Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first
published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North
America by Viz Communications.

All commentary, public or private, is welcomed.

Homepage at:  http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Bay/9758

Chapter 30 : The Figure In the Shadows [3 of 4]

     He waited patiently until she woke up, flicking the lighter
to life each time it went out.  When she at last came to, he
smiled and watched the firelight dance, reflected in her dark
eyes.

     She did not try to scream this time, but simply glared at
him hatefully.  She said nothing at all.  The Joketsuzoku had
pride, that had not changed.

     He reached out with his free hand and gently touched her
face.  She did not try to move away, but the hate in her eyes
grew.  Pride, and fierceness.  

     "Little one, do you share her blood, I wonder?" he asked
quietly.  "Perhaps only a little.  I see a touch of her in you.
Then, of course, I see a touch of her in all of you."  He 
stared into her eyes.  "You are the first of your people to pay 
for what she did to me.  It is an honour, of sorts."

     Quite casually, he took her nose between two fingers and
broke it.  She screamed then.  He brought the flat edge of a hand 
down on her left shoulder and shattered part of her collarbone.  
The screams bounced off the walls of the small chamber, and 
seemed to echo too many times.

     She struggled.  He had bound her well and tightly, though.
After a time, he finished working on her face and shoulders and
ribs, and unbound her to work on the arms and legs.  Under other
circumstances, he would have simply killed her immediately.  He
was what he was, but a torturer was not one of them.  The 
torture was necessary.  Pain summoned them.
     
     After a time, he let what remained of her drop to the floor.
The girl had not strength enough left even to weep; instead, she 
made a dry sound deep in her throat as the tears rolled silently
down her ruined face, almost a hissing.  

     The walls were glistening as if covered in some clear slime
now, almost pulsing.  He reached up and dug his nails into the
skin of his face.  Pain, unfamiliar to him for some time, was not
so bad as he remembered.

     He ripped down, tearing his face open, feeling cold blood
spilling.  Lowering his hands, he looked down upon the girl.  
"Gloried was I with the blood of the master, that I shall not
bleed but at my own desire."

     He cupped his hands beneath his own wounds.  Raising his
arms, he held his hands up like a brimming chalice.  "O you who
glory in blood and pain, I offer blood foul and blood innocent,
pain foul and pain innocent.  In the name of the Dark, all the
names of the Dark, come."

     He opened his hands.  His blood fell upon the girl.  A great
sigh seemed to shake throughout the tiny cave, as if the mountain
it lay beneath had settled deeper into the earth.  

     The girl gave a tiny whimper.  He reached down and broke her
neck.  The walls heaved.  There was a sound like wind.  Once,
twice, again, three times a heavy booming like a drum.  

     Then a voice.  Like darkness it was given speech, a slick, 
viscous sound.  Hungry.  "You."
     
     "Shouzin," the Serpent answered.  "Such a long, long time
it's been."  He laughed, and the walls shimmered as if melting,
shaking in silent laughter along with him.

**********

     It was a half-hour after Shampoo left that her father
returned.  Excited, out of breath, speaking rapidly in Chinese to
Akane and Ryoga, who he came upon sitting together in the living 
room.

     Realizing a moment later that they didn't understand, he
switched to his broken Japanese.  "Come quick!  Ceremony is
beginning!"

     "Ceremony?" Akane and Ryoga chimed confusedly.  Shampoo's
father ignored them and ran past, calling out in Chinese again.

     "I wonder what this is all about?" Akane said, glancing at
Ryoga.  They walked down the hallway to the front door and out 
into the streets of the village; a large crowd was gathering in 
the large field where last night's meeting had taken place.  

     A half-dozen girls their age ran by them, chattering 
animatedly.  One stopped as the others went on, and spoke to them
in halting, heavily-accented Japanese.  "You Shampoo's outsider
friends, right?"

     Akane nodded.  The girl smiled.  "You come quick.  Shampoo 
being initiated."

