Okay boys and girls.  Here's another fic.  It's EXTREMELY DARK.  In fact,
if you've read anything else I've done, this one's going darker than
those.  Read at your own risk.  I'd like C&C, but if you're going to sit
around and complain that it's super dark, I'll only tell you that I warned
you already.

Here it is.

Ranma and associated cast are owned by Rumiko Takahashi.  This is a work
by a fan for fans...

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This is REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY DARK!  Are you
SURE you want to keep going?!


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Sometimes I wonder just what kind of a life I lead.  I never really gave
it much thought until today.  I can't believe Ami's a widow now, and with
a daughter no less.  Poor Yukiko won't know about her father.  I was
always close to Ami, and now I feel just as close to Yuki-chan.  It hurt
so much to see her cry like that.  Yukiko and Ami deserve better than
that, they deserve a lot better.  If I have anything to say about it,
they'll never feel that kind of pain again.
I swear this to you both.
-Excerpt from Genjuro Furimashita's log book.


"Life is like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you're gonna get."
-Forrest Gump
"I hate chocolate."
-Genjuro Furimashita


	Genjuro woke to the sounds of birds chirping faintly in the
background, a gentle breeze rustling his hair, and the loud droning of a
garbage truck.  He groaned and pulled the covers over his head.  Even
though the aroma of breakfast and coffee filled his senses, making his
stomach growl slightly, the warmth of the covers was more alluring.
	"Otoosan, it's time for breakfast!  Wake up!" a voice called.
	Genjuro groaned again as the covers were pulled back.  A hand
gently shook him.
	"Otoosan, it's time for breakfast!  It's going to get cold if you
don't wake up!" Yukiko insisted.
	Genjuro squirmed back towards the covers.
	"It's a weekend for me," he mumbled.
	"But it's Friday!  I have school and you have to go to work!"
	Genjuro tried to ignore her.
	"Okaasan is going to be really angry if you don't wake up."
	"Big deal.  Your mother's not going to do anything," he mumbled.
	Yukiko gave a cute 'harrumph' and turned to leave.  Genjuroheard
her take a few hesitant steps before stopping.
	"Otoosan, is this a gun?!"
	Genjuro shot out of bed, wide awake and unceremoniously dumped the
gun he'd been cleaning the night before into a drawer and slammed it shut.
	"Otoosan!" Yukiko exclaimed, and quickly turned away, her hands
over her eyes.
	Genjuro looked at himself, realized he was clad only in his boxer
shorts and quickly ushered his niece out the door.
	"Thanks to you, I'm awake now," he growled in mock anger.  "Get
going!"
	"Hurry up or breakfast will get cold!"
	Genjuro sighed and closed his door.  He was getting too old for
this business.  It was time his sister and her daughter got their own
apartment.  He'd spent the past few weeks searching for one that they
liked, but both insisted on getting one after Ami got a job.  Neither
liked to freeload in the first place, and to have Genjuro pay for them was
out of the question.
	He walked into the western-style bathroom and quickly took a hot
shower.  He looked at himself in the mirror as he combed his hair, a
slight air of disapproval on his face.
	Still no facial hair, he mused.  I'm twenty-seven and I have no
facial hair.
	Genjuro rubbed his chin idly.  He looked like he was twenty-one,
but only because he had so little facial hair.  In fact, he'd never grown
a beard or a mustache or anything close to one, making it a sore point
with him.  He was the only person he knew of that had women be envious of
his lack of hair.  It was embarrassing, especially now that most of the
other yakuza were growing beards and mustache's to look more stately.
	Genjuro scoffed and quickly dressed, throwing on a white mock
turtleneck shirt and a black suit.  He hastily grabbed a pair of black
socks and made his way to the kitchen.  The odor of frying eggs and bacon
assault his senses, making his mouth water and stomach growl loudly.  As
he sat down and picked up the morning paper, his niece put a mug of coffee
in front of him.
	"Ohayoo-gozaimasu, Otoosan," she said, giving him a quick peck on
the cheek.  
	"Arigatoo," Genjuro replied as he picked up the mug of coffee and
carefully sipped at the hot liquid.
	She sat down across the table from him, setting down a small plate
of eggs, toast, and bacon for herself.  The girl frowned in a cute way as
she brushed a stray lock of long brown hair from her face, tucking it
behind an ear gracefully.  She pulled slightly on a red ribbon that bound
her long brown hair into a ponytail, tightening the small bow there.
Large, soft brown eyes stared at him for a moment before she began
speaking again.
	"What are you doing today?" she asked politely.
	"Nothing much.  Just business as usual," Genjuro replied vaguely.
	"You never tell me what you do?  Is it for the government?"
	"You can say that," Genjuro replied with a smile.
	"Yuki-chan, how many times do I have to tell you not to bother
your uncle like that?" a lady admonished from the kitchen.
	"But it so fun to watch Otoosan squirm like that!  I think it's
funny," she giggled.
	"Hurry and finish your breakfast, you don't want to be late for
