Most of the characters within the story are from the Anime Series, Ranma 1/2 and are property of Rumiko Takahashi, and whoever else may own the rights. I write this without permission and do so with no attempt to profit off of the marvelous works. Rather, I do so for everyone's benefit. Please enjoy and tell me what you think. Lifted by the warm greeting and the happy faces, Kimiko enters into a seemingly pleasant world. As the sky grows dark with the jealousy and rage of the mad, the surface of her newly discovered plane will be permanently shattered by those seeking her demise. Time will only tell if fate allows her salvation from the darkness, or the bitterness of eternity to be caught in its web of lies, deceit and worst of all, love. Warning: This fanfiction has adult themes and situations that may be offensive to some parties. Viewer discretion is advised. ********************************************** *A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction: Misery Loves Company* ********************************************** Chapter Three of In Search of the South Star by Ryan Erik Part Two: Haunted Pasts Glancing across the surface of the blue river, the coin shaped rock skipped nearly thirty feet before plunging into the water. Another followed, though it only stretched half the distance before it sank to the riverbed. Another, the size of his open palm, was raised to meet a similar fate as its brethren, but instead was tossed to the side. The hand that had thrown the rocks fell to the side of its owner, firmly placed on the dirt. He sighed, watching as the sun began its slow but steady ascent on its way towards the zenith, but it still had nearly six hours until then. The sky was empty at the moment, not even the slightest swirl of white water vapor tainting it. He closed his eyes for a moment as a bell sounded out across the water, striking seven times. He wondered if it had been that long since he sat down upon the riverbank. It seemed as though only a moment had past, yet he had been throwing stones for nearly an hour. He did more than toss rocks across the rippling water; he used this time to think. His bare arms tingled from the cold as did his wet feet, but he ignored the discomfort for it was hardly comparable to the pain he felt inside, the emotional strife that fed his depression. His eyes blinked open and he turned to see his younger brother walking down the incline of the hill towards him. Turning again, he stoically faced the water, a tinge of anger burning within him. It was not for his brother, but he often directed it at him. "What do you want, Shin-kun?" He found another stone and cast it skidding across the water. "I told you not to follow me." He had no need to see his brother to know that he was scared. "What's the matter?" Shintaro sat to his right but he did not turn to face him. He could feel his little brother's eyes weighing him, judging him, just like everyone else. "Poppa wants you to come home and get ready to go." He caught himself from snorting in disgust; after all, it was not his brother's fault. "Was he mad?" "No," Shintaro whispered, as if surprised by it himself. "He was excited, though, and told me to find you and tell you that we're leaving at nine instead of eleven." His brother paused tentatively, and continued, "I wouldn't have come out here if he didn't say so, I swear!" He sighed again, looking at the water and watching Shintaro's stone skip nearly twice as far as his best had. He gritted his teeth, gripping his knees to his chest. He hated to lose at anything, no matter how insignificant. "Don't worry about it." His voice sounded brittle to his own ears so he added, "I'm not mad at you." Rubbing his chilled arms, he bit back his anger, trying to calm himself with a deep breath. He could never fully extinguish it, though. It always seemed to build, layer upon layer, until he could no longer stand anyone's presence. He knew that he had the right to be indignant, or at least he hoped he did. "Okay," Shintaro replied cheerfully, standing. "Don't be mad but dad said that if you don't come this time..." "I know," he interrupted. "I won't make him mad like that again. I promise, I won't miss any more." The last time that his parents were getting together with their friends, he had refused to go. His father was incredibly angry and his anger had vented on Shintaro too. He might not have liked his little brother much, but he certainly did not want him to be punished when he, himself, made the mistake. "Thanks," his brother replied solemnly. "I'll go now." "You can stay," he offered, turning to the boy whose hair was a mess as he squirmed with discomfort underneath his thick clothes. "Nah, I gotta get ready," his brother said to him, a little less than convincing. "I'll see ya around though." "Sure," he muttered, facing straight ahead once more. "Whatever." His brother scurried away as if he forced the boy to stay there against his will. He clenched his teeth again, feeling truly alone. * * * Warm water gushed from the gleaming metal faucet, slowly filling large bathtub. Kimiko submerged her right hand into the flowing stream of water, testing the temperature. She withdrew it slowly, watching large drops of water slide down her hand and fall back into the tub. Quickly shaking her wrist over the water, she stood and walked over to the shower. The icy water hit her full on, but she clenched her teeth and forced herself to submerge in it. Shivering, she picked up the bar of soap and started scrubbing, eager to be in the warmth of the tub. Twisting the knob, she shivered uncomfortably as the spray of ice water withered and died. Walking over to the tub, she stepped in and lowered herself in. The waves of warmth were pure pleasure, and she sighed with relief. Closing her eyes wearily, she began to relax in the hot water. Her dreams had been particularly rough the last night, and she wondered if she would have been better off skipping sleep all together. Mental exhaustion was almost as bad and sometimes worse than physical exhaustion. Sinking lower till the water covered her ears, Kimiko yawned. Relaxing, she slid until her head submerged underneath the gentle waves of the bath. She opened her mouth, spilling the oxygen from her lungs, watching them rise and bubble to the surface. Under the clear bath water, it seemed almost serene and strangely haunting. The light from the window shown down upon her, but its image was less vibrant, its color filtered. Reality there was different, even though it was no more than a foot of distance away. The light steadily grew in intensity until she was forced to close her eyes and puncture the peace she felt below the water's surface. Her lids opened momentarily and she reeled back in surprise, striking her head on the bottom of the tub. "It is good to see you again, Kimiko," the pleasant voice greeted from above the water's surface. Too stunned to reply, she only stared in silence as the spirit continued. "You do not seem so happy to see me." The wet, torn silks worn by the specter across from Kimiko barely covered her entire figure. Her messy, long black hair dangled past her ear, brushing the surface of the water, and her dazzling green eyes shined with unnatural light. Her pallid skin almost took a bluish tinge upon closer examination, but not dark enough to casually notice. A white aura glowed faintly around the ghost, and she smiled placidly. Goose bumps rose on Kimiko's skin as she beheld the specter hovering over her. After a few more moments of silence passed, Kimiko instinctively took a breath of the water, and her lungs mysteriously filled with air. She paid little attention and spoke anyway. "I didn't think you were real." Her voice carried to its receiver, still sounding doubtful of the ghost's existence. The drip of the faucet echoed across the bathroom, and faint morning light illuminated the room, but no noise intruded upon their conversation. It was as if time stood still for them to talk. "I am real enough," Lilly replied solemnly, staring back serenely. "I'm much more than a figment of your imagination." Breathing heavily, Kimiko only nodded in reply. Her heart thumped so loud that she could swear that the people outside could hear her. "How do I know that you're real?" she asked, reaching her hand out to the spirit. Reaching across, the specter put her warm hand against Kimiko's and whispered, "Would you rather believe that you are crazy, or that you are perfectly fine and that you have a guardian spirit?" Retreating her hand to her side, Kimiko replied, "The second one." "Good, love," the ghost whispered, smiling eerily. "I have just come to warn you, nothing more, nothing less." Her brilliant green eyes shimmered brightly, and she turned towards the entrance of the bathroom. "I have very little time, so listen carefully. You will be challenged three times, by three different forces, each whom have a quarrel with you. Whether imagined or real, it does not matter. Treat them as real threats, or your life may end in this place you call home. Do you understand?" "Who is-" Kimiko began, but Lilly interjected. "Do you understand?" Silently, Kimiko nodded. "Good, very good," she replied. "I must go now, so remember to never let your guard down, for a friend or even a family member." The sound of the door to the inner bath opening filtered through the water, and Lily instantly vanished, revealing the interior ceiling. Kimiko drew in a startled breath, but only sucked in water. She instantly sat, sputtering water and coughing violently. She was only vaguely aware of Mayako entering the room. "Are you all right?" the girl asked, walking to her side. "Swallow some bath water?" She smiled warmly then walked over to the shower, turning it on. "I'm okay," Kimiko replied, straightening herself. She coughed once more, clearing her throat. Lily words burned in her mind, her last message before Mayako's entry more so than the rest. Why would she say such a thing, she wondered sadly. Here she was, returned to this place after nearly twenty years and she was not supposed to let her guard down. Could Mayako be the one of the three Lily warned her about? She wondered distastefully, but that was unlikely. Could she even trust the advice itself, or even its source? Kimiko turned in time to see Mayako stick her tongue out at her. She smiled. Mayako was trustworthy enough. Before Kimiko could return her attention to soaking, the shower turned off. Mayako walked over, putting one foot in the tub. "Oh, it feels good." Kimiko nodded. "So, what are your plans for today?" * * * With his eyes intently planted on the back of his father's head, he silently followed his family as they wended their way to the Tendou household, the last place he wanted to be. The many memories of that place resurfaced, each burning as harshly in his mind as the ice cold wind burned the exposed flesh of his arms. From the moment he started martial arts there with the other students, to the day he stopped taking lessons at the dojo, not one of them was friendly to him, all jealous of his ability no doubt. He had been an apt student, and Aunt Akane, the Onos and the two masters of the school trained him more than the others. Many probably figured it was because his father was one of the masters, but he knew otherwise. He was to be the heir of the Saotome style of Anything Goes Martial Arts, and his teachers, especially his father, wanted him to strive harder than the rest, harder than anyone had before him against some unknown standard. Not a single waking moment had been his alone, and every sleeping hour was spent resting from some horribly exhausting and painful training exercise. Somewhere he had heard the phrase, "That which does not kill you will only make you stronger." He guessed that held true, but he pondered what the cost of living by such a standard was, for that was exactly what his father exacted upon him. Was he, then, the result of such a lifestyle? If so, he advised against even considering such a course of action, for he knew that his father royally fucked him up. He knew over fourteen styles and variations of martial arts, he acquired six different black belts which included a fifth degree in the Anything Goes style, and yet he had absolutely no friends. Even his own brother feared him. He guessed that it was probably best left that way. He did not want friends. Friends held you back. Friends were nothing but liabilities in the face of the Art. Nothing but victory mattered, and that he knew, and that he had been taught. The problem with friends was that you were supposed to like them. How could he like someone he may have had to fight sometime in the near future? You simply cannot pull your punches for anyone. Never, ever pull punches. If you do, then you give them an edge, he reasoned to himself. The line between friends and enemies was too fine to discern for. His father's teachings drilled that into his mind. There was no time, no place for them either. Who needed them anyway? The answer: he did. He needed them more than he needed water. He needed someone to pour out his heart to, he needed someone to hang out with when it rained, and most of all he needed someone to back him up, be by his side, inspire him, and everything else a friend was supposed to do. Oh, but no, friends betray, friends stab you while your back is turned, and the hurt of the loss was too deep to risk. You cannot take chances like that. When no one's at your back, no one can stab it, no one can betray you. If there is no one, you have to worry about no one. Blanketing his eyes with this philosophy, he tried to live life normally, but when you hated everyone and everyone hated you, it was not easy. Oh, he had a friend once. He was fun to be with; he said they would be friends forever. Then he left. He left without saying good- bye, and that hurt worse than anything father ever did to him. That hurt worse than the rocks, that hurt worse than the fire, and those hurt a lot, especially the fire. He hated fire. Fire hurts, burns and scars. But no one would listen to him, not him, the boy who no one liked, the troublemaker, and the misfit. No one liked him and no one cared if he lived or died. So then, why should he care if they lived either? His gaze then trained on the back of his mother's head. Where was she when he needed her? Where was she when he cried and cried, wailing for her to come to his rescue? Oh, where was she when the fire burned him, when the rocks slammed into his adolescent body? The answer: turning a blind eye. She ignored him, let his father do those things, oh, and she continued to let him. She wanted a manly son, a superior being, one who was more god than man. She wanted him to be the best, to win, never fail. No, never that. You can never fail. Failure was pain; failure was death. He hated her more than his father, almost as much as fire. She could have stopped it, but she did not. It was not abuse; it was training. Why should she stop his training? It was working, was it not? He excelled in the Arts. He had straight A's in school. Nothing and no one could stop him from any goal. Why should he complain? Why should she interject herself where she was not needed? Shivering with dormant rage and with the cold alike, he looked between his parents, his supposed caretakers, his would-be benefactors. They walked identically, not in unison, but in stature. His father walked with pride and happiness, in fact, he practically glowed with it. His mother strode down the walk gracefully, with that same pride, that same happiness, that same joy. Why should they, of all people, be happy? Were they not ashamed of what their eldest son had become, their creation, their Frankenstein monster? Those were the words that his father had used the day before, the week before, and the year before. He had said he was so ashamed to be cursed with such a son, such a disrespectful, uncouth youth. The power behind those words, though denied, stung deeply. "What is she like?" he overheard his mother say as she quietly spoke with his father. They may have thought no one could hear, but he was not just anyone. Years of intense meditation made his hearing more acute than even the visually impaired. "She's amazing," his father replied, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Soun said she fought with skill he had not seen in ages, and he would not exaggerate concerning such delicate matters." "And you think that she's his?" His mother's voice sounded hopeful and happy, though she normally took the most shocking news calmly, without any betrayal of emotion. "We do believe that she may be his daughter," his father answered, putting his arm over her shoulder to plant a kiss on her cheek. He almost skipped a step watching that event take place. Rarely did they ever show emotion for one another, and never in public. "God must have heard my prayers," she whispered in his father's ear. Their words circulated in his mind, repeating endlessly, trying to extract order from chaos. He hissed inaudibly, unable to decipher their conversation. They spoke of a woman, most likely a girl since she was someone's daughter that they knew. His father spoke of her skills, which he obviously knew to be in the realm of martial arts -- his father would not speak of this girl if it did not pertain to it. Though he knew the hatred he felt for his father was mutual, he wondered if the man would take on another student, one who might replace him as the heir to the Saotome School of Anything Goes. Never before had his heritage been challenged, since Shintaro was his only other competitor for the title, and he had absolutely no worries there. Shintaro completely lacked any ambition what so ever, and his natural ability was average at best. The man had no right to do this to him after all the torture he endured for the position. He truly wondered if this girl had the skills to stand up to him in real combat. A challenge would certainly fix his ever-sinking mood for the present. Not only from the fight, he would gain much pleasure by seeing his father's plans ruined, schemes against his eldest son, his only true prodigy. They were silent from that point on, and so he decided to study the boy who strode next to him. His brother looked like a version of himself at that age, though the boy's hair was slightly longer than his. There was no need for long hair. It simply got in the way when you needed to see, and became a disadvantage if an enemy were to latch onto it. "Mother?" Shintaro asked as the boy glanced over at him. "Yes, son?" His mother's voice still radiated the joy it had earlier. "Can I stand between you and father?" His brother's voice sounded weak, fearful, and it almost came out as a squeak. "Sure you can," she replied, moving over to the side. His father turned for an instant, and they locked stares before he turned to his younger son and patted him on the head. He almost roared with laughter after that. His brother was just scared standing next to him. Oh, the irony. * * * A deep rumble of thunder resounded across the valley's walls as a cold north wind wailed. Black clouds gathered overhead, flashing with streaks of lightning. Hard leather boots trampled over the ground, uncaring of their path, or their destination. As people ran for shelter, one man continued with melancholy determination, tearing his way through anything and anyone who stood in his path. His cold, lifeless eyes stared towards the horizon, ever watching and waiting for something. What, he did not know, but he did know that something was out there, and he needed to find it, before it found him. Another flash of lightning lit the sky, but he ignored it, stomping ever forward towards his imaginary destination. One day he would find it, and on that day he would stop his meaningless search. On that day his life would be filled again. Morning light should have shown down upon him, but in the ever- changing world, only coldness and water would fall upon his tired, dusty brow. Traveling, in the old days, was unintentional, but now it was his only release. The maddening call for blood did not burden him here, in this ancient, vast land. He never stopped to ask questions, but rather, he just existed, to be here one moment, and there the next. To settle down, he would have to stand up to his demons, which he could no longer even name. The memory of them had escaped his mind long, long ago -- a second to God was an eternity for man. The rain began then, first as a light shower, then as the storm he knew it would amount to, winds roaring, lightning crashing and rain pouring. It amounted to little, in the grand face of things, and it mattered not to him in the slightest anyway. If he could defeat the greatest martial artists in the world, what then, was a little storm that could hardly be considered anything compared to him? In the next moment, his heart skipped a beat and he spun on his heels, prepared for an attack, and yet, the streets as far as he could see were empty. He almost turned to continue his journey, but the nagging feeling he experienced made him dodge hard to his left. Where he had stood, a large fist ripped through the space. There was absolutely no time to size up his opponent, for it attacked him again. The speed his attacker utilized was admirable, but fell short of being effective in comparison with his sheer skill. Blocking the figure's attacks proved less effective, though, as he realized its strength. A flash of light revealed his attacker, and his eyes narrowed in anger. He should have known this particular bastard would not give up after one fight. "What's wrong, maggot?" he taunted as his fist connected with his opponent's face. "I already gave you my answer, even though you lost in the first place." He followed that with a nasty combination of punches, but his target vanished, reappearing above him. He rolled to the side, frantically avoiding the aerial attack. "I don't believe you," a cynical voice replied, though it was more of a feral growl than speech. "Stop hiding him!" Flipping to the side, he narrowly dodged his opponent's following attack. "What do you think-" he began, tearing through thin air as his opponent became airborne again. "-could possibly motivate me to hide the old demon?" He ducked under the swoop as another flash of electricity illuminated his opponent's enraged form. "He could be dead for all I know." "You're lying!" it roared back, attacking viciously. "I don't know what you did with him, but you'll tell me now!" He dodged its assault and landed a nasty kick on its left leg, crippling it. Its cry of pain reverberated throughout the village. He doubted if any of the villagers would investigate the noise, but rather dismiss it as the howling of the spirits. "I'll tell you one more time," he yelled, straining to be heard through the fierce wind. "I don't know where the hell he is, and I haven't seen him for over fifteen years!" He could hear its strangled panting and knew he already won the fight. Yet, it continued its resistance. "You lie." It's voice sounded no more than a hoarse whisper, but he knew that it would never admit defeat. "Farewell," he laughed back at it. "We'll probably meet again." Its reply was cut off by the storm. * * * Pushing her right hand through the sleeve of her gray silk blouse, Kimiko watched Mayako rush out the bathroom door. Her swift bath showed her eagerness to leave, but Kimiko had little idea why that could be. She almost felt like a leper, the way her friend quickly left her presence, but she could not be the reason. Shaking her head as she rolled the cuffs of her long sleeves, she continued dressing without thought. Having become so used to them, she quickly slipped into the knee-length, navy blue skirt. Girls here, or at least those she had seen so far, seemed partial to skirts now, even in the United States. Only when it was required did they ever wear pants, but in Mayako and her case, whenever they could not wear skirts, they would wear pants, which was almost always. Tomboys, she silently jeered, shaking her head. It was not such a big deal, now that she thought about it. Unfortunately, the fact that it did not bother her anymore scared her some, too. Acceptance did not require pleasure. So far, it had not come to that, but she feared it was not far off from now. The last thing she wanted was to lose her original identity, she thought, almost laughing at the irony of the word original. Ranma might be subdued, but she had yet to completely give up on him. Out there, somewhere, a cure surely existed. Finding it was the main problem, and finding it in time further complicated the matter. But now, she needed to concentrate on other matters, or more precisely, the Tendous and Saotomes. If she revealed her identity, there was no telling what could happen. Would they accept her, or would they cast her out? Acceptance seemed highly unlikely since she disappeared without word nearly twenty years ago. She had to admit that it did look pretty bad on her part. Kiyoshi would back her story of course, and if she revealed a few facts that only she could possibly know, they might believe her, especially considering her current physical condition, young. Only then another problem would arise. She almost would surely scare off her new friends. That, combined with not being able to marry Akane, or even having any other type of relationship with the older woman, made it seem like a very poor choice. To be Ranma, or not to be Ranma, that was the question. She buttoned the blouse to the top and tucked it into her skirt. Kiyoshi would be taking her out of this place soon, and she figured it could not hurt if she wore her mask a little longer. At least this way, she still had friends who did not consider her a freak of nature, and she could still see Akane without bringing the past slamming into her present. Sometimes, the past was best left in the past, and that sometime was probably now. Too bad it hurt so much. Looking into the mirror, she straightened her crimson hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and tying it with a small red ribbon. Sighing lightly, she pushed her belongings from the sink's counter and into a large duffel bag she had brought from her room. She paused a moment, then carried it into the outer bath, leaving it in a corner. Noise from the living room echoed into the bathroom, and she curiously walked out to investigate. Silently, she crossed the hall and walked through the house until she stopped at the stairs. The door was ajar and she heard noise outside, but left up the stairs, hesitant about prying into anyone's business. She was about to knock on the door to Mayako's room when it opened, revealing Mayako. "Hey," she greeted, walking towards the stairs as Kimiko moved aside. "Come on and I'll introduce you." Kimiko stood there for a moment, pondering Mayako's words when the girl turned and grabbed her hand. "They won't bite!" "Who-?" Kimiko blurted as her friend pulled her, dashing towards the stairs. "You'll see!" Mayako replied, literally jumping down the last section of the stairs. Kimiko had an instant to react, but she managed to land safely without crashing into Mayako. The girl's abrupt halt had a reason, and he stood in front of them, larger than life. The fact that he looked exactly the same struck Kimiko as very odd, considering he was probably forty-five years old now. His benevolent smile reached his eyes through even through the thick-rimmed frames she remembered him wearing. He still wore his light brown hair in a small ponytail though lightly brushed with gray, and even his attire was relatively similar to the outfits he wore back when. One of his hands was on Mayako's shoulder, the other casually placed behind his back. "You should really be careful on stairs, Maya-chan," he gently scolded, smiling broader. "Especially when you're dragging friends behind you." Giggling, Mayako leaned closer and hugged Dr. Tofu, whispering, "It's nice to see you too, Uncle Tofu." Kimiko gulped, inching back from the two. She silently scolded herself for the fear. Why should she fear Dr. Tofu? The man certainly could not be one of the three Lily warned her about, and he would definitely not cause her harm. She struck the last from her list; he could identify her. "It's been a while since you've visited me at the clinic, so you must be well," he told her, patting Mayako's back. "I'm fine," she replied, pulling out of the hug. She then turned to Kimiko. "Kimiko, this is my dear Uncle, Tofu Ono. Uncle, this is Kimiko Nishiyama." He bowed forty-five degrees, and she bowed lower, nearly gritting her teeth. "It's nice to meet you, Nishiyama-san," he greeted, which she returned. When he blinked, and readjusted his frames on his face, she weakly smiled. "My, you look awfully familiar. Have I met either of your parents?" Oh yes, she thought dryly, and you've met me before too. "You may have, Ono-san." Oh, the lies and half-truths, and how simple they flowed from her mouth. He peered at her quizzically for a moment, but then fell into his happy, careless demeanor again. The answer must have satisfied him, for he bid them farewell and walked into the living room. Sighing with relief, she watched his back until he disappeared from sight. "Let me introduce you to the rest of the Onos," Mayako proposed, taking Kimiko's right hand. The honest joy radiating from the girl even made the redhead smile, but as they pushed through the front door, Kimiko inhaled sharply. Shaking her head with a light chuckle, Akane stood on the brick walk happily talking with Shampoo. Akane's long black hair had been bound with a thin cotton string, swaying with the movement of her head. Her casual smile filled Kimiko with warmth, and her eyes reflected the morning sun's light. The end of her soft yellow dress ruffled with the chill wind, but she showed no signs of discomfort, though the matching jacket she wore was thin enough to see through. Across from Akane, Shampoo stood with her arms crossed, smiling warmly. Her beautiful purple hair was curled in a bun while her long side burns splashed each side of her head. She wore a thick, red sweater and a long, black skirt that reached past her ankles. She nodded slowly, replying to something Akane had said. Mayako reached the pair of women in the next moment with Kimiko in tow, and waited until the two turned to face them, rather than rudely interjecting herself. Their gaze was enough to make Kimiko gulp with anxiety. "Auntie Shampoo," Mayako said, addressing the violet haired woman with respectful tones. "I would like you to meet Kimiko Nishiyama." Shampoo's benevolent eyes adjusted themselves upon the redhead, widening slightly, her lips curling into a thoughtful frown. There was less than a moment's pause before Kimiko bowed, whispering her greeting. "It's nice to meet you, Nishiyama-san," the woman replied with a slight bow. "I am Shampoo Ono." Her voice had matured as well as her manners since their last meeting, but that was entirely unavoidable considering the amount of time spent in between now and then. The adult's attention immediately returned to their conversation, which they carried with them into the house. Reiko and two others, hidden in the shadows of gate, conversed with openly argumentative tones. "I'm not always late!" a male voice protested. "Yes you are, baka!" Mai insisted, loud enough for Kimiko to recognize the voice. "If Mother and Father hadn't woken you, you'd still be in bed!" "So?" Ryosei Ono, Mai's brother, hissed, putting his hands behind his head. "I happen to enjoy my vacations, thank you very much." His next step fell short of its place, nearly causing him to trip over himself. He regained his composure, peering at Kimiko. "Hello, Ryosei," Mayako coolly greeted, sinuously approaching him. "Looking as unattractive as ever, I see." Her insult was off base, for he actually was a rather handsome young man, if not pretty. Between his pretty face, brown ponytail and long bangs, curling inwards to hang in his eyes, at first glance Kimiko almost thought he was a she, but yesterday she had quickly distinguished his gender by his muscular upper body and his easily discernible male voice. The gi top he wore did nothing to conceal his corded biceps, but his baggy trousers concealed his leg muscles, which were probably just as impressive. He had already thrown his jacket over his shoulder. "Good day, Mayako-san," he replied just as coolly as he walked up to her. "I see you still appear to be a man at first, and second look." Kimiko honestly expected Mayako to attack the impudent male on the spot, though his remark was just as crude as hers. To her utter amazement though, the boy and the girl both laughed. Pulling him into a hug, Mayako probably squeezed the breath out of Ryosei, though he too probably hugged her harder than required. A show of strength between warriors, Kimiko supposed. The young man withdrew from her embrace with a smile, and turned his eye to the redhead. "And so we meet again, my dazzling star." If the day could have held any more surprises, it certainly could hold nothing more unexpected than the moment he fell to his knees, lifted her hand gently and slowly kissed it. He released her hand. "If anything awoke me so suddenly today, it would be for our meeting on this cold morning." "I guess," she replied, crossing her arms under her breasts. "It's nice to see you're still alive." Mai already had walked around them and was on her way with Mayako, strolling toward the house. Reiko still stood behind Ryosei, politely waiting. He laughed, turning to Reiko, but addressed both girls. "Let's head in and get some breakfast." When Kimiko turned, Ryosei politely hooked his arm around hers. When she turned to protest, she saw Reiko being escorted on his left. With a sigh, she shook her head as they entered the household. * * * "You would have been well advised to bring your coat as I told you, son," Genma coldly told his eldest child. "I'm not cold," Rintaro shot back, fighting hard to control his shivering. Unfortunately for the boy, his skin betrayed him with goose bumps. "Concentrate on walking, or you might fall down." The unspoken insult "old man" did not even need to be spoken. The morning's weather had been painfully cold to him, and he wore a thick jacket, as did his wife and youngest. Genma did not particularly like the long walk from his home to the Tendou's, but he did need to exercise now and again, and his wife certainly was in good enough shape to keep pace. He glanced back to his eldest again, before contentedly increasing their pace. "Are we almost there, Poppa?" Shintaro asked impatiently, squeezing Genma's hand. "Yes, son," he replied. "There is only one block left." The boy squealed with delight, and whispered, "I can't wait to see Eiji again." Genma smiled down at the child, wishing he could begin again with the young man calmly walking behind them. "Are we almost there?" Rintaro mockingly asked, drawing close. "I just cannot wait to see all of my most wonderful friends." The venom laced with sarcasm almost caused Genma to turn and scold the boy, but he kept his calm. "If you are so impatient, Rintaro, than why don't you run on ahead? I'm sure everyone will be just as delighted to see you too." He spared his eldest a half glance. "Maybe I'll take you up on that, Father," the young man said, walking around them. He put his arm on Nodoka's shoulder briefly, and after she nodded, he sped into a full run, turning the corner. "I fear, not for the boy's manners, but of his intentions, dear," his wife calmly told him, too calmly. "Yes, love," he replied. "But I doubt he'll upset the party." His wife looked at him, raising her right eyebrow. He shrugged helplessly and returned her look. "Much." * * * Only the howling wind greeted him as he pushed the gate to the Tendou's residence. He crossed the red bricks sprinting only to stop and knock on the front door. Pausing for only a couple seconds, he turned the knob and nudged it open. Ryosei and Reiko turned to face him as he entered. He smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked through the door into the foyer of the house. Ryosei's black pants rippled with the frosty wind as he held the door open for the young man entering. "Hello, Rintaro." The coolly bitter greeting rang pleasant in Rintaro's ears as he recognized the disappointment hidden within it. The boy's eyes were fire, fueled with resentment, dislike and maybe even jealousy. The two young men might have once considered each other allies, but now they were hardly even that. "Ryosei," he indifferently acknowledged, nod. "Greetings, Reiko." "Hi," she replied sweetly. Her brown hair was not bound behind her head as he remembered her wearing it, but rather it fell across her shoulders and back. She was one of the few individuals who could stand his presence, and vice-versa. "We missed you last time," Ryosei lied, closing the door behind the dark-haired youth. Rintaro turned to face him, a very light smirk growing on his face. He figured that Ryosei truly despised him. "Where's your family?" "They're several blocks behind me," he replied, standing in the foyer without any intention of making the first move. He looked at the pony-tailed boy for a moment, and then passed his gaze to Reiko. She folded under his gaze, and turned to Ryosei. He also turned to him, addressing him. "Did Tofu-sensei come with you this time?" Dr. Tofu was a strange man, but he was an incredibly talented martial artist with more knowledge than anyone else Rintaro knew. Talking shop with him was tolerable, if not enjoyable. "Yes, my father is with us," the brunette boy answered, a bit of acid resonating in his voice. Ryosei was probably jealous of Rintaro's friendship with his father. "He's in the living room if you wish to see him." "Thanks," he whispered. Sensing the subtle demand for his departure, he walked past them and into the hall. Rintaro had barely even crossed into the hall when he overheard something that turned his smirk into a wide grin. "There goes the party," Ryosei whispered to Reiko. "Ryosei!" Reiko scolded, but all further comments on her part were muted as he approached the living room. Nearly crashing into him as he rounded the corner to the living room, little Eiji burst past him, running at his top speed to avoid capture. The person that followed was not as fortunate and ran straight into Rintaro. Reacting on instinct, Rintaro knocked the figure aside, barely stabilizing himself in the process. Kenichi expelled a pained grunt as he fell onto the floorboards. Rintaro looked down at the Tendou boy, realizing a moment later that he could have seriously hurt him, but the thought quickly passed. "You might want to watch where you're going," he told the fallen youth smugly, standing over him. Kenichi's eyes narrowed as Rintaro held out his hand to help him up. "No thanks," Kenichi told him, standing. The boy's eyes held less dislike for him than Ryosei's, though how much less, Rintaro did not know. "How come you missed last time? Scared of our rematch?" He smiled slightly at this, for they both knew that he would almost never be a match for Rintaro. "Of course, mighty Kenichi Tendou," Rintaro replied sarcastically. "I had decided that of all the reasons for me not to show, your rematch was enough." If anyone was a good sport about losing, Kenichi would be the one. He at least tried to make an effort to be civil; not that Rintaro returned it. "I better go catch the rug rat before he thinks he got away from me," Kenichi said, excusing himself. "He'd never shut up about it then." Rintaro nodded, walking past the other into the living room. The familiar scene of a casual Tendou morning laid spread out before him, and as he entered, he tried to stifle a yawn. Three figures sat around the shoji board, Tofu Ono, Master Soun and a girl with long, bright red hair who had her back to him. A crash from the kitchen indicated that Shampoo Ono was embarking on their hopeless, bimonthly journey to teach Aunt Akane to cook more than rice without utterly ruining the dish. He shook his head, regretfully remembering the last item she managed to prepare. Its incredibly bitter taste still lingered in his memory. Thank God for take out, he mused to himself. Drawing closer to get a better view of the redheaded newcomer, he wondered if this was the person his father had spoken about earlier. Less than ten feet stood between them, and not one of the shoji players noticed him approach. The redhead did not seem out of the ordinary in any way, besides her abnormally crimson hair, and she looked a little too small to even be considered for training under any proficient masters. With a silent, deep breath, he began to focus his eyes to ease past the physical plane and into the spiritual one. Any artist worth paying attention to would at least glow in the blackness that he drew to himself, and a chi master would burn like a red coal in the darkness. This separated the strong from the weak, the believers from the heretics, and the true fighters from the talkers. She shone like a brilliant star, her distant light growing increasingly brighter the closer his chi came to hers. He was forced to close his eyes then, as the illumination of her life energy suddenly leaped towards him. He could smell her, the sweet perfume of soap; he could feel her, tender flesh pressed up against him; and he could taste every inch of her, a bead of sweat on her forehead and day old, dried tears on her cheek. From within her depths, energy stronger than any he had faced before pulled his entire essence from his body, and he was helpless as it drew him in. Suddenly dislocated from his body on the prime material plane, he tried to cry out in pain as he was torn asunder. Agony shook his existence as the energy pulled; he had no chance to fight back. Madness shone from his eyes, memories from childhood driving him backwards into the depths of his abyss, the silent, sightless hell he created for himself after being sent into unconsciousness from his father's endless training. He cackled, realizing that this was the end, eternity in the one place he thought to hide once, without thinking that he could be trapped here permanently. Silence could be worse than the agony at times, but there had always been a balance before. Just as despair began to overwhelm his sanity completely, a calming hand rippled through him, holding his deafening thoughts at bay. Like water to a dehydrated man, he welcomed the flush of pleasure. His captor held him in limbo, examining every inch of his soul. Words echoed into him then. "Reach not where you do not belong, young one." A pale face broke the inky blackness of his prison and peered at him. Its bright white eyes bore through him, and its lips moved, creating more sound. "Remember that the next time you attempt to bind my host's essence with yours. Your existence ends the moment the consideration crosses your mind." With that, reality violently crashed into him, and he reeled, barely holding his essence from shattering. A horrible tearing sensation that felt as if someone was trying to suck out his guts with a high-powered vacuum returned to his body. His pain vanished, the pleasure faded and sight lit his eyes. Jarring awake as if he had been standing comatose, Rintaro jumped forward, barely catching himself from tripping and falling onto the redhead he had been watching moments before. Laughter rippled behind him, just as Soun and Dr. Tofu chuckled from his front. The girl twisted at the waist to look at him, the hint of a smile forming on her face. Rintaro spun to glare at his assailant, but his anger slipping when he saw that his Aunt had sneaked up on him. "A little bit jumpy today, Rin-chan?" Akane asked before drawing him into a hug. Rintaro absolutely despised the nickname she gave him as a child, but he always ignored it, for she was one of the few that actually liked him. If someone else even whispered it near him though, he would pound the living daylights out of them. "I was just admiring the sunny, warm day outside, Aunt Akane," he sarcastically whispered as his senses fully returned to him, though he still focused on what had happened. Was his experience merely a vision, he wondered, or was it as he felt it had been? For that matter, what did he feel that it had been? He decided to sort his thoughts later. Akane released him and smiled, her hands still remaining on his shoulders. She gently spun him around and whispered, "Introduce yourself, silly." The redheaded girl stood before him nervously, straightening her navy blue skirt. He was tempted to let his eyes linger upon her well- endowed chest hidden within the close-fitting gray blouse, but his manners kicked in and he bowed. "I am Rintaro Saotome," he said, introducing himself. Her face seemed to whiten the moment he spoke his name, though nothing else affected her visibly. "I am Kimiko Nishiyama," she replied, and as she bowed, her loose red hair fell from behind her ears and over her shoulders. By the time she righted herself, the color had returned to her face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Saotome-san." "Likewise, Nishiyama-san," he returned with a nod. For the first time, he took in her appearance deeply. By her hair color, he figured her to be a Joketsuzoku Amazon in light of Shampoo's heritage and unnatural hair color. His first idea might have been might have been a wild guess, but her facial features further reinforced that