Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. The story below is for entertainment purposes only, and not to be used commercially. ...Obviously.
"Learning Curve"
Part II (v1.4)
by: J. Wagner
Cologne sighed to herself as the boulder beneath her swung back, slowly, the supporting branches overhead creaking in protest. Around forty feet away, attached to the same apparatus that held the multi-ton boulder suspended, her student was tied, legs crossed and only one arm, and one finger on that same arm, free. He'd taken to closing his eyes, the Amazon matriarch noted, in regards to the training. The last three days he'd kept his eyes open, often during the impact, in an effort to 'see' the breaking point. Today, however, he'd kept them closed, and seemed a lot calmer and more collected during the exercise, despite her attempts to rile him. The Hibiki boy was powerful, physically, but his emotions were a weak spot - mentioning Akane, Ranma, and the like very easily had predictable and adverse effects on his ability to get better in touch with his ki and what it could do for him.
Cologne tensed a bit as the boulder reached an apex of height, inertia fading, letting gravity take it back down, gaining in speed.
She herself had undergone the training, though with a smaller boulder. Traditionally, the Bakusai Tenketsu was done with a boulder one third the size she was using now, and even then, not as much force was behind it. The training was also stretched out over weeks or months. This, she knew, had little to do with the size of the boulder except for the always-present danger of brain damage that the use of larger, heavier rocks entailed. However, observation of the Lost Boy showed he was capable of surviving the impacts of this size, and likely possessed the skill and conscious experience of Ki manipulation. She had, on the first day, before the first rock collided, told him.
"See not with your eyes."
The boulder shuddered violently as it smashed into the young martial artist. There was a wet thump, and a sharp intake of air as Ryouga pushed off the surface of the training tool. Looking up at her, eyes dark with a likely combination of pain and repressed anger and depression, but most importantly determination, he spat out what she wanted to hear, what she had been drilling into him over the last few days.
"Again!" He screamed, as if addicted to the pain.
"Very well." Cologne tapped her staff on a nearby tree trunk, and the boulder began, again, to creak backwards. Outwardly, she was annoyed at him, and made as much known every few failures. Silently, Cologne was amazed. Before the training had begun, she had tested some of his abilities. He was incredibly strong, this much was his most obvious attribute, but only recently had she gotten an appreciation for what he was capable of. Ranma was also in the mountains training, with Akane, and she had seen Genma-Panda when he came to spy on what was going on here. Since then, she had divided her free time between watching her son-in-law prepare for the upcoming fight, and watching his rival.
The rock began to slow, before stopping entirely, and then moving forward for what seemed like the two hundredth time today.
Cologne had seen, as she planned, Ryouga practicing and training Shampoo before the Bakusai Tenketsu training. This was why she had allowed Shampoo to come, indeed, why she hadn't initially thought of it herself was almost a little embarrassing. Her great granddaughter was a fine Amazon specimen, and an excellent warrior - the best of her generation. However, compared to Ranma, even then, she was virtually nothing. This, coupled with Shampoo's disillusionment and eventual acceptance of her defeat, began what Cologne knew was the gradual fading of her warrior spirit. Cologne was not one to offer training except in special cases; hence she had been hesitant to directly confront her protégé with her concerns. By tradition, Shampoo would have to ask her, not the other way around.
Another sickening splat.
The boulder shook a little this time, and Cologne noted it as a tiny Ki infusion, but incorrectly placed and used. It was almost like... the Blowout Delivery Attack? Cologne smiled inwardly at that. So: he had managed to get a little inspiration from his training partner, and come to the logical conclusion that the attack Shampoo knew was related to the Bakusai Tenketsu. It was a cousin technique, in execution, but still quite different. Mastering one did not instantly grant mastery in the other. But it was a good head start. He was growing remarkably close to 'seeing' the breaking point. Deciding a little goading might help, Cologne put on her heartless martial-arts master voice.
"Why don't you just give up?" She said, coldly, "No progress. No progress at all."
"AGAIN!"
Cologne tapped the trunk in a now well-worn location, and the boulder did as it did. Cologne had also wanted to observe Ryouga's personal abilities, outside of simply carrying orders, as she had for Ranma. Like the Saotome boy, Ryouga practiced a very loose, unrestricted style, that couldn't be properly observed except when used freely. Simply asking him to show her 'what he could do' would accomplish nothing, because it wouldn't actually be how he fought. It had taken a bit longer than she suspected, but when Ryouga began to take on the role of helping Shampoo improve, often indulging in sparring sessions with her, it was the prefect opportunity to see the differences and similarities between her son-in-law and his rival.
"AGAIN!"
And he was so close to finding the breaking point it very nearly amazed her. Cologne had had some hint that Ryouga had experience with Ki Infusion techniques when she checked his clothes and backpack. The former were lighter than expected, and the latter far, far heavier, and not simply due to the number of items stuffed within. Additionally, his umbrella was also mysteriously heavy. The Amazon's suspicious were confirmed when Ryouga, by chance, sent a stray bandanna, one of many apparently, near her when she allowed him to sense her sneaking up on him. Not see: sense. Further, the bandanna had acted like a shuriken, and buried itself deeply into a nearby tree trunk. It was reminiscent of Martial Arts Gymnastics, which Cologne had heard of, but never actually seen. It supposedly infused Ki into gymnastic ribbons to increase the strength of the material, and other properties. It was a strange thought - this Hibiki boy learning, of all things, Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics, which consequently became adapted to his lifestyle and fighting techniques. Like it was in her son-in-law, a single technique could spawn half a dozen improvisations and improvements in a superior martial artist's mind.
A dull thud interrupted her thoughts, followed by something that sounded like...
"aah... again."
She had seen Ranma doing as much to her Kachuu Tenshi Amaguriken, using it to pick off attacking bees before they could sting him in the clearing near where he and his father, a man who obviously held many powerful techniques and abilities behind his clumsy and cowardly exterior, were camped. The Chestnut Fist was, at its heart, simply a speed exercise for the hands, inspired by the ancient Seven Lucky Gods Clan, of which the leader traditionally used Chopsticks in a similar manner. Ranma had learned it in a mere few days, though Cologne admitted she had been reasonably soft on him, due to her inability to accurately gage his level of skill in specific Ki mastery. It was a learning experience for both of them, in a way. Ranma had, apparently, learned it more quickly using fish in water as opposed to actual chestnuts in a fire, which was the normal method, one that often lead to ugly scarring. Ryouga's unfortunate curse had almost made her reconsider using fire, but to her pleasure it had instead proved both motivational and ...entertaining, to say the least.
The rock shook under her feet, and Cologne looked down at the somewhat limp form clinging to the front of the boulder. Inwardly, she realized she should have put some pause into that last swing to give him more time to recover. Ryouga's face was bloodied, one eye slightly swollen, and a slow but steady trickle of dark red blood was flowing out of the corner of his mouth and into a new patch of dried blood beneath his chin. One of many Cologne noted. She'd heard that many Amazons believed the Bukusai Tenketsu was a technique designed either for fanatics and masochists, from watching the comparatively pitiful displays of its training regimen back at the village. Sighing, she looked at where Ryouga's finger had hit the boulder at an off angle, and saw a tiny dark Ki signature lingering in the rock, barely breaking the surface, and barely visible.
She knew, then, that he'd have it mastered by tomorrow, probably after only another hour or two. Cologne smiled at the thought. When he was fully healed, after the training was complete, he would be practically immune to any physical attack her son-in-law could bring against him. Though the technique didn't work on organic targets, of which Cologne was sure Ryouga knew... or would certainly know once he mastered it, it built endurance, toughness and strength to insane levels. Coupled with his growing, but still more incremental, success with the Amaguriken, the two would make an unbeatable combination when used against her son-in-law. That Tendo-girl, Akane, would be Ryouga's prize, because it was obvious he was infatuated with her, and Ranma, who never appeared to have any feeling for the girl, would become Shampoo's... if only because the boy would need her great grandmother to teach him a technique to defeat his rival. And if he didn't, there was always Plan B.
"We'll stop here for tonight." Cologne reached out with her staff and undid the main knot of the harness around Ryouga. He fell into the ground, breathing but not moving.
"What... what a familiar view," he finally spoke, looking up at the blood stained boulder. Then, very slowly, he smiled.
***
Present.
"Two things about Hawaii. One good, one bad."
"Oh? What's that?"
"One. It's an island," Ryouga shifted the strap on his shoulder a bit.
"And Two?"
"Two. It's an island," The lost boy said, nodding to himself. It had been just over a week since he landed in Hawaii, the large island. He'd ended up on a ship to Maui, and another one back, he thought, while looking for Gate 46, which had, the week before, been the location of the next flight to Tokyo. Unfortunately, the island seemed to have an insane range of climates and locales stuffed into its meager 4000 something square miles, making him even more lost and directionless than usual. Currently, he was in a small café, overlooking the ocean, feeling just a little more depressed than usual.
"Another coffee," he ordered. "No cream. Same as before. Dark as the night."
"Right." The woman turned and started making the drink, when Ryouga spoke up again.
"I... I know this is going to sound stupid, but... where am I?"
She looked over her shoulder. "What do ya mean?"
"I mean, where am I? Exactly?" Ryouga hated asking for directions, especially from women, but it was a necessity. Though they rarely helped, it usually at least gave him some reference point for the future, and some handle on where to go next. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was on the large island anymore. "I'm kind of looking for an airport."
"You're on the Kona Coast, honey. Keahole Airport is about 20 minutes from here."
"20 minutes?" Ryouga smiled, just a little. 20 minutes driving time was about 40 minutes jogging at a fairly casual pace for him, but that was only if he got lucky and didn't get lost.
"Yep." She handed him his drink, and Ryouga put down the required cash. At least he knew he was in the United States, and had a handy emergency supply of the appropriate money. "Just head down the I-11. The Interstate. It goes right there."
"Good! Thanks!" Ryouga totally ignored the heat of the coffee. He was almost used to being splashed by boiling water, drinking some of it wasn't a problem. Silently, he savored the drink. The western world seemed to love their coffee, and he didn't mind it occasionally himself. He'd only gotten two hours sleep yesterday in his effort to get out of a volcanic type area as quickly as possible, and the coffee was a welcome relief when he could find it.
"Oh no," the woman at the café said, and Ryouga looked in the direction she seemed to be concerned by. A trio of men, dressed somewhat unusually, had walked in. They sported loose jeans, and fairly colorful T-shirts, the words on one of which Ryouga didn't recognize: likely some slang term he hadn't picked up on his last time in America.
