Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Misery Loves Company ❯ Haunted Pasts ( Chapter 2 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Most of the characters within the story are from the Anime Series,
Ranma 1/2 and are property of Rumiko Takahashi, and whoever else may
own the rights. I write this without permission and do so with no
attempt to profit off of the marvelous works. Rather, I do so for
everyone's benefit. Please enjoy and tell me what you think.


Lifted by the warm greeting and the happy faces, Kimiko enters into a
seemingly pleasant world. As the sky grows dark with the jealousy and
rage of the mad, the surface of her newly discovered plane will be
permanently shattered by those seeking her demise. Time will only tell
if fate allows her salvation from the darkness, or the bitterness of
eternity to be caught in its web of lies, deceit and worst of all,
love.

Warning: This fanfiction has adult themes and situations that may be
offensive to some parties. Viewer discretion is advised.

**********************************************
*A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction: Misery Loves Company*
**********************************************
-Third Fanfiction, following "Vengeance" and "A New Life."
by Ryan Erik


Part Two: Haunted Pasts


Glancing across the surface of the blue river, the coin shaped
rock skipped nearly thirty feet before plunging into the water.
Another followed, though it only stretched half the distance before it
sank to the riverbed. Another, the size of his open palm, was raised
to meet a similar fate as its brethren, but instead was tossed to the
side. The hand that had thrown the rocks fell to the side of its
owner, firmly placed on the dirt.

He sighed, watching as the sun began its slow but steady ascent on
its way towards the zenith, but it still had nearly six hours until
then. The sky was empty at the moment, not even the slightest swirl of
white water vapor tainting it. He closed his eyes for a moment as a
bell sounded out across the water, striking seven times. He wondered
if it had been that long since he sat down upon the riverbank. It
seemed as though only a moment had past, yet he had been throwing
stones for nearly an hour. He did more than toss rocks across the
rippling water; he used this time to think.

His bare arms tingled from the cold as did his wet feet, but he
ignored the discomfort for it was hardly comparable to the pain he
felt inside, the emotional strife that fed his depression. His eyes
blinked open and he turned to see his younger brother walking down the
incline of the hill towards him. Turning again, he stoically faced the
water, a tinge of anger burning within him. It was not for his
brother, but he often directed it at him.

"What do you want, Shin-kun?" He found another stone and cast it
skidding across the water. "I told you not to follow me." He had no
need to see his brother to know that he was scared. "What's the
matter?"

Shintaro sat to his right but he did not turn to face him. He
could feel his little brother's eyes weighing him, judging him, just
like everyone else. "Poppa wants you to come home and get ready to
go."

He caught himself from snorting in disgust; after all, it was not
his brother's fault. "Was he mad?"

"No," Shintaro whispered, as if surprised by it himself. "He was
excited, though, and told me to find you and tell you that we're
leaving at nine instead of eleven." His brother paused tentatively,
and continued, "I wouldn't have come out here if he didn't say so, I
swear!"

He sighed again, looking at the water and watching Shintaro's
stone skip nearly twice as far as his best had. He gritted his teeth,
gripping his knees to his chest. He hated to lose at anything, no
matter how insignificant. "Don't worry about it." His voice sounded
brittle to his own ears so he added, "I'm not mad at you." Rubbing his
chilled arms, he bit back his anger, trying to calm himself with a
deep breath. He could never fully extinguish it, though. It always
seemed to build, layer upon layer, until he could no longer stand
anyone's presence. He knew that he had the right to be indignant, or
at least he hoped he did.

"Okay," Shintaro replied cheerfully, standing. "Don't be mad but
dad said that if you don't come this time..."

"I know," he interrupted. "I won't make him mad like that again. I
promise, I won't miss any more." The last time that his parents were
getting together with their friends, he had refused to go. His father
was incredibly angry and his anger had vented on Shintaro too. He
might not have liked his little brother much, but he certainly did not
want him to be punished when he, himself, made the mistake.

"Thanks," his brother replied solemnly. "I'll go now."

"You can stay," he offered, turning to the boy whose hair was a
mess as he squirmed with discomfort underneath his thick clothes.

"Nah, I gotta get ready," his brother said to him, a little less
than convincing. "I'll see ya around though."

"Sure," he muttered, facing straight ahead once more. "Whatever."
His brother scurried away as if he forced the boy to stay there
against his will. He clenched his teeth again, feeling truly alone.

* * *

Warm water gushed from the gleaming metal faucet, slowly filling
large bathtub. Kimiko submerged her right hand into the flowing stream
of water, testing the temperature. She withdrew it slowly, watching
large drops of water slide down her hand and fall back into the tub.
Quickly shaking her wrist over the water, she stood and walked over to
the shower. The icy water hit her full on, but she clenched her teeth
and forced herself to submerge in it. Shivering, she picked up the bar
of soap and started scrubbing, eager to be in the warmth of the tub.

Twisting the knob, she shivered uncomfortably as the spray of ice
water withered and died. Walking over to the tub, she stepped in and
lowered herself in. The waves of warmth were pure pleasure, and she
sighed with relief. Closing her eyes wearily, she began to relax in
the hot water.

Her dreams had been particularly rough the last night, and she
wondered if she would have been better off skipping sleep all
together. Mental exhaustion was almost as bad and sometimes worse than
physical exhaustion. Sinking lower till the water covered her ears,
Kimiko yawned.

Relaxing, she slid until her head submerged underneath the gentle
waves of the bath. She opened her mouth, spilling the oxygen from her
lungs, watching them rise and bubble to the surface. Under the clear
bath water, it seemed almost serene and strangely haunting. The light
from the window shown down upon her, but its image was less vibrant,
its color filtered. Reality there was different, even though it was no
more than a foot of distance away.

The light steadily grew in intensity until she was forced to close
her eyes and puncture the peace she felt below the water's surface.
Her lids opened momentarily and she reeled back in surprise, striking
her head on the bottom of the tub.

"It is good to see you again, Kimiko," the pleasant voice greeted
from above the water's surface. Too stunned to reply, she only stared
in silence as the spirit continued. "You do not seem so happy to see
me."

The wet, torn silks worn by the specter across from Kimiko barely
covered her entire figure. Her messy, long black hair dangled past her
ear, brushing the surface of the water, and her dazzling green eyes
shined with unnatural light. Her pallid skin almost took a bluish
tinge upon closer examination, but not dark enough to casually notice.
A white aura glowed faintly around the ghost, and she smiled placidly.
Goose bumps rose on Kimiko's skin as she beheld the specter hovering
over her.

After a few more moments of silence passed, Kimiko instinctively
took a breath of the water, and her lungs mysteriously filled with
air. She paid little attention and spoke anyway. "I didn't think you
were real." Her voice carried to its receiver, still sounding doubtful
of the ghost's existence. The drip of the faucet echoed across the
bathroom, and faint morning light illuminated the room, but no noise
intruded upon their conversation. It was as if time stood still for
them to talk.

"I am real enough," Lilly replied solemnly, staring back serenely.
"I'm much more than a figment of your imagination." Breathing heavily,
Kimiko only nodded in reply. Her heart thumped so loud that she could
swear that the people outside could hear her.

"How do I know that you're real?" she asked, reaching her hand out
to the spirit.

Reaching across, the specter put her warm hand against Kimiko's
and whispered, "Would you rather believe that you are crazy, or that
you are perfectly fine and that you have a guardian spirit?"

Retreating her hand to her side, Kimiko replied, "The second one."

"Good, love," the ghost whispered, smiling eerily. "I have just
come to warn you, nothing more, nothing less." Her brilliant green
eyes shimmered brightly, and she turned towards the entrance of the
bathroom. "I have very little time, so listen carefully. You will be
challenged three times, by three different forces, each whom have a
quarrel with you. Whether imagined or real, it does not matter. Treat
them as real threats, or your life may end in this place you call
home. Do you understand?"

"Who is-" Kimiko began, but Lilly interjected.

"Do you understand?"

Silently, Kimiko nodded.

"Good, very good," she replied. "I must go now, so remember to
never let your guard down, for a friend or even a family member."

The sound of the door to the inner bath opening filtered through
the water, and Lily instantly vanished, revealing the interior
ceiling. Kimiko drew in a startled breath, but only sucked in water.
She instantly sat, sputtering water and coughing violently. She was
only vaguely aware of Mayako entering the room.

"Are you all right?" the girl asked, walking to her side. "Swallow
some bath water?" She smiled warmly then walked over to the shower,
turning it on.

"I'm okay," Kimiko replied, straightening herself. She coughed
once more, clearing her throat. Lily words burned in her mind, her
last message before Mayako's entry more so than the rest. Why would
she say such a thing, she wondered sadly. Here she was, returned to
this place after nearly twenty years and she was not supposed to let
her guard down. Could Mayako be the one of the three Lily warned her
about? She wondered distastefully, but that was unlikely. Could she
even trust the advice itself, or even its source?

Kimiko turned in time to see Mayako stick her tongue out at her.
She smiled. Mayako was trustworthy enough. Before Kimiko could return
her attention to soaking, the shower turned off. Mayako walked over,
putting one foot in the tub. "Oh, it feels good." Kimiko nodded. "So,
what are your plans for today?"

* * *

With his eyes intently planted on the back of his father's head,
he silently followed his family as they wended their way to the Tendou
household, the last place he wanted to be. The many memories of that
place resurfaced, each burning as harshly in his mind as the ice cold
wind burned the exposed flesh of his arms. From the moment he started
martial arts there with the other students, to the day he stopped
taking lessons at the dojo, not one of them was friendly to him, all
jealous of his ability no doubt.

He had been an apt student, and Aunt Akane, the Onos and the two
masters of the school trained him more than the others. Many probably
figured it was because his father was one of the masters, but he knew
otherwise. He was to be the heir of the Saotome style of Anything Goes
Martial Arts, and his teachers, especially his father, wanted him to
strive harder than the rest, harder than anyone had before him against
some unknown standard. Not a single waking moment had been his alone,
and every sleeping hour was spent resting from some horribly
exhausting and painful training exercise.

Somewhere he had heard the phrase, "That which does not kill you
will only make you stronger." He guessed that held true, but he
pondered what the cost of living by such a standard was, for that was
exactly what his father exacted upon him. Was he, then, the result of
such a lifestyle? If so, he advised against even considering such a
course of action, for he knew that his father royally fucked him up.

He knew over fourteen styles and variations of martial arts, he
acquired six different black belts which included a fifth degree in
the Anything Goes style, and yet he had absolutely no friends. Even
his own brother feared him. He guessed that it was probably best left
that way. He did not want friends. Friends held you back. Friends were
nothing but liabilities in the face of the Art. Nothing but victory
mattered, and that he knew, and that he had been taught.

The problem with friends was that you were supposed to like them.
How could he like someone he may have had to fight sometime in the
near future? You simply cannot pull your punches for anyone. Never,
ever pull punches. If you do, then you give them an edge, he reasoned
to himself. The line between friends and enemies was too fine to
discern for. His father's teachings drilled that into his mind.

There was no time, no place for them either. Who needed them
anyway? The answer: he did. He needed them more than he needed water.
He needed someone to pour out his heart to, he needed someone to hang
out with when it rained, and most of all he needed someone to back him
up, be by his side, inspire him, and everything else a friend was
supposed to do.

Oh, but no, friends betray, friends stab you while your back is
turned, and the hurt of the loss was too deep to risk. You cannot take
chances like that. When no one's at your back, no one can stab it, no
one can betray you. If there is no one, you have to worry about no
one. Blanketing his eyes with this philosophy, he tried to live life
normally, but when you hated everyone and everyone hated you, it was
not easy.

Oh, he had a friend once. He was fun to be with; he said they
would be friends forever. Then he left. He left without saying good-
bye, and that hurt worse than anything father ever did to him. That
hurt worse than the rocks, that hurt worse than the fire, and those
hurt a lot, especially the fire. He hated fire. Fire hurts, burns and
scars.

But no one would listen to him, not him, the boy who no one liked,
the troublemaker, and the misfit. No one liked him and no one cared if
he lived or died. So then, why should he care if they lived either?

His gaze then trained on the back of his mother's head. Where was
she when he needed her? Where was she when he cried and cried, wailing
for her to come to his rescue? Oh, where was she when the fire burned
him, when the rocks slammed into his adolescent body? The answer:
turning a blind eye. She ignored him, let his father do those things,
oh, and she continued to let him. She wanted a manly son, a superior
being, one who was more god than man. She wanted him to be the best,
to win, never fail. No, never that. You can never fail. Failure was
pain; failure was death.

He hated her more than his father, almost as much as fire. She
could have stopped it, but she did not. It was not abuse; it was
training. Why should she stop his training? It was working, was it
not? He excelled in the Arts. He had straight A's in school. Nothing
and no one could stop him from any goal. Why should he complain? Why
should she interject herself where she was not needed?

Shivering with dormant rage and with the cold alike, he looked
between his parents, his supposed caretakers, his would-be
benefactors. They walked identically, not in unison, but in stature.
His father walked with pride and happiness, in fact, he practically
glowed with it. His mother strode down the walk gracefully, with that
same pride, that same happiness, that same joy. Why should they, of
all people, be happy? Were they not ashamed of what their eldest son
had become, their creation, their Frankenstein monster? Those were the
words that his father had used the day before, the week before, and
the year before. He had said he was so ashamed to be cursed with such
a son, such a disrespectful, uncouth youth. The power behind those
words, though denied, stung deeply.

"What is she like?" he overheard his mother say as she quietly
spoke with his father. They may have thought no one could hear, but he
was not just anyone. Years of intense meditation made his hearing more
acute than even the visually impaired.

"She's amazing," his father replied, his voice hoarse with
excitement. "Soun said she fought with skill he had not seen in ages,
and he would not exaggerate concerning such delicate matters."

"And you think that she's his?" His mother's voice sounded hopeful
and happy, though she normally took the most shocking news calmly,
without any betrayal of emotion.

"We do believe that she may be his daughter," his father answered,
putting his arm over her shoulder to plant a kiss on her cheek. He
almost skipped a step watching that event take place. Rarely did they
ever show emotion for one another, and never in public.

"God must have heard my prayers," she whispered in his father's
ear.

Their words circulated in his mind, repeating endlessly, trying to
extract order from chaos. He hissed inaudibly, unable to decipher
their conversation. They spoke of a woman, most likely a girl since
she was someone's daughter that they knew. His father spoke of her
skills, which he obviously knew to be in the realm of martial arts --
his father would not speak of this girl if it did not pertain to it.
Though he knew the hatred he felt for his father was mutual, he
wondered if the man would take on another student, one who might
replace him as the heir to the Saotome School of Anything Goes.

Never before had his heritage been challenged, since Shintaro was
his only other competitor for the title, and he had absolutely no
worries there. Shintaro completely lacked any ambition what so ever,
and his natural ability was average at best. The man had no right to
do this to him after all the torture he endured for the position.

He truly wondered if this girl had the skills to stand up to him
in real combat. A challenge would certainly fix his ever-sinking mood
for the present. Not only from the fight, he would gain much pleasure
by seeing his father's plans ruined, schemes against his eldest son,
his only true prodigy.

They were silent from that point on, and so he decided to study
the boy who strode next to him. His brother looked like a version of
himself at that age, though the boy's hair was slightly longer than
his. There was no need for long hair. It simply got in the way when
you needed to see, and became a disadvantage if an enemy were to latch
onto it.

"Mother?" Shintaro asked as the boy glanced over at him.

"Yes, son?" His mother's voice still radiated the joy it had
earlier.

"Can I stand between you and father?" His brother's voice sounded
weak, fearful, and it almost came out as a squeak.

"Sure you can," she replied, moving over to the side. His father
turned for an instant, and they locked stares before he turned to his
younger son and patted him on the head.

He almost roared with laughter after that. His brother was just
scared standing next to him. Oh, the irony.

* * *

A deep rumble of thunder resounded across the valley's walls as a
cold north wind wailed. Black clouds gathered overhead, flashing with
streaks of lightning. Hard leather boots trampled over the ground,
uncaring of their path, or their destination. As people ran for
shelter, one man continued with melancholy determination, tearing his
way through anything and anyone who stood in his path.

His cold, lifeless eyes stared towards the horizon, ever watching
and waiting for something. What, he did not know, but he did know that
something was out there, and he needed to find it, before it found
him. Another flash of lightning lit the sky, but he ignored it,
stomping ever forward towards his imaginary destination. One day he
would find it, and on that day he would stop his meaningless search.
On that day his life would be filled again.

Morning light should have shown down upon him, but in the ever-
changing world, only coldness and water would fall upon his tired,
dusty brow. Traveling, in the old days, was unintentional, but now it
was his only release. The maddening call for blood did not burden him
here, in this ancient, vast land. He never stopped to ask questions,
but rather, he just existed, to be here one moment, and there the
next. To settle down, he would have to stand up to his demons, which
he could no longer even name. The memory of them had escaped his mind
long, long ago -- a second to God was an eternity for man.

The rain began then, first as a light shower, then as the storm he
knew it would amount to, winds roaring, lightning crashing and rain
pouring. It amounted to little, in the grand face of things, and it
mattered not to him in the slightest anyway. If he could defeat the
greatest martial artists in the world, what then, was a little storm
that could hardly be considered anything compared to him?

In the next moment, his heart skipped a beat and he spun on his
heels, prepared for an attack, and yet, the streets as far as he could
see were empty. He almost turned to continue his journey, but the
nagging feeling he experienced made him dodge hard to his left. Where
he had stood, a large fist ripped through the space. There was
absolutely no time to size up his opponent, for it attacked him again.

The speed his attacker utilized was admirable, but fell short of
being effective in comparison with his sheer skill. Blocking the
figure's attacks proved less effective, though, as he realized its
strength. A flash of light revealed his attacker, and his eyes
narrowed in anger. He should have known this particular bastard would
not give up after one fight.

"What's wrong, maggot?" he taunted as his fist connected with his
opponent's face. "I already gave you my answer, even though you lost
in the first place." He followed that with a nasty combination of
punches, but his target vanished, reappearing above him. He rolled to
the side, frantically avoiding the aerial attack.

"I don't believe you," a cynical voice replied, though it was more
of a feral growl than speech. "Stop hiding him!" Flipping to the side,
he narrowly dodged his opponent's following attack.

"What do you think-" he began, tearing through thin air as his
opponent became airborne again. "-could possibly motivate me to hide
the old demon?" He ducked under the swoop as another flash of
electricity illuminated his opponent's enraged form. "He could be dead
for all I know."

"You're lying!" it roared back, attacking viciously. "I don't know
what you did with him, but you'll tell me now!" He dodged its assault
and landed a nasty kick on its left leg, crippling it. Its cry of pain
reverberated throughout the village. He doubted if any of the
villagers would investigate the noise, but rather dismiss it as the
howling of the spirits.

"I'll tell you one more time," he yelled, straining to be heard
through the fierce wind. "I don't know where the hell he is, and I
haven't seen him for over fifteen years!"

He could hear its strangled panting and knew he already won the
fight. Yet, it continued its resistance. "You lie." It's voice sounded
no more than a hoarse whisper, but he knew that it would never admit
defeat.

"Farewell," he laughed back at it. "We'll probably meet again."

Its reply was cut off by the storm.

* * *

Pushing her right hand through the sleeve of her gray silk blouse,
Kimiko watched Mayako rush out the bathroom door. Her swift bath
showed her eagerness to leave, but Kimiko had little idea why that
could be. She almost felt like a leper, the way her friend quickly
left her presence, but she could not be the reason. Shaking her head
as she rolled the cuffs of her long sleeves, she continued dressing
without thought. Having become so used to them, she quickly slipped
into the knee-length, navy blue skirt. Girls here, or at least those
she had seen so far, seemed partial to skirts now, even in the United
States. Only when it was required did they ever wear pants, but in
Mayako and her case, whenever they could not wear skirts, they would
wear pants, which was almost always. Tomboys, she silently jeered,
shaking her head.

It was not such a big deal, now that she thought about it.
Unfortunately, the fact that it did not bother her anymore scared her
some, too. Acceptance did not require pleasure. So far, it had not
come to that, but she feared it was not far off from now. The last
thing she wanted was to lose her original identity, she thought,
almost laughing at the irony of the word original. Ranma might be
subdued, but she had yet to completely give up on him. Out there,
somewhere, a cure surely existed. Finding it was the main problem, and
finding it in time further complicated the matter.

But now, she needed to concentrate on other matters, or more
precisely, the Tendous and Saotomes. If she revealed her identity,
there was no telling what could happen. Would they accept her, or
would they cast her out? Acceptance seemed highly unlikely since she
disappeared without word nearly twenty years ago. She had to admit
that it did look pretty bad on her part. Kiyoshi would back her story
of course, and if she revealed a few facts that only she could
possibly know, they might believe her, especially considering her
current physical condition, young. Only then another problem would
arise. She almost would surely scare off her new friends. That,
combined with not being able to marry Akane, or even having any other
type of relationship with the older woman, made it seem like a very
poor choice.

To be Ranma, or not to be Ranma, that was the question. She
buttoned the blouse to the top and tucked it into her skirt. Kiyoshi
would be taking her out of this place soon, and she figured it could
not hurt if she wore her mask a little longer. At least this way, she
still had friends who did not consider her a freak of nature, and she
could still see Akane without bringing the past slamming into her
present. Sometimes, the past was best left in the past, and that
sometime was probably now. Too bad it hurt so much.

Looking into the mirror, she straightened her crimson hair,
pulling it back into a ponytail and tying it with a small red ribbon.
Sighing lightly, she pushed her belongings from the sink's counter and
into a large duffel bag she had brought from her room. She paused a
moment, then carried it into the outer bath, leaving it in a corner.
Noise from the living room echoed into the bathroom, and she curiously
walked out to investigate.

Silently, she crossed the hall and walked through the house until
she stopped at the stairs. The door was ajar and she heard noise
outside, but left up the stairs, hesitant about prying into anyone's
business. She was about to knock on the door to Mayako's room when it
opened, revealing Mayako.

"Hey," she greeted, walking towards the stairs as Kimiko moved
aside. "Come on and I'll introduce you." Kimiko stood there for a
moment, pondering Mayako's words when the girl turned and grabbed her
hand. "They won't bite!"

"Who-?" Kimiko blurted as her friend pulled her, dashing towards
the stairs.

"You'll see!" Mayako replied, literally jumping down the last
section of the stairs. Kimiko had an instant to react, but she managed
to land safely without crashing into Mayako.

The girl's abrupt halt had a reason, and he stood in front of
them, larger than life. The fact that he looked exactly the same
struck Kimiko as very odd, considering he was probably forty-five
years old now. His benevolent smile reached his eyes through even
through the thick-rimmed frames she remembered him wearing. He still
wore his light brown hair in a small ponytail though lightly brushed
with gray, and even his attire was relatively similar to the outfits
he wore back when. One of his hands was on Mayako's shoulder, the
other casually placed behind his back.

"You should really be careful on stairs, Maya-chan," he gently
scolded, smiling broader. "Especially when you're dragging friends
behind you."

Giggling, Mayako leaned closer and hugged Dr. Tofu, whispering,
"It's nice to see you too, Uncle Tofu."

Kimiko gulped, inching back from the two. She silently scolded
herself for the fear. Why should she fear Dr. Tofu? The man certainly
could not be one of the three Lily warned her about, and he would
definitely not cause her harm. She struck the last from her list; he
could identify her.

"It's been a while since you've visited me at the clinic, so you
must be well," he told her, patting Mayako's back.

"I'm fine," she replied, pulling out of the hug. She then turned
to Kimiko. "Kimiko, this is my dear Uncle, Tofu Ono. Uncle, this is
Kimiko Nishiyama." He bowed forty-five degrees, and she bowed lower,
nearly gritting her teeth.

"It's nice to meet you, Nishiyama-san," he greeted, which she
returned. When he blinked, and readjusted his frames on his face, she
weakly smiled. "My, you look awfully familiar. Have I met either of
your parents?"

Oh yes, she thought dryly, and you've met me before too. "You may
have, Ono-san." Oh, the lies and half-truths, and how simple they
flowed from her mouth.

He peered at her quizzically for a moment, but then fell into his
happy, careless demeanor again. The answer must have satisfied him,
for he bid them farewell and walked into the living room. Sighing with
relief, she watched his back until he disappeared from sight.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the Onos," Mayako proposed,
taking Kimiko's right hand. The honest joy radiating from the girl
even made the redhead smile, but as they pushed through the front
door, Kimiko inhaled sharply.

Shaking her head with a light chuckle, Akane stood on the brick
walk happily talking with Shampoo. Akane's long black hair had been
bound with a thin cotton string, swaying with the movement of her
head. Her casual smile filled Kimiko with warmth, and her eyes
reflected the morning sun's light. The end of her soft yellow dress
ruffled with the chill wind, but she showed no signs of discomfort,
though the matching jacket she wore was thin enough to see through.

Across from Akane, Shampoo stood with her arms crossed, smiling
warmly. Her beautiful purple hair was curled in a bun while her long
side burns splashed each side of her head. She wore a thick, red
sweater and a long, black skirt that reached past her ankles. She
nodded slowly, replying to something Akane had said.

Mayako reached the pair of women in the next moment with Kimiko in
tow, and waited until the two turned to face them, rather than rudely
interjecting herself. Their gaze was enough to make Kimiko gulp with
anxiety.

"Auntie Shampoo," Mayako said, addressing the violet haired woman
with respectful tones. "I would like you to meet Kimiko Nishiyama."

Shampoo's benevolent eyes adjusted themselves upon the redhead,
widening slightly, her lips curling into a thoughtful frown. There was
less than a moment's pause before Kimiko bowed, whispering her
greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Nishiyama-san," the woman replied with a
slight bow. "I am Shampoo Ono." Her voice had matured as well as her
manners since their last meeting, but that was entirely unavoidable
considering the amount of time spent in between now and then.

The adult's attention immediately returned to their conversation,
which they carried with them into the house. Reiko and two others,
hidden in the shadows of gate, conversed with openly argumentative
tones.

"I'm not always late!" a male voice protested.

"Yes you are, baka!" Mai insisted, loud enough for Kimiko to
recognize the voice. "If Mother and Father hadn't woken you, you'd
still be in bed!"

"So?" Ryosei Ono, Mai's brother, hissed, putting his hands behind
his head. "I happen to enjoy my vacations, thank you very much." His
next step fell short of its place, nearly causing him to trip over
himself. He regained his composure, peering at Kimiko.

"Hello, Ryosei," Mayako coolly greeted, sinuously approaching him.
"Looking as unattractive as ever, I see." Her insult was off base, for
he actually was a rather handsome young man, if not pretty. Between
his pretty face, brown ponytail and long bangs, curling inwards to
hang in his eyes, at first glance Kimiko almost thought he was a she,
but yesterday she had quickly distinguished his gender by his muscular
upper body and his easily discernible male voice. The gi top he wore
did nothing to conceal his corded biceps, but his baggy trousers
concealed his leg muscles, which were probably just as impressive. He
had already thrown his jacket over his shoulder.

"Good day, Mayako-san," he replied just as coolly as he walked up
to her. "I see you still appear to be a man at first, and second
look."

Kimiko honestly expected Mayako to attack the impudent male on the
spot, though his remark was just as crude as hers. To her utter
amazement though, the boy and the girl both laughed. Pulling him into
a hug, Mayako probably squeezed the breath out of Ryosei, though he
too probably hugged her harder than required. A show of strength
between warriors, Kimiko supposed.

The young man withdrew from her embrace with a smile, and turned
his eye to the redhead. "And so we meet again, my dazzling star." If
the day could have held any more surprises, it certainly could hold
nothing more unexpected than the moment he fell to his knees, lifted
her hand gently and slowly kissed it. He released her hand. "If
anything awoke me so suddenly today, it would be for our meeting on
this cold morning."

"I guess," she replied, crossing her arms under her breasts. "It's
nice to see you're still alive." Mai already had walked around them
and was on her way with Mayako, strolling toward the house. Reiko
still stood behind Ryosei, politely waiting.

He laughed, turning to Reiko, but addressed both girls. "Let's
head in and get some breakfast."

When Kimiko turned, Ryosei politely hooked his arm around hers.
When she turned to protest, she saw Reiko being escorted on his left.
With a sigh, she shook her head as they entered the household.

* * *

"You would have been well advised to bring your coat as I told
you, son," Genma coldly told his eldest child.

"I'm not cold," Rintaro shot back, fighting hard to control his
shivering. Unfortunately for the boy, his skin betrayed him with goose
bumps. "Concentrate on walking, or you might fall down." The unspoken
insult "old man" did not even need to be spoken.

The morning's weather had been painfully cold to him, and he wore
a thick jacket, as did his wife and youngest. Genma did not
particularly like the long walk from his home to the Tendou's, but he
did need to exercise now and again, and his wife certainly was in good
enough shape to keep pace. He glanced back to his eldest again, before
contentedly increasing their pace.

"Are we almost there, Poppa?" Shintaro asked impatiently,
squeezing Genma's hand.

"Yes, son," he replied. "There is only one block left."

The boy squealed with delight, and whispered, "I can't wait to see
Eiji again." Genma smiled down at the child, wishing he could begin
again with the young man calmly walking behind them.

"Are we almost there?" Rintaro mockingly asked, drawing close. "I
just cannot wait to see all of my most wonderful friends." The venom
laced with sarcasm almost caused Genma to turn and scold the boy, but
he kept his calm.

"If you are so impatient, Rintaro, than why don't you run on
ahead? I'm sure everyone will be just as delighted to see you too." He
spared his eldest a half glance.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that, Father," the young man said,
walking around them. He put his arm on Nodoka's shoulder briefly, and
after she nodded, he sped into a full run, turning the corner.
"I fear, not for the boy's manners, but of his intentions, dear,"
his wife calmly told him, too calmly.

"Yes, love," he replied. "But I doubt he'll upset the party." His
wife looked at him, raising her right eyebrow. He shrugged helplessly
and returned her look. "Much."

* * *

Only the howling wind greeted him as he pushed the gate to the
Tendou's residence. He crossed the red bricks sprinting only to stop
and knock on the front door. Pausing for only a couple seconds, he
turned the knob and nudged it open. Ryosei and Reiko turned to face
him as he entered. He smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets as
he walked through the door into the foyer of the house.

Ryosei's black pants rippled with the frosty wind as he held the
door open for the young man entering. "Hello, Rintaro." The coolly
bitter greeting rang pleasant in Rintaro's ears as he recognized the
disappointment hidden within it. The boy's eyes were fire, fueled with
resentment, dislike and maybe even jealousy. The two young men might
have once considered each other allies, but now they were hardly even
that.

"Ryosei," he indifferently acknowledged, nod. "Greetings, Reiko."

"Hi," she replied sweetly. Her brown hair was not bound behind her
head as he remembered her wearing it, but rather it fell across her
shoulders and back. She was one of the few individuals who could stand
his presence, and vice-versa.

"We missed you last time," Ryosei lied, closing the door behind
the dark-haired youth. Rintaro turned to face him, a very light smirk
growing on his face. He figured that Ryosei truly despised him.
"Where's your family?"

"They're several blocks behind me," he replied, standing in the
foyer without any intention of making the first move. He looked at the
pony-tailed boy for a moment, and then passed his gaze to Reiko. She
folded under his gaze, and turned to Ryosei. He also turned to him,
addressing him. "Did Tofu-sensei come with you this time?" Dr. Tofu
was a strange man, but he was an incredibly talented martial artist
with more knowledge than anyone else Rintaro knew. Talking shop with
him was tolerable, if not enjoyable.

"Yes, my father is with us," the brunette boy answered, a bit of
acid resonating in his voice. Ryosei was probably jealous of Rintaro's
friendship with his father. "He's in the living room if you wish to
see him."

"Thanks," he whispered. Sensing the subtle demand for his
departure, he walked past them and into the hall. Rintaro had barely
even crossed into the hall when he overheard something that turned his
smirk into a wide grin.

"There goes the party," Ryosei whispered to Reiko.

"Ryosei!" Reiko scolded, but all further comments on her part were
muted as he approached the living room.

Nearly crashing into him as he rounded the corner to the living
room, little Eiji burst past him, running at his top speed to avoid
capture. The person that followed was not as fortunate and ran
straight into Rintaro. Reacting on instinct, Rintaro knocked the
figure aside, barely stabilizing himself in the process. Kenichi
expelled a pained grunt as he fell onto the floorboards. Rintaro
looked down at the Tendou boy, realizing a moment later that he could
have seriously hurt him, but the thought quickly passed.

"You might want to watch where you're going," he told the fallen
youth smugly, standing over him. Kenichi's eyes narrowed as Rintaro
held out his hand to help him up.

"No thanks," Kenichi told him, standing. The boy's eyes held less
dislike for him than Ryosei's, though how much less, Rintaro did not
know. "How come you missed last time? Scared of our rematch?" He
smiled slightly at this, for they both knew that he would almost never
be a match for Rintaro.

"Of course, mighty Kenichi Tendou," Rintaro replied sarcastically.
"I had decided that of all the reasons for me not to show, your
rematch was enough." If anyone was a good sport about losing, Kenichi
would be the one. He at least tried to make an effort to be civil; not
that Rintaro returned it.

"I better go catch the rug rat before he thinks he got away from
me," Kenichi said, excusing himself. "He'd never shut up about it
then." Rintaro nodded, walking past the other into the living room.

The familiar scene of a casual Tendou morning laid spread out
before him, and as he entered, he tried to stifle a yawn. Three
figures sat around the shoji board, Tofu Ono, Master Soun and a girl
with long, bright red hair who had her back to him. A crash from the
kitchen indicated that Shampoo Ono was embarking on their hopeless,
bimonthly journey to teach Aunt Akane to cook more than rice without
utterly ruining the dish. He shook his head, regretfully remembering
the last item she managed to prepare. Its incredibly bitter taste
still lingered in his memory. Thank God for take out, he mused to
himself.

Drawing closer to get a better view of the redheaded newcomer, he
wondered if this was the person his father had spoken about earlier.
Less than ten feet stood between them, and not one of the shoji
players noticed him approach. The redhead did not seem out of the
ordinary in any way, besides her abnormally crimson hair, and she
looked a little too small to even be considered for training under any
proficient masters.

With a silent, deep breath, he began to focus his eyes to ease
past the physical plane and into the spiritual one. Any artist worth
paying attention to would at least glow in the blackness that he drew
to himself, and a chi master would burn like a red coal in the
darkness. This separated the strong from the weak, the believers from
the heretics, and the true fighters from the talkers.

She shone like a brilliant star, her distant light growing
increasingly brighter the closer his chi came to hers. He was forced
to close his eyes then, as the illumination of her life energy
suddenly leaped towards him. He could smell her, the sweet perfume of
soap; he could feel her, tender flesh pressed up against him; and he
could taste every inch of her, a bead of sweat on her forehead and day
old, dried tears on her cheek. From within her depths, energy stronger
than any he had faced before pulled his entire essence from his body,
and he was helpless as it drew him in.

Suddenly dislocated from his body on the prime material plane, he
tried to cry out in pain as he was torn asunder. Agony shook his
existence as the energy pulled; he had no chance to fight back.
Madness shone from his eyes, memories from childhood driving him
backwards into the depths of his abyss, the silent, sightless hell he
created for himself after being sent into unconsciousness from his
father's endless training. He cackled, realizing that this was the
end, eternity in the one place he thought to hide once, without
thinking that he could be trapped here permanently. Silence could be
worse than the agony at times, but there had always been a balance
before.

Just as despair began to overwhelm his sanity completely, a
calming hand rippled through him, holding his deafening thoughts at
bay. Like water to a dehydrated man, he welcomed the flush of
pleasure. His captor held him in limbo, examining every inch of his
soul.

Words echoed into him then. "Reach not where you do not belong,
young one." A pale face broke the inky blackness of his prison and
peered at him. Its bright white eyes bore through him, and its lips
moved, creating more sound. "Remember that the next time you attempt
to bind my host's essence with yours. Your existence ends the moment
the consideration crosses your mind."

With that, reality violently crashed into him, and he reeled,
barely holding his essence from shattering. A horrible tearing
sensation that felt as if someone was trying to suck out his guts with
a high-powered vacuum returned to his body. His pain vanished, the
pleasure faded and sight lit his eyes.

Jarring awake as if he had been standing comatose, Rintaro jumped
forward, barely catching himself from tripping and falling onto the
redhead he had been watching moments before.

Laughter rippled behind him, just as Soun and Dr. Tofu chuckled
from his front. The girl twisted at the waist to look at him, the hint
of a smile forming on her face. Rintaro spun to glare at his
assailant, but his anger slipping when he saw that his Aunt had
sneaked up on him.

"A little bit jumpy today, Rin-chan?" Akane asked before drawing
him into a hug. Rintaro absolutely despised the nickname she gave him
as a child, but he always ignored it, for she was one of the few that
actually liked him. If someone else even whispered it near him though,
he would pound the living daylights out of them.

"I was just admiring the sunny, warm day outside, Aunt Akane," he
sarcastically whispered as his senses fully returned to him, though he
still focused on what had happened. Was his experience merely a
vision, he wondered, or was it as he felt it had been? For that
matter, what did he feel that it had been? He decided to sort his
thoughts later.

Akane released him and smiled, her hands still remaining on his
shoulders. She gently spun him around and whispered, "Introduce
yourself, silly."

The redheaded girl stood before him nervously, straightening her
navy blue skirt. He was tempted to let his eyes linger upon her well-
endowed chest hidden within the close-fitting gray blouse, but his
manners kicked in and he bowed.

"I am Rintaro Saotome," he said, introducing himself. Her face
seemed to whiten the moment he spoke his name, though nothing else
affected her visibly.

"I am Kimiko Nishiyama," she replied, and as she bowed, her loose
red hair fell from behind her ears and over her shoulders. By the time
she righted herself, the color had returned to her face. "It's a
pleasure to meet you, Saotome-san."

"Likewise, Nishiyama-san," he returned with a nod. For the first
time, he took in her appearance deeply. By her hair color, he figured
her to be a Joketsuzoku Amazon in light of Shampoo's heritage and
unnatural hair color. His first idea might have been might have been a
wild guess, but her facial features further reinforced that idea,
because she appeared vaguely Chinese. He had seen some amazons from
Shampoo's village before, for some of youths who ended up having to
travel to Japan seemed to make a pilgrimage to the middle-aged woman
when they were in the Tokyo area. Half could barely speak Japanese,
while the rest had heavy accents, or at least some recognizable flaws
in their speech. Kimiko had none from the little he heard her speak.

