[Ranma/AMG][FanFic] When Bakas Learn Chapter 2

[Hefni]

Disclaimers and Author Rants apply. Please read Foot Notes.

When Bakas Learn
by bluefurball

Chapter 2
==========

"What happened?"

Silence.

"Where am I?"

Even more silence.

"Where is everybody?"

The silence was getting really annoying.

"Why is it so dark here?"

As if in answer, a faint blue glow appeared.

"Huh? Wha-?"

A very curious-looking construct materialized, and it hung in mid-air.
That, at best, was a poor description; there was no air to speak of,
nor was there any point of reference for the construct to float above,
under, inside, or out of.

It was merely there.

What 'it' was also begged an explanation. It was like someone had
woven a mat out of thin strips of soft blue light, and then used the
mat as paper for an elaborate origami sculpture. Each strip of light
was probably polarised, considering that it was darker wherever two
or more strips overlapped each other.

The outline of the structure was a perfect sphere, but the structure
itself resembled a sea-urchin, bristling with soft blue thorns. It
was semi-opaque, and one could see that it was hollow, the way an
origami model should be. The similarity ended there, however, for it
was plain to see that the folds inside the conical thorns and body of
the structure were stretched this way and that, undulating
ceaselessly. Where the folds were stretched, slight gaps could be seen
between the blue strips, and no two folds would be stretched the same
amount. Even the shading of each strip would differ, depending on its
density and how many other strips it obstructed the viewer from
seeing.

Everything was unique, each had a different purpose, the sum of which
was the ethereal construct.

"...What is this?"

No answer came.

"What does it do?"

Silence.

"Damnit! Someone answer me!"

Annoyance gave way to budding anger, fuelled by confusion. A shout of
frustration should ease the anger somewhat, and quell any and all
worries. It should also crush any fear, but that was moot, since Manly
Martial Artists do not feel any fear.

A good strong shout was needed, but none came. The appearance of a
second construct prevented anything more than slack-jawed staring,
coupled with mental gaping. While the first construct was beautiful
and enchanting, the second was awesome.

The newcomer appeared next to the first, dwarfing it by at least a
factor of ten. It looked like a giant golf ball, pocked with small
bumps instead of dimples. They were thorny bumps, for each of them
were indeed a replica of the first construct, gathered into the
outline of a sphere and cut across their equator by a giant
translucent bubble. The bubble was of the same blue mat and was
hollow, just like the first construct. However, where in the first
construct the hollow chamber housed folds of the model, the huge
chamber of the second was filled with helixes that were tightly
wound, bridging two thorny bumps, each on the opposite side of the
sphere. All the helixes passed through the center, and the point of
convergence looked solid, shining like a neon bulb.

Awesome.

Despite the complexity of the constructs, the subconscious somehow had
no doubt that each of them was the product of just one giant mat, each
skillfully folded and contorted beyond belief.

"One big origami..."

Again, as if in answer, something happened.

The first construct began unravelling. It split at its equator, and
from there unravelled the folds, then the thorns, until there was only
the mat of soft blue light.

Not to be outdone, the second construct also began to unravel. The
helixes unwound, and the giant bubble flattened out into a bumpy mat.
That unravelled even more, ridding itself of the thorny bumps, finally
coming to rest as one giant mat, so alluringly blue.

"Kami-sama..."

There was no helping it. The light show was too spectacular to remain
aloof and detached.

The light show was also not over. The giant mat started to fold by
itself, this way and that, very gracefully, until it morphed into its
final form. The remaining mat followed suit, and performed its own
dance, folding, contorting, until it reached its final form.

"What is this? What does all of this mean? _What_?"

While the feelings of awe and astoundment remained, a new one arose.

Familiarity.

Both the constructs seemed familiar, especially the first one. A
mystery: how could something so strange be so familiar? There must be
an explanation... but what? There must be-

"ARRGH!"

Pain? It couldn't be. It felt like it came from the first construct.
_From_ it? That didn't make any sense. There shouldn-

"ARR-"

****

"-RRGHH!!"

Saotome Ranma screamed. It felt like someone was pushing red hot
pokers into his skin. He had come out of unconsciousness many times
before, but never like this. He was used to seeing only blackness,
then gradually regaining his senses.

This time pain flooded his every nerve, and kicked his senses from
zero to overdrive in half a second.

"What's wrong with me?"

He was panting hard. Sweat ran down his face in heavy trickles. Ranma
tried to get his bearings when another jolt of pain kneed him in the
gut. The jolt sent him clutching his sides, curled like a foetus on
the ground.

"Unngghh..."

Ranma did what he could to bite back a scream. Screaming was not
manly. It also spoke of a lack of control, and he needed all the
control he had to figure out what was happening to him. Still curled
on his side, he forced himself to breath evenly, when he felt the
slight twinge in his abdomen.

Another jolt was coming.

(Shitshitshit! What the hell is going on?! That damn Ryouga doesn't
hit this hard! This feels like... like...)

His eyes shot open as realization took him, then he shut them again,
this time in evident concentration and effort. A shudder passed
through him, a warning of the incoming seizure.

Ranma disengaged the First Construct.

All of a sudden a small portal appeared in thin air, and a pile of...
something fell through. The portal disappeared as quickly as it had
appeared.

Immediately a great sense of relief washed over Ranma as the pain
disappeared. He took a few deep breaths, and opened a single eye to
see what it was that had caused him so much pain.

It was Akane's squid.

Ranma sighed. (Stupid Tomboy. Nearly killed me for real...) He then
snickered weakly. (Stupid me. Can't believe I forgot that I folded her
squid. That must've been some fall...)

(Fall?)

He had fallen into the canal. But the ground under him was only
slightly damp, and he was still male. Not the standard outcome of
falling into the canal. Confused, he slowly got up and looked around.
There was nothing to be seen, except the wall of water.

*Thump*

Ranma could only gape as he sat where he fell on his rear. He was
indeed in the canal. He was, however, not in the water.

He was in the center of a perfect circle, about two meters in radius.
As he stood up, he saw that he was in the canal, and as the water
reached the invisible boundary, the water... went elsewhere. There was
no other way to describe it, since the water did not flow around the
invisible barrier. The water was chest level - it must be raining
heavily upstream - and he could see the water _disappear_ as it hit
the barrier, from the surface to the canal bed.

Turning around, he saw that the water on the other side of the barrier
flowed smoothly, as if there had been nothing to impede it.

"What the hell..." he muttered. He had never come across anything like
this. Maybe if he studied the barrier closer. Ranma took slow steps
towards the invisible boundary.

He stopped after seven steps. There was no way he could reach the
barrier. It moved as he did. It stopped as he did.

(I'm the cause of this?)

As he stood and pondered the matter, a movement at the corner of his
eyes caught his attention. Turning, he saw that it was a red plastic
bag, empty and floating on the surface of the water.

It was heading straight for him. Straight for the unseen barrier.

Ranma stood there, very still, not taking his eyes off the piece of
trash as it came closer. He would not blink; he knew something was
going to happen when the bag reached the barrier, and he wanted to see
what it was.

The bag came closer.

Closer.

Just a foot away from the barrier now...

Three inches...

One...

Right before his very eyes, the piece of trash shrunk, and then
disappeared entirely.

"Huh?"

Shrunk? Disappeared? It didn't make any sense. Nothing that evening
had made sense.

Ranma started to scratch the base of his pigtail, wondering about what
just happened, when instinct made him turn around.

The same plastic bag continued to float away from the edge of the
barrier, on the opposite side from where it had disappeared, still in
the same shape as it had been earlier.

(H- how? Where...)

He shook his head. Nothing was making any sense.

With that, he jumped out of the canal, and onto the road besides it.
He started to make his way back to the dojo, too confused to realise
that that was the first time that he had fallen into the canal and
remained male.

Suddenly he froze in mid-step. "Wait a minute!"

(If that first blue thing caused the hidden weapon move, then
maybe...)

Ranma closed his eyes, and after a moment felt what he was looking
for. A sudden focus crossed his expression, and a moment later he felt
as if someone had pulled away layers of uncomfortably hot blankets.

(Ahh... much better. What the heck was- was...)

Ranma suddenly felt very tired, and his eyes wouldn't stay open.

(...was...)

He keeled, and everything went black.

Again.

**********

Darkness.

Light.

A familiar ceiling.

"Damn. Who the hell shoved their lifetime supply of being knocked out
onto me?" Ranma sighed.

Of course, coming from someone who was coming out of unconsciousness,
it sounded more like "dmooshvdrpplynokontmehuuuuuh".

He waited for a few minutes, allowing his view to focus properly.

"Heh. Toufuu's place. I could recognize that ceiling with a blindfold
on now," he muttered to himself. He paused, gathered his breath, and
started to move into a sitting position.

"No, no, no, there will be none of that for you," he heard a gentle
voice, accompanying soft footsteps that seemingly appeared out of
nowhere. Ranma felt a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down.

"Oh, hiya Doc."

"Hello yourself, Ranma. Glad that you've decided to wake up and join
the world again." Ranma was looking up at the ceiling, too tired to
look around, but he could hear the smile in Toufuu's voice.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't much of a nap. I don't think I wanted it in the
first place."

"Nap?" the smile in the voice turned into concern. "Being unconscious
for three days qualifies more as a coma then a 'nap', Ranma-kun."

Ranma whirled his head to look at Toufuu "What!? Three-"

"Ah! Please don't do that Ranma. Your motor function is just coming
back. It wouldn't do to shock them."

The pigtailed boy eased his tensed muscles and exhaled loudly.

"Yes Ranma. Three days. It's Tuesday evening now."

"Crap."

"That quite summed up my response when Fuumei-san and her son brought
you in."

"Who-"

"My regulars, though not as regular as you."

"Oh. Heh."

"I'm going to get you something to eat, then you're going to rest.
When you have enough energy, by that I mean when _I_ decide that
you're strong enough," Ranma smiled weakly at that, " you're going to
tell me what you were doing that almost exhausted your chi supply
completely."

**********
-The Next Day-

Ranma finished the last of his late breakfast, and sat back, patting
his tummy. It was just after ten o'clock, the wall clock told him. He
was feeling a lot better than the night before, and the color of his
face showed it.

Toufuu came in, bearing a clipboard.

"Finished with your patient, Doc?"

The young doctor nodded. "Yes. My next appointment is at eleven
thirty. That gives us some time for a little discussion, don't you
think?"

Ranma grinned. "That means I'm strong enough?"

Toufuu smiled back. "Only to talk, mind you."

"Just between you and me doc, I don't really feel like doing anything
else."

The older man nodded in understanding. "That's why I haven't told
anyone you've come out of your coma."

Ranma let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thanks Doc. I prefer not
to have a circus shoved into my face right now."

"Now, now Ranma. Your family is just concerned, so are your friends.
At least the female half is."

"Mom and the Tendos are alright, but the rest are just gonna be a
pain."

The doctor merely nodded. "Akane stayed by your bed. She said that it
was her fault."

"Huh? She did?"

Toufuu nodded again. "I sent her back though, after you stabilized on
Monday."

Ranma remained quiet.

"Was it her fault, Ranma?"

"Huh? Oh. Uhh... partly. The squid was standard Akane. It got real bad
because I folded it."

"Excuse me Ranma, did you say folded?"

"Uhh... I'm not really sure how to describe it right now. I used
Mousse's Hidden Weapons technique when I pretended to eat the squid.
Heh. Next time I'll just eat the damn thing."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Mousse's technique, Ranma? He taught
you?"

The pigtailed boy grinned. "You remember me asking you how to learn
martial arts moves without asking?"

Toufuu's face lit up. "Of course I do! You've mastered it?!"

Ranma's face was of absolute pride. "Musabetsu Kakuto, Saotome Ryu,
Ten Sen Ken, Kijin Shikaku."

"Kijin Shikaku? Demon God Eyesight?"

"Friendly kami wouldn't leave me sleeping for three days, I think."

"Maybe not. Congratulations, Ranma," said Toufuu, as he reached and
gently clapped Ranma's shoulder. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd
learn it this fast. Or at all. Don't take it the wrong way, but your
Kijin Shikaku is pretty much the Holy Grail of martial arts, Ranma. If
I had to bet on anyone mastering the move, I'd bet on you. But
still... it hasn't even been two weeks since you asked me about it."

The young Saotome had a look of friendly smugness. "Well, when you're
the best..."

Toufuu smiled at his young patient. "No arguments from me," he said.

"Here's how you do it Doc. First you gotta-"

"Hold it, Ranma," Toufuu halted him. "I don't want to know."

"HUH? But Doc, if it weren't for y-"

The doctor finally silenced Ranma with another gesture. Toufuu could
only smile at Ranma's confused look.

"I know I said it's the Holy Grail of martial arts. Mastering the move
will open up many great opportunities for you. But it's not for me."

Seeing Ranma getting more confused, Toufuu continued.

"You're not the only one with an interesting childhood Ranma. Come to
think of it, I was a bit like you. My father trained me since I was
very young."

"Musta been. You're good at the Art, Doc."

Offering a smile and a nod, Toufuu continued "It's just that I've
learned that if you live for the Art, the Art will come to you. If you
live for the challenge, the challenge will come to you."

