Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.
Author's Note: Thanks go out once again to Lathis for his continued betaing help!
Also, I'm figuring I should probably move this fic over to the new crossovers section pretty soon. I've been reluctant, mostly because there's really no comparably important Sailor Moon character to take the second "character slot." But I suppose that's really where this belongs regardless.
So (starting with the next chapter update) that's where the fic'll be from here on out.
Chapter Eleven: Three Way
With one last jump, Mousse propelled himself down from the rooftops, landing on the street in front of Ucchan's.
His arrival was not unnoticed. Ukyo and Akane had both been waiting outside the door of the restaurant, pensively scanning the skyline. His feet had hardly touched the ground before they practically jumped on him, with simultaneous exclamations of "What happened?" and "Where's Ranchan?"
Mousse sighed, holding up his hands to forestall any further overlapping questions. "There were youma searching the city," he explained to the two girls, who were each waiting with baited breath. "We think some of them might have found Beneda. Saotome and Hibiki went to try and rescue her. They told me to head back here and keep this place safe until they returned."
"Youma?" demanded Ukyo. "How many?"
The hidden weapons master frowned in thought. He considered the size of the arc traveled by the youma they had been watching, and made a very rough estimate. If they had been spread out in all directions equally... "Perhaps somewhere between ten and twenty altogether..." he ventured at last. "It's impossible to say for certain. We didn't see them all ourselves."
Akane sucked in a sharp breath. "Ten or twenty?" she asked, looking stricken. "But... they've had trouble every time they've faced even one of them!"
Ukyo was nodding in agreement, her face grim. "If things are that bad, then they're going to need help! We have to go back them up!"
"No." Mousse said firmly. "You're both staying right here. I won't let anyone else put themselves in danger."
"You won't let us?" echoed Ukyo dangerously. "I don't really think you've got a say in the matter, sugar."
"If I need to, I'll just tie the both of you up and let you wait it out inside the restaurant," snapped the hidden weapons master, lowering his arms and letting some of his countless ropes and chains slide down out of his sleeves to emphasize the point. "I'm quite confident that Saotome and Hibiki can handle this on their own."
"Oh really." The okonomiyaki chef's eyes narrowed, looking suspicious. "And what a coincidence—if they can't handle it on their own, it means that you've suddenly got a clear shot at your little Shampoo! Isn't that right?"
Mousse flinched a little, but refused to be baited. Really, he told himself, it's not as though I'm even betraying Ranma! In fact, the pigtailed nuisance had specifically asked him to keep these girls safe! He was just doing what he had been told!
And if keeping the girls out of harm's way just happened to result in his rival meeting an untimely end... and fulfilled his mission to deal with Beneda in the bargain... well that was just a happy coincidence all around!
No, he told himself, this was exactly what he had to do. "Think whatever you want," he told them, his voice flat. "But neither of you have a chance of getting past me. So I suggest that you simply head back into the restaurant."
Both girls were now glaring at him angrily, but he returned their gazes without emotion. He knew that he could take both of them, if it came to that.
At length, Ukyo sighed, hanging her head. "I guess you're right," she said despondently. "There isn't really anything we could do to—"
Then suddenly she broke off, looking back over Mousse's shoulder, her eyebrows going up a little in surprise. "Oh! Hey, Shampoo! What're you doing here?"
Mousse's brain abruptly short-circuited at the words, and he whirled around with the desperate speed that only the truly lovesick know. "Shampoo! My dearest!"
After many long seconds, the last echoes of the resounding CLANG finally faded into silence, and Ukyo re-sheathed her combat spatula. "Jackass," she muttered under her breath, as she peeled the limp form of the hidden weapons master out of the Mousse-shaped indentation that now graced the street.
She dragged his unconscious body back into the building, while Akane found Kasumi and told her to wake Mousse up once the two girls had gotten far enough away. Minutes later, they were standing outside the restaurant again—except this time with no annoying roadblocks in sight.
"So... where do we start looking?" Akane asked.
Ukyo's reply was to shrug. "We can head in the direction that Mousse came from, to start out with," she said. "And then... we search, I guess. After all, if Ranchan and that living bulldozer really start fighting the youma, it should be pretty hard to miss." Then she sighed. "I just wish we were bringing more help. If there's really that many against us..."
Akane hesitated. "We could ask my Dad and Mr. Saotome... They might help us..."
The two girls looked at each other for a moment, Ukyo's eyes silently communicating—and Akane's eyes silently admitting—how likely it was that either man would be willing to help attack an army of youma. "It's... probably better that they stay here," Ukyo finally said, out of kindness. "To help protect this place. You know, in case something attacks."
The youngest Tendo nodded. "And we can't trust Cologne... and I don't think Shampoo could sneak off without her noticing... and beyond that..." She frowned in thought for a moment—and then her head snapped up. "Oh!" she said. "I've got an idea! It'd mean a detour, but..."
Ukyo hesitated, trying her best to weigh the situation, knowing that time was of the essence. Then, at last, she came to a decision. "Go for it. I'll start searching in the meantime, and we'll try to meet up wherever Ranchan is."
Akane nodded once in agreement. And with that, the two girls darted off, each in their own direction.
Ryouga licked his lips. Things were starting to get crowded.
The street that would soon be their battleground was a somewhat busy one, and already traffic was gradually beginning to back up. Car after car screeched and swerved to a halt in a disorganized jumble, motorists climbing out of their vehicles and shouting angrily and honking their horns at the crazy kids who were occupying the middle of the road.
Nor was it limited to that. People were pouring out of the stores lining the road as well, murmuring to each other as they tried to figure out what was going on. Snatches of conversation could be heard, like "...Sailor Senshi?" and "...some kind of stunt!" and "...really do exist?"
