========================= RELENTLESS A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction By Grayson Towler ========================= ----------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Confidence Games ----------------------------------------------------------- Akane sipped the pungent tea and grimaced, wondering if they always made it this bitter in the Amazon village or if they had brewed this mix especially for her. she thought, observing once again how the young women of the village deliberately ignored her as much as possible. At least they weren't trying to kill her. She fidgeted, weary from the all-night discussion she'd had with Elder Cologne but unwilling to hang around and rest. She wanted to get on the road, to find Ranma. She acutely felt each second as it ticked away. "Tendou Akane." She turned, slightly surprised at the sound of the familiar voice simply because it was the first male who'd spoken to her since she arrived. "Mousse!" she said, setting down the nasty tea. "How are you?" The bespectacled fighter approached her with quiet composure, his hands hidden in the deep folds of his white sleeves. "There is something I would ask of you," he said in a quiet tone. "S... sure," she stammered. She was still a little bit anxious around Mousse, in the aftermath of her fight with Shampoo. He hadn't shown her anything but courtesy, but she couldn't help but be concerned that he would hold it against her that she had beaten his lady love, forcing Shampoo by Amazon law into a year of shame and servitude. "What do you need?" "I need..." said Mousse, "I need..." "Yes?" "I need you to wear this!" he whispered urgently. His hands moved in a blur, and from the folds of his sleeves he produced an immense and utterly hideous hat. The floppy yellow brim was almost expansive enough to be an umbrella, but even so the hat was nearly as tall as it was wide. Fruits and flowers erupted in plumes from the center, interwoven crazily with tacky ribbons of all colors. Perched on top of this eye- torturing confection was the centerpiece of the hat - a stuffed white duck. Akane shied away from the vile headgear. "Uh..." "Here's my plan," Mousse announced, whipping forth a flip-pad from his robe. "First, you wear the hat, travel around the village, and be noticed." In his first sketch, a crudely drawn Akane (very crudely, to her mind - the vacant eyes and the stumpy legs were a bit much) was wandering amongst various Amazons, who Mousse had depicted in the grips of giggling fits while they pointed to her hat. "Don't worry, it will seem perfectly natural. The women of the village already know that you have no sense of fashion." "And who told them THAT?" she demanded. The Hidden Weapons fighter ignored the question, instead flipping to the next page of his diagram. "Then, you get spotted in the same place as me." A handsomely-drawn Mousse stood next to the dumpy Akane image on this page. She thought the shine-sparkles and the admiring Amazons he'd drawn were somewhat less than realistic. "This will throw them off the trail." "Uh... look, Mousse..." "Then," he interrupted, snapping the next page into place, "you go to this outhouse - the one on the farthest edge of the village." The Akane in the image had been drawn walking with a pained look on her face, struggling along like a toddler still in potty training. She seethed at this latest unflattering sketch. "If you want someone to help you," she grumbled, "you could at least TRY to be nice to them..." In response, Mousse flipped over to the next page. "I'll meet you there, in disguise as a duck. At that point, you switch the stuffed duck on your hat with me." He pointed at the illustration, then flipped to the last page. A waddling Akane and a graceful, statuesque Shampoo were drawn traveling down the road. Heart-shaped bubbles swirled around the Amazon girl, while Akane struggled under the immense hat topped by a very pleased-looking duck. "Once you leave the village, I will be able to travel with you in secrecy. I'll be able to keep my eye on Shampoo, making sure that if she gets into trouble, I'll be there to swoop in and save her in the nick of time!" Akane folded her arms. "This is your plan?" "It's perfect!" Mousse exclaimed, holding aloft the flip-book in triumph. "Nothing can possibly go wrong!" At which moment, the gnarled end of an old walking stick shot up from behind him and rapped him sharply on the skull, rendering him immediately unconscious. He crumpled in a boneless heap, revealing to Akane the forms of Cologne and Shampoo when he fell. The young and old Amazon women regarded the inert boy with a mixture of resignation and annoyance. As irritating as Mousse often was, Akane couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him, as she watched the Amazons trample him like a doormat when they walked toward her. "Um," she hazarded, wondering if this was a mistake, "we could take him with us, you know." "Out of the question, dear," Cologne said primly. "He's a pretty good fighter," she pointed out. "And now that Shampoo isn't engaged... er... to Ranma," she fidgeted a bit, "... then he wouldn't have any reason to hold a grudge, right?" The old woman studied her curiously. "Is there some reason you want him along?" Akane searched her own feelings, and found the answer floating very close to the surface. "Well... I know how it is to be left behind, when the person you care about is going into danger. It's hard... that's all." The Amazon matriarch made a little humming noise. "Be that as it may, sometimes it is for the best. Ranma was right to leave you behind when he fled the Reikoku, girl. You were in no shape to make such a journey." She thumped Mousse's unconscious form with her staff. "Nor is he. His skills may be..." she ground her teeth, "... somewhat better than mediocre, I'll grant, but he would still only be in your way." Akane shrugged. "If you say so," she said. She thought the old woman was too hard on Mousse, but maybe she had a point. Mousse could be a bit of a moron. "Besides," the ancient Amazon continued, "You know what you will have to do to help Ranma. Do you really want Mousse around for that?" The Tendou girl felt a flush rising in her face. "Well... no," she admitted. Her gaze drifted to Shampoo, and she fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm not so sure it'll be such a good idea... to have anybody else there." She and Shampoo and old Cologne had stayed up all last night discussing a plan to help Ranma, should he have no choice but to face the fourth incarnation of the Reikoku. While the notion that the old woman had proposed seemed sound to her, and actually made her more hopeful than she had been for a long time that Ranma would really make it, the plan would require her to do some things that were... a bit embarrassing. Going through with it would take a lot of her nerve, and she felt anxious about having Shampoo on hand to witness, and possibly to interfere... The old woman seemed to have read her thoughts. "Have no fear, Tendou Akane," she assured her in a creaky voice. "Shampoo is far wiser than you give her credit for. She is a daughter of the Amazons before all other things, and will not fail in her task. Right, my dear?" Akane's former rival bowed her shaved head. "No worry about Shampoo," she said in that subdued tone she had adopted in her shamed state. "Will keep promise. Will help Ranma and you." "Well..." "If I'm right," Cologne cut in, "Ranma will need help defeating the third form of the Reikoku as well. This is help that only Shampoo can provide, I think." "Only Shampoo?" Akane looked doubtful. "What does that mean?" "No time now," the old woman insisted. "Winter is coming, and you must not tarry in finding Ranma if he is to survive this season. The Reikoku is not hindered by dark or cold as humans are. Now hurry. Gather your belongings and make ready to leave. There is no more time to talk." - - - - - When you get to be very, very old, forgetfulness can be a sort of blessing. Happosai wasn't going senile, or at least he was fairly certain that he wasn't. His mind was as sharp as it had always been, its cunning edge becoming finer with the passage of time. He thoroughly expected to maintain an active mind and body up until the day he died, which he predicted would be at least another century in the future. But a certain selective forgetfulness was a real boon for a man like him. For one, it helped keep his pleasures fresh. He had known many a younger man to shake his head and wonder how someone could find the exercise of stealing underwear and peeping on women to hold its savor after so many decades. Happosai's secret was to not linger on the past, whether it held triumphs or failures. Each day's events were written on sand, wiped clean by the waves of time. Happosai lived in the moment, relishing the pleasures of each act of debauchery as if he had never experienced them before. Of course, there were other reasons why it was helpful to forget. Happosai was a parasite, and he knew it. He had long devoted himself to a brand of martial arts which allowed him to pull energy off another - a woman, it had to be - and nourish himself. The drawback was that once he became good at doing that, he was hooked. Happosai was not just a pervert, he was a perversion junkie. So thorough was his addiction that any act of decency or kindness he might show to another caused him to suffer violent seizures of withdrawal. He had to devote himself to being rotten just to keep going. Which was something of a pity, because appearances to the contrary, Happosai was not rotten to the core. A desire could surface in him at the most inconvenient times, an impulse to do good or to be kind. It was something he could not entirely suppress, especially when there were children involved. And as much as he hated to admit it, there was a point past which he did not enjoy seeing others suffer. He never grew tired of petty, juvenile torments, but he also got no pleasure from causing others genuine, lasting pain. When one spends one's life on the path of the pervert, though, it is inevitable that one will sometimes cross that line. Sometimes when that happened, he could tell himself that he'd been acting for the long-term good of the victim, toughening them up for the future, like when he had inflicted the Ultimate Weakness Moxibustion on Ranma. Sometimes he felt that the target of his malice brought their pain upon themselves, like Pantyhose Tarou and his refusal to accept what was a perfectly good name. But not even Happosai could rationalize away what he'd done when he had set the Reikoku after Saotome Ranma. Which was why it was good to know how to forget. Besides, he was doing his best to honor Ranma's memory. The boy was certainly dead by now, unfortunately, and the atrophied thing that was Happosai's conscience wouldn't let him forget that entirely. So as he traveled through China, seeking new apprentices and new pleasures, he made sure that the legend of Saotome Ranma and his adventures in Nerima was spread far and wide. After all, Ranma would have wanted it that way. Best to stay in China for