"Huh?"

"Living for the Art, and for the challenge, will make you very
skillful. However, there is a price."

"Uhh... what price?"

"I don't know Ranma... maybe Jusenkyou curses, multiple fiancees,
rivals, monsters, ghosts. Sound familiar?"

"You're saying..."

"Do you think you'd be as good as you are today if you didn't have all
the excitement thrown at you?"

"Uhh.. yes?"

The doctor grinned. "I'm not questioning your ability Ranma. I'm just
saying you're as good as you are because of continuing challenges. You
live for the Art, and for the challenge. And so the Art comes to you,
as do the challenges. The better and more skilled you are, the bigger
and tougher the challenges."

"Ahh... You don't like the challenges, Doc?"

"I used to revel in them. Now I want a normal life Ranma. There came a
point for me that the excitement was too much."

"What happened? The clinic collapsed too much?"

Toufuu chuckled. "Nothing like that, but close."

"I wanna show you I'm grateful, ya know Doc? I mean, if it weren't for
you, I wouldn't even have learned it."

Pushing up his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Toufuu said "The
only thanks I need from you Ranma, is that you succeed, and that you
put your knowledge to good use."

"If Nabiki said that, Kasumi would call the hospital to have her
checked up in a snap," said Ranma, grinning while snapping his
fingers.

"K- Ka- Ka- Ka-"

Ranma paled. "Oh shit." Toufuu's glasses started to fog over.

"DOC! FIRE! THE CLINIC'S ON FIRE!"

"Huh? Fire? Where, Ranma-kun?" asked the doctor, his glasses clearing.

"Nowhere Doc," gasped Ranma, one hand clenched over his heart.

"Anyway, as I was saying Ranma, thank you for offering to teach me
your technique. But, I have to decline. I like my quiet, normal life."

"Oh. Umm, kay. You tell me if you change your mind, kay Doc?"

"I will, Ranma."

There was a few moments of companiable silence, which Ranma passed by
regulating his breathing in an attempt to speed up his healing. Toufuu
was in deep thought.

"Ranma."

"Yeah, Doc?"

"You very nearly died. Nearly all your chi was spent. Did Mousse's
technique really take up that much energy?"

"Hmm... naah. Not really, Doc. The only trouble the technique gave me
was giving the squid direct contact with my chi. But after I undid
that first blue thing, I-"

"Wait a second. Blue thing? Ranma, I think you better tell me
everything that happened. Don't leave out anything."

**********

Toufuu sat, leaning against the countertop. He gently massaged both
his temples with both his hands, lost in thought.

Delivered to his doorstep, nearly dead.

Recuperating a week faster than he had anticipated, even with his
experience treating the boy.

Revealing that he had mastered the Holy Grail of the Art. Not giving
much thought to having mastered something other people have died
trying to learn, but instead enthused about having stolen a rival's
prized technique, which in comparison pales to said Holy Grail of the
Art.

Had seen in crisp detail what he believed had to have been a chi
pattern/structure. Two chi patterns/structures. Nobody had ever
recorded such a feat.

Discovered in person -- even if by accident -- a mind-boggling martial
arts technique, something akin to one that he had read about only
once, in the translation of a translation _of_ a translation of a
secret text that had predated Japan herself.

Defied death by drowning, by virtue of said mind-boggling technique.
Ironically, the technique itself nearly did him in.

It was like a bizarre resumé.

As experienced and open minded as Toufuu was, he was getting a slight
headache. At the moment he was contemplating the accidental discovery
of a superb technique.

Accidents happen all the time, he knew that much. Accidents are as
much the mother of Invention as Necessity, if not more. But this...

The very magnitude of the 'accident' wanted to make him reach out for
some aspirin.

****

Chaos.

It would have smiled at Toufuu, if it could.

Had it been able to, it would have said smugly, "What did you expect?
It did not matter if his time had come or not, I'm still not done with
him. Yes, I saved him. The boy has a lot to do still. He is my avatar,
after all."

"He's my very best."

"He will be your greatest."

Had Chaos been able to, that was.

****

Saotome Ranma sat on his bed, thinking about what Toufuu had told him.
The doctor had returned to attending his other patients.

(Man! This is great!)

He was also grinning.

(A new move!)

Discovered by accident.

(So??)

This was exactly what he had in mind when he dreamed of the Kijin
Shikaku, all those long days more than a week ago. Just goes to show
how warped some peoples sense of time is.

(I can go thru stuff! Wait... or is that have stuff go through me?
Uhh... who cares?! A new move!)

His joy was barely contained. As it was he looked ready to do a
victory dance even with his condition.Had anyone walked into the room
just then and seen him, chances are they would have gotten very
nervous indeed. Ranma was rubbing his hands in glee, with a grinning
face that promised mischief and havoc to Nerima.

The young Saotome was looking forward to having some fun with some key
figures in the ward.

(Ryouga's gonna pop a vein! Vein? He's gonna go on a rampage!) Image
of a steaming Ryouga attacking him for having dared to come up with
such a cool move appeared. (Man he's gonna go nuts!)

(Ohh yeah! The ghoul can't do her shiatsu on me no more! Heh heh heh.
A super cool move that the Amazons don't have. Wonder what she'll do.
Probably demand that I show it to her. Hah! As if I'm gonna do that!)
A picture of him gloating in front of an impotently furious Cologne
popped into his head. (She'll probably have Shampoo try harder ta get
me into the tribe...)

Ranma's face lost a bit of glee and enthusiasm.

(Shampoo equals Mousse.)

(If Shampoo comes, so will Ucch- Ukyou.)

The smile lessened.

(The tomboy's gonna get jealous again. Heh.)

(Nabiki...)

His face was in a frown by then.

(Kami knows who she'd tell. Money grabbin...) Ranma's thought
degenerated into a few choice curses.

(Definitely the Kunos. Kodachi's gonna go nuts when she sees Shampoo
and Ucch- Ukyou there, and Kuno will think I'm a damned sorceror for
real.)

The frown continued, then turned into a smirk.

(Heh. Let them come. Saotome Ranma's gonna seriously kick some ass!
Yeah!)

Another image came into his mind, this time of him standing in an
Oh-So-Cool pose, unscathed as neither rivals nor admirers could touch
him. A second image popped up, with him standing victorious and
laughing before a background of streamers, confetti, orchestras and
victory banners carried by chirping birds, as his bruised rivals
weakly beat the ground, crying in abject failure. Ukyou, Shampoo and
Kodachi crying at the side for failing to even touch him, with Akane
in the dojo working steam off because she couldn't mallet him anymore.

Ranma could nearly taste the sweetness of the moment, and his mirth
showed it. (Heh heh heh. I am so gonna kick their asses! Not that I
don't beat up those three everytime...)

(Those idiots will try their best though... heh. Man, the house's
gonna be a mess. And they still can't beat m-...)

His expression suddenly changed, from gleeful to a slight frown.

Scenes from the aftermath of the wedding attempt flashed through his
mind's eye. He recalled vividly how Kasumi diligently worked to clear
the mess, obviously tired to anyone who paid attention, hiding it with
sheer discipline so as to appear cheerful, even then.

He saw Tendo-san's face as the older man sighed at the destruction of
his beloved dojo and house.

Ranma recalled how guilty his mother's eyes seemed as she saw her host
sigh. She felt guilt and shame because her son was the reason of the
destruction. Soun's kindness should have been repaid in the same, not
in a show of hostility. It did not matter that others had done the
damaging; as guests they were responsible, as the intruders had come
for _them_. Mostly, anyway.

He understood how his mother felt, but he also knew Tendo-san's
feelings. The man did not blame the Saotomes in the slightest; he knew
the risks of what he wanted to do and accepted them. The wedding would
have been a success had it not been for the attackers. It might seem
deeper than the pigtailed youth could understand, but like Ranma,
Tendo-san was a martial artist; he understood these things, and lived
by them. They were alike.

Besides, it was his daughter who had tipped off the uninvited guests.

(Nabiki...)

The young Saotome sighed. With a technique that defied physics, Kami
above knew what the girl would do with the information. Even if he
faced Nabiki about it, she would wave aside his complaints. She always
had answers for everything, a dozen reasons ready at hand.

(And she does it all like it's nothin'.)

Brash and confident as he was, Ranma knew he was outclassed in the
reasoning area. Nabiki was the master there, and how could he ignore
the facts that she shoved into his face? Nevermind that she had to
manipulate half-truths, inveigled people -- namely him -- or had just
plain lied to do so; it was hard to deny her reasoning. Especially if
one lacked the knowledge and experience.

That, and a backbone.

He sighed again.

(What to do what to do wh-)

"Ranma!"

The boy turned towards the voice, broken out of his musings.

To find that he couldn't breathe.

Saotome Nodoka hugged her beloved son tightly, gushing about her
beloved manly son, how she had nearly lost him, and so on, and so
forth.

****

A more composed Saotome Nodoka sat in a chair by Ranma's bedside. Her
son, no longer asphyxiating, was inspecting the food she had brought.
He did a little sampling as he went through them, of course.

"Unagi, ebi tempura, takoyaki.. mom! You brought all my favourites!
Did Doc tell ya I woke up?"

"No dear, he did not. I was thinking of waving them under your nose to
get you out of your coma."

Ranma gave her an incredulous look. "Mom?"

"Well, you are your father's son."

His expression changed to one of sheepishness, and he only managed a
weak "Heh heh."

"Ranma dear," Nodoka's expression turned slightly serious, "Doctor
Toufuu said you nearly died. What in the name of the Kami happened?"

"Uhh... I... was trying out a new technique."

"A martial arts technique, Ranma?"

He nodded.

"Did it work?"

He didn't answer, but looked at his hands. He was obviously trying to
find an answer, looking very thoughtful as he twiddled his fingers.

Ranma looked up and into his mother's eyes.

He would not bring any more destruction to the Tendo Dojo. He will not
have his mother suffer any guilt, not even the slightest.

"Naah Mom. It didn't. Went haywire is more like it."

His mother nodded in understanding. "I'm sure you'll get it next time,
dear."

Ranma offered his mother a wide grin. "Of course I will, Mom. Saotome
Ranma never gives up, and always gets his... err... move. Heh."

Nodoka got up from her seat, stepped forward, and hugged him tightly,
though not as crushing as before. "Oh Ranma, you make your mother so
proud. To me you're already a man amongst men, but you're taking it
even further."

Ranma slowly returned his mother's embrace, a puzzled expression on
his face.

"Uhh... even further? Err... whaddaya mean, Mom?"

His mother broke the embrace, and looked straight into his eyes.

"You're a superb martial artist, Ranma, and you do it so well because
you truly put your heart into it. Now, you're going to do the same
with your studies, I can only imagine how well you are going to do at
school."

Nodoka's eyes had started to look slightly dewy.

"At first I thought you were going to focus slightly less on the Art;
study does take up quite a bit of your time, after all. But now I
stand here, I see that you are devoted as ever to our family's Art.
Not even a near death experience deters you."

The Saotome matriarch had shed some tears, and she bowed her head so
that her son would not have to see them. She pulled out a handkerchief
and gently dabbed at her tears.

"I am sorry to cry and embarrass you, my son, but I'm so proud of you.
All of this... means so very much to me."

"Uhh..." the pigtailed boy struggled to find something to offer his
mother, "it... it's okay Mom. I'm not embarrassed or nothin'."

Nodoka dabbed at her eyes once again, and looked up, smiling at her
son. "That's 'not embarrassed or anything', dear."

"Uhh... right. Mom, if you don't mind me asking, why does it mean so
much to you? Not that I have a problem with it or anythin', ya know...
I'm... ah... curious."

Smiling at her quizzical son, she stepped back, and sat on the chair.
"It is every mother's dream that her child be successful, no matter
what he or she does. In your case Ranma, you have done me proud by
excelling at your Art. However, your pursuit of the Art has made you
neglect your studies. Now, you seek to correct that. I was so happy
when you made that dinner announcement on Saturday. To have one's son
excel in one field, is one thing, Ranma. To have him succeed in two
opposing areas..." Nodoka didn't finish her sentence, but merely
smiled proudly at her son.

Ranma was starting to blush a little; he had never been praised this
much before. To have his mother say all that had been said... He did
his best not to choke on his words.

"Mom, if it meant so much to you that I do well in my studies, why
didn't you say anything earlier?"

Her shoulders sagged slightly, as her eyes turned a trifle sad. "I
could have, couldn't I?"

Ranma nodded.

"And you would have done as I had asked, wouldn't you, dear?"

"Yeah, Mom. You only had to ask."

Nodoka sighed softly, nearly inaudibly.

"Shortly after your fifth birthday, your father took you on that
training journey. I tried to stop him, but he convinced me that it
would be for the best. Although you are now cursed to turn female with
cold water, it has only made you far stronger. If anything, you are
more manly _because_ of the curse. From what I have seen so far, you
try harder to prove yourself. The trials and tribulations you have
gone through are fit for the lifetimes of five people, Ranma, not one.
You struggle to be the best, no matter how demanding the situation
is."

Pride flooded his chest, though he did not look it; his mother's
acknowledgement, in so many words, had made so much of his pain
worthwhile.

