========================================================================= __ _ __ __ ____ ___ ____ | | | |\ | | | | | | | | |\ | | | | | | \ | | | | | | | | || | | |__ |_| | \| | | |_ |__| | | | | | | ____ | | | | | | \ | __ | | | | | / ____ \/ | | | | \ | | | | | | | ____ |__ | | | | | | | | | __ \____ | | | ___| | | | | | | | | \ \ |--- | | | __ |___| | | | | | | | | |____| | | ____ | | || | | | | | \ | |- /____ | | || | | _____/ |____ | \_|_ |__ ____/ _|_ | \| |___| ========================================================================= Written by RpM, Mike Loader, Ross McKenzie, Chris Willmore, Kevin Eav and Caroline Seawright ========================================================================= Act VI ========================================================================= The story so far... ACT I: In an alternate reality where Ranma married Shampoo, their daughter had somehow obtained a magic locket that allowed her to cross dimensions. A few accidents later, several of Ranma's 'children' from various realities ended up in one reality, where Ranma was still a teen-age youth. One among them, Ryo Saotome (son of Ranma and Ukyou) managed to get a hold of the locket before Cologne was about to do something devious with it. Following his victory, Ryo sent all the children of Ranma & company to their proper realities, and then prepared to go home himself. Something, however, went wrong. He ended up in a bizarre version of Tokyo in 2096 and accidentally dragged along Ratiko Hibiki and Childra Jansen in his attempt to fix this mistake. That attempt dragged him to two other realities with amazing speed. From them, he accidentally brought Miyabi, daughter of Ranma and Akane, and Ishido, a mysterious amnesiac hunted by a shadowy organization. Finally, they stopped in a reality where Ranma & co. were still teens, but had never met them before. ACT II: Childra, curious as to what caused their dimensional/reality shift, watched Ryo Saotome closely, and discovered that the locket is the source of their troubles. She tried, and succeeded, in stealing the locket from him without his noticing. Ratiko schemed to make sure that the history of his world took place, and began a plan to kill Ranma and frame Miyabi for the murder. He succeeded in getting a blood sample from her and a torn piece of her clothing, but was interrupted before he could go through with his plan. In a talk with Ishido, he found out about a certain umbrella-wielding maniac threatening to kill Ryouga in Ishido's reality. In a panic, Ratiko rushed to Childra, and accidentally triggered the locket. The three of them found themselves on a bridge somewhere. Before they left, they accidentally dragged along Ryo Muhoshin, a person that looked amazingly like Hikaru Gosunkugi, but in truth was a bit more devious. Bringing him along, the four crossed several realities, narrowly escaping danger, capture, and death. Then they returned to the Nerima they had left from, with an irate Ryo Saotome waiting for them. Meanwhile, Miyabi had put up with the antics of her grandparents (Soun and Genma) who were overjoyed at her existence, distressed at the way her parents were fighting, greatly annoyed at her trans-dimensional half brother Ryo Saotome, and had decided that a talk with Grandmother Nodoka was in order. ACT III: Miyabi went to Nodoka's to talk, unaware that Ranma's life was in danger due to the promise Genma made to Nodoka regarding manliness and Ranma's upbringing. The end result was that Nodoka was invited to dinner, expecting to see her son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter. Miyabi's age, almost that of Ranma, was, unfortunately, not foreseen as a major problem by Miyabi. Upon returning from her accidental trip through time, Childra surrendered the locket to Ryo Saotome once again. Meanwhile, the extra passenger they picked up, Ryo Muhoshin, passed himself off as 'Ryo Gosunkugi, son of Gosunkugi and Ukyou' and had everyone fooled. Nabiki got a hold of the material Ratiko was planning to frame Miyabi with and used it to blackmail him into buying her dinner, among other things. They end up at Ucchan's, where he washed dishes to pay for things. He eventually got drunk, hit on Ukyou, and was knocked out by a blow to the head. Childra and Ishido became more... intimately attached. When his guard was down, Ryo Saotome was knocked out by Ryo Muhoshin, who then accidentally triggered the locket and disappeared into times and places unknown. Ryo Saotome woke up much later to find the locket gone, an image of it burned in his hand, and discovered what was inside the locket: A picture of him and Bell-chan, his fiancee. ACT IV: Ryo Saotome began making plans to assemble the locket that he was apparently destined to create (the photo from the locket being proof of that). Meanwhile, Ratiko spent the day with Nabiki, buying her food and treats while also beginning to feel somewhat attracted to her. Ishido and Childra sorted through their fears and anxieties, but in the end came together in a happy reunion within the local graveyard. Miyabi & the Tendo household held a dinner for Nodoka, who was expecting to see her son at last. What happened instead was that she had an interesting experience with a time traveler (Happosai) and realized that Miyabi was, in fact, Ranma's daughter from the future. She also assumed that 'Ranko' was Genma's daughter from an affair. Soun briefly assumed Akane was Genma's child from an affair with his deceased wife. Things got ugly, but got better again as they usually did (although Nodoka still thinks Ranko is Genma's illegitimate child). Meanwhile, Under the distrustful eyes of Childra and Ishido, Ryo Saotome used the arcane resources within Happosai's room to create the locket. ACT V: Ryo Muhoshin, having borrowed the locket from Ryo Saotome by means of an umbrella applied to the back of the head, found himself whisked away to a post-modern, futuristic world populated by thousands of Kasumis, Ryougas, and other familiar faces (Ministry of Confusion). After losing the locket in a fall, he settled in and tried to make the best of it, striking up a friendship with a Kasumi extender named Ami. The relationship progressed to the point of a date, at the end of which Ami was murdered by a berserk Ryouga extender. Muhoshin killed him in retaliation, and began a slow but methodical hunt for Ryougas across the city. Ryo Saotome, having remade the locket with some help from three goddesses of time, arrived in this world just as Muhoshin killed a Ryouga to recover his own locket. The two fought inconclusively, with Muhoshin escaping. Leaving 'Ministry of Confusion' in a hurried fashion, Muhoshin rescued one world's Kasumi from a group of terrorists intent on beating her to death. A veteran time-jumper already, she took the name Kaeri to distinguish herself from the more serene person she had been. The two stayed together for a few weeks, with Kaeri recovering and picking up some of Muhoshin's skills. Still obsessed with the need to protect her family, Kaeri prevailed upon Muhoshin to take her to Nerima - and off they went. And now... ========================================================================= Thursday was pork bun day at Furinkan, and in a town where martial artists would start a blood feud over specialty pastries, the school cafeteria was not a safe place to buy one's lunch. Not that you could actually BUY it, of course. Yes, for the first few buns it was possible to shell out a few yen (if Nabiki's latest scheme hadn't wiped you out) and obtain a somewhat satisfying meal, but they didn't count. Only the last one did, and it wasn't for sale. It was up for _grabs_. The scramble for the final delicacy rivaled the mob at a European soccer game, or an American rock concert. Sumo wrestlers, kendoists and obscenely ki-charged fighters would defend their right to the last of the meat buns with unparalleled tenacity. Usually, Ranma won the unofficial contest, but he seemed to be busy with other things today. To wit, a thing of more-than-average height and beauty dressed in a tight-fitting girls' uniform. Such things were usual for Nerima's Casanova, of course, but she was unique in Saotome's harem in that Akane actively encouraged her presence in front of Ranma, who looked somewhat resigned and discomfited at the same. Both of these signs were encouraging to the male student population. The new student, 'Miyabi', did not seem to be a serious romantic interest of Ranma's and as such was instantly promoted to most eligible bachelorette on campus. Pending further observation. Too many had already suffered broken bones and worse from leaping to preliminary conclusions in such matters. When Ranma wasn't the victor in the Battle of the Bun, Ryouga was, but he seemed to have gotten lost again. Kunou had been staring blankly into space and babbling all day about demonic gaijin succubi, so was presumably out for the count, and Ukyou had absented herself from class. As for the only other really viable candidate for the trophy... Well... Let's just say that Gosunkugi Hikaru was NOT having a good day. And so it was that with a bit of luck and their natural talent for fading into the background Hiroshi and Daisuke found themselves in the unusual position of being the owners of a sweaty, crumpled package of factory-made pork bun. Before anyone could notice the miracle, they slinked away, leaving the crowd to fumble for what they believed to be the bun, but was actually the underwear of some unlucky fellow who'd been - *ahem* well, you get the idea. Hopefully, no one would try to eat it. A bit of stealth got them safely to that bit of sunlit, martial-artist-free road just outside the Furinkan gates, where they felt free to relax their tensed muscles - or at least _one_ of them did. "All right!" shouted Hiroshi, as he tore the white packaging of the bread open and pulled out an oblong piece of cardboard. "A bonus Ryo-ohki card! Hey, Daisuke, look at how-" His straight-haired friend was too busy looking nervously around him to hear his adulation of the prism card-and-sticker. Hiro punched Daisuke lightly on the shoulder. "What's wrong with you?" "I... I don't know, man. Maybe we should just... Put the bun back." "After we've opened it?" "I mean, after what happened to Gos..." Hikaru had been the original possessor of the pastry they now held, but had been forced to give up his proprietary rights when he'd been found unconscious, bruised, and with his limbs in a position that was unnatural even for pretzels. "What're you worried about? He probably just tried to eat Akane's cooking, and the curry hit him back. Happens all the time." "That's not what I hear." Daisuke looked Hiroshi in the eye. "I hear Ryouga got 'im." "Ryouga?" Curly hair bobbed up and down as the face below it chuckled. "He's probably halfway to Madagascar by now." "You know how he gets, even when Ranma's the one who wins... If he found out about this..." "He won't find out if we eat the evidence." "I kind of like my bones the way they are." "Hey, look. Do you want your half of the pork bun, or no-" "Excuse me." A voice from behind them. Normally, the phrase 'Excuse me' would not sound very threatening, but when the words were pronounced in a sepulchral voice and the kind of deep baritone that could only be achieved by ki-enhanced male martial artists, it was enough to send chills down the spine of any ordinary Nerimite. Hiroshi stuffed the bread down his sleeve and slowly turned around. Daisuke just stared. In front of them was a young man standing about six feet tall, with black hair, brown eyes, a red bandanna and an evil look. He wore Ryouga's clothes, and he was glowing gray. "Can you tell me the way to Furinkan High?" "Oh, man, not AGAIN..." That was enough for Daisuke. ONE lost, super-powered Hibiki was clear and present danger, but TWO... He did the reasonable thing, and ran away. Hiroshi tried to follow, but the newcomer grabbed him by the collar and lifted him a foot in the air. "Hey, let me GO!" The pork bun dropped to the floor. "Where," growled the warrior, looking straight into the schoolboy's pupils, "is Furinkan High?!?" Hiroshi pointed at the large sign on the wall behind them, which read, appropriately enough, 'Furinkan High School'. The black-haired boy blinked. Then, he laughed. "I made it!" he shouted. "After bombs, and storms, and seas, jungles and deserts... I'm actually back! But... but Perdita..." His ki-glow turned a shade darker. "Ranma! You'll pay for this! This I vow! AGAIN! OhOhOhOhOhOhOhOHOHOHOHoHoHoHoHOhOhOHOhOh!" "What are you?" Hiroshi wondered aloud. "Some kind of freak?" The other seemed amused at this. He smiled and answered- "I'm the bat-man." With that, he dropped the boy and ran through the school gates, emitting noises to rival Kodachi's cackling. And why not? He seemed just as insane. Hiroshi sighed. Another day, another wacky villain. With a bit of grumbling, he picked up the bun and card, brushing the dust off of them. After all he'd gone through, he might as well finish his lunch. * * * * * Nabiki Tendo had her life fairly well planned out. Her plan involved corporate boardrooms, political affiliations, economic mastery, and lots and lots of money. More recently, it had involved finding out more about the future via a exploitable Hibiki. And very recently, it involved taking a walk with her new 'friend'. But she had underestimated the Hibiki ability to get lost, it seemed. Because while she didn't recognize the dirt road she was walking down, she had an unpleasant feeling it wasn't in Nerima. Nabiki was discovering the Four Laws Of Traveling With Hibikis. Number One: Don't. Number Two: If you must ignore rule One, never let them lead. Number Three: If you ignore One and Two, for God's sake keep a close eye on the passing scenery. Nabiki looked around for Ratiko, and discovered Number Four: If you're foolish enough to ignore all of the other rules, never, ever under any circumstances take your eyes off the Hibiki in question. Because if you do, they'll wander off without you. Right, she thought. No problem. Ratty could take care of himself; didn't Ryouga always manage to find his way back to the Dojo? She'd just catch a bus or a subway back home. Just as soon as she found one. "Now where the hell am I?" she wondered out loud. No-one answered her, which wasn't terribly odd considering she was alone on the road. Nothing to do but keep walking, she supposed. Whistling, Nabiki began to stride purposefully down the dusty trail. Half an hour later she wasn't whistling, and her stride had changed into a trudge. That idiot had managed to strand her in the most backwards area around Tokyo, she just knew it. And then she found the sign. // ADDIS ABABA - 23 KM // Nabiki had a mind like a spreadsheet, and this is what it returned. 1. That is not a Japanese name. 1A. Posit: This is not Japan? 2. I know that name. 2A. Ask memory where the name has been heard. 3. Reiraku is going to PAY for this. 4. Memory heard it in Geography class. 4A. It is the capital of Ethiopia. 4B. I am 23 Kilometers outside of the capital of Ethiopia. 5. That's ridiculous. 5A. Hibiki, remember? 6. I am 23 Kilometers outside of the capital of Ethiopia. 6A. You said that already. 7. Reiraku is going to REALLY PAY for this. Scowling, Nabiki Tendo trudged on. * * * * * A ring of cerulean fire spun itself through the air, and Ryo Saotome stepped into another world. Then he fell, since he hadn't quite mastered the art of walking on air yet. He opened his mouth to shout something slightly obscene and rather self-depreciating, but the air was ripped out of his lungs before he could say anything. Being caught in a twister and then spat out by it will do that to you. The spinning had made him dizzy, and his concentration was broken. He wanted to think, "Locket, take me away to a nice, safe universe where I can get my bearings," but the best he could do was "Falling: Bad." Since Ryo realized he was falling, Gravity had to pay attention to him. Fortunately, someone down below wasn't, and that someone was kind enough to stand still and let Ryo fall on top of him. That broke Ryo's fall. It also broke the stranger. A super-deformed version of Childra ran up to Ryo. "Oh, you've saved us from the Wicked Warlock," she said. A super-deformed version of Ishido joined her. "He was such a wicked Warlock, too." Soon a crowd of super-deformed Nerimites surrounded the pig-tailed boy, all of them saying, "He saved us from the Wicked Warlock," or some variation thereof. "All I did was fall," Ryo said. "I don't even know who I landed on." He slowly picked himself up, then looked at the body. "Muhoshin! I- I killed him!" "That's what we've been saying," the Nerimites chorused. Then they began to sing. Music swirled out of nowhere to match their impromptu verses. Ding, dong, Muhoshin's dead A boy well-bred Fell on his head Ding dong, the wicked warlock's dead! Ding, dong, he broke his back And won't be back (Who wrote this hack?) Ding, dong, let's give his corpse a whack! "I- I didn't mean to kill him," Ryo stammered. "I mean, I know he was a psychopath, and he deserved... but I didn't mean to..." Shock cleared Ryo's mind, then hit him again a second time. He realized that the locket hung around his neck was cold and silver, not flickering with azure flame. That meant that the other locket, the older one, wasn't around. And that meant that this Ryo Muhoshin wasn't _his_ Ryo Muhoshin. And that meant... "Oh, my god." Ryo fell to his knees. A glowing bubble of golden light slowly floated down out of the sky. The Nerimites reverently cleared a space for it to land near Ryo. He looked up in time to see it pop, and to see the dark-haired girl who stepped lightly onto the ground beside him. "Oh, Miyabi, it's you," Ryo said glumly. The Nerimites gasped at his familiarity with the enchantress. "I see you know me." She frowned a bit, and sounded stern. "I don't know you, and that's why I have come." Her voice took on a more aristocratic tone, as if she was speaking for a hidden recorder. "I am Miyabi, the Good Witch, and I must know: are you a Good Warlock, or a Bad Warlock?" "Am I a _what?_" Ryo could hear the patience leave Miyabi's voice. "I said: Are you a Good Warlock, or a Bad Warlock?" "Well, I'm not a very good magician, and I just killed a man. What do you think?" The Nerimites let out a collective gasp, and then began to run away. A super-deformed Ratiko ran right into a super-deformed Kunou, causing more confusion and delay. "If you are a Bad Warlock," Miyabi declared angrily, "then I must ask you to leave." Ryo threw his hands in the air. "Fine! I just want to go home, If I deserve to, that is." "Go home?" Miyabi sounded confused. "All you need to do is take the umbrella next to you and tap it against the ground three times, saying-" "I've got a better idea," Ryo interrupted. He grabbed the locket with a white-knuckled grip, and Cerulean fire carried him away. * * * * * Reiraku ran gleefully through the endless corridors of Furinkan High. He was lost again, but he didn't mind. So long as he made sure that the walls continued to be whitewashed and the floors continued to be cheaply tiled, he'd be just fine... You see, in this case, the destination was well worth the journey. Somewhere in this maze, the Obstacle awaited, sitting placidly in a classroom, taking notes perhaps (or not, considering who he was), completely unaware of the bandanna'd judgment that now sped his way. That boy had sent him through many types of hell; thanks to him, he'd been tortured and transmuted more times than hundred-year-old Plutonium, almost eaten, subjected to ancient curses, plunged into the violent past of war-torn lands, and to crown the degradation, everything he cared for, everyone he'd YEARNED for had been lost to the jock. At long last, he would be able to _destroy_ his opponent. Normally, there'd be a few minor quibbles to prevent him. A few millennia of social and moral qualms here, some measly law against murder there... Rat had come to a turning point, activating the navigational sections of his brain. They read the sign at the end of the hall: <=== Classrooms | Principal's Office ===> *Right* answered his mental compass. Reiraku nodded, thanked his frontal lobe for the information and turned right. Somewhere in the vicinity of the hypothalamus, a playful neuron giggled. The boy's brow furrowed for a moment. Yes, a few trifles stopped him in his time and place, but in this case, in this past, they were all null and void. There wouldn't be any guilt attached, either. Oh no, no guilt. In fact, he'd ENJOY the feel of the little roach's burnt flesh in his arms... If he felt particularly kinky, he might even take Shampoo's advice and eat a little of the charred meat. It'd only be poetic justice. What harm was there in it? An innocent little killing, that was all. And it wasn't REALLY a killing, not in the prosecutable sense of the word. After all, Ranma was _meant_ to die; if anything, Rat was only correcting one of history's inexplicable gaffes. One couldn't murder the dead, or be legally killed by someone who hadn't been born yet - especially if said person couldn't be born unless the victim was dead, proving that the victim had been dead before he died. It was the perfect crime. Not to mention the fact that it had to rank among the most satisfying revenges in recent history. In his own time, Ranma shared what little substance he had with a girl more pretty than plain. He was unharmable. But _here_... Here he could, and SHOULD be maimed, maltreated, burnt to a cinder with the very ki-blast that his appearance in Reiraku's life had caused to surface... His goal had changed, and the significance of his name. Once, he'd wished to do to Perdita what Ranma did to HIM, to make her life a living Hell - but now he knew her, and he wished to ELEVATE, not lower her. He was now SAOTOME'S downfall. A tear ran down Rat's cheek as he remembered how he'd been forced to leave poor, innocent Nabiki. Saotome had toyed with his life and that of his ancestors for far too long. As soon as Rat found him (and he WOULD find him, if he had to spend years searching this public-educational labyrinth) his malignant machinations would be cut short. "Aloha and greetings, my long-haired friend!" blared a voice behind him, apparently in English. Reiraku stopped in his tracks and turned around, to be confronted by a six-foot reject for a TropiKunou Cruise Lines ad. Ratiko gulped and pressed his back against the wall in a futile attempt to pass through it. Principal Kunou grinned. thought Reiraku bitterly as the silver shears approached his neck, * * * * * Nabiki hated Ethiopia with a passion. It wasn't so much the flies, the hordes of impoverished children, the filth, and the armed bands of soldiers. It was the utter lack of money that pervaded every aspect of the city. It had taken her hours to find a postal station with a long- distance phone, almost as long to make the official on duty understand what she wanted, and all her money to purchase time on it. Brushing a insect off her forehead, she dialed the number that would get her home. "* Good evening. Thy call has reached the House of Kunou. At present, you address Takewaki Kunou, the Blue Thund-" "Yeah, Kunou-baby, I know. Look, I need a favor." "* Oh? How may I help my mistress of yen?" The insect found a new perch on her neck, and she swatted at it absently. "I'm stuck in Ethiopia, and I need a plane home." "* You require directions to the airport?" "I require you to charter me a plane, Kunou-baby" "*Ah, I understand. No." "Thanks, Kun- What? What do you mean, NO?" "* I do not feel that this would be a wise course at this time." "But...but...!" "* Besides, I despise being called 'Kunou-baby'. As you well know. Good day." "Kunou, don't you dare hang up....Kunou? Kunou!" In the post office depot, the mailmen calmly watched. [Who's the Asian chick, Aman?] [The one smashing the phone with the mallet?] [That's the one.] [I don't know. Seems upset, though.] [Cute, though.] [Oh, very definitely so. Allah, here she comes!] "Any of you gentlemen have a phrasebook?" [What did she say?] [She asked me for a date.] "Hello? Speak Japanese?" [She says I am the most virile man she has ever seen.] [You lie!] "Speak Engrish, prease?" "Sure do." "You got phrasebooku?" The insect settled down happily in the small of Nabiki's back, and began to chew. * * * * * "So you also just transferred here, hm?" Miyabi asked a brown-haired girl in front of her, while munching on the last orange from her lunch bag. It was the tail end of the meal hour, and since she couldn't do anything about Mum and Dad while waiting for class to start, she decided to strike up a conversation. "Yes," answered her companion. "I just transferred here a few days ago. My name's... Miki." "Miyabi." Ranma's daughter was glad that the other had taken the initiative in not giving her family name. She's run into enough problems with that today, already. The girls exchanged smiles. "So, why'd you move, Miki?" "It was a... family decision." "What kind?" "My parents decided that they needed a larger house, and since property in Nerima is cheap..." noted Miyabi, remembering a few instances of gratuitous property damage. "I see..." "Why did YOU come here, Miyabi?" The girl growled. "It wasn't _my_ choice, I'll tell you. If it were up to me, I'd have stayed back home, but my pervert of a half-brother dragged me here." Well... it was ALMOST true. Miki's eyes widened. "You also have a step-brother?" "Um... yes... but I'm not exactly proud of him. He spends most of his time passing out in gutters and feeling up young girls." "Did you use to live in Tomobiki?" Miyabi blinked. "No. Why?" "Just wondering." She giggled. "My brother's very different. His problem is that he pays too LITTLE attention to women. Sometimes, I wonder if they matter at ALL to him..." "You mean he..." Miyabi lowered her half-orange. "NO!" The other girl flushed. "He's not interested in BOYS, either!" "Sorry... I thought..." "I just wish that... that..." A sigh. "He's cute, and nice when he wants to be, but he's infuriating most of the time, and-" "What's that you're holding?" Miyabi pointed at a small robot which Miki was toying with, more to change the conversation than out of genuine curiosity. She'd had her share of passionate perversions on her little 'trip', and she didn't like the dreamy look that her companion took on whenever she spoke about her sibling. "This? It's my diary!" "Diary?" Miki nodded. "Want to see?" She pressed a button on the robot - //Even a hot and spicy girl like you can catch cold without a shirt on, Miki-chan.// -and promptly regretted doing so. "Your brother?" "I... It's not what it sounds like. I don't know _how_ that got on there. Honest!" "Mm-hm," said Miyabi, sucking a bit more juice from the orange pulp. "Really!" Miki's mouth was pressed into a tight line, her eyes were wide open and twitching slightly, and her cheeks were redder than Ryouga's nosebleed. "Back at the other school, I'd write into my diary, say something into the robot, and give it to a friend of mine. She'd do the same thing and give it back to me the next day." Miyabi blinked. "A shared diary? And recordings?" Not that she should be surprised. After all, she'd seen more than her share of weirdos since her arrival in the past. "Isn't that kind of... dangerous, though? If someone hears what they're not supposed to..." None of Miyabi's friends would ever catch a glimpse of HER diary entries. A few had tried, but the hospital bills had let them know that it was a costly (and futile) effort. Akane's daughter scowled as she realized that by this time, in her own time, her younger brother was probably having the time of his life reading through her most private thoughts. He'd pay for that, when she got back. In any case, the comment seemed to have softened Miki. She giggled, relaxed, and proceeded to tell tales of times when tape-recorded titillations had resulted in situations of traumatic romantic tension. Somehow, it'd never occurred to her to scrap the toy and save herself all the grief. Wheels turned in Miyabi's head. Someone else's grief might very well prove her parents' happiness. All of the trouble she'd heard of from Miki happened when people accidentally revealed how they really felt about someone. Now, if she could get either Mum or Dad on tape at the appropriate moment... "Miyabi?" "Yes?" "You just swallowed a very large chunk of orange peel." "What? Argh! *PTUI!*" The peel sped from her mouth just in time to be swatted aside as the door to the classroom swung open. Twenty-some-odd students instantly stood up as a little girl dressed in a yellow skirt and jacket ensemble entered the room. "Good morning, Miss Hinako," they chorused. * * * * * He'd killed Ryo Muhoshin. A version of him, anyway. Well, it had been an accident, but the guy was still dead. If he hadn't been chasing around the multiverse like some avenging spirit of the night, then that world's version of Ryo Muhoshin would still be alive. The fact that the diminutive natives of the world seemed happy at Muhoshin's death didn't help matters. Ryo knew he had to play judge, because there was no one else who could handle the responsibility, and he was willing to be jury, because no one else wanted the job, but executioner was another thing altogether. So Ryo sat and moped. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. he decided. Trees blocked out most of the sky, cloaking him in shadows that suited his mood. The trees were mostly bare of leaves, except at the highest reaches of their branches, where they formed a tight canopy that hid him from the sun. Mushrooms grew in that darkness; tall skinny ones that reached up like sunflowers, and short squat ones, sturdy like old stumps. He sat on one of those now, letting his feet dangle. Occasionally he would halfheartedly kick at the grass, wondering again how it could grow so tall without any light, and why it was such a bright, vibrant shade of green. . The adventure in time just kept getting worse and worse. Lying and fighting led to more fighting and more lying, and his companions through the worlds became less and less trustworthy. Thefts and betrayals were becoming more and more commonplace. Then there was the incident with Happosai's book... No, it was more than that. An incident was something that just happened. Ryo had set out purposefully to use any magic he could find to solve his problems. And in the end he'd just made them worse. The pig-tailed boy shook his head. "Yes, you are certainly a loser." Ryo's head snapped up. "Who said that?" "I did." "Muhoshin?" Ryo was on his feet, hands clenched into fists. "Show yourself." "No." Ryo spun himself in a circle, but he still saw nothing. "I'm warning you! You're coming with me." He swore he could hear a yawn. "Since when does a cat ever go anywhere it doesn't want to?" "What sort of sick game are you playing?" "If you don't calm down, I'm going to get bored and go away. And then who will you have to talk to?" "I don't want to talk to you. I want to throw you in a straightjacket and haul you back to whatever hell you came from." The voice sounded offended. "There's no need to be insulting. Hell, indeed." Ryo took a deep breath. He noticed the locket wasn't glowing, so this wasn't _his_ Ryo Muhoshin after all. In that case, the voice was right, and anger wasn't going to solve anything. "I'm sorry." There was no answer. "Hello?" Silence. "Damn you, Muhoshin, stop playing games!" "I said enough with the insults. I don't know who started that stupid rumor, but cats are _not_ demons. If you weren't just a human, I would have to get angry. As it is, I'm mildly annoyed." "I'm sorry." "Are you? You say that a lot, and then you go on to do worse things." "I know." "Yes, you were just thinking that, weren't you." "You- you can read my thoughts?" The voice sounded exasperated. "Of course I can. You're just a human. It's not like you had any really profound insight, after all. Here's an example. Now, you're insulted. You can't stand not being the best, and being shown up by a mere cat - mere indeed! is driving you insane." Ryo closed his eyes. "I know I'm not the best at everything. I'm not the fighter my father is, and I never will be." "Oh, really?" Sarcasm dripped from the voice. Ryo could feel it; in this world, such things were more real. "Didn't you once say nothing your father had ever done equaled the scope of this adventure? And who won the fight in the Nekohanten? It wasn't Ranma, for all his power, and it wasn't Cologne, for all her craftiness." "That's not the same thing." "Don't be patronizing. I know that's not true. You know that's not true. You know that I know that you know that's not true. And you're starting to bore me again." "I can't help it if you're bored. It's my life. I don't expect it to entertain other people." "Entertaining people is the only reason you exist." "I'd like to think there was more to it than that." "When you were younger you also wanted to think that if you flapped your arms fast enough you could fly. That didn't make it true." "Not yet." Ryo jumped up, landing on a low, bare branch of a nearby tree. "I'm getting closer." He felt the voice scramble away. "So you've learned to be a bird." In a more menacing tone the voice added, "Cats eat birds." "Curiosity kills cats." "So you claim to be curiosity now?" "It explains how I've gotten to be where I am now." "So you curiously wondered yourself into a tree?" "I jumped to _your_ tree, because I tricked you into talking long enough to find you by your voice." "And you think I didn't know that?" "If you did, you would have moved to another branch before I landed, instead of after." "What, and ruin your sense of accomplishment?" Ryo shrugged. "If you say so." "Cats don't like being mocked." "Neither do humans." "Oh, really? Then why do so many humans keep cats around?" "Because they don't stop to listen to what the cats are saying." "_I_ had to get _your_ attention." The voice was smug. "But I was still listening." "Now you're talking back. That's not the same thing." "You don't have anything else to tell me." The voice laughed. "Is that so?" "Yes." Ryo leaned back on his branch and crossed his hands behind his head. "At this point, you haven't told me anything that I didn't already know myself. For all I know, you could be a figment of my imagination." "In your mortal enemy's voice? You imagine nightmares, then." "But Ryo Muhoshin isn't my mortal enemy. I thought we'd decided that." "So who is?" "Ryo Saotome." "You're learning." "Yes." Ryo leaned forward, causing the branch to rock a bit. "And now I need to fight him." "If that's the case, why didn't you wish yourself into another world, where the villain wears your face? You could have a slam-bang action adventure, like the two-dee movies you're always watching." "I don't need to. My father's most important lesson was to never give up. I've made myself promise after promise, and I angst over every one I break. This ends now. I won't break another promise to myself." "Your father broke promises. He gave up." "Yes." Ryo leaned forward. "And I've always wondered about that. He was happy with Mother, but he didn't seem to have much... drive. Seeing younger versions of him has given me the answer to that riddle. He lost, and much as it pains me to admit it, that broke him." "And..." "Playing the questioner now, are we? Very well. Somewhere, there is a real Ranma Saotome, and the others are reflections of him. My father is a paler reflection, and I'm just starting to see that." "It sounds like someone has been reading too much Zelazny." "What?" Ryo paused for a moment, almost falling out of the tree. "You gave something away there. You're not just a figment of my imagination." "I never claimed I was." "Now I've lost my train of thought." "What a pity." The voice yawned. "It wasn't very original." "Give me a break. I'm new to the wizard business." "Wizard business?" The voice edged back a bit. "You skim through one grimoire and you call yourself a wizard? You flatter yourself." Ryo shrugged. "You have to start somewhere. And the last Miyabi I saw helped put the pieces together. She asked if I was a good warlock or a bad warlock. I was hung up on the warlock part, when the real question was about my ethics." "For the sake of argument, lets say you are a wizard. What makes you think you're a good wizard?" Ryo smiled widely. "I never claimed I was." "I told you I didn't like to be mocked." "Wizards are allowed to mock cats. It helps balance out all the cats mocking the other humans." "What ever gave you that idea?" "Two things can motivate a wizard to his study. One is a desire for power." "Pin-pon, pin-pon." Ryo picked the locket up off his chest. "I didn't make this for kicks," he said as he studied his craftsmanship. "And needing the ability to travel through time to set things right is not the same as a lust for raw power." "If you say so." The voice seemed unconvinced. "It was destiny." "If you say so." Ryo took off his jacket. "Well, I did make the thing because I knew I made the thing. If a causal time loop isn't destiny, I don't know what is. Besides, that leads us into the other reason wizards study." "And that is?" Ryo jumped to another tree, swinging his jacket like a net. "Curiosity." He felt something struggle underneath the cloth, but he held on. "I told you it kills cats." "Let me GO!" the voice screamed. "Wizards need familiars. You'll do." He tied the arms of the jacket together, making a rough sack. "I'm not that good," the voice whined. "You said you didn't need me any more." Ryo sat quietly for a minute. "You're right," he decided at last. "I did say that. But talking with you has been enlightening." "That's because you finally bothered to listen." "So I'd better learn to do it more often." He untied his jacket. "All right, Muhoshin Cat, you can go." He felt the voice run. From the distance he heard, "No one has ever named me before," "That'll teach you to borrow someone else's voice, then." "Do you even know what you've done?" the voice called softly. "I'm starting to figure it out." Ryo tugged his jacket back on, then reached for the locket. "I'm not sure we'll ever meet again, but I'm sure I'll run into someone like you soon." "Don't get too cocky." Blue fire burst from the locket. "What do you mean?" "You weren't wearing that jacket when you met Spring." Blue fire carried Ryo away before he could ask another question. * * * * * "Oh, you are all such _good_ students!" A chibi Miss Hinako flapped her arms cheerfully, and her students were worried. They'd done their lessons well - FAR too well. No only had 'slipped' in almost an hour, which meant that they were now _all_ at risk of being turned into a living sheet of paper by their teacher's ki-drain attack. "Let's repeat our lessons again, shall we?" The class tensed. Here was the test she'd use to cream off her victim. The male students, mind you, had mixed feelings. A drain meant that the rest of the class was taught by a buxom woman with a voice that you usually had to bay four ninety-five a minute to hear... BUT, whoever was picked as the delinquent student always felt too ill to enjoy the sight. Normally, they'd have bribed someone beforehand to play the sacrificial goat, but today the novelty of a beautiful (and apparently available) transfer student made a sexy instructor redundant. And so, they let the contest be legitimately decided. [The lain in Spain faus mainly in the prain,] led Miss Hinako. [The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain,] the class chimed back. [A cupu tea.... cupu tea... cup of tea.... cup of tea,] said the teacher, after some slight trouble. [A cup of tea,] answered the students. This was Not Working, thought Miss Hinako to herself. She'd tried all the tricks in the book, and STILL no delinquents or lazy students. What to do? She had people to see, outfits to fit into, wolf-whistles to attract... A sudden glint came to her eye, simultaneous with the arrival of an idea of her mind. She'd just have to create a situation where there WOULD be a lazy student or a delinquent. Dozens of them. What did the Americans call it again? Oh, yes. A Catch-22. [Yew bloody arse hole,] said Miss Hinako, poker-faced. The students blinked in unison, but said nothing. [Yew bloody arse hole,] she repeated. Still nothing. "Uh, Hinako-sensei..." "Yes, Hiroshi?" "That wasn't in our textbook." "Of course not, silly! These are extra advanced lessons." "Oh." More blank stares. "Now, repeat after me," said the teacher, "or I'll have to assume that you naughty, naughty kids don't want to study!" The class paled. [Shut up, ye wanker.] The door slammed open, causing the walls of the room to shake. "Ranma, now you-" [Shut up, you wanker.] Reiraku blinked. WHY did everyone in this school seem to know ENGLISH?!?!? Rat did not like English. In fact, ever since his recent experiences in England, he'd grown to loathe it. Good. The anger he felt at hearing the language he despised only added to his already-intensely-white ki flames, the flames that would cleanse the world of his Rival... "Ranma, prepare to die!" There was little reaction from the students to this little outburst. Sure, that was usually Ryouga's line, but hey, one black-haired bandanna'd boy with a blood feud against Saotome was as good as another. And besides, (and most students grinned as they realized this) this meant that Miss Hinako had found- "A delinquent!" More arm-flapping. "Ooooo, you baaaaaaaad boy! I'm going to teach you a lesson!" She pulled out a coin, made a few gestures with it and mumbled a few words. "Happo five yen-satsu!" Draining the aura of a normal person turned Miss Hinako into a buxom beauty. Draining the battle aura of an enraged Hibiki who had been about to fire a self-named, anger-based 'Star Explosion' ki blast... Let's just say that no one present failed physiology that year. * * * * * Ukyou was, as Ranma noted, absent from school. At the moment she was alone, in Ucchan's, with Ryouga. Were Miyabi aware of this, she'd be happy. Were she aware of what, exactly, they were talking about, she wouldn't be happy. "That girl's gonna ruin everything!" yelled Ukyou. "And worse yet, your incompetent bungling isn't helping a bit!" "Hey, wait, are you saying this is MY fault?!" countered Ryouga. "For not being able to tell Akane how you feel? YES I AM!" "I... I..." Ryouga's rage flickered out, replaced by the depression that usually hung around him. "You're right." His shoulders slumped and he gave a little sigh. Ukyou patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. Now... what we need is a little organization. A plan. You with me so far?" Ryouga nodded. "Thank goodness for small miracles," she mumbled under her breath. "Hm?" "Nothing. Okay... let's think..." * * * * * Rat licked the blood off his upper lip. Salty. It'd been half an hour since that 'transformation', and he STILL hadn't been able to stop bleeding. he thought to himself, In a way, he was grateful for the buckets which he had to hold. They kept him from floating away, and the pain in his upper arms directed his attention away from the utter boredom of standing stationary in an empty hall. But apart from that one tiny silver lining, his day had just been one huge, black storm cloud. And what's worse, he forecasted rain. //[Aloha, boys and girls!]// Rat tensed. He KNEW that voice. //[I have a special fun announcement for all you wacky kids.]// Oh. Only the PA system. Reiraku breathed a sigh of relief. //"All students are to attend a special seminar on pineapple carving in the main auditorium."// Rat smirked. Somehow, it _sounded_ like something that Principal would come up with. //"Now."// A few groans from the classroom behind him, and the shuffling of chairs. //"All those who are late will have their hair confiscated at the entrance."// The door next to Reiraku swung open, making him fall over the buckets and coating the entire hallway with cold water. Well, maybe not the ENTIRE hallway. There was one little area where, in the middle of a pile of clothes, steam rose around a rather cute-looking bat who seemed, for some odd reason, to be glowing black. *Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!* *SMASH* *CRUNCH* *TRAMPLE* *TAP* Any complaints about the unfairness of the incident were effectively quelled by the mass of students which was pouring out at high speed from every door in the corridor. Once the crowd had subsided, the bat sat up and tried to rub its head with its wingtip. It quickly found that sharp claws weren't the best thing in the world for easing a headache. She waddled a few steps. If only she could find some hot- A grayish blur zooming in- "Mum, Dad?" *STOMP* -and over. "Wait, Miyabi! I still haven't told you how Yuu and I-" *SPLAT* thought Reiraku, The black ki-flames around her grew, turning her tiny form into a living shadow. At least one good thing would come out of this. The minute she found- "Ranma! Hurry up!" "I'm comin', Akane! I'm comin'!" The bat's eyes glinted evilly. She concentrated on letting go of her anger and instead focusing, as she'd been taught, on all the sadness, all the grief, all the pain that Saotome had caused her... [Ranma, when I am done with you I will personally see to it that your burnt remains are fed to Akane as part of Furinkan's 'Mystery Meat' dish!] she thought she heard herself say. Unfortunately, since bats can't talk, it sounded more like *Squeak! Squeak! Squeakety-squeak! Squeak! Squeak!