water roaring against 
the jagged rocks lining it, and at it's heart was Ranma. Ranma, 
standing over the bleeding body of a red-haired girl, his 
triumphant laughter mingling with her screams of horror and 
the crashing of the waves. The waters took forms; a twenty-
armed woman of deceit, two siblings of flame, a woman 
superimposed upon a small boy, a man who held a beam of 
sunlight, and a girl who was somehow a key, and a sword, and 
something too blindingly pure to be real....>

   <The waves converged.>

   <Shouts arose, of fury and grief and of savage joy, only to be 
drowned out by the rising crash of the waves. >

   <-Great-Grandmother, I cannot see! What is the outcome?->

   <-Child, this is an omen, not a film. I have given you the 
place and the players. You must be the one to tell me how it 
ends.->

   <-Yes, Great-Grandmother.->

   <-Mu Tsu, do you understand?->

   He forced his memories away. Stupid Mousse.

   Stupid, stupid Mousse.

   Perhaps Saotome was training. He did, after all, seem to live 
for his killer's skills. Yes. 

   He would need a room with a telephone, and a business 
directory. 

   Turning, the boy walked out into the night. It obligingly 
swallowed him.

^_-

   Morning came early to the park. Joggers puffed along their 
accustomed trails, vagrants roused themselves from benches, 
children happily threw themselves onto playground equipment. 
Squirrels chattered critically at all the activity from the 
bushes, and waited for food to be left unattended.

   In the exact center of the park, past a wooded region of 
bamboo stands and light trees, lay a small lake. It wasn't very 
deep; a man could easily wade across if he didn't mind the 
scummy water ruining his clothing.

   At the center of the lake was a island, rising out of the 
water, and thick with reeds and saplings. And at the center of 
the island, out of sight beyond the shielding vegetation, were 
two tents, one sporting a large red star.

   The Hibikis, aware that Ranma might decide to find them, 
had chosen the most defensible place in the park to set up 
camp. The fact that police or park custodians would likely be 
unable to find them was also appealing.

   At least, thought Nabiki, those were probably the reasons for 
building it there. They were certainly the reasons she'd select 
the site for.

   She stood on the shoreline, staring across the water at the 
isle, shivering slightly beneath her toggle coat. It was cold out 
here in the mornings, especially when you were standing next 
to a large body of water.

   And she really didn't feel like wading.

   Okay. The Hibiki lunatics wouldn't stand for ruining their 
clothing every time they wanted to go for a walk. Ergo, there 
must be a way to cross without getting soaking wet.

   Perhaps a boat of some sort?

   Trotting around the shoreline, Nabiki peered into the denser 
clumps of reeds. Nothing.

   Maybe a, hmm, a glider?

   She shook her head. That was ridiculous.

   Something to carry them over the water, perhaps? A line, 
or...

   Nabiki looked up at the trees, checking to see whether any of 
the branches were long enough to bridge the lake. Nope. Nor did 
any of them hold a rope to go hand over hand across.

   She swore. Unless they were the next coming of the 
Christian Jesus and could walk across water, she just didn't 
see how they managed it.

    Okay. Analytical thinking time. She didn't know how they got 
across and back. What did she know?

   Peering about the shore, Nabiki looked for anything out of the 
ordinary, anything that didn't blend. A broken bush, perhaps, 
or...

   There. There was a jagged hole in the ground, a shallow 
crater. 

   Walking over to it, Nabiki examined it critically. How did a 
hole in the ground help them cross?

   No, wrong line of thought. Better - why was there a hole in 
the ground?

   Answer - something had been pulled out of the earth. What? 
A rock.

   Nabiki grinned.

   Doing a swift circuit of the area, she found five other holes.     
She also found a bamboo shaft that would do nicely, once she 
harvested it. Closing her eyes, she focused herself.

   "TAO!"

   Her hand impacted the hard bamboo, and the slender tree 
snapped neatly in half. Wincing, Nabiki picked up the newly-
made staff. Akane might break piles of bricks into rubble for 
jollies, but Nabiki was only up to stacks of wood, and those 
infrequently at best. Martial arts were a handy tool for self-
defense and self-discipline, but Nabiki felt no urge to progress 
beyond a simple black belt.

