Charlotte's Sequel
Part V
Special Secrets . . .

He sat at the bar, occasionally he twisted his chair back, or forth. His hair was short, blue-black, and unkept, his eyes were brown, like the trench coat he wore. On the floor next to his bar stool, was a small green school bag.
He sat holding a mug of logger. He had not yet put his lips to it, the bar tender was beginning to wonder if he should ask the man to leave. If not for the childish twisting of the bar stool, the bar tender might have been tempted to poke the man with a stick to see if he was still alive.
And then without warning or provocation the man began to speak in a soft voice, rambling on like a drunk, though he had not yet touched his drink.
"Life goes on, it never stops. Mankind may end, but the world continues. When the world ends, life continues elsewhere. Be it single celled organisms or a so-called 'advanced' culture, life goes on. Do I believe in aliens? Not in the way you suspect. Slime creatures from outer space wishing to conquer our world and fertilize our women with their alien seed. That is both myth and fact, fact because there *are* other life forms, and myth because only humans are vain enough to believe their women important enough for alien breeding. I do not believe in the media's alien. I do believe in life. Here, on other worlds, in other realities, life cannot be stopped, it cannot be silenced. You can kill a so-called individual, and they think that life is over. It isn't. It continues, and they only prove that they were selfish enough, foolish enough to believe that their life meant anything. Even naive enough to believe that their life belonged to them, that it was theirs, their treasure and their bane.
"People think of ways to pass the time from birth to death, it mostly involves prolonging their own lives out of curiosity of the future, or fear of the unknown. Fighting for your beliefs is a joke, leaving your children a better tomorrow? A joke. If you don't like today, don't have babies. Don't kid yourself, the species will live on, and your genes, morals and beliefs are not important enough to be passed on anyway.
"You think you're sentient just because you realize that you exist? Humans are greedy, they prize themselves over anything else, as part of their nature they may accept others, so as to cut deals, some money here, a good lay there, they act as if they and the people they work with are living, feeling beings, and they begin to believe the lie. Humans don't feel. Not really. They care only about themselves and those who are or may one day be of use to them. Mostly attractive members of the opposite sex."
The bar tender was beginning to understand. "Bad love life?" He asked.
The man raised his gaze upon the barkeep. "No, there is nothing wrong with loving life I suppose." He said, misunderstanding, "That is if you truly believe yourself capable of love. What is love if not a word? Physical lust, attraction, the desire to mate, stirring conversation, a desire to share the cost of living with a partner, that's pretty much love as people know it."
"Then what do you suppose love is?"
"Nothing at all. It does not exist. Life on the other hand, that is the only thing that does exist, and it is a constant, wherever you go you can find life if only because *you're* there. Scientists have discovered so many forms of life, it flourishes everywhere and it adjusts itself to it's conditions because it refuses to stop. It's the candle that no one can put out. Well . . . maybe some day . . . I'll . . ." He trailed off.
"Alright then, sir." The man shrugged, handing the man his bill.
The man reached into his pocket and threw some money on the table without counting it. The bar tender looked at the wad of bills on the table, it was easily ten times what the drink was worth, so he kept his mouth shut. If this guy had money to throw around he'd let him do just that. "Thank you very much for your patronage." The bar tender said happily.
"Don't mention it." The man said simply. He strolled away, giggling to himself.
The bar tender noticed something as he counted the money . . . the man had forgotten his bag. "Uh, sir! Sir, you forgot your pack!" He called out, but his patron had disappeared. He shrugged and considered the bag his until the man came to claim it.
He looked inside . . .
"Neat clock!" He exclaimed. It counted down to zero.
The entire building burst into flames, the windows exploded outward and spat flame like a half dozen crazed dragons. The people inside knew for a brief moment what it might be like to live on the sun, then they knew nothing at all.
And the man, who'd turned to see it happen, walked away from the scene giggling to himself. Maybe some day he'd find a way to extinguish that candle. The only problem would be his inability to make absolutely sure that he'd succeeded, furthermore extinguishing life on this world, assuming he could ever manage it, would mean nothing as life would continue elsewhere. Life never stopped. If the life of this world was a candle, there were certainly countless more, like candles arranged on an infinitely old person's cake–with one for good luck–and blowing them all out would be impossible.
But that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun trying to blow out all the candles. Oh such fun would he have . . . he was already smiling as he heard the fire engines, the people screaming in panic . . . today was a fun day . . . and it was just beginning! And with this the city had become more peaceful in the long run, now the population of excessive drinkers was down just a tad. His teacher had always told him that drinking was bad for your health. That is, she'd said it before he'd nailed her tongue to the table and burned the school down . . .
He paused for a moment, having the strangest sensation that he'd agreed to be somewhere, possibly a school of sorts . . . but he decided it was unimportant. "I would have remembered if it was." He said to himself, he shoved his hands into his crowded pockets and strolled away whistling.

** Meanwhile . . . **
A man was sitting back in his easy chair happily humming to himself, and wondering when his loving, loyal wife, and his cute caring children would be home, he had such a great surprise for them, tickets to that great new amusement park!
They'd be so happy!
He leaned back . . . where was the remote? He searched around the arm rests, he looked around the easy chair, he chuckled nervously. "Gee . . . Where is it?"
His wife came home. "Hello dear! I bought groceries, the kids are bringing them in now." She said.
"Gee, that's just swell!" He said enthusiastically. "Uh, darling, have you see the remote control?"
"No dear. Have you checked the arm rests?"
"Yes. It isnt there." He said, disappointed.
His wife began to help him look.
His son came in carrying two paper bags full of groceries. "Hey dad!" He said happily.
"Hey junior!" He said enthusiastically, "Have you seen the remote?"
"Nope. Maybe you're sitting on it?"
"Well that's a great idea, I didn't think to check!" The man said happily, certain that he'd find his remote. He checked, and it wasn't there . . .
He forced a smile as a daytime talk show he didn't like came on . . . "Maybe your sister knows where it is." He said.
His daughter came in, she was carrying three bags, but they were filled with light items. "Hi daddy!" She said happily.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Have you seen daddy's remote control, pumpkin?"
"Pumpkin? Pumpkin! Pumpkins are orange and round! Are you calling me fat daddy!?"
"You're skinny as a twig." Her brother scoffed.
"That's not important!" The man in the chair said a little annoyed, "Have you seen the remote?"
"Wah-hah-hah! I'm going to my room! Check under your chair!" She cried, running off to cry into her pillow.
The man smiled again. "Thanks pump–er kitten, I didn't think to check there!" He said, and he leaned over to check under the seat.
Nothing.
He twitched.
"Why don't you let me change it for you?" His son offered.
"No, if you do that I'm stuck watching whatever you leave it on until you come back! I'm at your mercy!" He shouted.
"I'll watch TV with you dear, then I can change it whenever you want." His wife offered.
"Oh, but you've spent such a long hard day, shopping." He said sarcastically.
"Oh it's no trouble dear!" His wife smiled.
"Oh but it is." He said darkly, "you see the remote allows me to change automatically to the channel I want with the mere press of a few buttons, with you here I have to wait for you to reach the station I want."
"Well maybe you'll find something nice that you didn't know about on the way?" His wife offered.
"You just don't get it, do you? Now that I've experienced remoty goodness, I cant go back! Not for you, not for anyone!"
"Sounds like someone's a little spoiled with his super technology!" His wife said with a disarming smile.
But he'd be damned if he'd let something as stupid as *reason* or *common sense* stop him now! "Spoiled? Spoiled! Let me tell you something lady, while you're off spending my paycheck on groceries, or here inviting the neighbor men over for 'tea' I'm at work bustin' my back for this worthless, ugly family! That's right, you're all ugly!" His daughter emitted a loud sob from her room "I have to put up with you blasted fools day after day, your wants, your needs, I have to provide everything! You've been whining at me every night about how much these brats want to see that new amusement park, and I got tickets, stood in line for hours on my day off and now I just want the darn remote, but it's nowhere to be found! I bet you hid it! Or you sold it on the black remote market! You did didn't you? You sold it on the black remote market! Well what do you have to say for yourself!! Huh? Huh!? I'm waiting!!"
She looked very surprised. "Uh . . . well I–"
"You! Yeah you!" He interrupted her, "Shut up! I cant stand to hear your voice! I don't need the remote anymore! I don't need anything!" He jumped out of his chair and ran over to the window, "I hate you all!" He shouted as he leapt out of the window of their twelfth story apartment . . . as he was half way out the window to his gruesome death a thought occurred to him . . .
He reached into his pocket . . .
Happily he shouted up to his wife and son who were looking out the window in horror as he fell, "I found the remo–"
** Enough Meanwhile . . . **
No, the Meanwhile-Enough Meanwhile scene does NOT have anything to do with the story.

Genma shone the light into the eyes of the first Koruda School fighter to wake. She was Anzu Koruda, the heiress of the school.
"Why have you come?" Soun demanded.
"I was told to come here and test my abilities against your greatest students, to prove once and for all that Koruda is better than Tendo!"
"What are your measurements?!"
"Thirty four, twenty six, thirty six–hey wait a minute, that's none of your–"
"I'll ask the questions around here!" Soun cried. "How many more like you are there?"
"Uh . . . four?"
"Just the five of you? That's all? Koruda doesn't have any other students?"
"Oh he's got tons! We host classes every week, and we've got a much larger dojo than you do."
Soun began to cry, so Genma took over, "Well we're not that kind of dojo–"
"Yes we are!" Soun wept, "I'm jut too lazy to teach the classes!"
"Anyway, if it's a tournament you want we'll give it to you, at your dojo, our prized students against yours!"
"If I agree . . . will you let me go?" Anzu asked.
"Yes." Genma nodded.
"Then it is a challenge you have! And woe be unto you, poor fools!" Anzu cried as Genma untied her. "Five on five, the battle to end all battles, the winner will reign supreme as the greatest school of fighting!"
"Hai!" The other four Koruda students woke at just that moment and leapt up and followed Anzu out.
"Make ready, our five finest students!" Genma cried.
"Like the five fingers on the fist of justice, let the Koruda school of combat feel our mighty punch!" Soun leapt up and locked fists with Genma.
"Urm . . . Father?" Kasumi piped up.
"Hmm? Oh yes, Kasumi?" Soun asked.
"Who are your five students?" She asked.
Soun frowned. He began counting something on his fingers, Genma decided to do the same . . . there was Ranma . . . Akane . . . uh . . . Ranma and Akane . . . Ryoga . . . sort of . . . maybe Ukyo?"
"Well . . . that's easy!" Soun chuckled, "We have six, there's Ranma, Akane, Ryoga, Ukyo, and Shampoo! Mousse can alternate incase Ryoga gets lost, and if he cant see the way we've got the skinny girl who talks too much! Ho-ho-ho-ho!"
"Actually Lotion is still missing, remember?"
"Oh yeah . . . well no matter." Soun chuckled.
"And Ryoga seems to have disappeared too." Kasumi pointed out.
Soun frowned. "He's probably with Nabi–"
"No, he isnt." Nabiki said, poking her head out from the kitchen.
"You don't know where he is?" Soun asked.
"He's not in my room–he can never find the place–and I'm not hiding him in my pockets." Nabiki said. "So no, I don't."
"I see . . . we should be fine with Ranma, Akane, Ukyo, Mousse and Shampoo, right?" Soun asked Genma.
Genma shrugged. "What if Mousse, Shampoo, and Ukyo cant make it?"
Soun grabbed Genma by the collar. "Then *we* would have to fight, so we'd better find Ryoga, and make sure Ukyo, Mousse and Shampoo can compete!"
"For our safety!" Genma and Soun said together, locking fists again.

Ryoga strolled into Ukyo's place whistling.
"Heard you went to Hawaii sugar!" Ukyo called to him.