"What?"
"Oh, its Mel. Guy's got an ego the size of the Goodyear blimp."
Ryouga obviously missed the reference.
"Hey, Anne!" The man in question, flanked by his two shorter friends, walked up to the counter, one of whom took a seat. Ryouga noted that the taller one, obviously Mel, moved with some control, and was likely some kind of fighter by his movements. It was either very subtle, suggesting he was very good, or he simply wasn't that good to begin with and didn't know how to conceal it. Ryouga was willing to bet on the latter but didn't totally rule out the former. Experimentally, he tried to read the man's Ki, and found it average in all respects, but then again Ryouga was hardly very experienced in that particular skill. Come to think of it, he was probably over-complicating the situation like usual.
"What can I get ya,' Mel?"
"A date would be a start," he spoke in a self-assured tone Ryouga quickly recognized, but held back for the moment to let the situation play out first before acting.
"I've already got a boyfriend," She answered, staying cordial. "Can I get you a drink, Mel?"
"James? Oh, come on! That geek? What do you see in that little freak, anyway?"
"He's a nice guy, Mel." The girl frowned, now, cordiality fading. "And he treats me like a person, not just another piece of ass."
"That was then, Anne." He leaned in closer. "How about one date? For old times sake?"
"I told you," She said sharply. "No."
"So..." Mel stood up straight. "You want to settle for some half man, huh? Is that what you want?"
"I want you to either buy something or leave, Mel. And stop calling me!"
"This..." Ryouga finally took the opportunity to speak, his English crystal clear. "Is so pathetic."
"Hey!" Mel looked down at Ryouga, who was still seated. "What the hell did you say?"
"I said..." The lost boy stood up, finishing his drink. "This is pathetic. And by extension, you are, too. Pathetic, as in embarrassingly so."
"This is none of your business." The older boy growled. "You don't want to start none of that shit with me, man!"
"Mel..." The woman, Anne, warned.
Both men ignored her, but Ryouga cracked a grin, one tooth dipping into the lower lip. "You look like a fighter, Mel... wasn't it?"
"The best in town! I'm the top student in my class!" Mel demonstrated he wasn't lying by taking a fairly advanced conventional Shotokan Karate stance. Ryouga looked him over, and sighed, aggression dissipating. It was like getting angry at a miniature poodle for barking too much - it just couldn't do anything else.
"I see... You know, I'm really, REALLY out of your league. I won't fight you, but you need to learn some... humility. Everyone does." The lost boy said, turned and headed for the door, which, luckily, was in plain view. He was bad with directions, but he wasn't that bad.
"Shea' right! What's the matter? Don't run away, little guy! I didn't mean to scare you off!"
Ryouga paused, and turned around, slowly. His expression hadn't changed, but he held out his hands, palms up. "I guess I really will have to teach you some humility then."
That's when it started to happen.
Like a switch that sets the blood aflame, the world started to slow down around the Lost Boy. Everything felt sharper, clearer, and more real than the jumbled mess that had been before. In that instant, Ryouga could virtually count every hair, every bit of stubble on the young man's face; smell his fear and anger, even touch the flickering candle of his soul. Had the American boy been more in touch with himself and the world around him, had he experience like this before, he would have realized his mistake then. But he was ignorant. Ryouga, on the other hand, was aware of everything around him.
Power, beyond that any normal person could ever really understand. To most people, a man with a knife was threatening, and a man with a gun was dangerous. To Ryouga, both were largely a joke. Times like this, he wondered if this was a small sample of what it felt like to be a god. A god of fire and speed and strength... and death!
Ryouga had, from his point of view, all the time in the world. The other boy's fist was only halfway between him and his opponent, and he still had time to think of a battle plan, enjoy the scenery, or even try, for once, to think of a snappy joke before he needed to make his move. Finally, the lost boy decided to act. The other boy was around eight feet away. Without a sound, he closed the distance halfway. To Mel and his friends, it's no doubt looked almost like he had teleported. Ryouga smiled inwardly at that... They were flies trying to swim through molasses, and he was a hawk soaring through the sky.
While he still didn't entertain the thought that he was faster than Ranma - he wasn't, he was still far and away faster than anyone present could follow. What to do, what to do... a list of options presented itself to the young martial artist. He could draw a bandanna or two and drill the punk lightly between his eyes. It would give him a good scar and probably a concussion, but wouldn't kill. On the other hand, not feeling altogether altruistic, he could just wind-up and give him a good old-fashioned haymaker, easily powerful enough to tear through ballistic armor, or collapse the front of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. Of course, such a thing was out of the question, but the option remained. Had he actually done it, Mel's head would either have been batted clean off his shoulders or, worse, exploded like an overripe melon hit by a .44 caliber bullet from a magnum.
'Kill him!'
But that would make a huge mess of the diner, and wouldn't be particularly honorable, regardless of the situation. Mel struck with a right jab, well executed, and what he likely thought as being lightning speed. The room was silent in that instant, save for a hard thud followed by a howl of pain. Ryouga had his left arm up, almost casually. Mel had his hand drawn back, in plain view, both eyes wide with shock and pain. His forearm was just slightly bent, and rapidly reddening from elbow to wrist. Lowering his arm from the blocking position, Ryouga sighed.
"Still want to fight me...?" Ryouga grinned, a ferocious terrible smile, promising no hope or mercy. "Or would you rather do the smart thing, and walk away? While you still can?"
'Kill him!' The fire in his blood roared. 'Kill him! Break his arms! Tear his legs out of their sockets! You have the power! Use it! USE IT!'
The American boy winced in pain and anger before finally drawing back, nursing his arm. "Jesus... like hitting God damn concrete..."
'Use it!!'
"I didn't think so." Ryouga's voice was level, and his smile faded into a normal, almost emotionless facade. His anger and frustration had come to the forefront just then, after days of wandering, and he was starting to regret not keeping it under tighter rein - he'd even scared that nice waitress lady. Finally, with the chance of danger over, the world came down from its high. Things stopped being so clear and beautiful and returned to the chaos and distraction of the not-so-real world the average man lived in and through.
'use... it...'
Ryouga felt, just then, the nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that he was, now, back to being just a normal human. Though sometimes, when the world was darker than usual, even he felt the need to remind myself that he wasn't, and so the lost boy would have to leap off a building, bridge or cliff just to get the rush, and the reminder, going again. Occasionally, someone would see him jump, and the police would mysteriously never find a body. And why would there be one? He always survived. And he always moved on.
"Bye." Ryouga turned, went out the door and headed for the Interstate.
And promptly got lost.
***
Past.
Shampoo winced as Ryouga blocked her snap kick, ending a quick set of attacks she had thought out beforehand, and spent time the night before practicing. She found him, as usual, after his morning speed exercises with her great grandmother, to bring him back to the camp for lunch. He'd been calmer and less exhausted, not to mention frustrated, than usual then, and had suggested they spar before lunch today. She hadn't picked up on the subtly of his suggestion and the meaning behind his words until they actually began the fight. Normally, he ate before some light sparring, to let the food settle for a long eight or so hours of Bukusai Tenketsu training. Today, he'd be eating right before being pummeled by boulders with enough force behind them to easily crush an armored car, which meant...
"You're letting your mind stray, Shampoo!"
Shampoo chastised herself mentally, and jumped back as he tagged her lightly on the shoulder. She'd told him, numerous times, that she wouldn't mind if he hit her, though naturally nowhere near at full strength. The fact that he had refused then, and now, continued to pique her Amazon pride, and the first few times she couldn't help but take it as an insult. But time and experience showed the contrary - Ryouga had respect for her skills, or else he wouldn't be helping her, it was simply his code of honor that didn't allow him to hit a woman. Foreign and alien to an Amazon, yes, but looking back on how often he had tagged her lightly, she was silently thankful for it.
"Then try this, lost boy!" Shampoo spun into a trio of fierce kicks, of which Ryouga simply fielded with hard blocks. Ryouga had stressed that his style, as it were, was one of flexibility, moving away from restrictive sets of attacks or even single attacks, and towards a more complex 'reactive' style that relied on unpredictability. He had, much to his own annoyance, said that the Hibiki School of Survival Arts was an informal one, but was, in practice, very similar to her Airen's formal Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu, or School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts. Still, she noted that he had picked up preferences for certain things, and while Ranma was a dodger, preferring to avoid blows entirely, Ryouga was a blocker, preferring to either take or block blows while moving into position to strike.
She had planned for this.
Last night, she had practiced it a dozen times, and had it down blindfolded. Jumping into a kick, that Ryouga dodged and blocked at the same time, she tucked and spun for a trip. He braced himself, she knew without looking, and his legs didn't budge when the trip hit home. She knew the lost boy wasn't easily taken off his feet, but the trip didn't matter; it was only a feint. Putting more pressure into her hand, she felt the soft earth and closed her fingers around a buried handle.
"Nani?" Ryouga's eyes widened as Shampoo pulled one of her bonbori out of the ground and lunged. Falling backwards he let it brush his nose as it passed overhead, before letting a hand stop his fall and assist a roll to the side. Kicking out with both legs, preventing Shampoo from closing the distance, he got to his feet. Shampoo spun in retaliation, her bonbori stopping inches from his ear as a powerful grip caught Shampoo's own around the handle, halting the momentum of the strike entirely.
"Nice try, Shan Pu. But I could always have just done... this," he spoke in Mandarin before switching to Japanese, and tapped the Bonbori with one finger. "Bukusai Tenketsu."
The bonbori cracked, shuddered, and exploded into blasted chunks. Shampoo cringed a bit as the debris hit her, but it wasn't a particularly powerful explosion, she knew, and didn't hurt too much. She smiled for him. "You learn Bukusai Tenketsu already?"
"I was close last night. When the... dreams came last night, I noticed my mistake. And corrected it." Ryouga let her hand go, blushing a bit, before turning away. "I won't show granny yet, though. I've learnt it, but I still need to perfect it."
"Shampoo think you obsessed."
"With beating Ranma," Ryouga added. "Always, Shampoo. Don't think otherwise."
"Great grandmother say you want impress violent Tendo girl."
"I... I'd be lying if that wasn't part of it, too." Ryouga walked over to the now only warm bowl of ramen that they had put aside earlier. "And her name is Akane."
"She violent."
