Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Seesaw ❯ Game On ( Chapter 1 )

Seesaw

 

Tury Screma

 

I do not own anything, period; least of all anything having to do with this story. Not the characters made by Rumiko Takahashi or concepts of James Wan; or anything else for that matter. However, anyone who would like to take over some part of my substantial debts is welcome to sue my ass off. The guys in black coats with the baseball bats are getting tired of coming by every week and would appreciate a change of pace.

 

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In a small dark room, tucked away in a hidden corner of Nerima, a television glowed; pouring out the last few moments of a rented film.

 

*If you want to save your little girl's life, your going to have to play a game…*

 

Credits rolled, a sneer was cracked, and the lives of many Nerima inhabitants were changed forever.

 

----------

 

“You're such a Jerk Ranma.” Akane said over her shoulder.

 

“C'mon Akane, when have you ever seen me ask them to do anything like that?”

 

Akane stopped and glared back at him, “When have I `SEEN' you?! So then you admit you ask them do it behind my back, so you can rub it in my face later!?”

 

Ranma stopped walking along the top of the fence and peered down at her. Akane, having taken an even more involved misunderstanding than usual, had momentarily thrown him off his curve. His subconscious's plan B was set into affect: having never been expected to be used, all that he had to use was a wide-eyed “What?!”

 

The event in question was started when Ukyo and Shampoo had both brought him lunch at the same place, at the same time, in the same way. A sparkly, posing, override his system with a flood of hormones, presentation that never worked but was always used nonetheless. Each one, upon seeing the other, forgot about Ranma and tried to convince the other to leave. When that didn't work, Ukyo commented that Shampoo's Ramen smelled like “cat piss”. In reply, Shampoo stated in a not-so-friendly manner that Ukyo's “Okonakimiki look to-to much like squirrel what was run over by truck” (Verbatim)

 

Lightning struck between the two, Shampoo lunged. Ukyo jumped back and flung a spatula at the bowl of Ramen. The porcelain exploded and Miso broth was sprayed all over the front of Shampoo's Dress. The hot broth made her already tight dress became partly transparent and hugged her impossible curves even more than in the few seconds previous. Shampoo glanced down at the soup dripping onto her shoes, and began to meld her chi with her anger. In the process, a synapse in her brain fired that had previously gone unnoticed. She smiled and turned toward Ranma with a devilish look in her eye. Ranma, who had been half asleep anyway and therefore hadn't really been caring up to this point, cracked an eye open and stared. As did Ukyo, who's brain was running a few seconds behind Shampoo's.

 

The blue haired Amazon did her best runway walk to where her “fiancé” was seated, bent over with a napkin in her hand, and said “Shampoo chest get wet. Husband clean, yes?” She said with a low tone and devilish grin.

 

Ranma's other eye opened, slowly.

 

Ukyo figured out what was happening and (without hesitation) smeared her okonomiyaki across the front of her shirt, ran over to the pair and presented her chest for cleaning as well. It didn't have the same effect as the broth, but her intention was obvious enough. “Ranma honey, wouldn't you much rather clean off these instead of those two mosquito bites?” she said with a grin.

 

Shampoo's eye twitched, and she yanked open the front of her dress revealing her soaked bra. “Shampoo fully developed woman, not like spatula girl's what bought from store, see” She said, forcing a smile through her clenched teeth.

 

More lighting.

 

Ukyo was determined to not be outdone. Now talking more to Shampoo than Ranma, she yelled out “From a store in Heaven, you mean!” Quick as a flash she yanked open her own shirt, grabbed Ranma's hand and mashed it up against her body bindings. “Right, Ranma honey?”

 

Ranma's jaw dropped.

 

Shampoo gawked for a moment “Spatula girl take to-to big bite”. (She was trying to say that Ukyo bit off more than she could chew.) Grabbed Ranma's other hand and was about to shove it beneath her bra when all three heard the unmistakable sound of metal tearing. Ranma fearfully peered past the two and saw Akane, who in her rage had just ripped Shampoo's delivery bike in half.

 

Back in the present.

 

“That's all you have to say `What'. That's supposed to make everything better!?” Akane half-yelled.

 

Ranma hopped off the wall, the seriousness of the situation was still settling in on him “I've never asked them to do anything like that!”

 

Akane looked him dead-in-the-eye. “You never asked them to stop either.”

 

There was silence.

 

Ranma tried to talk but Akane cut him off and looked at the ground “You're an arrogant conceited jerk, and all this is just too hard.” She lifted her head just as tears were welling up in her eyes, but her teeth were clenched in anger. “You never change, you never help anyone but you and you'll never understand the way I… the way things are.” Akane's voice wavered strongly as she fought a loosing battle to contain her fury. “I wish I'd never MET YOU!!!” she screamed.

 

The bones in Ranma's hands cracked as he balled them into fists. His voice was low at first, but grew extremely quickly. “Who do you think you are, saying that to me!? Someone like you could never understand what I've been through!” he yelled, pointing a thumb at his chest.

 

Akane bit out “Oh like you've ever really thought turning in to a girl as something bad. When was the last time you didn't use your other form to get what you wanted?!”

 

Ranma ground his back teeth, somewhere in the back of his mind the taste of a free scoop of ice cream jumped up; only to be put down with extreme prejudice by his ego. Plan C kicked into effect, change the focus. “Hey, your sister…”

 

Akane cut him off again, “Leave them out of this! You and your dad eat so much, it's no wonder the rest of us are so thin. Kasumi never does anything for herself, and without Nabiki we would have been on the street years ago!” Long nights of lonely fuming and listing reasons why everything was Ranma's fault were lining up frantically in the hope of being useful, and they were all getting a shot.

 

Plan D, Blow it off.

 

Ranma *pff'ed* and folded his arms. “Why should I care about any of this?!”

 

Akane tightened her fists and her knuckles popped. Through her piercing stare, she snarled. “Why care about anything? Why care about all the money you owe us? Why care about all the people injured by your fights, or all of the property damage you caused?! I'm willing to bet there are a half-a-dozen pending lawsuits against you within three blocks of here! What would you do if Nabiki suddenly stopped making them disappear?”

 

Ranma stammered and stared at the ground while he searched frantically for something, anything he could use.

 

Plan E, you're on your own boyo.

