A Duet of Fists

Chapter 4

The instant the boys left the cave, they knew they would regret not bringing cold weather gear. A sharp wind scoured an icy desert, barren plain with a howl they felt reverberate deep in their chests. Save for small clusters of boulders, nothing interrupted the desolate view of snow and ice, which spread unchanging from horizon to horizon. Above, a moon shone brightly in a starless sky, bathing the landscape in a pale light which cast inky black shadows.

Ryouga set his pack down, digging through it for anything which might help him ward off the chill. His desert cloak was the only thing he found, and Ryouga sighed glumly. Meant to ward off the sandstorms he occasionally found himself walking through, it would do little to keep him warm, though it might take the edge off the wind. The Lost Boy looked up to see Ranma scowling as he pulled on his Chinese Military jacket, and smiled a bit at the thought that the pigtailed wonder was even less prepared than he.

"So... which way?" Ranma asked, glancing around the tundra in vain for a landmark. His eyes finally widened as he spotted a twinkle in the distance. "Look, over there!"

"Could be anything," Ryouga muttered as he squinted his eyes. He took a deep breath and shrugged. "Let's go. It's not like there's anything else."

Ranma flashed him a rare grin of camaraderie, patting the fanged boy on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, man! In an hour, we'll have these chains off of our arms and we'll be back in Nerima!"

Over an hour later, Ranma's future as a fortune teller was dead and buried. Though they had not yet reached whatever it was that had been twinkling in the reflected moonlight, their hopes that it would be Yuki-onna's dwelling were dwindling. It had stopped shining nearly twenty minutes ago as the moon had traced a path in the sky, and only Ranma's gut feeling that they were still headed toward it drove them on as the weather slowly worsened, threatening a blizzard of epic proportions.

Hands and feet numb and their faces ablaze with the cold, they finally reached the object which had grabbed their attention. Proudly thrusting itself above the bitter landscape, a sharp, dagger-shaped boulder perched atop another rock which had tumbled to the ground. As high as it was, only the occasional icy rain would reach it, leaving it coated with a layer of solid ice nearly half a foot thick, proudly presenting a distorted reflection of everything around it.

Ryouga's fist shattered the ice and split the boulder in two, propelling the two halves away to scatter a small group of boulders with a cacophony of clacks and crunches. The fanged boy spun, grabbing his traveling companion by the front of his shirt.

"This is all your fault, Ranma!" Ryouga yelled, throwing his free hand out to point accusingly at the landscape. "Over an hour of this bitter cold for just another rock!"

"I should have known something was up when you agreed to come this way!" Ranma retorted, windmilling his arm to break the cloaked boy's grip. He took a step towards his involuntary companion, their noses almost touching. The roiling typhoon of Ranma's eyes met the avalanche of rock and mud in his partners.

Simultaneously, as if the act had been planned, they threw a chained fist at one another's face. As one, they deflected the attack with their other arm and followed up with a knee to the sternum. Ranma gasped and Ryouga grunted as their attacks separated the two foes, to hang motionless in the air as momentum fought magic before they dropped gracelessly to the ground, exactly thirty feet apart.

The wind howled as the opponents stood, sizing one another up. The first flakes of snow caressed their forms as they stalked in a circle, looking for any opening they could exploit, any weakness they could attack.

Ranma spotted one first. Or perhaps Ryouga merely feigned inattention to tempt his foe to action. Whatever the cause, the blue-eyed youth flowed across the space separating the pair, dropping to his knees just before he collided with his opponent, sliding across the ice as he spun in a vicious backhand aimed at his enemy's knees.

Ryouga spun into the attack, the backhand spinning into the space between his legs. The shaggy-haired young man brought his right knee up in a strike towards his opponent's face, jumping with his left leg to dodge Ranma's blow and add extra force. His eyes widened in surprise as the pigtailed-boy grinned, contorting his head and torso around the blow as he rose to a crouch, allowing their momentum to place him behind Ryouga and ready to strike.

Ryouga didn't bother trying to hide his groans as he felt a flurry of fists pummel his undefended back, mercifully cut short as the blows which sapped his strength pushed him from his attacker. He crashed to the ground, only rolling to his feet and slipping past or deflecting the attacks which followed him. A dozen years of martial arts training, now as much apart of his instincts as the need to breathe, were the thin line between him and defeat as his mind fought to catch up to the action.

Ranma's widened and with his one planted foot leaped up and over Ryouga, abandoning a leg sweep as Ryouga brushed off a flurry of jabs to his midsection to attempt a double-handed hammer blow. The Lost Boy's momentum continued the blow, shattering a boulder into thousands of sharp pebbles.