idea, because she appeared vaguely Chinese. He had seen some amazons from Shampoo's village before, for some of youths who ended up having to travel to Japan seemed to make a pilgrimage to the middle-aged woman when they were in the Tokyo area. Half could barely speak Japanese, while the rest had heavy accents, or at least some recognizable flaws in their speech. Kimiko had none from the little he heard her speak. "What brings you to our gathering, if I may ask, Nishiyama-san?" He resisted the urge to clench his teeth and scream. Why had it not occurred to him sooner? Kimiko Nishiyama was definitely a Japanese name, though she did not look like a native. If he did not pay more attention...he let that thought slide. "Kenichi-san and Mayako-san invited me," she half whispered, hanging her head as if suddenly finding the wooden floorboards interesting. "Soun!" Dr. Tofu admonished, replacing a shoji piece to its proper position. "You know better than to cheat against people other than Saotome-san." The lopsided grin on his face broke the effect of his berating. Kimiko turned to face the board again and quickly sat to guard the rest of her pieces. Rintaro assumed this was the ending of that short-lived conversation. Master Soun chuckled. "Habit," he admitted, replacing a few other pieces he had stashed up the sleeve of his gi shirt. "I don't need to cheat to win this match." "We'll see," Kimiko replied, moving a piece and extracting a low moan from Soun. Turning from their game, Rintaro slid open the door to the back and exited the house. He needed to think alone. * * * The steady beep of the machine echoed in Masami's ears as he sat in the corner of his friend Michio's hospital room. Shadows seemed to gather around the boy, though the lights were on. Three teenagers, about ten feet from where Masami sat, stood over the sleeping, injured boy, their words filled with outrage and contempt. They had every right to it though, especially after yesterday's embarrassing defeat. Out of the four of them who had fought the red-headed demon, he had suffered the least, simply being knocked unconscious when his head collided with the ground one too many times. The others had been beaten before that point. Seiko remained in fairly good condition, though she had a few broken ribs and torn pride. Michio obviously took the brunt of the redhead's attack, landing himself a broken leg. Shoji was in the room across the hall with numerous fractures and abrasions, but no one wanted to talk to him after yesterday's events. He was far too irritable today. Seiko leaned up against the wall next to the head of Michio's bed. The other two young men in the room were Jotaro Saito, Michio's older brother, and Kojiro Yoneda. Jotaro was the eldest member of their group and definitely the strongest. He stood nearly a foot taller than even Shoji, their leader, and he was about six feet tall. He could have been Michio's clone, if not for the height difference of about a half-foot. Unlike his younger brother though, Jotaro was even-tempered and wiser than his years, and yet he vehemently turned down the position of leader when they first offered it to him. Perhaps that was more of a wise decision than Michio thought. Kojiro Yoneda had only gritted his teeth when Seiko had furiously related the story to him. He would constantly push his slim fingers through his spiked, bleached hair, and his eyes consistently danced from member to member as if one planned to stab his back. His dismal, black apparel suited him well, for the boy was a total downer when it came to conversations. He kept his responses brief and to the point, even when the others expected more out of him. For once, he actually stood over Michio's prone body, giggling at the strange position the doctors had set his leg to occupy. The two other members of their group, Katsumi Aomizu and Rina Nomiya, were purposely absent. They had left early in the morning to find out more about the redhead, Kimiko Nishiyama. Katsumi was originally told to do it alone, but knowing his close relationship with Rina, she inevitably followed. Seiko had only scowled when the two left together; she was not fond of her little sister falling in love with Katsumi, the weakest member of their group. A tickling sensation was Masami's only warning before a sneeze violently shook his body. "Shit!" Kojiro exclaimed, suddenly alarmed. "God damn it, Masami. How come you always have to sit in the darkest corner? You were so silent that I forgot you were there." The bleached blonde placed his open palm over his chest, taking a deep breath. "Pay more attention to your surroundings, Kojiro," Seiko berated. "You won't be caught off guard like that next time." "If he pays any more attention, his eyes will pop out," Masami quipped, putting his hands behind his head, sitting far back in his chair. "Shut it, all of you," Jotaro told them, his gaze still fixed on his baby brother. "Tell me again how this Kimiko knocked you into the brick wall." Seiko sighed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "How am I supposed to know how? One moment I was standing there, ready to be hit and the next it felt like someone tossed me across the alley. I hardly felt her touch me, and she certainly didn't leave a mark where she touched." When she finished, she shook her head, rubbing her bruised cheek. "Besides the marks up and down your body?" Masami asked with feigned politeness, grinning wryly. "That's enough out of you, Masami," Jotaro commanded, glaring at him. "She handled you pretty easily if what I hear is true." "She fucking kicked my ass is what she did," he replied. He turned his head, unwilling to listen to any more talk, but what Jotaro said next caught his attention. "Well, I'm guessing she's at least an instructor of whatever art she practices," Jotaro told the group, frowning. "We know that Ryosei's a good fighter, and some of his friends are even better, but not one of them could have taken the four of you like that." "What about Rintaro Saotome?" Kojiro questioned, honestly intrigued with the older boy's assumptions. "He hardly counts," Jotaro answered, rubbing his chin. "He fights about as much as my mother does simply because no one with any brains would fight him once, and definitely not twice." "Um, Jotaro?" The three teens turned to Masami. "Your mother's a professional wrestler." "God, shut the fuck up, Masami!" The even-tempered boy seemed ready to breathe fire over him. "One more word from you and your ass is grass!" Masami turned his head again, feigning that he did not care. "As I was saying," Jotaro continued, turning his attention to the other two. "Saotome doesn't count because he doesn't join anyone's side now anyway. Only the Tendous would really help Ryosei out of a jam, and it would take the three of them to take the four of you. Seiko's almost a match for Kenichi, though I'm probably the only one who could possibly take Mayako alone." He massaged his left side in remembrance of an old wound. "And that bitch is incredibly tough. But Seiko and Masami could handle her, though they'd probably take a beating, and the fight would last for a good deal of time." As Jotaro paused, he looked down at his younger brother. The whole situation reminded Masami of the first time their group brawled Rintaro Saotome. Two years ago, Jotaro and company dominated Furinken and they had only been freshmen at the time. Only Seiko and Jotaro were the only ones old enough at the time to be in high school, and Rintaro was the sole member of the opposition there. As it turned out, Rintaro challenged Jotaro to a fight after school, but Saotome brought Mayako with him. Masami had thought everything was in order, since he was only there to act as a witness, as he assumed Mayako to be, but Rintaro had pretended that he had no idea that there was a fight. He had said that Jotaro was trying to jump him while he was unaware. Whatever Rintaro had said next to Jotaro, Masami completely forgot, but it sparked a fire within the even-tempered boy that he had never seen before. Enraged, Jotaro attacked blindly and struck Mayako on accident when Saotome dodged. Immediately, Rintaro and Mayako attacked. Even when Seiko and Yoshi arrived, though they were not supposed to, the four of them could not stand up to Rintaro and Mayako. Yoshi was nearly killed; Jotaro and he had been thrown in jail, while Seiko escaped before taking any serious hits. Masami shook his head with disgust. Seiko always managed to escape. They dominated him and his friends then, and now another one showed up on the scene to take four with only two. If Rintaro was still a member of Masami's enemies, there would be no chance to win their respect back. With only Ryosei, Mayako and Kenichi, they had the advantage, but now... "Considering this new girl took Seiko, Masami and Michio all in a minute or two," Jotaro began, breaking Masami's train of thought. "I'd say she's easily a master. She might even be able to take Rintaro out in a one on one, though I once swore that it would be a cold day in hell when that would happen." "I'd like to see Saotome beat the shit out of Nishiyama," Seiko added, promptly yawning. The thought of turning Rintaro to their side, or at least long enough to beat Nishiyama, sent chills down Masami's spine. Jotaro looked at her, his eyebrows slanting in thought. He hummed, his eyes returning Seiko's questioning stare. "What is it?" she asked, putting her right hand on his shoulder. "You've got a plan!" She grinned when he nodded. "Tell us!" Nodding, Jotaro looked at all of them before speaking. "With this new girl clobbering us on our own turf, I say push her out, and I know exactly how to do it." Even Masami stood and drew in close as the eldest told them his plot. * * * Closing her eyes with a deep sigh, Akane leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands clenching its edge. The wall of patience she had surrounded herself with had begun to wear thin. She had managed to cook several meals before, and they had all turned out quite edible, quite the contrary to the stew she had concocted today. One sip of the grotesque slime was all that was needed. She did not even argue when Shampoo dumped it in the trash. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, comforting the struggling cook. Akane turned to her best friend with a smile, but even she felt that it was a bit forced. Her eyes sank and she relaxed her grip on the counter. "Why does it always turn out like this?" she asked rhetorically, lifting her hands to stare at them as if they were a curse upon her femininity. She sagged her shoulders, releasing another heart felt sigh. "Well," Shampoo began, pretending to count numerous reasons with her fingers. Akane grinned, pressing her left hand to her forehead. Shampoo gently squeezed her shoulder. "You just need to relax, Akane. Just keep it simple and do it slowly, and you'll get it eventually. I promise." Nodding slowly, Akane put her hand on Shampoo's. "I remember someone telling me once, 'Keep it simple stupid!' Of course, it only made me more angry and I punched him through the kitchen door!" Akane and Shampoo chuckled, but suddenly Akane's humor died and her knees wobbled slightly. As Akane began to fall, Shampoo caught her and wrapped a steady arm around the woman's waist. "What's wrong, Akane?" The urgent concern in her voice woke Akane from her stunned silence. "I-I...that is..." she began, staring at the floor. She looked at Shampoo, her eyes pleading. "Ranma told me that." Shampoo looked away, breathing in deeply. "It was only a week or two before he disappeared. He was trying to help me cook, and he was actually helping for once, but..." Her voice trailed off and she wrapped her arms around herself. "It's all right to think about him, Akane," the purple-haired woman told her solemnly. "That's all we have left of him now, anyway. Memories of a boy that everyone loved so deeply." Shampoo turned to her then, smiling playfully. "Cheer up. Maybe what he taught you last will help you cook now." With a weak nod, the raven-haired woman dreamily stared at nothing. "Sometimes I think he was only in my dreams, and that I never really lost him, as if he only existed in my imagination." She turned back to Shampoo, lowering her eyes. "Then I'd wake up and realize he really did exist and that I did lose him. We never had a chance to enjoy what we had." "Stop talking like that, Akane," Shampoo replied. "How come you're thinking about him all of a sudden? I thought you came to terms with this years ago?" When Akane did not answer, she questioned her further. "Is it because of Kimiko Nishiyama, Akane?" As crystalline tears began to spill down her flushed cheeks, Akane turned away from Shampoo. "No, what would make you say that?" "Only two reasons," Shampoo told her, putting her hands on Akane's shoulders. "Because she practices martial arts far beyond her age and she looks like Ranma did when we first met him. I'm guessing it has a lot to do with the second one." Conceding, Akane nodded, glad that she and Shampoo would not be bothered for a while. Her hand reached down the front of her shirt, grabbing hold of the small locket dangling between her breasts. She unhooked the golden chain on the back of her neck and held it out behind her, which Shampoo took. "It's not the hair or the similar appearance, really," Akane confessed, turning her flank to Shampoo, looking over at her as she stared at the pictures in it. "It's her eyes." She said faintly, almost whispering. "She has his eyes, Shampoo. Not just blue eyes, his eyes." "How long have you had this?" Shampoo asked, holding up the open locket. "I've had it for sixteen years." The everlasting warmth faded from Akane and she no longer felt anything but the pain of Ranma's loss all over again. "I cut those out from two different pictures and hid them in the locket when my husband started throwing everything of Ranma's out, or giving it away." She had protested, but he had told her that keeping his stuff at the house would only be a constant reminder of Ranma. Everyone else agreed, but it hurt worse losing almost everything that tied him to her than it did to have the objects around, especially the pictures. Nodoka took most of those. "I remember that," Shampoo stated. "Those were hard years for everyone." Placing the chain around Akane's neck, she re-clasped it. "What you said earlier, about Kimiko having Ranma's eyes...what did you mean?" Shrugging helplessly, Akane wished that she knew what she had meant by that. For a brief instant yesterday, their eyes had met and she had recognized the deep blue eyes of her former fiancee. "My father and Genma believe that she's his daughter." Gasping with shock, Shampoo put a hand to her mouth. "You think they're right, don't you?" Akane could not answer her and only remained silent. She had not really decided for herself, and thinking about it only hurt more. Old wounds were once more fresh, burning slashes cut across her soul, and its poison coursing through her body. She wiped her face with her arm and then tried to dry it with her cotton apron. "Let's talk to her," Shampoo suggested, walking to the door of the kitchen, spying through the circular glass cut top part of the wooden door. Akane only looked at her incredulously. "I can always do the talking while you just listen in." "Okay," Akane agreed. She then took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaken nerves. Following the purple-haired woman, she shook her head. A week ago, if someone had told her that she would break down upon seeing someone who resembled Ranma, she would have laughed. It did not seem so funny at the moment though. Her father sat across from Kimiko, while sweet Doctor Tofu watched from the side of the shoji board. From the scowl on her father's face, Akane guessed that Kimiko was winning. "Sorry, Tendou-san," the redhead told Soun, bowing from her sitting position. "Good job," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. At this moment, Akane and Shampoo sat down, one on each side of the girl. Shampoo opened her mouth as to speak, but Eiji burst into the room with Shintaro, the youngest Saotome child, in full pursuit. Eiji positioned himself between Kimiko and his mother, circling around when Shintaro tried to catch him. Akane almost cried out in protest. "Can't catch me!" Eiji teased, sticking his tongue out at the other boy. "Why don't you two take your game outside?" Tofu suggested, motioning to the closed door to the backyard. "It's cold outside," Eiji complained, narrowly dodging Shintaro's lunge. Akane smiled and slid out of the way, allowing Shintaro to charge his opponent. With no where to dodge, Eiji braced himself and both of the boys fell sprawling on top of Kimiko. "Ow," Eiji whined, sandwiched between two other bodies. "Get offa me Shintaro!" When whole group of adults began to laugh, Eiji started to giggle. "I'm stuck." "Allow me," Kimiko said as she stood, lifting both of the boys up with her. Adjusting them in her arms, she held them both upside down by their legs. "Both of you want down?" "Yes!" Shintaro whispered with a giggle, trying to wiggle out of her grip. "No!" Eiji giggled, holding his arms to his chest. Walking forward, the girl cleared the area of the shoji board and set them down, much to Eiji's disappointment. "I'll give you three seconds to get outside and hide!" The boys immediately bolted towards the door, barely remembering to open it before plunging head first into a sprint. "I'll play you later, Doctor Tofu," Kimiko promised as she began to chase after the children, shutting the door behind her. The remaining four adults all sat around the shoji board in silence, until Shampoo broke it. "She certainly gets along well with the children." "Yes," Soun replied, nodding with a smile. "She'll make a fine mother some day." He scratched frizzled mustache idly, staring at the shoji board. "An amazing child, that one is. She planned the whole game, right from the start. I could see it in her eyes." Any further comments were cut short as the next family entered the house. Genma and Nodoka both carried covered baskets as they strolled into the living room. As the four sitting around the shoji board stood to greet their friends, Akane glanced back to where the children were playing. Her questions would have to wait for later. * * * Within the bright dojo, the twins rotated around one another in a circle, both ready for the other's attack. Cracking his knuckles, Kenichi prepared for his sister's rush. The gleam in her eyes left little doubt in his mind as to what her opening moves would be, though she rarely ever fought with anything less than with her full effort. As if predicting the outcome of their fight, she stood across from him wearing a cocky smirk. He curved the right side of his mouth in a lopsided smile, signaling the beginning of their match. He quickly sidestepped her lunge kick, striking her outstretched leg with a closed fist, hard enough to cause her to lose her balance. Unfortunately, he was not quick enough to redirect his body against her and she deflected his counter punches with impossibly quick blocks. Never one to give up on a failed attack, Kenichi continued to assault his sister with punches. She almost managed to block every one, but the last slipped past her defenses, grazing her chin. Caught off guard by his successful strike, Mayako tripped backwards and fell onto her back, dazed by its power. She immediately turned over onto her side, grasping her chin. Quickly falling to kneel next to her, Kenichi leaned over his sister. He furrowed his brows and slowly put his hand on her shoulder. "You all right?" Turning quickly, Mayako punched him in the stomach, grabbed the folds of his gi shirt and tossed him over her side. Automatically curling into a somersault, Kenichi rolled to his feet. "Of course I'm fine, stupid," she told him as he dusted himself off, pulling on the ends of his shirt in a poor attempt to straighten it to fit his body. "You always fall for my crocodile tears, don't you?" "Whatever," he replied, turning to face her as she rolled to her feet. Somehow she always managed to turn his victories into defeats. "He actually managed to knock you down, Mayako," Ryosei commented, grinning smugly from his spot next to Reiko at the edge of the dojo. Both Mai and Reiko had become fairly accustomed to the bickering, and they chatted between each other without notice of the others. The pony-tailed boy stood, further driving his teasing into Mayako's skull. "You're losing your edge." "Shut up, Ryosei," Mayako muttered, turning her attention to her brother. Their antics never ceased to make Kenichi chuckle. His sister's eyes turned dark. "How did you hit me, Ken?" Wondering the same thing himself, he cupped his chin as if giving it deep consideration. Mayako narrowed her eyes, folding her arms under her breasts. A moment later, he shrugged and turned, walking to the edge of the dojo. "I'm not done with you!" Mayako exclaimed, running to catch up with him. "Just 'cause you got me once doesn't mean it's over!" By the time she did stand next to him, he had already taken a seat next to Mai. "Yes, it does," he replied, grinning up at her. "You said before the match that the first to be knocked down loses." She grumbled, playfully kicking his shin. "Well, I want a rematch then." He considered it for a moment, but decided to quit while he was ahead. He probably would not survive round two anyway. "No thanks." He rested his back against the dojo wall, putting his hands behind his head. Beside him, Mai and Reiko giggled. "Ha-ha, laugh it up," Mayako mumbled, turning away from them. She began to walk towards Ryosei who had already taken a fighting position in the middle of the dojo. "Get ready, Ryosei! If I can't kick Ken's ass today, I'm gonna kick yours." "You promise?" Ryosei quipped, broadening his grin. "We can always go to your room and you can kick it there." Kenichi turned to the girls at his side and asked, "Reiko, do you know if Kimiko is still playing shoji with Grandfather Soun?" He had not seen her since he chased Eiji through the living room nearly twenty minutes ago. The thought of leaving her alone with his relatives scared him. Knowing his grandfather, Kenichi guessed that the old man probably already devised a plan to marry her into the family somehow. Shrugging her shoulders, Reiko gave him an apologetic look before continuing her conversation with Mai. He definitely did not wish to join their girl talk, and watching Mayako splatter Ryosei across the walls seemed even less interesting. Rising swiftly against the side of the dojo, Kenichi took a deep breath. The clock above the shrine read 10:00. Such an early start for their gathering, he thought. Silently padding across the clean, wooden floor of the dojo, Kenichi left in search of Kimiko. His thoughts turned inward, reflecting on his brief friendship with the redhead. Strange coincidences riddled his memory, from their accidental encounter at the airport to her pre-existent ties to his family, which he only learned about today. The fact that they would have met regardless of their first meeting made it seem even more fated. As the cold air penetrated his reverie, he gritted his teeth, not allowing his thoughts to falter. Her tear-stained, wide-eyed face remained imprinted on his memory as he searched for her. The urge to record the image onto canvas began to burn within him, and he decided to begin it tonight. The only reason he did not begin this instant was because he would much rather spend it with the girl herself. Rewarded sooner than he expected, Kenichi rounded the corner of the house to see her running from his little brother and Shintaro Saotome around the blue waters of the koi pond. Smiling, he spied them from afar and realized he was not the only one doing so. Not more than ten feet away, Rintaro Saotome stood, nearly invisible within the shadows. That setting suited the dark humored boy, Kenichi decided, approaching his side. "Kenichi," Rintaro acknowledged, not stirring a muscle. "Hey," Kenichi greeted, realizing Rintaro did not even have to look over to realize who approached him. "Whatcha doing?" "The same as you," the dark-haired boy responded, turning his head to face him. Kenichi did not like his gaze. It always seemed as if Rintaro were looking into your soul, to see what lay there, peeling you apart layer after layer. "Beaten by your sister early, perhaps? Or did you actually managed to defeat her this time?" "I got lucky," Kenichi told him neutrally, watching Kimiko run and narrowly dodge the little boys' tackles. "That's all it takes, usually," Rintaro told him, also turning his head to watch. "A little luck is what you need to win, though sometimes even that's not enough." Kenichi looked at the older boy again, searching his face for any sign of emotion. As usual there was none. His blank face was impossible to read, though sometimes you could see depression in his eyes. Expressionless, emotionless, uncaring: these were all words easily associated with the dark youth. "You must have a lot of it then," Kenichi replied, hoping for any response beyond a quick grin that would fade as quickly as it appeared. Not even receiving that, he watched Rintaro turn for a moment, as if in consideration, only to turn away again. "I just use what luck I have efficiently." Rintaro's response was dry, lacking any feeling. So bitter and so empty for one so young, Kenichi thought, frowning at what his old friend had become. Looking into Rintaro's pale blue eyes, Kenichi could swear that they would pull you in just to fill the void of the boy's life. He had not always been like that. Kenichi and he had somewhat been friends when they were children, though Rintaro's training limited their interaction to only one day per week. When the older boy began school, they grew apart and they both made other friends, though most of Kenichi's were shared with Mayako. Only within the last few years, Rintaro began to change and close himself off from everyone. No one really knew who he was now. "Be careful with that one, Kenichi," Rintaro stated flatly. Raising an eyebrow, Kenichi stared at him, confused. "What do you mean? Careful with who?" "Around Kimiko Nishiyama," the dark-haired boy replied coldly, turning to face Kenichi. His pale blue eyes seemed to glow in the shadows. "Don't mess around with her." Even more confused, Kenichi frowned. "What do you mean?" Taking offense at the simple mention of not being with her, he easily filtered out his pity for the eldest Saotome child. "Why do you even care?" "She's a dangerous one," Rintaro continued, not even recognizing Kenichi's question. "It's as if she were a stick of dynamite and someone's already lit the fuse. A relationship with her will only speed up the fire, if not detonate it." He blinked, meeting Kenichi's stare. "I wouldn't want to be around when she explodes." Believing Rintaro to be a time bomb himself, Kenichi turned his head away from the dark youth, watching the two younger boys catch Kimiko, only to fall with her into the koi pond. He chuckled, turning back to Rintaro whose expressionless face had not even turned to see the commotion behind him. "Remember what I said," he told Kenichi, walking past him curtly. Before he left earshot, he spoke one final piece of advice. "I wouldn't even mess around with her at all, if I were you. She's bad business." "But you're not me," Kenichi muttered under his breath as he began walking to Kimiko. "And thank God I'm not you." Sopping wet from her plunge, Kimiko stood facing away from him, ringing out the bottom of her blouse. Kenichi's little brother and Shintaro both remained in the pool to splash each other as the koi scattered from the youths. Turning in his direction, Kimiko smiled as she squeezed water from her gray blouse, which was now nearly transparent and clung tightly to her skin. Leaving little to his imagination, her wet bra now conformed to the shape of her breasts and showed him the outlines of her nipples. She released her grip on her blouse, covering her washboard stomach. "Before you say anything," she began, rolling her sleeves up to her biceps. "I meant to do that." Glancing over to the boys leaving the pond, she brushed her wet bangs out of her eyes with her hand. "Do you want to drip dry, or do you want me to get you a towel?" Kenichi asked, stopping to stand beside her. Though his words were flamboyant, he felt his stomach turn over, and a slight blush colored his face. He should have turned away and been a gentlemen, but the sight before him was too much to release. She did not notice, and took a step closer to him. "Akane-san's getting us towels," she replied as she rested her hand on his shoulder. Her chill, damp hands sent sparks down his spine and sped up his heart. "I told her to bring four." His mind began to shut off, but he managed to ask, "Why four?" As he recognized the light fragrance of her damp hair and the smell of mint toothpaste, the thought of her body so close energized him. "Because you fell in too." Before he had a chance to react to her words, she drew him up against her for a brief second, right before twisting and lifting him. Though it seemed to take hours from the point his body limply rested upon hers to the point she tossed him over her hip towards the water, it did not take long for him to crash into the center of the shallow pool. His head punctured the surface of the koi pond, as laughter pierced his ears. Spitting out sour water, he coughed. Regaining his senses and shuddering at the unexpected cold of the pond, he wiped his eyes. While his brother and Shintaro had already fallen down laughing, Kimiko only stood on the edge of the pool, holding out her hand for him. Though he should have been angry for the cheap tactic she had pulled to throw him into the water, he was not. Her blue eyes twinkled with enjoyment, a light they had probably been lacking in recent times. Unlike his sister, who could be quite vicious at times, Kimiko genuinely seemed playful, not intentionally trying to humiliate him. After all, she had fallen in as well. Sliding to the edge of the pond, Kenichi firmly took Kimiko's offered hand, when the moment wiped away his sensibility. As if time had slowed to a crawl, he felt her sluggishly begin to haul him out of the water with her right arm. With one sharp tug, he countered her strength. For less than a second she resisted, but she did not have the leverage to sustain her position. Yelping in surprise, Kimiko fell forward. The lethargy of the moment manufactured time between the instant she slipped off the edge of the pond, and when she fell into his arms, like some fantastical dream right before he woke up. Her wide eyes met his as their bodies collided and descended into the pool. The water slapped the back of Kenichi's head as he once more submerged into the cold water. She hovered above him as he tried to sit upright with her on top of him. Though the chill of the water was draining the warmth from their bodies, he still felt flush when he managed to push his head above the surface. His face pressed up against her, and only too late did he realize just where he had his open mouth. Disengaging his face from her breasts, he shifted to sit up straight to sit eye level with her. He could numbly feel her sitting upon his lap, one leg on each side of his waist. Her warm breath caressed his face, her hands firmly held his shoulders, and her slender body trembled against his. He had not been this close to her since she had pinned him to the dojo mat the day before, he realized. Like hers, goose bumps rose on his arms as he very slowly placed his hands on her hips. She made no protest and did not even try to get off of him. It felt almost as if his body was on autopilot and he was just a vessel, helpless to stand by and watch. She only shivered as he tilted his head to the right and drew in close, sliding his eyes shut. A surge of adrenaline flooded his veins, his stomach cramped and a thousand other sensations overflowed his awareness. And their closed lips met. She felt so warm in contrast with the water that he only just began to feel their close embrace, the hardness of her nipples pressed up against his chest, his arms completely encircling her tiny waist, her hands grasping the back of his neck. He could feel her rapid heartbeat in close comparison to his own, taste the salt of her lips, and smell the sour water on her skin. The torrent of emotions burning within him made every inch of his body tingle, but just as his yearning for her was being sated, the moment ended. A voice, familiar yet unrecognized cried out. "Is everything okay, Kenichi?" Kimiko pulled away from him and stood, leaving him there to shiver in the pool. Unable to move, he continued to sit as his mother handed Kimiko a towel. "Kenichi, are you all right?" "He hit his head when he fell in the koi pond," Kimiko explained, her voice distant and hollow. Shivering uncontrollably within her towel, she looked at him with her brilliant blue eyes, the pain within them shining through for him to see. His stolen kiss affected her demeanor, he could tell. "Come out of the water and let me have a look at your head," his mother ordered, holding out a white towel for him. She looked at Kimiko for a moment, and then turned her face back to him. Standing gradually, despite his shaky knees, Kenichi acknowledged her and slowly walked to her. Wrapping the towel around him, she took his shoulders and asked, "Where'd you hit your head?" Shrugging, he clenched the towel to himself, unable to find warmth in it. As Akane began to probe his head for concussions, he looked past her at Kimiko who still stared at the water shivering, as if someone still sat there. "You seem okay," his mother told him, smoothing back his hair. "You had me worried, sitting their like that in the pond." He turned his attention to his mother and smiled wearily. "I'll start the bath for the two of you, if you want." He nodded eagerly, but Kimiko did not even turn her head to acknowledge anything. "Kimiko-san?" "Huh?" the redhead asked, shuddering abruptly as if someone jumped out of the bushes, about to pounce on her. She turned, her eyes distant as she draped her towel around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Akane-san, what did you ask?" Akane smiled, approaching the girl. "Would you like me to warm the bath for you?" "Oh, no thanks," she replied, avoiding Kenichi's eyes entirely. "I did soak my only clean clothes, though." She turned, a sparkle of sunlight reflected off her eyes for an instant before her hair fell in her face, sticking to her skin. She quickly pushed it out of her eyes. "I'm sure Mayako won't mind lending you some," Akane told her, placing her hand on Kimiko's shoulder. "I can take you up there right now, if you want." With a solemn nod, Kimiko acknowledged Kenichi's mother, and she shied her eyes from Kenichi's as she followed the older woman into the house. His face appeared as blank as his thoughts were, confusion from the recent events still gripping him. Everything started out like a fairy tale, a moment never to be forgotten. Her strange behavior after the fact did not fit into the puzzle he had begun to construct. He closed his eyes and brushed his lips with two outstretched fingertips. The bittersweet taste of her lips still remained, as did his whole impression of the moment, her wide green eyes, the feeling of her arms around his shoulders, her body pressed against his. What could have went wrong? Blinking his eyes open, he furrowed his brows. "Green eyes?" * * * She felt anything but calm as she entered Mayako's room, closely following her once and never to be again fiancee. If she had thought her life was out of her control before, Kimiko certainly realized the meaning of the words now. Like a roller coaster swiftly cruising through some hideous reality, her reality was taking some incredibly dangerous turns while spinning in a loop. Before she had the choice to simply exit this world in which she was a part, but at every turn, it felt like something was dragging her closer to the point of no return. Damned is how she felt, cursed to live a lie until the day she would die. The woman in front of her made her feel so many different emotions, from love to depression, and yet it did not even seem to be the same person she had left behind anymore. Controlling her jealousy and anger, she tried to focus her concentration on something far more eminent than her fallen love life: the stolen kiss in the pond and what resulted thereafter. It could have been nothing other than a twisted nightmare... I fell forever, through time and space it seemed, into a warm, lover's embrace. A cool mist shrouded the small pond, wrapping us within the cold waters. My heart leapt at the indignity of how I fell onto Kenichi, like a parasite clings to its host, my body landing on top of his, my legs around his waist. Warmth flushed my face as I began to recover from the fall, but something stopped me, and made me look a second time. Through locks of my wet, black hair, I fully recognized my true love beneath me. So taken was I with her that I barely even realized that I had regained my manhood, restored to my true gender, and Akane restored to her true age. I sat on top of her, reeling with shock and delight. Akane took the advantage of my temporary paralysis, pushing herself from beneath me, sliding up against my body to face me. A steamy breath gushed from my gaping mouth, and my eyes were so wide that I must have looked down right silly, gawking like a school child staring at a mountain of candy. Through the cold of the water, I felt as if I was covered with gasoline and lit aflame, burning with passion. My hands firmly grasped her shoulders, as if to check if she were real and truly there at that moment in time. I wanted to shout my undying love, pull her into an embrace and kiss her for all eternity, but all I could do was sit there, shivering. Something tugged at my mind, warning me that everything was not as it seemed, but I ignored the urge to pull away. My dream seemed to be coming true, the both of us given back our rightful bodies, neither too young, nor too old. It was as if our love conquered both the wicked nature of fate and the irreversibility of time. As Akane's soft, cool hands crept around my waist, I believed it to be so. With not a breath spared for talk, Akane pulled me so close that our warm flesh seemed to meld. Gingerly kissing me, her soft lips barely brushed mine at first, but then our kiss deepened as she grew more aggressive. I yearned for nothing more than to drink from her lips forever, and an eternity it felt to be. My hands groped the back of her neck as I pushed my fingers into her raven black hair. I could not feel anything else but her as the two of us became one again. Then something strange happened, of which I can barely describe. My body's sensation shifted within an instant, the whole center of my existence being altered. Fiery pleasure from my chest became readily apparent as former stiffness became a more subtle, yearning ache. It was so sudden that it felt like the air was knocked from my lungs without being struck, and yet the burning need for my partner remained. Only, Akane rapidly felt different as well, harder, taller, stronger. Like a mallet of reality slamming against my head, the familiar voice, which I did not expect to hear until we had finished kissing, called out from behind me, as if her voice had become displaced from her body. "Is everything okay, Kenichi?" Kenichi. The name flashed in my mind for a second, and the sensations of my body translated within my mind. Kenichi Tendou, so similar to my Akane, and yet so very different, was the one whose body I sat entangled with sharing body as well as soul, with me on top, Kimiko Nishiyama, so similar to Ranma, and yet his complete opposite trapped within the same body. The familiarity of my female body plagued my awareness, as did my original need to flee. I needed to leave before I became trapped within myself, imprisoned within the cell of torment and fright of who I had been. My body grudgingly responded as I broke the contact between Kenichi and myself, the warmth of his embrace singing promises of pleasures untold, like sultry sirens before they murdered the sailors unwittingly drawn to them. Kenichi's eyes never left mine as I retreated, and like never before I regretted my actions. I highly doubted my sanity at that moment, realizing the confused hallucination I had experienced during my inadvertent tryst with Kenichi. "Kenichi, are you all right?" With that, someone wrapped a warm towel around me, like a protective cloak, warding off the demons as well as the cold. Realizing that Akane, not my Akane, held me steady, I knew I needed an excuse, if not for the mother of the child whose innocence I compromised, then for my own sake. A little white lie, seen as embarrassed discomfort by anyone other than myself, was what I needed. "He hit his head when he fell in the koi pond," were the words that came out of my mouth. Hiding behind a pitiful excuse was what it felt like to me. I returned Kenichi's longing stare with my own confused and sympathetic one. Water blurred my vision, but he stood out as clear as the sun. I could only wonder what he was thinking, now that our friendship was spoiled over a miscommunication of intentions. As I thought about it, he might not have even realized anything was wrong. As Kenichi gradually left the cold pool, my eyes lingered there. Our earlier floundering vanished as time quickly washed away the chaos, regaining its intended serenity. From the center of the water, gentle waves caressed the surface, like rocks skidding across a lake. I could see my wavy reflection in the water, a waterlogged young girl aged far beyond her years. My eyes radiated loss and sadness as I pushed an idle hand through my knotted, red hair. The mirror image stared back just as solemnly, and I wondered which was Kimiko, and which was the reflection. As if silently crying out for help, the watery visage shook with fear and vanished, as if she had been pulled down, so far down, into the depths of the icy cold water. Something inside of me cried out in utter terror, though I spoke not a word. Two forces yanked me in opposite directions, but the fear seemed too overwhelming for anything else to contest. I could only stare at the pool in horrid fascination as it reached into my soul with its placid fingers, stealing my conscious awareness and pulling me in. I tried to fight the fright welling up within me, but something superseded my frantic efforts for emotional and conscious control, someone else's dread, and someone else's phobia. If a cat had jumped in front of me at that moment, with its teeth and claws flashing, I doubt that I would have noticed. So pure, so translucent was the water my gaze fell upon, that even the details of the rock bed below stood out in full detail. Strangely, a lack of koi in the pond made me quiver in fear, though I did not know why. A cool blanket of mist descended upon my surroundings, like they had in my earlier hallucination of being with Akane. That is when I felt a tremor from the pool, not an earthquake, or anything natural, but a shift of the natural balance of chi surrounding me. Powerful energy radiated from the waters, but I could only stare, petrified with terror. Rotted blue hands broke the surface of the water, enough to cover the entire pool. My mind screamed to flee, but I could only stand, watching as they reached for me. They grabbed at my bare legs, their powerful tugs pulling me off my feet. The back of my head struck the ground as I fell over, and they began to drag me into the water. The paralysis that had held me still lifted, and I quickly sat up to fight the hands, which now took hold of my skirt and thighs, ripping and squeezing. Wincing as my bare feet touched the icy cold water, I attacked the closest of the hands with fierce punches. I shredded the topmost ones with my blasts, but as one would fall away, two more would take its place. More and more seemed to sprout as the water reached my knees, and they started to grab my wrists and the skin of my lower torso now exposed by my tattered blouse, though I wrestled them with all of my might. With tears streaming down my cheeks, the intense cold bit me as my waistline met the water. If I could have screamed, everyone within twenty miles would have heard my cry. The iron grip of each hand sent waves of pain streaking throughout my body, and as the freezing water reached my breasts, my cries were nothing more than a muffled sob, for they held my head still, covering my mouth. When I felt the cold hit my chin, I filled my lungs with air one last time, ready to be totally consumed within the depths of the pool as my image had before me. A blue haze distorted my vision suddenly, and my body went totally numb. The pain was a distant concern as darkness crept over, wrapping me in its wintry embrace. I only vaguely recognized the cold of the water, feeling so detached from myself, floating somewhere past reality. Sensations at once ceased, and for that millisecond, I thought the emptiness of death had taken me. And then I heard a faint, rapid noise. It gradually grew in volume until it became recognizable, the sound of a horse's gallop, adding to that, and a jarring, uncomfortable rock that chaffed my inner thighs. I felt remarkably