Thanks again to KyLewin for pointing out rather embarrassing ommissions in Chapter 24.

Ki Cutters: 25

The Peers

"So you'll take us on, then?" Hiroshi asked excitedly. Daisuke had a blaze in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You'll teach us martial arts?" They stood just outside the gateway to the Tendo property. A fresh coat of snow had touched up the Christmas card blanket, which had graced the ground, eaves and trees since just before the holidays. It had not remained on the well-traveled roads and sidewalks, which were almost dry. Their breath frosted the air, drifting about their heads like clouds about Mt. Fuji.

"If ya really want me to," Ranma replied. He had originally suggested the idea because of their low spirits following their run-in with the Temple ninja. Besides, as the new Master of Mutsabetsu Kakuto Ryu, combined schools, he had to start somewhere. "I really thought ya might wanna start with Mr. Tendo, though. He has a lot more experience teachin'…"

"Why not you?" Dai asked. Ranma felt a wave of heat pass over him. He reminded himself that Dai was not questioning his judgment, but instead was curious about why their friend would want to have them learn from someone else.

"The truth is, while I may be the best fighter around here, I ain't learned much about teachin' yet." It hadn't been easy to admit that. "I don't want you guys learnin' from my dad 'til I see how he's teachin' these days. There ain't no way I'll let him do to you what he did ta me."

Hiroshi and Daisuke both blanched. Nekoken was not at the top of their list of things to learn. "What about Akane?" Daisuke pressed on. "You taught her, didn't you?"

Ranma shook his head. "Remember, guys, Akane was dan level long before I ever showed up. If I tried to train you guys the way I trained her…" He shook his head. "Trust me. Ya don't wanna go there." He turned, opened the gate and waved them in. "C'mon in. I wanna let ya get an idea what yer in for." He led them to the dojo. Akane and Shampoo were inside doing stretches.

"Hi, guys!" Akane said easily as she leaned sidewise from a split and touched her head to her leg. It was easy to notice that her breathing suffered little from the unusual position. Shampoo had a leg extended before her and the other crooked behind. She had been twisting from her waist, bonbori in her hands, occasionally varying the movement by dipping her body forward or back almost to the floor.

"How do they do that?" Hiroshi asked. Behind him, Daisuke was boggling at the girls. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Nah! They're relaxed, soft muscle work. They're only stretchin' out."

"Are we supposed to do that?" Dai asked.

"Jeez! Not for a while, guys," Ranma laughed. "Ya gotta work up to it. It takes time and a lotta practice ta do that."

"And you've got to be careful," Akane interjected, "You have to push, but not too far or too fast. You can easily get hurt if you misjudge and make a mistake."

Shampoo smiled prettily for Dai. "If you think to train up to fight Shampoo, it one of those mistake." Dai blushed and dropped his eyes. He raised them again and froze in shock, as Shampoo seemed to levitate herself to a standing position. Ranma knew she had used her powerful inner thigh muscles to slide her feet together from her near-split position.

"When do you break our arms?" Hiroshi asked, gulping. The girls hesitated at the comment and wondered if it were directed at them.

"No worry, pervert boy," Shampoo offered cheerfully, "only break arm if get fresh. Okay?"

"Why do you think we wanna break your arms?" Ranma asked, beginning to frown. Had they done something he didn't know about?

"Well…" Hiro and Dai exchanged a worried glance. "Don't you guys break your arms to deaden the nerves and build up stronger bones for when you break boards and bricks and things, or fight someone with a club?"

Ranma looked aghast. "Gaah! No! Like you could learn martial arts from a hospital bed! I'm not Pops!" he protested. "Fer kami's sake, where didja get that idea?"

Akane smirked. Living on the road, Ranma had missed a lot of movies. She'd have to educate him in that, among other things. "That's a myth, Hiro. Do you honestly think my father would put me through that kind of torture? I suppose if you somehow managed to break your arms every centimeter or so, the healing might result in stronger bones… if you didn't cripple yourself in the process." She turned to Ranma and grinned. "That is one of those myths they get from bad martial arts movies."

"Oh," Ranma returned. "What's a bad martial arts movie?"

"Can you really pull a guy's heart out of his chest with your bare hands?" Daisuke asked, ignoring Ranma's confusion. "Or drive a guy's nose up into his brain?"

"Or kill with a delayed touch," asked Hiroshi.

"Huh!" The girls glanced at one another. "Who would want to?" Akane said, disgusted.

"You two very strange." They looked over to Ranma to see what he thought.