the time being. Best not to go back to Nerima for now. Genma and Soun would assuredly still be steamed, but he could handle them. They'd get over it. Genma could even get back together with that hottie of a wife of his now that the threat of seppuku no longer hung between them, maybe have another baby, raise it right this time. Soun would find that he was better off without so many freeloaders slouching around his house. Happosai could deal with the two of them. But when he thought about Nerima, in his mind's eye he saw the face of Tendou Akane. It was a picture he blocked out with all his might whenever it rose, unbidden, to haunt his dreams. To see it in person, to have such sadness burned into his eyes... even a master of debauchery has his limits. The secret to handling unpleasant realities was to set them aside and enjoy yourself. Happosai was enjoying his stay in China, especially the opportunity to start afresh with a whole new school of martial arts. Now that he had relinquished his title of Master of the Anything-Goes school he had created, he had a chance to start at square one and do it all over again. This time, he would make it even better than before. He was older, wiser, more skilled, and even more corrupt than he had been when he had founded the Anything-Goes style. This was a chance to learn from all his past mistakes and make a new school worthy of legend. The trick was to find the right students. That was where he felt he'd gone wrong the first time around, quite frankly. Genma and Soun had seemed so promising at first, but somewhere along the way they'd cracked under strain. Saotome had become a coward, and Tendou had become a crybaby. Disappointing, really. Thus far, none of the prospective pupils he'd encountered in China had measured up to his demanding standards. He was searching for that perfect blend, a student with an exquisite balance of physical potential and moral bankruptcy. He needed to find a young mind which would twist and warp under his tutelage, but not break. Difficult... difficult... This little town, he decided, was probably a wash-out. He had let word get around that a wise master was seeking pupils, but thus far nobody of interest had responded to his call. Nor had any serious opposition emerged to confront him in his panty-stealing raids. That was fine - he could still avail himself to his usual pleasures and move on when he had taken all he wanted. he thought as he cleared a fence and spied a bright patch of pink fluttering on a clothesline. Silk, by the look of it, and a perfect fit for a tender young girl. He changed his trajectory and leaped with grasping hands. Something blurred past him just before he reached his prize, a black shape moving almost too fast for the eye to see. Happosai blinked his bulbous eyes, and saw that the pink nightie had vanished. Somebody had stolen his treasure. Happosai's battle aura began to simmer. He managed to bank off the a low brick wall and just catch sight of the retreating figure as it disappeared behind another house. Seconds later, even as he was accelerating to catch up, he heard the distinctive shriek of a woman whose underwear had just been snatched right out from under her nose. he thought, teeth grinding in righteous rage. Happosai accepted no equal when it came to navigating rooftops and slipping from yard to yard, but this young fellow, whoever it was, was giving him a run for his money. At first he only caught glimpses of the black-clad figure, hair tied back in a long, Chinese-style braid, features hidden by a mask almost identical to the one Happosai wore himself. The stranger moved with the grace of a cat, barely rustling a blade of grass as he made his sure-footed way through the shadows of the town. Happosai thought. But not good enough, of course. Happosai ricocheted off a wall like a stray bullet and sped towards the opening of an alley, the perfect place to cut this interloper off and see him face to face... As he skidded to a stop, Happosai was surprised to find the boy on his knees in a respectful bow, head tucked low, a heaping stack of women's undergarments held forth in his hands as an offering. The lad spoke in fluent Japanese to the withered martial artist, "A gift for you, my master." The old man blinked his tangerine-sized eyeballs, momentarily stunned. Then instinct kicked in, and he snatched the loot from the boy's hands, greedily stuffing the silky articles into his swag bag. "Hmmph. Yes," he croaked. "Yes, so that's it, is it? You were looking for me." The boy still kept his head lowered in reverence, but his posture was not totally submissive. Still had enough cockiness to only take one knee, for instance. That was good, that showed spirit. "Word of your achievements has spread far and wide, venerable one. Such talk inevitably finds its way to the ears of one such as I." "Mm, so. Not Chinese, are you?" "No, my master," the boy agreed. Happosai lit his pipe and jabbed the air with it. "Not too fast with this 'my master' talk, sonny-boy." The boy tilted his head up very slightly. "You are looking for students, aren't you?" "Sure, sure," the old man agreed. "You heard that much right. But I don't plan on taking just anybody, see. You got to have the chops to cut it as my student." He fingered one of the bras that the boy had collected for a moment. "This is a good start, but a lot of guys out there can steal." "You are looking for more than just a run-of-the-mill pervert, then," the young stranger guessed. "Exactly," Happosai agreed. "I'm looking for an artist, boy." The youth kept his face mostly in shadow, but Happosai thought he could see the faint hint of a smile. "Then permit me to prove my worth to you, revered one." The ancient reprobate crossed his miniscule arms and scrutinized the lad. "Oh? You sound like you have something in mind." "Indeed. If I may?" Happosai made a magnanimous gesture with his hand. "Go on, kiddo. I'm listening." "My thanks," he said, inclining his head slightly. This one knew how to show respect to his elders, at least. That was a nice change of pace. "In this village, there is a woman of surpassing beauty. Skin as smooth as imperial silk, eyes like a yearling doe, luxurious hair that flows to her waist." Inside Happosai's tiny chest, a heart like a fossilized prune began to thump faster. "Yeah? How old?" "Young and tender, great master," the youth whispered. "Only recently has she blossomed into womanhood, and the flowing curves of her body are still new and wondrous to even her own touch. She is an innocent girl who still has no idea that she now possesses the body of a sensuous woman." Happosai made a show of rubbing his chin as if in thought, trying to conceal the fact that he was wiping away drool from his mouth. "You don't say?" "Her parents keep her secreted from the rest of the villagers," the boy explained. "As you may well imagine." "Secreted. Yes, yes." That was always the way, wasn't it? The best things were always to be found in secret places. "Yet there is a hot spring where this young girl goes to bathe," the boy told Happosai. "In the dead of night, up on the mountainside, deep in a crystalline cave where none can see her. But I have learned where... and when." Happosai closed his eyes and tapped his foot, pretending to think this over. Best not to let a youngster like this one get too cocky. Still, this sounded too good to pass up. "Okay, boy. Let's go have a look. But I warn you, if this little doe of yours turns out to be a pig, I'm going to get pretty angry." The boy stifled a snort, possibly of laughter. It was the first crack in his respectful demeanor. Happosai glared at him. "Something funny, kiddo?" "Forgive me, venerable one," the black-clad youth said smoothly. "You shall see with your own eyes. I promise you, this girl is not a pig. Not a pig at all." Happosai's would-be apprentice led them on a winding course up the mountainside, ducking in and out of copses of trees, scaling sheer faces of rock, slipping through narrow cracks in the darkness. Happosai wished he had left his bag of silky loot behind - navigating this circuitous route was difficult enough without trying to keep brambles and thorns from tearing his treasures. He scowled at his young guide as the boy negotiated a path between prickly bushes. "You sure you're going the right way, boy?" he snapped crankily. "Of course, sir." "Well how does this tender young morsel of yours get to her bath every night through all of this?" he demanded. The boy paused a moment to give his answer. "There is an easier path to this cave that she travels. However, her wealthy family has guards posted along that route, ready to ambush any who would follow her. We are going the long way around to avoid detection. If it pleases you, sir." "Hmmph," he grunted. Still, his pulse began to quicken as he followed the lad into the night. If this girl's parents went to so much trouble to guard her, she must be a knockout. Either that, or they were really paranoid. Still... His respect for the young hopeful who was leading him also crept up a notch. The boy had potential, that much was sure. To go through all this trouble for a bit of peeping? Quite impressive. And he was good, no question. He seemed completely at home in the tangled wilderness, showing the easy grace of one who has traveled far on foot over all manner of terrain. He also had a natural instinct for stealth, keeping himself cloaked in the shadows at almost all times, to the point that even Happosai hadn't gotten a really good look at him yet. Very admirable indeed. They made their way through a narrow fissure in the rock, towards a barely perceptible glow in the darkness of the earth. The faces of stone were peppered with little shards of crystal which caught the light of what were assuredly candles from further into the depths of the cave. Happosai could feel the humid air upon his face, and they followed the growing heat towards its source. The young fighter signaled for extra stealth as they entered a vaulted cave, twinkling with a myriad of quartz stars across the rough formations of stone. The air had become hazy with the steam of the hot springs, smearing their vision in the dim light. The masked lad peered over a ledge of rock, ducked back down quickly, and nodded to Happosai. The old lecher peeked up for a look. "Hotcha," he whispered softly. She was, indeed, as stunning as the boy had claimed. She knelt there beside the spring, preparing herself for her bath with delicate gestures, naked as the day she was born save for a yellow bandanna tying back her long, black hair. Her body was firm, graceful, strong - her athletic femininity reminded him of Akane. Pearls of moisture beaded along her bare skin as she knelt before the hot water. Her movements were indeed tentative and unsure, a girl not accustomed to the voluptuous curves of her own body. "Well?" the youth beside him whispered. "Not bad," Happosai rasped back. "What a hottie..." "I... I have not..." the boy stuttered. The old man tore his eyes away from the delicious scene before him to give a critical look to his would-be apprentice. The lad had his hand curled into a trembling fist, his eyes closed with shame. "What is it, kiddo? Too much for your tender eyes, eh?" "I... I have looked," the boy admitted, "but I cannot bring myself to..." He heaved a huge sigh. "I know that the moment a woman steps into her bath, she is at her most vulnerable. And yet, for all that I have prepared, I still cannot bring myself to do it! I can't bring myself... to cop a feel!" He hid his face in embarrassment. "Oh ho! That's it, then?" Happosai smacked his lips. "Well, watch and learn, my boy." "You don't mean... you're going to..." The boy met his eyes for the first time. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but at the moment Happosai was so absorbed with what he intended next that he barely realized it. "Watch the master in action," he wheezed. "Looks like she's about to step in the water... here goes!" The young girl with the long black hair delicately lowered her foot towards the hot water as Happosai launched himself like some grotesque, bloated flea. He soared towards the spring, a contrail of steamy air swirling in his wake. He wanted her to turn around at the last second. His timing, as always, was perfect. "HOTCHA, cutie!" he shouted. "Happi's he...aaaak!" The bathing girl whirled with a speed Happosai would never have anticipated, reached out towards the incoming pervert, and closed her fingers around his shriveled body. They were strong fingers, incredibly strong, hard as stone. And they were definitely male fingers. Happosai felt the air squeezed out of him by a grip like a titan's. His frog-like eyes bulged as he looked up into the smiling, fanged face of his captor. "Y... you?" he managed to gasp as the air rushed from his lungs. "Surprise, you son of a bitch," Hibiki Ryouga snarled with savage triumph. "We've finally got you." - - - - - There was only one voice that Ranma really wanted to hear when he called back to the Tendou Dojo to check in, but it seemed luck had not been in his favor in the last several phone calls he'd made. It was Nabiki this time, and she once again said that Akane was not home. "Sorry," the middle Tendou sister said, "she's out again. I'll tell her you called." A series of strangled noises drifted in from the background on the line. Ranma thought he recognized it. "Hey... is that your dad cryin'?" "Yeah." "How come?" Ranma felt a trace of unease. "Oh, you know him," Nabiki said smoothly. "Always crying about something. So, where are you now?" "Is Akane okay?" he pressed. "Is that why your dad's bawlin'?" A pause, then: "You're right. It's about Akane. She married Kunou, and then turned around and married his father right after that. It's a huge scandal. All over the newspapers." "Wha... you're KIDDING!?" "Of course I'm kidding," Nabiki said evenly. "Look, can we keep this to the point? These international phone calls are not cheap." "Okay, okay," Ranma groused. "Geez." He fumbled around with his map, trying to locate his position so he could pass it on to Nabiki. It didn't help that the Japanese language map he was using seemed to be a good decade out of date. "Uh... does Xiaoyu sound about right?" He heard the tapping of a few keys as Nabiki double-checked this information on her computer. "That would mean you'd traveled 220 kilometers since your last call. Since you've been on foot, I'd say your guess is off." "Crap," Ranma swore. He peered out the front door of the little roadside restaurant where he had checked in to use the phone, trying to get his bearings. "Lessee... there's kind of a valley back the way I came, with a windy river thing through it that's all frozen. It's hilly around here, but the mountains are off to the west..." A bird shot out from the undergrowth, screeching. Ranma's breath caught in his throat. He strained his senses, feeling for the dreadful aura of the Reikoku bearing down on him, clutching the strap of his backpack. His heart pounded hard against his ribs. "Ranma?" Nabiki's voice sounded vaguely concerned. "Shh," the pig-tailed martial artist whispered. "I may have to run." He could hear his own breathing amplified through the headset of the phone, quick and sharp as his body readied for action. He stretched out with all his senses, straining to hear, straining to smell, trying with all his might to feel the aura in the air around him... The undergrowth rustled again. A fox's head poked through the bush, its glinting eyes peering up in the direction the bird had flown. Its prey escaped, the fox slunk back into the foliage. Ranma shuddered, weak with relief, letting his backpack slide to the ground. His knees trembled in the aftermath of the terror. He hated the fear, hated the gratitude he felt that it had been a false alarm, hated the fact that he would need to run if the Reikoku caught up to him again. And he really hated being alone. The monster was wearing him down, slowly but surely. Without his companions to watch his back, he had to be vigilant at all times, alert to any sign that the Reikoku was closing in. It had been different when he'd been with Ryouga and Ukyou - as awful as their protracted flight from the demonic Reikoku had been, it was not so lonely and miserable when his friends had been there. Now, as he traveled through China on his own, he found that he slept poorly, felt harried and distracted all the time, and worst of all, his training was going nowhere. Ranma missed the support in his training - the sparring with Ryouga, the teaching time with Ukyou, the discussions with both of them - more acutely than anything else. Maybe one of them would have had some insight about what he could do with this stupid cat problem, some hint he could use to find a direction to take with his efforts to conquer his fear of felines. At the very least, they could have backed him up, so he wasn't so worried about going too far with his training and entering the Neko-ken state - which would be the end of him if the Reikoku found him like that. How was he supposed to overcome his phobia if he couldn't afford to face it directly? He was out of inspiration, spinning his wheels. He was tired and lonely, and so sick of being afraid... "Ranma? You still there?" The young Saotome cleared his throat. "Yeah... still here." "Everything okay?" he thought. But he didn't say that. If it got back to Akane, she'd worry when she heard. "It's all cool. So, let's see if we can figure out where I really am..." - - - - - "... so as near as I can tell, he's near Chi Bi," Nabiki said. Akane cradled the phone receiver in the hollow of her shoulder, freeing her hands to unfold her map. "Looks like there's a river near there... do you think heading that way and trying to catch a boat would work?" "Might be your best bet," her elder sister agreed over the line. "You've got some rough terrain to cross." "I'll ask Shampoo." There came a pause from her sister in Nerima. "Well... I guess. Are you sure you can trust her, sis? I mean, this was the girl who out to kill you." "We've got that cleared up," Akane said. She peered out the window of the little shop where she was borrowing the phone. Shampoo had flattened herself against the wall to avoid the foot traffic in the little street, her gaze lowered. It was odd seeing her so somber and humble... there was something about it that just wasn't right. "She does her duty," Akane murmured. "You have to give her that." "Pardon?" "Never mind," she said briskly. "Anything else?" "Yeah," Nabiki said. "Don't waste any time getting to Ranma, okay? He... didn't sound like he was doing so hot." "What did he say?" She heard her sister snort. "You know Ranma. He never SAYS there's anything wrong. But I think he's having a rough time on his own. Nobody to show off to, you know." "Don't be mean," Akane scolded, but without much heat. It was simply Nabiki's way to make light of serious matters. She got the message - she had no time to waste getting to her fiancee. "Everybody doing okay back there?" "Kasumi's hanging in there, Daddy's kind of a mess." Akane could practically see Nabiki ticking off each person on her fingers as she spoke. "Natsume and Kurumi are trying to help - they don't know the full deal about what you're up against, but they can see it's hard on him." "Well... I hope he's okay," she murmured. She didn't like upsetting her father, but sometimes there was nothing else to do. He was behind her, even if it worried him sick. "Anyway, I'd better get moving." "Call soon as you can." "Will do," she promised. "Thanks, sis. For being the one who's keeping everyone in touch like this." "You'll pay me back," Nabiki predicted confidently. "Right?" "You bet." Akane grinned a little as she hung up the phone. She'd been pretty caught up in the past months with her own struggles with training and wanting to go after Ranma, but not so much that she hadn't seen the changes in her sister. The cool mercenary exterior still held firmly in place, but the Nabiki underneath had grown up quite a bit. Akane knew Nabiki had run into more trouble running the restaurant than she'd anticipated - and that seemed to have burned some of the selfish cynicism out of her. All you had to do was look at the way she treated Konatsu to see how much she'd changed. If this kept up, Ranma would barely recognize Nabiki when they got back home. she told herself. She gathered up her traveling pack and made ready to go, but paused for a moment as she caught sight of the plainly-dressed Shampoo waiting outside in the street. She frowned, considering, and then headed for the counter. Shampoo greeted her with a deferent bow when she emerged from the little shop. "You find out where Ranma is?" she asked quietly. "Yeah," Akane said. "Look, Shampoo..." "Yes, Akane-san?" The Tendou girl cleared her throat. "All this humility stuff... you don't have to do that around me, you know. It's okay." The Amazon girl raised her gaze a little. "Is penance. Shampoo have duty to her people..." Akane waved a hand and forced a cheery smile. "Of course, of course, but listen... we're not in your village any more. I won't tell anybody if you don't keep up the act all the time. You can just be yourself." Shampoo's chin lifted a little more, and she regarded Akane with a kind of cautious uncertainty. "Here," Akane said, reaching into the bag she'd just purchased from the shop. "I got you some clothes that are a little more your style, so you don't have to wear that canvas stuff all the time. And look..." The violet-eyed girl peered at her. "A scarf?" Akane drew out the colorful, purple scarf and showed it to her companion. "My adopted sister back home had her head shaved too... kind of by accident, but still. This is what we did for her. Let me tie it on..." She moved around behind Shampoo, winding the scarf around the girl's bald head several times until it fit snugly, then tying it off in an attractive little knot. A fair length of purple silk flowed from the knot, trailing down Shampoo's back like two strands of hair. "There," she proclaimed, then pointed to a darkened window. "Take a look." The young Amazon studied her reflection in the mirror, gingerly nudging the head scarf into place with the tips of her fingers. She turned