Sound Hearts

KaosQu

Author's Notes:

Ranma is younger here than in canon and his growth is an important part of the story. If he seems a little more immature and insecure than canon Ranma, it is likely intentional. For the same reasons, his skill level is also less impressive than canon. The Shibakouen students are also intended to be above-average fighters seasoned by constant inter-class fighting.

Chapter 2

Ranma tore another satisfied bite out of his egg-bread lunch and, after a few quick chews, gulped it down. He yawned and leaned back in his chair, casting a lazy eye around the crowded classroom and absently listening to the boisterous din. Another day at Shibakouen Junior High.

"You're back from the cafeteria early today, Ranma. Looks like you got your lunch again as usual, too." Ranma turned his head slightly to look at the young student approaching him. At first glance he appeared to be a model-student compared to the rest of the class. His blue uniform was clean and fit well with the sleeves rolled down and the shirt buttoned up. He was of average height and build, his hair simply combed down and slightly parted, a friendly smile on a lean and friendly face.

But as Ranma watched he also saw the unmistakable confidence in the young student's stride and, more than anything, those bright brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence edged with that touch of mischief and defiance that defined every other student in the room. There was no mistaking Etsuya Takemago, president of Shibakouen's infamous delinquent class 3-D.

"Of course," Ranma simply replied as Etsuya reached him and pulled a desk closer to sit on.

"Ranma, you have got to be one of the cockiest guys I've ever known." Etsuya's eyes sparkled with friendly amusement.

"Not being cocky if it's true." Ranma smirked quite cockily.

Etsuya rolled his eyes. "I heard you had a good fight with somebody from 3-A today."

"It wasn't anything special," Ranma said with a shrug. "More like a brawl if you ask me."

"Well, there's a reason we're the most infamous class in Shibakouen," Etsuya said with a grin. "And you're the latest one."

Ranma took a thoughtful bite out of his lunch. "So how about this class then? Don't you have any real martial artists in here?"

Etsuya chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Take a look around you Ranma." He waved a hand casually around the room. "We're a lot of bums, jerks, perverts and sneaks—all the worst delinquents of Shibakouen rounded up from the streets and herded into one room. Nothing so noble as a martial artist in here. We don't even have any girls!"

Ranma frowned. "No martial artists at all?"

Etsuya furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin, looking as if he just realized something. "Well we've all done a little, but yeah we do have one guy I'd call a 'real' martial artist. He's sort of… on vacation right now you could say."

Ranma's curiosity was piqued, but before he could ask anything else, the door to the room flew open and a blue-uniformed student hurtled through the air, crashing into a pile of desks where he crumpled to the ground. A scant second later, a student he recognized as Takeru burst running into the room. Skidding to a stop, he grabbed a chair, spun around and threw it back through the door, eliciting loud curses and a yelp of pain from outside.

"Come on you cowards!" he shouted out the door, standing straight up and pointing outside the room with an entire arm dramatically. Somehow, he had positioned himself so that he was standing right in the path of a beam of sunlight and fairly glowed, his handsome face smirking slightly. A gentle breeze blew in from an open window at that very second, rustling his slicked-up, spiked hair and the uniform on his well-toned body. "Don't tell me you're too scared to come in! I thought you wanted a fight, where's all your talk now?!" All in all Takeru was a very impressive sight, like something torn from the pages of a manga.

Takeru visibly flinched when, just seconds later, his challenge was answered with a rumbling battle cry, and what seemed like a flood of blue-uniformed students burst into the room screaming.

"Shit!" Etsuya cursed, hopping to his feet. He grabbed the desk he had been sitting on and flipped it straight into one of the students running towards him. "Takeru must have really pissed them off for them to actually come in here!"

Ranma jumped to his feet as well, staring at the chaos that was enveloping the room with a measure of disbelief. Takeru was smashing his fists viciously into one attacking student after another, and the rest of the class was engaged in a general melee.

"What the heck did Takeru do?" Ranma asked, kicking a chair at a pair of screaming students dashing towards him.