school, do you?" Genjuro asked paternally.
	Yukiko shook her head with a smile and proceeded to devour her
breakfast with vigor.  Genjuro watched with a smile and shook his head as
his niece nearly inhaled her breakfast, grabbed a waiting bento box from
the kitchen and ran out the door.
	"Yuki-chan, your book-bag!" the lady in the kitchen shouted.
	Yukiko scurried in the door to the apartment with an embarrassed
grin and grabbed the bag by the door before waving and disappearing again.
	"Ohayoo, niichan," the lady said brightly as she exited the
kitchen carrying
	"Ohayoo, oniisan."
	The lady gracefully placed a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in
front of Genjuro, arranged in a slightly less haphazardly way than
Yukiko's breakfast.
	"Aren't you going to eat, Ami?" Genjuro asked as his sister sat
across from his sans breakfast.
	Ami smiled gently.
	"I already ate.  I woke up earlier than you as usual," she said
with a soft laugh.
	Genjuro smiled at his sister as she mimicked her daughter's
movements, brushing a stray lock of her long brown hair back behind an
ear.  She reached behind her to untie the apron strings and place the
apron on the chair next to her.  Ami straightened the white sweater she
wore and brushed a few stray crumbs of toast from her jeans.  She picked
up her cup of tea from the table and delicately took a sip of the liquid
before sighing and placing back on the table.  Genjuro chuckled inwardly.
	Like mother, like daughter, he thought.  They were so strikingly
similar, the two of them.  The hair, the eyes, the complexion, virtually
everything down to the cute button nose.  The only real remnant of her
father that Yukiko possessed was his constant energy.  Everything she did
was at full strength and top speed.  It was as if Yukiko were constantly
set in overdrive.
	"I'm sorry that Yuki-chan was bothering you about your job again,"
Ami said.
	Genjuro waved a hand and set down the morning paper.
	"It's nothing," he said with a smile.  "I'd be curious too.  Here
she is, living in a fairly large condominium in a Tokyo high-rise and she
has no idea how I pay for it.  It's only natural she ask what I do."
	"Are you ever going to tell her?"
	"That I'm yakuza?  No," Genjuro said quietly.  "I think it'd break
her heart.  It's already tough enough that she calls me her father.  I
don't want to hurt her if I can help it."
	"I've been meaning to talk to her about that, you know."
	"What?" Genjuro asked curiously.
	"That she call you 'Otoosan.'  I don't think that's right."
	"She knows we're not married, and she understands completely that
we're brother and sister.  I don't see what the problem is.  I don't mind
really," Genjuro replied with a hearty chuckle.  "It actually fells pretty
good."
	Ami smiled.
	"You're so good to her.  After David died, it was like she really
lost a big part of her.  She was too young for that sort of thing.  It
really changed things when you said that you'd be her father."
	"I do what I should for my family."
	Ami laughed.
	"Really?  You spoil her rotten and still teach her to be kind and
compassionate.  Sometimes I wonder if you're really yakuza."
	"Just because I don't have parts of my fingers missing doesn't
mean I'm not yakuza.  I might not act like yakuza here, but it's all
business when the time comes.  I try to make a very clear distinction."
	Ami frowned.
	"You've never told me if you've killed anyone before, Genjuro."
	Genjuro sighed.  This was a very sensitive point for him.  It came
up infrequently, but when it did, he knew he was walking on eggshells.
	"I know, Ami.  I think it's best that you don't know.  I don't
want you to think less of me because I've had to do some things-"
	"Did you?  Did you kill anyone in cold blood?"
	Genjuro's lips tightened.
	"Never."
	"You swear to that?"
	Genjuro nodded.
	"I've only had to defend myself.  I've never gone out and killed
anyone in cold blood.  I despise that.  You should know that Ami."
	"I'm sorry, it's just that I get so worried about you when you
leave.  I get anxious that you're going to be sent to do something stupid
and then never come back again."
	"I promise that will never happen."
	"I really wish you'd get out of this business.  I really don't
like it, Genjuro.  You had the marks in school to be a successful
businessman.  What happened?"
	"I just didn't feel like it, you know.  I can't explain it,"
Genjuro replied with a sigh.
	"I apologize.  I didn't mean to-"
	"Don't apologize, Ami.  I know that it worries you, and I'm trying
to do the best I can.  It's tough to just leave the business.  They don't
like it."
	Ami nodded.
	"I'll be in a position to do what I feel like soon enough.  The
boss wants to move some operations to Nerima; and if I do well, he might
let me take care of the business there.  If that happens then you won't
have to worry anymore."
	"I hope so."
	"Don't worry about me, Ami.  You should worry about Yuki-chan's
performance in school instead."
	"She's doing fine, Genjuro.  It would help her if you weren't so
inquisitive about what she was doing in school all the time.  It makes her
nervous," Ami said with a gentle laugh.  She looked at her brother and
sighed.  "What am I going to do about you, niichan?  What would okaasan
think?"
	"I'll be fine, Ami.  I always end up okay."

	Genjuro stared out the windshield of the BMW, staring at a
kissaten.  It was a fairly old one, having been around since Genjuro first
joined the yakuza years ago.  He idly wondering how long it would take for
the other yakuza boss's men to arrive.  Things were becoming tight, and
for unknown reasons their boss, Osamu Murashima, wanted to buy this boss's
weapons.  Guns were highly illegal and the punishment was severe if you
were indicted for possession, yet Osamu wanted them all the same.  On the
other hand, nobody wanted to question Osamu's decision.  He was the boss,
after all, and as the yakuza boss, he gave the orders.
	"Want a candy-bar, Genjuro?"
	Genjuro looked to the driver's seat at his assigned partner.
	"No thanks."
	"They're really good," his partner said amicably, taking a bite
out of one.  "You sure?"
	"I hate chocolate," Genjuro replied.
	"Oh well.  That's too bad."
	"Is everyone else outside?"
	His partner nodded.
	"Everything's ready, Genjuro.  We just wait for them to come and
then it's smooth sailing from there."

	Ranma ground his teeth in frustration.  Things were on the up and
up considering how her morning had gone.  Ranma sighed at the thought.
The usual insanity continued regardless of his obvious distaste for it.
First Shampoo decided to wake him in bed, then Akane waking him with the
business end of her mallet.  The two instantly got into a fight, arguing
and screaming.  He barely had time to get down the stairs before his
father decided to start sparring a little early.  At that point, Kodachi
had decided to bring him breakfast in bed, only Ranma wasn't in bed
anymore and didn't want to be in the house for that matter.  It didn't
help much that Happosai had taken the time to meet Ranma at the front
gates of school, a horde of girls chasing him as usual.  A little splash
of water and instant feminine charms, as far as the old master lecher was
concerned.  Luckily, Ranma was able to see the water coming.
Unfortunately, he didn't expect the women to chase after him as well.
Luckily Akane was keeping him on his feet, swinging her book-bag or some
odd object as usual.
	On the other hand, he wasn't at school, he wasn't really all that
tired, and he wasn't having much of a problem keeping out of harm's way.
Of course, this all meant he was being chased by a group of women,
brandishing various pragmatic means of inflicting pain.  It was plain to
see that Akane was among those doing the chasing, more to find Ranma than
anything.  It didn't help that Ranma was chasing a rather nimble pervert.
	"C'mon, Ranma!  You can do better than that!  Haven't I taught you
anything?"
	Ranma looked over his shoulder at the riot that was following him.
He could make out the occasional flash of purple, a giant spatula-like
weapon, poetry, insane laughter, and shouts of death threats.
	"Only that I should be in good shape whenever you're around, ya
lech!" he snarled.
	"That's right m'boy!  Wouldn't want to look flabby when you model
these for me!" Happosai cried jubilantly, waving a lacy bra in the air.
	Ranma heard a few cries of "that's mine," before the rumbling got
louder.  He wondered idly if Happosai would keep bothering him if he
suddenly gained weight and put on a few layers of fat.  It certainly would
make most of his fiances sick, but would it make them all go away?  Ranma
grimaced when he figures his curse would simply turn him into a sexy
redhead and simply maintain the level of insanity.  The only difference
being instead of turning back into a trim martial artist with hot water,
he'd turn into a fat slob.
	"Guess that idea's down the tubes," he muttered.  He didn't really
want to try it when he thought about it.
	Ranma barely turned in time to keep up with the old man.  He hated
getting caught in these huge chases.  They kept him fit, but it was more
of a hassle than he really wanted.
	"When I get my hands on you, you stupid pervert," Ranma growled,
"I'm gonna kick you into next week!"