The lost boy tuned it all out. His attention was focused on his enemies, trying to decide who to attack first. His eyes flickered back and forth between the clustered knot of Senshi and the line of black-robed youma. The Dark Kingdom group certainly had the numbers advantage at the moment—not to mention that they just plain looked nastier.
Besides, he had a score to settle with that "Darkmistress."
"Beneda, you should find someplace to hide," he said over his shoulder to the youma behind him, not taking his eyes of the foes in front. "Ranma and I will handle—"
His train of thought was suddenly interrupted, as Ranma's entire body went rigid. Ryouga glanced over at his rival, only to see that the pigtailed fighter's face had gone white, his eyes wide with barely-suppressed terror.
Ryouga followed Ranma's panicked gaze, apprehension growing in his own stomach. What could he have seen to cause such a reaction? Ranma was one of the most self-assured, overconfident people he had ever met. Anything that could shake him this badly would have to be terrible. It would have to be horrific. It would have to be—
—a cat. The lost boy resisted the urge to smack himself in the face as he belatedly noticed the small black animal moving in from the side to stand by the rest of the Senshi. Of course. Hadn't Ukyo said something about the Senshi having a trained cat?
Well, at any rate, this pretty much decided what his first target would have to be...
Sailor Moon watched the assembled enemies anxiously, wondering what on earth they were going to do now. They had never faced this many bad guys at once—twelve of them! And that one with the pigtail still had her tiara!
The only consolation was that this time, the bad guys were divided among themselves. Maybe... she thought, hoping desperately. Maybe, if we just don't do anything, they'll end up beating each other up, and we won't even have to fight...
Then, without warning, the enemy in the yellow-and-black bandanna launched himself straight at them. Tuxedo Kamen leapt to intercept him in a midair exchange of blows... but the villain's kick managed to slip in a split-second before the masked man's cane, and their protector went flying away.
Then he landed, right next to them. The Senshi all scattered defensively, leaping away in different directions. Sailor Moon tensed, wondering which of them he was going to attack—
But, to her shock and horror, the young man homed in not on any of them... but rather on Luna's small form. Before the startled moon cat even had a chance to react, their foe had snatched her up by the scruff of her neck. He then glanced around, wound up, and hurled her off into the distance, in a blur of black speed and a startled "Mrrrrrooooowwww!"
Sailor Moon gaped, her jaw hanging open in dismay at what had just happened. They had fought enemies before, but none of them had been this evil, this malicious. For him to deliberately go after the most helpless one present, the one who wasn't a threat to anyone...
She pointed a trembling finger at him. "Unforgivable!" she cried out, and then threw herself headlong at the monster who had done that to Luna.
This is bad... was the thought that ran through Luna's mind, as she shot through the air at speeds far greater than she would ever have considered safe. This is very, very bad...
The air ripped around her as she rocketed on her uncontrollable trajectory. Ahead, she saw the imposing, immovable bulk of a building right in her path. She flinched, seeing a vision of herself splattered across that wall. No! she pleaded. I can't die like this! The Senshi still need me! Usagi needs me!
But there was nothing she could do. She continued to arc onward and upward, the building drawing closer and closer.
Then, just as she reached the building, she also reached the exact apex of her trajectory, slipping over the wall by mere centimeters. Then she began to descend, soon tumbling end-over-end along the rooftop, bleeding off her accumulated momentum bit by gradual bit.
Or at least, gradual until the air conditioning unit loomed up before her, and she slammed into it with a resounding thud. By then, however, she was going slowly enough that it merely knocked her out.
Even as she lost consciousness, one last thought managed to flit across her mind. What amazing luck... she thought, as the darkness rose up to claim her. It's almost as if he were aiming for it to happen like that...
Ryouga let out a satisfied breath. Hopefully, the cat wouldn't be too hurt from that—after all, it wasn't some animal's fault that its owners used it for dishonorable ends, or that Ranma had his stupid phobia. In any case, now that the Senshi's pet was far out of sight, things were definitely looking up.
"Unforgivable!"
Well, relatively speaking, of course.
The lost boy shifted himself left slightly, allowing Sailor Moon's wild punch to swing harmlessly through the air by his head. She immediately repeated the strike, again and again, obviously distraught. Decent speed... Ryouga noted, as he leaned back and forth around her punches. But no technique. She's no fist-fighter.
"Sailor Moon, get back!" shouted the one wearing red—Sailor Mars, he guessed. She had her fingertips pressed together, and looked as though she were trying to line up a shot of some kind, but probably couldn't do so with her ally right next to him. So, taking the obvious action, Ryouga reached up and caught Sailor Moon's swinging fist in his palm, grabbing hold so that she couldn't leave close quarters.
It was then that the youma decided to join the party.
Behind Sailor Moon, the entire line of cloaked monsters burst into motion. Like a black wave, they surged to the edge of the building they were standing on and lunged out into space toward their targets.
As they jumped, one of the Inquisitors extended her hands, holes opening in the tips of her fingers. In moments, her hands had re-formed into cylinders, like those of a gatling gun. And sure enough, they began to spin, spewing out a hail of needle-like projectiles at Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury.
The two Senshi scattered, the needles chewing up the pavement behind them. Sailor Mercury made a flying dive, managing to reach the cover of a nearby mailbox just in time. Sailor Mars, on the other hand, was charging her power even as she ran, and soon responded with a blast of flame that ripped through the projectiles, scattering them as it roared toward the shooting youma.
It seemed certain that the monster would be incinerated... but suddenly one of her allies extended her arm. With a wet, squelching sound, the limb stretched impossibly, grabbing the targeted youma and yanking her out of the line of fire. The other arm stretched as well, reaching down to the ground, embedding into the concrete, and dragging them both down to it.
At the same time, the Darkmistress unleashed her lightning at Ryouga and Sailor Moon. Seeing the destructive red energy bearing down on them, the lost boy leaped backward, dragging the young girl along with him, just before the destructive magic carved a gouge into the street where they had just been.