"Hmm? Well we tried to, I think we ended up on one of the islands for a little while. But Nabiki got restless, and we left. She must have done something to make us really popular because we had to outrun a mob trying to get to the airport, the people were really happy, they were waving their fists, they got really excited, heck I'm pretty sure somebody fired a shot!" Ryoga said.
Ukyo gave him a weird look. "Uh . . . that's super." She said.
"I was kidding actually." Ryoga said.
"I really hoped so." Ukyo laughed. "So where is she?"
"Who?"
"Your girlfriend, Akane's sister . . . which one was it?"
"Nabiki?"
"Yeah, her." Ukyo nodded.
"Ah, she's at home. I came here because I'm having my mid-life crisis. Thought I'd eat until I got fat, or forgot my problems, or threw up, whichever came first"
"Well . . . okay, I'm thinkin' you're a little too young for a mid-life crisis sugar, but just the same, doctor Ukyo's got the remedy for your ills! Okonomiyaki. But I'm giving you a limit of five, Nabiki might cook *me* if you went home fat, and I wont have people thinking my Okonomiyaki makes people puke." Ukyo chuckled.
Ryoga shrugged and paid her the price of five Okonomiyakis. She shrugged back and went to work.
Ryoga started to make a crane out of a napkin.
"Hey sugar, how many weeks you been back? Ranma-honey didn't say a word when I went by there yesterday."
"Well we just got back yesterday actually."
Ukyo nearly dropped her spatula. "You just got back? And you're here?"
"Yeah, I took a taxi." Ryoga shrugged. "It's great, you just give them money and tell them were you want to go. Getting them to stop is a bit of a trick, I guess I should be really thankful to Cologne for that Breaking Point training."
Ukyo smiled, trying to keep it natural, but on the inside she was shocked at what this boy was implying. Why should getting hit with giant boulders help him stop a cab?
Only one method came to mind, and she knew better than to think that he knew better. Given his choice of girlfriend, it had probably been Nabiki who taught him to do what she suspected he'd probably done. "Ryoga, are you really happy with Nabiki?"
"What?" He asked.
"Well it's just . . . you've changed. You used to like fighting Ranma-honey every once a month or so, and you used to really like Akane."
"Yeah . . . and then Nabiki found out about P-Chan, made me her slave, forced me to go on TV with her, and Akane found out everything." Ryoga said bitterly.
Ukyo smiled. Opportunity was knocking on her door! "Well . . . maybe I can set you up on a date with Akane, huh?"
Ryoga shook his head. "I'm not just dating Nabiki, we're engaged. I'm not interested in Akane anymore." He said.
"Is that really true?" Ukyo asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Somehow she doubted Ryoga was over Akane.
"Well yeah. She wants to get married some time next summer, but our parents–"
"No, I mean about you not being interested in Akane." Ukyo said. "You never wish that it was you she was marrying, not Ranma?"
"Not really." Ryoga said, though he didn't sound certain. "Ranma's got Akane, that's great. I've got Nabiki . . . sort of . . . so in the end everyone wins, I guess."
'Except me.' Ukyo thought. What chance did she have with Ranma if Akane was in the way? Her alternative was Konatsu, and frankly she considered him to be a serious trade down from Ranma Saotome, *her* Ran-chan. "So how is it being back?"
"To be honest, I wish I was still on the road, where no one can find me." Ryoga mumbled unhappily. "No sooner do I get home than Yoshimi Harume, daughter of Kotaro Harume, age seventeen of three quarters, knocks on the Tendo door looking for me."
"Who? Daughter of what? Age how many?" Ukyo raised an eyebrow.
"Wait till you meet her a few times, you'll memorize it."
"No thank you, I already met that skinny assassin." Ukyo scoffed. "So now you've got two girl friends? That sounds familiar."
"Yes, I have become Ranma." Ryoga sighed. "But unlike Ranma, I haven't done anything to make Yoshimi think I have any romantic interest in her! And she acts so innocent in front of everyone, they don't know the truth!"
"The truth?" Ukyo frowned.
Ryoga gulped. "It was a long time ago, I forgot all about her until mom brought her up."
Ukyo shook her head. "C'mon sugar, we're friends aren't we?"
