========================= RELENTLESS A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction By Grayson Towler ========================= ----------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER EIGHT: Breakthrough ----------------------------------------------------------- Ryouga popped open his umbrella to break his fall only a few meters before hitting the ground. Even from his elevated vantage point on the cliff face, Ranma could hear the Lost Boy grunt when he hit the ground. It was clear that Ryouga didn't want to be dangling in the air like a dandelion seed when the Reikoku emerged from the rubble. "Damn it! He's gonna get himself killed!" Ranma shouted. He hopped down the cliff face to the next ledge, passing Ukyou in his descent. "Ucchan! You keep goin', you hear me? Get outta here!" He didn't really expect she'd listen. She followed close behind as he made his way down the sheer wall of stone. Ryouga had made a real wreck of the mountainside with his impromptu avalanche. It was going to take some work to find a safe route to the ground with such precarious footing. Neither Ranma nor Ukyou had any way to parachute down, as Ryouga could with his umbrella. Ranma wondered. Below, the rocks began to shift. The monster plowed through tons of stone and rubble with no more difficulty than it had shown when passing through rushing water. No obstacle could stand long between the Reikoku and its prey. Ryouga charged the spot where the Reikoku was emerging, his umbrella poised before him to strike. Ranma thought, "STORMING UMBRELLA MONSOON!" Ryouga howled. His timing was just about perfect. The creature's black-robed body was half-exposed from the prison of rubble when Ryouga struck. He jabbed with his battle umbrella in violent fury, over and over at blurring speeds. Each strike was powerful enough to pulverize stone - a jackhammer would seem like a love tap in comparison. The Reikoku was buffeted and smashed in the midst of Ryouga's punishing assault. The reports of the umbrella striking warped, chitinous armor echoed off the canyon walls like rapid-fire gunshots. Ryouga opened the umbrella for the finishing strike of his attack. The sudden rush of wind caught the twisted figure of the creature full in its grip, hurtling the Reikoku away into the thin forest. Wood exploded and branches flew as the monster plowed a trench through the trees in its path. Ranma could see Ryouga breathing hard. He knew how it felt - his own rapid-punch Amaguriken attack was very tiring, and he wasn't trying to push a massively heavy weapon with each strike. "Did he do it?" Ukyou called breathlessly. "Is it over?" The Reikoku responded before Ranma could. A burst of water streaked through the air towards Ryouga from the cloud of dust and debris where the monster had finally come to rest. Ryouga jerked and blocked it reflexively with his open umbrella. "It can't be!" Ukyou cried in dismay. "How could it have survived that?" "Come on!" Ranma redoubled his efforts to find a path down the mountain. He wished he'd been closer to the action during Ryouga's attack. He wondered if the creature had blocked or dodged some of those umbrella strikes in some way, or if it was really strong enough to come back from such a devastating onslaught. Ryouga crouched behind his umbrella as the barrage of water continued. Ranma could see the Reikoku now, shuffling through the wreckage of the trees at its maddeningly even pace, launching blast after blast in rapid succession. It was all the bandanna-clad martial artist could do to keep himself shielded from the liquid assault. Soon, the Reikoku would be upon him. Ranma heard his friend start to growl with rage. The Lost Boy's battle aura flared bright from behind the shield of his umbrella. "What's he doing?" Ukyou wailed. "Run, you jackass!" Ryouga snarled like an animal and tightened his grip on his umbrella. Suddenly, Ranma realized what he had in mind. he thought with excitement. The Reikoku was just a few meters away. Bursts of water splashed in a staccato tempo off the surface of the red umbrella. "Now, Ryouga!" Ranma shouted. "NOW!" In a sudden, violent motion, Ryouga hurled his umbrella aside. A series of the Reikoku's water blasts struck him square in the chest... and fizzled into steam against his blazing battle aura. "BAKUSAI TEN-KETSU!" When Ryouga jabbed the ground with the breaking point, it wasn't like one of his normal strikes. The stone roared and heaved, flaring bright and hot as it exploded. Flying rubble became a swarm of burning meteors which streaked outwards from the blast point. The Reikoku staggered back under the barrage. Ranma blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected THAT. But the battle aura... he could have kicked himself for not realizing it before. The first night that Ryouga had tried to pull the acorns out of the campfire for the Amaguriken training he'd shown how much heat he could generate from his aura. It was the ideal defense against the water blast attack of the Reikoku. The only drawback, Ranma knew, was that an effort like that would burn Ryouga's reserves up in a hurry. He didn't know if the lost boy could keep it up long enough to finish his foe. Ryouga attacked in a berserk frenzy without any regard to his own defense. Blazing fists slammed into the black robes of the Reikoku, searing it where they struck. Claws raked at Ryouga's flesh and smoldered as they passed through his raging battle aura. He paid them no heed, trusting in his own resistance to pain and injury. "Die! Die! DIE!" The words tore themselves out of his throat as he struck. A talon ripped at his temple, narrowly missing his eye. "DIE! DIE!" His aura began to flicker and wane. Ranma could see he was near the end of his rope. "DIE! Damn you, DIE!" Ryouga's aura flared bright with one final surge of effort. His fist blazed with energy as it plunged down towards the Reikoku. He struck with an explosion of heat and a crack as loud as thunder. The creature fell. He raised his quivering fist again over the prone form, ready to strike again. And then Ranma was beside him, taking him gently by the wrist. His flesh was hot to the touch. "It's over, man," Ranma said. "You won." "Heh..." Ryouga gasped hoarsely. "Wasn't... so tough..." The Lost Boy's eyes rolled up into his head, and he crumpled like a rag into Ranma's arms. Ukyou choked out a sob of immense relief. "He did it. He did it. Ryouga..." "Sorry about this, man," Ranma whispered gently to the unconscious martial artist as he pulled his water flask from his pack. With a splash, Ryouga underwent the transformation which he'd fought so hard to stave off during the fight. Ukyou gave him a perplexed look. "Ranchan! Why'd you do that?" Ranma handed the sleeping piglet to her carefully. "We gotta carry him back up the mountain. It's easier this way." "Oh." Ukyou cradled the tiny black form in her arm. Ranma retrieved Ryouga's umbrella and pack. Climbing that sheer face again with the extra weight wouldn't be much fun, but after Ryouga's effort he didn't have any cause to complain. "Let's get the heck outta here, Ucchan." - - - - - - The great curved sword hissed through the air a bare centimeter from Tarou's throat. The razor-edged weapon split the pantyhose sash around Tarou's neck as he dodged, catching the two pieces of sheer cloth in its wake like butterflies in a gale force. Tarou shifted his stance and managed to duck the follow-up swing, again with little room to spare. If he stayed in close like this, Kiini was going to cut him to shreds. The man became a windmill of steel death once he got that sword going, and even Tarou's speed was barely sufficient to keep him clear of that lethal edge. The chance he'd been waiting for came when the sword brushed an upturned root during one of Kiini's swings, altering its trajectory just a fraction. Tarou lashed out with a two-fingered strike directly towards Kiini's wrist, stabbing at the pressure point with astonishing speed and accuracy. Kiini's fingers should have straightened reflexively when Tarou hit the nerve cluster. His sword should have spun away into the trees when he released it. Instead, Tarou nearly broke his fingers. It was like trying to poke through a bar of solid iron. Kiini clipped Tarou with a glancing slice to the arm. Tarou winced, and then the swordsman suddenly broke the arc of his swing and brought the pommel of his sword down like a hammer. Tarou took the shot square in the forehead. Reflexes saved him - he tumbled backwards without really thinking, away from the flashing blade and certain defeat. Kiini simply stood and laughed as Tarou recovered his footing. "Did you really think it would be so easy to disarm a master of the Muscle Sword?" he gloated. "I am one with my blade, it is an extension of my soul! Such a stupid tactic. And here I'd heard you were clever!" He threw back his head and laughed. If the fool was going just to sit there and crack himself up, Tarou wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. He launched himself at his foe, unloading with a merciless combination of fore-knuckled blows. He struck unerringly at Kiini's vital points - the solar plexus, the throat, the temple. It felt like he was bouncing punches off a sheet of stone. Kiini took a step back and grunted in pain. With a roar, he lashed out in a brutal arc with his blade. The air rippled with power, and Tarou felt himself caught in a shockwave. Earth split and nearby trees cracked as the wave of force ripped through the air. Tarou hurtled away from Kiini and crashed to the ground painfully. "That," Kiini growled, "was very rude!" Tarou scrambled to his feet and backed away from the advancing swordsman warily. Those hits would have put a normal man in his grave, and even a strong martial artist should have fallen. Kiini must have undergone some serious endurance training to shrug off such fearsome blows with so little effort. "It's fitting that we are fighting so close to Jusenkyou," Kiini said as he stalked Tarou. "Once I defeat you, I will take you there and find an appropriate new spring for you. Drowned Weasel, perhaps. No, the Drowned Rat! Or the Drowned Thompson's Gazelle!" Tarou's foot struck something as he stepped. He spared a brief glance down and saw the water flask he'd cast aside earlier in the fight. In a sudden motion, he snatched it off the ground. Kiini set his sword spinning in front of him. Tarou felt a rush of wind in his face. It was a good defense - if he tried to throw a splash of water in the warrior's direction, it would be blown harmlessly away. But that wouldn't stop Tarou from changing himself. "Yes, let's see that cursed form of yours!" Kiini laughed challengingly. "This will be the last time you ever get to use it, Pantyhose Tarou!" He felt his anger flaring, but he forced his rage away. He refused to let himself be taunted by this muscle-bound oaf. With a deft motion, he tossed the flask towards the Jusenkyou Guide, who was crouched behind a boulder observing the fight. The chubby man fumbled with the container a moment before he caught it. "Hold on to that for me," Tarou said in an even tone. "I'm going to be needing it here in just a moment." "Pshaw!" Kiini snorted. "How boring. Without your cursed form, you're nothing!" "If I'm nothing, how come you haven't finished me yet?" Tarou taunted back. "Come on, fatso. Let's see this so-called Muscle Sword technique of yours." "Fool!" Kiini bellowed. He charged Tarou, sword slashing the air in a deadly pattern. Tarou backpedaled and kept his distance easily. Kiini was strong and brutally skilled with his blade, but he wasn't much of a runner. And Tarou was guessing that he wasn't blessed with a vast store of patience. "Come back here, coward! I'll dunk you in the Spring of the Drowned Chicken!" "I see you've already fallen into the Spring of the Drowned Blowhard," Tarou sneered. Kiini's face grew red with anger. He stopped running and took his sword in both hands. The mighty warrior slashed at the ground in a great overhand strike. A thin, powerful shockwave streamed out from the edge of the weapon, slicing a trench in the earth as it streaked towards Tarou. The young martial artist leaped nimbly aside and took a few more steps back. Kiini roared and launched a few more slashing waves in Tarou's direction, but the Chinese boy had no trouble dodging them. They were powerful, yet Kiini telegraphed this attack from a mile away. "If I were a birthday cake," he called mockingly, "I'd be terrified." "Silence!" Kiini raged. He brought his sword up over his head and spun it like a helicopter blade with both hands. "Taste the fury of the Muscle Sword technique!" The twirling blade lifted Kiini into the air. Waves of raw power flowed outwards in every direction from the giant of a warrior. The wind rushed and the ground trembled. Rocks and clumps of dirt hurled themselves skyward as energy coursed through the air from Kiini's twirling sword. It was as if the earth was shaking itself apart under his command. That was fine by Tarou. The little debris didn't hurt that much, and he could avoid the big chunks of stone with ease. In fact, he suddenly saw a way he could put these hurtling stones to use. He sprinted in a circling pattern, flowing with the force of the spiraling maelstrom. As he closed the distance to the raging Kiini, he launched himself into the air and leaped off one of the floating stones. The momentum carried him close enough to the swordsman to strike. He couldn't get much power behind his attack with such an awkward charge, but he didn't need it. There was no regimen in the world that could toughen up a man's eyeballs. Kiini broke off his earth storm attack and dropped to the ground, clutching his face and snarling angrily. Tarou hadn't hit him hard enough to blind him, but the jab to Kiini's eyes had undoubtedly hurt. Tarou landed. He ached in a dozen different places - charging into the heart of Kiini's storm like that had put him in the path of more flying rocks and shrapnel than he could avoid - but it had been worth it. He'd needed to make Kiini use some of his more extravagant techniques, to burn his power and wear himself out. The big man was panting for air and blinking painfully. Tarou didn't give him a chance to recover. He rushed the swordsman, ducking under his defensive strike and moving in very close, where it would be harder for the warrior to swing at him with his blade. Tarou unloaded with his most devastating attacks, holding nothing back as he rained down blows upon Kiini's rock-hard body. His assault did not come without cost. Kiini bull-rushed him and knocked him back with sheer bulk, and nearly split him in half with a murderous chop. But Tarou jerked back in time, and the sword only opened a shallow gash across his chest. The steel buried itself in the stone, and Tarou charged before Kiini could free his weapon to strike again. When the big man released his grip on his sword and staggered backwards, Tarou knew the fight was over. Even so, it took another long series of attacks before the giant warrior finally went down. Tarou thought as he stood over Kiini's fallen form, gasping for breath. He wished that idiot Hibiki had been here to see this. He would have liked that very much. "K... Kiini!" Tarou glanced over and saw the spokesman for the Jusenkyou Preservation Society approaching with a look of utter disbelief on his face. Tarou flashed him an unpleasant grin. "Oh yes," he said. "You. I almost forgot." The man's eyes went wide, and he backed away from Tarou with a look of horror on his face. Tarou reached down and grabbed a handful of Kiini's shirt. He dragged the bulky swordsman behind him as he advanced. "What are you doing? Keep away!" the spokesman wailed. Tarou ignored him. He reached his pack and let go of Kiini. "Guide," he snapped. "My flask, if you please." The Guide approached, trembling. "Oh sir, what you going to do now?" Tarou grunted as he searched through his supplies. "I have a little present for you idiots," he said to the spokesman. "You claim that you protect these springs, but I've never heard of you doing anything useful. In fact, all you ever seem to do is get your cheap thrills by going around torturing people who have curses. And the only reason you've survived this long is because of him." He jerked a thumb at the unconscious Kiini. "Uh..." the spokesman fiddled with his hat and looked nervous. "But you won't have him anymore," Tarou said with certainty. "You're going to kill him!" the spokesman exclaimed. "Oh sir, please no do that!" "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Tarou said with an evil chuckle. "No, I've got something much more appropriate in mind. First, a dash of water." Kiini shrunk dramatically when the water hit, his features shifting as his body underwent the change. He was still a man after the transformation, but that was about all his cursed form had in common with his true body. The bald, skinny little monk looked like a child lost in the baggy tent of Kiini's clothing. It seemed the change was enough to drag him towards consciousness again - Kiini the monk blinked and looked about with glazed eyes. "Mmm... oh. Oh my. What is the sound of one hand falling in the forest, if nobody is around to hear it?" he muttered as he sat up. Tarou grinned. "And now, the finishing touch," he said with a menacing flourish. He carefully withdrew another container from his pack and poured a small quantity of the water within onto the diminutive monk. There was no visible change - Kiini barely seemed to notice it. The spokesman eyed the bottle in Tarou's hand suspiciously. "What was that? What did you do?" Tarou just laughed. "Kiini?" The spokesman's voice trembled as he spoke. "Are you all right?" "Zen is like a hubless wheel hanging in a tree from its teeth over a precipice," Kiini explained sagely. "Why don't you change him back?" Tarou suggested. "I know the Guide always keeps a warm kettle handy." On cue, the Guide handed over a steaming kettle of water. The spokesman poured a trickle of water onto Kiini's head, but was not rewarded by the expected transformation. Kiini remained in his monk form, paying no attention to the hot water. "What did you do to him?" the spokesman wailed. "It's called Chisuiton," Tarou explained. "I think you can tell what it does by now." "Wha... wha..." the spokesman stammered. He looked at Kiini with frantic eyes. "How could you do such a thing?" Tarou crossed his arms. "It seemed fitting. I like him better this way." "The lioness teaches her cubs to search for fire with a lighted lantern," Kiini commented agreeably. "Sounds like he's still a bit concussed," Tarou observed. "D... does it wear off?" the spokesman asked in pleading tones. "No." "Is... is there..." the weasely man licked his lips nervously. "Is there a cure?" "Oh, of course." "Could you please give it to me?" he begged. "I don't have it," Tarou lied smoothly. "I can tell you how to get it, though." "Tell me!" the spokesman cried. "Please, sir, please tell me, and I promise we won't ever bother you again!" Tarou made a long show of thinking it over as he composed his story in his mind. "All right. I suppose it's only fair. First, you have to go to the Gobi desert and seek a member of a rare, ancient race known as the Red Ogres. They're very reclusive and quite dangerous - it will be very hard to find a guide who's even willing to talk about them, I'm afraid. In any case, you must slay one of these beings and take the horn which protrudes from its forehead. I suggest you leave quickly once you've done this... they tend to be very vengeful, but they won't follow you out of the desert. Are you with me so far?" "Uh..." "You must take the horn to an island off the coast of India, to the Palace of the Five Scepters. The guardians of the palace will then subject you to five ordeals, each of which is more difficult than the last. I am not permitted to warn you of the nature of the ordeals, I'm afraid, but I hope you have a good firm grip on your sanity." The spokesman swallowed hard. "Assuming you survive the ordeals, the guardians of the palace will provide you with a map. This map will take you to a secret path in the frozen wastes of northern Asia, through the land of the Howling Spirits. The journey will eventually lead you to the lair of the Dragon of Winter, who will ask you three riddles. If you answer these riddles correctly, the Dragon of Winter will give you the cure. If not... well, best not to dwell on that." "Has a dog a Buddha nature?" Kiini asked a curious squirrel. "Compared to the Chinese god who moved a flag with his mind, it is like throwing a pebble at a minnow." The spokesman's jaw dangled loosely as he stared at Tarou with wide, horrified eyes. "A...ah. I... see. I don't suppose there's an easier way?" "I'm afraid not." The fool's expression was priceless. Tarou had to struggle to keep a straight face. The spokesman for the Jusenkyou Preservation Society looked like a man on the way to his own funeral. He turned away from Tarou slowly, taking hold of Kiini's arm with numb fingers. "Come on, Kiini," he said in a dead voice. "We've got... a long journey in front of us." "Asking what Buddha is," Kiini noted patiently, "is like hiding a bull in one's pocket and declaring oneself an impenetrable ravine." "Yeah, right," the spokesman muttered. He gave Tarou one last mournful look over his shoulder, then trudged away down the forest path with a gently babbling Kiini in tow. "Well, that gives him a hobby," Tarou quipped. "Sir, that very mean thing to do," the Guide said. The martial artist gave him a wry look. "I notice you didn't offer to tell him the truth." The Guide twiddled his thumbs nervously and looked away. "I thought that not such good idea, maybe. Mr. Customer might have gotten angry, no?" "Smart man," Tarou said with a wicked grin. "Now, let's get down to business. As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, I'm looking for a spring..." - - - - - - "Kick, punch, it's all in the mind If you want to test me, I'm sure you'll find The things I'll teach ya Are sure to beat ya But nevertheless, you'll get a lesson from teacher..." Akane regarded Kurumi with a baffled stare as the girl completed her odd little song. "What was that?" she asked. "Nothing!" the little martial artist chimed. "Come on, let's start!" Akane shrugged and crossed the dojo floor to meet her opponent. Her father, Mr. Saotome, and Natsume sat cross-legged at the edge of the mat, observing this latest training session. The spar was mostly a warm-up - in an hour, she'd go out with Dr. Tofu to the rock, and then come back for a more serious match with Natsume. Akane had never trained so hard in her entire life. What amazed her was that the harder she worked, the more energy she seemed to have the next day. Every day was still a struggle, yet it felt like she'd broken through some sort of barrier. She was still sore all the time, but the pain was manageable and it didn't seem to really slow her down anymore. The fights every morning at school were getting easier by the day, even though the boys had begun to use more weapons and coordinate their attacks better. She was even up to two sessions a day with the boulder - once in the morning, once in the evening - and had stopped needing the pads. The breaking point continued to elude her, but at least her endurance was improving. Her toughness and strength were on the rise, so Kurumi and Natsume focused on improving her speed and technique. Her father and Mr. Saotome often offered their instruction from the sidelines. For someone who had mostly been in charge of her own training for the past several years, such concentrated attention was an exhilarating experience. Akane lashed out with a kick combination, which her opponent dodged with ease. She gnashed her teeth slightly and pressed her attack. Too late, she realized that she'd left herself open, and felt Kurumi bounce a series of rapid blows off her ribs and temple. Fortunately, it seemed like the girl wasn't hitting at full strength - the strikes were more embarrassing than painful. Training with Kurumi reminded Akane of her spars with Ranma. The small girl moved like a hummingbird, with her lazy-seeming stance and sudden bursts of blinding movement. Her focus with the Anything-Goes style involved frustrating her opponent, forcing an adversary to leave openings and make mistakes. Her sister's style was more like Akane's, based on poise and strength. Of course, it was a bit different when they used their weapons. Kurumi suddenly lashed out with her ribbon as Akane was landing from a flying kick. She saw that there was no way she could avoid getting her feet entangled, so she simply allowed the ribbon to wrap her ankles together. The fine silk stung like fire to the touch - a very advanced trick of ki-focusing that Kurumi had mastered - but Akane ignored the pain. She fell as the ribbon tightened, pretending she'd been tripped, but as she went down she rolled over to her back and kicked up with her legs in a sudden, violent motion. She'd been hoping that she'd disarm Kurumi with the attack, but the little girl held onto the ribbon and was yanked into the air. She tumbled and twisted as she sailed over Akane's head, bringing her feet around underneath her to land. As Kurumi was about to hit the mat, Akane thrust her legs hard the other direction, snapping the girl at the end of her own ribbon like a whip. Kurumi's body jerked around and she landed hard on her back. She was tougher than she looked, though - with a flick of her wrist she unwound the ribbon from Akane's ankles before she could try to throw her again. The two fighters rolled to their feet faced each other again. "Would anyone like a snack?" Kurumi's eyes bugged wide and she whirled to the door. "Kasumi!" she exclaimed with glee. "Food!" For a moment, Akane considered taking a swipe at the girl while she'd left herself open. Certainly, there were plenty of martial artists who would take the opportunity - "Never turn your back to an opponent until the fight is over," as the saying went. But Akane didn't see that there was anything worthy about taking a cheap shot at a friend. She relaxed her stance and wiped the sweat from her face. Kasumi held the tray of steaming pork buns at arm's length as Kurumi charged. The diminutive martial artist attacked the plate with deranged gusto, snatching the savory buns and cramming them into her mouth in a frenzy of motion and sound. Kasumi remained unperturbed. "I brought some lemonade," she informed the others as the small, hungry beast frothed like a whirlwind around her extended arm. "Ah, thank you Kasumi," Tendou Soun said. "That sounds just fine." "Can I have... a pork bun?" Mr. Saotome asked hopefully, eyeing the besieged platter. Kurumi whirled and glared at him with bloodshot eyes, snarling like a badger and covering her pork buns protectively. Saotome Genma flinched back and trembled. "Your reaction to Kurumi's ribbon attack was very good, Akane," Natsume said as she accepted a glass from Kasumi. "Your form and technique have always been strong, but now you're learning to improvise in battle. The ability to adapt to a foe is the greatest strength of the Anything-Goes style." Akane bowed in thanks for the praise - something about Natsume engendered an unconscious tendency towards formality. "There's something I've been wondering," she said. "How is it that you two know the Anything-Goes style? I mean, I thought the Tendou and Saotome families were the only practitioners." Natsume sipped her lemonade thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's easier to show you than to tell you. Kurumi, could you please fetch the scroll?" The younger of the sisters continued to savage the plate of pork buns as if it was the only thing in the world. "Kurumi!" Natsume barked. Kurumi snapped out of her eating reverie and stared. Her face was greasy and flecked with bits of pork and cabbage. "Hmm?" "Please retrieve the scroll and bring it here," Natsume instructed. Kurumi eyed the remaining pork buns on the platter, then shot an angry look at Saotome Genma. The bespectacled man whistled innocently and pretended not to be paying attention. A low, feral growl emerged from the young martial artist's throat. Then, quick as lightning, she stuffed the remaining pork buns into her mouth. Genma let out a low whimper of disappointment as Kurumi scampered away, cheeks bulging like a squirrel's. "Here it is!" she announced a few moments later as she bounded back into the dojo. "You did wash your hands before touching it, didn't you?" Natsume asked. Her sister nodded vigorously and handed a tightly-wrapped parchment to Natsume. The elder girl unfastened the ribbon and rolled open the scroll with deliberate care and reverence. "We believed this scroll was left to us by our father," she explained. "What is it?" Akane asked, craning to get a look. "The thirty-seven fundamental principles and forms of the Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts," Natsume said in a low, respectful voice. "AAAAARRGGGHH!" Akane jerked back in surprise at her father's unexpected scream. The other girls were equally startled, but Saotome Genma added a wail of anguish of his own. "What?" Akane gasped. "What's wrong with you two?" "The memories!" Genma cried. "Oh, the terrible long nights of horrible suffering and torment!" "Indeed, Saotome," Tendou Soun wept. "How can we ever forget the agony we endured? The sight of this scroll," he touched the thin paper with a fingertip, "brings it all back as if it were yesterday." "What happened?" Akane asked, her eyes wide. "It was years ago," her father explained. "Saotome and I were still but students together, slaves laboring under the yoke of the cruel Master. One night, on one of his savage whims, he commanded us each to transcribe the fundamental principles of the Anything-Goes school, so they might be preserved for all time." "That doesn't sound so terrible," Akane observed. "You fail to take into account the perverse sadism of the Master!" her father moaned. "I wish you'd stop calling him 'the Master,'" she grumbled irritably. "Er... yes. Anyway, he wasn't satisfied with simply having the words on paper. He insisted that a document of such magnitude must be rendered with absolutely perfect calligraphy. He took us to a mountain temple, where he chained us to a large stone and gave us only cold water and rice paste until we completed the task he set before us." "The sheer evil of it!" Genma groaned. "Each evening he would return from his debauchery, reeking of sake, and look upon our work. If he found even a single flaw in either of our lettering, he would take both scrolls out and set them on fire right before our eyes! The Master was..." "He is NOT the Master!" Akane growled. "If you call him that again, I'm going to get really angry!" Genma cringed. Soun shook his head as tears streamed down his cheeks. "We lost track of the days and weeks. Autumn turned to winter, and we shivered in the cold winds, carefully measuring each stroke of the brush with trembling hands. The art of true Japanese calligraphy is grueling even under good conditions. Neither of us were very good at it, but that didn't matter to the M... er... mean old man." "Oh come on," Akane said. "I've seen that old pervert's handwriting. It looks like chicken-scratch!" "It doesn't matter!" Saotome Genma insisted. "Just because he couldn't letter a legible note to save his life didn't stop him from forcing US to become expert calligraphers to suit his whims. Since when did the Ma... the uh... monstrous old pervert... ever practice what he preached?" Natsume stared at the scroll before her in wonder. "We've had it all this time, but we never knew about any of that," she said. "Say, Saotome," Tendou Soun commented as he examined the scroll. "This is the scroll you made, isn't it?" Genma rubbed the back of his neck and waved in denial. "Ha ha! Can't be, Tendou. That one must be yours." "I don't think so, Saotome," Soun said. "I still have mine locked away. And this is your semi-cursive style. I remember it clearly." Genma made of show of examining the scroll and laughed nervously. "Oh yes! So it is. Well, how do you like that?" "How'd they end up with a scroll you made?" Akane asked. "Oh well... you see... uh," Genma scratched his head and wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. "Oh yes! The Ma... martial artist formerly known as the Master...took my scroll from me after I was finished. Yes, I remember now. He must have left it with these two girls when he was posing as Tendou. Heh..." "We suspected that was probably what happened," Natsume said with a sigh. "Well, it doesn't matter. The scroll has been our most precious possession since we where orphaned. That's how we learned the style of Anything-Goes martial arts." "It's amazing that you learned to fight so well from a scroll," Kasumi commented. "You had to have some training along the way," Akane said. "I mean, you both use weapons. That's not a part of Anything-Goes." "We have learned from different masters over the years," Natsume agreed. "Anything-Goes martial arts is an omnivorous style, meant to absorb and incorporate techniques from other schools. Hasn't your Ranma learned many of his techniques elsewhere?" "Well, that's true." Natsume nodded. "So we've trained wherever we could, in order to expand our skills and the Anything-Goes school. For instance, we both trained under a master who taught the Elements of the Soul." "Elements of the Soul?" Akane repeated. "What's that?" Natsume sipped her lemonade thoughtfully. "According to the principle of the Elements of the Soul, each person has a natural affinity for one of the four elements of water, air, earth and fire. By focusing on the element that is most akin to your own soul, you can strengthen the connection to that force and draw forth your own power." "And that's how you two learned your special attacks?" "Yes. Kurumi's element is fire. You can see how it fits her personality. Her energy and bright spirit are a natural fit. She even has an appetite like a burning flame. My element is air - the cold counterpart to my sister's flame." "It was easy to tell," Kurumi piped up. "How?" Akane asked. "Because she pees ice cubes," Kurumi asserted. Her timing was exquisite. She managed to catch both Tendou Soun and Saotome Genma in the middle of long sips of lemonade. The two elder martial artists snorted in surprise and sprayed lemonade out of their noses. Both groaned and clutched their faces, their nostrils burning with citric acid, and did painful little dances at the edge of the mat. Natsume remained unruffled. "An exaggeration, I assure you." Kurumi grinned at Akane, who found herself giggling. "Every once in a while, you can catch her off guard. You just gotta keep looking for your opportunity." "I'll remember that," Akane said, then laughed again. "You ready to spar some more?" "Yeah!" Kurumi bounced back to her place on the mat. "Now, don't go easy on me," Akane instructed. "Easy?" "Hit as hard as you can when you have an opening," she explained. "I have to keep pushing myself or I'll never get better." Kurumi rubbed her knuckles unconsciously and shrugged. "Okay, whatever you say." "Let's go!" The two girls circled each other as their spar began again. Kurumi began to sing once more: "Don't get cocky, it's gonna get rocky, We're gonna move down to the next, ya jockey now..." - - - - - - The world shifted gently around him, a rhythmic sway that held him in its comforting embrace. Ryouga could feel the aches of his wounded body, but they seemed far away and inconsequential. He hadn't been given the opportunity to enjoy too many moments of real peace in his life - he liked to savor them when they did come. "Hey, I think he's awake! Ryouga?" Of course, they never lasted. A hand shook him gently on the shoulder, drawing fully back to consciousness. He blinked and turned his head slowly to take in his surroundings. He was a little disoriented to realize that the world was still swaying, until his beleaguered mind finally made the connection. "We're on a boat," he whispered. His voice was as dry as burnt parchment, an unrecognizable croak which rubbed his throat raw when he spoke. "Here, sugar," as soothing voice said. "Drink some water." She slid her hand under his head and propped him carefully up, tilting a cup to his lips. The trickle of water down his throat was pure, cool relief. He worked his way up to his elbows and took the cup. "Thanks," he said, in a voice that sounded a little more like his own. Ukyou gave him a lingering, tender smile. "Hey man," Ranma said as he knelt down beside him. "You're lookin' better. How do ya feel?" Ryouga's stomach answered before he did in a loud, rumbling gurgle. "Hungry," he said. "Well, I can take care of that!" Ukyou laughed. "One special strength-building okonomiyaki coming right up." "I ain't surprised," Ranma said, nodding. "You really burned out your energy reserves with that stunt. Still, I gotta admit, that was pretty smart." The Lost Boy gave him an ironic look. "You're calling me smart?" Ranma shrugged. "First time for everything, I guess. I shoulda thought of that myself. How'd you figure out how to do that meteor-swarm thing?" "Heh. I didn't. It just sort of happened." Ryouga drained his cup and refilled it from the water flask. "Pretty cool, though." "Maybe you can work on that as some sort of new technique if you have to fight that thing again," Ukyou suggested as she brought him his food. "I don't think I'll be fighting it anymore," Ryouga said with a sigh. "Hey, why not?" Ukyou looked concerned. "You can't be giving up now. I mean, you found a defense against that water attack..." "It won't work again," Ryouga said with absolute certainty. "Why not?" "He's right," Ranma said. "If there's one thing about the Reikoku, it's that the same trick never works twice. It'll come up with somethin' to counteract Ryouga's heat aura if he tries it again." "Like what?" Ukyou asked. "Probably a really powerful water stream that can punch through the aura," Ryouga suggested glumly. "If Ryouga tried that against me," Ranma said, "I'd use the Hiryuu Shoten-ha technique. That monster might do somethin' similar. With all the heat he puts off, it'd knock him clear back to Tokyo." "It'd be one way to get back without taking a plane," Ryouga mused with a grim chuckle. "Or," Ranma continued, "it'd just hold out until his aura gave way. Remember, it gets a lot tougher every time. Ryouga couldn't have gone on much longer this time... if he tried it again, that thing'd just wear him down until he couldn't protect himself anymore." "Oh," Ukyou said in a small voice. "I see." Ranma clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't let it get you down, Ucchan. You're right about one thing - we oughta be able to figure out some new attacks based on that heat-aura trick. I already got an idea..." "It won't do ME any good," Ryouga grumbled. "So long as I turn into a pig, I won't have a chance against that monster again! Damn it!" An amazed expression crept its way across Ranma's features. "I can't believe it," he whispered. "What?" "What a dumbass I've been!" he exclaimed, slapping himself on the forehead. "We've been in China this whole time and we never even thought of it." Ryouga realized what he was saying. His heart began to race with excitement. "Do... do you know how to get there?" Ranma grinned. "You bet your ass I do!" "What?" Ukyou asked, bewildered. "Where?" "Jusenkyou," Ranma said. "We're gonna go find a cure." - - - - - - Akane attacked her breakfast with angry ferocity. Another morning, another training session with that damned stone, and still she couldn't find the breaking point. Dr. Tofu had instructed her to be patient, to focus her concentration and look with her mind's eye, but it wasn't doing any good. She wondered if she should just be satisfied with the increase in strength and endurance she'd enjoyed from the regimen. After all, that was the ultimate goal of the bakusai ten-ketsu training - the thing with blowing up the rocks was neat but of limited value in a fight. Akane could take a hit from the boulder in stride now without even being knocked unconscious. Was there any point in continuing to abuse herself if she'd already gotten what she wanted? "Let's see," Natsume said from across the table. "'Cooking and Catering Magazine.' Is that for you, Kasumi?" "Er..." Nabiki spoke up. "Actually, that's mine." "Ah. Here you go." Natsume had taken to sorting through the morning mail before they headed off to school. She and her sister had both gone out of their way to accept chores and responsibilities around the household. It was clear that they were determined not to be perceived as freeloaders by anybody. If there was any complaint, it was that they were a little too earnest sometimes. "A request for a contribution to the Nerima Public Works Corps," Natsume announced. "Oh, I'll handle that one," Kasumi said. "Mmm, this is interesting," Natsume commented as she opened the next letter. "It's an invitation to a martial arts tournament." Kurumi perked up. "A tournament?" "Yes." The tall girl studied the letter thoughtfully. "It looks like it's being held on a secluded island somewhere in the Pacific." "Really?" Kurumi gasped. "A tournament on a secluded island? Oh wow... it's got to be run by some sort of crimelord. No, a sorcerer! No, a GOD! A demon god from another dimension! Only the winner of the tournament can stop the demon god from entering our world and enslaving humankind!" She hopped to her feet and paced around the dining room energetically. "Are we up to this? We're going to be facing elite martial artists from all over the world, and the foul servants of the underworld, and the awesome power of the demon god itself! Do two girls from Japan really have the strength to save the world? Such a huge responsibility on such young shoulders! Natsume!" The young girl gasped in excitement and terror. "What are we going to do?" "Oops," Natsume said calmly. "I misread that. The tournament is being held at the local youth center." Kurumi's jaw dropped. Natsume gave Akane a small, sly wink. "You... you... you did that on purpose!" the little martial artist spluttered, shaking an accusing finger at her sister. She stalked about in circles, flailing her arms angrily. "Oooh! Meanie! Meanie meanie meanie!" Natsume ignored her sister's paroxysms of indignant rage and studied the letter a bit longer. "The tournament's in a little over a month. I suspect at least one of us should probably go. Good publicity for the dojo." "I hope to be gone by then," Akane said. "Oh? Do you think you're close to mastering the breaking point?" Natsume asked curiously. Akane fiddled with her chopsticks a bit. "I don't know. I think maybe I've gotten as much out of this training as I can." Kurumi's wrath dissipated almost instantaneously. "Maybe you're not an earth person," she said. "What?" Natsume cleared her throat. "The technique you're learning sounds like something from the earth element, according to the Elements of the Soul school. If your natural affinity doesn't lie with the earth, then it may be much harder for you to learn." Kurumi took her place at the table. "I thought for sure you were an earth," she said. "Why?" Akane asked. "Well, you're really strong and stuff. And you've got a lot of willpower. That seems like an earth person to me," she explained. Akane thought, but she found herself feeling very pleased by Kurumi's words. "Thanks," she said. "Oh!" Kasumi exclaimed. "Perhaps that explains your difficulty with learning to swim, Akane." "She can't swim?" Natsume asked. "Sinks like a block of granite," Nabiki observed dryly. "See?" Kurumi said. "I think you're an earth person. I wonder what your Ranma is? I wish we'd gotten to see him fight some more. He's so fast and adaptable... probably water, wouldn't you say, sis?" "He's dense enough to be rock sometimes," Nabiki pointed out. Natsume shook her head. "The Elements of the Soul school isn't meant to classify people into four distinct personality types," she said. "It isn't always easy to tell where a person's affinity lies, or how strong that affinity is. Kurumi and I practice the techniques, but we're not masters. I don't think either of us are really qualified to make these sorts of determinations." Kurumi sighed. "I guess so." "A true student of the school starts with their strongest element," explained Natsume, "but that doesn't mean you stop there. The master who taught us the Elements of the Soul had spent long years of study and practice to develop an affinity for all four elements." "He must have been very wise," Akane said. "She was." Natsume smiled as she spoke. "In any case, Akane, we aren't masters, but maybe we can help you anyway. Why don't we start going with you to your training exercises?" "Come if you like," Akane said, gripping her chopsticks in her hand and thinking about the rock again. "I don't care if I'm an earth person or not, though. I don't care what it takes. I won't give up until I finish the training." The chopsticks snapped in half. She barely noticed. The phone rang. "Hello?" Kasumi answered. "Oh my! Ranma!" Akane's heart soared. "Ranma!" "It's so good to hear from you," the eldest Tendou said. "Are you well?" Akane rushed to the phone and bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet. She strained to hear the sound of his voice coming across the wire. "How amazing!" Kasumi said. "Ranma, I think Akane wants to talk to you." She extended the receiver towards her youngest sister. Akane took the phone in trembling hands. "Ranma?" "Hey, Akane. How's it goin'?" She felt her knees go weak. She leaned against Kasumi for support. Tears were trickling down her cheeks, everybody was watching her, but she didn't care. It was so very, very good to hear his voice again. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I've been working really hard." "Yeah? Listen, I'm sorry we ain't called for so long. That stupid Pantyhose ran off and left us stranded in the middle of the Himalayas. I shoulda never trusted that guy." "But you're okay? The monster..." "We got a good lead on it again," he said. "Ryouga fought it a second time. Heck, even I was impressed!" "Is he okay?" "Sure, he's fine. We're all trainin' pretty hard in case we meet it again. Has Nabiki been keepin' track of the old goat?" Akane looked towards her short-haired sister. "They want to know about Happosai." "Uh..." Nabiki twiddled her thumbs. "Well, it hasn't been easy..." "I think we lost him, Ranma," Akane said. "I'm sorry." "Ah, don't worry about it," Ranma told her. The easy confidence in his voice made her heart ache. "He can't hide forever." Akane was proud that she could keep the trembling out of her voice. If Kasumi let her go, she'd probably fall into a heap on the floor. Still, some part of her kept the conversation going. "Hey Ranma, do you remember Natsume and Kurumi?" "Uh... oh yeah! What about 'em?" "They're living here now. They're helping..." she'd started to tell him that they were training her, but she wasn't ready to talk about that yet. She didn't want to listen to him tell her to stay away. "They're helping Daddy teach lessons at the dojo." "You're old man's giving lessons again?" "You don't have any objections, do you?" He sounded confused. "Why would I?" Akane giggled. "You're the Master now, remember?" Ranma laughed. "Oh yeah! No, I ain't got no problem with that. Heh..." "I really miss you, Ranma," Akane heard herself say. Ranma let out an embarrassed cough. "Uh... well, yeah. Me too." She smiled and cradled the phone to her ear. "I'd better go, Ranma. School's about to start soon." "Yeah, I don't wanna make you late," he said. "Hey, give Kunou a boot to the head for me, okay? Y'know, for old time's sake." "I will," she promised. "You take care, Ranma. I'm glad you're all right." "Was there any doubt?" he boasted, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Dummy," she said back, but the word felt sweet on her lips. "I'll see you soon," she said. "You bet!" he answered, not realizing what she really meant. "Take care, Akane." "'Bye, Ranma." "'Bye." Akane handed the receiver back to Kasumi so she could hang it up. She clutched her big sister and let the tears flow. "He's alive," she whispered to herself, buried in Kasumi's warm embrace. "He's alive." - - - - - - "How was your meal, sir?" The middle-aged gentleman handed his plate back to Nabiki and wiped a few crumbs from his mouth with a napkin. "The sauce was very delicious," he said. "But I think it may have been a little undercooked in the middle." Nabiki bowed slightly and sighed. she thought. "Sorry about that, sir. I'll give you a refund on your meal." The man in the business suit gave her a genial smile and waved his hand dismissively. "Oh no, that's not necessary. Really, it was very good." Nabiki thought. She'd learned never to underestimate the value of a good customer, and nice people tended to be best for business. "Well, tell you what, sir. How about I give you a twenty percent discount on your next meal?" "I see," he said. "How can I pass up an offer like that?" Nabiki produced a small pad and pen from her apron. "Let me just get your name so we'll be sure to remember." "Sugiyama," he said, giving the slightest of bows. "Tendou Nabiki, at your service," she said with a cocky twirl of her pen. "Okay, then Sugiyama-san, we've got you down for that discount. And it applies to any guests you bring in next time, too. Maybe a good idea for an office party, hmm?" She winked and gave him a thumbs-up. The gentleman laughed. "Maybe so, Tendou-san. Or perhaps I'll just bring my family." "Sounds good to me! We'll see you again soon, Sugiyama-san." She watched the tall man make his way out of the restaurant. she thought with satisfaction. She allowed herself to enjoy the moment before returning to the tasks before her. A customer had phoned in a fairly sizeable order in advance and would be by to pick up the food in about ten minutes. The Tendou girl took a deep breath and began to prepare the batter. Just as she was pouring the first okonomiyaki, she heard the sound of someone entering the restaurant. At the same moment, the phone began to ring. Her chest tightened a bit with anxiety - she could handle individual tasks around the restaurant just fine, but she tended to make mistakes when everything started happening at once. "I'll get it, Nabiki-san!" She sighed with relief. It was just Konatsu coming back from his break. "Thanks, Konatsu," she called without looking up from the griddle. "Well, it is nice to see you again, Tendou Nabiki," came a familiar, creaky voice. Nabiki looked up in surprise. Cologne sat on a stool directly across from her, wooden staff leaning up against the counter. It was creepy how that old woman could get so close to you without making any noise. "Uh... hi there," Nabiki greeted her warily. "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki," Konatsu said as he answered the phone. "No, I'm very sorry, we no longer do delivery. Yes, I understand. We had to stop in order to ensure the quality of our food. I apologize." Nabiki stiffened defensively as she kept her eyes on Cologne. She recalled her own puffed-up boasting about the imminent success of Ucchan's delivery business last time the old Amazon had come to visit. Was the ghoul going to take the opportunity to rub her nose in it now? She sucked her breath through clenched teeth. "However," Konatsu continued, "if you bring that delivery flier in to the restaurant, you can redeem it as a voucher for a free meal. Hmm? Yes, for your whole family. You will? Wonderful! Yes, I can give you directions. Where would you be coming from?" Cologne gave Nabiki a hard look as Konatsu continued talking. "So, this is your solution for your failure? Giving away food for free?" Nabiki crossed her arms and looked defiant. "It keeps them from being ticked off about the delivery thing. And it gets them to come here and eat." Cologne made a disparaging noise. "What good are customers who don't pay? You might as well throw your profits out the window!" "If they like the food, they'll come back," Nabiki shot back angrily. "If not, then there's nothing else we can do! What would YOU have done?" Cologne kept her gaze locked with Nabiki's for a long moment. Then, to Nabiki's surprise, the old woman broke into a broad smile. "Why, I would have done exactly the same thing. Not bad, Tendou Nabiki. Not bad at all." Nabiki stared at the Amazon for a moment, then began to laugh. "You... you had me going there, granny!" Cologne eyed the okonomiyaki sizzling on the grill. "Better flip that, girl." "Whoa! Damn!" She turned her attention back to cooking. Fortunately, the pancake hadn't begun to burn. "I'll be back in just a second, Nabiki-san!" Konatsu called. Nabiki spared a quick glance his direction, and noticed for the first time that he was carrying around a bulky cardboard box. She could hear the soft rustle of the contents shifting within as Konatsu carried it. "What's that?" she asked. Cologne answered instead of the ninja. "Oh, just a little present from me." "A present?" Nabiki asked curiously. "A personal matter between Konatsu and myself," Cologne said. "Nothing you need to concern yourself about, young lady." "I'll take over now, Nabiki-san," Konatsu said as he skipped back into the room. A few days rest had completely restored his energy and vitality, but Nabiki didn't intend to take any more chances with her cook's health. She insisted that he stick to a reasonable schedule now, and she made sure he took his breaks every day. That meant she had to fill in for him at the grill for brief periods of time, of course. She knew that she still wasn't much of a cook, and she'd probably never be in the same league as Konatsu, but she was competent enough to mind the store for half an hour during the slow times. Nabiki handed the spatula over with exaggerated ceremony. "The kitchen is yours, Konatsu." The pretty ninja giggled and gave her a deep, formal bow. "My thanks to you, Nabiki-san." Nabiki strolled around to the other side of the counter and began to clean up after the diners. Her duties around the shop involved answering the phone, taking orders, and tidying up. Early evenings on the weekdays were generally pretty slow, but she wanted to make sure everything was ready for the dinner crowd. Cologne watched her with interest. "You've become quite diligent, Tendou Nabiki. I wasn't sure you had it in you." Nabiki adjusted the ribbon which held her hair back and shrugged. The praise made her oddly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, it's not like this place is raking in the dough. I've been looking at the old books. This time last year the store was making a lot more than we are now, and it was just Ukyou running the place by herself." The ancient martial artist chuckled. "Yes, I'd say you're doing just fine." Nabiki didn't quite know what to make of that. "I guess I should apologize for being so rude to you last time. I should've figured you'd know what it took to run a restaurant. I just didn't think... uh..." "That a strange old country woman from China would really know anything about business?" she suggested. "Yeah, something like that." "It's a lot easier than some things," Cologne assured her. "Good food, good service, and a little luck are all that's really required." "What, no secret Amazon business techniques?" Nabiki joked. "Heh. No, I'm afraid not. Just a few old recipes. You don't see us brainwashing our customers with herbal shampoo in order to make them come back." "Now that's an idea," Nabiki mused. "Free hair treatment with every meal. And with a few subliminal suggestions... hmm, that has potential. Don't suppose you'd be willing to teach me how to use that stuff?" "I'm afraid not," Cologne said with a roll of her eyes. Nabiki shrugged and grinned. "Didn't think so. Oh well." "Well, I must be on my way, Tendou Nabiki." The old woman hopped onto the end of her staff. "I'm glad to see this place is doing better. You treat Konatsu with respect, dear." Cologne leaned close and dropped her voice. "He has quite a crush on you, my girl." "Hey!" Nabiki said indignantly. The Amazon matriarch cackled and bounded out of the restaurant. "Something wrong, Nabiki-san?" Konatsu asked. The ninja was looking at her with innocent, adoring eyes. He wore his heart on his sleeve - Nabiki had been aware of how he felt for some time now. She'd been scornful at first, but now she felt curiously flattered. she thought. She'd always hoped to find someone who could match her in intellect and deviousness, someone who would be a constant challenge. Her idea of the ideal relationship had always involved a tremendous ongoing power struggle - with herself emerging as the victor more often than not, of course. On the other hand, she had to admit that there might be some real advantages in someone like Konatsu. There would be no power struggle - Konatsu was far too meek and submissive to want to clash with her. But maybe it would be nice to have the support and devotion of someone with Konatsu's infinite capacity for loyalty. After all, a woman in the business world had enough challenges in her way without having to look for more in a partner. Certainly Konatsu would never try to hold her back with some sort of antiquated garbage about a woman's place being in the home. There was a real strength to him, in spite of his unassuming nature. It might be awfully nice to be able to rely on that strength for support when times got tough... Nabiki brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. What was she thinking? Could she have seriously been considering going out with Konatsu, a cross-dressing martial-arts weirdo? "Nabiki-san?" Konatsu called again, his voice tinged with concern. "I'm fine, Konatsu," she assured him. He beamed at her happily and returned to his work. Nabiki shook her head slowly and chuckled to herself, polishing the surface of the table until she could see her reflection in its surface. - - - - - - "Ranchan? You ready?" "Just a sec." Ukyou stood back and watched curiously as Ranma knelt before the kindling. It was his turn to get the campfire going tonight, but he had yet to unpack the matches. Ukyou hoped he hurried up - she was eager to get on with her training this evening. His eyes were clenched shut, his brow furrowed in concentration. Ryouga sat opposite him, watching intently. Ranma took a deep breath, then slowly extended his right hand towards the dry wood and twigs. What confused Ukyou was that he was holding a pinecone in the other hand, cradled in his palm. Suddenly, Ranma opened his eyes and let out a low, powerful bark. His aura flared to life in an instant, so bright and hot that Ukyou had to squint and turn away. He plunged his right hand into the dry kindling, which burst into flame. The pinecone in his left hand also began to smolder and spark. "Whoah, Ranchan!" Ukyou exclaimed. "Starting a fire with your bare hand? Not bad." Ranma nodded and regarded the blaze. "Got the idea from him," he said, gesturing absently at Ryouga. "I ain't used to gettin' all fired up like that, but I figured I could swing it if I concentrated." "I don't see why you'd need to do that to fight the Reikoku," Ryouga observed. "I wouldn't," he agreed. "I dunno if I could sustain that kind of hot aura like you do even if I wanted. But here's something you can't do." Ranma tossed the smoking pinecone into the fire, then cupped his right hand and poured a small quantity of water into it from their drinking flask. He shifted his position a little bit, focused his concentration, and thrust his left hand into the crackling flames. Ukyou gasped in shock. "Ranchan!" The flames immediately vanished, as if snuffed out by a sudden burst of strong, cold wind. Ranma's hand wasn't even singed. He inspected the water in his right hand, which had frozen into a small chunk of ice. Ryouga stared in surprise, then a look of comprehension crossed his face. He snapped his fingers. "The Soul of Ice technique! I get it." "Yep," Ranma affirmed. "I remember," Ukyou said. "It's the same thing you do when you use that Hiryuu Shoten-ha thing. I'm impressed that you can go from hot to cold so quickly! That's really incredible control, Ranchan." "Control's what I'm tryin' to work on," he told her. "If I can get a better handle on controllin' my aura like that, I think I can do some really interestin' things." "Like what?" He shrugged. "Depends. We'll see how it goes." He concentrated again, then re-ignited the campfire with his right hand. "Okay, Ucchan. Time to get to work." In spite of the increased urgency of their pace, they'd still found time to continue with their training. When they were traveling by boat or train, they made a point of coming up with drills and exercises that they could practice within the limited confines of whatever vehicle they were using at the time. So long as they managed to keep a decent lead on the Reikoku, they could afford to spend a few hours each day on serious sparring and special training. Ukyou found herself constantly amazed by the spars between Ranma and Ryouga. With Ryouga's speed improving from the Amaguriken training, he was really starting to push Ranma every time they fought. Both of them were experimenting with new fighting styles, trying to break their old patterns and come up with new ways to attack and defend. When they fought, they barely held back, laying into each other with a reckless savagery that seemed truly dangerous. But they knew what they were doing, and they never got hurt. Part of Ukyou was glad that they didn't train as hard with her, but mostly she found it frustrating. Still, it wasn't like they neglected her training. Ranma focused on improving her barehanded fighting technique (which needed a lot of work), while Ryouga helped her increase her strength and power. Ukyou still hoped that they'd find Happosai, and that they'd never have to put their training to the test against that monster again. But it would be crazy to not prepare for the worst. In the meantime, Ranma still had her doing the spatula-throwing regimen. Ukyou had stopped trying to guess what the ultimate purpose behind this was, especially since Ranma was otherwise so adamant about teaching her to fight without her weapons. She'd always considered herself skilled with her throwing spatulas, but the extent to which she'd improved over the past couple of weeks astonished her. Even the blindfold didn't hurt her accuracy anymore. "We're goin' all out tonight," Ranma warned her as he jogged into position across the clearing, a bulging sack of pinecones rustling in his hand. "Think you can keep up with me, Ucchan?" Ukyou tightened her blindfold and adopted a ready stance. "Let's go!" Ranma was true to his word - he began to cast the pinecones into the air at a blistering pace, faster than he'd ever gone before. Ryouga tossed the throwing spatulas to her at an equally frantic rate, orbiting her in an erratic semicircle to force her to compensate for the trajectory of each incoming weapon. Ukyou managed to pluck six of the spatulas out of the air and throw them before she lost the rhythm, and the gleaming weapons clattered to the ground. "I told you, we're goin' all out," Ranma called to her. "You can do it, Ukyou-san," Ryouga encouraged her as he recovered the throwing spatulas. "Let your body focus on the task. Don't think about it, just do it." "Don't think about it," she repeated. She took a deep breath and readied herself again. "Your body knows what to do," Ryouga assured her. "Are you ready?" She nodded, and cleared her mind. The dance began again, and lasted almost twice as long before she faltered. The third time, she managed to catch all her spatulas and hit her targets, but was shocked when a spatula came hurtling from Ranma's direction. She barely managed to catch it. "Ranchan?" she called. "What're you doing?" "You're too used to stoppin' when we're outta spatulas," he instructed. "Once you finish throwin' 'em all, me and Ryouga are gonna switch off. He'll throw your targets, I'll throw your weapons." "We're going to switch back and forth at random," Ryouga informed her. "Don't try to predict it. Just let your hands react. Trust yourself, Ukyou-san." "Here we go!" Ranma shouted, not waiting for her to prepare. And so it went, back and forth and back again, her spatulas whistling through the air from every directions. She struggled to keep up with the frenzied pace that the two martial artists were setting, catching and throwing, catching and throwing. Sweat poured down her face, her heart thundered in her chest, yet still the spatulas kept flying, and she did not let them drop. Each pinecone that Ryouga or Ranma cast into the air landed in two pieces by the time it hit the ground. She blocked out her fatigue - she could feel the weariness in her shoulders and fire in her lungs, but the pain was far away and irrelevant. She knew only the sounds of her targets and h er weapons as they flew, the feel of the spatulas in her hands as she held them for a brief instant before launching with deadly precision. The dance of steel and motion held her in its grasp, carried her along in its frantic rhythm until she forgot all pain, all time, all thought. Then something shrieked through the night, and Ukyou swooned in sudden, inexplicable disorientation. "What was that?" she gasped. "Ryouga? Ranchan?" She clawed at her blindfold and tore it away from her face, staring frantically about and trying to understand what had just transpired. Ryouga was standing off to her left, one of her throwing spatulas attached to a long string in his hand. Ranma stood in front of her, watching the embers of a demolished pinecone drift lazily to the ground. Both of them were grinning at her. "What? Guys...?" Ukyou stared at the remains of the pinecone. "What happened?" "You did it," Ryouga said. His voice was full of pride. "You really did it!" "What?" she demanded. "What did I do?" "On that last throw," Ranma explained, "Ryouga pulled back your spatula at the last instant. You didn't have a weapon. So your body reacted, and you made one of your own." He gestured at the remains of the pinecone. Understanding slowly crept its way in, but she could scarcely believe it. "It was... I did a ki-blast? Without realizing it?" Ranma nodded. "You bet, Ucchan." "It was shaped like a spatula," Ryouga revealed. "It was?" Ukyou blinked and stared at the results of her handiwork. "Y'see," Ranma explained energetically, "I figured you could do somethin' like the attacks that me and Ryouga do, but I had to think of how to draw it out. I mean, Ryouga gets his off 'heavy ki' - you know depression and anger and stuff - while I get mine outta confidence." "Ego, you mean," Ryouga interrupted. Ranma ignored him. "But I didn't think you could do it the same way. So the only thing I could think of was how focused you get when you're really into your cookin'. I thought maybe if we could get you into that state, really deep into the zone, we could concentrate it in one single, powerful strike..." He trailed off, then shrugged. "Guess it worked." "But Ranchan," she said, spreading her hands pleadingly, "I don't remember how I did it!" "Right," he said. "Now, the real proof is if you can do it again." He held a pinecone up between his thumb and forefinger. Ukyou fumbled for her blindfold, but Ryouga stopped her. "No, not this time," he said. "You did it once, it should come more naturally this time." "But I don't..." she began. He cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Just relax and concentrate. You'll remember." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "No," Ryouga told her. "Don't close your eyes. You don't want to have to close your eyes every time you do this, do you?" "I guess not," she said with a sigh. "Okay, eyes open. Focus." At first, Ukyou felt like a complete fool, standing there staring at the pinecone and trying to remember how to do something she'd managed by complete accident. She was tired and sweaty, she wanted to sit down and cool off. But gradually, as she stared at the pinecone in the dwindling light, she forgot her weariness once more. She reached back for the state of mind she'd achieved during the exercise, a feeling that surged like a raging fire yet was as serene as a cool mountain lake. She remembered the sounds of the spatulas in the air, the feeling of her body moving by reflex to catch her weapons, the absolute certainty of where her targets were as she made each throw... Her hand lashed out, almost on its own, and a blinding streak of green split the night. The pinecone in Ranma's hand disintegrated in a burst of energy. The ki-spatula streaked into the canopy of trees, shearing through leaves and branches in its path. Ukyou barely kept herself from fainting. Ryouga caught her before she toppled to the ground. "Yes! Yes! She did it! I did it!" Ranma shouted triumphantly. "I AM a good trainer! I can teach martial arts!" Ukyou thought through her haze of fatigue. She shook her head in denial and tried not to let it get to her, but she felt so weak, so tired... "Feh," Ryouga grumbled. "As if he did it all by himself. Are you okay, Ukyou-san? You're pale." She nodded and patted him on the shoulder. she told herself. She forced a smile. "I'm okay, sugar. Just kinda... worn out, you know?" He nodded. "You've worked hard today. That kind of technique takes a lot of energy out of you. The more you practice, the easier it'll get." "Hey Ucchan!" Ranma said as he trotted up to meet them. "That was awesome, huh? Listen, I'll handle dinner tonight. You just rest up, okay?" she thought. - - - - - - Akane plowed into the swinging boulder with bone-jarring force. Her finger cracked the stone where it hit, but the rock still didn't explode. She'd known it wouldn't - she still couldn't see the breaking point at all, in her "mind's eye" or otherwise. "Again!" she called out. "Akane! A third time? Are you sure?" Dr. Tofu yelled back up to her. "Yes! Again!" Dr. Tofu shrugged and nodded to the others. While he hauled on the rope to bring Akane and her harness back to its starting position, Saotome Genma, Natsume, and Kurumi worked the lines to bring the boulder back into place. In a minute or so, the apparatus was ready. Akane could feel the lingering shock from the previous two collisions with the boulder, but she didn't care. She glared at the stone with pure, unmitigated hatred. She yanked the release cord and howled in rage as she slammed into the boulder once more. Even after the initial impact, she kept driving her finger into the surface of the stone over and over, snarling in frustration and wrath. "Break!" she shouted at the rock. "Break! Break! What's the matter with you!" "Akane?" Dr. Tofu sounded concerned. "This... is INSANE!" she screamed. She didn't wait for the boulder and the harness to stop swinging - she tore herself free of the ropes and dropped to the ground with a thud. "It's NEVER going to work!" she ranted, stomping up and down and flailing her fists. "It's ludicrous! How can anyone believe that there's a special place on a rock you can touch to make it blow up? It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! There is NO SUCH THING as a breaking point!" "Akane," Dr. Tofu said gently, wary of her anger. "You said you've seen Ryouga do this dozens of times. Of course there's such a thing..." "I KNOW!" she wailed. Tears of impotent rage trickled unbidden down her flushed cheeks. "I... I have seen it! But it doesn't make any sense! I mean... I mean..." Akane choked on her own words. "It's okay, slow down," Dr. Tofu soothed. "What do you mean?" She took a few deep breaths and tried to muster some degree of composure. "Look," she said, her lips trembling, "How can there be a magical breaking point? I mean... wouldn't people hit it just by accident every so often? Just by random chance? But rocks never explode like that. And Ryouga... I've seen him do it, but sometimes he misses what he was aiming for. And the thing he hits STILL explodes! How can he hit a breaking point that he's not even aiming for?" She held her palms out in a pleading gesture. "I don't understand!" Dr. Tofu bowed his head and nodded slightly. "You're right, Akane." "I... I am? I know I am! But what does..." "Let me explain," he interrupted. "I've observed your training and done some research on the bakusai ten-ketsu technique. I think I understand how it works. Please, all of you, sit down." Akane did as she was told, and the others arranged themselves in a small circle facing Dr. Tofu. The bespectacled martial artist took a moment to compose his thoughts before he began to speak again. "Just as every person has an aura," he explained, "so too does every object or substance that exists. It's crucial to understand that if you wish to know how the bakusai ten-ketsu works. Not just anyone can hit the breaking point - at random, as you suggested, Akane. This is true in part because it isn't really a specific point in space, as you're thinking of it, but also because a person needs to be prepared to execute this technique." He picked up a small stone and held it in front of him. "A person who undergoes this training becomes stronger against impacts, yes? It's not just because you're being hit so often. It's because that, as you search for the breaking point, your mind unconsciously adapts your aura to be more like the stone. You literally become more rock-like, and thus more resistant to damage." "I see," Natsume said. "So it really is a technique of the Earth element." "You can look at it that way, yes," Dr. Tofu agreed. "A certain level of strength and endurance is required to achieve this harmony with the stone. Now, once a person reaches that level, once they bring their battle aura in synchronization with the natural aura of the stone, they can use their will to change that aura. In other words, the person commands the boulder to destroy itself, by achieving a precise harmony with the stone. That is the true nature of the breaking point." Akane's eyes were wide. "I get it! I understand that!" "This is why the breaking point cannot be used against a live target, even if you were to try it on a brittle surface like bone or horn. The aura of a living creature is infinitely more complex than that of an inanimate object. To synchronize so thoroughly with another living being so that you could command it to destroy itself..." Tofu shrugged. "Not possible. You might as well try to drink the ocean." "Still," Natsume interjected, "the technique wouldn't be limited to just breaking rocks, would it?" "That is correct," the doctor agreed. "Akane, you've seen some of Elder Cologne's battle techniques, haven't you? Many involve manipulating the environment around her, is that right?" "Yes!" Akane affirmed. "I've seen her do sand whirlwinds and water spouts... and that thing she called the 'Shark Fist.' It was like a battering ram of water..." "I believe all these techniques you've seen are outgrowths of the principle behind the bakusai ten-ketsu," Tofu said. "Obviously, Elder Cologne is a master of harmonizing with her environment and making it work for her. The breaking point may be crude in comparison to some of the things she can do, but I believe it is the first step into a much wider realm of mastery." Akane felt dizzy with excitement. If she could master this technique, it would open whole new worlds of martial arts to her... worlds that even Ranma had never explored. "But... but why don't they just explain that? Why act like the breaking point is some special spot or something..." Dr. Tofu tossed the stone in his hand. "The act of harmonizing your aura in this way is a tremendous feat of concentration. The conscious mind is far too limited to achieve it. Only the unconscious spirit can accomplish such a feat. The training that Cologne used with Ryouga was designed to give him something to concentrate upon, so he could guide his unconscious mind to the right path. That is why I haven't explained this until now." "I see," Akane said. "But," he continued, "I think that the training which worked so well for Ryouga is hindering you. It's created a mental block which is preventing you from finding the breaking point." He pushed his glasses back on his nose and looked concerned. "I'm certain that the Amazons have many different ways to guide students to learning the breaking point, but I don't know those teaching methods. So I have no choice but to educate you in what I understand... and hope for the best. I fear that telling you all this may undermine your training, but there seems to be no other choice." Akane scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding. "You did the right thing, Dr. Tofu!" she cried as she climbed back up the tree. "I want to try it again!" "As you wish, Akane," Dr. Tofu said as the group below began to reset the apparatus once more. she told herself. She yanked on the rope and felt the familiar rush as she began her swing. The boulder dropped simultaneously, hurtling into its wrecking-ball arc towards her, its pocked face growing larger by the instant. The branches groaned in protest under the weight of it. Akane howled and drove her finger out before her to meet the stone. A loud crack erupted through the forest. For the first time since she'd climbed into this harness, Akane completed the arc of her swing. She sailed between the two halves of the broken boulder as they dropped away towards the ground. "She did it!" Kurumi exclaimed. "No," her sister corrected. "Not yet." Akane vaulted out of the harness and landed on the ground. The two halves of the boulder lay on the grass, rocking slowly as with the remaining inertia from their fall. She couldn't take her eyes off them. This rock - this thing she'd learned to hate so fiercely, this vision that had haunted her days and nights for over two months now - lay broken before her. she thought to the boulder. "I think I hit that old boulder one too many times," she told Kurumi. "That wasn't the breaking point?" the small girl asked. "No," Akane said. As satisfying as it was to have finally broken through that damnable boulder, she still had work to do. "I guess we need to find another rock." She turned and faced the others, her dark eyes burning with determination. "I'm close. I can feel it. I'm almost there." - - - - - - end of chapter eight ----------------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR'S NOTES ----------------------------------------------------------- My thanks to my wife, Candi, for helping me come up with Kiini's fractured koans in this chapter. I tried a few different versions of that scene involving the schtick he did in the anime, but they all seemed terrifyingly dull. Much more fun to make him more of a Buddhist monk, with a bit of a concussion, of course. Points for you if you guessed that Kurumi has played "Parrapa the Rapper." COMING SOON: Akane puts her training to the test, and we finally understand the true terror of the fiendish plot of Pantyhose Tarou... REVISION NOTES: Very minor stuff. COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko, and are licensed in America by Viz Communications. GRT - April 1999 MODIFIED - April 2005 thunderstruck_comic@comcast.net All existing chapters of this story may be found at: http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless