Winter struck heavily this far north in Hokkaido, especially where the House was halfway up Yamakaro Mountain. And this winter was no exception - at its height snow was a common occurrence - layering the landscape with a blanket of glistening white. Shinkasa Kagora was making his way to the food hall, clad in a soft woolen overrobe to check on the white bandanna trainees, when a quiet cough caused him to turn. "Spymaster Misho, is there something I can do for you?"

The lady merely handed him a typed fax sheet. "I received this a few minutes ago from our contact post down south in Kyoto. They received another request for information by the Kuonji Clan, along with a healthy dose of funds."

Silently Kagora read the copy of Kuonji Harakuna's polite request for the services of the Shinkasa to locate one Saotome Genma and his son, Ranma. He raised eyebrows at the promised reward.

"As you can see it is largely the money from the Kuonjis which keep our holdings in Kyoto afloat. Added to that is the fact that the Kuonji clan is very influential in that area - they head a league of okonomiyaki restaurants as well as shepherding much of the business there. Displeasing Harakuna can be….inconvenient."

The ninja master summarised, "In other words you want to offer him something to keep them occupied, so as to keep everybody happy, and the money flowing in?"

Misho smiled thinly, "That's about right."

"Well, as far as I know Saotome Genma is currently unoccupied - though knowledge of that sort is more your department." Kagora's enigmatic glint revealed what he was thinking.

As if on cue, the spymaster withdrew another sheet.

Report No. FHL60755

"Our information network has really modernised to the computer times under your supervision", Kagora murmured, obviously impressed, "although I am leery of all our Clan members being reduced to mere letters and numbers."

Grinning, Misho responded, "It helps us keep track of everybody, Master Ess Kay Gee dot Enn Emm dot oh oh wun." She smirked at his exasperated glare.

"That's Master Kagora, and I'll thank you to keep your computer jargon to yourself." Returning from his brief moment of amusement, he added, "If you were so prepared to direct the Kuonjis to our old friend Genma, then why consult myself first?" Technically, the spymaster was of equal rank to the old ninja master and thus did not require his permission to work within her own department.

"Well, presumably depending on how Harakuna chooses to…'deal' with his problem - it might be passed on to him that Genma's son just happens to live with a certain Shinkasa Clan. Since Ranma is your charge I considered it prudent to warn you of the possible complications."

Kagora waved away her unvoiced concerns. "Send the appropriate message to Kuonji Harakuna. If he finds out about us and Ranma then he finds out. We'll deal with the implications as they arrive."

"As you wish, but be it on your head if anything goes wrong." Misho departed without awaiting a response.

The Shinkasa master was left grimly considering the possible outcomes of Saotome Genma's re-acquaintance with old enemies. He noted that whatever they were, he wouldn't be burdened by an ounce of regret. Father was right, age does salt you of sympathy. And briefly this old man wondered whether ruthlessness was such a necessary attribute.

************

************

"Alright Ranma, let's do this again." Lano crouched defensively before his opponent. Ranma's only response was to tighten the grip on his wooden bokkens. For long moments the two simply stood unmoving - each awaiting patiently for the other to make the first move.

Meyah, their current supervisor looked on bemusedly as the two settled into a somewhat fruitless staring match - years of training together unfortunately had resulted in their styles coalescing with each other - and both were of the opinion that it was far more advantageous to let the enemy strike first in a sparring match.

Finally, Lano gave in and tested his opponent's defence with a light fore swing using his chosen weapon, the bo-staff. Predictably the staff tip reached its designated target an instant too late, and Ranma was in addition returning a swift double bladed slash, straight from his mother's own style. Like his sensei, the pigtailed ninja had eagerly adopted the employment of dual katanas for battle - beginning training in the specialised art two years after having taken to weapons (of course that was perfectly fine with mother).

The observing master took the moment to reflect upon her battling son. Ranma had grown much in the past years - good food and constant exercise having developed him into fine handsome man. As always he still sported that pigtail - now almost a foot in length, along with the jet silken Chinese shirt and kung fu pants. Indeed, to his mother's eyes the only effect of time was that everything had increased proportionally in size. Analysing his fighting style had proved no small headache for his tutors - it formed a very fine integration of Kagora's short range grappling, an adoption of Meyah's swordsmanship and shiatsu, even some of Lano's regional tae kwon do, and of course - Anything Goes.

Returning to the duel before her, Meyah winced as Ranma's five point spin kick managed to connect with Lano's lower jaw. That would certainly leave a bruise. Holding his mouth tenderly the Korean angrily protested, "HEY! That's my move!"

Mildly amused, the alleged plagariser commented, "And where is it written that 'Lano's special kicks' are patented unto himself?"

Playfully infuriated the teenager flipped himself to upright position, resisting the temptation to respond with one of Ranma's more personal Anything Goes flying combinations by way of retaliation - it was too predictable to rise to the barb. Instead using his staff for a prop, the Korean launched a rapid fire series of twisting foot punches, hoping to dislodge the whirling bokkens.

Ranma knew better than to try to break through Lano's fancy footwork - a single kick could temporarily disable a limb. Instead, he chose to retreat in a reverse back leap, keeping swords directed to counter the expected offensive. A two fingered jab from the hilt, three kicks, a ground slide dragon sword strike and the pigtailed ninja was again on the upper hand. Lano cautiously receded, bo-staff rapidly stabbing to keep his partner fighting from a distance.

And from without, Meyah continued to observe impassionately. "Lano reverse your hold, you'll have a better grip…..and Ranma stop swatting - your katana is an extension of your arm - not a baseball bat." Silently she noticed that another master had joined her in the spectacle.

With a tinge of gruffness Kinaro mentioned, "Every time I show my student a new combination to employ in the next duel - I find out that you and your father have taught your own protégé a counter to that move plus another three forms. The repetition is getting damned annoying I tell you."

The swordmaster smiled at the man's mock frustration. "It's alright - young Lano doesn't take the defeats personally - he accepts that Ranma is his better, and appreciates the challenge."

"You'd better watch out swordmaster, or your son might get cocky with all those victories."

"At least once a day, either Master Kagora or myself have a sparring match with Ranma to remind him of where his skills lie in the grander scheme of things." Absently she rubbed at a fading bruise which formed a narrow discolouration along her left waist. "Although it gets harder these days to beat him without reverting to special techniques."

As if in agreement Kinaro pointed to a reddening dent on his own left temple - courtesy of a stray punch from a bo-staff. "Ahhh, the pain we masters must endure for the sake of Ninjitsu."

Wryly, she commented, "Your bemoaning fools nobody - least of all Lano. He knows you take pride in every strike that breaks through your defence."

"Aie that is so, but that doesn't make the pain any more bearable."

Meyah had to laugh at that. Silently they continued to study the vigorous battle playing out in the flat yard. In accordance with their respective master's style regimens, the physique of each trainee had developed in their own course through natural growth into adult bodies. Unlike the conventional build of most Shinkasa ninjas, Kinaro's form tended toward the compact and stocky - his torso graced with a powerful barrel chest and huge shoulder muscles which were a credit to his being the uncontestedly strongest member of the house. Decades of constant exercise with the entire range of weapons available to the Clan - including those that in reality had little practical application to the modern scenario (some were far too obvious to be toting around) had been the founder of such power.

As well, their effect had been manifested somewhat in Kinaro's kohai. Lano's own shoulders had broadened considerably with growth - transforming him from the rangy, skinny young boy into a heavier set teenager. Years of consistent training against a speed fighter such as Ranma had offset the body building development somewhat - so the Korean maintained a credible level of swiftness. Indeed that was perhaps the greatest materialisation of his sparring matches with the Anything Goes Practitioner - a manifold increase of velocity and dexterity which were lacking in his otherwise untempered natural style.

Similarly, the pigtailed ninja had attained a complex mix of styles which shaped his body - although he tended towards the more slender - a compromise between Meyah's dancer's litheness, Kagora's aestheticism, and the speed and endurance maneuvers of Anything Goes. Exchange of skill forms with Lano had improved certain aspects of his personal style - most notably the unarmed kicks and flying kicks which had been adopted from the Korean regional Tae Kwon Do. Surprisingly perhaps, his friend had provided a great boost in the more basic of principles - showing how Ranma could improve the hitting power of individual strikes, especially the usage of the palm strike.

Such valuable exchanges of ideas were greatly appreciated by both the dedicated combat artists.

Kinaro sighed wearily as a series of painfully heavy slaps generated by high speed wood striking flesh pronounced the conclusion of the duel. Lano groggily picked himself from the ground. "I think that makes victory number one thousand and….." he paused whilst consulting a very well-worn notepad, "…forty six. I now only have……let's see…… seven hundred and fifty-nine…no make that fifty-eight wins to equal your score." Smiling brightly he added, "I'll get there eventually." So saying he adjusted his grey bandanna - earned soon after Ranma's arrival.

His friend and mild rival allowed a slight uptilt to his lips - Lano had taken to tallying their battles sometime around the age of nine or so - and despite the ever increasing numbers had continued to maintain that notepad almost doggedly. Bowing to acknowledge the ending of the duel, the pigtailed boy mentioned, "You were fighting well there Lano, that overhead jab really rocked me off my feet there."

"Yeah, I thought I had you there - but it seems the resident God of Shinkasa Ninjitsu lives to hold his title for another day."

"Shaddup Lano."

The Korean grinned - some things never changed.

Meyah chose that moment to intercede. "Very good work Ranma, but you still need to improve your follow through on those cross strikes. However we will practice that another time - Master Kagora will be taking your next lesson."

The boy bowed to his mother, "Hai sensei." With a quick farewell glance to his friend, Ranma sped off in the straight line direction to the dojo - leaping obstacles at will.

The swordmaster smiled as she watched his retreating figure clear the two-storey Shinto temple in a breathless leap. The resident priests didn't even flinch - so used were they to the boy's antics. Master Kagora had told her this morning that today he would begin teaching……..

*********

"Chi", the ninja master stated simply. "What do you know of ki and chi?"

The boy's forehead furrowed in recollection. "Ki is the manifestation of the energy of nature, chi is the energy from within - generated by your own life force, it is the basis of both psycho and kinetic energy as well as heat and light. External conduction forms a highly plasmonic……." Further reiteration was cut off by his sensei's upraised palm.

Kagora simply queried, "Loremaster Rishoto?"

The boy nodded mutely.

Making a mental note to remind the wizened bookworm to tone down his vocabulary (even though that would likely happen a day after he abandoned the library - ie. never) the ninja master continued, "Well what you have learned in theory will hopefully now be put into practice."

Ranma's eyes gleamed excitedly - his only outward sign of eagerness. Ever since his mother had demonstrated some of her simpler chi healing skills, he had developed a keen interest in the manipulation of raw energy - a curiosity which had been somewhat satisfied by her agreement to teach the boy some of her more basic healer's skills during their spare time. However there was a definite differentiation between employing chi to cure headaches, and wielding energised attacks in combat. Up till now Kagora had refused his student's requests to reveal the art of these techniques - with a whole array of reasoning behind the decision. Amongst the most emphatic of these included the fact that the Shinkasa in reality knew of only a minute variety of chi techniques which actually suited their needs - chi blasts, energy flames, barriers and the like tended to generate plenty of unwanted noise and flashing lights - more the province of martial artists. Most proper ninjas were thus expected to fight with skill of hand alone - a combat style which was infinitely easier to perform in silence.

