========================= RELENTLESS A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction By Grayson Towler ========================= ----------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER TWELVE: Counsel ----------------------------------------------------------- Ukyou was shown to her place by a kindly-faced older woman, which was a relief after the day of naked contempt and hostility she'd endured from the Amazons. This evening's council marked the return of the village Matriarch, but it was hardly a joyous atmosphere. They were gathered to decide how to deal with both her and Ryouga, and Ukyou knew that she did not have many friends to speak on her behalf. According to tradition, the council sessions took place outdoors around an open fire. The women of the village who had been chosen to speak arranged themselves on the warm sand in a semicircle around the simple wooden stool upon which the Matriarch would be seated when she arrived. Ukyou sat on a blanket in the second perimeter, compromised of a larger ring of onlookers who were there to observe but not speak. She'd been given a wide space of her own away from any of the others - she knew better than to assume that was a gesture of respect. The okonomiyaki chef sighed and tried to get comfortable. She didn't think that she'd get much out of this whole affair - it seemed highly unlikely that the Amazons would hold their council in Japanese for her benefit. Assuredly, they would tell her the verdict when it was over. She glanced around as the crowd assembled, looking for familiar faces. She wondered if Shampoo would be here; she was desperately curious to find out what had happened to her rival. As she craned her neck and peered into the gloom, she caught sight of a pair of figures emerging from the darkness into the orange circle of firelight. The glimmering light flickered off the glass lenses on the face of one of the approaching forms - that was Mousse, no question. But the other... "Ryouga?" she gasped, rising halfway to her feet. "RYOUGA!" The customary bandanna was replaced by a pale bandage wrap and he leaned on Mousse for support, but in spite of all that, the Lost Boy looked better than Ukyou had dared to hope. The urge to leap up and hug him was almost irresistible, though she knew she should probably be gentle with him. Instead, she cupped his cheek in her hand and beamed like a child. "Hey, sugar," she said in a choked voice. "How are you feeling?" Ryouga smiled, his face seeming unusually red in the glow of the fire. "Uh... okay, I guess," he muttered. "I had a dream that dinosaurs were playing soccer with my head." The long-haired girl laughed. "What kind of dinosaurs?" "Big ones," Ryouga asserted grimly. Ukyou squeezed his hand and smiled with delight. She spared a look away from her companion towards the Chinese boy. "How's it going, Mousse?" "I'm glad to see you're alive," Mousse said. "It's too bad you got sucked into Saotome's troubles." Ukyou shrugged, preferring not to drag that issue out right now. Mousse's rivalry with Ranma wasn't her business. Mousse seemed to sense her ambivalence and fidgeted with his glasses. "Anyway," he said, "I'm here to translate for you." Ukyou gave a little bow of her head. "Thank you. C'mon, let's sit down." She watched Mousse's glance shift to the left as they settled Ryouga onto the blanket. Ukyou followed his gaze, and wasn't surprised to see Shampoo taking a seat not far away in the ring of spectators. The slender girl flashed a look their way, but not a long one. She seemed far more grave and somber than the sly, confident vixen Ukyou had come to know a lifetime ago, back in Nerima. "What are we doing here?" Ryouga asked in a low voice. "Where's Ranma?" Ukyou turned back to her friend. "They haven't told you a thing, have they? Ranma led the Reikoku away so we could get you here. You were really hurt, sugar." Ryouga clenched his fist in frustration, but didn't have the energy for much more than that. "Tarou?" "Dead," Ukyou said quietly. Ryouga let out a heavy sigh. "That fool. Damn it all." The low murmur of the crowd began to fade into silence. Cologne entered the semicircle of women, her diminutive body framed by the glow of the firelight. "They're starting," Mousse informed them. "So what are they going to be talking about?" Ryouga asked. "You, mostly," Mousse said dryly. "Me?" Ukyou leaned close to whisper in his ear. "We aren't real popular right now, sweetheart. I kinda got into a fight, and... there's some other stuff. Amazon laws and all." Ryouga blanched. "You're not engaged to anyone now, are you?" "No, nothing like that." He thought about that for a couple seconds. "Am I?" Ukyou grinned. "I don't think so. I'll explain later." "I should warn you," Mousse said, "they tend to get kind of... demonstrative in these councils. It can be pretty surprising if you've never seen it before." The women surrounding Cologne waited silently on the soft sands, their stoic faces all but immobile save for the dance of red-orange light in their dark eyes. The matriarch regarded each of the Amazons around her with an appraising gaze, her eyes lingering momentarily on Ban Daidu. All was silent in the village square save for the low music of the late autumn wind through the stones of the canyon walls and the erratic crackles and pops from the great bonfire. Finally, Cologne spoke, her stately voice strong in the night. "She's asking them what they think needs to be done about you," Mousse whispered. The women of the Amazon council leaped to their feet as one, voices raised in a cacophony of indignant shrieks and bellows. Ukyou's eyes bulged in surprise as she watched the frantic gesticulations of the council members - one grabbed her own throat and made gagging noises, another pantomimed holding an invisible foe and throwing a flurry of punches to her face, and yet another jumped up and down pounding the sands and screeching like an angry chimpanzee. Two Amazons produced a suspiciously familiar-looking straw doll with long black hair tied in a white bow, and proceeded to kick the stuffing out of it. "Er..." Mousse began. "What they're saying is..." "I think I can guess," Ukyou whimpered. The manic production ended as abruptly as it had begun. The council resumed their seats around a bemused-looking Cologne. The ancient warrior began to speak again in the same calm tones she'd used before. "She's asking for specific complaints," Mousse translated. "I think she's going to start with Ban Daidu." The healer slowly rose to her feet, meticulously straightening her robes and brushing the stray grains of sand off the bright fabric. She stood straight, flashing a brief, vitriolic glare towards Ukyou, and took a deep breath. Then, she grabbed her hair with both hands, yanking and pulling in a frenzy as she rolled her eyes and made a bizarre gurgling noise. Ban Daidu tossed her head and spun around in a circle, faster and faster until she toppled over backwards foaming at the mouth, her legs twitching in the air. "Is this normal?" Ukyou asked in astonishment. Mousse nodded. "Pretty much so, yes." "Geez." Ban Daidu picked herself up off the sand, fixed her clothing once more, and settled back into her place. Cologne waited patiently for the healer to return to her seat, then began to address the council once more. "What's she saying?" Ukyou asked. "She's basically telling Ban Daidu to let it slide," Mousse responded. "You were wrong, but Ryouga needed help no matter if he's a man or a woman." Ukyou glanced over at Ryouga, wondering if he'd been told about his new curse yet. She didn't want him to learn about it right now - he had a tendency to overreact to things, and now would not be a good time for one of his explosions. But Ryouga's head was slumped forward, his chin touching his chest, and his eyes were closed. The okonomiyaki chef reached over and shook her friend gently. "Hey," she whispered. "This is important, sugar! You wanna pay attention?" Ryouga smacked his lips, let out a little sigh, then collapsed with his head in Ukyou's lap. She let out a little squeak of surprise. "H... hey! What're you doing, you clod?" The Lost Boy simply snuggled into a comfortable position and snored. Ukyou felt the heat rise in her face, but she resisted the urge to belt Ryouga for taking such a liberty. He was too hurt and too tired for that. Gingerly, she unclenched her fists and lowered her hands, resting them lightly on her friend's shoulders. A small smile crept across her features. she told herself. Mousse cleared his throat, calling her attention away from her slumbering friend. The bespectacled martial artist gestured towards the campfire again. The women of the council were up and thrashing about once more. This time, they seemed to be feigning various reactions of terror. Several of them were doing disturbingly accurate animal impersonations - one bleated like a frightened goat with her fingers pointing as horns above her head, another flapped her arms and squawked like a chicken, while a third reared like a horse and tossed her head frantically. Ukyou wasn't sure if the one squatting on her haunches and tossing sand was imitating a monkey or simply being creative in her display. "They're talking about the Reikoku," Mousse explained. "They're worried that someone will get hurt if it comes here to find you. And the animals will panic." Ukyou fiddled with Ryouga's hair nervously. That was a valid point, especially