well, especially considering my earlier experience, albeit a bit tired. I tried to pull myself awake, but my body did not respond, and I supposed I had been rendered unconscious. Explaining the why and the how of how of ending up on a galloping horse was another story. Gradually other sensations broke my dreamless slumber, the smell strong smell of leather as well as its roughness against my face, the sound of gentle breathing around whom my arms grasped. I guessed that I was behind the rider of the horse, but I still could not help to wonder what I was doing there. Content for the moment, I relaxed my efforts to awaken. Strangely though, my eyes flashed open of their own accord. Stung by the brightness of noon, my eyes fluttered a few times. Confusion crept into my heart, and my head jerked back with a start. Worst of all, I did not purposely move my body. "Juniji?" The words passed from my lips, but I did not speak them. The voice, though, did not sound like my own. With a very feminine tone, it came out much lighter and more drawn out than mine. An uneasy fluttering in my stomach drew my attention from the lack of control for a moment because of its strength. "Yes, my lady, it is me," a deeply masculine voice responded from in front of her, muffled by their travel. "What happened?" Again, by no choice of my own, my lips moved, I drew breath and I spoke. "You and your escort were attacked by the Emperor's men while you were being transported to your father's estate," the rider told her, slowing the horse to a trot. "They would have been successful in kidnapping you had I followed Bei Ling's orders to never come near you again." Warmth replaced the uneasy feeling in my stomach as I unwillingly rested my head against his back again. I recognized the feeling washing over me as we rode on. Only in Akane's presence had I felt the like, love for which I could feel for no other. The warmth I know felt was for the man I held in my arms. As sick as I wanted to be, no emotion I thought I should feel was experienced. There was only one logical I could conclude upon: I was dreaming. The fact that rotting hands were not groping me, my evil twin was not anywhere near by, and demons were not dancing around a pickled, cooking redhead made this dream quite pleasant in comparison, though I was a bit hungry. I have had some seriously disturbing dreams before; this was nothing. It was just the first time I did not have any conscious control of my dream body. "Thank you, Juniji," my host whispered into his ear, smiling. "I owe you my life twice over now." "Lady Sun Li, I swore that I would let no harm befall you before," Juniji began, resting his hands on hers. "And I meant it. My life is yours. My heart is yours." With a content sigh, Sun Li seemed to purr in response. Even in a dream, I felt the need to wince from the sound, though of course I could not. "I love you," she told him firmly, affectionately squeezing his rigidly hard ribs. I could only guess that he wore some sort of flexible metal armor underneath his coat. "And I love you, my sweet lily," he replied, stopping his horse underneath a large tree, its trunk reaching so high into the sky that I could not see its end. A light, sweet breeze gently ruffled Sun Li's long black hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing it in deeply. With one deft motion, he dismounted from the horse, softly leaping to the ground. Reaching out, he lifted Sun Li with his arms extended and set her down. "I thought we'd never stop to eat," she whispered in his ear as she hugged him, and I could not agree with her anymore. The knot of hunger in her stomach was beginning to annoy me. After all, I am used to stuffing my face whenever I am able. He smiled as he withdrew from her grasp, taking the reins of the horse. "Let's move further off the trail. I don't want to attract any attention." Sun Li blushed uncomfortably, looking away. He chuckled in response. "The Emperor's men will still be looking for you, my love. I will not give them the chance to abduct you while I still draw breath." The two of them walked for a short time, until they were invisible from road. Juniji found small dirt clearing between two large ferns, and if they were to sit, the shrubbery would conceal their position, except for the horse. From his saddlebags, the warrior produced a wide, thick wool blanket, which he spread out upon the ground. Motioning for her to sit, he unceremoniously plopped on the ground, the exhaustion he felt obvious. "Are you well, love?" Sun Li asked as she gracefully sat next to him, putting her arm around his broad shoulders. "I am tired; that is all." With a deep sigh, he begins to unwrap some trail rations from a waxy paper. "Forgive my lack of appetizing foods, but I did not expect company." He actually sounded embarrassed saying that as he handed her decent sized a portion. "If dirt were the only food I could eat near you, I would eat dirt," she told him, resting her body against him. His thick leather coat padded him well, but the body armor beneath made it uncomfortable; however, Sun Li spoke not a word in complaint. He seemed to realize the problem, though, for he prompted her to sit up as he untied the coat from around his neck, revealing a chain mesh body armor, woven so tightly that it almost appeared to be a single plate instead of a web of metal. Slipping his arms into the body of the armor. "Would you help pull it over my head?" he asked. Without responding, she pulled the armor at his neck, lifting it over his head and hurting her fingers in the process. He took the armor from her and placed it out of the way. "How do you normally get out of it, if you cannot do it yourself?" Sun Li wondered aloud, laying her back against his chest, and he wrapped one arm around her. She took a bite of the trail ration, disguising her dislike for the bitter food with a smile. The flavor reminded me of something Akane would cook on a good day; that was not really saying much for it though. "Normally, I do not," he replied, taking some of the food for his own. "This really is pretty bad, isn't it?" With a giggle, Sun Li nodded in complete agreement. "When we last met, you didn't wear your armor then?" she questioned, taking another bite. "I usually do not in your presence, unless I expect danger." "Oh," she replied, then yawned deeply. Craning her neck back, she looked into his eyes. "Not expecting danger, sir knight?" He smiled and leaned forward, lightly brushing her lips with his own. He held her securely, his left hand cupping the back of her head in support and his right on her left shoulder. The taste of his lips was ecstasy for her, and that I truly knew, for I experienced it as well. Nothing I could do or think could change it, either, for I was Sun Li, and she was me. And in that moment, I was whole. Whether only a moment or an hour later, the darkness crept upon me. I did not know if I welcomed the escape, or dreaded it, so clouded was I with Sun Li's emotions, especially her love, her acceptance of his lowly station, her remorseless choice to be with him against the society that raised her. Billions of souls occupied Earth, and yet I was alone again, encased within inky black detachment from Sun Li's body and mind. As perpetual as the loneliness felt, I knew it would have an end. I did not believe in eternal suffering, for every soul has its place in the world, until the body is dead, decaying under the surface, never to feel the warmth of the sun upon the flesh and the passion of a lover's farewell breath. It was not my time, I told myself as a pinpoint of light shone through the covering of the void within which I existed. That light reached out for me, taking my hands gently. I expected the warmth that light usually bestowed, to warm my frozen soul and pull me from my hell, but the chill of water and the presence of damp linen that I slowly became aware of were far from warm. A soft hand on my shoulder startled me, restoring my former consciousness. Akane, Kenichi and the rest of reality flashed in my mind, reminding me where I stood, and what I had done. It was nothing but a twisted nightmare, Kimiko reminded herself as she silently shed her sodden clothing. Peeling her undergarments from her body, she then took the ones offered by Akane, a sports bra and panties with Sailor Moon prints. Though she had to suppress a shiver at the thought of Sailor Moon pictures on her underwear, she could not help but wonder why Mayako had them. "Yen for your thoughts," Akane told her, smiling lightly. Something in her eyes shined, some secret knowledge that Kimiko needed to be wary of. "I was just wondering why Mayako had Sailor Moon panties," Kimiko answered, fighting giggles. "I didn't know they were even popular anymore." With a chuckle, Akane shook her head and handed Kimiko a choice of shirt and pants. The only ones remotely wearable were stupid looking in their own right, a blouse with Hawaiian prints and a pair of tight sweats. The rest seemed to befit a ten-year-old girl better than a sixteen-year-old martial artist. "They had a resurgence a several years ago when Mayako was thirteen," Akane explained, raising an eyebrow at Kimiko's selection of clothing. "They were one of the few pairs I could find that would fit you. Mayako has grown up and out a lot in the past few years. Don't tell her I said that, though." Nodding, Kimiko put on the clothing. "The kids are all fighting in the dojo, if you're interested," Akane offered, ruffling Kimiko's hair with the towel after the girl had put on the blouse. "I'm sure one would offer to fight you." * * * A violent wind howled as Mai watched Reiko exit the dojo to get an ice pack for Ryosei. Mayako had only scowled at the thought of even needing the item, but Reiko insisted that it could not hurt. Mai agreed fully with the elder girl's suggestion. She did not want to take any chances with her older brother. "You didn't need to hit him that hard, Mayako," Mai admonished, holding her brother's unconscious head in her lap. Even a blow powerful enough to send him reeling into such a senseless state was not enough to wipe the brazen grin off his face. Noticing stray hairs falling out of his ponytail in bunches, she untied the thin cord that bound it. "He asked for it with that last insult," Mayako retorted, huffing and crossing her arms over her breasts. She looked over her shoulder at him sympathetically, but turned her head back quickly. "He did, but you still didn't need to knock him out," Mai replied, her voice just loud enough not to be considered a whisper. Pulling Ryosei's hair back tightly, she retied the cord for his ponytail. "I go away for a few minutes and Ryosei's out cold?" Kenichi called out from the entrance of the dojo. Mai blushed as she looked up at the young man. With a towel draped over his shoulders and a sodden gi clinging to his body, very little was left to her imagination. He seemed to glow with a rare burst of confidence as he sauntered across the blue mat of the dojo, leaving a damp footprint with each step. Spinning to face away from him, Mayako grumbled something unintelligible. Mai knew that she was still angry that he had beaten her so swiftly earlier and not allowed her the chance to rematch him. Mayako was just that sort of person, losing was not a part of her vocabulary. Mai had heard her call it "temporary defeat" once, and it always seemed to be that way. No matter how hard she would have to work, she would always come up on top in the end. How on Earth she developed such a demeanor was beyond Mai, especially considering Mayako's mother, one of the gentlest and most benevolent people in Tokyo. Ryosei stirred in her lap as Kenichi stopped next to her. "He okay?" Mai looked up at the drenched boy, smiling at his honest concern. She nodded quickly and turned back to her brother. Kenichi shrugged. "Slap him around a bit. He'll wake up." "Don't you dare, Kenichi Tendou!" Reiko scolded, entering the dojo unheard. "The last thing he needs is anyone hitting him more...why you have to fight in the first place..." She let her words die, for they only met heathen ears. Reiko glared as Kenichi chuckled and walked into the boy's locker room. Mai giggled, taking Reiko's offered cold pack. "Hit Ryosei anymore and he might lose his last brain cell," Mayako scoffed, unceremoniously dropping in front of Mai. Although her words insulted Mai's brother, Mai knew better. Through it all, Mayako was concerned when it came to her friends, no matter how confident of his condition she seemed. Somehow she thought that her eyes seemed to show more than just concern, though. Probably guilt, Mai supposed. "I heard that," Ryosei whispered, and then hissed as Mai pressed the cool plastic pack to his forehead. "Stronger than any horse, but just as ugly." "You're not making the situation any better, Ryosei," Reiko told him, sitting down next to him and Mai. Mayako only shot him a dark glare from her position in front of Mai. The hiss of the shower faintly sounded through the piping around the dojo. Mai colored faintly just thinking about who was taking the shower. Turning her attention back to her brother who still laid on her lap, she flipped the cool pack over. "I wonder how Kenichi got all wet," Mai thought aloud, letting her grip on the cool pack slip. It slid down and Ryosei caught it as it passed his nose. "Sorry, brother." "No problem," he replied, sitting upright. "That was some kick, Mayako." Mai watched his back tense slightly as he fought to right himself completely. "Thanks, I think," Mayako responded, looking at the dojo wall. Addressing Mai, she dryly commented on the girl's earlier question. "I think Ken found the koi pond was nice this time of the year." Reiko and Mai giggled. "From the look on his face, he did more than fall in, though." "Yeah, he looked happy," Mai added, resting her chin on her brother's right shoulder. Ryosei slopped the cool pack on the top of her head, causing the girl to giggle again. "Maybe Rintaro pushed him in," Ryosei suggested, taking the cool pack and pressing it against his head. "Rintaro wouldn't do that!" Reiko protested, rocking on her knees. "Plus, why would he be happy about being pushed in by Rintaro?" Mayako glared at Ryosei, challenging him. "Hell if I know," he shrugged, dropping the cold pack to the mat. "Maybe Kimiko-san pushed him in. I'd even be happy about that." "Pervert," Mayako muttered, turning her head. She turned back with an evil grin. "Better yet, maybe she pulled him in!" Ryosei and Reiko laughed out loud, leaving Mai to stare towards the locker rooms mutely. "And I'm a pervert?" Ryosei mused, pushing himself to his knees. "What if he pulled her in?" Mai jabbed his back with her index finger, shaking her head. "Hey, it could happen." "Why don't we bet on it?" Mayako proposed with a lopsided grin. "She pulled him in, I win. He pulled her in, you win." "How do you know Kimiko was even in the pond?" Mai interjected defensively. Truthfully, she hoped neither pulled the other into the water, or pushed for that matter. Silently scolding herself for her jealousy, she frowned at her brother's back. "Kimiko had to change her clothes," Reiko informed them with an innocent smile on her face. When everyone looked at her dubiously, she elaborated. "I asked Auntie Shampoo where she was when I got the ice pack." "It's settled then," Ryosei concluded, holding his hand out for Mayako. "If I win, you and me, and Kenichi and Kimiko go on a double date. And you pay for it all." Mai giggled when she saw Mayako grimace like someone told her it was time for a dentist appointment. "Well, since I know Kenichi is not the type to pull girls into cold bodies of water," the twin began, taking Ryosei's offered hand, "I'll agree to it. When I win, you owe me a week of free okonomiyaki." "Deal!" Ryosei exclaimed, shaking her hand vigorously. By his attitude, Mai guessed that either way Ryosei had accomplished his goal: to get Mayako to agree to do anything near him. It was no secret that he fancied Mayako, but then again, he really did not hide his attraction to anyone. That was the greatest problem he had in keeping a relationship with girls. If Mai had a yen for every woman he hit on during a date with another, she would be only one yen short of a million. The hum of the shower withered and died as Kimiko entered the dojo, followed closely by Rintaro, their heads close in conversation. The four teenagers on the mat watched them in silence as they neared them. "How much is 'sort of'?" Rintaro asked of her. "You know, I've practiced some," she replied nonchalantly, hooking her hands in the pockets of some pants that Mai recognized as a pair of Mayako's black sweats. "I don't spar with amateurs," he said in a monotone voice. "I didn't say I was an amateur," she responded, sitting down two feet from Mayako. Her hair took a deep shade of crimson when wet, Mai noticed, wondering what really did bring the two to fall into the koi pond. She knew Kenichi liked the redhead, but she had no idea whether Kimiko felt the same about him. Mai hoped not. "She beat me," Mayako cut in, playfully sticking her tongue out at Rintaro who seemed neither impressed nor surprised with the statement. Mai most certainly had, even after seeing the girl in action. Then again, Rintaro was notoriously stone-faced. Mayako then added, "She'll give you a run for your money, Rintaro." Rintaro sat down close to and facing Kimiko, quite daring and open for him, Mai thought. If it were not for the height and hair difference, she might have considered the too brother and sister. Their facial features and eyes looked similar, but Kimiko was much too cute to be his brother. Mai could admit that even though she was still bitter about Rintaro hurting Kenichi the last time they fought. "Then you want to spar?" Rintaro asked single-mindedly, not paying attention to anyone else. Mai always thought he was much too serious, and the little interaction she had with him only solidified that view. "I guess," Kimiko answered, crossing her legs. "I hope you're as good as you think you are." Mai supposed that if a pin fell, everyone would have jumped when it hit the ground. No one had ever challenged Rintaro's skill like that before. Challenge him, yes, but question his skill? No. The young man was like the anvil of martial artists; everyone was broken on him at least once. He certainly made for a good ego deflation device, because even grown adults lost to him. Rintaro had the best of both worlds, speed and power. Most only had one or the other, like the twins. Kenichi had power and Mayako had speed. While they complemented each other very well, Rintaro was a team of his own. He would plow through a group faster than Mayako could, and yet harder than Kenichi. Rintaro's cold blue eyes only radiated curiosity, never outrage or anger. That was another of his strengths. He never let anything get to his head, and he rarely bragged about his victories. His ability to stay cool while angering his opponents was legendary among the fighters of Nerima. He would be a perfect catch for any girl other than the fact that he was also as closed off as box without hinges, door or lid. Nothing seemed to affect him, and he did not care for anyone but himself, it seemed to her. "I never think, Nishiyama-san," he replied neutrally. "I only am as good as I know myself to be. I also hope that you are as good as you seem to be." "Hey, Kimiko-san," Ryosei bluntly interrupted, causing Rintaro to glare at him. "Mind if I ask you a question?" She shook her head. "Well, Mayako and I had a bet, and we were wondering. Who pulled who into the koi pond?" At that moment, Mai's spirits wilted, for she knew that at least one of them had pulled the other into the water, because Kimiko's face began to emulate the color of her hair as she looked away. "He told you that?" she whispered, unmistakable disappointment resonating in her low voice. Mai almost cringed in the poor girl's place, and she poked her brother in the ribs for being so rude. Though, she did wonder why Kimiko was so embarrassed about it. Pulling someone into the water, or vice-versa, was not that big of a deal. "Well," Ryosei gulped, realizing he overstepped the bounds of good manners, though it would do him little good now. "You see..." "Ah, come on, Kimiko," Mayako whined, batting her eyelashes. "I've got a lot riding on this. Please tell us!" "Mayako!" Reiko reprimanded, her tone bordering anger. "That is so rude! You should both apologize to her this instant." At least someone was sticking up for the poor girl, Mai though to herself. She certainly was not going to be the one to do it, especially if it involved getting her head bit off by Mayako. No one ever argued with Reiko, though. "No, it's okay," Kimiko lied, regaining what was left of her composure. She looked different than she did earlier, Mai thought. It was something in her eyes, but for better or worse, Mai could not distinguish. "I'll spar with you now, Saotome-san." With that, Kimiko sprung to her feet and quickly put a bit of distance between the group and herself. "He pulled her in," Rintaro whispered when Kimiko was out of earshot. "That's right before he kissed her." Mai's heart skipped a beat as Rintaro stood up. "It was a scene right out of a paper back romance novel." "Whoa," Mayako murmured under her breath. "He's making the moves on her fast." Whatever her brother said next, Mai did not notice. Rintaro's words swam in her mind, echoing over and over. "...he kissed her," he had said. Could he be lying? She wondered. But why would he lie? He would gain nothing from misinforming them, and he had never seemed the vindictive type. "He kissed her," Mai whispered so low that even she did not hear herself speak the words, though Rintaro nodded in her direction before he turned to walk to face off with Kimiko. "Oh my," Reiko whispered as her initial shock wore off. "I'm so sorry, Mai-chan." Mai only dumbly nodded, ignoring the exchange between her brother and Mayako, who seemed to callously ignore her feelings. It hurt so bad realizing that her love for Kenichi might never be reciprocated. She felt a dozen years younger than him then, almost like a baby sister to the teenager she dreamed of marrying. "I can't believe I have to go on a date with you," Mayako stated in denial, shaking her head. "All right, how about we either sweeten the deal for me, or cancel the whole thing with one last bet," Ryosei proposed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, without the fear of loss. "And what would that be, smart guy?" Between the look on Mayako's face and the dry tone of her voice, she did not seem ready to lose anything else today. "We bet on who wins this match," he offered, grinning. "And the prize will be a kiss good night at the end of the date." With a shake of her head, Mai looked over at the two preparing to spar. Rintaro merely stood there with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, while Kimiko stretched. The redhead was amazingly dexterous, standing upright straight from doing a full split. She looked like a spring the way she bounced to her feet so easily. During her melee with Shoji and his goons, she had fought them so casually, as if they were hardly worth the effort. It was almost as if she had been fooling with them, rather than beating the living daylights out of them. It was not fair that she could be so good and hold Kenichi's heart. "There's no way I'm going to agree to that," Mayako retorted distastefully, glaring at Mai's brother. "I'll part with cash, but I won't part with a kiss. I'd rather kiss Rintaro than you, and he'd have to be the last person on Earth for that." "Whatever, frosty," Ryosei uttered, shrugging his shoulders. "You're just afraid to lose." The perpetual hiss of water from the locker room ceased, stealing Mai's attention again. She sighed and pulled her knees to her chest. "Afraid to lose?" Mayako shot back. "I'm not afraid. You got a deal then!" "My bet's on Kimiko," he told her resolutely. "As much as I hate betting against, Kimiko," Mayako began. "I don't think she can beat Rintaro. You got yourself a bet, Ryosei." There was a brief silence in the dojo. It felt unsettling for Mai, all cooped up with nothing but her own thoughts to listen to. She wanted to stop feeling sorry for herself, but the urge to curl up in a ball and die would not go away. "What are you thinking about, Mai-chan?" Reiko slid over and put her right arm around the young girl's shoulders. Mai only shook her head while biting her lip. "You'll meet someone else. I promise." Bringing her head up to meet Reiko's kind smile, she forced one of her own. "But none of them are Kenichi." "Getting over crushes is pretty tough, I know," the older girl replied wiping an unexpected tear from Mai's face. "He'll be out here in a few. Try asking him what happened. Maybe it's not as it seems." Always the hopeful, Mai thought to herself. "I guess. But how can he be anything else than in love with her? You saw him last night. If she asked him to swim to China and back, he'd have done it." As if I would not do the same for him, she thought. "She may have rejected him, though," Reiko suggested, patting Mai's back. "Even if she didn't, it's not like they're engaged or anything, though I wouldn't put it past Grandfather Soun." With a giggle, Mai wiped her face with her hand. "I wouldn't either!" She sniffled and rested her legs out straight. "Here he comes," Reiko whispered in her ear, then scooted a few feet from her. Looking over her right shoulder, she watched Kenichi pad onto the dojo mat, bowing upon his entrance. His ruffled, wet hair glistened in the light, obscuring his handsome face from her. He was dressed in black slacks and a green shirt. He must have hurried to dress, for most of the buttons from his upper stomach to the top were undone, and the collar stood upright instead of folded, shrouding his bare neck. "Hey, Kenichi!" Reiko called over to the young man, patting the space between Mai and herself. Kenichi smiles like his sister, Mai observed as one side of his lips curved upwards in a makeshift grin. He silently walked around to them, the black slacks drawing up against his thighs as he tracked his way to them, defining the muscles of his legs. She ached to drape her arms around his shoulders then, to draw him close and to taste his lips. His brown eyes twinkled as he rounded behind and sat between them. "Hey, you look down, Mai. You okay?" She felt the light tickle of his breath as he spoke to her. "I'm fine," she replied softly, having to control her nerves with him so close. Unable to speak more than that, she bit her upper lip and turned away. "Oh," he whispered. Mai had to stifle a gasp when he rested his right hand on her left shoulder. "If you ever need someone to talk with, I'm a good listener." She did not need to see his face to know he smiled at her reassuringly. If it were only that simple, she thought, responding with a nod. Much to her discomfort, he let his hand remain as his attention for her faded. His knee bumped her leg as he shifted to sit with his legs crossed. Gulping slowly, she turned her head to look at him. As if entranced, he stared at Kimiko who was just beginning to stand across from Rintaro, with Ryosei, the mediator, in between. "She's going to fight Rintaro?" His voiced betrayed his concern. "Yes," she answered, unintentionally scooting closer to him. The cloth of his shirt widely hung open, revealing nearly his entire chest from her vantage. A faint blush crept over her cheeks and she forced herself to look at the two fighters. "I've gotta stop her," Kenichi said, beginning to stand, but Mayako loomed over him and pushed him down. He landed quite hard, and he unintentionally leaned on Mai, not that she minded though. She quickly put her arm around him for support, though he probably did not need it. "Not if I have a say in it," his twin snapped, crossing her arms over her breasts. She grinned down at him like some evil gargoyle protecting its residence. "I've got a lot riding on this fight. And I do mean a lot." As he frowned, Mai felt his body tense and his arms flex. He felt quite warm up against her, almost unbearably so. "You know Rintaro doesn't kid around," Kenichi argued, glaring at his sister. "She doesn't know that and could get hurt!" Rolling her eyes, Mayako sighed. "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself just fine." "Well, I'm going to stop her anyway," Kenichi stated defiantly. "What are you going to do? Hold me down the whole time?" Humming in mock consideration, Mayako quickly shook her head. "What then? Sit in my lap?" With a giggle, Mayako exclaimed, "Good idea!" and quickly plopped herself on top of him. Mai tried to hide her face, but she burst out in giggles. She could hear Reiko on the other side laughing as well. "Hey! Ah, come on. Get off!" Kenichi looked like a cornered rabbit, looking for a way past the fox. He gently tried to push her off, but his resistance was futile. It was just like Kenichi, Mai thought as she started to control herself. Kenichi was entirely too passive, especially when things involved girls. In this case, Mayako was definitely the fox. "But you offered," Mayako whined sarcastically, turning to him with her best pouting face. "I was kidding," he replied deadpan, frowning seriously. He tried to look past her at the two who were planning to spar, but she leaned her head to block him. "Off, Mayako. I'm not a chair." "I thought you loved me, Kenichi Tendou!" Mayako cried, burying her face in his chest. Sometimes Mayako could act so well that it would even fool Mai and Reiko. Now was not one of those times, although forced tears sparkled on her cheeks. "Don't be like that." Kenichi put his hand on her shoulder. Shaking her head, Mai realized that he fell for her cheap ploy, even though this was one of Mayako's worst performances to date. "Hey, don't cry." The frown vanished as real concern lit up his face. "Gotcha!" Mayako chirped, squeezing his nose as she turned her head to look up. Mai fell over sideways with laughter. The look on his face was simply priceless, half shock and half disgust for being taken for a fool again. "You're not funny," he whispered futilely as she turned away from him. "You're not going to get off, are you?" "Nope." And Mayako would not, either, Mai knew. The girl would probably stubbornly sit on him until the entire fight was over just to prove some zany point that only Mayako herself could understand. Things always seemed to end up just like that within their circle of friends. Nothing would ever get solved, questions would never be answered, and Mayako would always tease Kenichi. It was an endless cycle of crazy events that all happened at once. Others came and left, but the three girls and the two boys had always remained. Ryosei was too much of a pervert to be trusted to sleep over, but other than that, no one else really melded with the circle well. Rintaro had been in it for a time, but he was far too caught up in martial pursuits to stay in one place long and had been more of a casual friend than anything. The last year he had grown very distant from them as well. And that brought Mai to think about the latest possible addition, Kimiko. She had heard through Mayako that the girl was leaving for China very soon, but it did not mean she would not be back. So far, Kenichi had a crush on her, which could last for years with even a little incentive, and a kiss now was enough for at least a year of devotion. Mayako and Kimiko seemed to go together like peanut butter and celery, neither worked without someone else to complement them. Plus, Mayako needed someone to shrink her gigantic ego. The twins seemed to completely accept the redhead in their party of five. Mai did not even have to consider Reiko's acceptance, because she took it on faith that the totally forgiving, warm, faultless girl could possibly reject anyone from their group. She would even let someone from Shoji's group or even Rintaro join them in their slumber party if asked. Now that was a disturbing thought. That left the Onos, her brother and herself. Ryosei was a pushover when it came to cute girls, so he accepted Kimiko by default. The fact that she could kick his ass any time of the day helped things too. Although Mayako was a horrible teacher, far too caught up in her own self-improvement to help others, Ryosei always learned from her, improving a little each time. If Kimiko would stay around, he would probably provoke her into brawls to learn from her as well. The pony- tailed boy took a beating better than anyone she knew, excluding Kenichi, who was hardly a fair comparison. Kenichi was the human sponge at being able to absorb punishment. Four down left her on a fine line of acceptance and rejection. Mai had to admit that Kimiko seemed very nice, even if a bit withdrawn and quiet. The little time they had spent together, the redhead seemed to mirror Mai's own sensibilities, neither taking Mayako's side nor Reiko's impartiality. Kimiko was a somewhat ordinary, if abnormally gifted, teenage girl. Mai normally would not even think about rejecting such an even-tempered, talented girl into their group, except for one thing: Kenichi. For nearly four years now, she had been utterly in love with the young man. She loved everything about him, from his extraordinary treatment of the fairer sex to his blindness to their advances and flirting. He was always so polite and cordial, even when his sister would tease him without mercy. If Mai had been in his shoes during half of the stuff he had put up with, there was no way that one of them would walk out of there without a black eye or a fat lip. Mai put up with her fair share, but it was nothing compared to what poor Kenichi suffered. Just thinking of the subject brought a few trickily memories to mind. It had been the four of them like always, staying up and talking into the late hours. It happened four years ago, when Mai was ten, the twins twelve and Reiko thirteen. Kenichi might as well have been living on Mars for all he knew about puberty at the time. While ten year olds had no problem with breasts yet, the two other girls were already beginning their development. Mayako was well aware of her brother's innocence and took advantage of it on that night. The thing to remember about Mayako was that she had little to no shame, now or then. So she asked her brother to help him with her shirt as she was planning to get ready for bed. Since he had no idea of what she had in mind, he obliged her and got quite and eyeful. For poor Kenichi, it was simply too much. He had turned to Reiko and Mai for support, but unfortunately that made things worse. Reiko trusted Kenichi implicitly, and of course had just disrobed as he turned. Two times in one day was more than enough for him to faint. That left Mai to break his fall and lay pinned underneath, while one girl laughed her ass off and the other to ask Mai if she was all right before going back to her own business. Pinned might not have been the best term, for if she had tried, Mai could have gotten out from underneath him. Something inside of her cried out when she had been about to push him off, though. She wished that she could have seen what it looked like at the time, because Mayako would not stop laughing for nearly fifteen minutes after taking one look. Reiko, being Reiko, fell asleep instantaneously as her head hit the pillow, so when Mai asked for help she could not have answered. With Mayako being herself, she refused to help, got her camera, took a few snap shots and went straight to bed. She had listened to his soft breathing for another half hour before he had regained consciousness. He had not lain on top of her uncomfortably, either. It was as if he had planned the whole thing for a cheap feel with Mai caught off guard, but she knew better than that. He had only half laid on her with most of his weight on his right shoulder and knee, while his body was pressed to hers, his left leg between her two and his left arm against her right, and with his left hand he gently held her left shoulder. The warm skin of his smooth left cheek rubbed hers, and if she had turned then, she might have gotten a mouthful of his black hair. After five minutes had passed, his head tilted slightly, allowing her to look at his face. Pale moonlight gently lit his angelic white skin against the contrast of his dark hair. With his breath tickling her cheek, she had stared in awe at him, realizing the feelings she had kept hidden from herself, her whole life. Her heart had become a knot of emotions for him, bursting to be released. In one of the most daring moments of her young life, Mai had gently caressed his cheek with her lips. Quickly retreating, her heart had felt like drums at a heavy metal rock concert, much different than his slow, relaxed one. It was just an innocent, harmless kiss, but she had felt awful at the time for stealing it at his moment of weakness. The guilt did not last long though, for she had not resisted doing it again. That time her lips touched his face, he seemed to purr like a kitten getting its tummy rubbed. She might just have been a ten-year-old girl realizing and living a fantasy, but his head then had fully turned to face her, his eyes still closed, and his nose brushed hers. She had no chance to giggle, for he had kissed her fully on the lips. As if he had sucked the very life from her body, she had only stared in stunned silence even as he broke the kiss and mumbled something under his breath. It was too bad he had been asleep and did not remember, and even more unfortunate that he awoke a bit later and apologized. Without even realizing it, Kenichi had swept Mai off her feet to be head over heels in love with him. Mai looked at him now with his sister sitting close, resting on him like a recliner. He shot her an apologetic glance for their disrupted moment before he ruined it by looking at Kimiko. Desperately wishing that he had been awake that beautiful night so many years in the past, Mai sighed and looked away. The two years that separated them seemed like and eternity, and the girl that separated them was an obstacle too large to walk around, too tall to climb and impossible to pass through. Life was so unfair. Breathe. Warm air filled his expanding lungs torturously slow, even as the need to suck in all the air he could manage at once plagued him. Tofu-sensei had taught him this technique long ago, when he was just a child. Breathing became life, blocking out everything else, even the pain. He had avoided many agonizing nights through it, and now he was using it to clear his consciousness. His skills were on trial now, no longer his body. With his fists clenched and eyes closed, he stood across from his opponent. Though his vision was darkened, he could sense her to be very near, no further than a few steps away. Her slow, strong heartbeat seemed to echo loudly in his ears though it was no louder than his. Opening his eyes as he finally completed his concentration exercise, Rintaro stared at his red-haired opponent. She, too, had been performing some sort of ritual before the match, though hers included more stretching than mental focus. With the sleeves of her colorful Hawaiian styled blouse rolled up to the elbow, and the pant legs of her tight sweats rolled to her knees, she looked very young, not to mention cute. The baggy shirt gave her figure an ambiguous quality and made her look as young as Mai, or even younger. If it were not for the dead serious expression on her face, he might have fallen for the guise, and if it were not for her too cute face, he might have mistook her for a boy. He vaguely heard Ryosei's spoken rules of conduct, which did not allow the use of any special techniques, chi blasts or magic. Of course, the last two were all in jest, but somehow he figured they might apply to Kimiko Nishiyama. Although he had never seen the second one, he knew that they at least could be possible. What exactly was included as a chi blast, though, he did not know. Prepared and set, Ryosei gave the word and the two combatants stepped up to one another. "Choose your rules guys," Ryosei told them, looking at Rintaro. "What do you mean?" Kimiko asked, devoid of stance. "He means, how are we going to judge who wins," Rintaro explained calmly, keeping his body completely still. "I prefer knock out, though others fight by a certain amount of knock downs or even hits. Which would you prefer, Nishiyama-san?" Without wasting a single second in thought, Kimiko replied, "Knock out." Her vibrant blue eyes shined in challenge, one that he gladly accepted. "All right," Ryosei announced to the onlookers, which currently only included Mai, the twins, Reiko, Shintaro and Eiji, although he had not seen the last two's entrance. The two boys' chatter stopped the instant Ryosei had spoken. "This is going to be a fight to the knock out. First one unconscious or to give up, loses. Also, the fighters have agreed to a clean, no special techniques, no chi blasts and no magic fight." The last one always brought a few giggles from Mai and the boys. "Bow, and may the best person win." With a gracious, low bow, Rintaro formally recognized his opponent, as she did as well. Stretching out his awareness, he eased into a casual stance awaiting signals from her. Much like him, she casually stood across from him as if giving him the word to begin the match. Somehow he had thought she would be the early aggressor, but maybe she sought to catch him off guard with a powerful counter attack. She did have contact with people who knew his general strategies, so she might have conferred with them about him. But something told him she had not. Approaching her cautiously, he watched every breath passing her lips for any indication of her plan, but received none. Being able to fight without leaving any implication of the next move was a rare trait for any fighter to have that he even did not completely possess. He hoped for his sake that she was not able to keep it up throughout the whole fight. Like he initially thought, she simply awaited his move, no indication of a ready stance or even a bit of tension. If he was going to attack first, he was going to give her no room for comfort. Only three feet separated them when he lunged forward attacking her using his right leg and sweeping viciously, leaving his hands ready for her counter. As he had planned for her, she boldly stepped out of the range of his first attack, so close that he swore that his foot caught her pants leg. The distance was enough to foil any counter she might have planned and give him the opportunity to attack again. Almost in the same motion as his sweep kick, he brought the same foot up into a snap kick, which could have badly bruised her left thigh had she not disappeared right in front of his eyes. Not giving himself the luxury of even a millisecond of shock, he rolled forward and heard her clothes rustle behind him. Had he stood there any longer, he would have already been down on the mat. Rolling to his feet, he turned just in time to dodge and block volley of punches, which would have ravaged his chest a second later. He took one glance at her eyes and saw determination in them, cold, hungry and cruel. Even as he glanced at her, her eyes met his as she carved the air he no longer occupied. Seeing an incredibly small opening in her attack, he woven himself in close and his fist met her flesh, but she jerked at the very last second to avoid anything but the slap of his knuckles. Unfortunately for him, it had been a lure, for she struck his shoulder hard with chop. Jumping out of her range, he grinned, realizing his mistake. He expected a hole in her defense, and she had shown him one. Like a damn fisherman, she snagged him, hook, line and sinker. If it had not been for his Breaking Point training, the match would have been over right then, but because of it, all he had was a numb right arm. Within a split second, he changed his tactics from looking for holes to making them. This fight was definitely going to take him to the limits of his ability, and that by far was worth whatever its consequences held. Not even letting up for a second, Kimiko attacked again with a combination of punches and low kicks. Like a master, she executed each with such seamless precision that it left Rintaro defending without thought of counter. Putting all of his energy into his blocks, he began using them as his offensive, leaving each attack with an annoying, if anything, slap to her arms and legs. It was not easy to reverse his entire momentum time and time again for the extra sting, and if he tried to keep it up, he would fall to the ground exhausted. Fortunately for him, his plan worked, and she withdrew her attacks, a scowl of pain on her face. If anything was in his favor, it was tolerance for pain. His far exceeded that of most, only falling shy of Kenichi's natural resistance that bordered on complete tolerance. Obviously, hers was not quite where it needed to be to defeat him. The skin of her arms felt incredibly soft against his as he had blocked her, innocent to the rigorous trials of the body he had encountered in his youth. He had encountered her type before, skilled, fast, but unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of damage. Unwilling to let this opportunity slip, Rintaro blazed to the offensive with ferocious accuracy, each strike ripping through space towards her. But like a fly evading capture from