Note: Slight warning for this chapter. Get's a bit adult and dark midway through. And by adult I mean some fairly uncomfortable given the principle cahraters involved. Viewer discression is advised ;)

Hell is a Martial Artist
By Ozzallos

Chapter VI

Ding-ding!

Nabiki Tendo's senses perked up as the sounding of the front gate bell, yet the ringing failed to move her from her favorite position on the couch in front of the TV. The TV was not on at the moment in favor of the glossy teen fashion magazine she was reading. The pitched died off and she shrugged mentally, turning back to her magazine. Answering the door was a menial task for menial people and she had better things to do with her—

Ding-ding-ding!

"Nabiki, could you get that?" Her elder sister's courteous request floated from the kitchen and the ice queen scowled faintly, setting aside her magazine. As annoying as having the task delegated to her person was, it was a fair trade all things considered. If Kasumi could cook for her, she could at least see who was at the gate. The middle Tendo crossed the living room, sliding into a pair of sandals at the door and walked out into a beautiful blue Saturday afternoon. Halfway to the gate, the bell sounded off a third salvo, irritating Nabiki further.

"Alright, alright," She griped, reaching the gate. Whoever it was, they were rapidly earning their way up her shit list and she mentally drew up plans to extract funds from whoever was on the other side of the wooden gate. Probably not a martial artist, she mused as she unlatched the bar holding the gate closed. After all, the walls are still intact.

She swung the courtyard entrance just in time to find a completely leather clad blonde reaching up to give the bell another good yank. She fixed the woman with a glare. "That won't be necessary."

The stranger smiled sweetly and pulled away from the device, allowing Nabiki to concentrate on her partner, a taller white haired woman with a rich tan. She could tell it was a rich tan by the business jacket skirt combination. While the black pencil skirt was a modest- if tight -length, she literally wore nothing beneath the jacket, ensuring her charms strained against the minimally buttoned garment. Fiancees, Nabiki instantly categorized the pair with a mental shark's smile while favoring them with an outwardly cool mask. Time for the blood letting.

"Five thousand yen."

"My, how abrupt," Purple eyes considered the girl with barely veiled humor. "And what, exactly, would parting with my hard earned funds buy me?"

"Saotome's whereabouts, of course." Nabiki replied, absolutely confident in her position. Barely dressed women arriving at the dojo could only mean one thing, after all.

"Silly child. I already know where he is." The woman returned in a condescending tone. Nabiki hid the twitch threatening to overtake her cheek admirably. "Surely my yen would buy a more valuable service…?"

"Ah…" The good news was the strange woman was still willing to deal. Nabiki appreciated that. The bad news was her mystery guest also knew how to bargain and that she'd be working harder for her commission. Nabiki's brain fought to regain the initiative. "I can… Ensure that you won't be interrupted during your visit."

"Hmmm, perhaps." The white haired woman made a show of thinking on the matter. "Alright, then. A reasonable fee for a reasonable service. Mara, please—"

"Not exactly," The Tendo countered as the bait was taken. "Interruptions concerning Saotome come in many forms, not the least of which include other fiancées. Fifteen thousand would be more appropriate at this juncture."

"Such a steep increase," The woman emoted slight, and by Nabiki's estimation, phony concern. "One would almost think such a service was invaluable."

"Heh," Nabiki chuckled, genuine amusement showing on her face for the first time. "Then you would be well informed to realize that many of Ranma's fiancées are regularly heavily armed. They tend to require a subtle hand when his… virtue is in question."

"And I am to assume you are just such a hand." The woman produced a negligible shrug, then turned her full and undivided attention on to the middle sister. "And how about you, Miss Tendo. Are you concerned with his virtue?"

"For the right the right price, I could be convinced not to be."

"Twenty then," The woman smiled, turning to her blonde partner. The leather clad woman proffered a small pocket book, allowing the business woman to pull out several tan sheets.

"Thirty thousand," Nabiki countered. There was blood in the water now and damned if she wouldn't take as big a bite out of her mark as she could. She produced her own manufactured look of concern. "After all, my very sister is engaged to him too. She could very well be devastated."

"I'm sure she would get over it in time," The purple eyed woman commented indifferently. "Twenty two."

"Possibly," the sister commented with false introspection. "But I'd positively hate myself if I were wrong."

"Twenty five, then." She pulled out another two sheets, then added, "To sooth your conscious."

"I'd also sleep better at night if I could buy her a few tokens to get her over her loss," Nabiki shook her head with remorse she wasn't feeling.

The woman pulled a final sheet, leveling those purple eyes on the dark haired brunette. "Twenty seven. Otherwise I shall simply take my chances within."

"Done."

"Of course, I am the Daimakaichō and should you renege on your bargain, your soul is forfeit," The woman commented with an easy smile, holding out her hand to be shaken. "Agreed?"

"Yeah, sure," Nabiki dismissed the theatrics, gave her hand a good shake and snatched the money up. The white haired woman simply smiled as Nabiki stepped aside. "Saotome's in the dojo doing katas."

"Of course she is," Hild nodded brushing past the girl, Mara in tow. The mercenary was too busy counting her new found wealth to notice the gender her benefactor had employed as the pair continued across the courtyard, angling toward the dojo itself. The pair slid into the structure silently, finding what could only be described as a martial arts blur in action. To any other audience, the blurring kata would have been breathtaking… Even awe-inspiring. His audience at the moment however was far from ordinary and simply waited patiently for the exercise to wind down.

A soft clapping brought his kata to a halt and the martial artist turned to find the Hild and her assistant watching from the edge of the mat.

"Bravo." The white haired woman smiled generously. "While I won't claim to be a martial arts aficionado, I must say it was a superb virtuoso nonetheless."

"Eh, thanks." Ranma smirked in spite of the fact that he had been taken completely by surprise. He hadn't even detected the pair's entry, exposing yet another facet of the Magical Girl Lawyer's skill. That aside, finding her at the dojo was a surprise in itself, nor was it an unpleasant one. "Whatcha doing here anyway? Takin' a break from work?"

"Of sorts." She nodded, stepping toward the center of the room. The shrine at the structures north wall caught her attention for a brief moment before turning back to Ranma, her expression softening. "Actually, I just wanted to drop by and personally thank you for the letter."

The pig tailed boy blinked. Leaning behind them on the wall Mara blinked, unsure of what she had just heard. As far as she knew, they were just dropping in to satisfy her mistress' craving for mischief. The blonde checked the thought. Hells, she might still be doing just that.

"Ah, it was nothin'" Ranma brushed it off, but avoided eye contact with the woman. "Just thought well… Never mind. Ain't my place."

"No, I think it is." Hild brushed a lock of her white mane aside and sighed, looking away. She didn't have to do this. In fact, it would be so very easy to ignore the sudden wellspring of conscious the boy's letter had produced. Easy, but… "Because frankly your concern is misplaced. Undeserved, even."

"Don't see what—"

"I haven't been completely honest with you, Ranma-kun." She continued, cutting him off with renewed determination. "In fact, I've been using you. Selfishly using you for my own enjoyment. Using you to fill a hole in my own existence." Ranma remained silent, simply watching the woman now as she unloaded her conscious. "That is why I don't deserve your sympathies. I would have used you, laughed and thrown you away like that girl out there."

"Girl?" Ranma finally latched on to something that retained more definition than Hild's own nebulous feelings of guilt. "What girl?"

"Nabiki Tendo," Hild remarked with a dead smile. "She just sold your virginity for a paltry twenty seven thousand yen."

The words were heard by the martial artist but failed to register for a few seconds as they attempted their meaning. Finally, something resembling a coherent though found his lips. "That's… She…" Ranma shook his head, finally reconciling her statement into a single derisive laugh. "Figures."

"Indeed." She quipped, then turned completely serious. "I, on the other hand, would have done worse. I was looking to turn you into a sexual plaything, fully willing to destroy your life in order to achieve some measure of self gratification. Make no mistake, Ranma-kun I am as evil a person as you'll ever meet."

The pig tailed boy eyes the woman before him now critically, noting that while the package was harmless enough looking, a palpable weight hung about her person. If he didn't know any better, it was something akin to Ryoga's depressive aura, except magnitudes darker than the lost boy could ever hope to achieve. And yet…

"Feh, whatever." Ranma shrugged the announcement off as if it were inconsequential. "I'd be a little pissy too if Urd ragged on me as much as she does you."

"You… I…!" It was a rare thing to see the Grand Demoness at a loss for words, let alone flustered, yet Mara watched as exactly that played out in front of her. The very space around Hild began to darken. "I am the Daimakaichō of Hell itself, Ranma! I torment the souls of the wicked for eternities on end! I play cruel and petty games with those of weak will, guiding them toward self damnation!"

If the proclamation fazed Ranma, he failed to show it in any way, shape or form. Instead, a smirk escaped his lips. "Well, shit. And I though being cursed to become a chick was bad."

Purple eyes stared incredulously back at him. "I… would have… destroyed you…"

"Are ya gonna now?"

Hild blinked. Somehow the very thought had become very alien in her mind and a single word came out as barely a whisper. "No."

Ranma leaned back against the wall opposite of Mara. He nodded, almost to himself and the smirk disappeared in favor of more morose visage. "I… really got nobody myself. Sure, there's my old man, but there ain't much to him besides the art. My Mom… Well, I don't even exist to her."

"And the fiancées?" Hild asked rhetorically, sensing that it was her turn to lighten the mood. "Surely all those lovely women beating a path to your door would beat… other things?"

"Eh, right," Ranma flushed pink, receiving the innuendo quite clearly, but shook it off to pursue the matter at hand. "Besides, it wasn't as if I wasn't using you too." Hild cocked her head curiously, momentarily side tracked from her own dejection. "I was using your office as a place to hide… Saved me from those mirror clones, helped with the mushrooms, and even leaned on your advice about Kumon. I guess what I'm sayin' is even if you were screwin' around with me… It's been the most fun I've had in damn near forever."

"I…" The white haired demoness trailed off into silence for a moment before continuing. "As did I. However, you must realize the full import of your association with me."

"What's to know?"

"I shall show you." She replied, committing herself to this final course. "Once you see for yourself… You may very well decide against it."

Ranma cocked his head, silently taking the woman's measure for a good minute and a half before shrugging. "Sure, why not. Wait here a sec though."

Hild watched curiously as Ranma cross the dojo mat, passed her with a unreadable look and left the structure entirely. The Ruler of Hell looked from the now vacant dojo doorway to her subordinate, who shrugged in kind. Ranma returned a minute later. Hild blinked, watching the now red headed girl walk in with an impish smile.

"Okay, ready."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at the girl but widened her smile, turning back to Mara. "Hold down the fort. Be back in a jiffy."

"But Boss--!"

Poof!

Hild snapped her fingers, engulfing both Daimakaichō and redhead in a fiery plume.

Within the safety of her room, Nabiki Tendo considered the neatly array cash on the desk before her. While she wasn't a stranger to profit, it rarely came up and bit her on the ass in such quantity. God I love Ranma and his fiancées, she chortled mentally, counting over the sheets again. Not simply Ranma, she amended. None of this would be possible without that moron he calls a father.

Even so, there was a slight problem. Whoever the tanned woman was, Nabiki had no doubt that she would be following up on her intention to deflower the martial artist and that alone would create problems if she was by some small chance successful. The status quo would be upset and so would her potential to make profit off her sister's part time fiancée. While she wasn't overly fond of the jock, even she couldn't ignore the worst case scenario. If anybody had a chance to pull it off, it was this new one. Not only did she have the body of supermodel, she was confident and more importantly—A woman. It was an important distinction in the Ice Queen's opinion, especially when the competition wasn't.

Nabiki stared at the yen on her desk, contemplating her options. On one hand she had the short term gain of the new fiancée's cash and with it, her word that she would keep the competition off her back. On the other hand was the potential loss of Ranma's long term profit potential. The mercenary drummed her fingers along the flat of the desk, playing through the options. If she called the fiancées outright, her new found yen was just as gone as if she let the woman have her way with Saotome. But… But if I play the fence… She speculated, forming the angle mentally. Let the fiancées in on it, make a showy protest of their presence… Oh sure, I probably won't be able to keep all the money she gave me, but I'd at least have a case to keep at least half -- if not more -- plus the fee from the girls… A devious smile slowly formed along her lips. And if I do it right, keeping the new woman in play will create even more opportunities to generate cash in the future…

It was simply too good an opportunity to pass up and Nabiki organized the stack of yen, pulling a touch tone phone into easy dialing reach. At that very moment, an anonymous database churned within the bowls of the Yggdrasil, locating the file of Nabiki Tendo, daughter of Soun and Natsumi Tendo, removing its read only flag. It was then instantaneously transferred from the protected core of the system and into the contested souls directory to await its fate.

The entire process was completed before the Ice Queen lifted her finger off the first digit of the telephone.

Urd, Goddess of the Past presently grounded Earth side paused just outside the the dojo property wall, cocking her head with a slight frown. The kid hadn't been more than thirty meters from her present location when every trace of him simply vanished. The Goddess re-tuned her sense to take into account the kids inverted life force trick and turned up the exact same result… Nothing.

"Sonofabitch…" Urd growled and altered her course. Instead of her planned entry via the Tendo property gate, she changed course and phased directly through the wall, crossing the grassy courtyard therein with renewed purpose. Again she ignored the standard method of entry and passed straight through the dojo wall with a large chunk of irritation in tow. "Look, Saotome--!"

"Oh, it's you."

