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