Poisoned Honor

A RANMA 1/2 FAN FICTION

BY WILLIAM O'HALLORAN

AKA Nuki Mouse

Authors notes: This is a story based on characters owned and copy righted by Takahashi Rumiko and VIZ Communications. I wrote this story for entertainment purposes only and have not received any money for it, nor will I attempt to.

Encloses the thoughts of the character.

" " Enclose the spoken words of a character.

* See Authors notes at end of chapter for definition

Chapter Eight: Early Evening Reflections and Remembrances

"Oh my..." Kasumi finally managed to say. "But Ranma just wouldn't let... that happen!" She couldn't think of anything more dreadful that could happen to Ranma, or anyone else, than rape. "Elder, are you sure? Ranma... well, he's RANMA! Male or female he just... wouldn't," Kasumi said, her hands clenched together over her heart, eyes wide open in fear as she implored Cologne to deny Ranma's probable fate. I just can't think of anything worse....

Cologne could only slowly shake her head in sorrow as her next words proved that whenever Ranma is involved; things could always get worst. "As long as this drug mixture is in Ranma's system, potential rape isn't the only torture he maybe suffering," Cologne had to confess. "He also has other drugs in him, the Martyr's Blood being the wor..." she started to explain.

"Chouso!" Ono Toufu exclaimed loudly cutting off Cologne's admission. He gently wrapped a confronting arm around Kasumi's waist, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. Knowing how his gentle Kasumi might react to this next jolt, as he instantly assumed he knew what "torture" Cologne was referring to. "If he, umn... she is raped, then she might be, no, would be impregnated!" Ono quietly stated.

The word "...Impregnated..." seemed to send a cold chill though the Tendo home. Nabiki felt her knees beginning to shake, and not just due to her effort in resisting the pain and weakness from the shiatsu points. "Pregnant, well isn't that just a kick in the teeth." She softly said, almost too faint to hear by the others. For a moment, Nabiki swore she saw a look of surprise momentarily grace the face of the old Amazon, but realize it was probably just gas.

"Pregnant..." Kasumi echoed, also in a near whisper. "Oh my!"

"Pregnant?" Cologne repeated, making it sound like a question to herself. "Why, yes, I guess she would be, at that." Cologne acknowledged, inwardly surprised she didn't think of that herself. "But it's Ranma emotional and mental condition I'm most worried about right now." Cologne gripped her staff tightly, suddenly needing it's support, as she felt sicken by the day's events, caused in no small part by her own arrogance and pride. "Remember Nodoka's... um... concerns," Cologne said, referring to the earlier phone call. "About the missing tanto, and possibly... suicide."

As Ono feared, Kasumi's face blanched white, her eyes tearing up, and she started to tremble uncontrollably. Ono gathered her tightly into his chest, exchanging his comforting shoulder for a full blown protective embrace and felt the empathic bond kicked in full strength. He could 'see' the memories inside her mind, from earlier in the day. I told him, no I ordered him to leave and never come back! and 'sensed' the guilt and shame that tinged Kasumi's thoughts. I knew the most important and valuable thing Ranma had was his honor. I threaten to tell Nodoka about him..., to impeach his honor, to destroy it, even if it meant his death and I did want to. I wanted to hurt him, like he hurt my sister.... And Ono could "hear" via their bond, Ranma-chan's reply "I know what needs to be done, I will do the right thing!" And he could 'see' that Kasumi believed 'I will do the right thing' really meant 'the honorable thing' and seppuku.

Nabiki broke the gloomy quiet that filled the Tendo home with a cool, dignified response befitting the 'Ice Queen'. "WHAT IN THE HELL ARE WE JUST STANDING HERE FOR? WE must go and find Ranma... RIGHT NOW!" As she realized with guilt her own part in bringing about this crisis. I all but told him to go kill himself! Nabiki remembered. As well as wished him dead, ...and raped! as her heart ached for her missing 'brother'.

