Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Disclaimer part 2: There is completely non-graphic sex in this chapter. It is not a lemon, or a lime, and is certainly no worse than anything you'd get in a middle school health class, but be forewarned. If you've ever laughed at a dirty joke, you'll be fine.

The Lady of the Mountain

by: Flashfyre5

Chapter 6: The Disaster

The letter, when it arrived, really should have alarmed Ranma. It had been two weeks since his abortive wedding to Akane and three and a half since the two of them had returned from China. Things had been quiet since the wedding—quiet in a way that simply had never been the case in Nerima. Ukyou had stayed home from school. Shampoo hadn't been seen outside of the Nekohanten. Nobody had heard word one from the entire Kuno clan. The letter, then, should have been regarded as the equivalent of high-explosive, undetonated ordinance, rather than with a mixture of cautious confusion, as it had been. It read as follows:

Son in Law,

I am certain that you will agree with me when I say that the current state of affairs has persisted for far too long. Your marriage to my great-granddaughter has represented a problem to yourself, to myself, to her, and to, at the very least, three other young women in the area. I would like to meet with you this afternoon to discuss a permanent resolution to our shared problem.

You have my word of honor that, if you come, you will not be drugged, kidnapped, ensorcelled, or otherwise harmed during or immediately after the meeting, and that this promise of protection will extend to cover all those you hold dear during that same period of time. In return, I ask that you come alone. We have things to discuss that many, ourselves included, will, frankly, not like. I'm sure that you know very well how chaos tends to balloon around here as more people involve themselves in a situation.

Thank you for your discretion,

Khu Lon

"So, waddya make of it?" Ranma asked, handing the letter across the kichen table to Nabiki. The two of them, as well as the entire Tendo clan plus Ranma's father. The letter had appeared overnight, tacked to the front door of the Tendo residence. Nabiki took the letter, read it, then held her hand out again. Ranma grimaced, then pressed a pair of five-hundred yen coins into it. She read the letter again.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?" Nabiki asked. Ranma shrugged. "Well, I don't exactly like it, but I think you're safe if you go." Ranma's face screwed up with doubt.

"I dunno," he said. "It kinda sounds like she's being twisty. Like she's trying to hide what she's really planning to do in the stuff she's promisin' to not do."

"I think so too," Akane agreed. Nabiki shook her head.

"Look, how does Cologne usually do things once she's made up her mind about something?" Nabiki asked. Ranma blinked in surprise.

"I dunno. She's pretty sneaky," Ranma guessed.

"Too true," Genma agreed around a mouthful of rice. Nabiki signed dramatically.

"The full-body cat's tongue," she began, ticking off fingers, "Ryouga and the bakusai tenketsu, you and the hiryuu shoten ha... I could go on," she smirked. "Ranma, when Cologne decides to do something, she just does it. She doesn't pussyfoot around, and she definitely doesn't write letters. This," she waved the letter in question, "is way off base. That means one of two things. One, she didn't actually write it, and she'll tell you so as soon as you poke your head into the Nekohanten. That would be really stupid, because then whoever did write this letter would have just pissed off not one, but two of the best martial artists in town. Option two is that she means business, and that she wrote the letter to try to tell us that." Nabiki snatched up a rice ball and rose from the table. "But that's just my thousand yen's worth. See you at school," she said, and left.

"I dunno," Ranma grumbled, looking again at the letter. "Still seems fishy to me."

"Too true," Genma said again, this time around a mouthful of Ranma's rice. Ranma finally noticed the culinary thievery, and breakfast quickly devolved into a brawl.

Several hours, a fight with Akane about the letter, a ki drain from Hinako as a result of that fight, a hesitant greeting when Ukyou'd finally returned to school, and another fight with Akane about his greeting of Ukyou later, Ranma stood across the street from the Nekohanten, uncertain. The noodle shop was closed, the windows shuttered. He could see a light on in Shampoo's window, on the second-story living area. Mousse's room was dark, as was Cologne's.

"Damn, this is a really bad idea," Ranma said to himself, and crossed the street. He'd been about a half-second away from asking Ukyou if he could borrow Konatsu as backup, but had decided against it. For one, Akane would throw a fit if he talked to Ukyou again today. He grimaced. Akane still seemed pretty messed up over the failed wedding. Yet another reason why this was a really bad idea. He shook his head.

The second reason that Ranma had decided against getting some backup was because he was certain that Cologne would know if he had, even given Konatsu's incredible ability to hide himself. If Nabiki was right, and Cologne was being honest here, a move like that would probably end badly. Mustering a final bit of resolve, Ranma knocked on the door of the Nekohanten.

"The door is not locked, Son-in-law," Cologne's voice called out almost immediately from inside. Ranma pushed open the door. Inside, Cologne sat alone at a round table in the middle of the room; on a normally busy day, it would have seated four diners. The cafe seemed soulless and empty without its usual hustle and bustle; even the glorious aromas of cooking food that had always permeated the building were gone. Ranma had gotten used to those smells when he'd worked there, months ago, hoping for a chance at the phoenix pill. He closed the door behind him.

"Lock it, please. I do not wish to be disturbed," Cologne requested. Ranma hesitated, then complied. Cologne pulled out her long pipe and lit it. "Please, have a seat," she gestured to the chair across from her.

"You sent this?" Ranma asked, holding up the folded letter. Cologne nodded. Ranma looked at the chair that Cologne had pointed at, then inspected its underside, and finally swapped it for another nearby chair, which he inspected as well. Cologne sighed deeply.

"I must say that it saddens me greatly to see how little you trust my word," she said, and blew out a smoke ring. Ranma sat on his chosen chair cautiously, and when it didn't attempt to ensnare him, relaxed just a bit.

"Well, you haven't exactly given me a lot of reason to trust ya," Ranma said. Cologne's eyes narrowed.

"I have never once lied to you, and my advice has saved your life or your manhood more than once." she said sharply. "Have you forgotten the Musk? Or Happosai's moxibuxtion?"

"Well, you aint always up front either," Ranma countered. "Remember the fake phoenix pill? How about the reversal jewel crap?" Cologne matched Ranma's glare for a few moments, then took another puff from her pipe.

"I suppose that's fair," Cologne admitted. "I wish to be completely candid with you today, Son-in-law. If I am to do this, however, you must trust me, at least a little." She paused. "If it is of any comfort to you, I swear on the lives of my entire clan that I will neither lie to you nor misdirect you today. I would swear on the lives of the entire Amazon tribe, but I do not have the authority to make such an oath." Ranma regarded her evenly for a few minutes before nodding slowly.

"Why the change?" he asked. Cologne cocked an eyebrow. "First a letter to me, now you're taking a pretty serious oath to tell the truth. This aint like you."

"Perceptive, for once," Cologne smiled. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet." She reached inside her robe and withdrew a piece of paper, then tossed it across the table to Ranma. He opened it, and found the page covered in tiny, condensed Chinese script. Part of the back, he found, had been consumed by the missive as well. "I don't suppose that you've learned to read Mandarin yet, have you?" Ranma shook his head. "No, I didn't think so. I will summarize it, then."

"That is a formal letter of command from the council of elders," Cologne said. "It observes that I've been here, away from the tribe and pursuing you, for just over a year now, with no sign that you're any closer to returning with Shampoo than you were when I first arrived. It further notes your recent, and rather spectacular, I might add, defeat of Saffron." Cologne paused, and let the weight of the statement sink in. "In short, that letter is demanding that I stop fooling about and retrieve you. My people want you, Ranma, and they'll stop at nothing to get you, now that they know how powerful you've become."

"Whoa, I thought that this was about settling things between me and Shampoo," Ranma said, rising.

"It is," Cologne said, and gestured at the chair. "Sit down, Son-in-law. I regret the arrival of that letter as much as you do." She puffed on her pipe thoughtfully for a minute, and Ranma eventually sat. "Tell me, how much money have you paid that mercenary Nabiki to comb through our laws in search of a loophole by which you can escape your marriage to Shampoo?"

"Fifteen thousand," Ranma admitted after a few seconds of surprised hesitation.

