Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Sound Hearts ❯ Chapter 5

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Sound Hearts
A Ranma 1/2/Sailormoon S crossover fanfiction
By KaosQu

Chapter 5


She was there again.

The city, that dead and dark city covered with the blood red sky.
It was different now, but she knew this was the same city, the same
city where... where...

It was the same city.

She walked with feet no longer her own, and around her, was
destruction. The once-foreboding city was reduced to rubble, it's ruins
scattered along with the piles of stone that once bore faces.

She walked past the rubble of cars, homes, skyscrapers... people.
Her face cold and emotionless, she walked. And still, the part that was
still herself... hoped.

Messiah...

She walked, the glaring red light beating upon her back, the
quietness, the loneliness, permeating her shackled mind with every
light step.

Serenity...

She walked, her mind quiet... like everything else. And with
every further step that brought her no closer to finding another
living, breathing being, that small flicker of hope died a little.

Anybody...

There was no one... nobody, nothing. Not one living thing; only
one vast monument to... the end, to destruction, to... the Silence.

And then she was in control.

Her legs immediately gave away and she dropped to her knees, the
gleaming weapon she didn't know she held dropping to the street with a
clatter. Sobs wracked her body as she curled into herself, tried to
warm her body, to ward of the cold silence that surrounded her in every
direction.

She cried for a long time, her sobs filling the deathly silent
air, carrying into the endless distance and ultimately dying out,
joining the rest of the thousands, millions of people that had once
walked the now-dead city.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, and it may very well
have been in that timeless, dead city, dead world, her sobs died out.
Sniffling, she drew her head back up and opened her eyes, squinting in
the glaring, merciless, light.

A face stared back at her.

Startled, she fell back, barely managing to catch the ground with
her hands. Her heart beating rapidly, she stared back, blinking.

And then, the tears returned as she realized, it was a stone
face, a single, pigtailed, stone head staring at her.

Ranma...

Lurching forward, she grabbed the head cradling it to her chest
and clenching her eyes as she once again sobbed, the tears sliding down
her cheek, soaking her strange clothes and splashing on the stone head.

If he was gone... then... then everyone else was gone. All that
was left was her and this... this dead city...

And then even that was gone.

The stone head with its soothingly familiar features disappeared,
the ground beneath her very feet disappeared. And as she discovered
when she opened her eyes, the light... disappeared.

It was dark, completely dark. There was nothing around her, just
the darkness, the cold, the silence... the loneliness.

She was alone, completely, utterly alone in an infinitely vast
void that was... nothing.

And she cried again, burying her face in her arms and wishing
with every bit of strength that remained in her shattered spirit
that... that she were with... him.

She cried, and cried, feeling small and helpless in the absolute
nothingness. In the great and terrible void that surrounded her, that
was the very embodiment of nonexistence.

And then he came.

She lifted her head, saw the bright, shining light that cut
through the heavy darkness and hurt her eyes. She felt the overwhelming
presence made all the more awe-inspiring in contrast to the great
void of nothingness.

Pharaoh 90.

And she trembled.


With a gasp, Hotaru shot up in her bed, the warm blanket covering
her sliding down her body and to her waist. Her breathing was heavy, a
glean of sweat covering her face as she stared without recognition into
the darkness before her.

She tensed, fearing something she wasn't quite conscious of.

Slowly, the fear faded away and her eyes made it's way through the
darkness, the soft soothing darkness that covered her, and found her
room. Her wardrobe, her chair, her table...

But it didn't all go away. No matter how long she stared at the
familiar objects scattered around her, no matter how long she stared
and forgot about the dream, the fear persisted.

Tears came to her, she could feel them forming in her eyes,
condensing, ready to slide down her cheeks. Slowly, she pulled her legs
out from under her blanket and got to her knees. Cautiously, she glanced
around the room, looking for... something.

After a few agonizing long seconds of waiting for... for
something she feared, she then scurried forward, off her bed and across
the floor to her desk. Quickly, she grabbed one of the books lying on
top of it. Gripping it tightly, she shot back onto her bed. One hand
clamped on the hardcover book, she jerked her blanket up to her neck,
taking refuge in it's familiar warmth.

And then, her legs drawn to her body, Ranma's history book
clutched tightly to her chest, Hotaru quietly sobbed as the fear gnawed
at her heart, the loneliness feeding it. She cried and waited; waited
for the dawn to come, waited for it's warm, comforting light to sneak
under her window binds, banish away the darkness and, hopefully, the
fear.



It was early morning in Juuban, and the Saotome pair of father
and son were once again engaged in their usual morning practice. Unlike
the previous day, Genma had once again awoken before his son, throwing
him unceremoniously out the window.

Though brief and unspectacular, the mid-air battle that ensued
had managed to ease whatever lingering resentment the younger Saotome
may have still harbored for his father. The anger at the lost ramen had
been entirely dependent on his mood at the time anyway, and so it was
quickly lost in the thrill and rush of cutting through the air in the
most complex and advanced forms of the Saotome School of Martial Arts.

Once his feet landed on the ground, Ranma's mind relaxed and
started to mull over the Art in general as the rush of the fight faded
away and he settled into a familiar slow spar with his father. That
was when he suddenly remembered the certain thing his father had done
the previous day.

"So Pops, what the heck was that thing you did yesterday?" Ranma
asked as he casually sent a kick in his father's direction.

"W-What thing?" the older martial artist stuttered, absently
dodging the kick and suddenly turning a little pale.

"Y'know," Ranma started, oblivious to his father's apparent state
of distress as he forced the old man back with an onslaught of quick
jabs and hooks. "That thing where you were glowing all blue and stuff."

"Oh, that," Genma deadpanned, though he was giving off a mental
sigh of relief that Ranma wasn't curious about that OTHER thing he
had done.

"Yeah, guess you've still got a few tricks up your sleeve..."
Ranma trailed off, hoping the old man would catch the hint.

"Of course boy!" the balding martial artist exclaimed proudly
as he suddenly launched back at his son with a lightning-fast series
of kicks and punches, his second wind suddenly coming to him. "Why,
I've mastered techniques you've yet to even dream of!"

"Yeah?" Ranma said, his curiosity further piqued though he was
certain his father was exaggerating a bit. Still... he definitely
wanted to know more about that blue aura thing the old man pulled
off. "Like that blue thing?"

"That, my boy, is something you'll be learning soon enough."

"R-really?" Ranma asked, caught by surprise, he hadn't expected
his father to spill things so quickly and easily. Unfortunately, being
surprised had the side effect of making him stop and drop his defenses
a bit. Just a little, but he also wasn't actively blocking, launching
any counterattacks or even moving backwards. Essentially, he was
standing still with his mouth hanging open.

"Don't let your guard down boy!"

Genma, of course, took advantage of this opportunity to grab his
son, throw him across the concrete ground and into a pile of
conveniently placed boxes.

Flying across the air, Ranma slammed into the pile of boxes and
hit the wall behind with a loud thud. The second or so he had been
airborne had been wasted feeling surprised, so despite the convenient
placement of cardboard boxes, it still hurt.

Still, the wall wasn't cracked, so the boxes had been somewhat
useful.

Ranma, on the other hand, didn't really care whether or not the
wall was in one piece. "Hey, whaddya do that for?!" he demanded,
cardboard boxes tumbling to his side as he stumbled to his feet.
Rubbing his back in annoyance, he glared at his father, despite the
fact that he knew it had been his fault for giving such a huge opening.

"You're getting sloppy boy!" Genma shouted back.

"Ah shut up Old Man, you just got lucky that's all!" was Ranma's
angry reply as he started flicking some imaginary dust off of him,
trying to ignore his father.

Genma merely laughed back.

Ranma stared, eyes twitching angrily as his father continued
to laugh. "Hey, don't think I've forgotten about that ramen you
ate!"

"Eh, what?" Genma said, stopping his laughing and turning his
attention back to Ranma, who suddenly seemed to be a lot closer to
him.

"You heard me old man!" And then, the balding martial artist
found himself caught in a vicious uppercut. Once again, he found
himself lifting off the ground, a powerful force propelling him into
the air, higher and higher. About three seconds later, he managed to
catch his breath and get his eyes to look down, where he saw a
familiar pigtailed boy enveloped in a bright yellow aura. For a
moment, he forgot the situation, a flash of pride coming to his face
as he smiled at his son's progress.

Then he realized that he was 20 meters up in the air and climbing
higher every second.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

Down below, Ranma watched as his father flew away into the
distance. "Stupid old man..." he muttered to himself as the yellow aura
surrounding him started to fade away. "And he calls me sloppy..."

Shuddering, Ranma rubbed his arms, suddenly feeling a little
cold, as if a warm blanket had just been taken off of him. Angry
thoughts about his father fading away into the sudden unexplainable
chill, Ranma realized what he had just done.

Again.

"Whoah," he muttered to himself, lifting his right hand up to his
face and staring at it with a bit of wonder. "Man I'm good..."



Dressed in his school uniform, bandana tied around his head,
Ryoga was standing in the middle of his room, punching in the air
as rapidly as he could. His face was focused, determined; his eyes
staring straight ahead as he occasionally paused in his punching and
sent several roundhouses into the air.