     "Initiated?" Akane asked - but the girl had already ran 
ahead to catch up with her friends.  Ryoga and Akane glanced at
each other, and then hurried into a run.

     They found a place in the gathering crowd, trying to see 
around the people ahead of them to the platform.  Akane ducked
her head back and forth, but everyone in front of her was taller
than her.  

     "Want a boost?" 

     She nodded to Ryoga.  He carefully put his hands on either
side of her waist, and lifted her up onto one broad shoulder.
Akane smiled, seeing him flush slightly.  Ryoga was still the
sweetest guy she knew most of the time.

     Shampoo stood in the centre of the wooden platform, the 
members of the Joketsuzoku Council standing to either side of 
her.  Lang Bei and Fang Shi flanked her on either side; both of
them held small clay pots in one hand and a dipper in the other.  
Shampoo looked as if she didn't quite believe where she was; 
somewhere in the time she'd been gone, her clothing had been 
exchanged for a simple yellow robe, and the ornaments she had 
still worn in her hair had been removed.

     The crowd milled excitedly; a hundred voices speaking in
Chinese crossed back and forth around them, a babble that would
have been unintelligible even if they had understood the
language.  The villagers were very excited, even more than they
had been last night.

     Fang Shi stepped forward and spoke, and at her voice, the
talking of the villagers ceased.  She gestured with the dipper to
Shampoo, and a loud cheer rang out from the crowd.

     "Damn it, what's going on?" Ryoga muttered.  "She sounds too
happy for this to be good..."

     Fang Shi reached into her pot, and ladled a small amount of
water over Shampoo's head.  Akane could see the steam rising into
the crisp autumn air.  The water streamed down Shampoo's hair and 
face and trailed down her shoulders and chest, darkening the 
yellow robe in streaks.  Even from here, Akane was able to see 
her shiver slightly, though the water, it seemed, was warm.

     Fang Shi called out again to the crowd.  Another cheer.  
Scattered murmurs of conversation ran like wildfire through the 
crowd.  Excited faces, the press of bodies all around.

     Fang Shi poured another dipper of water over Shampoo.  The
water spilled down her hair, and it glistened like a wave of the
sea in sunlight.  Shampoo shivered again; she was smiling,
looking confused but happy.

     Akane tried to figure out what was going on, but couldn't.
She silently cursed her own ignorance of the language.  Fang Shi
poured a third dipperful of water over Shampoo - the robe was
slowly becoming soaked and clingy - and spoke a third time.     

**********     
     
     When Tarou came into the village of the Joketsuzoku, the 
crowd was almost fully-gathered; a few stragglers hurried to join
it, mostly men and young boys.  The talk was of ceremonies, 
initiations.  Tarou scowled and hurried his walk, feeling very 
tired and irritable.  He hadn't slept in over a day.  How was he 
supposed to find Akane - or anyone else - in this mess?

     As he came to the edges of the crowd, he caught sight of a
familiar face, a girl lifted up on someone else's shoulder.  
Serendipity; Akane.  He murmured a silent thanks to whomever
might be listening, and prepared to force his way through the
crowd if necessary.

     An old voice rang out over the heads of the crowd, speaking
Chinese.  "<The gods have chosen a new Maiden.>"  There were
cheers; he struggled to remember what he knew about the 
Joketsuzoku's traditions, failed to put anything together.

     He put his hand on the shoulder of the nearest person, a
girl with long dark hair tied in a high ponytail.  "Excuse me..."

     The girl turned.  
     
     "<I anoint you in the name of your ancestors.>"
     
     "You!" he cried, surprised.
     
     "You!" Rouge countered, eyes widening.
     
     "<I anoint you in the name of your mother.>"    
     
     An ugly anger rose in him.  He'd never settled things
properly with Rouge.  "Payback time."

     Rouge gave a little cry of fear and stepped back from him.
Instinctively, Tarou raised his fist.  Rouge held up her hands in
a pathetic attempt at defense; she was, Tarou remembered, quite
helpless out of her cursed form.