Added to this argument was Kagora's subtle reminder that his heir was already a master of one very powerful chi technique (although it was particularly difficult to actually practice forms with it - given that usage was definitely inappropriate during a sparring match), and the kohai should be satisfied. Ranma being Ranma, with his insatiable thirst for the art had not really heeded the sage advice of his master.

Though it currently seemed that advice or otherwise, Ranma's curiosity was to be satisfied somewhat in the near future. Kagora opened the teaching with his characteristic brief list of warnings.

"Now Ranma, before we begin you must be enlightened in certain facts about chi and ki manipulation. For the most you should find that they are not worth the draining effect on your endurance to be employed regularly during combat. Most chi attacks are usually crude at best, causing widespread collateral damage that is ill befitting for a ninja's style. I do not want to find that if and when you master what I teach you, chi becomes a convenient means of avoiding hand to hand combat altogether - such a mentality will only leave you physically exhausted from energy expenditure and none the better in a battle. Chi is to be taken as simply another form to be used when proper in a fight, no more. Am I clear on this?" The ninja master did not wait for a response as he continued.

"With regard to ki techniques - I will certainly not be the one to be teaching you any of those myself. If chi is considered simply noisy, ki is the proverbial thunderclap in the deserted field. If you were to employ one, everybody - martial artist, ninjas, and non-combatants alike would know about it, thus defeating the purpose."

Seeing his kohai's rather disappointed frown, Kagora added enigmatically , "There's no need for the desolation. I will be teaching you at least one of the more useful techniques for the ninja. But that is presumably a long time from now - at present you will need the first few weeks simply to control the energy."

"Hai sensei," was the standard issue response.

Kagora nodded. "Assume lotus position." The boy immediately deposited himself on the nearest tatami mat and folded calves above opposing thighs. "Clear your mind, and imagine the state of awareness you bear before taking a giant leap, or a slash with the catfist." Ranma's brow crinkled reflexively as he attempted to focus.

The master closed his eyes, duplicating his student's position. Reaching out with his own mind, Kagora attempted to track the path of the pigtailed trainee's as of yet wildly erratic chi flows. Sensing a lack of progress, he murmured, "No Ranma imagine your state of mind just before you take that leap onto a rooftop, the moment when the mental decision to leap is translated into action. Take that mentality, focus the energy - there need not be a target - just a simple focus."

The boy's eyes narrowed even further, lines of sweat beading along the jawline. He could sense that moment - the brief euphoria as the seemingly endless supply of power was fueled to his legs, accelerating their movements beyond normal human capabilities. That was what chi was - the raw…..stuff….. for want of a better terminology, which allowed you to think, to command your body, to move your body. It was the energy of life, and within the furiously concentrating ninja, the energy continued frustratingly to move in pointless circles - achieving nothing.

Seconds turned to minutes, and still…..nothing. Kagora could sense the dogged stubbornness which drove his kohai onwards, and after fifteen minutes called off the ritual. Abruptly breaking away the train of intense thought, Ranma grumbled quietly, frustration plain in his voice.

"You needn't worry Ranma, this is but one of many procedures we will go through to establish the connection to your energy well. I would have been very shocked indeed if you had managed to achieve the link on the first attempt."

"Hai sensei, I am trying my best - but something blocks me."

Kagora eyes glinted sympathetically. "You will find in time that the self imposed barriers will weaken and dissipate eventually."

Eventually being the operative word here, the boy thought to himself.

"Now on to the next procedure…" here his sensei reached into a voluminous sleeve and withdrew a miniature gong - about the size of a saucer. Ranma had realised after a few weeks that Master Kagora could seemingly take anything out of those mystery sleeves, not just his beloved sai. The acceptance that this wasn't just a 'trick', and furthermore that the secret to its defiance of physical laws would remain just that (a secret) until the master deemed fit had taken several months longer to swallow.

However returning to the present, Ranma watched curiously as the ninja master lightly tapped the gong with his index finger, producing a hazily shimmering ring. "Listen carefully to the sound," the old fighter whispered, "focus on it, and find that infinitesimally small instant when sound ends and silence reigns. Live within that instant."

Ranma did so, straining with his hyper-sensitive hearing to find that supposed point in time. This method appealed to him much more comfortably - that the Catfist master could employ the delicate senses which were his heritage. But despite this, he apparently missed that point.

"Try again." The gong was struck again. Trying to immerse himself in the metallic vibration, Ranma fervently wished he could slow time - before realisation dawned that no matter how slow time was, the instant that he searched for would always remain thus - a mere instant.

"Again." And again the gong rang for the third time that morning.

"Have patience Ranma, if you would stop fretting over your inability to find that point, you might actually find it, not so?"

He tapped the metal disc.

The boy sighed. This looked to be a loooong morning.

**********

In a vaguely similar dojo, another boy was receiving instructions from his own sensei and father.

"I will leave it to you Ukyou to choose how to deal with the Saotomes - either fulfill the oath by marrying Saotome Ranma, or redeem our honour in blood." Looking closely at his child's now permanent style of dress - and more particularly at the gender which it conveyed, he was fairly convinced of the option which would be ultimately taken. Ukyou had taken a preference to the drab and baggy - currently sporting faded blue canvas trousers tied off at the waist and ankles by cord, and matched by a rough blue workman's shirt - broad at the shoulder and leaving plenty of room for movement. Curiously enough to his father's eyes, the boy had chosen to keep his hair long, tied firmly into a serviceable ponytail - though the appearance seemed to suit his rather bishonen good-looks. And of course was the ever-present battle spatula held in a sling over his back. Overall however, a poor candidature for a potential spouse.

"Yes father, I will report my progress when opportunity arises." Ukyou's face was expressionless as he once more examined the provided address. All these years expended training - perfecting the Kuonji's own martial style - at the sacrifice of all but his okonomiyaki - it was the feverish obsession that only revenge could generate. And now, the means to satisfy that craving for vengeance lay in his own hands.

"My contacts up till now have been very reliable - though you will have to make haste in case the Saotomes move once more. Notify me if anything is amiss," Harakuna continued his dull monologue, "Here are the title deeds to a property I acquired last week in the Nerima district - should you find the need to remain awhile on your task. The previous owner converted the lower rooms into a cafeteria - so it should suit our requirements. In any case I will transfer three million yen to your account, to fund your pursuit." So saying he passed on a sealed full sized envelope.

Ukyou didn't even blink at the massively exogenous increase to his savings - it was a large sum to be sure but then again the Kuonjis were used to large sums. Nor did he query on just who father's 'contacts' were. Harakuna's son had once noted a multi-million yen transfer wire to an unnamed location somewhere in Hokkaido - and from then on had avoided delving in too deeply - lest he discover what type of contacts the Kuonji Clan was involved with. And how Harakuna had actually managed to procure an entire building space that close to the centre of Tokyo in a few weeks was better left unexplored.

The response which the Kuonji Clan leader heard was a generic, "I will find them father, and do what needs to be done." There was nothing really more to say - no fond farewells, wishes of good luck - that was not the nature of the bond between this son and father.

The okonomiyaki chef was uncaring of that - he was long past the point where such trivialities of emotion occupied a space in his focus. Harakuna nodded approvingly, "Then go forth my….son, and restore our Clan honour."

Bowing formally, Ukyou turned and unhesitatingly marched from the ancestral dojo.

***********

"KIIIIYYYAIIII!" The wrenching scream was shortly followed by the sound of soft flesh impacting with hardened wooden floorboards - accompanied by a withering moan. Genma grunted as he slowly rose to his feet. There was only one patch of the dojo uncovered by tatami mats (the budget couldn't afford the extra few), and Akane had once again managed to project him onto that single very solid spot.

Despite his outward annoyance at being floored once more, Genma was pleased to have finally trained a student who could surpass himself on a regular basis - and she was a girl as well. However, that did not mean that he was entirely finished with her. "Now Akane, your aerial moves need plenty of tidying up, and we are going to keep working that 3 point double sidekick until you get it right."

"Yes Uncle Saotome." That oughta keep that baka Kuno off my back. However, in reality she hadn't needed to trounce the crazy kendoist in a long while - her friend Ryouga had seen to that ever since his arrival. Although the interference was a tad annoying (Akane could take care of her own fights thank you very much and please butt out) it was still thoughtful of him to save her the trouble.

Indeed the said bandanna clad boy was watching the lesson avidly - for several reasons - it was martial arts, and he could pick up some pointers to help Akane in their next sparring match. However most of all it was because he really….enjoyed watching her. She was so graceful in combat, moving with the liquid ease that he found lacking in his own more brute strength form with the iron umbrella. Yes, the speed of Anything Goes truly was her style. Sighing wistfully, he stared passionately as her long flowing hair swirled, following the arc of the girl's cross throw. Genma once again made contact with the unyielding floor.

Watching interestedly from the doorway, Tendo Nabiki remained long enough to re-evaluate her sister's skill level - as always truly phenomenal. She revised the estimated 'standard Kuno defeat time' to 6 seconds. It always paid (literally) to keep up to date.

"On second thoughts," Genma tried to suppress the moan, "I think we'll give training a break for now - old Soun'll be wanting another shogi round to redeem his honour." Without waiting for his student's expected protests, the Saotome patriarch beat a very hasty retreat.

Akane's shoulders sagged a little - she still had SO much practice to do, and nothing but inanimate dummies to work with….that is unless……"Ryouga, can we go for another round - I still need to work out this sidekick." She noted his reluctance. "Look I promise I'll take you back to your home afterwards, please? I need to get this down before school starts on Monday."

Ryouga had many reasons why he should have said no - he hated tempting the possibility of bruising her, and added to that was the fact that she ALWAYS managed to break through his defence, no matter how stolid, and land some very hard socks to the body. Ryouga was tough, but dammit those punches HURT. He smiled at the thought - that Akane was such a formidable fighter was one of the multitudes of reasons why he liked her….very much indeed.

Interpreting his blissful smile for acceptance Akane lowered herself into a ready stance. "Thanks Ryouga, I promise I won't hurt you so much this time. You attack first okay?"

Suddenly returning to reality, and the fact that he was about to spar once more, the eternal lost boy suppressed a sigh. He began with a heavy side punch, to which the opponent effortlessly vaulted over, tagging his shoulder as she flew overhead. Yes, promise or not this was going to hurt.

Akane grinned ecstatically - this was just what she had been raised for - to be the best. Ryouga wasn't up to her standard, but he was very close - close enough that fighting him was still a good challenge. If only she could get him to fight back with his full force more often - Akane needed a few heavy bruises to toughen herself up.

