Unlimited Bandanna Works

by weebee

An Anything Goes Martial Artist must accept any challenge put before him. When that's the Holy Grail War, perhaps Ranma shouldn't have charged in so casually?

11. Chapter 11: OtherNight

So, this chapter... I've got... things... to say about it, but I think those can wait 'till afterwards. There'll be a bit of an author's rant after the normal endnotes. Feel free to skip it if you'd like.

As for what should be up here, first a bit of a warning and apology. For some insane reason I thought that giving a F/SN fic a T rating was a good idea. That's changing this chapter, as the rating will go up to M about twelve hours after this post. (I'm delaying because I don't know how favorites handle that and want to give everyone a heads-up.)

On that note, this chapter also contains one scene I'm not sure about. While my one greatest flaw is the inability to do descriptions correctly, so I probably have little to worry about, I don't want to end up being wrong this time and giving someone a panic attack. So just a heads up, there's a scene marked with a (!) next to its scene break. If you've got a major problem with descriptions of insects being kind of disturbing, you might want to give that scene a miss.

And with that out of the way, here's the chapter!

Chapter 11: Other/Night.

"Damn, pretty sure this one's a write-off…" Ranma mumbled to himself, sighing as he dropped the bundle of torn cloth that had once been a shirt in his lap. He'd only started out with five of his favorite silk shirts, and buying a new one was always a pain in the neck given the amount of money he usually had, but he'd worn this one both in the fight with Caster's master at the school and while rescuing Illyasviel, and the combination of being covered in blood and badly torn twice made repairing it a lost proposition. Stuffing it back in his pack, which he'd retrieved from Shiro's place before they'd gone to the Einzbern mansion, he looked up as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

The pale haired girl was standing at the bottom, tentatively glancing around the hall and into the living room where Ranma sat. "Emiya's gone?" She asked, quietly, when she caught Ranma's eye.

"They left about ten minutes ago."

The girl nodded, stepping into the living room and continuing her inspection. After a few moments, she huffed.

"Somethin' wrong?" the pigtailed martial artist asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There's no TV." The statement was matter of fact, not a complaint, and it took a moment for Ranma's brain to catch up to.

"Huh?" He asked, blinking at her.

"I was sort of expecting one," Illyasviel explained. "Rin Tohsaka's living on her own, in her own house with no one to tell her how something like that's inappropriate."

"She's… kinda serious about the magecraft thing," Ranma returned, shrugging. Truthfully, it was one of the more amusing and frustrating parts of the Tohsaka girl's lectures. He knew none of the terminology and although Shiro did, he occasionally misunderstood concepts that the twin-tailed girl took as a given. About half the time she'd ended up stopping lectures out of sheer frustration with one or both of her idiot students and stomped off, coming back after an hour or two to calm down.

Illyasviel nodded at the martial artist's statement, before her expression began to sour. "She's dedicated herself to the grail war, the same as I did."

"I guess so?" Ranma tilted his head. He was fairly sure Rin's reverence for her art went a bit further than that, the same way his own did, but she was pretty damned serious about the grail war even if she disapproved of some of the masters' methods of fighting it. "This seems like a lotta trouble for a wish," he observed.

"It's not just a wish!" Illyasviel shot back, her previously calm tones abruptly shifting to annoyance. At Ranma's continued confused expression, she continued, "I know that some people look at it that way, including some of the Servants, but for the founding families it's far more than that. It's… connection to the Root, the Akashic Record! The final wish of any true magus."

Ranma could practically hear the capital letters, but had no idea of the significance of them. "That's... Good?" He guessed.

The girl actually laughed at this, though it was a derisive, incredulous laugh. "It's a bit more than good. But you, you were recruited as a master to make up the numbers, right? You are here for a wish."

Ranma shook his head. "Ry- Assassin is, I think," he corrected himself. "Me, I'm not botherin' with that sorta stuff. I mean, sure, I get a chance for a wish to cure my curse." He frowned. "I can see it now. I get halfway through wishing the curse was gone, a freak rainstorm comes right outta nowhere, and I'm a girl the rest of my life."

The girl blinked, confused. "If you don't want a wish, then why are you participating in the grail war?"

"I dunno," Ranma admitted. "I mean, Assassin's wish is important to him, so I guess that's part of it. But at the end of this I think we're gunna have to fight Saber or Lancer, and that's gunna be a pretty short fight from what I can tell. Other than that, I guess it's just how some of the masters piss me off." At the white haired girl's inquisitive expression, he continued. "Apparently Rider went around drinkin' blood, and hit a high school for mana. Caster's been drivin' whole office buildings into comas. Me, Rin and Shiro seem to be the only ones who aren't goin' around treatin' people who've got nothing to do with this as extra points. And you, far as I know."

"I haven't targeted anyone outside of the war," Illyasviel retorted, eyes narrow, before she seemed to consider the rest of the Saotome boy's statement. "So you're some naive, wandering hero?"

"Huh, that's the second time someone's called me that lately," Ranma answered. "I'm just a martial artist. This war's let me fight a bunch of legendary people, and taught me a few things I wouldn't have known otherwise. Gettin' to help punch murderous assholes in the face is just a bonus." He grimaced down at his side, where he could still feel the dull throb of his most recent wound. "When I'm not gettin' stabbed, at least."

"You sound like that's happened multiple times," the Einzbern girl deadpanned. Ranma shifted a little self consciously, but Illyasviel didn't push the subject, going back to inspecting the living room.

After a few moments of quiet thought, Ranma spoke up again. "So what's this Akasha thing?"

"You want me to explain the Akashic Record to you?" Illyasviel asked, looking at him with an expression of incredulity.

"Sure?" Ranma asked. "Nothin' else to do, right?" The younger girl inhaled deeply as if preparing to answer when there was a knock on the house's front door. Illyasviel almost looked relieved as the boy got up to get it.

Quickly glancing through the window, Ranma confirmed that it wasn't anyone he knew on the other side. Granted, it wasn't likely for Caster to knock on the door rather than crashing in, but stranger things had happened. "Hey," he said, as he swung the door open and greeted the darkly clad man on the porch.

He had dark hair and a somber, blank eyed expression, a gold cross hanging from a simple necklace around his neck. He was also extremely tall, so much so that Ranma had to look up a fair bit to meet his eyes. "Can I help you, um, father?" He asked, taking a stab from the man's necklace and the priestly outfit he was wearing.

"Kirei Kotomine," the man said in a deep, resonating voice. "I see that Rin Tohsaka isn't here?"

"She's off… uh… doin' stuff," Ranma said, lamely, before wondering why there was a priest looking for the magus.

"Fighting a Servant, I'd imagine," the man said, simply. At Ranma's widened eyes, he continued. "I am the Church's overseer for the Grail War. Rin brought the last master she met to me, so that I could explain certain rules." His expression quirked into a slight smile. "Apparently she didn't feel the need to do so with you, master of Assassin."

"Yeah, she never really mentioned that," Ranma admitted. The man didn't respond, stepping past the martial artist into the Tohsaka residence's front hall so casually that Ranma almost missed it.

"I'm actually here to see you," the man explained, eyes focused directly on Illyasviel, who had come to the living room door to see what was going on.

"Why would you be here to see me?" the girl asked, calmly as she craned her neck to look into the older man's eyes.

"You've lost your Servant," the church overseer rumbled. "It's my job to provide sanctuary and ensure the safety of Servantless masters during the war. Since Caster's little… incident at the church, I felt it was best to come and take you somewhere safe."

"I see," the white haired girl replied, slowly stepping backwards into the living room. "And if I refuse the church's protection? As you said, your supposed base was captured by Caster."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist," the priest said, stepping forward, his tone still sounding casual and almost affable.

"The kid said no," Ranma said, reaching out and laying a hand on the man's arm. The tall priest didn't even break stride as he raised said arm, throwing Ranma's grip off before the other hand darted into his navy overcoat. When it came out, the priest was somehow clutching three slim, silver swords, each poking through the crevices in a nearly clenched fist. Ranma yelped, having not seen the attack coming, but managed to lean back so that the blades only cut deep grooves in the wall next to the stairs before spinning on a foot, striking the older man across the stomach with the other leg and sending him flying backwards through the front door.

He skidded to a stop on the house's porch, using his three blades and another set that he held in his other fist to catch himself.

"This escalated quickly," Ranma muttered, taking a defensive stance in the house's doorway.

"Indeed," the priest returned, sounding more like he was talking about the weather than standing across from an opponent with six silver blades jutting out of his hands. "I'm only here to retrieve miss Einzbern, you have no need to do this."

"Yeah," Ranma agreed. ''Cept she doesn't want to go."

"Fair enough," the older man nodded, leaping forward. The next few minutes were a busy series of dodges and counters, as Ranma managed to get the other man further away from Rin's house and onto the front lawn, but not before finding out that his strange swords were extremely light weight, surprisingly strong, and capable of being launched from between his fingers like sharp edged projectiles. The last lesson had come at the cost of a chunk of his pigtail, the shattering of one of Rin's living room windows, and a startled yelp from Illyasviel inside the building.

