Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi
Chapter III
The Judgement of Boukyaku
Part VI: Sacrifice and Betrayal
Part A/B
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic
by Joseph Kohle
All characters of the Ranma series are the products of Rumiko
Takahashi's imagination and are used without the permission of her or
the innumerable companies that have rights to her products. This is not
intended for sale and all creative rights and copyright privileges belong
to Rumiko Takahashi and the author.
Nabiki was rooted in front of the television sightlessly watching a
movie as it played out on the screen. A dramatic play of tragedy and
despair. It told the tale of two lovers ripped apart when one's family
falls to disgrace. There was no point to watching the feature, she
already knew the ending. Driven by disastrous circumstances, the two
lovers had done the unthinkable and taken their lives committing
shinjuu; however, it was not a traditional shinjuu, they did not bind
themselves hand and foot, plunging into the water to certain death.
Instead the dishonored male went to seek vengeance on the one who
had dishonored him fully expecting his own death.
Penning his beloved a note of farewell filled with his dread inten-
tions, he departed and sought out the ronin who had brought him
down. When he found the churlish ronin, the twice-cursed, base-caste,
bastard had been in the midst of attempting to kill his patron, the one to
whom the ronin had dishonored the hero. Having nothing to lose, the
samurai places himself in harms way and prevents the assassination and
forces the ronin to his knees and confession, gaining back his lost
honour.
At the same time his lover found the note. Distraught with grief,
realizing she would never be with her lover, she took her family tanto
and spilled her blood and life upon the thirsty earth. She died expecting
to join him in paradise.
The hero returned, reinstated to his samurai status as a personal
retainer of his patron, to find his love dead by her own hand. Realizing
the horrendous result of his path, he had taken his life using the same
tanto, mixing their blood as he committed shinjuu.
The tragedy and sorrow of the tale were poignant to Nabiki. How
could she not be moved? Had not her sister returned only a few hours
ago, ravaged by grief? Nabiki shuddered as her sister's face flashed
through her mind.
Lunch was ending, the family circling the table when they heard the
front door open. Curious, Nabiki turned towards the hall to see who
was intruding within their home. The wait was not long as Akane
turned into the hallway and moved towards the family, slowly dragging
her feet, her head bowed like she carried the weight of the world on her
shoulders.
"Akane!" Kasumi had stated in her cheerful voice as she glanced up
from the table to see her younger sister, "Did everything.." Kasumi's
voice had died as Akane lifted her face from the floor, the room's light
illuminating her features. "Oh my.."
Nabiki sucked in her breath in surprise and sympathy. It was not
Akane that had returned from the trip. Some hollow shell that had
acquired her younger sister's features now stood before Nabiki. Her
skin was waxy, ghostly pale in the incandescent light, like an unfinished
porcelain doll. Unkept, lusterless hair framed the pale face. But the
eyes, her eyes were a blow to Nabiki. Her sister had always had a vi-
brant spark within her, a burning personality that blazed brighter than a
thousand fires on a dark night. Her eyes had no longer held that.
Wooden orbs of pain and sorrow stared back at her, rending her own
heart.
Nabiki switched off the television as the samurai's childhood love
read the note. She could not take that. It was enough that her own
sister had been thrown into the depths of depression. Nothing had
roused Akane from her room since she had returned. Akane had not
even mentioned what had happened, shambling past her stunned family
and disappearing upstairs.
The story had been dragged from a silent Saotome Genma as Ukyou
had returned Ranma to his room and then had left the house quietly,
leaving the family alone. Nabiki and the rest had listened intently as
Genma had explained the failed attempt.
She had listened as he explained finding out the information from
Miyanoo-sensei and then the trail that had led to Okinokami, the
mysterious sleeping village. He had told them of Akane wandering off,
only to return hours later looking very similar to how she had looked
upon returning home.
According to Genma, Ukyou and himself had been unable to get
anything from Akane except a imperceptible motion to follow the path
on which she had returned. Worried they had followed the path to find
Ouchi-sensei's home and his grave marker in the garden. Apparently he
had died several months previously of simple old age. Their mission had
been worth nothing, a false hope that had thrown Akane into a deep
depression.
Nabiki was terrified for her sister, afraid of what might happen if
things continued like this. Her extra-curricular activities had given her
an insight into the human psyche, and just to be prepared she had spent
time study psychology and mental afflictions. She knew that sometimes
people just withdraw from the world when faced with overwhelming
tragedies. In most cases the person would return on their own, but in
a few cases the victim had simply wasted away to death.
Trying to prevent this, she and Kasumi had both gone to Akane
after hearing Genma's tale. They had found her curled on her bed
clutching a picture frame tightly to her chest, rocking gently on the bed.
They had tried to talk with her, comfort her, reason with her, even
bribe her. Nothing they had said had reached her, nothing had broken
through to the Akane that was locked within that pathetic vessel laying
on Akane's bed. The whole thing was tearing Nabiki up. She was feel-
ing horrid about her sister's suffering and helpless because there was
nothing that she could do to alleviate it. Cologne held all the cards
now, the one hope of a cure they had had was a fleeting puff of smoke
dissipated by a transient breeze.
If there was a way, Nabiki knew that she could find it eventually,
but this time nothing had played out right. It was as if fate and the kami
were playing against them, betting on them to lose. Damn Cologne.
Damn her.
Cologne had done something that Nabiki found reprehensible, un-
forgivable. The ghoul had hurt her family, and Nabiki promised herself
that she would find a way to ruin the old woman. If she had been a
samurai, it would have been blood debt between them, but now it was
just a personal vendetta with Nabiki. Attacking Ranma like she had was
enough to anger Nabiki. She liked Ranma, he was a part of the family,
or would be, she had no doubts about that. But now it also involved
her sister. For that Cologne would pay and pay dearly.
So caught up in her own plans of revenge, Nabiki did not hear it at
first, but soon it became hard not to notice in the tomb-like stillness of
the house. A soft, coughing sob was echoing through the house,
steadily growing stronger. Akane. Nabiki knew it was her sister
immediately, she was the only who might be crying.
More importantly, it meant that Akane had finally returned to
herself, breaking from her depression and shock. Nabiki hurriedly
scrambled to her feet and rushed upstairs, some of her worry and fear
dissipating under this auspicious turn of events. She found Kasumi
already in Akane's room, holding their younger sister as she sobbed
uncontrollably in her oneechan's arms. Silently, Nabiki joined them and
held both of them as Akane cried, the closeness of her beloved sisters
comforting the stricken child.
