To be honest I don't know that much about Ranma /2 as a series, but I know a bit. With this in mind if I make some claims that turn out to be not strictly canon then please keep that in mind. If such things do turn up just call it an AU or whatever.

I don't own, so please don't sue.

A Man's Place

'You'll keep the family's honour, son. I know it.'

Mu Tsu sat on his pallet in the dingy hut he called a home, listening to the sound of revelry outside. Nearly sightless eyes stared blankly at the thick glasses that passed through his fingers. Spinning and turning the frames, his hands caressed the sides of the smooth glass listlessly. Finger marks were pocked across the lenses though it hardly mattered. They were only an affectation now anyway. Listening to the loud tribal music pounding outside the hut he kept his mind blank, through no particular effort. He just had nothing worth thinking about. Just like every other day. A year and a half ago Ranma had chosen the girl most of the observers of the little Nerima based drama had expected from the beginning. Mu Tsu's lips lifted slightly, remembering how radiant Akane had looked in her wedding dress. Or how radiant her aura was at least. He couldn't see her, after all. Gradually the rest of the fiancés had dispersed, Ukyo settling at her restaurant, Kodachi doing whatever the hell she normally did when she wasn't stalking the pigtailed martial artist and Xian Pu returning with Ku Lon and himself to the village. And it had been a year since all hope of Xian Pu falling in love with him died.

She was crushed by the Japanese youth's decision and stumbled through her days, paying little or no attention to those around her. He had pursued her for half a year, losing ground and lowering his hopes - from a date, to a conversation, to a single laugh, to a smile and finally just wishing she would acknowledge his existence. But none of that happened. When he talked to her, she stared through him with dull eyes, as if he wasn't even there. After the six months were drawing to a close it had become clear to the near sighted man that the woman he had loved since his childhood barely cared if he was alive. He had withdrawn, no longer seeking her presence and giving her the distance she seemed to so sorely desire. Instead he went to his petty chores and listened to the Amazon women mocking him behind his back, as if being nearly blind made him deaf as well. After his 'work' was done he left for the woods to practice in solitude, honing his techniques as best he could with no guidance.

'Without honour you are nothing!'

It was a difficult life for a man in the villages of the Amazons. Strong men were given positions that allowed them some limited respect, even if most saw them as merely breeders. Weaker men, who could not distinguish themselves as warriors were ignored and treated as slaves, used for petty chores and labour - not respected enough for anything else. And in a society of warriors the infirm… were barely tolerated at all. While not cast out, they depended on the graces of the Amazons around them for charity and aid to survive - qualities not plentiful among the warrior women. Depending on the infirmity the weak and ill were usually expected to die in battle, ridding the family of the shame their existence had brought upon them. Battles between the villages were frequent and the opportunity to die often recurring.

'To an Amazon honour is everything! Even to someone like you.'

Mu Tsu was the exception. Despite his poor vision he had made a capable warrior, surviving battle after battle, lacking it seemed to the women of his village, the good grace and tact to conveniently die. Dishonour fell upon his life as long as he was alive and yet thus far, no one had managed to kill him. Learning the arts of concealment despite his steadily increasing handicap, he would normally have had a place of some status, or as much as a man could have among the Joketzuzoku. But his poor eyesight cancelled that out easily, leaving him tolerated and barely acknowledged among the standing of his village's warriors.

'All Amazons are warriors! And an Amazon's honour comes before all else!'

The music and cheering had gotten louder outside. The celebration was in full swing it seemed. The bouts would begin soon. He would wait in his hut until then though, for his presence would not be appreciated outside. Xian Pu had followed him to his training one day two moons ago. A few months after he had given up she had thrown herself into her work and training under the Elder Ku Lon, suddenly determined to become the leader of the Amazon village. Battle, herb practices and lore were all imparted on her by the Elder, who was at least happy that her great-granddaughter was applying herself to her duties. Despite this she had made no move to find herself a suitor. Mu Tsu had sensed her presence at her arrival and had ceased his practice allowing one last dagger to land solidly in the centre of the target he had drawn on a tree trunk, the circle no larger than his fist and studded with various knives, hooked daggers, dirks and chains. Slipping his glasses on out of habit he squinted at the girl and thought he saw her regard his target for a few seconds without comment. She spoke to him then on Amazon business, just as he had expected her to. There was no other reason to seek him out. The friendship they had claimed in their childhood was gone now, the prejudices of adulthood stealing the innocence of youth.

