Katakana – the simplified Japanese alphabet used to describe names and places
"Heritage"
-----------------
In an anti-climatic thud, the eldest of the Amazons fell onto her face, unconscious. Solicitously, Ranma picked her up, taking her inside the Nekohaten. Cologne always bounced back quick.
-
"Ranma, now that you have joined my House, what is your ambition?" With his completed challenge for adoption into Amazon society, 'son-in-law' had vanished.
"Teach me about magic." Maybe today he'd actually learn.
Thinking of Jusenkyo, Cologne sighed at the exhibited single-mindedness; being female was an obvious strength, not a weakness. The matriarch launched into a lecture in an ancient, barely comprehensible Chinese dialect. This lesson should broaden horizons; Ranma had become family, and therefore her responsibility.
Snorting in annoyance at the incomprehensible babbling, Ranma interrupted, speaking humbly in technically perfect Chinese: "Oh withering mummy, she who scares little children and is known for incontinence, please be content to punish this unworthy sterile game-animal!"
Cackling like a baboon, the matriarch nearly unbalanced and slipped off her staff. Then she struck.
Cologne's reaction surprised him as he rubbed his forehead; he'd beaten that dazzlingly polite greeting out of Mousse just yesterday! Puzzlement and a small bruise occupied his face.
Hopping outside, the old woman prodded Shampoo into maneuverability, and directed the girl to join them. (She had been neutralized with shiatsu during the earlier challenge for adoption.)
Switching back into Japanese, he queried: "Did I mess up the syntax? I know you won't teach me unless it is in Chinese, and you told me Shampoo's tutoring didn't help."
Shampoo looked offended.
"Having Mousse tutor you is not a good idea. Now why did I disapprove of my grand-daughter's teaching again?"
Catching on maybe he didn't politely ask the honored elder for wisdom, he used his true Chinese expertise: "Ranma no know why old woman no like. This talk-talk is best and so cute! Shampoo is wonderful teaching girl!"
Nodding perkily, Shampoo spoke in Japanese: "Airen is too too right! Is best way to communicate. Very, very sexy!"
Proud of their accomplishments, the two considered heirs by the matriarch smiled winningly.
Shaking her head, Cologne asked Ranma to repeat his polite greeting to Shampoo.
Mayhem.
Watching her great-granddaughter yell at Ranma in Mandarin about her perfectly healthy bladder, while trying to brain him with a mallet, caused Cologne to smile wistful while remembering her own youth.
----
Neatly catching Genma's fists, Ranma ended their morning sparring session with a great deal of ki-enhanced pressure.
He struggled the old man into the dojo, ignoring the powerful Crouch of the Wild Tiger, as his father begged and pleaded for breakfast. "Such an unfeeling boy, to make your own father suffer starvation when Kasumi's delectable miso soup is waiting, not fifty yards away!"
Ignoring the moaning and crocodile tears, Ranma settled down to meditate and slowly increased pressure until his father realized it might be smart to shut up.
"Now that I have captured your attention Father, I'd say its time we spoke of my heritage." If a relative happened to be a powerful magician, now would be a great time for a formal introduction.
Surprised at Genma's frantic struggling, Ranma felt a ki force rising to disrupt his own. Three years ago, such a trick might have worked, but now he merely channeled the ki, negating and absorbing its power.
"We are having this discussion old man. I know about the Chilling Lips of Death, the Ghost of a Thousand Fists, and I know I am your better in our Art."
Seeming to relax, but still filled with tension, Genma tried a complex submission maneuver using his legs to attack vulnerable joints. Ranma simply a launched a mini-ki-blast wherever his father tried to grab him, until Genma gave up.
"You ready to talk yet old man? If it will make you speak, I'll promise a dozen course meal afterwards...... better than Kasumi's."
Unusually serious, Genma stared at his son. "Boy, you hold honor higher than I, so if you want the real story, you'll swear no harm will come to me over it." As an afterthought, he added, "And two weeks of food."
"I don't make promises I can't keep. Why does this frighten you? What've you sold me off for now?" With his angst out of the way, Ranma returned: "One week is the limit."
With a roar like a drill sergeant, Genma thrust his arms apart and Opened the Gates with the Yama-sen-ken, breaking Ranma's grip and blasting him away.
