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 IX (v1.4)
by: J. Wagner
"I'll KILL him!" Ranma stormed into the Nekohanten.
Shampoo was the only one up, and she rubbed her eyes to get the sleep out of them. "Kill who? Airen come see Shampoo? Shampoo very happy, but is very early."
Ranma scowled. "Where's the old ghoul?"
"She in back." Shampoo motioned with her hand, and locked the front door. They didn't open for two hours, and Shampoo couldn't be happier for that fact. The late night fight she'd gotten involved in had been tiring, and she'd had to drag Mousse back after Ranma finally knocked him unconscious. Fortunately, he'd been in his duck form, and hadn't been that hard to carry. He'd left miscellaneous weapons all over the Tendo dojo and yard, too, but those were his responsibility to clean up after. She'd only taken her home with her because Ukyou had asked, right before she'd passed out on the roof. The two of them had come out of the fight the worst, physically.
Shampoo still owed that annoying stick-boy for last night, too. After Ranma-chan had been forced to turn her attentions to Happosai, and Mousse, and Ukyou, she'd been left alone trying to fend off his attacks. She had been weaponless, too, and no matter how often she beat him into the ground he got back up a few seconds later. It was almost like he had the endurance of the Bakusai Tenketsu training, though, fortunately, not the resistance to damage. Still, he'd been tenacious enough to be beyond annoying.
"Ugh." Shampoo suddenly remembered that she was scheduled to participate in a Martial Arts Ping Pong Tournament later in the day. Right now, she was seriously considering skipping it entirely. Ranma was gone, already, and frankly, Shampoo was too tired to give a damn. It was something to deal with later. Going upstairs to her room, she tuned out, and went back to sleep. Downstairs, Ranma finally found the object of his search. Cologne studied him carefully, totally alert despite the time.
"Yes, boy?"
"I need trainin,' old ghoul." He paused. "And you're the best there is around here."
"And why should I train you, hmm?" Cologne asked, frankly.
"You trained him to beat me."
"Only because it got me what I wanted. ...Or would have, anyway, had you not run away."
"I didn't run away. It was the Saotome Secret Technique. It's based on the concepts of 'motion,' 'contemplation,' and 'opposition.'"
"You ran away," Cologne said again, and he sighed in exasperation.
"Ok, I ran away! Happy now?"
"No."
Cologne clasped her hands together and considered things. Her training of the lost boy had been twofold. Hibiki Ryouga was Ranma's contemporary, and showed a similarly exceptional skill for martial arts. Training him would both give her a connection to him that she could use later, with him as an ally, and when Shampoo came along, Cologne was quick to realize it could well bring those two together as well. Optimally, such an association would make Ranma more jealous, and allow the two to compete over her granddaughter instead of the violent Tendo girl. Either of them would be fine, and Shampoo would have the choice and the room to pick and choose at her leisure. It would also force them to grow dependant on her to advance their skill levels... once they began to grow familiar with the Amazon techniques, it was only a matter of time before they would want to join the tribe themselves, if only to keep close to the source of their martial arts improvement, and a desire not to be left behind.
Ranma was easily the most naturally skilled young person, of either gender, that Cologne had seen in decades. He was incredibly fast, and his mind soaked up martial arts like a sponge. In typical male fashion, he was also greedy, rather short sighted, and dim witted - much like his father. This was both a good and bad thing. It was good, because he could be easily manipulated, and it was bad, because it was annoying and constantly grated on her nerves. Of course, when she heard from her great granddaughter that Hibiki Ryouga had returned, or was trying to, it made this meeting between them inevitable. Things were proceeding slowly, but they were proceeding as she had anticipated. They were both fools, but useful fools, especially if the situation she'd heard was developing in China turned sour.
At that thought, she became slightly worried.
"I will train you," she began. "And you... will date my great granddaughter, steadily, for so long as you remain under my tutelage."
Ranma scratched his chin. "What's to keep you from dragging it out? Slowing things down, so I'm forced to date Shampoo longer than I should have to?"
"Why..." She smiled. He was a little smarter than she thought. "Nothing, of course."
Ranma's fists clenched. She had him backed into a corner, and they both knew it. After a few seconds of silence, Ranma leaned over, and looked her in the eyes. "Only if you make me good enough to win."
Cologne blinked, slowly. "I think I can manage that."
"I want your word."
"You have my solemn word, as a Joketsuzoku Elder."
"Good." Ranma stood back up. "Good."
"Indeed," Cologne whispered, softly. "Things could hardly be better."
***
"How did I get into this mess?" Ranma thought, and not for the first time. He was, currently, trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Outside, a super strong Tendo Akane waited, less than patiently, for gods knew what. She had been taking advantage of her new strength not only to beat him down, of late, but also to avenge her past losses to Shampoo by challenging her to a round of 'Martial Arts Ping Pong.' It all sounded ridiculous, but then again, there were rumors going around of a 'Martial Arts Tea Ceremony' Dojo somewhere nearby, so nothing really surprised him anymore.
Under the large iron bell that Shampoo was currently holding up over her head, said girl was looking at him with a mixture of annoyance, and something else, he wasn't sure what. If he had to wager a guess, Ranma figured it was probably simple confusion. Somehow, she'd gotten some of the Super Soba for herself, and the two women were about to tear the town apart with their bare hands by batting multi-ton shrine bells around. Needless to say, the whole situation was... what was that American word: whacked? Ranma rubbed his temples in frustration, and reached into his left pocket, taking out a tiny radish.
Luckily, there was a simple and easily acquired antidote to the Super Soba. There were also side effects to said super-noodles, yes, that he'd personally prefer neither girl had, but those concerns were secondary. It was a matter of pride - and the hurt of said pride in the face of being humiliated by Akane over the last day and a half. It was time to put an end to it, so he could concentrate on more important things, namely his training to beat the Lost Boy and regain his rightful place as the strongest and greatest in Nerima. Akane could grow whiskers until she tripped on them. His greatest concern was to put things back into their place, restore the proper status quo, and make damn sure things stayed there.
Ranma had to be the best; he HAD to be!
"Shampoo!" Ranma smiled, brightly. "Open wide, please."
Shampoo walked over, batted her eyes, and opened her mouth obediently.
"There's a good girl." Ranma popped the little radish into her mouth, and instantly her arms gave out, and the bell fell down behind her, trapping them under it.
"Now, for a certain kawaiikune tomboy..." Ranma went over to the edge and dug his fingers just barely under the edge of the massive iron bell. Slowly, he started to lift the massive weight, before his arms fatigued and he fell back, breathing heavily. He heard Shampoo come up from behind, and felt her small, but still strong hands on his shoulders.
"Now Airen and Shampoo all along in dark." She crawled up to him and purred in his ear. "You kiss Shampoo?"
"Ahh..." Ranma looked from her, to where he knew Akane was standing, on the other side of the iron. He spoke more loudly, "AH! Shampoo! Don't touch me THERE!"
Instantly, he grabbed Shampoo's head, and ducked. Inches from where their faces had both been, something hard and heavy cut through the air ...and half the iron bell they were trapped under. Akane was livid with rage, now, and trembling. "Rrraaannmmaa! What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing!" He jumped up, casually, taking out another of the antidote radishes. "Say 'aah.'"
"Aah." Akane opened her mouth, but clamped her jaws shut a heartbeat before he could pop the little vegetable into her mouth. "What was that?"
Ranma shrugged, as if it was nothing at all. "The antidote."
"Oh no you don't! You're just jealous because I'm stronger than you!"
That was true, but Ranma didn't say as much. It was really the noodles he was jealous of, not her. "You'll be sorry if you don't eat the antidote."
"Yeah, right!" Akane rolled her eyes. "I'm finally strong and you want me to just give it up? Never! You'll have to defeat me in combat first!"
Ranma's eyes narrowed, for only a millisecond. Akane was stronger than him, true, but she was still far slower, clumsier, less experienced and less resistant to damage than Ukyou, Shampoo, Mousse, or even Kuno. She was also a girl, AND his fiancée. Had she been a boy, Ranma would have already demonstrated that strength wasn't everything by reducing him to little bits of idiot strewn around the district. Saotome Ranma had very little patience for this sort of situation. However, given who and what she was, a more ...shrewd method was required to get the job done.
"Then I challenge you to a game of Martial Arts Ping Pong!"
"I accept!" Akane turned, and jumped off the roof, heading towards the ring a couple hundred feet away. Ranma was about to follow her, when, by chance, something unusual caught his eye. There was a bowl just sitting there, on the far side of the roof. Walking over to it, he was joined by Shampoo. She picked it up, looked inside, and shook her head.
"Super Soba all gone. Stupid Happosai! Shampoo going make him make more!" Shampoo threw aside the bowl, and jumped off in some general direction, presumably to look for the ancient pervert. Ranma looked down at the bowl. It wasn't one of theirs, which meant Happosai probably stole it.
"No surprise there." Ranma looked more closely, and saw that there was still a fair amount of crust in a ring along the sides of the bowl, and on the bottom. Neurons traded electrons a couple thousand million times, and an idea slowly but surely began to form. Jumping down, he ducked into a store, and in a few minutes, came out with a small plastic vial full of brownish looking water.
It didn't look pleasant, but Ranma was sure that, if drunk, it would achieve something similar, though watered down, to eating the magical Soba. And even if it only provided a fraction of the strength that Shampoo and Akane got, it would go a good way towards evening the gap between Ryouga and himself in the raw muscle department.
Then again, in a (rare) moment of moral indecision, Ranma realized that taking the drink to get stronger would be undermining everything he'd worked for, and believed in. Strength didn't come from potions, or magic, or anything like that... it came from hard work and training. He knew that. Ryouga knew that. Or did he? Ryouga had been willing to accept 'steroids' from Nabiki, back when they'd had their first Nerima Duel. Maybe he'd done something similar while he was away, in which case, Ranma taking the distilled Essence of Super Soba would only be fair. He'd only be catching up. Then again, even if Ryouga had done that, and he really doubted that the lost boy would, would that make it any more right to take it himself and sink to that level.
Two wrongs, one right, and all that.
Was he really that desperate?
Ryouga was already nearly impossible to put down without hitting him hundreds of times in the same spot, and even then, recently, that tactic had fallen short of the lost boy's newer levels of damage resistance. What if, in not taking a sip from this bit of liquid, he lost the match? He'd be humbled, in an official, public duel, in front of everyone, all because he chosen the morally acceptable route instead of the alternative. Ranma pondered this. His father had been adamant in saying that the point of fighting is to win.