* "Say," said Akane, pausing for a while and pointing at Reiraku. "Isn't that-" [Shishi Ho-] A flurry of arms burst into the hall, followed by a quick scan of the hallway by that which was in between them. Miss Hinako's eyes alighted on the bat. "Happo-five-yen-satsu!" As she fainted, the bat idly wondered whether the pool of blood from her nosebleed would be warm enough to change her back. * * * * * It was a hot day in Addis Ababa, but then it had been a hot day in Addis Ababa for the past fifteen years. People were as used to it as they were ever going to get, which meant that only the less healthy ones dropped dead of dehydration. The Gerald Ford Cantina, named after it's most illustrious visitor, had a ceiling fan. This meant that while it was only a few degrees cooler inside, the air circulated nicely, giving the impression of a mild breeze. Just enough to refresh, but not strong enough to blow the poker cards out of their places. "Two new," said Big Eddie Majabouti. He was rather disturbed by the turn this game was taking, and wanted to hit someone to calm his nerves. Instead, he reached for his cards and took another gulp of whiskey. The rest of the players took their requested cards. A hetman of a minor tribe, a trio of city rats, an Irish banjo player, an Asian girl, and a Frenchman. The cards he drew lessened his natural homicidal impulses, and more whiskey made it's way down his throat. Four of a kind. Four of a kind. As his friend would say, Oh My. "223 Francs." "See ya dat, sure, an raise ya 89, I will." Two of the city trash folded. The Asian and the Hetman met and raised. The Frenchman scowled and held. Big Eddie's perpetual scowl stayed in place, but inside he was gloating. He stood to win a good sum; the Hetman was holding the wealth of his tribe, and Frenchy there had "Arms Dealer" written all over him in big bold letters. "See that, raise 355." "Bloody 'ell. I fold, an a pox on ya." "----- ------ ----" Big Eddie scowled at the Hetman. "What'd he say?" The arms dealer gave a magnificently Gallic shrug. "Eh, how should I know? It is your nation, oui?" "He said 'Throw the small cakes at the wildebeest' in Gamadaan," volunteered the city dweller. "Was Conomol," the Asian girl said. "He say, 'The Toda people will fold'. Then he tell you that you have small organs, and your mothers have large ones." Big Eddie thought about this for a second, and then punched the Hetman in the temple. "He's out." "He certainly is," observed the Frenchman. "Raise you 123, eh?" The Asian girl silently pushed a few bills into the pot. Five very long minutes later, the pot contained a great deal of money, and the others watched as the Asian, the arms dealer, and Big Eddie Majabouti stared grimly at each other. "Call, Frenchy." Another shrug. "Full House." Eddie favored him with a grin. "Four of a kind." "Merde!" "Four nines," commented the Asian. "Nono," Eddie sneered. "I have four fives, girlie." "Name is Tendo Nabiki, not girlie. And I mean that _I_ have four nines." Eddie looked at the cards. Then he looked at the money. Then he looked at the very breakable looking girl who was smirking at him. Might have a little fun with the little bitch before I get rid of her, he thought. He wasn't sure exactly when she drew the pistol, but it stopped that train of thought rather quickly. Nabiki shoveled the cash into a sack, and, still keeping the pistol trained on Big Eddie, left the cantina. Behind her, the Hetman groaned and let go of the royal flush he had been holding. Nabiki didn't speak Conomol, you see. * * * * * Something had to be done. Miyabi was currently watching for her parents from a bird's eye view atop Furinkan High as they lingered around school grounds after hours. Mother was in the courtyard talking with her two friends, while Father was using the athletic equipment on campus to keep in shape. She had been observing her parents through the school day, and their relationship so far, in her opinion, was wildly underdeveloped. She wasn't exactly sure, but if she remembered the stories her parents told her about their youth, they really should have been more affectionate by now. The question of what, exactly, was to be done was not easy to answer. Her earlier idea of hammering the idea of them together until they surrendered was obviously flawed. It was exactly the same thing that her grandfathers were doing, and she saw how badly that was backfiring. A step at a time, perhaps? It was a little too slow for her tastes, but at the moment she wanted any victory she could get. It was a little idea, but it was an idea, and it was progress. * * * * * "After school? At Ucchan's?" Ranma thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. "Um... sure. Why there, though?" Miyabi failed to conceal a giddy smile. "I just always liked that place." That was easy, she thought. But then again, this was Ranma and food, so it was bound to be easy. * * * * * "Ucchan's? Why?" Akane's demeanor clearly showed a negative disposition towards the okonomiyaki eatery. "Well... I just like the place," offered Miyabi. She saw that this clearly wasn't enough to pacify her mother. "Aaand... I just wanted to get away from Grandfather Soun and Grandfather Genma for a while." This seemed to agree with Akane's mindset. "Yes, they have been acting ridiculous lately, haven't they?" Miyabi nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Tell me, Miyabi-chan, do they get any better in the future?" Miyabi grinned sheepishly. "Um... no, mum, not really." * * * * * Nearby, hidden in the bushes, Ratiko Hibiki grinned. At this point, with the kind of day he had, he didn't care about chronological correctness anymore, he just wanted to put Ranma through HELL. The Saotome family... a nice meal at great-grandmother's... sounded like a nice time. No way he could allow that. Saotome was going down. And who better to bring down that idiot jock than the great Tatewaki Kunou? He began walking there, then remembered that he was in she-bat form. Flying, of course, was what he... she tried next. Being a Hibiki, he... she flew onwards to the Kunou estate. Being a Hibiki, that took several hours. * * * * * Blue fire flared about her, and she moved without motion, Muhoshin-san next to her. It was blessedly unlike the horrible, chaotic trip through the Nanban Mirror. This was much better, much. Just clean, sterile, azure flame filling the world. And then it stopped, flickered, and she was looking at... The walls - whitewashed, not blackened; standing, not ashes, of her home. Of daddyakanabikasu- Kaeri's home. Home. "Home," she whispered, trying the word out. Behind her, Muhoshin coughed nervously. "Erm.. yes, well... I'd better be getting along... you'll be all right here? You'll watch out?" She nodded, then, on a sudden impulse, hugged him."You take care, Muhoshin-san." "Ah, hahah, yes, take care..." She lightly kissed him on the cheek, stepped back, and watched at the somewhat dazed-looking Ryo vanished in a ball of cerulean fire. A stirring of regret moved through her, but then she turned her gaze back to the Dojo. The standing dojo. The front steps were there, right there, and all she had to do was walk up them and into the house... She put a foot forward, then trembled and brought it back again. Did she dare to touch _it_? It was so fragile... A single brush from her might bring it toppling upon her, might sear it, scorch it, send it crumbling. She was the present, and it was the past, and as the present turned into the future... She would _seize_ the memories; she would not let them be forgotten and discarded. Kaeri took a deep breath and let her staff rest against her shoulder as she ran her fingers through her hair, carefully manipulating it to hide the scar that ran diagonally across her forehead - she had to be presentable, of course - and tightened buttons, smoothed out sleeves, fluffed up ru- She had to go. She had to _know_, to _see_ if, if, if, if... One foot. Just one foot. A little foot, a little step, a little time... Time. Step. Time. Now. Before she could decide against it, she gripped her staff, planted it into the ground, lifted her right knee from the ground, threw her weight forward and let gravity slam her sole upon the first flagstone in an irrevocable, irreparable action. An arrow of mild pain shot briefly from her arch along her calf, but when it disappeared, the stone was still there, and no worse for the wear. Kaeri's cheeks twitched in excitement, her eyes widened and her heart sped as she noticed this. The stone was here, and it was less ephemeral than the pain, less prone to dissolution. She could put her weight upon it and the first step to the dojo's entry portal would not break not give way not leave- Licking her lips nervously, she put her other foot on the flagstone. Nothing. She felt like laughing, like letting her staff support her as her body gave itself entirely to a merriment of fulfilled hope... But she didn't. After all, it wouldn't be proper. Instead, she bounded to the doorframe and put her arms around the rounded wood that was its outline. A tear ran down her cheeks and then a stream, trickling downwards along with the grain as she rubbed herself against the beam, caressing it,stroking it... She would never leave again, never allow thethethe... THAT to happen. She wrapped her hands tightly around her shaft. She had to keep the dojo clean; that was her task, and she would keep those dirty beastkillmurdermustwipe men away, whatever it- "Kasumi!" That voice... A voice that she'd known eons past in a different world called out to her by a forgotten name... Not knowing what else to do, she answered. Kaeri straightened, smoothed her dress and turned around. She'd barely time to say "Oh, my!" before her father fainted. * * * * * Tomas Muhammed only came into the city once a year, to sell his cows. He enjoyed it a great deal; the scents, the bazaar, the sounds, the city women... The trip to the city was special, and this year he had brought his son along. "Father," asked Farka, a fine lad of 14, "Why are these people singing? Are they happy?" "No, my son. They are poor, and sing in the hopes that someone will like their singing, and give them money." Farka nodded solemnly. "I understand, father." They strolled through the market, enjoying the day. Tomas had gotten an excellent price on his bulls, and now came the agreeable process of buying. "Father?" "Yes, son?" "Look at that lady! Is she a spirit?" The father followed his son's gaze, and blinked in surprise. "No, son. She's... um... well, I'm not sure. I think she might be some sort of outsider. She's sort of white." "Look at her funny eyes! And what is she singing? Is she poor too?" Tomas smiled. He didn't like not being able to answer his son's questions about life, but he could answer this one. "Ah, son, she is singing an old Bambara hunger song." "Is she Bambara, Father?" "No, son. But that's the language in the phrasebooks fat Aman sells at the Postal Station." They listened to the strange woman sing for a long time. "Father?" "Yes, son?" "What do the words mean?" Tomas scratched his side absently. "It is a very wise song, and it goes thus: o/~ Brothers and Sisters, I have no food Brothers and Sisters, I have no money Brothers and Sisters, I have no shoes Brothers and Sisters, my feet are sore Open your hearts, Hyi! Open your pockets, Hyi! Give in the sense of brotherhood and unity Help your fellow man Because we are all brothers and sisters And because my people have many semiautomatic weapons And are getting desperate o/~" Father and son thought about this, and listened to the strange looking, if rather attractive, lady. "Father," Farka said firmly, "Let's give her money." "All right, my son. But only a little." * * * * * *CHOP*CHOP* *CHOP*CHOP*CHOP* *SLICE* Pause. Concentrate. *POKE* *BOOM* Kaeri smiled as she gleaned the bits of newly-shredded chicken from their various landing sites. That nice Mr. Muhoshin, she thought as she put away the ice pick, had found such a _good_ way to tear chickens apart. A pity it had to be so messy. Once everything was clean and the meat was in a tidy pile, she went on with her preparations. After all, dinner had to be ready for Ranma, and Akane, and Nabiki, and Mr. Saotome, and, and, and... And poor Daddy! She'd carried him to the sofa (he mustn't have been eating well - he seemed much lighter than he used to be) and put a cold cloth on his forehead, just like she always did during one of his spells. She hoped he'd wake before supper-time. The cook wrapped a little bit of meat carefully in its pastry blanket, as if it were a child. Soon, it would go into the pot, and boilburndiedieblackfacesbonesblooddry. Cook. Go into the pot, and cook. Not burn. Just cook. Kaeri only noticed her hyperventilation when she forced herself to stop it. By then, the dumpling in question was nothing but a stack of very neat, very fine slices. But it wasn't ash. And with the others she would _feed_ her family, make them grow, give them strength, and Daddy would- *CLICK* "Father! I'm home!" No. Not her. Not here. Not yet. Frowning slightly, Kaeri wiped the unused bits of ingredients off the counter and into her hands, then sprinkled them into the dust-bin. It wasn't right for both of them to be here. She picked up her staff from where it leaned against the refrigerator and pressed it between her breasts. She'd le.. lea... leav... Not for long. She was... not abandoning the dojo. Oh, no, never again. She'd be back. Kaeri slid out the back door just in time to hear Kasumi's startled gasp and trademark phrase. She'd be back. Soon. * * * * * His amulet glowed brighter with each step. Ryo scanned through the crowd nervously, knowing that the other was out there. Finally, he saw him, sitting by the bar. He looked as if he was in a daze, his eyes dulled and his posture slumped. Muhoshin blinked, looked at his own flaring locket swinging from the chain around his neck, then looked up. "Oh. Hello," mumbled Muhoshin. "I've been waiting." "Waiting?" asked Ryo. He was tense, waiting for Muhoshin to make his move. "Waiting, yes, waiting... you, me, we should talk. Sit?" Muhoshin put the flaring locket underneath his shirt, ignoring the blue tongues of flame lashing out. "Doesn't that hurt?" asked Ryo. "Hurt? What hurt?" "You put the locket under your shirt when it was still..." "Oh. That. Hurts. But I ignore it." Muhoshin shrugged and pressed his hand over his chest. Saotome winced as he saw ghostly flames illuminate Muhoshin's shirt briefly. "Before we talk," said Muhoshin, "sit." In a rush to get things wrapped up quickly, Ryo