Adapting to the unexpected, Ranma bounced off a platform of semi-solid ki, gaining control of the momentum. Nailing his fleeing father's back with a meteor kick, he sent them both through the dojo doors and into the koi pond outside.
Dragging the panda back, leaving a furrow of claw marks in the dirt, Ranma observed it held a sign reading, 'Let's see you make me talk now boy!' -Flip- 'Ten days – compromise.'
With a snort of contempt, Ranma activated both curses using a large infusion of hot ki. He grabbed the sign, and broke it over his human father's head, stating blandly "I don't think that will be hard; forget the food."
Assuming a stance, both Saotomes struck at each other. Genma's goal involved a quick cheap shot followed by breakfast. Ranma wanted answers and wasn't playing around.
Three minutes later Genma Saotome had assumed the submission posture of the Saotome School – the not-so-dreaded 'Carp on a Cutting Board.'
Smirking at his limp opponent on the floor in front of him, Ranma made a victory sign with his left hand and said, "Talk." It was not a request.
"Ask your mother."
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Promises are promises, but life is life." Genma drooled silently thinking, 'Maybe I should have taken the week while the offer was on the table?'
Sighing, Ranma went off to find Nodoka. He could slowly drag the story out of his old man, complete with embellishments and self-aggrandizement, or he could hear the straight truth from his mother. Honestly, he should have asked her first, but somehow they always ended up talking about sex, which still made him uncomfortable. 'Stupid gluttonous, lying old man.'
Five minutes later, when Genma sprang up off the dojo floor, ready spill guts for those wonderful meals, Ranma had already left. With a little more patience, a later, grueling ordeal could have been completely avoided.
----
"Mom?"
"Yes dear?"
"Tell me about my heritage please."
Nodoka's eyes seemed to lose a great deal of their animation, and she stared out at the cherry trees around the private nook they had walked to. A cloud resembling a flattened P-chan drifted lazily in the sky, slowly morphing into another shape.
"Your dad; he gave permission for this?"
"He told me to ask."
"Well I can't speak much of Genma's parents. I was told they perished in the last world war, but we both know your father, so the real story could be something else." Nodoka sighed fondly.
"As for my side; well you have famous warriors and scoundrels in your bloodline. Miyamoto Mushashi and Iwaru Aoi for instance, and one of your great-great-grandfathers was Ainu. Some might hold that against you, so be careful who you tell."
Staring at the sky, Ranma pondered his heritage; he had never heard of Iwaru Aoi.
Finishing her drawn out pause, Nodoka continued: "My mother also told me, when I was a little girl, about how dozens of generations back, our fore-mother was a water-sprite. Whether or not you believe this is your choice.
"The real part of our heritage, is my ancestral family curse: our female children will love the 'cockroaches of this world.' That's why warriors feature prominently in our bloodline, the kami cursing us believed anything with an indomitable will to live, no matter what punishments assailed them, counted as such."
Flashback Genma being tripped by Happosai. Genma getting viciously savaged by the crowd of women chasing Happosai. Genma surviving on cardboard and snails after incurring his master's displeasure. Nodoka thrashing Genma with a bokken after she let him see her naked. . . . Repeat for months on end. end FB
Thinking carefully of how well Kuno ignored injury, Ranma thought this perfectly explained why his amnesiac girl side felt an attraction. 'Cockroach' was such an appropriate word.
"Do roaches have spines?"
"I don't think so."
Very appropriate.
"How come this secret terrifies the old man?"
"Poor Genma still thinks he forced me to marry him with his wonderful little Art. This guilt binds him more effectively than other bonds I could create." Nodoka sighed longingly. "I'm hopelessly in love with the scumbag, which means I accept him totally for what he is. Through the generations, we've learned such painful lessons from our wayward husbands." She unsheathed the ever-present katana for emphasis. "I might have said something about my ancestral curse slowly emasculating an adulterous husband with an agonizing gangrenous wound, but such trifles are so hard to remember. Why I can't even remember what the curse would consider cheating!"
Mother and son shared a round of light laughter. A nearby shrubbery seemed to flinch, but maybe it was a strong summer breeze, and not a fat martial artist hiding with the Way of the Silent Thief.
"So if I have girls, they'll be under this curse too?"
"No." Her cheerful eyes shouted 'Surprise!'
Picking himself up from the ground, he stared at his mother.