It was a subdued Akane that joined the family. To anyone who had
not seen her earlier, she would have appeared sickly and withdrawn,
but compared to her earlier bearing, this Akane was doing much better.
She picked at her food and watched the family a little. Her skin was not
as pale, yet her eyes were still haunted mirrors. There was not much
conversation at the table that night. No one was going to chance
bringing up a subject that might unhinge Akane again. She was at least
now back among the living, for which Nabiki and the rest were very
thankful.
The silence that hung over the table was a miasma that improved the
situation like a festering sore improved one's health. Nabiki felt the
tension around the table, even Kasumi was subdued, a sad expression
on her face. Ranma's father ate absently, not even bothering to try and
take more than he was given. Her father was crying softly, mumbling
about how his and Saotome's lines would never be joined.
Just as the depressing atmosphere was becoming too much for
Nabiki, Akane stood up and left the table. "I need to be alone," she
explained as she left the dining area and walked down the hall to the
front door. Nabiki watched Akane leave with a worried expression. She
silently hoped Akane found some sort of solution while she was out.
Sometimes being alone to think was the best medicine. She knew from
personal experience. Who had ever been lonelier than her?
A hot breeze tugged incessantly at his loose pants, demanding his
attention with ravenous glee. Closing his eyes, Ranma attempted to
ignore it, ignore the withering heat that had gradually intensified over
the incalculable time since Boukyaku had attacked him. Delving within
himself he retreated from the prison realm and found his focal point.
Gathering it tightly around himself like he would a thick blanket on a
cold night, Ranma found a serene safety from the deceptions of
Boukyaku's realm.
This safety was as much an illusion as the prison. To stay here was
unthinkable, he needed to connect with his physical body, spread the
calm of his inner being to reality and eventually into his surroundings.
Encompassing his body within the peace he floated was a simple task.
There were no surprises for him within his body. Every muscle, tendon,
bone, sense was instinctively known to him. So he only needed to
include his body as a part of his psyche and ki.
Soon he felt the repulsive environment around him, caressing his
body. Though it was muted by the calm he had embraced, he needed to
spread that calm into the world to break Boukyaku's spell. In theory it
was easy to do. Take the inner calm and create a skin around himself,
while making the physical body the center; however, even in the
relatively passive surroundings Xian Lin had taught him in, he had only
accomplished the task once. It was like draining the ocean with a sieve.
For every few drops he managed to hold in place, most returned from
whence it came.
In a hostile environment, it was like he was trying to move the water
through a thick layer of ice, while he was drowning underneath it. This
was not to say that Ranma did not try. He threw his whole being into it,
trying to shatter the ice and begin protecting himself. It was to no avail.
Boukyaku was too strong for him. He did not have the control, the
experience to do it. Reluctantly, he released his hold and felt peace slip
away from him only to be replaced by the nauseating taste of the
damnable prison.
Forcing himself to ignore Boukyaku's influence, Ranma turned to
face Xian Lin. Unlike him, she could seal herself away from the prison
and had been doing so for most of the time since Boukyaku had
confronted them. Before slipping into her meditative trance, she had
explained that she was much more vulnerable than him and that it
would be safer for her.
Against his better judgement, he had relented to her request and
watched with mixed emotions as she left him alone again. Sighing he
glanced at the sky. It was no longer the sooty red. Instead a chaotic
swirl of fire and darkness hung over his head, an omen of the power he
faced. The world around him, like the sky, was blooming into its
semblance of life as Boukyaku became more firmly entrenched in the
single statue instead of the twelve.
Heat radiated in waves from the parched ground. Hot breezes
rushed over the land grabbing dust and adding to the grow storms of
wind and sand. The mountains were burning in the distance, and rivers
of flames meandered across the land like burning trails of gasoline.
Most of it did not touch Ranma. It stayed beyond his reach, pushed
back by his own hold on reality and himself. Only the hot breeze made
its way to him, penetrating his defenses as easily as a needle pushes
aside the individual fibers of cloth.
Ignoring the breeze, he returned his contemplation to Xian Lin. She
was meditating in the lotus position, her hands resting easily on her
knees, her head bowed forward. The quiet of the area around him was
disturbing. Since he had met her, Xian Lin had made a point of talking
incessantly. As if she were trying to make up for fifteen hundred years
of imposed silence, she would rattle on about anything and everything.
At first her garrulous nature had taken him by surprise and caused
him a certain amount of uneasiness. Simply talking with someone for
the joy of talking was a new experience to him. In most cases he never
conversed normally with any of his friends. They never chatted about
how they felt, what they liked, what their goals were. It was always
threats, insults, plots, and misunderstandings. To compound the
situation, he was not very good with words. Speaking always resulted
in him making a slip of the tongue. Generally this brought about
unwelcome and often disastrous and painful results.
With Xian Lin, he rarely spoke unless he was instructing her or
asking questions. Instead he listened to the constant flow of words,
mesmerized by her voice. She had a beautiful voice, a rich alto that
caressed each word as she spoke it. After a time he was so used to the
sound of her talking about the people she had been trapped within, the
things she had seen, that when she was silent he had checked to make
sure she was okay.
At most of those times she was not. He remembered the sullen
expression that filled her face whenever she fell silent. He knew she was
suffering. The pain and grief rang like a bell in his mind at those times.
It was her original life that was making her suffer, and he did not know
how to make her talk about it, but it hurt her, and so in a way hurt him.
He hated those silences, and now he was aching to hear her voice
again. Living in silence with nothing but Boukyaku's hatred throbbing
around him was fraying his already taunt nerves. Maybe if I go up to
her. She should know I'm there. Maybe she'll decide to return for a bit,
just to talk.
A few twinges rippled through his muscles as he moved from the
spot he had occupied for what had seemed like hours. He took a few
tentative steps and then began to walk in earnest toward Xian Lin once
he had every part of his body under control once more.
He felt a snarl rumble through the prison. Boukyaku was becoming
stronger by the minute. It would not be long before they faced the
cursed beast. He smiled grimly. The thought still terrified him, he
would not deny that, but the prospect of doing something was
exhilarating in its own right. It meant that he was going to return to
Akane soon.
Smiling softly as her face flashed through his mind, he stopped
directly behind Xian Lin. He missed Akane, more than he had thought
possible. It seemed that a year had slipped by while he was trapped. So
much was left unfinished between them. There was so much that he still
needed to do, that Akane deserved to have him do. The first thing I'm
going to tell her is that I love her.
Carefully he reached out and touched Xian Lin's shoulder, resting
his hand on her warm body. "Xian Lin," he called, "I think it's almost
time." He smiled then and added, "Besides, I need something to drown
out Boukyaku's muttering, and your voice is perfect for the job." He
laughed as he felt her anger flash through his mind.