**********

Releasing a refreshed breath of air - a celebration of his escape from another half-hour of battering, Genma squatted before the ever-faithful shogi table. "Care to test your skills again Tendo?"

The object of his query raised his head from behind a newspaper to gaze at the clock. "Alright then Saotome, I still have an hour till the next class - more than enough time to knock you over."

The two settled comfortably for the next round. "So how was Akane today?" Soun took his friend's momentary look over toward the dojo to alter Genma's first move.

"As fine as always Tendo - she floored me six times today." Genma absently scratched at a purpling bruise under his collarbone.

"She must be up to heirship standard by now." Soun tentatively broached a subject he had be wanting to discuss for a while.

"That she is Tendo, that she is - you must be a proud father to have such wonderful daughters."

"What of your own son?" There. There he'd said it. The nervous man apprehensively observed his friend's visage darken considerably.

"What, Ranma? I had almost forgotten that ungrateful boy." That wasn't quite true, but the statement served to convey Genma's displeasure very well. "What of him anyway - we haven't heard a word from the boy all these years - not one word!"

Soun carefully regulated his voice into neutrality, "Saotome my old friend, you are not worried for him in the slightest?"

At that, the bereaved father wilted, "Honestly Tendo? I don't know. When I last…….parted with the ninjas, they had already looked after him for months by then. Much as I distrust those kind of people, even they would not have gone to so much trouble if they intended him harm. If I learned anything from the….master" (both unconsciously shuddered at that) "it's that the ninja clans always have a reason for their actions. No, Ranma is alive and well - he simply chooses not to return to his rightful family." Genma's frown deepened at that. What are you doing now my foolishly rebellious son?

His friend briefly imagined a life where his own daughters had deserted him - and abruptly cut that thought when tears threatened to burst from his visage. Weakly, he managed, "Saotome you cannot be sure of that. And in any case he is still your son, your heir, and one of my daughter's future husband."

With his hands clasped about his forehead, the bald martial artist did not notice the rapid fire swapping of shogi pieces that occurred under his nose. "I can't be sure of anything anymore. I haven't seen my own boy in nearly eight years - in such time he could have been corrupted into their way of thinking - by the Kami my old friend, he could be some shadow warrior or a trained assassin by now! What would Nodoka say?" And more importantly, what would Nodoka do? To this day, katanas still elicited a shiver from the Saotome patriarch.

"The master will certainly not be pleased to discover what has become of his heir - not to mention the unity of our schools." And Soun would have done much to eradicate that - a displeased master quickly led to very bad things for his two poor students.

Almost wailing, Genma cried out, "What would you have me do Tendo? My son is held in the clutches of an entire ninja Clan - they're are at least a hundred of them! I tried for months to steal him from those wretched Shinkasa, but nothing." Seeing his friend about to respond and guessing what it was he continued, "and no, I cannot call the authorities. I have…..issues with the police. And besides a clan like theirs could probably hide the boy someplace before we could get to him."

Soun was already familiar with his companion's less than honest nature, and accepted it as a by-product of training in his youth. "Such a tragedy that people like them can still roam free in the world today."

"Yes, Tendo a great tragedy. Oh and it's your move."

His long haired friend looked down in shock. Somehow, in seven moves his position had been utterly desecrated. It didn't matter really, he had to warm up for their next martial arts class. "Looks like you win again Saotome, but I'll beat you yet. I'll be going to change for class." With a wave Soun left his comrade still sitting besides the shogi board.

Absently, the Saotome patriarch wondered what his estranged son was doing at this very moment. That is if he is still alive of course. Best not to think of that.

***********

There were two sensations which Ranma felt as soon as he returned to reality - a great weariness, and an almost overwhelming desire to relieve himself. Dismissal from the lessons was hurriedly accepted by a half-hearted bow and a streaking dash for the nearest lavatory. Chi mastery aside he really wished his sensei appreciated natural bodily functions more readily.

Kagora watched curiously at his kohai's less than dignified departure, and thus was in the correct orientation to note his daughter's silent entrance. "How was it?" she questioned once they were alone.

"Fine - Ranma makes good progress with my teachings - as always."

"Does he know everything about Shinkasa chi arts?" To both, her meaning was quite clear.

Her father sighed regretfully, "In all my years as a sensei, it never gets any easier to reveal that part of all initiated ninjas. Ranma must be….what, the fourth? individual kohai I have taken on and still I cannot find the appropriate moment to tell him." Imagining a generic situation with his student he mimicked, "Oh by the way Ranma, in all the years I have been your master, did I ever mention that sometimes I'm a dog? No? Oh well now you know."

Meyah smirked at the unlikely scenario. "For that I am glad it is not my duty to foster that part of Ranma's education, Master Kagora." More somberly she continued, "Although we have not much time before the expedition to China. We are quite positive that Ranma will be initiated then?"

Eyebrows raised, her father replied, "Why, do you doubt his proficiency in our art?"

"Of course not", she hastily revised. "It is merely that I am concerned of how he will take the event - it is hardly within the scope of normal imagination."

"Broad minded or not, I will be sure to tell him within the week."

Bowing formally as a gesture of parting, his daughter murmured, "As you will, Master Kagora."

Kagora was left alone once again, dwelling on the events that had transpired to bring him to this point in time. Brushing away philosophical musings, the old ninja swiftly exited the dojo, heading for the east wing field - Shikinizawa would be awaiting her next archery lesson.

***********

As per usual, Ranma and Lano were to be found together during the lunch break. The years of living at Shinkasa House had done little to improve the former's outward sociability amongst the greater population of teenagers - though by now it was mostly his own doing. The pair's close knit ties both in and out of training had the unfortunate effect of shifting them into their own personal league - to which outsiders felt distinctly out of place if they tried to join in. Lano managed to offset this with his easy going and amicable personality, whilst his friend's single minded focus on Ninjitsu (not to mention the Mutsabeto Kakuto) only served to further isolate him from his peers.

And for roughly half the population that was considered to be a mournful tragedy - that the pigtailed boy's roguishly dark good looks, and finely muscled frame wasn't combined with a desire to actually associate beyond his Korean friend. Lano had no such qualms, and regularly enjoyed the pleasures of flirting with one or more of the more 'interesting' girls. Thankfully, time spent in the Clan community had mostly dissolved the racial tensions which had kept him in solitude during early childhood. And besides he was sooo kawaii with that wildly wavy brown hair.

Although he openly displayed a certain disgust for his friend's antics, Ranma couldn't help but occasionally (just occasionally) envy the Korean for his natural 'likeability' - especially amongst some members of the opposite sex. Like all growing teenagers, the pigtailed trainee had discovered within himself a certain…..interest in some of the more 'interesting' facts of life. But as always the Art came first and foremost - and until Ranma had reached some unnamed point in his mastery of the combat forms he was very well prepared to forgo the time and energy required to deal with the whole bundle of complexity collectively termed as - girls. And so for now, Ranma was content to remain 'just good friends' with his more frequent female sparring partners.

Lano's whispered comment brought him back to the present. "What was that Lano?"

The Korean regarded his companion curiously for an instant - it wasn't often that Ranma failed to hear anything. "I said the rumour mill has it the masters are planning a trip to China for the best of our age group." He needn't have mentioned that both of them were well considered to own a place in that elite body.

Curiosity piqued, the pigtailed boy stared at him, "When and where exactly?"

Slightly exasperated Lano replied, "Well if I knew that much detail it wouldn't be rumour now would it?" Softening up he added, "Though they say that it's some remote unknown place in the middle of nowhere where all the top Shinkasa ninjas go to be trained."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ranma said nonchalantly, "Well I'll worry about that when it happens. Besides I still have to think about my present training."

"Oh that reminds me, what did you learn from old man Kagora this time?" Ranma's personal tutorial had cut through his normal group lessons.

His friend sighed despondently, "I learned that sitting in the lotus position for more than three hours gives you the worst case of cramps."

Lano's eyebrows raised at the cryptic answer. Hastily Ranma briefly explained the purpose and outcome of today's morning lesson.

"Hmmmm," the Korean mused, "I wonder why Master Kinaro hasn't introduced me to chi techniques yet?"

Ranma smirked at that. "Well that's obvious - clearly Master Kinaro thinks you're not good enough yet for the challenge."

"I don't see you throwing any lightning bolts around," Lano snorted, half in disgust. Though he amiably accepted his friend's natural superiority in both fighting and stealth skills, it could still be a little galling to be always one step behind the pigtailed ninja in every lesson and form.

Glancing at his watch, the object of his ire had no time for a rejoinder. "Sorry Lano, gotta go now - Master Kagora wants me back for more chi control training."

Lano watched with mixed feelings as he tracked Ranma's disappearance around the corner of the mess hall. Resolving not to depress himself on such a beautiful day by ruminating on his training progress, the teenager looked about for more enlightening pursuits - now then that local girl from Lakisa village had been giving him the big eyes all through the crossbow lessons. His practiced gaze, scanning the area quickly located her, cheeks blushing furiously at being discovered. Affixing his most suave smile, Lano sauntered over to acquaint himself with the pretty individual.

**********

A crumpled, though neatly folded letter sealed with black wax and embossed with the tiger and dragon's chop - of course there could be only one sender. Two letters in seven years - a rare treat indeed. Khu Lon had not forgotten Kagora's last penned missive, and the fact that there had not been a single word passed between them for the months following was cause for good cheer to her. The ninja master was not a man to waste words, and would not have bothered to write further on the Nekoken case unless something was amiss.

However, now she was perusing yet another letter. The Amazon matriarch inwardly hoped that it bore fairer tidings than the last.

That was merely a formality - it was comparatively rare that the Shinkasa arranged an expedition to the home of their old allies, but they were always welcome in any case, without the need to request. Aside from the established pacts between tribe and clan, Khu Lon personally looked forward to such meetings - to see the proverbial 'cream' of the crop, and to find the opportunity to pick out the elite for her own meddlings. Kagora was well aware of the ancient matriarch's tendencies, and had established sworn agreements to bar her from interfering with his own plans - but such oaths could be easily circumvented. Amongst old friends it became a playful competition of 'snatch the heir'. To herself personally it was likened to a window shopping excursion, where the wares were presented before her very eyes. This batch was particularly intriguing to the old Amazon because, if her judgement of training times was correct, Saotome Ranma would be amongst the select few. She read on.

Smiling gleefully, the ancient elder hopped off upon her trusty gnarled cane to summon the council - she would follow through with this request immediately. As she passed the doorway of her own home, she briefly considered one part of Kagora's letter where he asked for her tuition personally. That brought on a most 'un-matriarchly' snort. The old ninja master would have had to physically upend her to stop the elder from tutoring Ranma personally. And of course, there is always my Xian Pu to think about. She's grown herself a remarkably fine figure there - an attractive incentive for any male. Khu Lon sighed wistfully. The joys of youth.

************

Retying his longish ponytail, the okonomiyaki chef disembarked from the carriage and proceeded to a nearby local area map that was afixed to the station wall. It took only a moment to confirm the location of the Nerima district - and more precisely a particular street on which it was hoped a certain father and son would be found.

Tightening his coverall jacket over slender shoulders, for the daily air grew considerably colder as winter loomed, Ukyou hoisted his travelling pack once more and trudged up the appropriate exit. Now uncovered by the grimy station roof, the clear aqua blue skies, highlighted in the noon Sun proclaimed a cheery day which drew the multitudes of salarymen and draft workers for a packed luncheon better consumed outdoors - despite the chill.

A most inappropriate day for a reckoning. It had been so very long since the beginning of this episode in his life, that the wandering boy had almost forgotten the original drive that fueled his vengeance. No, that wasn't quite true - he could still clearly recall that awful morning, it was simply that the oppressing events that had compounded from that point onwards had only served to multiply the sorrow, the pain at desertion - until such a time when there was no more 'why' to the revenge, but a 'when' and 'how'. Memories that would stay forever with the youngest Kuonji - the not so inaudible whispers of 'that girl' who had been openly spurned and rejected by the Clan of her betrothed. People, both children and parents alike wondered whether there was perhaps something wrong with her - as a child she appeared at least outwardly not unusual - even pretty perhaps. Cold logic therefore assumed that it was maybe something internal - was 'that girl' perhaps unstable?

A wide variety of speculation arose on just what it was that was 'not quite right' with the little Kuonji girl. Such notoriety did not bode well for the Clan as a whole - Harakuna was now the proud father of a child, who before she had even reached teenager years had been marked out as an outsider. And the added fact that he openly admitted to friends and family that he would have been better off with a son (after all sons could carry on the Kuonji name, and had the right to choose their partners - not be the chosen) had not helped matters in any case.

Turning the corner onto the next street, Ukyou's thoughts shifted over to the present. If their information proved true, then the father/son duo were to be found within the next block. He had not decided as of yet how he would deal with the Saotomes. Revenge to be sure - but what form and how far? His father had stated clearly enough that the offending family had to pay "in blood," but that was all. Though Ukyou was prepared at least to spill a little of it - it was questionable if he was capable of wielding the spatula for murder. No, that would be decided at the proverbial moment of truth.

It was at that point the ponytailed boy came to a semi-ornate wooden entryway, where the kanji for 'Tendo Dojo' was inscribed upon the cross beam. If the Saotomes were to be found here, then that moment of truth would be soon in arrival. Determinedly, Ukyou pushed open the gate and stepped into the residence.

***********

"Saotome Genma?"

The addressed man whirled at the unexpected voice. And before him, not more than seven feet away stood a ruggedly pretty boy, face angled aggressively forward. Cautiously, he replied, "Who's asking?"

That was all the introduction required for the teenager. Snapping the catch of his shoulder sling open, he swiftly pulled out the trusty battle spatula, and in the same motion swung it in a vicious half-arc.

Genma however had not spent the greater majority of his early years in training for nothing, and was already well out of the way in a back flip as the razor flat of the unique weapon passed by with a metallic hiss. Deflecting his opponent's under hand swing with an open palm, and causing the teenager to overextend, he took the momentary breather to query nervously, "Ahhh, have we met before?"

Of course that was not the most appropriate statement - to inform an enraged vengeance seeker that you were totally unaware of there being a situation of contention, and so he wasn't that surprised when the attacker responded with a multi striking combination, this time openly jabbing with the sharpened front. Ukyou's eyes narrowed in furious concentration, ambiently aware of the scenario in proximity so as not to foul himself by treading upon a stray cushion. He attempted to maintain the pressure of the offensive to keep the old Saotome off balance.

"Can you tell me who you are first? Maybe we can settle this peacefully?" Genma half-pleaded in ragged gasps. He was very skilled to be sure - but age and poor eating habits had eked away at his endurance. And this enemy was fast, savage, and very very determined indeed.

Unlike other combatants he had encountered in his relatively short life, Ukyou knew that personally the more enraged he was, the higher his focus of intensity. And this offender's pathetic attempts to appease the years of wrong-doing, and the very fact that the sweating man seemed callously unaware of having inflicted such misery fueled an anger like nothing before.

Having failed to attain a short respite, the gi clad martial artist opted for his only viable option - to run. Despite his supreme skill in this last Anything Goes Final Attack borne of literally years of sometimes daily practice, this time the technique proved a critical error. With a final sequential double kick, Genma attempted to buy the microseconds needed to flee from sight. With his back turned however he couldn't see his opponent withdraw from a bandoleer previously hidden within the chef's baggy shirt a small, steel spatula.

Thus Genma was caught totally in shock as Ukyou expertly drew back his wrist and hurled the chosen projectile into a rapidly spinning arc, the flat of the mini spatula keeping the blade aloft. With a precision honed to deadly accuracy the spatula arced low heading for the legs.

As he ran, the Saotome patriarch could hear the faintly disturbing sigh of metal cutting through air. Recognising vaguely the sound for what it was Genma was nonetheless unable to dodge sufficiently as the inertia of a full sprint continued to carry him forwards. With a sickly wet thump the razor flat of the blade almost lovingly caressed the exposed calf and sank deep, severing muscle and agonizingly scraping the bone. With a howl, the stout man crumpled to the front yard pavement, pain overriding his natural martial artist's instincts to roll with the fall. However these inbred reflexes quickly regained control of the rapidly disintegrating situation, and sparked him back to his feet, favouring the uninjured limb. Genma had paid for his momentary miscalculation, and paid in full. Ignoring the blood pattering down in small rivulets he weakly tried to uphold a defence against the oncoming okonomiyaki chef.

For his opponent, the moment when the accurately aimed spatula actually cut flesh came as a totally riveting shock.

Oh yes, Ukyou had trained tirelessly to master the curious device - he was in no doubts as to success as soon as spatula left the hand. But to actually experience the razor at its finest moment - when it performed its designated duty of spilling blood - well that was poignantly different.

Ukyou fought down the urge to be retch as he stared at the unnervingly consistent flow of red as it stained the fresh grass a deep crimson. The darker portion of his mind banefully reminded him that there was yet another Saotome to be found - a quick inspection of the premises preceding this attack had revealed that currently Genma was alone.

Fighting to maintain an air of detachment, the chef again brought his battle spatula to the fore. Vividly recalling all the trials and pain he had endured to this point made it so much easier to continue this battle with a wounded enemy. Taking advantage of Genma's lack of maneuverability he extended his hold on the long armed weapon, swinging from a distance.

To the Anything Goes practitioner's credit, the defence under the onslaught was marvelous - but without the use of his painfully fiery leg, and the weakened perceptions from loss of blood Genma never had a chance. Taking a vicious punch from the blunt edge of the spatula in the stomach, followed by a smash in the face with the flat which bloodied his nose the old Saotome was again toppled unceremoniously to the soft earth.

Weakly, he pleaded, begging continually for his life as Ukyou stepped close, resting the razor flat firmly against his trachea. The chef's ears heard these cries, recording them though the mind ignored the pleas for the moment. He had a mission to carry out. Steeling his voice, Ukyou menacingly demanded, "Where is your son Genma? I have yet to deal with him."

Any thought of protecting his estranged sire fled when, as if to punctuate the words, the ponytailed martial artist leaned carefully into the haft of his spatula - insufficient to break skin, but enough to pass the intent to do so.

"M-My son? I haven't seen the b-boy in years," the father hurriedly blurted, hoping that for the one time where he actually told the truth, he would be believed.

Staring down at him, Ukyou's eyes seemed to be daring the man to lie. With a confidence he didn't feel, the chef asked again, "Where is he?"

"T-the boy left me years ago. H-he's with a clan, a ninja clan, called the Shinkasa."

"Where?" Ukyou was acutely aware that with the amount of blood flowing from the slashed calf, Genma might not remain on this side of consciousness to reveal more.

"H-Hashima, a town in Hokkaido. There's a mountain near it - I-I don't know what. But the boy's there." Genma fervently wanted to just curl up somewhere warm and hide. "P..please just leave me alone."

Now thoroughly sick of the entire affair, Ukyou raised his spatula off the throat of the prone martial artist. Recalling his father's commands, he clenched his jaw and steeled the resolve and swiftly cut down across Genma's chest, opening his gi and leaving a long, but relatively light slash across the heavy torso. It was not fatal, but would leave a noticeable scar.

That done, Ukyou promptly turned and fled. He fervently hoped that father's demand for blood would be satisfied by this - because there was no way in hell the chef would have spilled more from the helpless old man. Abruptly the image of the startlingly white colour of exposed bone amongst a pool of neatly sliced flesh arose unbidden to his eyes, and Ukyou was suddenly forced to keel over himself and relieve his protesting stomach of today's breakfast. Vengeance or otherwise, the teenager felt truly awful.

So awful in fact that the recollection of his having left the throwing spatula with the bleeding Saotome never arose until long afterwards.

********** 

It was Soun who first encountered the fallen Saotome patriarch, sprawled eloquently upon their front entryway to the house. He was already unconscious from blood loss, and had thus caused a dreadful fright lying unmoving in a small pool of his own life fluid. At the sight of his prone companion, Soun automatically dashed forwards to check the vitals, and finding Genma still breathing shot up to race for the telephone. Dr Tofu had to be summoned at once. In doing so, it totally slipped the panicked father's mind that the reason for his leaving the premises was to accompany Kasumi on her trip to the market to help carry the goods. Therefore the eldest Tendo daughter would have been right behind….

"OH MY!!" …….him.

Groceries were dropped heavily to the ground as she stared transfixed at the grisly array before her, visage as pale as the unconscious figure blocking their front path. Too late to shield his daughter from the sight, Soun again turned to the phone, cursing himself for his ineptitude.

After relaying the urgency of the situation, the Tendo father again returned to the front yard to see what would be done to help his old friend. One did not need a medical background to see that old Genma was in no condition to help himself. Upon reaching the open front door however, he came upon an unexpected sight - Kasumi had already propped Genma's wounded leg above heart level and was in the process of bandaging the exposed cut with a strip torn from the hem of her apron. The chest wound had already been similarly covered, and a damp cloth placed over the bald man's forehead.

Soun could only watch baffled as his eldest daughter expertly tied several Red Cross Approved pseudo-depressing pads. When did Kasumi take first aid courses?

His curiosity was short lived as Tofu Ono arrived on the scene, a little short of breath from having sprinted the entire journey. It was then that the 'Tofu is currently near Kasumi' connection was identified within Soun's whirling brain - though far too late to stop it.

And very fortunately for all present (especially the currently incapacitated patient), it appeared that emergency situations overrode the exemplary doctor's natural reflexive reactions to the lovely girl, and prompted within him the deft medical skills which had earned the clinic a good name for miles around. He barely acknowledged Kasumi's presence save for an appreciatively grateful glance at the temporary patchwork she had produced.

