All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless

=========================
                      RELENTLESS
                A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction

                   By Grayson Towler
 =========================

-----------------------------------------------------------
                      CHAPTER ONE:
                         (first half)
                       The Master
-----------------------------------------------------------

It was a typical day in Nerima, and though Saotome Ranma would 
probably not have admitted it to anyone, he was loving every 
minute of it. 

"Husband eat lunch that Shampoo make, yes?"

This was a familiar ritual for Ranma.  While he was never one 
to pass up a free lunch (especially now, what with Ucchan out 
of town during the last few weeks of summer vacation), Shampoo 
would occasionally mix a little something extra into her creations.  
Ranma had gotten pretty good at reading Shampoo, and right now he 
guessed she was trying to slip him one of her love potions or 
something. Still, he thought he might be able to score some good 
eats this time anyway, if he played it right.

Ranma turned away from the purple-haired Amazon on the delivery 
bicycle, his face composed into a mask of longing and regret.  
"I... I wish I could, Shampoo."

Shampoo's eyes went wide.  "R... Ranma?"

Ranma cast his eyes downwards, sighing heavily.  "But I know, 
Shampoo, that sometimes you try to put... stuff in my food.  Mind 
control potions, love potions, weird herbs..."

Shampoo grinned in what she thought was a disingenuous fashion and 
flapped a hand, as if to wave his concerns aside.  "Oh no, Husband, 
Shampoo never do such thing!"

"I'd like to think so, Shampoo."  Ranma allowed a fleeting look 
of hope to cross his features, then looked downcast again.  
"Because you know, the most important thing to me in a relationship... 
is trust.  If I can't trust someone, well..." he shrugged, letting 
the implication hang.

Shampoo's eyes went dreamy.  <A relationship!> Birds in the park 
spontaneously burst into song, flowers turned her way as if searching 
for the sun.  The Amazon girl was weak in the knees.

"All right, Shampoo," Ranma said, figuring that he had her in 
the right frame of mind now.  He reached slowly for the take-out 
box.  "I'll eat the lunch.  If I can't trust you, how can we have 
anything together?"

Shampoo snapped out of her reverie in a flash and whisked the 
lunchbox out of Ranma's grasp just before he took it.  "Ha ha ha 
ha!  Shampoo so silly!  She get lunches mixed up!"  She reached 
back and plucked another take-out box from the carrying basket on 
her bike.  "There!  This is lunch made special for Husband!"

Ranma grinned cheerfully and took the box from Shampoo.  "Thanks, 
Shampoo!  Man, this smells good!"

Shampoo would have been content to simply stare dreamily as Ranma 
stuffed his face with (undrugged) ramen noodles.  She was firmly 
of the belief - as many of the girls in Nerima seemed to be - that 
the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.  Familiar visions 
of her future with Ranma were already dancing through her mind, 
when all was interrupted by an unwelcome shout of rage.

"Saotome Ranma!  That's my lunch!"

Ranma stepped deftly aside, avoiding the spray of knives which 
usually accompanied the arrival of Mousse.  "Yo, Mousse.  What's 
cookin'?"

The long-haired Amazon boy landed beside the two, his fists clenched 
with rage.  "How dare you, Ranma!  First you try to steal the heart 
of my beloved Shampoo, and now you steal my lunch as well?!"

Ranma gestured towards the box originally meant for him on Shampoo's 
bike.  "Why dontcha just have that one?"

Shampoo gulped in terror, then jerked the box away from Mousse.  
"No, stupid Mousse!  This for... this one for customer!"  She would 
rather die than have Mousse eat the potion she'd put into THAT 
meal...

Mousse barely noticed all this.  His attention was fixed on his 
hated foe.  "Ranma... this time, I'll show you no mercy!"

Ranma shrugged and set his lunchbox down, dropping into a fighting 
stance.  "Ready when you are, Mousse old goose."

"Don't you mock me!"  Mousse was working himself up into a good 
lather.  "I have developed a technique even you can't hope to 
overcome!  Prepare to face... the Pinions of the Raging Kingfisher!"