"What brings you to our gathering, if I may ask, Nishiyama-san?"
He resisted the urge to clench his teeth and scream. Why had it not
occurred to him sooner? Kimiko Nishiyama was definitely a Japanese
name, though she did not look like a native. If he did not pay more
attention...he let that thought slide.

"Kenichi-san and Mayako-san invited me," she half whispered,
hanging her head as if suddenly finding the wooden floorboards
interesting.

"Soun!" Dr. Tofu admonished, replacing a shoji piece to its proper
position. "You know better than to cheat against people other than
Saotome-san." The lopsided grin on his face broke the effect of his
berating. Kimiko turned to face the board again and quickly sat to
guard the rest of her pieces. Rintaro assumed this was the ending of
that short-lived conversation.

Master Soun chuckled. "Habit," he admitted, replacing a few other
pieces he had stashed up the sleeve of his gi shirt. "I don't need to
cheat to win this match."

"We'll see," Kimiko replied, moving a piece and extracting a low
moan from Soun.

Turning from their game, Rintaro slid open the door to the back
and exited the house. He needed to think alone.

* * *

The steady beep of the machine echoed in Masami's ears as he sat
in the corner of his friend Michio's hospital room. Shadows seemed to
gather around the boy, though the lights were on. Three teenagers,
about ten feet from where Masami sat, stood over the sleeping, injured
boy, their words filled with outrage and contempt. They had every
right to it though, especially after yesterday's embarrassing defeat.

Out of the four of them who had fought the red-headed demon, he
had suffered the least, simply being knocked unconscious when his head
collided with the ground one too many times. The others had been
beaten before that point. Seiko remained in fairly good condition,
though she had a few broken ribs and torn pride. Michio obviously took
the brunt of the redhead's attack, landing himself a broken leg. Shoji
was in the room across the hall with numerous fractures and abrasions,
but no one wanted to talk to him after yesterday's events. He was far
too irritable today.

Seiko leaned up against the wall next to the head of Michio's bed.
The other two young men in the room were Jotaro Saito, Michio's older
brother, and Kojiro Yoneda. Jotaro was the eldest member of their
group and definitely the strongest. He stood nearly a foot taller than
even Shoji, their leader, and he was about six feet tall. He could
have been Michio's clone, if not for the height difference of about a
half-foot. Unlike his younger brother though, Jotaro was even-tempered
and wiser than his years, and yet he vehemently turned down the
position of leader when they first offered it to him. Perhaps that was
more of a wise decision than Michio thought.

Kojiro Yoneda had only gritted his teeth when Seiko had furiously
related the story to him. He would constantly push his slim fingers
through his spiked, bleached hair, and his eyes consistently danced
from member to member as if one planned to stab his back. His dismal,
black apparel suited him well, for the boy was a total downer when it
came to conversations. He kept his responses brief and to the point,
even when the others expected more out of him. For once, he actually
stood over Michio's prone body, giggling at the strange position the
doctors had set his leg to occupy.

The two other members of their group, Katsumi Aomizu and Rina
Nomiya, were purposely absent. They had left early in the morning to
find out more about the redhead, Kimiko Nishiyama. Katsumi was
originally told to do it alone, but knowing his close relationship
with Rina, she inevitably followed. Seiko had only scowled when the
two left together; she was not fond of her little sister falling in
love with Katsumi, the weakest member of their group.

A tickling sensation was Masami's only warning before a sneeze
violently shook his body.

"Shit!" Kojiro exclaimed, suddenly alarmed. "God damn it, Masami.
How come you always have to sit in the darkest corner? You were so
silent that I forgot you were there." The bleached blonde placed his
open palm over his chest, taking a deep breath.

"Pay more attention to your surroundings, Kojiro," Seiko berated.
"You won't be caught off guard like that next time."

"If he pays any more attention, his eyes will pop out," Masami
quipped, putting his hands behind his head, sitting far back in his
chair.

"Shut it, all of you," Jotaro told them, his gaze still fixed on
his baby brother. "Tell me again how this Kimiko knocked you into the
brick wall."

Seiko sighed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "How am I
supposed to know how? One moment I was standing there, ready to be hit
and the next it felt like someone tossed me across the alley. I hardly
felt her touch me, and she certainly didn't leave a mark where she
touched." When she finished, she shook her head, rubbing her bruised
cheek.

"Besides the marks up and down your body?" Masami asked with
feigned politeness, grinning wryly.

"That's enough out of you, Masami," Jotaro commanded, glaring at
him. "She handled you pretty easily if what I hear is true."

"She fucking kicked my ass is what she did," he replied. He turned
his head, unwilling to listen to any more talk, but what Jotaro said
next caught his attention.

"Well, I'm guessing she's at least an instructor of whatever art
she practices," Jotaro told the group, frowning. "We know that
Ryosei's a good fighter, and some of his friends are even better, but
not one of them could have taken the four of you like that."
"What about Rintaro Saotome?" Kojiro questioned, honestly
intrigued with the older boy's assumptions.

"He hardly counts," Jotaro answered, rubbing his chin. "He fights
about as much as my mother does simply because no one with any brains
would fight him once, and definitely not twice."

"Um, Jotaro?" The three teens turned to Masami. "Your mother's a
professional wrestler."

"God, shut the fuck up, Masami!" The even-tempered boy seemed
ready to breathe fire over him. "One more word from you and your ass
is grass!" Masami turned his head again, feigning that he did not
care.

"As I was saying," Jotaro continued, turning his attention to the
other two. "Saotome doesn't count because he doesn't join anyone's
side now anyway. Only the Tendous would really help Ryosei out of a
jam, and it would take the three of them to take the four of you.
Seiko's almost a match for Kenichi, though I'm probably the only one
who could possibly take Mayako alone." He massaged his left side in
remembrance of an old wound. "And that bitch is incredibly tough. But
Seiko and Masami could handle her, though they'd probably take a
beating, and the fight would last for a good deal of time."

As Jotaro paused, he looked down at his younger brother. The whole
situation reminded Masami of the first time their group brawled
Rintaro Saotome. Two years ago, Jotaro and company dominated Furinken
and they had only been freshmen at the time. Only Seiko and Jotaro
were the only ones old enough at the time to be in high school, and
Rintaro was the sole member of the opposition there. As it turned out,
Rintaro challenged Jotaro to a fight after school, but Saotome brought
Mayako with him. Masami had thought everything was in order, since he
was only there to act as a witness, as he assumed Mayako to be, but
Rintaro had pretended that he had no idea that there was a fight. He
had said that Jotaro was trying to jump him while he was unaware.

Whatever Rintaro had said next to Jotaro, Masami completely
forgot, but it sparked a fire within the even-tempered boy that he had
never seen before. Enraged, Jotaro attacked blindly and struck Mayako
on accident when Saotome dodged. Immediately, Rintaro and Mayako
attacked. Even when Seiko and Yoshi arrived, though they were not
supposed to, the four of them could not stand up to Rintaro and
Mayako. Yoshi was nearly killed; Jotaro and he had been thrown in
jail, while Seiko escaped before taking any serious hits. Masami shook
his head with disgust. Seiko always managed to escape.

They dominated him and his friends then, and now another one
showed up on the scene to take four with only two. If Rintaro was
still a member of Masami's enemies, there would be no chance to win
their respect back. With only Ryosei, Mayako and Kenichi, they had the
advantage, but now...

"Considering this new girl took Seiko, Masami and Michio all in a
minute or two," Jotaro began, breaking Masami's train of thought. "I'd
say she's easily a master. She might even be able to take Rintaro out
in a one on one, though I once swore that it would be a cold day in
hell when that would happen."

"I'd like to see Saotome beat the shit out of Nishiyama," Seiko
added, promptly yawning. The thought of turning Rintaro to their side,
or at least long enough to beat Nishiyama, sent chills down Masami's
spine.

Jotaro looked at her, his eyebrows slanting in thought. He hummed,
his eyes returning Seiko's questioning stare.

"What is it?" she asked, putting her right hand on his shoulder.
"You've got a plan!" She grinned when he nodded. "Tell us!"

Nodding, Jotaro looked at all of them before speaking. "With this
new girl clobbering us on our own turf, I say push her out, and I know
exactly how to do it." Even Masami stood and drew in close as the
eldest told them his plot.

* * *

Closing her eyes with a deep sigh, Akane leaned against the
kitchen counter, her hands clenching its edge. The wall of patience
she had surrounded herself with had begun to wear thin. She had
managed to cook several meals before, and they had all turned out
quite edible, quite the contrary to the stew she had concocted today.
One sip of the grotesque slime was all that was needed. She did not
even argue when Shampoo dumped it in the trash.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, comforting the struggling
cook. Akane turned to her best friend with a smile, but even she felt
that it was a bit forced. Her eyes sank and she relaxed her grip on
the counter.

"Why does it always turn out like this?" she asked rhetorically,
lifting her hands to stare at them as if they were a curse upon her
femininity. She sagged her shoulders, releasing another heart felt
sigh.

"Well," Shampoo began, pretending to count numerous reasons with
her fingers. Akane grinned, pressing her left hand to her forehead.
Shampoo gently squeezed her shoulder. "You just need to relax, Akane.
Just keep it simple and do it slowly, and you'll get it eventually. I
promise."

Nodding slowly, Akane put her hand on Shampoo's. "I remember
someone telling me once, 'Keep it simple stupid!' Of course, it only
made me more angry and I punched him through the kitchen door!" Akane
and Shampoo chuckled, but suddenly Akane's humor died and her knees
wobbled slightly.

As Akane began to fall, Shampoo caught her and wrapped a steady
arm around the woman's waist. "What's wrong, Akane?" The urgent
concern in her voice woke Akane from her stunned silence.

"I-I...that is..." she began, staring at the floor. She looked at
Shampoo, her eyes pleading. "Ranma told me that." Shampoo looked away,
breathing in deeply. "It was only a week or two before he disappeared.
He was trying to help me cook, and he was actually helping for once,
but..." Her voice trailed off and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's all right to think about him, Akane," the purple-haired
woman told her solemnly. "That's all we have left of him now, anyway.
Memories of a boy that everyone loved so deeply." Shampoo turned to
her then, smiling playfully. "Cheer up. Maybe what he taught you last
will help you cook now."

With a weak nod, the raven-haired woman dreamily stared at
nothing. "Sometimes I think he was only in my dreams, and that I never
really lost him, as if he only existed in my imagination." She turned
back to Shampoo, lowering her eyes. "Then I'd wake up and realize he
really did exist and that I did lose him. We never had a chance to
enjoy what we had."

"Stop talking like that, Akane," Shampoo replied. "How come you're
thinking about him all of a sudden? I thought you came to terms with
this years ago?" When Akane did not answer, she questioned her
further. "Is it because of Kimiko Nishiyama, Akane?"

As crystalline tears began to spill down her flushed cheeks, Akane
turned away from Shampoo. "No, what would make you say that?"

"Only two reasons," Shampoo told her, putting her hands on Akane's
shoulders. "Because she practices martial arts far beyond her age and
she looks like Ranma did when we first met him. I'm guessing it has a
lot to do with the second one."

Conceding, Akane nodded, glad that she and Shampoo would not be
bothered for a while. Her hand reached down the front of her shirt,
grabbing hold of the small locket dangling between her breasts. She
unhooked the golden chain on the back of her neck and held it out
behind her, which Shampoo took.

"It's not the hair or the similar appearance, really," Akane
confessed, turning her flank to Shampoo, looking over at her as she
stared at the pictures in it. "It's her eyes." She said faintly,
almost whispering. "She has his eyes, Shampoo. Not just blue eyes, his
eyes."

"How long have you had this?" Shampoo asked, holding up the open
locket.

"I've had it for sixteen years." The everlasting warmth faded from
Akane and she no longer felt anything but the pain of Ranma's loss all
over again. "I cut those out from two different pictures and hid them
in the locket when my husband started throwing everything of Ranma's
out, or giving it away." She had protested, but he had told her that
keeping his stuff at the house would only be a constant reminder of
Ranma. Everyone else agreed, but it hurt worse losing almost
everything that tied him to her than it did to have the objects
around, especially the pictures. Nodoka took most of those.

"I remember that," Shampoo stated. "Those were hard years for
everyone." Placing the chain around Akane's neck, she re-clasped it.
"What you said earlier, about Kimiko having Ranma's eyes...what did
you mean?"

Shrugging helplessly, Akane wished that she knew what she had
meant by that. For a brief instant yesterday, their eyes had met and
she had recognized the deep blue eyes of her former fiancee. "My
father and Genma believe that she's his daughter."

Gasping with shock, Shampoo put a hand to her mouth. "You think
they're right, don't you?"

Akane could not answer her and only remained silent. She had not
really decided for herself, and thinking about it only hurt more. Old
wounds were once more fresh, burning slashes cut across her soul, and
its poison coursing through her body. She wiped her face with her arm
and then tried to dry it with her cotton apron.

"Let's talk to her," Shampoo suggested, walking to the door of the
kitchen, spying through the circular glass cut top part of the wooden
door. Akane only looked at her incredulously. "I can always do the
talking while you just listen in."

"Okay," Akane agreed. She then took a deep breath, trying to calm
her shaken nerves. Following the purple-haired woman, she shook her
head. A week ago, if someone had told her that she would break down
upon seeing someone who resembled Ranma, she would have laughed. It
did not seem so funny at the moment though.

Her father sat across from Kimiko, while sweet Doctor Tofu watched
from the side of the shoji board. From the scowl on her father's face,
Akane guessed that Kimiko was winning.

"Sorry, Tendou-san," the redhead told Soun, bowing from her
sitting position.

"Good job," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.
At this moment, Akane and Shampoo sat down, one on each side of
the girl. Shampoo opened her mouth as to speak, but Eiji burst into
the room with Shintaro, the youngest Saotome child, in full pursuit.
Eiji positioned himself between Kimiko and his mother, circling around
when Shintaro tried to catch him. Akane almost cried out in protest.

"Can't catch me!" Eiji teased, sticking his tongue out at the
other boy.

"Why don't you two take your game outside?" Tofu suggested,
motioning to the closed door to the backyard.

"It's cold outside," Eiji complained, narrowly dodging Shintaro's
lunge. Akane smiled and slid out of the way, allowing Shintaro to
charge his opponent. With no where to dodge, Eiji braced himself and
both of the boys fell sprawling on top of Kimiko.

"Ow," Eiji whined, sandwiched between two other bodies. "Get offa
me Shintaro!" When whole group of adults began to laugh, Eiji started
to giggle. "I'm stuck."

"Allow me," Kimiko said as she stood, lifting both of the boys up
with her. Adjusting them in her arms, she held them both upside down
by their legs. "Both of you want down?"

"Yes!" Shintaro whispered with a giggle, trying to wiggle out of
her grip.

"No!" Eiji giggled, holding his arms to his chest.

Walking forward, the girl cleared the area of the shoji board and
set them down, much to Eiji's disappointment. "I'll give you three
seconds to get outside and hide!" The boys immediately bolted towards
the door, barely remembering to open it before plunging head first
into a sprint.

"I'll play you later, Doctor Tofu," Kimiko promised as she began
to chase after the children, shutting the door behind her.

The remaining four adults all sat around the shoji board in
silence, until Shampoo broke it. "She certainly gets along well with
the children."

"Yes," Soun replied, nodding with a smile. "She'll make a fine
mother some day." He scratched frizzled mustache idly, staring at the
shoji board. "An amazing child, that one is. She planned the whole
game, right from the start. I could see it in her eyes."

Any further comments were cut short as the next family entered the
house. Genma and Nodoka both carried covered baskets as they strolled
into the living room. As the four sitting around the shoji board stood
to greet their friends, Akane glanced back to where the children were
playing. Her questions would have to wait for later.

* * *

Within the bright dojo, the twins rotated around one another in a
circle, both ready for the other's attack. Cracking his knuckles,
Kenichi prepared for his sister's rush. The gleam in her eyes left
little doubt in his mind as to what her opening moves would be, though
she rarely ever fought with anything less than with her full effort.
As if predicting the outcome of their fight, she stood across from him
wearing a cocky smirk. He curved the right side of his mouth in a
lopsided smile, signaling the beginning of their match.

He quickly sidestepped her lunge kick, striking her outstretched
leg with a closed fist, hard enough to cause her to lose her balance.
Unfortunately, he was not quick enough to redirect his body against
her and she deflected his counter punches with impossibly quick
blocks. Never one to give up on a failed attack, Kenichi continued to
assault his sister with punches. She almost managed to block every
one, but the last slipped past her defenses, grazing her chin.

Caught off guard by his successful strike, Mayako tripped
backwards and fell onto her back, dazed by its power. She immediately
turned over onto her side, grasping her chin.

Quickly falling to kneel next to her, Kenichi leaned over his
sister. He furrowed his brows and slowly put his hand on her shoulder.
"You all right?"

Turning quickly, Mayako punched him in the stomach, grabbed the
folds of his gi shirt and tossed him over her side. Automatically
curling into a somersault, Kenichi rolled to his feet.

"Of course I'm fine, stupid," she told him as he dusted himself
off, pulling on the ends of his shirt in a poor attempt to straighten
it to fit his body. "You always fall for my crocodile tears, don't
you?"

"Whatever," he replied, turning to face her as she rolled to her
feet. Somehow she always managed to turn his victories into defeats.

"He actually managed to knock you down, Mayako," Ryosei commented,
grinning smugly from his spot next to Reiko at the edge of the dojo.
Both Mai and Reiko had become fairly accustomed to the bickering, and
they chatted between each other without notice of the others. The
pony-tailed boy stood, further driving his teasing into Mayako's
skull. "You're losing your edge."

"Shut up, Ryosei," Mayako muttered, turning her attention to her
brother. Their antics never ceased to make Kenichi chuckle. His
sister's eyes turned dark. "How did you hit me, Ken?"

Wondering the same thing himself, he cupped his chin as if giving
it deep consideration. Mayako narrowed her eyes, folding her arms
under her breasts. A moment later, he shrugged and turned, walking to
the edge of the dojo.

"I'm not done with you!" Mayako exclaimed, running to catch up
with him. "Just 'cause you got me once doesn't mean it's over!" By the
time she did stand next to him, he had already taken a seat next to
Mai.

"Yes, it does," he replied, grinning up at her. "You said before
the match that the first to be knocked down loses."

She grumbled, playfully kicking his shin. "Well, I want a rematch
then."

He considered it for a moment, but decided to quit while he was
ahead. He probably would not survive round two anyway. "No thanks." He
rested his back against the dojo wall, putting his hands behind his
head. Beside him, Mai and Reiko giggled.

"Ha-ha, laugh it up," Mayako mumbled, turning away from them. She
began to walk towards Ryosei who had already taken a fighting position
in the middle of the dojo. "Get ready, Ryosei! If I can't kick Ken's
ass today, I'm gonna kick yours."

"You promise?" Ryosei quipped, broadening his grin. "We can always
go to your room and you can kick it there."

Kenichi turned to the girls at his side and asked, "Reiko, do you
know if Kimiko is still playing shoji with Grandfather Soun?" He had
not seen her since he chased Eiji through the living room nearly
twenty minutes ago. The thought of leaving her alone with his
relatives scared him. Knowing his grandfather, Kenichi guessed that
the old man probably already devised a plan to marry her into the
family somehow.

Shrugging her shoulders, Reiko gave him an apologetic look before
continuing her conversation with Mai. He definitely did not wish to
join their girl talk, and watching Mayako splatter Ryosei across the
walls seemed even less interesting. Rising swiftly against the side of
the dojo, Kenichi took a deep breath. The clock above the shrine read
10:00. Such an early start for their gathering, he thought.

Silently padding across the clean, wooden floor of the dojo,
Kenichi left in search of Kimiko. His thoughts turned inward,
reflecting on his brief friendship with the redhead. Strange
coincidences riddled his memory, from their accidental encounter at
the airport to her pre-existent ties to his family, which he only
learned about today. The fact that they would have met regardless of
their first meeting made it seem even more fated.

As the cold air penetrated his reverie, he gritted his teeth, not
allowing his thoughts to falter. Her tear-stained, wide-eyed face
remained imprinted on his memory as he searched for her. The urge to
record the image onto canvas began to burn within him, and he decided
to begin it tonight. The only reason he did not begin this instant was
because he would much rather spend it with the girl herself.

Rewarded sooner than he expected, Kenichi rounded the corner of
the house to see her running from his little brother and Shintaro
Saotome around the blue waters of the koi pond. Smiling, he spied them
from afar and realized he was not the only one doing so. Not more than
ten feet away, Rintaro Saotome stood, nearly invisible within the
shadows. That setting suited the dark humored boy, Kenichi decided,
approaching his side.

"Kenichi," Rintaro acknowledged, not stirring a muscle.

"Hey," Kenichi greeted, realizing Rintaro did not even have to
look over to realize who approached him. "Whatcha doing?"

"The same as you," the dark-haired boy responded, turning his head
to face him. Kenichi did not like his gaze. It always seemed as if
Rintaro were looking into your soul, to see what lay there, peeling
you apart layer after layer. "Beaten by your sister early, perhaps? Or
did you actually managed to defeat her this time?"

"I got lucky," Kenichi told him neutrally, watching Kimiko run and
narrowly dodge the little boys' tackles.

"That's all it takes, usually," Rintaro told him, also turning his
head to watch. "A little luck is what you need to win, though
sometimes even that's not enough." Kenichi looked at the older boy
again, searching his face for any sign of emotion. As usual there was
none. His blank face was impossible to read, though sometimes you
could see depression in his eyes. Expressionless, emotionless,
uncaring: these were all words easily associated with the dark youth.

"You must have a lot of it then," Kenichi replied, hoping for any
response beyond a quick grin that would fade as quickly as it
appeared. Not even receiving that, he watched Rintaro turn for a
moment, as if in consideration, only to turn away again.

"I just use what luck I have efficiently." Rintaro's response was
dry, lacking any feeling. So bitter and so empty for one so young,
Kenichi thought, frowning at what his old friend had become. Looking
into Rintaro's pale blue eyes, Kenichi could swear that they would
pull you in just to fill the void of the boy's life.

He had not always been like that. Kenichi and he had somewhat been
friends when they were children, though Rintaro's training limited
their interaction to only one day per week. When the older boy began
school, they grew apart and they both made other friends, though most
of Kenichi's were shared with Mayako. Only within the last few years,
Rintaro began to change and close himself off from everyone. No one
really knew who he was now.

"Be careful with that one, Kenichi," Rintaro stated flatly.

Raising an eyebrow, Kenichi stared at him, confused. "What do you
mean? Careful with who?"

"Around Kimiko Nishiyama," the dark-haired boy replied coldly,
turning to face Kenichi. His pale blue eyes seemed to glow in the
shadows. "Don't mess around with her."

Even more confused, Kenichi frowned. "What do you mean?" Taking
offense at the simple mention of not being with her, he easily
filtered out his pity for the eldest Saotome child. "Why do you even
care?"

"She's a dangerous one," Rintaro continued, not even recognizing
Kenichi's question. "It's as if she were a stick of dynamite and
someone's already lit the fuse. A relationship with her will only
speed up the fire, if not detonate it." He blinked, meeting Kenichi's
stare. "I wouldn't want to be around when she explodes."

Believing Rintaro to be a time bomb himself, Kenichi turned his
head away from the dark youth, watching the two younger boys catch
Kimiko, only to fall with her into the koi pond. He chuckled, turning
back to Rintaro whose expressionless face had not even turned to see
the commotion behind him.

"Remember what I said," he told Kenichi, walking past him curtly.
Before he left earshot, he spoke one final piece of advice. "I
wouldn't even mess around with her at all, if I were you. She's bad
business."

"But you're not me," Kenichi muttered under his breath as he began
walking to Kimiko. "And thank God I'm not you."

Sopping wet from her plunge, Kimiko stood facing away from him,
ringing out the bottom of her blouse. Kenichi's little brother and
Shintaro both remained in the pool to splash each other as the koi
scattered from the youths. Turning in his direction, Kimiko smiled as
she squeezed water from her gray blouse, which was now nearly
transparent and clung tightly to her skin. Leaving little to his
imagination, her wet bra now conformed to the shape of her breasts and
showed him the outlines of her nipples. She released her grip on her
blouse, covering her washboard stomach.

"Before you say anything," she began, rolling her sleeves up to
her biceps. "I meant to do that." Glancing over to the boys leaving
the pond, she brushed her wet bangs out of her eyes with her hand.

"Do you want to drip dry, or do you want me to get you a towel?"
Kenichi asked, stopping to stand beside her. Though his words were
flamboyant, he felt his stomach turn over, and a slight blush colored
his face. He should have turned away and been a gentlemen, but the
sight before him was too much to release. She did not notice, and took
a step closer to him.

"Akane-san's getting us towels," she replied as she rested her
hand on his shoulder. Her chill, damp hands sent sparks down his spine
and sped up his heart. "I told her to bring four."

His mind began to shut off, but he managed to ask, "Why four?" As
he recognized the light fragrance of her damp hair and the smell of
mint toothpaste, the thought of her body so close energized him.

"Because you fell in too." Before he had a chance to react to her
words, she drew him up against her for a brief second, right before
twisting and lifting him. Though it seemed to take hours from the
point his body limply rested upon hers to the point she tossed him
over her hip towards the water, it did not take long for him to crash
into the center of the shallow pool.

His head punctured the surface of the koi pond, as laughter
pierced his ears. Spitting out sour water, he coughed. Regaining his
senses and shuddering at the unexpected cold of the pond, he wiped his
eyes. While his brother and Shintaro had already fallen down laughing,
Kimiko only stood on the edge of the pool, holding out her hand for
him. Though he should have been angry for the cheap tactic she had
pulled to throw him into the water, he was not. Her blue eyes twinkled
with enjoyment, a light they had probably been lacking in recent
times. Unlike his sister, who could be quite vicious at times, Kimiko
genuinely seemed playful, not intentionally trying to humiliate him.
After all, she had fallen in as well.

Sliding to the edge of the pond, Kenichi firmly took Kimiko's
offered hand, when the moment wiped away his sensibility. As if time
had slowed to a crawl, he felt her sluggishly begin to haul him out of
the water with her right arm. With one sharp tug, he countered her
strength. For less than a second she resisted, but she did not have
the leverage to sustain her position. Yelping in surprise, Kimiko fell
forward. The lethargy of the moment manufactured time between the
instant she slipped off the edge of the pond, and when she fell into
his arms, like some fantastical dream right before he woke up.

Her wide eyes met his as their bodies collided and descended into
the pool. The water slapped the back of Kenichi's head as he once more
submerged into the cold water. She hovered above him as he tried to
sit upright with her on top of him. Though the chill of the water was
draining the warmth from their bodies, he still felt flush when he
managed to push his head above the surface. His face pressed up
against her, and only too late did he realize just where he had his
open mouth. Disengaging his face from her breasts, he shifted to sit
up straight to sit eye level with her. He could numbly feel her
sitting upon his lap, one leg on each side of his waist. Her warm
breath caressed his face, her hands firmly held his shoulders, and her
slender body trembled against his.

He had not been this close to her since she had pinned him to the
dojo mat the day before, he realized. Like hers, goose bumps rose on
his arms as he very slowly placed his hands on her hips. She made no
protest and did not even try to get off of him. It felt almost as if
his body was on autopilot and he was just a vessel, helpless to stand
by and watch. She only shivered as he tilted his head to the right and
drew in close, sliding his eyes shut. A surge of adrenaline flooded
his veins, his stomach cramped and a thousand other sensations
overflowed his awareness.

And their closed lips met. She felt so warm in contrast with the
water that he only just began to feel their close embrace, the
hardness of her nipples pressed up against his chest, his arms
completely encircling her tiny waist, her hands grasping the back of
his neck. He could feel her rapid heartbeat in close comparison to his
own, taste the salt of her lips, and smell the sour water on her skin.
The torrent of emotions burning within him made every inch of his body
tingle, but just as his yearning for her was being sated, the moment
ended.

A voice, familiar yet unrecognized cried out. "Is everything okay,
Kenichi?" Kimiko pulled away from him and stood, leaving him there to
shiver in the pool. Unable to move, he continued to sit as his mother
handed Kimiko a towel. "Kenichi, are you all right?"

"He hit his head when he fell in the koi pond," Kimiko explained,
her voice distant and hollow. Shivering uncontrollably within her
towel, she looked at him with her brilliant blue eyes, the pain within
them shining through for him to see. His stolen kiss affected her
demeanor, he could tell.

"Come out of the water and let me have a look at your head," his
mother ordered, holding out a white towel for him. She looked at
Kimiko for a moment, and then turned her face back to him.

Standing gradually, despite his shaky knees, Kenichi acknowledged
her and slowly walked to her. Wrapping the towel around him, she took
his shoulders and asked, "Where'd you hit your head?"

Shrugging, he clenched the towel to himself, unable to find warmth
in it. As Akane began to probe his head for concussions, he looked
past her at Kimiko who still stared at the water shivering, as if
someone still sat there.

"You seem okay," his mother told him, smoothing back his hair.
"You had me worried, sitting their like that in the pond." He turned
his attention to his mother and smiled wearily. "I'll start the bath
for the two of you, if you want." He nodded eagerly, but Kimiko did
not even turn her head to acknowledge anything. "Kimiko-san?"

"Huh?" the redhead asked, shuddering abruptly as if someone jumped
out of the bushes, about to pounce on her. She turned, her eyes
distant as she draped her towel around her shoulders. "I'm sorry,
Akane-san, what did you ask?"

Akane smiled, approaching the girl. "Would you like me to warm the
bath for you?"

"Oh, no thanks," she replied, avoiding Kenichi's eyes entirely. "I
did soak my only clean clothes, though." She turned, a sparkle of
sunlight reflected off her eyes for an instant before her hair fell in
her face, sticking to her skin. She quickly pushed it out of her eyes.

"I'm sure Mayako won't mind lending you some," Akane told her,
placing her hand on Kimiko's shoulder. "I can take you up there right
now, if you want." With a solemn nod, Kimiko acknowledged Kenichi's
mother, and she shied her eyes from Kenichi's as she followed the
older woman into the house.

His face appeared as blank as his thoughts were, confusion from
the recent events still gripping him. Everything started out like a
fairy tale, a moment never to be forgotten. Her strange behavior after
the fact did not fit into the puzzle he had begun to construct. He
closed his eyes and brushed his lips with two outstretched fingertips.
The bittersweet taste of her lips still remained, as did his whole
impression of the moment, her wide green eyes, the feeling of her arms
around his shoulders, her body pressed against his. What could have
went wrong?

Blinking his eyes open, he furrowed his brows. "Green eyes?"

* * *

She felt anything but calm as she entered Mayako's room, closely
following her once and never to be again fiancee. If she had thought
her life was out of her control before, Kimiko certainly realized the
meaning of the words now. Like a roller coaster swiftly cruising
through some hideous reality, her reality was taking some incredibly
dangerous turns while spinning in a loop. Before she had the choice to
simply exit this world in which she was a part, but at every turn, it
felt like something was dragging her closer to the point of no return.

Damned is how she felt, cursed to live a lie until the day she
would die. The woman in front of her made her feel so many different
emotions, from love to depression, and yet it did not even seem to be
the same person she had left behind anymore. Controlling her jealousy
and anger, she tried to focus her concentration on something far more
eminent than her fallen love life: the stolen kiss in the pond and
what resulted thereafter. It could have been nothing other than a
twisted nightmare...



I fell forever, through time and space it seemed, into a warm,
lover's embrace. A cool mist shrouded the small pond, wrapping us
within the cold waters. My heart leapt at the indignity of how I fell
onto Kenichi, like a parasite clings to its host, my body landing on
top of his, my legs around his waist. Warmth flushed my face as I
began to recover from the fall, but something stopped me, and made me
look a second time. Through locks of my wet, black hair, I fully
recognized my true love beneath me. So taken was I with her that I
barely even realized that I had regained my manhood, restored to my
true gender, and Akane restored to her true age. I sat on top of her,
reeling with shock and delight.

Akane took the advantage of my temporary paralysis, pushing
herself from beneath me, sliding up against my body to face me. A
steamy breath gushed from my gaping mouth, and my eyes were so wide
that I must have looked down right silly, gawking like a school child
staring at a mountain of candy. Through the cold of the water, I felt
as if I was covered with gasoline and lit aflame, burning with
passion. My hands firmly grasped her shoulders, as if to check if she
were real and truly there at that moment in time. I wanted to shout my
undying love, pull her into an embrace and kiss her for all eternity,
but all I could do was sit there, shivering.

Something tugged at my mind, warning me that everything was not as
it seemed, but I ignored the urge to pull away. My dream seemed to be
coming true, the both of us given back our rightful bodies, neither
too young, nor too old. It was as if our love conquered both the
wicked nature of fate and the irreversibility of time. As Akane's
soft, cool hands crept around my waist, I believed it to be so.

With not a breath spared for talk, Akane pulled me so close that
our warm flesh seemed to meld. Gingerly kissing me, her soft lips
barely brushed mine at first, but then our kiss deepened as she grew
more aggressive. I yearned for nothing more than to drink from her
lips forever, and an eternity it felt to be. My hands groped the back
of her neck as I pushed my fingers into her raven black hair. I could
not feel anything else but her as the two of us became one again.

Then something strange happened, of which I can barely describe.
My body's sensation shifted within an instant, the whole center of my
existence being altered. Fiery pleasure from my chest became readily
apparent as former stiffness became a more subtle, yearning ache. It
was so sudden that it felt like the air was knocked from my lungs
without being struck, and yet the burning need for my partner
remained. Only, Akane rapidly felt different as well, harder, taller,
stronger.

Like a mallet of reality slamming against my head, the familiar
voice, which I did not expect to hear until we had finished kissing,
called out from behind me, as if her voice had become displaced from
her body. "Is everything okay, Kenichi?"

Kenichi. The name flashed in my mind for a second, and the
sensations of my body translated within my mind. Kenichi Tendou, so
similar to my Akane, and yet so very different, was the one whose body
I sat entangled with sharing body as well as soul, with me on top,
Kimiko Nishiyama, so similar to Ranma, and yet his complete opposite
trapped within the same body. The familiarity of my female body
plagued my awareness, as did my original need to flee. I needed to
leave before I became trapped within myself, imprisoned within the
cell of torment and fright of who I had been.

My body grudgingly responded as I broke the contact between
Kenichi and myself, the warmth of his embrace singing promises of
pleasures untold, like sultry sirens before they murdered the sailors
unwittingly drawn to them. Kenichi's eyes never left mine as I
retreated, and like never before I regretted my actions. I highly
doubted my sanity at that moment, realizing the confused hallucination
I had experienced during my inadvertent tryst with Kenichi.

"Kenichi, are you all right?" With that, someone wrapped a warm
towel around me, like a protective cloak, warding off the demons as
well as the cold. Realizing that Akane, not my Akane, held me steady,
I knew I needed an excuse, if not for the mother of the child whose
innocence I compromised, then for my own sake. A little white lie,
seen as embarrassed discomfort by anyone other than myself, was what I
needed. "He hit his head when he fell in the koi pond," were the words
that came out of my mouth. Hiding behind a pitiful excuse was what it
felt like to me.

I returned Kenichi's longing stare with my own confused and
sympathetic one. Water blurred my vision, but he stood out as clear as
the sun. I could only wonder what he was thinking, now that our
friendship was spoiled over a miscommunication of intentions. As I
thought about it, he might not have even realized anything was wrong.

As Kenichi gradually left the cold pool, my eyes lingered there.
Our earlier floundering vanished as time quickly washed away the
chaos, regaining its intended serenity. From the center of the water,
gentle waves caressed the surface, like rocks skidding across a lake.
I could see my wavy reflection in the water, a waterlogged young girl
aged far beyond her years. My eyes radiated loss and sadness as I
pushed an idle hand through my knotted, red hair. The mirror image
stared back just as solemnly, and I wondered which was Kimiko, and
which was the reflection. As if silently crying out for help, the
watery visage shook with fear and vanished, as if she had been pulled
down, so far down, into the depths of the icy cold water.

Something inside of me cried out in utter terror, though I spoke
not a word. Two forces yanked me in opposite directions, but the fear
seemed too overwhelming for anything else to contest. I could only
stare at the pool in horrid fascination as it reached into my soul
with its placid fingers, stealing my conscious awareness and pulling
me in. I tried to fight the fright welling up within me, but something
superseded my frantic efforts for emotional and conscious control,
someone else's dread, and someone else's phobia.

If a cat had jumped in front of me at that moment, with its teeth
and claws flashing, I doubt that I would have noticed. So pure, so
translucent was the water my gaze fell upon, that even the details of
the rock bed below stood out in full detail. Strangely, a lack of koi
in the pond made me quiver in fear, though I did not know why.

A cool blanket of mist descended upon my surroundings, like they
had in my earlier hallucination of being with Akane. That is when I
felt a tremor from the pool, not an earthquake, or anything natural,
but a shift of the natural balance of chi surrounding me. Powerful
energy radiated from the waters, but I could only stare, petrified
with terror.

Rotted blue hands broke the surface of the water, enough to cover
the entire pool. My mind screamed to flee, but I could only stand,
watching as they reached for me. They grabbed at my bare legs, their
powerful tugs pulling me off my feet. The back of my head struck the
ground as I fell over, and they began to drag me into the water. The
paralysis that had held me still lifted, and I quickly sat up to fight
the hands, which now took hold of my skirt and thighs, ripping and
squeezing. Wincing as my bare feet touched the icy cold water, I
attacked the closest of the hands with fierce punches. I shredded the
topmost ones with my blasts, but as one would fall away, two more
would take its place. More and more seemed to sprout as the water
reached my knees, and they started to grab my wrists and the skin of
my lower torso now exposed by my tattered blouse, though I wrestled
them with all of my might.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, the intense cold bit me as my
waistline met the water. If I could have screamed, everyone within
twenty miles would have heard my cry. The iron grip of each hand sent
waves of pain streaking throughout my body, and as the freezing water
reached my breasts, my cries were nothing more than a muffled sob, for
they held my head still, covering my mouth. When I felt the cold hit
my chin, I filled my lungs with air one last time, ready to be totally
consumed within the depths of the pool as my image had before me.

A blue haze distorted my vision suddenly, and my body went totally
numb. The pain was a distant concern as darkness crept over, wrapping
me in its wintry embrace. I only vaguely recognized the cold of the
water, feeling so detached from myself, floating somewhere past
reality. Sensations at once ceased, and for that millisecond, I
thought the emptiness of death had taken me.