"'She girl,' yes, I know," Ryouga rolled his eyes as he said it, "Shampoo logic in action. But she tries not to be violent. It's just... around Ranma. And Kuno. And most of the boys in her school. And you, and Kodachi... and... er... Well, she's nice to me, anyway. Kinda."
Shampoo sat nearby, her own bowl in hand. "You love her?"
"Sometimes I think so. Sometimes I don't know. Right now... right now, I don't know, Shampoo. I've never had a lot of experience with girls. My curse... my family's curse, I mean. We're always lost. It doesn't help things. Hell, I don't even know if I should get involved with anyone."
"What you mean?" Shampoo noted the rising tension in Ryouga's shoulders. It wasn't a comfortable subject, she could tell, but he seemed to want, or need, to talk about it.
"My father gets lost. But... my mother didn't always." Ryouga sighed when he saw that Shampoo was totally lost herself. "The Hibiki family has had The Curse for a little over two and a half centuries. We were... we are a samurai family. One that bred for strength and endurance for years, according to what my father told me on one of the rare occasions we were together for any period of time. I'm stronger than the average Hibiki for my age, but not by much. The Curse, inflicted on us by enemies long since punished for what they did, was meant to keep the Hibiki family under control, and to last 'for a thousand years.' Needless to say it worked, and has been with us since. However, the old family house had wards that allowed us to find our way around inside it, and not wander off. The Hibiki Family, at least, stayed together. We could stay home when we wanted to, and wander... when we wanted to."
Shampoo nodded. "What happened?"
"The house burnt down in a firebombing raid on Tokyo. The wards were lost. We had no idea how to reproduce them, and the priest that had, originally, made them was long dead. A new one was built, the house we have now. Have... but don't live in." Ryouga slurped a mouthful of noodles. "No one lives in it. ...Except the dog."
"Shampoo not understand! Why not just wait in house?"
"It doesn't work that way, Shampoo. ...I wish it did. I always end up outside, and then its impossible to find a way back inside for at LEAST a week. But that's not the worst of it. I mentioned that my mother wasn't always lost."
Shampoo remembered.
"It runs in the family, but it isn't hereditary."
"Shampoo still not understand."
"It... If I married Akane... If she loved me, as... If we got married, she would slowly start to get lost, too, until she was as bad as I am. My mother hates that my father never told her before they got married and had me, and neither my uncle nor my aunt, on the Cursed side, have children. They don't want to, and who could blame them? It's a miserable life to subject a child to. Besides, who could love someone with a Curse like mine?"
Shampoo didn't know what to say, but tried anyway, "Eight hundred year from now, child born who not get lost, right?"
"Supposedly." Ryouga finished the bowl, and leaned back, looking up at the sky. "But his parents would still be lost all the time. Anyway, enough about my family... it's depressing."
"Sure." Shampoo picked up his empty bowl, put it on top of hers, and put them away.
Ryouga simply took in the clouds. They sky was almost clear of them, high above the trees, and any day that it wasn't going to rain was a good day. He'd quickly come to hate... no, hate was too weak a word. Loathe. He'd quickly come to loathe Nerima's erratic rainstorms, water-splashing women, old and young, inconveniently placed sprinkler systems and easily broken or exploded plumping network. The whole place was like Tokyo's water hazard or something.
"Why you really like Akane?"
"Didn't you ask me that?" Ryouga grumbled, concentrating on more calming thoughts.
"Shampoo ask if you love her. You say sometimes." Shampoo sat down next to him. She was still wearing her battle armor, which she had lately taken to wearing during their sparring sessions. "Never ask why."
"What does it matter?" Ryouga felt a bit nervous about the topic.
"Shampoo not stupid. She suspect Airen have feelings for violent girl."
"And you think they're for the same reasons as mine?" Ryouga became strangely silent. It was almost a minute before he continued. "I don't know. I don't know if Ranma loves her or not, Shampoo. There's something there, under the surface, but I don't know what it is. I... I do know she thinks of Ranma a lot."
Ryouga clenched his fists. "You've seen me transform. You know what I am."
"You mean little black pig?"
"Pet pig!" Ryouga's voice bordered on a snarl, but aside from his almost chalk white fists he hadn't moved. "You want to know how it started, Shampoo? ...To make a comparison between us? I'll tell you, then! She kissed me in my cursed form! She kissed me, hugged me, and named me P-chan, and I fell for her. I fell hard, and I never got back up."
Jumping to his feet, he saw Cologne waiting and walked over to the matriarch, quicker than normal. Looking over his shoulder, he growled, "I'm the last person to be giving out advice on relationships."
An hour later the formerly quiet forest was rocked with the sound of explosions.
***
Present.
It didn't hurt to be careful.
Granted, Hibiki Ryouga never claimed to be a particularly careful person. He routinely destroyed walls and other things that got into the way and couldn't easily be gotten around, he got overly emotional, and... No, careful he wasn't. Quite the contrary, as both a martial artist and a wanderer, he had seen more than enough danger, and most of it he had jumped into willingly. Even his Jyusenkyou curse was partly his fault, both for being careless in a moment of weakness and dropping his guard, and for following Ranma in the first place. But danger was par d' course in the pursuit of revenge, he knew that. Still, he tried to be careful, even if he wasn't.
The stewardess smiled as the young man smiled up at her nervously. He was cute, in a rugged, somewhat dangerous way. Though that small scar, just under his left eye, was a bit odd, "What would you like for the in-flight meal, sir?"
"Excuse me, ma'am, but... what flight is this?"
The stewardess blinked, a blank look on her face. "Excuse me?"
"The flight. Where is it to?"
"You're flying First Class on a flight and you're not sure where it's going?"
"Er..."
He certainly didn't seem to be joking. Finally she humored him. "Flight 102 non stop to Narita Airport."
Ryouga nodded in recognition. Once on the island, it'd only be a matter of time before he hit Nerima, Tokyo. "Thank you. I wasn't... sure exactly where this plane was going to land."
"Oh." The stewardess seemed to accept that. "What'll you have for dinner, sir?"
"The steak. It'll probably be the last time I have that for a while," Ryouga said a bit too loudly and leaned back on his isle-side chair. Traveling on planes was always a gamble, at least for a Hibiki. More often than not, it took you more off course than you were to begin with, so it was generally reserved for emergencies. The expense wasn't a major problem; the family was easily well off enough for it, especially since so little of the actual money in the account was used. His mother and father spend all their time wandering; the money simply sat there and accrued interest.
"What'll it be, sir?" The waitress asked the man sitting next to Ryouga.
"Ahl ave de chicken, wahine."
The lost boy shuddered at the bad attempt at English, but otherwise ignored the other man. His thoughts turned back to Nerima, and why exactly he was returning. Was it because he had sworn to? Was it because he was curious? Or was it because he was lonely and tired of listlessly wandering foreign streets? Did he really have anywhere else to go? The plane had been in the air for only a half hour, he estimated, though it was a pretty rough estimate. The Hibiki sense of time is worse than usual, but thankfully nowhere near as bad as their sense of direction. So often it was like this - just him and his thoughts. In them, he was as free to get lost as anywhere. Usually, it was the only thing to alleviate the...
"What are you doing?"
"Aloha! Me was jus thinkin' dat ya hair need a clippin!" A pair of hand shears waved threateningly in midair. Threatening to normal people and to hair, anyway.
"So you were going to cut my hair?"
"Ya."
"In a plane?"
"Ya."
"While I slept?"
"Ya!"
Ryouga noticed, then, the odd ...tree-like hair design sticking out of the man's head. Or at least he hoped it was just a design. "Can I see your shears first?"
The weirdo had one in each hand, and seemed almost proud to display them. With a single, swift, motion, Ryouga grabbed each, and squeezed. The metal crumpled like tin foil, into a useless mess that hardly resembled anything anymore. Closing his eyes halfway, the young martial artist relaxed in his chair and crossed his hands over his belt. "Touch my hair, and I'll do that to your hands."
"..."
"Wake me up when dinner's here. Thanks." Closing his eyes, Ryouga decided to change topics of thought. He'd been looking to further his knowledge of Indonesian Serak for a while now, and the Hibiki memory, especially in regards to martial arts, was still as yet un-cursed, even if the rest of his body and soul was. He'd picked it up, first, a while back, before he first came to Nerima, and had been searching for, or more exactly kept on the look out for, a chance to further his study of it. Unfortunately, the opportunity hadn't yet presented itself.
The style stressed efficient body movements and timing in combat, and was almost entirely offensive in nature while emphasizing in close fighting. What Ryouga himself knew he had made good use of, but it was still incomplete and imperfect. Devoting time to study, improvise and extrapolate on a style was important, especially for himself. Because of his... directional problems, he had learnt that the most efficient way of learning new styles was to observe it in action or in practice, in its entirety, and allow a few days for contemplation and absorption into his own overall style.
In the meantime, he really hoped that freak wouldn't mess with his hair. Breaking his hands would probably upset everyone involved, and he'd upset enough people on this little excursion as it was. More than normal...
***
Past.
Shampoo paused, unsure.
In her mind, what she normally considered a minor thing was being turned over and re-examined. The splashing was audible now, and she knew where he was practicing, and about his state of dress (or lack thereof). At first, Shampoo had resolved herself simply to look and see whether he was as close to learning the Amaguriken as he had been the Bakusai Tenketsu yesterday. The fact that he trained for it naked was little more than a perk - such was the way of things in Amazon society. Her Airen didn't seem to mind, at least a lot, when she looked at him or vice versa, but Ryouga... the lost boy was a different matter entirely.
She knew he was unusually nervous around and about the female anatomy, and that he was similarly shy about himself. Why, Shampoo couldn't fathom; both he and Ranma were built quite well, and she had, after all, already seen him when he transformed out of his pig form back in the Nekohanten. It was almost noon. The splashing had stopped, and the option of asking was, at the moment, more tempting than ever, but the lost boy still hadn't totally admitted to knowing the Bakusai Tenketsu, and she had SEEN him do it! In light of that, it seemed likely he'd deny knowing the Amaguriken, even if he knew the technique.
The whole situation was confusing, so Shampoo did what she always did in situations where she couldn't come to a rational decision, and went with her instincts. Looking over the concealing bushes, careful not to make noise, Shampoo watched. To her silent dismay, he only had his shirt off, obviously to keep it from getting wet. Cologne was next to him, kettle off to the side, watching. The old woman's eyes passed by Shampoo, and stayed there. The urge to bolt under her great grandmother's gaze was strong, but it quickly left her and went back to the raging water where it belonged, leaving Shampoo with enough dignity and wits to stay. To Shampoo, it was enough approval to stick around.
Ryouga's shoulders tensed, one hand inching a bit forward, letting the other hang back. Shampoo then noticed one additional thing: both her great grandmother and her pupil had moved downstream, where it was shallower. When, without warning, the lost boy's hands became a blur, she quickly saw why. Instead of catching fish, which likely had fled the area (and what animal wouldn't?), he was plucking pebbles off the bottom of the stream. It only seemed to last a second before Ryouga's hands stopped in midair, still slightly trembling, and he leaned back, winded but dry. In front of his crossed legs, between his knees, Shampoo could just barely see a small pile of stones.
"How... how was that, granny? Fast enough?"
Cologne looked down at the pile, and said, simply, "Son-in-law is faster still."
"Damn. Let me catch my breath, I'll try again."
"Tomorrow." Cologne spied Shampoo, and the younger Amazon quickly retreated.
"Sure." Ryouga slowly got to his feet and stood up, not noticing anything out of the normal. "Should I continue the Bakusai Tenketsu training later today?"
"It has served its purpose. Only practice will make you more comfortable and proficient with the technique itself now."
"Right. Should I just wait for Shampoo like normal, or..." Ryouga frowned. "Where do you head off to every day, anyway? At the same time?"
"Do you really want to know?" Cologne regretted saying that: of course the boy meant what he said. She sighed. "My future Son-in-law is also training on this mountain."
"Ah." Ryouga's frown deepened into a scowl. A little too quickly, Cologne thought to herself. Before he could say another word, she bounded off without a sound. He was about to run after her, simply on impulse, when he caught himself and stayed in place.
"Ranma... two days," he said, in an attempt at a villain cliché voice, "Two days until I destroy you!"
"Nihao!" Shampoo poked him in the back, causing Ryouga to jump five feet in the air, totally ruining the mood.
"Don't DO that!" He whirled, and calmed instantly. "Still, I'm glad you're here. Shampoo... I should probably tell you something. I just found out... I'm not the only one training on this mountain..."
Shampoo blinked as his sentence ended there. "And?"
"And..." Ryouga couldn't seem to push it past his lips. Telling Shampoo was both the honest thing to do, and the right thing to do. Granted, she had an unhealthy fixation on a bastard SOB who would only break her heart, and likely that of a half dozen other girls, but he knew he should tell her that he was here. He didn't want to; she'd likely run off without another thought. Still, over the last few days he'd never lied to her, why break a streak like that? Besides, what did he have to lose?
"Ranma's also around here somewhere. Cologne goes to spy on him around now."
"Shampoo know that," she stated, oblivious to the effort he had spent on that simple statement.
"You know?" He exclaimed.
"Of course Shampoo know." Shampoo bluffed. She had just found out herself, overhearing her great grandmother tell Ryouga, but decided it was something better kept to herself. True, she was tempted to go off and first find, then see, Ranma. But he was always there, and she'd see him at the duel in two days anyway, so it was a minor thing. Besides, Ranma never actually spent time with her, or even talked, or tried to be her friend like Ryouga did. Considering Ranma had the luck to marry the best fighter (and, in Shampoo's opinion, the cutest fighter) in the Joketsuzoku village, he didn't seem to be especially grateful or enthusiastic about it.
"Oh." Ryouga chuckled to himself nervously. "Good."
As the two walked back to the camp, Ryouga spoke up, "Hey... I've got a day and a half's worth of training to do, and no one to do it with. I was kinda wondering if... uh... you'd help me?"
"Silly lost boy! Of course Shampoo help after you eat."
"Great!" Ryouga held out a large handful of small round stones and gave them to Shampoo. "We'll start with those, and take a break when they're all gone!"
Shampoo just looked down at the stones in her hand and back up at him.
"Throw them at me!" Ryouga held his left hand behind his back, and his right forward, index finger forward. Shampoo crouched, and started flicking them, the first three at low speed. The lost boy easily intercepted them with his finger, and each exploded in a small cloud of dust. In bursts, next, Shampoo fired them, building up to top speed. Matching the tiny projectiles, Ryouga's hand became a blur, as she had seen them do before. Knowing he'd intercept any she threw, Shampoo poured half of the remaining stones into her other hand, and used both to send a steam of them his way. His arm was still moving incredibly quickly, but she could see behind it that he was already breathing very heavily, in somewhat undisciplined gasps. When her supply ran out, and the last pebble exploded in midair, Ryouga fell forward, stopped from hitting the ground only by his still rested left hand.
"Look exhausting." Shampoo nudged him with her foot, and he slowly recovered, his breathing turning steady.
Standing up, he smiled. "That's the point."
"Good. Then lost boy too, too tired to put off eat." She dragged him by his other arm and tossed him to the ground. To his credit, he struggled a little.
"Geez. Alright."
He ate contently. The ramen was even better than before, but it disappeared just as quickly. With it finished, two things warred for attention in the mind of Hibiki Ryouga. By the end of the fight, in two days, both were moot points, anyway.
***
Present.
"Curse that Saotome!"
Tatewaki Kuno, oft times called the Blue Thunder (at least in his own mind) of Furinkan High School, repeated his proclamation once more for the world to take to heart before sneezing loudly, and at least in his opinion, proudly. Pride was, after all, essential to life as a Kuno, and Tatewaki, as the heir to the name, and the de facto head of the family, knew he always had his pride to fall back on. Even as, earlier today, the vile Sorcerer had publicly humiliated them both, no doubt in a vain effort to make a mockery of the great name of Tatewaki Kuno, even at the minor price of his own tiny sense of self-esteem.
What had started out as a semi-honorable duel had quickly degraded into a hellish display of ...of ...Kuno wasn't sure what it had degraded into, but it hadn't been the noble pursuit it began as. Just a scant two days ago, the Scion of the House Kuno had developed a dark case of the uncommon cold - uncommon, in that surly no ordinary cold could or would so dare taunt death by attacking the well nigh impenetrable immune system of the Blue Thunder, and dark in that no MERE, unaided, disease had a chance of infecting Tatewaki Kuno... unless, of course, it had some dark benefactor behind its mysterious resurgence. No doubt, the vile Saotome Ranma, knowing that no physical attack could fell the righteous Blue Thunder, resorted to dishonorable biological attacks on his person. Hence, Kuno had decided, upon great meditation (and sleeping) to pay back the sorcerer by giving it to him as well!
"Ah, the thwarted irony of such a magnificent plan!" Kuno's eyes watered liberally. Sadly, when his great plan had been made manifest, and he had begun attempts to spread the disease to Saotome (by sneezing on him), the fiend, perhaps driven by fear and desperation, clung to his person. Vigorously, even! Ignoring the long lavender haired maiden, and holding fast to the torso of the Blue Thunder, and even doing so far as to do it again, in front of everyone, and say: 'I can't help myself!'
"The... the knave!" Kuno sneezed again, and held his bokken to the air, in a silent vow of vengeance, ready to run off and get revenge. "I shall have my...!"
Kodachi's piercing laugh ruined the moment. "Oh, brother dear!"
"What?" Kuno held in a sneeze and slowly turned around. Standing next to his twisted sister was a man, wearing a coat over unusually brightly colored clothes. Especially seeing as it was late fall. Still, he seemed... slightly familiar.
And why was his left hand all bandaged up?
Shampoo hadn't had this much fun in weeks. The appearance of the Kairaishi mushroom earlier in the day had come both as a surprise and as an unexpected boon. The plan had been simple: use its abilities to make an obviously uncommitted and unresponsive Ranma more... open to advances and suggestion, even if it was through the use of 'black magic.' With Mousse out of town training by himself, things had been both slow and boring, much to Shampoo's chagrin. Worse, over the weeks, Ranma seemed to have grown more and more short tempered around her, often being downright unfriendly. She'd have been heartbroken if she hadn't seen it coming - by this point, heartbreak had been replaced by anger and annoyance, little more. Still, a girl had to have her fun...
Neko-shampoo purred as Ranma ran through the house with her in his arms. Tears were streaking down his cheeks and his eyes were dilated to the point that one would think he'd had something on the level of a cerebral hemorrhage. One little sneeze had done it, she was still amazed by that, and it'd even overcome his fear of her cursed form. On that topic, she idly wondered why she felt more comfortable in his arms, even though he was screaming like a madman/woman, as a cat instead of a person. True, he was strong and she liked hugging him as a girl, but there was something different when one was an animal. Idly, she remembered the Lost Boy saying something similar months ago, the day before the fight, when they'd talked about their mutual curses.
Sudden heat interrupted her thoughts, and she felt her body change. It tingled slightly, she suspected it was from the size change and the fur, but it was like second nature by this time to undergo the transformation. Shampoo took it in stride.
"Nihao!"
"Ssshhammpooo!!!" Ranma seemed more than a little upset. "GET THIS SPELL OFFA ME!!"
"No want to," Shampoo said, and meant it. It was both amusing, and she really had no idea how to undo it anyway.
A swift Tendo Akane-mallet attack cut Ranma off before he could reply. "Okay, Okay, I believe you! Now get away from there!"
There, of course, referring to Shampoo, the Amazon knew. She scowled; why did this girl always get in the way? If she wanted Ranma, and Shampoo knew Akane did, why not just say so and get it out in the open? There was a place for deceit, and a place for honesty in Amazon society, and the latter almost always came before the former.
"So this IS all your fault, Shampoo!" Akane huffed, the mallet no longer visible through the steam of the hot bath.
"I had to go through all this to convince you?" Ranma grumbled loudly, both girls ignored him.
"Ranma! Now you hold Shampoo!" Shampoo produced a handy Peppershaker (From where is any guess. She was naked when she went into the tub).
"I don't..." Akane intercepted the pepper and inhaled it. Shampoo could see the Tendo girl was more than willing to 'take' the hug from Ranma in her stead. "T...think ssso!"
"Akane! What you doing?!" Shampoo snarled, but when Akane sneezed, nothing happened. Both girls looked around, and neither saw Ranma.
"This is too much! I guess I'll be sleeping outdoors tonight... Man, why do these things happen to me?" Ranma thought, running across the top of the wall just outside the dojo. He paused, when another form, partially obscured by the darkness, stepped in front of him as it rounded one of the wall's corners. Slowly, the map in the man's hands lowered, revealing a heavy forward swept mass of black hair, and the hint of the yellow and black bandanna that kept it in place.
The lost boy was back.
"Learning Curve"
Part II (v1.4)
by: J. Wagner
Cologne sighed to herself as the boulder beneath her swung back, slowly, the supporting branches overhead creaking in protest. Around forty feet away, attached to the same apparatus that held the multi-ton boulder suspended, her student was tied, legs crossed and only one arm, and one finger on that same arm, free. He'd taken to closing his eyes, the Amazon matriarch noted, in regards to the training. The last three days he'd kept his eyes open, often during the impact, in an effort to 'see' the breaking point. Today, however, he'd kept them closed, and seemed a lot calmer and more collected during the exercise, despite her attempts to rile him. The Hibiki boy was powerful, physically, but his emotions were a weak spot - mentioning Akane, Ranma, and the like very easily had predictable and adverse effects on his ability to get better in touch with his ki and what it could do for him.
Cologne tensed a bit as the boulder reached an apex of height, inertia fading, letting gravity take it back down, gaining in speed.
She herself had undergone the training, though with a smaller boulder. Traditionally, the Bakusai Tenketsu was done with a boulder one third the size she was using now, and even then, not as much force was behind it. The training was also stretched out over weeks or months. This, she knew, had little to do with the size of the boulder except for the always-present danger of brain damage that the use of larger, heavier rocks entailed. However, observation of the Lost Boy showed he was capable of surviving the impacts of this size, and likely possessed the skill and conscious experience of Ki manipulation. She had, on the first day, before the first rock collided, told him.
"See not with your eyes."
The boulder shuddered violently as it smashed into the young martial artist. There was a wet thump, and a sharp intake of air as Ryouga pushed off the surface of the training tool. Looking up at her, eyes dark with a likely combination of pain and repressed anger and depression, but most importantly determination, he spat out what she wanted to hear, what she had been drilling into him over the last few days.
"Again!" He screamed, as if addicted to the pain.
"Very well." Cologne tapped her staff on a nearby tree trunk, and the boulder began, again, to creak backwards. Outwardly, she was annoyed at him, and made as much known every few failures. Silently, Cologne was amazed. Before the training had begun, she had tested some of his abilities. He was incredibly strong, this much was his most obvious attribute, but only recently had she gotten an appreciation for what he was capable of. Ranma was also in the mountains training, with Akane, and she had seen Genma-Panda when he came to spy on what was going on here. Since then, she had divided her free time between watching her son-in-law prepare for the upcoming fight, and watching his rival.
The rock began to slow, before stopping entirely, and then moving forward for what seemed like the two hundredth time today.
Cologne had seen, as she planned, Ryouga practicing and training Shampoo before the Bakusai Tenketsu training. This was why she had allowed Shampoo to come, indeed, why she hadn't initially thought of it herself was almost a little embarrassing. Her great granddaughter was a fine Amazon specimen, and an excellent warrior - the best of her generation. However, compared to Ranma, even then, she was virtually nothing. This, coupled with Shampoo's disillusionment and eventual acceptance of her defeat, began what Cologne knew was the gradual fading of her warrior spirit. Cologne was not one to offer training except in special cases; hence she had been hesitant to directly confront her protégé with her concerns. By tradition, Shampoo would have to ask her, not the other way around.
Another sickening splat.
The boulder shook a little this time, and Cologne noted it as a tiny Ki infusion, but incorrectly placed and used. It was almost like... the Blowout Delivery Attack? Cologne smiled inwardly at that. So: he had managed to get a little inspiration from his training partner, and come to the logical conclusion that the attack Shampoo knew was related to the Bakusai Tenketsu. It was a cousin technique, in execution, but still quite different. Mastering one did not instantly grant mastery in the other. But it was a good head start. He was growing remarkably close to 'seeing' the breaking point. Deciding a little goading might help, Cologne put on her heartless martial-arts master voice.
"Why don't you just give up?" She said, coldly, "No progress. No progress at all."
"AGAIN!"
Cologne tapped the trunk in a now well-worn location, and the boulder did as it did. Cologne had also wanted to observe Ryouga's personal abilities, outside of simply carrying orders, as she had for Ranma. Like the Saotome boy, Ryouga practiced a very loose, unrestricted style, that couldn't be properly observed except when used freely. Simply asking him to show her 'what he could do' would accomplish nothing, because it wouldn't actually be how he fought. It had taken a bit longer than she suspected, but when Ryouga began to take on the role of helping Shampoo improve, often indulging in sparring sessions with her, it was the prefect opportunity to see the differences and similarities between her son-in-law and his rival.
"AGAIN!"
And he was so close to finding the breaking point it very nearly amazed her. Cologne had had some hint that Ryouga had experience with Ki Infusion techniques when she checked his clothes and backpack. The former were lighter than expected, and the latter far, far heavier, and not simply due to the number of items stuffed within. Additionally, his umbrella was also mysteriously heavy. The Amazon's suspicious were confirmed when Ryouga, by chance, sent a stray bandanna, one of many apparently, near her when she allowed him to sense her sneaking up on him. Not see: sense. Further, the bandanna had acted like a shuriken, and buried itself deeply into a nearby tree trunk. It was reminiscent of Martial Arts Gymnastics, which Cologne had heard of, but never actually seen. It supposedly infused Ki into gymnastic ribbons to increase the strength of the material, and other properties. It was a strange thought - this Hibiki boy learning, of all things, Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics, which consequently became adapted to his lifestyle and fighting techniques. Like it was in her son-in-law, a single technique could spawn half a dozen improvisations and improvements in a superior martial artist's mind.
A dull thud interrupted her thoughts, followed by something that sounded like...
"aah... again."
She had seen Ranma doing as much to her Kachuu Tenshi Amaguriken, using it to pick off attacking bees before they could sting him in the clearing near where he and his father, a man who obviously held many powerful techniques and abilities behind his clumsy and cowardly exterior, were camped. The Chestnut Fist was, at its heart, simply a speed exercise for the hands, inspired by the ancient Seven Lucky Gods Clan, of which the leader traditionally used Chopsticks in a similar manner. Ranma had learned it in a mere few days, though Cologne admitted she had been reasonably soft on him, due to her inability to accurately gage his level of skill in specific Ki mastery. It was a learning experience for both of them, in a way. Ranma had, apparently, learned it more quickly using fish in water as opposed to actual chestnuts in a fire, which was the normal method, one that often lead to ugly scarring. Ryouga's unfortunate curse had almost made her reconsider using fire, but to her pleasure it had instead proved both motivational and ...entertaining, to say the least.
The rock shook under her feet, and Cologne looked down at the somewhat limp form clinging to the front of the boulder. Inwardly, she realized she should have put some pause into that last swing to give him more time to recover. Ryouga's face was bloodied, one eye slightly swollen, and a slow but steady trickle of dark red blood was flowing out of the corner of his mouth and into a new patch of dried blood beneath his chin. One of many Cologne noted. She'd heard that many Amazons believed the Bukusai Tenketsu was a technique designed either for fanatics and masochists, from watching the comparatively pitiful displays of its training regimen back at the village. Sighing, she looked at where Ryouga's finger had hit the boulder at an off angle, and saw a tiny dark Ki signature lingering in the rock, barely breaking the surface, and barely visible.
She knew, then, that he'd have it mastered by tomorrow, probably after only another hour or two. Cologne smiled at the thought. When he was fully healed, after the training was complete, he would be practically immune to any physical attack her son-in-law could bring against him. Though the technique didn't work on organic targets, of which Cologne was sure Ryouga knew... or would certainly know once he mastered it, it built endurance, toughness and strength to insane levels. Coupled with his growing, but still more incremental, success with the Amaguriken, the two would make an unbeatable combination when used against her son-in-law. That Tendo-girl, Akane, would be Ryouga's prize, because it was obvious he was infatuated with her, and Ranma, who never appeared to have any feeling for the girl, would become Shampoo's... if only because the boy would need her great grandmother to teach him a technique to defeat his rival. And if he didn't, there was always Plan B.
"We'll stop here for tonight." Cologne reached out with her staff and undid the main knot of the harness around Ryouga. He fell into the ground, breathing but not moving.
"What... what a familiar view," he finally spoke, looking up at the blood stained boulder. Then, very slowly, he smiled.
***
Present.
"Two things about Hawaii. One good, one bad."
"Oh? What's that?"
"One. It's an island," Ryouga shifted the strap on his shoulder a bit.
"And Two?"
"Two. It's an island," The lost boy said, nodding to himself. It had been just over a week since he landed in Hawaii, the large island. He'd ended up on a ship to Maui, and another one back, he thought, while looking for Gate 46, which had, the week before, been the location of the next flight to Tokyo. Unfortunately, the island seemed to have an insane range of climates and locales stuffed into its meager 4000 something square miles, making him even more lost and directionless than usual. Currently, he was in a small café, overlooking the ocean, feeling just a little more depressed than usual.
"Another coffee," he ordered. "No cream. Same as before. Dark as the night."
"Right." The woman turned and started making the drink, when Ryouga spoke up again.
"I... I know this is going to sound stupid, but... where am I?"
She looked over her shoulder. "What do ya mean?"
"I mean, where am I? Exactly?" Ryouga hated asking for directions, especially from women, but it was a necessity. Though they rarely helped, it usually at least gave him some reference point for the future, and some handle on where to go next. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was on the large island anymore. "I'm kind of looking for an airport."
"You're on the Kona Coast, honey. Keahole Airport is about 20 minutes from here."
"20 minutes?" Ryouga smiled, just a little. 20 minutes driving time was about 40 minutes jogging at a fairly casual pace for him, but that was only if he got lucky and didn't get lost.
"Yep." She handed him his drink, and Ryouga put down the required cash. At least he knew he was in the United States, and had a handy emergency supply of the appropriate money. "Just head down the I-11. The Interstate. It goes right there."
"Good! Thanks!" Ryouga totally ignored the heat of the coffee. He was almost used to being splashed by boiling water, drinking some of it wasn't a problem. Silently, he savored the drink. The western world seemed to love their coffee, and he didn't mind it occasionally himself. He'd only gotten two hours sleep yesterday in his effort to get out of a volcanic type area as quickly as possible, and the coffee was a welcome relief when he could find it.
"Oh no," the woman at the café said, and Ryouga looked in the direction she seemed to be concerned by. A trio of men, dressed somewhat unusually, had walked in. They sported loose jeans, and fairly colorful T-shirts, the words on one of which Ryouga didn't recognize: likely some slang term he hadn't picked up on his last time in America.
"What?"
"Oh, its Mel. Guy's got an ego the size of the Goodyear blimp."
Ryouga obviously missed the reference.
"Hey, Anne!" The man in question, flanked by his two shorter friends, walked up to the counter, one of whom took a seat. Ryouga noted that the taller one, obviously Mel, moved with some control, and was likely some kind of fighter by his movements. It was either very subtle, suggesting he was very good, or he simply wasn't that good to begin with and didn't know how to conceal it. Ryouga was willing to bet on the latter but didn't totally rule out the former. Experimentally, he tried to read the man's Ki, and found it average in all respects, but then again Ryouga was hardly very experienced in that particular skill. Come to think of it, he was probably over-complicating the situation like usual.
"What can I get ya,' Mel?"
"A date would be a start," he spoke in a self-assured tone Ryouga quickly recognized, but held back for the moment to let the situation play out first before acting.
"I've already got a boyfriend," She answered, staying cordial. "Can I get you a drink, Mel?"
"James? Oh, come on! That geek? What do you see in that little freak, anyway?"
"He's a nice guy, Mel." The girl frowned, now, cordiality fading. "And he treats me like a person, not just another piece of ass."
"That was then, Anne." He leaned in closer. "How about one date? For old times sake?"
"I told you," She said sharply. "No."
"So..." Mel stood up straight. "You want to settle for some half man, huh? Is that what you want?"
"I want you to either buy something or leave, Mel. And stop calling me!"
"This..." Ryouga finally took the opportunity to speak, his English crystal clear. "Is so pathetic."
"Hey!" Mel looked down at Ryouga, who was still seated. "What the hell did you say?"
"I said..." The lost boy stood up, finishing his drink. "This is pathetic. And by extension, you are, too. Pathetic, as in embarrassingly so."
"This is none of your business." The older boy growled. "You don't want to start none of that shit with me, man!"
"Mel..." The woman, Anne, warned.
Both men ignored her, but Ryouga cracked a grin, one tooth dipping into the lower lip. "You look like a fighter, Mel... wasn't it?"
"The best in town! I'm the top student in my class!" Mel demonstrated he wasn't lying by taking a fairly advanced conventional Shotokan Karate stance. Ryouga looked him over, and sighed, aggression dissipating. It was like getting angry at a miniature poodle for barking too much - it just couldn't do anything else.
"I see... You know, I'm really, REALLY out of your league. I won't fight you, but you need to learn some... humility. Everyone does." The lost boy said, turned and headed for the door, which, luckily, was in plain view. He was bad with directions, but he wasn't that bad.
"Shea' right! What's the matter? Don't run away, little guy! I didn't mean to scare you off!"
Ryouga paused, and turned around, slowly. His expression hadn't changed, but he held out his hands, palms up. "I guess I really will have to teach you some humility then."
That's when it started to happen.
Like a switch that sets the blood aflame, the world started to slow down around the Lost Boy. Everything felt sharper, clearer, and more real than the jumbled mess that had been before. In that instant, Ryouga could virtually count every hair, every bit of stubble on the young man's face; smell his fear and anger, even touch the flickering candle of his soul. Had the American boy been more in touch with himself and the world around him, had he experience like this before, he would have realized his mistake then. But he was ignorant. Ryouga, on the other hand, was aware of everything around him.
Power, beyond that any normal person could ever really understand. To most people, a man with a knife was threatening, and a man with a gun was dangerous. To Ryouga, both were largely a joke. Times like this, he wondered if this was a small sample of what it felt like to be a god. A god of fire and speed and strength... and death!
Ryouga had, from his point of view, all the time in the world. The other boy's fist was only halfway between him and his opponent, and he still had time to think of a battle plan, enjoy the scenery, or even try, for once, to think of a snappy joke before he needed to make his move. Finally, the lost boy decided to act. The other boy was around eight feet away. Without a sound, he closed the distance halfway. To Mel and his friends, it's no doubt looked almost like he had teleported. Ryouga smiled inwardly at that... They were flies trying to swim through molasses, and he was a hawk soaring through the sky.
While he still didn't entertain the thought that he was faster than Ranma - he wasn't, he was still far and away faster than anyone present could follow. What to do, what to do... a list of options presented itself to the young martial artist. He could draw a bandanna or two and drill the punk lightly between his eyes. It would give him a good scar and probably a concussion, but wouldn't kill. On the other hand, not feeling altogether altruistic, he could just wind-up and give him a good old-fashioned haymaker, easily powerful enough to tear through ballistic armor, or collapse the front of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. Of course, such a thing was out of the question, but the option remained. Had he actually done it, Mel's head would either have been batted clean off his shoulders or, worse, exploded like an overripe melon hit by a .44 caliber bullet from a magnum.
'Kill him!'
But that would make a huge mess of the diner, and wouldn't be particularly honorable, regardless of the situation. Mel struck with a right jab, well executed, and what he likely thought as being lightning speed. The room was silent in that instant, save for a hard thud followed by a howl of pain. Ryouga had his left arm up, almost casually. Mel had his hand drawn back, in plain view, both eyes wide with shock and pain. His forearm was just slightly bent, and rapidly reddening from elbow to wrist. Lowering his arm from the blocking position, Ryouga sighed.
"Still want to fight me...?" Ryouga grinned, a ferocious terrible smile, promising no hope or mercy. "Or would you rather do the smart thing, and walk away? While you still can?"
'Kill him!' The fire in his blood roared. 'Kill him! Break his arms! Tear his legs out of their sockets! You have the power! Use it! USE IT!'
The American boy winced in pain and anger before finally drawing back, nursing his arm. "Jesus... like hitting God damn concrete..."
'Use it!!'
"I didn't think so." Ryouga's voice was level, and his smile faded into a normal, almost emotionless facade. His anger and frustration had come to the forefront just then, after days of wandering, and he was starting to regret not keeping it under tighter rein - he'd even scared that nice waitress lady. Finally, with the chance of danger over, the world came down from its high. Things stopped being so clear and beautiful and returned to the chaos and distraction of the not-so-real world the average man lived in and through.
'use... it...'
Ryouga felt, just then, the nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that he was, now, back to being just a normal human. Though sometimes, when the world was darker than usual, even he felt the need to remind myself that he wasn't, and so the lost boy would have to leap off a building, bridge or cliff just to get the rush, and the reminder, going again. Occasionally, someone would see him jump, and the police would mysteriously never find a body. And why would there be one? He always survived. And he always moved on.
"Bye." Ryouga turned, went out the door and headed for the Interstate.
And promptly got lost.
***
Past.
Shampoo winced as Ryouga blocked her snap kick, ending a quick set of attacks she had thought out beforehand, and spent time the night before practicing. She found him, as usual, after his morning speed exercises with her great grandmother, to bring him back to the camp for lunch. He'd been calmer and less exhausted, not to mention frustrated, than usual then, and had suggested they spar before lunch today. She hadn't picked up on the subtly of his suggestion and the meaning behind his words until they actually began the fight. Normally, he ate before some light sparring, to let the food settle for a long eight or so hours of Bukusai Tenketsu training. Today, he'd be eating right before being pummeled by boulders with enough force behind them to easily crush an armored car, which meant...
"You're letting your mind stray, Shampoo!"
Shampoo chastised herself mentally, and jumped back as he tagged her lightly on the shoulder. She'd told him, numerous times, that she wouldn't mind if he hit her, though naturally nowhere near at full strength. The fact that he had refused then, and now, continued to pique her Amazon pride, and the first few times she couldn't help but take it as an insult. But time and experience showed the contrary - Ryouga had respect for her skills, or else he wouldn't be helping her, it was simply his code of honor that didn't allow him to hit a woman. Foreign and alien to an Amazon, yes, but looking back on how often he had tagged her lightly, she was silently thankful for it.
"Then try this, lost boy!" Shampoo spun into a trio of fierce kicks, of which Ryouga simply fielded with hard blocks. Ryouga had stressed that his style, as it were, was one of flexibility, moving away from restrictive sets of attacks or even single attacks, and towards a more complex 'reactive' style that relied on unpredictability. He had, much to his own annoyance, said that the Hibiki School of Survival Arts was an informal one, but was, in practice, very similar to her Airen's formal Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu, or School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts. Still, she noted that he had picked up preferences for certain things, and while Ranma was a dodger, preferring to avoid blows entirely, Ryouga was a blocker, preferring to either take or block blows while moving into position to strike.
She had planned for this.
Last night, she had practiced it a dozen times, and had it down blindfolded. Jumping into a kick, that Ryouga dodged and blocked at the same time, she tucked and spun for a trip. He braced himself, she knew without looking, and his legs didn't budge when the trip hit home. She knew the lost boy wasn't easily taken off his feet, but the trip didn't matter; it was only a feint. Putting more pressure into her hand, she felt the soft earth and closed her fingers around a buried handle.
"Nani?" Ryouga's eyes widened as Shampoo pulled one of her bonbori out of the ground and lunged. Falling backwards he let it brush his nose as it passed overhead, before letting a hand stop his fall and assist a roll to the side. Kicking out with both legs, preventing Shampoo from closing the distance, he got to his feet. Shampoo spun in retaliation, her bonbori stopping inches from his ear as a powerful grip caught Shampoo's own around the handle, halting the momentum of the strike entirely.
"Nice try, Shan Pu. But I could always have just done... this," he spoke in Mandarin before switching to Japanese, and tapped the Bonbori with one finger. "Bukusai Tenketsu."
The bonbori cracked, shuddered, and exploded into blasted chunks. Shampoo cringed a bit as the debris hit her, but it wasn't a particularly powerful explosion, she knew, and didn't hurt too much. She smiled for him. "You learn Bukusai Tenketsu already?"
"I was close last night. When the... dreams came last night, I noticed my mistake. And corrected it." Ryouga let her hand go, blushing a bit, before turning away. "I won't show granny yet, though. I've learnt it, but I still need to perfect it."
"Shampoo think you obsessed."
"With beating Ranma," Ryouga added. "Always, Shampoo. Don't think otherwise."
"Great grandmother say you want impress violent Tendo girl."
"I... I'd be lying if that wasn't part of it, too." Ryouga walked over to the now only warm bowl of ramen that they had put aside earlier. "And her name is Akane."
"She violent."