In short order therefore, Genma was bandaged up and shipped off to Nerima Ward hospital with the firm reassurance from Tofu that though there was a great deal of fluid loss, he should pull through without complications. "That cut to his calf was nasty to be sure, but remarkably clean and narrow - so after some retying of the tendons, Mr Saotome should do fine with stitches and small cast." He frowned a little at the next comment, "That slash to the chest is curious however."

Seeing the worried wide eyed look which had suddenly surfaced on the Tendo patriarch's face, he hastily added, "Nothing serious mind you, simply that it was a strange wound to receive in a fight."

Now on to territory which Soun was personally more familiar with (fighting) he seemed to perk up from the atmosphere of despondency. "What was wrong with the wound? It looked to be a normal sword cut."

Gravely, the doctor responded, "No it was caused by a blade far sharper than that - and what is more it was not the quick slash of a flying blade, but drawn across slowly. And from the consistency I'd say it might have been done when Mr Saotome had already fallen."

Soun's eyes narrowed dangerously at that. Somebody had dared to wound a helpless opponent - it was most dishonourable.

"Could this have been the device used to inflict the wounds, Doctor Tofu?" Kasumi tentatively asked, holding out a bloodied mini-spatula distastefully at arm's length, even though it was sandwiched in the remains of her apron. "I found it near poor Mr Saotome."

Tofu's eyes seemed to focus for the first time upon the third member of their conversation. He found himself lost in her bright gaze, falling like a drowning man into those endlessly warm depths. "Ka…Ka….KaSUMI! Aie, ah, oh…hehee…"

Soun clutched his head mournfully, trying to fight off the tears that threatened to burst forth simply because the situation was so terribly chaotic. Thus he never noticed the good doctor dancing off down the side street, immersed in the joys of his sweet Kasumi and ever faithful Betty-chan. Neither of the two could figure out just when these episodes had started, sometime when the Tendo girl had turned fifteen or so, but it was most annoying if one wished for a straight conversation.

"Hi dad I'm home! Why's everyone in the……MY GOD!!!"

Soun gave up, and his promise to Genma be damned, started weeping.

***********

"Now how did we fare this time?" Kagora's tone was genially enigmatic as always.

"I think better this time sensei. I could hold the energy for a few seconds at least." Ranma's positive words did not match his pessimistic expression.

"All well and good. Once you have sufficient control, we can start to hold the chi outside the body - and from then on the rest is relatively easy."

The boy only sighed - at the rate progress was going it seemed he'd be as old as the master before he could even start leaning the stupid technique.

With an unusually kind smile, Kagora patted his student on the shoulder, "It's hard for all of us at first Ranma. It is not that you lack the talent - simply that your mind needs to be accustomed to channeling its energy in ways that to the normal human functionings are very peculiar indeed. Master Rishoto once likened it to trying to move a table by literally thinking it to move, as if the wood were part of your body. To most people it is simply just not how things are done……yet." The last word was added with a mysterious gleam to his eyes.

"Hai, sensei." The pigtailed ninja's back straightened considerably - he would not give up, that was for sure.

Eyeing him carefully, Kagora gestured for his kohai to leave for the day. "Oh and Ranma, practice your katas as you wish, but refrain from trying out your chi arts tonight - they will only exhaust you for the next day."

"Hai sensei," the teenager nodded. He was too pooped to meddle in mind techniques anyway. As soon as Master Kagora was out of sight, Ranma immediately shifted into dash mode. It was his turn to cook tonight, and he was late.

**********

"He's WHERE?" Akane shouted.

"Onee-chan already told us where he was, and you needn't shout sis - everyone's here to hear you," Nabiki murmured wearily. She had a headache already, and Akane's ultra decibel tantrums were not pleasant on the ears.

Soun continued solemnly, "We will have to wait until Saotome awakens from his surgery - then we can ask him what happened. Until then all we have to go by is this device." At this point he held forth delicately the small spatula, still stained with blood.

Akane's eyes narrowed in fury. Her sensei had been viciously beaten and maimed, the unnecessary chest slash an indication of some sick sadist at work. If she ever found the creep who did this……..

"Akane now, don't lose your temper." Kasumi murmured comfortingly, observing her younger sister's murderous expression. "Seething won't help Mr Saotome - and all we can do is wait."

Akane hated waiting. So she marched off to practice that advanced aerial kicking combination learned a few weeks ago. It still needed tiding up. After all she couldn't afford to let Ryouga get too close to her skill level. Despite his infuriating unwillingness to strike back at her - it was clear that she still held the upper hand over him - though only just.

The middle Tendo daughter after hearing this exchange exasperatedly launched herself from the couch and headed to her computer upstairs. The rest of the family may have been resolved to squat and do nothing, but maybe…just maybe she could find some information on any criminals or Yakuza known for leaving razor cooking utensils as calling cards.

Soun could only sit gloomily. Two hours gone, and he already missed his old friend. The shogi board sat undisturbed - just begging for a game. Oh Saotome my friend, I am so sorry that I was not here to help you. The pair has always fought as a team, two against the world (Master Happousai had few friends). It just wasn't right that one of them be ganged up on by himself without the other to cover his back.

*************

*************

"What laws?" Meyah queried from behind. Kagora looked up from his reading to note that at some unknown point his daughter had joined him to follow the closely written kanji.

Amusedly he commented, "I thought you studied Joketsuzoku law in your younger days. Don't tell me you've already forgotten."

Mildly irked at his teasingly condescending tone, she replied, "Nooo, I have not forgotten the Amazon laws Master Kagora - all one hundred and sixty four of them." Left unspoken was the implication that her father himself could not claim to have remembered every one. "I was just inquiring as to which laws our 'traditional agreements' applied to.

Arranging himself more comfortably on the seat cushion, the aged ninja master began his explanation. "As you well know, one of the more infamously annoying laws of theirs is the 'defeated Amazon woman must kill outsider females and marry outsider males' clause. Declared challenges only of course. However this caused havoc when we sent our very best ninja trainees over there - especially considering our ancient personal attachments to Jusenkyo. The matriarchs were only too eager to grab at such healthy 'foreign blood', but it was against Clan policy to give up its best members simply because of some foreign rule." He smiled a little at the understatement. "And so, generations before you Meyah, the masters of the past arranged an agreement that during the time of training up till initialisation of the worthy, all laws regarding such combat and challenges were temporarily nulled - that our females could practice in safety, and our males could work in…….peace." Wryly he thought to previous cases during the time of his reign as ninja master. Some of the more……enthusiastic male trainees hadn't minded the attention all that much - especially considering that the Chinese Amazons in general were gifted with more than their fair share of healthy genes (the aged master's way of saying that Joketsuzoku was full of 'babes').

"I suppose that would be fortunate for Ranma." Meyah replied dubiously. She was hoping that her child would find the opportunity to associate with a wider variety of people outside the Clan. Against her preferences, the only other member he tended to converse with was Iyarasora Lano, whilst the others tended to leave the pair alone. To the swordmaster's eyes, Ranma, though courteous and eloquent enough was poorly experienced in the mores of common society - critical to any ninja in the field.

However, they had more important matters of immediacy to consider. "Have you told him yet?" Her father's sinking expression told her no.

"I was hoping that you might….." Kagora trailed off. "He would take it better from his own mother."

Meyah's eyes danced playfully, "Oh, is the mighty ninja master now fobbing off his duties to those lower in the caste?" Her upraised hand - a perfect duplication of her father's habits - forestalled any insulted protests he might generate. "Don't worry, Master Kagora I will tell him if you are too afraid to." She bowed once and swiftly melted out of the room.

Kagora watched her disappear in silence. Insolent child. But his eyes were smiling.

***********

"Ranma, rest awhile for a moment - we have something to discuss."

The boy reluctantly lowered his weapons. Today was one of the practice sessions he particularly favoured - where the training was with the steel of a proper katana instead of the wooden bokkens. Although the two instruments were very similar in balance and weight - it was considered vital that a trainee be closely familiar with the handling of a true blade - primarily the fact that overuse of the practice swords tended to breed a certain callousness to the cutting power of a real katana.

Indeed that was perhaps the single disadvantage that Ranma had identified of his chosen tools. These swords were superb maiming and killing devices - but were of little use for anything else in battle. Unlike Lano's hefty bo-staff, it was actually a considerable difficulty to disable an opponent without seriously injuring him - involving complex and often uncomfortable side slashes with the flat or haft of the blade. As such it was not unusual that for daily passage, most of the ninjas, masters included, carried weapons of wood - as they proved more than sufficient to keep the local peace. Steel was for proper missions only.

However all this was of little concern as Ranma sheathed his blades and moved to stand before his sensei. He could tell from the serious set of her eyes, and the fact that she had interrupted sword training that this was hardly a light matter of discourse.

"I'm sure you've heard the occasional rumour that a training trip has been planned to China - for the best of the trainees only."

The teenager nodded; 'occasional' was a mild understatement - Lano had been continually offering speculation on where, when, why, and how this journey was to take place - literally driving his friend up the wall (Ranma had scaled the perimeter palisade to escape the continuous babbling).

"Well, it is perhaps obvious that for any such expedition you would be a participant - we needn't be modest - you are the single best grey band trainee for this generation's group……" and for any other as well "….that is of course if you accept the invitation."

As she expected, her son affirmed that very emphatically.

"Well, there are several important matters we have to settle preceding that.- and it falls to me to inform you of them." Here she decided to begin with a more personal issue - though Master Kagora had never ordered her to do so.

"Ranma, both Master Kagora, myself and many other sensei have taught you a very diverse range of skills - aside from the art of Ninjitsu, you have a basic grasp of scholarly knowledge, cooking, survival training, and some of my own herbal remedies, medicines and healing arts." She smiled at the last points. Ever since her son had begun working with her father on chi and ki arts - their own progress with her healer's teachings had accelerated rapidly. Ranma was no qualified healer himself - but he could hasten the repairing of mild cuts and bruises.

Meyah continued seriously, "However nonetheless you have lived a very sheltered life - isolated from a very young age from normal Japanese society. No one can fault your combat skills, but to cope with the trials of living in a real community outside the clan…well…..we cannot know how you will fare."

Of course, Ranma failed to see what the fuss was about. "Is that really necessary sensei? After all, I've managed well enough with just Lano for company."

"Ranma there are many ways to defeat an opponent aside from physically overcoming him, or her. I am not blind - I have seen how you deal with others your own age - especially girls."

Her son had the grace to blush at that. For the martial artist/ninja, the hazy concept of the opposite sex had always remained just that - a hazy concept. He found the idea mysteriously intriguing, and wondered at what his Korean companion played at fussing with them on a higher level all the time. In stark contrast, the pigtailed boy tended to avoid the issue entirely - he was cordial and friendly - but that was the utmost extent. For the moment girls could be likened to boys - they were friends, occasionally sparring partners, and not……...whatever it was Lano saw them as.