 

Akane stepped closer to him, nearly getting drunk off the smell of her impending victory. Her face was mere inches from his when his head snapped upward, his expression screaming for blood.

 

“SHUT UP!!!” Ranma screamed; and she did.

 

He had found hatred.

 

He continued. “No one could ever know or understand all the levels of hell I've been through. My old mans so afraid of me being better than him, that he's degraded me every chance he got since I was 10!” Veins appeared at the corners of his eyes and he began to advance on Akane who backed into a wall. “He sold me for a meal who knows HOW many times. I've never known my mother, never had a home, friends, and anyone I know who isn't trying to force themselves into my life is trying to fucking KILL ME!!”

 

“Ranma stop” Akane whimpered as her anger turned into fear, and tried to back away. He responded by grabbing the neck of her shirt and lifted her a few inches off the ground. “No, your right! I wish I had never met you either!” He tossed her aside and punched a gaping hole in the wall. “I'm going to get my stuff, and then I hope I'll never see you again.” He said without looking at her; and then he was gone.

 

Akane looked at the hole for a few seconds. Then as loudly as she could, without knowing exactly why or what she meant by it, she screamed out his name.

 

----------

 

Ranma had made good time getting back to the Dojo. He was immediately approached by his father (who was planning to try and guilt him out of his share of dessert), Soun (who was going to demand he marry Akane immediately), and Nabiki (who planned on extorting him out of more money with the same roll of negatives she had been blackmailing him with for the last month). Fortunately for the other two, his dad got to him first.

 

“Ranma `m boy. You have become…”

 

His well planed argument trailed off as Ranma simply walked past him without a glance. Soun and Nabiki sensed things were amiss enough to make them hesitate. Genma had almost no sense at all. He called to Ranma, no answer. He walked after him, and grabbed Ranma's shoulder, Hard.

 

Ranma didn't hesitate to smack his fathers hand away even harder.

 

Genma stared at his stinging wrist for a moment, and then looked up at his son. A low growl started in the aging mans throat and turned into a yell. “Ranma I order you to stop this instant!!”

 

He did.

 

Genma stomped up behind Ranma and began yelling at the back of his head, expecting him to turn around and pay him the respect he felt was due. “Ranma, I have had enough of you and your…”

 

“Shut up.” Ranma's tone was low and lifeless, but carried a sharp edge below its placid surface.

 

For the first time in his fatherhood, Genma actually considered (albeit, for the wrong reasons) the consequences of being a neglectful parent. Unfortunately, his response was just more of the same; loud yelling and threats of violence. “Don't you ever…” As he began to speak, his right hand pulled into a fist, and prepared to initiate another one of their father-son/low impact sparing matches they had always used to settle their problems instead of arguing.

 

Ranma, his patience nonexistent and his anger flowing freely, felt the attack coming, spun around and unceremoniously punched Genma in the throat dozens of times in less than a second, turning his hyoid bone to mush and shredding his windpipe. Sixteen years of pent up anger and revenge crammed mercilessly into a single opportunity. Genma crumpled like the old man he had long since become; grasping his throat with both hands he coughed twice and lost consciousness. Soun and Nabiki backed off slowly.

 

Minutes later Ranma was shoving the last of his things into his old traveling pack, muttering curses and ignoring the knots in his stomach when something caught his eye. Underneath an old shirt that Ryoga had cut in one of their fights, a small red tab was poking out. He grabbed it hastily and it came up with a click after being stuck for a moment. It was a small piece of paper.

 

It read <look up>, he did. The world went black.

 

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Somewhere

 

Tatewaki Kuno, age 17, awoke from the first sleep he'd had in years that had nothing to do with Akane or the “Pigtailed Girl”. He wasn't happy about it. He tried to move and there was a pinch between his legs. He tried to move again, this time harder. The pinch became a grind and his eyes snapped open. Slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, he realized he was no longer in his room. He was cold, naked and in utter darkness.

 

“Hello!” He called out. “Sister, be this one of your tricks?!”

 

He was answered with a laugh, a rusty mechanical laugh. Like an old child's toy with a pull sting to make it talk, only evil. Then a deep grinding voice echoed in the darkness. “Hello Kuno, I want to play a game.”

 

“The blue thunder of Furin…”

 

The voice continued like it wasn't listening. Kuno caught on after a moment. “Every day you awaken unto a world of your own design; your warped psyche bending the facts of reality into a pitiful amalgamation of what you want things to be.”

 

“I shall not listen to thy slanderous…” His body seized as electricity shot from the sole of one foot, through his body, to the sole of his other foot; burning everything in between.

 

“You are gifted with strength and wealth, yet have done nothing with either for anyone's benefit; in favor of a pointless chase after something you know nothing about.” A light clicked on in the gloom, showing Kuno's favorite posters of Akane and Girl-Ranma glued to the wall, butane lighters with strings on their triggers sat just beneath them. “In a few moments, the lighters will click on and ignite the posters. They should take about a minute to ignite and then another two minutes to burn beyond use.”

 

The blue thunders eyes widened with horror.

 

“If you hadn't noticed already, your genitals have been… affixed to the ground.” Kuno jolted upward despite the pain and gazed downward. Indeed, a large T shaped spike had been driven straight through his flesh and into the concrete. Kuno started to gag.

 

“I have given you a means to free yourself prematurely to save the posters, but it will take a great amount of fortitude to do so, and the bleeding might just kill you. If you manage to let them burn, a tool will be given to you that will allow a much less painful escape.”

 

The reality of the situation, himself, the entire world in fact, set in on Kuno all at once, at probably the worst possible time in his life.

 

“Live or die…”

 

*Click*

 

“Make your choice”

 

It was at this moment that Kuno noticed an object taped into his left hand. It was a wooden spoon, with a splintered and jagged edge.

 

----------

 

Kasumi stroked Akane's hair gently while she sobbed.

 

Soun walked quietly into the room, “Saotome is doing better; but the shattered bone tore a large hole in his windpipe, they're not sure what to do. He may need a tracheotomy.” He sat down opposite Kasumi and reached out to stroke Akane's back. “Akane what…”

His daughter whirled around and slapped his hand away, hard. “Leave me alone, this is your fault too!” With that she went back to sobbing.

