[Ranma][FanFic] Dynasty - Chapter 1

[Sydney Kyle]

DYNASTY - CHAPTER ONE
By Sydney Kyle <jant...@hotmail.com>
<http://fortunecity.com/tattooine/Pratchett/199/kylefic.html>

Author's note: The characters here all act the way they should be: the
way they act in the manga and anime series. I'll tell you this, though--
this will only be temporary. Certain...events are going to shake up the
status quo--so if you don't like the shallowness of this interpretation,
then rest knowing that this is gonna get a hell of a lot deeper as it
progresses.

You have been warned.

Oh, and for all of you who demanded to know just what exactly the
Dynasty's all about and why the hell they're after the Jusenkyoites, all
I can say is wait. It's important that you discover this along with the
Ranma cast... ;)

Anyway, the disclaimer's still the same. All characters belong to
Rumiko Takahashi and the Dynasty characters belong to me.

Keep those inputs going. I need some ideas on certain characters...

=========================
* * * DYNASTY * * *
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
=========================
* * * * * *
=========================
CHAPTER ONE:
Divided We Fall
=========================

A monotonous, melancholy tune marked the beginning of the eighth hour
at Furinkan High School.

Classroom doors slammed shut as the pupils within were subjected to
their daily doses of knowledge and education; Principal Kuno sunbathed
on the roof in his flowered trunks, armed with a piece of aluminum foil
and a glass of pineapple juice; Miss Hinako waited patiently for her
favorite delinquents, ready to siphon their auras in order to revert
herself from her child-form into adult-form; Tatewaki Kuno, along with
his Kendoist Club followers, was dragged off from the courtyard, still
spouting elaborate protests of how it was his duty to go forth and seek
out the reason of Akane Tendo's failure to show up at the school gates.

In effect, the most dysfunctional school in Tokyo was eerily quiet.

Mainly, that was because its major players were missing.

Akane Tendo and Ranma Saotome were late for school, and it was a
known rule at Furinkan High that chaos had to restrain itself until
these two had arrived at the campus grounds.

It was, after all, a normal day in the place called Nerima.

* * * * * *

"Gather around the water, all of you," commanded the one in the black
robes.

The figures complied without hesitation.

This room had a dreamy, surreal atmosphere. The walls were composed
of a material that looked suspiciously like coral, the ceiling was made
of jadestone and chrysoprase, and the floor was made of the finest
mother-of-pearl.

The most distinguished-looking feature in the chamber, though, was
the enormous, iridescent pool that sat placidly in its middle. Ripples
of light that were reflected from the pool's surface danced across the
bronze and silver-plated suits armor of the twenty or so individuals
assembled around the water's edge.

"We are ready, my Lord," proclaimed the one in front.

At this, Lord Takuma raised his dragon's-head staff over the water.
The gold dragon's eyes glittered a deep crimson, baring its fangs in a
grotesque smile.

The surface bubbled.

A hush fell on the audience.

The velvet depths of the pool cleared abruptly, and an image slowly
began to emerge...

It was the image of a long-haired individual with thick spiral-
tinted glasses, appareled in white Chinese robes. He was running
frantically after the silhouette of a girl on a bike.

"The place is Nerima, Japan," Lord Takuma said, "and this--"

He gestured at the image in the pool, almost carelessly.

"--is the first of the five targets."

* * * * * *

"Sh-Sh-Shampoo!! WAIT!!" yelled the bespectacled, optically-
challenged young man as he sprinted after the bicyclist, who also
happened to be the love of his life.

Too bad the love of his life had someone other than him whom she
considered to be the love of HER life.

"Go away, Mousse! Leave Shampoo alone!" she shot back in a high
female voice, her patois revealing her Chinese heritage. Her long purple
hair streamed out behind her, caught up in two neat buns at the back of
her head.

"Buh-buh-but...where're you going?!"

"Shampoo need to deliver extra-special ramen to very important
person. Now shoo! Go!"

*WHAM*

The young man peeled his lips off the rough bark of the telephone
pole he had collided into, composed himself, and resumed his pursuit of
her.

"S-s-special ramen?! Waaaaait a minute--does this have anything to do
with that jerk _Ranma_?!"

"None of Mousse's business!"

*WHAM*

He pried himself off of another pole.

"It is, isn't it? You're going to try and make him eat the passion
spice in that ramen, aren't you?"

"That none of your concern, Mousse!"

*WHAM*

Who was putting these damned poles in his way?!

