There will be: language, nudity, sex, violence, death, and rather detailed descriptions of such. I'm an adult, and a writer. I revel in the coincidence that I'm also an adult writer.

I only own what someone else does not.

It took her fifteen thousand years. Riding the cresting rise and fall of countless empires and civilizations. A gambit that would leave the world dead and cold... unless she rose again. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Not life, or death, or eternal madness, or damning the galaxy to the cold death of time and space torn asunder.

Betrayal is just one of a million tools, in the machine she'd wrought, just for another chance. And nothing will stand in her way.

Eclipsed

Chapter Four: Eyes Wide Shut

–

In a place that wasn't really part of the universe that was known, a lone woman watched as the icon of her station flickered, its power drain severely taxing what remained of her planetary binding. Despite this, the woman wore a fierce smile, totally contrary to how the loss of power to the Gates of Time should have affected her.

"It's finally time," she muttered, before addressing the massive portal before her. "Gates, enter administrative mode."

Unlike every other time she'd attempted such a command, there was no counter-sign required by a member of the Serenity bloodline, confirming her earlier theories. Setsuna lost the battle against her rising joy, letting loose a primal yell of triumph as her legacy was finally released to her full control once more. Dim and unsteady, holographic screens appeared around the Gate, awaiting her attention. "Authorization accepted, Guardian Pluto."

Though it pained her, she knew that the coming days would require all the power she could scrape up. It was only a temporary measure, but even knowing such a thing, Setsuna felt like she was betraying a close friend with her next words. And there was of course the temptation to use the Gates to their fullest... but she had waited this long. A little more wouldn't break her, and this... what it meant cascaded over her in an almost erotic feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment. She'd won. Her gambit had worked. "Initiate emergency power conservation mode."

"Warning," the dulcet tones of the AI chimed at her, "this action will cause a cessation in the higher functions of the Time Gates. Only emergency protocols will remain active. Do you wish to proceed?"

"Yes," the Senshi of Pluto stated, somewhat thickly.

For a moment nothing happened, and then the change that came was nearly anticlimactic. The small panes that offered her detailed and richer data than she'd been able to pry from her legacy for over fifteen-thousand years winked out, as the central display which swirled and writhed in its contained fury, a window into the flow of time itself, dimmed and grew still. "Emergency power conservation mode active," the Gates informed her, the more organic tones of the usual AI now absent in favor of a generic, inflectionless monotone.

"Route all emergency and security notifications to the Key."

"Acknowledged."

With a deep breath, she gave her final order. "Seal Charon Castle. Disable all teleportation into or out of phased space-time. Shutdown all command interfaces, pending reactivation based only on personal authorization, Setsuna Meiou."

There was a tense moment, before the expected response came. "Acknowledged. Restoration of functions available through Key interface. Warning. Temporal and spacial lockdown imminent. Please vacate phased space. You have one minute to comply."

"More than enough time," she murmured, before teleporting back to Earth.

–

Though Ranma planned to make a good first impression at his new school, unlike last time, there were some very serious snags waiting for him, reinforcing the sense of dread that had been creeping up on him since waking up. One of those snags happened to be the woman he had hoped would simply direct him to his class, after finishing up his transfer paperwork.

Setsuna Meiou, however, had other plans. "I have received the transcripts from your former school," the assistant aide explained, while Ranma wondered how someone who looked to be only maybe a handful of years older than him gotten to be in her position. Not that he doubted her ability – she seemed every inch the professional, down to her suit jacket over what looked to be a silk blouse – but she was younger than he'd expected. Pretty, though, he had to admit, even if the dark green hair had given him pause, making the young man think of Amazons. The deep red eyes and light tan only made him more wary, till she began to speak, dismissing any concerns. If anything, the slight European accent she had reassured him the most. Still, there was something familiar about her, and that seemed to quiet – if not dismiss – the buzzing wariness that had been sitting in the back of his mind all day. Something recent... Realizing he was staring, Ranma jerked slightly, catching the end of what the woman was saying. "...and I have to say, some of this is pretty hard to believe."

Rubbing at his face tiredly and to obscure his moment of distraction, the martial artist favored the woman with a weary grin. "Yeah. Who wrote it?"

"Hinako Ninomiya, and your former Principal, Kuno."

Ranma flinched at the mention of Kuno, but wasn't surprised. "Hinako's stuff will be pretty accurate – though she's a bit hung up on her role as a disciplinarian," Ranma mused, adopting a thoughtful posture.

Setsuna browsed that portion of the file, frowning slightly as she read. "She warns that you're a serious disruption, and nightmare to classroom discipline." Peering up over the file, the emerald-haired woman raised a delicate brow. "Should we expect trouble from you, Saotome?"

"Absolutely."

"OK, that's a relief- wait, what?"

Tapping his chin, Ranma missed the double-take he'd just caused. "Well, I guess I should clarify that." Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Setsuna nodded, waving the young man to continue. "Well, you see," Ranma began, before pausing and sighing gustily. "Uh... hey. This stays between us, right?"

Setsuna spared the young man an assessing glance for a long moment. Apparently coming to some kind of decision, she closed the folder before her and picked up a small legal pad. "Academic and disciplinary material go into the files and records, not personal information." She smiled warmly at the clearly uncomfortable young man before her. "Don't worry – nothing you say that doesn't relate to school will go outside this room."

"Well... alright." Ranma took a moment to compose himself, before continuing quietly. "Best way to explain is to say my Pops is a thief."

Setsuna blinked owlishly, before leaning forward, as if to better hear. "...he's a criminal?"

Backpedaling, Ranma waved his hands before him, but then stopped with a thoughtful expression. "Well... yeah probably. But that's not the point I was trying to make. See, he had this bad habit of making deals and backing out of them."

"So he was a con man."

Ranma scratched at his braid nervously. "Yeah. The problem was he'd use me to con people."

Surprise marked the young woman's features. "You were his accomplice?"

"No! Er, oh man," slumping, Ranma tugged sharply on his braid, trying to focus his thoughts on what he meant to say. "Let me give you an example. While we were traveling, my old man met this chef, who worked out of a yatai."

"A vending cart," Setsuna supplied, getting a nod in return.

"Right," the martial artist agreed. "Well, I was getting real close to the chef's kid, since both of us were being trained by our fathers to be martial artists. Pops liked having the food while we were on the move, but didn't like the idea of us being tied down, and saw an opportunity, so he took it. Short version, he made a deal with the chef. He'd engage me to his kid, in exchange for the yatai."

Setsuna finished the note on her pad, and nodded. "A verbal agreement, with a dowry, more or less."

"Only Pops never meant to go through with it," Ranma reminded. "The cook let Pop's tab go, which I guess was part of why he made the deal. Old man could eat his weight a few times over, in a day. Little while later, he realized the cook was good enough to catch him if he tried to just take off, so he asked me to choose – the girl, or the food."

"And how old were you?"

"Six," Ranma explained with a wry look. "And I didn't know that the cook's kid was a girl, then, or the arrangement even." Seeing the woman's disbelieving look, Ranma rolled his eyes. "Hey, I wasn't around a lot of other kids when I was little, and Pops had some really stupid views on girls, so sue me if I wasn't able to tell, when it wasn't ever brought up.

"Anyway, so I chose the food. Pops then spouted off some cockamamie excuse, and ran off with the yatai, leaving the cook and my friend in the dust, with me riding on the cart."

Frowning, Setsuna looked up at the clearly displeased young man before her. "You weren't aware of what he was doing at the time, but understood it later?"

As he looked to the side, refusing to meet the woman's eyes, Ranma nodded. "Yeah. It took a while, but once we started being around people and just... I guess society in general again, I figured out what he was doing. That it wasn't right." Laughing quietly for a moment while he considered something, Ranma looked back to the woman. In the lower light of the office, his blue eyes nearly shone, "It's hard to see that you're doing something wrong, when you've not got anything else to judge it by."

After suppressing an odd shiver at Ranma's wording and intensity, Setsuna motioned for him to continue.

"The problems you're worried about didn't come up till we got someplace to settle," the Saotome heir elaborated. "See, with him and me in one place, all these deals and problems he'd left behind started coming back home to roost. All those people he conned, sold me out to, engaged me to-"

"Wait," Setsuna interrupted, holding up a hand. "He engaged you as part of his con, repeatedly?"

"More times than I can recall," the martial artist tiredly replied. "And that's the problem. Pops used that to get us food, bed and lodging, training, sometimes even just a single meal," Ranma explained, bitterness dripping from his words. "So when we settled down in Nerima, all these people started showing up. Most were martial artists of some sort, which-"

"Lead to all the fights, conflict, and destruction," the young woman finished for him. "I see now. And these people focused on you, not your father?"

Clearly annoyed at the memories, if not the current situation, Ranma barked a laugh. "Yeah. They didn't want to admit they'd been conned so easy, so they bypassed blame and went for the bottom line. Easier to maintain their dignity that way, rather than admit they were duped by that idiot. Problem was, Pops was using family honor and my own morals against me, to hold me in another engagement he'd set up before I was born."

Seeing the situation a bit more clearly, Setsuna made a few more notations on her pad. "So with you refusing to honor their agreements, things devolved into conflict."

"Pretty much," Ranma agreed. "Tends to follow me around, though without the three biggest issues on my back, it shouldn't be quite so bad now. Well, they aren't handled completely, but I'm getting there."

"You worked to resolve some of these issues before transferring?" Seeing Ranma's nod, the woman relaxed visibly. "That is reassuring. Juuban may have its own unique... situations, but the general student body isn't as skilled in martial arts as Furinkan. I wouldn't want there to be injuries due to such things."

Ranma shook his head. "I don't let my fights involve innocents if I can help it. Goes against my code."

"Code?"

"I decided early on that I wanted to help people, to protect them from the kind of things that later on I saw my Pops doing. Basically, that as a martial artist, I'm bound by my personal honor to help those that need it. This means protecting people who can't protect themselves, and if I am in a fight, keeping it from spilling out beyond me and the opponent when I can."

"Power and responsibility," Setsuna summed up, getting a nod in reply. "I can understand that." Taking a handwritten letter from Ranma's record, she laid it gingerly on the desk. "This, I was informed, may be a sensitive topic. So please, bear with me and let me explain first."

"After reviewing your file, this letter, and the transcripts from Principal Kuno and your previous homeroom teacher, we have decided against letting you attend any kind of physical education class."

Ranma stared at the woman, frankly not understanding. "I... what?"

Setsuna favored him with an unsteady smile. "One, we don't feel you'd gain anything from the classes – and would in fact cause some loss of morale. Your stated and recorded physical abilities far outshine those of the typical High School student," she was pleased Ranma focused on the praise, rather than the word 'recorded' in her explanation. "Secondly, there is the issue of locker rooms and your... condition."

All hints of good cheer drained out of the young man, to be replaced by a glacial neutrality. "My 'condition'?"

The young woman across from him nodded, her own professional demeanor overwriting her earlier friendliness. "Your father contacted us, in regard to it, though his letter was rather... questionable. Normally, I'd not believe such a wild story, but there was enough proof from your previous school to back up the facts.

"Considering JMHS's already significant issues, with Juuban being targeted recently for far too many supernatural events, the administration feels its in the school's best interests to do the following. First, we need to minimize any potential for harassment – and retaliation. This means restricting the use of the gym showers and locker room."

Grudgingly, Ranma acknowledged that, though he was curious about Genma's letter. He'd find out in time, and it seemed that any attempt the man had made to stall Ranma's plans had fallen through, luckily. Putting that aside for later, Ranma had to admit there were more times than he could count that he recalled some wise-ass flipping his water during a shower to cold, or dumping a bucket of ice-water on his head, just to get a free look at a naked girl. Somehow, it usually escaped that person's mind that Ranma was notorious for not only disliking his curse, but being someone you didn't really want to piss off. They typically recalled those things in the nurse's office, later.

The flip side was possibly worse, because Ranma typically made it clear he was not a girl. The few times he'd gotten locked in a female form, the girls of Furinkan – rallied by Akane's constant squawking of 'pervert!' – had refused to let him use their showers. It didn't matter that he'd been brute-force desensitized to the female form by his own situation since most people, like Akane, seemed to just assume he used it as an easy way to be a voyeur, or worse. Basically locked out of any acceptable recourse, Ranma had been forced to sneak into the teacher's showers. That often didn't work out too well, either.

"Secondly, the condition will need to be made public."

Considering the logic of Setsuna's words, he briefly nodded. "I agree with what you're saying about locker rooms. But about it being made public-"

"I'd not suggest it, unless it was for your own comfort, safety, and benefit," she interrupted, before Ranma could build his logical defenses too tightly. "If it is openly known, there's no chance of you being blackmailed or otherwise put in a compromising position because of it. Other students would be cautioned not to harass or discriminate against you over it, as that falls within our guidelines, and you wouldn't need to rely on this alter-ego," pausing, she addressed the letter again, "...Ranko."

"One condition," Ranma countered, clearly displeased. "No girl's uniform – no matter what."

Setsuna paused, then nodded, making a notation. "I can tentatively agree to that, but if you need to maintain that form for an extended period," she flipped over a picture of Ranma's female form, dripping wet, annoyed, and clearly not enjoying the chill weather, as indicated by her clear physical reaction. The position of the photo masked Setsuna's private, wry smile. "...we will require you to wear the proper undergarments."

Ranma grit his teeth for only a moment. Most of his arguments against such things were more habit now, than his true feelings, but it still irked him. This meant keeping women's underwear on hand pretty much all the time, just in case. More than anything else, he dreaded the fallout that would cause if it came to light publicly, over any personal issues involving wearing a bra and panties. It seems he'd have a reason to practice the Hidden Weapons technique, after all.

He could understand why, though. Despite the undershirt and Chinese jacket, Ranma knew his female form filled those out far too well. Even though he only recently acquired a shred of female modesty, the martial artist agreed that preserving some decency would prevent a number of problems. Happosai wannabes, claims he was a pervert, or accusations on fishing for guys, being the most common he could recall. Or, with a shudder, Ranma admitted, another Kuno.

"Deal," he agreed quickly, after that thought.

"There is one last thing I would like to ask you," the emerald-haired woman voiced, as she gathered up her materials, the records, and her notes. "This was as a direct request of your former Principal, and it gave us some... hesitation.

"Why would he suggest we shave your head, before admitting you?"

After banging his head into the desk before him a few times, Ranma let himself out, smiling despite himself a the sound of the woman's quiet laughter behind him. The sound settled a weary sadness in him that had been there since he awakened that morning, for some reason. Maybe that good impression wasn't a loss, after all.

–