I first submitted this story back in October. It received some
favorable comments, and also some comments that caused this rewrite.
People asked why the Kunos and Gosunkugi were treated differently
from the rest. As I considered how to respond, I realized that,
although I had answers that seemed clear and valid to me, I'd have
to expand the story to really explain them. David Lerman (my thanks
to you) among other valuable comments noted that the story seemed to
have been written rather more than a year after the events it told of.
I had a reason for that too, but it occurred to me that increasing
the time span would provide the perfect way to slip in the extra
things I wanted to include.

    Anyway, here is the second version of the story. I'm very
interested in any C&C anyone would care to give, even flames. I
can't decide whether to use this version, or revert to the original.
There is much in here I like, but I worry that others may find the
added material boring, and simply belaboring themes already clearly
stablished in the shorter version. In particular, I worry that
expanding the story vitiates the impact I was trying for. I'd like
to hear your comments. Have I been too self-indulgent?

    In concluding, let me repeat part of my introduction from the
first version.

    There are a couple of things I should warn you about in this
story. First, a major character dies, although it's not really a
darkfic. There are passages of purple prose and soppy sentimentality
ahead. There are quotes from Shakespeare, Milton, and Lord Byron in
here, as well as annoying and pretentious references to various works
including "The Three Mulla-Mulgars" by Walter de la Mare and
"Lud-in-the-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees. And it has one of my
soon-to-be-trademark ambiguous endings.  If any of these present a
problem for you, consult medical advice before proceeding further.

    Finally, I imagine some of you will object that the tone and
the style of the narration seems out of character for the person
telling the story. In my defense I will make three points. First,
the story is being written five years after the events portrayed
herein, a time that has seen many changes in the narrator.  Second,
it is not unknown for someone to possess a more florid writing style
than that which he is accustomed to employ while speaking. I myself
have this selfsame quirk, and I was even worse in high school, a time
when I resembled the narrator to an uncomfortable degree. Finally, I
wanted to write the story this way, and this is the way the idea
originally came to me. So there.

    Praises be to the great Rumiko Takahashi.


                     Elegy for a Golden Youth

    As I sit down to write these words, it has been more than five
years since the events of which I shall tell. At the time, I would
never have thought of such a thing. The pain was too new, too fresh;
and what need could there be to write down a record of a time that
I could never forget? And yet the memories have begun to fade.
Even my fiancee has forgotten the strange happenings of that time,
happenings in which she was much more closely involved than I. From my
conversations with others I know that I am the last person left who
still remembers what occurred. I am writing this in the hope that it
may serve, in future, as a reminder of those days, should I also chance
to forget, and, in some measure, to fulfill Ranma's last command to me.
Between this tale, and the plan I have initiated, I can only trust that
somehow, wherever they are, they will know that someone remembers them.
Perhaps, as well, setting my observations down on paper will aid me in
the decision that lies before me.

    The school day had not yet begun at Furinkan High, and Ranma was
fighting Tatewaki Kuno again. Some of us wondered why Kuno kept on
pursuing his twin obsessions, despite all the evidence that neither of
them wanted him. It was often attributed to the dementia apparently
endemic to the Kuno family, and yet.... We should have known that was
too facile an explanation. Look at the way we had all been obsessed
with Akane. So many boys hurling themselves into futile combat, day
after day, seeking the affections of one who was clearly uninterested
in us, and unlikely, had we stopped to think on it, to look kindly on
those who sought to lay violent hands upon her. Of course, we didn't
stop to think. Instead, a legion of boys assaulted her, day after day,
until Ranma came.

    When Ranma came, everything changed. In a matter of days, the boys
stopped their recurring attacks. They said it was because they knew
they had no chance against Ranma, but those words rang rather hollow.
They had had no chance against Akane either, yet that had not stopped
them. I think it was rather that everyone recognized that, in Ranma,
Akane had finally met her match, in all senses of the word. I say
everyone, but of course, there were a few, more stubborn than the rest,
who persisted in yearning after her. One was Kuno. Another, I must
confess, was I myself. I cannot condemn Tatewaki, when I myself was
guilty of the same folly. Indeed, mine was greater. There was no chance
at all that I could ever defeat Ranma, no chance that I could ever do
anything to win Akane's regard, and in my more lucid moments I knew
that. Those moments, however, were rather rare. Ah well. If you didn't
know Akane, you'll never really understand. There was something about
her, some spark, impossible to define, and impossible to resist.

    That spark burned in Ranma too, and he had his full share of
admirers, both male and female; but his case was different. You could
admire him, you could be his friend, but you couldn't cross over into
his world. He seemed - unattainable, while Akane - we all knew Akane.
We had grown up with her. It was difficult for some of us to accept the
fact that, once she entered Ranma's orbit, she was lost to us, like a
photon crossing the event horizon of a black hole.

    But I digress. Ranma fought Kuno, and the fight ended as those
fights always did. Before the victorious Ranma could rejoin Akane and
enter the school, a voice came from the gateway into the schoolyard.
"Boy! You with the pigtail! What is your name?"

    Ranma turned. "I'm Ranma Saotome, if it's any of your business. Who
are you?"

    The speaker stepped forward from the shadow of the arch into the
sunlit yard. When we saw him clearly, we all fell back a pace or two.
He was of middling height, dressed in ornately embroidered Chinese
robes, a rather nondescript man, save for two features: his hair, which
was as red as fire; and his eyes, which WERE fire - he had no eyeballs,
just two holes in his face in which lurid flames danced and flickered.
I might have thought the waves of heat that seemed to pour off him
nothing more than illusion, until I saw the grass shriveling and dying
around him. His voice crackling, the stranger said, "I am one who has
come to challenge you, Ranma. That is all you need to know."

    Ranma too had stepped back at his first glimpse, but his
discomfiture was only momentary. "I don't know who the hell you are, or
what, but if you want a fight, you got it. I'll meet you after school;
you name the place."

    The stranger smiled. "No need for you to waste your time in the
classroom, my boy. You're going to need the rest of the time available
to you to put your affairs in order and say your good-byes. Don't
worry, I'll see to it that you're excused from school." With those
words, the stranger pursed his lips, then breathed out a huge ball of
fire that flew toward the school, barely missing Ranma as he grabbed
Akane and leaped aside, and smashed into the building. Instantly the
school fire alarms went off, and people scrambled to evacuate the
edifice, which was rapidly engulfed in flames. Fortunately, most of the
students, and teachers too for that matter, had been outside watching
the fight, so it seemed likely there would be few or no casualties.
Indeed, that later turned out to be the case.

    Those of us in the yard weren't worrying about that then. Our
eyes were glued to the laughing stranger who had so easily ignited
the conflagration. He stood, admiring his handiwork for a moment,
then looked at Ranma. "Meet me in the grassy field that lies in the
direction of the sunset. When the solar disk reaches its zenith, I will
be there to kill you. Let me warn you: if I have to hunt you down,
I will kill everyone in my path, everyone in this city if need be,
until you face me. Until then." His form shimmered, and changed, into
a vast, scaled, bat-winged apparition more than fifty feet long. I've
seen representations of dragons that made them look benevolent, or
comical, or simply ugly. Nothing I had ever seen had prepared me for
the terrifying sight before me. It was a great, winged predator, with
cruel claws digging deep gouges in the sidewalk and gleaming fangs,
and eyes agleam with a cold, inhuman intelligence. To a creature like
this, humans must be simply a lower life form, mere animals. If he took
our form, it was simply to mock us. The heat that emanated from him
increased tenfold, until it felt as if we were standing next to a blast
furnace. The dragon flapped its wings, and lifted into the sky.

    Everyone stared as the reptilian horror dwindled into the distance;
then, as one, all eyes swiveled to the pig-tailed boy in our midst.
Akane seemed the only one capable of speech. "Ranma, what was - was -
THAT about?"

    "I DON'T KNOW!" the harassed teen cried out. "I ain't never seen
anything like that in my life!"

    "What are we going to do?" Akane asked, her voice trembling
slightly.

    Ranma, his face as pale as hers, fought to master himself. The
sound of approaching sirens seemed to help him regain his focus. "First
thing, we gotta make sure everybody's out of the school. Then," he
paused, "I guess we better head to the Nekohanten."

    I could tell that Akane was upset when she made no reference at all
to Ranma's desire to see Shampoo. When the fire fighters arrived and
took over, the two of them ran off to the Chinese restaurant run by
Cologne, the Amazon matriarch. I followed after.