   Moving to the shore, she poked at the water with the staff. It 
was around here some.. ah, there it was.

   Clever, those two. They had taken rocks and placed then just 
under the waterline, perhaps an inch or two below the surface. 
The murky, algae-filled water hid them from sight, and gave 
the Hibikis a set of concealed stepping stones. Very cute.

   Carefully, using the pole as a balance, Nabiki stepped onto 
the first stone. It felt slightly greasy beneath her rubber 
soles; lake scum had already begun to grow on it. Lifting the 
pole, she poked about until she found the next step.

   Extending her right leg forward as far as possible, placing 
the staff to the bottom to serve as a stabilizer, she hopped 
across. Two down, four more...

   Her eyes narrowed. If the rocks were evenly spaced... and a 
quick prod with the pole told her that the next one was... then 
only three more stones should have been needed.

   Hefting the bamboo pole, she forcefully pressed it against 
the submerged top of the next stone. Sure enough, it tilted 
when weight was placed on it. Had she hopped to it, she would 
have found herself in the lake.

   Smirking to herself a bit, Nabiki poked a ways behind the 
rock. The staff's tip hit the fourth stone almost immediately. 

   Nabiki sighed. This was going to be more of a jump than a 
hop.

   She tensed the muscles of her legs and leaped, using the pole 
as a vaulting aid. Her jump brought her down on the fourth rock 
in a crouch; she swayed, tightened her grip on the pole to 
steady herself, and rested for a few seconds.

   A few seconds work found the fifth stone, and then the sixth. 
Stepping onto the shore, Nabiki carefully set the pole down 
against a stand of similar bamboo trees.

   Then the sound of clapping reached her.

   Turning, she noticed the two Hibiki siblings sitting on a 
hammock slung between two trees, neutral expressions on 
their faces as they applauded.

^_-

   *ring*ring*ring*

   "Tendo-ke, moshi-moshi."

   "You have student? Saotome Ranma?"

   "Oh my, Ranma? I think he's still asleep. Did you want to talk 
to him?"

   *click*

   "Hello? Hello?" Puzzled, Kasumi placed the phone back on 
it's cradle and resumed her dusting. It couldn't, she supposed, 
have been very important. Should she mention it to Ranma? 
Why bother? Besides, Ranma needed to be concentrating on 
more important things, like school, and getting three well-
balanced meals, and marrying Akane.

   Kasumi smiled. They really were perfect for each other. Both 
were incredibly violent people. Not at all like her or Nabiki...

   She frowned. How did Nabiki ever expect to get a husband if 
she persisted on being independent and opportunistic? 
Admittedly it did bring in a lot of badly-needed money, but 
still...

   Perhaps Nabiki had gotten up early to meet a boy? A 
romantic cup of coffee, perhaps? That would be nice. 

^_-

   "Tea, Miss Tendo? Coffee?"

   "Coffee, thanks," Nabiki replied, slightly amused by the 
bandanna'd Hibiki's solitiousness. They had walked through a 
clump of trees to a small campsite; two tents, a few folding 
chairs, and a firepit. A laundry line had been set up between 
two branches.

   Koji poured her a cup of jet black liquid from a metal pot 
that had been set in the fire's dying embers. "Here you are."

   "Thanks." She took a gulp, feeling the need for some sort of 
stimulant. It was, after all, much more early than she was 
accustomed to rising...

   "Careful, it's..."

   She choked a little as the coffee hit her tongue, and 
swallowed with difficulty. 

   "...a bit strong. More Espresso than coffee, really."

   Nabiki glared at him. Koji managed to look apologetic. Mariko 
just looked amused.

    Right, Nabiki thought. To business. "Okay. I've told you my 
name, and I already know who you two are. I want to cut a 
deal."

   Mariko scowled. "If you're here to plead for Saotome's life, 
you're wasting your time. I already told your sister..."

