Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2, Tales of Symphonia, Real Bout High School, Halo, or anything I've referred to that can be proven is owned by someone else. I simply write stories about them for entertainment.

Important note from the author: Ah, it's been a long road, but it's finally done! However, there are a few things you must understand. This story is written with only the first twenty-six Ranma 1/2 graphic novels and the first five Real Bout G. R.s under my belt, so if I write something that conflicts with the G. R.s I haven't read, please tell me where and why, and what I can do to fix it. However, I did finish Tales of Symphonia, so the only thing you need to know is that this story is based on the assumption that you talked to Sheena at Flanoir and Heimdall, meaning Zelos does not die, and Lloyd goes on the journey to collect the Exspheres with Sheena. You may now safely read the story. The rest of this is just my ranting, so read on, or skip ahead to the story.

This story actually started when I was mowing the lawn, and I was thinking about sayings, and I happened to think of "Time heals all wounds," and I thought, what if time got a wound? It just progressed from there. I write differently than most people. Instead of planning out the whole story and fleshing it out, and writing several drafts, I just get ideas, and connect them together. I usually will never reach a block, but run out of energy first. As a result, I stop, and in between I get new ideas, and then I finish up my last thought an connect it to the next somehow. Sometimes, the idea will be a plot twist, an act made by a character, or even just one line. With the way I write, it's as much fun writing the story as it is reading for other people (assuming you like it).

A major problem I ran into was synonyms, especially for the words "group/party" and "beast/monster". So you will likely run across these several times. Please excuse them, and report any spelling or grammar errors to me.

A bad tendency I have is to include any thing I like in my stories, even if I just started learning about it. Example: I started reading Oh My Goddess! partway through writing the story, and immediately I wanted to write in a part with some elements from OMG!. However, I stopped myself, and avoided getting in even more trouble.

Well, that's about it. So, read and review, please, and, uh, enjoy!

Not a Wrinkle But a Tear

There came into existence a saying.

Time heals all wounds.

And thus it seemed.

But now arises the question:

Can Time heal itself?

It does not seem so.

Tokyo, Japan

An unknown time

As he sat in the dark, watching the embers of life slowly fade from the body on the bed, Mortimer felt his hopes dwindle. The young man was nearly dead. Only a week, at most, and the world's last hope would die with his body. There could be only one way to save the lad, and he could not do it alone. Mortimer's pipe sent out a puff of smoke and went out. Again he was reminded of how short a time he had. Rising from his seat and casting the pipe onto its stand on the shelf, Mortimer blew out a breath and looked over at the woman. She sat close to the man and stroked his hand gently. She looked up at him when he stood up. "What are we going to do?" she asked softly, her eyes wrought with worry. "I," said Mortimer, "am going to round up Ranma's friends. They will all have to work together if he is to be saved. And you, Mrs. Akane Saotome," he said, pointing his finger at her, "You are going to stay right here. Your most important job is to watch him. Give him a shot of that medicine if he starts to look worse."

As he opened the door, he remembered something and turned back around. He produced a two-way radio out of the folds of his robe. "I will have this if you need me," he said, and tossed the other one at her. She caught it and turned it on. "Godspeed," she said, and Mortimer left.

Hokkaido

Mortimer stepped off the transport and walked down the street. The days were getting darker. It was twilight all the time. Mortimer drew in his coat around him and fingered his weapon underneath it. Since the coming of the Darkness and Plague, people had become scared, confused, and desperate. There was no telling how someone would act. However, although there was no government, man managed to maintain a way of life, although poor and squalid. It was amazing how much crime had actually decreased. Maybe it was the feeling of impending doom that bound everyone together. Maybe it was the discovery of how everyone was the same. Whatever the case, people knew the end was near for them all, in one way or another, and they gave each other the longest they could have.

But still, that didn't stop some. The Plague had already wiped out a third of the world's population, and more every day, though drastically less than during the initial epidemic. Things had leveled out now, mostly. But, one disturbing aspect was that those who did not die from it went mad, becoming unpredictable and aggressive. You could not tell if one had been affected in this way, and that is what made it so deadly. Ranma had now fallen prey to it, but it was the malignant type, and he could not survive on his own. Only through the combined talents of his friends could he survive.

Mortimer came to the building he was looking for. He knocked on it, and glanced around, surveying the scene as he waited anxiously for a reply. It was not late in coming. "Who there?" came an angry voice. "I come on behalf of Ranma Saotome," replied Mortimer. After a moment of silence there came the sound of deadbolts flying and the door flung open. "You say Ranma?" exclaimed a young woman, her eyes wide with excitement. Mortimer nodded with a smile. "Aiyaa! Come in! Come in!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

Mortimer sipped his tea. "What news you have of Ranma?" asked Shampoo as she refilled his cup. Mortimer frowned. "Not good, I'm afraid," he said. "Ranma is dying." Shampoo set the pot down. "You say dying?!" exclaimed Shampoo. "Yes, I'm afraid so," replied Mortimer. "That is why I have come. There is a way to save him, but I need all of his friends special talents. Shampoo, since the passing of your great-grandmother, I require your knowledge of Chinese medicine and herbal remedies." Shampoo nodded. "We do anything for Ranma," she said firmly. Mousse came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "My wife is right," he said. "We will gladly lend any aid to our dear friend. But I am not sure what I may do for him." Mortimer stood. "Your part will come later," he said. "Ranma will need help even after he fully recovers, for he will have a dangerous mission ahead of him. If he recovers, that is." Mousse slung a pack over his shoulder and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He peered at the old man. "When he recovers," said Mousse.

Akane read an old magazine to pass the time for a while. The date on it felt like last year to her, but the condition of it said last century. The yellowed sheets of paper crinkled and tore when she turned the pages. She read about the war in Iraq, the introduction of a new soft drink called Pepsi Edge, the progress on ISS and space program, and about a movie where aliens fought each other. She had read it many times, and she knew exactly what it would say, and so she finally gave up reading it and set it down. She looked at her husband on the bed. Only a week after the Darkness came, they decided they would have to get married, for fear they might not get the chance later.

Now it seemed he would die after only a few months in wedlock. She stroked his hand again. His eyes fluttered open. "Hey," she said softly, and leaned forward. "How are you feeling?" Ranma made a weak attempt at a smile. "I've had worse," he whispered. "What year is it?" The smile fell from her face. "I-I don't know," she replied. "Nobody knows, Ranma. We have to save you, so you can get things back to normal." Ranma tried the smile again. It half-worked. "You think I could do that?" he asked. "I know you can do that," she said as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "If you say so, then I guess I have to..." He trailed off, and fell back asleep. Akane smiled sadly. He did not look any better than before. But then, at least he didn't look any worse.

Atami

With the travels of but three days, Mortimer had found everybody required to save the life of Ranma. Save one, that is.

Ryoga downed his stiff Scotch and set the glass down. A man slipped into the chair across from him. Ryoga's eyes glanced lazily up from his lap. The man did not speak. "Do I know you?" he said, his speech slightly slurred. "No," said the man. "But I come on the behalf of one you do know." "And who ish that?" asked Ryoga. "Ranma," said Mortimer. Ryoga's inebriation quickly passed. Rivaling emotions struggled for dominance of Ryoga's mind. "What does he want?" Ryoga asked cautiously. "He's dying," said Mortimer. "And if he does not survive, there is no way the world can ever be right again."

"How do you mean?" asked Ryoga. "Time is wounded," replied Mortimer gravely. "We are in the center of that wound, and there is only one who can heal it, and that is Ranma. But he cannot do it alone. He needs first to survive, and then he needs help to accomplish the healing process. He can't do either of those without you, or the others I have gathered." Ryoga thought about the man who had made him the great fighter he was, the man who had stolen his Akane, and the man who had always been there for him when he needed help. But one thing still confused him. "What will happen if he heals time?" asked Ryoga. "The rift was created in the year 2004, around November," said Mortimer. "If Ranma can seal it again, Time will return to normal, and will resume its course, but likely will resume from a slightly earlier point. And, as in a human, a scar will be formed, preventing a similar occurance from happening again." Earlier? thought Ryoga. Then perhaps Akane will be mine! A wave of joy crested over him, but he was careful not to show it.

"Can I have a minute to think?" he said. Mortimer nodded, and Ryoga walked to a back restroom. Oh Akane, you will be mine! thought Ryoga. Another thought struck him. But wait! What about Ranma? He could just see Ranma's indomitable, crushing sadness obliterate his life. Ryoga bit his lip. I was only thinking of me, he realized. How could I think like that? I can't! His shoulders dropped and he sighed, closing his eyes. But, the world....

Yes, the world was in a dire state. He could not ignore its extreme convalescence, nor Ranma's. He had to help him, not for his own desires, but for Ranma, his friend, and for the world. In this way, the fate of the world does not rest only upon him, but upon me, and everyone else this guy had found. He opened his eyes. A wall of resolve made him stand up straight. He clenched his fist. The world is counting on me, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let them down! If nothing else, I'll prove to Akane that I am a man, and not an ungrateful sniveling coward.

He went back to the table and leaned across it. "Count me in," said Ryoga. The man smiled. "Excellent," he said, and they went outside.

"AKS, AKS, do you copy? This MOT. Repeat, this is MOT." Akane grabbed the radio and hit the talk button. "This is AKS," replied Akane. "I read you loud and clear, MOT. Proceed with message. Over." There was a crackle of static, and Mortimer's voice returned. "Take record. RCM complete. Requesting a make-ready. Total is elf. All we had hoped for. ETA two hours. Will meet at portcullis. Wait for signal to open. IMP: RAS is reaching critical stages. Do what you can, but do not leave RAS for more than thirty minutes at a time. There is plenty of XO in the top of the PK, should it be required. Over and out."

Akane wrote it all down: Mortimer had finished his recon mission and had gathered all eleven people he had searched for, and they would be arriving in a couple of hours. He wanted her to prepare for the guests and meet him at the back entrance to the apartment building, and to listen for his ID signal to open the door. Ranma's disease is getting worse, so he should not be left alone for more than one half hour. Ranma's medicine was in the top of the kitchen pantry.

She finished the note and went to go make dinner.

"Let's all get reacquainted," said Mortimer. The group had arrived at the home of Ranma and Akane Saotome, and was in the middle of eating supper. He gestured to his right, at a young girl with an oversized spatula. "This is Ukyo Kuonji. Her cooking skills and training have given her an invaluable knowledge of edible and inedible items, which will useful on Ranma's journey." She nodded at the group. "To her left we have Tatewaki Kuno and Kodachi, his sister. His swordsmanship and her use and knowledge of poisons will likewise be beneficial on the trip." They waved shyly at everyone. "Next we have Shampoo and her husband, Mousse. Their unique and fused fighting styles will be helpful, as well as Shampoo's knowledge of Chinese herbal remedies passed down by her great-grandmother. Next we have Herb and his companions, Mint and Lime. Herb was the one who nearly killed Ranma after he was already quite powerful. His skills with the use of ki will be valuable, as well as Mint's strength, and Lime's agility." Herb said nothing. "Next, Hinako Ninomiya. Her fighting style is of good use, and her rare aura-draining ability can also be reversed to impart her, and others', strength to Ranma, as his own power has waned in his sickness." She smiled and waved. "We come to Ryoga Hibiki. His close companionship with Ranma has given him a good sense of how to play off Ranma's moves to be effective. He also has the ability to turn heavy emotions into usable energy, and I can guarantee Ranma will not survive unless he shakes off the almost immovable depression that has settled on him recently."

Ryoga did nothing, but inwardly he realized why he had been one of the ones called. If such a heavy ki had fallen upon him, he knew from experience that Ranma might not be able to take it off alone. Mortimer continued. "Next we have, um, Taro." The man whom Mortimer gestured seemed pleased by this. "His brute strength will come in handy more than once. Lastly we have Shinnosuke. His mastery of the unique healing waters of the Higo Forest will certainly help Ranma recover." Shinnosuke wore many bandages, but managed a smile. "Now then," said Mortimer, "I suggest we get to work."

Together Ukyo, Kodachi, and Shampoo compiled a book of foods, poisons, and herbs that would useful and would be found on their journey. After Akane acquired some supplies, Shampoo concocted a health potion, which was promptly given to Ranma. Afterwards, with a little help from Akane, Shinnosuke prepared a bath of healing water for Ranma. Then, after a good soak, he had Ranma drink some of the water of Higo, including a bit of the rare Moss of Life itself. Finally, gathering the energy of the entire team, Hinako siphoned the power through herself into Ranma. The group, drained, fell to the floor. Akane struggled to prop herself up on one elbow. She looked over at Ranma. He appeared indifferent to everything. "Now what?" she whispered to Mortimer. "Now," he said, "we wait."

Later on that evening, the group sat around the living room talking nervously amongst themselves. Murmurs about the concerns of Ranma and the fate of the world drifted through the strangely sweet air. Mortimer entered into the room. "Um, hello," he said, equally nervous. He had something to say, but he didn't know exactly how to say it. He would just have to tell them. He rolled his hat in his hands and began. "I have something to say, but I don't know exactly how to say it, so I'm just going to tell you. As you know, if Ranma recovers, tomorrow you will begin your journey. There will be no time during it to do anything else, and once he completes it, you will be back in the proper time and not remember any of this. If he does not recover, then the world is doomed anyhow. So I'm just going to say this once. This being the last night before the beginning of the saving or destruction of the world, and that meaning there will be no other good time for it, none will be judged in any way should any or all of you choose to take any sort of, um, ahem, shall we say, lascivious action."

His stony face not betraying any of the firey embarrassment he felt, Mortimer walked out of the room mechanically. For a long time the entire group did the opposite of what Mortimer did: they said nothing, and they all blushed bright red. Finally Mint and Lime whispered something into Herb's ears. He sighed. "Fine," he growled, and grabbed a pail of cold water. "But I won't like it." He stormed off to a back room with Mint and Lime followly eagerly. Perhaps it was the desire to not hear anything of what they all knew was going to occur that prompted them. Or maybe it was Mint and Lime's boldness that spurred them on. Whatever it was, they all got up and loudly began to make their own arrangements. Then they went to their rooms, and that was that.

Mortimer blew out a puff of smoke into the cool night air. He liked coming to the top of the building, especially when he wanted to either think deeply about something, or not think about something at all. Tonight he was doing a lot of both. The door to the roof shut softly far behind him. He glanced back. Ukyo walked up about three feet behind him. "May I join you?" she asked. He indicated she could. She lit up a stubby cigar and walked up next to him, resting her arms on the tall concrete barrier. "I was not aware you smoked," said Mortimer, slightly surprised. "I didn't," she said. "Not until a while ago. I had already concluded the world was going to end soon, when you found me. Then you told me what would happen if Ranma succeeded, and so I thought, you know, why not?" Mortimer harrumphed. "Indeed," he said after a moment. "But if you use that sort of reasoning, why did you decide not to engage in tonight's, ah, you know?" She grinned. "Who says I didn't?" she said. "I'm a one time a night person, and some g-" She interrupted herself. "People," she corrected, "get the job done fast." Mortimer knew there could have been a lot of things she was going to say that started with that letter, but he let it go at that. He was not one to pry, and he did say after all that no one was to be judged. Still...

"Anyone in particular?" he asked Ukyo with a small smile. She puffed on her cigar, and it went out. As she patted herself to look for a light, she said, "Uh, it's um, uh, well, ah." Mortimer waited. "Ryoga," she said in a small voice. Mortimer nodded slowly. He suspected as much. "And, uh, maybe Akane, too..." she said nervously. He handed her a Zippo and she took it gratefully. Even in the darkness he could see her rose cheeks, and he didn't want to humiliate her even more by making her fumble continually. He turned back to watching the undead city.

Mortimer's a nice guy, thought Ukyo, and lit another cigar.

Mortimer knocked softly on each of the bedroom doors, knowing all would be waiting for it. He did not want to intrude in on them, especially in light of things he knew some might well rather keep to themselves. As he went into the kitchen to preapre breakfast, a tap on the shoulder made him turn. It was Ukyo again. "Need some help?" she asked. Mortimer smiled. "It would be greatly appreciated," he said. "After all, that's why you're here." She smiled back. Mortimer nodded towards the kitchen. "Let's get started, shall we?"

In the bedrooms everyone prepared for the journey ahead of them, packing only what they needed, and what they could carry easily, which was sometimes less than what they needed. Akane absently brushed her hair in front of a mirror. She was not embarrassed by anything she had done with anyone last night, but she was afraid of what Ranma would think if he found out. She knew no one else would tell, and so, then and there, she decided she would not tell either. No, she was not embarrassed at all. She was completely cool and collected. The others, however, were a different story. Especially Ryoga. It took him several hours before he could even look at anyone without blushing, especially not Shampoo, Ukyo, or Akane.

After everyone had eaten breakfast, Mortimer rose from his seat to speak. "Today you embark on what will be perhaps the most important journey of your lives, and of the world," he said somberly. "There is only a slim chance you will succeed, and even if you do, there will be no recognition of your great deeds. But even so, before you accomplish your mission, you have the knowledge that your success will ensure a better world than this. Our world may not have been wonderful, but it's certainly better than this." He spread his arms wide, encircling the globe, taking everything into account. A great look of sadness came into his eyes, and he lowered his arms and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, there was a fierce blaze burning in them. "I will now give you a book," he said. He picked a leather bound notebook up off the floor and handed it to Akane. "It contains everything I have managed to learn about what your mission entails. It's not much, but it should get you where you're going. If nothing else, you can sure put up one hard fight." He stood up straight, something no one had seen him really do before. He put his hand to his head in a salute. There was something about him that compelled them to salute back. He smiled. "Give 'em hell, soldiers."