= = = =
T E N
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
By R. E.
(ranma_e@hotmail.com)
Illustrations by Irka
(irka@ciudad.com.ar)
= = = =
CHAPTER THREE
"Slings and arrows"
= = = = = = = =
Shampoo panted as she rushed along the burning sand of the beach, the heat
searing her feet all but forgotten as she sprinted towards the ocean. Her
search had gone on for two hours, but any thoughts of tiredness were
banished from her mind.
In the distance, a small, burned body lay face-down in the sand. Waves
lapped rhythmically over it, gently rocking the lifeless body back and
forth.
Shampoo was abruptly brought to a halt by the sickening stench of scorched
flesh that assaulted her nostrils. Skidding to a stop, she had to fight
the retching that suddenly gripped her stomach.
"Horrible," she moaned. Holding her stomach firmly, she took a shaky
step forward.
Steam rose lazily from the body which lay naked, its clothes long since
burned off. A faint hissing sound filled the air with every fresh wave
of water that splashed across the body.
Blackened flesh and singed hair greeted Shampoo's eyes as she peered more
closely, holding her nose closed between thumb and forefinger.
A large gash ran across the body's back, the wound cauterised by the
immense heat. Deep black scorch marks obscured most of the features of
the corpse, but as Shampoo circled around to its other side, she caught
sight of a sliver of pure white.
"The sword," she gasped. She had assumed it would have been swept away
by the ocean. Ranma's blackened hand was closed tightly around the sword's
handle in a solid grip.
Shampoo looked back at the sizable wound on Ranma's back and wondered how
the girl had managed to grip the sword that skewered her after the fall.
She reached down and took ahold of the sword's handle, and tugged it
gently.
Ranma's grip was strong; all Shampoo managed to do was tug the girl's
body slightly along the sand. Frowning, Shampoo tugged harder, but still
found she could not free the sword from the corpse's grip.
"I'm sorry," Shampoo whispered quietly as she reached for her sword. It
did not feel good to desecrate the dead, but she had no choice. Bringing
her sword to Ranma's arm, she pressed the edge against the girl's wrist,
then slowly raised the blade, ready to slice.
"Nnng ...." Ranma moaned into the sand, her hand loosing the sword for a
moment then gripping it more tightly than before.
"What the hell?" Shampoo exclaimed, jumping back in utter shock. She
landed on her backside a short distance away and stared at Ranma. "She's
... alive?"
Ranma moaned again, a pained, pitiful sound; barely audible through the
soaked sand. Her body shifted slightly, and she choked, trying to
breathe.
Sheathing her sword, Shampoo leaned forward and gingerly placed a hand on
Ranma's shoulder, using it to turn the burned girl over onto her back.
Ranma's chest rose and fell shakily with laboured breath. Her frail body
shivered in the sea breeze, her teeth chattering loudly.
"This can't be," Shampoo murmured, eyes wide in fright. "It's impossible."
The impossible proof, however, lay before her; with every twitch of her
body, Ranma terrified Shampoo further.
Shampoo's mind boggled as she tried to decide what course of action to
take. Her train of thought was interrupted, however, as she noticed a
small red symbol on Ranma's stomach, just above the sword wound. She
did not recognise it; she did not need to recognise it to feel unsettled
by it.
Wisps of steam rose slowly from it and as Shampoo lowered her hand toward
it she could feel an intense heat that threatened to burn her. She
swallowed nervously and decided to take the girl to one who would know
what had happened.
Slipping one arm under Ranma's neck, the other under her knees, Shampoo
lifted the limp body off the ground and started back toward her village,
Ranma's sword dragging along in the sand behind her with every hurried
step.
"This can't be good ...." Shampoo uttered, looking down at the smouldering
body in her arms.
* * *
"After I fell, the first thing I remember is waking up in the Amazon
village again."
"Let me get this straight. You were shot with an arrow, fell off a cliff,
and survived," Akane said, flatly. "That's the craziest story I've ever
heard."
Ranma smiled at her companion. "Well, you're still young yet. You'll hear
stranger ones, I'm sure."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Akane asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You honestly expect me to believe that?"
A light rustling sound came from the bushes behind Akane; before the Tendo
girl could even blink, Ranma was standing, sword drawn, peering intently at
the bushes.
"Get down," she said, stepping past Akane. "Stay behind me."
Akane nodded dumbly, lowering herself closer to the ground as she turned to
watch Ranma. Her mind was far too busy wondering how Ranma had moved so
quickly to spend time debating whether or not to follow Ranma's order.
Ranma crouched slightly, staring deeply into the bushes, eyes scanning back
and forth amongst the foliage. As she caught sight of something moving,
she slowly and silently slid her sword back into place beneath her cloak.
Her hand moved slightly toward the bush and then - suddenly, in a flurry of
red hair and black fabric - darted into and out of the bushes.
Akane jumped slightly at the sudden movement, and stared at Ranma as the
redheaded girl turned to face her -- holding up a small, furry object. The
object wriggled violently in Ranma's hand, trying desperately to break
free.
Akane peered at the furry ball, recognising it as a tanuki. The small
raccoon dog shivered uncontrollably in Ranma's icy grip as the chill air
around her leeched away its body warmth.
"Oh! How cute!" Akane exclaimed. Jumping to her feet, she stepped over to
pet the animal.
The tanuki wriggled against Ranma's hand, trying to escape her chill touch.
It rubbed itself up against Akane's far warmer hand as she touched it, much
to Akane's delight. Akane petted the creature happily, cooing gently to
it as it pressed its head up against her fingers.
Ranma sighed, exasperated, as Akane fawned over the animal.
"We must leave," she said firmly. "Now."
"Why?" Akane asked, looking up from the animal for a moment before
returning her attention to it. She ruffled the thick, black fur atop its
head, a little too enthusiastically for the creature's liking. "What an
adorable little thing you are!"
"Because," Ranma said, pulling the tanuki away from Akane's affectionate
hands and lowering it to the ground, "there are more dangerous things in
this forest than tanuki."
The tanuki realised this as well, darting into the bushes and scampering
away from the humans as fast as it could.
Akane watched the bushes sadly as the sound of the tanuki's retreat faded
into silence. Sighing, she looked over at Ranma, who was peering up
between the branches and leaves overhead, at the grey sky above.
"We've spent too long here as it is," Ranma said. "The sun will be coming
up soon. We should press on. If we leave now, we'll be there by tonight."
"Tonight?" Akane asked, her mood suddenly improving. "Then you can start
teaching me about these hunters?"
"There are a few other things to be done first," Ranma replied, looking
over her shoulder at Akane as she stepped toward the edge of the clearing.
"Like what?" Akane asked, stepping after Ranma. "You said you'd teach me!"
"Perhaps we'll start the lessons now," Ranma replied, arching an eyebrow.
"Patience is the first thing you should learn."
"But-"
"The details will come in time. Don't worry - you won't be bored in the
meantime."
"What do you mean?" Akane asked, pushing aside a branch as she stepped into
the forest behind Ranma.
"You'll see," Ranma replied as she stepped around a tree. "Be patient,
Akane. You'll have your chance to avenge your mother."
"That's all I want," Akane replied, a determined edge to her voice. The
rumble that her stomach emitted was no less determined. "Although some
food would be nice."
"I could catch another tanuki, if you're hungry," Ranma offered.
"That's not funny," Akane replied, paling slightly.
Ranma smiled over her shoulder at Akane as she led her young charge into
the depths of the forest.
Neither noticed the pair of eyes watching them intently from the treetops.
* * *
They're waiting for you. It's time to wake up.
Ranma groaned hoarsely, her throat too dry to form words. Slowly,
straining as if she were lifting mountains, she managed to force her
eyelids open. A hazy brown light filled her eyes, stinging them; she
quickly closed them again and waited a moment before daring to try again.
As she blinked, the haze seemed to coalesce into more solid lines and
shapes. A searing pain scratched across her face, behind her eyes, and
she instinctively tried to raise her hand toward the pain. However, all
she could manage was to raise it slightly before it started to shake
uncontrollably. Groaning again, she lowered it once more.
A fuzzy shape slid into her view, obscuring the light. A distant voice
echoed into Ranma's ears from the shadows above.
"Don't try to move."
Grunting in concentration, trying to block out the loud ringing in her
ears, she willed her eyes to move. Squinting, Ranma watched as the
fuzziness slowly resolved into a face -- the face of an old woman.
"You," she managed to squeak through her damaged throat, panic seizing her
heart.
"Stop fidgeting!" Cologne instructed, glaring down at the redheaded girl.
"It will be a while before you can even move, so you might as well rest for
now."
Ranma tried to turn her head as Cologne stepped away from the bed and
disappeared from sight, but found the old woman was right; she could not
muster the strength.
Her immediate panic faded somewhat as she realised Cologne did not intend
to kill her; instead her mind began asking just why that was so.
"How curious," came Cologne's voice. "You should be dead."
The shuffling of feet filled Ranma's ears, and Cologne's face moved into
view once again. The old woman bore a weary expression, dim eyes watching
Ranma from within sunken eye sockets. She let out a long sigh, and shook
her head.
Ranma tried to follow Cologne with her eyes as the old woman turned and
walked away from the bed. Sunlight flooded into the hut as Cologne pulled
aside the cloth covering that hung across the doorway; Ranma squinted as
the bright light burned into them, leaving Cologne as a vague silhouette
against the doorway.
"I know what you're thinking," Cologne added. "We're not going to kill
you. You might as well just relax and try to get some sleep. I'll be back
for you later."
* * *
A songbird fluttered effortlessly across the treetops, choosing a sturdy
branch upon which to land. Letting out a tuneful call, it looked back and
forth through the forest, anxiously checking for any females who might have
heard its song.
Two females did indeed hear its call; but as they were of entirely the
wrong species, the bird merely fluttered its wings in mild irritation and
swept itself off the branch, soaring once more above the tree line.
Akane heartily munched on one of the many apples she carried as she watched
the small bird flutter off into the distance. Ranma kept pace alongside
her, silently mulling over old memories that had lost no clarity or
intensity through the years.
Finishing one apple, Akane tossed aside the core and ravenously attacked a
second, biting into the skin with gusto. The loud sounds of apples being
demolished eventually grew to be too much for Ranma.
"Sorry," Akane said sheepishly, pausing as Ranma peered at her. "I'm just
so hungry."
"It's all right," Ranma replied, something of a smile coming to her face,
almost as an afterthought. "I don't mind. I'm glad you like the apples."
"They're delicious!" Akane enthused. "Are you sure you don't want one?"
"No," Ranma replied, shaking her head. "I'm not hungry."
"No sleep, no food," Akane observed. "Aren't you tired?"
"Not really," Ranma replied with a barely noticeable shrug.
"Travelling around a lot must make you pretty tough," Akane commented.
"And you've been travelling around for ... what?"
Akane looked over at her travelling companion, who seemed to have sunk
back into herself, eyes staring blankly off into the far distance. Akane
watched Ranma for a moment, wondering how the girl held herself so still;
somehow Ranma seemed to glide across the ground without moving her feet,
her cloak making no sound as it was drawn across the grass.
If it weren't for the occasional puff of misty breath that rose from
Ranma's mouth, Akane decided the cloaked girl could very well be mistaken
for a statue.
Sighing, Akane abandoned hope of getting an answer, and returned her
attention to her apple.
The pair cleared a small, grassy rise, and as Akane peered beyond the
slight elevation, she was stunned by the lush green valley that extended
off into the distance, between two imposing mountains.
"Oh, it's amazing," she breathed, taking in the sight of the deep, moist
forest that blanketed the valley floor, the lush green vegetation a sharp
contrast to the jagged mountains that framed it.
Coming to a stop near a tree trunk, Akane leaned up against it and took
a moment to appreciate the majestic beauty of the landscape before her, her
eyes lost amongst the wonder of it all.
Ranma stopped a few paces down the hill toward the valley, and turned to
look back at the Tendo girl.
"Are you tired?" she asked, looking around for a place to rest.
"No, I just..." Akane began, looking down at Ranma for a moment, "I just
haven't seen anything like this before. I mean, I've seen photos, but
never...."
"It is a beautiful place," Ranma agreed at length, looking back to the
valley herself.
Akane nodded silently, watching a small flock of birds gracefully drifting
across the valley below.
"Come," Ranma said, gesturing toward the valley. "We should go. The
forest may be beautiful, but that makes it no less dangerous to be
wandering through at night."
With another nod, Akane stepped away from the tree and started down the
hill, a little behind Ranma. Something in Ranma's tone told her to believe
that warning.
* * *
Light.
"He's stronger than I thought."
"So he's alive?"
"Barely - he should be dead. He must have a strong will to have survived
that fall."
"And now he's ...."
"Never mind that, child. If he is strong, he'll adapt."
"This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Great-Grandmother."
"You did what you had to. You will be punished for your failure, and
through it you will become a stronger warrior."
"I ... understand. How will I be punished?"
"You will take care of him. You'll be his guide, and show him the Amazons
mean him no harm."
"But--"
"Shampoo, you must understand. We must show him we mean him no harm. We
-must- ally ourselves with him. You must show him, Shampoo, that we are
not his enemies."
"How can I show him that? I'm the one who caused all of this ...."
"Consider that your punishment. You dishonoured yourself in battle; prove
your honour to that boy and you will redeem yourself."
Ranma groaned, sweat rolling from her forehead as the echoed voices of her
captors washed up on the shore of her consciousness, only to be swept away
again moments later by a wave of dizziness.
Feeling her grip upon reality wavering, Ranma was unable to stop herself
from tumbling back down into the thick blackness below her, the echoing
voices chasing her back into the dark, empty ocean.
* * *
Akane yawned, stretching her arms above her head as the daylight slowly
drained from the valley. The chirping of insects became louder with every
passing moment; she found herself swatting the small bugs away with
irritating frequency. The fact that Ranma remained completely unmolested
by the insect life did not improve her mood.
"Why don't these stupid bugs bother you?" she complained.
"They stay away from me," Ranma answered, without looking back. "They
don't like the cold."
"Neither do I," Akane replied, folding her arms in front of herself and
rubbing her upper arms for warmth. The humid forest air formed a thin,
chilled mist around Ranma, the wispy fog circling endlessly around her.
"Why's it always so cold around you?"
Ranma raised one arm, a small hand emerging from beneath the folds of her
cloak. Raising her index finger, she waggled it back and forth slightly.
"It's a secret."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," Akane sighed. "Everything's a secret
with you."
"All in good time, Akane," Ranma replied, arm vanishing beneath the pitch
black fabric of the cloak. "All in good time."
"Speaking of time," Akane said, wary of the fading light around them, "how
much longer will this trip take?"
"We're nearly there," Ranma replied, nodding her head slightly in a gesture
toward the forest before them. "Just a little further, at the base of that
mountain."
"Really?" Akane asked, a sudden excitement in her voice. To have an
actual, tangible destination to strive for was infinitely more comforting
than simply wandering for the sake of wandering, no matter how vague the
description.
Ranma nodded.
Akane smiled, happy for the first time in a few hours, and strode forward
with a newfound energy. The mossy ground, dank air, and abundant insects
seemed like minor problems to her now that she had a goal to shoot for,
even if it were only arriving at their destination.
She was brought to a halt suddenly as Ranma extended an arm outwards,
across Akane's chest, holding her back.
"What--"
"Shh!" Ranma hissed, before silently moving closer to Akane. "I can hear
something."
Akane blinked, looking around at the trees encircling them. She could
hear nothing other than the buzzing of insects that had filled her ears
for far too long, and the trickle of water from the many small streams
that ran down from the mountains.
Looking over at Ranma, Akane saw a tense expression on the redheaded girl's
face, head slowly turning as Ranma scanned the surrounding forest for the
source of the noise.
A silence descended upon them for just a moment, Akane becoming strongly
aware of the sound of her own heartbeat. Suddenly, she was surrounded by
impenetrable blackness, her screams silenced by the paralysing cold that
gripped her whole body.
* * *
Ranma pulled her cloak tightly around Akane and yanked her aside moments
before the source of her suspicion landed where the Tendo girl had been
standing. Backing off, Ranma snarled, releasing a shivering Akane from the
protection of her cloak.
Akane, gasping for air, slumped to the ground near Ranma's feet.
Ranma stepped away from Akane slightly, giving her companion a chance to
recover. Narrowing her eyes, she glared intently at the girl standing
before her with a sword already drawn.
The girl was clad in black, with several small daggers strapped across her
chest in a bandolier. A scabbard hung loosely from her belt, swaying back
and forth slightly. On the opposite side of the scabbard hung several
small pouches, each tied closed with a small, frayed piece of string.
Ranma snarled, having long ago recognised her assailant. Her suspicions
were only confirmed as the girl stepped out from the shadows, into a small
shaft of light cast down by the fading sun.
Hard eyes burned into Ranma from beneath dark brown hair, eyes that spared
only a momentary glance for Akane.
"I see you've found another apprentice," spoke the girl in an even tone.
"Touch her," Ranma warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl, "and
I'll tear out your heart, Ukyo."
* * *
I can feel you inside me ... what are you?
I am you, and you are me. We are one and the same.
That doesn't make any sense!
Just because you don't understand doesn't make it untrue.
Who ARE you? What's your name? Do you even have a name?
My name is Ranma Saotome.
It is not! Don't lie to me!
I'm not lying. That's the point, boy.
I don't understand ....
You will. Now wake up; you're making her worry about you.
Who?
* * *
The faint crackling of kindling burning on an open fire tugged at Ranma's
mind, lending her support to cling onto as she climbed desperately from the
bottomless pit of unconsciousness. She could feel the darkness reaching
up to take her again; panic drove her upwards ever faster.
The tighter she clung to the faint sound, the louder it got, and soon
other sounds joined it -- the distant howling of wind, the chirping of
insects. Gradually the darkness fell back, leaving Ranma on the threshold
of the light above.
Reaching high, she brushed her fingers against it for a moment; straining
higher, she took hold of it with her hand. As she tightened her grasp upon
it, the darkness fell away behind her, leaving her surrounded in light.
Light.
Her eyes opened slowly, a dull pounding in her head keeping her from
opening them fully. The view was familiar; the same roof, the same faint
orange light flickering against it.
Blinking a few times to try and clear her eyes, Ranma tried to sit up,
wondering how long she had been asleep for. It felt like she had slept
only a couple of hours; she was still exhausted. A sharp pain in her
stomach halted her rise and sent her plunging straight back down to the
bed. Groaning, she lifted one hand and brought it gingerly to the
source of the pain.
Her hand glided over her smooth stomach, her fingertips bumping up against
what felt like a scar; tilting her head, she tried to look down at herself.
It was at that moment that a realisation dawned upon her.
Breasts.
She had breasts.
Again.
She screamed, a piercing scream that sent agonising spikes of pain lancing
through her skull; the scream was cut short as she grabbed at her head,
gritting her teeth through the resonating pain that bounced back and forth
within her mind.
"Owwww ..." she croaked faintly, her throat hoarse.
Someone stirred alongside her; waiting for the pain to fade, Ranma
eventually tried turning her head to catch a glimpse of the person who was
with her. All she managed to make out was a fuzzy purple outline.
"You ..." she breathed, a powerful feeling of anger seeping into her heart,
washing away all other thoughts.
"You're awake," Shampoo observed, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she stood.
"Thank the gods; I thought you were going to die."
"You ..." Ranma repeated, staring hotly at the girl as she moved into view.
"I've been sitting here for a week," Shampoo explained, stepping closer,
"waiting for you to wake up. I've been ... worried about you."
"You ..." Ranma chanted, disbelieving her eyes as her father's killer
stepped up beside the bed.
"I--" Shampoo began, but was cut off as Ranma's hand, of its own accord,
flung itself at her throat, choking her into silence as it gripped her neck
with all Ranma's strength.
"You killed my father!" Ranma gasped through her singed throat, spittle
flying from her mouth as she shook with unbridled rage. "You killed my
father!"
"It was ... self defence!" Shampoo choked, her hands desperately gripping
Ranma's, trying to loose the vice-like grip that held her.
"You murdered him! He was my father!"
"I'm ... sorry!" Shampoo sobbed between heaving gasps for air, hot tears of
pain and regret streaming down her cheeks and over Ranma's hand. "I ...
had no choice ...."
Ranma cried out in fury, squeezing ever tighter around Shampoo's fragile
neck. She could feel Shampoo's pounding pulse beneath her sweat-soaked
skin, the desperate attempts to breathe through a windpipe that was rapidly
being crushed.
"Kill me now," Shampoo choked, letting her eyes close, "if that ... is
what you wish. My life is ... in your hands; take it ... if you will."
Shampoo lowered her hands from her neck, letting her body go limp as she
slowed her breathing.
Ranma felt the weight of the Amazon pressing down on her arms and stared
at the pale, tear-streaked face of her victim. The anger screamed from
within her, burning through her whole body; but within that unbearable
din she made out two voices.
I understand perfectly. This blade will destroy you and your entire
village.
I don't want to kill you. I'm here for the sword.
Eyes widening, Ranma released her grip upon Shampoo's throat; Shampoo
crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.
"I'm not gonna kill you," Ranma said, slowly lowering her arm once more.
Closing her eyes, she felt the violent waves of anger subsiding; as calm
stillness returned to her mind once more, she opened them again.
Shampoo coughed, holding her throat as she raised herself to her hands and
knees. She held herself there, making no attempt to stand.
"Why am I here?" Ranma asked, her voice quiet but steady.
"I ... found you on the beach," Shampoo answered, still sobbing. "You were
...."
"Burning..." Ranma whispered, staring blankly ahead. Images flashed
through her mind in a blur; seared flesh, scorching flames, endless torment
and suffering. Her body shook with the imagined impact of a wall of water,
bringing with it blissful freezing cold, sweet annihilation. Murky black
oblivion swept her downwards and from the depths something rose to greet
her--
As quickly as they came, the images vanished, leaving Ranma panting on the
bed. Shampoo knelt silently beside her now, watching with morbid
fascination.
"I found you lying there ... alive," Shampoo recalled, doubting her own
words. "I brought you here and you've been in bed for a week since."
"Why didn't you just take the sword and kill me?" Ranma asked, her gaze
fixed firmly on the roof, her tone challenging.
"I am not a thief," Shampoo said simply, looking down at the ground.
"But you -are- a murderer," Ranma replied in an even tone. It was not an
accusation; it was a statement of fact.
"Yes," Shampoo admitted in despair, eyes moist. "I am a murderer. I
killed your father.
"I'm sorry," Shampoo whispered, "I didn't want to kill anyone ...."
"Shampoo," came another voice, "leave us. I wish to speak with Ranma."
Shampoo nodded, fighting back tears, quickly standing and rushing past
Cologne.
Cologne stepped past her great-granddaughter as she dashed out of the hut.
Shaking her head sadly, Cologne hobbled over toward Ranma.
"She is not yet a warrior, that one," she commented to herself, leaning on
her staff as she neared Ranma's bed.
"Because she can't cope with killing innocent people?" Ranma asked
bitterly, matching eyes with the old woman.
"The decision to deal out death is not one to be taken lightly," Cologne
said, eyes not leaving Ranma's. "The ability to make that decision and
live with the consequences is the mark of a warrior."
"Warriors don't have to kill," Ranma shot back, "only murderers do."
Cologne sighed, and rested heavily on her staff.
"We didn't want to kill you, or your father. We just wanted to take the
sword from you," Cologne explained. "You didn't understand its power, and
you still don't. It's dangerous in your hands. If you had only listened to
reason and given us the sword--"
"Listened to reason?! You were the ones who murdered my father, don't talk
to me about listening to reason!"
"It was your father who struck first," Cologne pointed out. "We were
acting in self defence."
Ranma opened her mouth to yell her reply, but stopped short as she realised
she did not have one. What Cologne had said was true; it was her father
who attacked first.
"Your father killed three of my sisters," Cologne continued, "because he
didn't understand the power of that sword. If Shampoo had not stopped you,
you would have killed her."
"I ..." Ranma tried, but the words died in her throat. It was the truth;
she would have killed Shampoo without a second thought.
"We have both suffered losses; you have lost your father, I have lost my
sisters. There must be no more bloodshed."
"What now, then? You keep me prisoner here?" Ranma asked suspiciously.
She did not trust the old woman's offer in the slightest.
"We will keep you here, yes," Cologne replied, "while we nurse you back to
health. After that, you shall be free to go."
"Why didn't you just let me die?"
"Should we have?"
"Well, I ...."
"We brought you back," Cologne said, "because it was the right thing to
do. It was your father who wronged us; he paid the price. You were just
a bystander."
"Lucky me," Ranma sighed, feeling not at all lucky. She felt entirely
lost, utterly alone. For the first time in her life, she did not have
her father to guide her. However misdirected her father's guidance was, it
was better than ... this.
"I grieve for your loss," Cologne said softly, placing a hand on Ranma's
shoulder. "I am sorry your father died."
"I'm ... sorry, for what he did," Ranma replied quietly. "If I'd known
what he was going to do ...."
"Don't regret, Ranma," Cologne advised, squeezing Ranma's shoulder gently.
"Our actions define us as individuals. You did what you did because of who
you are. That is not something to regret."
"Then Pops is dead because of who I am," Ranma muttered.
"No; your father is dead because of who he was."
"And now he's lying in the forest. He's probably been eaten by an animal,
or something ...."
"Not quite," Cologne replied.
* * *
"Pops ...."
Ranma leaned heavily on Shampoo's shoulders, her limbs numb and lifeless;
the Amazon girl supported her as she looked down at the small grave. Tears
ran slowly down her cheeks, dripping onto Shampoo's arm.
"We buried him here," Cologne explained, gesturing toward the small mound
of earth, "beside the three he killed. He defeated Amazons in battle, that
is quite an achievement for an outsider."
"Achievement?" Ranma sobbed quietly.
"He bested our fighters in combat; few can say that. He shall be
remembered as ... a formidable challenge."
"I ..." Ranma tried, but words failed to come to her mouth. She forced
herself to turn - Shampoo got the hint, and turned Ranma's limp body
slightly to face Cologne.
Ranma looked down at the old woman, tears in her eyes, and managed a small
smile.
"Thank you, Cologne."
Cologne matched Ranma's eyes with her own, and nodded silently. Nothing
more needed to be said. She turned from the graves and started back toward
the village huts. Shampoo followed, carrying Ranma with her.
* * *
Ranma slurped at the vegetable stew with concealed enthusiasm; her appetite
had returned and she was very happy to have a meal in her belly again, but
she did not wish the Amazons to think she was letting down her guard. So
it was with a neutral face that she ate the stew, at a slow enough pace to
not appear as hungry as she actually was.
She had been bedridden for two weeks now, and her Amazon captors had been
nothing if not hospitable. Considering her father had felled three of the
villagers, she was amazed at their friendliness. They seemed to have
accepted her as one of their own in the short time she had been with them.
She had seen several villagers bringing in food and wood for the fire, but
the one who was always present was Shampoo, the very Amazon who had nearly
killed her. She was quiet, saying very little if anything at all; she
had the habit of never quite meeting Ranma's eyes with her own during the
sparse conversations they had. For the most part, Shampoo asked Ranma if
she would like some food, Ranma replied, and that was the end of it.
The lack of conversation and physical movement lead Ranma's mind to wander
far and wide. The return of her female form was a thought that occupied
her mind continually; a strong source of frustration for her.
Shampoo had explained that the hot water was in fact only a temporary cure,
resulting in an angry outburst from Ranma that left the Amazon in shaky
silence for two days.
She had tried once to upend a steaming bowl of stew over herself, but the
ever present Shampoo thwarted that plan. Without any other source of hot
water, Ranma found herself trapped in the female body she was beginning to
despise.
Repeated requests for hot water were made to both Shampoo and Cologne on
the occasions the matriarch visited, but all were denied. No reason was
ever given; the request was simply met with a unilateral 'no'.
She guessed it was something to do with the seeming absence of men from the
village.
When she was not quietly stewing over her female form, Ranma found her
thoughts returning to her father and the promise she had made to him before
he died.
Her father had always been something of a coward; all talk and no
substance. That was not to say he was unskilled as a martial artist - he
was indeed very talented - but the talent was mostly theoretical. Genma
did not seem inclined to fight for fighting's sake, and always avoided
confrontation where possible.
Ranma was mystified by the sudden change in her father. It was as though
he suddenly became a different person on that fateful day.
Although ....
As Ranma thought more about it, she came to realise that the change had not
been sudden at all. Genma had been far more irritable for the past few
months; comments that once bounced off him would irritate him greatly. He
became far more dedicated to the art, to the point of dragging Ranma to the
cursed springs of Jusenkyo for further training.
And then, there was the sword.
Genma did not carry much in the way of material possessions. He had a
strong thirst for money; but that was motivated more by a desire to put
food and wine in his belly than to purchase material possessions. Indeed,
other than the clothing on his back, Genma had never carried much.
Except the sword.
Genma was always strongly protective of the sword, explaining at length to
Ranma that it was a family heirloom and as such needed to be taken care of.
The sword was never used in actual combat; Ranma had assumed that Genma
simply did not want to damage the blade.
However, Genma began to use the sword during their training sessions,
introducing it as 'Garyoutensei', and explaining that Ranma would need to
become familiar with it.
Ranma had been unsure why it was so important to train with the sword;
Genma had until that point been adamant that relying upon a weapon was a
weakness that could be exploited.
However, grateful for any martial instruction, Ranma listened to Genma's
explanations of basic swordplay. She sparred against her father, using a
metal blade against Garyoutensei.
Her skills with the blade were very rudimentary, but she quickly got the
hang of the fundamentals.
She had never actually held Garyoutensei; her father insisted that she
would hold it when it belonged to her. The battle with Shampoo was the
first time Ranma had actually taken ahold of the sword's handle, but even
from that brief contact she had felt the heat inside--
"Fascinating weapon, is it not?"
Ranma looked up from the pale depths of her blade and caught sight of
Cologne standing near the doorway of the hut.
"It does not merely bring death; it brings utter destruction. It is a
weapon of immense power."
"I know," Ranma replied quietly, returning her gaze to the weapon.
"You felt that power, didn't you?" Cologne asked, stepping closer. "When
you touched it. Raw power, so deep and profound it almost feels like a
living being.
"Power that could tear down the heavens," continued Cologne, stepping
ever closer. "Power beyond your imagination; power beyond this world."
"I felt it," Ranma quietly admitted, eyes lost in the faintly pulsing
glow emanating from the sword.
"The legend says that where a normal sword cuts only flesh and bone, a
dragon's tooth cuts through the very essence of its victims, slicing the
spirit form as easily as the physical body. It cuts beyond the world we
live in, through the dual worlds of chaos and harmony, through the living
and the dead. It's a power you cannot begin to understand, let alone
control.
"I ..." Ranma murmured, Cologne's voice echoing in her mind.
"Give me the sword, Ranma," Cologne said. "I can seal it; keep it out of
human hands. It does not belong to this world."
Ranma stared deep into the milky blade, losing herself in the seemingly
infinite expanse of purest white light, with just the faintest tinge of
red--
The warmth of Cologne's hand on hers snapped Ranma out of her daydream; she
glanced up at the old woman, who was gently squeezing her sword hand.
"Give me the sword, Ranma Saotome," she intoned, looking intently at Ranma.
"Try to control it. Let it go."
"What?" Ranma asked, looking up at Cologne. "No, I'm not giving my sword
to you."
"Because you don't want to, or because you can't?"
"Of course I can!"
"Prove it."
"Fine!"
Ranma tried to loose her grip upon the sword but found herself unable to do
so. She became suddenly aware that her hand was straining, knuckles white
with the pressure she exerted upon the handle, gripping it as tightly as
possible.
"I ... can't," she whispered softly, willing her hand to relinquish its
grip. Her muscles strained, her arm shook as she tried to let go. A thin
sheen of sweat stained her forehead as she pushed herself, fighting to
release the weapon.
Cologne gently closed her hand around the handle, slowly but surely, taking
a firm grip near Ranma's trembling hand.
"That's it ..." she encouraged, placing her other hand on Ranma's shoulder,
pressing down gently on the small girl's frame. "Now ...."
Cologne gripped the handle and yanked, shoving downwards on Ranma's
shoulder at the same moment, tugging the sword with great difficulty
from Ranma's determined grasp. She staggered backwards with the blade,
which almost immediately lost its radiant white aura.
Ranma contorted on the bed, shaking violently as her hand tensed and
relaxed uncontrollably, trying to grip a sword that was not there.
Cologne, eyes wide, fearfully backed away; with every step she took, the
blade grew dimmer. Ranma's shaking increased, small grunts of pain
escaping her lips as she struggled to control her body.
"The sword," she choked, wrenching her head to face Cologne, "give it
back ... please ...."
Cologne looked down at the sword, now a dull grey, and back at the girl who
lay choking for breath before her.
"It can't be ...."
Ranma shook violently on the bed, her lips beginning to turn blue, her
panicked eyes locked on Cologne.
Cologne swallowed hard, staring at the obsidian blade; frowning deeply, she
looked over at Ranma once more. She had the sword now, but she could not
bring herself to take it from Ranma.
Shaking slightly, she swallowed and forced herself to step toward Ranma,
unable to ignore the helpless, agonised look in Ranma's eyes.
"Damn you," she whispered as she slowly lowered the sword into Ranma's
clutching hand. "You should have died when you had the chance."
Ranma's hand clumsily closed around the sword's handle; immediately the
sword flared back to life, the radiant white light erupting from the deep
black depths of the blade.
Ranma gasped for air, sucking in an enormous breath; the spasms subsided,
leaving her dazed, motionless but for the motions of her chest as her
breathing gradually returned to normal.
"What did you do to me!?" Ranma demanded, her tone dangerous, her face
reddening with each breath.
"I didn't do anything," Cologne replied, sadness in her eyes. "It was the
sword. I had hoped it wouldn't have ...."
"The sword?" Ranma asked, confusion displacing her anger.
"Yes," Cologne said with a nod. "This will complicate matters no end."
"Huh?" Ranma asked, eyes wide. "What do you mean, complicate? You nearly
killed me, again!"
Cologne frowned, mulling over her thoughts for a moment.
"How best to put it?" she wondered to herself with a sigh. She turned away
from Ranma and lowered herself gently to sit at the end of the bed. She
leaned forward against her stick, staring intently into the ground.
"If you stab someone," she continued at length, "they start to bleed, yes?"
"Yeah," Ranma nodded, "of course."
"If you pull the blade from their body, the bleeding is much worse than if
the blade is left inside the body. The blade itself contains the bleeding,
to a degree."
"I guess," Ranma agreed, confusion growing by the minute. "I dunno, I've
never really stabbed anyone ...."
"I think it is the same sort of situation here, child. The blade must have
pierced your very spirit."
"Huh?" Ranma asked, bewildered. "My spirit?"
"Yes," Cologne nodded. "Everyone has a spirit, it's what binds them to the
world. When you die, your spirit leaves your body and you leave this
world. Surely you must have some idea of what I'm saying?"
"I guess," Ranma tentatively agreed, "I never really learned much except
martial arts ...."
"When the sword is pulled away from your spirit, it 'bleeds', and you start
to die; to drift away from this world. When I returned the sword, it
sealed the hole, so to speak, so you stopped dying. Do you understand?"
"How do you know all of this?" Ranma asked, struggling to absorb the
information.
"When you've been around as long as I have, you learn things about the
world," Cologne replied.
"I don't know if I believe--"
"The proof is before you; I took the sword away, you began to die. I
returned it, you recovered. Believe or don't believe, it won't change what
happened, now, will it?"
"I suppose," Ranma reluctantly agreed. "What does this all mean?"
"For now," Cologne said, standing and stepping away from the bed. She
hobbled over toward the door, "You get to keep your sword."
* * *
Ranma sat quietly on a grassy verge with Cologne nearby. The sun bathed
the village in a gentle warmth that was maintained by a warm breeze that
gusted every few moments, sending ripples through the blades of grass.
It felt good to be in the sun, and Ranma was enjoying her first day out of
bed in a long time. She was deathly white, but not as thin as she had
been in the beginning; the stew she had been eating in increasing
quantities had made sure of that.
The warmth was a sharp contrast to the icy cold she had felt for the past
week; after her fever had broken, she spent most of her time shivering.
Now, with the gentle rays of the sun, she felt a soothing heat inside her
body that brought with it a sense of wellbeing.
She did not know why, but she did not feel as angry these days. Perhaps it
was the care with which the Amazon women looked after her, perhaps it was
her simply moving on after the tragedy of her father's death.
The more she thought about her father, the more she realised that the
Amazons had acted only in self defence. She did not forgive them. No, she
could never forgive them; but she could understand what they had done.
Shampoo practiced before them, moving through a slow series of motions with
her sword. Her sword arced lazily through the air with no real force
behind it; the purpose of her exercise seemed to Ranma to be balance and
control rather than purely attacking technique.
"She's sloppy," Ranma commented, watching Shampoo overbalance slightly on
a turn and nearly fall.
"She's distracted," Cologne replied.
"Distractions don't matter," Ranma retorted, shaking her head slightly,
"not when you're alone with the art."
"Mm," Cologne agreed. "You're right. She's young; she hasn't yet reached
her potential."
"She could do a lot better," Ranma said.
"You seem very well versed in the martial arts for someone so young,"
Cologne commented, looking quizzically over at the redheaded girl.
"I had a ... dedicated ... teacher," came the reply with a shrug of her
shoulders. "I studied the art all my life."
"A commendable pursuit," Cologne noted, "although a little narrow-minded."
"Maybe," Ranma conceded with another shrug. Narrowing her eyes a little,
she watched Shampoo more closely. "I don't get why she's so
distracted."
"Because of you, child."
"Me?" Ranma asked, looking across at the old woman.
"She's terrified of you. Can't you see it in her eyes?"
"I suppose she has reason to be," Ranma sighed. "I did try to kill her."
"It's not just that. She ...."
"She what?"
"She is not dealing very well with the consequences of her actions,"
Cologne explained. "She is letting the guilt destroy her. She was crying
for most of the first week you were here; she still cries herself to sleep
every night. She doesn't want anyone to know, but ... she's questioning
herself as a warrior. I think she wants to leave the tribe."
"Can she even do that?" Ranma asked.
"If she wants to," Cologne replied. "She would be disgraced and never
allowed to return to this place."
Ranma looked at the old woman, eyes wide.
"She would lose her family, her home, everything. That she is even
considering it shows how much this has harmed her. I shouldn't have pushed
her so hard ...."
"I ... I'd never thought of that," Ranma said quietly. "I'd been thinking
of Pops and me, I ...."
"Of course you were," Cologne said. "You lost your father, your teacher.
Shampoo ... Shampoo has lost herself.
"She thinks you're a demon," Cologne added, glancing over toward
Shampoo. "She thinks you've come from the spirit world to torment her
for murdering you. She's waiting for you to kill her."
"Maybe she's right," Ranma wondered, squeezing a fist tightly closed,
wondering at the clammy feel of her own skin. "I don't seem to be doing
anything but making her miserable. I'm still not sure why you're taking
care of me."
"Perhaps she is right," Cologne admitted. "We're taking care of you
because Shampoo wants to prove herself to you. She wants to redeem
herself in your eyes and earn your forgiveness. I don't think she really
wants to die."
"She killed my father. If she expects me to forgive her, she's an idiot."
Cologne watched Shampoo for a moment, sighing as the girl made another
mistake. Shaking her head slightly, she looked over at Ranma, who was
relaxing on the grass, eyes closed.
Cologne's eyes fixed upon Ranma's sword, which now lay safe within a
scabbard.
You really have no idea, Cologne thought. No idea at all.
Shampoo swung her sword in a quick overhead slash, bringing the tip of the
blade down to touch the dirt near her feet. She was not happy with her
performance; she decided to repeat the exercise. Raising her head, she
prepared herself for the challenge.
* * *
Ukyo looked up from the ground, the tip of her sword pressing gently into
the grassy earth beneath her.
"Don't insult me, monster," Ukyo spat, raising her blade to point at Ranma.
"I have no concern for your student. I come for you, and you alone."
"Are you all right?" Ranma asked Akane, peering sideways to catch a glimpse
of the Tendo girl struggling to breathe.
"Yeah," Akane coughed, "but ... don't ever do that again."
"I'm sorry, I had no choice," Ranma apologised, staring daggers at Ukyo.
"She would have killed you if I hadn't pulled you aside."
"I'll cut that lying tongue from your mouth," Ukyo fumed.
"Will you ever leave me alone?" Ranma asked, tiredly. "You can't defeat
me."
"I'll follow you to the ends of the earth!" Ukyo declared, "I'll never rest
until I've avenged my mother. I will have my revenge!"
"Ranma?" Akane asked, looking at her, then at Ukyo.
"Stay back, Akane," Ranma replied, eyes not leaving Ukyo's form. "This is
not your fight."
"But--"
"Don't argue!" Lowering herself into a ready stance, Ranma raised her
sword across herself in a defensive posture. "Come and get me, Ukyo."
Ukyo nodded almost imperceptibly and, as Akane shuffled backwards against
the trunk of a tree, charged toward Ranma.
Ranma stood motionless as Ukyo hurtled toward her, sword flying through the
air; at the last moment, she flicked her wrist, raising Garyoutensei to
deflect the blow.
Ukyo's metal sword glanced off the hot white blade, sliding along its
length, sending Ukyo stumbling off to one side.
Ranma twirled silently, following Ukyo's motion with her body, and shoved
the other girl with an elbow to her back, sending Ukyo barreling toward
a tree.
Ukyo raised her arms and slammed into the tree, letting her forearms soften
the impact. Growling, she pushed herself off the tree and whirled to face
Ranma once again.
"Lesson one," Ranma called in Akane's direction. "Don't overextend
yourself; you'll lose your balance and end up head butting a tree."
"Uh," Akane muttered, taken by surprise, "o-okay ...."
"Don't mock me!" Ukyo raged, leaping toward Ranma. "How dare you!"
"Lesson two," Ranma repeated, deflecting Ukyo's wild attack once more,
matching a furious flurry of blows with expertly timed parries and blocks.
"Don't let your emotions rule your body.
"If you do," Ranma continued, ducking below a high swing; she moved forward
beneath Ukyo's extended arms and punched her opponent in the stomach,
sending the girl staggering backwards. "You'll just make mistakes."
"You dare to turn our duel into a lesson?!" Ukyo wheezed, furious beyond
all reason. "DIE!"
Ranma planted a foot behind herself, bracing against the onslaught of
powerful slashes from Ukyo.
Blow met counterblow, attack met counterattack; Akane struggled to keep up
with the blurred shapes that were the two swords.
Clanging sounds filled the forest with each powerful collision of swords,
Ranma finding herself being pushed back by the sheer power of her
opponent's strikes. Ukyo's anger drove her onwards, her rage giving her
a strength and speed that Ranma had not expected.
An overhead chop was barely blocked, Garyoutensei holding Ukyo's sword at
bay just above Ranma's forehead. Ranma focussed her eyes on the blade, but
immediately realised this was a mistake. She felt Ukyo's movement, but by
then it was too late; her opponent's free hand sailed through the air and
smashed powerfully into Ranma's jaw in a brutal uppercut, sending Ranma's
head flying back.
"Ranma!" Akane called, jumping to her feet. She was too far away to help;
all she could do was watch as Ukyo brought her sword back quickly, swinging
it in almost a complete circle. The blade swung over Ukyo's head, behind
her back, and was brought up with intense force into Ranma's stomach.
Akane's eyes widened in silent horror as the tip of Ukyo's sword pierced
Ranma's cloak, silky ripples running through the material as the metal
drove deep into it.
Ranma cried out in surprise, Garyoutensei flying from her grip and
embedding itself halfway into the ground. Her head drooped forward,
surprise in her eyes as she looked at Ukyo's face, a face bearing the
ultimate satisfaction; the satisfaction of a lifetime dream being realised.
"Lesson three," Ukyo growled, eyes intently locked upon Ranma's. "Don't
piss Ukyo Kuonji off."
Ranma choked, blood spurting from her mouth as she slumped to her knees.
Ukyo watched her fall, taking a step back to watch the collapse.
Ranma toppled backwards, landing limply on the ground with a dull thud;
vacant eyes stared at the sky as a pool of blood began to form around her,
Ukyo's sword still protruding from her stomach.
"I've done it, Mother!" she cried, throwing her head back and calling to
the heavens above. "I've finally done it!"
Akane's scream brought Ukyo's attention back to Earth but not in time to
avoid the fist that slammed into her face.
Ukyo stumbled back, grabbing her nose as blood started to stream over her
mouth. Crying out in pain, she snarled angrily at Akane.
"You killed her!" Akane cried, apocalyptic anger radiating from her body.
"I'll make you pay!"
"My fight isn't with you," Ukyo replied, taking a step backwards. "I've
done what I came to do."
"Yeah, well," Akane countered, lowering herself into a fighting stance,
"your fight is with me now!"
"If you wish to share in your master's fate," Ukyo said, turning away from
Akane, "I suggest you start training. I won't kill a defenseless person.
Unlike your master, I have principles."
"Why, you ..." Akane seethed, and threw a punch at the back of Ukyo's head.
Ukyo was long gone by the time Akane's fist was even halfway toward her,
leaping gracefully through the air. She landed softly in a tree branch
before launching herself over the treetops and out of sight.
"Damn you!" Akane cried, and rushed forward to give chase.
"Akane ... let her go ...."
Akane whirled around at the sound of Ranma's voice, abandoning the chase to
rush to Ranma's side. She threw herself to her knees by Ranma's head; knee
deep in Ranma's warm blood, but far too upset to care.
"Ranma," she said, taking Ranma's head into her lap, "I can't believe you
lost ...."
"Neither can I," Ranma said weakly. "How on Earth did she get so good so
fast?"
Akane reached over and gingerly touched Ukyo's sword, unsure of what to do.
"Why did you stop me? I was going to--"
"To what, kill her?"
Akane fell silent, and looked down at the ever-expanding pool of Ranma's
blood.
"Don't be so eager to deal out death," Ranma said quietly, coughing on her
own blood. "Once you kill someone, there's no way to take it back. If you
can't deal with that it will destroy you from the inside out."
"I wasn't--"
"Besides; I can usually beat Ukyo with my eyes shut," Ranma replied
contemplatively, looking up at the sky. "If I lost, you wouldn't have
stood a chance against her. I don't understand how she got so -fast-.
"She must have found some new training technique to improve her speed that
much, that quickly."
Akane tugged gently at the sword, far too concerned with the immense
quantities of blood that pooled beneath Ranma to respond to the insult. She
blinked in surprise as Ranma didn't react to the tugging, instead continuing
her monologue.
"I was sloppy, I should have been paying more attention to the fight. I'm
just used to Ukyo being pretty easy to beat ...."
"Ranma," Akane interrupted, growing increasingly worried, "you're
bleeding."
"I know," Ranma replied, glancing down at the blade protruding from her
cloak. She sighed. "What a pain."
"What a pain?" Akane repeated, taken aback. "That's all you have to say
about it?"
"Yeah," Ranma replied, coughing up a mouthful of blood. "But on the bright
side, at least it got Ukyo off my back. I should have thought of this
earlier."
Akane said nothing; she was utterly, utterly lost.
"Do me a favour," Ranma said, looking up at Akane's face. "Pull this damn
sword out of me. It hurts like hell."
"Uhh," Akane replied, numbly. "Oh ... kay."
Reaching over, Akane gripped the handle of Ukyo's sword with a pale,
trembling hand. She felt as if she were about to throw up. Tugging
gently, she heard the sickening sound of the metal sliding out from Ranma's
flesh.
"Lesson four," Ranma said quietly, as Akane slowly pulled the blade from
her midsection. "Don't be overconfident."
Akane pulled the blade upwards, watching the metal slide slowly from the
inky blackness of Ranma's cloak. She frowned slightly in surprise as she
noticed something odd - no blood on the blade.
She kept tugging, and slowly as the tip came into view, she saw that only
a small part of the sword had blood stains upon it. Staring at the sword
for a moment, she then glanced down at Ranma with a puzzled look on her
face.
"The sword didn't go in that deeply," Ranma answered her question before it
was asked. "It's not as bad as it looks."
"It looked pretty bad," Akane commented, looking back to the sword. Ukyo
had pushed nearly the whole length into Ranma, yet only a few centimetres
of its length were stained with blood.
"Maybe I should check it out," Akane suggested, eyeing the sword curiously.
Surely there should be more blood on the blade?
"I've got to find out how Ukyo moved so fast," Ranma noted, deep in
thought, ignoring Akane's suggestion.
"You're bleeding to death!" Akane exclaimed, her panic finally overwhelming
her confusion. Tossing Ukyo's sword aside, she gingerly brought her hands
toward Ranma's stomach. "We've got to do something!"
"I'll be fine," Ranma said dismissive. "I've taken worse. Don't worry
about me. You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"Well, not reall-- wait! How the hell can you say you're fine, you're
bleeding all over the place!"
"Don't exaggerate," Ranma scolded, pulling herself up to a sitting
position, and shuffling over a little to lean up against a tree trunk.
"Just give me a few minutes."
Akane slumped backwards, sitting in the bloodied dirt as she watched Ranma
lean back against the tree. Her eyes stared, unblinking, at the bizarre
scene unfolding before her.
Ranma breathed softly, blood-stained hands emerging from within the flowing
fabric of her robe and coming together over her stomach. She pressed them
gently down onto herself, closing her eyes and tilting her head back
slightly as she applied pressure.
Small ripples flowed outwards from her hands, running through the material
of her cloak as a quiet humming sound filled Akane's ears.
Ranma's mouth opened slightly, her breath coming more slowly through her
reddened lips as her body relaxed totally against the tree. She held that
position for several moments.
"What are you ... doing?" Akane asked quietly, but no answer came.
Ranma's head slumped, chin falling to her chest as her hands dropped away
from her stomach and fell into her lap. She started to tilt slightly;
Akane, noticing Ranma was about to fall, hastily scrambled over and grabbed
Ranma's shoulder.
An icy feeling stabbed her hand, driving up her arm to her shoulder; Akane
jolted back, reeling. She landed hard on her backside, instinctively
cradling her hand to her chest, staring wide-eyed at Ranma.
Ranma's eyes slowly began to open; where once there was two irises and
pupils, Akane saw only pitch black. Gasping, she pushed herself further
away.
"What ... are you?" she asked, watching as the darkness slowly faded,
leaving Ranma's eyes as they once were.
"A ... martial artist," Ranma replied with some effort, focussing her eyes
on Akane. "Just like you."
* * *
Ranma stepped gingerly, wincing slightly with each step she took. Akane
followed numbly behind her, her mind trying to digest all that had
happened.
Two days ago she had been an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life; but
now ....
This is far from normal, she thought to herself, looking down at the
bloodstains covering her gi. Never in her life had she seen so much blood;
and yet Ranma simply shrugged it off as if it were nothing.
What kind of person does that?
Akane stared at Ranma, noting the slight wince with each step the redheaded
girl took.
She does feel pain then, Akane reasoned. What has she been through that
she can just shrug off being stabbed in the stomach?
Tossing ideas back and forth in her mind, Akane found herself short of any
reasonable answers. She recalled the unnerving sight of Ranma's eyes; the
memory threatened to send her train of thought spiraling out of control.
* * *
The air around Ukyo's sword returned quickly to normal as Ranma and Akane
left; without Ranma's chilling presence there was nothing to keep the
temperature low.
Nobody was around to hear the bubbling sound that filled the air; nor would
anyone hear as the bubbling sound became an intense sizzling.
Ukyo's sword sank slightly into the muddy ground as Ranma's blood began to
steam and bubble around it, a sickly odour of death rising into the air as
the crimson liquid began to boil.
Within a few moments the blood was gone, evaporated into a thin red mist
that was lost on the breeze; leaving Ukyo's sword buried in a steaming
patch of dried-out dirt.
= = = =
T E N
= = = =
T E N
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
By R. E.
(ranma_e@hotmail.com)
Illustrations by Irka
(irka@ciudad.com.ar)
= = = =
CHAPTER THREE
"Slings and arrows"
= = = = = = = =
Shampoo panted as she rushed along the burning sand of the beach, the heat
searing her feet all but forgotten as she sprinted towards the ocean. Her
search had gone on for two hours, but any thoughts of tiredness were
banished from her mind.
In the distance, a small, burned body lay face-down in the sand. Waves
lapped rhythmically over it, gently rocking the lifeless body back and
forth.
Shampoo was abruptly brought to a halt by the sickening stench of scorched
flesh that assaulted her nostrils. Skidding to a stop, she had to fight
the retching that suddenly gripped her stomach.
"Horrible," she moaned. Holding her stomach firmly, she took a shaky
step forward.
Steam rose lazily from the body which lay naked, its clothes long since
burned off. A faint hissing sound filled the air with every fresh wave
of water that splashed across the body.
Blackened flesh and singed hair greeted Shampoo's eyes as she peered more
closely, holding her nose closed between thumb and forefinger.
A large gash ran across the body's back, the wound cauterised by the
immense heat. Deep black scorch marks obscured most of the features of
the corpse, but as Shampoo circled around to its other side, she caught
sight of a sliver of pure white.
"The sword," she gasped. She had assumed it would have been swept away
by the ocean. Ranma's blackened hand was closed tightly around the sword's
handle in a solid grip.
Shampoo looked back at the sizable wound on Ranma's back and wondered how
the girl had managed to grip the sword that skewered her after the fall.
She reached down and took ahold of the sword's handle, and tugged it
gently.
Ranma's grip was strong; all Shampoo managed to do was tug the girl's
body slightly along the sand. Frowning, Shampoo tugged harder, but still
found she could not free the sword from the corpse's grip.
"I'm sorry," Shampoo whispered quietly as she reached for her sword. It
did not feel good to desecrate the dead, but she had no choice. Bringing
her sword to Ranma's arm, she pressed the edge against the girl's wrist,
then slowly raised the blade, ready to slice.
"Nnng ...." Ranma moaned into the sand, her hand loosing the sword for a
moment then gripping it more tightly than before.
"What the hell?" Shampoo exclaimed, jumping back in utter shock. She
landed on her backside a short distance away and stared at Ranma. "She's
... alive?"
Ranma moaned again, a pained, pitiful sound; barely audible through the
soaked sand. Her body shifted slightly, and she choked, trying to
breathe.
Sheathing her sword, Shampoo leaned forward and gingerly placed a hand on
Ranma's shoulder, using it to turn the burned girl over onto her back.
Ranma's chest rose and fell shakily with laboured breath. Her frail body
shivered in the sea breeze, her teeth chattering loudly.
"This can't be," Shampoo murmured, eyes wide in fright. "It's impossible."
The impossible proof, however, lay before her; with every twitch of her
body, Ranma terrified Shampoo further.
Shampoo's mind boggled as she tried to decide what course of action to
take. Her train of thought was interrupted, however, as she noticed a
small red symbol on Ranma's stomach, just above the sword wound. She
did not recognise it; she did not need to recognise it to feel unsettled
by it.
Wisps of steam rose slowly from it and as Shampoo lowered her hand toward
it she could feel an intense heat that threatened to burn her. She
swallowed nervously and decided to take the girl to one who would know
what had happened.
Slipping one arm under Ranma's neck, the other under her knees, Shampoo
lifted the limp body off the ground and started back toward her village,
Ranma's sword dragging along in the sand behind her with every hurried
step.
"This can't be good ...." Shampoo uttered, looking down at the smouldering
body in her arms.
* * *
"After I fell, the first thing I remember is waking up in the Amazon
village again."
"Let me get this straight. You were shot with an arrow, fell off a cliff,
and survived," Akane said, flatly. "That's the craziest story I've ever
heard."
Ranma smiled at her companion. "Well, you're still young yet. You'll hear
stranger ones, I'm sure."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Akane asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You honestly expect me to believe that?"
A light rustling sound came from the bushes behind Akane; before the Tendo
girl could even blink, Ranma was standing, sword drawn, peering intently at
the bushes.
"Get down," she said, stepping past Akane. "Stay behind me."
Akane nodded dumbly, lowering herself closer to the ground as she turned to
watch Ranma. Her mind was far too busy wondering how Ranma had moved so
quickly to spend time debating whether or not to follow Ranma's order.
Ranma crouched slightly, staring deeply into the bushes, eyes scanning back
and forth amongst the foliage. As she caught sight of something moving,
she slowly and silently slid her sword back into place beneath her cloak.
Her hand moved slightly toward the bush and then - suddenly, in a flurry of
red hair and black fabric - darted into and out of the bushes.
Akane jumped slightly at the sudden movement, and stared at Ranma as the
redheaded girl turned to face her -- holding up a small, furry object. The
object wriggled violently in Ranma's hand, trying desperately to break
free.
Akane peered at the furry ball, recognising it as a tanuki. The small
raccoon dog shivered uncontrollably in Ranma's icy grip as the chill air
around her leeched away its body warmth.
"Oh! How cute!" Akane exclaimed. Jumping to her feet, she stepped over to
pet the animal.
The tanuki wriggled against Ranma's hand, trying to escape her chill touch.
It rubbed itself up against Akane's far warmer hand as she touched it, much
to Akane's delight. Akane petted the creature happily, cooing gently to
it as it pressed its head up against her fingers.
Ranma sighed, exasperated, as Akane fawned over the animal.
"We must leave," she said firmly. "Now."
"Why?" Akane asked, looking up from the animal for a moment before
returning her attention to it. She ruffled the thick, black fur atop its
head, a little too enthusiastically for the creature's liking. "What an
adorable little thing you are!"
"Because," Ranma said, pulling the tanuki away from Akane's affectionate
hands and lowering it to the ground, "there are more dangerous things in
this forest than tanuki."
The tanuki realised this as well, darting into the bushes and scampering
away from the humans as fast as it could.
Akane watched the bushes sadly as the sound of the tanuki's retreat faded
into silence. Sighing, she looked over at Ranma, who was peering up
between the branches and leaves overhead, at the grey sky above.
"We've spent too long here as it is," Ranma said. "The sun will be coming
up soon. We should press on. If we leave now, we'll be there by tonight."
"Tonight?" Akane asked, her mood suddenly improving. "Then you can start
teaching me about these hunters?"
"There are a few other things to be done first," Ranma replied, looking
over her shoulder at Akane as she stepped toward the edge of the clearing.
"Like what?" Akane asked, stepping after Ranma. "You said you'd teach me!"
"Perhaps we'll start the lessons now," Ranma replied, arching an eyebrow.
"Patience is the first thing you should learn."
"But-"
"The details will come in time. Don't worry - you won't be bored in the
meantime."
"What do you mean?" Akane asked, pushing aside a branch as she stepped into
the forest behind Ranma.
"You'll see," Ranma replied as she stepped around a tree. "Be patient,
Akane. You'll have your chance to avenge your mother."
"That's all I want," Akane replied, a determined edge to her voice. The
rumble that her stomach emitted was no less determined. "Although some
food would be nice."
"I could catch another tanuki, if you're hungry," Ranma offered.
"That's not funny," Akane replied, paling slightly.
Ranma smiled over her shoulder at Akane as she led her young charge into
the depths of the forest.
Neither noticed the pair of eyes watching them intently from the treetops.
* * *
They're waiting for you. It's time to wake up.
Ranma groaned hoarsely, her throat too dry to form words. Slowly,
straining as if she were lifting mountains, she managed to force her
eyelids open. A hazy brown light filled her eyes, stinging them; she
quickly closed them again and waited a moment before daring to try again.
As she blinked, the haze seemed to coalesce into more solid lines and
shapes. A searing pain scratched across her face, behind her eyes, and
she instinctively tried to raise her hand toward the pain. However, all
she could manage was to raise it slightly before it started to shake
uncontrollably. Groaning again, she lowered it once more.
A fuzzy shape slid into her view, obscuring the light. A distant voice
echoed into Ranma's ears from the shadows above.
"Don't try to move."
Grunting in concentration, trying to block out the loud ringing in her
ears, she willed her eyes to move. Squinting, Ranma watched as the
fuzziness slowly resolved into a face -- the face of an old woman.
"You," she managed to squeak through her damaged throat, panic seizing her
heart.
"Stop fidgeting!" Cologne instructed, glaring down at the redheaded girl.
"It will be a while before you can even move, so you might as well rest for
now."
Ranma tried to turn her head as Cologne stepped away from the bed and
disappeared from sight, but found the old woman was right; she could not
muster the strength.
Her immediate panic faded somewhat as she realised Cologne did not intend
to kill her; instead her mind began asking just why that was so.
"How curious," came Cologne's voice. "You should be dead."
The shuffling of feet filled Ranma's ears, and Cologne's face moved into
view once again. The old woman bore a weary expression, dim eyes watching
Ranma from within sunken eye sockets. She let out a long sigh, and shook
her head.
Ranma tried to follow Cologne with her eyes as the old woman turned and
walked away from the bed. Sunlight flooded into the hut as Cologne pulled
aside the cloth covering that hung across the doorway; Ranma squinted as
the bright light burned into them, leaving Cologne as a vague silhouette
against the doorway.
"I know what you're thinking," Cologne added. "We're not going to kill
you. You might as well just relax and try to get some sleep. I'll be back
for you later."
* * *
A songbird fluttered effortlessly across the treetops, choosing a sturdy
branch upon which to land. Letting out a tuneful call, it looked back and
forth through the forest, anxiously checking for any females who might have
heard its song.
Two females did indeed hear its call; but as they were of entirely the
wrong species, the bird merely fluttered its wings in mild irritation and
swept itself off the branch, soaring once more above the tree line.
Akane heartily munched on one of the many apples she carried as she watched
the small bird flutter off into the distance. Ranma kept pace alongside
her, silently mulling over old memories that had lost no clarity or
intensity through the years.
Finishing one apple, Akane tossed aside the core and ravenously attacked a
second, biting into the skin with gusto. The loud sounds of apples being
demolished eventually grew to be too much for Ranma.
"Sorry," Akane said sheepishly, pausing as Ranma peered at her. "I'm just
so hungry."
"It's all right," Ranma replied, something of a smile coming to her face,
almost as an afterthought. "I don't mind. I'm glad you like the apples."
"They're delicious!" Akane enthused. "Are you sure you don't want one?"
"No," Ranma replied, shaking her head. "I'm not hungry."
"No sleep, no food," Akane observed. "Aren't you tired?"
"Not really," Ranma replied with a barely noticeable shrug.
"Travelling around a lot must make you pretty tough," Akane commented.
"And you've been travelling around for ... what?"
Akane looked over at her travelling companion, who seemed to have sunk
back into herself, eyes staring blankly off into the far distance. Akane
watched Ranma for a moment, wondering how the girl held herself so still;
somehow Ranma seemed to glide across the ground without moving her feet,
her cloak making no sound as it was drawn across the grass.
If it weren't for the occasional puff of misty breath that rose from
Ranma's mouth, Akane decided the cloaked girl could very well be mistaken
for a statue.
Sighing, Akane abandoned hope of getting an answer, and returned her
attention to her apple.
The pair cleared a small, grassy rise, and as Akane peered beyond the
slight elevation, she was stunned by the lush green valley that extended
off into the distance, between two imposing mountains.
"Oh, it's amazing," she breathed, taking in the sight of the deep, moist
forest that blanketed the valley floor, the lush green vegetation a sharp
contrast to the jagged mountains that framed it.
Coming to a stop near a tree trunk, Akane leaned up against it and took
a moment to appreciate the majestic beauty of the landscape before her, her
eyes lost amongst the wonder of it all.
Ranma stopped a few paces down the hill toward the valley, and turned to
look back at the Tendo girl.
"Are you tired?" she asked, looking around for a place to rest.
"No, I just..." Akane began, looking down at Ranma for a moment, "I just
haven't seen anything like this before. I mean, I've seen photos, but
never...."
"It is a beautiful place," Ranma agreed at length, looking back to the
valley herself.
Akane nodded silently, watching a small flock of birds gracefully drifting
across the valley below.
"Come," Ranma said, gesturing toward the valley. "We should go. The
forest may be beautiful, but that makes it no less dangerous to be
wandering through at night."
With another nod, Akane stepped away from the tree and started down the
hill, a little behind Ranma. Something in Ranma's tone told her to believe
that warning.
* * *
Light.
"He's stronger than I thought."
"So he's alive?"
"Barely - he should be dead. He must have a strong will to have survived
that fall."
"And now he's ...."
"Never mind that, child. If he is strong, he'll adapt."
"This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Great-Grandmother."
"You did what you had to. You will be punished for your failure, and
through it you will become a stronger warrior."
"I ... understand. How will I be punished?"
"You will take care of him. You'll be his guide, and show him the Amazons
mean him no harm."
"But--"
"Shampoo, you must understand. We must show him we mean him no harm. We
-must- ally ourselves with him. You must show him, Shampoo, that we are
not his enemies."
"How can I show him that? I'm the one who caused all of this ...."
"Consider that your punishment. You dishonoured yourself in battle; prove
your honour to that boy and you will redeem yourself."
Ranma groaned, sweat rolling from her forehead as the echoed voices of her
captors washed up on the shore of her consciousness, only to be swept away
again moments later by a wave of dizziness.
Feeling her grip upon reality wavering, Ranma was unable to stop herself
from tumbling back down into the thick blackness below her, the echoing
voices chasing her back into the dark, empty ocean.
* * *
Akane yawned, stretching her arms above her head as the daylight slowly
drained from the valley. The chirping of insects became louder with every
passing moment; she found herself swatting the small bugs away with
irritating frequency. The fact that Ranma remained completely unmolested
by the insect life did not improve her mood.
"Why don't these stupid bugs bother you?" she complained.
"They stay away from me," Ranma answered, without looking back. "They
don't like the cold."
"Neither do I," Akane replied, folding her arms in front of herself and
rubbing her upper arms for warmth. The humid forest air formed a thin,
chilled mist around Ranma, the wispy fog circling endlessly around her.
"Why's it always so cold around you?"
Ranma raised one arm, a small hand emerging from beneath the folds of her
cloak. Raising her index finger, she waggled it back and forth slightly.
"It's a secret."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," Akane sighed. "Everything's a secret
with you."
"All in good time, Akane," Ranma replied, arm vanishing beneath the pitch
black fabric of the cloak. "All in good time."
"Speaking of time," Akane said, wary of the fading light around them, "how
much longer will this trip take?"
"We're nearly there," Ranma replied, nodding her head slightly in a gesture
toward the forest before them. "Just a little further, at the base of that
mountain."
"Really?" Akane asked, a sudden excitement in her voice. To have an
actual, tangible destination to strive for was infinitely more comforting
than simply wandering for the sake of wandering, no matter how vague the
description.
Ranma nodded.
Akane smiled, happy for the first time in a few hours, and strode forward
with a newfound energy. The mossy ground, dank air, and abundant insects
seemed like minor problems to her now that she had a goal to shoot for,
even if it were only arriving at their destination.
She was brought to a halt suddenly as Ranma extended an arm outwards,
across Akane's chest, holding her back.
"What--"
"Shh!" Ranma hissed, before silently moving closer to Akane. "I can hear
something."
Akane blinked, looking around at the trees encircling them. She could
hear nothing other than the buzzing of insects that had filled her ears
for far too long, and the trickle of water from the many small streams
that ran down from the mountains.
Looking over at Ranma, Akane saw a tense expression on the redheaded girl's
face, head slowly turning as Ranma scanned the surrounding forest for the
source of the noise.
A silence descended upon them for just a moment, Akane becoming strongly
aware of the sound of her own heartbeat. Suddenly, she was surrounded by
impenetrable blackness, her screams silenced by the paralysing cold that
gripped her whole body.
* * *
Ranma pulled her cloak tightly around Akane and yanked her aside moments
before the source of her suspicion landed where the Tendo girl had been
standing. Backing off, Ranma snarled, releasing a shivering Akane from the
protection of her cloak.
Akane, gasping for air, slumped to the ground near Ranma's feet.
Ranma stepped away from Akane slightly, giving her companion a chance to
recover. Narrowing her eyes, she glared intently at the girl standing
before her with a sword already drawn.
The girl was clad in black, with several small daggers strapped across her
chest in a bandolier. A scabbard hung loosely from her belt, swaying back
and forth slightly. On the opposite side of the scabbard hung several
small pouches, each tied closed with a small, frayed piece of string.
Ranma snarled, having long ago recognised her assailant. Her suspicions
were only confirmed as the girl stepped out from the shadows, into a small
shaft of light cast down by the fading sun.
Hard eyes burned into Ranma from beneath dark brown hair, eyes that spared
only a momentary glance for Akane.
"I see you've found another apprentice," spoke the girl in an even tone.
"Touch her," Ranma warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl, "and
I'll tear out your heart, Ukyo."
* * *
I can feel you inside me ... what are you?
I am you, and you are me. We are one and the same.
That doesn't make any sense!
Just because you don't understand doesn't make it untrue.
Who ARE you? What's your name? Do you even have a name?
My name is Ranma Saotome.
It is not! Don't lie to me!
I'm not lying. That's the point, boy.
I don't understand ....
You will. Now wake up; you're making her worry about you.
Who?
* * *
The faint crackling of kindling burning on an open fire tugged at Ranma's
mind, lending her support to cling onto as she climbed desperately from the
bottomless pit of unconsciousness. She could feel the darkness reaching
up to take her again; panic drove her upwards ever faster.
The tighter she clung to the faint sound, the louder it got, and soon
other sounds joined it -- the distant howling of wind, the chirping of
insects. Gradually the darkness fell back, leaving Ranma on the threshold
of the light above.
Reaching high, she brushed her fingers against it for a moment; straining
higher, she took hold of it with her hand. As she tightened her grasp upon
it, the darkness fell away behind her, leaving her surrounded in light.
Light.
Her eyes opened slowly, a dull pounding in her head keeping her from
opening them fully. The view was familiar; the same roof, the same faint
orange light flickering against it.
Blinking a few times to try and clear her eyes, Ranma tried to sit up,
wondering how long she had been asleep for. It felt like she had slept
only a couple of hours; she was still exhausted. A sharp pain in her
stomach halted her rise and sent her plunging straight back down to the
bed. Groaning, she lifted one hand and brought it gingerly to the
source of the pain.
Her hand glided over her smooth stomach, her fingertips bumping up against
what felt like a scar; tilting her head, she tried to look down at herself.
It was at that moment that a realisation dawned upon her.
Breasts.
She had breasts.
Again.
She screamed, a piercing scream that sent agonising spikes of pain lancing
through her skull; the scream was cut short as she grabbed at her head,
gritting her teeth through the resonating pain that bounced back and forth
within her mind.
"Owwww ..." she croaked faintly, her throat hoarse.
Someone stirred alongside her; waiting for the pain to fade, Ranma
eventually tried turning her head to catch a glimpse of the person who was
with her. All she managed to make out was a fuzzy purple outline.
"You ..." she breathed, a powerful feeling of anger seeping into her heart,
washing away all other thoughts.
"You're awake," Shampoo observed, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she stood.
"Thank the gods; I thought you were going to die."
"You ..." Ranma repeated, staring hotly at the girl as she moved into view.
"I've been sitting here for a week," Shampoo explained, stepping closer,
"waiting for you to wake up. I've been ... worried about you."
"You ..." Ranma chanted, disbelieving her eyes as her father's killer
stepped up beside the bed.
"I--" Shampoo began, but was cut off as Ranma's hand, of its own accord,
flung itself at her throat, choking her into silence as it gripped her neck
with all Ranma's strength.
"You killed my father!" Ranma gasped through her singed throat, spittle
flying from her mouth as she shook with unbridled rage. "You killed my
father!"
"It was ... self defence!" Shampoo choked, her hands desperately gripping
Ranma's, trying to loose the vice-like grip that held her.
"You murdered him! He was my father!"
"I'm ... sorry!" Shampoo sobbed between heaving gasps for air, hot tears of
pain and regret streaming down her cheeks and over Ranma's hand. "I ...
had no choice ...."
Ranma cried out in fury, squeezing ever tighter around Shampoo's fragile
neck. She could feel Shampoo's pounding pulse beneath her sweat-soaked
skin, the desperate attempts to breathe through a windpipe that was rapidly
being crushed.
"Kill me now," Shampoo choked, letting her eyes close, "if that ... is
what you wish. My life is ... in your hands; take it ... if you will."
Shampoo lowered her hands from her neck, letting her body go limp as she
slowed her breathing.
Ranma felt the weight of the Amazon pressing down on her arms and stared
at the pale, tear-streaked face of her victim. The anger screamed from
within her, burning through her whole body; but within that unbearable
din she made out two voices.
I understand perfectly. This blade will destroy you and your entire
village.
I don't want to kill you. I'm here for the sword.
Eyes widening, Ranma released her grip upon Shampoo's throat; Shampoo
crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.
"I'm not gonna kill you," Ranma said, slowly lowering her arm once more.
Closing her eyes, she felt the violent waves of anger subsiding; as calm
stillness returned to her mind once more, she opened them again.
Shampoo coughed, holding her throat as she raised herself to her hands and
knees. She held herself there, making no attempt to stand.
"Why am I here?" Ranma asked, her voice quiet but steady.
"I ... found you on the beach," Shampoo answered, still sobbing. "You were
...."
"Burning..." Ranma whispered, staring blankly ahead. Images flashed
through her mind in a blur; seared flesh, scorching flames, endless torment
and suffering. Her body shook with the imagined impact of a wall of water,
bringing with it blissful freezing cold, sweet annihilation. Murky black
oblivion swept her downwards and from the depths something rose to greet
her--
As quickly as they came, the images vanished, leaving Ranma panting on the
bed. Shampoo knelt silently beside her now, watching with morbid
fascination.
"I found you lying there ... alive," Shampoo recalled, doubting her own
words. "I brought you here and you've been in bed for a week since."
"Why didn't you just take the sword and kill me?" Ranma asked, her gaze
fixed firmly on the roof, her tone challenging.
"I am not a thief," Shampoo said simply, looking down at the ground.
"But you -are- a murderer," Ranma replied in an even tone. It was not an
accusation; it was a statement of fact.
"Yes," Shampoo admitted in despair, eyes moist. "I am a murderer. I
killed your father.
"I'm sorry," Shampoo whispered, "I didn't want to kill anyone ...."
"Shampoo," came another voice, "leave us. I wish to speak with Ranma."
Shampoo nodded, fighting back tears, quickly standing and rushing past
Cologne.
Cologne stepped past her great-granddaughter as she dashed out of the hut.
Shaking her head sadly, Cologne hobbled over toward Ranma.
"She is not yet a warrior, that one," she commented to herself, leaning on
her staff as she neared Ranma's bed.
"Because she can't cope with killing innocent people?" Ranma asked
bitterly, matching eyes with the old woman.
"The decision to deal out death is not one to be taken lightly," Cologne
said, eyes not leaving Ranma's. "The ability to make that decision and
live with the consequences is the mark of a warrior."
"Warriors don't have to kill," Ranma shot back, "only murderers do."
Cologne sighed, and rested heavily on her staff.
"We didn't want to kill you, or your father. We just wanted to take the
sword from you," Cologne explained. "You didn't understand its power, and
you still don't. It's dangerous in your hands. If you had only listened to
reason and given us the sword--"
"Listened to reason?! You were the ones who murdered my father, don't talk
to me about listening to reason!"
"It was your father who struck first," Cologne pointed out. "We were
acting in self defence."
Ranma opened her mouth to yell her reply, but stopped short as she realised
she did not have one. What Cologne had said was true; it was her father
who attacked first.
"Your father killed three of my sisters," Cologne continued, "because he
didn't understand the power of that sword. If Shampoo had not stopped you,
you would have killed her."
"I ..." Ranma tried, but the words died in her throat. It was the truth;
she would have killed Shampoo without a second thought.
"We have both suffered losses; you have lost your father, I have lost my
sisters. There must be no more bloodshed."
"What now, then? You keep me prisoner here?" Ranma asked suspiciously.
She did not trust the old woman's offer in the slightest.
"We will keep you here, yes," Cologne replied, "while we nurse you back to
health. After that, you shall be free to go."
"Why didn't you just let me die?"
"Should we have?"
"Well, I ...."
"We brought you back," Cologne said, "because it was the right thing to
do. It was your father who wronged us; he paid the price. You were just
a bystander."
"Lucky me," Ranma sighed, feeling not at all lucky. She felt entirely
lost, utterly alone. For the first time in her life, she did not have
her father to guide her. However misdirected her father's guidance was, it
was better than ... this.
"I grieve for your loss," Cologne said softly, placing a hand on Ranma's
shoulder. "I am sorry your father died."
"I'm ... sorry, for what he did," Ranma replied quietly. "If I'd known
what he was going to do ...."
"Don't regret, Ranma," Cologne advised, squeezing Ranma's shoulder gently.
"Our actions define us as individuals. You did what you did because of who
you are. That is not something to regret."
"Then Pops is dead because of who I am," Ranma muttered.
"No; your father is dead because of who he was."
"And now he's lying in the forest. He's probably been eaten by an animal,
or something ...."
"Not quite," Cologne replied.
* * *
"Pops ...."
Ranma leaned heavily on Shampoo's shoulders, her limbs numb and lifeless;
the Amazon girl supported her as she looked down at the small grave. Tears
ran slowly down her cheeks, dripping onto Shampoo's arm.
"We buried him here," Cologne explained, gesturing toward the small mound
of earth, "beside the three he killed. He defeated Amazons in battle, that
is quite an achievement for an outsider."
"Achievement?" Ranma sobbed quietly.
"He bested our fighters in combat; few can say that. He shall be
remembered as ... a formidable challenge."
"I ..." Ranma tried, but words failed to come to her mouth. She forced
herself to turn - Shampoo got the hint, and turned Ranma's limp body
slightly to face Cologne.
Ranma looked down at the old woman, tears in her eyes, and managed a small
smile.
"Thank you, Cologne."
Cologne matched Ranma's eyes with her own, and nodded silently. Nothing
more needed to be said. She turned from the graves and started back toward
the village huts. Shampoo followed, carrying Ranma with her.
* * *
Ranma slurped at the vegetable stew with concealed enthusiasm; her appetite
had returned and she was very happy to have a meal in her belly again, but
she did not wish the Amazons to think she was letting down her guard. So
it was with a neutral face that she ate the stew, at a slow enough pace to
not appear as hungry as she actually was.
She had been bedridden for two weeks now, and her Amazon captors had been
nothing if not hospitable. Considering her father had felled three of the
villagers, she was amazed at their friendliness. They seemed to have
accepted her as one of their own in the short time she had been with them.
She had seen several villagers bringing in food and wood for the fire, but
the one who was always present was Shampoo, the very Amazon who had nearly
killed her. She was quiet, saying very little if anything at all; she
had the habit of never quite meeting Ranma's eyes with her own during the
sparse conversations they had. For the most part, Shampoo asked Ranma if
she would like some food, Ranma replied, and that was the end of it.
The lack of conversation and physical movement lead Ranma's mind to wander
far and wide. The return of her female form was a thought that occupied
her mind continually; a strong source of frustration for her.
Shampoo had explained that the hot water was in fact only a temporary cure,
resulting in an angry outburst from Ranma that left the Amazon in shaky
silence for two days.
She had tried once to upend a steaming bowl of stew over herself, but the
ever present Shampoo thwarted that plan. Without any other source of hot
water, Ranma found herself trapped in the female body she was beginning to
despise.
Repeated requests for hot water were made to both Shampoo and Cologne on
the occasions the matriarch visited, but all were denied. No reason was
ever given; the request was simply met with a unilateral 'no'.
She guessed it was something to do with the seeming absence of men from the
village.
When she was not quietly stewing over her female form, Ranma found her
thoughts returning to her father and the promise she had made to him before
he died.
Her father had always been something of a coward; all talk and no
substance. That was not to say he was unskilled as a martial artist - he
was indeed very talented - but the talent was mostly theoretical. Genma
did not seem inclined to fight for fighting's sake, and always avoided
confrontation where possible.
Ranma was mystified by the sudden change in her father. It was as though
he suddenly became a different person on that fateful day.
Although ....
As Ranma thought more about it, she came to realise that the change had not
been sudden at all. Genma had been far more irritable for the past few
months; comments that once bounced off him would irritate him greatly. He
became far more dedicated to the art, to the point of dragging Ranma to the
cursed springs of Jusenkyo for further training.
And then, there was the sword.
Genma did not carry much in the way of material possessions. He had a
strong thirst for money; but that was motivated more by a desire to put
food and wine in his belly than to purchase material possessions. Indeed,
other than the clothing on his back, Genma had never carried much.
Except the sword.
Genma was always strongly protective of the sword, explaining at length to
Ranma that it was a family heirloom and as such needed to be taken care of.
The sword was never used in actual combat; Ranma had assumed that Genma
simply did not want to damage the blade.
However, Genma began to use the sword during their training sessions,
introducing it as 'Garyoutensei', and explaining that Ranma would need to
become familiar with it.
Ranma had been unsure why it was so important to train with the sword;
Genma had until that point been adamant that relying upon a weapon was a
weakness that could be exploited.
However, grateful for any martial instruction, Ranma listened to Genma's
explanations of basic swordplay. She sparred against her father, using a
metal blade against Garyoutensei.
Her skills with the blade were very rudimentary, but she quickly got the
hang of the fundamentals.
She had never actually held Garyoutensei; her father insisted that she
would hold it when it belonged to her. The battle with Shampoo was the
first time Ranma had actually taken ahold of the sword's handle, but even
from that brief contact she had felt the heat inside--
"Fascinating weapon, is it not?"
Ranma looked up from the pale depths of her blade and caught sight of
Cologne standing near the doorway of the hut.
"It does not merely bring death; it brings utter destruction. It is a
weapon of immense power."
"I know," Ranma replied quietly, returning her gaze to the weapon.
"You felt that power, didn't you?" Cologne asked, stepping closer. "When
you touched it. Raw power, so deep and profound it almost feels like a
living being.
"Power that could tear down the heavens," continued Cologne, stepping
ever closer. "Power beyond your imagination; power beyond this world."
"I felt it," Ranma quietly admitted, eyes lost in the faintly pulsing
glow emanating from the sword.
"The legend says that where a normal sword cuts only flesh and bone, a
dragon's tooth cuts through the very essence of its victims, slicing the
spirit form as easily as the physical body. It cuts beyond the world we
live in, through the dual worlds of chaos and harmony, through the living
and the dead. It's a power you cannot begin to understand, let alone
control.
"I ..." Ranma murmured, Cologne's voice echoing in her mind.
"Give me the sword, Ranma," Cologne said. "I can seal it; keep it out of
human hands. It does not belong to this world."
Ranma stared deep into the milky blade, losing herself in the seemingly
infinite expanse of purest white light, with just the faintest tinge of
red--
The warmth of Cologne's hand on hers snapped Ranma out of her daydream; she
glanced up at the old woman, who was gently squeezing her sword hand.
"Give me the sword, Ranma Saotome," she intoned, looking intently at Ranma.
"Try to control it. Let it go."
"What?" Ranma asked, looking up at Cologne. "No, I'm not giving my sword
to you."
"Because you don't want to, or because you can't?"
"Of course I can!"
"Prove it."
"Fine!"
Ranma tried to loose her grip upon the sword but found herself unable to do
so. She became suddenly aware that her hand was straining, knuckles white
with the pressure she exerted upon the handle, gripping it as tightly as
possible.
"I ... can't," she whispered softly, willing her hand to relinquish its
grip. Her muscles strained, her arm shook as she tried to let go. A thin
sheen of sweat stained her forehead as she pushed herself, fighting to
release the weapon.
Cologne gently closed her hand around the handle, slowly but surely, taking
a firm grip near Ranma's trembling hand.
"That's it ..." she encouraged, placing her other hand on Ranma's shoulder,
pressing down gently on the small girl's frame. "Now ...."
Cologne gripped the handle and yanked, shoving downwards on Ranma's
shoulder at the same moment, tugging the sword with great difficulty
from Ranma's determined grasp. She staggered backwards with the blade,
which almost immediately lost its radiant white aura.
Ranma contorted on the bed, shaking violently as her hand tensed and
relaxed uncontrollably, trying to grip a sword that was not there.
Cologne, eyes wide, fearfully backed away; with every step she took, the
blade grew dimmer. Ranma's shaking increased, small grunts of pain
escaping her lips as she struggled to control her body.
"The sword," she choked, wrenching her head to face Cologne, "give it
back ... please ...."
Cologne looked down at the sword, now a dull grey, and back at the girl who
lay choking for breath before her.
"It can't be ...."
Ranma shook violently on the bed, her lips beginning to turn blue, her
panicked eyes locked on Cologne.
Cologne swallowed hard, staring at the obsidian blade; frowning deeply, she
looked over at Ranma once more. She had the sword now, but she could not
bring herself to take it from Ranma.
Shaking slightly, she swallowed and forced herself to step toward Ranma,
unable to ignore the helpless, agonised look in Ranma's eyes.
"Damn you," she whispered as she slowly lowered the sword into Ranma's
clutching hand. "You should have died when you had the chance."
Ranma's hand clumsily closed around the sword's handle; immediately the
sword flared back to life, the radiant white light erupting from the deep
black depths of the blade.
Ranma gasped for air, sucking in an enormous breath; the spasms subsided,
leaving her dazed, motionless but for the motions of her chest as her
breathing gradually returned to normal.
"What did you do to me!?" Ranma demanded, her tone dangerous, her face
reddening with each breath.
"I didn't do anything," Cologne replied, sadness in her eyes. "It was the
sword. I had hoped it wouldn't have ...."
"The sword?" Ranma asked, confusion displacing her anger.
"Yes," Cologne said with a nod. "This will complicate matters no end."
"Huh?" Ranma asked, eyes wide. "What do you mean, complicate? You nearly
killed me, again!"
Cologne frowned, mulling over her thoughts for a moment.
"How best to put it?" she wondered to herself with a sigh. She turned away
from Ranma and lowered herself gently to sit at the end of the bed. She
leaned forward against her stick, staring intently into the ground.
"If you stab someone," she continued at length, "they start to bleed, yes?"
"Yeah," Ranma nodded, "of course."
"If you pull the blade from their body, the bleeding is much worse than if
the blade is left inside the body. The blade itself contains the bleeding,
to a degree."
"I guess," Ranma agreed, confusion growing by the minute. "I dunno, I've
never really stabbed anyone ...."
"I think it is the same sort of situation here, child. The blade must have
pierced your very spirit."
"Huh?" Ranma asked, bewildered. "My spirit?"
"Yes," Cologne nodded. "Everyone has a spirit, it's what binds them to the
world. When you die, your spirit leaves your body and you leave this
world. Surely you must have some idea of what I'm saying?"
"I guess," Ranma tentatively agreed, "I never really learned much except
martial arts ...."
"When the sword is pulled away from your spirit, it 'bleeds', and you start
to die; to drift away from this world. When I returned the sword, it
sealed the hole, so to speak, so you stopped dying. Do you understand?"
"How do you know all of this?" Ranma asked, struggling to absorb the
information.
"When you've been around as long as I have, you learn things about the
world," Cologne replied.
"I don't know if I believe--"
"The proof is before you; I took the sword away, you began to die. I
returned it, you recovered. Believe or don't believe, it won't change what
happened, now, will it?"
"I suppose," Ranma reluctantly agreed. "What does this all mean?"
"For now," Cologne said, standing and stepping away from the bed. She
hobbled over toward the door, "You get to keep your sword."
* * *
Ranma sat quietly on a grassy verge with Cologne nearby. The sun bathed
the village in a gentle warmth that was maintained by a warm breeze that
gusted every few moments, sending ripples through the blades of grass.
It felt good to be in the sun, and Ranma was enjoying her first day out of
bed in a long time. She was deathly white, but not as thin as she had
been in the beginning; the stew she had been eating in increasing
quantities had made sure of that.
The warmth was a sharp contrast to the icy cold she had felt for the past
week; after her fever had broken, she spent most of her time shivering.
Now, with the gentle rays of the sun, she felt a soothing heat inside her
body that brought with it a sense of wellbeing.
She did not know why, but she did not feel as angry these days. Perhaps it
was the care with which the Amazon women looked after her, perhaps it was
her simply moving on after the tragedy of her father's death.
The more she thought about her father, the more she realised that the
Amazons had acted only in self defence. She did not forgive them. No, she
could never forgive them; but she could understand what they had done.
Shampoo practiced before them, moving through a slow series of motions with
her sword. Her sword arced lazily through the air with no real force
behind it; the purpose of her exercise seemed to Ranma to be balance and
control rather than purely attacking technique.
"She's sloppy," Ranma commented, watching Shampoo overbalance slightly on
a turn and nearly fall.
"She's distracted," Cologne replied.
"Distractions don't matter," Ranma retorted, shaking her head slightly,
"not when you're alone with the art."
"Mm," Cologne agreed. "You're right. She's young; she hasn't yet reached
her potential."
"She could do a lot better," Ranma said.
"You seem very well versed in the martial arts for someone so young,"
Cologne commented, looking quizzically over at the redheaded girl.
"I had a ... dedicated ... teacher," came the reply with a shrug of her
shoulders. "I studied the art all my life."
"A commendable pursuit," Cologne noted, "although a little narrow-minded."
"Maybe," Ranma conceded with another shrug. Narrowing her eyes a little,
she watched Shampoo more closely. "I don't get why she's so
distracted."
"Because of you, child."
"Me?" Ranma asked, looking across at the old woman.
"She's terrified of you. Can't you see it in her eyes?"
"I suppose she has reason to be," Ranma sighed. "I did try to kill her."
"It's not just that. She ...."
"She what?"
"She is not dealing very well with the consequences of her actions,"
Cologne explained. "She is letting the guilt destroy her. She was crying
for most of the first week you were here; she still cries herself to sleep
every night. She doesn't want anyone to know, but ... she's questioning
herself as a warrior. I think she wants to leave the tribe."
"Can she even do that?" Ranma asked.
"If she wants to," Cologne replied. "She would be disgraced and never
allowed to return to this place."
Ranma looked at the old woman, eyes wide.
"She would lose her family, her home, everything. That she is even
considering it shows how much this has harmed her. I shouldn't have pushed
her so hard ...."
"I ... I'd never thought of that," Ranma said quietly. "I'd been thinking
of Pops and me, I ...."
"Of course you were," Cologne said. "You lost your father, your teacher.
Shampoo ... Shampoo has lost herself.
"She thinks you're a demon," Cologne added, glancing over toward
Shampoo. "She thinks you've come from the spirit world to torment her
for murdering you. She's waiting for you to kill her."
"Maybe she's right," Ranma wondered, squeezing a fist tightly closed,
wondering at the clammy feel of her own skin. "I don't seem to be doing
anything but making her miserable. I'm still not sure why you're taking
care of me."
