It was the start of summer break when Ranma Saotome was cornered by two of his friends and told that they had the perfect place in mind to get him away from home. They gave him a sales pitch touting rest, recuperation, and general fun.

When he asked what the catch was and how much it was going to cost him they said he wouldn't have to pay a dime. Apparently all he had to do was be nice to everyone around him, especially Akane, for an entire week. Ranma didn't quite understand what any of that had to do with the trip, but Hiroshi made it very clear that it was very necessary.

The price was right and it had some honest appeal since they painted a pretty picture about a city just southwest of Tokyo called Shizuoka that was out along the coast, but he was suspicious. It couldn't be that easy.

They said the plan had the "Tendo Nabiki Seal of Approval" and that Cologne had a hand in planning it out as well. When he asked for details and offered to help flesh out the plan he was told flat out that it wasn't happening. Hiroshi and Daisuke had this weird idea that the more clueless he was the more effective it was going to turn out in the end.

Ranma had to admit that he found it a little annoying to be thought of as a hindrance, but he was wholly willing to play along just to prove that they were all completely wrong. Then they'd have to beg him to come up with an alternative plan.

A week later an odd sequence of occurred that sent the girls in his life scurrying off on an adventure to find a rare flower that didn't do anything for a rare condition that he didn't have and just like that his vacation began.


Synnecrosis Chapter 1 - Wandering Shadow

Disclaimer: The characters and setting of Ranma 1/2 belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Kitty, and Viz Video.

Fate/Stay-Night is the property of Kinoko Nasu, Type-Moon, Kadokawa Shoten, Studio DEEN, and Geneon Entertainment.


Ranma had never actually visited the city of Shizuoka itself, but he did pass by it a few times during his training trip with his father. It was four hours outside of Nerima by train with only a single stop made in a tiny hot spring town called Atami, but it was everything promised and not just some fancy talk.

"Now, Saotome, tell me that isn't a money shot right there," Hiroshi proudly proclaimed. The scenery outside the window was framed like a pretty picture. There were mountains with big trees on one side, with the clear blue ocean beaches on the other, and Mount Fuji was more than just a tiny muffin top on the horizon like you d see back in Nerima. It was huge, looking like it did on all those postcards and... it was all just too nice.

"Why go to all this trouble?" Ranma finally asked.

Hiroshi and Daisuke shared a look, synchronized tilting of their heads, and then finally a shrug before finally Hiroshi answered with a question of his own. "Do we really need a reason?"

"I guess not," Ranma conceded, feeling like a heel for having questioned them like that. Truthfully he couldn't shake this weird sinking sensation that bothered him. He felt like he was being setup for a good old fashioned screw job.
It might have been pessimism talking, but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It just had to. A trip like this to such a nice place with no strings attached? He had been a part of enough shady dealings with his father and Nabiki to know that the fan was spinning and all set to make a big mess.

Ranma would be quick to admit that he wasn't necessarily book smart, but he was street wise. People always had a reason for the stuff that they did. Some with good intentions and some with bad, but there was always some kind of gimmick involved and the trick was to figure out the motivation - so what was the goal here?

Since it was Hiroshi and Daisuke he was dealing with there was a good chance that it was going to be some half-baked scheme to hook up with some girls using "Ichano Nijo's: Tactics" which was some kind of book on dating and romance they recently picked up. In his opinion it would be re-titled, "How to get rejected in embarrassing ways until you hide in your hotel room and make your friend have fun on his own," because that's how he imagined things would play out.

With the nice weather and all the water that was laid out in front of them it was a simple, clean answer that made sense. As cautious as he was Ranma should've known better. It was *never* the simple answer when dealing with anyone from Nerima and the welcoming committee that greeted them when they got off the train was a sign of that.

"What the heck is all this?" Ranma asked as he eyed the small group of people standing anxiously at the platform.

"Don't worry about it. It's a welcoming committee," Hiroshi told him.

"Yeah, kind of like when you get off the airplane in Hawaii and you get greeted by a hot hula chick that gives you a flower necklace and a smooch," Daisuke added with a leeringly, faraway look.

For someone used to going to places by swimming across oceans or hitchhiking on the top of a train like Ranma it was like being a movie star or high profile athlete. It was weird, but he figured if this was what normal travelers experienced then he supposed it made sense. Their bags were loaded into a van headed to their hotel and they were given a gift bag of assorted complimentary goods.

While playing the part of meat in a human sandwich between Hiroshi and Daisuke, Ranma noticed that they passed numerous signs and advertisements announcing a "Street Performance World Cup!" that was set to take place in town.