said, "please, if you'll just give me back the locket we ca-" "SIT." Muhoshin's dull expression was replaced suddenly by a psychotic glare. "We sit and talk or _else_..." Muhoshin's eyes calmly looked down to the floor, where his umbrella was aimed down and almost touching the ground. Then he looked around at the crowds all around them. Saotome frowned. He knew what Muhoshin was hinting at. After all, they both knew the technique, and he could see clearly that Muhoshin's umbrella was a centimeter away from an incredibly potent breaking point. "It's... somewhat crowded here, don't you think?" he asked. "Be a shame if... say... there was an explosion or two, if you know what I mean?" "Alright, I'll sit," said Ryo, trying to calm the other down. "Now wha-" "Order something. The Thai Tea here is very good." "But I tho-" "ORDER SOMETHING." Ryo waved over to the barkeep and ordered water. "I've ordered my drink, okay? Now let's talk ab-" "Good place, this," interrupted Muhoshin. "Huh?" "Haven't seen Ryouga all day. Erah, aHAHAHAHA... ah.. aHAH... ahem." The two Ryos examined each other, Saotome with alert, open eyes, and Muhoshin with slow, narrow eyed gazes. "So, what are we going to do?" asked Saotome. "Eh? What?" Muhoshin blinked. "Hm... well... good weather, nice cafe, beautiful people all around us. I suppose we should talk. I haven't a clue as to our topic, though." "I think I know," said Saotome. "I think you do too. This situation, the lockets, you, me. We need to talk." "I suppose so," said Muhoshin. He stared sadly into his drink, as if not quite pleased with the contents. "I've been thinking about this, you and me," said Saotome. "About what's going to happen to us in the end." "I know," said Muhoshin. "I dream the future sometimes. It's different every night. Sometimes I kill you. Sometimes you kill me. In the far future, or perhaps yesterday." Saotome nodded. "I... I just wanted to know that I'd made a genuine attempt to talk things over and avoid that fate." Muhoshin looked genuinely puzzled. "Oh?" "It doesn't have to be this way," said Saotome. The bartender brought Saotome's water him. He took a light sip, then put it aside. There was a long silence. The crowd chattered. The traffic outside flowed along slowly. Somewhere in the restaurant, a waitress dropped a glass. "It is that way," said Muhoshin quietly. He shrugged. "No it isn't!" protested Saotome. Muhoshin shook his head sadly. "Ever have just... a really bad day?" "Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything." "Never mind, never mind." Muhoshin finished the last of his drink and put the empty glass on the table. "There's no turning back, even for us." "You're not giving me a chance-" "Look at you," spat Muhoshin. "Everything about you reeks of heroism, idealism, and the belief of the inherent goodness of Ryouga." "What?" asked Saotome. Muhoshin blinked. "Man. Inherent goodness of Man." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing further. "I have blood on my hands, so much blood, but I don't have any regrets. Someone has to do this. If I won't, who? It's far too late. Do you understand?" "No, I don't," said Saotome. Muhoshin smiled, although he certainly didn't seem happy. "You will," said Muhoshin. "Before we're done, you'll have blood on your hands. Mine, yours, maybe both." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" hissed Saotome. Muhoshin ignored him and closed his eyes. "Perhaps... we can end this," said Muhoshin, eyes still closed. "How?" asked Saotome. "Your locket. Give it to me." "Why?" asked Saotome. "I don't care what you do in your own little corner of the realities," said Muhoshin. "Just stay out of my way, and I'll leave you alone." And leave Muhoshin free to murder across time and space? Not an option in Saotome's mind. "I can't do that." "Oh well," said Muhoshin, "can't say I didn't try the... aheh... nice way." "Muhoshin, listen," said Saotome. "I will," said Muhoshin, eyes still closed, "to the sound of victims." Saotome's eyes widened as he realized what Muhoshin was about to do. He lunged forward, but wasn't fast enough. Muhoshin's umbrella tapped the floor. A violent blast shook the cafe to its foundations. With a sweep of his hand, Muhoshin touched a cement pillar that was next to him, setting it off in another violent explosion of choking dust and deadly shrapnel. In Ryo Saotome's eyes, time slowed down. He saw it all in painful detail. The waitress, face cut by the flying debris, falling backwards and screaming. The bartender, absolutely confused, diving for cover. The people everywhere, rising from their tables and taking that first frantic step towards escape. Ryo Muhoshin laughed at it all and disappeared as a section of ceiling collapsed between them. Saotome caught the waitress as she fell and raced for the door. He almost made it. * * * * * "Hey, kid, you okay?" "Mmm." "Hey, wake up, c'mon." Ryo Saotome opened his eyes slowly. The sound of sirens and people barking orders frantically assaulted his ears. By his side, a medic was looking his scratches over. "What happened?" he asked. "The cafe collapsed on you," said the medic. "How're you feeling?" Ryo stood up slowly, despite the nagging aches he felt. "Hey! Don't move! You might aggravate an injury!" protested the medic. Ryo ignored him and stared at the rubble instead. "How many people?" "What?" "How many people got hurt?" he asked again. "Got about forty, including you, with moderate injuries, and five are in critical condition." Ryo clenched his fist. "Damn." He checked his jacket, then pulled out the silver locket. It wasn't glowing at all. Either Muhoshin ran far off, or he left this reality. He had to be stopped, by any means necessary. Muhoshin just confirmed his worst fears. He was beyond hope, beyond remorse. A killer. "'Scuse me, gotta go." "Hey! Yo-" The medic stopped protesting as Ryo hit a sleep pressure point. Ryo caught him and laid him down. "Sorry, I don't have time for this." A few blocks away in an empty alley, Ryo pulled out the silver locket and concentrated. A moment later, he was gone. * * * * * The final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of the day in Nerima. The students were celebrating this fact in their usual manners, be it a trip to the local hangouts, a friendly sports get-together, or one of a hundred different other things. One girl, in particular, was waiting for two other people to arrive. Miyabi paced around nervously, repeating the plan in her mind. They were going to go to Ucchan's, she'd _subtly_ get them to actually have a good time together, and things would grow from that. Gotta take that first small step before taking the big ones. That is, if they didn't back out from fear. Speaking of people backing out... "Dad! Hey! Over here!" Ranma winced and looked around, hoping that nobody noticed a girl was calling him 'dad'. "Hey, not so loud!" he hissed. "Why?" She pouted. "You're ashamed of me?" "No! Nothing like that," replied Ranma quickly, hoping to avoid making a scene. "It's just... you know... we're the same age, y'know? And people'll look at us funny with you calling me dad, so just don't yell it out like that, okay?" "Oh!" Miyabi grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, forgot." Very carefully, she reached into her pocket. There was a nearly inaudible 'click'. "I still don't see why the kawaiikunee tomboy and me gotta go to Ucchan's." "Do you like my shirt, Dad?" "Uh, yeah, Miyabi, your shirt looks real nice." He sighed and looked around, as if expecting something. "Where the heck is that tomboy?" "Anxious to get out of here?" asked Miyabi. "It's not like we're late or anything." "Yeah, well, we'd better take off before Kunou gets here." "You aren't afraid of him, are you, Dad?" Ranma smirked. "Kunou? Hell no! But the jerk's always trying to do something hentai. He just won't take a hint." "Oh hey, there's mum. Mum! Hey! Over here!" Akane cringed. * * * * * Classes in Furinkan were over for the day. Only two types of students weren't happy at this point. One was the hapless students that were stuck in detention. The other being the two Furinkan Students that stayed in Ucchan's all day. Why? "We don't have a plan!" yelled Ukyou. "Ranchan's heading home with Akane and we still don't have a plan!" Ryouga, who was never a great schemer to begin with, could only sit there and mull while Ukyou paced around anxiously. She really didn't like the way he was sitting there in non-activity. "Don't just sit there, think of a plan!" "I know, I know! I'm trying to think but nothing's happening!" "How very surprising," remarked Ukyou dryly. Ryouga frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Nothing, nothing, forget it." "Hey, you're calling me slow, aren't you?" Ukyou sighed and rolled her eyes up. "No, I'm not." This seemed to placate Ryouga enough. "Oh, okay." Need a plan need a plan need a plan... Ryouga spoke up first, much to Ukyou's surprise. "Okay, let's start from the top." "The top?" Ukyou's brow crinkled as she stared at Ryouga, who was now on his feet and began to pace around. This new, active, planning Ryouga took Ukyou entirely off guard. "One," he said, raising one finger, "You like Ranma." The illusion of a cunning and intelligent Ryouga was immediately shattered. "Um, yeah," said Ukyou flatly. "Two," continued Ryouga, "I l... l... I like Akane." Ukyou frowned. "You love Akane." "I... I love..." Ukyou glared at Ryouga. "Jeez, you can't even say it." "Yes I can!" said a miffed Ryouga. "Whatever. You don't have to try now." "I... I love-" "Sooooooo, this is where you two have been," said an all too familiar young man's voice. "I was wonderin' why the both of you skipped school." Ukyou winced. Ryouga winced. How, she wondered HOW could it be that such a stupid accident happen TWICE? It wasn't fair. "Um, aheh, hi guys!" said Ukyou, trying to look happy. "A-A-Akane!" Ryouga fumbled a bit, nearly knocking over a nearby table, then smiled nervously and laughed a bit. "W-what're you doing here?" * * * * * From Ukyou's perspective, the gathering at Ucchan's was going well. It was going _too_ well. Ukyou was observing how things were progressing, and they were progressing very badly. Oh, it wasn't depressing on anyone's part. They all talked about school, traded a few funny little personal anecdotes, and generally had a good time. Ranma was smiling. Akane was smiling. Occasionally, they were smiling at each other. This was WRONG. Ukyou had this really weird feeing that they were all being watched, but didn't have time for an additional aggravation. There were enough problems at the moment. Ryouga was no help. He turned to jello every time Akane smiled anywhere near his general direction. The worst part was, she couldn't think of a subtle way to nudge the conversation towards pairing up Akane with Ryouga and her with Ranma. The non-subtle ideas were worthy of Kodachi or Shampoo and involved a lot of glomping and attempted kisses. Ukyou was tremendously embarrassed to have those thoughts to begin with. She COULD be more violent about it, as Shampoo and Kodachi were, but that wasn't her style. No options. Damn. "... and so Hiroshi said, "what stick?" Get it?" Ranma laughed at his own joke, along with Akane, Miyabi, and Ryouga. It only served to bring Ukyou out of her reverie. She wished that someone would break up this happy-fest before she puked. "RANMA!" Oooh, waitasec, she knew that voice. "Shampoo hear you take Akane on date!" said the Amazon angrily, "You no fool around with other women!" Ukyou allowed herself a crooked, tired smile. Shampoo, the manic Amazon. That oughta break up this happy atmosphere. She looked at Akane and Ranma and that thought was quickly crushed. It seemed he had one arm almost around her, as if protectively, and she was leaning slightly towards him. She briefly wondered if now would be the time to get violent. "Ohohoho! Ranma darling, there you..." Ah. Kodachi. That would be violent enough. * * * * * "Ohohoho! Ranma darling, there you... you... oh my." The Black Rose was currently seeing red. Very red. When last Kodachi saw Ranma, he was under the spell of that evil harlot, the pig-tailed girl, forced to be in the form of an inferior man. The only way to for Ranma to return to his gallant, handsome, irresistible form once more was to.. well... The thought made Kodachi blush so, and send an electric shiver through her body as well. It was a shame to lose her virtue before the wedding night, but she would gladly sacrifice her body to her dear Ranma. Except it seemed that Ranma was once again his normal, dashing self, which was good. But why was he sitting next to that harridan Akane with his arm nearly around her unless oh no no no she DIDN'T Akane Tendo COULDN'T POSSIBLY HAVE no no no this can't be happening SOMEONE IS GOING TO HAVE TO DIE! "Akane Tendo, how DARE YOU sleep with MY RANMA!" * * * * * There was this loud, thundering, heart-stopping sort of utter silence. Ukyou stared at Ranma. Ryouga stared at Akane. Shampoo stared at Ranma and nearly dropped a bonbori. Kodachi was turning a particularly angry shade of red. Miyabi's next statement didn't exactly help with the situation. "You two shouldn't- I mean- It's too- I'm not supposed to be born yet and you might-!" "Waitaminute! Me an'the tomboy didn't do nothing!" protested Ranma. "I didn't do anything with this jerk!" yelled Akane. Of course, nobody believed them. "HOW DARE YOU GET AKANE PREGNANT, YOU JERK!" Ryouga grabbed Ranma by the shirt and shook him violently. "I'LL KILL YOU!" Ukyou's killer spatula sliced down and forced Ryouga to dodge back, releasing Ranma. "Don't you hurt him!" snarled Ukyou. She turned to Ranma with a really odd looking sort of smile that was as close to friendly as the stars were close to the ocean. "I'm gonna hurt him!" "Akane I KILL!" "OVER MY DEAD BODY, BIMBO!" "Get out of way, PIG-BOY! "DIE!" And thus, the First Destruction of Ucchan's began. * * * * * One observer, at least, enjoyed the chaos. Ratiko Hibiki couldn't remember the last time he was this happy. It was all falling into place. He had all the bases covered and soon, Ranma would be dead and the future would be saved! Hibiki Reiraku's future held death, destruction, and revenge and betrayal. He liked what he saw. How couldn't he? For the first time in his life, things were falling into place. His plans were going from point A to point B, without intermediate stops at C, D, aleph, omicron or enhe, and _no one_ suspected a THING. He'd made sure of that. All the bases were covered, and soon, so would Ranma - with a burial shroud. With the jock's demise, he reminded himself, his own birth was guaranteed. If he was lucky enough, maybe this time he wouldn't come back. Oh, yes, Rat was happy. Rat was incredibly happy. Rat was 'who cares where I am and who's watching, let's let out a long maniacal laugh and chortle mysteriously while we rub one hand over another' So he did - or tried to. "BWAHAW." "BWAHEHEHehehehe..." "HOO HOO HOO HUH huh..." "MUHA!" "MUA!" "MUAHAHA!" "MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He'd secretly wanted to do this for a long time, and he wasn't about to let a little thing like lack of practice stop him. If he had to rehearse his lunacy, so be it. "MUAHAHAHAHAHA!" he laughed at last, pleased with the end product of his patience. "Soon, Saotome... Soon I will have my... my... REVENGE! MUAHAHAHAHA! MUAHAHAHAHA! MUAHAHAHAHA! MUA-" "What," asked a voice from somewhere behind him, "is so funny?" Reiraku stopped his impromptu voice lesson and looked for the source. All he saw was a wide-brimmed hat and the hints of a dress poking from the shadows of an alley's archway. "Not funny," said Rat. "Joyous." He smiled. It didn't matter that he didn't know who he was speaking to; this was the first minute of his moment of triumph, and he'd be sure to mention that to anyone who'd listen. "Joyous?" The hidden speaker sounded dubious. "I will save the world, restoring it to its proper path, so that I may eventually be born to return and save it once more, and again, and AGAIN, AND AGAIN, for all of ETERNITY!