the bit about the animals. As much as she trusted Ranma to handle things, she couldn't deny that she and Ryouga endangered the village by their very presence here. Cologne waited for the fervor of the council to abate before speaking. "She's saying that it will be easy to see the Reikoku coming well in advance and clear it a path to you, so nobody gets hurt," Mousse translated. That felt a bit callous, but Ukyou knew better than to hope the Amazons would protect her from that monster. On the balance, she couldn't blame them. That was too much to ask from anyone. Mousse listened to the Matriarch's voice, a grimace of distaste settling across his features. "She's also telling them that she's confident in Saotome's ability to keep the Reikoku busy." He frowned. "Laying it on a bit thick, I'd say. She shouldn't have to fawn over him like that anymore." "I have faith in him too," Ukyou told him seriously. He gave her a look of suppressed exasperation. "Pfeh," he snorted. "Look where that's gotten you." "What's THAT supposed to mean?" she shot back angrily, but she was pretty sure she understood him perfectly. Mousse started to say something, then stopped himself, looking thoughtful. "You know, I don't have much reason to hate Saotome Ranma anymore," he said. Ukyou blinked in surprise. "Wh... why not?" Mousse shrugged. "The old ghoul is right about what she's saying about him, how good a fighter he is. Better than me. Better than I'll ever be, probably." The lenses hiding his eyes glimmered orange and yellow in the light of the flames. "Mousse..?" "But I don't care about that anymore," the Chinese boy continued. "Because I understand something now. Saotome Ranma is a jinx. Misfortune follows him everywhere he goes, and those who are closest to him are the ones that suffer the most." "That's ridiculous!" Ukyou snapped. "Maybe he doesn't mean it," Mousse said. "But does that matter? Look at yourself and Ryouga. Look at what Shampoo has suffered because of him. What I have endured. Can you really say that I'm wrong?" The young chef gave him a mixed look of irritation and bewilderment. "Look, Mousse, just because... I mean, I don't think you can say..." She trailed off. She didn't believe what the Chinese boy had said, but she couldn't frame a good argument against him. "Oh, just forget it," she grumbled. "Just tell me what they're talking about now, okay?" "Oh... uh, yes. Sorry." Mousse turned his attention back to the council and followed the exchanges between the Amazon women for a moment. "They're talking about the techniques you've learned. Accusing Cologne of betraying the tribe, that sort of thing." That explained the contortionist pantomimes that some of the Amazons were performing - evidently, they wished to convey the idea of backstabbing in the most literal manner possible. Ukyou twirled her finger in Ryouga's bangs and tried not to look unsettled as Cologne began to speak once more. Mousse seemed quite intrigued by the old woman's words. "Teaching our techniques to outsiders is actually a very old tradition. Lots of precedent. Huh. I had no idea." "Then how come they're so angry?" Mousse scratched his chin. "She says that it's her judgement that the most recent generations of Amazon warriors have grown complacent in their martial arts, dangerously close to the point of stagnation. The younger girls do not strive hard in their training. They resort to lazy shortcuts and sloppy form. There's not as much competition in this day and age, so the Amazons are at risk of losing their fighting edge." Ukyou noted, with no small degree of satisfaction, that many of the girls who'd harassed her earlier looked distinctively uncomfortable under Cologne's upbraiding. Ling Ling and Lung Lung flinched noticeably. "She says that the current generation is especially disappointing," Mousse continued. "Only Shampoo shows the old spirit and has mastered some of the higher techniques, with her studies of herbalism, acupressure, and Martial Arts Takeout." Ukyou felt the urge to smirk at that last one, but it quickly subsided. Someone who'd based their entire fighting style on okonomiyaki cooking didn't have much room to laugh. "Hey," she said to Mousse. "What about you?" Mousse turned to her, puzzled. "Me?" "That Hidden Weapons stuff," Ukyou elaborated. "That's gotta be a 'higher technique,' right?" Mousse rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Actually, that's not an Amazon technique," he informed her. "It's Chinese Black Magic. I was deemed unfit for advanced teaching, so I had to look... elsewhere. It didn't go over very well around here." Ukyou couldn't quite think of how to respond to that. "Oh," she managed. The long-haired boy turned back towards the council. "By teaching outsiders," he said, picking up on the thread of discussion again, "she says that the techniques of the Amazons will be preserved, sometimes even improved. The tribe will gain allies upon whom it can call in times of need. And the girls of this generation will learn humility, and have to travel to the outside to advance their training. The pact of teaching prohibits outsiders from abusing the knowledge they have gained." "What pact?" Mousse shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask Ryouga." The Lost Boy let out a soft snore. "Maybe later," Ukyou decided. The Amazons grumbled irritably at Cologne's explanations. They did not seem particularly placated by the Matriarch's words - if anything, it appeared as if their irritation had deepened. "She's about to ask them what they wish to do about you," Mousse informed her. Ukyou's muscles tensed as she strained forward. "She asks if they wish to decide on a punishment for your transgressions..." The old woman paused in her oration, surveying the expectant council as they twitched in anticipation. The hint of a mischievous smile played across Cologne's withered features. "Or," Mousse translated, "they can choose to help you in your mission to find and punish Happosai." The Amazons literally rocked back upon hearing Cologne's words, all eyes widening in shock. The old matriarch sat quietly on her stool, nonchalantly examining her fingernails. Suddenly, the council erupted in cheers and jubilation. Two Amazons hefted the battered effigy of Ukyou onto their shoulders and paraded it triumphantly around the bonfire while the others cheered and hurled festive streamers into the air. Ban Daidu twirled a pair of red pinwheels above her head and beamed at Ukyou. Several fireworks exploded in the night sky. "Wha... what... what the...?" Ukyou stammered, utterly flummoxed. "It seems they hate Happosai a whole lot worse than they hate you," Mousse explained. "He has something of a history in this village." "Well... why didn't she just TELL them that in the first place?" Ukyou demanded. Mousse leaned close, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "Because she's an evil old mummy who delights in nothing more than the cruel torment of the liv...AAACK!" Cologne's wooden stool smacked into the side of Mousse's head at an impressive velocity. Ukyou pulled away reflexively as the bespectacled boy went down like a sack of potatoes. she thought. The council members watched impassively as Mousse toppled. Ukyou saw Shampoo rise smoothly to her feet and cross the sands until she reached her fallen friend. She peeled the stool from Mousse's skull, brought it back to Cologne, and waited patiently along with the rest of the council for the elderly warrior to settle herself back into place. The bald girl backed away, and the women resumed their discussion. To Ukyou's surprise, Shampoo did not return to her former place, but instead settled down beside Ukyou. The violet-eyed Amazon sat with ramrod-straight posture, looking directly ahead as she spoke. "Shampoo translate for you now," she said softly. "Uh... thanks," Ukyou replied uncertainly. "They talking about how to help you," the Amazon girl said stoically. "Yeah?" Ukyou said. She was really a lot more curious about what had happened to Shampoo than what the council women were saying, now that opinions had turned in their favor. But it was her impression that it was something very important and embarrassing, so she decided to restrain herself from questioning her rival. That resolve held strong for roughly three seconds. "So what happened to you?" she blurted out. Shampoo's lips twitched and she remained silent for a moment. "Ban Daidu say that Ryouga can travel maybe tomorrow. Is good, yes?" "Come on!" the young chef insisted. "What happened? Why'd you come back? How come you shaved your head?" The lovely Amazon closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. Ukyou watched her intently as Shampoo composed her thoughts, breathing evenly and deliberately through her nose. Finally, the young Chinese warrior tilted her head back and opened her eyes, watching the glittering stars mingle with the tiny orange embers that swirled upwards on heat currents from the flames from which they'd been born, each dying slowly in the late autumn sky. Shampoo spoke in a soft, flat voice, tinged with melancholy. "Best listen to good advice," she said. "Ranma not going to marry you, Ukyou-san." Ukyou was almost as surprised to hear the Amazon girl call her by name - respectfully, no less - as she was by Shampoo's declaration. "What makes you so sure of THAT, huh? You think Ranchan's got a thing for bald chicks, is that it?" "Ranma not Shampoo's husband