Disclaimer: No gerbils have been harmed in the writing of this fanfic. They are like cats - they always land on their feet.

ASHES - A Cinderella Story

Chapter Twelve - Sundered Soul

The spider weaves her web so fine
Threads of crimson, threads of wine
Find your partner, swing her free
Chapter Twelve was meant to be

AT FURINKAN HIGH SCHOOL:

As they left the school grounds, Nabiki fell into step alongside Cinderella, saying, "Y'know, that woman is no longer demanding that you sing at her daughters' birthday party."

"Uh...yeah, thanks, Nabiki-sempai."

"Think nothing of it. Just part of our deal."

"Er. Heh-heh. Yeah. Our deal. Forgot all about that..."

"Speaking of which..."

"Yes?" A bead of 'glow' trickled from Cinderella's brow.

"Since you are 'chan' right now, it seems like an awfully good time for me to collect on my payment for services."

Cinderella squeaked, "Now?"

"Oh, not at this instant. All my props are at home. You know, camera, flash unit, stuff to enhance the allure of the person being photographed."

Cinderella blanched. "Maybe you didn't notice, but I have no desire to be pretty! You said you wanted to take pictures! You didn't say anything about making me look..." she had to strain to pronounce the word, "...alluring!"

"Au contraire! It is the very essense of modelling! Don't you agree, Daisuke-san?"

Daisuke nodded violently.

"Doesn't matter," grumped Cinderella.

"Absolutely no outsider ever sees anything that goes on in my studio. Ask Ranma. How do you think I get him to pose for all his photographs?"

Cinderella guessed, sourly, "Blackmail?"

"Discretion. I never reveal anything about what is going on. It is a mark of professionalism that I would never shame anyone whose picture I take."

Begrudgingly, Cinderella agreed, stopping to refasten the catches on the front of the slicker. "Okay, I'll go. And I want you to know, Nab-san, how much I appreciate your discretion, and the way you are not taking advantage of my situation to ... Nabiki?"

The blonde singer looked about, but Nabiki was no longer by her side. Instead, the middle Tendo daughter was talking to Daisuke, who had bills ready as she was saying "...I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime - right in the dressing room..."

"Hey!" cried Cinderella. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Daisuke looked sheepish, while Nabiki replied, "Really, Hiroshi, you shouldn't be so bashful. Don't you want your friends by your side while you perform?"

Daisuke's sheepish grin faded as he confronted Cinderella's hostile glare. "I think I'd better not," he said to Nabiki, as he crammed his currency back into his pants pocket. "I don't want to collect on my hospitalization insurance this soon!"

AT THE TENDO ABODE:

"I'm home!"

"Good evening, Nabiki! Oh! And who is your friend?"

"Her? Oh, just Hiroshi."

Kasumi blinked, looked again at Cinderella, then withdrew to the kitchen with a puzzled frown, as Nabiki led the blond girl up the stairs.

Nabiki shoved Cinderella into the room and closed the door, where Cinderella wheeled upon her.

"I thought you weren't going to tell! First, you try to sell tickets to Daisuke, then you tell Kasumi who I am! What IS all this?" she demanded.

Nabiki opened the closet and produced an object, handing it to her with a smirk. "THIS is a clothes hanger. You can hang your rain gear on it."

"No way! I'm not taking it off! You know what I'm wearing!"

"No, can't say I do, although I did hear some commotion at the auditorium. Hmmm. What do you have on under that slicker?"

Cinderella blurted, "I've changed my mind! I'm not going to do this!"

"Hiroshi," Nabiki folded her arms and gave the blonde girl a long, patient stare. "Come on! Do you really expect me to use a whole roll of film on you, while you are all covered up? I have a responsibility to provide quality images."

Cinderella snapped, "I'll bet! Who buys these photos, anyway?"

"Fans." Nabiki's smile was not reassuring.

"Fans. Girls? Guys? Perverts?"

"Look. Hiroshi. Isn't it a little late to try to back out?"

"I don't know! I can't think! And I can't let you take pictures of what I have on right now! What the heck am I supposed to wear?"

"Ah, that. Here you go." The closet door slid aside to reveal a myriad of bright objects, which upon closer inspection turned out to be thin strips of cloth, brilliant threads holding together only slightly larger patches of shining fabric, of coordinated hues and shades.

Cinderella's eyebrows went even higher and her cheeks became ashen. "I think I'm gonna puke," she managed to whisper.

"Not before you try these on. I don't want to lose my deposit," Nabiki warned. "Hang in there. You'll get used to it. Try this one, first."

"This is a bathing suit? I've seen sling shots that were bigger than this!"

"This 'bathing suit' happens to be a very expensive beach ensemble. Be respectful when you insult it."

"This is beyond embarrassing! Nothing can make me expose myself that way!"

"Ah...Did you, by any chance, read the fine print on our contract?"

"There's fine print?" Cinderella slowly turned to find Nabiki exhibiting a wide grin, holding out the contract for perusal.

"Absolutely. You'll love it. If you default on your part of the agreement, I have the right to demand another session, at my choice of time and place."

"Your choice? Of time and place?" Cinderella weighed the words. "Exactly when did you have in mind?"

"During the next school assembly. Guess where the photo shoot would be."

"Erk."

"I have to take these suits back tomorrow, but I do have an option on a full range of lingerie."

"Ack!"

"So, either wear these and pose now, or..."

"That's enough," Cinderella said, after glancing at Nabiki's Felix the Cat wall clock. "Okay, you win."

It was Nabiki's turn to be suspicious. "That was entirely too easy," she growled. "What are you up to?"

"My spell only lasts two hours," Cinderella said, smugly. "Two hours are up. I won't have time to pose."

Nabiki's frown turned dangerous. "You. Will. Pose," she growled as she grabbed a crimson and black one-piece suit and shoved it at Cinderella. "Now!"

"But...but I don't have time! There's only two minutes left!"

"I invoke the default clause! Tomorrow, one o'clock in the afternoon! On stage! Lingerie!" She added the clincher, "BLACK lingerie!"

"Ack! I can't...you wouldn't..." Cinderella whimpered.

"I will!" Nabiki hissed as she hoisted her camera. "Start, now! Or else!"

A subdued Cinderella dashed behind the dressing screen, ripped off the slicker and sailled it over the wood-and-rice-paper screen. Frantically, she leapt into the center of the room, wearing the proferred bathing suit. She struck a pose.

"Quit hamming it up!" Nabiki ordered as she snapped off the first of many flashes. "Just smile! You aren't in a horror movie!"

"I don't know about that," huffed Cinderella as she hurriedly shoved into a maroon one-piece with translucent belly-button cutouts.

Swim suits spun across the room like autumn leaves, as Cinderella ripped them off and threw them across the dressing screen, before grabbing another suit from the hangers and pulling it on. She held each pose only long enough for the photoflash to recharge before dashing off for another outfit.

"Twenty-one flash...twenty-two flash...flash...flash..." Nabiki counted, winding and shooting as fast as she could. "Fifty flash...fifty-one flash...fifty-two..."

-poof-

"...flash I don't think I'll be able to use that last one, Hiroshi."

"Argh!" growled Hiroshi, confined in a Precious Pearl bikini.

Nabiki paused thoughtfully. "...although, surely I can find someone who..."

"Don't you dare!" Hiroshi cried, outraged.

"Oh, all right. I'll keep it as a souvenir."

Soun stuck his head in the door. He was wearing his best suit, and he said, "I shall be out this evening, Nab..." He stopped with his eyes glued to Hiroshi, who was poised for flight in pearl-hued strings and partly superflous postage stamp necessities.

"...iki..." Soun finished, turned, and marched toward the stairs with a blank expression. A moment later, the front door closed carefully.

"Whoops," Nabiki grinned, as Hiroshi tried to cover himself with both hands while scrambling to get behind the dressing screen.

A BLAST FROM THE PAST:

Time folds like an accordian, some say, and when the folds are close together you can step across and be whenever you want. The dangers of this step are many, yet through the ages some have been able to take it as casually as if they were going to market.

Urd, of course, rarely went to market, but that is another story. Being the norn of the past, she disdained most trivial everyday activities. She usually liked a little more excitement in her life.

Nevertheless, she stood patiently in the Nerima park, on the tiny arched bridge beside the well dressed man as he gazed beyond the stream. Underneath his long coat, the man was wearing a new suit and glistening shoes, as though celebrating an occasion. Both were wearing floppy, obscuring hats.

Across the duck-laden stream, a woman tended her children as they spread bright dishes for a picnic.

"It is as I remembered," said the man. "She was so gentle with the children, and they were so rowdy, so thoughtless. Just normal kids. If I could only tell them..."

"But you know you cannot, Sensei," Urd reminded him. "The past is past. There is no changing it, we can only hope to learn from it." She heard him sigh and she asked, gently, "Do you have any regrets?"

"No, I suppose not. The children have come through it, but sometimes I worry about my baby girl. She was always so cheerful and supportive, and now, without her mother, she has become so aggressive..."

"I would not worry about her, being the last-born can make a person competitive," Urd spoke as she watched him dab at a tear. "That is the way Kami-sama meant it to be, and you cannot second-guess fate. Plus, I love the way she laughs."

HIROSHI:

I found my shirt and pants folded neatly and stacked atop my Totoro boxers and tee shirt, behind the screen. My mood was black as I peeked out into Nabiki's room, but she had vanished. It was a good thing, for if she had been waiting with a sly grin and a smart-ass remark, I would have probably disregarded the consequences and violated my long-held policy of avoiding bloodshed.

"Oh, there you are, Hiroshi!" Kasumi met me with tea at the base of the stairs, leading me into the living room and enthroning me at the table with all the ceremony of a visiting dignitary. "Dinner will be ready in a moment, if you can stay. My, you are certainly looking like yourself, aren't you?" I did not even try to understand what she meant by that.

Nabiki was seated at the table, poring over several library books. "Not ready, yet," she said with a distracted air.

"What's not ready?" I gulped the tea, my bitter mood disolving despite my determination to hang on to bleak anger.

"Your report. You did ask for information on a girl from a certain village, didn't you? Standard rates."

I could not remain angry and eager at the same time. I said "Yes," shying away from the thought of what 'standard rates' meant when applied to anything that Nabiki provided. Before I could ask her what she had found, she spoke.

"By the way, how is your sweet little sister doing?"

"That brat? I don't know and I don't care, so why should you?"

Nabiki made a face. "Just curious. She is such a charming little ... moppet," She said, struggling with the last word.

I finished the tea with another gulp and handed the cup to Kasumi, who appeared at the exact moment the cup was empty. She cleared the table on her way toward the kitchen.

"You couldn't prove it by me," I said. "She's a pain. She's a health hazard." She manipulates. She lies. There was no way I could be as heartless as she said. But why did I feel so bad about it, now? "Could we change the subject?"

"Fine. I've got to call my sources, then I'll be through. Where can I find you, later on?"

"I'm going to go home, veg out in front of the TV and try not to think about what your father thinks of me!"

"Oh. That. I wouldn't worry, Hiroshi. He's seen far worse."

I covered my face with my hands and sighed, "I doubt it."

"Are you too distraught to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." I peeked out from behind my hands. "Why?"

On cue, Kasumi appeared with an armload of bowls filled with succulent dishes. "Nabiki?" she called, "Have you seen Mr. Saotome?"

"He was Panda-san and heading for the back woods, the last time I saw him."

"Oh, dear! Why should he do that?"

"Someone told him that Mrs. Saotome was coming for a visit," Nabiki said, radiating innocence. "Must have been a mistake."

"Oh, my," Kasumi said. "Ranma is off somewhere, Akane has gone shopping with some friends, and now Father has gone out for the night. This entire meal will go to waste."

"Too bad," Nabiki said, eying me. "Hiroshi just said he wasn't hungry."

"I'll call Mom and tell her not to wait up!" I said, grabbing the phone while trying to ignore Nabiki's grin.

AT THE PRIMROSE PRACTICE HALL:

The door swung open with only a touch. I entered, craning my neck back and forth, hoping to spy any occupants before they descended upon me. I did not want to meet the ugly stepmother while I was me.

The practice hall echoed eerily; I overheard something that sounded like whimpering, but it did not repeat itself and so I figured I was hearing things. On the stage, positioned on a stand as if ready for a performance, was the mask. It was white lacquered wood, with a crimson grimace glistening on the trim, and black ties hanging to the sides. On a flat place inside, it had a plaque: 'Made by Bunodai, of finest ash, #46'.

It drew me. I lifted it, so fine and thin that it seemed to float on the air, the silken ties streaming behind it as I swung it around, trying to build up the courage to try it on. A true hero should be prepared to die for his love. A true hero would sacrifice himself to save her. Who was I kidding? I decided to drop the whole matter and go home, only my feet would not obey. I continued to stand there, on the stage, unable to walk away from the cursed carved wood. My knees shook and my hands failed when I lifted it to peer through the eye slits.

At last I fitted it to my face and prepared to be struck down by the demon, but I felt nothing unusual. The view through the eyeslits was so restricted that there was no way I could have fought wearing it, the way Kidori had done. I could hardly see the floor in front of me. In fact, the only thing I noticed was that the whimpering had started again. The noise grew louder, until I was certain that it was someone crying. I replaced the mask and followed my ears.

The whimpering became the sound of a girl, weeping. The girl's weeping became sobs, and the sobs became moans of deep, heartfelt pain, the kind that constrict the throat and make it impossible for a person to speak - all they can do is gasp and groan and cry until the tears are gone. I froze as panic urged me to flee, while the heartwrenching sobs robbed me of my strength and bound me to the spot. Having heard them, I could not leave until I discovered who was so horribly saddened, and the cause of their grief. Yet, I only wanted to know why - I already knew who it was. It could only be Kidori, and her sobs were tearing my heart from my chest, they were so painful.

At last I came to the office where I had met her stepmother, and, hesitantly, I turned the knob to the office door. I expected to be grabbed by a set of powerful arms and subjected to inhuman torture. This door, like the outside door, glided open on oiled hinges and invited me deeper into the office. There was a desk, and behind the desk, in a beaten swivel chair, was Kidori. She was huddled on the cushion as she bent her head upon her knees and sobbed. When she heard the door thump against the wall she looked up.

I was poised for flight, gripping the door panel with whitened knuckles, ready to shove with all my might, anything to give me a head start in a dash for safety. I was no fighter and I was facing a monster who could dare to face Ranma head-on, who could break me like a twig if I so much as sneezed wrong. I was ready to bolt if she even crossed her eyes at me. I could run, I thought. I could move very fast, when it came to saving my out-of-shape carcass.

I didn't have a chance. She saw me and jumped across the office, grabbing me before I could blink. I steeled myself to die.

"Hiroshi!" she cried with warm delight.

I opened one eye. I was still alive. I opened the other eye.

Kidori had her arms wrapped around me in a loving hug, her head pushing against my chest as she talked rapidly, "Hiroshi! I knew you would come for me! My love! I've waited so terribly long for you! I thought you had forgotten when I saw you at the concert and I sang the song for you, the one where I told you how terribly hard it was to see you so close, but I could not reach out for you because there were so many things that could go wrong, and now you are here and you're going to take me away, just like in the stories, and..."

She sensed that I was not responding as she had expected, and this caused her to stop in uncertainty.

"Hiroshi?" she asked, suddenly timid.

"Y...Y...Yes?" I stammered.

"Hiroshi, don't you recognise me? Please, say you know me. Let it be like old times, my love."

I wanted to say, "I'm sorry! Really, I am! I want to remember something wonderful, with us together, because I really am drawn to you and I think you are very special, even though you do turn into a monster, and I think that I want to know you better!"

What I said, was, "Ah...ah...I'm sorry!"

She threw her arms about me and pressed her face to my chest. Afraid that she would start crying again, I tried to clear my throat and make my speech. Kidori interrupted my to say, "I could help you to remember, Haji."

"Ulp." I swallowed the statement I was about to make.

"Would you like me to try, Hiroshi?"

"You called me Haji."

"I know, isn't that silly of me? Anyone can tell you aren't Haji, this time."

"Er...this time?"

"Hold me, my love. Let me feel your embrace."

"Really, I think we should get to know each other the conventional way - go out and get a coke and fries, or maybe go to the park, and then maybe to a carnival..."

"Hiroshi..." she began.

"Yes, my...Kidori-chan?"

"You don't really think I am your lover, do you?"

"I...I'm not sure," I faltered. "All I know is that I have been drawn to you since I first saw you, on the stage."

She moved closer. "And when was that?" she breathed. She started nibbling at my lower lip, and I almost could not answer.

"When I first saw you. When I..." I was fumbling my big chance. I could tell her about how I turned into Cinderella, and how we had already sung and danced, before she knew that she was in love with me. "When Cinderella went out and..."

"Oh!" cried Kidori. "Isn't she heavenly?"

I deflated immediately. "Do you like her that much?" I asked, and I could not keep a stain of jealousy from bleeding into my voice.

"She's wonderful! I simply adore her!"

"More than me?" I could not keep the hurt out.

"Don't be silly! You are my life! No one can come between us! But I am so happy that she could be my friend, as well!"

"I...I don't know what to say."

"Hiroshi, my love. What do you want?"

I braced myself. "If you saw the two of us at the same time, who would you rather be with - her or me?"

"Do you mean I would have to choose? Oh, Hiroshi! You can't be that cruel! Your heart has always been bigger than the two of us!"

I wanted to say, "You don't have to choose. You can have both," but the words stuck in my throat. If I told her, then I would never know. I hit myself in the head with my fist, willing the pain. I would never know!

She exclaimed with a sob of joy, "Hiroshi! My love! It does not matter! You have come for me!" She leapt to her feet and rushed to hold me. I felt a thrill as she clutched me and wept into my shoulder, and my petty jealousy melted. She had called me her love. She had been waiting for me. She did not know me from the fishmonger down the street, and yet she knew I would come to her. I held a warm, beautiful, and desirable girl in my arms, and I was very frightened. She might be a black widow. She might, at that very moment, be possessed of the ghost in the mask, and holding me close in order to slip a poisoned blade into my back. And I was prepared to let her kill me, any way she wished, for the mere opportunity to hold her for a few minutes longer.

Baka. Boy am I baka.

"Oh, Hiroshi!" she cried, "I have waited so long! I know you don't remember, but it was you I cared for, so long ago! I have kept your love in my heart, hoping that you would come for me, and now..." A sob caught in her throat and she turned from me, downcast. "I can't go! I am bound to remain here, until I have finished! I must obey Mother! Oh, I am so weak-willed! You have come to free me, yet I cannot go!"

"You don't have to stay here!" I told her. "You don't have to be a slave! You can leave!"

"No, I can't," she sobbed. "I must obey her. I have no will power. Anyone can command me, and I cannot refuse."

"Anyone?" An unwanted thought occured to me, standing there so close to her, so lovely, so desirable. So tempting. The room was getting warmer, or there was steam wilting my collar.

"Anyone!" she sobbed, "I cannot refuse!"

"Anything?" The steam was coming out of my ears. I know it was. I could feel it. She was warm and desirable, molding herself against me.

"Oh, I am so sorry! I am so weak!"

"Weak?" I thought of a distant field, my body failing, as Kidori fought and died because I was too weak to fight for myself. Suddenly, the delicious images flooding my mind were gone, as if blasted away in a great wind. I sputtered, "Weak? Impossible! Look at your career! Look at your songs!"

"I only did that because Mother told me to perform!"

"And the mask? Why do you wear the mask?"

She cringed, her words barely audible, "I cannot refuse her."

"She will never refuse me!" another voice, strident and demanding, rang out in the small room. I turned to encounter the grotesque face I had seen before. Now, the woman wearing that face was not attacking. She was gloating, "She is mine to command! If you do not want her to attack you, you will leave!"

"She does not truly want you!" Juupooka declared as she joined Kidori's step-mother. The room was filled to overflowing. I had always known that Juupooka was large, but this was the first time I had seen how huge she was. Into the remaining area slipped Sakku-chan, and she was even homelier than I remembered.

Sakku-chan placed a scrawny, possessive arm around Kidori, and Kidori followed her without protest. "Remember this, my daughter," the step- mother said. "We love you. Only we love you."

I saw the dream of my life being led meekly away from me, and I felt my heart crack. Kidori did not even protest. She raised her eyes to mine and wept, but in her face I saw only blind obedience.

"Out," Juupooka grumbled, pointing at the doorway.

I went, closing the squeaky door and making my miserable way to the front of the practice hall. Outside, I headed down the street, not looking back until I was half a block away. When I did turn, I saw Kidori at a window. She held her arms out to me and I could see her saying something, before rough hands grabbed her and pulled her back behind the curtains. While I am not good at reading lips, I think she was saying, 'Hiroshi. I need you. Please help me.'

I could not go home. The pain in my chest was so great that I knew of only one place to ease it. I had to speak to someone wise in the way of subterfuge and double-dealing. That was why I went to see Shampoo's great-grandmother.

AT THE CAT CAFE:

"Well, you didn't come in here to discuss food, Boy!" Cologne pinned me with a sharp eye, the way I would have mounted an insect on a board for biology. "What do you want, anyway?"

"I think he knows," I said as I indicated Ranma, who was sitting at a nearby table. He nodded in return, showing none of his normal brashness. It figured that he would be here. Cologne was the most likely source of information on haunted masks, and, aside from me, Ranma was the most eager person to learn. Maybe Cinderella had a better honed fighting awareness, but I had the ability to put two and two together and not be upset when the answer was four. Daisuke could, also, but he would probably fake surprise, just to be polite.

The old ghoul flipped her dishtowel over her shoulder, where it fell over Mousse's head. When Mousse complained, she followed the cloth with a shot of cold dishwater, ignored a burst of furious quacking to drop a cage over the duck, and turned to me to say, "If it's about permission to post school announcements on our windows, the answer is 'no'."

"I'm not here about that. Bear with me. I don't know if this will work or not."

I returned Ranma's nod, swallowed the lump in my throat, and continued, "I've heard that you can see magical influences. I don't suppose you see anything unusual about me?"

I got a blank, no-comment look from Cologne. She was not going to volunteer any information, but she had to be interested because she was not dismissing me out of turn, either.

Gathering my resolve, I started down the list of possible triggers by saying, "'I want to be a rock star!'" My white shirt and black pants remained, so I deduced that I was still me.

Then, with a twinge, I proceeded to the next trigger, the one which had clothed me in jogging gear:

"'Love robot!'"

No point in looking at myself. From the pained expressions on their faces, I knew that Basho had already made good his promise to eliminate this trigger.

With a lump in my throat about the size of a baseball and my face flaming hot, I prepared my final effort. I had not not told Basho about the latest trigger, yet. I did not want to use it, but in order to gain allies, I would have to expose myself. Literally.

"Can I borrow a table cloth?" I asked, and as soon as I had draped it around me, I uttered the most recent and most shameful of my triggers:

"'Legal Briefs!'"

-poof-

To my horror, the table cloth disappeared along with my school shirt and pants, leaving me in girl form, in my underwear.

I yipped and grabbed for another covering. Since Mousse's robe was handy, I hid in it. I had to endure scratches and jabs from sharp objects concealed within it, and ignore the quacking which had risen to the decibel level of a hurricane during fowl weather.

Cologne hopped back to the room after tossing the caged duck into the kitchen. She fairly bounced with anticipation, but she suppressed it to address me, "Exactly what do you expect me to do about this, Boy?"

"Nothing. Not about changing into Cinderella, anyway. I have that under control." The little voice inside my head added, Right. Barring undiscovered phrases. I can quit any time I want to. I'm not getting used to this. Nope. Not me. I added, "However, I do need some information about masks."

"I expected someone else to bring that up, eventually," she rasped. "Son-in-Law, tell him what you suspect."

Ranma gave her a sour look as he shrugged. "Looks like a haunted battle mask, just like y'said. But it's old. Real old."

Cologne's cheek muscle twitched in irritation. "Tell him the rest!" she snapped.

"She didn't feel no different!" Ranma responded, shooting her a look of irritation. He respected the old ghoul, despite - or perhaps because of - the battles they had fought together, but he did not like being badgered.

"Different?" I pressed, "From what?"

"Herself. One thing I didn't mention to ya about her aura, when we were talkin' about the fight..." he hesitated, then continued, "...that is, when I was tryin' to get past you to get a closer look at her..."

"Hey, I said I was sorry!"

"S'Okay. I told ya Kidori had a real weak aura, as though she had no sense of self at all. There was something bothering me about her that first time, and it hit me again, when she was wearing the mask. Y'said there was a ghost dominating her, but..." He glanced at Cologne again, as if for support, and I began to worry. What could be so bad that it made Ranma uncertain?

"Son-in-Law does not want to upset you," Cologne answered my unspoken question. "What he was trying to say is that he sensed the 'ghost' who was haunting the mask."

"...And...?"

"...And it was her!" Ranma blurted.

"I don't understand," I looked from one to the other. They returned my stare.

"It appears that she has a split personality," the old ghoul was the first to speak. "One side is weak and easily influenced, while the other side is very powerful. The powerful side appears to be an element of her spiritual being which is bound to the mask. I would have to call it a sundered soul. I have seen one or two, but they are very unusual."

"I still don't understand!" I wailed. "Sure, I can see how you would compare a splintered soul to a split personality. But, how could one part of the spirit become embedded in an inanimate object? How could half of Kidori be absorbed by the mask?"

"Not so complicated, Boy. Isolate the fighting spirit of a person, shut it off away from the rest. It remains part of the whole, so to speak, but it is buried, unable to be expressed. The thing which releases it is the association with the mask. To tell the truth, the mask is not haunted, except when Kidori wears it."

I mulled it over, but this required deep thinking. As a result, my head was hurting almost as much as my heart. I began, slowly, to draw out my conclusions, "So, when Kidori wears the battle mask, she is actually gaining her full potential?"

"In a manner of speaking, she is regaining her true self. But it is an unbalanced self, dominated by the anger and fury unsuppressed all these years. If she does not learn how to integrate this unreasoning war spirit, it will overwhelm her and cause her to go insane."

"If she fights against it, she will lose anyway!" I felt my gorge rising. I was going to be sick, I just knew it. Not only was Kidori threatened by her evil self, her true self was the monster I had fought last night!

Cologne shook her scraggly hair at me. "I told you this, and I was wrong." she said, looking as if she tasted bitter gall, "The child must fight. She must conquer herself, in order to become a balanced person, so she can control her hatred."

"But she has no reason to want to do that," I protested. "And, what do you mean, 'all these years'? How old is Kidori, anyway?"

"Sixteen," Ranma said. I must have looked doubtful, so he shoved both his palms forward, saying, "Hey! I can tell! She's young, the mask is old. Real old."

"How old is 'real old'?"

"Centuries," Cologne suggested.

Cold air trickled in through openings in Mousse's garment, chilling me to the heart. "But Kidori's only sixteen!" I objected. "She's my age!"

I chewed on that thought. I could not take much more of this. I was in love with a monster who was hundreds of years old?

Ranma said, after a thoughtful scowl, "Why'dja say she's your girl, anyway?"

It shook me up, having to answer that question. I had been avoiding it, clear up until my fight with Primrose, and after that it seemed pointless to wonder. I avoided answering until I finished untangling my feelings. Then, I said, "I realize I sounded like Kuno, deciding that she is mine without asking her. I can't explain, but I know I have to be near her. It's like an obligation." And now I knew that she returned the feeling.

"Have you asked y'self exactly why she's staying here in Nerima?"

"Huh?"

"Those show biz people gotta move around, t'stay in business. They have to go where the money is, and they don't stay in one town without a reason."

I shook my head. "Haven't a clue," I admitted.

"There's no way about it. She is after something, and if she is being influenced by her violent self, it cannot be good," Cologne said, in that thoughtful, leathery voice of hers. She pierced me once again with a steely eye and added, "If you want to save her, you'll have to stop her. That means you'll have to fight her."

I gulped, "Me?"

"It has to be you. She seems to be drawn toward you. And, when you fight, you have to go all out. No holding back, or she'll lose whatever humanity she has won. Like I said, she has to be stopped."

"And ya gotta watch out for her power," Ranma added. "She can knock a hole in a steel door with one punch."

I gulped again, liking their solution less and less. "Any suggestions?" I asked.

Cologne looked me up and down. "Don't be a door," she offered.

End: Chapter Twelve