Preamble.

Well, towards the completion of this latest chapter, the emails
were getting decidedly 'hostile', mostly in the trend of, "Where
the hell is the next Chapter??" So for all you out there who have
been chewing your nails in impatience, my apologies for taking so 
long, and hope you enjoy






Way of the Ninjitsu.
 
 
A Fanfiction by Jason Wong.
Inspired by Rumiko Takahashi's 
Ranma 1/2. 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 7 Girl Troubles.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



#	#	#	#	# 
 
To the Clan Shinkasa,

Recently I have received word from my heir, Kuonji Ukyou 
that he was to journey to China in pursuit of a possible lead 
in our search for the members of the Saotome Clan. As far as 
my knowledge informs me, your group does have ties within 
that nation.

To this end I ask that you provide all due protection to my 
son, should he travel in the zones of your jurisdiction. As 
always, the standard fee will have already been transferred 
into your payment account here at Kyoto.

Please inform me of any additional costs incurred for this 
task.
 

Kuonji Harakuna.
 
#	#	#	#	#



Shinkasa Spymaster Misho grinned as she re-folded the neatly 
written note. At least now she could see why the transaction 
sorters down below had seen fit to present this for her personal 
perusal.

Well, it was really in effect, an elementary matter. The last report 
from the China training group had stated, amongst other things, 
that a certain Kuonji Ukyou was residing 'under the responsibility' 
of the Clan members in the Amazon Village. 

Well, there seemed no reason to inform those directly concerned 
about the Kuonji leader's request - if three Clan masters, and four 
of their finest proteges (not to mention the entire warrior 
population of Joketsuzoku) could not protect young Ukyou, well 
then she *couldn't* be protected.

Misho could admit it to herself, that she loved it when 
circumstances were turned into free wealth. Harakuna would be 
certainly receiving his money's worth - and Kuonji money was no 
laughing matter. Indeed, now with the added funds, she could 
approach the council with the proposal to expand their operations 
in..... 


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


Shifting out of the admittedly comfortable pallet which served her 
for a bed, Kuonji Ukyou wearily stretched out the last of the sleep 
induced muscle kinks, methodically retying her ponytail with a 
simple elastic band. As it had been since her arrival, she now 
slept in a room adjoining Shampoo's - thankfully the privileges 
bestowed upon a matriarch included an unusually 
spacious abode. Stepping out onto the freezing floorboards the 
okonomiyaki chef hurriedly hopped over to the dresser, pulling out 
one of the identical chef's robes from the meagre store of clothing. 
Travelling this far had forced the teenager to subsist upon an 
extremely limited array of clothing - though it wasn't as if she had a 
very diverse attiring sense in the while. 

It was one of the few occasions when being a boy held merits. 
Personally the brown haired girl failed utterly to understand the 
fashion fetish so many girls her age seemed to immerse 
themselves in - and in all honesty, magazines, makeup, celebrity pop 
stars, and whatever else set her teeth on edge.

Staring at her current allocation of sleepwear, Ukyou had to smile. 
Since leaving her father nearly a month back, she had only twice 
had the opportunity to sleep indoors, and as such the issue of 
proper bed wear was totally pointless. Thus, as it seemed like she 
would be staying here at Joketsuzoku for a considerable while, 
Shampoo of course had offered her own wardrobe open for her 
new friend's use - but frankly, Ukyou was rather turned off by the 
idea of wearing items suiting to her true gender. 

Which perhaps explained her current dress. Whilst sitting in on her 
conversation with Shampoo, and correctly guessing the 
foundation of his childhood companion's obvious discomfit, 
Ranma had stepped in and presented her with a few of his own 
silken shirts. Loose fitting on his frame, they were suitably large 
enough to comfortably reach down past thigh length on herself.
 
And besides, the decidedly sombre black colouring aside, silk 
was pretty comfy to sleep in.

Throwing that thought aside, the Kuonji heir doffed the shirt, 
automatically reaching for the grey roll of cloth haphazardly coiled 
on the bed stand. She was halfway through the third round of 
wrapping around her ribs before that altogether too familiar pinch 
of suppressed flesh began once more to twinge. 

Sighing in resignation, Ukyou let the bindings loose a little - just a 
little. As Ranma had said before, there was no one to deceive 
here.


***********


Hurriedly patting her warrior's overrobe into place, Shampoo 
vainly attempted to ward off the frown of impatience that was 
marring her pretty face. The fact that it was the worst time of the 
day for her was not helpful. Four days! Four days of tentative, and 
(at least to her perspective) very suggestive suggestions, and still 
nothing other than confused glances, and half-finished incoherent 
sentences of rejection.

She began to wonder how manly her love really was, considering 
his failure to show even a little interest. He was after all, male, and 
a teenager - nothing more should fit the equation. Stepping out 
into the hallway, the purple haired Amazon paused to consider 
where she might have erred.

"Morning honey. It'll take me a while to get used to how *cold* your 
mornings are here." Ukyou shivered for effect at that statement.

Shampoo liked Ukyou. At first she had been friendly merely in the 
hope of cadging useful information about Ranma, but within a day 
it needed no longer to be an act. Together the pair shared the 
same interest in martial arts, cooking, and at least nowadays, an 
easy going outlook to each new day.

"Just wait till summer come, and Shampoo take you around 
mountains surrounding village. Some places out there is too too 
beautiful, and weather always lovely." Despite the pleasing 
memories of her past hikes through the ridges of Bayankala, the 
Amazon continued to frown in musing thought.

"I'd wager my whole bandolier to guess what or rather who you're 
really thinking about Shampoo-chan." Ukyou's eyes twinkled 
merrily. It was almost painfully obvious to everyone what her 
friend's designs upon a certain pigtailed martial artist were aimed 
at.

"Hmph, Shampoo no see spatula girl helping with lack of progress 
with stupid Ranma."

Ukyou's eyes raised in bemusement. That Shampoo even 
ventured to attach such a description to her beloved spoke of 
considerable frustration. "Well sugar, maybe you should consider 
a different approach."

"What would perverted boy/girl know about how to attract men?" 
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she immediately 
regretted it. Almost in the same breath she continued. "Sorry, no 
mean to say that."

Absently adjusting her giant baker's peel she shrugged it off. 
"Actually it's because of that I probably know more about it than 
you do." Sometimes more than she cared to remember - the 
things boys discussed amongst themselves....yeeee. Turning 
back to her friend the brown haired girl winked knowingly, "And I 
know Ranchan too - so you'd better be nice to me or else I won't 
help."

Playfully the Amazon heir bowed low, her forehead almost 
touching the floor. "Shampoo offers humble respect for mighty 
spatula girl."

The pair laughed in unison as they tumbled down the stairs. After 
all, humour aside, breakfast still needed to be fixed.


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


"You know you really don't have to do this Ranma, I can manage 
quite well on my own." Still, Kwai Lien had to admit, the boy 
certainly knew his way about the kitchen.

"No, after all you are hosting me - it's the least I can do." The 
pigtailed ninja didn't particularly enjoy the culinary arts, but then 
again he *really* disliked the feeling of obligation.

"Good morning father!" a cheerily bright voice called, "how 
you....Ranma?" Jumping from the stairway, she practically yanked 
the wooden stirring spoon from the startled boy's grasp. "Ranma 
no should be cooking! That Shampoo's job."

Rather blown away by the forcefulness of her reprimand, the ninja 
trainee backed off, stuttering. "N-no really it's fine. I don't mind."

The purple haired girl turned a hurt look towards the taller boy, 
undeniably kawaii through deep soulful crimson eyes. "Ranma no 
like Shampoo cooking any more?"

And predictably, his resolve and spine melted faster than butter on 
a hot plate. "Aww I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that." Handing over 
the rest of the cooking utensils, Ranma regretfully shambled out of 
the kitchen. 

Before attending to the bubbling pan before her, Shampoo 
paused to gaze at the trim figure making his way to the front door. 
Even when moving lazily, the Shinkasa trainee managed to look 
so very.....graceful, dangerous, predatory, prowling, sensuous.....

The pop as an errant bubble of sauce scattered its contents about 
the counter top snapped the Amazon's attention back to the 
present before her mind wandered down a thesauric listing of 
adjectives.

"Heh honey, less than five minutes after meeting him and you 
already missed a golden opportunity." Ukyou sagely tsked like a 
condescending wise man...err woman.

Like all Amazons, Shampoo didn't take criticism too well. Eyes 
narrowing, she replied, "Shampoo see nothing wrong. Want just to 
please beloved by giving good food. Make Ranma remember she 
also very good cook. And stop talk so high and mighty - like 
Japanese girl know so much more than Shampoo."

Ukyou almost snorted at that. " I may not know much about the 
finer points of socialising sugar, you can take it from personal 
experience that all guys like to feel needed. See, what you 
should've done is ask Ranchan to *help* you with the dishes. It 
would've made him feel wanted, instead of kicking him out on his 
butt like that."

Her friend paused to consider this. "Aiiiiyaahhh...."

"Well, it's a lost opportunity - now then think honey - what else is 
Ranchan good at?" Ukyou really loved this 'know-it-all' status - a 
feeling one easily adjusted to.

Even with less than a week's worth of experience with the 
pigtailed boy, it didn't take long for the Amazon warrior to figure it 
out.


*********


Ever since Kuno's rather infamous proclamation, Akane had not 
been able to help but sense a certain....trepidation in the air of 
Furinkan High. Maybe it was the continuous stares she could feel 
burning on her back, combined with the fact that they were gone 
once she turned around. Or maybe because such behaviour was 
solely the province of the male half of the school.

Still, as Uncle Genma always said, idle thoughts with which one 
could do nothing about were not to distract one from the Art. As 
such, her morning schedule had continued more or less 
unhindered - the run about the local neighbourhood, followed by a 
short sparring session with her sensei, and a long languorous bath 
all before Kasumi had laid down breakfast.

Currently she was immersed with the last of these procedures - 
which also involved fending off errant and decidedly unwanted 
chopsticks from relieving her rice bowl of its contents.

"Mr Saotome, I've said this before you really shouldn't steal 
Akane's food. It's s...so...not nice." Kasumi's expression was 
not exactly what would be called a frown, but it wasn't a smile - so 
that meant definite disapproval. 

"Nonsense, dear Kasumi." The addressed man attempted to 
shrug of the eldest daughter's intent stare whilst simultaneously 
making a pickle transfer. "What with all the time Akane wastes on 
school work we must make every other activity an opportunity for 
training...HAH!" The last was said as he finally succeeded in 
outmanoeuvring his protege's furiously defensive chopsticks. 

The prized pickle was halfway to the cavernous and never ending 
dungeon which he conveniently called his mouth, before Genma 
was struck forcibly by a...feeling.

Now the Saotome patriarch knew from long experience what that 
feeling was, and that to even glance at its source would seal his 
fate. So staunchly, bravely, arm action restarted and continued to 
close the distance between food and mouth. 

But no matter how hard he tried, the journey proved fruitless, as 
*that* twinge increased steadily with every centimetre covered. 
Sighing in resolution to his fate, Genma turned to face the large, 
deep brown and begging eyes that silently implored for justice.

And just as silently, he returned the pilfered pickle back to its 
owner's bowl. "Oh Akane, to use such underhanded and dirty 
tricks to torment the weaknesses of your sensei." Although the 
said sensei knew that no amount of bemoaning was going to get 
that pickle back.

Immediately offloading her ultra cute puppy dog look, Akane 
brightly answered, "Thanks Uncle Genma." And promptly 
devoured the morsel. She had learnt quickly from Nabiki, that their 
house guest had a definite and very exploitable foible. Saotome 
Genma could never *never* say no to the pleading look of a girl. 
Especially if she were cute and/or about to cry.

They said it was a distinctive trait that was specific throughout the 
line of Saotome males.


**********


"Awwwww geez don't look at me like that," Ranma moaned in 
exasperation.

Of course that totally failed to stop the surge of guilt, as a certain 
lavender haired girl continued to plead, her eyes nearly shining 
with moisture as she stood with hands clasped in an admittedly 
'extremely very' kawaii pose. 

"Ranma promise Shampoo he teach her moves he use to defeat 
her." The pigtailed ninja trainee had said nothing of the sort - but in 
his current frustration Ranma was in no condition to recall that 
minor detail. "Ranma also say he never break promises," she 
added petulantly, pouting in disappointment. 

She took that as a given (he hadn't said that either). 

"Alright, ALRIGHT!" He waved his hands about wildly, "Just stop 
doing that. Tell you what, I have another hour break in the 
afternoon - which I *was* going to use to spend time with the others. 
But we'll take the time then okay?"

His annoyance at her obvious tactics was placated somewhat by 
the radiance of her joyful smile. Mission accomplished for the 
moment, Shampoo was about to perform her customary farewell 
and instantaneous disappearance, before hearing his call.

"Shampoo, could ya wait for a moment?" 

It was unusual for the pigtailed trainee to be the one requesting 
more time together, so the Amazon warrior readily agreed - great 
grandmother would be more than understanding.
 