"You're sloppier than usual, P-chan," Ranma noted, landing gracefully a short distance away. His eyes danced with a feral excitement as Ryouga stood, the trembling of his rage throwing the pebbles in his cloak off in clattering waves. "Has all this cold frozen your brain, too? You're not even trying!"

"I'm going to destroy you for dragging me into this, Ranma!" The enraged youth bellowed, biting off the name which tasted like ashes in his mouth. A sickly green aura caressed the young man and everything around him, the snow caught in the gale fighting against the wind to escape the hostility.

"You ain't succeeded before, I don't see why this time'll be any different," Ranma muttered with a snort, his own brilliant yellow aura flashing around him and bathing the snow in an ever shifting symphony of jagged light.

Limbs strengthened by the chi now flowing their bodies, the boys clashed together in a stunning display of agility, dexterity, and raw power. Their movements could have been a perfectly choreographed dance, save for the occasional groan of pain as hardened knuckles, elbows, or feet struck unguarded flesh.

The second telling blow against Ryouga came from a slight miscalculation. He landed on a patch of ice, his feet sliding apart just enough to slow him from leaping back for a fraction of a second. In that minuscule span of time, the pigtailed boy exploited the opening to land a brutal right cross which spun his unfortunate around once before he collapsed to the ground.

Ranma's grin faded a little as Ryouga pushed himself to his feet, his endurance for punishment as undiminished as ever. The fanged boy's answering grin was as feral as Ranma's own.

"The circumstances of a fight are just as important as your foe, P-chan!" Ranma taunted above the howling gale whipping snow around the battling youths, his right index finger wagging as if scolding a misbehaving child. Ryouga felt the pounding of his heart in his temples as he glared at that finger, the rage driving him subsumed by the plan which sprang into his mind as a trio of gold links glinted in the moonlight.

Ranma tensed his legs and pounced, his arc carrying him high into the air. As he reached the apex of his leap, Ryouga grinned despite the sudden sting of hail on his skin. It was almost like Ranma knew of the plan and had done his best to walk into it. Holding his arm in front of him, the bandanna capped youth hurled himself back, his feet immediately finding purchase on the sturdy boulder behind. Ranma's eyes widened as he felt the slight tug on his right arm, and Ryouga savoured the self-reproach in his foe's eyes as they helplessly traveled over the platinum chain on his own arm.

Even as the pigtailed boy twisted in mid-air, as if to prevent what was coming Ryouga's powerful downward yank plucked Ranma from the path of his fall, launching him in a graceless flight towards his enemy. Ryouga scowled as he quickly realized Ranma would hit the ground before passing by him and threw himself to compensate, torquing his body and catching Ranma in the ribs with a powerful kick as they passed in the air.

Ranma grunted and then yelled to ward off the pain as first Ryouga's foot, then the ice covered ground battered his body. As he rolled to his feet his eyes instantly sought the tan cloak, and he warily tracked his opponent's movements as his hand probed the sharp pain in his left side. Not broken, but the flickering ember of pain flaring in time with the knives poking his side with each breath told him his ribs were angry with the punishment to which he was subjecting them.

Ryouga's back was complaining nearly as loudly, though he was doing his best to hide it. His kidneys were shouting dire implications about their retribution to his nervous system later, and his soon mumbled warnings that it would soon protest very loudly if he continued to contort it.

Pain clouding their minds, hail obscuring their vision, the icy chill of the tundra they found themselves lost in flaying their nerves, the pair prepared to launch themselves once more at one another in a brutal exchange of pain interspersed with an acrobatic ballet.

Thus, the abrupt end of the storm bringing an absolute silence broke their concentration, the only sound the last pitter-patter of the hail striking snow and ice.

"Explain yourselves," A voice demanded in a stern, emotionless whisper. Ranma felt a chill up his spine as he felt the malice in that voice, more terrible than Akane's most rage-drenched cry. Ryouga hunched his shoulders and bowed his head to stare at the ground, as if hoping that the source of that voice would somehow lose notice of him.

They turned to find a petite woman staring at them with eyes which glowed white, lacking anything to give the boys an impression of where she was looking, though the weight of that gaze left both with no doubt she was looking at them. The stark brilliance of her eyes was matched only by her hair, dangling to her ankles in unbound locks so luminous and bright they made the snow on the ground appear filthy by comparison. While she possessed the high cheekbones, full lips, narrow jaw and pointed chin to take her to a realm beyond beautiful, the flat line of her mouth and the lack of feeling or mercy in her eyes made the reality of her beauty incomprehensible to the stunned duo.

One hand gracefully rose, the sleeve of her jet black kimono pulling back only slightly to reveal half an alabaster forearm. Tapered fingers clenched into her palm, one finger pointed at the space between the pair, she repeated, "Explain yourselves."

The words were softer, quieter, a mere echo of the previous statement. The lack of volume, the caress of her voice as it fought the silence to gently brush their ears only increased the primal terror gibbering at their instincts.

Ranma and Ryouga both knew there would be no second echo. The thought of what this woman could do in it's stead prompted them to speak before the moment stretched an instant longer. The range of Ranma's voice fought against the depth of Ryouga's, turning their explanation into a discordant cacophony which slowly trailed off as the pair noticed the terrible woman's mouth slip into the merest shadow of a frown.

They stood silently, and Ranma flinched when the woman's eyes widened, as those two blazing white orbs noticed, for the first time, the chain on his arm. The boys straightened as the fear smothering them vanished, and knew then that their fear had not been natural.

Though when the woman spun and began to stride away, they stared. A rumble in the sky and the wind rising briefly to howl across the ice as it stabbed through their meager clothing prompted them to follow. As they did, they exchanged a quick glance, reading in the other's eyes the thought now in the center of their thoughts: Maybe some of the fear wasn't caused by the woman's magic.

As they followed this chilly lady through the frozen night, Ranma slowly learned a bit more respect for Ryouga's endurance. He knew the cloak couldn't be much better than his dark green wool coat at keeping out the wind. He also knew he would have succumbed to the bitter cold without the Soul of Ice. Ryouga had never learned the technique, yet he continued to match Ranma's pace step for step with no hint of a stumble or breath of complaint.

Though Ranma hadn't given much thought to what the woman's house would look like, too preoccupied with putting one foot in front of the other and throwing the whole of his being into the Soul of Ice to ward off the worst of the cold, so it was a surprise to stride out of a snow-blanketed forest to find himself face to face with a cozy wooden cottage. A rough stone foundation of split boulders mortared together supported felled tree trunks, two large windows shooting warm light across the veranda circling the building and casting two bright lances across the unbroken snow. Even more jarring to was the chimney rising from the roof, smoke trailing from it's opening promising an end to the chill gnawing on his bones.

As the trio mounted the steps, the woman spun in place as she reached the porch, freezing the boys in place as their feet touched the first step to the cottage's door. The fire dancing in bright blue irises surprised them even more, the blazing white light no longer turning her beautiful face into a vision of terror. She wore an open frown, as if the warmth of the cottage had melted the ice they'd seen in countenance when she'd first bade them to follow.

"Understand something, mortals," The woman growled in a tone as hot as her previous words had been cold. "You are the first humans to enter my domain without my permission for over a thousand years. The only reason I didn't leave you bickering children in the wastes to freeze is a desire to see my property returned to me. Put one toe out of line and I will personally ensure you spend an eternity feeling the cold displeasure of my realm without the numb relief of death!"

She spun, stalking across wooden planks to wrench open her door and enter her home. Exchanging identical looks of confusion, the boys mounted the steps and warily entered the cottage.

An enormous hearth dominated the wall to their right, nearly seven feet deep and twice that across. In the center of the fireplace a low blaze merrily danced, casting shifting shadows while being fueled by nothing at all. Three low, heavily cushioned chairs surrounded the fire. Two were identical, and one fashioned similarly, though the seat was a little more narrow and the back a little higher. Thick wool rugs, ranging from a dark green to a bright blue, combined with the dancing light to gave the impression that the floor was a churning pool of water. Opposite the fire a sturdy, well carved table stood in front of a long counter, six three-legged stools pushed in neatly underneath. On the far wall, two doors lined the left side, the second door tucked in neatly underneath thick stairs leading to the cottage's second floor.

Only a large Sony flatpanel TV and a large shelf of DVDs, faced by a comfortable-looking leather sofa, spoiled the rustic feel.

Sitting in one of the two identical arm chairs sat a dark-haired man, reading a thick book bound in what appeared to be leather. Nestled into the deep green fabric of the chair, the man could have passed for just another Japanese college student. Only the points of four blood-red horns and a decidedly dark red tinge to thoroughly tanned skin ruined the effect, vibrant red eyes alight with mischief as he brushed back an unruly lock of deep brown hair. He flashed the pair of boys a toothy grin marred only by sharp fangs, placing the thick tome on his lap on a nearby table as he got to his feet.

"Well, you two must be the cause of all that fuss outside. The weather here is sensitive to the emotions of the denizens, which is how the little lady upstairs knew you were here... You two must have been really going at it to cause a gale like that!" The man strode across the wool rugs, extending a hand towards Ranma. "The name's Maza'grameph. You can call me Maz if you like. Every body does. No point twisting your tongue trying to pronounce a name designed for a mouth full of fangs," he added, his grin briefly transforming into a smirk.

"Saotome Ranma," the pigtailed boy offered, warily shaking the dusky-skinned man's hand. The man's grip was surprisingly strong, and Ranma bit back a grunt as he felt sharp talons dig lightly into the back of his hand. After a second the constricting force ended, and the pigtailed boy fought the urge to rub his hand as the man's eyes flashed with glee.

"Hibiki Ryouga," the Lost Boy said as Maz offered his hand. The older man's grip could have crushed a boulder into gravel, and Ryouga met that strength with the same terrible power, feeling the tendons on his arm quiver. Maz's grin seemed strained for a moment, his eyes tightening as the mirth seemed to shrivel, before both broke the handshake at the same time.

"You must be a little bit cold. Why don't we sit by the fire until my wife decides to come down and deal with whatever she brought you here for," The boys followed the man to the trio of warm armchairs, being careful to take off their sodden outerwear and drape it over the thick mantle before sinking gratefully into the warm embrace of the soft green fabric. "Speaking of which, what in the name of Infernus brings a pair of mortals to a realm so cold it's only a hair's-breadth away from being an elemental plane?"

"The short version is we've got these on us," Ranma announced with a dour chuckle, pulling back his sleeve to show their host the chains hugging his forearm. Ryouga raised his forearm as well, though his gaze seemed to be lost in the fire, his attention as lost to the hypnotic dancing of the flames as he himself usually was. Ranma shrugged it off, focused more on the way the man's eyes narrowed.

"Those chains have a hint of my mother-in-law's essence in them," The man murmured, rubbing his chin with his knuckles as he leaned forward. He cocked his head as his eyes traced the chains criss-crossing Ranma's arm. "I get the sense though, that the chain on your friend's arm was meant to go on your left arm. The magic on his chain isn't working quite right, and it's fighting the magic binding itself to his arm to get to yours."

"Yeah, well... We were fighting when the old perv tried to put these on me," Ranma admitted with a grin. Turning to face the man directly, he gestured over his shoulder at Ryouga with a thumb. "Pig-boy here and I were both lining up to throw a punch when the chains tried to get me. His arm blocked mine."

"This old perv must have corrupted the spell, then," The man concluded. He pointed one finger at Ranma's face, the firelight reflecting off the talon at the end. "The spell, when used correctly, not only binds the subject unerringly, but also confers a multitude of blessings and protections. Boons that you both appear to lack almost entirely."

"Almost entirely?" Ranma groused, his agile mind already coming up with the one thing which had gone right. "Let me guess: Moody over there got some sort of protection from magic."

"Got it in one," Maz quipped, leaning back in his chair. He rested his elbows on the arm rests of the chair, twining his fingers together and resting his hands on his chest. "Of course, you both have a limited amount of immunity to magic thanks to the mere presence of the chains, though I wouldn't count on that to quell anything but the most primitive sort of magic."

Ranma then noticed something. Something important, vital to his being and generally at the forefront of his thoughts when he was dealing with magic. He sat in a comfortable arm chair, freezing water running in rivulets down his neck and torso. He sat.

"At least it looks like my Jusenkyo curse ain't gonna be a problem," Ranma announced, a smile fighting it's way to his face and staying there. He patted his chest, enjoying the presence of a firm, flat surface instead of a something soft and... sensitive. "Things are looking up!"

"As long as you're here, at least," Maz noted with a chuckle. He lifted a hand to wave around the cabin. "Miyuki's realm is so far removed from the mortal plane that the magic of your curse doesn't have the power to enforce itself. Most of the other planes you could survive in are a lot closer. Probably close enough for the trigger to assert itself."

"Did you really have to tell the mortal my name?" A voice growled, and Ranma turned his head to see Yuki-onna standing behind their chairs, now wearing a pair of light pink flannel pajamas decorated with baby blue rabbits. Ranma blinked, wondering if he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming, but the clothes remained unchanged. The stern faced woman shot a look at Maz which should have destroyed him on the spot. A quick glance at Ryouga, now snoring softly with his head tilted back, showed Ranma how the fiery ice-woman wasn't noticed.

