Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the property of Rumiko Takahashi and all associated licensers. The King of Fighters and it associated series are the property of SNK-Playmore and all associated licensers. This is not a work for profit. I claim no rights to the characters. This is a work of fiction.

Continuity for Ranma is mostly derived from the manga, with some of the anime sprinkled in for good measure. Continuity for the King of Fighters is a modified form of the current story, how that is should be explained in story, but I am willing to explain for those with further questions.

Enjoy!

Chapter 18

"It ends with this! The Kyokugen School Succession Technique: Ryuuko Ranbu!"

Marco could feel his body breaking under the strain of trying to control the tremendous power within him. He had to do this quickly, before he lost control of himself. Seeing that Ryoga's guard was lowered, he burst forth with a speed that exceeded anything he had ever previously achieved. His mind let itself succumb to his senses, picking out the weakest spots on his opponent and relentlessly hammering them with blow after blow. It happened so fast, that to an observer it would appear that it was not one man performing the attack but a dozen.

This was the Ryuuko Ranbu, the Jubilant Dance of Dragon and Tiger. A long chain of varied strikes masterfully strung together by the user's natural instincts and fueled by ki drawn from the Earth. Takuma Sakazaki had invented this technique as a young man, and only taught it to those disciples who had reached the rank of black belt in his school.

Marco had spent months studying footage of Ryo using the move in battle in order to gain a better understanding of it. He had originally done it out of curiosity, as by that point he had mastered all of Kyokugen's basic techniques, but was still waiting for his turn to take the examination for black belt. It was not like he had intended to use it in a fight until being properly trained, but Ryoga had pushed him to his absolute limit, and it was the only technique Marco could think of that could break though the boy's extraordinary defenses and knock him out.

Kick, kick, chop, punch, knee, it was all coming together so beautifully. Marco could feel Ryoga's body buckling under the weight of his blows. The exhilaration of gaining the upper hand served well to block out the growing burning pains racing through his body. It seemed very likely to Marco that he would not be able to continue the tournament after this, but at least he would go out on a high note.

Meanwhile, Ryoga could barely collect his thoughts as he continued to weather the furious assault of the Ranbu. It seemed there was nothing he could do. If he raised his arm up to ward off a punch to the jaw, he would instead receive a knee to the stomach, and if he tried to stop a kick to the knees, then he would receive a chop to the shoulder. He could not read his opponent's attacks no matter how hard he tried, and his strength was quickly failing him. Even his body, hardened by the Bakusai Tenketsu training, could not handle so many blows in quick succession. It was the same principle that had allowed Ranma to defeat him with the Amaguriken in what had seemed like a lifetime ago.

'Heh, I'm pretty introspective for a guy getting the crap kicked of him.' Ryoga mused. That thought was cut off when Marco landed another punch to his mouth.

How much longer was this going to last anyway? Ryoga's sense of time may have been distorted with all of the adrenaline going to his head, but it seemed to him like this had been going on for several minutes. Marco's technique seemed to be pushing his body beyond its limits. He should have dropped unconscious from exhaustion by now, but he just kept on going. The amount of willpower needed to go against every natural instinct to rest, it must have been immense. Marco was an amazing opponent; that was for certain. Only Ranma had ever been able to press him like this, with one notable exception.

Oh yes, there was Lime. That was one fight Ryoga would have liked to forget. For his part Ryoga was confident that he was not going to die here, because he already knew that feeling all too well. For all of his griping about how Ranma had made him seen Hell, it was Lime who had almost permanently sent him to the next world. There were no sign of his grandparents yet, so he could be thankful for that much. Still, the thought of Akari watching him get thrashed around like this, it was so shameful he might just as well die...

Wait a moment! That was the key to all of this! It was strange that he could even think of all of this while getting beat up, but it could yet prove the key to victory. It would be a close run thing, no doubt about it, but he had pulled it off once before, and he could do it again!

'Yes, what a depressing thing it all is…"

"Ryoga!" Akane gasped. She had seen him take some hard beatings in the short time they had known each other, mostly from Ranma, but this one came off as especially savage to her. Her senses as a martial artist may not have been as refined compared to that of her friends, but she could tell that there was something wrong with all this. That Marco guy seemed like he was as bad off as Ryoga, as if every blow he landed was injuring him in process. She did not want to think of the worse, but it seemed possible that they could both end up dying at this rate.

"That is crazy down there." O'Conner mused. "I've seen some other fighters from the Kyokugen school use Ryuuko Ranbu before, but not in that form. I didn't even think it was possible to sustain it for that long." His voice grew increasingly agitated. "I mean Rodriguez has been wailing on the poor kid for three minuets already! When is he going to give it up?"

"Who? Ryoga or this Rodriguez guy?" Nabiki asked. She had to admit that she had never expected things to get so brutal out of the gate. Then again she had never followed the fights between Ranma and his rivals all that carefully back in Nerima, only enough to try and make a profit off of them. Had it always been this bad?

"Both of them!" O'Conner shouted back at her. "It's got to end already!"

"They can't do that." Akane said, her voice charged with emotion. "It's because… It's because the technique is out of control."

"Huh?" Nabiki gave her sister a strange look. "How do you lose control over how to punch or kick?"

"Look, I know what I'm talking about here. Just because I'm not a master doesn't mean I can't tell when a fighter has lost control of himself. That Marco guy used a technique that was too powerful for him to control, and both he and Ryoga could end up dying from it!" Akane had to work very hard not to break down sobbing as she said those words.

"Oh my!" For once, Kasumi was not stating her trademark phrase lightly. Her expression became uncharacteristically grim.

Nabiki grew uneasy. "But… but no one ever dies in these fights. Ryoga get pounded by Ranma at least once a week, and he's back on his feet after an hour. How is this any different?" She noticed Akane was not paying any attention to her. "Hey Akane, I said how is this any diff…"

"Good god Nabiki! I don't have time to explain this all to you!" Akane snapped back at her sister. In an instant, her resolved hardened and she knew what she had to do. "I have to get down there!"

"What? That's crazy, you can't interrupt the fight! And don't even think about getting fresh with me!"

"Uh ladies, I hate to interrupt this touching family moment, but I'm going to have to suggest that going down to the ring right now would be a bad idea." O'Conner's eyes were wide in shock as he looked out the window.

Akane and Nabiki both turned to see what had captured the reporter's attention, and quickly understood. That green glow, that unmistakable green glow. A pillar of green light now hovered above the ring.

"The Perfect Shi Shi Hokodan. I understand Ryoga… I said I would believe in you, and I'll continue to do so." Akane took a deep breath. It was time to see what a martial artist in full control of his techniques could do.

Ranma stared up at the pillar of green light before him and swallowed hard.

'It's hard to believe Ryoga can muster that sort of power even when being so hard pressed. I don't even understand how he managed to do it! The level of concentration alone… but then he always had me beat when it came to raw endurance too.'

Once again Ryoga had reminded Ranma of why he would always be his greatest rival, no matter how many other amazing fighters he would meet in the future.

"Looks like some men make their own luck." Mousse said, not so much speaking to Ranma but for his own reference.

Across the field, Jenet and Tizoc looked on in wonder.

"What sort of attack is that supposed to be?" the pirate said, slightly terrified.

"A magnificent one, Miss Jenet. Does anything else need to be said?"

Ryoga continued to soak up the blows his opponent unleashed upon him. Marco seemed oblivious to what was happening above, as if possessed by a demon, and pressed on with unceasing ferocity. It did not matter at this point anyway. Whether this succeeded or failed was all in Ryoga's hands, no one else's.

'This is the only way, the only option I have left! If the Perfect Shi Shi Hokodan doesn't work, I'm as good as dead!'

Ryoga continued to allow the negative thoughts bubble up from the darkest recesses of his mind.

'Is this how it's going to end for me? Accidentally beaten to death by some guy I just met ten minutes ago? In front of all of my friends? It's pathetic! Totally pathetic! I let everyone down. Akari… Akane… Ranma… what the hell, I'll throw Mousse in too. And the shame I'll bring to my family, provided they ever find a TV or newspaper where they can read about all this…'

With each negative thought, Ryoga's chi grew heavier and heavier.

'I'm a failure as a martial artist! I can never get ahead. I look stupid, like a half-rotten banana! My hair is a mess! I have no sense of direction! People make fun of my teeth!'

He was almost there, he could feel it. Just one more thing to put him over the top, and boy was it ever a good one.

'And oh yeah, I sometimes turn into a lousy helpless pig… all because I get wet!'

That was it, now was the time to strike.

With great effort, Ryoga willed the great ball of ki in the sky above to descend on his position. As it soared downwards with astonishing speed, Ryoga took the last step and cleansed his mind and soul of any lingering negative thoughts. In his moment of clarity, he managed to catch Marco's latest attack, a high kick to the head.

"You were wrong Marco, it all ends with this: Shi Shi Hokodan!"

The pillar of light descended upon them, engulfing both of their forms. The impact created a deafening crash that drowned out all other sounds. It continued this way for what seemed like an eternity to any bystanders, although in reality it was only a few seconds.

When the light faded, Marco laid face first on the ground, knocked clear unconscious by the impact of the Shi Shi Hokodan. The people packed in the arena went silent, in awe of the awesome display of power they had just witnessed.

"Heh, it worked." Ryoga said, a slight smile forming at his lips, a second before he collapsed unceremoniously to the ground.

"Ryoga!" Ranma and Mousse screamed as they broke the silence. They both rushed over to his prone form. Ranma picked the Lost Boy up gently, checking for any wounds.

"Is Hibiki alright? Should we get him a doctor?" Mousse asked.

"He's breathing." Ranma replied with a smile. "This is Ryoga we're talking about here. I bet you anything he'll be back on his feet in no time. Let's just get him out of the ring." And together the two carefully helped their unconscious teammate back to their side of the arena.

A moment later Ryoga began to stir.

"Ranma… Ouch!" he flinched in pain. His whole body was sore from the hundreds of blows he had taken, but he felt otherwise intact. "You took me out of the ring?"

"Yeah, don't hold it against me. That was something. you knocked that Rodriguez guy out cold with your Shi Shi Hokodan. He never saw it coming." Ranma smiled warmly as he gave the news.

Mousse was less enthusiastic. "Unfortunately, now it won't be a surprise for future opponent. I can't fault you for having to use it, but it does put us at somewhat of a disadvantage to use our best attacks so early in the tournament."

"Give me a break." Ranma said dismissively. "We've got plenty more from where that came from. We're no one trick ponies. And thanks to Ryoga, we're ahead."

"Notice though they haven't called it officially."

"Huh? What's that supposed to prove? Give them a moment."

Marco meanwhile was still out cold, and Tizoc came over to his side to check on him.

"Marco… Marco. Are you in there?"

"Uh, what?" the Brazilian stirred ever so slightly in response to his friend's booming voice.

"Huh, you are very lucky my friend. If that boy had not stopped you, I believe you would have literally fought to your last breath."

"He stopped me? Then the Ranbu failed." Marco silently cursed himself for his weakness. He knew it had been a terrible gamble, but to lose control like that, he had brought nothing but shame to his school.

Tizoc picked Marco up over his shoulder like a child. "Perk up my valiant comrade! You lost this day, but you learned a valuable lesson."

"Not to use forbidden techniques?"

"Wonderful! Glad you understand! And understanding is half the battle!"

"Are you for real? I knew that before chicken-man, I just had a lapse of judgment is all." Marco muttered. Okay, it was a huge lapse of judgment. But did that crazy luchador always have to try and turn these things into corny public service announcements?

Tizoc looked up dramatically to the sky. "And to think you learned your lesson all thanks to that kid with the funny banana bandana. Truly, we have much to learn from the children." He raised his free arm in a grand sweeping gesture. "I could weep manly tears just thinking about it."

"Please don't, I think we look silly enough as it is." Marco closed his eyes. "So what's next?"

At that moment the announcer's voice broke over the speakers.

"Attention everyone, excuse us for the delay, but the judges have been in intense deliberation over how to call this match, and have come to their decision. The result is… a draw! No points awarded."

As if on cue, the booing started.

"A draw! What kind of decision is that?" Akane was fuming. "Ryoga clearly knocked his opponent out first. He should be the clear winner!"

"He did lose consciousness, but it is clear Rodriguez was knocked out first." O'Conner said thoughtfully. "That was a bad call by the judges, and a tough break for your friends."

"Right! Those judges must be crooked!"

"Look at the bright side." Kasumi said cheerfully. "Ryoga was able to stop that man, and it's only a draw. It's not as if Ranma is now at a disadvantage."

Her older sister's words did seem to have a calming effect on Akane.

"What did that lady say?" asked O'Conner, unable to understand Japanese.

"Oh, sorry about that," Akane turned back to the reporter. "My older sister said the tie won't hurt our team's chances for victory."

"Ah, I see. She's right to an extent, but it does mean that the remaining matches are even more important now. Both team captains have yet to be picked, and either one losing could mean the end for their team."

Nabiki meanwhile was fuming in the back of the VIP lounge.

'I never counted on a draw for the first match. I didn't put that much money on it, but it's the principle of the thing!'

She willed herself to control her emotions. This was nothing, gambling by its nature meant that some losses would be incurred. She would just have to be more careful on the next one. Nabiki turned her eye on O'Conner.

"So Mr. Reporter, how do you feel things stand currently? How do the remaining fighters match up?"

O'Conner shot his head towards Nabiki. "I told you earlier Miss, I'm not a gambler. And didn't I just pay you a whole bunch of money a little while back? How greedy can you get? Why don't you go buy yourself something over at the concession stand to tide you over? Leave the people who actually appreciate this stuff alone for a while."

"Humph, you Americans are really blunt, you know that? You don't have the slightest bit of tack."

"I'm Irish."

"Oh? Is that why you sound so funny?" Nabiki said mockingly. "I thought you were from Texas."

"Arghhh!" O'Conner turned back to the window. Damn it all if he was going to waste any more time than he already had arguing with this shrew. He had to admit though, the Saotome team was more amazing than he could ever have previously imagined.

Living around Nabiki Tendo on a daily basis? No wonder these guys were so tough.

Ryo, Robert, and Yuri sat in awe as they watched the replay of the final moments of the last battle, carefully analyzing what happened.

"That was something new." Robert mused, inadvertently breaking the tense silence. "Ryoga is good, easily on Ranma's level. A ki attack directed from above? We could never have done that at their age. I wonder what the Master would think about it."

"I know. I should be angry that our school lost," Yuri said. "But that was an amazing finish right there. You were right bro, these guys are that good."

Ryo was focused on another point, something he had noticed as the attack was first being formed. He had been a good distance away from the action, but that feeling he sensed, it had been unmistakable. An emotion fueled ki attack, just like Ranma's! But this one tapped into emotions far darker than the one Ranma had used, and it showed in just how powerful it was.

'You walk a thin line there, Ryoga Hibiki. Most martial artists would never dare to go where you do, but it seems you're more than capable of handling the consequences. Maybe Marco should be looking to you as a teacher instead of me.'

"Those judges may not recognize you as the victor, but this day, I salute you as the better man." Ryo rose to his feet. "Osu!"

Robert and Yuri quickly followed him.

"Osu!"