"Perhaps she is right," Cologne admitted. "We're taking care of you
because Shampoo wants to prove herself to you. She wants to redeem
herself in your eyes and earn your forgiveness. I don't think she really
wants to die."
"She killed my father. If she expects me to forgive her, she's an idiot."
Cologne watched Shampoo for a moment, sighing as the girl made another
mistake. Shaking her head slightly, she looked over at Ranma, who was
relaxing on the grass, eyes closed.
Cologne's eyes fixed upon Ranma's sword, which now lay safe within a
scabbard.
You really have no idea, Cologne thought. No idea at all.
Shampoo swung her sword in a quick overhead slash, bringing the tip of the
blade down to touch the dirt near her feet. She was not happy with her
performance; she decided to repeat the exercise. Raising her head, she
prepared herself for the challenge.
* * *
Ukyo looked up from the ground, the tip of her sword pressing gently into
the grassy earth beneath her.
"Don't insult me, monster," Ukyo spat, raising her blade to point at Ranma.
"I have no concern for your student. I come for you, and you alone."
"Are you all right?" Ranma asked Akane, peering sideways to catch a glimpse
of the Tendo girl struggling to breathe.
"Yeah," Akane coughed, "but ... don't ever do that again."
"I'm sorry, I had no choice," Ranma apologised, staring daggers at Ukyo.
"She would have killed you if I hadn't pulled you aside."
"I'll cut that lying tongue from your mouth," Ukyo fumed.
"Will you ever leave me alone?" Ranma asked, tiredly. "You can't defeat
me."
"I'll follow you to the ends of the earth!" Ukyo declared, "I'll never rest
until I've avenged my mother. I will have my revenge!"
"Ranma?" Akane asked, looking at her, then at Ukyo.
"Stay back, Akane," Ranma replied, eyes not leaving Ukyo's form. "This is
not your fight."
"But--"
"Don't argue!" Lowering herself into a ready stance, Ranma raised her
sword across herself in a defensive posture. "Come and get me, Ukyo."
Ukyo nodded almost imperceptibly and, as Akane shuffled backwards against
the trunk of a tree, charged toward Ranma.
Ranma stood motionless as Ukyo hurtled toward her, sword flying through the
air; at the last moment, she flicked her wrist, raising Garyoutensei to
deflect the blow.
Ukyo's metal sword glanced off the hot white blade, sliding along its
length, sending Ukyo stumbling off to one side.
Ranma twirled silently, following Ukyo's motion with her body, and shoved
the other girl with an elbow to her back, sending Ukyo barreling toward
a tree.
Ukyo raised her arms and slammed into the tree, letting her forearms soften
the impact. Growling, she pushed herself off the tree and whirled to face
Ranma once again.
"Lesson one," Ranma called in Akane's direction. "Don't overextend
yourself; you'll lose your balance and end up head butting a tree."
"Uh," Akane muttered, taken by surprise, "o-okay ...."
"Don't mock me!" Ukyo raged, leaping toward Ranma. "How dare you!"
"Lesson two," Ranma repeated, deflecting Ukyo's wild attack once more,
matching a furious flurry of blows with expertly timed parries and blocks.
"Don't let your emotions rule your body.
"If you do," Ranma continued, ducking below a high swing; she moved forward
beneath Ukyo's extended arms and punched her opponent in the stomach,
sending the girl staggering backwards. "You'll just make mistakes."
"You dare to turn our duel into a lesson?!" Ukyo wheezed, furious beyond
all reason. "DIE!"
Ranma planted a foot behind herself, bracing against the onslaught of
powerful slashes from Ukyo.
Blow met counterblow, attack met counterattack; Akane struggled to keep up
with the blurred shapes that were the two swords.
Clanging sounds filled the forest with each powerful collision of swords,
Ranma finding herself being pushed back by the sheer power of her
opponent's strikes. Ukyo's anger drove her onwards, her rage giving her
a strength and speed that Ranma had not expected.
An overhead chop was barely blocked, Garyoutensei holding Ukyo's sword at
bay just above Ranma's forehead. Ranma focussed her eyes on the blade, but
immediately realised this was a mistake. She felt Ukyo's movement, but by
then it was too late; her opponent's free hand sailed through the air and
smashed powerfully into Ranma's jaw in a brutal uppercut, sending Ranma's
head flying back.
"Ranma!" Akane called, jumping to her feet. She was too far away to help;
all she could do was watch as Ukyo brought her sword back quickly, swinging
it in almost a complete circle. The blade swung over Ukyo's head, behind
her back, and was brought up with intense force into Ranma's stomach.
Akane's eyes widened in silent horror as the tip of Ukyo's sword pierced
Ranma's cloak, silky ripples running through the material as the metal
drove deep into it.
Ranma cried out in surprise, Garyoutensei flying from her grip and
embedding itself halfway into the ground. Her head drooped forward,
surprise in her eyes as she looked at Ukyo's face, a face bearing the
ultimate satisfaction; the satisfaction of a lifetime dream being realised.
"Lesson three," Ukyo growled, eyes intently locked upon Ranma's. "Don't
piss Ukyo Kuonji off."
Ranma choked, blood spurting from her mouth as she slumped to her knees.
Ukyo watched her fall, taking a step back to watch the collapse.
Ranma toppled backwards, landing limply on the ground with a dull thud;
vacant eyes stared at the sky as a pool of blood began to form around her,
Ukyo's sword still protruding from her stomach.
"I've done it, Mother!" she cried, throwing her head back and calling to
the heavens above. "I've finally done it!"
Akane's scream brought Ukyo's attention back to Earth but not in time to
avoid the fist that slammed into her face.
Ukyo stumbled back, grabbing her nose as blood started to stream over her
mouth. Crying out in pain, she snarled angrily at Akane.
"You killed her!" Akane cried, apocalyptic anger radiating from her body.
"I'll make you pay!"
"My fight isn't with you," Ukyo replied, taking a step backwards. "I've
done what I came to do."
"Yeah, well," Akane countered, lowering herself into a fighting stance,
"your fight is with me now!"
"If you wish to share in your master's fate," Ukyo said, turning away from
Akane, "I suggest you start training. I won't kill a defenseless person.
Unlike your master, I have principles."
"Why, you ..." Akane seethed, and threw a punch at the back of Ukyo's head.
Ukyo was long gone by the time Akane's fist was even halfway toward her,
leaping gracefully through the air. She landed softly in a tree branch
before launching herself over the treetops and out of sight.
"Damn you!" Akane cried, and rushed forward to give chase.
"Akane ... let her go ...."
Akane whirled around at the sound of Ranma's voice, abandoning the chase to
rush to Ranma's side. She threw herself to her knees by Ranma's head; knee
deep in Ranma's warm blood, but far too upset to care.
"Ranma," she said, taking Ranma's head into her lap, "I can't believe you
lost ...."
"Neither can I," Ranma said weakly. "How on Earth did she get so good so
fast?"
Akane reached over and gingerly touched Ukyo's sword, unsure of what to do.
"Why did you stop me? I was going to--"
"To what, kill her?"
Akane fell silent, and looked down at the ever-expanding pool of Ranma's
blood.
"Don't be so eager to deal out death," Ranma said quietly, coughing on her
own blood. "Once you kill someone, there's no way to take it back. If you
can't deal with that it will destroy you from the inside out."
"I wasn't--"
"Besides; I can usually beat Ukyo with my eyes shut," Ranma replied
contemplatively, looking up at the sky. "If I lost, you wouldn't have
stood a chance against her. I don't understand how she got so -fast-.
"She must have found some new training technique to improve her speed that
much, that quickly."
Akane tugged gently at the sword, far too concerned with the immense
quantities of blood that pooled beneath Ranma to respond to the insult. She
blinked in surprise as Ranma didn't react to the tugging, instead continuing
her monologue.
"I was sloppy, I should have been paying more attention to the fight. I'm
just used to Ukyo being pretty easy to beat ...."
"Ranma," Akane interrupted, growing increasingly worried, "you're
bleeding."
"I know," Ranma replied, glancing down at the blade protruding from her
cloak. She sighed. "What a pain."
"What a pain?" Akane repeated, taken aback. "That's all you have to say
about it?"
"Yeah," Ranma replied, coughing up a mouthful of blood. "But on the bright
side, at least it got Ukyo off my back. I should have thought of this
earlier."
Akane said nothing; she was utterly, utterly lost.
"Do me a favour," Ranma said, looking up at Akane's face. "Pull this damn
sword out of me. It hurts like hell."
"Uhh," Akane replied, numbly. "Oh ... kay."
Reaching over, Akane gripped the handle of Ukyo's sword with a pale,
trembling hand. She felt as if she were about to throw up. Tugging
gently, she heard the sickening sound of the metal sliding out from Ranma's
flesh.
"Lesson four," Ranma said quietly, as Akane slowly pulled the blade from
her midsection. "Don't be overconfident."
Akane pulled the blade upwards, watching the metal slide slowly from the
inky blackness of Ranma's cloak. She frowned slightly in surprise as she
noticed something odd - no blood on the blade.
She kept tugging, and slowly as the tip came into view, she saw that only
a small part of the sword had blood stains upon it. Staring at the sword
for a moment, she then glanced down at Ranma with a puzzled look on her
face.
"The sword didn't go in that deeply," Ranma answered her question before it
was asked. "It's not as bad as it looks."
"It looked pretty bad," Akane commented, looking back to the sword. Ukyo
had pushed nearly the whole length into Ranma, yet only a few centimetres
of its length were stained with blood.
"Maybe I should check it out," Akane suggested, eyeing the sword curiously.
Surely there should be more blood on the blade?
"I've got to find out how Ukyo moved so fast," Ranma noted, deep in
thought, ignoring Akane's suggestion.
"You're bleeding to death!" Akane exclaimed, her panic finally overwhelming
her confusion. Tossing Ukyo's sword aside, she gingerly brought her hands
toward Ranma's stomach. "We've got to do something!"
"I'll be fine," Ranma said dismissive. "I've taken worse. Don't worry
about me. You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"Well, not reall-- wait! How the hell can you say you're fine, you're
bleeding all over the place!"
"Don't exaggerate," Ranma scolded, pulling herself up to a sitting
position, and shuffling over a little to lean up against a tree trunk.
"Just give me a few minutes."
Akane slumped backwards, sitting in the bloodied dirt as she watched Ranma
lean back against the tree. Her eyes stared, unblinking, at the bizarre
scene unfolding before her.
Ranma breathed softly, blood-stained hands emerging from within the flowing
fabric of her robe and coming together over her stomach. She pressed them
gently down onto herself, closing her eyes and tilting her head back
slightly as she applied pressure.
Small ripples flowed outwards from her hands, running through the material
of her cloak as a quiet humming sound filled Akane's ears.
Ranma's mouth opened slightly, her breath coming more slowly through her
reddened lips as her body relaxed totally against the tree. She held that
position for several moments.
"What are you ... doing?" Akane asked quietly, but no answer came.
Ranma's head slumped, chin falling to her chest as her hands dropped away
from her stomach and fell into her lap. She started to tilt slightly;
Akane, noticing Ranma was about to fall, hastily scrambled over and grabbed
Ranma's shoulder.
An icy feeling stabbed her hand, driving up her arm to her shoulder; Akane
jolted back, reeling. She landed hard on her backside, instinctively
cradling her hand to her chest, staring wide-eyed at Ranma.
Ranma's eyes slowly began to open; where once there was two irises and
pupils, Akane saw only pitch black. Gasping, she pushed herself further
away.
"What ... are you?" she asked, watching as the darkness slowly faded,
leaving Ranma's eyes as they once were.
"A ... martial artist," Ranma replied with some effort, focussing her eyes
on Akane. "Just like you."
* * *
Ranma stepped gingerly, wincing slightly with each step she took. Akane
followed numbly behind her, her mind trying to digest all that had
happened.
Two days ago she had been an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life; but
now ....
This is far from normal, she thought to herself, looking down at the
bloodstains covering her gi. Never in her life had she seen so much blood;
and yet Ranma simply shrugged it off as if it were nothing.
What kind of person does that?
Akane stared at Ranma, noting the slight wince with each step the redheaded
girl took.
She does feel pain then, Akane reasoned. What has she been through that
she can just shrug off being stabbed in the stomach?
Tossing ideas back and forth in her mind, Akane found herself short of any
reasonable answers. She recalled the unnerving sight of Ranma's eyes; the
memory threatened to send her train of thought spiraling out of control.
* * *
The air around Ukyo's sword returned quickly to normal as Ranma and Akane
left; without Ranma's chilling presence there was nothing to keep the
temperature low.
Nobody was around to hear the bubbling sound that filled the air; nor would
anyone hear as the bubbling sound became an intense sizzling.
Ukyo's sword sank slightly into the muddy ground as Ranma's blood began to
steam and bubble around it, a sickly odour of death rising into the air as
the crimson liquid began to boil.
Within a few moments the blood was gone, evaporated into a thin red mist
that was lost on the breeze; leaving Ukyo's sword buried in a steaming
patch of dried-out dirt.
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T E N
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