Nodoka continued, "Therein lies the problem, Ranma. For ten years,
your father had demanded so much from you. He had to have demanded so
much, else you would not be this good, this young."

Ranma nodded his assent.

"Your training demands your utmost concentration. Your rivals demand
that you fight your hardest, demand that you lose and prove their
superiority. Your suitors demand your attention, your love, that you
return what they feel for you. The Amazon matriarch demands that you
bow to their laws and return to their lands. Master Happousai demands
that you show him respect, though it is more to let him have his
errant ways with the town. Tendo-san demands that you marry one of his
daughters and join our families, for the sake of honour."

By then Nodoka was looking at her hands, which were on her lap.

"Even- Even I demanded so much of you," she said, nearly whispering.
"That contract."

"Mom-"

Nodoka shushed him, cutting off her son's protest. "It is the truth,
dear."

Ranma had nothing to say to that.

"I asked Kasumi, about how you first knew of me. She told me that
until a few months ago, you did not even know that you had a mother,
Ranma." Nodoka sounded as if she was going to cry again.

"Uhh... Mom... I-"

His mother silenced him with a small gesture.

"It is not your fault, dear. What I'm trying to say is, is that I have
been absent from you life for so long, that I feel that I have no
place in your life anymore. I didn't know anything about you. Not what
you're like, not what your favourite food is, not even what you look
like..."

Another soft sob escaped her. "Even the people who shout for your
death know you more than I did. _They_ had more to do with you than I.
It was as if I had all but abandoned my one and only child. I
certainly have no right to _demand_ anything from you, Ranma. It is a
mother's right to ask a of her flesh and blood, but right now it feels
so wrong."

"I didn't feel it before, but I do, now, " Nodoka said under her
breath, as if to herself.

Ranma could only stare at his mother, who was evidently trying to hold
back the tears, and failing. Her shoulders shook, and the sight broke
her son's heart.

The youth was at a loss. Nothing in his training had prepared him for
this. Racking his brains, he finally got off the bed, went to his
mother's side, and hugged her close. Nodoka hugged him in return,
still crying silently.

"Uhh... don't cry Mom. Errmm... uhh... it's not your fault either, ya
know? We all hadta do what we hadta do... uhh..."

Internally, Ranma beat his head, trying to find something appropriate
to say to his mother.

"Errmm... what's passed, is in the past... now that you're here...
you're... as much of my life as Pops, ya know? Maybe even more... I
know you take better care of me than he does. Uhh... you're the best
Mom a guy could ever have," he said, still hugging his mother.

"Besides, you don't hafta demand anythin', ya know. You're my Mom,
always have been, always will be. All you ever hafta do is ask."

The only reply he got was the tightening of his mother's embrace. It
did not crush him, but told him that what he had said was what his
mother had dearly needed to hear.

****
-A little later-

Ranma was gobbling down the food that his mother had brought.

Nodoka was sipping her tea, poured from her flask. "Ranma dear, that
food isn't going anywhere. Why don't you slow down? It will taste
better that way."

He promptly acquiesced, and the slight blur in front of him solidified
in mid-air into a hand bearing a pair of chopsticks, slowly delivering
a payload of cured weiner octupus.

"Mmm mmm... these are great Mom."

"I'll be sure to tell Kasumi you said that. She made that one."

"Kasumi made this? Mmm... now there's a Tendo that can really cook."

Nodoka glanced at Ranma slyly, who was about to swallow a prawn. "Oh?
What about Akane?"

"Haack!" Ranma hacked and coughed and sputtered immediately, as the
memory of the sight and chi-taste of the squid flashed back to him. It
lasted for half a minute, before he finally caught himself.

"Uhh... sorry 'bout that Mom. Anyway, I said 'now there's a Tendo that
can REALLY cook.'"

"Really, dear? As I recall, someone had dove -- nearly literally --
into a bowl of curry last Saturday evening. In fact, I had never seen
him devour Kasumi's curry quite like that. I assure you, Kasumi did
not even touch a speck of curry powder on that day."

"Uhh... ahhh... well..."

Nodoka looked at her son slyly as he tried to counter her words. "I
think his words were, and I quote, 'This curry is great!'" she
mimicked, deepening her voice a little to complete the effect.

"That... was... umm... I mean..."

"He hardly said anything to his mother during dinner. He merely
grunted, as he shovelled the curry into his mouth. Tsk tsk. Can you
imagine that?" asked Nodoka. She smugly sipped her tea.

Her son threw up his hands. "All right! She cooks a real mean curry!"

"'A real mean curry', Ranma? Is that all?"

The pigtailed boy spared her a momentary look of utter hopelessness.
He drew in a breath and said, "It was the best curry I've ever had."

His shoulders then slumped and he sighed exaggeratedly, as if he had
just been relieved of a great burden.

"_Really_?" Nodoka squaled. "Ooh, wait 'till Akane-chan hears this!"

"Huh? Ahh-- Uhh... emm.. Moooommm!" the poor boy was quite red.

"Now, now, Ranma," soothed his mother, patting his hand. "You simply
_must_ learn to give praise accordingly. You will have more allies
that way."

"Tell me about it," grumbled the boy, as he remembered how he had told
someone that 'she was cute' all those months ago.

"_Deserving_ praise, Ranma. Flattering someone to get out of trouble
will almost always backfire, I assure you."

"Uhh..." Great. His mother was psychic. "Umm... I'll keep that in
mind, Mom."

"I'm sure you will, dear," said Nodoka. "Or do you actually want a new
fiancée?"

Immediately Ranma went into another hacking/coughing session, this one
lasting for about a full minute. He struggled to get his breath, and
turned to his mother.

"Moommm!"

Nodoka broke into peals of laughter. It was a few moments before she
managed to compose herself. "Oh I'm sorry dear, but you looked so
adorable."

"Huh?" Ranma didn't know what else to say. "Umm... if you say so, Mom.
And no, I ain't lookin' for a new fiancée. Ucch- Ukyou by herself is
one too many."

"Oh?" quizzed Nodoka, "I thought you called her 'Ucchan', Ranma dear?
That's what you call your best friend, don't you?"

The boy heaved a sigh. "Best friends don't crash your wedding, Mom."

Nodoka was inscrutable. "I see. Did you want to get married, then?"

"It's not about getting married, Mom. It's about letting me live my
life. It's about respecting my decisions. Nobody actually listens to
what I actually want to do!"

It was Nodoka's turn to sigh, although very softly. "Including me."

"I didn't say that!" Ranma nearly shouted.

"But it's true, isn't it?" his mother said softly.

"No-"

Nodoka's soft hand on his cut off his denial.

"It is time we faced the truth, dear."

Ranma could only nod dumbly.

"What about Akane?"

"Huh? What about the tomboy?"

"Does she listen to what you want to say or do?"

"Uh... well... she keeps shovin' that sludge she calls her cookin' in
my face all the time..." his sentence trailed off as Nodoka gave him a
very stern look.

(Sheesh... Forgot that ya avoided lookin' me in the eyes when she
shoved that squid in my face, eh Mom?)

"Heh... umm... the tomboy? She... uhh... doesn't twist my arm or
nothin'... not even... uhh... at the wedding. She doesn't listen to my
side of the story much," Nodoka raised an eyebrow at that, unnoticed
by her son, "but she... uh... never tried ta make me do stuff I really
don't wanna."

('Cept make me eat her cooking...)

"I see. Does Ukyou... twist your arm, Ranma? Borrowing your
expression, that is."

"Umm... Sometimes."

"Hence your being upset with her."

Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I guess... and..."

"Oh?" Nodoka was intrigued. "Would you share it with me, dear?"

Pausing, he said, "Not that I wanted ta get married or nothin',
but..."

"Go on."

"It was a special day, ya know? For a girl... uh... for..."

"You're upset because Ukyou ruined Akane's special day, Ranma?"

"Not that I give a hoot 'bout the tomboy or nothin'... heh. It's just
that there are some things ya don't do, if you get my drift. I...
still consider Ucchan a friend, but..."

His mother looked at him inscrutably, silent for a few moments, which
he spent getting his breath back. The conversation was exhausting.

"It seems to me, Ranma, that you're upset with Ukyou, but not too
upset. However, you're still treating her like you're really upset
because you don't know what else to do."

"I'm treating her like I'm really upset 'cuz I'm really upset!"

Nodoka stared at her son, taken aback by Ranma's sudden outburst.

"Ucchan's the last person I expected to do what she did, Mom! She's my
best friend! She should've asked me what I wanted! Not like I know
what the hell- uh... heck I want, but it was the right thing to do!
It's what friends do!"

Ranma broke off his tirade and looked at his mom a bit nervously.
"That's what friends do, right?"

Nodoka fought off a giggle. "Yes, dear. That is what a friend would
do."

"And she crashed the place!" he abruptly continued, vindicated. "No
questions, no nothing! She just walked in and threw bombs! Like she
wasn't even my friend!"

"You know what makes it worse, Mom? It's not really her fault! I can't
really blame her for what she did, as much as I want to. I'm mad at
her, but I'm not! Her fiancé was about to get hitched to someone else,
for Kami's sake! I mean, what else could she have done?"

Nodoka nodded, "Thus she came in like a jilted lover."

"But we're not lovers! For ten years I thought that she was a guy!
>From the moment we met! Almost like a brother!" He paused. "Who wants
to marry me... some brother, huh?"

Ranma looked at his mother, eyes slightly drooped. "I should be angry,
and I am. I shouldn't be angry, and I'm not."

"Angry? With whom, dear?" his mother prodded.

"With Ucchan. Shampoo. Heck, even Pops."

The youth sighed again, looking very tired. "I don't know what to do,
Mom. I really don't. Everybody knows it, and everybody thinks I should
do things their way." He gazed into the ceiling, eyes unfocused.
"Everybody."

"Everybody, dear?"

"Everybody but the tomboy," the boy replied softly, the effort of the
conversation finally taking its toll on his convalescing body. "Maybe
that's why I like her more than everyone else."

Her eyes widened. Had Ranma just said what she thought he just said?

"But I can't show that I like her... 'cuz I don't know what I'm really
feeling. And 'cuz I don't know what I want. I don't know even know
what to do with her... even if she's the one I really-" Ranma yawned,
and continued in a lower voice, fatigue settling deeper, "- that I
really want."

Nodoka merely looked at her son, wondering if Ranma fully realized
what he was saying. She doubted it; he looked more asleep than awake.

"I don't want to hurt her. Not her."

"At least I know..." Ranma yawned again, "I love my Mom."

With that, Ranma fell into a deep slumber, leaving Nodoka to stare at
him with dewy eyes. Then her tears flowed. Her son was confused,
angry, sad, frustrated, all at once. So young, yet so burdened, and
there was nothing she could do. The threads in play ran longer than
the Saotome's loom.

Nodoka settled to watch over her sleeping child. She would pray that
he found peace in his sleep, at least.

**********
-Furinkan High, Friday-

"Saotome!"

Kuno Tatewaki, captain of the Furinkan High Kendo team, stood
imperiously upon the path between the school gates and doors. He was,
as usual, the very embodiment of righteous fury against The Foul Magus
Saotome.

"Hmm? Oh... morning, moron."

Saotome Ranma, resident living embodiment of Chaos and unofficial
patron god of Martial Arts of Furinkan, plodded morosely upon said
path. He was, at the moment, the very picture of one who is not bright
and chipper.

"Insolent cur! You shouwpubbth-"

It was hard to vocalize one's thoughts through a mouthful of dirt and
grass, laced with a touch of unconsciousness, as Kuno then found out.

Again.

"Shithead," muttered the young Saotome, lowering his arm from the
single uppercut to Kuno's solar plexus. Though nearly inaudible, the
phrase was somehow carried by a slight breeze, that all on the path
heard it. All of a sudden there was an glaring absence of students on
the paved footway between Ranma and the school entrance.

A slightly irritated Ranma was quite frequently seen.

One showing even a semblance of a temper was not. The prudent students
of Furinkan High had acted accordingly.

Ranma continued walking down the path, oblivious to his unintentional
monoply. Akane walked quietly alongside him, just behind his right
shoulder. She waved to some of her friends, mouthing "good morning" as
she did so, and continued walking with her fiancé, looking slightly
concerned. Like the rest of the observing students, she was wondering
what was bothering Ranma.

The reason for Ranma's extreme irritation was quite simple really,
although for a normal person it would sound quite... strange.

Starting that day, Saotome Ranma had to do well in school.

No more sleeping in class.

No more automatic backhands against flying board erasers in his sleep.

No more ignoring the teacher in favour of sitting crosslegged on his
chair while eating a bento, ill-hidden by a book spread wide and made
to stand.

No more skipping classes with Hiroshi and Daisuke to go to the arcade
or their cafe haunts.

(My life sucks.)

Having to listen to Hinako's lectures.

(My life really sucks.)

Having to stay awake through History.

(Kami-sama my life really sucks.)

And Mathematics.

(Shit.)

Get the best grades he possibly could in all his subjects.

*Sigh*

Standing before the door of his classroom, he took a deep breath.

(Suck it up and take it like a man, Saotome. What would Pops say if he
saw you like this?)

