The Wheel of Fire, #21: One More Time, One More Chance 

  Written by Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NOREPLYhotmail.com) 
  http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/ranma/ranff.html 
  Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi. 
And all that other good stuff. Proper licenses belong to respective 
properties and characters. The manga has precedence over material 
in the anime. 
  This file can be freely distributed so long as it appears in its 
complete form and proper credit given. No part may be reproduced 
for monetary gain without permission from the author. 

  Fanart can be found at: 
    http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/fanart/index.html 

------------------------------------------------ 

  He walked alone in the empty street, the mid-afternoon sun 
beating down on his back, seemingly oblivious to the world around 
him; he had only one goal in mind. 
  For the umpteenth time in his life, he came to a halt in front of 
his favorite restaurant, already tasting the meal that was yet to 
be served. Allowing the imagined taste to settle in his mind, he 
pulled the front door aside, and stepped inside. 
  The customer was greeted warmly by the waitress by the door, 
bowing respectfully, for he was a well-known customer. The chef 
standing behind the grill turned her attention from her latest 
creation in order to offer a greeting smile. In turn, other 
restaurant regulars turned their heads and waved or said their 
greetings, as the customer took his usual spot right up at the 
grill. 
  He hardly needed to specify his order, for the chef already knew 
what he liked, and how he liked his meal done. The chef seemed to 
radiate an aura of sunshine and brightness-- an aura that 
permeated throughout the dining room and was absorbed by its 
occupants. Overall, it was the chef, the owner of the restaurant, 
who made the dining room such a happy place. 
  He watched her quickly cook up his order, and smacked his lips in 
anticipation of what was coming to him. His order was set before 
him delicately, and he immediately picked up his chopsticks and 
began eating. 
  She smiled warmly. 
  He hardly knew what to do other than eat his meal. That was 
how it went every day. 
  It was then that his significant other entered the restaurant, 
hardly surprised to find him here. The chef's eyes raised to meet 
the newcomer-- also well-known to her and the other regulars-- as 
she took her usual seat next to her significant other. 
  In a swift moment the aura radiated by the chef seemed to falter 
a bit; this was not lost upon the regulars. The waitress cowered 
off, unwilling to see what would happen next. 
  And then, to the customer and his significant other, the others 
in the dining room seemed to fade into nothingness. 
  However, the echo of the chef, forgotten in the nothingness, 
haunted the customer. 
  He realized this in an instant, suddenly being seized by a cold 
chill down his spine. He turned away from his significant other and 
faced where the chef should have been. 
  But, instead of her face, instead of her presence, instead of 
the familiarity, there was another. Cloaked in shadow, two pale blue 
eyes, glowing softly, stared back at the customer. Slowly, the right 
eye faded into nothingness, leaving the single glowing left eye. A 
thin, vertical red line slashed through the center of that eye, and 
it was then the customer truly understood his fear. 
  He wanted to tell the malevolence to stop, to bring back what was 
familiar to him, but the slashed eye merely stared back, seemingly 
growing in intensity, cold and unwavering. 
  As cold as ice. 
  The chill seized him once more. He turned back toward his 
significant other, but realized that she was no longer there. He 
was alone, with the malevolence, in what used to be the dining room 
of a familiarity. 
  All of the familiarity was gone. 
  In its stead, the dining room was replaced with shifting mists and 
clouds, highlighted with purple accents, illuminated by an unknown 
source. The shadow of the malevolence became more pronounced, and 
he could make out details. 
  The malevolence opened her heavy, dark mantle just long enough to 
produce a weapon that vaguely resembled a sai, but he knew that 
was not its true form. As expected, the handle of the weapon 
extended outward, stretching out to form a staff-- no, a trident. 
She pointed the weapon at his chin. 
  "You killed her," she said menacingly. 
  He shook his head. "No... no...." he said in denial. 
  "I will haunt you until the day you die," threatened the 
malevolence, thrusting the trident upward. 
  His head was caught between two of the trident prongs, and he 
choked as the trident lifted him into the air. He grabbed the 
trident with both hands, trying his best to hold himself over the 
trident head, but to no avail. 
  "You resist change most of all," continued the malevolence, her 
voice dripping with a hint of amusement. "You most of all, tried 
to keep the familiar alive. You thought nothing could change if 
you had a say in it. You don't." 
  He knew the malevolence was right, but could not say a thing, 
or get out a breath at all. 
  "And, since you resisted the change violently, you lost most 
of all." 
  His thoughts flashed to life behind the malevolence, a motion 
picture of his life. He saw what the malevolence wanted him to 
see: his near-defeat at the hands of the flaming sword, his death 
at the hands of the god-woman, the fatal death of a longtime 
opponent at the hands of another opponent, and more. But, the 
malevolence repeated one event in particular: her own death. 
  Unable to shake the panic anymore, he tried to scream, but the 
lack of air in his lungs prevented him from doing so. He felt 
the life slipping out of his body, just as it had done before in 
the battle against the god-woman, and desperately wished for the 
familiar to return. 
  "It's too late," the malevolence said, "because you killed her." 
  But he knew the malevolence was wrong. He still had one 
familiarity left to cling to... and yet, it was out of his grasp. 
He wanted to remember what that was... but the pain consumed him. 
  "Everything that once was is now gone. There is no status quo 
to maintain, because it is of free-form, always changing. And that 
is why you fail; you cannot fight the power of water." 
  "AAAAAAAAAKKKKKAAAAAAANNNNNEEEEEEE!!!!" Ranma screamed. 