As the pigtailed martial artist grabbed his braid and inspected the damage, frowning irritably, he noticed that his opponent had somehow produced a new throwing blade to replace the one he'd just thrown."C'mon, that's just kinda unfair!" He complained, ducking out of the way as the man swung broadly at him again.

"Is it?" His opponent asked. "I've noticed something about this fight of ours that makes me believe otherwise."

"Huh?" Ranma asked.

"Simply put," the priest said stoically, "I'm wondering why you're playing with me."

"Playing with…" Ranma asked, ducking out of the way of another of his opponent's precise strikes, before leaping into the air to dodge a continuation of the motion that brought his other hand around to remove the pigtailed martial artist's legs at the knees. Lashing out with a couple of precise kicks, Ranma forced his opponent to drop the three swords in his right hand.

"If you're so eager to protect Illyasviel von Einzbern," Kirei continued, his tone still maddeningly conversational even as he produced another set of the expanding silver blades from inside of his robe, "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"Wh- what?" Ranma asked, leaping away from his opponent.

"A simple question," the priest returned. "Your skills obviously exceed mine. I've been doing my best to cause as much damage as possible, and yet you've been dodging my attacks, responding with just enough force to force me to drop my blades, or knock me back." The dark clad man crossed his six slim swords in front of his body, cold eyes regarding Ranma from over top of them. "More bluntly, you're holding back. That isn't a wise idea."

His damned tone still hadn't changed. It felt to Ranma as though he were being lectured by an authoritative master who was disappointed with his failure to grasp an exercise. He tried to grasp for something to say in response, but was interrupted as the older man's body suddenly pulsed with red light, which escaped outward from his right arm's sleeve. It took Ranma's conscious mind a moment to catch up as the other exploded forward, blades passing through the space he'd occupied as he instinctively dodged.

He frantically danced out of the way, one motion carrying into the next, into the next as relentless strings of attacks caused him to contort his body to its limits, completely incapable of mustering a defense. A strangled gasp emerged from his mouth as a flash of white hot pain blossomed in his side, and he wondered if he'd been caught by a blow he hadn't seen before realizing his previous bindings had just broken.

When a few small nicks started appearing on his arms as he deflected blades, he blinked. A glimpse at the priest's hand at the end of a swing revealed that he was now holding four of those swords, one held in place by only his thumb. 'This is getting ridiculous.'

After a seeming eternity that only lasted about twelve seconds, the assault of blades slowed, then almost stopped. Kirei's speed abruptly dropped to a level that Ranma could manage more easily, and seeing an opening that looked a kilometer wide to the martial artist's keyed up senses, he kicked the older man in the chest and sent him sliding across the Tohsaka residence's lawn.

Gasping, Ranma slumped forward slightly, feeling the disconcerting warmth of blood dripping down his side and muscles pushed to their limits. 'What the hell was that?' He thought, though something about his opponent's last trick seemed familiar, somehow.

"Interesting," Kirei's resonant voice echoed across the lawn as he flicked one hand and sent his four blades shooting at Ranma, one after another in less than a second. The pigtailed boy danced out of their way, but this time wasn't surprised as four more emerged from the man's fingers a second later. This was officially getting to Mousse levels, save that his current opponent was much faster and more accurate than the blind amazon.

"Y'know," Ranma panted, dancing backwards and sideways a little to avoid the next barrage. "You're right. I've been way too soft on you." Kirei raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak. "I'm thinkin' it's about time to finish this," Ranma continued, cupping his hands before him. "Saotome secret forbidden technique!" he yelled, a pulsing ball of blue and gold energy forming between his hands as he continued to move back towards Rin's house. "Shin Moko- Fast break!" The ball exploded in a huge flash of light and a thunder clap that rattled windows for half a block, as Ranma bolted for the living room window where he'd seen Illyasviel peeking out curiously a moment before.

He crashed through the remaining glass, scooping the girl into his arms for the second time in one day. As he charged through the living room and kitchen, throwing open the back door, he heard loud, booming laughter from the front yard. "Now this seems familiar," he muttered darkly, vaulting onto the roof of the house next to Rin's and continuing to run as quickly as he could.

HR.

Ranma came to a stumbling stop several blocks away from the Tohsaka residence, dropping heavily from a rooftop into an alleyway in the middle of Fuyuki's central city. When he set down Illyasviel, the girl calmly dusting off her dress, he suddenly realized that she'd barely made a noise since they'd started running, just huddling into a ball in his arms and moving as little as possible.

"You're way too used to this…" he muttered, slumping against a wall and sliding slowly to the ground as the exertion and blood loss took their toll.

The white haired girl shook her head. "Berserker did do it a couple of times," she admitted, "But I simply felt that screaming and making a lot of noise would be counter-productive."

"I guess," Ranma grunted, slowly removing his red silk shirt to gain access to the wound beneath, a fresh blotch having already darkened the material. "Hope I don't have ta use this one to rebind the wound," he muttered, lifting the undershirt as well. He was surprised, however, when the younger girl crouched down next to him, studying the wound.

"Hold still," she ordered, pulling back the material of the bandage as Ranma did his best not to hiss from the rough treatment of the wound.

"What are you-" He was cut off as she placed her hand against the skin on his side. A flash of rage and betrayal ran through his body before he could pull himself back, glaring intently at the wall across from them.

"This will hurt," she announced, with barely enough time for Ranma to brace as a burning sensation ran across his side, as if someone were dumping alcohol over the wound. His teeth clacked together so hard that he could practically feel them groaning, and a strangled grunt left his mouth, only stopped from being an agonized scream by the fact that he wasn't sure if the robed priest was still nearby.

"Th… The hell was that?!" He growled, swatting her hands away from his side, before blinking at the unwounded skin that was now there, a red, angry scar the only evidence of the previous injury. "Uh…" he blinked down at it, and then looked back to Illyasviel. "Sorry. A little more warning woulda been nice, though."

She nodded. "My mother knew more effective healing magic," she said, as though discussing the weather. "Unfortunately I was unable to learn it, so I had to use a technique that's usually reserved for Homunculi."

Had that been an apology? Ranma decided to take it that way, putting his shirt back on and hauling himself to his feet. He was still a little woozie, but no longer bleeding out, so that was an improvement. "So what's a Homunculi?" He asked, as he headed for the end of the alley.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" The girl behind him asked in an astonished tone as he carefully surveyed the street before him, filled with a small but notable crowd. When he just waved her over without saying anything, she huffed. "A Homunculus," she put special emphasis on the word, "is a type of artificially created being."

"So, like a robot?" Ranma asked, confused, as the two started down the street, the pigtailed boy casually glancing around to try and spot pursuit.

"A- No, not like a robot!" She huffed.

"So are you one of these Homunculus people?" Ranma took another stab, though this time he got a much less irritated response, in the form of a simple nod. "Is that why Lancer warned me that someone would be after you tonight?"

"He warned you?" Illyasviel asked.

"That's basically the only reason I didn't try and sneak off after everyone else," Ranma admitted, sheepishly.

The girl thought about that for a moment, and then spoke. "The priest isn't after me just because I'm a homunculus," she started. "It's actually because I was modified to be the vessel of the grail."

"The 'vessel?'" Ranma tilted his head. "So, everyone's after the grail, which is why he's after you, but you're a master too, but… you're the grail? How's that…"

"I'm not the grail, I'm its vessel," the girl said slowly. "The grail will emerge through me when the seven Servants are defeated."

Ranma stopped for a moment, pretending to read a sign in front of a small restaurant as he thought. He briefly wondered if that thing he felt within the young girl's aura was the grail, though if it was, the thing apparently wanted to kill everyone in half a kilometer out of spite. He rubbed his forehead. He wasn't even sure how he'd felt that, in the first place. Since he'd come to Fuyuki, his chi sense seemed to have gotten more sensitive. Well, that or this place was absolutely full of heavy and distorted chi. Back in Nerima, the best he could usually do was detect a fully active battle aura, or the hostile intent of an attacker. Here, though-

"Are you really that hungry?" He was brought out of his thoughts by the pale haired girl next to him tugging on his sleeve. Shaking his head, he turned away from the sign. "So, what happens to you if this grail 'emerges?'"

"I die." Ranma turned to face the girl, who was looking back at him, calmly. What was it with this night and calm conversations about mortality? He shook that thought off.

"What do you mean, you die?" The pigtailed boy demanded.

"It's simple," the girl said, starting to walk again. "At some point, the mana I take in from the Servants will be too much for my body to take. By the time all of them are dead, I'll be completely inanimate. If the grail isn't summoned, then I'll die in a year or so from now, regardless, due to the modifications that were made to me."

"And you're… okay with that?" Ranma asked, scrabbling to recover from his disorientation at the change in the conversation's direction.

"No, I was really hoping that I could win the war for my family, and deal with Shiro Emiya, but since the loss of Berserker, that isn't possible." There! Just for a second, Ranma had seen a flash of pain on the girl's face. Paradoxically, it actually relieved him. This, he could at least sort of understand. Then the reality of the situation crashed down upon him. He had no idea what to do about it, and no clue where to start. Then again, there was one resource he'd often used which he hadn't thought of this time.

"Come on," he said, after several seconds of silence. "We're gettin' outta here."

"Where are we going?" illyasviel asked, hurrying to catch up as Ranma stalked down the street.

"Just trust me," Ranma said, a confident smirk spreading across his lips.

HR.

"Where are we going?" Illyasviel repeated, as she and Ranma were seated in an almost empty subway car, the last station in Fuyuki receding behind them.

"Tokyo," the pigtailed boy answered. "Figure it'd be a good idea to get you out of town 'till P-chan and the others are done getting Saber back."

"That's… a good idea," Illyasviel admitted, incredulously. Ranma looked offended, but didn't comment. The two fell into silence for the next few minutes, the white haired girl curiously inspecting the train car, though she eventually seemed to get tired of that, turning to her traveling companion.

"I think it's my turn to ask you a question." He didn't respond, his vision seeming distant. "Are you ignoring me?" She demanded.

"Huh? Oh… no," Ranma denied. "Ryo- I mean, my Servant just contacted me. He wanted to know why we were leaving the city."

The girl opened her mouth as if to ask something, and then paused. "I wanted to ask you a question," she continued. Ranma just nodded. "Back there, that priest said that you could have killed him at any time, was that true?"

Ranma winced, glancing away from her and out the window. "I..." he started, and then shook his head. "Yeah, probably," he eventually admitted. "'An' before you ask why I didn't, since I'm gettin' real tired of that sorta thing around here, it's because that's not what I do."

"That... doesn't explain anything," Illyasviel deadpanned, as the train emerged from the tunnel and began traveling overland.

"I kinda had the same conversation with Saber," Ranma tried to explain. "It's like, everyone won't shut up about how the usual tactic is to kill masters, and do whatever it takes to win... but I'm a martial artist. The ol' man didn't have much to say on it, but the rest of my teachers were pretty clear. Killin' your opponent, or using too much force, means you lose. Part of the challenge is bein' able to put them down without resorting to crippling or killing them." He shrugged. "And that makes sense, right? I mean, if you cripple somebody, he can't improve and fight you again in the future, not even gettin' into how killin' someone over some wish ain't right."

"He was trying to kill you," the girl bit out the words slowly, almost one syllable at a time, her expression incredulous.

Ranma just shrugged again. "Happens a lot." Seeing her expression clouding over with anger, he held up his hands. "Look, I get it, the guy's after you, and I'm guessin' getting the grail whatever out of you isn't gunna be pleasant, so If it's him goin' down or you, it's gunna be him." The pigtailed boy's eyes darkened, gazing past the shorter girl as his voice seemed to lose its confidence. "Trust me, it's happened before."

"I... see," Illyasviel finally said, after several seconds of uncomfortable silence. She thought about asking another question, but decided against it, as the mood seemed to rest heavily around her. Instead, she turned her attention to the window again.

HR.

Ranma couldn't help but stretch as he and Illyasviel walked up the stone stairs onto a familiar Neriman street. A tension he hadn't previously been aware of seemed to lift from his shoulders, even as he worried about what would happen next. His ruminations on that subject were interrupted before they could really get going by a gasp, and then a high-pitched squeal from the shorter figure walking next to him.

Gaze shifting quickly as he fell into a defensive stance, the pigtailed martial artist couldn't help but blink at what he saw. Illyasviel was standing, fists tucked up under her chin and eyes wide as she looked slowly from side to side. "Are… are you alright?" He asked, slowly.

"These really exist!" The white haired girl yelled, before running excitedly forward, glancing back and forth as if she were trying to take in the entire shopping street at once. "It's even got the arch!" She pointed emphatically at the wood and stone structure that stood feet from the station exit, welcoming visitors to the district.

"Uh… yeah…" Ranma said, wondering if the girl had maybe banged her head on something when the train had stopped.

"Oh!" Illyasviel yelled, "And there's a comic store, and an Okonomiyaki restaurant!" Ranma immediately winced at that loud remark, especially as he saw movement from one of the windows on Ucchans' second floor.

"You wanna be quieter?" He hissed. "It's past midnight, none of these places are open."

"Oh… right…" The enthusiasm seemed to drain out of the girl, as she shifted nervously, then looked down to the pavement.

"Geez…" Ranma muttered. "Look, Fuyuki's got one of these too, y'know. I just avoided it 'cuz I didn't want that priest to find us. Maybe we can check it out later?"

Illyasviel's eyes immediately shot up to meet his, glittering intensely. "Is that a promise?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, backing up slightly and raising his hands. Seriously, what was going on with her? She seemed to accept his word, looking away and walking over to him. When he checked Ucchans' again, he saw a pale, pretty face peering out at him through the window where he'd seen the movement before.

Raising one hand, he made a shushing motion. The figure in the window jerked its head sideways in Illya's direction. Ranma just raised both hands to shoulder level, palm up. The figure seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding and withdrawing, leaving the curtain to fall closed behind them.

"Who was she?" Illyasviel asked.

"That was just Konatsu," Ranma replied. "He's got really good ears when he wants to."

"...He?" The girl asked, confused, as her companion started down the street.

HR.

Ranma and Illyasviel only walked a bit over a block before coming to a stop in front of a ramen shop. The pigtailed martial artist scooped a rock from the ground and flicked it at one of the windows on the second floor, hard. The loud crack made the white haired girl curious if he'd actually broken the glass. After about thirty seconds, the martial artist picked up another pebble and did it again. Shortly after that, the building's front door swung part-way open, a wrinkled face peering out into the darkness. "What do- Son-in-law?"

"Hey, ol' ghoul," Ranma replied. The wrinkled figure's eyes narrowed at the comment. Sighing, it pushed open the door and withdrew into the building, the lights on the restaurant floor turning on a moment later. Ranma casually walked in, Illyasviel cautiously following.

Her caution proved to be warranted, as a moment after she emerged into the light, the wrinkled figure, who turned out to be an ancient white haired woman in a green robe who was somehow perched on a gnarled wooden staff, lunged at her.

The figure seemed to blur, and the staff was speeding towards the girl's chest before she could do more than stumble back half a step. Ranma intercepted the blow with an arcing kick that knocked the staff up into the air, before following up with a punch that sent the old woman rocketing across the room and colliding heavily with a table. "You're real popular, you know that?" He growled, crouching in a defensive stance as Illyasviel's wide eyes stared at his back. "Ol' ghoul, what the hell?!"

"Son-in-law, Do you know what that thing is?!" the old woman demanded, seemingly unphased by her trip into a table.

"I got a pretty good idea, yeah," Ranma replied, watching her carefully.

"I doubt it, or you wouldn't be protecting it," The elder snapped. "That is a homunculus of the Einzbern family. It is extremely dangerous!"

"Huh, wait… you know about the Einzberns?" Ranma asked, blinking. "Knew I probably shoulda talked to you sooner."

"I know enough," The old woman growled. "I know that they came to Amazon territory many years ago, seaking the secrets of the springs and their source. Their leader entered the village, high-handedly demanding all of our 'primitive, backwards legends' on the springs' magic, and when we refused to provide them, it tried to take them by force." Even as she explained, the old woman's glare never left the white haired girl who hid behind Ranma.

"Yeah, her family's a piece of work, I kinda got that from how they've apparently got it rigged so she won't live another year and made her the vessel of the grail," Ranma snapped back. "Still don't mean you gotta try and kill her."

"The… grail?" The old woman suddenly focused all of her attention on Ranma. "Did you just say the grail? As in, the one in Fuyuki city?"

"Wait, you know about that too?" Ranma asked, incredulously.

"Very little," the old woman admitted. "Enough to know that it's Westerner business that should be avoided."

"Yeah," Ranma said, sighing. "Kinda too late for that." He slowly lowered one hand while keeping the rest of his stance, pulling up a pant-leg to reveal the spiral-shaped tattoo on his lower leg. He paused for a moment as he caught a look at it. It had lost most of its color, the outer rings of the spiral turning grey, only the center-most section still bright red.

The green robed woman abruptly dropped her staff, sighing. "I assume that's a mark that indicates your participation in the war?" She asked, her tone sounding pained.

"It's the command seal of a master," Illyasviel interrupted, noting the slight lowering of tensions and deciding that she was getting tired of being talked around. "The physical manifestation of the bond between one of the seven participants in the war and their Servant."

"Of course..." The old woman said, tiredly, before hopping onto the counter between the dining area and kitchen. Though she was still keeping a sharp eye on Illyasviel, Ranma seemed to take this as his cue to relax a bit.

"We got attacked because someone from some church is tryin' to take the grail from Illyasviel," Ranma explained, after a few moments of awkward silence. "Pretty sure they don't care if she lives through it or not. Figured it'd be safer to get out of the city for a bit, since my Servant and the people I'm workin' with are kinda busy right now, an' since I'm out here I might as well get your advice."