"There's a question." Ryoga grunted. "I thought we were just associates."
"Aww c'mon, we're friends. So tell me, what's the truth about this second fiancee?"
"Well . . ." Ryoga frowned.

Some Years Ago . . .

The wind howled, the rain poured down on a young Ryoga Hibiki, despite his umbrella. He was cold, freezing, and his bag was starting to feel heavy! After two days he decided it was safe to say he'd missed school on Friday, and his only hope was to get there by Monday and beg his teacher's forgiveness.
But he wasn't really sure where he was now . . . the houses were really big, he wondered if he could hide from the storm in the shadow of one of those houses. Negotiating the security would be the only problem.
Suddenly a really long car pulled up next to him, it was bright pink, and though the young boy immediately felt uncomfortable around it he wished the person inside would invite him in.
Getting into cars with strangers was stupid, even suicidal, and though he was young Ryoga knew that–though he didn't really know what the word 'suicidal' meant–but desperate times called for desperate measures, and he was desperate.
Before he could knock on it the tinted black window rolled down and a cute little girl about his age poked her head out, holding onto her sun hat as if for dear life, though she looked a little silly wearing it in this dark, gloomy storm.
But then again, her hair was mostly dry, Ryoga was soaked, so who was he to judge.
"Who are you?" The little girl demanded.
"I-I'm Ryoga, Ryoga Hibiki!" He said.
"What are you doing out here in the rain, Ryoga Ryoga Hibiki?" The girl asked, holding her hat with both hands now.
"I was trying to find my school, but I gave up when my map blew away! Do you know where I can hide from this storm?"
"You need a map to school?" The girl questioned suspiciously.
"Yes," Ryoga said a little embarrassed. Why could everyone else find their way around? His mom said he was special, he was starting to wish he wasn't.
"Hurry up Yoshi!" Someone shouted from inside the long car.
"Oh all right! And you will call me Yoshimi!" The girl shouted back.
"Wait Yoshimi!" Ryoga pleaded, "Can you tell me where to hide from the storm?"
"How do you know my name?" Yoshimi asked suspiciously.
"You just said it! Please, I'm cold!" Ryoga pleaded.
"Oh right!" The girl smiled wide. "There's a dumptster over there, maybe there's some empty boxes inside you can make into a house!" As she pointed to the fancy dumpster (which had a fancy gate around it) her hat caught the wind and blew away.
Ryoga's hand moved quickly, and caught the hat on a reflex. He would ever after wish that he'd let it fly away, but he was young, too young to realize what he was about to get into. He held it out to her.
The girl stared at him for a few seconds, while her head became soaked until she resembled a wet cat, her shoulder length hair whipping her face which went from a look of hat-loss outrage, to shock, then slowly to a cute buy scary overjoyed look of excitement!
She took the hat back, and let it go, Ryoga caught it on reflex and give it back, they did this two more times before she decided not to push her luck. "Wow!" She said at last. She said something else that sounded like 'incredible' but it was drowned out by the wind.
"Uh . . . I'm gonna go now." Ryoga informed her.
"No! No! Come inside, quick! Why are you going over there? There's nothing but a dumpster over there, you need to get out of the rain, not play in the garbage!" The little girl cried.
Ryoga was a little confused. "But you said–"
"Never mind that!" The girl said, opening the door just a crack, the wind flung it open the rest of the way, it made a sound that suggested that only a miracle had kept the whole car door from flying away. "Come inside, you'll freeze out there!" She said.
Ryoga got in, and she made an attempt to close to door but to no avail.
'Girls are so weak' he thought, so he closed the door for her. This only further impressed her.
"Wow!" She said as the driver–who was some ways in front of them–continued his drive, not questioning the new passenger, or the reasons for his presence. "You're really strong Ryoga Ryoga Hibiki!" She said.
"His name's just Ryoga, stupid." Another kid, a fat little boy with a missing tooth said. He looked sort of like Yoshimi.
"He said his name was Ryoga Ryoga Hibiki, Yamato!" Yoshimi hissed.