"I've been here for a few days, and in that time it must have 
happened, say, twenty or thirty times? - so it's pretty hard not to 
notice." He paused to consider the best method of approach. 
Never one for diplomacy, he resigned himself to the direct. 
"Err....what's the deal with Mousse?"

It was a curious property, that Shampoo could be even cuter when 
she frowned. "Mouse is too too annoying pest, constantly bug 
Shampoo because she no want marry him."

"From the way he....um, behaves, it looked like you two may 
have....you know dated once but had a big fight or something?" At 
least it looked that way - the raven-haired Amazon male seemed 
to take it for granted that she would come to love him 'again'.

The girl paled a little at that thought. "Bleah. Shampoo never *never* 
have feelings for Mousse. He just stupid and too stubborn to 
accept reality that Shampoo no want love him." As if to punctuate 
the statement, she blinked doe-eyed at her true chosen mate. 
"Shampoo already decide who she want share love with."

"Yeeahh right." The ninja trainee bumbled off uncomfortably. "So 
he's been...'harassing' you all this time?"

Her face scrunched a little as she processed that. "Not sure what 
middle word means - but it sound right."

Ranma waved off the explanation. "That oughta do - thanks a lot 
Shampoo, I was just curious is all."

Without any reservation she turned, and leaning forwards, lightly 
kissed him on the left cheek. "Thank you Ranma, is good to know 
you think about Shampoo, but now she have need go now for 
sword practice with great grandmother. Bai bai now Ranma!" And 
with that she was bouncing off, very nearly bowling over Lano as 
he rounded the corner. "Hello friend of Ranma!" she called brightly 
as she passed. The Korean's eyes narrowed a little - that was the 
second time she had addressed him like that. It seemed that the 
beautiful babe of Joketsuzoku took a positive delight in referring 
to everything in terms of 'Ranma.'

The said teenager continued to stare after the Amazon's passage, 
fingers lightly pressed against his cheek. It had only been a light 
peck - a friend's greeting, but still.... 

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything." The fellow trainee's words broke 
his reverie. "How is Shampoo today?"

"Dunno," the Shinkasa heir gruffly answered. "Why don't you ask 
her yourself?" His tone clearly signalled a termination of the 
matter.

Ignoring the veiled warning, Lano continued cheerfully, "You know - 
I think it's in my best interests to stay close to you when we're out 
of the House. That way I don't even have to bother with girl-hunting 
- they'll just come to me...or rather you - but that's close enough." 
Seemingly unaware of the scathing glare that produced, he 
added, "I never thought the avid loner Saotome Ranma would turn 
out to be a bigger playboy than me." He glanced at his companion 
in mock-jealousy, "And you know what irks me the most? You 
don't even have to *try*. Now that lovely Ukyou....under all that 
tomboy dressing I'll swear my three years of experience that 
there's a pretty body just waiting to be revealed - not so pretty as 
my Shampoo - but still....."

"You stay away from Ucchan." Ranma's half smile took some of 
the bite out of the threat. "I won't have you stringing her along like 
you do with the rest of your harem back home." In truth the 
pigtailed teenager had little fear of his Korean friend's wily ways - 
above else Lano was *always* honourable, and had not once (at 
least to Ranma's knowledge) taken any...physical advantage of 
his wavy good looks, and admittedly attractive physique - to a 
point that is.

And of course, Lano couldn't resist jumping onto the opening. "Oh 
I wouldn't dream of trying to steal away your sweet precious Uc-*chan*. 
And besides," Here he did an *extremely* very bad imitation 
of a girl's swoon, "She would never leave her darling Ran*chan*, oh 
gracious Gods, my how unthinkable!"

There was a tense silence. "Shaddup Lano."

*Gotcha again.* Ranma was just too easy to nettle. Still, for the 
benefit of general disposition, the Korean paused to consider a 
new topic. "So, how are the hands holding up?" Unfortunately, or 
fortunately, depending from whose perspective, Amaguriken 
training was still a daily practice for all. 

"Not bad." Ranma, recovering quickly from his sour mood, tapped 
a lightly bandaged palm. "I'm getting used to it - either that or my 
senses have been utterly annihilated by the heat." He noted 
ambiently that the brown haired boy was carrying his combat bo 
staff today - capped on each end with steel tapering to blunt 
points. The Korean had used that particular weapon only once 
before in training, after having first obtained it several years ago. 
In that unsupervised sparring duel, Ranma's jaw had been literally 
dislocated by a poorly avoided swipe.

Consequently Lano had safely committed that staff to long-term 
storage.

Discarding the rather painful memory, the pigtailed ninja 
continued, "So where is the rest of our bunch?"

Absently twirling the oaken rod, Lano shrugged non-committedly. 
Your mother is off with one of the village healers, presumably 
brushing up on her herbal skills. Kuranami and Daikoto are in 
training with your long lost friend, and as for Master Kagora and 
Kinaro? Well they're off with the elders doing whatever it is that 
ultra skilled warriors do in their spare time. In fact I came here to 
get you. Kuranami Sempai wanted to talk with you."

Scratching at his pigtail, Ranma gestured for his friend to lead the 
way. "Well then. Let's not keep them waiting."


***********


Not one hundred metres away, another raven haired teenager was 
standing in the shadow of the grand meeting hall, quietly seething. 
The now dull ache down below was an ever-present reminder of 
his new nemesis - the one who dared to even loiter within touching 
distance of his Xian Pu, *his* Xian Pu dammit. 

It was only the direct ban placed by that annoying old bat of a 
matriarch, forbidding him to come within twenty metres of that 
scum outsider for five days, that stopped Mousse from making 
good with his blades right there and then. And as if to rub in the 
salt, Saotome had been making use of the ruling by hanging ever 
close to the purple-haired beauty during his spare time, and thus 
preventing the Hidden Weapons Master from wooing his bride to 
be.

Thrice already in the past three days, the foreign devil had directly 
interposed when Mousse had attempted to talk to Shampoo - it 
was pure vindictiveness that Saotome would interfere with a 
budding love relationship.

The fact that his beloved seemed to take a positive delight in 
constantly fawning over the worthless ninja was a severe grate 
upon already sorely tested nerves.

No, the bastard had set the standards of their fighting from the 
moment he had made that utterly dishonourable move - and the 
blinded Amazon was determined to follow up (or rather down) in 
equal stead. Not that he was particularly concerned about honour 
(in regards to his love, *anything* would be used if it garnered the 
slightest possibility of reaching his goal), but at least there would 
be no hesitation here. If Saotome Ranma resorted to playing 
below the belt, then he was in for an unpleasant surprise. For 
nobody could outsmart the Master of Hidden Weapons when it 
came to secrecy, underhandedness, and concealment. 

Actually the ban was a mixed blessing - at least it gave Mousse 
time to recover. None in his family had been particularly happy 
about his defeat, especially the methods involved, but against his 
expectations nothing had been done to rectify the travesty.

That *must* have been the old ghoul's doing.


***********


Within the district of Nerima Ward, a now familiar sight to the 
locals was the passage of a certain Anything Goes heir as she 
made her way by the canal - the same route every day which 
would in time lead to school. What was perhaps to be considered 
unique about this seemingly innocent sight was the fact that Tendo 
Akane chose to jog just about as close to the canal as one could 
be without swimming in it - that is, along the wire fencing that had 
been built for that very preventative purpose.

Of course she had been doing this for years, but it hadn't really 
become a serious issue until her first year at junior high school, 
when word had quickly spread about a rather kawaii girl (even at 
her tender age of twelve there were enough perverts at Furinkan 
who *liked* that sort of thing) who could be seen frequenting the 
streets at a continuous altitude of seven feet, wearing a standard 
fuku skirt.

It had taken only one day of dodging hentai's with their hentai 
imaginations, armed with a barrage of cameras to take hentai 
pictures before Akane had taken to wearing lycra cycling gym 
shorts, and a slightly longer skirt over the top to cover them up. 

And thus, the novelty had quickly died off. There was no fun in 
catching a glimpse of totally concealed thighs, no matter how 
shapely, especially when one could get a much better view of the 
girls in gym practice.

Pirouetting gracefully into a wide double somersault, Akane 
abruptly vacated her elevated pathway, turning almost 
automatically for a slighter lesser used thoroughfare. As she had 
done so for the past three months' worth of school days, the 
Anything Goes heir bounded across the street and up to the 
second house along the block - a spacious if rather poorly tended 
two storey building of off-white walls and faded terracotta red 
roofing.

The oftime home of Hibiki Ryouga - well, at least if the place 
where he was more likely to be found than anywhere else in the 
world could be called such.

And as it was every school day, a familiar broad shouldered, 
solidly built teenager was nervously fiddling with his hands as he 
anxiously waited on the front porch - the final frontier between lost 
and found.

Akane couldn't resist a good-natured laugh as she noticed that 
one of his hands still continued to grip the red dyed rope, marking 
a path disappearing into the interior of the abode. Upon 
discovering his rather unique....disability early on in their 
friendship, she had devised a scheme to make daily activity at 
least manageable. 

It was so simple, the youngest Tendo couldn't help but look 
towards herself with pride at the ingenuity of the concept. The pair 
had spent the greater part of an afternoon a while back, rigorously 
mapping out every well used route in the large abode - well 
actually that part was mostly Akane's work - Ryouga was confined 
to sitting in a chair and verbally listing all the rooms he 'thought' 
constituted his own house.

That being done in an hour or so (the Anything Goes heir couldn't 
believe how frustrating seemingly innocent tasks could be), the 
pair had systematically lined the common pathways with thickly 
woven string - taped to the walls at elbow level so that the eternally 
lost boy would be able to make his way without ever losing contact 
with the precious lines. As an added bonus, the various networks 
were colour coded - blue for the kitchen, green for the bathroom, 
and a very alarmingly bright red for the exits.

Aside from the rather galling humiliation of having to continually 
sort himself out on the ropes like a bewildered fly on a spider's 
web, Ryouga had to grudgingly admit that the concept *had* 
effectively solved his....weakness within the confines of the Hibiki 
family residence. 

Of course, the proud smile which had beamed across Akane's 
face had helped in the appreciation considerably.

"Hi Ryouga, can we get going now?" The cheery request, ripped 
the bandanna boy's attention back to the vision of perfection 
curiously waving a hand before his eyes. 

"Ah yeah...he heh we can...um...er" Up till now he had never 
realised how interesting the tops of his shoes could be.
 
Sighing in fond impatience, Akane forcibly grabbed his hand in a 
firm hold. "Com'on now, we're going to be late."

Left breathless by the physical contact, the lost boy had neither the 
strength nor the will to protest.


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


And back in the vast expanse controlled by the Joketsuzoku, the 
Shinkasa guard members were casually practicing at archery, 
when the two trainees finally arrived. On closer inspection, Ranma 
was curiously surprised to discover that it was actually Ukyou who 
held the crossbow - shakily attempting to draw a bead upon the 
distant tree stump serving as the target.

The girl herself shifted uncomfortably as she tried to accomplish 
the theoretically simplistic task of steadying the single vertical 
aiming wire in the correct position for the three seconds required 
to release the bolt. If only the damn contraption didn’t move about 
so much.

With the faintest of clicks, the bow snapped violently, jerking its 
user with the sudden momentum. The instant's whistling followed 
by the dull thunk as bolt head bit earth signalled a rather dismal 
failure to hit the stump. Sighing, Ukyou handed the crossbow back 
to Daikoto to reload. She was patently glad that her expertise was 
in hand to hand weaponry.

Standing bemusedly behind his friend, Ranma called out 
languidly, "Heya Uccha....."

"YAAHHhhhh!!" Stumbling into an ungainly fighter's crouch, Ukyo 
whirled about, her long hair trailing in a cascading arc. 
Breathlessly, she huffed, "Goddammit Ranma don't DO that!"

"What? Do what?" Confused, the Shinkasa trainee held his hands 
up placatingly. 

Leaning towards the girl conspiratorially, Lano stage whispered, 
"Don't worry, you get used to it after a while."

"Used to what?" Like most natural human beings, Ranma sorely 
disliked being left out of the loop.

Daikoto was almost scoffing at the pigtailed boy's apparent 
naivety. "Oh come off it, you know you scared the crap out of her, 
sneaking around in your damn twinkle toed hush hush 'Nobody 
can hear me' walk."

"Nobody ever complained about that before."

Smirking, Lano countered with, "That's cause all the other trainees 
back at Yamakaro were too scared of you to complain."

Ranma frowned at that. He never wanted to be seen as some sort 
of bully. His consternation was short lived however, as Kuranami 
deftly inserted herself into the argument. "In any case I asked you 
over here to see if you had time for that demonstration of the 
Catfist you promised us back on the road."

Eyes rising heavenwards as if beseeching the Gods for 
enlightenment, Ranma sighed wearily. *Another promise?* "Alright 
Alright!" He paused in sheepish consideration after that. "Uhhh, 
what do you want me to do?"

After all the small time discussion she had been having with the 
Shinkasa guard members about her Ranchan's 'legendary' but 
little known martial arts technique, Ukyou could not help but feel a 
little of an...anti-climax. "Well Ranchan, it would be nice if you can, 
like, call out the technique - say over there." She pointed in the 
general direction of an innocent looking rock pile.

Scratching the back of his head uncomfortably, his reply was a 
mumbled, "I...It doesn't work like that Ucchan. I don't fire off the 
Nekoken like some sorta chi bolt. It's....it's more like a new way 
of fighting." He sighed again in resignation, "And in truth I've never 
really practiced much with it - it's also not the sort of thing you can 
train with." Looking towards the one of the larger boulders, he 
visibly brightened as an idea came forth.

The silent audience observed curiously as the ninja trainee 
stepped over to one of the smoother faces of the hefty basalt 
stone, delicately pointing a single index finger less than ten 
centimetres from the worn surface. Closing his eyes, he took a 
single, deep breath before beginning. 

At first Ukyou began to wonder if this was some preparatory kata, 
for the sight of Ranma diddling the lone outstretched finger in 
several long random strokes - not once coming into contact with 
the stone - was hardly the stuff of ultimate techniques. Lano on the 
other hand smirked amusedly at the obvious disinterest displayed 
by the others - he being the only other soul Ranma had ever shown 
this particular trick to.

After several seconds of gesturing, tracing a pattern only he knew, 
the pigtailed trainee arose from his crouch, proudly sweeping his 
hand across...across a totally unchanged and admittedly rather 
boring lump of rock.

"That's all?"

Without even acknowledging the query, he drew his foot back, and 
dealt a swift kick. And to universal amazement (save one smirking 
Korean and the resident Catfist master) there was a shower of 
fine dust, which after clearing, revealed what took semblance to 
some very badly written kanji.

# Ucchan #

The shocked silence that followed was palpable in its intensity, 
though shortly destroyed by Lano's rather inane comment.

"Boy you are *such* a closet show-off."

"Shaddup Lano."

And as for the girl, whose name would be forever inscribed upon 
an inconspicuous basalt rock lying in a training field in the valley of 
the Joketsuzoku - well, the morning was getting a little too surreal 
for her liking. It was her longtime friend's next comment which 
brought her back to the present.

"Of course, worse could easily be done to an opponent - which is 
why I am forbidden to do just that."

Ukyou barely noticed when a certain Korean sidled up to her side, 
giving her a not-so-surreptitious nudge. "Bet you're mighty glad 
you *didn't* have to finish off that duel hey?"

"Hey there, that's enough Lano."

Sniggering good-naturedly, Kinaro's heir ignored the demand, 
employing the disarmingly lopsided smile which had fettered a 
considerable number of the girls back in Japan. "After all, it would 
have been a shame to see such a cute girl all cut up by cat-boy's 
ministrations over there." Absorbed in further charming the chef's 
embarrassed blush, he failed to take note as Ranma's features 
rapidly darkened. Theatrically, Lano leaned over Ukyou as if 
shielding her from an assailant, adding, "We'd all better watch out, 
an angry Ranma might turn you into a scratching post."

"ENOUGH Lano!" everyone present jumped reflexively at the 
unexpected shout. Shooting a viciously harsh glare, the pigtailed 
trainee's voice dropped down to a choked whisper. Just...just shut 
up." With no pretence at stealth, he stormed off, the others quickly 
keeping a wide berth. 

Stunned by the display from his usually reticent companion, Lano 
was slow to mend the rift, "H-hey now man, it was just a joke. Hey 
wait!" The pigtailed trainee didn't even pause to take note, quickly 
disappearing around the route of their arrival.

Clearly aware that he had overstepped an invisible line, the 
muscle bound trainee offered an apologetic look to the remaining 
three. "I'd....I'd better go and check up on him." Guiltily, he set 
himself jogging off to give chase.

"Now I wander what that was all about?" Daikoto commented 
mildly. 


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


Akane was still jogging, her hand entwined with her friend's (she 
had learnt the folly of trying otherwise on the first day) before she 
rounded upon the last straight leg of the journey...and stopped. 
Still mesmerised by the firm softness of her grasp, Ryouga never 
noticed, and came within a hairsbreadth of bashing into his love.

But the youngest Tendo's eyes were solely devoted to the front. 
Visible even at this distance was a noticeably large crowd of 
boys, aimlessly milling about the yard. That wasn't particularly 
unusual - however the fact that most were dressed in almost 
anything *except* the standard uniform was. It seemed that for today 
at least, sporting equipment was the taboo choice of clothing.

Failing to observe her friend struggling to keep his own attention 
(and thus direction of travel) upon Furinkan's gates, Akane 
continued with her easy loping jog, though this time eyes were 
alert and attentive - especially so when, upon catching sight of her 
approach, an unknown in the crowd called out, "There she is!"

As one, the initially random group seemed to tighten itself up and 
form a roughly semi-circular band. 

Stepping, up to the gate, Akane tensed visibly. "Okay, now what is 
all...."

Her query was interrupted by a heartfelt chorus of 
"CHARGGGGEEEE!!!!!"


**********


"Look Ranma, I'm really sorry about that - I know I got carried away 
a little there."

The Shinkasa heir did not look up from his slumped position 
against a comfortable section of the council wall. Thus his reply 
was so muffled, Lano had to lean forward to comprehend. "I 
shouldn't have blown up like that - it is ill befitting of a ninja, and ill-
suited to my nature."

Taking the free space, next to his companion, Lano queried 
conversationally, "Care to talk about it?"

"No, not really." But within the same breath he added, almost in a 
rush, "I shouldn't have done what I did to Ucchan back then."

The Korean's eyes rose in surprise, "What, the duel? You still 
thinking about that? I thought Ukyou forgave you for that 
misunderstanding ages ago."

Batting his hand against the damp earth, Ranma shook his head 
furiously, "That doesn't matter. It doesn't excuse my...rashness. I 
don't even care if Master Kagora accepts it either - it's what *I* feel 
about it." Sighing, the teenager slouched further. 

"You're making a big deal out of nothing. I know you - you would 
never have done anything serious to her, whether she was friend 
or foe." Genially, he slapped the slouching boy on the back.

Looking up, Ranma turned to his friend, "You should've seen her 
eyes. She was really frightened...I mean really. I could see it. She 
thought I was going to *hurt* her." Rubbing his eyes, he continued, "I 
didn't think anything of it at the time - after all, that's what we've all 
been trained to do in the interrogation lessons - but dammit she 
was my friend. Not to mention it goes against how I was raised by 
my....my real parents. Wonder how Mom and Pops would see 
me now."

"Can't really help you there Ranma - we've never really talked 
about your past now have we?" Studying the fields before them, 
Lano took note of the purposely approaching figure. "Well, if you 
have anything to say to your Ucchan, best to prepare yourself, 
'cause she's coming over."

The okonomiyaki chef herself watched as Ranma's friend picked 
himself up from the ground, and began making his way in her 
direction. As they passed, the Korean turned his head briefly. 
"Talk to him - he needs to let a few things off his chest - and he 
can't tell me." Gone was the flirtatiously suave demeanour, but 
before Ukyou could further question, he was already loping 
towards the training commons.

Shrugging, the Kuonji heir silently sat down, taking Lano's 
previously occupied space. For a while the pair sat in interminable 
silence, before she broke it.

"Soo....care to talk about it?"

Ranma almost laughed at the duplicate request, though somehow 
the effect was different with Ucchan. He hesitated briefly before 
beginning. "What do you think of me?"

She blinked at the unexpected question. "Honestly?"

"No, I mean dishonestly." Ranma responded exasperatedly. "Of 
*course* I'd like an honest answer."

The girl paused to consider. "Well I have to admit, at first you 
kinda scared me a little."

"Yeah, I thought it would be something like that," he murmured 
sullenly.

"No it's not like that." She hastened to elaborate. "I mean, I came 
all the way here with the expectation of beating the living crap out 
of you - and then...then...you brushed me off like I wasn't even 
there. I never expected such a...such a challenge." Titling her 
head in a somewhat irked smile, she added. "Ya know - if it was 
anyone else I'd be *really* pissed off at that - all those years training 
for nothing....." She trailed off in reminiscence.

Giving her e friendly push, he said, "Don't discredit your efforts - 
I'm sure you'd give many of the warriors here a run for their 
money."

Ukyou stared at her companion quizzically. "So is that what 
bothers you? That you beat the crap out of me? We've been 
through this before."

"Yeah, Lano said the same thing - no it wasn't just that." Shaking 
his head resignedly, he made as if stand up. "I'd rather not talk 
about it anyway."

Firmly holding onto his arm she forced him to sit. "Is that true? Or 
would you rather not talk about it to *me*?" The chef made no further 
effort to stall her companion, and for long minutes, there was a 
patient silence.

She was beginning to worry that the story would indeed have to 
wait for another time before suddenly, he blurted, "The training 
started when I was seven."

She said nothing, merely waiting his continuance.

"The principle was fairly simple, in practice that is." He looked at 
her wryly, "Tie the trainee up, paste him with fish parts, sauce, 
sausages, anything seafoodish. Then throw him into a pit of cats."

His expression became haunted, awash with a contorted grimace 
that entirely shocked the young girl - it was unlike anything she had 
ever seen on her friend neither then nor now. But just as rapidly as 
its arrival, so to did he relax once more. Turning his face to her, he 
slowly brought a finger to point out an almost invisible line of 
marginally paler skin running across his eyebrow. "They gave me 
this." Slowly the finger descended, over his now closed eyelid then 
down to his cheek - tracing that unbroken line. "My eyes were 
closed at the time, but they still cut through the skin, grazing the 
surface." Crystal blue eyes opened once more, pinning her to the 
wall with their distant, almost absent voidness.

"They're other marks, but that is the one I remember the most."

Unthinkingly she wrapped a conciliatory arm about the taller boy, 
still silent.

"I hated it. I....*hated* it. But Pops - my father, said it was for the 
art, that I needed to do this to prove myself worthy to be his heir. So I 
let him tie me up again when the bait ran out, put more of the food 
on me, throw me in again. And again. And again." He gave her a 
bitter half-glance. "I think on some unconscious level I wanted, no 
*needed* to do this - not just for him, but to prove to myself I was 
good enough." He smiled gratefully at the affectionate squeeze 
she gave him. This was what he liked about her that he could 
never find in anyone else. His Ucchan only listened, never judged, 
never commented.....

"Within a week I had lost my mind. From then on if I ever saw a cat 
I was to go mad and pretend to be one. And that was when Master 
Meyah found me." He made as if to finish, placing hands flat 
against the soil.

The long disquiet that followed was broken by the chef's gentle 
prod. "There's more." 

Ranma said nothing, but his half-raised eyebrows queried the 
origin of her presumption. Smiling fondly she answered his 
unspoken question. "I know you Ranchan, or at least I did. When 
you're really finished you walk around, or scratch yourself - or 
something. Anyhow - keep talking."

"Heh", he gifted her with a strange glance before continuing. 
"Anyhow....anyhow I...I had thought the disease was bad 
enough - the cure...." the ninja's voice died off into a hoarse 
whisper, "...my God the cure was worth dying to avoid."

Ukyou blinked in shock at the extremity in his words. "Com'on 
Ranchan - y-you're not serious." Oh but she could see very well 
how serious he was.

Pulling himself out of her grasp, Ranma ran his fingers, fingers 
honed to kill, raggedly through his hair, now sweaty from dark 
memories. "I could never make you understand, and I'm glad - so 
very glad." The blue eyes had emptied now, vacant of the positive 
light of life that had come to define Saotome Ranma.

Ukyou could only watch in morbid curiosity. This was a Ranchan 
she had *never* seen, much less expected. Almost pleading, and 
unknowingly following his tone of voice, she whispered, "Tell me."

Thank the Gods, but the life had returned once more. Mouth 
curving into a bitter imitation of a smile, he murmured, "There's not 
much to tell. The pain, the madness is gone - gone forever. But the 
memories live on." He smirked ironically, "I almost sound poetic 
don't I?"

Ignoring the spate of humour, the chef merely pressed on. "What 
did they do to you, honey?"

The ninja trainee cocked his head, as if in consideration. "Do you 
know that old saying - what is it? - *'face your fears head on'*?" 

She nodded mutely, before realisation struck her. "They...they 
didn't like...throw you into another pit full of...."

'Not quite," he hastily interrupted. "No - you don't treat the disease 
by applying more of it. The Nekoken is a disease of the mind - so 
it is to the mind went the cure." Observing her puzzled look, he 
continued. "They...procured priests to take over my mind, and 
flood, simply flood it with cats."

"Kami-sama."

"They wouldn't let me escape - madness is a blessing, 
there...there at least you don't have to think, you don't have to be 
*aware* of them." He quietly toyed with the damp earth, ignoring the 
stains building under his fingernails. "I'm not sure about the 
mechanics of the works performed that day - I'd have to ask the 
Clan Loremaster, but from my angle, all I saw were cats - big, 
black scary panthers. I tried to get away, but I was never fast 
enough. Sounds like a kid's nightmare eh?" He tried to laugh.

