Dark Titans

by Lathis

The ongoing adventures of Heroes and Martial Artists alike, as two very different worlds collide. The day of Starfire's wedding is at hand. Shocking family reunions and meddling wedding crashers promise much intrigue. Meanwhile, back home, Ryouga and the not quite Titans are throwing their own party. Kasumi only knows who is on the guest list.

15. Big Trouble in Little Tokyo Chapter 7

Dark Titans – Arc 2 - Big Trouble In Little Tokyo

Chapter Seven

Enjoy if you will, Tolerate if you won't

---

It was almost eerily quiet as the five of them sat around the low dining room table. Not even a gentle breeze or a jumping koi disturbed the painful silence; the only sounds that she could hear were the quiet intakes of breath from her and her companions. Ranma's breathing was notably erratic, as the wide eyed warrior gazed in horror at the slip of paper in his hands.

It had been a rather rude awakening for Natsume and her sister, to discover that their pseudo-sister had been violently kidnapped while they had been out battling that monolithic beast. Even she, herself, the cool and calculating master of the Female School of Indiscriminate Grappling, was feeling an uncharacteristic tightness in her chest at the thought of the possible fates that Akane could be facing. Of course, as worried as she was, she knew it was as nothing compared to what the girl's fiance must be feeling at that very moment.

No one else dared to even speak, just staring at the pigtailed youth with sympathetic expressions. Even Ryu, much to her surprise, was wearing a concerned look on his face. Over the days that she had gotten to know him, it had become obvious that there was no love lost between those two young men . . . However, as ruthless as the bandanna wearing boy tried to come across as, moments like this revealed that he was not nearly as cold blooded as he would like everyone to believe.

The letter dropped from Ranma's nerveless fingers, but even then, he continued to stare vacantly through the space that it had just occupied. She refrained from looking too closely, but she noticed his lips start to move . . . not trembling, more like . . . like the boy was silently whispering to himself. Not wanting to intrude on his pain, she carefully reached out and grabbed the piece of paper to read herself.

No one else reached for the offending piece of parchment; rather they all looked at her expectantly, as if thinking she would read it aloud to them. She decided to ignore them for the moment and scan through the document herself. Perhaps it would shed some light on the fate of the missing Tendo girl, since Ranma was currently unable to speak of it.

She was immediately impressed by the penmanship of the writer, their calligraphy was easily the most beautiful she had ever seen. The author had also opened with a rather clever haiku, a very interesting, if highly inappropriate artistic flair showing in their enemy's character.

So, their enemy was named Brushogun . . . hmm, how odd, it sounded very much like a portmanteau. Brushogun . . . Bru Shogun . . . Brush ogun . . . Brush Shogun? Well, it certainly didn't make any sense to her. It did seem to indicate, however, that their enemy thought quite highly of themselves, thought of themselves as a leader of men. Which did seem to make sense, considering he held an apparent army of dangerous creatures in his sway.

Regardless, she was getting sidetracked with meaningless contemplation. She quickly read through the rest of the beautifully scripted letter. Whoever the writer was, they were extremely verbose and delved deeply into the melodramatic with their writing; however, once one looked past the flowery rhetoric and prose, the heart of the letter was basically a call to challenge. Once she read the note a second time, just to be certain, she looked up to her fellow warriors.

"Our enemy, this . . . Brushogun," she stated the name with no small amount of disgust. "Has challenged Ranma, indeed, he has challenged all of us, to a duel; one last, climactic battle as he put it."

Incredulous expressions joined confused, concerned and outraged expressions as her companions reacted to her news.

"Brushogun has deigned to give us a week to prepare for the duel, which he states shall take place at the historic meeting place between Ranma and Saico-Tec . . . Directly before the twin towers of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office Building," she continued seriously.

Kurumi jumped up first. "But – but he has our sister! We can't leave her with him for a whole week, who knows what kind of terrible stuff he could be doing to her right now?" she asked in a panicked voice.

Strangely, Kurumi's last words got a response from the comatose Saotome, if only to cause him to whimper pitiably and drop his head to the table. Natsume sighed sympathetically, she didn't even want to imagine how hard this was for him, even without the aid of her sister's overactive imagination fanning the flames.

"I know, Kurumi, but Brushogun has also sworn that he will not harm her until the duel . . . unless we try to find him before that. However, he also writes that if we attempt to locate him before the appointed date, he will . . . um . . . he will . . . well . . . the passage is quite descriptive, but suffice it to say that Akane's fate will be sealed."

Ryu nodded, his gesture harsh and his posture stiff. "The bastard can do it, too. He obviously knows where we are and he can spy on us whenever he damned well wants. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he was watching us this very second, somehow," growled the angry teen.

"But . . .," ventured Thunder with concern, "How can we be certain that this Brushogun will honor his word? How can we even be certain that your friend is even . . ." The large youth slowly trailed off, looking back toward the catatonic boy slumped across the table. The thunder spirit then looked down, his cheeks darkening in shame at his words. It was obvious to Natsume that he hadn't meant to make Ranma feel even worse.

Surprisingly, it was the ivory skinned Lightning that spoke up next, his voice empty of the superiority and condescension that it had held earlier. Lightning looked directly at Ranma, placing a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "I am certain that your Akane is still with us, warrior. This Brushogun is a fool of the highest order! Rather than strike at us now, when we are weakened and vulnerable, he has given us an entire week to prepare. An entire week to prepare . . . his funeral, yes?"

The sharpness of those last words nearly cut Natsume to the metaphorical bone, but they seemed to be just the words that the pigtailed boy had needed to hear. Slowly, Ranma rose up from his slumped position, staring at Lightning silently. His blue-gray eyes shone in the darkness, as if a great storm were gathering within the endless depths they contained. The defeated air that surrounded the boy seemed to melt away, only to be replaced with rigid iron.

With glacial slowness, Ranma locked eyes with Lightning . . . Natsume could almost see bolts of confidence arcing between them as they communicated their thoughts as if by telepathy. Ranma smiled, then, a grim smile, devoid of humor; instead, malice dripped from his curved lips like soured honey. Lightning matched the smile with a haughty, malevolent smile of his own.

Were it in her nature, Natsume would have actually felt concern for their villainous enemy.

Of course, Nerima being as it was . . . or at least how it had seemed to be to Natsume lately, fate chose that very moment to make things even more complicated. Eerily reminiscent to her own arrival roughly a week ago, the sound of the front door opening snatched the attention of everyone in the room. The sound of wood sliding over wood was quickly followed by a pair of voices flowing from just beyond their line of sight. Slowly, everyone turned to face the entrance hall, confusion on the faces of Thunder and Lightning, looks of dismay on the faces of Kurumi, Ryu and herself.

Ranma's expression very quickly plummeted from vengeful, through dismayed and directly into horrified realization.

A moment later, the familiar forms of Mr. Saotome and Mr. Tendo rounded the corner, speaking animatedly to each other. This was a marked departure from the much more somber entrance they had made initially. Strangely, despite the tragedy of his two absent daughters, their almost-father had been slowly coming out of his endless grief, acting more vigorous and energetic then she could remember. Somehow, she doubted tonight's events would contribute to his marked improvement.

Mr. Saotome noticed them first, a wide smile on his face as he took them in. Of course, Saotome Genma, being who he was, completely missed the mood of the room and launched into an excited greeting.

"Ahh, our young heroes are enjoying a late night meeting! How dilligen-"

Suddenly, Genma did a double take, finally noticing the two new arrivals. How he could have possibly missed the dark giant and nearly luminescent youth was completely beyond Natsume's ability to fathom. The two older men studied the two new arrivals intently for a moment, taking in their odd appearances and attire.

Their one-time-uncle then laughed, loudly and obnoxiously. "Ha, Ranma, my boy! It seems like you've inherited the 'Saotome Charisma'! It seems like every time that Tendo and I turn our backs, you find another pair of martial artists to help you. Ha, if you keep up at this rate, we'll be buried under a mountain of martial artists before two months even pass."

Ranma, despite the seriousness of the situation, rolled his eyes in disbelief.

Unfortunately, while Mr. Saotome had been trying to claim some obscure form of genetic credit for Ranma's ability to draw comrades, Mr. Tendo was proving himself to be the more observant of the two. She watched the mustached man nervously as his eyes slowly traveled around the room. First, he surveyed the table, likely noticing the obvious absence. Then his eyes traveled up to the massive hole in the wall behind them; yet another thing she could not understand Mr. Saotome not noticing . . . or perhaps he did notice it, but was just so used to it that it didn't register . . .

Before Mr. Saotome could continue to damn his son with faint praise, Mr. Tendo placed a hand on the man's shoulder, silencing him surprisingly quickly. The Tendo patriarch then stepped forward, staring forcefully at the Saotome school heir.

"Ranma . . . where is Akane?" he asked with surprising iron in his voice.

Genma's head snapped up at that; he looked around the room as if just noticing all of the not so subtle clues for the first time himself. Ranma, on the other hand, dropped his head shamefully, unable to even match Mr. Tendo's steely gaze.

"Ranma, please tell me where my daughter is," reiterated the older man, the iron in his voice beginning to corrode away.

Finally, the young Saotome looked up from his desolate position. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Tendo . . . she's not here . . . she's been taken . . ." he trailed off weakly.

Mr. Tendo just sort of . . . stared at the boy, as if not quite believing what he was hearing. However, behind the long haired man's back, Mr. Saotome just rolled his eyes.