Etsuya hurled a bento box at another attacker's face with pinpoint accuracy and shrugged. "Steal their lunches or hit on all their girlfriends. Knowing him probably both."

Ranma peered over the line of hedges across the dark parking lot. The lights on this side were dead, which was why they had chosen it, but there was enough moonlight for him to just barely see the chain link fence surrounding the warehouse on the far side of the lot. A cold breeze blew over him, rustling the leaves of the bush and whistling eerily across the empty lot. Ranma looked around him at the five other would-be saboteurs and sighed. "Remind me again why I'm doing this," he said tiredly.

It was Etsuya who replied. "Because the other classes are getting too bold, actually attacking us in our own room today. They were overconfident but we have to strike back to teach them a lesson; and hitting 3-A's class project is just the thing."

"No, remind me why I'm doing this."

Mitsuo yawned, his eyes still nearly closed even in the dead of the night, and gave Ranma a cheerful slap on the back. "Because we're friends and it'll be fun."

Takeru grinned. "And because even Mitsuo's going and Etsuya guilted you into it."

Etsuya didn't say anything, but his eyes fairly sparkled with laughter. Mitsuo was notoriously lazy, known for being able to sleep through every single school activity—even a real earthquake alarm once. They said it was all the rest he got that made him such a cheerful and overall pleasant person; whatever it was, the chestnut brown-haired boy was probably the most well-liked student in 3-D.

Ranma sighed again, and Etsuya gestured for them to move out. Koki gave Ranma a friendly wink and nimbly jumped over the hedges, his slight frame carrying him easily over as his ponytail fluttered behind him, his midnight blue locks darker than the night. As Ranma carefully scanned behind them for any sign of trouble, Takeru, Mitsuo and Etsuya made their way over the hedges and across the lot. Finally, Osamu came up next to Ranma, his giant frame still towering over the martial artist even while crouched. The giant's enormous, well muscled-body and closely shaved head gave him a terrifying look—like some monster stepping out of the shadows; but as he lay a hand as large as Ranma's head on the martial artist's shoulder, his face broke into a mischievous grin. "Loosen up Ranma, this'll be easy."

Ranma thought about it as Osamu stepped over the hedge and made his way across. That was probably true. He'd done a lot more dangerous and scary things on the road with his father. It wasn't like he was being chased down by an angry mob of townspeople or breaking into some high-security building to steal noodles (that had been a particularly stupid idea—booby-trapped laser trips and motion sensors for noodles? He would've killed Genma afterwards if he hadn't been so hungry). Well, whatever. He was here now.

They made it into the warehouse with little incident. Getting over the fence had been simple. Even if Osamu and his giant back hadn't been there for them to use as a stepping stone, Ranma could've made it over easily. He was also satisfied that the rest of the group were all physically competent, even Mitsuo. And despite some whispered jokes and light banter between them, they all seemed experienced and confident with what they were doing.

Koki picked the lock to the warehouse, and they entered a cavernous room filled with aisles of crates and boxes. They quickly spread out to look for the class project, which was reputed to be some sort of boat.

A few minutes later they heard Osamu from the back of the warehouse "Cawk caaaw! Cawk caaaw!"

Ranma blinked and looked at Takeru, who happened to be next to him. "Is that supposed to be a bird call?"

Takeru was smothering his laughter. "Whatever Etsuya wants. Osamu must've found it, let's go."

They made their way to Osamu, who was grinning broadly at them. Koki jumped lightly to the ground from the top of an aisle of crates, quipping that Osamu must be the biggest and ugliest bird he'd ever seen. Even worse than that big yellow one from the American TV show Mr. Kumagi showed them once. Mitsuo appeared with Etsuya and gave Osamu a friendly slap on his back (his shoulders were too high up to reach casually), complimenting the bird call.

Etsuya simply rolled his eyes. "You found it?"

Osamu gestured behind him at some sort of large object covered with blue tarp. On the side was a sign that read, in big red English letters, "Class 3-A Project".

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that kinda suspicious?"

Etsuya rubbed his chin thoughtfully and started looking around the room, but Takeru shrugged and started walking towards the tarp. "Hey, if it says 3-A project it says 3-A project. They probably didn't expect us to be able to read English. C'mon, what're we going to do? Burn it?"

Osamu grinned and pulled out a marker as large as a kitchen knife. "I'm going to draw penises on it."

Takeru snickered. "Very mature, Osamu."

"Never said I was!"

"Hey, why don't we wait a little bit," Koki called out. He looked at Etsuya, who was still scanning the room, squinting in the dark and trying to make out their surroundings.

"Yeah, we're in no hurry. Let's just relax," Mitsuo agreed, sitting down with a yawn to lean against a large crate.

"You think it's a trap?" Ranma asked Etsuya.

Etsuya looked at Ranma. "Well, if it is a trap chances are we're already in it…" he trailed off as Takeru and Osamu pulled off the tarp.

"See, everything's fine!" Osamu said. "It's a pile of old wood. They must be using it to make their boat."

Ranma's jaw dropped and Etsuya tensed; but before anybody could say anything else the room flooded with light, nearly blinding them for a moment.

Ranma could hear Etsuya sigh. "I hate being right."

Ranma's vision was just clearing up when from somewhere above he heard someone shout out "GET THEM!"

As the command echoed throughout the warehouse, what looked like hundreds of blue-uniformed students began streaming down stairs from metal walkways around the room and seemingly burst out of boxes and crates in every direction. A door opened and a dozen vicious-looking dogs rushed out, more pulling than being led by the students clinging to their leashes.

Takeru slapped his head and Osamu screamed, "You got to be kidding me! What is this the entire school?!"

"Plan B!" Etsuya shouted, punching a fist into the air.

"What the heck's Plan B?" Osamu demanded incredulously.

"RUN!" and with that Etsuya started running back towards the entrance.

It was then that all hell broke lose. For the next few frantic minutes or hours, Ranma wasn't sure what exactly was going on. It was as if, as soon as Etsuya had shouted for them to run, a floodgate had opened. His vision still a little blurry, Ranma simply started running back in the direction he came. Blue uniforms with snarling faces appeared in front of him, and he weaved through wild attacks—everything from kicks and punches to large blunt objects swinging at his head. He lashed out when he could with his own vicious attacks, sending bodies flying in every direction; but the nearly deafening din, as if everyone in the world were screaming, and his own pounding heart was making him slip and make mistakes. He was getting hit and pushed back—two students appeared to replace every one he took down—and he felt like he was about to drown in the sea of his opponents. They managed to pull him to the ground through sheer numbers and he felt blows raining on his body. He took them, teeth clenched, yanking his arms wildly to free them and kicking frantically at all and everything. He couldn't see the ceiling anymore— only a wall of fists and faces.

Adrenaline surged through his body. He threw vicious elbows and pushed off violently to a side, slamming his shoulder into knees and knocking enemies over. He felt them fall over him, shutting out the light. He crawled and crawled through a dark, dank tunnel of squirming flesh and sticky sweat, struggling to pull free of the mass of students all around him and, finally, somehow, he made it out and jumped back to his feet and into the blinding light. He was immediately set upon by two students. One he sent flying with a powerful uppercut, the other he grabbed as he came up from the punch and threw back at the giant pile of bodies he had just escaped.

Ranma screamed, and if it could be said that it wasn't complete chaos before it definitely was now. The young boy just kept pushing and pushing. All he saw were blurred blue bodies and attacks, and all he felt was the pounding of his heart and the suffocating warmth of the bodies around him. Around him he heard only battle cries, screams of pain and the barking of dogs. Sometimes he caught glimpses of his classmates: Koki darting around like a shadow; Takeru swinging his fists with grim determination as blood poured down his face; Osamu swinging and throwing students and dogs in every direction, his shirt torn and his eyes red, his mouth howling a perpetual berserker's cry.