"And she has found nothing?" Cologne asked. Ranma shook his head. "That is because there is no loophole, or escape clause, or any such nonsense. The law is designed to bring outsiders into the tribe by force. It was first put in place to take husbands from the marauding Hun two thousand years ago. It's meant to be inescapable. By bringing in such mighty bloodlines, we strengthened ourselves to the point where we could resist Saffron, even in his full splendor." She paused for a minute, and shook her head.

"And now," she continued, "we must remain strong enough that the politicians in Beijing will continue to believe that sacrificing a large army in order to subdue a single, small village in the mountains of the far outskirts of their nation is not worth their time or treasure. We need, in short, the blood of champions now, more than ever." Ranma shifted uncomfortably. Cologne let the silence stretch.

"Look, I aint interested in bein' Shampoo's husband, and I aint interested in bein' an Amazon," Ranma said eventually.

"You had best become interested, Son-in-law, or this conversation is moot," Cologne said harshly. "I may think the demands of my... colleagues at home are monumentally stupid, and that they arise because they don't understand you in the least, either as a person or as a warrior, but I am bound by honor to respect and enact the will of the council of elders." This, at least, Ranma could understand some. He calmed a bit. Cologne hopped onto the table and walked to within arm's reach of him.

"Son-in-law, do you think that I could defeat Saffron on my own, as you did?" she asked. Ranma thought about the question before answering.

"No," he said, and Cologne nodded in agreement.

"Why not?" she asked.

'Well, your fighting style's all about disablin' and immobilizing," Ranma said. "But Saffron aint the type to give a crap about that. If you paralyzed his arm, he'd rip it off, grow a new one, and use the old one to club ya."

"You are correct," Cologne agreed, then leaned in. "Now, more importantly, could you defeat me, as you did Saffron?" Ranma stiffened.

"Hey, Ranma Saotome don't lose to anyone!" he declared, and pumped his arm. Cologne bopped him lightly on the head with her staff.

"Enough bluster, Son-in-law. You and I are the only ones here," she said. Ranma deflated.

"Not yet," he admitted.

"Why not?" Cologne asked.

"'Cuz those same pressure points and crap work just fine on me, and you can beat my best technique," Ranma said. "I've gotta beat the crap outta you to win, right? Well, one touch from you in the right spot and I lose an arm or a leg for the fight. After that, I won't be able to keep ya from getting another arm or something, and then it's really over."

"Correct," Cologne agreed, and walked back away across the table. "And I am more grateful than you can imagine that you are at least self-aware enough to know that."

"Hey!" Ranma protested. Cologne stopped and half-glared back at him, over her shoulder.

"Son-in-law, do you have the faintest idea of what would happen were you to find some way of ridding yourself of Shampoo and myself?" she asked softly.

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "I'd hafta find some way of settling things with Ucchan for one. Kodachi..." He shuddered. "I dunno about Kodachi. Been trying to do something about her for over a year. Nothing sticks." He would have continued, but Cologne's soft laughter interrupted him. She shook her head and turned to face Ranma fully.

"Son-in-law, you've lived near us for a year now," Cologne said. "Based on your time with us, how would you describe my people?" Ranma considered the question.

"Strong," he began, and thought some more. "Real strong," he revised, and nodded. "Smart." He paused, then added, "Determined." Cologne nodded, then fixed her eyes on his.

"And based on that, do you really think that my people would let the matter rest if you could simply overcome Shampoo and myself?" she asked, and the question hung in the air between them for a long minute. "It may not seem it, Son-in-law, but I am known as something of a radical reformer among my people. I've spent my life attempting to bring Amazon custom more into a state of... compatibility with the rest of the world. For one, I've championed enormous reforms in men's rights." Ranma snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, right," he said. "I've seen the way you treat Mousse." Cologne shook her head.

"Only a generation ago that fool would have been castrated for his senseless pursuit of an honored warrior maiden," Cologne returned, and Ranma's blood froze. "Many elders of our village would still exercise their right to do so under the old law today." She sighed and shook her head.

"To return to my previous point, were Shampoo and I to vanish," Cologne continued, "another elder would be tapped to return you to the village. She would doubtlessly bring a team of blooded warriors with her and some of our... more aggressive artifacts." Cologne fixed Ranma with her gaze again. "Make no mistake, Son-in-law—as good as I am, there are better in my village, and magical relics of truly horrific potential."

