DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko,
Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without
their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the
enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic
that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the
author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result
of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do
not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the
author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.

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

                       Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi

                       A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic
                            by Joseph Kohle
       		       
                       Part III: The Golden Apple
                  Chapter II Troubles and Tribulations


     The sensation was the same as he slammed into the water. The
shooting stab of icy pain ripping through him as his body
rearranged itself. His bones contracted and thinned, reforming as
curves filled out on his body. His skin became smoother as his
chest expanded, pressing at the slick fabric of his silk shirt.
He inwardly shuddered as he felt his manhood shrivel and
disappear within him as the female organs developed.
     It happened in an instant, but each change lasted an
eternity in which he suffered. It was an eternity in which the
horror of his curse etched itself firmly in his mind once again.
Rage and terror battled within him as he struggled upward towards
the light that filtered through the surface.
     He broke through the surface like a leaping fish. A shim-
mering spray of water filled the air around him as he sucked in a
mouthful of air. It was only a moment before gravity and the
water claimed him again. He crashed back into the pool, the water
closing over his head. A quick stroke brought him to the surface
where he slowly made his way to shore. 
     Someone was waiting for him on the pool's edge, but he could
only dimly recognize it as another human being until he was
lifted from the water by a man, who pulled him onto dry ground
and laid him gently on the ground.  
     Blinking his eyes clear of water, he saw a blurry shape
above him. The man watched him intently as gentle hands brushed
his brow. "Ah it is truly fortunate that I was here to save thee,
my Pigtailed Goddess. For who knows what perils might have
befallen thee in these treacherous times, but now thou art safe
in my arms, and never shall I let thee from mine sight, my
Beloved," the blur stated as it clarified into the image of
Kunou, "Let my love burn away thy fears like the sun banishes the
early morning mist and imparts its warmth to the budding of the
land." Kunou leaned forward and kissed him, his lips pressing
into his own.
     His mind blanked and he kicked away from Kunou, as his tiny
fist swung out and connected with the side of Kunou's head,
sending the lecher sprawling into the mist that suddenly appeared
around him. With a low cry he sprang to his feet and began to
run, scrubbing his lips with his hand, trying to remove the
gagging taste of Kunou from his mouth.
     Involved in his physical revulsion, he did not see her until
she called out. "Ranko, why are you running? That is not lady-
like."
     Startled by the voice of his mother, he stumbled to a halt
and turned to face her. She was kneeling at a low table, her
pristine blue and white kimono meticulously arranged about her.
Across the table lay the unsheathed katana that haunted his
dreams. The naked blade gleamed in the soft glow of the four
candles on the table.  
     "He-he he kissed me!" he nearly screamed.
     "Now Ranko, you are very pretty," Nodoka explained, "It is
only natural for a boy to kiss you."
     "I didn't want to be kissed! Especially by him, I hate him,
hate him!" he answered in a rage.
     "My poor child. Why don't you come sit with me, and tell
your dear aunt everything?" Nodoka motioned for him to take the
place across from her. Confused and in shock from the kiss and
Nodoka's presence, he took a few steps forward and kneeled beside
the table.   
     Around him the mist dissolved to reveal the Tendou's home.
They were sitting in the dinning area,  the shoji open to the
backyard, where the sun was playing on the rippling surface of
the koi pond. It was a peaceful scene, the only sounds were the
chirping of birds and the sweet melody that someone was singing
in the distance.
     His mother took out two tea cups and poured some hot water
into the herbal mixture. She let it steep for a moment and then
handed it to him with a small smile on her face. He accepted the
tea with a small nod of gratitude.
     "Now what is wrong?" his mother asked. "What was so wrong
with this boy?"
     He did not know how to answer, what had happened didn't seem
like it could have occurred. He had been in Jusenkyo with Kunou,
and now he was in Nerima. Needing an excuse to think, he lifted
the steaming tea and brought it to his lips.
     At that moment there was a squeal from the door, and a black
blur shot into the room, slamming into his arm, knocking the tea
cup from his grasp, spilling the hot water over his body.
     He screamed in pain as the water scorched his skin, and then
in horror as he felt the change take place. Out of the corner of
his eye, he saw the glee-filled grin on P-chan's face. Uncon-
sciously he began to move toward the pig, a red haze of rage
obscuring his sight, when he felt cold steel against his neck.
     "Ranma?" Nodoka asked in a sad voice, "What? Is that really
you?" 
     His mother's words broke the rage, allowed P-chan to escape,
and forced his eyes to her. He saw the disappointment, the
horror, and the sorrow in his mother's face. Deep down he knew he
had failed her. Bowing his head in defeat, he answered her
firmly, "H-hai, Okaasan." 
     "You know what this means?" He nodded and picked up the
bloodstained tanto that was lying in front of him. The warm blood
dripped onto his hands as he pressed the tip against his abdomen.
A shrill whistle filled the air as the katana descended toward
his neck. Then a scream filled his ears, but the icy steel never
sliced into his flesh, never parted the muscle and sinew..
     Tentatively, he opened his eyes to see his worst nightmare
spread before him. Akane was sprawled on the floor in front of
him, the tanto he had just used imbedded in her stomach. Her
wrists were sliced wide open, blood pooling on the carpet below
them in obscene puddles.
     "Akane!" he cried, reaching for her.
     Her eyes fluttered open and stared sightlessly at him. "You
killed me," she accused, "It's your fault. I told you not to go.
Now I'm alone. Your fault."
     "No!" he screamed and ran from the sight, blindly pushing
through the mist until it cleared and he was in the blasted
landscape of Boukyaku. "Why are you doing this?" The question was
ripped from his throat by his own terror.
     "He's done nothing. It's all your fault. Even I suffer
because of you." He turned to face Xian Lin. His sanity crumpled
like a collapsing building. She was nailed to a tree, her body a
mass of bloody cuts and bruised skin. Tears filled his eyes, and
spread down his cheeks as he shook his head and reached for her.
"Why did you leave me behind? Why Ranma? He's killing me." 
     "No," he whispered and turned around, unable to face the
hideous sight anymore. Ukyou was slicing her wrists as her eyes
pleaded with him for help and love.
     "No." The blood spilled from her arms to the thirsty ground. 
     He spun from the horror and was face to face with Akane. "I
hate you, Ranma." Her hand struck his face, stinging his cheek,
crushing his heart.
     "No." She walked away from him. Then Ryouga was by her side,
taking her in his arms and kissing her. A wail of grief ripped
from his throat as the world disappeared around him and darkness
surrounded him and filled his senses. There was nothing, and then
something.
     The first thing he became aware of was his head. It felt
like someone was beating on it with a large rock, maybe three of
them he decided after a rather intense burst of pain. He groaned
and opened his eyes, and then snapped them shut again an instant
later as the pain increased as he pushed the sheets from his
body. That's when he realized that he wasn't a he but a she. 
     Anyone else would have freaked, but being himself, he was
rather used to waking up with the opposite sex. Although he knew
that waking up as a female was generally a bad omen for the day
ahead. The red hot poker burning a hole behind his left eye was
not going to make the day go any better.
     With this in mind, he tentatively opened his eyes. A
darkened room was all that he saw. This normally would not have
bothered him, but he quickly realized it was not his room.
Actually it wasn't any room that he had ever slept in. "Maybe I'm
dreaming," he muttered. 
     That did not seem like a plausible answer, but he was unable
to come up with any other explanation. Besides the dream he had
been having had been this real, so he could be dreaming, but it
didn't feel the same. On top of this, his pounding head was not
making thinking any easier. In spite of all this, he had the
feeling he was missing something, something important that had
happened to him. 
     Shaking his head, he tried to clear it. This only caused the
room to spin around him. Groaning, he sank back to the pillows
and closed his eyes, willing the world to stand still. This was
starting to become weirder than the other dream he had had the
previous night.
     He had been in Toufu-sensei's clinic and Shampoo had been
clinging to him while Akane walked away, ignoring his cries.
Around him had been his family, watching him with sad expres-
sions. "Maybe I got drunk," he mussed out loud. It would
certainly explain the headache, but then he had never been much
for drinking, not since his father had left that bottle of sake
lying out when he was twelve.
     As he lay on the bed, a delicious aroma made it's way to his
nose and into his mouth. In response his stomach growled. For the
first time he realized that he was starving, and if he wasn't
mistaken, and he rarely ever was about food, that was okonomiyaki
cooking. He took another deep inhale. Deluxe style with Ucchan's
special sauce.
     "Well that explain's where I am," he deduced as he rolled
out of the bed. "Now just to figure out what is going on." When
he turned on his side, his arm hit a hard object, causing it to
roll off the bed to land with a clunk on the floor.
     Curious, he bent down and picked up the object in his hand
and held it up to the light spilling in from the window. A
thousand memories flooded into him as he saw what he held in his
hand. Every thing that had happened rushed through his mind. The
fight with Cologne played itself out. He saw the black void he
had been trapped in, his desperate fight to find himself. Then
there was Boukyaku's world, meeting Xian Lin, fighting Boukyaku
in the end. He had been about to give up his life to save Akane,
and then Xian Lin. "No! Xian Lin," he whispered in horror. She
was still in there.
     He focused his attention on the statue. It was hard to see,
very faint, but it was there. A soft white aura glowed around the
statue. There was only a small black smudge on the aura. Relief
flooded through him. She was okay. There was no way Boukyaku
could create a white aura. 
     Sinking back to the bed, he placed the statue on the small
table beside the bed. "Why'd you sacrifice yourself for me, Xian
Lin? It's not like I deserved it. Dammit baka! That was stupid,
you could've been destroyed." But I wasn't. He could easily
imagine her rebuking him like that.
     "You've put me in a pickle, Xian Lin. How am I s'posed to
get you outta there? I don't know anything about these things."
Shaking his head, he rested his chin on his palm. There was no
way he was going to figure this thing out at the moment. His head
was still pounding, his stomach was growling, and he was a girl
at the moment.  
     Two of the three he could deal with, the other he just hoped
would go away soon. Standing up, he absently snagged the statue
and took a step. His leg decided that it was not ready for that
kind of punishment and promptly gave out. Crying out in surprise,
he planted his hand on the side of the bed to support his body as
it slumped downward. The arm had other ideas though. A moment
later he found himself sprawled on the ground, the rough carpet
irritating his nose.