"My advice, son-in-law," The elder bit out, "is to destroy that thing next to you and cut any ties with its people or any other western mages."

Ranma shifted, looking both a little sheepish and annoyed. "Can't really do that," he admitted, before narrowing his eyes in concentration. Abruptly, his magic circuits sprang to life, outlining his body in faint blue lines. "Got a few questions for Mom, too." "He then shook his head. "Besides, I ain't exactly inclined to take Amazon advice on who needs ta die."

The old woman's already large eyes popped wider at the sight of Ranma's magic circuits, and she started muttering in a language Illyasviel didn't understand. Still, she was pretty sure she could recognize a string of curses when she heard one.

"Nothing is ever simple with you, is it son-sonny boy?" She seemed to catch herself mid-sentence.

Ranma didn't seem to notice, only wincing. "Ain't like it's my fault," he protested. "I just showed up to train in the woods, and suddenly there's a Servant tellin' me I've got a war to win."

"Indeed," The old woman nodded, and then turned to Illyasviel, looking her up and down. "You say-"

"Great-grandmother, what- Aiya! Airen! What you do here so late? You come see Shampoo, yes?" The white haired girl was blindsided as a purple haired woman in what looked like a pink cat-themed nightgown poked her head out of the kitchen, before squealing in delight. She launched herself out the door, starting a charge at the two of them, before the tip of a staff rose and caught her in the stomach.

Her feet left the ground as she almost folded in half around the obstacle, its wielder not even moving from her position on the counter.

"Hey, ol' ghoul, what gives?!" Ranma demanded as the purple haired girl coughed loudly on the ground. "Sure I don't like Shampoo huggin' me, but ain't that a little much?"

"Airen- Krrk... Airen right, great-grandmother!" The girl gasped, hauling herself to her feet. "What you do that for?!"

The old woman spoke to the girl for a moment in that other language, getting a loud, angry reply. A fairly vicious sounding argument followed, as the two visitors stood and watched, confused.

"Every once in a while I really wish I spoke Chinese," Ranma muttered, quietly.

After several more exchanges, Illyasviel was beginning to agree, especially as the purple haired girl's eyes filled with tears. She made a few more weak sounding comments, and then bowed her head slightly.

"Ol' ghoul, what the heck did you tell Shampoo?!" Ranma asked, angrily.

"She... She say our marriage is annulled," Shampoo stammered. "She say Amazons no can marry Mages. Is too dangerous for tribe."

"Uh... Oh." Ranma said, lamely, his face blank. "I..." He made a motion as if to reach out, and then froze. Looking over to the white haired girl beside him, she could see a sense of panic in his eyes. "That's, uh... kinda sudden." He winced as Shampoo's head dipped.

The green robed woman mercifully interrupted the pigtailed martial artist's frantic groping for something to say. She spoke in a curiously formal, clear tone. "Shampoo was completely unaware of the situation, and thus I, elder Ku-Lon of the Amazon tribe, have officially nullified the kiss of marriage. This will not be considered a failure. She will be able to return to the village."

"That's... good, right?" Ranma asked, hopefully.

"It is..." Shampoo took a deep breath, holding back her tears. "Is good," She said, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself. "Shampoo..." She took another breath. "Shampoo not sure she managed to win after..." She trailed off again.

"Sonny-boy," The elder interrupted once more. "Perhaps you can tell me exactly how you got involved with an Einzbern, while Shampoo... wakes up a bit more."

"R-right," Ranma nodded. As he began telling the story of how he'd gotten involved with the fifth grail war, Illyasviel found herself listening as intently as the old woman, the three settling around one of the restaurant's many tables. The white haired girl did her best to shuffle closer to Ranma and away from the one who had tried to stab her in the chest with a stick less than fifteen minutes earlier.

He seemed to be very reluctant to reveal the identity of his Servant, though neither of them felt inclined to push over it.

The green robed woman asked a few clarifying questions, and the white haired girl found herself wanting to do so as well, especially when Shiro was first mentioned, but resisted.

"-And that gets us to here. After I ran from the crazy priest with the swords, Illyasviel told me about how she's got the grail inside her, and how her family rigged it so she's only got a year to live. I figured if anyone knew what to do about that' it'd be you."

"Indeed," Ku-Lon nodded. Once more, she studied the white haired girl intently. As she reached out a hand, Ranma flinched.

"You might not wanna touch her," He said, reluctantly. This got curious looks from Cologne, Shampoo, who had returned about half way through his story, and Illyasviel herself.

"There's somethin'... in there," he said, obvious reluctance in his tone. "I mean, it ain't her, I can feel her around the edges, but it's so pissed off at everything that it somehow forces its way into your aura." He looked uncertainly at the white haired girl. "I'm kinda surprised you haven't gone nuts with it sittin' inside you this whole time."

"Something..." She muttered, looking down at her own hands. She tried to push back the sensation that she was usually capable of ignoring, the mud encrusted image of a formerly delicate, caring face twisted into a cruel smile. She was jolted out of her thoughts as a frail seeming hand landed on her arm. As it tightened, boney fingers pressing uncomfortably into her flesh, she flinched back.

"Ol' ghoul?" Ranma said, half question and half warning. Cologne removed her hand, and it looked like it was shaking slightly.

"And you think this thing shouldn't die?" She demanded, frowning darkly.

"For havin' some creepy grail thing shoved into her body?" Ranma asked, eyes narrowed. "No." He slowly pushed out his chair, preparing to stand, before Ku-Lon sighed.

"Very well,Sonny-boy," she started. "I have one solution, But it will only work if you're actually right."

"If I'm right?" Ranma asked, tilting his head.

"If this," She gestured dismissively at Illyasviel, "Is really just a puppet like the dozens that attacked my village, this solution will not work," Cologne explained. "There won't be anything to fix."

"And how do I know you won't just rig it?" Ranma asked, suspicious.

Ku-Lon chuckled. "Because you are very familiar with it," she answered, cryptically, and then turned to Shampoo, giving her several quick orders. The purple haired girl's eyes widened, and she quickly ran off into the back of the restaurant, and then, by the sound of her footsteps, up to the second floor.

The three watched each other a bit uneasily for the next few seconds, before Shampoo came running back down, holding a heavy clay jar with a top covered in paper wards in her hands as she re-entered the dining room.

"Wait, is that..." Ranma asked, as he studied the foreign characters on the side of the jar.

"I was keeping it in case Shampoo succeeded in her goal," the elder explained. "So that she wouldn't have to return to the village to take care of it if she didn't want to."

"How is this supposed to prove anything?" Ranma asked, looking from the jar to Illyasviel and back.

"Simple," Ku-Lon answered. "The water only works on living things."

"...Huh..." Ranma said, and then seemed to think for a moment. "Y'know, that does sorta make sense."

"You should know, sonny-boy," The elder said, as she accepted and began to open the jar. "I have one of these full of the other water as well. I would be willing to give it to you, but given... recent events," She shot the pigtailed boy an unreadable look, "I can only really afford to part with one."

Ranma's eyes narrowed. "'Course," he snorted. "And if I don't use this to prove Illyasviel Isn't some weird puppet..." He rubbed his forehead. "Just stop playin' games and do it already."

The smaller girl completely failed to follow that last exchange, though as Ranma spoke, Ku-Lon nodded in approval. "What are you planning to do to me?" She asked, eyes shifting nervously.

"If sonny-boy's right, ensure you live past this year," Ku-Lon answered, managing to get the lid of the jar off. Before Illyasviel knew what was happening, its contents were flying towards her. She tried to jump out of the way, but completely failed as she hadn't pulled out her chair when Ranma had.

As the liquid hit her, a tingling sensation spread all over her body, steadily increasing to the point that it almost started to hurt. ...And then, it went past that point. She felt like she was burning alive, and she opened her mouth to try and scream, but it was blocked.

She couldn't breathe, and something was trying to claw its way out of her throat. Instinctively, her hands reached up to the outside of her neck, clawing back the other way. "Ol' ghoul, what the hell did you do?!" She heard Ranma's enraged yell only distantly as her vision became hazy. Something slammed into her stomach, and she was lifted out of her chair, her whole body tightly constricted.

As her vision continued to fade, the blurred world around her was replaced by a mud covered face, thwarted rage radiating from it like a hot wind. And then, everything stopped. She was laying on the floor. Her head was being cradled in someone's lap. "Get that door open!" Ku-Lon yelled, followed by a loud crash and a flash of light.

"What... What happened?" She croaked, her voice scratchy and raw, her throat still very sore.

"Sh- Shampoo no know," The voice came from above her, and she looked up to realize that she was in the purple haired girl's lap. When she turned her head to the direction of the crash she saw Ranma and Ku-Lon re-entering the restaurant, the front door knocked off of its hinges.

"Sonny-boy was both right and wrong," Ku-Lon answered, her face noticably paler than it had been before. "You are, indeed, a living person, but there was something within you that needed to be destroyed."

"Wanna cut the cryptic crap?" Ranma asked. "What was that?"