Ranma looked thoughtful, scratching the back of his head. "You guys have the wrong idea about martial arts. Of course, my pops had some screwy ideas about martial arts, too. I wonder if he watched the same movies?" They all sweat-dropped. Genma was legendary for the excesses in training Ranma. They all wondered just what else he had tried to do to him. "Anyways, I'm tellin' ya, it's not necessary ta break bones." His grin turned a little nasty then. "That doesn't mean broken bones can't happen in training — just that we won't try to make it happen."

Hiroshi and Daisuke looked relieved then worried. "So, when do we start?"

"You need to get signed waivers from your folks, and you should invest in some white gi and get a white belt to go with it." He almost felt their eyes go to Akane in her yellow gi. "Masters wear what they want, baka. You're beginners."

"Oh." Their eyes shot back to Akane and Shampoo as they began to spar. Soon the two women were tumbling, spinning, leaping, ricocheting off walls and striking with enough force that the impacts were like physical blows to their observers.

"Do you think we can ever get that good, Ranma?" Hiroshi asked wistfully.

"I dunno, Hiro." He jerked a thumb at the girls and then caught a bonbori as it bounced their way. "We've all been training all our lives. It's possible that some of our physical strength and ability to access and use our ki came from…" He struggled for the word.

"Immersion," Shampoo yelled as she rocketed by. "Training soak into martial artist like water in sponge." She rebounded, slipped Akane's snap-crescent kick and went for a hip throw. Akane writhed like a serpent and managed to negate most of the attempt, though it caused a break in the action as both combatants decided to break away and size things up.

"Kami!" shouted Daisuke enthralled. "Were they using ki to do that?"

"Yes and no," Ranma hedged. "When you guys are playin' basketball, do ya use ki?"

Daisuke and Hiroshi exchanged glances. After a long moment, Hiroshi answered cautiously, "Not that I know of."

Ranma chuckled. "Good answer. And probably, most of the time, ya ain't. Accessin' ki depends on mental and physical discipline, and a lot of trainin' and testin' yerself. You guys are gettin' the physical part, but the mental trainin'… Learnin' how to sense your ki through breathing exercises is somethin' you'll have to work on."

Daisuke was rubbing his chin. "You mean like yogurt?"

"Yoga, and don't knock it. A good yogi is a martial artist; so is someone who does tai chi. Why do ya think the Chinese got ticked off at the Shaolin Temples? They did some weird stuff ta hide what they were teachin' but word eventually got around."

"They get too, too famous," Shampoo sniffed turning away from Akane. "Very stupid. They say we do what we want, practice martial arts, we too strong for emperor's men. They make trouble for everybody."

The Japanese looked flabbergasted. "You mean they were trying to overthrow the government?" Akane blurted.

Shampoo shrugged. "Probably not, but they say government cannot tell them what to do. They also teach ordinary people fighting techniques. Even Amazon back in Bayan Hara look and wonder if maybe someone getting ready to try to overthrow Empire. Hardest army to fight is one in own village, where you cannot tell friend from foe." She did a graceful cartwheel that carried her over to the bonbori she had dropped, picking them up as her hands passed over them. "There have been many changes of government that way in past. Beijing and Communist government very aware of it." She stopped where she had started, armed again. "Or you think they beat up students in Tiananmen Square for fun?"

Ranma placed his hands on their shoulders. "Let's go over dojo discipline. Now your gi is supposed to reflect your spirit. Keep it clean and in good repair…"

Much later, Ranma sighed and sat down in the entrance to the dojo. He ran a hand through his hair in abstraction. He had given them the basics of how to be socially acceptable in a dojo and that had been one of the hardest things he'd done in his life. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the procedures: of all social conventions in Japan, those were the ones that were nearly automatic. It was the patience and sense of responsibility he felt for his friends. He needed their approval and respect, if they had been strangers, it would not have mattered. He also didn't want to make mistakes with them. That was why he was dragging Soun into starting them off. Soun had been a major part of Akane's early training and Ranma had confidence in his techniques and common sense. He just hoped Soun would regain his poise. If the Tendo patriarch wimped out and started a crying jag, he didn't know what he would do.

"Don't worry, Ranma, you did great," Akane encouraged him. She sat down on his left and hugged him. He smiled then started slightly when Shampoo sat down on his other side. She didn't hug him, but her closeness made him nervous. He still reacted to any girl that got close as a possible trigger of Akane's green monster of jealousy.

"I miss seeing stars," Shampoo said softly. "In mountains, there not many lights. You can see endless stars. Great-grandmother say it was once even better, before people use electric lights. You could almost reach out and touch the stars. There even an old story about a woman who climb the tallest tree in the world to pick stars like fruit." She laughed and glanced aside. "In old day, we no take husbands." She glanced at Ranma and they both stiffened as they saw the tip of her tongue creep through her lips. She was about to be outrageous. "In old days, Shampoo just borrow Ranma for three months, drive him crazy for while and give him back to Akane-sister."

Ranma suddenly realized he had jumped into Akane's lap. She let him slide off to land with a thump on the ground. "Ow!"

"Don't be such a wimp, Ranma," she said crossly. Shampoo giggled.

"That's not fair, Akane," he complained. "Do you want her to do that to me?"

"Don't worry, dear," Akane said archly. "Once we settle things, I'll get you, drive you crazy, and I won't give you away to anyone."

"Eeep!"

The girls laughed together in a weird sort of shared harmony while Ranma contemplated his fate as a sex-slave. He jumped as Akane patted his shoulder. "Is it so bad?" she asked seriously.

"Let's just say being ogled as a girl is beginning to feel attractive," he answered peevishly. He held her hand against his shoulder to tell her he was joking. A thin icy trickle of water hit him, and seconds later he was gasping and girl and ten meters away from the dojo. "Dammit, Mousse!"

The hidden-weapons martial artist dropped from the eaves and landed beside the girls. "Look at it this way, Ranma. At least I'm not ogling you."

"Mousse," Shampoo growled, "why you do that to Ranma?"

Mousse laughed. "I'm bored I guess. I haven't had a good fight since before Christmas. I was hoping Ranma would oblige."

"Didja hafta 'girl' me, dammit?"

"Maybe you'd like to challenge him in cursed forms, Mousse," Akane said with a frown.

Mousse looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. "C'mon, guys," he whined. "I've been restraining myself for months. Can I help it if I get jealous?"

Akane subsided and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mousse."

"Why blame me, though?" Ranma grumbled. "I didn't do anything."

"Who else can I vent at?" Mousse countered. "I'm not going to attack Shampoo. You wouldn't want me to attack Akane, who deserves it even less. Who's left?"

"Okay, ya made yer point. C'mon in and rumble." Ranma hopped past him into the dojo.

"Thanks, Ranma," Mousse sailed in after her and soon the building resounded to combat. The yells, the heavy blows, the rattle of chain on wood all told of the controlled violence within. Outside, Akane and Shampoo sighed and resumed their seats in the doorway.

"Men," they said together.

"Shampoo?" Akane said after a few moments. "If I had been born an Amazon, what would it have been like?"

Shampoo smiled and tucked her knees under her chin. "Some same, some different. Is Kasumi like your mother?" the Amazon asked. Akane nodded. "My mother like that in house. Not housework —that man's job in village, but attitude to family. Very loving. As little girl, Shampoo was encouraged to run and be physically fit. Mother and father help with teaching, too. Shampoo read basic 500 kanji by time she was five." She grinned then sobered. "Great-grandmother become mother when my mother die. She soon start teaching special techniques. She move in with us and poor father moan like crazy. Great-grandmother much more strict about housework and learning than mother was, but she fun. Because Ling-Ling and Lung-Lung mother still live, have Aunt Jan-Jan as playmate for while. She taller than anyone her age and nearly best fighter in village. Very sad when she leave." Shampoo sighed and ducked with Akane as one of Mousse's weapons, a halberd, came whizzing past where their heads had been. "Had many friends until become young woman and begin Eagle's Dance."

"What's the Eagle's Dance?" Akane asked.

"Is when women who are warriors establish who best in age group. Is what Ranma interrupt when Shampoo on log. Originally called Eagle's Dance because done on cliff trail. Loser fall off to feed eagles." Akane looked ill. "Was not good idea. Lose too many good warrior, that way. Ways change."

Akane was silent for a while. Behind them the dojo shook as a body hit the floor. Rattling chains and running feet were clues the battle had not been resolved. "Are men really second class citizens, Shampoo?" Akane asked out of the blue.

Shampoo squinted back at the battling figures inside, then frowned at Akane. "That not fair," she complained. She shrugged. "Men do not have as many rights as women do. That true. Many of the cultural roles are exchanged, but many are shared. Men cook, clean, maintain house and work in fields. Women always involved in child rearing." She grinned and plumped her breasts, making her friend blush. "Men just aren't very good at that. Women hunt, teach and govern. Men are restricted from learning martial arts or magic from women of tribe. Men can learn from outsiders, but women can deny permission to go outside." She raised a hand to restrain Akane's protest. "Outsider women welcome to visit but not stay unless join tribe. Only can join tribe if accepted by council of Elders, or adopted under Mercy of the Goddesses. Mercy of Goddesses given to orphan children or women running from abusive men. Outsider men have only limited access to villages, as traders during summer months, or as husbands under Kiss of Marriage. Mousse's great-uncle was outsider male. He one who teach Mousse the Hidden Weapons style. That how Mousse is Amazon and also warrior."

"So they really are second class citizens, then?" Akane said archly.

Shampoo sweated. "Well…"

Mousse chose that moment to crash through the wall beside the door. "Dammit, Saotome!"

"You okay, Mousse?" Shampoo inquired. Akane smiled. That was a very different tone from the old Shampoo.

Mousse blushed and struggled to maintain his composure. Taking several deep breaths he got himself under control after offering his lodestar a single brilliant smile. "I am. Thank you for your concern, Shampoo."

Akane frowned as she saw Shampoo's eyes twinkle. "Just worried you too hurt to fix dojo. Get to work, Mousse. You broke, you fix!"

"Shampoo!" wailed the young man, struggling with his glasses. He found an undamaged pair, fit them on his face and blinked at the purple-haired girl. He slumped, disappointed by the expression he saw. Frowning, he stood and strode forcefully back into the dojo. "Saotome!" The sound of chains and the thud of combat rang out again.

"That why men not encouraged to learn martial arts," Shampoo said disdainfully. "Men bad enough when they just brawlers."

A sudden surprised shout caused them to turn about. Mousse stood in the dojo alone. He had a slightly startled but satisfied look on his face. Shampoo and Akane looked left then right, but Ranma was nowhere to be seen. "Mousse, where's Ranma?" Akane demanded. Mousse blinked, laughed self-consciously, then grimaced and doubled over as if in pain. He clutched his robes as light flared.

In an instant, his robes seemed to shred and with a resounding rattle and clatter of metal, Mousse was suddenly buried under a pile of chains and weapons. Sitting astride the weapons, her hair and clothing in disarray, Ranma panted, eyes wide. "Dammit, Mousse!" she screamed, her head twisting around looking for her opponent. "Don't you ever do that again!" After a moment of hyperventilating while the girls boggled, Ranma looked down. "Ah, damn!" She jumped down and started to uncover her opponent, whose arms and head just protruded from the pile.

"What happened?" Akane and Shampoo chorused.

Ranma flinched and grimaced. "He pulled me inta one of his hidden-weapons storage pockets." The redhead shivered. "Gaah! Ya can't see, feel, hear, smell… I let off a ki technique, I'm not even sure what kind, and knocked everything loose, I guess." Shampoo and Akane joined her and quickly uncovered Mousse, dragging him unconscious from the mass of weapons lying on the floor.

"Is Mousse okay?" Shampoo demanded, real worry in her voice. "Mousse?" She grabbed his shoulders, looking like she was going to cry.

"Shampoo?" Mousse mumbled.

"Stupid Mousse!" the Amazon screamed, slamming him against the floor, the dull boom of impact echoing off the walls.

"Shampoo… You care…" Mousse groaned before lapsing into unconsciousness again.

"Aiya!"

oOo

"I can't believe you sometimes," Ranma groused, slipping into the furo after washing off. The transformation was rapid as always. Mousse was already in the tub, bruised and dazed, but beginning to relax in the hot waters. "Why the hell did you stuff me into your pocket?"

Mousse winced. "I didn't exactly intend to, Ranma. I've been working on retrieving my weapons back into hiding instead of discarding them, and I guess you were still tangled up in that hooked chain."

Ranma shuddered. "That was horrible, man! Almost as bad as being thrown in with the ca-cats…"

Mousse frowned at him. "I thought you were over your ailurophobia?"

Ranma grimaced. "I have a harder time when I'm tired."

"How's Akane's gift helping you?"

As if summoned, there was a scratching at the door and Kiku, the calico kitten Akane had given Ranma, came in to join them. "Mrrr…?" She jumped up on the tub edge, picked her way over to Ranma to bump and rub against his head. Mousse gritted his teeth and cringed as Ranma's eyes went glassy. After a moment, the pigtailed martial artist got himself under control. He eyed Mousse's resigned and fearful expression then lifted Kiku over beside the other man. Mousse jerked as Kiku explored his ear with a curious nose. "Miau?"