the hand of a child, she dodged nearly everything he could send her way, and easily blocked the rest. His second wave of attacks was nearly as futile as the first, but with his last strike, he grazed her arm, taking with it some skin. If she had not realized he would not pull his punches, for male and female alike, then she did now. He had taken hits like that in the past. They burned like fire for a few moments, throwing concentration off a bit. Winded from his two consecutive, relentless assaults, he fell back as she began trying to pummel him. Her strikes seemed random, almost chaotic, but he saw through the guise. Each put him in a more precarious position, though even a black belt of second dan could easily repel them. She was as sneaky as his father, Rintaro felt, unable to stop a few punches from striking his chest and stomach as he defended his head and legs more rigorously. They were merely glances against his rock hard abs and equally muscled chest, though. Ceaseless training did not seem so useless as everyone had told him. Striking under her arm once as she laid up one of her last strikes sloppily, he managed to dexterously follow through with a difficult maneuver his father taught him, and him alone. It was a very intricate technique, called the "Dead Man's Takedown," to counter punches just like the one she attacked him with, and he grabbed her arm, twisting and tangling it with the sleeves of his left arm. The second part of the technique involved striking the individual in three pressure point areas then finishing them off with a blow to the head, which he would exclude this time, and barring the injured person to the floor. He had used it nearly twenty times in the past, failing only once, the first time when he had learnt and tried it against his father. Obviously, the old man knew the only counter to the technique that he had taught Rintaro. As if Rintaro was replaying the exact moment his father countered the difficult move, Kimiko slipped through his technique as easily as breathing and slammed an open hand into his jaw, followed with three strikes across his torso and elbowing him in the stomach so hard, a wave of nausea coursed through his body. Her last strike was like a powerful shove that sent him sprawling to the floor, sliding to one side of the mat. For nearly a second, Rintaro boggled in incomprehension of what had just happened, unable to comprehend that she knew the counter to one of his favorite incapacitating techniques, which his father implicitly told him that he had designed and never told anyone living. As he quickly flipped to his feet, the sound of cheering broke through his concentration and assaulted his eardrums. He shot a glance at the group watching, noticing that even his brother cheered Kimiko's small victory in this grand scale battle. Completely opposite to what he would have done, she allowed him the space to get up, without pressing another attack. Her chivalry would be her undoing if Rintaro had anything to say about it. Since she offered it, he took a valuable moment of rest, recovering his shocked nerves and walling himself within a shell of pure focus. Again, he picked Kimiko's heartbeat out from among the others in the room, distinguishing her life essence and marking her so he could see her without his eyes. Though it seemed an hour to him, it took less than six seconds for him to recover and march towards her again. He expected her to taunt him as a tactic to throw him off guard again, and easily win. Although it would have failed anyway, and she had no way to know that, Kimiko did nothing of the sort and simply stood, waiting as she had at the beginning of their duel. He needed to rethink his strategy, analyze her defenses again and put her on the defensive permanently. A quick replay in his mind of the fight up to that point showed that her defenses and attacks were very similar to his own in the fact that they had little resemblance to any one art, but rather were a collection of various moves stripped from their original context and combined with each other for maximal application. That left him only his intuition to predict what she could possible use next. As for his strategy, except for the failed maneuver that landed him in such a position, it seemed to have worked soundly enough. He needed to make her jump into the offensive so that he could cause damage as he blocked her attacks so that she would be forced to withdraw again. Unfortunately, he doubted that he would be given a second chance at that. Instead, her strategy would inevitably shift from its original course, so that any prediction he might have derived from the earlier parts of the fight would be moot. Going right with his anticipation for her to change her strategy, she attacked him as he was preparing for doing exactly that. To reverse the momentum of her strikes and counter her, he needed her to string together a large, predictable combination of punches and kicks, because it took a lot of time to prepare it. Unfortunately for him, she struck at him quickly and faded away, even though he did not intend to strike her back, only to attack from another angle with another strange combination that halted before he could regain his bearing. A kick to his outer thigh forced him to collect his wits for a counter evasion. As she bore down on him for a fourth assault, he pushed himself as close as possible to reduce the impact of her strikes, and he withstood her quick barrage of attacks. His lack of defense created a giant hole in her offensive strategy, which he used to spring an attack of his own. With as much strength and momentum as he could muster, he rained several solid punches to her midsection, further driving himself towards her. Her soft, weak flesh folded underneath the might of his attack, though somehow her resistance was higher than he had initially perceived it. Instead of falling in writhing agony as he had expected her to, she actually launched a counter to his counterattack, landing her fists multiple times against his recovering right arm and catching him square in the jaw with one solid uppercut. For both of their sakes, Rintaro temporarily withdrew from their melee, realizing the ache encompassing his body. Not since he was a child had he been forced to employ so much effort for a victory against one opponent. His right arm throbbed madly from repeated blows, while his jaw probably would not work properly for the rest of that day and perhaps the next. Although his body absorbed more strikes than the other two areas, he felt no pain from them. One look at his opponent told him that he was not alone in his agony; though, Kimiko did not look well and probably felt worse. With her left arm wrapped around her waist, she only held one arm out in defense. Her face was a mask of determination, her eyes glimmering with ruthless intelligence. While her left sleeve had fallen to her wrist, the right one was still bundled past her elbow, exposing the marks marring her attractive complexion. If he was going to win, he needed to take advantage of her injuries. With the benefit of speed from the Chestnut fist technique, he hoped to overwhelm her without actually launching himself into the full-blown technique, which would be against the rules he had agreed to. So far, she had stood up to him blow for blow, and neither of them seemed any worse than the other in his eye. There were only a few areas he had yet to test, one of which he planned to do now. Gathering his strength, Rintaro planted his feet into the ground firmly. Kimiko seemed content to wait for him to begin the next contest. So with one mighty leap, Rintaro launched himself into the air. As if it were her second nature, the redhead jumped to meet him on their aerial battlefield. Life seemed to slow to a crawl as the two opponents sped towards each other, and every detail of her body imprinted in his memory, her rippling crimson hair, the thin tear in her shirt in the seam at her armpit, the look of hardened fighter in her eyes and her tight sweats forming to every curve of her legs. Like him, she was at home in the air, for he could read her moves like his fathers, like his father could read his own. If the school of Anything Goes Martial arts had one group of techniques that it did not "borrow" from other schools of combat, it would be the ones developed for aerial combat. Several of the skills he had been taught were unique to his school, while most of the others were heavily modified from their original state. Kimiko Nishiyama had been well schooled in the Anything Goes style, he knew. There was no other way for her to know both the aerial combats techniques and the "Dead Man's Takedown." For a split second, the two lay inches apart from one another, only separate until their arms and legs became a flurry of movement. Rintaro watched each punch and kick, blocked them and countered with some of his own. With all the luck in the world behind him, he tried one last desperate kick to her shin. He expected to feel the repercussion of her block, but instead met the flesh and bone and heard her grunt in pain. Incredibly quick, she angled her body diagonally away from him, and instead of attacking, she pushed off of him, sending herself flying in the opposite direction as he began to fall. Dramatically flipping himself once, he gracefully landed on his feet. No more than a second later, Kimiko sorely landed, quickly falling to a crouch as she winced in pain. Intending to follow up by attacking her before she had a chance to recover, he nearly tripped over his own two feet. Bracing himself after his botched lunge, he hastily withdrew from his tempered concentration. Suddenly flooded with stimulus, he vaguely heard Kenichi ask Kimiko if she was all right, to which she waved that she was fine. The two young boys were yelling some kind of chant, incoherent to him at the moment. He scanned the dojo, realizing that Auntie Akane stood in the entryway with his father. "Are you all right, Rintaro?" Reiko calmly asked him from a few feet away, off the dojo mat. He wearily turned to her, nodding his assent. She flashed a smile and he wondered why she even troubled herself. Of course he was fine, or at least well enough to continue the fight into the next century if the need should arise. He was only seriously out of breath. Easing into a defensive stance, he turned to Kimiko who know approached him with a very slight limp, favoring her left leg. Sick of having his every move countered, Rintaro awaited the girl's move. Perhaps he would have a chance to return a little of the sentiment before he knocked her senseless. "Go Kimiko!" Eiji and Shintaro's voices cried out in unison. No matter whom they cheered for, the outcome would never the less remain the same. He only hoped that it would be in his favor, because she was beginning to turn into a sadistic and evil version of the Energizer bunny. He wondered how much pain she could handle, and he also wondered if he could deal enough before being knocked unconscious himself. Time would only tell as their battle raged on. A dull pain burned in her stomach like a sizzling grill under her flesh. Nausea had already consumed her concentration and numbed her senses. The cheer echoed by the two boys seemed far away, as if they were in another room. Her body was not adjusted to the rigors of intense combat anymore, although her skill might have improved. The fact that she could not stand up to her opponent as well as she might have twenty years ago made that point blatantly evident. Kimiko had to admit that Rintaro was much more skilled than she had anticipated. She had not seen his better sense Kiyoshi, and perhaps Herb, though both of them relied heavily on their chi as well as their intense skill. He might even have been as good as she was at his age, though if one had asked her that, she would deny every word. Although something told her that she would lose to him, she would not give up, even if that meant being knocked unconscious. Some might have called it stubbornness or pride, but she knew the truth. It was her simple duty to herself to fight until her last breath was issued, and not give up until victory was utterly hers. Neither Rintaro, nor anyone else would stand in the way of that. The trip to China would correct her lack of stamina and further build her ability from the ruins which they had been after she awoke from the coma. Kiyoshi would see to that for sure. He had trained her father and Soun so long ago, and though his methods might have changed, the core essence of the man's true function still remained: that of the true master of the Anything Goes style of martial arts. Not only had the ancient man forged the school, but he was also the epitome of a martial artist now. Strong, cunning, wise and most shockingly of all, honorable, Kiyoshi Nishiyama over-shadowed his former existence like a sky scrapper blocking sunlight from spilling upon a farmer's outhouse. "Stop letting your mind wander. Concentrate on nothing but your opponent, and you will find your center. Breath slowly so he cannot time his strikes to your body's rhythm." The teachings of her father and Kiyoshi seemed to meld into one voice in Kimiko's head. "If you are not at peace, if you are at war with yourself, than how can your attacks be effective against your opponent? Find your center, Ranma. Find your peace, Kimiko. Calmly reach into yourself and you will find the energy you need to win." She had been instructed by two very different men to do the exact same thing, but she rarely could see past their words to look into the meaning. She had to stop fighting herself so that she could fight her enemy, but it had never been so obvious before. Often when she had to call the energy she needed, it had simply been there, her unconscious and focused attention upon the enemy rather than her own problems. Their voices slowly faded, placing her in reality once more, allowing her to finish the battle she had begun, providing the method to come out on top. Time had spared her not a second more, because Rintaro was already roaring towards her with the ferocity of a tiger. Unable to do more than react, she released her grip over her sore belly and defended with all of her strength, avoiding his attack more warily than she thought she had been, while carefully observing every one of his attacks, hoping that he would ditch his defense in an attempt to defeat her. In one continuous chain of fury, Rintaro proved that he had exhausted neither himself nor his repertoire in the earlier stages of their fight. His first combination of punches were very easy to block, but he did not let up his attacks even for a split second. Like a slowly accelerating train, he became an unstoppable force, one that she was far too small to derail. A powerful chop broke through her defense and grazed her forearm, and even then he continued his exhausting onslaught. He attacked her head, torso and legs all at once it seemed, driving her from the center of the mat towards the dojo's exit. Somehow, a blast struck her hip and knocked her off balance, followed by another punch to her left shoulder, both of which sent her back peddling. She simply had no chance to defend his staggering punch aimed straight towards her stomach. Gasping as the breath shot from her lungs, she stumbled, leaning forward with shocked pain. In one torturously slow moment, she realized the vulnerability of the position she involuntarily fell into. With her head down and unprotected, a single strike there could lead to unconsciousness and defeat. She knew that he would exploit it, for even a novice knew maneuvers that could easily incapacitate a foe in such a position. The one she knew that he would use, for he was entirely too predictable with his finishing moves, and in fact it was one that she preferred to use on opponents, the axe kick. Simply explained, the axe kick involved bringing your chosen foot up and around the victim's lowered head in a half circle, pausing right above the back of it. Wielding the momentum created by that, you would then drive the heel of your foot into the back of their cranium. A concussion such as that was enough to even send a hardheaded bastard like Ryouga down for the count. Though the kick could be performed in a very short amount of time, especially if you were prepared to use it, it was marginally slower than a number of the other finishing moves, which unfortunately only had half its power. As she had predicted, Rintaro began the ascent of his left foot around the left side of her in a less than perfect semi-circle, beginning a reversed axe kick. Between his rushed and sloppy kick, his decision to reverse the technique and his general exhaustion, Rintaro gave Kimiko just enough time to haphazardly throw herself to the right. The hiss of his foot slicing through the space her head had occupied and the later sound of his foot skimming the mat was sweet to her ears as she landed on her right shoulder, rolling to the side, well away from Rintaro's immediate follow up attack. Halting mere inches from the edge of the mat and the place where the spectators sat, she rested on her tender forearms, tired knees and sore toes, the only things keeping her from falling onto her chest, dead asleep. As if tired by hundreds of push-ups, she haggardly got to her feet. Her whole body ached similarly, worn to its limit and beaten far past it. Even as she balanced herself on her own two feet, watching Rintaro wearily approach, she knew that this fight was reaching its conclusion. To be defeated here in front of so many whose respect she valued would be very humiliating. She had rushed into this fight, not expecting the degree of skill Rintaro had displayed, nor mentally prepared for such a drawn out fight, part of her still in shock over the kiss and the hallucination. If she had her old durability and stamina, the young man she faced would not be walking towards her quite as well as he did now, a mask of frenzied determination still worn on his face. The words of her teachers echoed in her mind again, reminding them of their priceless lessons. Quite plainly, if she did not gather her chi to strengthen both her blows and defenses, the cold mat would be growing warm with the heat of her soft flesh. Chi, the life force flowing through her body and everything living, was harnessed by people in even the smallest of tasks, though it usually was so minute that it was hardly worth noticing. With every move she made, Kimiko harnessed both her own energy and that which surrounded her, as did the best fighters that she had faced. It was an unconscious thing on her part, but to call more than that would not be. Energy required energy and a little time, both of which she might not have. Remembering how she had found it the first time in her pursuit to learn the deceptively easy Blast Fist, she wrapped herself in layers of calm, uncaring emotion. It was not quite as hard as it had been before, and she was lucky, because Rintaro pounced. As spry as if she received a second wind, Kimiko evaded his attack, surprising him with one of her own. A chi-strengthened roundhouse kick pounding into Rintaro's back certainly dispelled any thoughts he might have had of defeating her then. Following through, she dropped and spun, having completed the circle of her kick, and swept his legs from under him with a powerful swipe. Relying upon dozens of years of falling techniques, in which she knew he would have been well schooled, he harmlessly fell to his back and rolled backwards to his feet. Not quite as lively as he had been before, Rintaro simply looked weary. With no intention of giving him even a moment to recover, she lunged forward, blurring her movement with chi-imbued speed. Had this been a street fight, Kimiko would have finished him with a Chestnut fist. Since she did not have that option, or the energy to do it, she ended her lunge with a sprawling punch to his abdomen, and then spun, knocking him across the dojo using her momentum for a vicious spin- kick. Dropping into a guarded stance, she watched him sail several yards and land on the mat, to slide across it to its end, stopping as his head met the padded wall. With the eerie calm still holding her fatigue at bay, she neutrally stared at him. She did not feel the pain she should have as she walked to check his condition with hope that the battle was now ended. Ryosei beat her to him as he rushed past her, his ponytail flopping around. The young man put a hand on Rintaro's shoulder, shaking him to see if he still remained conscious. To everyone's surprise but Kimiko's, Rintaro swatted the hand from his shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. The pony tailed boy jumped back out of the way as Rintaro pushed past him. Her vision had never seemed as clear as it did then, and every single detail of Rintaro's sweaty face appeared closer with more distinct. Slight bags darkened the skin under his pale blue eyes which glowed with something she knew must have glowed in her own at times, determination. Unlike her normal assembly of opponents, he seemed just as calm as she, just as ready to fight until the battle reaped a victor. His ashen lips curved ever so slightly downward in a perpetual frown, as if he smiled as much as he lost fights, only on a blue moon. His black brows stressed his nonchalant attitude, unmoving and straight. Somehow, she knew he was employing a similar technique that she now used to remain standing, but how long had he been manipulating his chi to act as a buffer between her fists and his body? Chi reserves were like the gasoline tanks in cars, some were deeper than others and they tended to run out before you even realized that it had happened. Pieces started fitting themselves together in her mind. If he had been using the same chi defense technique all along, her blows would have been drastically weakened by his life force. The main questions were how long had he been using it, and more importantly, how much did he have left. Hope suddenly threatened to break her shield of uncaring calm as she realized that she might still be able to win. Unfortunately, there were no gas stations for chi, and once someone expended their share they were as good as unconscious. Like a bullet, Rintaro shot towards her, negating his defense for another offense, one which would not be so successful if Kimiko had any say in the matter. Two titans clashed in the center of the mat, surrounded by unheard cheers and unnoticed concern from their spectators. Her total focus was upon him, every move, every breath, and as he began his assault, she saw her opening. As he attempted to strike, she took a reckless chance and countered, slamming her fist under and past his arm, striking the region between his left pit and left breast. It did not even faze him, and she was forced to dodge her head right, avoiding his right fist. As the blow passed her, she took the advantage of his weight being shifted so far forward, and grabbed a handful of his hair. Revenge for the pain he caused her earlier was a bitch, especially when she drove her left knee into his face. Maneuvers like that were last-ditch efforts to avoid losing, and he had used several earlier that would have been questionable for a sparring match. This obviously was not a sparring match. It was a challenge. Challenges were met with full force. She definitely did not feel so bad about it when he bashed her with his left shoulder, pushing it upwards into her left breast. Pain nearly shattered the chi barrier drawn around herself, but she ignored it focusing on defeating this tank. With her right foot, she brought it to the side and drove her heel into his left thigh. Kimiko sent Rintaro to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut with one well-placed kick, but he landed well and quickly rolled to his feet, well before Kimiko could stabilize herself. The young man winced as he stood straight, nearly falling to the floor again. Suddenly as if reality had broken through his veil of fighting, he looked confused, tired and very hurt. Kimiko saw it in his eyes as he fought to stand and face her: pain. He had taken the fight so casually and unconcerned up to this point that she had wondered if he was human. Now, with his chi burnt, his defense down and his vulnerability peaked, she could win. In less than ten seconds, she could bring him to his knees and safely knock him unconscious. Unfortunately, it was ten seconds she might not have. As if she had just noticed her fuel gauge read empty, Kimiko's teeth chattered with the effort to maintain her energy. Ten seconds or no ten seconds, she lunged forward, more from imbalance than effort, and struck forward with a punch, which he managed to block. Her knees gave out as blackness assaulted her vision, and she concentrated a punch to his stomach as she descended to the mat. She felt the resistance of his stomach muscles give way and the sudden ache of her fist. More pain flooded her body as her head slapped to the mat. It was a delayed reaction from all the stress her body endured while in her chi-invoked frenzy. She felt so very tired as the cool mat rubbed against her cheek as her head finally rested in place. There seemed to be nothing left, not even a little energy so that she could push herself up and claim victory. Though she was utterly drained, somehow she managed to draw her arms up and push herself a few feet off the floor. Her arms, not to mention her whole body, felt dead tired, and they began to buckle under her weight. Collapsing for the last time, she managed to roll over her right arm and onto her back. The burning white light of the dojo did not bother her eyes much for they were closing of their own accord. Euphoria rushed through her body, the elation of release from prolonged stress. Had she the strength, she would have been shaking, having spent so long with adrenaline flooding her veins. The pain felt worlds away as she began to drift to unconsciousness. * * * Pride swelled through Genma Saotome as he watched the fight continue, though both fighters had already fallen in pain several times. He felt the pride for his son, although the boy did not live up to all his expectations, but most of all, he took joy that the daughter of his lost son was only as strong as he hoped she could be. There was little to no doubt in his mind now about her identity. No one else living other than a Saotome could have taught her half of the moves she was using now. Taking a seat near his youngest son, Genma watched the two trade blows once more. It still amazed him how strong his granddaughter was. She was at least a capable match for Rintaro and was more than any two of the other children, all who had been tutored under Akane, Soun, Shampoo, Ryouga, Mousse and himself. Ranma had turned Kimiko into a fierce fighter who could probably give one of the adults a run for their money. It pleased him infinitely to see that his training of Ranma had turned Ranma's daughter into the fighter that she had become. "I know that plotting look in your eyes, Uncle Genma," Akane whispered into his ear after she had sat down next to him. He turned to face her, smiling innocently, as innocently as he could manage anyway, but it only made him look like a child caught with his hand stuck in the candy jar. "I don't know what you're talking about, Akane," he replied, lying through his teeth. She stared at him wryly, her arms crossed over her chest. Genma turned back to the fight for a moment, wondering what he really was planning. He and Soun had talked about Kimiko, or more precisely drank themselves into a stupor, until the early hours of the morning, but they never once discussed what they were going to do, only about how wonderful things had become. All he knew was that he needed to contact young Kiyoshi Nishiyama and extract whatever information he could on the situation. It was well known that Nobukazu Nishiyama had never had children of his own, but instead relied on adoption to sate his need to be a father. Since the man had always been so wonderful with children, it was too bad his relationships with women never amounted to anything. Genma imagined the fortune one of his own could have inherited had their children been promised with Nobukazu's. Therefore, Nobukazu had somehow adopted Kimiko in the United States, likely where Ranma had fled. Did that mean his son was dead? Or maybe Ranma and Nobukazu had trained the girl, and Nobukazu alone had brought her up? It was entirely too confusing, but the point remained that Kimiko Nishiyama had to be a Saotome, and Ranma had to have trained her. Nothing else could fill in the blanks as well as that answer did. Had Genma been sent twenty years into the past, he would have been watching Ranma's girl half fight his boy half. "Do you really think that she's his, Uncle?" Akane asked him softly, not allowing herself to be overheard by prying ears. "Even if they do look alike, I'm sure it could be a coincidence." "No one else could have taught her those moves," Genma replied, studying Kimiko as he spoke the words. No one else could have carried out those moves either, he thought silently to himself. Even after the beating she had received, she still fought with equal ferocity. If she and Rintaro continued this match as they were, they would both have to be carried to bed. He could not have been any more proud. "I think you're right," Akane whispered with a sigh, sounding incredibly depressed. "I was only foolishly hoping it couldn't be so." Genma looked at her, realizing the pain she must be feeling finding out that someone she had loved so long ago had a child with someone other than her. He felt the pain himself that Ranma had not told anyone. He had already forgiven the boy, but he wondered if Akane could ever forgive him. Twenty years was enough to diminish the pain, not extinguish it. Putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, Genma continued watching the fight. He could not think of anything to console her pain and remained silent instead. So caught in their glee, he and Soun had forgotten about Akane's feelings, and everyone else's for that matter. When Kimiko had left the group of adults, Nodoka had immediately pointed out Kimiko's resemblance to Ranma. Tofu agreed after a moment of thought, though the rest of them left their agreement unspoken. His wife had left it at that and went to help Shampoo in the kitchen, since Akane had given up wasting ingredients, which left the three men and Akane. He and Akane left to watch the fight after she had helped Kimiko slip into something dry, while Tofu and Soun played shoji. "We should stop this fight," Akane told him, wincing as Kimiko barely dodged Ryosei's axe kick. "Why should we do that?" Genma asked, honestly confused. "One of them might get hurt," she replied, glaring at him. "They're taking this way too seriously for a casual sparring session." "I don't see why-" he began when Akane's jaw dropped in astonishment. Genma raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" "Watch the fight, baka," Akane muttered, pointing at Kimiko. "I think she got a second wind." Genma curiously turned to the fight, and indeed, she walked with vigor in her steps that had not been there moments ago. His son approached her without caution and that made Genma want to slap the boy for making such a stupid mistake. Dodging the careless boy's attack, Kimiko nailed his son with a roundhouse kick, and then ducked low and spun, sweeping his legs from under him and knocking him to the mat. "I think your son's going to lose," Akane told him dryly. Genma knew the outcome of this fight, even before it began. His son, Ranma, burned within Kimiko, Genma knew then, as Rintaro rolled to his feet. She darted towards the boy so fast that she blurred for a moment before unleashing a volley of attacks on Rintaro, who at the end flew head first towards where other kids were sitting. They had to jump out of the way to let Rintaro slide to a halt as his head bumped the wall. The elderly man watched the girl of whom he believed to be his granddaughter walk very slowly, one step at a time towards his fallen son. Such calm and such discipline, Genma thought with mirth. He turned back to his son who was just pushing himself to his feet. Rintaro would most certainly try to finish the fight now, before he took any more damage, Genma felt. The way Kimiko stood across from him made him uneasy. She was not even gasping for breath like she had been earlier. It was almost as if she were refreshed completely sometime during the fight. His son lanced towards her, still unmindful of Genma's teachings. He should have learned that he had no chance to defeat her with any straightforward attacks, the elder chastised internally, especially after the beating the boy received. As much as he wanted his son to not be defeated, Genma wanted Kimiko to win more. She was proof that his son, Ranma, had not been a failure, no matter what had happened in the end. His eldest must have trained this fiery little girl before him. His heart pumped quickly as the thought sent warmth flowing through his body. Children were a father's second chance at life, to become the people they were not. The two fighters moved so quickly that Genma could not distinguish one attack from another, and then Kimiko's knee pummeled Rintaro's face. "Oh, God," Akane whispered, putting a hand on Genma's shoulder. Placing his hand atop hers, Genma kept his eyes on the fight. "They boy will be all right." Following with his words, Rintaro bashed Kimiko with his shoulder, but she barely even registered the blow only stepping back to regain her balance, though he heard a collective gasp from the female audience. Even Akane hissed, muttering, "That'll hurt in the morning." The next second, Rintaro fell straight to the ground, barely able to roll back from his assailant. Genma saw his face as he rose, pale and haggard, exhaustion perceptible on his face. The old man knew that his son was finished for the day. Just as surprising as his son's upset, Kimiko stumbled forward in a botched attempt to rush Rintaro. The dark-haired boy swung his fists poorly, just missing as Kimiko fell underneath his blow, and then fell back as Kimiko's final punch was delivered to his stomach. He fell backwards to the mat only a split second after Kimiko did. "Kimiko!" A voice yelled. As Genma had begun to stand, he watched Kenichi dart over the mat and slide to his knees at Kimiko's left side. Akane passed Genma on his right and quickly walked over to his son's side, while he slowly padded over the cool surface of the blue mat to the downed warriors. Was it a tie, then? Genma wondered to himself. "Rintaro's out cold," Akane told them, gingerly draping a hand over the boy. They all turned as Kimiko began to push herself from the mat, her arms straining against the exhaustion, but she fell over and landed on her back, her narrow eyes fighting to remain open. As she closed her eyes, unconscious, a smile flushed Genma's face. She had won. As Kimiko's body shuddered one last time, her eyes fighting against the wave of blackness washing upon her consciousness, Kenichi knelt by her side, and caressed her soft cheek with the back of his finger tips. Her breath was stable but slowed, and she looked so peaceful, so innocent, and so harmless. Appearances were deceiving, because he knew that had she not exhausted herself so, she would have been able to disable him even in the vulnerable position that she lay in now. He smiled thinking about that, because he had never seen her like. How many days have I known her? He wondered to himself. Three? What was three days that made him fall so terribly in love with her? She was his Juliet, and he her Romeo, in his mind, but he wanted to know whether Juliet loved Romeo. They shared the moment in the airport, exchanging names, the starry night before he wished her good- bye, and now the kiss. Did any of them mean anything to her? He could not help pondering. Kenichi looked up to see his sister and Ryosei lifting Rintaro's unconscious body. "Damn, he's heavy," Mayako complained, lifting the young man by his shoulders. "I offered to take that side, ya know," Ryosei quipped, holding a leg under each arm. "I can do it!" Mayako snapped, allowing Ryosei to lead him out of the dojo. Just then, Kenichi felt someone tapping his shoulder. He turned and muttered, "Huh?" "Need help with her?" Akane asked, gesturing towards the girl in front of him, with a wry smile on her face. Shaking his head vigorously, Kenichi quickly moved to lift Kimiko up. Sliding his right hand under to support her shoulders, he, with more than a little embarrassment, slid the other under her butt to support the other side. Expecting to lift more weight than she had, he applied too much pressure into hoisting her up than he should have, nearly falling over backwards as he stood tried to balance himself. "You all right, Kenichi?" his mother asked slyly as he regained his balance. "Of course," he replied. "She doesn't weight nearly as much as I thought she would." With an all-knowing grin, his mother took a step to stand in front of him. "She's a girl. What did you expect?" Kenichi wisely kept silent. Taking Kimiko's arm, she rested it on the girl's chest with the other to keep it from dangling as Kenichi walked. She then took a step back and turned to exit the dojo. Kenichi followed, carrying his soft, not-quite-heavy weight. Kimiko's soft breath tickled Kenichi's neck as he carried her out of the dojo and into the house. He smiled warmly at her, as if it could somehow reach her in her unconscious state. Her rapid eye movement caught his attention for a second, but he disregarded it as he took her up the steps, still following his mother, and down the hall to stop at his room. "Mind if we put her in your bed for now, Kenichi?" Akane asked her son as she took the doorknob of his door. The boy shook his head in response to his mother's question. "Good, because I think Mayako and Ryosei already placed Rintaro in her bed." Without another word, she opened his door and walked inside where the lamps promptly began spilling light into the dark room. "Where do you want me to put this stuff?" Akane asked with her hands on her hips. Kenichi looked over to where his mother was referring. He had left a mess of his paints all over his bed, a pad of sketch paper and some colored pencils. "Just put them on the ground in the corner." While Akane began clearing his bed, Kenichi shifted Kimiko to hold her in a more comfortable position. In response, she mumbled and carelessly wrapped her arms around his neck, almost as if she were awake, ready to pull him into a kiss. His heart skipped a beat as she snuggled up to him. With her eyebrows furrowed in frustration and a cute frown on her face, she whispered one word. In fact, it was a name. "Juniji." As he wondered who that might be, his mother turned to face him with a scowl on her face. "What is it, Mom?" With her left hand on her hip, Akane pointed at his bed. Taking a step forward, he looked down at the green comforter and noticed the large black stain in its center. With a sheepish smile, he shrugged. "There is a reason we bought you a desk, Kenichi." As if contemplating the matter, Kenichi hummed aloud. "I think it looks better this way." Rolling her eyes, his mother tugged the comforter from the top of his bed and turned it over. Smoothing it out and tucking it in with the swift expertise that only a mother can have, she quickly made the bed ready for use. Patting the bed with her right hand, Akane motioned for him to lay Kimiko down. Kenichi did as he was instructed and then gingerly placed the pillow beneath her head. He then took a blanket from underneath his bed and rested it over her, tucking her in. It took no more than five seconds for the redhead to begin snoring softly. "I'm going to go check on Rintaro," Akane told him, resting on hand on his shoulder. "Okay," he replied softly, standing as she turned to leave. The door closed with a click, signaling his mother's exit. Sitting on his knees, Kenichi watched silently as the redhead slept soundly. Her chest gently rose and fell, as seconds became minutes. The steady ticking of his old-fashioned wall clock went unnoticed. Kenichi pushed his fingers through his short-cropped black hair, feeling the dampness from his shower earlier. Although all was still, his heart beat quickly. Sliding over to the bed, Kenichi leaned over and rested his chin and elbows on its edge. Just then, Kimiko turned in her sleep, resting her head less than a foot from his face. If only I could lean forward and kiss her, Kenichi thought to himself. She seemed so real with her mouth slightly ajar, a very slight whistle sounding from her nose and an occasional snore heard from her mouth, but she still was a fantasy to him. Inwardly, he knew that he would never kiss her when she was not conscious, but only because she would not be able to savor it with him. Leaning closer, he felt his body tremble slightly as his lips pressed against her forehead. As if reacting to Kenichi as he withdrew his kiss, Kimiko arched her head back and ever so softly whispered, "I love you." If her eyes had been open, he might have believed the words had been spoken to him. Although they were not, the simple notion of it sent him reeling back onto his rear, hands pressed to the wood floor. He watched as she wedged her hands between her head and the pillow, whispering too low to hear. Realizing that he needed to leave her before she drove him mad desire, Kenichi stood and left his room, closing the door behind him. Pausing at the door to Mayako's room before he walked down the stairs, he knocked softly. "Come in," Mayako's voice sounded from within. Cracking the door open, Kenichi peeked in as soft lamplight spilled out of the room. His sister stood nearby, while his mother leaned over Rintaro who lay asleep on the bed. Quietly stepping through the doorway, he smiled at his sister. "What is it, brother?" Mayako asked meekly, smiling back. He knew why her mood was changed for the better. She had lived in Rintaro's shadow -- or so she had whined to him many times -- for so long, that she probably felt that his defeat was just. "I just came to check on'im," he replied, peering past her at Rintaro. "Will he be okay?" "He'll be fine," Akane told him warmly. "Cool," Kenichi responded with nod. With nothing left to say, he turned and left the room, walking downstairs, through the hall and into the living room. Nearly everyone in his extended family sat in the room, making it appear quite crowded. He took in the scene before entering, and realized that even his Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Mousse had shown up already, as they both sat on Kenichi's left with his Uncle Genma and Tofu, and his Grandfather, all talking between themselves. Nearer to the dining table, Mai sat on Reiko's lower back, giving the older girl a massage. Between the adults and the girls, Ryosei was playing a game of shoji with Shintaro and Eiji, although none of them, including Ryosei, knew the rules of the game. Noise from the kitchen signaled that Aunt Shampoo and Aunt Nodoka were most likely at work. Walking over to the two girls, Kenichi plopped down beside them. Mai turned and smiled shyly, though Reiko seemed oblivious to him. Mayako's hands methodically rubbed the older girl's exposed back and shoulders with the skill of a professional, and he knew she was, because he could hear the quiet moans uttered by Reiko. "Wanna go next?" Mai asked him while she continued Reiko's deep massage. "Sure," he accepted. "Tell me when you're done." Mai nodded. Sliding over to Ryosei and the boys, he sat. The pony tailed boy turned to face Kenichi with a grin, his eyes filled with mischief. It was that look in his eyes that got the both of them detention last year when Ryosei decided to skip school and bring Kenichi with him. How could he have said no when Ryosei offered to pay for his admittance into the fair that day? "What?" Kenichi asked dubiously. "You're the man," Ryosei told him with that grin still on his face. "I can't believe my best friend has already got to first base with a chick!" Somehow, Kenichi knew that Ryosei would find out, but so soon? "Who told you?" He realized he sounded a little annoyed, but could not help it. "Rintaro saw ya both in the koi pond," Ryosei said, tugging his ponytail. Turning to the boys who did their father and grandfather proud by completely reworking the face of the board to their advantage, as if it mattered any to him any, Ryosei moved a random piece in a random direction. "So, you're really hooked on this girl." Of course it would be Rintaro, Kenichi thought as he nodded to Ryosei's statement. "Man, if you marry her, you'll go broke," Ryosei said, moving three more pieces, further proving that the two boys and he were in the same division of shoji players. "Why do you say that?" Kenichi asked perplexed by Ryosei's statement. It almost matched with Rintaro's warning earlier that day, counseling him not to mess with the redhead at all. "Why would I go broke?" "She eats as much as Uncle Genma," Ryosei whispered in hushed tones. Kenichi was almost glad that the boy did not say it too loud, but when he added, "Plus, you're not a good enough martial artist to make any real cash," Kenichi gave up trying to take his friend seriously. "That must be it," Kenichi mumbled. "Yeah, but at least you'll be happy," Ryosei said, moving another piece on the board. Almost scared to hear his answer, Kenichi asked, "Why's that?" Feigning to be stunned by Kenichi's need for clarification, Ryosei arched an eyebrow. "Need you ask?" Kenichi nodded, causing him shake his head in exasperation. His reply came as a whisper, but with good reason. "Have you checked out her body? My God man, you can't ask for a better butt. And have you see those breasts? Jeez, I always thought you were blind to the opposite sex, but this is ridiculous." A tap on his shoulder nearly made him jump in surprise. He turned, ignoring Ryosei, and faced Mai. "Your turn, Kenichi!" she piped with a smile. Following her back to where Reiko had been lying, Kenichi prostrated himself. He felt Mai's small hands lift his shirt back past his shoulders, sliding her hands against his bare skin, sending a shiver down his spine. She then climbed over him and sat on his lower back, gently pressing her bare thighs, exposed by her shorts, into his ribs. Ignoring everything else as she began, he rested his head on his right arm and closed his eyes. Her dexterous hands started to work on his shoulders, sending ripples of warmth through him. Between her mother and her father, Mai had obtained some of their more favorable skills. Dr. Tofu was one of the best chiropractors in Japan, and her mother was definitely one to go to for learning any type of pressure points. It was no small wonder that she had become such a talented masseuse. If there was one thing he liked most about Mai, it was her ability to mix the best features of everything she was taught and find another application for it. Neither Dr. Tofu, nor Shampoo were this good, as their professions and skills led them to different uses for their talents. As she applied her thumbs to pressure points, he felt the tension releasing and sighed very softly. Imagining that it was Kimiko massaging him instead of Mai, he smiled, though his arm hid his face. An image of her began to form as she had been in the koi pond, virtually attached to him. He had felt so alive in her arms. It was as if he lived to exist for that moment in time, to feel so close to someone, to share so much without words. Her crystalline green eyes shining brilliantly in the sunlight still confused him, but he tried not to think about it, although he distinctly remembered them being deep blue. A very interesting thought occurred to him then as Mai worked his lower back. He might never get a second chance if he did not act upon his instincts, but the girl on his back was persuasion enough to wait another few minutes. The one aspect of Kenichi Tendou that never seemed to turn off would not leave him alone for a moment, and now it was screaming for him to act. The sound his sister made next completely stole Kenichi's attention. It was a mix of pleasure and surprise that took his concentration as he looked up to face her shins. "I'm next!" Mayako exclaimed, sitting down directly in front of Kenichi, crossing her legs. "Okay," Mai chirped, not letting up the massage for even a second. "Got tired of taking care of your lover boy?" Kenichi teased, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "I could never get tired of seeing Rintaro beaten up," she replied smartly, patting his head. "I'm surprised you got tired of taking care of your lover girl." Kenichi intelligently remained silent to the remark as Mai turned herself around, sliding every inch of her bare legs across his back. He thought nothing of it as she began massaging his legs. "Are you planning to go out with her anytime soon?" Mayako asked quietly, playfully ruffling his hair. "I haven't asked," he replied honestly, wishing he had asked her already. "Why?" "Just curious," she said, poking his forehead. "I mean, you've already kissed her and you haven't even gone out yet." Grabbing her hand, Kenichi pulled his sister close enough for him to whisper his message. "Don't spread that around, okay?" Shaking his hand reassuringly, she replied, "Sure, sure. I wouldn't have anyway. I was just making a point." As if it were any encouragement, she added, "Don't fret. It's me!" "That's why I asked," he told her, deadpan. "I have your word." "Done," Mai told him, turning around again. She then dragged his shirt down his back slowly, causing him to squirm uncomfortably as she brushed a ticklish spot. "You're cured, Kenichi." She then stood up, giving him space to stand. "Thanks, Mai," he told her as he pushed himself to his feet, and then hugged her. "That felt great." "Oh, no problem," Mai sighed as Kenichi released her. "My turn!" Mayako asserted, quickly lying where Kenichi had been before. With a smile, Kenichi turned and left the living room, waving to his Aunt Kasumi who smiled at him as he passed into the hall. Sprinting up the stairs, he quickly rushed into his room, closing the door as he entered. Kimiko lied there twisted in the blankets and with one arm hanging over the bed. He chuckled softly as he quickly gathered the supplies and colors that he would need for this project. There was no doubt in his mind that he would give his full one hundred percent effort. The redhead's image deserved nothing but the best. Since it was still late noon, he figured that he had plenty of time to at least finish the preliminaries before night descended. Already scratching away on a pad of paper, Kenichi submitted to the demands of his insatiable imagination. * * * Darkness surrounded me completely, and there was no light. I felt myself floating in that void, but I knew that it was real, and that I was real. An unnatural lethargy coursed through me, making my thoughts disjointed and blurred. In an attempt to focus my energy, I tried to mentally picture Akane, but all that I could manage was an image, which was so poor it looked like I was staring through a foggy glass window to see it. I racked my brain for something, trying to think of an explanation. Confusion was all I could find. Bits and pieces of memories floated by, but made no sense and left me with more questions than answers. I knew myself, at least, but where was I? Kimiko Nishiyama, I thought, reciting my name, hoping the sound of it would unlock something. But no, that was not right. It sounded right, but it just did not click, or help. If only I was not so tired, I might have been able to pull myself from wherever I was trapped. Paralysis was the least of my problems though, because I could not sense anything, not even my own body, though I knew it was there. A thought occurred to me then, as I floated somewhere beyond the physical world. This is familiar, I thought. This has happened before. I know this feeling. Lady Sun Li. Juniji. I remembered those names, and the episode between them. There had been a moment in between my reality and theirs where I was trapped, floating like I floated now. Maybe I was on the black, empty path to another. At least I hoped that was the case, because it was much better than nothing, than the emptiness I was stuck within now. I could not have been any more correct as a warm light out of the corner of my vision appeared, beginning its approach. Noise, like the sound of running through thick brush, echoed in the distance, originating from the approaching beacon of dreams and memories. It steadily drew closer until I could feel its edges, escaping heat from a warm body and thick beads of sweat. It smelled too, like heavy perspiration and unshowered bodies. Though I had recognized it for what it was, I was wrong in the assumption that it was approaching. In fact, it was pulling me towards it with hands of luminescence, its life-giving arms enwrapping me. Thoughts and emotions hit me first, like a jackhammer smashing my skull with information, paramount among it, absolute fear. Slowly, like before, I became aware. The soreness of my legs came next, along with oxygen deprived lungs, weary from exertion. Sweat covered my brow and drenched my hair as the exhaustion became entirely too evident. I was running, forever running, to where I knew not. The sun had set long ago, for the darkness of night shadowed the land, one that moonlight did not even penetrate. With my arm outstretched, I held the hand of another who pulled me forward, faster than I could run. I had tripped before, and the knee of my left leg was skinned. The figure in front of me was nothing more than a blur that held my hand tightly. "Please hurry!" he urged, yanking me with the intensity of his words as well as his hand. It was Juniji's voice. I remembered it from before. "I am!" I -- or rather, Sun Li -- shouted back, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. The danger was near, and time was running out. Again I was trapped in another, doomed to her fate, rather than being able to control mine. A savage cry tore the air from behind them, and its maniacal, blood-crazed pitch injected pure terror into her heart. Only a few times in my life have I experienced such a maddening drive, although this time it was not mine. I had to remember that as Sun Li desperately ran, carrying me along for the ride. With frightening suddenness, they entered a well-lit clearing. Everything stopped at once, like someone had pressed the pause button, though Sun Li's heart raced as she gasped for air. Her vision cleared somewhat, enough to make out the details in my immediate surroundings. No more than twenty feet in front of them, a wooden sign hung high above their heads, suspended between two wooden posts. Beyond that, water twinkled in the pale moonlight, a break in the clouds surrounding the region ahead. Our two souls in unison recognized the ancient, cursed place. Juniji urged her forward, but against his strong pull, she stood fast. "What?" The young warrior turned, his eyes wide and desperate. "Why do you stop?" "We cannot enter there!" Sun Li exclaimed, returning the look in his eyes. "Why in the name of gods not?" he demanded, twisting to look at the radiant springs ahead. "That's Jusenkyou!" she cried. She knew that he would need further explanation, so she hurriedly continued. "It is cursed, the home of many demons and evil beings! It is part of the forbidden land, the heart of it!" "I do not care if it is hell itself!" he yelled back, anger contorting his features. "I will not let you, let alone I, die in this miserable region of the Earth! You will follow me by foot or over my shoulder!" When he pulled her again, she ceased her resistance, unwilling to give him up, even against all the demons of Jusenkyou, not when they were so close to fulfilling their dreams. His mad dash was too much for her as he ran past the spring-filled valley, and he ended up picking her up in his arms anyway. With his speed so drastically decreased and the time lost from her interlude of protest, the enemy was almost upon them, for the voice of one man cried out in maddened fury. Juniji quickly placed Sun Li on the ground and drew his sword, all in one movement it seemed to me. He turned just in time to ward the attack of his opponent. The dance of two blades had begun with the ferocity of the attacker. The only thing the warrior could do at first was defend, parrying the intense slashes launched at him. I could not see the person even with the moonlight shining down from above, though perhaps I did not want to. Fatigue and fear overwhelmed us, Sun Li and I, and she fell on her rear, far enough from the battle to be safe for a time. With her eyes glued to the battle, she breathed for dear life, each inhale paining her deeply. When it was all over, she would be away from this horrible place, across the seas and safe in Juniji's homeland. Or maybe they would flee to the west and whatever lay there. She ached for the days ahead, without fear and frustration, where she could make love to him without apprehension, where they could live, happily ever after. Turning the tables on the shadowed man, Juniji began his counter offensive. Almost immediately, she heard his blade slice flesh. An ecstatic sob gushed from her mouth as Juniji launched attack after attack at the man. With a sickening thud, her lover's sword pierced the heart of his attacker, who then fell to the ground. I wished that I could have cried out a cheer for the warrior, but Sun Li only remained there as she began to shake since the adrenaline had drained her completely. Withdrawing his blade from his opponent's corpse, Juniji exhaled as if he had held his breath throughout the entire battle. He then wiped the sword on the clothes of his fallen foe twice, on each side. Time slowed to a crawl as he turned, victorious and alive. The grin on his face displayed the cockiness he must have felt, downing an enemy after running nearly five miles without stop. I clearly saw his face then, so familiar to me that I would have gasped in shock had I been able. His sapphire blue eyes twinkled by the light of the moon, radiating his love for Sun Li. He only wore a tight, long-sleeved undershirt and voluminous black trousers, his bare feet covered with the blood of his enemy, and his bare hands wielding his shiny steel, family katana. Broad shoulder and arm muscles could barely be contained within the unassuming white shirt. He pushed one hand through his short black hair, ruffling it a bit. "He was nothing," Juniji bragged, nearing Sun Li, ready to take her on the trip to leave China as he had promised. Standing before her, he reached out one hand to help her up. As his sweaty hand gripped hers, movement from behind him took Sun Li's attention. She had time to cry out in warning, but he did not have time to react. The blade entered his back and protruded from his left breast. With blood and metal pouring from his chest, his eyes locked on hers, and she stared back. "Lily..." he whispered with his final breath, his hand relaxing in hers. "No!" Sun Li screamed as the blade was extracted from her lover's chest. He fell like a rag doll, landing in front of her in a heap. Crawling to his side, she whispered in fierce denial. "No, Juniji...don't leave me..." Propping herself on his side, she leaned over his face, tears dropping upon it, even as warm blood soaked her dress. "Wake up, Juniji! You can't die. You promised! I love you..." Sobbing uncontrollably, she collapsed on top of him. "I can't live without you." "You are right," a raspy, tired voice replied from behind her. "You are so right, Lady Sun Li. I will show you how right you are." Strength coursed through her veins and she stood. Ready to throw herself on the demon's blade, she turned. Only the moon stood out, though, with the endless pools of water glittering in every direction. Surprised, she took a tottering step backwards. The soft slope of the ground beneath her foot gave way, and she slipped. Shrieking one last time, Sun Li connected with the incredibly cold water. It quickly swallowed her up, like the gaping jaws of a hungry beast turning its prey into a feast. Disoriented by the severity of the cold, she sunk to the bottom of the pool, but she quickly regained enough sense to push against the water's bed and propel herself upward. Instead of breaking surface, her head struck it, as if a thick layer of ice entrapped her within the pool, only there was no visible barrier. Staring through the crystal clear water, air beckoned her, promising its sweet nectar to her oxygen-deprived lungs. She struck it once, twice and three times, but the invisible shield remained. The horror of drowning alive was like none I had ever experienced before, nor one I would likely know again. The cold quickly numbed all sensation, but that of the raging need for air. It was a maddening need that drove away all reason, all sanity. Sun Li's torturous suffering did not take long to end, but an eternity it seemed to me, gasping but breathing in nothing but water, struggling but striking nothing but glass, and sinking after both of those failed. As horribly as it began, it ended. I supposed that I should have either died with her, or awoken from this miserable nightmare, but neither happened. It felt like the darkness, but with light of the moon shining from above. Sun Li had been silenced forever, and yet I remained in her lifeless body. The stillness did not last for long though, and I began to rise, lifting out of her and out of the pond, finally resting upon its surface. A dislocated spirit, I had become, gazing out at the expanse of Jusenkyou. Twisting around, I stared down into the chilly pool. Sun Li lay at the bottom, her long black hair drifting about as if she free fell from a cliff, but in slow motion. Her dirtied white dress, once a priceless heirloom, now remained nothing more than a tattered burial gown. Her sightless green eyes stared ever up at me, haunting my soul. And that was when I had a realization, one that sent me mentally reeling. Beneath me lay the drowned young girl whose pool I fell into two decades ago. It also was the body of the ghost I had come to know as Lily...similar to that of her lover's last word, Lily. Remembering the fallen warrior, Juniji, I rushed to his corpse. Lying in the same position as Sun Li had left him, he still stared at his lover. I stopped next to him, staring at his face. I knew that face. It was as if he had reached out into reality and stole it from me, robbing it as my curse had become permanent. It was my eyes that had dimmed there and my body that had been punctured, lying still beside me. I shuddered in surprise as it spoke with my voice. "Now you understand..." * * * The meeting of the Nishiyama, Inc. financial group concluded at five o'clock. That particular division of Nishiyama, Inc., was made up of six of the most enthusiastic and brilliant businessmen and women in Japan, headed by Nabiki Tendou, the Vice-president of the business' Japanese headquarters. Two years ago had been the last time that Kiyoshi Nishiyama had visited the Japanese headquarters of his corporation. In that time, it had not changed one bit. Unfortunately his memory of the building's layout was poor, so simply finding the right department and the right floor took well over ten minutes. Locating his office was not nearly as hard, since it was on a floor of its own. Furniture within the office was sparse, considering that its uses was a billionaire, but Kiyoshi never really cared for lavish conditions, and it did not really matter since he rarely used the place. Six pairs of eyes had all lowered nearly simultaneously when he had entered, and six bodies all bowed in respect for their employer. Kiyoshi Nishiyama had then taken a seat and listened for nearly six hours as almost every aspect of the company was explained to him. If he had more questions than the few he had asked, he would have been up there until eight or even nine. Usawa Kuranai -- no relation to Tsubasa -- was the current President of the Japanese corporation, and yet he had stayed very quiet through the meeting, Kiyoshi thought now that he had time to do so. The fact that Kuranai was seventy and turning seventy-one in August probably had less to do with his silence than the fact that he seemed to be no more than a figurehead now. Nabiki Tendou had made it quite clear that she ran things around here during her hour and a half presentation. The girl -- no, the woman, he corrected himself -- looked the same as she had when she began for Nobukazu's esteemed organization, about the same time Kiyoshi had found himself being adopted into it nearly ten years ago. Not even a wrinkle tainted her tanned white skin, even though she was now in her mid-thirties. At the time Kiyoshi joined, his position within Nishiyama, Inc., was rather small. Intelligence and subterfuge were his specialties, though his official title in the company was something like "Head Clerk" or some other nonsense. His body was young, although his spirit was ancient, and he was merely a messenger, earning his living as honestly as he could possibly manage. There was very little leniency in the cruel world for an aged martial artist who appeared to be a thirteen-year-old, and that held particularly true in his new home, California. He was very thankful that his body had aged normally. Six years ago, everything had changed. His knowledge of who the CEO had been was virtually nonexistent. It did not matter who the boss was as long as Kiyoshi had been paid on time and his job did not include murder, theft or anything that would lead back to the life of crime that Kiyoshi had assumed in his previous body. It was hardly a bad job, and it even allowed him to travel to and from Japan. Nabiki had become an executive by then, and he remembered a few times she called him to send a message, or learn as much as he could about a certain target. The last time she asked for his service was the last month of his low status within the corporation. He still remembered the night he was to deliver a message to Nobukazu Nishiyama to the smallest detail, including the scene of that life-altering event. Called to take some crucial information to the CEO himself, at the elderly man's own house no less, Kiyoshi had walked in, or more precisely climbed in, and left the note on the man's desk. The informant had been specific on the fact that Nobukazu was not to be disturbed and that his entrance needed to be discrete. So, unable to avoid fate, Kiyoshi had turned to leave by the window he had entered, but a voice stopped him. "Wait a moment," Nobukazu had ordered in Japanese from his chair in the corner of the room. "What is your name?" "Kiyoshi," the young man had replied. "What is your family name?" "I have no family," Kiyoshi had said, describing his situation in those four words better than any other explanation could have. "You are one of the orphans then?" The old man had asked, almost rhetorically, but still waited for an answer. "Yes," Kiyoshi had lied, though he knew nothing about the ones Nobukazu had spoken of. The questions had ranged from when's and where's, to details about his life. Kiyoshi's cover story, which was very close to the truth, had been enough to sate his employer's curiosity. "I had a son once," the old man had told him. "Unfortunately, he died in the war. His son, my grandson, and his wife whom he had taken in China were all said to be dead. Missing in action were the words I was told. My grandchild would probably be nineteen now." "I am sorry for your loss," Kiyoshi had replied, but the old man waved him off. "Don't be. It has been thirteen years since then. I have shed every tear and every sorrow that I could possibly have for them. They are with God now." Nobukazu had been an active Christian, Kiyoshi would later find out. "I did not stop you from leaving so that I may learn about an employee, or even to force you to have a conversation with a lonely old man. This is the reason." Approaching him in a wheel chair, Nobukazu had clutched in his hands a framed picture, and he held it out for Kiyoshi to take as he drew near. He quickly took it and examined it in the faint light. With a child held piggyback, a Japanese soldier in his mid-twenties was pictured with a beautiful Chinese woman, both smiling at the camera. It was unremarkable in itself, except for one point. The young man had short black hair, steel-gray eyes and was quite tall for one of Japanese descent. He was quite handsome dressed in his U.S. Navy uniform, but would have been regardless of dress. It might as well have been a picture of Kiyoshi himself a few years from then. Kiyoshi had looked up, his eyes demanding an explanation. "My son, his wife and their six-year old son," Nobukazu had explained. Their eyes had locked for a moment, and the hard edge in Kiyoshi's eyes softened in the face of Nobukazu. Albeit aged significantly, there had been no doubt in Kiyoshi's eyes that the man before him was the father of the one in the picture. Kiyoshi had left after that, but was told to come back one week from that day and meet the old man, by one of the stateside executives upon his return to his office. One week passed and Kiyoshi made his appointment, using the door this time. A beautiful young lady, who later would become one of his dearest friends, had met him at the door. She had lead him to Nobukazu's study, where the old man waited with a young man in a white physician's coat. Suspicion flared in Kiyoshi, but he had allowed the doctor to draw several vials of blood. He had nothing to hide and doubted they knew anything about his actual identity. That had been all that they demanded, so he quickly left, pondering the strange turn of events. Remembering that he was but a mere ninja who was but one unit of an extensive clan, he waited to see what fate held in store for him. If everything began unraveling, he would have simply gathered the little money he had stashed away and disappeared for a decade or two. His preparations had proven entirely unnecessary, for he was called for another meeting the very next day. That time the old man was alone in his study. He had beckoned him to take the paper on his desk, which Kiyoshi took and examined. The note contained a scrawl of information, but there were two distinct categories, both with nearly identical numbers on each side. Two of them were circled in both categories with the English word "match" written in bright red and circled. "You are my grandson," Nobukazu had stated very slowly. "What you told me of your early life in China, your lack of family and your appearance all come together screaming that fact. Your lack of Japanese and Chinese citizenship, and your recent application for U.S. citizenship with immigration all add substance to your tale. The DNA testing only proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt." A later trace of Nobukazu's history produced a list of ancestors, one with which Kiyoshi had been intimate. Fate now left him standing in the shoes of his own great, great, great, great grandson. The match of blood proved that Jusenkyou did not change a person's body, but merely forced it to reflect that of their genes in strict accordance to the waters properties. He could only muse at the traits of the water he had come into contact with. When the curse had taken its toll upon his aged body, he found himself a child, but he had completely retained all of his former agility and chi. Strangely, it did not leave him entirely the same person, he knew, for he found it radically hard not to act like a child after a year of having been one. He had found it so exhilarating to be a child, treated like a one and even feeling like one, that he did not even bother changing back most of the time. The startling thing, which he had not realized until much later, was that he was no longer a slave to his perversion. Even when his body reached puberty, he had been able to control the driving force within him to the point that he did not need it any longer. That brought him to the essence he knew as Seiichi. What was he, you might ask? Kiyoshi himself did not even know. He seemed to be more than a spirit of a human, wise beyond time itself, and yet lacking even the simplest of emotions. The first time Seiichi had shown himself was during Kiyoshi's second winter in China. Kiyoshi had just arrived in Jusenkyou and was descending into the valley when someone blocked his path. Like an armored paladin, Seiichi appeared, covered with ancient Chinese battle armor. Much like Kiyoshi, Seiichi could not have been any older than thirteen, though that was probably stretching it. The child did not answer Kiyoshi's questions or even respond. He simply attacked. The fight had not lasted long, although Kiyoshi put up a fight that would have made a lesser god think twice. Seiichi was simply invulnerable to attack, even chi attacks. Kiyoshi had thought himself done in, but Seiichi only smiled ominously and vanished. That must have been his way of introducing himself, Kiyoshi thought now. Their second meeting had been much less exciting. Seiichi explained that he was a guardian spirit of sorts, similar to the Christian idea of an angel, though his power was not derived from any divinity. He said little about himself, though, and had told Kiyoshi to not waste his second chance at life. In fact, Seiichi had not even given Kiyoshi his real name. Seiichi was simply something Kiyoshi thought of to give the spirit more substance. Why he had been given that second chance had not been answered until a lost girl came into his care. Perhaps Jusenkyou was laced with Fate itself, Kiyoshi mused as he filed the memories in the recesses of his mind once more. He watched the five corporate heads file past him, leaving Nabiki Tendou sitting directly across from where he stood. Her smile seemed genuine, but he knew that behind it and within her beautiful body hid the scheming of a mastermind. She uncrossed her legs and rested her hands on her thighs, showing she was ready to hear the reason for which he had asked her to stay. "As I said before, Tendou-san," Kiyoshi began, taking the seat in front of her. "The operations here are quite impressive. I am pleased." "I would like to take the credit, but it is more Kuranai-san's doing than mine." Within her deferential words, he knew there to be nothing more than showing proper respect. "Cutting through the formality and what not, you and I both know that is bullshit." He watched as her smile turned into a grin. He continued. "We have known each other for quite a long time, after all. I would rather dispense with formality, if you do not mind." "I do not," she told him evenly, crossing her legs again and smoothing out her skirt. "Good," Kiyoshi stated her with a nod. "Do you remember when we first met?" Although a little insecurity bubbled to the surface of her aura, her voice betrayed no emotion. "Of course, Nishiyama-san." "Kiyoshi, please," he interjected. "I do, Kiyoshi," she affirmed again. "I was a low level executive, and you were..." "A 'head clerk'," Kiyoshi said, filling in her blank. "Ah yes, a head clerk. A good one at that. We were both pretty much messengers, though you seemed to have more fun than I did then." He smiled at that as she continued. "I gave you tasks from time to time whenever you were in Japan. You were just a kid then, though you did seem very mature for your age." She returned his smile. "Quite an interesting turn of events happened, and now here you are, the CEO of one of the largest corporate firms in the world." Chuckling politely, Kiyoshi had to agree with her. Interesting hardly covered it. "And here you are, the Vice-president of our Japanese headquarters, ready to ascend the throne as my across the seas counterpart." "That is if Kuranai-san ever retires," Nabiki replied. Sitting back in his chair, Kiyoshi laughed again. "Never-the-less, you run the business with his full authority." Nodding her agreement, Nabiki folded her hands in her lap, interlacing her fingers. Kiyoshi scratched beneath his left ear, a nervous habit from his early years having proven itself yet to be extinguished. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that nothing has changed since my last visit here. Your fine work has assured that." "I honestly cannot take all of the credit," Nabiki admitted. "The people I work with are very apt in their positions, and they follow my words like well trained blood hounds." When Kiyoshi chuckled again, Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Well, it is true." "Under your leadership," Kiyoshi added, standing suddenly. He then changed the line of their conversation. "Tendou-san, accompany me outside?" He held out his arm cordially. Rising to stand next to him, she hooked her arm with his as he turned and began walking out of the office. He could hear her heart beat quicken ever so slightly as they passed clerks and entered the elevator. She punched the button that would take them to the lobby of the building and returned to stand close to him, still holding his arm with hers. She seemed a little closer than casual, but it did not bother him in the slightest. "Whether you know already or not, we have a dinner date tonight." His words made her turn slightly. She obviously did not know. "Is that so?" she said ice cold, expressing her concern. "Your father offered," Kiyoshi explained, settling her nervousness. "I met with him and Genma Saotome last night." Silence prevailed upon them for a moment before the elevator reached their destination and the door opened. She quickly broke it though. "If Saotome-san and my father were together, then it is probably a part of some scheme of theirs." He could not help laughing as they walked across the shiny tiled floor of the lobby. After he exchanged bows with a few people who recognized him, he continued on with her. "I was leaving for your sister's house now," Kiyoshi said, leading her towards the glass doors. "Would you like to accompany me?" "I would like to," she began slowly. "But I have to finish a few things in the office." "I'm sure that you can finish everything tomorrow," Kiyoshi entreated. "I insist." They exited the building where a limousine awaited him. Although he hated those things, since driving himself was so much more pleasurable, it was the only way to have a good conversation with Nabiki. "I guess that it would be all right," she agreed, entering the car after he opened it for her, which he shortly followed thereafter. "I did plan to dine with my family later anyway." She was quickly falling back into her icy and dominating, but quite normal self. Insecurity and uncertainty did not become her at all. Kiyoshi much preferred her confidence. The conversation they had during the trip to the Tendou home was quite casual, as they talked about daily stuff, things that irritated them and anything else frivolous that happened to pop into their heads. Kiyoshi accomplished that which he had intended, though, for he merely wanted her to feel more secure around him, like a casual partner rather than a boss. It worked well, for as they reached their destination, she was sitting next to him with a hand on his shoulder, telling a particularly funny joke she had heard in the office. The sunlight already grew dim as the two casually approached the gates, arm in arm, laughing at her perverted joke. Soun had told him to be there at seven, and Kiyoshi's watch read that it was six thirty- five, putting him ahead of schedule. In another half hour or so, the sunset would be complete, descending into the dark of night. All felt well, though there was something on the wind that made Kiyoshi uneasy, something just beyond his line of sight. He would have to keep an eye out and warn Kimiko to do so as well, just in case. "Have you met my entire family?" Nabiki asked as he pushed open the gates. Kiyoshi shook his head, allowing her to walk through before shutting them behind himself. Her heels clicked with every step across the brick walkway, though his steps went unheard. He allowed her to lead him to the front door, where she paused and giggled. "What is it?" he asked, stopping behind her. "Nothing, Kiyoshi," she replied, slowly turning the doorknob. "You'll enjoy my family, though the house gets crowded at times. We usually eat in the backyard, but it's been so cold this summer." Following after her, they made their way past the stairs and into the hall. Before he even reached the living room, he could hear a number of voices and guessed that everybody had shown up tonight. He paused as Nabiki rounded the corner into the living room. Happy greetings were exchanged as Kiyoshi took a deep breath and entered. The scene was just as he had imagined it, a decent sized living room filled wall to wall with Tendous, Saotomes and Onos. He felt more than a little nervous under the gaze of so many eyes, since he had known all of them in his past life, one he no longer wished to remember. Guilt resided in the past, more than he wanted to think about any longer. It only made him feel worse to remember that some of the people in here were adversely affected by his criminal behavior, the worst of which was directed at Kimiko, who was absent from the room at the moment, in addition to all the other children. Heads turned and mumbled questions were asked, as Soun stood and walked over to his middle daughter and Kiyoshi. He seemed more dignified now than when Kiyoshi had last known more than fifteen years ago. His hair had long since grayed, though it was still just as long as ever, naturally curling at his shoulders. His soft brown eyes closed and his lips curved into a smile as he bowed low to the two of them, showing his deep respect. Kiyoshi smiled and bowed as Nabiki did. "Welcome to my home, Kiyoshi-san," Soun greeted warmly. "And it is good to see you again, Nabiki. Both of you, come in. I'll introduce you to everyone." The family had begun to stand as Soun turned and started on his left. Kiyoshi bowed to each as Soun introduced them. Every single last member radiated some amount of happiness, Kiyoshi noticed as his host finished. The remarkable recovery of this makeshift clan seemed much less a miracle than pure determination on their part. That was not including one of their number: Akane. As she approached Kiyoshi and Nabiki and the others departed to resume their conversations, a hint of perpetual sadness resonated from the depths of the raven-haired woman's soul. Kiyoshi could feel it without trying, and that only happened when the suffering of the spirit was enough to puncture the thin veil that bound it from physical world. One can traverse either side, but it was a rare experience indeed to feel it through that tentative, yet nearly unbreakable barrier. A warm smile lit her face, masking the inner discomfort she felt, to all but Kiyoshi. "Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of visiting your fine household, Tendou-san," Kiyoshi graciously told her, bowing. "I'm going to go have a word with my father," Nabiki whispered to him before leaving him to talk with Akane alone. He glanced over at her once, catching her eyes as she turned once before sitting next to Soun. Kiyoshi turned his attention to Akane who beckoned him into the hall. Following her without a word, he put his hands in his pockets. She turned to face him with the look of sadness creeping over her. "Is this about my sister?" Kiyoshi asked quickly, before she could speak. If anything bad were to happen, it would definitely revolve around her, he thought. After she nodded briefly, he grinned. "What has she done?" Akane appeared a little nervous, as if she were deciding how to tell him some bad news. Her reply came slowly. "Since she's your sister, you know how young martial artists can act sometimes, right? Well, your sister and one of the kids went a little overboard in their sparring match earlier." Before he could inquire to her condition, Akane answered. "She's okay, but she took some nasty hits and is sleeping at the moment. We laid her down in my son's bedroom. The kids have been periodically watching over her and the boy that she sparred with." After she finished, Kiyoshi nodded slowly. So that is what she was nervous about, he thought. She must be worried about my reaction. "Would it be all right if I go in and see her?" "Of course," Akane told him, beginning to walk down the hall. "I'll take you to her." One flight of stairs and two passed doorways later, Akane knocked on a door and slowly opened it. She peered in and pushed it open, beckoning for him to enter. Before he complied, Akane told someone within the room, "Kenichi, this is Kimiko's elder brother, Kiyoshi." He heard a shuffling in the room as he entered. Absorbing the details of the room, he was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer state of chaos that it was in. Kimiko lay on the bed to his left, while a desk with scattered art materials sat up against the far wall. A teenager, who could be none other than the son of Akane, stood somewhere in the middle, brushing his pants nervously. He wore an apron that might have once been white, but was now painted with a rainbow of different colors. Underneath he wore black slacks and a green shirt, both untouched by the random splashes. The only thing more vibrant in the room than the boy was the mural on right wall, which was partially covered by him. Round like the earth, the scene was sliced in half by a river of blood, one side green and blue and the other gray and metallic. So he's an environmentalist, Kiyoshi thought with a grin. Closing the door, Kiyoshi let the awkward silence unnerve the boy allowing him to introduce himself first. It took a moment for the boy to catch on, because he was still gaping. "I'm Kenichi Tendou, sir," he told Kiyoshi, bowing. "It's a pleasure to meet you." "And it is a pleasure to meet you," Kiyoshi told him, returning the bow. "You have my thanks for watching over my little sister." He then bowed again. "It was no problem, Nishiyama-san," the boy replied, nervously looking over to the canvas that was angled so you could only see it from the right wall. He scratched his head, gripping his hands apprehensively. With a broad smile, he decided to tease the boy some. "You wouldn't happen to be painting her naked, would you?" The despairing look in the boy's eyes was enough to make Kiyoshi laugh out loud, but he held back. Kenichi furiously denied that in a stuttered sentence which was so jumbled, Kiyoshi could only make out the words 'no' and 'never', both of which were stated quite a few times. After that, Kenichi quickly turned the canvas for Kiyoshi to see. Amazing was the only word Kiyoshi could describe as he looked over the tasteful portrait of Kimiko. As if the unfinished painting were alive, Kimiko stared back at him with haunted eyes and flushed cheeks. Her unbound mane of red hair hung at her shoulders, darkened by the water that dripped from it. Her lips mimicked reality, pursed open ever so slightly as she did in her sleep now, exposing the white of her teeth. Her expression seemed to be neutral, but an overlaying tone of melancholy that could not be seen at first glance had Kimiko represented painfully well. The background of the painting was still white and a few of the details were still undefined, but it still looked marvelous. "This is, really, very good," Kiyoshi told the on-edge young man. "But I was really hoping you would have painted her nude." The boy face-faulted, still caught off-guard from his earlier teasing. Kiyoshi simply could not hold back a chuckle at the boy's expense. "I was kidding, Kenichi." Although it alleviated most of his embarrassment, Kenichi still looked nervous. "I trust you with my sister's honor, in addition to her well being," Kiyoshi added, reassuring the boy by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," Kenichi whispered and then bowed very low, even as his face turned quite red. "Did you ask before painting her?" Kiyoshi wondered aloud. Kenichi shook his head, as he walked over to his desk. "She's been out since we moved her. Do you think she'll mind?" "No," Kiyoshi told him with a shrug. "But you never know with her. She gets weird about these things sometimes." Turning his attention from Akane's son, Kiyoshi walked to the bedside, sitting on its edge. Only Kimiko's hair and face were visible underneath the dark green covers. Her hair was spread out across the pillow, like a splash of red paint contrasting a field of green. Drawing back the covers to her shoulders, Kiyoshi quickly scanned her skin for marks, but found none. He turned to Kenichi. "Do you know where she was injured?" "Well, Rintaro really did a number on her stomach and her left arm, I think," Kenichi answered. He then added, quite self- consciously, "Oh, and her...umm...left breast. She only passed out because she was exhausted, I think." Nodding, Kiyoshi turned back to the girl beside him. Prodding her neck for a pulse, he found a regular, healthy one. He lifted back eyelids, checking for a response, but everything seemed fine. With no worries of hurting her now that he was sure of her condition, he turned her head so that she was facing straight up and pressed both of his hands to her temples. A warm spike of chi energy shot through his hands and into her head, causing her to instantly open her eyes and sit up straight. "Kiyoshi?" Kimiko asked, blinking and squinting even though the light was not that bright. "It's me, Kim-chan," he replied as she slowly began to regain consciousness. "How are you feeling?" It took a moment for her to answer, but she responded none-the-less. "Like hell," she complained, lying back down. She yawned, closing her eyes sleepily. "Where do you hurt?" he asked, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Where don't I hurt?" she shot back with a smile. After yawning again, she elaborated. "My breast is still throbbing from when Rintaro bashed me with his shoulder." Rubbing it tenderly with her left hand, she added, "He managed to catch the nipple dead on. My stomach hurts too. He pretty much targeted me there a lot. And my left arm. He grazed that with a really strong punch." "I hope you returned the favor," Kiyoshi told her, taking her arm. Examining the bandaged arm, he jabbed his fingers into the skin near the veins. It was just a superficial cut, though probably quite painful at the time. "This won't scar." "Oh, too bad," Kimiko joked. "I was hoping for a reminder of this fight." Smiling, Kiyoshi pushed back the comforter and then pushed her odd Hawaiian styled shirt back to look at her stomach. Dark blue welts covered its surface. She winced as he felt her bruised skin with his fingers. "Your stomach will be fine in a day or two." She nodded as he covered her stomach. "Do you want me to look at your breast?" "Yeah," she replied, her voice strained as she began to wrestle with the top button of her blouse. "No copping a feel, though." He heard an embarrassed cough from behind him, which caught Kimiko's attention. "You were placed in Kenichi's room," Kiyoshi offered, not taking his eyes from her. "Hi," Kenichi greeted, nearly a whisper, from across the room. "Heya, Kenichi," she responded wearily. "Thanks for the bed." "Um, no problem," the boy said shakily. Fumbling with the top button again, Kimiko could not quite get it. Kiyoshi quickly turned to look at Kenichi who suddenly seemed to find his mural quite interesting, though the sides of his face were beet red. "Allow me," Kiyoshi told Kimiko as he turned back to face her. Quickly unbuttoning her blouse, he opened it. She turned her head as he reached around her back and unfastened her bra. "It's my left breast," she whispered softly. Although pre-informed, he had no need for the knowledge when he examined her breasts. The left one had a very nasty bruise centered on the nipple. With more than adequate knowledge of the pressure points around the female breast, he had absolutely no need to search for them. He skillfully pressed his fingers directly into the correct spots. To remove the pain would require the use of a significant amount of chi. The task was not enough to drain him, but it was enough to make his hands glow. Luckily for him, Kenichi was sitting at his desk with his head turned, and was far too embarrassed to look at her exposed breast, or more importantly, Kiyoshi's glowing hands. He closed his eyes and strength ebbed from his hands, flowing into the skin and muscle around the injury. She almost immediately sighed in relief after he began. He imagined the cells restoring themselves beneath his fingers, as he knew they were. Opening his eyes, he smiled. The flesh had regained its proper color, although it was still a little tender. "Still hurt?" "Not nearly as bad," Kimiko answered, pulling her shirt closed, after he retracted his hands. "Thanks, Kiyo-kun." "Don't mention it," he said, ruffling her hair. "You did win, right?" Looking away, she scowled and shook her head. "Nah, I exerted myself too much and just passed out, I think. Last I saw, he was standing. I did manage to pop him one before I fell, though." Kiyoshi turned as he heard Kenichi clearing his throat. "You did win, Kimiko," the boy added softly. "You knocked Rintaro out before you passed out." Chuckling as the scowl shifted into a grin on his sister's face, Kiyoshi stood, smiling. She beamed back, sitting up carefully. Her eyes looked a little distant, but she otherwise seemed healthy. The bruises were nothing more than a topical discomfort rather than anything serious. Perhaps, he considered to himself, he should go and check on the other child. If Kimiko was this jostled up, the boy might be hurt worse. Though, he did trust Akane's assessment of the children's health, especially since Dr. Tofu was in the household. "I'm going to check on, what's his name? Rintaro?" Kiyoshi turned to Kenichi who was staring dreamily at Kimiko. "Kenichi?" "Oh, sorry," the boy muttered. "Yeah, it's Rintaro and he's in the room to your immediate right. I'm not sure who's in there with him, if anyone is." Smiling at the boy, Kiyoshi looked at Kimiko who was struggling to keep her eyes open as she sat up against the headboard of the bed. "Kimiko, I'll see you a bit later. Want me to get you when it's dinner time?" The mention of dinner brought a quick response from the girl who broadened her grin. "Yeah, don't forget. I'm starving." Chuckling softly, Kiyoshi nodded and left the room, closing it behind him. The click of Kiyoshi's exit echoed in the silent room, and Kimiko pressed her hand to her clammy forehead. She was vaguely aware of Kenichi's presence somewhere behind her, though the boy had not uttered a single word since her brother departed the moment before. With the pain from her left breast nearly faded, her stomach hurt worse than it had, but it was tolerable. She had been hit harder in the past, although that was a long time ago and she had a much more hearty constitution. Weakly propping the pillow up against the wall, she turned and wearily rested her back. She felt as if she had just run a marathon, and her muscles had already stiffened like bricks. It much effort just to turn her neck and look at Kenichi, but she managed it. He was about six feet away from her, sitting in a chair facing her, his hands held, fingers interlaced. Staring meaningfully at his bare feet, he looked very nervous. "So I won, huh?" she asked, breaking the embarrassed silence. "Yeah," he replied, looking up into her eyes for a moment, then turning them back to the floor. Pressing his hands to the seat of the chair, he lifted himself up and crossed his legs underneath himself, promptly sitting back down. "It was close, but you won." "Cool," she stated, smiling at him. He began to smile back, but turned his head away quickly, a slight flush coloring to his cheeks. Kimiko yawned for a moment, and then pursued a conversation. "How'd I do?" Biting his bottom lip, Kenichi pushed his right hand through his hair, looking anything but comfortable. "Well, you did good, and you did win, but you let him bully you around a lot. And you gave him too much time to set up his next attacks. I don't know if you needed that time or what, but it was pretty much a deciding factor." A little surer with himself, Kenichi scooted forward in his chair. "Some of his techniques were pretty cheap, some I haven't even seen, but you handled them really well. I thought he had you after he had caught you in that one hold. The one after you through a punch, where he grabbed you and was about to pummel you." "Yeah," Kimiko agreed, forgetting her fatigue. She slowly sat straight, by herself, as she continued. "I saw that one coming a mile away. He was pretty predictable most of the time. Well, when he wasn't kicking my ass." Kenichi giggled a little at that. "I totally set him for that one though. I threw a sloppy punch so he'd use something I'd recognize. He did use a lot of stuff that I've never seen before though." Sliding off his chair and onto the floor beside the bed, Kenichi put his hands on the bed. With his self-consciousness forgotten, he continued their conversation with a grin on his face. "That was a really cool counter you pulled there. But my favorite part was where you dropped down so fast that you'd pop up next to him, and he'd be all confused. How'd you learn that?" Sticking out her bottom lip in thought, Kimiko answered, "Let me think. I sort of learned it while fighting Kiyoshi. He's so tall that I could distract him a little, drop, weave beside him and attack again. It didn't get through his defense, but it made him stop attacking. It only works on opponents who are taller than yourself." She stopped, leering at him. "You're not short, but you're definitely not tall, so it won't work well for or against you." "That sucks," Kenichi complained, grinning lopsided. He then stopped smiling and shook his head. "What?" Kimiko asked, leaning forward slightly. "I'm still in shock that the great Rintaro is no longer undefeated," he answered. "Was there ever any doubt?" Kimiko asked, flashing her eyelashes. When Kenichi held his chin in his hand and sarcastically began, "Well..." Kimiko cut him off. "Actually, don't answer that." Rubbing her sore back, she straightened from her slouch and thoughtfully peered down at him sitting on the floor, both arms rested on the bed. He radiated simple happiness, it seemed to her, and his smile and brown eyes both proved that. Not able to think of anything to say, Kimiko rested back against the wall and sighed. That was when she noticed the canvas and paints scattered about the room. As she strained looking at the mess, Kenichi turned and stood. His softly spoke his explanation, though it sounded weak, like he was far away. "You know how I said I was an artist?" "Yeah," Kimiko replied, yawning thereafter. "Well, I really like doing people's portraits," he told her, twisting the canvas around for her to see, although his body was still in the way. "I hope you don't mind me painting you." The dark-haired boy took a step away from the portrait, like a showman pulling back the curtains for the theater. The sight before Kimiko took her breath away. Depicted to mirror her incredibly, besides the exaggerated size of the eyes and the brightness of the colors, the painting was simply amazing. Unconsciously pushing a hand through her knotted hair, Kimiko examined the canvas with a smile. Her white shirt was transparent, but the bottom of the portrait cut off anything naughty. Typical male artist addition, Kimiko thought with a grin. "So you like it?" Kenichi asked eagerly, returning the smile. At second glance, the portrait still glistened with some fresh paint. Kimiko looked into the eyes of her counterpart, and squinted at the sight. The girl had two eyes, one blue, and one green. She turned her vision to stare upon the young artist, her eyes inquisitively penetrating his, as if probing for an explanation. "Is something the matter?" Kenichi asked, tugging the cuff of his left sleeve nervously. "What's with the green eye?" she responded, sliding down to rest her head on her hand. Looking at the painting, Kenichi shrugged, as if the reason were impossible to explain. "Well when we fell in the water, your eyes shined green." He turned back to her. The koi pond, the kiss and the dream all flashed in her memory. Forgetting was definitely easier than remembering. "Whatever, it looks cool anyway." He smiled at that, though she unfortunately had to change the mood of their conversation entirely. "Kenichi?" she asked gravely, which he replied to with a nod as his smile waned. "It's about what we did in the koi pond earlier." He appeared to understand the seriousness of her intentions, and he sobered dramatically as she continued. "Well, that is...you see..." Realizing that she was twiddling her thumb like a fool, she grasped her hands in her lap. "It's really hard to say what I mean." Kenichi seemed to turn white as a ghost as he sat on the bed staring at his knees. He probably was interpreting her meaning without giving her the chance to say anything. She already regretted bringing the matter up at all, but it could not be helped. Leading him on would only make things worse in time, which had proven itself to backfire terribly in the past. How do you tell someone, who seems to have a crush on you, that you were actually a guy at one time and hoped to be one in a month or two, once more? Kimiko helplessly wondered. She could tell him that she was not interested, but for some reason the words just would not leave her mouth. He already looked like a fish ensnared on a fisher's hook, squirming around on her line. To just outright say she did not like him the way he wanted was just like telling Shampoo, Ukyou or any of the other girls the same thing. Instead, she let her mouth run away with her, like usual. "I, we, don't really...know each other so well. I mean, we've never even dated, but it's not that I don't like you, or anything." As she continued, the perplexed look on his face showed that he understood about as much as the fish would as the fisherman told the captured creature that he was sorry for the hole in its mouth, and that he was going to eat it for dinner that very night anyway. "I think I know what you mean," Kenichi replied before Kimiko could make a bigger fool of herself than she already thought herself to be. "You wanna be friends for a while and take things slow?" Close enough, she thought with a sigh. "Yeah, I mean, you don't mind, do you?" Shaking his head, Kenichi smiled, filling most of the imaginary hole in Kimiko's chest. She still felt a little hollow about it though. Strangely enough, his voice did not even sound the least bit disappointed. "Actually, I somewhat feel the same way. When I pulled you in the water, my brain wasn't functioning very well." They both got a giggle out of that, though Kimiko's laughter quieted swiftly. "How come you told everyone else about the kiss, though?" she asked, remembering the scene right before her and Rintaro's fight. Kenichi closed his eyes, and shook his head as she continued. "Not that I'm really mad, but-" "I didn't," he interrupted, standing so that he could sit on the bed. "I honestly didn't tell'em. Rintaro saw the whole thing and told them before your fight. I would have never have told anyone until I knew how you felt about it. You did look kind of weird after...it." Hoping to dismiss the matter now that it was moving into dangerous territory, and happy that the issue was temporarily resolved, Kimiko decided to lead the conversation elsewhere. "It's over now, so let's forget it. I just want to know that we're still friends." She tried to reach her arm to hold it out for a handshake, but it did not respond well. He seemed to realize what she meant and held out his. As she slowly managed to move it, she asked, "Friends?" "Yeah, friends," he responded, about to take her hand. She would have shook his hand, but her back decided that this was the moment it would give out, so she fell forward instead. The really embarrassing part was that she had forgotten to button up her shirt, and although it had been closed during their conversation, it flapped open as she fell, right onto his hand. Kimiko's whole body felt quite stiff, both with pain and shock, as her head unintentionally fell on his lap. It would not have been nearly as bad if her shirt had not have slipped to her shoulders and his right hand were not somewhere very tender. "Oh my," Kenichi whispered as he gathered his shaken wits and gently pushed her up by the shoulders. His face burned as bright red as hers felt. The fact that his eyes were not glued to her chest had her impressed though. That was how most men seemed to react to naked breasts. Kimiko had no chance to answer in agreement as the door swung open. "Kenichi, Kimiko, dinner's...ready?" Kiyoshi stood in the doorway, his face completely ashen, his mouth gaping and his eyes wide. A second passed, allowing everything to sink into Kimiko's mind. She sat on the bed with Kenichi holding her shoulders. Her shirt was wide open, and the two of them were sitting improperly close. Now, her very overprotective and clueless brother was standing far enough away to misread the whole situation, yet close enough to see the major details. This was not good. "Sorry," Kiyoshi whispered, silently closing the door. Kimiko turned to face Kenichi the same time he turned to face her. He took one glance at her chest, and his eyes began to roll up in his head. This time she had to catch him as he fell backwards. The law of predictability stated that the door should open again. And it did. "What's going on in here, guys?" It was Mayako's turn to stand in the doorway. "Oh God," Kimiko managed to whisper under her breath as she held Kenichi from falling over. This time her breasts were hanging out as she leaned over him in a very provocative way. "Whoa!" the conscious twin exclaimed as her gaping turned into a huge grin. "I should leave you two alone." She then closed the door. "Ahh!" Kimiko shrieked, weakly shaking Kenichi. "Wake up, Kenichi! I can't hold you!" "Huh?" the boy muttered, slowly regaining conscious. He did not do it quick enough, because her arms gave out and the both tumbled over the side of the bed. Luckily, Kenichi absorbed the fall with his head. Unfortunately, Kimiko still could move just about as well as a brick. Her head felt like a spinning top, about to topple over. Too late did she realize that she was not even in the sweats that she had originally been wearing when she had passed out. "Oh God." The futility of it all made her want to scream. Here she was, on top of a very handsome young man, wearing nothing but a baggy unbuttoned shirt and panties, and completely unable to do anything about it. She would definitely think twice before draining her body of its chi a second time. "Kim...?" Kenichi whispered, since their faces were about three inches a part at best. When the door clicked open a third time, causing Kenichi to look over, Kimiko gave a despairing sigh and let her head fall beside his face in defeat. "Go Kenichi!" Ryosei's voice echoed from the hall. "Sorry, he wouldn't believe me," Mayako stated from around the same place. "We won't bother you again." The door closed for a third time, although Ryosei clearly protested. Kimiko thought she heard the door click twice, for some reason... "I hate my life," Kimiko whispered in his ear after a few moments of peace. "Why are we like this on the floor?" Kenichi sounded absolutely puzzled. Maybe he got brain damage from hitting his head, Kimiko thought wryly. She knew he understood the gravity of the situation when he stated, "Oh." "Yeah," she replied softly. "Is the room spinning for you too?" he asked. "Like a dradle." "You're not wearing pants are you?" "Nope." "Oh my." Kenichi's head fell back against the wooden floor with a thud. Kimiko only had the energy to sigh. * * * The pallor of Kiyoshi's face showed that something was wrong, Nabiki observed as her decade and a half younger boss re-entered the living room like a wraith. Already seated at the dinner table, Nabiki wanted to stand to ask what was the matter, but her younger sister beat her to it, quickly intercepting him. Kiyoshi obviously did not wish to speak his mind, because he only shook his head and stalked by her, to sit across from Nabiki. She opened her mouth to ask him something, when giggling from the hall and the sound of children rushing towards the living room momentarily stole her attention from Kiyoshi. Two of the most rambunctious teenagers in the house, Mayako and Ryosei, walked into the living room, laughing about something or another. As Akane sat on Nabiki's left, Mayako bolted to sit across from her mother on Kiyoshi's right. Soun was already sitting at the head of the table, with Genma on the other with Reiko on his left and an empty space on his right. Normally the adults sat in the house, while the kids all ate outside, but this time they had decided to reverse the situation, all but for the ones sitting their now and the absence of the two littlest. Ryosei frowned slightly while watching Mayako, then walked and sat next to Nabiki, offering her an unsteady smile. "What's wrong?" she asked him as he settled in. "I thought you were observant," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his lap, motioning towards the other side of the table with his head. It only took one look to see what was bothering him, for Mayako was practically drooling over Kiyoshi. "See what?" Nabiki nodded solemnly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Ryo-chan. I've seen him turn down beautiful women of all ages. I don't think he's going to make a move on his friend's daughter." With a sober sigh, Ryosei shook his head. "That's not all that I'm worried about." Nabiki raised an eyebrow as he explained. "She's mooning over him like I don't exist. I mean, I know she's the most insensitive girl alive, but can't she for once just think about someone other than herself?" Blinking slowly, Nabiki turned back to the scene. Kiyoshi seemed perfectly at ease, now, with both of Mayako's hands clutching his shoulder as she whispered to him. A tinge of jealousy, hardly enough to even be noticed by Nabiki herself, surfaced, but it was enough for her to unconsciously frown. His steel gray eyes met her brown ones, and he smiled. Nabiki could not help but reflexively return his infectious smile with one of her own. "Auntie?" Ryosei asked her, tapping the hand that still held his shoulder. Regretfully breaking their eye contact, she turned to the boy. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "You got a thing for Kim's brother or something?" Calmly shaking her head, Nabiki silently prayed to all of the holiness in heaven that she would not blush. She whispered a rushed yet plausible explanation. "He's my boss." "Sure," Ryosei replied with a slight grin. His mischievous eyes glittered. "I'm really not worried about him picking up Mayako now that he's spoken for." Shrugging her shoulders, Nabiki leaned over to him and whispered, "Five hundred yen says you shut your mouth right now, or I'll tell Mayako about some of the Anime you have stashed in the box hidden in your closet." Savoring the result of her threat, Nabiki watched his face pale and his eyes open wide. Before he could ask, she answered his unspoken question. "I know all, see all, and hear all." Nodding without an ounce of his former security, he stared down at the table, as if that could somehow save him from the threatened embarrassment. "I'm glad we are in agreement." Nabiki then looked up and thanked Kasumi as she placed tea on the table in front of her. Nabiki turned her attention to Mayako, who was virtually attached to Kiyoshi by this time, and to the mother who seemed happily oblivious to the whole thing. "Is something wrong, Nabiki?" Akane asked, noticing the attention that was paid to her. Pointing towards the "couple", Nabiki smiled wryly. Akane turned, looked straight past Mayako and Kiyoshi, smiled at Kiyoshi who smiled back, and then turned back to Nabiki. "What?" Did she...approve...of them? A memory involving Akane's crush over Dr. Tofu bubbled to the surface, but Nabiki pushed it back. No, Akane would not approve of her daughter pursuing a man ten years older, even if she had in her youth. At least, Nabiki hoped that Akane would not. But, it was not like Kiyoshi was "spoken for" as Ryosei had put it. He had been acting unusually casual with her the entire evening, especially for an employer and employee, but maybe he did not mean anything by it. Perhaps that was just how he acted normally. Nabiki certainly did not know him well enough to discern whether his behavior had been "unusual" or not. "Never mind," Nabiki replied to her younger sister. * * * "You sure you're okay?" Kenichi asked Kimiko softly, as she unsteadily laid her eyes on him. She then blinked and refocused her eyes on him again. He bit his bottom lip before continuing. "I'm sure my mom would bring you up something to eat, if you want?" Her face looked a little pallid, and her movements were strained, but the determination of her voice fiercely warded his attempts at concern. "Already said I'm fine," she shot back. Pushing her hands through her knotted hair, Kimiko took a deep breath. "And I'm not tired enough to miss dinner." She frowned. "What's the smile for?" Letting his face fall neutral, Kenichi had not even known that he smiled. He shrugged and pushed his hands in his pockets, rocking gently on his heels as he answered. "I don't know. I'm just happy, I guess." "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why?" "Why?" His soft whisper was more of a question to himself than to her, but she replied anyway. "Yeah, what's there to be happy about?" She was sitting on his bed, her hands rested on her knees, her shining eyes rested upon him. His mother had cleaned and washed Kimiko's gray silk blouse and her navy blue skirt. They did not quite seem to be colors that suited Kimiko well, but they did match her mood now. "What's not to be happy about?" he returned with a shrug. Smiling, Kenichi held out his hand to help her stand. "I mean, with everything considered, things aren't so bad right now." Kimiko blinked a few times, fluttering her lashes and putting her left hand to her forehead. "Even though I gave you the old, 'Let's just be friends,' excuse?" Then with her right hand, she grasped his. Her soft yet strong hand rubbed against his as he practically yanked her to her feet. Whether she needed to be helped that much, or she purposefully meant to weigh him down, he did not know. "I needed to hear that excuse," he answered, still holding her hand, even as she stood on her own two feet. Looking down at his feet, he wistfully sighed as he released it. Thinking for a moment, Kenichi looked up to meet her sapphire blue eyes. "Want to hear something stupid?" Covering her yawning mouth with her hand, Kimiko nodded. She looked exhausted, standing there with her weight shifted to one hip and her eyes fighting to stay open. When she lowered her hand, she mumbled, "So tell me already." "Well," he began, suddenly not sure if he wanted to tell her. "It's really embarrassing, so you have to promise not to laugh." With a three-fingered salute to her brow, she promised, "Scouts honor." After taking a deep breath, Kenichi shoved his hands back in his pockets, shying his face from her. "You remember when we bumped into each other at the airport?" She nodded to his question. "Well, after that, I didn't think we'd ever see each other again. So, I wished that we could bump into each other again." "Why would I laugh at that?" Looking up at her, Kenichi wondered at the solemn tone of her voice. Did she wish the same thing? Did fate bring them together like this because they both wanted it? Pushing those romantic notions from his head, he tried to formulate a response. "So...uh...did you wish too?" Tried to formulate was right, although her answer was even more bizarre. "No. I followed you." With a hand against her face, he could discern a wince from the genuine look of pain on her face. "You okay?" He hurried to her side, putting his arm around her shoulder in support. "I'm fine!" she blurted, leaning against him like dead weight. "Whoa," he muttered, directing her to sit on the bed. He wanted to get an explanation as to why she followed him, but asking might only upset her further. That he did not want. "Sit here a second. There's no rush to eat." "I'm starving," she replied, resuming the task of sitting herself up. "And I'm fighting to stay awake. I can't even think straight. That technique really sucks after the fight's over." "What technique?" Kenichi prodded enthusiastically. "How come you think I didn't lose?" She turned to face him then, steadying herself with both of her hands pressed against the bed. "An amazing recovery at the last moment? A second wind?" Honestly confused, Kenichi nodded. With a brisk shake of her head, Kimiko looked away. "Nah, that's not it at all. I just copied Rintaro." "Copied him?" "Yeah." She whispered with a nod. Sliding her hands to her knees, Kimiko took a deep breath. "I've never really thought about what keeps me from getting hurt by punches and stuff, like normally people would. I've always attributed it to toughness and battle-hardened kind of stuff." "Isn't it?" Kenichi asked, as he held the same belief. After being on the receiving end of enough punches, he just got used to it after a while. It was not a conscious thing, because he certainly did not need to think about it. It simply was. "Some, yes," she responded. "Some of it is conditioning, and training and taking enough hits. But most of it isn't. I've survived a lot of stuff that would kill most people in the best of conditions. I've never, ever asked why, or even thought about it. I always assumed I was simply better than everyone else, that somehow I achieved a higher form of physical training." Pausing for a moment, she shifted her bare feet against his wooden floor. Kenichi allowed her the time to finish her answer, as he was truly intrigued where she was heading. "I realized today that I was only partially right. I did achieve a sort of higher form of training, but it wasn't physical. Although it took me a lot of time to realize it, and even when I used it today, I didn't think about the technique itself too much. Rintaro had been using it the whole time, wrapped up tight like a present with enough stuffing to let the contents survive a drop off a skyscraper. "Somehow, his chi was shielding him from my attacks. I was able to absorb a lot of his punches, but he was really doing a number on my body, because I'm not really in the greatest of shape currently." As Kimiko continued, Kenichi mentally remarked on how much he disagreed about her physical condition. "Anyway, I realized what he was doing and why he was so uncaring through the whole thing. That was the way he avoided damage, somehow channeling his chi to absorb the blows. I don't even think he was doing it consciously." Blinking with more than a little confusion, Kenichi stopped her by putting his hand on hers. "Wait a second. You mean that technique was like something out of Cyber School Rumble? That the reason you beat him was because you magically shielded yourself from damage?" Half believing, and the other half waiting for her to break out laughing like Mayako would, Kenichi stared at her. "Cyber School Rumble?" she asked, curiously. "Yeah. It just came out on console." "Oh, a video game," she replied, staring down at his hand, which was still on top of hers. "Nah, a cyber game," Kenichi corrected, pulling his hand away, embarrassed. "But you know what I mean?" She nodded, interlacing her fingers together. "I think I do, and I guess that's one fiction based on reality." "Cool!" he exclaimed, bouncing on the bed a few times. "You're not even kidding, are you?" "Why would I kid you?" Kimiko asked, more reflectively than wanting and answer. "But yeah, like a 'cyber game,' I guess." Going back to her original statement, he wondered aloud, "So why'd you say 'that really technique really sucks,' then?" Sighing, she unclenched her hands and pushed them to the bed. "It literally drained me. I used up everything and..." Kimiko turned her head away from him as she pushed herself to her feet. "And passed out." A clattered knock at the door dispelled their conversation, and caused Kimiko to fall back onto the bed. "Can I come in?" It was his mother's voice. "Yeah," Kenichi called back. The door swung open, revealing Akane carrying a tray of food. "I thought that I'd bring you two some food, since neither of you were coming down." As she approached, Kenichi spotted three very full plates and three beverages. "And that I might join you?" Although he would rather be alone with Kimiko, Kenichi agreed with a nod. Akane set the tray on the floor and beckoned them to join her as she took her plate from it. "Thank you, Mom," Kenichi told her as he slid to the floor, and took a plate and a glass of juice. "Aren't you hungry, Kimiko?" His mother asked the redhead. Kenichi turned to look up at her still sitting on the bed. Her face was red with embarrassment, as she sat, slumped over onto her right hand. Her voice conveyed how she felt as she spoke. "Yeah, but..." Realizing her plight from their conversation before, Kenichi stood up and sat next to her, reaching under her armpit and around her back. "Are you all right, honey?" Akane whispered, across to her as the two children slowly slid to their knees. "I'm just exhausted," Kimiko admitted as Kenichi let her go when she was adjacent to the tray of food. "And very hungry. Thank you so much for bringing it to me, Akane-san." With one of her motherly omniscient smiles, Akane reached for her drink. Kenichi lifted his and took a sip. It was some sort of artificially flavored citrus drink, probably enriched with more vitamins than existed, and it tingled slightly as it went down. The meal itself smelled and looked very promising, though. Kenichi watched Kimiko lethargically take her plate and beverage, and later how she slowly ate her food, seeming to pause with every bite. "I wanted to ask you a question, if that is all right, Kimiko." Akane set her chopsticks on the side of the plate, and set her hands on her knees. "And I also needed to talk to the both of you." Kenichi reflexively gulped at the serious tone of her voice. "Of course, Akane-san," Kimiko replied evenly, her eyes half shut. "Go ahead and ask." Taking a bite of something particularly tasty, Kenichi listened in as the two women talked. "You don't have to answer if you don't want," his mother began. That meant that the subject matter was as serious as she had sounded. Kimiko nodded, signaling her to begin. "Well, I really wanted to know about your parents. I tried asking your brother, but he only said that you were the only one who could answer. I really wouldn't pry into such a delicate matter like this, but..." Kimiko waved her hand and shook her head, yawning as she let Akane know that it was all right. "It's okay, Akane-san. No need to explain. I was bound to explain it to one of you anyway." Kenichi looked at her with serious curiosity, not noticing his mother's slightly surprised look. Hanging her head low, Kimiko studied her plate, suddenly finding it interesting. She sighed so sorrowfully that Kenichi wanted to hold her and tell her all was well. Then, she spoke with slow, calculated words. "I never really knew my mother," she began, setting her chopsticks down. "My dad never really talked about her much, and always jumped to another subject whenever it came up. I honestly didn't question him much about it until I was about six or seven, but after I realized it didn't really matter, so I gave up." Covering her mouth as she yawned, Kimiko closed her eyes. After recovering, she continued. "That's really it for my mother. My father's another story. "We really bonded on some levels, but he was always so detached from himself and me. We sort of jumped around from place to place for a real long time, until we settled down a while back. Compared to our vagrancy, that didn't last long. He disappeared one night after..." Her words ended abruptly and she lifted her glass and took a sip. She looked up at Kenichi's mother, who was just as silently shocked as he. Kenichi was honestly confused. Did her father not die? "Kiyoshi told me about that part," Akane admitted. "You've answered my question adequately enough. And I'm really sorry for bringing you the pain again, but I really had to know." "I understand," Kimiko replied, staring at her glass as she held her glass with both hands. "Was that all you wanted to ask me?" Akane nodded and smiled. Kenichi certainly had more than a few, but they could wait. This was neither the right time, nor the right place for them. "There is one thing I'd like to talk to the both of you about, though," Akane told them, staring at Kenichi until he finished chewing his food. "What's that?" Kenichi asked innocently, completely unaware of what it could be. He looked over at Kimiko who lowered and shied her face from them. Obviously she knew something, but what? "It's about you two," Akane said, motioning with her hand, like that was supposed to mean something to him. "And what?" he questioned. His mother simply glared at him, as if he was supposed to know the answer to a question that she had not even asked. "I don't get it." "She wants to know what we're doing, kissing and stuff since we only met a few days ago," Kimiko bluntly informed him. Suddenly, Kenichi felt the temperature of his room rise several degrees, his heart decided it was a good time to go on a marathon, and his skin felt the need to sweat from every pore of his body. "Sort of," Akane agreed with a giggle. "And this isn't a trial, Kenichi, so stop looking like you've committed a crime." Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared directly at him. "I just want to let you know that it's okay as long as you're cautious." The moan from Kimiko, and the intense red of her turned face suggested that something was amiss, but Kenichi was not quite the best at putting two and two together when it came to subtle things such as this. It most likely had to do with the fact that he did not want to realize the answer was really four, but never the less, he still had a blank look on his face when he looked between his mother and Kimiko. "Cautious about what?" Akane sighed as Kimiko groaned again, leaving Kenichi to stare in puzzlement. The next thought he had made his jaw drop. "No, no, no, no, no!" He exclaimed, warding towards his mother with his hands. "It's not like that at all!" Not that he did not want it to be, it was just that it was not like that, yet. "I...we...I mean, you know what I mean!" "Oh?" Akane murmured, looking puzzled. "Mayako blurted an interesting tale that led me to believe..." "It was a misunderstanding," Kimiko interrupted quickly, having regained her composure. "I wasn't able to move very well, and Kenichi seemed to have overloaded his brain when I fell on him." The 'believe it or not' tone she used settled the doubt in Kenichi's mother's eyes. "If anyone in Japan knows about misunderstandings, it's me," Akane informed them. "I trust you two. And if it does come to what I said before, then just be safe." If he had not of heard her right, he would have assumed she meant that she thought it was okay for him to have intercourse with the girl that sat next to him and across from her. No, he thought, he could not have heard that right...or did he? Oh boy...one look at Kimiko was all it took to realize she had...talk about befuddlement. Akane laughed, throwing back her head as her body shook. "Oh God, you two look so funny. I'm so sorry for putting you guys on the spot like that. You really aren't having sex!" That added a few more degrees to the room. Going from the third time he had ever kissed a girl, and the first time he had actually wanted the before said kiss, straight to practically receiving parental blessing to skip the entire dating process and hop into bed simply left Kenichi without a brain cell left to think. Well, maybe it was time for a nice mental vacation anyway. Luckily, bad luck in this case, Kimiko caught him. Her hands were shaky as she held him from planting his face into his food. The comfortable bliss of unconsciousness called to him, but when he realized her strain, he quickly sat back. His mother giggled uncontrollably as Kimiko rested back on her hands. "You remind me of your father so much when you do that, Kenichi!" Quickly diving back into eating his dinner, Kenichi tried to ignore his mother, while still flashing glances at Kimiko to make sure she was okay. Their conversation after that was much less embarrassing than before, although his mother added a comment or two about them, but he ignored it. Kimiko, for the most part, remained silent, staring intently at whoever was speaking while she ate, nodded and occasionally spoke. Unfortunately the night had to end sometime, no matter how much Kenichi enjoyed it. Akane beckoned them to come downstairs, now that Kimiko had a full stomach and was feeling marginally better, and they did so. As they arrived in the dining room where everyone was talking, Kenichi realized that Kiyoshi was already wishing everyone farewell. Kimiko and her brother shared a word while Kenichi waited for her, but then she, too, announced her departure. Reiko had already left with her parents, so that left Mai and Mayako to be the ones to hug her goodbye. Kiyoshi had already left at this point, and Kimiko was ready to follow when Kenichi gently caught her hand. "Please wait," he insisted, not releasing her. She nodded, and he drew close and whispered, "Why did you follow me?" Kimiko obviously knew what he was talking about, because she suddenly looked very panicked. Her eyes glanced over the rest of the household, which was wishing each other goodbye as well. She whispered in his ear, and quickly turned the other way, running as fast as her legs would carry her. Kenichi only stared after her, even as everyone hugged him and left. "What is it?" his mother asked, putting her arm him. "What did she whisper?" Kenichi looked over, smiling broadly. "She said I was cute!" Choking on air with fits of coughing, Kimiko dropped like dead weight onto the leather bench seat of black limousine. Fleeing from the house as she had probably made her look like an embarrassed little girl, but the result was far worth the price. Instead of thinking of a logical answer to Kenichi's question, she had told him he was cute so that he would drop the issue. It seemed to have worked, rather well in fact, but that pushed her into a whole new set of problems. Of all the excuses she could have used, why did that pop into her head? In any case, he probably would not question her about following him when they had first met. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She silently cursed herself. Her head felt like it was splitting already, and everything still seemed a little hazy, but otherwise she felt that she had a good grip over her wits. Kiyoshi sat across from her with his legs crossed with his eyes piercing hers. Kimiko challengingly stared back, though she could barely even sit up on her own at the moment. Earlier when she had tried to explain the situation to him, he brushed her off by saying, "Later," then left. It stung to think about how he probably thought of her now, but at least she could set the record straight. The limousine hummed quietly as it traveled the windy streets of Nerima. The thick, tinted windows obscured all but the brightest of Tokyo's lights, and those only shown through faintly. A few hidden lamps lit the spacious interior of the car, but she almost wished it were dark, so she would not have to return Kiyoshi's stare. He turned his head, though, to look out the window on his right. She turned too, to watch as the lights blurred by, streaking in her vision. Slowly regaining her composure and her breath, Kimiko sat up and formed her back to the contour of the backrest. The cool, smooth leather felt refreshing under her skin. She could barely make out the slight frown on his face, and the incline of his brows. Unable to wait any longer, Kimiko said, "It's not what it seemed like earlier, Kiyoshi," emphasizing his name. Her older brother did not respond, still staring out the window. Usually he was pretty open with his feelings, but not now. He did shrug a few moments later, but did not even turn to face her. "I'm telling the truth," she relented, leaning forward on her knees. "I was feeling really dizzy and I fell on him. We didn't do anything." She sighed in exasperation to his silence after that, and then frowned at him. "Why explain to me?" he asked, rotating his head to look at her. "You're an adult and can make your own decisions. For all I care, you can play with whoever you want." His icy words stung her, and she winced as if she had been slapped. Turning back to the window, he rested his right arm against it, and then hid his face. "You don't believe me," she whispered back, fighting the rush of emotions assaulting her with no little amount of anger. It was not so hard after so much practice of bundling them up, and without she probably would have been crying already. "I'm not lying, you know. We didn't do anything Amanda wouldn't have approved of." An exhausted sigh passed from his lips, as if he had carried a burden for centuries, finally able to let it fall from his shoulders. He closed his eyes and slouched in his seat. "I'm sorry." Snapping up straight, Kiyoshi opened his eyes and stared down at his shoes. "I didn't mean that. It's just that when I saw you with him like that, I felt betrayed somehow." Sighing again, he looked up at her. "It's really hard to explain." "It's okay," Kimiko softly told him. It was the story of her life anyway, embarrassing situations, misread signals, etc. At the very least, she was not sporting any new bruises anymore from it anymore, just from the 'normal' fights. "And you have every right to be mad if I had done what it seemed like I was doing." Shaking his head, Kiyoshi stated, "I think that's exactly why I felt angry." He blinked, then turned and scooted across the car to steal the seat next to her. Putting his arm over her shoulder, he stated, "It's because I have no right to do anything, no right to be mad. You are an adult, and you are responsible for your own actions. I've been deluding myself into thinking you're something that you're not the entire time I've been helping you get back on your feet." Leaning his head back, Kiyoshi closed his eyes. Although she could concede his point, Kimiko almost did not want to agree. All along, he was the older brother she had never had in her childhood, a proper role model she had lacked, and a loving, responsible adult that would hopefully always be there when she needed him. It had never really occurred to her much before of how deeply she loved him, like a real sister would love a brother. It was really too bad that he was not her real brother, so that he would have the right to a place in her life in his own mind, though he owned one none-the- less. Twenty years ago would have been a different story, but this was definitely not twenty years ago. "You're wrong," she told him, pulling his arm to enwrap her more. It felt so right to her as she rested her head against his chest, if not just a little bit odd having the positions reversed from what she had grown used to. But whatever, she was tired of criticizing herself. "I am?" He sounded confused as he put his other arm around her, clasping his hands together. "Yup," she replied playfully. Holding his arms, she ran her hands down the length of his soft silk shirt. "You have every right to be mad, and you know why?" "No, I don't," he whispered. "Tell me." Her face felt a little flushed, but luckily it was dark and he was not staring at her. "You earned the right," she emphatically told him. "I owe you so much, and you owe me nothing. And whether you think so or not, you are a part of my life, my only family. I realized that when I was in California, and especially when we got back and everyone became strangers. That piece of paper that says we're family doesn't mean anything. It's what you've done for me that makes it real. I want that. I want you to be a part of my life, now and forever." As she waited for his reply, it was an uneasy silence for her to withstand. Speaking from the heart had never been an easy thing for her, and this was hardly exception. Meaning every word that she had spoken, Kimiko gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, in the arms of a person she would have been all to grateful to have called father so long ago. No one else but Akane had ever made her feel truly comfortable, and even then, it was only in the final stage of their relationship. "I would be honored, Kimiko Nishiyama," Kiyoshi whispered solemnly, hugging her gently. "I feel the same way. You know, I've always been so alone throughout my life, but not recently, not anymore. You've really made my life more complete than it's ever been. And because of that, our debts to one another are cancelled." He paused, nuzzling her hair with his face. "I guess I was scared that you didn't need me anymore since you seem to have found a life and place with the Tendous again." As the car pulled to a stop at a light, Kimiko wondered about his last words. Had she found a place among the Tendous, as a friend to the children of her former fiancee? Granted they certainly liked her plenty, would that be enough for life to be tolerable so close to Akane? Could she live in the shadow of Akane's husband, forever glancing at the woman who should have been hers? Although her pride answered yes, that she could do it, her heart adamantly replied no, all the while her mind only gave reasons to both stay and leave. The whole thing felt like she was being dragged in both directions and her arms were beginning to tear off. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" Shrugging in reply, Kimiko sighed as her only answer. There were no plans for tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Life was already pushing enough in her face to deal with that plans could only make things more complicated. There were her remaining feelings for Akane and the awkwardness with Kenichi for starters, while further on the agenda laid the curse, Lily, and any number of smaller problems. "If you're not doing anything, why not come with me to visit some old associates of mine? I talked with them a week before, and they're dying to meet you. And I did sort of promise that I would introduce you." "Okay," Kimiko agreed quickly, having nothing better to do as it was. Even as she thought about it, she had not promised the Tendous anything for the following day anyway. Plus, it would be quite interesting to meet some of Kiyoshi's 'old associates,' though just how old they were, she could only speculate. "Who are they?" Kiyoshi hummed in reply, but took a moment to answer. "You'll really have to just wait and see. We're meeting at a Karaoke bar, around six or seven. That still sound okay with you?" "That's fine," she agreed, following that with a yawn. "What about before then? Are you busy?" "Unfortunately," he affirmed sadly. The journey continued, but their conversation was at its end for the time being. Between the smooth ride and the warmth, Kimiko began to drift in and out of sleep. Her brief sleep was pleasantly devoid of dreams, especially since her last. It had been so disturbing that it rendered the precious moments of rest she had obtained while unconscious nearly useless. A slight nudge roused her and she peeped her eyes open. Kiyoshi smiled down at her, and she sat up, realizing that she had been lying across the bench seat. The ride was over, having taken them to their destination, and Kimiko wearily rested her bare feet on the soft carpeting of the limousine. "I forgot my shoes at the Tendou's," she stated with a slurred voice. "I can carry you," he offered as the driver opened the door for them to exit. "No thanks," Kimiko replied, groggily following him. When offered, she took his arm and they went through the hotel until they arrived at the room. Under absolutely no illusion that she would stay awake much longer, Kimiko walked straight to and plopped on her bed. The digital clock next her read 10:39, but it felt so much later. That fight had been worth every ounce of energy she lacked now. It was the closest thing to a real fight that she probably would experience for a long time, mostly since no fiancees or rivals would be coming for her now. Though she did not even take off her clothes yet, the moment she settled her body comfortably, exhaustion consumed her. Resting his head against the backboard of the hotel bed, Kiyoshi stared at the door to the room. With the comforter bundled up by his feet, leaving only the top sheet to cover him, he controlled his breathing, inhaling and exhaling incredibly slowly. Something within him was bursting, but he firmly held it in check, unwilling to let anything reach the surface. How was he supposed to feel about this? These emotions were unfamiliar to him. A century of pain was enough to rob anyone of heart felt pleasure, and even the very memory of it. And now, someone extremely close to him, closer than he had been to nearly anyone, someone whom he feared he might reject with these emotions was evoking them. There was no doubt in his heart, mind or soul that what he was experiencing was love, and yet he did not wish to recognize it. To do so might de-evolve him back into the monster he once was, and he would rather fall straight into hell than repeat that past. Love was only a derivative of lust, and lust is candy to the body, but ultimately torture to the soul, his soul. And yet, that did not make any sense to him. He did not lust after her. He had not lusted after anyone since his reformation, within his conscious control, and somehow he knew that what he felt for his charge, his new sister, Kimiko was not lust. What was it then, a love a father might have for a daughter, a brother for a sister? Or was it something more? Kiyoshi simply did not have the experience to discern the answer to his grave problem. Questioning it only brought him more confusion, so he would need to sort his feelings, and hopefully shed some light on the situation. On one hand, he truly admired her. Kimiko's perseverance through the worst of situations, and her amazing ability to pull her wits together after something as traumatic as she had gone through were nothing less than astounding. The experience would have killed a lesser person, and it would have probably tried Kiyoshi to the limit as well. On the other hand, he thought her attractive, inside as well as out. Underneath, he saw the soul forged of steel, as brilliant as it was beautiful. Fighting beside her or against her, he felt the rush of her spirit brushing against him. She was so powerful, and held the ability for so much more, that he could not help but to be tantalized by it. To work with her so that she might reach her fullest potential was enough to keep him living another century or two, if it would be required of him to fulfill it. Without, she was a beauty as well. From the way she approached a fight, sauntering over to her opponent like a lethal viper, to the time the sun sparkled off her skin when he had taken her to the southern California beaches, he could not think of words to express the anxiety he felt. If not even for that, her smile easily broke past his inner defenses, even occasionally stealing away his wits. If it had not been for that moment in the car when Kimiko fell asleep against him, he might not have even come to realize what he was dealing with now. She had seemed so helpless in his arms with her hair splashed up against him, and then she had turned to face him, propped up on her left shoulder with her head resting against his right arm like a pillow. It had hit him so strongly when she reached around his waist and hugged him tightly, whispering softly in her sleep. His spine had tingled, and that feeling seemed to have spread all over his body. Breaking his concentration, Kiyoshi kicked off his sheets and swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Could that have been love? He wondered. He wondered if fathers had ever felt like that holding their daughters, so close to their child, sharing a bond that defied explanation and logic. Was that it? Could all that he have felt for her merely be a strong attachment he had developed over the year he had been training her? Although it seemed that way, he did not think it was the complete answer. He was a father to her in some ways, but their relationship was filled with entirely too much mutual respect for each other to simply write off everything with such an explanation. There was definitely something else to the equation. He needed to find out what that was and control it, before it could ever gain the possibility of controlling him. In his life, his profession and with his past, there simply was no room for unsolved mysteries. Lowering himself off the bed, his feet met the cool, wooden floor. The pant legs of his pajama bottoms fell into place, tickling his ankles. Adjusting his long sleeved top, he walked to the door and opened it. The small hall was completely dark, because the room to both Kimiko's room and the living room were both closed tightly, and his room was already entirely pitch black. Cautiously turning the knob to Kimiko's door, he took a deep breath. As he pushed the door open, he quietly tiptoed into the room, and then shut the door behind him. Her soft, slow-rhythm breathing keyed him in to realize that she slept very soundly. Feeling his way through the dark, he found the foot of her bed and walked around to its side. From the sound of her breathing, he judged her to be in the middle of the bed, so he sat on the edge with his back to her. Reaching to the bedside table, he found the lamp and switched it on. It only shed a soft light with the first twist, and he had no need for any more light. Turning around to face her, he nearly chuckled at the sight. Completely dressed in all but her missing shoes, Kimiko lay on her side with both hands under her head, knees bunched up to her chest, and her mouth slightly open. She looked like she had in the car, so peaceful, innocent and so utterly helpless. A smile shaped on his lips as he watched her sleep. At times, Kimiko acted just as well as any adult and just as maturely, yet put in a situation with children, she would promptly shift her attitude to coincide with theirs. It seemed as if there was a struggle inside of her for dominance, the child that was never allowed to be and the adult she had grown up to become. It was the child inside of her that made him feel like a father to her, and it was the adult within her that confused his emotions. Right now the child in her beckoned to him. Leaning over, he slid her skirt off and then tossed it over onto the chair in the corner of the room. Drawing upon years of experience, he removed her bra without even ruffling her blouse, and then tossed that on top of her skirt. As she drew herself up into a ball, already shivering from the chill in the room, Kiyoshi sneaked the comforter from beneath her, sliding it to her feet. Lastly, he then covered her with it, tucking her in tightly so that only her head poked out. Satisfied, Kiyoshi paused at her bedside for a moment. Reaching over, he clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness once more. With a departing sigh, he turned and walked to door. As his hand hovered above the doorknob, he stopped. "Kiyoshi?" The whisper came from Kimiko, and he turned back around just as the lamp switched on again. Rubbing her face with one hand, and holding herself upright with the other, Kimiko groggily yawned. "It's me," he answered, calmly standing by the door. "I'm sorry I woke you." "Don't worry 'bout it," she said, propping herself against the headboard. "Something the matter?" Taking a deep breath, Kiyoshi wondered about that himself. Was there a real reason why he came here, maybe hoping that she would wake for him to speak with her. "Why don't you sit?" Patting the space next to her, she smiled at him, the same smile that he had thought about earlier. The adult within her was now in control, he could tell. Her easy smile, and the warm look in her eyes radiated comfort, it seemed, and he could only smile back. Walking around the bed again, he sat where she had indicated with his back to her. Unsure of what to say, of how he could explain his feelings to her, Kiyoshi remained silent in thought. "You wouldn't have come in here if something wasn't on your mind," she whispered in his ear. Draping her arms around him, she loosely hugged his back and rested her chin on his right shoulder. "Now tell me what's wrong, and don't give me any excuses either." Shrugging helplessly, Kiyoshi sat in silence for a moment before responding. "I couldn't sleep, so I went to check up on you and tuck you in." He felt bad about not divulging the entirety of his plight, but he did tell the truth. Even knowing she would not buy that as the whole story, he still did not know what he could tell her. "Thank you," Kimiko told her older brother, fondly tightening her hug for a moment. Even as she loosened her grip, she remained holding onto him. This way, he would not have a chance to escape before answering her question correctly. "I don't even remember falling asleep. You undressed me?" "Yeah," he replied softly. "What a nice older brother you are," she teased. Sitting back, she released him and rested against the backboard of the bed. Kiyoshi still faced away from her, staring at the floor. Curious to know what brought him here, she asked him again. "Now tell me why you really came in here. What's bothering you?" "I really don't even know," he answered, turning his body to half face her. The tone of his voice suggested he was trying to tell her something greater, because it was so serious. "It doesn't matter anyway." Already feeling rejuvenated from her short rest, Kimiko lifted her leg, and planted her foot squarely on his back with enough momentum to drive him to the floor. Breaking into giggles when his body met the wooden floor, she clutched her stomach. "Funny," Kiyoshi muttered as he rose from the floor. Nodding with agreement, Kimiko stopped laughing and only returned his glare with a smile. Sometimes he could be much too serious, and the next moment he would act like a little kid again. She just wished he would make up his mind. "If you're not going to tell me, at least make up something good. I was having a nice dream for once, and you interrupted it. Now sit down, facing me, and spit it out." Having seriously drawn her line, Kimiko crossed her arms and waited for him. With his hands indignantly placed on his hips, looking over to the door, Kiyoshi stood silently for a moment. He then shrugged and crawled up onto her bed to the very center where he crossed his legs and sat facing her. His steel gray eyes searched for something around the room, as if he was seeing it for the first time. Shaking her head, Kimiko pointed directly at his face, taking his attention. "Look here," she told him, and then pointed a finger back at herself. "No evading me like that. Just tell me and get it over with. What are you scared of?" "I'm scared of many things, Kimiko-chan," he replied stoically, now returning her stare. "But most of all, the fear that brought me here tonight." He blinked, building the drama, then folded his hands together, interlacing his fingers. "Well, what is it?" she asked, curious what one of the fiercest martial artists on the planet was afraid of. "Losing you," he answered so seriously that she had no doubt to the truth of his words. Blinking in disbelief, she peered at him. "What do you mean, losing me? Come on, that doesn't make any sense. I'm not going anywhere without you." "That's not how I meant," he began. "I was thinking more to the lines of losing you spiritually. From what I heard of your last battle, you weren't quite up to your usual standards, and in fact, quite distracted through a great portion of the fight." Shrugging him off, she began feeling a little defensive. This was definitely not something she felt like discussing, right now of all times. She knew what he was getting at, and it bothered her. Had they not already talked this over once? "I had a few things on my mind," she admitted, turning her head. "But, I got back in there once I realized Rintaro was so serious. Nothing serious. It's not like I lost or anything." Before he even said it, Kimiko knew his rebuttal would lie around her having fallen unconscious after the fight. "For all intensive purposes, you did lose. You were not on your mark, you took a beating, and you underestimated your enemy. I thought you were past all these amateur mistakes?" When Kimiko glanced at him briefly, she caught his intense glare. "Ok, so I messed up," she conceded. "I'll do better next time, big brother." Flashing her eyelashes at him, she giggled when he rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Kiyoshi. You really need to lighten up a little. It's not like my life was at stake." Though she had to admit she did take it too seriously at the time, she knew he was above harping on a few mistakes she had already realized that she made. "Sorry, but that's not what actually has me concerned." Here it comes, she thought to herself as the smile faded from her face. "And what would that be, then?" "I'm sure you already know, little sister," he whispered. "Enlighten me." If he was going to bring it up, he would have to say it himself. There was no way that she would let him fool her into blurting anything out. "Akane," he stated. The name itself sounded strange coming from his lips as he spoke it. "You have bottling up your feelings for her, not allowing yourself to grieve." Ignoring the growing tightness in her chest, she shook her head in fervent denial. She wanted to shout back, and speak every foul word in her vocabulary for both English and Japanese, but she did not because she knew he was right. Her watery eyes were enough to discredit her regardless of what she had to say anyway. "I'm sorry, love, but I'm right." He closed his eyes and yawned. "Your first love, the woman you were supposed to marry has taken another, and you can't even acknowledge that you're hurt. Well, you can act like that, but it doesn't change anything, except make things worse for you. And for me. And for anyone who comes within a thirty- meter radius. Don't hide your feelings, especially from me. Otherwise, you'll never recover." He stopped and opened his eyes. "What would you know about it, Kiyoshi?" She glared at him to prove her point, but instead of the usual jocular, cynical remark or some universal truth that she might have expected, he stunned her with the sincerity and content of his next words. "I had someone once," Kiyoshi quietly remarked, his voice solemn and serious. The twinkle in his eyes dimmed and the vitality of his manner diminished. He returned her stare, almost indignantly as he prepared to recount a tale long secured in the far reaches of his past, which was lukewarm at best. His steel-gray eyes fell to the side, unable to keep eye contact. "Really?" Kimiko innocently asked, drawing closer to her benefactor, intensely interested and surprised by his sudden openness. "Please tell me about it. I'm sorry I snapped at you." "It was a very long time ago," he admitted, resting his arms across his chest. He took a deep, sorrowful breath, but he did not withdraw from her and began a truthful tale. "I was in my early twenties." As he began, his seriousness faded slightly, returning the life previously occupying him, releasing some of Kimiko's worry over the man. "I was young and handsome, and she was only one year my junior, and very beautiful." He toyed with his shirtsleeves, staring intently at them, but his lips curled into a slight grin. "Handsome?" she asked, grinning smartly. "Okay, so maybe I wasn't the most attractive person in the world," he gave in, returning her infectious smile. "Or tall, for that matter." She giggled a bit and he let her finish for him to continue. "I was about your height now, and though I wasn't the greatest looker in the world, I wasn't ugly either. I met the would-be love of my life then. She was a farmer's daughter, a rich farmer, and I was a poor man's son, an unlikely and unwelcome match for her." The bitterness he expressed was muted by time, but Kimiko still could hear it in his tones. Time could make things hurt less, but it can never fully make things better. "Needless to say, things didn't work out as I fantasized." "When was this?" Kimiko interjected as he paused, intrigued with the knowledge. "It was almost twenty years before the first World War," he answered, rubbing his arms nervously. He continued with his tale. For the first time since she had come to know him as he presently was, he truly sounded his own age. Beauty was just a mask he wore, covering an ancient, tortured soul. The coldness of his eyes was warmed by his admission, and the darkness receded from his face. "I met her on a cloudy, starless night a month before the harvest moon. I was running a task for my father when I saw her for the first time. The waxing moon poked through clouds, its light dancing on her pale skin. Her long black hair shined, and her skin glowed. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen. My heart pounded fast in my chest, and my cheeks flushed. I can only imagine how foolish I must have looked, gawking at her as I had as she sat on the edge of the village well." From his pajama pocket on his left breast, he pulled a white silk handkerchief. Kimiko noted the reverence with which he held it, unconsciously stroking it with his thumb as he held it in the palm of his right hand. He sighed wistfully before he continued. "She did not even spare me a glance, though I gave her my complete attention. Had I decided to concentrate on completing the task set forth by my father, I might have saved myself from love, but instead I gathered my wits and introduced myself." He paused, replacing the handkerchief in his pocket. "Don't stop now," Kimiko playfully whined. Kiyoshi nodded with a weak grin. "She looked up at me after I said my name, and she smiled. It sent waves of energy through my body. I knew that smile was meant for me, and then she told me her name. I remarked that it was a nice night and she agreed. She offered me a seat next to her, but I politely protested, saying that I had a task to complete. We bid each other farewell, and I went on my own way." He paused again, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "We kept running into each other after that, but in reality, we finally noticed one another. We lived in a small town, one that her father virtually owned. "One night, she appeared at my window, her face bruised, blood streaked on her cheeks." Kimiko gasped, completely absorbed within his tale. "I asked her what had happened, but she lied and said that she fell off her horse. I did not believe her, but I kept my opinion to myself. I went with her to a lake that night, and held her until it was nearly dawn." A tear broke free, spilling onto his cheek. He shut his eyes. "We spent more time together after that, in secret. It was harmless, innocent companionship, and yet love started to bloom. I spent my days in agony, needing her every moment, waiting until I could see her again, and I spent my nights holding her, kissing her, staring into her eyes. "And like a fairy tale gone bad, it ended one night." "What do you mean?" Kimiko asked, empathizing with him. "Did she break it off?" "No," he replied solemnly. "One night, she appeared at my window again. I hardly recognized her out of her silk dresses. She wore a traveler's clothes and had a big pack on her back. Her only words were, 'Come with me.' And so I jumped out my window, having prepared for our tryst. She begged me to run away with her, to put as much distance between our home as we could. I never thought about such a thing before -- it just simply never occurred to me." He stopped, his eyes still shut as a few tears streaked down his face. "You went with her right?" Kiyoshi opened his red, watery eyes and looked into hers, deadly serious. "No." The word carried like varnish, peeling away her eardrums. "I didn't." "What do you mean, 'I didn't'?" She clenched her first, staring at him in shock. "You had the love of your life in front of you, willing to travel with you to the ends of the earth if need be, and you said 'no'?" She could hardly control herself as she glowered at him. "I mean just that. I did not go with her." His eyes stared back, challenging, the darkness returned to him. "I told her that I had to think about it -- that there were things I had to do. I couldn't just leave my father like that...since my mother passed on, only he and I remained at the house. Did I have the right to indulge myself like that, at my father's expense?" "Yes!" Kimiko shouted, screaming in his face. "You had every right to do that!" She sat, regaining her composure, pulling the covers up to cover her up to the neck. "You didn't have a right to turn her down though." Kiyoshi nodded, glancing at his feet. "You're right of course." He looked back up at her, finishing his tale. "She said she understood, dropped her staff and the handkerchief which I keep in my pocket to this day. She married a stranger that next day. Her father had arranged a marriage for her, and until she met me, she had resigned herself to never love anyone." He fell silent after that, fingering the scarf in his pocket. Kimiko could not respond, yet she felt the need to offer some sort of comfort, especially after her earlier criticism. She brushed the scarlet bangs from her eyes, and he looked at her, nodding. "I'm sorry," she apologized, and she looked into his steel gray eyes. They were flushed with tears. Yet he did not shy his face from her as she would have in embarrassment. "Don't be," he replied calmly as a tear streaked down his right cheek. "It's long past, but wounds to the heart never completely heal. I may not know what you're going through, but I know how it feels to love someone and then lose them." He lowered his head and the tear fell from his face, absorbed by the bed. "I never saw her again after that. I didn't have the courage to face her for my crimes, and it ate away at me until I became the sociopath you knew me to be before." Raising his head, he smiled. "Don't let the pain eat you from the inside out. I became an uncaring monster, and that slowly turned to perversion -- I did not care how others felt about it." He paused for a moment. "I won't," Kimiko lied, as she could already feel the gnawing pain within her, love forever lost, burning away virtue, sparing only vice. Her thoughts returned to her own situation, agony from its poisoned blade seeping into her, coursing through her veins. Still reeling from the news of Akane's new life, she regarded her own. With but a few friends, she had dared to hope to overcome the emptiness. "Don't even think that life is over just because your fiancee married someone else," Kiyoshi told her as if reading her thoughts. "I know you, Ranma Saotome, and I know you to be a fighter, to the death if required of you." Her name burned in her mind as he continued. "If I were to tell you that the world was going to end tomorrow, and nothing you can do would stop it, would you even try?" Kimiko considered his question for a moment, and then answered. "Of course. You know how many times I've heard that?" The scowl she did not even know was there dissipated from her face and a lopsided grin took its place. "Well, now fate is telling you that you will never love another again, and that your life is over. Are you just going to roll over and die?" "No!" she replied, throwing away the covers in outrage. "Of course I'm not giving up! Not when..." She paused, realizing what she had been about to say. Not when her revenge laid unfulfilled. "Not when what, Kimiko?" He whispered harshly. "Not when you still have a score to settle with a man who has eighteen years on you? Not when you have to train to be able to defeat him? Now when what? Or not when you still have a life to live, love to find, and friends to be with?" "I don't know, Kiyoshi," she whispered, gathering the sheets around her again. "I just don't know. I never once imagined my life without Akane. I was so confident that a miracle would pull me through this, and we'd live happily ever after like it's supposed to be." Shaking her head, she continued. "How many times do I have to tell myself it's over? How long must I delude myself like Kunou did? I bet he still wonders where the evil sorcerer Saotome has taken his pig- tailed girl, but even he's not crazy enough to think that anything's going to happen after eighteen years!" "Not unless Gosunguki's heir hits you with a working love spell, and the first person you see is Kunou," Kiyoshi pointed out with a grin. Staring at him for a moment, she tried to comprehend his words with her anger-clouded mind. Then, she suddenly burst out into laughter, clutching her sides. "Oh God, that wasn't funny," she hoarsely whispered between gasps for air. "That's why you're a stuffy business man, and not a comedian." "Hey," Kiyoshi protested. "At least it broke your 'poor me' speech." "I was not feeling sorry for myself!" Kimiko snapped, frowning. "I was simply saying...oh, you're right." She wiped her eyes with her arm and shrugged. "So what should I do now, all-knowing, super intelligent leader?" With an ominous smile, Kiyoshi slid off the back of her bed, still facing her. As he drew backwards, opening the door, he turned. "Go to sleep." "Ahh!" she cried, throwing a pillow at the door as he shut it behind him. Sitting upright still, Kimiko felt neither the desire nor the need to sleep more. She felt strangely energetic for minimal sleep and an exhausting previous day. Looking at the digital clock by her bedside, she read, "3:54." Shaking her head, she wondered aloud, "After all of that, he expects me to sleep?" * * * The neon lights of Tokyo lit the pre-dawn morning, leaving no room for the natural darkness. Something about the city always left him feeling nauseous. Whether the putrid, carbon dioxide polluted air, the perpetual motion of vehicles through its streets, or the thumping, sickly out of tune music burning his ears, the city always found a new way to disgust him, every time he found his way back. If it had been a choice of his, he never would return, but fate always led him here. Although not nearly as bad as the day, Tokyo nights were still more busy than most urban centers of the world. Passing more than a few love hotels, the man repressed a shudder just at the thought of the filth which must pass through their doors every day and night. Could he have found any worse place to be this night? Simply being in Japan reminded him of his family, and that was never a good thing. It was far better to be lost where he did not even know the language, where his concerns only consisted of finding his next meal, or finding shelter to avoid the rain. Here in Tokyo, he had a place, and somehow he always found it. The streets were devoid of people, except for the occasional neon armored enforcer. Those were just another reason to avoid this God forsaken city. They would always demand to see his papers, and even after double checking them with their magic little portable computer scanners, they would still call into their headquarters for a third check. Even then, they would most likely follow him until they satisfied their tiny little minds that he planned no misdeeds. An enforcer was approaching him now, the bright red baton lit with stunning electricity, helmet and face shield glowing with enough light to bestow the officer with night vision and a portable computer screen. When his eldest son was no higher than his knee, the child had declared to the world that he would be the "bestest" law enforcer ever. He still thanked the heavens that his son changed his mind, because it seemed that the equipment killed brain cells to him. Not one of these jokers ever took his word, or even his papers, at face value. The neon red enforcer held out his baton when the distance between them was only about ten feet. A light, very feminine voice called out to him through the amplification of her shoulder speaker. "What are you doing out here this early?" "Minding my own business," he replied coldly, provoking her for lack of a better thing to do. Maybe this one would try to push her magic wand at him. That would be very much fun, especially when he saw the look on her face when she realized the weight he carried in society. "Show me your identification papers," she stated neutrally, much to his disappointment. There would be no fight with her this morning. From an easy to reach spot from his jacket pocket, he retrieved the small card and the curfew breach authorization papers, and then handed them to her. Although he did not need to show the papers, since the card contained the information when it was scanned, he carried it anyway, more to show that he did not steal the identification card than anything. The enforcer did not even consider the paper, rather she simply scanned the card with the bracelet on her wrist. They waited a moment, and then the activity on her red tinted face shield showed that it was checked with her computer. "Thank you, sir," she replied cordially, handing him his papers. "Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice morning." With a brash nod, the man walked past the officer, continuing his aimless journey. A huge digital clock on a large tower on his left read 4:37. The city streets were so bright that it could have been noon for all he would have been able to tell, except for the lack of the sun. No clouds shrouded the night sky, but instead was the glare of a hundred million burning streetlights and buildings, all reflected on the haze of smog. The moon tonight was barely bright enough to be noticeable in the sky. It would be dawn within an hour or two. Hopefully, he would be out of the city by then, but he doubted it. Something always had to happen before he could leave again. That probably meant going home. If that would be his fate, so be it. He would face his wife and his children, no matter how better off they were without him. * * * 5:12. Kimiko waited while every second passed by, silently lying in the darkness. Even with the comforter and sheets thrown to the foot of the bed, the enclosed warmth of the room was still quite uncomfortable. Thoroughly plastered to her chest with sweat, the huge shirt she wore made it all the harder to fall asleep. Considering the day before and her lack of rest, she would have thought herself to be sleeping soundly by now. Twisting restlessly, she turned on her side. It was safe to assume she would not be going to fall asleep any time soon, so she sat up in her bed, swinging her feet over the edge. She thought about what to do, since there were still several hours until dawn. According to Kiyoshi, Tokyo now had a strict curfew, which could not be broken without legal permission. Although it was still dark, she doubted that it would still be in effect. "Lights," she whispered, warding the darkness from the room as her the voice activated globe in the center of the bedroom. Before meeting Kiyoshi, she would have never even conceived of such luxurious accommodations. To say that she enjoyed it was completely off base. For her, someone who was used to the bare minimum in the ways of comfort, the hotel symbolized what she was not and never had. Having one's own personal bathroom attached to a room, which was bigger than most living rooms, took a little getting adjusting to. As she stood, she was tempted to walk in the hall to find the bathroom, but swiftly redirected herself. Finding the sink, she put her hands underneath the faucet, activating the cold water. It was so chilled that it stung her skin, as if the pipes were frozen, spitting out fine chunks of ice rather than water. Soap automatically mixed with the water as it grew warm, something which took even greater getting used to than having her own bathroom; after which, the plain water then coursed out, rinsing her hands clean. As she removed her them from the sink, the water ceased. The wonders of technology seemed to be designed for the lazy. Stripping to her panties, Kimiko walked to the shower and turned it on. Hot water immediately flowed from the head, steaming as it met with the cool air in the bathroom. "Cold," she stated. As she tested it with her hand, the stream of water almost instantly changed in temperature, from tolerably hot to icy cold, just the way she liked it. Shedding the final garment, she plunged herself face first into the near freezing water. After the uncomfortable, sweaty lack of sleep, this was like a breath of fresh air. Minutes after cleaning properly, Kimiko she was dressed in sweats and sneakers ready to take a real breath of fresh air, although Tokyo was hardly the place for it. It felt odd being up so early, especially considering the time she would usually wake. After a brief elevator ride, she walked into the lobby and up to the front desk. "Madam?" The concierge asked after sipping from a cup of steaming hot coffee. "If my brother, Kiyoshi Nishiyama, asks where I went," she began, beginning some leg stretches. "Tell him I went on a jog." "Of course, Nishiyama-san," the man replied with a nod. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" "No, and thanks," she concluded, leaving the hotel. Expecting the darkness of the early morning, Kimiko had forgotten that she was in Tokyo, the most annoyingly bright city in the world. The night felt like day. Heavy clouds covered the sky, illuminated dark purple by the city's lights, masking the moon and the stars, though the latter would have been washed out regardless. The streets were practically devoid of pedestrians, though cars streaked by in an endless chain of shiny metal. The air was thick with carbon dioxide pollution, but she could ignore the sour odor for a while. When she had asked the front desk about places to run when she arrived, the attendant had mentioned a park that was not too far off from the hotel, and from his description, she was under the impression that had cleaner air than the rest of the city and was a pleasant place to exercise. She would have preferred a nice spar with one of the twins--both if she was not still sore from yesterday--but a nice run would help with her sore muscles. In fact, Kimiko thought that she even remembered the park. As she began her jog at a brisk pace across the paved concrete sidewalks, Kimiko read the different neon signs. She was glad to be back in Japan, where she did not have to think about all of the letters before understanding them. Japanese and English mixed about as well as oil and water, but she was beginning to decipher them on paper with similar proficiency. Unfortunately though, much had changed in the Japanese language that the Kanji on some of the signs were unfamiliar, sending her right back to feeling like an outsider. But she was an outsider, technically. According to her visa, she was a citizen of the United States, not Japan. Just speaking the language had not been enough to alleviate the prejudice, and make one an accepted resident of Japan. As of yet, she had not experienced any problems in this regard. Had the city, the people, changed that much? The difficulty, or lack there of, seemed inconsequential compared to the reality shaping around her. Just as the streets widened and the skyscrapers became sparse, she wondered if her horizons, her future, had yet been determined. Never a firm believer in any religion, Kimiko had long ago decided to make herself the best person she could in order to avoid the issue of devoting oneself to a particular religion in order save one's soul. That did not mean she had not looked into a few of the more popular ones. Many were recipes for predestination: the idea that the fate of humans was determined by some divine being or beings; the others called for the free will of humans, undetermined by the divine. The whole idea of it made her want to stop thinking about things that she would never be able to discover while still breathing, though at times she could not help wondering. Was it fate, some divine presence, that brought things together as they did, her separation from the ones she had loved and the consequential reunion, or was it just a random act set forth by the major players in her life? She could not help but wonder why everything had to end as it did, forever tearing her from Akane and forever sealing away that part of herself she so desired back. Stopping at a four-way intersection, Kimiko stood, waiting for the light to change. She looked around, and seeing no one around, she jogged across the street. Not breathing heavily yet, she picked up the pace as she ran across the squared concrete of Tokyo city. Around the corner, the park awaited her. "Give me your hand, Ranma," Akane had said to her so many years ago at the same spot that Kimiko now intended to visit. The memory seemed locked within folds of metal, each having been slowly unwrapped with every moment she spent in Japan and around the Tendous. "Why?" Ranma had demanded, effectually driving his foot down his mouth. "Fine then!" Akane had replied, spinning around and charging into the park. "You can walk by yourself, baka." "Wait up, Akane! I didn't mean it!" Realizing that she had stopped, Kimiko cleared her throat and headed in the park's direction. The gates to the only green in a city of metal and concrete stood a block and a half from her, and she began sprinting, as if they would close, forever locking her out. "Why should I?" Akane's voice had cried out as she rushed through the gates. An almost childlike giggle was what had followed Akane's feigned anger. "I'm going to beat you there, Ranma!" "No way!" Ranma had yelled, running after her as fast as he could. Chasing the phantoms of her past, Kimiko gritted her teeth as she ran towards the gates. Even now she could see herself chasing Akane through them. Heedless of her path, she charged down the sidewalk, concentrating on nothing but catching the two, a fleeting memory of a past that was rightfully hers. As they disappeared from her sight, she slammed into the metal bars of the closed gate with her arms extended. "Wait for me!" Kimiko cried out, shaking the bars with all of her strength. "Don't leave me..." Footsteps echoed softly, slowly growing louder with the approach of a stranger. She looked up as fresh tears blurred her vision, having yet to slide down her cheeks. An elderly man wearing dreary gray clothes and a wide brown hat stopped in front of her on the other side of the closed gates. He smiled warmly. "Please, don't cry, miss," he whispered, retrieving a key chain from his pant pocket. With his other hand, he took a handkerchief from the pocket of his gray shirt. Pushing it through the bars of the gate, he handed it to her. "There, wipe those pretty eyes dry." "Thank you, sir," she replied, drying around her eyes. She handed it back when she finished. "Could you please open the gate?" "Of course," he agreed, smiling warmly. He selected a key from the mass of metal dangling from the key ring in his hand. Methodically pushing it into the lock, he then twisted it. With a creak, the gate lurched back slightly. "What is your name, young lady?" Smiling despite herself, Kimiko helped him open the gates. "I'm Kimiko Nishiyama." After bowing to the man, she pushed the gates open until they locked into place. "I am Hitoshi Yoshida, the caretaker of this garden." Resting up against the gate, he paused. "What brings you here so early, Nishiyama-san?" Two light posts stood on either side of them, shining down so brightly that the old man was forced to squint, causing his bushy white brows to envelop his eyes. The man had two shadows, both barely visible, like the gray of his clothes up against the white of the sidewalk. They stood pointing away from each other, which if looked at in a certain way, appeared to be shaped as a Y, with Yoshida-san as the base of the letter and the two shadows as the V standing atop of him. "I was just jogging," Kimiko told him, staring down at her shoes. "I didn't know that the garden closed at all. I'm sorry if I'm early." "Oh, don't worry," Hitoshi replied, waving her in. "I'm just sorry that I have to close the garden at all. Those with no where else to go used to stay here at night, but the authorities did not like that, so they ordered us to close the garden after sundown until dawn." Wiping his forehead with his hand, he shook his head. "It's really a shame. Even the unfortunate should be able to enjoy the flowers, even if they only mean to sleep among them." The two walked down the gravel path through a thick grove of trees. The park was almost surreal in the midst of such a large city, containing that which had ceased to exist everywhere else. Breathing in deeply, Kimiko enjoyed how sweet the air seemed, almost untouched by the polluters of the city. A light fog crept over their heads as they walked the pack, but Kimiko barely noticed in her enjoyment. "I didn't know they grew flowers here," she remarked, watching each step she took, as her foot rose and fell, kicking up just a bit of dirt