	Genjuro leaned against the side of the BMW, watching the
transaction take place.  He coughed and subtly patted the inside of his
suit, checking to make sure his gun was there.  The HK Mk23 was still in
the holster, ready for use.  He didn't know why he brought it, only that
he felt this was going to help him today.  If anything happened, the HK
SOCOM pistol was going to stop any problems.
	"I've got this bad feeling," Genjuro's partner muttered.
	"Then go see what's wrong," Genjuro replied.
	He watched his partner trot across the street to where the four
other yakuza from his group were talking to four other rival yakuza.  Two
large attach cases were sitting on the ground between the two groups.  Two
more from the rival yakuza were standing in front of the alley next to the
kissaten.  Both had thick briefcases.  Genjuro had a bad feeling about
them.  All of them were standing next to a large delivery truck parked
outside the kissaten.  
	A low rumbling came from the distance, making Genjuro turn and
look a ways down the street.  A crowd of people was stampeding down the
street, chasing an old man and a young man.  They were swinging various
things, from bags, to brooms, to metal pipes, all the while screaming
something he couldn't quite make out.  It didn't matter much in the end,
as they stampeded through the street, knocking people and things to the
ground.  The old man bounced from person to object to person without the
slightest glance backwards.  The young man simply charged through the
crowd, the gang of women behind him rushing through his wake.  The
occasional apology was shouted, but Genjuro didn't care.  All he cared was
that what was a delicate exchange of goods and money suddenly became a
death trap.
	"It's a double-cross!" one of the yakuza shouted.
	"What the hell is going on?!" shouted another.
	"What were you trying to pull?"
	"It was an accident!  We had no idea-"
	A gunshot cut off all replies.  People in the street screamed as
the gunshot went off.
	"Damn!  They've got trigger-happy thugs instead of real yakuza,"
Genjuro muttered as he popped open the passenger-side door of the BMW and
hid behind it for protection.
	He saw his partner scramble backwards towards the car as guns were
pulled.  Six more shots rang out as all the yakuza began shooting.
Genjuro watched in horror as the men with briefcases suddenly dropped the
briefcase shells to show sub-machine guns.  He quickly pulled out his gun,
flipped the safety and knocked down one of the men with the sub-machine
guns with a single shot.  The other man opened fired, hailing bullets
everywhere.  Genjuro cursed as he felt a searing pain shoot through his
right arm.  He cursed and flipped the gun to his left hand.  He heard his
partner cry out in pain and drop to the ground.  Genjuro watched in horror
as people dropped from the gunfire.  A carefully placed shot from one of
his fellow yakuza dropped the other man with the sub-machine gun, but it
didn't save him from being shot by someone else.  Genjuro dropped the last
man from the rival yakuza group before scanning the street.  He couldn't
see anyone from the other gang, but one body was missing.
	Genjuro slowly made his way out from behind the door of the BMW.
He didn't see the cases of yen anymore.  Both cases were gone, no trace of
them anywhere.  He cursed under his breath.  The only upshot was that the
truck was still there, and the sample selection of guns and information
were supposedly in the delivery truck.
	His thoughts were cut short as he felt a flare of pain in his left
shoulder, the impact sending him sprawling.  Despite the pain he switched
shooting hands again and rolled as another shot ricocheted by his head.
One last yakuza hid by the passenger-side headlight.  Genjuro pointed and
fired.  His enemy dropped like a sack of rice.
	"What am I getting into?" he murmured.  Genjuro staggered back to
the BMW, taking the keys from his dead partner's jacket and sped home.
Things had taken a dramatic turn for the worse, and he feared for his
sister and daughter's lives.  As he painfully sped home, the faces of the
old man and the boy burned itself into his memory.


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

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

Quote of the day:
"You'd win if you stopped hitting my foot with your head."
	-The Amazing Spider-man