Okay, people. Fair warning that this fic is gonna be a bit darker and less slap-happy the other stuff I've written, so take that into account when the gritty and rather grim descriptions come out. And while I didn't WANT to label it as a crossover, I kinda have to for honesty's sake, even if it risks giving away a bunch of the plot for those who have experience with WoD.

Also, I'm experimenting a tad with this fic, which is why the chapters are going to be extremely short, so bear all that in mind as we move forward.

I do not on Ranma ½ or the characters from that series. I am also not a member/employee of White Wolf publishing, and claim no credit for their works.

The Lost
Chapter 1

OOOOOO

The scrape of metal on metal.

Pounding footsteps followed by almost imperceptible hiss of a blade sinking into warm flesh.

"W-what have you done?!"

"Killed you."

Two voices. One choked by pain, thickened in the way that only someone of supreme confidence can attain when they find out their pride has become their ultimate downfall. The other voice is cold, but with a furious, bitter twist of absolute disgust.

A harsh tear brings a pained gasp which devolves into a duet of wordless screams of fear and rage as the killer's weapon strikes home over and over again, until there is only silence save for the harsh wet thuds of a newly-made corpse being given several unnecessary stabs.

The body already cooling, the one who had turned a living thing into a slab of pock-marked meat panted for air, before spitting, "First you...then her," and getting to their feet.

Footfalls echoed as the killer left the scene of their crime, leaving behind a pool of blood and a soft, hopeful whisper.

"Home…"

OOOOOO

Mousse grimaced at the sunlight streaming through his window. The lackluster sleeping arrangements of the Cat Cafe's 'servant's quarters' (as he'd come to call them) making it impossible to sleep past dawn, even if it wasn't for the old ghoul who would be croaking for him to awaken moments later. With nothing more to do than accept the fact that he was now firmly in the land of consciousness, the master of hidden weapons sat up and prepared to start his day. As he rolled out of bed however, he noticed something. Namely, the fuzzy black lines standing out from a deep brown box at the foot of his bedroll, the edges of which were similarly blurred.

Mousse squinted and the lines gained definition, turning into the small dresser where he stored his meager wardrobe. After checking for a few moments more, his hands came up to his face and patted his ears. Blinking quizzically, he looked around and saw the slightly reflective circles of his glasses next to his pillow, which soon found themselves being raised to his eyes. The dark-haired boy winced as the world went fish-eyed, well-defined but also bowed as though reality itself had tunneled in front of him and he pulled the spectacles away before a headache formed.

His eyes narrowed in curiosity, only to slowly widen as he turned his gaze around his room, before eventually raising a hand to his face. With the palm of his hand only an inch from his nose, he slowly pulled it away and stopped the moment the faint lines across his hand became indistinguishable.

Mousse's glasses clattered to the floor, as the Master of Hidden Weapons breathlessly whispered, "I...I can see…"

Down the hall, Cologne was pogoing towards the part-timers room when her Great-Granddaughter opened her door and looked blearily out into the hall, her lilac-tresses mussed into a wicked case of bedhead as she said "Good morning, Great-Grandmother."

"Good morning, Shampoo." Cologne replied happily "You going to be ready by the time we open?"

"Of course, Great-Grandmother." Shampoo yawned before stepping into the hallway and adding, "I just need to brush my hair." as she padded to the bathroom.

Cologne paused in her hopping, having caught something in her descendants voice that seemed...off. Turning around, she called "Shampoo, are you-"

"I CAN SEE!"

Both women jumped as Mousses door was thrown open, with the boy himself leaping into the hallway and looking around frantically. Catching sight of them, he smiled widely and shouted "Shampoo! My beloved!" and ran towards the pair. Cologne grunted in annoyance, preparing to belt the whelp before he grabbed her and making a note that her discipline had been slipping lately as she thought the idiot had learned his lesson about glomping random people and paraphernalia first thing in the morning.

Then Mousse was past her, and the old woman blinked as a loud shout of "AIYAH!" came from behind her. Turning around, she saw Mousse hugging Shampoo tightly, lifting the shocked amazon off the ground and spinning around while crowing happily, "I can see! I can see!"

"Aiyah! Mousse, you idiot! What do you think you're doing!?"

There it was again, a ping on Cologne's well-honed radar as the part-timer dropped her heir to the floor. Shampoo caught herself easily, but was caught off-guard by suddenly finding her cheeks sandwiched between Mousses hands as he pulled her face towards his. Raw unadulterated shock was the only thing that saved the blind fools life, as Cologne and Shampoo were too surprised by his actions to stop him from what they both assumed to be him crossing a well-drawn line in the sand.

But he didn't. Instead of kissing the love of his life full on the lips, Mousse pulled her close enough that her face was only inches from his and stared at her in an intensity normally reserved for high energy lasers. Then his eyes glimmered and his smile softened as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Shampoo...you're...more beautiful than I ever dreamed…"

It took Shampoo a moment to register the compliment, blinking in shock as her sleep-addled mind cleared.

Then she blushed furiously, hauled back and slugged Mousse full in the face, knocking him the length of the hallway and flat on his back at the base of Cologne's staff with a harsh shout of, "What have I told you about being grabby, Mousse!?"

It said something about Cologne's mental state when the mildly concussed Mousse, thanks to his obsession with all things related to Shampoo, caught the change in his beloved's speech pattern before she did and pushed himself up onto his elbows to ask, "Shampoo? Why are you talking like that?"

"Talking like what!?"

"You're talking normally."

Elder and younger Amazon blinked, the elder focusing on her Great-Granddaughter, who developed an eye twitch as she growled, "Normally!?"

"Yeah, you're using contractions and everything." Mousse said simply. "Normally you say 'stupid mousse' not 'Mousse, you idiot'."

"Dammit, Mousse!" Shampoo stomped her foot, splintering the floorboards under her feet as she shouted "It's a speech impediment! I don't need you making fun of it!"

Mousse blinked at that "Really? I thought you were doing that on purpose."

"Why would I do that?!"

"Well, I thought it sounded cute." Mousse smiled widely "And figured you were using it as some kind of ploy to snare that enemy of all women."

Shampoo snarled at the insult against her Airen, even as her cheeks reddened again. Before she could pound the deluded fool, Cologne caught their attention by calling Mousse's name. When he looked up, the Elder Amazon stuck a hand out and said "How many fingers do you see?"

Mousse focused on the fuzzy protrusions about a foot-and-a-half over his head and said "Three?" Then he squinted and nodded "Yep, definitely three."

Shampoo's jaw dropped and Cologne stared at the formerly blind martial artist. Klaxon's blared in the Matriarch's mind as she pieced together his eyesight and her heir's coherent speech patterns, and she softly said "What...has happened here?"

-O-

So, what madness has been wrought this day?

This answers to this and more, coming soon...