"Oh, yes it *pant* is!" He was beginning to run out of breath. "One
day, Shampoo!! *pant* One day, I'm going let you *hagh* see the error of
your ways!! Just *haugh* wait and see, Shampoo!! I _WILL_ *urk* DEFEAT
RANMA SAOTOME--AND I SHALL WIN YOUR *hurff* YOUR HEART!!!!"

"That not happen for _very_ long time, no?"

She put on a burst of speed and vanished promptly down the horizon.

"N-n-noooo! SH-SH-SH-SHAMPOOOO! WAAAAAIT!!!"

*WHAM*

He toppled over backwards from the pole and collapsed in the street,
twitching, his limbs bent over in ninety-degree angles.

* * * * * *

"Hmmm. A martial artist, is it? Most interesting."

There was the hint of a smile tugging at Takuma's lips.

"Very well," he murmured. "This will certainly not be the first one
we come up against. Do not underestimate this one because of his looks,
however. He may appear non-threatening, but mind you, he is quite
skilled at concealing all sorts of assorted weaponry within the folds of
his long robes. This one is extremely unpredictable, and sufficiently
skilled in the art of combat. Take heed that you do not advance toward
him within his throwing range, lest he ensnare you with his chains or
catch you off-guard with his projectiles. But then again, he _does_ have
two certain weaknesses..."

"What's that?" ventured one of the spectators.

"For one thing," replied Takuma, "without those lenses he is wearing,
his sense of sight is drastically reduced. And two, in his cursed form
he is ridiculously to subjugate, unlike that one half-man, half-yeti
abomination we disposed of last time.."

* * * * * *

"Ranma?" Shampoo asked, hopefully.

She pressed down hard on her brakes, and looked slowly from left to
right.

The street was deserted.

She hopped off her bike and propped it against a telephone pole, a
frown of consternation on her face. As she inspected the road, her sharp
eyes caught sight of a series of dents on the sidewalk.

She studied the imprints, unable to withhold her curiosity.

They looked like...like...mallet marks.

Typical Akane Tendo handiwork.

<Stupid crazy Akane,> thought Shampoo, furiously. <How dare she try
and kill Shampoo's husband! She no love Ranma! She always fight him! She
crazy violent weakling girl!>

So Akane and Ranma _had_ passed this way. She'd just missed them too,
by the looks of it. The mallet marks were still fresh.

Shampoo mounted her bike again, precariously balancing the box of
spiced ramen on the palm of her left hand.

<Oh, well. At least Shampoo lose stupid Mousse.>

Sometimes Shampoo wondered why Mousse was so thick-headed. Was it
possible to be both optically and emotionally blind? Couldn't he see
that all his attempts to woo and worship her were only suffocating her?
Couldn't he understand that she could never view him in any other
context other than a childhood friend? How could he be so stubborn?

But she didn't want to think about Mousse right now.

In fact, the man of her dreams did not sport long tresses and
spectacles, but instead sported a pigtail and a red Chinese shirt.

Ranma Saotome was the man of her dreams, no doubt about _that_. He
was a strong, brave fighter, possessing enough skill to defeat even a
formidable Chinese Amazon like Shampoo in combat. Her great-grandmother,
Cologne, approved of him immensely. In fact, she favored him so much
that she did not hesitate to assist her great-granddaughter in anyway
she could to make Ranma become Shampoo's bridegroom, sometimes often
resorting to schemes that Shampoo would have been reluctant to attempt
in the first place. Yes, Ranma was confident, handsome, and honorable.
He would make the ideal husband.

There was only one hitch to it, though.

He had three other fiancees--one of which he seemed to spend more
than a fair amount of time with.

Shampoo maneuvered her vehicle into the road again, a look of steely
determination on her face.

<Ranma, Shampoo marry you. One way or the other.>

Then she heard a humming behind her.

* * * * * *

Lord Takuma continued to speak into the pool while the youths
listened, hanging on to his every word.

"This one is only slightly more difficult. She is a Chinese Amazon,
trained from childhood in the ancient warrior ways of her tribe. She is
quite knowledgeable in the arcane Amazon combat techniques and is very
fast, very agile, and very quick-witted. Her weapon of choice is a pair
of bonbori, although it seems she has neglected to bring them in this
situation. As it is, she has been strongly instilled with the concepts
of honor, discipline, and fierce pride--which, unfortunately for her,
will also prove to be the chink in her armor..."