now," the Chinese girl said softly. "Not anymore." "Sh... Shampoo?" The edges of her rival's eyes glimmered with wetness in the firelight. "Ukyou-san listen now. Shampoo bears much, much shame. It will be long time before Shampoo can grow hair back, be warrior again." "What does that mean?" Ukyou whispered. "Lost. Disgraced. Shamed." Shampoo pronounced each word distinctly, bitterly. "Ranma belong now to Akane-san." "No," Ukyou insisted, but her voice trembled. Shampoo turned to look at her with a smile that was almost warm. "Ukyou-san save herself lots and lots of trouble. See what happened to Shampoo and learn." "But... but I..." Ukyou began, trying to be angry at Shampoo's words but failing to tear through the cottony strands of her own confusion. The Amazon girl gestured towards the council. "They finish now," she said. "Tell you plan tomorrow. Maybe help you find Happosai, they say." With that, she rose quickly and trotted across the sands to attend her great-grandmother. Ukyou tried to rise and pursue Shampoo, her mind whirling with questions, but Ryouga's head in her lap held her down. She watched helplessly as the Amazon girl disappeared, moving out of the light of the dwindling flames until the darkness enveloped her completely. - - - - - - Kurumi turned from the mirror and spread her arms, presenting herself. "So what do you think? Indiana Kurumi!" Nabiki and Natsume regarded the small girl in the beige fedora and shook their heads in unison. "I don't think you'll be able to get away with wearing that in school," Nabiki said. "And you look silly," Natsume added. Kurumi pouted at them for a moment, but she tossed the hat aside. Her scalp was shaved almost to the skin, with only a fine haze of soft fuzz remaining of her bouncy hair. They'd been forced to shave it even closer to the skin in order to eradicate Principal Kunou's pineapple engravings. Right now, they were trying to devise some solution so the poor girl wouldn't have to be too embarrassed until her hair grew back. She hadn't liked any of the wigs they'd tried, so now they were down to hats. Kurumi snatched up a baseball cap, plopped it onto her head with the bill pointing off at a weird angle, and adopted a crossed-arms rapper's stance. "Yo! Check it out - M.C. Kurumi!" "Please don't," Natsume said flatly. "Pfeh! You're no fun," she griped. "We're almost out of hats." "What about that bonnet?" Natsume asked. Kurumi glared at her. "Oh, puke! I'd rather go bald." "Um, excuse me?" came a voice from the open door. Saotome Genma poked his head into the girls' room. "Dinner is about ready, and..." "Hey!" Kurumi exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of it before?" She reached down and snatched a white handkerchief from the scattered piles of clothing strewn across the bed. The young girl wrapped the cloth around her head and then hopped up on Genma's broad shoulder. "See? We match!" "Hmm," Natsume hummed, considering. "My, my," Nabiki purred. "Aren't you two quite the pair?" Genma flinched and began to sweat. "Ha ha ha! Er... yes, well..." The two martial artists didn't seem to notice Genma's consternation. "That's not so bad," Natsume decided. "But come here for a second, sis." The springy young fighter bounced down off Genma's shoulder and approached her sister. Nabiki simply kept her gaze locked on the bespectacled man, until he finally blanched and scurried away. "Right," she said softly to herself. "There," Natsume announced. "How's that?" Nabiki turned to see what she'd done. The plain white handkerchief around Kurumi's head was gone, replaced with a bright red-and-orange patterned silk scarf. She regarded the small girl thoughtfully. "I think that one isn't so bad," she said. "Really?" Kurumi asked, a little doubtful. "Sure," Natsume assured her. "It makes you look kind of like... Rimururu." "Really?" Kurumi asked, her eyes twinkling. "Oh wow! Except my abilities are totally the opposite! I could be, like, her distant cousin or something! Or her long-lost twin! How cool! I can't wait to show Kasumi and father!" She trotted happily out the door. Nabiki raised an eyebrow at the long-haired martial artist. "Who does she look like?" Natsume sighed. "Never mind my sister. She plays too many video games." - - - - - - The sound of the splitting wood was different enough to catch Ranma's attention, and that was when he made his discovery. He knelt in front of the large stone, a pile of hand-chopped kindling off to his right, and examined the two halves of the last log he'd split. Instead of the typical organic fissure running with the grain of the wood, this log looked as if it had been cloven in twain with the blade of a katana. The wood along the cut was so smooth that Ranma could rub his fingers across it without the slightest danger of a splinter lodging in his skin. Ranma had seen this before. He'd seen it on the morning of the day they'd reached Jusenkyou, though he hadn't believed it to be his own handiwork. More recently, though, he'd seen this kind of laser-precise cut on the timber he'd used to build the raft upon which he'd loaded the Reikoku's inert form. he thought. He hadn't even been thinking about cats as he'd been preparing his firewood. In fact, he realized upon reflection, he hadn't really been thinking about anything at all. So why had it happened? How had he done it? "I gotta figure this out," he said aloud. "If I did it once, I oughta be able to get it under control. It's a matter of focusin' down my battle aura like an edge, right? Maybe visualizin' claws will do the trick..." He realized he was talking to himself. He sighed heavily and dropped into a sitting position. There'd been times when he'd been frustrated with his traveling companions on this journey - Ryouga with his temper, his stubbornness, and his confounded sense of direction, Ukyou with her touchy emotions and her continuous attempts to get him to pay more attention to her. Now, though, he missed them both with an intensity he'd have never predicted. He'd always considered them both to be his friends, even Ryouga, but these months they'd spent together on the run in China had infused the bonds between them with a powerful, unspoken strength. He realized they felt more like family now, and that realization made his loneliness all the more acute. He tried to suppress the nagging fear that he would never see them again, but it haunted him nonetheless. Did they miss him too? Did Ryouga realize just how much Ranma had come to respect him now? If Ranma had to choose one companion to walk through Hell with, it'd be Ryouga. He'd met more powerful fighters than the Lost Boy, but never another with the kind of pure guts and determination he'd seen in his friend... except when it came to girls, of course. That made him think of Ukyou. There was a problem he just didn't know how to solve, especially now. He knew how she felt about him, as much as he pretended to ignore it. It had been easier to brush her off before, back in Nerima, back when he could still convince himself that it was her responsibility to get a clue and figure out she was going nowhere with this whole fiancee thing. If worse came to worst, if she had ever pushed the issue and couldn't deal with the fact that he wasn't ever going to marry her, then he knew he'd probably have lost her as a friend. He'd been willing to accept that before, in the rare moments of introspection when he allowed himself to acknowledge the issue. Now, though, it was much harder. Ukyou went to the wall for him by coming here and taking on the Reikoku. She'd pushed herself like a champion in their training and their travels - far from being a burden on the group, as he'd feared, she'd done much more than just pull her own weight. She'd shown him that she had more courage and strength than he'd ever given her credit for. Ranma was still young, and he still found people to be pretty confusing most of the time, but even he knew that friends like Ukyou don't come along very often in a person's life. But how could he keep her as a friend? How could he get her to drop this whole marriage thing without making her hate him forever? He didn't want that, not after all they'd done, all they'd survived. There had to be a way... he admonished himself. Ranma nodded to himself, then rose to his feet. The first thing he had to do was figure out how the power of the Neko-ken kept creeping out when he wasn't actively using the technique. He focused on that issue, forcing all other concerns out of his mind, and searched for some more wood to cut. - - - - - - A late autumn frost had settled upon the Amazon village this morning, defining every curve and angle with a thin white mask. Ukyou watched the vapor of her breath coalesce and dissipate before her. Winter was coming, and the chill of frost settled into her heart as well as onto the grass, leaves, and huts around her. Soon, the snows would fall and ice would coat the roads. In winter, everything slowed down - drifts of snow blocked the roads, ice coated the waters, dangerous storms rose and kept the world indoors. Once the season was in full swing, you had to accept that it would take longer to get from one place to another. They would be hindered, but the Reikoku would not. The season was an ally to the beast which pursued them. If they couldn't find some way to banish the creature forever, to make it stop hunting them, their chances of surviving the winter seemed ominously slim. Ukyou