Chapter 1: Here's Ranma.

In the morning the Bayankala Mountain range was an incredibly beautiful and serene place, well worth whatever climbing and walking one went through to get there. But on this particular morning, the peace and serenity was destined to be disturbed.

A squirrel ran out onto the limb of a tree, a nut tucked into its cheeks. It reached about midway out on the branch and stopped, spitting the nut out into its paws and gnawing away at it with its teeth. The squirrel had almost gotten through the nuts tough shell when its head suddenly snapped up. Its nose twitched as it scented the air, and its small ears moved back and forth, twitching at every small sound.

The squirrel suddenly panicked, tucking the nut back into its mouth as it turned and ran full tilt back toward the tree trunk. It disappeared a moment later into the trees other branches, hiding from view in the heavy foliage. For nearly a minute, nothing happened. But the squirrel didn't reappear.

Then lightning flickered. This wasn't a full on lighting bolt striking down from the cloudless sky. It was merely a small bit of lighting suddenly flickering in midair for a moment, with one very large fact to proclaim it as unusual. The lightning was black.

For a few seconds there was nothing except small flickers of black lightning. Then the lightning suddenly picked up tempo and fervor, crackling angrily in the air while slowly forming a sphere. Eventually, the lightning was flickering like mad across the surface of a black sphere of energy, perfectly round, and with some unknown object inside.

One last crackle of black lightning sounded when the sphere suddenly shrank inward, revealing a young man, who was perfectly calm as if he appeared in orbs of black lightning everyday.

The young man looked to be about sixteen, had long black hair tied back into a pigtail that reached his shoulders, stormy gray blue eyes, and was dressed completely in black. A black v-neck tank top, with netting across the v, was tucked into a pair of loose pants, which were in turn tucked into a pair of black boots. A black sash with silver kanji sown into it was tied around the young man's waist, the ends blowing slightly in the breeze. The young man's right hand was currently holding a black cloak, which was thrown over his right shoulder. Each forearm had a gauntlet made out of an unknown black material that was revealed to have dark blue highlights as light played across the surface, making it look as if he had dark waters from the bottom of the ocean wrapped around his forearms.

He took a deep breath of mountain air, glancing around. (Geez. Death has really got to perfect that teleportation spell of his. Sure, it gets you from point A to point B, but it's one hell of a bumpy ride. Now then, where exactly am I...?)

He closed his eyes for a moment, appearing to be just standing perfectly still. Then his eyes snapped open and he glared about him. (And apparently point B is several hundred miles off target!! I'm supposed to be in Japan, not mainland China!! No wonder Death was always late!)

He sighed and swung his cloak about his shoulders, slipping his arms into the sleeves. The cloak dangled down to a few inches above his feet. (Well, might as well get moving. I've got a bit of a walk ahead of me.)

With that the young man set off, walking briskly down the mountain, enjoying the air and scenery as he went along.

Mascara, an Amazon of extreme age and incredible shortness, watched her grandniece Lotion as she warmed up for the annual tournament. Ever since Cologne left taking her great-granddaughter with her chasing after that young outsider, the other young fighters of the village actually started to work harder. Now that Shampoo wasn't around and someone else could win the grand prize, the other fighters redoubled their efforts, rising high in the art in an attempt to take the gold. To Mascara, it was a blessing.

Cologne was the greatest warrior in the village, and an incredibly wise woman, that Mascara couldn't and wouldn't deny. And Shampoo was a well chosen heir, filled with potential. However, having someone so strong in the younger generation was both a blessing and a curse. The other children her age had long since fallen behind, not being under the direct and sole tutelage of the village matriarch, and were losing determination. If they couldn't have a chance at the gold, why bother trying? And since Amazons only gave one prize, there was no competition for the position of runner up.

A gong sounded deep in the village and Mascara and Lotion both headed for the origin of the sound, arriving at the tournament ring in a few minutes. Instead of the usual challenge log a circle twenty feet in diameter had been marked out on the ground, allowing much more freedom of movement, as well as some of the more advanced moves such as the Hiryu Shoten Ha, which required a greater area to execute than the challenge log supplied. Mascara quickly claimed her usual seat as Lotion went to join the group of those participating in the tournament.

While waiting for the tournament to begin, Mascara scanned the crowd, placing names with faces. But as she looked over the crowd, two men moving near the edges caught her attention. Normally her eyes would've passed over them without so much as a moment's hesitation. The Jusenkyo Guide wasn't that rare of a sight in the village, and outsiders were more or less beneath the notice of a village elder, especially males. However, her instincts compelled her to keep the outsider, a young man dressed completely in black, in her sight at all times. She decided to get closer and inspect him more thoroughly with her senses.

With that decision made, she moved through the crowd, the people parting slightly to let her through, until she came up behind them. Much closer now she could feel the young outsider's power in much more detail, and she nearly gasped in surprise at what she found.

The young outsider's aura was, for lack of a better term, huge. It took most fighters in the Amazon village nearly thirty years to build up an aura this big. And that wasn't all. The aura was tightly held in and controlled, making her suspicious as to just how much power he really had. With the amount of control she suspected he had over his ki, Mascara was fairly certain that his aura could be over ten times larger than it was at the moment. That would put him on par with an elder of the village, something unheard of in one so young.

Mascara moved closer, intending to introduce herself to the outsider, and possibly find some way to make physical contact. Doing so would allow her the chance to make as accurate an assessment of his power as possible. She took another step forward when the outsider suddenly stopped and turned around to face her, looking down at her. The Guide kept walking for a moment before realizing that his charge had stopped.

The Guide found the young man he had been guiding facing an elder of the village. The woman was barely two and a half feet tall, and was dressed in the traditional robes of a village elder. She was smiling warmly at the young man in welcome and she extended her right hand as she spoke in perfect Japanese.

"Welcome to our humble village, young man. I am one of the elders, Mascara, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

The outsider looked down at her, his face devoid of emotion, for a moment. He then grinned in a way that said 'I know what you're up to.' For a moment Mascara thought he was going to risk insulting her by not shaking her hand, but he then removed his right hand from the pocket of his cloak, bent down slightly, and shook her hand. The moment their skin made contact, Mascara froze as she sensed the outsider's power.

After a moment he broke the handshake, Mascara still frozen. Soon after their skin broke contact she came back to life, staring up at the outsider calculatingly. She now knew that this young man must be brought into the tribe. Period, end of discussion. Mascara went off to find her grandniece, feeling the eyes of the outsider on her back as she went.

The Guide stepped forward, coming abreast of the young man as he watched the elder leave. Soon she had disappeared into the crowd, and the young man turned and motioned for the Guide to lead on.

As he moved forward, the Guide spoke in broken Japanese. "Oh, Sir is very lucky! Most women of village no like outsider, especially male outsider. To have elder show such kindness so soon very rare!"

The young man answered, his tone carrying a small bit of humor. "Must be my irresistible charm."

The Guide didn't know what the word 'charm' was in Japanese so he simply nodded. As they moved around the crowd surrounding the center of the village, the Guide kept up a dialogue explaining what was happening, and how important the tournament was to the Amazons.

Soon they had completed circling the crowd and the young man asked a question he had been mulling over in his mind. "Guide, are there any special laws or customs pertaining to a citizen of this village fighting an outsider?"

The Guide nodded, glad that this young man seemed to catch onto things quickly. "Yes, two such laws, they are-"

"Nothing you would need to worry about. They are trivial things."

The Guide and the young man both turned to find that Mascara had returned and had brought a young girl with her, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She had long red hair, which she had tied back into two buns that sat atop her head, and had blue eyes. A heart shaped face framed the eyes, with gentle curves evident in the bone structure. A red robe with long wide sleeves, which went well with her hair, couldn't completely hide her developing figure, or her slim waist and flat stomach. A pair of white pants were visible underneath the robe, as while it went down to her ankles, it was slit on both sides up to her waist.

"This is my grandniece Lotion, and I would be honored if you would give her a short match."

Lotion didn't so much as blink in surprise, instead taking the time to study this outsider, and liking what she was seeing. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe about 5'10", but like her own robe, his cloak couldn't completely hide his body, which she could tell was firmly muscled and lean. And he moved with an unconscious grace, like a big cat as it moved lazily about. He seemed to flow along instead of merely walking, speaking of great flexibility of his body.

"I'm sorry, but so soon before a tournament that she'll be participating in? I think I'll decline for now until after the tournament."

Lotion frowned. Her Japanese was considerably better than most people's in the village, since she was rather fascinated with foreign languages, and she had to bite her tongue to stop a vicious retort. She'd let her grandaunt handle this.

Mascara predictably spoke up in Lotion's defense. "Ah, but she has not yet finished her warm up, and doing so against another person will be more beneficial than alone."

The young outsider nodded, as that did make sense. "True. But since tact didn't work...The answer is no. I will not fight her, not even to help her warm up."

"Why not?!" Lotion immediately regretted speaking, but she couldn't have stopped the words.

The outsider turned to look her in the eye. "Because you have two laws concerning outsiders and combat, and I won't fight until I know what they are. Once I know, then I'll decide whether or not to fight you." He turned to leave, stopping as his left side was facing her. "Besides, I don't feel like hurting anyone right now, and even a pulled punch will do a lot of damage to you, possibly more than you can take."

Lotion ground her teeth and her right hand disappeared into the sleeve of her robe. It reappeared with eight throwing knives held between her fingers, and she drew back her arm and flung it forward with a "Ha!" The knives flew true, aiming for critical but not lethal points.

But the outsider, without bothering to look, simply caught all the knives between the fingers of his left hand, his arm blurring as it moved to intercept each knife. For a moment Lotion blinked in surprise. Then both of her hands dipped into her sleeves as she drew back both of her arms, and flung them forward.

This time eight chains appeared, each with either a knife or spiked ball at the end. The outsider turned to fully face her, and an item fell out of the sleeve of his cloak into his right hand. He raised it and Lotion gaped in astonishment that a martial artist would use such a thing before the young man pulled the trigger of the Uzi in his hand.

BLAM B-BLAM BLAM B-BLAM BLAM!!!

Each of the chains was deflected and the outsider relaxed the grip he had on the Uzi. Lotion became aware of a tense silence where before there had been the usual sounds of a crowd, and she realized that everyone had gone silent and turned at the sounds of gunfire.

The outsider looked at her appraisingly, the Uzi still in his right hand, smoke slowly drifting from the barrel. "Hidden Weapons huh?"

For a moment Lotion just stood still. Then she found her voice again. "What kind of Martial Artist are you, using a gun?!"

He blinked and lowered the Uzi, letting it point at the ground. "Martial Artist? Hmph, you won't find my name in that list of weaklings."

The sound of grinding teeth, shifting feet, and tightening grips on weapons was suddenly very audible. Lotion herself had to exert every bit of willpower from jumping forward and ripping out the man's eyes.

"I'm not a Martial Artist. I'm a warrior."

Lotion slowly calmed down as he continued to explain.

"A warrior uses everything he can in a battle. Every weapon, every tool, every aspect of his opponent, their strengths or weaknesses, even every detail of the landscape..." He crouched down, dropping the knives form his left hand, and plucking a single blade of yellowed grass from the ground. "...No matter how simple."

Lotion frowned. "A mere blade of grass won't work on me. Perhaps we should take you to a doctor, see if your head's alright."

He smiled as he stood up, the grass held between his thumb and index finger. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to show you how 'mere' this blade of grass is then." Then he snapped his wrist, throwing the blade of grass at her.

And through her.

Lotion gasped at the sudden burning pain in her chest and glanced down, feeling at the front of her robes with her right hand in shock. Her hand came away smeared with a small amount of blood.

"You're lucky you didn't move. So much as a twitch and that would've gone through your heart or left lung."

Lotion looked at him, feeling faint a trickling of fear in her breast as he released the Uzi. Instead of dropping to the ground, it was sucked up into his cloak's sleeve, defying the laws of physics.

For a moment stunned silence ruled the clearing. Then excited whispers broke out as the young man tucked his hands once again into the pockets of his cloak. Mascara was watching with barely contained glee. (Such a man hasn't come to this village in ages! Getting him into our tribe will increase our power greatly!) Then she saw another elder approaching the small area where Lotion and the outsider were standing, a young girl in tow. Mascara mentally cursed, then did so aloud as she saw that the outsider had already spotted the two approaching. And the next two elders with young woman in tow. Mascara quickly moved to head them off. (They'll ruin everything!)

The outsider sighed as he walked over to Lotion, who came close to taking a step back. He smiled slightly, a sad little smile, and reached out to grab her shoulder gently but firmly with his right hand. He raised his left hand, the index finger extended and glowing a faint blue, and touched the spot where the grass had gone through. Lotion blinked as the sting abruptly vanished on both her chest and her back. She still felt a slight itch while she breathed, but she was still thankful.

"Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the irritation. That'll have to go away on its own."

For a moment, Lotion merely looked into the outsider's eyes. Then she became aware of the downright shouting match between the elders. The words were garbled as they were all shouting, trying to make each other heard, but a few were understandable.

"-he'll fight-"

"-not your place to-"

"-laws dictate-"

"-being stupid, all-"

"-et out of m-"

"-andmother, wha-"

The outsider looked over the small gathering, a stony expression on his face. He then turned to call to the guide in perfect Chinese. "Guide, thank you for showing me the way so far. But now I must travel alone."

The Guide blinked in surprise but nodded. Just then, two elders simply walked around Mascara toward the outsider, determination written all over their faces. They stopped when they felt a slight surge of ki from the outsider when he suddenly grinned at them and...

...Disappeared.

:Nerima, Japan:

At Furinkan High, things were progressing as usual. Classes had gone as smooth as ever, lunch had come and gone with a few events, and Saotome Genryu had thrown Kuno around like he was a rag doll, beaten both Mousse and Ryoga, and been drained by Hinako sensei. He had also been punted around by Akane for something he wasn't sure he did, drugged by Kodachi, and blackmailed by Nabiki. Just a normal day in Nerima.

On a rooftop not far from Furinkan a young man dressed completely in black suddenly popped into existence, looking around. After a moment he sighed, and hopped down onto the empty street. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak and started to walk toward Furinkan just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Predictably, students poured out of the large building in a flood, heading for the gate.

Seeing the students coming toward him, he decided to wait and leaned against one of the pillars of the gate. Just as the first students reached him and he was about to stop one to ask for directions, a commotion back in the main body of the flood caught his attention. The students thinned out slightly, allowing him to see what was happening.

A boy, about 15, was running from a girl about a year older than he was, dodging between the students around him with ease, the girl hot on his heals, apparently rather angry about something. The boy had short red brown hair, and blue eyes, and was dressed in a red Chinese shirt, and black Chinese pants, tied off at the ankle above kung fu slippers. The girl, in contrast, had short dark blue hair, large brown eyes, and was wearing the standard female uniform.

The young man at the gate watched them for a moment, forgetting that he needed directions. As the two neared the gate, another young man, this one with short brown hair, and wearing traditional kendo clothes in blue and black, ran on an intercept course, a bokken held high in the air. He was shouting, his voice carrying what he obviously thought was a dramatic and righteous tone. "Prepare to die, foul sorcerer, before the greatness that is Kuno Tatewaki!!"

Soon the kendoist had intercepted the 'foul sorcerer', and began slashing away with his bokken, despite the boy's protests that he wanted to get home. The young man watched bemusedly as a small space was formed around the two, a crowd gathering to watch. The girl that had been chasing the boy ended up near the gate.

She started slightly when she noticed the young man leaning against the pillar. She knew he wasn't a student, though he was young enough to be one. She gave him a quick once over, noting his black hair tied back into a pigtail, eyes the oddest shade of gray-blue, and his entirely black ensemble. When her gaze returned to his head, she saw that his own gaze had switched form the fight between Genryu and Kuno to her. She blushed slightly at having been caught staring. After a moment he smiled slightly.

"Hi. Could you give me some directions? I haven't been to Japan in over ten years, and I'm a little lost."

She nodded, glad he wasn't going to call her on staring. "Oh, no problem, I'd be happy to."

He opened his mouth to tell her where he was going when a new person joined in the fight.

Ryoga, forgoing his normal battle cry of 'Saotome Genryu, Prepare to DIE' merely joined in the fight swinging his umbrella around like mad. His first swing, a downward thrust, missed and crashed into the pavement, shattering it easily.

The girl turned back to the fight, shouting out. "Genryu, why are you picking a fight with Ryoga now?! Finish your fight with Kuno first!"

She didn't notice how the young man she had been talking too suddenly looked at her sharply. (Genryu?!)

In the fight, Genryu had just ducked under a slash from Kuno and Ryoga flipped open his umbrella. He drew back his arm and sent the unusual weapon spinning through the air. The intended target, Genryu, dropped and rolled to the side, letting the umbrella pass him by harmlessly.

The people watching the fight, however, were not as fortunate as the umbrella was suddenly spinning toward them. In particular, a certain blue haired girl who didn't see the deadly projectile curving through the air toward her. Fortunately, the young man standing next to her did.

He placed his left hand on her shoulder and yanked her out of the way, earning a startled yelp, while his right hand shot out and grabbed the umbrella by the handle. He didn't so much as blink at its weight as he flicked his wrist, closing it, then threw it back into the fight.

Ryoga, who was about to use a Breaking Point on the ground right below Genryu, suddenly flew backwards as his own umbrella crashed into his face with the force of a sledgehammer. Genryu and Kuno stopped fighting in surprise as Ryoga crashed down onto the ground, dazed.

"Be more aware of where your own weapons go."

Both Genryu and Kuno whirled around to face the speaker and saw a young man, dressed in black, with his left hand still on Akane's shoulder. Kuno, of course, interpreted things in his own way.

Kuno jabbed his bokken at the young man who dared touch his Akane. "You, Fowl Knave, shall release the beautiful flower that is Tendo Akane this instant, lest the wrath of the heaven does befall you in the form of my most righteous anger!"

In response, the young man just blinked. "Right." He then turned to Akane, taking his hand off her shoulder and stuffing both hands into his cloak pockets. "Now, about those directions..."

"FOOL! You shall NOT turn away from my greatness until I have finished!!"

Kuno charged, swinging his bokken with what he thought passed for skill.

A forward thrust was avoided by a tilt of the head a fraction to the right, and a downward slash hit nothing but air as the intended target turned slightly, while a horizontal slash aimed at the head missed when the young man leaned forward slightly. As this was going on, the young man carried out a conversation with Akane.

"I'm looking to get to Juuban. Can you point me in the right direction?"

"Juuban? Yeah. It's that way, but the best mode of transport is the subway, which is a few blocks that way. Geez, you must have been gone a long time to have forgotten where Juuban was." She blushed and held a hand up to her mouth as she realized that what she said was rather rude.

He simply smiled. "Well, like I said, it's been over ten years. Now, if...Damn it." He had just narrowly avoided a horizontal slash by stepping to the side, and Akane could see that he was rather annoyed. "One moment please."

He then turned to face Kuno, who shouted, "Ah, so you have finally decided to face me, eh? Then prepare yourself for the pain you most assuredly deserve to receive from the most perfect sword technique!"

Kuno raised his bokken for another attack when the young man responded. "Save it." He then moved forward and dealt with Kuno.

SNAP CRACKLE POP!!! "AAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"

Quite brutally too.

Akane winced, feeling several sympathy pains as she studied Kuno, who was now lying on the ground, unconscious. The young man turned back to her, letting out a sigh of relief. He rolled his head around, popping his neck. "Much better."

Genryu watched as the young man talked with Akane, getting more information about the subway. He glanced at Kuno lying on the ground, remembering how quickly the man in black had dealt with the upstart kendoist. Genryu returned his gaze to the young man, and popped his knuckles. Something about black clad boy was rubbing him wrong. The way he moved and spoke reminded Genryu of something, and he felt extreme annoyance welling up within him for some reason.

He took a stance and decided to 'test' this young man, see what he was made of. And if he happened to score a direct hit and break a bone, oh well, them's the breaks.

Genryu rushed forward, drawing back his right hand, and punched, aiming for the stranger's shoulder. Instead of striking the expected flesh, Genryu's fist blew through the air as the young man suddenly leaned to his right. Genryu then felt the unexpected feeling of fingers closing around his wrist as the young man grabbed Genryu with his left hand, and flipped Genryu into the air, releasing him and letting him fly away.

Genryu flipped over in the air to land on his feet and studied the young man, now twenty feet away.

Akane took a step forward, eyeing Genryu angrily. "Genryu, what are you doing?!"

Before Genryu could answer, the young man interrupted, walking forward so that he stood directly across form Genryu. "Genryu? Saotome Genryu?"

Genryu blinked in surprise. "Uh...yeah. How do you know my name? You don't have a sister that pops engaged me to do you?" The young man shook his head to the negative. "Are you out on some stupid quest for revenge for something I didn't do?" Another shake of the head to the negative. "Are you here to kidnap Akane?" A few blinks this time, followed by another shake to the negative. Genryu frowned. Then what was getting him so annoyed?! Why did this guy look so familiar?! Genryu could feel that he had met this guy somewhere.

At that moment, Genryu glanced around, trying to think, and his eyes rested on a pane of glass in a shop window across the street, and his reflection on the glass. He suddenly blinked in surprise then glanced at the young man and then back to the reflection. He did so several more times before coming out of his stance and glaring at the young man across the street.

"So, Ranma, you've finally returned. It's been quite a while."

Akane blinked in surprise and looked between Genryu and the young man next to her. "Genryu, you know him?" She could hear several whispers from the gathered crowd as they watched.

"Oh? So you do recognize..."

A sudden wind blew through, blowing the stranger's cloak about. It pinned it to his right leg, while making it billow away from his left. His pigtail and bangs were also picked up in the wind, and danced about. He had his right hand in the pocket of his cloak, while his left dangled at his side, clenched into a fist.

"...the face of your older brother."

:Author's Note:

Ah, finally done with chapter 1. I apologize for the constant 'young man' and 'outsider dressed in black' if any of you found it confusing. I have a slight habit of trying to keep people's names hidden till a certain point, even if I give away who they are before hand.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, and I hope to hear from you in a review. Please let me know what you think.