"Mara?!" Urd blinked, clearing the wall and stopping short, mouth gaping. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

The leather wrapped blonde was sitting cross legged in the middle of the dojo, looking blandly up at her from the Gameboy she had been playing. "Me? What are you doing here?"

"My job," Urd huffed, walking over to the minion of Hell. "And where's Saotome, for that matter?"

"Off with the boss," Mara shrugged, returning her attention to the game. "Why the interest?"

"I've been assigned to make sure my Mother doesn't screw the naive kid over," She shook her head, looking around the small space of the dojo for evidence of their stay.

"Ah," Mara smiled a toothy, devious smile and placed the Gameboy down on the mat beside her. The fact that it shown her fangs made it all the more disconcerting. "Then I guess now wouldn't be a good time to tell you she took him to Hell." Her forehead scrunched. "Her to Hell."

"WHAT?!" The Norn was in her face now, nearly panicking outright. "She got him to actually sign?!"

"It's not—"

"Shit, shit, shit!" Urd paced the dojo now in clear agitation. "Kami-sama's going to have my ass for this!"

"She didn't—"

"I'll be lucky if they don't bust me to ground duty for the next five hundred years," The white haired Goddess chewed on the end of her blue robe. She turned back to Mara with wide eyes. "Do you know what this will look like on my permanent—"

"She didn't sign a damn contract!" The blond blurted, forcefully inserting herself into her fretting monologue. Urd froze, staring; prompting Mara to roll her eyes. "Jeez, what a ditz."

"No… contract?" Urd picked through the words, attempting to get a handle on their exact meaning. Mara simply nodded like a teacher to a child. "But took him to Hell."

Another nod.

Urd rubbed her temples in a futile effort to ward off the impending headache. "What in the world is she doing with the brat then?"

"You're asking me?" The demoness snorted sarcastically. While she could speculate, she wasn't about to do so in front of goodie-two-shoes here, childhood friend or no. "Last thing she told me was 'hold down the fort', so I'm stuck 'till they get back."

"Then so am I." The tanned goddess decided. "I've been beating around the bush with that kid. Time to give it to him straight."

"Straight?" Mara arched an eyebrow but recovered her Gameboy.

"Saotome's soul is in immortal danger." She stated with no uncertainty. "I can't let mother get her hooks into him any deeper than she already has, even if it means telling him outright what she is and who we are."

"Mmmhmm, sure." Mara mumbled, now engrossed in the portable device.

"You're not even listening."

"I'm not even caring," Her eyes flicked up from the Gameboy, then back. "But you're free to wait till they get back. Could use the company…" Mara paused, casting a dry look at her counterpart. "Even if it's yours."

"Funny." Urd sniffed contemptuously, staring down at the woman for another moment before sitting next to her. "Got another one of those?"

"Welcome to Hell, Ranma."

A brief plume of smoke obscured Ranma's vision, but once it did, Ranma Saotome, Heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts was witness to Hell in all its glory… A solid oak desk. Two fully loaded book cases. A sofa along the opposite wall and even an intricately carved ivory tusk centerpiece. The redhead smiled as she noted a letter written in her own handwriting set carefully to the side of the desk, then adopted a bland look. "Hell looks a lot like your office."

"It is the same office, simply in two places at once," Hild chuckled, walking around the desk and to the curtain drawn over the window behind her luxurious leather chair. "But there are, as I'm sure you'll notice, a few minor differences."

She pulled the curtain aside revealing what Ranma had assumed was going to be the standard view of down town Tokyo. She was wrong. Oh so very wrong. The Daimakaichō stepped aside, revealing an expansive cavern beyond the plate glass, stretching well beyond even her formidable eye sight. Buildings lined the cavern like any other major metropolis, merging both earth and ceiling into a vast array of interconnected columns that seemed to support the immense subterranean complex.

"I… it's…" Ranma walked around the desk, pressing her nose to the glass as she took it all in. She turned back to Hild with a questioning look. "I mean, where's the fire and brimstone?"

"In a separate section," The Grand Demoness commented, stepping up next to Ranma and admiring the view herself. "This is merely the administrative sector. Would you like a look around?"

"Uh, sure." Ranma nodded automatically. "That's why we're here, right?"

"Exactly." Hild confirmed, leading the way to the office double doors, pushing them open easily. The white haired woman strode out into the receptionists office with Ranma in tow. She motioned to the receptionist, walking by. "Of course, you've met Amanda,"

The martial artist barely nodded this time, noting that instead of the pale, black haired receptionist he had come to know, a pink skinned, black haired woman of vaguely the similar facial structure was sitting in her place. The smallish horns, wings and tail weren't lost on Ranma either. Amanda smiled politely as they passed as did Ranma, who immediately stepped up her pace to stay alongside Hild.

"Um, about Amanda…"

"An illusionary form," Hild commented as they walked out into the hallway. "Wouldn't do to have people topside running around screaming demon and such nonsense."

"Kinda like ol' Taro running around Tokyo, I guess." Ranma snorted with amusement after rolling the revelation around within his thoughts. "Idiot collects devil hunters and magical girls like baseball cards."

"Ah, the Níuhèmànmáorénnìquán boy you were telling me about?" The pair stepped into an elevator that took them to the ground floor of the building. Hild chuckled lightly as they exited the lift and crossed the lobby. "But yes, the effect would likely be similar. I'd imagine the panic he causes is quite amusing."

"As is watching his ass get shot off by some random magical attacks," the redhead smirked while tracking her surroundings. Not everybody was a weird demon, she noted as they moved through the lobby, people greeting them deferentially as they passed. Oh, sure, some of them were damn weird looking, but Ranma was, well, Ranma. Weird shit like this was par for the course.

The bellhop, an aging man in his late sixties held the door open for the pair and they exited. The martial artist absently noted the fact that his long horns stretching back across his forehead and coal black skin seemed a bit at odds with the dapper suit he wore but she smiled anyway, following Hild out to a horse drawn carriage. Said horse was quite literally on fire, specifically it's long mane and hooves. Ranma stared. Even its eyes danced with fire light.

"Daimakaichō," The carriage director tilted his top hat respectfully. Unlike other, this person's features were nothing but rolling shadow. "Where shall I have the honor of conveying you and your guest today?"

The same attendant from the doorway now opened the carriage door, allowing both to step up into the open aired vehicle. He shut the door once they were securely mounted on the pillow cushioned passenger's seat, allowing Hild to reply to her their conductor. "Scenic route to the gates, Naxlyx."

"As you will." The driver heaved the reigns in hand a sharp jerk and the fiery horse lumbered forward, pulling the carriage away from the office building curb at a lethargic pace.

"I must say, you're taking all of this quite well." Hild smiled pleasantly, leaning back into her well cushioned seat. "Though given your regular existence, I really shouldn't be surprised."

"Probably, but even I gotta admit you're maxin' my weird shit quota for the month." Ranma chuckled as she took in the city around them. Overall, the place wasn't that unusual. The people were different and the city was underground, lit by impossibly bright torches mounted on towering spires, but when it was all said and done it was simply another city.

"Which reminds me…" The Daimakaichō's purple eyes scrutinized Ranma curiously, her head tilting slightly. "Why, exactly did you change into your female form for this trip? I wouldn't expect that after… Well…"

"We always go out like this," Ranma returned nonchalantly. A little too much nonchalant in Hild's estimation. "Can't go breakin' tradition now, right?" Hild continued to stare and the martial artist began to squirm. The redhead held out for another thirty second before caving entirely. "And maybe cuz you kinda… I mean, not sayin' you need anything like that... anything like, um…"

A gentle smile brought the girl's rambling to a halt and bejeweled, tanned hand patted her head gently. "I believe I understand… And thank you for that."

Ranma gave the response a quick shrug before turning away in much too obvious a manner to take in the sights passing by. Hild herself continued to smile fondly on the girl, but it diminished slightly, realizing that the worst was still yet to come. The administration sector of Nifelheim was nothing compared to their destination and there was a very real possibility that every last trace of the girl's good will would evaporate with it.

"Whoa, what the hell is that?!" The exclamation drew the grand Demoness' attention away from her own concerns. She found the martial artists nearly hanging off the side of the buggy, staring at a twisted three pronged spire nestled between the skyscrapers. A kaleidoscope of roiling green energy drifted skyward at the black spire's center, dissipating before reaching the cavern's upper altitudes.

"That," Hild emphasized, sidling along side Ranma. "Is the Nidhogg up link, Hell's super computer."

"No shit?" Ranma continued to stare as incredulity seeped into her voice. She turned back to Hild, who was now leaning alongside her. "Hell has a super computer?"

"We also have a a great Italian Ristorante a few kilometers east of here," She commented offhand. "They make an exquisite ravioli pasta."

Her humor was lost on the martial artist, whose eyes were already riveted on Nifelheim's next major landmark: A pair of towering black iron gates carved into the cavern walls. While it was obvious they were still a ways away from the structure itself, the fact that it had hazy clouds floating around it gave Ranma some idea of just how high they really were.

"The Gates of Mordor, our destination."

"Whoa." The redhead effused, barely managing to pull her eyes away from the massive iron wrought artifact. "And you're tellin' me you run this entire place?"

"Every square meter." Hild nodded, idly noting the girl's reaction. Ranma nodded appreciably and went back to her sight seeing, pleasing the Mistress of Hell further. It was one of the things she did like about the child; The ability to be amazed without being reduced to a puddle of awe, let alone indulge in hero worship.

"So what's behind the gate, anyway?" Ranma asked as her eyes were invariable drawn back to the cavern's dominant landmark.

"The Hell everybody reads about," The Grand Demoness debated briefly on how to field the question and quickly decided that the direct approach most fitted the redhead beside her. She was, after all, a quite direct person herself. "Quite literally the damned, replete with torture, fire and brimstone."

"So basically where Happosai is gonna end up is what yer saying."

"Quite." A chuckle escaped Hild's lips, declining to mention that particular soul had already been hers for a long time now.

"Level fourteen."

Eight bit music echoed within the confines of the dojo as two childhood friends rotated and coaxed digital blocks of various geometric shapes into patterns, hoping to form a complete line before the next one dropped. Urd, Goddess of the Past Category Two scowled at her counterpart's announcement and missed a crucial drop point, leaving a massive gap in her pattern and forcing a desperate workaround. Regardless of the state of her particular game, she wasn't about to let mother's lapdog one-up her.

"Oh yeah?" She pasted on a condescending smile, staring back at Mara. "Sixteen."

...Two levels better than her actual game at the moment.

"Im-Impossible!" The blonde's cheek twitched, all but burning the Goddess down with a dagger laden glare. She held it for a moment, then redoubled her efforts, mashing the Gameboy's buttons furiously in a feverish attempt to catch up to her arch-rival's pace. Her efforts caused her to wobble to and fro, inadvertently bumping the goddess next to her with an elbow. Urd growled and returned the elbow in kind, quickly turning their eight bit grudge match physical while a small, angry spark danced between the women. Blocks dropped at a blurring pace on the monochromatic screen now as the infernal and divine devoted their full potential on the hand held units, occasionally sending menacing glares back at one another. Soon, the Gameboys began to smoke.

"Seventy three!"
"Oh yeah?! Seventy Four!"
"FIVE!"
"SIX!!!"
"Seventy Seven!"
"Is that it?! EIGHTY!"
"Grrrrrr....!"

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Both women blinked as the voice intruded on their respective games, causing a fatal lapse that ended with the words "GAME OVER" appearing on their screens, accompanied by a sad tune.

"Well shit," Mara frowned staring at the small screen with disgust.

"I don't think you want to be standing in our way, Sugar."
"Spatula girl right. Too too inconvenient if have to go through you."
"I must concur with the peasants on this regard, Tendo. Stand aside."

"Who the heck?" Urd mumbled with irritation, giving her device one last look before turning her attention to the closed door and commotion beyond. "Some kind of fight?"

"Just the Tendo chick," The blonde demoness sniffed with humor. "Thinks she's going to pull one over on the Boss."

"You're kidding." The goddess stood up, looking down at Mara's impassive expression. It grew into a smile. "You're not."

"Look I promised--"
"It would be most unfortunate if we were to have to force our way through you, Tendo."
"Damn right."
"Is true."

"Dammit, Mother..." Urd fumed, shaking her head. "Looks like I'm going to have to bail that girl out before she--"

"Too late."

Urd froze halfway to the sliding dojo door. She turned around almost mechanically to face her counterpart, now standing with an malicious grin on her face. "What... did you say?"

"Signed, sealed, and depending on your mother's pleasure," Mara ticked off the steps on three fingers, "...delivered."

The Goddess of the Past stared, her head snapping back to the unseen commotion beyond and back. "But... she can't do that! She can't initiate a contract like that! Not directly!"

"Are you kidding?" Mara chuckled, walking up to her friend with all the arrogance in the world. "The girl propositioned Hild. They bargained, Boss gave her the credentials and the rest, as they say, is history. Every single bit of it was by the book."

Urd gaped at the demoness for a good ten seconds before regaining her wits. "She broke the contract?"

It wasn't even really a question and Mara nodded, still smirking. "Didn't even last a ten minutes."

Something small died inside Urd as she considered the her childhood friend's words. On one hand she knew her mother. She could sell a space heaters to people dying of thirst in the desert, but she was also bound by very specific rules. Not only couldn't she initiate a contract herself, she was required to work her influence through agents. Likewise, she had to announce who she was and her intentions clearly... Unless somebody comes to her first, Urd frowned. Sure, it was easy to saddle her mother with the blame, but along with it went mortal responsibility. For the contractee to cave within ten minutes... What had mother offered the girl?

"Twenty seven thousand." Mara quoted the figure, divining the Goddess' own thoughts precisely.