back to Akane, her eyes wide and glistening with the hint of tears. "Akane..." The Tendou girl smiled and put a hand on Shampoo's shoulder. "Looks pretty good, huh?" Shampoo's lips trembled. She eased closer to Akane. "I... not realize... you such a kind person..." Akane flushed, a little uncomfortable. "Well, I just thought..." The Chinese girl leaned even closer, until Akane could feel her warm, sweet breath on her cheeks. "So kind... Never knew how much I... I..." "Look... we're in public..." Shampoo closed her eyes, gently cupping Akane's cheek in her hand. "It not matter..." Distinctly nervous now, Akane looked around a bit frantically. "Hey... what do you think you're doing? I..." Suddenly, before she had a chance to react, Shampoo reached up and pinched her nose. A big, mischievous grin spread across the Amazon's face. "Gotcha!" Akane stumbled back, almost losing her balance. "H...hey!" Shampoo laughed and pointed. "Akane such a sucker!" The Tendou girl curled her fists. "I oughta belt you for that!" The Amazon just grinned, fingering the trailing end of the scarf around her head. "No time for fight now, silly. Where Ranma now?" Akane ground her teeth, still feeling a bit flushed. "Nabiki said he's near some place called Chi Bi. She thought we could go by boat and get there..." "Pfft," Shampoo snorted. "Boat take forever. Is train leaving very soon. Hurry, slowpoke, or we miss it!" "Who are you calling a slowpoke?" Shampoo scooped off her pack and hopped onto the roof of the nearest building. "I is taking shortcut!" she called back, a sly grin on her face as she glided with perfect balance across the narrow center beam of the roof. "Keep up now!" "Wait!" Akane shouted, scrambling to get her own backpack in place as she leaped up to follow Shampoo. She bolted across the roof, scrambling to keep pace with her nimble guide. As she skipped across rooftops, hopped over beams, and tightroped her way across clotheslines, Akane felt her frustration melting away. A smile played on her lips as she watched Shampoo dance her way across the town, the flowing ends of the scarf trailing in elegant waves behind her. she thought with satisfaction, and picked up her pace. - - - - - Nabiki reflected as she made her way upstairs. These past months had changed her in ways she'd never thought possible - she'd learned how to really run a business, she'd bounced back from catastrophic failure, and she'd actually started to LIKE the feel of doing a hard day's work. The feeling of earning money, rather than conning it out of someone, filled her with a completely unexpected sense of accomplishment. Tendou Nabiki liked the changes she saw in herself. She felt like a better person because of her experiences with the restaurant and Konatsu. But right now, she was really looking forward to putting the screws to someone. she decided, and smiled that hard, mercenary smile. She paused outside the sliding panel door in the upstairs hallway of the Tendou home and did a final inventory. With a satisfied nod to herself, she eased open the door. "Ah, Mr. Saotome," she purred. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?" Saotome Genma turned in surprise at her entrance, fidgeting with his glasses. He had been moved to the smaller guest room now that Natsume and Kurumi were here, taking up the space where he and Ranma had once slept. He slapped the book he'd been reading closed and tucked it behind his back. Nabiki made a mental note to find out what it was - she liked to keep informed about the goings-on in the household. For now, it wasn't an issue. "Ah... what can I do for you, Nabiki?" She gave him just a hint of a raised eyebrow, and was gratified to see him flinch. Everyone knew the look she gave people when she wanted something. The elder Saotome - a good deal more paranoid than his son - had reason for concern. "I know your time is precious," she began, making sure the edge of sarcasm showed in her voice, "but if you would be so kind, I'd like you to look over this for me." She tossed him the dossier. Mr. Saotome nervously opened the flap on the bulky yellow envelope and withdrew the contents for examination. She saw a sheen of sweat materialize on his broad face as he glanced over the photos and documents. "I... uh..." he swallowed hard. "I'm not sure what to make of... of..." "Oh come now, Mr. Saotome," she hummed. "No need to be shy. After all, you've been known to complain about what an ingrate your son is. Now, it becomes clear that you have not one, but two lovely daughters." "That... that's preposterous!" he forced a chuckle, which sounded a bit more like a carp asphyxiating than a real laugh. She indicated the dossier. "It's all there, I'm afraid. Testimony gathered from Natsume and Kurumi about what they know from their father. The matter of your Anything-Goes Scroll in their hands. Comparative analysis from your poetry and the journal Natsume read. A timeline of your 'training journey,' which coincides with two protracted stays in the same neighborhood as Natsume and Kurumi's mother. Witnesses who said..." "It's circumstantial!" the broad-framed martial artist protested loudly. "It's not proof of anything!" "Ah," Nabiki raised a finger. "I wonder. Would your wife see it the same way?" The ashen look that often accompanied Mr. Saotome's reflections on his marriage crept onto his face. He faked a nonchalant pose. "She'd understand. Manly behavior, and all that." she thought, and extended her hand. "Well, then I expect I should show that folder to her. She'd probably be ecstatic, don't you think...?" Saotome Genma's composure cracked. He clutched the envelope tight, looked left and right, and then began cramming the papers into his mouth. "Thersh..." he slurred as he chewed, "thersh... noshing to... >gulp< ... show her!" Nabiki's smile just broadened. She made a little "tsking" noise. "Ah, like father, like son," she opined. "How utterly predictable. Did you really think I'd allow you to eat your way out of this?" He looked dejected. "You made copies, huh?" "Pfeh," she sniffed. "That much goes without saying. However, since I predicted you might attempt this particular gambit, I took the liberty of lining the insides of that envelope with the dilution of Widow's Blood. Are you familiar with it, perchance?" The bespectacled martial artist clutched at his throat. "P... poison?" he squeaked. "You... traitor!" "Oh, how you wound me," she lamented. "I should tell you..." "Now, this has gone far enough!" he blustered. "Young lady, you should respect your elders. You've gone entirely too far this time. Why, I should go to your father at once and tell him how you have come here with all these baseless accusations and poisoned envelopes..." Nabiki sighed. She had anticipated he might turn annoying on her, but fortunately there was an easy solution. That was what the glass of water was for. With a splash, Saotome Genma became a panda. "Growf!" he huffed irritably. "Now, about this poison," she said. The panda's ears drooped, and he stopped making noise. "It's nothing lethal," she informed him. "It will, however, make sure you spend the next week or so in the bathroom." Saotome-panda swallowed hard. He held up one of his signs: [Antidote?] She produced the little green bottle. "Right here. But before we negotiate this purchase, let's finish up with the matter I came in here about. The dossier you just ate." Panda-shoulders drooped - an acknowledgement of defeat. [I don't have any money.] "I know," Nabiki agreed. "What I want from you is something that you do have in abundance." [Wisdom?] "Free time." [Oh.] "In exchange for my discretion in the matter of Natsume and Kurumi's paternity," she explained, "I shall be asking you to assume certain duties at my restaurant. Mostly the cleaning, washing up of dishes, that sort of thing. Your presence as a panda during store hours may also be required, depending on how well customers respond to the funny animal factor." She paused, then let her grin widen. "There may be costumes involved." The panda groaned. "I keep meticulous tabs on my inventory," she continued. "Not to mention the cash drawer. Pilfering will not be tolerated. So long as you perform to my standards, no copies of that dossier will find their way into your wife's hands. Thus, you can reasonably expect your head to remain attached to your body." Trembling, the transformed martial artist held up his [Antidote?] sign again. "Ah, yes." She tossed him the small bottle. "Can't have you calling in sick on your first day. I expect you in the store at closing time tomorrow." She turned to leave, flipping a strand of hair back into place as she waved goodbye. "Ciao." As she slid the door closed, she smiled in satisfaction at the sound of a panda gagging down something particularly noxious. This was only appropriate - the whole poison thing had been a bluff, designed to give her a psychological edge over the old swindler. The "antidote" was merely the foulest, bile-tasting concoction she and Konatsu had been able to brew together in the kitchen - harmless, but thoroughly gross. The bit about the poison wasn't the only bluff she'd made to Mr. Saotome. If push came to shove, she wasn't really certain that she'd go public with her findings about Natsume and Kurumi. The real issue wasn't what might happen between the Saotomes - it was how it would affect her adopted sisters. She'd come to like the two wandering girls, and in talking to them had felt sorry for them in their long, lonely quest for their true father. After all, Nabiki knew what it was like to lose a parent. Tendou Soun had his shortcomings, but if there was one thing Nabiki had learned from living with Mr. Saotome and seeing how he had raised Ranma, it was that her own father wasn't so bad. If it came to a choice between her dad and that fat freeloader, she knew who would be the better parent for Natsume and Kurumi. The two girls were happy here, and had been accepted as part of the family. She didn't really want to bring the whole matter of their true parentage out in the open if it might mean disrupting the first stable home those two had ever known. she thought to herself. She felt not a whit of guilt about that. Ranma's father had done very little to pull his ponderous weight around this house. He had been let go from Dr. Tofu's within weeks of being hired, and had taken no work since then except to tag along on some of the outstanding freelance assignments that fell to martial artists - exorcisms, monster control, and that sort of thing. Even now that they had started lessons again at the dojo, Saotome Genma didn't show much interest in the paying students. It was about time she got some use out of that furball. Menial chores around the restaurant wouldn't really take that much of the old fraud's time, really... but it would free both her and Konatsu up from some of the more tedious duties. she speculated. There was a festival coming up soon, she remembered. Maybe she could drag the pretty ninja along for a little R&R. She liked dressing up and going out for that kind of thing... She was also concerned that the old glutton would dig into her stores