told herself sternly, forcing aside the gloom of her thoughts. It was a strange feeling to wrap her fingers around the well-worn grip of her battle spatula again. Now that they were on the verge of leaving the Amazon village, Ukyou and Ryouga had finally gotten all their supplies and weapons back. She'd thought it would feel good to be armed again, but now she wasn't so sure. she thought. The great spatula, she realized, might be even worse than deadweight now. That monster might not just have a defense - it might actually know how to turn the weapon against her in some way if she tried to use it again. If it did come down to another fight with the Reikoku, she'd be better off throwing her spatulas aside. she told herself. She reflected on this for a few moments, but in the end she shouldered the battle spatula and slung her bandolier around her torso. These weapons might not do her any good against the Reikoku, but they were family treasures and it would be a pity to just leave them in the Amazon village. They still might come in handy on the road. "You about ready, sugar?" she called to Ryouga. The Lost Boy was tying his bandanna back into place. Her friend took a few moments to orient on her voice. She suppressed a giggle - he was kind of touchy about his lousy sense of direction, but sometimes it just struck her as funny. When he did finally locate her, he gave her a thumbs-up. "I'm ready," he said. "You feel okay to travel?" she asked. He nodded. "I wish that doctor would show up. I never got a chance to thank her." "Well... I'm sure she knows you appreciate it," Ukyou said. She didn't see any need to tell him about all the difficulties with Ban Daidu yet. "Ready to go now, are you?" came a startling voice from directly behind Ukyou. She nearly leaped out of her skin in surprise - she'd had no idea anybody was there. As it was, she landed a half dozen meters away, in a defensive crouch. Cologne sat balanced on her gnarled staff, chuckling softly. "Geez, granny! You scared the hell out of me!" Ukyou protested, her heart thundering. "My, my," the old woman said. "What impressive reflexes you've developed, my dear. One might almost speculate that you've been training in some special way." The young chef scratched the back of her neck nervously. "Uh..." "Is this," Cologne asked, "somehow related to that extraordinary technique you used against Ling Ling and Lung Lung? What was it they said you called it... the 'Hunka-hunka Buncha-Punches?' Yes, I think that was it." "The what?" Ryouga spoke up. He shot Ukyou a confused look. "Did you learn some other technique besides that Amaguriken thing?" Ukyou smacked him on the head. "Moron! Just blurt it out, why don't you?" "What? What did I say?" "Don't blame the boy," Cologne said. "I figured it out from the description of the fight, thank you. So, Ranma has been training you, has he?" "Yeah," Ukyou admitted. "What else were we supposed to do? With that thing following us around..." "Oh, I know, I know," Cologne assured her. "Still... I wouldn't have thought you'd be able to master that technique. You young people are full of surprises." "Th... thanks, I guess," the long-haired girl stammered. "So you're not mad or anything?" "No," the Amazon matriarch answered. "But have you been told about the consequences of learning one of our techniques?" "The consequences?" The old woman turned to Ryouga. "Well, boy? Did you inform her of her responsibilities, now that she has trained in the elite arts of Amazon combat?" Ryouga scratched his head a little while and thought. "Er... does this mean she has to marry someone?" Cologne thumped him on the head with her staff. "No, you idiot! The training! She has to pass the training on to other Amazons! Have you forgotten already?" Ryouga rubbed his head and glared. "I remember! Give me a break, okay? I thought Ranma might have told her about that." Cologne sighed and shook her head with mild disgust. "Girl, this fool will explain the details to you if he can be bothered to remember. Suffice it to say that you have an obligation now to keep these methods a secret, and to train others of our tribe in the Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken method, should a young warrior seek you out to be her master." "Uh... okay, I guess," Ukyou said. "What about the other technique? My ki-bolt attack?" Cologne snorted. "That thing? That's not one of our techniques, my girl, and I wouldn't have you polluting one of our warriors with something like that. Which one did you learn, hmm? The original Shi-Shi Hokoudan, or perhaps Ranma's equally ludicrous variant?" "I'm not really sure," the young chef admitted. "Ranchan said he got the idea from my cooking." The venerable warrior peered at her thoughtfully. "Your cooking? What do you mean? Show me this technique of yours, if you will." "All right," Ukyou agreed nervously. She looked around the clearing for a suitable target, and finally settled on a chunk of rock next to a gnarled tree. She tried to focus her concentration, though she found the old woman's scrutiny to be rather unsettling. "I... I'm still not very good at this. It might take a minute." "Take your time, child," Cologne said. "You can do it, Ukyou-san," Ryouga encouraged. It took her more like three minutes before she could finally get her mind to settle into the right space to pull off the technique. When she finally found her focus, the ki-spatula flew straight and true, splitting the stone clean down the middle and kicking up a plume of earth on the other side. She turned to face the Amazon elder again, wiping beads of sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. "I guess it is kind of useless," Ukyou admitted. "I mean, if it took me that long to get it to work in a fight, I'd be in big trouble." "Useless?" Cologne said. "Oh no, my dear. Not hardly. And you're telling me that the son-in... that Ranma taught you that?" "He and Ryouga both trained me," Ukyou said. The withered matriarch chuckled to herself again. "Well, well. Imagine that. I wonder if he realizes what he did?" "I don't get it," Ukyou said. "What's so different about that technique from the ones Ranma and Ryouga do?" "Attend what I say, both of you," Cologne addressed them. "The ki-projection techniques that you," she pointed to Ryouga, "and Ranma use are undeniably powerful, but they pose a dreadful danger to those who employ them. Each feeds upon extreme emotions - depression for one, overconfidence for the other. They require a deep imbalance in the mind and soul of whoever uses them. As time goes by, the emotions required to fuel these attacks will become stronger and stronger. The user of these techniques risks unbalancing his entire personality." "Unbalancing?" Ukyou asked. "You mean Ryouga will get even more depressed than he already is?" Cologne nodded gravely. "And Ranma will become more narcissistic and egomaniacal, if he makes regular use of his Moko Takabisha." Ryouga blanched visibly. "Ranma... with a bigger ego? What a nightmare!" Ukyou thumped him on the shoulder irritably. "Oh, quit it. What about me, though? What will happen if I keep using my technique?" "Ah," the old woman said, raising a finger. "That's where yours is different. As opposed to destroying inner equilibrium, your technique works in such a way as to help you achieve that balance. That is why it is harder for you to use - but ultimately, if you keep working to perfect it, you will open doors to whole new levels of mastery, and your spirit and skill will blossom." "Really?" Ukyou said, her pulse quickening a bit. She wasn't quite sure what the Amazon elder meant, but it sounded pretty exciting. "Is there any way I can still use the Shi-Shi Hokoudan without something bad happening to me?" Ryouga asked. "In its current form? No," Cologne replied. "Not unless you can come to an understanding of your own despair, one which uplifts you rather than drags you into darkness." "Uplifts me?" Ryouga squinted in confusion. "Uplifting despair? What is that supposed to mean?" "I cannot answer that question for you, child," Cologne told him. "That is a path you must walk alone." Ryouga crossed his arms. "If I live so long, you mean." The old woman nodded gravely. "The Reikoku pursues you. All other matters are secondary. So... where are you going to go now that you are fit to travel?" That seemed like a remarkably dense question for the Amazon matriarch, Ukyou thought. "We're going after Ranchan, of course!" she stated firmly. "Where else would we go?" "Oh?" Cologne asked. "And you have some plan to find him?" "Of course!" the okonomiyaki chef said confidently. "He's keeping in touch with the Tendous. Once we get to a place with a phone, we'll just call them and find out where he is. Then we just have to catch up to him." "Mmm," Cologne hummed thoughtfully. "You make it sound very straightforward." "What?" Ukyou asked warily. "What are you suggesting?" "I think," the venerable warrior said, "that you may want to talk to Ban Daidu before you make your decision. She was part of the council last night, you see, and we discussed many ways that we might help you on your mission." "Help us?" Ryouga asked, confused. "How?" Cologne responded by rapping the butt of her staff loudly on a nearby stone. "Ban Daidu!" she called. "Please come forth now, child." The Amazon healer emerged as bidden from a nearby hut and approached them with measured dignity. Ukyou felt her muscles tightening