Ryouga continued to pull on the Senshi's arm, while smoothly swinging his leg into her path and sending her tumbling head over heels past him with a cry of "Waaugh!" Then, with her out of the way, he clenched his fists at his sides and turned to face the mass of youma as they landed.
The Darkmistress smiled at him, red lightning crackling along her arms as she began to flare her crushing, diseased aura once again. Ryouga responded by tightening his eyes, but nothing more.
The response from the onlookers was more dramatic. If the previous pyrotechnic display had left any remaining doubts as to whether this was real or not, the choking spiritual pestilence resolved them without question. A cacophony of terrified screams began to break out, and soon the entire crowd was fleeing in utter panic.
Ryouga ignored the stampede taking place in the background, instead charging straight at the line of youma with a fierce battle cry. The youma answered his charge with one of their own, the Darkmistress leading them. Perfect... thought Ryouga, homing in on her. I owe you from yesterday...
Their eyes locked angrily, as the two enemies closed at a blistering pace. A savage smile split the lost boy's face, as he prepared for the imminent clash—
—and then, the instant before they met, the Darkmistress was blindsided by a red-and-black blur, which slammed a kick into the side of her head and sent her flying away.
Ryouga skidded to an astonished stop, as did the other youma. "What the hell, Ranma?" he demanded, outraged. "She's mine!"
Ranma flashed him a grin. "Come on, P-chan," he said. "You already had a chance with her. You gotta give me a turn now." And with that, he dashed off in the direction that he had kicked the corpse-like youma.
The lost boy gaped for another instant, and then his brain kicked into gear. "Damn you, Ranma!" he roared, sprinting after the pigtailed fighter with violence on his mind.
But the other youma were responding as well. Three of the robed figures broke off to chase after Ranma, while the others swung around to cut off Ryouga. Growling at the interruption, the lost boy swerved, adjusting his course to plow straight through them.
Even as he did so, one of the youma raised her fist... then, to Ryouga's puzzlement, drove it deep into the ground, angled toward him.
The next instant, a huge fist made of earth exploded up through the street, slamming into Ryouga's chest and hurling him backward through the air, arms flailing. His body eventually crashed back to the ground, skidding along on his back until he slowed to a stop. Laughing, the youma pulled her fist back out of the ground—although the earthen fist she had created remained where it was.
With a wince and a glare, the lost boy climbed back on his feet again. The five masked youma were spreading out now, closing in on him from different angles. Each one must have different powers... he thought. But who has what? This could get tricky.
It was then that he saw something golden shoot through the air out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he realized that it was Sailor Moon's disc-shaped weapon, which she had just recalled to her hand. She stood, flanked by the other two Senshi, ready for action.
Ryouga cracked his neck. Ranma and the Darkmistress, he supposed, would have to wait after all.
The Darkmistress had been caught off-guard by the initial attack of this "Ranma", but she recovered quickly. Her headlong trajectory twisted into a quick backflip, putting her back on her feet as she skidded to a stop.
Not a moment too soon. The human was speeding down the street at her, with three of her Inquisitors chasing after him. Crimson lightning began to build in the Darkmistress's palms... but her target was juking back and forth in an evasive pattern as he closed. Her hand shifted left and right as she tried to track him, tried to read where she should fire... but it was like trying to catch smoke. He was so fast!
And then he was on her. The Darkmistress backpedaled frantically, her hands flashing in countless parries as she tried to keep up with the barrage of kicks the human was launching. He angled them in from every direction, spinning, switching his legs back and forth, all with dizzying unpredictability.
Behind him, the three pursuing Inquisitors had almost caught up. The closest one clenched her fists, and a huge mass of oily green tentacles erupted from all over her body, stretching out their writhing grasp toward the human.
At the same time, the Darkmistress saw an opening. The human's kick was just a little too slow, and she grabbed onto his ankle with both hands, holding him in place where her subordinate could easily engulf him—
—but the kick had been a feint. The instant her hands closed around his ankle he leapt off his standing foot, planting it directly into her face and kicking off of it, sending her staggering away and launching himself in an aerial somersault over the roiling appendages as they grabbed futilely at nothing. He then grabbed hold of the nearest tentacle, using it to swing himself around in mid-air and launch himself back down at its owner with a diving kick.
The attack connected, sending the tentacle youma reeling back. The human looked as though he meant to follow it up, but was forced to leap away instead as the other two Inquisitors came at him in unison from either side, cutting him off from their comrade. One of them had sprouted swords in the place of hands, which she used to slice madly at him, while the other wielded a long, staff-like weapon, which seemed to vibrate oddly as it swung, leaving a trail of distortion in its wake.
The human danced around them, forced to abandon his assault on the tentacle youma, who seemed on the verge of regaining her balance—
—until over a dozen roses shot in rapid-fire from off to the side, spearing through the Inquisitor's body until she looked like a macabre pincushion. The youma let out a choked scream, then stumbled, clutching at herself, before finally crumbling into dust. Even as she died, Tuxedo Kamen swooped past her and into the fray.
The two Inquisitors whirled to face the new threat, a distraction which Ranma promptly exploited by driving his foot into the gut of the one to his left, doubling her over and causing her to drop her staff. But, by pausing his manic dodging to attack, he had given the Darkmistress a clean shot, and her crimson lightning immediately raged out toward him.
Ranma threw himself forward, rolling across the back of the doubled-over Inquisitor. As he landed on the other side of her, he kicked out behind himself, catching the youma in the rear and knocking her forward into the path of the Darkmistress's attack.
The youma howled as the blast hit her, sending her flying away, enveloped in crackling red energy. But even as the attack hurled her off, Ranma caught hold of her ankle, swinging her in a wide arc around him, and finally toward where Tuxedo Kamen was locked in combat with the other Inquisitor, cane clashing against blade.