"Oh, shit, shit, shit…" Mousse whined. Ranma's laugh barked explosively and Mousse's eyes snapped open to regard the kitten, which promptly batted his nose playfully. "Damn you, Saotome…"

"Nice reaction, duck-boy," Ranma grinned. He brought Kiku back to his side of the furo and set her on the edge. She began to purr as he scratched under her chin.

"You were faking?"

"Nah…" Ranma looked at the kitten sadly. "I'd rather be pettin' a poisonous spider, but it's not her fault and I can see her good points. She really likes me, so I keep working' at it, hopin' I'll deserve it some day."

"And gain full control of the Nekoken like Akane has?" Mousse asked relaxing again.

Ranma was silent for a moment. "That, too. I know that I'm nearly twice as fast when I go neko, but that only happens when the fur's flyin', so to speak. If I can acclimate, there ain't no one that'll even come close to me."

Mousse shook his head. "I guess you earned it," he decided finally. "I sometimes wonder why I ever bothered to learn the Art," he sighed. "It certainly hasn't earned me any respect from Shampoo."

"Don't give me that, Mousse," Ranma scolded him. "Stop the pity-party. Shampoo would be dead by now if not for you. Isn't that reason enough for yer Art?"

Mousse's head came up and he stared at Ranma for a long moment. "Thanks, Saotome."

"Don't mention it," Ranma said, leaning back and closing his eyes. Kiku jumped up on his head and settled down, purring.

Mousse looked over the steamy water, then dipped his hand in the water and scrubbed the steam off his glasses. "What's it like, with your ailurophobia, having that kitten purring on your forehead?"

"A little like balancing a grenade up there, with the pin half-pulled."

"I don't think I'll try that, thank you," Mousse said after some contemplation.

"Smart," Ranma murmured.

oOo

Later, after the Amazons had gone home, Ranma cuddled with Akane on her bed. They did this fairly regularly, except when fertility tended to push their mutual affection into more dangerous territory. Akane reveled in the attention and the fact that, no matter what else happened, she had won Ranma's heart. Ranma cherished every moment with his love, caught constantly between the desire to make her his and the necessity of protecting Shampoo's honor for Akane's sake. He always entered by way of her window, to maintain the semblance of propriety.

Hinako knew, of course. Her own ki awareness was only slightly short of ki vision. Kasumi probably knew, but then she also knew he wouldn't do anything irrevocable until the Amazon issue was resolved. Soun only knew that he and Akane were getting along much better. If Nabiki knew, she wasn't telling anyone and wasn't blackmailing him.

Occasionally, Shampoo dropped in to visit. Oi! Did that make life interesting! The possibility she might slide through the window helped keep them honest. He did object to the equal attention notion she proposed to them before Christmas. He still wasn't certain whether she had been teasing or not, but didn't feel like testing Akane's goodwill. A stray thought that labeled itself, ménage a trois, flashed lurid images across his imagination, making him mentally kick himself. 'Gaah! Where had that come from?' he thought.

One of his hands rested just above her navel. The other was grasped with ferocious strength by his fiancée, to press against her breast through the thin fabric of her pajamas. Even in sleep, she was possessive of him. He smiled and kissed the side of her neck lightly. She was so precious to him. She smiled and snuggled closer, stretching her neck for more attention. His lips nibbled gently and under his hand he felt the peak of her breast harden. She was still asleep, but only just.

Then he felt someone enter the range of his senses. He stiffened and went to active alert, his enhanced abilities sweeping the grounds. Five figures stood outside the dojo. Their auras revealed powerful, weel developed and controled ki, possibly as strong as Cologne's or Happosai's. They seemed to greet one another before filing into the dojo.

"Tomboy, wakeup," Ranma said tersely. "I think we got trouble."

"C'mon, Shampoo… It's late," she said sleepily. "I was havin' nicest dream 'bout Ranma…"

"Not that kind of trouble, Akane. We got guests in the dojo." Ranma gently but firmly disentangled himself from her grasp.

"I'm awake!" she said suddenly. Her head snapped around and Ranma detected the initiation of her ki vision. After a moment of evaluation, "Who the hell are they?" she asked aggrieved.

"Ya got me." Ranma tried to judge their visitors' abilities. "Two of them are geezers, like the Freak or Cologne. Three of 'em are younger, but still older than our parents. Their auras are not only strong; they're smooth, refined. They may not have as much as we got, but they're very comfortable with it."

Akane growled faintly. This was their territory! "What's the plan?"

"You get Kasumi and your folks out of harm's way while I cover for ya. Once they're clear, call the Nekohanten and Ucchan's." They dressed quickly.

"You're not going to face them alone," she said sharply. He rolled his eyes. "Ranma!"

"I'll be careful." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe I oughta take a page from Kasumi's book and bring out refreshments. It might throw 'em off-guard."

"I'll be back here with the others in ten minutes," Akane warned him. "Don't get too creative, love." She kissed him and dodged into the halls, waking Kasumi then gliding down to the master bedroom.

Ranma went down to the kitchen to prepare.

oOo

"Are you sure this is really necessary?" asked one shadowy form.

"The Saotome boy is too... high profile, Tora." The voice was strong but old. "He treats his talent with ki like a toy. People are noticing."

"The boy is quite noticeable," injected an old female voice. "I've felt his aura. He is very powerful, though he is still somewhat coarse in his techniques. Cute butt, too." Into the dead silence that followed, she added, "Well it is! Still, I agree; we must ascertain his intent and set some controls before he is beyond control."

"We have all developed our skills through testing and practice," interjected the first to speak. "I have had the opportunity to speak to him and he is surprisingly mature. Perhaps his curse may have something to do with this development. His constant switching between human yin and yang may have developed insights unavailable to others."

"I still have trouble believing this curse," commented the first old voice. "Are you certain of this?"

"He was kind enough to demonstrate. His female form is very pretty."

There were multiple snorts. "And you complain when I say he has a cute butt," muttered the woman.

"Considering how most youngsters behave today, I'm surprised he has the discipline to do any martial arts." The voice, female and strong, was scathing. "And don't tell me he isn't experimenting. You felt where his aura was. And the Tendo girl shows similar power. Did he teach her? How much does she know?"

"We're jumping to conclusions," sighed the voice that had admitted to meeting Ranma. "Why should we be afraid? We have sacrificed much to achieve our level of understanding and he may surpass us. Have any of you considered what he has sacrificed?" The shadow shook its head. "We all know what he's faced. His father is an idiot, but a very competent martial artist. He took the boy from his mother and for ten years, immersed him in martial arts of all kinds. The boy has visited and challenged some of the most prestigious dojo in Asia. Because of his father's reputation and obviously questionable activities, he rarely actually trained under any of these masters, but both he and his father have an incredible knack for learning styles by observation. The boy is a little rough of speech, but is very intelligent. He listens well, if it is a subject that interests him."

"Huh, huh… I remember him. He was eight or nine years old but sat like a little Buddha, soaking up the instruction on breathing, focus and the generation of ki. What a student! I begged that rascal Genma to let me teach him, but the old fool had to steal something in the village and left with the authorities on his tail." There was a pause. "I always wondered if he was an abusive father. The boy had very odd scarring on his arms and body, as if someone had lashed him with thorns."

"That was probably the result of the Nekoken training the boy was put through," the female voice said dryly.

There was a long disgusted silence. "Bloody fool!" someone muttered.

"It's amazing the boy is sane!"

"Is he sane?"

"Sane compared to what?" asked the new presence in the dojo. The visitors blinked as the dojo lights came on. Ranma stood by the switches with a tray table loaded with cups and tea. "Perhaps we can discuss that?" The young man walked forward, bowed to the four men and one woman, then crossed to a cupboard to retrieve some cushions. "Feel free to sit down and chill out." He tossed the pillows down in easy reaching distance of the tea tray. Ranma found there was one individual he could put a name to: "Uncle Toronaga…"

Toronaga Daikansatsu looked regretful. "Ranma, it's good to see you."

"You should have called ahead, Uncle. There was no time to properly prepare a welcome for you and your friends." Ranma set out the cups and carefully poured the tea. "I've some experience with tea ceremony, but I suppose you all have things to discuss?" He waved at the cushions. "Please make yourselves comfortable." With his uncle among their unexpected guests, he considered warning them of the rescue party, but then decided against it. It might remind them not to be so high and mighty in the future.