"'She girl,' yes, I know," Ryouga rolled his eyes as he said it, "Shampoo logic in action. But she tries not to be violent. It's just... around Ranma. And Kuno. And most of the boys in her school. And you, and Kodachi... and... er... Well, she's nice to me, anyway. Kinda."
Shampoo sat nearby, her own bowl in hand. "You love her?"
"Sometimes I think so. Sometimes I don't know. Right now... right now, I don't know, Shampoo. I've never had a lot of experience with girls. My curse... my family's curse, I mean. We're always lost. It doesn't help things. Hell, I don't even know if I should get involved with anyone."
"What you mean?" Shampoo noted the rising tension in Ryouga's shoulders. It wasn't a comfortable subject, she could tell, but he seemed to want, or need, to talk about it.
"My father gets lost. But... my mother didn't always." Ryouga sighed when he saw that Shampoo was totally lost herself. "The Hibiki family has had The Curse for a little over two and a half centuries. We were... we are a samurai family. One that bred for strength and endurance for years, according to what my father told me on one of the rare occasions we were together for any period of time. I'm stronger than the average Hibiki for my age, but not by much. The Curse, inflicted on us by enemies long since punished for what they did, was meant to keep the Hibiki family under control, and to last 'for a thousand years.' Needless to say it worked, and has been with us since. However, the old family house had wards that allowed us to find our way around inside it, and not wander off. The Hibiki Family, at least, stayed together. We could stay home when we wanted to, and wander... when we wanted to."
Shampoo nodded. "What happened?"
"The house burnt down in a firebombing raid on Tokyo. The wards were lost. We had no idea how to reproduce them, and the priest that had, originally, made them was long dead. A new one was built, the house we have now. Have... but don't live in." Ryouga slurped a mouthful of noodles. "No one lives in it. ...Except the dog."
"Shampoo not understand! Why not just wait in house?"
"It doesn't work that way, Shampoo. ...I wish it did. I always end up outside, and then its impossible to find a way back inside for at LEAST a week. But that's not the worst of it. I mentioned that my mother wasn't always lost."
Shampoo remembered.
"It runs in the family, but it isn't hereditary."
"Shampoo still not understand."
"It... If I married Akane... If she loved me, as... If we got married, she would slowly start to get lost, too, until she was as bad as I am. My mother hates that my father never told her before they got married and had me, and neither my uncle nor my aunt, on the Cursed side, have children. They don't want to, and who could blame them? It's a miserable life to subject a child to. Besides, who could love someone with a Curse like mine?"
Shampoo didn't know what to say, but tried anyway, "Eight hundred year from now, child born who not get lost, right?"
"Supposedly." Ryouga finished the bowl, and leaned back, looking up at the sky. "But his parents would still be lost all the time. Anyway, enough about my family... it's depressing."
"Sure." Shampoo picked up his empty bowl, put it on top of hers, and put them away.
Ryouga simply took in the clouds. They sky was almost clear of them, high above the trees, and any day that it wasn't going to rain was a good day. He'd quickly come to hate... no, hate was too weak a word. Loathe. He'd quickly come to loathe Nerima's erratic rainstorms, water-splashing women, old and young, inconveniently placed sprinkler systems and easily broken or exploded plumping network. The whole place was like Tokyo's water hazard or something.
"Why you really like Akane?"
"Didn't you ask me that?" Ryouga grumbled, concentrating on more calming thoughts.
"Shampoo ask if you love her. You say sometimes." Shampoo sat down next to him. She was still wearing her battle armor, which she had lately taken to wearing during their sparring sessions. "Never ask why."
"What does it matter?" Ryouga felt a bit nervous about the topic.
"Shampoo not stupid. She suspect Airen have feelings for violent girl."
"And you think they're for the same reasons as mine?" Ryouga became strangely silent. It was almost a minute before he continued. "I don't know. I don't know if Ranma loves her or not, Shampoo. There's something there, under the surface, but I don't know what it is. I... I do know she thinks of Ranma a lot."
Ryouga clenched his fists. "You've seen me transform. You know what I am."
"You mean little black pig?"
"Pet pig!" Ryouga's voice bordered on a snarl, but aside from his almost chalk white fists he hadn't moved. "You want to know how it started, Shampoo? ...To make a comparison between us? I'll tell you, then! She kissed me in my cursed form! She kissed me, hugged me, and named me P-chan, and I fell for her. I fell hard, and I never got back up."
Jumping to his feet, he saw Cologne waiting and walked over to the matriarch, quicker than normal. Looking over his shoulder, he growled, "I'm the last person to be giving out advice on relationships."
An hour later the formerly quiet forest was rocked with the sound of explosions.
***
Present.
It didn't hurt to be careful.
Granted, Hibiki Ryouga never claimed to be a particularly careful person. He routinely destroyed walls and other things that got into the way and couldn't easily be gotten around, he got overly emotional, and... No, careful he wasn't. Quite the contrary, as both a martial artist and a wanderer, he had seen more than enough danger, and most of it he had jumped into willingly. Even his Jyusenkyou curse was partly his fault, both for being careless in a moment of weakness and dropping his guard, and for following Ranma in the first place. But danger was par d' course in the pursuit of revenge, he knew that. Still, he tried to be careful, even if he wasn't.
The stewardess smiled as the young man smiled up at her nervously. He was cute, in a rugged, somewhat dangerous way. Though that small scar, just under his left eye, was a bit odd, "What would you like for the in-flight meal, sir?"
"Excuse me, ma'am, but... what flight is this?"
The stewardess blinked, a blank look on her face. "Excuse me?"
"The flight. Where is it to?"
"You're flying First Class on a flight and you're not sure where it's going?"
"Er..."
He certainly didn't seem to be joking. Finally she humored him. "Flight 102 non stop to Narita Airport."
Ryouga nodded in recognition. Once on the island, it'd only be a matter of time before he hit Nerima, Tokyo. "Thank you. I wasn't... sure exactly where this plane was going to land."
"Oh." The stewardess seemed to accept that. "What'll you have for dinner, sir?"
"The steak. It'll probably be the last time I have that for a while," Ryouga said a bit too loudly and leaned back on his isle-side chair. Traveling on planes was always a gamble, at least for a Hibiki. More often than not, it took you more off course than you were to begin with, so it was generally reserved for emergencies. The expense wasn't a major problem; the family was easily well off enough for it, especially since so little of the actual money in the account was used. His mother and father spend all their time wandering; the money simply sat there and accrued interest.
"What'll it be, sir?" The waitress asked the man sitting next to Ryouga.
"Ahl ave de chicken, wahine."
The lost boy shuddered at the bad attempt at English, but otherwise ignored the other man. His thoughts turned back to Nerima, and why exactly he was returning. Was it because he had sworn to? Was it because he was curious? Or was it because he was lonely and tired of listlessly wandering foreign streets? Did he really have anywhere else to go? The plane had been in the air for only a half hour, he estimated, though it was a pretty rough estimate. The Hibiki sense of time is worse than usual, but thankfully nowhere near as bad as their sense of direction. So often it was like this - just him and his thoughts. In them, he was as free to get lost as anywhere. Usually, it was the only thing to alleviate the...
"What are you doing?"
"Aloha! Me was jus thinkin' dat ya hair need a clippin!" A pair of hand shears waved threateningly in midair. Threatening to normal people and to hair, anyway.
"So you were going to cut my hair?"
"Ya."
"In a plane?"
"Ya."
"While I slept?"
"Ya!"
Ryouga noticed, then, the odd ...tree-like hair design sticking out of the man's head. Or at least he hoped it was just a design. "Can I see your shears first?"
The weirdo had one in each hand, and seemed almost proud to display them. With a single, swift, motion, Ryouga grabbed each, and squeezed. The metal crumpled like tin foil, into a useless mess that hardly resembled anything anymore. Closing his eyes halfway, the young martial artist relaxed in his chair and crossed his hands over his belt. "Touch my hair, and I'll do that to your hands."
"..."
"Wake me up when dinner's here. Thanks." Closing his eyes, Ryouga decided to change topics of thought. He'd been looking to further his knowledge of Indonesian Serak for a while now, and the Hibiki memory, especially in regards to martial arts, was still as yet un-cursed, even if the rest of his body and soul was. He'd picked it up, first, a while back, before he first came to Nerima, and had been searching for, or more exactly kept on the look out for, a chance to further his study of it. Unfortunately, the opportunity hadn't yet presented itself.
The style stressed efficient body movements and timing in combat, and was almost entirely offensive in nature while emphasizing in close fighting. What Ryouga himself knew he had made good use of, but it was still incomplete and imperfect. Devoting time to study, improvise and extrapolate on a style was important, especially for himself. Because of his... directional problems, he had learnt that the most efficient way of learning new styles was to observe it in action or in practice, in its entirety, and allow a few days for contemplation and absorption into his own overall style.
In the meantime, he really hoped that freak wouldn't mess with his hair. Breaking his hands would probably upset everyone involved, and he'd upset enough people on this little excursion as it was. More than normal...
***
Past.
Shampoo paused, unsure.
In her mind, what she normally considered a minor thing was being turned over and re-examined. The splashing was audible now, and she knew where he was practicing, and about his state of dress (or lack thereof). At first, Shampoo had resolved herself simply to look and see whether he was as close to learning the Amaguriken as he had been the Bakusai Tenketsu yesterday. The fact that he trained for it naked was little more than a perk - such was the way of things in Amazon society. Her Airen didn't seem to mind, at least a lot, when she looked at him or vice versa, but Ryouga... the lost boy was a different matter entirely.
She knew he was unusually nervous around and about the female anatomy, and that he was similarly shy about himself. Why, Shampoo couldn't fathom; both he and Ranma were built quite well, and she had, after all, already seen him when he transformed out of his pig form back in the Nekohanten. It was almost noon. The splashing had stopped, and the option of asking was, at the moment, more tempting than ever, but the lost boy still hadn't totally admitted to knowing the Bakusai Tenketsu, and she had SEEN him do it! In light of that, it seemed likely he'd deny knowing the Amaguriken, even if he knew the technique.
The whole situation was confusing, so Shampoo did what she always did in situations where she couldn't come to a rational decision, and went with her instincts. Looking over the concealing bushes, careful not to make noise, Shampoo watched. To her silent dismay, he only had his shirt off, obviously to keep it from getting wet. Cologne was next to him, kettle off to the side, watching. The old woman's eyes passed by Shampoo, and stayed there. The urge to bolt under her great grandmother's gaze was strong, but it quickly left her and went back to the raging water where it belonged, leaving Shampoo with enough dignity and wits to stay. To Shampoo, it was enough approval to stick around.