up as the older woman met her gaze. "Uh... hi," she offered lamely. "You're the healer?" Ryouga asked, oblivious to the tension between the two women. He turned and bowed deeply to her. "You have my thanks." Ban Daidu regarded him impassively for a moment, then allowed a small, tired smile to cross her features. She bowed back slightly. "I accept your thanks, Hibiki Ryouga, and I wish you a safe journey." The healer turned to face Ukyou again, her hands fidgeting slightly. "Miss Kuonji," she said. "I... I regret some of the words which passed between us before." That was pretty close to an apology. Ukyou felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. "Hey, it was mostly my fault," she admitted. "I should have been straight with you." Ban Daidu nodded slightly, the ribbons in her hair rustling softly against her greying tresses. "I would not have you leaving this place remembering only my harsh and angry voice." "I'll tell you what," Ukyou said with a smile. "I think the only thing I'm going to remember is that there was this really great doctor who helped us out when we needed it most. The rest doesn't really matter, does it?" The Amazon healer's eyes shone with relief. "Then I will only remember a brave young warrior who endured much hardship to bring her friend to safety." "Sounds good to me, ma'am," Ukyou told her. Ban Daidu held her right hand to her lips and gently kissed her own fingers. She reached out to Ukyou and pressed her fingertips against the Japanese girl's forehead. "You are welcome at my hearth in better times," she said. Ukyou bit her lip a little bit and smiled. "I hope I can take you up on that," she said. Ban Daidu drew back a little bit and cleared her throat. "Yes... well. About your quest, Ukyou and Ryouga. I believe I have something which might aid you." She reached into the folds of her sleeve and produced a teardrop-shaped turquoise earring, which she held forth in the palm of her hand. "What's that?" Ukyou asked curiously. "Many years ago," the healer explained, "my grandmother was the one of our great scholars. But she had a peculiar problem. No matter how hard she tried, she could never keep track of both earrings in a pair. She had three jewelry boxes full of single earrings, all of which had lost their mates. Accessorizing, for her... was totally hopeless." Ukyou blinked away a tear. "That's terrible," she whispered. Ryouga gave her a perplexed look. "It is?" "Never mind," Ukyou said. "Please go on." "Her husband-to-be knew of this problem," Ban Daidu continued. "And before he wed her, he set himself a quest. Far and wide he traveled, until he at last found a pair of beautiful stones which held a magical attraction for each other. He had these stones crafted into earrings, and presented them to my grandmother on the day of their wedding. It was the perfect gift - if one earring were to be lost, the other would serve as a sort of compass to help find it. My grandmother was overjoyed. "But, a cruel fate befell my family," the healer explained darkly. "Before my grandmother could even try these earrings on, a man who had been plaguing our town for weeks came forth and plundered the wedding ceremony. Amongst other treasures, he made off with one of my grandmother's new earrings. Shortly after, the villain left our town. That thief's name was Happosai." "The old pervert!" Ryouga exclaimed. "Exactly," Ban Daidu agreed. "You should know that the accursed rogue will never part with a thing which he has stolen. Even after all these years, he still has the mate to this earring. And with this," she said, plucking the small piece of jewelry up by its thin golden hook, "you will be able to find him." Ryouga and Ukyou bent close to peer at the earring as it dangled from Ban Daidu's grasp. Sure enough, they could see the turquoise teardrop leaning outwards from the centerline of the accessory, pointing towards the west. "It works!" Ryouga said. "That means Happosai is somewhere over there!" He pointed due south. Nobody bothered to correct him. "I don't get it," Ukyou said. "How come you never used this to find that old goat before?" "For two reasons," Ban Daidu explained. "First, it has only a limited range, though we don't quite know how far. One or two hundred kilometers, probably. See how weakly the earring indicates its direction? Happosai is on the very edge its limits, and moving away. Soon, he will be gone." "But that still doesn't explain why you didn't use it when he first escaped with your stuff," Ukyou observed. "Yes," Ban Daidu said, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm afraid that... my grandmother lost this earring. For the longest time, we believed Happosai had stolen them both. Only recently, after she died a few years ago, did we find it under the bed." "It was under the bed the whole time?" Ukyou's tone was incredulous. "What's so odd about that?" Ryouga asked. Ukyou gave him a half-lidded look. "Just forget about it." "I wish you to have this earring," Ban Daidu said. "Use it to find Happosai. Many decades of ill deeds and betrayal follow him, like a shadow growing ever longer. Perhaps now is the time when justice will finally be served." She held the piece of jewelry forth, towards Ukyou. The young chef extended her hand and let the earring drop into her open palm, her eyes glittering with excitement. Suddenly, their journey didn't seem anywhere near as hopeless as before. "We'll find him," she promised. "Once we catch up to Ranchan, we'll use this earring to..." "Did you not listen?" Cologne interrupted. "The earring has a limited range, and Happosai is on the edge of it. In order to lure the Reikoku away from you, Ranma must have traveled that way," she said, pointing her staff towards the east. "Happosai lies in the other direction." The elation Ukyou had felt about the earring began to give way to fear. "But... then... we'll just head back west once we meet up with Ranchan! We can pick up that old pervert's trail again. We only have to get within a couple hundred kilometers, right?" The old woman shrugged. "You could try that, certainly. Yet old Happosai has shown you how difficult he is to pursue, has he not? Who knows where he might head next? He might well leave China altogether. And winter approaches, Kuonji Ukyou. I believe you have thought about what that means." "This isn't fair!" Ukyou cried. "Damn it all!" Cologne's wrinkled face was sympathetic. "No, my girl. It is not fair." She turned to Ryouga, her eyes pleading. "We can't just leave Ranchan!" The Lost Boy's eyes were grave. He drew a deep breath and grit his teeth. "Ukyou-san." "Ryouga!" "If anybody can survive by himself, it's Ranma," he said. "You came here to aid him," Cologne said. "Now you must decide how to best achieve that goal. And I tell you this: I have not forgotten about Saotome Ranma, even though he is no longer engaged to Shampoo. I will be sending him what assistance I can." Ukyou clenched her fist tight, pressing the little earring deep into her palm. Her eyes stung with frustration and grief, but her jaw was tight with determination. "All right then," she growled. "We'll do what you suggest. We'll go after Happosai. That little bastard will pay for this, I swear it. He will pay." - - - - - - Konatsu waited patiently, his grip light on the handle of his spatula as he watched the last few seconds tick off the clock. The oil on the griddle sizzled softly - it was just the right temperature. He merely had to await the perfect moment, only a few more seconds... The kunoichi smiled as the second hand finished its arc, and he began to lay the strips of salmon onto the grill. This, he had learned, was Nabiki's favorite. He'd seen her enjoy a great many of the okonomiyaki ingredients served at the restaurant, but nothing excited her taste buds like the flavor of fresh salmon, lightly grilled in a tangy mirin sauce. She never admitted it, of course - it wouldn't be like her to spell out her feelings so plainly - but Konatsu could tell. He knew her very well by now. Salmon was kind of expensive and only good fresh, so they only offered it on weekends when they could be sure it wouldn't go to waste. Fortunately, Nabiki had made of habit of coming into the restaurant early on weekends, a few hours before they opened for business. And she was always punctual. This was a very special time for Konatsu. He'd gotten the timing down to an art by now. When the first batch of salmon was done and the second was fresh on the grill, the aroma of the fish in the small restaurant reached its peak. At that moment, Nabiki would walk through the door of Ucchan's, her clothes smartly pressed and her daytimer tucked under her left arm, and that sweet fragrance would greet her. She would stop, just for a second, and her eyes would almost close. She'd tip her head back ever-so-slightly and savor the aroma. Then she would smile so very gently, her lips parting just a fraction, as if she was thinking about licking them. Sometimes she'd say something to him, telling him how good it smelled in here, but more often she wouldn't. Nabiki didn't like to repeat herself, and she didn't like to seem too predictable. But that moment, that tiny smile and the tilt of her head... that was something she did every time. Konatsu was certain she didn't even realize it. It was a sublime moment of joy that only he could create, and that smile she wore was his alone to cherish. Konatsu floated through the weekends on a cloud of bliss, and nobody else knew why. The young ninja chef's romantic musings met with a sudden, jarring interruption as a figure burst through the door of the restaurant. "Excuse me, sir!" Konatsu called. "We aren't open yet." The young man was tall and athletically trim, dressed in expensive, bright clothes which were a few small steps away from being gaudy. He was immaculately groomed, but he had the eyes of a hunted animal. "Quickly!" he gasped in a shaky voice. "You must hide me!" "Sir?" He cast about the restaurant desperately for some place to cower. "They're after me!" he groaned, his voice tinged with panic. "I have to hide!" "Who's after you, sir?" Konatsu asked with concern. >From out in the street, Konatsu heard the sound of distant peals of laughter, growing steadily closer. "NO!" the young man howled. "AAAARGH!" With that, he lunged forward, vaulting over the counter and griddle. "Sir! Please!" Konatsu cried in futile protest. The young man curled himself up into a fetal ball and shivered in the corner. "Don't let them find me!" he whispered piteously. Before Konatsu could decide how to react, two more figures bounded through the door of the restaurant. "Mikado-sama? My beloved? Are you here?" The girl who spoke was clad in a dark leotard emblazoned with rose designs, her thick, wavy hair bound into a ponytail by a red ribbon. Konatsu recognized her, mostly by reputation. Ukyou had made no secret of her feelings about the "cackling nutcase" who often "followed Ranchan around like a rabid dog." She had been fond of invoking adjectives such as "demented," "arrogant," and "diseased" when referring to her rival, Kunou Kodachi. The other girl, though, was a stranger. She was small, delicately built, and cute to a nearly unbearable degree. Her outfit was similar to Kodachi's, but where her partner wore blacks and reds, this girl adorned herself with an eye-shattering array of pink, gold, lavender, and powder blue. Her eyes glittered like rhinestones as they zeroed in on the spatula in Konatsu's hand. "That spatula is so CUTE!" she shrieked. "Flaubert! Flau..." The little blow-dried terror made as if to lunge forward, but Kodachi intercepted her with a raised hand. "Azusa-chan," she commanded in a stern voice. "Dear girl, WHAT have I told you about that?" Azusa clasped her tiny hands together and looked up at Kodachi with trembling lips. "But... but... Flaubert! I want... I want..." "If you want it," Kodachi instructed in a patient tone, "then you need but ask, as I have taught you." The curly-haired moppet's eyes lit up with joy. "Right! I remember!" "Very well," Kodachi said. "Try again." Azusa planted her hands on her hips and tossed her head proudly. "You there, peasant girl! I demand that you render that spatula as a gift to me, your rightful superior! TEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!" Azusa's squeals of mirth rattled the glass in the windows. Kodachi joined in with her own radar-jamming laughter, sending the neighborhood cats howling away in sheer terror. Konatsu wobbled dizzily and leaned on the counter for support. He held out the spatula in an unsteady hand. "All yours," he wheezed. Azusa flounced forward gleefully and claimed her prize. Kodachi gestured boldly to catch the young chef's attention. "Is this place," she asked, glancing about, "an okonomiyaki restaurant?" "Yes, ma'am," Konatsu replied, his ears still ringing. The gymnast grimaced elegantly. "How dreadful." "We're not open, though," the kunoichi added. "Never mind that, laborer," the self-styled Black Rose insisted. "Has the most dashing, gorgeous, handsome gentleman in the world graced this lowly gruel-kitchen with his majestic presence today?" "Er... no," Konatsu answered truthfully. "Widdle Azusa was SURE she saw hims run down this street," Azusa commented as she lovingly wrapped a little pink ribbon around Flaubert. Kodachi gazed longingly into space. "Oh, my beloved Mikado-sama! Your loving kiss has awakened passions in me I never dreamed existed. How long must I wait until you take me in your arms again?" "I though you were after Ranma-san," Konatsu blurted out without thinking. "Oh Ranma-sama!" Kodachi crooned, fixing her gaze to another random point on the ceiling. "How naive was I when I loved you! I was but a sweet, innocent maiden, swept away in the strong arms of a beautiful young boy. Yet that girl has become a woman, with a woman's heart and a woman's needs. I fear a boy is no longer enough, and now I must have the virility of a true man!" >From behind the counter, Mikado made a strangling noise. "What was that?" Kodachi asked sharply. "Uh, I was just thinking," Konatsu said quickly. "What will Ranma-san say about this when he gets back?" Kodachi clutched a hand to her chest. "You are right, of course. My darling Ranma-sama will be consumed with the fires of jealousy at the thought of another man laying hands upon the treasure which is his by right! Oh, the raw, primitive muscle of Saotome Ranma! The polished, handsome manliness of Sanzenin Mikado! Whichever shall I choose?" "You must have them both!" Azusa chimed. Kodachi shook her head sadly. "Such feeble-minded indecision is what keeps my brother so pitifully paralyzed. No, the Black Rose will have none of that." She looked up, her eyes flashing, and gestured skyward. "They will simply have to fight to the death over me! OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" "TEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!" The very foundations of Ucchan's groaned in protest. Blackness crept in around the edges of Konatsu's world. He whimpered softly. "Well, we must continue our search," Kodachi announced. Konatsu offered a silent and thoroughly sincere prayer of gratitude. "If I see Sanzenin-san, I'll tell him you were here." "See that you do!" the imperious gymnast replied. "I find you peddlers of okonomiyaki to be notoriously untrustworthy. Come, Azusa!" "Where the Black Rose goes, the Widdle Pink Pansy follows!" cried the small girl gleefully as she pranced out the door. Konatsu watched them depart, feeling a profound sense of relief. After he was certain they were at a safe enough distance, he peered down to the shuddering figure curled up behind the counter. "They're gone now. Are you Sanzenin-san?" The lanky youth unfolded himself from his fetal posture and shot a few furtive glances over the countertop. Once he was satisfied the coast was clear, he rose to his feet with a passable semblance of dignity. "Yes," he said as he produced a comb and began to groom his hair back into place. "You've heard of me, perhaps?" "No," Konatsu informed him. "But I just promised your girlfriend I'd tell you she was here." Mikado shuddered. "That... is not my girlfriend. Please don't believe the things she was babbling. The woman is completely aberrant." Konatsu scratched his head. "But she seemed to be saying that you two had kissed. Doesn't that mean...?" The handsome skater touched his forehead with the tips of his fingers and sighed. "It was but a simple apology for my clumsiness. I accidentally bumped into her in a coffee shop and made her spill her drink. On such insignificant adventures do a man's fate hinge! But, as a gentleman, what other recourse did I have but to make amends?" "And this involved kissing her?" He nodded. "What other gesture would be sufficient? Had I but known! I realized the kiss of Sanzenin Mikado is a thing of great power, but I never guessed it could drive a woman to such extremes of passion! If only she were not so... er..." "Spooky?" Konatsu suggested. "Obsessive," Mikado continued. "She won't accept that it was but a fleeting moment of bliss! Now, she follows me everywhere I go. What did I do to deserve such a cruel fate?" "And the other one?" Konatsu asked. "The little girl with all the pink and stuff?" "My skating partner," Mikado explained. "Perhaps you've heard of the Golden Pair of Kolkhoz High School?" Konatsu shrugged. "Sorry." Mikado looked somewhat put out, but continued nonetheless. "Shortly after she started hounding me, Miss Kunou adopted my partner as... an apprentice of sorts, I suppose. She seems bent on completely corrupting the poor innocent girl's mind. I'm sure it's just another ploy by which to seeks to ensnare me. She has made a ruin of my life!" the tall boy cried in anguish. "I'm very sorry to hear that," Konatsu said. He turned and deftly flipped the salmon strips off the grill, thankful that they hadn't gotten burned during the whole mess. "But come," Mikado said, his voice changing abruptly to a more sultry tone. "I should not be bothering you with my petty troubles. I have yet to thank you for providing me sanctuary in my time of need." "Oh, that's really all right..." Konatsu began as he began to lay the second batch of fish onto the griddle. He was rather surprised to feel strong hands clasp him by the shoulders and pivot him until he was face-to-face with the puckering Sanzenin Mikado. "Let me offer this token of my deep gratitude," the skater whispered, closing his eyes and bending forward towards Konatsu's lips. Konatsu hadn't trained in the deadly and mysterious arts of the kunoichi for nothing. His eyes flickered to the cutting board where he'd been slicing the ingredients for this morning's cooking. The weapon he needed was easily within his grasp. In a lightning quick gesture, he reached out to the counter and snatched a salmon head, then pressed its gaping mouth