And then I heard a faint, rapid noise. It gradually grew in volume
until it became recognizable, the sound of a horse's gallop, adding to
that, and a jarring, uncomfortable rock that chaffed my inner thighs.
I felt remarkably well, especially considering my earlier experience,
albeit a bit tired. I tried to pull myself awake, but my body did not
respond, and I supposed I had been rendered unconscious. Explaining
the why and the how of how of ending up on a galloping horse was
another story.

Gradually other sensations broke my dreamless slumber, the smell
strong smell of leather as well as its roughness against my face, the
sound of gentle breathing around whom my arms grasped. I guessed that
I was behind the rider of the horse, but I still could not help to
wonder what I was doing there.

Content for the moment, I relaxed my efforts to awaken. Strangely
though, my eyes flashed open of their own accord. Stung by the
brightness of noon, my eyes fluttered a few times. Confusion crept
into my heart, and my head jerked back with a start. Worst of all, I
did not purposely move my body.

"Juniji?" The words passed from my lips, but I did not speak them.
The voice, though, did not sound like my own. With a very feminine
tone, it came out much lighter and more drawn out than mine. An uneasy
fluttering in my stomach drew my attention from the lack of control
for a moment because of its strength.

"Yes, my lady, it is me," a deeply masculine voice responded from
in front of her, muffled by their travel.

"What happened?" Again, by no choice of my own, my lips moved, I
drew breath and I spoke.

"You and your escort were attacked by the Emperor's men while you
were being transported to your father's estate," the rider told her,
slowing the horse to a trot. "They would have been successful in
kidnapping you had I followed Bei Ling's orders to never come near you
again."

Warmth replaced the uneasy feeling in my stomach as I unwillingly
rested my head against his back again. I recognized the feeling
washing over me as we rode on. Only in Akane's presence had I felt the
like, love for which I could feel for no other. The warmth I know felt
was for the man I held in my arms. As sick as I wanted to be, no
emotion I thought I should feel was experienced.

There was only one logical I could conclude upon: I was dreaming.
The fact that rotting hands were not groping me, my evil twin was not
anywhere near by, and demons were not dancing around a pickled,
cooking redhead made this dream quite pleasant in comparison, though I
was a bit hungry. I have had some seriously disturbing dreams before;
this was nothing. It was just the first time I did not have any
conscious control of my dream body.

"Thank you, Juniji," my host whispered into his ear, smiling. "I
owe you my life twice over now."

"Lady Sun Li, I swore that I would let no harm befall you before,"
Juniji began, resting his hands on hers. "And I meant it. My life is
yours. My heart is yours." With a content sigh, Sun Li seemed to purr
in response. Even in a dream, I felt the need to wince from the sound,
though of course I could not.

"I love you," she told him firmly, affectionately squeezing his
rigidly hard ribs. I could only guess that he wore some sort of
flexible metal armor underneath his coat.

"And I love you, my sweet lily," he replied, stopping his horse
underneath a large tree, its trunk reaching so high into the sky that
I could not see its end. A light, sweet breeze gently ruffled Sun Li's
long black hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing it in deeply. With
one deft motion, he dismounted from the horse, softly leaping to the
ground. Reaching out, he lifted Sun Li with his arms extended and set
her down.

"I thought we'd never stop to eat," she whispered in his ear as
she hugged him, and I could not agree with her anymore. The knot of
hunger in her stomach was beginning to annoy me. After all, I am used
to stuffing my face whenever I am able.

He smiled as he withdrew from her grasp, taking the reins of the
horse. "Let's move further off the trail. I don't want to attract any
attention." Sun Li blushed uncomfortably, looking away. He chuckled in
response. "The Emperor's men will still be looking for you, my love. I
will not give them the chance to abduct you while I still draw
breath."

The two of them walked for a short time, until they were invisible
from road. Juniji found small dirt clearing between two large ferns,
and if they were to sit, the shrubbery would conceal their position,
except for the horse. From his saddlebags, the warrior produced a
wide, thick wool blanket, which he spread out upon the ground.
Motioning for her to sit, he unceremoniously plopped on the ground,
the exhaustion he felt obvious.

"Are you well, love?" Sun Li asked as she gracefully sat next to
him, putting her arm around his broad shoulders.

"I am tired; that is all." With a deep sigh, he begins to unwrap
some trail rations from a waxy paper. "Forgive my lack of appetizing
foods, but I did not expect company." He actually sounded embarrassed
saying that as he handed her decent sized a portion.

"If dirt were the only food I could eat near you, I would eat
dirt," she told him, resting her body against him. His thick leather
coat padded him well, but the body armor beneath made it
uncomfortable; however, Sun Li spoke not a word in complaint. He
seemed to realize the problem, though, for he prompted her to sit up
as he untied the coat from around his neck, revealing a chain mesh
body armor, woven so tightly that it almost appeared to be a single
plate instead of a web of metal. Slipping his arms into the body of
the armor.

"Would you help pull it over my head?" he asked. Without
responding, she pulled the armor at his neck, lifting it over his head
and hurting her fingers in the process. He took the armor from her and
placed it out of the way.

"How do you normally get out of it, if you cannot do it yourself?"
Sun Li wondered aloud, laying her back against his chest, and he
wrapped one arm around her. She took a bite of the trail ration,
disguising her dislike for the bitter food with a smile. The flavor
reminded me of something Akane would cook on a good day; that was not
really saying much for it though.

"Normally, I do not," he replied, taking some of the food for his
own. "This really is pretty bad, isn't it?" With a giggle, Sun Li
nodded in complete agreement.

"When we last met, you didn't wear your armor then?" she
questioned, taking another bite.

"I usually do not in your presence, unless I expect danger."

"Oh," she replied, then yawned deeply. Craning her neck back, she
looked into his eyes. "Not expecting danger, sir knight?" He smiled
and leaned forward, lightly brushing her lips with his own. He held
her securely, his left hand cupping the back of her head in support
and his right on her left shoulder. The taste of his lips was ecstasy
for her, and that I truly knew, for I experienced it as well. Nothing
I could do or think could change it, either, for I was Sun Li, and she
was me. And in that moment, I was whole.

Whether only a moment or an hour later, the darkness crept upon
me. I did not know if I welcomed the escape, or dreaded it, so clouded
was I with Sun Li's emotions, especially her love, her acceptance of
his lowly station, her remorseless choice to be with him against the
society that raised her. Billions of souls occupied Earth, and yet I
was alone again, encased within inky black detachment from Sun Li's
body and mind. As perpetual as the loneliness felt, I knew it would
have an end. I did not believe in eternal suffering, for every soul
has its place in the world, until the body is dead, decaying under the
surface, never to feel the warmth of the sun upon the flesh and the
passion of a lover's farewell breath.

It was not my time, I told myself as a pinpoint of light shone
through the covering of the void within which I existed. That light
reached out for me, taking my hands gently. I expected the warmth that
light usually bestowed, to warm my frozen soul and pull me from my
hell, but the chill of water and the presence of damp linen that I
slowly became aware of were far from warm. A soft hand on my shoulder
startled me, restoring my former consciousness. Akane, Kenichi and the
rest of reality flashed in my mind, reminding me where I stood, and
what I had done.


It was nothing but a twisted nightmare, Kimiko reminded herself as
she silently shed her sodden clothing. Peeling her undergarments from
her body, she then took the ones offered by Akane, a sports bra and
panties with Sailor Moon prints. Though she had to suppress a shiver
at the thought of Sailor Moon pictures on her underwear, she could not
help but wonder why Mayako had them.

"Yen for your thoughts," Akane told her, smiling lightly.
Something in her eyes shined, some secret knowledge that Kimiko needed
to be wary of.

"I was just wondering why Mayako had Sailor Moon panties," Kimiko
answered, fighting giggles. "I didn't know they were even popular
anymore."

With a chuckle, Akane shook her head and handed Kimiko a choice of
shirt and pants. The only ones remotely wearable were stupid looking
in their own right, a blouse with Hawaiian prints and a pair of tight
sweats. The rest seemed to befit a ten-year-old girl better than a
sixteen-year-old martial artist.

"They had a resurgence a several years ago when Mayako was
thirteen," Akane explained, raising an eyebrow at Kimiko's selection
of clothing. "They were one of the few pairs I could find that would
fit you. Mayako has grown up and out a lot in the past few years.
Don't tell her I said that, though." Nodding, Kimiko put on the
clothing.

"The kids are all fighting in the dojo, if you're interested,"
Akane offered, ruffling Kimiko's hair with the towel after the girl
had put on the blouse. "I'm sure one would offer to fight you."

* * *

A violent wind howled as Mai watched Reiko exit the dojo to get an
ice pack for Ryosei. Mayako had only scowled at the thought of even
needing the item, but Reiko insisted that it could not hurt. Mai
agreed fully with the elder girl's suggestion. She did not want to
take any chances with her older brother.

"You didn't need to hit him that hard, Mayako," Mai admonished,
holding her brother's unconscious head in her lap. Even a blow
powerful enough to send him reeling into such a senseless state was
not enough to wipe the brazen grin off his face. Noticing stray hairs
falling out of his ponytail in bunches, she untied the thin cord that
bound it.

"He asked for it with that last insult," Mayako retorted, huffing
and crossing her arms over her breasts. She looked over her shoulder
at him sympathetically, but turned her head back quickly.

"He did, but you still didn't need to knock him out," Mai replied,
her voice just loud enough not to be considered a whisper. Pulling
Ryosei's hair back tightly, she retied the cord for his ponytail.

"I go away for a few minutes and Ryosei's out cold?" Kenichi
called out from the entrance of the dojo. Mai blushed as she looked up
at the young man. With a towel draped over his shoulders and a sodden
gi clinging to his body, very little was left to her imagination. He
seemed to glow with a rare burst of confidence as he sauntered across
the blue mat of the dojo, leaving a damp footprint with each step.

Spinning to face away from him, Mayako grumbled something
unintelligible. Mai knew that she was still angry that he had beaten
her so swiftly earlier and not allowed her the chance to rematch him.
Mayako was just that sort of person, losing was not a part of her
vocabulary. Mai had heard her call it "temporary defeat" once, and it
always seemed to be that way. No matter how hard she would have to
work, she would always come up on top in the end. How on Earth she
developed such a demeanor was beyond Mai, especially considering
Mayako's mother, one of the gentlest and most benevolent people in
Tokyo.

Ryosei stirred in her lap as Kenichi stopped next to her. "He
okay?" Mai looked up at the drenched boy, smiling at his honest
concern. She nodded quickly and turned back to her brother. Kenichi
shrugged. "Slap him around a bit. He'll wake up."

"Don't you dare, Kenichi Tendou!" Reiko scolded, entering the dojo
unheard. "The last thing he needs is anyone hitting him more...why you
have to fight in the first place..." She let her words die, for they
only met heathen ears. Reiko glared as Kenichi chuckled and walked
into the boy's locker room. Mai giggled, taking Reiko's offered cold
pack.

"Hit Ryosei anymore and he might lose his last brain cell," Mayako
scoffed, unceremoniously dropping in front of Mai. Although her words
insulted Mai's brother, Mai knew better. Through it all, Mayako was
concerned when it came to her friends, no matter how confident of his
condition she seemed. Somehow she thought that her eyes seemed to show
more than just concern, though. Probably guilt, Mai supposed.

"I heard that," Ryosei whispered, and then hissed as Mai pressed
the cool plastic pack to his forehead. "Stronger than any horse, but
just as ugly."

"You're not making the situation any better, Ryosei," Reiko told
him, sitting down next to him and Mai. Mayako only shot him a dark
glare from her position in front of Mai.

The hiss of the shower faintly sounded through the piping around
the dojo. Mai colored faintly just thinking about who was taking the
shower. Turning her attention back to her brother who still laid on
her lap, she flipped the cool pack over.

"I wonder how Kenichi got all wet," Mai thought aloud, letting her
grip on the cool pack slip. It slid down and Ryosei caught it as it
passed his nose. "Sorry, brother."

"No problem," he replied, sitting upright. "That was some kick,
Mayako." Mai watched his back tense slightly as he fought to right
himself completely.

"Thanks, I think," Mayako responded, looking at the dojo wall.
Addressing Mai, she dryly commented on the girl's earlier question. "I
think Ken found the koi pond was nice this time of the year." Reiko
and Mai giggled. "From the look on his face, he did more than fall in,
though."

"Yeah, he looked happy," Mai added, resting her chin on her
brother's right shoulder. Ryosei slopped the cool pack on the top of
her head, causing the girl to giggle again.

"Maybe Rintaro pushed him in," Ryosei suggested, taking the cool
pack and pressing it against his head.

"Rintaro wouldn't do that!" Reiko protested, rocking on her knees.
"Plus, why would he be happy about being pushed in by Rintaro?"
Mayako glared at Ryosei, challenging him.

"Hell if I know," he shrugged, dropping the cold pack to the mat.
"Maybe Kimiko-san pushed him in. I'd even be happy about that."

"Pervert," Mayako muttered, turning her head. She turned back with
an evil grin. "Better yet, maybe she pulled him in!" Ryosei and Reiko
laughed out loud, leaving Mai to stare towards the locker rooms
mutely.

"And I'm a pervert?" Ryosei mused, pushing himself to his knees.
"What if he pulled her in?" Mai jabbed his back with her index finger,
shaking her head. "Hey, it could happen."

"Why don't we bet on it?" Mayako proposed with a lopsided grin.
"She pulled him in, I win. He pulled her in, you win."

"How do you know Kimiko was even in the pond?" Mai interjected
defensively. Truthfully, she hoped neither pulled the other into the
water, or pushed for that matter. Silently scolding herself for her
jealousy, she frowned at her brother's back.

"Kimiko had to change her clothes," Reiko informed them with an
innocent smile on her face. When everyone looked at her dubiously, she
elaborated. "I asked Auntie Shampoo where she was when I got the ice
pack."

"It's settled then," Ryosei concluded, holding his hand out for
Mayako. "If I win, you and me, and Kenichi and Kimiko go on a double
date. And you pay for it all." Mai giggled when she saw Mayako grimace
like someone told her it was time for a dentist appointment.

"Well, since I know Kenichi is not the type to pull girls into
cold bodies of water," the twin began, taking Ryosei's offered hand,
"I'll agree to it. When I win, you owe me a week of free okonomiyaki."

"Deal!" Ryosei exclaimed, shaking her hand vigorously.

By his attitude, Mai guessed that either way Ryosei had
accomplished his goal: to get Mayako to agree to do anything near him.
It was no secret that he fancied Mayako, but then again, he really did
not hide his attraction to anyone. That was the greatest problem he
had in keeping a relationship with girls. If Mai had a yen for every
woman he hit on during a date with another, she would be only one yen
short of a million.

The hum of the shower withered and died as Kimiko entered the
dojo, followed closely by Rintaro, their heads close in conversation.
The four teenagers on the mat watched them in silence as they neared
them.

"How much is 'sort of'?" Rintaro asked of her.

"You know, I've practiced some," she replied nonchalantly, hooking
her hands in the pockets of some pants that Mai recognized as a pair
of Mayako's black sweats.

"I don't spar with amateurs," he said in a monotone voice.

"I didn't say I was an amateur," she responded, sitting down two
feet from Mayako. Her hair took a deep shade of crimson when wet, Mai
noticed, wondering what really did bring the two to fall into the koi
pond. She knew Kenichi liked the redhead, but she had no idea whether
Kimiko felt the same about him. Mai hoped not.

"She beat me," Mayako cut in, playfully sticking her tongue out at
Rintaro who seemed neither impressed nor surprised with the statement.
Mai most certainly had, even after seeing the girl in action. Then
again, Rintaro was notoriously stone-faced. Mayako then added, "She'll
give you a run for your money, Rintaro."

Rintaro sat down close to and facing Kimiko, quite daring and open
for him, Mai thought. If it were not for the height and hair
difference, she might have considered the too brother and sister.
Their facial features and eyes looked similar, but Kimiko was much too
cute to be his brother. Mai could admit that even though she was still
bitter about Rintaro hurting Kenichi the last time they fought.

"Then you want to spar?" Rintaro asked single-mindedly, not paying
attention to anyone else. Mai always thought he was much too serious,
and the little interaction she had with him only solidified that view.

"I guess," Kimiko answered, crossing her legs. "I hope you're as
good as you think you are."

Mai supposed that if a pin fell, everyone would have jumped when
it hit the ground. No one had ever challenged Rintaro's skill like
that before. Challenge him, yes, but question his skill? No. The young
man was like the anvil of martial artists; everyone was broken on him
at least once. He certainly made for a good ego deflation device,
because even grown adults lost to him. Rintaro had the best of both
worlds, speed and power. Most only had one or the other, like the
twins. Kenichi had power and Mayako had speed. While they complemented
each other very well, Rintaro was a team of his own. He would plow
through a group faster than Mayako could, and yet harder than Kenichi.

Rintaro's cold blue eyes only radiated curiosity, never outrage or
anger. That was another of his strengths. He never let anything get to
his head, and he rarely bragged about his victories. His ability to
stay cool while angering his opponents was legendary among the
fighters of Nerima. He would be a perfect catch for any girl other
than the fact that he was also as closed off as box without hinges,
door or lid. Nothing seemed to affect him, and he did not care for
anyone but himself, it seemed to her.

"I never think, Nishiyama-san," he replied neutrally. "I only am
as good as I know myself to be. I also hope that you are as good as
you seem to be."

"Hey, Kimiko-san," Ryosei bluntly interrupted, causing Rintaro to
glare at him. "Mind if I ask you a question?" She shook her head.
"Well, Mayako and I had a bet, and we were wondering. Who pulled who
into the koi pond?"

At that moment, Mai's spirits wilted, for she knew that at least
one of them had pulled the other into the water, because Kimiko's face
began to emulate the color of her hair as she looked away.

"He told you that?" she whispered, unmistakable disappointment
resonating in her low voice. Mai almost cringed in the poor girl's
place, and she poked her brother in the ribs for being so rude.
Though, she did wonder why Kimiko was so embarrassed about it. Pulling
someone into the water, or vice-versa, was not that big of a deal.

"Well," Ryosei gulped, realizing he overstepped the bounds of good
manners, though it would do him little good now. "You see..."

"Ah, come on, Kimiko," Mayako whined, batting her eyelashes. "I've
got a lot riding on this. Please tell us!"

"Mayako!" Reiko reprimanded, her tone bordering anger. "That is so
rude! You should both apologize to her this instant." At least someone
was sticking up for the poor girl, Mai though to herself. She
certainly was not going to be the one to do it, especially if it
involved getting her head bit off by Mayako. No one ever argued with
Reiko, though.

"No, it's okay," Kimiko lied, regaining what was left of her
composure. She looked different than she did earlier, Mai thought. It
was something in her eyes, but for better or worse, Mai could not
distinguish. "I'll spar with you now, Saotome-san." With that, Kimiko
sprung to her feet and quickly put a bit of distance between the group
and herself.

"He pulled her in," Rintaro whispered when Kimiko was out of
earshot. "That's right before he kissed her." Mai's heart skipped a
beat as Rintaro stood up. "It was a scene right out of a paper back
romance novel."

"Whoa," Mayako murmured under her breath. "He's making the moves
on her fast."

Whatever her brother said next, Mai did not notice. Rintaro's
words swam in her mind, echoing over and over. "...he kissed her," he
had said. Could he be lying? She wondered. But why would he lie? He
would gain nothing from misinforming them, and he had never seemed the
vindictive type.

"He kissed her," Mai whispered so low that even she did not hear
herself speak the words, though Rintaro nodded in her direction before
he turned to walk to face off with Kimiko.

"Oh my," Reiko whispered as her initial shock wore off. "I'm so
sorry, Mai-chan."

Mai only dumbly nodded, ignoring the exchange between her brother
and Mayako, who seemed to callously ignore her feelings. It hurt so
bad realizing that her love for Kenichi might never be reciprocated.
She felt a dozen years younger than him then, almost like a baby
sister to the teenager she dreamed of marrying.

"I can't believe I have to go on a date with you," Mayako stated
in denial, shaking her head.

"All right, how about we either sweeten the deal for me, or cancel
the whole thing with one last bet," Ryosei proposed, rubbing his hands
together in anticipation, without the fear of loss.

"And what would that be, smart guy?" Between the look on Mayako's
face and the dry tone of her voice, she did not seem ready to lose
anything else today.

"We bet on who wins this match," he offered, grinning. "And the
prize will be a kiss good night at the end of the date."

With a shake of her head, Mai looked over at the two preparing to
spar. Rintaro merely stood there with his eyes closed, breathing
deeply, while Kimiko stretched. The redhead was amazingly dexterous,
standing upright straight from doing a full split. She looked like a
spring the way she bounced to her feet so easily. During her melee
with Shoji and his goons, she had fought them so casually, as if they
were hardly worth the effort. It was almost as if she had been fooling
with them, rather than beating the living daylights out of them. It
was not fair that she could be so good and hold Kenichi's heart.

"There's no way I'm going to agree to that," Mayako retorted
distastefully, glaring at Mai's brother. "I'll part with cash, but I
won't part with a kiss. I'd rather kiss Rintaro than you, and he'd
have to be the last person on Earth for that."

"Whatever, frosty," Ryosei uttered, shrugging his shoulders.
"You're just afraid to lose."

The perpetual hiss of water from the locker room ceased, stealing
Mai's attention again. She sighed and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Afraid to lose?" Mayako shot back. "I'm not afraid. You got a
deal then!"

"My bet's on Kimiko," he told her resolutely.

"As much as I hate betting against, Kimiko," Mayako began. "I
don't think she can beat Rintaro. You got yourself a bet, Ryosei."

There was a brief silence in the dojo. It felt unsettling for Mai,
all cooped up with nothing but her own thoughts to listen to. She
wanted to stop feeling sorry for herself, but the urge to curl up in a
ball and die would not go away.

"What are you thinking about, Mai-chan?" Reiko slid over and put
her right arm around the young girl's shoulders. Mai only shook her
head while biting her lip. "You'll meet someone else. I promise."
Bringing her head up to meet Reiko's kind smile, she forced one of
her own. "But none of them are Kenichi."

"Getting over crushes is pretty tough, I know," the older girl
replied wiping an unexpected tear from Mai's face. "He'll be out here
in a few. Try asking him what happened. Maybe it's not as it seems."

Always the hopeful, Mai thought to herself. "I guess. But how can
he be anything else than in love with her? You saw him last night. If
she asked him to swim to China and back, he'd have done it." As if I
would not do the same for him, she thought.

"She may have rejected him, though," Reiko suggested, patting
Mai's back. "Even if she didn't, it's not like they're engaged or
anything, though I wouldn't put it past Grandfather Soun."

With a giggle, Mai wiped her face with her hand. "I wouldn't
either!" She sniffled and rested her legs out straight.

"Here he comes," Reiko whispered in her ear, then scooted a few
feet from her.

Looking over her right shoulder, she watched Kenichi pad onto the
dojo mat, bowing upon his entrance. His ruffled, wet hair glistened in
the light, obscuring his handsome face from her. He was dressed in
black slacks and a green shirt. He must have hurried to dress, for
most of the buttons from his upper stomach to the top were undone, and
the collar stood upright instead of folded, shrouding his bare neck.

"Hey, Kenichi!" Reiko called over to the young man, patting the
space between Mai and herself.

Kenichi smiles like his sister, Mai observed as one side of his
lips curved upwards in a makeshift grin. He silently walked around to
them, the black slacks drawing up against his thighs as he tracked his
way to them, defining the muscles of his legs. She ached to drape her
arms around his shoulders then, to draw him close and to taste his
lips. His brown eyes twinkled as he rounded behind and sat between
them.

"Hey, you look down, Mai. You okay?" She felt the light tickle of
his breath as he spoke to her.

"I'm fine," she replied softly, having to control her nerves with
him so close. Unable to speak more than that, she bit her upper lip
and turned away.

"Oh," he whispered. Mai had to stifle a gasp when he rested his
right hand on her left shoulder. "If you ever need someone to talk
with, I'm a good listener." She did not need to see his face to know
he smiled at her reassuringly.

If it were only that simple, she thought, responding with a nod.
Much to her discomfort, he let his hand remain as his attention for
her faded. His knee bumped her leg as he shifted to sit with his legs
crossed. Gulping slowly, she turned her head to look at him. As if
entranced, he stared at Kimiko who was just beginning to stand across
from Rintaro, with Ryosei, the mediator, in between.

"She's going to fight Rintaro?" His voiced betrayed his concern.
"Yes," she answered, unintentionally scooting closer to him. The
cloth of his shirt widely hung open, revealing nearly his entire chest
from her vantage. A faint blush crept over her cheeks and she forced
herself to look at the two fighters.

"I've gotta stop her," Kenichi said, beginning to stand, but
Mayako loomed over him and pushed him down. He landed quite hard, and
he unintentionally leaned on Mai, not that she minded though. She
quickly put her arm around him for support, though he probably did not
need it.

"Not if I have a say in it," his twin snapped, crossing her arms
over her breasts. She grinned down at him like some evil gargoyle
protecting its residence. "I've got a lot riding on this fight. And I
do mean a lot."

As he frowned, Mai felt his body tense and his arms flex. He felt
quite warm up against her, almost unbearably so.

"You know Rintaro doesn't kid around," Kenichi argued, glaring at
his sister. "She doesn't know that and could get hurt!"

Rolling her eyes, Mayako sighed. "She's a big girl. She can take
care of herself just fine."

"Well, I'm going to stop her anyway," Kenichi stated defiantly.
"What are you going to do? Hold me down the whole time?" Humming in
mock consideration, Mayako quickly shook her head. "What then? Sit in
my lap?"

With a giggle, Mayako exclaimed, "Good idea!" and quickly plopped
herself on top of him. Mai tried to hide her face, but she burst out
in giggles. She could hear Reiko on the other side laughing as well.

"Hey! Ah, come on. Get off!" Kenichi looked like a cornered
rabbit, looking for a way past the fox. He gently tried to push her
off, but his resistance was futile. It was just like Kenichi, Mai
thought as she started to control herself. Kenichi was entirely too
passive, especially when things involved girls. In this case, Mayako
was definitely the fox.

"But you offered," Mayako whined sarcastically, turning to him
with her best pouting face.

"I was kidding," he replied deadpan, frowning seriously. He tried
to look past her at the two who were planning to spar, but she leaned
her head to block him. "Off, Mayako. I'm not a chair."

"I thought you loved me, Kenichi Tendou!" Mayako cried, burying
her face in his chest. Sometimes Mayako could act so well that it
would even fool Mai and Reiko. Now was not one of those times,
although forced tears sparkled on her cheeks.

"Don't be like that." Kenichi put his hand on her shoulder.
Shaking her head, Mai realized that he fell for her cheap ploy, even
though this was one of Mayako's worst performances to date. "Hey,
don't cry." The frown vanished as real concern lit up his face.

"Gotcha!" Mayako chirped, squeezing his nose as she turned her
head to look up. Mai fell over sideways with laughter. The look on his
face was simply priceless, half shock and half disgust for being taken
for a fool again.

"You're not funny," he whispered futilely as she turned away from
him. "You're not going to get off, are you?"

"Nope." And Mayako would not, either, Mai knew. The girl would
probably stubbornly sit on him until the entire fight was over just to
prove some zany point that only Mayako herself could understand.

Things always seemed to end up just like that within their circle
of friends. Nothing would ever get solved, questions would never be
answered, and Mayako would always tease Kenichi. It was an endless
cycle of crazy events that all happened at once. Others came and left,
but the three girls and the two boys had always remained. Ryosei was
too much of a pervert to be trusted to sleep over, but other than
that, no one else really melded with the circle well. Rintaro had been
in it for a time, but he was far too caught up in martial pursuits to
stay in one place long and had been more of a casual friend than
anything. The last year he had grown very distant from them as well.

And that brought Mai to think about the latest possible addition,
Kimiko. She had heard through Mayako that the girl was leaving for
China very soon, but it did not mean she would not be back. So far,
Kenichi had a crush on her, which could last for years with even a
little incentive, and a kiss now was enough for at least a year of
devotion. Mayako and Kimiko seemed to go together like peanut butter
and celery, neither worked without someone else to complement them.
Plus, Mayako needed someone to shrink her gigantic ego. The twins
seemed to completely accept the redhead in their party of five.

Mai did not even have to consider Reiko's acceptance, because she
took it on faith that the totally forgiving, warm, faultless girl
could possibly reject anyone from their group. She would even let
someone from Shoji's group or even Rintaro join them in their slumber
party if asked. Now that was a disturbing thought.

That left the Onos, her brother and herself. Ryosei was a pushover
when it came to cute girls, so he accepted Kimiko by default. The fact
that she could kick his ass any time of the day helped things too.
Although Mayako was a horrible teacher, far too caught up in her own
self-improvement to help others, Ryosei always learned from her,
improving a little each time. If Kimiko would stay around, he would
probably provoke her into brawls to learn from her as well. The pony-
tailed boy took a beating better than anyone she knew, excluding
Kenichi, who was hardly a fair comparison. Kenichi was the human
sponge at being able to absorb punishment.

Four down left her on a fine line of acceptance and rejection. Mai
had to admit that Kimiko seemed very nice, even if a bit withdrawn and
quiet. The little time they had spent together, the redhead seemed to
mirror Mai's own sensibilities, neither taking Mayako's side nor
Reiko's impartiality. Kimiko was a somewhat ordinary, if abnormally
gifted, teenage girl. Mai normally would not even think about
rejecting such an even-tempered, talented girl into their group,
except for one thing: Kenichi.

For nearly four years now, she had been utterly in love with the
young man. She loved everything about him, from his extraordinary
treatment of the fairer sex to his blindness to their advances and
flirting. He was always so polite and cordial, even when his sister
would tease him without mercy. If Mai had been in his shoes during
half of the stuff he had put up with, there was no way that one of
them would walk out of there without a black eye or a fat lip. Mai put
up with her fair share, but it was nothing compared to what poor
Kenichi suffered.

Just thinking of the subject brought a few trickily memories to
mind. It had been the four of them like always, staying up and talking
into the late hours. It happened four years ago, when Mai was ten, the
twins twelve and Reiko thirteen. Kenichi might as well have been
living on Mars for all he knew about puberty at the time.

While ten year olds had no problem with breasts yet, the two other
girls were already beginning their development. Mayako was well aware
of her brother's innocence and took advantage of it on that night. The
thing to remember about Mayako was that she had little to no shame,
now or then. So she asked her brother to help him with her shirt as
she was planning to get ready for bed. Since he had no idea of what
she had in mind, he obliged her and got quite and eyeful. For poor
Kenichi, it was simply too much. He had turned to Reiko and Mai for
support, but unfortunately that made things worse. Reiko trusted
Kenichi implicitly, and of course had just disrobed as he turned. Two
times in one day was more than enough for him to faint. That left Mai
to break his fall and lay pinned underneath, while one girl laughed
her ass off and the other to ask Mai if she was all right before going
back to her own business.

Pinned might not have been the best term, for if she had tried,
Mai could have gotten out from underneath him. Something inside of her
cried out when she had been about to push him off, though. She wished
that she could have seen what it looked like at the time, because
Mayako would not stop laughing for nearly fifteen minutes after taking
one look. Reiko, being Reiko, fell asleep instantaneously as her head
hit the pillow, so when Mai asked for help she could not have
answered. With Mayako being herself, she refused to help, got her
camera, took a few snap shots and went straight to bed.

She had listened to his soft breathing for another half hour
before he had regained consciousness. He had not lain on top of her
uncomfortably, either. It was as if he had planned the whole thing for
a cheap feel with Mai caught off guard, but she knew better than that.
He had only half laid on her with most of his weight on his right
shoulder and knee, while his body was pressed to hers, his left leg
between her two and his left arm against her right, and with his left
hand he gently held her left shoulder. The warm skin of his smooth
left cheek rubbed hers, and if she had turned then, she might have
gotten a mouthful of his black hair.

After five minutes had passed, his head tilted slightly, allowing
her to look at his face. Pale moonlight gently lit his angelic white
skin against the contrast of his dark hair. With his breath tickling
her cheek, she had stared in awe at him, realizing the feelings she
had kept hidden from herself, her whole life. Her heart had become a
knot of emotions for him, bursting to be released.

In one of the most daring moments of her young life, Mai had
gently caressed his cheek with her lips. Quickly retreating, her heart
had felt like drums at a heavy metal rock concert, much different than
his slow, relaxed one. It was just an innocent, harmless kiss, but she
had felt awful at the time for stealing it at his moment of weakness.
The guilt did not last long though, for she had not resisted doing it
again. That time her lips touched his face, he seemed to purr like a
kitten getting its tummy rubbed.

She might just have been a ten-year-old girl realizing and living
a fantasy, but his head then had fully turned to face her, his eyes
still closed, and his nose brushed hers. She had no chance to giggle,
for he had kissed her fully on the lips. As if he had sucked the very
life from her body, she had only stared in stunned silence even as he
broke the kiss and mumbled something under his breath. It was too bad
he had been asleep and did not remember, and even more unfortunate
that he awoke a bit later and apologized.

Without even realizing it, Kenichi had swept Mai off her feet to
be head over heels in love with him. Mai looked at him now with his
sister sitting close, resting on him like a recliner. He shot her an
apologetic glance for their disrupted moment before he ruined it by
looking at Kimiko. Desperately wishing that he had been awake that
beautiful night so many years in the past, Mai sighed and looked away.
The two years that separated them seemed like and eternity, and the
girl that separated them was an obstacle too large to walk around, too
tall to climb and impossible to pass through. Life was so unfair.



Breathe. Warm air filled his expanding lungs torturously slow,
even as the need to suck in all the air he could manage at once
plagued him. Tofu-sensei had taught him this technique long ago, when
he was just a child. Breathing became life, blocking out everything
else, even the pain. He had avoided many agonizing nights through it,
and now he was using it to clear his consciousness. His skills were on
trial now, no longer his body.

With his fists clenched and eyes closed, he stood across from his
opponent. Though his vision was darkened, he could sense her to be
very near, no further than a few steps away. Her slow, strong
heartbeat seemed to echo loudly in his ears though it was no louder
than his. Opening his eyes as he finally completed his concentration
exercise, Rintaro stared at his red-haired opponent. She, too, had
been performing some sort of ritual before the match, though hers
included more stretching than mental focus.

With the sleeves of her colorful Hawaiian styled blouse rolled up
to the elbow, and the pant legs of her tight sweats rolled to her
knees, she looked very young, not to mention cute. The baggy shirt
gave her figure an ambiguous quality and made her look as young as
Mai, or even younger. If it were not for the dead serious expression
on her face, he might have fallen for the guise, and if it were not
for her too cute face, he might have mistook her for a boy.

He vaguely heard Ryosei's spoken rules of conduct, which did not
allow the use of any special techniques, chi blasts or magic. Of
course, the last two were all in jest, but somehow he figured they
might apply to Kimiko Nishiyama. Although he had never seen the second
one, he knew that they at least could be possible. What exactly was
included as a chi blast, though, he did not know.

Prepared and set, Ryosei gave the word and the two combatants
stepped up to one another.

"Choose your rules guys," Ryosei told them, looking at Rintaro.

"What do you mean?" Kimiko asked, devoid of stance.

"He means, how are we going to judge who wins," Rintaro explained
calmly, keeping his body completely still. "I prefer knock out, though
others fight by a certain amount of knock downs or even hits. Which
would you prefer, Nishiyama-san?"

Without wasting a single second in thought, Kimiko replied, "Knock
out." Her vibrant blue eyes shined in challenge, one that he gladly
accepted.

"All right," Ryosei announced to the onlookers, which currently
only included Mai, the twins, Reiko, Shintaro and Eiji, although he
had not seen the last two's entrance. The two boys' chatter stopped
the instant Ryosei had spoken. "This is going to be a fight to the
knock out. First one unconscious or to give up, loses. Also, the
fighters have agreed to a clean, no special techniques, no chi blasts
and no magic fight." The last one always brought a few giggles from
Mai and the boys. "Bow, and may the best person win."

With a gracious, low bow, Rintaro formally recognized his
opponent, as she did as well. Stretching out his awareness, he eased
into a casual stance awaiting signals from her. Much like him, she
casually stood across from him as if giving him the word to begin the
match. Somehow he had thought she would be the early aggressor, but
maybe she sought to catch him off guard with a powerful counter
attack. She did have contact with people who knew his general
strategies, so she might have conferred with them about him. But
something told him she had not.

Approaching her cautiously, he watched every breath passing her
lips for any indication of her plan, but received none. Being able to
fight without leaving any implication of the next move was a rare
trait for any fighter to have that he even did not completely possess.
He hoped for his sake that she was not able to keep it up throughout
the whole fight.

Like he initially thought, she simply awaited his move, no
indication of a ready stance or even a bit of tension. If he was going
to attack first, he was going to give her no room for comfort. Only
three feet separated them when he lunged forward attacking her using
his right leg and sweeping viciously, leaving his hands ready for her
counter. As he had planned for her, she boldly stepped out of the
range of his first attack, so close that he swore that his foot caught
her pants leg. The distance was enough to foil any counter she might
have planned and give him the opportunity to attack again.

Almost in the same motion as his sweep kick, he brought the same
foot up into a snap kick, which could have badly bruised her left
thigh had she not disappeared right in front of his eyes. Not giving
himself the luxury of even a millisecond of shock, he rolled forward
and heard her clothes rustle behind him. Had he stood there any
longer, he would have already been down on the mat. Rolling to his
feet, he turned just in time to dodge and block volley of punches,
which would have ravaged his chest a second later.

He took one glance at her eyes and saw determination in them,
cold, hungry and cruel. Even as he glanced at her, her eyes met his as
she carved the air he no longer occupied. Seeing an incredibly small
opening in her attack, he woven himself in close and his fist met her
flesh, but she jerked at the very last second to avoid anything but
the slap of his knuckles. Unfortunately for him, it had been a lure,
for she struck his shoulder hard with chop.

Jumping out of her range, he grinned, realizing his mistake. He
expected a hole in her defense, and she had shown him one. Like a damn
fisherman, she snagged him, hook, line and sinker. If it had not been
for his Breaking Point training, the match would have been over right
then, but because of it, all he had was a numb right arm. Within a
split second, he changed his tactics from looking for holes to making
them. This fight was definitely going to take him to the limits of his
ability, and that by far was worth whatever its consequences held.

Not even letting up for a second, Kimiko attacked again with a
combination of punches and low kicks. Like a master, she executed each
with such seamless precision that it left Rintaro defending without
thought of counter. Putting all of his energy into his blocks, he
began using them as his offensive, leaving each attack with an
annoying, if anything, slap to her arms and legs. It was not easy to
reverse his entire momentum time and time again for the extra sting,
and if he tried to keep it up, he would fall to the ground exhausted.
Fortunately for him, his plan worked, and she withdrew her attacks, a
scowl of pain on her face.

