Chapter 5: The Path Unfolds

The board snapped.

It was not a clean break. The shattered pieces of wood scattered into the air throughout the dojo. Ranma pulled back his fist and returned to a relaxed position faster than a person could blink. He watched his handiwork with a dissatisfied frown, trained eyes catching on to his mistake. It wasn't the speed of his strike that was the problem; hitting a block of wood he'd thrown in midair and punched on the descent was child's play. Nor was his strength an issue. If it had been, the board would not have broken at all. What bothered him was the sloppiness of the strike.

Two of the largest pieces of wood fell with a clatter relatively close together on the floor. The sensation of the snapping wood felt familiar. Looking down at his hand and his slightly red knuckles, Ranma thought back to the events months ago.

Memories rushed back abruptly. Red eyes. Wraith had those nightmarish eyes that could chill anyone to the bone. Yes, he remembered. He'd snapped several of Wraith's bones in much the same way as the wood, but that attack then had delivered a clean snap, the work of a trained warrior. This strike on the wood plank had the telltale signs of an amateur. It showed a lack of finesse and conviction. The question now was why. What was knocking away his focus?

He remained otherwise motionless, watching the remaining fragments of wood settle. His frown deepened and he turned his back, dropping forward onto his hands and began to do pushups as he thought. The up and down motions of his body was flawless and fast, like a machine with no limits. He always thought best while doing physical events and his mind worked furiously while he trained and built up his body. There were things he needed to sort out. To some a board that was broken without a clean strike may not seem like a big deal, but battles were sometimes won by the slightest of margins. Those margins were influenced greatly by even the smallest details.

50. 51. 52… Think Ranma. What is affecting your self-control?

He'd redoubled his efforts regarding his training since the funeral. All the turmoil and fear from the last several months cultivating with Happosai's death had left him with a lot of raw emotions he put to good use towards his training. As he continued his push-ups, his chest falling to just inches from the ground then back up until his arms were fully extended, his powerful arm muscles began to feel a slight burn. The goals of his training had been clear from the start. He had the speed. What he needed now was more strength and durability.

His muscles, while still lean, was becoming more cut than before. All his life he'd worked on perfecting his art, mastering techniques and attacks to add to his arsenal. For the first time in his life he was seriously trying to build up his raw strength using a training program designed to do it. The trick was not to lose his maneuverability and flexibility in the process. For what it was worth, he knew he was stronger than he'd ever been. That was apparent from Kodachi's failed little offensive the other day. If he had fought Taro the Shadow Warrior now, in his stronger state, it might have been a very different engagement.

80.81.82…

The results of his training had manifested and in any other situation he'd have been satisfied with this. But the result of the wood board shattering told him everything he needed to know. He was still unfocused and off balance. Happosai's death was still affecting him and he couldn't quite figure out why. The Old Freak has been nothing but a problem since the very first moment Ranma had met him. He had tarnished the reputation of the Tendo Dojo and established himself as a wanted criminal throughout the neighborhood. He had been the catalyst that had led to the learning new techniques such as the Hiryu Shoten Ha, but there was no reason to believe Cologne wouldn't have shown or taught him the move at some point regardless.

Challenging his body more, Ranma switched to three up and down lifts per count, tripling the work load on his body. He felt the slightest tremble in his arms as exertion began to set in but he pushed it back, his eyes blazing and staring at the far wall as he continued to exercise. He couldn't be content with the victories he'd experienced. What was the old saying? The moment you think you've won, you've really lost?

125.126.127….

The string of life changing events and battles were not by chance. He was absolutely convinced of this. Everything was happening for a reason. While he didn't know all the details yet, one fact was absolutely certain. If he let his guard down now the next attack, whenever it came, would leave him flatfooted and unprepared. Not physically, but mentally. That was why he'd worked so hard to train and clear his mind. He'd been trying to work through this strong sense of unease and guilt for weeks.

Why had he felt so conflicted since the funeral, he wondered. Perhaps it was because Happosai had died while trying to do something helpful for once. Ranma grunted with exertion and shook his head in rejection of this idea as sweat started to trickle down his face and pool onto the hardwood floor. No, that wasn't the full reason. So what was?

180. 185. 186…

The discomfort increased and Ranma relented at last, using his remaining strength to extend his arms all the way to the up position before front rolling into a crouch as his arm muscles blazed in protest. Slowly rising to his feet, he took a deep breath and slowly rotated his arms to relieve some of the discomfort. Turning to look out at the lawn from the Dojo's entrance, he watched Natsumi and Kurumi hanging the laundry. They were laughing about something he couldn't hear but the sound of their jovial laughter brought him enough comfort to finally turn that frown into a slight smile. The help and protection of the Tendo household had afforded the two a chance to live a normal life as a member of the family.

Help? Protect?

His eyes widened in realization. Yes, of course! Now he understood why he hadn't felt right since Happosai's passing. He'd spent all of his time channeling his emotions rather than understanding them. What really bothered him, more than the Old Goat dying, was the fact he'd died as a member of the team in battle. Ranma had been unable to save a comrade due to his own lack of skill and strength.

He shook his head quickly. Perhaps that thought was a bit too harsh. His skills had advanced at an incredible rate the last several months. This was attributed in no small part to his adaptability. His strength wasn't in question. What he'd failed to do was properly assess his enemy in the heat of battle. A comrade had died as a result, sacrificed to save Akane's life because Ranma had not be prepared to deal with Mint and Lime's onslaught.

Taking a deep breath, he felt a new sense of clarity about the situation. He had a goal now, a finish line to aim for with this new strength training. Like it or not, his friends and rivals looked to him as a leader when the chips were down. He had to hone his skills as a leader with the same intensity as his body. If another enemy or group of enemies attacked, Happosai might have company in the afterlife far sooner than expected. That could not be allowed.

"Never again," he vowed with finality. "I'll protect this family with my life."

Never again would he lose someone in battle due to his own inadequacy. He vowed this to himself, taking another deep breath. He could now put the memory of Happosai to rest and focus on his friends and loved ones who needed him here and now. He needed to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever fate threw at him next.

He tried to raise his arms and felt the exhaustion from his push up reps. His lips tightened into a thin line and he curled his right hand into a fist, punching out in midair, pushing past his exhaustion. He had to overcome his current limits even if it meant breaking them and himself in the process.

"Ranma," Kasumi's angelic tone called as she stuck her head into the room. "You have a phone call. It's Tatiwaki Kuno."

"Kuno?" Ranma paused in mid strike, blinking. "He's never called me on the phone before. What does he want?"

"He mentioned a conversation he wanted to have with you the other day."

Ranma thought for a moment. He remembered something about Kuno wanting to talk. Still, he didn't owe the guy any favors. Besides, the guy probably just wanted to try and set up yet another date with his beloved Pig-tailed girl. "I'm in the middle of training right now," he said, stating the obvious. "Tell him I'll call him back later or something."

The training of a warrior waited on nothing, after all.

Kodachi put an x through another day on her wall calendar with a black marker, turning onto her back as she sprawled out across her expansive bed, pearl sheets contrasting to her dark outfit and hair. "Just another few days."

This fact made her happy, though even she didn't understand completely why. She'd contemplated canceling the event mere hours after arranging it but she hadn't taken down Mikado's contact information. She could probably have found out where he lived easily enough. It would have been as simple as sending Sasuke out to gather information, one of his strongest skills. The problem was that with each passing hour the idea of going on a date with a good looking albeit narcissistic young man had become more and more appealing.

Kodachi smiled and spread her arms out wide, looking up at the ceiling. She wasn't stupid. She knew what kind boy he was. She could see it in his eyes and mannerisms. He was a crafty sort, a fox who would lure any hen out of the hen house by any means necessary. Collecting the affections of girls was a game of conquests to him.

"As if I care," she said to herself. And it was true. After all that time spent chasing Ranma it felt so good to be noticed by someone else for once, even if the reasons weren't innocent. She knew how she looked in her leotard. She worked hard to keep her figure toned and in shape. Attending an all girl's school meant there was little day time for her to soak up the attention of attracted boys. That made this particular event more than a little special for the young lady.

