Yagami 12

by Black Dragon6

Iori Yagami fell in love with and married Nodoka Saotome while training under his evil master, Happousai, along with Soun and Genma. Together they had a son, Ranma. How will the young Yagami deal with what he is, and what he has become?

1. A New Flame is Lit

Yagami 1/2

A Ranma 0.5/King of Fighters Crossover

by Black Dragon



http://www.angelfire.com/anime2/fanficlair/index.html

Standard disclaimer applies. I own neither Ranma 1/2 or KOF. Iori is cool. Kyo sucks. K is just weird, and Terry Bogard rocks. I can't think of anything else to say.



Chapter 1

A New Flame is Lit

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Genma looked at his best friend Soun in nervous terror as the Anything- Goes school's newest member started his latest argument with the Dreaded Master, the Biggest Hentai Who Ever Lived, and the Enemy of All Womens' Undergarments: Happousai.

The two martial artists couldn't even begin to imagine how anyone could even think of standing up to the Master, but this man had done it not only once, but every day since he had asked for training. The beatings that followed were just as brutal as anything they had ever suffered and worse (because this one fought back), and yet the man's spine was still as solid as a steel pole.

Genma didn't like what that implied in reference to his spine, so he concentrated on the argument while trying to remain unnoticeable.



"Listen, you little freak! I didn't join up with you buffoons to wash dishes or save your hide from an angry mob!! You idiots call this training?!"

Happousai looked up at his newest disciple sternly. He had known from the get-go that this one would be trouble, but the fool had money, and was rather attractive, and that brought food and women, two things which he simply couldn't live without. Besides, this man was as strong, if not stronger, than Genma and Soun put together, and had some rather...... interesting capabilities. If the moron would stop complaining about his methods and just steal what he was told to steal, Happousai might even actually train him some.

But none of that was any excuse for disobeying his master!



At over 6 feet, and a wide frame composed of solid muscle, Iori Yagami was not the sort of person one wanted to screw around with. Fiery red hair spread forward above his face shielded his eyes from the sun while he towered over the little man who was somehow so much more powerful than he. Iori wore what he always did: Red pants with a red belt attached to his knees, and a short black jacket with a crescent moon emblem on the back, with the tails of his undershirt trailing down the waist where his jacket ended.

Iori was also furious. This gnome had beaten him so fast the first time he challenged him, he felt sure that this "Anything Goes" would make him fairly indestructible, given enough time. Except that the 'wise, all- powerful master' was a total pervert and thief that liked to foist off responsibility and blame onto his students, then call it 'training'. Iori wasn't pleased when he looked at the other two students of the old lecher, either. If that's what he had to look forward to after a few years of putting up with the little creep, he'd much sooner go back to training on his own.



"I won't hear any more of this! You'll go to town with Soun and Genma and steal some sake for me, or you'll face punishment! Understand?!"

Iori sneered at him and raised his hand, palm upraised. "Yeah, I understand." A purple pyre ignited on his palm, sending colorful glowing embers in cascades down his arm.

Happousai growled. "Soun! Genma! Teach this ingrate some manners!"

The aforementioned students almost whimpered in fear, but got into fighting stances at their master's glare. In truth, the Master's beatings hurt less than Iori's, but Happousai had other methods of punishment at his disposal.



The attack went pretty much as expected. Soun went first with Genma slipping around to the flank, and the long haired man almost fell victim to purple wave of fire that sped across the ground before he got within striking range. Genma closed in as Soun was sent reeling by a back kick, and actually managed to land a good punch before having to evade a clawing swipe from the taller man. He didn't manage to dodge the left hook that followed, though, and was sent reeling before he was knocked into the air by a right hook, and then slammed into the ground by a double fisted punch. Before Soun could land his own attack from the rear, however, purple flames flowed from Iori in spirals as the man jumped upward and spun in the air, blasting Soun in a cocoon intense heat.

Both of his students on the ground stunned, and probably in severe pain, though he knew they weren't out of the fight completely yet, Happousai stood up (adding maybe 2 cm. to his previous height) and faced his rebellious student.

Iori stared contemptuously at the bodies on the ground struggling to get back up. "Pathetic. If this is what I have to look forward to as a student, I'll do fine on my own!" Shrugging his hands into his pockets, he started to walk away. And then slammed into a tree, courtesy of Happousai's pipe.

"Grrrrr... DIE OLD MAN!!!!"



It wasn't long before Iori was on the ground unconscious, and covered with quickly healing bruises. Happousai sat on top of him, lighting his pipe in one of the many smoldering purple blazes that lit the area.

Watching all of this, Soun and Genma stared impassively at the guttering fires. Happousai obviously didn't know it, but he was dealing with something that he didn't understand, something he wouldn't be able to control. Something that couldn't be controlled. As dense as they were, Soun and Genma knew this. And watched silently as the trees and brush burned in a purple rage.

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Nodoka Kaitsune hummed happily to herself as she walked through the halls of the women's dorm, on her way to her next Kendo practice session. As the captain, she held a perfect record for attendence, and they would need all the practice they could get in their next match. So she walked along the hallway with her bokken resting on her shoulder, content in her regular schedule.

Of course, her regular schedule didn't count on an explosion around the locker room, or a chorus of female screams followed by cackling laughter. She rushed to the scene, to find the last thing she expected: a little old man with black scarf tied around his face, carrying a sack nearly 4 times his own size.

Her eyes widened as she realized that the sack was nearly overflowing with bras and panties, and she did some quick figuring and reached the most obvious (and correct) conclusion.

She had thought she held the element of surprise, but when her bokken dropped down onto the old pervert, he apparently wasn't there any more. Then it was her turn to be surprised as the wrinkled lecher alighted on top of her bokken, apparently at ease on the dangerous perch.

Happousai took full advantage of her shock, going for the full-frontal attack on Nodoka's breasts, squeezing without abandon. A simple jump, and he was beyond the reach of her indignant fury, and more importantly, her bokken.

Nodoka was beyond coherent rage as she ran after the little troll, swinging her weapon wildly. Nobody touched her like that and got away with it! Her anger rose to heights she didn't even realize were possible as the old pervert suddenly doubled back and flipped her skirt up, passing by without a care. Then he jumped out the window, and she saw several groups of murderous young women moving downstairs to intercept. She had more training than that, so she followed out the window.



The drop was slightly more than she had anticipated, and she hit the ground with a wince as a jolt of pain shot up her leg. As she scanned the landscape, she idly rubbed her calf and rear to soothe the pain.

Her scanning stopped, and a vein popped out on her head as she realized that she wasn't the one rubbing her rear.

Once again her attack missed, though, and the little old pervert bounded away and faced her.

"Whatsa matter cutie? Don't you wanna have some fun?"

This did not help Nodoka's temperment one iota, and she simply stood there, boiling in rage, as the little gnome cackled to himself.

"Doushita!"

Happousai and Nodoka both halted their thoughts at the shout, and Happousai turned around to be blasted by a jet of purple flame that had dug a trench in its passage across the ground.

"Yowch! What the? Who did that?!" Happousai knew who it was, of course, but felt the shout of indignation appropriate.

Nodoka stared in awe at the thin, muscular figure that stood regarding Happousai with all the disgust and contempt that such a cold face could muster. Purple fire danced around him in waves, and he literally glowed with the dark hue. Each clenched fist was a bluish fireball. He resembled a demon of sorts, and seemed to ooze menace and pain.

"I've had enough of you, old man! I suggest you cop your last feel, because this field will be your grave! NOW!! Drown in a sea of your own blood!! YARGH!!!" Iori tossed both fists forward, and twin blasts opened up on the ground, huge purple pillars of fire blowing apart the Earth as they wreaked destruction about them.

Happousai was slightly taken aback, and leapt backwards out of range. Unfortunately, his bag hadn't survived the blast as well as he had, and it tore, spilling the ill-gotten garments into the path of the incoming energy. Happousai gaped, then snarled, bringing his own blazing aura to bear. "You ungrateful wretch! You were supposed to be covering my escape! You'll pay for this injustice!" He had prepared for this, more or less. The man had attacked him so often now, that he had actually begun to do some appreciable damage before the ancient lecher could put him down. Given that he had always valued his health over his integrity, he had found it acceptable to once again put to use the technique that he had sealed all of 6 months ago, regardless of any promise he had made.

"Happo Daikarin!" A multitude of bombs spread onto the field, and Iori sped to the side, blurring as he seemed to almost slide across the ground, to brace himself against wall of the dorm.



Nodoka could do nothing but watch in fascinated horror as yellow and purple detonations littered the college grounds, tearing apart stone, shattering windows, and setting plaster and plant alike blazing and dying. Other students that approached to watch quickly fled in horror at the chaos, with a few standing behind Nodoka, feeling safe enough so long as she was there.



And after 3 minutes, though it must have seemed like hours, the devastation was over. Iori hit the ground on his side, bleeding from a dozen wounds and twitching from half again as many burns. The redhead glared ferociously at Happousai, the old man breathing hard but still quite able, his aura of menace bright.

"You are pathetic! You don't deseve to be my student!" Happousai barked, "If you weren't too dangerous to be let loose, I'd expel you! But instead, I suppose I'll have to teach you some discipline!" Happousai raised a bomb in the air, and its fuse lit spontaneously.

Iori trembled in rage, and the fire that he constantly tended, the fire that raged forever within him, blazed to new heights. His eyes glazed and he started convulsing, and his entire body felt hot, as if his blood was literally boiling. He had to destroy that man. Destroy him. Destroy Kyo. Destroy everything. To kill them all. To annhilate-

*Boot* Happousai went sailing into the air, and his bomb exploded in a pretty fireworks display, knocking him out and blasting him further into the air.

Nodoka smirked up at the speck that was Happousai, satisfied that she had more or less avenged herself, no matter how badly she wanted to see that old sicko nuetered (both as revenge and protection against next time). Then, with a warm smile on her face, she gently approached the wounded man and put a hand on his forehead, before shifting his body and cradling his head on her lap.

She looked up at the other students, all of whom were looking at her and the man fearfully. "Well, what are you waiting for? Somebody get me some wet towels, he's injured!"

They looked at her as if she was mad. "Are you nuts? That guy's dangerous! Look at what he did to the school!"

Nodoka glared at the boy, then sniffed and turned back to her inspection of her patient. "He did all that DEFENDING us from that little pervert! Now get me those towels!" The boy winced at the annoyance in her voice, and decided it was probably best to do as she requested.



Iori's rational mind jolted back into place as the pyre of fury suddenly guttered to embers. The trembling stopped, and a peace, a calm he'd never before experienced descended upon him as he stared up into the warm, beautiful eyes of the woman that held him. The last thing he remembered before consciousness evaded him at last was the pure radiance of her wonderful smile.



Behind a nearby bush, one of the few pieces of foliage that wasn't severely blackened, Genma shook his head at the carnage. Come to think of it, it was really best he hadn't gotten involved. It was too bad though; that girl with the bokken was seriously cute.

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Iori snorted at his fellow students, and they winced at the gesture, looking almost ready to run away in fright. "So, you two cowards have finally worked up the nerve to do him in, huh? About time." Iori was actually slightly impressed. Very slightly. His estimation of their backbone might have risen more, except that they almost fled whenever he turned his hard eyes towards the two. Iori Yagami was the one who had stood up to the master, and that was something to be feared, in their eyes.

Iori would never admit it, especially to those two, but he had come to somewhat respect their abilities as martial artists. He had found that Genma was actually a halfway competent opponent in regular sparring, and tearing into the heavy-set man brought back fond memories of beating up Chang, one of Kapwam's companions. Their sparring with him had also brought up their own fighting abilities, more so than he had expected from two people as pathetic as they were.

Soun swallowed hard, and stepped up to the taller man. There was no reason to fear Iori; he was on their side. "Yes, well, we think that we can get him drunk, and then we were planning on sealing him in cave after he's unconscious. If you were to come along and help, it would save us the trouble of finding explosives."

Iori chuckled, and Soun sweated as Genma started to inch away. "Seal him in a cave? Why don't you just kill him, and be done with it?"

Soun and Genma froze, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Iori's chuckle turned into a short laugh. "Ha ha! Fine, I'll help. But after all that mummy's done to me, don't get in my way if I... lose my temper." He smiled maliciously.

Genma and Soun bigsweated, wondering if they had made a huge mistake.

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Iori stared impassively at the bottom of his dry sake cup, but did not motion for a refill. He never was much of a drinker. He had enough trouble with fights and bar brawls without actually impairing his judgement. For a wonder, his musings were not in anger, or even merely annoyance. Simply... contemplation.

The sealing of Happousai had gone just as planned. As Soun and Genma had planned. Even now, the two fools were almost drowning themselves in alcohol. Iori sincerely hoped they both would seek professional help now that their master was gone, or at the very least grow spines of some sort.

But still, as they were readying the boulder that would cover the sealed cave, Iori had looked down upon the sleeping lecher, and felt... irritation. He had kicked the old man around some, but felt absolutely no desire to do more. He had felt certain that after all the misery and humiliation he had gone through because of that little brat, he would have eviscerated him on the spot given such chance.

That was when it hit him; when was the last time he had thought about Kyo?

Kyo Kusanagi, his eternal rival, the man he would forever seek to defeat and kill, had been his reason for training, his reason for entering the tournaments, had practically been his reason for LIVING.

Kyo Kusanagi had been his reason for seeking Happousai's tutelage.

When was the last time he thought about his undefeated rival? He remembered clearly.

It was the day of his most destructive confrontation with Happousai. The day he had almost given in once more to the Orochi blood that raged through his veins.

The day he had met Nodoka.

Ever since then, his mind had always been divided between burning hatred at the ancient lecher, and amazed wonder at the woman who had so easily drawn him in, and seduced him. The woman who had married him a month previous. And ever since that VERY memorable day, when he shared with her the passion that he had refused to admit to himself, the passion that didn't involve tearing something to ribbons and burning it to ash, Happousai's consideration had dropped almost to zero.

'But then, she does tend to have that effect on a man,' he thought to himself, allowing a slight grin to crack his arctic features.

Still, that left a new question: what now?

"Well Yagami? Whaddya shay?" Soun's slur was obvious, and he had trouble concentrating on the man next to him. When had Iori invited all his twin brothers?

Iori was startled out of his thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Soun. "Well what?"

Genma shook his head, and nearly fell off the stool from the vertigo it caused. "We thou' tha' maybe we could, ya know, shoin the shkoolsh. Sho how 'bout it? Tendo'sh goh' five daugh'ersh-"

"Two, Shaotome, two... I think... wait... which number comesh afta' one? An' one more kid on the way beshidesh."

Genma shook his head, then remembered his earlier incident and stopped. "Two. Anywaysh, we wash thinkin', 'lesh get uh kidsh hitched', ya know? Tha' way, the shkoolsh wou' be shoined. Yoor wife'sh pregma-preaghna-preg- knocked up, aint' she?"

Iori turned away from them and considered it. If the child had a fraction of its parents' looks, he seriously doubted it would need an arranged marriage to find a good spouse or lover, but it couldn't hurt to have some prospects already in line. Besides, he had seen Kimiko, and he was fairly certain that any of her spawn would grow up to be worth a second look. He only thought it a minor waste that she couldn't find anyone better than Soun to marry.

Besides, even if he had hardly bothered with the few things the old lecher had taught him, the thought of joining the schools did hold some small appeal; he had to admit, he felt more comradery towards these two losers than any of the others he had fought beside in his lifetime.

"Yeah, sure, we can show 'em to each other and see what works out. But this isn't decisive, all right? The kid gets the final choice."

Soun and Genma each nodded happily, having missed everything after 'Yeah', and promptly fell off their stools, out cold.

Iori sighed, and paid their tabs for them before he left. He had to get home soon. Nodoka was still early in her pregnancy, and she didn't think that it yet affected the 'duties' of her 'manly husband'.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Iori lounged about the backyard as he watched little Ranma play around the yard, tackling invisible enemies and rolling around on the ground.

Ranma had been a very healthy baby boy, born only a month apart from Soun's youngest daughter, Akane. Kimiko, unfortunately, hadn't come out of the birth as well as Akane had, but he had lost contact with Soun long ago, so he didn't know the outcome.

His career as a musician was going rather well in his opinion. He had gained enough fame and money that several of his former opponents from the old tournaments had stopped by, wondering what had caused the infamous Iori to suddenly abandon his 'unquenchable bloodlust' for Kyo. He answered indifferently that he just didn't care about it anymore, and that he had moved on, a response which caused its fair share of raised eyebrows and suspicious looks. Many of them had challenged him to a match, perhaps thinking that he was out of practice. They usually left the interviews on a stretcher. As much as he hated to admit it, training under Happousai had done more for him than led him to Nodoka. And, murderous impulses or no, it still felt good to see Benimaru crumple up onto the ground like that. Ah, the memories!

Iori's attention moved back to his 4-year old son, who was now making wild clawing gestures in front of him in clumsy imitation of his father's own strikes.

The elder Yagami had started training Ranma a little on the side, but just couldn't find the time to train the boy seriously. Nodoka was always fussing over him, and insisting that he go out and make friends, especially among the little girls. While Iori had nothing against this in itself, it did cut into the time he would need to seriously train Ranma. That, among other things. Soon the boy would start school, and then he'd have even less time to train.

Iori shook his head. Why did he even need to train the boy? He felt it was important; after all, Ranma seemed to like it a lot, and Iori felt a need to pass on what he knew, both the legacy of the Yagami clan's martial arts style and the teachings of Anything-Goes. But serious training seemed both impossible and unnecessary. Besides, if Nodoka caught him putting Ranma through the same kind of training he had gone through, he'd be sleeping on the couch for weeks at a time!



His attention was momentarily diverted when he caught a flash of light, and the elder Yagami literally fell over in surprise as he witnessed little Ranma holding a purple spark in his hand in wonder.

That was impossible! The earliest that any of the Yagami clan had ever manifested the purple flame was a record set by himself, when he was 9! For Ranma to have attained it in less than half that time......