"It was a part of her body that was incompatible with the human form, and impossible to change," the elder explained. "Leaving it where it was would have killed her, so the water... expelled it."

"The lesser grail," Illyasviel said, softly, reaching up to put a hand over one side of her chest. That had to be it, and yet, she could still feel a beat there, along with... other things. Her hand squeezed, confused, but the lump of flesh she felt wasn't going anywhere. Sitting so rapidly that her head spun, she looked down at her body, or what had been her body. It was almost entirely unrecognizable, Most of her clothing had been torn to very small shreds, barely enough of her winter dress clinging to her to keep a tiny bit of modesty. Beneath it, a fully formed woman's body had replaced her eternally childish frame. "I... what? How is..." She stammered, looking around frantically.

"That's... kinda what I wanna know," Ranma said, flushing and looking away. "Why'd the water age her up? It didn't do that with me."

"It... shouldn't," Ku-Lon said, puzzled. "I suppose it could be a matter of the difference in lifespan between a homunculus and a human, but if that was it she should be a lot older."

"I... don't think that's it," Illyasviel shook her head as thought slowly returned. They had said 'transformation' before, and mentioned the differences between a Homunculus and a human. Looking down at her body, and then her hands, once again, she noticed that her skin had darkened several shades, no longer nearly ghostly-pale, and a lock of hair that fell over her forehead looked to be black. It was impossible, a true sorcery, to transform a homunculus into a human being, but... "I'm eighteen years old," she explained. "My appearance was a result of how I was created, and the enhancements that were performed later."

"I... huh," Ranma said, turning back to glance at her and then immediately spinning to face the wall again. "Somebody wanna get her some clothes?"

"Shampoo, if you would?" Ku-Lon gestured to the purple haired girl, who was standing herself. "I have a few things to discuss with Sonny-boy, here."

"Yes, great-grandmother," Shampoo said, giving Illyasviel an unreadable look. "Follow, please."

The formerly white haired girl nodded, following the young Amazon as well as she could, though she was very unsteady on her feet.

HR.

"I really didn't expect things to turn out like that," Ranma said, leaning casually against the wall next to the front door of the Neko-Hanten.

"Since when has anything related to you gone as expected?" Cologne grumbled back, watching the Einzbern girl finally get up the stairs. "You can look now, by the way."

Ranma nodded, turning from the window. "I'm glad that worked out," he started. "Not sure fightin' you'd work out too well."

The Amazon elder cackled at the understatement. She was confident that she could still beat the younger martial artist, but the property damage would be… extreme.

"Still not sure how this really helps, though," he continued. "I mean, sure, she's great now, but one cup of hot water and she's back to havin' a year to live."

"Not exactly," Cologne shook her head. At Ranma's blank look, she explained. "Whatever it was she rejected earlier, I wouldn't be surprised if it was an important part of her Homunculus body, especially since she reached for her heart when thinking about it. Even if that weren't the case, the same result would happen within a year."

"Which is..." Ranma said, slowly.

The old woman snorted at the boy's denseness. "Have you ever wondered why I'm not worried about Shampoo or Mousse having curses that turn them into much shorter-lived animals? If Mousse were stuck with his duck form's lifespan, he would have less than a decade to live, for example, but he won't. When his duck form gets old enough to die of natural causes, the curse will simply stop working. No one's really sure why, but Jusenkyo seems to go out of its way to keep its victims alive. If you would live in your current form, but die in the other, the curse locks."

Cologne struggled not to laugh as she tracked Ranma's expressions. First confusion, then understanding, then excitement, followed by annoyance. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of letting him know that women lived, on average, longer than men, but decided that he'd already disappointed himself enough.

"Putting that aside for the moment, though," the white haired woman stood more straight on her staff, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "There's something else we need to talk about." Ranma nodded, but didn't say anything, apparently picking up on her serious attitude. "As I said earlier, Shampoo is no longer pursuing you due to the fact that you're a mage. The information we obtained from the one we captured when they attacked the village was... unsettling."

She shook her head, trying to banish old memories. "Since you're fighting in the Holy Grail War, you're going to interact with them more often. I'm sure what the village's other elders would advise me to do is kill you, or at least use the Xi Fa Xiang Gao to remove any memory of us, but I doubt you'd submit to that."

"I ain't lettin' you screw with my memories," Ranma confirmed, and then his eyes widened. "Shit, Shampoo...!" He was stopped from dashing up the stairs as Cologne raised her staff.

"We aren't stupid, Son-in-law, that technique leaves obvious traces that you would be able to detect. The Einzbern girl is fine." The elder explained patiently. "She hasn't learned much, and what she has learned won't match her family's records, even if she did go back to them after what was done to her."

"Right, sorry," Ranma took a breath. "So what do you want from me?"

"I simply want you to swear that you won't tell anyone, especially mages, about Jusendo valley, any of its residents, or the springs," Cologne laid out her terms clearly.

Ranma paused, thinking for a moment, the expression on his face changing too quickly to easily read. "Yeah, I think I get it," he said, nodding. "I wouldn't want any clocktower weirdoes showin' up to make trouble. I swear on my honor as a martial artist, I won't tell anyone about the valley, Jusenkyo or anyone there."

The elder nodded, satisfied, especially as she heard his comment about clocktower. Apparently he'd already heard some things. "That is acceptable."

The two of them paused for a few moments, Ranma slowly looking around the restaurant. "I can still remember that time you had me runnin' around this place in a stupid waitress outfit," he said, suddenly.

"The Amaguriken," She nodded, a small smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. "You know the customers missed you when you left."

"I just..." the pigtailed martial artist huffed. "I guess you're gunna take off?" At Cologne's nod, he frowned. He looked like he was about to say something, but was stopped by Shampoo walking a still unsteady looking Illyasviel down the stairs. The former Homunculus wore one of the purple haired amazon's pink track-suits, sans-armor, and Ranma couldn't help checking her hair, which was still slightly tangled and bedraggled from their mad run across Fuyuki's rooftops.

"You feelin' okay?" He asked, noticing that the dark haired girl seemed almost stunned, still glancing down at her hands as she opened and closed them.

"I... uh, yes," she said, as if snapped out of a trance.

"Shampoo think she getting used to change," the purple haired Amazon offered. "When get to room, she just stare into mirror for half a minute."

"I... I look like..." Illyasviel raised one hand, running it down one cheek.

"I've gotta go talk to my mom about somethin'," Ranma offered. "You can stay here, if you aren't up ta movin'."

"N-no!" The former Homunculus said, obviously trying to pull herself together. "I would rather go with you and get back to Fuyuki as quickly as possible."

"Shampoo not sure is good idea..." The younger amazon raised one hand to her mouth. "Not sure Kitchen Destroyer be happy with new girl." For a moment, a smug grin spread across the girl's face, before she seemed to flinch, the expression quickly dropping.

"That ain't..." Ranma started, before glancing at Illyasviel. "Right, she ain't a kid anymore, huh?" He shifted, a bit nervous. "I only gotta talk to mom anyhow, maybe I can avoid waking her?"

No one commented on that, so he turned to the door, gesturing for Illyasviel to follow.

HR.

The trip to the Tendo dojo was unusually quiet, compared to the rest of the trips that night. Ranma wasn't sure what to talk about, and noticed that occasionally, Illyasviel would pass by a store with a reflective window near a streetlight, and flinch at her own reflection. He wanted to ask what that was about, but could, sort of, understand. He'd jumped every time he'd seen a mirror as a girl for a few months, too.

"You get used to it," he offered. "The curse seems to handle most basic stuff, but I'd be careful if you try ta dance, or somethin'."

"That's not it," Illyasviel disagreed. Ranma didn't respond, but he couldn't help looking at her questioningly. "My mother," the girl said, quietly. "I look so much like her."

"Oh," Ranma replied, simply, unsure how else to react. After a few seconds of silence, he continued on, letting the girl's occasional continued stops go without comment. As the two turned onto the street in front of the dojo, apprehension began to creep up on him. This should be easy, all he had to do was sneak into the room where he, his father and his mother slept, wake the woman and talk to her, but things very rarely went to plan in Nerima.

"Wait out here, okay?" He asked, as the two came to the Tendo compound's front gates. Illyasviel silently nodded, and he leapt over the wall into the front yard. He flinched slightly as he felt a soft tingling against his skin, something nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't remember what it was. Moving to the garden and pond at the side of the house, he stopped dead as he saw his father standing on the porch outside of the dining room, the Tendo family and his mother sitting around the dining table.

"Boy," the older martial artist grunted, adjusting his glasses as Akane leapt up from the table behind him.

The fleeting thought that he never should have hoped this would go smoothly flitted through Ranma's mind as he looked back in surprise. "Why's everybody up so late?" He asked, blinking in confusion.

"That's what I want to know," a tired looking Nabiki grumbled from the dining table.

"Saotome seems to think there's something strange happening," Mr. Tendo explained, and Ranma blinked, realizing that the mustached man was holding a polished Naginata across his knees.

"Well, given that Ranma just showed up from his month long training trip a week early, I'm starting to wonder," the middle Tendo daughter observed.

