Nightelf (nwl9354@tam2000.tamu.edu) presents...

     "Looking back on it, I'm surprised that we were able to integrate
into the village so smoothly.  Mom had sold her old place, and used the
money to build a house - modest, but large enough to fit all of us snugly.
Cologne preferred that I stay close by, so it was built only a stone's
throw away, on some land given to us by her.  Ukyou, Nabiki, and I all
lived in the house for awhile once it was built, but eventually moved
on.

     Nabiki had maintained her various business contacts after moving to
the village, and found them to be quite useful.  She started out by
working from the house, purchasing on order only, buying goods wholesale
from Japan and importing them here.  After a few years of this, she
opened her own store, selling anything and everything the village
couldn't supply on its own.  When she wasn't working on her business or
her studies, she was training, her skills improving at a frightening
rate.  Personally, I think it was just her way of dealing with her grief -
burying it under a pile of of work, then exorcising a bit of it through
her training.

     Ukyou got off to a slower start, due to her injuries.  But, once she
recovered, there was no stopping her.  The yatai became a popular place
in the village, providing cheap, good food as well as a meeting place to
discuss crops, fighting styles, or anything else on the minds of the
villagers.  Needless to say, I hung out here often, to sample Ucchan's
cooking, as well as to get to know these people better, to prove to them
that I wasn't some fly-by-night jerk, there only for my own purposes.

     After the defeat, Blossom grew even more embittered, letting her
anger for me drive a wedge between herself and the village.  She ceased
to take an active role in the village, only showing up when it came time
for the tournament.  To be honest, I couldn't blame her - only pity her.
To her, we would always be outsiders - outsiders who had let Shampoo die
and had usurped her place of honor in the community.

     It wasn't until the grand opening of Ucchan's, when _he_ returned to
the village, that we realized how bitter she was - and the lengths she
would go to to satiate that bitterness."

     -- Exerpt from _Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Leader of the
Niichieju_.

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

Nightelf presents...

Happi-ness

Part the Second of the Sunrise Chronicles.

A work of anime fanfiction by Nicholas Leifker, aka "Nightelf".

All relevant characters property of Rumiko Takahashi.  All rights
reserved.  I must ask that you not do anything with this work without the
author's permission.

Note: this story takes place roughly three years after the first part of
"Sunrise Chronicles" and five years before the events in "Sunrise".

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

     "Kirei..."

     "I told you it was worth the climb."

     From the top of Mount Phoenix, the vast expanse of the Chinese
countryside stretched out beforee Ukyou Kuonji, its intricate beauty
literally taking her breath away.  She stared, eyes wide in amazement, at
the villages appearing like anthills below, the endless rice paddies, the
forests, the entire area an impossibly-detailed map beneath her gaze.
Ranma stood next to her, holding her hand, her heart jumping at the glow
in the young cook's dark eyes.

     "I found this little spot after our battle with Saffron.  They used
this place as their lookout point: from here, they could spy on every
village, every villager...anything of interest to them.  Let's
see...Niichieju should be right...there."  Ranma pointed to a secluded,
rather unassuming village nearby.  Her eyes scanned the area, her hand
shifting to other points of interest.  "And there's Shiyuan...Jusenkyo...
Linshao..."

     "What's that place over there?" Ukyou interrupted, pointing to a
large, imposing castle situated on a nearby mountain.

     A shadow seemed to creep over Ranma's face as she noticed the object
of Ukyou's attention.  Her voice, previously jovial and animated, was now
hard, subdued, as though she were insulted by the sentinel's existence.
"That, Ukyou, is the fortress of the Musk Dynasty, home to Lord Herb -
and the Kaisuihuu."

     Ukyou's look was one of shock as she turned apologetically to her
companion.  "I'm sorry, Ranchan...I...I didn't know..."

     "It's okay, Ucchan."  She reached out to embrace her friend, letting
her know no offense was taken, her voice taking on a tone wiser than her
twenty years.  "It's okay.  There's no way you could have known."

     At this, she noticed the warrior tense up ever so slightly,
imperceptible to those who didn't know her.  "What is it, Ranma?  I hope
I didn't..."