"No it doesn't." Her unending stare brooked no room for 
contradiction. "Keep going Ranchan."

"So Mum, Master Meyah that is, told me, I went catatonic - is that 
the word? - anyhow I kinda lost reception to the outside world after 
the first day."

"*Day?* How long did it take?"

"Fifteen days, seven hours, and ten minutes."

Ukyou visibly blanched, more so at the return of that utterly dead 
voice. "How...how did you survive?"

"I survived not out of choice - only because there was no other 
alternative given. I couldn't run, I couldn't hide, I couldn't...die."

"Hey there now Ranchan, snap out of it!" The okonomiyaki chef 
desperately shook her companion, almost fearing that he might 
still somehow be considering that option.

Jolted free from the daze, the boy seemed to rise out of his slump. 
He grinned, this time a genuine show of humour. "Calm down 
Ucchan. Geez I didn't mean to scare you." He nudged her playfully 
as if to convince her of his stability. "Like I said the hurt is gone, 
it's just memories now."

"You sure, sugar?"

He couldn't deny those pleading hazel-brown eyes. "Sure, I'm sure 
- you know me Ucchan. Nothing beats Saotome Ranma!" He 
thumped his chest in a mock display of mighty posturing.

She didn't join him in the lighter attitude. "Just remember, if you 
ever need to talk some more, I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, that's good." He absently rubbed the ever-present pigtail 
hanging down his back. "You know in all these years I've never told 
anyone all this? Not even Lano." He shrugged unknowingly. "I don't 
know, Lano's a great friend - he was there with me throughout the 
years and I'd trust more than my life to him - but....we never talked 
on that kinda level. You know what I mean?"

"I think so." The uncertainty underlined her tone. 

"I mean, when I talk to him, it's always, like, casual - we're never 
that serious about anything, or at least most of the time - keeps 
things happy." His lips upturned briefly. "The idiot always knows 
how to crack a joke that's for sure." Standing up, Ranma casually 
dusted off his jet trousers. "Anyway, I have to get going. Duty calls 
once more, and Elder Cologne will bash my head in if I'm late. 
Talk to you later okay?" He offered his hand to help her up.

"Sure thing." She took the hand, and hoisted herself to a standing 
position. "See you later Ranchan."

"Yeah, see ya." He turned to leave, before adding, "Ucchan?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. I really mean it."

She smiled one last time. "Anytime - now get going - I like your 
head the way it is - unbashed."


**********


Far away, across the expanse of a sea, another, albeit slightly 
older teenager warrior was making his purposeful way (for he was 
a very purposeful person) out through the iron gates of Furinkan 
High, over the walkway spanning the canal, and across to a pre-
determined meeting spot - one of the few local suburban parks to 
be found in outer Tokyo.

"Sasuke! Thou snivelling gerbilled excuse for a servant. Where 
doth lie thine sorry hide?"

"H-here Master Kuno!" Miraculously, the errant shadow of a public 
waste bin materialised into the diminutive form of the Kuno 
family's loyal ninja.

Without a word, the master samurai warrior held out an open 
hand, in the clear expectation that its current emptiness would be 
shortly remedied. He wasn't disappointed as Sasuke hastily 
brought forth a ruffled but orderly sheaf of papers. "The listings are 
here as you ordered."

For a brief while the park was void of noise whilst the elder Kuno 
perused the contents within, whilst his ever-supplicant servant 
hovered nearby, awaiting the verdict.

"Zounds and damnation!" Tatewaki pointedly ignore the various 
stares of curiosity which arose from his patently vocal 
exclamation. "Sasuke thou art the pinnacle of uselessness." 
Drawing his arm back he hurled the papers directly into the rather 
contrite visage of the little ninja. "Did I not ask for *true* warriors, 
pure warriors who lived and died by the mighty sword? What are 
these?"

"They're the b-best I could find Master - see..." he tentatively 
pointed at one of the references, now lying in a scattered array 
upon the grass. "That one there claims twenty years of pure kendo 
- he holds fourteen international...."

"Amateurs!" The wrathful shout of the kendoist dispelled any 
further comment. "How can I learn from one who would prostitute 
his skills for money, fame and farcical advertisement? Never, 
pitiful worm, never mock the ideals of a true man of the sword by 
presuming to associate these....these mercenaries with our 
prestigious class."

The poor servant was hopelessly penitent, bowing in repeated 
ground wiping prostrations. Totally ignoring of the effort, Tatewaki 
was immersed in the woes of his own plight. For all his failings, 
Sarugakure Sasuke did admittedly work to his utmost (as 
minuscule as that might have been). If he was unable to find a 
proper tutor to perfect the near infallible blade skills of the mighty 
Shooting Star of Furinkan High, then there was the distinct 
possibility that such a swordmaster might be non-existent.

Which, he considered was hardly that surprising - after all, taken 
realistically, who out there in the world could possibly best Kuno 
Tatewaki, rising star of.....

The said teenager's title exposition was aborted at the sight of 
a...nay it couldn't be.


***********


It was an oftime frequent occurrence that the wares of the local 
open market of Nerima would attract the interest of those from 
beyond the Ward's small borders. After all, given the diverse array 
of clientele that inhabited the somewhat notorious area, it was not 
unexpected that the various emporiums would cater to more 
'unique' tastes.

It was for such tastes that Saotome Nodoka, lone female member 
of the prestigious Saotome clan made the rather tedious journey 
from her own Ward to this one. As homely as Juuban was, it 
simply did not provide for the needs of a martial artist - unlike 
Nerima, where today of all days a discount sale of raw training 
materials had been widely advertised.

Gently re-shifting the cloth wrap bundle currently hanging from her 
shoulder into a less chafing position, Nodoka bent down to peer at 
a finely crafted generic sword sheath of grey leather and silver. 
Hardly functional - but it would make a fine ornament to hang 
over....

"For precious minutes I was astounded by the sheer 
extraordinariness of this sight. But lo I shouldst be accustomed to 
the miraculous...." 

Suddenly realising that the oration was in fact directed towards 
herself, the Saotome matriarch politely turned to face the speaker 
- who turned out to be a finely dressed young man, and rather 
distinguishingly handsome at that. 

"...for as one of the divinely god-sent is it not heaven's duty to 
care for its...."

A nice boy, but perhaps angled a little to much towards the 
archaics? Well, Nodoka was nothing if not a traditional lady, and 
he *was* very well spoken.
 
"...own? Allow me to introduce myself, fair lady. Mine name, 
awarded to me at birth is Kuno Tatewaki - though my peers 
humbly know me as the Shooting Star, rising champion of 
Furinkan High's world renown Kendo Club". And to finish off his 
mouthful of diction, the said teenager bowed fully from the waist - 
perfect to decorum to the very end.

Giving the benefit of a few seconds to ensure that the curious 
young man was quite finished - Nodoka replied simply. "It is a 
pleasure to meet you Tatewaki, I am known by *my* peers..." there 
was the absolute barest of smirks, which nobody (including the 
smirker) noticed, "...as Saotome Nodoka. Now, what can I do for 
a fine gentleman such as yourself?"

Kuno's eyes widened in awe. A sword mistress, *and* a sage of 
ceremonies - for she had followed form of greetings to the very 
letter. Truly the only one who could truly sympathise with his 
mission in life - Oh! the Gods were smiling heartily upon the noble 
Tatewaki! Any doubt that may have harboured residence in his 
mind were completely eradicated, and following that impulse, he 
dived straight into the business end of the matter. "Fair Saotome-
san, as a fellow wielder of the blade it was fey impossible for me 
to not to notice that you, a shining icon amongst the many, do 
proudly bear the ultimate symbol of your superiority - the mighty 
katana. This alone is sufficient to...."

*All very nice and complimentary*, The addressed lady considered, 
*but I do wish he would get on to the subject.*

"...inform me that you alone possess the virtues which may 
satisfy my desperate needs."

Nodoka blinked at that. Did he just make a pass at her? 

"I implore you....nay I *beg* you. Spare me some of your valuable 
time to tutor me, guide me down the road of perfection - that I may 
realise my destiny as an unsurpassed swordsman the world has 
yet to experience." Kuno was near purple with dramatic 
desperation.

She took quite a few long moments to digest and process the 
information. "Soo....am I correct in assuming that you are asking 
for lessons in the katana?"

It seemed that the wonders would never end - added to all the 
praise he had already expounded - and this woman was now also 
the only one out of countless population who possessed that trait 
of mind and speed of wit to fully comprehend his righteous words. 
(ie. she could understand his stone aged speech). "With the 
finality of a finishing sword stroke, you have neatly summed up my 
humble request."

Nodoka smiled in bemusement. "Don't you think it's a bit rash to 
approach someone you meet on the street, and ask them to be 
your sensei, without any knowledge of their skills, or history?"

 "It matters not! Mine own eyes tell me enough to know that I can 
find no one better."

She was inclined to blush a little at that. "I'm afraid nonetheless I 
will have to decline. I have never taught anyone before - despite 
your praise I am lacking in the skills to be a sensei."

"Nay, it cannot be - I beg to differ. Let myself be the assessor of 
your merits." In a rare moment of insight, the teenaged samurai 
took a moment to consider the more basic groundwork of any 
arrangement. "The Kuno mansion is well facilitated for all methods 
and forms of tutoring - and of course our wealth and prosperity can 
easily accommodate your travelling needs and a suitable 
payment." 

"Oh dear, payment?" The idea of income had totally slipped the 
Saotome lady's mind. Yes, it would be good to have a proper 
source of money, instead of relying upon her property inheritance. 
"May I....may I have a while to consider it?"

"But of course, Saotome-san. Hold..." He paused to look about 
himself. "SASUKE!"

Nodoka may have actually jumped at the sudden cry - and her 
composure was hardly improved when a very small....and 
rather, *ahem* ugly servant (at least he appeared subservient 
enough to be one) materialised at her feet. 

"Here madam is a list of the phone numbers which may be used 
to contact the Kuno residence." The diminutive ninja never 
studiously kept his head lowered, his eyes never rising to meet 
those of the lady he was offering the typed sheet to.

"Why thank you...Sasuke wasn't it?"

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Kuno casually said, "Call him 
whatever you want - it matters not. Now, time is a priceless 
commodity - and I fear that we may have taken up too much of 
your own. Once again I ask that you consider mine lowly offer." 
And with no more than that, the Kuno heir swirled around in a flare 
of loose cloth and silken ties.

Quizzically, Nodoka stared after the rapidly retreating figure, as he 
was eventually swallowed up in the press of the market-goers. *A 
strange character - but rather manly nonetheless.* Deep in 
thought, she reached behind, and gently drew the cloth-rolled 
bundle into view. *Hmm.*


***********


"Now then Ranma, how goes your control of your energies?" 
Unexpectedly, it had turned out that Master Kagora would be 
leading this session, with Cologne observing as a bystander. 
Although it was clear soon enough why that was the case. 

"Fairly good I think, Master Kagora." To demonstrate, Ranma held 
out a slightly curled hand , brows furrowing as he sought 
dominance over the randomly flowing powers. In time, a familiar 
bluish grey aura could be seen in a pulsating glow at the centre of 
the palm. It was a trick he had spent the nights following their 
arrival practicing on.

"Ah! So you can now generate chi single-handed. Well then - do 
you perchance recall this little technique?" Kagora's minute flick of 
his fingers was almost undetectable.

Almost.

Months of prior experience and several hard bruises instantly told 
Ranma to sidestep the shadowy formless flicker that arced 
gracefully across the field. He didn't even bother to flinch as the 
dirt was violently displaced several metres behind.

Smiling thinly, the ninja master commented mildly, "It appears that 
you do." He pointedly ignored the cackling laughter that resonated 
from the sidelines. "Now then - what *you* will be aiming for from 
now on is to generate a comparable amount of energy as you 
displayed before - but without visual manifestations." He directed 
his kohai to the hard packed soil. "Sit, and watch closely."


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


"A-Akane?"

"What!?" the addressed girl snapped irritably. Her face 
immediately softened when she realised who the source of the 
timid call was. "Oh, I'm sorry Ryouga - it's been a rough morning." 
Her visage returned to its dark frown in recollection. It was hardly 
believable - the *nerve* of those creeps presuming that they 
could....they could... Not that any of them had a chance - but the 
idea that someone would beat her up for the right of a date - it 
was...barbaric, idiotic, perverted...it was very Kuno.

And unfortunately for her temper, the current source of her plight 
hadn't been seen for the whole day - ie. no Kuno meant no 
revenge, and thus no decent crunching. Still, when he did show his 
face...the crackling sound of the Tendo girl's tightening knuckles 
echoed evilly down the mostly deserted corridor.

"You don't have to worry Akane, I'll see to those punks if they try 
anything like that again." The bandanna boy was none too 
pleased by this morning's events, especially considering that he'd 
almost gotten himself lost when Akane had detached her hand 
from his to fight off the marauding hentai's.

"That's nice of you Ryouga, but I can handle them easily enough. 
Anyhow after the pounding I gave 'em today there shouldn't be any 
more problems." She smiled in thanks - it was nice of him to think 
of offering after all.