   "'Told' isn't what you did, lady," snapped Nabiki. "You tried 
to blow her head off. Now listen - I'm not my sister. I don't 
want to stop you from killing Ranma; on the contrary. I want 
what you want."

   The Hibikis seemed taken aback. Koji swirled his own cup, 
and squinted at her thoughtfully.

   "No offense, Miss Tendo, but why? He's a guest in your house, 
and your sister's in love with him."

    Nabiki nodded. "Exactly. _I_know_what_he_is_. And I think 
that he knows that I know." She closed her eyes for a second, 
purposefully letting the stress of the past week show. "I don't 
know what kind of sick game he's playing with Akane, but I 
don't like it. And I'm afraid of what might happen when he 
decides it's time for the game to end."

   Nodding, Mariko poured herself a cup of coffee. "You're very 
perceptive, Tendo-san."

   "Nabiki, please."

   "Nabiki. Very perceptive." Sipping the coffee, she visibly 
sagged, her powerful frame seeming to deflate. "I wish that I 
had been so concerned about Ranma years ago. I might still 
have another brother."

   Frowning slightly, Koji placed his hand on his sister's. 
"Marichan, we've been through this before." Mariko nodded, and 
straightened a bit. "So," she said, gazing at Nabiki, "what sort 
of deal are you looking for?"

   Nabiki put on her best salesperson's face and voice. "I'm no 
fighter, not like you two..."

   "Black belt, I'd guess."

   "Very good," Nabiki replied. "I've had some training. Ranma 
would rip out my heart and feed it to me in a matter of 
seconds. What I do have, however, is information." She leaned 
forward, her eyes glinting with the thrill of the deal. She was 
about to reveal part of her hand, and a part that might well be 
fatal to her if Ranma ever learned of it.

   "When you first saw Ranma, Koji, that day in the street... you 
were being watched. When you ate lunch together in the Akai 
no Kasa, you were being watched. Yesterday, when you almost 
put Ranma out of our misery, you were being watched."

   "You've been spying on us," Mariko said sourly. "I was 
wondering how you knew where we had camped."

   Nabiki shrugged. "I keep people watching everything that 
bears a relation to Ranma. Him, I have watched every time he 
leaves the house. I'd bug the rooms if I wasn't sure he'd find 
them."

   Koji stared at her. Mariko just whistled. "Thorough, aren't 
we?"

   Another shrug. "It's a living; quite literally in this case."

   "So," Koji said, "you have Ranma followed and you have us 
followed. What's the deal?" He looked a bit annoyed, Nabiki 
noticed, probably at the revelation that he had been watched 
without his knowledge. Hibiki Koji, she felt, was the 
straightforward type.

   "The deal, Koji-san, is that I feed you information. News on 
his whereabouts, his habits, his routines, what he has for 
dinner, how many squares of toilet paper he uses. Know your 
enemy, right?"

   Both Hibikis smiled predator's grins.

   Nabiki considered her next statement carefully. "In return, I 
want your word that you won't harm me, my sister, or any 
other member of my family. For ANY reason. Got that?"

   Koji rubbed his chin. "Nabiki-san, we have nothing against 
any of your family. I don't see why you think we'd hurt..."

   "Gee, maybe because you almost blew my sister's head off 
yesterday?" Nabiki snarled. "The fact that you didn't wasn't 
through lack of trying."

   Mariko shrugged. "I was shooting at Saotome. Akane got in 
the way."

    "Next time, you will hold your damn fire," Nabiki replied, 
her tone icy. "That's my deal. If killing Ranma means that me 
or mine get hurt in the process, you find another way."

   Silence fell for a few seconds, as the siblings thought this 
over. Finally, Mariko nodded. "I'll take that deal, on two 
conditions. First, if Akane attacks me, I _will_ defend myself, 
non-lethally if that's an option. Second, if it's a choice 
between a Tendo or me and Koji dying, I'll kill you in a 
heartbeat. Is that acceptable?"

   Nabiki pondered the deal. The terms Mariko was asking for 
were reasonable; asking either of them to let Akane beat them 
up was too much, and she suspected that both of the two would 
break the deal to save the other's life regardless of the 
bargain she struck. "That sounds reasonable."