"Boy, did you see anything strange on your way here?" Genma asked, fixing the pigtailed martial artist with an intent stare.

Ranma wanted to laugh. Over the past few days, coming back to Nerima had been about the most normal thing that had happened, but his father looked serious. "Like what?" He asked, guardedly.

"People with strange glowing lines on their skin, energy attacks that didn't seem like chi... giant blasts of light, unusually large insects," Genma said, gesturing. "Anything strange."

"Lines, huh?" Ranma asked, concentrating. "Ya' mean like this?" His skin warmed slightly as mana spread through his body, the world losing a bit of detail.

"R-Ranma?" The boy's mother stammered, her eyes wide. Genma, on the other hand, merely sighed.

"Wait, so you're the one?" The pigtailed martial artist tilted his head. "Coulda sworn it'd have been Mom. Rin said somethin' about magus families bein' really old and stuff."

"It's a long story," his father said, looking cautious. "How did you find out?"

"'s also kinda a long story," Ranma shrugged back. "But that weird thing, it wouldn't have come from the middle of town, 'round the shopping district, did it?"

Genma looked surprised for a moment, but then nodded.

"Shoulda figured that would've gotten some attention," Ranma muttered, remembering for a moment the strange, pulsating glob of flesh that Illyasviel had coughed up during her transformation, Cologne immediately throwing it, and the table it was on, through the Nekohanten's front door before it had exploded in a pillar of dark energy that had nearly made every chi sensitive person in the restaurant sick. "Don't worry, we took care of it."

"With how much magic was released, I'm going to need more than that," Genma answered cautiously.

Ranma's gaze flicked nervously to Akane for a moment, but he had to admit his father had a point. "Okay," he said, reluctantly. "But I need to get someone from outside first. She's sorta involved."

"She?" Nabiki asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It ain't what anyone's thinkin'!" Ranma said, hurriedly. "A bunch of people are after her, so I took her to Cologne to get some advice, and..." He just sighed, turning and heading for the gate.

When he opened it, he noticed that Illyasviel was studying the sign next to the door intently. Turning to him, she pointed a thumb at it. "Savage combat?"

"Nobody ever listens to that sign," Ranma grumbled. Ignoring her dubious look, he continued, "Turns out everyone was already waiting for us. I gotta explain. Could use your help."

Illyasviel nodded, following him back into the compound. When the two came back around the corner, the Tendo family and Ranma's mother had moved from the table to stand at the porch door, Soun taking up a position next to Genma. When the formerly white haired girl came into view, Akane started rubbing her forehead, and Nabiki smirked.

All eyes were focussed on her, and she shifted uncomfortably for a moment before giving a short bow, hands stretched a bit to the sides as if gripping something. "Hello, I am Illyasviel Von Einzbern," she stated, clearly.

"Von... what?" Genma asked, his tone very flat before his expression twisted into a look of rage. "Boy, what the hell did you-" Ranma's foot slammed into his face, interrupting him mid-rant.

"Been gettin' that reaction a lot tonight," he said, casually. "I'd be more likely ta let you yell if you'd told me anythin' about this before."

"You know this girl, Saotome?" Mr. Tendo asked, his tone ominous.

"Sao- Erm, Ranma said she wasn't what we were thinking," Nabiki smirked. "I guess that would mean she's not a new fiancee."

Genma straightened his glasses, trying to regain some dignity after Ranma lowered his foot. "I don't know her, exactly, though I do know of her family." He looked the girl over, his face taking on a confused expression. "She doesn't really look like one of the Einzberns' dolls, though."

"That's kinda what caused the explosion," Ranma answered. "I found out her family had done some crap to her to turn her into a grail vessel or somethin'. The ol' ghoul's solution worked, but..." He gestured, miming an explosion with his hands.

"The grail..." Ranma noted that this confrontation was starting to distinctly resemble the one with Cologne, and distantly wondered if everyone else knew way more about this magic stuff than he did.

"Yeah, the one in Fuyuki," Ranma interrupted. "I got picked to be a master in the war." The response to this statement, however, was much different from Cologne's annoyed resignation. His father paled noticeably, a horrified expression spreading across his face as his stance faltered slightly.

"You went to Fuyuki?" He asked, his voice unsteady. "And that Rin you mentioned... that was Rin Tohsaka,..."

"Saotome, old friend?" Soun asked, tentatively, moving a hand off of his blade to rest it on the balding man's shoulder.

"This.. this can't..." Genma stammered, his eyes moving like those of a hunted animal. "This doesn't make sense!" He roared, shrugging Soun's hand off. "There can't be a grail war now! The fourth was only ten years ago, it can't..."

"The grail was destroyed before it could fully manifest ten years ago," Illyasviel explained. "Most of the mana was unspent, so it took much less time to recharge."

Ranma glanced at Illyasviel, surprised. When Rin had explained the details of the grail war, she'd admitted that she had no idea why it was starting up so soon. Then again, he supposed someone who had housed part of the thing probably knew a few extra things about it.

"I... I see," Genma said, clearly attempting to regain his composure. He lifted his face so that the light from the living room reflected off of his glasses, though Ranma noted that he was still shaking. "Boy, I'm sure you were told about the grail granting any wish, but it's far too dangerous!" He began, in his 'wise old master' voice. "Our curses may be a terrible affliction, but-"

"I ain't tryin' to get the wish, ol' man," Ranma interrupted. "Besides, I think the ol' ghoul's trick might've just broke it." He glanced over at the newly black haired girl questioningly.

"It... probably did," She replied, eyes widening in realization. "Without the lesser grail, there would be nowhere for the Servants' mana to concentrate."

"There, you see?" Genma continued, letting out a forced laugh. "Then there's no reason to go back there!"

Ranma actually nodded. "You've sorta got a point," he admitted. "But I've gotta take Illyasviel back, and there's some other stuff goin' on, too."

"Um, that's nice and everything," Nabiki interjected, "But what is all of this? What are you two talking about?"

"It's kinda hard to explain..." Ranma said, looking uncertainly between the curious and mildly worried expressions of most of the Tendo family.

"And you don't need to," Genma said, authoritatively. "You aren't going back."

"Old man, what the hell's wrong with you?" Ranma snapped, noting that despite his father's commanding tone, his face was still pale, forehead slick with sweat. "Even without the grail, I gotta make sure Shiro and Rin made it out, and there're a couple crazy sword-throwing guys wanderin' around." He winced, noticing Illyasviel flinch out of the corner of his eye, but continued regardless. "This seems right up the alley of a martial artist's duty."

"To hell with a martial artist's duty!" Genma roared.

Nabiki and Kasumi just flinched at the volume of the yell, but Akane's eyes widened, and both Ranma and Soun looked completely shocked. "Ol' man?" The pigtailed martial artist asked, faintly. In the past, his father had passed the buck to him to deal with a situation, or tried to downplay it so that he didn't have to deal with it, but he'd never outright disregarded the concept of the duty of a martial artist.

Genma took a deep breath, glancing around as if realizing what he'd just said. "Boy," he started again, in a less over-the-top tone. "That city is full of mages, and with a grail war on, Servants. You cannot take on a Servant in a fight, and you know it. If you go back there, you will die. Besides..." He took another, shakier breath. "There are things there... that you can't let find you."

"Things?" Ranma asked, surprised at his father's more straight explanation. "What're you talking about?"

"I..." Genma started, and then gulped. "I can't tell you. Just believe me, you can't go back there!"

"Saotome," Soun started. "Is this about how you..." He was stopped in his tracks by the balding man's glare.

"Look, Pop," Ranma started, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I got stuff I gotta do there, and believe me, I know how tough Servants are already. If you ain't gunna tell me what this other thing is, I'm goin' back."

"Damn it, boy..." Genma growled, and Ranma blinked as he noticed a glimmer of blue light peeking out from under the older man's gi top. He cursed, trying to leap away, only to find his feet stuck fast to the ground, a soft blue lattice of magical energy spreading out from them.

"What the.." He started, managing to yank one foot free as the older man lowered his glasses, light spreading up through a set of flickering magic circuits that ran across the side of his cheek, collecting in his pale blue eyes, the reflection shining off of the top of the steel frames.

"Remember."

HR. (!)

"Please... no more..." He begged, weakly. There was no response from the figure behind him, who merely pushed him forward. The ropes binding his arms threw off his balance, and he fell heavily to the stone floor at the top edge of the darkened pit. He rolled slightly as he fell, looking up into the flat, emotionless eyes of the man who had brought him here. His own father stared back, or at least, the man who had been his father. "I... I can't..." He croaked. "I can't take this anymore, please..."

"Karasuya..." The older man said, his voice firm and uncompromising. "You are the heir of the Matou crest. This is your responsibility'

"I..." He stammered, and then caught a flash of movement behind his father. Someone was peeking in at them from behind the door, black hair and scared brown eyes the only things visible.

"I... Yes... Father..." He managed to spit the words out, even as panic clawed its way up from his chest. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this. Not again! He didn't move as his father's foot impacted his side, sending him rolling. As he fell over the edge into the darkness, he could see it writhing, almost eager.