firmly against Mikado's seeking lips. The kiss ended with a vaguely slimy pop. Mikado pulled back with great dignity and dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. Konatsu quickly hid the fish head behind his back before the skater opened his eyes again. The tall boy's smile hadn't wavered, but his left eyebrow was quivering slightly. "My dear," Mikado said. "You are indeed one of the loveliest maidens I have ever had the joy to behold. But I am sorry to say, yours was the worst kiss that I have ever experienced." "My deepest apologies," Konatsu said with a bow. "Never mind," the skater said with a wave of his hand. "Is there a back door to this establishment?" Konatsu gestured behind him. "Back that way. Right next to the supply closet." "Then I must be gone, before that harpy returns. Farewell, pretty cook of the clammy lips!" He saluted her with a flick of the wrist and strode rapidly towards the back door. Konatsu pivoted to watch him go. He was so distracted by watching the strange, hunted young man leave that he didn't notice the sound of Nabiki coming through the front entrance. "Hey, Konatsu," she called. "Na... Nabiki-san!" He whirled, but it was too late. She'd already caught the aroma, and her moment of pleasure had come and gone. Konatsu's heart sank - how could he let himself have missed her smile? "Anything interesting happen this morning?" Nabiki asked conversationally as she tied her apron into place. For a moment, Konatsu didn't have the slightest idea what to say. - - - - - - The phone picked up on mid ring. Kasumi's voice was a bit blurred by the static - the phone lines out here in the Chinese countryside weren't in the greatest condition - but Akane could hear her well enough. "Tendou residence." "Hey, sis! It's me." "Oh, Akane!" Kasumi said. "How are you doing?" "I'm fine," she said. "Just figured I'd call in while I've got the chance. I'm getting into farmlands and stuff. How are things going?" "Just fine," her elder sister assured her. "In fact, I'm entertaining some guests right now. Do you remember Daimonji-san and his wife?" Akane thought about that for a moment. "Oh wait a sec... you mean Sentaro and Satsuki, from that tea ceremony place? Yeah, I remember them. What are they doing over?" "Oh, I've kept in touch," Kasumi explained. "I do like to do the tea ceremony, you know, though I'm not so keen at their particular style." Akane grinned. The Martial-Arts Tea Ceremony style was a particularly lame brand of esoteric combat, but even that would be well beyond Kasumi. Her eldest sister did perform an excellent conventional tea ceremony, of course. "Anyway," Kasumi continued, "they're going to a tournament, so I've agreed to babysit Miss Sanae." "Wait... their pet monkey?" Akane asked incredulously. "Sis, are you sure it's such a good idea to have a monkey around the house?" "Oh no," Kasumi said. "Akane, you must realize that Miss Sanae is a chimpanzee. That means she's an ape, not a monkey." "Uh... I see." "In any case, shall I get out the map? I can help you find the most direct route towards where Ranma is now." "I'm not going to see Ranma just yet," Akane said. "It's like I said - I'm going to the Amazon village." Kasumi was silent on the line for a while. "Akane, are you sure that's such a good idea? Ranma is all alone now." "I know that, sis. I won't take long. I have to do this first, though." "But you trained so hard to go," Kasumi protested. "I don't understand why you're putting it off now. Please, be honest with me, Akane - are you afraid to see Ranma again?" "No!" she said. "No, that's not it at all! I'd give anything to be with him right now, Kasumi, you have to believe that. But it won't do any good if I just go charging in without a plan." "But your training..." "Sis, I trained so hard because I may need to fight the Reikoku. I really believe I can beat it now... once, anyway. Maybe twice. But that's all. If I just go in like Ukyou did and throw myself at the monster, all it's going to do is get me killed." "You have to have faith in Ranma," Kasumi said. "You know he fights hardest when he's protecting you." Akane closed her eyes and sighed. "You're right, sis. But that may not be enough. Elder Cologne said she wanted to see me. That means she might help me make a plan. I can't pass that up, no matter how much I want to go to Ranma right now. Okay?" "I understand," Kasumi said. "I'm sorry, Akane... I know you've thought all this out. I'm just so worried about you both. I want you to come home." "We will," Akane told her, her voice full of resolve. "I swear it. We will." - - - - - - Ranma knelt next to the stooped old woman, speaking loudly to compensate for her failing ears. "That's him?" he asked, pointing to the person in question in case the lady's piecemeal command of Japanese wasn't sufficient for understanding. The old woman nodded slowly. "You sure?" Ranma asked. "That's the guy who stole your family's underwear?" The withered lady nodded again. Ranma stood up and crossed his arms, studying the panty thief critically. "Well," he announced to nobody in particular, "it sure ain't Happosai." The individual in question had aped his master's tastes in thievery masks, with a dark grey strip of cloth tied in a knot under his nose, but there all visible similarities to the old lecher ended. The apprentice pervert stood head and shoulders taller than Ranma, a flesh monolith of rippling muscle with a frame like a grizzly bear. Apart from the mask, he was dressed fairly simply in pants and vest, with the most distinctive element of his attire being his colossal necklace of prayer beads. The necklace hung to his waist, and each black globe was almost as large as a bowling ball. The heavy, thudding sound they made when they shifted told Ranma that they were certainly not hollow. A normal man probably couldn't lift those beads, much less wear them around his neck. Ranma was not impressed. A martial artist that ludicrously over-muscled was almost assured to be a sadly one-dimensional fighter. The old geezer sure wasn't being very picky with his potential recruits. According to what Ranma had learned from the local townsfolk, this big poser had thumped his way into their modest village a few weeks ago, claiming that he was on a warrior's pilgrimage to enhance his skills. They'd welcomed him politely enough until it became clear that the skills he was honing involved the wholesale theft of every woman's undergarment he could find. He was a pitiful thief - always thundering around like a bull, smashing through walls and toppling furniture in his wake during every futile attempt at stealth - but he was so huge and powerful that nobody in town dared to face him. It was purely by accident that Ranma had stumbled across this trainee of Happosai during his flight from the Reikoku, but now that he was here, he figured he'd better take care of this bully. Besides, there was always a chance this guy knew something about where Happosai had gone. In any case, it was still a good chance to beat up a jerk. At the moment, the huge thief hadn't even noticed Ranma, so busy was he counting and sorting his ill-gotten booty by the side of the road. Ranma picked up a good-sized chunk of gravel, tossed it in the air once, then bounced it off the giant's ear. "//WHO DARES!//" boomed the immense fighter in Chinese, whirling to face Ranma. The old woman skittered to a safe distance, where a crowd was already beginning to form. "Yo," Ranma said by way of introduction. "The name's Saotome Ranma." "Eh?" the vast warrior said. To Ranma's surprise, he began to speak very respectable Japanese. "Wait... I know that name!" Ranma thought. "Look," he said quickly. "I don't care what that stupid old pervert told you about me. All I want is for you to quit bothering these people and tell me where I can find that senile little mutant. Cooperate, and you won't get hurt." The warrior drew up to his full height, filling his cavernous lungs and glaring at Ranma. "You DARE speak of my master in such a disrespectful fashion? The great Gaira will not stand for that!" "I figured as much," Ranma said with a grin. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way." "Fool!" Gaira thundered. "You will regret your insolence. I am NOT a man to be reckoned with!" Ranma snorted in amusement. "You can say that again, pal." Gaira peered in the air, thinking back over what he'd just said. "AARGH! I mean I AM a man to be reckoned with. I am NOT a man to be trifled with! Damn it, I messed it up AGAIN!" The pig-tailed martial artist just rolled his eyes. "Look, shut up and fight before you embarrass yourself even more, okay?" "Take THIS!" the mammoth fighter bellowed. He charged Ranma in a painfully predictable fashion, hoping to bowl his smaller foe over with a shoulder check and trample him underfoot. Ranma had time for a theatrical yawn before he dropped down and away from the impact, catching the massive man's feet with a precise sweep kick as he thundered by. Gaira stumbled forward, losing his balance and sprawling to the ground in a tangle of trunk-like limbs and clattering prayer beads. Ranma sauntered over casually to where his adversary had fallen. "You still wanna go through with this?" Gaira rose ponderously to his feet, burning with rage. "So... I underestimated you," he rumbled. One meaty hand clutched his prayer bead necklace. "I guess I'll have to unleash a fraction of my mere might!" "Man, you have no idea how lame you sound," Ranma observed. Gaira's response was a bestial snarl as he whipped off his necklace and used it to lash out at Ranma. The speed of the attack caught Ranma by surprise, and he was almost too late to dodge the brutally massive weapon. He backpedaled and ducked frantically as Gaira twisted and swirled his beads in a dizzying pattern. The reports of the immense stone spheres smashing together as Gaira hurled them in arcs of pulverizing fury echoed like gunshots around Ranma's head, unnerving and disorienting him. He dodged by reflex alone, ducking and contorting his way out of the erratic path of the fearsome weapon, rolling and leaping to save his skin, lashing out and... The thunderous din of Gaira's attack suddenly changed, punctuated by a single sharp hiss. The necklace flew apart, whistling out of Gaira's hands in a crazy mass of loose beads and thick cord. The villagers in the crowd dove for cover as heavy globes of stone sprayed down the street. Ranma was as surprised as Gaira, but he'd seen what happened. On instinct, as he'd dodged, he'd lashed out with a hand and split one of the heavy beads clean down the middle, without even touching it. The stone of the destroyed globe was smooth as mirror-glass where he'd slashed it in half. he though. There was no other explanation. And now, finally, he understood. The reason he'd never been able to duplicate these freak resurgences of the Neko-ken in his practice sessions was because he'd been thinking too hard. The Neko-ken surfaced when he was operating on instinct, when he WASN'T thinking about what he was doing and his body's reflexes took over. When he'd been chopping wood, the task was so simple and repetitive that he'd started to run on autopilot, and the Neko-ken had kicked in. But this time... This time, he'd been trusting his reflexes in hard combat, and the cat-like powers of the Neko-ken had taken over. This was unexpected, and potentially very dangerous. The whole point of martial arts training was to try to transcend normal conscious control of every movement, to train your body until it though and fought in combat on instinct, with techniques and moves coming as naturally as breathing. Conscious thought was for strategy and analysis - it was much too slow for governing the continuous moves of a battle at the level of skill Ranma had attained. But now, he couldn't allow himself to fight like that. This time, he'd cut his foe's weapon in half. What happened when he struck flesh? What if, for instance, the Neko-ken became active while he was using the Chestnut Fist attack? His foe could be maimed or even killed. On the other hand, if he tried to keep rigid control over himself as he fought, he'd be working at only a fraction of his normal speed. This Gaira was a total washout when it came to banter, but his martial arts skills were a lot better than Ranma had given him credit for. Even unarmed, he was too dangerous. Ranma couldn't afford to get injured now, not with the Reikoku somewhere back there on his trail. Gaira seemed to have recovered from the unexpected loss of his weapon and charged Ranma again. This time, the big man came in under control, hoping to snare Ranma in his groping hands. The Japanese youth danced out of the way, still considering his strategy. "You little fool!" Gaira howled. "I'll beat you into insects!" Ranma thought, Ranma took a high vaulting leap away from his foe, then struck a pose with his left arm extended and his right hand pulled to his chest in a fist. "Okay, big boy. You asked for it. Prepare to face the Art of the One-Man Dragon!" Gaira spat contemptuously. "Feh. Never heard of it." He advanced towards his foe with the deliberate inevitability of continental drift. Ranma waited until the giant was close, almost in range to reach out and grasp him in a meaty fist, and then he kicked off with one foot. His pirouettes were so fast that he seemed to vanish into a spinning blur. His aura flared hot around his left hand as he pulled it inwards, describing a tight spiral towards his own body. The glowing trace of his aura wound about him like a white-hot thread. A moment later, he broke his spin, thrusting his right hand into a powerful uppercut. "ONE-MAN DRAGON ASCENSION!" he shouted. The resulting whirlwind tossed the surprised Gaira into the air, battering him with its devastating fury. His chunky form hurtled up and away, twisting through the sky until the miniature tornado tossed him clear and sent him plummeting to the earth. Ranma watched with satisfaction. That was the simplest of his new techniques - it was basically the Hiryuu Shoten-ha performed solo. By concentrating his hot aura on one hand and his cold aura on the other, he could create the same effect of an explosive energy whirlwind. It wasn't quite as powerful as the true Hiryuu Shoten-ha, but it was a LOT more practical. Gaira wasn't out, but he was staggered. This was fine by Ranma - he had a few more techniques he wanted to test on a live target, and this overstuffed panty-raider looked like he could soak up a lot of punishment. "DRAGON-CLAW STORMS!" Ranma shouted, and began his next attack. He swept his hands in front of him in a series of super-quick crisscrossing patterns. With each pass, a tight disc of wind streaked forth towards his foe, each about a meter in radius. Gaira stumbled back as each whirling bolt struck home, trying vainly to cover up with his arms. These attacks weren't individually that strong, but Ranma could snap off a dozen or so in about a second. He'd learned through experimentation that he could adjust the relative temperature in each hand to make the discs hot so they seared their target on impact, or cold so they stung with a fast-moving spray of tiny ice crystals when they hit. He'd opted for the ice variant on Gaira. he observed with pleasure. The tighter he could make his spiraling missiles, the better they'd hold together over distance. It was just a matter of practice. He could probably have finished Gaira off with a continuous bombardment, but he had one more technique he really wanted to try. "Saotome School One-Man Dragon finishing technique," he announced. "HUNDRED-HEADED DRAGON ATTACK!" Ranma planted his feet and concentrated on mustering as much high-octane speed as he could manage. At blazing Amaguriken velocity, he traced a spiral in front of him with his searing-hot left hand, then punched through the spiral's center with a freezing right jab. By the time his right hand pulled back, his left was already describing its next spiral. Each time he performed this action, a tight rope of furious wind writhed forth, snaking and twisting towards its target. These wind lances glowed with his own battle aura, even more so than the surging hurricane of the Hiryuu Shoten-ha. They were extensions of his will, lashing and twisting fists he could guide to hammer his adversary. He bent the full measure of his concentration towards battering the hapless Gaira. The first funnel of wind struck the muscle-bound warrior in the chest, rocking him back on his heels. Each new vortex Ranma launched impacted with greater force, combining its power with the previous attacks. Soon, the dragon winds lifted Gaira off his feet, smashing him with devastating force, driving him into the ground on the head of a horizontal tornado. The warrior's massive body plowed a deep trench in the earth as the force of Ranma's attack battered him with its howling fury. Finally, Ranma broke off, letting the winds die down. He panted from exertion - that last attack took a lot of speed and control, but it was far more focused than the Hiryuu Shoten-ha, and a hell of a lot more powerful than the Moko-Takabisha. And he hadn't even taken it to its full potential, for fear of causing permanent harm to his foe. he thought, looking back along the path he'd traveled to reach town. He was only dimly aware of the cheers of appreciation from the villagers around him. Ranma's mind was on his implacable pursuer, shuffling relentlessly towards him somewhere out there, its three red eyes burning bright against the ghastly void beneath its hood. - - - - - - end of part twelve... ----------------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR'S NOTES ----------------------------------------------------------- Gaira isn't a Ranma 1/2 cast member - he's ripped off from the Samurai Showdown video game series. I just kind of needed a punching bag for Ranma this time around. He is but one of the two gratuitous references to that particular video game in this chapter. One of the bummers in writing "Relentless" is that the plot didn't really call for much of Kodachi the Black Rose, who is one of the most amusing characters in the whole cast. I was glad that I finally found a place for her. COMING SOON: Akane reaches the Amazon village, while Ranma continues to make his way alone through the countryside of China. How long can he stay ahead of the Reikoku? Will his new techniques be enough to withstand it? Meanwhile, Ukyou and Ryouga strike out in pursuit of Happosai, on a desperate errand to find out where the Reikoku came from, and how to stop it. REVISION NOTES: Not much. COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko,and are licensed in America by Viz Communications. GRT - May 2000 MODIFIED - April 2005 thunderstruck_comic@comcast.net All existing chapters of this story may be found at: http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless