Guest Ki: Chapter 17

Visiting

Barry, tired from the all-nighter he had pulled, thought he could get some sleep on the train. The initial problem was getting there.

Mousse, of course, was not fond of the idea of his Shampoo going off into the wilds with Saotome. It took considerable convincing and no little violence to shoo him off in the direction of the Nekohanten. In the process, they relieved him of a kilometer of chain, a few dozen throwing knives, a couple of handfuls of explosive eggs, a double-ended naginata and that damn potty seat he seemed so fond of. The trio finally shouldered their packs and headed down the street toward the station.

Ryoga and Akari went their way at the gate. Barry had not been able to pull him aside to apprise him of the new situation and the Unryu farm was literally in the opposite direction. As they waved their good-byes, Ryoga turned a corner he shouldn't have, but was quickly run down and redirected by Akari. Somehow Barry was sure Ryoga would soon be lost again. Akari was a lovely girl, but there were a lot of problems they'd have to overcome to build a successful relationship. He sincerely believed that Ryoga's wandering was the least of those problems.

Barry took pains to stay between the two girls. Sometimes literally. No need to tempt fate. This resulted in Shampoo hanging on one arm and Akane, the other. Had it been Ranma, he would ordinarily have been hit, kicked, malleted or punted by now. Barry didn't elicit the same responses except under special circumstances; for example, a few extremely Ranma-esque insults. But Akane had changed in one particular way since Barry's arrival. She now considered herself to be part of the competition for Ranma. Barry found himself in an unenviable position.

"You realize you're just making it harder for Ranma to walk, don't you?" Akane sniped.

"Pervert-girl let go anytime!"

"I'm only holding on to steady him from your unbalancing influence!"

"Shampoo? Akane? Play nice or I'll make sure you both have something better to do!"

Akane face-faulted, but Shampoo grinned wickedly. "What?" she asked innocently, from beneath fluttering eyelashes.

"Not that!" he shouted, flustered.

"Ranma Saotome." The name was uttered as one would a curse. With loathing, as if some unspeakable slimy thing had been hauled from under a rock to create a foul stench. There were few of Ranma's enemies who would not wish him all the agonies of the netherworld, but this had the special edge unique to a particular individual.

"Hiya, Kuno," Barry said with false cheerfulness as he turned with the two girls. He had been so busy playing referee that he had not been paying even normal attention to his surroundings. As his eyes swept Ranma's oft-times adversary, he did a double take. Kuno? Dressed in a three-piece suit and without his 'toy sword'? The world must be ending. "Hey, nice duds, man," he added after he recovered. "What's the occasion?"

"I am not here to discuss my sartorial excellence with you, Saotome," the young man replied, affronted. "Indeed, what advice you might offer would be…"

Barry cut him off. He sought for Ranma's memories of how Kuno had been dealt with in the past. It was unlikely the kendoist would attack without his preferred weapon and with that in mind, his only other interest was two particular young ladies, both present, sort of, and neither of them a Chinese Amazon. "Never said I was an expert, freshman," Barry drawled.

"How dare you!" the young man snarled. "I graduated…"

"An' now yer a freshman, ain't ya? Or didn't ya make the cut for college?"

Kuno glared at him for a moment his lips working silently. "I have delayed my attendance in the halls of academia for personal reasons," he explained coldly. "But that bears little on my present concerns. Saotome!" He seemed convulsed by an inner struggle. "What are you to Akane Tendo?" the fruitcake shouted, pointing dramatically at the dark-haired girl beside Barry.

"I dunno. Akane, tell me," Barry said, looking sideways at the girl, "what do I look like?" Akane drew back blankly, wondering what he was up to. She had been concentrating on Kuno, almost hoping he'd make a grab for her and give her an excuse to try her new skills.

"Huh?" was her best response.

"No! No!" exclaimed Kuno. "Not… Arrgh! Saotome, I would smite thee had I the means at hand!" He turned his glare briefly at Shampoo who was having a bad case of giggles at his expense before refocusing on the pigtailed figure. "You spent weeks alone in the woods with Akane Tendo; deny it not! You mean to tell me that she is still unsullied?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Barry answered, eyes glinting dangerously. He knew just how hard it was from day to day for Ranma to control himself in order to keep Akane safe. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akane go pale at the accusation. "Not everyone lives down to your standards, ronin-Kuno." Barry switched completely over to ki-sense to have a full hemisphere of awareness. This conversation was disintegrating. Sword or no sword, it looked like violence was going to be committed by someone.

"OHOhohohohohoho, ho-ho! I doubt he had much to tempt him, brother, dear." Kodachi arrived to stick her nose in the confrontation.

"Like you'd know, you fruitcake," muttered Akane.

"Oh, Ranma, I've been waiting for weeks and weeks and weeks to see you!" Barry recoiled. The girl's advent on the scene had stopped the march toward mayhem but was hardly a welcome interruption. The voice he recognized. Her ki signature was horrifying.

He switched back to normal vision to see Kodachi dressed in an attractive, form-fitting, black silk pants suit advancing toward him with an armload of black roses. To the eye she was delightful; slender, a striking face made more so by artful makeup, though far too sophisticated for someone only seventeen. To ki senses, however, she was a maelstrom of pain and hunger. Her ki was centered, though how he could not imagine. Its aura, though not perceptible to the naked eye, seemed to leak into her surroundings like a poisonous gas. Where its influence met another object the object became, at least temporarily, warped and chaotic from near contact. No wonder everyone felt creepy when she was around. She practically projected madness like a bio-weapon.

Barry shook his head in dismay. "My god Kodachi!" he exclaimed, though in a whisper. "Who or what has done this to you?"

The Black Rose heard him and halted. She looked down the length of her body and brought out a small mirror with a flick of her wrist. She patted her hair.

"Everything seems to be in place. Oh, Ranma!" she exclaimed suddenly. "You were simply having your little fun. Here! I have gifts for you and all your little friends." She flung the armful of roses with a simple economical swing of the arm.

He had been shocked the night before; that other influences could mask or confuse his ki-vision as it had near the docks. Now, Kodachi unintentionally had hidden the telltale signature of chemicals with her own ki. As they left her influence, he became aware of something nasty on the bouquet, but couldn't tell what. Barry, caught momentarily off guard, moved to intercept the roses. Neurotoxin of some type, he realized as some of the thorns scratched him. Clinically, he noted that ki-sight was not perfect.

He just had time to warn the others. "Something on the thorns! Don't touch!" His muscles locked and he dropped like a plank.

Akane moved in and threw a carefully calculated blow that rocked Kodachi sidewise. Shampoo moved in hands blurring. Kodachi hit the sidewalk with a new hairstyle. Akane's eyebrow perked up.

"Isn't that what you did to me? The amnesia shiatsu hairdo thingy?" she asked. Shampoo nodded keeping her eyes on the downed Kodachi. "By the way, why haven't you tried that again?"

"Special Amazon memory block technique." The Amazon glanced sidewise at Akane. "Only work once. Now Akane remember Ranma, can no use again." She smirked at the sprawled girl. "Should have done long time ago on hyena-girl."

Akane snickered at Shampoo's description of Kodachi — hyena-girl. With the enhanced perceptions she had gained from her training she now realized that Shampoo had not even needed Amiguriken to perform the maneuver.

"I guess we better take Ranma with us," she said, "And for yourinformation, Tatewaki Kuno, it is none of your business whether Ranma and I were doing anything! He is my fiancé…"

"Shampoo no think stick-boy hear pervert-girl."

Akane glared at Shampoo. She waved her hand before Kuno's eyes. There was no response. She noted a single scratch, as if from a thorn, on his neck. With a single finger, she gave bokken-boy a gentle shove. He fell backwards like a board and rattled on the sidewalk before coming to rest.

Akane cocked her head to one side then turned back to the Amazon. "Let's carry Ranma," she said, relieving the Blue Thunder of a shoe and using it to clear away Kodachi's flora. "No telling when he'll come out of it."

"Okay." Shampoo followed Akane's lead. She helped her strip off Barry's pack, which they dropped heavily in his lap. Then, linking hands under Ranma's back and legs, they stood up and carted him away. The looks they got at the station were interesting to say the least.

Japanese mass transit is popular, very popular. They did not get seats right away and had to prop Barry up for the first three stops. In that time period, each girl absently fended off a dozen pinches and gropes. In that same period, since he was stiffened in a crouched position, Barry received a couple gropes of his own from a few female passengers, as well as two pummelings from matronly women who decided he was trying to look under girls' skirts. He could not avoid any of this and worse could feel it all due to the Black Rose's latest paralysis formula.

Desperately, he sought some solution. The first intimation his escorts had, was the sound of music playing from some unseen speaker. Akane looked around wondering where the radio was. She stared at the crouched boy in sudden understanding. "Barry!" she whispered warningly. A large woman who was still standing turned and looked affronted.

"What did you call me, girl?" she inquired frowning. "Did you call me 'beraboo'? (Blockhead)

Before Akane could answer, Shampoo leaned across and smiled sweetly at the woman. "She no call you blockhead. She call boy blockhead! See?" She rapped Barry on the skull, producing a clopping sound. The music also stopped momentarily. The woman turned away again.

"Akane?" Shampoo whispered. "Where music come from?" Akane pointed to their fellow traveler. "How? Why?" Shampoo stared at Barry as if she were looking for an off switch.

"I think Ranma was trying for telepathy or something," she answered not being able to go into the details and therefore explain what had really been attempted. "He did this up in the woods, too."

"Wish airen play other music," she sighed. "This boring."

Barry wished he could groan. They didn't realize that he could still feel. He had an itchy nose yet could not gather sufficient control to even sneeze. He sought around the broadcast bands, finally coming up with an oldie that matched his message.

'Fee-lings… Nothing more than, fee-lings…'

"It getting worse," commented the Amazon. Barry tried again.

"When we're apart, it hurts me so-o…"

"Come on, Ranma," complained Akane, not getting it at all. "Let's have something with some beat if you're going to do that!"

"No! Shampoo want love song. Just not sappy love song!"

'God! They can be so dense,' Barry thought. Still, while he was searching for another musical hint, he accessed a station running what was called 'bubblegum' music over here. He hoped they'd be ready when they ran into Kodachi again. He suspected they'd have to be.

"Curse you, Sasuke! Why is my sister not in custody yet?" Kuno was slowly recovering from the paralytic he had encountered earlier. He scratched gingerly at the lump beneath the bandage on his head. "You should have captured her two weeks ago!"

"I am very sorry, Master Kuno. I can't understand how she manages to avoid my traps. I've nearly used up the roman-ji designations for my attempts." He considered a moment. "Perhaps I should have utilized hiragana instead?"

"Indeed!" Kuno glared at the little ninja. "As if that would have made a difference in the quality of your planning." He looked about the great central hall. It had been built not long after the Meji Restoration and was a mix of traditional and European architecture and furnishings. He had always been proud of its size and grandeur, but lately his pride had been ashes and all he felt was confusion.

"Sasuke, do you know where Saotome, Akane Tendo and that Chinese girl have gone?" Kuno stared out over the hall seemingly disassociated from his query. "They seemed to have left on a long trip and expected to do quite a bit of it on foot." Sasuke sprang immediately to the fore.

"Perhaps they are seeking the Kuonji girl?" he stammered. "The cook from the resort. Ranma has always had a soft spot for…"

"Do not speak to me of that demon's womanizing ways!" shouted the young man, tearing at his hair. "And he daredto call me ronin! As if I could not enroll in any institution of higher learning I desired."

"Master!" Sasuke stood as tall as he could and, with shaking voice, spoke as if reciting a script. "You asked me to remind you that Saotome is not a demon, but simply a skilled martial artist that you disagree with; and that magic is not possible to a reasoning mind."

Kuno's face grew red with rage, which only slowly subsided with deep cleansing breaths. Finally, he said, "Thank you, Sasuke. Keep reminding me of that. It is in accordance with Dr. Hashibara's instructions. If I am to rebuild the Kuno reputation to match our financial status, I must indeed strive to be reasonable."

"I am happy to say whatever you like, Master."

Kuno shot Sasuke a suspicious look. "Your meaning escapes me."

"Everything escapes you, brother dear."

Kodachi Kuno slunk down the main staircase. Sasuke tried to fade into the woodwork as she shimmied up to her brother and regarded him covertly from behind a fan. She seemed to like the hairstyle Shampoo had given her and it complimented her new gown.

"My twisted sister," he bowed. "You look well despite being laid low by a common Chinese kitchen girl."

"Indeed?" she murmured. "The incident you mention seems to escape me." She swayed past her brother and said as she passed, "Did you enjoy my new paralytic, Tachi?"

"I always enjoy experiencing new tortures at your hands, sister," Kuno replied dryly. "It is an exceptional condition to desire to relieve an itch yet be unable to so much as shift position to accommodate act to need. Are you planning on joining us for dinner?" She sashayed to the door leading toward the dining room.

"Would you sit at table with me if I did?"

"Provided you did not touch any food served at my place."

"OHOHOHOHOHOHohohohohoho," Kodachi laughed and hid disarmingly behind her fan. Sasuke fell to his knees holding his ears and tripped a hidden switch.

A two hundred year old harquebus swung and explosively discharged in Kodachi's direction. Nets festooned with sticky strands spread to envelop the woman.

She was no longer there. The nets struck instead a rack bearing samurai armor from the Tokugawa Shogunate and plastered it wetly to a wall. Kodachi finished her aerial flip and landed lightly on her feet.

"Why, Sasuke, I'm impressed. You've been so inventive in entertaining me since I returned home." She tossed him a single black rose, which he caught automatically. Sasuke did a good imitation of a plank.

"You didn't imagine I would be taken off guard by your attempts to institutionalize me, did you?" she said, silkily.

Kuno shuddered. "Now that Sasuke is hors de combat, who shall serve us, mad one?" Kuno looked with displeasure at his still-standing sister.

"I expect I will, brother dear," she answered merrily.

"Then I shall break my fast elsewhere."

"Poor, dear brother," Kodachi said with poisonous pleasure, "once again you dine alone. Has Akane Tendo fled to the arms of another?"

"Be silent, sister."

"Can you not find the pigtailed goddess I hear you moan for in your sleep?"

"Dachi!" Kuno's eyes narrowed and in his personal torment he struck as keenly as he could. "Do you remember the foul sorcerer who beckons to you? Or does his name escape you as easily as did your defeat earlier today?"

"Fear not, brother dear," she gloated back. "It will take considerably more than chemically augmented hypnosis to make me forget my Ranma-darling."

Tatewaki Kuno's jaw clenched in rage. As one sibling stamped out, the other's shrill mad laughter echoed through the enormous empty halls of the House of Kuno.

And somewhere south and west of Tokyo:

"Ryoga? Ry-OOOO-Ga! Where are you?" A huge pig commiserated with its owner as she wept tears of frustration.

And somewhere far north of Tokyo:

"Is Ranma better now?"

"I'm fine, Shampoo. Now are ya checkin' the edges? We want to find where Ukyo went off the road." Barry caught her hand and restrained it from its southward path.

Shampoo snuggled up against the lithely muscular form of Ranma Saotome as they marched down the road from the resort. That Ranma's spirit was in hiding or gone, replaced by the spirit of a happily married, American horse trainer was a fact of which she was unaware.

On the other side of the young man was a dark-haired beauty glaring daggers at them both. Had Ranma Saotome been present instead of Barry Barlowe, serious pummeling would have ensued long before. Akane was in a bit of a quandary. She was having difficulty competing with Shampoo over Barry, yet refusal to compete risked giving the Amazon the impression she had a clear field with Ranma.

Barry was beginning to reach the end of what he believed to be an abnormally long fuse. Ranma's body was as hormone-laden as that of any teenage boy. Barry's mind and habits of late, unlike Ranma's, had not been disciplined to abstinence from... certain activities. He had been married almost ten years and now he had a pretty young woman playing sex kitten. He had few options he could exercise to make her stop. All he could do was chant his wife's name under his breath over and over again like a mantra to remind him of where his loyalties lay… (Bad choice of phrase, that.) …uh, what they were.

Akane gradually stopped competing with the Amazon; her knowledge that this was not, in fact, Ranma interfered with her competitive spirit. Barry didn't want her duplicating Shampoo's tactics (God, no!), but would have appreciated it if her rival were kept more distracted by Akane's barbs. Shampoo was less likely to grope if her mind was busy countering Akane's insults.

"We not there yet," she answered pouting as she removed her hand from his grip. "Remember old man say she on road still at bend. Bend coming up soon. Then we search." She snuggled again. "Till then…" (BAM!)

Akane launched Barry ahead to where the bend began. She stepped back, smirked at the fuming Shampoo and set off merrily along the road. The Amazon was forced to follow muttering under her breath.

Barry picked himself up off the road. That had been a painful but welcome interruption. He could understand why Ranma put up with Akane's violence. It helped him avoid embarrassment and all sorts of other complications. Akane reached him first.

"Thanks, tomboy," he muttered. She gave him a look that said he was crazy. "If a cold shower is unavailable depend on Akane to provide." The look she gave him said instantly that she had taken his words totally the wrong way. 'Damn!' Now she was going to mope along imagining he had accused her of being totally un-sexy and there was no way to correct the misunderstanding with Shampoo coming up.

"Okay," he said defeated for the moment. "Now let's set up our search pattern."

"No need," said Shampoo matter-of-factly. "Only one place spatula-girl get off road without crawling through bushes." She pointed. "There; trail on left thirty meter down road."

"Why didn't ya tell us on the way up?" snarled Barry frazzled by how the trip had gone thus far.

"Not hear before how far people see spatula-girl come down road. Not know what best place to look. Maybe spatula-girl go all the way down get on train, get lost later! How Shampoo know how spatula-girl think!" She started crying. Akane glared daggers at him.

Barry had no idea whether this was an act or serious emotion. What he did know was that he had jumped the gun and let his temper get the better of him. This wasn't his day. If it had been up to him, he would have taken a moment to assure Akane what he meant earlier. If it were up to him, he would hold the sobbing girl till the tears subsided. If it were up to him, Ranma would be here instead of him. Both choices would be out of character for Ranma and dangerous given the girls' opposing goals. After searching for an appropriate response, he settled for hovering an arm's length away and trying to comfort long distance.

"Aw, c'mon, Shampoo! I-I didn't mean it. I'm just worried 'bout Ucchan… C'mon, don't cry! Shampoo-OO!" She turned and lunged into a glomp anyway, forcing him to push her away or accept it passively. As Akane's face went dark again, he wiggled his eyebrows rapidly and mouthed 'HELP!' at her.

Akane's face twisted alarmingly giving Barry a bad scare before he realized she was trying not to laugh. "Shampoo," Akane asked in a conversational tone. "What would Cologne say if she saw you crying like an ordinary girl?"

"She say, 'Good job get Ranma hold Shampoo', pervert-girl."

"Grrr!"

"On that note let's get moving down the trail," Barry suggested. "We've got to keep moving. C'mon keep moving. Akane, let's keep moving!"

Once they began tracking, Shampoo's pride in her skill kept the distractions at a minimum. Barry found that between Ranma's experience and his own training from scouting that he could pick up some of the signs once Shampoo pointed out what to look for. Akane, unfortunately, felt like a fifth wheel.

They quickly found where Ukyo had spent her first night. At one point, her trail passed only fifty meters below the road that led to the town. Her track wandered drunkenly but tended to spiral counter-clockwise. They began using a strange technique that neither Barry or Ranma had ever seen before; as one tracker followed the immediate trail, the other would range out ahead trying to cut the trail as much as a hundred meters further on, leapfrogging large sections of meandering tracks. Even for three hard-trained martial artists, it was exhausting work. On the plus side, by day's end, Akane was beginning to pick up the rudiments of tracking.

Akane offered to cook, soliciting severe criticism from Shampoo. Barry felt the need to support Akane in this instance, but reminded her of the camp rules they had set at the lake. She managed to produce a savory chowder that even Shampoo admitted was better than merely edible.

After dinner, Barry made Shampoo sleep in the tent, claiming that she would cause all sorts of trouble if it rained and she turned cat. He also hoped this would reduce the chance of having her crawl in with him. As they settled down, he found he couldn't sleep, so he sat cross-legged and called forth his ki to investigate further the medium that defined him and might be the key to restoring his host.

Mere seconds later, a pinpoint of light danced between his open palms. This was the simplest manifestation. He had found that ki was undetectable to the unaided eye. Ki manifestations, either as an aura or a point source, were detectable only through how they, in turn, affected available electromagnetic or alternate energy forms.

When Ranma or Ryoga, or Barry in this instance, performed their trademark ki-blasts, they spun the manifestation of ki into a ball that interacted with electromagnetic energy, hence the visible aspect. Typically, as they fired it off, they formed a 'similar charge' at the surface of their hands, repelling the ki and aiming it as best they could in the direction they wanted it to go. Barry had been certain they did not lose the ki 'projected' this way and had originally thought they were firing balls of plasma. Even the new techniques hadn't really shaken that impression.

Ranma's disappearance had shaken him. If ki techniques didn't lose ki then Ranma wasn't gone. Hidden, maybe, but not gone. But Barry was also trained in scientific method. The answer might be other than what he expected. After all; Barry was here, Ranma might be 'gone' somewhere else. If so, their quest was not a search, so much as a recovery operation, requiring methods of locating, contacting and reattaching Ranma to his body. But the key to it all, still seemed to be ki. He focused, hoping to achieve better understanding.

With a flick, he sent the baseball-size globe of energy into the night sky. Barry felt for his ki focused in his hand and altered it slightly, yang to yin, to become attractive to the energy he had released. High in the night sky, a dimming star suddenly swelled and raced toward him. He changed his ki again and repulsed the sphere, which went crackling off among the trees. Dissatisfied, he repeated the experiment until he had the sphere of energy moving back and forth in the air like an insane yo-yo.

He became aware of the two young women watching him covetously and not because he wore Ranma's body.

"You did say you would teach me some ki-techniques," Akane reminded him. They both flinched. Ranma had promised…

"But I…" The problem was that Ranma had not decided what to teach Akane. Barry did not want to step on Ranma's toes or set up a situation where the young man was put in competition with himself. Especially since this was a field where, because of his special nature in this world, Barry just might excel Ranma. He blinked a thought forming.

"All right," he said distantly. He looked over to where Shampoo lay on her bedroll in the tent. "You interested, too?" He flinched as he felt Akane look daggers at him.

Shampoo sighed. "Shampoo no can do ki-techniques. Shampoo only use ki in body and etheric way. Okay for self-power; help jump, help hit harder, faster, help heal fast. But Grandmother say Shampoo never fight like airen with ki."

Barry frowned. That was surprising. He couldn't imagine how that could come to pass. Ki was… ki; at least in terms of himself. Of course, he also had no idea what she meant by etheric either. Still, as a girl, she should actually find it much easier to manipulate her ki. It was harder for a girl to project yang ki than it was for a male but that didn't matter so much with respect to emotion driven techniques like the Mouko Takabisha or the Shishi Houkudan.

"It's the same gag as that crying earlier," hissed Akane, kneeling down beside him. "Don't pay any attention to her."

Shampoo sniffed derisively but did not move from the tent.

"Okay," Barry said feeling very much in the middle. "Lotus position, Akane. Cleansing breaths, re-laaaaaax! Breeeee-eathe. That's right. Cup your hands in front of you and bring them together. Imagine there is something in the hollow between your hands. Feel it roll gently as you move your hands a little up and down… left and right… feel that something begin to grow like a flower opening from a bud…"

Shampoo watched with increasing jealousy as Akane slowly became entranced by the murmur of Ranma's voice. Was it her imagination or did Ranma sound more mature and better spoken as he taught? And he had offered to teach her, something he had never done before. She wondered how Ranma would differ in teaching technique from her grandmother. She had to admit she liked listening to his voice better… With a yawn, she drifted off to sleep.

Every time Akane began to give into her frustration Barry would sense it, call a break and discuss what she had done and how she might improve. It was so very different from how Ranma taught her at the lake that the lack of progress was beginning to aggravate her.

"By the way," Barry whispered conversationally. "Shampoo's asleep, so I want to apologize for how I sounded back there on the road." Akane sat there blinking, trying to make what he was saying fit in with the ki training she was attempting. She had forgotten the incident, shoved it aside as she had so many of Ranma's insults. His words had no meaning to her. "What I said about the 'cold shower'?" Remembering, she flushed anew in anger at the unjust words. As she sought for the proper response, he took the wind out of her sails. "What I meant was that you knew how to get me back on track and you had your priorities straight," he chuckled quietly. "You're a very special lady, Akane, and don't you ever forget it."

In a way, it was a tiny epiphany for her. She had been sure he meant that she was horrible enough to… But he really meant… Did that mean Ranma…?

As she pondered, he shifted on his seat and was suddenly all business again. "Now most of the ki techniques you're familiar with are fueled by emotion. But emotion can be undirected and distracting. And dangerous, by the way, if what Ranma told me was right. The Mouko Takabisha uses focused confidence or, if it amuses you, arrogance which Ranma has in abundance. Ryoga uses depression for his Shishi Houkudan, which I can't believe is very healthy for him. Ranma and Ryoga's ki-techniques are powered by one particular layer or aspect of their aura. What I see when I'm using my ki-vision, are seven distinct and complicated layers that are separate from yet give support to, the others…" Barry drifted off, thoughtful. "If we ever have time to sit down and study…" He paused again. Study…

"I'm confused." Akane grumbled impatiently.

"Right!" Barry agreed, coming back to the matter at hand. He had the glimmerings of an idea, but wasn't ready to voice it, yet. "So let's ignore all that and simply help you feel your own aura and ki for now."

They kept it up for an hour, till both were yawning like mad.

"I'm just not getting it," Akane whined, depressed.

"Okay," Barry yawned, jaw cracking. "Give me your hands a second."

"What?"

"Your hands." He reached out, captured them and turned them palm up with his own hands beneath. "Now, calming breaths…"

She started to and it turned into a yawn, but finally she got a rhythm going. She felt her eyelids droop as the calm murmur soothed her. Almost, she dropped off to sleep.

There was a tiny spark of light between her hands. She stared awed, almost forgetting to breathe. She suddenly realized that Barry wasn't even there. He was rolled up in his sleeping bag as if nothing was happening. She felt like kicking him. Darn it! Wasn't someone going to wake up and notice this? Anybody? She was so-o-o tired…!

"Pervert-girl sleep funny!"

Akane awoke with a snort. She had fallen asleep in the lotus position and had folded over like some strange origami. She was horrendously tired and stiff and her legs were asleep. She had rarely felt so miserable in her life. She groaned and looked daggers at the chipper Shampoo who was preparing breakfast.

Suddenly she jerked upright, alert and wondering. Had she really done it? She tried to settle back in a relaxed posture but suddenly had a muscle cramp from being in one position too long. She groaned again in real pain now and tried to straighten her legs.

Barry was beginning to wake up. He suddenly felt breathless for some reason. Something was blocking his…!

"PHYAMPU! GEFOFF!" He thrashed sending the Amazon flying away from the lip-lock she had initiated. "Don't do that! I couldn't breathe!"

Shampoo managed (barely) to look hurt, a difficult proposition when she was also openly gloating at Akane who looked as if someone had turned her into the human pretzel. Barry wiped his mouth with the back of a hand as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"What happened to you, tomboy?"

"GRRR! Why'd you let her kiss you?" she snarled at him.

"I was asleep?"

"That's no excuse! What if she… What if she…"

"Yes?" He was a little puzzled by where this was going. Shampoo was apparently not at fault for Akane's condition. As for the kiss, he didn't know what Akane was upset about. Shampoo was a lousy, definitely inexperienced, kisser. Oh, she knew all the visual cues that women use to gain a man's attention, but it was obvious from that single contact that she was far less experienced than most women her age. Only practice would cure that; with an unresponsive Ranma as her target she was unlikely to improve anytime soon.

"Well… you know!" Akane finished, blushing.

Barry raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was too early yet, but he wasn't connecting. He held out a hand and helped her to slowly straighten up and grimaced when she couldn't.

"Down on yer stomach," he commanded. "Over there on the bedroll."

Hissing in pain, she complied. Beginning at the nape of her neck, he began to knead the muscles down along her spine. "How'd ya get in this mess, Akane? I thought ya was headin' off ta bed."

"I got it!" she grunted as he hit a particularly sore spot. "I saw the spark! HHHhhhah!"

"Sorry." He probed more gently at the knot behind her shoulder. "That's great. It should be easier…" A pair of legs planted themselves with some authority just in front of them. Barry looked up.

"What you do?" Shampoo looked belligerent.

"I'm massaging her muscles, Shampoo. I think she fell asleep practicin' callin' out her ki." Shampoo continued to stand there glaring. "Shampoo, ya ain't my wife! And if my wife was gonna complain because I was helpin' someone hurtin', I'd give 'er an earful! So back off!

(SPLOOSH!)

"Oh, that was mature!" Barry was a petite redhead once more. "I have half a mind to return the favor."

"Won't!" Shampoo said smugly, turning away with a saucy swing of her hips. She knew Ranma feared her cat form.

Barry didn't though. It was a true effort not to get up and dump the remaining cold water in the canteen over her head. Teeth grinding, Barry got back to the business of working out the knots and soothing the strained muscles in Akane's body.

They broke camp after a hurried breakfast and started out again. Barry remained in girl-type, which seemed to discourage Shampoo from overt attentions. Once again her pride in her skills overcame her desire to flirt and torment and they followed the tortuous path of the missing girl. They stopped briefly for a midday meal and Barry listened to Shampoo explaining why it was more reasonable that she return to boy-type. She had several good reasons.

Barry didn't change though. She had far less trouble with either girl, AS a girl. Her pack wasn't that heavy, after all. At the rate they were going she believed they were gaining a day on Ukyo for each day they were on the trail. Provided she didn't run into civilization and rescue herself, they'd catch up with her in just a couple more days.

Ryoga trudged through the woods. He hadn't meant to get lost; but there you were. He never meant to get lost. As he walked along he absently ran his hand over his bamboo umbrella. He could feel the ki flow from his body to the innocent looking tool.

He had been amused by Barry's theory that their ki techniques were not, literally, ki techniques at all. Perhaps Barry was correct with respect to Ranma's techniques, but Ryoga's own were quite different. Perhaps that was why he had been so hesitant to allow Barry to read him and offer advice.

His umbrella, for example. A lot of people suspected he lined the thing with steel plate. The reality was quite different. He soaked it in the energy of his body, his own ki. The result was a weapon that in his hands weighed no more than one or two kilograms but, in terms of inertia, was equivalent to over one hundred kilograms with respect to anything and anyone else.

Most weapons he had contempt for. If disarmed, your own sword, gun, club, what-have-you could be turned against its owner. His was a truly personalized weapon that only he could use. His bandannas and belt were much the same. Out of his hands, they were useless bits of cloth and leather. Unlike the umbrella, he charged them as needed, however.

He was so involved in his musing that he didn't see the obstacle until he had tripped over it. He hit the ground hard and rolled, bringing the umbrella up defensively. No one attacked. He sat up and looked around. A glint in the leaves allowed him to discover his attacker, a length of shiny steel bound with leather strips. Curious now, he pulled on it, but found it was tangled in the brush and roots of the trees he had passed between.

When he finally freed it he found he was looking at one of a mega-spatula like Ukyo Kuonji's. Whistling, he spun it like a baton and examined it for damage. He had been on the receiving end of one of these more than a few times. To his eye, it was straight and true and only a little dirty. He figured it was made of stainless steel to be so unaffected by the elements. A meter and a half in length and the paddle nearly a square meter in surface area, it was a heavy and powerful weapon.

If he found himself back in Nerima, he'd stop in at Ucchan's and see if it was hers. He slid it onto his pack where he stowed his umbrella and set off again. Briefly he wondered if Ukyo had some trick for lightening the heft of her weapon. Oh, well. If she did, it would be a technique sealed to her okonomiyaki-style martial arts.

Whistling tunelessly, he wandered on, intent on bringing his umbrella back up to the standards he expected of his main weapon.

A few hours later he came to a clearing. Looking up at the sky, he determined that there were still a few hours till nightfall, but the place was so perfect he decided to pitch camp early and make a hot meal. He made a fire and set up a hefty crossbar of green wood to hang his pots from. From his pack, he drew out a thermos. Opening its pop-top, he sipped briefly at the water inside.

He made a face. The water was only tepid. He doubted it would change him back in an emergency. He emptied that thermos and another into a pot, put a lid on it, and checked what he had for cooking.

Into a second pot, he poured cold water from his water sack and when it was boiling, dropped in two bouillon cubes and a handful of noodles. He refilled his thermoses and set that pot aside to cool.

He wondered where he was. It didn't matter really. He'd ask when he ran into someone. When his beef noodle soup was ready, he poured himself a mug and leaned back to think and eat. He had a lot on his mind lately. Akari, of course. She had tried to change herself for him once before, when she attempted to learn to hate pigs. He had tried more recently to learn to like pig farming. Neither had worked. What came next was anyone's guess.

Maybe he could finish his schooling. His house was on the border of the Furinkan district. Ranma might be willing to help him get to classes like he had at the all-boys school. If Barry was around for a while, he might see about his style of ki attacks. They looked interesting and it wouldn't do to let Ranma think he was gaining ground on his former rival. He had too swelled a head as it was.

Movement in the underbrush caught his attention. It was noisy whatever it was. He stood up quickly but silently. It was either clumsy or big. When in doubt you worked with the worst case. It charged out of the bushes and rushed aggressively to the center of the clearing. Wild looking, in tattered clothes, it appeared to be part of the forest come to life. Its wild cry echoed in the long shadows of the oncoming night.

"Where the hell am I?"

Ryoga couldn't help a snort of surprise at the words he had so often screamed at the sky himself. The figure turned snarling and feral. It had heard him. As he set himself for possible combat something familiar made him look again.

"Ukyo? Is that you?"

Tattered, starving, Ukyo took three staggering steps toward Ryoga, staring madly as if seeing a ghost. He caught her as she swooned. She wasn't totally unconscious, however. He heard her mutter savagely, "Of all the people in the world, I find the one guy who's more lost than me!"

"You're welcome," he replied sarcastically. He picked her up and gently moved her over to the fire. "Want some soup?"

She had nothing further to say.

Ranma looked up at the roof of the riding arena for the second time in five minutes. His thoughts were a whirl of panic, embarrassment, anger and frustration. Buddy, the horse, nuzzled him again. Two jumps, a twist and a stagger-step had been followed by a half spin. Panicked by the cats, Ranma had been unable to adjust. The result had been Barry's body biting the dust again.

"You don' look too goot," Bob said riding by. Ranma groaned and slowly staggered to his feet. Flipping the reins back over the horse's head, he prepared to mount again. He hissed as the first attempt to get his foot in the stirrup failed by several handspans.

"Barry!" Bob's voice snapped with command. "That's enough for today. You jus' get t'rown again, you get on him now."

Barry's employer rode over to the phone and used the intercom to call his daughter to come retrieve Buddy and take him down. Then, he made a phone call. "Yah! You come pick him up before he really hurts himself. He won't stop trying…" Bob laughed as he hung up.

Alexia walked into the arena and took Buddy from him. "Bob, I can take care of…"

"Oh, shut up, Barry," Alexia said acidly. A tall, blond girl, Barry's memories revealed an almost Nabiki-like personality. "Anyone can see you're hurt. It isn't like this is a life and death battle." She took the reins back over the horse's head and prepared to lead him away. "Even Daddy had to take it easy after a horse threw him into a wall a few years ago. You don't have to play macho for anyone here."

"As your employer, I insist you go down and wait for your ride, Barry," Bob added. "She'll be here soon. Take tomorrow off if you need to."

Ranma grumbled and nodded. It felt like a defeat. "You haven't heard the last of me, Buddy," he told the horse as he turned away. He moved to leave the arena, stopping as some cats plumped down in the entrance. "Uh… Alexia?" He hoped his voice didn't sound funny. "Why don't you go ahead of me? I'm going to be taking it slow, anyway."

"All right." She led the way, with Barry trailing a good twenty meters back. As he expected, the cats moved quickly out of the way of the large animal. He followed, evaluating Barry's body in terms of condition, strength, speed and ki ability. Slowly, he lurched down the hill toward the barn.

Conditioning and strength were quite acceptable. Despite Barry's own opinion of himself, they verged on the exceptional. Like Ryoga, Barry's body had been developed along the lines of power and endurance. There was definitely room for improvement in the speed department though. Barry had never competed or experienced training to enhance that facet of his abilities. Horses were not, in his opinion, adequate tests of a warrior's speed.

Stiffly he settled down on the rock beside the main entrance. There were no cats in sight, for which he was grateful. If only this body had the healing abilities… Wait!

The healing ability hadn't been natural to him either. He had acquired it through the patient training of a monk at one of the temples he and his old man had stayed at early on. It had been a mind-game to the six year old, a game of meditation and exclusion, until he found his center and…

Ranma grinned tightly. No time like the present. Besides, until he figured out how he got here, he had nothing better to do.