The Wheel of Fire, #27: Burning Eyes 

  Written by Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NYChotmail.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 

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


  "Good news for you, Ranma," Nabiki said as she 
entered the Tendo dining room with a poster in her 
hand. 
  The entirety of the Tendo household sat around the 
table sharing breakfast that morning. Ranma, who sat 
with his back turned to Nabiki, glanced over his 
shoulder quickly. "Yeah?" 
  "It's another contest," the middle Tendo sister said. 
"And there's a free trip to China attached to it." 
  Ranma's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Right." 
  The martial artist sighed. Ever since the showdown 
at the Saint Hebereke Church everything seemed to 
change: Kuno, Mousse, and Shampoo disappeared that 
same night. Senryu Nishimura, formerly under the 
assumed name Amakusa, left on some sort of spiritual 
journey, but not before leaving Ranma both jade dragon 
earrings. Shizuka and Hokuto disappeared, too, but 
not for long; the priestess and the apprentice showed 
up the next day at the Tendo residence, and to Ranma's 
annoyance they explained everything to the others. 
  Which was why Nabiki was offering her 'help.' 
  "It's a talent show," she explained. "It's run by the 
Tokuyama Agency, who're looking for talented people, as 
usual. You don't even have to be a girl for this!" 
  "Sounds too good to be true," Ranma replied, 
directing his attentions back to his meal. 
  "But it's not something you can just ignore," Akane 
argued. "Winning a talent show should be simple for a 
guy like you." 
  Soun and Genma nodded in agreement. 
  "The heir to the Tendo dojo should be very talented 
indeed," Soun encouraged. 
  "It'll be a nice gesture," Nodoka added, appealing to 
Hokuto's slow death. 
  "Uggh," Ranma groaned, "I'll give it a shot." 
  "Good for you!" Nabiki exclaimed, splashing a bucket 
of water on the martial artist. 
  Shaking off the water on her head, Ranma was up on 
her feet, turned toward Nabiki. "What'd you do that 
for?!" 
  Nabiki smirked. "As your personal manager and 
arranger, I only said you didn't HAVE to be a girl. 
I'm saying you have to for what I've got in mind." 
  "And what would that be?!" demanded soaked Ranma. 

  Kodachi stared at the odd, bird-like statue sitting 
in the corner of the dark antique shop. Its eyes were 
far too large to belong to any sort of bird, yet the 
squat statue looked vaguely familiar nonetheless. 
  "Ah, Kuno..." the old shopkeeper muttered, scratching 
his chin. Adjusting the glasses resting on his nose, 
he said, "Yep, came in here couple nights ago. What of 
it?" 
  "I am his sister," Kodachi replied, bowing 
respectfully to the shopkeeper. "I understand this is 
the very shop he purchased a Phoenix Egg from?" 
  "Mmmhmm," affirmed the shopkeeper. "Not that I 
believe in such things, mind you... but that's the kind 
of stuff he wanted." 
  "What exactly did he purchase the previous visit?" 
she asked. When Tatewaki left for America a couple days 
ago the younger Kuno noticed that he was taking an old- 
looking tome along with him. It was hardly a bother to 
figure out where he got it from, and Kodachi was happy 
to know that her guess was correct. 
  The merchant shrugged. "He bought some dusty-old 
book about the Phoenix Sword, not that I believe in 
that nonsense. It's supposed to be some kind of manual 
left by previous owners of the Phoenix Egg." 
  "Oh really?" Kodachi raised an eyebrow. "What were 
the precise contents?" 
  Waving a finger in her direction, the merchant said, 
"You're a clever one! I've got an abridged version, 
too." 
  Kodachi blinked in surprise as the merchant produced 
a thin, paperback book from under a table. He raised it 
up into the light, the title clearly displaying: "How 
to Use a Phoenix Sword, Abridged, 127th Edition." 
  The merchant flipped through a couple pages. "He 
wanted to know how many times he could use it before 
burning out." 
  "Give me that!" Kodachi yelled, reaching for the 
manual. 
  But the merchant was too quick, pulling the abridged 
manual out of reach. "I'm sorry, lady, but this is the 
last copy I have. I wouldn't part with it even if you 
slapped a wad of bills across my face." 
  Instead, Kodachi swung a mallet across the merchant's 
face, sending the manual up into the air. 
  "Sold!" he declared. 
  Catching the abridged manual in her hands, Kodachi 
laughed. "Well now, free is definitely a good price!" 
  Rubbing his sore cheeks, the merchant muttered, "Good 
thing I've got the 128th Edition lined up...." 


			*  *  *  *  * 

To: warlock@spielburg.org 
From: blackwidow@northspire.net 
Subject: Current Job 

He took the bait, just as we hoped. The dealings on my 
end are working smoothly, and I sincerely appreciate 
the exchange of tasks-- this is much more serviceable 
than actual flimsy cash. 

In any case I find the last bit of information you sent 
to be rather... disturbing. If you don't mind keep a 
lid on this bit; I think I can find a way to use it to 
my advantage. If the girl reacts in the manner I think 
she will, then perhaps we CAN get rid of her. 

BTW, you want to get a cup of coffee? 

- Black Widow 

-------------------------------------------------- 
"Go! Super Robot Life Form Transformers!" 
  -- Lame Title of the Week 

			*  *  *  *  * 

To: blackwidow@northspire.net 
From: warlock@spielburg.org 
Subject: Re: Current Job 

Do whatever you wish with the information. 

I prefer this method of payment much more than actual 
physical cash because it helps build customer 
relationships. Surely you understand the advantages of 
this-- one favor deserves another. It also keeps money 
in our respective accounts, barring usual expenses, of 
course. 

Feel free to join in on the action if you wish. I have 
assurances from my clients that it will not affect 
their own plans. If the subject indeed does appear as 
you say, then you should have no problems for yourself. 

P.S. I don't drink coffee. 

Have a nice day. 

- Warlock 
+-------------------------------------+ 
| Welcome to Suzie Quan's Taco Palace | 
| Would you like fries with that?     | 
+-------------------------------------+ 

			*  *  *  *  * 


  Shion sent off the reply just as his sister-in-law 
barged into his room, slamming the door open with 
enthusiastic force, and causing the hacker to jump in 
his seat. 
  Fuming with startled anger, Shion failed to decipher 
whatever it was Chika was saying. "KNOCK NEXT TIME!!" 
  Cowering for a moment, his anger was hardly enough to 
contain Chika's excitement. "There's going to be a 
talent contest!" 
  The older mercenary grimaced, his anger cooling down 
to normal. "So?" 
  "I'm thinking about entering it," she replied. "I 
think you should, too." 
  "And do what?" Shion asked, folding his arms. "Show 
them how to fake IDs?" 
  "No, I...." She caught herself. "Oh, never mind." 
  He shook his head, wishing for the millionth time 
that the girl knew how to think before getting all 
emotional about the most trivial things. Good thing it 
wasn't a spider. 
  "So what are you going to do?" Shion asked finally. 
  "Huh?" 
  "What are you going to show off as your 'talent?'" 
  "Oh, that!" Chika's eyes brightened; if they got any 
brighter they could replace a desk lamp. "Well, since 
everybody already knows how I can make cool movies, I 
was thinking of showing off one of my videos." 
  "I thought you were better known for the photos," he 
pointed out. 
  "Well, that too." 
  "And what's so 'talented' about that?" 
  "Not a whole lot of people can do it like I can!" 
  "And you think you can beat wanna-be idol singers?" 
  "You grouch!" Chika accused, giggling like a school 
girl-- not that she wasn't in the first place. "It's 
not about the winning I want." 
  "Ah," Shion said, realizing what the little mercenary 
wanted. He sat down against his seat, folding his arms 
behind his head. "So you really think some big media 
firm might see that, eh?" 
  "Mmm-hmm!" she confirmed, nodding excitedly. "This 
could be my big break!" 
  "Heh, heh," chuckled Shion. "You really think some 
big studio would want a little girl like you? One that 
isn't even out of high school yet, to boot!" 
  He knew it was entirely possible, but for some 
unexplainable reason the older mercenary felt it good 
to jab ribs. And yet Shion played it well enough that 
Chika hardly seemed to notice in her fantasies. 
  It was either playing it well, or obviousness on 
the part of the girl. 
  Perhaps it was a good thing that the contest would be 
held the next Sunday-- it would be interesting to watch 
the kid pour her soul into her best work for a week. 

  The essence of being a priestess takes great 
concentration and a center of balance, Shizuka told 
herself mentally. 
  Then again, it was still all a bunch of drivel and 
garbage, too. Every priestess or priestess in training 
at the Shrine of the Four Gods undergoes rigorous 
training and disciplining in order to determine which 
among them would be granted the right to challenge the 
seven spirit warriors of one of the Four Gods. Even 
then, whoever became the miko, or Speaker of the Gods, 
had to put up with a back seat driver for the rest of 
their natural existence. 
  Her head was hanging a few centimeters below the 
ceiling as she suspended herself in the air in a 
meditative trance. The room she called home, something 
no larger than a closet for such a small apartment, 
was bare, save for a neat pile rolled in one corner, 
which consisted of her bed roll, a couple changes of 
clothes, and a few hidden weapons. All her other 
belongings were on her person, hidden in the folds of 
her robes. 
  Shizuka clamped her eyes more tightly shut, feeling 
the pounding in her head growing in intensity. Silently 
she cursed, for the umpteenth time, her mentors back 
at the Shrine of the Four Gods. 
  A sound issued from the doorway, opening wide. 
  And breaking Shizuka's concentration. 
  She crashed head first to the floor as Hokuto 
barged into that bedroom of the Minazuki house, the 
single rope suspending her from the ceiling snapping 
free from its hook. 
  Hokuto looked around in the empty bedroom, wondering 
why anyone would try to shove everything into the 
closet and the hallway just to meditate. The boa 
constrictor, Thanatos, was also running loose somewhere 
in the house, too. She shook her head. 
  "Don't tell me you're STILL doing it upside-down?" 
she asked. 
  The priestess of Genbu slowly gathered herself, the 
blood rushing out of her head even quicker. "All a 
matter of discipline," she explained. 
  "Stupidity is more like it," Hokuto said with a 
sigh. "If mankind was meant to hang upside-down from 
ceilings God would've made us bats." 
  "Shut up," the priestess snarled, untying her feet 
from the suspending rope. There was no reason to make 
the apprentice look smart, even if Shizuka did agree 
with her words. "What do you want?" 
  Hokuto sat down on her knees, and produced a poster 
from behind her. "It's a talent show that's going to be 
held next Sunday," she said. "I shouldn't care about it 
except for the fact that the grand prize is a trip for 
two to China." 
  "And why do I care?" Shizuka asked sarcastically. 
  "It's too convenient, but if I get Ranma to China, 
and then to Jusenkyo, I can get rid of the curse." 
  Shizuka shook her head. "You're right, it's TOO 
convenient. And I've got better things to do with my 
time." 
  "But I'm going to do it anyway," Hokuto decided. "I 
think you should, too, just to increase our chances 
of...." 
  "No," the priestess said adamantly. 
  "Why not?" 
  "I only do those tricks for kids." 
  "C'mon, I'm your friend!" she pouted. 
  "You're also not thinking rationally," Shizuka 
pointed out. "That bloody fate-link thing's got you 
doing it." 
  "No it hasn't!" Hokuto yelled angrily. "I'll never 
give in to that stupid curse!" 
  "You're giving in now." 
  "NO I'M NOT!!" 
  "Kid," the priestess said, despite being Hokuto's 
junior, "I've got no idea what it's like being you, or 
being Ukyo, or whoever... but it's not you wanting to 
do this. Ranma is getting you to do it." 
  "I've still got my own choice, and I'm CHOOSING to do 
this!" 
  Shizuka sighed. Although she knew Hokuto for a 
collected time of only a couple weeks, the changes were 
becoming rapidly apparent to the priestess of Genbu. 
While she did prefer Hokuto's food over Kyoko's, it 
just didn't sit well, knowing that another girl, Ukyo, 
was quite the same in this regard. And yet, Hokuto was 
still her friend.... 
  "Fine, Kid," she said, caving-in. "Let's see what we 
can come up with." 

  He played a sorrowful tune on the recorder, his 
fingers playing over the wind instrument's holes with 
delicate mastery. 
  Sitting on the cliff toward the setting sun he lost 
himself in his music, musing on his next course of 
action. The pawns were being drawn to the edge, where 
the queen and her rooks wait to spring the trap, the 
king as bait. Pawns are killed easily in a delicate 
chess match such as this, and the musician was but one 
of the knights, traveling in odd directions, yet the 
right direction nonetheless. 
  And now movement has put him back into distance of 
the bait, the king. Not quite checkmate... not yet, but 
close. While avoiding the trickery of the queen and 
her traps it is entirely possible to eliminate the king 
with the pawns. Yet, it was extremely difficult to do 
so with but one knight to aid them. 
  No, one pawn was ready to reach the edge now-- ready 
to promote to the next piece. This pawn, he knew, would 
make a suitable queen if aided properly, a rook 
otherwise. Yet the queen was so much better, and the 
role has yet to be filled, ever since the previous 
queen was eliminated from play. 
  There were way too many pawns. 
  Another one.... The knight continued in his notes as 
he realized there was a rook left in play. Very 
straight-forward in mannerisms, the rook was ready and 
willing to go to great lengths to get to where he was 
needed. Yes, he, too, could be instrumental in the 
flourish of the queen, if only the knight could drag 
him away from the pawns. 
  Both bishops were gone, only recently removed from 
the board. The bishop was willing to move at great 
distances, like the rook, but was unwilling to step 
into certain areas. Although the pieces have changed 
much over time now the king's only protection was but a 
single knight, rook, and a whole mess of pawns. 
  Others may believe him mad for thinking of the 
situation in terms of a chess match, yet the analogy 
may well be a good one. The catch was the identity of 
the opposing king, to which the knight had no clue as 
to the identity. Yet, he felt it was close at hand, and 
when that time came the game would end. 
  He concluded his recital, bowing respectfully to the 
setting sun, his sole audience of the evening. Looking 
eastward, toward the darkness of night, the knight 
made his move. 
  Toward Tokyo. 

  "The plan unfolds to expectations," a voice said, 
scrambled by machine. 
  The receiver of the words in turn stood cloaked in 
shadow of the alley, away from the lights of the 
streets of Tokyo. While stray thugs may well get the 
jump on the two occupants of the alley both were well 
prepared. 
  "Good," said the other, using a light scrambler of 
her own. "Did you make sure to include... him?" 
  Though hidden by shadows, the hidden man nodded. "A 
simple matter to make the pieces fall in place. The 
Tokuyama Agency is still hungry and hurting after the 
loss of their biggest money-maker a few months ago. 
While they still garner a modest amount of cash from 
other ventures, they can't resist finding a big break 
again. Especially not with such a big pool of untapped 
talent. Wanna-be idol singers always win." 
  "Are you certain he truly wishes to travel to China?" 
asked the woman. 
  "He will," confirmed the informer. "Of course, by all 
accounts I hardly believe he'll actually win the 
competition. More is expected of men than women. And by 
all accounts he doesn't sing; karaoke is likely to be 
the winner of the day for both sides." 
  "Doesn't matter," the other assured him. "I just want 
him there." She produced a stack of yen and handed it 
to the informer. 
  "Ah, right on time," the informer said, slapping the 
bills against his open palm. 
  "You'd better come through for me," warned the 
woman. "Or I'll deal with you along with... him." 
  "Heh, don't sweat it; it's all up to you now. Happy 
trails." 
  Nodding wordlessly to each other the buyer and the 
informer exited at opposite ends of the alley, both 
vanishing into the night. 


Next Sunday 

  Nabiki folded her arms in satisfaction as she 
stood supervising Ranma's training in the Tendo dojo. 
  For less than a week's time Nabiki spent her time 
'training' Ranma for the talent show, in what she 
termed 'Anything-Goes Stage Performance' in order to 
get the poor boy motivated. It helped somewhat if Ranma 
thought about something in terms of 'training' in 
martial arts, and for this case she reasoned that it 
would help steady his concentration and bolster his 
already-huge confidence. 
  Ego was more like it, though. 
  Beside that, he was training as a girl. 
  Nabiki couldn't believe she was having as much luck 
with this plan than the previous schemes she cooked up 
in the past weeks. Ever since systematically 
dissolving their singing group for personal reasons 
none of her schemes seemed to work out, from forcing 
Ranma and Akane to fully accept, embrace, and otherwise 
express their feelings to one another and for others 
to see to simply getting more money. If Ranma and Akane 
ever did remove their barriers life would be much more 
interesting-- they hardly kissed as they are. 
  But today, with the help of Warlock, things were 
finally going her way. Nabiki believed it pure luck 
that the man of the dubious identity wished to create 
such a production, and with her help and connections 
was able to set up this talent show in no time flat. 
Nabiki quickly renewed her relations with the Tokuyama 
Agency and was offered a good pay for her help in the 
program. 
  Best of all, she got to decide the grand prize. 
  With all the training Nabiki was giving him... her, 
Ranma would have no problem winning the contest and 
the trip to China. Maybe then the freaky girl, Hokuto, 
would leave town, and take the snake/turtle/shotgun 
girl with her, too. 
  Not that there wasn't the other piece of information 
that could do the same job just as well, if used 
properly. 
  She lifted up her wrist to check the time, then 
clapped loudly to grab Ranma's attention. "Okay, that's 
enough!" 
  Ranma stopped in her routine. "Izzit time to go 
already?" 
  Nabiki nodded. "You go on ahead; your things should 
already be there-- trailer six." She tossed a set of 
keys to her. 
  "You SURE I'm going to win?" she asked, catching the 
keys easily with one hand. 
  "What makes you think you can lose?" Nabiki replied 
coolly. "I'd say you've got your training down pat." 
  "Yeah, and then someone else's going to come in and 
beat me." 
  "That's why you're not going as a guy-- guys are 
usually too good for the kind of thing you're going to 
do." 
  "Yeah right," scoffed Ranma, heading for the door. 
  The middle Tendo girl watched her leave wordlessly, 
a smirk forming on her lips. As soon as she was 
alone she muttered, "Well, Warlock, whatever you wanted 
Ranma for, you're definitely not going to get him in 
the form you wanted." 

  A premonition shocked the spine of Shion Kagami as 
he sat in front of his computer. 
  His work forgotten, Shion turned in his seat, 
clutching the back of his head in wracking pain, his 
glasses dropping down to the floor. 
  "What have I done?" he asked himself, suddenly 
sweating. 
  Shion fell forward out of his seat, nearly crushing 
his glasses as he came down, and realized for the first 
time what it truly felt to have a conscience attack. 
  Two days prior he caught Chika in his room, sitting 
at HIS computer, likely looking for more hard drive 
space for her home movie editing. And when he caught 
her she was looking at his confidential files. 
  Lesson one: never leave confidential information in 
a place where anybody can find it, especially not on 
the desktop. 
  Lesson two: never label it as confidential 
information. 
  Lesson three: put a password on your computer to keep 
prying sisters out of it. 
  Needless to say, Chika, being the curious type, did 
look through the information currently logged in the 
folder, consisting of information of the Black Widow 
job. While Shion was pleased that his dealings in the 
talent show hardly called for computer searches, and 
the fact that most of the deal went through with 
physical hands, he was angry nonetheless that such 
information changed hands again. 
  Chika demanded to know the price of the information 
he sold to Black Widow Nabiki, but Shion brushed it 
off. Yet, somewhere, a sense of morality welled from 
the girl, and she became quite angry. She wished he 
never distributed that information in the first place, 
while Shion argued that it was being paid for in true 
mercenary fashion. 
  "I'm a mercenary!" Shion pointed out. "So are you! 
It means you never take one side in an argument. It 
means you work for whoever pays you the most money, and 
even then working both sides is good! And most 
definitely it means you don't second-guess yourself!" 
  "Then I don't want to be a mercenary!" Chika 
countered. "If what it means to be one is what YOU 
are then I don't want anything to do with it! You may 
have made me, but I'm UNMAKING me." 
  "How can you live with yourself?" she continued. 
"How can you, Shion? Have you no conscience? Is money 
really worth all the pain and suffering you put 
others in, even ones you LOVE?!" 
  "I... I don't know what you're talking about!" he 
stuttered. 
  "Don't try hiding it. I saw you, you... monster!" 
  After exiling Chika from his room Shion put into 
effect his new safety measures, and continued business 
as usual... until now. 
  "Why now?" he whispered. "Why now?!" 
  Maybe it wasn't too late! he realized. 
  Nabiki Tendo... she's the one with the key. All I 
have to do is bolt the door tighter, and maybe.... 
  Shaking his head, Shion sat up, grabbing his glasses 
from the floor. 
  There has to be something I can use to stop her 
with... and on such short notice! 

  Shizuka crashed down to the floor head first after 
Hokuto slashed the rope suspending her from the 
ceiling with a Viper sword. 
  "Hey!" the priestess cried. "What'd you do that 
for?!" 
  Sheathing the sword, Hokuto looked down at Shizuka. 
"It's time to go. What in the world were you doing 
this for?" 
  "I'll let you know when my head explodes from the 
built-up pressure," she assured the other girl, 
"provided I don't blow up on YOU first!" 
  Hokuto snorted, folding her arms. "Dumb ass. Lighten 
up for once!" 
  The priestess got up to her feet, her eye level 
raised slightly higher than the apprentice's eyes. 
"It was your idea, so let's get it over with." 
  The other girl nodded, wrapping her traveling cloak 
around herself tightly. Shizuka's eyes narrowed, 
following Hokuto out the door before grabbing her 
shotgun and Viper swords. 

  Nabiki surveyed the turnout for the talent show 
from the V.I.P. booth near the edge of the stage. Many 
teenagers from all around Tokyo came to the Tokuyama- 
sponsored event, and the president himself, seated next 
to her, was all smiles. 
  The two sat next to the panel of five judges, 
selected out of the chair of the show committee. While 
Nabiki and Tokuyama could not cast their own votes, 
Tokuyama was on hand in order to break ties. Nabiki 
was there as a courtesy alone, and as an extra nudge to 
old, out-of-touch company presidents when the decision 
time did come. 
  Committee pay was also due. 
  A list of sixty-four contestants, each given five 
minutes of stage time, consisted of the course of the 
day. Give or take all the setup time, Nabiki estimated 
that the show would take up all day. Ranma was saved 
for the end of the list-- not last, but certainly 
near the last. 
  After all, it was the last that lingered in the 
impressions of the judges. It was a calculated risk, as 
those going first will become the measuring stick, but 
Nabiki believed it worth the risk. 
  Even then, there was always Akane, near the middle of 
the list. Two aces should prove workable. 
  And that was only the girls' contest; the boys' 
contest took place simultaneously, but elsewhere, as 
Nabiki knew more attention would be paid to girls. Not 
to mention the boys' contest would be boring-- all 
guys sounded the same to her. 
  The biggest competition Nabiki believed was Chika 
Hisho, who was entering a home-made movie, and showed- 
off dead last in the listing. While the idea alone 
hardly dented what she had in mind Nabiki knew that 
this girl was extremely talented and resourceful. As 
one of the few non-karaoke entries, it definitely 
would stand out in the show. Yet, things have been 
taken care of in that respect, too. 
  Ah, the number of guys in the crowd... this should be 
a piece of cake, Nabiki thought. Everything has gone 
according to plan, and not even the demon priest can 
do anything about it. 

  Shion focused the sight scope between Nabiki Tendo's 
eyes, and suddenly realized how futile it was. 
  From his hiding position raised above the open-air 
amphitheater the hacker-turned-assassin lowered his 
piece-made crossbow, took off his glasses and brushed 
his forehead. He set down the crossbow, the same 
weapon he used to fire a poison dart at Amakusa before, 
down on the ground. There was nothing left to do but 
wait, and even then it was too late to do anything 
about it; the damage has been done. 
  The only thing left to do is make sure that she left 
Chika alone, otherwise there would be problems for 
Black Widow Nabiki down the line. 

  Inferiority was a feeling totally alien to her. 
  She ran through the dark alleys of the morning city 
light, running not from any one person or threat, but 
for.... 
  The tears welling in her eyes blinded her, causing 
her to trip on an unseen obstacle in the middle of the 
road, throwing up grime after the impact with the 
ground. She wanted to keep running, but found there was 
no strength left to get up. 
  There was only enough energy left in her to mentally 
abuse herself. 
  Above the sobbing she heard someone approach her from 
behind. Her back exposed to the sky, she could not see 
who the newcomer was, but it was clear that his 
intentions were hardly honorable. 
  "Well, well," he said in a gruff, throaty voice. 
"Looks like I picked myself up a new one." 
  "Careful," warned another man, the girl realizing 
she couldn't feel his presence. "You saw her runnin'. 
Could be really feisty." 
  "No prob." Cracking knuckles. "She looks pooped from 
all that runnin'." 
  She felt his big arms around her, and she remained 
limp, hardly resisting the touch. "C'mon, we're taking 
her back to my place." 
  The second man made a step back. "Damn, man, this 
early in the mornin'?" 
  "You want me to come back later?" replied the first 
jokingly. "Nah, cute birds like this don't come my way 
this many times." 
  "Well, get the bitch to stop cryin' and I'll feel 
better. We'd draw too much attention, given her garb." 
  "Don't worry, we ain't takin' the surface streets." 
  Lost in herself, the girl felt her surroundings 
succumb into blackness. It was several heartbeats 
later and many plodding feet in wet ground before she 
realized they were in a building, and climbing stairs 
at that. The two men stopped at the third floor, an 
apartment complex, and they entered. 
  She was tossed unceremonially onto a soft bed, then 
both men exited the bedroom. Though the door was not 
wide open it was open enough that she could tell that 
the two men were arguing about who would get their turn 
first. 
  And then the first man entered, closing off all light 
sources to the bedroom. He shut the door behind him, 
locking it carefully with a key and throwing it on a 
nearby dresser. 
  "Well, gorgeous," the thug said, peeling off his 
shirt, "how do you want to start?" 
  The girl sniffed once, wiping the tears from her 
face. Then she laughed. 
  "What's so funny?" demanded the thug. "Don'cha know 
you're gonna get laid by the sexiest stud this side of 
town?" 
  However, the girl couldn't stop laughing, sitting up 
in the bed. The thug stepped cautiously closer to the 
bed, doubt entering his mind for the first time. 
  "You foolish little man," she said at last. "Don't 
you have any idea of what you're dealing with?" She 
wiped her face with her arm, her eyes containing fiery 
irony all around. "No, of course not. How ironic, that 
the one girl you happen to kidnap off the streets of 
Tokyo is completely the wrong kind." 
  The thug blinked in confusion. "W... what are you 
sayin'?" He edged back toward the dresser, and to the 
key that remained his only obstacle to freedom from the 
possessed girl. 
  Her aura burst into crimson flames. 
  Standing on the bed he laid so many girls on, the 
girl dressed in the dirty priestess vestments slid a 
pair of swords down her sleeves into her waiting hands. 
  Shizuka Minazuki, looking as if possessed by a demon, 
exploded into anger. "Because, ASSHOLE, you picked the 
one and only INFERTILE GIRL ON THE STINKING PLANET!!" 

  Nabiki stirred the cup of coffee bored as Yuka and 
Sayuri exited the stage together, after putting on 
their singing number. While they were by no means bad, 
they weren't really terrific, either. 
  The stage was quickly reset for the next contestant, 
their friend, Akane. 
  She stepped on stage with much anticipation from the 
audience, dressed in an idol costume. Nabiki already 
knew how things would turn out for her, and therefore 
everything should be a piece of cake for victory. 
  Akane gave a bow, and picked up the microphone set up 
on stage for her. 


			*  *  *  *  * 
Akane's Lullaby 

Since you're 
always stretching (aren't you?) 
surely you're 
tired out (aren't you?). 

When I watch your sleepy face, I get that feeling. 

So, 
Good night, good night, good night, 
I'll sing for you 
Akane's lullaby. 

If I should appear 
in your dreams (you know), 
I want very much 
to be gentle to you (you know). 

It's probably unreasonable, I know, but... 

It's all right, 
Good night, good night, good night, 
I'll sing for you 
Akane's lullaby. 

Tonight, 
Good night, good night, good night, 
I'll sing for you 

Good night, good night, good night, 
I'll sing for you... 

			*  *  *  *  *


  The hunter weaved through the crowds with persistent 
yearning, frantically wondering what to do. 
  Ranma Saotome was not on the list of guys that 
was competing for the talent show, as she hoped, but 
there WAS someone that bore the same name in the girl's 
show. Could something have gone wrong? 
  She, the buyer, who arranged for the show to occur 
herself, silently cursed Fate. Ranma Saotome was a guy, 
not a girl! What are the odds of a girl bearing the 
same name living in the same town, even! 
  Yet her contact made guarantees that he would be 
there. He HAD to be around the amphitheater SOMEWHERE. 
  But, what if the girl was related to the guy? A 
hostage? That was a risky gamble, she knew, but it 
was worth looking into. 

  When the door came down the second thug thought it 
was already his turn, but when the half-naked friend of 
his was sprawled on the floor with multiple slash 
marks on him, he began to fear for himself. 
  Shizuka trampled over the beaten man, and feast her 
bloodlusting eyes on the second thug, her aura flaring 
with greater intensity. "YOU'RE NEXT, CHIMP!!" 
  Thug Number Two squeaked in terror, scrambling for 
the apartment exit, but Shizuka was there, a blur of 
motion too quick for the eye to see. She raised her 
Viper swords in a cross bar, grinning evilly. 
  "Come now," she snarled, "don't you want YOUR fix as 
well?" 
  He stepped back, holding his arms before him. "N... 
now wait a minute! Can't we talk about this?" At this 
point doing a virgin priestess seemed like a REALLY 
bad idea. 
  "You should've listened to yourself earlier, chimp," 
Shizuka said. "Otherwise, you'd never feel the 
operation I'm about to hand to you!" 
  Number Two threw a quick glance over at Number One, 
and immediately felt his friend's pain. "N... no!!" 
  "We can have two IMPOTENT BASTARDS!!" cried the mad 
priestess. "Shall we do this the EASY way?" She 
smirked. "Or the HARD way?" 
  And then Number Two thought he was soiling himself 
now. 
  "Stop!" 
  The attentions of both Shizuka and Two turned toward 
the source of the voice. Where no one stood before 
there stood a third man, dressed in dark colors, yet 
they were priestly vestments similar to Shizuka's. His 
hair was aged white, with Fu-manchu style beard and 
mustache. In his right hand he waved a feather fan 
casually, holding his left hand outstretched. 
  "WAIT YOUR TURN!!" screamed the priestess. 
  "Is this what they teach you at the Shrine of the 
Four Gods?" he asked Shizuka. "If it is I am quite 
disappointed." 
  "Shut up!" 
  "Taking out your anger and aggression on these men 
will do little to alleviate your anger," the old man 
pointed out. "But, if you do choose to move against 
him... I must point out that I have had many more years 
of practice than you have, child." 
  And then, the mad priestess rocketed toward the old 
man. 
  Startled, the priest nevertheless carried out his 
threat, throwing a white focused energy beam at the 
priestess of Genbu. Shizuka struggled against the 
oncoming attack, but felt her strength being drained 
as she tried futily to force herself forward. 
  She collapsed face-first on the floor, dropping her 
Viper swords to each side of her. For the first time 
Shizuka realized she was up against a force barrier, a 
common technique used to make the opponent expend all 
their energy. 
  The old priest turned to face Thug Number Two. "I 
suggest you do not move, lest you rouse my own anger!" 
The warning issued, he retreated back to the bedroom, 
careful to avoid the fallen thug, and retrieved the 
sheathes of Shizuka's swords. When he returned to the 
living room the second thug stood exactly where he was 
before. The priest sheathed both swords, and tied them 
to his waist. 
  He bent down and scooped up the drained girl in his 
arms, then silently turned to leave. 
  Shizuka looked up at her captor with weary eyes. She 
eyed the pattern of the priest's robes with recognition 
in her eyes. "Who are you?" 
  The old man smiled. "Higure Furui. And I am pleased 
that you know that I am an Orochi priest." 

  Hokuto forced herself to walk on stage. 
  Far too late to turn back, the apprentice priestess 
tried to shove all external thoughts from her person, 
but none of it would go away. With the sudden 
disappearance of Shizu on the way to the show Hokuto 
wondered if the sometime-performer somehow got stage 
fright. 
  That's ridiculous. Shizu's been putting on 
performances for years. 
  Backstage, during Shizu's noticeable absence, Hokuto 
had extra time to spare to set up, but it was hardly 
necessary. Instead, she spent time chatting with the 
stagehands, veterans of Tokuyama events such as this. 
  "Stage fright," one said. 
  "Maybe had some kind of emergency?" was another. 
  "Realized how stupid this was?" also came up. 
  Only the last two seemed to fit Shizu's thoughts, but 
the third option was hardly characteristic in this late 
a stage. 
  When she finished that thought Hokuto was at the 
center of the stage, right where the microphone was 
mounted. 
  Hundreds of eyes, belonging to boys and girls alike, 
were directed toward the cloaked girl, waiting to see 
what would come up. 
  And Hokuto truly knew what stage fright was. 
  "H... hello," she began, nervously stuttering. 
  Murmurs ran like a wave throughout the audience. 
  "Hey!" someone shouted. "That's a GUY!" 
  Hokuto forced herself to ignore the moron's comment. 
It wouldn't be the first time, and she hardly 
understood why it happened. 
  Shizu... she thought, if this were you doing this, 
you wouldn't be so... dippy. 
  The microphone screeched loudly, followed by a 
series of yells in pain from the offending noise. 
  No, don't say sorry, she reminded herself. Just get 
on with it. Just think of what Shizu would do. 
  She waited for the music to start. It seemed like 
an eternity as Hokuto imagined the stagehands 
working to play something as simple as a compact disc. 
  When it started, she threw off her cloak and 
revealed a red kimono. 


			*  *  *  *  * 
Sakura (Cherry Blossoms) 

It blooms in the spring, the cherry blossom of hope. 
Flowers and storms cause it to bloom. 
With a flutter, it expands dreams. 
Let's join together, you and I. 

It blooms in the summer, the radiant cherry blossom. 
Love and courage cause it to bloom. 
With sparkles, it brightens dreams. 
Let's cross the rainbow of tomorrow. 

Strong, violent, gentle sakura. 
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura, 
the color of the cherry blossom. 

It blooms in the autumn, the crimson cherry blossom. 
It's made to bloom in the red sunset. 
Torn and smashed and even if the dream is crushed, 
Let's wipe the tears and sing. 

It blooms in the winter, the snow-cut cherry blossom. 
By a pure heart, it is made to bloom. 
High or steep, even if the dream is far away, 
If you're here, I will climb it. 

Strong, violent, gentle sakura. 
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura, 
the color of the cherry blossom. 

Strong, violent, gentle sakura. 
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura, 
the color of the cherry blossom. 

			*  *  *  *  *


  Ranma looked uncomfortable, Nabiki could tell. She 
stood on stage dressed in an idol costume, the 
microphone in her hand, waiting for her cue as the 
music began. 
  "I'll have to admit," she said aloud to Tokuyama, 
"I never thought he'd have the balls to do it again." 
  "Who? Ranma?" Tokuyama asked, glancing over at 
Nabiki. 
  She nodded. "Well, if things are looking good, 
judging from Akane, Ranma'd have no problem, with all 
the special training I gave him." 
  "I see," the president said, nodding to himself. 
"It's too bad, though, that we had to skip out on one 
of the contestants. I was actually looking forward to 
magic tricks-- it would've at least been different 
than all these karaoke entries." 
  Nabiki offered a silent nod as Ranma began. 
  But a stream of emptiness running through the crowd 
caught her attention more. Waves of people parted as 
someone forced their way through the crowd from the 
back toward the stage, and whoever got in the way was 
thrown in the air. 
  Ranma apparently caught wind of the approaching 
danger as well, as she ceased her song and focused her 
eyes on the oncomer. 
  Nabiki got Tokuyama's attentions. "Cut the music! 
Something's happening!" 
  The president smiled. "Part of your trick?" 
  "No!" she insisted. "Stop it, now!" 
  Just as Tokuyama gave the signal, a single person 
leaped out of the crowd, ending the stream of 
emptiness. Landing on stage was a woman, whose long 
hair fell well over her hips to her legs. Her hands 
were covered by matching black, arm-length rubber 
gloves, and she wore knee-length boots to match. She 
dressed in an unassuming, loose combat dress, tied off 
loosely at the waist. 
  Blood-like crimson eyes pierced at Ranma's soul, and 
Kolkhoz High's Miranda "Burning Eyes" Kusao was back. 

  "Miranda!" Ranma shouted in recognition. The red-eyed 
martial artist was at the same time Kodachi's rival and 
a thug previously for Saint Hebereke. A real pushover, 
really; she couldn't lay a hand on Ranma in their 
previous fight. 
  "Oh, my reputation precedes me?" Miranda said in 
mock surprise. "I certainly don't remember knowing you, 
but I must make enemies fast." 
  She pointed a gloved finger at her. "Or you really 
ARE Ranma Saotome's relation." 
  Ranma rolled her eyes. "Well, duh." 
  Miranda steadied herself into a fighting stance, one 
which Ranma noted that weight was shifted to the right 
foot in the back. "Prepare yourself!" 
  Instead of the anticipated cutting hands, Miranda 
somersaulted in the air forward with one leg extended, 
falling in the same cutting motion that was typical of 
her art. Ranma dodged to the side, knowing full well 
the disadvantage of deflecting the momentum attack. 
  Half moon kick, she labelled. 
  The crimson-eyed martial artist landed on both feet 
and threw circular saw kicks one after another, 
alternating legs with each cut. Ranma caught one leg 
in mid-swing, and was ready to throw Miranda until 
she hopped forward with her free foot extended. The 
booted leg smashed into Ranma's exposed neck, forcing 
her to release her grip. In the same quick motion 
Miranda used her now-free leg to attack: spinning in a 
horizontal axis with her body another blow tacked the 
other end of Ranma's neck. 
  Ranma grabbed both legs clamped to her neck, gritting 
her teeth. How the hell did she get so strong?! 
  Bending back Miranda planted her hands onto the stage 
ground and flipped over, carrying Ranma with her. 
Ranma managed to get her head oriented away from a 
direct collision, but ended up with her back to the 
stage. 
  The crowd shared Ranma's pain as the oohs and ahhs 
passed through in waves. 
  Miranda got up to her feet, and watched as Ranma did 
the same, albeit slowly. 
  "You're nothing like the real Ranma," Miranda said 
in disappointment. "He was far tougher than you are!" 
  "Feh, yeah sure," Ranma spat, trying to catch her 
breath. 
  "But I am curious of one thing," the attacker 
admitted. "Why is it that your brother...." 
  "Not my brother," interrupted Ranma. 
  "Whoever!" she yelled. "It doesn't matter your 
relation, but I want to see Ranma Saotome right here 
and right now, or you'll pay in his place!" 
  Damn, Ranma thought, I've got to get out of here. 
There's no way Miranda's gonna get what she wants while 
I'm still here, and wearing this stupid outfit at that. 
Now, if only.... 
  She jumped into the air. Miranda jumped upward in 
pursuit, flipping backward with one leg extended in a 
reverse cutting motion. Ranma was thrown back down to 
the ground by the anti-air attack, crashing on her back 
once more. 
  Full moon kick. 
  "RANMA!" she heard, just before a kettle of warm 
water clocked her. A large blanket followed soon 
thereafter, allowing for a quick change of clothes. 
  Miranda smirked as the audience applauded when Ranma 
threw off the blanket to reveal himself, back in his 
street clothes and ready to fight. 
  "I don't know how you did that," she said, "but that 
was a neat trick." 
  "You ain't seen nothin' yet!" Ranma promised. 
  The crowd chanted and cheered. The combatants 
charged. 
  Ranma and Miranda threw jabs and cuts with their 
fists and legs, neither gaining an advantage as they 
deflected each others' attacks. Neither martial artist 
showed signs of tiring. 
  I've got to get this girl outta here, Ranma reminded 
himself. 
  Breaking off combat, he shouted, "Saotome School 
Final Attack!" Leaping back, he turned and ran. 
  Heedless, Miranda pursued Ranma's retreat toward the 
end of the stage. "Stand and fight, coward!" 
  Damn, it's not working! 
  The audience in the amphitheater continued to chant 
Miranda's name with great enthusiasm. 

  "Dammit!" Shion cursed, as he lost sight of Ranma in 
his crossbow's sight scope. All other issues forgotten, 
the would-be assassin headed for the exit of the 
rooftop vantage point, knowing full well what could go 
wrong when the two martial artists were backstage. 

  Stagehands ran for cover, abandoning the equipment 
being readied for the next performance as Ranma and 
Miranda continued their fight backstage. Chika stood 
by her equipment in terrified shock, and as the two 
passed by her she finally got the sense to make 
herself scarce. 
  The equipment consisted of a carefully-prepared 
video program that would be projected onto a monitor 
mounted on the stage, and it contained everything 
Chika poured her heart into. 
  So when Ranma kicked Miranda into it, the parts and 
pieces flying off it hardly made her happy. 
  Miranda staggered with her back against the 
electronics, and jumped straight up to avoid Ranma's 
next punch. 
  It went straight through the machine and made a lot 
of sparks. 
  Surprisingly, Ranma withdrew his hand quickly before 
the shock hit him, but Miranda grabbed the sparking 
cables on her descent, protected by her rubber gloves. 
She yanked the cables out and held them before her 
with mercilessness in her eyes, leaving Chika only 
to scream. 

  "Time to fry, guy!" Miranda laughed, spinning the 
sparking wires in a circle before her. 
  Ranma stepped back, then rushed suddenly with a 
turnaround kick, forcing the girl to lose her grip on 
the cables. Miranda flipped back for another full moon 
kick, but this time Ranma was ready and dodged easily. 
  "There's no way you could've gotten this strong so 
fast!" Ranma complained. 
  "Such is the nature of my art!" Miranda replied, her 
evil grin widening in anticipation. "Sensei is truly a 
genius of fighting!" 
  "I was afraid of that," he muttered, raising his 
arms high to block an overhead kick. 
  Speed was on the side of Miranda as her first leg 
was caught high in the block she flipped backward with 
a full moon kick, then flipped back forward with a half 
moon kick, sending Ranma quickly to the ground. 
  Full moon kick, Ranma mused as he got up, requires 
a full backflip with a cutting leg turned in a full 
vertical circle, leaving her off the ground and unable 
to act for a few seconds. Problem is, it could only 
be taken advantage of if Miranda was careless; she 
only used it against aerial attacks, where the 
advantage was lost to me. 
  Yet, a half moon kick is a short forward somersault 
utilizing the same kind of cutting leg, but leaves an 
even smaller window of opportunity because she's off 
the ground for a shorter period of time. An ideal 
overhead attack since it can't be blocked easily, but 
she's dangerous throughout the entire attack. Can't do 
anything about it without trading blows.... 
  Circular saw kick is a horizontal circle slash, 
leaving only the upper body exposed for the duration of 
the spin, and is the only window of opportunity. Likely 
she knows that as I do, so there's probably a defense. 
  And of course, she still stood with her weight on 
her right foot.... 
  "Hiyah!" Ranma cried, unleashing a flurry of punches 
and kicks. 
  Miranda blocked the attacks easily, trying to get in 
some good hits of her own in, but succeeding just as 
well as her opponent. She spun in place in another 
circular saw kick. 
  Standing on her right foot. 
  Ranma saw the window of opportunity, and ducked for a 
low sweep attack. Miranda fell surprised, landing on 
her side and her left leg extended outward. 
  When she failed to get up, he shook his head. "One 
lousy sweep and you're out? That's sad." 
  He turned to walk away, but as soon as his back was 
turned to his downed opponent Ranma felt Miranda's 
legs clamp onto his neck again. 
  "Never turn your back on your enemy!" she chastised, 
throwing Ranma over her. 
  Thrown a surprising distance, Ranma landed face-first 
on stage. The audience cheered as Miranda reappeared 
for them triumphant. 
  "Miranda! Miranda!" the crowd chanted. 
  And for the first time she realized they were 
cheering for her. 
  Ranma forced himself back onto his feet. "I'm... I'm 
not done yet!" 
  Miranda detected the latest attack, and made broad 
sweeping gestures with her arms, likely for show of 
the audience. "Prepare yourself," she hissed, "for the 
secret technique: the moon slasher dance!" 
  Well, they were about to be disappointed, he 
decided, charging. "Just like your OTHER 'secret 
technique!'" 
  Her arm gestures ended with her right arm high and 
left arm at waist level. Ranma attacked. 
  "Ougi," Miranda shouted, "TSUKIZAN RENBU!!" 
  "Wha...?!" Ranma yelped, caught in the secret 
technique. The female martial artist slashed him with 
an upward full moon kick, followed by another in 
succession in mid-air, then a third, sending Ranma 
flying upward. 
  Landing first on the ground, Miranda jumped straight 
up to her target, spinning on a vertical axis with an 
aerial circular saw kick, cutting through Ranma with 
great speed. 
  The crimson-eyed warrior landed on her feet, while 
the pig-tailed warrior landed on his back. The crowd 
roared in delight. 
  "Miranda! Miranda! Miranda!" 
  Smiling, she bowed to the gathered people, truly 
happy at last. 

  The surroundings changed from a pervert's apartment 
to a quiet shrine in the middle of town. Appearing 
stylistically out of place in the middle of an industry 
capitol such as Tokyo, the fire shrine was still a 
well-visited location. 
  Higure said nothing to the keepers of the shrine, but 
they left him and Shizuka alone in private separate 
quarters nonetheless. They undoubtedly recognized his 
Orochi trappings, but made no move to bar his 
movements. 
  Shizuka rubbed her thumb on the sheathed Viper 
swords in her arms, feeling a sense of longing unfelt 
before-- and the inferiority threatened to creep back. 
  "So you found out the truth?" Higure said. 
  "From the wrong source, no less," admitted the 
priestess of Genbu. 
  "Well, then, would you like to tell me about it?" 
asked the Orochi priest, genuinely curious. 
  Shizuka shrugged. "May as well. Earlier today I was 
supposed to go to some stupid talent show as a favor 
for a friend. Grand prize is a trip for two to China." 
  "I see." 
  "On the way there a girl, Nabiki Tendo, confronted 
me and told me something about myself." She shook her 
head. "I... I've completely wondered the answer to the 
question myself, and Fate deals me a blow in the form 
of her!" 
  "What would that be?" 
  Shizuka sighed. "I've always wanted to know why my 
parents gave me up to the Shrine of the Four Gods." 
  "Ah." 
  "It's something that's been burning in my mind for 
twelve years," she continued, "and Nabiki-- I don't 
know how she figured it out-- told me that the reason 
was that I was born infertile." 
  Higure said nothing. 
  "I don't even know how they knew that," admitted 
Shizuka, "but there's got to be at least some kind of 
record of it somewhere, if Nabiki found it. I now 
understand why my mentors never revealed this to 
me, or the location of my parents. They were right to 
protect them from me." She offered an awkward laugh. 
  "To be abandoned by the love of mother and father 
over something as culturally important as bearing 
children," mused Higure, scratching his beard. "People 
believe such things are dying out in this modern age, 
but it still occurs nonetheless." 
  "Yeah," agreed the priestess. "I can't bear children 
of my own, so to them I'm completely worthless. I can't 
even be married off if I wanted to." She lowered her 
head and raised her hand to hide her tears. "When I was 
with the Saotome and Tendo families one night a part of 
me was absolutely giddy with the prospect of getting 
married... and now I think I understand why." 
  Wiping the tears, she leaned over to Higure and 
whispered, "I just like kids." 
  "How ironic," the Orochi priest noted. "The one thing 
you truly love most is denied to be of your own." 
  "Yeah, that's what I thought," Shizuka replied, 
pulling out her shotgun. She leaned against the single 
barrel as if it would comfort her. "I trained hard at 
the Shrine of the Four Gods with the promise that I'd 
know the truth, but now that I know the truth already 
what should I do?" 
  "Hmm," mused Higure. "That is a dilemma." 
  "On the one hand," he explained, "you can continue 
your discipline and training, in the hopes that one 
day you can become the Guardian of the Seal of Genbu. 
Becoming the Guardian is no small task, and requires 
strict discipline and faith on your part, and may even 
destroy you, if you are not ready." 
  "On the other hand, you could quit your training, and 
try to seek out your own life. Not only do you free 
yourself from your discipline, but your faith and 
beliefs as well. You effectively abandon everything you 
grew up to learn and appreciate." 
  "Now," he finished, "it is not my place to make the 
decision for you, as I am but an advisor to your 
plight. My role has been delegated to that of an 
observer at this point in time, nothing more, nothing 
less. The decision to move on is up to you." 
  "Master Higure," Shizuka said, "Thank you for your 
consideration." 
  "I am not making the decision for you, nor forcing 
you to choose," the priest insisted. "Do not make a 
decision now, but take your time if necessary." 
  "Master, there is but one course I CAN choose," she 
replied with resolve. Standing to her feet, Shizuka 
lowered the shotgun to the ground and stood straight 
and tall. "The only course is the one I'm already 
walking." 
  "I see," he said, nodding. "Then, from a master to 
an apprentice, I bid you well in your journey renewed. 
I, too, walk the journey of rediscovery, so never feel 
yourself alone in that respect. I cannot help you 
directly, but I will be there if need be." Higure 
stood up in turn. 
  "I understand." 
  He offered his hand, to which Shizuka shook firmly. 
"Good luck to you, then. Until our paths cross again." 
He turned to leave, but stopped. 
  Glancing over his shoulder, Higure added, "Oh, and 
please refrain from mentioning my presence here to 
Ranma Saotome, if you will." 
  "I'd hardly question you, but... why?" Shizuka asked 
curiously. 
  "He and I have shared many conflicts between one 
another," Higure explained. "When we last parted he 
was recovering from the loss of his friend." 
  "Ukyo," she guessed. "It all fits." 
  "Yes," the priest confirmed. "At this point in the 
game I would only interfere in his journey, but 
someday our paths will cross again. When that time 
comes, perhaps then I will be ready, and maybe he, too, 
will be ready to move on." 