And then, all of a sudden, for some reason the sea seemed to thin. The wall of enemies lessened and he could vaguely see a set of doors just ahead. A group of students appeared in front of him only to be knocked down as a crate fell on them. From the corner of his eyes he saw a disheveled Mitsuo wave and give him a tired smile. Was that the exit? He stopped, not sure what to do for a moment.

He felt someone pull at his arm and looked to his side. It was Koki. He pointed towards the doors, shouting something Ranma couldn't hear, and started running towards them.

Ranma started to follow but spared a single look back. He realized then that the bulk of the enemy was behind him. He saw Takeru struggling to cut through the enemy line. Osamu was not far behind him, rolling through the mass of attackers, three of them and two dogs clinging to his body attempting to pull him down. On top of a nearby crate was Etsuya, shouting instructions Ranma couldn't hear over the roar of the battle. He was kicking down students as they tried to climb up to reach him and had a band of throwing knives across his chest, which he threw with pinpoint accuracy to help clear a path for Takeru and Osamu.

Ranma almost stopped, but cutting through the madness, he suddenly heard Koki's voice urgently calling to him. Turning back around, Ranma burst through the exit and into the night, the air hitting him like a splash of cold water. Ahead he saw Koki and Mitsuo disappearing into the shadows. Behind him he heard shouts and more footsteps, maybe his friends, maybe pursuit. He didn't know, he just kept running.

Ranma wasn't sure where he was, or even how long he had been running for. As soon as he had caught up with Koki and Mitsuo, they were ambushed by another group—maybe assigned to guard the exits. They had been fresh, and the fight was difficult. The trio had barely knocked the last enemy unconscious when they saw another group coming towards them, dogs running in the lead. They quickly decided that their best chance of escape was to split up and make a run for it.

They weren't sure if Etsuya and the others had made it out and Ranma had wanted to go back, but both Koki and Mitsuo told him that Etsuya had specifically ordered them to escape while he went back to help Takeru and Osamu.

So Ranma ran and ran as fast as he could—the Saotome Final Attack in all its glory. He ducked into alleys, jumped over walls and did his best to lose pursuit. They were surprisingly adept at chasing him; but it was working, and gradually the sounds of pursuit began to fade away. After awhile all he could hear were the quick staccato steps of the dogs and a few shouts further back.

Almost! The path began to darken and he vaguely noticed more trees appearing around him. There was a familiar twinge inside of him, but he barely noticed it, his heart still pounding and the adrenaline still coursing through his body.

He squinted as he saw someone, a girl in a skirt, down the otherwise empty path. "Hey! Get out of the way!" he shouted, not slowing down for a second. The girl turned abruptly, startled by his shout. Her short dark hair rustled slightly in the wind, and she gave him a confused look, her violet eyes sparkling softly in the dim lamplight. Ranma almost skid to a stop, recognition flooding him. Her!

But then he heard the dogs barking behind him, seemingly closer now, and he picked up his pace, continuing to barrel towards her. "What're you deaf?! I said get outta the way!"

The girl hesitated, frozen like a deer in headlights. Rather than slow himself down by adjusting his course, Ranma gave a frustrated sigh and jumped into the air and over her again. One hand came down, pushing lightly off her head and sending him easily over. Prepared this time, he landed softly and kept running. Behind him, he heard her give a small cry as she fell down. He didn't look back—Saotome Final Attack: get the hell out of there as fast as possible!

He had only run about 30 feet out, however, when he finally did skid to a halt as the girl gave out a piercing, frightened scream. He hesitated for a second, still thinking he should run. They were after him anyway, she'd be okay...! But the sudden torrent of barking from behind, as if the dogs had finally cornered their prey, told him otherwise and with a frustrated sigh he spun around, dashing back as fast as he could.

He saw her instantly, just ahead, propped precariously by one arm on the ground. She was seemingly frozen in fear, staring away from him at the dogs. He took a running jump and flew over her, landing in a slight crouch right in front of her. His heart pounded and his muscles tensed in anticipation of killer dogs leaping for his throat.

