Next chapter.  Judge for yourself.

Ranma and cast belong to Rumiko Takahashi.  This is a work by a fan for
fans.  Nothing more.

Like I say before all of the fics in this series.  This is DARK and if you
don't like reading stuff that's really DARK then move on.  This is labeled
DARK for a very good reason...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Simply the thing that I am shall make me live." 
-William Shakespeare (1564-1616)



	Akane looked at her clock and frowned.  Nabiki wasn't home yet.
She was ready to go to bed, and yet her sister hadn't come home.  Nobody
knew where she was going, only that she was going out for a bit and that
she seemed to be extremely happy about it.  That either meant she was
going to cut a deal or was going to collect on debts.  Either way, she
wasn't home yet and it'd been hours since she'd left.
	The sky was dark outside and things looked all wrong.  The stars
were still out, winking brightly and smiling down upon the city, but the
thick air of the night seemed to stifle life.  Akane looked outside for a
moment and sighed.  Nabiki could take care of herself.  If she were out
late, she had a good reason.  The youngest Tendo slipped under the covers
of her bed and settled in for the night.  As her eyes closed, the last of
her worries melted away, releasing her into the quiet sweetness of her
dreams.

	Nabiki painfully opened an eye.  It felt like she was dead.  At
least, she felt like she should have been dead.  Her stomach hurt and her
mind was reeling.  She rubbed her eyes in a daze.  As she moved her hand
and arms, she noticed that her hands were cuffed to a length of chain.  It
wasn't painfully tight, but she wasn't going to get free any time soon.
Nabiki stared into the complete darkness around her and slowly let the
memories of the past few hours seep into her brain.
	She'd been duped, drugged, and kidnapped as far as she could tell.
Nabiki hastily checked her clothes.  They were all there, not a stitch
ruffled.  At least she didn't feel like she'd been raped.  Aside from her
stomachache, she didn't really feel that bad.
	"I wonder where I am?" she muttered to herself.
	The light switch flipped on, blinding her temporarily.
	"You're awake," a familiar voice echoed across the room.  
	Nabiki blinked away the tears from the painful light and took a
look at her surroundings for the first time.  It was a fairly large room,
and completely devoid of any furnishings.  Four or five cars could easily
fit inside with a foot of room to spare at each wall.  It was just a bunch
of concrete walls and the hard stone floor.  Two stories above her, there
appeared to be a large balcony area, or an overhang reaching out about ten
or so feet.  Large chains and pulleys peppered the ceiling.  She looked at
her arms and found herself attached to a fairly large length of chain on
both arms by handcuffs.  The chains were bolted to the ground at a small
ring in the floor.  Nabiki peered about and noticed other rings in the
floor.
	Nabiki looked down towards the end of the spacious prison.
Genjuro stood by a giant raising door was at the other side.  Nabiki stood
still as he walked within a foot of her.
	"You're alive.  That's good.  I wasn't sure if you were allergic
to the stomach irritant that I put in your coffee.  I figured you weren't.
Guess I was right.  You look like hell though.  Maybe I used too much gas.
I was never good with those sorts of things, really," he remarked
offhandedly.
	"Who the hell are you?" Nabiki snapped, half in fear, half in
irritation.
	"I don't need to tell you anything really.  Just know that your
friend, Ranma Saotome and the old man are responsible for making me who I
am.  I plan on making him feel the same thing I felt when my family was
taken from me."
	Nabiki's eyes went wide in terror as he pulled a gun from his suit
coat. 
	"Are you-" she stammered.
	"No.  But I am going to use it when the time comes.  This is my
means to an end."
	"Why are you telling me this?"	
	"Because the information you gave me will either help me and keep
you alive, or it will prove detrimental to my plans and kill you.  The
choice is yours.  Think about it," he said evenly as he turned to walk
out.
	"Are you yakuza?" she asked fearfully.
	Genjuro stopped.
	"No.  Nothing remotely close to it.  Not anymore."
	"Are you going to hurt my family?  I'll tell you anything if you
promise to keep them out of this," Nabiki pleaded.
	Genjuro felt a sharp tug at his heart.  He could hear the same
desperation in Nabiki's voice that he had when he pleaded with the yakuza
to leave Ami and Yukiko out of their business.  Then he remembered who
started it all, the boy and the old man who ruined his life.
	"I won't promise you anything," Genjuro snapped coldly.  "This
path was set the minute those two ruined my life.  If your family is
involved with them, you best pray to whatever gods you believe in that
they don't come between me and my quarry."
	Nabiki stared at him as he left and slumped to the ground,
defeated.

