Disclaimer: Most of the characters used in the story are creations of the great Rumiko Takahashi.

Author's Note: Hi! I'm sorry that this chapter took so long. I've been really busy. I hope this chapter is worth the wait. It's a bit… hmm… violent. I hope you, guys, don't mind. I guess I was feeling a bit murderous after enduring months of intense studying. But now, I'm free. Hahahaha!

Anyway, I would like to take this opportunity to thank:

Meca-Chan

Kaoru-chan6

Fiery Ferret of Doom

rc

Lunar Ember

Lorilynn1

merryday

The Sisters of Chaos: W/D

Pilgrim

Storm-Maker

Sieg1308

Kisaki-chan

morgannia

Eu

Key

erin boriiss

Irulan24

Koala Kitty

Surf Angel

Gennie Kag's & Sess's Child

Wildmagelette

Hanoi

Priestess Kohana

f-zelda

Liezel

Drakus

seashell

Saotome Akane

Mensa-13

deni-015

Ocky Pocky

heartdragon

Thank you so much for your reviews. You, guys, drive me to write better. So keep those reviews coming. Thank you!

Again,

"…" for speech

italics for thoughts

THE NECKLACE

by Raven Nyx

Chapter 7

Genma, Soun, Nabiki, Kasumi and Happosai were seated around the table having a scrumptious dinner of sukiyaki. Dinner was relatively peaceful as everyone eagerly fished out slices of beef, vegetables and noodles from the steaming pot at the center of the table.

"More rice please, Kasumi." Genma said as he passed his empty bowl to Kasumi.

"Where could Ranma and Akane be?" Kasumi wondered out loud as she started filling Genma's bowl.

Kasumi was cut short by raised voices outside the house followed by the slam of the gate.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Oohhh, it sounds interesting out there." She quickly stood up with a video camera magically in hand. "This I got to see." She started walking towards the door.

"Nabiki!" Kasumi chastised, looking at Nabiki disapprovingly.

"Aren't you a bit curious, sis?"

"A bit but… we should mind our own business," Kasumi declared. "Right, father?" When she looked at the other end of the table where her father should have been seated, the seat was already empty. Soun was gone and so were Genma and Happosai. She stared at the empty seats, neglected bowls of rice and the steaming pot of sukiyaki in disbelief. "Oh my…"


Akane's wistful smile, the faint blush on her cheeks fueled Ranma's anger. The carnation she reverently placed in her bag was the last straw. That boy gave that to her!, he thought furiously.

"How was your little date, Akane?" he said caustically. He looked down at Akane from his perch up the wall near a street lamp.

Akane looked around searching for the person speaking to her. No one seemed to be there. Her brow furrowed in bewilderment.

Ranma casually leaned on the lamp post.

His movement caught Akane's attention. She immediately looked up and saw him. A gasp escaped her lips as she took a step back. A series of emotions flickered in her dark brown eyes. Surprise. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Anger!, he thought with annoyance.

Anger prevailed over Akane's other emotions. She glared up at him. "It's none of your business," she icily uttered. After that, she shoved the gate open, entered the dojo and slammed it shut.

Her reply infuriated Ranma. She has the nerve to be mad at me!, he thought incredulously. He nimbly jumped off the wall and was immediately on her heels. "None of my business?"

She did not stop walking.

"None of MY business?" His voice was up a notch. He grabbed her arm to pull her to a stop and turned her to face him.

She tried to pull away but he held her arm tighter.

"You're MY fiancée, Akane. Therefore, it's MY business."

She glared up at him. "Some FIANCÉ you are!" she spat.

Her reply took him aback. Her words hurt more than he would admit to himself. His grip on her arm loosened. She took the opportunity to get out of his grasp and run inside the house.

He stood stunned by her words for half a minute. His mind went blank unable to comprehend the insult she had just thrown at him.


"Look at the two lovebirds bickering. They're practically married already," Nabiki stated matter-of-factly as she, Soun, Genma and Happosai leaned against the ajar door, listening and watching Akane and Ranma's quarrel. Nabiki was taping their row with her video camera.

"Here she comes," Genma hissed the warning when Akane started running towards the door.

They immediately dispersed in the foyer, pretending to act nonchalantly.

Akane slid the door open and entered the house. She did not notice the suspiciously crowded foyer: Nabiki on the phone; Genma and Soun oddly playing their favorite game of shogi by the foyer; and Happosai smoking his pipe by the stairs. She quickly made her way up the stairs.

"What's that suppose to mean!" They heard Ranma demand when he had snapped out of his trance. He ran after Akane and caught up with her halfway up the stairs. He grabbed her arm again. Ranma was oblivious to the not-so-subtle stares of Nabiki, Genma, Soun and Happosai. "What's that suppose to mean, Akane?" he repeated.

Akane glared at him.

Ranma glared back.

"Go figure, Ranma!" She forcefully yanked her arm out of his hold and quickly ran up the rest of the stairs.

Ranma followed her. "NO!" He tried to reach for her again but she eluded him. "You tell me!"

"I hate you!" Akane reached the safety of her room and slammed the door in Ranma's face.

"Dammit!" He swore under his breath and placed an open palm on Akane's closed door. "Fine, Akane!" He banged the door with frustration. "If that's how you feel, then fine! See if I care!"

With a huff, he turned on his heels and walked away.


Akane sagged against the door, her breath coming in heavy and angry puffs. Her bag had fallen on the floor and some of her books and the red carnation had slipped out. She heard Ranma's footsteps as he walked away. She leaned her head on the door, closed her eyes and hoarsely whispered, "Stupid Ranma…" A single tear rolled down her cheek.

She angrily wiped it away. Stop it, Akane!, she silently scolded herself. Stop it!

"Bwee!"

Akane was surprised to hear that familiar and comforting sound. He was back after an almost three-week absence. She looked down and saw her pet pig, P-chan, looking at her with concern. "Bwee?" P-chan snorted again as if to ask what was wrong.

She gave him a sad smile, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's nothing, baby," she whispered in a quivering voice, "I'm going to be ok."

The black piglet took the fallen red carnation in his mouth and snorted up at Akane as if to give her the blossom.

The sweetness of the gesture pulled at her aching heart. "Oh, P-chan!" She knelt down on the floor and opened her arms to the piglet.

P-chan with the carnation in his mouth leapt into her arms. She hugged him tightly and cried her heart out, whispering again and again, "Stupid… stupid… stupid Ranma…"


Some FIANCÉ you are!

He remembered her retort clearly. He could still hear her say the words. He could still see the injured look on her face. He suddenly felt his chest tighten. What the hell was that suppose to mean!, he thought angrily. He was the one being wronged here. She was the one with another guy and even letting that stupid guy kiss her. Well, some fiancée she is!

Ranma was seated on the rooftop glaring angrily at the cloudy night sky. It was a cool night but it did not do anything to cool his temper. He even tried training after their spat but it did not ease the tension.

"What ever you two fought about, you have to settle it," someone had said from the door of the training hall while he was doing some katas. "Talk to her, boy. Apologize."

He had turned to see his father standing by the door. Ranma's brow was drenched with sweat. He had already done several katas but he was distracted. He didn't even sense his father's presence until he spoke.

He had glared at his father and said, "I ain't saying sorry to that tomboy!"

"Tsk tsk," Genma had clucked his tongue in disapproval. "You're as stubborn as your old man."

He had merely ignored that comment. "I'm done here," he had said with finality and purposefully walked out of the dojo.

Why should I apologize? She's the one dating someone else. He felt a pang of jealousy as he remembered what he saw at the park. Kissing someone else… His hands balled into fists. Should have bashed that guy's pretty face, he thought darkly.

"Ranma."

The low threatening growl cut through his thoughts.

He knew that voice. Without turning to see who it was, Ranma warned in a low, barely audible voice, "Ryoga, you don't wanna mess with me right now."