 

Soun sat where he was, completely stunned. Kasumi gave him a complacent look, and he quietly left the room. Once outside he rubbed his face and breathed a heavy sigh. Hundreds of questions were racing through his mind `What should I do, where is Ranma, what's going on…' but only one made it past his lips.

 

“What have I done?”

 

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Ranma stood against a crumbling wall, bits of red and pink all over his weakened body and horrified face.

 

Minutes earlier he had awoken into a world of stark white and numbness save the numerous stinging pains throughout his body.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he was regaining feeling. A note had been propped up on his chest.

 

<Don't let him make any noise>

 

There was an evil laugh, then a voice. “Hello Ranma, I want to play a game. I daresay this couldn't have happened at a better time. I saw the fight with you and Akane Tendo. While she is fine for the moment, I cannot say the same about you. I, of course, cannot say anything more about your character than what has already been said, so I will move on. Ultimately, this is all about you. Just like everything else in your life. You will be challenged, and tried. And know this; to win you may have to lose. Let's begin.”

 

Ranma's head lolled to one side trying to find anything within the oppressive white glo of the room, and saw Sasuke Saragakure, Kuno's assistant/ninja lying next to him. A small bandage was wrapped around his throat; but otherwise he appeared to be intact.

 

The minutes ticked by and Ranma got the strength to pull himself up with his arms. `I don't know what's going on, but all this is probably just some stupid prank.' With all his will power he rolled himself over onto his stomach, clumsily reached out with his right hand and shook Sasuke's shoulder. “Hey, wake up.” He managed to murmur.

 

The young servant's eyes fluttered open as if from a nap and quickly scanned the room. His mouth opened, “Wha-”. With that slight vibration of his vocal cords, his life ended.

 

Ranma was thrown backwards as the sound-sensitive bomb in Sasuke's throat erupted into a rain of blood and chunks. His head was thrown against the wall and broke open with a crack, then thudded to the ground. Ranma gazed down at his blood soaked hands, a sight that had, until then, had actually eluded him his entire life.

 

The intercom clicked on again “Maybe now you'll take me seriously. That's one strike against you.”

 

The pig-tailed boy gazed up at the camera/microphone/speaker, mounted into the ceiling. He tried to scream out his words but still could only manage a slight mumble “You monster…”

 

He heard the laugh again. “I warned you. If anyone killed him, it was you.”

 

Ranma tried to argue, but his eyes fell onto the note that was still stuck to his shirt.

 

“Play the game Ranma, or else; now for your punishment.”

 

A chill trickled down Ranma's spine.

 

“Somewhere inside your left forearm is half of a device that will release you from this room. The other half is in Sasuke's neck, or was. How you get them is up to you. Ten minutes to the next challenge.”

 

Ranma could see a cauterized scar on the back of his left wrist, all he could do was stare. The situation bogged down his thoughts. Parts of his mind tried to will it to be a dream, other parts tried to make him curl up and cry.

 

“9 minutes”

 

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he forgot how to swallow.

 

“8 minutes”

 

Ranma's hand slowly came up and gingerly touched the burned skin on his left wrist. It stung like a deep bruise.

 

“7 minutes”

 

His eyes frantically scanned the room for a door, or a vent, or some way to escape. When that failed he fast-walked around the room, feeling the walls with one hand for possible doors and tapping the walls with his other hand to hopefully find some indication of weakness.

 

“6 minutes”

 

Nothing, not even a hollow thud to indicate some empty space beyond the near spotless white of the painted concrete. His right hand once again touched his arm; he could clearly make out an odd lump under the skin near his elbow. He clenched his teeth and tried to push it up towards the scar. Stars erupted in front of his eyes and his knees buckled slightly as he stifled the harsh retching of his stomach that was initiated by the blinding pain.

 

“5 minutes Ranma, you should know that it isn't just your life that is at stake in this game. Hurry along now.”

 

Ranma looked up at the camera and then down at Sasuke's head. The Dead eyes stared back at him in a permanent gaze of confusion and shock. As much as he wanted to tell himself the voice was lying, he knew that such thoughts would be all the reason the voice would need to cause him more pain. He reached back, pulled his pigtail into his mouth; preparing to bite down hard. Ranma placed his hand back on his arm, dug his nails in, took a breath and pulled.

 

In a dark room remotely nearby, a mug of tea, placed next to a monitor observing the room, shook with the force of the boys scream. A dark figure chuckled to itself.

 

----------

 

Soun set the phone back on its hook; it had taken some prodding and repeated promises of minimal collateral damage to get a police force from a nearby district to start searching for Ranma. The Nerima police force having been disbanded after the crime rate dropped to nil' because everyone was afraid of the resident martial artists. It was his second call of the night; the first had been to Dr. Tofu for advice. No answer. He had been gone nearly a week, and no one knew where he was.

 

Soun wasn't a fool, not in reality. He knew that Ranma and Akane cared for each other. If he had ever felt for a moment that it couldn't work, he would have called the whole thing off instantly. Everyone could see they were perfect for each other. Soun and Genma just acted like goalies, continuously putting them back into the game to make sure they didn't give up.

 

The aging man slumped down onto his porch overlooking the koi pond. “Well dearest”, he spoke to the stars, “How do I look to you now.” He said sadly. How they had met was so unreal, at times even he couldn't believe it.

 

It was late at night; he and Genma had just finished one of their frequent panty raids. Soun, having foolishly drank an entire 47 ounce soda at dinner, stopped to pee on the corner of the apartment building they had just canvassed. His mask was getting soaked through with sweat, and despite all his training to the contrary, he pulled it off to cool down during his break. Genma had gone on ahead to the next building without saying anything, and Soun turned to ask him a question. As he did, he heard a startled yelp from in front of him. He quickly turned back, and standing there was a woman, in urine soaked shoes. She stared, he stared; she spoke.

 

“Are those my panties?”

 

He looked down, and a pink and red thong was stuck in his zipper. He swiveled his eyes upward, and stammered “Ummm… no?” Another minute of staring ensued. Then, defying the laws of anything life can teach someone, she started laughing.