Ryouga's shoulders tensed, one hand inching a bit forward, letting the other hang back. Shampoo then noticed one additional thing: both her great grandmother and her pupil had moved downstream, where it was shallower. When, without warning, the lost boy's hands became a blur, she quickly saw why. Instead of catching fish, which likely had fled the area (and what animal wouldn't?), he was plucking pebbles off the bottom of the stream. It only seemed to last a second before Ryouga's hands stopped in midair, still slightly trembling, and he leaned back, winded but dry. In front of his crossed legs, between his knees, Shampoo could just barely see a small pile of stones.
"How... how was that, granny? Fast enough?"
Cologne looked down at the pile, and said, simply, "Son-in-law is faster still."
"Damn. Let me catch my breath, I'll try again."
"Tomorrow." Cologne spied Shampoo, and the younger Amazon quickly retreated.
"Sure." Ryouga slowly got to his feet and stood up, not noticing anything out of the normal. "Should I continue the Bakusai Tenketsu training later today?"
"It has served its purpose. Only practice will make you more comfortable and proficient with the technique itself now."
"Right. Should I just wait for Shampoo like normal, or..." Ryouga frowned. "Where do you head off to every day, anyway? At the same time?"
"Do you really want to know?" Cologne regretted saying that: of course the boy meant what he said. She sighed. "My future Son-in-law is also training on this mountain."
"Ah." Ryouga's frown deepened into a scowl. A little too quickly, Cologne thought to herself. Before he could say another word, she bounded off without a sound. He was about to run after her, simply on impulse, when he caught himself and stayed in place.
"Ranma... two days," he said, in an attempt at a villain cliché voice, "Two days until I destroy you!"
"Nihao!" Shampoo poked him in the back, causing Ryouga to jump five feet in the air, totally ruining the mood.
"Don't DO that!" He whirled, and calmed instantly. "Still, I'm glad you're here. Shampoo... I should probably tell you something. I just found out... I'm not the only one training on this mountain..."
Shampoo blinked as his sentence ended there. "And?"
"And..." Ryouga couldn't seem to push it past his lips. Telling Shampoo was both the honest thing to do, and the right thing to do. Granted, she had an unhealthy fixation on a bastard SOB who would only break her heart, and likely that of a half dozen other girls, but he knew he should tell her that he was here. He didn't want to; she'd likely run off without another thought. Still, over the last few days he'd never lied to her, why break a streak like that? Besides, what did he have to lose?
"Ranma's also around here somewhere. Cologne goes to spy on him around now."
"Shampoo know that," she stated, oblivious to the effort he had spent on that simple statement.
"You know?" He exclaimed.
"Of course Shampoo know." Shampoo bluffed. She had just found out herself, overhearing her great grandmother tell Ryouga, but decided it was something better kept to herself. True, she was tempted to go off and first find, then see, Ranma. But he was always there, and she'd see him at the duel in two days anyway, so it was a minor thing. Besides, Ranma never actually spent time with her, or even talked, or tried to be her friend like Ryouga did. Considering Ranma had the luck to marry the best fighter (and, in Shampoo's opinion, the cutest fighter) in the Joketsuzoku village, he didn't seem to be especially grateful or enthusiastic about it.
"Oh." Ryouga chuckled to himself nervously. "Good."
As the two walked back to the camp, Ryouga spoke up, "Hey... I've got a day and a half's worth of training to do, and no one to do it with. I was kinda wondering if... uh... you'd help me?"
"Silly lost boy! Of course Shampoo help after you eat."
"Great!" Ryouga held out a large handful of small round stones and gave them to Shampoo. "We'll start with those, and take a break when they're all gone!"
Shampoo just looked down at the stones in her hand and back up at him.
"Throw them at me!" Ryouga held his left hand behind his back, and his right forward, index finger forward. Shampoo crouched, and started flicking them, the first three at low speed. The lost boy easily intercepted them with his finger, and each exploded in a small cloud of dust. In bursts, next, Shampoo fired them, building up to top speed. Matching the tiny projectiles, Ryouga's hand became a blur, as she had seen them do before. Knowing he'd intercept any she threw, Shampoo poured half of the remaining stones into her other hand, and used both to send a steam of them his way. His arm was still moving incredibly quickly, but she could see behind it that he was already breathing very heavily, in somewhat undisciplined gasps. When her supply ran out, and the last pebble exploded in midair, Ryouga fell forward, stopped from hitting the ground only by his still rested left hand.
"Look exhausting." Shampoo nudged him with her foot, and he slowly recovered, his breathing turning steady.
Standing up, he smiled. "That's the point."
"Good. Then lost boy too, too tired to put off eat." She dragged him by his other arm and tossed him to the ground. To his credit, he struggled a little.
"Geez. Alright."
He ate contently. The ramen was even better than before, but it disappeared just as quickly. With it finished, two things warred for attention in the mind of Hibiki Ryouga. By the end of the fight, in two days, both were moot points, anyway.
***
Present.
"Curse that Saotome!"
Tatewaki Kuno, oft times called the Blue Thunder (at least in his own mind) of Furinkan High School, repeated his proclamation once more for the world to take to heart before sneezing loudly, and at least in his opinion, proudly. Pride was, after all, essential to life as a Kuno, and Tatewaki, as the heir to the name, and the de facto head of the family, knew he always had his pride to fall back on. Even as, earlier today, the vile Sorcerer had publicly humiliated them both, no doubt in a vain effort to make a mockery of the great name of Tatewaki Kuno, even at the minor price of his own tiny sense of self-esteem.
What had started out as a semi-honorable duel had quickly degraded into a hellish display of ...of ...Kuno wasn't sure what it had degraded into, but it hadn't been the noble pursuit it began as. Just a scant two days ago, the Scion of the House Kuno had developed a dark case of the uncommon cold - uncommon, in that surly no ordinary cold could or would so dare taunt death by attacking the well nigh impenetrable immune system of the Blue Thunder, and dark in that no MERE, unaided, disease had a chance of infecting Tatewaki Kuno... unless, of course, it had some dark benefactor behind its mysterious resurgence. No doubt, the vile Saotome Ranma, knowing that no physical attack could fell the righteous Blue Thunder, resorted to dishonorable biological attacks on his person. Hence, Kuno had decided, upon great meditation (and sleeping) to pay back the sorcerer by giving it to him as well!
"Ah, the thwarted irony of such a magnificent plan!" Kuno's eyes watered liberally. Sadly, when his great plan had been made manifest, and he had begun attempts to spread the disease to Saotome (by sneezing on him), the fiend, perhaps driven by fear and desperation, clung to his person. Vigorously, even! Ignoring the long lavender haired maiden, and holding fast to the torso of the Blue Thunder, and even doing so far as to do it again, in front of everyone, and say: 'I can't help myself!'
"The... the knave!" Kuno sneezed again, and held his bokken to the air, in a silent vow of vengeance, ready to run off and get revenge. "I shall have my...!"
Kodachi's piercing laugh ruined the moment. "Oh, brother dear!"
"What?" Kuno held in a sneeze and slowly turned around. Standing next to his twisted sister was a man, wearing a coat over unusually brightly colored clothes. Especially seeing as it was late fall. Still, he seemed... slightly familiar.
And why was his left hand all bandaged up?
Shampoo hadn't had this much fun in weeks. The appearance of the Kairaishi mushroom earlier in the day had come both as a surprise and as an unexpected boon. The plan had been simple: use its abilities to make an obviously uncommitted and unresponsive Ranma more... open to advances and suggestion, even if it was through the use of 'black magic.' With Mousse out of town training by himself, things had been both slow and boring, much to Shampoo's chagrin. Worse, over the weeks, Ranma seemed to have grown more and more short tempered around her, often being downright unfriendly. She'd have been heartbroken if she hadn't seen it coming - by this point, heartbreak had been replaced by anger and annoyance, little more. Still, a girl had to have her fun...
Neko-shampoo purred as Ranma ran through the house with her in his arms. Tears were streaking down his cheeks and his eyes were dilated to the point that one would think he'd had something on the level of a cerebral hemorrhage. One little sneeze had done it, she was still amazed by that, and it'd even overcome his fear of her cursed form. On that topic, she idly wondered why she felt more comfortable in his arms, even though he was screaming like a madman/woman, as a cat instead of a person. True, he was strong and she liked hugging him as a girl, but there was something different when one was an animal. Idly, she remembered the Lost Boy saying something similar months ago, the day before the fight, when they'd talked about their mutual curses.
Sudden heat interrupted her thoughts, and she felt her body change. It tingled slightly, she suspected it was from the size change and the fur, but it was like second nature by this time to undergo the transformation. Shampoo took it in stride.
"Nihao!"
"Ssshhammpooo!!!" Ranma seemed more than a little upset. "GET THIS SPELL OFFA ME!!"
"No want to," Shampoo said, and meant it. It was both amusing, and she really had no idea how to undo it anyway.
A swift Tendo Akane-mallet attack cut Ranma off before he could reply. "Okay, Okay, I believe you! Now get away from there!"
There, of course, referring to Shampoo, the Amazon knew. She scowled; why did this girl always get in the way? If she wanted Ranma, and Shampoo knew Akane did, why not just say so and get it out in the open? There was a place for deceit, and a place for honesty in Amazon society, and the latter almost always came before the former.
"So this IS all your fault, Shampoo!" Akane huffed, the mallet no longer visible through the steam of the hot bath.
"I had to go through all this to convince you?" Ranma grumbled loudly, both girls ignored him.
"Ranma! Now you hold Shampoo!" Shampoo produced a handy Peppershaker (From where is any guess. She was naked when she went into the tub).
"I don't..." Akane intercepted the pepper and inhaled it. Shampoo could see the Tendo girl was more than willing to 'take' the hug from Ranma in her stead. "T...think ssso!"
"Akane! What you doing?!" Shampoo snarled, but when Akane sneezed, nothing happened. Both girls looked around, and neither saw Ranma.
"This is too much! I guess I'll be sleeping outdoors tonight... Man, why do these things happen to me?" Ranma thought, running across the top of the wall just outside the dojo. He paused, when another form, partially obscured by the darkness, stepped in front of him as it rounded one of the wall's corners. Slowly, the map in the man's hands lowered, revealing a heavy forward swept mass of black hair, and the hint of the yellow and black bandanna that kept it in place.
The lost boy was back.
