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.

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                    Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi

                    A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic
                         by Joseph Kohle
  

                     Chapter V: Separate Paths         
                    Part VI: Divergent Crossings 



                             -- 1 --


 
     The drenching rain thrashed the canvas strung across the cave
entrance, sending a dull, thrumming beat through the small alcove. 
Ryouga felt like he was trapped inside of a drum. Outside he could see
the downpour running across the mossy stones, tearing away chunks of sod
and dirt. There was no chance of him traveling through the storm without
his curse activating. It was only sheer luck that had brought him to
this cave before he was soaked through and through by the chill rain. He
was not going to risk losing his possessions again because of his
impatience.
     Impatience. A word that mocked and flawed his Art. A word that
brought grief as sure as the light-bearers brought their flame to the
lanterns every night. Yet, it was not alone in his heart, not solely
responsible for flawing his heart beyond measure. Beneath it, feeding
it, was his hatred, his anger, and his depression. That had forced him
from Akane. Even though Ranma was the spark that had lit the flames, his
anger had burned away his patience, pulled him from her arms and into
the one world he knew too well. Loneliness. And the loneliness fed his
depression and from there his hatred of Ranma. 
     Not that he needed any more reason to hate Ranma.
     Ranma had slept with Akane. Ryouga angrily shook his head. Ranma
had forced Akane, had raped her! He stabbed a branch into the burning
coals, sending a plume of sparks and embers into the cave. For a moment
Ryouga's face was lit in a hellish, molten light before the embers died.
As the light calmed, so did Ryouga's rage. He knew Ranma had not raped
Akane. His Akane had been lamenting the fact that Ranma was gone, and
had spoken nothing of force or violence, but that did not give Ranma
leave to skip the bill he owed Ryouga. 
     In his tenure as pet to Akane, Ryouga had come to understand and
know Akane more than anyone else knew her. One of those secrets imparted
and locked deep within her pet P-chan's heart was the truth of her
feelings for Ranma. Although the knowledge tore his heart from his
breast, he knew Akane loved Ranma. His only hope had been in Ranma never
loving Akane. To this end, he had always tried to drive a wedge between
them. In turth, the thought that Ranma might fall in love with Akane had
never trespassed within his mind. Ranma falling for Akane was just not
in Ryouga's perception of who Ranma was.
     Although he considered Ranma a very good fighter, sometimes even
better than himself, Ryouga had no such respect for Ranma's personality.
Ranma was a loud-mouthed braggart with an over-developed ego that led to
his insufferably arrogant and macho behaviour. More so, he was
indecisive and toyed with not only Akane's affections but Ukyou's,
Shampoo's, Kodachi's, and probably half a dozen women Ryouga had not
met. In the process, Ranma seemed to crush the lives around him,
dragging more and more people into his sick game. 
     A log split in the fire, sending a bright spark onto Ryouga's
blanket. Ryouga quickly smothered it with the blanket, leaving a dark
soot stain. He could feel the warmth bleeding from the dead ember
through the blanket and into his hands before it finally grew cold.
     Hadn't Ranma crushed the spark from his life just the same way,
leaving nothing but a cold, empty space within his heart? He did not ask
for much from life. A home, which his sense of direction denied him.
Happiness, which Ranma had stolen by knocking him from the cliff above
those cursed springs. Love. That too was a fading whisper of the past.
Ranma had taken the one person he worshiped as a goddess and had
spirited her beyond his arms forever.
     Ryouga had watched helpless as Akane was duped by Ranma, pulled in
by both hook and crook. Many times, he was able to intercede and protect
his beloved, but this last time he had failed. Ranma had seduced her,
brought her low, defiled her, and then left her to bear his child while
he sought the bed of that floozy Amazon. During that entire time, he had
somehow convinced Akane that he was coming back, and thereby Ranma was
allowing Akane's wounds to fester indefinitely. For that, he would pay.
     The canvas at the front of the cave was suddenly illuminated by a
bolt of lightning. This was followed instantly by a clap of thunder
which reverberated within the cave. Outside, Ryouga could hear the wind
rising, the sound escalating from a whooshing moan to a horrific shriek.
Sinking further back into the cave, Ryouga wrapped his blanket tighter
about himself and turned his attention back to the fire and his
troubles. 
     Ryouga snorted. Compared to Akane, he had few troubles, and he had
left her to pursue Ranma to the ends of the earth. He had made a promise
and his promise had turned out to be as good as Ranma's word. "I
promised that I'd protect her and be there for her," he muttered. "But
where am I now? Away from her, leaving her to suffer while I chase after
Ranma." He shook his head angrily. Was that what his love meant to him?
Was it so insubstantial that he could betray her like this, leaving her
when she needed someone. "No!" he screamed into the cave, his voice
rumbling off the walls, echoing the thunder in the sky.  He hadn't
deserted her, Ranma had. He'd sworn to protect her. That was what he was
doing, protecting her from Ranma, making sure she was never hurt again.
He would never allow Ranma to make her life a living hell, like he had
done to his own. 'But was it Ranma's fault?' a small, insinuating worm
asked within him.
     Ryouga turned a deaf ear to the voice. Who else could have caused
such misery to a single person? Who else could keep him from happiness?
Who else could keep him from a home? Who else? 'Yourself,' the small
worm whispered. Ryouga shut it away again as a tear slid down his face.
It couldn't be his fault. What had he ever done to deserve such a
punishment? It was Ranma. Always Ranma. Who else but Ranma? 
     Ranma tricked people. Ranma used people. Ranma insulted everyone
around him. Ranma was the cause of so many woes. For the Tendou's. For
the rest of his fiancees. For the people of Nerima. For Akane. So why
not for himself? 
     There was no reason, and it only added to the tally of Ranma's
final bill. Maybe if it had just been himself, it would have been easy,
but Akane had been brought into the picture. Ranma had used her and
thrown her away like a used tissue. Ryouga would not allow that. Never!
     In the end, he would fix everything and make her smile again. He'd
find Ranma, drag him back, and show Akane what kind of man her beloved
Ranma was. Then, when she saw how much she had been betrayed, she'd turn
to him, and Ranma's disgrace would be hung upon a sign for all the world
to see. "I didn't desert her," Ryouga whispered, clutching the blanket
tighter to his body, somehow hoping that its warmth would banish his
haunted thoughts. 
     "But you left her alone," the worm finished silently. Shaking his
head, he turned from the fire and listened to the storm send its fury
against the earth. 
     From outside the cave, there was a thunderous crack and bluish
light slipped past the tarp. For a moment all was silent then a creaking
groan filled the night as a tree tumbled from its roots to crash among
the rocks. Ryouga smiled, imagining Ranma was that tree and he the
gathering storm.