Xian Lin patiently hovered within her protective aura. Through the
centuries of her curse, this had been the way she had kept her sanity
within the turbulent and violent energies she was forced to be a part of.
In this way she was able to watch the world and keep safe. Although it
was harder and it was more like sensing than seeing, it was a way to
interact without the danger of direct involvement like she had taken
with Ranma.
To any who would try this, they would find the experience not
unlike floating beneath the surface of a hot spring. There was a
detached calm and freedom of movement for the body and soul, only
the energy that surrounded the body could be felt, while the outside
world was perceived as a tremor against that energy. If she could have
remembered the experience, Xian Lin would have realized that what
she was experiencing was almost exactly what she had felt within her
mother's womb.
She had calmly observed the increase in Boukyaku's presence within
the single statue Ranma and herself were trapped. Soon it would be
time to face the cause of so many of her woes, and in spite of her
determination, she was terrified.
Boukyaku was stronger than the last time. She could feel the pure
malevolence and desire to be free in the thing. He knew there was a
chance to be free. He knew that there was an unprotected body waiting
to be his vessel.
More than anything Xian Lin would not allow such a thing to
happen. If it meant her own death and Ranma's to keep the creature
from the face of the Earth, she would gladly pay the price a hundred, a
thousand times over.
There were none but her who had contacted Boukyaku's mind and
uncovered the twisted desires that lay therein. The horrors that
Boukyaku contemplated were unimaginable. Once in the world, the
demon would become unstoppable, jumping from one host to the other
as needed, consuming soul after soul.
The Amazons never should have made that deal. They never should
have contacted that thing. We were wrong, so wrong. Why did they
not realize it? Why haven't they yet? Each time we feed its hunger, it
becomes that much stronger. How many have gone to oblivion since
I've been trapped? Too many, if Boukyaku is this strong. Too many.
She had assured Ranma that they could win. She was not so sure of
their abilities anymore. Even with Ranma's strength and potential, the
battle was going to be barely even. He was just too inexperienced to
face this creature, and no matter what, even if they could hold
Boukyaku, unless someone broke the curse, Ranma was doomed.
There was nothing she could do to prevent that from occurring. The
hold of the statue and the curse placed upon Ranma would simply side
with Boukyaku and destroy Ranma.
To tell him that was beyond her though. She knew that only the
hope of freedom was forcing him onward. His desire to see his beloved
Akane, to return to his life were making it possible for him to face this
threat. If he even knew how little of a chance he had, how much hinged
on people they could not see, contact, or even find out about, his
resolve and courage would shatter like a crystal vase thrown against a
wall.
She cared for Ranma. Being trapped within him, she had gained a
deep understanding of his life and motivations. She was the only soul
to fully understand what made the young man do what he did. On
account of this, she had become attached to him over the time she had
been fighting him to stay alive. At times she tried to help, but it was so
hard to do against Ranma. He was stronger than Boukyaku when he
was in full control of his body, and maybe that strength would save
him. She hoped it would. She did not want to see him lose. He did not
need any more suffering in his short life.
The familiar presence of Ranma approaching, broke Xian Lin's
thoughts. He was very worried and..lonely. The thought surprised her.
She had never thought that Ranma might miss her company. She had
gone into seclusion to keep herself at full strength. Truthfully fighting
off Boukyaku's clumsy attempts to control them would have only
stretched her reserves a tiny amount. Maybe she should start paying
more attention to him. He was being very nice to her, and it was
enjoyable to be able to talk with someone again, even if he stayed silent
most of the time.
She felt his hand break through her barrier and touch her physical
body. It was impossible to ignore such things. Boukyaku used
manipulation, but Ranma was real, and her meditation was not meant to
protect against physical attacks. She heard his voice calling her, telling
her to wake up. She muttered angrily as he told her he needed her voice
to override Boukyaku. So what if I talk a lot? I wanna see him stay
silent after fifteen hundred years. What a baka.
Quickly she released her hold on the barrier and let the prison to her
physical body and senses. Just as quickly she pushed aside all of the
small tricks Boukyaku had created, leaving a sterile environment
around her. It was an environment that should be there.
Quickly she scanned the world. It was hard to judge things within
her meditative state, and Boukyaku had gained a strong foothold while
she was occupied. Silently she berated her carelessness. As if they
needed a harder time from all of this. They were already fighting an
uphill battle, and she had let the enemy get entrenched.
"This is going to be difficult," Xian Lin explained carefully, watch-
ing the burning landscape, "We need to go and confront Boukyaku, but
not on his ground. We need the neutral area, the realm we've become
used to. Otherwise we'll be trapped in his deceptions."
Ranma nodded once in response. His martial training already
detecting the danger in facing someone on their own turf. Only fight on
ground of the enemies choosing when there was no other option. "How
do we do that?" He knew she had the answer.
"It doesn't take much," Xian Lin explained. She turned to face
Ranma and reached her hand up to his. As if he were expecting this,
Ranma took her hand and helped Xian Lin to her feet in one smooth
motion. Taking his other hand, Xian Lin closed her eyes. "Just relax
and do what I do. It won't take long and it will be easier to start doing
it now than once we are fighting."
"Hai," Ranma responded. He said nothing else as he opened his
mind to Xian Lin. The connection was easy to forge between them.
Soon Xian Lin was leading him through the steps that would protect
themselves by breaking Boukyaku's hold.
With a heavy heart, Toufu-sensei rolled the last of the scrolls and
bound it, the ribbon rasping against the dry and brittle paper. Since
Saotome Genma had called him from the airport in Okinawa, he had
buried himself in his library looking for an answer, even if it was only a
way to prolong the time Ranma had. Nothing. There was nothing he
was going to be able to do.
There were hundreds of remedies for possessions, curses, and
haunting oni, but they were folk remedies, many of them based in
mythology. The possibility of any of them actually working was slim.
He doubted any of them would work. One reason was that Boukyaku
was bound to the Amazon tribe. Having Cologne and Shampoo in
Nerima had given him an insight into the Amazon culture. He under-
stood that they were a closed people, and very individualistic. This
would insure that none outside of the tribe learned the secrets of
Boukyaku, and even in the tribe it was in all likelihood reserved to the
few older females.
Second, the statue was the key to the whole curse. The statue held
both Ranma's ki and the physical form of Boukyaku. Most of the
remedies worked on the physical body or the flow of ki within the
body. Since Ranma had no attainable ki, Toufu-sensei knew that trying
any of the remedies would be useless as sowing seeds on a bare rock.
If he could only find a way to remove some of Ranma's ki from the
statue and back to his body, then they could simply destroy the bloody
thing. With just a slight amount of ki, Ranma could regain his health in
a few weeks. There was something nagging him, something familiar
about replacing lost ki. The connection was just out of his grasp
though. It was some sort of herb, but what? None of his scrolls had
mentioned it, but he knew there was something he had heard before. If
he could only remember..
His thoughts were broken as he heard the door to his clinic open
and close. "Toufu-sensei? Are you here?" Toufu recognized Akane's
voice and pushed away from the table he was sitting at, the chair legs
scrapping against the wooden floor.
"I'm back here, Akane," he called as he left his small library, closing
the door behind him. He found her in the hallway, waiting for him.
Head bowed and shoulders slumped in dejection, she glanced up at his
soft step. A hope-filled plea glowed in her hazel eyes as she looked at
him.
The memory swept into him unbidden. The eight-year old Akane
was curled in a chair in his Sensei's clinic. Her knees were drawn up so
her forehead rested on them as she gently rocked herself. She glanced
up at him as the door to the examining room closed. "Will mommy be
okay?" she asked in a fearful voice. Wide eyes begged him to tell her
that her mother was going to be fine.
His Sensei had told him to leave the room, but even he knew that
Tendou Kimiko was terminally ill. There was nothing to be done, but
he felt sorry for this scared little child. She looked so lost and alone,
even with her family sitting in the waiting room. Kneeling down beside
her, he brushed a tear from her cheek. "I'll do everything I can, Akane-
chan. Your mommy is a very strong person." She smiled a bit at him
and then hugged him around his neck.
It was not so easy this time. Akane was no longer child. Evading the
question was not an option, but he did not want to hurt the child. It
was obvious that she was already suffering. Her bearing was of a
person who had nearly given up. She was coming to him for one last
chance, one hope that might help her, knowing full ell that it was not
to be. If I just had one thing to give her, just one thing.
"Is there anything? Can you help him?" she asked her voice for that
instant sounding exactly like she had nine years ago.
The poor child. I wish I could help you. "I looked, Akane. I'm sorry,
there was just.. I can't do.."
Her eyes dropped, her shoulders shaking silently. "I-I understand. I
know you tried, but.. It's just like with Mom."
Toufu watched the girl slowly turn around and start walking down
the hall. Helpless he stood in place. He was a doctor, skilled in the
healing of wounds, treatment of maladies, but human suffering was
beyond him. "Akane," he called. She stopped and looked back at him
over her shoulder. "There is always hope. I'm not giving up yet."
Akane was silent. Slowly she turned away and took a step before
stopping again. "Everyone told me to hope for the best when Mom was
dying. I did. I prayed to the kami and promised to give up everything if
she would just get better. It was all useless. She still died. I won't let
him die. There is nothing left but one thing to do. I lose him, but he
lives." She began walking away. "Why do I lose everyone I care for?"
she whispered as she disappeared into the waiting room. A moment
later, the door to the outside opened and closed, leaving Toufu alone
and miserable.
"Aahh!" Ranma cried out as a burst of flame exploded in front of
him. "I thought you said we'd be safe while doing this."
"Ignore it. None of this can hurt you. Boukyaku is extending his
powers to place this in our sphere," Xian Lin said. To prove her point
she calmly walked into a pillar of flame and stood there nonchalantly
until the illusion disappeared.
"Show off," Ranma muttered and continued walking. He still wasn't
sure about any of this. Everything looked so real, so dangerous. As if
to prove his point, the ground in front of him cracked open, a vent of
white steam hissing into the air. As the steam cleared he saw a twenty
foot chasm in front of him. He was about to jump across the obstacle,
when he noticed Xian Lin walking unconcerned across the open air.
Maybe she is right.
Closing his eyes he stepped forward willing the ground to be there.
His foot hit on solid rock. He took another step and another. Sighing in
relief he opened his eyes and almost snapped them shut in surprise. He
was standing over a black pit that extended down into
immeasurable depths. Gulping he continued to step gingerly across the
chasm until he reached the other side.
"See it's not that hard," Xian Lin commented as Ranma reached
the other side, "Just trust me, I've been doing this longer than you."
"Oh, so you're used to being trapped in statues fighting
obscenely powerful demons?" Ranma drawled. He was feeling foolish
and defensive because he had been scared.
"Don't start," Xian Lin warned, "We need to keep connected and
fighting between us is exactly what Boukyaku wants."
"Gomen," Ranma apologized. She was right as usual.
"And to answer your question. This is a lot like trying to survive
against you, although you're a lot more subtle and much more deadly to
deal with. I prefer these clumsy and unimaginative attempts."
Ranma smiled at the partial compliment. Although he did not
remember ever facing off against her, he believed her, and he was
feeling slightly guilty about it. He had not realized that his curse
actually had a real side to it. To him it had been an annoyance and
sometimes a fun game, but no matter what, he had always hated it and
tried his utmost to repress and deny the curse.
They continued to walk. They had decided to walk towards the
center around which the burning heavens were swirling. It seemed to be
a focal point, and that meant that Boukyaku was most likely entrench-
ing himself there. It was spurious logic, but it was all they had to work
on. Weren't they supposed to be denying this world, not accepting
certain parts of it? How dangerous was it to walk toward an illusion,
anyway? Besides they had to do something besides sitting and waiting.
Unlike when he had been walking to the mountains, it now seemed
that they were making some headway. Every time he glanced at the
sky, their goal seemed to be closer, almost like it was moving toward
them. He dismissed it as another fabrication of Boukyaku.
Burning stones began to fall around them, many bouncing harmless-
ly off his body. It was becoming easier to simply ignore Boukyaku's
attacks. The more ridiculous they were, like the dragon that suddenly
appeared over his head, and the worm like creature that tried to
swallow him, the easier it was to convince himself that they were only
illusions and tricks. The dragon he simply dismissed, and the worm,
though it swallowed him, he just stepped through. Curious about how
he could entertain himself, Ranma tried something when a chasm
opened up underneath of him.
He imagined a bridge stretching across it. As soon as the image
entered his mind, he was walking on a stone bridge. He smiled to
himself as he heard a snarl of rage.
"Don't show off," Xian Lin said, "There is no need to do it."
"But it annoys that bastard," Ranma explained, "I think I deserve to
be able to nettle him."
"Just be careful and don't get trapped in one of the illusions by
fighting them with your own," Xian Lin warned.