"Akane, kidnapped? Must be Tuesday . . .," he muttered quietly to himself.

Not quietly enough, apparently, as Soun suddenly spun on his oldest friend, his entire head expanding to monstrous proportions! The Tendo patriarch's face took on a demonic appearance and his tongue began to flail disturbingly as he hollered angrily at the bespectacled martial artist.

"Saotome! How dare you joke about this?" wailed the man in a fairly passable imitation of a banshee.

Natsume's eyes nearly popped from her skull at the display. Never had she seen such a sight! Around the table, Kurumi, Ryu, Thunder and Lightning all flinched back at the demonic presence, completely in shock. Was Mr. Tendo a demon . . . how could he perform such a feat? If it weren't for the fact that both Genma and Ranma were so completely unaffected by the display (Ranma still too distraught to notice and Genma wearing a slightly bored look) she would have probably lashed out violently.

Mr. Saotome's nonchalant reaction put everyone else at ease as well, as he casually patted his old friend's shoulder. Shaking his head in amusement, the head-scarf wearing martial artist chuckled lightly. "Come now, Tendo. There's no need to worry yourself like this. My boy will go and get her back, just like always."

Then, Ranma surprised her, standing up and glaring heatedly at his father. "No, pops," he bit out harshly, "This ain't like all those other times. Whoever this guy is, he ain't no loopy prince or cursed martial artist." The boy looked down then, actual moisture forming in his eyes.

"Po . . . D-dad," He looked up, an emotion on his face that Natsume had never seen there before, not even when they were battling that mountainous beast. "I'm scared, dad, more scared than I've ever been in my life. H-he'll kill her, if we don't do what he says, he'll do it . . . gods . . . Akane . . ." he trailed off in anguish.

Apparently this latest revelation did nothing to put Mr. Tendo at ease.

"What!" Suddenly the older martial artist grabbed Ranma's shoulder and pulled the boy within an inch of his face. "Then what are you still doing here, Ranma?" Tears started to stream down Mr. Tendo's face as he shouted in impotent fury. "You were supposed to protect her! How could you let this happen?"

"Enough!"

Natsume's shout stopped everyone dead in their tracks. She couldn't stand watching Mr. Tendo yell at her comrade in arms; as if his own self-recriminations weren't bad enough. "Mr. Tendo, release Ranma this instant!" she barked out. The look of surprise on his face was strangely satisfying for some reason. A second later, he did just as she asked. Looking at the older man critically, she took a moment to calm and center herself once more.

"Ranma is not to blame for this," she stated forcefully. "While this abduction took place, he was with us, doing our best to protect the city from a powerful evil. There was no way that any of us could have known this would have happened and nothing we could have done even if we did.

"Furthermore, there is only one person here that is truly obligated to protect Akane, however," She sniffed the air then, her nose wrinkling noticeably at the disgusting odor coming off of the two adults. "However, while Ranma and the rest of us were out battling a mountain made flesh, apparently that person decided that their time would be better spent at the bar," she finished sharply.

Ryu let out a low whistle from across the table, "Ouch," he murmured quietly to himself. The storm brothers seemed to share his thoughts, markedly looking around the room, avidly not looking at anyone else.

Just as she intended, though, her words cut deepest in the target that was Tendo Soun. Almost instantly, the man seemed to deflate in shame. In mere moments, the once tall and proud martial artist went from holding up his future son-in-law, to suddenly leaning on him like a crutch as all of the life seemed drain out of him.

In about the same span of time, Natsume's feeling of righteous indignation died a withering death. Suddenly, Mr. Tendo didn't look like some angry person, senselessly blaming Ranma for everything that went wrong . . . all too suddenly, he looked very much like a loving father who had just discovered that his youngest daughter was in the clutches of a murderous monster and he didn't know what to do . . .

To say that she now felt like the most incredible heel in the history of the world was a gross understatement. She shifted uneasily for a moment, unable even to find the words to apologize . . . what could she say after what she had just spewed out? Even Kurumi was staring at her, w-was that actual anger in her eyes? Her sister had never looked at her like that in her life . . . but how could she blame her?

"It's okay, Mr. Tendo." Natsume's dark thoughts were cut off as she looked up in surprise. Before her, Ranma was carefully placing his arm under Soun's shoulders and using his body to support the older man. There wasn't any anger or shame on his face, no pain at being unfairly blamed for Akane's disappearance. Rather, he stared at the distraught man with perfect understanding and sympathy.

'How sad was that?' she thought to herself. That Ranma would understand Mr. Tendo's lashing out while she jumped to conclusions . . .

"This Brushogun guy just made the biggest mistake of his life," Ranma began in a quietly confident tone of voice. "Nobody kidnaps Akane and gets away with it. I swear that I'll get her back, I'll get her back or die trying."

Once again, almost too quiet to hear, Ryu mumbled to himself, "It better not come to that." The boy looked away and crossed his arms in annoyance.

Slowly, Mr. Tendo looked Ranma in the eyes, measuring the young man carefully. Then, he nodded, as if coming to a decision. He then pushed himself off of Ranma, standing straight once more. "I-I believe you, Ranma. I have faith that you will bring her back, just as you've always done. However, if I can't help you in the battle to come, then at least I will help you prepare for the fight," stated the, now deadly serious, martial artist.

Ranma just nodded, agreeing easily with Mr. Tendo. "Alright, but we'll start tomorrow. Why don't you show Thunder and Lightning to the Dojo, they can stay there since Ryu is in Nabiki's room and Natsume and Kurumi are in Kasumi's?" he suggested.

Well, it hardly mattered to Natsume where everyone slept, really, but she was interested in learning more about their two newest comrades. After nodding solemnly, Mr. Tendo wandered over and bowed politely to the two armored young men, before leading them off towards the Dojo. Quietly, she followed after them. Honestly, the introductions had been put off long enough, she could stave off her exhaustion for a few more hours if it meant finally sating her burning curiosity.

Absently, she sensed Kurumi follow behind her . . . at least until the younger girl suddenly got a spurt of energy and bounced past her into the Dojo. She smiled weakly; it appeared her younger sister was even more eager to know about their new friends than she was. Almost out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Kumon boy rising to his feet finally. He seemed lost in indecision for a moment . . . until finally he uncrossed his arms with a sigh and started to follow them into the Dojo.

Her smile widened slightly at that. However, as observant as she was . . .

No one noticed as Ranma quietly glided up the stairs.

---

The minute flash of the digital clock as the numbers changed, yet again, drew his attention. It was the only real light in the room, asides from the dim starlight filtering under the heavy curtains, and really, it wasn't exactly doing a great job of illuminating the room. With a sigh, Ranma leaned back against Akane's bed, pulling his knees tighter to his chest.

It was well past three in the morning, and yet sleep still evaded him like Happosai on a panty raid.

It wasn't his father's incessant snoring that kept him awake, he was more than used to that by now, though it had driven him from their room. In search of silence and solitude, he had slipped into his fiancée's room after everyone had settled down for the night. Really, it was the only place he wanted to be right then. As confident as he had tried to sound for Soun, he was still worried, so much that he couldn't bare the idea of sitting around and chatting with Ryu or the others . . . as selfish as that sounded.

He took another deep breath, savoring the lingering scent of the stubborn Tomboy that hung in the air. It was odd, it wasn't like Akane hadn't been kidnapped before . . . but he'd never felt like this those other times. Sure, he'd been angry before, pissed right the hell off, even, and charging off without a moments notice to beat down whatever jerk had been stupid enough to do it . . .

But this wasn't like those times, was it? Like he'd said, this wasn't some idiot prince looking for a bride, or ol' Pantyhose Tarou trying to get his name changed. In the former situations, Akane's greatest threat had been getting fat from eating all the fancy food or getting all tangled up in some ridiculously expensive clothing. In the latter case, well, even as much of a jerk as Tarou was, all he wanted was his name changed. People didn't brutally murder other people just to get their name changed . . .

His eyes squeezed painfully closed as he vainly tried to shut out the images his imagination conjured at that thought. What Brushogun had wrote in that letter . . . what he had threatened to do to Akane . . .

Gods, could he really do this? Was this the kind of stuff that actual super heroes had to deal with all the time? When had everything gone so crazy? What happened to his carefree days of fighting endless and pointless duels just for the sake of fighting endless and pointless duels? Where all of his enemies cried "Prepare to die!" but none of them really meant it. As bad as Ryouga had been, as Ryu had been, heck even as bad as Herb had been, it had always just been a challenge, someone to test his skills against. They all wanted something, that something just happened to involve beating the tar out of one Saotome Ranma, but none of them were ever a threat to his friends, his family.

Well, that wasn't entirely true . . . There had been one opponent that had drawn these feelings out of him before.

When they had faced down with the Headmaster . . . He shuddered unconsciously at the memory. He'd stared death in the face several times that night, his own death, Ryouga's death, Akane's death; he'd thought they were all goners there a few times. For just a moment there, when the Headmaster had vanished with a comatose Ryouga, Ranma had felt a fraction of what he felt now; knowing that someone that was almost like a cornerstone in his life was helpless at the hands of a madman.

Oddly, though, as brutal as that fight had been, he'd never really doubted their victory. With Ryouga at his side and Raven at his back . . . especially with Raven at his back, he just knew they would win.

So . . . why didn't he feel that same unshakable faith now? Heck, he had twice as many superheroes at his back and three times as many martial artists at his side, so why was he still so worried?

A sudden beep shattered the deathly silence. So involved in his thoughts, Ranma didn't even think to panic and start frantically searching for a bomb . . . really, it'd been weeks since he'd fought that power ranger wannabe anyway. A tiny jolt of enthusiasm seemed to pop out of seemingly nowhere, as he pulled out the round device from his pocket. It shone . . . well, actually, under the non-existent light of the alarm clock, it was pretty much just a round patch of black on the hand shaped patch of black beneath it. Of course, he was pretty use to these late night talks, so he flipped open the tiny communicator without any trouble.

He had to look away for a second, as the tiny view screen flashed to life before him. It took him a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the sudden flood of light . . . flood of light being relative here. Unsurprisingly, the screen was filled with the pale face and violet hair of the Titan known as Raven; not that he'd have it any other way.

Somehow, despite everything, a moxibustion weak smile curled up the corner of his mouth. "Well, speak of the devil," he murmured quietly.

Any other time, he would have laughed madly as Raven sputtered indignantly at his greeting. A moment later, she leveled a glare at him that would have taken his head off if he had been anywhere on the same continent with her. "You have no idea how much I loathe that expression," she growled in that cutely irate manner she seemed to use constantly when speaking to him.

He forced himself to chuckle weakly. She wasn't actually in the room with him, so maybe he could fool her into thinking everything was alright, the last thing he wanted to do was burden his friend with his problems, or heaven forbid, have her pass those problems onto the tower's other residents. "Sorry 'bout that, Rae, I guess I wasn't thinking. So to what do I owe the honor of your call, it is kinda late, ya know?"

Raven nodded, her own smile looking a little more strained than usual as well. It seemed like she had something on her mind too. He chuckled sadly to himself, what a pair they were. "Well, Beast Boy managed to stumble across your rather impressive fight on the news last night," she started off. The corner of her mouth curved just another fraction of an inch, starting to look more like a sincere smile. "Though I'm loathe to admit it, I was worried about you and I wanted to make certain that you were unharmed."

Something odd happened in Ranma's chest then, some kind of odd tightness that he couldn't identify. He had no idea what it meant, but he found himself looking away and blinking his eyes rapidly, feeling an extremely uncharacteristic buildup of moisture beginning to form.

She had been worried about him? She'd wanted to make sure he was okay? Well . . . damn . . . there was a first time for everything it seemed. Rather forcefully, he pushed the unfamiliar feelings back down where they belonged, healthily twisted up into a tight little ball and safely bottled up. A second later, he looked back to his friend, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

"Heh, but, Rae, I thought you didn't do worried?"

The young sorceress rolled her eyes in bemusement. "Yes, well I generally make exceptions for people that get into fights with anything over ten stories tall. Of course, if you tell anyone about this rule of mine, I shall be forced to hurt you," she replied in good humor.

Against his will, his smile grew a fraction of an inch at her words. His fingers tightened around the cool plastic of the communicator for a moment as he berated himself for being happy for a moment. What was he doing? Hadn't he just thought to himself that he didn't want to talk to anyone, and yet here he was, actually smiling at a pretty girl?

Gods, Ryouga was right, he was an enemy of women.

"Yeah," he continued hesitantly, "Well, it was touch and go there for a bit, but I had a lot of help. Heh, I already told ya bout Ryu, and Akane's sisters, but we actually got two more people helpin us now. Heh, these ones pretty much just dropped out of the sky, even."

One of the girl's eyebrows arched cutely, as she looked at him with a knowing expression on her face. "Yes, we saw them on the news. My only regret is that you weren't there to see Beast Boy's face when he saw our old friends, Thunder and Lightning, show up. I must say, none of us were expecting that."

Ranma nodded for a moment, before doing a double take. "Wait a sec! You know those two? Man, talk about your small world, here. So what, did they help you take out some other bad guy back in the good ol' days?" he asked in amusement. Man, what were the odds of running into someone that the Titans had already worked with?

The other corner of Raven's perfect lips curved up, turning her amused smirk into a genuine smile. "Actually, they were terrorizing our fair city when we first met them. It turned out to be quite the battle, I must admit those two were a handful. Luckily, though I can't imagine how, our earnest little Beast Boy helped them to see the error of their ways. I think they'll make a good addition to your team, they are quite powerful," she explained.

He just shook his head in amusement. "You actually fought those guys? Sheesh, can I not get one person to work with that wasn't an antagonist at one time or another? And what's this team stuff that you're talkin 'bout? I ain't startin up no Titans Way Far East here, just doin my best to stop this Brushogun guy from tearin about the city," he replied earnestly.

Hell, he didn't wanna say it out loud, especially not to Raven, but he didn't even know if he wanted to continue with this whole super hero thing. Of course, he was going to take down Brushogun, whoever the heck the jerk was, and get back Akane, but . . . but after that . . . he just wasn't sure he could do it. There was just so much more at stake than he was used to . . .

"Ranma?" a concerned voice cut through the darkness.

He suddenly started. Looking at the clock, he realized that he'd been spaced out for a whole minute, just contemplating everything that had gone wrong lately.

"Is everything all right?" she asked again, her voice becoming slightly insistent.

The pigtailed boy shook his head quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Um . . . uh, yeah, everything's fine on my end, just a little tired . . . yeah, that's it," he replied lamely.

He noticed that sometime during his loss of attention, his tele-friend's warm smile had descended into a worried frown. And as soon as she heard his rather pathetic response, her usually intense gaze became even more so.

"What's wrong, Ranma? I know I haven't known you very long, but I've never seen you look so . . . frightened before," she stated, a tiny amount of wonder in her voice.

Quietly, Ranma weighed his options. He could continue trying to ineffectually hide his problem, continue deceiving one of the few people that actually considered him to be an honest and true friend . . . or, or he could just get over himself and tell her the truth. As much as it would hurt his pride to admit that things weren't under his control here, this was Raven; he knew he could trust her.

This time there was nothing he could do to stop the water beading up at the corner of his eyes. He could almost feel the strength drain from his body and he curled up into a ball in front of Akane's bed, clutching the communicator tightly in his hands.

"It-it's Akane," he said in anguish. "While we were out fighting off that monster, that Brushogun guy came in and kidnapped her!"

Raven let out a shocked gasp. "No!" Suddenly, there was a flurry of motion behind Raven, it looked like the girl was quickly rising to her feet. "I'll tell Robin right away, we'll be there within a day at the most," she stated rapidly.

"Gods, no!" he nearly shouted. He quieted down instantly, looking around suspiciously to hear if anyone had awoken to his outburst. He then looked down to the surprised face of Raven.

"What do you mean: 'no'?" she asked in confusion.

He let out a long sigh. "Look, don't take it the wrong way, Raven. I mean, if it were just you, then I'd say 'sure, come on over', but you can't tell anyone else over there what happened, not Kasumi and 'specially not Ryouga," he stated emphatically.

She offered him a quizzical look. "Why ever not? Kasumi is her sister, and Ryouga would be the most insistent on helping you to rescue Akane."

He took her quizzical look and returned it in the form of an incredulous stare. "If you tell Kasumi, all it'll do is worry her, and . . . um, do you even know Hibiki Ryouga? If you tell him that Akane got kidnapped while I was out doin something else, that moron will be here in fifteen minutes trying his best to brutally murder me." Not that he was actually worried about Ryouga trying to kill him . . . not really, it would just be a major distraction that he couldn't afford.

. . . And . . . he hadn't exactly figured out how to beat the guy's new toughness yet.

"You really shouldn't say such terrible things about your friend, Ranma, he was just as worried about you as I was," she fired back, sounding slightly miffed. Well, it seemed Raven and Akane did have one thing in common, they both seemed to take Ryouga's side in an argument. Then suddenly the last thing that Raven had said rang through his mind.

He let out a disbelieving snort. "Ryouga actually said he was worried about me?"

Raven chose that moment to look at something on the ground uncertainly. "Well, not in so many words, no. He did grumble about you getting all the good fights for a bit, and he did call you an insufferable showoff when all of you did that last attack, but trust me, he was still really worried," she answered rather unconvincingly.

Ranma shook his head at that. Yeah, right, like the Lost Boy would actually be worried about him. "Look, as much as I'd appreciate your help, Brushogun has us over a barrel here. He knows where we live and he's probably watching us already. He set up a duel for a week from tonight and said if we try to find him before that, that he'll kill Akane. If six more super heroes suddenly show up and start scouring the city for him, Akane is as good as dead," he explained. He was starting to feel angry again, though not at Raven, or her generous offer to help. Rather it was the feeling of helplessness that he hated so much, he hadn't felt it this badly for weeks and he'd been quite happy at the absence.

His violet eyed friend nodded in understanding. "Very well, I won't tell the others, for now. However, if things go badly at the duel, I want you to tell me, we'll help you any way that we can, I promise."

He smirked weakly, her words lifting his sorely sagging spirits a tiny bit. "Don't you worry, Rae, I got this in the bag. Heh, though I gotta admit, I was half expecting some bigwig in a cape to drop in on the fight tonight. I mean, it ain't every night that a twenty story nuclear lizard goes rampaging through downtown Tokyo . . . contrary to popular belief," he joked half heartedly.

Strangely though, Raven seemed to take his joke much more seriously than he intended. Rather than grace him with one of her mysterious little smiles, or even more rare and precious, an actual giggle, she shook her head from side to side, her lips pressed together in a flat line.

"The Justice League won't be interfering with any of your battles," she stated in a strangely serious tone.

He looked at her curiously. "Huh? Why the heck not? I mean, sure, a lot of the stuff lately has been pretty small and quick, but aren't they supposed to look out for the really big stuff?" he asked, confused.

The corner of her mouth quirked up a fraction of an inch. "They will not, because we told them not to," she explained quietly.

"What?" He clapped his hand over his mouth, hoping he didn't wake up anyone with his latest outburst. He continued more quietly, nearly hissing. "You told them not to help me?"

Raven rolled her eyes once again; hmm girls seemed to do that a lot around him, he wondered why. "We did, but not in the way that you think. You see, when the Titans first started, Robin had a long argument with his mentor, the Batman."

"Really? Why the heck did he do that?" he asked, interested despite himself.

The pretty girl let out a long sigh. "Apparently, Batman was very concerned about the makeup of our team. After all, we were all so young, some of us barely into our teens when Robin brought us together. It was glaringly obvious that he didn't think we could handle the rigors of functioning as a team of superheroes."

Ranma grumbled to himself, stupid adults, always acting like they knew what was best for everyone. Gods, if he listened to everything his pops told him, he be married ten times over and dead twenty.

"As you can imagine, Robin disagreed with him in a most heartfelt manner. Robin was aware that we were young, that was the whole idea really. He didn't want to bring together a group of individuals, he wanted to grow a real team. He also knew that would be impossible with such an imposing safety net hanging under us, waiting to clean up after us if we ever messed up," she continued quietly.

He nodded silently, he could definitely understand that. People had to do things for themselves, having someone watching over your shoulder to make sure you were doing it right, it was probably the most condescending thing he could think of. Of course, the only one that fell into that category for him would be Cologne, but she understood that fact better than anyone. She would offer training and advice, but when it came down to fighting, he was always on his own.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"So, after a most verbal debate, it was agreed that the Justice League would stay out of our affairs and we would stay out of theirs. Of course, since you are an honorary member of our team, and more importantly, you have one of our communicators, you won't see any of the old guard at any of your fights."

Ranma let out a loud snort at that. "Feh, so Batsie gets into a cussing match with Robin, and now none of them will help us out at all, no matter how bad it gets? Man, talk about your world class jerks!"

"Well, that's not exactly true," she interrupted his rant abruptly. "The League isn't quite that fickle. They'll gladly give us their help at any given moment, all we have to do . . . is ask for it," Raven trailed off meaningfully.

The pigtailed boy mulled that particular piece of information over for a moment. So, all they needed to do to get help from the head honchos was ask for it, eh? All they needed to do was crawl back to Robin's mentor, tell him that he was right, they were wrong and that they actually couldn't handle the big bad battle against evil all by their lonesome.

He let out a harsh bark of laughter. Ranma was pretty damned sure that he would choke to death if he ever tried to swallow his own pride like that; he imagined it was pretty much the same for Robin and everyone else as well.

"So," he chuckled weakly, "No help from the Justice League then, eh?"

Against all expectation, he was rewarded with the rarest of the rare, Raven actually laughed.

"Yes, that sums it up nicely. Now, please, tell me everything that happened."

---

Ryu stretched out languidly on the smooth tiles beneath him. The afternoon sun was just warm enough to offset the slight chill in the breeze, so he found himself in an almost mythical aura of comfort that he rarely had time to enjoy. Lying back on the gentle slope of the roof, he casually placed his hands behind his head so that he could still watch the goings on in the backyard below him.

He did feel like a bit of a slacker, resting on the roof while Natsume and Kurumi were still training, but then, he'd slept terribly last night anyway. It had been an exhausting night after all, not to mention getting pummeled by a waterfall of green ooze had left him with a few more aches and pains than he'd let on. Even worse was the taste that he just couldn't get out of his mouth, no matter what he did. Idly, his tongue scrubbed the inside of his mouth for a moment, before he was forced to spit the tainted saliva onto the roof beside him.

Not that he'd tell anyone else, but he was having a difficult time getting as worked up over that Akane girl's kidnapping as Natsume and everyone else did. But, hey, it wasn't like he really knew the girl or anything. Sure, he'd help out, but they couldn't expect him to get all bent out of shape over it, could they? It wasn't like it really affected him that much.

Besides, Mr. High-and-mighty Ranma hadn't even shown his face all day. The Yamasen-ken master had expected to see Saotome waiting for all of them in the Dojo that morning, just itching to train. Obviously the whole kidnapping thing hit him harder than Ryu had expected. He let out a quiet snort.

Man, what a pansy.

His quiet snort turned into an annoyed grunt, as a small cloud somehow positioned itself perfectly to block the warming rays of the sun. Then his annoyance blossomed further, as the errant cloud seemed to grow larger, if only to spite his furtive attempts to relax.

Wait a second, the cloud wasn't growing, it was dropping . . . right towards him!

For a fraction of a second, a fraction of a second which he regretted immediately, he panicked. But then realization rolled over him in a wave. Once again kicking himself for his momentary lapse in judgment, he put on his most disinterested face and looked back down into the yard to watch Natsume and Kurumi dance around Mr. Tendo in an intricate spar.

A few seconds later, the small nimbus lowered down to his side and the soft spoken Thunder dropped silently to the roof beside him. Maintaining his aloof appearance, Ryu simply rolled his eyes in the big guy's direction and gave him a simple nod of recognition. Pleasantly, Thunder just returned the quiet gesture, rather than offer up some inane attempt at conversation. A moment later, the creaking of leather and metal sounded as the super human youth lowered himself to the roof as well, sitting quietly at his side to watch the display in the backyard.

Not that Ryu didn't like the guy or anything, he could definitely appreciate having someone around that didn't feel the need to clutter up every given minute with endless chattering. Not like that motor-mouthed brother of his, or that Kurumi girl. Heck, he could do with a few more people like Thunder and Natsume, they were the most pleasant company that he'd had in awhile.

Down below them, Natsume and Kurumi were artfully teaming up on Mr. Tendo now, the old man showing a surprising amount of skill. Where he had been hiding it, Ryu had no idea. Of course, it was obvious that Natsume was holding back, only using her conventional attacks, but it was still impressive nonetheless. Hmm, maybe he'd ask the chilling brunette to spar later, maybe he could incorporate some of her wind based attacks into his Yamasen-ken if he could figure them out. There were some very basic similarities in execution, so who knew?

Absently, he swiveled his eyes to look at his dark skinned companion. They'd made some brief introductions last night, though Ranma had skipped out, but there was one thing that he'd wanted to ask the big guy all night.

"Hey, Thunder," he started in an off-hand tone.

In a most casual manner, Thunder turned to face him, leaning back onto his elbows comfortably. "Yes?" he asked simply.

Ryu chuckled to himself, yes, for a physical representation of thunder, Thunder himself was a very quiet person. "I was just wonderin, why the heck did you guys stick around last night? I mean, it sounds like it's gonna get pretty dangerous and this has nothing to do with you guys."

The large teen looked at him owlishly for several moments, apparently mulling over his question carefully. Ryu waited patiently, mindful of his companion's contemplative nature. Finally, Thunder replied, in that deep, rumbling voice of his. "There are two reasons for our remaining with your group. First is because we are searching for something. We are not certain where it is, but we have followed it this far. Considering the beast we ran into last night, we believe that this area is worth investigating further."

Hmm, that was interesting. He was about to ask him just what they were looking for, when the blue skinned boy continued.

"The second reason is because we also believe that you would benefit from our help. Had that monster been a singular instance, we likely would have left soon after, but when your Police Lieutenant explained that there has been a number of these monsters attacking recently, and all apparently related, it only makes sense that we should remain here at least long enough to help you defeat whoever is behind these beasts," the young man finally finished what was probably one of the longest run on sentences that Ryu could remember.

He thought about the response for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "Why does it make sense for you to get involved in a fight you don't know anything about?"

Thunder contemplated this question much more quickly than the last. Smiling a small smile, the thunder spirit answered enthusiastically. "Because it is our duty to help those in need and to protect the innocent." The boy curled his fingers into a tight fist, azure light crackling loudly from between them. "Our powers are great, thus we bear a great responsibility to use them wisely. A young man, wise beyond his years, taught me that at a great personal cost."

"Feh, that's bullcrap," the Kumon Heir scoffed loudly.

His companion stared at him, completely unable to comprehend what he'd just uttered. Finally, after a moment of staring at him in shock, Thunder could only mutter quietly. "What do you mean?"

Ryu shrugged again, once more looking down to the spectacle below. "Look, just because you have some fancy powers, it doesn't mean that you're actually obligated to do anything with them. I mean, did you ask for your powers, or anything like that? Either way, you don't owe anyone anything, but yourself. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you should go on a rampage or anything, or that helping people out isn't a good thing, but your first responsibility should always be to yourself. After all, what good is saving everyone else, if all it gets you is the shaft?"

"The . . . shaft? I'm not certain I understand what you mean," inquired the gentle giant.

Ryu rolled his eyes in amusement. "I mean, what good is making other people happy, if you aren't happy yourself? If all you're gonna do is fly around and help people, then people are just gonna think of you like some kind of suped up civil servant. Heck, at least cops get paid for doing that kinda thing all the time."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the utterly confused look on his companion's face. It seemed pretty obvious that this had been the last conversation he'd expected to have. Then some kind or realization formed on the guy's face and his look became serious once more. "But, are you not helping to stop these villains because it is the right thing to do? Are not our companions down below also doing the same?" Thunder asked, slightly forceful, slightly confused.

The Kumon Heir just shook his head, chuckling weakly. "Heh, sorry to burst your bubble, big guy, but I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I'm getting something very important from helping Saotome out here, something I couldn't do without. Don't think our pretty ladies down there are doin this for free either. Sure, the good intention is there, but Natsume has some pragmatic reasons of her own. She's solely responsible for taking care of her sister, who eats like a horse by the way, so doing this gets her free room and board for awhile."

Thunder just stared at him, perhaps a bit sadly.

"Hey now, Thunder, don't get too upset there. I'm not saying that any of us wouldn't be doing this if we weren't getting anything out of it, I'm just asking you, is it wrong that we should be able to benefit from helping others as well? I don't know about you, but Natsume, Kurumi and I are all orphans, we don't have any family or homes to go back to, so why the heck shouldn't we get something out of risking our lives?" As soon as he finished, he took a few deep breaths, that had been a longer speech than any he'd given in recent memory.

Slowly, his companion's head began to nod up and down, an expression of understanding beginning to form. "Hmm, you have . . . given me much to think upon. One must not completely forget oneself when helping others. As you say, were Natsume to accept our host's hospitality or refuse it, either way she would still be responsible for caring and providing for her sister. To refuse what is freely offered, though noble, would be foolish."

Ryu nodded, smiling happily. "There ya go. There's nothing wrong with helping people, just remember to help yourself out every once in awhile too. Heck, even Saotome, our oh so noble role model got a free motorcycle and a bunch of other junk out of this too, hmph, wherever the guy is."

Once again, his large companion nodded, though this time leaning back to rest once more on the tiled roof beneath him. True to his words, the large teen seemed to be thinking about their conversation. Not that Ryu wanted to turn the guy all jaded and cynical or anything, but he seemed like a decent guy and Ryu didn't want to see him get taken advantage of all the time. After all, the only thing that people love more than cheering a hero on, is tearing a hero down.

Feeling his earlier sense of comfortable calm settling back over him in the companionable silence that surrounded them, he let his eyes linger once more on a certain long haired beauty. The girl in question was just in the midst of leaping over the older Tendo, mixing up her attacks with a few kicks. His eyebrow rose slightly at that, it was good to see her getting away from her over reliance on her weapon. As excellent as her technique was, it was still the most basic weakness of any fighter that relied on their weapon, that as soon as you removed said weapon the fight was pretty much over.

It wasn't until nearly ten minutes later, that the silence was once again broken. This time Thunder started off, looking at him with a sly smile on his face.

"You love her, do you?" he asked, a tiny note of amusement in his deep voice.

It was all that he could do, to stop himself from scoffing out loud. Instead, he let out a burst of mirthless laughter as he turned to regard his smiling companion. "What on earth brought that on? You just enjoy jumping to conclusions?"

Thunder just smiled wider. "I apologize if I embarrass you. I do not mean to insinuate anything, but, the way that you look at her so often, I must wonder if you are smitten with her?"

Ryu let out a long sigh at that. There were way too many old fashioned and hopeless romantic types around here. "Please, I look at her like that because she's hot. It doesn't mean I'm in love with her, it just means I'm a guy."

"She is . . . hot?" Ryu rolled his eyes again, yeah, definitely too many old fashioned people.

"It means that she's attractive, you do know what that means, don't you?" he asked a bit condescendingly.

His companion scowled darkly, a veritable thundercloud forming on his face. A moment later, he crossed his arms in a huff. "I understand what it means for a woman to be attractive, thank you. There is no need to be insulting."

The bandanna wearing boy chuckled lightly, but decided to take pity on his new friend. "Heh, I know you do, considering the way that you've been looking at Kurumi down there yourself," he trailed off suggestively.

This time the darkening of Thunder's cheeks was for a completely different reason. "I do not know what you speak of, Ryu. To possess such base thoughts concerning a fellow warrior would be unseemly and disrespectful," he answered rather hastily.

An actual burst of laughter escaped from Ryu's lips at that. "Oh, man, Thunder, you really need to calm down. It's just us guys up here, and guys are allowed to look at cute girls . . . well, as long as it's not peeping at them through windows or in the shower or anything indecent like that. Besides, as young as she acts, I'm pretty sure she's somewhere between fourteen and sixteen; you can't be much older than sixteen or seventeen yourself, can you, kid?" he asked good-naturedly.

Thunder nodded, still blushing slightly. "I am seventeen years of age. I-I am thankful that you are so understanding, I have never really had anyone to speak to about these kinds of things. My brother is always so focused on finding fun, and dislikes speaking about serious matters."

Ryu waved the younger boy's concerns off casually. "Heh, I'd hardly call this a serious matter, but I can imagine it'd be uncomfortable talking to your brother about something like this. You just can't take things so serious. Looking at a girl doesn't mean you're in love with them or anything . . . I mean, I guess it can, sometimes, but it doesn't have to. Heck, I only met Natsume a week ago, you only met the squirt last night. It'd be pretty ridiculous if anything could develop that quickly."

It was finally Thunder's turn to laugh happily. He then rose up, dropping his arms casually onto his raised knees as he watched the battle down below. "Again, you make such simple, yet profound statements. Still, despite what you say, it is not simple attraction that I feel when I gaze upon her. Perhaps it is nothing even involving affection, what I feel when I look at her is the desire to protect her, to shield her from any harm that the world might visit upon her. I know to think such things about a fellow warrior is unworthy, but I find myself unable to do otherwise."

With a quiet laugh, Ryu nodded. "A nice thought, but you better not let her hear you say that. That's just the kind of thing that will get you a black eye around these parts," he warned.

His companion looked back at him owlishly. "Do you not feel the same desire to protect Natsume that I feel for her sister?" he asked curiously.

"Heck, no!" he barked out emphatically.

"What?" barked back his companion in disbelief.

This time, Ryu met the boy's stormy eyes with a serious gaze. "I have absolutely no desire to protect her, because I know that she can take care of herself. Really, it's one of her top three attributes . . . don't ask me to name the other ones or which order they're in, though. It's just that, I don't think I'd be as interested in her as I am if she wasn't as strong and independent as she is. Not that I'm really putting too much thought into it, anyway." he admitted casually.

Thunder returned his look, a bit confused. "What do you mean? You sound as if you are indeed putting a lot of thought into it, and yet now you claim that you are not?"

Ryu just shrugged, starting to wonder why the heck he was even going on like this. Admittedly, Thunder was a much easier person to talk to, considering this conversation hadn't even gotten past the first sentence when he'd tried to start it with Ranma last night. Man, what had he been thinking?

"Well, as cute as she is, and as nice as it is to think about that kind of stuff, I really doubt anything can come of it. I mean, we both have our own paths to follow. She has a sister to take care of, I have a Dojo to rebuild, I can't imagine our paths will cross again after this fight has finally finished. I'm afraid it'll probably be the same for you. After all, you and your brother are gonna be going off to look for . . . whatever it is you're looking for," he explained at length.

Again, the thunder spirit nodded in agreement. "Yes, you are correct on that. I know not why, but I am certain that what we are looking for is not here," said the somber young man.

Hmm, speaking of which, "Hey, what the heck are you guys looking for, anyway?"

Suddenly, a strange feeling of foreboding settled over him, as Thunder suddenly gained a far away look in his eyes. Slowly, his companion leaned forward, his armor creaking loudly in protest, before turning to face him fully.

"We . . . are not certain what it is that we are looking for. Something has been stirring, though, something which is putting all of nature on edge. Because of our powers, my brother and I can feel it as well. Not clearly, or definitively, but as an undercurrent of unease which has been growing slowly for several months now," stated the young man in hushed tones.

Ryu shivered slightly, though he couldn't imagine why. "Do you have any idea what it could mean? Maybe it has something to do with all of these attacks here lately?"

Thunder seemed to contemplate this for a moment, his chin raising and lowering slowly as he thought. "We had considered that, but after facing that beast, sensing its power, we do not believe it is the same as what we seek. Whatever it is that we seek, all we know is that its very essence runs counter to the natural world, unbalancing it somehow. We know not what could possess such a malevolent power, but we know we must find it before it is too late."

Another shiver skittered down his spine, much to his annoyance. As if just talking about something could actually trigger such a reaction in such a powerful martial artist as himself? Grumbling slightly, he angrily quashed any concerns that he might have been feeling. Just some superstitious nonsense, nothing for him to worry about. All of this weird talk was killing the mood for his comfortable relaxation. "Heh, the way you're going on . . ."

"You'd think you were chasing down a demon"

---

Her world swirled painfully around her, a chaotic mass of darkness shot through by random flashes of color. It was all she could do to hold down the contents of her stomach as the world lurched around her so suddenly after her senses returned to her. She hadn't even had the chance to open her eyes yet, before the nausea of her throbbing head began to assault her. The next thing she noticed as her body began to wake up as well, was a dull, painful ache in her shoulders. Oddly, she couldn't feel her arms at all, a fact that she was fairly sure should have worried her a lot more than it was in her half conscious state.

Groaning weakly, Akane finally opened her eyes. Sadly, the darkness didn't vanish with that simple act as she hoped it would. Rather the darkness of her mind's eye simply gave way to the darkness of an unlit room. It was about then, that she noticed something else. Though her legs were not supporting her at all, she seemed to be standing somehow . . . the more logical part of her mind that was currently located way in the back seemed to think it had something to do with the fact that she couldn't feel her arms. Unfortunately, the part of her mind that was in charge of panicking was starting to work overtime, once again tragically muting her logic center.

With a sudden start, she launched herself forward, trying vainly to escape the terrifying confines of the blackened room. She only made it a few feet, before the pain in her shoulders suddenly blossomed into twin suns of pain. A second later, she stumbled back, pulled by some unseen tether to slam heavily into the wall behind her. Her head connected with the hard wall giving off a resounding crack and causing another swirl of colors to fill her spinning vision.

The only thing that registered, as she swung limply from side to side, was the sound of rattling chains above her head. The sudden pain of nearly splitting her skull against a concrete wall did clear up her panic rather quickly though. Letting out a small whimper, she carefully placed her feet under her and slowly stood up to her full height. Almost immediately, the fires in her shoulders diminished, dying back to the dull ache that she had felt earlier.

The absconded Tendo then took in a deep breath, doing her best to calm herself and block out the pain echoing through her skull. It wasn't like she'd never been kidnapped before, much to her eternal annoyance, but she had never been treated like this before. And worst of all, for the life of her, she couldn't remember how she had gotten into this mess either. The last thing she remembered was watching the tail end of the news report after Ranma's fight . . .

Something danced at the back of her mind, vague images, blurs of vision . . . but nothing coherent formed to explain how she had gotten to be in such a disagreeable situation. Well, she'd certainly had enough of this, so she decided to go with her fall back response to these situations.

"Hey!" she yelled at the top of her very loud lungs. "What in the world is going on here?"

After all, anger was always more productive than panic.

As if in response to her angry inquiry, blinding light suddenly filled the room. She was forced to look away, vainly trying to cover her face as the harsh light dug into her darkness attenuated eyes. It took several moments of grumbling and hurried blinking before the world finally started to resolve itself back into the colors and shapes that she was used to.

And then she froze, shocked into stillness by the sight that faced her. Four eerie, vacant stares met her own, it was just creepy enough to lock up her brain for a moment. What was worse, was that as soon as her train of thought fired up again, she recognized who was staring at her. Though she had never met him before, Ranma's description of the battle had been very detailed.

Staring back at her, were four small, metallic boys, each one with a wide, empty smile and soulless, glass eyes. One of them matched her fiancée's description perfectly, a small boy, roughly four feet tall with spiky hair and a metallic, azure sheen covering his entire body. The other three looked perfectly identical, except for being saffron, crimson and ebony respectively.

She remained perfectly still, pinned by their unnerving stares. Ranma had explained the battle in great detail, explained just how strong and seemingly invincible these machines were, how much trouble just one of these robots had given him. And here she was, surrounded by four of them now, and completely helpless to boot.

Several moments passed as she continued to watch them, watching her, watching them . . . Moments turned to minutes, but still they did nothing. Feeling her tidal wave of panic finally begin to subside again, she finally started to take in the rest of her surroundings. As she had guessed, she was being held in what looked to be a concrete structure. However, where she had been expecting a small room, it was a massive space that surrounded her, filled with various pieces of equipment that she couldn't identify. From the silent, yet constant sound of dripping to the unusually warm air, she'd guess it was some kind of boiler room or something, not that that helped her in any way at all.

And, as she suspected, she was indeed chained to the wall.

Just as she was about to make her thoughts on her incarceration known verbally, her jailers suddenly turned away from her. As if all working with the same nervous system, the four robots turned in eerie synchronization to face the far end of the room, which was still bathed in inky blackness. Akane bit her tongue, holding in her sharp words as a strange . . . slithering sound filled the air. That was the only word she could think to describe the sound, at any rate, the nerve wracking sound of something sliding wetly across the rough surface of the floor towards them.

Then, as if emerging directly from the heart of her darkest nightmares, a figure began to melt out of the darkness. It was hard to discern at first, the figure seemed to be borne from the blackness, composed of a darkness all its own which it carried with it. It seemed like a man, from a distance, though endless voids of white emptiness shone where its eyes should have been. The contrast between the infinite blackness and the unearthly white made its eyes shine madly, burning into her even from over fifty feet away.

She realized, then, what the odd slithering sound was, as the figure appeared to be wearing a long robe which pooled widely around his feet, dragging wetly behind him, as if it was soaked through. As her captor closed the distance between them, other details began to make themselves known. Strange tendrils rose up from his back, ink black, paper thin and wavering as if alive. Next she noticed how tall the man was, easily topping eight feet, somehow, though she wasn't sure how. Despite his great height, his upper body looked no larger than any normal man's, almost as if he was gliding towards her on a pair of stilts . . . though she'd never seen someone so encumbered move so smoothly.

It wasn't until the . . . man? . . . joined them under the harsh glare of the florescent tube above her head, that the final details were revealed to her. Whoever this person was, they appeared to be wrapped from head to to in . . . was that paper? It looked very much like one of those mummies she'd heard about before . . . except this mummy had been dipped into a vat of ink, too. And, unlike the movie monsters she had watched late at night, this creature's wrappings seemed to undulate and flow, they wrapped tightly around its fingers, lengthening them unnaturally into fearsome talons, it clung tightly to his face, tearing apart to form a jagged mockery of a mouth.

Honestly, she had no idea what to think about this thing that had kidnapped her.

"So, finally awake, I see," the strange creature asked in a low, liquid voice.

Still not sure what to make of this man, or his rather cliché greeting, she met his empty stare flatly.

"You chained me to a wall," she stated just as flatly.

Her stomach churned as the creature smiled at her simple words, the sounds of tearing parchment ripping the air as its vile smile widened unnaturally from one side of its face to the other. "Yes, well, I must admit that I am one who appreciates the classics."

Her captor slid forward then, as if looking for a better view of his handiwork. His forward movement was halted, though, as the four little robot boys silently moved between them, blocking his advance. Akane could only stare uncertainly as the mindlessly smiling machines gazed emptily at their master. It was almost amusing, watching the towering figure stop in the face of the tiny, child-like machines. He seemed to consider them for a moment, glaring balefully, before suddenly dropping back a step and returning his full attention to her.

"After all, while tying you to a chair would have sufficed, it just lacked the artistry of the chains." He then gestured grandly, tiny drops of liquid flying form his talons as he indicated her person. "Surely you can appreciate the scene I am trying to set here: the lovely damsel, artfully draped across the wall, her vulnerable body quivering in fear and hopelessness," he oozed almost lovingly.

Akane looked at the madman, not comprehending what he was talking about. "The scene? What on earth are you talking about? Who the heck are you, anyway?" she asked, using her burning anger to quell her chilling fear.

Her host was taken aback for a moment, before smiling even wider and bowing politely. "A thousand apologizes, my lady. I must admit that I've been without company for some time and my manners have become somewhat atrophied." The towering figure then appeared as if he was about to move forward again, but a sidelong glance at the small robots seemed to stop him once again. She just couldn't figure them out, it was too weird.

After studying his minions for a moment, the dripping figure rose from his bow, smiling that malevolent, half-mad smile of his. "Let me introduce myself, then. My name is Brushogun, the Demon Lord of Ink, Destroyer of Worlds, Master of Creation, the Shogun of Sorr-, " He broke off his rant suddenly, looking away and raising a claw to his chin in thought. "No, wait, that last one has already been done."

The youngest Tendo could only stare in confusion, absolutely nothing was making any sense. She wasn't certain her captor was evil, despite his appearance and claims, but it was quite evident that he was completely insane.

"The demon lord of ink?" she asked incredulously. Not that any of his other titles were any better, but really, the lord of ink?

Brushogun's smile vanished in a flash, his face descending into a terrifying grimace as he glared at her. "Do not mock my powers, foolish child. I possess the powers of the gods themselves, anything which I desire becomes reality, everything which I loathe is crushed beneath my heels," he whispered harshly.

Unconsciously, the four robots tightened their ranks, almost forming a fence between the two of them.

"Everything but Ranma, don't you mean?" she blurted out without thinking. Her eyes widened at her own baseless bravado and she would have slapped her hands over her mouth if they weren't hanging lifelessly above her head. Where on earth had that come from? This wasn't the time for her to be using her stock 'Ranma will save me, just you wait and see' dialogue.

Her captor's sneer darkened at her words and the writhing paper banners protruding from his back began to whip about like angry snakes, droplets of ink splattering the floor loudly. Brushogun's eyes narrowed dangerously as he leaned forward, easily towering over the tiny automatons.

"Oh, fear not, my dear. Your beloved fiancé, he will die. None can stand before the power of Brushogun and survive," he hissed like acid.

"You mean, asides from the five or six times that he's already beaten your lackies?" she spouted again, not sure where the belligerent words were coming from. It was obviously Ranma's fault, somehow!

This time, Brushogun did more than just lean forward.

"Insolent wench!"

Faster than her eye could follow, his clawed hand tore through the air, aiming to cleave her skull in twain. A terrified scream tore itself free from her lips as she tried to push herself through the concrete barrier at her back. The air screamed in agony as the jagged talons sheared through it with unnatural speed. She didn't even have time to flinch away before the razor's edge of his claw filled the entirety of her vision, preparing to drill a grizzly hole to her brain!

And then it stopped . . . Her scream lasted another few seconds, just for good measure, before it finally died out, leaving her breathless for a moment. She dared not gasp or wheeze for air though, not with the cruelly barbed tip of Brushogun's finger hovering before her naked eye, so close that a bloated drop of midnight ink dripped onto her eyelashes before running down her cheek. Not breathing, not moving, not even blinking, she held as perfectly still as she could, actually helped by the paralyzing fear that gripped her at that moment.

She had never been that frightened in her life, not even when she had seen Kasumi in the clutches of the Headmaster, as much as it shamed her to even think that. To think, that he had such perfect control that he could make such a seemingly lethal attac-

It was then that she realized exactly what had happened. Like an arctic glacier, the tip of the claw moved away from her eye, tickling her eyelashes one last time. Finally it retreated enough to allow her to actually see something beside the large black circle that had dominated her vision . . . To see the small, ebon hand wrapped tightly around Brushogun's wrist, clenched tightly enough to tear the paper skin and nearly shaking with the effort of pulling the deadly appendage away from her face.

Brushogun stared at his minion for a moment, before suddenly howling in rage, his visage twisting into an expression truly befitting the demonic nature he claimed. Instantly, the dark Mecha-Boi exploded violently, bathing everything within fifteen feet in a wave of midnight black ink. Akane gagged violently, spitting out the vile liquid that threatened to drown her, her stomach heaving at the unwelcome invasion. Again, she blinked madly, trying to rid her eyes of the offensive ooze.

Before her, looking absolutely no different for being doused in ink, Brushogun heaved and panted like a mad dog. All along the lengths of his left arm, something undulated just beneath his paper wrappings, the entire arm pulsating and writhing as if hundreds of snakes were trying to burst free from their ink soaked confines. Slowly, the arm rose up, the talons on that hand doubling in length in seconds.

Until Brushogun slammed his right hand down on his revolting wrist, forcing the arm back to his side. The struggle lasted several terrifyingly long seconds, before the limb finally ceased its stomach churning revolution.

For just a moment, his eyes closed tightly and his breathing shallow, Brushogun looked almost . . . serene to her unbelieving eyes. Then, his eyes opened once more and he rose back to his full height, casually running a hand over his slicked skull, as if smoothing out his hair.

"Heh, yes, well, those were just tests, you see. I only wished to see what your precious Saotome was capable of. You must admit, he is a marvelous specimen of reckless heroism, a truly perfect protagonist to play across from me," he continued suddenly, speaking as if he hadn't just tried to skewer her skull mere seconds ago.

For several long seconds she could only stare at him, before she finally realized that she could breathe again. Suddenly wheezing weakly, she looked up at the demon that now held her freedom in it's slimy clutches. "I-is this just a game to you? What kind of sick monster are you? You think you can just play with peoples' lives like this?"

If the expansive planes of white that composed his eyes had actually held anything so human as irises, she would have imagined that he had just rolled his eyes at her. "A game? A mere game? Don't be silly, girl, I'm not playing a game, I am writing a story! A marvelous tale, a tale of good and evil, of love and hate, of life and death! The story of a proud hero and a villainous demon; with all of the accouterments that really bring the tale to life. The gruff mentor, the noble companions and best of all, the damsel in distress!" he crowed in excitement.

Well . . . she would have stared at him as if he were mad, but she'd already come to that conclusion earlier. It was also obvious that he was murderously unstable, but somehow, the fact that it seemed that these mechanical boys were as much her saviors as her jailers emboldened her. Her own interest in the dramatic arts boiled to the surface and an idea began to form in her mind.

"But why?" she asked simply.

Brushugon, who had been waving his hands in the air and cackling madly for his part, suddenly looked down at her, confused. He leaned in closer, but not closely enough to bother the remaining Mecha-Bois.

"Why what? Why kill people, why attack your fiancée, why am I so devilishly clever?" he asked in amusement.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "No, I mean, why write that story? You have to admit, it's been done to death, pardon the pun," she replied, unable to resist giving him an impish smile.

This time, her companion reared back, holding a hand to his chest as if wounded. "Done to death? This tale is as old as time, the hero's journey, a timeless classic!" he replied defensively.

She nodded in agreement. "Exactly, every writer and their dog incorporates the hero's journey into their stories these days. It's practically a writing cliché," her verbal thrust found its mark.

"Cliche?" Brushogun's form stretched up, his head nearly brushing the ceiling as he stared at her furiously. Furiously, but not in a murderous, demonic fashion, but in the offended, prideful way that she'd seen her literature teacher use so often when a student disrespected some 'literary masterpiece' from time to time. Slowly, he then shrunk back down, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Certainly there are common dramatic themes running through my story, but it is impossible to create such an epic work without treading across the works of others. After all, there are only three basic plots that all stories can be broken down to: Man versus Man, Man versus Himself and Man versus Nature. It is all a matter of rearranging familiar components into a new and original twist on these three basic plots," he explained, sounding very much like he was trying to lecture her.

Her smile widened, he'd fallen into her trap it seemed. "See, that's the problem with popular culture these days. Everyone is so wound up in rehashing the idea of the monomyth, that it's just becoming a lazy excuse to avoid actually being creative. Besides, you forgot about Man versus God, Man versus Society, Man caught in the Middle and the Man & Woman story plots. I mean, seriously, you're hardly a man now, so where exactly did you figure that your story fell in with those other three plots?"

Take that, Mr. Haruna, give her a B minus on her literary report! She chuckled quietly on the inside as she watched her opponent's eyes widen to off-white saucers. He sputtered indignantly for a moment, spraying his three minions with inky blackness. A moment later, though, he calmed down considerably. Slowly, he drew his hand up, running a long, clawed finger across the bottom of his chin. "Hmm, I do like the sound of the Man versus God plot . . ." He pointed an irate claw at her once more. "And my story will be both original and a classic!"

Her mobility severely limited, she resorted to once again rolling her eyes to show her disagreement. "Maybe it will, but all I'm asking is why you're bothering. After all, you're only half way through and I can already tell you how it's going to end. The good guys are going to win," she stated confidently.

Brushogun let out a bark of humorless laughter. "Ha! This is my story, I am the one who controls this world. In my story, the hero will fall!" he responded forcefully.

Akane merely shrugged her painfully numb shoulders. "But then it wouldn't be a classic," she pointed out vindictively.

"What?" he spat angrily.

She shrugged again, smiling weakly, despite herself. "What can I say? People love a good villain, but no one really wants to see the bad guy win. Certainly, sometimes the good guy might die, one way or the other, but they always beat the villain. It's just what people want." Not that she wanted that to be true in this case. She couldn't even imagine what she would do if anything happened to her thick skulled fiancé. Maybe, maybe if she could talk this loon down, it wouldn't come to tha-

Her worried thoughts trailed off suddenly, as she noticed the odd way that Brushogun was staring at her. It was almost like he was studying her, or even staring right through her to something she couldn't hope to see. He began to tap a ragged claw against his chin, then, tearing tiny holes which healed instantly over and over again.

"The heroes always win . . ." he muttered quietly to himself.

Deciding to play along, she nodded enthusiastically. "That's right, the heroes always win."

His contemplative gaze died away as he returned his stare to meet her own brown eyes. Slowly, a wicked smile began to stretch across his lips. Then, suddenly, he turned away, sliding noisily towards a nearby exit. Just as he reached the door though, he turned back to look at her, his eyes staring at her over his broad shoulder.

"We shall see about that, my dear . . ."

"We shall see."

---

Ranma stared up at the imposing towers that hung above all of them. Looming silently, they cast the entire area into shadow, deepening the darkness that the setting of the sun was already providing. The Government buildings were in every way identical to they way they had looked so long ago, when he had battled Saico-Tek beneath them. However, this time they seemed to possess an ominous aura about them, as if trying to envelope them in darkness, rather than simply shading them from the sun. In fact, everything around them seemed to invoke a sense of dread in the normally upbeat young man. He could see that his companions were shifting about nervously, probably feeling the same thing.

The week had passed slowly, each minute a lesson in torture which he was forced to endure to get to this moment. Not even his tireless training made the time hasten its march, just made the tedious pace all the more acute. He was pretty certain that the only thing that had kept him sane while he waited for this day were his nightly conversations with Raven. If it weren't for her calming and deliberate words, he probably would have ended up tearing up the city in a mad search that would have killed the very person he was trying to save.

And, so there they were, Ryu, Natsume, Kurumi, Thunder and Lightning, all gathered quietly in the shadow of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office Building. Gods, that just didn't sound like a very epic place to have a duel to the death. Couldn't Brushogun have chosen some abandoned temple or distant mountain for this? At least that way they wouldn't have to worry about bystanders.

The sound of a car slowly rolling up caught his attention. Turning quickly, he watched as a familiar police vehicle pulled up beside him. A moment later, the familiar form of Lieutenant Uehara Daizo stepped out of the vehicle. The police officer wasn't dressed in his usual uniform, but rather in a long, beige trench coat with a matching fedora. It really gave him a different vibe, that was for sure. The old man nodded to him, before thumping his fist on the hood of the car. Without hesitation, the car began to roll away, before vanishing down another street.

"In for a penny, in for a pound, eh, Saotome?" barked the older man humorlessly.

"You don't have to be here, ya know? He just challenged me and my team to this duel," Ranma responded quietly.

Daizo chuckled quietly, before suddenly lashing out and smacking him upside the head! While he sputtered angrily (since hitting the old man back just wasn't allowed) the Lieutenant grumbled loudly. "What, did you lose some brain cells over the week? We've already been over this: vigilantism isn't allowed in Japan. You guys might all be working together, but you all work for me, remember?"

Ryu laughed in amusement as Ranma rubbed the back of his skull, not that it had actually hurt or anything, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Besides," the police officer continued, "I saw this whole mess start up, I'll be damned if I'm not gonna see it through to the end after all the hell I've been through."

The pigtailed boy could only nod. The two of them had fought all this way together, it'd be disappointing if the gruff old policeman wasn't here for the end as well. Uehara returned his nod, then pulled out his trusty (though completely ineffectual) revolver and his high yield energy cannon.

Ryu wandered up to join them, then, patting the Lieutenant's shoulder in a companionable manner. They bandanna clad youth the turned to scan their surroundings, an impatient look on his face. "Speaking of which, where the heck is this Brushogun guy, anyway? Didn't he say sunset, or something like that?"

"I wonder how many monsters he'll have with him," muttered Kurumi, sounding slightly worried. Not that Ranma could blame her. He knew of at least four of the guy's minions that he had managed to chase off before, but not defeat outright.

The Yamasen-ken master just scoffed loudly. "Feh, like that matters. Just as long as everyone remembers that the Catgirl is mine," he stated forcefully. Again, Ranma smiled, he couldn't even begin to express how glad he was to have someone else to deal with that particular villain. Of course . . . he was also slightly depressed, after all, he had thought up a defense to use against her and now he'd never get the chance to use it. Ah well, hardly like it mattered now.

"The only thing that matters is getting Akane back. I don't care what the rest of you do, but the first chance that I get, that's where I'm goin, got it?" he more or less ordered everyone. Rather than argue, everyone just nodded, sympathetic and serious expressions on everyone's faces.

Suddenly, Natsume strode forward, unholstering her rug beater and pointing it fiercely down the street. "The time for discussion is over, our enemy arrives," she said quietly.

Everyone turned to look where the long haired girl was pointing. It turned out to be an alleyway several buildings down. A figure almost seemed to melt out of the darkness, pulling and stretching until finally it freed itself from the hovering blackness of the alley. Whoever, or whatever it was, was as pitch black as the alley had been, not to mention inhumanely tall. Not monstrously tall, but still, tall enough to be pretty darn imposing.

The figure almost seemed to glide towards them, no feet visible beneath it's ebony robes. Oddly, for a moment it almost made him think of how Mousse had looked when they had rescued him from the Academy so long ago. The creature stopped around fifty feet away from them, half obscured by the shadows that bathed the entire street. Ranma couldn't get a good look at their foe, but, then fifty feet was an incredibly short distance to cover. If things turned sour, they could all cover that distance in a heartbeat.

Behind him, Ryu let out a dissatisfied grunt. "The moron is alone. Where the hell is that feline freak of his?"

Everyone ignored the irate youth, as the figure in the distance dipped into a low bow. Then, the creature began to speak, its voice carrying across the distance and over the winds far too clearly to be natural.

"Greetings, my dear, dear friends. I am so glad that you all came, I've been looking forward to this day for quite sometime," the figure then straightened from his bow. "Before I forget again, I am Brushogun, and I shall be your villain this wondrous night," he declared happily.

The Saotome Heir growled loudly, completely unimpressed by his enemy's theatrics. "Cut the bullshit! Where the hell is Akane, you bastard!"

In the distance, Brushogun nodded, almost as if he had forgotten that tiny detail. He then spread out his arm in a grand gesture, more damned theatrics. "Of course, how could I forget? A deal is a deal, after all."

With that, the towering man suddenly brought his arm back in with terrible force. Ranma nearly screamed in shock at what he saw next. Rather than bounce off his chest, Brushogun's clawed hand tore through his own flesh, digging angrily into his abdomen. Then, with a mighty heave and the sound of a hundred books being torn apart, the – the demon pulled his arm back out, dragging a choking and wheezing shape with it.

Without even a trace of concern for the mortal wound he had inflicted on himself, or the formless blob he had just liberated from it, he dropped it to the ground like one would drop a sack of potatoes. Almost instantly, the massive hole in Brushogun's abdomen began to close, not in the instant and flashy manner of his minions, but in a much more disturbing and graphic manner.

As amazing as the feat was, judging by his companions' gasps of shocks and cries of horror, Ranma didn't pay it even a shred of notice. The entirety of his world was currently focused on that formless blob on the pavement, coughing up a lungful of black ichor. Slowly, as the liquid flowed off of the figure, the familiar curves and features of his missing fiancee began to make themselves known.

S-she was alive! He thanked the gods for that.

However, his joy was shortlived as his vision began to turn red from rage. That bastard had nearly drowned her just so he could make a dramatic revelation! He swore, right then and there, he was going to kill that bastard, right now!

Before he could leap forward, though, Brushogun suddenly raised his hands.

"There! Your betrothed is alive, just as I promised you. Of course, her life will end shortly after yours, but still, I have kept my word. Now, I did have a grand speech prepared, however," he offered the girl at his feet a harsh glare, "Due to someone being so critical, I've decided to forgo it. So, I believe I shall just be forced to kill you all now, if you don't mind terribly."

To his side, Daizo stepped forward, a confident smirk on his weathered face. "Ha! Kill us! You and what army?"

Instantly, a smile so wide that it threatened to tear the demon's head in half appeared on Brushogun's face. Letting out a loud gout of mad laughter, the demon reached up and wiped a black tear from its eye. "Oh, you can't even imagine how glad I am that you said that," cheered the ebony demon.

Everyone turned to glare at the Lieutenant, attempting to melt the policeman into a puddle with the heat of their gazes alone. Rather than flinch, Uehara just chuckled, "Heh, come on, someone had to say it."

Ranma was tempted to kick the old man into the stratosphere, but didn't get the chance as Brushogun interrupted them once again.

"I'm so happy that at least one of you knows the lines for this scene." said the joyful Brushogun. "Now, allow me to introduce you to your executioners for the night. I must say, I spent a lot of time personally choosing the most iconic figures from all of my favorite genres. I'm sure you'll be quite happy with my selection."

With that, the four wavering banners that danced in the air behind Brushogun suddenly sprang to life. Each one lanced out, drawing long streaks of color across the pavement before their master. The streaks of color began to bubble, rising up and beginning to form and resolve themselves into humanoid shapes.

The first figure, at the far left of the street, began to take form the most quickly. What began as a dark, reddish blob, quickly shaped itself into the form of a young man, probably a year or two younger than Ranma himself. Actually, the boy seemed rather unremarkable really. The boy's black hair was swept back into an angry nest of spikes behind his head, revealing a huge forehead above his eyes. Other than that, he wore a simple, sleeveless white T-shirt and a black pair of pants. About the only thing that struck Ranma as odd, was the large piece of red fabric that was draped across the boy's shoulders, covering his right arm like a long cape.

There was something oddly familiar about the boy, but he didn't have time to think about it, since the second blob was beginning to resolve itself.

This second figure, a dark purple in color, took the shape of a young girl, perhaps even younger than the boy beside her. The master martial artist felt his heart start to drop into his stomach, though, as the girl's outfit began to take shape. A pair of tall, purple boots hugged her legs all the way up to her knees. Above that, a wide, frilly skirt of the same color flared out, barely providing even a modicum of modesty. Ranma's common sense began telling him to start running, as a black bow, surrounding an elaborate crystal formed on the girl's chest. Finally, as the purplish ooze began to spread down her arms, forming a pair of overly long white gloves, it shot out rapidly from her left hand in both directions, forming a large, unwieldy looking glaive which she spun once before slamming the butt of the weapon heavily into the pavement.

Before he could properly begin to panic over the girl's appearance though, the third tower of liquid began to rise up quickly, this one a much lighter purple color.

Except, this one didn't stop rising! It continued to rise, and spread out and rise some more . . . It didn't stop growing until it reached a staggering twelve stories in height, taking up most of the street with it's massive feet. Unfortunately, its height was by far the least imposing thing about it, as its form quickly resolved into a terrifyingly familiar figure. The tall, emaciated shape of the giant purple robot was as unmistakable as the long, lone horn that jutted out from the center of its armored head. Slashes of green, black and a large pair of pauldrons covering its shoulders just drove the point home with grim finality.

All around him, he could feel his companions' auras spike and swirl chaotically as they all shared his blooming panic. Ranma didn't even want to look at the fourth blotch, this one a very distinctive orange color, as it began to rise and take shape.

The final figure was a heavily muscled man, the only adult in the group. His long, black hair was styled into hanging spikes large enough to put the first boy's to shame. Draped across his body, was an orange martial arts gi, a white circle over his heart signifying the school he trained in. Wrapped around each of the man's wrists was a dark blue bracer, each matching the color of the undershirt he wore under his gi.

Turning to face his friends with sluggish movements, Ranma took in their shocked, and surprised faces. Sadly, he was pretty sure that they were all looking at the forty meter giant, thinking that was the biggest threat. None of them knew the true depths of the hell they were about to be thrust into.

"Guys," he began hoarsely.

"We are completely fu-"