"I had hoped that you might follow Iyarasora Lano's example - well, at least the idea of it." The Korean was a little overboard in his initiative, stringing his own personal cadre of female fans whilst refusing to commit to any one on a serious level. Seeing her son's exasperated look, she added, "I'm not asking you to convert into a social animal - just simply be cautious when dealing with people outside our sphere - as you will have to eventually do when we leave for China." Thinking of her own discussion with Kagora with concerns to Khu Lon, the swordmaster took a moment to mention, "There are some in the world who would seek to take advantage of your naïveté" (he winced at that), "and make use of your high standing in our Clan. Like it or not, you now bear the responsibility to uphold Shinkasa honour - and some may seek to weaken the clan through you." She said no more on that, leaving her kohai to puzzle out the cryptic nature of her words.

"Now, on to the more critical piece of information you have to know." She gestured to the open doorway. "Come with me."

As they walked, Ranma rapidly identified the course the pair were taking. In due time they arrived at Master Kagora's dojo - it seemed that no matter what happened he always ended up here.

What was perhaps surprising was that apparently from the ninja master's inquiring gaze, he had not expected their presence - where the pigtailed ninja had grown accustomed to Kagora's knowing nearly everything beforehand. Mutely, Meyah's father observed as she led her son before him.

"Ranma, on some occasions, Master Kagora is a dog."

Silence…………

More silence……….

"Huh?"

This time Kagora did clutch his head and groan mournfully. "I thought I asked you to be tactful, daughter."

"And sometimes, I am a bird."

"E-excuse me, err sensei?"

"Kami above Meyah are you trying your best to disrupt the situation utterly and completely?"

His daughter only grinned, her eyes twinkling cheekily.

"I swear your antics will drive me to an early grave."

"Not likely, Master Kagora - I learnt long ago that nothing will drive you to any grave, early or otherwise."

And of course Ranma continued to gape, totally bewildered at the incomprehensible exchange occurring before him.

Finished with her fun for the moment, Meyah continued. "Now that the appropriate atmosphere has been set, I can begin." She hesitated to organize her tale. "Your history lessons have taught you that Clan Shinkasa was founded more than three thousand years ago by five siblings - three brothers and two sisters. What history has not revealed however was that one of them - the younger sister, and third born of the five - was inflicted with a curious 'property' - for want of a better word. Whenever she was doused with cold water, her body transformed, almost instantly, into the form of a black panther. Thankfully, hot water would initiate a reversion back to her true human body, and she would remain thus until her next encounter with cold water."

The swordmaster ignored her son's disbelieving gaze, as she paused for breath. "This curious shape shifting form was attained at a somewhat legendary place nestled in the Bayankala Mountain Range within central China - known as the Springs of Jusenkyo - although in those ancient times it lived under a differing title. For a simple description it is a flat wetland with several hundred individual natural water springs dotted about in random fashion over a vast area. It was said that the spirit of a life form was to be found in every pool of water - the spirit of the soul that drowned there. And so any unfortunate individual who happens to fall into that spring will adopt this form as if they had been born into it - that is until they find some hot water. There are many different types of animals - horses, tigers, mice, bears - a wide variety - not to mention different humans as well."

Ranma couldn't help but shudder at that concept - imagining himself morphed into a grisly body like a worm or something equally undesirable.

"And so, Shinkasa Ashika faced both a considerable array of problems and advantages. Her animal form was quieter, faster, and more powerful than a natural human - highly useful enhancements to any ninja. Even the cat's colouration was suitable to night stalking. Unfortunately though, black panthers are a somewhat rarity in China and Japan - considering that in those times they were not to be found in Eastern Asia as a whole. Daily life became a rigorously stressful chore of continually hunting for hot water - you wouldn't believe how easily one can get wet where natural events such as rain can cause an instant change in the most inappropriate situations.

In any case there were soon village outcries of 'rogue demon shape-shifters' running through the populace, and in desperation of preserving themselves and the secrecy of their art, the five fled back to China whence they came in the hope of finding a cure. It is not known exactly for how long the Shinkasa founders journeyed in search of a remedy, but records suggest that they eventually ended up in the highlands of Tibet of all places - wherein a cure was discovered allowing the bearer to control his or her form at will, and negate the effects of water. Indeed, it was a relatively simple concept - although to date the Shinkasa are the only people who know how to shapeshift Jusenkyo forms at will." Meyah added with a mysterious gaze.

Since the first time that the word 'China' had been mentioned in his mother's tirade, Ranma had developed an inkling of the possible link between this historical episode and his own future - but he remained silent.

"To other 'victims' of the springs, the magic is a curse - but to us it is a supreme ability.- one that is coveted amongst the Ninjitsu that people are able to move about in a virtually undetectable guise. And thus, after establishing the control, the remaining four voluntarily doused themselves in their carefully chosen springs to 'attain' a second body, so to speak. That tradition was continued thereon as an honour for the most skilled of the Clan members - to this very day." The last was said with clear meaning.

Oh boy. A mixture of doubt and wary trepidation was written on the ninja trainee's features. Meyah would never joke in a situation such as this - and Master Kagora never fooled around full stop. He recalled his mother's words at the beginning of this conversation. Sometimes Master Kagora is a dog? Oh boy.

"Of course, there are many reasons why the Shinkasa Clan have survived for so long, even to this day - but one of them is the fact that the highest ranking clan members can virtually disappear into the background in the most desperate situations."

Here, Kagora interrupted, "I think a demonstration is in order not so?"

His daughter nodded in agreement. "Who first?"

"I think you can have the honour, my daughter."

The swordmaster nodded before turning to her son, "Are you ready for this? It can come as quite a shock to the unprepared."

"Hai sensei." He was as ready as he would ever be for a situation like this.

She took a step back, as her son watched inquisitively, loosening the ties that held the collar of her grey shirt together. "It can be quite an inconvenience to try to get out of human clothing when all you have is a pair of wings."

Ranma only nodded dumbly. This was already turning toward the far fetched.

Meyah closed her eyes, straightening her back - then abruptly she shrank almost instantaneously - seeming to disappear into the folds of her roomy clothing, which fluttered gracefully into a disarrayed heap to the floor. Her son could not help but gasp a little as he saw his mother vanish before his very eyes.

Totally accustomed to the spectacle, the still human ninja master merely stepped forwards, reaching into the folds of his daughter's clothes and gently pulled out a……pulled out a………"M-Mom?"

"Kaaaaaarrrr" she responded neutrally.

"Come now Ranma you didn't really expect her to say anything productive did you?" the aged master queried pleasantly.

The boy continued to stare transfixed like a bird totally fascinated by a snake. Mom was……well currently she was a sleek, brown feathered falcon, with golden highlights tinging her wingtips. Her belly and chest was covered with what appeared to be a softer downy layer of feathers, which ruffled slightly as she shook herself, perched upon her father's outstretched wrist. Head cocked to one side, Meyah gazed intently at her son in only the way that a bird of prey could, one yellow irised eye blinking at him amusedly.

Actually, to Ranma's eyes she was admittedly very beautiful - a sleek hunter's frame designed for speed - the grace of a born killer. It was just that she was also…….

"Mom?"

"Kaarrrrrrr" her eyes were more communicative, shining as if to say, Well what did you expect me to say?

Alright, so the tale was true - his mother was a bird. He could live with that - after all when one really thought about it - it wasn't so unbelievable. Gawd, who was he kidding, this was downright bizarre. In literally one sitting the concept of reality had been overturned - sure it was easy enough to accept chi blasts, metal slicing katanas (and hands as well, he considered dryly) - but morphing mothers?

A little impatiently, Kagora cut in, "Yes yes well I think we have learnt enough from this have we not? I trust you are now convinced of the credibility of our historical reiteration?"

"H-hai sensei." A new thought occurred to the boy. "Master? Do you turn into a dog?"

"That is so," he answered gravely, "and I needn't inform you that this - and any other shapeshifting abilities are to be kept as secret as possible - even to other Clan members. Only the masters and a select few have the skill - and as such it is not a matter of general discussion. Is that clear?"

The boy bowed formally, and affirmation of his commitment. His master accepted this with an approved shake of his head. "I will take my daughter to more private quarters where she may change back to her human form - as you can see the clothes that she wears are unaffected by the transformation." So saying the ninja master reached down and scooped the pile of undergarments and daywear, then floated over to his adjoining rooms, Meyah still perched patiently on his wrist.

He returned a moment later, closing the door behind him. "Now, would you care to see my animal form?"

"O-okay….sensei," he murmured dubiously.

And with no further ado, another heap of cloth consisting of Kagora's own knee length black gi was produced, whilst amidst it emerged a rather disgruntled canine, vainly attempting to extricate himself from the undershorts that had previously girthed a human waist. Unthinkingly, the dog's kohai moved forward to assist, before the peculiarity of the scenario took hold. He tried to imagine himself from an external perspective - pulling a pair of underpants off a domestic creature.

"Really Master Kagora I would have thought that so experienced a ninja master would have remembered to doff his clothing before shapeshifting." Meyah, having returned to her normal mode of appearance and dress kneeled before her father, and between the two of them managed to pull the exasperated dog free.

"Arff!" Again as before there was a decided barrier to communication, though habitually his daughter knew from long experience that this was his way of conveying 'Insolent Child'.

Observing her own son's curious cursory glance, she explained. "We have never figured out exactly what species this dog is - some cross between Alsatian and Malamute." Which was entirely academic to the confused boy, since he was no expert on dogs and knew not of either foreign name. Ranma noted that following the Master's human age, the dog's coat showed traces of white, especially along its heavy muzzle. However, Kagora's form still carried the aura of a working class animal - long hefty legs a suitable compromise between power and speed, the sharp forward pointed ears and exceptional fangs enhancing the ninja's 'no-nonsense' attitude. A dog with the catfist - how appropriate.

Actually, now that these transformations had been so evidently demonstrated, he found himself growing at least somewhat accustomed to the idea. It was as Master Meyah had suggested an infinitely useful property, when one considered that dogs and birds might be able to go places where no man could. As well, it was a convenient escape alternative - to suddenly 'disappear' and be replaced by an unrelated creature.

Unconcerned by his student's speculative gaze, Master Kagora nonchalantly gathered his own clothing, dragging it between his jaws. Without assistance from either, the large mammal jogged to the same rooms from which Meyah had earlier emerged.

There was a meaningful silence whilst the ninja master presumably re-dressed himself. Meyah took the momentary solitude to observe her son - for someone who had just viewed both his mother and grandfather (of sorts) turn literally into beasts - well he was taking the shock surprisingly well. "Ranma, you are aware how all of this applies directly to you, are you not?"

"Y-yeah, I think so sensei - I am gonna to be taken to this Jusenkyo in our upcoming trip right?"

Her eyes crinkled ever so slightly - the boy had a tendency to slip into his old manner of speech during times of stress. "That is so. The village which we will be journeying to is called Joketsuzoku - the home of the Amazons." She waved him off as he drew breath to query just how Amazons ended up in central China. "All the details will be revealed at a later time. In any case….."

"Yes, in any case," Kagora took over from the doorway. "The village of Joketsuzoku is located relatively close to the Springs of Jusenkyo - and they consider themselves unofficial guardians of the premises. We will remain under their hospitality for a year or so, and in such time you will be given the opportunity to attain a Jusenkyo form."