if left alone, in spite of her warnings. "Goodness, Miss Sanae," she heard her sister say. "You got all this ready yourself?" Nabiki poked her head into the kitchen. There was her sister... and next to her sat the chimpanzee, Miss Sanae, dressed in her flowery kimono. A substantial array of ingredients had been laid neatly out across the countertops in anticipation for the dinner Kasumi was about to prepare. "You're letting her help you cook?" Nabiki asked, curious and surprised. She knew her sister had been working with the little ape, but this... "Uh, are you sure this is... you know, sanitary?" "Certainly, Nabiki," Kasumi replied cheerfully. "Miss Sanae is a master of tea ceremony. She's very clean and conscientious. Once she understands her instructions, you'd be quite amazed at how thorough she can be." "Is that so?" replied the mercenary girl. "Say, sis. I have a notion about how something I'd like Miss Sanae's help with..." - - - - - When they had still been traveling through China as a group - before Jusenkyou, and the fragmenting of their little company - there had been plenty of time for Ukyou and Ryouga to talk to the others about plans for what they would do if they ever got their hands on Happosai. While many of these sessions sounded like water cooler talk at the corporate headquarters for the Spanish Inquisition, others had been more practical than lurid. Both Ranma and Pantyhose Tarou had amassed quite a wealth of knowledge about the world's worst pervert, and had been more than happy to share what they knew about keeping him subdued. The first trick in dealing with Happosai was, of course, to capture him. That was hard enough. But the secret to keeping hold of the little toad was to never let him out of your sight. Even squashing him under a heavy rock was a bad idea - the moment he disappeared from view, his chances of pulling off an escape shot through the roof. He wasn't that strong physically, but he made up for it by knowing how to apply leverage in ways that would make Archimedes' head spin. They had agreed that when making bonds for the old goat, you couldn't just hope to truss up his hands or his feet or anything - you'd better go for the full mummification treatment from the neck down. And the last thing to keep in mind was that if Happosai got his battle aura going, there was no holding him down. The strategy had to be to use something to weaken his energy to the point that he couldn't even generate a spark. For this, they had decided to use Ryouga's socks. "These... these are killing me!" the shriveled lecher wailed. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" Happosai squirmed uselessly in the thick swaddle of ropes that the two young fighters had wrapped around him. For good measure, they had hung him upside-down from a branch, so he had no surface from which to push off. The socks, in all their patchy, unwashed glory, hung around at his wrinkled throat like a collection of moldy neckties. Ukyou leaned against a tree and surveyed the recently-awakened Happosai with cool contempt. "You're not gonna die, you old fool. Quit whining." Happosai began to snivel. "You... you don't understand... I'm an addict! I need a woman's touch... or I'll die, you hear me!" Ryouga barked out a laugh. "Ha! We know better than that. You survived for ten years in a cave, miles away from the nearest woman. It'll take more than a few stinky socks to kill you. I think you're too evil to die, old man." The trussed pervert swayed to get a better look at Ryouga. "You! I've seen you before. How'd you get here? You were one of those guys always hanging around at the house." The Lost Boy's teeth ground together like shifting boulders. "You don't remember who I am?" Happosai appeared to be racking his memory. "Hmm... let me think. The teeth are a bit familiar. Weren't you one of the guys that Akane rejected?" Ryouga's knuckles popped as his hands balled into fists. "Or one of Ranma's punching bags?" the old man mused. "Something like that. One of the little people." "You old bastard!" Ryouga roared in anger. Ukyou intercepted him before he lunged, hauling him away from the dangling degenerate. "Whoah, sugar! Hold up, hold UP! He's just trying to get you riled up so you'll do something stupid, okay? Listen, listen..." "One of the 'little people!'" Ryouga snarled. "Don't tell me you don't remember Hibiki Ryouga, old man!" "Who?" Happosai asked innocently. "Of course he remembers you!" Ukyou shouted, struggling against her angry companion. "Remember that other guy we met? The groveling one? Happosai had been telling stories about you, and Ranma, and everybody! He remembers you just fine. He's just pulling your strings, dummy!" Ryouga stopped struggling against her and backed off, breathing hard. "You're right. Yeah. I remember that. Heh... not going to be that easy, you piece of filth. You remember me just fine." "Hmmph," Happosai snorted. "You all think you're pretty clever to have trapped me, do you?" Ukyou glared at him with a mixture of contempt and triumph. "We WERE pretty clever. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker, old man." "So you must've been dressed up as that boy, is that it?" the upside-down prisoner asked. "Don't feel so bad," Ukyou said, tossing back her hair. "I am a master of disguise, after all." "Yep, you sure fooled me," Happosai agreed. "Even someone as awake to female energy as me could mistake YOU for a boy." Ukyou's left eye twitched. "Of course," the shriveled martial artist continued, "you were never much of a girl to begin with. Ugliest of Ranma's fiancees by far. Everybody knew that." "ExCUSE me!" Ukyou snapped. "I seem to recall that I was the CUTE fiancee!" "Oh, Ranma just said that to make you feel better," the old man explained glibly. "You should have heard how they talked about you behind your back! 'Face like a sardine okonomiyaki on that girl,' Ranma would say to Akane, and how they would laugh..." This time, it was Ryouga's turn to hold her back as she lunged for the old man, hands outstretched with intent to throttle. "Take that back, you damned liar!" she roared. "He's just trying to get you angry!" Ryouga insisted as he braced himself against her charge. "Of course he's lying, Ukyou! You're gorgeous, everybody knows that. Nobody would ever say anything like that about you! Come on... settle down! He's just trying to..." Ukyou reigned in her temper and pulled back, composing herself. "Heh," she said as she tossed her hair back and took a deep breath. "Yes, of course. You really are a slippery old bastard, aren't you? But we're not going to fall for any of your tricks." "Aw, come on," Happosai wheedled. "Just let me down, kiddies. This has gone too far. You should respect your elders." A burst of dry laughter greeted this particular sentiment. "No chance, geezer," Ukyou said. "You're going to talk, and you'd better tell us the truth." "Talk?" Bulbous eyes blinked, a grotesque parody of innocence. "What about? What could you want to talk to ME about?" "The Reikoku," Ryouga rumbled. "The what? Never heard of it." Ukyou clicked her teeth together softly. "No, no. That's not going to do at all." "Is it some kind of martial arts technique?" Happosai asked, looking at them with blank incomprehension. "Or a new sort of food you're learning to cook?" The young chef's eyes narrowed to slits. "We have ways of making you talk, old man. Ryouga?" "Yes?" "Do it." Ryouga turned and rummaged around behind him, his actions hidden from Happosai's view in the flickering light of the campfire. The old man eyed him nervously, trying to peer through the gloom for a better look. "What... what's going on?" he asked, beads of sweat forming on his wrinkled brow. "Since we're in China," Ukyou explained evenly, "we decided to use a bit of Chinese history to inspire us. Extracting confessions from prisoners has been a fine art in China for many centuries now. Did you know that? Water torture, bamboo torture, caning, thumbscrews... the list just goes on and on." The old man swallowed hard. "Uh..." The look on his face suggested that he did, indeed, know a good deal more about Chinese tortures than he ever would have cared to learn. "Since you refuse to cooperate," the girl said in a grave voice, "prepare to endure... the Boxer Rebellion!" Ryouga whirled to face Happosai, thrusting a stick towards the old man's face. Wrapped around the end of the stick was a pair of boxer shorts. They bore faded stripes that might once have been yellow, and the fabric was all but worn to threads in many places. Ryouga had brought several changes of underwear with him along on the trip, but this was the pair he had worn the most, through the most exertion. And they had not been properly washed in some time. "AAAK!" Happosai gagged as powerful male musk flooded his nostrils. "Get it away! Get it away!" Ukyou watched stoically, her arms crossed. The old man thrashed helplessly in his bonds as Ryouga poked and waved with the stick, flooding the old man's airspace with the masculine aura of the boxer shorts. "We know all your weaknesses, oldtimer," she said harshly. "Female underwear gives you strength, and male underwear takes it away." The trapped pervert hacked and wheezed. "Not... not fair!" he whined. "Make it stop!" Ukyou raised a hand. Ryouga withdrew the stick and held it to one side. Ukyou extended one finger and gently pushed the stick away towards the other side, farther away from her, and then returned her attention to Happosai. "Now, shall we try that again?" Happosai heaved out a series of pitiful, whistling gasps. "You youngsters... sure have gotten... ruthless..." "Being pursued by the Reikoku will do that to you," Ukyou said flatly. This caught the old man by surprise. "Pursued by the... you? Wait, wait... which one of you?" "Both of us," Ryouga said. "BOTH of you? But... but why? Wait... when Ranma died, did he pass on the title of Master to one of you? But then how could both..." Ukyou leaned forward, eyes flashing dangerously in the firelight. "Ranchan's not dead, you old bastard! No thanks to you." "He's not?" Ryouga fidgeted. They didn't actually know for a fact that Ranma was still alive, though clearly he had still been moving until recently, long enough to keep the Reikoku off their trail while Ryouga recovered his health in the Amazon village. He felt that he should probably keep that bit of uncertainty to himself, though, all things considered. "As for how it ended up pursuing us," Ukyou continued, "that's something I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've never done anything decent for another person in your whole miserable life, have you?" "Hey! Now that's..." She ignored him. "We're in this mess because we helped Ranma. Get it? Now it's chasing us as well as him." The desiccated old troll worked his jaw. "You helped him... you must not have known what it was... you must not have realized..." "Oh, we realized," Ukyou corrected him. "It doesn't matter. We made our choice anyway. If I had to do it again, I wouldn't hesitate." "Nor would I," Ryouga agreed. He had really attacked the creature to protect Akane, not Ranma, but that distinction