They seated themselves. Ranma's uncle introduced the other four martial artists by their family names. "This is Master Jun." He was very old with wispy white hair and a wrinkled face. He projected irascibility and humor all at once. His dark eyes seemed to dance despite his serious expression. Dressed in yellow, his wide sleeves hid his hands. "This is Master Také." The next oldest was a thin, dour-looking man in black. He held a short staff in one hand. "Master Suhl might have special significance to you." This was the woman martial artist. Though small, she was taller than Cologne and had steely gray hair. She seemed oddly familiar to Ranma but his uncle's comment did not generate any spark of memory. Her blue silk fighting suit had, along the lower hem of the tunic, five crimson dots. "Last, but not least is Master Li." Obviously a monk of some Buddhist sect and of Chinese descent, this man watched the confrontation placidly his bald head glinting in the artificial light. His clothing was loose and mustard colored with red patterns in the jacket.

"I'm honored," Ranma said simply. "Not many dojo can boast of a visit by martial artists of your abilities." He swung his senses over them again, searching for some hint as to their purpose. There was nothing to go on. He evaluated the threat of the five before him. While he had more power than any two of them, he was certain that skill and experience would make them dangerous opponents. As the newest master of a very small school, he was in a precarious position in more ways than one. For the next ten or fifteen minutes, he'd have to keep things peaceful and not give anything away. He centered himself and prepared for his most difficult conflict: Ranma versus his own big mouth.

oOo

Ucchan's was dark and quiet. Upstairs in a modest room, two lovers lay awake, touching one another and debating whether they wished to begin, all over again, their horizontal dance of life. "Rychan, I love you." Rychan smirked and leaned forward to kiss the woman's nose, mouth, chin and begin to work lower. He growled and let his unusually long canines prick her soft throat. "Yeek!"

"I love you too, Ukyo," Ryoga murmured into her neck. "I still can't believe we're doing this." He leaned away and looked her in the eye. "When can we set a date?"

The glowing joy in Ukyo's eyes died a little. "My heart says tomorrow isn't soon enough. My head…"

Ryoga levered up on an elbow. "Why not tomorrow?" Ukyo looked away. "Damn you, Ranma," he growled.

"No!" Ukyo slapped his shoulder explosively to get his attention. "No," she added more softly. "I love you. I care about Ranma and Akane is my best friend. I'm worried about this 'Sister of the Heart' business. If Akane makes a mistake, Shampoo has to kill her. And Ranma… I don't think he'll survive that."

Ryoga sighed, flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling. "Damn. So that's why you've insisted on the Bakusai Tenketsu training and the speed drills. You plan to challenge Shampoo, yourself, don't you?"

"I was better than Akane was before, maybe I can get there again."

"You have no idea what Ranma put her through to get her there," Ryoga said seriously. "If that's your goal, you might as well forget it now."

"What?" snapped Ukyo stiffening. "You don't think I'm good enough?"

"Jeez!" Ryoga had to grab her wrists and hold her down before she killed him. He also had to desperately avoid a case of Ranma's foot in mouth. "Ukyo, it's that I might not be good enough!"

That stopped her tantrum. "What do you mean?"

Ryoga sighed. "Ranma had to constantly measure her ability. Sometimes he was doing it second by second. He always pushed her to her limits — something about stress producing change. He said his dad did that, too, but his dad made some stupid mistakes."

"Yeah, the Nekoken…"

"That's not what he was talking about," Ryoga tried to remember what was said during those four hellish weeks when Ranma trained Akane at the lake. "Genma didn't know how to judge Ranma's training and often injured him or set him back by pushing too hard. Ranma didn't make that mistake, but I might." He shuddered and let himself sag against her. "If that happened…" A flicker of green that didn't quite register on the eye crawled across his skin.

"Let's not buy trouble right now," Ukyo said, rolling toward him and grasping his head in her hands. "For tonight, just hold me. Don't worry about what hasn't happened." His green eyes looked hurt and she hated herself for not enthusiastically approving his plan to wed. "But I want you to train me. Even if I never catch up with Akane and Shampoo, at least I will have tried." She looked at him sadly. "I have to do this, Ryoga. Even if I'm not ready, I have to try. Ranma doesn't deserve another Jusendo."

Ryoga went white. That day, in the moments before Akane revived, had been among the worst of his life. "Damn him for ever mentioning that to you," Ryoga murmured against her lips. "You shouldn't have to worry about that."

"Hey! I've been his earpiece for so long… At least he recognized that I was human," she added with a hint of reproach. "We all should remember that tomorrow has no guarantees." Ukyo kissed him, putting her heart into it, sending him into muscle-lock. "We have today. We can only hope for tomorrow." Her hands stroked along his neck and down under the blankets. He gasped and glomped her.