As for the muscle bound martial artist, well he might have offered 
a protest at her casual brush off, if it weren't for the fact that she 
was absolutely right. If there was anything that Tendo Akane 
couldn't handle - well, he wouldn't be a great deal of use - and 
besides it was just a bunch of amateur thugs in sporting gear.

"I wonder where Kuno is? Knowing him I woulda thought he'd be 
here to supervise the attack this morning." The lost boy seemed 
unaware that he was thinking aloud.

"A very reasonable three thousand yen might sate your curiosity." 
a decidedly wry voice answered from behind. 

And of course, the pair turned to see a smirking Nabiki, gifting 
them with her patented *'I know something that you'd like to know 
but don't have the resources that I possess to find out. So the 
only way you'll find out is to pay me, and pay me good.'*

It *was* a rather uniquely complicated expression to say the least.

The pair of martial artists shared a look of their own - one which 
silently queried 'Is it worth it?'
 
"Nah."

At least to outward appearances, the short haired girl was 
unaffected. "Suit yourself - though don't say I didn't try to warn you 
Akane."

There was a pronounced silence, as both considered that parting 
shot. 

"You know I hate it how she *always* makes you either guilty or 
worried afterwards".

"Or broke." Ryouga added quietly.

"Oh my, that's not a very nice thing to say about your sister, 
Akane." It was, as always, the gentlest rebuke one could imagine.

Gazing through her bangs, the youngest Tendo stared at the 
eldest. Every time they were to encounter each other during 
school time, Akane could not help but feel the strangest 
queasiness. After all this was the girl, no woman, who had been 
your virtual carer and mother for the past eight years - and to see 
Kasumi dressed in the same schoolgirl's uniform as you 
was...well, weird.

The effect was further enhanced by the fact that despite the 
change in dress, Kasumi's manner was as constant as always - a 
calming demeanour far away from the carefree or studious 
personalities which were the norm for final year students.

It really was as if your own mother had decided to play 'dress up' 
and join your local high school. Shrugging away the thoughts, 
Akane formed the words for a meek reply (one could *never* be 
stern with Kasumi). "You know it's true oneechan."

"That may be so, but there's no need to tell everyone." Primly, she 
smoothly adjusted her skirt, blown awry by an errant breeze.

"I was only telling Ryouga, and he understands 'neechan."

Kasumi smile radiantly. "Yes, Ryouga is such a good friend isn't 
he?"

"Erp." The hyper-strong martial artist abruptly wilted under the force 
of her beaming glow, settling into his own red-faced and very 
sheepishly sickly grin. Ryouga's innate...sensitivity to pretty girls 
was not particularly fussed as to the identity of the said pretty girl.

At least outwardly oblivious to her effect on the rattled boy, Kasumi 
continued to address her younger sister uninterrupted. "Anyway, 
I'm afraid I have another study session with Naoko-sensei, so I 
won't be able to prepare a fresh dinner."

"Really?" Akane brightened - perhaps a little too excitedly for 
comfort. "Don't worry oneechan, I can make dinner tonight. Just 
leave it to me."

"No, no that's alright." Kasumi fired back rapidly, somehow 
managing to maintain both her cheery tone and bright smile - 
though the latter of the two drifted towards the strained zone. "I 
already left some pre-made dishes on the bottom shelf of the 
refrigerator. Mr Saotome will also be doing a little something on 
the side as well." *Kami-sama preserve my precious kitchen for 
another day.*

"Oh, okay then." Akane struggled to mask her abject 
disappointment, although she'd gotten well-used to that kind of 
reception. "Next time, let me do it though - you have to concentrate 
on your exams oneechan."

"Thank you Akane." And that was truly heartfelt - even if her 
younger sister was more of a hindrance in the household 
maintenance than a benefit, no one could fault Akane for not trying 
her utmost best. The tolling of the school bell tower interrupted 
Kasumi's thoughts. "Oh My! I have to get back home - father and 
his students will be waiting for their lunch." With a brisk farewell 
wave to the pair, she dashed off - combining graceful elegance 
and efficient speed in a way that was distinctly....Kasumi.

"Kasumi-san works way too hard," Ryouga murmured as he 
stared after the eldest Tendo's retreating figure. "Don't know how 
she manages it - sure makes my own training schedule seem 
easy-goin'." He grinned embarrassedly. 

Akane's head lowered, a little ashamed. "Yes, I've always tried to 
help - but oneechan insists on doing everything herself. It's not 
really fair for her, for her life that is."

"Yeah." Inwardly, the bandanna boy was kicking himself for 
spoiling the light-hearted mood. Frantically, he scrabbled for some 
other topic to discuss. "Anyhow...I wonder what Kuno's doing?"

If anything, Akane's frown only deepened. "Does it really matter? - 
it's just Kuno after all."


**********


To Ranma's surprise, the morning training had passed quite 
quickly, given that it had been a relatively peaceful session. He 
had spent the greater part of the practice hours in relative 
inactivity - trying as of yet in vain to suppress his chi 
manifestations to what seemed to be the incredibly minuscule 
levels that Master Kagora demanded.

At a respectful distance away stood another warrior, silently 
appraising the object of her intense interest. It seemed that the 
ninja trainee was outwardly unaware of her presence, so she 
quietly crept forward, and drew breath to offer a not so very 
discreet greeting.

"Hello Shampoo." Instinctively, the ninja trainee could have 
guessed who it was.

Her own nicely prepared 'hello' died in her throat, as she realised 
her discovery. Ah well, the prize wouldn't have been so worthy, had 
he *not* been such a good combatant. "Shampoo hope Ranma not 
already forget promise." She winked saucily at the sullen boy in 
black.

Biting back a reflexive shiver at the sheer amount of cleavage the 
girl was displaying as she leaned forwards to look him directly in 
the eyes, Ranma nodded dumbly.

"Is good then - now you come with Shampoo - she have good 
place to for Ranma to show." Leaving no room for argument, she 
purposefully took the taller boy's hand in her own, and pulling him 
close, led her love towards a secluded training hall she had 
secured for the hour.

Almost stumbling as he struggled to maintain a socially 
acceptable distance, yet not fall behind the purple haired girl's 
rapid pace, Ranma absently wondered why the Amazon 
specifically needed what she called a 'good place'.


***********


It was the most dratted of ill fortune. For the better part five hours, 
Mousse had been tailing a certain Shinkasa trainee, patiently 
awaiting for an opportunity to attack when the outsider was alone. 
And now, when the Japanese lecher was supposedly having his 
break - the Master of Hidden weapons had gone and lost the 
elusive ninja.

It suddenly occurred to him that Shampoo hadn't been seen for a 
while either.

Whilst that wasn't particularly surprising (Mousse didn't see a lot of 
things anyway), it was still.....

And after all, she *had* been present for all of Ranma's personal 
training sessions with the old bat. Eyebrows narrowing urgently, 
Mousse set off in a random direction to find either of the two.


***********


"Now, you no go easy on Shampoo just because she girl. 
Shampoo already find out about Ranma's no no hit girl policy." 
Playfully, she bared her teeth in a mock snarl. "Try that on her and 
Shampoo beat you up extremely very good." Inwardly, the 
lavender haired girl was gleefully bubbling in joy. The spatula girl's 
advice had been sound - now she was alone with her pigtailed 
dream, and both of them together were happy and willing about 
that for once.

"So you want me to show you the pressure point I used to down 
you?" Ranma tried to maintain a casual air as he stood easily with 
hands resting in his trouser pockets.

"Yes, but me also want you show how you manage to get close 
enough to use attack." Without waiting for his response she 
smiled prettily, raising both hands to him in a clear request for his 
guidance.

Or it could also have passed for an invitation for a comfy hug, the 
ninja trainee sourly observed. Ah well, best to get this over with 
quickly and with a minimum of fuss. "Alright, we'll start with this." 
He raised a clenched fist in a telegraphed straightforward boxer's 
jab. "Block it."

It was one of the most basic moves - and aeons below the 
standard of any Amazon fighter, let alone the current age 
champion. "Alright now - you do the same for me."

Without a further thought, Shampoo duplicated the simple attack, 
and found the energy of her fist cupped and absorbed. Reacting 
more on instinct than conscious thought, she rounded her other 
hand to bear as her body was pulled towards his.

Only that the ninja trainee wasn't there to meet the defensive chop 
- and the Amazon found herself twirling uncontrollably, her long, 
lustrous hair tangling the two together. Passively, Shampoo 
allowed her arms to be pulled behind into a lock, resisting the urge 
to purr as she was held bodily against the heavier ninja. Oh yes, 
Ukyou's advice had been gooood. Like a slinky cat, the 
voluptuous girl's curves seem to mould themselves against his 
firm frame. She hadn't gotten this close since...well since they 
had first met.

And of course, Ranma suddenly became all to aware of their 
somewhat precarious position - with his face buried in the girl's 
thick mane, and her firm posterior pressing tightly against 
his...*ahem*. Cologne would have been most pleased at his 
speed performance as he forcibly ejected the arm lock grip. 
"Heh....uhhh let's try that again - this time slowly."

Pouting ever so slightly, the purple haired girl disengaged herself 
fully, and once more held out her hands. "No this time, you show 
Shampoo how do."

*OhGod OhGod OhGod....* She knew what she was trying to do. 
He *definitely* knew what she was trying to do, - so why was he still 
doing it? "A-alright. You'll have to come c-closer. This is a very 
close range manoeuvre. She had no problem whatsoever doing 
that.

"Uhhh. Not that close Shampoo."

"Hmph." She sniffed daintily, but stepped back nonetheless - a 
little.

"Alright, the move only works for direct fist attacks okay?" He 
lightly grasped her wrists to guide her actions. "When I attack, you 
bring your open palm thus, take hold of my fingers here, and here, 
- reverse - then pull - hard." The technique wasn't that difficult in 
reality - but for martial artists it may have taken some getting used 
to the unorthodox mentality. 

"Looks too too easy - now Shampoo try." And without waiting for 
his preparation, she grabbed a hand, twisted and yanked.

Hard.

Depending on your point of view, the resulting tangle of limbs were 
a decidedly mixed blessing indeed. 

And somehow, the black-clad boy was unable to feel particularly 
surprised by the arrangement - although there were more pressing 
matters at present to attend to.

Feeling the almost oppressively delightful weight of her beloved 
as he sandwiched her against the hard wooden floor, Shampoo 
shivered in anticipation, feeling the heat rise between them. 
Giving a sultry smile, she locked hands firmly behind his pigtail, as 
her silky legs parted to wrap around his waist.

*OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod.* Almost ethereally, the teenaged 
boy could feel the accommodating warmth of the girl's soft, bare 
thighs through the open slits on her warrior's skirt. Seeing an 
opportunity in her love's open mouthed shock, Shampoo quickly 
covered it with her own. 

Her grip around his neck prevented the boy from escape as she 
deepened the heavy kiss. Panicked, and feeling his body 
beginning to naturally respond to the intense affection, Ranma 
jerked violently to the side. Unfortunately, the move was insufficient 
to break the purple-haired girl's tenacious hold, and served only to 
send the tussling pair into a roll. Moaning into the kiss, Shampoo 
twisted her shoulders, until she lay on top, thighs straddling his 
hips.

Ah, this was much better - more control you see, and her beloved 
was enjoying it too - she could feel it. Shampoo was almost lolling 
in her satisfied happiness.

The ninja trainee stiffened as he felt roaming hands (that clearly 
didn't belong to him) boldly exploring their way down his chest, 
pausing to test the firmness of his stomach muscles, then down, 
down.....

Desperately, he brought both hands to either side of the loving 
Amazon's face and with a massive heave wrenched her off. "Stop 
it Shampoo!" he barked harshly. 

Confused, and a little dazed by the force of her heaving emotions, 
the girl smiled uncertainly, then discarding the errant thoughts 
lowered her head to the attack once more.

*Slap!!* 

He immediately regretted the moment hardened fingers broke 
against the softest cheek.

The purple haired Amazon froze as if poleaxed. Wordlessly, a 
trembling hand crept its way up to the stinging red imprint. "R-
Ranma?" She blinked back moistening eyes. Shampoo was a 
warrior - she would not cry.

Gently, the pigtailed trainee shifted her to one side, then stood up. 
With his back turned, she could barely make out his reply. "I'm 
sorry, I should never have done that." She watched wordlessly as 
his shoulders appeared to straighten, along with his resolve. 
Making an about face, he bowed low - the obeisance of an 
apology, not once raising his eyes to meet hers.

No, he couldn't do that. He could feel it, know it - that there were 
tears waiting to fall should he but tilt his gaze a little upwards.

*Clck*

Through his remorse, through the dimly haze of passion that was 
only now beginning to recede, Ranma's ear's still registered the 
near-undetectable slide of metal over wood. He swerved a 
hairsbreadth too late, and nearly missed noticing the clean slash 
dissecting his precious jet silken shirt from the neck to belly. The 
stinging fire that seemed to afterburn its way down the trail left 
from the tear was evidence that more than his Chinese top had 
sustained damage.

