Of Curses And Odd Hair Colors

Cologne looked up from the thick book she was flipping through to glance at Shampoo. "Can't you see it?" she answered cryptically.

The matriarch chuckled. "Maybe it's good that you don't. But it's in our best interests to get that boy… out of our way, and as soon as possible," she explained. "Killing him would be excessive, and by helping them we lose a hindrance and gain an advantage."

"If you say so, great-grandmother…" Shampoo still sounded doubtful. "But I don't understand. Pig-boy just another distraction – nothing to do with us."

"Oh, it does. And I'm a little disappointed in you, Shampoo. It doesn't take three thousand years of Amazon history to recognize competition."

Shampoo's expression dropped and twisted into disgust. "Pig-boy is pervert," she announced firmly after a moment's shocked pause. "But Ranma…"

"I doubt anything will come of it," Cologne told her, much to Shampoo's guarded relief. "But we can't leave it like this."

"Right," Shampoo nodded, resolute and still slightly sickened. "What is the plan?"

Cologne turned back to her book, smiling tightly where her granddaughter couldn't see it. "How much do you remember about a place called Jusendo?"

"Keep your attention on your enemy!" Herb snapped, without stopping or indeed even slowing down.

Akane whirled, not letting the criticism upset her – she had no energy to spare for that.

The match was basic fighting only – no special techniques allowed, a rule that restricted Herb more than Akane but did not make it easy, by any stretch of the imagination. The Musk Dynasty prince was no light-fisted teacher. Throbbing bruises on Akane's shoulder and hip bore painful witness to that, and this was only training. She once again wondered, and suspected her curiosity would never be fully satisfied, at how Ranma – and Ryouga - had managed to defeat (or at least stalemate) her in the first place.

Herb was now slightly to her left. Keeping the distinctive pale pink and blue hair in her peripheral vision she swung a kick low but it was dodged almost before she began the movement; expecting this, Akane followed it up with a rapid triple-punch arching along Herb's path of retreat – up, left, and down, followed up by a dizzying forward spin to keep pace. The strikes connected but bounced harmlessly off of dragonscale bracers (the only armor Herb wore for this), and then they passed each other in midair.

For a frozen moment the two fighters were turned away from each other, Akane still unfolding from her somersault and Herb sliding to an unpredicted halt. Then they blurred into motion again; a spinning kick to Herb's knees missed but so did a roundhouse punch to Akane's gut.

Her kick was aimed high and unerringly for Herb's collarbone. A quick maneuver – successful, but barely – and Akane's foot bounced off of crossed bracers that imitated a wall remarkably well. It was powerful enough to shove the prince backwards several feet, however, forcing her to brake hard on her heels. In this manner Herb came to a halt with a faint squeaking noise and quickly straightened in an odd pause, uncrossing her arms and regarding her student with a disappointed look. Akane wished she could figure out why.

Akane was tired and knew it as she forcefully controlled her breathing to avoid the instinctual gasping for air that her lungs demanded. But she didn't dare rest or relax in any way. She'd learned that Herb didn't stop, but paused. And never for very long. In three hours the lesson had been taught quickly - assuming otherwise had led directly to the bruise on her shoulder.

But Herb relaxed, which startled Akane but she didn't budge from her own defensive stance.

"Not learning!? You're not teaching!" Akane instinctually took a step foreward, fully expecting combat to be resumed for her insolence.

Herb shook her head and turned halfway away, talking to the wall and leaving her side utterly undefended, as if she knew precisely how to aggravate Akane. "You say that for precisely the same reason that I'm leaving now."

Akane was angry and upset and insulted but before showing any of these she slumped to the floor, on her knees before falling ungracefully to her back, taking deep gasps of air. Exhaustion, or at least tiredness, was more important at the moment. The open door let a tiny gust of wind inside, and if it was freezing cold Akane welcomed the chill, at least for now.

She didn't have to look to know who it was, but she still pushed sweat-soaked bangs out of her eyes to glare sideways at Ranma, who was leaning against the doorway to the dojo, arms crossed over his chest.

Akane hesitated before answering. It was a complement, after all, even if a mild one. Finally she decided that antagonism would just take too much energy. "Thanks. How much worse is she when it's for real?" She pushed herself back up into a sitting position.

"Well, there's the chi moves," Ranma admitted. "But those would be too destructive, here."

"Chi?" Akane questioned, curious. Although she had been given no details of how Ranma managed to defeat Herb, any information was better than none.

Akane nodded absently. That fit. She could tell, in a strange way – something about the way Herb moved, or a feeling that radiated off of her – sheer, physically manifested power of a sort that made her half afraid for her life and half even more intent to learn, to acquire even a small amount of that power for herself.

"How's Ryouga?" Akane asked, suddenly deciding to change the subject. Ranma glanced out the door before answering, face suddenly dropping into something not so nonchalant, something more serious, before lifting again so fast that she could almost imagine that it hadn't happened. "She's okay," he said, waving one hand dismissively.

Bad topic. But… why? Akane scowled, peeved at Ranma's avoidance of actually answering the question. "You know what I mean. What happened? He's been acting strange."

"What?" And he looked at her, for the first time during the conversation actually looking in her eyes, and it made Akane stumble mentally for no reason that she could think of.

"I don't know," she admitted after a pause that visibly baffled Ranma. "I'm… tired. This training is harder than I'm used to." It wasn't pleasant to admit it, but it was all she could think of to say. But then, that was… what, three hours? she mentally consoled herself.

"Well," Ranma said, lifting himself up from the doorframe and taking a more typical confident stance, legs slightly apart and planted firmly on the floor, arms loosely at his sides like he was ready to spring into action any moment, yet also utterly at ease. Natural, familiar. Akane relaxed, falling again onto her back, lying flat on the welcomingly cool floor.

"You really did do pretty well," he went on, looking not quite directly at her as he delivered the compliment. Akane didn't notice. "It's just that Herb is…" Ranma had to think for a moment to find the right word. "Not a very easygoing person."

Akane just chuckled. "I got that impression." She hesitated. "I'm, um, sorry about what happened," she said finally, all in a rush, embarrassed but feeling like she ought to apologize. Maybe if I had gone with them… she thought, berating herself for not insisting on going along in the first place. "But I don't know what happened, so I can't be very specific," she finished, neither sharp nor demanding but both, and a just a little apologetic.

Ranma looked away, suddenly reticent. "It was… just a fight," he finally said. "Things happened. The mountain got blown up… I think that was mostly Herb, since he used so many chi techniques. We got found by a farmer, taken to the hospital, got out, walked home."

"Broke out," Akane corrected, but absently. That mattered little, at least until they were found and presented with a bill.

"And the kettle was destroyed in the process." Akane had garnered this. "Or at least broken into bits."

Ranma glanced at her, confused as to why she was asking. "Gone. Hopefully forever," he added with a note of anger directed at the memory of such an insidious artifact. "Why?"

"Just wondered. It is valuable," she explained, shrugging. It was a reason made up on the spot, but it was a reason.

She didn't ask the obvious question. That would go too far, in this uneasy truce. Instead, she closed her eyes, falling utterly into the exhaustion that made her arms shake when she tried to move them, ending the conversation without actually ending it, half-hoping he would just leave.

And when he did go, padding softly out of the dojo like he was trying not to wake her up – although of course it was just his normal way of moving, quiet – she wished that she had been able to ask just one more question.

Akane didn't move, but she felt like smacking herself for being afraid to be sympathetic.

The next few days were a knife's edge balance of tension, a joke of uneasiness and barely concealed hatred; two girls who hated each other barely more than they hated their current selves and a boy caught in the middle.

It was dinner, the one time they were unable to avoid each other because of Kasumi's utter refusal to make a second preparation for one party, and Akane restraining herself from strangling both parties, although everyone was surprisingly quiet.

Ryouga was trying to ignore everyone and everything. The pink-haired girl stared at her plate with a focus that bordered on meditation broken only occasionally as she slowly took a bite. She was being pointed about not looking at Herb, but Ranma and Akane were nearly as bad for entirely different reasons, which severely reduced her options of where to look since it banned her gaze from the three easy directions. Backwards wasn't possible and up would be awkward, so that limited her to down, and the plate of appetizing food was remarkably pleasing to the eye.

Ranma, who was sitting to her left, nudged her side insistently. "You gonna eat?" he asked, all casual nonchalance, and Ryouga wanted to punch him or hug him or run away but settled for answering disgruntledly. She hoped that she was imagining the worry in his voice, and that he just wanted food.

"I am eating, Saotome," she said, taking another bite, quickly now, as if to prove her point.

Akane, who had ended up opposite Ranma by whim of whatever deity it was that delighted in torturing Ryouga Hibiki, glared. "There's plenty of food, Ranma. You don't have to steal Ryouga's."

Lime, utterly oblivious and blissfully so, took the opportunity of the brief pause that followed to stutteringly complement Kasumi on the meal. Ranma and Ryouga, unified in purpose, glared death at him, but the tiger boy was not quite all there, utterly entranced by the casual presence of such a pleasant female.

Ryouga shook her head, forcing herself to ignore that. Throwing a half-hearted smile in Akane's direction, she said, "Thank you, Akane-san." She turned back to Ranma, eyes narrowing in antagonism. "Leave off, Ranma."