"Really Ranma, the curse transfers through women; don't marry a man. Why do you think I've pushed so hard for your manliness?"
"The contract?" He ventured hesitantly, thinking 'If she loves and accepts Genma for exactly who he is, no wonder Mom seems crazy sometimes.'
"Not at all dear; I want lots of little grandchildren to dote over. If you ever need help arranging your mistresses, I'll be there for you. Mom has contacts with geisha clans."
"Um. . . . . thanks. Can we talk about something else now?"
Cheerfully, Nodoka chirped, "Let's talk about sex!"
----
"Hey Nabiki, I found something new out about my family; could definitely affect how my married life proceeds."
"How interesting. . . . . and now you've come to me to make this little problem all better! Standard 2500 listener's fee, and 10,000-yen–plus-expenses solution; you should know the drill by now Ranma." The mercenary girl sounded regretful, like pointing out obvious details was quite a chore.
"Oh; okay, if you're not interested, you should have said so." Ranma began walking slowly towards the exit to Nabiki's room. She made no move to stop him, and looked bored.
Ranma's dreams of charging for the information the kami considered his father a cockroach shattered, as he made a show of stepping into the outer hallway. That ten yen would have been so sweet!
--three hours and twelve minutes later--
Ranma was in the dojo doing standard kata, while a bowling-ball sized ki construct hovered above his head continually assumed new, detailed geometric shapes. Since the construct was invisible, adding to the difficulty level of the exercise, Ranma easily avoided awkward questions.
Walking into her family's training area, Nabiki appreciated the vibes of power radiating outward. She waited for the right moment, until Ranma was balanced on his left toe with his right leg vertically in front of his body.
"So does Akane know you're destined to bear an unscrupulous man's cursed female child yet?"
Appreciating the show when a suddenly visible beveled ki-cone fell downward onto Ranma's head, violently introducing his face to the wooden dojo floor, Nabiki's eyes twinkled. She loved it when supplicants bowed down before her.
"What!!" Rebounding to his feet, Ranma appeared suddenly in front of his unwelcome interruption and noticed her outstretched hand.
Grumbling, he fetched his hidden stash and put 2000 yen into the hand.
"Acceptable. I won't tell Akane. However there's still Kuno, Kodachi, Daddy, Ukyo, Shampoo, Cologne -- the list is practically endless!"
Sighing, Ranma put the rest of his money into Nabiki's hand and said in a defeated tone of voice: "This buys silence until noon tomorrow, and includes an explanation of how you know."
Pondering silently, Nabiki observed her pigeon's attempted deceit. She could tell he was very agitated and almost happy over her discovery. But 30,000 yen beckoned....
"Agreed." Promptly producing a phonebook, Nabiki opened it and pointed to a number right beside the katakana heading 'Martial Arts Genealogy.' It was between the listings for 'Martial Arts Floristry' and 'Martial Arts Golfing.' A bilingual observer might consider this a remarkable coincidence, but like most Japanese high school graduates, Ranma had never gotten beyond a fourth grader's reading (or speaking) English comprehension level.
Further examining the phonebook, Ranma was amazed at branches of martial arts listed. It could take a couple years to learn all of them! Why had he never looked here?
'Maybe being away from civilization while learning the Art had an opportunity cost of it's own?' In his mind's eye Ranma beheld a male chibi-version of himself meditating wisely in an elaborate zen sand garden. 'Or maybe in some ways I'm still an uneducated hick!' yelled a wandering chibi-Ranma-chan (dressed as a professor) who disrupted the peaceful tranquility as she employed a phonebook as a bludgeon, dissolving the daydream.
Shaking the cobwebs away, Ranma left the dojo expecting to make a quick call. Noticing Nabiki sitting with a toll sign near the Tendo phone, he paused. Opening the phonebook, he memorized the address near the number and left.
-
Strip mall. Seedy neighborhood. Visible garbage littering the street outside (highly unusual in Japan). He located the address, badly spray painted in white on the inside of a cracked plate glass window, and walked inside the only Martial Arts Genealogy business in the phone book.
"Hello sir, what brings you to our offices on such a fine day?"
Grey carpets, tweed furniture, and florescent lights. A huge cluttered mess of papers sat on a desk in the back. A young woman with a remarkably clean work area in front of her stood, after offering the greeting. Observing the perky, attractive green-haired receptionist for ten seconds, he mentally groaned.
She wore a stunning green blouse with matching loop earrings and heels. The slit white skirt wondrously demonstrated high fashion in offsetting her legs. Her medium sized cleavage was somehow exaggerated with padding, but the mechanics were unclear. Thanks to past challenges and circumstances, Ranma recognized cross dressers almost instantly.
"I'm here to research an ancestral family curse, but I'd also like to know exactly how it's possible to do Martial Arts -Genealogy- ?"
"Ah, it sounds like you do indeed need our special services." The receptionist looked pleased at the prospect of a client. "If it is not possible for our trained staff to research your ancestry using the traditional government documentation, we call forth spirits of the past. The 'Martial Arts' part is for when they don't cooperate."
"I might need additional consultation, but for now I'm here for the file on the Saotomes requested by Nabiki Tendo over the phone earlier."
"You don't look much like a woman, and Ms. Tendo instructed us not to release that information without her written consent." The receptionist's voice sounded colder. "I'll prepare tea while you ponder this dilemma."
Following the traditions of the tea ceremony, both enjoyed their beverage in silence, and afterwards, business discussion re-opened.
"You see," said Ranma boldly, triggering his curse, "I really am Nabiki Tendo, and I'm here to pick up the information I called in earlier."
Not even blinking, the receptionist nodded in a business-like manner. "Not a problem Miss Tendo, if you'll sign this blank sheet of paper, I'll verify your signature against the one you faxed to us, and you can be on your way."
"Oh you misunderstand!" Bubbled Ranma-chan in her sickly sweet voice, "I'm just here to examine and make sure everything is in order, tee-hee!"
The receptionist looked uncomfortable. "Very well, as per the earlier request of Nabiki Tendo, here is the appropriate folder."
Greedily, Ranma tore open the manila envelope. Inside was a picture of Nabiki posing with a victory sign in a sexy looking swimsuit. The photo had a written message on it: 'The price went up 10,000 yen!' Next to it was a picture of Ranma-chan with the caption 'Beware of stupid impersonations from this person.'
In righteous outrage, she exclaimed: "My impersonations are not stupid!"
"Whatever you say hon. I do know a way to get unlimited access 'inside our files.' " The receptionist extended a hand onto Ranma's inner thigh while delivering the sultry invitation.
"Ah, no, that's okay really!"
The door to the office closed slammed slut ( author's Freudian Slip) as a red-headed whirlwind vacated the premises.
"Wow. That Tendo woman is amazing!" The receptionist's face lit up in worship. "When she comes in again, I'll offer an internship!"
----
Same strip mall. Same seedy neighborhood. Same tacky décor.
"Hello sir, what brings you to our offices on such a fine day?"
And the receptionist was still a cross-dresser. He looked like a glamorous woman, but Ranma could tell.
"A consultation on my ancestral family curse; I've got 400,000 yen!" Stealing Nabiki's emergency fund made for good revenge, even if she'd never know.
Looking at the completely blank calendar, the receptionist said sweetly "Well, you don't have an appointment, but we can certainly fit you in." Then 'she' called out "Oi! Yusaku! Yusaku!"
No response from the back area was forthcoming.
Taking a deep breath, the receptionist shrieked: "Yu-kun if don't come greet our -paying- client this instant, I'll personally go back there and set fire to that stupid book!"
A short, thin man with non-matching socks hobbled out of a cubbyhole in the back. His balding head glinted in the florescent light, lending him as much dignity as any nerd-like educational figure was allowed.
Surprisingly, he didn't wear glasses or have any beard to offset his ordinary-looking face.
Ranma immediately recognized the aura of a powerful martial artist, and wondered how much of the exhibited behavior was a facade.
Producing what looked like a round eye monocle from an inner pocket, Yusaku approached while waving it around. It promptly turned black, with purple highlights.
Looking at Ranma, he queried hesitantly, "You know you're possessed by a demon, right?"
Shaking his head back and forth, Ranma indicated this was news to him.
"According to my crystal, it's a type of psyche drinker, currently residing inside a hole in your aura around your sex drive. I can't wait to hear about this one."
Ugh. . . . he'd thought that little foundling of Kodachi's demon was eliminated. Even worse – the story was embarrassing.