     Ranma laughed softly, a grim smile on her face.  "No, Ucchan.  It's
nothing you did.  It's just...you'll think I'm crazy..."

     "I already think that, Ranchan."

     "Gee, thanks..." Ranma whispered, her tone sarcastic.  She sat down
on the peak, inviting Ukyou to take a seat next to her.  The okonomiyaki
chef sat down, concerned, as Ranma looked out at the countryside, taking
her hand in a fierce grip.

     "Ucchan, you know that warning, that prickling feeling that comes
when you sense an attack coming?  Well, I've been having that same
feeling for the past few days or so.  Something bad is going to
happen..."

     She turned back to Ukyou, taking a long moment to take in the
details of her face.  She was older now, and leaner, her face hardened by
the warrior's life she now led.  The last baby fat had disappeared from
her body, bringing out her cheekbones and other features of her face.
Truly a beauty...

     "Ranchan, you awake?  Earth to Ranma..."

     Ukyou waved a hand in front of the entranced woman's face, in an
effort to draw her back to reality.  Ranma blushed slightly, embarassed
at the nature of her thoughts, then turned her attention back to the
conversation.  "Anyway, be careful out there, especially with Ucchan's
opening in a few days."

     "Th-thanks, Ranchan," Ukyou blurted, realizing what had captured her
friend's attention.  She tightened her grip, giving the hand a fierce,
reassuring squeeze.  "You too, okay?"

     "Have I ever not?"

     An elegantly curved eyebrow arched on Ukyou's face, humorously
incredulous.  "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

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

     Nabiki Tendo stood at full combat stance, the late-morning wind
blowing through her shoulder-length brown hair, her blue-gray
Chinese-style blouse and slacks flapping under its gentle, inexorable
pressure.  The dark eyes flared, a small amount of annoyance blended with
a typical fight intensity.  Her refined features were etched into a scowl
as she eyed her opponent carefully, wary of any surprises.

     "Gel, please.  I don't want to hurt you."

     The young man's grey eyes lit up from behind the glasses, mistaking
the woman's compassion for affection.  He wore a long white robe, in a
style similar to that of his late brother.  Short black hair framed his
long, noble face, adorned with a thin scar from a long-forgotten
childhood battle.  "So...you _do_ care for me!"  With this cry, Gel
launched at the businesswoman, seeking to conquer her heart through
combat.

     For Nabiki, the combat strategy was a simple one: Use speed to slip
inside his defenses, take away his sight, then mercifully pummel him into
submission.  She got in, using Ranma's Chestnut Fist to take the glasses
right from his face.  Sensing his momentary indecision, she readied
herself for the roundhouse kick to finish the battle.

     A small commotion to her left caught her attention for a moment,
forcing her to turn to its source.  Her eyes showed worry as the all-too-
familiar scene played itself out, her mind calculating the possible
repercussions of the event, as an angry mob of women ran by, chasing...

     "Now I've got you!"  Sensing the small pressure wave at the side of
her head, she ducked, narrowly avoiding Gel's strike, then sweep-kicked,
tripping him up.  She quickly knocked him out, finishing the bout, and
then stared at the peace in the young man's face, quietly wishing she had
time for such things.

     A long moment later, the young woman ran at full speed for the
village, desperate to catch up to the mob.  If she was right, Ranma would
need help very soon...

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

     Ucchan's opened its doors for the first time with a flurry of
activity, its decor looking amazingly similar, yet somehow different, to
the original.  The overall setup was identical: upon entering, grill to
the left side, stools in front of the grill, tables and chairs taking up
the rest.  What was different was the decor of the place, and the overall
feel.  The walls were wood, rather than the stucco of Tokyo, as was the
floor and furniture, giving the restaurant a cozy, homecoming atmosphere
missing from the more sterile original.

     As for business, most of the regular customers from the yatai were
there, as well as a few newcomers, lured by the new store and the special
"opening day" prices.  The store owner handled the orders with a speed
born of years of practice, casually chatting with the guests as she
worked her magic.  Ranma, as a favor to a friend, acted as waitress for
the day, easing some of the work from Ukyou's back.

     "No, personally, I don't think the bonbori is a good attacking
weapon," Ukyou chimed, discussing melee combat with a young regular,
"Think about it: no sharp edge and only modest reach improvements.  Now
my spatula, on the other hand..."

     "Aiyaah!!"
     "Pervert!!"

     A small blur sped into the little shop, grabbing a piece of
okonomiyaki from the grill, as well as a quick feel of Ukyou's bosom,
arousing the young cook's anger.  The blur was soon followed by a dozen
armed Amazons, bloodlust in their eyes, ready to carve the offending
speed demon into tiny pieces.  Senses on alert, Ukyou pulled out one
of her spatulas, waited for the right moment, then launched it at a
seemingly random point in the air.

     * Thwap *

     The spatula hit its mark, snagging the creature by his clothes and
pinning him to the wall.  A collective shudder went through the group
as they gazed on Ukyou's catch.

     He was an old, dwarfish individual, of roughly Cologne's age and
size.  The lights from the restaurant glinted off of the generous bald
spot on his head.  Drool dripped from his mouth as his perverted gaze
shifted from one woman to another, until finally focusing on the
restaurant's enflamed wait staff.

     "Happousai."  Ranma spat the name out, as though it were poison, not
bothering to hide her disgust at the master of the Anything-Goes School.

     "Ranma."  A strange smile formed on the old man's face: a soft,
confident grin that sent chills down Ranma's spine.  The young lady
gripped a hand on a chair, struggling to maintain her composure.

     "So.  Will you be in town long?"

     "Oh, most definitely, Ranma, most defin-"  He stopped at a small
movement from Ranma, his head cocking to one side.  His eyes seemed to
glow with lust.  "Ranma...you're wearing a bra, aren't you?"

     "Yeah?  What of it?"

     Happousai pulled the spatula (and, by extention, himself) from the
wall, landing gingerly on his feet.  His face twisted further, into a
mask of almost childlike joy, as his eyes locked onto his desired target.
"Really?  Let me feel!"

     The spatula whizzed straight at Ranma's face, forcing her to duck
slightly to avoid it.  This left a small opening, one which Happousai
quickly took advantage of.

     "YAAAAH!  You...hentai..."  Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck,
Ranma ripped the old lech off of her chest, violently throwing him out
the door and into the street.  Stepping out to join him, the warrior
moved into a fighting stance, ready for another assault.

     "Ranma, I'm impressed.  You've certainly filled out some since we
last met."  Happousai stood calmly outside in the daylight, not making
any move to advance.  The two faced each other like gunfighters, wary,
ready to counter the slightest move.

     Ranma's face was a bright shade of crimson as the embarassment from
the undesired violation turned into rage.  "What do you want, hentai?"
she growled.

     Happousai's smile broadened, extending out to its full width.  Only
one possibility could make the pervert _this_ happy...

     "You."  He assumed a fighting stance.  "Ranma, I challenge you -
for the right to your hand in marriage."

     "WHAT?!?"

     "Marriage.  You are a Niichieju, after all."  He pulled a lingerie
set from out of his gi and threw it to Ranma, who reluctantly caught
it.  "For our wedding night, cutie.  Now defend yourself!"  He launched
himself fullbore at Ranma, seeking a quick ending - and even faster
wedding.

     "Wait!"  A familiar figure stepped in between the two, inevitably
getting felt up in the process.  Happousai looked up at the figure...
then fell down to the earth in surprise.

     "Uh...hello, Nabiki."

     Never let it be said that business experience is without its uses.
Nabiki remained calm, her voice purring as she faced down the old lech.
"Master, wouldn't it be better for you to fight a more...formal duel?
It would certainly allow you to prove your prowess...your manhood...in
front of the whole village.  Think of how impressed the women would be
at your victory."

     "Well..."

     "Shall we say...tomorrow at noon?"  Ever the ready businesswoman,
she took out a pen and small notebook from a pocket and started taking
notes.  "That will give us enough time to prepare."