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAheheh. Sorry." The shadows on the hat shifted as it tilted downwards. "You want to save the world so that you will be born?" "That's right." Rat beamed. "You ARE born. You're here." "But not conceived yet. I'm from the future." "The future?" "The future." Rat pause as he wondered what the Global Savior would have said under similar circumstances. Considering he would eventually be fit to bear the title himself, it was only proper that he emulate the great Blue Thunder's style. "The proper, one and only, real and true future. The future of Hibiki Reiraku! The future IS Hibiki Reiraku! I will, I... uh... er..." It seemed that a way with words was requisite for the Kunou Rant, and if there was one thing that Rat lacked, it was eloquence. "That's... about it, really," he concluded weakly. His audience was immobile. A slight breeze now and then brought bits of what seemed to be a dress into the light, but the rest of the figure, no matter how hard he squinted, remained disappointingly invisible. "Who are you?" he asked. "The past," answered the voice, and then stepped backwards, dissolving fully into the blackness. Rat was left alone with the breeze, his thoughts, and an echo that seemed to say, 'the once and proper past'. * * * * * No matter how many ways she looked at it, the gathering at Ucchan's was a disaster. Mum was yelling at dad. Dad was yelling at mum. Everyone was trying to kill mum or dad. Miyabi didn't understand. Nobody fell in love. She didn't think things were going well, not at all. She didn't think things would be this hard. She didn't recall being so emotional before. *sniffle* The yelling and the fighting became just unbearable. It hurt to see the ones she cared about the most like that. What else could she do but run away? She sat alone, in the park, feeling useless, helpless, angry, and tired again. Occasionally, she'd toss stones into the pond, but for the most part she just sat there and stared into the waters, as if there was an answer to be found in the ripples and tides. Stupid parents. Stupid uncles and aunts. Why was this happening? *sniffle* "Oh my." Startled, Miyabi looked up but was blinded immediately by the sun. Someone was standing above her but she could only make out a dark outline of a female shape, capped by a large sunhat. "Oh, hi," said Miyabi. She resumed staring glumly into the pond. The woman sat down a small distance next to Miyabi, her hat conveniently obscuring the view of her face, and proceeded to toss bread crumbs at a few nearby geese. Miyabi sniffled yet again. The mystery woman offered a tissue. "Do you need this?" she asked. Miyabi nodded and took it, then wiped her eyes. "Thanks." There was something... something familiar about that voice... but Miyabi couldn't quite tell what. It was definitely soothing. "Rough day?" the woman asked. Miyabi nodded. "It's... family stuff." "Not getting along with your parents?" "No, it's not that. They don't get along with each other." "Fight with each other all the time?" asked the lady. "Yeah, that's them," said Miyabi sadly. "Maybe you know them? Ranma and Akane Saotome?" "Oh, those two," the woman replied. "I wouldn't worry about those two if I were you. Deep inside, they really do love each other. They just don't like to show it to anyone else but each other." "They're sure fooling me," whined Miyabi. "Don't worry, everything will be all right." Somehow, in the way she said it, Miyabi almost believed that it would be okay. "Well, yeah, maybe." Miyabi drew her knees up to her chest and laid her head down. "I wish I was just as sure about the others too." "Others?" asked the woman. "Yeah. Uncle Ryouga and Auntie Ukyou, Auntie Nabiki and Uncle Tatewaki... they don't love each other and keep on getting in the way! In fact," she added, a look of amused disgust on her face, "Uncle Tatewaki is in love with my dad." "Well... you can either trust in fate to bring hearts together or..." "Or?" The lady's voice gained a surprisingly cold edge. "Do whatever you have to, whatever it takes to set things right. And if someone gets in your way... that's their problem. Never give up, Miyabi-chan, never give up." Miyabi's eyes widened in shock at the suddenly savage advice of this seemingly gentle and motherly figure. She slowly raised her head and shifted her gaze... "Ah..." ... and found herself alone. "Um... hello?" That's odd, she thought, I never told her my name. * * * * * Another time, another place... ... and lost again for Ryouga Hibiki. He wasn't sure where he was, which was what was usually the state of things, but it was definitely on a mountain. A very scenic, rocky, tall mountain. He was currently walking along a somewhat narrow rocky path, winding endlessly along the mountains and felt a small twinge of vertigo. The drop was very, very long, but the beauty of the view was well worth confronting the fear. One day, if the Gods were generous, one day he hoped to share these eternally beautiful vistas with Akane at his side. "Oh Akane... someday I'll... I'll... huh?" Whatever it was, it had a strange, supernatural beauty that blended with the clear blue skies and the pale snow-covered slopes around him. It was a small sphere of azure flame, flaring into existence slowly and flickering a few feet ahead of him and in the air. "What the..." Suddenly, the sphere roared into a giant column of azure flame, nearly blinding him. Ryouga lifted his arms and squinted, backing away carefully. And then the flame 'whoosh'ed into nothing. There was, however, a figure standing where the fire was a moment ago. "Ryouga Hibiki?" the figure asked. His vision clearing, Ryouga looked at the figure before him. It seemed like... er... sort of... not exactly... but an awful lot like... a somewhat insane... if better dressed version of... no... "Gosunkugi?" The figure winced and grumbled something about having a yen for every time he heard something. And then he suddenly lashed out with a black umbrella. Ryouga raised his own in defense, stopping its end a few inches short of his face. And then the blade popped out of the tip, reducing that distance to centimeters. "Hey! What are you doing?!" "Trying to kill you." The two clashed, Ryouga's powerful and massive umbrella vs. the other's swift and sharp one. It became clear after several minutes that, at least in wielding an umbrella, they were evenly matched. "Why are you doing this?!" shouted Ryouga. "What have I ever done to you?" His enemy remained silent and continued his relentless attack. * * * * * Ryo Saotome, accidental tourist of time and reality, continued across the universes, a streak of blue across all of creation, praying that the next reality jaunt would bring him one step closer to home. The next step was putting away Ryo Muhoshin. He didn't know how he was going to do that, though, since the locket couldn't teleport near enough to its other self and ruined the element of surprise at the same time. Once again, the blinding blue light flickered and faded around him like dying flames, leaving him in yet another world. And then the vertigo hit him like a freight train. "Whoa!" His yell echoed all around him, bouncing off valleys and mountains, and really emphasized the fact that he was ridiculously high in altitude. A hell of a view, a real killer, in fact. There were, however, disturbing questions that were beginning to nag him. The... Muhoshin cat had a point. He DIDN'T have his jacket when this whole adventure started. What did it mean? Was the locket more sensitive than he thought it was? Was he controlling it in a subconscious way? Truth be told, he had absolutely no idea. Maybe, he thought, he was worrying excessively? So he accidentally and unconsciously summoned his jacket. So what? He hoped that was the only thing he subconsciously summoned. The thought of Bell-chan yanked into another reality gave him a moment's chill. Right. Enough worrying. Time to get on with it and take the next step. Carefully, he held the locket up and moved it about until its supernatural glow increased. "Gotcha." * * * * * Umbrella met umbrella in a furious duel of skill that would seem ridiculous if it weren't for the fact that one umbrella had a blade at the end of it and the other was heavy enough to shatter a man's bones on impact. Muhoshin was enjoying this, very much so. The rush of combat, the thrill of danger. This Ryouga HAD to be the one. He was too damn hard to kill. "Why don't you just DIE!" he yelled, blade whizzing by Ryouga's neck, missing by a hair. "Shut up!" Ryouga countered with several deadly swings of his own umbrella, forcing Muhoshin back a few steps. And then there was an all too familiar burning in Muhoshin's chest. "No not now not now NOT NOW!" Unfortunately, this made him loose track of the fight. More importantly, he failed to notice Ryouga's umbrella heading straight for him. * * * * * As he ran towards the battle, the locket in his jacket pocket flared brighter. _Please let him not notice!_ He noticed. Muhoshin seemed to pause in the middle of the fight, taking a staggered step back while clutching his chest. Then Ryouga struck him solidly with a slash across the shirt. Muhoshin spun away, reeling from the blow, clutching his chest. * * * * * Ryouga stepped forward, umbrella in hand and ready to deal out the final blow in this duel. Whoever this person was, he was out to kill, and Ryouga took that seriously. He couldn't give him time to recover. His was staggering away, his back to everyone while clutching at his chest. Ryouga wasn't sure, but he thought there was an odd blue glow flickering from within the stranger's shirt. He also seemed to be talking to someone, although it certainly wasn't Ryouga. Talking to himself, perhaps? "Aagh... Saotome, you bastard... NOT NOW DAMMIT!" Saotome? Ryouga looked around and spotted an all too familiar pigtailed boy appeared from the ridge above, landing between Ryouga and his unknown assailant. "Ranma? What are you doing here?" "Who said I'm Ranma?" the pigtailed boy answered back. As he came closer, Ryouga got a better look. It wasn't quite Ranma, no. Almost, but not quite. "Who are you? What're you doing here?" Ryouga asked. "You can call me Ryo, and I'm here to put him," the Ranma-esque boy pointed at Muhoshin, "back where he belongs." Suddenly the Gosunkugi lookalike turned around and his wound was revealed to them both, a mild red gash above his stomach. That, however, wasn't what stopped them in their tracks. In his chest, seared into his flesh, was a locket burning bright azure flames. "Oh Lord," whispered the person-that-wasn't-Ranma-but-really- reminded-Ryouga-of-him, "what's happening to you?" 'Gosunkugi' glared at 'Ranma' with eyes blazing azure flame and burning hatred. "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! BAKUSAITENKETSU!" And then the entire mountainside came crashing down on them. Ryouga skidded down the mountain, using his umbrella as a shield as the mountain came crashing down on top of him. Finally, he reached the bottom of the mountain, still relatively healthy, but buried by tons of rock and debris. "Dammit, some way, somehow, I KNOW this is Ranma's fault!!!" Several massive shishi-houkoudans later, he managed to tunnel himself to the surface. Of the two other, oddly familiar yet definitely not Ranma and Gosunkugi persons, there was no sign. * * * * * [Look, Aman. It's the Asian babe again.] [So it is, so it is...] [Um. She's going to use the phone again.] [The one we just had replaced?] "Kunou baby, it's me againDON'TYOUDAREHANGUP!" "* Ah, the distant Nabiki Tendo. How fares thee?" "I fare in AFRICA, Kunou, now PLEASE get me a ride out of here?" "* Methinks I had best leave the situation as is, I do not wish to be accused of interfering in Tendo Family Business." "Kunou! I am covered with bug bites and the bugs that made them, I think the last bit of meat I had came from a dog, I don't dare walk down the street without a pistol, even with the pistol there have been five attempted robberies, two attempted rapes, and one attempted murder, the children keep making me pity them and give them money I can't afford, and to top it off I'VE GOT A SUNBURN! GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" "* It sounds very cultural." "CULTURAL?" "* Ethnic." "Kunou! GET! ME! OUT! OF! AFRICA!" "* Ah, that I can do." "Really? You can?!?" "* Certainly. I will rent the film for you as soon as you return. If you return. Good day." "Kunou? Kunou, DON'THANGUP... OH, $&*(!^%!" [Such language.] [I think she's awfully attractive when she smashes things to bits.] [All these phones are going to cost a lot to replace, Aman.] [Who cares? It's not coming out of my paycheck.] * * * * * Muhoshin walked swiftly out of the swirling blue disc, brushing strands of cerulean fire from his suit. It was getting to the point where the flames hardly hurt at all... well... no. They still hurt, painfully so. But it was getting to the point where the pain wasn't a bad thing. He was in a park, it seemed. Yeah. The one in Nerima. Muhoshin smiled; he had fond memories of many a pleasant mugging in this little corner of the city... Wait a minute. He'd only been here once or twice, and he certainly hadn't mugged anyone in here... Yes he had, right after he had been knocked out after the showdown at the bridge and lost his memory. Ryo frowned. He hadn't lost his memory, he had been whisked away by the Jansen woman and her harem of idiots. What had he been remembering? Damn, his head hurt. He massaged his temples. Ryouga. His fault. Kill Ryouga, make everything better. The REAL Ryouga. Not the cheap imitations. But you can't beat the real thing, tittered a little voice inside his head. Muhoshin snarled. He could too! He would have won! Angrily, he strode through the park, taking random swipes at squirrels and tree limbs with his umbrella. Time to get a bite to eat, kill this universe's Ryouga just on general principles, and move on. It was a harvest moon, he noted. Somewhere in the distance, a violin was being played. He scowled. Something about this place offended him. And then he emerged from a clump of trees, and saw the outline to two figures sitting on the park bench, kissing. Muhoshin felt a lump build in his throat. That's right, he'd come here with Miss Ami. His Ami. Or was her name Kaeri? Perhaps there was a Muhoshin and a Ami on the bench? He walked forward, and the gleam of the streetlights shone down on the couple. Ryouga and some girl. Kissing. Both slightly shy, but both obviously very enthusiastic about it. Muhoshin froze and watched, struck dumb by the unfairness of it all. The gall. Ryouga had killed his girl, then had not stayed dead, and then he had the nerve to steal his park and his girl and his moon and his violins. And then parade it in front of him. Well. If Ryouga wanted violins, violins would take place. Twirling his umbrella, he walked forward with swift and feline step. Justice. Revenge. Hibiki wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings. Oh, this was just too easy. Muhoshin pulled his arm back, and thrust. He was right. Ryouga wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything except the girl in his arms. The girl, however, was, and she screamed and tried to jump at Ryo. The bladed tip sped forward ..."I'm Akari Unryuu." "Er, Ryo Muhoshin. Charmed."