                             -- 2 --


     Mousse cursed his stupidity as he took in his situation. He had
seen the storm coming. The distant rumble of the thunder before slipping
into his bed the night before had given him ample warning, but had he
even bothered to consider putting up a tarp? Of course not. So now he
was a very annoyed duck, trying to shove the sodden blankets from off
his small form. It did not take long, but then Mousse was used to doing
it at least weekly on his endless and mind-numbing trips to satisfy
Cologne's appetite for exotic plants and cures. For some reason water
seemed to find him more often when hot water was that much harder to
acquire. Well, at least he had Ranma to boil him some now. That, of
course, was contingent on getting out from under his present woes.
     With a supreme effort for his slight body, he poked a hole to the
outside and sucked in some fresh air. From there, he managed to push
himself into the open. He was buffeted by a blast of chill air that
penetrated his feathers to brush against his skin. Shivering at the
touch, he preened his feathers back into place before he began to waddle
over to the fire, cursing his karma silently.
     In this condition, he didn't notice Ranma until he had dragged a
pot from one of their soaked packs to the fire. When he did, he squawked
in fright at what he saw.
     Ranma-onna was seated before the cold fire, her knees drawn up to
her chest as she trembled violently. Her clothing was thoroughly soaked,
hanging ungracefully off her hunched body. Loose strands of damp hair
hung about her brow and cheeks, swaying when she shook her head. Her
lips were moving silently as if she were praying, but her pale eyes were
round and haunted, almost frightening in contrast to the sanguinous
colour of her cheeks. Mousse was uncertain whether it was the cold or
what had happened that caused her to tremble, but either way, Ranma was
not in good shape.
     Vocalizing this sentiment in a short trumpet, Mousse hopped over
the dead fire and grabbed Ranma's trouser's in his beak and pulled on
them. Neither seemed to break Ranma's trance. She kept staring with
those horrid, sightless eyes at the dead fire. Worried, Mousse pecked at
Ranma's foot and finally bit one of her fingers. 
     That action provoked a response, and Mousse was sent sprawling by
Ranma's blow. Climbing to his feet, Mousse was about to show Ranma
exactly how he felt when he saw Ranma sitting in the same place, her
hand out-stretched, a look of shock on her face.
     "Shit!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Mousse. I just wasn't paying
attention." 
     Mousse shrugged as well as a duck could and motioned toward the
pot they used to boil their water. Ranma glanced at it a moment and then
nodded a little. "Sure. Hot water. I should've thought of that."
     As Ranma began to stumble around, searching for some dry wood,
Mousse settled himself on a patch of slightly damp moss and watched
Ranma. Although Ranma moved quickly at each task, she was working as if
her mind was preoccupied. She did things half-heartedly or without
really thinking about it. It took her several attempts to get the fire
started, and when it was burning merrily, she stared at it for a while.
Mousse had to quack to get Ranma's attention.
     Startled, Ranma glanced over at him and then apologized. She put a
pot of water on the fire before sinking back on her haunches and pulling
her knees to her chest, placing her once more in her original position.
     Mousse sighed and settled down. Something was bothering Ranma,
again. As a duck, though, he was unable to talk to Ranma, so he could
not get to the bottom of her problems. With a patience borne of chasing
Shampoo, he tucked his head under his wing and waited for what seemed
like an eternity for the water to boil.
     A hissing sound snapped Mousse's head up a few minutes later. With
a squawk of dismay, he saw the water boiling over the pot's edge into
the hot fire, evaporating with a hiss as it hit the hot wood. Much to
Mousse's chagrin, Ranma was watching the pot boil over and was making no
move toward it. Actually, she seemed more interested in the warmth of
the fire than the boiling water.
     A few angry quacks got Ranma's attention again. She looked at
Mousse and then the boiling water. "Gomen, Mousse. I've got a lot on my
mind." Without further words, she carefully extracted the pot and dipped
out two cups of water. One went in front of Mousse and the other she sat
by herself. Returning the pot to the fire, she resumed her contemplation
of it, moving a little closer until her soft, leather shoes were almost
touching the flames, trails of steam rising from them as they dried.
     Mousse dubiously eyed the cup of boiling water and decided to
wait. He was in no mood to be scalded this morning. Instead, he went to
retrieve his clothes from his sleeping roll. By the time he returned,
the water was cool enough. Splashing the hot liquid over his head by
grasping the cup with his bill, he quickly expanded in size until he was
standing naked in the near freezing morning air. Hastily, he slipped
into his breeches, shirt, and robe before turning back to Ranma.
     She was still sitting by the fire, in her cursed form, trembling
despite the warmth of the few logs that were now being consumed. "Are
you okay, Ranma? I mean you've been acting weird, and you've not touched
the water."
     "Huh?" Ranma asked.
     "Hot water," Mousse explained evenly, "to turn you back."
     "Oh yeah. Here. I'm sorry." Ranma handed Mousse her cup of water.
     Without thinking, Mousse grabbed the cup and threw its contents
into Ranma's face. "Get a grip!" he screamed. "What the Hell is wrong
with you today?" 
     Ranma shook his head, the water dripping from his face onto his
thoroughly drenched clothing. Mousse started as he saw that, but before
he could make a comment, Ranma pushed himself wearily to his feet. "It's
nothing. Just dreams." Shivering, he went to his pack and pulled his
things together and began to change his soaked clothing. 
     Mousse wanted to say something, but just looking at Ranma's
distant expression informed him that his teacher did not wish to be
bothered at the moment. Sighing, he packed his own things and waited
patiently as Ranma finished changing and gathering up his gear. Ranma
was ready after only a few moments. As he settled his backpack in place,
Mousse went to the fire and kicked dirt and ashes over the sputtering
coals. Turning back, he saw Ranma watching the sky. Following Ranma's
gaze, Mousse could see dark thunderheads surrounding them. Obviously the
storm was not over and was just waiting to unleash its fury again.
     "We'd better get going," Mousse observed. 
     Ranma nodded his head and then shivered as a blast of cold air cut
through the clearing. Even Mousse felt the biting chill despite his
thicker clothing. Glancing at Ranma, he saw his sensei was still wearing
his normal Chinese clothing, black pants and soft shoes. The nly
concession to the cold he'd made was to exchange his short tunic for a
long-sleeve, black shirt with two reddish-gold dragons spiraling around
the sleeves. Mystified, Mousse wondered how his teacher had survived the
night. A sudden coughing fit from Ranma made him doubt even that fact.
     "Do you wanna rest here for the day?" Mousse asked.
     Ranma shook his head. "We need to keep on schedule. The road's two
hours from here. Then we can hitch a ride. I'll rest then." There was a
note of finality in Ranma's voice, and Mousse found himself following
along as Ranma walked from the clearing and began to make his way
through the woods along a small game trail.
     They walked in silence as they descended from the hills toward the
valley through which the highway that would take them to Okayama-fu ran.
Mousse found the silence uncomfortable and attempted to break it several
times with idle conversation or questions. Each attempt, however, was
meet with Ranma's stern command to leave him alone or a stony,
disapproving glare from his teacher. 
     Mousse was finding it difficult to remain silent. Ranma walked
through the descending hills with an unsteady gait, his ragged breathing
sporadically broken by fits of racking coughs. On top of this, his
apparent listless interest in the world around him caused several close
calls with disaster. 
     The terrain was uneven and streams and puddles abounded from the
night's storm. By himself, Mousse was constantly kept on the lookout for
any water source that could cause him problems. Ranma on the other hand
was unaware of the world around him and plodded on with a zombie's
determination. Several times Mousse had to rush in to prevent Ranma from
soaking himself and escalating a dangerous situation into a life
threatening one. 
     Behind them, the approaching line of storm clouds were inexorably
gaining on the two travelers. Mousse simply prayed that the storm would
hold off until they could find a safe place to hole up for the day. His
prayers went unheard as the promise the dark clouds held was fulfilled
soon after. They had nearly reached the foot of the hills when a crack
of thunder cascaded across the sky and a sheet of rain began to slam
into the two. Mousse barely got his umbrella out in time. Ranma didn't
even attempt to protect himself and was soaked by the deluge of cold
water.
     Moving as fast as the rain allowed him to, Mousse scrambled to
Ranma's side. "We gotta get some shelter!" he shouted over a deafening
crack of thunder. 
          Ranma shook her head, the water flying from her hair and
face. She pointed down at a distant point where Mousse could see the
yellow dots of headlights moving along a roadway. "We've gotta keep
going."
     "You're going to kill yourself," Mousse protested.
     "I'd rather die than allow Cologne to win!" Ranma seethed. Somehow
Mousse knew that the only reason Ranma's teeth weren't chattering was
because they were clenched. "I'm your sensei. Don't tell me what to do.
I don't have time to waste. It's all changing. Everything is. I don't
have time to let it get ahead. We keep moving."
     Confused by Ranma's words, Mousse tried to ask Ranma what he had
meant, but Ranma was already stumbling through the rain. Racing forward
as fast as he could without getting wet, Mousse fell in step with Ranma.
In this fashion, they continued through the pouring rain, making their
way down to the valley and the highway that ran through it. It was early
morning as they crossed the last stretch of field that separated them
from the asphalt serpent that wound through the mountainous terrain.
     In the dim light of the storm, Mousse watched Ranma stumble along,
her steps dragging as they crossed the last hundred meters to the
highway. Once there, Ranma simply collapsed against the base of a sign
and closed her eyes, the rain lashing across her soaked body. Her hair
was plastered against her face. Her breathing was more ragged, and she
was coughing more frequently. Though he was not a healer, Mousse knew
Ranma was in desperate need of medical attention. A warm hospice and a
few days rest would also help, but Mousse would have settled for
medicine at that point in the game.
     From the highway, the whine of car engines grew and diminished as
they sped past the two travelers. In the passing headlights, Mousse was
able to get a better look at Ranma, but he didn't approach too close.
Ranma appeared to be sleeping when Mousse finally inched his way toward
his sensei. Ranma's breathing was less ragged as she slept. Her face,
however, was flushed, and she was shivering. Despite all this, she
looked much better than when she had been walking down the road. Pulling
out a extra umbrella, Mousse popped it open and stabbed the handle into
the muddy earth, covering Ranma so she wouldn't be in direct contact
with the cold rain any more than she already had. 
     As he settled back under his own umbrella, a large semi rolled by
and Ranma's eyes snapped open. For abrief  moment, Mousse saw a confused
look in her eyes, but soon she focused on him. "Find a flat bed truck,"
she said in a rough voice, coughing as she spoke. "Oyaji and I used to
jump on them to get from place to place when we were in a hurry."