It took several micronic instants later for the ninja trainee to 
actually determine just what had stung him. The handsized bolt - 
its steel head embedded in the planking of the hardwood floor 
was a helpful hint. Raising almost resigned eyes to the crack in 
the lone doorway, he murmured softly, "Now if you were a *real* 
ninja instead of an amateur trying to play hide and seek - that bolt 
shaft would have been poisoned." With a patience that befitted 
one who had all the time in the world, he lazily shifted into a stance 
slightly more aggressive than the previous. "Of course, if you were 
a real ninja you wouldn't have missed in the first place - and I'd be 
dead." Almost as an afterthought he added, "Master Kagora will 
have my head if you don't get it first."


***********


Initially, Mousse had been content to bide his time over stalking 
the Japanese outsider - once the boy in black had been found of 
course. It had taken a considerable length of time, for though the 
village was not particularly expansive, there were numerous 
vacated buildings, fields, and even wood clearings - all of which 
could serve as a forbidden meeting place for two.

But at long last persistence, as it always did, paid off. And he had 
spotted - or rather heard the sound of two individuals 
doing....something.

The various...noises were not those he could immediately 
associate with common activities, and for a few seconds, he 
stood at bay, wondering whether or not it would be worth the risk 
of detection to check in on the as of yet unidentified souls.

The indecision was promptly mooted by the audibly sharp and 
very familiar resonance of an open hand striking tender flesh.

As quietly as any master of sounds - one who had spent the 
greater part of his life relying on senses other than sight, Mousse 
glided towards the entrance, the stout doorway seeming to mock 
by what it concealed beyond.

He almost wished he had never laid hands upon that accursed 
oaken barrier, when the environs behind it were revealed. His 
beloved, sweet lovely Shampoo, lying prone, flat upon her back - 
quivering fingers upraised to the side of her face - the reason why 
clear even from this distance, and with his eyesight.

And lo, there stood another - another Mousse had learned to 
recognise just as easily. The bastard, standing close by, head 
lowered as he gently rubbed at the palm of his hand.

Acting as if it had been Ranma that had been injured in the 
impact. 

No more was required. Leaving the sliding door ajar, Mousse took 
a single swift step backwards, whilst simultaneously reaching into 
his right-arm sleeve. 

It was a weapon that even the Master of Hidden Weapons very 
rarely used - generally preferring as he did devices which could be 
thrown, or wielded - those which were not so reliant upon vision. 
But the crossbow was fast, deadly, and most critically, silent.

All this and more hardly even crossed the Amazon's mind as he 
raised the weapon to his face, ignoring as the rear-sight of the 
bow displaced the lens of his spectacles. The vague impression 
of a blackish blur set in front of a slightly less blackish background 
was more than enough of a target for him to let fly.

Unfortunately, he was to find out that it wasn't sufficient to actually 
score a hit.

Mousse could have sworn that Saotome was moving before the 
trigger had even been depressed, but it was a pointless issue. 
The bolt had missed, and his hand was committed. Ignoring 
whatever the black swine had to say in response to the 
unannounced attack, Mousse impatiently pushed his unruly hair 
aside and forcibly shoved the oaken door aside.


***********


"Ah, so it was you Mousse, back for more?" If it weren't for the 
decidedly hostile tension pervading the atmosphere, the tone 
might have been construed as friendly. "You're a little early. As I 
recall the ban imposed on you was for five *full* days?"

Stunned by the recent tumult to her emotions, Shampoo kept to 
her prone position, additionally shocked by the total change in 
Ranma's demeanour. Gone was the bumbling naïve adolescent, 
or the sombrely honourable apologiser. So this was Ranma the 
ninja warrior - the one who had faced and defeated her - the 
precise, deadly one. 

In a visceral way the lavender haired girl had to admit she 
really...really *liked* this Ranma. It was a wonder which persona 
was the real one though.

"Don't even bother trying to talk rules to me - I don't have to justify 
my actions to cowardly bastards like you." Mousse carefully bit 
back the fury in his voice.

"Oh yes, that reminds me, how's the crotch doing?"

Oh, that really did it. With a shriek of pure unadulterated rage, 
Mousse charged headlong into the attack, a myriad of chained 
recurved hooks buzzing like flies before him. "Die Saotome!!!"

Martial artist, ninja or otherwise, Ranma was more than a little 
astounded by the sheer mass of metallic gadgetry that was hurled 
his was - more than would be ever possible to store, let alone 
carry in one's sleeves - Hidden Weapons or otherwise. Hurriedly 
bunching leg muscles to beat a swift retreat, he was only partially 
aware as Shampoo did likewise to escape the random offensive.

Steel clashed dully upon steel as the pigtailed trainee unsheathed 
a single katana and breathlessly swept aside the entangling links 
with a double handed slash, following through with a curving stab 
to the stomach. It was a vicious move, and one which would likely 
spill entrails across the polished wooden surface, but considering 
that all those hooks were barbed and *sharp*, Ranma was not 
about to lend the benefit of the doubt. 

Of all the methods or techniques available in the martial artist's 
repertoire to escape the disembowelment, pulling out a circular, 
bronze embossed shield to block, was not one of the expected. 
The Amazon barely flinched as his new tool absorbed the energy 
of the thrust, even as the razor point of the katana bit deep into the 
wood of the shield. Pulling his fist back, Mousse promptly punched 
the flailing ninja trainee in a right hook to he jaw.

The world seemed to go a hazily splotchy red as Ranma felt his 
head snap back as if whiplashed. Ignoring the blackening surge of 
blood, he fought to maintain the crystal clarity and the perception 
of battle readiness. With clinical disregard for the impact, the 
teenager systematically categorised the situation. He had been 
struck heavily (duh!); Mousse had punched him with the flat of the 
heavy shield; his katana was now currently embedded in the wood 
of that same shield.

*Thank God I carry two of them.* Ranma had no problem duelling 
with a single blade (or no weapons at all for that matter), but it had 
been a few years since the requirement had arisen, especially in 
such a serious encounter. The fact that his jaw ached continuously, 
and perception was still a tad on the hazy side from the impact did 
not improve matters.

"For what you've done to my Shampoo, the penalty can only be 
death." 

The said girl looked ready to object to that pronouncement, but a 
single wave from the Shinkasa ninja deterred her from action. "If I 
can't handle this intruder by myself Shampoo, then I don't deserve 
to wear Clan colours."

Against her more instinctual judgement, the purple haired girl 
backed off. The honour of the duel, and rights of interference was 
important to any and all Amazons.

The pair continue to make slow circuits about the hall, eyes never 
straying from each other. "Don't worry Saotome, you'll always to 
deserve to wear the black gear, you and all your stinking 
Burakumin friends." If Mousse expected his mortal enemy to be 
fazed by the insult, he was sorely disappointed.

"Ah, I've seen you've learnt your new word for today. How long did 
it take you to find it in the dictionary?" Unseen by the myopic 
Amazon, Ranma tensed, waiting for the moment when the 
Chinese warrior would respond. 

"You mock me? Scum like you...aghk!" From thereon end it was 
all downhill.

Shampoo could only stare with morbidly fascinated curiosity as 
the pigtailed boy systematically dismantled the Amazon fighter in 
a seemingly continuous series of precision bruisings, never 
leaving an instant for the Hidden Weapons master to recover. She 
shivered reflexively, gaping as the process continued past the 
thirty second count. This wasn't a duel - even in the harshest of 
arenas, the annual championships, it was a natural custom to 
back off if your opponent was to fall.

Mousse was never allowed the luxury - every time he looked to 
collapse to the ground, an uppercut or base drive would send him 
back upright. "Swear not to molest or pester Shampoo any further 
without her permission."

Through a blackened eye, Mousse stared defiantly, not trusting his 
swollen lips to speak coherent words. 

The left arm were the first to go - deftly dislocated and twisted with 
the minimum of collateral damage. Mousse gargled in agony as 
his hated enemy savagely drove his fingers into the swelling of the 
disjoint. "You will not interfere with Shampoo's affairs again." 
*Jab.* "I would have thought a smart boy like you would have got 
the message by now."

Sputtering through weakened lips, Mousse cursed mightily. "You 
sick perverted son of a shitless bitch." 

Ranma sighed blandly whilst gently running his fingers across a 
thoroughly abused area, and tweaked. 

Shampoo couldn't help but avert her face, wincing at the airy gasp 
which echoed about the ancient walls - the result of Mousse's true 
cry suppressed by a hand to the throat.

"I have of course been talking to Shampoo for the past few days. 
Seems that you've been harassing her for what, six or seven years 
now? She's tried everything on this side of Amazon law to get rid 
of you - guess this is the only way ne?"

"Honourless bastard, I'll never let you or anyone get between us." 
Shaking his damp locks away from his face, Mousse grit his teeth 
as he struggled to rise.

"As her friend I cannot allow that." But before the ninja trainee 
could continue, a timid but insistent hand pulling on his own 
forestalled him.

"Ranma stop now." The beautiful Amazon girl gazed 
understandingly into her love's eyes. "Shampoo no want Mousse 
bother her, is true. But not like this. Ranma get in trouble if he try 
make stupid blind boy stop."

"Y-you won't get away with this Saotome."

Ignoring the threat, Ranma almost casually poked his finger up the 
side of the Amazon's neck - forestalling any further conversation. "I 
don't know how you've put up with him for this long Shampoo. 
Back where I come from this would have been dealt with ages 
ago." As almost a side thought, he casually dumped the now 
unconscious boy to the floor. "Jeez what a waste - he spends too 
much time concentrating on words rather than his enemy."

Looking away, the girl nervously brushed aside her long hair, 
trying to ignore the severely beaten form just at her feet. "Is very 
irritating, but blind boy no cause real harm." She looked towards 
the taller boy with genuine concern. "Ranma be careful - Mousse 
part of family who no like outsiders. Elder Tze Liang - she 
Mousse's matriarch - she oppose great grandmother in council."

"Thanks a lot Shampoo, I'll be sure to remember that."

An awkward silence followed - Mousse's supinely comatose 
presence failing to deter their memories of the somewhat 
unpleasant situation preceding the Amazon boy's attack.

"Me...me better go now and get great grandmother." Visited with 
a sense of dread at whatever her love might have to say for 
himself, Shampoo suddenly felt very anxious to get away. Picking 
her discarded items from the floor, she almost dashed for the 
exitway.

"Shampoo...wait." Ranma was holding his arm out as if that 
sole action would serve to keep her at bay. "We have to talk about 
this."

If it weren't for the fact that this was the strong, vibrant Amazon 
champion he was gazing at, he might have sworn she was 
trembling. "Shampoo don't think she want to hear what Ranma 
say." And that was entirely true - after the way he had....had 
rejected her...no, she really did *not* want him to put that into 
words.

Embarrassed, and not a little ashamed, the pigtailed ninja trainee 
began hesitantly. "Look...I'm sorry for, you know, hitting you like 
that - but...." He trailed off, unable to formulate the appropriate 
words. *Man, Lano would have been so much better at this.*

Outwardly, her smile held little difference to her usual joyful grin, 
yet somehow came off in wistful sadness. "No need to say, 
Shampoo understand Ranma no like her."

"No. It's not that." An emphatic shake of his head highlighted the 
denial. "I like you - but I'm not prepared for...you know...that kind 
of 'like'."

"Ranma no think Shampoo pretty enough?" That would be a first. 
The Amazon champion held illusions of false modesty - she was 
after all widely considered to be one of the more physically graced 
within the village populace. 

"Oh no, never that." He was almost laughing at the absurdity. Eyes 
narrowing, he considered he may have been laughing just a tad 
too much. "To be honest I haven't the time for these sort of things." 
He held hands apart in resignation. "I told this to Lano as well - the 
Art comes first. Until I'm good enough, that is all that will concern 
me." Quietly, he added, "It's the least I can do for my Clan."

"So...when will Ranma be good enough?" She looked up with 
large hopeful eyes.

His smile tinged with ire, he said, "I'll let you know when I *am* good 
enough."

"Shampoo will wait then." 

Ignoring the still insensible Mousse, Ranma neatly stepped over 
the fallen Amazon boy. "No you won't - not when I cannot make any 
worthwhile promises." He shakily smiled at her, trying to take the 
bite out of his words. "We can still be friends, right?"

A little crestfallen, the girl sighed wistfully. "If that all Ranma wants 
then it all Shampoo take."

"Thanks Shampoo." Standing at the doorway, he seemed to 
straighten resolutely. "I'd better be going now, someone has to be 
informed about this...matter." A half-hearted gesture towards the 
floor summarised the issues. Wishing desperately to avoid any 
further discussion in the matter, he flew from the training hall, 
leaving a thoroughly confused Shampoo in his wake.

But for one thought she had no quandary on.

"Shampoo *will* wait."


**********


For perhaps the tenth time, Saotome Nodoka made a brief, and 
very thoughtful circuit about her own family room - or at least it 
would have been a family room, had there been a full family to 
enjoy it.