... faster than he could possibly stop it ..."Look, I'm sorry. It was a mistake." "Taking me hostage was a mistake?" "I said I was sorry."... and the girl had managed to jump right in ..."Do you, Unryuu Akari, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "I do." "And do you, Muhoshin Ryo..."... front of the blade, and he watched as it slipped ..."Akari-chan, could you get me a cup of tea?" "Here you are, Ryo-chan. Oh... Ukyou is coming for lunch tomorrow." "Just as long as that husband of hers isn't."... effortlessly through her pink ruffled blouse ..."Push, dear, push!" "Ryo..." "Push.... oh my, is that the head? What's that stuff on it? Doctor, if this isn't normal and you don't fix it I'm going to cut off your..." "Ryo, hold my hand..." "'sokay, dear..."... and between her ribs, like a knife through butter ..."Daddy, why can't I play with Souji?" "He's a Hibiki, Ryori. They're degenerate." "Mommy, what does that mean?"... and her eyes bloomed and her pink dress turned ..."Dear, don't be that way." "If that boy lays a hand on her, I'm going to feed him his spleen. Right before I cut off his..." "Ryo-chan, you're being over-protective again." But dear, he's a HIBIKI!"... dark crimson, and she crumpled in a heap, the light ..."Grandchildren. Can't abide em." "You old boar, you love bragging to them about how you used to beat up their other grandpa." "And I wish you wouldn't call me that." "Really?" "No. Not really."... leaving her eyes, staring at him. Muhoshin reeled back, trying to understand what had just happened to him. "Akari?" he whispered, staring in horror at the body in pink. Ryouga was screaming something, kneeling beside her. Muhoshin just kept backing away. Oh, God, he killed her, he killed Akari... Who the hell was Akari? Why should he care? It was Ryouga's girl... Ryouga rose, gave an inarticulate shriek of rage, and charged. Muhoshin, in a daze, held out his umbrella, and Hibiki ran right into it. MY AKARI OH GOD OH GOD No, he'd never met her before in his life, no.... The locket flashed blue, and he screamed, and the park was empty of all save Ryouga. And his girl. * * * * * Dinner that night was strangely quiet. Of the time jumpers, only Miyabi and Ratiko appeared. Kasumi kept a place set for the others, however, just in case. Soun kept fidgeting in his seat, occasionally looking over his shoulder with an air of anticipation. And Kasumi... Kasumi was hovering over one of the empty places, which had a small vase of flowers by it. Akane frowned. That particular place was set with the best china, and the good silver. Who was Kasumi planning on seating... Wait a second. A quick count confirmed it. Kasumi had set one more place setting than there were reality travelers. "Er, Kasumi?" she asked hesitantly. "Who's seat is that?" Kasumi smiled at her, a nervous, giddy sort of thing that took Akane aback. "Oh. That's mother's place." Great, Akane thought worriedly. Kasumi was cracking under the weirdness. "Did you see her again?" Soun asked eagerly. Kasumi shook her head sadly. "See who?" Akane asked. Kasumi shot her the giddy smile again. "Mother. She's come back." "I saw her!" Soun babbled. "And she put a cold cloth on my head!" Ranma turned to his father and slowly spun one finger in a circle around his ear. Genma nodded. Akane just stared. "Oh, it's true, Akane," Kasumi hurriedly said. "I saw her leave the kitchen as I entered, and she had been cooking one of mother's recipes. And father says she was... scarred... like the accident would have.. oh dear." Her smile fluttered. "I think mother's ghost has come back to visit us." Across the table, Rat sank deeper into his seat and whimpered. "Ghosts. Not another ghost. Why does it have to be ghosts?" Miyabi, who had been fidgeting in her seat since the conversation began, finally decided to speak. "Um. This ghost... did she have a motherly voice, about Kasumi's height, wore and apron? Because if she did, then I think I've seen her too." "My dear sweet Kimiko's come back!" Soun bawled. Kasumi smiled nervously. Akane just blinked a lot. Ranma and Genma adopted dubious looks. * * * * * And through the window, Kaeri watched. People were eating, and talking, and some of them were smiling. That horrid little Reiraku person seemed uncomfortable. Except for the absence of Nabiki and the presence of Miyabi and Ratiko, it seemed so wonderfully normal. So much like the way things had been. Not that Miyabi was out of place. She's always wanted grandchildren, and she seemed like such a nice girl. Such a dear child... Kasumi passed Miyabi the salt, saying something as she did. Kaeri frowned slightly. Was the food good enough? She hadn't gotten to make dinner... Kasumi had interrupted her. She was supposed to make dinner. Her. Not this Kasumi. But wasn't Kasumi her? No. Kasumi was blind. Kasumi didn't SEE. There she was, happy and stupid and in HER place. That should be HER making dinner, HER smiling at Akane, HER family, HER life. What had Kasumi ever done to deserve it? Kaeri clenched her hands slightly, and crept off. * * * * * "So how are you enjoying school, Miyabi-chan?" "Oh, just fine, Auntie Kasumi..." "HEY!" Everyone stared as Ranma leaped from his seat, ran to the window, and peered out. Finally, looking a bit sheepish, he returned to his seat. "What was all that about?" Akane asked irritably. Ranma flushed. "I saw..." "Yes?" "I saw someone who looked like Kasumi lookin' in at us." "Kimiko..." Soun muttered happily. That was the end of the conversation for the rest of the meal. * * * * * Ryo Saotome appeared in the park in a flash of fire. Grimly, he surveyed the scene. No skinny silhouette under the dim lights, no Muhoshin lurking in the shadows. Just a bench, and a streetlight, and... And two bodies. Slowly, reluctantly, he walked closer to where the two crumpled figures lay in pools of crimson. As Ryo drew closer, he could see than one of them was a girl, about his age, in what had been a pink dress. Her eyes, open and glassy, stared unseeing at the harvest moon far above. The other corpse was Ryouga Hibiki. Damn, he thought, his fists clenching in grief and rage. This was becoming an all too familiar event. Muhoshin had to be stopped. Kneeling beside the motionless Hibiki, Ryo examined the wound. A single stab to the chest, probably puncturing the aorta. Odd. It was a rather clumsy spot to... Ryouga's eyes flicked open. Ryo managed to avoid yelping. Barely. The eyes closed again. "Ranma..." slurred the Lost Boy, a trickle of blood running from the side of his mouth. "Shoulda known... all your fault..." "Shh," Ryo said, quickly feeling for a pulse. "I'm going to call an ambulance. Save your strength." He found the pulse; weak, fluttering horribly, but still there. "'snot gonna get here... Akari... killed Akari..." The eyes shot open again, and a hand reached out to take Ryo by the shoulder in a painful grip. "Ranma... get him... he killed Aka... get 'im for me... Ranma.. all your fault, y'know..." The eyes closed, the grip loosened, and the pulse surged once and then vanished. Ryo stood, bowed once and then began to walk away. All his fault. Muhoshin had to be stopped, and himself alone wasn't enough. At best, he equaled 'Gosling', and he needed more than that. He needed to best him. Which meant getting help, like he should have done in the first place. Tears tricked down his cheeks. He had been too proud to admit that Muhoshin was more than he could handle alone, too confident, too egotistical. After all, if his father could go it alone, why not him? And Ryougas were paying the price the universe over. All his fault His, and Muhoshin's. The tears slowly stopped. Enough self pity for one day. The locket awoke to the command of his will, and flared as bright as the stars above. * * * * * "Are weeeee there yeeeeeet?" whined the tourist, for the tenth time. Nabiki gritted her teeth, tightened her grip on the machete, and gave the next clump of vegetation a particularly vicious slash. "It'll be while," she said in broken French. Sigh. French. Normally at this time of day she'd be lounging on the sofa with her laptop and a good spreadsheet program, maybe a nice iced coffee, and the Nikkei index. Instead, she was guiding a group of overweight Frenchmen though the Ethiopian jungle for a price that didn't even _begin_ to make up for the sheer wretchedness of it all. She was hopelessly lost, too., but that was only a minor inconvenience. Or so she kept telling herself. Hack. Slash. If nothing else, she was getting a hell of a workout. Not to mention welts along her arm from the underbrush, and several interesting species of insect that were taking up residence in her clothes and hair. She had long since ceased to notice the flies. The French were jabbering away in the rapid-fire dialect they used among themselves. Not a good sign. She cut away a particularly dense clump of jungle, and stopped dead. It seemed to be an altar or a shrine of some sort. Lots of plant-draped stone, and bas reliefs, and human skulls, and frescos of people doing highly advanced, inventive, and very unpleasant things to other people. She peered closer; what on earth were they doing to that guy in the upper left-hand corner... oh. Nabiki hastily looked away, and fought back a bit of rising bile. She did NOT need to know that, nonono. Whoever built that thing had NO regard for it's effects on tourism. "Look, Marthe! My Nikon!" "Oooo, John-Pierre, look at that!" "I wonder if the tour guide has postcards of it?" On the other hand... Nabiki pulled out a handkerchief from her shirt and mopped the sweat off her forehead. She had promised them native culture, and this was... well... she supposed you could call it culture. Now all she had to do was find her way back to the city, and... "Nobody move." Slowly, Nabiki looked up at the two dozen guerrillas training guns on her and her tour group. There went her profit margin, she mused glumly. * * * * * Miyabi knew that her Aunt Nabiki was the most technology-oriented member of the family, and was hoping that she had some sort of audio editing equipment in her room. She was pleasantly surprised to find something that resembled a small recording studio tucked away in a corner of the middle Tendo sister's desk. Complete with distortion effects, clarity focus, damper-recil focusing... Boy, she thought to herself, I never knew Auntie Nabiki was such a recording buff. So much the better for her purposes. The tiny cassette recorder she had secreted on her was filled with conversation from Ranma and Akane. All of it, of course, was completely innocent. She selected a worn, scratchy tape as her template. Despite the unexpectedly high quality of Nabiki's equipment, she wanted something with poor sound quality to cover up the splicing she was about to do. Taking out the cassette recorder, she began to skim through it. "*I still don't see why the kawaiikunee tomboy and me gotta go to Ucchan's.*" "*Do you like my shirt, Dad?*" "*Uh, yeah, Miyabi, your shirt looks real nice.*" *tttt* "*...yeah, well, we'd better take off before Kunou gets here.*" "*You aren't afraid of him, are you, Dad?*" "*Kunou? Hell no! But the jerk's always trying to do something hentai. He just don't take a hint.*" *ttttt* "*How's the food, Ranchan?*" "*Mmmmmm. Aaaah. Very good.*" Miyabi smiled. Ten minutes later, she rewound her template and hit play. "Akane you kawaii tomboy, take off your shirt and let's do something hentai together." Hmm. Not bad. Now to do her mother's dialogue. Ten more minutes later... "Oh! yes Ranma, please undo my top button for me. Come to my arms." "Let me touch you there Akane. Mmmmmm. Aaaah. Very good." This was almost too easy. * * * * * "Oh, yes Ranma, put your hand in my ooooooooh...." "Help me out of my pants, Akane." Miyabi frowned. While she had managed to construct an approximate half hour tape of her parents making out, she was missing certain key bits of Akane's dialogue. There were certain things she needs Akane to say, and she didn't have the pieces to construct them on tape. Unless she could come up with a way to fake it, her scheme to dissuade the other fiancees might be over before it even started. She sighed. Maybe that was for the best. Her parents had raised her to be a honest, honorable person, and she didn't think that they'd be thrilled to know that their daughter was putting together a fake tape of them being... affectionate. The fact that the voices on the tape were teenagers was all that was keeping her from blushing madly every time she listened to it. As it is, she still felt wrong. Miyabi shook her head. Getting her parents together was more important than any little moral qualms, and the first and most important step was the get the other suitors to give up. "Now where am I going to find someone who sounds like Akane?" she muttered, clenching her fists in frustration. Nabiki didn't really sound like her sister, and neither did Kasumi... Wait a minute. She quickly rewound the tape, and held it up to her mouth. "Testing." She played the test. Then she played one of the taped bits of Akane. Okay, their voices weren't a _perfect_ match. But recorded from a distance, and on a scratchy tape... Miyabi sounded enough like Akane to fool the listener. She smiled. This was her chance to have Akane speak whatever dialogue she wanted. Resetting the equipment, she got to work. * * * * * Kasumi blissfully cleaned the upstairs hall, humming to herself as she did. In truth, a lot of the blissfulness was feigned. The appearance of several trans-dimensional relatives had strained even her sense of normality, and the events of today had come close to making her lose her composure. In fact, one of the reasons she was cleaning the hall at