With that Mousse threw his arms wide.  Suddenly, knives and spikes 
erupted from beneath his robes and his hair in every direction, 
flaring out across his body until he was almost obscured beneath 
the mass of keen steel.  Bristling with gleaming weapons, Mousse 
advanced on Ranma, laughing contemptuously.  

"I am like the Kingfisher, who fluffs out his feathers when faced 
with a foe to become larger and more intimidating.  But, as you 
can see, each one of my 'feathers' has a razor edge!  How can 
you fight what you don't dare hit, Ranma?  Ha ha ha!"

<Not bad, not bad,> Ranma thought.  Against a normal opponent, 
it would certainly be a terrifying technique.  But Ranma was no 
normal opponent, of course.  The most expedient way to deal 
with this would be with some ki-attacks, but Ranma was the sort 
who would never play an ace when a deuce would suffice.  

He dodged a couple of swipes from the charging Mousse.  The 
biggest drawback to this technique was that Mousse's mobility 
was severely limited by all the weapons sticking out of his body.  
Typical Mousse - an exceptional fighter in a lot of ways, but 
not a champion thinker.

"Hey, Mousse, I understand that ya like to name all your 
techniques after birds and stuff, but I think you're gonna have 
to bite the bullet and call this one the Porcupine, y'know?"  

Swipe, swish.  Mousse advanced clumsily on Ranma, lacerating 
the air with a hundred blades but never coming close to his 
foe.  "Shut up and fight!"

"Or maybe the Hedgehog?"

"Grrr!"  Swipe, swish, swipe.

"Hey, I know!  The Puffer Fish!"  

"Hold still, damn you!"  Mousse charged Ranma in a blind rage, 
intending to give his enemy a bear hug he'd never survive.  

Ranma, anticipating this every step of the way, took a gentle 
hop backwards and then bounced upwards off the trunk of the tree 
he'd been backing towards.  He cleared the steel-covered 
Mousse with ease, watching as the enraged boy charged underneath 
him.  Ker-CHUNK!  Mousse was embedded in the thick wood.  

Mousse would not let himself be trapped for long.  He detached 
the weapons on his front side which had pinned him to the trunk, 
then whirled to face his opponent.  "Where are you, Saotome!?"

Ranma swung down from a tree branch, planting a foot squarely in 
Mousse's exposed midsection.  "An opening," he announced casually.  
The kick lifted Mousse off his feet and sent him sprawling backwards 
to the ground.  Countless blades and spines buried themselves in 
the soft earth, supporting Mousse like an inverted bed of nails.  
Mousse struggled to try to free himself, but he was completely 
suspended in the air by his arsenal and didn't have a scrap of 
leverage.  He was effectively trapped.

"Shampoo!" he cried.  "Help me!  I've fallen, and I can't get up!"

Shampoo rolled her eyes and sniffed in disdain.  "Stupid Mousse.  So 
stupid."

Ranma bounded past Shampoo, whisking the lunchbox from the back of her 
bicycle on his way.  "Thanks for the lunch, Shampoo!  Later!"

"Ranma!  Uh, you take wrong lunch!"

He looked back.  The startled expression on the Amazon's face 
confirmed what he'd suspected - that she had switched the take-out 
boxes once again during the fight.  Ranma came to a halt for a 
moment on a rooftop, opened his lunchbox and took big bite of the 
ramen noodles within.  Shampoo glared, disappointed and angry.  

"Great as always!" he shouted, polishing off the noodles before he 
bounded away.  Ah, the sweet, familiar taste of victory.  Life was 
good.

As he approached the Tendou Dojo, hoping that his glutton of a father 
hadn't done in all the leftovers this early in the afternoon, a sudden 
intuition made him pull up short.  Was he... being watched?  It 
happened often enough, to be sure, and he was pretty good at spotting 
it by now.  It wasn't something that got him especially worried, 
but he always liked to know who was keeping an eye on him.

No, it was gone.  Either he'd been imagining it or the observer had 
split.  

Ranma shrugged and carried on his way.  If there was really 
something to be worried about, he'd find out soon enough.  Right 
now there were leftovers to be scavenged.  The young martial artist 
cleared the Dojo wall with a deft leap, heading towards the promise 
of more food with hardly a care in the world.

- - - - - - 

<He's good,> the old man thought.  <He just about spotted me, even 
now.  But he's always been good.>

This would have to be convincing if it was going to work.  Ranma 
seemed to have a brain like a bowl of pudding sometimes, but it 
wouldn't pay to underestimate him here.  Certainly, there was nobody 
else on whom he could pull this particular stunt and expect to get 
away with it.  Soun and Genma were far too pitiful, and even he 
couldn't bring himself to do this to Akane.  It would have to be 
Ranma, and he would have to sell this act to even the sharpest and 
most cynical of observers.

What he was about to do would sting his pride for a bit, but when it 
came to a choice between pride and survival, there was no question 
about which road Happosai would choose.

<All right, Ranma m'boy.  Time to play your part.> 

- - - - - - 

Ranma was so busy trying to stuff as much squid jerky into his 
mouth as physics would allow that he almost didn't catch the 
flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.  Something 
small, something dark... from the size of the blur which he had 
barely glimpsed, it was either Ryouga the Wonder Pig or that 
perverted old goat sneaking around.  Ranma took a moment to 
chew and swallow, then hopped soundlessly out the door and up 
onto the dojo roof. 

If it were Ryouga, he was probably just lost and trying to find 
his way around, but if it were the old freak, then he'd be up 
to one thing.  Ranma crept his way over until he was positioned 
above the window to Akane's room, then waited out of sight, 
listening.

He had to admit that the geezer could be damned sneaky when 
he put his mind to it.  He didn't hear a sound from inside the 
room, and was almost ready to give up when he finally heard the 
whisper of the window being opened by small, quiet hands.  Knowing 
Happosai's patterns as he did, he figured the old pervert's next 
move would be to hop to the tree, then to the wall, and then off 
once more to his demented rounds.  He allowed himself a small smile, 
took a stab at guessing the timing, then reached out over the side 
of the roof with blinding speed and snatched.

Perfect guess!  He was really on the money today, no question about 
it.  He came up with Happosai's bag of ill-gotten goodies in hand, 
plucked so deftly from the lecher's grasp that he took a couple 
of seconds to notice they were gone.  "H... hey?" came the querulous 
voice.  "My silky treasures!  Where did they go?"

Judging that the time was right, Ranma reached down with the other 
hand and plucked up the tiny old martial artist by the back of the 
shirt.  He grinned, dangling the bag of purloined panties out of 
Happosai's extremely limited reach.   "You lookin' for these, old 
man?"

"Ranma!" the lecher sounded startled and angry.  "How dare you!  
Those are mine!"  He scrabbled uselessly in the air for the bag.

"Now what've I told you about sneakin' around into the girls' rooms 
here, ya old pervert?"

"That's no way to talk to your Master!" Happosai snapped, still 
struggling vainly to get a hold of the bag.

"You ain't MY master, gramps."  

Happosai stopped struggling, twisting to glare angrily at the boy 
who held him in this humiliating position.  "Ranma, you let go of 
me now and give me back my panties!"

Ranma was underwhelmed.  "Give it up, ya old goat.  You ain't gettin' 
these back."  With that he stepped lightly off the edge of the roof.  
As he descended, he tossed the bag of panties back in through the 
window, then flipped the glass pane closed in a single deft movement.  
He landed on the soft grass, still holding Happosai like a puppy 
by the scruff of the neck, and looked smug.

"Hey!" came the shout from above.  Ranma looked up to see Akane 
opening her window.  She was wearing a cross expression and a pair 
of panties on her head.  <Oops... she must'a just come in the room.  
Nice timing.>

"What's the big idea hitting me in the face with a bag of panties!?" 
she shouted indignantly.

"I was just returnin' what this old goat stole!" Ranma protested, 
flashing her a winning smile.  "You oughta thank me, ya know."