 

The rest of the story isn't too hard to figure out. Throughout their far too short life together; Soun's wife had been as loving as Kasumi, as intelligent as Nabiki, and as strong as Akane. Not to mention the fact that she was the most beautiful thing Soun had ever seen in his life. He had spent every day since they had first met each other wondering what had made him so worthy of her. With her unfair and far too untimely passing, they were all emotionally and spiritually devastated; and to him it seemed as if his daughters would never stop crying. So one day, to cheer them all up, he started behaving strangely and generally being weird whenever they were around, and it worked. First it was just to them in their home, then when they went out, then to everyone no matter who it was or where they were. The more “off” he was, the more they became themselves again. He was so concerned about their happiness that he never even thought about how it might be affecting him; one day, the person he was died forever, as he finally forgot he had ever been different. And so there he was, ageing, out of practice, un-respected, and had possibly ruined his youngest daughter's life.

 

“What could I have done different?” he said, honestly hoping for a reply.

 

The phone rang.

 

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Ranma stood in darkness again, his arm burning in pain from beneath the bandage he had fashioned out of his shirt. A few steps out of the first room and the door had slammed closed behind him. Once again it was as if it had never been there. A light clicked on in the center of the new room, illuminating a small device on a plastic table. There was a dish of some grey powder with a tube of clear liquid suspended above it along with various wires and mechanical parts. A few feet to the left in the shadow, there was another table holding small blue bead. The intercom clicked on. “The powder is potassium permanganate, the liquid is pure glycerin.” The voice was dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Want to know what happens when you put them together.” The machine started to hum, and a small drop of the glycerin dripped out of the tube onto the powder.

 

Nothing.

 

Ranma stared.

 

It sizzled slightly.

 

Ranma took a step forward.

 

A jet of blue fire 6 inches long erupted from the dish, melting the plastic of the tube. The remaining Glycerin dropped onto the dish and erupted into flame. The device melted in seconds, then the table. In a minute and a half, there was a black smoldering hole in the floor.

 

The intercom turned on again, “The bead on the table to your left holds equal parts of both substances, separated by a thin layer of wax. Imagine what would happen if that thin layer were to, say, melt.”

 

Ranma growled in the back of his throat, “What do you want?”

 

“I want you…. to see.” Another light clicked on to his right. The entire right side of the room was revealed as one large window. Through it, he could see a small but elaborate maze; it was stark white, like everything else. Except that it was also lined with black rectangles. In the center, tied into a chair was Tsubasa Kurenai. He was, in fact, very close to freeing himself.

 

5 minutes previous

 

“Lemmie outta this chair!” The young cross dresser screamed.

 

“Are you afraid.” The voice crackled.

 

“I SAID let me out!”

 

“You really don't have much to say for yourself, do you?”

 

“What is this crap, you weirdo.” Tsubasa didn't wait for an answer, before he bent over and started chewing and tugging at the ropes on his wrists with his teeth.

 

“You should be proud; I have given your life meaning.”

 

Tsubasa's ropes were beginning to loosen; he started chewing on the ropes holding his other hand and grumbled something about the idiocy of reality TV.

 

For the first time the voice was annoyed, the intercom clicked on again. “You may die in the next 5 minutes.”

 

Now Tsubasa was listening. He froze.

 

“Even I don't know how long you really have, better keep at those ropes.”

 

Tsubasa's eyes leveled with one of the black rectangles on the wall, the flashing red light and multicolored wires were a dead giveaway as to what it was; what they all were. “What… why…”

 

There was a laugh like an evil toy, “I would have told you, but you didn't want to listen.”

 

The young boy nearly peed himself, and then went back to the ropes on his wrists; frantically tearing at them this time.

 

“Game time.” The voice said, now amused.

 

The rest of the lights in the room clicked on, Ranma turned to see that the wall opposite him was lined with pipes and wires. With a snakelike hiss-click, the wall erupted into numerous jets of flame. Ranma jumped in surprise, and backed against the window. His head caught an edge of something, and he turned again to see a stereotypical large red button. In the room below, Tsubasa freed himself and ran for the first opening he saw. Ranma could see it was the wrong one.

 

The flames across from him extended a foot further away from the wall. The wax barrier in the bead on the second table melted, and in less than half a second the bead exploded in a violent snap of blue fire. “No doubt your back is extremely sore; you see, you have more than a dozen of these beads embedded under the skin.” Ranma twisted his hand around behind himself and felt the skin, it was bumpy and stung like needles too his touch. “Of course you will burn to death eventually, but this will help intensify the process. If the cross-dresser down there can find his way out fast enough; then the fire turns off. Then again, you can save yourself at the cost of his life.”

 

Ranma, who had been trying to scream directions at the young boy, froze. “What?!”

 

The voice continued, having not cared about Ranma's question. “The small black boxes on the walls are bombs; if you hit the button near your head, they go off, all of them, and the fire stops.” Ranma could almost feel the voices owner smile. “He dies, you live. Doesn't that seem fair?”

 

The room had become very hot; and the flames started a slow, continuous approach. Ranma screamed as he pounded on the 9 inch thick, bulletproof plastic wall. Tsubasa turned left when he should have turned right. A bead of sweat rolled down Ranma's back and quickly evaporated. The red light of the large button blinked on. His eyes glanced over towards it, then back into the room. To his horror, Tsubasa had stopped, and looked to be screaming for help. Ranma pulled his right hand back, and fired his strongest blow straight into the window. The window shuddered, but his fist bounced off and pushed him backwards. A bead at the top of his spine, specifically made to be weaker than the others, exploded with a sickeningly familiar snap-hiss. He gave a yelp of pain and leaped back to the wall. Tsubasa was crying and kicking at the nearest wall trying desperately to break open a way into some new path he couldn't find.

 

Ranma's skin started to boil as the skin on his fist broke open and left a spatter of blood on the window. He glanced up at the button and then back into the maze, his voice slowly being drowned out by the roar of the wall of fire behind him.

 

Tsubasa brought his foot up again and kicked harder than he knew he could. A small piece of the wall broke away and his leg fell through the new hole. The splintered wood jabbed into the back of the boy's knee. Desperately he tried to jump back, tearing off chunks of flesh and sending him back into the opposite wall. For a few seconds he pushed himself along with his good leg, and then he just curled into a ball and started crying.

 

In a dark room nearby, a figure turned a dial slightly faster with no small amount of pleasure.

 

“TSUBASA!!!” Ranma screamed, “GET UP DAMMIT!!!”

 

Another bead went of, then two. His skin started to burn, and his hair pigtail caught fire “TSUBASA!!!”

 

Down in the maze, Tsubasa cried out. “Ukyo!”

 

Another bead erupted into a bloody jet of blue flame. Ranma's nose was flooded with the scent of burning meat and hair. His fist hit the button.

 

The fire stopped instantly, and the lights for the maze went out. There was a flash of orange, then nothing. Against the untouched wall of the room Ranma was in, a door slid open. The voice came back again, “Let's move on.”

 

------------

 

Akane sat on Kasumi's bed, her tears temporarily stopped; a cup of tea sat in her hands. Thankfully, Kasumi always kept the ingredients and items for making tea in her room, her one vice.

 

Kasumi stared at Akane, Akane stared at the ground. The eldest of the two spoke, “He will most likely come home when he gets hungry, Akane. You shouldn't be too worried. This isn't the first time he has tried to leave.”

 

“This isn't like the other times,” Akane near whimpered, “The things I said to him were so horrible.” She began to shake, “And I… I…” a stray tear rolled down her cheek; as she was unable to finish her sentence and hold her tears back, she just stopped talking.

 

“You meant them this time.” Kasumi finished.

 

Akane nodded, another tear rolled down her chin and fell into her mug.

 

Kasumi leaned forward and lightly placed her hand on Akane's wrist, who immediately shook it off. “Akane,” Kasumi sighed, “you couldn't hold it all in forever. Maybe it had to come out.”

 

She shook her head in response, “Maybe, but not like that. Never like that.”

 

Kasumi sipped at her own mug. “I'm sorry Akane.” She said in her motherly tone

 

“For what?” Akane deadpanned.

 

“When we all met Ranma for the first time, we… Nabiki and I forced this on you to save ourselves. I guess I just thought you would shake him off.”

 

Akane faked a smile, “I thought you were calling me a lesbian.”

 

Kasumi chuckled lightly, remembering that when they first met each other, Ranma was in girl form. She stood up from her chair, placed her own tea on a nearby nightstand, and sat down again next to Akane on the bed. Her hand came up and stroked Akane's back. Well, maybe now you can focus on yourself now. Live your own life.”

 

Akane squeezed her mug so hard it would have been ground into sand if it hadn't been a special steel reinforced mug Kasumi had kept for just such an occasion. Her fake smile became a lost memory as she turned again to her older sister. “Don't you understand Kasumi, this is my life.”

 

Kasumi stared sadly, unsure of what to say.

 

Akane dropped her mug and fell into Kasumi's arms, sobbing once again.

 

In the upstairs hallway of the Tendo home, behind the door marked “Kasumi” Akane said the hardest thing she ever had to say in her life. “I love him.”

 

------------

 

Blood sprayed across the wall and a piece of torn skin came loose and flipped through the air to land with a splat on the ground. Ranma was standing at the end of a white hallway with a door at either end. The door he was currently at had been painted with the words

 

<Better Hurry>

 

The entire door was metal, and the knob was glowing red hot. He hadn't been given long to think about another way to get through it before he heard screaming coming from the other side. Another knuckle popped out of place as he pounded harder trying desperately to break it open.

 

The screaming got louder.

 

Ranma backed up to kick the door and stepped onto the lost piece of flesh. As he lifted his leg up to kick the door in, the bloody piece of skin under his shoe carried his foot out from under his body and he fell to the floor. He landed on an exposed part of his left arm where the bone and muscle showed through the cloth of his shirt bandage and cried out in agony.

 

The screaming reached a terrible crescendo and suddenly cut off; replaced with sobbing.

 

Ranma stood back up, braced himself and threw all his weight into a kick with his right leg perfectly aimed at the jam of the door. The old concrete gave way unfortunately, so did Ranma's leg. As the door swung open, a long hairline fracture snaked its way from his ankle to midway up his femur. He fell forward onto his foot and grimaced, and then he saw it. A bloody lump of flesh stapled to the floor, a long trail of blood leading to the opposite wall, at the end of which was Kuno. Bleeding profusely and sobbing, cradling an armful of burnt material and ashes.

 

Ranma reached out with his good arm to pull himself up, when the crackling of an old speaker heralded the voice of their host. The faulty wiring hissed and popped, partially garbling the message “This one wouldn't have… rked on anyone elsesssss but him, y'know; all that for a couple… pictures. Yet you could have…ed him if you had just used the knob. That's two strikes s… sonny.”

 

He looked up, “Wait I…”

 

“No excucessssssss” Ranma's right arm suddenly began to sting profusely, and a long hairline gash sliced itself open on his arm and blue light sprayed into the air for a moment then disappeared. His entire arm tingled for a moment then he felt nothing. “What I have just cut was the lines of chi in your arm. It's impressive that your energy is that visible.” After that, the wiring gave out. Ranma didn't hear any more, but the voice kept talking; unaware of the malfunction. “There was a riddle written on the back of those posters. I thought it would be fun to see you get them away from Kuno if he had managed to save them. No matter, A bird fly's east, a soul wanders west. The wind guides them both, but only one will see the journeys end. Which way does the wind blow? Choose wisely”

 

Ranma managed to crawl over to Kuno during this time and roll him over. “I always knew you were stupid Kuno but…”

 

“Mngggha” breathed the Blue Thunder. He wanted to say something, anything. But he simply couldn't

 

The sudden noise made Ranma jump; he looked over at the bloody lump, then where Kuno was bleeding from, and the bloody wooden spoon in his hand. The information clicked, Ranma flushed white, and recoiled of sheer shock. His mind grabbed desperately for something to do, if only to not have to dwell on what was happening. “I… I don't think it will be fatal, but I… you need to stop the bleeding.” His words were forced, and he knew it; what could anyone have said. He watched as Kuno's subconscious instincts clicked into place and he gingerly started to pack the ashes into his wound. Almost immediately he hit a nerve and curled up tighter. After a moment Ranma pulled the shirt off of his arm, and tore it in half; tossing one half of it to his long-time enemy. The cloth landed on his hip, he didn't move. Ranma crawled to him and reached out his hand, hesitated and pulled it back.

 

There was another moment of silence.

 

“Kuno.” He said.

 

Nothing

 

“Kuno!” he said more sternly.

 

Kuno shifted his eyes briefly, and then looked away.