"Well now that we've seen through your nefarious disguise, aren't you going to change into a tacky female caricature and attack us with a corny, slut-like martial art?" Yusaku rolled his eyes at his companion's impolite directness.
Looking at the two genealogists, Ranma asked in a sympathetic voice, "You get that a lot?"
The receptionist nodded.
Ranma motioned her closer.
She approached hesitantly.
Moving his head near her earlobe, he shouted as loud as he possibly could, "NO!"
The receptionist fell over, hands splayed in the traditional gesture of warding.
Returning to a debonair posture, Ranma spoke solemnly "Now for my story."
"Wait!" Yusaku stopped him. "Hold on for four minutes, would you?"
Mystified, Ranma watched as the less-than dignified looking man retreated into his cubby. He heard rustling noises, followed by a shrill beeping sound three minutes later.
Returning with a bag of microwave popcorn and an opened chocolate bar, Yusaku stole the receptionist's comfortable looking seat and proceeded to wave the candy in front of her face. Her teeth latched on like a starving marmoset and proceeded gnawing.
Yusaku nodded for the tale to begin, popping a kernel into his mouth.
Observing the twitching faux-girl, Ranma looked skeptical, but began.
-
"So let me get this straight," Yusaku paused while considering a summation, "you have a hole in aura around your sex drive because an Amazon tried to kill you, but you've left it alone because a half dozen women are throwing themselves at you, none of which you're sure you want to marry?"
Ranma nodded, and Yusaku burst out laughing. 'Knew this was gonna be embarrassing.' He thought darkly.
The receptionist, woozy with a chocolate fix, added: "And you got the demon from a devil huntress who happened to be possessed by it? Like demons are communicable diseases? Don't you know anything about supernatural containment?!" With amazed disbelief, she continued: "Wow, I've never met an idiot of such high caliber!"
Getting into the swing of things, Yusaku wheezed in between tears of amusement, "Plus he was stupid enough to visit Jusenkyo with two, Two! Family curses like that. Any apprentice magician would tell you to stay away from similar reservoirs with those two curses! Wa hah haha!"
Sobering for a second, the receptionist added sympathetically, "I'd just undo that little hole in a Shinto temple and let the monks take care of the demon and a girl do the rest. It's not like those pent up passions would explode as violently the next morning, eh?" The cross dresser winked while suggestively sliding her tongue across her lips.
Watching the genealogists burst into fresh sniggering, Ranma experienced annoyed irony. His ever-repeating day started out with a physical reset, meaning Shampoo's old Xi Fa Xiang Gao Shiatsu suppressed his (denied for a year) sex drive daily. He'd found it too hard to control with said limitation released, so had made the decision to leave well enough alone.
Pulling out 100,000 yen, Ranma waved it carelessly, causing the receptionist to morph into a business professional. He placed the money on her desk with a demand, "I want to know everything about my family curses. Now!"
Noted the client's obvious displeasure, the office girl acted. With a well-placed elbow to his head, Yusaku switched to lecture mode: "Ah, the first curse is from your father, and is pretty obvious. The standard 'live in interesting times' curse, usually from a witch or miko who got her panties in a bunch. Your Dad must've done something particularly nasty, since those normally aren't inherited."
Darkly thinking of a Happosai-based visitation, Ranma had a pretty good suspicion of what had riled the priestess' undergarments, and who had been sacrificed to take the blame.
"The second is harder to pinpoint; with that demon on you, all I can say is it only affects female descendents. You wouldn't have had to worry if you'd skipped Jusenkyo. Come back when you're cleansed for specifics."
Politely thanking the aggravating duo, Ranma attempted an exit.
Circumstance interfered as both Genealogists lunged for the money on the desk, sending the teakettle into the air. It spun end over end, releasing tepid water, cold enough to activate a curse. Down came the liquid, dousing an already aggravated Ranma, who growled and inadvertently put out a low-grade battle aura. The indignity!
Noticing the emanation, the receptionist crowed in vindication, "See, see, Yu-kun! I told you she was a demon-possessed martial artist bent on stealing your aura crystal with a smutty martial art! I'll bet the name of her school is something like 'Slippery Fish Kendo' or even 'Anything Goes!'
Pausing at the verge of violence, Ranma listened to Yusaku explain Jusenkyo to someone who'd never personally experienced it. With a vein twitching on her forehead, she departed.