On impact there were several loud cracks and pops, and he let out a tiny, terrified giggle. He knew that several of the little bastards had been crushed by his weight, though he also knew that the amusement was short lived. The rest reacted to his sudden weight and body heat, turning as a single mass, support giving way from beneath him as dozens, hundreds, thousands of tiny legs began to crawl over his body.

He kept his eyes and mouth tightly closed, taking short, shallow breaths through his nose. This only held things up for a few moments, however, as the first few sets of pincers found his flesh and began to bite. As if in response, a stirring began within, his magic circuits sputtering open, trickling his mana into the creatures. He involuntarily gasped as one set of pincers found a particularly sensitive spot, and the insects instantly moved to take advantage, several crawling into his open mouth.

As the panic began to overwhelm him, he bit down savagely, crushing several of the insects. This only made things worse, their foul tasting blood forcing him to gag, even as their fellows were drawn to the scent. He began to thrash as much as he could with his limbs bound, trying to scream even as more of the creatures forced their way into his body, to join those already there.

'Please! Father! I'm sorry, I can't, please! Let me out!' He wanted to scream, but couldn't, the pleas only rattling around in his own head. 'Let me out! I need to get out! Got to get out! No more please! Let me out!" The unspoken words got more and more frantic as the insects continued their assault, and then... it stopped.

HR.

"Ranma!"

"A-Akane?" The world changed so quickly it almost didn't register. Suddenly, he was laying in the grassy yard of the Tendo compound, the light almost blinding as a terrified Akane looked down at him.

"Ranma? Are you... what happened to you?!" She demanded, even as he could feel her shaking hands firmly holding down his arms, one leg pinned across both of his.

"I don't..." He tried to figure out what was going on, even as the phantom sensation of limbs crawling over his body slowly faded away. "What happened to your cheek?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, uh..." She laughed a little nervously. "You were sort of... flailing."

"Oh..." Ranma winced. At least that explained why she was pinning him down.

"I warned her not to approach you until you had calmed down." That voice was Illyasviel's, and she was apparently standing behind Akane, holding some sort of white glowing object in her hands.

"Wha..." Ranma struggled for a moment, trying to sit without thinking, before Akane released his arms, climbing off of him. He sat up rapidly, his head only spinning slightly as he looked around. Both of the girls were with him on the lawn, while Mr. Tendo was now standing in front of Nabiki, Kasumi and his shocked looking mother, glancing around with uncertainty. The table they'd been sitting at was gone, and the martial artist wondered about that for a moment before noticing it splintered and snapped in half on the porch. One half lay near a glaring Genma, who was tied up with white, glowing rope and had a lightly bleeding gash on the side of his head.

"What... happened here?" He asked, blinking slowly.

Akane grimaced, clearly understanding what he was doing, but seemed to decide not to fight him over it. "Your father did... something... to you," she began. "His eyes started glowing, and then you fell down and started screaming." She shuddered. "It was like you were being tortured. I've never seen anyone... I mean, and then... I just acted without thinking."

"She attacked your father with the dining table," Illyasviel offered.

"Yeah," Ranma nodded. "That was..." He shied away from the memory. "The hell was that?" He asked. "It was... way worse than the Nekoken."

Hauling himself the rest of the way to his feet, Ranma walked over to where Genma was tied. "Ol' man, what did you just do?" He demanded. "I'd have remembered trainin' like that, it was..."

"You weren't the one who was trained," Genma interrupted, eyes downcast. "What you experienced was my memory."

"What?" Ranma asked, flatly, though as he thought about it, it did sort of make sense. It hadn't really seemed like him in the memory. He'd thought of the man who kicked him into the pit as father, though aside from both being bald, he didn't look much like his actual father. His body had also felt a bit off, even before things had gotten bad, and the name... "Wait, that guy wasn't you, his name was Kara... somethin'."

"Karasuya," Genma said, his eyes still downcast. "Karasuya Matou. I changed my name before I married your mother."

Ranma glanced over to the auburn haired woman, who nodded silently, still evidently shaken.

"Okay..." Ranma said, slowly. "So then why'd you shove one of your own memories into my head? And what the hell WAS that?"

"I did it when you were a lot younger, actually," Genma admitted. "I'm not a very good mage. No one in our family was, but mental magic was low-power enough that I could do it well enough. As for why I did it, it's because I needed you to put everything you had into training."

"Huh?" Ranma asked, blinking.

"I buried that memory in your subconscious," the older man explained. "Then I tied it to the concept of failure in the martial arts."

"That is rather clever," Illyasviel interjected, her expression hard to read.

"What's he talkin' about?" Ranma asked, looking at her, confused.

"He's saying that the vision he just showed you has always been in the back of your mind, even when you didn't know about it," the former homunculus explained. "Given how you reacted to it, it must be very painful or distressing, and every time you thought about failing as a martial artist, the feelings from that memory would emerge."

"Husband..." Nodoka said, quietly. "How could you..."

"Because he needed to know!" Genma growled angrily, raising his head and glaring around as he strained at the magically reinforced rope Illyasviel held. "He needed to know what would happen if he wasn't strong enough."

"Saotome, you wouldn't..." Mr. Tendo asked, looking nervous.

"Of course not!" The bald man snapped back. "But you don't understand... The Matou family's magecraft has been declining for centuries. Our magic circuits get weaker with each generation. I was the heir, because I was the best we could do!"

"But Ranma's a much stronger mage than you are," Illyasviel realized.

"Exactly," Genma agreed. "And I have absolutely no idea why. But if my father found out that the boy existed, he'd stop at nothing to make him into the new family heir."

"And your old man's in Fuyuki," Ranma realized. "Rin mentioned that the three families that created the grail war were hers, the Einzberns, and the Matous."

"The Tohsaka girl talks too much..." Genma grumbled under his breath, before continuing more loudly, "That's right, and that's why you can never return to that city! Now you've seen it, you know what he'll do to you!"

"What he'll try," Ranma shook his head. He knew what his response should be. It had been his response to any challenge or threat for his entire life, but something seemed different, this time. "He ain't gunna lay a hand on me." The smirk didn't come readily to his lips, as it usually did. There was no thrill of excitement over the prospect of fighting a new opponent, learning new techniques, or punching an eminently punchable face.

"Ranma?" Akane asked, her eyes full of concern.

"Don't be a fool, boy..." His father growled, redoubling his efforts at escaping his binds. "I didn't spend all of this time training you just so you could run back into his hands!"

'To hell with a martial artist's duty!' His father's previous outburst ran through Ranma's mind, stopping his retort cold. "I-is that..." he stammered, eyes wide. "The whole training trip, everything... was all of it just because of that?" It seemed absurd. It'd been the main goal of his entire life, the culmination of all of his father's efforts.

Even still, the new information seemed to fit disturbingly well with certain aspects of the Saotome variant of the anything goes school. Just as the basic explanations of magic he'd received only days before had thrown the problem he'd had with his chi reserves into an entirely different light, his mind inexorably began filling in gaps within his own style. The focus on mobility and retreat, stealth and subterfuge. Ukyo had once compared it, jokingly, to her family's form of food-based Ninjutsu. He'd been trained for his entire life to use it, but when he thought about it Genma's build and strength would have naturally favoured the Tendo school's more straight forward art. ...if he'd actually been interested in fighting.

"is... is that really the point of all this? To find a better way to run away?" He demanded, his voice shaking. "The... the Saotome secret technique, right?"

"Boy?" His father asked, uncertainly.

"There's one thing I think you forgot, ol' man," Ranma continued. "opposition. You're supposed to think of a plan, turn around and come back! Did you ever intend to go back and stop this guy?"

Genma flinched. "I-I couldn't, it's impossible! What he did to Kariya... it wasn't..."

"Coward!" The blow was lightning fast and vicious, Ranma's leg coated in roiling red chi as it impacted with his father's chest, Illyasviel crying out in surprise as the mystic bind she was holding tore free from her hands. The human projectile flew through the wall next to the porch doors, not even touching the ground in the living room before smashing through the other wall. Ranma started forward, before a hand landed firmly on his shoulder. He turned angrily, only to see Mr. Tendo looking at him.

"I think that's enough, son," the older man said, firmly. Ranma raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I understand why you're so angry, but you aren't going to put another hole in my house tonight."

"You understand, huh?" Ranma asked, snorting.

"Yes, I do," Mr. Tendo replied, calmly. "And I'm going to have a long, pointed talk with my old friend."

"Yeah..." Ranma paused for a moment, before his shoulders slumped. Turning, he gestured at Illyasviel. "C'mon, we're going back."

The girl tilted her head, confused, but said nothing as the two started for the front gate.

"Wait!" Ranma turned to see Akane running up to him. "What your father said," she started. "This Fuyuki place is pretty dangerous. you could use some-"

"You ain't comin'," Ranma cut her off, bluntly. "What the old man said was right in a couple ways," he admitted reluctantly, even as the blue-black haired girl's fists clenched. "Mages got plenty of ways to take advantage of someone who ain't got magic, like he did with me. And that's not even gettin' into the Servants. If the wrong one decided I needed to die, I probably couldn't do much about it."