"How dare you, Ranma!" Ryoga pointed a finger accusingly at Ranma. "How dare you make Akane-san cry!"

"I'm warning you, Ryoga," he snarled. "Not another word."

"I leave for a few weeks and look at her," Ryoga dared to continue. He remembered the distress in those beautiful brown pools as she assured him that she was going to be ok. He remembered the feel of her arms around him and the wetness of her tears as she cried, cried for Ranma. "You don't deserve her, Ranma."

"Now, you're asking for it!" Ranma growled. With lightning speed, he was in Ryoga's face throwing fast punches and kicks. He poured all his anger and frustration into his attacks. Like his old man, Ryoga had no right to butt in on their business. This was between him and Akane.

Ryoga was able to parry his attacks but he staggered a little by the strength of Ranma's blows. He saw the feral glint in Ranma's eyes as he attacked. Ryoga blocked with all his strength. He was determined to win this for Akane. I would never do anything to hurt her, to make her cry. Then he realized that Ranma was all offensive and his attacks were a product of emotion rather than strategy. His forceful attacks were also quickly exhausting him, leaving him more vulnerable to any unexpected move. When Ryoga found an opening, he struck.

"Owfff…" Ranma felt all the air rush out of his lungs and pain radiated from where he was hit. He fell on one knee, clutching his stomach with one hand. He suddenly felt weak… drained.

"Is that all you've got?" Ryoga looked down at Ranma with a sneer. He was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face. He wiped his brow with his sleeve.

Ranma breathed in deeply, trying to catch his breath. Droplets of sweat fell from his brow. The dark-haired boy leaning down to kiss Akane. Akane's blush as she placed the carnation carefully in her bag. These scenes flashed before his eyes, giving him renewed strength. His hand already red and bruised clutched at his stomach balled into a fist, his knuckles turning all white.

With a great roar, Ranma pounced on Ryoga. Ryoga caught off guard by the sudden comeback lost his balance. He teetered on the edge of the rooftop. But Ranma was relentless in his attack that Ryoga lost his footing, pulling Ranma as he fell from the roof.


Akane woke up with a start. Her eyes felt puffy and heavy. She was lying on her bed. She didn't realize that she had cried herself to sleep. She had no memory of turning off the lights, taking off her shoes and getting into bed.

"P-chan?" she hoarsely called out. Rubbing away the sleep from her eyes, she scanned her dark room for P-chan. He was nowhere to be found.

"Hmm… what time is it?" she croaked out loud as she sat herself up, squinting at the clock.

The clock read 11:46 pm.

Her tummy gave an angry rumble. She groaned. She had not eaten dinner. I better get something to eat and maybe take a long hot bath, she thought. She swung her legs out of the bed and snapped on her desk lamp. Then, she snatched her towel and pajamas from her armoire and headed for the door. When she was about to close it, she noticed a piece of stationery tacked to the yellow duck hanging on her door. It read: Akane, dinner's by the stove. Kasumi.

Kasumi's so sweet, she thought as she stared affectionately at the closed door of her older sister's room. With a sigh, she silently walked through the darkened hall towards the staircase. A faint light was spilling from the Genma and Ranma's room. To avoid another confrontation with Ranma, she tiptoed past the guest room and quietly and quickly descended the stairs. There's enough fighting for now, she thought sadly.


Ranma heard Akane pass his room. He was still up. He couldn't sleep so he tried reading his old mangas. He used to find them amusing but he found nothing funny about them now. He just leafed through the pages and sometimes he caught himself drifting, thinking of her. He groaned.

Why should I even bother worrying?, he thought. I don't get her. Why am I the bad guy? I wasn't the one sneaking off with someone else, kissing someone else! He suddenly realized that he had torn off a page of the manga he was reading and had crumpled it into a ball. He tossed the manga and the crumpled page aside with disgust. He stood up and started to pace to let off some steam.