Payback was best performed on unsuspecting targets.
----
The train ride to Kyoto left him time to brood, and Ranma felt despondency at his immediate plan.
"Airen, no worries. This go really smooth, trust Shampoo!" His Amazon friend was dressed in a purple cheongsam with matching hair ornaments.
Looking at the girl he had picked for 'later' Ranma couldn't help thinking this entire trip was a huge mistake. But were those sentiments his judgment, or a demon's attempt at self-preservation?
Finally they arrived, and forcing himself into the Fushimiinari Shrine felt like struggling through molasses.
Looking up at the well-tended bushes on both sides of a huge multi-tiered stone stairway, he tried calling forth zazen. As before, his ki didn't respond. 'Ranma Saotome doesn't lose.' This self-affirmation motivated him up 108 steps and across five tiers of gardens to the shrine proper, passing under the symbolic torii. Shampoo waved from the top, with thumbs up.
This meant a Brother had examined the message Cologne sent ahead, and the ceremony was on. Doing his best, he trudged upwards, examining the smooth stones trod by countless visitors. Each step felt like another boulder on his back.
The weight wasn't real; he should have jumped or even flown into Fushimiinari. The malevolent force unbalancing his psyche would soon get its metaphysical ass kicked! Through his burdens, Ranma smiled, and then winced at his rebellion's result. More weight.
A half hour later, he climbed the last stair. The monks indeed validated their reputation; Ranma felt the glowing auras of at least sixteen spiritual masters. Of one the lesser brothers motioned them to a small cleansing spring, and both bearers of Jusenkyo's touch exercised great care.
One of Ranma's arms slipped, almost of its own accord, and a red-headed girl grimaced.
Ignoring this act of minor shape shifting, a Brother led them into a comfortable reliquary for the exorcism. More accurately, Shampoo dragged Ranma along, thanks to a loving death grip on an arm. (The dry one.)
They entered, finding elaborate chalk geometries on the floor, and three monks with powerful auras in lotus-style tranquil meditation.
"Step in the center of this room and release the hole." Their guide sounded serene, like ho-hum, just another sanity drinker, no big deal.
Ranma took the indicated position, but found her hands wouldn't obey when she tried to manipulate the necessary pressure points. "Shampoo: the back up!" Gasped the struggling girl.
With an expert touch, the Amazon was there, using Xi Fa Xiang Gao Shiatsu formula three-three-seven. Five seconds later, the world disappeared.
Inside a dreamscape of darkness, Ranma summoned white serenity and returned male. He blinked at the three orbiting Buddha's surrounding his head, squatting in repose. The red one frowned, another translucent Buddha looked constipated, and the last, wavering in purple, was there and not there simultaneously.
He cracked his spiritual knuckles and smirked.
"Lead me from the unreal to the real!" Shouted the purple Buddha, disappearing and taking the world along.
Contentment, security, love. These feeling bombarded Ranma's psyche as he put down the morning paper. His loving wife, Shampoo snuggled closer to him on his lap, cooing "Airen, Airen!" Blinking, Ranma realized neither of them wore underwear beneath their comfortable robes. As Shampoo's hips gyrated against his, he thought 'That can't be right, I swore never to marry an Amazon.'
Pulling away from her husband, Akane smiled at him, and his heart lifted at seeing the tomboy who could understand him, but not trust him. Oddly enough, she wore the same clothing as Shampoo, unselfconsciously too. "Honey, I fixed your favorite today!" gushed his wife.
Stomach clenching with bad memories, he turned his head away, and when a plate of Okonomiyaki slid in front of him, he smiled back at Ukyo. His cute wife began gushing over the coming day, and Ranma began to wonder when did Ucchan get so submissive?
Kodachi's laugh jarred him as his wife whipped a ribbon around him, dragging him outside. Momentarily dizzy, Ranma began to wonder what was going on. Then a feeling of overwhelming acceptance destroyed whatever doubts he harbored, as he remembered.
With the successful completion of his infinite day, he'd found a spell for the ideal wife and invoked it! Whenever his wife deviated from perfection, another aspect of her wondrous charm flowed into dominance. Truly this was the final paradise for a man torn between loves!
"Shut your mouth, close your lips, and say something!" Whispered an invisible Buddha.
Looking at his wife in the limo beside him, who flickered between Kasumi and Nabiki as he mentally flipped between needing comfort and unbiased advice, Ranma clenched his metaphysical jaw shut and summoned a grayish, agitated ki. With a loud "Kiyaah!" the world ripped asunder.
Shuddering on a darkened neutral dreamscape, Ranma reflected the sanity drinker had learned from their last encounter. The feelings associated with such a fantasy preyed intensely on his inability to choose a wife. Rejecting a false paradise tailored for your specific heart was hard. Obviously his worst weakness had been exposed; no mere ruse like that would fool him again!
"Lead me from darkness to light!" Sang the translucent Buddha in a husky vibrato. The endless dark faded into gradually emerging patterns.
Functions. Shapes. The secrets of the universe. A dance of fractals dazzled Ranma's mind as he began to truly understand. Why this was raising Kissing the Face of Life to the next dimension– the ultimate ki attack or defense! Hypnotized by the weaves of spirit in front of him, Ranma felt himself at the brink of awesome revelation. Time ceased to hold meaning; he'd take forever and a day for this pinnacle of the Art. As he gathered himself for a mental leap inside the intricacies of technique, a translucent Buddha appeared beside him.
Wisely, it intoned in the music of the spheres: "Do not take the Buddha for the Ultimate. As I look at him, he is still the hole in the privy."
Shocked out of his contemplation by such desecration, he struck at the translucent Buddha with a dangerous golden beam of ki made of fanatic devotion. Like those relying on violence for enlightenment, Ranma destroyed what he held dearly.
Passing right through the hovering little prophet, the attack shook the incomprehensible spiritual weave to its foundation. The representation of the infinite, symbolizing the final, conclusive answers, slowly dissolved into black nothingness.
The neutral dreamscape returned, and the scowling red Buddha remained. Shaking his fist at the little man, Ranma raged "Why! I close! I almost understood!"
That technique; he'd been searching for it all his life.
"Lead me from death to immortality!" The red Buddha sounded furious.
Dreamscapes whipped by him; traps avoided, snares laid bare. He saw the demon in his mind, the creature responsible for his suffering. It was hundreds of feet tall. He gathered power, gathered will.
"Sharp Edge of Nirvana!" Streamers of emotions foreign, intimate, and repulsive assaulted the creature. Balls of crushing will drove holes in its amorphous shape. Cubes and cones of rage exploded alongside it. Flashes of hatred ripped at its blackness. Wisps of acceptance dissolved trailing streamers. Reaching for his heart, Ranma poured his being into the attack.
Ponderously, the entity collected itself. Condensing under the onslaught, it assumed a new shape. Pausing momentarily, Ranma looked back into his own eyes.
Musubetsu Kakuto Ryu met the clumsy charge of something that didn't even seem human. With satisfaction, he grappled with, and swiftly snapped the neck of his doppelganger.
In a flash the false representation of himself reformed, imitating his own attack back at him. Avoiding the grapple, and falling backwards, he used his legs in a scissor-like grab to dislocate the demon-clone's right knee. Darting in as it struggled upright, he came down with a hard heel to its forehead, crushing the skull.
With another flash, it reformed. Catching on, this time Ranma merely crippled his adversary by ruining the tendons required for movement with precision knife-hands. The manifestation flopped towards him still, a mindless attacker with his face.
"On meeting the Buddha, slay the Buddha!" Yelled the red Buddha heatedly, and Ranma noticed blood dripping off the statue's robes.
Who was he to argue? An invisible ki-knife, a hybrid of vacuum and triumph, hit the statue in the chest, shattering it.
"Not me you nit!" Called back the red Buddha as it crumbled into pieces and vanished.
Pacing around the creature with his face, staying out of biting distance, Ranma pondered his current situation. Obviously this trap required some strange key, likely a behavior abhorrent to him.
Absently changing gender, she noticed her double also became female. Still pathetically disabled, though.
"Ranma Saotome doesn't give up!" She shouted into the gray flat plane their battlefield had become. No response answered her defiance.
Summoning enlightened serenity, with a running start she flew across the featureless gray, seeking the real opponent. For hours she traveled, determination never wavering. Finally, Ranma set down, ready for battle, but also aware of the futility of energy waste.
Her completely healed clone snarled from a few feet away, and she knew this trap contained only the false representation and herself. Damn delaying tactic! Though time flowed differently inside her own mind.
"On meeting the Buddha, slay the Buddha." She repeated it with a placid voice, still embracing oneness. Calmly, she crushed the trachea of the attacking copy. If anything, she was the enlightened one here!
Suddenly the serene mindset dropped away, as the answer presented itself. Taunting her with a decoy; the demon surely knew her too well. Kicking the asphyxiating clone into the gray stratosphere, Ranma's conclusions continued. These traps -- traumatic and much more skillful than their first clash. An unbidden thought rose: 'Without the monks' prodding, I'd be a prisoner in my own mind.'
"If I can't win, the best you're getting is a draw!" The angry taunt into the gray void produced no response.
"Here goes everything," said Ranma softly, regretfully, after waiting for an answer.
She called her ki, feeling emotions swirl across her mind. First she built anger, followed by self-confidence. Holding both dearly, she switched into serenity while grasping the cores of the first two, hot and cold pinpricks on the edges of her consciousness.
She gathered ambient ki, forcing everything through her filters, building a variation of the Hi Ryu Shoten Ha stronger than Armageddon itself. After an unknown time, Ranma could hold no more power safely.
Recklessly charging ahead, Ranma whispered in the beautiful voice of a person at peace, "Musubetsu Kakuto Ryu Final Technique: I Am The Buddha!" Then, smiling, she raised her fist in an invincible uppercut.
And as the released energies overwhelmed her, she felt a darkness torn from her mind.
--
Groaning, Ranma slowly became aware. Whatever her head rested on sure was soft. She opened her eyes, and saw the domed ceiling of the reliquary, where the ceremony should have taken place. Varying her field of vision, she saw two large purple mounds around the top of her view.
"Are you feeling better now my love?" Asked Shampoo with concern in Mandarin.
Recognizing exactly where her lead lay, Ranma sat up from her intimate position on Shampoo's lap.
"Well enough," Responded Ranma in the same language.
Flipping to her feet, Ranma moved to leave the room, but not before Shampoo grasped her hand.
Upon exit, an older monk, who radiated authority, halted them.
"Saotome-san, you were very lucky. The ritual was successful, but at great cost. Two of our brotherhood perished during the ceremony; please tell me how you encountered this creature!" The monk bowed low with his last request. The rising moon glowed in the background.
Ranma explained the strange circumstances regarding his possession, including the repetitious day.
When the story finished, the venerable monk broke into a smile. "That's wonderful news then!"
Ranma and Shampoo both looked puzzled.
"Ah, I forget not everyone understands Demons like our order. They do not exist in time as we understand it; instead they exist in memories and space. If you provide a way for such a creature to travel, it can inhabit you in dreams and across the reaches of time. Why it even followed you into this demi-existance. Since this day truly did not happen, our brothers still live!"
"Does this mean nothing I do can cleanse Kodachi?"
Shaking his head sadly, the elder sighed. "Since she begins your 'day' possessed, nothing you can do will free the girl permanently during these repeats. The demon inside her though, will gain no advantage from this. Come back on another of your 'days' and ask Brother Ichiro for training. If this young woman is important to you, then removing her demon safely is something you should learn."
Not wanting to relive this ordeal, already fading into a half-remembered nightmare, Ranma nodded. Silently she vowed never again to inherit a daily Demon from carelessness.
Leaving the shrine together, they soon arrived at their final destination: a cheap hotel. The Amazon was insistent they consummate the deal, even if she wouldn't remember tomorrow. Her Airen would know, and that was enough for Shampoo, explained the girl while they walked to their room. Wondering at this price, and at who was using who, they fell onto the bed sheets together.
---
Much later, the purple haired girl whispered, "I love you, Ranma."
As his companion slipped into slumber, Ranma thought the tangle of Amazon Law wasn't something he'd inherited from his father's stupidity. He didn't have to jump on the challenge log, whatever the old man had said.
Shampoo's heart was a problem he'd created himself. Was it fair to merely abandon her?
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next: "Curses and Kamis"
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Author's Notes:
--Quotes used by the Fushiminarii monks provided by the 2000 "Little Zen Calendar." Specifically they come from the Upanishads, and the scholars Lin-Chi and Pai-Chang.
-- (-san) is a gesture of formal respect. Chibi means small, commonly used to refer to funny deformed caricatures popular in some animes.