 

Ranma grabbed a handful of ash, Kuno made a grab for them; but fell too short of caring to really try. Ranma swallowed back the welling bile in his throat and forced open Kuno's legs, pressing the ash into the wound. Kuno's body convulsed, but Ranma held his hand in place. Kuno stopped moving again inside a minute, and inside another Ranma had bandaged the wound.

 

Ranma scraped his hands against the ground to clean them; Kuno was still motionless. “C'mon Kuno,” Ranma breathed, speaking as quickly as he could think of something to say, “You don't want Akane to see you like this.”

 

Kuno's eyes widened, “Akane” he whispered.

 

Ranma leapt at the response, “YEAH! You want to see Akane, again. Right!?”

 

Nothing again.

 

Ranma leaned over and did his best to look the other boy in the eye, “You're gonna' be okay,” He breathed.

 

Kuno looked down at his lower half for the first time, seeming to look straight through the makeshift bandage. “No I won't.” He said quietly

 

They sat in silence for a few moments and rested. As they were getting ready to move again Ranma noticed that there were two other doors in the room. One marked with an E, the other with a W. Choosing which way to go came down to the most scientific mode either of them knew.

 

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo…”

 

They eventually went through the W door.

 

Down a long corridor behind the E door, Mousse was sleeping peacefully; which was best for him in the end, because it meant that he didn't know that an inch behind his head rested the barrel of a Mossberg shotgun. When the doorknob for the W door was turned, a tiny electric motor slowly pulled back on the trigger.

 

He never felt a thing.

 

About 30 seconds after they left the room, a small square of thin concrete near to where Kuno had been trapped popped loose. There was a small whirling squeak and a device resembling a bicycle pump lifted up into the room. Had someone been there to push down the handle, it would have caused the metal T-spike to pop free of the ground.

 

----------

 

In the upstairs hallway of the Tendo home, behind the door marked “Kasumi” Akane said the hardest thing she ever had to say. “I love him Kasumi.”

 

The older woman sighed, “I know.”

 

“I just can't stand seeing all those other girls all over him. I can't believe they would lower themselves like that, and then I think about why I can't do the same if I love him so much.”

 

“Isn't it obvious?” Kasumi breathed.

 

Akane craned her head upwards and stared through wet, questioning, eyes.

 

Kasumi dabbed away one of Akane's tears with her apron and smiled, “He couldn't care less about what the other girls do. Fawning over him likes that makes them look weak. Ranma has always respected people who live for themselves.” She brushed a strand of hair away from her sister's eye, “Like you.”

 

Akane blinked and thought, the truth dawned on her and she, once again, burst into tears.

 

Nabiki had heard the whole thing through the wall. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore it anymore. A second later she was on the phone, making a very important call. Three rings later a young, exotic and sleepy voice picked up on the other end.

 

“Mmmmm… Hello…” the voice said.

 

“It's Nabiki, no time for pleasantries Kaolla. I'm calling in my favor and I need it now.”

 

There was a dead moment in the conversation, and Nabiki could hear the young genius bolt straight up in her bed. “But, you said…”

 

“I said I wouldn't tell the police. I never said I wouldn't tell the good people at the Japanese Medical board.” Nabiki couldn't resist smiling; one of her greatest joys was the moment when she pointed out a loophole to someone who thought they were Scott free.

 

Kaolla stammered, “B… But he never…”

 

“Human experiments little girl; his opinion doesn't matter in the least, and you know it.”

 

The younger girl groaned, listened to her orders and hung up.

 

“That's my girl.” Nabiki said with a wicked grin.

 

A minute later, a massive amount of Japan's electricity was diverted to an all girls dorm in a little known corner of Kanagawa Prefecture. One minute after that, while Soun was stargazing, his phone rang. Nabiki smiled and went back to her list of people she was blackmailing.

 

----------

 

Kuno and Ranma limped down a long dark hallway. Neither felt like speaking.

 

“I see you two are getting along” the voice echoed.

 

“Go to hell” Ranma croaked; Kuno just stared at the ground.

 

“You're getting close…”

 

“Just SHUT UP!!!” Ranma screamed. The sound of his voice echoed tightly in the small space, and then suddenly opened up a little further down the hall. They both limped a little faster, only to come upon a merely wider empty dark space. He didn't see the ungodly contraption tucked into the corner of the room. He didn't see the shotgun or the trail of blood, Kuno did; leastwise the shotgun. “What the HELL?” Ranma said through gritted teeth. He was about to launch into a marathon of every swear word ever invented when he heard a soft voice call to him.

 

“That you Ranma?”

 

Everyone paused

 

“Ryoga?” He replied.

 

There was an empty, popping chuckle on the borderline of tears. “Yea, it's me.” He paused. “Akane isn't in here too is she?”

 

“I don't think so.” Ranma said, with the first trace of hope in his voice all day.

 

Ryoga chuckled again, “That's good.” A shadowy form raised itself up from the floor in a far corner of the room. An arm reached out. “Can you come to me? I don't wanna' get lost in this room.”

 

“Sure”

 

Ranma was halfway across the room when he was stopped by the laugh.

 

“Move on to the next room quickly, you know what happens when you hesitate.”

 

The Wanderer and the Wild Horse were more than shocked when Kuno suddenly screamed “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!”

 

Silence for a moment.

 

“If you can't figure it out for yourselves, then there is no point in telling you.”

 

More silence.

 

Ranma guided Ryoga's hand to his shoulder. “You okay to move?”

 

Ryoga shrugged, “Yeah.”

 

“Let's go Kuno.” Ranma called.

 

*Click*

 

“Kuno?” Ranma turned

 

The boy in question had found the shotgun meant for the back of Ryoga's head, and now had pointed it at his own. He spoke as if he was talking to the gun itself.

 

“If I can't live in my world…”

 

Ranma leapt for the gun, knowing he wouldn't make it. Over the intercom the voice laughed. “Oooh, a twist!”

 

“…then I just can't live.”

 

*Boom*

 

They were both glad they couldn't see the carnage because of the darkness. After a moment, Ryoga said. “Y'know Ranma, this reminds me of something.”

 

----------

 

The situation was morbid, but the need was dire. Torn between wanting to already be there and never arrive, Soun was averaging the speed limit. In truth, they were lucky his old van still ran at all. Having once been necessary to move himself and Genma from one town to another at a moments notice, it was now a complete wreck. He had already come clean to Akane, and was assured by Nabiki that the directions were accurate to within an inch. They had been driving in complete and more than awkward silence for some time already, and Soun was dieing every second his youngest girl wouldn't look at him. Without taking his eyes off the road, he joked “Maybe you two should have fought like this a long time ago.” Akane continued to stare out the window.

 

Soun chewed on his lower lip and glanced around the cabin of the dilapidated vehicle for anything he could use. The radio seemed to be flashing <use me> on its screen. The older man shrugged and flipped it on. Instantly it started blaring Don't Want You Back by the Backstreet Boys, he gasped and twisted the dial. It landed on a station playing Goodbye by Yellowcard, he bit his lip even harder and gave it one last turn Almost by bowling for Soup. He gave a grunt and turned the on/off dial all the way off, and then it broke off.

 

“Sorry about that…”

 

Nothing

 

“Akane I…” he broke off, there was just no point in trying. After another minute, he thought of one last thing to say. “I know he cares about you.” He said lightly. “He always has.”

 

Akane counted the passing lights and thought to herself, `I just hope he knows too.'

 

-----------

 

The pair finally came to the last room. It was stark white, just like everything else had been. But this time it was newer, cleaner. The ceiling was a good 20 feet up with a hatch in the center. A ladder with hydraulics was latched to the ceiling just next to it.

 

Ranma stared at it, “How are we supposed ta'…”

 

“Die” The voice said.

 

Ranma dropped and looked in all directions but nothing came. Ryoga stood like a statue.

 

“You must fight to the death, and whoever's left gets to leave. Simple as that.”

 

“NO!” Ranma yelled back, “No more games! To Hell with you! Ryoga and I will…” Ranma, who had looked back at Ryoga while gesturing with his hand, stopped mid-sentence and stared; clearly seeing Ryoga's face for the first time. “No”

 

Ryoga replied flatly, “I wondered when you'd notice.”

 

When Ranma had opened the W door, it caused a second series of reactions to take place; those reactions being the initiation of a timer for the device that Ryoga was strapped into, and the injection of a concentrated amount of Adrenaline into his bloodstream. Although enough to make a normal man's heart explode, it wasn't quite enough to wake him up as fast as was intended. He awoke mid-recording.

 

“… will slowly reverse all your joint's at once. You must press two buttons simultaneously to make it stop. I think you can guess where they are. Live or Die, make your choice.”

 

There was a loud click an then the room filled with a low hum as a number of industrial sized air compressors were turned on and began to bend his fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulders, toes, ankles, knees and hips in unnatural directions. He immediately pushed back against the pressure, and the movement stopped for a moment. But the massive amounts of drugs needed to keep him sedated hadn't left his system yet, not in the least; and the machine slowly, agonizingly slowly, was gaining strength.

 

His vision, blurred up to this point with the rest of his senses, finally began to clear; and in the dim light of the room Ryoga was barely able to make out 2 corkscrews in front of his eyes; just behind them he could see 2 faint red lights. Then, with a soft whir, they began to spin.

 

So there he stood, his bandanna pulled down over where his eyes used to be. 2 large red spots soaked through, and blood ran down his cheeks.

 

“Ry…oga” Ranma breathed in shock.

 

The Bandana boy couldn't stop wondering if he would be crying if his eyes were still in place. He tried to look at Ranma by the direction of his voice. “I didn't even get to hear why.”

 

Ranma's fist's tightened, veins in his neck bulged, pieces of his molars flaked off; he threw his head back and blood flew out of his mouth as he screamed louder and in more insane rage than almost humanly possible. His chi pooled into his knees and fired off into the ground, propelling him toward the ceiling where he caught the ladder and grabbed for the handle of the hatch.

 

It broke off.

 

A vein popped in his left eye and the white started to turn red as he pounded at the hatch with the handle. Screaming demands for release the entire time.

 

In a nearby dark room, the figure chuckled and didn't bother to use the intercom as it spoke its next word with a smile and pressed a small red button.

 

“Punishment”

 

Ryoga's hearing caught something behind all the screams, and he strained to listen closer. It was almost like a grumbling noise, like hot rocks in a cement mixer.

 

“Ranma,” He called out.

 

The other boy kept screaming.

 

“RANMA,” He screamed, this time Ranma heard him and stopped. “What's that noise?” Now slightly calmer, Ranma heard it too. The wall furthest from where they had entered was slowly sliding upward; a large hulking figure loomed on the other side.

 

In the small dark cell within the wall, Pantyhose Taro, the man cursed to turn into a Minotaur when splashed with cold water, had been sitting in his cursed form for 3 days with no food and small amounts of water while a tape played over and over again “Kill them and your name will be changed”. Such was his 1 desire in life. The beast had complete control over his mind, and he didn't object.

 

Ranma dropped from the ceiling and readied himself to fight, Ryoga did the same.

 

Pantyhose's eyes bulged and froth sprayed from his mouth.

 

He charged.

 

Ranma leapt into the air, Ryoga reared back his fist and swung forward as Ranma rebounded off the ceiling and dropped a kick onto Taro's head, driving it into Ryoga's fist. But Ryoga was off, and his blow glanced off the beasts jaw. A huge fist swung in wide and slammed into Ryoga before carrying him upward and slamming him into the wall 10 feet off the ground. Ranma landed and threw his shoulder into Taro's knee, who faultered and fell forward; his grip on Ryoga loosened. Ranma jumped onto Taro's shoulders, balled his fists together and slammed them into the back of Taro's skull. Ryoga dropped free, along with a large piece of concrete and rebar. Taro staggered backward to avoid it, shaking Ranma loose in the process. The Minotaur spun to face him; his horns sliced a large gash across the boy's chest. Ranma flinched and missed a step as he landed, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Taro moved to swat Ranma like a bug with his massive fist; but Ryoga, who was unfazed from the blow and felt the wind from the moving arm, caught the monsters fist on the backswing and effortlessly hefted him into the air before slamming him headfirst into the ground. Ranma leaped to his feet and ran towards Taro's stunned form, throwing all the chi he could into his fingertips he struck every fatal pressure point on the beast he could think of in one half of the blink of an eye. He froze with the last strike, pushing his fingers in as hard as he could. A small speck of blue light poked out of a gash in his right arm, and then he remembered.

 

“No” he mouthed silently.

 

A torrent of energy, hot enough to melt steel suddenly erupted out of the gash in his arm. Ranma screamed in agony and stumbled backward into the wall. Laughter echoed out of the intercom.

 

Taro, now coming around, ripped his horns out of the ground in a spray of concrete and twisted metal. If either Ranma or Ryoga could have seen his face, they would have seen him smiling.

 

Ryoga heard Ranma screaming and tried to run to him, but tripped on a hunk of concrete with a jagged piece of steel sticking out of it. The metal dragged along his leg as he fell, cutting him deeply.

 

Ranma tried to force open his eyes as Taro charged him again, all the boy could do was hold up his right hand. Taro slammed into him and carried him backward into the wall again, impaling Ranma's left arm through his bicep, snapping the bone completely in half and sinking into the concrete of the wall behind it. The human side of Taro mustered up enough strength to say just 1 word.

 

“Scream…” and he turned his head slightly, twisting the horn inside the wound.

 

Ranma tried to scream but all that came was a cough and a spurt of blood. He willed one eye open, saw something behind Taro and forced a smile. Hoarsely, he chocked out, “Never turn your back on a wounded animal”.

 

Ryoga, who had picked up the very piece of jagged concrete he had tripped over, slammed it down onto Taro's head; it nearly disintegrated on impact.

 

Without moving his head, Taro backhanded Ryoga, sending him flying across the room.

 

Ranma caught the jagged piece of metal from the hunk of concrete as it fell past his head and stabbed into Taro's eye, through his brain, and out the back of his skull. The horn came free of Ranma's arm with a wet pop as Taro staggered backward in shock, his hands reached up and grabbed at the metal, but his fingers stopped working. He grasped it desperately with his palms and pulled hard. A splinter of metal in his skull severed a few hundred synapses as he did so, killing all feeling from his waist down. He fell onto his face, the bar was ripped upward and his lights went out; permanently.

 

Ranma sank to the ground, breathing heavily. He tore one of the legs off of his pants and wrapped it around his arm and neck in a makeshift sling. He cracked a weak smile that wouldn't have fooled anyone. “We made it Ryoga.”

 

No reply.

 

“Ryoga?” He looked up for the first time. Across the room, he could clearly see Ryoga sprawled across the large chunk of concrete that had been knocked loose earlier. A piece of twisted rebar, stained black, jutted from a large hole in his abdomen. He wasn't breathing. Ranma could only sit and stare.

 

There was a faint humming, and the ladder began to swing downward. The intercom crackled on “Congratulations Ranma. Most people are so unappreciative of their blessings; caring only for something precious when it may be lost to them, and take advantage of it whenever they please…” The hatch opened, flooding the room with early dawn light and the ladder swung down into place. “But not you.”

 

Ranma dragged himself to his feet, crossed the room, climbed the ladder, and out into the morning.

 

----------

 

Soun's underused van clunked around the corner of a dilapidated warehouse for the third time; he spoke harshly into the cloned cell phone Nabiki had given him. “I don't care what the `child-genius' says, I'm saying to you `he's not here'!” the van b-bmp'ed over a manhole. A moment later, the metal cover popped loose and slid open. Ranma pulled himself out of the hole with one hand, slumped forward and fell onto the ground; choking on blood while trying to breathe and biting back tears he slowly rolled over to stare at the open sky.

 

Back in the van Soun was beginning to yell “Yeah, you trust your red dot's, I'm going to trust my eyes!” Akane turned her head and glanced into the rearview mirror. Without warning, she tore off her seatbelt and leaped out the door while the van was still moving. Soun jumped and lost control of the van, overcorrected and the van skidded sideways into an overhang support beam.

 

Ranma turned his head toward the noise, everything was blurry but he could feel someone coming towards him. His right arm came up and shielded his face, he quietly whimpered, “Please, no more”

 

Akane screamed and threw herself on top of him, hugging him tightly. She started sobbing openly, trying to ask what was wrong but unable to form words.

 

“A..kane,” Ranma cracked. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Ranma tried to lift his hand again but couldn't. She saw this and, grasping his hand in her own, placed it on her cheek. His thumb stroked it lightly, a tear rolled out of his red eye. “I'm sorry.” His eyes fluttered closed and he passed out.

 

After Akane gathered her strength, she and her Father slowly carried him to the van, gently loaded him inside and drove off to the nearest hospital.

 

Back in the hole.

 

A small door in the back of Taro's holding chamber slid open, a shadowy figure stepped trough it and strolled into the room. “What a mess,” he mumbled. He stepped over Taro's body, now completely human, and inspected Ryoga's wound. “Looks like it bisected your liver” he spoke to the corpse. “You must have been worn out to just give in like that. Even a normal person would have had a fe… urk”. The rest of his sentence was cut off as Ryoga's hand shot up and crushed the figures throat. The lost boy lifted the figure into the air as he tore himself free of the metal. With his free hand he ripped the bar free of the concrete and stabbed it up through his captives groin while feeding his chi into the metal, turning it red hot. The person kicked and writhed in agonizing pain, hot froth flew from his mouth as he struggled to breathe and scream simultaneously. In the hand that was holding the man's throat, Ryoga gathered and condensed all of the energy he had left; wraping and compressing it upon itself into an energy bomb. The air pulsed outward, bits of debris levitated into the air and disintegrated, Ryoga's muscles and tendons tore, veins bust spraying red mist into the air, and red-hot blood resembling strained tears poured down his face. Just before the figure lost consciousness, Ryoga cracked an evil smile.

 

“Game Over.”

 

In a blinding flash of the destructive power of nearly every drop of Ryoga's life energy that poured out into the new-dawn Nerima morning, every atom in Hikaru Gosunkugi's being was shredded and burned in an instant that lasted an eternity.

 

Roll Credits.

 

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A/N: Where did I come up with that? Say anything you want about this fic, I'm just glad it's out of my head.

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Secret Ending.

 

A second, very small figure, dressed in purple stepped into the room, surveying the carnage and jotting information onto a notepad. All that remained of Gosunkugi and Taro were a pair of scorch marks and some melted pieces of metal. Ryoga's body was propped against the ladder, now terribly warped from when he crashed into it. A good piece of his right side was missing. Happosai reached out, touched the boy's neck, and raised an eyebrow. He then went back to his notepad and wrote.

 

<Stage 1: Completed, Status: Successful>

 

Then he started to laugh.