     Mumbling several choice oaths, he pulled himself into a
sitting position and carefully stretched out each arm and leg
individually. He quickly realized the problem. There was no way
for him to tell exactly how long he had been unconscious, but
Xian Lin had said something about fourteen days. So he decided
he'd been on his back, unmoving for fourteen days, which would
explain why his muscles were acting up.
     It took longer, especially for someone of Ranma's condi-
tioning, to lose muscle mass, but neglecting muscles over even a
short period of time would make it difficult to jump right back
in, especially if they had been limp most of the time.  
     For thirty minutes he concentrated on stretching and working
the kinks out. It was easier than he thought, but still did
nothing to alleviate his problems. The increased flow of blood if
anything compounded his headache, and the extra work just made
him hungrier.
     Eventually he threw his hands up in disgust. There was only
so much he could accomplish with stretching. He would have to
take his chances and try using the muscles. After using the bed
to pull himself to his feet, he took a few unsteady steps as his
muscles got used to the motion again, but soon he was walking
steadily, albeit a little slowly, out the room and down the hall.
     Pausing outside of the bathroom, he decided that changing
back into a guy could wait, he was starving and hundreds of unan-
swered questions were running through his mind, demanding an
answer. The bathroom was left behind and he made his way careful-
ly down the stairway to the main dining area.
     At the bottom, he was greeted with empty chairs and tables.
Ukyou wasn't behind the counter cooking, and the place appeared
to have just been closed for the night. He decided to check the
kitchen. It was the only other place Ukyou might be that was
still in the restaurant.    
     "Ucchan?" he called, "Are you here?"
     "Ranchan?" The question was asked without much certainty.
     "Hai!" he called back.
     The door to the kitchen burst open a moment later as Ukyou
rushed out. Her hair was tied behind her head in a braid, her
face filled with sublime joy as she quickly covered the distance
between the door and himself. "Ranchan! You're awake. I was so
worried."
    Ranma found himself in Ukyou's arms a second later as she
crushed him against her soft body in a fierce embrace. "Ucchan,
could you please let me go?" he asked as his ribs cracked under
her ministrations. 
     "Oh, I'm sorry, Ranchan. I was just so worried," she
apologized as she released Ranma, "Everyone was. We all thought
you were going to die. I mean Cologne wasn't helping until.." She
stopped speaking for a moment, but then she quickly pressed on
as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "But you're okay
now. That's all that matters."
     With an insistent tug on his arm, Ukyou lead him over to the
counter. "C'mere, Ranchan. You've gotta be hungry. I'll whip up
your favorite." Before he could protest, he was seated and Ukyou
was warming up the grill as she began to mix some batter. Ranma
was not about to be distracted by this, even though his stomach
was trying to beat his mind into submission. There were just too
many questions he had, and Ukyou's mention of Cologne had
intrigued him. He wanted to know what the ghoul had been up to.
     "Ucchan, what happened?" he asked, "Why am I at your place?
Where's Akane and the rest? And what the heck do you mean by
Cologne wasn't helping? I want some answers, Ucchan."
     "Ranchan, eat something first. Then I'll.."
     He slammed his fist down on the counter, cutting her short.
"Dammit! You can talk while you cook. You're hiding something. I
don't like being in the dark, Ukyou. I've been through hell, and
I deserve some sort of an answer. Now tell me everything!" He was 
surprised by his outburst. The anger had been there instantly,
and it confused him. In most cases it took a lot to set him off,
and as far as he could tell, Ukyou had never set him off. He did
not have time to consider his emotional stability, however. He
needed answers.
     "Everything?" she asked timidly.
     "Everything, or I leave." He wasn't serious about his
threat, but than Ukyou didn't know that he was still too weak to
walk much more than a mile, and that was being optimistic.
     "Hai," Ukyou answered in a resigned voice, "But only if you
promise to stay here for a few days. A week at most."
     "Iie."
     "But, Ranchan.."
     "Ukyou, I could just leave and go ask someone else. If you
want me to stay, something is not right. I'm not stupid. I won't
be sidelined by a promise to you. I won't be a pawn, Ucchan. Now
tell me, or I leave." He spoke slowly, concentrating on each
word. He was not used to speaking like this. Generally spitting
out whatever came to mind was the easier path, but he wanted no
misunderstandings between Ukyou and himself.
     "Hai," Ukyou finally agreed. She turned around to face
Ranma. For the first time since he had entered the dining room,
Ukyou got a good look at him. He looked haggard, and she suddenly
realized he was still a she. "Do you want some hot water?" she
asked hoping to distract her.
     "Just get on with it, Ucchan," Ranma pleaded half-heartedly.
At that moment, the strength Ranma had forced into her features
disappeared to be replaced by a weary and pained expression. She
was leaning heavily against the counter, her hand clutching
something. Ukyou leaned closer to see what it was and then drew
back like she had just found a live snake in her bed.
     "Why are you still carrying that thing?" Like Akane, she had
come to hate the sight of the statue. There were too many dark
memories surrounding it, too many painful and uncomfortable
moments. It filled her with revulsion every time she saw it.
     "What thing?"
     "That statue. Throw it away, break it. I don't care what you
do to it, just get rid of it. That thing caused all of this."
     Curious, Ranma glanced down at her right hand and saw the
Statue of Boukyaku held protectively in her fist. Its presence
was a surprise to her. Ranma didn't remember picking it up when
she left Ukyou's room, but as she pondered the situation, she
decided that it was probably because she was still worried about
Xian Lin. 
     On impulse, she gave it a cursory examination. Xian Lin's
white aura still glowed steadily around the idol. Being the first
time she had actually observed the statue, Ranma was a little
curious. She did not see anything repulsive about it. Really
there was no form to the random swirls of dark stone. No, that
was not quite true. There was a sense of comfort in the pattern.
It was almost like Xian Lin's personality had become one with the
idol. It relived her momentarily, since she did not have to worry
about Xian Lin being in any immediate danger.  But if the statue
was harmed? Or lost? Ranma was unable to puzzle out the answer to
that query, but the possible answers terrified her.
     On account of this, even the idea of throwing the statue
away like some piece of rubbish was inconceivable to Ranma. If
she did, she would be ignoring her promise to Xian Lin. Keeping
the statue safe until he could find a way to help Xian Lin free
herself was part of the promise he had made.
     Besides the statue had not attacked him, Boukyaku had
attacked him. Cologne had attacked him. A burning rage filled him
as he thought of Cologne. Because of Cologne he had almost died.
Because of Cologne Xian Lin was still imprisoned. He hated
Cologne with all of his heart. What she had tried to do was
sickening to him. To be relegated to a curse for punishment was
despicable. Why could she not just fight him? Why had she tried
and kill him? In the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered was
the anger that burned in him, that he vented upon Ukyou.
     "The statue didn't do anything, Ukyou. Cologne did. She put
me in there. She nearly killed me. No! It was worse than killing
me. She was going to destroy my soul!" Ranma snarled.
     "She saved you, Ranchan," Ukyou whispered.
     "Nani?" The absurdity of Ukyou's statement caught him off
guard and dulled his anger.
     "She saved you. She performed a ceremony that broke the
spell she had put on you."
     Ranma shook her head angrily. "I don't think so. Whatever
ceremony she performed didn't save me, something else did." Ukyou
sucked in her breath in surprise. "I know. I was in there. Every
thing was fine up till the end, and then the last part just
didn't work."
     "Toufu-sensei," Ukyou exclaimed as several things clicked in
her mind.
     "What about Toufu-sensei?" Ranma asked.
     "H-he saved you. After you died, he injected something into
you, and then you started breathing again."  
     "I'll have to thank him, but I wonder why Cologne was even
trying to save me," Ranma mussed. Her recollection of what had
happened just before and after Cologne had thrown the statue was
sketchy at best. During her imprisonment, she had simply assumed
that Cologne was trying to kill her. Xian Lin had implanted the
idea that beating Boukyaku would free her from the prison. It had
not been so, but Ranma was not going to hold it against Xian Lin.
If the Amazon hadn't lied, Ranma knew she would never have even
tried to live much less escape. 
     Ukyou's mind was already ahead of Ranma. Unlike the others,
she had noticed the disappointment in the Amazon Matriarch when
Ranma had woken from the coma. Whatever had happened that night
had not gone to her plan. A picture of the calm face the old
ghoul had assumed after Ranma had gone unconscious, the callous-
ness with which she had dismissed Ranma's attempts to save
himself, filtered through her mind. Had the old ghoul wanted
Ranma dead? It made no sense, but it was the only plausible
reason. 
     "That bitch!" Ukyou seethed, "And after she made Akane and
your father give those promises. She was trying to kill you."
     "Of course she was trying to kill me," Ranma muttered. Then
something else Ukyou had said entered Ranma's thoughts. "What
promises? What are you talking about?" 
     Ukyou started guiltily and looked away from Ranma.
"Nothing," she mumbled and turned back to the grill to start
cooking.
     "Tell me, Ucchan!"
     "I-I," She frantically searched the room for an escape. If
she told Ranma about the promises, Ranma would rush out of the
door, out of her life forever. It was a certain as water hitting
Ranma. There was no escape for her. No way to keep him from
leaving.
     "Ukyou." Ukyou shuddered. It was the same voice Ranma had
used when she had broken their engagement.
     "I-I can't. Please don't make me. You'll leave me!" 
     "I'll leave you if you don't tell me. What the hell is going
on? Why am I at your place? Tell me, dammit. No more games!"
Ranma's eyes flashed in anger as she leaned over the counter.
Blue energy flickered over the girl's clenched fist, arcing
across the statue within it. "Tell me."
     With a low cry, Ukyou sank back against the side of the
grill. She realized that she had to tell him, not because
there was no way out of it, but because he deserved to know.
"Co-Cologne said she'd save you. Only, only if Akane and your
father promised to give you up and p-pledge you to Shampoo."
Ukyou waited for the explosion, for the curses, the glowing balls
of ki, but they never came.
     "What kind of promises?" Ranma's whispered question barely
reached her ears.
     "Your father and Tendou Soun-san annulled your engagement,
and then your father pledged you to Shampoo. It was all on your
family's honour. She made it giri, Ranchan."
     "Akane? What did Akane promise?"
     "To give you up, on her family honour."
     "And you?"
     "I hid. She didn't see me. We can still be together," she
glanced up hopefully, and then wished she hadn't. 
     Ranma had been speaking in a hushed, flat voice, but her
face was nothing like that. Rage burned in her eyes, mocked by
the few tears on her cheeks. Her teeth were clenched, as were her
hands. Around her flickered a blue-white aura that was slowly
filling the room with light.
     "She's got me. She's finally got me," Ranma seethed under
her breath, "If she thinks..I'm gonna..." Ranma didn't finish but
slowly rose from the counter and walked to the stairs and disap-
peared up them. "She's got me." The words echoed softly in the
dining area after Ranma had gone.
     To Ukyou, it looked like a majestic pace worthy of a warrior
bent on a noble purpose, only the intense hatred she had seen in
Ranma's eyes shattered the illusion. Then what Ranma had said
finally caught up with her. "No, he's gonna go along with it."