  Shion surveyed the damage created by the battle 
between Ranma and Miranda backstage, his hands in his 
trenchcoat pockets. The equipment Chika was readying 
was ruined, and an opportunity lost. 
  Ranma Saotome, he mused. Well, then, perhaps there is 
something I can do about this after all, before 
retirement.... 
  He produced a cellular phone from his left pocket, 
and initiated an autodial sequence. Shion waited 
patiently, listening to the dialtone until someone 
picked up the receiver. 
  "Hello?" 
  "Ayame, it's me, Chika's brother," he said. 
  There was a momentary pause. "Yeah?" 
  "I need to ask a favor of you." 
  "It's about Chika, then? That sucked royally." 
  "Of course. And a certain pig-tailed martial artist." 
  "Ah. In that case...." 
  "That's right. Time to pull in the stocks." 
  "I see. I'll meet you at the warehouse at you-know- 
where. Be there at midnight." 
  "Thank you." 
  Shion cut the connection, then punched in a series 
of numbers and waited. Accessing his secret line, he 
punched in another series of numbers. He hardly had to 
wait long before someone picked up the other end. 
  "Hello?" came a skittish voice. 
  "Ah, my friend," Shion said, satisfied the rerouted 
voice of his was being scrambled properly in the 
receiver. "It's time I call on that favor you owe me." 
  There was silence at the other end of the line. "W... 
Warlock?!" 
  "You're going to meet two of my other clients down 
at the dock warehouse A-722B at midnight tonight. I 
assure you, however, that you WILL appreciate this 
favor I ask in return." 
  Make a few concessions, cut a few deals, and presto! 
Shion "Warlock" Kagami's machine of vengeance was on a 
roll. 


			*  *  *  *  * 

To: warlock@spielburg.org 
From: blackwidow@northspire.net 
Subject: Re: Current Job 

Everything went precisely as planned at the talent 
show except for a few problems. Big problems, 
actually. 

It turns out that the real Ranma Saotome never showed 
up until after a girl came to challenge him, instead 
attacking an impostor girl. They sure made a mess of 
the place, on-stage and backstage. And yet, the crowd 
and the judges unanimously agreed that the grand prize 
should go to Burning Eyes. 

Weird, huh? She wasn't even part of the show, but 
everyone, including the president, thought it was all 
an act. One thing's for sure, Ranma got a sore 
thrashing; hope your client appreciates that much, as 
that's about the only thing that went right. 

- Black Widow 

-------------------------------------------------- 
"Do You Remember Love?" 
  -- Lame Title of the Week 

			*  *  *  *  * 


  Days of hours of silent meditation and soul searching 
finally paid off for Kodachi Kuno. 
  She sat in a meditative position in the Spartan 
room of the Kuno estate reserved for Tatewaki's 
phoenix egg, a priceless relic purchased from the same 
store as the abridged manual. 
  The manual alone was useless, she realized, unless 
she herself understood the inner workings of the 
Phoenix Sword. It took a good week to finally reach 
an understanding with the egg, silly as it sounds, but 
finally Kodachi understood. 
  For a moment, she wondered how her stupid brother 
managed to figure it out a long time ago without the 
manual. 
  When she completed her meditation Kodachi flipped 
through the manual, carefully searching for the 
part she believed pertinent to the situation. 
  Ah, of course. 
  Written in the abridged section of the manual, she 
finally understood the reason her brother fled the 
country so quickly. It is understood that constant use 
of the Phoenix Sword eventually kills the wielder by 
slowly eating his soul until it was all consumed. The 
Sword technique could build up a tolerance over time if 
used sparingly, but there has not been a documented 
case whereby the wielder survived more than four uses. 
  Tatewaki has already reached that point. In order to 
save himself from disaster he willingly fled Japan to 
avoid another battle with Ranma Saotome. 
  "At last," Kodachi said aloud, "Brother-dear, life 
become so dear to you, yet perhaps too late. The death 
of honored foe twist your soul so that you would 
give up that which you cherish most." 
  Fighting. 


			*  *  *  *  * 

Hokuto (VO): 

  "We thought it was the beginning of the end, but the 
beginning of a new journey. How right is it for Ranma 
to know what I'm thinking of telling him-- my darkest 
secret?" 
  "Next time: Shadow Weaver. I'll explain it later." 



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Author's Notes 

  Hokuto's song is from Sakura Taisen (Sakura Wars), 
and, not surprisingly, put out in 1996, which is about 
when this story takes place. I am such a sneaky jerk, 
but I definitely didn't want something from later for 
consistency's sake. 
  Miranda's art was based off King of Fighters 
characters (mainly Leona, Kim, and Jhun). 


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

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