"It's too bad that I'm not a huge fan of soccer," he remarked, offhand. The comment earned him a lot of stunned looks from the staff and nervous apologies from Hiroshi and Daisuke issued on his behalf.

"Please forgive him," Hiroshi said while nervously squirming in his seat and shooting his partner a panicked look.

"Yes... uh, I'm afraid my friend here was raised on the road. No sense at all and humor like a barbarian," Daisuke said. He whispered pleadingly to Ranma that he'd explain later.

So it was under the lights of dubious stares and much head shaking that Ranma was told about an annual weeklong event where performers from different countries got together in Shizuoka to entertain people with magic tricks, singing, juggling and other shows with prize money going to the top three groups worth $3,000, $5,000, and $35,000.

The challenge alone sounded kind of neat (and the money wouldn't be so bad either) so Ranma wasn't too angry with being deceived to this point. Plus he now had them in his debt so he might be able to somehow spin this to his advantage like Nabiki always did for herself. Besides it was really hard to say no when all the paperwork was already filled out and all the hoops were jumped through a month before they'd even left Nerima.

His answer might've been different had he known that they got the okay from the committee during screening because they were determined to figure out the trick behind a submitted video clip that showed a young man turning into a pretty girl and then back again with just some water.


Today was just the second day of the festival where the much anticipated "Aqua Magic with Hiro and Dai" ended in a literal blaze of glory. Poorly thought out pyrotechnics, water, and a wardrobe malfunction made "Mistress Nipple Slip" very, very popular with the fans. If the hundreds of flashbulbs were any indication it would remain memorable for years after the fact in ways that Ranma didn t even want to think about. Luckily the threat of unspeakable violence on his self-appointed managers hammered home the point that there would never be an encore.

What made it worse was that two of the competition rules got violated and got them disqualified right off the bat. The judges said that not only did they endanger the spectators with the fire, but that Ranma was responsible for "disclosing private body parts" when it wasn't even by choice or design. It ultimately fell on deaf ears and by that point Hiroshi and Daisuke threw in the towel and began selling pictures of Ranma's female form during and after the performance as commemorative souvenirs, which broke yet another of the five competition rules about profiteering and was the token nail in the coffin.

"A total disaster," Ranma commented before he groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He lounged against the windowsill of the room they were staying in and imagined how winning would have been nice, but with how things usually went in his life he hadn't banked on it.

What s done was done and there was no helping it now. Though that didn't mean that forgiven also meant forgotten either as both Hiroshi and Daisuke had a laundry list of things they d be doing on his behalf before they were off the hook. That he had a pair of "go-fers" was convenient since he was now recognized in either form, which made going out during the day a real hassle. If their accommodations had been nicer it might have made it easier to deal with.

"Yasujima Paradise" was anything but what the name implied. It was a hotel dolled up with tacky Island themed junk that made him think of Principal Kuno, which was just downright creepy. He kept thinking various objects like the coconut-shaped lamps were going to explode in his face and that the palm-tree sprouting weirdo would show up saying it was time for a surprise haircut.

Aside from that the place was just nice enough to not be called a total dive. To be fair though, it was a small miracle in itself that Daisuke managed to finagle lodgings when all he had to work with was a shoestring budget funded by unemployed teens that begged, borrowed, and scrounged what they could. There were certainly worst places he'd stayed in during his training trip, but that wasn't meant as a compliment either. The other guests called the place the "Leaky Tiki" with good reason - because it fit to a T.

"Are they here yet?" Ranma glanced over his shoulder to the guy who spoke up. He was Daisuke's friend who he didn't know very well. He was sitting in the corner texting with a Hanshin Tigers baseball cap worn crooked on his shaved head. He wore shades on all occasions, even at night, and had no volume control at all. The guy couldn't whisper if his life depended on it. Ranma referred to him as Noisy Tiger since it was easy to remember.

He was one of three additional members that joined them a few days after Hiroshi, Daisuke, and Ranma arrived in Shizuoka. They were all recruited to be a part of the stage crew, which Nabiki had somehow arranged with their respective club advisors as gaining practical experience. It was yet another tally in the point column tracking the shrewdness of Nabiki Tendo.

The next person in the group was Mumbles who tended to keep to himself. Prickly and grouchy with a bowl-shaped haircut and weird M-shaped eyebrows, he mumbled whenever Ranma greeted him and seemed to glare at him a lot for whatever reason. He knew his way around the stage equipment though so he had some uses.

"Y-yeah, we n-need snacks and be-bev- d-drinks," the youngest guy in the group chimed in with a nervous stutter. Ranma had yet to hear the guy's real name except that everyone here called him Guinea Pig.

The kid had this weird habit of mixing together different vending machine drinks into a single concoction. He was friendly though, which was a plus, but come on now - sweet red bean, coffee, and melon yogurt milk? It was a page right out of his fiancee, Akane Tendo's, cookbook. Before he could really get started on reliving indigestible memories the gentle flicker of bulbs as strings of light and lanterns started to turn on one by one.

For the people on ground-level it was probably too early for them to really appreciate the sight since it was that weird time of day when it wasn t either dark or bright outside. Late afternoon was giving way to early evening where darkness and light blended together much like the hodgepodge of vendors, entertainers, and curious onlookers were doing in the streets. People were forced to walk intimately in the confined spaces as they made their way to the three big stages setup in Sumpu Park to host the top acts.

Ranma managed to pick out Hiroshi and Daisuke in the crowd. They were being bounced around like pinballs as they tried to cut a path through to the hotel's main entrance. The ragged pair pulled free after much effort and he knew it wouldn't be long before they made their way up to the room. "Looks like dinner is on the way up," Ranma announced, which earned various degrees of enthusiastic responses from the others.

A short while later the sound of an electronic key-card being swiped preceded the entrance of a tired, grinning pair bearing shopping bags from the local convenience store. "You should all get down on your hands and knees in thanks that we braved the wilds to return with these bountiful treasures," Hiroshi stated, while dumping the bags contents onto the table. Daisuke nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Don't d-draw short s-straws t-then," Guinea Pig suggested, which garnered him dirty looks from the pair, but chuckles from everyone else.

"Oh, we don't intend to, gentlemen," Hiroshi said in confident tones. "Because we have a new system in mind, right, Dai?"

"Indeed."

"So," Hiroshi drawled, drawing in the attention of each of the room's occupants with an odd glint. "How about we decide tomorrow's snack runners with a nice friendly card game? We can even throw in some cash to spice things up."

"No way is that happening!" Ranma said firmly. "I'm putting my foot down on this issue you guys and I mean it!"

And so it was without much surprise that twenty minutes later saw Ranma holding a set of playing cards after a questionable Democratic process and a heavy dose of peer pressure citing manliness was observed. He stared once again at the cards in his had hand, willing them to somehow change his fortunes.

Daisuke as the dealer looked at Ranma sympathetically. "Your move is up, Mister Saotome. No stalling, please."

The players to his right and left gave him measured looks, which he felt inclined to return in kind with his own. Ranma felt a bead of sweat break loose from his hairline and run down his cheek. He felt boxed in by the tight quarters of the room and even more so by the fierce pressure his friends were exerting. He momentarily dropped his eyes to his cards and when he looked back up he was met by five disturbing grins that reminded him of his father.

"So what's it going to be, Saotome?" Hiroshi prompted.

His tongue suddenly dried up in his mouth and it became a struggle against his own body to form the words he wanted. There was a nagging voice in his head that reasoned that this was like selling himself for a bowl of rice, two fish, and a pickle.

"I'm in," he finally declared. The fact that cheering followed it was probably a bad sign.

"I've got a pair of Jacks."

"T-two pairs f-for me."

"Suck it, Pigtails, I've got Three Queens!"

"FULL HOUSE IS IN THE HOUSE!"

There was a pregnant pause as the attention turned to Daisuke and Ranma who had yet to announce their respective hands.

"I've got a Royal Flush." Daisuke enunciated the last two words with nerve fraying deliberateness and then ended it by mimicking the sound of a toilet. A chorus of groans accompanied a hail of cards flung at him in disgust.

Ranma didn't bother flipping over his cards choosing instead to squint owlishly at his so-called comrades. "I hate you all."

"What, you're not even going to give us a peek at your hand?" Hiroshi asked, feigning hurt.

"I'll show you the knuckles on it," Ranma replied, grouchily and shook his fist in a threatening manner that earned him nervous chuckles.

"Now, don't be like that. Maybe your luck will change with this next hand. You could go on a hot streak and win it all back with interest." Daisuke shuffled and handled the cards one-handed like a pro, which should have rung warning bells in the pigtailed boy's head.

"I don't know," Ranma said. Finally some justified uncertainty crept into his voice, which coincidentally sounded like the pitiful moans of a wounded wildebeest to the hungry lions in the room. A quick mental check of the cash left in his wallet made the more logical part of his mind whimper.

"Well, we wouldn't want to pressure you," Hiroshi said.

"Most definitely not, and if you want to pull out now, that's cool," Daisuke smoothly carried on.

"I mean, this is just a friendly game after all," Hiroshi said solemnly. "There's no shame in bowing out, right?"