     "I'll find one."
     Ranma nodded. "Make sure it's going south."
     Throwing an indignant glare at Ranma, Mousse found his sensei's
eyes already closing. Shaking his head, he turned back to the highway.
They were next to a bend in the highway after a mile long stretch of
level, straight roadway. The rain was beginning to let up, the thunder
and lightning moving off to the southwest. This increased the
visibility, and Mousse was able to make out the dim shapes of trucks and
cars up to half a mile away. Although they were still blurs because of
his vision problems, his hearing was good enough to detect the
difference between the rumbling diesel of a heavy truck and the higher
pitched whine of the smaller, gasoline engines in cars. 
     Despite this, there were several close calls where he almost woke
Ranma to jump on the back of a semi-trailer, but he didn't. Eventually,
his patience bore fruit as he saw a semi-tractor pulling a flat bed,
loaded with the concrete piping used for large city sewer systems,
coming down the road. It was the perfect ride. 
     Shaking Ranma awake, he pointed at the fast approaching truck.
Ranma nodded her acceptance and wearily pulled herself to feet. She
stumbled a few times, ineffectually trying to find her balance. The
truck continued to move closer. Watching Ranma struggle, Mousse knew
they were going to miss the truck if he didn't do something. As the
truck began to barrel past them, Mousse grabbed Ranma and leapt with her
in his arms onto the flat bed. 
     Ranma let out a surprised shriek as they flew through the air, but
by then Mousse was laying her down against one of the sloping walls of a
concrete section of pipe. Looking into Ranma's grey-blue eyes, Mousse
was surprised to find gratitude instead of the anger he had expected.
Unconsciously, he turned his head away in surprise. "Thanks, Mousse,"
Ranma whispered. "I was afraid I wasn't going to make it." 
     "No problem, it's what friends are for." But if Ranma heard him,
Mousse was never sure because as he turned to look at his friend and
teacher, he found her curled up into a ball, her breathing shallow yet
regular as she slept.
     Shaking his head ruefully, Mousse slipped his backpack off and lay
back against the concrete pipe, watching the rain sheet outside the
pipe. Some of it was blowing into the pipe because of the wind dipping
into each end of the pipe. Mousse had to huddle near the center to make
sure he didn't get wet. 
     Pulling his knees against his chest, he waited as the truck sped
down the road. It wasn't hard to lose track of the time. His thoughts
turned to Ranma again and again as if they were a new born babe
constantly drawing attention. Ranma was in trouble, that fact was
crystal clear. At first, Mousse had only considered it the turmoil
within Ranma. Every moment it seemed that Ranma was slowly losing his
grip on his sanity. 
     It was not evident in everything he did, but Mousse saw it from
time to time. Over their nightly fires, he saw a dangerous gleam within
Ranma's eyes that made him shiver. Some nights, unable to sleep, he
heard the horrified mutters Ranma whispered as he twisted in the throes
of nightmares. It was there in the morning as Ranma moved about the camp
as if he wanted nothing else than to slip back into his bed and never
move from it. 
     Mousse understood a part of it. Ranma had been changed. In a
matter of two weeks, his life had become a nightmare. He had been faced
with his own destruction. No other human had ever faced such an ordeal.
Death was small compared to Ranma's endured horrors. Horrors beyond
which Hades could create walked with Ranma as if he was their closest
friend. Mousse knew they were there, saw the pain and consuming hatred
burning underneath the granite exterior Ranma had pulled himself within.
Within his heart, Ranma had locked a secret that he didn't even wish to
look at, but was forced to relive every night. Mousse was surprised
Ranma kept his sanity under the hydraulic press of his problems.
     Now it was only getting worse. Mousse had felt the burning heat
radiating from Ranma's body when he had carried Ranma onto the truck. If
it had been himself, he would have sought shelter and rest, yet Ranma
continued to push on with the mindless tenacity of an ant. Ranma was no
longer concerned about himself. His goals were surpassing his own life
in importance. It was as if he had become a programmed machine, only
intent on the ends. There was little doubt that Ranma would achieve his
goal, but each day it seemed that his life was going to be the cost of
that victory.
     "No!"
     Mousse's head snapped up at the scream of anguished denial. Across
the pipe, Ranma was huddled tightly around her pack, her body shuddering
as she thrashed in her fevered sleep. Hesitantly, Mousse took a step
forward, reaching out to wake Ranma. His hand touched her cheek, the
sweat-soaked skin burning like fire under his fingers. 
     At his touch, Ranma's eyes flew open, a strangled cry flying from
the young girl's throat. Blank orbs regarded Mousse and then flamed with
hatred. "Give her back!" Ranma's body flared into life as his aura
spread about him in a glowing blue-white that began to swirl and then
coalesce around the pouch that Mousse knew held the Statue of Boukyaku.
For a moment, the energy turned angrily around the pouch before it
collapsed inward and disappeared like water slipping down a drain. 
     Leaning forward in surprise and confusion, Mousse had only a
moment's warning. A flicker of energy rolled from the pouch and across
Ranma's clenched fist. Rolling to the side he felt the rush of heat fly
past him and strike the concrete pipe, ripping a head-sized hole in the
four inch thick concrete. Dimly, Mousse could hear the attack rip
through a dozen more pipes, and then there was a high pitched twang just
as the squeal of brakes filled his ears. Lifting himself from the floor,
Mousse saw Ranma stagger forward and then collapse against the hole she
had made. Hairline cracks extended from the breach, but the structure
seemed to be intact.
     Stunned by the occurrence of the past few seconds, Mousse was
unprepared as the truck came to a halt, sending him rolling into the
pipe. As he hit the wall, he felt the whole pipe shift and then begin to
move backwards. He heard the loud rumble that told him several other
pipes were beginning to move against each other. Several snaps, sounding
like a crossbow firing, echoed around him, and then his world was moving
as the pipes began to roll. Mousse understood what had happened. The
restraining cables had been snapped by Ranma's attack and the resulting
shifting of the heavy concrete.
     Reacting quickly, Mousse rolled to his feet and grabbed their
packs and then Ranma as he rushed for the nearest end of the pipe. The
pipe was unsteady under his feet, rolling slowly at first then gaining
speed. From outside he could hear one pipe smash into the roadway and
then another. Unaware of how many pipes stood between them and a
disasterous end, Mousse took a gamble and leapt for the open end of the
pipe. Then it began to tilt, the pipe falling from the flat bed. As the
spot he was aiming for slowly disappeared, he had the sinking feeling
that they were not going to make it, but then he was outside, the pipe
rushing past his feet and slamming into the paved road and another pipe.
     He heard a deafening crash followed by a reverberating crack as
the pipe hit and split asunder and was sent sprawling across the
highway. He heard the squeal of breaks and the crunch of a car hitting
something, but he never looked back. A light drizzle of rain surrounded
him, slowly soaking him. This fact was more important to him than the
damage Ranma's fevered dreams had wrought. He had to hurry before his
curse activated. He had to find a safe place.
     Behind him he heard the hoarse shout of the driver, demanding him
to stop, but Mousse ran on relentlessly. He scampered like a fleeing
deer up the rocky slope that ran beside the highway. Slipping into the
thin cover of evergreens, Mousse hoped it was enough to keep the rain
off of him until they found a place to rest and recuperate. 
     In his mad dash through the evergreens, it was only luck that
showed him the small dirt path. A blast of wind shook a small grove of
trees he was running through, sending a shower of water cascading down
toward him. He leapt out of the way at the last minute to land on some
packed dirt. With his heart beating in fear, it took him a moment to
bring himself back into reality. When he did, he noticed the winding
path he was standing on, a path that obviously led somewhere. It was too
wide and straight for an animal trail. 
     The rain was no longer falling, and Mousse took the brief respite
to readjust the packs on his back. Once finished, he lifted Ranma from
the wet ground and cradled her small form in his arms as he began to
sprint along the trail. Ranma slept on despite the rough up and downs of
the path that caused Mousse to stumble several times, barely missing a
disaster with a wet landing. Yet, despite not waking, Ranma still
continued to mutter under her breath, her voice low and dangerous,
pleading and screaming at some unknown personage. To worsen matters, she
was getting sicker by the moment. Her shivers were violent, and Mousse
could feel the heat of her body radiating even through his robes.
Worried, as if Ranma were his dying lover, Mousse sought the end of the
path, hurrying his steps.
     For once that day, luck was with him. The path ended in front of a
gathering of small buildings, a temple, Mousse assumed, from the ornate
wood gates and the multiple roofed, peaked building that occupied the
center of the cluster. A crack of thunder, cut short his relief though.
Moving quickly, he raced towards the nearest building, a dojo-type
structure that he slipped inside with ease. 
     Inside he found an empty dojo and an empty alcove from which, he
assumed, guests were encouraged to observe classes. Ignoring the
multitude of weapons and scrolls decorating the dark, wooden walls,
Mousse hurried over to the alcove and laid Ranma down on the floor as he
went in search of a few mats for them to rest on. He found them after a
brief search and dragged back the woven mats and spread them across the
alcove. 
     Moving over to Ranma, Mousse started to carry her over to the mats
when he realized that her clothes were still soaked. He knew that
allowing Ranma to sleep in clothes soaked with cold rain was not going
to help matters. Letting his hands fall from Ranma, Mousse grabbed her
pack and quickly searched through it, finally pulling out Ranma's green
Chinese shirt and cap.
     Returning to Ranma's side, he undressed her and dressed her in the
dry, clean clothes before he finally placed her on the mat.  With this
done, Mousse wandered over to the mat he had brought over for himself.
Though it was still only mid-morning, Mousse was exhausted from his
flight through the forest. He had done it at a full-sprint and was
unused to that level of exertion. With the combination of their rigorous
training over the past few weeks and the harrowing morning, Mousse could
do nothing as his eyes slipped closed and he curled up on the mat. 
     It felt like only seconds had passed, but it could have been hours
later, when Mousse was roughly awoken by a heavy hand. "Who are you?" a
deep voice demanded menacingly. "What are you doing here?" 
     Blinking his eyes and trying to make out the blur that was
hovering in front of his face, Mousse tried to answer but was cut off by
another voice.
     "Better tell Gankogyu, Keichi. The First Disciple always wants to
know in these matters." 
     There was an affirmative grunt from the man holding him by the
shoulders. "Go tell him we have trespassers in the dojo." There was the
sound of steps and then the sliding of a shoji as it opened and closed.  
Instead of dwelling on Gankogyu, or whatever his name was, Mousse turned
his attention to his captor. He recognized the skill in the grip that
held him, but he could easily defeat the man; however, he also knew that
Ranma was still sleeping beside him. There was nothing he could do
except wait and see what happened.



                             -- 3 --


 
     Waking from his troubled dreams, Ryouga rolled from his bed and
quickly began to pack. The cave had grown cold, the fire he had built
the previous evening shedding only a little of its dying heat. Outside
he could hear the rain still falling through the trees with a slithering
patter. Ryouga could tell that it was a bearable rain, one he could
protect himself from. For that he was thankful. One moment lost was one
too many in his pursuit of Ranma.
     Gathering his things, he left the cave and walked into the rocky
landscape, slowly making his way downhill. He didn't think or pay
attention to where his steps led. He knew it was futile to do such a
thing. He only hoped that his sense of direction sooner or later led him
to China.
     He walked for hours, leaving the rocky hills behind and traveling
through a small town that butted against the endless sea. The day
remained overcast, burdening him with thoughts as melancholy as the
cold, unseasonable weather. Though he harboured his hatred for Ranma as
if it were a small boat, he could only find an emptiness within him that
constantly spoke Akane's name.
     Images of her filled his mind, both charming and painful. He saw
her smile, heard her laugh, and relived her anger against Ranma. One,
however, was always there, her tear-streaked face as she cried over the
loss of Ranma. Somehow, he knew that those tears held a meaning more
devastating than her own fear, a meaning that did not bode well for his
own chances. Even if Ranma had rejected her, she had given her heart to
him, her body to him. Even if she realized Ranma's betrayal, Ryouga knew
there would never be a place within her heart like Ranma's for himself. 
     The knowledge that Akane could never love him as she loved Ranma,
had loved Ranma, was a stone that he bore upon his back, its ponderous
weight crushing down upon him. The flame of his hopes was slowly snuffed
by the weight until there remained only the cold hatred and emptiness of
the previous night and the many nights before that. The fire he warmed
himself with at night was no longer of flame and wood but of the burning
thoughts of revenge on Ranma. 
     In one final act, Ranma had ripped apart his life, destroyed every
chance he had ever had at happiness. To add insult to injury, he had
ruined Akane's life in his pursuit of his personal pleasures. That would
not last. As the wrath of God had been meted out on Sodom, so too would
Ryouga unloose his righteous punishment upon Ranma.
     These dark thoughts, like storm clouds, boiled and grew within his
mind as the day darkened to evening and Ryouga finally allowed himself
to find a place to set up his camp. The sea was no longer within sight
and even the air held none of the salty tang. It didn't matter. Sooner
or later, he'd find China and a storm would be unleashed upon Ranma the
likes of which even God had never seen. 
     Ryouga smiled at the thought. He wanted his life back, the one
Ranma had taken. It was easy to comfort himself with thoughts of his
eventual victory. So he sat, huddled by his meager fire, nibbling upon
his bland rations as the sky above him cleared and the pregnant moon
appeared within the star-filled, night sky. 
     A warm breeze, pushing away the lingering chill of the day,
brushed past him and soothed him like a mother's lullaby. Soon his eyes
were heavy-lidded and he could barely keep himself awake. It was almost
peaceful for him. It was a moment of calm from the turmoil that broiled
within him, but it was not to last. 
     The sound of a twig snapping brought his eyes fully open,
searching the night for the intruder. He saw the shadow almost
instantly. Whoever it was was not even trying to hide himself, walking
towards the camp at a steady pace. Ryouga had a funny feeling in his
stomach. "Who's there?" he called out.
     "Ryouga?"
     The voice numbed his mind. He recognized it, and it made him
wonder if he had somehow wandered back to Nerima without his knowing.
His eyes, however, winded in surprise as the dark shadow steeped into
the flickering light, illuminating her outfit and hair. "What are you
doing here?" he asked in surprise.
     "I could ask the same of you," she said and laughed lightly as she
came to sit by the fire and a very quiet Ryouga.




                             -- 4 --


 
     The village disappeared behind a stand of evergrens as the road
curved north towards the sea coast. Ukyou didn't mind. The village had
already given her the information she needed, sent her on the next leg
of her journey. It was getting easier. Ranma seemed to be stopping in a
lot of the villages, and leaving an impression. She had been surprised
when she had discovered that he was traveling with another young man. At
first she had assumed it was Ryouga, but continuous descriptions gave a
clear and surprising picture of Mousse. 
     The previous village had confirmed all of this and more, informing
her that she was only two days behind the wandering pair. That was a
relief to her. It meant she was gaining. 
     After leaving her shop two weeks ago, Ukyou had begun her journey
with a simple search for information. There were only so many ways Ranma
could get to China, air or water. If he had stowed away on a boat, she
knew it would be like searching for a grain of barley in a bushel of
rice. She doubted he would. A ship took a decent amount of time to reach
China, especially when it sailed from Tokyo. Besides, an airplane could
drop him nearly anywhere within China, whereas a ship only had a very
finite amount of safe ports. Deducing this, she tried the airport first.
     Information is easy to obtain when one has enough money. Ukyou had
learned that lesson well from Nabiki. A few thousand yen gave her access
to the flight records and passenger lists of all the flights that had
left the airport in the last week. To her dismay, she had found no trace
of Ranma. For a moment, she considered that Ranma had changed his name,
but she doubted it. Ranma was never one to take such a devious approach.
Although Ukyou considered her Ranma far from dumb, she understood who he
was, what his limitations were, and how he thought.
     No, he hadn't left Japan from Tokyo. He was somewhere in Japan,
but where he was now became the operative question. She only knew that
he was trying to get to China. She assumed he was going by air, since it
was faster, but from where? Or could he be deceiving everyone and simply
hiding out somewhere around Tokyo? It was a possibility, and Ukyou
decided that maybe Ranma was simply searching for an answer and desired
to be alone. So she set out into the wilderness, looking for all of the
training camps Ranma had used over the time she had known him.
     A few days of traveling and searching brought hopes of finding
Ranma crumbling. She had found no trace of him. It was as if he had
disappeared off the face of the earth. She decided that trying to find
Ranma was like having a blind man track a hawk. To find him, she had to
think like him and beat him to his objective. 
     So she had struck out to the west. If Ranma was going to leave
Japan, he'd choose the nearest port to China so he could afford it.
Knowing Ranma, she assumed that was somewhere near Hiroshima or on
Kyuushuu. That did not mean that he might have left from some other port
of call, so Ukyou headed to the northern end of Honshu and traveled down
the costal areas, searching for any clue about Ranma. She found her
first clue ten days after leaving Tokyo. In a small village in northern
Kyoto, she was forced to spend the night by a sudden rain storm. At the
local boarding house, she spent most of her evening in the small common
room, listening to the villagers talk with her. They rarely got
visitors, and they had been excited by her appearance so soon after two
others had left. Intrigued, Ukyou pursued the matter of the previous
visitors and discovered that someone resembling Ranma and another man
had entered the village three days ago and went and talked to a martial
arts master who lived in the town. They had only stayed a few hours
before leaving but it did give her hope.
     That had been two days ago. Now she was only two days behind them,
but she was running out of places to look. They were moving very fast
and they didn't always stop at villages. The trail sometimes disappeared
after only a few hours of hitchhiking and walking. It was obvious that
Ranma was seeking other places, but Ukyou knew very little about this
part of Japan. She had traveled through it in her search for Ranma, but
she hadn't been looking for training grounds, which Ranma seemed to be
doing.  She was moving on faith at this point, and the hints she had
gleaned from the last village.
     They were traveling steadily west, that was definite, but she
didn't know their final destination yet. The only other clue had been
dropped by one of the students at the village's dojo. He had spoken of
them saying they wanted to head south and then west toward Hiroshima
Prefecture. Ukyou couldn't think of any reason for Ranma to go to
Hiroshima except the airport that was located there. After that there
was only Ube before he'd have to cross the bridge into Kyuushuu to find
another airport. It was possible that Hiroshima was his final
destination, or at least a way point. 
     Deciding that it was her best chance, she struck out along the
dirt road that led up into the mountains. She knew there was a highway
running somewhere near this village, but she had to find it before she
could hitch a ride.
     For most of the day, she walked, following dozens of roads, but
none of them led anywhere but to places she didn't want to go. To worsen
her situation, the rain storm from the previous night had returned and
was steadily showering her with a light mist of stinging rain. The only
thing she could be thankful for was that she didn't have a curse like
the others.
     It was nearing evening when she finally found another village.
Wet, cold, and miserable, she walked towards the village, wondering how
she had gained Ryouga's sense of direction. Once in the village she
searched through the small houses until she found a man sitting in his
garden watching the western sky, even though the sun was obscured by
thick, dark clouds. Walking up to the older man, she politely asked for
directions to the nearest highway. To her relief, he told her that if
she followed the road she was on for a few more miles, it would
intersect the main highway that ran south through Kameoka and finally
reached Kobe.
     Thanking him profusely, she set out, hoping to reach the highway
before it became too dark to see. The weather, however, was not
cooperating, and it soon became too dark for her to trust her footing on
the uneven road. Instead, she began to search the surrounding woods for
a place to set up her camp. It was this way that she noticed the
flickering, yellow light of a fire glowing part way up one of the hills
running beside the road.
     Though she didn't know who was at the fire, Ukyou had been on the
road without companionship for nearly two weeks, besides the one or two
nights she had spent at boarding houses, and she was actually missing
the constant contact she had been given in Nerima. And, even if the
person was dangerrous, she knew that she could take of herself. She was
one of the best martial artists in Nerima, and that counted for a lot in
the way of skill.
     Having decided, she moved up the hill, trying to make as little
noise as possible. It was a longer climb than she expected, and she was
winded by the time she reached the level clearing where the fire was
burning. She was relieved to see that only one person was occupying the
camping pace; however, his back was to her so she couldn't see his face.
There was something familiar about him though. The set of his shoulders
and the pack next to him was very familiar. Then she saw the umbrella
and nearly gasped out loud. 
     Feeling uch safer than before, she took a step forward. A twig
snapped under her feet, and the man spun around, searching the darkness
where she was hidden. Walking boldly, not even worried about hiding her
presence, Ukyou made her way to the camp.
     "Who's there?" a familiar voice demanded.
     Although she had assumed it was him, the voice put her remaining
doubts to rest, and she called back tentatively, "Ryouga?"
     She stepped out into the clearing, and his eyes bulged out. "What
are you doing here?" he spluttered.
     "I could ask the same of you," Ukyou said and then laughed lightly
as she joined the stunned Ryouga by his fire.