But none came. He slowly looked around him, still tense and uneasy but now confused. The dogs stood in a rough half circle around them, growling softly and shifting their feet restlessly, but none of them came forward. A lamp flickered and Ranma suddenly felt a strange, icy feeling gripping his stomach. The dogs began to back away, almost as if they were scared. And maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or some effect of the flickering lamp, but as the dogs backed off it was almost as if the shadows extended towards them, spreading outwards from him and… the girl?

Ranma spun around and for just a second he saw a flash of yellow, as if something were glowing, something cold and oppressive that almost seemed to smother him. And then, just as quickly, it was gone and he saw the girl collapse to the ground. He blinked, staring at her crumpled form, his mind still not registering what exactly was going on.

He was shaken out of his stupor, however, as he heard voices coming from further back down the path. Looks like they were about to catch up to him. Shaking his head, he picked the girl up, threw her over his shoulder, and ran away as quickly as he could.

After unceremoniously dropping the girl down, Ranma dropped to his knees and nearly collapsed face-forward into the ground, only barely holding himself up by his arms. He breathed heavily, his body shaking as the adrenaline rushing through him finally began to fade away. Finally, he thought to himself exhaustedly. He had finally gotten away.

He shifted his head just slightly to a side, looking at the girl. She had long since regained consciousness, but he had carried her the entire way, afraid that she would slow him down. She had been tense and gripped his shirt tightly the entire bumpy ride but hadn't uttered a single word of complaint.

She looked confused, not sure what was going on or what she should do. She sat with her legs underneath her, staring down quietly at her hands clenched together on her lap.

As Ranma slowly regained his breath he wondered if she would ever say anything or even move. What was her name again? He couldn't quite remember—something with an H right? Taking a deep breath and shaking his head clear, he pushed himself back to a sitting position, leaning heavily on his arms again. He stared at her, and she slowly lifted her head back up, returning his gaze hesitatingly.

"You sure cause a lot of trouble, you know that?" Ranma finally said, feeling slightly annoyed as he thought about what had just happened. She flinched, turning away from him, but Ranma didn't seem to notice. "Man, I can't believe I had to go back to save you. I could've escaped days ago if I didn't!"

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I never wanted to hurt anybody." She turned away, her face pained and, even through his thick skin, Ranma felt a stab of guilt. He had been expecting her to argue with him and blame him for having dogs chasing him or jumping over her, or anything really other than this quiet apology. She was just like this last time too, he realized.

He opened his mouth and started to say something when all of a sudden he felt her hands around his. He blinked and almost drew back, but there was something in the soft coolness of her hands that comforted him and put him at ease.

"You're injured," she said softly, lifting his arms up slightly and gently pulling his sleeves back. He looked down. He was indeed injured. His knuckles were bruised and bloody and numerous cuts and scrapes ran up the length of his arms.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said quickly, though somewhat truthfully, as he took note of his injuries. He had been through worse. He started to pull his hands away but she held them firmly. He looked up at her quizzically. "Hey, don't worry. None of this was your fault alright? I'm not mad at you or anything."

Even he was surprised by the sincerity in his voice—he really didn't want her to be worrying about any of this anymore. Hundreds of other angry and downright furious people had screamed and threatened him over some transgression or another but not once could he remember ever feeling this way. The girl's quiet apology had done what anger and violence never could.

She seemed taken aback and gave him an uncertain smile. He was a little relieved to see her maybe feeling better, but he still wanted his hands back and pulled at them again. But she squeezed his hands, and something in the gentleness of her touch made him stop; though any other time he would've felt incredibly dumb sitting there holding hands with a girl in the dark.