"But..." Ranma floundered. "Without Shampoo, what's the point? I mean, I'm supposed to be her husband, right? If she's not there, no dice, right?"

"Right... to an extent," Cologne agreed. "Remember, our laws exist to bring new blood into the tribe. Once a warrior's value has been demonstrated, the tribe will stop at nothing to bring him into the fold. If his wife falls in her attempt to retrieve him, then the first warrior that he defeats will become his new wife, and the pursuit will continue until he is captured." Cologne was silent for a moment, and Ranma blinked, stunned and gaping like a fish.

"I think you finally begin to understand your predicament," Cologne said, and sat in her chair again.

"So..." Ranma began slowly. "Level with me. What's the plan?"

"The plan is simple," Cologne replied. "I first ask you, for one last time, if you will voluntarily return to my tribe as Shampoo's husband." Ranma was silent for a long time. Before he answered, he tensed visibly and swallowed hard.

"No," he said. Cologne nodded.

"In that event, the letter that I showed you directed me to use one of the more powerful magical relics at my disposal," Cologne continued. "The first possibility is the Collar of Submission." She pulled a plain, battered bronze torque from her robe and set it on the table. "Any command given to one wearing it must be followed as completely as possible. Once given, a command can never be removed, even if it contradicts another, previous command. For instance, if I were to command you to be a good Amazon husband to Shampoo, and another commanded you to hate her, you would spend your life performing husbandly duties as you loathed my great-granddaughter." She paused. "And any commands implanted by the Collar remain even after it has been removed. In short, were I to force this onto you, I could make you do anything, and there is nothing that anyone in the world could to to change you back." Ranma stared at the collar in abject horror. Cologne reached back into her robes.

"My second option is the idol of Boukyaku," she said, and placed a shapeless, twisted black rock on the table. Ranma could feel its evil from where he sat, and shied back. "In this idol resides a terrible spirit of oblivion, known as Boukyaku. We use it to punish the worst offenders amongst our people. If the target of Boukyaku's hunger does not submit to Amazon will, it will consume that person's soul utterly." Cologne reached back into her robes.

"My third option is a spell of banishment." This time, an old, yellowed paper scroll was placed on the table, a vial of something dark and viscous next to it. "This spell would banish whomsoever it was cast on to the kami realm forever, and erase all memory and trace of that person from the mortal realm." Cologne paused here, visibly uncomfortable. "I would be obliged to cast this spell on Akane, were I to cast it." Ranma's expression hardened.

"I'd kill you," he said, his voice a whisper. Cologne laughed mirthlessly.

"Weren't you listening, boy?" she asked. "The spell would erase the very memory of Akane from your mind. A day after the spell was cast, she would be nothing more than a faint memory, like a dream. A week afterward and neither you nor anyone else in this world would ever know that she had ever existed." Cologne shook her head. "But you, as you are here and now, is the reason why I will use none of these three options, if I must indeed bring you to heel by force." Ranma, still defensive, raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Were I to draw you to the village by force or coercion," Cologne explained, "You would spend your life looking for a way, an opportunity, to somehow free yourself or to avenge yourself on us. I have no doubt that you would eventually succeed., and I will not put my people into that risk, even for you." Her face darkened. "If I must take you against your will, Son-in-law, it will be by the most terrible means that I know." She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There is a spell," she said slowly, "that, once cast, will utterly crush a subject's mind. It would reduce even the most strong-willed, enlightened man to nothing more than a mindless, living drone. If it were cast on the living Buddha, he would be defeated. No force on heaven or Earth can reverse the effect of this spell, once cast, or to rebuild any of the mind that it has crushed." She was silent for a moment, and allowed the impact of her words to strike home. "I would—will—use this spell on you, Son-in-law, if I have to. It will exact a terrible price on my soul, one that I will pay for the next hundred lifetimes, but it is a price that I will cheerfully pay to ensure my people's safety. You," she looked directly at Ranma again, "would be nothing more than a breeding stud for the widowed warrior women to use if they wished to have a child." There was silence in the restaurant for a long time after this.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ranma finally asked.