didn't matter to him anymore. "I guess Pantyhose Tarou probably would have rather not have gotten into all this, though. If he had it to do over again." "P... Pantyhose?" Happosai spluttered, bewildered. "What does he have to do with... with all this?" Ukyou and Ryouga looked at each other for a long moment, an unspoken question between them about who should tell this part of the tale. Finally Ryouga turned to the captive pervert, his eyes all but hidden in the shadow of his bangs. "Tarou fought the Reikoku without knowing what it was. He traveled with us through China for a while. Eventually, the Reikoku caught up with him and killed him." That was only the bare bones of the story, but it was all this old man deserved. "K... he's dead? Pantyhose?" The ancient pervert's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he took a hard swallow. "Dead," Ukyou agreed solemnly. "Now, quit pretending like you don't know what the Reikoku is. This all started because of you. It's YOUR fault, do you hear me? Your fault. So if you don't start coming clean with some details about whatever it was you did and how this thing started chasing you, then I'm going to do a lot worse to you than make you smell Ryouga's underwear. You can bet on that, you miserable son of a bitch." Happosai talked. There were fewer details than Ukyou and Ryouga would have preferred, because Happosai had not really bothered to find out who his victims had been on the night he had entered the grounds of the temple. He knew that it had been full of women, and that they had reacted (overreacted, in his opinion) to his intrusion by summoning the Reikoku to pursue him. Beyond that, he knew very little about the beast or those who had called it forth. "Y'see, when they summoned it, they bound it to pursue the 'Master of Anything-Goes,'" he told them. "But that's a really weak incantation. I knew a thing or two about the Reikoku already... you pick up all sorts of knowledge when you get around as much as I do." "Yeah," Ryouga agreed dryly. "You've probably stolen a whole library worth of ancient scrolls." "Hmph," Happosai huffed. "If you want to do the thing right, you should summon up that critter with your target's proper name. Maybe a bit of hair or blood, or something personal they own. But with just a title to go on, that left me a loophole." "A way to brush your punishment off on someone innocent, you mean," Ukyou hissed. "Ranma wasn't just an inno... um, never mind." Happosai saw the look in both his captors' eyes and prudently decided not to finish that thought. "Well, okay, I was wrong. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" "Not even close," Ryouga growled. "Forgiving you is out of the question," Ukyou said. "Don't even bother with that. What we want to hear is how to stop the Reikoku from chasing us." "Well... I don't really know," the old man said, sweating a bit. He appeared reluctant to pronounce such bad news. "The trick I used only worked because they set the thing off with such a slipshod incantation. Now that it's onto you, that means you must've attacked it, right? Well, changing your name won't get it off your tails. It's after you for the long run." "What about these women at that temple?" Ukyou asked. "Would THEY know more about it?" Happosai twitched. "Probably. Maybe. They bungled the summoning, but maybe they have other information about what to do. I don't know... didn't hang around to ask them." "Too busy running for your sorry life," Ryouga grumbled. Ukyou planted a hand on her hip and pushed back her hair. This was not what she'd been hoping to hear from this old man. She had wanted good, solid answers, not dubious 'maybes' and uncertainties. "All right... look. Do you know where that temple is?" "It was sort of hidden," Happosai said. "Don't think they're listed in the phone book." "But could you find your way back?" Ukyou pressed. "You got there once, you could do it again, right?" "Well... um..." Happosai wriggled around. "I could... but I think there's got to be another way. Let's just put our heads together and..." Ukyou turned to her companion "Ryouga? Put him under." "With pleasure." Happosai's eyes widened in alarm as he watched the lost boy pick up two hefty chunks of stone and move towards him. "Hey now! What do you think..." "Lights out," Ryouga said with unmistakable relish, then began to smack the heavy stones together like a pair of cymbals, with Happosai's head in between. Quite a few loud whacks later, the stones had crumbled into powder, and the old man was dangling unconscious from the tree limb. Ukyou stared off into middle distance, pondering what they had just learned. Ryouga dusted his hands off and settled in beside her, studying her face as he sat down. "What do you think?" he asked. "Not much choice, I guess," she said quietly. "We've got to get the old goat to lead us to that temple. Whatever it is." "They might not be able to help us," Ryouga noted gloomily. "They might not even want to." "No, they might not," Ukyou agreed. "But remember, we have something they want, at least." "We do?" She nodded towards the unconscious prisoner. "They meant to send the Reikoku after him. They'll want to know it didn't work the way they planned. That has to be worth something." "They may kill him if they get him," Ryouga said quietly. "I know." The two martial artists let this thought hang in the space between them for several minutes, both of them mulling it over in their own way. As much harm as Happosai had done to them and to people they cherished, condemning a man to death was not a thought that settled easily into the conscience. The fact that the old bastard had basically sentenced Ranma to die in order to save his soiled hide only went so far in alleviating the burden of their choice. Ukyou finally broke the silence. "Well, I think he's secured, but we should take turns keeping watch over him just in case. You wanna sleep first, sugar?" "No, you go ahead," the Lost Boy answered. "I'll wake you up after my shift." "All right." She shifted to rise, but paused first. "Hey, Ryouga." "Hmm?" She cocked her head at him, her dark eyes glittering in the orange radiance of the campfire. "You know what you said earlier, when the perv was trying to get under my skin?" "Yeah?" Ryouga scratched his head. "Well... you did the same for me. You have my thanks." "That's not quite what I... oh, never mind." She smiled softly, rising to her feet. On an impulse, she bent over and kissed him on the top of his head as he sat there on his watch, a gesture so feather-light that he didn't even feel it through the thickness of his hair. "Don't stay up too long," she whispered, then made her way through the darkness to her bed. - - - - - Natsume inspected the results of her labors and allowed herself a tight, nervous smile. The Home Economics class bustled around her, all the girls busy with their assortment of cooking projects. She picked up one of the cookies she'd made, nibbled an edge off one of the star-shaped confections, and nodded to herself. she thought, satisfied. Her gaze darted over the room, scanning for her little sister. Kurumi wasn't in this class with her, but had a tendency to drop in and see her whenever she had a free moment... especially when there was food involved. Normally, she loved to cook for Kurumi, and her sister naturally assumed that anything she made would be fair game for immediate devouring. Today, though, she had another recipient in mind for her cooking. Natsume gathered the caramel-coated cookies onto a plate and slipped quietly out of the classroom. Though she wouldn't have admitted it under any sort of torture, she had spent the past several days stalking Kunou Tatewaki in preparation for this. Her task had been doubly tricky - in part because it was hard to keep away from her sister, but also because Kunou seemed to spend a fair amount of his own time looking for her. This had been pretty jarring at first. Kunou had a tendency to burst out of nowhere and... express his affection. The attempted hugs were one thing - she could deal with those, and even found them a bit charming. The poetry, though, was a problem. He composed something new for her at least twice a day. He had an aggravating tendency to erupt out of a bush or from behind a door just as she was in the middle of something, and then launch into a recitation of his latest creation. Somehow, she'd managed to escape each time - either by pounding him before he really got going, covering her ears, or running like a bat out of Hell. Natsume was beginning to go a little nuts with all this. At this pace, it was only a matter of time before he caught her flat-footed with one of his volleys of bad verse, and then her weakness would be obvious for anybody to see. He'd already flattened her once with a bad poem in front of the entire student body, and Kurumi's cover story had left something to be desired. If he did it a second time, people would start to get what was going on. A martial artist with a crippling weakness had to look out for herself. The adopted Tendou had marked Kunou's patterns, and now was as good a time as any to catch him alone as walked between his Kendo Club practice and his next class. She needed to shut him up long enough to convince him to quit with the poetry. That was where the cookies came in. She crouched behind a dense hedge, peering out between the leaves at the path. Right on time, the young swordsman strode into view, gaze cast slightly upwards as if he were contemplating the will of heaven. she mused. It was time to move. Natsume leaped into action. "Ah! Most fair Tendou Natsume!" Kunou exclaimed in delight. "I have just finished my latest poem for..." She struck with blinding speed and pinpoint accuracy. The cookie hissed through the air and landed dead-center in Kunou's open mouth. It was, fortunately, a pretty easy target. "Mmmpfh!" the swordsman managed around the mouthful of sticky cookie. As Natsume faced her amorous admirer, she felt a flush creeping into her cheeks. Most people didn't realize it, but she actually felt rather shy around boys in these kinds of situations. It wasn't a problem in combat or normal day-to-day stuff, but the moment a hint of romance entered the picture, her tongue tied itself into knots. "Um..." she heard herself say. "So, are they good? I made them for you." she regaled herself. Kunou swallowed his mouthful, then struck an expansive pose. "Magnificent!" he declared. "Truly, the warmth of a woman's heart can be measured by the joy she feels when cooking for her beloved! In fact, this truth inspires me to compose a poem. 