At least, they were locked in combat until Ranma clobbered Tuxedo Kamen with his youma-sized club. The masked man and Ranma's impromptu weapon were both sent tumbling away, rolling human over youma over human. Ranma, meanwhile, had taken over Tuxedo Kamen's assault on the other Inquisitor without the slightest pause.
The tumble did not last long before Tuxedo Kamen took control of it, taking a rose and thrusting it deep into the chest of the already-damaged Inquisitor. The youma gasped, then disintegrated, leaving the masked man lying flat on his back.
It was far too perfect a target to pass up. Her face splitting into a nasty smile, the Darkmistress opened fire on his prone body, and even behind his mask she could read the distress in the man's face. From the awkward position he was in, there was no way he could get his feet under him in time to dodge.
Spinning his cane in his hands, Tuxedo Kamen planted it into the ground beside him. Then, just before the Darkmistress's attack hit, the cane extended, shooting the black-clad man high into the air. Then, as the ground exploded beneath him, the human swung the elongated weapon high over his head, and then brought it plummeting back down toward the Darkmistress.
The Darkmistress gritted her teeth, raising her arms high in a cross-block, catching the black weapon between them. She then had to dodge with all her speed, as the human rained down roses at her from on high, covering his descent until he landed in a crouch, his cloak billowing about him.
With a growl, the Darkmistress charged toward him, and he sprang out of his crouch at her as well. They clashed together in a furious exchange of blows. The impacts of the black cane stung against the youma's forearms, and with each blow she could sense the detestable magic that the weapon was imbued with.
But she was winning. She could taste it. She was driving him back, slowly but surely, pushing his defenses harder and harder. They circled and spun, beating on each other's guard, looking for an opening...
Then, suddenly, Ranma was there, leaping straight between the two combatants with a split-kick. His legs shot out to either side of him at both of their heads, and they only just barely managed to twist out of the way in time.
Ranma landed on one foot, pivoting gracefully on it to face the other two, even as they simultaneously launched a lightning bolt and a flurry of roses at him. He flowed into a backflip, allowing the Darkmistress's attack to pass under him, while his hands vanished in blurs of speed, snatching the roses out of the air. By the time he had landed, he had assembled the flowers into a rather nice bouquet—which he held out to Tuxedo Kamen, a grin on his face.
The Darkmistress let out a hiss of breath. A glance to the side confirmed that the youma that the pigtailed boy had been fighting was now down for the count—although oddly enough she appeared only unconscious, not destroyed. Nonetheless, it was obvious that this human, too, was an extremely dangerous fighter.
"Very well, then..." the corpse-like youma rasped out, as she crossed her arms in front of herself. Her hands curled into claws, and with an act of the will, she began to form her lightning gauntlets. "Let us try this once more..."
"Sailor Moon, watch out!"
The blonde Senshi wasn't exactly sure what kind of danger Sailor Mercury was warning her about, or even what direction it was coming from. Still, panicked, random dodging had served her pretty well so far, so she went with it. And, sure enough, when a punch from that stretchy-armed youma shot down from the rooftops, she had already half-run, half-tripped out of its path.
She continued to stumble desperately across the street, avoiding more and more elongated punches as she did so—until the youma was forced to break off its attack to escape a flurry of yellow-and-black bandannas.
She could see Sailor Mars a ways off, fighting against yet another of the youma as well. What are we gonna do? she wailed to herself. They're everywhere!
Hoping against hope, she turned back to the blue-clad Senshi. "Sailor Mercury!" she pleaded. "Do you have any ideas?"
The other Senshi turned to face her, and Sailor Moon was not comforted by the strained expression on her face. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think—"
Then, to Sailor Moon's horror, her words were cut off as an earthen fist erupted from the ground next to Sailor Mercury, smashing directly into her from the side and flinging her limply through the air.
She heard a victorious laugh, and out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the youma who had done it—crouching with one of her arms buried in the ground. As Sailor Mercury fell, the youma raised her other arm, preparing to finish off the helpless, airborne target.
"Aaaaaauuuuughhhhhh!" With a terrified scream, Sailor Moon ran straight into the space that the youma was targeting, arms flailing wildly, ponytails streaming behind her. She caught Sailor Mercury in mid-fall, and then without pausing for a moment, ran straight onward toward one of the now-abandoned stores that lined the sides of the street. Chips of cement dug into her back as the earth-fist youma's second strike ripped out of the ground just behind her.
She hit the door at a dead sprint. It was usually the sort of door that opened outward, but it made an exception for a superhuman magical girl moving with that kind of frantic velocity. Albeit an exception that left the door itself in rather poor condition.
That out of the way, Sailor Moon ran deep into the store, ducking behind some shelves, before finally coming to a stop. She was panting hard, and efforts to catch her breath didn't seem to be having much effect. Abandoning the effort, she looked down to check on Sailor Mercury.
The blue-clad Senshi was still breathing, which filled her with relief. But she was unconscious, which meant that they were down their smartest member, in a fight where they were already seriously outnumbered. "Sailor Mercury, wake up!" Sailor Moon begged, shaking the other girl a little. "Please... Sailor Mercury... I... Please wake up!"
Her entreaties were interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the store. Sailor Moon immediately froze, going as silent as a mouse, sucking in her breath and holding it.
"Come on out and play, Senshi..." sang out a mocking, lilting voice, obviously belonging to one of the youma. "You're not running away, are you? Just because I got one of your little friends?"
Sailor Moon shut her eyes tight, willing the whole situation to just go away, but the footsteps came ever closer. The youma was searching the aisles, each one bringing her closer to their hiding place. Opening her eyes, Sailor Moon tracked the sounds as they drew nearer and nearer. Then, swallowing hard, she drew her tiara from her forehead, changed it into its disc-shaped form, and hurled it straight through the shelves at the youma.
The bladed weapon tore through the rows of shelves without slowing. Looking through the holes it made, Sailor Moon caught a brief glimpse of the enemy, and she could see the youma's eyes bulge even through the narrow slits of her demonic mask. But the youma twisted backward just in time, arching her body so that her back was parallel to the ground. The tiara sliced just inches above her.
Wrenching herself back forward, the youma drove both her fists into the ground, taking a guess at where the tiara had come from. Sailor Moon jumped back with a yelp, as two earthen fists shot straight up in front of her, flipping shelves crazily through the air and scattering their contents in every direction.
Looking down, Sailor Moon realized that this had had the added effect of burying Sailor Mercury under a covering of miscellaneous merchandise. The blonde girl's first instinct was to try to dig her friend out... but then she realized that if Sailor Mercury was unconscious, that this was probably about the safest place for her right now.
As long as this youma was led away from here.
Taking a deep breath, she burst into a run, shooting past the started youma, who had apparently not anticipated her opponent making such a sudden break. She raced back to just outside the store, recalling her tiara as she did so, and then whirled to face her opponent once more.
"Wrecking convenience stores is a crime against shoppers everywhere!" she shouted at the masked monster. "I won't stand by and allow it! In the name of the moo—"
Three rapid-fire fists of earth, barely dodged, put an abrupt end to the speech, and initiated the battle once more.
Ukyo ran for all she was worth, looking back and forth, buildings shooting by her on either side. She reached out with every sense she had to try and search for signs of combat. At the same time, she tried not to consider just how daunting the odds were of finding what she was searching for. There was just so much ground to cover... and Ranma could be in trouble already, even as she hunted for him!
But she pushed all such thoughts to the back of her mind, concentrating instead on getting the most she could out of her danger sense. It'll all work out, she told herself firmly. It's not like this is the first time Ranchan has gotten himself in over his head. No matter how bad the odds are, there's no way he'd let some bunch of monsters beat him. I'm sure of it!
And yet there was a gnawing undercurrent of fear worming its way though her—fear that no amount of denial could erase.
That fear spurred her on, driving her to run even faster. It'll all work out! she repeated, with stubborn determination. I'm going to find him in time! I have to! As his fiancée... As his best friend... As someone who just plain loved the idiot, she wasn't going to stand by and let those youma hurt him!
And if she did help save him... maybe then he would finally see that she was the best choice to marry. It would prove how useful she could be. It would prove that she wasn't just a burden, holding him back. If she could do that, if she could just show him that... she was certain that he would stay by her side.
I'm coming, Ranchan, she thought, increasing her pace even more, as the vastness of the city stretched out before her. I'm coming. Just... don't you dare die!
Don't you dare leave me behind again...
Ryouga made a running dive, sliding behind one of the abandoned cars. A rain of needles chewed up the street in his wake, tracing his path until they began to embed in the vehicle's metal framework.
In reply, Ryouga ripped off one of his bandannas and threw it back around the car. The bladed fabric spun in a wide arc through the air, buzzing in at the youma and forcing her to dive for cover as well.
Then the next instant, a shadow fell over Ryouga.
He leaped backward, just as another of the black-robed figures plummeted down from above, slamming her fist into the street with enough force to shatter it. From there, she immediately twisted into a spin kick that tore through the air toward Ryouga's head.
The lost boy raised his arm, and the youma's kick collided with his block in a bone-rattling crash. Ryouga gritted his teeth, but withstood the impact. Then he grabbed her leg and yanked her toward him.
His first punch stopped her forward momentum cold. He proceeded to wind up for his second, far more powerful punch, which sent the Inquisitor flying back into another abandoned car, completely crumpling the vehicle's frame around her.
Ryouga smirked, but had no time to savor the victory before another volley of needles made him dive back behind the car he had been using for cover. He growled. That particular youma was really getting on his nerves. She would have to be his next target...
But it was then that a curious stinging sensation made him look down at his fists in puzzlement. What the...?
His knuckles were bleeding slightly.
He whirled back around, just in time to see the youma he had punched pull herself out of the smashed remains of the car, not showing the slightest sign of injury. A low chuckle escaped from behind the demonic iron mask, and then the Inquisitor came running at him once again.
Ryouga swore under his breath. The youma behind him continued her withering barrage of needles as the other one closed, keeping the lost boy pinned down behind his cover. Even with her ally in such close proximity, the shooter showed no hesitation in spraying endless waves of the projectiles at them. Any of the needles that hit the other youma simply embedded there with a dull thud, and no visible detriment.
And then the charging youma reached close quarters. Ryouga rolled to the right and to the left, trying to dodge punches and stomps while staying ducked behind the limited area of cover that the car provided from the shower of sharp death. He took every opening he could to retaliate, but all his blows managed to do was knock the youma back momentarily, and bloody his fists even more.
But, gradually, his inability to hurt the youma began to give him an idea...
The next time that the youma charged at him, the lost boy caught her with a shoulder throw that flung her spinning into the air, over the car he was taking shelter behind. He followed a moment later, staying in her shadow, protected from the needles by her body.
He slammed his shoulder into her from behind, in a mad bull-rush that carried them both even further. And then he grabbed hold of her, using her as a living shield as he ran for all he was worth toward the shooter.
She fought him all the way, swinging back at him with her elbows, but her position was too awkward to do much damage to someone as tough as him. The other youma continued to fire, but the shots only thudded harmlessly into Ryouga's captive.
When that failed, she shifted her aim lower, trying to hit Ryouga's churning legs. But the lost boy jumped at the last second, and planted a kick between the shoulder blades of his shield. The youma went flying forward like a cannonball for the remaining distance, smashing into the shooter, prompting a scream as that youma was impaled by her own needles, which she had fired into her compatriot.