Urd nearly fell over. Twenty seven... That wasn't just her mother's corrupting influence, much as she hated to admit the fact; certainly not aloud. While she wasn't a psychologist per se, several millennia of working around humans had given her a pretty deep understanding of their behavior, and she knew without a doubt that sort of mentality pointed to some self destructive, intrinsically fatal flaw in the girl's character. She knew, but that didn't make her feel any better about it.

"First the gender jock and now the girl out there," She shook her head bitterly. "Kami, what the heck is wrong with the people in this ward?"

THUD.

The sliding door crashed open as if to answer her question directly, admitting one purple haired Chinese girl in silks, another Japanese girl in an obi and tights and a final clad merely in a black leotard. The white haired Goddess noted that all three were armed and their expressions told her they were here on business. Behind them, another girl with a bobbed haircut slid in with an apologetic look.

"I tried to stop them, but--" The girl stopped, tilting her head and staring at the goddess neutrally. "You're not the same one."

"Hey, where's Ran-chan!"
"New fiancee not welcome!"
"The white-haired harlot will suffer for her trespass!"

Urd's cheek twitched, turning to Mara. "Don't suppose you want to fill me in...?"

"And who are you?!" The Chinese girl glared at Mara, who was already sidling off to the side.

The demoness waived her off innocently. "Oh, me? You don't need to know who I am."

"I don't care who she is," The spatula wielding girl growled. "Where's my Ran-chan?!"

"I'm not the woman you're looking for," Mara protested with a weak smile and nonchalant wave of her hand.

"The peasant is not who we seek," The leotard wrapped teen, frowned, pulling a purple ribbon taught and refocusing on the blonde's partner. "She is."

"I'll just go about my business. Over here." The demoness pointed, wandering off to the side and out of the line of fire.

"I suggest you do that, Sugar," The other teen hefted her battle spatula, eyes solely focused on the remaining goddess.

"Traitor," Urd snarled out of the corner of her mouth. Mara simply shrugged, leaning against the far dojo wall as the girls arrayed themselves against Urd. She sighed wearily, turning back to the girls. "Look, I don't know what your beef is, but--"

"Dispense with your witless prattle, Harlot," Kodachi interrupted, snapping her ribbon for emphasis. "We have heard of your designs on my Stallion."

"My Ran-chan," Ukyo correct, twirling her spatula idly. Implicit with the action was the promise of physical violence. "And we're not going to let a hussy like you steal him away in secret."

"Wait," Urd interjected, nearly unable to believe her ears and putting a finger to her own ample, tan chest. "You think me... and the kid...?"

"Don't play stupid with Amazon warrior," Shampoo pointed one of her two maces at the woman accusingly. "Shampoo no let hentai woman lust after Airen!"

Off to the side, Nabiki Tendo watched the tragedy play out before her. The woman was similar- damn similar -to the description she had given Junko, who had in turn passed it on to the fiancees for a nominal fee. It was not her however, and Nabiki struggled with how play this newest development. Her first inclination was to let it ride; let the girls have their fun and play whatever angle presented itself on the back side, but she was lacking one vital piece of information... Such as who the hell is that new girl, anyway? Her gaze swept from the bickering faction and over to the blonde watching the scene from the adjacent wall. The assistant, she mentally labeled the only remaining constant besides herself in the game. Nabiki checked her decision and walked over to the woman, ready to interrogate her...

...subtly of course.

"I tried to stop them," Nabiki began apologetically, motioning to the escalating fiancees. "But like I warned your boss--"

"Save it for somebody who gives a rats ass," Mara replied tersely, barely bothering to acknowledge the Tendo's presence.

The rude interruption left Nabiki blinking and she waited for further explanation to be forthcoming. Nothing came, so she ventured forth herself. "So then... Who's that?"

Mara turned away from the commotion, acknowledging Nabiki for the first time. Instead of the answers she sought, a slow, malevolent smile spread across the blonde's face. That pretty much said it all for Nabiki, who suppressed her own frown. She knows. Playing her own angle? The mercenary puzzled over the new development. Either way, she knew she was now dealing with a critical lack of information, which would mean that it was probably best to abort the current operation until...

"You shall be punished for those words, loathsome tart!"

...Too late. Nabiki watched at the Kodachi lunged, two gymnastics pins separating from her person with the movement. The airborn clubs spun and suddenly sprouted spikes, but were easily batted away by the tanned woman. The middle sister raised an eyebrow as she executed the blurring movements, also rendering a whipping from the girl's ribbon impotent. Nabiki wouldn't have pegged the woman to be a martial artist, but in some sense, it figured. Who else would Genma scam into a marriage? She thought rhetorically. It would also figure the woman was a martial artist, and a twin to boot. Either way, it hardly mattered. Much as she didn't like the prospect of being in the dark, she had a firm stance on involving herself in fiancee violence; That is to say 'no' for exactly this very reason.

Kodachi's ribbon disappeared with the next attempt, rendered to dust the moment it touched Urd's person. Ukyo took that as her cue to take up the slack. A flight of three mini spatulas spun in from opposite vectors, all neatly dispatched by the yawning white haired woman. They clattered to the wooden floor- one at Nabiki's own feet -and the Okonomiyaki master charged forward to press her opponent's distracted state, only to find her not so distracted. The edge of the battle spatula blurred down on Urd and she simply raised her right hand, grabbing the flat and stopping its momentum cold. Ukyo's eyes widened and she attempted to withdraw, only to find the weapon all but cemented in the woman's grasp.

Urd adopted a thoroughly bored look. "Come on, let's all stop this before somebody gets themselves--"

"Hiyah!" A shadow enveloped the goddess and she looked up to find the poofy haired Amazon, leaping over the girl before her in an elaborate flip that threatened to bring both of the rainbow colored maces down on her head. Urd rolled her eyes and stepped out of the way, releasing the spatula while evading the initial pummeling; bonbori carving the air her face had previously occupied. Shampoo landed in a crouch, thrusting a spinning mace into the tanned woman's torso. Urd simply stepped aside and grabbed the shaft itself, stopping the weapon's spin as easily as she had the other girl's.

The weapon stopped and it's torque transferred back into it's wielder who hadn't expected the sudden and complete reversal of her offensive. The force nearly pulled Shampoo's shoulder from its socket and she suddenly found herself cartwheeling across the room, stopped only by the thick beams of the dojo wall.

"--gets hurt," Urd winced with the impact and shook her head. "I'm not sure what you think is going on here but it doesn't involve me and it really needs to stop."

"It'll stop when you haul ass out of Nerima, Sugar." Ukyo retorted bringing her battle spatula back up with one hand and sliding three more shuriken into the other. Shampoo shook the impact off and slowly stood upright, slowly testing her own balance. The Amazon was now down to one rainbow mace and she glared icy death into the Goddess while Kodachi stepped up alongside her with her own malevolent gaze, twirling a razor edged hula hoop she has somehow acquired.

Urd, Goddess of the Past category two tossed her newly acquired bonbori aside, shaking her head with simmering irritation.

She was really beginning to hate this prefecture.

The gates only got more impressive the closer they got, and Ranma was beginning to develop a crick in her neck just looking up at them. They were imposing, two and a half kilometer high black plates of steel with rivets the size of small apartments and jagged bus sized spikes seemingly interspersed at random along its length. Closing on the gate had also meant leaving the city, and little more than rock and dust remained along their current path of travel, though the growing number of tents and haggard refugee-like populace that had been increasing in numbers were beginning to perk the redhead's curiosity.

"What's with these guys?" Ranma jabbed a thumb out at the destitute populace as their carriage continued on by. It was also impossible not to notice the distinct lack of eye contact they were receiving as they drove by. "Looks like they got the shit kicked out of them."

"Gate keepers," Hild nodded, barely paying attention to the meandering crowd of mixed demons and humans. "Those things don't open themselves, you know."

"Ouch," Ranma winced slightly, looking from the populace around them and back up at the solid steel gates. However much they weighed, the martial artist was pretty certain she couldn't count that high, and turned back to Hild. "So what did they screw up to deserve that?"

"They missed the cut," Hild explained patiently, pleased that her charge already clearly understood the concept of failure and consequence. "Not good enough to pass into heaven, nor truly evil; certainly not enough to deserve what's on the other side of the gate."

"So they just hang out here forever?"

"Or until they've cleansed their karma enough to get reborn," The Daimakaichō nodded. "This job is for those just... passing through, so to speak."

"Nothin' yankin on a huge ass gate won't cure, I suppose," Ranma mused, rolling the implications of karma and damnation around in her brain.

Hild nearly choked with the comment, chuckling at the girl. "Quite, Ranma-chan. Quite. In any case, we have arrived."

The carriage pulled up to the gates and Ranma's eyes immediately locked on to the guards. There were only two, but it was plainly obvious that both were more than capable of dealing with the crowd milling around the gate. They were the quintessential demons according to Ranma's world view, sporting slate gray skin stretched over a wall of muscle... All four meters of them and their thick crimson plate armor. Each was armed with a massive runed double headed battle axe while they scanned their posts for threats with beady eyes and a single spike horn jutting from skull.

Ranma instinctively sized up the threat they represented and dismissed them as quickly as she had considered them. While there really wasn't any question as to whether she could deal with them or not, she had honestly been expecting something more... formidable guarding the gates of Hell. But, then, who's gonna be breaking in to Hell, anyway, she decided, watching as their driver brought the transport to a halt and abandon his seat at the reigns. He circled around to Hild's side of the buggy and opened the door with a respectful bow. The Grand Demoness acknowledged the effort with slight smile to indicate her approval and stepped out, her attention on the closest guard. The pair of demons snapped to ridged attention.

"Gates, please."

"Yes, Mistress!" The second guard nodded stiffly, grounding the battle axe and retrieving a short, funnel-like horn wrapped in gold and jewels. It put the funnel to its lips and with a deep breath. It's already formidable muscle mass swelled and it expelled that atmospheric volume into the horn, translating the exhalation into a low, mournful sound that vibrated straight through Ranma's body and rolled around across the cavern plains like a tidal wave. The effect was instantaneous as the shanty town suddenly exploded with life, refugees running to and fro like so many ants erupting from a hill. Ranma watched as massive chains were dragged from underground storage and latched into tunnel sized eyelets and fastened into place with equally large bolts by platoons of workers; each side fastening ten such black iron chains to the gate.

And then the yanking began.

Hundreds of the of people swarmed over the chains themselves and drum beats began to sound signaling the beginning of their labor. The gates groaned mournfully, the earth vibrating and the thick slabs of metal began to open lethargically. Ranma shook her head with the labor. She was no stranger to manual labor, but this was literally back breaking. And the gates haven't even opened yet! She watched as their efforts only yielded more of its depth while Hild herself simply watched with a bemused expression. Ranma dismounted the buggy and stepped up the Daimakaichō, thoroughly impressed by the effort being put forth before them.

"Damn, sucks to be them," Ranma commented with marginal sympathy, watching as the first glimpse of the world beyond began to appear. It was a mere sliver in the open gates, but the light filtering through it was an angry, smoldering orange. Sulfurous smoke began to billow through the breach, scalding those at the head of the chains as they made slow progress toward opening the monstrous slabs of iron. The redhead arched an eyebrow. "So... we're just going to walk in there?"

"One does not simply walk into Mordor, Ranma-chan," The martial artist looked at her with a questioning look. Suddenly, a gust of wind nearly blew her off her feat and Ranma braced with the dust storm that enveloped her. When it cleared, She nearly fell flat on her butt, staring up at what could only be described as a gigantic black dragon; daggered spikes and plate armored scales covering it from head to toe.

"What... what the hell!?"

"One actually flies there," She confirmed, walking up to the dragons huge, coal black snout. "In style, of course."

"Hild-sama..." The massive beast's whispering rumble vibrating through Ranma's bones. "How may I serve?"

The tanned demoness walked around the dragon's massive triangular head, caressing its beak affectionately. "We require transport, old friend."

"We..." Glowing embers within the creature's facing eye socket tightened, focusing on the girl still standing warily way. "The Saotome child... Interesting."

It took a moment for the words to process through Ranma's brain and when they did he nearly couldn't believe the implications herself. "You... know me?"

"Yesss..." The full massive of the dragon's horned cranium turned on her, allowing the dragon to focus on her with both eyes now. "Your name... comes up... in certain... circles... little one..."

Hild watched the conversation with a humor glint in her eyes as Ranma chewed the fact that a dragon new her name. The surprise on her face quickly faced into suspicion. "Don't suppose I'm gonna have to kick these circles asses at a later date, am I?"

The black dragon cocked it's head, eyeing the diminutive human before it as if it were a morsel to be eaten. When Ranma failed to be moved, it rose up upon its haunches and flexed it's wings, baring down on the martial artist as if to pounce. She stared back with thinly veiled boredom, hands in her pocket. Inside, her heart was racing. Every time she came across a dragon anything, it meant an all out war. After the girl failed to run around in panic, it snorted hot sulfuric breath down on her and turned the long twine of its neck on Hild. This time his whispering rumble had the slightest hint of humor therein. "She does not... disappoint. She... may ride me..."

"High praise, but come now," Hild nodded, beckoning the girl over as the dragon itself dipped it's neck low. The Queen of hell straddled the beast easily between a major armored plate, motioning Ranma to join her. The redhead retained her wariness for moment before shrugging and stepping up to the neck herself, scaling herself into position. "Ready?" Ranma gave Hild a stiff nod, not exactly trusting her own voice at the moment. After all, not only had the dragon not tried to kill her in any way, shape or form yet, but she was also to ride it. "Then take us up, Neltharion-kun!"