* * * * * *

"This truly is a man's game, Tendo," murmured Genma Saotome, his
visage a mask of utter solemnity as he sat cross-legged on the tatumi
mat. "For a game of such depth as this requires long hours of the utmost
concentration for one to master its unspeakable complexity."

"Indeed it is, Saotome," agreed Soun Tendo, his face equally as
solemn as he languidly inspected the pieces on the Shogi game board that
lay spread out between them. "Indeed it is."

"You know, Tendo, I was just thinking. After all that our children
have been through--Togenkyou Island, Akane's many kidnappings, her
near-death--I had sort of...hoped that they would get along better."

"When are they _ever_ going to learn?" Soun shook his head.

"Stubborn as mule, that boy of mine. Takes after his mother, Nodoka,
I suppose."

"And Akane has her mother's stubbornness as well."

"Indeed, Tendo, they do take after their mothers."

"How unfortunate it is, then, that they did not take after _us_."

Both men sighed, deeply and regretfully.

They sat for a while in companionable silence, contemplating.

The exodus was interrupted by the rather disturbing sound of a Tendo
dojo wall coming down.

*CRASH*

To Genma, the sound had become relatively commonplace, especially in
a martial-artist-populated town like Nerima. To Soun, however, the sound
only signaled yet another depletion of his already-limited monetary
funds for repairs.

But instead of bursting into hysterics, Soun calmly straightened up
and closed his eyes. "Make it stop," he muttered.

*CRASH*

Another wall was blown to kingdom come.

"Please...make it stop," said Soun. His eyelid was already twitching
dangerously.

Genma scooted to his feet, hastily adjusting his round rimless
spectacles. "Think nothing of it, Tendo," he declared. "Why, it
could...it could just be Master Happosai coming home from one of
his...er, excursions."

And he ducked quickly into the house before his ears could suffer the
agony of having to hear a full-blown Soun Tendo trademark wail.

* * * * * *

"That is the third on the list. He may be folically-challenged,
heavyset, and rather clueless-looking, but still, I would advise you not
to judge him too prematurely. He is quite competent in the martial arts
as well, having been subjected to hard training under the one known as
Happosai, the Founder of the School of the Anything-Goes Martial
Arts--the most powerfully perverted little gremlin in these parts, I
might add. However, he is not as youthful as the other two, and is not
as fast or vigorous, but he is infinitely more experienced in combat,
especially when he specializes in aerial attacks. Still, he is
relatively more susceptible, especially when he is deprived of his speed
and alacrity in his cursed form. I should inform you, however, that if
he ever resorts to a ominously powerful-looking attack called the
Saotome School Ultimate Technique, it would be best to make sure that
you have a couple of interceptors at his back..."

* * * * * *

"Ranma?" Ukyou Kuonji asked, hopefully.

The boy turned. "Sorry to disappoint you," he replied, his voice
dripping with sarcasm, "but I'm not the object of your affections."

Ukyou narrowed her eyes as she approached the boy in front of her. He
_did_ have Ranchan's height and form, but upon closer inspection, she
realized that in place of the pig-tail was a spotted black-and-yellow
bandanna, and a pair of green eyes in place of the blue.

"Oh. It's just you," she muttered, stifling her disappointment.

Ryouga Hibiki was tired. Exhausted. Drained. He had been travelling
for three months now, struggling to find Nerima after the shame of the
wedding fiasco, and the last thing he needed was a reminder of his most
hated rival. Especially from a girl who had once been his co-conspirator
in many a separate-Akane-and-Ranma plot.

"Sorry, Ryouga. Thought you were Ranchan, that's all."

He stared at her, his thick dark hair lifting slightly in the sudden
breeze. "How could you think I was _Ranma_?"

"Hey, you guys look alike from a distance, okay?" Ukyou shot back
staunchly. "Big deal. Could happen to anyone."

Ryouga frowned. "Yeah. Right."

"Well, long time no see. Thought you were gone for good." She
shrugged. "Heh. No such luck, eh, sugar?"

Ryouga smirked at her, displaying the briefest flash of a pair of
tiny fangs. "Gee, thanks. You make one helluva welcoming committee, you
know that?"

"Well, ex-CUSE me," Ukyou retorted. "I thought you were happy to
leave Nerima. I thought you were happy out in the country."

Ryouga sighed and glanced away. "That was because of Akari."

Ukyou blinked. "Akari? Who's Akari?"

"Akari Unryuu. She just moved into Nerima with her grandfather--who
seems to have recovered nicely from his 'death'--and she's planning to
enroll in Furinkan High. She's got this HUGE white sumo pig with her all
the time. Kind of hard to miss, really."

Ukyou was still blinking. "So she's a girl?" she queried dubiously.

Ryouga nodded, looking faraway.

"A real, LIVE girl?"

Ryouga nodded.

"Are you sure she's not, like, a figment-of-your-imagination-type
kind of girl?"

Ryouga nodded, looking distinctly irritated.

"You mean a real girl--not as in, a guy dressed up as a girl or
something?"

"YES!" Ryouga yelled in frustration. "YES, SHE'S A NORMAL GIRL!!! AND
YES, SHE _IS_ REAL, AND YES, SHE _IS_ SANE, AND YES, SHE _IS_ PERFECTLY
NORMAL--AS FAR AS I CAN TELL, ANYWAY!!!"

"Wow," Ukyou remarked, shaking her head in disbelief. "You...with a
girl. Still can't believe it though..."

"Well, she's probably looking around for me right now," said Ryouga,
furtively tugging at the umbrella that was wedged on top of his huge
travelling backpack. "Then you can see her for yourself."

"That I will," replied a grinning Ukyou. "This is definitely some-
thing I gotta see with my own eyes. I never thought you had it in you."

"Me and Akari were _dating_," growled Ryouga.

He didn't think it possible, but he had actually succeeded in ren-
dering Ukyou Kuonji utterly speechless. Then she regained control of her
vocal chords. "You _were_ dating?"

Ryouga scratched the back of his head, letting out a deep, resigned
breath. "Well, we kinda sorta broke up..."

"Huh? Why?"

"Akane."

"Oh." Ukyou was quiet. That one word was enough.

Ryouga cleared his throat, switching topics abruptly. "Hey, what's
that?" he inquired, pointing at the box that hung from a string in
Ukyou's hand.

The tactic worked. Ukyou's face filled with pride as she lifted the
cover of the box to show him the heart-shaped okonomiyaki inside. On the
top was a "saucy" message: "To My Darling Ranma."

"Oh, just a little present for my Ranchan," she answered slyly. "Not
very original, I admit, but if Shampoo can use her passion spice and
Kodachi her black roses with paralysis gas to win Ranchan over, then I
figured that I could use my okonomiyaki in the same way."

Ryouga gazed longingly at the okonomiyaki, feeling his stomach
rumble. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in a couple of days, and the
inside of the box smelled scrumptious.

"Say, Ukyou," he began, "you don't mind if I--HEY!"

Ukyou batted away his hand with a sharp spatula shuriken that she
fished out of her bandoleer. "Ah-ah, sugar, no can-do. I nearly killed
myself trying to perfect this thing, and I'm not about to waste it on
anyone other than Ranchan."

Ryouga scowled. "You're obsessed with him, aren't you?"

"Not as much as _you're_ obsessed with Akane, sugar."

"But that's--" Ryouga groped for some sort of comeback. "I--"

Ukyou suddenly stopped. "Oh, damn," she muttered, sneaking a swift
glimpse at the clock on the other side of a storefront window. "Now look
whatcha done, Ryouga! Now I'm gonna be late for school!"

"What did _I_ do?!" Ryouga demanded.

"You made me _talk_ to you, you jackass!" snapped Ukyou.

She turned abruptly and began to sprint toward the direction of
Furinkan High, not even bothering to bid farewell to the boy behind her.
It didn't seem necessary, though, as she became aware that he was
running along beside her.

"What are you DOING?" she exclaimed.

"Hey, I'm lost! I figured that if I found a familiar landmark like
Furinkan High, I can remember the way to the Tendo dojo or something."

"Oh, yeah, RIGHT. You wanna see what Akane's up to, huh?"

"N-no! Actually--I-I just wanted to check if Akari might be there!"

"You are SUCH a jackass sometimes, Ryouga."

* * * * * *

"Now this one will be the hardest target we have ever tried to take
so far. He may look quite young, and inexperienced, but take heed, he is
extremely formidable. He is phenomenally strong, displays remarkable
endurance, and has a paranoia that allows him to sense most attacks
before they are carried out. His weapons of choice include a seemingly
endless supply of bandannas, a belt that can be wielded like a sword,
and that heavy red umbrella on his back. He also possesses the knowledge
of several fighting techniques that may prove quite devastating. One of
them is the Bakusai Ten-Ketsu, or the breaking point technique, that can
repulse a wave of attackers if executed precisely. One fact that I find
quite impressive in the boy is that he is the first upperworlder on the
list who has exceptional control of his spiritual energy--his ki--enough
control to actually manipulate it into a form of attack. Because of
this, he is capable of unleashing a ki-blast called the Shishi
Houkoudan, which feeds off of his depression. I advise you to approach
this one with extreme caution. If reverted to his other form, he will be
infinitely easier to subjugate. As skilled as the boy may be, he is
barely able to keep his abilities under control, and is easily
influenced by his emotions--moreso than other upperworlders. Sadly for
him, it is these traits that determine the final outcome in this little
game of survival..."

* * * * * *

"Stupid Akane," muttered Ranma.

He was currently in his history class, unmindful of the monotonous
droning of the sensei up front as he pointed out several locations on a
map of ancient Kyoto. Around him, the class was buzzing, paper airplanes
were being launched, comic books were being read, spitballs were being
thrown, and notes were being passed...

"Huh?"

Ranma glanced down at his desk, momentarily puzzled. His classmate
behind him had tossed a folded-up piece of paper with his name scrawled
on top of it.

He opened it idly, wondering if it had anything to do with that
wedding blunder, though it the topic had already gotten old.

{What's with you and Akane?} were the hastily scribbled words on it.

Ranma sighed. He did _not_ feel like discussing Akane right now. For
one, she was mad at him. Again. It didn't matter why she was mad. She
was _always_ mad. But this time, she seemed to get mad at him more often
than usual, and for the smallest, most insignificant reasons.

And he had no idea why.

<Stupid Akane,> he thought again, his fist tightening round the
paper. <Doesn't even need a reason to chew me out. It doesn't matter
what I do. She'll take it the wrong way anyway.>

Ranma pressed his hot forehead into his cold palms.

<Akane, you kawaiikune tomboy. What the heck did _I_ do to make you
so mad?>

He could think of a million different reasons. Maybe it was the way
he choked after tasting her food this morning. Like he could help it.
She _had_ gotten a little better at it--slightly. Or maybe it was
because he had received presents of food and messages of love last night
at the dojo gates from Ukyou, Kodachi, and Shampoo. Or maybe because he
had bested her when they conducted their daily training at the dojo. Or
maybe...

...maybe she was still mad about the whole marriage thing.

Ranma vaguely remembered telling Akane how he really felt about her
during that incident at Mount Phoenix, when he thought she was going to
die. He had told her that he loved her.

Things took a downhill turn after that.

In the end, after all the dust had finally settled, they resolved
that they would continue on with their lives like nothing had happened.

<Yeah, right,> mused Ranma, more than a little bit bitter. <How're ya
s'posed to act like nothin' ever happened when you just admitted to her
that you love--you...love...>

Ranma shook his head violently, trying to clear his thoughts.

<No. Don't think that. Don't EVEN think that...>

How _did_ he feel about Akane? Did he care for her? Did _she_ care
for him?

Lately, over the way she seemed to throw more violent tantrums
directed at him, it didn't seem like she cared at all.

Ranma felt his heart contract at the thought, and he had no idea
why...

"Ranma!" hissed a voice.

He was jolted out of his reverie. He straightened up, half-expecting
the sensei to subject him to the water-bucket punishment for not paying
attention, but the sensei didn't even seem to notice. He glanced around
inquiringly, wondering if his friends Hiroshi and Daisuke had called him
regarding the note, but for once they both seemed to be engrossed in the
sensei's history lesson.

"Son-in-law!"

Now _that_ was an expression he couldn't mistake.

Ranma looked out the window beside him that overlooked the campus
grounds of Furinkan High, and was surprised to see two figures.

One was Akane's father, Soun Tendo, looking very agitated and on the
verge of tears. The other was a diminutive silver-haired old woman, who
happened to be Shampoo's great-grandmother, Cologne.

<Wonder what they're doin' here?> Ranma thought, blinking.

Soun beckoned to him frenziedly, and Cologne waved her gnarled wooden
staff in a manner that was almost uncharacteristically hysterical.

Ranma's forehead furrowed in concern. Something was wrong.

<But why're they insistin' that I come down _now_?>

He sneaked a swift glimpse at the sensei, weighing his options. Then,
with a nonchalant shrug, he cautiously hefted something up onto his
chair and hurled himself out the window while his sensei's back was
turned.

He _was_ a martial artist, after all.

* * * * * *

"I don't even think I have to remind you all that all the chances of
the Dynasty's future lies on this final one. It is no accident that he
has been kept for last, mind you. He is the last of the Jusenkyo-
cursed, and the last obstacle that stands in the way of the Dynasty.
This is what all those long years of hunting has finally lead you to,
and he will _not_ be easily taken--indeed, the most difficult one we
will ever attempt to subdue. He possesses a speed that is unsurpassed,
and a skill that is unparalleled. He is very cunning, very dexterous,
and able to adapt to counteract any adversary's fighting style. He
prefers to fight barehanded, and employs the use of a number of deadly
martial arts techniques. One is the Tenshin Amaguriken, or the Chestnut
Punch Technique, which is performed via an overwhelming amount of hits
within a very brief period of time. Another is the Hiryuu Shouten Ha, or
the Dragon's Heaven Blast, a deadly finishing move that is effective
against one enemy or several. Still another is the Mouko Takabisha,
which is the ultimate manifestation of his ki."

The audience consulted amongst themselves.

"What is his weakness?" demanded an observer.

The tall man ran his long fingers over the tranquil surface of the
pool, sending cascades of ripples across the watery image of a
dark-haired, pig-tailed young man.

"Simple," said Lord Takuma, somewhat indifferently. "He has never
come across anything like us before."

* * * * * *

The bell rung, signaling the end of the school day, and Furinkan
High's entrance was bursting with mobs of exultant pupils, pouring out
of the building like water rushing from a ruptured dam.

Three girls in particular made their way through the multitude in a
peculiarly quiet fashion. This was probably due to the melancholy state
the girl in the middle seemed to be submerged in.

"Akane? Is something wrong?" Sayuri asked.

"Yeah, anything we can help you with?" Yuka put in.

Akane smiled at her friends, shoving away the nagging feeling that
gnawed at the pit of her stomach. "Oh, it's nothing," she managed,
hugging her schoolbooks harder to her chest. "I--I was just thinking,
that's all."

Sayuri observed her pensively, then opted to take the plunge. "You
know, Akane, you really shouldn't let Ranma get to you that way."

Akane oscillated to face her, eyes wide. "Wh-what?"

"Yeah, Akane," Yuka piped up, encouraged by Sayuri's bravado. She was
well aware that bringing up Ranma's name into a conversation was still a
sensitive issue with her friend, but she was determined not to let Akane
keep all her emotions bottled in. Besides, Ranma and Akane had been
acting artificially nice toward each other at school for weeks now, and
they were no longer engaging in their customary shouting matches
involving the creative uses of words like 'tomboy' and 'pervert'.

It just wasn't _natural_.

"I--I don't know what you guys're talking about," stammered Akane.

"Aw, come on!" Yuka scoffed, shifting her bookbag to her left side.
"We're your friends, Akane. We _see_ things."

Akane laughed, albeit nervously. "See things, huh? Like what? Like
the way Ranma doesn't even want to talk to me anymore? Honestly! Why
would I even care about the way things are between us? That's the way
things're gonna be from now on, and that's the way _I_ like it, okay?"

An uncomfortable silence reigned as the three girls elbowed their way
through the homebound crowds.

Finally Sayuri spoke. "You know, Akane, Ranma may be a jerk
sometimes, but you should stop denying your feelings for him...before
it's too late."

And with that parting statement, Sayuri and Yuka departed for their
own homes, leaving behind a very mystified Akane.

<What did she mean by that?>

She heard a distinctly familiar voice call her name and she spun
around, somewhat flustered, and her confusion grew. "Uhm, Dad? What're
_you_ doing here?"

And then she realized just _who_ were beside him.

There was Cologne, clutching her gnarled old wooden staff, like a
dried-up plum with two pingpong balls for eyes clinging to a tree
branch. There, too, was Ukyou Kuonji, who had been mysteriously absent
from class that day, her blue eyes wide with worry and her expression
deathly pale.

And then she noticed the dried tear trails on his cheeks. The tear
trails were nothing new, but the look on his face was enough to make her
stop in her tracks.

"Dad? Wha--what's wrong?" she asked, urgently.

Soun put his hands on his youngest daughter's shoulders, trying to
keep up a brave face before her. "Akane...something...something terrible
happened to Ranma and the others today..."

=end of Chapter One=

Next: United we stand...