"Very well Mr. Fox," she giggled, gently for once. "The game is afoot. Let's see what happens, shall we?"

Giggling again, she hugged her pillow, then tossed it back into place at the head of her bed, thinking of Mikado. "Casanova or not, at least he's cute."

It was decided. She would most certainly show up. There was no reason to think he was the type of man who wouldn't have the decency to show up so there was little risk that her personal honor would be sullied with a stand up.

Flipping to her feet she smoothed out her black dress until the frills lay against her ankles. Giving her head a toss to position her one-sided pony tail over her shoulder, she went to go indulge in her good mood by tormenting her brother, as was her custom.

He was not in his room, nor in the training hall, or practicing in the yard. Everywhere she looked, he was nowhere to be found. Passing the living room she saw the TV was still on but made no move to turn it off as she walked across the room towards the front door. She only have heard a news report on the tv delivered by a news anchor wearing a fine blue suit and white tie.

"Musk Dynasty forces have finally broken the siege on their capital of Nanjing despite fierce Amazon counter-attacks and artillery bombardments that leveled parts of the city's suburbs. Details are sketchy as satellite has trouble monitoring this part of China. This region being one of the more obscure parts of China has been more or less isolated for centuries. Much like Taiwan, the Musk Dynasty claims to be an independent nation. Due to what appears to be prolonged tensions in the region, the smaller Amazon faction has finally resorted to all-out war. With the siege lifted and thousands dead, we await news on what will come. The Red Cross and other relief organizations-"

She toned out the rest, peeking into the kitchen and dining room before opening the door to look outside. Calling out for him was beneath her dignity so she tracked down Sasuke doing some work in in the front yard to see if he could provide her with information as to his whereabouts. He saw her approach and bowed in respect.

"Sasuke, have you seen my brother?"

Sasuke held the rake in one hand, shaking his head. "No, Mistress. Not since he called Ranma on the phone a few hours ago."

Kodachi cocked one eyebrow. "He told you he was calling Ranma? Why on earth would he call the man he hates?"

"Well, he did not tell me exactly, he kept muttering it on the way to the phone. He wasn't on the phone long and I didn't think much of it. I haven't seen him since then."

"I have no idea what he's up to. I can't be bothered to care." She gave a dismissive shrug, losing interest in finding him and turning to go back into the house. "If you see him tell him I'll be busy next Sunday and won't be joining him for lunch."

"Ah Mistress wait a moment!" Sasuki approached her, reaching into his back pocket. "I forgot to give this to you when I checked the mail earlier. Next weekend is Halloween and the Tendo's are having a part at Ucchans. You and Master Kuno were invited. It will be Sunday evening."

Kodachi gave him a seething look. "Ranma sends a letter to me, inviting us to a party and you dare to not bring it to me right away?!"

Sasuki squirmed. "Well actually, I think it was Kasumi Tendo who-"

"I can attend both events," she said decisively, cutting him off. "One event for the day, one for the evening. Yes, completely do-able. It should make for quite an exciting day. Make sure my brother knows, would you? There's a good man."

She knew there was a bounce in her step as she walked back into the house. Things were certainly looking up for the first time in a while. "Now then, what to wear….?"

As one sibling rose, the other continued to fall.

Tatiwaki had discovered the room quite by accident one day. While in the family shrine one day he'd been looking over one of the bookshelves. While attempting to take a book containing Shakespeare's works off the shelf a mechanism had activated and caused the bookshelf to move aside, revealing a hidden room.

Tatiwaki was in that room now, hidden away from his sister and the world. He looked around the room as he had countless times since he'd found it. The first thing he'd noticed were the scratch marks that adorned the walls, scratches deep enough to chip fingernails. Looking at these marks again now, it made the room feel like a prison. It was devoid of any furniture save a small table where two small candles could be lit for light. They were so now, casting a gentle glow across the man-sized statue of Buddah, a simple statue devoid of any magnificence save that which it gave off innately with a carved face displaying wisdom and enlightenment. It was all that kept the stifling gloom and frustration that permeated the room from consuming the spirit of the young man.

The carpet in front of the statue was worn and it was on this spot that Tatiwaki now knelt, clutching at his shoulders, looking up at the statue imploringly. The statue looked back and to the young swords man, the look was one of pity. It was probably his imagination. He knew that, but when the statue's face started to melt he recoiled in alarm before shaking his head, regaining mentality clarity enough to remember it was all an illusion created within his mind.

"Please, help me," he implored of the pious one, bowing his head in respect. He saw the book resting on the table, not salvation by itself but a step in the right direction. His source of aid, his source of salvation had let him down again by refusing to take his phone call.

"He abandons," his lips move, his voice speaks, but it is not his thoughts nor his will that cause it. "The world is chaos. How can trust exist in such a treacherous maelstrom?"

Kuno shook his head again but the madness had him. The person that was him but not continued to speak as the young man writhed on the floor, sweating profusely. "It cannot," the whisper was seductive and full of self-assurance. The smile that accompanied it was impossibly big, curled upwards well into the cheeks. It contrasted greatly the look of terror in the man's eyes. "There is no salvation. All life distorts. The only clarity and truth is the dark. Bath in it. Drink its waters. The water runs under earth and over rock. There is clarity with violence and hate. Let it clear your eyes and accept there is no hope, only acceptance."

Kuno found his voice, gathering his resolve. He rose to his feet, his hands clenching into fists. "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul -and sings the tunes without words –and never stops at all."

He found strength recalling poems and other bits of inspiration he'd absorbed in his readings over the years. It was enough to hold back the darkness, but just barely. It retreated, hissing in the corner of his mind, whispering "there is no hope. He will abandon you. He will disappoint you again… and again and…"

"Begone!"

Kuno gasped, leaning forward. It was becoming harder and harder to resist the siren's song of madness. Gasping, he wiped sweat-matted hair from in front of his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. The trembling in his limbs stopped and he was whole himself again, at least for the time being.

"I'm running out of time," he said, wiping a hand across his haunted face. "I'll try to speak to him tomorrow. I have no choice."

Looking at the book again, Kuno sank to his knees, opening its pages with an increasingly steady hand. He read all afternoon and into the night, committing the pages to memory for what lay ahead: his best chance for salvation.

The next day.

Tuesday found cooler weather than normal blowing around Tokyo. It blew Ranma's hair wildly as he walked down the road back home. Akane and her friends had cleanup duty and he'd left her to it, eager to go home and get a few hours of training in before dinner. He looked at the sparse trees alongside the road or in the park as he made his way home, enjoying the vibrant colors of the leaves as they changed.

He stopped suddenly on the path. Kuno was there and clearly waiting on him. Ranma advanced, coming to within a few feet of the taller warrior and instantly saw something was amiss. Kuno looked like he'd not slept in days and he had a haggard look on his face, a look he tried to mask with confidence and fake self-assurance as Ranma approached.

"Saotome," he nodded his head, "I would speak with you. I called you the other day."

Ranma relax a bit when he saw Kuno wasn't there to duel. Strangest of all, he didn't appear to have his bokken. He was hardly ever without it. Feigning disinterest, Ranma put his hands in his pockets. "Oh yea. Sorry about that. I forgot."

"I will cut straight to the chase. The matter is urgent. I need you to come with me to Kumamoto. I need your help with a mission." He noted Ranma's clueless gaze. "It's in kyushu."

Ranma cocked his head in disbelief. "You want me to go to Kyushu with you?"

"That's right, I'll pay all your travel expenses. If we are lucky, we'll only be gone a few days."

"And why do we have to go there?"

Kuno hesitated. This was the one question he knew was coming but couldn't bring himself to answer. "All I can tell you right now is that it is a matter of great importance to me and my family." He paused, watching the flicker of interest in Ranma start to die. "I will tell you one thing. I need to track down a sword there."

Ranma scratched his head. "You want me to hike across the country in search of a crummy sword?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Thanks, but no thanks. I have more important things I need to be doing here."

Kuno tried to not let his desperation show. He had prepared for this and now he would play his trump card. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to appear even more confident. "I understand you've missed a lot of classes these last six months?"

Ranma stared at him. "What of it?"

"Did you forget? My father runs the school."

Ranma snorted. "Saying that nut job 'runs' anything is bein' really generous."

Kuno tried to put the slight against his family aside, but it still grate on her nerves. Desperate though he was, he still had his pride to consider. "Be that as it may," he said between grit teeth, "I can ensure pass this semester. I know you have no aspirations of going to college. Pass this semester and you'll only need to make it through next semester before you are done with schooling forever. Come now, Saotome, surely that isn't a bad deal?"

Ranma thought for a long moment. What Kuno said was true. His grades had suffered and he was mostly to blame. Major life situations aside he'd put all his attention into training. That left him no time for homework or working at his grades. Furthermore, he was often up late and tried to sleep through some of his classes during the day. He might be an impeccable warrior, but Kuno nailed home the fact that the boy would never ever been anything besides a lackluster school student.

"I appreciate the offer," he said after a moment, moving past Kuno. "But I have things I have to work on here. See ya."

Kuno turned and grabbed Ranma by the arm. "Please, Saotome! I desperately need your help. If you come with me, I'll explain everything. I swear! What is it you want? Money? A new dojo? Name your price!"

Ranma paused but did not turn around. He had never seen Kuno like this before and he heard the desperation in the older man's voice. Something important enough was going on to scare Kuno. In his heart, Ranma felt bad for the guy but he and Kuno had never been friends. All the clueless samurai-wanna be had ever done was cause him grief. But more importantly than that, he had his training to consider, and his responsibility to the Tendo Dojo. If he left at the wrong time and someone or something attacked…

"I can't be bought," He shrugged his arm free and continued walking. "I told you already. I have responsibilities and problems here to deal with. Don't bother me with this again."

In the end, Ranma realized, the last thing he could afford was to get involved in someone else's mess. A training trip to find a sword wasn't something Kuno would need help with anyways. Surely he could hire a guide or something for wherever it was he wanted to go in Kumamoto. He left without so much as looking back, whistling nonchalantly, his mind turning to other thoughts.

Kuno slumped to his knees, staring at the ground downcast. A few curious people walked by but spared him only a glance. He sat there, staring at the ground feeling as lost as before. Ranma was the key to success. Without him, there was no overcoming this. What was he going to do now? His mind reeled. He thought about what he'd read in the book but there was nothing he could accomplish on his own.

A presence fell over him and the darkness was there, stretching out from his mind, visible to only himself. "It was said, was it not? There is no one. No salvation."

The darkness embraced him, its claws tearing into his mind. The blaze of pain only caused a terrible smile to appear on its face. Then Kuno realized he was looking down at a puddle and his eyes widened in fear. His hands came up, clutching at his cheeks, pulling at the skin as if desperate to wake himself up from whatever nightmare was gripping him. Me?

The smile grew bigger, monstrously so. Skin split, muscle shredded and the upturned parts of the smile came to just under its eyes. Empty, terrible joy reflected in its haunting eyes. "Just me. Only me. Well, that isn't entirely true. Misery does love company…"

Kuno saw an image of Kodachi, her laugher so strong it started to break her bones as she stood in front of him. The laugher became a disgusting cough and blood leaked down her jaw. Her body began to crack and she reached out to him before those same dark claws cut her in half. It was absolutely horrifying.

Why then, he wondered, was he laughing so hard?

Author's notes: At the rate this story is going, it may be pretty long! I have so many ideas I'm working on. There's always the risk of having too much going on at once so I'm doing my best to that in check. The scene with Kuno praying before Buddah in a secret room was a tribute to a similar scene in Alan Harnum's Ranma fanfiction: Waters Under Earth series. It remains one of my all-time favorite works of fanfiction and while he himself has mixed feelings about his work, I strongly urge you all to check it out sometime.

I appreciate all the comments people leave. Please keep giving me feedback! My goal is to get out a chapter or two a week. I hope all of you will like the direction this goes.

I went back and looked through some of my earlier chapters in this story and others. I proof them but each time I catch a type or missing word it makes me cringe. *sigh*

See you next time!