His mood improved slightly, but was laced with irritation at his panda
father. Ranma didn't feel like starting the school day with thoughts
of his old man.

(Do it for Mom. Do it for Mom. Do it for Mom. Do it...)

Repeating the mantra to himself, he stepped into classroom 2-F.

****

"Good morning everyone!"

Ninomiya Hinako bounced into the classroom, carrying her books, a
lollipop in her mouth.

Ranma merely grumbled.

"Mister Saotome, you're back!" exclaimed the teacher, her cute smile
widening as she bounced over to his desk.

"Yeah, yeah," the boy replied.

Hinako beamed at his reply, seemingly uncaring of her student's
grumpy, nearly rude attitude. She was just glad to have him back.
Furinkan just wasn't the same without her most problematic student. He
was, after all, the reason for her transfer to Furinkan. His sullen
demeanour was a sure sign that he was being his usual delinquent self.

Finally, things were getting back to normal.

Still smiling warmly at Ranma, the juvenile teacher gave a small,
contented sigh; it felt so good to be on familiar grounds again.

"Uhh..."

Ranma was starting to fidget. His teacher was still giving him that
warm smile. Smiles are fine. He didn't mind smiles.

A warm smile with a slightly lingering gaze, however, spelled definite
trouble. It didn't matter if the smile was platonic, Trouble would
just invite itself in if the smile persisted.

"Sensei..."

"Hmm?" replied the teacher, still half immersed in reverie.

"Sensei!"

The shout finally brought Hinako back into the classroom. "Yes, Miss
Tendo?"

Maintaining a look that would have withered lesser women, Akane
replied, "Roll call."

"Hmm? Oh!" Hinako bounded over to the teachers table, and opened the
class register. With the lollipop still dangling from her mouth, she
went through the list.

****

"Darn..." muttered Hinako as the chalk she was holding broke on the
last character she was writing. She rubbed on the extended stroke with
a finger, placed a period, and turned to face her students.

"Now, who can give me the translation for... for... Mister Saotome!"

"Huh?" said the boy, clearly bewildered. He had been trying to
translate 'Hideki bought himself a can of cold coffee.' English was so
damn hard.

"What are you doing?" By then the dimunitive teacher was standing in
front of his desk, arms akimbo.

"Huh?" was all Ranma could manage, "I'm doing what you told the class
ta do, what's it look like?"

Hinako immediately took a reflexive step backwards. "You..." Ranma had
to strain to hear what she was saying.

With a look of near horror, she exclaimed "You're paying attention!"

That did it. More than twenty heads snapped around to look at Ranma,
who was wide awake, not eating, and had a _pencil_ in his hand.

The classroom was suddenly very, very quiet.

"Well, D~UH!" Ranma answered irritably. He had heard someone use that
last word a few weeks ago, and it suited the moment perfectly, he
thought.

A small, faint squeaking and scratching sound came, followed by
another, another, another, and another. Within ten seconds, the class
again fell into a pocket of silence.

By then Ranma had his own constituency within the classroom. The desks
around his, save Akane's, were at least four feet away from his.

One of the students shivered. He had left his good luck charm in his
locker. How was he to know Saotome was going to pull a weird one?! The
guy looked normal today! Sure, he had looked kinda grumpy in the
morning, but he put Kuno out like a light! He hadn't done that for
weeks! Practically everybody had big goofy grins when Ranma had
disappeared past the school doors! Violence had returned to Furinkan!
Chaos! Mass destruction! _Everybody_ agreed life would be normal
again! Even the teachers! It made sense to leave the charms!

Now _this_. It was all the boy could do to stop from gibbering. The
sentiment was particularly common in the classroom at the moment.

Ranma was, understandably irritated. "What the _hell_ is wrong with ya
people?"

After taking a few moments to compose herself, Hinako finally crossed
her arms and said, "Care to explain yourself, Mister Saotome?"

"What?" Ranma shot up from his seat, wearing an expression that said
'You hafta be shittin' me.'

"You hafta be shittin' me!"

Normally, he wouldn't have used that kind of language on a teacher,
but the day was really getting to him.

"This is a school! I'm here to learn somethin'! _You_ are supposed to
teach me! You were teaching! I was learning! What's there to
explain?!"

Hinako had taken another step backwards, one of her arms held out in
front of her, bent at the elbow, as if to shield herself. Her face
held a look of utter disbelief.

"That can't be!" she exclaimed. Hinako told herself that she had heard
him wrong. Ranma had fought her every attempt to educate him tooth
and nail. One morning he just shows up ready to be taught? It couldn't
be. Her world as she knew it was not dangerously wrong. She was safe,
she had to be! Ranma _must_ be kidding with her!

"Mister Saotome," she said in a slightly quivering voice, "you're
making a joke, right?"

Her voice came out soft, nearly pleading.

Heaving a big, heavy sigh, Ranma lifted the book he was writing on,
and showed a partly completed sentence. "I was trying to translate the
sentence you wrote on the board, sensei."

The young teacher didn't even see the book he was showing her. She was
looking straight into his eyes, her face showing the struggle within.
The struggle to rationalize the irrational, to understand the
incomprehensible. Finally, she reached a conclusion.

"You're up to something!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at Ranma.

"_WHAT_?!"

Ranma's expression now read as 'Are you out of your freakin' mind?'

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?!" he wasn't being particularly
choosy of his words at the moment, and Hinako didn't even seem to
notice. Ranma turned to look at his classmates.

To see them nod in agreement with Hinako.

The young Saotome fell to his seat, leaned back, and slapped his
forehead. Putting his hand down, he looked at his classmates again.
"You people don't believe I'm studying, just like you?"

All around, heads shook. Some slowly, others Soun-like -- near
epileptic. Hinako was among the slower ones.

Again, Ranma sighed. This couldn't be happening to him. All he wanted
to do was study and make his mother proud of him. Now this.

He turned to look at Akane, hoping she could suggest something.

Akane shrugged, looking unsure of the situation.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, Ranma turned to Hinako. Maybe some
sarcasm would work; anything, and that meant _anything_, was better
than this, he was _sure_ of it.

"Fine. I'm JUST pretending to study. I'm using it as a cover for my
real plans. I'm actually ogling you, Hinako-sensei. I'm using my every
waking moment to have a really good look at your body, in both forms."

By then, Hinako was covering her mouth daintily, wearing an
inscrutable expression. Finally, she said, "Really?"

"NO!" Ranma shot out of his seat, "I'm here to study! Didn't you hear
me earlier?!"

It was no use. Hinako was lost in the recesses of her mind,
contemplating Ranma's 'secret plan.' The class was abuzz with talk of
the latest development.

"It makes sense, you know. He was practically staring at her!"

"Wow, who knew? All this while he pretended to fight Hinako-sensei,
but he actually has the hots for her!"

"I _told_ you so! Remember how he used to grab Hinako-sensei's
breasts? He said it was a technique!" A giggle was heard. "That's some
technique! I'll bet he's hooked on the sensei!"

"I wouldn't blame him; Hinako's damn hot!"

"You think Hinako-sensei's hooked on him too?"

"Say... now _there's_ a thought!"

It crossed Ranma's mind that maybe, just maybe, this sarcasm thing
wasn't much better.

"It all makes sense! Akane's always calling him a pervert! The poor
guy's just being himself!"

"Hey! You're right!"

"I think you just hit the jackpot, man!"

Ranma could only look and listen to all of it, completely slackjawed.
A few more minutes passed that way, until his brain finally resumed
control of his jaw.

"OI!!"

Everybody clammed up and turned to look at him.

"Are you people _NUTS_?" the poor boy was very nearly tearing his hair
out.

The response to his question was... disconcerting. One by one, a look
of smiling approval was directed his way by his classmates. A common
thought ran through many, many minds.

*The poor guy's just being himself.*

"Arrrghhhh!!" Poor Ranma couldn't take it anymore. He turned to Akane
for help.

He found none. Apparently Akane's system had locked up during his
'admission to a secret plan.' The girl sat unmoving, looking at him
with vacant, shocked eyes.

(Oh shit.) His one hope for support was catatonic.

Desperate, he turned to face Hinako.

"Sensei?" his voice was nearly pleading.

Hinako was still staring at him with that inscrutable look.

"Sensei?" Ranma's voice rose a little.

It worked. Slowly, Hinako lowered her hand from her mouth, and smiled
shyly at him.

"You should have said so earlier, Ranma-kun. You gave me quite a
fright."

"Wha-....?" Ranma couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You have my permission to... continue with your plan, Ranma-kun,"
said Hinako, as she smartly turned around and walked to the front of
the class. There, she picked up her book, and started to continue
teaching.

Suddenly a thought struck her, and she moved towards the door, and
stepped out. Two moments later, she stepped back in.

Correction. Adult Hinako stepped back in. Her clothes stretched, this
way and that, and it bulged here, curved there.

"Better, Ranma-kun?" she asked, smiling shyly at him.

Saotome Ranma could only bang his head on his desk, again, and again,
and again, and...

**********

"Tadaima," called out a tired, flat voice.

Stepping out of a doorway, Nodoka saw her son trudge into the house
proper from the foyer. He was looking very sullen, and his shoulders
drooped.

"Oh dear," she murmured as she hurried to his side. Nodoka gave her
son a once over, and found not even a scratch. "What's wrong, Ranma
dear? Where's Akane?"

Ranma continued to walk, straight into the kitchen, and dropped
himself into a chair. Nodoka moved to the stove to make him some tea.

"Rough day at school, Mom."

In his opinion, 'rough' hardly cut it. First, the big, idiotic
production in Hinako's class. He had managed to stop himself from
banging his head on his desk after five minutes, and did his best to
concentrate on studying. Although he had to work hard at ignoring
Hinako's shy smiles, he did manage to learn _something_.

Then, came math. Though the teacher didn't make a fuss like Hinako
did, the other students noticed that he had been paying attention to
_that_ teacher too! Sure, the teacher was female, but was in her late
thirties and had had a child. Wild speculations were flung back and
forth throughout the class.

Math was followed by History, taught by Fujishima-sensei, a forty-five
year old man with a balding pate, thick glasses and a paunch, all at a
not so impressive five foot two. Still, Ranma paid attention.

Understandably, lunch was a veritable explosion of gossiping and
rumour-mongering. The news -- and all its colourful variants -- spread
like wildfire throughout the school. Those who were still commenting
on Kuno's rapid defeat that morning found more juicy stories about the
school's favourite martial artist and source for entertainment and
gossip - Ranma.

Ranma had the hots for Hinako.

Hinako also had the hots for Ranma.

Ranma had the hots for the math teacher.

Ranma had the hots for Fujishima-sensei. Nearly the whole school gave
disgusted looks at that thought. No, Ranma doesn't have the hots for
Fujishima; it didn't make sense. Then...

Ranma _must_ have _another_ ultra secret plan! That thing about ogling
Hinako was just a ruse!

It couldn't be _just_ a ruse! Hinako actually transformed for Ranma!
And she was so shy in front of him! It had to be true! _That_ got a
lot of heads nodding.

Then... that ogling thing must be only part of a bigger, more cunning
plan! More had nodded to that.

But what could the plan be? From there, it all went downhill, as
dozens and dozens of theories, speculations and stabs in the dark were
made.

For once, Nabiki did not make a single yen out of such a juicy topic.
How could she, when she hadn't been privy to the details? That
infuriated her no end, and was the only thing Ranma could name as a
'good thing that happened today'. Anything that ticked off the middle
Tendo was a good thing, in Ranma's books.

Nodoka poured Ranma a mug of tea, and sat in front of him. "My, they
must be pushing students very hard at school these days. Dear, where's
Akane?"

Ranma took a sip of his tea, placed the mug on the table, and then his
face next to it. He sighed heavily, and said "She's with her friends.
She's not talking to me."

"Oh? And why is that, dear?"

"She-" he halted, and sighed again. "Rumours at school. People are
saying that I have a crush on one of the teachers, and that she has a
crush on me, and blah blah blah..."

"Oh my," was all Nodoka could say.

"Whatta buncha goofballs..." muttered Ranma, before he sighed again.
He had never thought he would see what he had seen that day, when
everybody in his school collectively made less sense than Kodachi.

"Ranma, dear?" said Nodoka softly.

Still with his head on the table, he answered, "Yeah, Mom?"

"Is- Are the rumours true?" asked Nodoka seriously.

"What? NO!" Ranma was suddenly sitting up ramrod straight, looking at
his mother in the eyes.

"Now, now, Ranma. Don't get angry at me," soothed Nodoka, patting his
hand. "I was just asking, and I believe you," she said, smiling gently
at her son.

Ranma sighed again. He had been doing that a lot, lately. "Sorry, Mom.
It was crazy at school." He rested his head on the table again. Nodoka
gently reached out, and stroked his hair. Detecting no complaint from
her child, Nodoka continued to run her fingers through his hair, like
she had done when he was much younger and was but an innocent baby on
her lap.

"I can only imagine, dear."

Ranma gave a small nod. "The bad thing is, it's not over. Sure, it's
already the weekend, but Nabiki's gonna be home soon, and she's been
lookin' for me all day. Bet she's pissed. I've been makin' myself
scarce the whole day, and she couldn't make a yen. Heh."

Ranma gave a small smile. It was a small victory, but it bugged
Nabiki, and that was good.

"I see. Are you expecting... retribution, dear?"

"If you mean is she gonna get back at me, yeah. You bet," answered the
boy tiredly. "Man, this sucks. This weekend is gonna suck _bad_. What
really sucks is that I haven't done anythin'!"

Nodoka remained silent for a while. "Ranma, why don't you get out your
backpack?"

That got his attention, and he sat up. "Mom?"

His mother was smiling serenely, as usual. "As I remember, dear, you
still have that technique to practice."

Ranma's brow furrowed. "Technique? Which technique, Mom?"

"The one you told me about at the clinic, dear," she answered. "You're
the heir to our family's Art. It would hardly do for you to be
distracted while you're trying to master a technique, would it now,
dear?"

Realization finally dawned on Ranma, and his face showed it. "A
weekend training trip?" he asked, grinning.

"To a place of your choice, by yourself. Now, you best get your things
together, and hurry. I'll explain to the others later. Oh! And take
your books along, won't you, Ranma?"

Nodding once to his mother, Ranma zipped to the guest room, where
Genma and Nodoka stayed, to get his backpack. Then he rushed to the
dojo, where he now slept, to get his clothes and stuff. He'd get his
own room in a few months, when the Saotome house had been repaired.
For the time being, the dojo was his room. Not that he minded.

Less than five minutes after disappearing from the kitchen, Nodoka met
Ranma at the engawa. "I haven't had time to prepare you anything dear.
Here's some money for food."

Pocketing the money, Ranma then hugged his mother. "Thanks Mom."

She returned his hug, and then broke away. "Keep in mind, Ranma, that
I'm not teaching you to run away from your problems. Always do your
best to face your problems directly. However, when things are not your
fault, you may give yourself the freedom of choice."

Her son nodded. "You better get going, Ranma dear. Just don't forget
to come back now," she added teasingly.

"Don't worry, Mom," said Ranma. "School on Monday. How can I forget?"

Nodoka smiled approvingly as he put on his shoes. As he moved for the
door, Nodoka called out, "Dear, maybe it would best if you didn't make
yourself too visible, hmm?"

Ranma threw his mother a grin. "Gotcha, Mom."

With that, he sneaked out the door, then over the rear gate.

**********

Nature is truly beauteous.

An example of her beauty was currently inching forward quietly on
soft, black paws. Its furry padded feet made hardly any noise, as the
fox sneaked silently, eyes set on the rabbit five meters away. Its
whiskers twitched as it took another quiet step forward; the fox was
agitated, for it had been two days since it last ate. Starved as it
was, the animal resisted the urge to sprint towards its prey right
away. The rabbit was a matured adult, wary and ever watchful; the game
had to be Sneak, Sprint, Surprise.

Now at the very edge of the clearing, the fox coiled itself, preparing
for the dash. It could practically taste the rabbit in its maw.

Sprinting in T minus three.

Two.

O-

"DAMN IT TO HELL!!!"

Frayed nerves, splashed with a shot of shock, sent the fox two feet
into the air, very nearly out of his skin. Head whipping side to side,
it searched for the source of its shock, only to hear the sounds of
fluttering wings and scurrying feet as avians and mammals bolted.

Mammals?

The fox turned to look at where the rabbit was. 'Was' being the
operative word.

It was quite a sight, to see the poor fox pull a Soun.

****

"Damn it to hell baka move!"

Ranma was upset.

"Damned pig-faced FU*KING PISSING bakayarou move!"

Scratch that. He was very upset.

There he was, in a light forest just outside a small town on the very
fringe of the humongous sprawl collectively known as Tokyo. It was one
of the many places that he had camped at during his training trip with
Genma. He had arrived the night before, with the intent of perfecting
his new skills.

The sun was already three quarters past its apex and he had achieved
not even glorified, bilious chi farts.

"Da-"

A sudden flash of lightning from the clear sky cut him off, and the
ominous, rumbling thunder - which, oddly enough, seemed to warn him of
his language - a second later convinced him to drop the matter.

With a sigh, he dropped himself onto his rear, then onto his back,
arms spread out.

(Stupid technique.)

It had seemed like the simplest thing. Concentrate, gather chi and
focus it in the abdomen, then channel the chi and will the it to form
into either one of the constructs he had seen. Not that he could see
the constructs anymore, but each fold, twist and stretch _felt_
unique, and he remembered the sequences by heart.

Nothing.

He had lost count of how many variations to the technique he had
tried, hoping to get some kind of reaction. The young Saotome had
tried emotions, pure will, stances - once even pretending that he
didn't really care if he got the technique or not, then attempting it
_surreptitiously_.

Boy, did he feel like Elmer Fudd trying to sneak up on Bugs Bunny with
that one.

(What the hell am I doing wrong?)

He continued to wonder, as he stared into the sky, absently tracing
the outline of the occasional cloud. A gentle breeze wafted by,
cooling his sweat-slickened skin. The pleasant chill calmed him
somewhat, and eased his frustration over his failure to master a
technique after eleven hours of trying. It was a feeling known to
martial arts masters around the world; true, they felt it after years
of trying -- not hours, but Saotome Ranma had standards to keep.

Ranma felt another breeze, gentle and cooling, and he closed his eyes
to savour the moment as he felt himself soothed. It had been quite a
while since he had felt that calm, what with the engagements,
challengers, teachers from hell, near death experiences.

(Maybe I should've run away from Pop and stayed on my own. Stay here
in the woods.)

(Yup, right after Jusenkyou.)

Suddenly a loud rumble reached his ears. His eyes snapped open, for a
moment searching the sky for storm clouds, when he realized that it
was his empty stomach that made the sound.

It was a good thing, he realized, that he didn't run away after
Jusenkyou. If he had, he would never have tasted Kasumi's cooking, a
great loss by any standard.

(Kasumi...)

He had never told anyone, but he was in awe of the eldest of the Tendo
sisters. She kept calm and cheerful -- honestly so -- come what may:
monsters, Amazons, onis, trolls, ghosts. The only time he thought he
saw a forced smile on Kasumi was after the near-wedding, while
cleaning up the mess.

The near-wedding.

Akane.

It seemed nearly bizarre, that Akane was related to Kasumi. The two
were so... different. Worlds apart even. The two shared a similarity,
however -- they both had warm, beautiful smiles. When Akane wasn't
angry, that was.

Brilliant smiles that warmed the heart, calming frayed nerves and
apprehension. The kind one would want to see when coming home after a
long, hard day. A smile that -

The clearing was suddenly filled with the sound of flesh striking
flesh rapidly, repeatedly.

(Baka,) thought Ranma. His cheeks and palms stung, but he'd stopped
_that_ train of thought.

His stomach grumbled again, demanding to be fed. Ranma sat up, sighing
as he did. He really didn't feel like eating canned food that night.

(I think I'll have some rabbit...)

He got up, engaged his Kijin Shikaku and went to look for animal life
signatures.

(Gonna get that move right after dinner... Yeah!)

**********

(Right after dinner my ass.)

Slowly, Ranma bit into the skewered pieces of meat, barbequed to just
before the meat was scorched. He slowly chewed his food, sitting under
a tree against which he leaned.

Normally, he would have inhaled the barbequed chicken. At the moment,
however, he didn't feel particularly voracious. He wasn't even
particularly hungry. Ranma had bought the chicken from a yatai just
outside the park he was in because he didn't know what else to do.

It had been twenty six days since that weekend in the forest just
outside of Tokyo. All in all, twenty eight days of training and failed
attempts, each forever burned into his mind. Four weekends worth of
training trips.

All which had amounted to nothing.

Ranma had pushed himself to the limit of his abilities; being Genma's
heir, that was quite a distance. It wasn't enough, it seemed and so
Ranma went beyond himself.

Seeing that technique alone yielded nothing, Ranma turned to physical
training. From the dojo he would sprint to secluded hills or beaches,
to find the biggest boulders he could find. These he pushed, dragged
and as time went on, carried, threw and juggled. Limited strength
wasn't an issue -- that was where chi came in. In fact, chi was the
entire point. Ranma used his chi a lot.

When he felt his reserves drop dangerously low, Ranma would
practically force himself to rest, with every non-vital muscle group
falling limp. Even his nervous system would partially shut down to
minimize energy consumption and replenish his reserves. Within hours,
though of late usually less, he would resume his training.

At least once a day, he would attempt either one or both of the moves
he sought. Every single attempt would fail. He told himself that his
chi wasn't focused enough or wasn't strong enough and he would run off
to push himself further. Other times he felt that he lacked finesse,
thus he made sure that each successive attempt was more controlled
than the last one. Always making sure, always pushing further, always
trying harder.

On top of everything, no one knew of where he went, what he did. After
dinner, he would sneak away quietly to wherever he felt he should
train. At first he would sneak away normally, but after numerous
attempts by various parties to follow him, he employed the Way of the
Silent Thief. It was a sealed technique, he knew, but Saotome Ranma
would be damned if a bunch of curious people stood between him and his
martial arts.

Taking a sip of his soda, Ranma sighed. He felt tired. Really, really
tired. It wasn't physical; that was something he knew how to correct
very quickly. No, his problem was mental fatigue.

(God... my head hurts...)

(Stupid techniques... stupid school... stupid STUPID school! I can't
believe they think I- Argh! They're stupid!)

(Heh. They can't call Saotome Ranma stupid anymore, though. Stupid
guys don't get seventy-three for history. Hah!)

(Damned if I know what I'm gonna use history for, though.)

(God damn! My head hurts...)

(Hmm... that cloud looks like a duck! Heh... wonder what the guy's
doin' right now...)

(Hey! I actually feel better with my head tilted like this!)

(Ohh yeah... this is much better. Man, this is great.)

(Mmm... gonna stay here till-)

"YOU are Saotome Ranma? A kid?"

(Heh. Figures.)

(Danger sense hasn't gone off though.)

(Guess I'll wait.)

(Damn, this is a nice breeze.)

(Mmm... wow. That bakery down the street must've just made a new batch
of bread.)

(Hey... that smells like-)

"Get up kid. This is a challenge."

(Yeah right. Ya don't sound like Herb. Ya don't sound like Saffron.
And c-c-ca- em... can't talk. I'm really gonna get up for ya.)

(Man this breeze is superb...)

(Maybe I should get Mom to cook-)

"What's the matter kid? Too scared that ya hafta pretend not to hear
me?"

(Sigh)

(Maybe-)

"Scared lil kiddies shouldn't walk by themselves. You should stick
with your momma, just like a CHICKEN!!"

Ranma's eyes shot open, quickly narrowing into slits.

****

Akane gripped the handle of her school bag harder. She, along with
just about everyone else present, could feel the suspense and tension
in the air.

(Ranma you baka! What are you doing?)

More than anyone else though, she was overwhelmed with worry for her
fiancé. He had been acting far too strangely for far too long. To make
it worse, it seemed that whatever it was that he was doing didn't
involve her. Her only comfort was the fact that he had left out all of
his other suitors as well.

"Get up kid. This is a challenge," said the challenger.

Taking her eyes off Ranma for a moment, Akane considered the
challenger. The young man -- Akane placed him to be twenty five --
looked fairly powerful, standing six feet tall and built like a prize
heavyweight boxer. He had a menacing countenance, his jeans and muscle
shirt were well worn.

Like the others present, she had heard that someone had come to Nerima
to challenge Ranma and that her fiancé was last seen heading into the
park. She rushed there, along with others eager for a fight.

"What's the matter kid? Too scared that ya hafta pretend not to hear
me?" taunted the young man, sneering.

Looking back at Ranma, Akane felt her worry grow. Ranma should have
answered the challenge by now, smirking with confidence and bouncing
around the challenger.

(What's wrong with you?! You JERK!) Akane unknowingly grit her teeth.

(You act weird for a whole month, you don't tell me what's going on,
and here's someone you can beat up and show how hot a martial artist
you are you won't even get up and fight him and let me know you're
alright!! You are SUCH A JERK!)

A slight blue aura sprang up around Akane. Those nearby took note and
stepped back.

(You're more than a jerk! You're-)

"-a CHICKEN!!"

All of a sudden Ranma's eyes shot open and in the blink of an eye he
was on his feet.

"YESSS!!"

Everybody, including Ranma and the challenger, blinked with an audible
'piku-piku' and turned to regard Akane, who was widely grinning while
looking very relieved, a single arm pumped in a celebratory pose.

Understandably, Akane blushed like mad, and lowered her arm and eyes.

"The name's Senbuzaku Kitaro," Akane heard the challenger announce.
Looking up, she saw that Ranma and Kitaro were regarding each other,
no doubt sizing each other up.

Popping his knuckles, Kitaro said with a menacing grin, "I'm going to
grind you into paste, Black Iron Claw style!"

"Right," Ranma said, his voice as flat as his gaze.

(Black Iron Claw?) thought Akane. She had never heard of it before.

Kitaro lowered himself into a stance, and brought his arms up, That
was when Akane really noticed his arms. They were _muscular_. Not just
muscled but very lean. She could make out each muscle group, even some
muscle strands. Veins ran like pipelines down his biceps and forearms,
and his fingers were in clawing positions.