   Reluctantly, Koji nodded. "I didn't really want to hurt anyone 
else anyway. Ranma's caused enough pain; his death shouldn't 
bring any more of it."

   Nabiki sighed. "It's going to anyway, whatever else it does. 
Akane's going to be heartbroken, and I'm going to be left with 
one hell of a guilt trip." A worrisome thought passed through 
her mind. "Whatever you do, don't let anyone know I'm helping 
you. Ranma would probably arrange for me to have an accident 
on the spot, and Akane would never forgive me." 

   "Look, Nabiki," Mariko said, hesitantly, "why on earth is 
Akane so attached to him? I met her, talked to her, and she 
seems like a real nice person. Ranma, on the other hand, is a 
psycho. What the hell does she see in him?"

   Rubbing her eyes, Nabiki took another sip of her coffee. 
"Akane... has always been a sucker for hurt things. Baby birds, 
squirrels with broken legs, sick cats. And then Ranma comes, 
all handsome and mysterious and obviously broken, and the 
mother-protector part of her kicked in." Swirling the bitter 
liquid in her mouth, Nabiki suddenly realized something else.  
"And there is sort of a... rightness, I guess, about the two of 
them." Noticing the Hibikis' incredulous stares, she nodded. "It 
sounds crazy, I know, but there's this weird chemistry. Almost 
like they were made for one another. Only Akane's too busy 
playing mother hen, and Ranma... I don't think Ranma cares. I 
don't think Ranma cares much of about anything."

   "But he's a killer!" blurted Koji. "He _murdered_ my brother! 
How can she..."

   "She's in love. Worse, she doesn't know she's in love. She'll 
rationalize it somehow, with his help." Nabiki paused, 
something striking her in a burst of inspiration. "I bet, deep 
down, she knows he's what he is. I think she wants to 
_reform_ him."

   Mariko stared at her for a few seconds, and then began to 
coldly laugh. "If she thinks that, she's in for an unpleasant 
surprise. The only thing that'll improve him is death. 
Preferably a lingering, painful, exquisite one."

   Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Full of love and human feeling, 
aren't we?"

   Snorting, Mariko took another pull of coffee. "You want him 
dead just as much as we do, Tendo."

   "I want him out of the way. You sound like you want him to 
suffer for no other reason than the suffering."

   Mariko leaned forward, her eyes fever-bright. "He took away 
one of the most important people in my life. He killed my 
brother, Nabiki. He didn't even do it under the coverage of the 
stupid code of honor my brother thinks so highly of. Saotome 
Ranma murdered a helpless person, and I'm going to enjoy 
every second of his dying moments."

   "It's none of my business," Nabiki slowly replied, "but I'd 
consider getting some help after you're through. Because when 
you talk about Ranma, you almost remind me of him." 

   "That's enough!" Koji barked, glaring at Nabiki. "Tendo-san, 
I'll thank you not to make that comparison again!"

   "Sure thing, Koji." Standing, Nabiki set the now-empty cup 
on a nearby log. "And now, I've got to be on my way. Ciao." As 
she moved through the barrier of trees surrounding the camp, a 
thought suddenly struck her. "By the way... why on an island?"

   Both of the Hibikis turned bright red.

   "Well," Koji sheepishly explained, "it makes it harder to 
wander off and get lost."

   "Right." Shaking her head in disbelief, Nabiki began to look 
for her pole.

^_-

   Ranma walked across the lawn. The boy watched him.

   Interesting. He was laughing. He hadn't known Saotome could 
laugh, any more than a tiger or a crocodile could.

   "Your turn, Akane!"

   The black-haired girl picked up the golf club and swung, 
sending the ball skittering to the very mouth of the overturned 
drinking glass that was apparently serving as the third hole. 
"Ha! A birdie for sure, Ranma. This game's mine."

   "Oh yeah? I'll have you know, Miss Tendo, that I've never lost 
a game of backyard golf in my life."

   "Oh really? And have you ever played before?"

   "Nope."