No sooner had she uttered the words than Ranma was subjected to four gravities of upward acceleration as the massive black dragon pushed of into the sky, aided by the first downward stroke of its equally large wings. Another stoke and she estimated they had already cleared a good two hundred meters in altitude while the workers below continued to pull the gates open. The opening still wasn't wide enough to fit anything as large as the creature she was riding through, so it continued to circle, gaining altitude. With the gate lacking much in the way of decisive movement, Ranma turned over her other shoulder to find the metropolis of Nifelheim in the distance. It was obvious the cavern had it's own odd weather system with the view and her eyes picked the spackles of clouds winding around each of the dozens of pillars that touched both cavern ceiling an floor while the Nidhogg up link glowed within the city core.

Her impressed whistle was lost to the wind, but Hild saw the pucker of lips from behind her easily enough and smiled, all but resigning herself to the fate that certainly lie beyond the gates that had almost opened wide enough admit their transport. Nice while it lasts, she admitted glumly, but kept her pleasant countenance for the girl before her. The chances of whatever relationship they had build up surviving beyond those gates was barely worth commenting on, but the company of something other than a yes-man and play toy was... welcome.

"We go."

Those two rumbling words were Ranma's only warning as the dragon suddenly dipped into a tight left bank and she dug her formidable grip into the armored plate she was sitting on. Neltharion oriented on the Gates of Mordor below and pulled it's wings in, dumping altitude like guided missile. The giant black dragon punched through the meager cloud cover, trailing vapor off the folds of its wings while Ranma held on for dear life, Hild riding serenely behind with her long white hair trailing back into the the slipstream.

"RAAAARRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Neltharion bellowed as it blasted through the meager opening of the gates provided, transversing from the relatively clear atmosphere into the smoldering glow of hell itself before breaking it's minimal drag profile to break the dive and regain altitude. The wings themselves came unfurled and the dragon was carried aloft on thermal energy alone, allowing a panoramic view of the land itself.

"Welcome to Hell, Ranma," Hild noted, all traces of humor gone from her voice though the redhead hardly noticed. The dive in had been exhilarating enough and now the molten, super heated landscape below was occupying her full attention. The Mistress of Hell itself watched the girl's back in an almost impassive manner. Might as well get this over with, she decided grimly, hoping for a quick end to her own personal torment. "The Pit, Neltharion-kun. Give us the grand tour."

The beast's only reply was to bleed altitude and descend down among the terrain itself, dipping low across the lava blasted lands with the powerful strokes of it's spindly black wings. Ranma could pick out detail among the heat scarred crags, and much of that detail was grim. Lines of humanoid figures -- most nude -- trekked across the blistering landscape that was by every indication molten in nature while demonic task masters accompanied them, shepherding the groups with weapons of fire. They streaked by as Neltharion banked off, descending sharply into a canyon of molten lava. While the glowing orange mass of superheated fury was more than enough to catch Ranma's attention, it was another standout that had her gaping.

People.

They were buried -- No, embedded, she corrected herself as they blurred by -- into the sheer cliff walls. Thousands upon thousands. Even with the rush of wind, she could hear the wailing as the dragon wound through the canyon lake. The heat she imagined was bad enough... Watching the lake burp molten lava high into the air and into the entombed damned, burning them quite literally alive was damn near horrifying. Flesh melted away with the cascade of liquid fire, leaving animated skeletons that still continued to thrash with pain. Ranma turned back to Hild for some form of explanation; something to tell her what was going on, and instead found the woman's purple eyes cold with purpose. The expressionless demoness met the martial artists own stare without emotion and Ranma tilted her head studying her.

What is going through your mind, little one? Hild wondered behind the facade, genuinely curious as to what that penetrating gaze of hers was reading in her. Ranma held her study another moment longer before turning back to the ghoulish view... With purpose? The woman wondered as Ranma didn't turn away from the torturous sight as she expected, let alone squirm with the visage racing past them. Instead, she watched, then watched some more as Neltharion turned its head lazily to the left and torched a section of the passing wall with a gout of flame. More screams pitched and faded with the act and the dragon floated up and out of the canyon, coming to bear on a wide, flat plateau in the middle of a sea of lava.

A number of curved Black obelisks hooked into the sky around the plateau, as if the land mass were within the grasp of black talons. At at it's center was a hole... A massive pit. Neltharion circled the site twice, giving Ranma a clear view of bottomless pit and the people milling around it. Victims, she surmised due to the crimson, gangling demons chasing the nearly nude humans around. Beyond the pit was a single structure- a throne whose back rest stretched almost as high as the black talons themselves, but was found to be topped by a single ethereal orange eye, it's slitted pupil darting too and fro as it surveyed the horizon beyond. The glowing eye tracked them for a moment before moving on and the dragon rode the silent wind in for its touchdown. Feet from the ground the dragon suddenly reared back as if to avoid the single human that had not managed to clear his landing area in time. He floated a moment on the back beat of his wings before snatching the slow biped and flicking it into the pit. Neltharion's landing was accompanied by the man's pathetic howl as he flailed through the air, disappearing into the gaping abyss.

Ranma just sat there, barely able to accept that the beast she had just ridden to their destination had just so casually disposed of another life. Several lives if she counted the flaming of the canyon wall. Hild slipped off the scaled drake, watching the crimson demons of her own design chase down more people and herd them into the pits, where they fell either whole or in part depending on their level of cooperation. Ranma hopped off after her, crystalline blue staring into the white haired woman's back.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" The Daimakaichō turned back to her with an arched eyebrow, still sporting the same all business countenance.

The martial artists gaze narrowed, indicating just how thin her patience was wearing. An ass kicking and even yanking on a giant slab of metal was one thing, but this... It was pure, unmitigated torture, and Hild... "Look, I don't claim to be a genius but I've been around enough sensei in my time to know when one is trying to make a point. This stuff is pretty screwed up, so what's yours?"

The Mistress of hell took the girls measure and added another notch of respect in her regard. There is a point, child and best I get to it before you get the wrong idea. "The tour... Hell... Everything... I need you to understand exactly what I do, Ranma-chan. This place is not simply a holding tank for the misbehaved. It is eternal damnation and those finding themselves here are treated as such."

The woman turned, crossing the distance to the pit while Ranma noted that demons and their prey alike made a wide berth of her. She looked down into the empty black and spoke. "Ogdru, is Oscar-kun down there?" Her voice echoed down into the abyss into nothingness and she frowned after another minute of silence. "If you do not awaken, Ogdru Hem, I shall flood your abode with molten lava and coat your slug-like remains with salt."

A low, mournful groan met her threat.

"Better," She nodded to the pit with satisfaction. "Now is Saint-Just down there or not?"

The atmosphere vibrated with another bassy rumble.

"Then bring him up," The woman snapped. "And hoist that jackass Samil up with him."

An oily slither echoed from the bottom the blackness and Hild turned away from it, angling off to the throne beyond. The humans scattered and demons bowed as she walked through the riotous mass, paying little mind to their antics. "Come, Ranma-chan. I have somebody I would like to introduce you to."

Ranma followed the Grand Demoness, warily eying the demons and their panic stricken victims as both now looked upon her with the same respect and terror as the woman she trailed behind. Damn creepy, she decided, but endured. As long as I get an answer soon... Hild to three small steps up to the black leather and ivory throne, settling in with an easy smile, motioning Ranma next to her who in turn shrugged and took the proffered position but with crossed her arms. Just as Ranma was about to question what they were doing, a mass of oil black tentacles rose from the pit, writhing and slither over flesh. No... A man? She watched as it continued to snake around his body quite literally violating him in every way shape and form before her very eyes. Ranma's eyes were the size of dish plates now as she stared... Gawked at the sight.

"What... the...."

"You've had your fun, Ogdru," Hild spoke calmly, and the martial artist got the distinct impression she wasn't referring to the guy. "Put Oscar down so that we may speak to him."

The tentacles found the ledge before the women easily enough, depositing him with careful precision. Its coils withdrew, leaving the huddling, slime encased adult to his fate.

"Saint-Just." Hild's deceptively light voice cause the main to recoil, shivering at the black marble lip of the pit. For a moment, Ranma couldn't tell which the man preferred, the thing in the pit or Hild. Apparently the matter was reconciled within what was left of the stranger's psyche and he took up at the pair, his eyes darting almost imperceptibly at the demoness' companion before focusing fully on Hild herself.

"Y...Y...Yes, Daimakaichō-sama?"

"That, Ranma-chan, is Oscar Saint-Just." Hild's smile widened and she pushed herself off the throne, walking around the man; her entire demeanor gloating. "He was once the right hand man of a dictatorship and then the dictator himself." She paused, chuckling at the man as if sharing a private joke. "Politics and all that, right Oscar-kun?" The man shuffled back away from the white haired woman and Ranma got her first clear glimpse of this particular victim; a prominent nose, blackened sleep deprived eyes, the makings of a permanent five-o'clock shadow and -- The martial did a double take, staring at the bullet hole in his forehead. "Anyway, Saint-Just here didn't just rule an empire... he was either directly and indirectly responsible for well over a million deaths... Sure his buddy called the shots at first, but Oscar pulled the strings. Assassinations, poisonings, political cullings... All for the greater good. He was literally in a position to stop a truely massive war, but instead fueled it mercilessly."

"Shit."

"Shit, indeed," Hild nodded with Ranma's single word observation. "In fact, you could say his influence is still being felt. That war is still going and his machinations are still being felt. How is that for irony? The man was assassinated, shot in the head and forfeited his soul. He's here in hell now and still killing people out there." The Mistress of hell looked back at Ranma who was watching the drama play out before her with wide eyes, thoughts churning behind them. "Needless to say, we've done our best to make him feel right at home."

A tanned arm flashed out, catching the man's head before he could jerk away and unceremoniously pushed him back over the edge of the pit. She turned back to Ranma without another thought to the man, whose scream down was suddenly intercepted by a sickening, splurching sound far sooner than the bottom could have possibly been reached. She couldn't help but to acknowledge the shiver that sound produced within and waited for Hild to continue.

"Do you see where this is going, Ranma-chan?" The Grand Demoness didn't look back, instead opting to view the edge of the pit. "Ogdru, pull Samil up now."

The gaping hole began to slurp nauseously and the black, oily tentacles rose forth one more. Ranma fought the blanch that threatened to overtake her as they deposited another man gently upon the pits edge after withdrawing to hover above him. He was a black man, she noted, covered in slime like the last. The novelty of his skin tone was superseded by the the look of abject horror on his face as he scampered away from the motherly tentacles, only to stop cold as he noted the woman in his path.

"H...Hi...Hild...!"

"And I had thought you would forget me," The Daimakaichō smiled sweetly, beckoning Ranma to her side. The martial artist complied with extreme reluctance. "Have you enjoyed your two years with Ogdru-chan?"

"Neeehhh... no! Please no more!" The man wheezed with a heavy African accent. One of the smaller tentacles dipped in to caress his cheek in an almost loving manner and the broken man hastily batted it away.

"If you continue like that, you may hurt her feelings," Hild emoted feigned sympathy with a frown while the tentacle hovered above him eagerly. The grand Demoness turned to Ranma in an offhanded manner. "This is Samil Ortega, born and raised in an unimportant backwater village in Africa. He was impressed into one of the military gangs at an early age and swore his fealty to the local warlord, looting and pillaging at his master's behest."

The redhead stared at the pathetic man, barely able to envision that he could have possibly amounted to anything more than the husk before her.

"Samil-chan rose through the ranks as monsters tend to do, and while one could ultimately blame his environment, he openly ignored the divine spark placed within his being and embraced the lifestyle," The Daimakaichō continued in an almost bored manner. "Samil raped and murdered his way to the top, earning his leaders favor until dispatching him with a car bomb in the middle of a crowded market place. From there he began to systematically exterminate the tribal villages around him in a genocidal campaign to consolidate his power base. Men... Women... Children... It didn't matter."

Ranma's blue gaze hardened, her sympathy rapidly evaporating for the ex-warlord whose eyes were darting to and fro as if seeing invisible ghosts on the edge of his vision.

"Samil also had a thing for small children." Hild's boredom deepened into a serious frown. "He would routinely cull the villages before burning them down. He would kill their parents, use the children and discard them if they were lucky. If not..." her shrug said all that needed to be said. "Needless to say, the local population was quite relieved when an anonymous surgical air strike from one of the larger countries levelled his compound with him inside."

Hild turned away from the frail ex-warlord with contempt, walking back to her throne. It took her several steps to realize that the redhead had not accompanied her. She turned, finding the girl still staring into the cowering man. What are you thinking, child?

As it turned out, Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of martial arts was thinking thoughts she had never once considered before in her meager sixteen and a half years of life. She was a martial artist, defender of the weak and the man kneeling before her was the complete antithesis of that very concept. Oh sure, the other guy was a mass murderer too, but this one... he specifically targeted the weak and innocent. Child rapist, Ranma's ideology connected with a fury that she had never felt before. If there was one thing the child of Genma Saotome would never be accused of it would be emotional ambiguity and at that very moment, the martial artist who had faced innumerable rivals and martial arts challenges was seriously considering an option she had never availed herself of: ripping the life out of the man she was staring down.

...if not for the fact that he was already dead.

That thought alone added its own wrinkle the emotional storm raging within her. The guy was already dead. In fact, Hild was already torturing the jackass with methods far worse than she could dream up, as evidenced by the midnight black tentacles hanging expectantly over his person. The thought, however, didn't stop the wave of killing intent from cresting within her, causing Hild's eyes to widen in surprise as she watched.

"You're lucky I didn't stumble across your ass while you were still alive," The girl very nearly growled, fixing Samil with a hateful glare. The man began to whimper with the wave of focused hatred though try as she might, she couldn't think of anything worse to do to him than was already being done. She looked up at the nearest tentacle floating patiently overhead with that thought in mind.

"He's all yours."

Horror enveloped Samil's face and she turned to walk away. This time, the sickening slurp that followed didn't even faze her.

"I'll... see... (huff) you... defeated... (huff) harlot!"

Urd, Goddess of the Past simply arched a doubtful eyebrow at the leotard clad girl sprawled on the dojo mat. The garment itself held the sheen of sweat from intense physical exertion, evidenced by the fact that she was using her gymnastics baton slash spear in a vain attempt to remain upright. Ukyo and Shampoo were in similar conditions if only on opposite sides of the dojo. All three had gone all out against the perceived fiancee threat, only to have their efforts deflected or turned against them time and again. The trio scowled from their positions but produced little else in the way of hostile effort; their various weapons scattered across the dojo mat like so many child's toys. The white haired goddess rolled her eyes and turned back to Mara who had been watching the entire spectacle with a bemused expression.

"Will you tell them that I am not the gender jock's fiancee?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," The blonde demoness and right hand of Hild shook her head cluelessly. Mara then turned the the short haired girl next to her with warped smile. "Do you know what she's talking about?"

Nabiki Tendo fought off the sinking pit in her stomach, forcing the emotion from her face. Of course she knew what the woman was talking about, but it was far too late to reverse her position within the scheme she herself had set in motion. Sure Tendo, she berated herself mentally. Go head and explain to the homicidal fiancees that this isn't the same woman. It's just her uncanny body double, and here's your money back while I'm at it.

"No idea at all."

"Uh-huh." Urd fixed Nabiki with a dry look, clearly doubting her word. She turned back to the largely inert fiancees in waiting. "Let me make this absolutely clear... I am not interested in him. Or her for that matter."

"That's right," Mara pointed out. "You all must have her mistaken for her evil twin."

"Right," The Okonomiyaki master scowled. "Tell us another one."

Urd shot a glare over to the innocent looking demoness. "You're not helping."

"Jeez, strike me down for being a good samari--" Mara's self indulgent humor was cut short by the dojo door sliding open. All eyes turned upon the visage of Akane Tendo who in turn stared upon the people in her family dojo, two strangers, three rivals and one sister.

"What the hell is going on in here?!"

"Akane-chan," Nabiki acknowledge, hoping to head off her particular involvement in this mess. She stepped over to her sister and began to pull her back out the door. "It's probably best we--"

"That woman is trying to steal Ranma away!" Ukyo seized the moment to enlist another to her cause, and Nabiki's pulling at her sister's sleeve suddenly ceased to be effective.

"Akane, you do not want to--"

"Spatula girl right!" Shampoo chimed in. "White hair woman try to bed Airen!"

"We shall not allow it!" Kodachi rounded out their proclamation.

"You've got to be kidding!" Each verbal accusation fell against Akane's ears, serving only to increase her irritation. What she heard was that some woman was trying to take Ranma for herself. How those words were interpreted was another matter entirely. "That two timing, perverted, arrogant..."

"I AM NOT HIS FIANCEE!" Urd bellowed, clearly at her wits end.

"Evil twin," Mara inserted easily.

"YOU SHUT UP!" The Goddess whipped around, finding the blonde staring innocently at the ceiling.

Urd turned back to her audience. "I never have nor ever will want that supremely annoying, egotistical martial arts spore as a fiancee!"

"Indeed, your braying sounds much like the peasant Tendo," Kodachi rolled her eyes, far from oblivious to the toes she was stepping on.

"What?!"
"Hey!"

"She's got a point, Sugar," Ukyo chuckled even as she dragged her battle spatula across the dojo mat and back to her person. After the half hour ass whooping, she was more than happy to poke the stranger's ego with a stick. Including Akane in the same remark was simply icing on the proverbial cake. "Akane says that all the time too."

"Don't compare me to this hussy!" The youngest Tendo bristled back and the tanned woman's head whipped around. Nabiki watched the exchange, all but crying on the inside now as her sister's ego took one too many hits in an all too predictable fashion.

"Who are you calling a hussy?!"

"I'm calling you a hussy, hussy!" Akane spat back. "Only a hussy would be chasing after that pervert!"

"Oh, so I'm a pervert and a hussy now?" Urd scowled, prompting strands of lightning to crackle off her.

"Just calling it like I see it," the youngest Tendo sniffed with contempt, but stepped into an offensive stance with the display of power. Off to the side, the remaining fiancees watched eagerly as their newest ally unwittingly sided with them even if she was little more than a sacrificial pawn. Akane would undoubtedly go down in seconds and those seconds would be taken advantage of. Shampoo's eyes flicked over to Ukyo, who in turned nodded ever so slightly. Kodachi tensed up as well, awaiting the commencement of hostilities.

"And I'm seeing an overconfident, prepubescent little girl who has no idea what she's getting into," Urd shook her head, her cool gaze boring into the girl. "Could you possibly be any more dense on this?"

Akane Tendo's fist balled and a red aura snapped into place. The words that the other fiancees had been expecting since her arrival finally fell from the sister's mouth and they readied themselves.

"I, Akane Tendo of the Tendo School of Indiscriminate Grappling challenge you!"

Ranma Saotome, Heir of the Anything Goes School of Martial arts was quite simply in heaven.

Well, not exactly.

But the redhead martial artist was currently surrounded by some of the best damn Italian food she had ever had the pleasure of sampling, and Hild was right: These old Italian guys made a mean ravioli. Ranma eyed another one, but opted to plunge the fork she bore into the thick plate of spaghetti instead, slurping the noodles down without regard to decency or those looking on in either surprise or amusement. The girl looked up from her plate at Hild, who was definitely among the latter.

"Oh this is good," She decided between mouthfuls, licking sauce away from the edge of her lips. Around her, men in dapper black pinstripe suits chuckled at the girl's antics. Even the rounder cigar smoking mob boss in the corner of the establishment couldn't help but to smirk. "Damn good."

Hild took a bite of her own cheese sauce smothered ravioli dish, sampling it delicately though definitely enjoying the scene before her. "I had you pegged for Italian the moment we met."

"Mmmf, mmmrrf." Ranma nodded. Hild wasn't sure what the mouthful of words and food had meant to convey, but the meaning was clear enough.

"And you, Hild-sama!" She turned to the chef who had been standing by to make sure his masterpieces were exactly that... Masterpieces. He was a portly fellow with a full face adorned by a curly mustache. Like Santa Claus, Ranma noted, if Santa Claus delivered fine Italian food instead toys, which was a far more acceptable arrangement to her anyway. By this point, the smallish horns peeking from his forehead were beyond her notice and his rolling accent continued to pitch against Ranma's ear. "You do nota visit enough! Look at you! You're wasting away to skin and bones!"

The Daimakaichō arched provocatively, affording the chef, his waiters and the other patrons a clear view of all she had to offer. She smiled with mischief as half the restaurant choked on their various dishes outright. "Is that what this is now? Skin and bones?"

"Uh.. er..." The plump chef's brain quickly emptied of all thought for a singular moment as skin tight black and pink Lycra hugged her curves and it was another moment before he returning back to his sense while Ranma nearly coughed up her own food laughing. "N-No, Hild sama! Most assuredly not! That is to say..."

"I swear that never gets old..." The redhead chortled as their audience recovered their wits. Another ravioli was promptly isolated and eliminated with prejudice by fork point.

"As if you're that far from that yourself, young one." Hild adopted a knowing, matronly tone. "But far be it for us to ignore your male aspect as well."

For the first since sitting down, Ranma Saotome's food intake paused. "Huh?"

"In my zeal, I've been focusing far too much on your female aspect," The Grand Demoness nodded. "Far be it for somebody I... care about to not receive a well rounded education."

"Well... rounded...?" Ranma pieced the words together like the alien concept it was. What exactly did 'well rounded' mean and why did she suddenly feel a cold shiver propagate down her spine?

"Indeed," The woman nodded almost to herself. "Yes, I shall have Malcanthet see to it."

"Thanks, but--"

"Nonsense, it is the least I can do." The white haired female waved Ranma's hesitation away as inconsequential. "Speaking of which, your curse."

"My curse?" The change in topics caught Ranma completely off guard, sufficiently so that she failed to pursue the previous one.

"I have not been completely forthright with you, Ranma-chan, much as it pains me to admit." Hild's face fell into a mask of pained remorse. "You have opened yourself to me and I owe you this much."

"Dammit, I thought we went over this," Ranma shook her head with annoyance. "Told ya I would have kicked their asses too. Heck, you're doin' a better job at it than I could."

"Don't sell yourself short." Hild murmured to herself as the slightest smile creeped across her lips. Against all odds, the girl understood and it was a reprieve to her own conscience. Regardless, that bond didn't absolve her of her new responsibility to the girl. "I can break the curse, Ranma."

Ranma blinked, ceasing all movement. The fork she held slowly lowered to the plate of spaghetti.

"No silly mystical water, no magical henshin rods," The Daimakaichō elaborated patiently now that she had the martial artist's complete and undivided attention. "Breaking your Jusenkyo curse is mere child's play with the power at my disposal. Much as I shall miss the red hair, I would be remiss to allow that particular charade to continue."

Ranma's jaw simply hung as a collision of thoughts clogged her neural pathways. The fact that Hild had been playing her own games with the curse was accepted as a given and pushed to the side as the greater concept of an actual cure forced its way through her through process. The note of regret held within Hild's voice was also cataloged, driving a wedge of doubt into what would otherwise be a foregone conclusion toward accepting her offer without reservation. She didn't exactly like the curse, true, but thanks to the woman across from her, she didn't dislike it either... Certainly not to the degree she had loathed in starting out. Hild had shown her there was fun to be had with it and that was a product of short supply in the martial artist's life... And in a way, she was certain it was something that Hild needed as well. Ranma still wasn't certain of what had happened to divide the mother and daughter, but she knew scars when she saw them; especially when everybody around her carried them to one degree or another.

A gentle hand found her shoulder and Ranma snapped out of her thoughts with a start, finding Hild looking upon her knowingly. "I will survive, little one. Do what you must."

Hild watched the redhead wrestle with the decision for another couple of moments and couldn't help but to feel touched by her concern with each second of indecision that passed. She knew it was a major hurdle in Ranma's life and to see her very well being placed along side that was more than an honor. Finally, after several long minutes Ranma's eyes fell away from hers.

"I think I'm gonna take it."

"The fact that you even struggle over such a decision is nothing to be ashamed of," the Grand Demons smiled kindly. "Few have taken my well being into such consideration in a very long time and that alone is enough." She paused, letting her purple eyes slide over to the restaurant patrons in attendance. "And if I ever get word that any of you spoken of this, I shall arrange for you all to be Gothmog's chew toy for the next few decades."

Their impromptu audience suddenly found their dishes and the food they contained magnitudes more interesting than the conversation shared by the Ruler of Hell and her guest.

"So it shall be," Hild nodded with a smile, finishing the last of her food and dabbing the edges of her lips with a napkin. "Allow me a day or so to brush up on the details... I must say I haven't touched a Jusenkyo type curse in years and I'd rather not go about experimenting it's removal on a good friend."

"I..." The curse. Removed. No strings attached. It was probably the single most valuable gift any one person could have bestowed upon her. There was no question where the woman herself in Ranma's life now. "It's... Thanks, Hild-san. It's really..."

"Posh," The white haired woman shook her head. "It's a wave of the finger, nothing more. Shall we get back to the dojo?"

Ranma broke out into a grin, nodding decisively. The redhead pushed away from the table and the attending waiter moved in to collect their plates. She began to follow Hild to the door but paused, looking back at the unfinished ravioli longingly. The chef noted the pause with a swell of pride and stepped up next to her.

"Shall I box the remainder for later, Daimakaichoko?"

"Oh yeah, definitely that." Ranma nodded, completely oblivious to her new title in favor of the promised food's later consumption.... Or the fond smile from Hild at the establishment's door.

Poof!

Mara's head swiveled with the sound, watching as fire displaced atmosphere to reveal the Daimakaichō chatting with her red headed pet project. The blonde demoness' eyes narrowed as she took in the details, the foremost of those being her superiors pleasant -- almost genuinely pleasant -- demeanor as she conversed with the red head. The sight caused Mara no small amount of dread as it represented a radical shift to the world as knew it... Or just the boss yanking both of their respective chains, she hedged mentally, then watched as both noticed the bodies.

"Oh, wow."

Ranma's blue eyes widened as they tracked across the floor, noting the bodies in question. Akane, Ukyo, Shampoo and Kodachi lay sprawled across the dojo bat at odd angles, obviously alive, but completely inert. Asleep? Ranma stared, also noting the males interspersed between them. Asleep at her feet were Ryoga, Kuno and Mousse, dropped to the floor at such an angle as if their puppeteer's strings had been cut. In the middle of the carnage stood Urd, who was clearly conscious and... ruffled. The woman's robes had seen the wear of combat and even her hair was failing to cooperate or fall in line with it's normal styling.

"I must say, daughter of mine," Hild smirked upon surveying the exact same visage as Ranma. "This is quite possibly your best work to date."

"YOU!" The Goddess of the Past whipped around, finally noting the new arrivals. "You did this!"

"I did no such thing," The grand demoness replied, completely unperturbed by the accusation.

"You did!" Urd was ranting now, pointing at Nabiki who stood next to the far wall. "You took her and arranged... this to happen!"

"Took her?" Hild arched a skeptical eyebrow in Nabiki's direction. "She practically leapt into my arms willingly, Urd-chan. Anything beyond that has little to do with me."

"Oh, I doubt that," Ranma frowned as the angry Goddess pressed her case, causing Hild's own expression to clouded into one she recognized all too well. "You knew. Compromising mortal integrity is what you do best and you worked the angles, didn't you?"

"If you are implying that I somehow intended to involve you--"

"Save it," Urd snapped back, motioning to the slumbering occupants on the dojo floor. "Even if you by some miracle didn't want to involve me, you still managed to involve seven other innocent mortals in an all out brawl!"

This time Hild remained silent behind her stony countenance, but the redhead had had enough.

"Jeez... You're startin' to sound like the tomboy." Ranma rolled her eyes, then nudged the comatose Ryoga experimentally with a foot. The Goddess' focus moved sharply to her now. "And innocent my ass. They woulda did something like that all by themselves."

"Idiot!" Urd directed her full ire at the redhead. "Do you even realize the danger you're in!?"

"Danger?" Ranma blinked innocently, turning back to Hild. "I'm in danger?"

"Indeed child," Hild replied in all seriousness. "I am the Daimakaichō, the supreme ruler of Hell itself."

"Oh jeez," Ranma breathed a plainly exaggerated sigh of relief. "I thought it was somethin' serious." Hild blinked, then stifled a giggle at the girl's antics and watched as she turned back to Urd with a bored look. "Or was there anything else I should be knowing about?"

Urd stared, practically gaping at the redhead now. She knew! Her brain screamed indignantly. She knew and was still cavorting around with mother!?

"As much as I'm enjoying this..." A new voice cut in and all eyes turned to Nabiki Tendo who wore a carefully neutral mask. "What the hell is going on here, Saotome?"

"Why you askin' me?" Ranma snorted, finding her own humor in the situation and the bodies piled around the woman. "Ask the violent maniac there."

"Violent..." Urd twitched, beginning to crackle once more. "Maniac...?"

Nabiki watched the as the woman began to manifest lightning for the second time since first laying eyes on her and backed away, remembering what had happened the last time it had occurred. The fiancees and her sister had launched their ineffectual four pronged assault on the woman, ensuring each got the hejeebies shocked out of them each time they touched the woman. The engagement last just long enough to draw in Ranma's rivals, who for once were not focused on Ranma. Mousse's association with Shampoo had probably led them to the dojo, inciting yet more violent activities. The duck boy came to Shampoo's defense, Ryoga to Akane's and Kuno was simply determined to win the right to date another female through ritual combat.

The look-alike had finally gotten fed up and uttered the word 'sleep'. And they did. Right there on spot. It was really, really creepy from Nabiki's point of view and she resolved to stay on the woman's good side, or at least remain unnoticed.

Evil twin, Nabiki recalled the blonde's words, who had since rejoined the person who she obviously deferred to as her superior and self proclaimed 'Ruler of Hell'. Looking at both white haired women side by side for the first time, the resemblance was absolutely uncanny, if only just short of the label of 'twins'. Both had bronzed skin and white hair, but they carried themselves in completely different manners. The first she had met had changed attire somewhere along the way from the revealing business suit to pink and black Lycra, skin tight and adorned with jewelry and tassels. Her facial features were only slightly sharper than those of the one she had come to know as 'Urd' and her hair was styled into a long elegant crop that flowed around her body. Urd herself was dressed provocatively herself, though her robes lent a certain elegance to the matter and was still several notches more conservative than her 'evil twin'.

No wonder the plan went down in flames, she scolded herself mentally even though she knew there was no way she could have ever anticipated such an outcome. Nor did the coincidental arrival of both appear to be planned in any way, she judged by the hostile banter. Even when that analysis was all said and done, on fact remained: She had been played... Played like a fiddle by the first woman and it stung.

"Just proven' my point," Ranma retorted in that arrogant tone his opponents knew all too well. Urd's cheek twitched a couple more times before the lightning completely died off and her face dropped into a calm facade.

"This is not a game, Saotome," The redhead watched the change of mood curiously. "You are a diversion to her; a mouse to the cat. She will break you, laugh and dangle you above the fires of damnation. It is what she does. What she is. If you're smart, you'll just walk away."

Nabiki's eyes flicked from Urd to the her near twin. Mistress of hell. Fires of damnation? The situation was just getting too weird, even by Saotome standards. They couldn't be serious. But Ranma... The redhead took a silent few moments to collect her own thoughts. Nabiki watched as the martial artist's own pretentious mask dropped away and Nabiki swallowed. She was serious. Serious about every challenge the Urd had spoken. The jock couldn't possibly think that the woman beside her was...

"That's what she told me too," Ranma nodded, completely without pretense. Urd nearly stumbled with the admission, certain now that her mother had completely broken the child during their trip to hell. There couldn't possibly have been any other-- The guiless manner disappeared as quickly as it had manifested, replaced by hostility that spoke of anything but broken. "But unlike you, I'm not blind enough to believe that's all there is to Hild-san."

The Goddess' jaw dropped completely now. Even Hild blinked. "Wha... What?!"

"She's got a job." Ranma jabbed her thumb back at the woman, leaning fully into her verbal offensive. "An important job. There are bastards out there who don't give a rats ass and guess who gets them at the end of the day? Nasty pieces of shit that deserve worse than just gettin the crap beat out of em'. Hell, I'd be feedin' them to that Ogg-thing too if I were in charge."

"You... you..." Urd's tan seemed to pale slightly as she stumbled over the redhead's words. "She... showed you Ogdru?"

"Big, black and slimy? Yep," Ranma nodded, her blue eyes glinting with steel now. "Couldn't think of anybody better to introduce them too either... For a good, long time."

"You... You have no idea," The Goddess of the Past clung to rational thought by a thread. Rarely had she met a mortal that so openly courted her mother. "She will corrupt, influence, destroy. These are her games. You are her--"

"...Entertainment, blah, blah, blah." The Saotome rolled her eyes. "People got their own choice to--"

"Thank you Ranma-chan," Hild murmured, patting the martial artist on the head gently as she stepped forward. "Enough, but thank you. This is well worn ground we are traversing now, daughter and I. She didn't approve then and I'm quite certain she fails to now."

"The biggest understatement of the last two thousand years." Urd quipped, finally recovering her mental balance. She folded her arms defensively, glaring at her mother.

Hild sighed wearily, turning to Ranma. "I'll be back in a day or so to complete our business, alright?" Ranma nodded grumpily, but relented with Hild's smile. "Very well then! Mara!"

The blonde nodded and both infernal figures disappeared in a gout of flame. Urd stared at the martial artist a moment longer, who stared back a challenge in return. The Goddess promptly vanished with a derisive "Hmmf!" Leaving Ranma, Nabiki and seven slumbering martial artists alone.

The Mercenary took her own moment to collect her thoughts. Never had she seen the Saotome so ardently defend another... or be handled so effectively by a woman, she contemplated before opening her mouth. "Ranma... what the hell just happened?"

The redhead opened her mouth, then closed it as if reconsidering her answer to the question. "It's... a family thing. Ain't my right to say." She decided, walking to the dojo's entrance but pausing at the sliding door. The martial artist gained a rare, contemplative countenance. "But just some advice... For your own good..."

"And what's that?" Nabiki cocked her head, still trying to resolve the last fifteen minutes.

"I know you like to deal, but when it comes to Hild-san... don't."

With that, Ranma left the structure leaving the ice queen alone with her thoughts... and a foreboding dread she couldn't quite identify.

"You didn't keep your promise!"

Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts blinked. One moment he had been in free fall, plummeting down a sheer cliff face in an effort to reach his mother before they were dashed against the surf and rocks below. A hundred meters had already been eaten away in their mutual plunge and for anybody else, their deaths were all but certain... Certain for anybody Ranma Saotome. The teen was considered a martial arts prodigy for a reason and he demonstrated that considerable aptitude now, rotating his mother through open air and into his arms, pulling the still sheathed katana from its decorative wrap and hurling it down into the cliff side below.

"Genma. Ranma. To retain our family honor you must commit seppuku!"

He had pulled off the nearly impossible, landing on the embedded honor blade with less than twenty five meters to spare, only to have the blade slip out of it's sheath with the merest shift in his mothers weight, sending them into the cold water below.

And to here, his death.

In that moment, his mother had seen the curse and pronounced it unmanly. Now, he was dressed into traditional white, surrounded by white. Next to him was his father, the fool. It had been his pact that had forced this fate upon them, forced him to hide, forced them to this very outcome. The fat old panda had obstructed his every effort to control the discovery and in doing so, let his very mother nearly fall to her death. Damn the old man...

The ritual knives sat before them and Ranma picked his up, wrapping it in cloth even as Nodoka Saotome brought the katana to bear. "Do you have any last words, Son?"

Ranma bowed his head. "I wanted... Wanted to tell you..."

"Perhaps." His mother nodded, her features softening for a moment before returning to fierce determination. "That would not change the fact that you are still only half a man, however."

"But--!"

"Prepare yourself!" She ordered sternly and the fight drained out of him in that moment. There would be no reprieve and his mother would not accept him... or her. Ranma grabbed the short blade from the simple wooden block before him...

The sharp stab of pain woke Ranma up with a start, prompting him to instinctively scan his immediate space for for threats. The dream again, he frowned as the edge of adrenaline fell off. No katana were found within his room, though the predawn glow was found filtering through the window. Regardless, the threat was still out there... Waiting.

"Dammit," He mumbled, sliding out of his his futon and reaching over to his still packed belongings. Technically, he should be hanging them up in his newly acquired closet, but he still wasn't used to the fact that he even had his own room, let alone that he was now residing in the home of his birth. Not just that, he admitted mentally, donning a gi. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out his mother still wasn't comfortable with the curse. She had declared him manly, but still toted the sword around as if looking for any fault in that manly exterior. Least she didn't chop my head off outright, I guess...

The martial artist slid the window open and hoped out into dew moistened grass of the back yard. The landscape itself was spartan, adorned with simple grass and nowhere nearly as large as the Tendos' courtyard. Still, it was sufficient for his purposes and Ranma stepped into a lazy kata, slowly picking up speed. It was a strange, almost disconcerting situation he was in, he mused as reflex took over. After nearly a year and change of hiding from his mother, being a 'guest' at the Tendos' and staring down the fiancee gun, it was odd- nearly alien -- to be have been separated from it all.

Well, almost all, Ranma mused darkly. Technically he was still under the fiancee gun, if removed only slightly from it. The threat of beheading was still there, but at least the curse was out in the open. Whatever, Ranma brushed the thoughts aside as he entered the kata's main sequence. I have a cure! A real cure! The thought nearly dumbfounded the martial artist with amazement, causing him to fall out of the free flowing form for a moment. A cure, no strings attached, no questions asked. An appreciative smile found it's way to his lips as he recollected Hild's offer and just what it would mean for his life. Never going to be a girl again! Never going to be a girl again! His brain chanted, beginning a third iteration of the litany before dropping off in wistful remembrance. It had been fun. Kinda, he mused. One monumental pain in the ass, but it wasn't all bad. Hild had shown him that. Still, I'm a guy. And guys are guys, he rationalized, reaffirming his position on the matter with a mental nod. Only a small voice of dissension at the back of his mind cared to acknowledged just how much he had riding on that singular fact.

The scrapping sound of the house door sliding open drew Ranma's attention further but he continued with the kata, flashing through punches and kicks, ultimately taking them into the air with a mastery drilled into him since the day he could walk. Another couple minutes of silence in the art passed before his watcher interrupted with the slightest clearing of her throat.

"Breakfast, son." Food, Ranma confirmed mentally and took that as his cue to wind down. The blur of thrusts and weaving subsided into a simpler flow before the martial artist drew completely still. He drew a deep breath and turned to his mother, who smiled back gently. And she's still carrying that damn katana around! A portion of Ranma's psyche balked as the remainder forced the smile from slipping from his lips. "A manly performance, Ranma-kun. Are you always up so early?"

"Best time to practice," The pigtailed boy nodded, cautiously optimistic with her presence. He had been declared manly, after all. "Normally with Pops. Can't say I miss the trips to the Koi pond though."

"Koi pond?" She tilted her head curiously, leading him back into the house.

"Yeah, he'd target his throws for the water on purpose," Ranma recounted the annoyance, heedless of the ground he now tread. "Would trigger the curse and soak me to the bone right before school."

"While I'm sure dear Genma had the best of intentions, the curse itself most unmanly." Nodoka shook her head. Ranma watched her grip on the wrapped katana tighten and suppressed his on unease as she did. "Though why he would do so purposely is beyond me, however."

"Tell me about it," Ranma grumbled as his mother set the table for what was shaping up to be a very traditional breakfast: Rice and miso soup. Both sat opposite of one another and the martial artist picked at his meal tepidly.

"You certainly have grown," Nodoka commented with a warm smile. Ranma returned it hesitantly, noting the wrapped blade had been set near their table within easy reach. "Certainly not the small boy that left this house all those years ago! I'm sure you've been on many manly adventures since then!"

"You could say that," He confirmed with the slightest edge of humor. "But the really weird stuff didn't begin to happen until after Jusenkyo. The curse, Chinese amazons... God, and fiancees crawling out of the woodwork."

"Fiancees?" Nodoka's soup spoon paused at her lips, her eyes suddenly shining with interest. "As in plural?"

"Yeah, plural," Ranma continued, failing to notice the increased attention. "If ya go by the dates I met them, first there was Shampoo, then Akane, Kodachi then Ukyo. Been a few others along the way, but those are the ones that stick around."

"A few others...?" The auburn haired mother was left blinking now, though an odd smile was working its way onto her face. "But what does shampoo have to do with anything?"

"Xiam'Pu, Chinese Amazon," He correct, as if the question were expected. "Though if you go by the dates I was engaged to 'em, Akane was first, Ukyo second, Shampoo third and Kodachi... Well, she's just plain nuts, really."

"And all of these women show their affections for you?" Nodoka inquired eagerly, receiving a roll of the eyes.

"Except the tomboy," Ranma snorted. "I swear she's as violent as they come."

"Akane-chan is just showing her affections for you," His mother stated evenly, causing Ranma to all but boggle at her. "And what do these women think of the curse?"

She had slipped the comment in easily as if it were nothing more than a bi product of their conversation, but Ranma hadn't forgotten katana off to the side. Nor had he missed the sudden absence of body language, as if the woman had become an emotional void in spite of the pleasant tone of her voice. Warning sirens wailed from within the confines of the martial artist's skull.

"Um, well, Akane hates it. So does Kodachi, but for entirely different reasons." Ranma replied, stepping lightly across the conversational minefield. "I'm pretty sure Ukyo considers it a novelty and Shampoo... Um, I don't think she really cares."

"I see," Nodoka nodded as if she were passively taking in the information. "And what do you think of the curse?"

"Uh, it's... Um..." Ranma barely managed to swallow his next bite of rice. His brain froze up, warring between blurting out his real opinion on the curse versus what he knew his mother wanted to hear. Not wanting to instigate another lie, the pig tailed martial artist managed a last minute save. "...Looks a lot like you?"

"I do believe you're right..." His mother blinked with the realization, then frowned. "Even so, I would expect you to refrain from taking that unnatural form. My son is a son, not a daughter."

"Not like I have a choice half the time," Ranma shook his head while neglecting where the other half of his choices fell.

"Of course," Nodoka agreed knowingly. "Certain allowances are to be made, though indulgence is another matter entirely."

"Eh, right." Ranma dissembled, deciding right then and there his mother could never know about his antics with Hild.

"You have attempted to find a cure, of course?"

'Duh' was the first word that wanted to drop from Ranma's mouth, but he smoothed the crude acknowledgement for his mother. "Yeah, more than a couple of times. Locking ladle, Spring of Drown Man here in Japan, a trip back to the springs, an island pool, wishing sword... Umm... I'm forgetting one or two in there somewhere. Never seems to work out."

"A manly effort." Nodoka decided, her tone downright matronly. "Nor would I wouldn't expect my son to give up finding one."

"Ah, sure," Ranma returned as an empty pit began to settle within his stomach. He wanted to tell her that a cure was in his grasp, but... but there was something wrong and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Much as the woman before him was his biological mother, the last ten minutes of their conversation indicated without a doubt that he did not know this woman. He wanted to get to know her... Wanted to be her son, but... but her fixation on manliness was getting downright eerie...

...So eerie that he couldn't help but to press the issue. "So... Um... What if I can't find a cure?"

A visible frown took up residence on his mother's face, but it faded quickly into that pleasant, oblivious smile. "Nonsense. You're my manly son."

"But if I can't?" It was only by sheer chance that he and Hild had met after all, and now Ranma had to know just where he stood with the woman he was to call a mother.

"Ridiculous," her smile broadened and with it, the pit in Ranma's stomach. "Once you find a cure, there will be nothing stopping you from your manly duties."

Her decree stopped him cold, mostly because it didn't register as making any sense what so ever. "'Manly duties'?"

"Of course!" She nodded, positively cheerful now. "You do have so many women to satisfy, after all."

"But... that's..."

"Akane would take precedence per our families accord," The Saotome matriarch ticked off, now clearly excluding Ranma from any collaboration. "I will have to meet the others and while I am not so certain about the foreigner, this Kodachi and Ukyo would undoubtedly make fine mistresses."

"Mistresses?!" Ranma did choke on the word this time. He wasn't exactly innocent himself, but that was exactly what he had been trying to avoid for the last year and a half! "I can't possibly--"

"No, I certainly agree," She continued, allowing her son some measure of relief. "Not while you harbor that decidedly feminine curse."

...Relief that was instantly crushed.

"Look, Mom..." Ranma started off with a protest that died nearly as quickly as it left his tongue upon viewing his mother's expectant visage. "Uh, thanks for the breakfast. Nice ta finally have one with ya... As me, I mean. Not Ranko."

"I'm just finally happy to have my manly son back," Nodoka smiled. "I should expect many more to come!"

"Yeah, definitely," A small measure hope welled up within the martial artist at her sincerity, but it was tempered... Tempered by the fact that he could have just as easily been stuck without a cure and it was painfully obvious that was not something his mother was willing to entertain. The fact that she still kept the katana on her person was damning evidence of that mind set and just the thought of it played across his trust like a fault line.

So what am i to her if I still have the curse? Ranma's psyche grumbled even as he put up a cheerful facade for his mother. A similar parallel played through his mind with the dissent, and it began with the words, "My name is Akane, do you want to be friends?" The pigtailed boy mentally winced with the recollection and everything that followed. And it's happenin' all over again...!

"Um, I gotta go," Ranma pasted on the smile once more, standing up from the table. "Er... Early morning jog."

"Of course," Nodoka nodded amiably, collecting the dishes. "I did interrupt your exercises. Just remember we have lots of catching up to do!"

He nodded and turned to the door. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Prepare to die, Ranma!"

Normally death threats were something to be avoided and were, by most citizens Japan. They went about their everyday lives relatively rival free and thus avoided the need to prepare for the imminent demise, bodily harm and of course the inadvertent random acquisitions of fiancees. Ranma Saotome, of course, was not an average Japanese citizen. He did collect random fiancees. He collected rivals as well, many of whom threatened him bodily harm on a regular basis. And there was, of course, the advisement that he should prepare to die.

Ranma got that a lot.

By the time the Ryoga Hibiki's friendly advise hit his ears, Ranma was already sliding away from the initial downward stroke of the Lost Boy's umbrella. Concrete shattered with the impact, but the umbrella was already back up, tracking Ranma through his blurring evasion. Some would have said Ranma was lucky to have dodged the blow, let alone come out of it alive, but those saying so couldn't have been from Nerima. If they had, they would have known that the martial arts prodigy dancing at the umbrella point couldn't have possibly been defeated in a straight one on one dual without the involvement of extraordinary circumstances...

"Saotome, you enemy of women!"

...Such as Mousse, oppressed Chinese Amazonian male and hidden weapons specialist. A solid arc of weapons flashed in, forcing Ranma to disengage from the umbrella to flip back and away from the various objects that threatened to impale, bludgeon and otherwise maim the black haired teen. While the Amazon was able to dispense his weapons in quanitity, their aim lacked quality. Ryoga diverted a measure of his offensive toward their deflection himself, thereby allowing Ranma some margin of breathing room. Still, the Saotome had seen worse odds. It wasn't as if he were fighting on three fronts.

"You wretch! How dare you ensnare the white haired Goddess of Love! She--OOf!"

The bokken had fallen against Ranma's exposed back, but Ranma was already twisting around with the rush of wind, letting the wooden blade slice the air where he had just stood. The martial artist followed his own sidestep through and grabbed Tatewake Kuno's committed forearm, sending him stumbling off balance into the path of Ryoga Hibiki who, like Mousse was rather indiscriminate in striking what stood between his person and the object of his fury. The long stroke of his weighted umbrella swept Kuno up like a broom, batting the upperclassman aside and embedding him into the nearby retainer wall. He was unconscious before he even peeled away from his indentation, crumpling bonelessly to the sidewalk.

Ranma couldn't have done a better job himself, and said so.

"Nice job, P-chan!"

"And don't call me P-chan!" Ryoga snarled, redoubling his efforts. "Akane was tormented by that white haired witch because of you!"

"Because of me?" Ranma snorted as he dodged left, suddenly reminded of just how much their banter sounded like that of Hild and Urd. "Hey, I didn't tell the tomboy to go around challengin' strangers out of the blue."

"And for Shampoo!" A chain whipped overhead, the it's length terminating in a spiked ball. The martial artist danced through its coils until the chain found Ryoga's umbrella, promptly disarming the Hibiki. The lost boy bared his fangs at the myopic combatant but pressed forward with his offensive, pushing substantial amounts air with the meaty round house he threw in Ranma's direction.

"You're both idiots!" Ranma blurted, losing patience. "I wasn't even there!"

"It's always your fault, Saotome!" Mousse ranted, having expended his current load of ranged weaponry and proceeded to move into the melee. A long sword sprouted from each over sized sleeve. "How dare you inflict such harm on my Shampoo!"

A sliver blade carved the space before Ranma and he batted the flat of its edge aside with the back of his hand. He stepped inside the effort and targeted Mousse's chest with a kick, knocking the boy winded and out of range. "Harm? You should be blaming Urd. She's the one that put all yas to nap time."

"SO YOU DO KNOW HER!" Ryoga roared, pressing a finger into the earth and destroying yet another parcel of street wholesale. "Bakusai Tenketsu!!"

Ten minutes later, three exhausted teen sat on the side of the back street of their brawl. One lazed back easily, his Chinese silks a little worse for the wear while the other two glared at him ominously. Both looked as though they had taken their share of bruising as well, but neither seemed to notice the pain or damage taken. For his part, Ranma simply cast a sidelong glance at the pair and shook his head.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's complicated," He sighed. "And i'm pretty sure you can thank Nabs for most of it."

"Now that I might be willing to believe," Ryoga commented, finally breaking his menacing gaze. "Doesn't make you any less of a dumbass."

"Or womanizer," Mousse added, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose.

"Oh shut up." Ranma rolled his eyes. "They look damn near identical and it bit Nabiki in the ass. I'm bettin' ya she called the girls over and they tore into the wrong person."

"Then who is the right person?" Ryoga interrogated, the veiled threat unmistakable in his voice should the answer prove offensive to his moral sensibilities.

"You enemy of--"

BONK!

"She's a friend, dammit!" The martial artist's elbow came down on Mousse's cranium, preempting the accusation. "I'm allowed to have girl's as just friends, ain't I?!"

"Problem is they all turn into more than that, Saotome!" Ryoga bit back. Instead of the inane comeback he was expecting, Ranma simply chuckled. "And what's so funny?"

"Hild-san as my fiancee..." The pigtailed boy continued to chuckle. "Now that's something that would scare ya shitless."

Ryoga shot Mousse a questioning glance, who returned a barely perceptible shrug. The remark was so atypical of their arrogant rival that for once, neither had a stinging rebuke on tap and were all but forced to listen.

"heh, heh, heh..." Ranma continued to chortle, oblivious to the pair's staring. "I mean, imagine what she'd do to the other fiancees..."

"Now you're just being weird, Saotome," Ryoga frowned, clearly uneasy with the direction their argument had taken. "You really expect us to just believe that?"

"Don't really matter to me what you believe and what you don't," Ranma shrugged carelessly. "Hell, I've been telling bird brain there for just about forever that I ain't interested in Shampoo either and look where that's--"

"You string my Shampoo along like--!"

ThAP.

Mousse's charging lurch ran face first into Ranma's stationary fist. "Yeah, like I was sayin'. We're friends and that's it. She's been helpin' me out with the curse and..." Two pairs of eyes were suddenly riveted upon his person and he knew right there he had said too much. "And uh... Stuff like that."

"Ranma..." The Lost Boy growled his name, leaning into his space while Mousse was doing likewise from right beside him. "You're not holding out on us, are you?"

"Uh..."

"Because I think I can speak for both of us." Ryoga brandished his hereditary fangs, motioning to Mousse. The Amazonian boy sprouted no less than ten kunai from one sleeve while retaining a long sword in the other sleeve. "We'd have to kill you if you found a cure and kept it for your self."

"Dead." Mousse added, swiping the air left of his person with the sword. It met with a metallic 'chink' and all three turned to the source, a lone fire plug now sporting a razor thin slice across its width. Ranma sighed and Ryoga simply popped his umbrella just as the fire plug's structural integrity fail, sending a ten meter geyser into the air. Rain pattered off the Lost Boy's umbrella instantly and Ranma stood beside him, now female. Bystanders looking upon the unfortunate pair would find it odd that both teens were accompanied by a duck surrounded by various edged weapons. Ranma herself just shook her head at the idiocy.

"Does it look like I got a cure?" Ranma asked with a rhetorical snort as she walked away, leaving the pair to their impromptu shower. "Dumbasses."

Smooth, Ranma. Really, Really smooth, the redhead berated herself for having barely extricated yet another bout of Saotome foot and mouth disease. One of the very last things she needed those two idiots to know about was the fact that she all but had a cure in hand. Sure, she'd think about seeing if Hild could zap the idiots too, but not until she had hers. Morons would screw things up like they always do if I let 'em... Even Pop would probably go off the deep end...

That, and Ryoga had been serious about his threat. The idiot could be downright homicidal when he put his mind to it and Ranma was sure that both Pork for brains and duck boy would lose it if they suddenly found out she was cured. And neither one of them give a damn who gets hurt in the process, she frowned, imagining the all out brawl that the revelation would instigate. She could take Ryoga, and Mousse wasn't anywhere nearly as tough, but both in righteous fury mode would create a lot of property damage before she could take them down. Ranma shook here head, frowning. Gettin' a damn cure ain't supposed to be this hard.

It wasn't until four blocks away and continued introspection that Ranma noticed the staring. Eyes riveted to her person. It took the redhead a moment to realize why she was garnering more attention than she usually did until she passed by her reflection in a shop window. Wet silk. A smile cracked her face, edging out the funk she was in. Yeah, that'd do it, she realized, admiring the form staring back at her. The red top clung to every curve enticingly, each round breast ending at a sharp point that was all but guaranteed to draw the eye. The tangs were still baggy, but they clung as well, randomly applying themselves to her flesh while hugging her hips much lower than they usually would.

The grin on her face grew slightly devious and she turned away from the window, unbuttoning a single button from her top as she did. Ranma's expression dropped into simple pleasantness and continued back down the street. This time her gait was completely different as she maximized her posture and balance, ensuring any eye that fell upon her now would take in everything her swaying body had to offer. Her first target didn't stand a chance. Ranma had played the cute redhead card before with vendors, but this was the first time she had played the redheaded bombshell using Hild's lessons. The theatrics involved in playing silly and cute were completely unnecessary as the vendor willingly offered the diminutive beauty whatever she asked for, most of the time without even asking.

The rest of the block took heavy casualties. Her snacks finished, Ranma continued on her way like some erotic martial arts fairy, delivering unconsciousness and nosebleeds to those she passed. Moreover, she was completely aware of the devastation she caused, reveling in the attention and control she was exerting after what had been a positively shitty start to her day. Sure, her mother was more than likely to kill her on the spot, but her mother wasn't here and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Besides, I'm gonna get cured any day now, she rationalized, smiling easily at a salary man passing her. The man ran straight into a light pole on the spot. Might as well enjoy--

Ranma paused on the sidewalk cocking her head curiously. She now stood before a women's clothing store. While she didn't have any inclination to shop for a body that wouldn't exist in the near future, the pale yellow sundress in the window simply inspired. Last day with Hild, a dress like that and a body count so high that both would remember that day for a long time to come.

"Nice dress."

"Yep," Ranma answered absently, still thinking on just how much fun they'd be having. Still, damned if I can afford it one my own. Maybe that manager chick from Asakusa would let me borrow one from her store...

"It would look good on you."

"Damn right," Ranma nodded, eyes still only on the dress and the plan she was working. Suddenly her world was bathed in a bright red aura and she turned to find a seething Akane Tendo. Ranma's eyes widened. "Uh.. It's... That's not..."

"Then. Why. Don't. You. WEAR IT!" The girl seethed. Ranma was so completely surprised that she failed to even register the fist swing down, accomplishing what Ryoga and Mousse failed to do. Less than a second later, the redhead found herself embedded face first into the concrete sidewalk as the enraged girl stomped off, her world throbbing in pain.

"Owie."

Nor would it be the last time Akane Tendo would inflict bodily harm on Ranma that day. Three girls stared at their fiance hopeful as he was pressed faced down at his mother's own table, a cinder block having been applied to the back of his head with the assistance of physics and gravity. Ukyo Kounji stared at the brick's sudden appearance as well as the smallish pack sloppily tied to it. She glanced at Shampoo and Kodachi, both shrugging their ignorance in why a cinder block would simply fallout of the sky and smite their mutual fiancee. Failing to come up with a reason herself, the Okanomiyaki master pushed the block off Ranma's head.

"Owie."

"You alright, Sugar?" Ukyo asked while untying the bag from its parent mass. Ranma's face remained plastered to the table and she rifled through its contents to find various aticles of clothing. "What the... Laundry?"

"Oh dear." Nodoka Saotome paused, turning to the phone in her debate to call the Tendos. "Akane seems to be late."

"Call it a hunch, but I think she already left." Ranma's voice sounded muffled and he began to peel his face from the table. Shampoo eyed the bump forming on the back of his head as well as his now bruised face.

"Is Macho-girl work, alright."

"Truely," Kodachi nodded. "The peasant girl Tendo has much to learn of her station."

"A shame too," Ranma's mother sighed lightly. "I was hoping to gather all of Ranma's fiancees in one spot for a little chat."

"A talk?" Ranma's head came up as if on a hinge, alarms once more sounding in his brain. "Wait, you invited them here?"

"I figured with Akane stopping by, what better time?" Nodoka rationalized easily and Ranma turned to stare at the girls, who were nodding with smiles. A shaft of disappointed betrayal ran the martial artist through as she continued. "After all, with so many women to satisfy, arrangements will have to be made."

The grins of the other fiancees widened and Ranma knew exactly why. His mother had just legitimatized them as at least being in the running and she was dividing him up like a steak.

The analogy wasn't lost on the martial artist either.

"Of course, all of you have legitimate claims to my son," Nodoka continued inspite of the sinking pit in Ranma's stomach. "Though some tend to be more legitimate than others. Were it not for his unmanly curse, we would settle them all today, however that cannot be the case."

Oh thank God.

"As soon as the condition is lifted, however, I see why there is no reason why cannot press forward with those arrangements at best possible speed, do you agree?" Nodoka considered all three girls, who were nodding enthusiastically now. "Very good then. Now why don't you each tell me a bit about yourselves..."

That was Ranma's cue to leave, slipping out the side door as each girl jockied for his mother's favor, all four females forgetting about him completely while they did so. It was all getting ridiculous and would have been funny if it weren't damn pathetic. He took to the air with a slight hop, finding the roof's edge easily enough and found the spine of the house, walking along it until he came to a good vantage point that overlooked the entire sprawling neighborhood.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't..." The pig tailed boy mumbled, reviewing his options with little more than the slight summer breeze to hear his words.

"Is that right?"

Ranma's head jerked around and he found a yellow skinned blond clad completely in a shiny red leather bodysuit standing over him. She sported two crimson gashes running vertically up her forehead and the boy recognized her instantly, relaxing somewhat. "What's up, Mara?"

"Boss is all ready with the cure if you are," She reported matter-of-factly, then adopted a curious expression. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Heh," Ranma chuckled dryly. "Hiding, I think. You know... I move out of the dojo and that tomboy still is peltin' me with heavy stuff."

Mara cocked here head, then sniffed with amusement. "I think I have to agree with Hild-dono on that one, kid. Why you even put up with her is beyond me."

"Sometimes I... She's..." The pigtailed boy paused, his face scrunching up. "Hell, I don't know. Not like it's any better here."

"You're thinkin' about this way too much," the blonde commented, offering her hand. "Come on. I know the Boss'll be happy to see you."

"A damn sight better than what I got going here," Ranma snorted, taking Mara's Hand and rising to his full height.

"Hold on then," Mara smiled cockily and the pair vanished in flames, rematerializing second later on a side street directly adjacent to a small coffee shop. It took Ranma a moment to reorientate himself, recognizing the surrounding establishments as being located on the outer edge of the prefecture. "She's in the coffee shop. See you around, Saotome. I got stuff do."

The demoness waved and disappeared in a smallish eruption of fire, leaving Ranma alone on the sidewalk. Taking her advice, he ducked into the establishment. Hild's exotic looks stood out immediately and he smiled as she waved him over with a warm smile of her own. Today she was wearing what Ranma had come to know as casual for the woman, a thin black spandex top with obviously no padding and baggy white cargo jeans that looked to hang low on her hips, low enough to advertise the fact that she wore something thin and stringy beneath.

"I trust Mara found you at a good time, Ranma-kun?" Hild questioned pleasantly, tossing her head slightly to throw a few errant strands of her white mane back into place. She took a sip of the latte resting in a thick creme colored mug.

"Couldn't have been better," Ranma snorted with the recollection, prompting the Daimakaichō to arch a curious eyebrow.

"Another one of those days, hmm?"

"Like there's any other," Ranma nodded both sharing amused looks. "Mom's starting a harem for me."

"My, I suppose that's one way to make up for lost time together," The grand demoness returned in an amused tone. "Though most parents tend to overcompensate with money and things..." Her humor held for a moment before it drained from her lavender eyes, as if suddenly realizing something. "This would be in response to her finding out about the curse, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so," Ranma's own spirits withered with the admission. "I mean, I know she was lookin' for me to be manly, but... Let's just say she and the curse ain't gonna get along."

"I see..." Hild replied quietly, considering the matter herself. After a moment, she nodded. "Then let us get down to business. Are you ready?"

Ranma remained silent, staring at the menu behind the coffee counter. The tanned woman tilted her head, but didn't press the question. Something had obviously changed and she would allow the child to think it through to its fullest measure. Another minute passed, and Ranma's attention returned to her.

"I... Nah, not right now if it's okay with you."

Hild blinked, surprised. His unpredictability was one of the things she so loved about the Saotome, but still... This was quite unexpected. "Indeed. And what brought this change of mind into being?"

"Everything, I think," He admitted, rubbing his temples in obvious stress. "The instant my Mom finds out I'm a guy permanently, I'm married. No if's, and's, or but's about it. The second the fiancees find out I'm cured, they'll go nuts. They're already tripping over themselves to get to me and if they find out I'm cured...? I'm screwed."

"Literally," Hild added dryly, to whcih Ranma nodded. "You know, many males in your position would have taken advantage of the situation several times over by now."

"And then they would have been sold into Amazon slavery, put to work behind an Okanomiyaki counter or drugged up for who knows what the moment they let their guard down." Ranma shook his head, having already visited all the potential scenarios well before now. "And that's not even counting my rivals. Ryoga and Mousse are already on the edge. They find out I got cured and they didn't and they'd probably snap. I'd probably have to put 'em both in the hospital or worse to stop em, too."

"My vote would be for 'or worse' but that's besides the point," Hild frowned, taking a sip from her mug. "I must admit, it doesn't please me to know that you are letting others dictate you life, Ranma-kun."

"I'm buyin' time." Ranma admitted, fully aware of the tactical implications. "I get this cure now and it all falls apart. I can see from here and it'll explode. Mom may not like it, but it'll keep her and the others at bay until I can find a way out of it."

Hild nodded, understanding, but still maintaining a neutral expression. Somebody she cares about was suffering and much as she wanted to remove that suffering, she was the Grand Demoness of hell, bound by rules and restrictions. Simply plucking annoyances from the lives of her friends was a no-no, though she had become quite expert at indirectly eliminating problems. Nabiki Tendo was one such example of that. That, and Ranma Saotome had his pride, something she knew all too well. If he was to deal with it himself, she would not stop him... but she would offer advise.

"As a friendly warning from one good friend to another," She remarked casually, attempting to keep her tone as light as possible. "There may come a day when there are no good choices left. You are buying time in the hope a more opportune position will avail itself to you. While I understand the tactic well, it may also be a futile gesture. Hope for the best, but plan for the worst."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," Ranma sighed heavily now. "Cuz the worst I can think of is pretty damn bad."

"Then perhaps an alternative is in order," She smiled, her mood lightening. "A partial cure."

Ranma's solemn mood was broken abruptly with the words. "Partial?"

"Something to at least alleviate the annoyance of the curse's random nature." She elaborated, tapping the points into the table with her finger. "Yes. I shall give you back something your life so desperately lacks, Ranma-kun... Control."

Control. The word resonated within the martial artist enticingly. Through his female aspect, it was positively addicting given its total absence in his life. "And... How's that?"

"Control over your curse." Hild smiled. Ranma blinked. "You wish to be a man, so be it. You wish to spend the day as a woman, it shall be so."

"I..." The boy was stunned by the implications.

"Though I must admit to my own selfish motives," She added as an after thought. "Still, it would be at least the first step to living your life on your own terms."

"I, um... It's..." Ranma stumbled through the jumble of thoughts. Hild wasn't the only one with a selfish motive and control was probably the most ideal solution to this particular dillemma he could think of. In fact, control was half the reason the curse was such a pain in the ass to begin with, but... "Still ain't gonna work."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Water's gonna get me some time," Ranma rationalized with a frown. "One of those times I'm gonna forget I should be changin' with it and I'm back to the doomsday scenario."

"Is that all, child?" Hild simply smiled, her laughter jingling against his ears only served to confuse the Saotome further. She snapped her fingers. "Done. You now have complete control over the curse, though I have left the water trigger intact. All that is required to override it is concentration."

Ranma boggled at her now. "You're... You're kidding."

"Often, but not today," She grinned, delighting in his incredulity. "Concentrate on the form you desire and it shall be done. An elegant solution if I do say so myself."

"I..." Ranma closed his mouth, and took her advise. He formed the mental image and busty redhead melted into place, his voice raising several octaves with the the transformation. "Wow... Oh, wow!"

"I thought you would like that," Hild chuckled, watching Ranma shift from boy to girl and back again. "Now lets go have some real fun."

Author's notes;
Uploading this somewhere in the vicinity of 3am, so I'll be brief on this. First, thanks for waiting and for those of you who thought this fic was dead, ha. HA! IN YOUR FACE! It just doesn't share the same priority as some of the others, but it is alive and well, so I hope you enjoyed it. Normally i would put an extended ANs section here for names and other stuff, but I'm a sleepy Ozz, so anything you have a question on can probably be found on google. Yes, even obscure references such as just who the hell is Oscar Saint Just. For further reference as to this chapter's time frame, reference Book 36. About the only thing you might have a question on is "Daimakaichoko" roughly equating to "Little Daimakaichō". Thanks to MageOhki for that innovation.

As always, thanks to the DCG, the TFF crew, DT, Amy, Mark and maybe some other people my sleepy brain forgot. This is also my first fic composed on Google Docs and it seems to be working out fairly well. Certainly makes transport between work and home, as well as collaboration tons easier. Most of the editing was my responsibility, so aim that fail squarely at me ;)