It was perhaps that particular ever-reminding ache which was the 
main reason she was even considering this offer put to her that 
afternoon. Above the income which this Kuno Tatewaki had 
promised, the chance to sharpen her razor honed skills, and the 
opportunity to pass down her art to another, taking on this job as 
sensei would help considerably to pass the time and make her 
forget about the absence of the two most important men in her life.

The past few years had been particularly harsh - a while back the 
postcards and brief letters which had been an almost weekly 
occurrence from her husband had abruptly ceased. It was the only 
connection the Saotome matriarch could have held to her family - 
the 'Genma-rly summarised' listing of training grounds visited, the 
progress of her son, or how the manly boy was growing. Nodoka 
had come to cherish these missives, no matter how worn or 
cheap.

And, what, nearly eight years ago, it had all stopped so suddenly. 
Still, she imagined if something truly drastic had occurred, Genma 
would have sent word immediately - in that light no news was 
good news. They'd probably be overseas, or in a land where 
postage was unheard of - very possible if her husband was 
rigorous in raising their child according to their wishes.

Despite the logic of such surmisations, somehow it was a daily 
habit that Nodoka reassure herself and her worries with such 
thoughts. 

*There we go again - all this useless fretting.* If her beloved 
husband and son could survive without the comforts of a warm 
home, good food, and the love of a faithful wife/mother - all for the 
betterment of the art; then one should expect no less a staunch 
attitude from herself as she dealt with it. *Genma was right. Ranma 
_would_ have softened under my care - when you look at how 
weak my own behaviour is now. This is certainly not how the lady 
of an honourable school of martial arts is to conduct herself.*

That decided it. Pacing resolutely towards the telephone, Nodoka 
fished about her robes for the sheet that curious little ninja had 
provided.


**********


"You will?!!" In respect for his new-found sensei, the Shooting Star 
refrained from shouting directly into the receiver. "Oh the Gods 
must truly be smiling upon the mighty Kuno name!!"

Against his better judgement, Sasuke had quietly chosen that 
moment to clean and polish the phone lines (he was 
eavesdropping).

"Nay, I will have the limousine at your abode forthwith every day 
that you choose to grace your mighty skills at my great mansion."

It was times like this the mediant ninja wished he had taken up that 
Tendo Nabiki's offer to sell him those minor listening devices. 

Though the price *had* been rather exorbitant - even for Kuno 
standards.

"Tomorrow? All the better - for every day that I endure without your 
teachings is but a day further from attaining my one true love!"

Now *that* was a little over the top, even for Sasuke's longtime 
master.

"Yes, farewell, and may the heavens fare thee as well as they have 
done so to myself."

There was the glassy clinking of an ornate crystal telephone 
handset being lowered to its matching holder - the rather urgent 
signal to the ninja servant that the phone lines were clean enough, 
and he had duties elsewhere.

That thought being thoroughly processed, Sarugakure Sasuke 
silently melted off in the direction of the kitchen. Compared to what 
the master had habitually gotten himself head-first into, this 
particular fad did not seem too...troublesome.


**********


Eyes shining with anticipation, Nodoka gently hung up the phone - 
now that the decision had been firmly made, she was very nearly 
hopping in excitement. Finally, she could take up the katana for a 
purpose other than hacking away at invisible enemies in an empty 
dojo.

And as for her very first student? It seemed he was fighting, 
perfecting the sword arts, all for his 'one true love'. It all seemed so 
romantic and melodramatic. So...so...manly!

Her rather novel fantasy driven mind conjured up several possible 
scenarios, as to why this Kuno Tatewaki would need the skills of 
kendo and kenjutsu for love. Perhaps the lucky girl was promised 
to be joined with only the greatest warrior, or perhaps she was 
held enslaved by another - to be freed only by the one who could 
best her enslaver.

Well, perhaps not in *this* day and age of modern Tokyo - but 
still.....

Nodoka sighed wistfully - reality could be so dull at times.


**********


"Where's oneechan, Nabiki?" Due to her need to make the 
detours to lead Ryouga back home, Akane was usually the last of 
the three girls to arrive home.

"Kasumi's at another study session - you know, the first of her 
assessment finals are coming up in a few weeks." Nabiki idly 
looked up from the manga she was browsing through, as she lay 
sprawled across the couch.

"Oh yeah, she told me that this lunchtime." Akane heavily 
deposited her school pack as the events of the day reeled in.

And as if in lieu of such thoughts, Nabiki opened casually, "Forgot 
to ask you then about how the fight was."

The youngest Tendo stared irritably at her older sister. "Knowing 
you, I'm surprised you'd have to ask."

"Oh no not that - of course I saw it. Just...." she trailed off for 
suspensive effect. "Just merely curious as to whether 
you...enjoyed it."

"Do I *look* like I enjoyed it?" On a sudden insight, Anything Goes 
heir rounded on Nabiki. "Why do you ask?" 

"My my Akane, your tone positively *reeks* of suspicion." In 
contrast, the middle daughter batted her eyes in an innocent pout 
that fooled nobody.

Akane said as much. "Don't give me that - I know you know 
something I ought to know. So out with it."

"You also *know* the drill. Yen, or else you'll find out tomorrow." 

Somehow, she really ought to have expected that. "Well, just for 
the record, I did *not* enjoy the brawl this morning."

"Oh how can any student of mine be so lazy and ungratified, as to 
shun a golden opportunity for training?" A piously sage (or at least 
attempted) voice called from across the doorway.

Great. Perfect timing.

Unheeding of his kohai's disinterest, Genma continued his eulogy. 
" A chance to practice your 'multiple enemy' tactics every day, and 
you dare to complain. Girl, it is bad enough that your father won't 
let us take even one small training trip - but this!"

*Did he say, 'every day'?* But before she could peruse that, her 
thoughts were interrupted.

"And with good reason." The said father entered through the 
garden door, having finished with the afternoon classes. "If your 
so-called 'training trips' are anything like the...the...Master's...." 
- Akane had to strain to hear that last word - "...well, you're *not* 
taking my precious baby beyond where I can watch you my friend. 
Besides, we've already seen what happens when *you* take a 
student abroad." Soun immediately winced at that last 
thoughtlessly blurted remark. He knew very well that the issue of 
Genma's estranged son was a very sore sticking point with the 
Saotome patriarch, and it was a cheap jibe to mention it.

For Genma himself, the bald-headed martial artist pointedly 
ignored the comment, though his half-hidden frown revealed the 
tenacity of his memory. It would ever be a source of shame for 
both the Saotome Clan, and its theoretical leader, and as such 
had been shared only with Soun, his oldest and most trusted 
companion.

Unheeding of the emotional byplay occurring between the two 
adults, Akane had mixed thoughts herself over what had been 
said. On the one hand a martial expedition would severely 
interrupt her daily schedules - especially school. But then, like any 
overworked high schooler, she could have done with a holiday, 
plus there were always the techniques and forms Uncle Saotome 
*would* have taught her on those journeys....

The Mutsabeto Kakuto Sensei had been talkative enough on that 
subject, frequently expounding during their 'non-combat' 
encounters on the wide powers that were within his kohai's scope 
to wield - the sheer invincibility of the arts that were available, 'if' 
they could have gone for a tour of various training grounds in order 
to master them.

Indeed, such feats as Genma had boasted (even claiming that he 
was capable of wielding such himself) seemed beyond what 
normal mortals were meant to possess - even for martial artist 
heirs like herself. She might have doubted him, save that Ryouga 
of all people had erased any hesitation to believe.

He had shown her the very rudimentary beginnings of a chi 
technique he called the *Shi Shi Hokodan*. True the effectiveness 
of his fledging energy skills were hardly more aggressive than a 
bilious fart - but....Akane fervently imagined what combat skills 
she could possess with such powers.


***********


"Heard about what happened this afternoon." Sitting in the fading 
daylight, a pair of potentially highly dangerous trainee fighters 
could be seen wiling away the time before dinner arrived.

"So what?" Ranma frowned at the suggested disapproval. "I don't 
regret it. Mousse is no better than a bully - a lovesick obsessed 
bully, but still a bully." With a pointed look at his companion, he 
added, "I *hate* bullies."

It was an unspoken understanding - given his rather....mixed 
background, Lano could well remember what it was to be on the 
receiving end of such characters.

"You know, you've started a local uproar over this." The heavily 
built ninja trainee looked about as if he could find visual evidence 
of that statement. "Half of the girls here are swooning that you 
would be so dashing and knightly by coming to the aid of your 
beloved Shampoo." He grimaced in distaste. "And the other half 
look ready to throttle you - cause you came to the aid of the wrong 
girl - namely 'not them'."

For once, Ranma chose not to voice a complaint about his friend's 
girl fixation. "And after all that, nobody seems particularly fussed 
about the condition of Mousse himself. Lano, doesn't that tell you 
something?"

There were a few soundless seconds as the Korean considered. 
"You're going to have to give me more than that if you want a 
proper answer."

"What happened to the male-side of this village?" The ninja 
trainee studiously kept his voice neutral.

Looking cursively about, Lano's response was decidedly 
bewildered. "How do you mean? There are men and boys about 
everywhere."

Unnoticing of his catlike grace, Ranma absently toyed with a tanto, 
expertly balancing the point atop his index finger. "Check this - in 
the four days that we've been here, who has tutored you in the 
Amazon Wu-shu?"

"Well, there was Siu Wei, Elder Lo Hong, your Elder Cologne on 
occasion, - oh."

He smiled, satisfied. "That's right - all women." Sweeping his arm 
expansively, he gestured about the whole habitation. "Women, 
that's all we ever see and talk to. I'd be lucky to get fifteen seconds 
worth of a complete conversation with Shampoo's father. In fact...." 
his voice dropped down to a near-mutter. "...in fact, that Mousse 
character is the only guy I've seen here whose spine is any thicker 
than a wet noodle."

"But I don't understand, the village rulers have male guards and 
warriors in near proportion to the females." Lano refrained from 
specifically saying 'lesser proportion'.

"Ah but you see, it's the females who hold any position of credible 
authority here - and that's why it is only 'them' who have the 
traditional privilege to talk to us foreigners."

"So, they'll train and foster outsider males, but shun their own?"

Yep, but remember - the moment you become one of 
them.....zonk."

Lano nodded seriously. "I'll keep that in mind once I start 
my...forays into the pretty girl population here." Grinning hungrily, 
he continued, "Adds a whole new dimension to when a girl here 
says she 'likes to use weapons'." He pantomimed a whiplashing.

"My friend, the oversexed super-hentai." Irritation aside, Ranma 
could only look to himself - and his own cadre of problems. Still, as 
the saying of many cultures went - tomorrow was as always, just 
another day, and in the meantime there was still tonight's events to 
concern oneself with.


**********


It was approaching late evening, and like all societies about the 
world, it was generally a time for rest. For several however, in one 
Amazon Village in the heart of the rugged Bayankala Mountain 
Ranges, sleep was not a choice activity for a certain okonomiyaki 
boy turned girl (or was it the other way around?).

Once again she had witnessed a side to her Ranchan previously 
never seen, much less imagined. And to think she had cursed and 
hated *him* for making her life hell. Still, the pigtailed boy seemed 
content enough with the comfort and teachings provided by his 
adopted Clan - away from his true family and blood.

The Shinkasa, raising their finest member to be the finest ninja - a 
weapon honed to deadly perfection - and still at times he seemed 
more human than anyone else Ukyou had had the fortune to meet. 
Absently, she wondered what it would have been like had Genma 
not betrayed the Kuonji Clan, and upheld his commitment for his 
son to be wed with...her. Married to Ranchan - Ukyou laughed 
out loud at the unlikely image. A child's fantasy, no more - in lieu of 
maturity both in her and her now lifelong friend, it was like being, 
well, wed to your own brother.

Ewww.

Still, Ukyou thought she could well appreciate what Shampoo saw 
in the guy. Ranchan after all was...Ranchan, her fiance, her...

The chef's musings were interrupted by a polite but insistent 
knock. "Come in."

And as if summoned to share her thoughts, the door creaked 
open to reveal the candle-lit figure of Shampoo herself. "Spatula 
girl no asleep yet?"

Ukyou smiled at the teasing nickname - the dual of her own 
occasional reference to the Amazon as the 'bonbori girl'. "Looks 
like I'm not the only one sugar." She smiled thinly at Shampoo's 
somewhat dishevelled state.

For a strange, single instant, the lavender haired girl felt a pang of 
disquiet as she took in the sight of the Kuonji heir, clothed in one 
of Ranma's oversized jet silken shirts and standing like an 
ethereal halo of darkness by the single window. In a uniquely 
unexpected way, the colour suited the chef, with her abundantly 
cascading deep brown hair looking almost black to match in the 
dim lamp-light of the cosy room. Although for the life of her 
Shampoo couldn't understand why this would unnerve her. 
Discarding the feeling, she returned to her original intention. 
"Shampoo come here to ask about...Ranma."

"I figured as much." Ukyou smiled wryly. "Tell me, what is it that 
you see in him? I mean, you've known him for less than a week, 
and already...."