     Happousai twirled a set of panties in his hand, lost in his own
thoughts.  "Well, I can probably afford to wait a day...Very well, I
accept.  Tomorrow at noon, then."  Bowing slightly, he sent a leering
glance Ranma's way before leaving.  "I'll be waiting..."

     The heir to the Niichieju leadership, now free to vent some
emotions, just stood there, enraged beyond the point of words, as though
she looked ready to spontaneously combust at any moment.  Her face, an
unnatural shade of purple, was hardened into a devil's mask from her rage
as she watched the old man leave.

     "I'll just add that to your tab, Ranma."  Nabiki turned around,
flashing her trademark conciliatory smile at the demoness.  This seemed
to calm Ranma down some...she gained enough of her senses to mumble a
weak goodbye, then mechanically walked back to her home, the lingerie
still clutched in an angry grip.

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

     How dare he?

     Howdarehehowdarehehowdarehehowdare-

     Huh?

     A gentle hand touched Ranma's shoulder as she brooded over her
predicament, calling her back from the unpleasant mental tirade.  Her
mother, in her usual grace, sat down next to her, taking her daughter's
clenched fist into her own.  A rare flash of anger smouldered in the
elder's dark, expressive eyes.

     "I understand that Happousai paid you a visit."

     "Uh...you could say that, Mom."  The younger lady's face twisted,
bile rising in her throat as she replayed the moments in her mind.  "The
old lech challenged me for my hand in marriage."

     "I see..."  Nodoka's soft lips hardened, holding back waves of
fury.  Her soft voice, unusually calm for the situation, held only the
slightest touch of a nervous flutter.  "And what do you plan to do about
it?"

     Ranma shook her head in frustration.  "I dunno, Mom.  If I lose..."

     "You won't lose, Ranma."  She moved a delicate hand up to her
daughter's chin, forcing her up to eye level.  "Remember: there are
always options."

     "Even if I lose?"

     "Even if you lose.  As long as you don't let the old master get to
you, you can always remain in control of the situation."

     Ranma shook her head, quietly voicing her negative.  "Not with that
freak."  She grabbed her mother's hand from her chin, moving it down onto
the table.

     "When...when Happousai first reappeared, I was already cursed.  One
of his favorite tricks was to splash me, then latch on."

     The bitter venom laced in Ranma's voice sent chills down Nodoka's
spine.  "Do you know how...how humiliating that was?  I was a _guy_, not
a girl, and there I was, feminine and too weak to stop him.  Every time
he did that, it was like...like..."

     The true head of the Saotome clan nodded, placing a finger on
Ranma's lips to calm them, then managed a wry smile.  "Did I ever tell
you about the one time that Happousai touched me?"

     "One time?"  Ranma looked at her mother, incredulous, but now
smiling.

     "One time."  Nodoka's smile broadened.

     "When your father and I first met, he was already training under
Happousai.  Back then, your father was more impulsive - and protective.
In fact, the only time he ever stood up to the old master was when I was
involved.  He ordered the old man never to touch me under any
circumstances."

     "Time passed.  We got married, Soun and Naoko married, and we all
settled down in Nerima.  He still never tried anything...until you were
born."

     "A couple of days after I returned from the hospital, I was busy
making breakfast when Happousai dropped in for a visit."  She blushed
slightly.  "My breasts had swelled up, due to the childbirth, and...the
old lech couldn't control himself.  One look at me, and he was launching
my way, ready to latch on."

     "He hit his target, all right.  The master spent a few seconds
feeling me - then he felt the knife at his throat, at which point I
calmly asked him never to do it again.  He let go, and has never made
another attempt."

     Her smile was broad as she matched Ranma's now-laughing gaze.  "Now
do you know how to deal with Happousai?"

     She nodded.  "I guess, though I might not be as merciful as you were."

     A soft, grim laughter echoed through the house as Nodoka took in the
half-joking possibilities of her daughter's words.  "Well, it's about
time someone taught him some manners."

     "Manners?  Hmmm..."  Ranma stopped, deep in thought.

     "What is it, child?"

     Mischief, intense and childlike, glittered in the warrior's eyes.
"Let's just say I've got a way to teach him some manners."