"The festival of Joketzuzoku is in two moons time. Will you be participating?" She spoke in flawless Mandarin, without the halting problems of her broken Japanese, her voice lilting and soft. He considered saying no. He had no reason to. There was no one he sought to impress, no one whose eye he wished to catch, no one whose notice he wished to gain. Not this year. The woman he had loved was forever out of reach.

'You'll keep the family's honour, son. I know it.'

Tucking his arms into his voluminous sleeves, he nodded silently as he had every year, absently wondering if he was addressing the woman or the tree. The blur he assumed was Xian Pu seemed to hesitate and cock it's head to the side, though it could have just been the branches in the wind.

"There… is someone you wish to impress?" She inquired, curiosity tingeing her voice Ah. His answer then. It seemed that it was indeed her he faced.

"No." He replied, and pulled his hands out of his sleeve, sending two sickles spinning towards his target, the conversation finished. He felt her eyes on him for a while longer, before she melted into the forest and left him alone.

The cheering and shouting was louder still now, the first day of celebration reaching it's mid point. The Bouts. Between the men of different villages, the bouts were for the amusement of the Amazons, who would bet on the outcomes of the fights. Most often entered by young warriors seeking to test themselves against other warriors if they had no standing or men who wished to catch the eye of a desired mate, the fight was to the defeat of the opponent, be it through submission, knockout or death. Mu Tsu could gain no standing from these battles, or any other, so it would seem to many that his reasons were to attract a mate. Many would probably think he was rekindling his attempts to pursue Xian Pu. But his reasons were his own.

A gong crashed loudly, echoing over the village and calling the fighters to the arena.

'You'll keep the family's honour, son. I know it.'

Mu Tsu, stood, only now noticing the blood dripping down his hand from where he had crushed his glasses. Dismissing the pain he cracked his knuckles open, letting the remains of his shattered lenses fall to the floor. Stepping around the debris he pushed aside the curtain to his hut with his injured hand, reaching into a belt pouch for a bandage with the other. Extending his limited ki senses as he exited the shack he felt the auras of the spectators swirling around him in currents and eddies. The annual celebration of the Amazon tribes lasted a week and brought together all seven villages of the Amazons. Rivalries and feuds were put aside, leaving the week for revelry and relaxation. A sea of tents had sprung up outside the village walls to accommodate the visitors to the Elder Ku Lon's tribe. It had often been a wondrous sight to the much younger Mu Tsu.

What was honour?

The happily chattering voices of the women dimmed slightly as he stepped outside, taking in his appearance, gauging his worth. Whispering about his white eyes. Soon after his return to China, his gradually worsening eyesight had finally failed almost completely, leaving his physical vision a blur of colours and the last of the colour in his eyes drained to milky white. To all intents and purposes he was blind. The power of his ki could give him vision of a kind, though his stamina soon ran dry and left him lost once again. If it did not last the duration of the bout then he would be forced to forfeit. He could not fight what he could not see. Stepping through the crowds he approached the ring in the centre of the spectators, lashing out his ki in pulses, to illuminate the scene around him so he could find his way without to much difficulty. He reached the ring without stumbling.

Did being born 'imperfect' mean he had none?

Emerging from the crowd he 'saw' the pedestal upon which the Elders sat, with their apprentices knelt at the bottom, directly beneath them. Ki vision was imprecise so it was impossible to tell if Xian Pu was looking at him, though he did feel someone's eyes upon him. He chose to ignore the feeling, reasoning that many people were watching him. There was no reason to single one out. The whispers behind him were clearly audible, the women obviously not taking the time or effort to keep themselves quiet. Mu Tsu remained silent and stood, hands tucked into his sleeves, long since tired of reacting to old taunts and critiques. They never stopped no matter what he did

anyway, so anything he did would be a waste of his time.

Did he sully his family's honour simply by living?

Two men stepped into the ring together, since there was no set order of formulae to the matches. If Mu Tsu hadn't been momentarily distracted by the murmurs behind him he would have stepped in first, to end this as fast as possible. He had no desire to be here among people who though him less than human for longer than he had to be. Determined to be in the next battle he sent out regular pulses of ki to watch the fight, though it had quickly devolved into a grappling match on the floor and Mu Tsu could see little distinction between the two intermingled auras. After a while on the auras jerked suddenly and a loud crack echoed across the village, even over the chatter and cries of the watchers. While the victor climbed to his feet Mu Tsu stepped forward, paying little attention to the man with the broken neck lying in the dust. There was nothing he could do for the man now.

His opponent followed his example a second later, stepping into the far side of the make shift arena ringed by the Amazon audience. He seemed tall, taller than the blind warrior. Mu Tsu pulled out a variety of dirks and daggers hoping to make this match quick so that he could retreat to his home while he still had his ki vision to guide him. His opponents aura flickered between the thrown knives and appeared in front of him abruptly, before an inferno of pain blossomed in Mu Tsu's stomach. Gasping and coughing up blood, Mu Tsu stumbled to the side and then to the floor on his knees, feeling the dagger his enemy had snagged out of the air being pulled free from his stomach as he fell. Strength was draining from his limbs and he curled over, around his deep wound instinctively, waiting for the second blow to finish him. It had happened so suddenly. The second blow never came and he allowed himself to collapse completely, succumbing to the sweet darkness unconsciousness promised.

Consciousness floated in and out of his tenuous grasp, eluding him when he sought it, and forcing itself upon him when he wanted respite. Blind eyes saw nothing but nonetheless he felt a person sitting next to him as he lay in bed. When he blinked the light had dimmed and the person was gone. He blinked again and it was another day and another person in his room.

"I'd hoped you would kill me, y'know?" The man spoke, his voice deep and Japanese. He shifted. "You beat one of their women, then suddenly they're all hunting you down cause you have to marry her. And when you do you become a second class citizen. A slave breeder. Tch." The man walked across the length of the room to lean on the opposite wall. "This is what my honour has come to… Seeking a death in battle for respite. This… this is not the way a man should live. If my master saw me now… He turned, seeming to address the motionless Mu Tsu. "How do you do it? Does it not chafe you? Don't you get tired of being treated like dirt, just because you're a man? I can't put up with it anymore, man. I can't escape, believe me I've tried, and my now only purpose in life is to make babies and fight. That is not a life and my honour will not allow me to live this way. So I fought, and hoped you would kill me. Looks like you must pay the price for my hopes…" Mu Tsu tried to answer, but he blinked and found his room empty.

Was this how outsiders saw them? Would Ranma have eventually sought death, had he been forced to a life amongst the Amazons? Mu Tsu's thought were slow and hazy and despite being sightless his eyes ached. He blinked, hoping to relieve the pain and opened them again as a 10 year old child looking up at his father.

It was dark outside the house and the only light the two of them had was a single candle between the two of them, it's flame dancing and throwing capering shadows over the walls. His father's beard rose slightly with his cheeks into a smile as the tall man looked down at his son.

"This is not the world I would have wished you borne into, my son. A world where you will be scorned for who and what you are. No… I would have wished for you a world where you could be proud of what you are.. strong and true… able to hold your head up high. Can you understand me, my boy?" Mu Tsu wondered why there was tears in the older mans blue eyes. Daddy never cried. "I know you will be a fine warrior, a fighter so great you will make these women see you as an equal. I place all my hopes in you, my son…. And I wish for you nothing more than happiness." A wizened old woman entered the room startling Mu Tsu. Perched on top of a cane she stared down at the boy with large and ancient eyes and the life seemed to leech out his father.

"It is time, Fei Long." The old woman said, her voice the creaking of old wood and the crackling of crushed parchments. The man stared at her and nodded haltingly. The turning away from the woman he reached out an enveloped his son in his arms, holding him tightly as if he never wished to let go. After an age, he set Mu Tsu down again and smiled through his tears. Standing he faced the small elder and gestured for her to lead the way. Making no gestures of acknowledgement she turned and hopped out the door. The man followed her, whispering under his breath to the child he left sat on the floor.

'You'll keep the family's honour, son. I know it.'

The small boy opened his mouth to call for his father and blinked. The room was bright now and far different from the small hut he had been in a few moments ago. The Tendo dojo was brightly lit and a warm summer breeze was wafting in through the door, where he stood in the shade watching the dark haired martial artist running through kata's like flowing water.

A wedding ring sparkled in his hand. Mu Tsu shifted his weight, readjusting the multitude of holsters and slings he kept filled with weapons inside his robes.

"Why are you so insistent on fighting her battles for her when you know how much it irritates her?" Nabiki Tendo asked irritably from the outside the doorway. Ranma paused, his foot extended in a snap kick and the position held flawlessly.

"Whaddya mean?" Mu Tsu sighed.

"Ranma, Akane is a capable girl. She is able to take care of herself against fighters of there calibre quite easily. Why do you insist on getting involved?" Kasumi continued, with her usual infinite good humour and patience. Ranma frowned darkly.

"Those jackasses were harassin' my wife." He declared hotly, following the statement with a leap and a sharp heel drop, sending little beads of sweat dancing across his brow.

"But why did you get involved? Didn't you think she could handle herself?"

"Of course she can! She could have taken those idiots down with one hand." Ranma didn't slow his movements as he spun and kicked the air ceaselessly. Nabiki groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Then why do you get involved Ranma?" Her annoyance was not abating.

"Cause that's what I'm here for." Nabiki and Kasumi blinked.

"Eh?"

"That's what I'm here for. Akane could kick there asses anytime. But as long as I'm around she won't have to. Dealing with trash like that is my job. Just cause someone can do something doesn't mean they should have to, right?" Ranma's fist came down again, and the practicing youth never saw the look of surprise on Nabiki's face.

Mu Tsu closed and opened his eyes again. The sound of rain thundered on the huts roof, and his blind eyes were open wide in a now useless habit. Someone was sat next to him again, someone different from the other times. He couldn't summon the energy right now for his ki sight, so he just lay motionless waiting for them to do something.

"Your wound has finally closed, boy." Elder Ku Lon's voice cracked next to his ear. "You were delirious for a while, but it seems as if the worst is over. That was foolish boy." Mu Tsu swallowed, listening to the woman speak. "My great granddaughter is out of your reach. Why do you insist on making a fool of yourself?"

"This is not about Xian Pu."

"Then why do you continue to embarrass this village, if not in some fool attempt to woo my great granddaughter?"

"I will not dishonour my family." Ku Lon snorted.

"You still hold to your father's… views, I see. You are a male of the Amazon tribes, idiot child. Your father's concept of honour has no place here. No male's does!" Ku Lon hopped the length of the bed. "You bring dishonour to the village with your attempts to follow in your father's footsteps. He, at least, was a capable warrior." The prone youth heard her voice moving across the room and back again as she spoke, tracing her movements. "He was killed for his trespasses against the Amazons and our ways and traditions. You, boy, don't even have the skills to be more than a nuisance." A soft padding sound heralded the landing of a small object in his lap. "Wear them boy. You need all the help you can get." Ku Lon bounced out of the room, shaking her head with disquiet.

"What day is it, Elder?"

"Not that it matters to you, but it is the last day of the festival. If you can drag yourself to your feet then you can watch the bouts in a half hour." Mu Tsu's hand wrapped around the frames of the new glasses that had been dropped into his lap.

"His eyes are failing, Elder. He will be blind before he is thirty. He will never be a warrior."

"I know you will be a fine warrior."

His fist crushed the glasses, shattering the new lenses as effortlessly as it had the old. Reaching across his stomach he felt the bandages wrapped around his midriff, their gauze harsh and rough under his fingertips. Grunting in pain he levered himself up and forced himself to use the ki sight, ignoring the headache it brought on. His robe was hung up by the door, Stumbling over to it he slowly inched it on, groaning with pain as the heavy armoury settled about his thin shoulders. Staggering slightly he ignored the sudden violent twinges of pain in his abdomen and brushed the curtain aside. The cold rain beat against his face, instantly freezing his skin and leaving it cold and numb, his long hair soon sodden. Slipping in the mud he slowly made his way to the groups of spectators, trying to dismiss the muscle spasms in his weakened underfed muscles. Reaching the crowd, he moved through them, creating a bubble of silence and disdained amusement in his wake. Reaching the edge of the arena he looked about momentarily with his ki vision, noting that there were less spectators this day. Come the end of the festival many had retired or turned to quieter pursuits. Similarly the rain was not encouraging people to leave there homes. Still many came though, of his village and others to watch the last bouts. Completely ignoring the whispers around him, Mu Tsu was the first to step forward when the gong was sounded. He couldn't imagine Ku Lon's face when he did so, but just thinking about it brought a small smile to his face. His opponent stepped into the arena across from him, wielding a bonbori in one hand. The crowd dismissed the bout as of little entertainment considering Mu Tsu's last performance and were amusing themselves with one another.

Both men began. Ignoring the raging pain in his body Mu Tsu's arms blurred, hurling daggers, swords, dirks, scythes, sickles and chains at his opponent, the sheer blizzard of weaponry keeping his enemy on the move and at a distance. Spinning like a top, the blind youth threw maces and morning stars, small bonbori and caltraps, his whole body a blur now. The audience began to pay attention again. The enemies bonbori spun forwards, smashing the onslaught of weaponry out of the way and crushing Mu Tsu's left arm, snapping it like a swig. Biting his tongue to stifle the scream Mu Tsu continued to fling blades with his still intact arm, not sure if the blood he tasted was rising from his stomach or from biting through his tongue. Springing forward he whipped a sword out and dove at his opponent. Ducking under a lunge he rammed the blade up through the man's stomach into his lungs, his body so numb he hardly felt the other blade slip into his body and re-open his old wound. The two men collapsed forward, their bodies holding each other up.

"Thank you… bro…" The man who had spoken to him in his room gasped quietly, before collapsing to the floor at his feet, blood mingling with the mud freely. Mu Tsu sagged to his knees, exhausted and his muscles unresponsive.

Is this what dying feels like?

He heard feet splashing towards him in the mud, but his ki vision had winked out as soon as he had struck, the last of his energy gone. Helpless to stop himself he toppled backwards, leaving him bent over the back of his legs in a position that he knew should have been painful but left him curiously numb instead.

It's not so bad.

Hands cradled his body as his milky white eyes stared up at a cloudy sky he couldn't see. A voice seemed to be calling him but he couldn't make it out clearly. He could only see a tall man with tears in his blue eyes.

"… honour…."

It doesn't hurt anymore.

Ku Lon watched her great granddaughter bury her face into the dead boy's sodden clothes, her tears invisible on the already waterlogged fabric. Xian Pu's sobs tore at her old heart. The girl had really wanted him… and he had never known. Ku Lon closed her eyes and let the rain wash over her face, but only because she was too old to cry. No matter how much hearing her granddaughter murmur the dead youth's name made her want to.

The old woman bounced down the corridor hewn out of rock slowly, one hand on her cane for balance and the other holding a small lamp. Water glistened on the rock as she hopped, the small candle flame slipping and dancing across the slick walls and playing light across the corridor ahead.

Eventually reaching the thick wooden door, the Elder of the tribe settled herself and withdrew a set of ancient rusted keys from her robe. Fitting on into the lock with a loud scraping and a click she twisted before pushing the door so it slipped soundlessly open. Reaching forward she moved the candle ahead of her until it illuminated a figure in rags several sizes too big in the corner of the room. It shifted and wheezed.

"Why Ku Lon…. You hardly visit anymore…." The voice was rough and sharp with disuse, the breath wheezy and stale. "I'd stand, but I don't think I can anymore, please don't take that as a sign of disrespect." She didn't answer. "So, to what do I owe the honour…?"

"….You son is dead." The shifting stopped.

"….Dead?"

"He died in a bout today, during the festival. His opponent was also killed." The candle illuminated bright eyes peering out of the darkness, yellowed by age and illness.

"So…. He died as a warrior?" The voice broke and cracked on the third word and quavered and quivered through the rest. Ku Lon nodded. The figure leant back and laughed haltingly.

"Ha… all this time you've been telling him I'm dead and I still outlive him….ha, ha…" The voice dissolved into a wracked sob, a harsh breath drawn inwards in a weeping groan. " My son…" Tears ran tracks through years of grime and dirt.

After a while the weeping ran silent.

"Why.. why did you never kill me Ku Lon? Why this instead?" Ku Lon blinked.

"Why would we kill you for having a different opinion to us? We are not cruel, Fei Long." The laughing started again, high pitched and barbed, mixed in with the hiccups of the sobs that shook the frail body sat in the corner.

"Oh no Ku Lon…not cruel… never cruel… " The man began to cry again. Ku Lon held her peace for a while before speaking again.

"My great granddaughter-"

"Please Honoured Elder…" Ku Lon stopped. Her nephew-in-law hadn't called her that in a decade. "… take away the light. It hurts my eyes." Ku Lon nodded slowly and withdrew, closing the door behind her and abruptly hating the sharp scraping sound of the key in the lock and the loud click of the bolt sliding home. She wondered if there would ever be a reason to open the door again.

As she hopped back down the corridor to it's exit in the forest a mile away from the village she hoped it was still raining outside again. If that was the case then she could cry again.

Frankly I don't think this was one of my better ones, but it was a story I wanted to try my hand at telling. R&R is still appreciated though and if there's enough demand and suggestions I may come back to it again one day and renovate the thing. As for any who are confused, yes Fei Long is Mu Tsu's father and Ku Lon's nephew-in-law. Which should make Mu Tsu and Xian Pu cousins. But in a tribal society cousins marrying was fairly common and I could still see it happening.