Ranma nodded in response and continued to walk. Truthfully he
was not as worried now. Somehow it seemed like Boukyaku was not a
very strong opponent. No, it wasn't that Boukyaku wasn't strong, he
was just childish, and that fact irritated Ranma. It was like he was being
insulted. Boukyaku was so confident that he did not need to take their
presence very serious. So Ranma particular enjoyed twisting Bouk-
yaku's attacks back at him.
It continued like this for a time. Ranma contemptuously picked
buckets filled with water out of the air and dumped them on fires. He
casually flicked his hand to deflect avalanches of rock and mud. Once
he even sent a mouse to terrorize a group of beasts stalking Xian Lin
and himself. Each time the act was met with the burning hatred and
rage of Boukyaku. Then the unthinkable happened. Boukyaku found
his revenge.
A cloud of smoke drifted across Ranma's course, obscuring the path
in front of him. Shrugging, Ranma began to walk through the smoke
when a figure appeared in the dense cloud, moving towards him. Cur-
ious about what Boukyaku was doing, Ranma waited. A slight breeze
swirled the smoke and the figure was directly in front of him, her hazel
eyes burning with hatred and rage.
"A-Akane," Ranma stuttered. No this is not fair. I can't fight her. I
can't ignore her.
She raised her hand and slapped him hard. His head snapped to the
side, his cheek stinging from the blow. "I told you not to fight Cologne.
I told you," she cried out, "And now you're going to get yourself killed.
I hate you. I hate you!" She spun and ran from him, sobbing.
"Akane!" Ranma cried and tried to follow her. A hand grabbed his
shoulder and dragged him to a halt.
"No!" Xian Lin shouted, "She's not real. She's just an illusion."
"Akane," Ranma whimpered as the reality situation began to
reassert itself in his mind. It had been so real, so very real. "That's not
fair. She can't hate me. She can't."
"She doesn't," Xian Lin comforted him, "It's what Boukyaku wants
you to think. If you go to her, you lose everything, including her. Stay
with me Ranma. You promised to help me get out of here. Please trust
me. She wasn't real."
"I-I know," Ranma said as he sank to the ground. Xian Lin kneeled
next to him and grabbed his shoulders, locking her gaze to his. "I-I just
can't do anything against it. I can't fight her. I can't. I love her too
much, even if it's only a shade, and Boukyaku knows that."
"I know," Xian Lin responded, "That's how he fights. He knows
your weaknesses, he'll use them against you. Just don't give in to them."
"I'm going to kill that bastard for this," Ranma swore as the rage
began to build in him.
"I'll be right beside you the entire time. I'll make sure this doesn't
happen again." The look Ranma gave her was full of gratitude. On
impulse she pulled him against her and hugged him tightly. "I promise
we'll defeat Boukyaku. I'll think of something. There is no way I'm
letting that thing win."
Ranma was shocked by the vehemence in her words, the warm
comfort of her arms. Feeling like he was betraying Akane, he returned
the embrace, finding comfort in his companion's presence. After a few
moments though, he sheepishly pushed Xian Lin away.
"Sorry," he said, "I-I.." He dropped his eyes. Xian Lin nodded in
understanding and then helped him to his feet.
"We've gotta get going," she said, attempting to brush aside the
awkward moment. Trying to hide the slight blush that was blooming on
her cheeks, she prodded Ranma onward to their destination. If Ranma
noticed it though, he didn't mention it.
In a daze, Shampoo scrubbed the dishes in the hot, soapy water.
Tonight was the thirteenth night. Tomorrow Ranma would die if Akane
and Saotome Genma did not relent. She hated this. Her great-grand-
mother was not going to allow her intended husband to live if he was
not given. "Stupid, Amazon pride," Shampoo muttered angrily. Didn't
her great-grandmother see that no one won if Ranma died?
Angrily, Shampoo grabbed another dish and shoved it violently into
the water, causing the water to splash over the edge of the sink and
onto the floor. Cursing in Chinese since she would have to clean up the
new mess, Shampoo scrubbed the dish until it sparkled.
She felt so helpless an guilty about the entire situation. Cologne had
refused her pleas to release Ranma. Even arguing the law with her
great-grandmother had been as effective as talking to a statue. She just
did not realize the danger of what she was doing. Ranma was not an
Amazon. The Law dictated that one not of the Amazon tribe was killed
for disobedience or an insult to the tribe. The Judgment of Boukyaku
was the ultimate punishment for anyone in the tribe.
If I hadn't followed Ranma into that theater, if I'd just listened to
him for once, none of this would have happened. If Ranma had married
her in the first place, none of this would have happened. Whose fault
was it? She was the one who had not been able to fulfill the Kiss of
Death. She was the one who had lost to an outsider. She was the one
who had returned without a husband, only to be punished by Cologne,
to have her great-grandmother come to Japan and begin her relentless
quest to attain Ranma as Shampoo's bride.
Whose fault was it? Was it Ranma's for eating the winner's banquet
in the first place and then contemptuously defeating her, Shampoo, one
of the best warriors in the tribe. That had forced Shampoo to give the
than girl Ranma the Kiss of Death.
Whose fault was it? Did it even really matter. Assigning blame was
not going to give her back her husband if he died. Death was perma-
nent. She did not want to lose her Airen. But what could she do?
Placing the last dish out to dry, she leaned against the counter,
ignoring the water and soap slowly permeating her clothing. She
wanted someone to talk to, but Mousse had been ordered back to
China by Cologne, and even if her were here, talking to him would not
help her. She knew he would take it as a sign of affection toward him,
something she did not feel, but who else was there?
It was useless she finally decided, pushing herself off the counter.
She was a spectator in this game and could not even shout instructions
at the players. Resigning herself to whatever fate was decided, Sham-
poo began to leave the kitchen when she heard the front door open, the
chimes ringing softly to announce the arrival of a customer.
"Who stupid enough to come in restaurant when closed?" Shampoo
muttered under her breath.
She was halted as the new comer began to speak. "Cologne?"
Curious, Shampoo moved to the divider between the kitchen and dining
area. The voice sounded familiar, but there was something wrong with
it. She couldn't quite place it.
"What do you need Tendou Akane?" Cologne asked. This surprised
Shampoo. She had not heard her great-grandmother come down the
stairs since she had cleaned the dining area. Using all of her skills to
remain silent, she slipped to the divider and peered into the dining
room.
The violent tomboy that had ensnared her Husband was standing
submissively at the door, her head and shoulders bowed. Her great-
grandmother was seated at a table in the middle of the room, her pipe
clenched between her teeth, her small form bundled in a warm wrap.
"I want you to release Ranma. He doesn't deserve this," Akane said
raising her head to face Cologne. Shampoo was shocked by the grief-
ravaged face she saw. It looked like Akane had been crying for hours,
maybe even longer. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin pale as the
moon. For an instant Shampoo felt sorry for her rival, but Cologne's
voice crushed the pity.
"Son-in-law deserves everything he has been given," Cologne
stated.
"No he doesn't!" Akane shouted in rage, "No one deserves this. No
one deserves to die, especially Ranma."
"And why is he so special?" Cologne asked mockingly, "He is only
another man. There are billions of men on this world. Surely the loss of
one is not so significant." Shampoo was shocked. She knew her great-
grandmother was hard, but deliberate cruelty was not a facet of the
venerable Matriarch that Shampoo had ever seen.
"There might be billions of men, but there is only one Saotome
Ranma," Akane shot back as she took a step toward her adversary,
"What is so wrong with him trying to choose his own life? Is it that
wrong for him to want to have a choice?"
"The foolish boy has no choice. He defeated my great-grand-
daughter. He either must marry her, or he will die. That is Amazon Law
child."
"There is no other way?" Akane asked hopefully.
"None," Cologne stated happily.
"Despite what you think, Ranma does not deserve to die," Akane
said quietly. Her voice barely reached Shampoo. "I-I renounce all
claims on him. He can marry Sh-Sham..your great granddaughter."
Cologne chuckled, "I knew you would give in child. Bring him to
Toufu-sensei's clinic tomorrow before midnight. If son-in-law's father
agrees, I will revive him."
"He'll agree," Akane promised silently. Shampoo watched as Akane
slowly turned and walked from the Nekohaten. As soon as the door
closed, Shampoo rushed into the dinning area.
"Aieee!" she cried, "Shampoo so happy. Soon will be married.
Violent girl and spatula girl never had a chance. Thank you Great-
grandmother. Shampoo so happy. Shampoo finally get what Shampoo
deserve."
"Yes, great-granddaughter. You will get what you deserve." Sham-
poo did not see the wicked gleam in Cologne's eye. She was too happy
that her husband would not die. Everything in the world was wonderful
as far as she was concerned.
The trek lost the air of confidence and ease with which it had
started. Each moment was a torturous hell for Ranma. Boukyaku had
mercilessly thrown illusions of Akane, his friends, and his loved ones at
him, yet the creature did not do it en mass. Instead many of the original
spectacles would confront Ranma, and then when he was least
expecting it, the true horrors stepped out.
Each encounter was worse than the last. Many times Xian Lin had
to physically restrain him so as not to lose him. He saw Akane bent
double over a katana jabbed through her abdomen. He saw Ukyou
crying over his picture as she slowly sliced her wrists. His mother
wandering lost, crying out for him to return. Akane walking only to
have a pit open up underneath her. She screamed for help as she
clutched at the edge, ever so slowly losing her grip and then plummet-
ing to her death. Ryouga saved Akane from a fire and then taunted
Ranma as he kissed her and led her away to a secluded grove, his hands
already flowing over her body.
Finally Ranma just clutched at Xian Lin's hand and squeezed his
eyes shut, willing the torture to end, as tears slid down his cheeks. Even
this did not end the torment. He heard his friend's screams, their taunts,
their pleas.
With each step the torment increased, with each step the rage and
hatred crescendoed within his heart. He could feel the energy of his ki
pulsing over his body radiating outward into the blasted landscape. I'll
kill that bastard. He took a step. Crumble this prison around its head.
Another step. I will not let that thing win! One more step...
"So you've finally arrived," a deep voice rumbled around them.
Ranma opened his eyes to see what kind of place Boukyaku resided in.
There were no surprises for Ranma.
Xian Lin and himself stood at the edge of a bowl shaped depression.
The center was a seething lake of molten lava contained by a shore of
jagged peaks of ice. In the center a pillar of flame rose towards the
heavens, to rip through the chaotic sky, forcing it to swirl upward with
it into darkness.
Ranma took a step forward, poising himself to leap downwards into
Boukyaku's personal hell. It was time to end this. "Ranma." He felt
Xian Lin's hand gently restrain him. "That is exactly what Boukyaku
wants. He wants you to enter his world. You'll be destroyed there.
Remember our plan. We want to choose the ground. He will come to
us."
Ranma nodded and stepped back from the edge of the valley.
"Afraid to face me boy," Boukyaku cackled, "There is no way to win
against me. You are nothing compared to me, Saotome. I will destroy
your soul. Your body will be mine, and then I will devour your world
piece by piece. I will enjoy tormenting your Akane. She will die slowly,
to commemorate our efforts."
"Bastard, I'll never allow you out of this prison," Ranma seethed,
taking a step forward despite Xian Lin's attempt to hold him in place,
"If you're so damn sure of yourself, why don't you just come and fight
me. Coward. You're nothing. Nothing. Without me you'd be trapped
here for eternity. I will destroy you!"
The derisive laugh that responded to Ranma's challenge nearly
drove him over the edge. "Let him come to us. We want him in our
reality, than destroy the bastard."
"I know your plan, mortal," Boukyaku explained, its voice rumbling
from the heavens, "But I care not. I'll enter your world. There are
things you don't know about this place, my lovely Coward.." The world
shimmered around them and a huge weight suddenly descended on
Ranma as he became responsible for creating and sustaining half of the
world around them.
The hellish landscape turned to a plain grassy field with a blue sky
hanging above it. In the center materialized a dark cloud, swirling in
random patterns. "I thank you for taking that burden off my shoulders."
Ranma smiled and glanced at Xian Lin. She smiled in response and
nodded her head. "You can have it," Ranma said an released his hold at
the same moment Xian Lin did. The world slipped back into the barren
landscape that had existed at first.
Boukyaku howled in frustration as the burden crashed into his mind.
The one thing Boukyaku had forgotten was that the statue was con-
nected to his own energy. When Ranma and Xian Lin released their
control, it reverted to Boukyaku, slamming the demon with the strain
of holding the world in place.
Because of this, Boukyaku was now extremely vulnerable. It was
the perfect moment to attack, and attack they did. "Hiryu Shoten Ha!"
Ranma shouted releasing his blast at the swirling cloud. At the same
time he saw a bolt of pure white flash from Xian Lin's hands. Both
attacks slammed into Boukyaku's form and ripped through it like a fist
through paper.
Boukyaku screamed in rage and pain. The cloud pulsed once and
the ground began to shake and crack as creatures began to drag them-
selves from the earth like some horrific plants, groping toward the light
of day.
There was no turning back now Ranma realized. This was it, fight
or die. He would not lose. With a cry of hatred, Ranma attacked as the
demon minions began to defend Boukyaku's physical form.
Heedless of the consequences he rushed in, his rage pushing aside
his fear of failure. No matter what he would make Boukyaku pay. He
would get back to Akane. He would keep his promise to Xian Lin.
Instantly he was swallowed by the seething mass, Boukyaku had
created. Ranma quickly discovered that they were very real and could
hurt him when a claw grazed his arm. This was going to be nasty,
Ranma decided, as he viciously kicked a tentacle aside, and lashed out
with a ki enclosed fist that destroyed the tentacle's owner.
The metallic clinking of coins dropped upon the counter, the heavy
steps of the man who had been eating heralded the close of the day. It
had been a horrendous day. She had only opened the restaurant at the
last minute, deciding that the work would distract her, bury her worries
under the constant drudgery of running her establishment. How wrong
she had been. No amount of work had relieved her mind, not even
dealing with the massive lunch rush despite her help not showing up.
Instead the work had only become harder, more grueling and stressful
as the day wore on, finally grinding to a close.
The bell above the door jingled for a moment and then the door
closed with a soft thump. Sighing in relief, Ukyou put down her spatula
and briskly closed the distance between her and the door. Glancing out
into the street, she saw the broad back of her last customer disappear-
ing down the nearly empty, night shrouded street. She flipped the sign
over to closed and slipped the lock home.
As the bolt clicked into place, her body surrendered to the stress
and emotional drain of the day, and she slumped against the door, a
soft sob shaking her body as she slid to the floor. A floodgate opened
within her, and all the disappointments and the sorrow of the week
poured out of her. She cried for Ranchan. She cried for her unrequited
love, for the emptiness within herself, for the unfairness of life. She
cried and cried, her body eventually shaking silently as her voice
weakened and died.
Everyone would be at Toufu-sensei's clinic preparing to save Ran-
chan, watching her Ranchan. Ironically she was here, alone in the
restaurant she had built to stay near Ranchan, hiding from facing him.
She wanted to be there, next to him, but if she went, if she went she
would be forced to give up Ranma. Once Cologne saw her, she would
be forced to make the same promise Akane was being forced to make.
Such a promise was not possible for her. Ranma was everything to
her. His was the face that she woke to, that she fell asleep to. For him
she labored day and night to keep her business open while attending
school. For him she waited patiently as he was pursued by the others,
as Akane hit him, as he was in fight after fight, and then she was there
with a smile and some food. Then every thing she endured, the lonely
night, the heartache and the tears became worth it when he smiled at
her, his eyes sparkling in gratitude and friendship.
Yes friendship, it was not love, but she was willing to wait until the
heavens turned to dust and the world stopped for him to say he loved
her. She had no doubts that Ranchan would love her as she loved him.
If he died though, if he didn't make it, if he went to Shampoo, every
thing she had done would be as useless as the dirt in the street. But to
give up his love forever was making her sacrifice just as worthless.
It had all changed. In the past week all her dreams had shattered
around her. It was not supposed to be like this. Ranma was supposed
to take her out and kiss her, telling her he loved her. He was supposed
to marry her. To be ripped from her like this, by something she could
not control was not right. She did not deserve this. Ranma didn't
deserve it.
Her eyes traversed the dimly lit interior of Ucchan's. Tables and
chairs were sparkling and well used. So many people had sat there and
complimented her cooking, giving her a prosperous business. Ranchan
had sat at that table in the corner or at the counter while they chatted
about nothing.
This place held so many memories for her, even for such a short
time. Could she let the last one be herself cowering in the dark like
some small child. If she stayed, she knew the regrets would live with
her forever. All the joy-filled moments would become dust covered
photograph albums, while she wasted away, bitter and broken.
Her hand touched the lock bolt and she stopped. She had not even
realized she had stood, her heart making and unconscious decision for
her. No matter what Ranma was more important to her than anything
else. She had to be there for him. If she wasn't it meant that she did not
care, that it was always about her and not about him. But it was about
him. He was her Ranchan. His happiness was all that mattered. His life
was more important than her own.
The bolt slid loose, and the knob turned. Ranma needed her more
than she needed him. Why was she still here when he was in trouble?
The door opened and she stepped into the cool night air. If he dies? She
shook her head angrily. Ranchan wold not die. Her steps became
quicker as she moved down the street. But what if? And I'm not there?
She was running now, sprinting down the street as she made her way to
Toufu-sensei's.
The waiting room in Toufu-sensei's clinic had been cleared of extra
chairs and a bed had been placed in the center of the room. Ranma-
onna lay on the bed, the statue of Boukyaku held tightly in her hand.
Ironically, being the person in the most danger, it was around Ranma-
onna that the room seemed most calm. The sheets covering the bed
were pristine. Her face was calm and composed, betraying none of peril
she was facing.
Around Ranma were the people that loved her. They were arrayed
in a small circle each sitting silently in a chair watching the bed in the
center, waiting for Cologne to make her appearance. On each face was
a reflection of often hidden emotions. Tendou Soun was crying softly,
sad for the loss his daughter was suffering, regretting the fact that his
and the Saotome's schools would never be joined.
Nabiki was distracted, her eyes wandering from one artwork that
hung on Toufu-sensei's walls to the next. She tried to look everywhere
but at Ranma or her sister. Living with someone for a year and half
formed a connection with that person. It was simple human nature.
Even two people who hated each other and avoided each other in the
same house would find a sort of strange comfort in their relationship
after a time.
Nabiki did not hate Ranma. On the contrary, she was rather fond of
him, much like an older sister was to a troublesome brother. Of course,
if she admitted this to anyone, they would stare at her as if she were
crazy, the unspoken question, "Don't you just take money from him and
sell him out to everyone with an interest in him?" gleaming in their
eyes.
Sadly she had to answer yes to this, but she had to do it because her
family needed the money. In a way it was her form of teasing Ranma. If
she had not liked Ranma, she would be charging exorbitant prices for
her help. Since she liked him, and she knew he had very little money,
she only charged him as much as he could afford, and even then just
enough to cover for his and his father's room and board.
She knew it was a strange form of love, but then weren't Akane's
and Ranma's feelings expressed in a similar way? It was just a part of
being a member of the Tendou family.
Anyone who looked into the family saw a very supportive and lov-
ing family on the exterior. Once in that family though, the peculiarities
became obvious. A loving and contemplative father became an unstable
man ruled by emotion. A beautiful girl passing her twentieth year caring
for the family, giving up her life so her younger sisters might make it
somewhere. A young girl caught up in martial arts as her only outlet.
Hopelessly violent and unable to deal with her emotions, she was the
most sensitive of the daughters. And Nabiki. She knew she was cold
and mercenary, but what else could she be? The family needed money.
She needed something to keep her going.
Ranma had thrown a wrench into that life, disrupting their comfort
and throwing them into chaos. Her father suddenly had a purpose, a ray
of hope in darkening prospects. Kasumi was given more work to do,
dealing with the obvious problems that Ranma caused. The emotional
disruption in Akane, the sorrow of Ranma and the complications of his
curse. He had changed them, forcing them to face themselves.
The Tendou sisters had always been close, but in a way that was
distant and was never shown. They loved each other dearly and would
do anything for the other, but they did not know how to express that.
Ranma had become a sounding board. Through him they had started to
see the problems within the family, the tension that was slowly tearing
them apart. He amplified their quirks and faults just by his presence,
and somehow brought out the better qualities they had always kept
hidden.
More than that it would just not be right without him in the house-
hold. Along with him he had brought excitement and profitability, but
more than anything else he seemed to have brought the family together.
Now, with him leaving, Nabiki already could see the family starting
to fray. Father was becoming more distracted by Akane's grief. Kasumi
no longer held her smile at all times. She did in front of the family,
offering them that harmony and stability that they needed, but Nabiki
saw her oneechan sometimes stop outside of Ranma's door and brush
away a few tears. Even now, she was not smiling as she sat next to
Akane, trying to comfort their younger sister.
Akane was the worst. When she had returned from her walk, she
had been a fright. Puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks giving testament
to the fact that she had spent most of the night crying. She had spoken
only a few moments when she had returned, informing the family that
she had accepted Cologne's offer and that they needed to have Ranma
at Toufu-sensei's clinic before midnight of this day.
From there she had disappeared upstairs. Worried Nabiki had
followed her while Kasumi had comforted their father. She had found
her sister in Ranma's room, sitting beside her bed, holding her free
hand. She had not even turned as she had entered, instead Akane had
simply spoken. "Please, I want to be alone." Nabiki had unobtrusively
disappeared out of the room, leaving her sister alone, respecting her
privacy. She had gone back later to check on her, only to find Akane
curled against Ranma, fast asleep.
Now she was simply silent, only speaking when spoken to. She went
through the motions of the living, but something had died within her
when she gave up Ranma. Nabiki knew Akane was expecting the
worst. She seemed to blindly accept that Ranma would lay down to
their wishes. Nabiki doubted it would be that easy.
She prided herself on being a good judge of character, and if
nothing else Ranma was loyal and very stubborn. He would do what he
wanted in the end, but there was always the chance he would follow his
bloody honor, and that small chance had seized Akane and refused to
portion her out any hope.
Silently, Nabiki promised that she would find a way to keep Ranma
here with them. The family needed him more than Shampoo or the
bloody Amazon's ever would. Besides this was not an honorable way to
gain a promise. Cologne was threatening life to break a solemn
promise. It was low and underhanded, something even she was not
likely to do. Extort, bribe, bet, blackmail, and lie, yes, but she would
never force someone's honor like this.
There were always loopholes, however, and Nabiki would find one,
at least for her sister's sake. Besides, she always could use the extra
money Ranma generated. She was willing to admit she wanted Ranma
around because she liked him, but her mercenary nature forced her to
have a tangible reason for keeping him to compliment the emotional
one. That way she could keep up the illusion she had created that kept
her from getting hurt.
Her thoughts were broken as the front door opened and Saotome
Genma entered the clinic. 'Uncle' Genma was for once not a panda. As
he entered his eyes flashed over everything in the room, marking
positions and distances like a trained fighter. Finally his eyes rested on
his son and stayed there as he walked into the room and took a chair in
the corner.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nabiki saw Akane glance toward
Saotome-san. Indecision crossed her sister's face and then disappeared
like a fleeting shadow. Gently she removed Kasumi's hand from her
own and stood up. With determined steps, she crossed the room and
stopped directly in front of Saotome-san, forcing him to look at her.
She asked him a question. He shook his head. Curious, Nabiki
leaned forward trying to catch the conversation, but they were keeping
their voices low. She had an idea about what they were arguing about.
This was confirmed when Akane pointed at Ranma and said something.
Saotome-san flinched and dropped his head, shaking it once again.
Akane started to turn away and then reconsidered. She turned back
and sank to her knees in front of Saotome-san and spoke for a few
minutes, gesturing every so often. Saotome-san listened. It was obvious
Akane was not going to give up without fighting, and he obviously
realized this. Finally Saotome-san nodded his head once in acceptance.
Nabiki watched as Akane stood and returned to her seat, her face
calmer than before. As she passed the table, she lightly touched Ranma-
onna's cheek, a small, wistful smile lighting her face. Returning to her
seat, Akane sank back into the chair in relief, her face once again
becoming an unreadable mask as she watched Ranma. Kasumi gave
Nabiki an encouraging smile when she noticed Nabiki watching. Nabiki
smiled back but was unable to say anything as the door opened
admitting Cologne and Shampoo.
The room was immediately crackling with suppressed tension.
Everyone who was occupying the room had a reason to hate the old
woman, and at least a good reason to dislike the purple-haired bundle
of Chinese hormones that was gaily smiling next to the withered, old
crone.
Both seemed oblivious to the mood in the room. Cologne assuredly
did not care that these people were suffering. Nabiki could tell that
Shampoo was lost in some alternate reality, happily planning her
wedding to Ranma. It sickened Nabiki. For the first time in her life she
wanted to do something for no motive other than petty revenge. She
wanted to ruin them, humiliate them, force them to come begging to
her for mercy while on their knees.
Genma was glaring at the newcomers, ripping the two limb from
limb with his eyes. Akane was glowing slightly with repressed anger.
Kasumi pointedly ignored the two, going so far as to look the other
way when they entered. This was more of an insult than any of the
others combined. Discourtesy on the part of Kasumi was tantamount to
slapping someone in the face after kicking his aging mother out of her
own house because the minute egg had been cooked an extra ten
seconds.
Nabiki settled for a smug expression of superiority. There was no
way she was going to give these two the impression that they had
unhinged her calm and orderly world.
Well this is the end of Pt 6 sect a of Ch 3 of MASN ( you know
I gotta come up with a faster way to say that) Anyway I hoped you
liked this and you want to go on to the sect b of pt 6, oh please do and
then comment. I like comments..heck without C&C this pt 6 would not
look like this.
Enjoy
Joseph Kohle