    Why did I go? I'm not sure I can answer that. I wasn't part of the
inner circle, not even as much as Tatewaki was. I had been involved a
handful of times, always with embarrassing results, and had even been
lunatic enough to challenge Ranma once; the outcome had been quite
painful, and yet Ranma afterwards accorded me more respect than he
ever had before. Everyone else in the class thought my attempt to use
the War Suit an act of complete idiocy, especially not reading the
fine print beforehand. In Ranma's eyes, the fact that I was willing to
put myself on the line to achieve my revenge gained me more stature
than almost anything else I could have done. Perhaps, then, it was an
unexpressed desire to live up in some fashion to the regard he had
shown me that prompted me. Perhaps it was simply idle curiosity. At all
events, I followed.

    By the time I got there, Ranma and Akane had already told Cologne
what happened. As there were no customers at this hour of the morning,
Shampoo and Mousse were listening as well, both obviously concerned.
The lines of worry engraved on Cologne's forehead stood out even on her
wrinkled face as she said, "You seemed to have attracted the notice
of one of the less benign dragons. The first thing we need to do,
son-in-law, is to determine which dragon has become your enemy. We may
then be able to learn why, and more importantly, how you may defend
yourself. Can either of you remember any more details that you haven't
told me? Perhaps the exact characters embroidered on his robes?"

    As Ranma and Akane both shook their heads, I raised a diffident
hand, perhaps forgetting for a moment that I wasn't in class. "I
recognized some of them, Cologne, uh, ma'am."

    Cologne's eyes fixed on me, as she asked sharply, "And who are you,
young man?"

    Before I could speak, Ranma interjected, "That's Hikaru Gosunkugi.
He's in our class. What's up, Gos?"

    I cleared my throat and said again, "I recognized some of the
signs. I've, ah, studied magic for a while," I didn't see any need to
mention my singular lack of success, "and I've encountered them before.
Others were at least similar to some that I know."

    "Then tell me everything you recall of them."

    After I had complied, she frowned. "From what I remember, that
should be the Dragon of the Valley of Twilight. He's very powerful,
but has little to do with humanity. He's not actively hostile, but
not at all sympathetic either. I seem to recollect that he does leave
his valley every few centuries to kill a selected enemy, but I can't
imagine why he would have chosen you."

    Ranma's brow furrowed as he said, "I don't know. It's probably
Pop's fault somehow. I'll have to beat it out of him. So's there any
way to fight this thing? I ain't felt heat like that except when I
fought Saffron, and there at least I had the Gekkajan to protect me.
Man, I could really -" his voice broke off as he caught sight of the
horror spreading across Cologne's features. "What is it?"

    "Ancestors, no! Let me be wrong about this," she groaned, in a tone
freighted with dread, and hurried from the room, leaving us staring at
each other in confusion.

    After a few moments, Shampoo scampered over to Ranma and threw
herself into his lap. "Don't worry, airen. Great- grandmother find
answer," she said with false cheerfulness, as if she were trying to
convince herself. "And Shampoo fight with you."

    A muscle in Akane's cheek twitched, but it was Mousse who reacted
first "No, Shampoo!" he cried, springing to his feet. "You can't.
You'll be killed!"

    Shampoo gazed back at him coldly. "Shampoo Amazon warrior, not
child. Amazon not hide under bed when husband in danger."

    Before Mousse could find the words to respond, Ranma spoke up
somberly. "Go sit down, Shampoo. I don't need this right now."
Shampoo's face fell. I recalled that something of a rift had sprung up
after she and Ukyo had blown up Ranma and Akane's abortive wedding.
Obviously that rift had not yet healed. After Shampoo reluctantly
resumed her seat, Ranma continued, "He's right, Shampoo. You didn't
see this thing. Anybody gets hit by one of those fireballs is gonna be
dead. This thing wants me for some reason, but I ain't gonna let anyone
else get killed over this."

    Forgetting her pique, Akane said hotly, "You can't be serious. You
can't face something like this alone. You've got to have help."

    "Son-in-law is correct," Cologne broke in, coming back into the
room carrying a torn and dusty scroll. "He is the only one who stands
a chance." She sat down across the table from Ranma and looked at him
silently for a time, a variety of emotions warring on her countenance.
Finally she said sadly, "I'm sorry, Ranma. My foolishness has brought
this danger upon you."

    "What do you mean?"

    She dropped her gaze to the table, unable to meet his eyes any
longer. "I never heard the full story of your fight against Saffron,"
she began obliquely. "You mentioned using the Gekkajan against Saffron,
opposing his heat with its cold. Did you at any time use the power of
the other staff, the Kinjakan?"

    "Yeah," he said slowly. "I had it for a while until Kiima used the
Akaneniichuan to disguise herself and stole it back. Why?"

    "And were you at any time exposed to the water of Jusendo, before
it had reached the springs at Jusenkyo," she persisted.

    Ranma paused, and replied, "Yeah. After I beat Saffron, I smashed
the Dragon Tap so I could use the water to cure Akane, and both of us
got wet."

    Cologne closed her eyes wearily. "That explains it. Do you remember
the Full-Body Cat Tongue?" she asked.

    "I ain't likely to forget," he snorted. "You fixed me so I couldn't
change back, 'cause I couldn't stand any amount of heat ... at all,"
his voice trailed off.

    "Yes. To cure it, I eventually let you have the Phoenix Pill, which
increased your ability to withstand heat. That is the core of the
problem," she said quietly. "It was prophesied long ago that someone
who had taken the Phoenix Pill would kill the Dragon of the Valley of
Twilight. Only such a person, in whom the power of the Pill had come to
full fruition, could possibly survive the Dragon's fire long enough to
kill him."

    "But that's nuts!" Ranma protested. "I almost got fried fighting
Saffron."

    "That's because the Pill had not achieved full potency," she
responded drearily. "The one who takes it must be exposed to the water
of Jusendo, and the powers of the Kinjakan and Gekkajan. After that,
the full power of the Phoenix Pill will begin to manifest itself.
Eventually, you would become immune to the greatest extremes of heat
and cold, and even be able to wield them to some degree. It is similar,
according to this scroll, to the process by which the original Lord
Saffron gained his powers. Unfortunately, it seems the Dragon can sense
when someone in the world begins to receive the power, and emerges
from his valley to kill such a one before he or she can present a
challenge."

    "But I never even heard of this Dragon," Ranma demurred. "I never
would have run into him if he'd just left me alone."

    "The Dragon is apparently not willing to take that chance." Cologne
sighed. "The whereabouts of the two staffs has been unknown to the
Amazons for centuries. It never even occurred to me that there might be
a problem with giving you the Pill."

    Ranma waved a hand impatiently. "That don't matter now. How can I
fight this thing? Will the Pill protect me?"

    "It should provide you some protection, at least from the damage
the fire may inflict, although it will still cause you pain - perhaps
great pain," she warned. "You will need to try to keep the Dragon in
human form - his power is lessened."

    "How am I supposed to do that?"

    The old woman managed to smile slightly. "I think you can guess
when I tell you that, in dragon form, his power is so great that he
cannot help giving off tremendous amounts of heat."

    "Of course," Ranma said, smacking the table. "The Hiryu shoten-ha!"

    Cologne nodded. "Indeed. The technique even received its name from
the fact that it was developed to fight dragons."

    "Will that stop him?"

    "Unlikely," Cologne said with a grimace. "Against a lesser dragon,
perhaps. But your opponent will almost certainly survive, though it
should force him to remain human for the duration, or you would be able
to kill him."

    Ranma bit his lip. "Do I have to kill him? I mean, if I beat him,
and let him live, wouldn't he agree to leave me alone?"

    "I doubt it," Cologne said flatly. "If you proved yourself better,
he would be more determined than ever to kill and eat you, to secure
himself against the chance that you might change your mind in the
future."

    "EAT him?" Akane said, her voice rising to a squeak.

    Cologne nodded grimly. "Most dragons do not particularly relish
human flesh, but the scroll mentions that humans who have taken the
Phoenix Pill are considered something of a delicacy. Additionally, the
Dragon likes to make sure that there is no chance of anyone escaping
and coming back later on."

    Akane and Shampoo looked horrified, and even Mousse had a sick
expression. Although he had come to Nerima as an implacable enemy, I
knew that over the ensuing months, especially since the fight against
this Saffron, he and Ranma had become almost friends. "Is there nothing
we can do?" he asked.

    "No. Ranma is the only one with the chance to survive even the
first encounter. If you attempted to interfere, your weapons would be
puddles of molten metal in seconds, as the fury of the Dragon's fire
incinerated your flesh and charred your very bones."

    Ranma clasped his hands together as they rested on the tabletop
and fixed his eyes on them. "What other good news you got for me? I
remember Prince Herb was descended from a dragon. Is that what I got to
fight, somebody like Herb who can breathe fire? If that's the case I
might as well make out my will right now."

    Cologne scanned the ancient scroll, pondering the fading writing.
"There are few accounts of a fight with this Dragon, since he has
always won, and always devoured the loser. Do not forget that Herb was
the human descendant of a transformed dragon, who had inherited some of
the draconic abilities. The Dragon of the Valley of Twilight is a true
dragon, who can assume a human form at will. When he has chosen for
some reason to fight in human guise, he does not appear to be a very
skilled fighter. Presumably he has never seen the need to learn. As a
human, he possesses enormous strength and stamina, perhaps on the order
of Lime of the Musk Dynasty. His speed would appear to be somewhat
inferior to yours, so you have that advantage. Finally, if all else
fails, he will attempt to simply snuff out your life force."

    "I don't get it. You mean some kind of ki attack?"

    "Not as you know it." Cologne hesitated. "Accounts are unclear, but
it seems that it involves a technique known as 'reflective resonance.'
You attempt to synchronize with the flow of your opponent's ki, setting
up a devastatingly destructive feedback. This is my best guess, at any
rate."

    Ranma closed his eyes and considered this. "But if the guy you were
fighting managed to match your ki first, wouldn't that hit you with the
feedback?"

    "Yes, if your opponent figures out what's you're doing and is
sufficiently versed in manipulating his ki. Since the Dragon has the
experience of thousands of years behind him, and, being nonhuman,
presumably possesses a ki flow pattern unlike anything his opponents
might have encountered, he always wins."

    "And I'm supposed to have a chance at this?"

    "I don't know. Your curse may aid you here. Since you are
physically both male and female, you are at least potentially balanced
between yin and yang. If you can accept your dual nature, and work with
it, you could present the Dragon with a situation unlike anything he
has faced before. That is the best hope I can offer you."

    "Just what I need, pop psychology," Ranma groused. "'Accept your
feminine side.' What's next, finding the child within? And how am I
supposed to accept my curse? Put makeup on half my face? Get engaged to
a couple of guys to balance things out? Gahh!" He stood up. "Thanks,
Cologne. Maybe it'll help. I only got a couple of hours, and there are
some people I need to talk to. It'd probably be smarter to stay away,
but if you guys want to see it, I'll be in the park west of the school
at noon. I gotta go talk to Ucchan, and then see my mom. Might not get
another chance."

    Akane stood up also. "You talk as if you expect to lose. Did you
leave your ego at home this morning?" she said, in an attempt at
lightness.

    He shrugged. "You saw that thing. He could gobble up Taro's monster
form and still have room to snack on me for dessert. I ain't giving
up, but I gotta tell you," he paused, and stared into the distance, "I
gotta bad feeling about this. I'm still alive because I'm damn good,
and because I'm lucky. Except where women are concerned. Well, I think
maybe my luck just ran out. Come on, let's go."

    I watched as the two walked out of the restaurant. Shampoo watched
them go, with an expression of naked longing on her face so poignant I
was forced to look away.

    "Great-grandmother," she said softly, her voice barely rising above
a whisper, "is there chance?"

    The aged matriarch said nothing; her desolate expression was
enough. At that moment she seemed every year of her century and more.
I wondered how often she had been forced to watch her children and
grandchildren precede her into death. I remembered something my mother
had said, on the only occasion when she had ever spoken of the daughter
who had died before I was born. "There is nothing in this world worse,"
she had told me, "than a parent having to watch her child die." Looking
at Cologne, I understood that, whatever Ranma had been to her when she
came here, he was a son to her now.

    Seeing the look on her ancestor's face, Shampoo bowed her head.
Her dark locks fell forward to shroud her features, but did nothing
to obscure the tears that splashed soundlessly on the table. For the
first time I could see the resemblance between the two Amazon women,
who differed in so many ways. Mousse sat between them, bearing silent
witness to their grief.

    Realizing that I was intruding, I rose to go. Cologne looked up and
said quietly, "Thank you for your help, boy. Your observations have at
least given him a chance."

    I bowed to her, moved by a blend of respect and pity. "I can only
hope it'll be enough." As I said it, I knew, with some slight surprise,
that I meant every word. Even if I had still regarded Ranma as my
enemy, I could not have wished upon him the fate that seemed to lie in
store. I walked out into the bright sunshine.

    It seemed strange that the rest of the world was following its
daily course, completely unheeding of the events transpiring in our
little corner of Tokyo. I walked slowly down the sidewalk, watching the
people bustling along. None of them knew that in a couple of hours, a
boy would be fighting for his very life against a creature out of myth.
I felt caught in a dream, or a nightmare. I wanted to shout at them,
"Don't you know what's going to happen? Somebody we know is very likely
going to die! Don't you care?"

    Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered that much to them. Perhaps
they would have said, "People die every day. Sometimes it's tragic,
sometimes not. There's nothing we can do about it." Old Mr. Fujiwara
there across the street. He'd lost his wife and two of his children
before I was born. What was the death of a boy he scarcely knew to him,
who had already lost so much?

    I shook my head. It mattered to me. No one I had ever known,
personally, had died. Academically, I knew it would happen one day,
but I was ill prepared to face the reality of death. I strolled along
aimlessly, trying to come to grips with it, trying to decide what to
do. I knew that there was nothing I could do to affect the outcome of
the coming confrontation. Logically, I should go home and stay out of
harm's way. If my parents had heard of the fire at the school, they
would be worried about me. Somehow, though, I just couldn't do it.
I felt the need to be there. Was it simply ghoulish curiosity, and
nothing more? I hoped not.

    After wandering the streets for some time, I stopped at a telephone
and called my mother to reassure her. I told her that I would be
studying at the library for a time, and she accepted it. Evidently she
had not heard any of the more outre details of the fire. I hung up the
phone with a twinge of guilt; I didn't like lying to her, but I didn't
think the truth would be very helpful in this case. I walked over to
the park to wait for noon.

    I sat on a bench and thought about Ranma. I remembered the first
time I saw him, and how jealous I was of him. I remembered my attempts
to find out his weakness. I remembered trying to compete with Ranma at
playing Romeo, and the incident with the paper dolls. I remembered all
the stories I had heard about Ranma's adventures. Some of them had been
hard to credit at the time, but after what I had seen today, I could
believe almost anything.

    I thought about all the conversations at school I'd listened to,
and taken part in, about Ranma and his fiancees. The boys envied him;
the girls admired him; both blamed him for his treatment of Akane.
To our minds, Akane was his rightful fiancee; Ranma was either too
indecisive, or too much of a playboy, to make the obvious choice. The
way Shampoo pursued him was shameless, all because of some ridiculous
custom; the girl was certainly no better than she should be. Even Ukyo
came in for her share of criticism. The way she dressed, the way she
had sought Ranma for ten years - the poor girl should have gotten over
her juvenile crush long ago. As for Kodachi - well! Did anything really
need to be said about the inappropriateness of her behavior? Thus went
the consensus at Furinkan High.

    The scene at the restaurant was forcing me to rethink some of the
things I "knew." That expression on Shampoo's face - she truly loved
Ranma, and she was truly suffering now. I tried to imagine myself in
Ranma's position. If a beautiful girl like Shampoo, or Ukyo, looked at
me like that, what would I have done? I snorted. I'd have done whatever
she wanted me to. If I were in Ranma's position, I'd have done a worse
job than he did. Then I sighed. It would be nice to have just one girl
looking at me like that.

    I sat there, lost in thought, for some time. Finally, I looked up,
to see people gathering in a large open field not far from me. I stood
up, and walked over to join them.

    Ranma was there, with Akane, Ukyo, and Shampoo clustered around
him. He was talking to his father, and a sad-looking woman I guessed
to be his mother, from the marked resemblance to Ranma's female form.
I bit my lip indecisively. I didn't want to intrude, but I didn't know
most of the people here very well. Glancing around, I spied Ryoga
Hibiki conversing with Mousse and Konatsu, and a pretty girl I didn't
recognize. Miss Hinako must have encountered some delinquents, for she
was in her fully adult form, though uncharacteristically subdued, as
she clung to Soun Tendo's arm while he stood with Kasumi and Nabiki.
Dr. Tofu stood silently a small distance off, his hands in his pockets,
not far from Cologne, who was talking quietly to Happosai. I approached
the good doctor hesitantly, but it seemed the gravity of the situation
was helping him keep himself under control.

    He glanced up and said soberly, "Hello, Hikaru. Unable to stay
away?"

    I nodded. "I saw the - thing - at the school. Somehow I just felt I
- well - had to see. I don't really know why."

    "I understand." He said nothing more.

    As I waited, I looked at the quiet conversations going on around
us. Finally, I said, "I recognize most of the people here, but who is
the girl with Ryoga? And is that Ranma's mother?"

    Never taking his eyes off Kasumi, Dr. Tofu replied, "The girl is
Akari Unryu, Ryoga's girlfriend. I understand she and Akane have become
friends, and Akane had previously invited her to stay with the Tendos'
for a few days. She hasn't brought her sumo pig Katsunishiki, I see
- probably a wise decision, since it's possible the Dragon would be
unable to resist eating him. That is indeed Mrs. Saotome with Ranma."
He shook his head. "She's only had a few weeks to get to know him."