     Above him a few stars twinkled, somehow managing to reach
past the burning light of Tokyo. He didn't know how late it was,
just that it was late. He had left Ukyou alone in the restaurant
several hours before, making his way to her roof after changing
out of his cursed form. This was not a good time to be a girl. As
far as he was concerned this was not a good time to be alive. His
life had crashed around him in a matter of seconds. Everything he
had cared for, everyone he cared for was, like the stars,
unreachable.
     "Cologne." The name was a curse on his tongue. What she had
done went beyond everything even he thought her capable of. In
her efforts to gain him, she had sunk beneath honour to
depravity, but she had done it flawlessly. Like a spider, she had
spun her web, and he had unwittingly fallen into it. The thin,
nigh intangible threads of honour held him as if chained to a
wall. To get out he would have to chew off his own arm, and even
though he might do it, there were many other aspects he had to
consider first.
     But even now he did not want to contemplate them. Although
he knew he would have to face the inevitable, his rage was
burning like a forge within his body, tempering and hardening his
heart. Deep down he knew that he was going to suffer in some way,
and so he was preparing himself. If he was to suffer, than
Cologne would come down with him. Anger and hatred became a fuel
to drive this determination within himself.
     From the beginning, he had just wanted to spend his life
learning the martial arts. They were his life. When his father
had dragged him into his curse, he had held in the worst of his
anger and tried to deal with it. When he had been engaged, he had
accepted it for the sake of his family honour. For each new
obstacle he had accepted them in the end. He had known that no
matter how many protests he gave he would still be chased after,
engaged, used, humiliated, challenged, and beaten down by the
people he considered his only friends. His pride had borne it
with stoic silence.
     Pride, however, could only take so much, and for too long
his had borne a load even Atlas would have fallen under. When
Shampoo had come between him and Akane on their first date, he
had reached the brink of a dangerous precipice, and now he was
falling, allowing his anger and hatred to carry him forward. 
     His exhaustion and confusion did not help matters. He
thought he was trapped within Cologne's net. To him there was no
obvious way out. It was true that she had forced the promises,
but that was never a reason for honour not being held. In the
past it had been considered perfectly justifiable. If someone had
his honour forced, he was obviously not strong enough in the
first place and therefore deserved the consequences.
     That had been more than a century ago. This was modern
Japan. If such a concept existed, than Ranma had never seen it
used. Besides he would never admit that Akane and his father had
not done what was right. They had probably been worried over him,
and not the consequences. Even with that he could not be sure. 
     Though he deplored killing, he wished it were the Tokugawa
period, then a simple sword thrust would end his troubles along
with Cologne's life. At the moment he did not want an answer but
vengeance and satisfaction. For once in his life he more than
desired to remove one of the hurdles in his life, he ahd a reason
to.
     Who would know? Who would care? If he was quiet about it, no
one would notice. Or if he challenged her, no one could blame him
for her death, it would be an accident. She deserved it. How many
times had Cologne thrown his life into confusion because of that
stupid law? Too many times. Too many times. He hated her that
much. He wanted Cologne dead. 
     Then his hand fell to the statue, feeling the smooth stone,
the calming effect of Xian Lin. It was as if a door opened in his
mind, showing him what he had been about to do. Shock and
self-loathing pushed aside his anger. "Oh god," he whispered in
horror, "What was I gonna do? I was gonna kill her." He shook his
head in stunned disbelief. What had Cologne brought him to? Was
he going to let her deeds taint his life by forcing him into a
rash course? 
     He wanted to answer no, but his previous thoughts denied him
that luxury. If he had not had the statue, if he had never meet
Xian Lin, he would have killed Cologne and sentenced himself to a
life worse than the one he was following. Even now he was still
aware of the anger burning in the back of his heart, waiting for
him to let down his guard again.
     Lifting his eyes, he gazed into the sparsely filled sky. Why
did his life have to be so complicated? He tried to do the best
he could, and the world seemed bent on destroying him, and now
his own emotions were throwing themselves against him. At some
point he knew something had to give, and he prayed that it wasn't
him that did. 
     If he lost it, he would forever give up the only things that
mattered in his life. His art, his family, and Akane. He could
never give them up, especially Akane, but now he was being forced
to. He was being pulled around by a leash once again, and he saw
no way out of it. So many problems, so few answers. 
     Alone on the roof, he sat and watched the stars, praying
that some answer would appear before him, but heavens have never
cared about man. They ignored Ranma as he muddled through his
life. There was no one to take the load from his shoulders, for
him to lean on. He would never allow anyone to suffer because of
him. His pride forced him to take the punishment with stoic calm.
What did it matter? It was his load and he would bear, eventhough
he saw no way of ever removing it from his shoulders.

