*** Earth  0.000,0.000

Ranma found himself standing inside the grounds of the Tendo Dojo, its 
gates shut behind him.  As he looked around for a few moments, his ears 
picked up the sounds of a fierce commotion coming from within the 
training hall.  Curious, he headed towards it, hearing a furious battle 
going on within the dojo, and he saw two indistinct figures flashing 
back and forth past the opening, engaging each other in brutal hand-to-
hand combat.  A body was suddenly hurled out with a loud crash through 
one of the walls, landing almost at his feet in a bruised tangle of 
limbs.  

"H-hey there, bookworm," groaned the familiar-looking figure lying at 
his feet, another Ranma.  The doppelganger got up and dusted himself 
off, but he eyed the dojo with a hint of nervousness on his features.

"Hey yourself, tough guy," said the pigtailed scholar with a grin.  
"So, what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Martial-Ranma.  "Excuse me a sec."  He charged 
back inside.

A voice was suddenly heard clearly, a female voice.  "Oh, so you're 
back for more, you macho jerk?" said the mystery girl.  Another intense 
battle was heard for several seconds, to Ranma's continuing puzzlement.

"What the hell is going on in there?" he wondered out loud.

The sounds of combat culminated with a scream of female anger and the 
sound of a body hitting the dojo's floor.  Hard.  An eerie silence fell 
as he crept towards the entrance of the building.  Peeking in, he 
beheld his doppelganger busily tying up a familiar-looking girl.  Both 
were wearing the same outfits: red silk shirt and black pants.  The 
girl's mouth was gagged, but her gaze promised much pain to the one who 
were binding her.  With no noticeable lowering of intensity, her glare 
found Ranma.  He goggled a moment before entering.

"Uh, what's going on?" he asked, not bothering to try and hide his 
confusion.

"It's nothin' you need to worry about, bookworm," said his 
doppelganger, quickly slinging the redhead over his shoulder and 
carrying her away into the house, her muffled screams of rage trailing 
behind them as he sprinted off with her.

"What the hell?" asked Ranma, stopping suddenly.  "This is a weird 
dream."

A few moments later, from somewhere in the house, there came the 
firecracker-popping sounds of ropes snapping.  A surprised-sounding 
male voice suddenly shouted, "AHH!  She's loose again!"  That cry was 
quickly followed up by the quite distinctive sounds of somebody getting 
brutally clobbered, and then a figure was blasted through the roof of 
the house and sent hurtling upwards into the sky.  Ranma tracked its 
trajectory until he lost sight of it against the sun.

"Serves you right, you jerk!" came a shout from within the house.  A 
familiar female figure appeared in one of the windows, looking quite 
angry.  She eyed him for a moment, and then she smiled nastily.

"Damn, she's strong," muttered Ranma, seeing what the redhead had done 
to his martial artist doppelganger.

The girl's gaze remained focused on him as she bounded out of the 
window, heading right towards the pigtailed boy.  Ranma had reflexively 
readied himself for a fight, but she landed just short of him.  He and 
the girl studied each other for a long moment.  She suddenly grabbed 
him by the front of his shirt, and he blinked as she hauled him down to 
eye level with her.

"Uh, hello?"  He saw her studying him more closely.

"I thought so," said the redhead, suddenly releasing her grip on him. 
"You're him, the moronic, perverted male version of me who jumped into 
my body, felt it up, and got us all into this mess."

"Ranko?" asked Ranma, surprised to see her.
 
"Who else?" she replied sourly as she turned away from him for a 
moment.  When she turned back and saw the stunned expression on his 
face, she rolled her eyes and softly muttered, "Idiot."

"That's right," he agreed without realizing it.  He had been rethinking 
his experiment and his trips. "You were the other download."

"Bingo."  Ranko got a smug look, pointing at him.  "You're cute, but 
you're also kind of slow on the uptake.  Must be from all that 
testosterone soaking into your brain you have to deal with."

Ranma studied her for a moment, pointedly ignoring her goading remarks, 
and then asked, "So, why haven't you shown yourself before?"

"Well, duh," she said with a shake of her head, "it's because that 
microencephalic Neanderthal that you downloaded into your skull has 
been keeping me suppressed.  Every time you dreamed, you only talked 
with him.  I was," she looked down at the ground before casting a quick 
glance to the side, "elsewhere.  The only time we saw each other before 
this, without him butting in, was when you were having that perverted 
dream."  A memory bubble of the scene suddenly appeared in the air 
nearby, showing him passionately kissing with a girl that seemed to be 
a composite of the girls he knew, her voice and hair color constantly 
shifting as he held her in his arms.  Both Ranma and Ranko reddened at 
the sight, and her cheeks blushed even redder when the girl briefly 
looked and sounded like her.

"Er, anyway," she said quickly, recovering first.  "He's been keeping 
me locked away in your subconscious, like he's scared of me or 
something.  I don't know what his mental malfunction is, but I'm not 
going to be bullied by any guy."  She paused in her tirade to glare at 
him with ice in her eyes.  "You got any problem with that?"

"Uh, no.  No problem," said Ranma very quickly, waving his hands in 
negation.  "It's just a surprise seeing you."

"Well, get used to it," she huffed.  "Since it looks like we're stuck 
with each other, likely for good."

"Yay."  Ranma's tone was rather sarcastic, earning him another dark 
look from her lighter blue eyes.

"I still haven't worked out all my frustrations, you know," she said 
rather menacingly.  She made a show of cracking her knuckles.  "Care to 
help me out with that?"

"Not right now."  He briefly studied his female analog.  She looked 
exactly like the cursed form of the other Ranma, especially dressed as 
she was, although maybe a little taller.  Realizing he had been 
staring, he quickly said, "Uh, I guess maybe we got off on the wrong 
foot, Ranko.  It's just weird, seeing you here like this.  I mean, 
short of getting cursed like that other version of me did, I think I'm 
getting a little too much in touch with my feminine side."

"Well, how the hell do you think I feel?" she retorted huffily.  She 
briefly waved her arms around, like his real father sometimes did 
whenever he was lecturing.  "This isn't even my brain.  I'm just some 
kind of mnemonic ghost of the real me, a copy you made of her memories 
and personality, just like you did with that macho jerk.  But you don't 
seem to mind having him around, oh no.  Instead, I'm the one that gets 
treated like some kind of a pariah by this fusion of a psyche we're all 
sharing."

Ranma wasn't sure what to say, so he acted on impulse and held out a 
hand.  Ranko looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm sorry for what's happened."  He smiled hesitantly.  "Can we start 
over and try to be friends?  Like you said, we're going to be together 
for, uh, for a long time, I guess."

Ranko continued to gaze suspiciously at this male version of herself 
for several moments as she thought it over.  The scientist within her 
was quite curious to talk with him.  After all, this 'Ranma' was her 
male reflection in a quantum mirror, and she had to admit that his 
resonator invention was a fascinating concept.  After a few brief 
moments spent considering the matter, she suddenly reached out and took 
his hand.

"Okay."  She even gave him a tentative smile as they shook hands.  Up 
close to Ranma, she spent some time studying him, noting he was several 
centimeters taller than she was.  She also noticed that he was studying 
her as intently as she had been studying him, and her eyes narrowed.  
"It's rude to stare."

He blinked, and he said defensively, "You were doing it too."

"I was not!"  She quickly yanked her hand from his grasp and turned 
away.  Behind her back, she heard him muttering something under his 
breath, and she whirled back to face him.

"I AM NOT A TOMBOY!" she shouted.  She swiftly marched up to him and 
punctuated her words with her finger poking him in the chest.  "Take.  
That.  Back."

"Make me," he said, with a sudden, taunting smirk.

Annoyed by the look on his face, she attacked with a lightning-fast 
punch, knocking him to the ground.  She followed it up with an axe 
kick, bringing her heel down hard, but he was already rolling away and 
back to his feet, a moment before it impacted where his ribcage would 
have been.  But she was faster than he expected, already leaping at him 
with a flying dragon kick.

Ranma blocked the kick, setting her up for a grappling hold.  They 
wrestled intensely for a bit, rolling around on the ground as each of 
them struggled to subdue the other.  Their battle alternated between 
being playful and serious, but it finally ended when he managed to pin 
her.  She briefly struggled some more, but finally yielded when she 
could not budge his hold.  Both of them were panting now, their eyes 
bright as they studied each other again.

"That was fun," Ranko admitted with a sudden grin.

He grinned back.  "Yeah, it was."

The redhead's face became more serious as she suddenly felt nervous at 
being held down by him like this.  She glared at him suspiciously.  
"You aren't getting any perverted ideas, are you?"

"Sorry!" he yelped, getting off her in a flash.  He stood slightly 
turned away from her in a very suspicious looking half-crouch.  "No, 
not me."  He quickly reiterated, "No perverted thoughts here!"

"Take it easy, dummy," she said, getting up and dusting herself off.  
Her expression shifted back to a grin.  "I was just teasing you."

The pigtailed scholar turned back to face her, put his hand behind his 
head and chuckled for a moment, before he quickly said, "Uh, reflex 
action, I guess.  From that other analog."

"Well, at least I know one of your weaknesses now," she said with an 
impudent look.  The redhead came up and gave him a friendly punch to 
the arm.  "Just watch it with the tomboy remarks, okay?  No self-
respecting girl would put up with being called that, especially me.  
And you sound like Kaneda-baka when you do that.  Do it again, and I'll 
have to kick your ass all around this dreamscape."  She grinned 
playfully.  "After all, you shouldn't talk that way about your sister."

"Sister, eh?" he asked, realizing that it made an odd sort of sense to 
think of her as that.

"Make that older sister," corrected a still-grinning Ranko.  "After 
all, my birthday is three days before yours.  So listen to your older 
sister at all times, and we'll get along fine."

He snorted.  Ranma wondered if either Nabiki or Kodachi had these sorts 
of weird dreams.  He would have to ask them sometime.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quantum Destinies
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic
By Steven Thesken (quantumdestinies@cox.net)

Ranma 1/2 and its characters are owned by Rumiko Takahashi.  This story 
is inspired by her works and the stories from some of my fellow fanfic 
authors.  Among these are DB Sommer's "Shampoo 1/2", Jim Bader's "A 
Very Scary Thought -aka- Nabiki 1/2", and John Biles' Elseworlds 
series.  All C&C is welcome.

Other chapters of this story may be found at this website, or you can 
email the author for them:

The Quantum Destinies Homepage
http://members.cox.net/quantumdestinies/


The list of worlds reoccurring in this chapter:
Earth  0.000,0.000 - The world of Scholar-Ranma (Baseline cluster)
Earth  +4.612,+4.509 - The world of Shampoo 1/2 (Ranma 1/2 cluster)


What has gone before in this story (or at least what will help you 
understand what is going on):

On a parallel Earth that diverged from the standard Ranma timeline over 
five hundred years ago, the Empire of Japan rules almost half the world 
and has done so for almost a century.  Theorizing that one could travel 
to alternate timelines by possessing counterparts in them, a young 
scientist named Ranma Saotome, through use of a device of his own 
invention, accidentally obtained the skills and memories of a martial 
artist version of himself.  Kenseiko's battle with Nodoka ended in 
victory for the noblewoman, resurrecting a twenty-year old rivalry.  
Akane was easily defeated by Sakura when the other girl revealed a 
special technique.  And Ranma emerged victorious in his own battle with 
Utena, but complications to his life have begun brewing.  Finally, 
Ryoga Hibiki's encounter in the mountains during his quest for a 
certain ninja brings him closer to his portion of destiny.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 16 - Born To Be Wild

     The wildest colts make the best horses.

                              - Plutarch

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


*** Earth  +4.612,+4.509

Happosai silently dropped down on the wall surrounding the Tendo Dojo.  
It was oddly quiet, and that was a surprise.  Usually, by this time of 
the morning, at least two people could be counted on to be training, 
that cutie-pie, Shampoo, and his wretched ingrate of an apprentice, 
Ranma.  He scanned the grounds again.  Something felt very different 
about this place.  Even though he wasn't staying here, he still checked 
on it now and then, but it had been a number of days since he was last 
by.

The ancient (but far from revered) Master of the Anything-Goes School 
bounded across the distance separating him from the house.  He grinned 
in anticipation of sneaking a long peek at a sleeping Shampoo, or maybe 
even a lingering ogle of the delectable female Ranma.  His feet touched 
down on the roof, and he swung down to peer into Shampoo's room.

It was empty.

Puzzled, he scrambled across the roof and peered into Ranma and Genma's 
room, but it was empty as well.  He frowned and thought about it.  All 
three of them could have been gone on some sort of training trip, but 
the rooms felt emptier than that, empty with an odd sort of finality to 
it.

Dropping down off the roof, he landed on the ground with a slight grunt 
as his legs soaked up the impact.  He quietly opened the door to the 
house and headed down the hall towards Soun's room.  He gently slid the 
door open, slipped inside, and closed it behind him.  Then he paused 
and stared at what lay beyond.  For one of the few times in his long 
life, he was astonished.

Soun had been drinking, apparently heavily.  His bedroom was tidy 
(undoubtedly due to Kasumi's efforts), but the bed and its occupant 
were far from such a state.  The Tendo patriarch clutched an empty 
bottle of sake to his chest like a lover, muttering in his sleep.

Happosai hopped the length of the room and landed beside Soun's bed, a 
faint note of concern crossing his features for the very briefest of 
moments.  He rapped once on Soun's skull with the bowl of his pipe, but 
there was no response, other than the man clutching the bottle a little 
more tightly, as if he was choking it.  He leaned in a little closer to 
hear better as Soun muttered some more.

"Genma... man-to-man promise," Soun muttered.  He grumbled some other 
things that were unintelligible for several moments.  His words then 
firmed up enough to make out, "used my friendship... left with that 
freak of a son... Shampoo... Akane-chan will make them pay...."  Things 
continued on for a while like that as Happosai quietly listened and 
tried to make sense of what had happened.

"Father?" suddenly came Kasumi's voice timidly through the door.  "Are 
you awake?  Would you like me to make you some breakfast?"  There was a 
pause for several moments, then came a faint sigh and the muted sound 
of slippered feet walking away.

"Genma, m'boy, what have you done?" the old man muttered.  He absently 
lit his pipe and thought about all this.  It seemed obvious that the 
future of the Anything-Goes School was in doubt, and that concerned him 
a bit.  Something had happened while he was away to turn this household 
upside down, and it looked like it was up to him to set things right.

However, first there were fragile, young women that needed comforting 
as only he could give it.  So, with a lecherous grin, he tamped out his 
pipe and headed out of Soun's bedroom.  It was quiet for several long 
moments, then a feminine scream was heard.

"Oh great, this is all we need," came Nabiki's distinctive voice in 
response to Kasumi's surprised cry.  This was followed up by sounds of 
someone battering someone else into pulp with something heavy, perhaps 
an iron skillet.  Then, there was a final sound of metal impacting hard 
against flesh and bone, and a fast-fading cry of pain heading off into 
the distance.

Several moments of silence passed, then Nabiki's voice dryly continued, 
"Remind me to never get you mad at me when you're in a kitchen, Sis."

                   ******************************

Genma sat at the breakfast table, enjoying a cup of tea as he watched 
Ranma and Shampoo sparring before the morning meal.  Although it was 
not his real son out there, he felt a measure of fatherly pride well up 
within him.  When he got back home, he would have to get his own body 
back into better shape, like he had been when he was younger.  Working 
with this one was producing a steady rate of improvement, despite the 
amount of food that Nodoka kept trying to feed him.

"Pop watching us again," said Shampoo during a lull in the fierce match 
she was having against Ranma.

"Yeah, I know," replied the pigtailed boy, catching his breath.  "I 
just wish I could figure out what he's up to."

"Shampoo not know.  Shampoo not care."

"Huh?  Why not?"

"Ranma not like being home?" asked the amazon.  "Ranma not like having 
Pop working at job?  Shampoo think Ranma being too, too suspicious."

He studied the ground intently for a moment before replying, "I can't 
explain it, Shampoo.  It's just such a change.  I even checked on him 
at his job, and it's on the up-and-up.  And then there's all those 
weird books he's been reading, and they ain't about martial arts.  Why 
the hell would my old man be reading up on stuff like that?"

"Pop is acting strange.  But is good kind of strange, yes?"  She was 
getting a bit tired of Ranma's suspicions.  As far as she could tell, 
Genma had been acting like a proper father of late, at least as much as 
she knew what a typical Japanese father was like.  And Nodoka looked 
quite happy, especially lately, most likely a result of the sounds that 
now emerged every night from the room she shared with her husband.

"I dunno," he muttered.  "I just can't shake this weird feeling that I 
got."

The amazon shrugged and said, "Shampoo think Ranma brood too much.  But 
it leave you open."

"Huh?"  He was taken by surprise by her punch, knocking him to the 
ground.  He rolled back to his feet with a grin.  "Oh, so you wanna 
play?  Fine."  Launching himself at the amazon, the pair went after 
each other with renewed vigor, Ranma's brooding look replaced with a 
smile.

The amazon smiled, but whether it was from lifting the pigtailed boy's 
spirits or the challenge of the fight even she couldn't tell.

Genma watched the pair battling each other.  The fatherly smirk was 
still on his lips as he watched the amazon force the boy back for a 
minute or so, but his eyes looked a little bit sad.  The homesickness 
was wearing at him, not to mention the stresses of hiding who he really 
was.  He hoped that his son contacted him again, and soon.

