Dark Titans – Arc 2 - Big Trouble In Little Tokyo

Chapter Five

Tolerate if you will, enjoy if you won't.

Akane took a moment to straighten out her clothing and hair as she stood before the front door. After all, she wanted to look her best for their visitors . . . whoever they may be. Finally happy with her primping, she opened the door, a Kasumi-esque smile on her face.

The sight of the trio standing before her caused the smile to drop from her face so fast that it nearly broke her toe. Still shocked, she just blurted out the first thing she could think of, given the circumstances.

"Oh, my! It's you!"

The tallest of the trio, a rather stern looking police officer, took a step forward and bowed formally. He then straightened out and looked at her intently. "Excuse me, Miss, but is this the Tendo Dojo?" he asked politely.

She nodded absently for a moment, before suddenly finding her senses and stuttering out a response. "O-of course it is. May I ask what brings you here?"

What brings him here? What kind of stupid question was that? It was blatantly obvious why the officer was here, considering who he was shepherding around. The better question would be: what were they doing here? And with a police escort no less?

"Well, Miss Tendo . . . it is Miss Tendo, correct?" he asked, again in that polite tone. She replied with a simple nod, motioning for him to continue.

"Well, Miss Tendo, Lieutenant Uehara put out an All Points Bulletin, he was very insistent on talking to these two young ladies." He gestured to the two young ladies that accompanied him. The older of the two wore her extravagantly long brunette hair in a sinuous ponytail, while her sharply cut bangs nearly hung over her narrow, chestnut eyes. The younger of the two tamed her rather wild, shoulder length brown hair with a long red ribbon tied into a large, cute bow at the back of her head. Both were wearing sailor uniforms, the former's a navy blue affair and the latter's a more traditional white and blue uniform. They each carried a large sack before them, as well, which carried all of their worldly possessions.

Both girls seemed to be slightly confused about the situation as well. But while the older girl wore a cool, neutral expression, the younger girl wore a hopeful look on her adorable face. They were both mindful of the officer though, and refrained from giving any form of greeting yet, aside from the elder sister's simple nod of recognition.

The officer chuckled weakly, drawing Akane's attention back to him. "You wouldn't believe the favors that the Lieutenant had to pull in on this. They were actually found by the Yokohama police force. Heh, but that's enough of that. We were told, once we found these two, to bring them here, to the Tendo Dojo."

She nodded, starting to piece the puzzle together in her head. "Did Lieutenant Uehara tell you why they were supposed to be brought here?" She hated to ask the question, especially right in front of her two guests, but she had an odd feeling she already knew the answer. Of course, she knew that Kasumi would never have been so rude to anyone . . .

The officer scratched the back of his head. "Well, he didn't give out many details, but he said that it was extremely urgent. Also, there is apparently a Saotome Ranma residing here, and that he would apprise them of the situation."

Akane hid her hands in the folds of her skirt, desperately hiding her painfully clenching fists. So that was what that phone call that Ranma had made over a week ago had been about. Was he really so desperate for help that he sent busy police officers scouring the entire country looking for her wayward sisters? It appeared that she would have to . . . talk . . . to her fiancé about this.

The officer stared at her oddly for a moment, perhaps taking in the strained smile on her face. A moment later, the tall man simply shrugged. "Well, if everything is in order then, I'll leave these two ladies in your care." He then turned to the two girls and bowed to each one. "Miss Natsume, Miss Kurumi, I thank you for your cooperation in this situation. I hope that you haven't been too inconvenienced by this."

Natsume returned the bow, even returning a weak smile of her own. "Not at all, Officer Tsukino. You have been extremely professional and generous in your conduct. My sister and I both thank you for bringing us here so quickly."

Kurumi, on the other hand, was not so reserved. The lightning fast young girl ran forward and hugged the poor officer tightly. "Thank you for buying us all of those snacks as well, Officer! They were delicious!" she cried out happily. A moment later she released the man and fell back into step with her sister. Officer Tsukino chuckled happily once more, before waving farewell to all of them.

"Have a nice evening, ladies."

And then he was gone. Akane turned back to her not-quite-sisters. Well, it appeared that her initial conclusion about the two of them being in trouble with the law had been completely wrong. Now the youngest true Tendo felt bad for being so rude in her greeting earlier. Bowing deeply to Natsume and Kurumi, she gave them both her first real smile since seeing them at the door.

"Please, come in. We have a lot of catching up to do!"

Ryu casually draped the towel around his neck as he exited the dojo. He'd built up quite a sweat during his workout, but it had felt damn good to be practicing his true fighting style after so long. Of course, it would take him a little while to get back up to full speed, but it had surprised him how quickly many of the movements had returned to him. He just couldn't wait to run into that damned Catgirl again. At their next meeting, he would show her the true terror of the Yamasen-ken . . .

And then he'd kill her.

A grim smile spread across his lips. Whatever that feline monster had been, it wasn't human; no human could have possibly done what that Catgirl had done to those unfortunate people that it had attacked before it came after him. He swore, right then and there, that he would avenge not only his defeat, but also the lives of those unfortunates the next time that he crossed paths with that fanged terror.

Without another thought, he entered the dining room, absently using a corner of the towel to brush some errant sweat from his bangs. Ranma was already there, sitting at the table and munching on a pork bun from the large bowl set at the center of the said table. Silently, the fatigue wearing warrior strode over and dropped down at the head of the table, grabbing one of the morsels for himself. After his first bite, he noticed a tiny detail.

"Hey, where's that Akane girl? I thought you were explaining the whole situation to her?"

Ranma turned a rather lackadaisical eye his way and simply shrugged before taking another bite from his pork bun. After chewing for a small eternity, possibly just trying to annoy him, the pigtailed boy finally swallowed the food and answered. "Someone's at the door."

Well, a simple enough answer he supposed. Of course, the way that his companion answered made him want to club him upside the head, but he figured there would be plenty of time for that later. Not really feeling up to chit chatting with the architect of his greatest defeat, he scanned the rest of the room for something more entertaining to pass the time with.

Hmm, there was a pile of comic books sitting at the end of the table. Come to think of it, Akane had been reading them when Ranma and he had arrived a few hours ago. It seemed like an unusually normal hobby for someone to have that lived in the same world of martial arts than he and Ranma did, if only for the fact that the life of a wandering martial artist generally didn't lend itself to actually having any money to spend on such a frivolous thing.

His stare lingered on the colorfully designed cover of the manga that sat at the top of the stack . . . It was a girl's comic and it certainly looked like it . . . but, then, it was that or actually talk to Ranma . . .

Well, that was no decision at all, really. He reached out slowly, purposefully ignoring the trailing eyes of the actual Saotome. Sailor Moon, eh? That didn't even make sense . . . there wasn't any water on the moon; sure, there were seas and such, but he was pretty sure it wasn't meant literally.

. . . The girl on the cover was pretty cute though. He was about to break down and open the cover, when -

Suddenly, Akane stormed into the room, a rather stormy expression on her face. Without even slowing, the young woman strode up to and straight past the table, not even slowing as she suddenly grabbed her fiancé's pigtail in a death grip and started dragging him out of the room!

Ryu quickly dropped the girly comic and turned to watch the spectacle. He smiled widely at Ranma's strangled cries of pain as he slid helplessly across the floor; this certainly seemed more entertaining than reading. Almost as an afterthought, Akane looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Hey, Ryu. Could you please entertain Natsume and Kurumi for me? I need to talk to Ranma." That said, she continued out of the room. He could only nod, for fear of bursting out in laughter at the sight. Suddenly a series of thumps filled the air, almost like something heavy being dragged up a set of stairs . . .

'Well, better him than me,' he thought to himself.

Still, Akane seemed like a nice girl, and she'd been nice enough to feed him, so he figured entertaining her friends was the least he could . . . do . . .

His casual turn back to the entranceway slowed down to a glacial crawl as he got his first look at the two girls that Akane had asked him to entertain.

He glossed over the shorter girl in a flash. Sure, she was cute enough, but looked too young for his taste and, well, too cute. Where his stare had passed over her in a fraction of a moment, though, it lingered dangerously on the older girl.

There wasn't anything cute about her, from her unbelievably long ponytail to her narrow, intense chestnut eyes. And, was that a . . . rug beater strapped to her back?

Just moments before he could catch himself for staring, both sisters suddenly bowed politely to him.

"Greetings, Mr. Hibiki, it is pleasant to meet you again," she spoke in an extremely formal tone, her voice surprisingly rich. A fraction of a second later, the younger girl flew forward and planted herself at the table, nearly slavering at the sight of the bowl containing the pork buns. Her eyes were saucers of glistening joy and a high pitch squeal escaped the kid's throat. He chuckled to himself; she must have been pretty hungry to get that worked up over some food . . .

Wait a second!

"Wait a second! Who's Mr. Hibiki? My name is Kumon Ryu," he stated in obvious confusion. He aimed his inquiry at the young woman with the rug beater, not expecting any useful reply from the food obsessed girl sitting in front of him.

She rose from her bow at that and suddenly did a double take as she looked at him again. An actual embarrassed expression bloomed on her face, something that didn't seem quite natural for such a forceful looking young woman, and she bowed quickly again.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Kumon!" She rose from her apologetic bow, apparently studying him more intently this time. "It's just that you bear a passing resemblance to a young man that was here the last time we were here. When I saw your bandanna, I just automatically assumed . . . please forgive me for my presumption."

Ah, so that was it, an honest mistake. No need for him to get offended. Though it was funny that he would get a case of mistaken identity after having stolen someone else's identity for so long. He decided to give the young woman a casual smile to try to put her at ease. He then gestured for her to sit down next to him, which she did obligingly.

"That's okay, these things happen, especially to me, lately. By the way, what's your name? I know one of you is Natsume and one of you is Kurumi, but not which is which, heh," he asked conversationally. The girl's cheeks suddenly burned red with embarrassment once again.

"How rude of me! Not only did I mistake you for someone else, I also forgot to introduce my sister and myself. My name is Natsume and my sister's name is Kurumi," she explained sheepishly. Ryu smiled, Natsume, eh? The name suddenly seemed so much more appealing now that he had a face to attach it to. Of course, not wanting to seem rude himself, he turned to Kurumi and gave her a polite nod as well -

Wait another second!

"Hey . . . wasn't that bowl full of pork buns just a second ago?"

"Hee hee, I'm sorry, Mr. Kumon, did you want some more?" replied the younger sister in that overly sweet voice of hers. He just shook his head in disbelief . . . how had she . . . ?

He shook his head again, apparently he'd underestimated just how starved these girls had been.

"Um . . . no, I'm fine." If the girl was really that hungry, he couldn't really hold it against her, now could he. Oh well, at least he had gotten one, anyway.

With one last shrug, he turned back to Natsume, just in time to catch her studying him out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't the appraising look that he was used to getting from young women, though; she almost seemed to be analyzing him with those cool, penetrating eyes. If he didn't know better, he'd guess that she was trying to gauge whether he was a martial artist or not.

Well, he decided to return the favor. His own analysis took only a single second, and as soon as he finished, he asked the most obvious question he could think of. Smiling widely now, he leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, facing Natsume directly.

"So, how did you do against him?"

Natsume looked at him oddly for a moment. "Excuse me? Whatever are you talking about?"

His smile only widened at that. "How did your fight against Saotome go? It's obvious that you're a martial artist, and probably a good one at that. I'm assuming you must have fought him at some point," he stated confidently.

The ponytail wearing girl stared at him oddly again, before a small smile finally formed on her lips. It was, he decided, a rather unique smile. "Very well, but then you must tell me how you fared," she replied, an interesting note in her voice that he couldn't place for the life of him.

He nodded, feeling a tiny twinge of competitiveness blooming inside him. He was sure that his story would be better, but she seemed to be very certain of herself. "Sure, fair is fair, after all."

The proper young woman settled in for her upcoming storytelling session. A far away look began to enter her eyes as the memories flooded back to her.

"Well, our first battle went exceptionally well; neither Ranma nor Akane could even touch us . . ."

Ranma grumbled loudly as he sat on his bed. Gingerly he rubbed the back of his head, trying to sooth the pain of being dragged up the stairs by his pigtail.

"Sheesh, Akane, what the heck did ya do that for?" he asked bitterly. He'd thought they'd been getting along really well lately.

Akane stopped her pacing across the room to glare at him. "Humph, as if you didn't know. You actually had the police hunt down Natsume and Kurumi and drag them all the way here, against their will, just so they could help you fight these new enemies of yours? That has to be one of the most selfish things you've ever done! Didn't you even consider their feelings in all of this, or that they might have had something important they were doing?" she breathed out in a huff.

Ranma reeled slightly at that . . . The cops had brought them right to the dojo?

Oh gods, Nabiki was going to kill him!

Suddenly, Akane's rather heated statement didn't seem quite as intimidating as usual. Still, he figured he'd better answer, lest the girl get even angrier. After all, he could always wail in despair over the hell Nabiki would likely make his life later, in private.

"Sheesh, 'Kane. I figured you'd be happy to see them again. Besides, it ain't like they were dragged here, I just told Lieutenant Uehara to ask them if they could help me out. If they're here, that means it was their choice to come," he fired back, feeling strangely confident in his rightness on this one.

That confidence wavered quite quickly, though, as Akane's features darkened fearfully at his rebuttal. Her glare froze him in place as she stalked forward angrily. "Of course I'm happy to see them! At least I would be, if you weren't planning on getting them involved in such a dangerous situation!"

He nearly snorted at that. "Feh, those two can take care of themselves, Akane. They're two of the best female fighters I know, heck, Natsume alone could beat someone as tough as Shampoo by herself. And as a team they're even better, after all, they even gave me a little trouble, ya don't get much better than that!" he replied easily.

If he had hoped to put the girl at ease, though, his efforts appeared to be in vain. "These people you're fighting, they aren't martial artists, Ranma. You have to stop thinking about this like one of your stupid challenges! People are dying; just one of these things nearly killed someone as powerful as Ryu! Natsume and Kurumi might not be my real sisters, but I still care about them. I don't want to see them get hurt . . . or worse," she exclaimed heatedly.

Ohhh, that made sense to the pigtailed martial artist. A little too much sense, really, he almost would have preferred her jealousy over this, at least that he was used to. "Hey now, I don't wanna see 'em get hurt anymore than you do! I didn't know things were gonna get this messed up when I made that call, ya know?"

He tugged his pigtail nervously. He honestly had no idea that things would ever get this serious when he had got involved with that Saico-Tek guy. Really, that guy had been a joke, but the fights had been escalating ever since. "Look, I'll give Raven a call later tonight. She helped out with Mecha-Boi, I bet she could give us an idea on how to find whoever is behind all of these bad guys."

Impossibly, Akane's glare only intensified! "You're going to call Raven again?" the temperamental girl muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Huh? What're ya goin on about now? I've only talked to Raven once in the past couple days."

"Yeah, for two hours!" The heat in Akane's voice was very different from the passionate concern she was showing seconds earlier.

Ranma groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. Then a thought suddenly entered his mind. "Wait a second! How'd you know how long I was talkin to her? Were you listening in on my call?" he asked, a bit of heat entering his own voice now.

Rather than get embarrassed over getting caught, his fiancée only got angrier at him. "No! Why should I care what you have to say to her? Heck, you can talk to Raven all night for all I care!"

Man . . . not this again. It had been unbearable back in Jump city, in the days after their victory over the Headmaster. Akane, Shampoo and Ukyou had all been on his case over who he had decided to spend some of his time with. Well, that was enough! He jumped to his feet, quickly enough to cause Akane to backpedal a step.

"Hey! You can get angry, jealous, or violent about anything you want, but you do not get mad about Raven!" The forcefulness of his words shocked even himself. Akane's mouth actually snapped shut in shock as she looked at him with disbelieving eyes. And yet, he couldn't stop; he actually pointed an angry finger at her accusingly. "Raven saved all our lives back at the Academy, so she deserves a hell of a lot better than your paranoid jealousy. And Raven is my friend, damnit, hell, she's probly the only girl I know that ain't tryin to marry me or kill me at the moment, so back off!"

That seemed to do it. In a matter of seconds, her angry glower dissolved into a shamefaced expression that actually even made him feel a little bad. He didn't want to be so harsh to the girl, but there was no way he was going to stand for her getting jealous over the violet haired Titan.

"I-I'm sorry, Ranma . . . I didn't know you felt so strongly about her . . .," trailed off his fiancé. The hurt tone in her voice was so pronounced that even he picked it up. Aww, man, was she gonna start going the other way now?

Quickly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She tensed up fiercely at his touch for a moment, before slowly relaxing. Gently, he ran a soothing hand through her hair and began to whisper soothing.

"Heh, ya big dummy. Raven is the last person in the world that ya gotta be jealous of. She's still hung up on the Lost Boy, remember? Besides, she made it pretty darn clear that I was . . . um . . . how did she put it . . . 'Exactly the kind of egotistical, chest thumping, testosterone pumping alpha male that she couldn't stand.'"

Akane looked up at him at that, a weak smile on her face. " . . . And yet she likes Ryouga for some reason?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Kurumi glanced around the room anxiously . . . something seemed to be . . . off to her. She looked back at the two people across the table from her, her eyes narrowing slightly. The young martial artist wasn't sure what was going on with her older sister, but Natsume seemed to be acting strangely around this strange boy. It was obvious that that boy was up to something, what with his evil chuckle and shifty smiles. Kurumi didn't trust him one little bit.

. . . But that wasn't what was bothering her.

No, there was something else, something much more subtle than the disturbing sight before her. Something seemed different about the entire house . . . an absence of some sort . . .

". . . and if that wasn't bad enough, then the arrogant jerk ran past and stole all my clothes!" Ryu exclaimed.

Ewwwww! Kurumi turned green at that thought! She knew that Ranma turned into a girl sometimes, but stealing a boy's clothes? That was just gross! It's a good thing he didn't try that on them, though . . . she didn't even want to think about that idea.

Natsume's reaction was pretty similar to hers . . . except she turned red instead. Wait, why was her sister turning red? She should be turning green like her, after hearing something like that.

"H-he took all of your clothes?" asked the red faced Natsume. Her sister's voice sounded strange, not at all cool and composed like usual . . . what was going on with her?

The older boy leaned back, actually chuckling to himself in a lightly embarrassed way. "Heh, well, not all of my clothes, but you can imagine how embarrassing that had to be. Of course, there was no way that I was going to let a little embarrassment stop me from thrashing that cocky jerk . . ." Kurumi tuned out the rest of that conversation, the last thing she wanted to hear about was some boy fighting half naked.

A rumble in her tummy reminded her of her endless appetite. Hmm, she wondered where Kasumi was, she was always super nice and bringing out food for her to eat. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen anyone but Akane and a quick glimpse of Ranma before the two vanished.

The sound of the front door opening derailed her trail of thought. All eyes swiveled towards the front of the house, curiosity abounding. A second later, she jumped to her feet in joy as her pop- um as Mr. Tendo and Uncle Saotome entered the room. Right behind her, Natsume and Ryu also rose to their feet, respectful of their host and his friend.

The two older men wandered into the room, talking back and forth in somber tones. Mr. Saotome had an arm around the Tendo Patriarch, seeming to lead the other man about, they didn't even notice the room's occupants for several moments, so caught up in their quiet conversation. To Kurumi, Mr. Saotome looked more or less the same as usual, though perhaps a few more lines on his face than she remembered. Her poppa . . . or rather, Mr. Tendo, though, he looked very different indeed. The man that she had so wished to be her real father hardly looked like the strong, passionate man that she remembered.

Now, he almost seemed . . . broken to her, and she felt a strange queasy feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger begin to grow. She remembered he had always been an emotional man before, but now the look of pain on his face, and the tears that stained his cheeks were almost more than she could bear.

A quick glance at her companions showed equally concerned and curious expressions on Natsume's and Ryu's faces respectively. It appeared that even the Kumon boy hadn't been expecting to see anything like this.

And then the two men noticed the three of them . . . and time seemed to stop. The five of them all gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity, at least to her. Slowly, a smile began to form on Mr. Saotome's face as he recognized them. The head-scarf wearing man then removed his arm from Mr. Tendo and stepped back. Ryu also seemed to fade into the background, a look of understanding dawning over him.

Mr. Tendo just continued to stare at them, shock fading into recognition, dissolving into joy. Amazingly, even the constant streams of tears ceased as he gazed at them.

"My Daughters!"

In a flash of movement that even Kurumi found hard to follow, she was suddenly being embraced by the long haired warrior. She nearly had to gasp for breath, being crushed between a rock like chest and a hard edged sister. The momentary discomfort was immediately forgotten, though, as she melted into the heart warming hug. She pressed her head against her poppa's chest, relishing the tender contact that she had been denied so lon-

The hug ended infinitely too quickly, as something suddenly pushed the older man away. Kurumi looked to the side in confusion, to see Natsume, her hand to Soun's chest, pushing him away forcefully.

"Please, do not do that . . . Mr. Tendo. It is highly inappropriate," stated Natsume. Her sister's resolve was somewhat betrayed by a tightness in her voice. The taller girl couldn't even match Mr. Tendo's gaze as he stared at her in confusion.

"B-but, Natsume . . ." The emotion in Mr. Tendo's voice was much easier to identify, and much harder to hide.

Natsume turned back to look at him once more. "Though we both greatly appreciated your hospitality when you took us in; you made it abundantly clear that you did not believe us to be, nor did you wish us to be, your daughters."

Kurumi stared at her sister, too shocked to even speak. What – what was she saying? Mr. Tendo had just greeted them like his own daughters and she was throwing it back in his face? Sure, he hadn't exactly been overjoyed at their claim of being his daughters, but he had still treated them more kindly than any one else ever had . . .

The glistening moisture of unformed tears began to appear in their almost-father's eyes at hearing Natsume's words. "But I – you . . . you have to understand . . ." Mr. Tendo trailed off, unable to think of a response to her sister's words.

Her sister continued, unhindered. "Please don't worry about it, Mr. Tendo. I understand why you did it; we tried to take the dojo from Akane, your rightful heir. We are the ones to blame; you were just an innocent victim in everything that transpired. But you must also understand, it has taken me . . . us, a long time to accept that we are not Tendo's . . . that we have no name to call our own, so it is for the best that you do not confuse the situation by treating us as such . . ." Natsume's gaze dropped as her words trailed off uncertainly.

Kurumi looked at her sister anew . . . she hadn't known that she had felt that way. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she had caught Natsume several times over the past months, crying in the dead of the night . . . But whenever she had confronted her about it, Natsume had always dismissed it as unimportant. She had also started to notice that her sister never referred to herself as Tendo Natsume, but never had the time to think about it with their constant life of traveling and training.

Behind them, Ryu and Mr. Saotome were striving to not watch the display, acute discomfort on their faces. Mr. Saotome had been the most supportive of their claim, even suggesting that they be given the Dojo and they had treated him as a beloved uncle for that. He looked very much like he wanted to say something, but couldn't bring himself to interrupt. The eavesdropping boy, on the other hand, just continued to watch her sister out of the corner of his eyes, a myriad of emotions flashing across his face faster than she could figure out what they meant.

"I . . . if that is how you feel . . . then I will respect your wishes, my da . . . Natsume . . . But, if you did not return to rejoin our family, then why have you returned?" Mr. Tendo asked, curiosity and deep disappointment warring in his words. She felt so bad for him, but wouldn't, could never, go against her sister's wishes. Especially since she knew that Natsume must have felt as bad about it as her and Mr. Tendo did . . .

"Ranma summoned us. We were told, by the officer that found us, that there was an important situation that he required our help with. We do not know what it is yet, but it was said that Ranma would inform us of what it was when we arrived," Natsume explained carefully.

"And that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A new voice interrupted their conversation and everyone turned to the staircase to see Ranma and Akane enter the room. The pigtailed martial artist wore a troubled expression on his face, as he glanced over the gathering before him. The mood of the room must have been pretty obvious to the usually carefree young man.

Ranma then glided across the room to the table and sat down, before motioning everyone else to do the same. Whether out of curiosity, or simply thankful for a change of subject, everyone did so with scarcely a sound. Ranma looked over everyone present one last time before nodding to himself, as if coming to a decision. Then, taking a deep breath, he began.

"Alright, everyone, this is what's been goin on lately . . ."

Natsume listened with rapt attention as the blue eyed martial artist began to conclude his rather lengthy and rather grim description of the scenario that they now faced. Unexplained attacks, unearthly opponent's with unfathomable abilities . . . at first, it had sounded like an intriguing proposition; life was training, after all. However, these enemies were becoming increasingly dangerous, and didn't hesitate to use lethal force.

She discreetly glanced to her side, where Kumon Ryu sat, a serious expression on his face. She found it hard to believe that such a warrior would nearly fall prey to such an enemy, but then, he had been extremely hindered in his fighting ability. It did make her question their potential involvement, if only for her sister's sake.

Her and Kurumi were of one mind and one body and she would defend her sister to the death, but was her dear sister truly prepared to battle such a dangerous and ruthless enemy? Was she, herself, prepared?

Her discreet gaze slid to the other side of the table, to where Akane sat. Her faux-sister had made it clear that she was not getting involved, for several very valid reasons. Though not the best fighter she had faced, Akane was still a powerful opponent, almost on par with Kurumi. In fact, were it not for her sister's superior chi manipulation skills, physically, the two were equally matched. If Akane believed that this task was too dangerous for her, then did she really want to place her sister into that danger?

She turned to look back at Ranma, as he was finally getting to the crux of the issue.

"So, Natsume, Kurumi, that's what's goin on. Things have gotten pretty bad since I called you back then, so I'll understand if ya don't wanna get involved. But, whoever is behind these guys, they sure as heck ain't done yet, so we gotta find em and stop em, whatever it takes." The Saotome Heir extended his hand over the middle of the table, offering it to them. "So, what do you two say? Are you in, or are you out?"

Natsume stared at the extended hand, trying vainly to analyze the offer in her mind. It was a large commitment, and would certainly guarantee placing them in danger repeatedly . . . Finally, she looked to her sister, just as Kurumi turned to stare at her. There were probably one hundred good reasons she could think of to not accept the offer, but . . . but perhaps this was one decision she couldn't make for the two of them.

"Kurumi," she began slowly, "I will let you decide our answer. I will abide by whatever choice you make, but I only ask that you choose carefully. I do not wish to see you put in such danger, but the need is great . . ." She couldn't think of what else to say, though she desperately wished she could.

Her sister looked away, a pensive expression blooming on her face. All around the table, everyone stared at the young girl with concern, curiosity and uncertainty. Finally, after a short eternity, Kurumi turned back to look at everyone -

And dropped her hand into Ranma's waiting palm.

"We have to do this, Older Sister. I-I know I'm not as good as you or everyone else, but together we can beat anything! Besides, once you told me that 'All it takes for evil to triumph is for good women to do nothing.' So if we don't help out, it'd be just as bad as if we were hurting all those people ourselves," proclaimed her young sister proudly.

Pride, almost painful pride, bloomed in her heart. To have such a sister as her own, what had she ever done to deserve such a gift? Smiling wider than she could ever remember, unshed tears in her eyes, Natsume slowly reached to the side and lowered her hand onto her sister's, squeezing it tightly.

"How could we do any less?" she asked, choking up slightly at her own words. Her musings were suddenly interrupted, though, as a warm hand came to rest on hers. She looked up to see Ryu's large, rough hand covering her own completely. It surprised her, that his hand would be so much larger than hers, though she didn't know why. She raised her gaze to match his, taking in the half cocked smile that covered his face as well.

"I guess that makes us a team then, eh, Natsume? Heh, too bad we're stuck with Saotome over there," he added, chuckling happily to himself.

"Hey now! What's that 'sposed to mean?" barked an irate martial artist.

Suddenly Mr. Saotome jumped up, nearly ecstatic pride on his face. The stout man practically dragged his life long companion to his feet as well, wrapping a companionable arm around the taller martial artist.

"Ahh, Tendo, to witness such a display of the camaraderie of youth! It reminds me of our own unshakable bonds. Truly I have never been more proud than this moment," cheered the aging martial artist. Mr. Tendo, so overwhelmed with emotion, could only nod in agreement, even as he pounded Mr. Saotome on the back, crying tears of pride.

Ranma just let out a groan of disgust at the display. "Sheesh, Pops, it ain't no big deal. No need to get all mushy about it." The pigtailed boy then turned back to them. "Man, how embarrasin, come on, lets head out to the Dojo, might as well start trainin for the next time we run into one of those bad guys," he suggested quickly. Everyone quickly nodded in agreement; training was always a good idea, really.

As one, the five of them rose up from the table and made their way to the dojo.

. . . As the door slid shut behind them, Soun turned to Genma, a serious expression on his face. So serious, that even the tears had vanished once more. With steel in his gaze, perhaps for the first time in months, he looked deeply into his friends eyes. "Saotome, come with me . . ."

"We need to talk."

His eyes snapped open.

Uncertainly, he looked around, confusion racing through his mind. Darkness surrounded him, he couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything aside from his own rasping, ragged breathing. Shifting uneasily, he spun around, trying to regain his bearings, filling the room further with the sound of rustling paper and spilling ink.

W-what was happening . . . had he – had he been asleep?

Brushogun slowed his frantic search as memory slowly began to filter back once more, filling in the terrifying emptiness that he had felt. Something was odd, though, something unusual and unsettling, even for him.

Why had he just snapped awake?

He hadn't slept since his transformation, had no need for such a pathetic mortal indulgence. But, then why had he been unawares? More disturbingly, why couldn't he remember anything since he had begun his surveillance of his nemesis, Saotome?

His face twitched suddenly. What was . . . what was that smell? Again, he sniffed at the air, trying to identify the smell . . . if such a thing even existed for him any longer. Even the act of sniffing seemed to be an offensive throwback to his former life . . . did he even have a nose?

Another sniff . . . whether possible by the laws of nature or not, the smell continued to assault him, growing more pungent by the second as he focused on it. He almost wished that he couldn't smell it now, whatever it was. If it weren't for his non existent digestive tract, he believed the smell would have made him quite sick.

Suddenly, the smell vanished, as if in answer to his desires . . .

A slow chuckle escaped his lips, what an unusual ability to have. So it was that easy, was it? That in mind, he decided that he could see in the darkness . . .

And the world revealed itself before him.

His smile only widened, yes, soon all of the world would bow to his will with the same ease. Such a simple thing, a small thing really, but so wildly liberating, to be able to shake off the fetters of mortality with such ease. Slowly, he swung around, taking in his midnight kingdom-

His slow swing stopped with deadly finality, nerveless arms dropping to his sides as he surveyed the interior of his warehouse lair . . .

It was a charnel house . . .

The Ink Demon nearly gagged at the sight that surrounded him, another vestigial reflex that no longer had any right to exist. The bodies that surrounded him . . . he could see at least seven within his line of sight. He could only hope that was all . . .

By the Gods! These people . . . it wasn't like those two people that he had killed earlier. Those two had died instantly, cleanly . . .

This . . . this was something completely different . . . These people . . . they had not died a – they had not died a good death, none of them. The very fact that he had had to count the torsos to get an accurate number of the slain . . .

Faster than he imagined, he flowed out of the warehouse, gasping for the pristine night air which his lungs no longer required. W-what had happened? When had it happened? Who had done it? He almost felt like weeping at that last thought.

He knew very well who was responsible. But, how had it happened? Those people, not even in his wildest nightmares had he ever imagined doing such things to his fellow man . . . at least, not before his transformation. Lately, his nightmares had been quite wild indeed, made only the more frightful by the fact that he no longer slept, that those horrid images ran through his mind every waking moment . . .

And that stench, it wasn't the stench of the freshly dead. Judging by the most decayed bodies, it seemed like at least several days had passed . . . That could also explain the number, the overpowering smell drawing the curiosity of other people working in the area to the warehouse.

He had lost days! How many days? What else had he done? Had he simply lain in wait in his lair, an infernal spider waiting to slaughter his prey? Somehow, that seemed to be the least horrifying possibility.

His gaze traveled to the ocean. Perhaps - perhaps that was the answer . . . This game wasn't entertaining anymore, his story had somehow crossed into horrific new territory that terrified even himself. It had been bad enough, knowing that he was now a monster, but to know that he had an even worst monster buried inside him, one that could escape without him even knowing until it was too late . . .

No, it was all too much, he had to end it now!

With determined haste, he flowed towards the piers, towards the purifying waters of the ocean. The endless waters would dissolve the hatred that seemed to compose his very being, casting his vileness to the four corners of the world in time. It seemed a fitting end.

The trek seemed to take longer than he imagined . . . something seemed odd about his destination as well. Bah, no matter, he didn't have time for hesitation, he had to make it to the water, that was all that mattered.

The thought rang through his mind, even as he slithered across the concrete and pavement of the docks: He had to make it to the ocean. It bounced around, flashing again and again, until the very idea seemed to lose all meaning to him, like saying a word over and over again.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, Brushogun reached his destination. He looked out over the ocean, then looked down to his own reflection in the chill waters below him. He smiled widely, yes, he had finally reached his goal . . .

Why had he wanted to reach the ocean so badly again?

Hmm, for the life of him, he couldn't remember what had brought him so close to these dangerous waters at such an unusual hour. Judging by the position of the moon, the night was still young, perhaps only early evening, the cool air which heralded fall chilling his damned bones.

Well, the air was brisk, perhaps he had just wanted to relish it. Now, what had he been doing again? Oh, yes! Spying on Saotome and his new companion. Now seemed like a splendid time to get back to that.

With only the merest application of will, Brushogun touched his mind to the tiny creature that he had made earlier.

The ink construct squirmed excitedly, the vague mockery that was its existence starting once more. It had no potential for higher thought, no understanding of the world around it, but it knew enough.

Its master had finally returned, and he desired something.

Relishing the comforting caress of its master's distant mind, the construct slid out from under the roof tile; where it had hidden an unknown amount of time ago, when it had lost contact with its master. More stain than creature at the moment, it took a moment to slowly draw itself together, to once more coalesce into a useful minion for its master.

The ink which composed it flowed up once more, rolling and solidifying into the all-seeing sphere which was its original form. Next, nine spindly, insectile legs grew from every angle, digging into the hard tiles of the roof with cruel, hook-like claws. It had no need for wings this time, instead it just scurried down to the roof's ledge.

Guided by its master's will, it quickly scurried over the ledge and to the wall, quickly finding its way to a nearby window. A moment later, with deliberately slow and silent movements, it crawled to the top of the window and lowered itself until it could see below the window frame.

Once it was where its master desired it to be, it swiveled around soundlessly, until its range of vision took in the interior of the building that it perched upon.

The room was large and bare of any furniture, it was not, however, empty. Five figures danced around the room. Two of them were familiar to its master: the two boys, one wearing a red shirt with long sleeves, the other wearing a black shirt with none. They were expected and the target of its search.

The three females were not expected, or familiar, at all. One of them, the one wearing her hair in a long ponytail, was battling with the two boys, fighting with an odd wooden implement. The other two females, one with brown hair and the other with blue, were pitting their might against each other at the other end of the room.

At the whim of its master, the construct slowly reached out one of its many legs, preparing to move forward for a slightly closer look -

As soon as its claw touched the wood, though, all of the battles ended in an instant. Suddenly, everyone in the room, save the blue haired girl, stopped what they were doing, and began glancing around the room uncertainly. Just as the red shirted boy began to slide his gaze in its direction, it scurried back out the window as quickly as possible. A moment later it returned to the roof and hid beneath one of the many roof tiles once more.

Though, somehow, its prey had sensed it was watching them, it had still served its purpose.

Now its master could plan his next move.

Brushogun sneered widely.

Five of them? When had Saotome's forces swelled to five? How could he have possibly missed something as critical as that? Hadn't he just been watching the pigtailed boy and his new companion earlier that same day?

. . . Something didn't sit well with the demonic entity. Something wasn't right at all, he remembered Saotome traveling to the dojo, it was late evening at the time . . . But it was only early in the evening now. How could such a thing have happened?

A brief flicker of memory seared his mind . . . several days worth of events . . . For the unlife of him though, nothing coherent formed, just a vague impression of the passage of time.

Brushogun scoffed loudly. As if it mattered! So, it appeared that he had given his nemesis a rather generous reprieve. And it appeared that his clever enemy had capitalized on his absence most efficaciously. Well, it certainly seemed as if his heroic friend deserved some heartfelt accolades for his diligent efforts.

His grim sneer melted away to reveal a manic smile beneath it. Yes, to have surrounded himself with so many warriors, obviously something big would be required to celebrate his return. Without even thinking about it, Brushogun began to travel to the center of the Shinjuku district, completely forgetting about his lair as he went.

Oh, yes, he had just the thing.

Uehara Daizo sat at his desk; his feet comfortably perched on the corner of his desk. In one hand, he held the remains of his half eaten Adzuki roll; in the other a manila folder. The Adzuki roll was filled with bean-pastry and spongy goodness; the manila folder was filled with a stack of paper nearly a quarter of an inch thick. The delicious bean-paste was composed of Adzuki beans, the most Yang of beans; the papers were composed primarily of missing persons reports.

Yes, the Adzuki roll was superior in every conceivable way . . . it was a shame he didn't have another one in his other hand, in retrospect.

With a long sigh, he dropped the folder to his desk. That made five missing persons this week alone. They had all happened in the same general area, around the Toyo wharf in the Minato district, just next door. Hell, to rights, he shouldn't have even had the reports, they weren't in his jurisdiction, nor did they seem to have any bearing on his case. But, he had put out a few feelers the same time that he had started people looking for those two girls that Saotome had been asking after. It was a simple thing, he had just asked a few old friends to pass along anything unusual or odd that passed across their desks. This just happened to be one of those things that had been passed along.

There was no guarantee that, whoever these super villain types were, they would conveniently stay in his district all the time. Of course, he was pretty sure this was a dead end for him, sure so many disappearances in such a short time was odd, but not unheard of. He was sure that the Minato police would look into it soon enough and crack whatever it was that was goin on.

Confident with that, he looked to the folder beside the aforementioned one. That folder was in his jurisdiction. Of course, that folder should have been on Suzahara's desk, considering that he was the homicide officer, but considering it contained the most up to date list of casualties from that Catgirl's attacks, it seemed to flock to his desk like a disease riddled pigeon.

They had only found two more . . . but that was three too many for his taste. It seemed only by divine intervention that things hadn't gotten any worse over the past few days. In fact, things had been eerily quiet for nearly a week since their run in with that fur covered menace . . .

Maybe . . . maybe she had been the last of them, maybe, finally, the nightmare that had encompassed his life lately was over . . .

Yeah, and maybe he'd find out that drinking fifteen cups of coffee a day was the secret to eternal youth.

Speaking of which, he struggled to lean forward enough to reach his coffee. With zeal, he drank the top half of the cup in a single gulp . . . only to spit most of it out! Gods, he hated cold coffee.

No . . . no, something was going on. He didn't know what and he didn't know where, but he was sure that all of this peace was building to something. He hated to use the cliché, but if his time on the force had taught him anything, it was to recognize a calm before a storm. Hell, they were all calms before the storm in this city.

He stopped suddenly, looking around curiously. He noticed his current companions doing the same. Suzahara looked down at his desk, staring at something only he could see. Katsuragi was looking around, shooting questioning looks to himself and everyone else. Kaneda just stood where he was, looking at the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

There it was again . . . not quite as faint this time. With all the haste of a glacier, Daizo looked down at his cold cup of backwash coffee . . .

Suddenly a ripple formed at the center, a perfect circle that raced out to the walls of the cup before bouncing back to the center, shooting a tiny drip of coffee up into the air.

He looked up in shock, his gaze locked with Katsuragi's, her gaze locked with Suzahara's, Suzahara's gaze locked with his . . . Kaneda just kind of stood off to the side staring at nothing. The three of them stared at each other, impossible realizations dawning on all of their minds simultaneously.

Another ripple, this one more violent than the last.

Oh, no . . . he was pretty sure he'd seen this movie before. There was no way, just no way that what he thought was happening could actually be happening . . .

With a reluctance borne of complete and total dismay, he slowly made his way to the nearest window. As usual, the blinds were down and closed to keep out the sun which had set hours ago. Reaching out, he calmly poked two of his finger between the blinds and eye level and opened them enough to peek outside.

A second later, he pulled his fingers back, letting the blinds snap back together loudly. As casually as he could, he turned to face his fellow officers, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"Katsuragi, could you please call Saotome for me and ask him to come downtown?" he asked politely. The traffic officer nodded weakly, then turned back to her desk. He then turned to Suzahara.

"Suzahara, you might want to tell the chief that we have a situation in progress outside and that he might want to . . . give some orders . . . or something," he finished weakly. With robotic grace, the homicide officer began to shuffle to their superior's office.

Finally, he turned to the young officer that remained. Kaneda stared at him, an almost eager look on his face, obviously thinking it was his time to shine. "Kaneda . . .," he began seriously. The boy nodded quickly.

"Get me some coffee. This is gonna be a long night."

Ranma sat around the table with Ryu, Natsume, Kurumi and Akane. They had just finished another work out and were taking some time to relax. Still, something was bothering the pigtailed martial artist.

"It's odd, I could have sworn that someone was watching us," muttered Ryu.

All around the table, people nodded in agreement. Well, everyone aside from Akane, anyways.

"I too felt a presence, though I could not determine where it was coming from," added Natsume. Ranma nodded at that as well. It had been too brief and too faint for him to pinpoint either, not at all as obvious as Gosunkugi had always been in his efforts.

Akane just rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you guys aren't just all crazy? Who on earth would want to watch you guys work out, anyway?"

Ranma shrugged weakly, he didn't feel like arguing. It was obvious that his fiancée was just annoyed by the fact that she hadn't sensed the presence like everyone else had.

He was saved from said argument, when suddenly a ringing sound came from upstairs. Hey! That was his cell phone!

Oh, crap! Akane didn't know about his cell phone yet! He hadn't thought of an excuse to giver her about how he had gotten it yet. The girl in question looked around in confusion, obviously trying to figure out what it could be. As fast as he could, he jumped up from the table and flew up the stairs.

A second later, he dug into the pocket of his other pair of pants and pulled out the phone. He flipped it open quickly and held it up to his ear. He listened for a moment to the (semi) familiar voice of the female officer that he had seen at the police station the few times that he'd been there. As soon as she finished, he closed the phone with a click and dumped it carelessly into his pocket.

He ran back downstairs after that, just in time for Akane to catch him with a questioning look. "Ranma, what was that sound?" she asked curiously.

He sighed loudly. "We don't got time for that, Akane! There's something goin on down in Shinjuku, the Lieutenant wants us to get there ASAP!" he explained loudly. Then, waving his arm dramatically, "Come on! Let's Go!"

His hurried charge ended just as abruptly though . . .

He spun back to face his rousing comrades.

"Crap! There's four of us, how are we all gonna get there!"

Daizo stood outside the entrance of the Police Precinct. In his left hand, he held his trusty revolver, in his right hand, the finicky laser weapon that he'd been saddled with. At his back were nearly fifty uniformed officers, all just as heavily armed as himself. They were prepared, they were professional . . .

They were as good as dead!

Unfortunately, it was their legal obligation to protect their little corner of the city here. So finding the nearest fallout shelter and hiding until the national guard arrived just wasn't an option. Besides, he couldn't even imagine what that would do to their reputation.

He looked to his left and nodded at Officer Tsukino . . . he was a good man, Daizo would miss him when this was over.

Damnit! Where the hell was Saotome?

Without turning, he yelled back to his fellow officers. "Alright, men! This sure as hell ain't what we signed on for, but we're all these people have got until the people with tanks deign to show up. So, as Tokyo's first and most expendable line of defense, let's show that oversized bastard what we're made of!"

With his moving speech delivered, he started walking forward, towards the battle ahead. It took a few moments and some shuffling of feet, but soon enough he heard his fellow officers begin to follow his lead. Gods, why had the Chief put him in charge of this mess again?

He made it about ten feet, when suddenly a car squealed around the corner of the intersection ahead of them. The yellow and red car skidded recklessly, burning rubber with abandon as it slid across the pavement. Finally, it straightened out and roared down the road, right at him!

The Lieutenant prepared to jump out of the way, when suddenly the Taxi squealed to a stop right before him, disgorging martial artists like a bulimic at a buffet! Instantly, the familiar form of his pigtailed partner ran forward, a panicked look on his face.

"Lieutenant! I need to borrow, like, five thousand yen, fast!"

Daizo just stared at the martial artist. Reflexively, his hand shot pulled back, the desire to pistol whip the damned kid flaring more powerfully than ever before. It was so tempting, but really not the right time. Was there not one single thing that his new partner could do that wasn't insane in some way . . . of course, only Saotome could make something as mundane as taking a cab seem crazy.

Instead of unleashing walnut-finish justice upside the kid's head, he just shook his own head in disgust.

"Um, Saotome, I think we have something a little more pressing to deal with at the moment," he stated more calmly than he felt.

"Yeah? Well you don't know what kinda tip I promised that guy to get us here as fast as he did. What could possibly be worse than a pissed off Cabbie?" asked his clueless protégé.

The veteran Police Officer simply pointed to something behind the kid's back. Slowly, Saotome turned, his eyes moving to follow the line of his finger, down the street, past the intersection, past the intersection beyond that, until the martial artist finally saw what it was that he was pointing at.

Ranma's arms dropped limply to his sides as he took in the sight before him . . . well, a few blocks before him at any rate. Looking decidedly less optimistic than Daizo had ever seen him before, Saotome turned back to face him.

"You have got to be kidding me!"