He stopped and stared irately at his father in panda form sleeping soundly while he was fuming, unable to get some sleep. The sight of him got him more riled up. He grabbed his pillow and threw it at his father. It had no effect on the sleeping panda. Genma merely turned to his side and hugged the offending pillow.

Ranma was gritting his teeth in frustration. What's with you, Saotome!, he scolded himself. Get a grip! He couldn't explain it but he was spoiling for a fight. His scuffle with Ryoga did not give him the release he needed. The short drizzle had spoiled it, turning his worthy opponent into a raging pig, which he, in girl form, easily kicked to who knows where.

He started his pacing again. After a while, he heard Akane climb up the stairs. He came to an abrupt stop. Impulsively, he pulled the plug of the lamp lit near his futon, an attempt to hide the fact that he couldn't sleep. He no longer had time to jump into bed and was forced to stand still by the door, listening to her soft footsteps as she stepped onto the second floor hall. He heard her suddenly stop by the door. She stayed there for a full minute and the sudden flash of lightning threw her silhouette through the fusumi. Her hand was lightly resting on one of the paper panels. The clap of the thunder must have broken through her reverie. She gave a sigh and started to walk to her room.

Ranma was finally able to release the breath that he had not realized he was holding when he heard her door click shut. The rain had begun again and the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the roof had a calming effect. He felt an unfamiliar lump of emotion in his throat. He touched the spot on the fusumi where her hand had rested. Another flash of lighting bathed the room in an eerie light. He thought he could feel her warmth still on the spot but snorted at the silly notion. He walked away from the door and fell down on his bed. His anger had ebbed away and his head felt clearer. Maybe I was just overreacting, he thought. Maybe I should go and talk to her and settle this… tonight.


Underneath the tree by the koi pond, a lone figure stood unmindful of the rain. Suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated the figure. It was Shiro. He was staring up at the lone lit window. Akane's room.

I've been waiting for this moment and now it's finally at hand, he thought gleefully.

Akane suddenly came into view as she stared out the window at the rainy night. She did not see Shiro as he quickly moved to hide in the shadows.

Shiro had longed for that beautiful face for more than a century, dreamed of it as he wandered all over Japan all those years. He was neither living nor dead, only driven by the promise of seeing her again, of being with her again.

From the faithful day he found out Chiyo was dead, he prayed for his own death, for his own release from a life without Chiyo. He cursed the gods for making him live but taking her away from him. He hated his life so much that he started wandering aimlessly from tavern to tavern, trying to drown his misery with sake and jumping into brawls, hoping to find release. In the mornings, he would wake up hoping that he was already dead but he often found himself lying on piles of refuse, stinking of smoke, sake and garbage, totally wasted. He'd wash himself in nearby streams or rivers, then head for any open tavern along the way, again beginning the miserable cycle he called his life.

One day, he found himself at another dingy pub. He had downed his eighth bottle of sake and was loudly clamoring for more.

The owner behind the bar ignored him. "Are you deaf! I said, more." The owner's silence forced Shiro to wend his way towards the bar.

"More!" He tried to put the empty sake bottle on the table but with his uncontrolled strength, he smashed it on the table. "MORE!" he roared unmindful of his bleeding hand.

The skinny old pub owner cowered behind the bar but he mustered enough courage to ask Shiro to leave.

"No," Shiro managed to slur as he vehemently shook his head.

A menacing looking man, his face badly scared, walked towards Shiro and put a heavy calloused hand on his shoulder, turning Shiro to face him. His cohorts stood behind him. "The owner's asking you to leave, buddy. I suggest that you follow him."

"I'm… not leaving…" He glared at the guy and swatted the hand on his shoulder away. He turned his back on the man and continued to demand from the pub owner more sake.

The terrified owner was no longer paying attention to Shiro, his eyes trained on the scarred man. His face lost all its color when he saw the scarred man's face contort with seething anger. "I don't want no killing in my pub. You hear me, Fudo!" The owner squeaked.

