What the hell.  Might as well.


The standard disclaimer applies here.  This is a work of fiction for fans
by a fan.  Ranma and crew belong to Rumiko Takahashi.  No lawsuits,
please.

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War is hell.
-General William T. Sherman


Prologue

	It glowed on the table with a dim opalescent luminescence.
Slivers of colors swirled and flashed as they danced a fleeting waltz
around the surface of the pearl.  It was hypnotizing, to an extent, and
Ukyou Kuonji found herself staring at it mindlessly.  She blinked once
before turning her head slightly to look out the windows of her
okonomiyaki-ya.  It was a bright day outside, despite the darkness and
emptiness that filled her heart and mind.  The birds were chirping away
cheerily and a slight breeze played through the street.  People were busy
going about their business as they usually did.  Neighbors chatted about
the events of the previous evening while their children ran shouting and
laughing between the legs of their parents.  It was amazing to see
firsthand just how powerful someone who called herself "Fate" was.
Collective brainwashing was something Ukyou never boasted being able to
do.
	Ukyou turned once more to the small pearl before her.  She toyed
with it, rolling it back and forth slowly with her fingers.  It gently
flared once as she touched it before settling into the dim quietude of a
normal pearl.  Ukyou smiled gently and wiped a tear from the corner of her
eye.  The pearl gave her a sense of warmth and comfort whenever she
touched it, but it still could do nothing for the void that had filled her
chest the minute he died.
	She carefully picked up the pearl, set it back into the jewelry
piece she bought earlier on for it, and slowly fastened the ends of the
thin, delicate chain behind her neck.  The pearl sat nestled in the small,
silver dragon's claw that was attached to the chain around her neck.
Ukyou tucked the jewelry into her shirt and took a deep breath before
heading out the door for the Tendo dojo.  Ukyou calmed herself as she
stepped past the threshold, taking another deep breath and wiping the
forming tears from her eyes.  As she walked down the street, she saw the
numerous couples holding hands and exchanging quiet conversation and she
could feel the heavy weight settled upon her chest again.  Memories
assaulted her, despite her attempts to shut them out.  Ukyou took another
deep breath as the events from the night before played in her mind.  As
she walked down the street past the people oblivious to her pain, she set
her jaw and put on a stoic mask.  She had a funeral to go to.


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
Ethan Tsai
1 N. College Street
Northfield, MN 55057

TSAIE@Gridley.ACNS.Carleton.edu
http://public.carleton.edu/~tsaie/ethan.html