                   ******************************

Shadows dwindled in an alleyway somewhere within Nerima, victims of the 
morning sunlight spreading itself across Tokyo.  It was typical of such 
places, and looked little different from those in any other major city 
a person would care to name.  A stray newspaper rested against a brick 
wall.  Rats and other vermin scurried about, seeking shelter and food, 
an urban ecosystem in normal operation.

A light materialized in the midst of the alleyway, well out of sight of 
the street.  It spread outwards from an initial pinprick glow to form 
into a rippling circle of golden light suspended in mid-air.  Objects 
could still be seen through the effect, but they were distorted, as if 
seen through a warped piece of glass.  The air pressure within the 
alleyway dipped slightly, as a faint breeze rustled the newspaper and 
blew it in the direction of the anomaly.

Several moments after it had first appeared, a single human figure was 
suddenly disgorged from the midst of the rippling distortion, landing 
with a grunt as it did a quick tuck and roll.  Fortunately, there were 
no human witnesses to this strange arrival.  A few seconds later, the 
anomaly collapsed with a faint sort of sizzling sound.

                   ******************************

A slender, child-like figure, swathed in a gray robe, paused in the 
midst of her morning meditations, and a brief gasp of bewilderment was 
heard.  The low-hanging cowl of the robe's hood cast a deep shadow that 
hid much of the figure's face, but the mouth could still be seen.  And 
the lips of that mouth were now twisted into an expression of surprise.

"Another one?" came a puzzled voice from within the hood, youthful in 
tone.

On innumerable worlds across the cosmos, this slightly-built figure was 
called the Seer, an individual both blessed and cursed with a knowledge 
of future events.  Now, for the third time in her long existence, and 
without any hint of forewarning, an anomaly had appeared, bringing to 
life new lines of possibilities previously unknown.

                   ******************************

Quickly standing up from where she had come to rest, the odd visitor 
was revealed to be a teenaged girl, wearing what appeared to be a 
stylized version of the Furinkan uniform.  Brushing absently at some 
wayward dirt that had decided to cling to her uniform jacket, she 
quickly regained her bearings while muttering under her breath.  "I 
wonder where I am this time?  If I meet another 'traditional' Ranko 
Saotome who can only think of making sure her home and cooking will be 
acceptable for whomever her parents pick as her husband, I think I'll 
puke."

Glancing around the alleyway, Ranko was glad to see that she was alone.  
She let out a breath she had been holding, and her stomach rumbled with 
hunger.

She ignored her body's demands for food for the moment, reaching into 
her uniform's jacket pocket and pulling out a handheld device.  After 
examining the display briefly, she grunted once and replaced it within 
her jacket.  With a resigned look on her face, she headed out of the 
alleyway to the nearby street.

The few people on the street barely gave the girl a glance as she 
scanned the area outside the alleyway she had arrived in.  Her eyes 
quickly zeroed in on a small restaurant opening up for morning 
business.  She fingered the small bundle of yen-notes in one of her 
pockets, and she prayed that they would be accepted as the local 
currency.  Still, she would wash dishes if she needed to.  Many days 
spent on her lonely journey had taught her to be pragmatic.

Her home seemed like an eternity ago, even though it had been barely 
three weeks of time.  She supposed her parents were frantic for her to 
return, but each transition seemed to be taking her further and further 
away from them.  A wave of weariness washed over her, and she closed 
her eyes briefly and leaned back against a nearby wall.

She had been questing for anti-gravity, and the equation she had so 
painstakingly evolved from her father's work on quantum mechanics had 
seemed to point at it.  She patted the pocket where her 'anti-gravity' 
device rested.  Activating it that first time had produced a field 
effect that hung suspended in midair, roughly two meters in diameter, 
rings rippling outward from the center at random intervals.

Caught up in the wonder at what she had created, she had reached out 
and touched it-

Ranko snapped her eyes back open.  A few people on the street were now 
watching her curiously, her dirty uniform seeming to attract most of 
their attention.  She hurried across the street before anyone tried to 
speak to her.  Perhaps Furinkan did not exist on this version of Earth.  
Experience had shown her that it was much less trouble if she could 
blend in, so she ducked into a used clothing store.

She was normally better prepared for a transit, but some unexpected 
trouble on the last Earth had cost her the small carrysack she had 
acquired a few weeks ago.  Luckily, she had managed to hang onto the 
device, what she now dubbed her quantum tunneler.  At least a new world 
offered new possibilities for finding a way back home.  She was not 
about to lose hope so early in the game, and she would never give up.  
A Saotome never quit.

A few minutes later, Ranko emerged from the store, dressed in a more 
comfortable outfit than her uniform had been.  She had even lucked into 
finding a small backpack that she had stuffed her Furinkan uniform 
into.  And the sales clerk had even accepted the yen notes from her 
small horde of currency without question.  That meant she could get a 
meal and plan out her next move.  With a more cheerful look on her 
face, she started down the street.

She had walked only a few blocks, leisurely spending her time eyeing 
the various shops, when an unexpected weight suddenly landed on her and 
clung to her chest.  She stood frozen in surprise for a moment.

"Ranma, m'boy!" joyfully shouted Happosai.  He nuzzled his face against 
the fullness of the feminine bounty before him, restoring his battered 
body to full health, feeling quite content.  Now he could find out why 
Genma had packed up his two favorite cuties and left so suddenly.

Ranko lowered her gaze slowly, a fire kindling within her eyes.  She 
was familiar with this old letch, his name synonymous with a curse on a 
few of the timeline tangents she had visited during her journeys so 
far.  His appearance both raised questions and answered some.  For 
example, why was he calling her by a boy's name?  Did the Genma of this 
tangent name his daughter Ranma?  Either way, it didn't matter.  Right 
now she had a little pervert to pound into paste.

"Happosai," she growled.  It would feel good to let off some steam, and 
she was reasonably certain that the local populace would thank her for 
it.  She launched an attack at the tiny figure.  "Get off!"

The diminutive martial arts master (and notorious pervert) evaded the 
strike, reluctantly detaching himself from the redhead.  Still, nothing 
like a little playtime to work up an appetite for breakfast.  He set 
himself for her next attack, the two of them facing off with grim looks 
at each other.  That attack was not long in coming as the redheaded 
girl launched herself at him in a furious display of punches and kicks.  
He could see that the boy had improved his speed since the last time 
they last played together.

"So where's your father, Boy?" asked Happosai, dodging aside from one 
of Ranko's assaults and sending her spinning into a nearby wall with a 
jab from his pipe.

Her face had gone slightly numb from the impact against the wall, and 
she could feel blood trickling from her nose.  The little troll was 
fast!  She shook her head to clear it, suddenly smiling quite evilly.  
The little pervert was in for a little surprise.  She felt a familiar 
buzz rising up from the depths in the back of her brain.

"I don't know where Genma is, Happosai," she said truthfully.  She felt 
the buzz moving through her brain, eliciting little tremors of an 
almost erotic pleasure within her.  "But you should be more worried 
about me."  She felt the buzzing spread out to fill her mind-

-and Ranko boosted.

Happosai blinked in surprise as the redhead came at him even faster and 
stronger than before.  He dodged and parried several punches and kicks, 
before tossing the girl back into the same wall as he had before for 
her troubles, although not quite as casually as before.  She came right 
back at him a third time, but her blouse was now parted open from 
getting hung up on a protruding nail or something.  The sight of her 
ample feminine assets displayed for his gaze distracted him for a 
couple of moments, and her fist slammed hard into his face with bone-
crushing force, dazing him.  She then kicked him as hard as she could, 
launching him into the sky for parts unknown.

The matter of the ancient pervert now dealt with, she let her body fall 
out of boost.  She staggered for a moment in brief weakness as the 
biochemical stew began to purge from her system, and the redhead leaned 
against the wall that Happosai had been bouncing her off of.  She wiped 
a slight sheen of perspiration from her brow.  She had discovered that 
particular ability during her travels by accident, along with other 
things as well.

A cool breeze made itself felt against her semi-bare front, and she 
grimaced as she closed her blouse back up.  The topmost button had come 
off during the fight, leaving her looking perhaps a little bit daring 
in her wardrobe, but otherwise acceptable.  She shouldered her bag and 
headed off to get a meal.  Things always looked better after a good 
meal.

                   ******************************

Happosai crashed to the ground, leaving a small impact crater in the 
solid concrete that had broken his fall.  He levered himself up with a 
grimace, his vision still filled with occasional exploding stars.  He 
hurt, but he would recover.  He just needed to find a young lovely to 
press himself against, and his extensive injuries would heal.  Then he 
was going to find Ranma, the little punk, and show him the wrath of 
Happosai unleashed.  How dare he do this to him?

"Well, well, well," came an unfamiliar voice, and a foot planted itself 
hard in the small of his back.  "This looks like it's my lucky day.  
I've found you at last, Happosai."

The old man growled as his face was smashed into the shattered 
concrete.  Getting beaten up twice in one morning was quite enough 
'fun' for him.  He was not about to suffer it a third time.  Whoever 
this was, he was going to be sorry for picking on an old man in his 
time of misery.

With a grin, Pantyhose Tarou bent down to pick up the object of his 
quest.  He hoisted up the battered form of Happosai and shook him a 
bit.  He grinned even more broadly when the old man opened up one 
blackened eye and glared at him.  People on the street ignored the 
scene.  This was Nerima, after all.

"Now," the Chinese boy said lazily, "you and I have a serious matter to 
discuss, and I don't think you're in any shape to disagree with my 
demands."

"I'm not in the mood for this right now, ya little punk," grumbled the 
old lecher.  Then, without another word, he kicked himself free of 
Tarou's grip and dropped to the ground.  "Check back with me a little 
later, like next month."  His eyes then went wide as he saw a young 
woman bend down across the street to pick up her dropped purse, giving 
him a nice view.  Already forgetting the young man with the odd style 
of clothing, he started to bound off towards the woman.

Tarou snatched the old pervert out of the air, no longer grinning.  How 
dare this old man ignore him like that?  He shook the old man.  "I say 
when you're leaving, and not bef-"

Happosai landed back on the ground as he watched Tarou sail across the 
street, bouncing once or twice across the asphalt like a stone skipping 
across a pond.  He saw the boy slam into a building across the street, 
but it was not enough to do more than briefly daze him.  He sensed the 
buildup of a battle aura emerging from the boy within moments.  As he 
watched the Chinese boy stand back up, he took a few moments to get a 
quick recharge from a young woman standing nearby.  Strength flooded 
into his body, and he felt like a new man.

Quickly charging down the street and across it, Tarou was enraged to 
see the old pervert ignoring him again to feel up some woman.  He 
shoved people out of his way, trying to get through the crowd.  Nothing 
was going to keep him from his goal.  He shoved one last figure aside, 
a tall man dressed in a robe like some sort of street preacher, who had 
not gotten out of his way quickly enough.

Continuing on without missing a beat, he did not see the man stumble 
into the street.  Happosai was right there in front of him, and his 
vision had gone red with rage as he launched a flying kick at the old 
man.  Nothing was going to keep the ancient pervert from his wrath.

The figure in robes picked himself up and stared evilly at the youth 
who had the audacity to shove him aside, as though he were nothing more 
than a common man.  The boy would pay for that.  The figure had to save 
the majority of his power for the ultimate spell, but he had enough 
excess to deal with this fool.  Eldritch fire burned within him as he 
cast a spell, ordering, "See nothing!"

Without realizing it, every figure in sight averted their gaze from the 
man in the robes, finding their interest captivated by anything other 
than him.

A second spell was cast as black tentacles of pure magic extended from 
his fingertips, wrapping themselves around the unsuspecting Tarou's 
limbs and neck, hoisting him above the concrete of the sidewalk and 
preventing him from gaining any leverage with which to break out.

"Now you-" the figure suddenly paused in his threat as he saw something 
coming towards him from out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to see 
the grill of a bus no more than a half a foot from his face.  There was 
just enough time for him to realize his mistake in not leaving the 
street before casting his first spell.

The robed figure had time for only a single, choked-off cry before the 
bus smashed him to the ground, his form vanishing beneath the wheels of 
the vehicle.  Blood and gore splashed as his bones were crushed to pulp 
by the mass rolling over him, the pain ending for him when his skull 
shattered open.

For a moment, the driver thought he felt the bus run over something. 
But that was ridiculous.  He had been paying attention the entire time. 
He would have noticed if something had been in the road.  He had seen 
nothing there.  Nothing at all.

                   ******************************

A multitude of potential futures suddenly screamed out in anguish, and 
were immediately extinguished.

The Seer sagged slightly in relief as her inner Sight took it all in.

One previously unseen path had now become the true course of history, 
and what she had once feared would come to pass had been banished.  And 
it had all happened so quickly, it stunned even her.  Yet no one but 
herself should ever know the difference.

Shrugging her shoulders, the Seer continued her meditations.  Now that 
one crisis had been unexpectedly nullified, her attention could turn to 
other matters.  Somehow, elements from outside her awareness had begun 
appearing in this world recently.  The first two anomalies had been 
relatively mild in their immediate effect, casting out waves of change 
that were permeating slowly throughout the timeline.  But this latest 
anomaly had interacted with the changes instituted by the first two, 
with far more dramatic results.

She decided to investigate the newest anomaly, wondering what it would 
bring forth if it remained.  It was unprecedented for parahistory to 
affect history like it had been doing lately, and the Seer was somewhat 
concerned at the potential ramifications.  Numerous new pathways were 
already blossoming outwards from this point, pathways that had not 
existed before the latest anomaly's appearance.  She chose to follow a 
region of them where this anomaly decided to stay for awhile.  Her 
Sight reached out, and she beheld-

The Seer recoiled in shock, a sharp pain suddenly thrusting itself 
through her brain like a white-hot icepick.  She blinked back tears of 
agony, and almost absently she noticed a wetness beginning to trickle 
from her nose.  She touched it, and her fingers came away marked with 
crimson fluid.  She stared at the spectacle, somewhat in shock, and the 
sheer novelty of feeling shocked at anything anymore was a surprise in 
itself.  The future had been an open book to her for so long, and now 
it was as if someone had come along and ripped out the last pages.

Taking a few moments to recover her composure, she daubed away the 
blood with a strip of cloth torn from her robe, keeping her inner Sight 
tightly veiled.  When she was ready to try again, she began a more 
delicate and careful probing of that portion of future pathways.  A 
twinge of pain distracted her momentarily, reminding her that she was 
still mortal enough to feel such things.  But she set that aside, 
slowly roaming her awareness forward on the flows of time.  She came to 
a certain point, somewhat less than a year in the future, and then 
there was nothing.

The Seer pulled back her Sight in the instant that it came into contact 
with that terrible void again.  She roved across numerous alternate 
pathways, seeking an incarnation of the future that was free of that 
absolute nihility.  Even if this third anomaly moved onwards soon, 
which was the likeliest event, other futures retained a slightly unreal 
quality to them beyond the point she had Seen before.  She would not 
have noticed such a thing ordinarily, as the future always lacked the 
crispness of the present.  It was a slight flickering effect, as if 
time was uncertain of its own continued existence.  But if the anomaly 
did not go, then every possible future past that decision point ended 
the same way, cut short as if by a knife.

Parahistory was beyond her Sight, a limitation of her awareness, as was 
her own fate.  She could See the future in all its possible 
incarnations, but all other possibilities vanished from her ken when 
one of them became a fixed part of time by becoming the present.  She 
had occasionally wondered if the parahistories continued to evolve, and 
apparently they did.  The notion that an unknown number of timelines 
were running alongside her own was somewhat awe-inspiring, even for 
someone as intimately familiar with time as herself.

However, something new was brewing out there beyond her ability to See, 
something dangerous, and now parahistory was beginning to collide with 
history.  In truth, she was a little bit frightened to think that 
something could happen in some distant form of parahistory that could 
wipe away her own world as well.  How did one fight back against such a 
danger?  What could this anomaly, this 'Ranko Saotome', be capable of 
doing on some other version of Earth that could save or damn the Seer's 
own?

No answers were forthcoming, so she began examining all the myriad 
future pathways, seeking them.  Even if the girl left this world, there 
was no guarantee that the future was safe.  Something was coming that 
endangered all worlds, somehow destroying entire universes.  And the 
effect was not quick and merciful; it built up over several weeks.  
Stars flared and died, and natural laws warped.  Sentient beings across 
the universe panicked as the effect struck everywhere at once, building 
to a climax.  And then there was nothing, an endless void of emptiness 
where a vibrant, living universe had once been.

Ignoring warning twinges of pain, The Seer began examining those last 
few seconds of time, magnifying them.  There had to be something she 
could use.  Sensing the void inevitably approaching, she slowed down 
her point of view even more, rendering a moment into something that the 
human mind could grasp and examine in detail.  Then, she finally saw 
it.

In that last instant of time, the fabric of the universe sundered open, 
and something from beyond rendered the infinite into nothingness with 
jarring suddenness.  The sheer magnitude of such an act of destruction 
was almost majestic in its obscenity.  With incredible difficulty, she 
wrenched her Sight away from viewing beyond that last instant, knowing 
that to look upon what came after it would be like staring the fabled 
Gorgon full in the eyes.

Upon returning to the present, her physical body having been pushed 
beyond its endurance, she collapsed to the floor of her chamber, 
unconscious.

                   ******************************

Ranko set the plate down to join three others and sighed contentedly.  
She knew from recent experience that the increase in her appetite was a 
result of using the boost, causing her body to require refueling.  It 
was an annoyance, but it was a relatively small price to pay for having 
such an ability available for her use.  She enjoyed having an edge like 
that, especially now that she was on her own.

Ranko pulled out a handheld device that somewhat resembled a cellular 
telephone, checking to see if it was done with its calculations yet.  
Sometimes it took a while, but it was already done this time.  The 
digital display across the front read '00:00:22:43' as she nodded once.

Originally, it had been designed to create an anti-gravity field, but 
now she called it a quantum tunneler, an electronic key that opened up 
gateways to new worlds.  The device's timer display and its quantum 
flux scanning circuits had been added on her third transit, when she 
lucked across another version of her lab space that was set up quite 
similarly to how it was back home.

Her first two transits had apparently been due to blind luck, since she 
had later learned that a paratunnel between alternate timelines would 
only form when the paraequipotential flux was aligned just right.  The 
owner of that other lab had been experimenting with scanning these 
ambient flux levels as a possible means of communicating with alternate 
worlds, but the research had proven to be very helpful for her own 
needs.  She had taken the liberty of appropriating samples of the 
scanning circuitry into her own device, when she realized that the 
irregular peaks in energy levels were the times when transit was 
possible.

Since then, she had been struggling to discover how to return home.  
She determined quite early on that there seemed to be no way to chart a 
course to a specific tangent, so, for the present, she was left with 
random jumps between alternate versions of history.  It was interesting 
in many ways, and an adventure unlike any other, to see how different 
each timeline was.  But she missed home.  Still, she was certain that 
someday, somehow, she would find her way back.

Ranko blinked and realized she had been staring at the display while 
she was lost in thought, the last two digits relentlessly counting down 
seconds.  She carefully tucked it away in a pocket.  There was no 
particular danger in staying past the timer reaching zero, but she 
preferred to keep moving, a quirk of wanderlust within her.  If she did 
remain, the device would simply recalculate the next possible transit 
time, when the quantum flux would align with another random timeline 
tangent, but that could leave her stranded here for longer than she 
cared for.  Besides, this version of Earth did not appear to offer her 
any reasons for staying longer.

With only a little over twenty minutes before the next transit window, 
she knew exactly what she had to do.

"Waitress?  I'm ready to pay my bill.  And could you direct me to the 
nearest store that sells camping gear?"  She always made a point of 
picking up some supplies before a jump, just in case.

A short time later, she ducked into a random alleyway.  It was almost 
time to go, and she preferred to remain out of sight when she did a 
transit.  Her small pack was filled with food, a canteen of water, and 
small essentials she liked to have on her, like matches.  She slid the 
device from her pocket, pointed it at the empty air while the last 
seconds ticked down to zero, and activated it.

A rippling appeared in the air, as the paratunnel yawned open before 
her.  She took one last look at her surroundings, a world that would 
take little notice that she had ever passed through, and jumped in.  
There was a brief flash of light from the distortion, and then she was 
gone, continuing onwards on her solitary quest for her home.

A few moments later, the anomaly collapsed back into nothingness with a 
faint sizzling sound.

                   ******************************

*** Earth  0.000,0.000

Ranma blinked his eyes open as the smells of food cooking assailed his 
nostrils.  In response to the delicious aromas arising from the kitchen 
downstairs, his stomach growled lingeringly.  Throwing off the thick 
comforter, he sat up on his futon and winced slightly as his bruised 
muscles reminding him of their existence.  He stretched, his body 
protesting a bit at first, but the pains faded.

As he stretched, he glimpsed himself in the mirror on his closet door, 
unexpectedly seeing the face of a familiar redhead out of the corner of 
his eye.  He turned in surprise, but he saw only himself when his gaze 
was fully upon the mirror.  He shrugged, wondering why he had recalled 
Ranko at that moment.  He suspected that memories from his female 
counterpart were somewhere within him, but they seemed buried far 
deeper than those of his martial artist analog.  It was just as well.  
He wasn't sure if his male ego was ready to handle the notion that a 
girl's mind slumbered somewhere within his own.

It was Sunday morning.  He could hear two muffled voices talking 
downstairs, everything seeming so normal for the Saotome household, at 
least on the surface.  But the truth was different.  Ranma frowned as 
he realized that two weeks had now gone by since the accident with his 
father.  However, instead of immediately taking a pro-active stance and 
dealing with the situation on his own terms, he had let himself get 
pushed around by recent events.  He was no better than his Jusenkyo-
cursed counterparts were in that respect, but that stopped now.

During the long car ride home yesterday, the girls had been giving him 
a large dose of cold shoulder.  Combined with the lingering pains of 
his physical injuries, it had made for an unpleasant situation.  He had 
retreated into silence, confused as to why they had seemed so angry 
with him.  But the whole situation with Utena and Ohtori Academy had 
been perplexing from start to finish.  Both Nabiki and Kodachi had 
apparently felt free to flirt with other guys, but they would not let 
him even talk with another girl without suddenly acting weird.

He had also not missed the looks that the two boys had been giving his 
two female companions.  But what still astonished him was his own 
reaction to that, a primitive urge arising within himself to defend his 
territory.  Ranma snorted, amazed that he could be so atavistically 
male.  He could reluctantly admit that it irritated him to see other 
guys spending time with the two girls.  Not that he was jealous, he 
quickly amended.  They were his friends, even Nabiki, and he didn't 
trust the intentions of smooth guys like those two Ohtori cadets.

Besides, none of the girls were officially his fiancée in this tangent, 
so he had no standing to claim any sort of ownership rights over them.  
And he knew, even if he did, it would just spark another argument with 
Nabiki.  She obviously wanted to order him around, and no girl was ever 
going to do that to him.  Ever since she had downloaded those memories 
from that Jusenkyo-cursed analog of hers, she had begun acting dominant 
and possessive towards him.  And why did he keep thinking about a bossy 
chick like Nabiki Tendo?

He shook his head at that last, errant thought.  Random bits of his 
martial artist counterpart continued to surface within him at the 
oddest times.  Still, maybe if he mouthed off to Nabiki like his analog 
would have in this situation, it would show her that he was his own 
man, not her follower.  He grinned at the thought of her reaction.  He 
was sure it would prompt something, and brawling with the Tendo girl 
was certainly easier than trying to figure out what was going on inside 
her head.

However, thinking about Nabiki brought his thoughts back to a previous 
matter.  Toga Kiryu and Miki Kaoru looked like they were going to be 
trouble for him in the near future, but at least neither boy had looked 
like much of a threat if it came down to some sort of physical 
confrontation, especially Miki.  Toga might be a momentary challenge, 
but he would more likely prove to be all show, with nothing to back it 
up, like Mikado Sanzenin had turned out to be.

One bright spot had occurred during the car ride.  Kodachi had briefly 
broken the chilly silence to invite him to come by her home today.  She 
had found a room in the mansion for him to use as his new laboratory in 
one of the household's unused wings.  Even more encouraging, she had 
also taken care of requisitioning the equipment and components he would 
need to continue his work.  It was already waiting for his use.

Ranma dressed quickly, putting on one of the Chinese-style shirts he 
now owned and a pair of black gi-style pants.  The smell of food from 
downstairs was calling to him relentlessly.  He had to get down there 
before the fake Genma ate everything.

After casually springing over the banister, he headed down the stairs 
three at a time.  He skidded to a halt outside the main room of the 
house, seeing only Genma seated there.  The sound of his mother working 
on breakfast was heard from the direction of the kitchen.

"About time you got up, you lazy layabout," rumbled Genma.  He went 
back to reading the morning paper.  "A real martial artist is up with 
the sun to train.  You have no discipline."

"You're a fine one to talk."  Ranma sat down at his usual place at the 
breakfast table.  "All I've seen your fat butt do around this house for 
the past couple of weeks is eat and sleep.  At least you haven't gotten 
fired, so I guess miracles do happen."

Genma made an attempt at ignoring the remarks, but a slight throbbing 
of a vein in his forehead belied that.

"Breakfast is served," announced Nodoka as she breezed in from the 
kitchen bearing two large plates of food.  Her shoulder twinged a bit 
from carrying the weight, but she ignored the pain.  She set down the 
plates and eyed the two Saotome men.  She wondered why her husband and 
son seemed so tense with each other lately.  The first month back, they 
had been like best friends.

Ranma held out his bowl, narrowly edging out Genma to get served first.  
He ignored the older man's grumbles.  The pigtailed boy smiled slightly 
at the amusing irony of using one of this Genma's unsuccessful plots, 
attempting to engage him to Kodachi, and turning it back to his own 
advantage.  Her wealth would be invaluable in continuing his work.

"Oh, Ranma, before I forget," Nodoka announced suddenly.  "This came 
for you in the mail."  She handed the pigtailed boy a small package 
addressed to him.  There was no return address.

He set down his rice bowl, but he kept one eye on Genma, just in case.  
The package was small, a square roughly twice the size of his palm and 
perhaps three centimeters thick.  He ripped open one end and shook out 
the contents.  A silvery CD-ROM in a plastic case slid out into his 
hand.  A note fluttered out, and he snatched it out of the air.

All it said was, "Are you smart enough to break the code?"  The small 
piece of paper was ordinary, and the text was laser printed in the 
center.

Ranma decided to have a look at it later.  As intriguing as the mystery 
of the silvery disk was, he needed to get over to the Kunos and begin 
setting up his new workspace.  He heard his stomach rumble.  After he 
finished breakfast, that is.

                   ******************************

Yawning daintily, Kodachi padded into the training hall for a workout 
before breakfast.  The light green gi resting on her athletic frame was 
composed of the finest silks, adorned across one breast with a small 
black rose done in needlepoint, an elaborate design she had embroidered 
herself.  She had seen the gi on one of her most recent shopping 
excursions, finding it to be a fitting garb for her borrowed nom de 
guerre as 'The Black Rose.'

The young noblewoman's footsteps faltered slightly as she beheld an 
unexpected figure waiting for her in the training hall.  She paused in 
the doorway, surprised to see her mother within the room.

"Hello, Kodachi," said Kenseiko calmly, her face stilled of all 
emotion.  She was dressed in a dark green leotard, a loose top of 
purple silk, and thin-soled boots of black leather that laced up her 
shins.  She was seated in a lotus position in the middle of the room.  
"I've been waiting for you."

"G-good morning, Mother."  She bowed quickly before coming into the 
room and kneeling in front of the older woman.

Kenseiko nodded in reply, and her previous, cool-eyed gaze continued 
without relent as she gazed at her only daughter.  Without preamble, 
she said, "I've been doing some thinking of late, Dachi-chan, about 
your sudden interest in fighting."  She then paused, studying the girl 
before her, a living reflection of herself from some twenty years in 
the past.  She briefly wondered where all the time had gone.

The girl braced herself for the storm.  It looked to be bad, judging by 
the solemn look on her mother's face.

"Mother, I-" Kodachi began, halting abruptly when her mother held up a 
hand.

"I was wrong to hinder you," Kenseiko said calmly.  She then broke out 
into a slight smile.  "You are your mother's daughter, after all."

Kodachi was left momentarily speechless.  She stared at her mother, her 
confusion evident.

"I tried for many years to put what I saw as the mistakes of my youth 
behind me," said Kenseiko, her gaze drifting to look out the window as 
she spoke.  She was silent for several moments, and the slight smile on 
her lips broadened a bit as she was temporarily lost in reverie.  She 
turned back to face Kodachi.  "I know it is probably hard to believe, 
but I was once a teenage girl like yourself, filled with the burning 
passions of adolescence.  And I see those same passions within you, the 
same fighting spirit.  I should not have tried to stifle them."

Kodachi finally found her voice, and she said, "But you always told me 
that fighting was unladylike."

"The same words that my mother told me," replied Kenseiko grimly.  She 
stood up suddenly, her presence seeming to magnify.  "But your heritage 
is done a disservice by enforcing such a narrow view of feminine roles 
upon them.  For centuries, the women of the Empire have fought, and 
sometimes died, alongside men to forge the world we are part of today.  
This has been true ever since the days of Oda Nobunaga and his 
reforms."

"The first women to accept Nobunaga-san's offer and take up the daisho 
as warriors were mockingly called samurai-ko," Kenseiko said with a 
slight smile.  "But they proved themselves equal to men in the eyes of 
the code of bushido.  And some of the greatest warriors that our Empire 
has ever known since those bygone days have been women.  Who can say 
what the world would be like without their presence in history?"

Kodachi nodded in agreement, held spellbound by her mother's words.

Apparently warming to the subject, Kenseiko continued, "But my mother 
was different in her views.  She felt that a woman as warrior was an 
utter abomination.  It was only recently that events have shown me how 
wrong she was, how wrong I was in acting like her.  You and I are 
warriors, Dachi-chan.  I see that now.  We are samurai-ko."

"Yes, Mother," answered Kodachi, her eyes shining with pride.  She 
bowed deeply to her mother.

Kenseiko felt a combination of pride, satisfaction, and love filling 
her as she gazed upon her daughter, seeing the future of the Kunos 
before her.  But it also struck her as ironic that it had taken the re-
appearance of her most hated rival to show her the error of her ways, 
not that she would ever admit such a thing to Nodoka.  A smile quirked 
her lips.  Getting the better of her old rival had been sweet indeed, 
despite the brevity of the encounter.  She hoped that their next battle 
would last much longer.  She was looking forward to it a great deal.

Raising her head from the bow, Kodachi gazed at her mother silently.  
Memories of another world flickered behind her eyes, where the woman 
now standing before her had been dead for some time.  But that world 
was only a tattered memory now, and Kodachi realized with astonishment 
that she had not thought about her previous existence for some time.  
She was no longer that person, a terrified girl who had fled a bleak 
reality.  On some deep level inside herself, she knew that to be true.

Yet it was the legacy of that shy, lonely girl she once was which had 
enabled her to be a warrior now, bringing with her the scattered pieces 
of several lives and forging a new Kodachi Kuno from them.  That girl 
had died and been reborn into a new life, a fusion of souls that was 
somehow greater than the sum of its parts.  Together, they were 
complete.

Kenseiko had noticed her daughter's introspective look, and she softly 
cleared her throat to regain the girl's attention.  She smiled gently 
at Kodachi.

"I would like to teach you, Dachi-chan.  Let me be to you the sort of 
mother that I wish my own had been to me.  Your brother has accepted 
your father as his sensei.  Will you accept me as yours?"

Kodachi, startled by the question, nodded after a moment of thought and 
said, "I would be honored to have you coach me, Mother."  She smiled, 
feeling hope rise within her that perhaps the older woman could give 
her some scrap of martial arts lore that would let her finally defeat 
the middle Tendo daughter.  It was a most pleasant thought.

"Excellent."  Kenseiko walked over to the wall and pulled off a bo 
staff.  She tossed it to her daughter, who caught it with ease, and 
then lifted off a second one.  "We will begin with the staff, but I 
intend to work you through every weapon in this room until you have 
mastered them all to my satisfaction.  Adaptability and versatility are 
two of the greatest weapons that a warrior can have, Dachi-chan."

Kodachi began twirling the staff around her body with grace and skill 
evident in her every movement.  She sensed her mother's gaze quietly 
judging her.

Walking around Kodachi as she went through a simple kata with the 
weapon, Kenseiko studied her daughter's technique.  The girl had 
received some training from somewhere, but she could still use some 
work.  She smiled, sensing tremendous potential in her daughter's 
weapon skills.  The girl was going to be a pleasure to train.  Then let 
Kodachi's rivals beware.

                   ******************************

Nabiki paused in her morning workout, suddenly feeling an odd sensation 
of foreboding.  She glanced around the training hall she was currently 
sharing with Akane, and quickly decided that she was just experiencing 
nervous tension.  That irritated her, another sign that she had been 
letting the situation with Ranma go on for far too long.  It was pretty 
obvious that, despite his powers of intellect in certain areas, when it 
came to dealing with relationships, he was a complete and total idiot.

At least the matter of Utena Tenjou was finally dealt with.  The girl 
could not have misunderstood the frosty looks that Nabiki had been 
giving her yesterday.  Combined with her having bodily dragged Ranma 
away from the pink-haired bimbo, it should have been quite clear to 
even the dimmest mind that she already had a proprietary interest in 
him.  She felt the message was quite clear: Ranma Saotome was off 
limits!

Nabiki suddenly drove her fist forward in a lightning-fast blow, and 
the top segment snapped cleanly off of the rope-wrapped wooden post she 
had been punching to toughen her hands.  She felt the unconscious surge 
of chi quickly fading from her fist as she relaxed it back open, a 
slight smirk appearing on her face.  Her hand was totally unmarked.

Pausing in her own workout, Akane glanced across the room at her older 
sister, secretly glad for an excuse to take a break from doing push-
ups.  After doing two hundred of them on each arm, one-handed fingertip 
style, the muscles in her shoulders and arms were definitely feeling 
the strain.  She decided to forego the last set of a hundred she 
normally did daily on each hand, not wanting to stress her healing body 
more than she had to.  Tomorrow or the next day, she was certain that 
she would be back up to doing her full routine.

After rolling over onto her back, she sat up, panting slightly as she 
felt her endurance returning.  Picking up a nearby towel, Akane began 
to wipe the perspiration from her face.  She felt much better now than 
she had upon waking up, the exercise having gotten her blood flowing 
and warming her up.  A shower and a hot bath would leave her feeling 
like a new woman after this.

Sakura was coming by in a little while, and she was looking forward to 
going shopping with the other girl today.  Despite her irritation at 
her friend's refusal to fight another challenge match with her, Akane 
had decided that keeping her friendship was more important than her own 
wounded pride.  And the other girl reminded her so much of herself, 
that it was impossible to stay mad over such a little thing.  Besides, 
with Sakura in her corner, she was certain she would utterly crush her 
next opponent.

Shopping was going to be a pleasant change of pace for her free day of 
the week, since her time was usually spent training for the entire day 
on Sundays.  It would also give her a chance to find an outfit that 
would catch Ranma's attention.  She had looked over her wardrobe and 
quickly found it to be far too utilitarian and dull for attracting a 
boy's interest.  She had debated borrowing some of Nabiki's clothes, 
but her older sister was rather possessive about her things.

Nabiki nodded to Akane as her younger sister got up and headed out of 
the training hall, receiving a grunt and a nod in return.  It was very 
typical of the girl, Nabiki noticed with a smirk, her younger sister 
having never been what could be called the most eloquent of people.  At 
least with all of this Combat Club activity keeping her occupied, the 
girl should lose her interest in Ranma soon enough.

Turning her attentions to the training hall's new punching bag, Nabiki 
put the matter of the odd foreboding she had felt earlier out of her 
mind.  The room began to resonate with the sounds of her fists and feet 
brutalizing the heavy bag.

                   ******************************

The forests of the Koga Mountain region were thought to be places of 
mystery and magic according to popular folklore, haunted by ogres, 
demons, and the legendary shadow warriors known as ninja.  The populace 
of the Empire had long been fascinated with lurid tales of their deeds, 
and tourists would come from far and wide to visit the region every 
year.  It was amusing to the local populace to see such visitors, even 
as they enjoyed the influx of money brought by tourists hoping to see a 
real ninja.

Genji Kuonji was one of those who was amused by the antics of tourists, 
and he considered how members of his clan hid in plain sight to be one 
of the best tricks of the ninja.  He strolled along through part of his 
beloved forests, enjoying the brisk air.  He had always loved mornings 
in the mountains, especially when it was springtime.  Wearing the garb 
of a simple Shinto priest, he did not look at all the part of a shinobi 
master, but then that was the idea.  Such simple disguises had allowed 
members of his clan to freely wander the Empire for many centuries.  In 
his time of service to the Emperor, he had taken on many roles, from 
simple farmer to okonomiyaki chef.  Now that he was nominally retired, 
he spent his days walking the region as a wandering priest.

A crashing sound emerged from the forest in front of him, and he looked 
on in amusement as a rather sizable-looking figure of a man came 
barreling out of the trees, a large pack on his back.  The other man 
came to a halt in the clearing, and Genji nodded as he recognized who 
it was.  Even after over ten years having passed since their last 
encounter, it was hard not to recognize the patriarch of the Hibikis, 
Shiro.

Briefly pausing to catch his breath, Shiro Hibiki flipped back his 
thick ponytail of iron-gray hair.  A tattered and useless map was 
clutched tightly in his other hand, and he squinted at it for a few 
moments before growling like a bear.  Three days he had been on this 
accursed quest, when an old man of his advanced years should be taking 
it easy.  He would still be taking it easy, but somebody had to go out 
looking for his lost grandson.  The boy had been gone for too long on 
his last excursion.

"Are you lost?" inquired a mild voice behind him.

Shiro blinked, and he muttered, "I know that voice."  Turning around, 
he spied an elderly monk standing there.  He would recognize that smug 
look anywhere.  His hands balled into fists, the tendons cracking from 
the sheer strength he was putting into it.  Irritation filled his 
voice.  "Genji."

"Nice to see you too, Shiro," said the old ninja master pleasantly.  
"This is just like old times."

Even Genji was not prepared for the speed of the other man's sudden 
assault, as Shiro's hand closed around his throat and dragged them nose 
to nose with each other.

"I'll make this really simple, Kuonji."  Shiro's voice held an almost 
icy calm.  "Where's my grandson?"

Genji's only reply was to make choking sounds, and his face turned the 
most alarming shade of red for a man of his years.  Noticing that after 
a moment, Shiro almost reluctantly loosened his grip.  The two men eyed 
each other for several moments.

"The boy is off chasing Ukyo," said the old ninja after finally 
regaining his breath.  "I imagine he's well on his way to Tokyo by now, 
ranting about the usual things that you Hibikis go on about, like his 
vendetta against Ukyo."

"Why would he still have a vendetta against his own fiancée?" asked 
Shiro mildly as he lifted the other man clear of the ground.  "It was 
agreed that you would tell them this time around."  He sighed briefly.  
"I never should have been a part of this farce all these years."

Genji swallowed nervously, not liking the grim calm in the other man's 
voice, and he said, "It made them both stronger.  They'll need that 
strength when the Goju finally return."

"All I wanted was for our grandchildren to finally put an end to this 
petty feud between our clans," said Shiro tiredly.  "It would have been 
over a generation ago, if it wasn't for Yumi's idiocy.  That girl was 
always far too headstrong.  Typical Kuonji woman.  And don't you 
lecture me about the Goju, Genji Kuonji.  I know what the Faceless Ones 
are capable of.  I killed enough of the shadow-spawned bastards when I 
was younger, didn't I?  Maybe we're lucky, and their threat is finally 
extinct."

Genji sighed at his old rival's naivete.  The Goju had once been the 
greatest of the shinobi clans, highly-skilled in the arts of combat, 
deception, and trickery.  But that had not been enough for the clan 
leader, and he had entered into a pact with Darkness itself, forever 
damning himself and his clan.  The Darkness had given the Goju great 
power, but there had been a most terrible price.

He had told Ukyo that the Faceless Ones would come to get her if she 
did not do well in her training.  "Boy, the Goju will come for you, if 
you don't totally dedicate yourself to your training," he would say.  
Only by listening to him and obeying his teachings would she be safe 
from them.  With regret, he remembered seeing her small form quiver in 
fear beneath her covers as a young child, staring wide-eyed at the 
shadows on the wall after hearing one of his more lurid stories.

When she was older, he had given her some scrolls to read, relating 
more tales about the Goju and their many abilities.  How they were able 
to change their shape and mimic any form, appear and disappear like 
smoke, and to move with amazing quickness.  All it had cost them were 
their souls, utterly consumed by the Darkness, absorbing the very 
identities of its servants and leaving behind a faceless figure that 
was nothing more than an empty puppet.  The Faceless Ones were the dark 
side of shinobi magics, but they stood as both an object lesson and a 
warning.

They were also still frighteningly real, lurking somewhere out in the 
shadowy corners of the Empire, hungering for revenge.

"There's also another complication," he said, hoping that Shiro would 
not overreact and blame him.  He always blamed him for everything that 
went wrong in their lives, ever since they had been boys getting into 
trouble together.

"Maybe I should just kill you now and finally end the terrible misery 
that you've always brought to my life ever since I first met you," 
answered the other man with disgust.

"Ukyo's been engaged to another boy, in Tokyo," said Genji quickly.  He 
shut his eyes, not wanting to see the blow coming.

What startled him was not the expected roar of rage, but an amused 
chuckling come from Shiro.  He peeked one eye open cautiously, and he 
felt the other man drop his feet back into contact with the ground.

"That's just perfect," said Shiro somewhat sarcastically.  "When Ryoga 
finds out the truth, that Ukyo is really a girl _and_ his fiancée, he's 
going to turn this other kid into paste.  Then we can both kiss goodbye 
our hopes of uniting our two clans.  This is going to be just like the 
debacle with Yumi all over again.  I can feel it."

"Ukyo's father says that the boy is a martial artist."

Shiro stopped chuckling, and he cautiously asked, "How good?"

"My source tells me that he's good enough to give Ukyo a run for her 
money." He risked a smirk.  "And she's been sending your grandson back 
home in defeat for almost ten years."

Shiro growled, "Don't remind me.  Do you have any idea how humiliating 
it is to know that my grandson keeps losing to a girl?  But if there's 
one thing every Hibiki loves, it's a good vendetta.  It gets the blood 
pumping, you know.  And Ryoga's need to beat your granddaughter has let 
me throw every form of training that I know at the boy.  He's easily 
twice the fighter I was at his age because of it.  So, what's the name 
of Ukyo's soon-to-be-hospitalized other fiancé?"

"Ranma.  Ranma Saotome."

The Hibiki patriarch stroked his chin thoughtfully, and he finally 
said, "Well, if this Saotome kid knows what's good for him, he'll just 
step aside and give Ukyo to Ryoga without a fight.  Otherwise, I can 
sense a new Hibiki-style vendetta in the makings."

                   ******************************

Ranma paused in consuming his breakfast, distracted by an odd sensation 
of foreboding suddenly coming over him.  He even stopped shoveling food 
into his mouth for several moments because of it.

Genma was quick in attempting to take advantage of the pigtailed boy's 
distraction and reached for an extra bit of food, but a lightning-fast 
strike from Nodoka's chopsticks caught him by surprise.  He yelped, but 
she had already returned to her own eating as if nothing untoward had 
occurred.  He glanced at her, and she returned his gaze with a single 
upraised eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, Dearest?" she asked innocently.  When he did not 
reply and simply went back to eating more sedately, she smiled 
knowingly, hoping that she had gotten her point across.  It had been 
less than two weeks since she last chastised him, and he was already 
returning to his bad eating habits.  It seemed that sterner measures 
would be required until he began behaving acceptably at the table.  She 
went back to eating.

Ranma had been ignoring the commotion at the table, trying to determine 
why that odd feeling had struck him.  Hearing his stomach rumble 
queryingly over the break in food delivery, he shrugged his shoulders 
and quickly went back to consuming his breakfast.

"Ranma dear," said Nodoka suddenly.  "You seemed distracted."

The pigtailed boy hastily swallowed and mumbled, "Just got a lot to do 
today."

"It's a nice day," commented Nodoka.  "You've been cooped up training 
all week, so you should do something enjoyable today.  Why don't you 
take one of your prospective brides out on a date?  You've spent time 
with Ukyo already.  I'm sure Kodachi would love to spend the day with 
you.  She seemed quite taken with you.  Or maybe you prefer the Tendo 
girl, Nabiki?"

Ranma briefly had the look of an animal caught in the headlights of an 
oncoming car, before saying, "Uh, I'm going to visit with Kodachi.  On 
the ride back home yesterday, she invited me out to see her today."  He 
quickly went back to eating his breakfast, hoping that was the end of 
it.

Genma nodded approvingly.  The money from the young noblewoman's dowry 
would allow for a fine retirement for him, as well as finance some of 
the private projects he had cooking.  He smiled at the thought of all 
that wealth soon to come into his possession.  Not to mention that any 
world without the scourge of Happosai in it was like heaven.

"Why that's wonderful," Nodoka replied with a smile.  "I'm sure that 
she's counting the minutes until you arrive."

"I'm sure she is," interjected Genma, earning a dark glance from Ranma.  
"There isn't a woman born that can resist the Saotome charm, so use 
that to your advantage, m'boy."

Ranma somehow resisted the urge to put his fist through the man's face.  
Instead, he contented himself with the knowledge that the fake's days 
were now numbered.  Once he was back where he belonged, then life could 
go back to normal, and he would finally have his real father to talk 
with again.  That thought was enough to brighten his darkening mood.

Feeling more contented, he went back to eating his breakfast.

                   ******************************

Ryoko Masaki emerged from her blankets and bedroll with a wide-mouthed 
yawn and a leisurely stretch.  She glanced over at her new travelling 
companion, seeing him still cocooned in his own bedroll against the 
chill in the morning air.  A grin appeared on her face.  It was time to 
get the blood moving a bit before breakfast.

"Wake up, Hibiki-kun," Ryoko grunted out, standing up and prodding the 
blanket-wrapped boy with a toe.

He responded with a single mumbled word, and then he went back to 
snoring.

"Come on, you lazy slug," Ryoko urged him.  "Get up."  She nudged him 
again, not so gently this time.

Ryoga snapped awake, thinking he was under attack, and he promptly got 
tangled up in his blankets while trying to respond to the threat.  He 
rolled around and nearly ended up in the banked coals of the fire, 
hearing an outburst of feminine laughter at his plight.  Trying to 
ignore it, he freed himself from his blankets and stood up.  She was 
still laughing.

"I was sleeping."

Ryoko raised one eyebrow and inquired, "Do you want breakfast?"

He grunted once and nodded, still feeling out of sorts for his rude 
awakening from slumber.  After the past few days on the road with this 
girl, he knew what was going to come next.  It had been the same thing 
every morning and evening.

"Then you have to earn it," she said, taking up a combat stance.  She 
smiled wolfishly.  "I'm waiting, Lost Boy."

Ryoga really hated being called by that name.  He suspected she only 
said it to goad him into attacking her, knowing how much he hated to be 
reminded of the Hibikis' infamously poor sense of direction, but it 
still irked him.  He eyed her, knowing also that she wouldn't feed him 
unless he gave it a good try against her, part of the agreement they 
had between each other as they traveled together.  Even so, it still 
bothered him to spar with a girl.  A guy shouldn't fight with a girl.  
It was just wrong.

"I'm getting bored over here, Lost Boy," the Masaki girl taunted.  She 
held her position, watching him rather casually.  "Anytime you wanna 
try your luck, come at me."

Narrowing his gaze as the taunt struck home, he attacked.  He still 
held back a little, unable to bring himself to spar with her at his 
full ability, but a spectator would not have known it from the fury of 
their initial exchange.  Hard-won experience had shown Ryoga that she 
was as strong as any Hibiki girl.

They traded punches and kicks, his initial charge briefly giving him 
the advantage, one he quickly exploited, hoping to end this fast.  He 
pressed forward aggressively, driving combinations of punches and kicks 
against Ryoko's defenses.  But her guard held firm, even as she slowly 
gave ground, eventually slowing his advance.  He tried again to press 
forward, but the girl with blue-green hair stubbornly refused to yield 
another centimeter of terrain to him.

Her face was a study in determination, even as she played immovable 
object to her sparring partner's irresistible force.  She was holding 
back for sparring purposes, but not by as much as she had against other 
opponents.  It was a rather heady experience to give more of herself to 
a match like she was doing, knowing that she would not cripple her foe 
if one of her strikes landed, even if she wasn't putting her full 
strength behind it.

Slowly, step by step, she began forcing the Hibiki boy back, slipping 
in punches and kicks through the small niches in his defenses.  They 
weren't hard enough to be more than bruising, but they showed that the 
initiative was falling back to her.  Her attacks continued 
relentlessly, each strike landing with speed and precision.  She 
regained the ground she had initially given up, refusing to re-yield 
it.  As she did so, she began to smile.

Ryoga managed to regain the initiative for brief times, but he could 
only seem to temporarily stalemate his opponent, not force her back.  
It was irritating to find himself losing to a girl, and he blamed it on 
his own lingering scraps of reticence about this whole thing.  He was 
also distracted by that smile of hers.  It was an honest sort of smile, 
actually quite cute, not mocking, like her words to him frequently 
were.

It was only because she was feeding him and helping him with his quest 
that he was hanging around such an annoying girl, or so he kept 
reminding himself.  She was at her worst immediately after one of their 
sparring matches, but she would continue to mercilessly taunt and tease 
him throughout the day as they walked towards Tokyo.  She seemed to 
find his disability with directions a source of endless fun, calling 
him 'Lost Boy' all the time.  By the time dinner rolled around, he was 
spoiling for another match against her, and he sometimes wondered if 
that was her game.

Of course, it would be nice if he won occasionally.  But she kept 
beating him, and it was getting increasingly annoying.  This was yet 
another indignity that he laid at Ukyo's feet.  He could see the smug 
ninja boy's face now, mocking him for losing to a girl.  And that would 
be just like that damnable Kuonji too, to throw it back into his face.  
This was all Ukyo's fault!

Ryoko was enjoying herself immensely, but it was time to end this.  She 
was getting hungry, and she could do with a bath in the nearby creek as 
well.  There was a relatively still pool nearby that would do just fine 
for bathing.  With a quick move, she ducked under one of her sparring 
partner's kicks and took his supporting leg out from underneath him 
with a sweep.  Even as he crashed to the ground, she was on top of him, 
catching one of his arms into a bone-grinding joint lock.  She slid her 
free arm around his throat, grateful that she had inherited her 
ancestress' strength in full measure as she felt Ryoga struggling 
beneath her.  Even so, she would not be able to hold him for long.

"Yield, and we can eat," she whispered into his ear.  Feeling playful, 
she brushed her lips against it for good measure, not quite kissing him 
there.

Ryoga froze as his brain went away somewhere, feeling her nubile body 
pressed up against him, her breath gusting lightly against his ear.  He 
vaguely remembered yielding to her, perhaps babbling inanely a bit, but 
not much else until she bounced a heavy stone off his forehead sometime 
later.  It was enough to bring him back to sufficient awareness to find 
a full bowl in his lap.

"Eat it before it gets cold, Hibiki-kun," she said with her usual tone 
of voice when speaking to him, perhaps slightly less mocking than 
usual.  "I'm going to go take a bath.  You peep on me, Lost Boy, and 
I'll kill you.  And don't leave the camp either.  If you make me go 
looking for you in the darkness, I'll do something you'll regret."  
With that said, she headed off slightly upstream until she was out of 
sight.

Ryoga, unsure what else to do until she got back, began eating.  He 
smiled at the taste.  It was chicken curry, one of his favorite dishes.

                   ******************************

"Director Kasuga?"

Looking up from the paperwork on his desk, the elderly man gazed at his 
aide peeking into his office.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I have another batch of drawings.  There've been a few more changes."

"Set them on my desk, and I'll look at them shortly."

"Yes, Sir."  The aide hurried into the Director's sanctum, a quiet 
office that was decorated with selected bits of memorabilia from some 
of the Institute's most famous cases.  All were relatively harmless, 
the dangerous relics being retained for study were all kept locked in 
the specially spell-warded vaults in the basements, along with those 
prisoners that normal cells could not contain.  He set down a sheaf of 
papers, each of them covered with more manga-style drawings, and then 
hurried out.  The door closed quietly behind him.

Director Kasuga set down his pen and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  If 
his wife were still alive, she would have told him he was working too 
hard.  But what was he to do?  He felt too young to retire, and there 
was still so much for him to accomplish before he stepped down.

Picking up the first of the papers from the stack, he carefully put on 
his glasses and studied the image.  Several figures stood, half-turned 
away from the viewer.  The same two that he had seen in previous images 
were in the center, a young man and a young woman, but the art style 
was more realistic this time.  The girl looked naggingly familiar, but 
he could not place her face.

At that moment, he happened to glance down at the latest report from 
Kyosuke, noting a group photo of his grandson taken with some of his 
classmates during some sort of field trip.  Standing next to him was a 
boy with a pigtail dressed in Chinese-style clothes.  Startled, he 
glanced back and forth between the manga drawing and the picture, his 
eyes widening in surprise.

Ranma Saotome.

"Knowledge of the future can be a dangerous thing," said a soft voice 
from behind him.  "Especially when it is vague."

"Who?" he yelped as he whirled around to see a totally bald, wizened-
looking gnome of a figure standing there in his office.  It was an 
entity that was spoken of in whispers at the highest levels of the 
Institute, and he was called many things: a harbinger of change, a 
storm crow, and an enigma weaving riddles.

A long time ago, the tiny figure had possessed another name, but that 
identity had been purged from all records years ago, when he stepped 
down from command of the Mobius Institute.  Now, he was simply the 
wandering monk known as Cherry.

"It has been a while, Kasuga-san," said the ancient, gnome-like man, 
nodding his bald head slightly.  "You have done well for yourself."

"You startled me."  He noticed Cherry softly step forward to gaze upon 
the images scattered across his desk.

"You chase phantoms with these pictures," said Cherry in mild reproach, 
without any preamble.  "What you seek to know, no mortal can tell you."  
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but as dry as a desert.

"I have a duty-"

He was cut off when Cherry raised a hand sharply.  "I know all there is 
to know about duty.  Would you hear my message?"

Director Kasuga had faced many frightening things in his life, yet that 
simple question chilled him.  He slowly nodded his head.

"Stop trying to second-guess the future.  Despite what you think you 
may have achieved at this place in trying to foresee it, all you have 
to work with now are partial truths and guesswork.  Pick the wrong 
choice at the wrong time, and you will only bring down a cataclysm of 
epic proportions."

"Then tell me something that I can use, and I will!" snapped Director 
Kasuga.  He paused as Cherry simply gazed at him, his ugly face calm.  
He bowed in self-reproach.  "I'm sorry.  That was rude of me."

"I will tell you this much," said Cherry calmly.  "If you persist in 
your attempts to scry the future, you will see what will seem to be the 
safest path to follow.  But if you take it, then this world will end in 
blood and terror, and it will only be the first of many."

"How can I believe you?  Why should I give up one of the best weapons 
in the Institute's arsenal?"

"Because I ask you to trust me," said Cherry coolly, before he bowed 
respectfully, looking uncomfortable at his own words.  "I am only the 
messenger, but it is important that you heed the message I bring.  The 
spirit world is disturbed, Kasuga-san, and both the kami and shinma are 
concerned.  They whisper to me from the quiet places during my travels, 
that this world soon comes to a number of cruxes within the tapestry of 
events.  If the correct path is not somehow woven among them, then all 
is lost.  And the horrors of this world's final days will be but the 
merest prelude to what comes next."  He studied the other man for a 
moment and then stood back.

"Anything else?"  Director Kasuga felt a pain in his gut.  His ulcer 
was acting up.  That was a bad sign, that he wasn't going to like what 
he was about to hear.  He pointed at the manga-style drawing of Ranma 
and the familiar-looking girl.  "Next you'll be telling me that this 
boy is our last hope."

Cherry smiled thinly for a moment, and then he cryptically replied, 
"No, there is another.  And I ask you to leave them be to find their 
own way.  You could try to help them, guide them in what you saw as the 
correct path, but you would only end up destroying everything that they 
must fight for, and suffer for, to have a chance at saving.  I ask you 
not to hinder or interfere with them, no matter what may happen.  There 
is so much yet to be done.  This is still only the beginning of their 
story."

Director Kasuga stared at the tiny figure before him for a time.  He 
then turned to gaze solemnly at the papers on his desk, his face a 
neutral mask.  After several moments, he began gathering them up into 
his hands.  From out of a drawer, he pulled out the earlier batches of 
drawings and added them to the stack as well.  With a resigned sigh, he 
dropped the entire lot into his wastebasket.  As he did so, he could 
have sworn that he heard something from the figure behind him, perhaps 
a released breath of relief, but he also might have just imagined it.  
A touch of his foot against the side of the trash bin caused a brief 
flash of heat and light from within, reducing the papers to ash.  When 
he turned around, he was alone once again.

"An enigma weaving riddles," he muttered.  "Damn you, Cherry."

Sitting down at his desk, he began formulating exactly how he was going 
to explain this to the Emperor, as well as drafting orders that should 
satisfy Cherry's desires that they walk forward into the future with 
blindfolds on.  But he had not grown as old as he was without learning 
to listen to his instincts, and they had told him to heed the ancient 
monk's words.  But they left a soul-deep chill within him.

                   ******************************

Colonel Gendo Rokubungi, the newly-installed headmaster of Furinkan 
Military Academy, emerged from his chauffeur-driven car and studied his 
surroundings with his usual cool detachment.  His driver, still holding 
onto the rear door of the vehicle with his left hand, managed to snap 
off a crisp salute with his right.  He returned the salute a bit 
absently.  His thoughts were attending more to the unexpected orders he 
had received yesterday, to report to the Imperial Academy this morning.  
No explanations had been given as to why he was to be here, only that 
he was to meet with Professor Kozo Fuyutsuki on a matter of importance.

The light of the morning sun glinted off the new rank insignia affixed 
to his uniform collar, the result of a brevet bump upwards in rank to 
go with his new position, pending a later review of his performance 
with Furinkan's cadets.  It had been a pleasant surprise to receive.  
Personally, he loved hearing the sound of his new rank, and he fully 
intended to make it into a permanent one.  His star was ascendant, and 
he was certain that this was only the beginning of future greatness for 
him.

"Shall I wait for you, Sir?" inquired his driver, a young-looking 
soldier.

"No, Sergeant," Gendo replied evenly.  "This might take a while.  I'll 
call for you when I'm finished here."  He stepped away from the car, 
and the driver saluted once again.  He returned the salute quickly, 
before turning to stride towards through the gates.

                   ******************************

Fuyutsuki watched the tall figure entering the grounds of the Imperial 
Academy with mild interest.  A dossier that was provided by the Defense 
Directorate rested on the desk behind him, concerning Colonel 
Rokubungi.  It made for dry perusal, but, reading between the lines, it 
also painted the picture of a man who was devoted to the Empire.  The 
Security Directorate had recently added their approvals for an upgrade 
in the Colonel's security clearance, a requirement before any knowledge 
about Project Phoenix could be released to him.

As he waited for the man's arrival, Fuyutsuki permitted himself a few 
private moments of gloating over the Saotome boy's victory yesterday.  
It was a nice turnaround of events from a week ago, but it also brought 
back to the forefront a mystery, how someone with little previous 
combat training suddenly changed overnight into a martial artist of 
such incredible skill.  And it was not just him, but Nabiki Tendo as 
well.  She too had emerged as a fighter with a level of competence of 
truly inordinate magnitude, far beyond her previous capabilities.

Fuyutsuki picked up Ranma's proposal, submitted to the Science Ministry 
several months ago.  It was mainly an overview, containing the myriad 
equations and obscure theories supporting its validity, yet revealing 
surprisingly little concerning the specifics involved in the endeavor.  
He had only recently taken the opportunity to read through it in 
detail, shortly after the pigtailed boy's change in ability.  It showed 
that Ranma was involved in investigating something of simply staggering 
possibilities, the exploration of worlds without end, a feat comparable 
to mankind's first time playing with fire.

Based on all the available evidence, it was reasonable to assume that 
the boy's experiment had somehow granted him his new combat skills.  
Fighting abilities of his current level would have taken a decade or 
more to acquire, time that Ranma had never invested, at least not in 
this reality.  And having witnessed the awe-inspiring power of the 
Nekoken in action, a lost technique of martial arts lore he had come 
across a description of during his recent research, his few remaining 
doubts vanished.  There were also the emerging changes in the boy's 
personality to consider.  He was becoming much more outgoing, and more 
spirited.  However, Fuyutsuki had to admit that this new Ranma Saotome 
seemed oddly 'right' to exist, as if the universe had corrected a 
mistake.

As to the added mystery of Nabiki Tendo, that tied back to Ranma's lab 
and experiment as well.  One of the Academy's hidden cameras on that 
sub-level had recorded her quite skillful break-in into the boy's lab, 
where she then remained for some time.  When she finally emerged, the 
girl had looked somewhat shaken, but it was not too long afterwards 
that she too demonstrated incredible ability in the martial arts, as 
well as an alteration in her attitudes.  Her rather cold and often 
ruthless personality had softened a bit in the aftermath of her unusual 
experience, becoming almost playful at times.

However, the strangest part of the puzzle was Genma.  He had denounced 
Ranma's efforts as foolish and adamantly demanded that the experiment's 
subsidy be terminated immediately, calling it "a waste of the boy's 
true abilities."  Fuyutsuki had complied, clearing out the lab and 
returning the boy's equipment to the Science Ministry for disposal, but 
there was something about the whole thing that troubled him.  Even more 
puzzling, Genma had furtively gone into the dormitory where Ranma had 
been training, taken the boy's bookbag away for a few hours, and then 
he had returned it.  Fuyutsuki had chosen to keep his own counsel on 
the matter, adopting a wait-and-see strategy, and that was still true.  
Still, something was going on that he was not seeing.

Further musings on the subject were shelved when there came a sudden 
knock at the door.  He debated just letting the man in, then decided 
that someone of Gendo's reputation would respect a different tact.  He 
settled into the chair behind his desk and made himself comfortable.

"Enter," Fuyutsuki called out, busying himself with the man's dossier.

Gendo opened the door and walked in, taking a few moments to size up 
the room and its lone occupant with a casual glance, the light flashing 
off his glasses menacingly.  He found Fuyutsuki's office to be rather 
spartan in design, a few books on the shelves, three paintings on the 
walls, a computer terminal in the corner, and a single plant in the 
window.  The paintings appeared to all be Western works, but beyond 
that Gendo could not say.  He held little interest in art.

"Come in, Colonel Rokubungi."  Fuyutsuki gestured at a chair.  He stood 
up from behind his desk and gave a polite bow when Gendo came closer, 
one that the other man mechanically returned.  He then sat back down.  
"Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Professor Kozo Fuyutsuki, the 
administrator of this facility.  Thank you for coming to see me on such 
short notice.  I'm sure you have questions."

"I am curious as to why I am here," admitted Gendo.  He took the chair 
that had been offered him and sat stiffly, as if still at attention.  
He was not very comfortable in situations that he was not himself in 
control of.  "That would be an adequate place to begin, Fuyutsuki-
sensei."

The older man nodded.  "Very well, Colonel.  The matter requiring your 
presence here concerns a few of the cadets undergoing training at 
Furinkan."  He picked up a handful of dossiers from his desk and handed 
them to the other man.  "You have five cadets in particular that I wish 
to discuss, one of whom was transferred from this facility to yours in 
recent weeks."

Gendo grunted once as he looked over the dossiers in his hands.  He was 
unfamiliar with the majority of them, but he did remember seeing the 
name of Ryu Kumon recently come cross his desk.  He flipped through the 
pages quickly, familiarizing himself with the faces and names.

Fuyutsuki quietly waited for the other man to finish, steepling his 
fingers as he rested his elbows on the arms of his chair.

After several minutes of intensive study, Gendo closed the folders and 
said, "Let's cut right to the chase, Professor.  What exactly do these 
cadets have in common?  I noticed the word 'Newtype' mentioned in a 
number of places, but no explanation as to its meaning."

"A Newtype is the next stage in human evolution, Colonel," answered 
Fuyutsuki, his fingertips still steepled together.  "They are the 
future inheritors of the Earth, each one a superior breed of human.  
They are the result of decades of effort and experimentation, all aimed 
at purging the dross and imperfections out of mankind."

"Something like a lilith, you mean?"

"Some of the biotechnology involved is similar to that which created 
the first liliths and samaels," admitted Fuyutsuki.  "In fact, Genom's 
expertise in that area was an enormous aid to the effort.  But that is 
where the similarity ends.  You see, each of the Newtypes was once a 
normal, unmodified human child.  Are you familiar with Ryugenzawa, 
Colonel?"

Gendo was somewhat surprised by the sudden change in topic, but he did 
not show it.

"It's an Imperial preserve," he replied carefully.  He had been there 
once, as part of a hunting party at the Emperor's invitation.  He had 
even taken a trophy, albeit one of rather dubious quality.  Still, 
taking down a rat with his hunting rifle that was the size of a horse 
had been an admittedly surreal experience.  It had been a pretty tough 
kill too, taking two 10mm rounds to its chest and head before finally 
expiring.

Fuyutsuki nodded.  "On the surface, that much is true.  It's a 
fascinating collection of lifeforms, all modified from their original 
templates by some force within Ryugenzawa that we are still studying.  
However, it is also where we found the Eucharist, the keystone which 
made Project Phoenix into a reality."

"The Eucharist?" said Gendo in puzzlement.  Almost despite himself, he 
was becoming interested in the professor's lecture.

"An admittedly colorful designation given it by one of my colleagues," 
replied Fuyutsuki with a slightly embarrassed smile.  "The Eucharist's 
progenitor was discovered in Ryugenzawa, in a lake at the center of the 
region.  It was a single-celled lifeform, a parasite, formed of an odd 
merging of the aspects of both a virus and a fungus, perhaps resulting 
from exposure to the strange energies of that place."

He leaned back in his chair as he continued to speak, "Humans and 
normal animals were not affected, as it only seemed to target any 
creatures that had been altered by Ryugenzawa's power.  We theorized 
that it was simply one of nature's ways of controlling the population 
of that region.  Regardless of its origins, samples were taken from 
some of the infected animals, to be examined in detail at the Science 
Ministry.  Originally, it was hoped that it might prove to be useful as 
part of some sort of bioweapon."

Gendo nodded.  The Imperial war machine was always looking for new and 
better ways to eliminate its enemies, even during the times of relative 
peace.  The peace never seemed to last.

Fuyutsuki paused for a moment or two before continuing, "Looking back, 
it was a primitive piece of genetic tinkering, there in one of Genom's 
biolabs, but the proto-Eucharist responded favorably to the imposed 
changes, altering into a form that could thrive within a human host.  
Cell cultures were infected with this newly-modified strain, but what 
happened next was serendipitous.  Some sort of mutation apparently 
occurred in one of the culture batches.  Instead of creating a deadly 
parasite, the experiment gave birth to a symbiotic lifeform.  Later 
tests on the cultured cells yielded some surprising results.  This new 
variant strain had modified them, somehow 'tuning up' the biochemical 
machinery of the cells, as well as resequencing entire segments of 
chromosomes.  That was when it was renamed the Eucharist."

"An interesting choice of names," noted the other man neutrally.

Fuyutsuki took a drink of water from the glass on his desk before he 
continued.  "Project Phoenix was formed in those early days, years ago.  
Its goal was to exploit the potentials for the eugenic improvement of 
Imperial citizenry using this wonder virus.  We have since learned much 
more about it, enjoyed relatively few setbacks, and we have continued 
to refine it further as our understanding has improved.  For one thing, 
we now know that it is an inheritable trait, by means of the Eucharist 
adding an extra pair of chromosomes into the host's DNA.  I could go on 
at much greater length, but the Project's complete history is not vital 
to this briefing."

"I see," said Gendo, flipping open one of the dossiers and studying the 
information inside with new insight.  Seeing the young faces in the 
small photos, a brief fantasy wandered through his mind, of the child 
that he hoped to someday have with Yui, once he regained his proper 
place in her good graces and finally married her.  It would be a son, 
of course, one who would grow to be a strong and confident warrior like 
his father was.  A thin smile crossed his lips at the thought.  Then he 
paused for a moment as he studied one of the documents, a question 
occurring to him.  "Why have you only been using children, Professor?"

Fuyutsuki seemed to choose his words carefully.  "It was not by choice.  
Unfortunately, we discovered quite early on that the Eucharist symbiote 
tended to be rejected by host bodies over a certain physical age, and, 
in some extreme cases, it would even cause extensive genetic damage as 
it warred with the would-be host's immune system.  But, in children 
below the critical age, we achieved an over eighty percent success rate 
of host-symbiote bonding with that first group of test subjects.  Those 
children became the Mark-I's.  The Mark-II's are the next step, citizen 
children injected with the symbiote, an even more refined version."

"What happened to the failures?"

Fuyutsuki looked somewhat distressed.  "They died of total systemic 
shock, Colonel.  I've seen for myself the recordings of how those 
children perished, and so has every other scientist who now works on 
the Project.  Such a terrible tragedy must never be repeated, 
especially now that we are using citizen children.  Fortunately, we now 
have fairly accurate testing available that enables us to tell if a 
given host will accept the symbiote or not."

"What's the up side to all the risk?" Gendo queried.  "It must be quite 
impressive to justify the dangers."

"Quite," replied Fuyutsuki, not at all surprised at the question, one 
he expected of a military man who looked at things in terms of pluses 
and minuses.  Still, Gendo was being remarkably blasé about all of 
this, disturbingly so.  He slowly took another drink of water, unused 
to lecturing anymore, and then continued.

"Once the host's body begins to metabolize the symbiote, a chromosomal 
resequencing begins occurring within every cell, a cascade of genetic 
change that eventually runs throughout the entire body.  This is the 
first phase of the bonding process, and the host will suffer from some 
severe flu-like symptoms for a number of days.  When this initial stage 
is finally complete, the host's recoded DNA is then locked in as the 
basal pattern, and the symbiote begins very aggressively hunting down 
and consuming anything that does not match, such as cancerous cells or 
infectious agents.  A downside to this is that organic transplants are 
no longer possible, but the symbiote more than compensates for this in 
other ways.

The subject has now become what we refer to as a Newtype Human, a being 
that is faster, stronger, and more intelligent than an ordinary man or 
woman.  The symbiote's presence also improves the host body's 
regenerative abilities by several orders of magnitude, albeit at an 
enormous increase in appetite when its called upon.  For example, I've 
seen simple cuts and bruises heal within hours, and even more severe 
injuries to the body disappear in mere days.  Even more remarkable, 
once the host's body achieves its physical maturity, aging ceases.  The 
symbiote is somehow able to prevent the gradual deterioration of the 
body's regenerative abilities that we refer to as aging."

Gendo raised an eyebrow.  "Immortality?"

"Not exactly, since we are still uncertain how long the effect lasts," 
admitted Fuyutsuki.  "But we are monitoring several of the remaining 
Mark-I's, and all of them continue to remain as vital and youthful as 
they were twenty years ago.  So, barring violence or misfortune, and as 
long as the symbiote remains healthy, I suppose there's no reason why 
any Newtype could not expect to live for centuries, or even longer."

Gendo was speechless.

Fuyutsuki noted how quiet the other man was and continued.  "Newtype 
reflexive speed is improved by means of a higher percentage of fast-
twitch muscle fibers and far more efficient neuro-transmitter hormones.  
Physical might is heightened due to an increase in muscle mass density, 
as well as a greater tensile strength in the tendons.  Even endurance 
is also enhanced, as the symbiote is able to break down any fatigue 
poisons at an astonishing rate.  And with the Mark-II version of the 
symbiote, we have also managed to improve intelligence and memory.  
Then, there is the boost...."

"The boost?"

Fuyutsuki shrugged.  "It was something we first noticed in the Mark-I 
subjects, an array of special glands appearing throughout the host's 
body that first become active during adolescence.  They are triggered 
by a region of nerve cells buried deep within one of the most primitive 
sections of the brain, a remnant of an elder epoch, a throwback to an 
earlier form of man.  When called upon, they flood the body's systems 
with a potent biochemical stew of hormones and numerous other serums, 
one that supercharges physical performance to almost preternatural 
levels."

"Even the brain is affected," he said as he tapped his forehead with a 
finger.  "While boosted, a Newtype takes this savage throwback self, 
the one that lies deep within every human, drags it forth into the 
light of day, and embraces it.  The mind washes clear of all fears and 
doubts that could cause any hesitation in battle, unleashing its full 
potential for combat.  I'm told that it's almost like a religious 
experience."

"However, because of the incredible drain that it causes on the body's 
resources, and a fatal one if its sustained for too long, we finally 
had telepaths from the Mobius Institute program subliminal safeguards 
into every Newtype, limiting the duration.  That is the boost, Colonel, 
and so far I've only seen one of my cadets display it.  However, the 
potential lies within all of them."

Gendo was impressed, but he hid it quite well.  To cover himself, he 
picked up one dossier at random, finding himself looking at a small 
picture of Akane Tendo clipped onto the cover.  Her name caught his 
attention, and he briefly wondered how closely she was related to a 
certain highly-placed officer in the Security Directorate.  He studied 
some of her test scores, and he was pleased by what he saw.  She would 
make an amazing soldier, once under his guidance.

"How superior are these children, Professor, when compared to normal 
humans?"

Fuyutsuki thought for a moment before replying, "We estimate an average 
that is somewhere in the realm of thirty percent over their unmodified 
potentials, but that number can vary greatly from subject to subject.  
We still lack hard data, due to the small size of the initial testing 
group, but the current one is expanding our knowledge base."

"What about psychological effects of the symbiote on a subject?  Are 
there any?  Other than the boost's, that is."  Gendo pushed his glasses 
slightly up the bridge of his nose.

Fuyutsuki looked briefly amused at the question.  "There are a number 
of common features that we have noticed among the Newtypes.  For 
starters, they are somehow able to subconsciously 'recognize' each 
other, at least to a degree.  We're still not exactly sure what the 
mechanism involved is, but we believe it's a pheromonal cue of some 
sort.  Those of opposing genders experience a physical attraction of 
varying intensity, and those of the same tend to react with different 
levels of aggression.

We believe that the symbiote may be instinctively influencing the host 
to seek out suitable partners for reproduction.  Perhaps in order to 
pass along a copy of itself to any offspring.  As those of the same 
gender are effectively useless for any sort of procreative purposes, 
their symbiotes react to each other with varying degrees of negativity.  
Fortunately, those subjects with a high degree of genetic similarity, 
such as siblings, or parent and offspring, we have managed to engineer 
the symbiote to perceive as neutral parties.  The blocking is still not 
absolute, but the last thing we wanted to produce was a race of beings 
inherently prone to incestuous pairings."

Fuyutsuki paused, then continued by saying, "We have also seen that 
Newtypes tend to manifest an odd sort of 'pack mentality' with each 
other, somewhat like wolves or lions possess.  The individual members 
establish a pecking order amongst themselves, with an Alpha being 
ultimately at the top.  My own testing group is still in the process of 
sorting out its own social order, since the group's alpha male keeps 
having to contend with the front-runner alpha female for dominion."

"A woman in charge?" asked Gendo, somewhat surprised.

Fuyutsuki smiled, and he replied, "It happens.  Offhand, I can think of 
one testing group that currently has a female Alpha."

"I see," said Gendo.  He gathered his thoughts for a moment.  "Going 
back to the topic of reproduction, could a normal human and a Newtype 
produce a child?"

"Well, yes and no.  While it is possible for a normal male and a 
Newtype female to produce offspring without many complications, the 
reverse is not true and bears some strong risks.  In the latter case, 
the fertilized egg is almost always rejected by the mother's 
reproductive organs, due to the embryonic presence of the symbiote.  
However, we are aware of two instances where a normal female carried a 
child fathered by a Newtype to term.  And perhaps there have also been 
others that we are unaware of.  But the danger of such a pairing is 
that the growing fetus will invariably infect the mother with the 
symbiote, with potentially fatal results."

"That brings up another point," noted Gendo.  "Is it contagious?"

"Only under limited circumstances.  The only way to pass it along is by 
means of a blood transfusion or a tissue transplant.  Mere physical 
contact, even sexual activity, does not.  And as to nonhuman 
transmission vectors, even a mosquito bite would only result in a dead 
mosquito before it could even withdraw its proboscis, as the symbiote 
ravaged it from within, as a perceived foreign invader to the host."

Gendo looked puzzled.  "But if it's coded to a specific host, then 
shouldn't it act to destroy another human its introduced into?"

"In some cases, perhaps in as many as one in ten, it would," Fuyutsuki 
replied after a few moments.  "But it seems to recognize something in a 
normal human that reverts it back into its colonization mode.  However, 
if the host is older than about five or six, then the chances of death 
or genetic damage increase dramatically."

Gendo briefly adjusted his glasses.  "The more I hear about what their 
capabilities are, the more I'm looking forward to this, Professor.  
Where do I fit in?"

"It's quite simple, Colonel," answered Fuyutsuki.  "The reason why we 
have these testing groups scattered among various learning institutions 
is to study how environment affects their development.  The Newtypes 
all come from a wide range of familial backgrounds and varied childhood 
situations.  For example, the current Alpha of my testing group was 
taken away from his mother and raised exclusively by his father, to see 
the effect of pure male socialization on his personality, undiluted by 
the presence of any maternal figure.  Now that they near adulthood, we 
must prepare these children to become part of an Empire that will soon 
be transformed.  And so your job is to challenge these cadets in your 
care, to train them to their limits, and to make them into the best and 
the brightest that the Empire has to offer.  That is your task."

Gendo smiled.  "Then consider it done, Professor."

"Excellent, Colonel," said Fuyutsuki, nodding.  "Let us turn to your 
cadets.  The first one is...."

                   ******************************

Sakura did not consider herself to be very typical for a girl, driven 
as she was to become the very best fighter of her generation, but she 
had been enjoying shopping for clothes with Akane.  At that particular 
moment, they were in one of the trendier shops, looking at fashions 
imported from all over the world.  She was frowning at the price tag on 
a black leather jacket that had caught her eye when the Tendo girl came 
out of the nearby dressing room.

"Well?" Akane asked, turning around slowly in front of the three full-
length mirrors and studying herself.  She looked a bit self-conscious.  
"What do you think?"

Sakura blinked.  "Uh, it's rather daring," she finally ventured.

"Do you think it's too much?"  Akane turned back to face the mirror and 
studied the effect of the outfit on her body critically.  The dark-blue 
minidress hugged her figure like a second skin, proudly displaying 
every nuance of her frame.  It was backless, and a diamond of cloth had 
also been removed from the front, revealing a patch of skin that ran 
from just between her breasts to down around her lower waist region.  
"I think it looks good on me."

Sakura absently noticed that a number of males currently gawking at her 
friend would have been among the first to agree.  One was practically 
drooling.

"You might want to tone it down a little."  She gave Akane a grin.  "It 
also looks a little cold to wear for this time of year."

"I just want to make a good impression on Ra- uh, I mean, this boy that 
I like," said the youngest Tendo with a suddenly disconcerted look.  "I 
thought a change in tactics would help, starting with a sexier 
wardrobe."

Sakura raised one eyebrow.  "Well, if he has a pulse, I don't think he 
could fail to notice you in that outfit.  But I think it comes across 
as a little too obvious."

"I suppose you're right."  Akane sighed.  This was proving to be more 
of a challenge than she thought.  Acting feminine had never been much 
of a priority for her, since boys her age had proven to be both 
immature and weak.  That is, until Ranma had walked into her life, the 
first boy who had proven himself to be tougher than she was.  "I'm just 
not very good at this sort of thing."

Sakura nodded, suddenly feeling a little downcast herself.  The two of 
them made quite a pair, two tomboyish girls out shopping for clothes to 
impress boys who didn't even notice them.  And she was in exactly the 
same boat as Akane was, part of the reason why she was here.  Her own 
beloved Ryu-senpai did not even seem to see her as a potential romantic 
interest, just a sparring partner with breasts.  All he talked about 
lately was the Arena, and her.  Sakura had grown to loathe the name of 
her unwitting nemesis for Ryu's heart: Shampoo.

The Chinese amazon was a growing legend in the annals of the Imperial 
Arena, reigning undefeated in well over a hundred Arena-sanctioned 
matches since her debut months ago.  She had started out like many 
others, in the lowliest 'dog pits' of the Arena circuit, but this 
young, female gaijin had managed to battle her way upwards through the 
warrior rankings to attain her present position, and she had captured 
the hearts of young men across the Empire in the process.  She was a 
barbarian, an untamed savage, and they loved her for it.

The Arena had even gone so far as to capitalize on Shampoo's growing 
fame by instituting a special event in her honor, held once weekly, the 
so-called "Amazon Challenge."  Any male citizen of the Empire who was 
between the ages of fifteen and twenty could step into the Arena with 
the purple-haired warrioress and fight to win her hand in marriage, not 
to mention a tax-free cash prize of ten million yen.  And no matter how 
many challengers she defeated, there always seemed to be another one 
the next week.

The rules were relatively simple.  A challenger paid an entry fee of 
one million yen, or signed a contract for a six-month term of service 
in the Arena if they did not have the money (to begin when they were 
healed enough to fight).  After that, all one had to do was walk into 
the Arena with Shampoo and manage to defeat her in solo hand-to-hand 
combat.  Since its inception, the Amazon Challenge had become one of 
the highest-rated, televised events in Arena history, with an average 
audience measured in the hundreds of millions from around the globe.

Now her Ryu-senpai had put his name down on a contract, wagering half a 
year of his life that he was good enough to put Shampoo down in a 
fight.  His doing so had been the talk of the Combat Club for weeks.  
He claimed to be doing it to honor his father's teachings, proving the 
strength of the Kumon School of Martial Arts to all the world.  But 
Sakura had her doubts.  Shampoo may have been gaijin, but she was also 
very beautiful, and a tempting prize for a teenage boy.

The fight was scheduled for tonight.

Her musings were interrupted when Akane emerged from the dressing room 
in a different outfit.  The black leather miniskirt and white silk 
blouse was a much better choice than the previous ensemble had been, 
and she nodded her approval.  At least her friend was more fortunate 
than she was, not having to contend with someone like Shampoo for the 
attentions of the boy she liked.

                   ******************************

Ranma strolled up to the gates of Kuno Manor and rang the bell.  He 
waited for a response, absently rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Greetings, Saotome-san," came an anonymous voice from the speaker.  
"You are expected within."

There was a soft buzzing sound from the gate, and Ranma opened it up, 
letting it swing inwards on well-oiled hinges.  He continued on his 
way, letting the heavy iron portal close behind him with a resounding 
clang.

Kodachi waited for Ranma's approach to the manor house in her room, 
having been informed of his presence on the grounds within moments of 
his entry.  She gazed downwards, feeling butterflies rampaging in her 
belly.  She was dressed in a plain kimono of green silk, and a golden 
obi.  Her hair was worn in a ponytail, tied with a purple ribbon.  She 
fussed with her obi while she waited, trying hard to act the part of a 
lady of her station.

Ranma came around a curve in the pathway leading to the house, and he 
spied the noblewoman in one of the upper windows.  He smiled at the 
sight of her, feeling an odd quivering within him.  He put it down to 
nerves.

A roaring sound came down the driveway as the walking path he was on 
intersected it on the way to the house.  Ranma paused as a thick-set 
figure on an older model motorcycle came racing from the garage.  With 
a sudden start, he recognized Lord Kuno as the driver, dressed in a 
faded leather jacket over casual clothes.  Mirrored sunglasses glinted 
with reflected morning sunlight.  The motorcycle came to a halt in 
front of him.

"Saotome-kun," Daisho said in greeting, smiling at him.  "Nice to see 
you again, Boy.  Here to see my little Dachi-chan, I trust?"

"Good morning, Kuno-sama," Ranma replied, bowing respectfully.  It was 
a mild struggle to do so.  He straightened up and felt nervous again.  
"Uh, yes, I am.  Sir."

"Excellent, Saotome-kun.  I know she'll try to hide it, but my little 
girl's been looking forward to seeing you."

"Yes, Sir."

"You and I must talk sometime," said the man, somehow making it sound 
like a command.  He revved up the engine of his motorcycle, smiling 
almost reverently at the throaty roar it gave off, before letting it 
drop back into idle after a few moments.  "Nothing like the sound of a 
well-tuned engine, Boy.  Well, I'm off.  Remember, we have some things 
to talk about, you and I."  And with that, he was gone, racing down the 
driveway at breakneck speed.

Ranma watched Lord Kuno speeding off with a slightly bemused expression 
on his face.  He may not have been 'Principal Kuno' in this timeline, 
but he was still kind of strange.  The pigtailed boy just chalked it up 
to the many eccentricities inherent among the wealthy.

Forcing herself to stop nervously fussing with her clothes, Kodachi 
smiled down at Ranma as he paused at the base of the steps leading up 
to the front door.  She saw him look upwards, meeting her gaze with a 
smile of his own.  Her heart suddenly fluttered in her chest at the 
sight of his blue eyes.

The pigtailed boy waved at Kodachi, then he leaped upwards, quickly 
landing gracefully on the edge of the balcony below her room.  In 
another few moments, he was outside her window.  With a grin, Ranma 
knocked on the glass.

She was somewhat taken aback at his actions, but she could not deny the 
thrill she felt at watching him in motion.  She swallowed her heart 
back down her throat, feeling another eruption of butterflies in her 
belly.  She stood there, a shy smile on her face.

"Hey, Kodachi, are you gonna let me in or not?" he called through the 
glass separating them, his voice teasing.

"Well, I don't know," she replied coquettishly, still smiling shyly.  
"Coming to my room like this in broad daylight is very bold of you, 
Saotome-kun.  The servants might talk."

Now it was Ranma's turn to be taken aback.  He waved his arms in the 
air in negation, almost knocking himself right off the ledge outside 
her room.

"H-hey, I wasn't gonna do nothing weird," he said plaintively.  Taking 
a moment to calm himself, he brought his speech patterns back under 
control.  It tended to deteriorate into how his analogs spoke when he 
got flustered.  He continued more calmly, "I was just eager to get to 
you."

Kodachi blushed at his statement for several moments, then she felt an 
urge take her.  With an impish grin, she unlocked the window and threw 
it open, almost knocking him off the ledge once again.  She watched him 
quickly scramble inside, and then she remembered that she was still 
somewhat cross with him over the whole Utena matter.

"Good morning, Saotome-kun," she said coolly, bowing to him in a very 
ladylike fashion.  "You are looking well."

"Uh, good morning, Kodachi," Ranma replied, bowing.  He was surprised 
at her quick change in attitude, and he impulsively asked, "Are you 
still upset about me talking to Utena?"

She blinked and replied coolly, "Why should I be upset about such a 
thing, Saotome-kun?  After all, there's nothing going on between you 
and that Tenjou girl, right?"

"Of course not," he denied flatly.  "Utena's just a friend."  Even as 
he said that, a memory of the pink-haired girl kissing him on the train 
station came to mind.  He banished it back to the deep recesses of his 
brain, suddenly feeling a little nervous.  Was it possible that Kodachi 
knew that Utena had spent the night at his house?

The young noblewoman's gaze narrowed at him, ever so slightly.

Seeing that look in her eyes, his already hypersensitive brain went 
into guilt overload and froze up.

"There was a rumor going around the Academy while you were training," 
she said calmly.  "Some cadets claimed to have seen that Tenjou girl 
spend the night at your house after your first match with her.  Did 
anything like that happen, Saotome-kun?"

"Yeah, did it, Ranma-kun?" came an unexpected voice from the window.

Ranma snapped his head around to see Nabiki perched there, and his eyes 
went wide in surprise at seeing her.  He could not seem to find the 
will to move as she almost casually hopped down into Kodachi's room, 
strolled over to him, and slowly wrapped the fingers of her hands into 
the front of his shirt.

Kodachi decided to side with Nabiki, for just this time, and she stood 
quietly to one side, feeling a deep heaviness build in her chest as the 
Tendo girl interrogated him.  The mere thought of her fiancé and that 
pink-haired trollop together was almost more than she could bear, but 
she forced herself to hear his side of it before she condemned him.  If 
only he was more like gentle Miki, came the thought from somewhere deep 
within, startling her for a moment.

"Perhaps you have something to confess?" the Tendo girl asked mildly.  
Her grip tightened, and she half-lifted him off the floor.  She let go 
of him with one hand, slowly balling it into a fist.  Her other arm did 
not show even a single quiver of strain, and her voice lowered into 
more dangerous tones.  "I think you do."

Ranma gulped, glancing at Kodachi for possible assistance.  Her rather 
stern-looking gaze was a study in feminine anger, and he swallowed 
again at the sight.  He was still a little bit weakened from his battle 
with Utena, or he might have tried to make a break for it past them.

"Well?" said Nabiki, drawing him nose to nose with her.  "Did she spend 
the night at your house, or not?"

"Yesbutnothinghappened!" Ranma blurted out, wincing his eyes shut as he 
waited for the first blow to strike.  When he didn't feel a punch, he 
peeked one eye open and began babbling before the Tendo girl could 
change her mind about hitting him.  "It's the truth!  She slept in my 
bedroom, and I slept elsewhere in the house!  Nothing happened!"

Nabiki slowly set Ranma down and loosened her grip.  She was trained to 
recognize when someone was attempting to lie to her, and he apparently 
was not, unless he could fool her.  A mirthless smile crossed her face.  
The pigtailed boy might be capable in a number of areas, but he would 
never be a good enough liar to deceive her.

"I believe you, Ranma-kun," she said.

Kodachi released the breath she had been holding, feeling a tremendous 
sense of relief flood through her.  She must have misunderstood what 
had been said between the Tenjou girl and Saotome-kun in his bedroom.  
Her fiancé was still innocent of the pleasures of the flesh, and that 
was good.  When the time was right, she and her beloved could end their 
innocence together, in each other's arms.  The thought sent a wave of 
contentment through her.

At that moment, Kuno knocked once on Kodachi's door and then opened it 
without even waiting for an answer.  "My dear sister, I-"  He froze, 
seeing an unexpected tableau before him.  The villain Saotome stood 
before him, scandalously unescorted in Kodachi's private bedchambers!  
Even more damning (if that were possible), the loathsome peasant was 
being embraced by the arms of Kuno's own intended bride!  His initial 
reasons for entry were suddenly forgotten in the rage that instantly 
began consuming him.

Uh oh, thought Ranma.  His mind processed the scene in a flash and gave 
a quick prediction of Kuno's likely response.  He began disentangling 
himself from Nabiki's grip in his shirt.

"Saotome, you fiend!" roared Kuno.  His ever-present bokken appearing 
in hand as if by magic, he charged the pigtailed boy, intent on mayhem.  
"Prepare for thy well-deserved doom!"

Briefly shrugging, Nabiki stepped clear to let Ranma fight his own 
battles.  As an afterthought, she gave the pigtailed boy a shove in 
Kuno's direction to spur him on.

Kodachi was too slow to get between the two boys, and she watched in 
horror as he stumbled forward, seeming to lose his balance.

"I have you now!" Kuno called out as he executed a downward slash with 
his weapon, narrowly missing Ranma's skull by the thickness of a coin.  
His nemesis had dodged at the last instant.  "Impossible!"

"I'm really-" said Ranma as he dodged aside from another one of Kuno's 
strikes.  "Getting tired-"  He dropped to the floor in a spread-legged 
move and rolled away from the next series of rapid-fire blows.  "Of 
jerks like you-"  His body took to the air in a spin and a leap, coming 
to land on the blade of Kuno's wooden weapon for a moment.  "Who keep 
attacking me!"  His hands grabbed the young nobleman's shoulders in a 
tight grip, before leaping over the other boy's head and executing a 
reverse takedown.

Kuno's body seemed to briefly defy physics as it executed a 270-degree 
flip in midair before slamming facedown into the flooring, leaving a 
Kuno-shaped crater where he landed.  The young nobleman remained there 
as the dust settled, apparently unconscious.

The whole fight, from start to finish, had taken less than ten seconds.

"Jerk," Ranma grumbled as he stood up and dusted himself off.

Both girls blinked in surprise.  Even Nabiki was somewhat astonished at 
how quickly Ranma had finished the fight, even if it was just against 
Kuno.

"Are you hurt, Saotome-kun?" asked Kodachi, quickly checking him over 
for injuries.  In her concern for his well-being, her hands seemed to 
rove on their own, and slightly further afield than decorum allowed.

"Uh, I'm fine, Kodachi."  Ranma absently moved her hands away from his 
person.

Fortunately missing that little exchange, Nabiki walked over and knelt 
down next to Kuno, noting that he was still twitching slightly.  She 
rolled him over, studied his condition briefly to make sure the damage 
was only superficial, and then she stood up and turned around.

Kuno chose that moment to return to a awareness.  His eyes were still 
blurry, but he saw a figure in Chinese-style clothes before him.  It 
could only be that cur, Saotome!

"I fight on!" shouted Kuno, grabbing hold of Nabiki from behind.  As he 
did so, one of his hands came around and grasped her bosom.  An odd 
expression came across his face as he became more aware, and he made 
the mistake of not immediately letting go.

Nabiki's eyes widened, a look of shock quickly being replaced by one of 
fury.

Ranma and Kodachi both closed their eyes as a brief scene of carnage 
took place.  There were the distinctive sounds of flesh being battered 
and joints wrenching for several seconds.  It ended when it sounded 
like Kuno was returned to his place on the floor, rather forcefully.

When it was finally quiet again, Ranma opened his eyes.  Nabiki was 
standing there, looking thoughtful.  Her gaze came over to meet his.

"Brother dear!" Kodachi immediately exclaimed, rushing to his side.  
She cradled him in her arms as she quickly checked his battered body 
for injuries.  It quickly became obvious that the Tendo girl must have 
been pulling her blows even as she pummeled him unconscious.  She took 
a moment to summon some of the household servants to see to her fallen 
brother's care before she returned once again to Ranma's side.

The two girls exchanged a brief glare that sizzled in the air between 
them.  Ranma glanced at each of his companions and swallowed softly.

Kodachi took a gentle hold of his arm and enjoyed the soft surge of 
sweet sensations coursing through her body from being so near him.

Nabiki muscled the noblewoman away from Ranma.  "That's enough of that, 
Kuno-hime.  Before you get too carried away, I have some news for you."  
She gestured at herself with her thumb.  "I'm Ranma's fiancée.  That 
means he's off-limits to you from now on."

"What?" said Ranma flatly, echoed by Kodachi's more shrill question a 
half-second later.

Nabiki nodded and said with a touch of smugness, "His daddy and my 
daddy made a secret pact to join our two families.  I've seen the 
contract."

"But that's not possible," said Kodachi.  "Saotome-kun's father and my 
father have agreed to a marriage between our families."

"What?" said Ranma and Nabiki together, the pigtailed boy now looking 
somewhat pale.  He sat down in a nearby chair and put his face in his 
hands while the two girls loudly discussed the matter.  In the back of 
his mind, he thought he heard laughter.  Why did these things keep 
happening to him?

                   ******************************

Genma tipped back the cup of sake and let the fiery liquid slip down 
his throat.  It was a good day, in his opinion.

"The check for Kodachi's dowry, Saotome-kun," said Lord Kuno with a 
smile, sliding a slip of paper across the table, stopping in front of 
his drinking companion.  He picked up his own cup of sake and let the 
girl waiting on them refill it.  She did the same for Genma, and then 
Lord Kuno held up his cup.  "Here's to the future happiness of our 
children together, and the many offspring they will have with each 
other."

"I'll drink to that."  Genma smiled.  He swallowed down the full cup 
and then set it down, picking up the check.  The number of zeroes on it 
made him wonder if he was drunker than he thought he was.  When they 
did not change as he squinted at them, a feeling of contentment washed 
through him.

With this money, his plans would become a reality.  He had already made 
an offer on the abandoned temple sitting next door to the property 
where the Saotome household was on this world.  It would make a fine 
dojo for the Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts, a fine one indeed.

"This is just like old times, eh, Saotome-kun?" said Daisho, as he 
fondled the girl next to him.  There was nothing like visiting a place 
of the water trade to unwind from a hard week of politics, as well as 
to conduct a little private business.  But now that he had given his 
old friend the check for Kodachi's dowry, sealing the deal between 
their two families, it was time for pleasure.  He turned to the girl 
next to him and gave her a deep kiss, moving his hand up to knead her 
breast.

Akemi Roppongi mimicked being excited when she felt Lord Kuno's hands 
roaming about on her body.  She giggled and sighed at all the proper 
moments to maintain the illusion.  At least he was a much higher class 
of clientele than she usually dealt with, and a much better tipper.  So 
she let him use her body, and expertly feigned her interest.

While his companion enjoyed the girl in his arms, Genma continued to 
drink and smile.  The future was indeed bright.

                   ******************************

After listening to the two girls argue for the better part of an hour, 
Ranma ordered a truce.  Results were mixed.

"Fine," said Nabiki, glowering at the troublesome noblewoman.  She was 
willing to ease off for now, quite confident that the situation would 
eventually resolve in her favor.  After all, Nabiki Tendo never lost.

Kodachi was a bit taken aback at Ranma's words, and she replied rather 
stiffly, "Very well, Saotome-kun, but only because you ask it of me."  
She eyed the other girl coolly, her posture showing that she was every 
inch a lady, something that a lowborn harridan like the Tendo girl 
could never hope to equal.  Her fiancé would come to choose her, since 
anything else was simply inconceivable.

Although that would leave her free to pursue a relationship with Miki, 
she noted idly.  She quickly blushed at the thought, fighting down the 
sudden flow of images in her memory from Sukeban-Kodachi.

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the two girls had not 
chosen to get violent, or worse, mad at him.  He knew that the whole 
situation was still unresolved, and the brief armistice would not last 
for very long, but he had peace between them for now.  That was all 
that mattered for the moment.

"Could you show me my new lab space, Kodachi?" he asked into the 
sudden, deathly silence.

"Of course, Saotome-kun," she answered pleasantly, sounding as if she 
had not been within seconds of going for Nabiki's throat only a few 
moment ago.

Nabiki gestured towards the door, and said dryly, "Then lead the way, 
Kuno-hime."

A short walk later brought them into a less-used section of Kuno Manor.  
Kodachi produced a key and unlocked a sturdy-looking door.  She stepped 
in, and the motion sensors activated the lights smoothly.  Boxes of 
components and tables of unpacked equipment were arrayed around the 
room in an orderly arrangement.

Ranma stepped into the room and almost had a religious experience at 
the sight of the resources now available to him.  He slowly set down 
the battered bookbag containing his notebook and the carefully-boxed 
quantum flux coil within itself.  The room around him made his former 
lab space look totally archaic.

"It's wonderful," he said softly.

Nabiki felt a sudden surge of jealousy at the tone of his voice, and 
she glanced at Kodachi.  The other girl looked insufferably smug at how 
pleased she had made the pigtailed boy, and it rankled her.  Her hand 
closed into a fist at her side.

"I want to get started right away," Ranma said suddenly, startling both 
girls out of their thoughts.  He retrieved his bookbag and pulled out 
the contents, setting them on the central table.  While the two girls 
watched, he took inventory, making notes on what he had and what he 
still needed.

The quest to rescue his father had finally begun, and Ranma and the 
girls labored through the rest of the day working on the quantum neural 
resonator, Mark-II.  If he could somehow manage to keep the two from 
each other's throats long enough to finish it, then his worries would 
be over.

                   ******************************

Later that same day, Ryu Kumon sat in the small dressing room that had 
been made available to him at the Arena.  He could hear the sounds of 
activity out in the hallway as he occupied himself with preparing for 
the upcoming match.  A soft nimbus of chi hovered around his body as he 
meditated.

"Tonight it begins, Father," he suddenly said into the stillness of the 
room.  "The Kumon School of Martial Arts shall begin its rise to 
prominence once again.  I will keep my promise.  I shall become the 
greatest martial artist in the world, by whatever means are necessary.  
I will make you proud of me."

There was a knock at the door.  "Thirty minutes until fight time."

He acknowledged the voice, and the speaker went away.  Ryu went back to 
his meditations.

                   ******************************

Shampoo stepped briskly out of the shower area, her body wrapped in a 
soft towel.  Lithely powerful muscles rippled in her shoulders and arms 
as she rubbed a second towel through her long, violet hair to dry it, 
and she slowly walked the distance to her assigned dressing cubicle in 
her bare feet.  Pausing outside the opening to it, she swiftly wrapped 
the towel around her head before she opened the door to the little 
closet outside it.  With a neutral look, she reached in and pulled out 
her costume for the match tonight.

The costume in question was one of several that she had, but this one 
consisted of a short-sleeved shirt made from a durable, light purple 
silk with two golden dragons embroidered boldly upon it in opposing 
directions.  It was just long enough to hang slightly below her hips, 
and it fit snugly across her torso to show off her figure quite nicely 
without hindering her movements at all.  The plain white sash draped 
over a hangar was used to belt it at her waist.  A skintight set of 
black silken pants was worn beneath it, and a pair of soft leather 
boots in white, laced up the front to mid-calf, completed the outfit.  
It was an audience favorite, so she wore it for most matches, even 
though she found it gaudy.  Her usual complaint sounded in her head as 
she looked it over.

<This silly outfit makes me look like some sort of Kung Fu video 
starlet,> Shampoo glumly thought to herself in her native Mandarin with 
a slight sigh as she stepped into her cubicle.  <But at least it's 
better than that leather outfit they tried to get me to wear to fight.  
Warrior Princess, indeed.  At least silk doesn't chafe.>

Her cubicle was pretty plain in appearance, nearly identical to the 
others in the dressing area.  The only personal touch she had in hers 
was her small collection of clippings on each of her victories.  Around 
the perimeter of her dressing mirror were several dozen small newspaper 
articles, carefully cut out and pasted to cardstock before being tacked 
on the wall.  The headlines were full of such forgettable headers as: 
'Amazon Warrior Scores Another Victory'; 'Chinese Amazon Wins Again'; 
and there was even the first one ever written about her, and the one 
that she most disliked, 'Shampoo: The Amazon Warrior Princess.'  Since 
that particular article had come out, her proper name was now always 
mispronounced as Shampoo, instead of Shan Pu, even by her fellow Arena 
fighters.

The amazon sighed slightly as she sat down in her dressing chair, and 
she stretched her long legs out in front of her.  Tonight felt like it 
was going to be a very good night.  She had three fights scheduled on 
the docket, but none of them looked to be any particular challenge for 
her, two of them were premieres for some corporate-sponsored fighters 
on the Arena circuit, and the third was her Amazon Challenge match.  
She smirked, wondering how quickly she could put her latest 'suitor' 
down for the count.

Relaxing quietly in her chair for a few moments, she loosely rolled her 
head from side to side until the bones in her neck popped lightly.  Her 
muscles were loose and limber from the hot water shower, and she felt 
ready to put on a good show tonight.

Around her, a dozen girls around her own age chatted quietly with each 
other, either around or over the short walls of their individual 
cubicles, as they dressed for tonight.  The mood was slightly subdued, 
as it always was before matches.  An air of nervous tension pervaded 
the room, especially among the newer girls.  Most of them hailed from 
China, now controlled by the Empire of Japan for over a century and a 
half, and the rest of the girls came from the farthest corners of the 
Empire.  There was even one girl of Native American stock, a tall, 
tanned, reddish-skinned beauty who called herself Running Deer in the 
language of her people's conquerors.  She never spoke her name in her 
native Apache.

They were all here for one reason, and one reason only, to provide 
entertainment for their overlords in the Imperial Arena.  Shampoo had 
been here for a number of months now, becoming one of the respected few 
in the Arena subculture.  She had left her people behind many months 
ago, and she had sworn a solemn oath before the village shrine that she 
would not return without the prize she sought: citizenship.  In the 
Arena, it was offered as a sop to motivate the masses who fought, bled, 
and sometimes even died for the entertainment of an Empire.

Shampoo did not care.  Only the prize mattered, the brass ring at the 
end of the ride.  Once each year, a tournament was held, and only the 
greatest fighters in the Arena circuit were invited to compete.  She 
had worked hard to get here, and her goal was soon within her reach.  
She would participate in the Imperial Tournament, and she would win the 
prize of citizenship for herself.  Few women had ever succeeded, but 
she was an amazon, a superior woman from a tribe of heroes.  At the end 
of the tournament, there would be only one victor, and the name the 
crowds screamed would be hers.

Closing her eyes, she let her thoughts drift as she relaxed her mind.  
Being an amazon, her skill in the fighting arts had been quickly 
noticed in the 'dog pits' where she began her career, fighting against 
men and other women in brutal spectacles.  She was selected from among 
her group of warriors to advance to the next rank, the Regional Arena 
in Hong Kong.  From there, her contract was swiftly bought up by Global 
Communications, one of the many corporate zaibatsus that controlled 
most of the wealth of the Empire.  She had become valuable property.

Shampoo was from a tribe of amazons in the southern regions of China, 
the Joketsuzoku.  Her people had been mostly ignored by the invaders 
for over a decade while they subdued the rest of China.  However, 
eventually it was their turn.  Others in the area had chosen to fight 
to the last, such as the Musk.  The Empire had obliged them in this 
desire, and they had committed brutal genocide upon the amazons' most 
ancient enemies as an example to other groups in the area.

The leaders of the Joketsuzoku had chosen to surrender to the Empire on 
semi-favorable terms.  The many secrets of the amazons were preserved, 
and the Imperial government in Tokyo mostly ignored their existence, 
except for collecting taxes.  The amazons paid lip service to the very 
infrequent government officials, but otherwise they went about their 
business.

It was a tribute to Shampoo's supreme fighting skills that her face 
remained unmarked, and her body had only some few, small scars.  These 
scars existed on her torso and limbs, but nothing of any degree that 
would detract from her desirability as a woman.  That beauty, and her 
graceful strength in martial arts combat, were the two reasons why she 
was very popular with the Arena fans.  She didn't really care for her 
small fame.  She used her time in the Arena to polish and improve her 
skills a little more each day, and she looked forward to the day when 
she could finally go home a champion.

The tall Apache girl, Running Deer, was one of the few people that 
Shampoo considered a friend.  The two of them had been together for the 
last few months, ever since the amazon had arrived in Tokyo.  They had 
alternated for the topmost slot of fan popularity, along with a Korean 
girl named Mina Li.  Mina was a powerful martial artist, and perhaps 
the amazon's strongest and most mutually disliked rival in the Arena.  
That rivalry had begun the first time that they had faced each other, 
and it would probably only end when one of them was dead.

Late at night, Shampoo and Running Deer would oftentimes stay up and 
watch movies or talk about their dreams and plans for the future.  The 
dream that Shampoo had was to return home a citizen, and then find a 
man able to win her hand.  Running Deer had laughed at the amazon laws 
when Shampoo had first explained them to her.  She had found them to be 
very odd, especially the idea of falling in love with a man who was 
willing to beat her up as a form of courtship.  However, she eventually 
made the amazon a solemn promise that she would come visit and see what 
they were like for herself.

Shampoo put aside her musings and busied herself getting ready for 
tonight's match.  She unwrapped the towel from around her body, and 
admired herself briefly in the mirror with a smile.  Opening the drawer 
on the right side of her dressing table, she pulled out and slipped on 
one of the pairs of panties that she found neatly folded inside.  Right 
after that, she slipped on a sports bra and adjusted the fit, and then 
she put on the silk shirt and pants.  She paused a moment to study her 
trim figure in the mirror again.

"Look who's admiring herself again," she heard quite clearly from just 
across the way.  The amazon turned to glare at the speaker, the Korean 
contender, Mina Li, who then whispered something more softly to the 
newer girl next to her.  Mina gave Shampoo a cool stare.  "You don't 
have nearly as much to admire about yourself as I do about my own 
figure."

The amazon made no reply.

Mina Li was a beautiful Korean girl who was a couple of centimeters 
taller than Shampoo.  She had a bosomy and lithely muscular figure that 
was barely covered by her low-cut, skintight, white silk outfit.  Her 
straight black hair was cropped short and framed a finely-featured face 
with full lips.  A black sash with blood-red trim was worn around her 
waist, and a pair of soft black slippers on her feet completed the 
outfit.  She was a dangerous beauty, the image she cultivated.

The Korean girl had left a string of broken bodies behind her on her 
climb to her present ranking in the Arena, and she had even killed on 
three separate occasions, her victims two young men and a girl.  The 
girl had been a friend of Shampoo's, a fellow Chinese girl who had been 
an excellent fighter, both with swords as well as barehanded.  Arena 
fights were not supposed to be to the death, especially among the 
elites.  They were each considered to be far too valuable for their 
skills to die on worldwide television, but Mina did not seem to care, 
and her high popularity ratings disgusted Shampoo.  The Korean girl, on 
the other hand, was very jealous of the amazon's greater popularity.

Turning around, Shampoo ignored Mina, since the Korean girl was beneath 
her notice.  This always infuriated the other girl, and the amazon 
heard some loudly-muttered curses in Korean behind her.  The other 
girls in the dressing room were far too afraid of Mina to ever laugh at 
her, except for Running Deer.  Shampoo heard the Apache girl stop 
outside the Korean's cubicle and make some pointedly-barbed, whispered 
comment that earned her a screaming tirade of abuse in Korean.  Shampoo 
ignored Mina's shouting at her friend, and she contented herself with 
looking forward to the day when she would cheerfully kill the girl with 
her bare hands.

"The Korean princess seems to be in fine form today," remarked Running 
Deer casually as she stood outside Shampoo's cubicle, a broad grin on 
her face.  "I don't think she's repeated herself once yet."

The amazon slipped on a pair of socks, and pulled on one of her boots.   
She began carefully lacing it up the front of her shin.  She enjoyed 
how well they fit, and they gave her excellent traction without being 
encumbering.  She nodded as Running Deer chattered on.

"I still think we should go with my idea sometime," said Running Deer 
in a conversational tone of voice.  "I'll hold her arms, and you can 
beat the bra stuffings out of her.  What do you think of that?"

A loud screech of rage emerged from Mina's cubicle.  "I do not stuff my 
bra, you barbarian giant!  These are the real thing, and I have several 
male conquests who will confirm that!"

Running Deer yawned and then smiled.  At a height of 175-centimeters, 
the Apache girl was one of the tallest girls in their age bracket.  She 
came into Shampoo's cubicle with a casual stride, sat down in the extra 
chair, and kicked her feet up on the end of the dressing table.  Her 
Arena outfit was a bit barbaric for Shampoo's tastes, but Running Deer 
liked it.  It consisted of a pair of snug, brown leather pants that 
encased her muscular legs, with a beaded fringe down each outer thigh, 
and a beaded leather vest.  Her straight, coal-black hair was encircled 
by a colorful headband with more beads and eagle feathers in it that 
rested below her bangs, the length in back reaching just below her 
shoulders.  Soft leather moccasins encased her feet.  Her long, bare 
arms were sleek and sinewy.

After pulling on her other boot, the amazon began to lace it up, taking 
her time.  "Running Deer ready for tonight?"  She turned to look at her 
friend.  The other girl thought about it a moment.

"Me?" replied Running Deer, shrugging.  "I'm always ready for a fight.  
I'm hoping for a run for my money though tonight.  I'm starting to 
worry that a lack of challenging opponents is making me soft."  She 
punctuated her statement by smacking a bare fist into her other palm.

"Running Deer is last person that Shampoo would call soft," the amazon 
said with a smile.  Finished with lacing up her boots, she stood up.  
"We go show these soft Japanese a couple of real fighters!"

                   ******************************

Akane was seated to Sakura's right, cheerfully munching on a bag of 
popcorn as the house lights dimmed, and the announcer walked out to the 
center of the Arena.  An enormous video monitor overhead brought the 
man's face into clear focus.  He had the smarmy looks of a game show 
host, but with even better hair.  The man bowed to the crowd briefly, 
and stood up with a smile.

"Good evening, gentlemen and ladies of the Empire!  Tonight we have an 
excellent show lined up for you, so sit back and enjoy the next two 
hours of spine-tingling carnage!  Prepare yourself to witness the acts 
of masters of the arts of fighting!  Our eager competitors come from 
the far corners of the Empire!  Give a cheer for our warriors for the 
evening!"  The man paused as the crowd erupted into cheers for their 
favorite fighters.

Young men and women dressed in colorful fighting costumes jogged out to 
join the announcer in the center.  Akane listened with interest to the 
cheers from the crowd, offering up some of her own.  Beside her, her 
friend was rather quiet.  Some of the fighters apparently had some 
large fan sections, and spotlights wove through the crowd.  Each of the 
fighters also briefly appeared on the monitors with their names below.

Sakura suddenly stiffened when Ryu appeared on the central monitor, his 
name scrolling across the bottom of the screen.  She was able to pick 
him out of the line of fighters easily enough, and he seemed almost 
mesmerized by the crowds surrounding him as he looked around.  Seeing 
the amazon near the other end of the group, Sakura felt an odd sort of 
tightness in her chest.

"Please lose, Ryu-senpai," Sakura whispered, the sound unheard in the 
loud tumult around her.

                   ******************************

After watching men and women beating each other almost to a pulp for 
over an hour, Ryu knew that it was finally time.  He had been closely 
watching the amazon's performance in the two matches that preceded his, 
and her technique was flawless.  Neither of her opponents had even been 
able to touch her, let alone injure her.  He was grateful for that.  
Nothing could be allowed to cast a shadow over his victory tonight, and 
he was within his contractual rights to request a postponement if such 
had been the case.  He gazed at Shampoo, seated some distance from him 
with the other elites.

"He's looking at you again," noted Running Deer in an aside to Shampoo.

"Him male.  All males look at Shampoo," said the amazon with a grin.

Running Deer changed tactics.  "He's cute."

"Shampoo not notice," said the amazon with a shrug.  "Shampoo only care 
if citizen boy defeat Shampoo.  But that not going to happen.  Shampoo 
too strong."

                   ******************************

Finally, it was time for the Amazon Challenge.  A spotlight illuminated 
the figure of the announcer, standing in the center of the Arena.

"Gentlemen and ladies of the Empire!" called out the announcer to the 
crowd.  "Tonight we again bring you a special show, a test of courage 
for a lucky young man.  Now coming into the center of the Arena is the 
lovely Shampoo, one of our finest fighters.  She remains undefeated in 
well over a hundred matches of martial arts competition under this 
roof."  A spotlight followed the amazon as she came out to the center 
in a series of graceful flips and jumps.  She gave one final leap, and 
she landed in the circle of light around the announcer as she came to a 
graceful stop.

"Who has dared to make the attempt to tame this beautiful girl from one 
of the frontiers of the Empire?"  Another spotlight came on over Ryu's 
head, blinding him for a moment as he began walking out to the center 
to join Shampoo and the announcer.  "Ryu Kumon!  Our challenger for 
this evening, comes direct to us from Furinkan Military Academy, one of 
the future officers of our proud Empire's military.  Tonight, if young 
Ryu can defeat his lovely opponent, not only will he win this lovely 
amazon as his bride, but he will also take home a cash prize, tax-free, 
of ten million yen!  As all of Shampoo's many fans across the globe 
know, any man who defeats an amazon in fair combat becomes her husband 
by the laws of her village."

As the announcer walked away, he called out, "And now, let the Amazon 
Challenge begin!"

With thousands of people watching them here in the Imperial Arena, and 
millions more witnessing the spectacle from around the world, Ryu and 
Shampoo engaged each other in combat.

                   ******************************

Akane was on the edge of her seat, cheering loudly for her amazon hero, 
as the match got underway.  She watched as the two traded punches and 
kicks, testing out each other's defenses.  Shampoo made it look almost 
like a flirtation as she pounded blows into Ryu's defenses, somehow 
able to combine cuteness and toughness into a single package that the 
Tendo girl could only envy.

As the match continued on, Akane had a brief fantasy that the couple 
battling down on the floor were herself and Ranma.  She smiled at the 
thought, and she looked forward to the day that she could face him 
again in battle.

                   ******************************

Leaping away from a high-circling kick thrown by Ryu, Shampoo almost 
hovered in midair as she evaded his blows.  The Japanese boy was pretty 
good, but she was slowly taking his measure.  He was fast and strong, 
but she was faster than he was, so she let him wear himself out trying 
to strike at her.

Ryu was astonished.  He had been pulling out every trick that he knew, 
ones that had enabled him to emerge as the top fighter at Furinkan, and 
the amazon was somehow countering everything he threw at her.  What was 
worse, she seemed to be flirting with him, teasing him with her beauty.  
Why else would he keep feeling this intense desire for her burning 
within him?  He had to defeat her, for the sake of his family honor.  
What was becoming more obvious to him was that he had to defeat her, so 
that he could claim her for his own.

The amazon felt a sudden buzzing arise in the back of her skull, and 
she knew that it was now time to end this.  Something powerful was 
building within her, demanding its release.  Her great-grandmother had 
called it the Dragon Rage, a legendary ability that had not been seen 
in well over two thousand years.  It was not something that could be 
trained, but was instead a gift from the gods themselves.  But her 
great-grandmother had also warned her to beware its seductive power.  
If she did not, then the Dragon Rage would consume her from within, or 
so said the legends.

She had given the audience a good show, but Ryu was obviously not the 
one destined to defeat her.  With an almost sorrowful look crossing her 
face, Shampoo let the buzzing fill her mind-

-and unleashed the Dragon Rage.

Ryu felt something change within Shampoo, and he readied himself for 
whatever was coming.  He had time for a single last-ditch defense, and 
then the amazon's attacks were all over him.  A lightning-fast series 
of punches and kicks swiftly ripped through his defenses, each one more 
powerful than the last.  He felt her foot explode against his skull, 
and then the world went dark.

                   ******************************

"RYU-SENPAI!"

Sakura stood there in shock, unable to remember leaping to her feet.  
The audience erupted in cheers for the amazon around her, drowning out 
her own cry in a sea of human voices.  Even Akane was cheering for 
Shampoo, momentarily forgetting her friend.

Down on the Arena floor, Ryu's body had slammed into one of the high 
Plexiglas walls from the sheer force of Shampoo's knockout blow.  He 
had fallen face-down after impact, and he was no longer moving.  Sakura 
clasped her hands together in front of her face.  He just had to be all 
right.

A movement on the Arena floor caught her eye, and she saw the amazon 
stand tall and receive the applause of the crowd with aplomb.  A faint 
haze of crimson seemed to cover her vision as she watched the Chinese 
girl lift both her arms to the sky, her hands closed into fists.  The 
crowd went wild with cheers.

At that moment, gazing down at a victorious Shampoo, Sakura made a 
silent vow in the deepest depths of her heart.  She would face the 
purple-haired amazon in single combat someday, and she would leave 
Shampoo in the same condition as her beloved Ryu-senpai had been left: 
battered, broken, and humbled.  And if the Chinese girl knew what was 
good for her, she would pray to whatever gods she held most dear that 
Sakura Kasugano was feeling merciful that day.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Shampoo has finally made her appearance in the main plotline, so you 
fans of the purple-haired wonder can cease bugging me about that (you 
know who you are).

Thanks to my pre-readers for all of their help and advice:

DB Sommer
Doug Whiddon
Jed Hagen
Michael Allen
Stardragon
Stephen Sparrow