  He burst awake in a cold sweat. 
  Breathing heavily, Ranma slowly took in his surroundings, sitting 
up in his bed. 
  Yes, this is my room... no, OUR room. 
  He was surprised, when he looked over at Akane's bed, to see that 
she had not been awakened. 
  I mustn't have screamed that out-loud, he thought. 
  Wishing to leave the confines of the small bedroom, Ranma quietly 
slipped out of bed, and carefully stepped out into the hallway. He 
made his way down the stairs, stairs which he had passed many times 
daytime and night, and made his way to the porch. 
  Ranma stared out into the Tendo yard, wishing the calm serenity 
of the garden was enough to put his mind at ease. 
  "That same dream," he muttered quietly to himself. "How many times 
had I had that one since...?" 
  He cut himself off quickly, wishing the unnamed event had never 
happened. 
  Seiryu's ghost from the dream was right about one thing: nothing 
will ever be what it was before. 
  It was only a couple weeks ago, he remembered, that Shampoo 
and Mousse moved in with Dr. Tofu, since the old hag had to return 
to China in a hurry. Since Mousse was unfit for travel, and the 
ghoul wished to punish both her disciples, the two were ordered 
to remain in Japan while she went off to fight a war back home. A 
war that Ranma had indirectly caused by challenging the power 
structure of the Chinese Amazons in their territory. 
  He had not heard from Mousse in a while, but Shampoo visited 
every once in a while, whenever she got Tofu to watch Mousse for 
her. Since Mousse wished to die after Shampoo's debilitating blow, 
his punishment was to stay alive, while Shampoo's was to keep him 
alive, and to that end Mousse was deprived of all his weapons and 
anything that could possibly be used against himself, which 
required a constant watch. Shampoo, whenever she visited, was always 
fatigued, weary of her imposed task, wishing desperately she could 
kill Mousse and be done with it. Her old spirit seemed to be gone, 
lost when she ran Mousse through. She always carried Seiryu's 
weapon on her person for a reason Ranma never asked. 
  Tatewaki Kuno, on the other hand, seems to have become more and 
more malevolent as time went on. Ever since returning from the 
fight against Nemesis, Kuno never seemed the same as before; Ranma 
noted that the older man seemed a lot more cruel than before. Each 
day Ranma received a single, small note from Kuno, always having 
the same message, claiming that Ranma was a weakling and all that 
rot. 
  Kodachi, his sister, seemed different as well. Ever since her 
old school changed their attendance rules, she's been attending 
Furinkan High for her senior year, along with several of her own 
classmates, in protest. The headmasters of St. Hebereke, it seemed, 
desired all their students to convert religions, something Kodachi 
outright refused. As she was the first to leave, other girls seemed 
to look up to her as their leader-- a leader by example. She has 
had no shortage of boys offering dates at Furinkan, but her 
current obsession doesn't allow her such luxuries. Who knows what 
that crazy girl was doing these days? 
  Suddenly, Ranma heard something rustling in the garden. Leaping 
into action, the martial artist headed directly toward the source 
of the noise. 
  He was ready to attack the one standing behind the bush until 
he realized who it was. 
  "Couldn't sleep?" she said. 
  Ranma nodded. "Yeah. Had that same dream again. Kinda sucks." 
  The woman in the shadows nodded in understanding. "You want to 
take a walk? You know, walk it off?" 
  He smiled. Of course he would; he did it every night with her. 
  "Where did you have in mind this time?" Ranma asked, smiling. 
  The woman shrugged. "I don't know... but I think a quick run to 
the bridge would do for a start!" 
  Ranma watched Ukyo leap over the wall, then chased after. 
  Seiryu's ghost was a moron, he thought. 

  The slow rush of water in the man-made river below was the only 
sound one could hear that night. Occasionally, while you stared 
up at the pale moon, you could hear the slight chirps of nocturnal 
insects. Sometimes, you could even see them. 
  All that and more, until another sound broke the night. 
  Ranma and Ukyo, alone in the night, clomped loudly in the 
streets, huffing and puffing in their little race. The bridge 
spanning across the river was the goal, and Ranma was pulling out 
ahead, even though Ukyo had a head start. 
  Ranma slowed his pace as he celebrated victory upon setting his 
feet on the cement bridge, only to be eating the bridge a second 
later. He felt the weight of Ukyo's body on top of him, the girl 
having tackled him. 
  "What'd you do that for?" Ranma yelled, although he didn't mean 
to sound angry. He was having too much fun for that. 
  "Just like the good 'ol days, eh?" he heard her say. Ranma felt 
her weight lightening, then turned to sit up. 
  He sighed. "Just like the old days," he repeated. "I feel like a 
kid again." 
  Ukyo sat down next to him. "So... now what?" 
  Ranma shook his head. "How should I know? I need to catch my 
breath first." 
  But in truth the martial artist did not want to ruin the moment. 
Like many other things in life, Ranma wished this part of his 
relationship with Ukyo never changed. It was always when someone 
somehow brought up the arranged marriage that the problems usually 
started, and Ranma hated when that happened. 
  Perhaps.... 
  "Hey, stupid!" Ukyo said, waving her hand back and forth in front 
of Ranma's face. "Earth to Ranma! Say something!" 
  Ranma snapped out of his reverie. "Huh? You say something?" 
  The okonomiyaki chef giggled. "You're not thinking to hard, 
are you?" 
  "Nah," lied Ranma, "nothing important." 
  "C'mon," insisted Ukyo, "you've had it rough since the last 
fight, so you really oughta relax a bit, y'know?" 
  He stared at her in confusion. "Come to think of it...." 
  "All that stuff!" interrupted the girl. "Nemesis' revival and 
banishment, Kuno dying and rising from the dead, Mousse dying and 
rising from the dead...." 
  "Stop it," Ranma said sternly. 
  "Oh, just relax!" pouted Ukyo. "Don't get so worked about it." 
  "Well, now that you mention it, I can't seem to remember what 
was bothering me about it," admitted Ranma. 
  "See!" The brightness flowed back into the okonomiyaki chef. 
"There you go!" 
  Ranma couldn't help but smile. Maybe she's right. 
  Suddenly, Ukyo's head jerked to alert, her eyes watching something 
off in the distance. Turning quietly to Ranma, she said, "Look at 
the time! I think you'd better head on back; I gotta open the 
shop soon and all." 
  "Really?" he asked. "I didn't think we were gone long." 
  "You'd better get back before Akane misses you." 
  "Yeah... Akane." 
  Silently waving good-bye, Ranma ran back in the direction of the 
Tendo household, while Ukyo ran off in the other direction. 