     "<I anoint you in the name of Tou Mu.>"
     
     Tarou realized vaguely he should just leave Rouge alone.
She wasn't important in the scheme of things; any vengeance he
might have here would only be petty and small.  But he was tired
and angry, and not quite thinking clearly.

     He took a step forward, reaching out to take hold of Rouge's
shoulder; the crowd took no notice of the confrontation playing 
out in its midst.  

     A hand snapped out, seemingly from nowhere, and caught his 
wrist in a grip of iron.

     "Don't do it, Pantyhose."
     
     He looked at the unfamiliar man holding him.  Very short,
slimly built.  Young, but with his dark hair already thinning.
Dark eyes, ancient and slightly familiar.  The way he said the 
name was what did it; Nabiki had told him who had come here, and 
he remembered Cologne, youth regained.

     "Happosai!" he snarled.  He lashed out with his free hand;
Happosai twisted out of the way and turned the force of the blow
against him, spinning him away and nearly taking him off his 
feet.  Tarou collided with what felt like a wall of stone.  With 
hands.

     Someone turned him around; there was an enormous strength in
whoever held him.  He stared at the tall, elderly man.  "Watch 
where you are going," the man said in a cold, quiet voice, young
man's voice from old man's lips.  He was unbelievably strong; 
Tarou couldn't even move.  The man gripped him painfully by the 
shoulders, then shoved him back and turned contemptuously away.
Tarou nearly tripped over his own feet.

     Tarou's temper broke.  With a growl that could barely be 
heard over the cheering of the crowd, he leapt for the man's
retreating back.

**********

     Happosai watched Pantyhose Tarou spring for the back of the
tall man.  He threw a quick glance to Rouge; she looked confused 
and scared.  
     
     By the time he glanced back, Tarou was crumpled on the
ground, doubled over and gasping for breath.  The old man looked 
down at him and smiled slightly.  "You are far too young to 
stand against me."

     The crowd of Joketsuzoku were focused completely on what was
taking place on stage.  Happosai looked at the man who Tarou had
collided with.  At the edges of his senses, a raw apprehension
began to grow; Ryoga bumping the same old man when the train had
stopped, apologizing.  The man raised his head.  Happosai caught 
his eyes.  Pale blue, cold as winter.  

     The eyes seemed to pin him like an insect.  He stared, then
shifted his focus slightly; seeing auras was simplicity for 
anyone with even the slightest control over their ki.

     The man had no aura.  The air around him was a horrible
blankness, a dead zone amidst all the weave and tangle of life.
     
     He was hiding it, then.  Happosai pushed harder, probing 
through the air towards the man with invisible tendrils of his
ki.  The ki slid off him like water, vanishing before it touched.

     The man didn't even seem to notice the attempt at 
penetrating his concealment.  He turned and began to walk away.  
Happosai strode after him and reached up to grab his shoulder.  
"Hold it, you."

     The man spun round and slammed a flat palm into Happosai's
chest, right over his heart.  Happosai gasped; all the blood
drained from his face as he crumpled to the ground, unable to
draw breath.  Darkness swarmed over his vision, the blue sky
filling up with patches of blackness as he stared.  His eyes
closed; wheezing, he tried to draw air, but couldn't.

     "Master?"
     
     He blinked.  Looked up.  Genma and Rouge were standing over
him, and a half-dozen members of the crowd who had noticed his
fall.  A short distance away, Tarou was sitting up, shaking his
head and coughing.  
     
     "Which way?" he asked, forcing the words past the dryness of
his throat as he took cautious breaths of air.  "Where'd he go?"

     Rouge pointed east, to where the mountains rose that they
had passed through to come here.  "That way.  He's very fast."

     "I noticed," Happosai muttered, shakily standing to his 
feet.  Without another word, he half-staggered over to Tarou.  "I
don't care what you're doing here, just come on.  Genma and I are
going to need help with this one."

     Tarou glared up at him hatefully.  "And why," he said, 
loathing raw in his voice, "should I do anything to help you?"

