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Chpt 7

"You cannot be the man who marries Shampoo," Cologne said firmly. Mousse glared at her, digging his fingernails into his knees as he did so. He would not, could not, attack a village elder. That was death.

"So that big stupid lummox YOU want her to marry is a great choice!" he shouted. Cologne's eyes narrowed dangerously. Mousse sat on the dirt floor of his little hut, his knees carefully folded under him, his head bowed to show respect. Only his eyes, glaring up at her from his seemingly subserviant position, betrayed his feelings. The boy had spent too much time in Japan. He was forgetting the natural place of a male.

"Shampoo is holding her tribe back, none of her younger sisters can marry until she does. It is necessary," she stated flatly. There are no moon-beams in the real world, sonny, get over her, she thought.

"So WHY can't the groom be me!" Mousse shouted, losing a bit of his control. Cologne hit him over the head, almost as an afterhtought. A male may never raise his voice to an elder.

"Because you are not strong enough to be her husband!" Cologne snapped.

"I can prove my worth," he claimed, his voice low and dangerous. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"There is nothing you can do to . . ."

"I can take the Mizuki challenge," he said. Cologne shook her head. She saw his eyes dart to the wall behind her, where all of his weapons lay in a neat pile. There were quite a few scrolls there, as well. So the boy had been practicing. Good for him. Why should she care?

"The Mizuki challenge has to take place at Jusenkyo. That place is too dangerous now, it is flooded and who knows how mixed curses behave! You could be obliterated, you could be forced into some monstrous form and stuck in it!"

"Or I could be cured completely. It doesn't matter. I'd rather die than have to live knowing that idiot you chose sleeps in Shampoo's bed," he said, bravely, his voice deathly serious. Cologne regarded him for a moment, then sighed.

"All right. Since you are so persistant, you can take the Mizuki challenge. Good luck finding someone to fight you over the cursed springs," she said. The Mizuki challenge was famous in her tribe. It was a classic way for men to prove their worth, a fight to the death over the cursed waters of Jusenkyo. She didn't think Mousse had murder in him, but then, maybe his plan was to be the loser. Maybe that was the way he'd chosen to die.

Either way, she really wished she could take them all back to Japan, back to the days of carefree laughter and mind games. . .

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Mousse snarled as the skies opened and rain began to pour down on Jusenkyo. The cold, hard droplets hit his head, his shoulders, and he could feel himself begin to change. Just as his body began to twist, his challenger lunged at him. The man Cologne had chosen to marry Shampoo was big, and strong, and good at battle tactics. On the other hand, he apparently didn't know about Mousse's curse. Which gave Mousse a definite advantage.

By the time Shampoo's groom to be got to him, he was already a duck. He flew down below the pole, quacking triumphantly as the big lummox lost his balance, began to fall. . . and grabbed Mousse's wing on the way down.

In moments, the prospective groom was knocked out of the running. He was lying very still in the mixed, cursed waters of Jusenkyo, a tiny dog with his temple crushed in. He was dead. Mousse, who was lying beside him in the dimpling, rippling water, had won. On the other hand, now he was a monster.

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"Passionate Amazons," Mousse said mockingly, almost hissing under his breath. Fifteen days had passed since he'd left Japan for China, and he'd thought he'd never see these cursed islands again. Yet, here he was, back in Japan, chasing down the same stupid people for the same stupid reasons.

Three days had passed since he'd last seen Shampoo. After the fight, she'd come to him, an unwilling bride but a bride nonetheless. They had been married as soon as he'd changed out of his monstrous form, back into a man. Now, her sisters were free to marry. They were free to have more daughters for the tribe.

It was only a marriage in name, however. She refused to look at him, refused to speak with him, and certainly refused to acknowledge his rights as a husband. All she did all day was cry and train and cook, cry and train and cook. When he'd finally asked just what she wanted him to do to prove his love, she'd smiled THAT smile. The snide smile. The smile that frightened him the most.

Defeat Ranma, she'd said. And make Akane bleed for what she did to me.