    I looked with some interest at Ranma's mother. I'd heard some
stories about her, and the odd promise Ranma and his father had made.
At the time, it had simply seemed part and parcel of Ranma's strange
life. Now, I saw her with new eyes. I saw the same grief on her face
that I had seen on Cologne's. Her son, her only child had been taken
from her when he was only three. She had missed seeing him grow up. His
triumphs and his failures, his sorrows and his joys: she hadn't been
there to share any of them. Soon, he might be taken from her again,
this time for good. I shook my head. Things had been a lot simpler
before today. I had known Ranma had problems, but those problems, and
Ranma himself, had seemed almost unreal to me, and to a lot of the
other students at Furinkan. They were a source of entertainment, more
than anything else. Now everything was much too real.

    "It was a lot easier when it all seemed like a game," I muttered. I
didn't realize I had spoken aloud until Dr. Tofu responded.

    "It always is. Eventually, no matter how charmed a life you may
lead, reality rears its ugly head, and things are never the same. All
part of growing up, I suppose," Dr. Tofu said quietly.

    I grimaced. I always hated that answer. It trivialized what you
were going through, what you were feeling, and reduced it to the level
of your friends' complaints about tests. It was probably true, but I
don't suppose that fact has ever endeared the observation to anyone.

    Apparently he noticed my expression, for the doctor grinned at me
sympathetically and said, "Sorry! I remember how much I hated it when
my parents said things like that to me."

    Suddenly, a shadow fell over us. I glanced up to the vast bulk of
the Dragon blotting out the sun. It seemed even larger than it had this
morning. Slowly it spiraled in until it came to earth some distance
from us. It settled down and folded its tail around its body like some
kind of unearthly cat and gazed at us dispassionately. "If you have
come to witness this boy's death, you may do so. If you have come to
join in his death, you may do that also. The choice is yours." I might
have expected some great booming voice from a creature that huge,
instead it seemed no louder than a winter wind blowing through the bare
trees, but much, much colder.

    Ranma stepped forward. "It's just me, Dragon. First, is there any
way to avoid this fight? I got nothing against you. I can swear I'll
never attack you or nothing."

    The Dragon laughed humorlessly. "You know little of the workings of
fate, child. Even I, with all my power, am nearly helpless against the
machinations of destiny. It is decreed that we shall fight, sooner or
later. I choose that it shall be now."

    "If that's the way it's gotta be," Ranma shrugged. Abruptly, he was
motion, running toward the Dragon so swiftly that he seemed a blur. If
he had hoped to catch the Dragon off guard, he failed, for it simply
breathed out a searing blast of flame at him. Ranma barely had time
to dodge to one side. The Dragon simply turned its head and breathed
again, forcing Ranma to continue running almost at a right angle to the
Dragon.

    "How can he even get close to the Dragon, when all it has to do is
breathe on him?" Once more I didn't even realize I had spoken aloud
until Cologne responded.

    "So far everything is going according to plan," the old woman said
calmly. "The Dragon is giving off a great deal of heat, and son-in-law
is running around him, slowly spiraling in. Soon he will be able to
strike."

    At that moment, Ranma stopped and threw a punch at the Dragon while
shouting some words I couldn't make out. I wondered for a second what
he was doing, since he was much too far away to hit his opponent, but
I got my answer almost immediately. A huge wind sprang up as a glowing
tornado formed around the startled Dragon. The roaring twister drowned
out anything the Dragon might have said as it hurled the great reptile
high into the sky.

    I knew Cologne had said the Dragon would probably survive, but at
the moment I couldn't see how that would be possible. Looking around, I
voiced a question that had occurred to me during the Dragon's initial
appearance. "Why aren't there huge crowds around us? I mean, we've
got a Dragon landing in a city park and a big fight ending in a giant
tornado - you'd think that would attract some attention."

    Dr. Tofu said dryly, "You'd be surprised how easy it is for people
to ignore events that don't fit into their personal views of the
world."

    "Even in Nerima? I mean, we've seen some pretty strange things here
recently."

    "Even in Nerima, son," the doctor said, a little sadly.

    Before I could ask him what he was talking about, a body came
tumbling from the sky and landed near Ranma, creating a large crater.
It was the Dragon, back in human form. The figure lay unmoving at the
bottom of the hole.

    "Is that it?" I asked.

    It wasn't. The man - the Dragon - stirred and rose to his feet
before climbing out of the crater. He looked at Ranma expressionlessly.
"I have heard of that technique, but never witnessed it. Impressive,
and spectacularly painful. Now there is no doubt that you must die."

    Without speaking, Ranma leaped at him, and the battle was joined.
I wish someone else could write of that fight. I didn't know enough
of martial arts to appreciate it, and both combatants were moving so
swiftly that I could barely grasp what was happening. It seemed that
Ranma was indeed faster, striking most of the blows, until the Dragon
must have caught him with a powerful punch, for suddenly Ranma was sent
flying backwards.

    He hit the ground hard, but jumped back into the fray immediately.
The Dragon had made good use of the opportunity, though, and caught him
with an immense blast of fire. Ranma screamed as the flames engulfed
him, but to my amazement he came leaping through apparently unharmed,
although most of his clothes were burned away. He hit the Dragon
full on the chin with a powerful kick that snapped his head back and
sent him staggering. The Dragon glared at him and snarled, "Time to
end this, boy!" Ranma's hands blurred toward the Dragon, who barely
managed to catch his wrists. Then, suddenly, the two just stood there,
unmoving.

    I blinked, and looked toward Cologne. "What's happening?"

    Her eyes remained fixed on them as she replied, "The Dragon is
attempting the 'reflective resonance' technique. We will know in a few
seconds if Ranma can master it swiftly enough to have a chance."

    I watched Ranma and the Dragon stand motionless as the seconds
ticked by. Presumably they were engaged in a life-or- death struggle,
but there was no evidence of it. Except - I noticed a low-pitched
humming noise on the very edge of audibility. I couldn't pinpoint it
at first, but as it rose in pitch, I noticed a faint glow appearing
around the two fighters. "Are that glow and that humming caused by what
they're doing, ma'am?"

    Cologne turned and looked at me, her eyebrows rising in surprise.
"You can actually see it, even without being attuned to sensing ki?
Amazing. The energy level must be even higher than I thought." Her
brows contracted as she added, "The die is definitely cast, now. At
this point, the discharge would kill at least one of them, even if they
tried to disengage."

    The glow grew brighter, and brighter still. Now something else was
happening. Ranma's figure began to flicker, as he started changing
spontaneously from male to female and back again. The period between
transformations grew shorter, until Ranma seemed to be caught in a
strobe light, even as the glow became almost too painful to bear.
Suddenly a flash of light brighter than the noontime sun left me trying
to blink away the afterimages burned into my retinas. When my vision
finally cleared, everyone was running toward a solitary figure lying
on the ground. When I got there, I found Ranma's fiancees kneeling by
him, tears streaming down their faces. Catching a glimpse of him, I
understood why. By some irony, cruel or kind, his face was untouched,
but below.... His legs were so badly burned they seemed mere lumps of
charcoal. The flesh on his chest had blackened and cracked to expose
his ribs. The smell of charred meat was so strong I nearly gagged. By
some miracle, he still breathed, though how his lungs could work I was
unable to imagine, and after a few moments he even managed to open his
eyes.

    "Ranma!"

    "Airen!"

    "Ran-chan! Are you -" Ukyo choked, unable to go on.

    "Am I what, Ucchan? Okay?" Ranma said with the ghost of a chuckle.
"Not so's you'd notice. I guess I'm in shock, which is good, because
when I start feeling again, I'll be dead in no time. Now listen up,
everybody, I ain't got much time. When I was linked with the Dragon, we
got real close. He learned a lot of stuff about me, and I got even more
from him. When he knew he was going to lose, he decided to go out with
a bang by letting his heart's fire go all at once. I had to stop him,
'cause it would have taken out a couple square miles of the city. Using
the Phoenix Pill, I was able to keep that from happening. Only problem
was, I had to absorb it all myself. I did learn a lot of stuff, though,
and I gotta tell somebody before it's too late. One thing first."

    His eyes shifted to me, a depth in them that I had never seen
before. "Hikaru."

    "Y-yes, Ranma."

    "Remember." That was all he said to me, but I thought I knew what
he meant.

    "I will," I promised him. At the time, I thought it would be hard
for me to do anything else.