   More laughter, from both of them. The boy shook his head in 
disbelief. THIS was the demon who had ripped through his life 
and mangled it? He had expected to find him at home 
disemboweling babies and torturing virgins, not being beaten 
in lawn golf by a Japanese schoolgirl.

   "Hi Akane, Ranma. How's it going?"

   "Hi Oneechan! Just playing golf. I'm winning."

   "Hello, Nabiki-san."

    The boy stiffened.

   "Ranma. I see my sister is getting the best of you."

   "Yes, well, these things take time to master. Back from a 
walk?"

   They were talking on several levels, these two, and they 
didn't like each other much. This was the person he was 
looking for, the killer, the animal.

   "Yup. I've decided to start jogging on the weekends, in the 
early morning. You know what they say about the early bird..."

   "You should be careful, Nabiki-san. All sorts of strange 
people out there, especially early in the morning. Make sure 
you aren't alone, ever."

   "Thanks for the advice, Ranma. But I can take good care of 
myself."

    The new arrival walked into the house, and the boy watched 
as Saotome resumed his bantering with the one he had called 
Akane.

   Very interesting.

   He had a plan.

^_-  

   > Although the Hibikis are undeniably dangerous and unstable, 
they also seem to possess a basic humanity and decency 
lacking in Ranma. You are advised to take the utm <

    A knocking on the door to her bedroom caused Nabiki to 
glance up from her laptop. Quickly saving and closing the 
letter, she slid across the bed to within easy reach of a 
certain switch. "Come in."

   The door opened, and Ranma strolled in, shutting it behind 
him. A unpleasant sensation began to form in the pit of her 
stomach.

   "Ranma. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

   He smiled widely, and the unpleasant sensation increased.

    "Nabiki, Nabiki.... while I do enjoy our little verbal fencing 
matches, I think it's time to talk plainly, don't you?"

   Her heart leapt. Perhaps she could end it all right here, 
without anyone killing anyone else. "Sure, Ranma. I think 
you're a sick little boy who gets his thrills by playing games 
with people. I think you enjoy hurting people. And I _know_ I 
want you out of my house as soon as possible. Plain enough for 
you?"

   As she finished her speech, she flicked the switch, turning 
on the audio mike hidden behind her dresser. The one which 
recorded into a tape, and also played on the speaker she had 
placed in the living room.

   Ranma laughed softly. "You think I enjoy hurting people? Me? 
Poor, lonely, guilt-wracked Saotome Ranma?" Before Nabiki 
could blink, he had crossed the room and grabbed her by the 
throat, pushing her back against the wall. "How very 
perceptive of you."

   Nabiki swallowed, fighting back the waves of pure terror 
that threatened to overwhelm her. "Get your hands off me. 
Now."

   "Sure thing."

   She was airborne for a second, and then landed hard against 
the far wall. Something broke underneath her, cutting painfully 
into her right leg.

    "I don't like you very much, Nabiki. I don't like your nasty, 
suspicious, catty little mind. I don't like the way you try to 
get Akane to turn against me. And I especially don't like how 
good you are at seeing things."

   "You don't care about Akane at all, do you?" Say you don't, 
say you don't and that will clinch everything.

   "Akane's mine. It's none of your business what I feel about 
her. Or what I decide to do with her. She Is Mine."

    Perfect. Nabiki struggled to her feet, smiling slightly. 
"Surprise, Ranma. You're on the air as we speak. The game's 
over."

   Ranma clapped his hands to the sides of his mouth in mock 
surprise. "Oh no! My evil plans are undone! Curses, foiled 
again!"

   Nabiki eyed him warily, an uneasy feeling adding itself to 
the legion of worries and outright fear she was barely  
managing to contain. He looked about, peering at the walls and 
ceiling in an exaggerated manner.

   "Well, drat. Hey, Akane! I'm going to rape and kill your sister, 
okay?" He cocked his head to one side, and listened for a few 
seconds. "Hmm. No objections."

   Nabiki shrank back as he advanced. "You're... you're only 
digging yourself in deeper, Ranma... someone's probably already 
called the police, if you... if you run now, you could probably..."