	Shampoo leaned against the counter that led into the kitchen,
watching the customers eat.  It was a slow day, but she hadn't anticipated
it being this slow.  She'd thought about sneaking off to see Ranma, but
Cologne had chastised her about the last time she went out to "see Ranma"
without telling her.  Cologne disapproved of losing the passion spice, but
a lost cause was a lost cause.
	Shampoo sighed and hoped a customer would call and request a
delivery.  Surely that would give her an excuse to leave.
	"Shampoo, a customer is at the front!" Cologne said loudly,
snapping Shampoo out of her daydreaming.
	She bounded to the front of the Nekohanten with a menu in hand.
She looked over the well-dressed man in front of her, and guessed he was a
fairly affluent businessman.  His suit and the khaki collarless silk shirt
he wore looked sharp.  He had a fairly commanding air around him, almost
sad and sinister at the same time.  Shampoo shrugged it off.  She was an
Amazon and it was hardly appropriate for an Amazon to fear a man, and an
outsider no less.
	"Welcome to Nekohanten!"
	"Table for one please," the man replied quietly.
	Shampoo nodded and led him to a small booth in the corner of the
restaurant.
	"You eat here before?" she asked, having a slight feeling of dja
vu.
	The man nodded and gave her a small smile.
	"I'm new here and I'm just sticking to the places I know are
good."
	Shampoo beamed.
	"Nekohanten is best place for ramen in Nerima!"
	The man chuckled and nodded.  He waved away the menu and simply
ordered what he had when he visited the restaurant earlier.
	Genjuro watched Shampoo leave and come back within a few minutes
with the bowls of noodles and order of spring-rolls.  She whirled them to
a stop in front of him with a small flourish.
	"You do that with ease.  It must take a great deal of practice,"
he said.
	Shampoo smiled.
	"Great-grandmother teach Shampoo many things.  Make Shampoo good
at many things."
	"Really?  That's amazing."
	"Is not so hard."
	"I'll bet you're one of those martial artists I've heard about."
	"Shampoo is best in village back in China."
	"Really?"
	"Is true, but great-grandmother is best of best.  Even airen learn
from great-grandmother."
	"I'm fascinated."
	Shampoo took a seat across from the stranger who offered her some
of his food.  She politely declined.
	"So how long have you practiced martial arts?"
	"Practice very long time."
	"Wow.  I wish my daughter could learn something like that,"
Genjuro replied.  "Does your great-grandmother teach people?"
	Shampoo furrowed her brow.
	"Not know.  Great-grandmother not teach people but Shampoo.  Not
think so."
	"May I speak with her?"
	Shampoo nodded.  Why not? she thought to herself.  I wonder what
he wants.
	Genjuro was surprised to see an old woman pogo out of the kitchen
after Shampoo went in.
	"My great-granddaughter tells me you wish to speak to me about
martial arts."
	Genjuro nodded.
	"I hear you're the best martial artist in Nerima."
	Cologne chuckled.
	"If you heard that from Shampoo, I must apologize.  She can get
carried away at times," she replied.
	"Come now!  No need to be modest.  If you're that good, you should
say so."
	"Well," Cologne said thoughtfully, "I was quite good when I was
younger.  My old age limits me."
	"Really?  I would have thought that you would have gotten better
with old age.  Learn new things as you go on and that sort of thing,"
Genjuro said curiously.
	Cologne chuckled again.
	"You must have something in mind.  You never get such praise
unless someone wants something from you."
	"Well, my daughter recently had a run-in with some thugs on the
street," Genjuro replied, his eyes glazing over slightly.  He fought down
the urge to vomit at the memory of Yukiko's violated body.
	"Luckily she survived without much harm done to her.  She got
lucky," he continued quietly.  "I don't want to ever see her like that
again."
	Cologne nodded sagely.
	"Unfortunately, I do not take on students, young man," she
replied.  "I am sorry for what happened to your daughter, but I do not
take on students, simply to keep the style within the family as tradition.
I hope you understand."
	Genjuro nodded in return.
	"I can understand completely.  Would you be able to recommend any
other people that might be able to help?"
	Cologne thought for a moment.
	"You might try the Tendos or the Saotomes, preferably the Tendos.
They teach a style of martial arts that would work well for your daughter,
it seems.  My great-granddaughter is engaged to the heir to the school and
he is a fine man who may be able to help you."
	"What is his name?"
	"Ranma Saotome."
	Genjuro's eyes darkened a bit.  Cologne was quick to pick up on
it.
	"Is there something wrong?"
	"No," Genjuro quickly replied.  "Nothing at all.  The name simply
sounds familiar."
	"Do not confuse it with Genma Saotome.  The two are very different
people," Cologne replied evenly.
	"Is that style of martial art solely hand to hand combat?" Genjuro
asked, quickly changing the subject.
	"I suppose you could say that.  You would have to talk to the head
of each school to understand what they teach."
	"Thank you for your help," Genjuro replied with a nod.
	Cologne nodded and returned to the kitchen.  She had a feeling
that Genjuro was someone to keep an eye out for, but wasn't sure of
anything past that.

	Mousse woke to the sound of the back door to the kitchen being
opened.  There was a fairly loud crunching noise as something was jammed
into the lock and then the door being opened.  He flew out of bed in an
instant, knives at the ready.  He opened his door cautiously and looked
outside of his room.  
	Cologne looked back at him from the hallway, Shampoo behind him.
Cologne pointed at him, motioning for him to go down first.  Mousse sighed
inwardly and made his way downstairs, being careful to peek around the
corner of the stairs before moving anywhere.  He didn't see anyone, and
didn't hear anyone.  He walked down the stairs into the kitchen to see the
back door to the alley opened.  Mousse looked about the restaurant and the
kitchen, searching for the intruder.  He didn't see anyone.  He walked
back to the kitchen and called up the stairs to Cologne and Shampoo.
	"There's nobody in here," he shouted up the stairs in Chinese.
	Cologne and Shampoo walked down the stairs hesitantly.
	"I didn't see anyone here."
	"Are you sure Mousse?  Your eyesight is less than desirable,"
Shampoo said dryly in their native language.
	"I see nobody here.  I don't feel anything wrong either," Cologne
said quietly.  "Odd.  Very odd indeed."
	Mousse walked over to the door and shut it.  He looked at his hand
and noted some clear grease-like substance on his hand.  It was clear, and
odorless.  He quickly wiped his hand on his robe and went to the sick to
wash his hands.
	"What's wrong, Mousse?"
	"There was something on the knob."
	Cologne pogoed to the door, and peered at the knob intently.
	"I never would have noticed it there," she said dryly.  "Perhaps
we're dealing with someone much more clever than I anticipated."
	"I'm worried, great-grandmother."
	"I am as well.  Especially now that I'm feeling rather sick,"
Mousse noted with a sad smile as he sat down heavily at a seat by the
kitchen table.  Cologne frowned.  Touching the knob and then feeling ill
nearly immediately was definitely a warning.
	Shampoo looked over at Cologne as the Amazon matriarch studied
Mousse intently.  She didn't get much accomplished.  The sound of breaking
glass interrupted everything.  The last thing Shampoo saw of her
great-grandmother was the falling body and the remains of Cologne's head
spattered all over her nightgown.  It took less than the blink of an eye
for Cologne's head to burst like an overripe melon.
	There was nothing but shock written over Shampoo's face.  A choked
gurgling noise struggled out from Shampoo's throat.  The metallic tang of
blood filled her nostrils.  Her body shook, nearly convulsed, as her eyes
were locked on her great-grandmother's body on the ground.  Blood poured
out of the lower half of the remains of Cologne's head, running along the
floor like a sick floor-wax.
	It only took a second for the shock in Shampoo's heart to turn
into pure rage and hate.  She charged out of the back door of the
Nekohanten, looking skyward along the roof of the nearest buildings.
Shampoo didn't have much time to think about it.  She barely got out of
the door before feeling two small darts hit her in the abdomen, sending a
sharp pain through her.  She quickly ripped the puff-tailed darts from her
body and ducked behind a telephone pole.  It didn't do her much good.  She
could feel the effects of the toxin in the darts working in her system.
	A flash out of the corner of her eye, and the sound of footsteps
turned her attention to the fire escape from the building across the way.
A man in a completely black outfit stepped down from the ladder and walked
towards her.  He pulled his mask and visor off to reveal his face.  Before
Shampoo succumbed to the numbness in her body, she clutched the front of
his shirt and tried her best to claw his face.  He simply slapped her
hands away like one would slap at annoying mosquitoes in summer.
	"Silly girl," she heard him say before blacking out.
	


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

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