    His eyes left me, and roamed the circle of faces around him. "I
should probably make some big speech, with something to say to each one
of you, but frankly, I ain't gonna live that long. I need to talk to a
few people alone now. Happosai, Cologne, Akane, Ucchan, Shampoo, Mom
and Dad, hang on a sec. The rest of you, all I can say is goodbye, and
thanks for being my friends."

    We left them alone, and stood a small distance off. I watched as he
talked to Cologne and an unusually subdued Happosai first. After a few
minutes, the two old martial artists left and walked back toward us.
When they approached, Ryoga asked, "What was it? What did he tell you?"

    Cologne didn't even look up as they passed us, but Happosai glanced
toward us long enough to say, "We're going to make preparations for
Ranma's funeral."

    I watched them go, chilled by his somber pronouncement. It wasn't
supposed to be this way, was it? Ranma had won. Things could go on the
way they always had, right? No. Nothing would ever be the same, I was
beginning to realize.

    Now Genma and Nodoka Saotome approached. Mr. Saotome held his
wife's arm to guide her as she stumbled along, for she was blinded by
the tears spilling down her face, though she made not a sound. His
face bore a stunned expression, and he seemed twenty years older than
before.

    I looked back to the girls kneeling around their fallen fiance,
in time to see Ukyo lean over and kiss Ranma's lips gently. Shampoo
followed suit, and finally Akane kissed him. They paused a moment,
their heads bowed, then stood up, and I knew that Ranma was dead.

    The three girls came toward us. I don't know what I expected - a
storm of tears, wailing, hysterics perhaps, anything but what I saw.
They walked in a line, Akane in the middle, flanked by Shampoo and
Ukyo, all wearing the same remote expression. Even when they stopped
and looked at us, I had the feeling none of them really saw us; all
their attention was focused elsewhere.

    "Ryoga, Mousse," Akane said quietly. "Please bring Ranma back to
the house." Turning to the rest of us, she said, "The funeral will be
held this evening at our house. You are all invited, of course. Hikaru,
perhaps you could invite the Kunos."

    I nodded numbly, and reflected on life's little ironies. Not long
ago the fact that Akane had spoken to me would have sent me into
transports of delight, but then, not long ago, I would have rejoiced at
the thought of Ranma's demise. Now, confronted by harsh reality, I felt
bereft and diminished.

    I left then, unable to bear the sight of the two boys about their
grisly work, and went home in a daze. I told my mother that I was going
to study at a classmate's house that evening, and left her pleased that
I was finally making friends. If only she knew, I remember thinking. I
sat at my desk, an open book before me, and stared blindly into space
the rest of the day. I can't tell you what I thought about; rather
I could, but it would take far more time and space than any of my
thoughts would merit. So passed the afternoon.

    As evening approached I roused myself for the trip to the Kunos. I
had put it off until the last moment because I was not looking forward
to it at all. It was as bad as I had feared. Tatewaki, although he
expressed his sorrow at his rival's end, could not contain his elation
at the thought that both his loves would now be free to return his
affection.

    "I must make haste to stand beside them, in this their hour of
need," he nobly declaimed. "Too long have I let concealment, like a
worm i' the bud, feed on my damask cheek. They must know that there is
one who waits to comfort them, who has long worshipped them from afar.
Now is the time to make clear the depths of my devotion!"

    I felt physically ill. Had I ever been that obsessed, that blind? I
hoped not, though I feared so.

    As for Kodachi....

    "You lie!" she hissed, tightening her grip upon my throat. "Ranma
is not dead! This is all some trick of those three sluts to keep him
for themselves! Ranma can't die!"

    I was feeling light-headed now from lack of air, but I managed to
croak out, "I was there. I saw it. If you go to the Tendos', you can
see for yourself!"

    She let go of me and I dropped to the floor with a painful thump.
I glared at them both as I got up. Normally I would never have had the
nerve to stand up to them, but I was really annoyed at their idiocy,
and still in shock from Ranma's death. "Listen to me, you two! We're
going to a funeral now, and you'd better behave. However you felt about
Ranma, whether you loved him or hated him, he meant a lot to the people
there. Kuno, if you're fool enough to start hitting on Akane at the
funeral of her fiance, you deserve whatever happens to you, and I can
guarantee it won't be pretty. Kodachi, you'd better watch yourself
around those three. They all loved Ranma in their ways, and I don't
think they'll take too kindly to any of your nonsense."

    When I realized what I had said, I cringed, expecting to be in
severe pain at any moment. For some reason, though the Kuno siblings
both gazed at me in utter astonishment, they said nothing more, but
went and got ready. I stood in the hallway and waited for them,
marveling at the fact that I was still alive, without even any broken
bones. When they finally returned, garbed in suitable attire, we set
off.

    Tatewaki strode ahead, doubtless rehearsing the speeches he would
make to woo his darlings. At least he spared us a preview. Kodachi and
I trailed along behind in silence. After a time, she said to me, "Is it
really true?"

    I nodded somberly.

    She walked a little further. "We only ever went on one date," she
said forlornly. "I knew he didn't love me, but I always hoped that
one day...." She looked at me. "I'm not really a bad person, am I? He
could have come to love me in time, couldn't he?" she asked, her voice
breaking.

    My hesitation was only momentary. "Yes, I think he could have." And
the sun might rise in the west tomorrow, I thought. I didn't say it,
though. In her own confused way, she had loved Ranma, too. She would be
in enough pain this evening, without my adding to it. The fact that it
kept me from suffering any more pain also figured into my discretion.

    We arrived at the Tendos' house just as the sun began to set, and
were ushered into the backyard by Kasumi. There I was surprised to see
Ranma's body laid out on a pyre built of fragrant woods sprinkled with
various type of incense. The aroma was powerful without being cloying.
The same group that had witnessed Ranma's death was present here, all
standing quietly together gazing at the body. Akane, Shampoo, and Ukyo
stood together near the pyre bearing burning torches.

    I looked around uneasily. This was an ill-assorted group for
anything as serious as a funeral. Some here had loved Ranma; some
had tried to kill him. None of them had been immune to his strange
fascination. Yet all stood together, with the same air of muted sorrow
and something else - a feeling of waiting, almost - expectation.

    When Tatewaki caught sight of Akane, he headed straight for her.
"Akane," he began.

    He got no farther, for the three girls raised their eyes and looked
at him, a look such as I hope never to see directed at me. It stopped
his oratory in mid-word, and brought him to a standstill. It was not
a look of anger, or reproof. It was more the way a scientist might
examine a mildly interesting though rather ugly new species of beetle.

    "Please go stand with the others," Akane told him calmly, in a
voice so devoid of expression I felt a chill just hearing it. Kuno
flinched visibly, and complied. Twice today his self-absorption had
been pierced, I thought. I wondered if that had ever happened before.

    Akane turned her gaze to Kodachi, but it was a warmer, more
sympathetic one. "Kodachi, you may join us if you will," she said,
holding out a torch. As one in a dream, Kodachi walked slowly to the
pyre and looked down on Ranma's face. She reached out a hand and
touched his cheek once, her hand visibly trembling, then turned and
took the torch from Akane. The four girls stood round the body, one on
each side of the pyre, and waited.

    I found myself standing next to Dr. Tofu again. I murmured, "Is
this actually legal? I mean, are they really going to cremate him right
here?" The whole scene was so bizarre, and everyone was treating it so
matter-of-factly.

    Dr. Tofu glanced at me and said with an air of calm assurance, "Oh,
yes. It's what Ranma wanted."

    I blinked. That was his answer?

    "No one will interfere tonight," he continued, "and in a few days
it won't matter anyway." He gave no explanation for this interesting
statement, and I did not get a chance to inquire further.

    Nodoka Saotome stepped forward, and gazed at us all silently as the
setting sun dyed the sky in brilliant tints of crimson and gold. Her
face was pale but composed as she said, "Someone once wrote, 'Heaven
gives it favorites - early death.' I don't know if my son was one of
heaven's favorites. I do know he died as he would have wished," her
voice faltered, then continued, "though far sooner than all of us would
have wanted. Don't grieve for him too much."

    Her voice strengthened as she went on, "As the poet said,
'Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
 Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
 Dispraise, or blame,--nothing but well and fair,
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble.'

    "Remember Ranma, until the turning wheel of fate brings us all
together again." She bowed her head, and Akane nodded to the other
torchbearers. They held out their torches, and lit the pyre before
stepping back a few paces.

    I assumed we would all leave then, since the fire would burn for
quite some time, but everyone remained where they were. I found out why
when the pyre flared up all at once in a massive conflagration. I could
only wonder if they had doused it with gasoline or something, and also
why none of the neighbors were calling the fire department. In a few
short minutes, to my amazement, the fire had completely burned itself
out. The wood had apparently burned completely up, leaving nothing
behind. The only thing left where the pyre had stood was a small heap
of white ashes where the body had been. I couldn't understand what was
happening. I knew that any normal cremation left bits and pieces of
bone and such. Any fire intense enough to render a body to ashes as
quickly as that should have set fire to the Tendos' house. Certainly we
would have been unable to get anywhere near it. Yet I had felt no more
than a momentary wash of heat such as you might get from opening an
oven briefly. I looked around. Didn't anyone else find this as strange
as I did?