with every one. "When was the last time you visited the garden?" Hitoshi asked as he walked beside her. "It's been a long time," she admitted, not willing to tell him just how many years it really had been. "I was little at the time, I guess." "Oh," he replied, stopping as they reached a fork intersection. "Why don't we head towards lake?" "Okay," she agreed, following his lead. The sound of a bubbling brook trickling through the thick grove of trees echoed in the distance off to her right as they took the left path. Neatly divided in half by the path, the trees were an obvious addition, because the last time Kimiko had been here there were almost but a few. A field of green grass in all directions, with only the buildings in the horizon was the sight that would have been seen here twenty years ago. "You'll never catch me, Ranma!" Akane had shouted back as she sprinted across the field. Her yellow dress rippled in the wind like a flag flown in the sky above. As Akane held onto her hat, her image raced past Kimiko, shortly followed by the image of her former self. He wore his usual outfit of black pants and a red Chinese shirt. Kimiko looked at the gardener to see if he had seen the specters, but the old man did not appear to notice them. "I used to own a flower shop," Hitoshi told her, keeping his pace beside her. "Flowers are good for the spirit. Their essence is both physically and spiritually rejuvenating. I owe my health to them." He paused, rubbing his chilled arms. "When my shop closed, I was offered a position here to tend the new flower garden they had planted. That was shortly after they imported these wonderful trees." Though she had not forgot about her jog, listening to the gardener talk about the park. He imparted many details about the beautiful place as they walked down the path leading towards the lake in the garden's center. He stopped as they reached the enchanting lake, surrounded by benches like an encirclement of rocks around the comfortable warmth of a campfire. The lampposts filling the park shone brightly, reflecting of the serene water. With summer's late dawn, artificial light would spew here for hours yet, dispelling the natural feel of the garden. "Please enjoy yourself here, Nishiyama-san. If you need anything, I'll be in the garden just west of here." "Thank you, Yoshida-san," Kimiko said. "I'm sure I will." With that said, the two departed, the gardener to his flowers and Kimiko to jog alongside the memories of her past. The dirt trail softly crunched beneath her feet with every step she took. Her surroundings blurred as she practically threw herself down the path around the lake. Her lungs burned with each breath of cold air she inhaled through her nose. Controlling one's breathing was the key of longevity of one's stamina. That she had learned as a small child, her father the teacher, the endless road the obstacle. Following directly behind Kimiko, a black shadow ran just as quickly as she did, mimicking her steps perfectly. It grew darker as it caught up to her, running beside her. She glanced at it casually, watching it pass her with just as much ease. Lighter and lighter it became as it drifted from her. Just as the first had, a second shadow slowly materialized behind her, running swiftly on her heels. As the second gained definition, the first lost its, slowly vanishing on the dirt trail. Turning to look at the second shadow, Kimiko accelerated her pace, tearing down the path with abandon. Fated to be caught, she looked down, watching it quickly catch up to her, to run beside her as the first had moments before. Sliding to a halt on her heels, Kimiko stared down at the shadow, which had only a slight lead on her, but it had stopped as well. She turned, barely making out the form of a third shadow waiting to take shape and join the race. The first shadow had past her, left her behind and then vanished; it was the past. The second now stood beside her, strong and healthy; it was the present. The third shadow was only an image in the distance, unclear and its shape undetermined; it was the future. What shape would the third take? Would it be more similar to the first, or the second? Time--it seemed to her--was the enemy, a timer with no pause button, a race with no break or end. There were no breathers for her this time. She could only pray that she would be able to keep up. But was time really the enemy? She wondered. It could have been just an illusion to keep her from making the right choice. Lily had warned her of three challenges; what were they? Kiyoshi had told her that something dangerously wrong was approaching. Could that have been what the spirit had warned her about? As she ran, Kimiko thought of Kiyoshi for a moment, remembering their talks and all the advice her had given her. It warmed her thinking about him, because somehow he had become a part of her life, so entrenched that she could not face her past without him. As much as it wounded her pride to need someone, Kimiko found it easy to swallow when it concerned Kiyoshi. It only recently occurred to her that it was love that allowed her to do that. Love was such an ambiguous term to her, especially now that she could feel it without the fear of abandonment. Coming to terms with something like that was difficult, but somewhere along the line, it had ceased to be an issue. If was replaced with when, and hesitation with assurance. Fear of being close to Kiyoshi dissipated completely. How could she even think of it when he opened himself up so fully to her? Only one real concern remained in her, but it was so deep that she had very little knowledge of it: becoming too close. There were so many factors involved in their relationship. From Kiyoshi's former identity, to her insecurity with her natural, if unaccepted sexual preference, to any number of other things, she knew it would be impossible. Perhaps that was why Kimiko allowed herself to become very close with Kiyoshi; a closer relationship was a virtual impossibility. She could hug, kiss or sleep next to him without any fear of his intentions. That casual love relieved immense amounts of stress that had built upon on her shoulders. She had never known how good it could feel to be completely accepted by someone, without fear of rejection. Her relationship with Akane had been the opposite, built up on mutual distrust that had only bloomed a few months before Ranma's sudden departure. She could never have told Akane everything like she could with Kiyoshi. One wrong word would have left her pounded to the floor like one Akane's straw dummies. Laughter echoed from behind Kimiko, causing her to slow, then stop. She turned around, watching Akane quickly run past her. The teenage Akane stopped only a few feet from where Kimiko stood, panting. Ranma almost barreled into her as he came charging down the way, but managed to halt mere inches from her. "Told you I'd win, Ranma." The words spoken by Akane carried well and were honey to Kimiko's ears. "You just got lucky, that's all," Ranma muttered, kicking at the dirt with his foot. He looked up and smiled. Of course, Kimiko knew that she had let Akane win that day. Seeing the pride on Akane's face had been worth throwing the race. Slowing her breathing, Akane shook her head. "It wasn't luck, and to prove it, I'll race you to the lake!" She quickly turned and bolted straight through the trees, where an empty field should have been. "Cheater!" Ranma yelled at her as he ran to catch up. Kimiko only frowned as she, too, sprinted to follow. Exactly as she had remembered it, Kimiko watched Ranma sweep Akane off her feet and carry her all the way down to the lakeside. Their laughter filled the silence of the early morning park as Kimiko caught up to the couple. Walking with Akane still held close in his arms, Ranma smiled. Kimiko dashed up to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. Though he did not notice or turn back, Kimiko felt him. She quickly released him in shock, staring as he walked up to the lake and set Akane down. Shaking off her surprise, the redhead leapt to sit beside them, hoping they would not disappear. "Can you hear me?" Kimiko asked as the two sat by the lakeside. "Please, Ranma, Akane, can you hear me?" Neither responded. With great curiosity, Kimiko slid to lie next to Akane as the two laid there on their backs, staring up at the sky. Three lay there, but only one saw nothing but darkness and a hazy purple sky. Although a mixture of orange and gray poked out in the east, it would probably take the sun hours to burn away the clouds enough to be spotted. Kimiko only sighed. "What is going on?" Her words sounded strange, spoken against the silence of everything else. "Why does this stuff have to torture me like this?" Akane stirred, brushing up against Kimiko's arm. "Huh?" the dark-haired girl whispered. "What is it?" Ranma asked, sitting up. Kimiko looked at Akane with wide eyes as the girl looked straight through her. "I could have sworn I felt something touch my arm," Akane told him. "Never mind it. Must've been my imagination." "I was scared it was Shampoo, or Ukyou, or someone," Ranma whispered, laying his head back. "Or worse, Happosai." Akane still stared through Kimiko. The redhead had yet to take her eyes away from the Akane. Wondering if it would work again, Kimiko drew her finger across Akane's left shoulder slowly. Her heart beat faster than drums in a heavy metal band. "There it is again!" Akane cried, looking around. "It touched my shoulder this time!" Ranma sat up quickly and leaned over Akane, swiping his arms at the air, barely missing a dodging Kimiko. "Nothing," Ranma told her. Still leaning over her, he looked down with a grin. "What are you smiling at?" Akane asked, looking up at him with shiny eyes. "Nothing," Ranma sighed, lying back again. That was the moment Kimiko realized this had not happened to her and Akane when they had been lying by the lake that day. Their moment ended about ten minutes later when clicks from a camera from behind them soiled the moment, but never did she remember that exchange. Perhaps Kimiko was changing her past? More daring this time, the redhead stood and walked around to Ranma. His eyes were closed as the warm sun, which Kimiko could not see or feel, shined down upon him. Akane looked similar, though she occasionally glanced over her left shoulder. Sitting close enough to kiss her former self, Kimiko stared at Ranma's carefree face. Swinging one leg over to Ranma's left, and leaving the other on his right, she held herself, hovering over him with her hands that pressed against the cold grass beside his head. The sticky wetness of dew wedged itself between her fingers as she stared down at him. How would he react to feeling someone on top of him, considering he felt it at all? What am I doing? Kimiko thought, teeth chattering above her former persona. In that very second, Ranma opened his eyes, quickly focusing them on Kimiko who could do nothing but stare. It took no more than a second, but as Ranma sat up, Kimiko felt herself being seized by strong arms. "Who...?" Ranma's question suddenly cut off as his back arched with a spasm. There was a moment when even the artificial light lamps above her disappeared, leaving her in total darkness. The very next, she lay staring up at the bright blue sky. Sitting up slowly, Kimiko looked in amazement over the clear blue lake and the vast fields of green of her memory. "Ranma, are you okay?" Akane looked at Kimiko with concern, putting a hand on her shoulder. Looking down at herself, Kimiko saw a set of clothes so lost to her, she thought the comfortable feel of them would never be hers again. The red shirt and black pants of her past covered her body loosely like they always had. Wrapping her arms around herself, Kimiko felt her body. A flat, muscular chest first met her hands, and she nearly coughed in surprise. Taking Kimiko's shoulder with her other hand, Akane pulled her so they faced each other. "What the heck is wrong with you, Ranma?" Mild irritation bubbled in Akane's voice. "I...I...I..." Kimiko's voice was lost to her as she fought to take control of the emotions bursting within her. "What is it, Ranma? Tell me!" Concern colored her eyes as Akane stared in Kimiko's eyes. Pausing, Kimiko found her center, her balance, and her calm. Energy welled up within her as she placed her hands over Akane's. Three words that she had not spoken for such a long time, more heartfelt than she had ever spoken them resounded from her mouth. "I love you," she whispered to Akane. It was a sucker punch to the dark-haired girl that she had not seen coming. A month early from the original date spoken, the words echoed in Kimiko's mind over and over. God, how she waited to say that again. Giving Akane a moment to collect her wits, Kimiko only reached up, brushing her hand against Akane's face. "Ranma?" Akane's whisper was hoarse, her eyes and mouth wide, face pale. "Yes, Akane?" Breaking their eye contact, Akane dropped her arms to her sides and shied her face from Kimiko. "There's something I have to tell you." A hundred thousand responsibilities seemed to weigh down on Akane's shoulders she spoke. A tear spilled onto her cheek before she continued. "I'm listening," Kimiko told her true love, burning with passion for the girl in front of her. "I'm so sorry," Akane said, crawling away quickly, but stumbling as she attempted to stand up. "God, I'm so sorry." "Wait, Akane! Don't leave!" Kimiko stood, catching Akane in a hug before she could get away. "What are you sorry for?" Akane could not look up, her eyes turned towards the lake. Her voice was lifeless and barely sounded recognizable. Her words were something else entirely: "It's too late...I'm already married to Ryouga..." In one breath, Akane did what no one had ever done before. She totally annihilated every ounce of fight within Kimiko's soul. Even as Kimiko, in Ranma's body, fell to the grass in agony, Akane took off across the ocean of green. The wet dew met her entire body this time, triggering the change. "It's not supposed to be like this," she sobbed, unable to hold back the flooding emotion. It felt as if her entire soul was tainted by the distorted reality she existed within, but when she finally lifted her face from the grass, she took a deep breath. The warmth of the sun had faded away, leaving her in the wet, early morning dew, wearing her sweats and stuck in the present once more. Her teeth chattered as she pulled herself to her feet. With tears sliding down her cheeks. She breathed in rapidly, unable to shrug off the after effect of adrenaline, leaving her shaking in her running shoes. "What the hell is wrong with me?" Kimiko demanded, palming her forehead as if to massage a headache. Relaxing her body and slowing her breathing, she regained her bearings. Standing right where she had imagined herself to be in the past, Kimiko scanned the garden. Trees blocked the way she had come, but the lake laid spread out before her, as with the path around it. A bench, no more than fifty feet along one side of the lake beckoned her. A light post stood next to it on the path, as if a spotlight for whoever would sit in the bench. Kimiko trudged over to the wooden bench and plopped herself down on the right side of it, causing the flimsy boards to creek in protest. Flopping her right elbow on the rusted iron armrest, she propped her head on her hand. Exhaling sharply, she closed her eyes against the burning brightness of the light. "Tell me, Lily," Kimiko began nonchalantly. "What in God's name is going on with me? I can't walk two steps without hallucinating, and it's just getting worse!" Silence answered her question. "Come on!" she growled, wiping her face with the sleeve of her left arm. "I'm not talking to myself, you know. I know you're out there, doing whatever it is you spirits do. Show yourself!" As if she were King Arthur beckoning the Lady of the Lake forth, to claim the magical Excalibur from the depths of its watery sheath, out Lily appeared from the water, glowing with a faint white aura. Kimiko tried to keep her face neutral, as the specter appeared, slowly walking towards her. She could only wonder if Lily had to appear like that, or if it was just for affect. Either way, it intimidated Kimiko very much. The ghost drew forward, skimming the surface of the water, and then the ground as if they were frozen over and she was a block of ice sliding across. Sitting up straight, Kimiko froze with her eyes wide. As Lily came close enough to see her form, Kimiko realized that she could barely make out her features, as if she were displayed, white on white with only the fuzzy picture of a out of focus snapshot. When the specter hovered at the edge of the water, she stopped, as if blocked by an invisible shield. With a slow come hither wave, the spirit beckoned Kimiko. Suddenly fearful of her choice to summon the spirit, she stood and walked towards her. "A dark soul comes this way," a voice hissed, seemingly from all direction, although the ghost had spoken the words. "You must-" Her words were cut off, as if she were on television and someone had muted the volume of her speech. "What, Lily?" she asked, stopping right in front of the ghost. "I can't hear you. Speak up." The ghost's eyes opened wide and she covered her mouth with her hands in surprise, then as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished without a trace. Kimiko reeled at the development. Was the spirit unable to communicate now? She had been so easy to talk with before. "Lily? Are you still here?" Kimiko scanned in all directions, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "Okay, I'll look out for this dark soul, but what must I do?" So much for spiritual advice, she thought wryly. Walking towards the bench, Kimiko shrugged. Under the shadow of dead angels, he walked. Like a meteorite crashing down from the heavens, unable to stop its decent to shatter the earth beneath it, he traveled Fate's concrete path, without one thought to change it. He did not care which direction he headed, preferring each destination to be a surprise. Where as life could get you down, the road never told lies. For a black-hearted man such as he, truthful answers to questions were not ones he would usually give, and the lack of those were bliss for him. "Why do you always have to travel, daddy?" The words of his children echoed in his mind. "I miss you, daddy!" "Please don't be gone long!" "Daddy, you're back!" "Daddy, I love you!" How could he reply to that, to those innocent faces, as of yet untainted by the evil within him? Maybe running away made him a coward, but staying would have only endangered those around him. Why was he fleeing to the road's cold embrace over his wife's warm one? That was a question he could not answer with certainty any longer. Five years ago he might have been, but today nothing was the same. Only lingering guilt remained, for something that was more of a dream than a reality, paranoia perhaps. Feelings faded, memories blurred and pain vanished during his travels. Except for a few random and very brief appearances at his home in the past week, merely visits to his children, he really had no contact with his life left behind for the last few years. It hurt him to do that to them, the ones who counted most in his life, but something told him that he had to. Somewhere beneath the flesh of his brain, deep within his subconscious, a dark memory afflicted his life with such pain that he might never recover his family and more importantly, his wife. Somewhere on the edge between of reality and fantasy, something fogged his perception with its teeth sunken into his lifeblood, draining away everything. Light and darkness mixed, creating endless shades of gray, never fully defining one or the other again. It eased the pain, but dimmed the pleasure he once had for life, a time that seemed so long ago. Traveling left much time for thought, but he had yet to think of one thing since his brief encounter with the enforcer earlier that morning. What could he have thought about? How miserable he was? How much he missed his family? How much he wanted to stab himself in the gut? Dark thoughts led to dark actions, and dark actions led to more pain. Stopping to look around for the first time in nearly an hour, he tried to regain his bearings, for what it was worth. Trees surrounded him, looming over him like judges at a sentencing. Somewhat sparse, the grove of thick green trees seemed out of place. Although the air smelt fresh and the grass was green, he knew that he had not escaped Tokyo completely. "Worthless," he imagined them moaning in the wind. He turned his head, and continued walking. He had enough to deal with, without having to listen to a figment of his imagination. The voices continued, as if the verdict were already in, and they were merely rubbing his nose in another dash of misery before telling it to him, twisting the dagger in his gut before finally finishing him off. "You cause pain to those around, and yet you run away! Run away to avoid more pain! Worthless coward!" For a figment of his imagination, they certainly sounded real, like someone whispering from inside the trees. "Shut up," he fiercely whispered, sprinting through the grove, as if trying to outrun a train. "You are a murderer and a thief! You hold nothing sacred except yourself! No one will mourn your death, you pathetic mongrel!" "Shut up!" He defiantly cried back at them. "I'm doing what's best for my family! NOW GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" His last words still echoed as he realized he was alone, in a sea of grass, the sun shining bright and warm. He felt lighter, happier, suddenly rejuvenated, as if he had been given another chance at correcting the wrongs in his life. When the crystal shine of the lake caught his eye, he experienced an extreme sense of deja vu. He spun, searching for the grove of trees he had been in, scanning everywhere, but saw nothing but the lake and endless green. "Where am I?" he asked himself. "You are in paradise," a sarcastic, deep voice replied. It sounded like the voice of the trees, but without the distant, hollow echo. Of course, he saw no one as he turned only to face nothing. A growing sense of dread filled him as he stood, staring straight out at the lake, as if that were the origin of the voice speaking to him. "Why am I here?" He waited without reply, calling out to the spirits again. "Where is this? Speak to me!" Anger began to seethe in him. Pure, genuine rage at those that would crucify him without stated cause, without reason. He burned from within, as if the negative emotions within him had been lit aflame, like a bonfire of wood surrounding an accused witch. His last question was not much more than a whisper, a faint hope that something would answer his plea. "Who are you?" "Who am I?" the voice mocked, echoing as if all around him. "Who you are is a better question to ask. Who am I, he asks. Who am I...?" The words faded into an evil cackle, as if he had asked an absurd question. The laughter died shortly, leaving it with the rustle of the wind and the silence of an abyss. "Please tell me why I'm here?" The man stared at the nothingness around him. "You owe me that much! Please?" "Owe you?" the voice asked. "I suppose I do. You released me after all. You are here to feel anger again, to remember the pain, the love, and the hatred! You will remember everything and nothing! Are you ready? Are you ready for the misery of a thousand years of torture and imprisonment?" "Fate willing," he replied, ready to meet the consequences of his actions, to taste blind justice at the end of an executioner's axe. He could do nothing but succumb to the will of the supernatural voice, for it held all the cards, and he was just a jack in the beginning of a straight. If he had to learn the answer to his painful riddle, perhaps it would aid him to repair the hurt in his soul. "Fate does not exist," was the beginning of his reply. Each word spoken reeked of anger and perhaps a touch of remorse. "Choices forge the man. Each decision determines whether the soul is harvested, or tossed away. Fate is a cop out, reserved for those who would try to pin the consequences of themselves or others on some imaginary force. There is no almighty God, no divine savior. The men who perform the miracles are still men! "Open your eyes to the reality around you, for everything is going to change for the worse if you allow it. Death stalks the Earth with its crimson blade, and your name is now on its list." As the last word was spoken, the traveler, his guise pale, watched two figures cross the sea of grass, one chasing the other. Their path was straight, but it took what seemed to be hours for them to make it to the lakeside. He reeled in surprise as the earth beneath him rose, like the creation of a new mountain watched in fast forward. Though his new vantage gave him a better view of the couple, the traveler took a few hesitant steps forward, unsure if it was wise to move. "Go ahead," the voice insisted. "Go on, daddy!" the voice of his daughter whispered, tickling his ear its origin seemed so close. The two were shortly followed with a variety of voices, spoken by friends and family. He still stood there, legs held fast to the ground. "What are you waiting for?" the voice hissed. "FATE WILLS IT!" His laboriously slow decent down the green hill granted him a few minutes of peace. The teenage couple had lain in the grass by the lake, serenely staring up at the sky. He wondered what he could possibly learn from them. He could not have been more than fifty feet away when the male sat up and leaned over his partner. The traveler assumed they would kiss, but instead, the child simply waved his hands around the female's shoulder, as if warding a malicious spirit. "What are you smiling at?" The light female voice echoed from the two's position. The young man's reply did not carry the distance as he lay back down. When the traveler came within thirty feet, he had to squint his eyes to make out some hazy shape hovering a scant few inches above the young man. It glowed with a strange mix of red and white, blurring pink in parts, but still retained a vaguely human shape. It had suddenly just been over the young man's body, as if it previously was there, except he had not seen it until now. As he walked across the next five feet, the young man sat up, trying to grab hold of the specter above him. When the two met, a flash of light forced him to turn away and shelter his eyes with his hand. The traveler quickly turned his head back to see the young man's back arch in a painful spasm, and then fall onto the grass again. "Ranma, are you okay?" the female asked, putting a hand on her companion's shoulder. Ranma. The name echoed in the man's mind for a brief moment, as if searching for the right crayon in a box of them. Ranma. It was a name of a person he had forgotten existed, or chose to forget. Either way, the lingering familiarity with the name bothered him. Ranma. Taking the young man by the shoulders, the girl looked him in the eye. "What the heck is wrong with you, Ranma?" Having the words spoken like that sparked a memory, or rather a feeling: anger going beyond what words can express. Also there in laid something else, something not quite so hateful as the other, but something worse, hundreds of times worse. Reeling in the mixed emotions, the man strained to pay attention to what was being played out before him. The girl began to crawl away with tears streaming down her eyes, but the young man caught her in his arms gently. Words were exchanged, but they were spoken too soft for the traveler to hear. Jumping to her feet, girl began to run towards him, not heeding her direction. The young man simply slumped onto his chest, right before vanishing into the ground as if he had never been. Not noticing the event, the girl merely ran forward, vainly wiping the tears from her eyes. When ten feet were left between them, Ryouga recognized Akane. Under a halo of radiant, artificial light, Kimiko sat on the hard wood bench. With no more intentions of finishing her jog, she kicked her feet up and planted them firmly on the dirt below. The cold air bit at her arms, already having caused goose bumps to rise on her skin. Rubbing them briskly, she stood and took a deep breath, ready to jog back to the hotel. The moment she stepped out of the ring of artificial lamplight, the dirt path beneath her feet shifted. The earth quaked violently as she was forced to crouch to keep from falling on her bottom. Followed swiftly by burning light all around her, she stared slack-jawed as the sun appeared over her at its zenith, as if it had been there the entire time. What can someone say to such an event...the grass shooting up around their feet, the very earth beneath them rising upwards and the all too sudden blast of sunlight? It was a blow to Kimiko who had expected the hallucinations to be finished. Rising to her feet, she stooped over a valley of infinite green grass, all but for the lake in its center. She simply was awestruck by the experience. The location of her dream of Akane and herself at the lake had suddenly grew to fantastic measures, truly straight out of some sci-fi movie, probably the only one she had not seen with Sally and her friends back in California. Pleasant sunlight warmed her chilled flesh as she smiled at the welcome change of scenery, no matter how strange. Kimiko knelt down, running her fingers through the healthy, dry grass. Untying the laces to her sneakers, she looked down at the blue lake glistening in the sun light like a sapphire. She kicked off her shoes and watched them tumble down the hill. Squinting her eyes, she spied down the hill and noticed a figure down there for the first time. Though she could not make it out well, she knew it was a tall, darkly dressed man with black hair. The large pack on his back gave him the appearance of a traveler. He stood down at the edge of the lake, staring into the waters. With no other choice, she jogged down the hill, savoring the feeling of dry grass between her toes. She quickly passed her shoes and practically leapt to the bottom of the hill. The man did not see her, she noticed. His thick clothes strangely rippled in the warm wind, which could have hardly been considered much more than a breeze. There could not have been anymore than fifteen feet between them when she slowed to a walk so as not to alert him. He did not so much as stir at her approach. His thick black hair was short, obviously self cut from its jagged matted look. The thick, dark leather jacket he wore complete with matching pants made him look like someone right out of a comic. He was much too tall for her short body and towered over her as she approached him. Though he appeared unaware of her, she somehow doubted it. "Who are you?" His deep, tired voice was passive, totally unlike the image she had originally perceived of him from his appearance. He just looked like one of those playboy, self-asserting types. Something about the man disturbed her. The man spun on his heels, letting his pack slip from around him to the ground, all in one quick motion. His eyes flashed with rage, as he held one fist out, completing his stance just as quickly as he had spun. In describing his stance, she was completely at a loss. It was perfectly centered, leaving him totally defended without a chance of being struck. He had the balance and reflexes of a cat, and underneath the thick leather sleeves of his shirt, she could see his bulging muscles. If it had not been for the passivity he displayed which totally undermined the threat he posed, she might have simply dropped into a guard, prepared to defend herself immediately. "I'm-" she began, quickly stifling her own words at the strange pitch in which she spoke. Gone was the soft, high pitch it had retained for the past year, as it suddenly sounded very deep to her years. She almost put a hand over her own mouth, but refused to show her surprise, in case he was a threat. "Ranma?" The man's face softened, his eyes grew wide and he almost completely dropped his defensive posture. He nearly shivered in surprise as he fell to his back leg. Equally stunned by his reaction, she searched his face for recognition. The light fell upon his coarse face, but only barely. It was as if a veil of perpetual darkness remained over his face. "Do I know you?" Again, her voice was strangely deep in pitch. With only one blink of surprise and a few skipped heartbeats, she realized the cause. No longer did he tower over her, and no longer were her body proportions the same. Without the black pants and Chinese shirt, she had regained her male form. "It's me," the traveler told the confused young man before him. "It's Ryouga." Real or dream, Kimiko had no answer for her former friend. Too many days had been spent trying to forget his existence for her to come to terms with meeting him now. The dark shadows under the man's eyes, and the weathered look of his skin were not nearly enough pain that she had wished upon him. "Hello, Ryouga," Ranma said. He truly was Ranma now, if only for a few brief minutes before the dream ended. "But you're..." The darkness returned to Ryouga's eyes, but still he retained his passivity. Words flowed from Ranma's mouth then. Karma retribution was granted to him, even if it was merely a hallucination. Never before had he actually seen Ryouga in any of his dreams before, only other figures such as Akane, his parents, even Kunou once or twice. "I'm what? I'm dead? Is that what you were going to say?" His demands affected Ryouga deeply, forcing him to fall back a step to the very edge between the narrow shoreline of dirt and rocks and the green grass. "I'm sorry!" Ryouga screamed, kneeling to the ground in anguish. "I didn't mean for it to happen like that! I swear!" All feeling except for adrenaline left Ranma's body. He looked down at the man with contempt, and only took one step forward, but that was enough to send Ryouga squirming in the dirt right next to the water. "Please, I didn't want it to be like that! I didn't want to hurt you!" Actual tears flowed down the Lost One's eyes. He looked up with one pitiful glance, but quickly shied his eyes from Ranma. "You didn't want to HURT me?" Ranma yelled back. "You knocked me off a cliff, Ryouga! What in God's name did you expect to happen?" "Not...that..." the man whispered, trying desperately to hold onto the remains of his dignity. "Anyone but you, Ranma..." Growling like a tiger, Ranma lunged forward and punted Ryouga into the lake. Anger drowned all logic as Ranma leapt in after. Even as he waded into the water, he strangely remained male, but took no notice. "Do you know what I've been through, because of you?!" He screamed as he took a hold of Ryouga's collar and lifted him, several feet above his head. "Do you know how long I've waited to see you again?" With empty eyes, Ryouga remained silent. "Speak up, Ryouga! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Throwing him over his shoulder, he turned to chase the projectile. Ryouga rolled in the air and gracefully landed on his feet. Less than a second later, Ranma pummeled into him with his fists, next blasting him with a slashing kick across the man's face. Spinning like an out of control dradle, Ryouga fell to the ground. "Get up!" Ranma yelled. "Fight me like the man you used to be!" "SHUT UP!" Ryouga cried back as he bounced to his feet so fast, Ranma failed to catch the motion. "I tried to help you, God damn it! You don't think I brought Jusenkyou water back for my health, do you? You don't think I carried you out of that sleazy bar for it either? Of all the people I've wronged in my life, it's hurting you I most regret! SO STOP HAUNTING ME!" Ranma was too angry to respond verbally. He pounced upon Ryouga as fast as he could, meeting nothing but air as his opponent simply vanished from him. Overly dominant foes always seemed to disappear before one's eyes, Ranma knew. He had done it to others so many times himself. "Don't you think I've seen hell, too?!" Ryouga demanded, barely close enough to strike from Ranma's flank. "You tired that the first time, P-chan!" Ranma growled, throwing himself shoulder first at his still recovering opponent, who merely vanished a second time. "Poor me! Poor me! You never see what you've really got, Ryouga!" Sensing the man behind him, Ranma reversed himself, and extended his leg straight with a snap, meeting the rock hard flesh of his opponent. Ryouga gasped as he stumbled back. Giving him no chance to recover, Ranma brought his left leg up counterclockwise, snapping the blade of his foot against Ryouga's face. It was enough for Ryouga to fall onto his side, but the man had the elasticity of a rubber band, and was back on his feet before Ranma had a chance to follow through with his attack. Screaming in torment, Ryouga drilled Ranma's with a snap of his fist, not hard enough to break anything, but more than enough to send Ranma flying a few feet, causing him to land on his back. Using the momentum of the punch, Ranma rolled back onto his feet, one hand holding his bruised chest. "I'll not let you take me easily!" Ryouga cried, half raving mad. "You're not Ranma, are you?!" His voice was somewhere between laughing and screaming, as if they were one and the same. "It's ALWAYS you, isn't it?! I HATE YOU!" "RENZOKUKEN!" Black energy burned around Ryouga's fists as they blurred towards Ranma. Initializing the Chestnut Fist to merely keep pace, Ranma blocked each stinging blow that came with the crazed man's charge. Although his technique did not match the speed Ranma easily achieved to block it, Ryouga continued his blurring assault well after Ranma would have stopped a Chestnut Fist attack. "DIE!!!" Ryouga screamed as he pushed his attack forward. Ranma screamed as Ryouga broke his defenses, mauling his body with countless punches. The force of the strikes sent Ranma flying backwards to plunge into the lake. Quickly pushing himself up, Ranma waded out of the water. Ryouga stood ten feet away, glowing dark, his brown eyes replaced with black orbs. "Mouko Takabisha!" Ranma yelled, unleashing his confidence against the swirl of madness around Ryouga, but it merely evaporated on contact. "Throw away the disguise!" the man yelled at Ranma. "I know it's you!" "I don't know what you're whining about," Ranma whispered, feeling his body with his hands. "But I don't care. I will get revenge for what you've done to me!" "Funny," Ryouga commented, his words eerily calm as he drew in waves of black energy. "You look pitiful in Ranma's guise, declaring vengeance. He's not like that. You have NO RIGHT to slight him like that! I'll banish you for both our sakes!" Although confused with Ryouga's words, Ranma knew that his intentions were blazingly evident. "Oh God," he whispered before shutting away his fears for another Fierce Tiger Domineering blast. Somehow, he doubted Ryouga's chi blast would be stopped. "Renzoku Ki Ha," were the words spoken by the madman before the bolt of dark energy oozed from his body. It seemed to form into shape like slimy oil dripping from a car, and then without warning it surged forward. "Mouko Takabisha!" The blue energy from Ranma's confidence was enough to deflect the dark blast enough for it to only scathe Ranma's worn body. It skimmed his right shoulder, melting away the clothing and part of his long hair that got in the way. Unfortunately, the dark energy blast kept coming. Ryouga shifted his stance to bring the pillar of energy crashing down into the water. Taking a deep breath, Ranma swam down, putting as much distance between himself and his attacker. The cold water did not soothe the pain coursing through his shoulder, nor did it sate the burning sensation around his neck, though he barely felt the latter. It was so bright underneath the lake's surface that he could see Ryouga clearing, standing over him at the shoreline. His opponent then leapt up into the air, spiraling downwards as if he were a cruise missile right before plunging into its target. Cupping his right shoulder with his left hand, Ranma dove out of the way as his opponent stomped where he had been, bringing a tsunami of water crashing on the lake's shore. It presented the perfect opportunity to return fire. "Kachuu Tenshin Amaguriken!" Ranma yelled, willing every ounce of energy into his attack. Hundreds of punches collided with Ryouga's plate armor chest, as Ranma drove inwards, focusing his strikes in one area of the man's body. It did not even faze Ryouga. Ranma was not even able to see the strike that knocked him back, sending him flying across the lake. It felt like one of his Blast Fists, only without the painless single finger strike. One punch was enough to send him over ten feet before he crashed into the water headfirst. Only a split second and a gut reaction saved Ranma from having his head destroyed by an elbow strike Ryouga used on the water next to him. Crashing down upon their heads, the cold liquid came down like a waterfall, showering them for a second as they floated near each other. "Why did you come back?" Ryouga asked suddenly, instead of attacking. He sounded angry, but not as furious as his actions demanded. A certain degree of madness resonated in his voice, like a child reasoning with an imaginary friend who decided to disappear when he needed it most, only in reverse. "You were gone for so long. I thought I had you behind me, but then you called me in again. I hate you. I hate you! Why did you come back?!" "How can you ask that?" Ranma demanded, utterly insulted by the other man's question. "You threw my off a God damn cliff! Of course I'd come back! What, you think I'd forgive and forget?" Ryouga inhaled deeply through his teeth making a harsh whistling noise as he had listened to Ranma's retort. With each word he gathered more and more anger. His dark, tanned skin glowed red with his fury. "Stop...using...his...voice!" Nothing could have prepared Ranma for the swiftness of Ryouga's next attack. It was like something out of a manga, how he suddenly appeared in Ranma's face, slamming him a dozen times without slowing. He heard his body crack under the deluge of punches. He simply had no chance to even look at the finishing move as Ryouga's fist drove into his face. Falling back, as if gravity was unsure of what to do after the attack the defied physics, Ranma slowly touched the water, slowly sinking underneath the lake. He forced his eyes open and stared up through the clear water. Ryouga's face hovered above him as he saw the man reach down to grab a hold of his neck. Even if he had the will to do so, Ranma did not struggle with Ryouga as he was shoved further down, unable to float back to the surface. He had felt the feeling before in a dream once or twice. Perhaps this was all a dream? He would be waking up real soon, if that were the case. Yes, just a dream. A very scary dream. He would tell Kiyoshi in the morning without leaving anything out. Still staring up at Ryouga's maddened face, he wondered when the dream would end. As he began to struggle, a thought crossed his bleary mind: What if this was not a dream? No, it had to be a dream, he thought, trying to breathe, but only taking in water. He was really Kimiko Nishiyama, safe in her bed with her over-sized shirt lent by Kiyoshi, her brother. Or maybe she was still safe in his arms in the limousine, without a worry in the world. She would even settle with being asleep in Kenichi's room, sleeping soundly in his bed as he painted her picture. Even if he was a bit of a loon, she liked him. Yes, being asleep in his room would be nice. Her lungs ached with pain as she felt her eyes burning under the icy cold water. The dream would not end...but here it was...it had to grow dark before it could get light. Oh so bright, so bright. Morning light, yes, that is what is was. Warm arms, no more chest pain, no more hatred for that man, and no more hatred for anything. She loved everyone...especially Kiyoshi, Akane...Kenichi...Mayako...Rei...ko... Mai...Ryo...sei... ...Father... * * * "And in further news," a television news announcer began, "a freak storm seems to be brewing over certain parts of Tokyo city, as strong winds have reportedly been the cause of several small black outs. We'll have more of that with our weather caster--" Kenichi shut the screen of with a click of his remote, and yawned, exhausted from lack of sleep. He had to leave for work in about an hour, and decided to get up early for a change. It was not as if he could sleep anyway. Something had been tugging at his conscious all night, disabling any chance he had at sleep, as if someone were calling out to him, begging for help, yet all he could do was roll over in response. "I wish I were with Kimiko instead," he regretful sigh, half tempted to skip work and meet with the target of his affections. He wondered what she was doing right now...probably sleeping, in the warmth of her bed, like he should have been. Dawn approached, heralding the approach of a new day, and yet Kenichi only felt like reliving yesterday...again and again. ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>< It takes a thousand words to do what one picture can show. But it takes a thousand pictures to do what three words say. And it only takes one word to break them both. Until next time, farewell. Ryan Erik ICQ: 2561463 ryanerik99@yahoo.com http://www.geocities.com/ryanerik99