Akane gasped.

The hands. They looked as if they could tear through a car.

(Be careful, Ranma.)

Kitaro frowned when he noticed that Ranma hadn't gotten into a stance,
merely standing there with a flat gaze.

"Whassa' matter kid? Scared? Then why don't ya go running back to your
momma?"

She saw Ranma tense, then slowly slid into a stance. His arms were
still at his side though. Akane started to wonder about that when
Ranma shot his arms out. In the same heartbeat he snapped them back in
a motion so fast, so strong that the air around him silently exploded
away like a brief gale.

Akane inhaled sharply, as did everyone else.

Kitaro gulped audibly. No one could fault him, though.

(What was that?) thought the Tendo girl, echoing the thoughts of so
many others.

(Was it just the motions of his arms? Or something more?)

(Where did that depression around his feet come from?)

Suddenly Kitaro rushed forward, clawed hand going straight for his
opponent's face. Ranma merely wove to the side. Kitaro pressed his
charge, changing the failed attack into an elbow strike.

Again Ranma evaded the attack, stepping close to Kitaro, whose other
arm shot upwards in a clawed uppercut, missed, and in a flash came
down elbow first. Kitaro stepped forward, the first arm lashing out
again. Ranma wove, moving into Kitaro's blind spot. A leg lashed out
in a high back kick which, having missed, rapidly came down. Kitaro
spun on that leg, executing a viscious reverse spin kick.

Which, incidently, struck air.

Kitaro turned to face Ranma, who still showed no interest, merely
gazing flatly at him. The older man felt his eyebrow twitch; the boy
was toying with him. He charged again.

This time Kitaro pressed his onslaught for two whole minutes,
employing very aggressive techniques. The crowd had long realized that
he was no slouch, not when they could hear how the air whistled as he
clawed for Ranma.

The pigtailed boy, on the other hand, hadn't executed as much as a
block. In fact it was painfully obvious he didn't think much of his
challenger as he ducked, bobbed and wove without much effort.

Akane was wringing her school bag in trepidation. (Something's wrong.)
Ranma always fought on the challenger's level. (Except with me. Jerk.)

Spinning quickly to compensate from a failed strike, Kitaro turned to
face Ranma. He was gasping for breath, and didn't look particularly
pleased.

"What the fuck?! Fight me! Fight me you worthless son of a bitch!"

Ranma's face darkened into a terrible scowl. Before the eye could
blink, he was less than an arm's length away from his foul-mouthed
challenger. Kitaro's jaw nearly fell off in disbelief at the speed,
when he caught himself and rained punches, claws, elbows and knees
onto his opponent.

It was clearly pointless though, as Ranma blocked each and every
strike. He blocked them deftly, his faceetched in a terrible scowl
that made Kitaro's heart skip a beat more than once.

The rain of blows continued for roughly five seconds -- suddenly
Kitaro found himself staggering backwards, arms thrown wide. Again
Ranma rushed him. This time, it was with such intensity that Kitaro
felt that time slowed down.

He could see with alarming clarity every detail on Ranma's face; how
the boy's eyes narrowed in anger, how his mouth curled in disgust.

Above all, Kitaro noticed how unstoppable Ranma looked.

Then, Ranma was in his face, their noses nearly touching. Years from
then, Senbuzaku Kitaro would remember the boy's voice. So calm, yet so
cold, so focused that despite being a slight whisper everyone heard
what Ranma said.

"You should've left my Momma out of this."

With that, Ranma pivoted on his right leg and sent a palm strike into
Kitaro's solar plexus _hard_. The challenger flew backwards like an
artillery shell, losing consciousness long before he smashed into the
wall on the far side of the park.

****

For a few long seconds, silence reigned. Some of the crowd looked in
the direction where the challenger had flown off to. The rest looked
at the uncharacteriscally furious Ranma. No one really knew what to
say.

Suddenly, someone sneezed and the spell broke. The silent crowd
instantly turned into a buzzing one.

"Damn, that was short."

"I'll say. One of the tamest fights I've seen for a bit."

"Man, not even _one_ chi blast. Bummer."

"So much for spilt blood and broken bones. Saotome must've been pissed
though. He usually plays around with 'em a bit more."

"Pay up, Jiro."

"Argh! He lost?"

"You bet against Ranma? Man, how about you just _give_ me your pocket
money next time?"

"Ranma-san looks better than ever!"

"You've said it-"

Tuning out the not so hushed whispers, Ranma turned and started to
walk away. Maybe he could find another place to rest at.

He didn't notice the single person walking a distance away behind him,
following him. Ranma was in some far away land and his expression said
that much.

The pigtailed boy was nearly out of the park when the person called
out. "Ranma?"

Ranma gave no sign of having heard it, continuing to walk casually,
hands in his pocket.

"Ranma!"

Still the young Saotome continued, not even flinching at the tone
used.

Then, in a soft, lilting voice more appropriately used to beckon
newborn babies, the person gently said, "Baka?"

Instantly Ranma stopped, and turned around to see Akane looking at him
with a slightly confused and hopeful look. "Yeah, Akane?"

Akane's confused look turned into one of mirth, and moments later she
was giggling so badly, that her body shook as she held her sides.

"You.." talking was hard when you were giggling.

"I'm what?" asked an understandably irritated Ranma.

"You... answered..." that was all Akane managed, and she giggled
uncontrollably again.

Ranma began to look quite cross and folded his arms across his chest,
regarding his fiancée. Fortunately, Akane sensed his irritation and
managed to control herself. Her mirthful look again became slightly
worried and hopeful.

"I..." she managed, obviously having a hard time.

Her fiancé was beginning to wonder what it was all about and if it was
good for his continued well-being. "Yeah?"

Barely whispering, Akane tried again. "I..."

It was taking a ridiculous amount of time, he thought. "Wh-"

"Want to go have some ice cream with me?" Akane blurted. Her cheeks
were a bit redder than usual, and she looked to one side, avoiding
Ranma's eyes.

"Huh?" said Ranma, _quite_ intelligently. He had lost the irritated
look, gaining a stupefied one.

Ranma's floundering look boosted Akane's confidence somewhat. "The
ice-cream shop is just around the corner. Want to have some?" she
asked, looking into his eyes.

"Um..." Ranma started to say something, and caught himself. A puzzled
look danced across his features for a few seconds. Again he started to
say something, when he saw something in Akane's eyes. Their gazes
locked, and he found himself quite speechless.

In fact, both Tendo and Saotome were at loss for words. Neither knew
how long they stood rooted at the park entrance, either.

"Woohoo!"

"Lookit the lovebirds!"

"Straight outta the movies!"

Fortunately -- or unfortunately, depending on your point of view --
the audience from the fight earlier was there to bring them back to
reality.

Snapped out of their trance, the two of them wordlessly reached an
agreement, and quickly shuffled out of the park with as much dignity
as they could gather.

Their beet red faces, however, completely ruined the effect.

**********

"You really like ice-cream, don't you Ranma?" asked Akane.

They had just left the ice-cream parlour, and were strolling down the
street. The crowd was of moderate size, mostly young people like
themselves out to enjoy the late Friday afternoon.

Her fiancé snorted. "They're okay, I guess," he replied nonchalantly.

"Just 'okay'?" she quizzed.

"Well... yeah. It's not like I'm crazy 'bout 'em or nothin'," came the
answer.

Akane glanced sideways at him. "I see," she said. "Is that why you
have ice-cream dripping from your hair?"

Ranma froze in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his head sideways to look
at his fiancée, a quizzical look on his face. Smiling warmly, she
returned his look, and nodded.

"Gaah!" he shouted, arms a frenzied blur as he patted away furiously
at his hair. Ranma wasn't too particular about his appearance, -- a
manly man's natural devastatingly good looks would always shine
through, afterall -- but looking like an idiot was anathema to him.
That was what people like Tsubasa, Kuno and Ryouga were for.

"Is it gone? Is it gone?" he asked Akane, in a nearly desperate tone.

He didn't get an answer though; Akane was too busy giggling at the
sight of him. Ranma felt his ire rise, only to deflate a moment later
as he took in the sight of his fiancée, looking so lively, so
carefree.

She looked so happy. With him. Maybe it was okay to let her in close,
just this once.

For the third time that day, Ranma started to say something, only to
lose the words on the tip of his tongue.

(Damn... I give up...) he thought, settling for a rueful shake of his
head, and continued to walk on.

It took a few moments for Akane to realize that she was giggling by
her lonesome, and she moved to catch up with Ranma, skipping as she
went. It had been too long since she enjoyed herself and she was
cherishing each moment.

She fell in step with Ranma, who was sulking. Her smile grew; there
was something about seeing a childish frown on a young man who could
wield the energies needed to level a mountain.

After a few more moments of silence and sulking, Akane glanced at
Ranma again. "Oh, stop being such a grouch," she admonished, still
smiling.

Ranma's only response was to stomp his feet as he plodded along,
sulking even more than before. Akane had to bite her tongue to keep
herself from laughing out loud; the sight of Ranma like that was too
much.

Finally regaining control of herself, Akane went back to his side. He
was still sulking. "Oh, c'mon Ranma." Seeing no response, Akane
stepped closer to the pigtailed youth and timing herself, used her hip
to gently nudge him.

Ranma nearly stumbled, but caught himself. He threw his fiancée an
irritated look, which she countered with a sunny smile. A slight
breeze blew her hair across her features, and Ranma crumbled. Sighing,
he gave her a small smile and continued to walk. He said nothing; even
Saotome Ranma could learn that it was futile to try to say something
to Akane that day.

The two continued to walk silently. Occasionally they would bump into
each other, but neither said a word. Ranma kept his peace; the
occasional contact felt like taking Akane's hand and leading her out
of Ryuugenzawa. That had been too long ago, he thought.

Akane had a most contented look.

They had just passed the cinema when Akane realized that Ranma had
fallen behind. She turned around, to see him staring into space. Akane
stepped up to him, frowning cutely.

"Ranma?"

Instead of replying, he continued to stand rooted, staring into the
distance.

Reaching out, she gave his sleeve a slight tug. "Ranma?" she tried
again.

The tug got his attention. He looked at her briefly and then back at
where he was staring.

Not knowing what to make of the situation, Akane stood next to Ranma
and looked in the same direction. "What are you looking at?"

"That guy," said Ranma, his voice low and controlled, "at the
cigarrette stand."

After a brief search, Akane found the vendor, and the man who was
currently its single customer. He was dressed in a smart black suit,
wearing designer shades, about thirty years old and looked very, very
normal.

"Yeah, I see him. What's wrong with him? He looks okay to me."

"He's- look!" the urgency in his voice made her focus on the man, who
was walking to a black Mercedes. Akane still couldn't find anything
amiss.

"Look at what? Ranma, you-"

"He," Ranma interjected, voice full of conviction and focus, "is
_strong_, Akane. Don't you see it?"

Bewildered, Akane looked again, nearly squinting her eyes trying to
find what Ranma found so fascinating. The man walked over to the
passenger side of the car, and got in.

"I don't-"

"I'm gonna lose him!"

"Huh?" Akane was starting to worry. Ranma had never acted like this
before.

"Here," said Ranma, pushing his school satchel into Akane's arms.
"Take this. I'll try to be back by dinner."

"What? Ranma- Ranma!" she all but shouted at her fiancé, who was
already running after the black vehicle. It was no use. Even if he had
heard her, Ranma made no sign of slowing down.

Akane stood rooted, watching Ranma disappear into the crowd. She felt
her eyes dew a little. It wasn't because their improptu date was no
more. It wasn't because she felt cheated that he ran off without
telling her what was going on.

It was because of the sinking feeling she felt inside, that something
bad was going to happen.

She sniffled once, clutching his school bag tightly.

"Come back."

**********

Saotome Ranma was in a quandary.

Actually, he was in a plaza that was facing a tall building, but he
was also in a quandary.

He had chased after the black Mercedes through the streets of Tokyo.
Luckily for him, his pursuit had taken place just at the start of rush
hour. The world-famous traffic jams of Tokyo had allowed him to follow
the car without having to resort to prolonged chi-enhanced measures.
He could have handled it, but it wouldn't have been convenient.

The chase had led him to the tall office building across the plaza.
After spending nearly an hour in the traffic jam, the car had stopped
outside the building. The man that had so intrigued Ranma stepped out
of the car, and into Michigawa Tower, its name emblazoned over the
entrance . The car drove away, but Ranma's attention was then focused
only on the sixty-odd story building.

That had been three hours ago.

It was already dark, and the evening crowd had thickened. Ranma was
painfully aware that most of the people walking the streets at the
moment was out to have dinner, as his stomach rumbled.

The youth steeled himself. There would be time for food later. He just
_had_ to find out who that guy was and what he was about.

Aside from Herb, Ranma had never seen anyone so strong in Tokyo.

The man was strong, no question about it. Probably as strong as Herb,
who was physically stonger than Saffron, although the Phoenix god's
imitation of a fusion reactor was so good that a fight against Herb
would most probably be level, if not one sided.

Ranma shifted to sit cross-legged on the stone bench, contemplating.