"I will get to choose another body?" That was a decision he had not been expecting a need to make within his own lifetime.

"No, fate will choose your form for you, as it has always been." Kagora indicated that the discussion was over for the moment with a characteristic hand gesture. "Loremaster Rishoto will provide you with the information in its entirety in your next private lesson."

"Hai sensei's. And thank you…..I guess." his kohai stated somewhat dubiously.

"Go now Ranma - I believe it is your turn to prepare dinner." Meyah added gently.

Without another word, the pigtailed boy disappeared with the same silence that marked out all three in the dojo.

Again, Kagora's favoured room was enveloped in silence.

"Well, Master Kagora I think that all things considered, it went quite well. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Master Meyah - you handled that part of our heritage very….uniquely indeed." Insolent child.

*************

Lano offered a cheerful greeting as he accepted a generous ladle-full of miso soup from his friend. From the time they were considered mature enough, all clan trainees - male or female, were introduced to the fine art of the culinary skills - as part of their self-sufficiency in life (whether they liked it or not). And incidentally, Ranma did NOT like it, especially since it was discovered that he had quite a talent for cooking delectable dishes. For some reason the pigtailed ninja was continually haunted by an image of himself bedecked in apron and bonnet, and armed with a pair of chopsticks whilst he pottered continually amongst simmering pots and pans - now and then pausing to lift a lid and sample a taste - no that suyaki was much too salty, and as for those fishballs……..Ranma cut that train of thought off very sharply. Yeeeeeee.

From the Korean's perspective the erstwhile chef was seen to shiver visibly. Lano grinned anyway - he knew just what his companion was thinking. "And I'd love some of that deee-licious beef tapinyaki which only you can make to such perfection."

The pigtailed ninja's eyes narrowed very dangerously. "Shaddup Lano."

Oh no, much more of your special sauce. Much much much….."

"Laaanooo. How would you like me to use this spoon in ways you could never have possibly dreamed of?"

The Korean wisely chose to move on. Friendly teasing could only go so far.

Muttering unintelligible phrases, where most probably would have appreciated their unintelligibility, Ranma returned to stirring the miso soup. Taking a surreptitious sip, his ever-present frown diminished just a little. Lano was right about one thing - his food was delicious.

***********

Finding his comrade at their traditional eating table, Ranma plonked down heavily, the movement devoid of the usual catlike grace. "Man what a day."

"You're telling me - you wouldn't believe what I learnt from Master Kinaro today." Surreptitiously Lano's eyes scanned the crowd, gauging any within hearing range. It was then that his gaze fell across the table before him where Ranma was returning the stare with equal intensity. A moment of silent communication passed between the pair, before each realised that they were thinking of the same 'discovery'.

"So…." A pause, "what're their forms?"

"A falcon, and a dog - mother's the falcon. How about yours?"

At that the Korean let loose a blatant smirk which his friend guessed had probably been present throughout the entire 'Master to student' talk. "A pigeon."

His counterpart's eyebrows shot as high as was physically possible. "Master Kinaro - a……."

"Yup, that's right - a pigeon. Took me by shock as well - I had to bite myself to stop from laughing out loud."

Ranma tried to equate the muscle bound thick chested monster of a man (okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration) with a fluffy, docile, seemingly harmless……."By the Kami - a pigeon."

"Actually - it's quite a good disguise if you really think about it." Lano ignored his counterpart's responding choke on a current mouthful of rice. "No, really - after all pigeons are everywhere in urban areas - and nobody would ever believe that muscle man Miumasarano of all people would change into one."

His friend hesitated, "You know, Master Kinaro hates that surname."

Bemused, the Korean commented, "I would too if I had a name like that - Miumasarano Kinaro."

Absently, the pigtailed trainee returned to the topic, "I wonder what form I'll get?"

"Yeah," Lano agreed, appearing worried for the first time, "I mean it would be downright awful to be stuck with…...say a fish's body."

The reply came as a snort, "Baka, how can a fish drown in a spring?"

The Korean had the decency to look down sheepishly. "I guess so." Brightening, he added, "Anyway it doesn't help to worry about it now - we'll deal with that when the time arrives. Besides I have other things to concern me for the present." The last was whispered with a pointed look at the female side of the eating hall.

"My God how can you behave like that all the time - stringing them all along?" a decidedly more conservative Ranma queried exasperatedly.

His friend issued him with a wounded look, "I'm not stringing them along on purpose - I'm just nice to the girls, that's all. They draw they're own conclusions from that."

"Pick a girl, go out with her, and get over it - you know you'd get on better with the other guys if you'd make up your mind instead of having half the girls tagging along after you."

Lano valiantly attempted to shift the direction of this conversation, "You know the only reason that so many 'go' after me is that they know they can't 'get' you." Without waiting for the expected wave of protests he continued, "And you're the one to talk about making friends - I'm the only person you ever talk to, with the exception of the masters."

Ranma had no retort to that - where his best friend had quoted the same concept as proposed by Master Meyah. "You're right - but then socialising is only second priority to me - the art comes first." Returning to his original tirade the teenager added, "And that isn’t any excuse for your indecision."

"Hey, I'll make my decision when I'm good and ready - in the meantime I like to keep my options open."

The trainee sighed, "Whatever you say Lano."

***********

"Whatever you say Akane", Ryouga sighed forlornly. She had cadged him into yet another sparring match, like she did every time - since he never really could say no to her, not when she used those sweet begging eyes. All he could do was train with the same vigour - to offer a challenge to her - after all he had to be worthy of her regard at the very least. And anyway, Akane was the best martial artist in the whole of Nerima (which for a district like that was a hefty accolade), and the best route to hone his own formidable skills. Absently, the broad shouldered youth reached to touch an aching bruise on his arm - if only it didn't hurt so much.

"I really have to keep training Ryouga - I mean what if the family is attacked again?" Surprisingly, and for no apparent reason, Genma had remained somewhat tight lipped about the whole affair, despite the family's persistence in locating the assailant. And although he was out of hospital, the injured leg was far from restored - requiring a set cast to prevent agitation of the deep, but neat wound. Currently the old Anything Goes Practitioner was resigned to rolling about on a wheel chair - the only reason he remained there at all being the stern warning from Doctor Tofu that trying to walk would damage the precisely re-connected tendons and hamper the right calf. The word 'crippled' and 'martial artist' could never exist in the same sentence - especially for the Mutsabeto Kakuto Ryu.

Even the bandanna clad boy, who only knew the injured sensei by his relation to Akane was appalled by the woundings - for it took a martial artist of considerable skill to down Saotome Genma - and thus was a figure to be respected.

For Akane the matter was more straight forward - somebody had attacked her sensei, and it was her duty to see that no further harm came to anybody. The anonymous attacker had beaten Soun's old friend to be sure, but then again so had she on regular occasions - and Akane was more than prepared to face an opponent matching up to her level.

If he ever dared to venture in these parts again - the Anything Goes heir vowed he would pay.

***********

Master Kinaro slumped heavily into his appointed seat. Another week another council.

"I am glad we have all assembled punctually," Rishoto began, "The general order of business can be attended to later - the primary mode for discussion tonight is the upcoming China expedition to the village of Joketsuzoku."

"What is there to discuss?" another Master from the far table responded. "We have their permission, we go, we train. What more?"

Kagora took the opportunity to intercede with his own query, "I will be going as always - but who will accompany me?"

A wide assortment of mumbles, and murmuring was his answer. Dealing with the Amazons was to most a mixture of new learning experiences, and general headaches. Their wide array of regulations and laws, as well as odd notions on custom and etiquette made interaction a somewhat sticky business - usually best avoided unless one possessed a pressing desire for an exotic holiday from the Clan life.

"I guess I am obligated to go as well," the weapons master grumbled, perhaps with more mock bluster than intended.

Sweetly mocking, Shinkasa Maya responded, "Now then Master Miumasarano, it isn't all that down and dreary. As I recall, from your last visit that strapping young lady - Carmen wasn't it? - took a right fancy to you. She will look forward to seeing her old 'acquaintance' again."

The object of her teasing only barely resisted the temptation to bang his forehead in a most un-ninjerly fashion against the oaken council table. Of course Maya had to choose the most nagging of memories from his last journey to China to harp upon. The lady in question, Ka-mien, was a very pretty woman to be sure - but like all Amazons, once she decided she wanted something, the magenta haired beauty was extremely persistent in striving to attain it. And unfortunately for Kinaro, she had decided then that she wanted the weapons master very much indeed. Her always flaunting him with loving affection - with or without a formal marriage challenge (the Shinkasa/Amazon agreements had seen to that) had been the source of constant humourous speculation for the bereaved Shinkasa master.

That had been more than eight years past, before he had taken Lano as a kohai. Since then both had moved on - Ka-mien marrying one of the village men, and Kinaro…..well Kinaro always had the art of Ninjitsu. Time had dampened the memory considerably, and he was surprised that Maya had remembered it at all. "I will thank you to not mention that affair again, Master. And I will nonetheless go - Iyarasora Lano still is my student."

"Your company will be most appreciated," Kagora hastily interceded, breaking down the potential bickering. "So for the four initiates - Kino, Iyarasora, Nagara and Saotome, as well as three masters - that is a comfortable proportion."

"Excuse me - three masters?"

"Of course", Meyah answered, "I am Ranma's sensei as well as his guardian."

"Yes of course." Guard master Hitoshi's tone was mildly dry. "If that is all settled then we can move onto other matters. I have a proposition to take on five of the white band trainees into the guard - to boost our eastern operations…."

Kinaro sighed heavily, as the current master droned on with the night's business. Yes, it was to be a looong session.

************

'Yamakaro'. According to this topographical geography map that was the name of the mountain bordering Hashima - a smallish town in central Hokkaido. It had taken Ukyou a very long while to even find the place - since Hashima was minute enough to remain unlisted in the major Japanese territorial maps. Even here, there was no record of any village or other population group on the mountain proper. However, it was his only lead, and therefore would have to do. Posting a brief missive to his father which simply stated the finding of Saotome Genma, but the failure to locate his son, the okonomiyaki chef headed for the appropriate rail station to cross to the island of Hokkaido. It would be several days in the least before he could find the dratted village. Hopefully however, this would all be over soon and Harakuna would finally accept his son as proper heir to the Kuonji name. Monetary possessions aside, that was all that Ukyou had left.

Absently, the martial artist considered what the internal battle between conscience, vengeance, and honour would yield when the time came to face Saotome Ranma. For the pigtailed boy's father the result had been a scarring chest wound. Ukyou wondered whether he really could do that again.

***********

The subject of the okonomiyaki chef's whirling thoughts stood several hundred miles away, facing off patiently against his only rival. Here, in the comfort of the ever present blackness of the night, the two stood poised in the centre of the western courtyard. Between themselves, the pair had developed over the years a new training regimen, which they called 'blind fighting'. Hardly the most grandiose of titles, but it served.