Akane "hmmphed," her face conveying distinctly that she'd rather 
gag than thank Ranma for throwing a bag of underwear in her face.  
She seemed not to notice that she still had a pair of striped pink 
underwear on her head.

"Love the hat, Akane!" Ranma shouted.  He couldn't help himself.

Akane blushed and scrabbled for her head.  Ranma began to laugh, 
but he was brought up short by a distinct sensation of heat coming 
from his hand.  He looked back at the old man, and was a little 
surprised to see that his battle aura was beginning to shimmer to 
life.  

"Hey, gramps..."

"Ranma," growled Happosai with unmistakable menace.  "How dare 
you deprive an old man of his one joy in life?  How dare you 
treat your Master with such disrespect?"

Happosai's battle aura was a force to be reckoned with.  Ranma 
dropped the old man before he burned his hand.  <Geez, it's one 
of those times!>  Most of the time, Happosai would take his 
punishment when he was caught and go on his way, but every so 
often the old guy took it all personally.  There was no telling 
when the lecher would get all angry like this, but when he did, 
it always spelled trouble.  Ranma backed off into a defensive 
stance.

"Cool down, gramps.  You're gonna give yourself a rupture or 
somethin'."

It wasn't the right thing to say.  

The old man's aura flared. While Happosai usually looked like 
some sort of pitiful lab failure, when the fighting spirit was 
upon him he was a terrifying sight to behold.  He appeared to 
grow in stature, menace radiating from his every pore.  The 
expression he wore as he glared at Ranma was filled with wrath.  
"Time to teach you some respect, boy..."

Then came the inevitable interruption.  Tendou Soun and Saotome Genma 
were suddenly in the yard, prostrating themselves before Happosai in 
a most pathetic fashion.  "Oh please, Master!  Please, I beg you!" 
they whined.

"What do you two want?" Happosai snarled.  "If you're trying to beg 
for mercy for that snot-nosed punk..."

"Who're you callin' snot-nosed?" Ranma snapped.

"No Master!" Soun wailed.  "But have mercy on my poor dojo!  Please 
don't fight here!"

Ranma rolled his eyes.  The way these two turned to quivering 
jelly every time the old goat gave them so much as a mean look was 
pitiful to behold.  "C'mon, gramps.  We don't got all day, y'know."

<Oh yes, my boy,> the old man thought.  <I know that all too well.>

- - - - - -  

Any time Ranma squared off against a foe in one of the vacant lots 
around Nerima, it was sure to draw a crowd.  Happosai had been 
keen to get the fight started as quickly as possible - no long delays 
or formal challenges this time - but the word-of-mouth network around 
Nerima was effective enough to draw forth a fair-sized crowd even on 
such short notice.  Nabiki and her crew took the bets, and the 
onlookers gathered at a respectful distance to watch what would 
surely be a fine spectacle.

Akane approached Ranma, clutching P-Chan nervously.  "Ranma, be 
careful.  He seems really angry this time..."

"Ah, don't worry Akane," Ranma said confidently.  "That old geezer 
ain't so tough.  I've taken him out before, I'll do it again. You'll 
see."

"Don't underestimate him, Ranma!" Why did he always have to be so 
arrogant?  Couldn't he see how dangerous Happosai was when he was 
like this?

"Ranma," Happosai announced.  "This fight is for real, you understand?  
I don't want you thinking you can get out of this by turning into 
a girl or throwing some underwear this time."

Ranma shrugged.  "No problem, gramps.  You ready?"

Happosai answered by taking a mighty leap skywards.  "Face the 
terror of... HAPPO DAIKARI!"

With that, the old martial arts master launched a volley of fire 
bombs at Ranma, their short fuses hissing as they built up towards 
detonation.  With too many of them to catch and throw back, Ranma 
reacted by leaping directly into the spray, dodging the bombs as 
they came and letting them detonate behind them.  In mid-air, he 
closed the distance between himself and Happosai, launching into 
a flying kick as he dodged the last of the bombs.

<Not that easily, you don't,> Happosai thought.  He snagged 
Ranma's ankle in the crook of his pipe, whipping the young martial 
artist around his body in a single blinding arc and sending him 
hurtling to the ground below.  Ranma slammed into the turf, 
sending up a shower of grass and dirt.  Happosai landed, allowing 
Ranma a moment to struggle to his feet before he began his next 
assault.

"What's the matter, boy?  This old man too much for you?"

"I'm just gettin' warmed up!"  Ranma charged Happosai, who held 
his ground and waited.  

"So predictable," the old man lamented.  "HAPPO BEANJAM BLOWOUT!" 

Ranma barely managed to avoid getting caught in the midst of 
the miniature tornado that erupted from Happosai's outstretched 
hands.  The residual wind blew him backwards and away from the 
lecher once more, though.  The members of the crowd behind him 
scattered desperately as the tornado attack sailed by them, 
plowing into a wall and sending up a shower of debris.

Ranma regained his footing and whirled to face his adversary, 
only to find that Happosai had disappeared.

As Ranma cast about for his foe, he and the assembled crowd were 
startled by the sound Happosai's disembodied voice, seeming to 
echo from all directions at once.  "Recognize my Happo Dimensional 
Warp Technique, boy?"  The old man cackled madly, his ghostly 
voice reverberating through the air.

Ranma smirked.  "Yeah, sure.  But you can't attack while you're 
invisible, can ya?  That technique's worthless in a fight..." 
He was interrupted by a sharp pain from behind.  Happosai's 
surprise attack sent Ranma hurtling to the turf once more.

The old man was visible again.  "Maybe I can't attack while 
I'm invisible, but you didn't know where I was coming from, 
did you?"

Ranma snarled and rolled to his feet again, wincing in pain.  
The old guy could sure pack a punch when he put his mind to 
it.  

"What's the matter, boy?" Happosai taunted.  "Ready to give 
up?  Or maybe you're thinking of using the >snort< Saotome 
Secret Technique!"

"Not on your life!"  Ranma pounced towards the old man with 
blinding speed.  "KACHU TENSHIN AMAGURIKEN!"

"Oohs" and "aahs" arose from the assembly of onlookers.  This 
technique was always a real crowd-pleaser.  Ranma rained blows 
towards the dodging old master, his fists moving with impossible, 
blurring speed.  But Happosai's speed was equally astonishing - 
he slipped between each of Ranma's punches with such quickness 
that he seemed to be teleporting out of the way of the blows.  
For several seconds, the two maintained this relentless pace of 
attack and defense, until suddenly one of Ranma's punches connected 
solidly with his adversary's tiny body.  The withered form of 
Happosai rocketed backwards across the vacant lot, finally 
skittering to a halt on the turf.

<Well, well,> Happosai thought.  <He tagged me, and I didn't even 
mean to let him do it.  Someday, he might be good enough to 
actually beat me.  If he lives that long...>

Ranma was back in his fighting stance, a confident look on his 
face.  He felt a lot better now that he'd tagged the old man with 
a clean hit.  "You're slowin' down in your old age, gramps!"

Happosai rose, his battle aura flaring to life around him.  He 
made himself look as angry and fearsome as possible.  <Time to 
show him something he hasn't seen before.>  "Ranma, you little 
brat!  Now you've really angered me!  Prepare to face... 
Anything-Goes Founder Secret Technique - Rage of the Drunken 
Dragon!"  

"Huh?"

With that, Happosai whipped out a bottle of sake, took a deep 
swig, and began to spit fireballs at the surprised Ranma.  

It was a simple trick, really - all you needed was some flammable 
liquid (preferably sake, though even kerosene would do in a pinch) 
and a hot enough battle aura to ignite it.  Happosai was pouring 
it on, using his ki energy to seem to grow to an enormous size, 
spitting blazing fire blasts towards his foe.  Ranma seemed to be 
totally unprepared for this - all he could do was dodge frantically 
as he was pursued by Happosai's searing attacks.  