Nabiki didn't realized it yet but her attitude towards Ranma had changed, forever. Almost before her yell had finished echoing through the Tendo house, the search for Ranma finally began in earnest. It was quickly decided that Ono would search for Ranma on the ground, while Cologne would take to the roof tops, and both would head east in the general direction of Nodoka's house. Kasumi wanted to join them, but knew she would just slow them down Besides, someone had to watch over the two sleeping girls upstairs, there's always the chance Ranma may return on his own, and there are dirty dishes in the sink, Kasumi decided.

Armed with cell phones, (No, not provided by Nabiki, they each had their own with them, thank you.) and sandwiches, (Yes, these were provided by Kasumi, which they quickly ate, ravenously, thank you.) they struck out, trying to cover as much of the area in the shortest time possible.

Nabiki had also decided to stay behind at the Tendo home, but not to watch over the "sleeping beauties," but to conduct her own type and style of search. She beat a fast retreat to the sanctuary of her bedroom, her own private phone line, and her own pillow to cry on. Within minutes, she had made a few discrete calls and several of her most trusted "associates" set out on 'Project Report Ranma' under the strictest orders to find Ranma, but not to approach or even be seen, and not to tell anyone else. They quickly fanned out in teams of two or more (another 'order' from Nabiki) across Nerima, doing the leg work for her, spurred on by the extravagant (for Nabiki) reward offered to the first to find and report Ranma's (or Ranma-chan's) location.

* * * * * * * * *

Wh… What? Un… Who? ...Am I? The battered girl wondered as consciousness returned. She tried to open her eyes but only saw a black nothingness. Her mind was neither full nor empty, but more of a confused jumble of individual snippets of memories thrown together in a hodgepodge of incoherent thoughts, like a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle with all the important pieces missing and no picture to guide the assembly. Her first awareness of her body was of an intense throbbing pain centered up on her right temple and a pounding in her head like that of a sledgehammer breaking concrete, matching the beat of her heart.

Given the remnants in her body of Shampoo's potions, the concussion from the sake bottle applied to her forehead, and the stark horror, terror, and mental anguish of her recent attack, it was understandable that her brain was not firing on all 8 cylinders at the moment. She tried to recall her name, it seemed to be so simple a task, it hovered right on the edge of her memory, the tip of her tongue, but it just wouldn't come.

She fought to gain some resemblance of order to her thoughts as her subconscious, none too pleased with the male gender at the moment, rebelled against her, forcing it's own new fears and desires on her. This, along with her current "apparent" sex, had, at least temporarily, metamorphed her whole persona into something new, something not longer male, as it tried to grasp some logic to her thoughts. My name is Ran… Ran…? Ranko? finally coalesced into her thoughts.

Ranko tried to open her eyes again. She was lying on her left side, curled up in a fetal position. A cool breeze blew over her body, sending a wave of shivers and goose bumps up her legs and spine, along with a sudden sensation of pain. She was in agony, head to foot, as sore as if she just been fed through a meat grinder. Even her teeth ached.

Ranko tried to raise her hand, but her whole arm felt as if it was made of lead. Slowly Ranma slid her arm off her side and raised her hand to her face. She that gingerly explored the painful knot on her temple and could feel a damp stickiness in her hair. Her eyes seemed to be unfocused, and the space around her was almost totally dark, and filled with even darker, pitch black shadows. She repeatedly tried to flex and unfold her stiffen limbs, only have an intense sharp pain shoot up her side from her bruised kidney, followed by a dull ache in her groin area that increased tenfold whenever she move her legs.

The putrid odor of the place filled her nostrils with the reek of urine, alcohol, dead fish and... something 'else'? She felt around herself, her fingers feeling the cool damp earthen floor around her, finding by feel the broken fragments of glass and the smooth soft feel of the cotton clothes strewn about where she laid. Ranko suddenly realized that she was nude but somehow that did not seem to really matter to her very much at the moment.

... What happened...? Did I lose a fight...? was the next loosely coherent thoughts, other than that of pain, to enter into her dazed confused brain. She tried to concentrate, to pierce the clouded fog that filled her mind, only to still recall just a confused jumble of inconsistent memories of the the day's events, ending with the ones of her running for her life and... honor? down a long cave towards the light at the far end and the safety it embodied, while three sinister, shadowy Oni's chased after her and... caught her? She shook her head as she tried to remember more, but her mind, for now, refused to let her return to the memories of her attackers and their actions.

Where am I? Is this the... That cave? Ranko finally wondered as she tried to take in more of her surroundings. She could "feel" the walls and roof of the cave pressing down upon her, trapping her, seeming to smothering her. The "cave" was filled with a strange, menacing, but yet somehow familiar sound, like the low pitch growls of a pack of monstrous animals, combined with the rumble of thunder. A sudden double "bleep bleep" of what could only be a car's horn echoed up and down the strange "cave" and the thought "highway underpass" seeped into her memory. She then noticed the source of the dim light filtering through from the outside world, the end of the cave, and what looked like a brighter source of light.

Ranko's breath came in short, quick pants, as she tried to suppress the pain that filled her, along with a sudden horrendous fear evoked by the dark space and of the shadows that surrounded her. They seemed to swirl around her, closing in, squeezing, crushing, smothering her as she laid there. In her mind's eye the shadows were filled with horrifying oni's that seem to stare and laugh mockingly at her from their hiding places inside the impenetrable blackness waiting a chance to pounce on her again, as all the primordial terrors evoked by her attack welled up from deep within her sub consciousness mind.

Ranko force herself to her feet, clutching her clothes in her hands, as fear of the cave underpass?, the dark, and the shadows around her, filled her with a terror unlike any she has ever known before, even the dreaded Neko-ken. A... light? The... light? was the only thought to pierce the terror, it seemed a drawl her, like a moth on to a flame. If I can get to the light, I'll be safe... ran over and over through her mind, as Ranko staggered out from under the roadway into the fading light of dusk.

Ranko slowly raised her head up and briefly watched as the headlights of the commuters sped passed on Tokyo Highway 5, heading for the outer prefects at the end of a long day. But to her mind's eye they were not cars but giant monsters, *...ba-bakenekos...!, with glowing bright yellow eyes, searching for her, and to her ears the growl of their engines was heard as the snarl of giant hunting cats.

Behind her was the enormous maw of the cave. It's inky darkness ready to swallow her up, concealing a hoard of oni's, ready to attack her. Ahead was the light of the setting sun, still illuminating the sky to the west, and something in her said "that way" and she ran towards the light, along the canal's edge, chased by all the monsters from within.

* * * * * * * * *

Nodoka shook her head and could not help but smile at the crazy humorous thought that that had instilled itself into her mind. Ranko and Ranma, Ranko as Ranma! ran thought her thoughts again as a quiet "Tee hee hee..." slipped out, only to grow into a full blown belly laugh, that lasted several minutes or more, nonstop.

What's wrong with me? mee... tee he... Nodoka mentally demanded, as she tried to compose herself and gasp in more air, replacing that expelled during her attack of uncontrollable laughter. That poor girl is out there in who knows what trouble and all I can do is think of absurd notions and laugh at them, she chastised herself as she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes.

After a moment of gasping for air, punctuated by small bouts of giggles, Nodoka stood bolt upright, clenched her mouth tightly shut and held her arms firmly down her sides and by sheer willpower alone, suppressed the last bit of her laughter. I can't believed I would just laugh like that, Nodoka thought, although at the same time she realized that it was a common emotional response to overwrought nerves. The old "laughing in the face of danger" adage, she acknowledged.

...In the face of danger... reverberated itself in Nodoka's mind as she realized That's it, that is what has me so nervous and upset. That it was the plight of Ranko, out there alone, looking and acting like she did, that was the source of the emotional roller coaster that was effecting Nodoka.

Nodoka scarcely knew Ranko, but her impressions were of a nice, but tough, self reliant girl, just a little too crude and tomboyish for her taste, and a martial artist par-excellant, equal only by her own son, if the rumors held true.

That was not the girl who she saw earlier, that Ranko was a deeply troubled, suicidal (with a sudden chill, she remembered the missing tanto) girl that looked,... well,... like hell warmed over. She remembered the strange look of longing in Ranko's eyes and that awoke in her a protectiveness, a yearning she never lost, for a daughter of her own.