"I can help you," she said. He stared at her blankly but she looked back down at his arms, and all of a sudden he felt a soothing warmth wash over his hands. He looked down and was shocked to see her hands glowing with a soft yellow aura that enveloped his own. His first instinct was to jerk away, but there was something comforting and familiar about the light—about her—and he didn't move. As he watched, he saw the purple-blue bruises on his knuckles begin to fade away, the cuts closing and disappearing without leaving so much as a scar. Pain he hadn't noticed before vanished into the gentle warmth, and in a few short seconds, his hands looked just like they had that morning. Letting go of his hands then, she cupped her hands over one of his arms and slowly moved the aura up one arm and then the other. Wherever the yellow light went, cuts and bruises disappeared until his arm was smooth and clear again.

In less than half a minute she was done and drew away. Ranma didn't see her wince as she finished, almost collapsing and breathing heavily. He lifted his arms in front of him and stared at them in wonder. He ran his hands over his skin, searching for any sign of the injuries he had sustained, but found nothing. It was as if the fight that night hadn't happened at all!

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, staring at her with genuine awe.

She seemed surprised at his words, but when he continued to stare at her with open amazement, she worked up a tired smile. "Thank you. Do you have anymore injuries?"

Ranma blinked, suddenly realizing how tired she looked. She was leaning heavily on one arm, the other pressed against her chest, which was heaving with her breaths. "Um, no. Don't worry about it," he said quickly, though he did indeed have a few more injuries he hadn't managed to block with his arms.

"That's good," she said, and Ranma could tell she was struggling to get her breathe back. Apparently, whatever she did took a toll on her. He felt a stab of guilt that she had done this for him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She gave him another surprised look, as if she hadn't been expecting that question. "I'm okay. It's just a little tiring, and you had a lot of injuries."

"Oh," Ranma said, not sure what else to say. So she was going to be okay right? "How'd you do that?" he asked after a moment.

"I don't know. It's just something I've always been able to do." She sounded neither proud nor pleased, simply tired.

"It's amazing!" Ranma said again, his genuine awe at her ability evident in his voice and face. He was almost smiling.

She shook her head, looking back down at the ground. "My classmates don't think so. They're scared of me because of what I can do."

"That's pretty stupid," Ranma declared simply.

"They say I hurt them sometimes… Like I did today with you." She became very quiet and still, staring down at the ground, her breathing the only sound.

Ranma flinched, feeling an incredible blow of guilt for what he had said earlier, especially after she had just healed him. "Look, I said it's not your fault, and that thing is still really amazing okay?" And with that he turned around and stared at nothing in particular. He sat in awkward silence, listening to her slowly regain her breath and refusing to look at her.

Gradually her breathing slowed, and after a little bit of time she seemed normal again. He looked at her and she looked at him hesitatingly, as if she wasn't sure what to do. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, however, she stood up and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry for everything, but it was nice to see you again Ranma Saotome." She turned around and walked away.

He didn't know why, but Ranma felt startled by her departure. He started to get up but hesitated. He opened his mouth to call her name and realized he still didn't remember what it was. Dammit, he cursed silently, staring at her back as she walked away. He clenched his eyes, trying to remember her name. What was it, what was her name? He tried to think back to her the night he had met her, seeing her smiling at him in her red green uniform, when all of a sudden an image of her sitting by a lake appeared in his mind. She seemed sad and lonely, half-hidden in the night shadows; but her violet eyes gleamed in the moonlight, seeming to draw him in, and...

"Hotaru!"

She stopped, turned around and looked at him curiously. He didn't say anything, not quite sure what he was doing or why he had called her back.

After a second, she smiled. "You remember my name. I thought you had forgotten."

He got to his feet and walked towards her. So that was her name. "Hey, let me walk you home again, Hotaru."

Her eyes widened as if she were surprised by his offer. But she quickly regained her composure and nodded. "Thank you Ranma, I'd like that." And for a moment, Ranma thought that the way her eyes sparkled as she smiled was rather pretty.

Ranma didn't even realize he was smiling as he walked Hotaru home. He hadn't even been aware how stressed and tense he had been since that big fight at the warehouse, but now that he was able to just casually walk down the street enjoying the night air again, he felt incredibly relaxed. And though he wouldn't admit it, it was nice to have Hotaru to talk to. In all the insanity, he had forgotten that he had actually had a very calm and pleasant walk to her home with her the first night he had met her.