  Only moments after both teens disappeared into the night, 
another figure stepped out onto the bridge. In the same moonlight 
that illuminated the city the woman's features could be made out 
easily, and no one would mistake her for being anything other than 
a Shinto priestess. 
  She was tall for a woman, as tall as a man, with a thin, lithe 
frame. She carried a wooden rod in her left hand, a glorified dowel 
rod with paper streamers attached to the top for the purpose of 
warding evil spirits. She wore a high-peaked cap, dark and plain 
save for a single symbol displayed near her forehead, which 
resembled a turtle with two snakes coming out of its shell, one to 
each side. Her wooden sandals clacked against the bridge loudly, 
but she was not interested in being silent, not anymore. 
  She threw down her warding wand in anger and frustration, 
clenching a fist with her other hand. 
  "Another time, then!" she vowed. 

  Mousse hated sitting in a wheelchair. 
  Even without his heavy glasses, sitting back against the seat, 
the martial artist knew it was Tofu who was at the desk, talking on 
the telephone, talking with a patient, it sounded like. He knew 
Shampoo had left on her 'break,' one of many since her self- 
induced punishment. Mousse chuckled to himself softly, celebrating 
victory in at least one department. 
  Thiss will be too easy, he thought. 
  He sat, with wheels locked, in short-length clothes, with both 
legs bound to the chair-- a precaution, Mousse knew, because he 
had tried to utilize all of them in the past. He was denied his 
long robes, for Shampoo realized almost too late that Mousse could 
hide a butter knife easily in them. Though he was almost completely 
paralyzed when he first came to Tofu's office, both he and Shampoo 
realized quickly that Mousse had somehow found the determination 
to struggle with the paralysis, and though he could not get far 
out onto the street, both knew he would try again. And, even in the 
chair, Mousse had tried to escape. 
  For the first time Mousse was glad they denied him his glasses 
as well. Although they saw the glasses as a potential weapon 
(Shampoo knew all-too well what Mousse could make weapons out of), 
Mousse saw it as a crutch for his other senses-- particularly the 
sense of hearing. 
  As with the bat that relies on hearing, so does Mousse. 
  Sounds reflected off objects in waves, and, with the proper amount 
of reflections, Mousse could spatially-imagine the room in his 
mind. He judged he was a fair distance from the desk, from the 
sound of Tofu tapping a pencil against the desktop-- much farther 
than his eyesight told him. Mousse had to make a few sounds of 
his own to make out where the walls of the office were relative 
from his seated position, from tapping against the chair to 
offering short bursts of fake coughs in certain directions. 
  And yet, the crippled martial artist would have liked nothing 
more than to have a better eyesight. 
  With no small effort Mousse slowly slid his right hand down 
behind him, looking for that small opening that he made in the 
seating earlier. Knowing he had little time, the martial artist 
quickly reached down to the stop on the right wheel, and quickly 
removed it. He pulled his hand back up before Tofu could notice. 
  He hoped. 
  But Tofu apparently never noticed this, absorbed in his phone 
conversation. Good. 
  Mousse smiled to himself, glad he wouldn't have to resort to 
his backup plan. Without bothering to hide his actions, he reached 
over to the left wheel and removed the stop. 
  Containing his elation, Mousse rolled both wheels carefully, but 
caught the slight clinking sound behind him. 
  Yes, Shampoo, he thought, you are clever. 
  Not only had Shampoo stopped the wheels of the chair, she also 
attached a chain to it somewhere in back. 
  Why hadn't I heard the chain earlier? he wondered. Well, doesn't 
matter... it's just another obstacle in my way. And each obstacle 
overcome is another small victory for Mousse. 
  And all small victories add-up. 
  Mentally chastising Shampoo for her carelessness, Mousse reached 
his hand behind the chair, feeling for the chain. He grabbed the 
cold links, and slowly but quietly ran his hand down to where it 
was attached to the chair. 
  Padlocked, he thought with a sigh. And no pick.... Perhaps 
it's time for a different approach. 
  Slowly, Mousse rolled the wheelchair backward, alternating one 
hand holding the chain and the other rolling the wheel, turning 
wheels one after another, left and right. He guessed the chain must 
be about half a meter or less long. 
  He froze in his tracks when he heard Tofu hang-up the phone. 
  Shit, Mousse thought, I was so absorbed in my task that I forgot 
all about him. 
  Tofu sighed from his desk, followed by two slight poundings 
against wood. 
  No, he wasn't looking my way; he just put his elbows on the desk. 
Good... frustration is good... for me. 
  And, as expected, Tofu got another phone call. 
  Smiling visibly, Mousse resumed in his task, until the chain went 
completely slack in his hand. 
  He felt the other end of the chain, and knew it was bolted to 
the floor. Leaning back against the chair, Mousse ran his right 
hand over the square-shaped fasten of the chain. 
  Each corner was screwed down with poorly tightened screws-- for 
Mousse, at least. Though any normal man would have severe 
difficulty even turning the screws, Mousse was no ordinary man. 
  After all, the martial artist had no intention of unscrewing the 
fasten. 
  Wishing he had been working out for the past couple of weeks, 
Mousse found himself out of shape as he tugged against the chain. 
He cursed his weakened body and his injuries, feeling the sweat 
drip down from his forehead, trying with all his power to pull 
the chain out from the floor. 
  No, he thought, it will NOT end like this. Not after all the 
plans.... 
  His mind surged with emotion, unwilling memories rushing into 
his brain like a flash flood. He tried to push thoughts of 
Mother out of his mind. He tried to push out thoughts of his 
two disciples out of his mind. He tried to push out the thoughts 
of the brutal murder of Father at the hands of the Ford.... 
  But, he hardly had the will to push out thoughts of his enemy. 
Like brushfire these new thoughts swept over the old, the good, 
the familiar... and in its place.... 
  He gritted his teeth hard as he thought of Shampoo, remembering 
how he wasted his life chasing after an impossible dream. He 
remembered the feeling he had been getting in the past months of 
finally succeeding. And then, he remembered being run-through. 
  He pulled harder, remembering Ranma Saotome leaving him behind 
to die. An enemy who once gave him sympathy even if he was an 
enemy, and yet, this time, he turned his back. He turned his back. 
  But, neither of his enemies previous compared to.... 
  "GGGGGGGRRRRAAAAAHHHH!!!!" 
  Tofu dropped his phone in alarm, in the moment that Mousse 
pulled the bolted chain from the floor with all his might and fury. 
  In his anger, Mousse swung the chain around over his head, 
keeping Tofu from coming any closer. "Get me my glasses!" he 
snarled. 
  "M...Mousse," Tofu said, his voice wavering, "put the chain down." 
  Realizing his request would go unanswered, Mousse threw the 
piece of floor the chain was attached to at the acupuncturist. 
  Mousse heard a loud crash before him, followed by a loud groan. 
Pulling the chain back to his person, Mousse made his way to the 
door, and threw it open. 
  In his previous escape attempts Mousse memorized the layout of 
Tofu's office, and wheeled in the direction of the exit. 
  Smashing through the front door, Mousse stifled the urge to 
raise his arms in triumph. 
  "Going somewhere?" 
  The martial artist forced the wheelchair to come to a halt as he 
recognized the voice of the woman. "It almost didn't work." 
  "But it did," replied the woman, as she restored Mousse's 
eyesight. "Poor old Doctor had to put up with Chika and Aya's 
calls." She laughed. 
  Mousse adjusted his recovered glasses carefully, and fixed his 
gaze on the seraph who had helped him two weeks ago, when he had 
been abandoned. "So, now what are we going to do?" 
  The seraph said, "First thing is first. We must get you out of 
here, and get you back into shape. Second, we need to prepare for 
our third item." 
  He turned to look back at the acupuncturist's office with a 
longing look in his eyes. "But... my weapons...." 
  "We will have to get them later." 
  "My claws...." 
  "LATER!" 
  Sighing in defeat, Mousse conceded to the seraph's point. One 
small defeat, but it was one that would be remedied later. 
  Kodachi leaped behind Mousse's wheelchair, and sped him out 
into the streets to the waiting van. 