So, unable to think of what else to do, he'd hopped on the next plane to Japan. It was a tiny plane, a cargo plane, and it was only going as far as the near coast of Japan. So here he was, on this stupid rocky excuse for a beach, wondering how in hell he'd get to Tokyo. He could walk, certainly. And it looked like he would have to. He didn't have much Japanese yen left.

A young woman, sitting on a rock, letting the spray hit her, was getting slowly closer to him. He thought she looked terribly familiar. He quickened his pace, and as she got closer he smiled a tiny, triumphant smile. Akane Tendo. Or rather, Akane Saotome. Ranma's little wife, all out on the rocks alone. . . it was perfect. He absolutely couldn't believe his luck.

"Akane?" he asked, almost afraid he was wrong. She looked up at him, surprise covering her delicate features. He remembered back in Saffron's cave. . . but he had Shampoo. He had the woman he'd always wanted. All he had to do now was convince her she loved him.

"Mousse? What are you doing in Japan?" she asked. He got closer to her as she stood.

"I'm looking for Ranma, actually. Is he around here?" Mousse asked, smiling nervously. She nodded, frowning.

"Yes, he's in our room," she said, gesturing toward an open window in the building behind her, "but why would you want to fight him? Surely Shampoo doesn't still insist you beat him!" she said. He was so close now, he could see the pressure point. . . he was within an arms reach. .

"Forgive me, Akane," he said, his hand striking at a point at the base of her skull. She crumpled, and he caught her, avoiding the cold, salty ocean spray. Everyone falls victim to Cologne's famous pressure point. . .He had almost three hours until she would awake again. By that time, he fully planned to have laid a trap for Ranma.

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Hours later, having spent most of the day looking underwater for Akane's body, Ranma was sitting in the kitchen of the hotel. The old man had wrapped a blanket around him, and put a cup of hot tea down in front of him. Ranma hadn't really noticed. He was just staring out into space, clutching the scarf in his hand. He'd thought she was dead once before, and it was just too cruel of fate to do this to him again. . .

"You ain't helping her none sitting here," the old man said, pushing the cup pf hot tea closer. Ranma curled deeper into himself. Akane was way beyond his help. His eyes traced the pale lines that scarred the old wooden table.

"She can't swim," he said quietly. The old man snorted.

"Wouldn't need to. She ain't drowned, you little fool, she's been taken by the witches that live up the coast. They've a taste for pretty young women. Usually go after the virgins, though," he said speculatively. Ranma arose out of his reverie a bit to glare at the old man. Spouting such nonsense at a time like this. . .

"Shut up and leave me alone," he snarled. The old man narrowed his eyes.

"You're a coward, boy. Your wife, your WIFE, damnit, could be out there somewhere and you're just gonna sit here and let heaven-only-knows- what happen to her. You're willing to give up all hope just because you found a stinking scarf! You didn't even find a body!" he shouted.

"I am no coward!" Ranma retorted. A small worm of hope had taken root in his heart. It was true, he hadn't found a body. And if what the old man said was true, if it wasn't too late. . .

"Where would she be?" he asked, still glowering at the old caretaker.

"North along the coast two miles. There's an old house, couple of old women live there. They like to drink the blood of pretty young women, it increases their magic powers. They seem real nice, but don't let them fool you. They're witches," he said, nodding sagely. Ranma took a deep, bracing breath. Stranger things had happened. . . . who was he to say that witches don't exist? If giant koalas, sex-changing freaks and martial arts cheerleading existed, why not witches?

"I suppose I'll be going, then," Ranma announced, standing up. The blanket fell from his shoulders as he ran out the kitchen door.

"Hey! It's too cold to run around in wet clothes!" the old caretaker shouted after him.

Ranma ran along the rocky beach. Two miles, the old man had said, only two miles. She might be alive, she might be in the house that was two miles north along the shore. He ran on. Lights emerged in the distance, out of the falling dusk. The house! He ran faster, faster, until he reached the white-washed front steps, until he reached the faded front door. He pounded on it, splintering the wood.

"Open up!" he cried, long past courtesy. Lights came on all over the house, and the door swung open. An old woman, her head covered in tight white curls, opened the door. She glared up at him with fiery gray eyes.

"What the hell is your problem?" she snapped. He looked down at her, somewhat speechless. Now that he was actually here, staring at a real person, he had no idea what to say.

"I'm, ah, looking for my . . . wife," he said at long last. The old woman didn't look like a witch. . . and really, compared to Happosai and Cologne she was a teenager.

"And what makes you think I know where she is?" the old woman glared at him.

"The old man who takes care of the hotel. . . "

"Told you I was a witch, eh? Let me guess, I stole her to bathe in her blood and make myself young again?" the old woman said, her voice full of scorn. The little worm of hope in Ranma's heart began to die again. There was still the body, though. He hadn't been able to find a body, and the current wasn't strong enough to have carried it very far. . . at least, not when he'd first started searching.

"Not exactly. More along the lines of drinking her blood than bathing in it," he said, reflecting that it really did sound very silly out loud. He was about to turn around and leave, but he could just hear Akane's voice in his head, calling him a quitter. "Why would he say something like that?" he asked, somewhat embarrassed he'd believed the tale.

"My husband and I have a few key issues we disagree on," the old woman said primly. Ranma's jaw dropped.

"Your husband?" he asked, remembering the old caretaker.

"Oh, yes. Old Miraku and I have been married for forty years. Of course, we haven't lived under the same roof for the last thirty of those years. He's a bloody idiot, that's what he is," she snarled. "Miraku and I had a lot of suitors, between us we had half our village trying to drag one of us to the altar. But we had an arranged marriage, you see. We got married to appease our parents. Of course, I loved him when we got married, and he loved me. But we kept fighting all the time. . ." she waved her hand in dismissal, as if none of that mattered anymore.

"Is that why he said you were a witch?" Ranma asked. There were a lot of uncomfortable parallels to his own life in the old woman's story . . .

"Heavens, no. He said I was a witch because I can tell the future. He calls my sister that too, but all she can do is find things," the old woman said. Ranma felt an idea explode in his mind with all the violence of the crashing ocean.

"Could she find Akane?" Ranma asked, grabbing the old woman by the shoulders. She fixed him with a stare so cold and harsh that he let go.

"Perhaps. Why don't you come on in and ask her?" she said coolly. She stood aside to let him in. "Kaya! Someone wants to see you."

Another old woman, identical to Miraku's wife except for the long, thick white braid hanging down her back, emerged from a door to Ranma's left. The front door closed behind him.

"This young man here seems to have misplaced a wife," Miraku's wife said, patting him on the shoulder. Kaya snorted.

"Men," she said, the one word full of venom. She looked Ranma up and down, from his bare feet (he'd lost the shoes in the ocean) to his sopping head. "Well, come on then. Can't very well find her without my pools," she announced. Before he could question that, Ranma was led back into the room on the left.

Inside, the light from a few dozen candles illuminated a room full of water. It collected in pools, flowing down slowly from the far end of the room. The entire floor was covered with an enormous fountain, where the water dripped from one stone ring into another. In between the stone rings there were broad, flat stones arranged so one could sit or stand among the pools. It all smelt of brine, everything was sea water.

"What is this place?" Ranma asked, his voice full of wonder. Kaya snorted derisively.

"I should think it obvious. This is the reason Miraku gave for leaving my sister," Kaya announced, "This is the Room of Pools. We can see things in the water. This is where my sister sees the future, it is where I find what is lost. Follow," she barked, stepping lightly onto the closest stepping stone. Ranma obeyed, following her until they reached what he thought was a rather ordinary stone circle. Kaya peered intently into the water. All Ranma could see were lights and shadows from the candles in the wall sconces, but she kept muttering to herself. At long last she looked up at him, her pupils strangely dilated, a look of fury on her face.

"You little shit, you don't have a wife!" she cried. He held up his hands, grimacing. Perhaps the old women weren't kooks?

"No, no, we're pretending to be married so our families will get off our backs. And. . all my other fiancés. Akane and I are engaged, we aren't married," he said. Kaya was glaring at him so hard he thought his hair was going to catch fire.

"You lied to me," she snarled.

"I've been lying to everybody. That isn't important now! Can you help me find her or not!" he shouted. Kaya growled at him. She turned away, looking back into the water.

"No, I can't. I've never met her, there's no blood ties between you, and no oaths. I cannot trace anything from you to her without one of those three things. Sorry," she muttered.

"Some witch you are!" Ranma cried. He looked down into the water, feeling despair welling up again. A cool hand touched his arm, and he looked up. Kaya was staring at him intently.

"Have you ever risked your life for her?" she asked.

"Yeah, a lot, not that she's grateful or nothin'," he muttered.

"And has she risked hers for you?" Kaya continued. Ranma thought of Saffron's cave.

"Yes," he said, eyeing the old woman suspiciously. Kaya took a deep breath.

"And do you love her? Do you ache to be with her right now?" she asked. Ranma glared at her.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" he asked, beginning to get angry now.

"I might be able to do something, but it is dependent upon you loving each other," she snarled, smacking the back of his head. The touch was gentle compared to Akane's. "I wouldn't be able to give an exact location, but I could give you a general idea of how she was, who she's with, that sort of thing. But it won't work unless you both are aching to be with each other. That's all I've got to trace, so freaking take it or leave it!" the old woman snapped. Ranma glowered at her for a minute.

"Well, shit," he said at long last. Kaya nodded.

"Yeeeess. Shit. So are you taking or leaving?" she asked. Ranma looked down at the old woman speculatively. If she could find Akane. . . that was the top priority, the main idea. He couldn't do anything else before she was found, because everything from sleeping to going home depended on him knowing where she was. If she was alive at all.

"Now I'm warning you, this might not work. If she doesn't happen to be thinking of you right now, or if she's angry with you . . . and if it does work, it's going to be quite a shock. Sometimes people's hearts stop, which is why I asked about you two risking your lives for each other," Kaya explained. Ranma nodded. ::I'm young, my heart is nowhere near as likely to stop as this old lady's,:: he thought.

"Okay, then," Kaya sighed. She put one hand on Ranma's chest and extended the other one towards the pool of water. "Yearn for her. Think about her, think about holding her in your arms again. Yearn for that," Kaya instructed. Ranma closed his eyes and did his best to do as he was told.

He thought of the only night he'd spent in her bed, he thought of the only kiss she'd given him. Images flashed through his mind of her smiling, of her crying, of the ruined wedding. He could see her angry face, that pretty skin furrowed and marred. And he could smell her, could smell the lavender. He had to see her again, he couldn't live without seeing her, talking to her, fighting with her. She was always with him, always next to him, so what could he do if she wasn't there anymore?

He felt a jolt, as if he'd been hit by lightening, and suddenly he could see her. He could see Akane, her hair messy and her eyes furrowed in anger. She was gagged, and tied down. For a moment he could see through her eyes, see what she could see and feel her heartbeat. . . and then there was a second where his heart felt like it could never get the energy to beat again. . .

He opened his eyes, gasping for breath. Kaya was standing next to him, her hands fallen to her sides, her eyes closed. His mind was full of joy and anger. She was alive! She was alive, so why the bleeding hell had she made him worry so much!

"Kaya! Kaya, are you all right?" he asked, shaking the old woman's shoulders. She shook her head as if to clear it, and gazed up at him with strange, dilated eyes.

"You know, that's never worked quite so well before. Gives me a hell of a headache," she said, smiling faintly. She shook her head again, as if it were coated in cobwebs she couldn't quite get rid of. "Well, did you see anything helpful?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "I know exactly where she is." He'd recognized the room immediately. The only thing that was out of place, aside from his bound fiancé, was the man standing by the door, the man with long black hair and big round glasses.

Mousse was a dead man.

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"What can possibly be taking him so long?" Mousse sighed, exasperated. Akane glared at him from the bed. He'd found a bag of bondage gear in the room she'd pointed out, and it had been most helpful in tying her up. He hadn't expected the bonds to have to last this long. When he'd hopped through the window, the door to the room was just swinging shut. He'd assumed that since Ranma had just left, he would be back shortly. He had assumed Ranma would look in his own blasted hotel room before going anywhere else.

Apparently, he had been wrong. He'd picked Akane up just a few hours after dawn, and now there were stars rising over the ocean. He couldn't wait much longer! He was hungry, damnit!

"If Ranma gets back before I do, let him know I'm looking for him," he said cheerfully to the bound Akane. She just glared at him. He strode over to the open window, and leapt out onto the rocky beach.

If Ranma wasn't going to join the party on his own, Mousse was just going to have to invite him personally.

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"Miraku!" Ranma shouted, hitting the front porch. The old man was still out there, reading again by the dim light of a bug zapper. He looked up as Ranma approached.

"How were the witches?" he asked, casually. Ranma strode up and snatched the newspaper out of his hands.

"Akane has been in our room the entire time! With her kidnapper! Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Ranma snarled. Miraku looked at him in confusion.

"But how could anyone have gotten in? I've been on the porch all day, except when I was fishing your sorry self out of the ocean," Miraku whined. Ranma's eyes widened.

"The window! We left the window open!" he cried, mentally cursing the collective stupidity of everyone within a three mile radius. He ran into the building, racing down to their room. Their room, where Akane lay bound and gagged, and Mousse was waiting for his execution. Miraku followed him at a more leisurely pace.

Ranma hit the door and kept going. It was a western-style door, and the catch hadn't quite caught, so it swung open easily against his shoulder. And there, across from the door, handcuffed to the bed and gagged with a silk scarf, was Akane. Relief filled him, and was quickly chased out by anger.

He strode over to the bed, and ungagged her. She took a shaky breath, then glared up at him.

"What took you so long!" she cried.

"I have been searching for your dead body all day! What were you thinking, going out alone like that! Anything could have happened to you! Shit, something DID happen to you! And all day long, I've been thinking you were dead, worried out of my mind, all because you were too bloody stupid to wake me up before you went out to cheat death! Slippery rocks, Akane! Slippery rocks and a girl who swims about as well as an ostrich do NOT mix well!" he shouted back. They glared at each other for a moment, and that moment is precisely when Miraku arrived in the doorway.

"Oh wow, handcuffs," he said, not terribly helpfully.

"And you could have broken out of these!" Ranma glared, pointing at the handcuffs. Akane glared back.

"Yes, and then what, you freaking idiot? Have Mousse tie me down with something stronger? He hasn't left all day!" she shouted back, her own eyes snapping with anger. Ranma looked around the room.

"Well, he isn't here now! So what were you waiting for, you stupid stubborn. . ."

"YOU! I was waiting for YOU! What took you so blasted long to get to your own hotel room!" she shouted, tears springing into her eyes. A little bit of the anger faded from Ranma's eyes and he stared at her helplessly for a moment. She continued, however, blinking back the tears. "He just left right before you got here. It's the first time he's left me alone all day," she glowered up at Ranma. Behind him, Miraku cleared his throat loudly.

"It's hardly civil to carry on this discussion when the lady is tied to a bed," he said, stepping forward. Ranma turned to glare at him, and Miraku wilted under the weight of that gaze. Slowly, as if in some dream, Ranma retrieved the keys to the handcuffs, laid carelessly down on the windowsill. He freed Akane, and they simply stared at each other for a very long moment. At last, Akane drew a shaky breath and looked away.

"I didn't want to wake you," she said softly. Ranma could feel a helpless, inarticulate rage building up inside him.

"What would make you think I'd rather snore longer and wake up not knowing where the hell you were?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, almost pained. Akane opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. "Where is Mousse now?" he asked, a very, very frightening glint in his eye.

"He. . . went to go find you. Just a moment ago. . . he left through the window," she said, gesturing towards it. Without another word, Ranma leapt out into the night. Akane glared after him for a moment, then began to untie the silk rope wound around her feet. Miraku, slowly, moved to help her. He reached her just as she tossed the rope off to the side, just as they heard Ranma's roar over the waves.

"MOUSSE! Get back here so I can VAPORIZE YOU!"