The two youma tumbled one over another, even as Ryouga moved to follow up his attack. He leapt high into the air, using gravity to increase the power of his punch as he hurtled down toward them—
—then, just before he hit, a long black arm stretched all the way from the other side of the battlefield, latching onto his neck. The next instant he was wrenched violently off course, hurtling toward the Inquisitor whose limb it was.
As one arm reeled him in, the other shot out toward him in a punch. The two opposing forces met halfway, resulting in an impact that drove the air from Ryouga's lungs and sent him into a crazy tailspin through the air, until he eventually crashed to earth.
He lurched back to his feet, gasping for breath, just in time to see an elongated leg swinging around toward the side of his head. He ducked underneath it, then reached up to grab the limb and yank it.
It was like trying to grab tar. His hands sank into the greasy substance as it slithered through his fingers, retracting back to make way for the next attack, another punch.
Forget this! Ryouga thought savagely. Playing around with her arms will just get me killed. I need to get to the source. He broke into a run toward the Inquisitor, slipping around the incoming punch as he closed.
The barrage of attacks became thicker the closer he got, the impossible limbs twisting and arcing to attack him from in front, from behind, from above, from every conceivable angle. He twisted, sidestepped, jumped and blocked, as the arms and legs shot around him, trying to hit him, trying to ensnare him. Relentlessly, he fought his way forward, until at last he reached the main body and slammed a kick directly into her torso.
With a wet splorch, his foot went straight through her chest and out the other side. But any satisfaction he might have felt was instantly dashed, as the youma's chest hardened around his leg, preventing him from withdrawing it. Crap, her whole body's like that!
Before Ryouga could try anything else, one of the youma's hands grabbed hold of his standing leg and swung it up into the air. At the same time, the part of her torso that was clutching his other leg began to distort, bulging out into a third arm extending out of her chest. The Inquisitor held him upside-down, just out of reach of her main body, as she laughed mockingly at him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryouga saw that the two youma he had fought before were back on their feet. The one with the needle gun seemed to be heavily injured, barely standing, but she was able to raise one of her weapons toward him, and he knew that she was about to open fire.
He turned back to the laughing youma that had entrapped him, even as his hand shot to his belt. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he ripped the strip of cloth from around his waist and slashed off her head.
The Inquisitor crumbled to dust in mid-laugh, releasing him from her grasp. Ryouga began to fall... but he knew it was too late. The needle youma already had a bead on him. He couldn't dodge until he reached the ground, and he wasn't going to make it in time. Even now, he could see her sighting along her arm—
—and then a shuriken shot down from the rooftops, burying its blades deep into the Inquisitor's back. The youma lurched drunkenly forward, then dropped to her knees, then flopped flat on her face, disintegrating as well.
Ryouga looked up, to where Beneda was peeking over the edge of a roof. He flashed her a smile and a thumbs-up, which she returned, a bit more shakily.
But already the battle was demanding his attention again. The remaining Inquisitor of the three he had fought was charging across the battlefield toward him. He narrowed his eyes, preparing himself to engage the seemingly-invincible bruiser. The distance between them became less and less, and Ryouga took a deep breath—
—just as a massive blast of flame roared in from the side, engulfing the youma and hurling her away. Ryouga whirled, and saw Sailor Mars standing there, smoke rising from her fingertips.
She turned to face him as well, and for a moment it seemed as though she were going to attack. But then she leaped aside, as an iron sphere the size of a bowling ball crashed down from above.
The heavy sphere was connected back to the youma wielding it by a long metal chain, feeding directly into the Inquisitor's arm socket. Seeing that she had missed, the youma began to retract the chain, reeling in the weapon. Her other arm had an identical wrecking ball, which she was twirling on its chain in lazy circles.
Sailor Mars ran at the ball-and-chain youma, unleashing her magical attacks. Ryouga, however, turned back to look at the youma she had just shot.
The Inquisitor had climbed back to her feet yet again. The Senshi's fire had ignited her robe; her entire body was engulfed in flame as she strode toward the lost boy. As she walked, she tore off her mask, and the burning remains of her garments, revealing the youma that had been underneath.
Her entire body was encased in a thick, bulky brown carapace, like some kind of hideous, human-shaped insect. Even her eyes had an insectoid quality to them, green, multi-faceted orbs, sunk deep in the armored, overlapping shells that were her face.
She continued to walk, traces of smoke still rising from her, until she and Ryouga stood mere paces from each other, the youma looking down at the shorter human. Then she snapped her fists up into a fighting stance.
The lost boy raised his fists as well.
Beneda scurried across the rooftop as fast as she could, anxious to reach another hiding place. She had betrayed her previous position by shooting the Inquisitor before she could hurt Ryouga, and although the combatants below were still keeping each other busy, she wanted to be somewhere else quickly, in case one of them suddenly decided to target her.
She reached the back edge of the roof and vaulted over it, dropping the two stories to the ground. The building was now between her and the fight. She ran along behind the rows of stores, eventually finding an alley that provided a suitable angle. She crept down it, peeking out around the corner that fed back into the street. It was perfect; she could see everything from here.
Across the street, Sailor Mars was fighting toe-to-toe with the Inquisitor wielding the twin wrecking balls. Roaring currents of flame swirled and criss-crossed with the spinning, smashing weights. They dodged feverishly around each others attacks, each trying to find an opening, an advantage.
Nearby, Ryouga and the youma with the insect armor were pounding away at each other with terrifying ferocity. The very air seemed to reverberate with the force of the blows they exchanged, neither fighter showing any signs of stopping. Between the two of them, Ryouga was getting far more techniques past the other's guard. But they had no discernable effect, while Beneda could see the lost boy wince with each hit he took. A cold chill wormed its way through her stomach at the realization.
Sailor Moon had taken to the rooftops on the far side of the road. She was buzzing the remaining Inquisitor mercilessly with her magic tiara, keeping the youma on the defensive as it tried to keep ahead of the deadly weapon. The Senshi had evidently realized the advantage of the high ground against a foe whose attacks came up from the earth.