  Ranma opened his eyes with his face plastered to the wall. He 
yelped in pain. 
  "We're going to be late for school!" Akane cried, throwing 
Ranma's clothes on top of him. "Don't you know what time it is?" 
  He blinked himself awake, stifling a yawn. He rolled over in 
bed, reaching out for the clock without looking. 
  In a blur of motion, Ranma and Akane were out the door. 
  Nabiki watched the couple rush off from the front door, shaking 
her head. "He gets later every day." Perhaps it was time to do 
some work of her own. 

  Shampoo knew something was wrong, and her suspicions were 
confirmed when she found the front door to Tofu's office demolished. 
  With quick steps, tensing herself for a possible battle, the 
Chinese Amazon burst into the office. 
  "Hey, Shampoo!" 
  She stopped, recognizing the voice of Tofu instantly. Scanning 
the room carefully, Shampoo could not help but note that the 
wheelchair, Mousse, AND the chain that bolted them both down, were 
all gone. 
  Grabbing Tofu by the shirt, she screamed, "Where is Mousse?!" 
  Tofu put his hands up in the air. "I don't know! He pulled the 
chain out of the floor and beaned me with it." 
  Letting go of the acupuncturist, Shampoo wished throttling Tofu 
would make her feel better. Mousse has made several attempts to 
escape the past couple of weeks, but never succeeded, until now. 
  She had no idea what in the world he was going to do, but if he 
died, her ticket back home went with him. 
  Silently, Shampoo stepped past Tofu, wandering in the general 
direction of her room. She curled her fingers around the handle of 
the sai tied to her belt, as if it would give her the clairvoyance 
to find Mousse. 
  When she pushed the door of her room open, clairvoyance was the 
last thing she got. 
  The room was no larger than any of the other rooms in the 
building-- a square space with one window looking out into the 
streets and beyond, a bed for patients, and assorted pictures and 
greenery. When her great-grandmother left for China, Shampoo 
retained little belongings, only keeping a few sets of clothes 
and jewelry, and her favorite weapons. Two unremarkable chests 
rest at the opposing end, near the window, which held those 
belongings. The third, under the bed, however, held Mousse's 
belongings-- all of them. 
  She untied the sai from her belt, and held it up to eye level. 
"Mousse is gone," Shampoo told it. "What now?" 
  Although most people would think talking to your own weapon was 
the sign of the obsessed, Shampoo hardly counted among them, as 
the sai glowed a soft, pale blue. 
  She heard in her mind, He has no reason to die now. 
  The Chinese Amazon blinked in surprise. "When? How long?!" 
  Ever since the priest visited him a couple weeks back. 
  The priest, Shampoo thought. Nakamura... the church freak who was 
going around town trying to convert everybody all of a sudden. Yes, 
he did visit Mousse a little after we moved in, but he wouldn't 
let me be there when he talked to the upstart male. 
  Could Mousse have converted? 
  "That doesn't help much," she pointed out. "I need to find him 
NOW." 
  Patience, the weapon told her. He cannot do anything without his 
weapons. 
  The weapons... Shampoo forgot about Mousse's confiscated arsenal. 
She spotted the chest where the martial artist's belongings were 
stored, and it appeared untouched. 
  He cannot do anything without those weapons, continued the 
glowing weapon, and besides, he is in no physical condition to 
wield them. He will try to rebuild himself, then return. 
  Shampoo nodded, understanding the logic the weapon presented to 
her. Mousse was a man who prided his body; the cripple she gave 
him was an obvious wound to his pride. While all the doctors who 
saw him believed Mousse may never be able to function normally 
again, Shampoo knew Mousse would never take that as an answer. 
He WILL train himself until he's back to normal again... if not 
better than normal. 
  Such was the way of stubborn male pride. 
  There are other tasks to perform, the weapon said, now that 
you have secured your freedom. 
  "Freedom?" Shampoo repeated to herself. 
  No Mousse to watch over. 
  "That's right!" 
  Now... the parts must become whole. You need to find the parts. 
  "Parts? What parts? Stop with stupid riddles!" 
  Find Tomo. He will be the first and easiest. Find him, and we 
may continue. 

  "And he's been getting worse every day," Akane complained to 
her friends, glancing over at Ranma at another table, playing 
cards with the guys. 
  Ever since that fateful day two weeks ago, Akane tried her best 
to be patient with Ranma, but two weeks of the same behavior was 
too much to put up with. She knew how hard it was to lose someone 
close, and although they never looked it Ranma took Ukyo's death 
quite personally, never explaining to anyone why. For the first 
few days Ranma blamed himself, often claiming that he killed her. 
Akane tried her best to get his spirits up, but nothing seemed to 
work. 
  That phase only lasted a few days; since then, Ranma outright 
denies that Ukyo is dead. He even goes so far as to refuse to 
refer to that event in any way that would indicate that Ukyo never 
came back from the battle. It was as if he forgot that Ukyo 
ever died. 
  After mentioning it to Tofu, the doctor told Akane that Ranma 
was likely in denial. With that knowledge in mind she tried her 
best to show Ranma what part of the past events were reality and 
what parts were fabricated. She took him down to where Ucchan's 
Okonomiyaki was once located, which was now owned by one Hayato 
Myojin. Ranma, in his delusion, flatly denied that it was any 
place other than an okonomiyaki shop, even when presented takoyaki 
to eat. 
  It was also during this time Ranma seemed to get less sleep each 
night, even when he turned in early. In result, the delusional 
martial artist never woke up early in the morning anymore, and 
Akane had to force him up every morning. She had no idea what 
could cause this, and Tofu could offer no explanation, either. 
  She took another bite of her sandwich when the chatter of the 
lunch area was brought to silence. All heads turned to the door, 
where three new figures stood, commanding an attentive presence. 
  No black rose petals stormed from the hallway as Akane expected. 
  Kodachi Kuno entered the lunch room, head held up high, full of 
confidence. She surveyed the room as if she ruled it, taking slow, 
deliberate steps that echoed throughout the room. Her two followers 
trailed behind in a similar manner, careful to keep an appropriate 
distance from their leader. 
  Akane rubbed her eyes, still unused to the sight of Kuno's weird 
sister wearing her own school's uniform. 
  The girl on Kodachi's right was a round-faced girl with shoulder 
length hair Akane knew to be Chikatomo Hisho, or simply Chika, as 
she insisted. Since she, too, was a refugee from St. Hebereke 
school, few students knew anything about her other than her 
work-- her field of specialty was in media arts. Her most visible 
work was made public to the students of Furinkan long before her 
transferal-- a couple years back Kodachi had her doctor a number 
of photos in order to win a fight with her brother. Rumor has it that 
she has the entire school rigged to her secret monitoring room, 
and, as Kodachi's right-hand man, added to the Kuno girl's 
presence. 
  To Kodachi's left was a wild-eyed girl slightly taller than 
Kodachi. Her face, to the contrast of Chika, was tall and thin, and 
she had her hair tied back in a pony tail. Students often referred 
her as Kodachi's left hand, but never knew what she did exactly. 
Her name is Ayame Mishima; judging from her figure and expression, 
Akane guessed she was probably one of Kodachi's gymnastics 
lieutenants. 
  If there was anything the students of Furinkan High learned 
about the refugees of rival school St. Hebereke, it was that Kodachi 
Kuno, like her brother before her, was no one to cross. Even the 
principal, her father, was terrified of her, and went out of his 
way (his UNUSUAL way) to make her happy. Of course, this hardly 
meant the teachers and instructors gave her a very wide berth; 
Kodachi was skilled and intelligent in her own right, and quite 
often visibly resented preferential treatment. 
  All eyes watched the three girls proceed through the lunch room; 
those who stood in the way parted before them. 

  Shampoo watched all this from her perch on the tree branch, 
holding the glowing weapon close to her body, ready to pounce at 
a moment's notice. 
  Tomo is here, the weapon told her. Get ready to strike. 
  The Chinese Amazon nodded wordlessly. Though she hardly had any 
idea which one in the room was Tomo, Shampoo knew there would be 
some indication if she judged the reactions correctly. 
  She waited for several moments, watching Kodachi and her cronies 
take seats at a table made empty just for them. A slight breeze 
picked up, blowing Shampoo's hair into her eyes. Snarling in 
annoyance, she threw her hair back over her shoulder. 
  Whenever you're ready, the weapon said. 
  "I'll never be ready!" she hissed. 
  Taking a deep breath, Shampoo vaulted from the tree branch, 
aiming for the window. 
  She crashed into the room with a storm of shattered glass. 
Shampoo tucked her body into a ball, rolling upon impact with the 
ground, then leaping up to her feet, the sai raised. 
  Panic seized the occupants as they scattered away from the new 
arrival. 
  "Tomo!" the Chinese Amazon cried. "Come now!" 
  In that instant, blank stares were made in return, but someone 
was making a run for it, Shampoo knew. Darting her eyes to the 
door on her left side, she spied one lone girl escaping. 
  "Shampoo!" she heard someone cry, but she ignored him. 
  With surprising speed Shampoo was out in the hallway, her hunter 
eyes locking onto the girl who was halfway down the hall to the 
exit. 
  Too easy, she thought. 
  It was her last thought before someone tackled her. 
  "Shampoo!" Ranma cried. "What d'you think you're doing?!" 
  The Chinese Amazon planted a good kick into Ranma's gut while 
getting to her feet. "Shampoo's business!" she screamed. 
  Her prey was no farther than before. The hunter gave chase, 
leaving Ranma behind. 
  She heard the pounding of the girl's feet against the floor, 
the echoes reverberating loudly, bouncing off walls. She smelled 
the fear the girl felt. She saw her run into the exit door in 
her panic. She saw her fall flat on her back. 
  And then, she was standing over her. 
  "Now what?" Shampoo said, holding the sai in front of her face. 
  But, before the weapon could answer, it was suddenly out of 
her hands. Her eyes watched helplessly as the weapon sailed over 
her head, and into the hands of Kodachi and her ribbon. 
  "Dear me," the gymnast said, "You would not use such a crude 
device on her, would you?" 
  "Give that back!" Shampoo snarled, cracking her knuckles. 
  Kodachi smirked, throwing the sai over her shoulder. "You want 
it? Get through me, first, darling!" 
  "Hold it, you two!" Ranma cried, suddenly between the two girls. 
He held the discarded sai in his hand. 
  "Give that to me!" Shampoo demanded, pointing to the weapon. 
  "Why?" he asked. "I can't let you kill her." 
  He raised the sai to eye level. "Come to think of it, this does 
look familiar...." 
  "It's something Shampoo would use, alright!" Ukyo told him, 
looking over Ranma's shoulder. 
  "Yeah, I guess so," agreed Ranma. 
  "So what is it?!" Kodachi demanded impatiently. 
  Ranma shrugged. "Just another magical Amazon trinket, I guess." 
  "Stupid!" Shampoo cried. "You know where it come from!" 
  "She's trying to use her charms again," Ukyo said. 
  "Stop lying, Shampoo!" Ranma yelled. "Why can't you just give 
up?" 
  "Tell that to weapon!" the Chinese Amazon yelled back. 
  Suddenly, Ranma heard in his mind, Don't try to stop us. 
  "Stop who?!" he cried. 
  "Who are you talking to?" asked Kodachi. 
  "Don't listen to that voice!" insisted Ukyo. 
  No, the weapon said, don't listen to anyone but me! 
  "Shut up!" he screamed. 
  "What's going on?" Chika said, sitting on her knees, rubbing 
the back of her head. She looked up at Shampoo, and immediately 
backed herself to the door in terror. 
  "Don't go anywhere, Tomo!" Shampoo snarled over her shoulder. 
  Chika was too afraid to ignore the command. 
  "I thought you hated that name!" Kodachi yelled. 
  Ranma, oblivious to the conversation around him, heard in his 
head, Get rid of Tomo. 
  "No... who?!" 
  Tomo. 
  "Who the hell is Tomo?!" 
  "Who are YOU talking to?" demanded Kodachi. 
  "Don't listen to the weapon!" Ukyo insisted. 
  "I'm trying!" Ranma bit back in reply. 
  The sai glowed in the martial artist's hand. 
  He screamed, clutching the sides of his head in pain. 
  And then, the glow of the weapon died, and Ranma collapsed to the 
floor, unconscious. 
  Shampoo and Kodachi bent to his side, just as Akane and several 
other students arrived, Chika forgotten. 
  "What happened?" Akane asked, staring down at Ranma, worried. 
  The Chinese Amazon reached to where the sai had fallen, and 
raised it to her ear, as if waiting to hear something. 
  However, this time, there was nothing. Nothing at all. 
  "The dragon returned," she said simply. 

  There was silence, but it was broken only by a heartbeat. 

  Boom-boom. 
  Alive... dead... alive... dead.... What difference does it make? 
  Boom-boom. 
  Tomo... get rid of Tomo, before it's too late. 
  Boom-boom. 
  Don't listen to him, Ranchan! See, I'm still here! 
  Boom-boom. 
  Destroy her if you must, but get rid of her nonetheless. 
  Boom-boom. 
  Who am I supposed to listen to? 
  Boom-boom. 
  Ranchan! It's me! Don't listen to him! 
  Boom-boom. 
  Lies! More lies! Why do you succumb to Tomo so easily? 
  Boom-boom. 
  Who's Tomo? 
  Boom-boom. 
  He's making it up! Fight it, Ranchan! 
  Boom-boom-boom. 
  She's right. You're such a loser, thinking you could do this. 
  Boom-boom-boom. 
  I've faced this kind of punishment before; it won't work again. 
  Boom-boom-boom. 
  And you are incredibly gullible. Has her death little meaning? 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  She never died! Ukyo's right here, with me! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  .... 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Answer me, whatever you are! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  .... 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Your lies and deceptions are undone! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  ...you're wrong. 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  W...what?! What are you talking about? 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Okay, maybe you're right, a bit, but you're still wrong. 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Tomo has already won, I see. But your friend is still dead. 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Who the hell is Tomo?! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  So long as you carry her on in this facade, Tomo wins. 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Ukyo...? 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Answer me, Ukyo! What is he talking about?! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Ra... Ranma.... 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Who are you, and why are you, of all people, here?! 
  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom. 
  Miboshi, you are good, very good. 

  The pounding of Ranma's heart forced him back into control. 
  Red mist clouded his mind's eye, obscuring two figures in 
shadow. Even without visual contact, he knew who they were. 
  And then, the mists parted, revealing the struggling titans to 
the martial artist. One, on the ground, breathing heavily, 
appeared similar in appearance to Ukyo, and the other, standing 
over her, was decked in ancient priest robes. Although the face 
was unrecognizable, Ranma recognized the emblem displayed 
prominently on his hat: a coiled serpent colored in verying 
shades of blue. 
  The symbol for Seiryu. 
  "Why?" asked Ranma, confused. 
  The priest turned toward Ranma. "I am called Miboshi." Gesturing 
to the fallen Ukyo, he introduced, "You already know Tomo." 
  Blankness fell over Ranma's face. "Why?" he repeated. 
  Tomo smiled. "You miss her." 
  "Yes I do, so what? What gives you the right to do this to me?" 
  "You miss her," Tomo said, "so I thought I could do you a favor 
and ease the pain. You see, I miss her, too." 
  Ranma's thoughts flashed briefly to his previous nightly 
excursions with the false Ukyo, then focused back on the now. 
"Kinda elaborate, all your tricks. You're no ordinary guy." 
  "That's because we're two of the spirits of Seiryu," Miboshi 
explained. Before Ranma could interrupt, he continued, "As you know, 
the constellation Seiryu is made up of seven stars. In turn, 
when a man, or woman, takes up the mantle of Seiryu, he or she 
must master the star gems." 
  "Seven star gems with spirit guardians?" 
  "Yes. When the would-be Seiryu masters a star gem, he or she 
absorbs their power, and we become a part of them. We help define 
Seiryu, but it is the host who is the true Seiryu." 
  "Ukyo was the host," Tomo added. 
  "In the unique circumstances of her death, however," Miboshi 
continued, "our spirits could not find star gems to inhabit. 
In normal circumstances we would have found our ways back to the 
gems...." 
  "Because you're from the future, and the star gems are already 
inhabited," Ranma guessed. "You couldn't go anywhere." 
  The priest nodded. "There is none to do but find one another, 
and restore Seiryu. Our Seiryu. Otherwise, there is nothing." 
  "Restore Seiryu? Does that mean...?" 
  "Perhaps," Tomo offered, "but we don't know that for sure." 
  "Tomo doesn't want to leave you," Miboshi said sternly. "He 
wants to wallow in your pain for the rest of his pitiful 
existence." 
  Ranma stared at Tomo angrily. "I don't think so." 
  Turning to Miboshi, he asked, "Alright, so you won. Anyway, I 
wanna know why Tomo chose me, of all people." 
  "He didn't," answered the priest. "Seiryu was destroyed, and 
all afterward was purely chance." 
  "And, if it was purely chance," Tomo said, "then there is little 
chance of finding the other five so easily." 
  "That's because you give up too easily!" Miboshi yelled, 
grabbing Tomo by the neck. 
  "Hey, hey, stop it!" Ranma said. 
  Both spirits stared at the martial artist. 
  "Look, if there's any chance that helping you guys could... 
well.... Anyway, I think I can help you guys out." 
  "Really?" Tomo asked hopefully. 
  "Just one thing... get out of my head." 

  His eyes blinked open to the sight of Akane, Shampoo, and Kodachi 
staring down at him. 
  Immediately he sat up, and immediately regretted it. 
  Over the pain in his head, he said weakly, "What happened?" 
  "You just collapsed in the hallway," Kodachi said. 
  "Ranma, what just happened?" asked Akane. 
  Rubbing the back of his head, he answered, "Tell ya about it 
later...." He scanned the room, a familiar sight, as it was the 
school nurse's office. He noticed the only other occupant of the 
room, seated by the door. "Who's that?" 
  Kodachi nodded her head over to the seated girl, who was 
obviously nervous. "Chika Hisho." 
  "ChikaTOMO Hisho," Shampoo corrected. 
  "Don't call me that," Chika whimpered, seemingly scared. 
  Ranma's face drew a blank. "So?" 
  "Miboshi say get Tomo, she answer," Shampoo explained, holding 
up Seiryu's weapon for the martial artist to see. "Strange, now 
that you up, he back." 
  The weapon glowed softly in response. 
  Ranma snorted. "Miboshi...." 
  "Chika," Akane asked, "why did you run, anyway? If you don't 
like being called 'Tomo,' why'd you respond to it?" 
  For a few heartbeats, the girl seemed to ignore Akane, but after 
a deep breath, she answered, "That's what the Yakuza call me. 
That's what I let them call me. You know just like everyone else 
I hate the last part of my name." 
  "Yakuza?" Kodachi repeated in confusion. "You're not one of them, 
are you?" 
  Chika shook her head. "Of course not. But when they ask for 
someone of my skill, they look for Tomo. I don't tell them that 
Tomo is a girl, or that Tomo isn't really my name. Part of it, 
yes, but not the name I like." She laughed nervously. "I'm kinda 
famous with them...." 
  Suddenly, she threw herself on her knees before Kodachi, tears 
streaming from her eyes. "PLEASE!!!! DON'T TELL THEM!!!" 
  Kodachi blinked in confusion. "What?" 
  "They'll kill me if they find out who I am!" she blurted. 
  The gymnast cast a confused look to Ranma, then Akane, and then 
Shampoo, suddenly understanding why Chika ran from the Chinese 
Amazon. She looked back down at Chika, and said, "For whatever 
reason it was, you are safe with us." 
  But those words did little to stop the waterworks, however, 
this time it was tears of joy. 
  Ranma slapped his face. "This is pointless." 
  Shampoo resisted the urge to throw Chika out the door. "Big 
crybaby!" 
  It was then that Kodachi took a full step back away from 
Shampoo, her arms before her, a worried expression passing her 
face. "I am not your friend!" 
  "What?" Akane asked, curious. 
  "You hardly know what she can do angry!" Kodachi said. "Keep 
your association with the witch at a fair distance." 
  "I'm not afraid of little girls!" Shampoo said confidently. 
  Kodachi shrugged. "I hope you have little pride in yourself." 
  "Can't see how much worse she could be than the school observer," 
Ranma noted dryly. 
  "Alright, then," Akane said, changing the subject, "Ranma... 
Shampoo? Aren't you going to tell us what's going on?" 
  Shampoo snorted, holding up the sai. "Ask him." 
  Brushing the tears from her eyes, Chika stood to study the 
weapon. "It doesn't look like it talks." 
  "In head it does!" the Chinese Amazon insisted. 
  Softly, the sai glowed its familiar pale blue. 
  "We are indeed an entity, Chika," it said. 
  All save Ranma and Shampoo jumped in surprise, and while Shampoo 
was more than ready to hear the weapon speak, she was surprised 
to hear the 'we' part. 
  "Y... you can talk!" Chika stuttered. 
  "Who are you?" asked Akane. 
  "Miboshi and Tomo, at your service," replied the weapon. "Your 
two friends here know already." 
  Shampoo's eyes narrowed at Ranma. "You were Tomo?" 
  Ranma shook his head. "Not anymore." 
  "Both have agreed to help us find the other spirit guardians 
of Seiryu," continued the weapon. "We desire to be complete once 
more, and we need your help." 
  Akane cast a glance at Ranma, a look that said, "I'm talking 
with you later." 
  To the weapon, she asked, "How?" 
  "We can detect the presence of the others," the weapon replied. 
"Don't worry, they are all within the local area; they could not 
have gone far." 
  Kodachi blinked in confusion. "What is this... thing talking 
about?" 
  The weapon hardly responded, but it was Shampoo who gave the 
answer. "The revival of the blue dragon." 
  Ranma grabbed Akane's shoulders firmly. "If we can do this, 
we can get Ukyo back!" 
  His wife hardly seemed happy. "What makes you say that?" 
  "If we reconstruct Seiryu's personality," he said, "we can get 
Ukyo back!" 
  Kodachi shook her head. "I will have no part of this business! 
I hardly believe that such a goal is in our best interests." She 
folded her arms. 
  "Besides," added Chika, "we've got stuff of our own to do." 
  "Like what?" Shampoo asked. "More whine and complain?" 
  It was then the gymnast jabbed a finger pointing at the Chinese 
Amazon's nose threateningly. "You have no idea what this means 
to me! If you are so insistent on chasing after a fantasy, go 
right ahead, but as for me, I will do something productive in 
the REAL world!" 
  Turning to Chika, she said, "Let us leave these fools to their 
fool's venture." 
  Nodding quietly, the girl followed Kodachi out of the office, 
leaving Ranma, Akane, and Shampoo alone. 
  "Look, Akane," Ranma said, almost pleading, "I know it doesn't 
make much sense now, but if there's even a small chance we could 
get Ukyo back, then I think it's worth it!" 
  "Ranma..." Akane said, a bit surprised. "D... does this really 
mean a lot to you? Don't you think you should let her... rest?" 
  But her husband seemed to ignore the question. "Starting today, 
I'm going to find the other five of these spirit guys, and after 
that, everything will be okay!" 
  Akane turned to Shampoo for help. "C'mon... tell him." 
  But the Chinese Amazon shook her head. "Ranma do it for 
Spatula girl if he want. Shampoo is doing it for her own good, 
because she inherit the weapon." 
  That can't be all of it, Akane noted. Yet, she could hardly 
think of any good reason to keep Ranma from his latest obsession. 
  Sighing in defeat, she said, "Look, Ranma, if it means THAT 
much to you... I guess I'm behind you." 