"Uh actually I'm Ryoga. Just Ryoga. Hibiki is my family name."
"Well that makes sense." Yoshimi said, blushing.
"See? Stupid." Yamato scoffed.
"Quiet!" Yoshimi growled at Yamato, then to Ryoga in a sweet voice she said, "Did you just move here? I have not seen you around before!"
"Uh . . . no, I live far away . . . I think. I've never seen this place before . . . this is Japan, right?"
"Well . . . yes . . . where else would it be?" Yoshimi sounded very interested in what Ryoga had to say, it was kind of nice.
"Well I've been all over the place," Ryoga said.
"You go to schools all over Japan?" Yoshimi blinked.
"No, I just go to one school, and usually a friend walks me to it, but whenever he forgets, or he's sick, or something I have to try to find my own way."
"You mean you don't know the way to your own school?" Yamato scoffed, pulling a finger from his nose.
"Uh . . . well . . . I know *of* the way." Ryoga tried.
"What're you, born without a sense of direction or something?" Yamato demanded.
"Well . . . yes." Ryoga frowned.
"And what about common sense? The ability to read signs? Why don't your parents drive you to school?"
"I'm not sure if we have a car." Ryoga admitted.
"Well you should!" Yamato scoffed. "They aren't that expensive, I can afford one with my allowance. I've bought ten actually, I can't drive them yet, but then that's what servants are for."
"He's lying." Yoshimi said simply. "He only has three cars."
"Uh . . . I guess I should ask them." Ryoga said.
"If you ever get home." Yamato grunted, shoving his finger back into his nose for another gold run.
"You *do* know the way home, right?" Yoshimi asked.
"Sure." Ryoga said, not willing to be further teased by a fat rich kid disturbingly interested in what was up his nose.
"So Ryoga, what brings you to my neighborhood?"
"Well . . . I saw a storm brewing so I tried to get away from it, but I guess I went the wrong way." Ryoga said.
"Ah. You seem honest Ryoga, that's good. Rich people aren't really honest. When I saw you, I knew you looked different. I thought you were a hit man! Daddy's rivals hire them some times to kidnap me, or kill me." She reached behind her back and pulled out a very fancy and very real gun, "If you were a hit man, I'd have to put a cap in your skull, but daddy says it can get expensive if I don't know for sure that the person I shoot is a hit man."
Ryoga almost wet himself as she waved the gun in his direction.
"Yeah, we were gonna do a drive by. Then Yoshi remembered her dad gets mad if she doesn't make sure first." Yamato said.
"I'm not a hit man." Ryoga said.
"Oh I realize that." Yoshimi smiled. "And that trick where you caught my hat was neat, I bet you'd make a good body guard. Can you catch a bullet?"
"Uh I don't think–"
"Let's find out!" Yoshimi squealed, firing the gun.
It was like thunder, the sound hurt poor Ryoga's ears, and the smoke made him cough. But he didn't feel the icy hot grip of death. He was okay.
"You missed it!" Yoshimi complained.
Ryoga was soon gapping at the bullet hole in the seat next to his head. "I don't catch bullets!" He yelped.
"Oh pooh. You know some times daddy hires assassins to kill me, he says it's to keep me on my toes, but I think he just wants to make sure that my aim doesn't get rusty."
"Isnt that the same as keeping you on your–" she fired another shot, Ryoga yelped.
"Sorry, I thought perhaps if I caught you unaware . . ." Yoshimi said.
"Like the first time?" Ryoga demanded.
"Oh yeah!" Yoshimi said. "You didn't catch it then either. You know you're not a very good hit man."
"I'm not a–ahhh!" She fired again! "I'm not a hit man!" Ryoga cried.
"That's it, I'm taking that gun away!" Yamato cried, "You're too dangerous Yoshi, uncle Kotaro is insane letting you have a gun!"
"Try it, I dare you!" Yoshimi held her gun out daring Yamato to take it.
"Hah! Your pistol has six shots, you used three just now, and three earlier on that ice cream truck!"
"Hah! I only used two on the ice cream man, one for each of his front tires!"
"I heard three shots!" Yamato cried.