Further down the street, Ranma, Tuxedo Kamen and the Darkmistress were locked in a furious, three-way war, each going after the others in a blinding flurry of strikes. It was impossible to tell who was winning; whenever one combatant seemed to gain an advantage, that would concentrate the attention of both the others on them, until the balance shifted yet again.
Beneda's gaze shifted furtively back and forth between Ranma's fight and Ryouga's. She had been confident in their ability to win in a simple battle against the Senshi alone... but with the Dark Kingdom forces in the picture as well, the possibilities became too chaotic to even begin to predict. It could go any of a million different ways, and many of them did not end well for the two martial artists.
The youma clenched her hands tightly as she continued to watch the boys' fights play themselves out...
Ranma hopped backward, twisting furiously as he evaded the Darkmistress's barrage of punches. He could smell the tang of ozone as her lightning-encased fists shot past him, sometimes missing him by a much thinner margin than he would have liked.
From behind him, Tuxedo Kamen tried to swing his cane into the back of Ranma's head, but the pigtailed fighter ducked at the last moment, and caught the other man's wrist as it went by. Using his grip, he manipulated the man's arm so that his cane blocked a few of the Darkmistress's blows, before a kick from his unwilling assistant forced him to relinquish his hold.
Then the Darkmistress was on them both, and they sprang apart in opposite directions. One corner of Ranma's mouth quirked up in a half-grin. Yeah... he thought. I was right to take her on myself...
It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with old P-chan wanting to get even with the enemy who had beaten him. He certainly knew how that felt. But they were in a really tight spot here, and the simple fact was that the nature of Ryouga's fighting style made it a bad match against someone with powers like this "Darkmistress" had.
The Anything-Goes heir went back on the offensive, his fists fairly vanishing as they pounded the youma, slipping around her attempts to block. She was weathering his hits... for now. The individual punches in his blinding flurry didn't have the same raw force as one of Ryouga's brutal haymakers. But they were beginning to tell, slowly but surely. He could see it in her eyes.
The Darkmistress tried to counterattack, but Ranma slid around her punch and spun his elbow into her rib cage, then followed that with a kick to the exact same spot, which knocked the youma right into a cane swing by Tuxedo Kamen. She snarled, leaping away.
The problem with fighting the Darkmistress was simple, really, Ranma reflected. You couldn't block her attacks, and you couldn't let her block yours. The whole thing was one giant challenge of subtlety, feints, speed and evasion.
And, fortunately enough, those were all things Ranma had in spades.
He kept up the pressure on the hideous youma, driving her further and further back. Tuxedo Kamen hurled a volley of roses at her as well, and though she managed to evade them all, it left Ranma with a beautiful opening. He lunged toward her, intent on making the most of the opportunity. His leg shot out in a devastating kick aimed right at her face—
And then, an instant before the attack landed, the Darkmistress's face became that of a terrified Akane.
Pure, simple reflex caused Ranma's leg to seize up, pulling the technique just before it landed, and "Akane" was quick to capitalize on it. She lunged toward him—but while Ranma had been caught off-guard by the illusion's sudden use, he still had the advance warning from Ryouga's fight, and was able to quickly adjust. He jumped for all he was worth off his standing leg, his enemy shooting harmlessly by underneath him as he did a handspring off her head, flipping through the air back to the ground.
"Hah!" he called out, spinning around. "You're gonna have to do better than cheap tricks like that if you want to have a chance against me!"
Slowly, "Akane" turned around. "We shall see, human," she said, speaking the incongruous words in a voice that was so perfectly like the real Akane's that it made Ranma's skin crawl. "We shall see..."
Ryouga dove at the armored Inquisitor, his belt-sword blurring as he hacked furiously away at his foe. The weapon spun and whirled in his hands, carving countless gashes into the insectoid carapace... but never even coming close to penetrating.
He tried to target the joints, to stab through the youma's knee through what looked like a chink in its protection. And, for a moment, it looked as though it might work. But it had only just begun to enter when she slammed her knee down to the ground, trapping the belt in place. She followed that by swinging her fist toward Ryouga's gut.
The lost boy managed to absorb the punch on his forearm, but he was still knocked away, losing his grip on his weapon in the process. Breathing heavily, he slowly backpedaled even farther. Damn it, this isn't working! he thought. How do I take her down?
Whatever substance that cursed armor was made out of, he couldn't do anything against it. Even the Bakusai Tenketsu had failed—in the exact same way it failed whenever he tried to use it on a material that was alive.
His contemplation was abruptly cut off, as a flash of his danger sense made him dive for cover. A second later, that entire area exploded into a blazing inferno. A quick glance confirmed the source as Sailor Mars, who was looking a bit vexed that her latest attempt to take a potshot at them had failed.
Ryouga smiled humorlessly. Well I'm sorry, he thought. But I'm not just going to stand here and let you... shoot... at...
Wait! Wait, that might actually work!
It wasn't really much of a plan... but nothing he had thrown at this monster seemed to be working. Turning away from the armored youma, he made a break toward the building on which Sailor Moon was standing.
The question now was simple. What could he say to make a girl very angry with him, very quickly?
And, of course, that question led naturally to another one. What would Ranma say to her?
Already he could hear heavy footfalls coming from behind him, as the armored youma gave chase. Fortunately, all it took was a brief recollection of various arguments between Ranma and Akane, combined with a brief glance at the blonde Senshi, and the answer just about dropped itself into his lap.
"Hey!" he shouted as he ran, pointing a finger at Sailor Moon, who turned in puzzlement. "You! Flat-chested girl!"
Never let it be said, mused Ryouga, as the blonde Senshi hurled the Moon Tiara down at him with an outraged squawk, that I wasn't willing to learn from the masters. The glowing disc sliced toward him with deadly speed, even as he could hear the youma pounding in pursuit. This was going to be tight.
Just as the tiara was about to hit him, he swung his hand up underneath it, taking hold of it and redirecting its path. He spun it around him like a discus thrower, building up as much momentum as he could. And then, with the charging youma just a few feet away from him, he threw it with all his might.
The ancient weapon of Moon Kingdom magic shot toward the oncoming Inquisitor, propelled by the raw strength of one of Nerima's most powerful martial artists. Its velocity was such that it seemed less a disc and more a long streak of furiously glowing light. It caught the youma right in the midsection, cutting her instantly in two and sending the top half spinning wildly through the air, spraying youma dust in all directions.
Ryouga glanced back up at Sailor Moon, who was standing with mouth slightly agape, as though trying to piece together how she should feel about one enemy tricking her into helping take out yet another enemy. But the lost boy didn't have time to find out what she decided; the pause in the tiara assault had allowed the earth-fist youma time to get her feet back under her, and she sent one of her attacks exploding out of the ground at him.
But this time, he was ready, leaping over the fist as it came toward him, then rolling down the length of its "arm" and sprinting toward the Inquisitor.
Ranma swore under his breath, dodging wildly as "Akane" mounted a relentless attack. He tried to counter, slipping under a punch and driving a kick toward her knee. But she jumped over it, her own leg lashing out in a kick that Ranma was hard-pressed to dodge.
He knew, intellectually, that this wasn't really Akane, of course. He could certainly force himself—using his conscious mind—to try and beat the dirty impostor to a pulp. But as he knew all too well, in a fight like this, conscious thought was far too slow a thing to rely on.
He was a martial artist. He had spent a lifetime ingraining his actions and reactions, pushing them deep into his subconscious. But now the youma's trick was playing haywire with all of that. He had to think about his strikes, had to constantly override the protective reflex that knew how deadly these attacks would be against the real Akane.
It cost him only the tiniest fraction of a second to do so... but against a foe of this level, that tiny fraction of a second was a devastating disadvantage.
It wouldn't have even been so bad if it were just Akane's image that the Darkmistress had taken, Ranma thought, as he defended himself against the youma's continued attack. No, the eerie likeness extended all the way down to the little things, like the way she moved, the tilt of her head. Everything about her simply screamed "Akane!" to him—which made the truth all the more unsettling.
Suddenly, a burst of roses made the Darkmistress back off in her attack, and Ranma gave a half-grin. Well that's one problem with her little trick, he thought. Tuxedo-guy here doesn't have any feelings for Akane, so it only half-works...
Then he blanched a little, realizing what he'd just inadvertently thought. Uh, not that I have any feelings for the uncute tomboy either! he hurriedly clarified to himself.
The pigtailed fighter, the masked vigilante and the illusion-clad youma all circled each other warily. Ranma licked his lips, feeling notably less in control of things than he liked, but still determined to win one way or another. His eyes met with "Akane's," and he stared deep into them, trying with all his perception to find some hint of the evil he knew was lurking behind that guise. For several seconds they locked gazes in their battle of wills.
Then she smiled. She smiled the smile, the warm, radiant smile that had made Ranma's heart do flip-flops on the few, precious occasions that he had received it from the real Akane. It was that exact smile, perfectly replicated on the face of a monster.
And then she lunged toward him once again.
Ryouga pounded along the street toward his target, ducking under another attack by the Moon Tiara as he ran. The Inquisitor he was attacking drove her arms into the ground again and again, sending pillar after pillar of earth at him, but Ryouga had figured out the timing to them now. He swerved back and forth around them even as they exploded from the ground.
He could see that the youma was beginning to get flustered, jumping back in an attempt to keep the distance, but Ryouga was faster. Just need to take her out, and her partner, the lost boy thought. Then I can focus on these "Senshi."
A feeling of grim satisfaction swept through him, causing him to run even harder, propelling himself toward a goal well in sight. At this point, it was practically in the bag. He already knew exactly how he would defeat this one, and his thoughts were already running ahead to the best way to handle the magical girls.
It was then that his danger sense went absolutely ballistic.
Sometimes the "feel" of his sixth sense was faint—a fleeting impression, like a quiet whisper. Other times it was more distinct—a sharp jolt, like a shouted warning. But this time it screamed at him, with near-deafening force: movemovemovemoveMOVE!
Caught right in mid-run, he nevertheless threw everything he had into a last-instant attempt to change his course. He twisted the foot that had contact with the ground, using the meager leverage to try and fling himself to one side. He threw his arms around in concert with the motion, fighting for every last bit of torque.
Then, as if in slow-motion, he saw it. A sphere of black energy, plummeting down from directly overhead. He continued his spin, straining every muscle in his body away from the attack. With wide eyes, he tracked the projectile as it descended, passing within an inch of his chest.
And then it hit the ground, detonating. Ryouga was flung through the air by the force of the blast, flipping end over end, then crashing back down to the street and sliding across the pavement before finally coming to a stop.
Shakily, the lost boy pulled himself to his feet, his eyes fixed on the gaping crater that stretched out where he had just been. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted up, up, up to where the attack had originated.
He hung there, floating effortlessly in midair, his cold blue eyes looking down on all of them, his mouth twisted into a sneer. One hand was still smoking from discharging the blast, the smoldering tendrils wafting up around his grey uniform, past his short blond hair.
Then he glanced away from Ryouga, over to where the Darkmistress was standing, and at last he spoke. "I gave you fair warning that I would be watching you..." he said. "Yet it seems that you have lost control of this situation regardless. Now, however..."
He swept the battlefield with his gaze, taking stock of all the combatants. "Now, this little farce is over."
Ryouga felt his throat go dry, remembering what Beneda had told them about her masters in the Dark Kingdom. He knew that there was only one person this new opponent could be.
Jadeite had arrived.