Suddenly, the last time he had talked to Genma came rushing back to him, and he cocked his head in thought.

'Yagami,' Genma had said, 'let me tell you, you are a lucky man. To have a wife like Nodoka, and a son... why, you know, if I had a son, I'd take him on a training voyage. That was always my dream, you know. To produce an heir that would surpass me, and perhaps someday even the master in the martial arts. You should take your son on a training voyage, just you and him. Can't take the wife. Women coddle their children, make them weak.' That was about when Iori had tuned the man out at the time. Genma having a son of his own seemed less and less likely as time wore on; the man had lost his hair already, and muscle was being replaced by fat as the aging martial artist let his training slack off.

He only considered a training voyage for a few seconds, though. That would mean sleeping alone with Ranma in a tent, which was certainly no better than staying home on the couch.

He turned back to his son, and noticed that Ranma was casting nervous glances between his father and the dark ember in his palm. After making eye contact with his father, Ranma's nerve apparently broke, and he tossed the fire away, afraid to hold onto it any longer.

Iori reevaluated his decision as a bush in the backyard caught, and was soon roaring in a purple blaze. If for nothing else, his training was necessary to make sure the boy could control his power. Nodoka would simply have to understand.

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Nodoka did understand. She understood perfectly. But that didn't mean she liked it, or was going to let it happen without a fight.

"No boy should be seperated from his mother at his age! You can't be serious!"

Iori shook his head. He had perfected cold, rock-hard stubborn. "He needs to learn. He's a danger to himself and those around him unless I have time to work with him. We're going in 2 days."

Nodoka fumed. True, her husband was simply stubborn most of the time, but she herself had perfected moving cold, hard rocks. Most of the time when they disagreed, Iori would state his side and stare at her, and she'd simply smile, tell her side, explain why she was right, then give him a kiss, say she was glad they had this talk, and leave everything settled just the way she wanted it. It usually took up to an hour before she even heard 'Wait a minute!'. But this was outrageous! It was messing up her calm, and she was now losing the battle against the immovable object.

"This is absolutely out of the question! Who will feed you two? How will you fend for yourselves? Ranma needs his schooling!"

Iori lowered his head slightly, and his red hair hid his stony eyes. "I've got enough to make sure we have food. I've fended for myself most of my life, and I can teach Ranma to do the same. I can get him into school occasionally, I'm sure, but his studies will suffer. It can't be helped."

She wanted to slap him! If she wasn't certain it would hurt her more than him (at least physically), she would have. He couldn't do this to her! "Then I'm coming with you! You can't leave me here without my son! I'll... I'll...!"

Iori's large hands gripped her arms, and Nodoka realized she could see his eyes again, searing into hers. "No. Please, you must stay here. This is as hard for me as it is for you, but it must be done. It's all for the best. You must stay."

Kami, how was he so hard? She wanted to struggle, but knew that it was no good in Iori's deceptively gentle grip. A gorilla couldn't have moved any more than she could. He had won. In final submission, she tore her gaze away from his eyes, and tears started making tracks across her unblemished face.

Under the wall of stone that was his face, Iori's icy will crumbled, and the large man gathered his wife into his arms, silently staring at the wall on the other side of the room as she sobbed gently into his shoulder.

Little Ranma sniffled nearby. He didn't understand all that was going on, but he knew that him and his father would be leaving soon, and that his mother wasn't coming. He grabbed onto her leg fiercly, adding his own tears to the collection that soaked her dress.

"Two years," she gasped, "two years, and then you come home. You WILL come home then. Promise me."

Iori pushed her away to look into her eyes, and nodded. "Two years. We may have to disembark again after that, but we shouldn't need to be away for more than a few months at a time." He offered a grin, that one, maniacal, malicious grin that always made opponents flinch but made Nodoka swoon. And she smiled back.

Down by the floor, little Ranma Yagami dried his tears as he saw his mother dry hers. Everything was going to be all right.

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Iori had left no later than he had said, and had leapt right into Ranma's training.

Unfortunately, he had hit a little bit of a roadblock there: he had never taught before, and didn't really have any idea how to do it. He had mostly taught himself over his years obsessing over Kyo's defeat at his hands, and he had been old enough to use methods that he would never use on someone Ranma's age. His only real sensei had been Happousai, and he'd sooner return to his home and let the boy burn down all of Tokyo before he put his son through THAT humiliation.

Nodoka had always jokingly said he was inept at parenting, though Iori had often suspected that she was telling the truth. It only came to reason that he was equally inept at teaching.

And so the training began. Iori figured that the logical thing was to train him the same way he himself had trained, only at a lesser degree. Split boards instead of boulders. Climb walls instead of mountains; that sort of thing.

The problem was, Ranma didn't take to it as Iori had, not having the same focus, or for that matter, any kind of real goal to strive for. And thus came the whining and crying. Iori had expected it-the training was rough and the boy wasn't used to it-but he was still at a loss as for how to deal with it, so he simply learned to ignore it.

He wasn't sure what had prompted his response one day as a 5-year old Ranma fell down on the ground bawling, clutching the rib bruised by his father's own hand, and asked, sobbing, why he had to do this. Why he had to go through this.

Iori hadn't answered him before, and wasn't about to answer him then, but for some reason, a response floated to the forefront of his mind, and he spoke.

"You train so you can be a better man than I am." Ranma had stopped crying and looked up at him in wonder, not having expected any kind of answer at all.

Iori went on, staring at his fist, speckled with the blood of his own son. "I trained when I was nearly twice your age. I learned for a purpose. Do destroy. To kill. All of the hardship, all of the misery. To kill one man. And today, he still lives, and knows me only as the man who could never defeat him, that had no other reason to live but to try." It was all true, he realized. Most of his life had been a complete waste, smoldering in anger and hate at a man he hardly knew. If he hadn't met Nodoka by pure chance.........

"You're not learning so you can kill someone. Your learning to keep something alive. Something that's a part of you..." Iori clenched and unclenched his fist, his child's blood running into the lines of his palm. "As well as keep another part of you as dead as possible. That's enough for today." Iori walked away and started making dinner. Ranma stood up and walked, zombie-like, to the tent they shared.

Ranma never complained again.

He cried often enough at the pain of his efforts, but they were silent tears, not the gasping bawls of normal children. Iori let him cry. Tears were how you knew you were working hard enough.

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Missile after purple missile rocketed from Ranma's hands as he concentrated on keeping up his barrage. Part of containing his powers was making sure that his energy stores didn't grow faster than the rate that he learned to safely channel that energy. Which wouldn't have been a problem if his father had taught him his 'One for the Road' blast, but that was the easy way out, a way of launching more energy than one could normally use at once.

The field in front of him was a charred wasteland, pockmarked by glowing purple embers. The energy blasts he had thrown hit their targets, reducing a rock, an old tire, and a mass of steel cable into so much ash and molten material.

Ranma hadn't noticed his father's approach; not that Iori took any stock in stealth, or even tried to hide his movements, Ranma was simply too exhausted from his efforts to really notice until a massive hand encompassed his shoulder.

Iori nodded at Ranma's display. The boy was indeed very powerful. There was no question that he learned at a faster rate than Iori had, and though he didn't possess the seemingly inborn strength that he had at 6 years, the strength that shaped the brutality of the Yagami style of martial arts, he was well on his way to earning that level of strength naturally.

The boy's training was finally on-track completely, meaning that the second, somewhat less important phase of his training was about to begin.

"Ranma, I think it's time you went to school."

Ranma blinked.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Now this just wasn't fair.

"This school is known for its high tolerance for violence, but-"

They had attacked him, and he had defended himself. What was the problem here?

"-this level of brutality is totally unnacceptable if we are to-"

Sure, it had gotten a little intense, and he had attacked the ones that were trying to run away...

"-maintain ANY level of discipline in our school. The image of several of our students being-"

But he had to make an impression so that no more of the morons would do something as stupid as try to take his lunch money. It was for their own good!

"-carted away on stretchers is hardly the kind of picture we want to present to-"

*Briiiiiiiiiiiiiing!!* Lunch bell!

"-parents concerned about their children's welfare at an educational facility that is famous for duels and such. Now, from now on I expect you to conduct yourself in an appropriate manner, and......... Mr. Yagami? We're not through yet! Where'd that boy go?"



Ranma sped down the halls at top speed, hoping against hope that his incredible running power would make up for the extra distance between the cafeteria and the principal's office. It did, if not barely.

"Last chow mein bread! Come and get it!" The lunch lady threw the plastic- wrapped package up in the air, and a dozen hands reached up, only to grasp at air. In the end, a lone shout of victory marked the ownership of the bread by the the one who always reached the cafeteria last: Ryoga 'unanimously voted to be the most likely person to manage to get lost on his way to his own funeral' Hibiki.

Jumping above the heads of his disappointed classmates, Ryoga reached for his prize.

*Moosh* Only to get a slipper in the face that sent him tumbling down into the tile floor.

The other students gasped in surprise as the Hibiki boy landed on the floor face first, and another boy, one with jet black hair tied into a small pigtail, landed in an empty space on the cafeteria floor, chow mein bread in his mouth.