     "Because I can give you what you want," Happosai said 
softly.  He smiled, with just the right edge to it.  The boy was
clever, certainly, but he could be played like an instrument if
one just knew the right techniques.  "Come on."

     Tarou stared at him.  Then, slowly, he nodded.

     "Master Happosai, I really don't think that I should-"
     
     "Shut up, Genma," he snapped, turning fiercely on his former
student.  Then he looked to Rouge.  "Rouge, tell the others when
this is over that we may not be back for a while.  Be careful;
this is even more dangerous than I thought."

     "Why did he call you Happosai?" Rouge asked quietly.  "You
said he was your grandfather.  You said he was a terrible man."

     "He was," Happosai answered, turning away from her.  "Come
on, you two."  As he headed to the east, he felt Rouge's eyes on 
his back, long after she was long out of sight.

**********

     Fang Shi finished the third anointment of the warm water,
and stepped back.  Shampoo felt in a daze; it did not seem to be
happening.  The honour was too much; Council Maiden, for a
punishment that had become a blessing.  The judgement of 
Jusenkyou rendered.  A sign from the gods.

     She stood there for a long minute, as the crowd stared at
her and the waiting gathered in a small pool around her feet.
Another minute passed; the crowd was still cheering.

     The yellow robe, bright as gold, was clinging damply to her
body.  Lang Bei stepped forward now, the time required between 
the two different anointments passed.  "<The gods have chosen a 
new Maiden.>"

     She gestured, as Fang Shi had, to Shampoo.  The cheering
rang out; in the middle of the crowd, Shampoo could see Akane on
Ryoga's shoulder, but none of the others.  "<I anoint you in the
name of your ancestors.>"

     The water was cold, not unpleasantly so.  Shampoo shivered
again, though not entirely with excitement this time.  The feel 
of cold water on her human skin was still so alien, so 
delightful.  She longed to swim again, in the cold mountain 
streams near the village, like she had as a child.

     "<I anoint you in the name of your children.>"
     
     Soaked to the bone by now, a tiny part of her caught on to
the ridiculousness of her situation.  Dressed in wet clothing in
front of everyone.  But that was overwhelmed beneath the pride,
the great honour of what she was being given.  She realized she
would come down from the feeling in a few hours, as the reality
of the situation hit her, but for now she could only bask in the
adulation of her people and the glory of their tradition.

     The names of those who became Maidens from being judged at
Jusenkyou were legendary among her people; those whose judgements 
had exonerated them of crimes or had become blessings.  Ji Yan, 
accused of murdering a rival and exonerated by a fall into one of
the uncursed pools, exposing the true killers the same day as her
judgement.  Bao Jian, who a thousand years ago had refused to 
kill an opponent who had challenged her to a death match; the
Spring of the Drowned Tiger had taken her, and she had become the
greatest warrior the Joketsuzoku had ever seen, though it was 
said she had never taken the life of another human being.

     A third splash of cold water.  "<I anoint you in the name of
Kuan Yin.>"

     And it was over.  She was the Maiden, the youngest member of 
the Council.  No vote, but it was she who broke ties, who made 
the decision when one could not be reached by the older members.  
A great honour; such a great honour.

     Fang Shi was speaking.  There had been an odd turnaround in
Cologne's most powerful rival that Shampoo did not entirely
trust.  Lang Bei had said that it was Fang Shi who had put her
forward as a candidate for Maiden.  Shampoo suspected that the 
wily old woman was trying to salvage the best of a bad situation,
a power play gone wrong, and perhaps make an ally of her.  Let 
her try; let her try.

     "<We are most pleased with you, Shampoo,>" Fang Shi said,
addressing both her and the crowd.  "<You have been redeemed in
the eyes of the powers of the heavens, and in our eyes.  Beyond
that, you have given us valuable information about hidden
enemies among us.>"

     Shampoo blinked.  The last sentence made no sense at all; 
she didn't understand.

     "<A simple method of finding these enemies exists,>" Fang
Shi said.  She snapped her fingers; from near the front of the 
crowd, Bai Ling and another girl emerged, carrying a heavy wooden
cask between them.  They brought it onto the platform; behind her 
great-grandmother's back, Bai Ling shot Shampoo a look of utter
hatred, tinged with an obvious envy.

     Fang Shi turned around and opened the cask.  Steam rose up
from inside, curling into the air.  She turned to regard the
crowd again.  "<Line up.  Come forth and let us see what is among
us.>"

     There was a heavy silence now.  The crowd looked as confused
as Shampoo felt; they made no sound.  Suddenly, in the middle,
there seemed to be a disturbance.  Cries of surprise rose up.

     "<Bring them forth!>" Fang Shi shouted, pointing a withered
finger into the centre of the crowd.  "<Bring forth those who
seek to hide the truth.>"

     Shampoo stared.  The crowd parted like a river around a 
rock, as a half-dozen of the older warriors dragged two 
struggling people, a man and a woman Shampoo did not recognize, 
to the front of the crowd.  
     
     "<Who are they?>" she asked Lang Bei in a whisper.
     
     Lang Bei looked slightly angry.  "<They're new... they
joined the village a few weeks ago.  The woman isn't much of a
warrior, but she's distantly related to one of the older women, 
or so they said..."  She scowled.  "<They're often away.  Trading
journeys, I think.>"

     The two villagers had been brought to the stage now.  They 
looked pale and frightened, no longer struggling.  They said
nothing as the warriors forced them to kneel.  Fang Shi dipped 
out hot water from her cask, and splashed it over them.

     The wings tore from their backs and burst through their
clothing.  Shampoo stared.  "<Spies,>" she whispered hatefully.

     "<Yes!>" Fang Shi shouted, turning to look at Shampoo, eyes
alive with fury.  "<Spies sent among us!  Not even human!>"     
     
     A discontented murmur was running through the crowd.  One of
the warriors who had dragged the Phoenix Mountain spies up to the
platform suddenly drew her sword from her belt and raised it 
back, before anyone could do anything to stop her.

     As it descended, Lang Bei caught it upon her staff.  The
inlaid pieces of jade that ran along the length of the wood 
glittered in the sun, and the sword crashed against the slender 
staff so hard it seemed it would break it in half - yet it held.  
Lang Bei's face was deadly hard, cold with fury.

     Shifting her grip, she drove one end of the staff into the 
belly of the sword-wielder, doubling her over, and knocked her 
off the platform with an upswung shot to the chin a moment later.  
The woman crashed heavily to the sparse grass, and her sword 
clattered to the boards near the kneeling Phoenix woman.  Shampoo 
glanced at her face, and saw that she was silently weeping, 
terrified.

     "<Are the Joketsuzoku murderers?>" Lang Bei snapped, glaring
as if daring anyone else to move.  "<Do we kill without a proper
trial first, before the Council?  What are we?>"

     Bi Shou, standing near the edge of the platform, stepped
forward, a knife in her hand.  "<They are inhuman spies!>"
     
     "<They look more human to me than not,>" Lang Bei replied,
speaking loud enough for all the crowd to hear.  "<This is the
decision of the Council, not of only one.>"  She turned on Fang 
Shi.  "<You exposed these spies, Fang Shi, and for that I thank 
you.  Now the burden of keeping them as safe prisoners falls on 
you.  If they are harmed before tonight's meeting, it is on your 
head.  You know that.>"

     Fang Shi nodded.  "<I know that.>"  She turned and addressed
the crowd.  "<The Council will meet at Watcher's Hill tonight to
decide their fate.  Until then, let us disperse.>"

     The crowd looked angry still.  Shampoo couldn't see Akane or
Ryoga anymore.  Lang Bei stepped forward.  "<Go, my people.  The
Council will judge them as we might judge any outsiders who dared
to spy upon the Joketsuzoku.>"

     Slowly, perhaps almost unwillingly, the crowd began to break
apart.  Fang Shi looked to the warriors who had dragged the spies
to the stage; Shampoo recognized all of them now as being loyal 
to the old Matriarch.  "Take them away."