What was a man that strong doing in Tokyo? Ranma hadn't even needed to
engage his Kijin Shikaku to know that the guy was strong. The way the
man moved was enough. Even to most martially trained eye, the man had
a normal gait. The young Saotome was anything but normal; to his eyes
the man was a walking tsunami.

Unstoppable.

It would be hard to explain that to anyone, the youth realized. The
only way Ranma could think of how to describe the man's walk, was that
it was very much like his own.

Actually, it was a walk more advanced and accomplished than his, but
being Saotome Ranma, it was to be understood that it was only a matter
of time until he caught up.

(A month of training should do it. Nahh... make that two weeks.)

A passing spirit heard his thoughts and rolled its ethereal eyes
heavenwards. The spirit quickly shuffled away; the boy's confidence
was overwhelming.

Ignoring his rumbling stomach -- a truly great feat by male Saotome
standards -- Ranma continued his contemplation, keeping his eyes on
the building entrance.

What was the man doing in the building?

Who was he? A martial artist?

How did he get that strong?

What would a man that strong be doing in a business establishment as
grand as the Tower?

Was he a businessman? Or a hired arm?

The pigtailed youth was starting to get another headache.

He was about to shift his stand when a thought struck him: what if the
man had left the building by means of another exit?

All of a sudden, the boy was a nervously pacing one, mental gears
nearly audible as he thought of what he should do. He suddenly stopped
cold in his tracks, a grin blossoming. He had the perfect solution.

Kijin Shikaku. Demon God Eyesight.

Turning to face the building, the boy brought forth memories of how to
distinguish human chi from other energies. Proper mindset ready, he
focused his attention squarely on the Tower. He engaged the Kijin
Shikaku.

Ranma gasped, and immediately the Kijin Shikaku dissipated. He spent
the better part of five minutes catching his breath, trying calm
himself down.

Finally getting his breath back, Ranma turned to look at the top
floor. He had been expecting to see a single aura field five, maybe
ten times more powerful than that of a normal human.

He saw five fields. Three at tenfold. One at twenty. The last nearly
forty. All in the same room.

Ranma cursed under his breath. If before he had been in a quandary,
then he was at the moment at a definite mental road block.

"Hell! Now what do I do?"

**********

(I can't believe I'm doing this.)

Ranma stepped into Michigawa Tower, slipping through the sliding door
as an employee left the building.

(Pop's gonna kill me if he finds out about this.)

He was invisible. Courtesy of the Umi Sen Ken.

(Heh. Not that I'd let him, but damn he can be a pain in the ass when
he wants to be.)

Gingerly he walked past the security post in the lobby. His soft
slippers weren't making a sound, but he wasn't taking any chances.

(Then again, he's a pain in the ass all the time. Now what?)

He was standing in the elevator lobby. There were eight elevators in
two rows, a plaque above each indicating which floors it serviced.

(One to ten... eleven to twenty.. hmm.. forty-one to fifty...
fifty-one to fifty-seven... Supreme Levels? Huh?)

The last one was emblazoned above an elevator with an extra stylish
façade. The doors were inlaid with a golden peacock instead of the
silver flowers on the other doors, and was framed in intricately
carved teak.

(Top floors, I guess. Well, this is my ride. Now- damn!)

Unlike the other elevators, the Supreme Levels lift had more than just
a button. To one side of the teak frame was a glass panel framed in
chrome. Ranma watched enough spy movies to know that it was a
biometric sensor; not that Ranma knew the word biometry, but he knew
trying to use it would backfire.

(Shit! Now what?!)

He looked around, trying to find anything that would take him to the
top floors, or at least give him an idea how to reach them. He found
none.

(Well...)

Ranma walked over to the elevator for the fifty-seventh floor. He
pushed the button, and the doors opened. Muttering a silent prayer, he
stepped inside, and as the doors closed, hit the button marked '57'.

(Damn... the things I do to be the best...)

****

Slowly, the still invisible Ranma stepped out of the elevator. The
ride had been uneventful, but that didn't stop his heartbeat from
rising.

The lobby was a tastefully lit corridor, though each of its end was
dim. It was eleven o'clock afterall, and even the industrious Japanese
knew when to call it a day.

Picking a random direction, the youth headed for one end of the
corridor. It lead to a poshly decorated foyer, a reception counter
facing the entrance. The counter was empty, and the areas behind the
glass doors on both sides of the counter was dark.

(No one home, I guess.)

He made his way to one of the glass doors, and gave it a little push.
The door stayed shut.

(Damn. Hmm..?)

His eyes caught sight of a softly illuminated panel on one side of the
door. It was a keypad, its buttons luminous green. There was no other
visible means of unlocking the door.

(Shit. I have a feeling I'm gonna see a lot more of this.)

A quick check to the other door, and a dash down the corridor
confirmed his hunch. Keypads all around, all the doors requiring
keycodes or proximity cards to be opened. No alternative entrances
were visible.

(Great. Now what?)

The youth made his way back to the lobby, feeling quite irritated, as
well as a touch of disappointment. Glancing around, he saw a green and
white sign above a wooden door.

(The stairs!)

Gleefully, Ranma made his way to the door. Turning the handle, he
pulled the door open as quietly as he could. The act was pointless,
since the hinges were well oiled and silent, but it paid to be
cautious.

Ranma stepped through the door, and into the stairwell, softly
illuminated by a pale white bulb. Grinning, he made a move for the
stairs leading up, when he realized the sound of the door closing
could travel all the way down and into wary ears. Without looking, he
reached out to grab the handle.

Only to grab empty air.

(Huh?)

He immediately spun around and saw that his side of the door had no
handle. In a flash his arm shot out, his hand catching the door just
as it was about to hit the jamb.

Ranma stood there for a few seconds, panting. Having caught his
breath, he examined the door and its frame.

There was no knob, or handle, just another keypad to one side of the
door which swung outward from the staircase. One did not have to be a
genius to guess all the doors on the stairwell were similarly
protected. Had he not caught the door when he did, Ranma would have
been trapped in the stairwell, the only unlocked exit being the door
right behind the security desk in the lobby.

(What the hell is wrong with these people?! Don't they trust anyone
anymore?!)

Stepping back into the lobby, the boy closed the door gently behind
him. He sighed quietly.

(Now _what_?)

He was beginning to feel frustrated, a familiar feeling of late.

(Hmm... what to they do in the movies? Let's see... that's it! Air
vents!)

Quickly he turned his attention to the ceiling, and nearly yelped in
surprise. He was looking up, straight into a security camera. Forcing
himself to calm down, he quickly checked his Silent Thief technique.

It was still engaged. Ranma gave a heavy sigh of relief.

(This _definitely_ ain't the Tendo house.)

Scanning the ceiling, he quickly caught sight of a vent, part of the
air ventilation system. Ranma leapt straight up and grabbed the
stainless steel frame. He effortlessly clung to the frame; it was a
Saotome specialty.

(Please let this work. Please Kami-sama let this work.)

He inspected the grill, looking for screws. Finding none, he slipped
his fingers into the grill and gave a quick tug. It gave away.

(Yes! Something that works! Yes!)

Examining the grill, now hanging by its hinges, he found that the
grill was secured by clips.

(And away.. we go!)

Ranma quickly clambered up the air vent, carefully pulling the grill
behind him until he heard the telltale 'click.'

**********

"Urd! What are you doing?" hissed a very irritated goddess.

"I'm searching the database, what's it look like?" answered the
Goddess of the Past, equally irritated, if not more.

"You can't do that! You're suspended! In fact you shouldn't be here,
you nitwit!" Skuld gestured at the console of the Goddess Relief
Office.

Urd ignored her sister, and tapped away furiously at the console. A
few moments passed, and she threw up her arms in frustration.

"I can't get in!"

"Well duh! You're suspended. Of course you can't get in," said Skuld,
smirking. "Or have you forgotten the basic rules, hmm? Old age
catching up with you, Urd?"

The elder goddess gave no sign noticing her sister's taunt, and looked
deep in thought. A thought struck her, and she snapped her attention
back to Skuld.

"Your licence is active."

"Well _I_ wasn't the goddess who exceeded her Profanity Quota by a
factor of-"

"Help me."

Silence.

"What?" Skuld nearly screeched. Never in a hundred years did she
expect to hear Urd say what she had just said, in the way she just
did. It sounded like she was pleading. To Skuld.

"I need to find this mortal. Now. I can't access the system, you can."

"Uh-uh." Skuld backed away from Urd, shaking her head. "No way. I'm
not risking my licence. Uh-uh."

"Skuld, I need to find him."

The younger goddess was at a loss. Her sister had never been like
this.

"I said no. I could get in seri-"

"Please, Skuld," said Urd. She had dropped onto one knee and held her
sister's shoulders. "I _need_ to find him. Please."

Skuld was speechless. She couldn't think of anything to say. It was
too weird. She could only nod once, the back of her mind yelling that
it was a big mistake.

**********

(Finally!)

After fifteen minutes of feeling his way through the shaft, taking
random lefts, rights, a single up, more lefts, more rights, Ranma
finally came to a grill that did not drop down into an elevator lobby.
Peering past the grill, he saw no obstacles below, and carefully
popped the grill open. He dropped through the opening, grabbing the
frame as he came out, and swung himself up again, hugging the ceiling
like an oversized spider.

Gently he closed the grill. From his vantage point, he looked about
underneath. He was in a darkened corridor, with no one to be seen in
any direction. Still, he decided to keep the Silent Thief engaged.

Satisfied with the situation, Ranma loosened his grip on the vent
frame, and landed quietly on his feet.

(Now to find that guy... lessee...)

A brief flash of Kijin Shikaku yielded nothing. A sliver of light
strayed into the hallway from under a door somewhere in the distance,
and that ridiculously small amount of light was enough to illuminate
the whole place for him.

There was no sign of his quarries, however.

(Huh?)

Again, he engaged the technique and slowly turned around, scanning the
entire level for the powerful auras. Nothing.

(Where'd they go?)

Ranma faced the end of the darkened corridor, and channeled more chi
into his cornea than before. Still, nothing. He was about to turn
around and face the other end of the corridor when something tugged at
his heightened senses.

(What...)

He peered into the corridor. There was nothing to be seen, save for a
vase on a side table of dark wood with a rectangular top.

(There's nothin' there... why do I get the feeling there is?)

Squinting his eyes, he still found nothing. His Kijin Shikaku was
telling him otherwise.

(What the- wait...)

He calmed himself, and gathered his breath, focusing more chi than he
had ever used for the Kijin Shikaku, or even the Mouko Takabisha. It
took Ranma about a full second to channel the gathered chi into a
super strong Kijin Shikaku.

(Shit!)

Now in plain sight, was a web of thin red lights. There were so many,
each crossing so many others that the end result looked like a
spider's web.

(Ohh.. shit!)

At first, Ranma looked at the strands in the distance. Realizing that
some were pointing in his direction, he slowly lowered his eyes,
following the strands.

They passed through his chest. His abdomen. His left knee. His right
ankle.

(Oh fuck.)

Ranma did the only thing he could think of. He _froze_.

There had been many, many times in his lifetime, that Ranma had cursed
his idiotic father, for whatever reason. This was not one of those
moments.

The Umi Sen Ken was the only thing that kept his body from breaking
the laser strands.

(Keep calm Ranma. Keep calm. Remember the movies? The lights don't
break, your ass is safe. Turn around... see? Them lights so straight,
you're safe.)

(That's it... you're one cool dude Ranma. No need to worry 'bout the
light thru yer chest, leg... no need to worry bout that web in f-)

(...)

(...web...)

The pigtailed martial artist stared at the web of lasers. The web
looked as if woven. He had seen a web of light before. But at the
moment he didn't think of it as a web.

He thought of it as a mat.

A mat of soft blue light.

(Kami-sama...)

He disengaged the Kijin Shikaku, and gathered his chi again. His face
was a mask of stony determination.

Ranma straightened both his arms out. First he channeled intensely
focused chi into his right arm. Feeling his appendage awash with
power, he channeled chi into his left arm.

The moment of truth.

Each arm served as a conductor for a flow of chi so intense, that each
arm had a polarized chi field. Countless individual chi strands flowed
in a single direction, each never crossing another. So intense was
this field, that the chi field was firmly oriented in whatever
direction the arm was pointed.

The boy crossed his arms, the right a few inches above the left.

Ranma projected the chi from the arms and into the space between them.

Instant soft blue square mat.

Immediately Ranma forced his will into the mat. The mat was extremely
responsive to his will, and in a split second Ranma wove the mat into
the Second Construct.

The mat disappeared.

He inhaled sharply.

(No... it's still there... I can feel it.)

Remembering what the Second Construct did, Ranma slowly made his way
towards the vase and the side table, Silent Thief still engaged.

(Calm down boy... there's nothing to be worried about...)

Ranma inched towards the table, heart pounding, not really knowing
what to expect. He pressed forward, slowly, when something happened.

The corner of the table disappeared, as if suddenly chipped away with
an ultra sharp scalpel. Ranma could see the cross section, though it
was blurred for some reason.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Ranma stepped forward again. More of
the table disappeared, along with one of it's legs. The table remained
standing.