Ryoga stood up slowly, and with a look of smoldering fury, gazed upon the one who had tread upon him so casually. The fool would live to regret it!

"Hey! That's my bread!" Ryoga snarled at the other boy, baring his pointed fangs menacingly. To his astonishment, the jerk didn't flinch back in fear. He actually looked amused!

Ranma smiled, then spit out the plastic-wrapped bread and stared at it. "Funny... 'cause unless your name is 'Kimemake Baking Company', then I don't see your name on it." Ranma smirked at the other boy, then popped the food out of its wrapper, and swallowed it in one gulp. He almost rolled his eyes as he FELT the tension of the crowd of spectators rise.

A vein popped out on Ryoga's head, and he pointed a finger at the cretin that had dared to cross him. "My name is Ryoga Hibiki! Who're you?"

Ranma smiled. "Ranma Yagami. Nice ta' meetcha."

Ryoga growled again. "Ranma Yagami... for the insult of the chow mein bread, I won't forgive you! Meet me today in the yard behind the school after class, and I'll show you the error of your ways!"



Ryoga stalked off, and Ranma glanced after him wonderingly.

He tapped a passing student on the shoulder. "Hey, what's his problem?"

The student blinked, then shrugged. "Hibiki? Well...... he's got... issues......"

"Hibiki! That's an emergency exit! Your classroom is through the left exit! No! That's the kitchen! Left! Left! YOUR OTHER LEFT!!!" The lunchlady continued shouting at the directionally challenged boy, certain that her efforts were in vain but finding the will to try anyway.

Ranma sweatdropped.



Ranma just couldn't take it anymore. So far he'd been waiting in the schoolyard for half an hour, and that dolt Ryoga hadn't shown up! That guy couldn't actually be a wimp after all that arrogant bravado he'd shown in the lunch room, could he?

Deciding that he was sick of waiting, he chose a random student and jumped out of the tree right in front of him, earning him a startled yelp.

He paid the boy's surprise no mind, and got right to the point. "Do you know where Ryoga Hibiki is?"

The boy blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. I was cleaning the desks in my classroom, and I saw him wandering around in the front yard."

Ranma stared. "The front yard?! He said the fight was in the back yard!"

The student shrugged. "Hibiki has a problem with directions. Personally, I'm surprised he's still on the school grounds." The student walked away, unconcerned with the outcome of yet another martial arts duel.

Ranma shook his head. It was simply front yard vs. back yard. There was no way Ryoga could possibly be so dumb...

But still, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to look. With that thought, Ranma bounded onto the roof.



Ryoga stopped in front of the street, realizing, for a wonder, that it wasn't the proper direction. Nodding to himself, he turned to the left, came to a large birch tree, then took another left and walked over to some bushes, another left to bring him to the flagpole, and another before he realized he was looking at the street again. Panicking slightly, Ryoga tried to think it out, someting that he really wasn't very good at.

'Let's see... I know that there's a swing set near the back... so all I have to find is the swing set!'

Ryoga looked left, then right. "What?! I don't see any swings!"

Regaining his composure, Ryoga tried to calm down. 'Okay, no swings. But I haven't crossed the street yet, so I just have to walk around the school building until I find the swings!'

Ryoga nodded to himself, then looked up. And left. And right. "Hey! Where'd the move the school?!" He conveniently forgot to look behind him.

Panicking anew, Ryoga latched onto the nearby birch tree, and start walking, always keeping his left hand on the trunk. He made three counter- clockwise rotations before he realized that the school building was in his line of sight.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked at the tree and blinked. "OH NO!!! I recognize this tree!!" He clutched his head in terror, "I'm right back where I started!!"

*Thud*

Ryoga's attention was drawn away from his current predicament by the sound of someone attempting a three-story facefault.

He snarled when he realized it was his accursed enemy, and took a step forward.

Ranma peeled his face off the ground and stared at Ryoga. "Please tell me you're not really this stupid and you're just rehearsing a school play or something."

Ryoga blinked. Twice. "Huh?"

Ranma shook his head. "Never mind. You just answered my question."

Ryoga ignored the jibe. He didn't get it anyway. "Yagami, you've managed to evade me thus far, but this is where it ends! Now I will crush you! HYAH!!" Ryoga charged. Ranma raised an eyebrow, then swept his arm forward.

"Yami Barai!" Ryoga tried to stop in time, but was struck by the low-level fireball, and grunted as the flames quickly swept over him and dispersed.

Ranma didn't expect such a quick recovery, however, and was subjected to an angry fist to the jaw that sent him reeling backwards.

Ryoga grinned. He had no idea how his enemy had pulled that fancy trick with the colored fire, but apparently the nitwit thought that it would be enough to take him out.

The young lost boy was surprised when his opponent didn't fall down from his blow, and quite shocked when Ranma actually chuckled. He hit harder than most adults! How could this kid have taken his blow and laugh it off?!

Ranma grinned at his opponent. "Well now, maybe you're not a totally worthless opponent. That's nice to know, I was beginning to get bored by the 'competition' offered around here." Ranma attacked.

Ryoga certainly had an edge when it came to sheer strength, but that meant nothing in this fight. His defense was practically nonexistant, so Ranma tore into the lost boy with a multitude of blows, batting away any counterattacks with his fists.

Ranma landed an uppercut to Ryoga's jaw, and the other boy staggered backwards. Ranma rushed forward, grabbed his foe, then threw him over his shoulder, and the lost boy skidded into the base of the birch tree and, consequently, into unconsciousness.

Ranma shook his head. "Feh. Good strength. Reasonable offense. Lame speed. Pathetic defense. He's obviously learned to take blows rather than avoid them." His evaluation Ryoga's skills complete, he walked back into the school building. After obtaining Ryoga's home address, Ranma stepped back out, pulled the lost boy onto his back in a fireman's carry, and started walking.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Ranma faced his father nervously, fidgeting with his fingers and unable to face or read Iori's expressionless gaze.

"So, your first day at school."

He didn't see how any of this was his fault! Why should he be punished?

"You get into a big fight with 6 other kids at once..."

They had it coming!

"Sent 5 of them to the hospital..."

Well yeah, but he already admitted that he had been a tad excessive there...

"Got sent to the Principal's office, and then simply left for lunch..."

What? They expected him to stand there and listen to the Principal drone on about bad behavior instead of eat?!

"Then you beat up this Hibiki kid in a duel..."

He started it!

"And dragged him to his house afterwards, since he wasn't awake to walk home himself."

He was TRYING to be nice! Besides, if what he saw in the yard was any indication, Ryoga probably would have found his way back to the school by tommorrow morning before he'd find his own house!

Ranma flinched at Iori's touch, then realized that the elder Yagami was ruffling his hair, a fatherly gesture that was indeed rare in their family.

Ranma looked up to see his father grinning fiercly.

"That's my boy!"

Ranma positively beamed.

Iori's grin didn't fade. "Keep 'em on their toes, Ranma. And if the Principal gives you too much trouble, try and set up a parent/teacher conference." Iori cracked the knuckles of his free hand to emphasize that it would be a SHORT meeting.

Ranma nodded happily.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



The days went by fast for Ranma, and he quickly adapted to a routine of sorts.

He was right about Ryoga's abilities to get to and from school, so every morning he'd go over to Ryoga's house to tease him about it, and let the mentally unbalanced boy chase him all the way to his classroom, where Ranma would beat him down and then dump him in his seat.

At lunch, Ranma would be the first to get his bread, and then, because he was a growing boy, and really hungry, grab the last piece of bread too, right before Ryoga could get it, leading to a fast-growing list of food- related offenses that Ryoga swore he would never forget.

Ranma wondered how he could remember all of that when he couldn't remember which way to take to get to the bathroom.

After school, Ranma would kick Ryoga on his way out, and let the lost boy follow him in a rage all the way back to the Hibiki household, a darkened footprint marring his fanged face. There Ranma would beat him up again, and then dump him inside through a window before heading home to his campsite.

Ranma would then train with his father, or if Iori was busy with something, he'd go out on his own. Many of the local street gangs were of the opinion that 6-year olds couldn't take on teenagers with crowbars, and Ranma felt a necessary urge to put the fear of the small & cute in them.



Then, one day, it all looked like it was coming to an end.



"Ranma, we're gonna be leaving soon." Iori was busy roasting a chicken under his campfire, and Ranma jerked up from where he had been drooling at the sizzling juices.

"Leaving? Why?"

Iori didn't look up. "The two years is almost up. It'll be nice to see your mother again."

Ranma gave a start at that, and a slow smile started to break out on his face. He would be going home.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



"What? He's leaving?!" The student who was being held up in the air by a miniature arm gulped and nodded.

"A-At least th-that's what I heard. Yagami's going home in a few days." The boy was unceremoniously dropped onto the floor, and stared up in horror as a thin green outline encompassed the fanged lost boy.

"How dare he... after all he's done to me... HE THINKS HE CAN JUST LEAVE WITHOUT HIS PROPER PUNISHMENT?!?!?!"

Ryoga sped away from the classroom that he had ended up in front of trying to find his 3rd period class, and immediately went in search of his irritating rival. That he didn't know what class Ranma was in was neither a help nor hindrance.

Eventually the end of school came, and Ryoga finally found his rival, albeit by accident.

"RANMA!!! AT LAST I'VE FOUND YOU!!! YOU'LL PAY FOR TRYING TO HIDE FROM ME!!!!"

Ranma dodged the haymaker, then snap kicked the lost boy into the opposite wall.

"Hide nothing. I've been looking for YOU, nimrod."

Ryoga glared at him ferociously. Ranma didn't even bother to treat him like a real enemy any more! Well, he'd learn the error of his ways!

"Ranma! I challenge you! In the empty lot behind my house! Tommorrow we're going to settle the score once and for all!"

Ranma stared at him for a moment, then nodded, leaping out of the window and onto the ground below.

Ryoga chuckled darkly in delight. It would surely be a fight to remember!

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



First day:

Ranma looked around, annoyed, his father squatting on the ground behind him.

Iori shook his head. "I think he stood you up. It's almost dusk."

Ranma stood staring at the house in front of him, then got up and ran towards it.



Ranma ran back, shaking his head. "He's not at home. He's gotta be lost. That's it. He gets lost real easily."

Iori stared at him. "He got lost on the way to the lot behind his own house?"

Ranma nodded absently, and a sweatdrop formed on Iori's head.



Second day:

Iori was glad his son was taking this seriously. He really was. A martial arts challenge was a serious thing, and this Ryoga must've been a real jerk to have toyed with Ranma like this. But still, the kid was 2 days late!

"He's not showing up Ranma, and we're wasting time. We should go now."

Ranma glared at the house across the lot furiously. "He IS coming! That idiot just got lost! He'll be here! I know it!"

Iori thought about just telling him to pack up and get ready to leave, but relented. If his son wanted to play the part of the fool, then he would let this little naievete run its course.



Third day:

Okay, enough was enough.

"Ranma, I appreciate your determination, but he's NOT GONNA SHOW. He's probably at his school right now, laughing his head off because a couple of his friends told him you're still here waiting."

Ranma clenched his fists and settled them on the ground, seething quietly.

Then his head shot up. "No! Ryoga's an idiot and a jerk, but he's too much of an idiot to have set me up, and he's too much of a jerk to have calmed down and forgotten about it!"

Iori stared at him expressionlessly, his hands jammed in his pockets.

Ranma tore his eyes away. "One more day. Just one more day. Please."

Iori stared some more, then shrugged and walked away. He had to mail the postcard to Nodoka anyway, to tell her they were coming home. Let the boy make a fool of himself.



Fourth day:

"Well, didn't I tell you?" Iori stared at his son with his arms crossed, tapping his foot.

Ranma stared at the ground restlessly. "Yeah. I know. I just... I just can't believe he never showed up."

Iori nodded. "Well now you know better. People don't disappear for 4 days after a challenge because they got lost. Nobody's that stupid."

Ranma nodded his head sullenly, and started to walk towards his father.



"YAGAMI!!! At last I've found you!!" Ranma's face lit up, and Iori turned to face the sudden voice.

Iori didn't facefault often, but now was simply one of those times. A boy around Ranma's age with fangs and wearing a little travel-worn gi was standing at the edge of the lot, hand on his knees, and gasping for breath.

Ranma's happy expression quickly shifted into a glare. "What kept you? You had me waiting for 4 days, you moron!"

Ryoga's glare contained a hundredfold any meager amount of anger Ranma held against the lost boy. "SHUT UP!!! You have no idea the hell I've been through trying to make it here as quickly as I did!! Do you have any idea how hard it is asking directions when everyone around you talks by clicking their tongues?!?! And that was just the first day!!"

Iori, who had just gotten up, found his face back in the dirt.

Ranma stared at Ryoga in disgust. "Geez... you can't fight me now! Look at you! I could probably knock you out by breathing on you!"

Ryoga saw red, and charged. "Never! I've finally found you! And now I will break you!!"

Ranma's eyes narrowed, and he hopped back, then rushed forward in his own charge. This surprised Ryoga, as he didn't see how Ranma's supior skill and abilities could compensate for Ryoga's edge in strength in such a straighforward attack.

He found out though, as Ranma angled himself to stay out of Ryoga's grip, then backhanded the lost boy across the face with his left hand, and grabbed his opponent's face with his right.

Slamming Ryoga's head into the ground roughly, Ranma allowed himself a slight smile before the ground beneath Ryoga erupted in tiny explosions of purple, blasting Ryoga all over and leaving him the centerpiece of a large black spot on the Earth.

Ranma stood up and dusted off his hands. "One hit. What a waste of time. You're right Pop, we should have left yesterday, at the latest." Shrugging his hands in his pockets, Ranma walked away to pack up his tent.

Iori continued staring at the scene, trying to make sense of things. Eventually, he settled on wondering about the one thing he could readily grasp.

"When did the boy learn the Dark Crescent Moon Slice?" So, with that thought foremost in his mind, he wandered off behind his son, leaving Ryoga still laying in his smoking crater.



Ryoga couldn't move his head to watch all of this, but he wasn't in too much pain to hear.

'Damn you Yagami! I'll never forgive you for this humiliation! Even if it takes me all my life, I swear I will crush you!' It was about at that point when consciousness left him.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



The reunion with his mother went as expected. Nodoka positively gushed as she exclaimed how much Ranma had grown, and the little boy had endured the fussing in fits of joyous laughter.

It was fairly late when they had reached the Yagami household, and Nodoka had a veritable feast all lined up for the two most important men in her life.

As Ranma ravaged the dinner table, Nodoka idly asked about his training.

Ranma stopped eating, and considered his answer. Iori had warned him about this question, and how telling her the full extent of the answer could lead her to stopping his training. He couldn't, and wouldn't let that happen though. He had so much to do, so much training to go through before he could even hold a candle to his father, that he couldn't afford to let anything come between him and his training.

So he merely told her about some of the weaker exercises. Swimming across lakes, without telling her about swimming up the raging rivers full of jagged rock. Breaking and blasting apart large objects, without telling her how they were hurled at him relentlessly. Simple dodging and endurance practice, without going into details about how it involved a game called 'Chicken' and a major freeway.

He was certain that he had put it all in the best possible light, but when he looked back at his parents, his mother was staring at his father with a look as stony as any face Iori had ever put on. Ranma had always wondered why Nodoka always carried around her katana, found himself wondering just that right then, and wished he could stop.

"Ranma, I would like to speak to your father, please. In private." Ranma gulped. Her voice held even less emotion than her face.

Ranma nodded quickly and walked upstairs, only feeling slightly guilty at the 'you traitor' glare that his father shot him.



He was worried when he got up for breakfast the next morning. There had been an AWFUL lot of noise last night, and he worried at what kind of conflict his parents had gotten into.

Looking into the kitchen, though, Nodoka looked even happier than she was when she first saw them again, and was cooking breakfast with a cheer that made his fondest memories of her seem depressing.

On the other hand, his father looked half-dead with exhaustion, yet showed no bruises or injury of any kind, and even had sort of a slight smile on his sleepy face.

Ranma didn't wonder about it for long though. So long as everything was all right, there was no reason for him to worry.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Two weeks passed, and Iori had convinced Nodoka that Ranma should continue his training. Ranma took every opportunity to express enthusiasm over this, which seemed to cheer up his mother whenever she looked at him wistfully. 3 months was agreed to, and Iori and 6-year old Ranma left once again.

But not before a goodbye the night before that caused so much bumping around that little Ranma had his pillow wrapped over his head trying to block out the noise. What were they DOING up there?!

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Iori almost smiled as he watched Ranma run circles around little Ukyo Kuonji, making faces and taunting the spatula wielding little girl. They had been like that for all of the two months since he and Ranma had left home, and Iori was only mildly disappointed that the boys training had been slacking a little bit due to his new friend.

Iori shook his head at Akira, then took another bite of okinomiyaki and swallowed before replying.

"I agree they get along, but Ranma's already got some possible wives lined up for him. I'm not going to arrange anything permanent."

Akira raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you'd change my mind if I offered my okinomiyaki cart as a dowry, would you?"

Iori simply shook his head, and watched as a steamed Ukyo chased Ranma up a tree, trying to swat him with her oversized training spatula.

Akira sighed, and handed Iori a can of juice to wash down the okinomiyaki. Iori accepted with a nod, and started filing through some mail he had recieved at his temporary address.

Akira blinked as the tree went up in purple flame, and Ukyo squeaked and scrambled away in fright. Ranma laughed, leapt onto the ground, and then stuck out his tongue at his best friend before dashing away before a barrage of clumsily hurled throwing spatulas.

Akira turned back to Iori just in time to be met head-on with a jet of fruit juice.

*Pthoo* Iori didn't seem to notice who he had struck with the blast, his eyes locked onto the simple postcard he was reading.

Juice dripped off of Akira's chin. "Something wrong Yagami?" He asked dryly.

Iori started stuttering, something very out of character for him.

"No-No-Nodo...... Nodoka's pregnant!"

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



"What?! You can't leave!! You can't!!" Ukyo glomped onto her best friend fiercely, unable to face the possiblity that she might not see him again.

"Uc-Ucchan... c-c-can't... breathe..." Ranma choked out.

Ukyo let go of him, and her best friend collapsed onto the ground. "But why?!"

Ranma shook his head in an effort to clear it as he got up. "My mom's gonna have a baby. Pop thinks we need to be there." He shrugged. "I'm really gonna miss you, Ucchan."

"Of course you'll miss me, you jerk!" Ukyo shouted through her tears. Managing to calm down somewhat, Ukyo grasped Ranma's hands in hers.

Ranma stared in wonder at that. His hands, that could crack rock, his hands, that could send whatever they touched into a purple blaze, she held without any hesitation or fear. He was her friend, would never hurt her, and Ukyo knew it.

"Promise me Ranchan," she said seriously, staring into his eyes, "promise me that we'll be friends... and... and more! Forever!"

Ranma could see that this was important to her for some reason, so he nodded solemnly. "Friends and more. Forever. I promise."

Ucchan gave him a last crushing hug, the tears falling freely from her hazel eyes.



Iori nodded to himself as Ranma ran up to him, wearing his little backpack, stuffed to overflowing.

"Did you say goodbye to Ukyo?"

Ranma nodded. "Yeah. I'm really gonna miss him."

Iori gave a start, then looked at Ranma. Ranma didn't seem to notice his father's surprise, and kept moving forward, eyes unfocused as he walked.

"He was my best friend. We did everything together. And he didn't get angry all the time like Ryoga."

Iori blinked. The pronoun was unmistakable. Ranma apparently had never realized that Ukyo was a girl.

Ranma finally noticed that his father had stopped, and looked back. "Something wrong Pop?"

Iori stared for a moment, then shook his head in the negative and started forward. No need to confuse the boy. Chances were he'd never see Ukyo again anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



They made it back quickly, much to Nodoka's relief, and before Ranma's 7th birthday, a tiny baby girl was born, more than a month and a half early. She was healthy though, and Ranma soon had a brand-new baby sister named Yurumi (named after a combination of some of the more annoying female opponents Iori had faced in his tournament years). She had fiery red hair like her father, and soon filled out after she was taken home.

Ranma looked upon the whole thing with wonder, but redoubled his training efforts alongside school to make sure that he didn't get rusty.

He had taken to the elder brother role very well, and once Yurumi was old enough to crawl, he often entertained her by juggling purple fireballs. It often amazed Iori how undisturbed Nodoka was when presented with his clan's abilities. Throughout most of his life, those around him had treated him like a monster (which he was, at times). Of course, they had had more reason than the Yagami's purple flames to do so, but it still struck him as odd that Nodoka had never even questioned him about it, and felt all right with her son handling what was obviously a very dangerous power so casually.

Then Iori had noticed that Ranma seemed to be getting restless. He was now nine years old, and his power was still rising, but he didn't have enough outlets for that power. The boy had taken to sneaking out at night, and the next morning there was alway talk about an abandoned building that had been wrecked and burned or a part of a scrap yard that had been found in ashes with former car frames smashed apart and such. Ranma would calmly admit the 'crime' when questioned, and simply reason that he wasn't hurting anybody or destroying anything important.

This was good enough for Iori, but the elder Yagami started to wonder if he should fully take up Ranma's training again. Ranma had never learned more than the basics of the Yagami style martial arts, and Iori hadn't even bothered with the basics of Anything-Goes.

The decision was made when Ranma actually came up to him and asked to depart on a training trip, his eyes burning with a hot determination that Iori hadn't remembered seeing before.

Nodoka didn't put up much of a fight, and mostly tried to prevent any notion that he might take Yurumi along. He had to laugh at that. He couldn't even begin to imagine training a girl, much less his own daughter. Girls had different needs than boys, and she would mostly slow down Ranma's progress anyway.



That night, Ranma's 10th birthday, and the night before they left, he handed Ranma a folded package.

Ranma looked up at his father and blinked. "Uh... thanks. What is it?" His father didn't reply, and only smiled in that terrifying manner of his.

Nodoka looked on in interest, and Yurumi watched with shining curiosity, squirming on her mother's lap.

Ranma shrugged and tore the thin wrapping, and held up a large black jacket. One with a crescent moon emblem on the back.

"Wow! Man, thanks Pop!" Ranma shouted in joy, and then draped it over himself.

Nodoka giggled. "Dear, it fits him like a blanket."

Iori chuckled. It sounded dark, but those that knew him best could tell it held real mirth. "He'll grow into it. That material WILL last." He gestured to his own jacket, the one with the exact same symbol on its back. Nodoka didn't mention that the one he had gotten Ranma was a little bit bigger than the one he himself wore; it wasn't important anyway.

She smiled at her son as he tried to walk around in it. It came all the way down to his ankles, and his fists were totally concealed within the sleeves. Ranma was growing up to be such a strong and handsome young man. In her mind, she had already envisioned a muscular, bare-chested Ranma standing tall while masses of beautiful young women swooned at his feet, offering their bodies to him without hesitation.

Iori saw Nodoka get that wet, glassy look in her eyes, and realized that if he wanted to get ANY sleep that night, they'd all have to go to bed NOW.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



And so it went.

Ranma and Iori trained unceasingly, and the elder Yagami struggled constantly to push his son to his limits and beyond.

Ranma had adapted very well to the Yagami family style, though Iori was surprised that when he introduced Anything-Goes into their normal exercises, Ranma took to it better than most fish take to water.

After some quick contemplation, it made sense. Anything-Goes was pretty much based on adaptability, which was one of Ranma's primary talents. Also, it preached speed and strategy, which the boy also excelled at. The Yagami style was nothing to scoff at; it was a deceptively simple style based on relentless, brutal offense and unyielding, rock-hard defense. Ranma had been learning that since he started his training, and was very, very good at it, but as Iori tracked Ranma's progress, he couldn't help but wonder if he was integrating Anything-Goes into the Yagami style, or the other way around.



Every other month or so, Iori would return home with his son to visit Nodoka and check up on Yurumi. They'd stay for perhaps a month, which Iori deemed enough time for Nodoka to bother him sufficiently about his manners and his studies, but not enough time for it to sink in enough for him to remember once they left again. Iori was raising a fighter, not an aristocratic scholar, and he knew that things would only go his way outside of Nodoka's loving realm of influence. By the time Ranma had turned 15, Iori had plain run out of ideas. He had already subjected Ranma to the full range of training techniques he had undergone as an adult out for Kusanagi's blood, and the boy had gotten up and asked for more.

Iori understandably refused to put his son through any training he himself wouldn't have gone through; that was why he had burnt the booklet containing that silly cat-fist nonsense. So he started bringing Ranma to training grounds across Japan. There were all sort of weird areas with rather extreme methods to build one's skills: A construction site with I- beams sticking out of the ground to hit and jump on, a group of thin wooden poles above a patch of steel needles, and mountain paths with regular rock and mud slides. They had even stopped by that stupid island where swordsmen were said to train and spent days blowing up swarms of watermelons.

It wasn't enough for Ranma, however, who had taken to the training with a feverish determination, and always came through wanting to hurry on to the next site. A few times the boy had even suggested himself that they skip going back home and keep training.

Recently, Ranma had come upon a guide book of training areas in China, and it was all Iori could do to keep Ranma from running off by himself before he could get the boy back home.



"China? Are you sure?" Nodoka looked at her son worriedly as he showed off for his little sister. He had grown into the jacket Iori had bought him somewhat, but it was still too big for him; his fingers stuck out of the ends of the sleeves up to the knuckles, and he could almost hide his head whenever he hiked it up onto his back. He never took it off though, except to sleep and bathe. Like his father.

Iori shrugged. "It's his idea. I don't really get it. I was never this eager when I was in training." That wasn't completely true, but then, Iori had had an advantage over Ranma in that he had a focus, something to strive for above all else. He was at a loss over what drove the boy.

"He might not understand. Going to a foreign country just isn't the same as wandering about Japan. How long will you be away?" She realized that this implied her permission for them to go, but she doubted she could have really stopped them. Her husband she held almost complete power over, but she hadn't found anything yet that she could deny her son if he really wanted it.

Iori sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Probably a year at least. Not more than a year and a half." Occasional flashes of purple indicated when Ranma fed his flames into his attacks. Ranma had started feeding his powers into his normal attacks more and more often instead of concentrating them into a single explosion, or tossing out projectiles. Iori didn't really like it; it reminded him of Kyo's attacks too much, and of the life he was now disgusted to have lived.

"A year. I'll miss Ranma's 16th birthday." She watched forlornly as Ranma kicked upward behind him, trailing purple fire from his boot. Besides the jacket, Ranma usually wore black sweatpants or dark slacks, as well as a pair of heavy boots. Under his jacket he merely wore a white tank top.

Nodoka sighed herself, then turned toward Iori. "You may leave tommorrow."

Iori nodded silently, and was about to leave, when Nodoka suddenly stopped him with a word.

"But-!"

Iori jerked to a halt, and turned around.