     Cologne, exalted Matriarch of the Amazon Tribe, master of
martial arts, and healer cracked her pipe against the fireplace
mantel with a sharp jerk. A shower of glowing sparks filled the
air around the pipe, only to blink out one by one like fireflies
in the night. With an audible grunt of dissatisfaction, she
reached into a pouch and brought out some tobacco. She tamped it
into the bowl of her pipe and then lit it from the last dying
embers of the fire place. 
     Clamping the pipe stem firmly between her teeth, she puffed
furiously as she watched the darkened kitchen and dining area.
For the first time in her life she was not in control, and she
found that it tasted bitter on her tongue. It was impossible to
point down the point she had lost control. She wanted to believe
it had been when Ranma had disappeared that morning. She was not
going to delude herself though. That had only been the last in a
series of setbacks. The doctor, the failure to retrieve the
statue from the boy, simply having her future son-in-law react so
unpredictably to the Judgement. No, things were not going well.
     She had to find the boy and get him out of Japan before
anything else happened. The oaths would bind hm to her, and if
they didn't she would have to kill him. She was not prepared to
do that. It was not that she was squeamish about killing Ranma.
She was doubting whether she could actually accomplish it. Trying
to grab the statue from the unconscious Ranma had taught her a
harsh lesson. Without warning, a blast of white energy had washed
through her body with the force of a tsunami, overpowering all of
her defenses. It had only been through sheer force of will that
had prevented her from screaming in pain. Never had she felt such
power, such pure energy. Absently she rubbed her right hand. It
still stung from the blast, despite her best efforts to relieve
the discomfort.
     She didn't know if it had been a reaction from the statue or
from Ranma, but whatever it was, it was dangerous to her. If it
had been Ranma she did not want to know. To have such power while
unaware of the world. She shuddered at the implications of that.
She could not deal with a full blast of whatever it had been. If
he fought, she knew the chances of success decreased
considerably. Yet how could she get Ranma out of the country if
he did not agree? 
     Although she did not want to, she realized she might have to
use a few of her more exotic potions. If Mousse returned soon, it
would be even better. If he had succeeded, then she would be able
to control Ranma with no problem, but she could not control him
until she found him. 
     There were only a few places he could be. The obvious one
was somewhere at the Tendou household, although she had already
checked and he wasn't there. There was always the possibility
that they might have hidden him, but where? One of the other
fiancees? She had yet to check the Ukyou girl's restaurant, but
if Ranma was there, he would keep for a time. Actually she almost
preferred him there. At least then someone would be keeping him
away from the Tendou's, at least she hoped that was the case.
     Her only other option was to let the Saotome boy come to
her. It was a little more risky. He might come seeking blood, but
then he also might come to try and reason with her. She doubted
it would be the latter, but there was always hope. 
     Hope was overrated though. Only a fool trusted in hope and
luck. In her lifetime, she had never seen anything good come from
hope and luck accept pain and tragedy. She needed a definite
plan, and she did not have one. Everything had been set in place.
A lot of it had fallen apart but the foundation was still intact.
Once the walls settled there still might be a chance to salvage
the entire structure, but could she wait.
     There was little else to do, she decided after a few
moments. It was either wait or take the chance of throwing
gasoline on the fire by forcing her son-in-law's hand. She knew
he had a short fuse, and it would be made even shorter when he
discovered how well she had trapped him. 
     She knew he would agree. The honour was too important to the
boy. Even if he did love the Tendou girl, he would force himself
to come to her and find a way out of the predicament in the most
honourable way possible. The possibility of him not doing the
expected was nigh inconceivable to Cologne. She expected the sun
to shine at night before she expected Ranma to forego honour. But
there was always the possibility, she reminded herself.
     She realized this was true and decided to take a few prepa-
rations. She would let Ranma come to her, like he would. When he
did, she would be waiting. If he did not agree, than she would
force him. There were ways to subdue even the strongest and most
determined human, and she had all of them within her possession.
This was the last time that the honour of the Amazon's was to be
threatened. 
     A tiny smile crept across her face, turning the wrinkled
skin into a mass of crevasses and valleys. Taking one more long
pull on her pipe, she knocked it against the fireplace mantel
once more and watched as a new cloud of orange and red embers
floated and slowly died in the air. Ranma had as much chance of
escaping as those embers did of reaching the ground burning, she
decided as she left the kitchen. Behind her a larger ember
touched the flagstones and flared briefly before dying.  
     
     Ranma wearily entered the dining area. After spending most
of the night thinking, Ranma had finally fallen asleep on the
roof in the early morning. Unfortunately, or fortunately
depending on what was more important, a sudden storm had made it
impossible for her to sleep much past sunrise. So now, not only
was she tired and cranky, her clothes were soaked completely
through and hanging ungracefully off of her figure.
     "Ohayo, Ranchan," Ukyou called out cheerily as Ranma walked
up to the counter and slid onto one of the stools. "Breakfast
will be just a moment."
     Ranma grunted a response at Ukyou's still turned back and
silently waited for the food. A few moments later, a steaming
okonomiyaki was dropped in front of her. All of her troubles
disappeared as the delicious aroma assaulted her senses.
Grumbling loudly, her stomach reminded her that she had not eaten
last night and probably not that much over the past weeks either. 
     Ranma was one who understood the wisdom of listening to her 
stomach. In a matter of moments, she was devouring the steaming
food almost as fast as she could throw punches. As always, Ucchan
was ready with another when Ranma had finished the first. Ranma
barely noticed the new okonomiyaki, it was food and she was
starving. 
     When only the last few bites of the third one were left,
Ranma began to slow down and actually taste the food. Swallowing
the last bite, she glanced at the fourth one and dismissed it for
the moment, she knew what she had eaten would tide her over until
lunch at least.
     "Do you want some hot water, Ranchan?" Ranma shook her head
at Ukyou's question.
     "No, I'll get it later," she explained. "I just want to know
if there is anything you didn't tell me yesterday."
     "I told you everything, Ranchan. I'm sorry, but I was just
not paying too much attention. I mean I was watching, but I
really didn't have much to do with this. Even when your father
and Akane went to look for that Ouchi-sensei in Okinawa, I just
sorta followed along."
     "Ouchi-sensei?" Ranma asked curiously. "Did he have a cure
or something?" The fact that Akane had not just given in without
a fight pleased him, but it also meant that she had known exactly
what her promise would entail.
     Ukyou brought her own food to the counter and sat across
from Ranma. She picked at her okonomiyaki for a moment and then
spoke again. "This entire thing has been a nightmare. I don't
know all of it, but Akane told me a few things. They were trying
to find some way to save you, but nothing was working. Toufu-
sensei heard a rumor of this guy in Okinawa who had broken that
curse before. I sort of fell into the plan to go, and then Akane,
your dad, and I were all off to Okinawa."
     "It didn't work though. When we found Ouchi, he had been
dead for several months. It was a crushing blow to all of us, and
when we got back, there wasn't any time left to find another
cure. So Akane and your dad and Tendou-san all made those stupid
oaths."
     Ranma could tell that her friend was leaving a lot out of
the story, but it did not matter. That her friends and family had
not lain down and meekly accepted what fate had placed in their
path lifted Ranma's spirits a tiny bit. Maybe things were not
going to be easy for her, but maybe they were not as bleak as she
thought.
     "Ranchan, what're you planning." Ukyou recognized the
thoughtful look in her iinazuke's eyes. "I don't want you doing
anything rash." 
     "I'm thinking I've gotta go talk to some people," Ranma
stated as she started to push away from the counter. After the
previous nights loss of control, doing something rash was the
last thing on her mind. She needed information. As far as she was
concerned, it was time to settle a few of her new troubles.
     "No," Ukyou exclaimed a little more forcibly than she had
intended, but the sight of Ranma starting to leave had scared her
for some primal reason. She felt that, if Ranma left now, she
would never return. "Please don't leave me. Stay here with me. We
could be happy, Ranchan. This our chance. I don't care about
those stupid promises. I can support you and a dojo. Besides, no
one knows where you are. They all think you just disappeared." It
wasn't exactly the truth, but Nabiki was on her side, wasn't she?
"Please," she begged, grabbing Ranma's petite hand.
     As Ukyou's impassioned plea washed over her, Ranma was
struck dumb. It was such an easy answer, but was it one she could
live with? In her heart she knew she couldn't, but her mind kept
saying to go along with it, just for a little while. If she did
go with Ukyou, she could hide from the world and her troubles.
For once she would not have to deal with the problems of her
life. Run and hide just like her father. 
     "No!" Anger washed over her. She would never become her
father.  "If I start running now, what'll stop me from running
from the next problem and the next. I'm not going to be like
that, Ucchan. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I can't continue to do
things like that. It has to stop somewhere, and now is the best
time to start."
     "I understand, Ranchan," Ukyou said in a small voice.
     "But you still don't like it," Ranma finished softly. She
sat back down at the counter, and squeezed Ukyou's hand. "There's
a lot of things I don't like either, but I still live with them."
She pointed at her breasts. "I didn't want this body. I didn't
want four fiancees and dozens of other girls chasing after me. I
never asked to beat Shampoo, or to have to deal with Cologne."
     "I never said you did," Ukyou answered.
     Ranma didn't hear her though. "Do you think I wanted to be
thrown in the statue and fight for my existence? What did I do to
deserve all of this? I followed my father. I never took care of
things. I never said no to anyone. I hated hurting people I cared
for, and I still do. But guess what, Ucchan. Ya don't get
anywhere in life without hurting people. Nice guys finish last,
and I won't finish last in this."
     Ranma pushed herself away from the counter and began pacing
about the room in silence for a few moments before she faced
Ukyou, who was starring at her in sympathy and shock. 
     "Ya know, Ryouga always attacks me complaining 'bout how
horrid his life's been because of me. He keeps attacking me again
and again just making it worse for him and me. Maybe if he sat
down and thought for just one damn minute, he'd realize that it
ain't all my fault."
     "I ain't saying I'm better, Ukyou. I've blamed everything on
Oyaji and on those around me. Well it might not be my fault that
all of this happened, but it sure as hell is my problem. So what
do I do? Run from it? Ignore it? None of 'em have worked yet. So
I ain't gonna do that anymore. Maybe if I just be a man about
this and face it, than I might have some kinda life that I want."
     "Ranchan, I'm sorry. I don't want you to run away, but let
things settle first. Give everyone a chance to calm down and then
maybe we can work things out to everyone's satisfaction. If
nothing else we can get them back to the way they were," Ukyou
begged.
     "The way they were," Ranma laughed derisively, "I'll be
damned if I go back to the way they were. No, Ukyou. I finish
this now. If it takes me the rest of my life to put things right,
than it'll take me the rest of my life. I'm in a pickle here,
Ukyou, but I'm not giving up. I won't let anyone push and prod me
like some damn puppet."
     "But,"
     "That's my last word, Ucchan!" Ranma shouted. Ukyou took an
involuntary step backwards. She clearly remembered the anger in
Ranma the previous night. Ranma saw this and her face softened as
did her tone. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta do this. I've got
promises to fulfill." Ranma absently hefted the statue she had
been holding the entire time. "I'll see ya, Ucchan." With that
said, Ranma silently left the okonomiyaki-ya, her face set in a
determined expression. She had a daunting task in front of her,
and this was just the first step. 
     Behind her, Ukyou couldn't control the tears as they fell
down her cheeks. Something told her, Ranma had walked out of her
life forever. "Wakare, Ranchan. Wakare," she whispered softly and
then started crying in earnest. 

     "C'mon, Takanari, Give me the money. I haven't got all day,"
Nabiki demanded impatiently.
     The dark-haired boy in front of her twiddled his thumbs
nervously while he meticulously examined his shoes. Tentatively,
he glanced up and then dropped his eyes when he saw the fire
burning in Nabiki's cold glare. "I-I don't have all the money,
Nabiki-san," he stammered in excuse. "If you could just give me a
few more days...Tomorrow at least." He quickly amended as he
heard her teeth grind together. 
     "How much do you have on you?" she asked sweetly. Takanari
shuddered in dread.
     "I've only got seven thousand, Nabiki," he offered
hopefully. "I can get the rest by tomorrow, I swear. I've got a
few people who owe me. Really, I do."
     "Takanari-san," Nabiki said in a reasonable voice, "If you
had friends who owed you, and you knew that I was going to
collect today, you probably should've collected, ne?"
     "Soo-de su, Nabiki-san. It's just that I-I, ah, I forgot,
and then some things came up." 
     "You know what happens when I'm not paid."
     "But it's not fair," Takanari protested. "It's not my
fault!"
     "Tsk, tsk. Not your fault? Taka, I didn't force you into
that position. Is it my fault you chose the wrong time and place,
allowing me to get the pictures?"
     "No, it's not," Takanari conceded, his shoulders slouching
in defeat.
     "Listen, Taka. I'm feeling a little magnanimous today, and
since this is the first time you've done business with me, I'll
give you a break."
     "Arigato gozaimasu, Nabiki-san. Arigato." Takanari started
backing away, bowing his head in thanks.
     "Just a minute," Nabiki snapped, "Give me the seven thousand
now." She held out her hand, and Takanari counted out the money
from his wallet and handed it to her. "Tomorrow morning, you will
pay back the other three thousand plus two thousand in interest,
and you owe me a favor, to be collected at my leisure, or else
that picture goes to your girlfriend, your parents, and I post it
in the girl's locker room. Got it?" Takanari nodded his head in
fear. "I'm so glad. That'll be all." She dismissed him with a
wave of her hand. Takanari quickly scampered form Nabiki's sight,
glad that the torment was over for the day.
     "When will they learn?" Nabiki muttered as she made a brief
summary of the event in the notebook she always carried with her.
It was kind of nice to be so feared by the student body, but it
was also losing it's challenge. Her reputation had grown so much
over the years that people automatically were in a pliable
position by the time she started talking to them. It made her job
easier, but it also added an amount of tedium to the process.
     Customers like Takanari were far too easy for her. She
wanted a challenge again, the thrill of discovery, the adrenaline
of the hunt, and then the ecstasy of crushing a superior foe.
That was why the prospect of going up against Cologne was such a
stimulating one. In that woman, the experience of age, the
ruthless efficiency of the hunter, and the cunning of a fox were
all wrapped up into one package. Cologne was a deadly opponent,
but one Nabiki was going to enjoy humiliating.
     Nabiki started walking toward school. With half an eye, she
observed the daily play of life at Furinkan unfold around her.
She was not too interested in it today. There were other things
being hatched by her mind than the weaning of money from the
normal group. One was Togashi Raiko. In most cases, Nabiki would
have admired what the girl had done, using another person to get
at someone, but when that person was Akane, it was a whole
different matter. Nabiki used Akane sometimes, but it was never
that cruel or heartless. She never intended to hurt her sister.
It was for the cruelty that Nabiki would do something to that
girl, but for now she had to dig herself a foothold in the battle
with Cologne.
     The game with Cologne had started on the wrong foot for
Nabiki. She had been maneuvered into a position where she was
being forced to make a move or concede before the game had even
started. But that was before. Cologne had held the cards tightly
in her hands, but Nabiki knew that the tighter one held onto
their cards the more chance there was of gaining one of those
cards. In the end Cologne had made a simple mistake, not counting
all the players. So now, because of Kuonji Ukyou, Nabiki had
Cologne's ace up her own sleeve.
     Now came the hard part. How did she use that ace? Although
holding Ranma would delay the game, Nabiki knew it was delusional
to even consider that she could keep Ranma out of sight for much
more than a few days, unless of course she drugged him.
     She mulled over that idea for a moment as she sat down under
a tree, but dismissed it as more risky than helpful. Knowing
Ranma, he become more untenable with drugs than without. The
question of controlling Ranma was a difficult one to answer. In
most situations she could maneuver Ranma to her satisfaction, but
controlling how he thought was another matter. Manipulating
Ranma's actions and sense of honour was like reading a book as
the pages burned; nevertheless, she still had a good fifteen
minutes to get to class and wanted to figure this thing out.
     The problem with Ranma was centered on those promises.
Cologne had covered her tracks well with them. All other engage-
ments had been called off. Both her father and Genma-ojisan had
broken their promise together. To complicate it further, Akane
had forced them all to follow her wishes, and if Ranma found that
out, his response was completely unpredictable, just like it
always was with Akane.
     "This would be a lot easier if Ranma wasn't so stuck up on
honour," she muttered under her breath. That's where the problem
lay. Ranma. His very personality pushed him away from what she
wanted and toward what Cologne wanted. If there was just a way to
circumvent that, or maybe to get Cologne out of the picture. Next
to a lobotomy and a hitman, those were rather impossible items as
far as she could tell.
     Maybe if she came at this from a different angle, say
through Shampoo. Cologne had to have some sort of vested interest
in the girl. Maybe she could arrange a situation where it was
more advantageous for Cologne to protect Shampoo than to hold
onto Ranma. She filed the possibility away for further consider-
ation, mostly because it was the only plausible idea she had come
up with after hours of brain-storming.
     Preoccupied by her dilemma, Nabiki barely noticed Ukyou,
until the girl was almost on top of her. "What do you need,
Ukyou?" Nabiki asked absently.
     "Nabiki, it's Ranma." At the sound of her anguished voice,
Nabiki quickly lost her focus and instead concentrated on Ukyou.
She noticed the okonomiyaki-chef had been crying recently and was
still upset about it. 
     "What about Ranma?" Nabiki asked in a tight voice. She had a
bad feeling that all her plans were about to come to naught.
     "H-he walked out on me this morning. He was really mad about
what had happened. He said he had to talk to some people and
figure out exactly what had happened. I tried to stop him, I
really did. He didn't want to listen though." Ukyou was crying in
desperation and helplessness again, the words tumbling out almost
incoherently.
     "Dammit!" Nabiki snapped. "I told you to keep him at your
place. Can't you keep Ranma in one place for longer than a night?
I know he's stubborn, but he's not that hard to manipulate."
     "I couldn't," Ukyou countered. "He's changed. He's really
changed, Nabiki. I don't know what happened to him exactly. He
mentioned a few things about fighting for his soul and he carries
that statue with him constantly. It's frightening at times."
     Nabiki shook her head. When Ukyou said Ranma was different,
she was probably right. The desperation and the hint of fear in
the girl's voice removed all other doubts. She didn't know how,
but Ranma had obviously found some sort of righteous streak in
him. Nabiki shuddered at that one. Ranma was never really focused
on one thing except martial arts, and if he had found something
in this, he could be nigh unmanageable. She had to get to him
before he did something really stupid, like commit seppuku.
     "Where did he go?" Nabiki asked.
     "I-I think he went to Toufu-sensei. He said that Cologne did
nothing to save him, that she screwed up the ceremony, but he
wanted to talk to Toufu-sensei first. From there, I don't know."
     Nabiki sighed in relief. Toufu would know how to handle
Ranma. Now this new information was rather interesting. If Ranma
thought Cologne had not done anything to save him, than he must
have a good reason why. This revelation opened a whole new can of
worms, one that might just help her out.
     Standing up, Nabiki guided Ukyou toward the school. "Don't
worry. Toufu-sensei will take care of Ranma. Why don't you tell
me everything Ranma told you about Cologne and what he went
through." Slowly she dragged the story form Ukyou, and by the
time she arrived at class, she was smiling confidently. Things
were definitely looking up. Now all she had to do was get Ranma
under control.
      