He was training, preparing for Ranma to come. The pigtailed boy
always came these days, and he always brought a fight with him. It was
one of the few consistencies of his life, and he wouldn't admit to
anyone, perhaps not even to himself, but he took a little comfort in it.
Took comfort in the thought that there was some purpose in his life,
something to expect and look forward to other than an 'adventure'-filled
day of wandering around Juuban, or even Japan.

Still, whenever Ranma brought a fight, he had also, so far,
always brought the bitter taste of defeat. It agitated and annoyed the
Lost Boy to no end, caused every amount of misery that Ranma had always
beaten him in a fight so far. Whether it be in the traditional way, or
with strange and suspiciously cowardly maneuvers like yesterday,
Ryoga's pigtailed rival always found a way to pull a miracle and win
every single duel between the two.

The Lost Boy grit his teeth, anger flooding over the small
amounts of gratitude he felt, at the thought of how he was always
beaten, how all his years of training under his father, all the lonely
days and nights spent wandering Japan fighting off thieves and crooks
were... all for nothing against one annoying pigtailed boy.

Ryoga's concentration slipped away as his mind started getting
side-tracked on these angry thoughts, his punches starting becoming
fiercer, stronger, snapping through the air with the force of his
anger. His eyes started narrowing, his kicks flying with strength
enough to easily dent a bus, Ryoga remembered all the fights, all the
bread stealing... That bread, that bread that he should have gotten,
should have eaten... snatched away and devoured by that same pigtailed
boy who mocked his skill with every blindingly fast attack that won
their duels...

the Lost Boy thought silently to himself as
he started to lose himself in the familiar anger. His ridiculously
strong kicks snapped in the air, closely followed by his trademark
ridiculously strong punches. He kicked, punched, losing himself in
every satisfyingly powerful attack. And soon, with enough strength to
easily shatter an average person's skull, he started upper-cutting,
back-fisting, side and spin-kicking. Crescent, snap and straight kicks
linked with jabs, spears and elbows. Ryoga went through all this and
more, thoughts of Ranma beaten and bloodied, groveling at his feet
swirling through his mind.

And then he stopped.

His anger disappeared, melting away like snow in the spring as he
stopped and lifted a hand, staring at it sadly. "What am I doing..." he
muttered to himself with a sigh and shake of his head. "I need to get
faster, not stronger!"

Sighing once again, the Lost Boy started punching again, trying
to keep cool and do everything in a perfect and flawless form, pulling
and pushing his arms as fast they could go. His thoughts wandered
again, but this time it was to something, someone else. He thought of
how impressed Minako would be, when she saw his skill, his strength,
his... speed; and most of all, when she saw him finally defeat Ranma.

And Ryoga smiled.



In another room miles away from where Ryoga was currently
training, a blonde haired girl groggily stumbled off her bed and to her
feet, inadvertently knocking a white-furred cat out of her bed as she
clumsily searched for her alarm clock.

She eventually found it, lying on it's side, on the ground.
Picking it up with a yawn, she found that it had been some twenty
minutes since her alarm had first rang.

Artemis, complaining about the rude wake-up as he stumbled to
his feet and hopped onto the bed, saw this too. Despite it being more
like the Minako he knew, he still found it odd and voiced his opinion
loudly.

Minako waved a hand in casual dismissal and set out in search of
her uniform.



Ryoga winced, a half dozen rapid punches sneaking past his
defense and thudding against his chest. Gritting his teeth, the Lost
Boy knelt down, sweeping the ground with a kick as his opponent
finished his attack. The kick didn't hit, the Lost Boy didn't really
expect it to, his enemy was too fast to be taken by something like
that. What it did do was cause his opponent to jump into the air to
dodge the kick. That, Ryoga did expect, and he was prepared for it.
Cutting off his kick before it even finished, the Lost Boy was
shooting to his feet in an uppercut.

What he didn't expect was for his opponent to continue flying up.
The blue blur continued into the air, higher and higher and completely
out of the Lost Boy's reach. Then, the blur shot back down and, just
as Ryoga realized what his opponent was intending to do, impacted
the Lost Boy's skull.

Ryoga, of course, dropped like a rock.



Leaning lazily against a tree, Ranma absently chewed on the piece
of bread he had in his hand, the multiple bruises he bore on various
parts of his body more or less forgotten.

Nearby, Ryoga was busy glaring at the pigtailed martial artist.
That stupid attack Ranma had done hadn't knocked him out, not by a
long shot, but in the 9 seconds or so the Lost Boy had spent rubbing
his head and cursing his rival, Ranma had retrieved the bread and
was leaving the cafeteria. And thus yet another lunch period had
begun with the Lost Boy's defeat.

"Will you hurry up and finish eating the stupid bread already,
Ranma!!" Ryoga demanded angrily, turning his gaze away from the
piece of food that served as a reminder of his defeat at their usual
lunch-time brawl that day.

Incoherent grunts was the vague reply.

Ryoga gave an exasperated sigh and turned around completely,
deciding not to look at Ranma, period. He just couldn't understand it,
he had practiced all morning, and he still lost! Twice!! A small part
of the Lost Boy, meanwhile, reminded him that it took a little more than
an hour or so of punching and kicking to improve significantly. After
several careful seconds of studying that thought, the small part of
logic spontaneously grew a pigtail and was rudely shoved off a mental
cliff.

"Stupid Ranma..." the Lost Boy muttered.



Humming to herself as she sat down in the shade of a large tree,
Minako leaned back, placing her lunch before her as she closed her eyes,
taking a moment to enjoy the atmosphere of her favorite part of school.
The sun was shining, the sakura were blooming, the peaceful chatter of
her fellow classmates were all around her, and the birds... well, the
birds were making their annoying bird noises and darting around stealing
people's food, but she didn't mind that, as long as the sneaky little
things stayed away from her lunch...

The only thing that could make things better right now was
Ryoga... Minako opened her eyes and sighed for a moment. Well, she'd
see him soon enough; school was already half over after all! So
thinking, Minako opened her lunch and took a bite out of one of her
sandwiches. Her mood was a little dampened, but as the magic of the
lunch period worked on her, she soon found herself smiling again.


Meanwhile, in a place not far away from where Minako was currently
eating, a pale, red-headed woman walked silently through the heavy
shadows of a school basement, somehow making her way effortlessly
through the jumbled rooms in the nearly non-existent light. She was
in, incidentally, the basement of the very same school Minako was
currently pursuing her education in.

"So this is the where that new friend of Hotaru goes to
school..." Kaolinite murmured to herself as she suddenly stopped, a
small cloud of long-undisturbed dust floating around in her wake.
Slowly, she extended a closed hand forward, as if offering it to
something before her, something that lurked in hiding within the heavy
darkness. Smirking coldly to herself, the red-head opened the closed
fist, and for a quick moment, a glint of white light seemed to flash off
of an object in her hand.

And then, still smirking to herself, Kaolinite disappeared from
the room, leaving behind nothing in the darkness but a trail of
disturbed dust and... something else.



Ryoga didn't really know why, but he found himself following Ranma
around. Of course, he had followed Ranma around during lunch for the
past week, but that didn't stop the Lost Boy from wondering, as he
always did, why he put up with his pigtailed rival. Today, he was
especially irritated, Ranma having been strangely silent and distant.
Not that Ryoga minded, of course, but Ranma was just so different from
his usual loud and obnoxious self that he, Ryoga Hibiki, was actually
starting to feel... uneasy.

"What's wrong Ranma?" the Lost Boy finally asked, bluntly and to
the point.

Ranma was silent, continuing his slow pacing around the school
grounds, arms crossed over his chest and head bent down and staring
at the ground.

Ryoga spent the next minute or so following a silent Ranma
around the school, stubbornly refusing to voice his question again.

"Ranma..." the Lost Boy eventually started again, strangely not
quite as irritated as he thought he'd be. "What's wrong?"

There was yet another long minute of silence in which the Lost
Boy waited for Ranma to say something, remarkably keeping his calm
in a situation he would've, under more familiar circumstances, turned
into an all-out brawl.

As Ryoga was about to repeat his question for the third time,
however, his rival stopped, lifting his head and staring into the sky,
hands now propped behind his head. "What makes you think there's
something wrong?" Ranma asked softly.

The bandana-clad martial artist opened his mouth, but words failed
to come forth. Ryoga struggled for several moments, his mouth snapping
shut. "What kind of idiot do you think I am?" he finally said after a
quick brainstorm. "You've been acting strange all morning..."

The pigtailed martial artist came to a stop, still staring up into
the sky, his face a blank mask. "Strange?" was his simple reply.

"Strange," the Lost Boy returned bluntly.

Shrugging, Ranma dropped his gaze and turned around, a hand now
rubbing his chin as he stared at the Lost Boy with a slight smirk
playing across his face. "Geez Ryoga, I didn't think ya cared..."

The reaction was instantaneous; Ryoga immediately started sending
out a stream of stuttered half-words quickly followed by a forceful
"What??" The demand made, the Lost Boy then proceeded to glare at Ranma.