"An unintentional slip of the tongue, dearest," the man noted without a hint of contrition, his grin only serving to deepen the growling in the woman's throat. He didn't look sorry. Ranma was amazed that the demon could make a pout look smug. "It won't happen again."

"As sincere as my realm is warm," the noted, her lips quirking up into a smile. "You're lucky your charm hasn't faded, you Infernal imp. You get away with more impudence in a day than I've allowed anyone else to show in a lifetime."

"Of course I do. I'll get away with it as long as my roguish good looks and quick wit continue to melt the ice in your veins," Maz noted with a smile. He clenched his right hand into a fist, elbow planted on the armrest of his chair, lounging with all the languid grace of the most feral predator. "Since I'm the best looking spirit around and no other can match the dexterity of my tongue, you shall find yourself the victim of impudence until the end of time."

"No doubt," The woman murmured, using the opportunity to sit across her husband's lap and steal half of the backrest for herself, her lower back planted firmly at the top of the chair, a move her cushion protested only half-heartedly. Ranma noted for the first time that the fabric of the chair in which he sat was far less worn, almost like it had been bought years after it's duplicate sitting in front of the fire. He noted the stiffness of the little-used springs in the cushions and guessed that the chair he sat in saw little use.

The woman, Miyuki, certainly didn't seem to care he was sitting in her chair. She was too busy exchanging quite, giggle-filled bickers with the man squirming underneath her. Ranma licked his lips, wanting to ask for more information but not wanting to interrupt.

Just as he was about to quietly broach the silence, the slam of a door irrevocably shattered it, the sound simple the first rumble of thunder before a massive storm as the chill wind invaded the warmth of the house.

"All I ask is that you guys not fight for one hour a day! Just an hour! You've got twenty three hours surrounding that time to bicker all you like! Cheng is just an old chinese ghost, he can't take a full snowstorm! He had to escape back to the plane of his afterlife to avoid obliteration!" The voice was young, full of heated rage. A deep breath announced that the tirade was only beginning. Ranma was suddenly very glad he was hidden from view, and sunk deeper in the chair to further shield himself from notice. "Do you two know how hard it was to convince him to teach me at all, let alone on this plane? He'll never come back, now!"

"Well, sweetie, you see-" Maz tried, holding a hand towards her, palm out.

"Don't you sweetie me, dad!" A sharp growl cut off the demon before he could continue. The voice continued in a sickly sweet tone, as if the person were talking to a toddler. "I know it's in your nature to bait mom into arguments. Everyone knows you're very, very good at it. You need not exercise your... talent, for lack of a better word, every damned time you get the opportunity!"

"It's not my fault every time the snow flies around here..." Maz muttered, making the words half sound like a prayer. His eyes flicked towards Ranma. "That storm was our guests. You can scold them about it if you like."

"I'll have a few words to say to them when I see them," the voice growled, stomping towards the chair in which Ryouga sat. As a pale hand slapped down on the top of the chair and a young girl in a dark gray dogi vaulted the top of the chair, Ranma realized she hadn't noticed that the chairs were occupied.

Whether it was coincidence or fate, Ryouga's hand happened to be in the perfect position to pad the girl's behind from his solid thighs. Her left leg clipped his arm as she fell, momentum throwing Ryouga's other hand briefly into the air before it landed on her chest.

Confused by the sudden weight on his lap and the softness in his hands, Ryouga's fingers twitched as he fought his way to the land of the consciousness. Ranma couldn't decide whether to laugh or wince at the odd sight of righteous female wrath being vented on someone besides him. Ryouga soon lost consciousness again, aided by a few sharp blows.

Angry eyes found Ranma.

"Who the hell are you, and why should I let this ass live?"

"I'm Saotome Ranma," Ranma offered with a resigned sigh. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He idly wondered if he was ever destined to make a good first impression on anyone he ever met. "That's Hibiki Ryouga. Sorry 'bout this."

Author's Notes

Originally this chapter was slated to be longer, but weighing in at nearly 5,000 words, that scene was just too perfect an end to waste. For those wondering, Maza'grameph's name is pronounced with short sounding As and the ph sounding like a soft F. Pretty much the way it looks is the way it's said.

The idea of Yuki-onna being a title passed mother to daughter was inspired by On A Pale Horse by Piers Anthony. Though the remaining books in that series failed to tweak my interest, the initial offering is worth the read if you can find it.

And guys, while I can't promise a new chapter within days or even a couple weeks, there won't be such a long gap again. Scout's honour.

Cheers,

Gaming Ikari