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

     The dark blur that had so invaded Ucchan's earlier bounded from
house to house, cackling with delight as he took what he desired (ladies'
lingerie) and touched what he desired (the former owners of said
clothing).  The setting sun cast an eerie, ethereal shadow around the old
lech, silhouetting his small form, making him appear as formidable as he
actually was.

     "Happousai..."

     "Sweeto!"  Happousai took one look at the source of the voice, and
the hormones took over.  Blossom stood on a nearby house, mile-long legs,
hairpin curves and all, seductively beckoning for him.  She wore a
_short_ Chinese-cut minidress, which, with her long black hair blowing in
the wind, left the old lech wondering if this was some dream.  He dropped
his bag, made a beeline for the goddess, latched on...then realized this
was no dream.

     A lifetime's worth of martial arts discipline came in handy as
Blossom fought the urge to keep from pounding the offending male to a
small bloody pulp.  Her voice shook only slightly, her emotions somehow
held in check despite the compromising position.  "Pardon me, but would
you please get off of me?  We have important matters to discuss,
concerning Ranma."

     Not quite used to the polite, calm approach, Happousai let go,
eyeing the Amazon suspiciously.  "Very well.  What have you to discuss?"

     Blossom raised a hand to her collar to unbutton the top of her
dress, nearly causing the aged martial-arts master to lose all control.
She reached inside, pulled out a small packet, and tossed the package to
the old warrior.

     "This is a special repellant.  It works like tear gas, except it
affects only women.  Men can't smell it."

     Happousai gazed skeptically at the package, memories of a long-ago
fight returning to him.  "Ranma already put some on me once, to get
revenge on me.  It was horrible.  I couldn't touch any pretty ladies..."

     "Think about it.  With the repellant, Ranma will either run from the
stench, or be distracted by it.  Either way, she's yours."

     The pervert chewed an ancient thumbnail thoughtfully, silently
taking in the possibilities.  "...I will, on one condition.  Before the
match, I get to feel you once, without fear of reprisal."

     The bile started to rise in Blossom's throat as she thought of his
touch.  "Deal," she spat out, disgusted with his presence, and turned to
leave.

     "Wait."

     She stopped, turning around to face Happousai's quizzical gaze.

     "Why?"

     A slow, private smile crept across Blossom's face.  "Isn't it
obvious?  You two are made for each other."  Unable to tolerate him
any longer, she jumped down to the ground and left.

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

     Night has a way of clearing the mind...its emptiness providing a
blank slate for the mind to write on, its dim luminescence giving a
pleasant, contemplative beauty.  The cool wind soothes the heat and pains
of the day, relaxing the body and giving it rest.  It is, in many ways,
the perfect time and place to contemplate a difficult decision.

     Mouthwash was a true child of the village, a Niichieju warrior of
the next century.  Like any young person, she idolized the older,
phenomenally skilled warriors of the village, religiously studied their
moves and training, and tried to take those lessons into herself.  For
her sixth birthday, she had received a beautiful gift: child-size
bonbori, to train and fight with, just like her idols: Shampoo and
Blossom.  The next year, she watched the tournament, and cried when
Shampoo fell to defeat, at the hands of a mysterious outsider.  She cried
just as hard when news of Shampoo's death reached the village.

     The other idol, Blossom...

     She watched Blossom train more rigorously than ever, excited, proud
to be the new heir.  There was no doubt it would be her: Cologne's line
needed a new heir, and Blossom was the best in the village.

     The coming of the outsiders was an unexpected event, one that no
warrior could have foreseen.  It rocked the village, threatening to tear
it asunder.  And, like the other villagers, she viewed them with distrust
and suspicion, primarily the Jusenkyo-cursed one called "Ranma", who had
beaten Shampoo so long ago.  Indeed, so great was her hatred that she
challenged the redheaded warrior, knowing full well it would only lead to
her defeat, but knowing of no other way to handle the situation.

     Then the tournament came - and she came to realize the folly of her
hatred.  Blossom, the star of the village, used her own hatred to commit
a horrendous act, one which should be beneath any warrior: Striking a
defeated foe.  She, like Shampoo before her, eventually fell to defeat,
to the warrior named Ranma.