Ranma, for his part, laughed a little, a strange smile not usually
found when he laughed at the Lost Boy now accompanying him. "Yeah, just
kidding around..." The smile still plastered on his face, Ranma turned
around and headed for the shade of a conveniently-placed tree. "C'mon,
let's get in the shade before you get a heat-stroke or something..."

Ryoga was silent, staring at Ranma's back with a strange look of
suspicion now on his face. Suspicion of what, even he wasn't quite sure
of, but he was confident it couldn't be anything good. Nonetheless, he
quickly followed Ranma into the shade of the large, conveniently-placed
tree that, he had to admit, was refreshingly cool, especially after the
fight and time spent following Ranma around in the sun.

Leaning against the trunk of tree, Ranma once again stared out
into the sky. The smile he had worn had slipped off his face sometime
after he had turned his back on the lost boy and Ranma was back into
his apparently brooding mood.

Sighing, Ryoga followed suit and leaned back onto the tree as
well, still waiting for Ranma to say something and still not yet
resorting to violence to make Ranma talk. Instead, he followed Ranma's
gaze and looked out into the distant blue sky.

The Lost Boy stared into the sky, the vast and seemingly endless
sky. His eyes peered into the distant horizon as far as he could; his
gaze climbed it's empty and brilliant heights and tried to just... see
it, see whatever Ranma was seeing as he stared into it at that very
moment.

"I'm worried about her," came the voice, soft but with the same
effect as a sudden burst of lightning or thunder.

His musings abruptly cut off, the Lost Boy snapped up, blinking
a few times. "What?" he asked, more out of reflex than anything.

"I'm worried about her," the pigtailed boy repeated, still
staring into the sky, but this time without a long minute of delay.

"Her? You mean Hotaru?" Ryoga asked as he shifted slightly and
looked at Ranma.

"Who else...?" Ranma muttered, almost too softly for the Lost Boy
to hear.

Sighing, Ryoga turned back around and leaned on the tree again.
"I don't see any
reason why Hotaru shouldn't be fine right now, Ranma; you're just
worrying too much."

"Maybe..." the pigtailed martial artist replied, his voice still
soft, seeming to sound doubtful and anxious to the Lost Boy's ears.
"But..." Ranma trailed off, seeming to be at a loss of words for a few
seconds. "I'm just worried about her."

"There's no reason for you to be worried, Ranma, Hotaru's fine and
we'll be seeing her in just a few more hours." Crossing his arms, the
Lost Boy easily put up a confident front, even going so far as to smirk.

"Yeah but..." Ranma started again, still not convinced, not even
really paying attention to anything other than Ryoga's words as he
stared blankly into the sky.

Sighing in exasperation, Ryoga threw up his arms, once again
wondering why he was even with Ranma right then. "Hotaru's fine!"
he almost shouted, cutting off whatever words Ranma had been about to
say. "It isn't like she's going be attacked by demons from hell in the
next five minutes!"

"..."

Getting no reply, the Lost Boy turned around and looked at Ranma
once again. What he immediately noticed was the tightened muscles and
how the pigtailed martial artist pressed his feet into the ground.
Almost shouting in exasperation as he quickly deduced what was going
through his rival's mind, the Lost Boy instead choose to shout into
Ranma's ears. "I said she's alright!!"

This time, Ranma did respond with more than a few words,
straightening up and taking a few steps away from the tree, his face
a stone mask of resolve. Holding a clenched fist in front of his face,
his eyes staring ahead with fiery determination, he said, with a tone
more suited to times of making solemn promises, and indeed perhaps he
was making one, "I'm going to see her."

Ryoga Hibiki almost fell over.

About twenty seconds of staring in shock at Ranma's retreating
back later, though, the Lost Boy snapped back to his senses and dashed
after the his rival. "Ranma you idiot!! Do you even know where her
school is?!"



Seated quietly on a bench outside, near a massive steel and
concrete structure that rose into the sky, was a young girl, dressed
in the dull red shirt and green skirt uniform of a student of Mugen
Gauken. The sun was shining warmly down on the dark-haired girl, the
long shadows of the giant school building managing to miss her, the
serene post of her bench, and the nearby green field of grass; and yet
the girl was apart from all this, cold and distant, not paying the
slightest bit of attention to the occasional student who hurried
past her.

She was bent slightly forward, her arms drawn to her chest and
her dark hair falling gently around her face. Her eyes were still,
seemingly fixated on a single spot before her. She rarely even blinked
as she seemed to stare emotionlessly downwards, at the rough concrete
surface of the sidewalk below her. The dull gray ground was far from
being on her mind, however, for though the sidewalk held her eyes, her
thoughts were far away.

"Ranma..." Hotaru murmured softly, her lips barely parting as the
word was released from her throat. As if on cue, a sudden chill wind
blew across the area, causing the young girl to shiver slightly and draw
up a little, her arms tightening against her to gather warmth. And as
she shifted, a lone ray of warm light fell upon her arms, drove away the
dark shadows that played across her chest and illuminated, for a single
instant, a thick, worn book and the word 'History'.



It was for no apparent reason that Minako Aino dropped her lunch
and jumped to her feet, spun to her right and stared in the direction
of the school building. A hand clenched tightly at her side, the
blond-haired Senshi stood staring silently at the school, her lunch
forgotten.

"Something..." she started, almost muttering as she stared ahead.
"Something's wrong..."

When the ground burst open in an explosion of concrete and dirt,
Minako knew something was wrong. The large humanoid creature that shot
through the dark opening, blinding almost everybody with the glare of
it's metallic skin confirmed the fact. Landing on the ground, the
creature, slender and glinting gold in the sunlight, seemed to drop
into some sort of fighting stance even as concrete and dirt rained down
around it.

"Vikry!!" it shouted out in a ringing voice that seemed to
float and linger in the air.

Staring grimly ahead, Minako instinctively summoned her
transformation pen, the familiar cold touch of its shaft comforting
her even as she knew she couldn't use it with so many civilians
around. "I have to get out of here..." she murmured as she kept
her gaze on the creature.

Flinching as she saw the students stumbling and scrambling away
from the creature, Minako glanced desperately around for a place to
safely transform. A sigh of relief escaping her lips as she realized
hiding behind the tree behind her and transforming would work, Minako
glanced one last time at the creature before dashing behind the tree
and raising a hand into the air.

"Venus Star Power, Make Up!"

A flash of light that went unnoticed by the running and otherwise
panicking students, and Sailor Venus was dashing towards the monster.



"Vikry!!" she screamed triumphantly into the air as she dropped
lightly to her feet, bending down slightly and dropping into a low
stance. The creature slowly scanned the area, taking in the young
teenagers scrambling away, a few screaming, and slowly smirked.

"Crystal Heart!!" she screamed, her voice splitting the air and
nearly blowing eardrums as she dashed forward towards a nearby student,
a young girl who had the signs of a particularly pure heart. All she
needed to do was retrieve the heart, then the Talisman surely inside it,
and it would all be over. The creature blurred as she ran forward, its
eyes moving only slightly from side to side to quickly take into count
all potential threats.

There were none.

She smirked, confidence filling her. Fulfill the mission, serve
to guide Pharaoh 90 to this planet, it depended on her.

"Venus Love-me Chain!!"

Danger!

A slight twist, a leap into the air, and she was rolling safely
away from the attack and onto her feet. Spinning around, her hands held
up in a loose stance, she focused on her attacker.

"I am Sailor Venus, defender of Love and Justice! How dare you
interrupt this peaceful school's lunch period, I can't allow it! In the
name of my guardian planet, Venus, I will punish you!"

Senshi.

She knew that word, a hated, reviled word that caused her to
tense and hiss. Senshi... that was what this blond-haired, skirt-wearing
human striking a pose 6 meters in front of her was: a Sailor Senshi,
enemy to her and the coming of Pharaoh 90.

She must be destroyed.

"Vikry!!" With that splitting scream that actually caused the
Senshi to flinch, she shot forward, almost blurring.

Kill the Senshi, serve Pharaoh 90.

The Senshi seemed surprised but quickly lashed out with her
strange chain-whip. Duck to the left, let the attack miss... Leap
and kill!

She was lunging at the Senshi, under the glowing whip, right hand
extended, razor-sharp nails ready to rip out the girl's throat and end
her futile resistance to the will of Pharaoh 90.

But the Senshi surprised her again, the girl's left hand darting
forward and pointing at her. A beam of light and a shout of "Venus
Crescent Beam Shower!" later she was forced to abandon her attack,
leaping to a side and rolling on the ground and to her knees, the swarm
of magic narrowly missing. She was on her feet in an instant, dashing
towards the Senshi, who was now jumping back and pulling her chain whip
in for another strike.

Then it hit.

She screamed, a mixture of pain and shock and dropped to her
knees, clutching her head as she felt the shockwaves of psychic trauma
battering and calling her... It was _her_... the Mistress... She was...

She was on her feet and breaking into a full sprint away from the
school, bending slightly and leaping with ease onto a nearby rooftop.
The Senshi was not important, Mistress 9 was awakening.



"Ranma... we're lost!"

These words, coming from the mouth of Ryoga Hibiki were strange
ones indeed, so strange that they might have actually caused the
pigtailed boy addressed to laugh under other circumstances. In their
current situation, however, Ranma merely decided to rub his chin and
stop, glancing around. Strange and unfamiliar buildings and street
signs met his gaze at every turn, and Ranma was forced to admit that
maybe they were lost.

"Great, this is all your fault Ryoga..." the pigtailed martial
artist muttered absently, stopping and leaning against a wall.

"How is this my fault??" the Lost Boy demanded incredulously,
resisting the urge to try and pound Ranma's face into that nice hard
wall he was resting on. "It was your idea to go find Hotaru, not mine!"

Ranma merely shrugged, replying, "Your bad luck probably rubbed
off on me or something, I actually have a good sense of direction,
remember?"

This time, Ryoga did punch at Ranma, his fist rocketing out in a
collision course with that aggravatingly matter-of-fact pigtailed head
in front of him.

Ranma was just a little bit quicker however, ducking down with not
a flinch as the Lost Boy's fist broke through hard brick just
centimeters above. In a second he was behind Ryoga, sighing and staring
down the road. Normally he'd actually enjoy a little stress-relieving
fight, but...

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ranma clenched his fists and
put all his formidable strength into staring down the road as if he
could somehow pierce the hundreds of stone and concrete walls and
buildings before him and find his friend.

Instead, he felt a hand gently drop onto his shoulder. Turning
his head slightly, he saw Ryoga, head tilted slightly toward the
ground and seeming a little uncomfortable.

"Ranma..." the Lost Boy started softly, trailing off and seeming
to be struggling for the right words. "Ranma," he started again after a
few moments of silence, this time looking into Ranma's eyes. "I think we
should go back now."

Ranma's reaction was instantaneous, his mouth flipping open and
an angry retort, something about not taking advice from brain-dead
idiots who didn't care about his friends, on the tip of his tongue.

It died off quickly however, as he looked into Ryoga's eyes,
saw the sincerity and serious expression, registered the sudden
tenseness of the Lost Boys hands when he spoke.

Clenching his fist in frustration, Ranma turned back around,
shrugging off Ryoga's hand and taking a few steps forward before
sighing and falling tiredly back against the wall. "I have to find
her..." he muttered, half to Ryoga, half to himself.

"You don't even know where she is," Ryoga replied briskly,
leaning back against the wall next to Ranma and staring blankly ahead.
"Lets just get back, we'll see her after school like always." The Lost
Boy's fist clenched a little, emphasizing the last word with an edge of
steel-cold confidence.

"She's close, I know she is...!" Ranma whispered softly and yet
with such adamant and desperate intensity that Ryoga was for a moment
at a loss for words.

"You don't know that..." the Lost Boy finally said after several
more moments of silence interrupted only by the stutter of engines as
the occasional car passed by.

Ranma was silent, his eyes now gazing sightlessly down at the
ground. "I..." he started, before trailing off and raising his head
slightly, his mouth half-open as if he were struggling to say
something important. "I just-"

"And just what are you kids doing here?"

Two head turned simultaneously towards the new voice, and the
first thing either noticed was the light blue shirt and crossed arms.



She blurred across the rooftops, a golden streak that blinded
any who happened to look up at her. Concrete cracked under her impact
and the roof threatened to give way every time she jumped from one
building to the next, but never did she give pause. The wind beat
against her, the sun tried to blind her, and she could feel the enemy
trying to keep up with her; she didn't care.

She was bent low, bolting across the rooftops like lightning.
Keep going, keep running, take the fastest possible way, all else was
negligible, all that mattered was to reach the Mistress and serve.

She leapt again, shooting through the air for what could have
been the hundredth time, but this time there was no roof to land on,
just a quick 10 meter drop onto a grassy field. She didn't miss a beat,
landing lightly and hardly pausing before she was bolting down the
green field in the direction of the Mistress.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw humans shouting and
scrambling away from her projected course. Some felt like they had
unusually pure crystal hearts, but she paid them no heed; they were
not of importance. All that mattered was that they were out of her
way and-

Raising her arms up before her, she crashed through a wall that
had been in her way, the concrete crumbling before her like paper.
Now indoors, she mowed through desks and chairs, even slamming into
the occasional human that got in her way before crashing through another
wall and beginning the cycle of crashing through desks, chairs and
students anew.

Screams, shouts, a high-pitched bell, panic and fear.

She crashed through another wall, and green fields were before
her again. She ran, broke through a thick stone wall, and jumped onto
another roof.



Ryoga had quickly dropped into a defensive stance, his left leg
pushing back against the ground as he raised his hands, fingers spread
loosely apart, before him.

Ranma had merely turned towards the newly-arrived police officer,
regarding him with an emotionless stare. There was no doubt in his mind
that this blue-shirted policeman intended to drag him back to school or
something. He had done something he wasn't supposed to do, and now the
the law had come; it didn't take Einstein to connect the two...

Ranma absently thought, as he stared into the officer's face, that
he should feel angry for being caught before he could find Hotaru... but
he had just been forced to admit to himself that he had about no chance
of finding her. Maybe it was better this way, at least he wouldn't have
to admit to Ryoga that he was wrong...

Looking back up again, he was a little surprised to see Ryoga
apparently arguing with the officer. The Lost Boy was speaking loudly,
almost shouting at the man, who answered with calm and collected replies
that only seemed to encourage Ryoga to argue even louder.

"You kids are supposed to be in school," the officer said
matter-of-factly.

"I'm not a kid!!!" Ryoga angrily shot back.

"You are in the eyes of the law," was the smooth reply, followed
with a short nod. "Now just come with me back to school and there
won't be a problem; but if you insist on resisting..." the officer
trailed off, letting his words linger in the air.

If anything, it only further angered Ryoga, and for a moment,
it almost looked like he was about to attack the policeman. The
man remained cool though, his arms still crossed and away from the
dark club on his hip. A long second later, the Lost Boy had calmed
down a little, just enough to restrain himself from attacking the man.

Ranma was absently impressed that he didn't have to stop Ryoga
himself. He and Genma had already had enough run-ins with the law,
and he'd rather stay out of trouble for as long as he could...

"Now you just tell me what school you go to, and I'll walk
you back," the officer said, his voice somehow managing to not sound
threatening.

For a few tense moments, Ranma stared silently at the two
in indecision. The lost boy was silent, staring back at the officer,
muscles tensed. The officer was calm, collected, and most importantly,
patient.

Run away... run away... he could run away, he was sure he could
make it away from the man, but... a small part of him somehow equated
running away from this situation with running away from Hotaru, and at
the same time, Ranma had already admitted he had no idea where Hotaru
was...

Taking a breath, a deep one that seemed to carry with it an air
of resignation, Ranma quietly slid one of his feet back, his legs
tensing as he prepared to...

Ryoga turned around, the officer turned around, and both set of
eyes focused on Ranma.

"W-what??" he stuttered, stumbling back slightly, surprised that
the two had noticed him. Well... he half-expected Ryoga to maybe notice
him, but not the officer! The guy may look fit, but he definitely didn't
_look_ like a martial artist...

He had overestimated the silence though, overestimated how
engrossed the two had been in their staring contest, and now he was
the center of their attention.

"What?!" Ranma asked again, quickly recovering from the sudden
combined stares and straightening up, staring back at the officer with
a defensive defiance usually seen on the Lost Boy's face.

Ryoga just gave an indifferent shrug, but the officer stared
silently at Ranma, glancing him and his uniform over before carefully
asking "and where do _you_ go to school?"

Ranma choked, his face turning towards the ground and his hand
sneaking to the back of his head somehow, rubbing it sheepishly. He
almost started to give a nervous chuckle, but caught himself and just
gave a few decoy coughs for a couple of seconds before raising his
head and giving the officer a sheepish smile.

"Well..." Ranma started, making sure the officer's eyes were
fixed on his own while he started making hand motions to Ryoga to start
sneaking away.

The Lost Boy didn't move, and Ranma didn't notice.

"I go to-" He started to shoot forward, a burst of strength
surging through his body, that familiar sense of breaking free
coming to him as he started to move and...

A flash of inspiration, a perfect idea, one so obviously obvious
that he was surprised he didn't think of it sooner. The famed Saotome
ability to think up of an idea at the last possible moment kicked in,
and Ranma quickly ground to a halt, a little disoriented from the rapid
acceleration and stop in the space of about a second, but very excited.

Ryoga was giving Ranma a quizzical, almost worried look, and the
officer was blinking, trying to figure out what had happened.

Ranma merely grinned, not even sparing the time to cover up the
strange display. Instead, he excitedly shouted out the words that would
solve all his problems. "Mugen! We go to Mugen Gauken Academy!"



The dark haired girl finally sighed, closing her eyes for a brief
moment before tiredly opening them again, and lifting her head up. She
straightened her back, staring ahead silently, the wind still and the
voices of the other students littered around the school seeming to have
faded away, leaving her alone.

It didn't matter, she already felt alone, so alone beneath the
rays of the sun, sitting by herself quietly on the bench.

Almost like... almost like...

For a short second, a flash of fear shot through her, her breath
catching, her heart skipping a beat, and she lowered the hands that had
been held to her chest, her eyes staring down at the object she had
clasped to her heart...