    Kuno appeared stunned, apparently still reeling from the look
Ranma's fiancees had given him. Kodachi didn't seem to see anything
for the tears filling her eyes. Everyone else bore the same look of
abstraction I had noticed on the girls earlier that day. I shivered
involuntarily, and wondered what I had gotten myself into.

    Akane, Shampoo, and Ukyo pulled out tiny whiskbrooms and swept up
all the ashes into a small urn, which Akane then presented to Mrs.
Saotome with a bow.

    The three girls now approached us, still with that strange, remote
expression. "The ceremony is over," Akane said quietly. "Thank you for
coming." Then she paused, and the three looked at Kuno. It was not
quite the same withering stare they had bent upon him earlier, but I
still noticed beads of sweat breaking out on his brow as they held his
gaze for a time, before they somehow released him, and he literally
staggered back a few paces.

    "Time for you to go," Shampoo said coolly. "You not ready - Shampoo
think never be ready." Kuno turned and wordlessly departed, visibly
shaken.

    Next the three girls looked at Kodachi. She stared back bravely,
but I noticed her fingers beginning to tremble. After a longer period
of time, Ukyo said, almost sadly, "Time for you to go, also, Kodachi.
You don't know yourself well enough. Seek your own peace." The younger
Kuno hesitated a moment before leaving, a troubled expression on her
fair features.

    Finally, as I had expected, the three looked at me. Immediately, I
understood why the Kunos had had such difficulties. Their gaze seemed
to go right through me, searching out the hidden parts of my heart.
My fears, my hopes, my fond dreams and my petty jealousies, all were
revealed, it seemed, to those piercing eyes. I remembered a great
many things, including much that I had tried to forget. How long it
lasted I cannot say. After a moment or a year, the intensity of their
regard slackened, and Akane said to me compassionately, "Time to go,
Hikaru. A sacrifice is pointless if you don't understand what you may
be sacrificing."

    I felt a strong compulsion to depart, but resisted. Everyone was
acting so oddly. I wanted to find out what was happening. "Akane, tell
me something. What's going on? The way you three looked at us. The
things you said. The way that fire burned.... And no one here is acting
much like a mourner. You all seem more distracted than anything else,
as if you were waiting for something. What am I missing?"

    Akane looked at me for some moments; then her mouth twisted
in an odd smile as she said,
"Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
 As I foretold you, were all spirits and
 Are melted into air, into thin air:
 And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
 The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
 Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
 Leave not a rack behind.
 We are such stuff
 As dreams are made on, and our little life
 Is rounded with a sleep."

    I looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand."

    Her smile turned sad as she said to me, "Perhaps you will in time.
Now please excuse me, there are many things left to do. Goodbye,
Hikaru." I could resist no longer. I went home, puzzling over the
things I had seen, and mourning, in my own way, the death of Ranma
Saotome.

    That was the last time I saw Akane Tendo. Two days later, I heard
that her father had sold the house and the dojo, taking quite a beating
since he insisted on an immediate sale. The reason for the haste became
apparent when it was found that the Tendos and the Saotomes had moved
out, and disappeared, no one knew where. Nor were they the only ones.
It was soon learned that Cologne, Shampoo, and Mousse had shut down the
Nekohanten and gone. Ucchan's was closed as well, and Ukyo and Konatsu
were not to be found; neither were Dr. Tofu and Miss Hinako. I don't
know whether Ryoga and Akari left as well, or Happosai, but certainly
no one has seen them, or any of the others, in Nerima since that day.

    Astonishing events certainly, and I would have thought they would
have been the talk of Nerima for many months afterward. Indeed, at
first they were. I noticed as the days wore on, however, that gradually
people talked about Ranma and the others less and less. When I would
mention Ranma or Akane to one of my classmates, he or she would look at
me in confusion for a few seconds before the metaphoric light went on.
As time passed, that blank look lasted longer and longer. After a few
months, people began complimenting me on the amusing stories I made up
about our mythical former classmates. Soon, I stopped speaking about
anything related to Ranma or the Tendos to anyone but the Kunos.

    Yes, I was spending a fair amount of time with the Kunos. I was
the only one willing to put up with Tatewaki's lamentations for Akane
and the pig-tailed girl, and Kodachi's wild ramblings on the wonderful
life she would have with Ranma when she found him again. I found it
a relief to find two people who remembered things the way I did.
Eventually, even this refuge failed me. Their father had moved back
home, a much changed man. He still wore Hawaiian shirts, but he had
lost his obsession with haircuts, and actually seemed like a fairly
pleasant man. His children's behavior began to moderate as well. By the
time a year had elapsed, Tatewaki was dating Mariko Konjo, now simply a
cheerleader with no martial arts training, and was generally the most
admired boy at school. He was much less pompous, and a good friend.

    Kodachi - well, somehow I ended up dating Kodachi. I'm not sure
how it happened - the best answer I can come up with is that as the
Kunos forgot about Ranma, they needed some explanation for the time
I'd been spending at their house. Somehow, it was decided, (how I have
not a clue), that I'd been over there so much because I cherished a
secret passion for Kodachi, a passion that she eventually came to
return. Needless to say, this came as something of a surprise to me.
I'd been rather afraid of Kodachi before, but now - well, she was quite
beautiful, and there was a sad, lonely, somewhat bewildered air to her
now that pulled at me. She knew that something was missing from her
life; she just didn't know what. I seemed to help fill part of the void
she was dimly conscious of. In short, she needed me, and I'd never
been needed before. It didn't take long before I fell in love with
her. I was worried for a time that she'd tire of me as she adjusted
to her changed circumstances, but if anything our relationship only
grew stronger, to the point where we got officially engaged upon our
graduation from high school.

    We went off to the same college together, and we've generally been
very happy. It was somewhat stressful at times - her temper tended to
be rather volatile, and she was subject occasionally to some alarming
mood swings. At first, whenever we had a fight, I would still worry
that this time would be the last, that this time she would leave me.
When she realized this, it incensed her even more, and eventually I
came to understand, with my heart as well as my head, that she truly
cared for me, and that, whatever the basis of our relationship, it was
solid enough to withstand the normal difficulties and upsets that came
our way.

    By this time I was the only one who remembered anything of Ranma,
Akane and the others. Sometimes I wondered if I had dreamed it all, it
seemed so improbable. Still, when I needed convincing, all I had to do
was look at my photo albums, and the pictures I had taken that year.
They appeared to be the only hard evidence left. By trading shamelessly
on my relationship with the principal's daughter I had managed to get
in to check the school records, and found that there was no information
about Ranma, Ukyo, or any of the Tendos. I rather imagine that if I
could have gained access to government files the result would have
been the same. I remember wondering what would happen if I were to go
over to China in an attempt to find Jusenkyo, or the village of the
Joketsuzoku. Would I find nothing there at all, not even myths? Or
perhaps would I find a simple, ordinary village, with more women on
the local council than usual, and a small resort nearby famed locally
for the healing properties of its water? I supposed it didn't really
matter. All in all, I thought the whole business over and done with. As
time passed, however, I noticed some things that concerned me.

    Kodachi, for one. If I'd ever thought about what Kodachi Kuno
would study in college for instance, I might have guessed chemistry,
or perhaps botany. Instead, she took up art. She dabbled briefly
in several different media before settling on painting. She was
certainly talented, but her choice of subjects bothered me somewhat.
She specialized in the still life - fruit and flowers in a bowl, that
sort of thing. There was always at least one rose present, with large,
dangerous thorns dripping blood. The paintings became more and more
outre as time went on.

    I recall one day in our second year, when Kodachi showed me
her latest work. Menacing roses twined about a glass bowl, their
dagger-like thorns leaving scarlet trails on the clear surface.
The fruit within the bowl glowed in unearthly hues: emerald green
raspberries; bright crimson grapes; and stranger objects with shapes
and colors unlike anything in my experience. As I studied it, I noticed
that a new element had been added. In the background, sketched in so
faintly in the shadows as to almost escape notice, was the figure of a
spectral horse.

    Gazing raptly at the painting, Kodachi asked my opinion.

    "It's beautiful," I replied honestly. "Your technique is
wonderful."

    She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "But?" she said. "You seem
to have something more to say."

    I grimaced. She was getting to know me too well. "Well - I've been
wondering - why are the roses dripping blood? Why is the fruit so
strange? Where did the horse come from? Is this the way you see things,
or is there some symbolism I'm missing?"