No supervisors, no masters, no weapons. Only them, the dark, and the art. Ranma closed his eyes firmly - in such poor light they would only be a hindrance. The moon was yet to rise, and as far as they were from civilisation, there was no light to see with - only to distract. In a similar mode of thought Lano lowered his grey bandanna over the bridge of his nose, obscuring vision. Each waited with endless passivity - waiting for the first move, and the first sound.

The pigtailed ninja suppressed the vicarious thrill which coursed like a hot electric current down the spine and throughout his body. This is what he lived for - Ninjitsu, Mutsabeto Kakuto - the beauty of the combat. Here was the art in its absolutely purest form - two combatants striving against each other in a test of skill, strength and speed - and the victory held no material gain, save for the sake of the Art.

Lano tensed swiftly at the faintest rattle of movement upon hewn stone. It might have been Ranma - but then again it might not. It was too risky to react to half-guessed flittings in the blackness. Forcibly relaxing, he evened his breath and nourished starving lungs. In such silence, even the huff of air passing over a tightened throat was the herald to doom.

Unknown, his opponent stood a mere dozen feet - canted a little to the left, head slowly turning to gauge the change in sound patterns his ears received from shifting angles. Super sensitive hearing was Ranma's advantage - a legacy from his childhood trauma - but it was not enough to win the battle outright - at least not with Lano. The Korean was well practiced making whatever use of the fact that his opponent tended to move first in these confrontations.

So even after establishing where the other teenager lay - and a rough estimation of the direction Lano was facing relative to himself, Ranma waited - tracking the regular pattern of inhale and exhale. And when the Korean was at the greatest point of the latter, the pigtailed ninja made the move.

Not totally unaware of the change in atmosphere, Lano leapt into a reverse spin, trying for a blind sweep with his heel, though his currently empty lungs hampered the flow of his movements. Ranma had timed it well. Feeling the breeze of a high speed limb in close proximity, the pigtailed ninja readjusted the inset angle, and dived through with a two fingered punch with the second knuckles of his index and middle fingers, striking just below the ribcage. In the dark no time was wasted seeking debilitating shiatsu points - simply ruggedly fast impacts.

Lano could not help but gasp at the sharp, and thus very painful jab, which knocked his diaphragm off kilter. Wildly, he rolled to one side, unknowingly saving himself from a finishing elbow to the skull base which subsequently passed harmlessly to the side. He was now in a dangerous position - the combination of the ever-present need to breathe and the fire of the bruising to the muscle required for that task, wrenching an audible series of ragged gulps. With his rival now able to constantly track his position, remaining still would lead to a very brief ending. So deciding, he abandoned all pretense of defence and came rushing.

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in attitude, the pigtailed ninja reacted badly to the rush - only barely managing to deflect the worst of the Korean's level foot strikes. Blindness caused a degree of uncertainty on both combatants' parts - thus it was inevitable that the majority of Lano's attacks fell astray, though similarly Ranma's blocking ability was hampered by the loss of sight.

Seeking to escape the deadlock, the Anything Goes practitioner cleared himself with a wide foot sweep and then leapt high, clipping his rival as he arced gracefully overhead. Lano's response was to merely position himself accordingly, catching the landing teenager in a powerful bear hug totally unfitting for Ninjitsu. The move cost him very heavily though - where the Korean relied upon his greater bulk to absorb the close contact punches from his companion. That split second of forced immobility was all that was required for the finishing move - a slamming chop to the neck which abruptly felled the struggling Ranma.

Unable to stand with his friend's dead weight, Lano rudely dumped the unconscious boy upon the hard stones, before shortly succumbing to the myriad of strikes which had coursed his torso in the last second of battle. Despite the victory, the Korean had taken the worst of the brunt fighting (such was the price for trying to contain a fighter like Ranma) - the compounded results leaving him decidedly woozy.

Forcing fiery breaths through abused lungs, he nonetheless reached into the opening of his cotton shirt and pulled out the ever-faithful notepad. "Victory number two hundred and eighty-nine for me," Lano commented pleasantly to his slumbering friend, adding dryly, "You won one, I won one - my what a productive day."

Still, any win over his rival was to be greatly cherished - their infrequency only boosted the value of each successive mark added to his side of the tally sheet. Rising to his feet, Lano was painfully reminded of the cost of this battle. He was positive that such outcomes could be more easily appreciated if they didn't hurt so damn much.

Ranma continued to remain blissfully unaware of the current scenario. Possessing not the mild healer's skills of his counterpart, the best Lano could offer was to re-arrange his friend's splayed limbs in a more comfortable position and await a self-induced awakening.

Actually that was a plus side to losing most of their matches - since the pigtailed ninja would always be on hand to soothe bruises and cure headaches on both sides. Sighing in his own plight, with only a comatose friend for company, Lano resolved to wait.

**************

Hibiki Ryouga shivered reflexively as he stood at the front balcony of the Hibiki residence. This early into December, and the weather was unusually cold. Still, he was more than well used to enduring the extremities of nature's weather - with such an aimlessly directionless life the bandanna boy led, one quickly grew used to the variance of the outdoors.

A directionless life indeed - that is until a fatefully wondrous day when his path had crossed one Tendo Akane. She had taken pity on Ryouga's ineptitude and tirelessly led him to and from school every day (that is every day when he was available for school and not fallen lost from a midnight trip to the bathroom).

Each morning when the teenager arose in his own bed, Akane would be outside knocking to guide him to Furinkan. And every time he saw her, Ryouga was that much more grateful for her kindness. He knew not why a soul such as himself would deserve such attention - that only increased the generosity to reverent eyes. Touching a hand to his ever present bandannas, the muscled teenager considered the added bonus - the youngest Tendo girl's care had also improved his martial arts skills to an unexpected level beyond his own envisioning.

Akane was a welcome friend to a lonely life. As was to be expected, both the Hibiki mother and father were noticeably absent from the family residence - as they had been for the past fourteen months. Dryly, their son wondered at the God sent miracle that enabled them to stay with each other long enough to fall in love and conceive their child. With only his faithful dog for a sense of constancy (who luckily was able to look after herself for long durations), the welcome intrusion of the long haired Tendo daughter had become a focal point in Ryouga's daily existence.

Yes, Akane was a very good friend - and that was just it - just a friend. And oh did Ryouga dream of a time when she would see him as perhaps something more. Of course, that could only happen after he attained the ability to actually speak coherently of such matters to such a girl - or any girl for that matter (ie. never).

The boy sighed forlornly - even in the happier time of his childhood, life still stank. Returning to reality, he now faced the present issue - How do I get off this balcony?

And within fifteen minutes the eternal lost boy was fulfilling his title to the utmost degree (he was very lost).

***********

"Nggggraaaaarrgh."

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Lano commented pleasantly. "I was starting to get worried that we'd have to summon Master Meyah to wake you up."

The object of his commentary raised an aching head to gaze up at the dimly lit ceiling. During the hours following the battle the Korean had managed to lug his thankfully comparatively light companion back to Meyah's quarters with the minimum of fuss to the other Clan members.

Delicately pressing the sensitively sore area at the nape of his neck, Ranma felt the impact point which had finalized the match. "Kanto's slam point?"

The Korean nodded at the correct deduction, "Yup - it's a good move for strength freaks like myself."

"I'll bet it is," the downed ninja nodded dryly. "Man, I thought you knocked my head off with that last one." He paused, "So how are you feeling?"

"Alright I guess - all things considered." Lano patted his stomach for emphasis - then winced at the action. "That was a pretty savage punch you dished out there - knocking me under the ribs like that."

Suddenly concerned, Ranma leaned forward, ignoring the droning in his own skull. "Do you need any help with that?"

"Naw, save your chi for tomorrow - word has it that the Masters are accelerating our training since we only have a few days until the 'bye-bye for China.'"

"That soon?" Lano somehow always seemed to be the first with the 'word' on everything. Kami knew how he stayed so well informed. Probably from talking to the girls all the time, the pigtailed ninja considered wryly.

"Yeah, well goodnight - and thanks for the fight." The weary Korean stood to return to his own rooms.

"Goodnight Lano." Ranma fervently hoped that a night's worth of sleep would eradicate the aches garnered from this latest fight.

************

"What is that Great grandmother?" the young girl asked inquisitively.

" Japanese, Xian Pu." Her teacher and guardian sternly admonished.

The object of her criticism repeated herself in the designated language - or at least tried to. "Great grandfather…..Wh….Whoo that thing?"

Giving up for the moment, the exasperated elder returned to their native Mandarin dialect, "We'll try again tomorrow child - now as to your question - I am filing away a letter sent to me from a village ally."

Now that peaked her attention, for the Amazons had few friends in the world. Actually, now that she seriously considered it, the purple haired teenager could not recall there being any allies at all. Seeing her heir's intent gaze, Khu Lon wearily continued. "The letter is from the Shinkasa Clan - a 'tribe' of Japanese ninjas who have helped us from time to time. A contingent of them are travelling to our village in a week or two to train under Amazon tutelage." The matriarch was indeed a very well respected member of the council - both for her fighting prowess, and her wisdom - but she was still only human - and a very old and tired one at that. "Now girl, it is late and I am tired. Do not pester me with more questions - you will see in good time."

"Yes great grandmother" Xian Pu stated ritualistically. She accepted the somewhat barbed retort for what it was - a gruff goodnight. Climbing the stairway to her own bedroom, she considered on what had been learnt.

Visitors from abroad as far as her fifteen years of life had been experienced were non-existent, so thus this would a be a most interesting spectacle to observe. Added to that was the prospect that she might test her vaunted skills against martial artists from outside her sphere - indeed outside her country. The teenaged girl was already virtually the unquestioned champion of the unmarried Joketsuzoku members - but now laid before her was the choicest opportunity to further expand the range of her combat experiences, and to match skills with a new foreign fighting style.

Yes, overall this looked to be an enjoyable few weeks. That is, of course, if great grandmother would let her spar with the visitors.

************

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Sorry if this took longer than usual - but it was quite extensive to write. In fact I am nearly finished the next part of the series, so the next delay should be less than this 3.5 weeks. At least chapter 4 came out for Christmas. There's no need to speculate on the future of all our beloved characters - all will come in good time. I'll let my work speak the rest for itself. Stay around for Chapter 5 - foreign lands.

Or email at dojohouse@xoommail.com 

Things to note.

I am well aware that in reality the Japanese do not computate their references by Western letters and numbers (referring to the opening of this chapter).

The chi focusing techniques are the same as those practiced by several Buddhist sects, as a way of attaining meditation focus.

Incidentally, Lano's 'regional' Tae Kwon Do is based on a style described to me by a Korean friend who practices a version of his own. I personally only have first hand knowledge of tae chi (yes, it is actually a martial art - not an exercise) and a smattering of kenjutsu. And I'm not very good at either.

Kanto's slam point is an actual impact zone, roughly 3 to 4 cm behind the ear lobe, at the base of the skull. Hard impacts there can easily stun any human being. Kids, please don't try this at home.