A... a...

Her vision flashed, her surroundings seemed to fade and be
replaced with red skies and shattered rubble, and as she looked
down saw a hard stone face resting in her arms, staring at her.

And just as quickly, it was gone, she was back in the school,
the voices of students filtering back into her hearing, and a thick
and worn history book rested gently in her hands.

Clenching her eyes shut, she pulled the book back against her,
her arms tightening and her head bent down as she softly sobbed. She
didn't really know why the tears came, but they did, and as they
slid down her cheek, the loneliness in her heart seemed to grow,
slipping free and forming a vacuum of... silence inside her, a
silent vacuum that yearned for comfort, a single smile or touch.
And all she could do was sniff, the air flowing into her delicate
nose tinged with the salt of tears.

The lunch period was almost over now.



Ranma grinned, waving back at the police officer and nudging
Ryoga to do the same. After a few dark mutters, the Lost Boy looked
stoically up and waved at the officer, who nodded and turned around,
walking away from the two and the towering structure behind them.

When the officer was far enough away, Ranma spun around,
grinning. "Hah! How bout that Ryoga, pretty smart huh?"

Ryoga turned around and gave a short chuckle, nodding. "I have
to admit that was pretty smart of you Ranma, even if you are an
honor-less thief."

"Who's an honor-less thief?!" Ranma snapped back, turning on the
Lost Boy with an annoyed scowl.

"You!" Ryoga shot back, grinning. This was more like it! Ranma
had finally gotten out of that slump of his; of course, it had to take
something like ditching school to go check on his girlfriend to do it...
"And you're ugly too!"

Ranma blinked, dropping back into a deceptively casual stance and
giving Ryoga an odd look. After a few long moments, the Lost Boy staring
into Ranma's eyes seriously, he started chuckling. "You gotta be kidding
me... That was the..." The pigtailed martial artist trailed off, shaking
his head in a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The Lost Boy grinned, his serious facade slipping off as he
started chuckling along, and for a single odd minute, the two laughed
together, and someone passing by would've said that the two seemed like
the best of friends.

The minute passed though, and their chuckles subsided, Ranma
shaking his head one last time before turning around and facing the
school.

"Alright Ryoga, lets go find her..."

The Lost Boy nodded and the two walked into Mugen Gauken.



As the duo followed the concrete paths winding around the school,
they seemed to attract a lot of stares. Ryoga didn't really notice or
cared, his constant travels having already hardened him to the curious
looks of people. Ranma, who had spend most of his life on the road,
didn't really pay attention or mind either, unless of course one of
those frail-looking guys in those fancy red uniforms tried to attack
him or something...

Ranma blinked, looking over one of the guys, causing him to flinch
and hurry away.

"Whoah..." Ranma muttered to himself, attracting Ryoga's curiosity
for a moment.

"What?" the Lost Boy asked. "Found Hotaru?"

Ranma shook his head. "Haven't you noticed? Our uniforms are
different from theirs." Ranma waved a hand in the general direction of
one of the passing male students.

Ryoga glanced at the student and saw that the uniforms were indeed
slightly different. His and Ranma's shirts were blue, but Mugen's was
white with a green tie, complete with dull red blazers, their pants a
rather glaring green with a patchwork of black plaid stripes. The color
scheme looked a lot better on the girls and their skirts...

Ryoga shook his head, wondering how the police officer had fallen
for Ranma's little trick. "This just proves you're an idiot, Saotome..."

Ranma just rolled his eyes. "Why don't you try calling me
something else for a-" He abruptly shut his mouth, his left hand
raised up in front of the Lost Boy, somehow holding him back more
effectively than solid concrete could.

Almost running on reflex, Ryoga's head turned to Ranma, an annoyed
look on the bandanna-clad face. "What the hell's the big... idea...?"
Ryoga trailed off, his annoyance turning into fascination as he observed
the silent face of his rival, saw the way his mouth was just slightly
open, his eyes seeming to have filtered out everything else but one
thing... one person...

The Lost Boy followed his pigtailed rival's eyes, and soon saw
what had so completely caught his attention. There, just 15 or so
meters ahead of them, hunched quietly on a bench, was...

"Hotaru!" Ranma was already dashing towards the girl.



She was near, she could feel it. The earth, the air, it all
seemed to sing to her, in her, throughout her very being. The closer
she got, the more the power burned within her, and she knew the
Mistress was nearer. Every building she leapt, every meter she shot
forward brought her closer to the Mistress, why or for what she did
not know, all she knew was to serve Pharaoh 90, and to serve Mistress 9
was to serve Pharaoh 90.

So close... so close that the power nearly burst from her, such
raw, pulsating waves of power that it nearly drove her to her knees;
but she reveled in it! Reveled in the will of... of her gods and that
she might be so blessed as to feel their presence!

One last building! She jumped into the air, her eyes sweeping
across the earth below her. Immediately, she felt the throbbing pulse
of dark energy flowing from the stretching structure of metal and
concrete that towered over the ground; but that was quickly washed out,
dwarfed and shadowed by... there!

Her eyes shot onto her, focusing, bringing into crystal clarity
the one, the goddess that she was to serve. There, on the bench, by the
human.

Mistress 9, her mind seemed to scream at her, but then...
what was this? The waves were weakening, the energy dissipating, her
goddess staring at the human standing in front of her.

The human... what was... he dared challenge the Mistress's
power?!

With a splitting scream, she dived towards the ground, glinting
like a bolt of golden lightning, arms extended, ready to rip out the
pigtailed human's heart and present it to Mistress 9.



"Hotaru, it's me!" Ranma said, sliding to a stop in front of
the dark-haired girl, the silent and intelligent dark-haired girl
that had been his best and sometimes only friend for the past week.

He didn't know why, but his heart was pounding, his breath
coming quickly, almost as if he had just gone through a round of
sparring with his father; but all he had done was sprint 15 meters...

There wasn't anytime to wonder about that though, and as the
eyes of his friend slowly, almost hesitatingly lifted up, he quickly
forgot about everything else.

"Ranma...?"

He saw her delicate face look up at him, her dark, purple eyes
staring at him as if in disbelief. Then, he saw the eyes clenched
shut, tears welling up and threatening to burst free, and for a moment
he was afraid that he had done something wrong. But then he saw the
smile, a relieved smile that broke across her face like ripples across
water; light and playful ripples spreading over a gaping abyss of
darkness.

"Ranma!"

She jumped up, her arms wrapping around him and holding him close,
the thick book that had been pressed against her chest sliding down
and dropping to the ground with a dull thud. She sniffed, blinked
away the tears and just held onto him, held onto Ranma.

He was here... he was here with her and the darkness that had
been haunting her seemed to slip away, the void that had been gnawing
at her heart fading into nothingness like mist as she felt him, felt
his slowly rising chest around her arms and pressed against her cheek.

"I'm so glad you're here..." she murmured softly.

Ranma was frozen, confused by the storm of emotions that
seemed to be whirling around his friend. When he had first looked into
her eyes he had glimpsed a deep despair, and now...

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his friend, pulled her a
little closer. Something was wrong... he was right to go look for
her...

"Hey, Hotaru..." he said softly, not sure what to say. "I was...
worried about you, so um..." He trailed off, now at a lost for words,
and instead just held his friend.

"That was sweet of you..." the girl softly whispered back, not
really caring why Ranma was there, just glad that he was there, living
and real...

The pigtailed martial artist shifted slightly, giving a few
sheepish chuckles. "Um... yeah, I guess..."

Hotaru smiled softly at his words, her heart growing lighter,
the demons that had haunted her now nearly forgotten. "You are,
Ranma, you-"

She stopped, suddenly growing cold, an almost-familiar shadow
slowly spreading through her being. She opened her eyes, confused, and
for some reason beyond her comprehension, she pushed herself up slightly
and looked behind Ranma, over his shoulders.

Her eyes widened, she gasped, and dark, icy terror clamped around
her heart, shot through her body like lightning.

She would've screamed if her vision hadn't flooded white then,
and her consciousness slipped away into the recesses of her mind. The
last thing she saw was a golden blur and a fluttering pigtail.



Ranma tensed, as he felt Hotaru's distress. He was about to ask
her what was wrong, but at that same instant, his mind seemed to scream
at him to turn around, that something was coming at him.

He heard Ryoga shout a warning and stupidly, against an entire
lifetime of training, Ranma instinctively, mechanically turned around.

He only saw a golden blur streaking across the ground and
glinting under the noonday sun before something hurtled into his chest,
knocked the breath out of his lungs. Before his head had even snapped
back from the shock of the impact, cold and icy steel seemed to wrap
around his throat and he felt himself being lifted into and pushed
through the air. He could feel himself hurtling through the air, his
lungs screaming for oxygen and his throat slowly being crushed, as if
somebody had grabbed him by the neck and was about to-

His back seemed to explode in a sharp spike of pain as something
hard collided into it, or maybe he hit something, he couldn't tell with
his lungs burning, his limbs growing numb and his vision becoming hazy,
all he could do was grunt out a strangled cry of pain as he felt himself
being pulled forward.

He heard crumbling gravel behind him through the ringing of his
ears and then, the icy pressure on his neck seemed to tighten before he
felt his back again slammed into something, a splitting crack and the
sound of crumbling rock managing to reach through his ears.

Fight back... he had to... break free. Weakly, he tried to lift up
a foot, kick at whatever was attacking him, but once again he felt
himself slammed through the air and into something. Pain exploded in
his back, he was sure he was bleeding by now and his legs just seemed
to give out.

"Let go of him you monster!"

That voice... that was... he gave out another strangled cry as his
neck was seemingly jerked to a side, almost tearing his head and body
apart. But then he felt the icy steel that had been clamped around his
neck disappeared and he slumped onto the ground.

He lay there on the ground, his eyes shut and gasping for breathe.
His neck burned now, his back throbbed in pain and every muscle in his
body seemed to scream at him to lay down and rest, let soothing darkness
envelope him and silence the ringing in his ears.

Hotaru...

He had to... look out for Hotaru...

Weakly, he grabbed onto something, a rough and uneven jag of
brick, a hole in the wall, and pulled himself back to his feet. Gently
touching his forehead with one hand, as if that would somehow make the
ringing in his ears go away, he opened his eyes.

His vision was blurry, the world fuzzy and surreal, but gradually,
he made out the dark, running form of students. Gradually, the ringing
in his ears subsided and he could hear screams, shouts, and... an
explosion!

His eyes shot to the source, his legs slipping into a weak
stance, his arms raised shakily in front of him.

A blue form, a yellow bandanna barely visible on a blurred head
shot across Ranma's vision 10 meters in front of him, and slammed
messily into a bench.

The bench cracked and split in two, and the bandana-clad figure
rolled to a side and jumped back onto his feet with a shake of his head.

Ryoga!

Ranma opened his mouth, tried to call out to the Lost Boy, but his
voice was hoarse and his throat cracked.

Eyes clenched momentarily in frustration, Ranma forced a hot mess
of saliva down his throat. It seemed to burn as he swallowed it, but it
brought moisture back to his throat, and he was able to shout out to
the Lost Boy.

"Ryoga!" he called out, not sure why he did, but not knowing what
else to do.

The Lost Boy glanced in Ranma's direction, and for a moment, his
eyes closed and he sighed, seemingly in... relief?

The look quickly passed and Ryoga's face hardened as he glared at
Ranma. "Damn you Ranma, you're always causing me trouble!"

Ranma was silent, his breathing just starting to return to normal,
the pain in his chest and back slowly starting to fade away. 'Don't
blame this on me!' he wanted to shout back at the Lost Boy, among a
myriad of other things, but something else quickly reminded the
pigtailed martial artist of its importance, and Ranma shouted back
"where's Hotaru?!"

Instead of replying, Ryoga ducked, dashing forward to shoulder ram
something.

Ranma stared confusedly, his vision still shaking and a little
blurry. What was Ryoga...

Then he saw her, saw it. Ranma saw the thing Ryoga was fighting,
the thing that easily sidestepped Ryoga's attack, was even now lunging
at him in a furious barrage of slashes that cut the Lost Boy and sent
him sprawling into the ground.

She had the slender form and curves a female, but... everything,
from the boots that seemed to meld into her skin to the glinting and
frozen ponytail that didn't so much as sway with her attacks, was
completely golden. Glinting and shining under the sunlight, she was
gold, a real, metallic kind of gold that sparkled with an almost
hypnotic glare. She was like... like some kind of living statue; her
feet even clicked and clinked with the concrete as she... walked...

Ryoga! The Lost Boy was down, grunting as he stirred slowly
on the ground, blood starting to trickle down his side and defenseless
against his approaching enemy.

Ranma jerked his shoulders back, rolling and stretching the
joints, forcing the pain in his back out of his mind with a frustrated
sigh. Then, sliding his right leg back, he bent down slightly and broke
into a dash towards the golden figure. "Leave him alone ya crazy girl!"

To his relief, the golden girl, golden creature looked up, looked
at him and turned her attention away from Ryoga.

It was too late, he had her.

He shifted his weight, just a little, and leaned to his left,
still darting like lightning across the ground. He raised his right
arm, tensed the muscles and prepared to slam the arm against her gut
and pull her to the ground.

Now!

He gave his body an extra shove of energy, almost lunged at the
girl, left hand guarding his face while he tackled her with his right
arm.

Pull her-

He missed! His arm shoved through air and he overextended himself,
his spurt of speed sending him toppling towards the ground.

Quickly, he shoved his arms straight ahead of him, caught the
ground with his hands as he fell and sprung himself back into the air,
wincing in a bit of pain as he landed lightly on the ground.

He knew it was coming without even seeing it, her right fist,
rocketing towards him. He couldn't block it, not something that fast, he
could almost feel the air move from its speed alone! But he had known
it was coming and as he spun around to face her, he ducked low, coming
up on her left and grabbing the arm with his left hand. Vaguely, even
as his right elbow arced up to catch the arm and twist her onto the
ground, he noticed that her arm _felt_ like steel, cold and hard, smooth
as crystal.

It was only a fraction of an instant later, before his elbow was
even halfway to its target that he felt his entire body jerked upward,
swinging into the air.

Instinctively, he shifted his form, tried to make himself flow as
smoothly with the air as possible, and when he finally slammed into the
ground, it was on his feet.

Pain shot upwards through his legs like lightning as he hit, the
strength and power of the impact more than he had expected, drawing a
barely choked-off cry of pain from him. It was only because of years of
training that he remembered, instinctively, to follow through with the
attack, use the momentum of the throw and try to throw his attacker in
turn.

He nearly jerked his arm out of its socket trying to, and the next
thing he saw was a flash of gold. Not even a blur, just the glint of
light off her arm and he was flying through the air, his grip on her arm
torn off by the sheer force of the strike to his chest.

He collided into a tree with a gasp of air being knocked out of
his lungs. Vaguely, he heard the wood groan and crack behind him, the
tree shuddering from the impact. Weakly, he rolled to a side and back
onto his knees, gasping for breath as he raised his head.

He inhaled sharply and forced himself upright as he saw her, a
golden blur streaking right at him. Desperately, he threw himself to a
side, no skill, no form, just a wild attempt to get to safety.

He hit the ground with a thud, taking the fall to one side. His
lungs still burned for breath but somehow, he knew he had to move fast,
never hesitate, and he pushed himself to a side, rolled away from where
he had been lying.

Just a split second later he heard the shuddering crash of
something crushing into the ground, felt chunks of dirt and rock raining
onto him.

He didn't spare the time to think about how close he had been to
having his head caved in. Raising himself just a little bit off the
ground, he swung his left leg at where he had been, where his enemy
was.

He put everything he could into the kick, all the desperate
strength he could burst into a blinding half second, all the willpower
he could strain into twisting himself into perfect form. It was a
perfect mix, a seamless merging of the sheer force and power of
desperation, the careful restraint and control of the mind, and the pure
heart and instinct that guided him; it was an attack the martial
artist in him could, looking back on, be _proud_ of.

Pain, sharp and fast, shot through his leg, he felt his shin
colliding against her leg. Hard, harder than steel and unyielding to
his leg, he felt as if he were kicking a mountain.

Control.

His teeth grit against the pain, he kept control, didn't
reflexively pull his leg back, away from the unyielding mountain and
the pain. His eyes clenched, his throat screaming a silent battle cry
with air his lungs could not give, he forced himself to follow through
with the kick and continue twisting his body.

And then the mountain gave way.

His leg broke through and he felt only the stinging pain and rush
of air as his enemy fell backwards. This time, he let instinct take
over, planting his foot, still sharp with pain, into the ground and
twisting himself into the air. A lesser man would have hesitated after
the first painful kick, probably dropped to the ground to nurse his leg.
Ranma did neither; he let himself spin around with the momentum in a
kick that slammed his right leg into the enemy's back.

He struck solid metal once more, hit the mountain full on and pain
now shot through his good leg. But it was his good leg, and with the
momentum of the first kick behind him, he was able to just barely
reverse his enemy's fall, push it forward again.

One more time!

He pulled his feet back to him, landing on the ground with a
sharp shots of renewed pain, his legs almost buckling under him; but
once more, he spun around, this time his left arm, stiff and tense,
shot through the air and collided into the enemy's cold, hard gut.

Steel, the pain of slamming into a solid granite wall, and a
sudden burst of dizziness as his brain screamed at him for oxygen, and
he felt his enemy crashing backwards again.

He spun to face his enemy just as it hit the ground. Adrenaline
surged through his body and he gasped for the air he had went without
for the last few excruciating seconds. He wanted to drop for his knees
and fall on his side and gasp for air for the next hour; but instead he
shifted his weight onto his right leg, his... better leg as he slipped
into a limp stance.

Here was something dangerous, his senses seemed to scream at him.
Here, lying slightly imbedded into the ground, was something that would
kill him and everything he cared about without so much as a moment of
hesitation if he didn't stop it! Kill it, his mind seemed to shout at
him, protect Hotaru his heart whispered to him...

Only his iron control- and his pain-wracked body- kept him from
immediately lunging at his downed enemy to finish the damn thing off and
end its existence. Though it seemed to shake and squeeze his brain into
itself, Ranma shook his head, giving an angry grunt.

It... enemy... when had he started thinking of... of _her_ like
that? When had he started thinking about _killing_ this girl?!

Ranma clenched his eyes close, inhaling angrily. He wasn't like
that... he wouldn't kill a girl, defenseless on the ground like that...

'Not even for Hotaru?' something seemed to ask him.

Movement, light playing across glinting metal.

Ranma's eyes snapped open, shot back onto the girl, and he
quickly took a few pained steps backwards, kept his distance from her
as she pushed herself backward and rolled into a low crouch.

Slowly, almost eerily, with the light dancing and flickering off
stiff, golden bangs, she lifted her head and stared at Ranma. Cold,
golden eyes, elaborate and finely detailed in contrast to the rest of
her body, stared into Ranma, and for a moment, the pigtailed martial
artist even thought he saw something flash across their sleek, empty
surface.

Anger, caution, a brief moment of... confusion?

"Vikry!" she almost shrieked, a sharp and piercing cry that made
Ranma wince and almost turn his head. It was probably the most effective
use of a battle cry Ranma had ever seen, and in the split instinct that
he let himself be distracted by the piercing scream, the girl was
bolting at him, crouched low and almost too fast to see.

With almost nothing to guide him, Ranma let reflex take over and
jumped to his left, his left foot throbbing with pain as his full body
weight was pressed into it. It burned even more as he balanced himself
and twisted his body, kicking at the girl with his right leg.

He hit only air, the girl seeming to have just teleported out of
harm's way, and he followed through with the kick until he had
spun completely around.

As he came around and faced the girl, the first thing he saw was
a flash of gold. Too blurry, too fast to recognize, he just trusted his
gut and leaned back.

His back protested, throbbing in pain, and he bent a little to
the side, just barely in time as a streak of gold shot past him. The girl
seemed to stay still for an instant, as if not believing she had missed,
and Ranma could see the clenched fist hovering where his head had been.

Slowly, like rose petals parting, the hand unclenched and the
girl twisted her head around. It felt strange, and it seemed to Ranma as
if her solid neck would creak and groan like a thin layer of concrete
cracking; but it was smooth instead, silent and graceful, like
quicksilver, and she once again stared at Ranma.

'Do something!' his mind screamed at him, a half-dozen strategies
and attacks he could use silently pounding in his mind.

It was too late; the outstretched hand locked into a knife edge,
stiff and solid as a sword and stronger than any steel edge. Swiftly,
silently, it swung at him, at his neck.

Reacting once again, he ducked low, crouched slightly, and bolted
under her arm and to the other side. Spinning around, he had a split
second to see that she was lunging at him shoulder first before he
felt his chest exploding with pain. Gasping as the air was knocked out
of his lungs once more, he flew through the air again. This time, he
didn't hit anything and quickly crashed into the ground, sending bolts
of pain ripping across his back.

Biting off a scream, the pigtailed martial artist rolled to a side
and pushed himself up. Gasping for breath, he stumbled back to his feet,
only to suddenly feel his head explode with white as something slammed
into it, sent it snapping violently back and him onto the ground.

He hit the ground, hurting all over. He couldn't even spare the
time to gasp for air, instead rolling to the side again, the violent
gush of air that fluttered his pigtail justifying the effort.

He was on the ground... she was trying to attack him while he was
on the ground?

Grunting, he shoved himself to the side, away from the girl and
onto his knees. Gasping for breath, he pushed himself back to his feet
and-

"Vikry!"

He almost instinctively turned around to the source of the voice,
but didn't have the strength. Instead, he stumbled to his left, barely
dodged the punch that ripped through the air.

Chest heaving, he turned clumsily around, hands held up weakly
before him in a gesture of defense. Still breathing heavily, he
ducked again, dodged the elbow that arced towards his head.

Offensive... he had to go on the offensive... even with the
adrenaline pulsing throughout him, did he have the strength to go
on the offensive?

He tried not to show it, didn't hesitate as he came up, but
Ranma was at a loss for what to do; if he kept letting her run the
fight like-

He sidestepped to the left and narrowly dodged the fist that tore
through the air. It was followed up by another elbow arcing towards
him, and he hopped back, the golden metal of the arm slashing by just
centimeters from his face.

It was already pounding, but as he felt strength enough to crush
his head in so close to him, his heart seemed to jump into his throat.

Dammit, he had to do something!

Adrenaline surged through him anew, and for a brief moment, his
pain was forgotten, the burning in his lungs fading away. Pulling
his left hand protectively close to his face, he bolted forward,
jabbing out with his right fist.

He kept it loose and relaxed as it shot through the air, light
and relaxed, only clenching it tight and hard at the last instant.

The girls body seemed to almost teleport to the side, too fast for
his attack, and his fist hit air. He didn't stop, going with the
momentum of the attack and keeping from overextending himself at the
same time as he arced his left elbow at the girl.

Light glinting off her skin, she shot down, his elbow slicing
harmlessly through the air.

He didn't stop, the momentum of both attacks flowing with him
as he twisted to his left and lashed out with his right leg.

He hit solid steel, his bone clanking painfully into a golden
hand that wrapped itself on his leg with iron tenacity.

Still, he did not stop.

Focusing his strength and willpower into a piercing shout filled
with a whirlwind of emotion, he pushed himself into the air with his
caught foot, twisting himself around and yanking the foot free.

Spinning over her, he pulled his feet into him, dropped lightly
onto the ground and spun on his left foot, lashing out with his right
leg like lighting.

She was already gone, in the air and now hurtling towards him
feet first.

Shift his body, just a little. Don't move, just shift at exactly
the right... now!

She missed him, crashed passed him and into the ground.

Cant let her go first, have to attack...! His right fist shot
out, tried to knock her in her head even as she spun around to
face him.

She ducked before she had even completely turned around,
his fist sailing harmlessly over her.

He didn't hesitate, followed with a simple roundhouse that
she easily blocked. Shoving his kick to a side, she lunged forward,
swinging at him with her right arm.

"Vikry!"

Barely able to keep his balance after his leg had been shoved
aside, Ranma just lunged at the girl as she came at him, his shoulder
crashing against her and pulsing in pain.

But she stumbled back, and his right hand, loosely clenched in
a fist, shot at her again. He never got the chance to tighten it;
her hand shot up, impossibly fast and glaringly golden, and the next
thing Ranma new, his fist was being crushed.

Only years of intense training and conditioning on the rough
roads of Japan kept Ranma from crying out in pain as he started
falling to his knees. Instead, his eyes clenched shut and he gasped
for breath, as if somehow taking in the air his lungs so desperately
wanted would numb the pain in his hand.

Do something... other hand... opening there was... he couldn't
see her, but he knew there was an opening.

Weakly, Ranma tried to raise his left arm, grab her throat,
punch her gut, anything! Before he had even raised his hand 2 inches,
fresh waves of pain, sharp and agonizing, shot through his immobilized
fist. He thought he heard bones cracking, he _felt_ bones starting to
creak and crack, his nails digging into his palm as it was forced
smaller and smaller.

His body slumped forward and jumped as something thudded against
his chest. It felt like a telephone pole had slammed into his chest,
or perhaps even Ryoga tackling him, and it knocked the breath out of
his lungs.

As if once wasn't enough, it came again, and then again; pain
spreading through his chest and the terrible feeling of not being able
to breathe as his already empty lungs were emptied again.

He was wheezing now, coughing and gasping for breath, his free
arm hanging limp by his side, _himself_ slumped and limp, held upright
only by the girl.

Something... somebody was shouting something... he could just
barely hear it through the ringing in his ears; just barely even
recognize it as words through the pain throbbing throughout his mind
and body.

Abruptly, he felt himself jerked to a side, as if the girl
holding him had suddenly tried to yank his arm out of its socket.
But in the next instant, his hand was free and he collapsed onto
the ground, an aching, gasping wreck that couldn't even open his
eyes.

So much pain... his head throbbed and burned, his brain felt
as if it were being squeezed as his hand had been and his entire
body was wracked with the sharp agony of the fight. His hand...
his hand lay limply by his side; even if he could comprehend more
than the need to just breath, he wouldn't have tried to move
it.

Slowly, after what seemed like an unbearably long eternity of
lying on the ground- in the shade of something he felt- he started
to make out grunts and shouts: the sounds of fighting.

Ryoga!

He almost bolted upright, but the quick knife-sharp spike of
agony that attacked him quickly brought him back onto the ground.

"R-Ryoga..." he muttered. He had to help Ryoga...

Weakly, he groped blindly around with a hand, tried to find
something to hold onto. After a few slow seconds of grabbing at air
and grass, Ranma caught onto the rough bark of a tree and managed to
pull himself upright.

Leaning back against the tree, the martial artist opened his eyes,
tiredly looked over the area for... there, there was Ryoga.

The Lost Boy was fighting a losing fight; already he was limping,
blood even trickling down his face. He had the strength of a stubborn ox
though, and kept on swinging, jabbing, kicking and lunging at the girl.