Ranma felt the word "shame" echo mockingly in his skull, and the collection of five sympathetic nods he received was rocket fuel to his flagging competitive fire. Common sense looked away in shame as Ranma slapped down more cash.

"That's the spirit of a true winner. You have to lose money to make money," Daisuke commented, not believing his own words for even a second. He dealt out the cards with a rueful shake of his head, as Ranma scooped each card up greedily like a starving rat would crumbs.

Each player picked up their cards and made the necessary swaps to get their final hand until it was finally Ranma's turn - or it would have been if he were not staring up at the ceiling with his attention not even on the game. The assembled players stewed in an awkward silence as shrugs and confused glances were passed between them.

"This is the Earth calling Planet Ranma," Daisuke prompted with his hands pinching his nose. When that didn't yield even a twitch he shook the boy firmly by the shoulder. "Hey, is something wrong?"

"What?" Ranma replied, distractedly, and then on catching the expectant stares they all shot him, "Oh, sorry, uh... I fold," he announced then promptly got up to leave the room.

Confused grumbles and complaints about not being able to milk more cash from the Legendary Sucker followed him all the way out the door.


Ranma frowned as he ascended the steps to the rooftop of the hotel. He hated to leave the game so abruptly (well, that wasn't entirely true) but this was far more pressing. There was something up here that bothered his senses, and the closer he got, the more his unease grew.

The last time his stomach felt like this was when he had a gelatinous slice of Akane's Tobacky and Oyster Chili. She hadn't taken it well when he asked if they were inviting chain smoking otters over for dinner that night.

"Bad, so horribly bad," Ranma said with a smirk. Thinking about that culinary disaster coaxed a chuckle out of him that helped to chase some of his anxiety away.

The entrance to the roof was propped open by a plastic ashtray overflowing with crushed cigarette butts. He pushed on the door and gave silent thanks when the hinges didn't squeak, although he found himself hard pressed not to do so himself on catching a couple embracing in the shadow of a water tower. The lighting didn't allow him to pick out every detail, but the pink dress of the hotel maid staff could be seen and he could hear short, ragged bursts of breath and shuddering.

Ranma blushed from chin to hairline as imagination filled in what his eyes missed. He was just about to stammer out a quick apology and beat a hasty retreat when a passing wind brought a smell with it that forced him to cover his nose. It was the distinct smell of rotting meat, which was hard to miss even when you really wanted to and it was coming from the interlocked couple.

The woman suddenly arched her back and soundlessly screamed as an array of faint, crisscrossing yellow lines appeared on the skin of the woman's arms. They quickly turned a shade of bright red as particles were being drawn into her body from the air. Her body continued to glow ever brighter until her skin became translucent like rice paper, and then as quickly as it had all started it guttered out as a burst of smokeless blue-white flames were ignited.

Ranma gaped. The entire spectacle lasted mere moments and it was such a departure from what he was used to that he had a hard time even processing that the woman was now on fire. He shook off his stupor and rushed over to help, but was met with an unnaturally quick backhand to his jaw that took him clean off his feet and sent him tumbling. Ranma snarled angrily, probing his split lip with his tongue.

The flickering light of the fire provided fleeting glances of the figure. As far as Ranma could tell it was a faceless black mass that had just enough features to be recognizable as human in shape like a mannequin. He didn't have a clue if this was some kind of high-level special ability, a demon, a robot, or some kind of space creature. Without a doubt, however, was that it was now a murderer.

Ranma glared as it turned what he assumed was its face in his direction. "What the heck are you?" he asked with a mixture of both caution and wonderment in his voice. As if pulled from a stupor by his voice the creature released the still burning corpse that disintegrated as it hit the surface of the roof. There was no blood, no bones, and not even a speck of ash left behind.

He'd never tangled with anything quite like this before so he wasn't sure what his chances of winning would be in a straight up fight. There were so many unknowns in play that to proceed would be to teeter dangerously on the edge of recklessness. The grin on his face stretched wide at such a prospect.

It was this feeling of uncertainty and excitement that he was a slave to. It gave him a rush that his usual rivals just couldn't supply him these days and his heart beat just a little faster in anticipation. Ranma coiled his body tight in anticipation of a response and it came in a violent yet uncoordinated fashion.

Ranma easily avoided a clumsy bull rush and he countered with a kick that left his attacker's leg bent at an angle that should've dropped it to the ground and unable to stand. He frowned though as what he expected was the feel of muscles and bones on contact, but the sensation was totally wrong - like wet sand. His brow furrowed when he saw the damage mend itself with little effect.