   He tossed something at her, and she caught it reflexively. It 
was a small circuitboard.

   "Nabiki-chan, did you really think I wouldn't check to see 
what toys you had in your room before coming in to have our 
little chat?"

   "I'll scream..."

   Like a striking snake his hand was again at her throat, this 
time tight enough to cut off all noise. She could see the light 
in his eyes, feel the warmth of his breath, and she tried to 
scream, as she had told him she would.

   "I can feel the air coming from your lungs, Nabiki... but I 
don't hear anything. You might as well stop; screaming will 
only hurt your throat."

   His other hand moved to the front of her shirt, fiddled 
almost playfully with the top button.

   "I wanted to kill you that first day, you know. The second you 
poked me in my girl-body's chest," the hand moved inside her 
shirt to cup her left breast, fingers squeezing painfully, "I 
decided I'd... remove you." His grip tightened, and tears 
appeared in her eyes despite her resolve. She wanted to vomit. 

   "And so here we are, just you... and me... didn't I tell you not 
to ever be alone?"

   Her mind began to compartment itself off, distancing itself 
from what was going to happen.

   The pressure on her breast eased, the hand withdrew, and a 
new fumbling began around her jeans, then a loosening as the 
front button was undone...

   "I thought, that night, that I'd have you a couple times, break 
your neck, and leave you under a bridge or in a dumpster." The 
buttons on her fly began to pop open, one by one by one. "It took 
me a while to decide which, but I finally settled on the 
dumpster as being more appropriate. There's a great one down 
behind the slaughterhouse; the smell of all the other decaying 
pigs should keep everyone away but a few hungry rats."

   There was a touch moving down along the outer surface of 
her underwear, she noticed absently.

   "That was my idea, anyway." Fingers slid underneath the 
silk, brushed lightly through the hair that lay underneath. The 
urge to vomit came again, almost pierced the wall of distance 
she had built.

   "But I decided against it."

   And with that, he released her throat and shoved her, sending 
her tumbling against the bed. Gasping for air, she crawled 
away from where he stood, an amused look on his face.

   "I know you've been cooking up something, Nabiki. Whatever 
it is, shut it down. Or you'll trip and fall in front of traffic, or 
take a tumble off a bridge, or go swimming and drown. And if 
I'm really upset, or just feeling playful, I might have a bit of 
fun with you first. Okay?"

   She wanted to tell him what he could do with his fun. She 
wanted to rip his eyes from their sockets. "Okay," she rasped, 
massaging her throat with one hand. She would wait.

   "Good. I'm glad we had this little talk, Nabiki-san. I feel 
we've really cleared the air. You go back to your work, now." 
Turning, he opened the door and strolled out.

    Slowly, carefully, Nabiki stood up and rebuttoned her jeans. 
She didn't, her mind noted, feel the urge to bathe. And he hadn't 
actually touched her _there_, which was something. She hadn't 
been raped, which had been a certainty just a few moments 
ago. And she was alive.

   She just needed a few more days to prepare a trap, one from 
which he wouldn't be able to escape alive. Any hesitation she 
had felt towards killing him was gone.

   And now she needed to finish the report to her colleagues, 
not mentioning this of course, not this not thisnothisnotthis...

   She was crying, which was intolerable. She _never_ cried. A 
confrontation like that was nothing to cry about, she was okay, 
she was a businesswoman and not a scared girl...

    In just a few minutes, she would stop crying and finish the 
report. And then she would be just fine.

^_-

   Akane whistled to herself as she picked up the cups from the 
golf game. She was glad Ranma had enjoyed it; she hadn't seen 
him so relaxed since he came here. Getting that story off his 
chest had been the best thing he could have done.

   Although he had seemed a bit tense when Nabiki had come 
home. She frowned. Nabiki was up to something, and Ranma 
seemed almost afraid of her at times.

   <"Nabiki just wants my money, and...wants me to..." He 
blushed a bit, and the despairing look got deeper...>

   Akane frowned again. If Nabiki was blackmailing him, or...

   The bonbori crashed into the back of her head, then, and she 
knew nothing more.

-< End of Chapter 5 >-