     The people of the Phoenix were taken away, watched curiously
and with no little hostility by the villagers.  The new Maiden of 
the Council stood, in a soaked golden robe, and tried to sort out 
the confusion of her thoughts.

**********
     
     Tarou scrambled up the trail leading into the mountains
after Happosai.  Behind them, the panting form of Genma Saotome
followed.

     "Who was that?" he snapped.  
     
     Happosai glanced back as he picked his way up a steep spot.
"I don't know.  But I'm not sure if he's entirely human."

     "He sure moved fast," Tarou muttered.  "Strong, too."
     
     Happosai said nothing.  Behind them, the village of the
Joketsuzoku was a tiny miniature, the villagers milling insects.
The gathering seemed to be over, though some of the people still
lingered; Tarou could make out no details beyond that.

     Tarou walked on in silence, trying to sort things out in his
mind.  He was on the verge of deciding there was some sort of
universal conspiracy to keep him from his current goal; getting
to Akane and...

     He was not precisely sure what.  It had seemed the thing to
do; he would figure it out once he got to her.  There was little
enough at this point to do anyway; she certainly wouldn't go back 
home at his request, and neither would any of the others.  
Whatever Cologne's intentions had been, they had obviously come
to failure.  Ranma's friends were here, and they were involved.

     They had entered a scraggily forest on the lower slopes of
the mountain now, picking their way in silence through sickly
trees that struggled to grow in the rocky terrain.  Happosai
moved like a shadow, slipping smoothly in and out of the trees a
few steps ahead of him.

     No matter what, cooperating with the giver of his hated name
should have been inimical to him.  However he had changed - 
however he had realized that the end to the way he had walked his
road was not the one he truly desired - he still hated Happosai.

     But the man's eyes had shaken him.  Blue they might have 
been, but in them had been something of the same inhumanity as
the golden eyes of Galm.  And he had been strong - the same 
irrestible strength as the hound - and fast enough that Tarou
hadn't even seen him move.  He agreed with Happosai; the man was
likely not human.

     Happosai paused in his walking, turning around and shaking
his head.  Tarou stopped as well; breathing heavily, Genma drew
up behind them.

     "No use," Happosai muttered, shaking his head again.  "We'll
never find him.  Too many places to hide in these mountains."

     "Then we can go back?" Genma queried hopefully.  Tarou shot
him a disgusted glare; he despised cowardice.  

     "Not yet," Happosai said.  "We have to talk."
     
     "Well, I'm going back," Tarou declared.  He turned to go.
     
     "Hold it, Pantyhose."
     
     Tarou swung himself around, hands balled into fists at his
sides.  "Don't call me that."

     "Why not, Pantyhose?  It's your name, isn't it?" Happosai
taunted.

     Tarou edged a foot back through the gravelly turf of the
forest floor.  "Say that name again, Happosai," he coldly
challenged.  "One more time."

     "You mean Pantyhose?  I think it's a lovely name."
     
     Tarou rushed him blindly.  The Name, no matter what, no
matter how much he tried, how much he changed, always the Name.

     It was a stupid thing to do, of course.  Happosai flung him
back into a tree with a flick of his hand.  Tarou groaned and 
slumped; a flight back to China from Japan with only one stop 
along the way for a quick rest had taken its toll, as had the 
blow to the stomach he'd taken down in the village.

     "Let's talk, boy," Happosai said.  "I have something you
want a lot, don't I?"

     Tarou raised his head and fixed Happosai with the most 
hateful look he could.  Mutely, he nodded.

     "Genma, sit down," Happosai said, glancing over his shoulder
to where Genma looked on the verge of running away.  "Boy, you 
stay where you are."

     Derisive as 'boy' sounded from Happosai, Tarou decided it 
was better than the alternative.  He wished cold water was at
hand; then he would show Happosai a thing or two.

-Continued in section 4

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