It moved with a ponderous speed with random, jerky flailing, but there was ridiculous power behind each swing. To make matters worse, if he wasn't imagining things, it was getting faster and more fluid with each passing second. He had to make a decision right here, right now take it down quick or make a tactical retreat.

Ranma planted his right foot and waited for a punch and when it came he managed to spin behind it and dealt a blow that should have shattered its spine, but he was left sputtering a litany of expletives when his arm was engulfed up to his elbow instead.

"That's cheating!" Ranma accused as what appeared to be its back shifted to now become its front. He attempted to free himself without success and was stuck staring in sick anticipation as a fist was slowly reared back. He braced for the counterstrike as best he could with his arms, but the punch burst through his guard with ferocity beyond his wildest expectations. It caught him square in the jaw and easily put Ryoga's best offering to shame and took Ranma to the very edge of consciousness. The only benefit was that he was dislodged and near the edge of the roof.

"It's time for the Saotome Secret Technique - FAST BREAK!" With that Ranma turned and jumped for the streets below, but found his escape cut short as a snake-like tendril wrapped around his ankle. "Oh shit, that's not good," he managed before he was hoisted back up and slammed against the pavement where globs of bloodied saliva left his mouth along with his breath.


Hiroshi and Daisuke shared an odd look as a loud bang shook their room and bits of loose debris from the popcorn ceiling came raining down on their heads.

"What the heck is going on up there?" Hiroshi asked as he stared at the exact same spot that Ranma had earlier in the evening.

"You think that's our boy up there having some fun?" Daisuke looked at his childhood friend with a raised eyebrow, which earned him a mirrored response from Hiroshi.

"More likely than not especially whenever Ranma is around."

Mumbles snorted derisively. "Who cares what an asshole that can't even remember people's names is doing," he said, revealing clues about how he managed to get his pet name.

"M-m-mumbles..." Guinea Pig said before taking a sip from his bottle to hide his twitching smirk. It earned him a frustrated shriek from said boy who had to be calmed down by Daisuke.

"Now, now," Hiroshi chastised, playing the role of peacemaker. "Let's all play nice here."

"Can't one of you go grab that longhaired punk and bring him back down here so we can kick his ass from one end of the room to the other again?" suggested Mumbles who glared at the triumphantly smirking stutterer.

"I bet he's still smarting," Hiroshi openly teased.

"Seems like the type to get over stuff quick." Noisy Tiger quickly tugged his ball cap lower to further hide his eyes.

"Which is even a better reason to bring him back here," Mumbles replied. He looked at his roommates and wrung his hands as if wadding an imaginary ball of paper. "To think a card game was the key to leave that macho man a crumpled heap on the ground..."

Daisuke interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "Need I remind you gentlemen that the golden cash cow comes equipped with the ability to make us eat our shorts and bend us like a pretzel with his bare hands?"

Mumbles had a fire burning in his eyes that was not dimmed in the slightest by the threat of bodily harm. "If I was taking him on in a fistfight, sure, but that isn't happening. I just want to see him weeping and curled up in defeat!"

"Sad," was the immediate response to his suggestion from the rest of the occupants. The accused boy defended himself with indignant sputtering, but offered no real rebuttal.

"Well, I'll go take a look. Do we have any other volunteers to come with me?" Hiroshi asked. The others wished him well with various unenthusiastic waves. "Dai, my wingman," he cried out, betrayed.

"Dude, this place gets creepy once the sun goes down," Daisuke pointed out logically. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll burn incense for you in remembrance if you don't come back."

"Not funny, man. Not funny at all."


"This is no joke," Ranma wheezed in observance as his back stung fiercely in protest at the abuse it had taken. He kicked back up to his feet quickly, hoping to catch his assailant off-guard and get loose, but the appendage around his leg held strong.

Ranma toed some loose, shattered concrete shards from the ground up to his hands and flung them end over end. Either it didn't see them coming or didn't care as it took all three pieces flush to its face without so much as a flinch.

"Why do you do nothing against that, but react whenever I..." his words trailed off as a thought came to him. He dug out a coin from his pocket then fired it like a bullet. It too was not dodged and it lodged itself deeply into its dark skin before it was eventually forced out by the mending flesh.

"Okay, one final test then," Ranma stated then powered up his patented and proud technique, the Moko Takabisha. That got an immediate and animated response and earned him the creature's full attention. When he unleashed the attack it willingly jumped straight into the path of the ball of energy and ate it - literally.

Ranma was ripped away from his observation that the creature seemed hone in on ki as a tug pulled him into waiting hands that clamped firmly around his throat and began to squeeze. He was dangling off the ground without leverage and found he was not going to be able to pull free on pure strength alone and opened up his book of martial arts knowledge.

Ranma hooked his legs around the offending appendage and put it in a scissor lock then he threw his body into a crocodile s death spin to break its shoulder, elbow, and wrist. He thought he'd finally gain some breathing slack, but a savaged arm proved not be a hindrance either as it repeatedly slammed Ranma's head against the ground in thanks.

Before he could lament that anatomy and physics were both against him in this fight that his eyes bulged out as the iron grip around his throat shifted from grasping to constricting in an attempt to choke him out. Ranma gurgled every colorful adjective in his personal dictionary through clenched teeth. He squinted, trying to peer through a field of hazy spots as his faceless opponent raised his other arm in a deadly knife-hand motion. Safe and sane options were now off the table as forbidden ones came to the fore.

Ranma enfolded himself in the familiar blanket of his father's Umisenken technique, which eliminated his presence from detection. In an all or nothing move he banked on the hunch that it would think Ranma was replaced by an inanimate object. If he guessed correctly he'd be no different from a warm slab of concrete to its senses.

He fought down a whoop as it released Ranma then began stumbling about in a blind search, leaving him hidden in plain view. "I'd kiss you right now if I could you loveable, lard-assed panda," Ranma mentally whispered to himself.

He took that moment to gather his wits and reassess his earlier enthusiasm about encountering a challenge of this magnitude as this was turning out to be a bit more than what he bargained for. This confrontation was also missing that human element that he preferred. Taunts were totally useless here and that took at least half the fun out of it and it was deadly serious, which put it on a whole other threat category than a mutual exchange of fists.

The sound of a plastic container being knocked over was followed by a soft hiss as the door to the rooftop was opened. "Hey, Saotome, are you out here?" Hiroshi asked. "Tell me you're at least snatching yourself some booty if you're going to crawl up to a place like this."

That may as well have been a giant gong being struck because it triggered the start of a rapid sequence of events.

Before the words "run you moron" even left Ranma's lips the creature had already turned and was within three strides of Hiroshi whose eyes were thrown open wide like dinner plates.

Ranma gathered a large ball of ki in both hands that caused his target to hesitate for a moment, which was just enough to allow Ranma to clap both hands together on the sides of its head to trigger a detonation like a contact-explosive. The force of the blast hurled all three of them in opposite directions. Ranma himself skipped across the roof like a smooth river stone until he came to a jarring halt upon striking the base of a ventilation shaft with his back.

Sleeping right here in this awkward U-shaped position held some appeal, but he knew it was out of the question. With great reluctance he forced himself to roll over, and he had to suck in a deep breath before he strained to pull himself upright onto his feet. Running his fingers along his flank told him that his ribs were either fractured or broken at worst. He could feel that the skin on his back was peeled raw, and he was sore right down to every strand of hair on his head, but he bore it all with as much dignity as whining afforded.

The effort was worth it though since it gave him a glimpse of his unmoving opponent. "I'm still alive," Ranma croaked, trying to ignore how much he felt like a slab of tenderized beef. "And you got what you deserved," Ranma hoarsely taunted in what sounded like an asthmatic wheeze.

He wobbled unsteadily as dizziness and weakness in his legs forced him to lean on the dented airshaft behind him as a crutch. Closing his eyes he drew in a series of deep, calming breaths that eventually did the trick in banishing the vertigo that played havoc with his balance.

Even without being close enough to see every detail, he knew his harebrained attack had done its job well. Ranma maintained a wary distance from the thing as he hazarded a closer study. One of the legs remained attached to the main body by a thread, the other laid some 20 feet away, and the chest cavity was splayed open. He did find it odd that there was no trace of gore or even a drop of blood, but then what did he really know about this thing other than that it wasn't a run of the mill creature you'd find on the streets or in a zoo.

But of course I find it on the roof of the crappy hotel I just happen to be staying at during my summer break, Ranma complained.

With that said he channeled some energy internally to kick start the healing process and that's when what he thought was deader than dead turned out to be very much alive. A sudden twisting motion drove a bladed projection through the palm of his right hand that he tried to shield himself with and it continued unabated to plunge into his chest.

The shocked expression on his face quickly changed to one of pure anguish as his body was racked with a shuddering fit. He was caught between drawing breath and screaming and he could do neither. Ranma tried to force the appendage out, but it fought his grasp and responded by burrowing more vigorously. Ranma desperately pulled and clawed at his shirt and tore the surrounding skin open by the efforts of his own nails, but there was no halting it. He had a white-knuckled death grip around it, but it pushed even deeper.

Small gasps of air were all he could manage to force in as what felt like an angry serpent made of glass ripped a path into the very depths of his core. His legs finally gave out and Ranma hit the ground in a tangled heap of limbs as erratic spasms wracked his body.