                             -- 5 --


 
     Angry voices pierced his fever-driven nightmares, slowly bringing
him to a groggy wakefulness. From his side, he heard quiet words spoken.
He believed the voice belonged to Mousse, but he was unsure. The deep,
demanding and angry voice that answered, however, was unfamiliar to him.
He couldbn't clarify them either as the voices remained muffled to his
ears. Struggling, he attempted to open his eyes, but found them to be
unresponsive weights.
     His body was trying to tell him to sleep. His mouth felt like it
was filled with moldy cotton, and tasted about the same. His head
throbbed in synchronization with his heart.  He wanted nothing more than
to obey his body and slip into slumber, even if he would have to face
the dreams again, but a sudden outburst from both voices at once
provoked him into action.
     Forcing his eyes open a crack, he tried to lean forward and then
fell backwards with a soft, feminine groan as a wave of nausea rose
within his stomach. Snapping his eyes closed again, he tried to banish
the spinning maelstrom his sight had become. 
     "Ah, I see your 'sensei' is finally awake." Though the words were
muffled, Ranma heard the condescending tone and the insult directed both
at him and whoever else was involved in the conversation.
     Ranma felt a hand touch his shoulder, nudging him gently. "Are you
okay, Ranma?" Mousse asked. His quiet voice held a small measure of
worry to Ranma's ear.
     In truth, Mousse had been watching Ranma with a half-eye the
entire afternoon. She had slept through their discovery and the nearly
four hour wait while the First Disciple of the dojo had been informed
and finally decided to deal with the trespassers. Of course he was not
about to wake her of his own volition. He wanted Ranma to recover, and a
fight or even too much activity would end up being more detrimental than
helpful to his situation. 
     His decision had been justified upon the arrival of the First
Disciple. He was an arrogant and pompous man. Mousse knew the type. He
was a man whose own insecurities required him to prove his power every
moment of the day, and Ranma and himself had offered him the target of
the day. From the heated words that had already been exchanged between
himself and Gankogyu, Mousse knew that Ranma would not take much before
retaliating.
     Mousse allowed little of this to enter his voice. His concern was
that of a friend. In his own way, he had come to care for Ranma as both
a friend and teacher. He hated seeing him like this. Therefore, he was
pleased when Ranma nodded his head and opened his eyes again. 
     Ranma was not so sure if it was a good idea to open his eyes. The
world stayed in focus this time, but he still felt as if he was going to
be violently sick. Despite this, he slowly scanned the room with lidded-
eyes. The place was a dojo. The wide, wooden floor with the high center
beam and the weapons along the polished, wooden walls left little doubt.
The dojo was full of students. Most wore a white gi, but a few wore the
brown robes of monks. Ranma had a feeling of deja-vous, as if he had
been here before. 
     Every eye was on him and Mousse, who knelt beside Ranma. In front
of them stood three men. One wore a sensei's dogi, a thrice-tipped
black-belt around his waist. The other two wore the traditional kendo
garb Ranma had come to expect on Kunou.
     It took only a moment for Ranma to observe this before he forced
his fuzzy thoughts and sight to focus on the center man, who was
speaking. "So your girlfriend has awakened."
     "I'm not a..." Ranma began to shout, but then abruptly changed his
course as Mousse nudged him slightly, the placement of his elbow
indicating what gender she was, "his girlfriend!"
     The center man smirked at the comment. Ranma waited for a moment,
expecting a rebuttal, but none came. 
     Watching the center man, Ranma discovered that most of her nausea
dissipated because of the lack of movement, leaving her only with a
slightly queasy feeling. Being able to concentrate with more ease
because of the diminished nausea, Ranma kept her weary gaze focused on
the man and assessed him. He was tall, standing nearly thirteen
centimeters higher than she herself would have stood in her male form.
His hair was black and caught in a top knot which hung behind his broad
shoulders. Ranma knew strength when she saw it. Though she was doubtful
the man could've compared to Ryouga, he was obviously stronger than her.
His face was hard, dangerous crags and lines that gave him a perpetual
scowl. His obsidian eyes were narrowed in a speculative and insulting
look, intended for both Ranma and Mousse. The tattoo of a black spider
decorated the man's neck, and Ranma saw the matching one on the hilt of
the katana held by the belt indicating his rank. As with the dojo, Ranma
knew she should know this man, but just like with Ryouga in their first
meeting, she could place neither face nor a name to him.
     "So you were telling the truth, little man," the man said. The
voice startled Ranma slightly. She had been caught up in trying to keep
her sickness at bay. The silence had made it appear that minutes had
passed, but it was obviously only a few seconds that had slipped away.
"At least about one thing."
     "I don't lie," Mousse stated in an even tone. He was giving his
best at defusing the situation, but he intuitively knew that a fight was
being brewed with each word that was spoken.
     "You still maintain this scrap of a girl is your sensei?" The man
barked a short laugh. "Look at her. Barely old enough to be on her own.
She's more curves than muscle. She's probably never even been with a
man, and you think she can teach the Arts. Or is it that you are
humouring her till you can claim that unplucked blossom, ne, little
man?"
     The words stung Mousse, but they infuriated Ranma. Burning in
rage, Ranma tried to push herself to her feet, but only collapsed
backwards as the room began to spin and dim around her. Tightly closing
her eyes, she tried to find some sort of calm within the war raging
between her emotions and sickness. She wanted to kill that bastard. No
one talked to her like that.
     Gankogyu's derisive laughter filled the room, adding more coal to
the fire. "Can't even stand on her own two feet. Do you really think
Onna-sensei can do anything for you? She's as helpless as a new born
babe. She's a joke, like you, little man." 
     Mousse ground his teeth in frustration. He thought he could take
the braggart, but he was unsure if it was the right thing to do. There
were at least a dozen other members of the school in the room, but
Mousse did notice that some were shuffling nervously as their sensei's
speech became more insulting. He waited and listened, looking for an
opening. 
     "You think that you can walk into our dojo and use it for your own
refuge? Then, you lie to me, Gankogyu, the First Disciple of the Sansui- 
 fu School." Ranma knew that name. He just wished he could remember from
where. "Why don't we fight and see how good a sensei Onna-sensei is? Or,
I could just let you and the girl skulk away like beaten dogs." This
time a murmur ran through the gathered students, but a stern glare and a
barely perceptible motion towards their katanas from the two kendoists
next to Gankogyu silenced all. 
     Ranma felt Mousse move, the sharp intake of his breath giving him
away. Though her eyes were closed, she could feel him next to her. Her
arm lashed out like a snake and latched onto his shoulder, pushing him
back to the floor by pressing into a nerve bundle.
     "Ranma," Mousse whispered demandingly, his voice hiding the pain
of her hold well. He had held off on fighting the man because of the
ramifications, but by asking for a duel, any reservation that had held
Mousse in check was brushed aside like lint from a shirt.
     "I see your lover wants you to stay healthy," Gankogyu stated.
Ranma could hear the lecherous smirk in his voice, and it only built the
pyre within which her restraint was being consumed. "I knew that Onna-  
sensei was as much a tale as the ones you've already spun, little man.
How does it feel to be a liar and a failure hiding behind the kimono of
a mouse? Or do you just enjoy riding your wild mare?" Despite their
earlier muttering, a roar of laughter from the assembled students
greeted this comment, and Ranma snapped.
     Ignoring the nausea, the pounding of her heart,and the heat
rushing through her body like a ravenous demon, she pushed herself to
her feet, using Mousse's shoulder as a support. Gaining her feet, she
tried to steady herself, but her knees felt as if they were jelly. 
     "What's this? Is Onna-sensei going to challenge me? Maybe I should
run from her?" Another wave of laughter met the remark, although this
one was less sure. Many of the students noticed the unsteady way Ranma
stood and the heaviness of her step. Compared to the prime health of
Gankogyu, this scrap of a girl looked like a fawn thrown to a ravenous
dog. This fawn, however, had an iron will. 
     Ranma ground her teeth in frustration. Opening her eyes, she
swallowed a rising wave of bile and grimly focused on her target.
     His head was thrown back, his mouth open in laughter. She wanted
her fist in that face. Taking a step forward, the room spun around her,
black spots swimming before her eyes. "Ranma, don't do this," Mousse
begged as he climbed to his own feet. "Let me handle this. You're sick." 
     Motioning him back, Ranma settled into a defensive position, and
grasping her anger and training in two hands, she pushed the nausea
down, forcing it away from her. It was difficult, but she was able to
take another step without swaying. "I would seriously suggest that you
start running and never stop," Ranma threatened between clenched teeth. 
     "What're you going to do?" Gankogyu demanded.
     Ranma struck quickly, so fast that even Mousse had trouble
following what happened. One moment she was a statue. The next, her form
blurred as she slid forward and connected four times with Gankogyu's
upper body. Ranma felt the strength of muscle under her fists and the
weight of his body, but he was off-balance and Ranma was no amateur.
Despite her form and sickness, Ranma sent Gankogyu flying backwards into
his students, knocking some of them down and sending the others
scampering out of the way. Many had their eyes fixed on Ranma, their
gazes somewhere between awe and fear. 
     The attack, however, hadn't left Ranma unscathed. As she halted,
the world titled upside down, and she almost fell to the floor. Mousse
was beside her in an instant and kept her from falling. 
     "This is stupid, Ranma!' Mousse whispered into her ear. "You're
gonna get yourself killed over a few words." He saw the two kendoists
watching them with alert eyes that flickered back and forth between
Ranma and Gankogyu, who was pulling himself from out of a tangle of
bodies. "And if he doesn't get you, there are several others who will."
     As she straightened herself, Ranma hissed, "Stay outta this!" She
could see her peripheral vision going dark and fuzzy. She had to finish
this quickly, but as she saw Gankogyu settle into a stance, she knew it
wasn't going to hapen. Despite his bravado, Ranma knew experience when
she saw it. Though no where near her par, the First Disciple was still
talented enough to wipe the floor with her in this state. For a moment
she wished she could find the confidence and inner strength to finish it
in one blow, but that was impossible.
     She needed a plan, but none had presented itself by the time
Gankogyu attacked. Pushing Mousse away, Ranma barely dodged the blow.
Turning quickly, she lashed out with four solid blows before her
disorientation and fever caught up with her. The room spun and a solid
blow connected with her stomach, sending her reeling back into the wall.
Mousse cried out in shock, and several of the students voiced their
approval. 
     Ranma didn't notice. Her stomach rebelled, and her mouth filled
with acidic bile. Gagging, Ranma tried to swallow most of it, but some
still dribbled from her lips to stain her shirt. The entire experience
left her feeling empty, and her throat and mouth burned from the contact
with her bile.
     Ranma wanted nothing more than to stay down and let the darkness
take her, but her pride forced her to her feet, forced her to ignore the
spinning room and concentrate on her opponent. Dimly, she heard Mousse
screaming at Gankogyu to let the match die, that she was sick. Then he
was begging her to let him fight. She understood why Mousse wanted to
interfere, but that was not an option. She had informed him several
times what the consequences would be if he ever interfered in one of her
matches. And though she would have liked the help, she was not about to
call out to him. This was her fight.
     Her heart was hammering in her chest like that of a terrified
rabbit as she stood there, darkness threatening to take her from the
inside. She was exhausted. Her body was burning. It was through supreme
effort that she found a stance and waited. She saw him across the room.
He began to move, and time slowed to a crawl as Ranma waited for the
inevitable. There was only one chance, and she was going to take it. As
he neared, he moved upwards to come down on her like water from a
mountain, but Ranma knew this style. She knew the faults and the
openings. This was one. 
     She struck quickly, her arm darting beneath his upraised hands and
into his abdomen. He crashed to the floor beside her as she collapsed to
her knees. Mousse rushed to her side, but she pushed him away slightly.
She barely moved him, a testament to how weak she was. She struggled to
regain her feet, but it was as if she was trapped beneath a rising tide.
Though she had struck him, she knew the strike hadn't been a defeating
one. She had misjudged his strength. His muscles had been too tense to
make it a disabling blow. 
     Struggling against the darkness, she opened her eyes, unwilling to
face defeat like a coward. Bravely, she waited for the finishing blow,
but it never came. An elderly voice snapped a command like a whip.
Through a blurring haze, she watched Gankogyu freeze as he stood up, his
arm poised for the final strike. Students parted like the Red Sea, and a
grandfatherly figure, bent under age, appeared from amongst them. As she
saw him, Ranma's mind made all of the connections. "Masaka," she
breathed in disbelief as the darkness claimed her.