If anything was in his favor, it was tolerance for pain. His far
exceeded that of most, only falling shy of Kenichi's natural
resistance that bordered on complete tolerance. Obviously, hers was
not quite where it needed to be to defeat him. The skin of her arms
felt incredibly soft against his as he had blocked her, innocent to
the rigorous trials of the body he had encountered in his youth. He
had encountered her type before, skilled, fast, but unaccustomed to
being on the receiving end of damage.

Unwilling to let this opportunity slip, Rintaro blazed to the
offensive with ferocious accuracy, each strike ripping through space
towards her. But like a fly evading capture from the hand of a child,
she dodged nearly everything he could send her way, and easily blocked
the rest. His second wave of attacks was nearly as futile as the
first, but with his last strike, he grazed her arm, taking with it
some skin. If she had not realized he would not pull his punches, for
male and female alike, then she did now. He had taken hits like that
in the past. They burned like fire for a few moments, throwing
concentration off a bit.

Winded from his two consecutive, relentless assaults, he fell back
as she began trying to pummel him. Her strikes seemed random, almost
chaotic, but he saw through the guise. Each put him in a more
precarious position, though even a black belt of second dan could
easily repel them. She was as sneaky as his father, Rintaro felt,
unable to stop a few punches from striking his chest and stomach as he
defended his head and legs more rigorously. They were merely glances
against his rock hard abs and equally muscled chest, though. Ceaseless
training did not seem so useless as everyone had told him.

Striking under her arm once as she laid up one of her last strikes
sloppily, he managed to dexterously follow through with a difficult
maneuver his father taught him, and him alone. It was a very intricate
technique, called the "Dead Man's Takedown," to counter punches just
like the one she attacked him with, and he grabbed her arm, twisting
and tangling it with the sleeves of his left arm. The second part of
the technique involved striking the individual in three pressure point
areas then finishing them off with a blow to the head, which he would
exclude this time, and barring the injured person to the floor. He had
used it nearly twenty times in the past, failing only once, the first
time when he had learnt and tried it against his father. Obviously,
the old man knew the only counter to the technique that he had taught
Rintaro.

As if Rintaro was replaying the exact moment his father countered
the difficult move, Kimiko slipped through his technique as easily as
breathing and slammed an open hand into his jaw, followed with three
strikes across his torso and elbowing him in the stomach so hard, a
wave of nausea coursed through his body. Her last strike was like a
powerful shove that sent him sprawling to the floor, sliding to one
side of the mat. For nearly a second, Rintaro boggled in
incomprehension of what had just happened, unable to comprehend that
she knew the counter to one of his favorite incapacitating techniques,
which his father implicitly told him that he had designed and never
told anyone living.

As he quickly flipped to his feet, the sound of cheering broke
through his concentration and assaulted his eardrums. He shot a glance
at the group watching, noticing that even his brother cheered Kimiko's
small victory in this grand scale battle. Completely opposite to what
he would have done, she allowed him the space to get up, without
pressing another attack. Her chivalry would be her undoing if Rintaro
had anything to say about it.

Since she offered it, he took a valuable moment of rest,
recovering his shocked nerves and walling himself within a shell of
pure focus. Again, he picked Kimiko's heartbeat out from among the
others in the room, distinguishing her life essence and marking her so
he could see her without his eyes. Though it seemed an hour to him, it
took less than six seconds for him to recover and march towards her
again.

He expected her to taunt him as a tactic to throw him off guard
again, and easily win. Although it would have failed anyway, and she
had no way to know that, Kimiko did nothing of the sort and simply
stood, waiting as she had at the beginning of their duel. He needed to
rethink his strategy, analyze her defenses again and put her on the
defensive permanently. A quick replay in his mind of the fight up to
that point showed that her defenses and attacks were very similar to
his own in the fact that they had little resemblance to any one art,
but rather were a collection of various moves stripped from their
original context and combined with each other for maximal application.
That left him only his intuition to predict what she could possible
use next.

As for his strategy, except for the failed maneuver that landed
him in such a position, it seemed to have worked soundly enough. He
needed to make her jump into the offensive so that he could cause
damage as he blocked her attacks so that she would be forced to
withdraw again. Unfortunately, he doubted that he would be given a
second chance at that. Instead, her strategy would inevitably shift
from its original course, so that any prediction he might have derived
from the earlier parts of the fight would be moot.

Going right with his anticipation for her to change her strategy,
she attacked him as he was preparing for doing exactly that. To
reverse the momentum of her strikes and counter her, he needed her to
string together a large, predictable combination of punches and kicks,
because it took a lot of time to prepare it. Unfortunately for him,
she struck at him quickly and faded away, even though he did not
intend to strike her back, only to attack from another angle with
another strange combination that halted before he could regain his
bearing.

A kick to his outer thigh forced him to collect his wits for a
counter evasion. As she bore down on him for a fourth assault, he
pushed himself as close as possible to reduce the impact of her
strikes, and he withstood her quick barrage of attacks. His lack of
defense created a giant hole in her offensive strategy, which he used
to spring an attack of his own. With as much strength and momentum as
he could muster, he rained several solid punches to her midsection,
further driving himself towards her. Her soft, weak flesh folded
underneath the might of his attack, though somehow her resistance was
higher than he had initially perceived it. Instead of falling in
writhing agony as he had expected her to, she actually launched a
counter to his counterattack, landing her fists multiple times against
his recovering right arm and catching him square in the jaw with one
solid uppercut.

For both of their sakes, Rintaro temporarily withdrew from their
melee, realizing the ache encompassing his body. Not since he was a
child had he been forced to employ so much effort for a victory
against one opponent. His right arm throbbed madly from repeated
blows, while his jaw probably would not work properly for the rest of
that day and perhaps the next. Although his body absorbed more strikes
than the other two areas, he felt no pain from them.

One look at his opponent told him that he was not alone in his
agony; though, Kimiko did not look well and probably felt worse. With
her left arm wrapped around her waist, she only held one arm out in
defense. Her face was a mask of determination, her eyes glimmering
with ruthless intelligence. While her left sleeve had fallen to her
wrist, the right one was still bundled past her elbow, exposing the
marks marring her attractive complexion.

If he was going to win, he needed to take advantage of her
injuries. With the benefit of speed from the Chestnut fist technique,
he hoped to overwhelm her without actually launching himself into the
full-blown technique, which would be against the rules he had agreed
to. So far, she had stood up to him blow for blow, and neither of them
seemed any worse than the other in his eye. There were only a few
areas he had yet to test, one of which he planned to do now.

Gathering his strength, Rintaro planted his feet into the ground
firmly. Kimiko seemed content to wait for him to begin the next
contest. So with one mighty leap, Rintaro launched himself into the
air. As if it were her second nature, the redhead jumped to meet him
on their aerial battlefield. Life seemed to slow to a crawl as the two
opponents sped towards each other, and every detail of her body
imprinted in his memory, her rippling crimson hair, the thin tear in
her shirt in the seam at her armpit, the look of hardened fighter in
her eyes and her tight sweats forming to every curve of her legs.

Like him, she was at home in the air, for he could read her moves
like his fathers, like his father could read his own. If the school of
Anything Goes Martial arts had one group of techniques that it did not
"borrow" from other schools of combat, it would be the ones developed
for aerial combat. Several of the skills he had been taught were
unique to his school, while most of the others were heavily modified
from their original state. Kimiko Nishiyama had been well schooled in
the Anything Goes style, he knew. There was no other way for her to
know both the aerial combats techniques and the "Dead Man's Takedown."

For a split second, the two lay inches apart from one another,
only separate until their arms and legs became a flurry of movement.
Rintaro watched each punch and kick, blocked them and countered with
some of his own. With all the luck in the world behind him, he tried
one last desperate kick to her shin. He expected to feel the
repercussion of her block, but instead met the flesh and bone and
heard her grunt in pain. Incredibly quick, she angled her body
diagonally away from him, and instead of attacking, she pushed off of
him, sending herself flying in the opposite direction as he began to
fall.

Dramatically flipping himself once, he gracefully landed on his
feet. No more than a second later, Kimiko sorely landed, quickly
falling to a crouch as she winced in pain. Intending to follow up by
attacking her before she had a chance to recover, he nearly tripped
over his own two feet. Bracing himself after his botched lunge, he
hastily withdrew from his tempered concentration. Suddenly flooded
with stimulus, he vaguely heard Kenichi ask Kimiko if she was all
right, to which she waved that she was fine. The two young boys were
yelling some kind of chant, incoherent to him at the moment. He
scanned the dojo, realizing that Auntie Akane stood in the entryway
with his father.

"Are you all right, Rintaro?" Reiko calmly asked him from a few
feet away, off the dojo mat. He wearily turned to her, nodding his
assent. She flashed a smile and he wondered why she even troubled
herself. Of course he was fine, or at least well enough to continue
the fight into the next century if the need should arise. He was only
seriously out of breath.

Easing into a defensive stance, he turned to Kimiko who know
approached him with a very slight limp, favoring her left leg. Sick of
having his every move countered, Rintaro awaited the girl's move.
Perhaps he would have a chance to return a little of the sentiment
before he knocked her senseless.

"Go Kimiko!" Eiji and Shintaro's voices cried out in unison.
No matter whom they cheered for, the outcome would never the less
remain the same. He only hoped that it would be in his favor, because
she was beginning to turn into a sadistic and evil version of the
Energizer bunny. He wondered how much pain she could handle, and he
also wondered if he could deal enough before being knocked unconscious
himself. Time would only tell as their battle raged on.



A dull pain burned in her stomach like a sizzling grill under her
flesh. Nausea had already consumed her concentration and numbed her
senses. The cheer echoed by the two boys seemed far away, as if they
were in another room. Her body was not adjusted to the rigors of
intense combat anymore, although her skill might have improved. The
fact that she could not stand up to her opponent as well as she might
have twenty years ago made that point blatantly evident.

Kimiko had to admit that Rintaro was much more skilled than she
had anticipated. She had not seen his better sense Kiyoshi, and
perhaps Herb, though both of them relied heavily on their chi as well
as their intense skill. He might even have been as good as she was at
his age, though if one had asked her that, she would deny every word.
Although something told her that she would lose to him, she would not
give up, even if that meant being knocked unconscious. Some might have
called it stubbornness or pride, but she knew the truth. It was her
simple duty to herself to fight until her last breath was issued, and
not give up until victory was utterly hers. Neither Rintaro, nor
anyone else would stand in the way of that.

The trip to China would correct her lack of stamina and further
build her ability from the ruins which they had been after she awoke
from the coma. Kiyoshi would see to that for sure. He had trained her
father and Soun so long ago, and though his methods might have
changed, the core essence of the man's true function still remained:
that of the true master of the Anything Goes style of martial arts.
Not only had the ancient man forged the school, but he was also the
epitome of a martial artist now. Strong, cunning, wise and most
shockingly of all, honorable, Kiyoshi Nishiyama over-shadowed his
former existence like a sky scrapper blocking sunlight from spilling
upon a farmer's outhouse.

"Stop letting your mind wander. Concentrate on nothing but your
opponent, and you will find your center. Breath slowly so he cannot
time his strikes to your body's rhythm." The teachings of her father
and Kiyoshi seemed to meld into one voice in Kimiko's head. "If you
are not at peace, if you are at war with yourself, than how can your
attacks be effective against your opponent? Find your center, Ranma.
Find your peace, Kimiko. Calmly reach into yourself and you will find
the energy you need to win." She had been instructed by two very
different men to do the exact same thing, but she rarely could see
past their words to look into the meaning. She had to stop fighting
herself so that she could fight her enemy, but it had never been so
obvious before. Often when she had to call the energy she needed, it
had simply been there, her unconscious and focused attention upon the
enemy rather than her own problems.

Their voices slowly faded, placing her in reality once more,
allowing her to finish the battle she had begun, providing the method
to come out on top. Time had spared her not a second more, because
Rintaro was already roaring towards her with the ferocity of a tiger.
Unable to do more than react, she released her grip over her sore
belly and defended with all of her strength, avoiding his attack more
warily than she thought she had been, while carefully observing every
one of his attacks, hoping that he would ditch his defense in an
attempt to defeat her.

In one continuous chain of fury, Rintaro proved that he had
exhausted neither himself nor his repertoire in the earlier stages of
their fight. His first combination of punches were very easy to block,
but he did not let up his attacks even for a split second. Like a
slowly accelerating train, he became an unstoppable force, one that
she was far too small to derail. A powerful chop broke through her
defense and grazed her forearm, and even then he continued his
exhausting onslaught. He attacked her head, torso and legs all at once
it seemed, driving her from the center of the mat towards the dojo's
exit. Somehow, a blast struck her hip and knocked her off balance,
followed by another punch to her left shoulder, both of which sent her
back peddling. She simply had no chance to defend his staggering punch
aimed straight towards her stomach. Gasping as the breath shot from
her lungs, she stumbled, leaning forward with shocked pain.

In one torturously slow moment, she realized the vulnerability of
the position she involuntarily fell into. With her head down and
unprotected, a single strike there could lead to unconsciousness and
defeat. She knew that he would exploit it, for even a novice knew
maneuvers that could easily incapacitate a foe in such a position. The
one she knew that he would use, for he was entirely too predictable
with his finishing moves, and in fact it was one that she preferred to
use on opponents, the axe kick.

Simply explained, the axe kick involved bringing your chosen foot
up and around the victim's lowered head in a half circle, pausing
right above the back of it. Wielding the momentum created by that, you
would then drive the heel of your foot into the back of their cranium.
A concussion such as that was enough to even send a hardheaded bastard
like Ryouga down for the count. Though the kick could be performed in
a very short amount of time, especially if you were prepared to use
it, it was marginally slower than a number of the other finishing
moves, which unfortunately only had half its power.

As she had predicted, Rintaro began the ascent of his left foot
around the left side of her in a less than perfect semi-circle,
beginning a reversed axe kick. Between his rushed and sloppy kick, his
decision to reverse the technique and his general exhaustion, Rintaro
gave Kimiko just enough time to haphazardly throw herself to the
right. The hiss of his foot slicing through the space her head had
occupied and the later sound of his foot skimming the mat was sweet to
her ears as she landed on her right shoulder, rolling to the side,
well away from Rintaro's immediate follow up attack. Halting mere
inches from the edge of the mat and the place where the spectators
sat, she rested on her tender forearms, tired knees and sore toes, the
only things keeping her from falling onto her chest, dead asleep.

As if tired by hundreds of push-ups, she haggardly got to her
feet. Her whole body ached similarly, worn to its limit and beaten far
past it. Even as she balanced herself on her own two feet, watching
Rintaro wearily approach, she knew that this fight was reaching its
conclusion. To be defeated here in front of so many whose respect she
valued would be very humiliating. She had rushed into this fight, not
expecting the degree of skill Rintaro had displayed, nor mentally
prepared for such a drawn out fight, part of her still in shock over
the kiss and the hallucination.

If she had her old durability and stamina, the young man she faced
would not be walking towards her quite as well as he did now, a mask
of frenzied determination still worn on his face. The words of her
teachers echoed in her mind again, reminding them of their priceless
lessons. Quite plainly, if she did not gather her chi to strengthen
both her blows and defenses, the cold mat would be growing warm with
the heat of her soft flesh. Chi, the life force flowing through her
body and everything living, was harnessed by people in even the
smallest of tasks, though it usually was so minute that it was hardly
worth noticing. With every move she made, Kimiko harnessed both her
own energy and that which surrounded her, as did the best fighters
that she had faced. It was an unconscious thing on her part, but to
call more than that would not be. Energy required energy and a little
time, both of which she might not have.

Remembering how she had found it the first time in her pursuit to
learn the deceptively easy Blast Fist, she wrapped herself in layers
of calm, uncaring emotion. It was not quite as hard as it had been
before, and she was lucky, because Rintaro pounced. As spry as if she
received a second wind, Kimiko evaded his attack, surprising him with
one of her own. A chi-strengthened roundhouse kick pounding into
Rintaro's back certainly dispelled any thoughts he might have had of
defeating her then. Following through, she dropped and spun, having
completed the circle of her kick, and swept his legs from under him
with a powerful swipe. Relying upon dozens of years of falling
techniques, in which she knew he would have been well schooled, he
harmlessly fell to his back and rolled backwards to his feet. Not
quite as lively as he had been before, Rintaro simply looked weary.

With no intention of giving him even a moment to recover, she
lunged forward, blurring her movement with chi-imbued speed. Had this
been a street fight, Kimiko would have finished him with a Chestnut
fist. Since she did not have that option, or the energy to do it, she
ended her lunge with a sprawling punch to his abdomen, and then spun,
knocking him across the dojo using her momentum for a vicious spin-
kick. Dropping into a guarded stance, she watched him sail several
yards and land on the mat, to slide across it to its end, stopping as
his head met the padded wall. With the eerie calm still holding her
fatigue at bay, she neutrally stared at him. She did not feel the pain
she should have as she walked to check his condition with hope that
the battle was now ended.

Ryosei beat her to him as he rushed past her, his ponytail
flopping around. The young man put a hand on Rintaro's shoulder,
shaking him to see if he still remained conscious. To everyone's
surprise but Kimiko's, Rintaro swatted the hand from his shoulder and
pushed himself to his feet. The pony tailed boy jumped back out of the
way as Rintaro pushed past him.

Her vision had never seemed as clear as it did then, and every
single detail of Rintaro's sweaty face appeared closer with more
distinct. Slight bags darkened the skin under his pale blue eyes which
glowed with something she knew must have glowed in her own at times,
determination. Unlike her normal assembly of opponents, he seemed just
as calm as she, just as ready to fight until the battle reaped a
victor. His ashen lips curved ever so slightly downward in a perpetual
frown, as if he smiled as much as he lost fights, only on a blue moon.
His black brows stressed his nonchalant attitude, unmoving and
straight.

Somehow, she knew he was employing a similar technique that she
now used to remain standing, but how long had he been manipulating his
chi to act as a buffer between her fists and his body? Chi reserves
were like the gasoline tanks in cars, some were deeper than others and
they tended to run out before you even realized that it had happened.
Pieces started fitting themselves together in her mind. If he had been
using the same chi defense technique all along, her blows would have
been drastically weakened by his life force. The main questions were
how long had he been using it, and more importantly, how much did he
have left. Hope suddenly threatened to break her shield of uncaring
calm as she realized that she might still be able to win.

Unfortunately, there were no gas stations for chi, and once someone
expended their share they were as good as unconscious.

Like a bullet, Rintaro shot towards her, negating his defense for
another offense, one which would not be so successful if Kimiko had
any say in the matter. Two titans clashed in the center of the mat,
surrounded by unheard cheers and unnoticed concern from their
spectators. Her total focus was upon him, every move, every breath,
and as he began his assault, she saw her opening. As he attempted to
strike, she took a reckless chance and countered, slamming her fist
under and past his arm, striking the region between his left pit and
left breast. It did not even faze him, and she was forced to dodge her
head right, avoiding his right fist. As the blow passed her, she took
the advantage of his weight being shifted so far forward, and grabbed
a handful of his hair. Revenge for the pain he caused her earlier was
a bitch, especially when she drove her left knee into his face.

Maneuvers like that were last-ditch efforts to avoid losing, and
he had used several earlier that would have been questionable for a
sparring match. This obviously was not a sparring match. It was a
challenge. Challenges were met with full force. She definitely did not
feel so bad about it when he bashed her with his left shoulder,
pushing it upwards into her left breast. Pain nearly shattered the chi
barrier drawn around herself, but she ignored it focusing on defeating
this tank. With her right foot, she brought it to the side and drove
her heel into his left thigh.

Kimiko sent Rintaro to the floor like a puppet with its strings
cut with one well-placed kick, but he landed well and quickly rolled
to his feet, well before Kimiko could stabilize herself. The young man
winced as he stood straight, nearly falling to the floor again.
Suddenly as if reality had broken through his veil of fighting, he
looked confused, tired and very hurt. Kimiko saw it in his eyes as he
fought to stand and face her: pain. He had taken the fight so casually
and unconcerned up to this point that she had wondered if he was
human. Now, with his chi burnt, his defense down and his vulnerability
peaked, she could win. In less than ten seconds, she could bring him
to his knees and safely knock him unconscious.

Unfortunately, it was ten seconds she might not have. As if she
had just noticed her fuel gauge read empty, Kimiko's teeth chattered
with the effort to maintain her energy. Ten seconds or no ten seconds,
she lunged forward, more from imbalance than effort, and struck
forward with a punch, which he managed to block. Her knees gave out as
blackness assaulted her vision, and she concentrated a punch to his
stomach as she descended to the mat. She felt the resistance of his
stomach muscles give way and the sudden ache of her fist.

More pain flooded her body as her head slapped to the mat. It was
a delayed reaction from all the stress her body endured while in her
chi-invoked frenzy. She felt so very tired as the cool mat rubbed
against her cheek as her head finally rested in place. There seemed to
be nothing left, not even a little energy so that she could push
herself up and claim victory. Though she was utterly drained, somehow
she managed to draw her arms up and push herself a few feet off the
floor. Her arms, not to mention her whole body, felt dead tired, and
they began to buckle under her weight. Collapsing for the last time,
she managed to roll over her right arm and onto her back.

The burning white light of the dojo did not bother her eyes much
for they were closing of their own accord. Euphoria rushed through her
body, the elation of release from prolonged stress. Had she the
strength, she would have been shaking, having spent so long with
adrenaline flooding her veins. The pain felt worlds away as she began
to drift to unconsciousness.

* * *

Pride swelled through Genma Saotome as he watched the fight
continue, though both fighters had already fallen in pain several
times. He felt the pride for his son, although the boy did not live up
to all his expectations, but most of all, he took joy that the
daughter of his lost son was only as strong as he hoped she could be.
There was little to no doubt in his mind now about her identity. No
one else living other than a Saotome could have taught her half of the
moves she was using now.

Taking a seat near his youngest son, Genma watched the two trade
blows once more. It still amazed him how strong his granddaughter was.
She was at least a capable match for Rintaro and was more than any two
of the other children, all who had been tutored under Akane, Soun,
Shampoo, Ryouga, Mousse and himself. Ranma had turned Kimiko into a
fierce fighter who could probably give one of the adults a run for
their money. It pleased him infinitely to see that his training of
Ranma had turned Ranma's daughter into the fighter that she had
become.

"I know that plotting look in your eyes, Uncle Genma," Akane
whispered into his ear after she had sat down next to him. He turned
to face her, smiling innocently, as innocently as he could manage
anyway, but it only made him look like a child caught with his hand
stuck in the candy jar.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Akane," he replied, lying
through his teeth. She stared at him wryly, her arms crossed over her
chest.

Genma turned back to the fight for a moment, wondering what he
really was planning. He and Soun had talked about Kimiko, or more
precisely drank themselves into a stupor, until the early hours of the
morning, but they never once discussed what they were going to do,
only about how wonderful things had become. All he knew was that he
needed to contact young Kiyoshi Nishiyama and extract whatever
information he could on the situation.

It was well known that Nobukazu Nishiyama had never had children
of his own, but instead relied on adoption to sate his need to be a
father. Since the man had always been so wonderful with children, it
was too bad his relationships with women never amounted to anything.
Genma imagined the fortune one of his own could have inherited had
their children been promised with Nobukazu's.

Therefore, Nobukazu had somehow adopted Kimiko in the United
States, likely where Ranma had fled. Did that mean his son was dead?
Or maybe Ranma and Nobukazu had trained the girl, and Nobukazu alone
had brought her up? It was entirely too confusing, but the point
remained that Kimiko Nishiyama had to be a Saotome, and Ranma had to
have trained her. Nothing else could fill in the blanks as well as
that answer did. Had Genma been sent twenty years into the past, he
would have been watching Ranma's girl half fight his boy half.

"Do you really think that she's his, Uncle?" Akane asked him
softly, not allowing herself to be overheard by prying ears. "Even if
they do look alike, I'm sure it could be a coincidence."



"No one else could have taught her those moves," Genma replied,
studying Kimiko as he spoke the words. No one else could have carried
out those moves either, he thought silently to himself. Even after the
beating she had received, she still fought with equal ferocity. If she
and Rintaro continued this match as they were, they would both have to
be carried to bed. He could not have been any more proud.

"I think you're right," Akane whispered with a sigh, sounding
incredibly depressed. "I was only foolishly hoping it couldn't be so."
Genma looked at her, realizing the pain she must be feeling finding
out that someone she had loved so long ago had a child with someone
other than her. He felt the pain himself that Ranma had not told
anyone. He had already forgiven the boy, but he wondered if Akane
could ever forgive him. Twenty years was enough to diminish the pain,
not extinguish it.

Putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, Genma continued
watching the fight. He could not think of anything to console her pain
and remained silent instead. So caught in their glee, he and Soun had
forgotten about Akane's feelings, and everyone else's for that matter.
When Kimiko had left the group of adults, Nodoka had immediately
pointed out Kimiko's resemblance to Ranma. Tofu agreed after a moment
of thought, though the rest of them left their agreement unspoken. His
wife had left it at that and went to help Shampoo in the kitchen,
since Akane had given up wasting ingredients, which left the three men
and Akane. He and Akane left to watch the fight after she had helped
Kimiko slip into something dry, while Tofu and Soun played shoji.

"We should stop this fight," Akane told him, wincing as Kimiko
barely dodged Ryosei's axe kick.

"Why should we do that?" Genma asked, honestly confused.

"One of them might get hurt," she replied, glaring at him.
"They're taking this way too seriously for a casual sparring session."

"I don't see why-" he began when Akane's jaw dropped in
astonishment. Genma raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Watch the fight, baka," Akane muttered, pointing at Kimiko. "I
think she got a second wind."

Genma curiously turned to the fight, and indeed, she walked with
vigor in her steps that had not been there moments ago. His son
approached her without caution and that made Genma want to slap the
boy for making such a stupid mistake. Dodging the careless boy's
attack, Kimiko nailed his son with a roundhouse kick, and then ducked
low and spun, sweeping his legs from under him and knocking him to the
mat.

"I think your son's going to lose," Akane told him dryly. Genma
knew the outcome of this fight, even before it began. His son, Ranma,
burned within Kimiko, Genma knew then, as Rintaro rolled to his feet.
She darted towards the boy so fast that she blurred for a moment
before unleashing a volley of attacks on Rintaro, who at the end flew
head first towards where other kids were sitting. They had to jump out
of the way to let Rintaro slide to a halt as his head bumped the wall.

The elderly man watched the girl of whom he believed to be his
granddaughter walk very slowly, one step at a time towards his fallen
son. Such calm and such discipline, Genma thought with mirth. He
turned back to his son who was just pushing himself to his feet.
Rintaro would most certainly try to finish the fight now, before he
took any more damage, Genma felt. The way Kimiko stood across from him
made him uneasy. She was not even gasping for breath like she had been
earlier. It was almost as if she were refreshed completely sometime
during the fight.

His son lanced towards her, still unmindful of Genma's teachings.
He should have learned that he had no chance to defeat her with any
straightforward attacks, the elder chastised internally, especially
after the beating the boy received. As much as he wanted his son to
not be defeated, Genma wanted Kimiko to win more. She was proof that
his son, Ranma, had not been a failure, no matter what had happened in
the end. His eldest must have trained this fiery little girl before
him. His heart pumped quickly as the thought sent warmth flowing
through his body. Children were a father's second chance at life, to
become the people they were not.

The two fighters moved so quickly that Genma could not distinguish
one attack from another, and then Kimiko's knee pummeled Rintaro's
face.

"Oh, God," Akane whispered, putting a hand on Genma's shoulder.

Placing his hand atop hers, Genma kept his eyes on the fight.
"They boy will be all right."

Following with his words, Rintaro bashed Kimiko with his shoulder,
but she barely even registered the blow only stepping back to regain
her balance, though he heard a collective gasp from the female
audience. Even Akane hissed, muttering, "That'll hurt in the morning."
The next second, Rintaro fell straight to the ground, barely able to
roll back from his assailant. Genma saw his face as he rose, pale and
haggard, exhaustion perceptible on his face. The old man knew that his
son was finished for the day.

Just as surprising as his son's upset, Kimiko stumbled forward in
a botched attempt to rush Rintaro. The dark-haired boy swung his fists
poorly, just missing as Kimiko fell underneath his blow, and then fell
back as Kimiko's final punch was delivered to his stomach. He fell
backwards to the mat only a split second after Kimiko did.

"Kimiko!" A voice yelled. As Genma had begun to stand, he watched
Kenichi dart over the mat and slide to his knees at Kimiko's left
side. Akane passed Genma on his right and quickly walked over to his
son's side, while he slowly padded over the cool surface of the blue
mat to the downed warriors.

Was it a tie, then? Genma wondered to himself.

"Rintaro's out cold," Akane told them, gingerly draping a hand
over the boy.

They all turned as Kimiko began to push herself from the mat, her
arms straining against the exhaustion, but she fell over and landed on
her back, her narrow eyes fighting to remain open. As she closed her
eyes, unconscious, a smile flushed Genma's face. She had won.



As Kimiko's body shuddered one last time, her eyes fighting
against the wave of blackness washing upon her consciousness, Kenichi
knelt by her side, and caressed her soft cheek with the back of his
finger tips. Her breath was stable but slowed, and she looked so
peaceful, so innocent, and so harmless. Appearances were deceiving,
because he knew that had she not exhausted herself so, she would have
been able to disable him even in the vulnerable position that she lay
in now. He smiled thinking about that, because he had never seen her
like.

How many days have I known her? He wondered to himself. Three?
What was three days that made him fall so terribly in love with her?
She was his Juliet, and he her Romeo, in his mind, but he wanted to
know whether Juliet loved Romeo. They shared the moment in the
airport, exchanging names, the starry night before he wished her good-
bye, and now the kiss. Did any of them mean anything to her? He could
not help pondering.

Kenichi looked up to see his sister and Ryosei lifting Rintaro's
unconscious body.

"Damn, he's heavy," Mayako complained, lifting the young man by
his shoulders.

"I offered to take that side, ya know," Ryosei quipped, holding a
leg under each arm.

"I can do it!" Mayako snapped, allowing Ryosei to lead him out of
the dojo.

Just then, Kenichi felt someone tapping his shoulder. He turned
and muttered, "Huh?"

"Need help with her?" Akane asked, gesturing towards the girl in
front of him, with a wry smile on her face.

Shaking his head vigorously, Kenichi quickly moved to lift Kimiko
up. Sliding his right hand under to support her shoulders, he, with
more than a little embarrassment, slid the other under her butt to
support the other side. Expecting to lift more weight than she had, he
applied too much pressure into hoisting her up than he should have,
nearly falling over backwards as he stood tried to balance himself.

"You all right, Kenichi?" his mother asked slyly as he regained
his balance.

"Of course," he replied. "She doesn't weight nearly as much as I
thought she would."

With an all-knowing grin, his mother took a step to stand in front
of him. "She's a girl. What did you expect?" Kenichi wisely kept
silent. Taking Kimiko's arm, she rested it on the girl's chest with
the other to keep it from dangling as Kenichi walked. She then took a
step back and turned to exit the dojo. Kenichi followed, carrying his
soft, not-quite-heavy weight.

Kimiko's soft breath tickled Kenichi's neck as he carried her out
of the dojo and into the house. He smiled warmly at her, as if it
could somehow reach her in her unconscious state. Her rapid eye
movement caught his attention for a second, but he disregarded it as
he took her up the steps, still following his mother, and down the
hall to stop at his room.

"Mind if we put her in your bed for now, Kenichi?" Akane asked her
son as she took the doorknob of his door. The boy shook his head in
response to his mother's question. "Good, because I think Mayako and
Ryosei already placed Rintaro in her bed." Without another word, she
opened his door and walked inside where the lamps promptly began
spilling light into the dark room.

"Where do you want me to put this stuff?" Akane asked with her
hands on her hips.

Kenichi looked over to where his mother was referring. He had left
a mess of his paints all over his bed, a pad of sketch paper and some
colored pencils. "Just put them on the ground in the corner."

While Akane began clearing his bed, Kenichi shifted Kimiko to hold
her in a more comfortable position. In response, she mumbled and
carelessly wrapped her arms around his neck, almost as if she were
awake, ready to pull him into a kiss. His heart skipped a beat as she
snuggled up to him. With her eyebrows furrowed in frustration and a
cute frown on her face, she whispered one word. In fact, it was a
name. "Juniji."

As he wondered who that might be, his mother turned to face him
with a scowl on her face. "What is it, Mom?" With her left hand on her
hip, Akane pointed at his bed. Taking a step forward, he looked down
at the green comforter and noticed the large black stain in its
center. With a sheepish smile, he shrugged.

"There is a reason we bought you a desk, Kenichi."

As if contemplating the matter, Kenichi hummed aloud. "I think it
looks better this way."

Rolling her eyes, his mother tugged the comforter from the top of
his bed and turned it over. Smoothing it out and tucking it in with
the swift expertise that only a mother can have, she quickly made the
bed ready for use. Patting the bed with her right hand, Akane motioned
for him to lay Kimiko down. Kenichi did as he was instructed and then
gingerly placed the pillow beneath her head. He then took a blanket
from underneath his bed and rested it over her, tucking her in. It
took no more than five seconds for the redhead to begin snoring
softly.

"I'm going to go check on Rintaro," Akane told him, resting on
hand on his shoulder.

"Okay," he replied softly, standing as she turned to leave.
The door closed with a click, signaling his mother's exit. Sitting
on his knees, Kenichi watched silently as the redhead slept soundly.
Her chest gently rose and fell, as seconds became minutes. The steady
ticking of his old-fashioned wall clock went unnoticed. Kenichi pushed
his fingers through his short-cropped black hair, feeling the dampness
from his shower earlier. Although all was still, his heart beat
quickly.

Sliding over to the bed, Kenichi leaned over and rested his chin
and elbows on its edge. Just then, Kimiko turned in her sleep, resting
her head less than a foot from his face. If only I could lean forward
and kiss her, Kenichi thought to himself. She seemed so real with her
mouth slightly ajar, a very slight whistle sounding from her nose and
an occasional snore heard from her mouth, but she still was a fantasy
to him. Inwardly, he knew that he would never kiss her when she was
not conscious, but only because she would not be able to savor it with
him. Leaning closer, he felt his body tremble slightly as his lips
pressed against her forehead.

As if reacting to Kenichi as he withdrew his kiss, Kimiko arched
her head back and ever so softly whispered, "I love you." If her eyes
had been open, he might have believed the words had been spoken to
him. Although they were not, the simple notion of it sent him reeling
back onto his rear, hands pressed to the wood floor. He watched as she
wedged her hands between her head and the pillow, whispering too low
to hear.

Realizing that he needed to leave her before she drove him mad
desire, Kenichi stood and left his room, closing the door behind him.
Pausing at the door to Mayako's room before he walked down the stairs,
he knocked softly.

"Come in," Mayako's voice sounded from within.

Cracking the door open, Kenichi peeked in as soft lamplight
spilled out of the room. His sister stood nearby, while his mother
leaned over Rintaro who lay asleep on the bed. Quietly stepping
through the doorway, he smiled at his sister.

"What is it, brother?" Mayako asked meekly, smiling back. He knew
why her mood was changed for the better. She had lived in Rintaro's
shadow -- or so she had whined to him many times -- for so long, that
she probably felt that his defeat was just.

"I just came to check on'im," he replied, peering past her at
Rintaro. "Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Akane told him warmly.

"Cool," Kenichi responded with nod. With nothing left to say, he
turned and left the room, walking downstairs, through the hall and
into the living room.

Nearly everyone in his extended family sat in the room, making it
appear quite crowded. He took in the scene before entering, and
realized that even his Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Mousse had shown up
already, as they both sat on Kenichi's left with his Uncle Genma and
Tofu, and his Grandfather, all talking between themselves. Nearer to
the dining table, Mai sat on Reiko's lower back, giving the older girl
a massage. Between the adults and the girls, Ryosei was playing a game
of shoji with Shintaro and Eiji, although none of them, including
Ryosei, knew the rules of the game. Noise from the kitchen signaled
that Aunt Shampoo and Aunt Nodoka were most likely at work.

Walking over to the two girls, Kenichi plopped down beside them.
Mai turned and smiled shyly, though Reiko seemed oblivious to him.
Mayako's hands methodically rubbed the older girl's exposed back and
shoulders with the skill of a professional, and he knew she was,
because he could hear the quiet moans uttered by Reiko.

"Wanna go next?" Mai asked him while she continued Reiko's deep
massage.

"Sure," he accepted. "Tell me when you're done." Mai nodded.

Sliding over to Ryosei and the boys, he sat. The pony tailed boy
turned to face Kenichi with a grin, his eyes filled with mischief. It
was that look in his eyes that got the both of them detention last
year when Ryosei decided to skip school and bring Kenichi with him.
How could he have said no when Ryosei offered to pay for his
admittance into the fair that day?

"What?" Kenichi asked dubiously.

"You're the man," Ryosei told him with that grin still on his
face. "I can't believe my best friend has already got to first base
with a chick!"

Somehow, Kenichi knew that Ryosei would find out, but so soon?
"Who told you?" He realized he sounded a little annoyed, but could not
help it.

"Rintaro saw ya both in the koi pond," Ryosei said, tugging his
ponytail. Turning to the boys who did their father and grandfather
proud by completely reworking the face of the board to their
advantage, as if it mattered any to him any, Ryosei moved a random
piece in a random direction. "So, you're really hooked on this girl."

Of course it would be Rintaro, Kenichi thought as he nodded to
Ryosei's statement.

"Man, if you marry her, you'll go broke," Ryosei said, moving
three more pieces, further proving that the two boys and he were in
the same division of shoji players.

"Why do you say that?" Kenichi asked perplexed by Ryosei's
statement. It almost matched with Rintaro's warning earlier that day,
counseling him not to mess with the redhead at all. "Why would I go
broke?"

"She eats as much as Uncle Genma," Ryosei whispered in hushed
tones. Kenichi was almost glad that the boy did not say it too loud,
but when he added, "Plus, you're not a good enough martial artist to
make any real cash," Kenichi gave up trying to take his friend
seriously.

"That must be it," Kenichi mumbled.

"Yeah, but at least you'll be happy," Ryosei said, moving another
piece on the board.

Almost scared to hear his answer, Kenichi asked, "Why's that?"

Feigning to be stunned by Kenichi's need for clarification, Ryosei
arched an eyebrow. "Need you ask?" Kenichi nodded, causing him shake
his head in exasperation. His reply came as a whisper, but with good
reason. "Have you checked out her body? My God man, you can't ask for
a better butt. And have you see those breasts? Jeez, I always thought
you were blind to the opposite sex, but this is ridiculous."

A tap on his shoulder nearly made him jump in surprise. He turned,
ignoring Ryosei, and faced Mai. "Your turn, Kenichi!" she piped with a
smile. Following her back to where Reiko had been lying, Kenichi
prostrated himself.

He felt Mai's small hands lift his shirt back past his shoulders,
sliding her hands against his bare skin, sending a shiver down his
spine. She then climbed over him and sat on his lower back, gently
pressing her bare thighs, exposed by her shorts, into his ribs.
Ignoring everything else as she began, he rested his head on his right
arm and closed his eyes. Her dexterous hands started to work on his
shoulders, sending ripples of warmth through him.

Between her mother and her father, Mai had obtained some of their
more favorable skills. Dr. Tofu was one of the best chiropractors in
Japan, and her mother was definitely one to go to for learning any
type of pressure points. It was no small wonder that she had become
such a talented masseuse. If there was one thing he liked most about
Mai, it was her ability to mix the best features of everything she was
taught and find another application for it. Neither Dr. Tofu, nor
Shampoo were this good, as their professions and skills led them to
different uses for their talents.

As she applied her thumbs to pressure points, he felt the tension
releasing and sighed very softly. Imagining that it was Kimiko
massaging him instead of Mai, he smiled, though his arm hid his face.
An image of her began to form as she had been in the koi pond,
virtually attached to him. He had felt so alive in her arms. It was as
if he lived to exist for that moment in time, to feel so close to
someone, to share so much without words. Her crystalline green eyes
shining brilliantly in the sunlight still confused him, but he tried
not to think about it, although he distinctly remembered them being
deep blue.

A very interesting thought occurred to him then as Mai worked his
lower back. He might never get a second chance if he did not act upon
his instincts, but the girl on his back was persuasion enough to wait
another few minutes. The one aspect of Kenichi Tendou that never
seemed to turn off would not leave him alone for a moment, and now it
was screaming for him to act.

The sound his sister made next completely stole Kenichi's
attention. It was a mix of pleasure and surprise that took his
concentration as he looked up to face her shins.

"I'm next!" Mayako exclaimed, sitting down directly in front of
Kenichi, crossing her legs.

"Okay," Mai chirped, not letting up the massage for even a second.

"Got tired of taking care of your lover boy?" Kenichi teased,
resting his chin on his clasped hands.

"I could never get tired of seeing Rintaro beaten up," she replied
smartly, patting his head. "I'm surprised you got tired of taking care
of your lover girl."

Kenichi intelligently remained silent to the remark as Mai turned
herself around, sliding every inch of her bare legs across his back.
He thought nothing of it as she began massaging his legs.

"Are you planning to go out with her anytime soon?" Mayako asked
quietly, playfully ruffling his hair.

"I haven't asked," he replied honestly, wishing he had asked her
already. "Why?"

"Just curious," she said, poking his forehead. "I mean, you've
already kissed her and you haven't even gone out yet."

Grabbing her hand, Kenichi pulled his sister close enough for him
to whisper his message. "Don't spread that around, okay?"

Shaking his hand reassuringly, she replied, "Sure, sure. I
wouldn't have anyway. I was just making a point." As if it were any
encouragement, she added, "Don't fret. It's me!"

"That's why I asked," he told her, deadpan. "I have your word."

"Done," Mai told him, turning around again. She then dragged his
shirt down his back slowly, causing him to squirm uncomfortably as she
brushed a ticklish spot. "You're cured, Kenichi." She then stood up,
giving him space to stand.

"Thanks, Mai," he told her as he pushed himself to his feet, and
then hugged her. "That felt great."

"Oh, no problem," Mai sighed as Kenichi released her.

"My turn!" Mayako asserted, quickly lying where Kenichi had been
before.

With a smile, Kenichi turned and left the living room, waving to
his Aunt Kasumi who smiled at him as he passed into the hall.
Sprinting up the stairs, he quickly rushed into his room, closing the
door as he entered. Kimiko lied there twisted in the blankets and with
one arm hanging over the bed. He chuckled softly as he quickly
gathered the supplies and colors that he would need for this project.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would give his full one hundred
percent effort. The redhead's image deserved nothing but the best.
Since it was still late noon, he figured that he had plenty of time to
at least finish the preliminaries before night descended.

Already scratching away on a pad of paper, Kenichi submitted to
the demands of his insatiable imagination.

* * *

Darkness surrounded me completely, and there was no light. I felt
myself floating in that void, but I knew that it was real, and that I
was real. An unnatural lethargy coursed through me, making my thoughts
disjointed and blurred. In an attempt to focus my energy, I tried to
mentally picture Akane, but all that I could manage was an image,
which was so poor it looked like I was staring through a foggy glass
window to see it.

I racked my brain for something, trying to think of an
explanation. Confusion was all I could find. Bits and pieces of
memories floated by, but made no sense and left me with more questions
than answers. I knew myself, at least, but where was I?

Kimiko Nishiyama, I thought, reciting my name, hoping the sound of
it would unlock something. But no, that was not right. It sounded
right, but it just did not click, or help. If only I was not so tired,
I might have been able to pull myself from wherever I was trapped.
Paralysis was the least of my problems though, because I could not
sense anything, not even my own body, though I knew it was there.

A thought occurred to me then, as I floated somewhere beyond the
physical world. This is familiar, I thought. This has happened before.
I know this feeling. Lady Sun Li. Juniji. I remembered those names,
and the episode between them. There had been a moment in between my
reality and theirs where I was trapped, floating like I floated now.
Maybe I was on the black, empty path to another. At least I hoped that
was the case, because it was much better than nothing, than the
emptiness I was stuck within now.

I could not have been any more correct as a warm light out of the
corner of my vision appeared, beginning its approach. Noise, like the
sound of running through thick brush, echoed in the distance,
originating from the approaching beacon of dreams and memories. It
steadily drew closer until I could feel its edges, escaping heat from
a warm body and thick beads of sweat. It smelled too, like heavy
perspiration and unshowered bodies.

Though I had recognized it for what it was, I was wrong in the
assumption that it was approaching. In fact, it was pulling me towards
it with hands of luminescence, its life-giving arms enwrapping me.
Thoughts and emotions hit me first, like a jackhammer smashing my
skull with information, paramount among it, absolute fear. Slowly,
like before, I became aware. The soreness of my legs came next, along
with oxygen deprived lungs, weary from exertion. Sweat covered my brow
and drenched my hair as the exhaustion became entirely too evident.

I was running, forever running, to where I knew not. The sun had
set long ago, for the darkness of night shadowed the land, one that
moonlight did not even penetrate. With my arm outstretched, I held the
hand of another who pulled me forward, faster than I could run. I had
tripped before, and the knee of my left leg was skinned. The figure in
front of me was nothing more than a blur that held my hand tightly.

"Please hurry!" he urged, yanking me with the intensity of his
words as well as his hand. It was Juniji's voice. I remembered it from
before.

"I am!" I -- or rather, Sun Li -- shouted back, tears beginning to
flow down her cheeks. The danger was near, and time was running out.
Again I was trapped in another, doomed to her fate, rather than being
able to control mine.

A savage cry tore the air from behind them, and its maniacal,
blood-crazed pitch injected pure terror into her heart. Only a few
times in my life have I experienced such a maddening drive, although
this time it was not mine. I had to remember that as Sun Li
desperately ran, carrying me along for the ride.

With frightening suddenness, they entered a well-lit clearing.
Everything stopped at once, like someone had pressed the pause button,
though Sun Li's heart raced as she gasped for air. Her vision cleared
somewhat, enough to make out the details in my immediate surroundings.
No more than twenty feet in front of them, a wooden sign hung high
above their heads, suspended between two wooden posts. Beyond that,
water twinkled in the pale moonlight, a break in the clouds
surrounding the region ahead.

Our two souls in unison recognized the ancient, cursed place.
Juniji urged her forward, but against his strong pull, she stood fast.

"What?" The young warrior turned, his eyes wide and desperate.
"Why do you stop?"

"We cannot enter there!" Sun Li exclaimed, returning the look in
his eyes.

"Why in the name of gods not?" he demanded, twisting to look at
the radiant springs ahead.

"That's Jusenkyou!" she cried. She knew that he would need further
explanation, so she hurriedly continued. "It is cursed, the home of
many demons and evil beings! It is part of the forbidden land, the
heart of it!"

"I do not care if it is hell itself!" he yelled back, anger
contorting his features. "I will not let you, let alone I, die in this
miserable region of the Earth! You will follow me by foot or over my
shoulder!" When he pulled her again, she ceased her resistance,
unwilling to give him up, even against all the demons of Jusenkyou,
not when they were so close to fulfilling their dreams.

His mad dash was too much for her as he ran past the spring-filled
valley, and he ended up picking her up in his arms anyway. With his
speed so drastically decreased and the time lost from her interlude of
protest, the enemy was almost upon them, for the voice of one man
cried out in maddened fury.

Juniji quickly placed Sun Li on the ground and drew his sword, all
in one movement it seemed to me. He turned just in time to ward the
attack of his opponent. The dance of two blades had begun with the
ferocity of the attacker. The only thing the warrior could do at first
was defend, parrying the intense slashes launched at him. I could not
see the person even with the moonlight shining down from above, though
perhaps I did not want to.

Fatigue and fear overwhelmed us, Sun Li and I, and she fell on her
rear, far enough from the battle to be safe for a time. With her eyes
glued to the battle, she breathed for dear life, each inhale paining
her deeply. When it was all over, she would be away from this horrible
place, across the seas and safe in Juniji's homeland. Or maybe they
would flee to the west and whatever lay there. She ached for the days
ahead, without fear and frustration, where she could make love to him
without apprehension, where they could live, happily ever after.

Turning the tables on the shadowed man, Juniji began his counter
offensive. Almost immediately, she heard his blade slice flesh. An
ecstatic sob gushed from her mouth as Juniji launched attack after
attack at the man. With a sickening thud, her lover's sword pierced
the heart of his attacker, who then fell to the ground. I wished that
I could have cried out a cheer for the warrior, but Sun Li only
remained there as she began to shake since the adrenaline had drained
her completely.

Withdrawing his blade from his opponent's corpse, Juniji exhaled
as if he had held his breath throughout the entire battle. He then
wiped the sword on the clothes of his fallen foe twice, on each side.
Time slowed to a crawl as he turned, victorious and alive. The grin on
his face displayed the cockiness he must have felt, downing an enemy
after running nearly five miles without stop. I clearly saw his face
then, so familiar to me that I would have gasped in shock had I been
able.

His sapphire blue eyes twinkled by the light of the moon,
radiating his love for Sun Li. He only wore a tight, long-sleeved
undershirt and voluminous black trousers, his bare feet covered with
the blood of his enemy, and his bare hands wielding his shiny steel,
family katana. Broad shoulder and arm muscles could barely be
contained within the unassuming white shirt. He pushed one hand
through his short black hair, ruffling it a bit.

"He was nothing," Juniji bragged, nearing Sun Li, ready to take
her on the trip to leave China as he had promised. Standing before
her, he reached out one hand to help her up.

As his sweaty hand gripped hers, movement from behind him took Sun
Li's attention. She had time to cry out in warning, but he did not
have time to react. The blade entered his back and protruded from his
left breast. With blood and metal pouring from his chest, his eyes
locked on hers, and she stared back.

"Lily..." he whispered with his final breath, his hand relaxing in
hers.

"No!" Sun Li screamed as the blade was extracted from her lover's
chest. He fell like a rag doll, landing in front of her in a heap.
Crawling to his side, she whispered in fierce denial. "No,
Juniji...don't leave me..."

Propping herself on his side, she leaned over his face, tears
dropping upon it, even as warm blood soaked her dress. "Wake up,
Juniji! You can't die. You promised! I love you..." Sobbing
uncontrollably, she collapsed on top of him. "I can't live without
you."

"You are right," a raspy, tired voice replied from behind her.
"You are so right, Lady Sun Li. I will show you how right you are."

Strength coursed through her veins and she stood. Ready to throw
herself on the demon's blade, she turned. Only the moon stood out,
though, with the endless pools of water glittering in every direction.
Surprised, she took a tottering step backwards. The soft slope of the
ground beneath her foot gave way, and she slipped.

Shrieking one last time, Sun Li connected with the incredibly cold
water. It quickly swallowed her up, like the gaping jaws of a hungry
beast turning its prey into a feast. Disoriented by the severity of
the cold, she sunk to the bottom of the pool, but she quickly regained
enough sense to push against the water's bed and propel herself
upward.

Instead of breaking surface, her head struck it, as if a thick
layer of ice entrapped her within the pool, only there was no visible
barrier. Staring through the crystal clear water, air beckoned her,
promising its sweet nectar to her oxygen-deprived lungs. She struck it
once, twice and three times, but the invisible shield remained.

The horror of drowning alive was like none I had ever experienced
before, nor one I would likely know again. The cold quickly numbed all
sensation, but that of the raging need for air. It was a maddening
need that drove away all reason, all sanity. Sun Li's torturous
suffering did not take long to end, but an eternity it seemed to me,
gasping but breathing in nothing but water, struggling but striking
nothing but glass, and sinking after both of those failed. As horribly
as it began, it ended.

I supposed that I should have either died with her, or awoken from
this miserable nightmare, but neither happened. It felt like the
darkness, but with light of the moon shining from above. Sun Li had
been silenced forever, and yet I remained in her lifeless body. The
stillness did not last for long though, and I began to rise, lifting
out of her and out of the pond, finally resting upon its surface. A
dislocated spirit, I had become, gazing out at the expanse of
Jusenkyou.

Twisting around, I stared down into the chilly pool. Sun Li lay at
the bottom, her long black hair drifting about as if she free fell
from a cliff, but in slow motion. Her dirtied white dress, once a
priceless heirloom, now remained nothing more than a tattered burial
gown. Her sightless green eyes stared ever up at me, haunting my soul.
And that was when I had a realization, one that sent me mentally
reeling. Beneath me lay the drowned young girl whose pool I fell into
two decades ago. It also was the body of the ghost I had come to know
as Lily...similar to that of her lover's last word, Lily.

Remembering the fallen warrior, Juniji, I rushed to his corpse.
Lying in the same position as Sun Li had left him, he still stared at
his lover. I stopped next to him, staring at his face. I knew that
face. It was as if he had reached out into reality and stole it from
me, robbing it as my curse had become permanent. It was my eyes that
had dimmed there and my body that had been punctured, lying still
beside me.

I shuddered in surprise as it spoke with my voice. "Now you
understand..."

* * *

The meeting of the Nishiyama, Inc. financial group concluded at
five o'clock. That particular division of Nishiyama, Inc., was made up
of six of the most enthusiastic and brilliant businessmen and women in
Japan, headed by Nabiki Tendou, the Vice-president of the business'
Japanese headquarters. Two years ago had been the last time that
Kiyoshi Nishiyama had visited the Japanese headquarters of his
corporation. In that time, it had not changed one bit. Unfortunately
his memory of the building's layout was poor, so simply finding the
right department and the right floor took well over ten minutes.
Locating his office was not nearly as hard, since it was on a floor of
its own.

Furniture within the office was sparse, considering that its uses
was a billionaire, but Kiyoshi never really cared for lavish
conditions, and it did not really matter since he rarely used the
place. Six pairs of eyes had all lowered nearly simultaneously when he
had entered, and six bodies all bowed in respect for their employer.
Kiyoshi Nishiyama had then taken a seat and listened for nearly six
hours as almost every aspect of the company was explained to him. If
he had more questions than the few he had asked, he would have been up
there until eight or even nine.

Usawa Kuranai -- no relation to Tsubasa -- was the current
President of the Japanese corporation, and yet he had stayed very
quiet through the meeting, Kiyoshi thought now that he had time to do
so. The fact that Kuranai was seventy and turning seventy-one in
August probably had less to do with his silence than the fact that he
seemed to be no more than a figurehead now. Nabiki Tendou had made it
quite clear that she ran things around here during her hour and a half
presentation. The girl -- no, the woman, he corrected himself --
looked the same as she had when she began for Nobukazu's esteemed
organization, about the same time Kiyoshi had found himself being
adopted into it nearly ten years ago. Not even a wrinkle tainted her
tanned white skin, even though she was now in her mid-thirties.

At the time Kiyoshi joined, his position within Nishiyama, Inc.,
was rather small. Intelligence and subterfuge were his specialties,
though his official title in the company was something like "Head
Clerk" or some other nonsense. His body was young, although his spirit
was ancient, and he was merely a messenger, earning his living as
honestly as he could possibly manage. There was very little leniency
in the cruel world for an aged martial artist who appeared to be a
thirteen-year-old, and that held particularly true in his new home,
California. He was very thankful that his body had aged normally.

Six years ago, everything had changed. His knowledge of who the
CEO had been was virtually nonexistent. It did not matter who the boss
was as long as Kiyoshi had been paid on time and his job did not
include murder, theft or anything that would lead back to the life of
crime that Kiyoshi had assumed in his previous body. It was hardly a
bad job, and it even allowed him to travel to and from Japan. Nabiki
had become an executive by then, and he remembered a few times she
called him to send a message, or learn as much as he could about a
certain target. The last time she asked for his service was the last
month of his low status within the corporation.

He still remembered the night he was to deliver a message to
Nobukazu Nishiyama to the smallest detail, including the scene of that
life-altering event. Called to take some crucial information to the
CEO himself, at the elderly man's own house no less, Kiyoshi had
walked in, or more precisely climbed in, and left the note on the
man's desk. The informant had been specific on the fact that Nobukazu
was not to be disturbed and that his entrance needed to be discrete.
So, unable to avoid fate, Kiyoshi had turned to leave by the window he
had entered, but a voice stopped him.

"Wait a moment," Nobukazu had ordered in Japanese from his chair
in the corner of the room. "What is your name?"

"Kiyoshi," the young man had replied.

"What is your family name?"

"I have no family," Kiyoshi had said, describing his situation in
those four words better than any other explanation could have.

"You are one of the orphans then?" The old man had asked, almost
rhetorically, but still waited for an answer.

"Yes," Kiyoshi had lied, though he knew nothing about the ones
Nobukazu had spoken of.

The questions had ranged from when's and where's, to details about
his life. Kiyoshi's cover story, which was very close to the truth,
had been enough to sate his employer's curiosity.

"I had a son once," the old man had told him. "Unfortunately, he
died in the war. His son, my grandson, and his wife whom he had taken
in China were all said to be dead. Missing in action were the words I
was told. My grandchild would probably be nineteen now."

"I am sorry for your loss," Kiyoshi had replied, but the old man
waved him off.

"Don't be. It has been thirteen years since then. I have shed
every tear and every sorrow that I could possibly have for them. They
are with God now." Nobukazu had been an active Christian, Kiyoshi
would later find out. "I did not stop you from leaving so that I may
learn about an employee, or even to force you to have a conversation
with a lonely old man. This is the reason." Approaching him in a wheel
chair, Nobukazu had clutched in his hands a framed picture, and he
held it out for Kiyoshi to take as he drew near.

He quickly took it and examined it in the faint light. With a
child held piggyback, a Japanese soldier in his mid-twenties was
pictured with a beautiful Chinese woman, both smiling at the camera.
It was unremarkable in itself, except for one point. The young man had
short black hair, steel-gray eyes and was quite tall for one of
Japanese descent. He was quite handsome dressed in his U.S. Navy
uniform, but would have been regardless of dress. It might as well
have been a picture of Kiyoshi himself a few years from then.

Kiyoshi had looked up, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"My son, his wife and their six-year old son," Nobukazu had
explained. Their eyes had locked for a moment, and the hard edge in
Kiyoshi's eyes softened in the face of Nobukazu. Albeit aged
significantly, there had been no doubt in Kiyoshi's eyes that the man
before him was the father of the one in the picture.

Kiyoshi had left after that, but was told to come back one week
from that day and meet the old man, by one of the stateside executives
upon his return to his office. One week passed and Kiyoshi made his
appointment, using the door this time. A beautiful young lady, who
later would become one of his dearest friends, had met him at the
door. She had lead him to Nobukazu's study, where the old man waited
with a young man in a white physician's coat.

Suspicion flared in Kiyoshi, but he had allowed the doctor to draw
several vials of blood. He had nothing to hide and doubted they knew
anything about his actual identity. That had been all that they
demanded, so he quickly left, pondering the strange turn of events.
Remembering that he was but a mere ninja who was but one unit of an
extensive clan, he waited to see what fate held in store for him. If
everything began unraveling, he would have simply gathered the little
money he had stashed away and disappeared for a decade or two.

His preparations had proven entirely unnecessary, for he was
called for another meeting the very next day. That time the old man
was alone in his study. He had beckoned him to take the paper on his
desk, which Kiyoshi took and examined. The note contained a scrawl of
information, but there were two distinct categories, both with nearly
identical numbers on each side. Two of them were circled in both
categories with the English word "match" written in bright red and
circled.

"You are my grandson," Nobukazu had stated very slowly. "What you
told me of your early life in China, your lack of family and your
appearance all come together screaming that fact. Your lack of
Japanese and Chinese citizenship, and your recent application for U.S.
citizenship with immigration all add substance to your tale. The DNA
testing only proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt."

A later trace of Nobukazu's history produced a list of ancestors,
one with which Kiyoshi had been intimate. Fate now left him standing
in the shoes of his own great, great, great, great grandson. The match
of blood proved that Jusenkyou did not change a person's body, but
merely forced it to reflect that of their genes in strict accordance
to the waters properties. He could only muse at the traits of the
water he had come into contact with. When the curse had taken its toll
upon his aged body, he found himself a child, but he had completely
retained all of his former agility and chi.

Strangely, it did not leave him entirely the same person, he knew,
for he found it radically hard not to act like a child after a year of
having been one. He had found it so exhilarating to be a child,
treated like a one and even feeling like one, that he did not even
bother changing back most of the time. The startling thing, which he
had not realized until much later, was that he was no longer a slave
to his perversion. Even when his body reached puberty, he had been
able to control the driving force within him to the point that he did
not need it any longer.

That brought him to the essence he knew as Seiichi. What was he,
you might ask? Kiyoshi himself did not even know. He seemed to be more
than a spirit of a human, wise beyond time itself, and yet lacking
even the simplest of emotions. The first time Seiichi had shown
himself was during Kiyoshi's second winter in China. Kiyoshi had just
arrived in Jusenkyou and was descending into the valley when someone
blocked his path. Like an armored paladin, Seiichi appeared, covered
with ancient Chinese battle armor. Much like Kiyoshi, Seiichi could
not have been any older than thirteen, though that was probably
stretching it.

The child did not answer Kiyoshi's questions or even respond. He
simply attacked. The fight had not lasted long, although Kiyoshi put
up a fight that would have made a lesser god think twice. Seiichi was
simply invulnerable to attack, even chi attacks. Kiyoshi had thought
himself done in, but Seiichi only smiled ominously and vanished.

That must have been his way of introducing himself, Kiyoshi
thought now. Their second meeting had been much less exciting. Seiichi
explained that he was a guardian spirit of sorts, similar to the
Christian idea of an angel, though his power was not derived from any
divinity. He said little about himself, though, and had told Kiyoshi
to not waste his second chance at life. In fact, Seiichi had not even
given Kiyoshi his real name. Seiichi was simply something Kiyoshi
thought of to give the spirit more substance.

Why he had been given that second chance had not been answered
until a lost girl came into his care. Perhaps Jusenkyou was laced with
Fate itself, Kiyoshi mused as he filed the memories in the recesses of
his mind once more. He watched the five corporate heads file past him,
leaving Nabiki Tendou sitting directly across from where he stood. Her
smile seemed genuine, but he knew that behind it and within her
beautiful body hid the scheming of a mastermind. She uncrossed her
legs and rested her hands on her thighs, showing she was ready to hear
the reason for which he had asked her to stay.

"As I said before, Tendou-san," Kiyoshi began, taking the seat in
front of her. "The operations here are quite impressive. I am
pleased."

"I would like to take the credit, but it is more Kuranai-san's
doing than mine." Within her deferential words, he knew there to be
nothing more than showing proper respect.

"Cutting through the formality and what not, you and I both know
that is bullshit." He watched as her smile turned into a grin. He
continued. "We have known each other for quite a long time, after all.
I would rather dispense with formality, if you do not mind."

"I do not," she told him evenly, crossing her legs again and
smoothing out her skirt.

"Good," Kiyoshi stated her with a nod. "Do you remember when we
first met?"

Although a little insecurity bubbled to the surface of her aura,
her voice betrayed no emotion. "Of course, Nishiyama-san."

"Kiyoshi, please," he interjected.

"I do, Kiyoshi," she affirmed again. "I was a low level executive,
and you were..."

"A 'head clerk'," Kiyoshi said, filling in her blank.

"Ah yes, a head clerk. A good one at that. We were both pretty
much messengers, though you seemed to have more fun than I did then."
He smiled at that as she continued. "I gave you tasks from time to
time whenever you were in Japan. You were just a kid then, though you
did seem very mature for your age." She returned his smile. "Quite an
interesting turn of events happened, and now here you are, the CEO of
one of the largest corporate firms in the world."

Chuckling politely, Kiyoshi had to agree with her. Interesting
hardly covered it. "And here you are, the Vice-president of our
Japanese headquarters, ready to ascend the throne as my across the
seas counterpart."

"That is if Kuranai-san ever retires," Nabiki replied.

Sitting back in his chair, Kiyoshi laughed again. "Never-the-less,
you run the business with his full authority." Nodding her agreement,
Nabiki folded her hands in her lap, interlacing her fingers. Kiyoshi
scratched beneath his left ear, a nervous habit from his early years
having proven itself yet to be extinguished. "Anyway, I just wanted
you to know that nothing has changed since my last visit here. Your
fine work has assured that."

"I honestly cannot take all of the credit," Nabiki admitted. "The
people I work with are very apt in their positions, and they follow my
words like well trained blood hounds." When Kiyoshi chuckled again,
Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Well, it is true."

"Under your leadership," Kiyoshi added, standing suddenly. He then
changed the line of their conversation. "Tendou-san, accompany me
outside?" He held out his arm cordially.

Rising to stand next to him, she hooked her arm with his as he
turned and began walking out of the office. He could hear her heart
beat quicken ever so slightly as they passed clerks and entered the
elevator. She punched the button that would take them to the lobby of
the building and returned to stand close to him, still holding his arm
with hers. She seemed a little closer than casual, but it did not
bother him in the slightest.

"Whether you know already or not, we have a dinner date tonight."
His words made her turn slightly. She obviously did not know.

"Is that so?" she said ice cold, expressing her concern.

"Your father offered," Kiyoshi explained, settling her
nervousness. "I met with him and Genma Saotome last night."

Silence prevailed upon them for a moment before the elevator
reached their destination and the door opened. She quickly broke it
though. "If Saotome-san and my father were together, then it is
probably a part of some scheme of theirs."

He could not help laughing as they walked across the shiny tiled
floor of the lobby. After he exchanged bows with a few people who
recognized him, he continued on with her.

"I was leaving for your sister's house now," Kiyoshi said, leading
her towards the glass doors. "Would you like to accompany me?"

"I would like to," she began slowly. "But I have to finish a few
things in the office."

"I'm sure that you can finish everything tomorrow," Kiyoshi
entreated. "I insist."
They exited the building where a limousine awaited him. Although
he hated those things, since driving himself was so much more
pleasurable, it was the only way to have a good conversation with
Nabiki.

"I guess that it would be all right," she agreed, entering the car
after he opened it for her, which he shortly followed thereafter. "I
did plan to dine with my family later anyway." She was quickly falling
back into her icy and dominating, but quite normal self. Insecurity
and uncertainty did not become her at all. Kiyoshi much preferred her
confidence.

The conversation they had during the trip to the Tendou home was
quite casual, as they talked about daily stuff, things that irritated
them and anything else frivolous that happened to pop into their
heads. Kiyoshi accomplished that which he had intended, though, for he
merely wanted her to feel more secure around him, like a casual
partner rather than a boss. It worked well, for as they reached their
destination, she was sitting next to him with a hand on his shoulder,
telling a particularly funny joke she had heard in the office.

The sunlight already grew dim as the two casually approached the
gates, arm in arm, laughing at her perverted joke. Soun had told him
to be there at seven, and Kiyoshi's watch read that it was six thirty-
five, putting him ahead of schedule. In another half hour or so, the
sunset would be complete, descending into the dark of night. All felt
well, though there was something on the wind that made Kiyoshi uneasy,
something just beyond his line of sight. He would have to keep an eye
out and warn Kimiko to do so as well, just in case.

"Have you met my entire family?" Nabiki asked as he pushed open
the gates.

Kiyoshi shook his head, allowing her to walk through before
shutting them behind himself. Her heels clicked with every step across
the brick walkway, though his steps went unheard. He allowed her to
lead him to the front door, where she paused and giggled.

"What is it?" he asked, stopping behind her.

"Nothing, Kiyoshi," she replied, slowly turning the doorknob.
"You'll enjoy my family, though the house gets crowded at times. We
usually eat in the backyard, but it's been so cold this summer."

Following after her, they made their way past the stairs and into
the hall. Before he even reached the living room, he could hear a
number of voices and guessed that everybody had shown up tonight. He
paused as Nabiki rounded the corner into the living room. Happy
greetings were exchanged as Kiyoshi took a deep breath and entered.

The scene was just as he had imagined it, a decent sized living
room filled wall to wall with Tendous, Saotomes and Onos. He felt more
than a little nervous under the gaze of so many eyes, since he had
known all of them in his past life, one he no longer wished to
remember. Guilt resided in the past, more than he wanted to think
about any longer. It only made him feel worse to remember that some of
the people in here were adversely affected by his criminal behavior,
the worst of which was directed at Kimiko, who was absent from the
room at the moment, in addition to all the other children.

Heads turned and mumbled questions were asked, as Soun stood and
walked over to his middle daughter and Kiyoshi. He seemed more
dignified now than when Kiyoshi had last known more than fifteen years
ago. His hair had long since grayed, though it was still just as long
as ever, naturally curling at his shoulders. His soft brown eyes
closed and his lips curved into a smile as he bowed low to the two of
them, showing his deep respect. Kiyoshi smiled and bowed as Nabiki
did.

"Welcome to my home, Kiyoshi-san," Soun greeted warmly. "And it is
good to see you again, Nabiki. Both of you, come in. I'll introduce
you to everyone." The family had begun to stand as Soun turned and
started on his left. Kiyoshi bowed to each as Soun introduced them.
Every single last member radiated some amount of happiness, Kiyoshi
noticed as his host finished.

The remarkable recovery of this makeshift clan seemed much less a
miracle than pure determination on their part. That was not including
one of their number: Akane. As she approached Kiyoshi and Nabiki and
the others departed to resume their conversations, a hint of perpetual
sadness resonated from the depths of the raven-haired woman's soul.

Kiyoshi could feel it without trying, and that only happened when
the suffering of the spirit was enough to puncture the thin veil that
bound it from physical world. One can traverse either side, but it was
a rare experience indeed to feel it through that tentative, yet nearly
unbreakable barrier.

A warm smile lit her face, masking the inner discomfort she felt,
to all but Kiyoshi.

"Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of visiting your fine
household, Tendou-san," Kiyoshi graciously told her, bowing.

"I'm going to go have a word with my father," Nabiki whispered to
him before leaving him to talk with Akane alone. He glanced over at
her once, catching her eyes as she turned once before sitting next to
Soun.

Kiyoshi turned his attention to Akane who beckoned him into the
hall. Following her without a word, he put his hands in his pockets.
She turned to face him with the look of sadness creeping over her.

"Is this about my sister?" Kiyoshi asked quickly, before she could
speak. If anything bad were to happen, it would definitely revolve
around her, he thought. After she nodded briefly, he grinned. "What
has she done?"

Akane appeared a little nervous, as if she were deciding how to
tell him some bad news. Her reply came slowly. "Since she's your
sister, you know how young martial artists can act sometimes, right?
Well, your sister and one of the kids went a little overboard in their
sparring match earlier." Before he could inquire to her condition,
Akane answered. "She's okay, but she took some nasty hits and is
sleeping at the moment. We laid her down in my son's bedroom. The kids
have been periodically watching over her and the boy that she sparred
with."

After she finished, Kiyoshi nodded slowly. So that is what she was
nervous about, he thought. She must be worried about my reaction.
"Would it be all right if I go in and see her?"

"Of course," Akane told him, beginning to walk down the hall.
"I'll take you to her."

One flight of stairs and two passed doorways later, Akane knocked
on a door and slowly opened it. She peered in and pushed it open,
beckoning for him to enter. Before he complied, Akane told someone
within the room, "Kenichi, this is Kimiko's elder brother, Kiyoshi."
He heard a shuffling in the room as he entered.

Absorbing the details of the room, he was quickly overwhelmed by
the sheer state of chaos that it was in. Kimiko lay on the bed to his
left, while a desk with scattered art materials sat up against the far
wall. A teenager, who could be none other than the son of Akane, stood
somewhere in the middle, brushing his pants nervously. He wore an
apron that might have once been white, but was now painted with a
rainbow of different colors. Underneath he wore black slacks and a
green shirt, both untouched by the random splashes.

The only thing more vibrant in the room than the boy was the mural
on right wall, which was partially covered by him. Round like the
earth, the scene was sliced in half by a river of blood, one side
green and blue and the other gray and metallic. So he's an
environmentalist, Kiyoshi thought with a grin.

Closing the door, Kiyoshi let the awkward silence unnerve the boy
allowing him to introduce himself first. It took a moment for the boy
to catch on, because he was still gaping.

"I'm Kenichi Tendou, sir," he told Kiyoshi, bowing. "It's a
pleasure to meet you."

"And it is a pleasure to meet you," Kiyoshi told him, returning
the bow. "You have my thanks for watching over my little sister." He
then bowed again.

"It was no problem, Nishiyama-san," the boy replied, nervously
looking over to the canvas that was angled so you could only see it
from the right wall. He scratched his head, gripping his hands
apprehensively.

With a broad smile, he decided to tease the boy some. "You
wouldn't happen to be painting her naked, would you?"

The despairing look in the boy's eyes was enough to make Kiyoshi
laugh out loud, but he held back. Kenichi furiously denied that in a
stuttered sentence which was so jumbled, Kiyoshi could only make out
the words 'no' and 'never', both of which were stated quite a few
times.

After that, Kenichi quickly turned the canvas for Kiyoshi to see.
Amazing was the only word Kiyoshi could describe as he looked over the
tasteful portrait of Kimiko. As if the unfinished painting were alive,
Kimiko stared back at him with haunted eyes and flushed cheeks. Her
unbound mane of red hair hung at her shoulders, darkened by the water
that dripped from it. Her lips mimicked reality, pursed open ever so
slightly as she did in her sleep now, exposing the white of her teeth.
Her expression seemed to be neutral, but an overlaying tone of
melancholy that could not be seen at first glance had Kimiko
represented painfully well. The background of the painting was still
white and a few of the details were still undefined, but it still
looked marvelous.

"This is, really, very good," Kiyoshi told the on-edge young man.
"But I was really hoping you would have painted her nude." The boy
face-faulted, still caught off-guard from his earlier teasing. Kiyoshi
simply could not hold back a chuckle at the boy's expense. "I was
kidding, Kenichi." Although it alleviated most of his embarrassment,
Kenichi still looked nervous.

"I trust you with my sister's honor, in addition to her well
being," Kiyoshi added, reassuring the boy by putting a hand on his
shoulder.

"Thank you," Kenichi whispered and then bowed very low, even as
his face turned quite red.

"Did you ask before painting her?" Kiyoshi wondered aloud.

Kenichi shook his head, as he walked over to his desk. "She's been
out since we moved her. Do you think she'll mind?"

"No," Kiyoshi told him with a shrug. "But you never know with her.
She gets weird about these things sometimes."

Turning his attention from Akane's son, Kiyoshi walked to the
bedside, sitting on its edge. Only Kimiko's hair and face were visible
underneath the dark green covers. Her hair was spread out across the
pillow, like a splash of red paint contrasting a field of green.
Drawing back the covers to her shoulders, Kiyoshi quickly scanned
her skin for marks, but found none. He turned to Kenichi. "Do you know
where she was injured?"

"Well, Rintaro really did a number on her stomach and her left
arm, I think," Kenichi answered. He then added, quite self-
consciously, "Oh, and her...umm...left breast. She only passed out
because she was exhausted, I think."

Nodding, Kiyoshi turned back to the girl beside him. Prodding her
neck for a pulse, he found a regular, healthy one. He lifted back
eyelids, checking for a response, but everything seemed fine. With no
worries of hurting her now that he was sure of her condition, he
turned her head so that she was facing straight up and pressed both of
his hands to her temples.

A warm spike of chi energy shot through his hands and into her
head, causing her to instantly open her eyes and sit up straight.

"Kiyoshi?" Kimiko asked, blinking and squinting even though the
light was not that bright.

"It's me, Kim-chan," he replied as she slowly began to regain
consciousness. "How are you feeling?" It took a moment for her to
answer, but she responded none-the-less.

"Like hell," she complained, lying back down. She yawned, closing
her eyes sleepily.

"Where do you hurt?" he asked, brushing a wisp of hair out of her
eyes.

"Where don't I hurt?" she shot back with a smile. After yawning
again, she elaborated. "My breast is still throbbing from when Rintaro
bashed me with his shoulder." Rubbing it tenderly with her left hand,
she added, "He managed to catch the nipple dead on. My stomach hurts
too. He pretty much targeted me there a lot. And my left arm. He
grazed that with a really strong punch."

"I hope you returned the favor," Kiyoshi told her, taking her arm.
Examining the bandaged arm, he jabbed his fingers into the skin near
the veins. It was just a superficial cut, though probably quite
painful at the time. "This won't scar."

"Oh, too bad," Kimiko joked. "I was hoping for a reminder of this
fight."

Smiling, Kiyoshi pushed back the comforter and then pushed her odd
Hawaiian styled shirt back to look at her stomach. Dark blue welts
covered its surface. She winced as he felt her bruised skin with his
fingers. "Your stomach will be fine in a day or two." She nodded as he
covered her stomach. "Do you want me to look at your breast?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice strained as she began to wrestle
with the top button of her blouse. "No copping a feel, though." He
heard an embarrassed cough from behind him, which caught Kimiko's
attention.

"You were placed in Kenichi's room," Kiyoshi offered, not taking
his eyes from her.

"Hi," Kenichi greeted, nearly a whisper, from across the room.

"Heya, Kenichi," she responded wearily. "Thanks for the bed."

"Um, no problem," the boy said shakily.

Fumbling with the top button again, Kimiko could not quite get it.
Kiyoshi quickly turned to look at Kenichi who suddenly seemed to find
his mural quite interesting, though the sides of his face were beet
red.

"Allow me," Kiyoshi told Kimiko as he turned back to face her.
Quickly unbuttoning her blouse, he opened it. She turned her head as
he reached around her back and unfastened her bra.

"It's my left breast," she whispered softly.

Although pre-informed, he had no need for the knowledge when he
examined her breasts. The left one had a very nasty bruise centered on
the nipple. With more than adequate knowledge of the pressure points
around the female breast, he had absolutely no need to search for
them. He skillfully pressed his fingers directly into the correct
spots. To remove the pain would require the use of a significant
amount of chi. The task was not enough to drain him, but it was enough
to make his hands glow. Luckily for him, Kenichi was sitting at his
desk with his head turned, and was far too embarrassed to look at her
exposed breast, or more importantly, Kiyoshi's glowing hands.

He closed his eyes and strength ebbed from his hands, flowing into
the skin and muscle around the injury. She almost immediately sighed
in relief after he began. He imagined the cells restoring themselves
beneath his fingers, as he knew they were. Opening his eyes, he
smiled. The flesh had regained its proper color, although it was still
a little tender. "Still hurt?"

"Not nearly as bad," Kimiko answered, pulling her shirt closed,
after he retracted his hands. "Thanks, Kiyo-kun."

"Don't mention it," he said, ruffling her hair. "You did win,
right?"

Looking away, she scowled and shook her head. "Nah, I exerted
myself too much and just passed out, I think. Last I saw, he was
standing. I did manage to pop him one before I fell, though."

Kiyoshi turned as he heard Kenichi clearing his throat. "You did
win, Kimiko," the boy added softly. "You knocked Rintaro out before
you passed out."

Chuckling as the scowl shifted into a grin on his sister's face,
Kiyoshi stood, smiling. She beamed back, sitting up carefully. Her
eyes looked a little distant, but she otherwise seemed healthy. The
bruises were nothing more than a topical discomfort rather than
anything serious. Perhaps, he considered to himself, he should go and
check on the other child. If Kimiko was this jostled up, the boy might
be hurt worse. Though, he did trust Akane's assessment of the
children's health, especially since Dr. Tofu was in the household.

"I'm going to check on, what's his name? Rintaro?" Kiyoshi turned
to Kenichi who was staring dreamily at Kimiko. "Kenichi?"

"Oh, sorry," the boy muttered. "Yeah, it's Rintaro and he's in the
room to your immediate right. I'm not sure who's in there with him, if
anyone is."

Smiling at the boy, Kiyoshi looked at Kimiko who was struggling to
keep her eyes open as she sat up against the headboard of the bed.
"Kimiko, I'll see you a bit later. Want me to get you when it's dinner
time?"

The mention of dinner brought a quick response from the girl who
broadened her grin. "Yeah, don't forget. I'm starving."

Chuckling softly, Kiyoshi nodded and left the room, closing it
behind him.



The click of Kiyoshi's exit echoed in the silent room, and Kimiko
pressed her hand to her clammy forehead. She was vaguely aware of
Kenichi's presence somewhere behind her, though the boy had not
uttered a single word since her brother departed the moment before.
With the pain from her left breast nearly faded, her stomach hurt
worse than it had, but it was tolerable. She had been hit harder in
the past, although that was a long time ago and she had a much more
hearty constitution.

Weakly propping the pillow up against the wall, she turned and
wearily rested her back. She felt as if she had just run a marathon,
and her muscles had already stiffened like bricks. It much effort just
to turn her neck and look at Kenichi, but she managed it. He was about
six feet away from her, sitting in a chair facing her, his hands held,
fingers interlaced. Staring meaningfully at his bare feet, he looked
very nervous.

"So I won, huh?" she asked, breaking the embarrassed silence.
"Yeah," he replied, looking up into her eyes for a moment, then
turning them back to the floor. Pressing his hands to the seat of the
chair, he lifted himself up and crossed his legs underneath himself,
promptly sitting back down. "It was close, but you won."

"Cool," she stated, smiling at him. He began to smile back, but
turned his head away quickly, a slight flush coloring to his cheeks.
Kimiko yawned for a moment, and then pursued a conversation. "How'd I
do?"

Biting his bottom lip, Kenichi pushed his right hand through his
hair, looking anything but comfortable. "Well, you did good, and you
did win, but you let him bully you around a lot. And you gave him too
much time to set up his next attacks. I don't know if you needed that
time or what, but it was pretty much a deciding factor." A little
surer with himself, Kenichi scooted forward in his chair. "Some of his
techniques were pretty cheap, some I haven't even seen, but you
handled them really well. I thought he had you after he had caught you
in that one hold. The one after you through a punch, where he grabbed
you and was about to pummel you."

"Yeah," Kimiko agreed, forgetting her fatigue. She slowly sat
straight, by herself, as she continued. "I saw that one coming a mile
away. He was pretty predictable most of the time. Well, when he wasn't
kicking my ass." Kenichi giggled a little at that. "I totally set him
for that one though. I threw a sloppy punch so he'd use something I'd
recognize. He did use a lot of stuff that I've never seen before
though."

Sliding off his chair and onto the floor beside the bed, Kenichi
put his hands on the bed. With his self-consciousness forgotten, he
continued their conversation with a grin on his face. "That was a
really cool counter you pulled there. But my favorite part was where
you dropped down so fast that you'd pop up next to him, and he'd be
all confused. How'd you learn that?"

Sticking out her bottom lip in thought, Kimiko answered, "Let me
think. I sort of learned it while fighting Kiyoshi. He's so tall that
I could distract him a little, drop, weave beside him and attack
again. It didn't get through his defense, but it made him stop
attacking. It only works on opponents who are taller than yourself."
She stopped, leering at him. "You're not short, but you're definitely
not tall, so it won't work well for or against you."

"That sucks," Kenichi complained, grinning lopsided. He then
stopped smiling and shook his head.

"What?" Kimiko asked, leaning forward slightly.

"I'm still in shock that the great Rintaro is no longer
undefeated," he answered.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Kimiko asked, flashing her eyelashes.
When Kenichi held his chin in his hand and sarcastically began,
"Well..." Kimiko cut him off.

"Actually, don't answer that." Rubbing her sore back, she
straightened from her slouch and thoughtfully peered down at him
sitting on the floor, both arms rested on the bed. He radiated simple
happiness, it seemed to her, and his smile and brown eyes both proved
that. Not able to think of anything to say, Kimiko rested back against
the wall and sighed.

That was when she noticed the canvas and paints scattered about
the room. As she strained looking at the mess, Kenichi turned and
stood. His softly spoke his explanation, though it sounded weak, like
he was far away. "You know how I said I was an artist?"

"Yeah," Kimiko replied, yawning thereafter.

"Well, I really like doing people's portraits," he told her,
twisting the canvas around for her to see, although his body was still
in the way. "I hope you don't mind me painting you."

The dark-haired boy took a step away from the portrait, like a
showman pulling back the curtains for the theater. The sight before
Kimiko took her breath away. Depicted to mirror her incredibly,
besides the exaggerated size of the eyes and the brightness of the
colors, the painting was simply amazing. Unconsciously pushing a hand
through her knotted hair, Kimiko examined the canvas with a smile. Her
white shirt was transparent, but the bottom of the portrait cut off
anything naughty. Typical male artist addition, Kimiko thought with a
grin.

"So you like it?" Kenichi asked eagerly, returning the smile.
At second glance, the portrait still glistened with some fresh
paint. Kimiko looked into the eyes of her counterpart, and squinted at
the sight. The girl had two eyes, one blue, and one green. She turned
her vision to stare upon the young artist, her eyes inquisitively
penetrating his, as if probing for an explanation.

"Is something the matter?" Kenichi asked, tugging the cuff of his
left sleeve nervously.

"What's with the green eye?" she responded, sliding down to rest
her head on her hand.

Looking at the painting, Kenichi shrugged, as if the reason were
impossible to explain. "Well when we fell in the water, your eyes
shined green." He turned back to her.

The koi pond, the kiss and the dream all flashed in her memory.
Forgetting was definitely easier than remembering. "Whatever, it looks
cool anyway." He smiled at that, though she unfortunately had to
change the mood of their conversation entirely.

"Kenichi?" she asked gravely, which he replied to with a nod as
his smile waned. "It's about what we did in the koi pond earlier." He
appeared to understand the seriousness of her intentions, and he
sobered dramatically as she continued. "Well, that is...you see..."
Realizing that she was twiddling her thumb like a fool, she grasped
her hands in her lap. "It's really hard to say what I mean."

Kenichi seemed to turn white as a ghost as he sat on the bed
staring at his knees. He probably was interpreting her meaning without
giving her the chance to say anything. She already regretted bringing
the matter up at all, but it could not be helped. Leading him on would
only make things worse in time, which had proven itself to backfire
terribly in the past.

How do you tell someone, who seems to have a crush on you, that
you were actually a guy at one time and hoped to be one in a month or
two, once more? Kimiko helplessly wondered. She could tell him that
she was not interested, but for some reason the words just would not
leave her mouth. He already looked like a fish ensnared on a fisher's
hook, squirming around on her line. To just outright say she did not
like him the way he wanted was just like telling Shampoo, Ukyou or any
of the other girls the same thing.

Instead, she let her mouth run away with her, like usual. "I, we,
don't really...know each other so well. I mean, we've never even
dated, but it's not that I don't like you, or anything." As she
continued, the perplexed look on his face showed that he understood
about as much as the fish would as the fisherman told the captured
creature that he was sorry for the hole in its mouth, and that he was
going to eat it for dinner that very night anyway.

"I think I know what you mean," Kenichi replied before Kimiko
could make a bigger fool of herself than she already thought herself
to be. "You wanna be friends for a while and take things slow?"
Close enough, she thought with a sigh. "Yeah, I mean, you don't
mind, do you?"
Shaking his head, Kenichi smiled, filling most of the imaginary
hole in Kimiko's chest. She still felt a little hollow about it
though. Strangely enough, his voice did not even sound the least bit
disappointed. "Actually, I somewhat feel the same way. When I pulled
you in the water, my brain wasn't functioning very well." They both
got a giggle out of that, though Kimiko's laughter quieted swiftly.

"How come you told everyone else about the kiss, though?" she
asked, remembering the scene right before her and Rintaro's fight.
Kenichi closed his eyes, and shook his head as she continued. "Not
that I'm really mad, but-"

"I didn't," he interrupted, standing so that he could sit on the
bed. "I honestly didn't tell'em. Rintaro saw the whole thing and told
them before your fight. I would have never have told anyone until I
knew how you felt about it. You did look kind of weird after...it."

Hoping to dismiss the matter now that it was moving into dangerous
territory, and happy that the issue was temporarily resolved, Kimiko
decided to lead the conversation elsewhere. "It's over now, so let's
forget it. I just want to know that we're still friends." She tried to
reach her arm to hold it out for a handshake, but it did not respond
well. He seemed to realize what she meant and held out his. As she
slowly managed to move it, she asked, "Friends?"

"Yeah, friends," he responded, about to take her hand.

She would have shook his hand, but her back decided that this was
the moment it would give out, so she fell forward instead. The really
embarrassing part was that she had forgotten to button up her shirt,
and although it had been closed during their conversation, it flapped
open as she fell, right onto his hand.

Kimiko's whole body felt quite stiff, both with pain and shock, as
her head unintentionally fell on his lap. It would not have been
nearly as bad if her shirt had not have slipped to her shoulders and
his right hand were not somewhere very tender.

"Oh my," Kenichi whispered as he gathered his shaken wits and
gently pushed her up by the shoulders. His face burned as bright red
as hers felt. The fact that his eyes were not glued to her chest had
her impressed though. That was how most men seemed to react to naked
breasts.

Kimiko had no chance to answer in agreement as the door swung
open.

"Kenichi, Kimiko, dinner's...ready?" Kiyoshi stood in the doorway,
his face completely ashen, his mouth gaping and his eyes wide.

A second passed, allowing everything to sink into Kimiko's mind.
She sat on the bed with Kenichi holding her shoulders. Her shirt was
wide open, and the two of them were sitting improperly close. Now, her
very overprotective and clueless brother was standing far enough away
to misread the whole situation, yet close enough to see the major
details. This was not good.

"Sorry," Kiyoshi whispered, silently closing the door.

Kimiko turned to face Kenichi the same time he turned to face her.
He took one glance at her chest, and his eyes began to roll up in his
head. This time she had to catch him as he fell backwards.

The law of predictability stated that the door should open again.
And it did.

"What's going on in here, guys?" It was Mayako's turn to stand in
the doorway.

"Oh God," Kimiko managed to whisper under her breath as she held
Kenichi from falling over. This time her breasts were hanging out as
she leaned over him in a very provocative way.

"Whoa!" the conscious twin exclaimed as her gaping turned into a
huge grin. "I should leave you two alone." She then closed the door.

"Ahh!" Kimiko shrieked, weakly shaking Kenichi. "Wake up, Kenichi!
I can't hold you!"

"Huh?" the boy muttered, slowly regaining conscious. He did not do
it quick enough, because her arms gave out and the both tumbled over
the side of the bed.

Luckily, Kenichi absorbed the fall with his head. Unfortunately,
Kimiko still could move just about as well as a brick. Her head felt
like a spinning top, about to topple over. Too late did she realize
that she was not even in the sweats that she had originally been
wearing when she had passed out. "Oh God." The futility of it all made
her want to scream. Here she was, on top of a very handsome young man,
wearing nothing but a baggy unbuttoned shirt and panties, and
completely unable to do anything about it. She would definitely think
twice before draining her body of its chi a second time.

"Kim...?" Kenichi whispered, since their faces were about three
inches a part at best. When the door clicked open a third time,
causing Kenichi to look over, Kimiko gave a despairing sigh and let
her head fall beside his face in defeat.

"Go Kenichi!" Ryosei's voice echoed from the hall.

"Sorry, he wouldn't believe me," Mayako stated from around the
same place. "We won't bother you again." The door closed for a third
time, although Ryosei clearly protested. Kimiko thought she heard the
door click twice, for some reason...

"I hate my life," Kimiko whispered in his ear after a few moments
of peace.

"Why are we like this on the floor?" Kenichi sounded absolutely
puzzled. Maybe he got brain damage from hitting his head, Kimiko
thought wryly. She knew he understood the gravity of the situation
when he stated, "Oh."

"Yeah," she replied softly.

"Is the room spinning for you too?" he asked.

"Like a dradle."

"You're not wearing pants are you?"

"Nope."

"Oh my." Kenichi's head fell back against the wooden floor with a
thud.

Kimiko only had the energy to sigh.

* * *

The pallor of Kiyoshi's face showed that something was wrong,
Nabiki observed as her decade and a half younger boss re-entered the
living room like a wraith. Already seated at the dinner table, Nabiki
wanted to stand to ask what was the matter, but her younger sister
beat her to it, quickly intercepting him.

Kiyoshi obviously did not wish to speak his mind, because he only
shook his head and stalked by her, to sit across from Nabiki. She
opened her mouth to ask him something, when giggling from the hall and
the sound of children rushing towards the living room momentarily
stole her attention from Kiyoshi.

Two of the most rambunctious teenagers in the house, Mayako and
Ryosei, walked into the living room, laughing about something or
another. As Akane sat on Nabiki's left, Mayako bolted to sit across
from her mother on Kiyoshi's right. Soun was already sitting at the
head of the table, with Genma on the other with Reiko on his left and
an empty space on his right. Normally the adults sat in the house,
while the kids all ate outside, but this time they had decided to
reverse the situation, all but for the ones sitting their now and the
absence of the two littlest.

Ryosei frowned slightly while watching Mayako, then walked and sat
next to Nabiki, offering her an unsteady smile.

"What's wrong?" she asked him as he settled in.

"I thought you were observant," he mumbled, shoving his hands in
his lap, motioning towards the other side of the table with his head.
It only took one look to see what was bothering him, for Mayako was
practically drooling over Kiyoshi. "See what?"



Nabiki nodded solemnly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't
worry, Ryo-chan. I've seen him turn down beautiful women of all ages.
I don't think he's going to make a move on his friend's daughter."
With a sober sigh, Ryosei shook his head. "That's not all that I'm
worried about." Nabiki raised an eyebrow as he explained. "She's
mooning over him like I don't exist. I mean, I know she's the most
insensitive girl alive, but can't she for once just think about
someone other than herself?"

Blinking slowly, Nabiki turned back to the scene. Kiyoshi seemed
perfectly at ease, now, with both of Mayako's hands clutching his
shoulder as she whispered to him. A tinge of jealousy, hardly enough
to even be noticed by Nabiki herself, surfaced, but it was enough for
her to unconsciously frown. His steel gray eyes met her brown ones,
and he smiled. Nabiki could not help but reflexively return his
infectious smile with one of her own.

"Auntie?" Ryosei asked her, tapping the hand that still held his
shoulder. Regretfully breaking their eye contact, she turned to the
boy. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "You got a thing
for Kim's brother or something?"

Calmly shaking her head, Nabiki silently prayed to all of the
holiness in heaven that she would not blush. She whispered a rushed
yet plausible explanation. "He's my boss."

"Sure," Ryosei replied with a slight grin. His mischievous eyes
glittered. "I'm really not worried about him picking up Mayako now
that he's spoken for."

Shrugging her shoulders, Nabiki leaned over to him and whispered,
"Five hundred yen says you shut your mouth right now, or I'll tell
Mayako about some of the Anime you have stashed in the box hidden in
your closet." Savoring the result of her threat, Nabiki watched his
face pale and his eyes open wide. Before he could ask, she answered
his unspoken question. "I know all, see all, and hear all."

Nodding without an ounce of his former security, he stared down at
the table, as if that could somehow save him from the threatened
embarrassment.

"I'm glad we are in agreement." Nabiki then looked up and thanked
Kasumi as she placed tea on the table in front of her.
Nabiki turned her attention to Mayako, who was virtually attached
to Kiyoshi by this time, and to the mother who seemed happily
oblivious to the whole thing.

"Is something wrong, Nabiki?" Akane asked, noticing the attention
that was paid to her.

Pointing towards the "couple", Nabiki smiled wryly.

Akane turned, looked straight past Mayako and Kiyoshi, smiled at
Kiyoshi who smiled back, and then turned back to Nabiki. "What?"

Did she...approve...of them? A memory involving Akane's crush over
Dr. Tofu bubbled to the surface, but Nabiki pushed it back. No, Akane
would not approve of her daughter pursuing a man ten years older, even
if she had in her youth. At least, Nabiki hoped that Akane would not.
But, it was not like Kiyoshi was "spoken for" as Ryosei had put it. He
had been acting unusually casual with her the entire evening,
especially for an employer and employee, but maybe he did not mean
anything by it. Perhaps that was just how he acted normally. Nabiki
certainly did not know him well enough to discern whether his behavior
had been "unusual" or not.

"Never mind," Nabiki replied to her younger sister.

* * *

"You sure you're okay?" Kenichi asked Kimiko softly, as she
unsteadily laid her eyes on him. She then blinked and refocused her
eyes on him again. He bit his bottom lip before continuing. "I'm sure
my mom would bring you up something to eat, if you want?" Her face
looked a little pallid, and her movements were strained, but the
determination of her voice fiercely warded his attempts at concern.

"Already said I'm fine," she shot back. Pushing her hands through
her knotted hair, Kimiko took a deep breath. "And I'm not tired enough
to miss dinner." She frowned. "What's the smile for?"

Letting his face fall neutral, Kenichi had not even known that he
smiled. He shrugged and pushed his hands in his pockets, rocking
gently on his heels as he answered. "I don't know. I'm just happy, I
guess."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why?" His soft whisper was more of a question to himself than to
her, but she replied anyway.

"Yeah, what's there to be happy about?" She was sitting on his
bed, her hands rested on her knees, her shining eyes rested upon him.
His mother had cleaned and washed Kimiko's gray silk blouse and her
navy blue skirt. They did not quite seem to be colors that suited
Kimiko well, but they did match her mood now.

"What's not to be happy about?" he returned with a shrug. Smiling,
Kenichi held out his hand to help her stand. "I mean, with everything
considered, things aren't so bad right now."

Kimiko blinked a few times, fluttering her lashes and putting her
left hand to her forehead. "Even though I gave you the old, 'Let's
just be friends,' excuse?" Then with her right hand, she grasped his.
Her soft yet strong hand rubbed against his as he practically yanked
her to her feet. Whether she needed to be helped that much, or she
purposefully meant to weigh him down, he did not know.

"I needed to hear that excuse," he answered, still holding her
hand, even as she stood on her own two feet. Looking down at his feet,
he wistfully sighed as he released it. Thinking for a moment, Kenichi
looked up to meet her sapphire blue eyes. "Want to hear something
stupid?"

Covering her yawning mouth with her hand, Kimiko nodded. She
looked exhausted, standing there with her weight shifted to one hip
and her eyes fighting to stay open. When she lowered her hand, she
mumbled, "So tell me already."

"Well," he began, suddenly not sure if he wanted to tell her.
"It's really embarrassing, so you have to promise not to laugh."

With a three-fingered salute to her brow, she promised, "Scouts
honor."

After taking a deep breath, Kenichi shoved his hands back in his
pockets, shying his face from her. "You remember when we bumped into
each other at the airport?" She nodded to his question. "Well, after
that, I didn't think we'd ever see each other again. So, I wished that
we could bump into each other again."

"Why would I laugh at that?"

Looking up at her, Kenichi wondered at the solemn tone of her
voice. Did she wish the same thing? Did fate bring them together like
this because they both wanted it? Pushing those romantic notions from
his head, he tried to formulate a response. "So...uh...did you wish
too?"

Tried to formulate was right, although her answer was even more
bizarre. "No. I followed you." With a hand against her face, he could
discern a wince from the genuine look of pain on her face.

"You okay?" He hurried to her side, putting his arm around her
shoulder in support.

"I'm fine!" she blurted, leaning against him like dead weight.

"Whoa," he muttered, directing her to sit on the bed. He wanted to
get an explanation as to why she followed him, but asking might only
upset her further. That he did not want. "Sit here a second. There's
no rush to eat."

"I'm starving," she replied, resuming the task of sitting herself
up. "And I'm fighting to stay awake. I can't even think straight. That
technique really sucks after the fight's over."

"What technique?" Kenichi prodded enthusiastically.

"How come you think I didn't lose?" She turned to face him then,
steadying herself with both of her hands pressed against the bed. "An
amazing recovery at the last moment? A second wind?"

Honestly confused, Kenichi nodded.

With a brisk shake of her head, Kimiko looked away. "Nah, that's
not it at all. I just copied Rintaro."

"Copied him?"

"Yeah." She whispered with a nod. Sliding her hands to her knees,
Kimiko took a deep breath. "I've never really thought about what keeps
me from getting hurt by punches and stuff, like normally people would.
I've always attributed it to toughness and battle-hardened kind of
stuff."

"Isn't it?" Kenichi asked, as he held the same belief. After being
on the receiving end of enough punches, he just got used to it after a
while. It was not a conscious thing, because he certainly did not need
to think about it. It simply was.

"Some, yes," she responded. "Some of it is conditioning, and
training and taking enough hits. But most of it isn't. I've survived a
lot of stuff that would kill most people in the best of conditions.
I've never, ever asked why, or even thought about it. I always assumed
I was simply better than everyone else, that somehow I achieved a
higher form of physical training." Pausing for a moment, she shifted
her bare feet against his wooden floor. Kenichi allowed her the time
to finish her answer, as he was truly intrigued where she was heading.

"I realized today that I was only partially right. I did achieve a
sort of higher form of training, but it wasn't physical. Although it
took me a lot of time to realize it, and even when I used it today, I
didn't think about the technique itself too much. Rintaro had been
using it the whole time, wrapped up tight like a present with enough
stuffing to let the contents survive a drop off a skyscraper.

"Somehow, his chi was shielding him from my attacks. I was able to
absorb a lot of his punches, but he was really doing a number on my
body, because I'm not really in the greatest of shape currently." As
Kimiko continued, Kenichi mentally remarked on how much he disagreed
about her physical condition. "Anyway, I realized what he was doing
and why he was so uncaring through the whole thing. That was the way
he avoided damage, somehow channeling his chi to absorb the blows. I
don't even think he was doing it consciously."

Blinking with more than a little confusion, Kenichi stopped her by
putting his hand on hers. "Wait a second. You mean that technique was
like something out of Cyber School Rumble? That the reason you beat
him was because you magically shielded yourself from damage?" Half
believing, and the other half waiting for her to break out laughing
like Mayako would, Kenichi stared at her.

"Cyber School Rumble?" she asked, curiously.

"Yeah. It just came out on console."

"Oh, a video game," she replied, staring down at his hand, which
was still on top of hers.

"Nah, a cyber game," Kenichi corrected, pulling his hand away,
embarrassed. "But you know what I mean?"

She nodded, interlacing her fingers together. "I think I do, and I
guess that's one fiction based on reality."

"Cool!" he exclaimed, bouncing on the bed a few times. "You're not
even kidding, are you?"

"Why would I kid you?" Kimiko asked, more reflectively than
wanting and answer. "But yeah, like a 'cyber game,' I guess."

Going back to her original statement, he wondered aloud, "So why'd
you say 'that really technique really sucks,' then?"

Sighing, she unclenched her hands and pushed them to the bed. "It
literally drained me. I used up everything and..." Kimiko turned her
head away from him as she pushed herself to her feet. "And passed
out."

A clattered knock at the door dispelled their conversation, and
caused Kimiko to fall back onto the bed.

"Can I come in?" It was his mother's voice.

"Yeah," Kenichi called back.

The door swung open, revealing Akane carrying a tray of food. "I
thought that I'd bring you two some food, since neither of you were
coming down." As she approached, Kenichi spotted three very full
plates and three beverages. "And that I might join you?"

Although he would rather be alone with Kimiko, Kenichi agreed with
a nod. Akane set the tray on the floor and beckoned them to join her
as she took her plate from it.

"Thank you, Mom," Kenichi told her as he slid to the floor, and
took a plate and a glass of juice.

"Aren't you hungry, Kimiko?" His mother asked the redhead.

Kenichi turned to look up at her still sitting on the bed. Her
face was red with embarrassment, as she sat, slumped over onto her
right hand. Her voice conveyed how she felt as she spoke. "Yeah,
but..."

Realizing her plight from their conversation before, Kenichi stood
up and sat next to her, reaching under her armpit and around her back.
"Are you all right, honey?" Akane whispered, across to her as the
two children slowly slid to their knees.

"I'm just exhausted," Kimiko admitted as Kenichi let her go when
she was adjacent to the tray of food. "And very hungry. Thank you so
much for bringing it to me, Akane-san."

With one of her motherly omniscient smiles, Akane reached for her
drink. Kenichi lifted his and took a sip. It was some sort of
artificially flavored citrus drink, probably enriched with more
vitamins than existed, and it tingled slightly as it went down. The
meal itself smelled and looked very promising, though.

Kenichi watched Kimiko lethargically take her plate and beverage,
and later how she slowly ate her food, seeming to pause with every
bite.

"I wanted to ask you a question, if that is all right, Kimiko."
Akane set her chopsticks on the side of the plate, and set her hands
on her knees. "And I also needed to talk to the both of you." Kenichi
reflexively gulped at the serious tone of her voice.

"Of course, Akane-san," Kimiko replied evenly, her eyes half shut.
"Go ahead and ask."

Taking a bite of something particularly tasty, Kenichi listened in
as the two women talked.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want," his mother began.
That meant that the subject matter was as serious as she had sounded.
Kimiko nodded, signaling her to begin. "Well, I really wanted to know
about your parents. I tried asking your brother, but he only said that
you were the only one who could answer. I really wouldn't pry into
such a delicate matter like this, but..."

Kimiko waved her hand and shook her head, yawning as she let Akane
know that it was all right. "It's okay, Akane-san. No need to explain.
I was bound to explain it to one of you anyway." Kenichi looked at her
with serious curiosity, not noticing his mother's slightly surprised
look.

Hanging her head low, Kimiko studied her plate, suddenly finding
it interesting. She sighed so sorrowfully that Kenichi wanted to hold
her and tell her all was well. Then, she spoke with slow, calculated
words.

"I never really knew my mother," she began, setting her chopsticks
down. "My dad never really talked about her much, and always jumped to
another subject whenever it came up. I honestly didn't question him
much about it until I was about six or seven, but after I realized it
didn't really matter, so I gave up." Covering her mouth as she yawned,
Kimiko closed her eyes. After recovering, she continued. "That's
really it for my mother. My father's another story.

"We really bonded on some levels, but he was always so detached
from himself and me. We sort of jumped around from place to place for
a real long time, until we settled down a while back. Compared to our
vagrancy, that didn't last long. He disappeared one night after..."

Her words ended abruptly and she lifted her glass and took a sip.
She looked up at Kenichi's mother, who was just as silently shocked as
he. Kenichi was honestly confused. Did her father not die?

"Kiyoshi told me about that part," Akane admitted. "You've
answered my question adequately enough. And I'm really sorry for
bringing you the pain again, but I really had to know."

"I understand," Kimiko replied, staring at her glass as she held
her glass with both hands. "Was that all you wanted to ask me?" Akane
nodded and smiled.

Kenichi certainly had more than a few, but they could wait. This
was neither the right time, nor the right place for them.

"There is one thing I'd like to talk to the both of you about,
though," Akane told them, staring at Kenichi until he finished chewing
his food.

"What's that?" Kenichi asked innocently, completely unaware of
what it could be. He looked over at Kimiko who lowered and shied her
face from them. Obviously she knew something, but what?

"It's about you two," Akane said, motioning with her hand, like
that was supposed to mean something to him.

"And what?" he questioned. His mother simply glared at him, as if
he was supposed to know the answer to a question that she had not even
asked. "I don't get it."

"She wants to know what we're doing, kissing and stuff since we
only met a few days ago," Kimiko bluntly informed him.

Suddenly, Kenichi felt the temperature of his room rise several
degrees, his heart decided it was a good time to go on a marathon, and
his skin felt the need to sweat from every pore of his body.

"Sort of," Akane agreed with a giggle. "And this isn't a trial,
Kenichi, so stop looking like you've committed a crime." Crossing her
arms over her chest, she stared directly at him. "I just want to let
you know that it's okay as long as you're cautious."

The moan from Kimiko, and the intense red of her turned face
suggested that something was amiss, but Kenichi was not quite the best
at putting two and two together when it came to subtle things such as
this. It most likely had to do with the fact that he did not want to
realize the answer was really four, but never the less, he still had a
blank look on his face when he looked between his mother and Kimiko.

"Cautious about what?"

Akane sighed as Kimiko groaned again, leaving Kenichi to stare in
puzzlement. The next thought he had made his jaw drop.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He exclaimed, warding towards his mother
with his hands. "It's not like that at all!" Not that he did not want
it to be, it was just that it was not like that, yet. "I...we...I
mean, you know what I mean!"

"Oh?" Akane murmured, looking puzzled. "Mayako blurted an
interesting tale that led me to believe..."

"It was a misunderstanding," Kimiko interrupted quickly, having
regained her composure. "I wasn't able to move very well, and Kenichi
seemed to have overloaded his brain when I fell on him." The 'believe
it or not' tone she used settled the doubt in Kenichi's mother's eyes.

"If anyone in Japan knows about misunderstandings, it's me," Akane
informed them. "I trust you two. And if it does come to what I said
before, then just be safe."

If he had not of heard her right, he would have assumed she meant
that she thought it was okay for him to have intercourse with the girl
that sat next to him and across from her. No, he thought, he could not
have heard that right...or did he? Oh boy...one look at Kimiko was all
it took to realize she had...talk about befuddlement.

Akane laughed, throwing back her head as her body shook. "Oh God,
you two look so funny. I'm so sorry for putting you guys on the spot
like that. You really aren't having sex!" That added a few more
degrees to the room.

Going from the third time he had ever kissed a girl, and the first
time he had actually wanted the before said kiss, straight to
practically receiving parental blessing to skip the entire dating
process and hop into bed simply left Kenichi without a brain cell left
to think. Well, maybe it was time for a nice mental vacation anyway.

Luckily, bad luck in this case, Kimiko caught him. Her hands were
shaky as she held him from planting his face into his food. The
comfortable bliss of unconsciousness called to him, but when he
realized her strain, he quickly sat back.

His mother giggled uncontrollably as Kimiko rested back on her
hands.

"You remind me of your father so much when you do that, Kenichi!"
Quickly diving back into eating his dinner, Kenichi tried to
ignore his mother, while still flashing glances at Kimiko to make sure
she was okay. Their conversation after that was much less embarrassing
than before, although his mother added a comment or two about them,
but he ignored it. Kimiko, for the most part, remained silent, staring
intently at whoever was speaking while she ate, nodded and
occasionally spoke.

Unfortunately the night had to end sometime, no matter how much
Kenichi enjoyed it. Akane beckoned them to come downstairs, now that
Kimiko had a full stomach and was feeling marginally better, and they
did so. As they arrived in the dining room where everyone was talking,
Kenichi realized that Kiyoshi was already wishing everyone farewell.

Kimiko and her brother shared a word while Kenichi waited for her,
but then she, too, announced her departure. Reiko had already left
with her parents, so that left Mai and Mayako to be the ones to hug
her goodbye. Kiyoshi had already left at this point, and Kimiko was
ready to follow when Kenichi gently caught her hand.

"Please wait," he insisted, not releasing her. She nodded, and he
drew close and whispered, "Why did you follow me?"

Kimiko obviously knew what he was talking about, because she
suddenly looked very panicked. Her eyes glanced over the rest of the
household, which was wishing each other goodbye as well.

She whispered in his ear, and quickly turned the other way,
running as fast as her legs would carry her. Kenichi only stared after
her, even as everyone hugged him and left.

"What is it?" his mother asked, putting her arm him. "What did she
whisper?"

Kenichi looked over, smiling broadly. "She said I was cute!"



Choking on air with fits of coughing, Kimiko dropped like dead
weight onto the leather bench seat of black limousine. Fleeing from
the house as she had probably made her look like an embarrassed little
girl, but the result was far worth the price. Instead of thinking of a
logical answer to Kenichi's question, she had told him he was cute so
that he would drop the issue. It seemed to have worked, rather well in
fact, but that pushed her into a whole new set of problems. Of all the
excuses she could have used, why did that pop into her head? In any
case, he probably would not question her about following him when they
had first met.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! She silently cursed herself. Her head felt
like it was splitting already, and everything still seemed a little
hazy, but otherwise she felt that she had a good grip over her wits.
Kiyoshi sat across from her with his legs crossed with his eyes
piercing hers. Kimiko challengingly stared back, though she could
barely even sit up on her own at the moment. Earlier when she had
tried to explain the situation to him, he brushed her off by saying,
"Later," then left. It stung to think about how he probably thought of
her now, but at least she could set the record straight.

The limousine hummed quietly as it traveled the windy streets of
Nerima. The thick, tinted windows obscured all but the brightest of
Tokyo's lights, and those only shown through faintly. A few hidden
lamps lit the spacious interior of the car, but she almost wished it
were dark, so she would not have to return Kiyoshi's stare.

He turned his head, though, to look out the window on his right.
She turned too, to watch as the lights blurred by, streaking in her
vision. Slowly regaining her composure and her breath, Kimiko sat up
and formed her back to the contour of the backrest. The cool, smooth
leather felt refreshing under her skin. She could barely make out the
slight frown on his face, and the incline of his brows.

Unable to wait any longer, Kimiko said, "It's not what it seemed
like earlier, Kiyoshi," emphasizing his name.

Her older brother did not respond, still staring out the window.
Usually he was pretty open with his feelings, but not now. He did
shrug a few moments later, but did not even turn to face her.

"I'm telling the truth," she relented, leaning forward on her
knees. "I was feeling really dizzy and I fell on him. We didn't do
anything." She sighed in exasperation to his silence after that, and
then frowned at him.

"Why explain to me?" he asked, rotating his head to look at her.
"You're an adult and can make your own decisions. For all I care, you
can play with whoever you want." His icy words stung her, and she
winced as if she had been slapped. Turning back to the window, he
rested his right arm against it, and then hid his face.

"You don't believe me," she whispered back, fighting the rush of
emotions assaulting her with no little amount of anger. It was not so
hard after so much practice of bundling them up, and without she
probably would have been crying already. "I'm not lying, you know. We
didn't do anything Amanda wouldn't have approved of."

An exhausted sigh passed from his lips, as if he had carried a
burden for centuries, finally able to let it fall from his shoulders.
He closed his eyes and slouched in his seat. "I'm sorry." Snapping up
straight, Kiyoshi opened his eyes and stared down at his shoes. "I
didn't mean that. It's just that when I saw you with him like that, I
felt betrayed somehow." Sighing again, he looked up at her. "It's
really hard to explain."

"It's okay," Kimiko softly told him. It was the story of her life
anyway, embarrassing situations, misread signals, etc. At the very
least, she was not sporting any new bruises anymore from it anymore,
just from the 'normal' fights. "And you have every right to be mad if
I had done what it seemed like I was doing."

Shaking his head, Kiyoshi stated, "I think that's exactly why I
felt angry." He blinked, then turned and scooted across the car to
steal the seat next to her. Putting his arm over her shoulder, he
stated, "It's because I have no right to do anything, no right to be
mad. You are an adult, and you are responsible for your own actions.
I've been deluding myself into thinking you're something that you're
not the entire time I've been helping you get back on your feet."
Leaning his head back, Kiyoshi closed his eyes.

Although she could concede his point, Kimiko almost did not want
to agree. All along, he was the older brother she had never had in her
childhood, a proper role model she had lacked, and a loving,
responsible adult that would hopefully always be there when she needed
him. It had never really occurred to her much before of how deeply she
loved him, like a real sister would love a brother. It was really too
bad that he was not her real brother, so that he would have the right
to a place in her life in his own mind, though he owned one none-the-
less. Twenty years ago would have been a different story, but this was
definitely not twenty years ago.

"You're wrong," she told him, pulling his arm to enwrap her more.
It felt so right to her as she rested her head against his chest, if
not just a little bit odd having the positions reversed from what she
had grown used to. But whatever, she was tired of criticizing herself.

"I am?" He sounded confused as he put his other arm around her,
clasping his hands together.

"Yup," she replied playfully. Holding his arms, she ran her hands
down the length of his soft silk shirt. "You have every right to be
mad, and you know why?"

"No, I don't," he whispered. "Tell me."

Her face felt a little flushed, but luckily it was dark and he was
not staring at her. "You earned the right," she emphatically told him.
"I owe you so much, and you owe me nothing. And whether you think so
or not, you are a part of my life, my only family. I realized that
when I was in California, and especially when we got back and everyone
became strangers. That piece of paper that says we're family doesn't
mean anything. It's what you've done for me that makes it real. I want
that. I want you to be a part of my life, now and forever."

As she waited for his reply, it was an uneasy silence for her to
withstand. Speaking from the heart had never been an easy thing for
her, and this was hardly exception. Meaning every word that she had
spoken, Kimiko gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, in the arms of a
person she would have been all to grateful to have called father so
long ago.

No one else but Akane had ever made her feel truly comfortable,
and even then, it was only in the final stage of their relationship.

"I would be honored, Kimiko Nishiyama," Kiyoshi whispered
solemnly, hugging her gently. "I feel the same way. You know, I've
always been so alone throughout my life, but not recently, not
anymore. You've really made my life more complete than it's ever been.
And because of that, our debts to one another are cancelled." He
paused, nuzzling her hair with his face. "I guess I was scared that
you didn't need me anymore since you seem to have found a life and
place with the Tendous again."

As the car pulled to a stop at a light, Kimiko wondered about his
last words. Had she found a place among the Tendous, as a friend to
the children of her former fiancee? Granted they certainly liked her
plenty, would that be enough for life to be tolerable so close to
Akane? Could she live in the shadow of Akane's husband, forever
glancing at the woman who should have been hers? Although her pride
answered yes, that she could do it, her heart adamantly replied no,
all the while her mind only gave reasons to both stay and leave. The
whole thing felt like she was being dragged in both directions and her
arms were beginning to tear off.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

Shrugging in reply, Kimiko sighed as her only answer. There were
no plans for tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Life was already
pushing enough in her face to deal with that plans could only make
things more complicated. There were her remaining feelings for Akane
and the awkwardness with Kenichi for starters, while further on the
agenda laid the curse, Lily, and any number of smaller problems.
"If you're not doing anything, why not come with me to visit some
old associates of mine? I talked with them a week before, and they're
dying to meet you. And I did sort of promise that I would introduce
you."

"Okay," Kimiko agreed quickly, having nothing better to do as it
was. Even as she thought about it, she had not promised the Tendous
anything for the following day anyway. Plus, it would be quite
interesting to meet some of Kiyoshi's 'old associates,' though just
how old they were, she could only speculate. "Who are they?"

Kiyoshi hummed in reply, but took a moment to answer. "You'll
really have to just wait and see. We're meeting at a Karaoke bar,
around six or seven. That still sound okay with you?"

"That's fine," she agreed, following that with a yawn. "What about
before then? Are you busy?"

"Unfortunately," he affirmed sadly.

The journey continued, but their conversation was at its end for
the time being. Between the smooth ride and the warmth, Kimiko began
to drift in and out of sleep. Her brief sleep was pleasantly devoid of
dreams, especially since her last. It had been so disturbing that it
rendered the precious moments of rest she had obtained while
unconscious nearly useless.

A slight nudge roused her and she peeped her eyes open. Kiyoshi
smiled down at her, and she sat up, realizing that she had been lying
across the bench seat. The ride was over, having taken them to their
destination, and Kimiko wearily rested her bare feet on the soft
carpeting of the limousine.

"I forgot my shoes at the Tendou's," she stated with a slurred
voice.

"I can carry you," he offered as the driver opened the door for
them to exit.

"No thanks," Kimiko replied, groggily following him. When offered,
she took his arm and they went through the hotel until they arrived at
the room.

Under absolutely no illusion that she would stay awake much
longer, Kimiko walked straight to and plopped on her bed. The digital
clock next her read 10:39, but it felt so much later. That fight had
been worth every ounce of energy she lacked now. It was the closest
thing to a real fight that she probably would experience for a long
time, mostly since no fiancees or rivals would be coming for her now.

Though she did not even take off her clothes yet, the moment she
settled her body comfortably, exhaustion consumed her.



Resting his head against the backboard of the hotel bed, Kiyoshi
stared at the door to the room. With the comforter bundled up by his
feet, leaving only the top sheet to cover him, he controlled his
breathing, inhaling and exhaling incredibly slowly. Something within
him was bursting, but he firmly held it in check, unwilling to let
anything reach the surface.

How was he supposed to feel about this? These emotions were
unfamiliar to him. A century of pain was enough to rob anyone of heart
felt pleasure, and even the very memory of it. And now, someone
extremely close to him, closer than he had been to nearly anyone,
someone whom he feared he might reject with these emotions was evoking
them.

There was no doubt in his heart, mind or soul that what he was
experiencing was love, and yet he did not wish to recognize it. To do
so might de-evolve him back into the monster he once was, and he would
rather fall straight into hell than repeat that past. Love was only a
derivative of lust, and lust is candy to the body, but ultimately
torture to the soul, his soul.

And yet, that did not make any sense to him. He did not lust after
her. He had not lusted after anyone since his reformation, within his
conscious control, and somehow he knew that what he felt for his
charge, his new sister, Kimiko was not lust.

What was it then, a love a father might have for a daughter, a
brother for a sister? Or was it something more? Kiyoshi simply did not
have the experience to discern the answer to his grave problem.
Questioning it only brought him more confusion, so he would need to
sort his feelings, and hopefully shed some light on the situation.

On one hand, he truly admired her. Kimiko's perseverance through
the worst of situations, and her amazing ability to pull her wits
together after something as traumatic as she had gone through were
nothing less than astounding. The experience would have killed a
lesser person, and it would have probably tried Kiyoshi to the limit
as well.

On the other hand, he thought her attractive, inside as well as
out. Underneath, he saw the soul forged of steel, as brilliant as it
was beautiful. Fighting beside her or against her, he felt the rush of
her spirit brushing against him. She was so powerful, and held the
ability for so much more, that he could not help but to be tantalized
by it. To work with her so that she might reach her fullest potential
was enough to keep him living another century or two, if it would be
required of him to fulfill it.

Without, she was a beauty as well. From the way she approached a
fight, sauntering over to her opponent like a lethal viper, to the
time the sun sparkled off her skin when he had taken her to the
southern California beaches, he could not think of words to express
the anxiety he felt. If not even for that, her smile easily broke past
his inner defenses, even occasionally stealing away his wits.

If it had not been for that moment in the car when Kimiko fell
asleep against him, he might not have even come to realize what he was
dealing with now. She had seemed so helpless in his arms with her hair
splashed up against him, and then she had turned to face him, propped
up on her left shoulder with her head resting against his right arm
like a pillow. It had hit him so strongly when she reached around his
waist and hugged him tightly, whispering softly in her sleep. His
spine had tingled, and that feeling seemed to have spread all over his
body.

Breaking his concentration, Kiyoshi kicked off his sheets and
swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Could that have
been love? He wondered. He wondered if fathers had ever felt like that
holding their daughters, so close to their child, sharing a bond that
defied explanation and logic. Was that it? Could all that he have felt
for her merely be a strong attachment he had developed over the year
he had been training her?

Although it seemed that way, he did not think it was the complete
answer. He was a father to her in some ways, but their relationship
was filled with entirely too much mutual respect for each other to
simply write off everything with such an explanation. There was
definitely something else to the equation. He needed to find out what
that was and control it, before it could ever gain the possibility of
controlling him. In his life, his profession and with his past, there
simply was no room for unsolved mysteries.

Lowering himself off the bed, his feet met the cool, wooden floor.
The pant legs of his pajama bottoms fell into place, tickling his
ankles. Adjusting his long sleeved top, he walked to the door and
opened it. The small hall was completely dark, because the room to
both Kimiko's room and the living room were both closed tightly, and
his room was already entirely pitch black.

Cautiously turning the knob to Kimiko's door, he took a deep
breath. As he pushed the door open, he quietly tiptoed into the room,
and then shut the door behind him. Her soft, slow-rhythm breathing
keyed him in to realize that she slept very soundly. Feeling his way
through the dark, he found the foot of her bed and walked around to
its side.

From the sound of her breathing, he judged her to be in the middle
of the bed, so he sat on the edge with his back to her. Reaching to
the bedside table, he found the lamp and switched it on. It only shed
a soft light with the first twist, and he had no need for any more
light.

Turning around to face her, he nearly chuckled at the sight.
Completely dressed in all but her missing shoes, Kimiko lay on her
side with both hands under her head, knees bunched up to her chest,
and her mouth slightly open. She looked like she had in the car, so
peaceful, innocent and so utterly helpless. A smile shaped on his lips
as he watched her sleep.

At times, Kimiko acted just as well as any adult and just as
maturely, yet put in a situation with children, she would promptly
shift her attitude to coincide with theirs. It seemed as if there was
a struggle inside of her for dominance, the child that was never
allowed to be and the adult she had grown up to become. It was the
child inside of her that made him feel like a father to her, and it
was the adult within her that confused his emotions.

Right now the child in her beckoned to him. Leaning over, he slid
her skirt off and then tossed it over onto the chair in the corner of
the room. Drawing upon years of experience, he removed her bra without
even ruffling her blouse, and then tossed that on top of her skirt. As
she drew herself up into a ball, already shivering from the chill in
the room, Kiyoshi sneaked the comforter from beneath her, sliding it
to her feet. Lastly, he then covered her with it, tucking her in
tightly so that only her head poked out.

Satisfied, Kiyoshi paused at her bedside for a moment. Reaching
over, he clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness once
more. With a departing sigh, he turned and walked to door. As his hand
hovered above the doorknob, he stopped.

"Kiyoshi?"

The whisper came from Kimiko, and he turned back around just as
the lamp switched on again. Rubbing her face with one hand, and
holding herself upright with the other, Kimiko groggily yawned.

"It's me," he answered, calmly standing by the door. "I'm sorry I
woke you."

"Don't worry 'bout it," she said, propping herself against the
headboard. "Something the matter?"

Taking a deep breath, Kiyoshi wondered about that himself. Was
there a real reason why he came here, maybe hoping that she would wake
for him to speak with her.

"Why don't you sit?" Patting the space next to her, she smiled at
him, the same smile that he had thought about earlier. The adult
within her was now in control, he could tell. Her easy smile, and the
warm look in her eyes radiated comfort, it seemed, and he could only
smile back.

Walking around the bed again, he sat where she had indicated with
his back to her. Unsure of what to say, of how he could explain his
feelings to her, Kiyoshi remained silent in thought.

"You wouldn't have come in here if something wasn't on your mind,"
she whispered in his ear. Draping her arms around him, she loosely
hugged his back and rested her chin on his right shoulder. "Now tell
me what's wrong, and don't give me any excuses either."

Shrugging helplessly, Kiyoshi sat in silence for a moment before
responding. "I couldn't sleep, so I went to check up on you and tuck
you in." He felt bad about not divulging the entirety of his plight,
but he did tell the truth. Even knowing she would not buy that as the
whole story, he still did not know what he could tell her.



"Thank you," Kimiko told her older brother, fondly tightening her
hug for a moment. Even as she loosened her grip, she remained holding
onto him. This way, he would not have a chance to escape before
answering her question correctly. "I don't even remember falling
asleep. You undressed me?"

"Yeah," he replied softly.

"What a nice older brother you are," she teased. Sitting back, she
released him and rested against the backboard of the bed. Kiyoshi
still faced away from her, staring at the floor. Curious to know what
brought him here, she asked him again. "Now tell me why you really
came in here. What's bothering you?"

"I really don't even know," he answered, turning his body to half
face her. The tone of his voice suggested he was trying to tell her
something greater, because it was so serious. "It doesn't matter
anyway."

Already feeling rejuvenated from her short rest, Kimiko lifted her
leg, and planted her foot squarely on his back with enough momentum to
drive him to the floor. Breaking into giggles when his body met the
wooden floor, she clutched her stomach.

"Funny," Kiyoshi muttered as he rose from the floor.

Nodding with agreement, Kimiko stopped laughing and only returned
his glare with a smile. Sometimes he could be much too serious, and
the next moment he would act like a little kid again. She just wished
he would make up his mind.

"If you're not going to tell me, at least make up something good.
I was having a nice dream for once, and you interrupted it. Now sit
down, facing me, and spit it out." Having seriously drawn her line,
Kimiko crossed her arms and waited for him.

With his hands indignantly placed on his hips, looking over to the
door, Kiyoshi stood silently for a moment. He then shrugged and
crawled up onto her bed to the very center where he crossed his legs
and sat facing her. His steel gray eyes searched for something around
the room, as if he was seeing it for the first time.

Shaking her head, Kimiko pointed directly at his face, taking his
attention. "Look here," she told him, and then pointed a finger back
at herself. "No evading me like that. Just tell me and get it over
with. What are you scared of?"

"I'm scared of many things, Kimiko-chan," he replied stoically,
now returning her stare. "But most of all, the fear that brought me
here tonight." He blinked, building the drama, then folded his hands
together, interlacing his fingers.

"Well, what is it?" she asked, curious what one of the fiercest
martial artists on the planet was afraid of.

"Losing you," he answered so seriously that she had no doubt to
the truth of his words.

Blinking in disbelief, she peered at him. "What do you mean,
losing me? Come on, that doesn't make any sense. I'm not going
anywhere without you."

"That's not how I meant," he began. "I was thinking more to the
lines of losing you spiritually. From what I heard of your last
battle, you weren't quite up to your usual standards, and in fact,
quite distracted through a great portion of the fight."

Shrugging him off, she began feeling a little defensive. This was
definitely not something she felt like discussing, right now of all
times. She knew what he was getting at, and it bothered her. Had they
not already talked this over once?

"I had a few things on my mind," she admitted, turning her head.
"But, I got back in there once I realized Rintaro was so serious.
Nothing serious. It's not like I lost or anything." Before he even
said it, Kimiko knew his rebuttal would lie around her having fallen
unconscious after the fight.

"For all intensive purposes, you did lose. You were not on your
mark, you took a beating, and you underestimated your enemy. I thought
you were past all these amateur mistakes?" When Kimiko glanced at him
briefly, she caught his intense glare.

"Ok, so I messed up," she conceded. "I'll do better next time, big
brother." Flashing her eyelashes at him, she giggled when he rolled
his eyes. "Seriously, Kiyoshi. You really need to lighten up a little.
It's not like my life was at stake." Though she had to admit she did
take it too seriously at the time, she knew he was above harping on a
few mistakes she had already realized that she made.

"Sorry, but that's not what actually has me concerned."

Here it comes, she thought to herself as the smile faded from her
face. "And what would that be, then?"

"I'm sure you already know, little sister," he whispered.

"Enlighten me." If he was going to bring it up, he would have to
say it himself. There was no way that she would let him fool her into
blurting anything out.

"Akane," he stated. The name itself sounded strange coming from
his lips as he spoke it. "You have bottling up your feelings for her,
not allowing yourself to grieve."

Ignoring the growing tightness in her chest, she shook her head in
fervent denial. She wanted to shout back, and speak every foul word in
her vocabulary for both English and Japanese, but she did not because
she knew he was right. Her watery eyes were enough to discredit her
regardless of what she had to say anyway.

"I'm sorry, love, but I'm right." He closed his eyes and yawned.
"Your first love, the woman you were supposed to marry has taken
another, and you can't even acknowledge that you're hurt. Well, you
can act like that, but it doesn't change anything, except make things
worse for you. And for me. And for anyone who comes within a thirty-
meter radius. Don't hide your feelings, especially from me. Otherwise,
you'll never recover." He stopped and opened his eyes.

"What would you know about it, Kiyoshi?" She glared at him to
prove her point, but instead of the usual jocular, cynical remark or
some universal truth that she might have expected, he stunned her with
the sincerity and content of his next words.

"I had someone once," Kiyoshi quietly remarked, his voice solemn
and serious. The twinkle in his eyes dimmed and the vitality of his
manner diminished. He returned her stare, almost indignantly as he
prepared to recount a tale long secured in the far reaches of his
past, which was lukewarm at best. His steel-gray eyes fell to the
side, unable to keep eye contact.

"Really?" Kimiko innocently asked, drawing closer to her
benefactor, intensely interested and surprised by his sudden openness.
"Please tell me about it. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It was a very long time ago," he admitted, resting his arms
across his chest. He took a deep, sorrowful breath, but he did not
withdraw from her and began a truthful tale. "I was in my early
twenties." As he began, his seriousness faded slightly, returning the
life previously occupying him, releasing some of Kimiko's worry over
the man. "I was young and handsome, and she was only one year my
junior, and very beautiful." He toyed with his shirtsleeves, staring
intently at them, but his lips curled into a slight grin.

"Handsome?" she asked, grinning smartly.

"Okay, so maybe I wasn't the most attractive person in the world,"
he gave in, returning her infectious smile. "Or tall, for that
matter." She giggled a bit and he let her finish for him to continue.
"I was about your height now, and though I wasn't the greatest looker
in the world, I wasn't ugly either. I met the would-be love of my life
then. She was a farmer's daughter, a rich farmer, and I was a poor
man's son, an unlikely and unwelcome match for her." The bitterness he
expressed was muted by time, but Kimiko still could hear it in his
tones. Time could make things hurt less, but it can never fully make
things better. "Needless to say, things didn't work out as I
fantasized."

"When was this?" Kimiko interjected as he paused, intrigued with
the knowledge.

"It was almost twenty years before the first World War," he
answered, rubbing his arms nervously. He continued with his tale. For
the first time since she had come to know him as he presently was, he
truly sounded his own age. Beauty was just a mask he wore, covering an
ancient, tortured soul. The coldness of his eyes was warmed by his
admission, and the darkness receded from his face. "I met her on a
cloudy, starless night a month before the harvest moon. I was running
a task for my father when I saw her for the first time. The waxing
moon poked through clouds, its light dancing on her pale skin. Her
long black hair shined, and her skin glowed. She was unlike anyone I
had ever seen. My heart pounded fast in my chest, and my cheeks
flushed. I can only imagine how foolish I must have looked, gawking at
her as I had as she sat on the edge of the village well."

From his pajama pocket on his left breast, he pulled a white silk
handkerchief. Kimiko noted the reverence with which he held it,
unconsciously stroking it with his thumb as he held it in the palm of
his right hand. He sighed wistfully before he continued. "She did not
even spare me a glance, though I gave her my complete attention. Had I
decided to concentrate on completing the task set forth by my father,
I might have saved myself from love, but instead I gathered my wits
and introduced myself." He paused, replacing the handkerchief in his
pocket.

"Don't stop now," Kimiko playfully whined.

Kiyoshi nodded with a weak grin. "She looked up at me after I said
my name, and she smiled. It sent waves of energy through my body. I
knew that smile was meant for me, and then she told me her name. I
remarked that it was a nice night and she agreed. She offered me a
seat next to her, but I politely protested, saying that I had a task
to complete. We bid each other farewell, and I went on my own way." He
paused again, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "We kept running
into each other after that, but in reality, we finally noticed one
another. We lived in a small town, one that her father virtually
owned.

"One night, she appeared at my window, her face bruised, blood
streaked on her cheeks." Kimiko gasped, completely absorbed within his
tale. "I asked her what had happened, but she lied and said that she
fell off her horse. I did not believe her, but I kept my opinion to
myself. I went with her to a lake that night, and held her until it
was nearly dawn."

A tear broke free, spilling onto his cheek. He shut his eyes. "We
spent more time together after that, in secret. It was harmless,
innocent companionship, and yet love started to bloom. I spent my days
in agony, needing her every moment, waiting until I could see her
again, and I spent my nights holding her, kissing her, staring into
her eyes.

"And like a fairy tale gone bad, it ended one night."

"What do you mean?" Kimiko asked, empathizing with him. "Did she
break it off?"

"No," he replied solemnly. "One night, she appeared at my window
again. I hardly recognized her out of her silk dresses. She wore a
traveler's clothes and had a big pack on her back. Her only words
were, 'Come with me.' And so I jumped out my window, having prepared
for our tryst. She begged me to run away with her, to put as much
distance between our home as we could. I never thought about such a
thing before -- it just simply never occurred to me." He stopped, his
eyes still shut as a few tears streaked down his face.

"You went with her right?"

Kiyoshi opened his red, watery eyes and looked into hers, deadly
serious. "No." The word carried like varnish, peeling away her
eardrums. "I didn't."

"What do you mean, 'I didn't'?" She clenched her first, staring at
him in shock. "You had the love of your life in front of you, willing
to travel with you to the ends of the earth if need be, and you said
'no'?" She could hardly control herself as she glowered at him.

"I mean just that. I did not go with her." His eyes stared back,
challenging, the darkness returned to him. "I told her that I had to
think about it -- that there were things I had to do. I couldn't just
leave my father like that...since my mother passed on, only he and I
remained at the house. Did I have the right to indulge myself like
that, at my father's expense?"

"Yes!" Kimiko shouted, screaming in his face. "You had every right
to do that!" She sat, regaining her composure, pulling the covers up
to cover her up to the neck. "You didn't have a right to turn her down
though."

Kiyoshi nodded, glancing at his feet. "You're right of course." He
looked back up at her, finishing his tale. "She said she understood,
dropped her staff and the handkerchief which I keep in my pocket to
this day. She married a stranger that next day. Her father had
arranged a marriage for her, and until she met me, she had resigned
herself to never love anyone."

He fell silent after that, fingering the scarf in his pocket.
Kimiko could not respond, yet she felt the need to offer some sort of
comfort, especially after her earlier criticism. She brushed the
scarlet bangs from her eyes, and he looked at her, nodding.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, and she looked into his steel gray
eyes. They were flushed with tears. Yet he did not shy his face from
her as she would have in embarrassment.

"Don't be," he replied calmly as a tear streaked down his right
cheek. "It's long past, but wounds to the heart never completely heal.
I may not know what you're going through, but I know how it feels to
love someone and then lose them." He lowered his head and the tear
fell from his face, absorbed by the bed. "I never saw her again after
that. I didn't have the courage to face her for my crimes, and it ate
away at me until I became the sociopath you knew me to be before."
Raising his head, he smiled. "Don't let the pain eat you from the
inside out. I became an uncaring monster, and that slowly turned to
perversion -- I did not care how others felt about it." He paused for
a moment.

"I won't," Kimiko lied, as she could already feel the gnawing pain
within her, love forever lost, burning away virtue, sparing only vice.
Her thoughts returned to her own situation, agony from its poisoned
blade seeping into her, coursing through her veins. Still reeling from
the news of Akane's new life, she regarded her own. With but a few
friends, she had dared to hope to overcome the emptiness.

"Don't even think that life is over just because your fiancee
married someone else," Kiyoshi told her as if reading her thoughts. "I
know you, Ranma Saotome, and I know you to be a fighter, to the death
if required of you." Her name burned in her mind as he continued. "If
I were to tell you that the world was going to end tomorrow, and
nothing you can do would stop it, would you even try?"

Kimiko considered his question for a moment, and then answered.
"Of course. You know how many times I've heard that?" The scowl she
did not even know was there dissipated from her face and a lopsided
grin took its place.

"Well, now fate is telling you that you will never love another
again, and that your life is over. Are you just going to roll over and
die?"

"No!" she replied, throwing away the covers in outrage. "Of course
I'm not giving up! Not when..." She paused, realizing what she had
been about to say. Not when her revenge laid unfulfilled.

"Not when what, Kimiko?" He whispered harshly. "Not when you still
have a score to settle with a man who has eighteen years on you? Not
when you have to train to be able to defeat him? Now when what? Or not
when you still have a life to live, love to find, and friends to be
with?"

"I don't know, Kiyoshi," she whispered, gathering the sheets
around her again. "I just don't know. I never once imagined my life
without Akane. I was so confident that a miracle would pull me through
this, and we'd live happily ever after like it's supposed to be."
Shaking her head, she continued. "How many times do I have to tell
myself it's over? How long must I delude myself like Kunou did? I bet
he still wonders where the evil sorcerer Saotome has taken his pig-
tailed girl, but even he's not crazy enough to think that anything's
going to happen after eighteen years!"

"Not unless Gosunguki's heir hits you with a working love spell,
and the first person you see is Kunou," Kiyoshi pointed out with a
grin.

Staring at him for a moment, she tried to comprehend his words
with her anger-clouded mind. Then, she suddenly burst out into
laughter, clutching her sides.

"Oh God, that wasn't funny," she hoarsely whispered between gasps
for air. "That's why you're a stuffy business man, and not a
comedian."

"Hey," Kiyoshi protested. "At least it broke your 'poor me'
speech."

"I was not feeling sorry for myself!" Kimiko snapped, frowning. "I
was simply saying...oh, you're right." She wiped her eyes with her arm
and shrugged. "So what should I do now, all-knowing, super intelligent
leader?"

With an ominous smile, Kiyoshi slid off the back of her bed, still
facing her. As he drew backwards, opening the door, he turned. "Go to
sleep."

"Ahh!" she cried, throwing a pillow at the door as he shut it
behind him. Sitting upright still, Kimiko felt neither the desire nor
the need to sleep more. She felt strangely energetic for minimal sleep
and an exhausting previous day. Looking at the digital clock by her
bedside, she read, "3:54."

Shaking her head, she wondered aloud, "After all of that, he
expects me to sleep?"

* * *

The neon lights of Tokyo lit the pre-dawn morning, leaving no room
for the natural darkness. Something about the city always left him
feeling nauseous. Whether the putrid, carbon dioxide polluted air, the
perpetual motion of vehicles through its streets, or the thumping,
sickly out of tune music burning his ears, the city always found a new
way to disgust him, every time he found his way back. If it had been a
choice of his, he never would return, but fate always led him here.

Although not nearly as bad as the day, Tokyo nights were still
more busy than most urban centers of the world. Passing more than a
few love hotels, the man repressed a shudder just at the thought of
the filth which must pass through their doors every day and night.
Could he have found any worse place to be this night? Simply being
in Japan reminded him of his family, and that was never a good thing.
It was far better to be lost where he did not even know the language,
where his concerns only consisted of finding his next meal, or finding
shelter to avoid the rain. Here in Tokyo, he had a place, and somehow
he always found it.

The streets were devoid of people, except for the occasional neon
armored enforcer. Those were just another reason to avoid this God
forsaken city. They would always demand to see his papers, and even
after double checking them with their magic little portable computer
scanners, they would still call into their headquarters for a third
check. Even then, they would most likely follow him until they
satisfied their tiny little minds that he planned no misdeeds.

An enforcer was approaching him now, the bright red baton lit with
stunning electricity, helmet and face shield glowing with enough light
to bestow the officer with night vision and a portable computer
screen. When his eldest son was no higher than his knee, the child had
declared to the world that he would be the "bestest" law enforcer
ever. He still thanked the heavens that his son changed his mind,
because it seemed that the equipment killed brain cells to him. Not
one of these jokers ever took his word, or even his papers, at face
value.

The neon red enforcer held out his baton when the distance between
them was only about ten feet. A light, very feminine voice called out
to him through the amplification of her shoulder speaker. "What are
you doing out here this early?"

"Minding my own business," he replied coldly, provoking her for
lack of a better thing to do. Maybe this one would try to push her
magic wand at him. That would be very much fun, especially when he saw
the look on her face when she realized the weight he carried in
society.

"Show me your identification papers," she stated neutrally, much
to his disappointment. There would be no fight with her this morning.

From an easy to reach spot from his jacket pocket, he retrieved
the small card and the curfew breach authorization papers, and then
handed them to her. Although he did not need to show the papers, since
the card contained the information when it was scanned, he carried it
anyway, more to show that he did not steal the identification card
than anything.

The enforcer did not even consider the paper, rather she simply
scanned the card with the bracelet on her wrist. They waited a moment,
and then the activity on her red tinted face shield showed that it was
checked with her computer.

"Thank you, sir," she replied cordially, handing him his papers.
"Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice morning."

With a brash nod, the man walked past the officer, continuing his
aimless journey. A huge digital clock on a large tower on his left
read 4:37. The city streets were so bright that it could have been
noon for all he would have been able to tell, except for the lack of
the sun. No clouds shrouded the night sky, but instead was the glare
of a hundred million burning streetlights and buildings, all reflected
on the haze of smog. The moon tonight was barely bright enough to be
noticeable in the sky.

It would be dawn within an hour or two. Hopefully, he would be out
of the city by then, but he doubted it. Something always had to happen
before he could leave again. That probably meant going home. If that
would be his fate, so be it. He would face his wife and his children,
no matter how better off they were without him.

* * *

5:12.

Kimiko waited while every second passed by, silently lying in the
darkness. Even with the comforter and sheets thrown to the foot of the
bed, the enclosed warmth of the room was still quite uncomfortable.
Thoroughly plastered to her chest with sweat, the huge shirt she wore
made it all the harder to fall asleep. Considering the day before and
her lack of rest, she would have thought herself to be sleeping
soundly by now. Twisting restlessly, she turned on her side.

It was safe to assume she would not be going to fall asleep any
time soon, so she sat up in her bed, swinging her feet over the edge.
She thought about what to do, since there were still several hours
until dawn. According to Kiyoshi, Tokyo now had a strict curfew, which
could not be broken without legal permission. Although it was still
dark, she doubted that it would still be in effect.

"Lights," she whispered, warding the darkness from the room as her
the voice activated globe in the center of the bedroom.

Before meeting Kiyoshi, she would have never even conceived of
such luxurious accommodations. To say that she enjoyed it was
completely off base. For her, someone who was used to the bare minimum
in the ways of comfort, the hotel symbolized what she was not and
never had. Having one's own personal bathroom attached to a room,
which was bigger than most living rooms, took a little getting
adjusting to. As she stood, she was tempted to walk in the hall to
find the bathroom, but swiftly redirected herself.

Finding the sink, she put her hands underneath the faucet,
activating the cold water. It was so chilled that it stung her skin,
as if the pipes were frozen, spitting out fine chunks of ice rather
than water. Soap automatically mixed with the water as it grew warm,
something which took even greater getting used to than having her own
bathroom; after which, the plain water then coursed out, rinsing her
hands clean. As she removed her them from the sink, the water ceased.
The wonders of technology seemed to be designed for the lazy.

Stripping to her panties, Kimiko walked to the shower and turned
it on. Hot water immediately flowed from the head, steaming as it met
with the cool air in the bathroom.

"Cold," she stated.

As she tested it with her hand, the stream of water almost
instantly changed in temperature, from tolerably hot to icy cold, just
the way she liked it. Shedding the final garment, she plunged herself
face first into the near freezing water. After the uncomfortable,
sweaty lack of sleep, this was like a breath of fresh air.

Minutes after cleaning properly, Kimiko she was dressed in sweats
and sneakers ready to take a real breath of fresh air, although Tokyo
was hardly the place for it. It felt odd being up so early, especially
considering the time she would usually wake. After a brief elevator
ride, she walked into the lobby and up to the front desk.

"Madam?" The concierge asked after sipping from a cup of steaming
hot coffee.

"If my brother, Kiyoshi Nishiyama, asks where I went," she began,
beginning some leg stretches. "Tell him I went on a jog."
"Of course, Nishiyama-san," the man replied with a nod. "Is there
anything else I can do for you?"

"No, and thanks," she concluded, leaving the hotel.

Expecting the darkness of the early morning, Kimiko had forgotten
that she was in Tokyo, the most annoyingly bright city in the world.
The night felt like day. Heavy clouds covered the sky, illuminated
dark purple by the city's lights, masking the moon and the stars,
though the latter would have been washed out regardless. The streets
were practically devoid of pedestrians, though cars streaked by in an
endless chain of shiny metal.

The air was thick with carbon dioxide pollution, but she could
ignore the sour odor for a while. When she had asked the front desk
about places to run when she arrived, the attendant had mentioned a
park that was not too far off from the hotel, and from his
description, she was under the impression that had cleaner air than
the rest of the city and was a pleasant place to exercise. She would
have preferred a nice spar with one of the twins--both if she was not
still sore from yesterday--but a nice run would help with her sore
muscles. In fact, Kimiko thought that she even remembered the park.

As she began her jog at a brisk pace across the paved concrete
sidewalks, Kimiko read the different neon signs. She was glad to be
back in Japan, where she did not have to think about all of the
letters before understanding them. Japanese and English mixed about as
well as oil and water, but she was beginning to decipher them on paper
with similar proficiency. Unfortunately though, much had changed in
the Japanese language that the Kanji on some of the signs were
unfamiliar, sending her right back to feeling like an outsider.

But she was an outsider, technically. According to her visa, she
was a citizen of the United States, not Japan. Just speaking the
language had not been enough to alleviate the prejudice, and make one
an accepted resident of Japan. As of yet, she had not experienced any
problems in this regard. Had the city, the people, changed that much?

The difficulty, or lack there of, seemed inconsequential compared
to the reality shaping around her. Just as the streets widened and the
skyscrapers became sparse, she wondered if her horizons, her future,
had yet been determined. Never a firm believer in any religion, Kimiko
had long ago decided to make herself the best person she could in
order to avoid the issue of devoting oneself to a particular religion
in order save one's soul.

That did not mean she had not looked into a few of the more
popular ones. Many were recipes for predestination: the idea that the
fate of humans was determined by some divine being or beings; the
others called for the free will of humans, undetermined by the divine.
The whole idea of it made her want to stop thinking about things that
she would never be able to discover while still breathing, though at
times she could not help wondering.

Was it fate, some divine presence, that brought things together as
they did, her separation from the ones she had loved and the
consequential reunion, or was it just a random act set forth by the
major players in her life? She could not help but wonder why
everything had to end as it did, forever tearing her from Akane and
forever sealing away that part of herself she so desired back.

Stopping at a four-way intersection, Kimiko stood, waiting for the
light to change. She looked around, and seeing no one around, she
jogged across the street. Not breathing heavily yet, she picked up the
pace as she ran across the squared concrete of Tokyo city. Around the
corner, the park awaited her.

"Give me your hand, Ranma," Akane had said to her so many years
ago at the same spot that Kimiko now intended to visit. The memory
seemed locked within folds of metal, each having been slowly unwrapped
with every moment she spent in Japan and around the Tendous.

"Why?" Ranma had demanded, effectually driving his foot down his
mouth.

"Fine then!" Akane had replied, spinning around and charging into
the park. "You can walk by yourself, baka."

"Wait up, Akane! I didn't mean it!"

Realizing that she had stopped, Kimiko cleared her throat and
headed in the park's direction. The gates to the only green in a city
of metal and concrete stood a block and a half from her, and she began
sprinting, as if they would close, forever locking her out.

"Why should I?" Akane's voice had cried out as she rushed through
the gates. An almost childlike giggle was what had followed Akane's
feigned anger. "I'm going to beat you there, Ranma!"

"No way!" Ranma had yelled, running after her as fast as he could.

Chasing the phantoms of her past, Kimiko gritted her teeth as she
ran towards the gates. Even now she could see herself chasing Akane
through them. Heedless of her path, she charged down the sidewalk,
concentrating on nothing but catching the two, a fleeting memory of a
past that was rightfully hers. As they disappeared from her sight, she
slammed into the metal bars of the closed gate with her arms extended.

"Wait for me!" Kimiko cried out, shaking the bars with all of her
strength. "Don't leave me..."

Footsteps echoed softly, slowly growing louder with the approach
of a stranger. She looked up as fresh tears blurred her vision, having
yet to slide down her cheeks. An elderly man wearing dreary gray
clothes and a wide brown hat stopped in front of her on the other side
of the closed gates. He smiled warmly.

"Please, don't cry, miss," he whispered, retrieving a key chain
from his pant pocket. With his other hand, he took a handkerchief from
the pocket of his gray shirt. Pushing it through the bars of the gate,
he handed it to her. "There, wipe those pretty eyes dry."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, drying around her eyes. She handed
it back when she finished. "Could you please open the gate?"

"Of course," he agreed, smiling warmly. He selected a key from the
mass of metal dangling from the key ring in his hand. Methodically
pushing it into the lock, he then twisted it. With a creak, the gate
lurched back slightly. "What is your name, young lady?"

Smiling despite herself, Kimiko helped him open the gates. "I'm
Kimiko Nishiyama." After bowing to the man, she pushed the gates open
until they locked into place.

"I am Hitoshi Yoshida, the caretaker of this garden." Resting up
against the gate, he paused. "What brings you here so early,
Nishiyama-san?"

Two light posts stood on either side of them, shining down so
brightly that the old man was forced to squint, causing his bushy
white brows to envelop his eyes. The man had two shadows, both barely
visible, like the gray of his clothes up against the white of the
sidewalk. They stood pointing away from each other, which if looked at
in a certain way, appeared to be shaped as a Y, with Yoshida-san as
the base of the letter and the two shadows as the V standing atop of
him.

"I was just jogging," Kimiko told him, staring down at her shoes.
"I didn't know that the garden closed at all. I'm sorry if I'm early."

"Oh, don't worry," Hitoshi replied, waving her in. "I'm just sorry
that I have to close the garden at all. Those with no where else to go
used to stay here at night, but the authorities did not like that, so
they ordered us to close the garden after sundown until dawn." Wiping
his forehead with his hand, he shook his head. "It's really a shame.
Even the unfortunate should be able to enjoy the flowers, even if they
only mean to sleep among them."

The two walked down the gravel path through a thick grove of
trees. The park was almost surreal in the midst of such a large city,
containing that which had ceased to exist everywhere else. Breathing
in deeply, Kimiko enjoyed how sweet the air seemed, almost untouched
by the polluters of the city. A light fog crept over their heads as
they walked the pack, but Kimiko barely noticed in her enjoyment.

"I didn't know they grew flowers here," she remarked, watching
each step she took, as her foot rose and fell, kicking up just a bit
of dirt with every one.

"When was the last time you visited the garden?" Hitoshi asked as
he walked beside her.

"It's been a long time," she admitted, not willing to tell him
just how many years it really had been. "I was little at the time, I
guess."

"Oh," he replied, stopping as they reached a fork intersection.
"Why don't we head towards lake?"

"Okay," she agreed, following his lead.

The sound of a bubbling brook trickling through the thick grove of
trees echoed in the distance off to her right as they took the left
path. Neatly divided in half by the path, the trees were an obvious
addition, because the last time Kimiko had been here there were almost
but a few. A field of green grass in all directions, with only the
buildings in the horizon was the sight that would have been seen here
twenty years ago.

"You'll never catch me, Ranma!" Akane had shouted back as she
sprinted across the field. Her yellow dress rippled in the wind like a
flag flown in the sky above. As Akane held onto her hat, her image
raced past Kimiko, shortly followed by the image of her former self.
He wore his usual outfit of black pants and a red Chinese shirt.
Kimiko looked at the gardener to see if he had seen the specters, but
the old man did not appear to notice them.

"I used to own a flower shop," Hitoshi told her, keeping his pace
beside her. "Flowers are good for the spirit. Their essence is both
physically and spiritually rejuvenating. I owe my health to them." He
paused, rubbing his chilled arms. "When my shop closed, I was offered
a position here to tend the new flower garden they had planted. That
was shortly after they imported these wonderful trees."

Though she had not forgot about her jog, listening to the gardener
talk about the park. He imparted many details about the beautiful
place as they walked down the path leading towards the lake in the
garden's center.

He stopped as they reached the enchanting lake, surrounded by
benches like an encirclement of rocks around the comfortable warmth of
a campfire. The lampposts filling the park shone brightly, reflecting
of the serene water. With summer's late dawn, artificial light would
spew here for hours yet, dispelling the natural feel of the garden.

"Please enjoy yourself here, Nishiyama-san. If you need anything,
I'll be in the garden just west of here."

"Thank you, Yoshida-san," Kimiko said. "I'm sure I will."
With that said, the two departed, the gardener to his flowers and
Kimiko to jog alongside the memories of her past.

The dirt trail softly crunched beneath her feet with every step
she took. Her surroundings blurred as she practically threw herself
down the path around the lake. Her lungs burned with each breath of
cold air she inhaled through her nose.

Controlling one's breathing was the key of longevity of one's
stamina. That she had learned as a small child, her father the
teacher, the endless road the obstacle.

Following directly behind Kimiko, a black shadow ran just as
quickly as she did, mimicking her steps perfectly. It grew darker as
it caught up to her, running beside her. She glanced at it casually,
watching it pass her with just as much ease. Lighter and lighter it
became as it drifted from her. Just as the first had, a second shadow
slowly materialized behind her, running swiftly on her heels. As the
second gained definition, the first lost its, slowly vanishing on the
dirt trail.

Turning to look at the second shadow, Kimiko accelerated her pace,
tearing down the path with abandon. Fated to be caught, she looked
down, watching it quickly catch up to her, to run beside her as the
first had moments before. Sliding to a halt on her heels, Kimiko
stared down at the shadow, which had only a slight lead on her, but it
had stopped as well. She turned, barely making out the form of a third
shadow waiting to take shape and join the race.

The first shadow had past her, left her behind and then vanished;
it was the past. The second now stood beside her, strong and healthy;
it was the present. The third shadow was only an image in the
distance, unclear and its shape undetermined; it was the future.

What shape would the third take? Would it be more similar to the
first, or the second? Time--it seemed to her--was the enemy, a timer
with no pause button, a race with no break or end. There were no
breathers for her this time. She could only pray that she would be
able to keep up.

But was time really the enemy? She wondered. It could have been
just an illusion to keep her from making the right choice.

Lily had warned her of three challenges; what were they? Kiyoshi
had told her that something dangerously wrong was approaching. Could
that have been what the spirit had warned her about?

As she ran, Kimiko thought of Kiyoshi for a moment, remembering
their talks and all the advice her had given her. It warmed her
thinking about him, because somehow he had become a part of her life,
so entrenched that she could not face her past without him. As much as
it wounded her pride to need someone, Kimiko found it easy to swallow
when it concerned Kiyoshi. It only recently occurred to her that it
was love that allowed her to do that.

Love was such an ambiguous term to her, especially now that she
could feel it without the fear of abandonment. Coming to terms with
something like that was difficult, but somewhere along the line, it
had ceased to be an issue. If was replaced with when, and hesitation
with assurance. Fear of being close to Kiyoshi dissipated completely.
How could she even think of it when he opened himself up so fully to
her?

Only one real concern remained in her, but it was so deep that she
had very little knowledge of it: becoming too close. There were so
many factors involved in their relationship. From Kiyoshi's former
identity, to her insecurity with her natural, if unaccepted sexual
preference, to any number of other things, she knew it would be
impossible. Perhaps that was why Kimiko allowed herself to become very
close with Kiyoshi; a closer relationship was a virtual impossibility.
She could hug, kiss or sleep next to him without any fear of his
intentions.

That casual love relieved immense amounts of stress that had built
upon on her shoulders. She had never known how good it could feel to
be completely accepted by someone, without fear of rejection. Her
relationship with Akane had been the opposite, built up on mutual
distrust that had only bloomed a few months before Ranma's sudden
departure. She could never have told Akane everything like she could
with Kiyoshi. One wrong word would have left her pounded to the floor
like one Akane's straw dummies.

Laughter echoed from behind Kimiko, causing her to slow, then
stop. She turned around, watching Akane quickly run past her. The
teenage Akane stopped only a few feet from where Kimiko stood,
panting. Ranma almost barreled into her as he came charging down the
way, but managed to halt mere inches from her.

"Told you I'd win, Ranma." The words spoken by Akane carried well
and were honey to Kimiko's ears.

"You just got lucky, that's all," Ranma muttered, kicking at the
dirt with his foot. He looked up and smiled.

Of course, Kimiko knew that she had let Akane win that day. Seeing
the pride on Akane's face had been worth throwing the race.

Slowing her breathing, Akane shook her head. "It wasn't luck, and
to prove it, I'll race you to the lake!" She quickly turned and bolted
straight through the trees, where an empty field should have been.
"Cheater!" Ranma yelled at her as he ran to catch up.

Kimiko only frowned as she, too, sprinted to follow. Exactly as
she had remembered it, Kimiko watched Ranma sweep Akane off her feet
and carry her all the way down to the lakeside. Their laughter filled
the silence of the early morning park as Kimiko caught up to the
couple.

Walking with Akane still held close in his arms, Ranma smiled.
Kimiko dashed up to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. Though he
did not notice or turn back, Kimiko felt him. She quickly released him
in shock, staring as he walked up to the lake and set Akane down.
Shaking off her surprise, the redhead leapt to sit beside them, hoping
they would not disappear.

"Can you hear me?" Kimiko asked as the two sat by the lakeside.
"Please, Ranma, Akane, can you hear me?" Neither responded.

With great curiosity, Kimiko slid to lie next to Akane as the two
laid there on their backs, staring up at the sky. Three lay there, but
only one saw nothing but darkness and a hazy purple sky. Although a
mixture of orange and gray poked out in the east, it would probably
take the sun hours to burn away the clouds enough to be spotted.
Kimiko only sighed.

"What is going on?" Her words sounded strange, spoken against the
silence of everything else. "Why does this stuff have to torture me
like this?"

Akane stirred, brushing up against Kimiko's arm.

"Huh?" the dark-haired girl whispered.

"What is it?" Ranma asked, sitting up.

Kimiko looked at Akane with wide eyes as the girl looked straight
through her.

"I could have sworn I felt something touch my arm," Akane told
him. "Never mind it. Must've been my imagination."

"I was scared it was Shampoo, or Ukyou, or someone," Ranma
whispered, laying his head back. "Or worse, Happosai."

Akane still stared through Kimiko. The redhead had yet to take her
eyes away from the Akane. Wondering if it would work again, Kimiko
drew her finger across Akane's left shoulder slowly. Her heart beat
faster than drums in a heavy metal band.

"There it is again!" Akane cried, looking around. "It touched my
shoulder this time!"

Ranma sat up quickly and leaned over Akane, swiping his arms at
the air, barely missing a dodging Kimiko.

"Nothing," Ranma told her. Still leaning over her, he looked down
with a grin.

"What are you smiling at?" Akane asked, looking up at him with
shiny eyes.

"Nothing," Ranma sighed, lying back again.

That was the moment Kimiko realized this had not happened to her
and Akane when they had been lying by the lake that day. Their moment
ended about ten minutes later when clicks from a camera from behind
them soiled the moment, but never did she remember that exchange.
Perhaps Kimiko was changing her past?

More daring this time, the redhead stood and walked around to
Ranma. His eyes were closed as the warm sun, which Kimiko could not
see or feel, shined down upon him. Akane looked similar, though she
occasionally glanced over her left shoulder. Sitting close enough to
kiss her former self, Kimiko stared at Ranma's carefree face. Swinging
one leg over to Ranma's left, and leaving the other on his right, she
held herself, hovering over him with her hands that pressed against
the cold grass beside his head. The sticky wetness of dew wedged
itself between her fingers as she stared down at him. How would he
react to feeling someone on top of him, considering he felt it at all?

What am I doing? Kimiko thought, teeth chattering above her former
persona.

In that very second, Ranma opened his eyes, quickly focusing them
on Kimiko who could do nothing but stare. It took no more than a
second, but as Ranma sat up, Kimiko felt herself being seized by
strong arms.

"Who...?" Ranma's question suddenly cut off as his back arched
with a spasm.

There was a moment when even the artificial light lamps above her
disappeared, leaving her in total darkness. The very next, she lay
staring up at the bright blue sky. Sitting up slowly, Kimiko looked in
amazement over the clear blue lake and the vast fields of green of her
memory.

"Ranma, are you okay?" Akane looked at Kimiko with concern,
putting a hand on her shoulder.

Looking down at herself, Kimiko saw a set of clothes so lost to
her, she thought the comfortable feel of them would never be hers
again. The red shirt and black pants of her past covered her body
loosely like they always had. Wrapping her arms around herself, Kimiko
felt her body. A flat, muscular chest first met her hands, and she
nearly coughed in surprise.

Taking Kimiko's shoulder with her other hand, Akane pulled her so
they faced each other.

"What the heck is wrong with you, Ranma?" Mild irritation bubbled
in Akane's voice.

"I...I...I..." Kimiko's voice was lost to her as she fought to
take control of the emotions bursting within her.

"What is it, Ranma? Tell me!" Concern colored her eyes as Akane
stared in Kimiko's eyes.

Pausing, Kimiko found her center, her balance, and her calm.
Energy welled up within her as she placed her hands over Akane's.
Three words that she had not spoken for such a long time, more
heartfelt than she had ever spoken them resounded from her mouth.

"I love you," she whispered to Akane.

It was a sucker punch to the dark-haired girl that she had not
seen coming. A month early from the original date spoken, the words
echoed in Kimiko's mind over and over. God, how she waited to say that
again. Giving Akane a moment to collect her wits, Kimiko only reached
up, brushing her hand against Akane's face.

"Ranma?" Akane's whisper was hoarse, her eyes and mouth wide, face
pale.

"Yes, Akane?"

Breaking their eye contact, Akane dropped her arms to her sides
and shied her face from Kimiko.

"There's something I have to tell you." A hundred thousand
responsibilities seemed to weigh down on Akane's shoulders she spoke.
A tear spilled onto her cheek before she continued.

"I'm listening," Kimiko told her true love, burning with passion
for the girl in front of her.

"I'm so sorry," Akane said, crawling away quickly, but stumbling
as she attempted to stand up. "God, I'm so sorry."

"Wait, Akane! Don't leave!" Kimiko stood, catching Akane in a hug
before she could get away. "What are you sorry for?"

Akane could not look up, her eyes turned towards the lake. Her
voice was lifeless and barely sounded recognizable. Her words were
something else entirely:

"It's too late...I'm already married to Ryouga..."

In one breath, Akane did what no one had ever done before. She
totally annihilated every ounce of fight within Kimiko's soul. Even as
Kimiko, in Ranma's body, fell to the grass in agony, Akane took off
across the ocean of green. The wet dew met her entire body this time,
triggering the change.

"It's not supposed to be like this," she sobbed, unable to hold
back the flooding emotion. It felt as if her entire soul was tainted
by the distorted reality she existed within, but when she finally
lifted her face from the grass, she took a deep breath. The warmth of
the sun had faded away, leaving her in the wet, early morning dew,
wearing her sweats and stuck in the present once more.

Her teeth chattered as she pulled herself to her feet. With tears
sliding down her cheeks. She breathed in rapidly, unable to shrug off
the after effect of adrenaline, leaving her shaking in her running
shoes.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Kimiko demanded, palming her
forehead as if to massage a headache.

Relaxing her body and slowing her breathing, she regained her
bearings. Standing right where she had imagined herself to be in the
past, Kimiko scanned the garden. Trees blocked the way she had come,
but the lake laid spread out before her, as with the path around it. A
bench, no more than fifty feet along one side of the lake beckoned
her. A light post stood next to it on the path, as if a spotlight for
whoever would sit in the bench.

Kimiko trudged over to the wooden bench and plopped herself down
on the right side of it, causing the flimsy boards to creek in
protest. Flopping her right elbow on the rusted iron armrest, she
propped her head on her hand. Exhaling sharply, she closed her eyes
against the burning brightness of the light.

"Tell me, Lily," Kimiko began nonchalantly. "What in God's name is
going on with me? I can't walk two steps without hallucinating, and
it's just getting worse!"

Silence answered her question.

"Come on!" she growled, wiping her face with the sleeve of her
left arm. "I'm not talking to myself, you know. I know you're out
there, doing whatever it is you spirits do. Show yourself!"

As if she were King Arthur beckoning the Lady of the Lake forth,
to claim the magical Excalibur from the depths of its watery sheath,
out Lily appeared from the water, glowing with a faint white aura.
Kimiko tried to keep her face neutral, as the specter appeared, slowly
walking towards her. She could only wonder if Lily had to appear like
that, or if it was just for affect. Either way, it intimidated Kimiko
very much.

The ghost drew forward, skimming the surface of the water, and
then the ground as if they were frozen over and she was a block of ice
sliding across. Sitting up straight, Kimiko froze with her eyes wide.
As Lily came close enough to see her form, Kimiko realized that she
could barely make out her features, as if she were displayed, white on
white with only the fuzzy picture of a out of focus snapshot.

When the specter hovered at the edge of the water, she stopped, as
if blocked by an invisible shield. With a slow come hither wave, the
spirit beckoned Kimiko.

Suddenly fearful of her choice to summon the spirit, she stood and
walked towards her.

"A dark soul comes this way," a voice hissed, seemingly from all
direction, although the ghost had spoken the words. "You must-" Her
words were cut off, as if she were on television and someone had muted
the volume of her speech.

"What, Lily?" she asked, stopping right in front of the ghost. "I
can't hear you. Speak up."

The ghost's eyes opened wide and she covered her mouth with her
hands in surprise, then as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished
without a trace. Kimiko reeled at the development. Was the spirit
unable to communicate now? She had been so easy to talk with before.

"Lily? Are you still here?" Kimiko scanned in all directions,
seeing nothing out of the ordinary. "Okay, I'll look out for this dark
soul, but what must I do?" So much for spiritual advice, she thought
wryly.

Walking towards the bench, Kimiko shrugged.


Under the shadow of dead angels, he walked. Like a meteorite
crashing down from the heavens, unable to stop its decent to shatter
the earth beneath it, he traveled Fate's concrete path, without one
thought to change it. He did not care which direction he headed,
preferring each destination to be a surprise. Where as life could get
you down, the road never told lies. For a black-hearted man such as
he, truthful answers to questions were not ones he would usually give,
and the lack of those were bliss for him.

"Why do you always have to travel, daddy?" The words of his
children echoed in his mind. "I miss you, daddy!" "Please don't be
gone long!" "Daddy, you're back!" "Daddy, I love you!"

How could he reply to that, to those innocent faces, as of yet
untainted by the evil within him? Maybe running away made him a
coward, but staying would have only endangered those around him.

Why was he fleeing to the road's cold embrace over his wife's warm
one? That was a question he could not answer with certainty any
longer. Five years ago he might have been, but today nothing was the
same. Only lingering guilt remained, for something that was more of a
dream than a reality, paranoia perhaps. Feelings faded, memories
blurred and pain vanished during his travels. Except for a few random
and very brief appearances at his home in the past week, merely visits
to his children, he really had no contact with his life left behind
for the last few years. It hurt him to do that to them, the ones who
counted most in his life, but something told him that he had to.

Somewhere beneath the flesh of his brain, deep within his
subconscious, a dark memory afflicted his life with such pain that he
might never recover his family and more importantly, his wife.
Somewhere on the edge between of reality and fantasy, something fogged
his perception with its teeth sunken into his lifeblood, draining away
everything. Light and darkness mixed, creating endless shades of gray,
never fully defining one or the other again. It eased the pain, but
dimmed the pleasure he once had for life, a time that seemed so long
ago.

Traveling left much time for thought, but he had yet to think of
one thing since his brief encounter with the enforcer earlier that
morning. What could he have thought about? How miserable he was? How
much he missed his family? How much he wanted to stab himself in the
gut? Dark thoughts led to dark actions, and dark actions led to more
pain.

Stopping to look around for the first time in nearly an hour, he
tried to regain his bearings, for what it was worth. Trees surrounded
him, looming over him like judges at a sentencing. Somewhat sparse,
the grove of thick green trees seemed out of place. Although the air
smelt fresh and the grass was green, he knew that he had not escaped
Tokyo completely.

"Worthless," he imagined them moaning in the wind. He turned his
head, and continued walking. He had enough to deal with, without
having to listen to a figment of his imagination.

The voices continued, as if the verdict were already in, and they
were merely rubbing his nose in another dash of misery before telling
it to him, twisting the dagger in his gut before finally finishing him
off. "You cause pain to those around, and yet you run away! Run away
to avoid more pain! Worthless coward!" For a figment of his
imagination, they certainly sounded real, like someone whispering from
inside the trees.

"Shut up," he fiercely whispered, sprinting through the grove, as
if trying to outrun a train.

"You are a murderer and a thief! You hold nothing sacred except
yourself! No one will mourn your death, you pathetic mongrel!"

"Shut up!" He defiantly cried back at them. "I'm doing what's best
for my family! NOW GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

His last words still echoed as he realized he was alone, in a sea
of grass, the sun shining bright and warm. He felt lighter, happier,
suddenly rejuvenated, as if he had been given another chance at
correcting the wrongs in his life. When the crystal shine of the lake
caught his eye, he experienced an extreme sense of deja vu. He spun,
searching for the grove of trees he had been in, scanning everywhere,
but saw nothing but the lake and endless green.

"Where am I?" he asked himself.

"You are in paradise," a sarcastic, deep voice replied. It sounded
like the voice of the trees, but without the distant, hollow echo.

Of course, he saw no one as he turned only to face nothing. A
growing sense of dread filled him as he stood, staring straight out at
the lake, as if that were the origin of the voice speaking to him.

"Why am I here?" He waited without reply, calling out to the
spirits again. "Where is this? Speak to me!" Anger began to seethe in
him. Pure, genuine rage at those that would crucify him without stated
cause, without reason. He burned from within, as if the negative
emotions within him had been lit aflame, like a bonfire of wood
surrounding an accused witch. His last question was not much more than
a whisper, a faint hope that something would answer his plea. "Who are
you?"

"Who am I?" the voice mocked, echoing as if all around him. "Who
you are is a better question to ask. Who am I, he asks. Who am I...?"
The words faded into an evil cackle, as if he had asked an absurd
question. The laughter died shortly, leaving it with the rustle of the
wind and the silence of an abyss.

"Please tell me why I'm here?" The man stared at the nothingness
around him. "You owe me that much! Please?"

"Owe you?" the voice asked. "I suppose I do. You released me after
all. You are here to feel anger again, to remember the pain, the love,
and the hatred! You will remember everything and nothing! Are you
ready? Are you ready for the misery of a thousand years of torture and
imprisonment?"

"Fate willing," he replied, ready to meet the consequences of his
actions, to taste blind justice at the end of an executioner's axe. He
could do nothing but succumb to the will of the supernatural voice,
for it held all the cards, and he was just a jack in the beginning of
a straight. If he had to learn the answer to his painful riddle,
perhaps it would aid him to repair the hurt in his soul.

"Fate does not exist," was the beginning of his reply. Each word
spoken reeked of anger and perhaps a touch of remorse. "Choices forge
the man. Each decision determines whether the soul is harvested, or
tossed away. Fate is a cop out, reserved for those who would try to
pin the consequences of themselves or others on some imaginary force.
There is no almighty God, no divine savior. The men who perform the
miracles are still men!

"Open your eyes to the reality around you, for everything is going
to change for the worse if you allow it. Death stalks the Earth with
its crimson blade, and your name is now on its list."

As the last word was spoken, the traveler, his guise pale, watched
two figures cross the sea of grass, one chasing the other. Their path
was straight, but it took what seemed to be hours for them to make it
to the lakeside. He reeled in surprise as the earth beneath him rose,
like the creation of a new mountain watched in fast forward. Though
his new vantage gave him a better view of the couple, the traveler
took a few hesitant steps forward, unsure if it was wise to move.

"Go ahead," the voice insisted.

"Go on, daddy!" the voice of his daughter whispered, tickling his
ear its origin seemed so close. The two were shortly followed with a
variety of voices, spoken by friends and family.

He still stood there, legs held fast to the ground.

"What are you waiting for?" the voice hissed. "FATE WILLS IT!"

His laboriously slow decent down the green hill granted him a few
minutes of peace. The teenage couple had lain in the grass by the
lake, serenely staring up at the sky. He wondered what he could
possibly learn from them. He could not have been more than fifty feet
away when the male sat up and leaned over his partner. The traveler
assumed they would kiss, but instead, the child simply waved his hands
around the female's shoulder, as if warding a malicious spirit.

"What are you smiling at?" The light female voice echoed from the
two's position. The young man's reply did not carry the distance as he
lay back down.

When the traveler came within thirty feet, he had to squint his
eyes to make out some hazy shape hovering a scant few inches above the
young man. It glowed with a strange mix of red and white, blurring
pink in parts, but still retained a vaguely human shape. It had
suddenly just been over the young man's body, as if it previously was
there, except he had not seen it until now. As he walked across the
next five feet, the young man sat up, trying to grab hold of the
specter above him. When the two met, a flash of light forced him to
turn away and shelter his eyes with his hand.

The traveler quickly turned his head back to see the young man's
back arch in a painful spasm, and then fall onto the grass again.

"Ranma, are you okay?" the female asked, putting a hand on her
companion's shoulder.

Ranma. The name echoed in the man's mind for a brief moment, as if
searching for the right crayon in a box of them. Ranma. It was a name
of a person he had forgotten existed, or chose to forget. Either way,
the lingering familiarity with the name bothered him. Ranma.

Taking the young man by the shoulders, the girl looked him in the
eye. "What the heck is wrong with you, Ranma?"

Having the words spoken like that sparked a memory, or rather a
feeling: anger going beyond what words can express. Also there in laid
something else, something not quite so hateful as the other, but
something worse, hundreds of times worse.

Reeling in the mixed emotions, the man strained to pay attention
to what was being played out before him. The girl began to crawl away
with tears streaming down her eyes, but the young man caught her in
his arms gently. Words were exchanged, but they were spoken too soft
for the traveler to hear.

Jumping to her feet, girl began to run towards him, not heeding
her direction. The young man simply slumped onto his chest, right
before vanishing into the ground as if he had never been. Not noticing
the event, the girl merely ran forward, vainly wiping the tears from
her eyes.

When ten feet were left between them, Ryouga recognized Akane.



Under a halo of radiant, artificial light, Kimiko sat on the hard
wood bench. With no more intentions of finishing her jog, she kicked
her feet up and planted them firmly on the dirt below. The cold air
bit at her arms, already having caused goose bumps to rise on her
skin. Rubbing them briskly, she stood and took a deep breath, ready to
jog back to the hotel.

The moment she stepped out of the ring of artificial lamplight,
the dirt path beneath her feet shifted. The earth quaked violently as
she was forced to crouch to keep from falling on her bottom. Followed
swiftly by burning light all around her, she stared slack-jawed as the
sun appeared over her at its zenith, as if it had been there the
entire time. What can someone say to such an event...the grass
shooting up around their feet, the very earth beneath them rising
upwards and the all too sudden blast of sunlight?

It was a blow to Kimiko who had expected the hallucinations to be
finished. Rising to her feet, she stooped over a valley of infinite
green grass, all but for the lake in its center. She simply was
awestruck by the experience. The location of her dream of Akane and
herself at the lake had suddenly grew to fantastic measures, truly
straight out of some sci-fi movie, probably the only one she had not
seen with Sally and her friends back in California.

Pleasant sunlight warmed her chilled flesh as she smiled at the
welcome change of scenery, no matter how strange. Kimiko knelt down,
running her fingers through the healthy, dry grass. Untying the laces
to her sneakers, she looked down at the blue lake glistening in the
sun light like a sapphire. She kicked off her shoes and watched them
tumble down the hill.

Squinting her eyes, she spied down the hill and noticed a figure
down there for the first time. Though she could not make it out well,
she knew it was a tall, darkly dressed man with black hair. The large
pack on his back gave him the appearance of a traveler. He stood down
at the edge of the lake, staring into the waters.

With no other choice, she jogged down the hill, savoring the
feeling of dry grass between her toes. She quickly passed her shoes
and practically leapt to the bottom of the hill. The man did not see
her, she noticed. His thick clothes strangely rippled in the warm
wind, which could have hardly been considered much more than a breeze.

There could not have been anymore than fifteen feet between them
when she slowed to a walk so as not to alert him. He did not so much
as stir at her approach. His thick black hair was short, obviously
self cut from its jagged matted look. The thick, dark leather jacket
he wore complete with matching pants made him look like someone right
out of a comic.

He was much too tall for her short body and towered over her as
she approached him. Though he appeared unaware of her, she somehow
doubted it.

"Who are you?" His deep, tired voice was passive, totally unlike
the image she had originally perceived of him from his appearance. He
just looked like one of those playboy, self-asserting types.
Something about the man disturbed her.

The man spun on his heels, letting his pack slip from around him
to the ground, all in one quick motion. His eyes flashed with rage, as
he held one fist out, completing his stance just as quickly as he had
spun. In describing his stance, she was completely at a loss. It was
perfectly centered, leaving him totally defended without a chance of
being struck. He had the balance and reflexes of a cat, and underneath
the thick leather sleeves of his shirt, she could see his bulging
muscles. If it had not been for the passivity he displayed which
totally undermined the threat he posed, she might have simply dropped
into a guard, prepared to defend herself immediately.

"I'm-" she began, quickly stifling her own words at the strange
pitch in which she spoke. Gone was the soft, high pitch it had
retained for the past year, as it suddenly sounded very deep to her
years. She almost put a hand over her own mouth, but refused to show
her surprise, in case he was a threat.

"Ranma?" The man's face softened, his eyes grew wide and he almost
completely dropped his defensive posture. He nearly shivered in
surprise as he fell to his back leg.

Equally stunned by his reaction, she searched his face for
recognition. The light fell upon his coarse face, but only barely. It
was as if a veil of perpetual darkness remained over his face.
"Do I know you?" Again, her voice was strangely deep in pitch.
With only one blink of surprise and a few skipped heartbeats, she
realized the cause. No longer did he tower over her, and no longer
were her body proportions the same. Without the black pants and
Chinese shirt, she had regained her male form.

"It's me," the traveler told the confused young man before him.
"It's Ryouga."

Real or dream, Kimiko had no answer for her former friend. Too
many days had been spent trying to forget his existence for her to
come to terms with meeting him now. The dark shadows under the man's
eyes, and the weathered look of his skin were not nearly enough pain
that she had wished upon him.

"Hello, Ryouga," Ranma said. He truly was Ranma now, if only for a
few brief minutes before the dream ended.

"But you're..." The darkness returned to Ryouga's eyes, but still
he retained his passivity.

Words flowed from Ranma's mouth then. Karma retribution was
granted to him, even if it was merely a hallucination. Never before
had he actually seen Ryouga in any of his dreams before, only other
figures such as Akane, his parents, even Kunou once or twice.

"I'm what? I'm dead? Is that what you were going to say?" His
demands affected Ryouga deeply, forcing him to fall back a step to the
very edge between the narrow shoreline of dirt and rocks and the green
grass.

"I'm sorry!" Ryouga screamed, kneeling to the ground in anguish.
"I didn't mean for it to happen like that! I swear!"

All feeling except for adrenaline left Ranma's body. He looked
down at the man with contempt, and only took one step forward, but
that was enough to send Ryouga squirming in the dirt right next to the
water.

"Please, I didn't want it to be like that! I didn't want to hurt
you!" Actual tears flowed down the Lost One's eyes. He looked up with
one pitiful glance, but quickly shied his eyes from Ranma.

"You didn't want to HURT me?" Ranma yelled back. "You knocked me
off a cliff, Ryouga! What in God's name did you expect to happen?"
"Not...that..." the man whispered, trying desperately to hold onto
the remains of his dignity. "Anyone but you, Ranma..."

Growling like a tiger, Ranma lunged forward and punted Ryouga into
the lake. Anger drowned all logic as Ranma leapt in after. Even as he
waded into the water, he strangely remained male, but took no notice.

"Do you know what I've been through, because of you?!" He screamed
as he took a hold of Ryouga's collar and lifted him, several feet
above his head. "Do you know how long I've waited to see you again?"
With empty eyes, Ryouga remained silent.

"Speak up, Ryouga! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Throwing him over his
shoulder, he turned to chase the projectile. Ryouga rolled in the air
and gracefully landed on his feet. Less than a second later, Ranma
pummeled into him with his fists, next blasting him with a slashing
kick across the man's face. Spinning like an out of control dradle,
Ryouga fell to the ground.

"Get up!" Ranma yelled. "Fight me like the man you used to be!"
"SHUT UP!" Ryouga cried back as he bounced to his feet so fast,
Ranma failed to catch the motion. "I tried to help you, God damn it!
You don't think I brought Jusenkyou water back for my health, do you?
You don't think I carried you out of that sleazy bar for it either? Of
all the people I've wronged in my life, it's hurting you I most
regret! SO STOP HAUNTING ME!"

Ranma was too angry to respond verbally. He pounced upon Ryouga as
fast as he could, meeting nothing but air as his opponent simply
vanished from him. Overly dominant foes always seemed to disappear
before one's eyes, Ranma knew. He had done it to others so many times
himself.

"Don't you think I've seen hell, too?!" Ryouga demanded, barely
close enough to strike from Ranma's flank.

"You tired that the first time, P-chan!" Ranma growled, throwing
himself shoulder first at his still recovering opponent, who merely
vanished a second time. "Poor me! Poor me! You never see what you've
really got, Ryouga!" Sensing the man behind him, Ranma reversed
himself, and extended his leg straight with a snap, meeting the rock
hard flesh of his opponent.

Ryouga gasped as he stumbled back.

Giving him no chance to recover, Ranma brought his left leg up
counterclockwise, snapping the blade of his foot against Ryouga's
face. It was enough for Ryouga to fall onto his side, but the man had
the elasticity of a rubber band, and was back on his feet before Ranma
had a chance to follow through with his attack.

Screaming in torment, Ryouga drilled Ranma's with a snap of his
fist, not hard enough to break anything, but more than enough to send
Ranma flying a few feet, causing him to land on his back. Using the
momentum of the punch, Ranma rolled back onto his feet, one hand
holding his bruised chest.

"I'll not let you take me easily!" Ryouga cried, half raving mad.
"You're not Ranma, are you?!" His voice was somewhere between laughing
and screaming, as if they were one and the same. "It's ALWAYS you,
isn't it?! I HATE YOU!"

"RENZOKUKEN!" Black energy burned around Ryouga's fists as they
blurred towards Ranma. Initializing the Chestnut Fist to merely keep
pace, Ranma blocked each stinging blow that came with the crazed man's
charge. Although his technique did not match the speed Ranma easily
achieved to block it, Ryouga continued his blurring assault well after
Ranma would have stopped a Chestnut Fist attack.

"DIE!!!" Ryouga screamed as he pushed his attack forward.
Ranma screamed as Ryouga broke his defenses, mauling his body with
countless punches. The force of the strikes sent Ranma flying
backwards to plunge into the lake. Quickly pushing himself up, Ranma
waded out of the water. Ryouga stood ten feet away, glowing dark, his
brown eyes replaced with black orbs.

"Mouko Takabisha!" Ranma yelled, unleashing his confidence against
the swirl of madness around Ryouga, but it merely evaporated on
contact.

"Throw away the disguise!" the man yelled at Ranma. "I know it's
you!"

"I don't know what you're whining about," Ranma whispered, feeling
his body with his hands. "But I don't care. I will get revenge for
what you've done to me!"

"Funny," Ryouga commented, his words eerily calm as he drew in
waves of black energy. "You look pitiful in Ranma's guise, declaring
vengeance. He's not like that. You have NO RIGHT to slight him like
that! I'll banish you for both our sakes!"

Although confused with Ryouga's words, Ranma knew that his
intentions were blazingly evident.

"Oh God," he whispered before shutting away his fears for another
Fierce Tiger Domineering blast. Somehow, he doubted Ryouga's chi blast
would be stopped.

"Renzoku Ki Ha," were the words spoken by the madman before the
bolt of dark energy oozed from his body. It seemed to form into shape
like slimy oil dripping from a car, and then without warning it surged
forward.

"Mouko Takabisha!" The blue energy from Ranma's confidence was
enough to deflect the dark blast enough for it to only scathe Ranma's
worn body. It skimmed his right shoulder, melting away the clothing
and part of his long hair that got in the way. Unfortunately, the dark
energy blast kept coming. Ryouga shifted his stance to bring the
pillar of energy crashing down into the water. Taking a deep breath,
Ranma swam down, putting as much distance between himself and his
attacker.

The cold water did not soothe the pain coursing through his
shoulder, nor did it sate the burning sensation around his neck,
though he barely felt the latter. It was so bright underneath the
lake's surface that he could see Ryouga clearing, standing over him at
the shoreline. His opponent then leapt up into the air, spiraling
downwards as if he were a cruise missile right before plunging into
its target.

Cupping his right shoulder with his left hand, Ranma dove out of
the way as his opponent stomped where he had been, bringing a tsunami
of water crashing on the lake's shore. It presented the perfect
opportunity to return fire.

"Kachuu Tenshin Amaguriken!" Ranma yelled, willing every ounce of
energy into his attack. Hundreds of punches collided with Ryouga's
plate armor chest, as Ranma drove inwards, focusing his strikes in one
area of the man's body.

It did not even faze Ryouga.

Ranma was not even able to see the strike that knocked him back,
sending him flying across the lake. It felt like one of his Blast
Fists, only without the painless single finger strike. One punch was
enough to send him over ten feet before he crashed into the water
headfirst. Only a split second and a gut reaction saved Ranma from
having his head destroyed by an elbow strike Ryouga used on the water
next to him. Crashing down upon their heads, the cold liquid came down
like a waterfall, showering them for a second as they floated near
each other.

"Why did you come back?" Ryouga asked suddenly, instead of
attacking. He sounded angry, but not as furious as his actions
demanded. A certain degree of madness resonated in his voice, like a
child reasoning with an imaginary friend who decided to disappear when
he needed it most, only in reverse. "You were gone for so long. I
thought I had you behind me, but then you called me in again. I hate
you. I hate you! Why did you come back?!"

"How can you ask that?" Ranma demanded, utterly insulted by the
other man's question. "You threw my off a God damn cliff! Of course
I'd come back! What, you think I'd forgive and forget?"

Ryouga inhaled deeply through his teeth making a harsh whistling
noise as he had listened to Ranma's retort. With each word he gathered
more and more anger. His dark, tanned skin glowed red with his fury.
"Stop...using...his...voice!"

Nothing could have prepared Ranma for the swiftness of Ryouga's
next attack. It was like something out of a manga, how he suddenly
appeared in Ranma's face, slamming him a dozen times without slowing.
He heard his body crack under the deluge of punches. He simply had no
chance to even look at the finishing move as Ryouga's fist drove into
his face. Falling back, as if gravity was unsure of what to do after
the attack the defied physics, Ranma slowly touched the water, slowly
sinking underneath the lake.

He forced his eyes open and stared up through the clear water.
Ryouga's face hovered above him as he saw the man reach down to grab a
hold of his neck. Even if he had the will to do so, Ranma did not
struggle with Ryouga as he was shoved further down, unable to float
back to the surface. He had felt the feeling before in a dream once or
twice.

Perhaps this was all a dream? He would be waking up real soon, if
that were the case. Yes, just a dream. A very scary dream. He would
tell Kiyoshi in the morning without leaving anything out. Still
staring up at Ryouga's maddened face, he wondered when the dream would
end.

As he began to struggle, a thought crossed his bleary mind: What
if this was not a dream?

No, it had to be a dream, he thought, trying to breathe, but only
taking in water. He was really Kimiko Nishiyama, safe in her bed with
her over-sized shirt lent by Kiyoshi, her brother. Or maybe she was
still safe in his arms in the limousine, without a worry in the world.
She would even settle with being asleep in Kenichi's room, sleeping
soundly in his bed as he painted her picture. Even if he was a bit of
a loon, she liked him. Yes, being asleep in his room would be nice.

Her lungs ached with pain as she felt her eyes burning under the
icy cold water. The dream would not end...but here it was...it had to
grow dark before it could get light. Oh so bright, so bright. Morning
light, yes, that is what is was. Warm arms, no more chest pain, no
more hatred for that man, and no more hatred for anything. She loved
everyone...especially Kiyoshi, Akane...Kenichi...Mayako...Rei...ko...
Mai...Ryo...sei...

...F ather...

* * *

"And in further news," a television news announcer began, "a freak
storm seems to be brewing over certain parts of Tokyo city, as strong
winds have reportedly been the cause of several small black outs.
We'll have more of that with our weather caster--"

Kenichi shut the screen of with a click of his remote, and yawned,
exhausted from lack of sleep. He had to leave for work in about an
hour, and decided to get up early for a change. It was not as if he
could sleep anyway. Something had been tugging at his conscious all
night, disabling any chance he had at sleep, as if someone were
calling out to him, begging for help, yet all he could do was roll
over in response.

"I wish I were with Kimiko instead," he regretful sigh, half
tempted to skip work and meet with the target of his affections. He
wondered what she was doing right now...probably sleeping, in the
warmth of her bed, like he should have been.

Dawn approached, heralding the approach of a new day, and yet
Kenichi only felt like reliving yesterday...again and again.

><><><><><><><> ;<><><><><><><><><>&l t;><><><><><><><><><& gt;<><><><><><><><><

It takes a thousand words to do what one picture can show. But it
takes a thousand pictures to do what three words say. And it only
takes one word to break them both. Until next time, farewell.

Ryan Erik
ICQ: 2561463
ryanerik@tendodojo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ryanerik99< br>