He felt the grip of real panic taking hold, but he fought it down with determination fueled by smoldering anger. Was this how he was going to die as he let curiosity get the best of him? Alone on the roof of a shady two-bit hotel as he was tentacle raped?

No. This was NOT how Ranma Saotome was going to leave this world. He'd go to the afterlife kicking and screaming because he wasn t going down without a fight. With conviction reaffirmed he pulled on the faint strings to his inner energy and directed every drop left in his reservoir towards healing himself as he'd done so many times before.

Only something was wrong this time. He knew it instinctively even if he didn't understand the mechanics behind why as the sounds of the city around him was becoming garbled as if he was sinking under a vast body of water. His vision began to tunnel to a spiraling pinprick of light about an inch wide surrounded by darkness...


As much crap as Daisuke gave Hiroshi he wasn't going to abandon his best friend when he obviously needed him. Of course it didn't stop him from teasing the guy and letting him bumble around in the dark like a scaredy-cat. And if he just so happened to see a chance to spook him out of his mind it'd be one heck of a bonus.

"So, let's see," Hiroshi mused out loud, "The noise came from up above so it figures that's the direction I'll have to go."

So saying he went looking for a stairwell leading to the roof wondering if Daisuke sorted that out just as quickly or if actually went stumbling blindly into the dark the wrong way.

His footsteps echoed in the empty halls. Most of your normal guests were all still outside enjoying the sights and sounds of the festival that would go on strong for another three more days. Thinking of that brought up memories of lost opportunities - the money, but more importantly the fame that came with winning the title that would've opened doorways to great opportunities for both Daisuke and himself!

"And maybe Saotome too," he added sheepishly as a guilty afterthought. "But he's got enough good fortune with looks, skills, and babes hanging off of him so he can really go without and give to the less fortunate on the social ladder."

He reached the bottom of the stairs, which had an "Authorized Personnel Only" sign hanging off of a chain that ran the span from right to left that anyone could step over or under without any issues.

"It's like they're banking on the honor system to keep people out."

Since nobody was supposed to be here the lights weren't turned on in this area, most likely to keep the electricity bill down, but it sure did add to the feeling that something was going to jump out of the shadows.

"But it's not like there's anything out here anyway," Hiroshi stated, though the waver in his voice showed how much confidence he held in regards to that. He pulled out his cellphone and switched it to flashlight mode to light up the path. "It's so I don't trip and fall. Not because I'm scared of the dark or anything..."

A disembodied moan could be heard from higher up the stairs. It sent a jolt through Hiroshi's heart that caused it to piston up and down from the middle of his chest and up into his throat. He might've dribbled a bit of moisture into his trousers, just a bit.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is somebody up there? Dai, if that's you I'm going to put my foot up your ass 'cause this is not funny." He actually began chanting "please be Dai" over and over in a softly whispered mantra.

The moan came again, closer this time to his right, and he nearly soiled his pants. Coherent thought left his head with a supersonic whoosh of displaced air and he actually began meowing in an attempt to throw off whoever was there into believing he was a cat.

"Hiro?" a weak voice called, rebooting Daisuke's brain from the blue screen of death that it was frozen at.

"Dai!" he enthusiastically called out to his brother-in-arms and turned the light to pick him out of the dark. "Well, holy crap! What the heck happened to you?"

"Got caught up in one of Ranma's adventures," his friend admitted. "You might not believe it, but he was fighting a space ninja or something up on the roof. I popped my head up there and almost died, man."

"Well... that would've sucked," Hiroshi offered, not knowing what else to really say in response to all that.

"He used another one of those ancient Chinese video game moves and it threw me through the door and sent me tumbling ass over tea kettle down the steps. My phone snapped like a dry biscuit in my pockets and I've been moaning and groaning in pain all this time."

"Can you stand up and walk with me back to the room?"

"Dude, I'm delicate. I think I busted this, that, and a few other things," Daisuke said pointing to various body parts.

"Wait for Ranma then?"

"How about you go and bring him back here?"

"How about I sit here and keep you company? I don't do space ninja. It's not in the job description," Hiroshi replied, earning a snort from Daisuke.

"Scared?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Hiroshi muttered, "let me tell you about the trip up here."

"And the meowing?"


Ranma snapped awake on the rooftop. His body jackknifed as pain greeted him upon waking. Nerves and muscle fibers collectively fired and clenched in rapid-fire succession when he tried to force himself to sit up. The world spun and lurched so he wobbled unsteadily on his hands and knees until it passed. It felt like a railroad spike had been driven through his hand and chest leaving both areas tender. With the amount of pain he expected wounds weeping with blood, but his fingers came away unstained.

