She was dying.  She knew it.  Death was something that she faced every
day.  A risk of who she was, of where she lived, of who she loved.

But to die like this?

The irony of her impending death, quite literally, was killing her.  She'd
gotten what she'd wanted, oh yes.  But she hadn't been the first.  No,
that bitch had won, although she hadn't planned this, this.. infirmity.

All of her training was useless, except to blunt the incessant pain.
There were sects whose training would overcome her.. condition, but she
viewed them as demeaning to her gender, and in any case, it was too far
gone for anything but a miracle.

"Please," she begged in a whisper, "Kill me."

His face frowned in confusion.  Belatedly she realised that she'd slipped
into her native tongue. 

"Warrior.. am I.  To die like.." she gestured feebly at the equipment
surrounding her.  "No.."

She could see in his eyes that he understood.  But his answer was lost to
the mists of unconsciousness, her endurance exhausted for the moment.

				...

He left the private room, his face a mask of sorrow.  His intended, and
perhaps, his beloved, waited in another room in the next ward.  The
hospital staff, had seperated the two invalids by some distance, perhaps
simply due to the availability of beds, perhaps to avoid further damage
due to previous history. 

In any event, the walk gave him time to think, and time to recover.  She
was dying, and he was realising that she was slightly more than a friend.
Her absence would affect their little circle.

Almost in collusion of his thoughts, another aspect of that circle was
waiting for him by a window.

"How is she?" she murmured as he silently stood beside her.

"Seeking a warriors death." he answered just as quietly.

She turned, and regarded his face which was impassively regarding the
distant mountains.

"When?"  The question was simply asked, an acceptance of what he would do,
of what his honour would not let him avoid.  And with it, an implicit
offer of support.

His voice revealed his stress, although his face remained unchanged. "I
don't know yet." 

They stood in silence for another few moments, two sometime friends,
sometime more.  Taking up his hand, she kissed it and held it, before
turning to leave.  "You know where to find me", words which now contained
only the offer to help, not to seduce, as had been done before.

His only response was to squeeze her hand and return to looking out the
window.  The sound of a corridor door swinging shut was the only remark on
her departure.

				...

"How is she?" the question was asked again, this time from one comfortably
sitting up in the hospital bed.

"How are you?" was his response.

"Fine.  The doctor said something about being naturally immune." she
shrugged as if the answer should have been obvious.

Ranma smiled at her, then his expression returned to what Akane regarded
as his 'honour must be upheld' mask.

"She wants to die, as a warrior."

Akane started to speak, then watched him for a few moments.  She
understood.  "It would be viewed as a crime now."

"I know," his face became sad, but still determined. "But I can't let her
die like this, an invalid, brought low by a stupid disease."

Akane nodded.  "She thought she'd finally won when she.." she stopped, the
memory of what Shampoo had done to Ranma, and also what had happened
between Akane and Ranma previously.

He grinned ruefully at that.  "I guess I was too overcome by your
uncuteness when she hit me with those flowers."  That earned him a pillow
in the face, but without rancor as the comment would have invoked scarecly
a month past.

Akane was now picking at the bedcover.  "When do you..?" she asked shyly.

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Ranma shrugged and held her hand.
"Its been two years, I guess we could wait a few months." referring to
the changing of the seasons from winter to spring.

"and Shampoo?"

His hand tightened, and she could see that his face had returned to
sorrow.  "Ukyou has offered to help.  In a day I think."

She hugged him, for she knew his honour would not let him rest until it
was done.

No more words were spoken until a nurse came to announce that visiting
hours were over, and that Akane would be fit to go home on the morrow.

				...

When the time arrived, it was remarkedly easy.  Ukyou had invited a
strangely quiet Cologne to her restaurant, who had brought Shampoo's
weapons and clothing along.

"Mousse?" asked Ranma.

"He blames you at the moment.  I do not.  He is in his cage." answered
Cologne.

He nodded.  "Thankyou."

				...

The Hospital offered no resistance to two martial artists intent on, as
the papers would put it, cold-blooded murder.

They reached Shampoo's room, and gently dressed her as she preferred, as a
warrior.  Ranma winced inwardly upon seeing how far the disease had
spread, but continued on.

Finally, it was done.  With Ukyou standing on guard, Ranma roused Shampoo
from her restless and pained sleep.

She looked at Ranma through pain-filled eyes, and then noticed her changed
attire.  She nodded at Ranma, who bowed, and switched off her life
support.

"Thankyou." she murmured.

				  ...
				Epilogue
				  ...

The newspaper derided the incident as the 'irresponsible' actions of
juveniles.  The court recorded no conviction against Saotome Ranma and
Kuonji Ukyou for their actions in ending the life of Xian Pu as the
hospital report showed that she had no chance of survival, and her family 
insisted that it was her wish to die as a warrior, however issued a stern
warning that their ideals were not always those of mainstream society.

                                      ~~~~~
                  The Chaotic Trickster - kergma@thelbane.ranma.net