"You... you're admitting that?" The youngest Tendo daughter stammered, obviously shaken.

"Yeah," Ranma nodded. "It's pretty bad."

The girl looked between him and the hole his father had made in the house's wall for a moment, before taking a deep breath. "Then you shouldn't go back, either! If you've got a good chance of dying there, then..." She trailed off, tears starting to well in her eyes.

The pigtailed martial artist shifted uncomfortably. "Like I said to the ol' man, I've got stuff to do there," he said, not looking directly at the girl. "Besides, now I gotta go find out what's really goin' on with the Matou family."

"Is that so important that you'd be willing to die over it?" Akane asked, angrily.

"It's the only thing that's important!" He yelled back, and then stopped, surprised. He wasn't sure where that had come from. It sounded like an ineffectual, over-dramatic protest, but... it also felt true. He'd just learned that the art he'd spent his entire life mastering was just a way for his father to run faster, and there wasn't really much to his life besides that. The grail war that he'd willingly decided to participate in, which couldn't possibly be part of his father's plans-

"So I- We... Everyone here, we're not important?" Akane asked, and Ranma realized that he'd screwed up. Her eyes were no longer welling with tears, and worse yet, she wasn't getting angry. She looked completely devastated.

"I... that..." he stammered, completely caught off guard, but she cut him off before he could continue floundering.

"Don't just babble something to make me feel better!" She yelled. "Answer me, is this more important than all of us?"

He opened his mouth again, but the words caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say? She wanted the truth, and the truth was obvious. It would hurt, but then she wouldn't chase him and almost get herself killed. All he had to do was say it. The silence sat heavily between them for an uncertain moment, before another voice interrupted.

"It doesn't really matter." Both turned to Illyasviel, who was looking at them cooly, her arms crossed.

"What?!" Akane demanded. "You stay out of this!"

"No," Illyasviel said, casually. "I'm afraid Mr. Ranma has no choice at this point."

"Huh?" Ranma asked.

"It's simple," Illyasviel said, swaying slightly back and forth. "You changed me," she gestured at herself with one hand, "and destroyed the grail's vessel. My family, and possibly other magi will definitely look into that. If you let me go back to Fuyuki by myself and I'm captured, enough analysis and hypnosis will inevitably result in me giving up your location. If you keep me here, they'll just track me down."

Ranma paled. "And the Tendo family ain't mages..." His conversation with Rin about Ms. Fujimura came to mind.

"They would likely kill them if they resisted," Illyasviel nodded. "So you see, you have no choice." As she explained, her voice had gained a sing-song, lilting tone that probably would have sounded cute if she still looked like a small child, but now sounded incredibly patronizing.

"Do you have to be so damned happy about it?!" Akane demanded, clenching her teeth.

"Why not?" Illyasviel continued, her lips splitting into a cruel smile. "You can't do anything about it." As Akane roared in outrage, the taller girl's dark eyes flashed a strange purple color, locking onto hers. The angry martial artist froze in mid-lunge, and then toppled sideways.

"Stop it!" Ranma demanded, angrily. Illyasviel shrugged, the glow dissipating. "Akane, I..." The pigtailed martial artist started, reaching out one hand.

"Just... go..." The blue-black haired girl lay , unmoving, curled in on herself where she'd fallen. Ranma flinched at the tone of her voice. If he'd thought she'd sounded bad before, this was a whole other level. He stepped forward, trying to think of something to do, only for her to repeat, much more loudly, "Just go!"

Turning, he slowly exited the Tendo compound, the gate closing behind him with a booming thud, and Illyasviel keeping pace at his side. The two made it almost half a block, before he spun to face her, glaring. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Because you were going to say yes."

All of the indignation seemed to flow out of him at this simple pronouncement. "I... I was," he admitted.

"It's obvious you didn't want to," the girl continued. "You don't want that girl to hate you. I, on the other hand, don't care. She can hate me to her heart's content."

He just stood, stunned for a moment, before the enormity of the night's events settled on him. Over less than twenty minutes, absolutely everything had gone to hell, and he was still unsure how.

{"Ranma?"} Ryoga's voice cut through the pigtailed martial artist's spiralling thoughts, almost causing him to jump. The Servant sounded worried, almost panicked.

{"Yeah?"} He returned, wondering how things could possibly get worse.

Fortunately, the tension seemed to bleed out of Ryoga's mental impression as he responded. {"What's going on over there?"}

The pigtailed martial artist almost wanted to laugh, in spite of everything. He could just imagine the Lost One's reaction if he were told the truth. {"Nothin'. Everything's fine, and me 'n Illyasviel are fine. Tell Rin I'm sorry about the damage to her place, but we got it sorted out."}

{"Are you sure?"} Ryoga asked, suspiciously.

{"Yeah. We're on our way back. Is Saber okay?"} Ranma changed the subject.

{"I think so,"} Ryoga returned, {"We'll talk back at Rin's house."}

'The heck does that mean?' Ranma thought, but decided not to ask his Servant. Instead, he just turned for the train station.

HR.

In a small, darkened bedroom, a figure tossed restlessly. Dreams, never too pleasant to begin with, gave way to a strange, uncomfortable feeling, body flushing, pulse quickening as the shadows nearby began to darken subtly. Grumbling, the figure turned once more in an attempt to get more comfortable, the light of the moon falling on mussed, purple hair.

END.

Taiga Dojo!

"So, this was... uh... a tone shift, huh?"

"Hey, let's not talk about that, how about you explain why I'm still so small?! I didn't get that upgrade at all!"

"After this chapter, that's what you're worried about?! Well, at least it's an easy one. That Illya and you are two different characters. For one, you're a lot simpler. If she were like you, this chapter would probably have been out half a year ago!"

"What's that supposed to mean?! I'm not simple, I've got a complex inner being and-"

"You're a gag character, remember? We've been over this."

"No fair."

Illya pouts in a corner.

"Anyhow, hi folks! So yeah... the tone shift here... A couple of chapters back, I noted that since this was a Ranma fic, my character in the fic got adjusted to be a bit more badass. Unfortunately that sorta cuts both ways. This fic is also part nasuverse Visual Novel, and Ranma's the protagonist, so... hey, at least he's not as bad off as Shiki?"

"Another thing the author'd like me to bring up is Ranma's Matou ancestry. See, we've been using a plotpoint here that we THINK is correct, but a few recent references seem to imply there's something more going on. We like to be clear on what we're changing for the story, so here's some clarification. The Matou family is said to have been 'cursed' by Fuyuki city's land or layline, which is why their magic has been declining. This fic takes that explanation as canon, even though the author thinks it MIGHT not be, in the end. He's unsure. Also indecisive, a procrastinator, and"

A shinai falls from the top of the screen and bonks Taiga on the head.

"Right... ahem... Ranma's escaped the curse on the Matous due to 1, not being born in Fuyuki, and 2, not having the Matou family name. This results in all of their careful breeding and other attempts to slow down the curse over the years producing a fairly strong magus, so good for him."

"Oh, and finally, the author wrote up a skill he thought you guys might like to take a look at. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to tell us what you think of the chapter!"

Restart: B+ )The Saotome School Secret Technique, Fast Break.)
The ability to escape battle.

It can also return an unfavourable battle to the beginning )turn 1), and restore the conditions of techniques to their initial state.

This Servant's variant of this skill also grants a single small luck bonus to attempts at discernment of opponents' weaknesses, true name, or noble phantasm on resumption of battle with the same opponent.

"The Saotome school of anything goes' most powerful, secret technique, based on the prime principles of motion, contemplation, and opposition... or running away until you can think of a way to defeat your opponent."

F/GO translation.
Disengage B+. (LV 10.)
Heals 2500 HP, removes debuffs and increases generation (One time, one turn.) 5 turn cooldown.

Author Rant.

Inhuman chapter, which has ruined the honor of an author, let my blood taint your dreams! Let the fic be cursed! Let the wish it grants bring disaster! And when you fall into the pits of hell... remember the rage of Weebee!

Ahem... Yeah. I was going to say something a bit more prophain, but I think Diarmuid got my point across better... Normally, when a chapter takes this long, I make a stupid joke, mention something that's been distracting me in a fruitless attempt to deflect away from my procrastination, and move on.

This time, though? I have legitimately been working on this chapter for this long. I've probably riten ten times its actual length in discarded bits. I wrote a cheque with last chapter, and the plot points this one needed to cover, that I absolutely should not have and it bit me in the... well, the entire lower torso, to be honest.

I don't really know if this chapter is any good. I legitimately can't tell anymore. I've reread it and tweaked it and gone over it so many times I can't really parse it anymore, and that's bad because if this chapter flops, I've probably screwed over the entire rest of the story. Just... yeah. Here you go. I really hope it works, and it's good, but if it's not, well... sorry.

Thanks to those who have let me rant at them. Really appreciate it.