    She looked surprised. "As for the flowers and the fruit, I just
like the way they look. When most people paint a still life, they
portray the stillness, but they fail to convey the sense of life. I try
to show that even these humble things are teeming with life."

    Teeming with life - yes, she conveyed that all right. Those roses
in particular seemed to be writhing madly before my eyes. "What about
the horse?"

    As she turned her attention back to the painting, her face softened
with a look of - yearning? "Horses symbolize so many things, don't
they? The ocean, life, the male principle.... The shadow of a horse
could also stand for just the opposite." She looked at me and smiled
winsomely. "And I've always liked horses. My mother used to take me
horseback riding, sometimes, before she died." Her smile drooped
slightly. "I guess, after she died, that it reminded too much of her,
so I stopped."

    A pang of remorse ran through me at her expression. I'd mostly
overcome my fear that she'd leave me anytime something went wrong, but
I just couldn't bear seeing her unhappy. "Perhaps we could go riding
sometime. I've never been, but," I said, putting on my best foolishly
optimistic look, "it's probably not much different from riding a bike,
right?"

    As I'd hoped, her expression cleared, and she even laughed aloud.
"I'm sure you'll have no trouble at all," she said impishly. Then,
still smiling, she put her hand to my cheek and said softly, "Thank
you, Hikaru. I'd like that very much." The surge of joy that rushed
through me overwhelmed my fear that I might have gotten in over my
head.

    I generally try to forget our first few times at the riding
academy. I didn't fall off - too much - but I was sore all over for
weeks, and frankly I didn't see the appeal. Give me a bicycle any time;
it'll do what you want it to without any coaxing. Kodachi, though - she
took to the saddle as if she'd never been away. Even when I finally got
the hang of it, she could ride circles around me, and did - literally.
I didn't mind, nor did I mind the aches and pains when I saw how happy
it made her. I nearly changed my mind, though, the first time we stayed
out on the trail late in the afternoon.

    We were riding along together, talking inconsequentially of the
doings of the day, when Kodachi looked up and saw the western sky
mantled in scarlet. She gasped and sat rigid for a moment, then spurred
her horse and rode madly off toward the setting sun. I gaped at her
for a few seconds, then rode in pursuit. I endeavored to keep her in
sight, but I might as well have tried to outrun the oncoming night. I
finally caught up with her at the fence marking the western edge of the
academy's property. She was staring at the darkening sky with a look
of such heartbreak that at first I was unable to speak. We sat side
by side, the panting of our horses the only sound breaking the eerie
stillness that sometimes envelops you at the end of the day.

    Finally, I managed to say, "What's wrong?" My voice sounded so loud
and jarring that I winced, but Kodachi didn't react at all.

    I thought at first that she hadn't heard me, until she said, in a
voice so low I had to strain to hear her, "I don't know. When I saw the
sunset, it seemed that there was some place I needed to be, something I
needed to find, and it was the most important thing in the world."

    "Riding towards something, eh? That's a relief, I guess. For a
little while I thought you were just riding away from me as fast as
you could." I had intended the words as a joke, and was startled to
realize the genuine hurt that underlay them. Even now, the expression
on her face tore at me. The sorrow, the neediness - there was something
seriously wrong, something I had been oblivious to.

    She turned and looked over at me, surprised and concerned. I had
obviously revealed more of my feelings than I'd intended. "I'm sorry,
Hikaru. I didn't mean to upset you. I wasn't even thinking. Believe
me," she said, taking my hand, "the last thing I want to do is lose
you. Then I really would have nothing," she concluded bleakly.

    I returned some fairly innocuous answer, and we rode back together.
After that, we generally made sure to end our rides before dusk; for
some reason, it was only on horseback that she heard the sunset's siren
call. I worried about it, of course, but what bothered me most was
her statement to me afterwards. Why should someone with all Kodachi
had feel that she had nothing? I considered talking to her father to
get her some counseling, but in the end I did nothing. Even then I
suspected that no ordinary therapy would get at the root of Kodachi's
problem.

    I might not have made quite so much of Kodachi's behavior, had it
not been for what was happening to me. After we'd been at college for
a while, I began having strange dreams; at least, I believed that to
be the case. Now and again, I woke up of a morning, shaking with fear
and longing, yet remembering nothing of the vision that had left me
with those feelings. I placed pencil and paper on my bedside table at
one point, hoping to be able to jot down something before the details
faded completely from my slowly waking mind. The experiment was not an
unqualified success. At first, I got nothing but illegible scribbling
for my pains. After several weeks, I awoke one morning to find the
following paragraph written down.

    "I saw Tishnar again last night. I was crossing the Mountains of
Arakkaboa, when I found myself pursued by Immanala, even Immanala
and her nine-and-ninety hunting dogs sought me across the shadows. I
fled from them, hearing always behind me the harp of Noomanossi, the
Third Sleep. Thus did I run, in terror and despair, until, amidst the
eternal snows, I saw her, gliding across the ground, clothed in robes
of palest purple, her dainty feet shod in sandals of silver. She walked
on, her face downcast, pale locks shrouding her features, as I stood
transfixed, heedless of my pursuers. Then she stopped, and my heart
beat strongly, strangely, within my breast, as slowly she began to
raise her head. I trembled lest I should meet her gaze. I trembled lest
I should not. The stars in their courses stood still as her eyes met
mine - and then I awoke."

    Evocative, perhaps, but not terribly informative, though it does
recall the timeless instant when I gazed into Akane's eyes after
Ranma's funeral. Still, it didn't tell me what disturbed my slumber
that night, and all the others. I tried one other time, and ended
up with a sheet of paper with three words written on it, over and
over: "Duke Aubrey returns." After that, I abandoned the attempt, and
eventually, the dreams became less frequent, to the point that I have
not had my sleep thus disturbed in five months.

    I asked Kodachi once if she had had any odd dreams; at least,
that was my intent; I actually said something like, "Did you sleep
all right last night?" Unfortunately we were in the cafeteria at the
time, my question was overheard and immediately misconstrued, Tatewaki
heard about it and began threatening me with grievous bodily harm for
defiling his sister, and so on. By the time everything was cleared up,
I had firmly resolved never to bring up the subject of sleep or any
activities that might take place during or in the stead of sleep until
we were safely married.

    Things eventually settled down. As I said, my dreams became less
frequent. Kodachi gradually lost interest in riding - we still went
out, but only once a month or so. Her paintings changed too over time.
She still specialized in still lifes, but they came to look much more
normal. The roses stopped dripping blood, and the shadowy horses faded
away as well. I would have been somewhat more reassured if it hadn't
been for one remaining oddity: in each picture, there was always at
least one element left out or distorted. A table might be missing a
leg. The perspective might be strangely skewed. Kodachi herself seemed
all right, if perhaps a little more subdued than I was accustomed to.
I didn't worry about it too much - I had to consider the decision that
lay before me as we approached graduation.

    After some vacillation, I had chosen to study foreign languages.
I seemed to possess a certain aptitude; indeed, I became quite fluent
in both Chinese and English. I found the study of other languages
fascinating, especially trying to understand the differing cultures and
world-views associated with them. As well, it was gratifying to find
something I was good at - no, something that I excelled at; for the
first time I really came to understand something of the way Ranma and
the others had felt about the martial arts.

    Although I enjoyed my studies for their own sake, with the
encouragement of my instructors I began to consider my prospects for
future employment based on the abilities and knowledge I had acquired.
As I pondered my situation while we were back home for the break before
beginning our final year, Kodachi's father asked to speak to me.

    He greeted me in his study, and spent some time showing me his
collection of Hawaiian souvenirs and artifacts while I made polite
noises. After asking me to sit down, he began genially, "It's kind of
you to humor an old man, Hikaru, my boy. I didn't really ask you here
to bore you to tears with my little hobby. No, no," he said, holding up
a hand to cut off my pro forma protests, "it shows your heart's in the
right place. I'm glad to see you and Kodachi are getting along well;
she withdrew into herself after her mother died, and you've managed to
bring her out. Still, if you're planning to marry after you graduate,
you need to consider how you're going to support her. From what she
tells me, you're doing very well in your language studies. Now, though
I wouldn't call our family wealthy, we do have a certain amount of
influence in some of the companies we invest in, enough to help get you
a job with one of their foreign subsidiaries, if you like."

    I flushed slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Kuno. Kodachi mentioned that
she thought you might be willing to do that. I really appreciate the
offer, and I'll give it serious consideration. I should mention that I
also have an offer from one of my professors to help me get a job with
the government, in the Foreign Service."

    He looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Interesting. Well, it's always
a good idea to have more than one string to your bow. I can see that
my daughter's future is in good hands. Please, let me know if there's
anything I can to do to help."