Again he stepped forward, and this time half the vase disappeared,
with it half the table. He could see straight into the vase.

(What the...)

Ranma was about to step forward again, when a hunch made him look
about a hundred and twenty degrees to the left.

It was all that Ranma could to stop himself from shaking. There, to
his left, was half a table, with half a vase, standing upright, just
like the half table and half vase on his right.

Gulping audibly, Ranma took a small step to the right. Immediately
what remained of the vase disappeared, along with a portion of the
table. Glancing to the left, Ranma saw that the vase was now complete,
and what was missing of the table on his right, was now added to the
portion on his left.

(Kami-sama...)

He slowly moved to his left, to see a portion of the vase and table
disappear, only to reappear on his right. He repeated the experiment a
few times.

The conclusion: the second chi construct resulted in a field whose
spherical boundary could, upon contact, translate matter to another
point on the boundary, where the entry and exit points form a chord
within the sphere, while maintaining structural and material
integrity.

Of course, Ranma's conclusion was slightly simpler.

(Shit! I can make the damn table pass me! Shit! It disappears there!
It comes back on the other side! The damn table's in two places at
once! Half is there! The other half is there! But it's still in one
piece! I can control how much goes there, or there.... shit! SHIT!)

Saotome Ranma, eloquene defined.

Ranma was about to continue his internal ranting when a thought struck
him. He disengaged the Second Construct, gathered and channeled his
chi into his arms. He crossed his arms, and projected his chi. Again
the blue mat appeared, hovering between his arms.

Instead of folding it into the Second Construct, Ranma willed it to
move. Just like the first time, the mat instantly complied, and it
shot to a point three feet away from Ranma. It hovered.

He willed the mat into the Second Construct. It disappeared.

The young Saotome inhaled deeply. He knew the construct was there,
even if he couldn't see it.

Tentatively, he reached out. He was expecting to feel a tingling
sensation, or something, but nothing came. He did however, see his
fingers disappear from sight. Then his hand, up to his wrist.

Ranma looked up, and saw his hand hanging above the edge of the table.

(Damn...)

He took a step forward, and sent more of his arm into the barrier, to
see it disappear up to his elbow, and appear above the table.
Tentatively, he grabbed the vase, lifted it and withdrew his arm. He
stepped back, and pulled his arm clear of the boundary.

Correction. He pulled back his arm and the vase from the boundary.

(Oh kami...)

His arms were shaking. Ranma couldn't help it. He had NEVER been this
excited in his life.

Arms still shaking, Ranma gently straightened his arm again, watched
it disappear with the vase. As expected both reappeared above the
table, and he put the vase down very carefully. He withdrew his arm,
and disengaged the Second Construct, immediately feeling slightly
drained.

Ranma was beyond happy. He was beyond jubilant. He-

"YES!!!"

- was still a baka.

****

"Sir!"

"Yes, corporal?"

"Optical sensors tripped. Phonic sensors tripped. Supreme Level One.
Sector zero-eight. Sector is supposed to be empty."

"Glitch?"

"Phonic sensors recorded a hundred-twenty decible peak."

"Scramble all teams. Where are our distinguished executives?"

"The Executive Elevator is on its way down. I'm guessing they're about
to leave."

"Page the elevator. They'll want to know."

****

(Oh shit.)

Ranma was clamping his mouth with both his hands.

(Did anyone hear that?)

He remained very still. Even with the Silent Thief still active, he
wasn't taking any chances.

More chances, that was.

(Hmm... I could've sworn I put that vase down exactly where I picked
it up... hmm...)

Ranma was very sure he put the vase down in its exact spot. He engaged
his Kijin Shikaku, just to be safe.

(Crap...)

A single red strand was broken. The lip of the vase was a centimeter
too far to the left.

(Shit! Oh shit! What do I do? What do I do?)

He was about to pace, when he looked down to the floor and engaged his
Kijin Shikaku.

(Oh bloody shit!)

Thirty single-fold chi fields were making their way up. They were in
the elevators. They were in the stairwells. That wasn't the bad news
though.

The bad news were the five nova fields. Two ascending very fast. Three
slower.

(Those five! Oh damn! The stairs! Oh shit! The lift! Oh fuck!)

Ranma was starting to get extremely nervous. He could evade the normal
people easily. The five, however...

Who knew how sensitive they were to ki? For all he knew they could
sense the Silent Thief if they were close enough.

(Damn! Gotta get outta here!)

He ran towards one end of corridor, towards the elevator lobby. That
was the only way out.

His way was blocked by a doule glass door. He pushed. It didn't move.
He pulled. It still didn't move.

Ranma was about to kick down the glass doors when his eyes caught
sight of a green light by door. Looking closely, he saw it was the LED
indicator of a switch. With nothing else to go by, he pushed the
switch.

The doors opened.

He ran past the doors, and into the elevator lobby.

(Now what? Now what? Now- Stairsstairsstairs...)

He quickly pushed the door to the stairwell open, and took the stairs
one flight at a time upwards. Going downwards wasn't an option.

(Smart one Saotome. Be curious. Yeah. Be just like Nabiki. Be smart,
be strong. Good one Saotome. Be Proud. Yeah.)

Within five seconds he made it to the end of the stairs, at the final
door at the top. Which, incidentally, did not have a handle or a knob,
just a little panel to one side.

(SHIT!)

He searched for a switch. None. That left only one option.

(Gonna hafta kick it down. Hope they don't mind or 'nuth- waiiit a
minute!)

Ranma stood back from the door, focused his chi into his arms, created
the blue mat, sent it into the door, and engaged the Second Construct.

(Kami-sama let this work, please!)

The young Saotome dove head first into the unseen barrier.

The immediate change of scenery from wooden door to starry night was
extremely disorienting. Ranma did his best to stay standing.

(I... I did it!)

He turned around to face the door.

(I went right through!)

The Second Construct was there, he could feel it. Ranma had to resist
the temptation of jumping through the field again just for the heck of
it.

(Time for that later moron!)

Ranma turned his back to the door, and disengaged the Second Construct
as he started to walk away. It was with no small surprise that Ranma
found himself on his knees, panting.

(Oh man! That move really sucks the life outta ya! No wonder I nearly
died that day!)

He forced himself to his feet; it wasn't a good idea to stick around.
Running to the ledge of the roof, he saw that he was a good twenty
stories above the tallest adjacent building.

(Damn!)

Quikly he made for the opposite ledge and peered over. It was at least
thirty stories down.

(All right, I'm screwed.)

Suddenly, his hackles rose.

(Oh shit. Something's coming.)

His heartrate doubled.

(Oh I am SO screwed!)

Looking around, he saw for the first time that it wasn't a simple roof
he was on. The roof had a helipad.

The scaffolds of a helipad made for a lot of space to hide in.

(Be cool Saotome. You've got nothin' to be afraid of. No one can hide
fr-)

"Ranma?"

****

Chaos.

Chaos slithered around its Avatar. Its best ever.

Soon its avatar would turn the gods themselves topsy turvy.

Chaos would have laughed out loud, if it could.

The stops had been pulled. Mortals and non-mortals alike would be
effected. In fact, its Avatar would feel the effect very, very soon.

Its Avatar was going to feel something he had never felt before.

Lust.

****

A bad shiver ran down his spine. That voice behind him.

That feminine, silky voice.

"Ranma? Where are you?"

Slowly, Ranma turned around, eyes closed.

"Dam- uh... darn it! Where is he?" said the voice, hushed. "I saw
Skuld pull up those files myself."

Ranma opened his eyes.

It was the woman from the temple, standing not five meters away. He
nearly died soon after they had first met; he had all but forgotten
about her. Even the intensely rapturous moment he laid eyes on her a
month ago was nearly lost to him.

That intense moment was coming back -- with a vengeance.

His knees shook. He had trouble breathing. He lost his focus, and the
Silent Thief dissipated.

The woman's eyes widened, no doubt surprised to see him materialize
out of thin air.

Ranma felt himself tingling all over. He _knew_ the woman felt the
same.

A breeze blew, carrying with it the scent of the woman, which Ranma
caught. The smell made the tingling worse; in fact he was starting to
feel very, very warm, but he needed more. There was only one other
source of warmth on the rooftop.

That very source of warmth started to walk towards him, hips swaying
indulgently, though she was obviously restraining herself from running
towards him. Her arms shook visibly. He knew it wasn't because of the
wind.

He knew because his arms shook as well. His arms wanted to enfold her,
his hands wanted to touch her.

Ranma had no idea what was happening to him, why he was acting this
way over a stranger. He did know, however, that he wanted to be close
to her, she to him.

Finally, they stood within an arm's length. He looked into her eyes.

Urd couldn't understand it. She had teleported to his location so that
she could talk to him, to find out why she felt the way she did, to
get answers. Instead, she was losing herself to him, and it felt so
right. It felt so right to not be herself, so right not to resist in
the least. She lost herself in his gaze.

"Why," he said, "are you here?"

She took in his words, and his voice, and shuddered. He had no doubt
it was a ripple of ecstacy. "I came looking for you," she replied, in
a shaky voice, seductive even in nervousness.

It was his turn to shudder, electricity running up and down his spine.
It made him tingle. It made him warm. However, the warmth wasn't
enough; he had to have more. The back of his mind was screaming that
it was wrong, that this wasn't what he would do. The mental screams
were silenced, however, by his desire for her. In fact, his desire
rose when he saw the look in her eyes. It told him she _needed_ him
too.

"You've found me," he said breathlessly. "What will you do with me?"

She gasped inwardly. What did she want with him? Urd searched herself,
and found the answer.

"Everything," she said softly, nervously. "I want to do everything
with you."

He inhaled sharply; it was the perfect answer. He stepped closer,
reaching out to touch her delicate face.

She closed her eyes, nearly shaking in anticipation. She could sense
his skin, inching towards her cheek.

He himself was shaking badly. The way the moonlight shone off her
platinum hair was enough to make him lose control.

His fingers touched her cheek, and they were in their own private
world. Their knees buckled, and they fell into each other's arms.

Warm. Oh so warm. So sensuously, addictively warm. Each had to have
more, and their hands moved.

A world of their own indeed.

A world that was shattered at the sound of a door smashing open, of
running feet.

"Halt!!"

Of shouting voices.

Of an explosion that wrapped the world in absolute white.

"Argghhhhhhh!!"

And of a shout full of pain that rang throughout the night.

==========

To be continued....

Foot Notes:

Finally! Finished it!

Sorry it took so long, but things got hairy on my end. Anyway, I hoped
you guys liked it. Personally, I didn't think this chapter was all
that good, but hey, I'm new at this. I'll try to do better next time,
I promise.

Some of you might notice that parts of this chapter bear resemblence
to Carrot's "Gaijin #19". To be specific, the part with sneaking into
buildings via air ducts. Just to be clear, I didn't copy it from him.
I finished this fic about a month before he released that chapter. I
posted the draft on a forum (no, NOT the Delphi forum), and members
can attest to that. It took a while for me to get the final version
out.

And NO, I am not saying that he ripped my idea. We both ripped someone
else's idea (as did John Woo), and wrote our stories at roughly the
same time. So spare me the plagiarism speech or I shall get quite
cross.

This chapter might have birthed some unanswered questions, especially
regarding Ranma's new moves. I'll get around to answering them in
later chapters.

A HUGE thanks to my pre-readers, namely Rezantis, Mads, Magus, Ranma
Saotome, Corwin, KPJAM, Brian Randall, Latin_D, dracos, Akraen,
Gabriel Blessing, Kinematics, Thermopyle and all those who bothered to
read and c&c the draft. Apologies to those I've left out; it seems
i've botched up the list of names. Really sorry about that. To you
guys, thanks for the suggestions. I've tried my best to accomodate all
of them, but unfortunately, some of them would take major rewrites of
the fic. I would've done it, but I fear for my sanity. I'm barely
clinging to sanity as it is ^^;;

Also a heartfelt thank you to all of you who took the time to write in
and give me encouragement. Cheers to Moon Klutz for sending me a nice
mail that got me off my butt to start this chapter. 2 Cheers to
Dragonbard
for them mails!

I would like to apologize for any and all grammar/spelling boo-boos.
English isn't my first language, and I'm not any good in my first
language either.

If you think this is beginning to sound like a rejected Oscar's
acceptance speech, let me explain:

1. I'm really sorry that this chapter is late.
2. I'm really grateful for the support and help I've received.
3. I wanted to make the fic seem longer than it really is, for all
those people keeping an eye on the page countdown. Did you like the
ending? ^_^
4. Yes, I'm feeling plenty pleased with myself, why do you ask?

*grins*

Any question, comment, input, tell me you hate/like the story/me,
donations, etc to "bluefurball<at>yahoo.com". Flames will be accepted,
but won't do you any good as I won't care. If you do write in, please
do me a favour and tell me where you're from. E.g. "Hoboken, NJ, USA"
Just wanna know which part of the world has read my story, ya know.

The author claims no ownership over characters and scenes from Ranma ½
and Ah! Megami Sama. This work of fiction is for recreational
purposes, with no commercial intent (or value). Bottom line? Don't sue
me! ^^;

Till the next chapter!

God knows when that will be...

-bluefurball-