'Oh tender warmmmmpfh!'" Her caramel-saturated missile clogged his attempts at verse. She felt a convulsive shudder pass through her - she'd let him get a few words of poetry off. she told herself. "I'm glad... you like the cookies, Kunou-sempai." "Mmm-mmmrf!" "And I really am... glad. That you want to date me." Her cheeks burned. "Mmmm... >gulp< Aaah! Most lovely of..." She plugged his mouth with another well-aimed cookie before he could get going again. "But there's one problem." "Mmrrf?" "I need... you to stop with the poetry." "Mrr-mmfmf? Mmfff?" "It's not your fault," she continued quickly, trying furiously not to blush. "It's just... I don't like poetry. That's all." "Mm..." Kunou swallowed hard, wiping crumbs away from his mouth. "But my beloved! Did I not hear true, that you gave an impassioned discourse on the importance of quality in poetry in Miss Hinako's class?" "Uh... well, yes," she admitted. "I did do that." "Did your voice not raise high above the tumult of the unwashed peasantry, speaking like a writ from the heavens on how poetry of worth should be cherished, for bad poetry should ne'er be tolerated?" She sighed. "Yes. Yes, I did say that." "And what of the 30-page paper thou did author..." "Okay!" Natsume interrupted. "I can't stand BAD poetry! That's the problem!" He looked stricken. "Then..." She hid her eyes under her bangs. "I'm... sorry. I don't mean to say your poetry is bad. I mean, it's all subjective, right? I just... react very strongly. I..." "Is mine verse so offensive to thine ears?" Kunou lamented. "Can the muse of the Supercharged Shogun of Furinkan High truly speak with a tin voice?" The adopted Tendou waved her hand placatingly. "Don't be so hard on yourself! It's only..." "I cannot accept it!" the swordsman proclaimed. "Tendou Natsume... listen to this!" She reached for another cookie... only to find her fingernails scrabbling against a bare plate. Natsume looked down, aghast, and saw her little sister standing beside her. Kurumi's cheeks bulged with a payload caramel-coated confections - crumbs tumbled down her chin as she gnawed the huge sugary bolus in her mouth. "You ate them!" Natsume shouted in despair. "You ate them ALL!" Kurumi turned to face her, eyes dreamy and half-lidded with glucose-induced bliss. Sometimes, it could be a real pain to have a sister who was a champion food thief, she thought. She drew back to throw the empty plate at Kunou, but it was too late. He had already begun. "Though I go to you ceaselessly along dream paths, the sum of those trysts is less than a single glimpse granted in the waking world." The plate slowly dropped to her side as she listened, all the tension flowing out of her muscles. It was all she could do to remain on her feet as she listened, her heart moved with wonder. She even forgot to blush. "That... that's beautiful," she whispered. Oddly, Kunou looked a bit disappointed. "Ah. Yes. Yes, it is." "What's wrong?" He turned away slightly and uttered a weary sigh. "Indeed, 'tis one of my favorite love poems. But alas, it is not one of my own. That verse 'twas crafted in the 9th century by Ono no Komachi." "Oh," Natsume said, a bit confused. "I don't see why that's a problem..." "Do you not?" he asked. "Fairest maiden, I could see the joy blooming in your eyes when you listened to that verse. Would that my own compositions had such an effect upon thee!" She tried a reassuring smile. "You shouldn't let that worry you..." "ALAS!" Kunou bellowed, nearly startling her off her feet. "I cannot rest until I compose a poem worthy of thy love!" "Oh no..." She tried to stop him, but he began too quickly for her to act. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself in the convulsive grips of her allergy to bad poetry. "There once was a maiden named Tendou Who was belov'd by a master of kendo She had keen, piercing eyes Lithe and muscular thighs A firm bust, and a shapely rear-end-o...AAAAaaaah!" The sound of Kunou's voice receded as his body arched off into the distance, propelled by Kurumi's surprisingly fierce uppercut. The young girl turned to her prone sister, looking a bit sheepish. "Uh... sorry I didn't catch him earlier," she apologized. "Those were good cookies, though!" "T... thanks," Natsume replied through clenched teeth. she mused ruefully. - - - - - Ranma felt the first tremble of fear through his body, and he knew that he was in trouble. he thought desperately. The flames of the burning building around him didn't frighten him. He could heat his body aura to the point that he could navigate the burning inn safely, with a scarf around his mouth to filter out the fumes. Rescuing the child trapped on the upper floor didn't frighten him - with his cold aura, he knew he could keep the kid safe from the flames in a cocoon of cool air while he got her out. But the aura he felt was the Reikoku's, and that chilled his heart. He'd taken a gamble trying the mountain pass this late in the year, he knew. The thick snows slowed him down to a crawl, forcing him to forego sleep and travel through the night hours in order to keep ahead of the Reikoku. His map was woefully inadequate in showing him the right route to take, so he'd been forced to pick his way and hope for the best. Fatigue, numbing cold, and the relentless pursuer at his heels pushed Ranma to the very edge of his stamina. He would have made it, though, if it hadn't been for the fire. He'd crested the peak, made it about halfway down the treacherous pass, and come to a little mountain town along the road just as night was falling. He had intended just to grab a bite to eat and press on down the mountain until he reached the river, where he'd hoped to find a ride on a boat to put some distance between himself and the Reikoku. But a fire had broken out in the kitchen of the 2-story inn, and quickly spread to consume the entire building. It was all the locals could do to protect the rest of the town from catching. The victims in the upper floor of the building had been sleeping, and many didn't have the time to get out. Ranma had rushed to the aid of the rescuers, knowing that his superior physical skills and his command of hot and cold auras could make the difference for the lives of those trapped. He'd saved three people already. The fourth, the last one trapped in the blaze, clutched him with tiny hands as he bolted through the inferno toward safety. The girl was maybe four years old at the most, yet she didn't cry out as the burning beam nearly fell on them. Once Ranma had taken hold of her, she had instinctively put her absolute trust in his ability to protect her. He had to run, but he couldn't abandon these people. he told himself, smashing through a burning door and leaping for the window. With a terrific leap, he reached the ice-slicked road outside the collapsing inn. The girl's mother, soot-covered and frantic with fear, lurched toward them to take her daughter in her embrace. The little girl, who had been so quiet and brave in the heat of the flame, began screeching in terror as her mother rocked her back and forth. The mother's primal wails mixed with her daughter's to a piercing chorus of hysteria. Ranma thought. Then, he felt the hair rising on the back of his neck, and a low growl rose unbidden from his throat. he realized. He turned to bolt, but as his gaze passed over the scramble of townspeople battling the fire, he paused. The locals with buckets and shovels were all that stood between the fire and the rest of the town, yet they were beginning to panic as well. The grime-covered foreman in charge of the effort was bellowing his orders over the growing din of panicked shrieks from the victims. The firefighters themselves looked at the blaze with wide, terror-filled eyes. A bucket fell from the fingers of one man and splashed uselessly across the road. They didn't know what was happening - the natural fear in the situation simply grew out of proportion as the Reikoku approached. But it was sowing chaos throughout the little village at a time when they most needed to come together in an orderly way. Ranma looked down the slope, which he knew led to the river far below. If he took off that way, the Reikoku would follow him along the path he'd come. That meant it would head straight through the heart of town. And he knew what would happen if it did - panic would overcome these people, and their entire village would be consumed by the unchecked flames. How many would die in the inferno? He couldn't let that happen. There was only one choice. Ranma turned and bolted back the way he'd come, back up the slope of the mountain. He had to cut across the Reikoku's path, draw it off at a different angle. He would need to lead it down a different path, away from the village. It would be hard - the snow was heavier on the other faces of the mountain, the descent steeper and strewn with obstacles - but what could he do? He couldn't let these people die just so he could escape. he assured himself, bracing against the rising tide of fear inside him as he churned through the snow back up the mountain path. A phantom stench of fish filled his nostrils as the Reikoku's aura intensified. He fought the urge to drop to all fours as he ran. he though angrily, resisting with all his will. The light of the flame receded as he drew farther away from the town, but he could still see quite well by the bright glow of the moon. He couldn't spot the Reikoku in all the snow and jagged spires of rock, but he could feel it. He curled his fingers into claws and slashed at the snow as he ran. He cut away from the path, charging out into the snow, making his way along the mountain face to the slope that would lead him down. Slivers of ice hurtled away like ribbons of excelsior, cut away by the ki-claws of his Neko-ken power. He heard himself let out a yowl of anger. Why was he running? His enemy was back there, taunting him, challenging him, filling the world with the smell of fish... he told himself, desperately struggling to keep his mind human. But he couldn't go faster. The snow was almost up to his chest, and he was so tired. It felt like days since he'd gotten a wink of sleep, and his limbs already ached with weariness from his arduous trek across the mountains. He coughed painfully, his lungs still stinging from the fumes of the blaze at the inn, and heard his cough turn into a hiss of rage. he thought. He was going slower than the Reikoku's shambling gait now, and his human will crumbled further with each step. It was going to catch up to him soon, but his mind would be long gone when it did. In the distance, he faintly heard the sound of the town foreman belting out orders to his men. Hearty shouts of affirmation greeted the calls from the firefighters. Their confidence had returned, and they were working together again. They'd stop the fire from spreading, at least. he thought wearily. His cat self uncoiled in his mind, blotting out all trace of human thought. Neko-Ranma dropped to all fours, eyes blazing as he turned to face his approaching enemy. He raised his back to look more fearsome, flexing his razor-sharp claws in preparation for the upcoming fight. He felt tired, but a cat never let weakness show. That whatever-it-was back there was going to get it now, he thought. He advanced, ready to fight, ready to slash... "Here, kitty! Come here, kitty-kitty!" That voice... Neko-Ranma recognized that voice. It was HER! His person was here! That changed things, the kitty-consciousness thought. The black-horrible-thing may still be out there, but he had to go see his person. She'd need his help, after all. And maybe she'd make the thing go away. He twitched his ears, orienting on the sound of the familiar voice of his person, and then leaped with a happy yowl. She was there, standing on some kind of board or something in the snow. Another person was there, and Neko-Ranma recognized her by scent immediately. That person was okay, if a little scary sometimes, but the other wasn't the one he wanted. He wanted HER, the sweet one, the one who loved him. And she wanted him, too. She held out her arms to him and caught him as he leaped, cradling him close to her warmth. "Why is he like this?" she asked the other. At some level, Neko-Ranma understood the words, though the cat-self didn't really care. "No time!" the other said. The other was also on one of those flat things that let her stand on the snow. "Can feel the Reikoku getting close. We run now, Akane-san!" "Right!" The two turned, and suddenly they were flying across the snow. The flat things they stood on slid across the pristine white, carrying them with stomach-dropping speed down the steep slope. The aura of terror which held Neko-Ranma in its grip abated as they gained distance from the creature that pursued them. As the need to fight diminished, the boy-cat felt fatigue settle into his bones. He wanted nothing more than to sleep in the safe embrace of his person, but she kept shifting back and forth on that board thing as they hurtled across the snow. There were a lot of rocks in the way, and they almost hit a few... "Hold up, Shampoo!" called his person. "We're switching!" They skidded to a halt. His person peeled his paws off her, in spite of his yowling protests, and handed him over to the other girl. The other girl secured him in her grasp. "Why we switch?" she asked. "Too many rocks," his person said. "I'll clear the path, you follow. Change him into a girl so he's smaller - that should make it easier to steer." "Okay!" His person turned away as he howled plaintively, and suddenly cold water splashed over his head. Ranma-chan spluttered, her mind reeling as the Jusenkyou curse took effect. Now that they were away from terror field of the Reikoku, the shock of the change was enough to snap her out of her cat-self. She only remembered bits and pieces of what had just happened. "Akane?" she choked. "Sh... Shampoo?" "You better?" came the Amazon girl's voice. "Is good." "What... what's going on?" "We going," Shampoo told him. "Only got two snowboards, so you have to be carried. Hold on, Ranma-san..." She tried to frame a question about that, her mind reeling from the sudden turn of events, when a sudden burst of motion took her breath away. The Chinese girl launched herself down the slope on the snowboard, following the path that Akane blazed across the white expanse of pristine snow. Ranma-chan could see the course was treacherous, full of sharp drops and pitfalls - and especially dangerous for the jagged spires of rock that jutted up from the snow. Ranma-chan felt her breath hitch as they entered a narrow pass, blocked off by an ugly spike of black rock directly in their path. she thought anxiously. Akane was steering right down the middle, the lunatic... "BAKUSAI TEN-KETSU!" Ranma-chan gaped in sheer astonishment. That was Akane - AKANE... but she really did use the breaking point. The stone in their path burst into thousands of fragments at a single touch of Akane's finger, clearing their way into an open field of snow. she thought. Akane was anything but clumsy. She sped down the steep white slope of the mountain like a rocket, carving a path through the fresh powder for Shampoo to follow. When a rock blocked their path, she blasted it into smithereens with the Bakusai Ten-Ketsu. A thousand questions rose in Ranma-chan's mind, but she couldn't find her voice to ask a single one. She held onto Shampoo with all of her flagging strength and simply watched in bewildered awe as her fiancee blazed a safe path down the mountain face. "There's a ravine coming up!" Akane shouted back. "Break right, Shampoo!" "Can we jump?" the Amazon cried back. "Too far," the Tendou girl answered. She sounded excited, bursting with energy. "See those power lines? We'll grind 'em over! Follow me!" "I follow!" Shampoo shouted back. Ranma-chan heard her mutter under her breath: "Crazy girl." Yet the Amazon's voice sounded almost admiring. Akane led them on a course parallel to the ravine, then with a sudden leap that made Ranma-chan cry out in shock, she hurled herself into the blackness of the canyon. But as she'd said, a power line snaked its way up the mountainside on tall poles across the ravine, within jumping distance at the edge of the chasm. Akane landed with her snowboard lengthwise along one of the steel cables and began to slide. Shampoo grunted with effort as she mimicked the leap, her knees absorbing the shock of impact as the snowboard slammed down on the cable. Ranma-chan wasn't surprised that Shampoo could make a leap like that, even burdened with a passenger - the Amazon girl had strength and agility to spare. But Akane... Sure, Ranma-chan had seen Akane skateboard before, and she'd been reasonably good at it. The skill wasn't too different from snowboarding. She could ice skate and ski too - but never at this level of mastery. The Akane that Ranma-chan knew would never have made that jump. And yet there she was, grinding down the ice-slicked steel cable like it was nothing, her snowboard kicking up a trail of sparks in the wake of her passage. She hopped her board over every junction spot where the cable was anchored to a support pole, landing with ease after each transition. She even started to throw in twists between jumps. "Fifty-fifty rail!" Akane shouted, laughing. Ranma-chan thought incredulously. The youngest Tendou reached the other side of the ravine, then leaped off the power line toward open snow. As she descended, she flipped and spun in the air, pulling off some kind of twisting somersault before she touched down on the snow. "Combo!" she cried in glee as she sped down the slope. She'd been training - that much was obvious to Ranma-chan - but it was more than that. She had found something in herself that Ranma-chan hadn't seen for a long time, almost since they'd first met. Tendou Akane had found her confidence again. Confidence was a martial artist's greatest ally. It let you transcend your physical limits, pull off moves and attacks with authority, and achieve all the techniques you'd practiced in a real fight, when it counted. Whether it came across as cocky arrogance or quiet inner strength, every great martial artist had a well of deep confidence upon which they could draw when battle came. Akane had lacked that. She had tried to cover with a sort of false bravado that tended to collapse when she was under pressure, but somewhere along the way, she had lost the confidence in herself that the other martial artists in Nerima all possessed. Ranma-chan asked herself, her inner voice harsh in her mind. Tears crystallized on her cheeks in the icy cold. she thought. Ranma-chan didn't know what Akane had done to train while she'd been in China, running from the Reikoku. She'd clearly done the Bakusai Ten-Ketsu training, but it seemed she'd done a lot more than that as well. Whatever had happened, she'd recovered all the confidence she'd lost, and then some. Ranma- chan could see it in her every move, in the reckless arrogance of her bearing as she attacked the dangerous slope, in the scintillating blue of her battle aura as she tore through the rocks in their path. Tendou Akane shone like an angel. The tears threatened to freeze Ranma-chan's eyes shut. She rubbed them away with her sleeve. she thought, not even trying to stop her sobs. "Shampoo, look!" Akane called back. "There's a river barge!" The river had come into view below them, winding its way between the mountains with a frosting of ice on each bank. A large, ugly boat, heavy in the water with her cargo, chugged along the surface of the water. "We can make it!" Akane shouted. "We have to book it, though!" "Don't slow down for Shampoo!" the Amazon girl piped back. "Hurry!" Akane tucked into a crouch, speeding like an arrow down the slope. A lip of snow-covered stone rose in her path, forming a natural ramp. She hit the ramp at the perfect angle, launching herself in the air toward the barge on the river, and landed her board with a loud SMACK on the aft deck. Burdened by Ranma-chan, Shampoo's couldn't quite control her approach as perfectly. Their trajectory was off by just a fraction, but as they sailed toward the river, Ranma-chan realized they were heading towards the frothing wake of foam churned up by the ship's propellers. She braced herself for impact in the freezing waters... ...and felt strong hands catch them just before they hit. Akane, leaning out from the rail, snagged the flying pair out of the air, then chucked them back onto the deck. Shampoo let her drop to the deck - Ranma-chan's legs felt so weak that she could barely stand on her own. Akane moved in beside her for support as Shampoo let go. Ranma-chan thought dizzily, staring at silken cloth wrapped around the Amazon girl's head. "I go explain things to boat crew," Shampoo said. Men from the ship had begun to approach them, rather startled by their unorthodox arrival. "You take care of Ranma-san, yes?" "Thanks, Shampoo," Akane said warmly. The Amazon turned and began speaking to the crewmen in Chinese. Ranma-chan thought, her mind reeling with questions even as the fatigue from her exertions threatened to overwhelm her. She clutched Akane, both for support and for the simple joy of seeing her again, in spite of all the danger. The only question she managed to croak out was: "What... is going on here?" Akane smiled at her and hugged her back. Ranma-chan felt herself sliding into unconsciousness as she heard her fiancee's answer. "What do you think, you dummy? I came here to save you." - - - - - - end of part fourteen... ----------------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR'S NOTES ----------------------------------------------------------- The potion, Widow's Blood, is a tip of the hat to my favorite fantasy series, "A Song of Fire and Ice" by George R. R. Martin. Anyway... Here it is! The longest-awaited chapter in "Relentless." In order to prevent a wait of several YEARS from forming between this chapter and the next, I have taken the precaution of writing the rest of the story before I released anything else. My profound thanks and gratitude to all those who have stuck with me through this long, very dry spell. And now, I can actually say with certainty that the next chapter is... COMING SOON: Ranma, Akane, and Shampoo together again... can they come up with a solution to Ranma's cat-fist problem? Ryouga and Ukyou follow their dangerous guide back to Japan, and to the secret temple where all this began. And Nabiki gets more than she bargained for when she takes a night off work with Konatsu... COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko,and are licensed in America by Viz Communications. GRT - April 2005 Thunderstruck_comic@comcast.net All existing chapters of this story may be found at: http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless