Chapter 8 - Escalation

 Drinking coffee, have to stay awake and think of you
 Aching awfully, knowing my perceptions aren't true
 If you were what I've made you, not as your acts betrayed you
 How could I keep away?
 But things still lead me on, a word and then it's gone
 What lives here and what's stray?
 Tell me please, what's signal and what's noise?
   -The Flash Girls

   Kuno slowly limped home, his tiny mind filled with thoughts 
of love.

   She was an angel! A goddess! A woman of unsurpassed 
strength and beauty, bursting with health and energy! A fitting 
contrast to the pure, tidy, ravishing Tendo Akane, his other 
goddess on earth...

   "I SHALL DATE THEM BOTH!" he thundered, badly startling a 
large poodle sleeping under a nearby bench.

   Yes! He would free Akane from the vile Saotome and his 
hordes of elephants! He would compose more poetry to delight 
the spirited Hibiki Mariko, and gift her with the contents of an 
entire florist's shop! After all, she had said she liked the 
flowers, and liked his poetry, and then... then she had touched 
him!

   His mind edited out the fact that the touch had been with the 
blunt end of a heavy umbrella aimed for his cranium.

   "HIBIKI MARIKO, YOU SHALL BE MINE! SO SWEARS BLUE 
THUNDER!" he bellowed.

   The thoroughly annoyed poodle trotted up and bit him on the 
ankle.

   "ZOUNDS!"

   The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High frantically thrashed his 
left leg. The poodle tightened its grip, and snarled.

   "VILE HOUND, REMOVE THYSELF!"

   Kuno halted to pry the dog off, muttering a few choice 
epithets as he did. Tossing it over a nearby fence, he stumped 
homewards.

   He started ranting two blocks later. The poodle caught up to 
him again three minutes afterwards.  It picked his right leg 
this time.

^_-

   Akane stumbled into the bathroom, her head spinning and her 
vision slightly unfocused. Ripping off her gi and underclothes, 
she slowly climbed into the hot furo without bothering to 
wash the sweat from her body with the bucket of cold water. 
t was a bit of a social gaffe, and inconsiderate to later 
bathers, but Akane didn't care at the moment.

   She felt like one gigantic, living bruise, and she wanted 
nothing but to soak in a tub of nice, warm, soothing water.

   It stung a bit as she lowered herself in. Wincing, she 
gradually eased into the water, her abused skin adapting to the 
warmth and finding it pleasant. And, to a certain extent, 
painkilling.

   Relaxing, she examined herself through the water. There was 
a nasty black-blue mark running along her right side, and a few 
smaller ones along her legs and arms. A small cut marred her 
left shoulder, matching the tear in her gi. She'd have to look in 
the mirror to find out if there was any marks on her head, but 
she didn't think there were. He had aimed most of his blows 
towards her torso.

   God, she thought, it had been incredible.

   That was sparring, real sparring. Ranma had been right. Her 
father would have never taken things that far, would have 
pulled his punches.

   She had been crying tears of pain after the first fifteen 
falls, and her side had been on fire. And she had kept going.

   It had taken her four hours, but she had finally managed to 
beat Ranma's leap. On the ninety-second try, she had grabbed 
him out of the air and thrown him into a wall.

   She smiled, wincing slightly as she shifted position in the 
steaming water. There was no way she could have seized him 
in midair like that, no way she could have hurled him into the 
side of the dojo with enough force to break the wall. She 
wasn't fast enough or strong enough.

   But she had done it anyway.

   And she knew she could do it again, now. 

   And that was after only four hours.

   It would have taken her months, the old way, the slow way, 
the easy way, the safe way. This... she might not become as 
good as Ranma, but he would be the only one who could beat 
her. And with the two of them together, the Hibiki's and the 
Amazons would have no choice but to give up. Give up or be 
crushed. And then Rana and her could have some peace. 
Together.

   Akane grinned fiercely. It felt good to be on the way back up.

   The door creaked, and Ranma walked in.

   She squawked slightly, and sunk deeper into the tub.

   From his position by the door, Ranma looked amused. "Haven't 
we been through this already?"

   Akane laughed hesitantly, still keeping low, only her head 
emerging from the steaming water. "Yeah, I guess."

   He walked over to the stool and water bucket, turned his 
back, and stripped.

   She did her very best not to watch. Well, almost her best. 
Okay, she finally admitted, watching as he emptied the cold 
water over his form, she wasn't doing a very good job at all. A 
pretty lousy one, in fact.

   Not, she told herself, that she was looking at him because... 
because... because he was a he. No, it was because he wasn't a 
he anymore. Her eyes had trouble telling exactly when he 
changed....

   "That must be pretty weird," she said, somewhat lamely.

   Ranma turned, continuing to douse herself with the contents 
of the bucket. "Yeah, you could say that. You women are put 
together all different than us guys."

   Akane giggled. "I'd hope so."

   Flushing, Ranma grinned. "Well, not just like that, I mean. 
Inside, too. Some of the joints are hinged differently, and my 
guts feel all different. It's kinda unpleasant at first, like 
someone took everything out of your stomach and put it back in 
the wrong order."

   Wincing, Akane raised herself slightly in the water. He 
_was_ a she now, after all. "Ugh."

   "Yeah. I got used to it eventually. But I still don't like it."

   She tilted her head, the ends of her hair brushing the surface 
of the steaming water. "Do you have to change often?"

   Ranma frowned slightly. "Not really. For the most part, only 
when I bathe or get caught in the rain. It's not like people are 
throwing buckets of water at me all the time. But most of the 
water we had for bathing in China was all cold, so I had to get 
used to this form pretty quick." She gave a shrt bark of 
laughter. "I was scared to death that I was gonna start 
thinking about cute guys, or worrying what kind of dress would 
look good on me. But it's in body only, mostly."

   "Mostly?"

   She flushed. "Yeah. I don't start thinking about cute guys, but 
I do lose a lot of the drive men get. You know, towards 
women." She shivered slightly, putting down the bucket. "You 
going to be much longer in there?"

   Damn, Akane thought sourly. She had wanted to soak for a 
good half hour. "You're a girl, ne? In body? Just get in with me."

   "But..."

    She sighed. "Girls bathe together all the time, and I don't 
feel like getting out yet. Get in."

   "Uh, Akane..."

   She shook her head, exasperated. "Look, I've spent four hours 
doing what you told me and getting bruises from it. Your turn 
to do what I say. Get in. I'm getting cold just watching you."

   Ranma shrugged, walked over to the furo, and plopped in next 
to her, sending water splashing.

   Akane wiped the droplets out of her eyes. "There, this isn't 
so...." She trailed off, staring at the person sitting next to her.

   Ranma smirked. "Cold water female, hot water male, 
remember?" He ran his eyes over her. "If the water's hot 
enough to turn you pink, what did you expect?"

   Akane turned a deep, deep red, sank lower, and moved 
slightly away. "I forgot."

   "Heh. Well, don't say I didn't try to warn you." Closing his 
eyes, he leaned back in the water, seeming to luxuriate in the 
warmth. Akane stared at him for a second, careful to keep her 
eyes well above the waterline, and then blushed slightly.

   "Doesn't it embarrass you to be..." she trailed off.

   "Naked in front of a girl?" He shrugged, his eyes still closed. 
"Not really. And I can look at myself anytime I feel like, so 
seeing a girl doesn't really mean much to me anymore."

   Akane shifted uncomfortably. "What if my Dad comes in or 
something?"

   "At two in the morning? Then he's got really weird bathing 
habits." Opening his eyes, he lifted his head slightly. "If t 
worries you that much, you can always get out. Now that I'm 
in, though, I'm going to soak for a while." With that, he leaned 
back and closed his eyes again.

   She bit her lip in frustration. Ranma obviously wasn't going 
to be getting out of the furo any time soon.

   Well, neither would she, then. If he thought he could 
embarrass her out of the tub so easily, he had another thing 
coming.

   Muscles newly tense, she leaned back, emulating him, and 
slowly relaxed her body. But, much as she tried, she was still 
very aware of Ranma's nude form, his leg only a few inches 
from her own.

   He seemed about as aware of her as he would be of a tree 
stump.

   After about five minutes, she began to wonder if he had 
fallen asleep.

   "Ranma?"

   "Hmm?" He was obviously awake after all.

   "How'd I do today?"

   His eyes opened, and he glanced over at her. "Not bad. You 
found a counter to that attack an hour earlier than I expected. 
It hurt much?"

   She shifted, feeling the bruised areas twinge. "Yes."

   "Good."

   Akane gaped at him. "Good? Good?!"

   He grinned. "People get hurt in real fights. That's one of your 
big problems at the moment... you're strong, but you just don't 
have the endurance that you need. The way you're going to get 
it is by getting used to being pounded on." He shrugged. "If you'd 
been fully trained, Tsen wouldn't have been able to get you like 
that. First, you'd have sensed him before he got near you. 
Second, even if you hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to take 
you down with one blow."

   A suspicion began to dawn in Akane's mind. "The main thrust 
of that exercise wasn't to have me come up with a counter, 
was it."

   The grin grew wider. "Very good. Even the most willing 
students are adverse to training sessions where they just 
stand there and get hit, so we do it this way. Besides, I think 
you increased your speed a bit, and you learned some of the 
real fundamentals of strategy. So think of it as cross-
training."

   "The other sessions won't be quite hat bad, then, right?" It 
was a stupid question, she knew that the second she spoke it.

   Ranma seemed to examine her for a second, his gaze moving 
from her face to the bruise on her side, to her legs, and then 
back to the bruise. He smiled slightly.

   "The others are going to be a lot worse. At the moment, I'm 
just trying to toughen you up so that the real lessons won't 
kill you."

   Akane just stared at him.

   "I knew Mariko, you know, before..." His smile faltered, 
slipped away. "She used to come talk with us, bring us snacks, 
that kind of thing. Anyway, she got careless one day, waving to 
me and Ryouga from the school window, and she fell out. Third 
floor."

   "Oh my God..."

   "Yeah. She landed almost face first, stood up, and brushed 
herself off. She was really embarrassed."

   "You've got to be joking." 

   Ranma shook his head. "I could do it too. So could Koji, 
probably Tsen and Shampoo as well. The Hibiki's are just a lot 
tougher than us by breeding, and a lot of their style focuses 
around being able to ignore impacts. That's why..." He trailed 
off, and a look of pain flashed briefly. "It's really easy to 
forget. When I fight someone like that, I hit them with stuff 
that would kill a normal person. Because they'd just shrug off 
anything else. It's so easy to forget...." He shook his head, the 
hopeless look she was coming to dread appearing.

   Reflexively, Akane reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. 
Almost immediately afterward, she wondered it it had been 
such a smart thing to do. She really didn't like the way her 
body was reacting to the touch of him... actually, she did like 
it, and that was the problem.

   Ranma was... looking at her. She was having trouble reading 
his expression. Hadn't she removed her hand yet? What the hell 
was she thinking?

   With an effort, she stood, water dripping from her as she 
stepped out of the furo. "Any more of that and I'm going to get 
wrinkles from the water.

   "Can't have that." There was a thick, odd catch to his voice.

   "Yeah. Well... I'm going to get some sleep. See you in the 
morning!"

   "Okay."

   Akane tossed on a robe, gritting her teeth slightly as the 
material slid along her injuries, and left the furo.

   Ranma stayed in the water for another minute, perfectly 
motionless. Then, getting out, he took a bar of soap and began 
to violently scrub at the place where her hand had fallen.

^_-

   Genma passed out for a moment, only to be awakened again 
by a savage kick to the ribs.

   "Get up, old man. I'm not done with you yet."

   With a sigh of resignation, Genma gamely went through the 
motions to trying to fight back for another half-hour. It hurt. A 
lot. The boy was _good_ with that giant spatula of his.

   Finally, as he collapsed into a bleeding, whimpering heap for 
the tenth time, the boy seemed satisfied. "I've been waiting to 
do that for a long time, you fat bastard. Now. Where's Ranma?"

   Raising himself by one arm, Genma painfully turned to regard 
his tormentor. A fairly muscular lad, if slender, with long 
black hair and a really unpleasant smile that was making cold 
chills run down an already sore back. Oddly familiar, 
somehow...

  "I didn't know old Kuonji Tamu had a son," he wheezed. 

   "He didn't," the boy answered flatly. "At least, not until you 
and your son ran out on me."

   Genma blinked with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. 
"Ukyou?"

   She nodded. "Yeah. It's really been a lot of fun living as 
something I'm not for ten years, all because of one old man 
with a weird sense of honor and another with the morals of a 
thief. Real fun. Tell me where Ranma is, and you can go."

   His innate sense of self-preservation rose to the fore, but 
was quickly beaten down by his recently-discovered sense of 
duty. "You don't want to know that, Ukyou-san."

   She smiled. "Yes I do, Genma-san. And if you tell me real 
quick, I won't break any important bones of yours."

   Duty was taking quite a pounding, as the armies of fear 
arrived to reinforce self-preservation. "I can't tel you. You'd 
try to attack him."

   Snorting, Ukyou kicked him in the ribs, drawing a grunt of 
pain. "Yup. Don't worry, I'm not going to maim him or anything. 
Just... indicate my extreme displeasure. A few days of bed rest 
and he'll be fine. Talk, fat boy."

   "I'm not worried about you hurting him. It's the other way 
around."

   She frowned. "He's kept training, huh?"

   "Yes. But more than that..." Genma closed his eyes. He really 
didn't like telling this story. Even though he'd never breathed 
more than a hint of it to another living soul, the feelings of 
guilt still rose to torment him whenever he let his thoughts 
dwell upon it. "Two years after we left, Ranma had... a training 
accident."

   Ukyou's face briefly looked concerned. "He wasn't crippled or 
anything, right?"

   "Not in body. But.... he used to be a nice, open boy."

   "Yeah," she interjected bitterly. "Nice enough and open enough 
to steal my yattai and abandon..."

   Genma winced. She wasn't doing to like this. "Ranma didn't 
know."

   She blinked. "What?"

   "He didn't know that the yattai was stolen, he didn't know 
that I had engaged you, and most importantly... well... 
hethoughtyouwereaboy."

   "Repeat that."

   "He thought you were a boy."

   Ukyou stared at him. "You're lying."

   "No."

   Their gazes locked for almost a minute.

   Ukyou finally looked away. "You're not lying. Somehow, it all 
makes a disgusting sort of sense. I always thought Ranchan 
was too nice and too direct to run out on me. Only his slime ball 
of a father would do that." Her kick took him by surprise, 
slamming his head into the ground. "Now, what happened to 
Ranchan?"

   "He's not well. I think he might... I think he might not be 
sane."

   She snorted. "What, did he refuse to keep doing the ridiculous 
things you expected of him?"

   "He killed his best friend, about four years ago."

   The wind blew through the grass on the hill, the sound 
seeming unnaturally loud in Genma's ears.

   "Ranchan wouldn't do that," Ukyou said finally, er voice 
slightly unsteady. "Even the Ranma I was expecting wouldn't 
have done that. He could be really insensitive and dumb 
sometimes, but he cared..."

   "I know. He was a wonderful little boy who loved his father 
and was so proud, so excited about everything. And then 
something happened, and now..." Tears rose, and he forced them 
down with effort. "Ukyou-san, I'm here to decide whether or 
not I need to kill my own son before he can hurt anyone else."

   Ukyou stared at him with undisguised contempt. "What on 
earth did you do to him?"

   He told her.

   She stared at the ground for a long time.

   "I used to think I knew just how low you were, Saotome 
Genma, but I was wrong. I wouldn't have done that to my worst 
enemy, and you... God, to your own SON! No wonder he's got 
problems!"

   "I made a mistake..."

   "No," she said coldly, "this doesn't quite qualify as a mistake. 
Torturing your son in a way that'd make a Nazi puke doesn't 
really sound like a mistake at all."

   "It was for the training..."

   She grabbed him by the collar and shoved her face a bare 
centimeter from his, eyes burning with fury.

   "There are more important things than training. You'd know 
that if you saw Ranchan as a human being, not just something 
to teach."

   Summoning every shred of courage he had, Genma met that 
awful stare. "I know. I was blind, and stupid, and worse. I 
didn't really start loving my son until it was too late, and now 
I'd do anything to make him better."

   "So you ran away to decide whether or not to kill him." She 
snorted in disgust, and shoved him away. "Yeah, you're a real 
saint. Where's Ranchan now?"

   "Haven't you been listening?" he screamed, the guilt and 
anger and frustration pouring out of him in a wave. "He'll 
_hurt_ you if you attack him, you stupid girl! He might even 
kill you!"

   The spatula lashed out, the blunt end slamming into his 
stomach, doubling him over in agony.

   "I'm not going to attack him," Ukyou told him calmly. "I'm 
going to let him know his fiend still cares about him."

^_-

   A new day dawned.

   And, as if by common consent, moved by a universal desire to 
put off fate and abandon the fearful purposes they worked 
towards, the players in the unfolding drama did nothing.

   Akane had to will herself to get out of bed. She hid the 
purple bruise along her side under a long sleeved shirt that also 
covered the marks on her arms. Her step that day was delicate, 
her motions slow, and she grimaced often.

   Ranma hovered over her, helping her with minor tasks. Nabiki 
followed his lead, eyes calculating and shadowed. When she 
was around, anyway. Things to do. People to see.

   Koji and Mariko waited for someone who never came, 
breaking out their scrabble set to ward off boredom. Koji won 
on a triple word tile.

   Tsen - for he was Tsen - started on his way to the park five 
separate times. Each time he got no farther than the door.

   Kasumi did what she did best, and took care of the house.

   Soun read a good book. The butler did it around page 523.

   Genma applied salve to his many tangible wounds, ignored 
the intangible ones, and tried not to think about the previous 
day.

   And Kuonji Ukyou, her father's son, boarded a train to Tokyo.

   It was all very peaceful.

   It's always like that before the storm.

^_-

ntendo@furnkn8%: pi

Message from Talk_Daemon@furnkn at 09:47 ...
talk: connection requested by hikarut@LOCALHOST.
talk: respond with:  talk hikarut@LOCALHOST

ntendo@furnkn8%: pi^H^Htalk hikarut@localhost

[Connection Established.]

:: Tendo Nabiki-san.

>> Hello, Hikaru-san. Your report?

:: The Hibikis stayed in the park all day. Kuno Tatewaki showed 
::up.

:: He looked around and left.

>> Kuno? Looking for what?

:: Noisily looked around.

:: For what? He babbled to the air about his goddess on earth.

>> Why would Akane be at the park?

:: I don't think he was talking about your sister.

:: I think he's got someone new.

>> Well, that's one bit of good news. ;)

:: Here's another.

>> Hm?

:: Geki found the Chinese.
>> Both of them? Where?

:: I don't know, I assumed they'd stay together.

:: Where?

>> Yes, where. :P

:: Do you know where Gabufu is?

>> Low rent by the docks, yeah.

>> They sure aren't rich if they're holed up there.

:: Maybe they like the delicate aroma of dead fish? ;)

>> Very funny. You got the full address?

:: Of course. It and the full summary will be in your inbox by 
::the end of our conversation.

>> Good.

>> The neighborhood's just filling up with maniacs.

:: Tendo Nabiki-san.

>> Yes, Hikaru?

:: So sorry, but we haven't made a yen from Saotome, and we've 
::put a lot of work into him. 

:: Some of the others are getting very unhappy.

>> But not you?

:: I'm your most loyal friend and associate, Nabiki-san.

>> Boy, that's a depressing thought. ;)

:: You wound me! ;)

:: Still....?

>> Don't worry. There are a couple of people interested in 
>>buying information on Saotome.

>> Girls ogling his ass, and boys who want to keep out of his 
>>way.

>> I'll handle the sales myself.

:: Good. Although I am very curious about something.

>> Yes?

:: You obviously want Saotome to leave.

:: He's obviously going to be here for a while.

:: I was wondering what your intentions towards him were.

>> I don't know yet.

:: So sorry, I think you do. I think you're planning to have him 
::killed.

>>

>> Then you're not as bright as I thought you were, Hikaru.

>> Do I normally go around killing people I don't like?

:: No, but you're afraid of this one. Very afraid.

>> Exactly what is it that you want?

:: Me? Not a thing. Just be careful and don't implicate me.

>> Whatever.

:: Your report is mailed.

>> Thank you. I'll speak with you later.

>> Ciao

^Z

[Connection interrupted.]

ntendo@furnkn8%: logout

^_-

   Akane's run that morning was slower than her usual Saturday 
jog. While not as sore as the previous day, her left torso was 
still a ugly purple-blue, and she pointedly avoided leaning on  
it, or touching it. Or even wearing tight clothing.

   And Ranma had mentioned at breakfast that thy were going 
to train again tonight. 

   Half of her run was spent wondering what the lesson for 
today would consist of. The other half was spent coming up 
with defensive moves to protect her side. Just poking that 
spot would hurt a great deal, and Ranma would probably do 
considerably more than poke.

   So she ran with care, battle plans flashing through her head, 
eyes peeled for attackers. Ever since Tsen's surprise attack, 
every waking moment she spent away from Ranma was spent 
under the assumption that she was a target.

   Aside from going into a fighting stance over a particularly 
noisy rabbit, her vigilance hadn't exactly been paying off. 
Which, admittedly, suited her just fine.

   Panting slightly, she pulled to a stop in front of a kissaten. 
She usually had either a soda or an ice cream towards the end 
of her run; today she thought that she might have both. After 
the past few days, she deserved a small treat.

   Pushing open the glass door, she walked up to the counter. 
"Hi, Mrs. Osagi!"

   The matronly widow who ran the Akai no Kasa smiled back at 
her. "Hello, Akane. A cola today, or fudge ripple?"

   "Both, please." She liked the woman; Mrs. Osagi always was 
very kind and attentive, unlike her rude, distant waitress. 
Akane often found that when she dreamed about what her 
mother would have been like, the imaginary Mrs. Tendo 
resembled the cafe owner a great deal.

   Tsking, the widow began to fill a glass. "You'll get fat." 
Setting the cola on the counter, she studied Akane while 
spooning ice cream into a ceramic bowl. "Or maybe not. I 
wasn't as active as you when I was a young thing, and I never 
got fat. Of course," she handed the bowl to Akane, "we didn't 
have fudge ripple ice cream back then. Enjoy, dear."

   Akane laughed. "Thanks, Mrs. Osagi." Pushing some money 
across the counter, she walked across to her favorite booth, 
the one with the view of the nearby park through the window.

   Sitting, she frowned. She had a lot of pleasant memories of 
that park, but they were being drowned out by the events of a 
week ago. Stupid Hibikis. Why couldn't they just give up and go 
away?

   "Mariko no baka," she muttered, dipping her spoon into the 
rich, deep brown confection.

   "Is that any way to speak about someone?"

   A mouthful of fudge ripple went shooting across the table as 
Akane whirled, only to see the Hibiki girl sliding into the other 
end of the booth.

   "You!" she managed wittily, choking slightly on the ice cream 
that hadn't been expelled.

   Sitting, Mariko stared at her with a grim expression. "Tendo 
Akane, you know I'm here in this kissaten for a reason. And 
that I'm not going to leave until I get what I came for. And that 
someone's going to _pay_."

   Akane tensed, trying to figure out what form the attack 
would take, if Mariko would resort to her umbrella, what the 
best route of escape was. "Okay. What exactly do you want?"

   The Hibiki fixed her with a steely gaze. "Neither of us are 
going to leave this cafe alive until..."

   Akane tensed.

   "...I get my coffee. You want me to pay, or are we going 
dutch... hey, Akane, are you choking?"

    She finished coughing and glared at Mariko. "You did that on 
purpose."

    A smirk. "Yup. So, how's things?"

   Shaking her head in disbelief, Akane glared at her unwanted 
dining companion. "You tried to kill me about a week ago, and 
now you just plop down next to me and expect us to start 
chatting like old school friends?"

   Mariko shrugged. "I also rescued you a few days ago. 
Considering what happened to the building afterwards, I'd say I 
saved your life. So we're even on that score."

   "Okay," Akane grudgingly admitted. "But you're still trying to 
kill my best friend, you know."

   "Don't you mean 'boyfriend'?"

   "No!"

   Mariko raised her hands placatingly. "No need to shout. It's 
nothing to be ashamed of, you know; he's a very handsome 
psychopath."

   With difficulty, she fought down the urge to hurt someone. 
"Ranma is not a psychopath. He's not the one doing around 
shooting a people, kidnapping people, trying to kill people..."

   Chuckling sadly, Mariko shook her head. "Yeah. Never his 
fault, and people are always picking on him, although he's too 
nice and self-reliant to complain about it, and why the hell 
can't they just leave him alone.... this sounding familiar at all 
yet?"

   Akane blinked. "Yes. It's what I've been trying to tell you 
people."

   A humorless grin. "Yeah, it used to be my line. I had a real 
crush on him, used to be. I'd follow him around with puppydog 
eyes whenever he came over to see Ryouga, dream stupid 
romantic dreams about him... This was before I watched him 
murder my brother, you understand. That kinda made it real 
clear how nice and blameless he was."

   "I... I heard about that fight. It was an accident." Well, she 
silently amended, more of a loss of control than an accident. 
And why had he lost control? a small voice nagged.

   "Accident, hell. Let me paint you a picture. My brother on the 
ground unconscious, Ranma with a real funny look in his eyes, 
then drawing his foot back, then aiming a blow directly at the 
bottom of the chin..." Her hand tightened on the edge of the 
table, and there was a snapping noise as the formica cracked 
under the sudden pressure. "It wasn't an accident. It didn't even 
happen in combat. It was one man executing a downed 
opponent."

   Akane shook her head numbly. "Mariko, he lost control. He 
snapped..."

   "You don't snap, Akane," Mariko quietly said. "Not when you're 
one of us. I have a really nasty temper sometimes, and I can 
get a bit single minded, but I'd never do that to a friend who 
was just sparring with me. Never."

   "And the thing with the umbrella Ryouga did?" She saw 
Mariko wince. "What about that?"

   "That was real dumb of him. Before... before I saw how the 
fight ended, I was ready to beat the crap out of him for it. But 
it wouldn't have killed him."

   "That thing's like a buzz saw, Mariko. It could have cut him in 
half."

   "It's also heavy and slow moving," Mariko counterd. "Ranma 
could never have been directly hit by it. I still don't understand 
how it grazed him. It was probably intended for a diversion..."

   "He's still got a scar from that diversion."

   "Big deal. He's alive. I'd say he got away pretty easily. For 
now."

   Akane gave her a level stare. "Mariko, please don't do this. 
What good is killing him going to do?"

   Her gaze was met, and she inwardly shrank from the hard, 
fanatical light in the other girl's eyes. "What good? He'll never 
hurt anyone again, and he'll _pay_. There's a price for 
everything, and he ran out on the bill." 

   The waitress set a cup of coffee down on their table as the 
two stared at each other for a minute.

   Finally, the Hibiki girl's expression softened. "Look, I'm sorry 
about almost shooting you. I saw a chance to end it all, and I 
lost it a bit. But what would you do if someone killed Nabiki, 
right in front of you?"

   Akane thought for a few minutes, desire to prove the other 
girl wrong conflicting with honesty to herself. The thought to 
one of her friends murdering her sister seemed farfetched, 
unreal... and yet, she could help but shudder slightly.

   What would she do? Nabiki was her sister, who she didn't 
much care for at times but whom she loved fiercely...

   "I think it would depend on the circumstances," she said 
finally. "I think killing wouldn't be my first choice."

   "You never really know until it happens."

   "I guess not. You never do know." Akane glared sharply at 
Mariko. "And if you had shot me like you intended, would you 
have Nabiki hunt you down and kill you? For 'losing it' due to 
the desire to murder someone?"

   The other girl stared at her coffee. "That's different," she 
said, almost too softly for Akane to hear.

   Akane shook her head. "I don't think so. Not by very much."

   "He's a sadistic monster, Akane..."

   "Not that I've seen," she snapped. "I've known him for over a 
month, and all I've seen is someone with a world of guilt and 
worry slowly eating away at his soul.And you two aren't 
helping things at all."

   Mariko smiled slightly, and then laughed. Akane eyed her 
suspiciously. "What?"

   The other girl shook her head. "Just wishing the same thing I 
wish about my brother and me. That we could have a 
conversation that _doesn't_ involve Ranma."

   In spite of herself, Akane smiled back. "I know what you 
mean. Okay, let's talk about.... um... boys."

   "Other than the one who we won't be discussing anymore."

   "Right." Except, Akane realized glumly, the only boy she did 
think about these days was Ranma. Not that she thought about 
him like _that_... much...

   "Okay then," the Hibiki girl said with a smirk. "I've got some 
guy wrapped around my little finger. Only met me once, and 
he's bringing me flowers and reading poetry at me."

   Akane blinked. "Wow. I wish I could have guys do that... well, 
Kuno does, but he doesn't count."

   Mariko frowned. "Waitasec. Kuno Tatewaki? Dresses like a 
refugee from an Akira Kurosawa film? Pervert? Talks funny?"

   "Yes, that's him."

   Wincing, Mariko grinned sheepishly. "Drat. Well, that's who I 
was talking about. For the sake of my vanity, please tell me he 
doesn't do this to every woman he sees?"

   She shook her head, puzzled. "No, just to me. For the past 
four years. That's really weird."

   Rubbing her chin, the other girl frowned. "Yeah, especially 
considering how I met him. I was working out, he grabbed me... 
come to think of it, yeah, he thought I was you... so I hit him 
until he fell down."

   Akane giggled. "That's what I do just about every time he 
tries to..."

   They both stared at each other.

   Mariko spoke first. "You don't suppose...."

   "....that getting beat up is a _turn-on_ for him?" Akane 
finished, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh. I hate to admit it, but that 
makes a whole lot of sense..."

   "Great," Mariko muttered. "If I hit him, it'll just make him 
happy. Maybe if I just tie him up?"

   "With our luck, he's probably into bondage too."

   "Yeah." Sighing, Mariko adopted a wistful expression. "Pity, 
really. He's got a great butt. Now if only he were normal and 
sentient."

   Akane smirked. "Yeah. Anyone else you have your eye on?"

   "Well, Tsen's really cute too. Awfully shy, though."

    Her eyes bulged. "TSEN? You mean the guy who hit me on the 
back of the head, kidnapped me, and tied me to a chair half-
naked? That Tsen? SHY?"

   "Yup. Freaked out when I kissed him."

   "You KISSED him?"

   "Yeah. He was acting all nervous, and I thought it might help. 
Some guys just lose it around women, you know?"

   Akane shook her head in disbelief. "What were you doing 
talking to him, anyway?" All sorts of unpleasant suspicions 
were surfacing regarding why.

   "Met him in the park," Mariko said, shrugging. "Figured I'd 
rather not fight him. He's actually nice enough when he isn't 
abducting people."

   "Whatever. Just keep him away from me." Akane paused. 
"Although Shampoo was okay, helping me like that."

   "She helped you?"

   Akane rolled her eyes. If Mariko wanted to play, fine. "Yeah. 
She did."

   "Huh. Well, they're gunning for Ranma, which makes them 
okay in..." The other girl trailed off. "Sorry. We aren't talking about him."

   Akane smiled ruefully. "I think it's hard for us not to."

   "Yeah." Mariko laughed, the sound a little sad. "I wish it 
weren't like that, y'know?"

   "It doesn't have to be," Akane said quietly.

   Mariko swirled the last of her coffee for a few minutes, 
staring at the patterns in the formica table. Then she drank the 
last swallows, put some money on the table, and stood.

   "It is like that," she said shortly, and left.

   Akane sat for a while, quietly eating the last of her ice 
cream.

^_- 
   
   It might work.

   It had been harder than she thought to fool him as to the 
nature of her intentions. But she had pulled it off. She hoped. 
She didn't _think_ he had followed her, but the sneaky bastard 
could be subtle at times. Like father, like son.

   It might work.

   If all went according to plan, her good friend Ranma would show up for a final, terminal meeting.
The thought stirred a sort of grim pleasure in her.

   It might work.

   If it didn't, she might be in a great deal of trouble. Actually, 
forget the might. She would almost certainly be in a great deal 
of trouble.

   But still, still...

   It might work....

^_-

   Kasumi hummed idly as she stepped back inside the house, 
the day's mail in one hand. Such a great deal of it today...

   Sitting down on the living room sofa, she examined the day's 
catch. Bills, mostly, bills and advertisements.

   A small sample bottle of herbal shampoo, which was tucked 
into a pocket of her apron. A reminder that Nabiki's dentist 
appointment was in five weeks.

   Two magazines. A parchment challenge to Ranma. A catalog.

   "Ranma!" she called.

   After a few minutes, her guest padded into the room, an 
alert glint in his eyes. "Yeah, Kasumi?"

   She smiled. "Something came for you in the mail, Ranma-
kun." It was always nice to get mail.

   Taking the parchment, Ranma studied it for a few seconds. A 
slight frown slowly began to appear.

  "Kasumi? Where's the Ooni Temple?"

   Oh. Hmm. Pursing her lips, she racked her brain for the 
information. The name sounded awfully familiar, but she 
couldn't quite....

   She smiled. Oh yes, now she remembered. That was where 
that little girl had died a few years back.

   "It's on Tomiyasu Street, Ranma. Past the post office."

   "Thanks," he replied absently. Crumpling the letter, he tossed 
it across the room to land noiselessly in the wastebasket. 
"Well. I suppose I'd better get going, then. I should be back for 
a late lunch. Chicken, right?"

   Kasumi nodded happily. "With dill sauce."

   "Wonderful. Bye, Kasumi."

   As he left, Kasumi leafed through her new cooking magazine. 
You found the most interesting recipes in these things.

^_-

   Tsen walked slowly into the park, trepidation filling him 
despite his resolve. As much as the girl had rattled him, she 
had made a good point. Three against one was better odds by 
far than what he could accomplish on his own. Which, judging 
by his last attempt to kill Ranma, was very little. 

   So here he was, poking around a near-empty park at a 
disgustingly early hour. Tsen enjoyed sleeping late. Mornings 
made him cranky.

   After an hour of wandering aimlessly, he sat down on a bench 
by the lake to rest. The idiot girl hadn't told him _where_ in 
the park she and her brother would meet him, and the place 
was huge.

   How typically Japanese, he thought darkly, staring at the 
ducks floating lazily by. He was really getting sick of the 
whole damn island.

   Well. He was just going to sit here, feed the ducks, and relax. 
They said to come to the park? Well, here he was at the park. 
The rest was their problem. Yeah.

   After fifteen minutes, he began to wonder if it really wasn't 
his problem. After all, they weren't the ones stuck on a bench 
watching a bunch of crappy ducks do crappily ducklike things.

   "Hey."

   Turning, he saw the girl from yesterday walking towards 
him. He inwardly cringed, then forced his face to adopt a 
neutral expression. "Is Mariko, yes?"

   The girl nodded. She seemed somewhat less cheerful than she 
had the other day, which relieved him somewhat. Hopefully 
that meant she would be less... affectionate. "Yeah. If you'll 
stay there, I'll go get my brother. And then we can make our 
arrangements."

   Tsen nodded. As she walked off, a thought struck him. "Can 
you bring kettle? Hot water?" 

   Looking mildly surprised Mariko nodded. "Sure. I'll bring the 
pot from camp. Going to make tea?"

   "Something like, yes." No, stupid girl, going to dissuade you 
if you try fondling me again. Bimbo.

   Half an hour later Mariko returned, brother in tow. A 
handsome specimen, his mind noted clinically. His body didn't 
react at all, which he found both relieving and disturbing. 
Normally, an attractive male would stir something in him, an 
awareness of his presence. On the other hand.... he _was_ in a 
different body at the moment, and he certainly didn't need the 
distraction.

   Mariko set the steaming kettle down by the bench and 
gestured absently at the two. "Koji, Tsen. Tsen, Koji."

   The other Hibiki nodded, somewhat stiffly. "Pleased to meet 
you."

   "Pleased to meet you," Tsen responded automatically, noting 
the hostility that the other boy was unsuccessfully trying to 
conceal. Great. One of them was unfriendly, and the other was 
only too friendly by half. Just swell.

   Seeming to notice the tension, Mariko forcibly beamed at 
each of them. "Right. Well, shall we get to business?"

    Her brother nodded. "Sure. Tsen, what's your quarrel with 
Saotome?"

   Tsen fixed him with a stare. "Tsen kill Ranma. Is matter of 
big honor. Not go home until Ranma dead."

   Smiling slightly, Koji nodded. "Can he just wind up dead by 
some means? Or do you have to be the one to kill him?"

   He shrugged. "No. Ranma dead, Tsen go home. Is simple." 
Right, he thought to himself. Real simple.

   The smile slipped away from Koji's face. "Why'd you kidnap 
Akane? And blow up the building?"

   "Was way to bring Ranma to battle. Not blow up building. Not 
know why it blow up." It was something that had been 
bothering him slightly, actually. But not much. Who knew why 
machines did the things they did? City people were fools to 
surround themselves with such dangerous, unpredictable, 
uncontrollable things. 

   Koji frowned. "Kidnapping an innocent person, simply to get 
Saotome easily, lacks honor. Why should we join forces with 
you?"

   Oh, one of those types. Honor, honesty, fair play. Sometimes 
they were even sincere about it. "Is not bad honor. Akane-girl 
warrior, and Tsen not hurt her. Was legitimate tactic." And 
even if it wasn't, her duty to tribal law far outweighted silly 
concepts like a fair fight. A warrior is one who makes war, and 
part of all war is deception, misdirection, feints. And most of 
all, a warrior is one who fights to win.

   "She had no part in your quarrel, whatever it was."

   Sensing the possible breakdown of relations Mariko swiftly 
slipped onto the bench to Tsen. "C'mon, brother mine, lighten 
up. I mean, I almost shot Akane, right?"

   Flinching, Tsen moved away. Undaunted, she followed.

   "You're a girl, same as Akane," Koji muttered. "And that was 
in battle. A real man doesn't go around kidnapping women."

   His sister snorted. "What a load of crap.  Equal rights work 
both ways. Just because Akane's female doesn't give her some 
sort of protected status." She suddenly glomped on to Tsen, 
giving him a light peck on the cheek. "Anyway, _I_ think he's a 
real man."

   Koji made a strangled noise.

   Tsen turned a bright shade of purple, and with one arm 
frantically reached for the kettle, the other one being pressed 
against his body by the overly affectionate Hibiki. "Am not real 
man!"

   Mariko smiled wickedly at him. "Oh, I think you are." Winking, 
she suddenly leaned in to kiss him full on the lips.

   Panicked, Tsen emptied the kettle over his head, soaking 
both of them.

   Mariko froze.

   Then she very slowly looked down.

   Then she opened Tsen's shirt.

   "Hey," she commented. "Hey. You grew tits."

   Then she fainted.

^_-

   Akane flopped onto the sofa, reached for the remote, and idly 
flipped the channel to her favorite cooking show. It improved 
her mood somewhat.

   She thought that she might have gotten through to Mariko a 
bit. At least given her something to think about, planted a tiny 
seed of doubt in her mind. She really didn't want to fight the 
other girl, she realized. Not that way. Despite everything, she 
_liked_ Mariko.  Just not enough to let her kill Ranma.

   And Mariko seemed to like her well enough, too. Just not 
enough to let Ranma live.

   It is like that.

   But she didn't have to like it, not one bit.

   On the TV screen, Chef Eitteine told her how to make a 
vanilla souffle that would delight her family and friends.

   Ranma didn't seem to be home, which was probably just as 
well. She wanted a little time to digest everything Mariko had 
told her before facig him. And decide how much of it was 
true.

   After all, Akane reasoned, Mariko had lied to her before. Just 
because she said something didn't make it true. Ranma, on the 
other hand, had been honest with her during the rare times he 
would open up. At least, as far as she knew.

   Okay. The Hibiki girl had gotten the sentiments about leaving 
Ranma alone far too accurately for it to have been a total 
fabrication. So she probably had been attracted to him, and 
those feeling had probably turned to hatred upon the death of 
her brother. The accidental death.

   Who had planted doubt in who?

   Akane shifted position uncomfortably, eyes watching Chef 
Eitteine slowly cook the souffle. Ranma had told her himself. 
He had snapped. He had thought he was dying, and he snapped. It 
was fear and pain and the ugly shadow in the back of his mind...

   She realized suddenly that whatever was haunting Ranma, 
Ryouga's death was only a part of it. A rung on the ladder. He 
had snapped, and that had killed Ryouga, but there had to be a 
deeper reason behind _why_ he had suddenly lost control. One 
that he hadn't told her yet.

   The doorbell rang, and Akane frowned in annoyance as she 
clicked off the TV and stood. One of Nabiki's friends - business 
associates; Nabiki had no friends - maybe, or perhaps one of 
the neighbors. Ranma, she mused, walking to answer it, would 
have just come right in. It was his house as well, now.

   Akane opened the front door and blinked.

   "Hi," the boy standing on the porch said. "I'm Kuonji Ukyou. Is 
Ranma in?"

   Another blink. "Um. Is that a giant spatula on your back?"

   Ukyou nodded cheerfully. "I'm an okonomiyaki cook. Is 
Ranma..."

   She recovered from her initial surprise, and eyed the edges 
of the giant kitchen implement with trepidation. They 
certainly looked sharp, and so did the smaller ones in that 
bandoleer the boy was wearing over his school uniform... 

   Akane suddenly got the feeling that none of them were 
intended to cook things with.

   "Sorry," she said, keeping her gaze neutral. "I don't think 
Ranma's here right now."

   The boy nodded, his expression still pleasant. "Okay. Do you 
know when he'll get back? I'm an old friend of his."

   Great, Akane thought, another old buddy of Ranma's. One 
festooned with bladed weapons. Joy.

   "Might I ask the reason for your visit, Kuonji-san?" she 
asked, keeping her voice cool but polite. It was entirely 
possible that he wasn't here to kill Ranma. But, given the 
motives of the recent stream of visitors, she doubted it.

   The pleasant expression cooled slightly. "I'm here to talk to 
him. Catch up on old times." He paused, examining her with a 
unnervingly sharp gaze. "I know Ranma doesn't have a sister... 
are you one of the Tendo family?"

   "Tendo Akane. Ranma's fiancee." What? Why had she told him 
that? After all, it wasn't settled yet, and it was up to him and 
her, and even if it was certain why was she telling that to a 
perfect stranger...

   "Ah. Yeah, Genma told me that he was..." Ukyou stopped, and 
fidgeted slightly. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

   Akane scrutinized him for a few seconds, trying to read him, 
trying to sense ill intent. She couldn't find any. Not that that 
meant anything. For a brief second, she wished Nabiki were 
with her.

   But then, Nabiki was wrong about Ranma, right?

   Finally, she nodded. "Please come in, Kuonji-san." Presumably 
Ukyou wouldn't attack her in her own home. And Daddy was just 
upstairs, and she _could_ take care of herself...

   Ukyou gave her a awkward smile and stepped inside. Leading 
her guest to the living room, Akane sat him down in the most 
exposed chair in the room, taking the seat near the katana on 
the wall for herself. "Can I get you anything, Kuonji-san?"

   He shook his head. "Ukyou, please. If you're Ranchan's fiancee, 
well..."

   Akane blushed slightly. "It hasn't been completely decided 
yet. It might not happen. Right now, we're just very good 
friends." Yes, part of her said sourly, just good friends. 
"'Ranchan'?"

   A embarrassed smile. "Yeah. We knew each other when we 
were little kids. He was 'Ranchan', and I was 'Ucchan'." Slowly, 
the smile faded. "Then his scummy father dragged him off to 
the next part of the torture routine he called training."

   "What was Ranma like back then?" Akane asked, curiosity 
bubbling within her. If this boy had known Ranma back then, 
maybe he also knew exactly what was hanging over his head...

   Ukyou shrugged. "He was really happy and energetic. He was 
usually smiling, he had an arrogant streak as big as Japan, and 
he was the nicest person I've ever known. He was open and 
caring and a lot of fun. And Genma tells me he's not like that 
anymore."

   Akane slowly shook her head, feeling oddly sad. "He's still 
caring. And nice. And the arrogance shows, sometimes. But he's 
not open, and he's not often happy, and he doesn't..." She 
pictured his expression in her mind's eye, and sighed. "He still 
smiles, but I don't think it's the same kind of smile you 
remember."

   The okonomiyaki chef winced. "That's about what his father 
told me. I was hoping he was wrong. Guess not."

   "Did Genma send you?"

   Ukyou made a face. "That lazy bastard? No. Saotome Genma 
cares about what's good for Saotome Genma, and that's it. He 
didn't even know I was in the area until I showed up to 
challenge him."

   The foreboding that Ukyou's pleasant words and demeanor 
had pushed away began to rise again. "Challenge?"

   "Genma did my family a great wrong a long time ago. I took 
our revenge."

   A sick feeling washed over her. "You... you didn't kill...?"

   Ukyou blinked in surprise. "Kill? No, of course not! I mean, 
I'm not a psycho or anything. I just beat the living daylights 
out of him. No lasting injuries, just painful ones."

   She nodded, relieved. "Sorry. We've just had a lot of people 
showing up for revenge lately, and they want it in blood."

   Frowning, the cook leaned forward in his chair. "On Genma?"

   "No. On Ranma. There's a Chinese lunatic after him for eating 
some sacred feast... his father's fault..."

   "As usual," Ukyou muttered.

   "...and the Hibiki's." Akane winced. How much could she tell 
this boy? Ranma was an intensely private person, and the few 
times he had opened up to her had been just that... an opening, a 
near-total relaxing of his defenses. She wanted to help him, 
but the things he had trusted her with were his, to be shared 
with others at his decision. Not hers. "They have some 
justification. I can't tell you any more than that. It's 
something for Ranma to tell you himself."

   The boy frowned. "I want to help him, Akane-san."

   "Just Akane." She studied him again, and found herself 
nodding. He really did seem sincere about his friendship, 
although...

   Although she felt oddly threatened by him. Not physically; 
despite the bizarre polearm Ukyou carried, Akane felt fairly 
certain that he wouldn't hurt her. But on a deeper, more 
profound level, part of her feared him.

   "I really believe that you want to, Ukyou," she carefully said. 
"But the key to making Ranma comfortable with you is to not 
make any sudden moves. Physical _or_ verbal. I think part of 
him hates himself, and he has a hard time believing that other 
people can... can know who he is and not hate him as well. Let 
him be the one to tell you about things, when he's ready." Her 
voice began to shake slightly; almost, she hoped, unnoticably. 
"I think it's good that you've come. He needs people who aren't 
his enemies."

   The boy looked at her kindly. "You care about him a great 
deal, don't you?"

   Slowly, she nodded.

   "Do you love him?"

   "Well... I... I mean..," Akane stammered. Did she? He was her 
friend, and she was sure he just saw her as a friend. Right? 
For God's sake, he had sat next to her in the tub, naked, and 
hadn't... well... he had looked at her, but not in that way. Surely 
not in _that_ way.

   Her voice trailed off, and she flushed a deep red. Ukyou 
looked amused, which only served to heighten the blush. 

   "Sort of," she finished, well aware of how silly that sounded. 
You don't 'sort of' love someone, you do or you don't. 

   So did she love Ranma? she asked herself yet again. Sort of, 
replied self.

   Grinning broadly, Ukyou winked at her. "And does he 'sort of' 
love you back?"

   Akane sighed, and looked down. "I wish I knew, Ukyou-san. He 
fought for me, not long back, but... I think he would have done 
that for a friend, too. And I am his friend, before anything 
else."

   Ukyou shook his head. "You can be a friend, I think, or a lover. 
Not both."

   She laughed. "Well, I'm certainly not his lover." No, she 
sliently added, we just bathe in the nude together.

   Chuckling, Ukyou glanced at the Bavarian clock mounted 
across from him, a relic of Soun's father. "Hm. Is he out 
shopping?"

   Akane frowned, suddenly wondering exactly why Ranma 
wasn't home. "I'm not sure, actually." The frown grew deeper. 
Ranma didn't really have any other friends, and she couldn't 
picture him actually buying something for himself - he seemed 
to have no use for any possessions beyond the spartan contents 
of his room and closet. If he had wanted something to eat, 
Kasumi would have happily fixed him a snack....

   "Kasumi!" she called, a unpleasant sensation starting to form 
in the pit of her stomach. "Do you know where Ranma is?"

   Her sister appeared from the kitchen. "Ranma? He got a 
letter of challenge. I think he went to answer it."

   "He WHAT?" screeched Ukyou and Akane in unison. Kasumi 
smiled and shrugged. 

   "Oneechan, why on earth didn't you tell me?" Akane 
demanded, feeling her temper threaten to flare. Kasumi 
shrugged again.

   "Well, Ranma-kun is a martial artist. I imagine this sort of 
thing is quite common."

   Ukyou shot Akane an incredulous look. She winced, and made 
a helpless gesture. Kasumi, she thought wearily, oh Kasumi...

    "The letter's in the wastebasket, if that helps," Kasumi 
offered soothingly.

    Akane reached the basket in a heartbeat. The crumpled 
parchment stood out clearly against the white forms of tissue 
and notebook paper; pulling it out, she hastily unfolded it.

   // Saotome Ranma,

      It ends here. Meet me at the Ooni Temple as soon as you 
   read this note. Your blood shall water the weeds, and your 
   body be consigned to the earth. I await you. //

   The note was unsigned.

   No. Oh no.

   Was it the Hibikis, she numbly wondered? Tsen? Shampoo? 
God help them, was it someone new?

   "Akane?" Ukyou asked. "What does it say?"

   She handed the letter to him and ran to her father's desk, 
looking for the map of the neighborhood. She found it on top of 
the scattered papers and letters, a Chinese knife still piercing 
the location of the Ichishi Building.

   The Ooni Temple was in the older part of the ward, along the 
ridges and hills of the ancient temple districts. It had been 
closed for years, and blocked off because of the dangers...

   Ah. There.

  "Kasumi, did Ranma check the map for long?"

   Her sister smiled. "He didn't look at the map, Akane. I told 
him where it was. On Tomiyasu."

   She sighed in relief. Thank God. Running to the front door, she 
began to pull on her shoes.

   Ukyou joined her as she dashed down the steps. "He's got a 
head start on us, you know. The fight'll probably be over before 
we get there."

   She glanced at him, never slowing her sprint. "We?"

   He nodded. "We."

   Akane smiled. It felt good to know someone else was on their 
side. "Ranma will be taking the long way to the Temple, along 
the streets. We're going to climb up the cliff trail, which 
should cut at least half an hour off his lead."

   Ukyou nodded, and they sped through the streets of Nerima. 

^_-

   He walked cat silent through the grounds of the temple 
compound.

   The gates had been boarded, but he had scaled them with 
ease. Built atop a precipice, the fortified house of the Ooni 
Kami was surrounded on three sides by a steep hillside. All the 
better to prevent a combatant from fleeing the fight.

   The courtyard beyond the walls was an overgrown lawn, a 
gravel path leading from the main gates to the temple proper. 
A pause for bearings, and then he strode along the path, finally 
pushing open the double doors of the main building.

   It was dark inside. The eaves overhanging the door let little 
of the noonday sun in, and the untended trees which littered 
the compound filtered even that light, the leaves turning it a 
sickly emerald green as it slid through the branches.

   But it was light enough for him to make out a figure sitting 
in the low chair at the far end of the room.

   "Who are you, dead man?"

    For a second, nothing. Then a low chuckle came from the 
shadowed figure, slowly rising in volume and intensity. "I'm 
the one who will see you die." The voice was a rasp, a sound of 
sandpaper rubbed against rough stone.

   Ranma strode forward, stance ready. "We'll see."

   "Yes. We shall."

   Ranma abruptly froze, as if suddenly becoming aware of 
something.

   Then the floor collapsed in a shower of splintering, 
shattering wood, sending figure, chair, and Ranma tumbling downward.

   He fell, body desperately twisting in midair, and slammed 
against the stone wall of the shaft the floor had covered. His 
hands scrabbled, slipped, clawed... 

   His left hand found purchase on an irregularity in the stone. 
A jerk as gravity tried to rip him downward to whatever lay 
below, a searing pain in his shoulder.

   And then he hung there, motionless, in the black.

   He craned his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of his 
opponent, and saw the shadowed figure swinging, a rope tied 
round it's neck securing it to a upper rafter. A figure, he saw, 
of straw and wood under old clothes and cloth.

   With a photo of his face stapled to the head, smiling.

   Below, the pale green light vanished into the blackness of 
the pit. He could not see the bottom.

    Across the compound, from her seat in the old watchtower, 
Tendo Nabiki folded up the microphone, smiled, and waited for 
him to lose his grip.

^_-

   Mariko groaned, and opened her eyes.

   Let's see... Koji looking down at her worriedly, Shan Pu 
eyeing her distastefully... wearing Tsen's clothes... 
waitaminute, Tsen had grown... hold on...

   "Huh?" she asked intelligently.

   Koji winced. "Er, Marichan? It, uh, seems that Tsen is Shan 
Pu."

   She stood up, and aimed a glare at the two. "Not possible. 
Tsen had a... um... I mean, though his pants... er." She felt her 
cheeks begin to flame. This was probably very embarrassing 
for someone, and she suspected the someone was her.

   Without a word, Shan scooped up a handful of lake water and 
splashed herself.

   Mariko watched in disbelief as the bust vanished and the 
form expanded. Picking up the kettle, Tsen resumed female 
form with a splash of water. Impossible. It had to be a trick... 
yeah... right...

   "What the hell are you, some sorta magical pervert?" she 
finally managed. "And are you a he, or a she?"

   Shan gave her an icy glare. "Am _she_. And Shan not the 
pervert. You grope me, not other way around."

    She felt her face redden yet again, and her stomach began to 
roil. She had kissed a woman! Full on the lips!

   "You didn't exactly look like a girl at the time!" she snapped 
back. "And you didn't have to enjoy it!"

   "Enjoy it?" screeched the Chinese girl. "ENJOY?"

   "Uh, ladies..." her brother tried to nervously interject. She 
ignored him.

   "Oh, was that a banana you had in your trousers, then? Wait, 
couldn't be. They don't expand, do they?"

   With considerable satisfaction, she watched the other girl 
turn a vivid shade of purple-red. "That... that... automatic! Is 
body, not me! Have mind of own!" 

   "Yeah, that's what men always say. Pervert."

   Shan choked out something incoherent in Chinese.

    "WILL YOU TWO QUIT IT!"

   Startled, she watched as her brother slammed his umbrella 
into the bench, snapping the carved stone neatly in half. He 
seems upset, she absently noted.

   Fuming, Koji gave them each an angry stare. "I rather 
stupidly thought we could talk about killing Saotome, but if 
you two want to ill each other instead, that's fine too."

   Really upset, she amended.

   "Okay, point made, brother mine." She glared at the other girl. 
"Sorry I kissed you. Believe me, it'll never happen again." Damn 
straight, she thought, repressing a shudder of disgust.

   "Shan Pu so very glad to hear," the amazon hissed sweetly. 
They exchanged the eyesight equivalent of full nuclear strikes, 
and smiled politely at each other.

   "Good," her brother muttered. "Now. How about killing 
Saotome?"

   "Is good. How we do?"

   Koji smiled. "I think the simple way should suffice. He'll be 
going to school tomorrow. We wait along his route and take 
him down."

   "Ranma no so easy to 'take down'," Shan pointed out, her good 
eye crinkling. "He better than Shan. Think he better than you. 
Know he better than pervert girl."

   She bit down an angry retort. "Pervert girl reluctantly 
concurs with sex changing freak, brother. Ranma's too good. As 
long as he only has to face one or two of us..."

   Shan Pu's venomous look was not lost on her. She inwardly 
smiled.

   "He won't only be fighting one of us," Koji pointed out. "He'll 
have to deal with all three of us. He's good, but not that good."

   "Except Akane's going to be walking to school with him," she 
said, a certain bitterness tinging her voice. Stupid Akane. Poor,  
doomed, stupid Akane. "That makes two against three."

   "Akane-girl not that good," Shan mused. "Could disable 
easily, in opening attack..."

   Mariko felt a wave of fury rise up; with difficulty, she 
suppressed it. "Stay away from Akane," she said coldly, one 
hand tightening around the haft of her umbrella. "She's off 
limits, at least as long as you're working with us. Certain 
arrangements have been made." A thought struck her. "Hey, 
Koji, that's it. We just use that certain arrangement to make 
sure Akane stays home tomorrow." 

   Her brother caught on immediately, shooting her a shark's 
grin. "Good thinking, Marichan. 'Azusa' should be able to keep 
her safely out of the way. And that makes it three on one." The 
grin faded. "At least it'll be open combat."

   "And if Akane come anyway?" Shan Pu asked. Mariko 
shrugged. "We call off the attack and wait for another day. We 
have time." And he doesn't, she thought viciously. He's just 
about out of time. She would see to that, for her dead brother's 
memory. And for Akane's sake, as well.

   "Are we agreed, then?"

   "Is deal."

   Above and beyond the park, temple bells tolled the hour.

^_-

   Like insects on a boulder, two people ascended the left face 
of the Ooniyama, speed as fast as safely possible. And faster.

   "What is this place?" Ukyou puffed, his combat spatula 
slapping against his back with each stride. "A temple?"

   "It was. Then there was an earthquake, and the hill, the 
Ooniyama, became unstable. Crevices opened in a few places, 
some of the buildings were partially swallowed up...  The place 
is dangerous, especially since it was abandoned. Some of the 
chasms have a thin layer of soil over them." Akane shuddered, 
remembering the news report of the little girl who had fallen 
to her death several years ago. "Parents like to call it the Oni 
Temple, and tell their kids that demons live in it, to keep them 
from playing here. I used to have to walk to school past it 
after I got off the bus, and it always frightened me. Nabiki 
used to tease me about it..."

   "Wonderful place for a fight," Ukyou remarked dryly.

   Akane just kept running.

   Finally, they crested the steep trail, the looming hillside 
replaced by a crumbling wall. A small gate, set in the side, 
stood ajar.

   Akane quietly began to swear.

   "What's wrong, Akane?"

   She turned to look at Ukyou. "That gate. It's _always_ 
supposed to be locked, to keep little kids out. Which means it's 
only been unlocked recently, and probably by the person who 
challenged Ranma. And if they knew about the cliff entrance, 
they have to know how unstable this place is. But they picked 
it anyway."

   Ukyou nodded, his face swiftly growing worried. "These, uh 
chasms... the covered ones..."

   "All of them are marked by a stake with a red plastic ribbon, 
and there's a big one directly under the main building."

   He nodded, and unshipped his combat spatula from it's place 
on his back.

   Slowly, carefully, they walked through the decrepit stone 
arch of the temple, senses straining.

    They emerged into the grassy courtyard, and Akane's heart 
nearly stopped.

   "God. Oh God..."

   Ukyou scanned the yard, tensing. "What? I don't see 
anything..."

   "That's what's wrong. The stakes are gone."

   They stared in horror at the deceptively innocent looking 
grass.

   Ukyou spoke first. "I don't see any holes... I mean, if there's 
no holes, he can't have..."

   A low moan came from the temple building.

   Akane had to use all of her willpower to keep from dashing 
across the field. "That's him. I think that's him, Ukyou..."

   The okonomiyaki chef studied the field carefully. "Akane, 
how big were these stakes?"

   She racked her mind. "I don't know. Big."

   "So they'd leave a hole where they were pulled out, right? 
Like that one?"

   Akane looked intently to where Ukyou pointed. Some feet 
away, a dot of turf about the size of a large yen piece was 
marred by a rectangular hole.

   "Okay," she said, stepping forward slightly. "Give me one end 
of your spatula. If I fall through, pull me back."

   "Gotcha."

   Slowly, agonizingly slowly, they crossed the lawn, eyes 
fixed on the turf for the deceptively harmless-looking stake 
holes. And then they were at the steps.

   The first thing to greet Akane's eyes upon pushing open the 
doors was a hanged man.

   She stumbled back into Ukyou, stifling a shriek. Seconds 
later she realized it was only a dummy. Then her eyes fell upon 
the missing floor.

   "Ranma...?" she whispered, her voice echoing oddly in the 
hall.

   Ukyou just stared.

   "akane... help...."

   She quickly bent by the edge of the precipice, leaning 
forward, and there he was, hanging by one hand, a crazed look 
of fear mixed with stubbornness and determination... 

   "Ranma! Hang on!" she yelled, then turned to Ukyou. "Rope. We 
need rope."

    "I haven't got any. I could run back down to the city..."

   Akane swore, staring at the pit. "I don't think he can hold on 
that long."

   Then her eyes fell again on the hanging figure.

   "Ukyou, can that thing of yours cut that beam?"

   Grasping her meaning almost immediately, Ukyou lunged, the 
combat spatula easily cleaving the ancient wood. Down came 
the beam, landing crossways spanning the pit, the dummy 
landing about at Ranma's level.

   They watched, mesmerized, as Ranma saw the figure. 
Calculated the distance. And pushed himself off the wall into 
space.

   He hung in nothingness for an eternity of seconds, then his 
hands grasped the rope. The figure collapsed as he slammed 
against it, body and head falling in two parts to disappear into 
the black. There was no sound of landing.

   He climbed, and the beam creaked, and wood snapped 
ominously.

^_-

   Nabiki swore.

   Slowly at first, then more rapidly, she descended the 
watchtower stairs. By the time she reached the street, she 
was running as fast as her legs could take her.

   Not today, Nabiki-chan, jeered a mocking voice in her head. 
Not today. Nice try, though.

   It sounded an awful lot like Ranma.

^_-

   He pulled himself up, across the beam, and slowly eased 
himself onto the safety of the floor.

   And Ukyou stepped forward.

   "Hello, Ranchan."