     The pavement was a blur beneath his pounding feet. His
breath rattled in his throat in rhythm with the soft slap of his
cloth shoes on the road. Sweat rolled from his forehead. Flashing
like a glittering diamond in the sun, it splattered to the
ground, a few small drops scattering onto the rough grass that
ran beside the road and up to the speeding line of trees he
watched from the corner of his eye.
     Usually a run like this one would not have phased him, but
that was before. Now it was sheer agony to force himself to con-
tinue. His muscles protested the strain, his heart was pounding
violently in his ears, his side burning in pain. He kept going.
He needed to get back into condition, he had to work off his
anger, calm himself.
     Running served another purpose, though. For him it was a
time to think and try and place some kind of order on his world.
It was the same when he performed his katas, but at the moment he
did not have access to the dojo, and was uncertain about the
family reaction if he went there, so he ran and let the thoughts
tumble through his mind like errant children.
     It wasn't helping him much either. His problems were getting
deeper every minute he was awake. Each person he talked to heaped
just that many more obstacles in his path. From Ukyou he had dis-
covered what exactly had happened and the extent of his problems.
Of course she had not known specifics, or actually he had not
dragged any specifics out of her, but then he had been a little
upset at the time. Hell he was still upset, and going to Toufu- 
sensei had not helped anything.
     Actually, going to Toufu had been a mistake on his part. All
of the hope he had had of gaining an answer, or at least a clear
path to follow, had been for naught. The first few minutes had
dashed his optimism like a ship upon the rocks. Not only did
Toufu not refute Ukyou, he had explained that everyone had
witnessed, and it had not been forced, like he had secretly
hoped. The situation was not bad, it was ugly, very ugly.
     On top of the witnessing, the old bat had made the condi-
tions under which they were administered ironclad. She had forced
his family to give them without stipulation, without expecting
anything in return. In short, she would only have attempted to
save him once the oaths were given, and whether she saved him or
not was never questioned. The hag had used his family, played
them like a fiddle, and that sent his blood racing in his ears. 
     She had used his family to get at him. Worse than that,
Ranma was certain that she had been toying with their affection
and concern for him in order to hurt them even more when he
actually died. As far as he was concerned, she had never intended
to save his life. If she had, she would not have used Boukyaku to
do her dirty work.
     He couldn't prove it, but he didn't need proof. He had been
in that statue. He had fought for his life. He had watched the
final step of the cure take effect and do absolutely nothing. If
she had saved him, then Akane would cook a delicious dinner for
him. Cologne had done nothing to save him. Xian Lin had stood in
front of him, held off Boukyaku as he was thrown back into his
body because of Toufu-sensei. That didn't matter though. Cologne
had still collected her promises and made off like a bandit. And
those damn oaths held.
     He swore silently and viciously kicked a low-hanging branch
as he passed it. The branch was ripped from the tree by his kick
and sent spinning into the ditch beside the road where it came to
a rest. Ranma swore again and stopped running, turning back to
see the ragged break that was already dripping clear sap.
"Stupid! Why'd you do that?" he railed against himself.
     It was useless, ineffective rage, and it scared him. Never
before had he blindly struck out like that. If he had been
running in the park or a city street, it would have been a
dangerous loss of control. It was like last night, it was like
this morning with Ukyou, and each time it happened he became more
and more certain that he was going to eventually hurt someone.
     This anger was not as intense as the last night, but he
still wanted to hit something, anything. It wasn't going away and 
he needed a way to make it disappear. He only knew of one way,
and that was something Xian Lin had taught him. He decided to
finish his run later and try and find his wa again. If he could
do that, he would be able to begin looking at his problems more
objectively without the anger and frustration clouding his
judgement.
     Moving from the road into the shade of the trees, he leaned
back against one of the rough trunks. Closing his eyes, he tried
to meditate like Xian Lin had taught him. Turning inward, he
tried to find his wa. He cleared his mind, pushed the outside
away and burrowed inward. For a moment he found something, but
then it shattered as a truck blasted it's horn as it barreled by
his position.     
     Shaking his head in annoyance, he tried it again. Clear the
mind. There is no emotion. There is no pain. There is peace.
There is calm. The mantra repeated again and again. He slowly
slipped closer, but a breeze rustled the leaves of the tree, a
drop of sweat hit his hand, then a fly bit him. 
     Cursing, Ranma slapped the offending creature and the sank
back into the tree. "Why is this so hard?" he shouted. It had
been so easy with Xian Lin teaching him. How could he do it while
surrounded by Boukyaku but not in the safety of his own physical
world? Why?
     Impotent rage raced through him like a wild grass fire,
sweeping him away with it. He slammed his fist into a stone,
shattering it, imbedding small fragments of the rock in his skin.
He hated this. He despised being used, being forced. But what
could he do?
     He could throw away his honour or more importantly his
family's? No, he couldn't do that. Honour was what he had based
his life on. It was the one constant standard he could hold
himself to, despite what his father had done. His father's
actions had not touched him or tainted him until recently, and
even then he had held himself above it, trying to find a way out.
But there was no way out of this. He did not see a door with an
exit sign. He saw a bunch of black pits that all led to ruin for
him, those around him, or both.
    From what he understood of Ukyou's rather sketchy account and
Toufu's more detailed one, his father and Tendou Soun-san along
with Akane had sworn under their family names. It invoked a part
of honour that Ranma was not willing to touch much less skirt
around like he might do with his personal honour. The very
thought of breaking his family's word repulsed him. Everything he
had ever been taught bound his loyalty to his family with steel
chains and manacles.
     If it had been his own honour, that would have been one
thing. If it had been their personal honour, he would have had
few qualms ignoring it as long as they approved. This was giri
though. For him to flout it was to disgrace his family name, to
destroy his own honour, to bring about the deaths of those he
loved through ritual suicide.
     This wasn't like with the other engagements. His father's
engaging him to Ukyou had been dishonourable in the first place.
For Ranma to break it was not a judgement against him, the
promise to the Tendou's held prominence and validity over the
others. The only judgement would be on his father for making the
specious promise in the first place; however, that wasn't the
entire story. Included in that were reparations to be made to
Ukyou and her family, the loss of honour he incurred from
breaking a family promise. On top of this was the shame he might
face. He had let the engagement stand even though he had known it
was a fallacy. That reflected on his character. Really it had
been a no win situation, but for Akane he had done it. 
     He was on thinner ice with breaking his engagement to Akane.
That had involved giri, untainted by conflicting duties, but he
rationalized it by saying that he intended to marry her on his
own terms and that it was done to expedite the removal of the
other fiancees. The spirit of the promise was kept if not the
letter, and so although he personally lost honour, his family
saved face.
     He had done that for love, so that he and Akane would have a
chance at the relationship they deserved. Love. It was a strange
concept to him. In his training there had been little love
between himself and his father, or if there had been, it had been
buried like an ancient treasure. His father was the teacher, he
was the student. That was a relationship based on respect, obedi-
ence, and discipline. If love had entered the picture, Ranma had
not realized it or benefited from it.
     If anyone had asked him what love was, he would have just
shrugged his shoulders and answered it was something you feel for
someone. Other than that definition, he did not know. How was he
supposed to? He knew he loved his mother, and that she had loved
him, but that was only natural. What good did that do when he
couldn't even approach her? How could he tell if he loved someone
else? 
     With Akane he just assumed what he felt was love. It was
simpler than trying to sort out his feelings. When he was around
her, everything was more confusing than his literature class, and
just as obscure to him. At one moment he wanted to protect her
and keep others away from her. The next he was hurting her
himself and telling her to stay away.  
     Alone within Boukyaku's prison, he had begun to realize how
much a part of his life she was becoming. She was like his
shadow. When she was there it was easy to ignore her and let
things run, but when she disappeared there was an incompleteness,
an emptiness inside him. What would happen if he let her go
forever?
     The crux of the situation was that he wasn't sure if she
even cared for him, or if she did care for him, how much did she
care? If he was to believe Ukyou and Toufu, Akane had given him
up to save his life. Did that mean she cared for him? Or was it
simply that she did not want his death on her hands? Or had she
been persuaded by his father? He seriously doubted it was like
that. Before his world had crumbled around him like an ancient
monument, they had been happy together. They had been exploring
something that both of them had wanted to try, a relationship.
But where did that relationship stand in the larger scheme?
     There were so many unanswered questions that were pulling at
him. He felt like a doll caught between squabbling siblings, and
he hated it. If he went with his honour, he might hurt Akane. If
he broke his honour, he'd be disgraced, and maybe Akane did not
want him in the first place. Was love that much more important
than honour? Hadn't he lived without it his entire life? What did
it matter if he just followed the only concept he had ever fully
understood? Because it felt wrong. 
       Could he do this for love, though? Was he willing to give
everything up for the person who meant everything to him? His
heart told him yes, but his mind, his training, his very essence
screamed in horror at the thought of what he contemplated. It
would almost be easier to commit seppuku.
     He shook his head violently as the thought entered his mind.
That was one place he would not go. It had not helped in the
first place with Akane, and it would not help now. For him it
would only be a fancier name for running away, and he refused to
do that. Seppuku was not meant to be used to escape problems. It
was a way to gain back honour. It was a way to atone for failure,
but sokotsu-shi was not an option open to him. Funshi was a
probable course, but he did not wish to have his death only be a
cry against what had been forced on him. 
     Compounding this was the fact that he was not a samurai of
old or a follower of bushidou. He understood the tenets of
bushidou, but he was not willing to make a resolution to die
above all else in life. For him the ultimate goal was his martial
arts, nothing else had ever mattered, until now. But could he
give up his love for honour, or vice versa?
     Just because he did not follow bushidou, did not mean he did
not have honour. His honour was that of a warrior, that of a
dutiful son. It was a sense of honour that had been ingrained
first by a mother he barely remembered, and then a father who,
though with a perverted sense of honour, had drilled it into him.
     Also, because he did not follow bushidou, he was not forced
upon the single goal of dying to the exclusion of all else. He
was human, and he wanted to have a life that was his own. Someday
he wanted a family. He wanted a dojo in which he could train
students and his own children. But with either of the choices he
now had, he lost one of them forever.
     There was an old proverb that stated that the choice between
love and honour is never an easy one. As far as Ranma was
concerned there could be nothing more truthful than that. With
either choice, he lost something that he cared deeply about. For
Ranma, it was turning into a choice between cutting out his heart
or blowing his brains out with a revolver when he didn't want to
die in the first place.
     If he could just find a way to nullify the oaths, or to make
it so Shampoo did not have to marry him. Something sparked in his
mind. Something about marriage. His mind told him he was missing
the obvious, but he couldn't think about it. He knew it had to do
with his current situation, but what was it? 
     Screaming in silent frustration he released that avenue of
thought, hoping that the answer would turn up some other time. He
did not have the time to waste on tracking down errant thoughts,
and he doubted it would help him anyway. If he let things go and
fester, it would only become harder to make the choice. He had to
make a choice, and make one soon. 
     Deciding to make a choice was easy, but actually making it
was like trying to touch the stars. There were still so many
questions. Obligations pulling him one way, emotions the other,
and in the middle was his own uncertainty, entrapping and sucking
him down like a bog of quicksand. Maybe he would end up as a
pawn, but until that time he would be the one in control. It
probably would have been easier to stay with Xian Lin, he
decided, absently caressing the statue he had brought up with
him. At least with her, there had been no confusion and second
thoughts. 
       He had to answer those questions and place his obligations
in perspective. To do this he needed to talk to a few people.
Cologne was one, but there was a more important person he had to
see. Whatever she thought would decide for him. If she did not
want him, if she refused to break her honour for him, then his
choice was made; however, if she did want him, then he would try
his hardest to make sure everything worked out, no matter what
the cost.
       With this choice made, he pushed himself to his feet and
began to walk back toward Nerima. His pace steadily increased
until he was running, the pavement once again blurring beneath
his feet. This was not just about himself. There were other's
involved, and though many were important the most important was
one with blue-black hair.

     The noon sun was beating down on the black tar of the docks,
when Mousse finally slipped from his hiding place and made his
way to the railing. The Coral Lady was secured tightly to its
moorings. Spread out below her were the warehouses and docks that
sprawled along the Yokohama Port. Around Mousse the ship bustled
in activity as the large cargo hold was emptied onto the waiting
trucks below. 
     Although it was busy, Mousse could see that most of the
workers were preoccupied with their lunch breaks, only the
sailors, desperate to get on shore leave, were plugging away with
a fury that would have made the hardest naval officer nod in
approval. He knew he should wait for nightfall to go ashore. If
he left now, he might be noticed,  but he had been gone nearly
two months on a mission for the wrinkled mummy, and if he left
now, he could make Nerima sometime in the early evening. It was
worth the risk. Besides he had enough confidence in his martial
and misdirection skills to feel confident getting away.
     Pulling a length of cord from inside his white robes, he
tied a loose knot around the railing, and with a quick check to
see if anyone was watching, he slipped over the side, and rapidly
slid down the rope to the surface of the dock. As his feet hit
solid ground for the first time in two weeks, he flicked his
wrist and quickly coiled and hid the cord back in his robes.
After another cursory examination of the docks he slipped into a
maze of containers waiting to be loaded on the idling line of
trucks.
     It was one of the already loaded trucks that Mousse
approached. The drivers were off enjoying themselves, the
laborers were still eating lunch, so Mousse easily slipped inside
the cargo container unseen. Before closing the container, he
glanced back at the Coral Queen. The ship was a massive freighter
that he had stowed-away on when it docked in Sydney two weeks
ago. 
     He still was unsure why Cologne had sent him to Australia.
He knew why, but just not why she wanted what he had acquired in
the Australian outback. The plant was a strange one. Even the
Aborigines had questioned him about whether that was the plant he
wanted. He had only nodded and they had shrugged and said nothing
else. It was disconcerting, but figuring it out was not important
right now. He had other things to worry about, like Ranma. 
     It was amazing what the Aborigines had developed to survive
in the harsh wilds of Australia. He had been entranced by their
abilities and some of their weapons and ways, while searching for
Cologne. He had picked up his two guides' abilities with amazing
speed. He hoped to be able to use some of those tricks when he
faced Ranma again. 
     The old hag would be surprised by his new abilities, he was
sure of that. The possibility existed that he could finally beat
Ranma, especially since the old bat would not know any of the
counters to what he had learned. Smiling he watched the rusty
hull of the Coral Queen, the dilapidated tower structure. The
sailors affectionately called the ship the Coral Hag, but it was
not that hag, that Mousse was going to have to face soon. The
container door slid shut, blocking out the light of day. Digging
a niche for himself, Mousse settled down and waited for the truck
to begin its short journey to Tokyo.
      

     Author's Notes:

     Translations:
      
Soo-de su - "That is so" 

     
Wa - "harmony, total" is generally used to refer to
spiritual wholeness
     
sokotsu-shi - expiatory seppuku as a contrition or atonement
for one's imprudent or rash behaviour. 
     
Funnshi - seppuku which expresses indignation against the         
way one has been used by elders/superiors.
       
Bushidou- "the way of the warrior" all information on      
bushidou gained from  Bushidou: Mode or Ethic?' byRoger T. Ames.
An essay in -Japanese Aesthetics and Culture- ed. Nancy G. Hume.

Wakare - "farewell, as a noun means parting"
       
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikuskimi - "Honour, Love, and Hate"
       
       I think that covers all the translations. So to my
ramblings.

       There are almost none. I don't really have anything
important to say other than please comment on this. There will
probably be a revised version of this coming out since I'm still
trying to work the kinks out of both of Ranma's contemplative
scenes.
       Well I'm going to go and write some more. I hope you
enjoyed
this installment. I'm sorry if things are going slow, but that is
how I write and I don't want to jump into any action without
setting it up first.

       Joseph Kohle

   ----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----
   All rights and priveleges to Ranma Nibunnoichi       
   belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of her        
   series are used without her permission for the       
   purpose of entertainment only. This work of fic-
   tion is not meant for sale or profit.                    
                                                                         
   All original characters are the creation of the
   author. All copyright privileges to these chara-
   cters are reserved for the author.

   This story is a product of the author's hard work    
   and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make 
   use of any part of this work without the author's 
   knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive 
   this work.                             
            
   Comments and criticism are welcome.                   
   Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) 1997.                 
   Send all comments to Ashira@worldnet.att.net
   Find my fanfics at 
   http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/index.html