    So there was my decision. A job in industry, or a career in public
service. One would pay better, certainly, with greater opportunities
for advancement. The other, perhaps the chance to do some good, with
more travel likely to be involved. I talked it over with Kodachi, but
she wasn't much help.

    "Which would you rather do?" she asked, turning my question back
upon me as she frowned at the canvas she was working on. She'd cleared
her collection of plants out of the sunroom for use as a studio.

    I shifted a bit on the stool I was sitting on as I watched her
paint. "I don't know. The one would mean more money. I might not be
able to keep you in the style to which you've become accustomed," I
said, managing a slight smile, "but I could come close."

    "Hikaru!" she said, transferring her frown to me. "I don't want
you worrying about that. As long as we have enough to get by, I'll
be content. If we're going to quote cliches here, I'll just say that
money can't buy happiness. And no one knows that better than I," she
concluded with a melancholy air.

    Her unusual docility slightly unnerved me. "Well, it's just that
there's a good chance we might end up living abroad for a while. I'm
worried about you, cut off from your family and friends, not speaking
the language. It's a lot to ask."

    Kodachi shrugged. "'Whither thou goest, I will go,'" she said
softly. "I'll miss my family, but I've never really had any friends
to speak of. Although," she put down her brush as her eyes seemed to
focus on sights far beyond the confines of the room, "I have vague
recollections of friends I had once, people who meant a great deal to
me."

    I stared at my fiancee, my mouth dry. When I had regained control
of my voice, I croaked out, "What do you remember about them?"

    "Nothing really," she said, in a distant voice. "Impressions more
than anything else. I think they must have been some imaginary friends
of mine from the period after my mother died. It's silly, I know,"
she apologized, coming back to earth, "missing people who never even
existed."

    "Not so silly as you might think," I muttered.

    "At any rate," she continued, "you don't have to make up your mind
immediately. My family's well off, and they could certainly support us
for a while. We could even wait until," her voice faltered, and she
blushed, "after our honeymoon."

    I blinked. Smiling, I got up and put my arms around her. "I'm not
sure that's a good idea," I said gravely. "If I don't have a job to get
back to, I might never want to come back from that honeymoon."

    She smiled up at me, and what happened after that is none of your
business.

    Kodachi's words stuck with me, though. As our last year wore on,
I found myself prey to a growing dissatisfaction, none the less real
for being rather nebulous. All I knew was that it was connected somehow
with Ranma and the others, and our old high school days. Finally, I did
something I hadn't done for nearly a year. I pulled out my old photo
albums.

    Up to this point I had thought I was immune to the strange
forgetfulness that had affected everyone else. Now, however, as I
looked through my photo albums, I found that I couldn't clearly
remember the circumstances under which I had taken some of the pictures
of Ranma and Akane. In addition, there were empty spaces in the album,
where some photos had apparently been removed, by what or whom I could
not guess. I found it difficult to recall the details of some of the
adventures I had only heard about, and even the ones I had witnessed
seemed to take on an aura of unreality in my memory. I didn't know what
was happening, or what it meant, but for the first time, I feared I
wouldn't be able to keep my promise to Ranma. It might seem odd to you,
that I should worry so much about a one word command issued by a dying
boy; all I can tell you is that, somehow, with that one word, Ranma
had changed my life. Whatever I have, I feel I owe in some measure to
him, and I would do almost anything rather than default on the task he
charged me with. Therefore, after much thought, I evolved a plan.

    I wrote to a certain manga creator I admired, and told her the
outlines of the story of Ranma, describing it as a dream I once had.
She agreed to consider a manga based on the ideas I mentioned to
her. I asked for nothing in return, simply saying that I felt an odd
compulsion to see this story in print. I have given her as much of the
history of Ranma and the others as I can recall. Perhaps seeing the
tales of those days in print will help keep them fresh in my mind. If
not, I can only hope Ranma and Akane, wherever they are, will know that
Hikaru Gosunkugi did his best to remember them, and to ensure that
their story was not lost.

    As I think back over the times that are gone, I wonder a little
at the sadness that fills me. I'm happier now, in my 'normal' life.
Kodachi and Tatewaki are happier too, I think. Even so - there was
something in those days, some tang or savor, which is missing now.
Maybe it's just part of growing up. (Maybe using phrases like "it's
part of growing up" is a sign you're growing up.) The years of your
childhood are usually golden in retrospect, right?

    No, it's more than that. Ranma's coming had changed my view of the
world forever. When the rain begins to fall, and there is no longer
any chance that the person you pass on the street will become a panda,
or a cat, or anything but wet, the whole world is diminished, a more
lackluster and ordinary place, whether it knows it or not. With Ranma
died much of the world's mystery for me.

    Back then, I knew magic, real magic. Those were days of miracles
and wonders, and I didn't realize it. I didn't appreciate it. Now they
were gone. Did anyone else feel that loss? I did. Kodachi missed them,
without even knowing what it was she missed.

    And yet, if I could have those days again, would I? Even if the
price was all that I have gained? For some things have become clearer
in my mind, as my memories have dimmed. I think I understand what Akane
was trying to tell me. There is a price. There is always a price.

    Why do I worry so much about it? The past is gone, after all. The
moving finger writes, and all that. Perhaps. I don't think that's the
end of the story, though.

    When I think back upon those final days, I can't help wondering
about one thing. Ranma had taken the Phoenix Pill, and before he died
it had come to full potency. Was it just a coincidence that they burned
his body on the sort of pyre that - no, it sounds mad even thinking
it. Yet I remember that Akane and the rest bore up under their grief
very well. Could it be -? I don't know, and perhaps I never shall. But
it may be possible to find out, if I dare, if I've pieced the clues
together properly.

    I ponder these things as I stand atop a small hill on the campus,
beside a large fir tree, looking out over the town as the sky slowly
darkens to a deep, velvety blue, and the lights below come on one by
one. Standing there, I hear a voice behind me.

    "So this is where I find you! You'd rather stand here gawking at
the sky than spend time with a beautiful but lonely woman! Now I see
how you really feel about me!"

    Turning, I see Kodachi, as regal and imperious as ever she had been
in her "Black Rose" days. I cringe as I recall, too late, that I had
promised to meet her - gods, half an hour ago! "Uh, sweetheart, I'm so
sorry, you see..."

    She breaks down giggling, unable to maintain her haughty demeanor
any longer. "Hikaru, you should see your face!"

    I grin sheepishly. "Well, I really am sorry. I was just standing
here, lost in thought, and I didn't realize how late it was getting."

    "What are you thinking so hard about," she says, slipping her arm
through mine. "Trying to decide what you're going to do when you grow
up?"

    "Hmm? Not exactly. Or at least, not just that." I hesitate. I need
to talk to her about this, but how can I do it, when she wouldn't even
understand what I was referring to?

    "When we talk about leaving school," I finally say, "we say we're
going out into the real world. That one out there," waving my hand
toward the lights below us. "If you think about it, though, that's not
really the real world, any more than school is. They're both a part of
it, sure, but the world is a lot bigger place than that. On the other
hand, isn't that necessarily true for anybody? Everybody has to choose
a world to live in, and it's all those worlds together, plus many more,
that make up the 'real world.' Is this making any sense, or am I just
babbling?"

    "And you wonder what world you should choose," she says quietly.

    "It's not just me," I say. "This choice affects you too. Do I
have the right to make that choice for you? Not even knowing what the
outcome might be?"

    We stand together in silence for a few minutes. I look over at her,
and see that she has turned slightly to gaze at the sunset. Finally she
says, "You have that right because I've given it to you."

    Still watching as the reds and oranges deepened to purples, she
goes on, "All we know of the world is what our imperfect senses tell
us. None of us can really know the world in any other way. I think the
thing to do is to choose the world where you can be happy."

    "And what about you?"

    She glances back at me, and smiles. "I'll be happy if you're there,
no matter where we are."

    I feel a tightness in my chest as those words drive my dilemma
cruelly home. Will I be there? Will she?

    "Two roads diverged into a wood," I murmur. Three, really, but two
of those paths are basically the same. The third... take that path, and
who knew what would become of us? Or what we would become? I sigh as
I think of what was happening to me, of what has happened to Kodachi
over the last couple of years. What would become of us if we took the
more traveled paths? Time doesn't stand still. There are no answers, no
guarantees, but then, there never are, for anyone.

    I remember what Akane said. I know now, Akane. I know what I could
be sacrificing. Do I have the right to make this decision by myself,
for both Kodachi and me? If I do nothing, though, I'm still making the
decision.

    As the last arc of the sun descends below the horizon, its rays
briefly illumine some far off object, which shines back for a moment
with a silver flash as the twilight envelops us.

    I wonder if Kodachi would like to honeymoon in China. Say, the
Qinghai province.

                           The End

Reid Carson
rcarson@mnsinc.com