"Let's not worry about more than the next half hour or so, okay?" He rolled on top of her, his hands moving. Ukyo alternated between gasps, moans and giggles as he caressed and tickled her. "Jeez, I still can't figure out how anyone ever thought you were a guy…"

The pile of blankets suddenly thrashed as his fingers found very sensitive spots. "Ahhh! Ry-O-ga!"

"Heh-heh-heh!" Ryoga chuckled. His hand shot out to the side for balance as Ukyo bucked and twisted, nudging the small pitcher they kept for refreshment. "Aw, shit!" he continued in a higher voice. Ryoga found herself breast to breast with Ukyo who blinked and grinned amused.

"Missing something, sugar?"

"Argh!"

The phone rang.

"Ignore it," Ryoga suggested.

"Why don't you use it to guide you to the kettle on the stove and make some alterations, Rychan?" Ukyo fluttered her eyelashes.

The green-eyed girl sighed dramatically and stood up. "You'd think that getting a curse would solve my directional problem. But no-o-o-o!"

Ukyo giggled as Ryoga searched for the door. The phone continued to ring. The okonomiyaki chef frowned and came to her feet. "They're persistent. Maybe it's important." She grabbed Ryoga by the arm and hurried out the door and down the steps ignoring the fact that neither was clothed. It was her shop, wasn't it? The blinds were drawn, weren't they?

They were, but that wasn't the problem. A table jerked and pivoted. "Ukyo!" it screamed joyously.

"Tsubasa!" both girls snarled.

Tsubasa, the hopeless cross-dresser froze. Who was that with Ukyo? Damn, she was cute, too! He had had doubts before about which way Ukyo swung, but the sight of his obsession, gloriously exposed alongside a similarly unclothed beauty seemed to settle that. "Oh, my dearest Ukyo, it's true! You only wanted that Saotome boy because he was a girl, too!" They boggled at that as his disguise collapsed, revealing his pastel blue dress with embroidered snowflakes. He rubbed his weeping eyes, doing a credible Soun Tendo imitation. "The gods know you must have tried! But now that horrible Hibiki has pushed you to this!"

Ukyo came to herself and realized she was showing Tsubasa far more than she wanted to. Ryoga remembered how he had warned Tsubasa how lethal bothering Ukyo again would be. "Die, Tsubasa!" She surged forward. The cross-dresser managed to dodge this attempt at homicide, overturning a table that Ryoga blindly tripped over.

"Why do you attack me when I merely express my sorrow for your condition!" Tsubasa posed dramatically while Ryoga growled and dragged herself out from the wreckage of some tables. "Besides, I can hardly defend myself against such revealed loveliness!"

Ryoga blinked, started to say something insulting, then contemplated the 'revealed loveliness' part. She looked down at herself, then up at Tsubasa. "DIE, TSUBASA!" Her aura lit up the shop.

"Ahhh…" screamed Tsubasa, discovering a sense of self-preservation and dashing through the doors of the shop. The doors did not survive the departure.

"Damn!" snarled Ryoga. "I'll get you, you little hentai!" she screamed into the night. Snarling, she whirled about and stopped. This didn't look like Ucchan's. Then a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Whew! Just got you!" Ukyo's grip was warm, welcome and instantly relieved Ryoga of worrying about wandering naked through Nerima in the middle of winter as a girl. "Come on, sugar. It looks like we'll have to board up the doors till the glaziers can come." The phone had stopped ringing. "I wonder who was calling at this hour?"

oOo

The phone in the Nekohanten rang. After five or six rings a tired Ling-Ling stumbled out of the living quarters and picked it up, rubbing her eyes. "Moshi… Akane?" From weariness, the Amazon went to full alertness. "What you say?" She listened then said firmly, "We coming right away!" She turned and leaped up the steps. "Great-grandmother!"

oOo

Ryoga finished fastening the plywood across the doorframe to replace the broken glass. Being a girl was a lot better than being a pig, but there were still some nasty problems to deal with. He wondered if there was any call for Tsubasa okonomiyaki? He planned to find out soon. As he stood up, a ringing caught his attention. Ukyo, more discreetly covered in a robe, came out of the storeroom and picked up the receiver. "Moshi… Akane? Was that you earlier?" she asked irritated. Still, it was better than having Tsubasa creeping around. "This better be important," she growled. Seconds later, she grabbed Ryoga by the arm and hurried him off into the night.

"What's wrong?" Ryoga exclaimed as he attempted to regain his footing and match her pace. She filled him in as they hurried toward the Tendo Dojo.

At the Tendo dojo, a young man sat across from five of his peers.