"But... I have one condition." Nodoka turned around, and regarded the man she loved with all the serenity and firmness of a queen addressing her assembly. "By the time Ranma comes back home, he must have a girlfriend!"

As mentioned before, Iori didn't usually facefault. He felt a pang of nostalgia as his head was reacquainted with the ground, and he idly wondered whatever became of that Hibiki kid.

Confident that she had gotten her point across, Nodoka left the room to prepare dinner.



"Bye-bye Rammie!" Yurumi waved to her older brother as he boarded the train after his father.

Ranma waved back, and the 8-year old girl giggled and clutched the bag of sweets Ranma had bought her before they reached the train station.

Nodoka dabbed at a stray tear as the train departed for the harbor, and started daydreaming about the meeting Ranma again a year from now, when he was 16, and (in her estimation) a man! And then, in just a few years afterwards: Grandchildren!

Yurumi munched on her candy contentedly as she watched her mother go starry-eyed and lose contact with the real world. It happened often enough that it no longer alarmed her, and she patiently sat down and waited for the next train, which would hopefully generate enough noise to wake up Nodoka.

___________________________________________________________________________ _______



Iori took in the sights of the towering mountains around him as he, his son, and their guide trekked through the valley. The Guide was a pudgy, short man, who talked in broken Japanese and wore a green army uniform. Iori ignored him mostly, but they had relied on such people throughout their stay in China. Iori had learned enough Chinese to get food and a place to sleep, but couldn't read a single symbol of their dialect.

Ranma was now 16, and had kept growing appropriately. He had acquired his father's body structure, thin with hard, lean muscle, though he wasn't as broad in the shoulders as his father. The boy listened and looked about constantly, and Iori could tell from experience that while he looked at everything, he was mentally evaluating whether it was worth the trouble of attacking. Tearing and beating solid beams of steel had become a recent hobby with him, in an effort to finally attain his father's monstrous strength. And the way he was going, that wouldn't take very long, in Iori's opinion.



"Here sirs, we come to ancient training ground Jusenkyou, Valley of Cursed Springs! Is very old and ancient place, sirs!"

Iori looked at the field in disgust. Just a bunch of pools of water with bamboo poles sticking out of them. Balance practice. Not his thing. Ranma, on the other hand, highly valued his agility, and could benefit greatly from jumping around on poles that couldn't possibly support his weight.

Ranma hadn't been given any kind of signal or instruction from his father, so he turned towards the guide.

"You said these grounds were cursed. Whaddya mean?"

The Guide shook his head. "No one train here no more. Ancient curse very bad. Any who fall in spring take body of thing that last drown there!"

Iori blinked and turned toward the Chinese man. "No kidding? Like what?"

The Guide pointed to a spring. "Spring of Drowned Slug." Then another spring. "Spring of Drowned Earthworm." And finally, a little spring off to the side slightly. "Spring of Irritatingly Uber-Cute Young Girl with Psychic Powers."

Iori blinked again. "Oh. So that's what happened to Athena. Stay away from that spring, boy."

"Right," Ranma replyed dryly.

Iori gave him a look. "Well? Start hopping around the place."

Ranma gave a start. "But... the curse..."

Iori grinned. "Well then, you'd better not fall in, huh?"

Ranma's eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded and jumped onto the nearest pole, immediately rebounding off of it to alight on another pole.



The Guide watched in respectful horror. "Oh, sir, you sure that wise? There many spring you no want your son to fall!"

Iori nodded. "Ranma's good at what he does. He'll be all right."

The Guide frowned worriedly, but accepted the decision and entered his hut.

Iori looked about a bit, and then heard a slight crashing noise coming from behind a wall of trees to his left. Content that Ranma could do a few laps without him, the elder Yagami entered the forest to investigate.



He soon found the source of the crashing noises, in the center of a clearing in the woods, which was dominated by a single huge tree that stuck out far above the forest canopy. Tied to two different branches hung a boulder and a young woman of about 18, who was hanging upside-down, and was obviously unconscious. One of her arms was tied behind her back, leaving the other arm free, but with a cloth tied around the fist that had a hole in it only for the index finger.

For someone who knew about the Bakusai Tenketsu, the reason for the cloth and rope was obvious, and the exercise seemed centered around learning to shatter rock with a single touch.

To someone who had no clue why they restricted all but a single finger, and saw only a boulder that repeatedly smashed against the trainee, the technique's secondary, and more useful application was equally obvious, and all Iori saw was endurace training, though the whole thing with her finger seemed to hint at something else.

There was a small crowd of other girls on the ground off to the side, watching the proceedings with a queasy mix of sickening horror, submission to the inevitable, and a spattering of eager anticipation.

Iori was far more interested in the training though, and watched as the girl who was knocked out was gently let down, and another was tied up and then hoisted several meters above the ground.

A girl in another nearby tree hauled her rope back, which pulled the boulder out of the perpendicular position, and was eventually let go, letting the huge sphere of rock descend on its victim, who let out of the barest of whimpers before being subjected to rather intense pain.



{Ouch. That HAD to hurt.} Shampoo nodded in agreement with her comrade's conclusion.

Even though none of the warriors of that particular group were of an age or level where the breaking point training was mandatory, they were those who felt they possessed the courage and stamina to take on that particular training early.

*SLAM!!*

Of course, if it weren't for the upcoming tournament, Shampoo was certain that many of the girls that surrounded her wouldn't be here right now. The Bakusai Tenketsu was often described as 'cram training', since it gave the trainee such an excellent edge in endurance in record time. Of course, like all forms of cramming, it wasn't always totally worth the trouble.

*SLAM!!*

Shampoo winced. She had already gone through the rounds several times before, and had regretted it for days afterward each time. Not that she was slacking in her training. On the contrary, she just felt it was necessary for a warrior of her stature.

*SLAM!!*

Oh. Look at that. The woman who was hauling the boulder up looked rather worn out. It was quite fortunate... uh... UNfortunate that Shampoo had been one of the last in line.

Suddenly, two of the girls next to her poked her to get her attention.

{Hey, Shampoo, there's some guy over near the edge of the clearing watching us.}

Shampoo blinked, then looked over to where they were gesturing, ready to chase away Mousse if it were him lying in wait to 'care for his darling Shampoo's injuries'.

Her tension broke as soon as she saw the man. It was obvious that the redhead looking about casually with his hands in his pockets wasn't from around here at first glance; nobody in the village had clothes like that. After a few more seconds of observation, it was simple to deduce that he wasn't even Chinese.

{Isn't he just gorgeous? Look at him!} Linen and Towel giggled like a couple of schoolgirls.

Shampoo rolled her eyes, glad that she at least had some kind of control on her hormones. {Don't be ridiculous. He must be older than your father, Linen.}

She sniffed. {You know, you're really no fun. It's no wonder you don't have any friends.}

Shampoo glared at her dangerously, and turned back to the line in a huff. Well excuse HER for not gushing over every man that crossed her path!

{Hey! Look! He's leaving!}

{I wonder where he's staying? The nearest village is in the other direction?}

{Let's follow him and find his campsight! Maybe he's a fighter!}

Shampoo ignored them for the most part, until she realized what direction it was that the man had gone. She turned around just as Towel and Linen disappeared behind the trees.

{Towel! Linen! That part of the woods is forbidden! You're heading towards the Cursed Springs! Hey!} Shampoo jumped out of line and followed after them, the rest of girls giving her startled glances, unsure of what to do.



One person waiting nearby in the shadows had recognized her voice, however, and the direction of her flight. And he knew exactly what he had to do.



Shampoo raced after her fellow Amazons while simultaneously cursing their stupidity. Still, she mused, she had gotten out of the breaking point training for the day. How convenient... er... frustrating!

At her top speed she passed through the trees quickly, and soon beheld the legendary training ground of Jusenkyou in all its deceptively tranquil glory.

She scanned the ground around the Guide's hut, and soon located her quarry. Linen and Towel were sitting around a purple campfire along with the redheaded man, and shooting starry-eyed looks at someone jumping around on the poles. Shampoo took a few steps forward before she noticed what was wrong with that statement and fell down. A PURPLE campfire?!

Towel and Linen turned at the noise, and giggled as Shampoo picked herself up. Then they stopped as the lavender-haired girl glared hard at them.

{What do you think you're doing? The Cursed Springs are forbidden to us! You know that!}

The two girls' eyes widened, and they looked about in wonder, as if just realizing where they were. Actually, considering how airheaded they were, Shampoo wouldn't have been surprised if they DID just realize it.

She turned to the redheaded man, sparing a curious glance at the dark fire. {I apologize for the trouble. We will bother you no longer.}

The man stared, then slowly responded, {Sorry, I don't speak Chinese. Japanese.}

Shampoo blinked, then formed the words in her head, glad that she taken the time to at least learn SOME Japanese from the elder's classes. "Shampoo sorry. We no bother you."

Iori nodded. "No trouble."

Turning back to her companions, Shampoo noticed, much to her annoyance, that the girls had gone all calf-eyed at what they had been staring at before, and looked for who it was.

She quickly changed her opinion. She couldn't blame them for staring at all. He, at least, was their age. And he WAS gorgeous.