"I knew they were going screw us." Mousse said as he shook his head. "There's an old amazon saying that goes along the lines of, 'If the victory is not obvious to all, then it's not a victory.'"

"Well I thought it was damn obvious!" Ranma shouted. "They robbed Ryoga. I oughta run up there and give 'em a piece of my mind!"

"Save yourself the trouble, you don't even know where 'there' is. Also, your grammar is slipping again."

Ranma tried to think of a response to that, but had to concede that once again Mousse was right about something. That was happening way too often these days for Ranma's comfort.

"Guys, just leave it be." Ryoga finally said. By now he had regained enough strength to sit upright.

"Ryoga, you can't tell me your fine with this?" Ranma asked.

"No, I'm not. But I'm also used to having victory snatched away from me." Ryoga's hair had fallen over his eyes, concealing his expression.

"However, this fight is not over. You… you can still win this for all of us. Don't let what happened to me throw you off your game. Strike hard from the beginning, and don't hold anything back. That was my mistake. Do that, and we can move on to the next round; then I can redeem myself."

Ryoga slowly raised his open palm towards Ranma and curled into a fist, his eyes finally making contact with his rival again.

"Next time, there will be no doubt when I defeat my opponent. Do you understand?"

Ranma smiled. "You got it buddy. Your fight will not have been in vain."

The two then clasped hands in an expression of solidarity.

"Funny, why do I suddenly have the feeling of being left behind?" Mousse said sourly.

"Excuse me Mousse, I did forget about you." Ryoga cleared his throat. "Don't mess this up for me, or I'll pound you into the dirt later."

It was at that time Mousse came to the conclusion it was sometimes better to be left behind.

The speakers flared to life once more.

"Attention, we are now selecting the next two competitors for matchup. Fighters, please get ready."

'Who's it going to be now?' Ranma thought. 'Is it my turn?'

Two more names flashed green on the giant monitor.

"The next round will be between Mous-say… "

"It's Mousse." The amazon tired to correct the announcer in vain.

"…versus Bonne Jenet! Please note that since Ms. Jenet is her team's captain, a loss by her would score two points for her opponents."

"Looks like it up to me to pull us ahead." Mousse said with a dramatic flick of his hair. Yes, the cameras were on him now. Time to play up to the crowd, this was his moment. The world would now learn the power of a hidden-weapons master.

"Just don't forget your glasses. I wouldn't want you to lose accidently by tripping on your face or something."

"Damn it Saotome, I am more than capable of fighting without my glasses."

"Uh sir, are you talking to me?" a very confused camera man asked nervously.

"Oh geez," Ranma shook his head. "I'd better start warming up now. I'm guessing this is going to be a short match."

"Silence Saotome, you should be grateful it was I who was picked for this battle. After all, you get so hung up about having to hit women."

Ranma threw his hands up in protest. "Hey, don't use that against me! It's just I have standards is all. I'll only fight a girl if I happen to be in my… other form. Unlike you I fight fair."

"So that's what this is about? If you have such issues with me and my 'unfair' tactics, we could look into a substitution. Now where is that hose of mine?" Mousse's hand moved around in his sleeve suggestively.

"Don't even think about it." Ranma was really starting to get angry now. "Just get up there already, and remember what Ryoga said."

'How little my supposed 'leader' thinks of me.' The amazon thought casually leaped into the ring. 'You would think he wants me to lose.'

He would just have to make Saotome eat his words, now wouldn't he?

"How disappointing, this isn't the one I wanted to fight at all."Jenet idly scratched the back of her head as she spoke, looking profoundly unladylike. "Why did it have to be the one in the glasses? The ponytailed kid is a lot cuter!"

Tizoc had only just finished helping Marco receive help from the medical staff, and was walking back to her side as she spoke.

"Huh? What is that now, not happy with your choice of opponent? No offense, Miss Jenet, but that seems a little silly, even for you. I've heard women these days are really picky about what kind of man they want, but this takes it to a new level."

"Oh be quiet," Jenet stuck her hands on her hips. "This is a big moment for me."

"You've been down this path more than once before and have come out on top. I know you will do well." Tizoc nodded his head as he spoke, as if the act itself affirmed the truth of his words.

"Thanks Tizoc-baby," she grinned "You know when you're not hamming it up you're pretty cool… What the hell are you doing?"

Before she had even finished her sentence, Tizoc had gone off into another bout of dramatic posing.

"Yes Miss Jenet! Think of all of your fans out there, and let their smiling faces power your convictions to victory! There is nothing you cannot accomplish in this world when you have faith in yourself! It's a beautiful thing, no?"

"Okay, you can shut up now."

"As you wish Miss Jenet." Tizoc said, brushing off her harsh words with his typical good humor. A hero of justice knows not to overplay his message after all.

'But Miss Jenet, I do hope you take my words into consideration.' He thought as she walked into the ring.

"Things move quite quickly at this tournament, don't they?" Akane looked as the next two fighters took their places. "They barely cleared out the ring and now the next match is about to start.

O'Conner, who had been busy taking down notes in his journal raised his head up and responded.

"That's how things tend to work at the King of Fighters tournaments. You should have seen it back when it was organized as a straight out endurance test. Two fighters would start a match, and when one was beaten, a fresh team member would replace him. They would keep on going like that until an entire team had been defeated. Sometimes it was literally a case of victory going to the last man standing. And don't even get me started on the tag matches, those were downright chaotic."

"Maybe you can tell me more about that later. But right now I'd like to ask you what kind of person is this Jenet woman?" Akane said this while looking at the blond pirate's image on the monitor.

In Akane's estimation, Jenet didn't look like that much of a fighter. What with her provocative clothing, heavy makeup, and sloppy posture she looked more like some party girl ready for a night on the town. Even Shampoo tended to tone down her appearance if she knew she was going to get into a real scuffle. Why Jenet made the purple-haired amazon whore seem like a paragon of modesty in comparison!

"Why do you ask? You're not asking me this on behalf of your sister?" O'Conner took a distrustful look back at Nabiki, who stuck her tongue out at him and stomped off.

"It's nothing like that!" Akane said defensively. "I'm a martial artist too you know, and I want to learn more about all of these different fighters." While she did not intend it, her eyes revealed an eager look that spoke volumes about her intense interest in the subject.

O'Conner chuckled. "I see, well I can't turn down a request like that," he quickly flipped through his notebook to the relevant page. "Let's see now. First of all, I can tell you her real name is not Bonne Jenet. It's Jennie Behrn. She's English by nationality, twenty years old…"

"Behrn?" said Nabiki, who had snuck up on O'Conner at the first available opportunity. "Now where have I heard that name before?"

In a feeling of déjà vu, something in her mind clicked. "Oh you have to be kidding me! Another one? It was enough with Garcia!"

"Let me guess, she's filthy rich?" Akane deadpanned, already guessing the answer.

"Tea and spices, plus diversified assets in other service industries throughout Western Europe," Nabiki sighed. "What is wrong with these people anyway? Is there a certain point where money makes you go crazy and gives you the desire to be slapped around by weirdoes?"

"Well Jenet's not your ordinary rich girl by any stretch of the imagination," O'Conner reentered the conversation, annoyed that Nabiki had again tried to hijack it. "She wants to earn her own fortune, prove that she's her own woman. So after her grandfather died, she took some of her inheritance and formed a pirate crew. Now she sails across the world in search of adventure and treasure."

"Because that's exactly how any reasonable person would do it if they inherited a boatload of money." Nabiki could feel a throbbing feeling forming at her temples. "As I said, what is wrong with these people?"

"Takes all kinds I guess." O'Conner shrugged. "As for her fighting ability, it's surprisingly high. She uses a modified form of Savate, that's a form of kickboxing native to France. Based on her recent performance in other competitions, I would say she's a formidable opponent."

The reporter gained an idea, and smiled. "But there is a missing element in my analysis: the fighting ability of her opponent," he turned to Akane. "So let me ask you Miss Tendo, you know how your friends fight, in your opinion how do you think this Mous-say guy will do?"

Akane scratched her head, trying to think of a good way to phrase things. "Mousse is not your typical martial artist. His style uses concealed weapons, and that can be very hard to counter if you've never seen it before. Overall however, he's not as strong as Ryoga, less skilled than Ranma, and slower than both of them. To put it bluntly he's the weakest member of the team. If Jenet is at least as strong as Mr. Rodriguez, then she has a good chance of beating him."

She had not intended for her assessment to come out so harshly against Mousse, but it was no doubt affected by her ambivalence towards the man. Akane did not like to admit it, but she really did not consider Mousse a friend, or even an enemy for that matter. He just seemed to be… around for lack of a better description. It was Ranma who had to deal with his antics most of the time anyway.

"Very interesting ," O'Conner scribbled down all of the information down into his notes. "You're very perspective Miss Tendo, and honest too. Instead of being a martial artist, maybe you should consider a career in journalism?"

"Me?" Akane grew flustered. "I never really thought of it."

Her thoughts were drawn back to when Ranma made his offer several months before.

'Work alongside me to revive the school. You're the only person I can trust with it.' That had been the gist of Ranma's words. But where were things going? It's not like Akane had been directly involved in most of the events leading up to the tournament, and even now she was a spectator to the whole thing.

Even worse was that Akane could honestly concede she had no real place in the tournament as a competitor. Just watching the first match between Ryoga and Marco had swept away any illusions on where she stood as a martial artist. She was a novice in so many areas of combat it brought her to the edge of despair.

'I guess it's just silly to be so wrapped up in my problems when there is so much going on. If I right, it's Mousse who in real trouble here.' She sighed.

"Akane, aren't you going to watch?" Kasumi asked.

"Yeah!" Akane said as she pushed all of those bad thoughts out of her mind.

Yes, her own problems would have to wait.

Mousse waited impatiently for Jenet to meet him in the center of the ring.

'Look at her dragging along. Is she trying to make a mockery of this battle?'

"Why did I have to get stuck fighting four-eyes?" Jenet moaned within earshot of the amazon. "The other guy is so much cuter." She continued shuffling forward as it she was walking to her own execution.

"You have got to be kidding." The amazon chose then to remove his glasses. Not that he really cared what this hussy thought he looked like, but he wanted to set the record straight about who was the best looking member on his team. Okay, so maybe that meant he did sort of care, just not in a way that soiled the pure, undying love he held for Shampoo. No, not in the slightest, and shame on anyone who even thought that way.

As if on cue, Jenet took full notice of Mousse's fine features without his coke glasses. She was impressed to put it mildly. Maybe this fight would be not so bad after all…

"Look at this! It seems I misjudged you Poindexter. You're a real cutie without those glasses!" she gushed. "If you were just a couple of years older you would be perfect for me. Still, maybe you would be interested in joining my crew in the meantime? My Lillien Knights are always looking for a few good men... and if you can put up a fight, so much the better!"

Jenet leered at Mousse suggestively, and blew a kiss at him.

Mousse's first response was a look of stony distain, which quickly morphed into smug superiority. Jenet seemed unimpressed by his act.

"What's the matter stud? A woman gives you a compliment and you stand there like a slack-jawed idiot? You're not going to get very far in the world with that attitude, darling."

"You think you can get me off my game with some bits of flattery mixed in with insults?" He flung his hair back over his shoulders. "You think too highly of yourself, and I have no use for vulgar women like you. Let me make this clear: there is room in my heart for only one love! SHAMPOO, MY DARLING! I COMMENERATE MY IMMIENT VICTORY TO YOU!"

He punctuated his statement by opening his sleeves, allowing several fireworks to shoot into the air. They exploded in a blast of purple sparks. The audience, not quite understanding what this was all about, cheered at what they assumed was a display for their entertainment (and to promote clean, healthy hair).

"Wherever you are my love, know that I am always thinking of you!"

"…

"MOUUUSSSSSSEEEE!"

The nerve of that idiotic duck! To humiliate her so! That nobody understood what the hell he was talking about was completely beside the point!

"What's going on over there?" a panicked spectator cried out in terror.

"Some purpled-haired woman is going ballistic!" another man replied. "Someone call security before she does something dangerous!"

"Calm yourself child!" Cologne put her staff out in front of her great-granddaughter to retrain her. The old woman repressed a sigh; she really should have seen this coming the moment Mousse had a chance to fight.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid duck! I make you into next dinner special for Nekohanten! I put you over spit and roast you until you golden-brown and crispy! I pickle your worthless eyes and…"

"Oh my god, now she's threatening to kill a poor innocent duck and cook him right here in the stadium! Who let this nutcase in?" said a woman who looked like she was about to collapse in terror.

"Why does it always have to be the pretty ones?" a man shook his head knowingly.

"Mom was right, I should have just stayed back home in Cincinnati and watched this thing on TV." A third person chimed in.

"I guess she just really hates hair care products." Another woman suggested. "Although with hair like hers, I don't know how she thinks she can get away with not using it."

Cologne finally decided to lay down the law.

"Do you have any idea how you look to everyone around you child? You are making a fool of yourself. This is not China, nor is it Nerima. The rules here are different and you would be wise to start following them, unless you want to be thrown out and miss your husband's upcoming match."

Shampoo noticed the hundreds of people now gawking at her due to her outburst. Funny, back in Nerima everyone seemed to be alright with her letting off a little steam in public. What was up with this place? Still, her great-grandmother did have a point. She should smooth out this problem before it led to further complications. Guess it was time to rely on some ancient amazon methods of diplomacy.

"What you people looking at, huh?" she snapped at them. "You have problem with Shampoo? I ready to hear you out, just first come over and say to my face." To punctuate her point, she quickly cracked her knuckles

No one dared to answer her challenge.

"Shampoo guess there no problem here then. Carry on, honorable foreign devils, enjoy the show."

Cologne resisted the urge to crack her great-granddaughter's head with her staff, as at least the matter had been settled to satisfaction. She would definitely have to have a talk with the girl later about the protocol on using ancient amazon methods of diplomacy. They had not been used by the tribe for six centuries for a reason.

"Well enough of that," she said. "Now, let's see if the part-time worker can earn his keep."

As Mousse finished up his little show, Jenet stood speechless… for about two seconds.

"Now I know you're never getting anywhere with a woman, seeing as how you're a basket case. What a shame." Her features hardened.

"Oh well, I guess it's about time I kick your ass and move on!" she leaned forward aggressively, not quite striking a combat pose, but looking quite dangerous regardless.

Mousse only responded with another malevolent smile.

"Are the fighters ready?" the announcer began. "Okay! Round two, goooooooooo!"

Jenet was quick to seize the initiative. She surged forward with tremendous confidence, throwing a quick series of kicks towards Mousse's legs and lower body. They were safe attacks, good for keeping him on the defensive while she evaluated his abilities as a fighter.

Her fighting style more or less revolved around striking first, not giving the enemy a chance to react. It kept the stronger opponents from being able to build up their momentum. If the opponent was faster than her… well she had methods for handling that as well, but there was no way she was going to show off her best techniques at the start of the match.

Mousse countered the attacks well enough, slapping down each incoming kick with his hands. From Jenet's view however, he seemed to be having a hard time judging where the blow would land until the last second.

"His hand-eye coordination isn't up to par,' she thought. 'Not surprising considering he must be legally blind several times over. Enough of this, time to mix things up.'

She then made a feint, acting as if she was going to throw another kick at his knee, but at the last moment stopped and took a powerful swing with her left arm at his head. As she expected, he took the bait, leaving himself wide open…

And then she felt the shock of something cold and sharp jamming into her right shoulder. The jolt of pain left Jenet so surprised she lost her balance and tumbled to the ground. She took control of her fall and used the momentum to put some distance between herself and Mousse. Taking a quick glance at her the shoulder, she could see a sizable gash had appeared.

'What in the world, he tricked me?' was all she could think as she rose to her feet. 'The bastard played me!'

'What did he do?' she asked herself, looking at the wound, applying pressure to it in order to reduce the bleeding. There was no doubt about, he had stabbed her with something, but what? She had been only a foot away from him when he struck, and she had not seen any weapons on him, not even a faint glimmer of metal.

"So what did you just do you naughty boy?" Jenet asked. "Did you conceal a knife on you or something?"

"A knife?" the amazon said haughtily. "Give more credit than that. I think it was a spear, or maybe it was a halberd. It was probably some kind of polearm. I keep a lot of weapons concealed in my robes you see, and sometimes I'm just not very particular about which one I pull out for an attack, especially when I'm dealing with weak opponents."

Jenet rose back up to her feet. It all made sense now. She had heard a few stories in her travels, but to actually come up against it…

"So you're a hidden-weapon user? I thought you guys only existed in legend. You're definitely every bit as nasty as they say."

"You know it seems a lot of people have issues with my style." Mousse opened his sleeves to reveal that he had donned a pair of iron claws on his hands. "But it seems to me they're just too stupid to bring their own weapons to a battle. Warriors should be ready to use any tools necessary they need to secure victory, and that's all there is to it."

He drove home his point by jumping high into the air, coming down on Jenet like a tiger lunging on his prey. She dashed forward to avoid the claws, only to have to duck at the last second as he extended a powerful kick at her face. She belatedly noted that his feet were now covered in razor-sharp metal talons as well.

When the hell had he found the time to put those on?

Seeing that he had managed to put his opponent off her guard and wound her, Mousse next did what came naturally to him: he decided to gloat over his accomplishment. Now one might claim this was throwing away a golden opportunity to press a major advantage, but then again Mousse never was quite as smart as his glasses might have implied.

"To be honest, I'm disappointed. Ranma was making such a big deal about this tournament, and I assumed that as a team captain you would prove to be a challenging opponent. But no such luck, I instead find myself fighting a moronic, lazy foreigner with no style whatsoever. Where I come from, the women are more often than not greater warriors than the men, but fools like you show how that is a sad exception in the world."

Oh yes, that would show her who was the better martial artist around here. So you can imagine how surprised the young amazon was when his insults were met with nothing but mocking laughter.

"Little boy gets in one good hit and he thinks this fight is already over." Jenet said calmly, before injecting increasing anger into her voice. "You idiot! Underestimating my skills will be your first and last mistake! You use hidden weapons? Ha, I think I can one up you on that, lover boy."

Mousse also noticed that Jenet had taken advantage of his long-winded tirade to tear off a piece of her dress and tie it around her wound and regain her composure.

"Now I'll show you the secret to my style. Keeps those glasses on honey, it's going to be quite a show."

Ryoga shook his head, feeling a combination of anger and pity for Mousse. He knew that idiot was going to blow his advantage. From all of their time sparring, he had learned that Mousse could never keep that fat mouth of his shut long enough to do what he had to, all his talk of a "warrior's killer instinct" aside.

"So why did you want him on your team again?" he asked Ranma rhetorically.

Ranma however was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice.

'Damn it! How could he just throw his advantage away like that? I don't even gloat that much during a fight… most of the time,' he caught himself. 'You're just going to throw your advantage away? I never thought much of you as a person Mousse, but I did think you were a smarter fighter than this.'

He could not contain himself any longer.

"Stop messing around already!" Ranma screamed out at the top of his lungs. "Do you want to screw this up or something?"

"Saotome…" Mousse began, ready to scold the pigtailed boy, but he never got a chance.

In that moment of distraction, Jenet walked up casually towards her opponent. Suddenly, she made a wide sweeping motion with her left arm towards Mousse, missing by a wide margin despite catching him off guard. At first it seemed to be nothing more than a clumsy and ill-planned strike…

"What was that woman? Is this supposed your style's secret technique? Pathetic."

…But only a few seconds later the results became clear.

"Dahhhh!" Mousse gasped as he was knocked to the ground. His robes were shredded to pieces in several places by an unseen force, and small amounts of blood oozed out from freshly made wounds.

Jenet stood over her opponent, admiring her work.

"Want to take a wild guess what happened just now, darling?" the pirate teased. "I'll give you a hint: no matter how thick your glasses are, you'll never be able to see my attacks coming."

To bring home her point, she charged forward at him again, but stopped only a few inches from his chest.

"Heigh-ho, sailor." She waved her hand again.

Mousse was sent reeling back as if he had been hit by a car. He hit the ground hard and gave off a few staggered grunts of agony as he tried to regain his balance. Jenet gave him no respite, dashing towards him and slamming her knee into his ribcage several times. Mousse's strength failed him as he collapsed in a heap.

"Take this!" Jenet called out again as she used Buffrass, her favorite long-distance attack. The invisible force slammed into Mousse three times in rapid succession, further beating him into the ground.

"One more good blow ought to finish this." The pirate said confidently.

'Shampoo!' Mousse thought desperately as he tried to stay conscious. ' Do not give up on me! I swore I would win this battle for you… and I will!'

Cologne had been watching the match with increasing trepidation. The wizened old master had suspected that the blond foreigner had been hiding her true ability from the beginning, and sure enough the moment Mousse lowered his guard he was punished for it. Every time that Cologne had hoped that Mousse would show some common sense in his strategy, he disappointed her.

Deciding to take a quick look over at Shampoo, Cologne was equally disappointed to see the girl was unmoved by what was unfolding in the ring below.

"I would think you would show some concern for a fellow amazon warrior in peril, my child. Regardless of your personal feeling about him, he is one of our own."

"Aiya, what's the big deal great-grandmother? The idiot got himself into a real mess, again." Shampoo said in Mandarin. "That's what he gets for being a showoff."

"You realize that the reputation of the village is at stake in all of this?" Cologne rebuked her. "You should not take this so lightly child."

"Eh, it's not a big deal. Mousse is not officially representing the village in this fight is he? That deal you made with him was verbal only. If it somehow comes up with the others elders at some point, you could claim he went rouge. It would be our word against his, and he has few allies outside of his immediate family. The only thing at stake here is that buffoon's oversized ego, and that could stand to take a good hit."

"And what if Mousse's loss were to cost son-in-law's team the whole match?" Not that it would work against Cologne's plans if that happened, but she was curious to see how Shampoo viewed it.

"No, I know Airen will win his fight, and the match. Coming from behind to win… that's his specialty." Shampoo's face glowed as she thought of her beloved husband conquering his foes.

"You take a very simple view of things. This is only the first round, and Mousse would be participating in any future battles as well."

"Well then he should get his butt in gear before he suffers another beating. It's all on his head how much he suffers; he should know that better than anyone."

"That is a very uncompromising view you hold," was Cologne's only response.

She had to give some credit to Shampoo. The child certainly was developing the streak of ruthlessness any good leader needed for survival, but sadly it was not being tempered by the impartiality and reason such a leader needed as well. Her bias was all too clear, and her judgment was being clouded by it as well.

'Not a good day for the future of Nǚjiézú,' the old woman concluded sadly. 'Not a good day at all.'

"How sad, you're a lot more delicate than you look," Jenet gloated. "Guess I'll show you some mercy and end this."

Jenet leaped high into the air, and at the apex of her jump…

"GULF TOMAHAWK!" she screamed as she began soaring back down to earth.

'Only one chance to make this work.' Mousse thought as he saw her dive right at him.

He threw half a dozen large pellets from his sleeves up into the air, where they burst into thick black smoke that obscured Jenet's view of him. As her attack cut through the smoke screen, the pirate noticed that dozens of flying iron darts had been launched at her as well. In a moment of pure defensive instinct, Jenet redirected the force of her attack to counter the darts, knocking all of them out of air before a single one could reach her. She allowed herself a small sigh of relief, knowing full well just how much danger she had been in.

'Good job there boy, you almost had me with that one. But I won't mess up with the next attack. You just pushed your defeat back by a few minutes at best, that's all.'

Mousse meanwhile had carefully watched Jenet response to his moves. His mind, keenly tuned to the properties of his many weapons, took particular note of how the darts had been deflected. Given that they had only been knocked away instead of destroyed outright, and the angles that they had been knocked away at… yes, it was all beginning to make sense now.

He grinned as the realization came to him. It was now clear how he was going to win this battle.

"Going to face your defeat with a smile? That's the spirit!" Jenet said as she readied herself for another attack.

"My defeat? I think you are mistaken, woman. I've just won this match. The secret to your techniques? I've figured it out, and so your chances at victory have now vanished."

Jenet would have been furious at the amazon's boast if she had not found it so ridiculous.

"You think you can win you silly boy?" she giggled. "Your defiance is cute in a way, even when it has no basis in reality."

"One minute."

"What?"

"One minute is all I need to beat you now… start counting."

End Chapter

Not a whole lot to say about this chapter. I spent a good amount of time revising the fight sequences so that they would flow better, but I wonder if they end up coming out a little short because of that. Which brings me to this point:

Senzetzu: Yes, there is a lot of talking in these chapters, but I felt it was necessary in order to make this story readable. I mean, six, seven, or eight solid pages of martial artists trading blows with one another sounds like a good read in theory, but in practice it's dry, very dry. That's my opinion anyway. It's an ongoing process, so I'll be looking to refine it as I move forward.

For everybody else who has been reviewing and adding me to their favorites list, thank you. It's good to know that even after all of these months people are still interested in this story.

So here is the bad news. It's going to take me another four weeks to get the next chapter ready. I just can't seem to squeeze these chapters out as quickly as I used to. It's not writer's block or anything like that .It just seems that the pace of writing has slowed down on a day-to-day basis. The good news is that in the past week I managed to write quite a bit, so I am still on a consistent schedule it nothing else. Maybe this time I'll even pull ahead. A guy can dream, right?

Well, until next time, take care!