"Already?" the girl prompted.

"I don't know." She shrugged impassively. "You seem so *sure* that 
he's the one."

"Oh not so hard to decide that." Shampoo waved off the thought 
as an offhand matter. "Not so hard to *know* what want."

"But why?"

Her brow furrowed in consideration. "Shampoo not sure she know 
words to make understand." Turning about, the warrior gently laid 
her candle holder by the dresser. "What you want in mans?", she 
asked suddenly.

Ukyou reeled at the unexpected question. Given her background, 
boys were....well, guys. "I have to say I never really gave it much 
thought." She shrugged, "Why, is Ranma *all* that you ever wanted 
in a boy?" She smirked at the stereotype ideal.

"Is so." The amazon replied with total conviction. "Shampoo no 
ask for much in man - in Joketsuzoku village, when girl is age 
champion, is hard to find good husband to suit her - can no afford 
to be too choosy when finds good catch. Is very rare nowaday that 
Amazon find outsider warrior better than her - bring very great 
honours to family if she bring him in."

"So what, you jumped on the first eligible outsider to land in your 
sight, for honour?" Over the past few days, Ranma *had* told his old 
friend about his very first meeting with the purple-haired girl.

Shampoo appeared slightly put-off by the suggested notion. "Me 
no like some easy-easy how you say...floozy? bimbo?" She 
fumbled with the unfamiliar words. "All she want is strong, kind 
boy, reliable so she can trust. And Ranma..." the girl sighed 
plaintively. "Ranma do something no boy *ever* done before. He 
beat Shampoo in fight - beat her like she no even there. He *very* 
good warrior - Shampoo no see anyone so good unless they at 
least double her age." She eyed her new friend curiously. "How 
can any girl not want this boy for husband?"

*Yeah, how?* Ukyou brushed away the incomprehensibly errant 
twinge. "But what about love? Do you love him?"

The Amazon smiled as she toyed with one of her odango tied 
tails. "Shampoo no know if she love Ranma yet. But she like him 
for sure - like him *very* much. He been very nice - talk to Shampoo 
like she normal girl. Best grab now before someone else find - 
can easily learn to love later. And besides," she pouted 
mischievously. "He just too too kawaii."

"Boy, you Amazons sure do move in different circles to us, honey." 
Ukyou shook her head in mild amazement. She couldn't ever 
imagine deciding on her life partner in so short a time. Still, if 
Ranma was all that the girl ever wanted - then what decisions 
needed to be made?

"Anyhow, all of Spatula girl's question distract Shampoo from what 
she came here to ask." Without awaiting a further invitation, the 
Chinese fighter pulled back the covers of the bed and sat down. 
"Today, me have problems with Ranma."

"Go on." Ukyou prompted when she failed to continue.

Again was the language barrier. The situation the Amazon wished 
to express was simply never covered in Japanese vocabulary 
lessons. "Shampoo try to...try to....make happy with beloved." 
Hmm, that didn't come out quite right.

"Yeaahhh." The okonomiyaki chef indicated her agreement with 
that sentiment.

"You know...when do too too good thing with man?" She hastily 
searched for more words to elaborate. 

*Oh....dear. Shampoo couldn't be talking about....*

"Make baby with Ranma?" The purple-haired girl tried hopefully. 

*Bingo.*

Shampoo wasn't sure if Ukyou's blanched silence was an 
indication of comprehension.

Gathering her frayed wits, the spatula girl vainly sought for an 
alternate explanation. "Oh God, y-you're not seriously..I mean 
seriously talking about..."

"What wrong with you?" Shampoo impatiently butted in.

More silence. Not good.

"Jeez honey, when I thought you moved fast I didn't expect you to 
be *that* fast."

"You think Ranma think Shampoo start too early?" It seemed to be 
a rather uncharacteristic attribute for standard issue teenaged 
male behaviour.

Ambiently, Ukyou considered Ranchan's disposition towards the 
other sex - at least what she knew of it at present. "Yeah sugar, I 
think that'd be putting it mildly."

This was most perplexing - after all his preferences were clearly 
orientated towards girls - and who in their right mind would reject 
one as pretty and well-formed as her? "So what Shampoo 
supposed to do about it?"

The Kuonji heir sighed exasperatedly. "Jeez, what's the rush? By 
what Ranchan tells me, we're going to be here until at least the 
end of this year. Can't you take it a little slower? You'll scare the 
poor guy off trying to get into his pants like this."

"You Japanese people very strange - take so long to get anything 
done."

"Trust me on this sugar, waiting a few weeks at the very least isn't 
taking too long for anything. And besides," she winked cutely, "shy 
guys like Ranchan can never deal with love head on. Give it some 
time for him to get to know you and, who knows?, maybe it'll be 
him that comes to you." 

Shampoo tilted her head as the helpful hints were filed away for 
later reference. After all, her reasoning was sound - Ranma wasn't 
going anywhere, and as far as competition was concerned...she 
*was* the best. Although the Amazon heir did wonder how this girl 
before her could claim to read her beloved so well, given that 
Ukyou had known the 'grown up' Ranma for a shorter time than 
herself.

Being five year old playmates didn't count for knowing somebody 
did it? Anyhow, "Thank you Ukyou, you very good friend to 
Shampoo. In place like this, is very good and very special to have 
good friends."

"S-sure, no problem honey." Coming from this proud Amazon 
warrior, that *was* rather unexpected.


***********


Cologne vainly tried to appease aching bones by locating the 
impossible - a position on the blasted traditional council chair that 
was actually tolerable. Decade upon decade, for more Matriarchal 
meetings than she cared to recall, the ancient Cologne had sat at 
this very same seat, unchanged from her very first day as Elder all 
those centuries back.

And in all those years, she had yet to find a suitable posture 
whereby one could endure the sometimes nightly lengthed 
discussions without shuffling ten or twenty times within the hour.

However, her own discomfort was soon forgotten when the caller 
of this night's meeting deigned to take her place, holding the solid 
hewn silver staff of office which proclaimed the chairlady for 
tonight.

Tze Liang. Somehow, she couldn't be particularly surprised, nor at 
the issues that were soon to be announced.

"I don’t think I need to formally introduce the topic for tonight’s 
discussion."

Yes, a very 'Tze Liang' opening - taking it for granted that her petty 
indulgences were of significant magnitude that all Elders be 
expected to know of them without the benefit of her direct 
references.

"This Shinkasa Clan's newest focus, this Saotome Ranma. His 
actions today towards a member of my family are beyond 
intolerable." She stabbed a gnarled finger at the elder seated four 
down from her own. "I call on you, Khu Lon, to answer for his 
actions. It was by your words all those months ago that we agreed 
to take on this latest batch of Japanese ninja. But to have them 
breach our own ancient-old laws? Intolerable." She sat down 
heavily, signalling another to take a stand.

As if she had all the time in the world, and was not the most 
staunch leader of her own expansionist faction, the somewhat 
rudely addressed matriarch gently pushed back her chair, and 
arose with all the dignity and deliberation of a goddess.

It was a right shame her pickled appearance failed to uphold the 
image.

Wasting a few infernal moments to adjust her robes appropriately 
- to the infuriation of her opposers - Khu Lon finally began. 
"For...quite some time now, Elder Tze Liang, I have 
been...shall we say, quite compassionate? No no. Forgiving is 
a better term in regards to the antics of your family member, Mu 
Tzu with my own heir." It was left unsaid that as an Amazon male, 
the Hidden Weapons master had more often than not 
overstepped the bounds of propriety."

"That is beside the point. Whether or not you choose to voice 
complaint over Mu Tzu and your Xian Pu is your own jurisdiction. 
But I am calling into question this crime. That a member of my 
family would be defeated in a duel is acceptable - but then to be 
struck further after falling, to have Shiatsu techniques performed 
on him uninvited by an outsider..." Tze Liang trailed off, leaving 
the crimes to speak for themselves.

"So then, what do you propose?"

Khu Lon turned at the unexpected question. That was Zhu Ba - 
usually a silent mediant in such matters. 

Quick to the invitation, Tze Liang quickly listed her demands - 
*perhaps too quickly*, Khu Lon mused. Haste without error implied 
pre-planning. "At the very least this Saotome should be issued a 
ban from approaching my Mu Tzu - the same punishments as 
before when the situation was reversed." Pausing for effect, she 
continued. "Of course if the full elements of our ancient laws were 
upheld, Saotome Ranma would be exiled from Joketsuzoku lands. 
Our treaty with the ninjas protects him only from Mu Tzu's 
obligation to kill for the travesty."

Khu Lon very nearly rose to her feet at the outrageous demands. 
But another spoke for her. "The Shinkasa would surely leave as 
one were that to happen. Our relationship would be jeopardised!"

"What the Shinkasa choose to do is their own business." 
Sneering with disdain, Tze Liang added, "and since when do the 
Nichieju Amazons coddle the opinions of outsiders?"

That was a finicky point - above all else, the elders were always 
sticklers for honour and personal pride. The law regarding what a 
female warrior was to do in a defeat by an outsider woman would 
never have survived this long if the Joketsuzoku truly cared how 
the world saw them.

"This is preposterous, the Shinkasa have long been our staunch 
allies. It is we who are in their debt for the aid they have provided 
over the millennia - not the reverse." Lo Hong as always sided with 
the expansionists.

As several sub-arguments cross-fired across the table Khu Lon 
wearily wiped tiring eyes across her sleeve. That Tze Liang had 
not been fired down from the moment her remarks were made 
was bad enough - now she had a significant enough a band of 
supporters to churn the council into this chaos. Finally impatient for 
the seemingly never ending tirade to peter itself out, the ancient 
matriarch took the control in her own hands. Still the oldest of all 
elders, her raised voice was not easily ignored. "Ladies, ladies - 
the business calls for calm and order. Whilst I can respect the 
ethical opinions from all around - no matter how radical they may 
be...." she briefly glared at an equally seething Tze Liang, 
"...such matters do *not* relate to the issue put to the table." 
Arising as she placed her hands firmly upon the age-hardened 
table, the old crone's tone dropped into deadly monotone. "By the 
word of a member of my family, and the female champion of her 
age, Xian Pu expressly stated that it was Mu Tzu, not Saotome 
Ranma who initiated the brawl. Thus, the latter's actions could be 
legitimately seen as self-defence."

"Mu Tzu may argue otherwise." But inwardly, Tze Liang knew that 
it was useless. Even though he was the same age as Khu Lon's 
heir, the blind warrior was but a male - his opinions were caseless 
in Joketsuzoku law. Quickly recovering from her disappointment 
however, the elder rapidly latched onto another avenue of 
approach. "But I will withdraw my charge for the present. Now 
then, if Saotome Ranma is to remain with us, and under your roof, 
Khu Lon, then I will now demand that all families hold equal rights 
for their daughters to compete for the hand of Saotome 
Ranma/your student. Your Xian Pu has had four days to bring him 
into your family, uncontested by the other eligible maidens of this 
village. It is time to let the others have their chances." *Alright you 
crafty bitch. If I can't get rid of the outsider then I'll bring him into 
_my_ family and out of your thieving hands.*

Khu Lon blinked in surprise at the sudden about-face, before her 
eyes narrowed dangerously as the full implications set in. Subtle 
agreements echoed her words from around the hall, as all 
considered the prospects of bringing such strong blood into their 
respective families. It was clear that in this matter she would have 
no support, for in as far as the unclaimed man-flesh that was 
Saotome Ranma was concerned, it was every elder for herself.
 

 
'*Ranma* season' had just been declared - and the hunters would 
be out in full this year.
 
 
 
 
 






Author's Notes.
Well, first off, some people may ask how someone like Nodoka 
could have the skills to be a sensei of the sword - given that in the 
animation, she never really showed any proficiency. Well, I tend to 
take the perspective that she began training with the katana at the 
same time Ranma left for his first (and longest) training trip - so 
therefore she has been practicing for the same amount of time in 
her art as he has in his.

And we *have* to take it for granted that martial arts runs in the 
blood of that family.

Now as for how Nodoka could possibly see Kuno as manly? Well 
consider what she defines as a 'manly' man.

Now, as for Chapter 8 - we take a little jump forward in time (I think 
I've dawdled here long enough) by a few months.


You can find the rest of my works at 
http://members.xoom.com/dojohouse
Or email at dojo@ihug.com.au
 
Generic statement.
Comments and criticism are always welcome (flame me if you 
must), but I won't accept any ethical stuff from people who hate 
any particular love match ups which may or may not occur in this 
series. I personally don't really have any objection to any 
possible girls Ranma could end up with (although Ukyou is my 
personal favourite) - no don't cringe I also like Akane/Ranma, 
Shampoo/Ranma etc. ones too, but I've gotta have a favourite. 
Every new fanfiction I write will have a different match up 
(assuming that is there is any match up at all). If your particular 
pairing hasn't come up yet, then tough rocks - I'll get to it.
 
Things to note.
Burakumin are members of the so-called untouchable class in 
Japan, similar to the base classes in the Indian caste system.