The young man in the large black jacket was doing gymnastic displays all over the field of springs, swinging around bamboo poles like gymnastics bars, and doing somersaults and backflips in-between landings.

At first she thought he was just trying to show off, doing such things in such a dangerous place, but she quickly realized that he was completely oblivious to his audience, simply concentrating on doing the most difficult acrobatics he could manage.

{He's good, isn't he?}

{He's not as good as he is handsome!}

Shampoo shook her head to clear it, and refocused her glare on the two girls. {As if you could tell, the way he's jumping about like that. Come! We'll be in even more trouble than we already are if someone else tells the elder what happened before we do. And-}

{GET AWAY FROM MY SHAMPOO!!!}



The three Amazons all stopped and sweatdropped, and Shampoo groaned.

Iori would might have connected the shout that had ended with 'Shampoo' to the girl that had addressed him earlier, but his attention was mainly occupied by the group of sharp, pointy objects flying towards him at high speed. Iori crossed his arms in front of him in a block, and by all rights the weapons should have sliced him apart regardless, but the struck and bounced off as if they had hit steel or rock rather than cloth and flesh, leaving not a mark on their victim. The knife barrage was followed by a chain that whipped around Iori's legs, and tightened around his body.

Shampoo turned angrily towards her unwanted suitor. {Mousse! What are you doing?! This man has done nothing!}

Mousse nodded. {Yes. Well, regardless, we must get you back to the village Shampoo. You know I won't tell the elders what happened, but-}

*Ahem* {I'm Linen, not Shampoo.} Linen interrupted.

Mousse turned to the next figure, and opened his mouth to speak.

{Keep going.} Said Towel.

Mousse turned to the last figure, and blinked at the blurry, yet colorful orb that was cocked back and ready to smash his face in.

However, Shampoo's brand of gratuitous violence was averted by the sharp sound of steel being ripped apart.

*Ka-shink!* The chain fell on the ground around Iori's legs, and the elder Yagami stood up to his full height, head down, hands in his pockets. Iori spared a glance at the kid with long hair and robes with glasses settled on his head, before dropping his face to the ground again, his blood-red hair obscuring his face.

"What's the big idea attacking me?" His voice was quiet and calm. Shampoo and the other girls backed away fearfully.

Mousse wasn't so bright, and turned back to Shampoo. Or at least the mass of blurs that hopefully contained Shampoo. {Never mind him. Come on Shampoo, we have to leave quickly. Now-}

"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I said..." Iori kicked one of the blades stuck awkwardly into the ground, and sent it flying towards Mousse. Mousse only saw it at the last instant, and didn't have time to dodge as it sliced across his shoulder. He gasped and let out a strangled cry, then staggered forward.

"... What's the big idea attacking me?" Iori finished, facing towards the ground again.

Mousse glared in pain and fury at the man that dared attack him. A thin stream of blood, several ribbons, a rubber hose, and a golf ball all fell out of the cut in the robe. Mousse's aura glared red.

"How dare you attack me, fool?! You'll pay for that!!" Mousse spread his arms wide, and several nasty metal objects pokes their way out of his sleeves.

Shampoo and the others stepped back wisely. Shampoo was shaking her head. {I hope the outsider kills Mousse quickly. He's annoying, but he doesn't really deserve a slow, painful death.} The others nodded sagely in agreement.



Mousse flung his arms in a wide arc, sending a wave of knives and shuriken out to tear apart his enemy. Iori simply took his hands out of his pockets, and suddenly his form blurred as he slipped through the attack. Not around or below it, but simply weaved through it, afterimages trailing behind him as he seemed to slide across the ground. Mousse was too shocked to dodge the clawing punch even had been able to defend against it normally, and was sent flying backwards, a set of shallow gashes marring his robes and chest.

"LOOK OUT!!!" Iori only took a moment to wonder why Shampoo was warning him about the attack he had already slipped through, before he realized she wasn't talking to him.

Turning around, he saw the still airborne projectiles sailing towards Ranma, who seemingly just noticed their presence.

Ranma was no slouch with his reflexes though, and his hands blurred, knocking away all but one of the sharp missiles. The last one he hit out of the air with a snap kick, amazingly still keeping his balance on the pole.

The bamboo, unfortunately, wasn't able to defend itself in this manner, and instantly fell to the restrictions of gravity once a throwing axe made a diagonal cut in the fragile stalk. Ranma had not been so prepared for this, and plummeted in frozen horror toward the spring below.

*Sploosh*

Iori was stunned, not knowing what to do. At the familiar sound of a splash, the Guide had exited his hut, shaking his head, and made his way to the disturbed waters.



Of course, not everyone was frozen from the turn of events.

"Damn you! It's not over yet!" A chain wrapped itself around Iori's torso.

The other Amazons' attention shifted once again, and they took yet another step back as a fierce purple halo encompassed Iori's imposing figure.

"YOU!!!" *Snap* went the chains, like they were made out of fishing line.

"WILL!!!" 'Urk' went Mousse, as Iori yanked the chain that was still connected to the male Amazon, closing the distance between them rapidly.

"PAY!!!" *Crunch!* went the ground, as Iori slammed the nearsighted fighter into it.

Even the Guide forgot about the spring's victim as Iori developed a sort of standing CPR position over Mousse, and then blasted him into the Earth with an explosion of purple fire. Blasted him several times, actually.

*Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!* Iori lifted his hands high in the air, trailing dark smoke into the wind from such a heavy output of energy at once. "SHINE!!"

*BLA-A-A-A-AM!!!!* The ground shook slightly at the detonation, and cracks formed in the earth that quickly filled with rushes of purple energy. Nearby some trees ignited, and the flames spread quickly to burn the wooden giants to blackened splinters.

Shampoo gulped and slowly slid down into a sitting position on the ground as Mousse's body bounced away into one of the other springs, completely unidentifiable from a particularly large piece of charcoal.

That particular spring let out hissing tendrils of smoke from the heat that was suddenly poured into it, but it was ignored by all, particularly Iori.



Breathing hard from the exertion of expanding upon his usual Ya Otome assault, Iori rushed to the waters his son had fallen in...

A body shot up out of the spring before he could reach it, and he stopped short. It was a body in his son's clothes. A body with hair as red as his own; as red as Yurumi's. A body with breasts, he realized dumbly.

Ranma gasped for air and gripped the edge of the spring frantically, coughing up water.

Ranma was just barely coherent enough to hear the Guide's sorrowful words.

"Oh, very sorry sirs. That one called Spring of Drowned Girl, yes. It have very tragic legend of girl who drown there 1,500 year ago! Now any who fall in take body of young girl! Is very cursed spring!"

Ranma's breath caught, despite her need for new oxygen in her lungs, and she slowly looked down at her chest. Twin orbs jutted out from beneath her tank top, plain for everyone to see since her jacket was open.

"R-Ranma... you-you... you're a girl......"

Ranma looked up into Iori's eyes, to see what? Fear? Disgust? Disappointment? All at once, the most important thing that had ever been said to her in her life came rushing back to her, the words that had shaped the rest of her existence forever.

'You train so you can be a better man than I am,' her father had said.

'-a better man than I am.'

'-a better man than-'

'-better man-'

'-MAN-'

That word echoed over and over in her head. She had failed. The one thing that her father had expected of her, the only thing she needed to do to earn her father's respect. She had failed. One split decision to dodge or deflect. The wrong decision. One dunk in a spring.

SHE HAD FAILED.

Her chest felt tight, and for some reason, her entire body felt warm, hot in fact, even as her heart formed into a cold lump in her newly expanded bosom.

She suddenly coughed up some blood, and started shaking all over. She felt so hot.

Her father's voice attempted to pierce the shroud in her mind.

"Ranma! Ranma! You've got to calm down! Stop!"

Her father. All that trouble, all the training her father had put him through. No. Put HER through. She was a man no longer.

All a waste.

Her vision blurred, and she began to feel all rational thought leave her. Only a pit remained, a pit filled with terror, anger, shame, and............ something else. Something that called out to her, offered her release. Something that burned inside the fear, fed the anger, and consumed the shame that spiralled her into a deep sleep...

................................................................. Failed..................................................................... ..



Iori backed up slowly, prompting the girls that had already seen his awesome display of power to scramble away rapidly. Anything this guy feared, they did NOT want to mess with.

All of a sudden, the redheaded girl that they thought had convulsed into unconsciousness started to get up slowly.

"No! RANMA!!!" Iori's screams were to no effect.

The Amazons gasped at the sight and cringed away. Pale steam poured from Ranma's mouth in steady bursts of breath. Her form stood up, but hung hunched over, her arms hanging limply. But her eyes.

Her eyes were an empty yellow.

"Ranma... no..." Iori slumped down in defeat.

"Grrrrrr...... Grugh.... Graaaaagh....... Graugh! Graugh!! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!!"



And so the flame was reborn, and the fires of the Orochi once again set the sky ablaze.



*************************************************************************** *******

End of Chapter 1



Translations

Doushita- "How's this"

Shine- "Die"

Yami Barai- Dark thrust

Ya Otome- Maiden masher