this time of night was in the vague hope that her mother's ghost would appear again. Kasumi had a lot of things she wanted to ask her mother, and... well... she missed her. Besides, cleaning was the purpose of life. That, and cooking and tidying. "Ooooooh, Ranma..." Kasumi blinked, and examined the door to Nabiki's room with what someone who knew Kasumi would call a curious stare, but which anyone else would call a absent glance. * * * * * Miyabi winced. Forcing herself to do this was proving harder than she thought. The things she was saying were downright... incestuous. Not, she firmly reminded herself, that _she_ was saying it. It was just like reading a part in a play. A play in which her character was coming on to her father, but a play nonetheless. Courage, she told herself, and turned on the tape recorder once again. "Let me put the condom on you, Ranma. It'll be more fun for both of us." She clicked off the tape recorder, blushing madly. "I can't believe..." * * * * * "...believe I just said that to my own father. Oh well, back to work." Kasumi blinked at the door. Her look had reached what would be mild interest for a normal person, but for her was the equivalent of a full-blown face-fault "*giggle* Help me out of my bra... wait, are you sure no-one's around? You know we have to keep this a secret..." That was Miyabi's voice, all right. Oh my. Kasumi resolutely turned away from the door and resumed her cleaning. If mother materialized tonight, she was going to ask her for advice on this one. * * * * * Stealthily, quickly, Kaeri crept up the stairs to the upper hall. It wouldn't do to have anyone see her yet. She still had things to do before she could settle down and bake cookies again. She frowned slightly. Kasumi was already doing the cooking. They didn't really need her for that anymore... although... maybe Kasumi would leave eventually? Go away, and never come back? Become Mrs. Ono, perhaps? A long time ago, before they all died, she had thought about marrying Tofu. Now... Kaeri wasn't sure. It seemed she had lived her life in a blind, dreamy haze, and things looked different now. Not better. Certainly not better. But different. She had considered Tofu for a husband because he was such a dear, funny man. Those no longer seemed to her to be positive things. But at least he took good from bad. He make Akane better when she was hurt. He could be dear and silly if he wanted. Kaeri sighed, a little regretfully. Better that he stay dear and funny and silly and completely blind. Better that they all stay that way. She would stand guard over them. Entering the hall, she went immediately to the closet in which she kept her cleaning supplies. Kasumi's cleaning supplies. She frowned slightly. Hers. But, upon opening the door, she found that the bottle of Windex was on the bottom shelf instead of the top. She always put it on the top. Kasumi's cleaning supplies. She stood in the closet door for a few seconds, hands balled tightly into fists, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then she took the bottle of Windex and carefully placed it on the top shelf where it belonged, desperately ignoring the faded ring in to bottom shelf that made it perfectly clear that the bottle had been sitting on it for years, if not decades. Enough of that. Bending down, she carefully removed a section of the closet wall, feeling a certain sense of relief as she did so. Nabiki, her Nabiki, well they were ALL her Nabiki but.... she shook her head to clear it. Back before they died, Nabiki had placed her journals and notebooks in a secret cubby in the closet. Mostly secret. It was HER closet after all, and Nabiki had failed to take any sort of precautions whatsoever to keep her from finding it. After all, she was just happy happy stupid Kasumi. Kaeri smiled absently. Nabiki-chan was always so very well informed, and information was something she could use right now. Muhoshin-san had done his best to inform her, but he didn't really know most of these guests very well. The top notebook, a spiral-ring tablet, bore a simple label: [Hibiki, Reiraku (Ratiko)]. Tied to it by a strand of twine was a bit of cloth. She opened it to the first page, and a folded sheet of paper slipped out, floating to the floor. A quick perusal of it revealed it to be a list of the reality jumpers, with their names and heritage given next to a description. After scanning and committing the paper to memory, Kaeri turned her attention back to the notebook. The first page of the notebook listed Ratiko's mannerisms. The second contained speculations and cross-references with the Jansen woman. And the third told Nabiki's speculations regarding the scrap of cloth and a vial of blood that had been found with it. Nabiki had been unsure about that they meant, but seemed pretty certain that he intended to hurt and frame somebody. And she was positive that he didn't want anyone to know what he was doing. Kaeri closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She was obviously going to have to talk about this with Reiraku. And then she turned the page, and there was Nabiki's recital of the history of the world of 2096. Happosai summoned a demon and it killed Ranma.... And Akane took a knife and killed Happosai and jumped off a bridge and they buried her next to Ranma... And Ukyou went mad and destroyed and wrecked and they took her to a hospital AGAIN and it didn't do any good AGAIN and she never came out AGAIN... And something happened to Kasumi which made Tofu a little sad and Nabiki died AGAIN in a bomb and then it started getting really unpleasant... NO NO NO NO NO NO After a time, she noticed the blood welling up from the cuts her nails were digging in her palms, and unclenched her fists. She stared at the notebook blankly. She had thought it was almost over, but it wasn't. No, no, not even close to being done. Always Work to do, Work to do, must keep them happy and safe and alive... She stood, tucked the notebook and vial into her apron, and exited the closet. She would find Reiraku, and drag the truth from him. "Mother?" Kaeri spun. In the shadows at the end of the hall was a familiar figure in a familiar apron. Herself. Kasumi smiled, beamed, glowed with happiness. "Mother, I always knew you were watching over us. I hope I've done well. I cook for them, like you used to, and I take care of them like you did...." Yes, just exactly like me, Kaeri thought, something odd rising up inside her. "...and do the floors and dishes... I know I can never really replace you, but..." It was too much. "That's right!" she spat, fury engulfing her like a wave, "You can't! You'll never be what I was! You are blind! Lazy! You don't take care of them! You don't SEE! You're happy and stupid and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!" Kasumi stared at her in blank disbelief, the smile crumpling, one eye beginning to twitch slightly. Turning, Kaeri stormed off down the stairs. Reiraku. She would find him and pull the truth from him. Kasumi remained standing there for a long time after she had left. * * * * * The day had been exhilarating for Reiraku. Exciting, thrilling, joyous (can't forget the joyous, not after THAT strange meeting), but also tiring. The thought of a ghost running around Saotome's house made it unwise to spend the night there, so he decided to go elsewhere for his repose. Yawning, he made his way to an isolated park he'd noticed on the way to the school, ended up back in the Tendo dojo, gave up, and curled up in one of the unoccupied beds for a nice, long sleep... * * * * * It was high noon where the two representatives met, in a hut just off a supposedly abandoned airstrip in Chad. Not that there were only two people present. Each had brought an assortment of gun-toting bodyguards, thugs, and individuals skilled in offensive chiropractory. Although neither party was expecting any trouble, bodyguards were in this part of the world what clothing was in Japan; unless you had them around you, nobody took you seriously. The two negotiators exchanged wary nods. "Armand." "Miss Tendo. Do you have the money?" "You'll be paid. Do you have the merchandise?" Armand rubbed his bristly chin with a air of studied indifference. "I do. Fifty rocket-propelled grenades, Italian. Three hundred and five AK-47 rifles, Russian. Ten ground-to-air missiles, man-portable, American. Two hundred side arms, assorted. One hundred antitank land mines, East German. One tactical thermonuclear weapon, Russian..." "We didn't order one of those." "You didn't?" "No." "I'll throw it in as a freebie." "Fine. Let's see the merchandise." The arms dealer gestured, and several large crates were brought forward. The tops were removed, and the lethal contents revealed to the dim light and waiting thugs. Inside was the downfall of nations, the harbingers of riot, screams, and madness. The very worst of humanity. "'Barney and Friends Meet The Care Bears'? VIDEOCASSETTES? What the hell are you trying to pull?" Purpling, Armand turned to his guards. "Idiots! The OTHER crates!" The offending boxes were removed, and new ones set in their place. Everyone noted with relief that they contained perfectly inoffensive grenades, automatic weapons, and a small nuclear device. "Well? Good stuff, eh?" Armand asked hopefully. Nabiki shrugged. "No clue. Ali, check them." A burly man, seemingly put together with extra helpings of muscle and no neck, pushed his way to the crates. He lifted guns, peered down barrels, fiddled with clips, and calibrated the uranium fission capacitor assembly. Finally, he grunted. "Guns good. Nuke good. Grenades a bit funny." Armand frowned. "Those are perfectly quality, mon ami." "Something funny. And Ali, not Ami," snarled the thug. Sensing the growing tension, Nabiki raised a hand for quiet. "Gentlemen. There's a simple way to settle this." Taking a grenade from the crate, she pulled the pin and tossed it to Armand, who caught it reflexively, shrieked, and threw it out the window. Seconds later, an explosion rocked the hut. Nabiki shrugged. "Well. They seem to work just fine." Moving into a shadowed corner of the room where the wetness on his crotch wouldn't be spotted, Armand began to cough politely. "Gesundheit." "Bless you." "Got a cold?" "Hot chamomile tea, that's the thing for a sore throat." Armand frowned, and coughed more emphatically, holding out his hand in the universal gesture of 'gimme'. "Well, I mean, I haven't got a cup on me..." "I got some of them cough drops." "The Celestial Seasonings kind? Oooo, those are good." "Grandpa always said to put butter on a sore throat." The arms dealer sighed. Nabiki smirked. "The money, eh?" A briefcase was brought out. It contained money. The money was counted. "A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Tendo. Viva the revolution." *click*click*click* "These are counter-revolutionaries, baka." Sweating noticeably, Armand smiled at the guerrillas. "Of course. Viva the counterrevolution, er, um." Fake smiles from everyone. The thugs were all beginning to get tired of the nice-nice crap, and wanted to shoot something. "Nice doing business with you, Armand-baby. Be seeing you." Nabiki turned to go, her bodyguards warily following her out. She smiled, inwardly, as the jeep took the road towards El Amandral. The deal she had just closed had earned her half of the cash for her trip home. The radio crackled. "*Foxtrot Bravo?" "Sure, Colonel. You can shoot them down now." "*Delta Tango." "You're welcome." And that had just made her the _other_ half. Plus a little extra. * * * * * Rat was confused. That wasn't in itself unusual, except that his confusion usually had to do with stepping into the washroom for a quick shower and ending up in the middle of a Zanzibarian marketplace. This particular confusion was of an entirely different nature, and consisted in trying to figure out exactly why he was currently being very tightly gripped by a clothing-impaired nubile young woman upon what appeared to be a glow-in-the-dark waterbed, while rows of chickens watched from grandstands set up around the bioluminescent mattress. He noticed a few roosters in the front rows were smoking cigars. While his anonymous partner continued stroking his sides rhythmically and exciting muscles he didn't know he had, Reiraku thought. This was a difficult exercise, especially considering that whenever she touched him there... and There, and especially THERE, it brought back memories of those Halloween pranks in first-year Gross Anatomy, and a rather pleasant evening with a rather frigid woman. It'd taken him a while to figure out that his date for the night had been late in more than one respect, but that didn't change matters - in any case, the current physiological situation was distracting him from logical causational reasoning, so the best he could do was remember that some time ago... Say, a minute? he'd been trying to get to sleep, and some time later - NOW - he was performing sordid acts in front of voyeuristic farm animals. "Where... do you come from?" he asked his partner. She didn't look up, but only lifted her moist lips slightly from his inner thigh long enough to sultrily whisper, "From you, of course." Old Faithful spewed red from the middle of Rat's face. "I mean... ah... er... ah... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... erk. I mean, who.. ah... are you?" This was all very enjoyable, but he figured he'd better get this straight. He WAS in the past, after all, and a little something like becoming his own grandfather could become rather troublesome. The girl looked up. Rat gulped. "Nabiki?" A half-smirk on her part, with a mollifying twinkle in her eyes. "Who else, Ratty baby?" "You never seemed so... forward..." The chickens clucked wildly, upset that the show had been interrupted. "Or exhibitionistic." "What can I say? You turn me on." She lifted her leg, the waterbed wobbling while she performed the necessary contortions, and shoved the sole of her foot in front of his face. It had a switch on it. "Excuse me, did you know your foot has a lever in it?" "Yes." "But..." "Flip the switch." "I'm sorry?" "Turn me on. Weren't you listening?" "Oh." Rat flipped the switch. The next few minutes could be described as dirty, obscene, perverted, grotesque, artistic, surreal, demented, or physically impossible unless you are a thirty-two-dimensional being equipped with six arms, three legs, and more orifices than a strainer. The chickens were happy, and so was Reiraku. "Wow," he said at the conclusion of their act. That pretty much summed it up, really, so he said it again. "Wow." A few dogs dressed like nurses walked over to the bed and started poking needles into him in preparation for a blood transfusion. He barely noticed - that kind of thing had gone on for too long in his childhood and preliminary internship for it to cause any sensation but indifference. What he paid more attention to was the mischievous smile on Nabiki's face. "You're a dream, lover-boy." "No, Nabiki. YOU are." She laughed. "Your performance was sterling,