Okay.  First, the disclaimer.  This is a work of fiction by a fan for
fans.  Ranma and the Ranma 1/2 cast are property of Rumiko Takahashi.
Please don't sue me.

Now, the warning.  If you haven't noticed, this one's DARK!  VERY DARK
THIS IS, to put it in yoda-speak.  There's nothing remotely happy, funny,
or heart-warming in this fic.  Nothing but gristle, and pain.  If that's
not what you like to read, then delete this now!  Just forget about
reading it and go about your business.
On the other hand, if DARK is what you like to read, then be my guest and
keep reading.  Please note that there IS a LEMON tag on this.  I will
never write a true lemon, but there is a rape scene in here that is
pivotal in the motivation of one character in the story.  If that's not
your style, THEN DELETE THIS POST.  I don't want to hear anyone
complaining that they read the fic and then got sick from the contents.
I'm warning you now so that you can make the right decision!  Furthermore,
PEOPLE WHO SHOULDN'T BE READING SUCH THINGS SHOULD READ SOMETHING ELSE!
You know who you are, and I'm hoping that you're honorable enough to go
about your business, doing things you should be doing, instead of reading
a NC sex scene.

Okay.  That's all I have to say about that.

Read on if you want.  C&C is very much appreciated.  Flames, as usual, are
not.
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"One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal sword went
snicker-snack!"
-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass


	Genjuro stared numbly at the door to his apartment.  It was
slightly ajar.  He pulled the gun from its holster, putting it into his
right hand, readying himself for another firefight.  It never came.
	"Come in, Genjuro, we've been waiting for you," a voice called.
	Genjuro slipped the gun back into his holster and slowly opened
the door.  His heart twisted, sending cold chills through his body.  He
wanted to scream and cry at the same time.
	"Welcome home, Genjuro," the voice called again, as the door
stopped, completely open.
	Two yakuza he'd seen with his boss stood behind Ami and Yukiko,
pointing guns at the two women.  His sister and niece had their hands tied
behind their backs.  The two women were kneeling on the ground in front of
the yakuza, flanked by two punks from the street.  Genjuro'd never seen
them before, but he instantly memorized the faces.  Both had bizarre
hairstyles and colors, as if they were lifted out of some cheap anime.
One had a chain in one hand, the other a baseball bat.  Both sneered at
him.  Genjuro tried to remain calm.
	As he walked in, he felt someone grab him in a chokehold from
behind.  A club struck him in the back of the knees, bringing down to the
ground.  He was quickly trussed up in chains and slammed into a wall.  Two
more punks with strange hair stepped out from around him, one giving him a
kick in the ribs with a laugh.
	"What do you want?" Genjuro asked through grit teeth.
	"The Osamu knows what happened today in Nerima, Genjuro." The
yakuza on his left said calmly.
	"The boss isn't pleased at all," the other said.
	"He thinks you purposely set it all up," the one on the left
continued.
	"I was lucky to get out alive!" Genjuro protested.
	"Then where's the money, Genjuro?" the one on the right asked.
	"I didn't see it after the firefight!  Anyone could have taken
it!"
	"It was your responsibility, Genjuro.  How do we know you didn't
mastermind the whole thing to get the guns and the money?" the one on the
left asked.
	Genjuro saw his niece's eyes open wide.
	"Guns?" she whispered.
	"Didn't you know your old man was yakuza, sweetcheeks?" the punk
with pink hair asked.
	Yukiko fell silent, a look of betrayal in her eyes.  Genjuro
simply looked away, feeling his stomach knotting, choking back the
bitterness in his mouth.
	"The boss isn't pleased, Genjuro.  The money is gone, the guns are
gone, and you're the only one alive.  What do you think he thinks?"
	"I didn't do it!  It was just some kid who was being chased by a
bunch of women!  I swear to you this is true!"
	"That's hard to believe, Genjuro.  Even though the deal was pretty
sensitive, a kid shouldn't have started off anything."
	"They had military guns," Genjuro pleaded, "nobody was prepared
for a bunch of rival yakuza with military guns and itchy trigger fingers!"
	"Genjuro, it is beyond discussion.  You've had an exemplary record
with us until this, and the boss isn't pleased.  You've come too far in
too short a time to owe it to dumb luck.  The boss thinks you're too smart
for your own good," the one on the right said evenly.
	"This is one failure that smacks too much of a double cross," the
one on the left added with a glance at Genjuro's niece.
	"You're not going to kill my family are you?  You can't.  They're
not involved.  Have me cut off a finger, two fingers, anything!  Just
don't touch my family," Genjuro pleaded.
	"It's too late for that, Genjuro.  We're not the ones who gave the
orders, we just follow them," the one on the right replied.
	The two yakuza simply walked out of the room, the last one pausing
before he left the doorway.
	"You know what to do," he said simply, before leaving quietly,
closing the door behind him.

	Genjuro's life became a slow smear in his vision.  He could do
nothing as the four punks from the street simply beat him repeatedly.
He'd stopped trying to roll away or protect himself, his body simply not
responding to his commands.  He could feel the cracked ribs, the dull
throb from bruised bones, and the pooling blood under his body.
Everything he'd held dear was slowly being wrenched from him and torn into
pieces.  He was dimly aware of Ami and Yukiko screaming and crying,
pleading for the four to stop.
	When the four punks finally ceased their seemingly eternal
torment, they roughly grabbed Genjuro and threw him against a wall,
spraying some blood onto the immaculately white walls of the apartment.
Red streaks trailed his body as he slid weakly to the floor.
	His swollen eyes watched numbly as the four surrounded his sister
and niece.  The two cowered under the sneers and lecherous grins.
	"Hey baby, let's see what you've got under that," the punk with
bright red, spiked hair jeered.
	Genjuro tried screaming for them to stop, only to have the cry die
in his throat.  He tried to stand, pouring his heart in soul into the
movement, but only succeeded in slumping over.  A punk with blue hair
walked over and picked up Genjuro's beaten body.  He roughly threw the
thrashed yakuza into an armchair and forced Genjuro to watch helplessly as
the other three ripped Ami's clothes from her body.
	"Check that babe out!" one sneered.
	"I got that hot piece of meat first!" jeered another.
	Genjuro could feel his stomach knot and turn, trying to tear
itself out from his body.  He wanted to grab the punks and rip their
hearts out with his bare hands.  He wanted to make them feel the pain he
felt now as he watched them unzip their pants, flashing their dirty
penises at his sister.
	With a laugh and hearty roar, the one with red hair thrust himself
into Ami's convulsing body as she screamed and cried.  Ami's desperate
cries for help fell on deaf ears.  Her screaming pleas for them to stop
were met with laughs.  The three roughly groped her breasts, spitting on
her and masturbating in front of her.  They slapped her face, calling her
a whore and demanding she scream in pleasure.  Ami screamed, but only in
pain and wept tears of shame and pain.
	Genjuro struggled to his feet, his face twisted in agony and pain.
He roared in pain and tried to charge one of them, only to be greeted with
a bat to the face.  He felt his cheek shatter under the impact of the
metal.  He slumped back, drooling blood, his eyes burning with hatred,
transfixed on the three defiling his sister.
	Ami fell to the ground, limp and trembling as the three threw her
to the ground.  They roughly grabbed her hair and forced her to the coffee
table, roughly throwing her over it and grabbed at her buttocks.  One with
green hair shoved his penis into her sphincter without warning, thrusting
in and out forcefully as Ami's cries of pain filled Genjuro's ears.
	"Man this chick is so fucking tight!" the green-haired punk said
with a laugh.
	"This is too fucking cool," the one with red hair said as he
roughly grabbed Yukiko and threw her over her mother, ripping her school
uniform off.  He roughly forced Yukiko's legs apart, grabbing at her sex
and roughly shoving fingers into her.  Yukiko screamed in pain and agony
as the punk violated her.  Genjuro could only watch numbly as the four
simply violated his sister and niece, urinating on them, raping them and
groping their bodies.  He could see Ami's eyes, glazed over from the
abuse, her mind finally closing itself to the horrors of her environment.
	One of the street trash finally made the mistake of shoving his
soiled penis into Yukiko's mouth.  Yukiko choked and gagged as he thrust
into her mouth regardless of her pain and uncomfortable position.  Yukiko
instinctively gagged and then bit down, hard on the punk's member.  With a
scream he yanked himself out of her mouth, his penis streaked with blood.
	"You fucking whore!" he shouted, backhanding Yukiko sending her
sprawling.  Yukiko lay on the ground dazed as the punk kicked her in the
stomach and hauled her to her feet by her hair.
	"I'll teach you to fucking bite me, you bitch!" he screamed.
	The punk strode over the where Genjuro was slumped over, staring
at him with hate and a lust for his blood.  The punk searched Genjuro's
body and pulled out the Mk23.
	"I'll show you, you fucking bitch!" he swore as he pointed the
gun.
	The sound of the gun firing flooded Genjuro's ears like thunder.
His mind screamed, his mouth opened, but no sound came out.
	"Man, this is one fucking gun!" the punk said in glee.
	"Shit!  You gonna keep that fucking thing?!" one shouted.
	"Man you get caught with that shit and you're gonna get fucked
up!" another sneered.
	Genjuro watched with a twisted pain as he saw Yukiko twitch once
and then lay still.  Ami's piercing wail broke the silence, only to be met
by repeated gunshots from the Mk23.  Ami's body convulsed as the bullets
ripped through her body.
	The punk threw the gun back at Genjuro before kicking him in the
face again.  Genjuro felt the chain roughly stripped from his body as the
punk wrenched them from Genjuro's body.  The semi-conscious yakuza slumped
to the ground, and slowly, painfully crawled towards his dead niece.  He
could feel the pooling blood as he dragged himself to her body.  He
clutched her body, seeing the wide lifeless eyes and gaping mouth, crying
openly, shedding tears that mixed with the streams of blood on her body.
	Genjuro was dimly aware of an acrid liquid being splashed about
and poured all over the apartment.  He watched through half-open eyes
blurred with tears as the four punks poured gas unceremoniously from the
front door and trailed it out from the apartment.  They laughed like
schoolboys who'd played hooky for the first time, reveling in false
freedom.
	"Yukichan," he heard softly.  It was as quiet as the landing
sakura in spring.
	Genjuro painfully dragged himself to his sister, watching her
heaving body take its final pained breath and heave into stillness and
silence.  Genjuro took her still hand, bathed in blood and cried anew,
finding the tears for his sister and niece.  It was then that Genjuro
found his voice, and he screamed in pain.  He lurched to his knees
screaming and crying in agony.
	Suddenly, he heard the rushing wind from a wall of flame surging
through the hall in front of his apartment.  He watched as the flames
poured through the door igniting the room, turning it into a blazing
inferno of blood, tears, and fire.  Genjuro watched as his personal hell
surged forth, wrapping him in its sick heat, filling his nose with
scorched blood and death.  In the flames he could see the punks laughing,
sneering, jeering as they raped his family, stole their lives, and tore
them away from him.  
	His chest felt hollow and cold without his sister and niece.
Never again would he see their smiling faces.  He would never hear Yukiko
wake him with her smile, giving him a quick kiss, calling him 'Otoosan' as
if her were her true father.  He only see her ravaged and still in his
dreams, snow stained with blood and violence.  Ami would be forever gone
from his life, her warm smile and caring soul torn away from him.  Her
angelic face was bloodied, shattered into a million pieces in an instant.
He could see it in his mind's eye, her pained face haunting him for
eternity, awash in a rain of blood from the sky.
	There in the fire and death, the hollowness in Genjuro's chest
slowly filled with the darkness and hellfire that surrounded him.  He
opened his eyes and stared into the burning hell before him, feeling his
tears streaming down his face.  He roared in anger and pain as vengeance
slowly filled his body, giving him the strength to lurch to his feet.
Pain assaulted him, but Genjuro staggered to the chair where he once sat,
numbly watching his family disappear in a rain of pain.  The gun lay on
the floor of the apartment.  Genjuro reached for it and grasped the
superheated metal and felt it burn into his hands.  He gripped it tighter
and screamed in pain and swore vengeance as the gun seared his flesh.
	The sound of the second rush of flames hit his ears and he stagger
backwards towards the kitchen in the rear of the apartment.  He made his
way to the small patio adjoining the dining room and slowly forced the
door open.  Genjuro cast one last look at his family, lying in fire and
blood and shed his last tears.  Revenge would be his, this he swore in his
heart.  As the hate and anger completely filled the void in his soul, he
staggered onto the patio, to the fire escape and into the night.
	




*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
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