Ranma rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Hey, whatever." But he didn't turn away, instead reaching out with his chopsticks and snagging a dumpling off of the plate directly in front of Ryouga. She opened her mouth to protest, ready to argue, but Ranma deposited it on her plate. She closed her mouth, then opened and closed it a few more times, not sure if speech or silence was more appropriate – or if anger or thankfulness were the more pertinent emotion. Both, it seemed. "What was that for? I'm fine, I said."

He shrugged again, finally looking a little discomfited. "What? You're still not fully recovered. You should eat."

Akane stared at him, face blank in astonishment. Maybe he's the one who's sick? She thought, worriedly.But she couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"Now isn't that considerate." To everyone's surprise it was Nabiki who had spoken. The middle sister usually didn't speak much during the inevitable dinner confrontation, preferring instead to sit back and watch, deriving some sort of amusement from it.

Akane didn't notice that Ryouga's cheeks reddened at the comment, but Ranma did and hurriedly glanced away, settling back into his seat and almost angrily snatching something off of his plate and eating it.

"Yes?" She turned towards the blushing boy, face all innocence and mild curiosity.

"Do… do you need some help?" Kasumi was doing dishes and they were alone in the kitchen, which didn't help his composure. Lime was uncertain of this approach – what limited experience he had of females (namely Herb, for the most part) did not bode well for him, but Mint had practically shoved him through the door, determined that one of them would speak with her. Stupid magazines.

"I would appreciate some help, if you could dry the dishes," she admitted, pulling her sudsy hands out of the sink and wiping them on her apron. Lime was fascinated, and more than mildly intimidated. This was not what he had expected, but the direct approach always seemed to backfire.

"D… dry?" He waved his hands helplessly as she picked up and held out a plate and a white rag.

"Yes," Kasumi answered, quite unruffled. "Just take the clean dishes from there-" she pointed towards a rack that was nearly full of wet porcelain – "and put them there," she said, indicating the kitchen table. "It would be very helpful. Is that okay?"

Kasumi sighed. "Thank you very much," she said as he took the dish and rag. "It's so hard to get much help around here," she went on, looking slightly resigned. She turned back to the sink and continued to scrub dishes, still talking. Lime listened and stared at the back of her head, wiping the plate with the rag without looking at what he was doing.

"I mean," Kasumi said hurriedly after a moments pause, "It's not like they don't try… but it never works out well, and I know it's not their fault, but…" she sighed.

"Call me Kasumi," she said absently, then paused for a moment and turned her head to look at him, startled. "Would you? You don't have to."

"Herb-sama is teaching your younger sister as repayment for our living here," Lime explained, "But I'm not doing anything." He considered for a moment. "Wouldn't it be proper for me to do what I can, as well?" It made sense. Lime served, it was what he did, all he really knew how to do. And if dishes weren't quite typical – well, Herb hadn't been requiring much lately.

"I see." Kasumi paused, thinking. "Okay then – I would appreciate the help. Can you cook?"

Lime, still absently wiping the plate, looked confused at the question. "When we were traveling I did part of the cooking for Herb-sama," he said, slowly.

"Good!" Kasumi sounded happy, and Lime almost sighed in relief. "If you can cook well enough for her, I'm sure you could help me fine."

"If you can cook well enough for Herb-san," Kasumi explained, "I'm sure that you'll be fine. If you want to help, that is."

"I…" Lime stumbled verbally and glanced down at his hands as if it were their fault. Carefully putting the exceedingly dry plate down on the table, he took another with equal caution and began to dry it as well, considering. "I will assist you."

Lime stumbled over an appropriate response for almost a full minute, but when he finally said, "It's no trouble, Kasumi-san," she didn't complain about the long silence.

Ryouga was relieved that the ordeal of dinner was over. It had been four days but the situation hadn't improved. They were temporarily reconciled, or at least working together for the same goal in the lack of better options, but that didn't mean that she liked any of the Musk Dynasty representatives. Mint and Lime were inoffensive but Ryouga's sheer hatred of their prince made them objects of dislike simply by association. Herb was another story entirely.

Ryouga tried to stop thinking so much and curled into her blanket, facing the wall. An shortage of living space and the bitter cold of winter that made the dojo unlivable had forced a rearrangement of rooms – Herb, Lime and Mint now occupied the spare room that had been Ryouga's, and Ryouga slept in the larger room that Ranma and Genma shared. A pair of screens afforded her decent privacy (almost her own room-within-a-room, really), although she would've been fine without it, of course. More or less. Anyway, this was all temporary - it would end when this whole ordeal was over, one way or the other.