                             -- 6 --


     For the first time in the last four days, the fickle sun had
deigned to shed its life giving light upon the cold ground and warm the
isles of Nihon. Birds greeted the sun with their fanfares of chirping
song as below the sun sparkled on the Sea of Japan. The few small, dark
dots of fishing boats that some villagers vainly tried to eke a living
from were slowly moving upon the waves. Every so often a warm breeze
from the sea brought the smell of brine and the even more delectable
smell of cooking which indicated civilization. 
     Of course it was a civilization on the wrong side of the island,
and that fact was dimming the bright morning for Ukyou. She had made the
mistake of allowing Ryouga to lead them through the forest before first
light. Exiting the sparse tree cover on the mountain slope, they found
themselves staring down at a sea, the sun unmistakably rising on their
right. Her left hand quickly found the backside of Ryouga's head.
     Too angry to even trust herself with words, she grabbed Ryouga's
arm and began to drag him along the cliff edge. Actually, she was more
than annoyed with Ryouga. At first the thought of being with someone she
knew was more than comforting, but the more she thought about it, the
more she realized that Ryouga was just going to make things worse.
     Stepping around a boulder she found a small path that wound down
the sloping cliff like a child's Crayola art along a wall. It wasn't
pretty, but she had no other choice than following it to get down. Of
course she had Ryouga to thank for that too. Trusting him to lead her
anywhere was as bad as sending Ghengis Khan to pick flowers. No, she
decided, Ghengis Khan had a better chance at picking flowers than Ryouga
did at finding his way out of a closet.
     "Hey, Ukyou!" Ryouga called out. "Slow down, or you're gonna get
us hurt."
     "Now you decide to talk," Ukyou growled. She had every right to be
upset. Since they had risen, Ryouga had only offered an automatic ohayoo
and then nothing else, despite her repeated attempts to engage him in
conversation throughout the early morning. She did, however, heed him
and slowed her pace accordingly as she began to pick her way gingerly
down the steep incline.
     "What's that supposed to mean?" Ryouga asked from behind Ukyou.
     Gritting her teeth, Ukyou stopped her downward progress and closed
her eyes. Like Ranma, Ryouga could be as dense as a stump at any given
time, but unlike Ukyou's fiancee, Ryouga was simply oblivious to the
world around him where Ranma was stubborn to the point of stupidity. 
     She had spoken to him of what had brought her to this mountain
range in central Kyoto-fu. She had told him about how Ranma had left and
even about the promises that had been exchanged for his release from the
Curse of Boukyaku. Her words had blanketed her entire search from
learning of Ranma's disappearance to the news that she was only a few
days behind him. 
     For the first time in two weeks, she had finally had someone to
talk with who could understand what brought her out into Japan alone.
She had thought he'd be sympathetic. At first, it had seemed that way.
As she began her tale, Ryouga had watched her with eager eyes, the
flickering light of the flame dancing across his face and gleaming from
the two tiny fangs that showed in his soft smile. The moment she had
mentioned Ranma, however, his eyes had flashed and he'd turn to the
fire, contemplating it with the scrutiny of a Zen master. For the rest
of the night, she'd been unable to take his eyes from the flames, and in
the end, she had retreated to her own sleeping roll, too tired to even
argue with the Lost Boy.
     In all fairness, she had every right to be angry with him. She had
every right to turn on him and scream at him for his inconsiderate ways,
but she could not bring herself to do that. In her life, there had been
too many times when she had been alone, even though her family
surrounded her. She was the outsider. Even in Nerima, Ranma was her only
true companion. Her restaurant took away any chance of a social life. 
     Truthfully, every one who entered her life was transient. Ranma
had left when she was a child. Her family had been like a picture on the
wall, only faces she saw when she walked within the house. In Nerima,
she'd found a semblance of being loved. She relished those small moments
when someone would talk with her, just to be with her. It didn't matter
whether it was a customer, Konatsu, or Ranma. She craved that reminder
that she was a human being and not some decorative doll. She was someone
with feelings. The last two weeks on the road had stripped her of that.
She'd been alone again. Even the brief contact with villagers had rarely
dragged her from her isolation, but then she'd stumbled across Ryouga.
Here was someone she could relate to. Ryouga had been a part of her life
for the last year or so. For a moment the dark shade of loneliness
slipped from her heart and she was ecstatic, but he'd ignored her.
Ignored her! 
     Yet, if she screamed at him, denounced him, he would just leave
her. Even if it was Ryouga, she wanted some companionship. She was tired
of being alone and told him so.
     "Don't you ever just want to talk to someone, Ryouga?" Ukyou
asked. A warm salt breeze rustled through her hair and tantalized her
nose with its tangy scent of salt and fish. "To just ask them if they'll
listen to your problems and say it's alright? To know someone cared for
you for just a moment?" The words echoed with familiarity in her mind as
the breeze took them away and dispersed them among the boulders on the
cliff face.
     Ryouga was silent fro a moment, and Ukyou could almost hear the
gears turning in his mind. A lone gull raised its voice on the wind, the
mournful cry echoing about and then fading into a depressive silence. As
the last note disappeared, Ukyou's eyes opened and she knew exactly what
Ryouga would say.
     "No." But it wasn't Ryouga speaking. She was six again and at the
top of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The wind rushed past her,
lifting her hair like a kite. Below she could see gulls dipping and
swooping towards the distant waves, their mournful cries carrying on the
breeze. Ranma was behind her, his slight body perched on top of a
twisted tree branch that looked as if it belonged on a sculpted tree.
"Why should I wonder about that? Otousan takes good care of me. I know
he loves me. Besides, I've got you, Ucchan. Even if we are a thousand
miles apart, you'll still be in my heart, and we'll still be friends. As
long as I know that, I won't be alone."
     Ukyou closed her eyes to block out the memory as Ryouga answered,
"Yes."
     Stunned, Ukyou turned around to see Ryouga standing a few feet up
the path from her, regarding her with an unreadable expression on his
face. Ryouga shook his head, as if to dispel a strange vision. Then he
was the same old Ryouga. His eyes, however, remained wide as if he had
not meant to say that word. He looked so vulnerable that Ukyou took an
involuntary step toward him. She saw a kindred spirit in Ryouga. He was
as lonely as she was. Looking up at him, it was as if she were looking
into a mirror of her soul.
     "Then why are you out here?" Ukyou asked in a soft voice.
     "Do you think I have a choice?" Ryouga asked with a short laugh.
     "Ukyou narrowed her eyes. There was truth in his words, but they
were misleading when put together with his recent actions. "You always
complain about getting lost. You always ask where Ranma is. So why
haven't you asked me? Why have you been so quiet, Ryouga?"
     Ryouga dropped his head and began to walk down the path, heading
down toward the sea. "You wouldn't understand," Ryouga answered as he
brushed past her.
     Spinning, Ukyou grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. "I'm not
letting you off that easily, Hibiki. What do you mean I wouldn't
understand? Or is this just something you don't want to tell me?
Something, that if you did tell me, wouldn't let me lead you to Ranma?
You don't want to say to me that you're just out looking for Ranma to
finish that stupid squabble of yours."
     "It's not a stupid squabble!" Ryouga screamed, his voice
shattering against the rocks like a hammer on a smith's anvil. "How can
you understand what kind of pain Ranma has put me through? I deserve my
revenge. I deserve a chance to make Ranma pay for everything!"
     "Because of a stupid feud over bread!" Ukyou demanded. "Is that
what the Great Hibiki Ryouga is after? Recompensation for some stupid
bread?" Ukyou's patience, worn thin by the events of the day began to
fray like a hawser on a ship in high seas. "Don't tell me about hate and
anguish. I lived through it for ten years because of Ranma. If anyone
does, I have the strongest reason to kill him. But I forgave him,
Ryouga! I forgave him despite the fact that he had ruined my life. And
you can't even forgive him for a simple missed fight that was your own
damn fault?"
     "Will you say the same when Ranma leaves you?" Ryouga whispered,
the wind dispersing his words as they left his mouth.
     "What was that?" Ukyou asked.
     Shaking his head, Ryouga glanced up at her. She was staring
defiantly back at him. Her chin was lifted imperiously, and her fists
rested on her hips with her legs spread wide for support. He could
easily tell her why he was looking for Ranma, but was it a good idea?
Despite his time in Nerima, he knew little about Ranma's other fiancees.
He didn't know how Ukyou would take the news that Ranma had gotten Akane
pregnant. He didn't know how she would take it when he told her he was
going to kill him. He couldn't trust her with any of that knowledge. And
even if he could. He would never vilify Akane by proclaiming to the
world that she was pregnant. Even in that he'd protect her.
     "You could never understand," Ryouga said.
     "Then why don't you tell me?" Ukyou demanded.
     "It'll take too long," Ryouga countered and began to turn away.
     "I think we have all the time we need," Ukyou insisted. "We are
traveling together. So why do you hate Ranchan so much?"
      Ryouga sighed. He knew when he had lost. He needed Ukyou to help
him find Ranma. Besides, he told himself silently, her company would
alleviate the boredom, the loneliness and the depression that hounded
him along side of his dark thoughts of both Akane and Ranma. Motioning
at the path, he began to walk down it as Ukyou quickly caught up with
him.
     "Where to begin?" he said as they made their way down the
treacherous trail. "What hasn't Ranma done to me? There isn't much, but
I can't blame him for how my family life was. I can't blame him, no
matter how much I want to, for my sense of direction. It's that curse I
despise the most."
     Ukyou frowned. She wondered what other curse Ryouga had. Could he
have been to Jusenkyo? If he had, he'd hidden it well. But before she
could ask him about it Ryouga interrupted her.
     "Did you ever go to the mall when you were a kid and get separated
from your parents?" 
     Ukyou nodded her head. It had happened once a few months after
Ranma had left her behind. She had been separated from her mother in a
shopping area. Ukyou still shuddered at the memory of the unreasoning
terror that had filled her when she found herself alone among strangers.
It had only been made worse because of the disappointment she had felt
from her parents over the past months. The only explanation for being
alone that she could find was that her mother didn't want her anymore.
Ranma hadn't wanted her and now her family didn't. She hadn't even been
able to cry.  Curling up into a small fetal position, she'd stayed in
the same spot and just rocked back and forth, whimpering in fear and
loneliness. 
     "Grow up like that," Ryouga growled. "Grow up with no one around.
Grow up with only yourself to depend on for everything you need. Maybe
I'd see my parents once every few months. They'd ask about me and try
and make up for the lost time, but it would only be for a week, maybe
two, before someone would disappear and then the pattern would start all
over."
     "I guess wandering over Japan at the age of seven isn't the
healthiest thing."
      Ryouga shook his head. "It wasn't so much me, but them. I had my
dog to lead me around. She made sure I got everywhere I needed to go. Or
at least, she always found me and got me home. It was lonely. I was an
only child, and my parent's were rarely ever at home." Ryouga spoke in
an even voice, allowing none of the despair he had always felt from
being orphaned in such a way to show. 
     "Still," Ukyou said, "it must have been a lonely way to grow up.
My parent's rarely talked to me after Genma left me behind, but at least
they were around to care for me. I don't know how you kept on going."
She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice, but she still balmed
Genma for almost all of her problems.
     Ryouga was lost in his own thoughts and didn't hear Ukyou. His
words were bringing back the memories of the long nights spent watching
the world from the window of his bedroom, his dog curled at the end of
his bed as the rest of the house remained empty. "The only person I saw
on a regular basis was my Sensei. He was an older man who had raised my
father, so he knew about my family's problems. He'd come to my home and
train me every night. He wanted someone to continue on his school, and
my father had never had the interest in doing it."
     Ryouga broke off his story as they came to a rough stretch of the
path. A section had slid from the steep face leaving a ten foot drop to
the next section of traversable path. Getting down on his hands and
knees, he slowly began to lower himself over the edge and then lightly
dropped to the shelf below. Ukyou followed his lead, and came to rest
next to him. The sun was well above the horizon by now, and Ukyou felt a
gnawing in her stomach, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the
last village she'd been in. "Do you want something to eat?" Ukyou asked.
They were on a shelf that was about two meters wide and a dozen meters
long. It was enough flat space for them to relax on as they ate.
     "Sure," Ryouga answered.
     Pulling her pack off, Ukyou removed some travel rations and handed
them to Ryouga. They ate in a contemplative silence for a moment, but
the eagerness to hear the rest of Ryouga's tale made her fidget about
until she finally spoke up. "So your Sensei took care of you?"
     Ryouga nodded absently. "He was like a grandfather to me. He had
always been there since I was able to walk, and maybe even before that.
He taught me martial arts. He taught me how to take care of myself and
to survive if I ever lost my way. But he was an old man. He couldn't
stay alive forever, though I wish he had. He died when I was in middle
school, and my life slowly fell apart from there."
     Turning away from Ukyou, so she wouldn't see the unshed tears in
his eyes, Ryouga watched the sea below them. How could he explain the
pain that had come from losing the only person who had been a constant
in his life? His world had ended the day he'd come home from school to
find his master sitting on the porch as if he had fallen asleep, but he
hadn't been asleep. It was as if his life had only been given warmth by
a single candle, and it had been snuffed out by a careless and
inconsiderate hand.
     "I'm sorry." Ukyou's soft words and her gentle hand on his
shoulder caused Ryouga to start.
     Shrugging his shoulders, Ryouga stood up. "It doesn't matter
anymore. That was a long time ago. He was there when I needed him. He
taught me everything I needed to know. I would like to have him alive
today, but things never go that way. Besides, Ranma came along at that
time and it was easy to bury the loss in my fights with him."
     "So you just started fighting with Ranma to keep from grieving?"
Ukyou asked incredulously.
     "I didn't say that!" Ryouga spun and glared at Ukyou who was still
leaning against a small boulder. "Ranma started everything. He's the one
who always stole the bread from out of my mouth. He is the one who
insulted me again and again! He's the one who wasn't there when I came
to fight him!"
     "You were four days late," Ukyou replied by rote. Ranma had
complained about that fact more than once. In the last few months, she'd
become more of a comforter for him, and she had become used to finishing
his sentences whenever a discussion about Ryouga or Akane had come up.
     "He should have waited," Ryouga argued. He ground his teeth in
frustration. Ranma always ran away in the end. He'd done it at their
first fight, and now he'd done it to Akane.
     "So it's his fault he was dragged off to China by his father? So
it was his fault that you had to follow him and get lost for the next
two years? Was that stupid feud important enough to ruin your life by
going after Ranma? Not even Ranma is as dumb as that."
     Seething, Ryouga took a step forward. "You," he said in a deadly
hiss, "don't even know the beginning of it. You don't know the pain he
has put me through. You don't know what I suffer through every day
because of what he did to me."
     "He didn't show up for a fight!" Ukyou shouted in exasperation.
"The rest is your fault. It's not his fault that you can't get your act
together and ask Akane out. It's not his fault you get lost. So what is
it!"
     "Everything!" Ryouga raged. "He's taken my happiness. He's
destroyed Akane's. And now he's after that stupid bimbo. How can you
follow him? How can you love him?"
     "Because I do!" Ukyou shouted. "And don't go blaming Ranma for
what Akane is going through. She's the one who gave him up. She's the
one who made the promise to Shampoo. You have no right to blame him for
any of this!"
     He wanted to scream out that Ranma had gotten Akane pregnant, but
just seeing the burning fire within Ukyou's eyes, he knew she'd never
believe him. And how did he know that Ukyou wouldn't turn on Akane? He
didn't. So he kept his silence and simply glared at Ukyou, the weight of
his secret bearing down on him.
     "So you don't have any reason to hate him. You just want to beat
him because he had Akane. You just want to win because you always lost.
It is such an honourable feud, Ryouga. This should go down in the
history books as a tale of true samurai virtue." Her voice dripped with
sarcasm. "You have nothing to blame him for. It's your own stupid pride
that is driving you. Like Kunou, you just can't admit defeat."
     "Wounded pride!" Ryouga roared incredulously. "If it were only
pride I might let it go. If it were just some stupid bread feud, I might
have stopped after one fight. But it wasn't. He has insulted me, tricked
me, humiliated me, and brought all of my sorrows on me. It's his fault I
have to live in fear because he pushed me into the Spring of Drowned
Pig!" 
     A stunned silence fell over Ukyou as the words rebounded off the
rocks and then disappeared as the wind blew them inland. She didn't know
what to say. A thousand little hints and clues had finally connected in
her head. She didn't know whether to laugh or shout at him. He was
staring at her with an expression that she knew matched hers. He looked
like he didn't believe he had just shouted his secret out to the world.
"You're...you're P-chan?" She shook her head in astonishment. She had
always thought P-chan was a little peculiar. She had even suspected that
Ryouga might be cursed. He had been even more afraid of water than Ranma
not to be, but she'd never had proof. She didn't know why it suddenly
made sense. It just did. The constant rivalry between Ranma and Ryouga.
The bickering, the name calling. How could she have missed something
that obvious?
     She wanted to say something, something that would make everything
as it had been. The words were not there, however, and she could only
mumble, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I had no right to say those things."
     "Not many people did," Ryouga explained, his anger cooling under
Ukyou's apology and his own shock at his loss of control. "If Ranma is
anything, it's honourable. He kept his word. He didn't tell anyone. A
few people found out, but most just ignored it."
     "I don't see how we all missed it."
     "I always thought it was my karma allowing me to be with Akane as
long as possible." A pained look crossed his face for a moment. "Or
maybe it was trying to teach me a lesson. Whatever, it doesn't matter
anymore. You can tell whoever you want." Ryouga turned away and began to
walk towards the next stretch of trail. His words were the truth. His
duty as P-chan was over. He had failed to protect Akane. He had failed
to be there in her time of need. He had deserted her. He had not gained
her heart. P-chan's job was done. Now he was Ryouga, and Ryouga was the
only hope of vengeance that Akane had. Now he just had to find Ranma.
     "Ryouga?"
     The questioning voice brought him to a halt. "What do you want,
Ukyou. You're looking to help Ranma, and I'm going to fight him. I don't
think we should be traveling together."
     There was silence in answer to his words, and Ryouga considered
that an agreement. He was about to continue when she spoke again. "Maybe
you're right, Ryouga, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. I don't
want you to hurt Ranma. I don't care if you fight him. You do that all
the time. I won't, however, let you hurt him." Ukyou's voice was like
ice, and Ryouga shivered as goose bumps crawled across his skin. "He has
suffered more than you can imagine, Ryouga. Maybe I can convince you to
let this go, or simply turn it into a formal match."
     "You can try," Ryouga conceded. He was not giving in to her. She
didn't know the full story. Maybe he would tell her in time, but at the
moment, it would only give her more reason to hinder his search. She was
baggage, but, like a carry-on bag, she could offer him some comfort. He
hated being in the wilderness alone. She could also help direct him. 
     "I might, but it is not the most important thing," Ukyou stated.
"I don't want to be alone anymore. At least you can keep me company. We
can keep each other company, Ryouga. Please."
     It was the please that caught at his heart and allowed him to
relent in his decision. Turning he gave her a shy, fanged smile. "I
guess it'd be nice to have someone to talk with." Ukyou returned his
smile, her eyes lighting up. 
     Grabbing her pack, she shouldered it and came to stand beside him.
"Arigato."
     "So where are we going?" Ryouga asked, watching the sea below
them.
     "Down," Ukyou explained, "and then we are going toward Hiroshima.
I think he's going there. If he's not going there, he'll be going to
China."
     "Akane said Hong Kong," Ryouga added.
     "They're the same, Ryouga. But you're right. I think Nabiki
mentioned something about Hong Kong. I wasn't thinking too clearly at
the time, but I think it would be a good place to start if we don't find
him in Hiroshima."
     "I guess we'll be together for a while," Ryouga stated.
     "I guess."
     Above them, two gulls circled each other as they searched for a
place to land. Finally, they both gave off a screech and began to beat
their wings and headed out to sea. Below them, two figures were making
their way down a sloping cliff side. Two rivals with a similar goal but
different causes, thrown together for a short time by the winds of
chance. 


                             -- 7 --


     Cold darkness surrounded him, slowly suffocating him like a rising
tide does to a trapped swimmer. Frantically, he searched for a way out.
Only a small pinprick of light gave him any hope. With desperate, claw-  
like strokes, he propelled himself toward that light. In horror he
watched it grow steadily, but not as steadily as he body's desperate
need for oxygen. Still, he struggled on, and when the light shone
brightly above him, he reached forward and found nothing but more cold
darkness. Then his body betrayed him, sucking in the cold darkness aas
it tried to find the desperately needed air. 
     There was no panic, only a hollow sorrow that wailed within his
mind as the spurious hope of the light slowly vanished into darkness. He
plunged downward, the cold numbing him, killing him as he finally let
his conscious mind go.
     He was on the edge of a pool, his face pressed tightly against the
cool dirt as tears leaked from his eyes into the ground. He had finally
found his cure, but at what cost? A man for eternity. A man in mind,
body, and soul, yet it was so hollow. Around him the world burned as the
dark shadow slowly spread its destructive, cancerous stain across
humanity. 
     In his mind he saw the brutalized body of Xian Lin, her mewling
death cries burning in his ears more than sher creams had during her
mutilation. His friends were consumed and then slain. His family died
before his eyes, and then he watched as Akane lay in the dojo, her hand
held out pleadingly for him as her life gushed forth from her neck onto
the wooden floor. "Akane," he whispered hoarsely.
     "Live forever, my friend. You don't need them." The voice was
soothing, comforting in his ear. For some reason he trusted it. Whoever
the voice belonged to was going to make his life better. No more
confusion. No more sorrow and death. But he still wanted Akane. He
needed Xian Lin to live. He had promised them.
     "Yes I do," Ranma whispered finally.
     "Then have them!" the voice replied joyfully.
     Akane's still body jerked, and then rose from the ground, her gi
soaked in blood. She moved like a marionette, jerky and lacking the
grace she held in life. Smiling, she walked to Ranma and lifted his face
from the dirt. He could see the gaping wound in her neck, the maggots
slowly gorging on her flesh. Leaning down she kissed him, her lips
tasting of decay and filth. "I love you, Ranma," the voice gurgled, and
Ranma screamed.
     A warm breeze flowed around him and through the open front of his
elegant silk kimono to caress his chest like a lover's fingers do. Above
him the spreading branches of the cypress tree swayed gently, casting a
moving mosaic of shadow and sunlight on the soft grass. To the side, a
small creek gurgled over a rocky stream bed as it flowed down the
rolling hill that descended toward the endless sea.
     It was peaceful, a beautiful day to be alive and with his family.
At the thought, childish laughter burst out from below him and he saw a
group of children running up the hill, vying to be the first to reach
their father. 
     He smiled as a black-haired girl tripped an older boy and raced
forward, quickly outdistancing the slower siblings who still raced
behind. She was laughing as she barreled into his arms and buried her
small face in his chest. "I won, Otousan," she exclaimed. "I won!"
     "So you did, little one," Ranma said, smiling at the beaming face
gazing up into his. "And I think I might have something for you."
     "Really, Otousan?"
     He only smiled and reached into his kimono, searching for the
small lacquered box he had brought with him. He didn't remember bringing
it, but he knew that it would be there. 
     "Spoiling the children again?"  A sweet voice asked.
     "What else is there to do?" he asked as his hand found the small
box. The other children, nine in all, had gathered around him to see
what their sister would receive. He pulled the box from his kimono and
held it out. They all gasped at the beautifully lacquered rosewood box
with blue and gold butterflies inlaid on the sides and blooming sakura
on the lid. 
     "It's very pretty."
     He glanced up and smiled at the woman walking toward him. She was
dressed in sky-blue kimono patterned with red stylized flowers with a
red obi wound around her waist. Her blue-black hair was still cut short,
the way he had always liked it. Her hazel eyes were shining as she
watched their children and him. 
     "I'm glad he let us leave in time. I'm so happy here."
     He nodded absently as his daughter tugged on the sleeve of his
kimono. "Open it, Otousan." Smiling he clicked the butterfly-shaped
latch and opened the top of the box to loose a host of butterflies into
the warm breeze.
     With a squeal of delight, the children took after the butterflies.
He watched the gorgeous insects rise into the air as his adoring wife
came to kneel beside him. He touched her hand and let his gaze follow
one resplendent golden butterfly as it lifted into the air and then
toward sea and out to the horizon. He watched the expanse of water rush
toward the distant horizon and screamed as he saw the burning hell that
waited there while he remained on his small secluded island.
     For a moment everything stood still and then the horizon rushed
toward him, a firestorm of destructive energy and death. He heard Akane
scream in pain as his children's voices rose in agonizing cries and then
the burning hell was consuming him. Each cry multiplied in his ears and
then echoed like a burning knife in his heart. Reaching within himself,
he pushed away the burning darkness and the brimstone scented air to
find his wa. He embraced it and pushed it outward, screaming for the end
of his suffering. 
     The screams disappeared. The grass was gone, and his heart was no
longer tormented. He felt his feet touch on a smooth, solid surface.
Tentatively, he opened his eyes, expecting horrors beyond words, only to
find that he was nowhere. Above him a trillion stars shone steadily as
they arced down to meet the land. A land that could not even be
described as black. It was worse. It drew the light into it, leaving an
impression of emptiness in his eyes. Unconsciously, he glanced down and
saw that he was barefoot, his feet torn and dirtied to a point where he
could barely see the skin, yet against the void they glowed like the
blue nebula that hung slightly above the distant horizon.
     Though this place was unknown to him, he felt that there was a
place within it he had to be; a place that he had to see before he left.
Closing his eyes, he felt an insistent tugging at the corner of his
mind. He took a step of faith forward, and then another. Satisfied that
he was going the right way, he continued to walk, his eyes fixed on the
heavens instead of the void beneath his feet.
     Time was immeasurable. He knew that he walked and that he never
tired. Like the realm of Boukyaku, it was unchanging and as endless as
was needed. Only slowly did he discern the end of his quest. A light
from the heavens slowly broke and sat upon the void, steadily, albeit
slowly, growing closer and larger. 
     Even though it was light, and it was distant, he could see the
sickly, almost cancerous, glow to it. It was not vibrant like the stars
above. It pulsated like a slowly failing heart, labouring harder and
harder to continue its valiant yet doomed purpose. With every step he
took closer, a feeling of dread-filled terror began to etch itself in
his heart. Whatever resided in the heart of the light was going to be a
nightmare, but a small voice told him that he had to witness it.
     The light grew until it obscured his sight and then he was within
it. It slid past him, caressing his skin like an oil slick upon the
water. He could see nothing but the bright, sickly light, looking more
like a thick fog illuminated by headlights. He pushed through it,
ignoring the instinct within him to flee.
     The fog never dimmed, it just ended, and his foot was placed on
the void once more. Above and around him was a cocoon of the pulsing,
sickly light. Then he turned his eyes inward, and a strangled sob was
wrenched from his throat as he collapsed to his knees.
     The void continued before him, flat in the small area, except in
the center where three obelisks thrust from the ground, their rough
edges mocking the seamless perfection of the void beneath his feet. The
center was one was taller than the two that flanked its sides, but the
two smaller drew his eyes in anguished suffering. 
     A figure decorated each, more a lifeless rag doll than the humans
he knew them to be. They were similar in appearance, but he could see
the difference. To him they were as different as night and day. On his
right hung Xian Lin, her head bowed to her chest as a streak of white
bubbled from her heart and abdomen, as if she were a living tap, to run
down the obelisk to a glowing, white pool at the base where it slowly
sank into the void.
     On his left hung himself, or at least his cursed form. Her body
was drying up, only a thin trickle of blue running from her heart to the
ground. And then the blue disappeared, and the body began to shrivel. 
     With a cry he ran forward, but he knew he was too late. He watched
as she raised her head for a moment. He saw the pain, the sorrow, and
then emptiness as she became dust. His howl of rage and grief echoed
through the small area and then was mocked by a cruel laugh.
     Spinning, he saw the golden-skinned man with the silvery hair that
Boukyaku had become in their last meeting. He was kneeling at the base
of Xian Lin's prison. With ease, he reached down and filled his hand
from the glowing white pool, lifted it to his lips, and drank. Xian Lin
screamed, her head snapping upright, her eyes burning in hate and
eternal torment.
     "Let her go!" His voice boomed across the space, but Boukyaku
ignored him and dipped his hand once more into the white pool.
     "Try some," he offered, holding his hand out, "and then we can
have your world as our own. I'll give you everything you want.
Everything. Try her." He took a sip and she screamed again. "She's
delicious." His lips drew back to reveal serrated teeth that gleamed.
     "You no longer control this place. Let her go!"
     "Oh, don't I? Am I really trying to buy you, little man? Or, am I
offering you your freedom?"
     "I am free," he seethed in anger.
     "Then why are you up there?" Boukyaku pointed at the center
obelisk.
     Turning, he looked, but already found himself hung from the top of
the dark pillar. Nothing bound him, but he still could not escape
despite his urgent struggles.
     Regally, Boukyaku stood and walked toward him. "It doesn't have to
end like this. You don't need to spill your soul to free me." Boukyaku
gestured to Xian Lin and the husk of his other form. "They are more than
enough, for both of us." Lifting his hand, Boukyaku trace a small
pattern on Ranma's chest and then over his abdomen. There was a burning
pain, as if his body had been ripped asunder, and then a soothing warmth
was flowing from his body to the obelisk and the ground. He felt empty,
violated, but he could do nothing. "You don't need to die. I can give
you everything. Even Xian Lin, but not before she suffers."
     The voice caressed his ears like Akane's voice had during their
last night together, but he ignored this one. He searched inside
himself, looking for an escape, searching desperately for an escape.
     He found it deep within himself, a door to darkness and release,
but it was only for him. He could not save Xian Lin.
     A brief whisper touched his mind. "Go," Xian Lin whispered. "He
lies. He can't do it without both of us. I'm safe for now."
     He tried to tell her where to look inside herself but she silenced
him with a gentle touch of her mind. "Go, Ranma. This isn't for you."
Tears leaking from his eyes to join the flow of blue-white that was
pouring from his body, he opened the door and stepped through. Behind
him he heard Boukyaku roar in frustration and Xian Lin's voice echoing
in his mind, "I love you."
     Then there was darkness. The comforting warmth of a mother's womb
surrounded him and he let his mind drift, his soul heal itself. A steady
thrumming surrounded him in this safe haven. It continued to grow in
strength and vitality until it sounded as if he had pressed his ear to
someone's chest and could feel the steady rhythm of their heart. He was
at peace as the darkness slowly parted and light filled his eyes. He saw
Mousse and an old man standing above him, each with a worried frown on
their foreheads but relief in their eyes.
     "Ohayoo, Sensei," Mousse said.
     Smiling at them Ranma slipped back into a restful sleep where his
dreams were not haunted, were not the portents of doom that he had lived
through again.
     
     

Author's Notes:

--Translations-- 
Relations and titles:
Otousan/otousama  - father
Okaasan - mother
oneechan/neechan - older sister
oyaji - old man, disrespectful form of father
jiji - very disrespectful term for an older man
ojisan  - older man or uncle
obasan  - older woman or aunt
obaba  -affectionate name Shampoo gives to her grandmother
hiibachan  - grandmother same as obaba
musume  - daughter
-san - everday ending for a name. Takes place of Mister, Ms,or Mrs.
-kun - more informal edning, used to refer to subordinates or friends
-chan - ending that denotes affection or can mean little on a pet. Used    mostly for children and teenage girls
-sama - very respectful. Like Lord or Lady. Means you are less then them
sensei - master, teacher, doctor, or officer.



Others:
otoko - man or male
onna - girl or female
Soo-desu  - It is so  - or - that is so
Hai  -  yes
Iie  - no
masaka - impossible
wa - center. A state of meditatvie trance.
ki - soul
chi - energy of the soul and life
sakura - cheery blossoms
-fu - as in Okayama-fu, means Prefecture
zabuton  - the pillows that Japanese kneel on when they are at a table
     or in a seiza position
seiza  - position of kneeling
tatami - floor mats. A room's size is usually indicated by the number      of tatami, i.e. a 6 tatami room
shoji  - rice paper doors, light and airy.
Shogi  - Japanese form of chess
Go - a Japanese game involving black and white stones where you try to     turn as many stones to your color as possible
gomen/gomen nasai  - sorry
arigato  - thank you
ne  - a term similar to Right? Or eh? Or huh? Denotes question basically
ja (dewa) mata - well, again... sort of like  see ya later
sayonara - good bye
shitsuree shimasu - exuse me - good bye
oyasuminasai - good night
ohayo - good morning
konnichi wa - good afternoon (used until 5pm)
konban wa - good evening
sumimasen - pardon me and in some cases thank you
meiyo - honour
ai - love
soshite - and (used for sentences, but I misused it and don't want to      change it)
nikushimi - hate

     I didn't use all of them, but I'm trying to compile a section of
commonly used words in my fics...                  


Comments:

     First, I want to give a heartfelt thank you to all of my
prereader's. They have been doing a great job with pointing out the
lacking points of each part and helping me make them as good as I can.
I'd especially like to mention Dave Eddy, Shelly, Rea, and Phoenix
Jones, who have all given me a great amount of help, as well as their
own time, on these last sections. Thanks guys, I couldn't do it without
you...

     Now less serious stuff...

     I don't know why this took so long to write. I think the problem
was that it took time to make sure I was satisfied with Ryouga and
Ukyou. Some, a few of my prereaders in particular, might tell me that I
should have had Ryouga spill the beans about Akane's pregnancy, but I
don't think he wants to. One he needs Ukyou, and he doesn't know how
she'll take it. Two, he doesn't want to betray Akane's confidence.
Three, I didn't want him to tell Ukyou at this point, which I guess is
the best reason. It's not feasible to the plot right now. 
     Mnay of you will notice that I portray Ryouga in a darker light
than he actually is. One thing that must be remembered is the fact that
the circumstances in my story are such that it takes the characters
beyond their normal bounds. Ranma has become a very troubled young man.
Mousse is finding himself. Akane is dealing with something she never
expected to deal with. Nabiki is finding her place in the world, while
Kasumi is trying to define her place in the changing world around her.
This is a story about maturity. Ryouga must also find that path to his
maturity, and this is the first step on that poath,. He must find
himself before he can begin to grow. It is the same with all of the
others. Some get worse before they get better. Some, like Nabiki, are
given chances that will help them.
     As to ending with a dream, I decided to do that because if I
didn't, the story would just keep growing. I can just as easily throw
things into the next part. Besides, I don't want to give away too much.
Besides, it ended on a slightly upbeat note insatead of the depressing
notes I generally end on. 
     And yes, this appears to have only nine parts. "Only nine?, he
says?" Well yeah. I could let it grow larger, but I won't. I have to
jump back to Nerima once more, but before I do that, I have a few things
to tie up with the traveling pairs. Then back to Nerima, and then back
to Ranma and the others so I can finish out the chapter. Then we have Ch
6, which is actually going to be pretty short. It doesn't involve too
much. Lets see, the first part is getting them all in place. The second
is traveling. The third involves some conflicts and then the fourth and
fifth should finish the section out. I havne't decided if I'll take a
break after chapter 6 or not, it is a breaking point, but I don't know
if I want to stop. I have a lot more to cover, and I don't want this
winding on for years and years.. I hope to finish sometime in my present
life. ^_^

     Note: The Legacy is just sitting on the backburner. I've just not
had time to look at it recently. I'll get to it though. Don't worry.

     Until next time
     Joseph A. Kohle

     Watch for the Next installment of MASN.
     Chapter 5 Separate Paths: Part 7 - Wa to Fuwa


   ----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----
   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 
   knowing and written 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 some of my fanfics at 
   http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/index.html