Hotaru turned out to be very easy for Ranma to talk to, probably partly because she was very good at quietly listening to him. He told her excitedly about his new school and the lunchtime fights for food and how he dominated it every day. He told her about the attack on the classroom today and the counterattack and ambush at the warehouse. He glazed over the fear and confusion lightheartedly, focusing on his martial prowess and how he had fought off so many students. He also mentioned briefly his classmates and how they fought pretty well. He admitted he was a little worried about Etsuya, Takeru and Osamu, but he was sure they were fine. But mostly, he talked about himself and his thoughts on Tokyo and Juuban, and Hotaru listened attentively, making a few comments here and smiling at his cocky quips there. And really it was not just because she was listening but somehow, incredibly, she seemed genuinely interested in his stories, asking question and appearing truly amazed, that made him feel so at ease talking with her.

"Tokyo's ridiculous! I don't even know where we are right now."

Hotaru smiled. "Then how are you walking me home?"

"We'll get where we have to get eventually," Ranma replied with grave profoundness. "That's one thing I've learned from being on the road so long. Doesn't matter where we start. Heck, I didn't even know where we were when we left."

Hotaru seemed surprised. "Really, you didn't?"

"Sure, why not?"

"It's just… that was the place we met last time. I thought you meant to bring us there." Hotaru smiled at him, as if trying to show that it was okay that he hadn't done it intentionally.

Ranma blinked, suddenly seeing clearly in his mind the moon-swept lake and the mysterious trees they had just left. He hadn't even really noticed his surroundings at all the entire time he had been there. He wondered how he had even found the place again. All he remembered was running with Hotaru on his shoulder and wanting to get somewhere safe. Funny that he had somehow made his way back there.

"Guess I'm pretty lucky, huh?" he finally said with a grin. Hotaru nodded, still smiling softly. "So where are we now anyway?" he asked casually.

Hotaru stopped before an ornate set of gates, her eyes sparking as she replied. "Home. You were right, we did get where we needed to get after all."

Ranma blinked as he stared at the gates. That's right, he remembered now from the other night. Hotaru lived in that huge mansion. He looked over the massive wooden structure again and was just as impressed as he was the first time.

"Thank you for walking me ho-" Hotaru's gasped and cut off, a pained expression twisting her face. She clutched her chest, falling back against the gate, and Ranma rushed to her side, steadying her.

"Hey! Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, helping her lean against the gate.

She nodded slowly though she was almost doubled over, clutching her chest and breathing in quick, shallow breaths. She started shaking and Ranma nearly jumped, not sure what to do. After a few long moments it stopped and Hotaru straightened up.

"I… I'm sorry…" she muttered tiredly. "I get these… fits sometimes. My health…" she trailed off, her face pale and her eyes unfocused.

Ranma fidgeted uncomfortably, confused by this frail and sickly-looking girl before him. He couldn't understand anyone being so weak and tired—maybe never could. "Um… come on, let's get you home," he finally said after awhile, pulling one of her arms around his neck. She nodded and opened the gate, and together they walked towards the front door.

They had just gotten to the large wooden entrance when it opened. A tall, dignified looking man with white hair and spectacles appeared, a worried expression on his face. "Hotaru!" he exclaimed.

Hotaru looked up and smiled weakly. "Hello Papa."

The man took Hotaru by her shoulders and Ranma let him help her into the house. "Are you okay Hotaru? When did you have this attack?"

"Just right now Papa. It's okay, Ranma helped me. I..." She pushed herself up forcefully and turned around to look at Ranma, leaning heavily on her father now. "I'm okay now," she finished after a moment.

The tall man looked at Ranma and gave him a thankful smile. "I'm Hotaru's father, Professor Soichi Tomoe. Thank you very much for your help young man." He extended a hand which Ranma took and shook firmly. He seemed like a nice guy.

"No problem sir." He said, not sure what else to say. "Just, uh… make sure Hotaru's okay, alright?"

Soichi nodded. "Of course Ranma, don't worry about Hotaru at all. Would you like to come in for a bit? I can call a cab for you."

"Nah, it's alright. I know where I am now so I'll just walk home," he gave Hotaru a quick grin, and she smiled weakly back at him.

"Are you sure? Where do you live?"

Ranma rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. What was the name of the place again? "Erm… oh yeah, the Meioh Condominium Tower."

The Professor's eyes lit up. "Oh, the new tower they just built! Very impressive, young man. Looks like you found yourself quite a catch, hrm Hotaru?" He smiled affectionately down at her daughter, who flushed quite red despite how pale she had seemed just a second ago.

Ranma just looked at both of them oddly, not really getting what he had just said.

"Alright, well thank you again for helping my daughter," the Professor said. "Have a safe journey home."

"No problem, I'll see you guys around I guess." He gave the two of them a quick wave and started walking away. He didn't hear them close the door and looked back. They were still standing there, watching him leave. It was a strange feeling seeing the two of them standing there in the light of the doorway. There must be a whole other world behind those doors Ranma thought—memories full of laughter and love, of family and friends. For a second Ranma felt a small tug in his chest he couldn't quite identify, except that it seemed familiar, like maybe it had been there most of his life.

Shrugging it off, Ranma exited the gate and started heading back to the apartment. His shadow seemed to dance and flicker under the streetlights but the road was quiet and empty. Feeling cold all of a sudden, he shoved his hands in his pockets and picked up his pace. It was a lonely night and only the moon was there to watch as the young boy walked the empty path, footsteps echoing quietly in the silence.

Rumors about the raid on the warehouse had already begun spreading like wildfire throughout Shibakouen by the time Ranma got to school the next day. Much of it was hearsay and speculation and yet surprisingly accurate. The fight itself had in actuality been so unusual that, for once, the wild exaggerations and fantastic stories that rumor mills normally spun weren't too far from the truth.

But it was the physical evidence that spoke volumes. Scores of students from the third-year classes returned to school the next day beaten, bruised and battered with the tell-tale signs of a ferocious battle, nearly half of them from class 3-A. Nobody had been seriously injured, but, in simple numbers, the score was interpreted as something like this:

Class 3-D: 1,000,000

Class 3-A: 5

And so while the students who fought the ambush muttered their versions of the night's events reservedly, emphasizing the fact that the saboteurs had fled, the atmosphere in 3-D's homeroom buzzed with excitement. Etsuya and the others recounted the night breathlessly, boasting about how they walked into the ambush and still managed to fight their way through a sea of a thousand enemies. They showed their injuries proudly—everything from the large cut on Takeru's forehead to the dog bites on Osamu's shoulders—and even laughed about how scared they had been at times. Their story, though no doubt also filled with exaggerations of its own, rang with the sound of truth.

And so even though the raid had technically failed, the ambush went down in Shibakouen history as another incredible exploit of the infamous class 3-D, and the already well-known fighters involved gained an even greater mystique. Etsuya's leadership and the story of how he selflessly returned to help Osamu and Takeru escape especially impressed those who heard it, earning the respect of even his enemies in 3-A.

But more than anyone it was Ranma who gained from the fight; because out of everyone involved, he was the only one to return unscathed. Every other student had some sort of injury—even the least injured student from 3-A had a few bruises—but the next morning Ranma hopped off the school wall and walked to class whistling cheerfully without so much as a scratch on his face. People had been so skeptical at first that he took to wearing his sleeves rolled up just to show that he really was uninjured. Of course, there those from the fight who continued to swear they had injured him. Ranma's only reply when anybody brought it up was to pull up his sleeves and ask if he looked injured.

And so the story spread throughout Shibakouen about the new kid in Class 3-D: Ranma Saotome, the Wild Stallion who couldn't be touched.