  The watcher brushed her hair out of her face, wishing the 
breeze would die down. From her position in the tree branch, one 
not unlike what Shampoo stood on earlier in the day, the girl 
in the priestess outfit watched Ranma, Akane, and Shampoo with 
predatorial eyes. She adjusted her headband carefully, hoping 
it would help keep her hair away from her face. Yet, it had 
hardly worked before. 
  Silently, she reminded herself to go find her hat when she 
finally got down from the tree. 
  These spirits were very clever, she knew. So far, each and 
every one of them managed to elude her skillful grasp, but they 
never could escape her watchful eye. Now, here, she found two 
of them, living in the same vessel, preying on the same victim. 
  Well, that will change, soon enough. There's no spirit large 
or small that was good enough to outwit Shizuka Minazuki. 
  Smiling to herself, Shizuka puffed her long, dark hair out of 
her mouth for the fourth time, cursing the wind for the fifth 
time. 
  Steadying herself to her feet, glad she took her sandals off, 
Shizuka stood ready to jump through the window, just as Shampoo 
had done earlier. But, of course, not for crude entrances, the 
priestess was already preparing a special incantation.... 
  CRRAAACCKKK!!! 
  "Oh shit," she muttered under her breath, glancing over her 
shoulder. Where the branch was attached to the tree there was 
now a large crack. 
  CRREEEEEEKKK!! 
  "Next time," Shizuka vowed, "a sturdier branch!" 
  SNAP! 


------------------------------------------------ 
Author's Notes 

  I have no idea what possessed me to write this, other than the 
fact that I felt it needed to be written. When I ended the 
extremely-long Nemesis story, I've always had other ideas in mind 
for what to do next if I ever picked up Ranma fanfiction again, 
and this is just the tip of the iceberg. 
  Yes, for those of you who didn't figure it out back in Nemesis, 
Kodachi was the one who saved Mousse's life. Think about it: Mousse 
knew his savior was female. Kodachi was brushing out blood stains 
in her smock. And she was the only one unaccounted for that night 
that could've known what was happening (there was also Seiryu, but 
she was sleeping). 
  As a side note, I created Chika long before I created Tomo. In 
fact, I was planning on using her a lot earlier in the series, but 
she only appeared for the first time in Nemesis as the bearer of 
bad news. Her character origins are quite bizarre, as I made her 
after a character in the anime (one of the extras/bystanders; same 
goes for Aya). Her background will be discussed later. 
  Tomo and Miboshi are loosely-based off their Fushigi Yuugi 
counterparts, but their origins are from the seven stars that 
make up the constellation Seiryu (that's why there's Seven Senshi 
for each god). The others are Nakago, Soi, Amiboshi, Suboshi, and 
Ashitare. 
  As for Shizuka Minazuki... we'll see. 

Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NOREPLYhotmail.com) 
http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/ranma/ranff.html 

<!-- End of File-->