Once the world stopped dancing around like a drunken panda on a beach ball he started noticing little things as information started to get past the fuzzy haze in his head. The overpowering stink from before was gone and a cursory search of the area revealed that he was alone. Ranma couldn't even tell how much time had gone by.

"Did it get away?" Ranma muttered to himself as he looked past the roof's edge to the surrounding buildings. The sound of drums and crowds still milling about could be heard. "No, there'd be more panic and police sirens if it was running around on the ground."

That's when another thought suddenly struck him.

"Wait, why did it even come after that lady and me when it could have gobbled up people left and right like the Old Man at a buffet table?"

Something about that detail gnawed at him, but he wasn't getting anything useful out of thinking about it. "I've got to get out of here," Ranma finally allowed himself to say. He was going to shelve any further thoughts on the matter until the next day if he could.

His path to the stairwell took him near the water tower where nothing remained to show that the woman had even existed. It was unnerving to imagine being wiped out of existence; like being caught up in an atomic blast like in those educational clips they showed during history class.

"What made the two of us so special? And why did it spare me and only kill you?" Ranma wondered, serving as a morbid soliloquy.

Ranma really didn't have the energy to deal with this right now. This was far and above more serious than anything he'd ever dealt with before back home, and it was the numbness of shock that was keeping any hysterics in check. Everything was kind of muted right now, like he was experiencing life through a filter that kept things less real and more detached.

He'd have to report this to someone, but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to explain what happened up here. Who was going to believe this story? A crazed inkblot monster that smelled like rotten meat killed a woman with neon fire was beyond the scope of the utterly bizarre for even Nerima. If they didn't throw him out of the police station on his ass for wasting their time they might just as well throw him in a padded room.

Belatedly a thought occurred to him. "Wait, where'd Hiroshi go?"

There was no sign of him on the roof. He guessed that with their positions when he let his attack go off that he was probably hurled back down the stairs. Ranma looked at the entryway and noticed the wooden door was blown off its hinges with bits of it littering the floor. He hoped Hiroshi was okay since there were arguably 99 or 100 steps from the top here to the bottom.

Ranma whistled appreciatively as he looked at the distance. "Better hurry and see if he's okay. He might've busted something delicate if he didn't manage to land on his head," he joked.

Another dizzy spell sent him stumbling off-balance to crash into the handrails. Ranma snorted and briefly wondered if it might be the lingering effects from a concussion even though he'd taken plenty of headshots before without this kind of reaction. A sharp pain from the back of his hand left the fingers he dabbed it with coming away with rosy dots. It was followed by a lurching sensation as the whole world seemed to come to a stop then restart, only in slow motion that left his thoughts and his actions oddly disconnected.

Ranma tried to pinwheel unresponsive arms to fight for balance when it felt like the floor violently tilted upwards as if a rug had been pulled out from under him. He experienced what he thought impossible when two contrasting feelings hit him simultaneously. He was both standing and plummeting backwards beyond the point where the floor should be until he was left with the shocking sensation of frigid water closing in around him like an enormous, clenching fist. Ranma fell deeper and deeper into a pitch-black darkness where it seemed as if he was dreaming, even though he knew full well that he was still awake. Then, as quickly as it all started, it was over. He was back in the hall. There was no water, no endless darkness, no crushing pressure, nothing.

Ranma was about ready to chalk it up to needing to get checked out by Doctor Tofuu when his body began moving on its own. He felt his insides knot up as he began a journey down the stairs with one plodding step after another.

Trapped in his own head, Ranma was panicking as a litany of colorful phrases picked up on the road spilled out of his mouth like a raging torrent. He forced his mind to work in overdrive to figure out a way to get him out of this latest jam, but he was spinning in circles and getting no closer to a solution.

"Think, think, think! What can I do?" he desperately asked himself.

There was a faint glow of light up ahead at the curve of the stairwell and the sound of two familiar voices bickering in hushed tones reached his ears. He shivered as a sick feeling dropped into the pit of his stomach like a stone.

"Saotome!" Hiroshi and Daisuke greeted him together in unison.

End Chapter 1.


Author's Note:

Synnecrosis (n): An interaction between individuals or populations so mutually detrimental that it results in death, as in the case of some parasitic relationships.

To give you a reference of where in the timeline it is for Ranma, it's a little after volume 28 of the manga. That puts it after the Umisenken and Yamasenken incident, the Moko Takabisha training (volume 20), and Herb confrontation (volume 24), but way before any of the events involving Saffron (volume 37) takes place.