She seemed to almost taunt him, weaving in and out, away and
behind him. With the sun glinting off her brilliant golden form, her
attacks swift and strangely graceful, she looked almost... beautiful.

None of that mattered to Ranma, all he saw with his white-spotted
vision was Ryoga, Ryoga too slow, determined, strong and even skilled,
but all too slow...

Who the hell was that girl?! Dammit... even he could barely touch
her... Anger surged through him, and Ranma tried to jump up, shout
something.

His mouth was dry, the cry getting caught in his throat and coming
out as a hoarse croak. Gasping and panting heavily, he dropped back
against the tree and just watched.

All Ranma could do was watch as the Lost Boy, screaming and
attacking with furious abandon, was ultimately beaten into a limping
mess and flung against a wall.

The bandana-clad martial artist shattered the wall, sent up a
small cloud of dust and debris that half-buried him. The Lost Boy
stirred weakly in the pile and tried to get up, but the girl had
already turned her attention back to Ranma.

The pigtailed martial artist stared at the girl grimly, eyes
narrowed and breath still coming in quick, long gasps. She was walking
towards him now, long swift strides that seemed almost surreal. Like a
statue walking towards him...

Grunting, Ranma tried to force himself to his feet again, and once
again he dropped back down. He felt so weak... so tired... and he hurt
so much, his vision almost swam in pain every time he tried to move...

Gasping, panting, prone and defenseless, all Ranma could do was
stare at the light glinting off her metallic form as the girl
approached him.

He had to do something... had to do something before she got to
him... dammit, what was she going to do?!

"Ranma!" a voice called out, distant but clear and familiar.

He jerked upright, immediately slumped back down again as his head
exploded in pain. After a second, he forced his eyes open and quickly
focused on the source of the voice.

There...

"Ranma, hold on!!"

As his eyes rested onto her, the young girl dashing towards him,
the first thing Ranma felt was relief. It washed over him as he saw her
face filled with worry, and the lethargy that clung onto him seemed to
lift a little, the pain in his body fading just a bit.

"Hotaru..." he murmured.

Then he remembered the girl and his eyes shot back onto her
golden form. She had paused now, and as she turned her head and looked
at Hotaru, it seemed as if every fear that had been eating at the
pigtailed martial artist were manifest. He saw Ryoga crashing into
a wall, saw himself beaten and tossed around like a rag doll, and
then he saw Hotaru, frail, defenseless Hotaru being stared down by the
golden statue...

"N-no...!" the martial artist gasped out, and with a burst of
sheer willpower, he grabbed onto the tree and managed to pull himself
to his feet. Not thinking straight, seeing only Hotaru and the girl in
his eyes, he tried to walk towards them, only to stumble and drop to
his knees at the first step, his legs giving away as if they were
collapsible chairs. On his knees, hands barely keeping his body from
dropping onto the ground, Ranma slowly raised his head, looked up at
the girl. She was walking towards him again. Shakily, he turned his
eyes back to Hotaru; she was still now, hands held against her chest
and eyes staring blankly at the girl.

"Ranma watch out!"

Ranma turned weakly back to the girl. She had somehow made it
in front of him now, probably ran up to him in the second he had
turned away from her. It didn't matter, he couldn't have defended
himself even if he had seen her anyway.

Weakly, he shoved his right arm at her in a slow, tired imitation
of a punch. It burned with pain and even if he had the strength to pull
a punch, the cracked and brittle bones of the hand would've kept him
from even forming a fist.

She swatted it aside with one of here legs, stared down at him
and seemed to growl, soft and deadly, "Vik Ry..."

In the next instant, Ranma's vision flooded white and he was
shooting backwards again, through the air and past the tree. He thought
he heard Hotaru scream his name, he didn't even feel the pain anymore;
maybe he had been throbbing in agony for so long now that this new
injury just faded into the river of existing injuries, or maybe his body
had just taken so much pain that he couldn't feel it anymore.

All Ranma knew was that he was dizzy all over again, tired all
over again, panting and gasping for breath all over again.

Still, stubbornly he opened his eyes, looked hazily at Hotaru. Her
face was contorted in fear, her lips were moving, her mouth opening
wide. Was she trying to tell him something? He couldn't hear her
anymore... he couldn't even hear his own breathing.

The girl... she had turned around, was walking towards Hotaru
now...

Hotaru... anger flooded into him, he felt his lips move, knew he
shouted something out, but couldn't quite grasp what. It was all so
surreal, as if he were watching himself lurch forward and collapse onto
the ground from outside... except he was inside. As if it were someone
else that pushed himself back up, moved his arms, moved his lips,
screamed at Hotaru, at the girl, screamed his fear, anger, frustration,
hate... love...

Then, his vision seemed to flood yellow, the world fading away
into brightness and warmth. All of a sudden, he felt safe and warm, as
if someone had covered him in a warm blanket and was holding him close.
For a brief instant, smiling softly at him as if to say everything was
alright, he saw Hotaru's face.

Clinging onto that image, Ranma fell face forward into the ground,
and knew no more.



Slowly, her steps grinding sharply into the earth like a knife,
she walked forward. There were craters everywhere, mostly from the wild
attacks of that bandanna-wearing human and her slamming him repeatedly
into the ground. He had been strong for a human, just as that other one
had been, but in the end they both lay broken and shattered at her feet,
her tribute to the glory of Pharaoh 90.

Mistress 9...

She could feel the Mistress's power, spiking and rising again!
There, ahead of her... The Mistress was trapped in the frail body of
a human girl, but it was her. That strength, the pure rivers of dark
energy that seemed to roll from her, there was no mistaking her!

Yes, it had been the human who had somehow challenged Mistress 9.
Smiling softly as she walked into her goddess's presence, her heart
seemed to sing out. Senshi, crystal hearts... it all seemed so distant
and trivial, so utterly human concerns in the face of such power. How
could such a pathetic world challenge Mistress 9? How could it even
dream of challenging Pharaoh 90? How could it challenge... gods?

Energy, a spike of power from behind her!

Spinning around and crouching low, she quickly scanned the
battered field, her eyes quickly resting on the human she had broken
just moments earlier. He was on his knees, shouting something at her;
such raw emotion and energy, fear, anger, hate... all whirling around
him in a wild mix of power.

He lifted his arms, still shouting madly, and she pushed one of
her feet back against the ground, prepared to bolt at the stubborn
human and end his dizzying projections of pathetic human emotion.

Just as she stared to sprint forward, the human seemed to burst
with power, a spike of energy that saturated the air with such raw
emotion and so suddenly that it battered her mind and drove her to her
knees. Clutching the ground with her hands, as if it were the only thing
keeping her from being blown in away in the hurricane of dark energy,
she slowly raised her head.

What was... he doing? Was he trying to attack the Mistress before
she had fully awakened? He had to be stopped! Carefully and
deliberately, with the dark energies that was the blessing of Pharaoh 90
to all his children pumping through her, she got back to her feet. She
would never let a human like him so much as touch Mistress 9!

He seemed to flare with power now, real and physical, a burning
aura of brilliant yellow, already beating against her own golden form
with its shining color as if to say challenge her. Then, as the glaring
light seemed to reach it's brightest, it burst into the heavens in a
brilliant pillar of light; she screamed, lifted her hands in front of
her eyes and bolted forward, blindingly fast. She would rip his heart
out!!

The world all around her seemed to flash away into nothingness
then, a quick flood of shining yellow, brilliant as the sun. For a
brief second, she felt a surge of electrifying power course through
her body, and all she could do was scream "Vikry!!" one more time before
she herself faded into nothingness.

After the light faded away, and Ranma had collapsed onto the
ground, all that was left where the golden skinned, living statue
had been, was a small metal figure, glinting a dirty, rusty gold and
shaped with the figure and curves of a female. Etched on a rusted
plate on its base, a slab of dull marble, were the words:

1st Place
Juuban Martial Arts Tournament
Women's Division


To be continued...



Well, I bet some of you thought I was dead by now, but its finally
out, chapter 5 of Sound Hearts. For those of you that actually emailed
me... thanks, I really appreciate it.

Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter; there are a lot of things
I'm proud of in it. I also recall making several promises for more
action, and well... here you have it! Hopefully it was good; I had to
start it two times before I got it the way I wanted...

And thanks to my prereaders too, who pointed out such crucial
mistakes as the fact that Mugen's boys uniform was not blue and that
I had spelled Pharaoh two different ways... Well, those of you that
responded anyway. For the prereaders out there that didn't send back
C&C, I understand that most of you haven't heard from me in awhile, so
I can understand that something may have happened like the changing of
emails or marriage. (Congrats again Will!). But if you're still
interested in prereading, please email me sometime before chapter 6
gets out... Other than that, thanks for reading!

Lates!


KaosQu
kaosqu@hotmail.com




"Sometimes, when I'm by myself, with the wild sky overhead, I look up.
I look into that dark, stretching ocean of air, and I wonder to
myself... Where the hell are the stars?"







































"If you've dear sweet thoughts about me
then why not whisper them to me?
Don't you know twould make me happy
and as glad as glad can be?"

- Excerpt of 'I Love You Now and Forever'