     Her heart broke a little that day.  Now it was breaking a lot.

     Blossom, once again acting out of blind hatred, had now committed a
crime against honor.  Interference with a formal challenge was punishable
by banishment or death - if the village found out.  Unfortunately, only
three people knew about it, and at least two weren't talking.

     Right now, as she tried to lose herself in the night stars, as the
cool wind blew the long royal-blue hair across her face, Mouthwash wished
that Blossom had died in battle, alongside Shampoo, rather than dishonor
herself like this.

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

     Cologne sat alone in the silence of her home, quietly poring through
an ancient tome, desperate (if Cologne could ever be called that) to push
the events of the day out of her mind.  She had watched and worried, from
a safe and separating distance, as Happousai and Ranma squared off outside
of Ucchan's, only to sigh in relief at Nabiki's rescue.  She had thought
of going to talk to her pupil about it, but thought better when she saw
her and her mother together.  She envied Nodoka that; for all the wisdom
she would give Ranma, for all the caring and support she could show, she
would always be "only" a mentor, a friend...not a mother.  She missed that...

     A knocking at the door.  Two quick raps, then another one, rang in
her ears, like a tune lost to time.

     "Come in, Happi."

     The old lech walked in, his typical bag of goodies slung behind
him.  He looked rather sheepish as he entered Cologne's manor.  "Hello,
Cologne-chan.  Howd'ya know it was me?"

     She smiled, though the curt tone in her voice belied the volcano
within.  "Who else could it be?  It's the middle of the night, and you
have no place to stay.  So, knowing you wouldn't be welcome at the Saotome
home, you came here.  Am I right?"

     Happousai nodded, seeing the anger building in her eyes.
"Cologne-chan..."

     Cologne clenched a fist, trying to hold back decades of frustration.
"Don't call me that!" she hissed, spitting out her fire at the old man.
"What you're doing is...is..."

     She calmed herself down, desperate to maintain a civil tongue for a
mooment longer.  Her tone, no longer furious, was still hard, unforgiving.
"I...know why you're doing this.  I've always known why.  But understand
this: Ranma is MINE now, in every way but flesh and blood.  If you win,
and you do ANYTHING to hurt her, there won't be enough left of you to
cremate."

     The matriarch sighed, letting the remaining fire within her escape.
"You can use the second bedroom.  Upstairs, second door on the right."

     Happousai stood there, struggling to find his speech.  "Th-thanks,
Cologne."  He turned to go up to his room, his shoulders slumped from the
verbal lashing.

     "Happi..."

     He turned around.  Cologne stood, facing away, tears falling on her
tome.  "Have you ever thought about...what might have been?"

     For once, Happousai was silent.  The only glow in his eyes was the
gentle shimmer of forming tears.  "All the time, Cologne-chan...all the
time."

     The only sounds in the house for the rest of the night were the
tired footsteps of an old man...and the screaming of the silence.

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

     Ranma stood out in the open center of the village, her form that
curious mix of pure calm and alertness common among experienced martial
artists.  For the first time in months, she wore the typical scarlet she
wore in Nerima, as though raising an old battle standard, although there
were two additions to her attire.  A small canteen hung from her waist,
waiting to be used, and, more importantly, a familiar yellow-and-black
bandanna was tied loosely around her neck, a momento from a long-departed
friend.

     She turned her eyes to the heavens, frowning, as she evaluated the
weather.  Dangerous clouds were moving in, their presence warning of an
oncoming storm.  The cool wind blew in with the clouds, sending a small
chill through her, -

     Huh?  * sniff, sniff *

     Happousai stepped out into the open air, at roughly the same time
that everyone else stepped out.  The warriors ran from his presence,
seeking their homes, another village..._anything_ to get away from the
sewer-garbage stench violating their throat and nostrils.  The few men
who had come to watch stayed, bewildered at the inexplicable behavior of
the women.  The lech just stood there for a moment, leering at the
primary object of his desire, expecting his victory at any moment.
"Hello, Ranma."

     Ranma held her breath, blinking as she fought the tears forming in
her eyes.  She quickly took off the bandanna, poured water from the
canteen on it, and wrapped the cloth around her mouth and nose, partially
filtering the obnoxious fumes from her lungs.  The Niichieju warrior then
assumed a fighting stance.  "Come on."

     Happousai blinked, surprised.  "How did you..."

     "Lesson number one: Never hold a private conversation in the open
air.  Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there?"

     "Very well, Ranma..."  The pervert launched at Ranma with
frightening speed, gambling she'd still be somewhat disoriented by the
repellant, hoping for a quick knockout.  Expecting the attack, Ranma
dodged, then grabbed hold of his hand, flipping him high into the air.
She waited patiently for the lech to come down...unharmed, unfortunately.

     "Lesson number two: Never let your opponent goad you into a foolish
attack," Ranma hissed from behind the mask, her tone condescending.

     Happousai nodded, grudgingly accepting Ranma's improved skill.
"Very good, Ranma.  I see you haven't forgotten your Anything-Goes
training."  He warily edged to one side, then launched himself into the
air.  "Happodaikarin!!"

     Ranma backflipped as the bombs started raining down, narrowly
placing herself out of the mini-arclight's range.  Once the smoke
cleared, she reached a hand up to the top of her shirt, hesitatingly
undoing each button as Happousai looked on with increasing fascination.

     A gentle smile found its way to the old man's face as she slipped
the shirt from her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground.  It was the
lingerie set...the one he had given her the day before.  Unable to resist
such a target, he leapt in, ready to glomp.

     "Mouko Takabisha!"  Ranma's confidence flared out of her hands,
hitting the lech full-force.  Happousai flew back, his body impacting
with a nearby wall with a sickening crunch.  He appeared dazed, hurt, as
he staggered back into the fight.

     "Lesson number three: Never walk into an obvious trap, unless you
have to."

     "Ranma..."  The young warrior's eyes narrowed as Happousai started
to _grow_, his ki-energy radiating outward to project a thirty-foot high
monster version of himself.  The giant struck at Ranma with a mammoth
hand, missing her by centimeters, creating a large crater in its wake.

     Then, as the giant Happousai prepared for another strike, the image
began to fade.  His face grew tired as the ki-energy dissipated,
evaporating until all that was left was a semiconscious, dried-up husk of
a man.

     Ranma ran over, picked up the twitching mass, then touched a Shiatsu
spot before he could recover.  "Time to wash you off..."  She checked the
wind, hefted him for a moment to get the balance, then punted him,
American football-style, far from the confines of the village.  Satisfied
at her victory, she stared at the departing martial-arts master, taking
off her mask, the harsh whisper in her throat laced with pent-up
determination and fury.

     "Lesson number zero:  Never, _ever_ challenge me for my hand in
marriage."  Sensing the presence of others, she shot a deadly look at the
remaining male spectators.  "Got that?"

     The men, understanding the veiled threat in the words, nodded
meekly.

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

     Blossom gave her thumbnail serious abuse as she watched the events
of the battle unfold from a safe distance.  As if Happousai's touch
wasn't bad enough...(shudder)...Ranma wasn't as fazed by the repellant as
she had expected, and was repulsing his attacks with disturbing ease.
Worse, if the village suspected -

     "Hello, Blossom."

     She turned around to the ancient voice, an ugly feeling of dread
spreading through her.  Cologne, ever the chieftain, stood at the front
of a small group of warriors.  The young Amazon looked from face to face,
at the solemn expressions, their dark eyes...they knew.

     "Mistress, I can explain-"

     "And what explanation would you give for your actions?"  Cologne
looked almost amused at the imbecilic comment.

     Knowing her fate, knowing that no words could help her now, Blossom
bowed her head.  "What I did...I did in the best interests of the
village."

     "Perhaps."  The old woman sighed, not wishing to soil her hands on
such a distasteful task.  "Unfortunately for you, I am the one who
decides what is best for the village."

     Cologne's gaze locked with Blossom's, the frightening intensity of
her eyes in full bloom.  "Blossom, leave now.  Pack enough for a long
training journey.  You will not be coming back - not while I live."