'Any Victory is better than Any Defeat.'
That was the credo of the Saotome School.
Any Victory.
No matter the cost.
Ranma swirled the liquid around in the vial.
No matter the cost.
All he'd have to do is pop the cork and drink it.
No matter the cost.
There was always the antidote, anyway, if he changed his mind. Right? And he could shave every day or so; that way no one would be the wiser, if it even had that effect on men. This could save his life, if Ryouga was really out to kill him like he now suspected. Memories of the night before, the humiliation of the previous two fights, all came to Ranma at once. Victory was what he craved! Victory is what would make everything right again in the world - he was sure of it!
No matter the cost.
It might not even do anything... much.
No matter the cost?
"Ranma!" Akane loudly interrupted his thoughts. "Are you coming or not?!"
"Uh... yeah." Ranma quickly put the vial into a hidden pocket, and went to get some cold water and a change of clothes. He wasn't about to drink it, not now, but he wasn't about to throw it away either. He wasn't like Akane, or even Shampoo. He had to win: had to defeat Ryouga with his own strength, not power borrowed from magic. That sort of victory was hollow and petty. It wasn't worthy of this fight, this duel... this feud. Of this, Ranma was certain.
***
Ryouga's laughter was a deep bass rumble that chilled the flesh down to the bone. His eyes flashed, and for a moment, disappeared into an abyss of white, like an alien sea. His hand moved, almost lazily, to the side, and destruction followed in its wake, tearing the ground at Ranma's feet into shreds of grass and earth. Ranma felt himself involuntarily step back, wavering, fighting his urge to run. Ryouga just seemed amused.
"Go ahead and run, Saotome," he spoke, his tone promising only death.
Ranma could feel his body shaking.
"Run, Ranma. Run away!" His mouth moved into a bemused smirk. "I'll catch you eventually anyway."
He took a step forward, and the ground trembled to the heat of Ranma's heart.
"I always do." Another step, the soft earth splintering at his passing. "I always will."
"Stay back!" Ranma got back into a fighting stance. His muscles burnt from exhaustion, and his lower back threatened to give out completely.
Ryouga just laughed. It was a cold, heartless laughter that only hinted at an insanity grounded in the deepest of hatred. He kept approaching; his footsteps now more like thunderclaps, growing steadily louder and louder. After one or two, they became deafening... almost drowning out thought itself. Ranma concentrated, and looked for a weakness, but there was none. It seemed the whole planet was trembling now, beneath his feet, as if on the verge of falling apart at the seams. Ryouga was massive, too, and as he shook his head back and forth, lazily, dark shapes fell to the ground, slowly coalescing into creatures with legs and claws and fangs.
"You're a coward, boy!" His voice seemed to merge with Genma's. "Everyone knows it, except you."
"N... no!" Ranma looked at his hands - they looked so small, now. Then he realized he was too small, like a boy, and there were sausages and fish cakes and sardines strung and tied around his arms and legs. The terror rose, like bile, and Ranma had to remember to breathe. Only when the sounds started, that horrible hungry mewing, and the barely audible scraping of claws, did Ranma see them, around Ryouga's feet, crawling towards him, eyes glowing like tiny demons.
'Kill them!' Something primal from within screamed. 'Kill them!!'
There was a wave, a great tidal wave that blocked out the sky and the cats were everywhere - fur and claws and teeth and blood and pain. And the only other sound, the only sound that kept him anything near sane, was the laughter. It was Ryouga's laughter, as mirthless and cold as Lake Baikal, and coming from every direction. Moments of madness came and passed, like rapid fire switches, and Ranma saw himself tearing at the little demons, ripping them in half, and screaming: screaming until his lungs hurt and his mouth was dry as the desert and it seemed like he'd never taste air again.
And then, when there was only a sea of blood and ragged fur decorating the world, from horizon to horizon, he stood at the laughing demon, and source of his horror. A voice, kind and gentle, maybe his mother's, told him, 'Kill this thing. Kill him and be a Man.'
So Ranma attacked.
Ryouga still laughed, even as the claws of the Neko-ken cut into his body, carving his skin and shredding it into the winds. He laughed, even as Ranma tore out his eyes. He laughed, and with a single motion too swift to be believed, except for the cyclone of pain it left in its wake, Ryouga smashed him to the ground. And there were suddenly eyes everywhere, and voices, talking and laughing. A heavy boot, like a mountain range squeezed into a footprint, crushed his back, and Ranma couldn't feel his legs.
"I'm only playing with you. You're a little toy to me!" Ryouga's voice returned, and Ranma twisted just enough to see the dark flames of Ki around his nemesis seep into his wounds, sealing them up in seconds. The laughter returned, and reverberated, and was joined by so many others it was impossible to distinguish. It was as if every voice, and every eye, was on him, and reveling in his humiliation.
"Go home to your mommy, boy!" Genma-Ryouga spoke, and the others were silent, if only for a moment. "Though I doubt she'll stomach a weakling like you in Her House."
"I'm... I'm not weak," Ranma spat, in defiance, and the boot rose, only to come down just below his shoulder blades, crushing his spine into a broken mess, and paralyzing him for life.
"No. I suppose not. You're pathetic."
"No." The tears came, and his lips stopped working properly, preferring to make gurgling noises. No. No. NO. NO! NO!!!
"NO!" Ranma bolted upright, drenched in sweat. He looked around in the dark; his eyes only slightly adjusted to the darkness, and saw only his room. To his right, Genma lay, for once in his human form, peacefully sleeping, again, for once. Normally, his old man, now often a Panda, snored like he had a community of gnomes living in his nose who only mined at night. Ranma looked at his hands, and saw that his own nails scraped the insides of his palms, probably while he was sleeping. Slowly composing himself, Ranma got up, and went to the bathroom.
The cold water that ran over his hands almost made Ranma flinch, but he held them under the stream of ice-cold tap water. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noted the circles around his eyes, and cursed under his breath. He hadn't been sleeping that much to begin with, in an effort to improve his endurance, and when he did, the nightmares came full force. Tonights had just been the worst, yet. The ones before were generally subtler.
"Bwee."
"Nani?" Ranma looked down, under the sink, and saw something small and black. Kneeling, he saw the black piglet, and narrowed his eyes. It was minus the bandanna, but it looked identical to Ryouga's cursed form. A moment of annoyance, and even anger, came and went, when he looked into the creature's eyes. It wasn't Ryouga. It wasn't even human. It was just some poor animal. Mousse or Ukyou had probably used it as a lure, and then been unable to find it after the fight last night. He held out his hand, and the piglet tensed to run.
"Come on." Ranma showed it his open palm, and the piglet sniffed it quickly, and relaxed a bit. Ranma sighed, and picked the little pig up - it obviously seemed relieved and relaxed instantly into his arm, which was amazing in and of itself, because animals of all types generally didn't like him that much. Looking at it, Ranma scratched behind the piglet's left ear. "Maybe I should give you to Akane. What do you think of that, hmm?"
"Qee!" It looked up at him, and blinked.
Ranma considered what he had just said. The pig seemed nice enough, and it was, after all, just an animal. It might even make up for how he'd treated her earlier, when after curing her of the Super Soba, he beat her a dozen times or so in arm wrestling, just to make sure that he was back to form, and in their normal roles. At the time, it had just been natural... a way to take out the stress of before, but in retrospect, she hadn't been very friendly (not that she usually was anyway) the rest of the day. And, of course, Nabiki and Kasumi hadn't been too approving of his behavior, either. Luckily, Soun just seemed happy his daughter wouldn't be competing with him in the facial hair department.
Before Ranma really knew what he was doing, he had already tapped lightly on Akane's door. When he realized it, really realized where he was and what he was doing, he almost left. Maybe Akane would have just thought she imagined it? Too late for him to make a run for it the door cracked open and a pair of blue-black eyes caught his in the darkness.
"Ranma?" The eyes blinked, sleepily. She obviously wasn't very alert or awake. Then again, who would be this early in the morning?
"Um..." He looked away from her eyes, and held out the piglet. "Here."
She blinked again, the sleep quickly leaving her features, though they were still largely obscured by darkness. "Is... P-chan? Is that...?"
"It ain't Ryouga. That idiot Mousse tried to trick me by usin' him. He was wandering around. And I kind of thought you might, um... want a pet or something." Ranma realized he was babbling, so he just held out his hands a little further.
The pig looked up at Akane. Slowly, she reached out and took him into her arms, while stepping more into the light from the hallway. The animal seemed to settle into her comfortably. Ranma figured his former owner, before either Mousse or Ukyou picked him up, had probably held him like that. Akane smiled, warmly, first to the pig, and then to him.
"Thanks. Ranma," she began, and blushed a bit, though it was nearly impossible to see.
Ranma saw.
"No problem." He suddenly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. "Sorry about waking you up... but, you know, I'm no good with animals, and..."
"I understand," she cut him off. They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, before Akane licked her dry lips, and rubbed one of her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning, Ranma."
"Y... Yeah."
"G'night." She closed the door, and Ranma was alone in the hallway - only himself, and his thoughts.
"G'night. ...Akane," he said to no one save himself. "You looked... nice..."
***
Ryouga blinked a few times and scrunched his eyes carefully with two fingers to get the sleep out of them. It wasn't often, really, that he was so rudely woken up. Worse still, he had been having a pleasant dream about Nabiki and... a trickle of blood ran down his upper lip from his left nostril. Brushing it away with the thumb of his free hand, he licked the blood off his finger and wiped it off on his shirt. Looking down the expanse of his arm, at the latest target of his ire, he sighed.
"What kind of a life is this, anyway?"
He didn't get an answer. But that was all right with the lost boy. He doubted anyone really had an answer to that query that he would like. In the distance, a car drove by, the sound of its passing filling the air. One of many that night. An old rail yard wasn't Ryouga's idea of the nicest place to stay, not just because of the noise, but it also lacked a certain ambiance. A certain atmosphere.
But he wasn't choosey.
"You know..." He said, looking around. "This place does seem kind of familiar..."
Then again, a lot of places were 'very familiar' to him in Tokyo. Another car drove by, more slowly this time, its headlights briefly illuminating the windows above them. He had probably wandered through here once or twice over the years, but this was definitely the first time he'd set up camp for the night. Ryouga, as a rule, preferred to camp out in parks when in a city. Barring that, a rooftop was often acceptable. As a very last resort, he part with a little money and get a room at a local motel. However, this night, even that hadn't been an option.
"Anyway. You caught me at a bad time." Ryouga explained, voice calm but obviously tired. "And in a bad mood." His grip tightened a fraction. "I didn't realize that my presence here was unacceptable. You have my... apologies."
Letting go of the man's neck, in what seemed like slow motion to his battle honed senses, Ryouga touched the man's shoulder while still in midair. Pushing just with his wrist, the lost boy sent the man spinning like a top through the air, landing in a crumpled heap ten feet away. Slowly, he then looked down at the cigarette lighter in his other hand.
"Your friend was going to burn me with this?" Ryouga took a step forward. The two other men nearby both took steps back. Still in a foul mood, Ryouga hardly hesitated, and his left arm became a blur. Instantly, one of the men fell to the ground, howling like an animal and clutching his face. His knife, a sad little thing, fell to the dusty ground without a sound. Joining it on the ground, the man tried desperately to get the broken bits of the lighter out of the side of his face, while trying to keep the lighter fluid out of his eyes.
The last of the three tried to run.
He got ten steps before Ryouga crossed the distance and caught up, picking him up by the belt and dumping him on the ground. Standing over him, Ryouga watched as the man reached for the lead pipe he'd just dropped. The lost boy waited, waited, until he almost had it in his hand, before stepping down, fast as lightning. The sound of the man's wrist breaking was almost music to his ears.
"I reserve my hate for Saotome Ranma. It is his fault I'm here. But you..." Ryouga sneered. "You just sicken me. I hope you didn't expect mercy. HE might have shown you some, but I am not him. I don't care about you."
"W... W... wait man..."
"Oh?" Ryouga paused. "This now, when just a minute ago you were saying something about... Now, what did you say again?"
"I don't ... don't... I dunno..."
"Something about me being a hobo... a drunken wino fouling up the fine streets of the Japanese capital?" Ryouga finally took his foot off the man's broken wrist. "Now. That's no reason to kill someone. I should know. I'm planning on killing someone, and I have a much better reason for it."
The man rolled over into a ball, holding his right arm protectively. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit... not me, please not me..."
Ryouga laughed softly. "As if I would kill you! Normally, I can't stand those that pick on the weak. Which was exactly what you were planning on doing. If you had been luckier, I would've actually been a defenseless hobo, and you could have had a nice little cookout with him. So naturally, I had to teach you a lesson: know who you're going to kill before you commit to it."
"You... You're not going to kill me?" The man seemed not to have heard anything except that part. Ryouga sighed and shook his head.
"OH... oh thank you! Thank you!"
Ryouga watched, impassive, as the man sobbed and thanked him. Oh, he had thought about killing all three of them when what they were planning on doing registered in the lost boy's mind. But there was no need, and little justification. Luckily, even in his sleep, his martial artist's sixth sense had warned him, and he'd gotten out of the tent just after the fools started spraying it down with some sort of bug spray.
Now it smelled funny.
Ignoring the three beaten men, Ryouga walked to his tent and started packing things up. There was nothing to gain by lingering. He still didn't know where he was exactly, but it was still Tokyo - for that bit of information, at least, he could thank the three morons that had tried to do him in. He watched, cautiously, as the man who had the lighter thrown at him stumbled off, groping the wall blindly and abandoning his unconscious friend to help the one with the broken wrist. Finishing packing up his things a few minutes after the two left, Ryouga hefted his bag and went on his way.
But the experience had left him shaken.
Why had those three men been out to kill someone they didn't even know? He couldn't fathom the thinking of it. Logically, the three of them must have hated the homeless in the city and thus decided to do something about it. Yet those three didn't seem the most rational people in Japan, and that was hardly an excuse to kill someone.
What excuse did he have?
Ranma. Ranma. Ranma. Thoughts of the pigtailed boy haunted him, consumed him. They drove him to heights of martial arts and lows of humanity. Ryouga remembered when he had met Ukyou, soon after the Bakusai Tenketsu fight... he had been so bitter, so angry, so resentful that he hadn't thought twice about encouraging her to find and punish Ranma. He had told her about Ranma's curse, his habits, his strengths and weaknesses... He had known, even then, what it wasn't the honorable thing to do. It wasn't the right thing to do. As much of a lout Ranma was, he would NEVER have done the same in Ryouga's position.
Why did Ranma have to die?
Wandering the streets, he pondered this from a new angle. From a new light. From a fresh perspective. He needed his revenge, for every insult, spoken and unspoken. This was the core of his hatred, and the power of purpose that forced his hand. Ranma had to die, because Hibiki Ryouga could not live in the same world as that man. He could not. He would not!
Why?
It taxed him to think why, and not completely cloud it with anger. Immediately, Akane and P-chan came to mind. Ranma treated Akane terribly... harshly... unkindly... Well, he treated her no better than his father, or Soun, or anyone else. It was no excuse, but it was simple fact. Ranma just wasn't very personable. Much like himself, Ryouga hated to admit. The pig curse, of course, Ranma was directly responsible for. Yet, at the same time, Ryouga was himself indirectly responsible for it. Of the two, more fault had to lie with Ranma. That, then, must have been the 'why.'
He hated Ranma because of the pig curse.
Somewhat satisfied with that answer, Ryouga concentrated on his walking and the pacing of his steps. Streetlights cast his shadow long and dark along his path, and Ryouga found himself wishing for the dawn. Looking down at his hand, at his fist, he saw not the hand of a young man, not even eighteen... he saw the hand of a man who held the life of another in its grip. To kill or not to kill. So far, he had adhered to the latter.
"I hate Ranma because of the pig curse." He said to himself, knowing already that it was a lie. He would not kill someone for something so superficial. The curse had done nothing to endear Ranma to him, most certainly not, but killing... Oh, what a lamentable and immutable step that was! If Genma had knocked him in (and in reality Ranma's old man was also somewhat responsible) would Ryouga have wanted to murder him?
... No.
And that simple revelation shook Ryouga to the core.
"The bread... the teasing... everything..." Ryouga hissed under his breath. These were all superficial reasons. Why? Why kill this man?! "Why?"
"WHY?!?"
He must die.
"If he is to die, I must know why. I must understand." Ryouga rubbed his eyes, still feeling tired. Ranma had gotten him lost, on purpose no doubt, and here he was. Miserable as always. This must be the reason. Ranma brought him nothing but misery. Remembering the climax to the Bakusai Tenketsu fight, Ryouga saw again the two of them falling off that cliff. He saw again that moment, that time he had... it was more than enough to drive his belt sword into Ranma's back... why did he hesitate? Why did he forgive those offenses? Why did reason after reason to kill that man get struck down?
Why did Ranma still haunt him?
Why did his presence still fill the lost boy with rage? For the last eight months, he had spent the better part of his time under the blinding, comforting mist of hatred - of vengeance - driving every action and reaction. Why, damn it?!
"I hate Ranma. I hate him... I hate him..." Ryouga tried to answer, tried to understand. "Akane... he cost me Akane. Yet, I cost myself Akane. She treated me like a pet when I behaved like one. I treated her like an object, when she wasn't one. Akane wanted Ranma..."
"The curse. I hate the curse... that damn body... Ranma scarred me for life." Ryouga pondered that. "Yet, Ranma also has a curse. Not as bad as mine, but it was certainly something. And the way he flaunts it, uses it..."
Eyes widening, Ryouga paused in his steps. Directly under a streetlight, his shadow lay only beneath his feet. Slowly, horribly, it came to him. "I hate Ranma... because... because..."
Why?
"Because he's like me." Ryouga's face became a scowl. "A better me..."
He denied it at first. He was nothing like Ranma! Nothing... Holding his head, Ryouga wrestled with the very notion and tried to disprove it. The curse! He and Ranma both had them, but his was worse. He could only use his to demean himself. Ranma used his to get what he wanted, be it free food, a refreshing swim, or an excuse to fight back against women like Kodachi and Shampoo. There was no redeeming quality to turning into a piglet... not anymore...
Even in Martial arts! Despite his recent victory, Ryouga knew Ranma was more than a rival... When he had seen him, in junior high school, Ryouga had known that he was a threat. Back then, the only good thing about school was the role Ryouga had made for himself. He was the strongest, the toughest, and in many ways the meanest... no one made fun of him when he was around, and when weaker kids were being bullied, he stepped in and helped them. In that way, he had some small role to play that he could be proud of, and some tiny sliver of pride in himself.
But Ranma... was better... Ranma took his role, just like he took his bread, and cast him aside. Even without intending it. Ranma, too, interceded to help others, and the fights between the two boys over the bread only proved what Ryouga had known, even back then: that Ranma was better than him. Ranma didn't get lost. He was more reliable. People *liked* him! And without his role, Ryouga was nothing but trash; his pride and respect little more than hollowed out wrappers on the cafeteria floor.
Ranma: who spent his life wandering around. Of everyone, Ranma could understand what it was like to be rootless, but he had his father. Ryouga had no one. Always, always, Ranma could rely on his father to be there for him. Even if Genma abused his role as father, as he had heard horror stories about, Ryouga still felt the bloody pang of jealousy, because he knew that for every bad moment, there had to be hundreds of happy ones. Moments of joy, training, learning, playing, that Ryouga would never know.
Ranma was his better. So long as Ranma lived, there could be no place for Ryouga in the world. Holding the lamppost next to him, Ryouga remembered the fight he'd just been involved in. Ranma... Ranma would have been gentler with those scumbags. Ranma would have just knocked them out, like Ryouga knew he could have, but chose not to. Ranma... was the better man. He had everything Ryouga ever wanted, and he was everything Ryouga was, but more!
That was why...!
That was why he had to die.
"It is impossible to undo what was done, to un-become what we are. A man like me cannot change." Ryouga growled, and clenched his fist. The lamppost creaked and deformed in his hand, before he let go. "This is what I am. This is who I am. And it must be something... I will not become nothing...."
Defeat Ranma. Become the best.
That was the only possible course of action.
Ryouga clenched his fist tightly, and felt the power flow through his body. It felt overwhelming... intoxicating... Closing his eyes, he enjoyed it, far more than he would ever admit. It was beyond impossible to go back now, just as it was impossible to live with himself if he did nothing. He would defeat Ranma. He would ... kill him... and then he would be somebody. Because if Ranma lived and lost, then he would only challenge him again and again, and sooner or later, the pigtailed boy would win. And no one, ever, would know happiness or permanence. No!
One of them had to die.
"Ranma..." Ryouga slowly smiled. "You will either kill me, and become worse than me... or you will die. Either way, Hibiki Ryouga wins!"
And he laughed, long and loud.
***
Ranma
I told him to get lost.
Well, to be more exact, I made him get lost. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The bastard had it coming, really, after that stunt he pulled for New Year's. I couldn't let it go unanswered, so I lured him out of his house, pissed him off, and ran like hell. He was actually catching up on me, even though I had a good head start on him, when I ducked into a shopping center. Next thing I know, he's gone.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Get the directionally challenged idiot lost for almost two weeks and make sure the duel didn't take place before my training with Cologne was finished, or near-finished. I didn't expect anything more would come from it - then, when Nabiki heard about it, she slapped me. I honestly couldn't believe it. True, it wasn't like Kasumi did it, but Nabiki... who expected it from her? The stupid pig-boy must've grown on her or something. I actually thought she'd be happy, because it'd force me to keep paying her according to our 'deal' from before.
Even Akane didn't understand! Damn that kawaiikune tomboy! I swear, every time I think she starts to understand how I feel, or who and what I am, she proves me wrong! Its not like I'm going out with Shampoo because I want to. It's a means to an end, and a way to pacify the old ghoul so I can keep training. Hell, I even tried explaining it, but she refused to listen. This whole fiancée thing is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of.
Akane
Baka!
That baka! I can't believe he'd go steady with Shampoo, just to train with her great grandmother! How could he just turn his back on me... my school like that? He sleeps under our roof, eats our food, barely even goes to school anymore, and acts like he'd king of the place. Every day, he comes back tired and beaten, barely says a word to anyone, eats something, and goes to sleep. He barely even looks at me anymore!
It's not like I like him or anything.
No. I never liked him. Of course not. But he was nice to have around, once in a blue moon, and sometimes he was handy for beating up Kuno or whatever. I never liked him, understand, but he was fun to be around sometimes. But... I miss him in school. I miss him at home. Can't he see that I'm worried about him? He must know. All he's doing is feeding Ryouga's anger. He's going to try and kill you Ranma! He needs a friend! He needs a family! Not an enemy! Ranma... talk to me... walk with me...
Not that I like him that way!
Just... the Principal's back from Hawaii, and I don't want to think what it'd be like if not for Ukyou and even Kuno. They're basically the only two people who can keep him in check, seeing as how often Ranma skips school or simply sleeps through the classes. Sometimes Mousse stops by, too, usually on his way to delivering something or whatever, and helps. He and Ukyou seem to get along well, and its always fun to see them double team the Principal whenever he tries anything outrageous.
Ukyou
I don't know how many of that jackass' barber tools I've taken away from him. It's just our dumb luck that the idiot is a Kuno, and as rich as Siberia is wide, so he seems to have an unlimited supply of them. Beating the moron up is good therapy, especially since his own family seems to hate him as much as anyone, and everyone, else. Mousse and I have been plotting to get revenge on Saotome again, and we've been training hard to get better, but I've seen, and gotten involved in, some of Cologne's training.
Every day, Ranma gets just that much better than me.
Faster. Stronger. More skilled. At this rate, it's going to be impossible to get my revenge. He may have beaten me half to death the last time we fought, if not for... Damn him. It doesn't matter. I can see Ryouga now. He's been lost for almost a month, but I see him. I suppose Nabiki'll be happy, though the thought isn't a pleasant one. As I bump into him, I'm tempted to question him about it, but a hard look in his eyes is all the discouragement I need. He's here for business.
He's here for revenge. I recognize the look in his eyes. It's the same one that I see every morning in the mirror, except with a terrible intensity that sends a chill down my spine. What are you planning, Ryouga? Is it that you're out to get revenge for everyone, or is your own hate so deep, so powerful... I don't want to see that hate in your eyes, Ryouga. They're too beautiful to be clouded by it. I want revenge just like you do, but... but where is it all leading? Will it really make us happy? I used to think so, but now I know what its like to be happy, and those times aren't when I'm fighting Ranma...
Nabiki
Things have gotten complicated.
I've lost control of the situation, and even myself. I need someone to talk to, and settle for Kasumi, but she doesn't really follow what I'm hesitant to outright say, to her, or to anyone. I still can't believe Ranma goaded him into getting lost! I can't believe I didn't see it coming! I can't believe Ryouga would fall for such an obvious trick! I can't believe I was actually starting to like that directionally challenged idiot!
How am I supposed to know what's going on, now?
How am I supposed to be in control?
How am I supposed to prevent what I know is going to happen between those two fools? I can't even control myself, anymore. After I found out, when I ran into that damn brother-in-law of mine, it was like I wasn't even there. It was like another Tendo Nabiki had taken over. I hit him, and hurt my hand for my trouble. There was only one way to hurt him - I scheduled the match for as soon as Ryouga shows up. He bitched about it, of course, so I told him to tell someone who cared. Look at me. I'm getting emotional over some guy. It's worse than that crush I had on Kuno-chan freshman year!
I must have a weakness for morons.
Our whole family probably has the same problem. It's genetic.
The days fly by, but nothing memorable happens. Nothing that makes me care about what goes on around me. Old Principal Kuno is back, but Ukyou and Kuno and Mousse usually take care of him, and he generally leaves the upperclassmen alone, anyway. I've hyped up the match, sent our fliers, and gotten the preliminary reports on who would be betting on whom. It's going to be in the soccer field, where they had their first fight, and the bets were slightly in favor of Ranma. I spread some information about his training with Cologne, and put rumors into circulation where they need to be. The vote swings more in Ranma's favor.
I get some control back, but it isn't enough. In the end, all I've done is help myself. I'm sorry. All I can do now is pray. Pray that neither of them kills the other. Pray that this mess ends today. This dirty money... I never thought... didn't anticipate... I don't want it soaked by blood. There's no profit in revenge. Only loss.
Mousse
Damn it.
Where is he?
I'm not blind. Not really. I've watched Saotome and Shampoo closely the last few weeks. They go out every Saturday and Tuesday, sometimes to see a movie, sometimes they just walk. It doesn't matter. I'm not blind. I can see that there's nothing between them - no spark, no love, no hope if not for that thrice damned Amazon Law. I attacked him the first few times, without even thinking. All it took was seeing Shampoo hold him closely, and look at him like I've always dreamt of her looking at me, and what little control I had over myself crashed to pieces at my feet.
He beat me effortlessly.
I've been training - some of the hardest, more intense training of my life, with Ukyou, and he's still just that much better than me. I cursed him, at first. Then it became obvious that Shampoo was wasting her time... Ranma didn't respond to her, and the distinct hurry behind his movements and words belied his intentions. He wanted each experience over with as quickly as possible so he could get back to more important things.
Cologne had really screwed the pooch this time.
Instead of him growing closer to Shampoo, he was starting to see her as more of an obstacle between him and his training than anything. And, just like that, the anger began to dissipate. I watched them, from afar, and saw how Shampoo gradually began to give up. They walked in silence more often than not, but it was a nervous silence, an unfamiliar silence: the silence that exists between strangers, because that's what they were, and always would be. My heart had soared at the thought, and the prospect, of Shampoo being mine. Then, as always, everything had come crashing down.
Shampoo
Stupid Mousse!
He doesn't think, that one. I don't need my failings pointed out, not by anyone, and especially not by him! And especially not now! Does he think I don't know that Ranma doesn't care about me? Does he think I like trying to seduce him, this foolish foreigner male, when it should be the other way around? I am Joketsuzoku, and I am proud! I don't need Ranma, and I certainly don't need Mu Tzu.
Good riddance to him.
Good riddance to both of them.
I see Ukyou, and wave. She's nice enough, though she seems to be spending more time with Mousse than with me. She waves back, and I see just whom she's with. A smile comes unbidden, and I quickly finish sweeping the front of the store. They don't wait, but it's all right. I know where she's taking him. Mousse comes first, then my great grandmother, and we head for Furinkan High. This charade between Ranma and myself has gone on long enough - it ends here and now. When Ryouga beats him, it'll be all the reason I need to annul the marriage. It'll be my way of making amends with him. Maybe, after this, we can be friends. I'd like to have more friends...
Ryouga
I walk past the gate, and into the school grounds.
There are students everywhere. I see Kuno, watching things closely, next to Nabiki, in the section of students containing the juniors and seniors. Good. She should be safe near him. My eyes meet hers, and a strange feeling washes over me. She looks almost happy, and yet, somehow disappointed. I know why. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want the fight to come, and the cycle to continue.
She understands.
She understands me.
She just doesn't like that things have to be the way they are. She thinks that I want to lose, that deep down, I need to lose. That I subconsciously don't think I'm worthy of winning, or of wielding the power that I do. I denied it at first, but over the last month, I've realized she's at least half right. The cycle continues, feeding on itself, because I don't know any other way. I beat Ranma - he must beat me. He beats me, and I must train and wander, until I can defeat him. I have nothing else.
I had nothing else.
It is only half of the truth. I do what I do, because it must be done. Histories are written about the soldiers who won their battles; but songs are sung about the soldiers who fell in battle struggling for a greater cause. What inspires us is the unfinished work, the dream of picking up the fallen standard and taking it ten more feet up the hill, knowing that even if you fall, the next man in line will take it another ten feet, until finally the hill is taken. My greater cause, my triumph and my failing, is to fight. And what is a fight, without an enemy? What is life, without a goal?
Emptiness.
I look away from her, and to the rest of the crowd. I see Nabiki's hirelings moving around, collecting bets, talking, and doing their business. They remind me of vultures, but even vultures are a necessary part of the world. I see Akane. She looks sad. At what, I do not know, and cannot guess. Ukyou steps up to me, as I walk onto the soccer field. Her hands touch my shoulders, and I let her slip the backpack off me.
"Good luck, sugar," I hear her, and then she's gone, disappeared into the crowd. The wind starts to pick up, and I see Mousse, Shampoo, and Cologne on the school wall. Shampoo is sitting on the edge, watching intently. Mousse has his arms crossed, his long hair swaying in the wind, and a gleam in his thick lenses. Cologne seems only mildly interested, but I can see the very slight tension in her posture.
It's cloudy, but rain shouldn't be a major factor.
Ranma steps forward, his stride purposeful and slow. I measure his movements. I know who he's been training with, and how long. With practiced ease, I draw my umbrella, and plant it into the ground. My senses are now a razor's edge, and as I stretch out my muscles, I see Ranma do the same. The barest hint of his Ki reaches me, and I am surprised.
He is cold.
But there is a power behind the cold, like the chill wind from the north. The crowd grows silent, as Ranma closes his eyes, takes a stance, and opens them. I do the same, and feel the power burn for release. The crowd backs away, almost as one. My hands are fists, now.
It Begins.
And it Ends.
Now.
"Learning Curve"
Part IX (v1.4)
by: J. Wagner
"I'll KILL him!" Ranma stormed into the Nekohanten.
Shampoo was the only one up, and she rubbed her eyes to get the sleep out of them. "Kill who? Airen come see Shampoo? Shampoo very happy, but is very early."
Ranma scowled. "Where's the old ghoul?"
"She in back." Shampoo motioned with her hand, and locked the front door. They didn't open for two hours, and Shampoo couldn't be happier for that fact. The late night fight she'd gotten involved in had been tiring, and she'd had to drag Mousse back after Ranma finally knocked him unconscious. Fortunately, he'd been in his duck form, and hadn't been that hard to carry. He'd left miscellaneous weapons all over the Tendo dojo and yard, too, but those were his responsibility to clean up after. She'd only taken her home with her because Ukyou had asked, right before she'd passed out on the roof. The two of them had come out of the fight the worst, physically.
Shampoo still owed that annoying stick-boy for last night, too. After Ranma-chan had been forced to turn her attentions to Happosai, and Mousse, and Ukyou, she'd been left alone trying to fend off his attacks. She had been weaponless, too, and no matter how often she beat him into the ground he got back up a few seconds later. It was almost like he had the endurance of the Bakusai Tenketsu training, though, fortunately, not the resistance to damage. Still, he'd been tenacious enough to be beyond annoying.
"Ugh." Shampoo suddenly remembered that she was scheduled to participate in a Martial Arts Ping Pong Tournament later in the day. Right now, she was seriously considering skipping it entirely. Ranma was gone, already, and frankly, Shampoo was too tired to give a damn. It was something to deal with later. Going upstairs to her room, she tuned out, and went back to sleep. Downstairs, Ranma finally found the object of his search. Cologne studied him carefully, totally alert despite the time.
"Yes, boy?"
"I need trainin,' old ghoul." He paused. "And you're the best there is around here."
"And why should I train you, hmm?" Cologne asked, frankly.
"You trained him to beat me."
"Only because it got me what I wanted. ...Or would have, anyway, had you not run away."
"I didn't run away. It was the Saotome Secret Technique. It's based on the concepts of 'motion,' 'contemplation,' and 'opposition.'"
"You ran away," Cologne said again, and he sighed in exasperation.
"Ok, I ran away! Happy now?"
"No."
Cologne clasped her hands together and considered things. Her training of the lost boy had been twofold. Hibiki Ryouga was Ranma's contemporary, and showed a similarly exceptional skill for martial arts. Training him would both give her a connection to him that she could use later, with him as an ally, and when Shampoo came along, Cologne was quick to realize it could well bring those two together as well. Optimally, such an association would make Ranma more jealous, and allow the two to compete over her granddaughter instead of the violent Tendo girl. Either of them would be fine, and Shampoo would have the choice and the room to pick and choose at her leisure. It would also force them to grow dependant on her to advance their skill levels... once they began to grow familiar with the Amazon techniques, it was only a matter of time before they would want to join the tribe themselves, if only to keep close to the source of their martial arts improvement, and a desire not to be left behind.
Ranma was easily the most naturally skilled young person, of either gender, that Cologne had seen in decades. He was incredibly fast, and his mind soaked up martial arts like a sponge. In typical male fashion, he was also greedy, rather short sighted, and dim witted - much like his father. This was both a good and bad thing. It was good, because he could be easily manipulated, and it was bad, because it was annoying and constantly grated on her nerves. Of course, when she heard from her great granddaughter that Hibiki Ryouga had returned, or was trying to, it made this meeting between them inevitable. Things were proceeding slowly, but they were proceeding as she had anticipated. They were both fools, but useful fools, especially if the situation she'd heard was developing in China turned sour.
At that thought, she became slightly worried.
"I will train you," she began. "And you... will date my great granddaughter, steadily, for so long as you remain under my tutelage."
Ranma scratched his chin. "What's to keep you from dragging it out? Slowing things down, so I'm forced to date Shampoo longer than I should have to?"
"Why..." She smiled. He was a little smarter than she thought. "Nothing, of course."
Ranma's fists clenched. She had him backed into a corner, and they both knew it. After a few seconds of silence, Ranma leaned over, and looked her in the eyes. "Only if you make me good enough to win."
Cologne blinked, slowly. "I think I can manage that."
"I want your word."
"You have my solemn word, as a Joketsuzoku Elder."
"Good." Ranma stood back up. "Good."
"Indeed," Cologne whispered, softly. "Things could hardly be better."
***
"How did I get into this mess?" Ranma thought, and not for the first time. He was, currently, trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Outside, a super strong Tendo Akane waited, less than patiently, for gods knew what. She had been taking advantage of her new strength not only to beat him down, of late, but also to avenge her past losses to Shampoo by challenging her to a round of 'Martial Arts Ping Pong.' It all sounded ridiculous, but then again, there were rumors going around of a 'Martial Arts Tea Ceremony' Dojo somewhere nearby, so nothing really surprised him anymore.
Under the large iron bell that Shampoo was currently holding up over her head, said girl was looking at him with a mixture of annoyance, and something else, he wasn't sure what. If he had to wager a guess, Ranma figured it was probably simple confusion. Somehow, she'd gotten some of the Super Soba for herself, and the two women were about to tear the town apart with their bare hands by batting multi-ton shrine bells around. Needless to say, the whole situation was... what was that American word: whacked? Ranma rubbed his temples in frustration, and reached into his left pocket, taking out a tiny radish.
Luckily, there was a simple and easily acquired antidote to the Super Soba. There were also side effects to said super-noodles, yes, that he'd personally prefer neither girl had, but those concerns were secondary. It was a matter of pride - and the hurt of said pride in the face of being humiliated by Akane over the last day and a half. It was time to put an end to it, so he could concentrate on more important things, namely his training to beat the Lost Boy and regain his rightful place as the strongest and greatest in Nerima. Akane could grow whiskers until she tripped on them. His greatest concern was to put things back into their place, restore the proper status quo, and make damn sure things stayed there.
Ranma had to be the best; he HAD to be!
"Shampoo!" Ranma smiled, brightly. "Open wide, please."
Shampoo walked over, batted her eyes, and opened her mouth obediently.
"There's a good girl." Ranma popped the little radish into her mouth, and instantly her arms gave out, and the bell fell down behind her, trapping them under it.
"Now, for a certain kawaiikune tomboy..." Ranma went over to the edge and dug his fingers just barely under the edge of the massive iron bell. Slowly, he started to lift the massive weight, before his arms fatigued and he fell back, breathing heavily. He heard Shampoo come up from behind, and felt her small, but still strong hands on his shoulders.
"Now Airen and Shampoo all along in dark." She crawled up to him and purred in his ear. "You kiss Shampoo?"
"Ahh..." Ranma looked from her, to where he knew Akane was standing, on the other side of the iron. He spoke more loudly, "AH! Shampoo! Don't touch me THERE!"
Instantly, he grabbed Shampoo's head, and ducked. Inches from where their faces had both been, something hard and heavy cut through the air ...and half the iron bell they were trapped under. Akane was livid with rage, now, and trembling. "Rrraaannmmaa! What do you think you're doing?"
"Nothing!" He jumped up, casually, taking out another of the antidote radishes. "Say 'aah.'"
"Aah." Akane opened her mouth, but clamped her jaws shut a heartbeat before he could pop the little vegetable into her mouth. "What was that?"
Ranma shrugged, as if it was nothing at all. "The antidote."
"Oh no you don't! You're just jealous because I'm stronger than you!"
That was true, but Ranma didn't say as much. It was really the noodles he was jealous of, not her. "You'll be sorry if you don't eat the antidote."
"Yeah, right!" Akane rolled her eyes. "I'm finally strong and you want me to just give it up? Never! You'll have to defeat me in combat first!"
Ranma's eyes narrowed, for only a millisecond. Akane was stronger than him, true, but she was still far slower, clumsier, less experienced and less resistant to damage than Ukyou, Shampoo, Mousse, or even Kuno. She was also a girl, AND his fiancée. Had she been a boy, Ranma would have already demonstrated that strength wasn't everything by reducing him to little bits of idiot strewn around the district. Saotome Ranma had very little patience for this sort of situation. However, given who and what she was, a more ...shrewd method was required to get the job done.
"Then I challenge you to a game of Martial Arts Ping Pong!"
"I accept!" Akane turned, and jumped off the roof, heading towards the ring a couple hundred feet away. Ranma was about to follow her, when, by chance, something unusual caught his eye. There was a bowl just sitting there, on the far side of the roof. Walking over to it, he was joined by Shampoo. She picked it up, looked inside, and shook her head.
"Super Soba all gone. Stupid Happosai! Shampoo going make him make more!" Shampoo threw aside the bowl, and jumped off in some general direction, presumably to look for the ancient pervert. Ranma looked down at the bowl. It wasn't one of theirs, which meant Happosai probably stole it.
"No surprise there." Ranma looked more closely, and saw that there was still a fair amount of crust in a ring along the sides of the bowl, and on the bottom. Neurons traded electrons a couple thousand million times, and an idea slowly but surely began to form. Jumping down, he ducked into a store, and in a few minutes, came out with a small plastic vial full of brownish looking water.
It didn't look pleasant, but Ranma was sure that, if drunk, it would achieve something similar, though watered down, to eating the magical Soba. And even if it only provided a fraction of the strength that Shampoo and Akane got, it would go a good way towards evening the gap between Ryouga and himself in the raw muscle department.
Then again, in a (rare) moment of moral indecision, Ranma realized that taking the drink to get stronger would be undermining everything he'd worked for, and believed in. Strength didn't come from potions, or magic, or anything like that... it came from hard work and training. He knew that. Ryouga knew that. Or did he? Ryouga had been willing to accept 'steroids' from Nabiki, back when they'd had their first Nerima Duel. Maybe he'd done something similar while he was away, in which case, Ranma taking the distilled Essence of Super Soba would only be fair. He'd only be catching up. Then again, even if Ryouga had done that, and he really doubted that the lost boy would, would that make it any more right to take it himself and sink to that level.
Two wrongs, one right, and all that.
Was he really that desperate?
Ryouga was already nearly impossible to put down without hitting him hundreds of times in the same spot, and even then, recently, that tactic had fallen short of the lost boy's newer levels of damage resistance. What if, in not taking a sip from this bit of liquid, he lost the match? He'd be humbled, in an official, public duel, in front of everyone, all because he chosen the morally acceptable route instead of the alternative. Ranma pondered this. His father had been adamant in saying that the point of fighting is to win.
'Any Victory is better than Any Defeat.'
That was the credo of the Saotome School.
Any Victory.
No matter the cost.
Ranma swirled the liquid around in the vial.
No matter the cost.
All he'd have to do is pop the cork and drink it.
No matter the cost.
There was always the antidote, anyway, if he changed his mind. Right? And he could shave every day or so; that way no one would be the wiser, if it even had that effect on men. This could save his life, if Ryouga was really out to kill him like he now suspected. Memories of the night before, the humiliation of the previous two fights, all came to Ranma at once. Victory was what he craved! Victory is what would make everything right again in the world - he was sure of it!
No matter the cost.
It might not even do anything... much.
No matter the cost?
"Ranma!" Akane loudly interrupted his thoughts. "Are you coming or not?!"
"Uh... yeah." Ranma quickly put the vial into a hidden pocket, and went to get some cold water and a change of clothes. He wasn't about to drink it, not now, but he wasn't about to throw it away either. He wasn't like Akane, or even Shampoo. He had to win: had to defeat Ryouga with his own strength, not power borrowed from magic. That sort of victory was hollow and petty. It wasn't worthy of this fight, this duel... this feud. Of this, Ranma was certain.
***
Ryouga's laughter was a deep bass rumble that chilled the flesh down to the bone. His eyes flashed, and for a moment, disappeared into an abyss of white, like an alien sea. His hand moved, almost lazily, to the side, and destruction followed in its wake, tearing the ground at Ranma's feet into shreds of grass and earth. Ranma felt himself involuntarily step back, wavering, fighting his urge to run. Ryouga just seemed amused.
"Go ahead and run, Saotome," he spoke, his tone promising only death.
Ranma could feel his body shaking.
"Run, Ranma. Run away!" His mouth moved into a bemused smirk. "I'll catch you eventually anyway."
He took a step forward, and the ground trembled to the heat of Ranma's heart.
"I always do." Another step, the soft earth splintering at his passing. "I always will."
"Stay back!" Ranma got back into a fighting stance. His muscles burnt from exhaustion, and his lower back threatened to give out completely.
Ryouga just laughed. It was a cold, heartless laughter that only hinted at an insanity grounded in the deepest of hatred. He kept approaching; his footsteps now more like thunderclaps, growing steadily louder and louder. After one or two, they became deafening... almost drowning out thought itself. Ranma concentrated, and looked for a weakness, but there was none. It seemed the whole planet was trembling now, beneath his feet, as if on the verge of falling apart at the seams. Ryouga was massive, too, and as he shook his head back and forth, lazily, dark shapes fell to the ground, slowly coalescing into creatures with legs and claws and fangs.
"You're a coward, boy!" His voice seemed to merge with Genma's. "Everyone knows it, except you."
"N... no!" Ranma looked at his hands - they looked so small, now. Then he realized he was too small, like a boy, and there were sausages and fish cakes and sardines strung and tied around his arms and legs. The terror rose, like bile, and Ranma had to remember to breathe. Only when the sounds started, that horrible hungry mewing, and the barely audible scraping of claws, did Ranma see them, around Ryouga's feet, crawling towards him, eyes glowing like tiny demons.
'Kill them!' Something primal from within screamed. 'Kill them!!'
There was a wave, a great tidal wave that blocked out the sky and the cats were everywhere - fur and claws and teeth and blood and pain. And the only other sound, the only sound that kept him anything near sane, was the laughter. It was Ryouga's laughter, as mirthless and cold as Lake Baikal, and coming from every direction. Moments of madness came and passed, like rapid fire switches, and Ranma saw himself tearing at the little demons, ripping them in half, and screaming: screaming until his lungs hurt and his mouth was dry as the desert and it seemed like he'd never taste air again.
And then, when there was only a sea of blood and ragged fur decorating the world, from horizon to horizon, he stood at the laughing demon, and source of his horror. A voice, kind and gentle, maybe his mother's, told him, 'Kill this thing. Kill him and be a Man.'
So Ranma attacked.
Ryouga still laughed, even as the claws of the Neko-ken cut into his body, carving his skin and shredding it into the winds. He laughed, even as Ranma tore out his eyes. He laughed, and with a single motion too swift to be believed, except for the cyclone of pain it left in its wake, Ryouga smashed him to the ground. And there were suddenly eyes everywhere, and voices, talking and laughing. A heavy boot, like a mountain range squeezed into a footprint, crushed his back, and Ranma couldn't feel his legs.
"I'm only playing with you. You're a little toy to me!" Ryouga's voice returned, and Ranma twisted just enough to see the dark flames of Ki around his nemesis seep into his wounds, sealing them up in seconds. The laughter returned, and reverberated, and was joined by so many others it was impossible to distinguish. It was as if every voice, and every eye, was on him, and reveling in his humiliation.
"Go home to your mommy, boy!" Genma-Ryouga spoke, and the others were silent, if only for a moment. "Though I doubt she'll stomach a weakling like you in Her House."
"I'm... I'm not weak," Ranma spat, in defiance, and the boot rose, only to come down just below his shoulder blades, crushing his spine into a broken mess, and paralyzing him for life.
"No. I suppose not. You're pathetic."
"No." The tears came, and his lips stopped working properly, preferring to make gurgling noises. No. No. NO. NO! NO!!!
"NO!" Ranma bolted upright, drenched in sweat. He looked around in the dark; his eyes only slightly adjusted to the darkness, and saw only his room. To his right, Genma lay, for once in his human form, peacefully sleeping, again, for once. Normally, his old man, now often a Panda, snored like he had a community of gnomes living in his nose who only mined at night. Ranma looked at his hands, and saw that his own nails scraped the insides of his palms, probably while he was sleeping. Slowly composing himself, Ranma got up, and went to the bathroom.
The cold water that ran over his hands almost made Ranma flinch, but he held them under the stream of ice-cold tap water. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noted the circles around his eyes, and cursed under his breath. He hadn't been sleeping that much to begin with, in an effort to improve his endurance, and when he did, the nightmares came full force. Tonights had just been the worst, yet. The ones before were generally subtler.
"Bwee."
"Nani?" Ranma looked down, under the sink, and saw something small and black. Kneeling, he saw the black piglet, and narrowed his eyes. It was minus the bandanna, but it looked identical to Ryouga's cursed form. A moment of annoyance, and even anger, came and went, when he looked into the creature's eyes. It wasn't Ryouga. It wasn't even human. It was just some poor animal. Mousse or Ukyou had probably used it as a lure, and then been unable to find it after the fight last night. He held out his hand, and the piglet tensed to run.
"Come on." Ranma showed it his open palm, and the piglet sniffed it quickly, and relaxed a bit. Ranma sighed, and picked the little pig up - it obviously seemed relieved and relaxed instantly into his arm, which was amazing in and of itself, because animals of all types generally didn't like him that much. Looking at it, Ranma scratched behind the piglet's left ear. "Maybe I should give you to Akane. What do you think of that, hmm?"
"Qee!" It looked up at him, and blinked.
Ranma considered what he had just said. The pig seemed nice enough, and it was, after all, just an animal. It might even make up for how he'd treated her earlier, when after curing her of the Super Soba, he beat her a dozen times or so in arm wrestling, just to make sure that he was back to form, and in their normal roles. At the time, it had just been natural... a way to take out the stress of before, but in retrospect, she hadn't been very friendly (not that she usually was anyway) the rest of the day. And, of course, Nabiki and Kasumi hadn't been too approving of his behavior, either. Luckily, Soun just seemed happy his daughter wouldn't be competing with him in the facial hair department.
Before Ranma really knew what he was doing, he had already tapped lightly on Akane's door. When he realized it, really realized where he was and what he was doing, he almost left. Maybe Akane would have just thought she imagined it? Too late for him to make a run for it the door cracked open and a pair of blue-black eyes caught his in the darkness.
"Ranma?" The eyes blinked, sleepily. She obviously wasn't very alert or awake. Then again, who would be this early in the morning?
"Um..." He looked away from her eyes, and held out the piglet. "Here."
She blinked again, the sleep quickly leaving her features, though they were still largely obscured by darkness. "Is... P-chan? Is that...?"
"It ain't Ryouga. That idiot Mousse tried to trick me by usin' him. He was wandering around. And I kind of thought you might, um... want a pet or something." Ranma realized he was babbling, so he just held out his hands a little further.
The pig looked up at Akane. Slowly, she reached out and took him into her arms, while stepping more into the light from the hallway. The animal seemed to settle into her comfortably. Ranma figured his former owner, before either Mousse or Ukyou picked him up, had probably held him like that. Akane smiled, warmly, first to the pig, and then to him.
"Thanks. Ranma," she began, and blushed a bit, though it was nearly impossible to see.
Ranma saw.
"No problem." He suddenly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. "Sorry about waking you up... but, you know, I'm no good with animals, and..."
"I understand," she cut him off. They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, before Akane licked her dry lips, and rubbed one of her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning, Ranma."
"Y... Yeah."
"G'night." She closed the door, and Ranma was alone in the hallway - only himself, and his thoughts.
"G'night. ...Akane," he said to no one save himself. "You looked... nice..."
***
Ryouga blinked a few times and scrunched his eyes carefully with two fingers to get the sleep out of them. It wasn't often, really, that he was so rudely woken up. Worse still, he had been having a pleasant dream about Nabiki and... a trickle of blood ran down his upper lip from his left nostril. Brushing it away with the thumb of his free hand, he licked the blood off his finger and wiped it off on his shirt. Looking down the expanse of his arm, at the latest target of his ire, he sighed.
"What kind of a life is this, anyway?"
He didn't get an answer. But that was all right with the lost boy. He doubted anyone really had an answer to that query that he would like. In the distance, a car drove by, the sound of its passing filling the air. One of many that night. An old rail yard wasn't Ryouga's idea of the nicest place to stay, not just because of the noise, but it also lacked a certain ambiance. A certain atmosphere.
But he wasn't choosey.
"You know..." He said, looking around. "This place does seem kind of familiar..."
Then again, a lot of places were 'very familiar' to him in Tokyo. Another car drove by, more slowly this time, its headlights briefly illuminating the windows above them. He had probably wandered through here once or twice over the years, but this was definitely the first time he'd set up camp for the night. Ryouga, as a rule, preferred to camp out in parks when in a city. Barring that, a rooftop was often acceptable. As a very last resort, he part with a little money and get a room at a local motel. However, this night, even that hadn't been an option.
"Anyway. You caught me at a bad time." Ryouga explained, voice calm but obviously tired. "And in a bad mood." His grip tightened a fraction. "I didn't realize that my presence here was unacceptable. You have my... apologies."
Letting go of the man's neck, in what seemed like slow motion to his battle honed senses, Ryouga touched the man's shoulder while still in midair. Pushing just with his wrist, the lost boy sent the man spinning like a top through the air, landing in a crumpled heap ten feet away. Slowly, he then looked down at the cigarette lighter in his other hand.
"Your friend was going to burn me with this?" Ryouga took a step forward. The two other men nearby both took steps back. Still in a foul mood, Ryouga hardly hesitated, and his left arm became a blur. Instantly, one of the men fell to the ground, howling like an animal and clutching his face. His knife, a sad little thing, fell to the dusty ground without a sound. Joining it on the ground, the man tried desperately to get the broken bits of the lighter out of the side of his face, while trying to keep the lighter fluid out of his eyes.
The last of the three tried to run.
He got ten steps before Ryouga crossed the distance and caught up, picking him up by the belt and dumping him on the ground. Standing over him, Ryouga watched as the man reached for the lead pipe he'd just dropped. The lost boy waited, waited, until he almost had it in his hand, before stepping down, fast as lightning. The sound of the man's wrist breaking was almost music to his ears.
"I reserve my hate for Saotome Ranma. It is his fault I'm here. But you..." Ryouga sneered. "You just sicken me. I hope you didn't expect mercy. HE might have shown you some, but I am not him. I don't care about you."
"W... W... wait man..."
"Oh?" Ryouga paused. "This now, when just a minute ago you were saying something about... Now, what did you say again?"
"I don't ... don't... I dunno..."
"Something about me being a hobo... a drunken wino fouling up the fine streets of the Japanese capital?" Ryouga finally took his foot off the man's broken wrist. "Now. That's no reason to kill someone. I should know. I'm planning on killing someone, and I have a much better reason for it."
The man rolled over into a ball, holding his right arm protectively. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit... not me, please not me..."
Ryouga laughed softly. "As if I would kill you! Normally, I can't stand those that pick on the weak. Which was exactly what you were planning on doing. If you had been luckier, I would've actually been a defenseless hobo, and you could have had a nice little cookout with him. So naturally, I had to teach you a lesson: know who you're going to kill before you commit to it."
"You... You're not going to kill me?" The man seemed not to have heard anything except that part. Ryouga sighed and shook his head.
"OH... oh thank you! Thank you!"
Ryouga watched, impassive, as the man sobbed and thanked him. Oh, he had thought about killing all three of them when what they were planning on doing registered in the lost boy's mind. But there was no need, and little justification. Luckily, even in his sleep, his martial artist's sixth sense had warned him, and he'd gotten out of the tent just after the fools started spraying it down with some sort of bug spray.
Now it smelled funny.
Ignoring the three beaten men, Ryouga walked to his tent and started packing things up. There was nothing to gain by lingering. He still didn't know where he was exactly, but it was still Tokyo - for that bit of information, at least, he could thank the three morons that had tried to do him in. He watched, cautiously, as the man who had the lighter thrown at him stumbled off, groping the wall blindly and abandoning his unconscious friend to help the one with the broken wrist. Finishing packing up his things a few minutes after the two left, Ryouga hefted his bag and went on his way.
But the experience had left him shaken.
Why had those three men been out to kill someone they didn't even know? He couldn't fathom the thinking of it. Logically, the three of them must have hated the homeless in the city and thus decided to do something about it. Yet those three didn't seem the most rational people in Japan, and that was hardly an excuse to kill someone.
What excuse did he have?
Ranma. Ranma. Ranma. Thoughts of the pigtailed boy haunted him, consumed him. They drove him to heights of martial arts and lows of humanity. Ryouga remembered when he had met Ukyou, soon after the Bakusai Tenketsu fight... he had been so bitter, so angry, so resentful that he hadn't thought twice about encouraging her to find and punish Ranma. He had told her about Ranma's curse, his habits, his strengths and weaknesses... He had known, even then, what it wasn't the honorable thing to do. It wasn't the right thing to do. As much of a lout Ranma was, he would NEVER have done the same in Ryouga's position.
Why did Ranma have to die?
Wandering the streets, he pondered this from a new angle. From a new light. From a fresh perspective. He needed his revenge, for every insult, spoken and unspoken. This was the core of his hatred, and the power of purpose that forced his hand. Ranma had to die, because Hibiki Ryouga could not live in the same world as that man. He could not. He would not!
Why?
It taxed him to think why, and not completely cloud it with anger. Immediately, Akane and P-chan came to mind. Ranma treated Akane terribly... harshly... unkindly... Well, he treated her no better than his father, or Soun, or anyone else. It was no excuse, but it was simple fact. Ranma just wasn't very personable. Much like himself, Ryouga hated to admit. The pig curse, of course, Ranma was directly responsible for. Yet, at the same time, Ryouga was himself indirectly responsible for it. Of the two, more fault had to lie with Ranma. That, then, must have been the 'why.'
He hated Ranma because of the pig curse.
Somewhat satisfied with that answer, Ryouga concentrated on his walking and the pacing of his steps. Streetlights cast his shadow long and dark along his path, and Ryouga found himself wishing for the dawn. Looking down at his hand, at his fist, he saw not the hand of a young man, not even eighteen... he saw the hand of a man who held the life of another in its grip. To kill or not to kill. So far, he had adhered to the latter.
"I hate Ranma because of the pig curse." He said to himself, knowing already that it was a lie. He would not kill someone for something so superficial. The curse had done nothing to endear Ranma to him, most certainly not, but killing... Oh, what a lamentable and immutable step that was! If Genma had knocked him in (and in reality Ranma's old man was also somewhat responsible) would Ryouga have wanted to murder him?
... No.
And that simple revelation shook Ryouga to the core.
"The bread... the teasing... everything..." Ryouga hissed under his breath. These were all superficial reasons. Why? Why kill this man?! "Why?"
"WHY?!?"
He must die.
"If he is to die, I must know why. I must understand." Ryouga rubbed his eyes, still feeling tired. Ranma had gotten him lost, on purpose no doubt, and here he was. Miserable as always. This must be the reason. Ranma brought him nothing but misery. Remembering the climax to the Bakusai Tenketsu fight, Ryouga saw again the two of them falling off that cliff. He saw again that moment, that time he had... it was more than enough to drive his belt sword into Ranma's back... why did he hesitate? Why did he forgive those offenses? Why did reason after reason to kill that man get struck down?
Why did Ranma still haunt him?
Why did his presence still fill the lost boy with rage? For the last eight months, he had spent the better part of his time under the blinding, comforting mist of hatred - of vengeance - driving every action and reaction. Why, damn it?!
"I hate Ranma. I hate him... I hate him..." Ryouga tried to answer, tried to understand. "Akane... he cost me Akane. Yet, I cost myself Akane. She treated me like a pet when I behaved like one. I treated her like an object, when she wasn't one. Akane wanted Ranma..."
"The curse. I hate the curse... that damn body... Ranma scarred me for life." Ryouga pondered that. "Yet, Ranma also has a curse. Not as bad as mine, but it was certainly something. And the way he flaunts it, uses it..."
Eyes widening, Ryouga paused in his steps. Directly under a streetlight, his shadow lay only beneath his feet. Slowly, horribly, it came to him. "I hate Ranma... because... because..."
Why?
"Because he's like me." Ryouga's face became a scowl. "A better me..."
He denied it at first. He was nothing like Ranma! Nothing... Holding his head, Ryouga wrestled with the very notion and tried to disprove it. The curse! He and Ranma both had them, but his was worse. He could only use his to demean himself. Ranma used his to get what he wanted, be it free food, a refreshing swim, or an excuse to fight back against women like Kodachi and Shampoo. There was no redeeming quality to turning into a piglet... not anymore...
Even in Martial arts! Despite his recent victory, Ryouga knew Ranma was more than a rival... When he had seen him, in junior high school, Ryouga had known that he was a threat. Back then, the only good thing about school was the role Ryouga had made for himself. He was the strongest, the toughest, and in many ways the meanest... no one made fun of him when he was around, and when weaker kids were being bullied, he stepped in and helped them. In that way, he had some small role to play that he could be proud of, and some tiny sliver of pride in himself.
But Ranma... was better... Ranma took his role, just like he took his bread, and cast him aside. Even without intending it. Ranma, too, interceded to help others, and the fights between the two boys over the bread only proved what Ryouga had known, even back then: that Ranma was better than him. Ranma didn't get lost. He was more reliable. People *liked* him! And without his role, Ryouga was nothing but trash; his pride and respect little more than hollowed out wrappers on the cafeteria floor.
Ranma: who spent his life wandering around. Of everyone, Ranma could understand what it was like to be rootless, but he had his father. Ryouga had no one. Always, always, Ranma could rely on his father to be there for him. Even if Genma abused his role as father, as he had heard horror stories about, Ryouga still felt the bloody pang of jealousy, because he knew that for every bad moment, there had to be hundreds of happy ones. Moments of joy, training, learning, playing, that Ryouga would never know.
Ranma was his better. So long as Ranma lived, there could be no place for Ryouga in the world. Holding the lamppost next to him, Ryouga remembered the fight he'd just been involved in. Ranma... Ranma would have been gentler with those scumbags. Ranma would have just knocked them out, like Ryouga knew he could have, but chose not to. Ranma... was the better man. He had everything Ryouga ever wanted, and he was everything Ryouga was, but more!
That was why...!
That was why he had to die.
"It is impossible to undo what was done, to un-become what we are. A man like me cannot change." Ryouga growled, and clenched his fist. The lamppost creaked and deformed in his hand, before he let go. "This is what I am. This is who I am. And it must be something... I will not become nothing...."
Defeat Ranma. Become the best.
That was the only possible course of action.
Ryouga clenched his fist tightly, and felt the power flow through his body. It felt overwhelming... intoxicating... Closing his eyes, he enjoyed it, far more than he would ever admit. It was beyond impossible to go back now, just as it was impossible to live with himself if he did nothing. He would defeat Ranma. He would ... kill him... and then he would be somebody. Because if Ranma lived and lost, then he would only challenge him again and again, and sooner or later, the pigtailed boy would win. And no one, ever, would know happiness or permanence. No!
One of them had to die.
"Ranma..." Ryouga slowly smiled. "You will either kill me, and become worse than me... or you will die. Either way, Hibiki Ryouga wins!"
And he laughed, long and loud.
***
Ranma
I told him to get lost.
Well, to be more exact, I made him get lost. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The bastard had it coming, really, after that stunt he pulled for New Year's. I couldn't let it go unanswered, so I lured him out of his house, pissed him off, and ran like hell. He was actually catching up on me, even though I had a good head start on him, when I ducked into a shopping center. Next thing I know, he's gone.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Get the directionally challenged idiot lost for almost two weeks and make sure the duel didn't take place before my training with Cologne was finished, or near-finished. I didn't expect anything more would come from it - then, when Nabiki heard about it, she slapped me. I honestly couldn't believe it. True, it wasn't like Kasumi did it, but Nabiki... who expected it from her? The stupid pig-boy must've grown on her or something. I actually thought she'd be happy, because it'd force me to keep paying her according to our 'deal' from before.
Even Akane didn't understand! Damn that kawaiikune tomboy! I swear, every time I think she starts to understand how I feel, or who and what I am, she proves me wrong! Its not like I'm going out with Shampoo because I want to. It's a means to an end, and a way to pacify the old ghoul so I can keep training. Hell, I even tried explaining it, but she refused to listen. This whole fiancée thing is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of.
Akane
Baka!
That baka! I can't believe he'd go steady with Shampoo, just to train with her great grandmother! How could he just turn his back on me... my school like that? He sleeps under our roof, eats our food, barely even goes to school anymore, and acts like he'd king of the place. Every day, he comes back tired and beaten, barely says a word to anyone, eats something, and goes to sleep. He barely even looks at me anymore!
It's not like I like him or anything.
No. I never liked him. Of course not. But he was nice to have around, once in a blue moon, and sometimes he was handy for beating up Kuno or whatever. I never liked him, understand, but he was fun to be around sometimes. But... I miss him in school. I miss him at home. Can't he see that I'm worried about him? He must know. All he's doing is feeding Ryouga's anger. He's going to try and kill you Ranma! He needs a friend! He needs a family! Not an enemy! Ranma... talk to me... walk with me...
Not that I like him that way!
Just... the Principal's back from Hawaii, and I don't want to think what it'd be like if not for Ukyou and even Kuno. They're basically the only two people who can keep him in check, seeing as how often Ranma skips school or simply sleeps through the classes. Sometimes Mousse stops by, too, usually on his way to delivering something or whatever, and helps. He and Ukyou seem to get along well, and its always fun to see them double team the Principal whenever he tries anything outrageous.
Ukyou
I don't know how many of that jackass' barber tools I've taken away from him. It's just our dumb luck that the idiot is a Kuno, and as rich as Siberia is wide, so he seems to have an unlimited supply of them. Beating the moron up is good therapy, especially since his own family seems to hate him as much as anyone, and everyone, else. Mousse and I have been plotting to get revenge on Saotome again, and we've been training hard to get better, but I've seen, and gotten involved in, some of Cologne's training.
Every day, Ranma gets just that much better than me.
Faster. Stronger. More skilled. At this rate, it's going to be impossible to get my revenge. He may have beaten me half to death the last time we fought, if not for... Damn him. It doesn't matter. I can see Ryouga now. He's been lost for almost a month, but I see him. I suppose Nabiki'll be happy, though the thought isn't a pleasant one. As I bump into him, I'm tempted to question him about it, but a hard look in his eyes is all the discouragement I need. He's here for business.
He's here for revenge. I recognize the look in his eyes. It's the same one that I see every morning in the mirror, except with a terrible intensity that sends a chill down my spine. What are you planning, Ryouga? Is it that you're out to get revenge for everyone, or is your own hate so deep, so powerful... I don't want to see that hate in your eyes, Ryouga. They're too beautiful to be clouded by it. I want revenge just like you do, but... but where is it all leading? Will it really make us happy? I used to think so, but now I know what its like to be happy, and those times aren't when I'm fighting Ranma...
Nabiki
Things have gotten complicated.
I've lost control of the situation, and even myself. I need someone to talk to, and settle for Kasumi, but she doesn't really follow what I'm hesitant to outright say, to her, or to anyone. I still can't believe Ranma goaded him into getting lost! I can't believe I didn't see it coming! I can't believe Ryouga would fall for such an obvious trick! I can't believe I was actually starting to like that directionally challenged idiot!
How am I supposed to know what's going on, now?
How am I supposed to be in control?
How am I supposed to prevent what I know is going to happen between those two fools? I can't even control myself, anymore. After I found out, when I ran into that damn brother-in-law of mine, it was like I wasn't even there. It was like another Tendo Nabiki had taken over. I hit him, and hurt my hand for my trouble. There was only one way to hurt him - I scheduled the match for as soon as Ryouga shows up. He bitched about it, of course, so I told him to tell someone who cared. Look at me. I'm getting emotional over some guy. It's worse than that crush I had on Kuno-chan freshman year!
I must have a weakness for morons.
Our whole family probably has the same problem. It's genetic.
The days fly by, but nothing memorable happens. Nothing that makes me care about what goes on around me. Old Principal Kuno is back, but Ukyou and Kuno and Mousse usually take care of him, and he generally leaves the upperclassmen alone, anyway. I've hyped up the match, sent our fliers, and gotten the preliminary reports on who would be betting on whom. It's going to be in the soccer field, where they had their first fight, and the bets were slightly in favor of Ranma. I spread some information about his training with Cologne, and put rumors into circulation where they need to be. The vote swings more in Ranma's favor.
I get some control back, but it isn't enough. In the end, all I've done is help myself. I'm sorry. All I can do now is pray. Pray that neither of them kills the other. Pray that this mess ends today. This dirty money... I never thought... didn't anticipate... I don't want it soaked by blood. There's no profit in revenge. Only loss.
Mousse
Damn it.
Where is he?
I'm not blind. Not really. I've watched Saotome and Shampoo closely the last few weeks. They go out every Saturday and Tuesday, sometimes to see a movie, sometimes they just walk. It doesn't matter. I'm not blind. I can see that there's nothing between them - no spark, no love, no hope if not for that thrice damned Amazon Law. I attacked him the first few times, without even thinking. All it took was seeing Shampoo hold him closely, and look at him like I've always dreamt of her looking at me, and what little control I had over myself crashed to pieces at my feet.
He beat me effortlessly.
I've been training - some of the hardest, more intense training of my life, with Ukyou, and he's still just that much better than me. I cursed him, at first. Then it became obvious that Shampoo was wasting her time... Ranma didn't respond to her, and the distinct hurry behind his movements and words belied his intentions. He wanted each experience over with as quickly as possible so he could get back to more important things.
Cologne had really screwed the pooch this time.
Instead of him growing closer to Shampoo, he was starting to see her as more of an obstacle between him and his training than anything. And, just like that, the anger began to dissipate. I watched them, from afar, and saw how Shampoo gradually began to give up. They walked in silence more often than not, but it was a nervous silence, an unfamiliar silence: the silence that exists between strangers, because that's what they were, and always would be. My heart had soared at the thought, and the prospect, of Shampoo being mine. Then, as always, everything had come crashing down.
Shampoo
Stupid Mousse!
He doesn't think, that one. I don't need my failings pointed out, not by anyone, and especially not by him! And especially not now! Does he think I don't know that Ranma doesn't care about me? Does he think I like trying to seduce him, this foolish foreigner male, when it should be the other way around? I am Joketsuzoku, and I am proud! I don't need Ranma, and I certainly don't need Mu Tzu.
Good riddance to him.
Good riddance to both of them.
I see Ukyou, and wave. She's nice enough, though she seems to be spending more time with Mousse than with me. She waves back, and I see just whom she's with. A smile comes unbidden, and I quickly finish sweeping the front of the store. They don't wait, but it's all right. I know where she's taking him. Mousse comes first, then my great grandmother, and we head for Furinkan High. This charade between Ranma and myself has gone on long enough - it ends here and now. When Ryouga beats him, it'll be all the reason I need to annul the marriage. It'll be my way of making amends with him. Maybe, after this, we can be friends. I'd like to have more friends...
Ryouga
I walk past the gate, and into the school grounds.
There are students everywhere. I see Kuno, watching things closely, next to Nabiki, in the section of students containing the juniors and seniors. Good. She should be safe near him. My eyes meet hers, and a strange feeling washes over me. She looks almost happy, and yet, somehow disappointed. I know why. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want the fight to come, and the cycle to continue.
She understands.
She understands me.
She just doesn't like that things have to be the way they are. She thinks that I want to lose, that deep down, I need to lose. That I subconsciously don't think I'm worthy of winning, or of wielding the power that I do. I denied it at first, but over the last month, I've realized she's at least half right. The cycle continues, feeding on itself, because I don't know any other way. I beat Ranma - he must beat me. He beats me, and I must train and wander, until I can defeat him. I have nothing else.
I had nothing else.
It is only half of the truth. I do what I do, because it must be done. Histories are written about the soldiers who won their battles; but songs are sung about the soldiers who fell in battle struggling for a greater cause. What inspires us is the unfinished work, the dream of picking up the fallen standard and taking it ten more feet up the hill, knowing that even if you fall, the next man in line will take it another ten feet, until finally the hill is taken. My greater cause, my triumph and my failing, is to fight. And what is a fight, without an enemy? What is life, without a goal?
Emptiness.
I look away from her, and to the rest of the crowd. I see Nabiki's hirelings moving around, collecting bets, talking, and doing their business. They remind me of vultures, but even vultures are a necessary part of the world. I see Akane. She looks sad. At what, I do not know, and cannot guess. Ukyou steps up to me, as I walk onto the soccer field. Her hands touch my shoulders, and I let her slip the backpack off me.
"Good luck, sugar," I hear her, and then she's gone, disappeared into the crowd. The wind starts to pick up, and I see Mousse, Shampoo, and Cologne on the school wall. Shampoo is sitting on the edge, watching intently. Mousse has his arms crossed, his long hair swaying in the wind, and a gleam in his thick lenses. Cologne seems only mildly interested, but I can see the very slight tension in her posture.
It's cloudy, but rain shouldn't be a major factor.
Ranma steps forward, his stride purposeful and slow. I measure his movements. I know who he's been training with, and how long. With practiced ease, I draw my umbrella, and plant it into the ground. My senses are now a razor's edge, and as I stretch out my muscles, I see Ranma do the same. The barest hint of his Ki reaches me, and I am surprised.
He is cold.
But there is a power behind the cold, like the chill wind from the north. The crowd grows silent, as Ranma closes his eyes, takes a stance, and opens them. I do the same, and feel the power burn for release. The crowd backs away, almost as one. My hands are fists, now.
It Begins.
And it Ends.
Now.