The menacing man named Fudo followed by his cohorts came closer to Shiro and he tried to grab his arm. Despite his drunkenness, Shiro's instincts enabled him to elude the man's grasp. He teetered away from him. "I'm not leaving!"

"You're asking for it, buddy," Fudo growled. The man glared at him then nodded to his cohorts, silently commanding them to surround Shiro.

Without warning, they attacked all at once and all hell broke lose. He managed to parry most of the blows and get some across. However, in his drunken and weakened state, the blows that got across did a lot of damage. His face was already covered with blood from a nasty gash above his left eyebrow. The men kept on coming and he was quickly losing his stamina. He tried to reach for his sword but it wasn't at his side. He tried to scan the room of fallen tables and chairs and broken bottles but he couldn't seem to find it.

He suddenly spotted the sheath of his sword underneath a smashed table and tried to reach for it but before he could get there, he ran straight through a sword. He was stunned. He didn't feel any pain but he felt his warm blood slowly soak his hakama. The sword looked familiar. He looked up at his attacker. It was Fudo. Fudo gave him a victorious smirk and rammed the sword deeper into him. He looked down at the sword again. It was his. Shiro laughed at the irony which disconcerted Fudo, turning his smirk into a frown. Shiro was smiling at him before darkness took him.


Darkness. Then out of the darkness, a familiar cherry tree suddenly came into view. A woman wearing a white wedding kimono stood with her back to him. The soft tinkling of chimes seemed to drift from nowhere A sudden gust of wind sent a rain of cherry blossoms around the woman as she turned to face him. Most of her face was hidden behind a silken white hood. Only her smiling red lips could be seen.

"Am I dead?" Shiro asked. He stood a few feet away from her, shrouded in darkness.

The woman shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Who are you?"

The woman demurely raised her hand to her mouth. Her melodious laughter floated towards him. "Have you forgotten me already?"

"Chiyo? Chiyo, is it really you?" Shiro tried to reach for her but every time he got nearer, she seemed to slide back away from him, always maintaining the same distance, so near yet so far.

The woman laughed again. "Come and find me, Shiro-kun." As she turned to leave, the light reflected on the necklace she was wearing. It was the necklace he had given her, the last present he had given her before he left, before he lost her. She started to walk away, towards a pinpoint of white light that gradually grew bigger and brighter. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Wait, Chiyo! Wait!" Shiro tried to run after her but his sight was obscured by a torrent of cherry blossoms and the white light that seemed to engulf Chiyo and the cherry tree. "Where are you going? Wait!" He tripped as he was about to reach for her, slightly grazing the silken fabric of her kimono.

He looked up, his eyes wet with tears, just in time to see her disappear into the blinding light. Then once again, darkness.


He woke up. His body ached all over. He shivered. It was cold. He didn't know where he was. Wisps of the dream he had lingered in his mind and blurred his vision. Her sweet voice echoed in his ears. Come and find me, Shiro-kun. I'll be waiting for you.

His eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He found himself lying face down on a rocky river bank. His clothes were wet and grimy from water, blood, dirt and sweat. He slowly turned himself over so that he was lying prone on the bank.

Then the memory of what happened in the tavern came flooding back to him. He fought a group of thugs at the tavern. He remembered looking for his sword to even out the fight. He was stabbed, stabbed with his own sword. This brought a jolt of adrenaline to his body and he quickly sat up and inspected his stomach. There was a tear on his kimono but there wasn't a trace of the mortal wound that Fudo had inflicted on him. He quickly touched his face, arms and legs to check for cuts, bumps and bruises. He didn't feel any. All he felt was a dull ache, a memory of the injuries he had sustained.

He looked up at the sky. Streaks of red and orange ran through it, a sign of the dawning of a new day. It was also a dawning for him, a dawning for his search of his beloved Chiyo.

Come and find me, Shiro-kun…

A flash of lightning broke through Shiro's reverie. He looked up at Akane's window. The lights were already out. It was time to get her back after over a century of searching. I'm here, Chiyo. I've found you at last.