"Because I like you, Son-in-law," Cologne replied. "And I admire you. You are a talent that appears once in a generation, if that generation is exceptionally fortunate. We nave not had an opportunity to take a warrior of your caliber at breeding age for over a century." She paused, and smiled. "But you are also something much more rare than that. You are a genuinely decent human being, and you have fought selflessly for, I believe, every person who's ever tried to kill you, Saffron aside. I've never met anyone else like you, and I think that you deserve better than this," she swept her arm above the items laid out on the table before her. Ranma thought for a time.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Now, I give you a third choice," Cologne said. "One that is still unpalatable, but will leave you a free man if you take it." Ranma's eyebrows shot up. "An elder can grant a divorce to any Amazon couple at the request of either party, provided a few preconditions have been met. I am prepared to grant you such a divorce, if you are willing to meet those preconditions."

"What are they?" Ranma asked.

"The first is that, as you are a man, your wife must agree," Cologne explained. "I've spent the last two weeks working at it, but I've gotten my great-granddaughter to agree to the terms of your divorce. She can see that you love Akane as clearly as anyone else."

"I don't love that uncute tomboy!" Ranma exclaimed, and leapt from his chair. He looked around wildly for recording devices of some kind or another, or perhaps a surprise wedding ceremony.

"Be silent, Son-in-law," Cologne commanded. "We haven't much time." Ranma sat down, cautiously. "The second precondition of your divorce is that you must acknowledge that you are an Amazon before me—only an Amazon may petition an elder for a divorce. You don't need to live in the village, but if we call to you for help, you must come as quickly as you possibly can. You must live by our laws as well, though if there are no other Amazons around, nobody will question your honor if you were to... ignore those you find inconvenient. Many of our warriors do, when they travel alone." Ranma considered this.

"I can live with that," he agreed. Cologne closed here eyes.

"The third..." she said reluctantly. "The third precondition that you must meet is that you must have produced a child in your marriage." Ranma sat, stunned, for a minute.

"What?" he howled. Ranma slowly stood, hands gripping the table powerfully enough to splinter the wood.

"I'm well aware that you're not interested in laying with my great-granddaughter," Cologne said, attempting to mollify the irate martial artist across from her. "Please, Ranma, consider your alternatives here," she asked, and the use of his name shocked some of the anger out of Ranma. He didn't say anything for the moment, so Cologne used the opportunity to continue.

"The bloodline is everything, and it is not unheard-of for an elder to offer this option in politically delicate situations," Cologne explained. "Both Shampoo and I will suffer a considerable loss of face when we return, but the pursuit will be ended! The matter will be considered closed. I can pretend to have received the letter a day after you agreed to this option, and will have sworn on my honor that you would have your divorce. The others will not be able to fight it." Ranma remained silent.

"I'd have to sleep with her?" he finally asked.

"Only once," Cologne said. "Before you arrived, she drank a potion. It is known as the Little Champion Draught. If a man lays with her within the next four hours, she will be come pregnant with a daughter without fail. If you go to her in the next four hours, your divorce will be finalized on the day that the child is born. If you do not, I will not be able to replicate the potion for several months... and I will have to resort to other measures. She is upstairs, in her room, waiting for you now. Afterward, we will leave for home, and never return. No-one outside this room need ever know." Ranma stood still for a few minutes, then sat slowly. Cologne gathered her relics and walked into the kitchen, leaving Ranma alone to think. After a little over forty minutes of silent thought, he rose and, without a word, walked to the stairs up to the living area on the second floor.

The next half-hour was a strange blur for Ranma. Shampoo was, indeed, waiting for him in her room, naked. Tears streamed down her puffy, reddened face, and they redoubled when Ranma opened the door to her room. Ranma didn't say anything to her. He didn't have anything to say. The act itself was ragged and horrible for both; Shampoo couldn't bear to look at him and sobbed the whole time. Ranma, feeling rotten about what he was doing even as he saw the necessity of it, joined her after a while. In their mutual misery, somehow, neither of them noticed that Shampoo had neglected to draw the curtains of her window. It shouldn't have mattered; only someone on a level with the window and looking through it at an angle could have possibly seen Shampoo's bed.

The only thing that Ranma remembered clearly from the whole experience was looking up at the end of the affair and seeing, through the window, a white-feathered duck standing on the exterior windowsill of Shampoo's window, huge, thick glasses balanced on its opened-in-shock beak. Before Ranma could do anything, the duck vanished into the open air, winging its way swiftly away from the Nekohanten.

Afterward, Ranma dressed himself and left the Nekohanten as quickly as he could. He ran as quickly as he could toward the Tendo dojo, but he knew as he ran that he was already far, far too late. Even if Mousse hadn't arrived there before him, some version of the truth of what had happened between him and Shampoo would be known. His gut clenched at the thought.

Ranma paused. The Tendo dojo, where he'd lived for over a year—the longest single home he could ever remember having—loomed in front of him like a tomb, and for all the haste that he'd managed in coming to it, the sight of the building itself and the thought of what lay within brought him up short. He crouched on the rooftop across the street from the front entrance to the beautiful old building and tried to think, but his efforts were frustrated by two images: Shampoo's weeping, tearful face, and the mirror if it that he couldn't stop imagining with Akane's features. After a few minutes of unbearable indecision, Ranma leaned forward, just a bit, but enough to force himself to fall from the rooftop. He landed lightly on the street, his choice made.

The house, when he opened the front door, was utterly silent. At this time of day, Genma and Soun were usually playing a game of either shogi or go, the quiet ticks of the tiles punctuating their soft conversation. Kasumi ought to be cooking dinner by now. At the very least, Nabiki's music should be wafting down the stairs from her room. Instead, there was nothing, and for the first time, Ranma was certain that he'd made a terrible mistake.

"I'm home," Ranma called out, and there was no reply. He slipped his soft-soled shoes off and padded into the house. The kitchen, when checked, was empty, but vegetables and a partially-dismembered fish had been set out on a pair of cutting boards. Kasumi had left a burner on; either she'd been kidnapped, or a family emergency had occurred. Ranma didn't have to guess at which. He sighed and looked around the first floor again. To his surprise, Nabiki had descended the stairs on feet as quiet as cat's paws, and regarded him coolly therefrom.

"Hey, Nabiki," he said, managing a weak half-grin. "Where is everyone?" She stared at him for a long time before she spoke.

"Mousse left a few minutes ago," she said softly. "He said that he was going to tell Ukyou. If you hurry, you might still beat him there, and save things with one of your fiancees." Ranma's heart sunk, and he understood exactly what Mousse was doing: he was getting revenge for what he'd seen. A part of him wanted to turn and run, and try to spare Ukyou's feelings, but the larger part of him knew that doing so would ruin things with Akane forever, if indeed they could still be salvaged now.

"How... how's Akane?" he managed. Nabiki's expression softened a bit.

"About like you'd expect," she said. "You really fucked up this time, Saotome. Literally." Ranma hung his head. "I don't know why you bedded the Amazon, and I don't really care, Ranma. I do know that you hurt my little sister in the worst way you could have."

"Is... is there any way...?" he asked weakly. Nabiki shook her head.

"I doubt it," Nabiki said. "Want a bit of free advice?" she asked. Ranma raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"What?" he asked.

"If you ever had any feelings for Akane," Nabiki said, "Go up there. Face her. Let her scream and shout and hate you until she's all screamed out, and then leave." Nabiki paused. "Just don't fight back. Please. Please don't hurt my sister any more." Ranma sighed, then nodded sadly. He moved to pass Nabiki and climb the stairs, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Right up until the end there, you were a pretty good guy," Nabiki said. "I would have been happy to have you as a brother before today."

"Thanks," he said weakly. "I'll try to remember that." The stairs towered before him, and Ranma climbed them. As he rose, he began to hear, faintly at first and then more clearly, the sounds of Akane's bitter weeping. At the top of the stairs, he made out, but could not understand, Kasumi's voice. He stood in front of Akane's door for what felt like the longest time, but could not bear to knock. After a while, the door cracked open of its own accord and Kasumi slipped out of her sister's room. She shut the door behind her, the little duck nameplate clattering.

"Hey," he managed, his voice a whisper. Ranma noticed that the left shoulder of Kasumi's dress had been soaked. She regarded him coolly, wet tear-tracks clear on her face. After a minute of this, she spoke.

"How could you?" she asked, and the question was like a slap across his face. She said nothing more, but shook her head and left for the stairs. Ranma sighed, and finally mustered enough courage to knock on Akane's door. It slammed open almost instantaneously. Behind it was the image he'd dreaded—Akane's face was red and puffy, her eyes watery, and her whole face was drenched in tears.

"You," she growled, her voice full of hatred. Ranma winced, but stood his ground. Akane's open hand swept around like a hurricane, and the slap sent him reeling. He recovered, and stood silently as another came, and then another.

"You bastard!" Akane shouted as the blows fell. "You asshole!"

"Akane, I-" Ranma began, but another blow silenced him.

"Shut the hell up!" she howled in horrible pain and rage. "Why'd you choose her? Why? Wasn't I good enough?" With each question, another blow, each weaker than the last.

"Akane, I didn't choose Shampoo. I don't even like her!" Ranma attempted. Akane's eyes steeled.

"Bullshit!" she shouted, and this time struck him with a closed fist. Ranma staggered back, but made no attempt to dodge. "You expect me to believe that you'd sleep with someone you hate, but you won't even tell me that you like me? You're a fucking coward!"

"Hey! There's more to it than that!" Ranma protested, his blood rising.

"You're a coward!" Akane repeated. "You make your choice and you're not even man enough to be honest about it!" She sneered at him and continued. "And to think I used to think that you were half a man," she snarled. "You're not even that. You're not a man at all. Your wreck of a father has more honor than you do!" Ranma's body reacted as though she'd punched him in his gut, the force of her words striking home hard. Akane pressed her advantage. "I just wish that the kettle had gotten crushed at Horai-san, so that your body could show just how manly you really are. I'm sure your mother would have made you commit seppuku then, and we'd all be better off. I'd sure be a hell of a lot happier!" The bottom dropped out of Ranma's world at the sight of Akane's rage-filled face and heartfelt words. Akane sensed this somehow, and her last words were a sharp whisper.

"I'd rather marry Pantyhose Tarou than you," she hissed. Ranma's heart shattered, and he couldn't bear to take any more. He turned and ran, the reflex of the Saotome Secret Technique taking over. "That's right! Run!" Akane shouted after him as he leapt out a window. "Run like the coward you are!" She kept screaming after him, but distance and his own tears quickly rendered her words indecipherable. Ranma ran and ran, without aim and without thought, hating himself from the bottom of his heart and praying only that he could lose himself so completely that even he would never be able to find himself again.

--A/N--

So, we finally arrive at the heart of things. It's taken me a while to get here—a little longer than I thought it would—but I'm happy with the way that things are going. Certainly, the story has changed a bit from where I thought I'd go with it, but I like the changes. I am happy to note that, while some of you came pretty close to the story of what went on here, none of you really got things directly on. Remember, Ranma may have chosen Shampoo of his own free will, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't coerced.

And yes, a two of the items in Cologne's possession are nods to a couple of the more awesome classic Ranmafics out there. If you haven't read Hearts of Ice (she finally finished the last chapter!) or Meiyo Ai Sochite Nikushimi, you really should.

A few people have been complaining that the last two chapters have been deflating some of the tension of the story. My response is... well, yeah. They were supposed to. The story is out of chronological order, and there's only a chapter or two after this left. The climax was in chapter three, and in a different storytelling setup, this might have been the first chapter. I wanted to do something a little artsy, so there. If it really bugs you that much, you probably didn't like Pulp Fiction or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind either, which means that the real bottom of things is that you're not a big fan of this style of storytelling. That's fair. I am a fan, and I'm the one that sat down to write, so I'm entitled to a little flair of the proverbial pen.

A final note. Tomorrow, I'll be receiving my Master's of Arts degree, after two years of brutally hard work. I'm excited as can be, and am really looking forward to beginning my Ph.D. studies this fall. It's another five years of the same level of work or more, but it's also a chance to step into a much more rarefied world; after this semester, I'm finally beginning to feel like I belong at that level, too. Wish me luck!