"Yeah, the third one was his." Yoshimi said, "He was obviously a hit man, I think my quick thinking saved us. If I hadn't shot his wheels you'd have bought ice cream and then he'd have shot you!"
"Maybe he wouldn't have shot anyone if you hadn't blown his tires, stupid!" Yamato cried, as Yoshimi considered this he made his move.
Everything was slow motion–or rich kids move really slow–Yoshimi's eyes lit up, in that instant Ryoga saw her true self, she wanted to kill something and she didn't much care if it was him, Yamato, their driver, or an ice cream man. She'd baited her fish and now he was read to be reeled in!
Her hand closed around the gun that she had been holding out, Ryoga's hand moved even faster, he shoved Yamato back as Yoshimi fired her gun, the bullet took Yamato's hat off his head.
And the moment passed, things returned to their normal speed, Ryoga had been to rough in stopping Yamato, and the shock of Yoshimi's sixth shot shook him, still it seemed he knew better than to oppose his scary cousin, so instead he turned on Ryoga!
"You hit me! You hit me! You peasant!"
"I did not! She shot at you!" Ryoga said.
Yoshimi's reaction to the entire event was confusing, frightening and even disturbing. She beamed at Ryoga, and said, "You hit my mean cousin Yamato! You protected me from his mean words!"
"I did what?" Ryoga demanded. "Look, just let me out already, I'll take the storm!" He said. A part of him was really scared that Yoshimi had more bullets somewhere.
"Oh no! You have to meet my daddy! You're incredible! He has to meet you!"
"Really, let me out of the car!" Ryoga pleaded.
"But why?"
"I uh . . . my parents don't want me playing with guns."
"Oh don't be silly. No one is playing with guns, this is serious work we do." Yoshimi giggled, and tossed her gun aside–now that it was empty–she kept beaming at Ryoga, he felt sort of like a new toy, it was uncomfortable.
He did indeed meet Yoshimi's father, who as it turned out was really scary because he yelled a lot, and grabbed Ryoga and shook him asking if he'd looked into Yoshimi's eyes, and asking him why he didn't run while he had the chance.
But when Yoshimi told him that Ryoga had no sense or direction, and that he traveled all over japan, and to different countries . . . he changed his tune, he suddenly wanted to meet Ryoga's parents, couldn't stop speaking praises of his daughter, kept mentioning what a good wife she'd make one day, and how long her mother had kept her looks, even during pregnancy, and that Yoshimi would probably be the same way.
All of it was probably fascinating, but to a little boy like Ryoga it was just a scary head ache. When his parents were tracked down–a week of torment later–they'd been quick to sign something, and drink wine with Yoshimi's dad, then they kept talking about what a cute couple he and Yoshimi made, and Yoshimi started scolding him about his posture and how she wouldn't be with a sloucher, whatever any of that meant.
So for the first time Ryoga actually got lost on purpose, he ran away from that place and never looked back, he hadn't really realized that he was engaged to Yoshimi until much later.

"Neato!" Ukyo said. "She sounds worse than Kodachi!"
"I'd rather be engaged to Kodachi than Yoshimi!" Ryoga groaned as he finished his fifth Okonomiyaki. Ukyo didn't really believe he'd eat all five, but he had.
"You're not that lucky, sugar." Ukyo teased.
Ryoga shook his head. His hand wandered into his pocket and found something . . . he pulled it out, it was the envelope Lotion had given him.
'Something just for you . . .' her words echoed in his head. At the time he'd been afraid of having another girlfriend, all the time he'd spent teasing Ranma had left him paranoid.
But now that he thought of it her tone had not been overly flirtatious, or affectionate. He wondered what her secret could be . . .
He was about to open it when Yoshimi–flanked by a pair of pink ninjas–strolled in. She looked around innocently, then waved at Ryoga as if this were the last place she'd expected to find him.
"Is that her?" Ukyo whispered. Ryoga nodded. "Want me to beat her up?"
"No, I'll handle this." Ryoga smiled.
"I can kick her out." Ukyo offered.
"Then we'll be surrounded on all exits, forced to camp out in here until negotiators can come in, best just to deal with her now." He laughed softly.
Yoshimi skipped over, she held her hands behind her back and smiled at Ryoga, "Hi!" She said, "I didn't think I'd find you here!"
"And I didn't think you'd come here!" Ryoga said with mock enthusiasm. In his heart he thought , 'Narcissistic girl, go away, flee, be gone, stop trying to act so innocent, you wicked thing! Go away! I don't love you and you know it, stop trying to ruin my life, I hate you! I hate you! If you weren't a girl I'd kill you! You twit, you poser, I'd definitely make you die!'
"What are you doing here?" Yoshimi asked.
"I came here to get something to eat . . . I ate it . . . now I should probably go." Ryoga said.
"Oh? Well I'll walk with you!" Yoshimi said.
"I was going to take a cab." Ryoga said.
"I'll ride with you then, and pay your fare!" Yoshimi said.
"I uh . . . you came here for a reason, right?"
"Just to use the phone to call the Tendo house for directions so I could visit you!" Yoshimi squeaked happily. "My regular driver got sick, so I needed to hire a new one on the spot and he didn't know the way!"
"But you were just there when I left!" Ryoga protested.
"Was I? Was I really, darling?" Yoshimi said with a knowing laugh.
"Yes."
"Okay fine, I just left so I could be with you." She admitted. "Can you blame me? Is it so wrong?"
"Well uh . . ." Ryoga tried to think of something.
"Ryoga," Ukyo spoke up, "don't you remember? You said you'd help me out with dishwashing today."
"Oh right!" Ryoga nodded. He looked at Yoshimi, "Sorry, I made a promise to my friend Ukyo here."
"Cant he get on without you?" Yoshimi pouted.
Ukyo flinched at being referred to in the masculine. Maybe it would happen less often if she'd try dressing like a girl. "Ryoga has a lot to do, it's almost lunch rush-hour."
"Could I borrow him until the rush hour then?" Yoshimi tried.
"No, he needs to get ready."
"Well what if my two body guards here took over for him?" Yoshimi offered. She didn't wait to hear Ukyo's reply, she clapped her hands, "Great! Come on then Ryoga!" She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him off, leaving her two body guards to help Ukyo.
"Thanks anyway." Ryoga mouthed, Ukyo gave an apologetic shrug.
"Today is going to be great! I have all sorts of fun things planned!" Yoshimi said. "First we'll have a practice marriage, then we'll take a walk on the beach! You haven't seen me in a bathing suit yet, I'm so nervous!"
'Somebody shoot me now.' Ryoga thought.

To Be Continued . . .

Well there's some of the secrets revealed (while you probably didn't care what Anzu's measurements were, it's a secret revealed none-the-less!) but it seems we've run a long show. Maybe if we didn't put in that pointless remote control segment. Also note, it did occur to me that Ryoga's memory is not perfect enough to deliver such a "detailed" retelling of his past, but I didn't see any point in repeating the same scene multiple times, one telling all and the other a narrative slur, so I instead just told the real story.

NEXT TIME! In Chapter VI "Adult Decisions"
Soun and Genma try to iron out the details of the tournament (namely the identities of their fighters) but could their next drink be their last? Cologne has a talk with Shampoo and Mousse, what's that wily old woman planning? Ryoga is saved from his date with Yoshimi, but could this mean that he has a new girlfriend to deal with? Who will it be? Ukyo perhaps? Will one of Kasumi's plans to restore some order to her family result in disaster? Nabiki will be kissed by someone who isnt Ryoga, and her overseas contact will show himself, or herself just as Yoshimi puts the finishing touches on her plot, but will Nabiki's possibly legal new job get in the way of what the insane rich girl has planned? Will Nabiki actually go through with this job when Ryoga finally finds out? How can this simple job endanger their deception–er I mean relationship?
If you're thinking "Oh sure, yeah right, you wont fit all that into one chapter, you're just telling us lies again!" then this time it is *your* head that is filthy with lies, because chapter VI will deliver!