     "As you wish."  She curtsied to the Niichieju chieftain, her motions
a sarcastic royal pantomime.  She then straightened back up to her full
six feet.  "But know this: When you have left this place, I will return -
to send your precious Ranma to join you."

     Cologne nodded.  "I would expect nothing less.  It is a shame to see
a good warrior die so young, particularly one of your caliber."

     Silence hung over the group as Blossom was escorted to her home,
then out of the village.  No tears were shed, no words were said.
Blossom would be as one dead to the village: never to be spoken to, or
seen, or even mentioned...until Cologne's death.

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

     "So...you tried to get the pervert to use up as much ki-energy as
possible, then punted him away when he ran out."  Nabiki put a piece of
food in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

     "Mm-hmm."  Ranma, her mouth full, glowed with exhilaration from her
victory.

     "So where'd you punt him to?"

     The young heir swallowed her food, then smiled broadly, reminding
Nabiki disturbingly of the lech so recently defeated.

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

     Happousai dreamed...

     A fog seemed to surround him, shrouding his world in a sea of
whitish-grey.

     Then, from the formless mist, shapes began to appear, hazy at first,
then with more focus.  Figures moved from the fog toward him, familiar
people from his life.  Akane rubbed her hands against his chest in
passing, her forever-young, lithe form wrapped only in a silk neglige.
Cologne, a young Cologne, came for him, her body clad only in a simple
bra and panties.  Natsume held him close, running her fingers through his
sparse hair, a lace teddy hugging her near-perfect body.  Other women
were there, watching over him...all of them dressed in white.  Alabaster
skin wrapped in sunlight...They held him close, caressing him, beckoning
for him...

     "Happousai..."

     A new figure emerged from the fog, her very presence driving away
the other ladies nearby.  He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them, to
confirm the sight of heaven (or hell) before him.

     It was Ranma, in her now-permanent girl body, though if her clothing
were any indication, she wasn't made of sugar and spice and everything
nice.  Her next-to-nothings consisted of a lace bra, panties, garter belt
with stockings, and spike heels...black.  All black.  The other women
faded away, going back into the void, leaving only her.

     "Come to me..." she whispered, her voice a siren's call to the old
man.  Unable to resist the summons, he floated to her.

     "Let us be together...forever..."  She held him tightly to her chest,
moaning in pleasure as he felt her perfect curves...the textures...

     She picked him up from her chest, and began to approach his face,
his form twitching in anticipation.  Their lips grew closer...he felt the
first whisper of contact...

     * SPLASH *

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

     Hello.

     For those who saw the early drafts and the possible scenes to add, I
decided not to add the last scene I posted to the early list, as it
probably would have shattered the mood of the 'fic.  It will make another
appearance, though, as part of the beginning of part 3, "Chapels and
Cemeteries".  As several people will attest, I was rather nervous about
this project, and considered adding several scenes to it.  Eventually I
added all but that last one, as they did add a lot to the story.

     Also, for once, I decided to record what music I listened to while
writing this.  Here goes...

     Ranma 1/2 Vocal Calendar
     Ranma 1/2 Vocal Collection vol. 2 (Taiwanese CD)
     BGC Vocal Collections 1 & 2
     _Don't Look Back_, Boston
     _Walk On_, Boston
     _The Division Bell_, Pink Floyd
     _Greatest Hits_, Elton John
     _10 from 6_, Bad Company
     _Classic Queen_, Queen
     _Empire_, Queensryche
     Billboard's Greatest Hits: 1983

     Thanks...

     To Rumiko Takahashi, creator of the dream.

     To the ML and the early list, in particular Skywise, Stormwalker,
John Biles, and Chris Willmore, for their help and wisdom.

     To anyone who has sent in their comments on the earlier parts of
this (or the later parts, depending on how you look at it).

     If you're interested in reading early drafts of my work before they
get sent to the ML or to RAAC, I have an early mailing list.  Drop me
a message if you're interested.

     As always, C&C is appreciated.

     Goodnight, all.

     Nicholas Leifker
     "Nightelf"
     nwl9354@tam2000.tamu.edu
     October 17, 1996