The thought I must do something... rang once again in Nodoka's mind. But I did call Tendo Kasumi, what else can I do? she asked herself. This was a rhetorical question, she already knew what she had to do, not because Ranko might be a "cousin" or maybe even a half sister, nor because of some absurd fantasy that she's really her son, or as a motherless girl she wished could be her own daughter, but as a true martial artist, whom this girl came to in her time of need, and it was her duty to help and protect her.

Nodoka quickly donned her long outer kimono and retrieved her katana before leaving her home, wrapping it like always in a spare silken sash, lest it draw too much attention. Friends had long kidded about her custom of constantly carrying the sword, but as a master of both kendo and her family's own secret sword style, she felt naked without it, and carried it always.

Who knows... I may have a use for it, she thought, recalling Ranko's apparent distress and the recent increased police reports of juvenal delinquents and petty criminals in the area. Nodoka's sword hand unconsciously gripped the katana's pummel, as she mentally brandished her blade in defense of young maidens everywhere, and quickly walked towards the nearest subway entrance and the train to Nerima.

* * * * * * * *

Ranko, still clutching the remains of her kimono and haori, ran like all the demons of hell were chasing her, and to her mind, they were. Along the canal she ran, only leaving it's edge to traverse the streets when a bridge up loomed menacingly ahead. To locals and passersby that glimpsed her speeding form, she resembled more a feral animal than a naked girl.

Finally pain and exhaustion slowed her as yet another bridge appeared. This one was smaller, more graceful, meant more for pedestrians and bicycles than for cars and buses, but this bridge did not frighten the girl like the others did. As her fear receded, the pains in her body increased many-fold, and a wave of dizziness and nausea threaten to overwhelm her, making it all but imposable to run or even move.

She stopped on the far side of the bridge, were the last gleaming of sunset kept the shadows at bay, the spot seemed strangely familiar and a feeling of deja vu filled her. I... I've been here before... she somehow recalled, before all but collapsing against the bridge's stonework, hidden from the walkway above. Off to her right was the flat dark ribbon of water that marked the canal's location. Although fading fast, there was just enough light left for Ranko to examine herself more closely.

She could see streaks of blood, mixed with mud, and something "else," running down her lower legs from a multitude of small cuts on her legs and backside, caused no doubt by all the broken glass and other debris that littered the floor of the underpass. Her eyes darted pass her midsection and groin to examine her sore, throbbing hands.

As she tried to hold her hands up before her eyes, her right shoulder felt like it was on fire and she could barely hold the hand up. Her fingers were bruised and swollen and she found her hands would neither open fully nor close into a tight fist. The attempt to due so only caused her knuckles to throb and she realized in an almost absentminded manner that some of her knuckles might be broken.

She lowered her hands and continued her self-exam in a detached clinical manner, almost as if it was another's body and not her own.

Arms: bruises along both forearms, elbows scraped raw and deep cut on left upper arm. Right upper arm and shoulder; black and blue, Ranko noted. Her memory seem to recall such damage to her hands and arms as "defensive wounds." but defense against what? she wondered. Ranko tried to fully extend and rotate her right arm, but not only was her bruised shoulder stiffening up, she felt a sharp pain lance though her upper chest to her neck and knew her collar bone was cracked, if not broken.

Torso; right side- dark purple bruise a hand's span across near kidney. Center, soreness around abdomen- possible bruising below rib cage. Left side just some minor cuts, Ranko noted the last with some slight relief, as a sign she wasn't totally "trashed." She tried to take in a deep breath and her abdomen felt like it had just finished doubling as well used punching bag in a boxing gym.

Her diaphragm felt like it was on fire and it suddenly contracted in a uncontrollable spasm, forcefully expelling the air from her lungs. Ranko gasped and tried to draw in a fresh breath, but was stopped by a ripple of pain across her ribs followed by a strange grating sensation and another bout of nausea that spoke of cracked and broken ribs.

Her breasts, which Ranko had always been secretly proud of, felt like they had been crushed and squeezed like two grapefruits in a juicer. She saw that several round raspberry red colored marks adorned each, some including a deep series of cuts or marks surrounding them. The words "Hickies" and "Love Bites" popped into Ranko's head, though the cause or reason for their presence on her body still eluded her.

All the while, during this "inspection" of her body, Ranko had sub-consciously avoided looking at her upper legs and groin area. The horror and knowledge of what she might find there was just too incomprehensible for her to even to grasp or acknowledge at that moment. She did not see the blood stains, mixed with other "fluids," that weren't predominantly from her external cuts and bruises, nor did she the heavy bruising on her inner thigh areas or maidenhood. Her mind was blanking out the truth of her attack, even though the evidence was all but overwhelming.

Ranko glanced over at the canal, it's smooth inky black surface rippled and burbled as it flowed past, seeming to beckon to her. The cool refreshing look of the water, the quiet sound of its flow, inviting, so soothing, like a siren's call, begging her to enter and let it carry her pains and troubles away. She slowly crept her way to the canal's edge and tried to kneel next to the dark waters, but collapsed like a limp rag doll instead. Forcing herself into a more or less seated position, she leaned over the water, the last of the twilight turned the surface into a mirror and a hideous caricature of her face greeted her.

Both Ranko's beautiful royal blue-violet eyes, reminiscent of morning glories, were bloodshot, blackening, and swollen, the right, already a deep purple-black, was swollen almost shut and starting to impair her vision. Her lips, that formally made that perfect natural "Rosebud" look so desired by actresses and models worldwide, had swelled up as if stung by a dozen bees, and both were split and bleeding. At first her cute little nose seemed was strangely untouched, but a second look told her it was red, swollen, and 'bent' as well, that it just wasn't as noticeable, due to the severity of the rest of her injured features.

The right side of her face was covered in blood, the skin no longer a smooth creamy white, but scraped and raw. A deep ragged laceration ran from the massive knot on her right temple, down pass her eye and then across her face and towards her mouth, left no doubt by the sake bottle as it shattered on impact. A second wound, caused by some jagged piece of metal, cut across her cheek, intersecting the first, making an crisscross on her face.

Her left side was basically un-marred, but that just further accentuated the ghoulish look of her right side of her face. Her hair, normally a long luxurious deep ruby red when unbound, was now a dirty rusty brown and caked with earth, mud, and other "stuff," that hung limply around her face and neck like a mass of tangled buckwheat noodles. She gingerly felt a strangely bare spot on the right side of her head and tears weld up in her eyes as her hand felt just stubble. Th-e-e-ey... "sniff..." th-the...y..., ...IT cut my... hair?

I look like a gargoyle, Ranko thought as the threaten tears started to flow, stinging her injuries as they ran down her face. Although Ranma would never admit it, "he" had been always secretly proud of his looks, both as a male and a female. He figured that if he was cursed to have a part-time female body, it was only due justice that it came with the prettiest face and best bod in all of Tokyo. This idea and self image of herself, so very feminine in nature, had managed to permeated through to Ranko, although she still could not recall her true persona, she could still remember and mourn the lost of her beauty.

* * * * * * * * *

"Bweeeeeeppp weeeepp weepp..." echoed up and down the street as a small black piglet ran helter-skelter all over the area. No sooner would it seem to disappear down one street, heading east, than it would appear dashing back along another, from the west. This was all in an impossibly short period of time, almost as if it somehow warped there.

It seemed to be searching for someone or somewhere, at least, darting to and fro, obviously scared and panicked about something. In it's blind hurry, it careened into a local eating establishment, right in the middle of the evening dinner rush. Cries of; "What the he..!", "look out!", "Damn it, what was that!", and "Its a RAT!", followed by "Pig! Pig!", and "Here piggy-piggy. want some pork?" rang out, accented by the sounds of sliding chairs and scuffling feet as a sizable portion of the patrons abandoned their meal and the restaurant.

Inside Ryuoga's little pig mind, his thoughts were as frantic as his legs. I got to find Akane! I got to get help!, Ranma... He's... She's suicidal! I must help him, ur... her! The Dojo, where's the Dojo? ran over and over through his mind. He abruptly stopped short as he collided with a steel "wall" that suddenly "appeared" before him, as if by magic.

"Beeweehep" Ouch, that hurt! Ryouga said, as he fell back on his haunches and shook his little black head. Sniffff, sniff-sniff? he drew in the odors of the place. He spun around, eyes going even wider in fear, as he knew where he must be. Sure enough, he found himself in a restaurant, and one that served... pork...! Being a walking diner entrée in an area of the world with no compulsion against eating bacon, ham, hocks, pork loin... Yeechh.. had made Ryouga a little sensitive about the subject, and as his stomach heaved..., he heard a familiar soprano voice. "I guess there's going to be a pork okonomiyaki special on the menu tomorrow, Ryouga sugar!" as he made his move for the front door.

"BWE BWE BWE BW-OT HOT HOT HOT...!" Ryouga yelled as boiling hot water cascaded over him as he darted out the 'front' door and found himself in Ukyo's storeroom instead. The sight of a large spatula flying through the air, almost decapitating a wayward piglet, then the same said piglet transforming into a young man, a NAKED young man at that, when the irate cook drench it with a pot of boiling water. The same said young man had ran (still nude!) across the restaurant and was now holed up in the storeroom. Needless to say, this started another stampede towards the real front door, as the pretty young waitress in the silk kimono, "manning" the cash register, assured the customers it won't happen again, although many claimed they would never return.

Ukyo had single-mindedly retrieved the spatula and was using the flat of it to bang quite loudly on the storeroom door. Her tirade against pigs, boys, martial artists (excluding the masters of the "Short Order Cook / okonomiyaki variation" school), and mentally deficient, directionally challenged morons, proved she must of spent some of her years "training" running a food stand for longshoremen. Realizing that Ryouga was not very likely to open the door with her banging on it or informing him of his probable ancestries, she backed off to stare, angrily and quietly, at the door.

Konatsu quietly watched from his position guarding the front door. Under his kimono, he was armed with all the various weaponry, both subtle and deadly, expected of a modern ninja. He knew his Ukyo would not wish for aide in her current "discussion" with Ryouga, but if needs be, he could be there, backing her up, in micro-seconds. As he could see, Ukyou did not have long to wait before the door sprang open and a fully clothed Ryouga leapt out.

I know every inch of that storeroom! Just where does he stash his clothes? Konatsu pondered one of the great unanswered questions in the universe. After a couple of preliminary rounds, which consisted of mainly Ryouga dodging various kitchen utensils, while trying to tell Ukyo something about Ranma, rape, drugs, and Akane. Meanwhile, after Ukyo further informed him of some of his more unusual sexual practices, and just how much he owed her for driving away her diner crowd, and the lost customers, things seem to calm down slightly.

The mood however, as far as Konatsu could tell, had turned more ominous, as both antagonist were now quietly discussing something, and what ever that "something" was, it was turning the merely angry Ukyo furious! Ryouga finally finished with one last word and although Konatsu could not hear it, he could see Ryouga mouth the name "Shampoo." With that, Ryouga again headed for the door, this time helped along by a none too gentle shove by Ukyo, before she disappeared into the back room.

As Ryouga stumbled outside, he brandished his umbrella before him, and in a strange parody of his normal battle cry, Konatsu heard him yell "RANMA!, I WILL HELP YOU!", before heading off in the general direction of Osaka. A moment later, Ukyo emerged, clad in her blue battle outfit, bandoleers of mini-spatula's across her chest, bags of flour laced with various noxious substances on her belt, her "Big Bertha" model main battle spatula across her back, and a white bow in her hair for that feminine touch. Oh shit! Konatsu thought, she means business!

"Come, Konatsu!" Ukyo commanded. "We must find Ranma-honey, he's in trouble!" She stated, then continued grim faced, "Then we hunt big game! The soon to be extinct purple pointed Himalayan!" as two more joined the search for Ranma.

* * * * * * * * *

The object of their search was at this moment still staring at the ghoulish reflection of her battered face and body in the black waters of the canal. Ranko, whether by instinct or fate, had made her way back to Nerima and the very same small bridge that loamed so importantly in her fragmented memories.

I feel... dirty, ...soiled... filthy, Ranko's psyche cried out in mental anguish, and she vainly tried to wash the worst of the filth her face, hands, and hair. A noise that was part sob, part hiss, and part cry of pain emerged from Ranko's mouth as the wet canal water stung and irritated her injuries, like alcohol on a paper cut. After several moments of reeling and thrashing in agony, she found herself staring back down at the water as her reflection reformed.

"I'll never be pretty again, ...I'll never be clean again..." she whispered aloud to herself, her voice hoarse, rough, and rasping as it forced its way though her bruised throat, swollen tongue and cracked lips, as she fought to hold back the tears that threaten to overwhelm her at the harsh sound of her own voice.

Ranko rested her weary body as she just laid still at the canal edge, trying to make sense of the emotional and psychic turmoil clouding her mind. The effects of the drugs were lessening and slowly more and more of the confused pieces of memories began to fall back in place. Ranko suddenly realized why this bridge seem so familiar, it was the bridge, were she first realized how cute...? How cute... A-A... Akaneee was?

As she recalled the name of her beloved fiancee, other, unbidden memories also emerged, and as each piece fell in place, a dozen more burst forth. But rather beneficial or calming effect, they threaten her very sanity, as she felt anew each pain, grief, and remorse they brought with them, and her already damaged psyche could not take much more.

As her tears began to flow once more, the sudden thought Real men don't cry jump unbidden from the depths of her consciousness and her mind rebelled at its implication. Her brain went numb and tried to shut down in a last ditch attempt to deny it's true self, still unwilling to identify itself as even part male anymore, after the days events. But the sheer stubbornness of Ranma's true persona won partway through and "Ranko" remembered that she was really Ranma-chan, but still thought herself to be totally female.

As Ranma-chan became more aware of her true name and self, (but not her 'true' sex) all the remnants of her emotional control abandon her. The negative waves of emotions, of despair, depression, and remorse, were almost unknown to the normally optimistic, over confident, super-ego of Ranma, and she found herself totally unable to contain them.

She next did something Ranma-chan thought she never would do. She cried like a new born babe, harder and deeper than she ever cried before. She cried at her pain, her injures, and at the vague memories of her attack. She cried the tears that she had saved up from years of loneliness, of lost friends and lost childhood, and a home and mother she could not even remember, save in her dreams.

She balled her eyes out, shedding the tears that the "manly" Ranma-chan had always trapped deep within, least she act "un-manly" and earn the wrath of Genma. Ranma-chan could not recall for the life of her, why it was so important for a girl to be "manly," but it was. She was as near a full emotional collapse as it was humanly possible and her very sanity itself was starting to slip, as her sub-conscious still tried to suppress the reality of the days events along with her true sex.

She trembled, her body shaking uncontrollably from the intensity of the sobs and emotional release, and this was in turn causing more pain to wrack her abused body. The pain, rather than being a bad thing, acted as a cathartic, as it cut though her emotional distress, giving her an anchor to help her regain a resemblance of mental stability and control, however slight. It gave her a lifeline back from the edge of insanity and further helped to further dispel the mental fog that still plagued her memories.

I... ra-raped Akane? She seemed to recall her memories of the morning, of foundling and "humping" against Akane. But how? I love... love Akane? How could I do... that? She asked in confusion But I'ma... I'ma GIRL! her mind was still telling her, further confusing her. I love her, I just wanted to show her... to make love to her... Ranma-chan forced herself to relive her attack of Akane. She h-ha-hates me..., I'm....I'm a rapist. She wished I was never born... she concluded, for the second time that day.

Ranma-chan sudden grabbed up her kimono, and was relieved to find the tanto was still hidden away with in it. I'ma rapist, a failure, I can't trust myself And she knew that their was only one recourse, the same one she had been preparing for all day. Ranma-chan slowly and quite painfully, manage to don the kimono, suddenly self-conscious of her nudity.

I must look... proper, not like a..., like a... fallen woman. She painfully assumed a kneeling position facing the water. She tried a minor calming exercise, to help ready herself for the thrust and was mildly surprised to feel her chi responding once again.

She knelt there silently, quietly, as she prepared herself for the task at hand. She mentally said her goodbyes and asked forgiveness to those she had let down and failed, hoping that if there was a afterlife, she would be able to make amends for her life and actions while in this one. One, two, five, then ten minutes passed, as she just knelt and stared at the water. Finally she was ready and it was time, and she slowly pulled out the knife.

* * * * * * * *

Where Am I thought the rorouni Kami to himself, as he slowly opened up to the temporal and spiritual energies of the area

This is Nerima? The guardian spirit realized, village of his birth, centuries before, now just a small part of a great city, a Tokyo so different from any place he knew in life. He didn't know what had brought him here, just an overwhelming compulsion that he had to answer. As he floated over the town, the force that drew him seem to come from below, near the bridge over the small river or canal. There huddled in the shadows was a small red hair boy, --no GIRL?

This is strange, almost unheard of thought the Kami. He was a Guardian, a Kami promoted from the ranks of samuri, after dying a needless death defending his master's honor. Now 'he' was a clan protector and normally should not answer a call from a mere "female", but only a clan head or great warrior. Yet it was this 'female' that drew him. As he floated above her, he was shocked by her? Chi aura. Not only was it the strongest he had ever seen, it was the very duality of it that made the chi so strong. It was both male and female at once, although the stronger aspect of her chi seemed definitely male.

He watched the figure as she steeled herself and slowly drew a tanto from it's scabbard. The razor sharp knife silently slid out with only the whisper of a metallic 'ping'. As a samuri in life and now a Guardian Kami in death, he had witnessed (and seconded) many acts of honor and atonement, buthe knew that this act of seppuku was totally needless. He was being given a chance to redeem his own needless death by preventing another.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ranma gripped the knife with both hands, forcing her bruised fingers closed around tanto, blade reverse and inverted, and placed the point at the base of her torso, mere inches above her groin. The razor sharp edge instantly pierce the thin fabric and a new bright red strain appeared, spreading out from where the tanto's point rested against her abdomen. She tried to draw in as deep a breath her ribs would allow, as she ready herself for the convulsive thrust. I must do this right, I can't fail again

"Hold your blade" A strange voice seem to command from above her. "Child, what could be so terrible that you want to end your life like this?" The voice inquired.

Ranma whole body jerked in shock and surprise at voice almost triggering her keyed up muscles to thrust, but the power of command inherit in it instantly caused her to loosen her grip on the tanto and the blade point cut a deep new gash as it slipped away from her torso. She lifted her head and there, floating over the water was an phantom, in the form of a man, dressed in robes from ages long past, outlined in yellow-green foxfire. She reacted the way any half crazed, suicidal, male terrified, violent female rape victim, would, if suddenly confronted by a very masculine specter floating just above them.

Ranma knew, from deep down in her terror filled subconscious, that one of oni's from the cave had tracked her down. The quick thought a kobe-shimi* was all that registered in her crazed filled mind, as she gave voice to the loudest, most highest pitched shriek of pure feminine terror ever heard in Nerima or any of its nearby neighbors.

It lasted a full 20 seconds and then some, as it echoed and reverberated across the ward, and all who heard it felt their blood run cold and their hearts skip a beat and more than one normally brave soul retreated to the sanctuary of their beds and the protection of their covers. All those close enough to the small foot bridge to receive its full impact would forever swear that they had overheard the victim of murder most foul or the cry of uttermost despair, surpassing even that of Westley's.*

The Kami was instantly blasted by the sheer strength and force of the girl's scream, both physical and psychic, as the piercing shriek was laced with the power of her fear crazed chi, and drove the spirit back. When he managed to look back down at the girl again, he was just in time to see her eyes roll back, until only the whites showed, and her body pitch forward as she landed face first in the canal, out cold, her legs and right side on the bank and her head and left side in the water. Well, at least I stopped her suicide The Kami noted. Now if she doesn't drown first... as he observed several of the local inhabitants nearby, as they franticly searched for the source of the wretched cry.

End chapter eight.

Author's notes:

1) Bakenekos; A demon in the form of a monstrous cat. Has been know to possess humans. Also believed to be able to take human form (usually a woman) to deceive it's victims, then eat them.

2) Kobe-shimi; A male demon, a VERY male demon, need I say more?

3) Westley; Don't tell me there is actually someone reading this that DID NOT see the "Princess Bride"?