For a while, Happosai thought Ranma was just panicking, or perhaps 
waiting for him to wear himself down.  He was disappointed - he 
had hoped for a better showing out of Ranma this time around.  At 
the last instant, though, he noticed that there was a method to 
Ranma's seemingly mindless retreat.  <Ah, he's drawing me into a 
spiral.  I almost didn't catch him doing it, with all the screeching 
and yelping he's doing.  A very nice act, boy, a very nice act.  
With all the heat I'm putting out, this should be most impressive 
indeed...>

"Ranma!"  Akane shouted in horror.  "Look out!"

Suddenly, Ranma whirled on his attacker, all hint of fear gone from 
his face.  "You lose, old man! HIRYU SHOTEN HA!"

The principle of the "Rising Dragon Hurricane" technique was to take 
the heat of your opponent's battle aura and turn it against itself, 
using the conflicting cold aura of one's own "Soul of Ice" to generate 
a powerful energy whirlwind.  Ranma executed the final move of the 
technique - a powerful uppercut - and caught Happosai dead in the 
midst of the instantaneous cyclone.  The onlookers scrambled for 
support, almost blown off their feet by the intensity of the sudden 
wind.  

Happosai's tiny body was battered, buffeted, and generally 
pulverized by the immense forces of Ranma's attack.  After it 
finally subsided, he was slammed back into the ground like a small 
meteor, coming to rest in a crater that was over three meters 
deep.

Panting with exertion, Ranma made his way to the lip of the 
crater.  "Is it... is it over?"

Amazingly, Happosai had struggled slowly to his feet.  He didn't 
have to feign weariness - letting himself get caught with the 
brunt of that attack had been a painful sacrifice indeed.  To 
all watching, it looked as if the withered old being was barely 
strong enough to stand.  He kept his back turned to Ranma, as 
if in shame.

"You win, Ranma."  He sighed, sounding incredibly weary.  "I... 
I can't beat you."

Even Ranma was startled by the resignation he heard in Happosai's 
voice.  "Gramps..."

"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing.  It's clear..." 
Again, he sighed heavily.  "...it's clear that I'm no longer fit 
to be the Master of Anything-Goes Martial Arts.  Ranma, my boy, 
I pass the title to you."

Ranma wasn't the only one who was thunderstruck by this 
pronouncement.  The assembled crowd gasped and murmured at this 
unprecedented turn of events.

"Master no!" Genma exclaimed.  "You can't!"

"You're the founder of our school!"  Soun cried.

"Perhaps, but I am no longer its greatest practitioner."  He 
finally turned to face Ranma.  This part was critical.  "Ranma, 
do you accept the burden of being the Master of Anything-Goes 
Martial Arts?"

"Uhh..."  Ranma's brain was overloaded for a moment.  "Geez, 
gramps... d'ya really mean it?  You're gonna retire?"

Happosai nodded, slowly and sadly.  "My day is done."

"Then..." Ranma grappled with the enormity of the moment.  
"I'm the Master.  I'm the Master!"

<Success!> the old man thought.  Right now, all he wanted to 
do was take off in a sprint and put as much distance between 
himself and Ranma as possible, but there were certain appearances 
that needed to be maintained.  He turned slowly, as if burdened 
by all the sadness in the world, and trudged off into the 
distance.  

"Master!" called Soun and Genma.

Happosai paused for a moment.  He didn't look back, but only 
said:  "I am your Master no longer.  Goodbye, Saotome Genma.  
Goodbye, Tendou Soun.  Goodbye... Master Ranma.  Farewell 
forever."

With that, he shuffled slowly around the corner.  The moment 
he was out of sight, he took off like a bat out of hell.  He 
barely heard the sound of Genma and Soun beginning to celebrate 
their freedom as he left, bounding from rooftop to rooftop, 
escaping with all the speed he could muster.  There was a hunter 
headed towards Nerima now, and he didn't intend to be anywhere 
nearby when it found its prey.

- - - - - - 

COPYRIGHT STUFF:  All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko,
and are licensed in America by Viz Communications.    

GRT - May 1998
grayson@rigroup.net
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