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
               =========================

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                      CHAPTER SEVEN:
                      Inner Strength
-----------------------------------------------------------

She stood in the darkening forest with a knife clutched in her 
trembling hand, trying to work up the nerve to end it once and 
for all.

One cut was all it would take.  A decisive moment, a slash of 
edged steel, and she would be done with the pain and the 
frustration.  It would be that easy to put an end to her 
suffering, to finally have some peace, if only she had the 
courage to do this one simple thing.  The knife was sharp 
and she was strong.  A single slice was all it would take.

All Akane had to do was cut the rope and let the rock fall.  

The sun had almost set, and the boulder loomed like a great 
shadow overhead, swaying ever so slightly as it dangled from 
the trees.  She had never hated anything so fiercely in her 
entire life.  Every day for over three weeks she'd come here, 
smashing herself against this damnable stone again and again.  
Today she had repeated the ritual, once more with the same 
result.  It seemed as if she'd been crushed by this rock a 
thousand times, though in reality she knew exactly how many 
sessions she'd actually endured.  

She was getting nowhere with this.  Perhaps she was a bit 
quicker to recover now than she had been at first, perhaps 
she'd learned to face the rock with courage rather than 
panicking before it hit, but those were insignificant 
achievements.  The training was pure insanity.  She wasn't 
any closer to finding the breaking point than she'd been 
when she'd begun.

Akane seemed to hurt all the time now.  She limped through 
the days in a haze of aches and pains.  Everything in her 
life seemed to be diffused and indistinct, like she was 
watching the world through a perpetual fog.  She knew that 
her grades at school were suffering.  She hadn't spent time 
with her friends in what seemed like an eternity.  She 
hadn't done any other sorts of training since she started 
trying to break this piece of merciless stone.  Now, it was 
the only thing that seemed real in her life.  She could see 
it swinging towards her every time she closed her eyes.  
The boulder dominated her dreams, an angry planet of pain 
which hurtled relentlessly towards her through the blackness 
of the night.  Those dreams were starting to seem more like 
reality than her waking life.

The only respite she had was the time she spent in Dr. Tofu's 
office, where his gentle hands and soft voice made her forget 
the punishment she'd endured for a while.  It reminded her 
of a time when her life made sense, when she'd been in love 
with Tofu and the world had seemed simple.  Before Ranma had 
come into her life, before everything had become so hard to 
understand.

She could go back to that now.  Ranma was gone, and maybe 
that was for the best.  In time, she'd forget about him - 
sometimes she wondered why she missed such an infuriating 
person at all.  She could go back to being the best martial 
artist at Furinkan, she could be done with magic and curses 
and monsters.  Ranma might come back someday... and if he 
didn't, she would heal.  All she had to do was cut the rope, 
and the pain would be gone.

Akane steeled her resolve and began to climb the tree.

Five minutes later, she was strapped into the harness and 
pulling the release cord, hurtling towards the swinging 
rock with her finger extended like a lance before her, 
screaming in rage.  The black stone pounded her once again, 
sweeping her along in its path as if she were no more than 
a mote of dust.  The shock of the impact overcame her, and 
the world went dark.

She wasn't sure how long she hung there, but by the time 
she came to she and the rock had stopped swinging.  The 
moonlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, and the 
night had grown cold.  Tendou Akane moaned and began to 
work herself slowly out of the rope harness.

<That was really stupid,> she chastised herself.  <Twice 
in one day, and you didn't even put the pads on this time, 
you idiot.>

Nobody was here to help her down this time.  It was a pretty 
long drop to the ground and she wasn't sure if she could 
land on her feet.  Besides, the knife was down there 
somewhere - she couldn't remember when or where she'd 
dropped it.  The last thing she needed was to impale herself 
on Kasumi's bread knife when she fell.  

There was nothing for it but to climb back up the rope to 
the branch, and then down the tree.  She just about passed 
out when she tried to pull herself up with her right arm - 
a sharp, fiery pain crackled from her shoulder along the 
length of the limb.  She settled back into the harness and 
inspected it gingerly.  It wasn't broken, at least, but it 
hurt like the devil.

She started again, using her feet and her left hand to haul 
her aching body up the length of the rope.  She'd added 
another set of bruises to her ribs, and every breath she 
drew left footprints of agony up and down her side.  She 
eased her way carefully along the branch and over to the 
trunk for the climb down, placing every step and handhold 
with deliberate care.  If she'd concussed herself again, 
she knew she couldn't trust her balance.

Akane leaned against the tree trunk when she finally made 
it down, taking shallow breaths and trying to collect her 
wits.  She didn't know what time it was, and she had no 
intention of waking Dr. Tofu up in the middle of the night 
for this.  She knew he'd be upset with her for going back 
to the rock a second time in one day, and she couldn't bear 
the shame of telling him.  

Akane fumbled around for the knife, cursing herself for not 
bringing a flashlight. She was afraid she'd have to leave 
it behind, which meant Dr. Tofu would probably see it when 
they came back, and ask her about it.  But the moon was 
almost full, and she caught the glint of silvery light off 
metal just as she was about to give up.  Gratefully, she 
recovered the kitchen knife and set off, limping her way 
through the woods back towards home.

The lights were out in the Tendou house by the time Akane 
shuffled through the gate, though Kasumi had left the front 
lamp shining for her.  She wondered how late it was.  She 
was impossibly weary, but she knew that she wouldn't be able 
to get to sleep until the pain subsided a bit more.  School 
would be pure hell tomorrow.

She decided to try to eat something first.  Maybe that would 
help her sleep.

Akane barely registered the cluster of jars and containers 
which were stacked off to the side by the clean dishes, most 
of which were full of thinly sliced meats and vegetables.  
If Kasumi had packed them up, she must need them for 
something.  Akane grabbed a couple of slices of bread and 
rummaged around amongst the leftovers for something which 
would make a decent sandwich.

Her father found her slumped in front of the television, 
bleary-eyed but still awake, with her half-eaten sandwich 
on the floor beside her.

"Akane?  Are you all right?  It's so late, we were worried."

She blinked up at him.  Normally it would have upset her 
that she hadn't noticed him enter, but she was well past 
the point of caring about such a trivial matter of pride.  
"Oh, hi Daddy.  I couldn't sleep."

Tendou Soun nodded.  The rigorous training his daughter was 
enduring had taken its toll on her, but she couldn't be 
talked out of quitting.  "I see.  Is Kasumi up?  Did she 
make you that sandwich?"

"No, she's asleep.  You can have it if you want," she 
murmured, taking a sip of tea.

Soun eyed the sandwich with suspicion which bordered on 
fear.  His youngest daughter's legendary disasters in the 
kitchen had made everyone in the household wary of the 
food she created... and yet, the sandwich was half-eaten...

The martial artist swallowed hard and forced a smile.  
"D... don't mind if I do," he said, then reached a trembling 
hand to pick up the remains of the sandwich.  He sniffed it 
carefully, then closed his eyes and took a small bite.

He chewed, swallowed... and took another bite.

Tears trickled their way down familiar pathways on his 
cheeks.

"Oh my sweet girl!" he exclaimed.  "I'm so... I'm so proud 
of you!"

Akane, who hadn't been paying the slightest attention to 
what her father had been doing, blinked up at him in 
surprise.  "What?"

"This..." he held the sandwich before him like a treasure, 
"this... is a decent sandwich!  My girl can make a decent 
sandwich!"

Akane boggled at him, unable for a moment to understand 
what on Earth he thought he was talking about.  She'd just 
thrown some leftovers onto a piece of bread, and her father 
acted like it was cause for some sort of national holiday.

A small burst of laughter escaped her.  Her cooking again... 
that was the big deal.  All the effort and sweat and tears 
she'd poured into trying to make herself into a good cook, 
and now finally she'd made something that someone liked for 
a change without even trying.  What would Ranma have said?

She laughed some more.  Her father laughed with her, 
practically dancing a jig with the sandwich in hand.  Only 
when he realized that his daughter's laughter had changed 
into sobs did he break off his own celebration.

"Akane?" he asked.  "Are you all right?"

"I've been..." she gasped, her face buried in her hands, 
"... I've been so stupid... so stupid..."

Soun set the sandwich aside and knelt to embrace his 
daughter.  Akane trembled and wept uncontrollably in his 
arms, not caring how much her ribs hurt every time a sob 
jolted its way up from her chest.  All she could think 
about was how angry she used to get about her cooking, how 
much stupid, pointless energy she'd wasted on something so 
utterly trivial.  Scores of arguments she'd had with Ranma 
replayed themselves in her head; fights about cooking, about 
other girls, about some comment or another, about any number 
of petty, idiotic things.  They'd fought like it didn't 
matter, like they had all the time in the world, but now 
he was gone and she might never see him again.  Was that the 
sum of the memories she would have?  Bickering and teasing, 
angry blows and cruel words?  Did she really waste the time 
she was given with Ranma on such foolish, foolish things?

"I want him back!" she wailed into her father's shirt.  "I 
want... I want..." Her words lost cohesion and she just 
cried.

Soun rocked his daughter gently, like he had when she was 
still a baby, and stroked her hair.  He did not weep.  His 
tears would do Akane no good, and he realized that he had 
been useless to her for too long.

He was so proud of her, of how hard she was trying to learn 
this dangerous technique, of how much she wanted to help 
Ranma.  He couldn't tell her to stop, not now.  His daughter 
was a true fighter, more than he had ever been himself, all 
he ever would have wanted in an heir to his school.  But she 
needed the skills to back up her spirit, skills which he 
could not teach her himself.

Tendou Soun knew his own limitations.  If he could be a hard 
and strict teacher, he might help Akane hone her abilities.  
But he had learned years ago that such a thing was beyond his 
reach.  He had taught her what he could by the time she was 
ten.  While his friend Genma could push his son for the sake 
of the Art (sometimes too far), Soun could never bring 
himself to physically hurt his own child, no matter what.  

That didn't mean he had to sit back and watch his daughter 
try to learn on her own.  If her father couldn't help train 
her, he could find someone who could.

Akane's sobs had subsided - she was asleep in his arms.  
Tendou Soun gently lifted his daughter and carried her back 
to her room.  Tomorrow would be a hard day for her, but he 
knew what he had to do.

- - - - - -

Nabiki forced herself to relax her white-knuckled grip on 
the spatula and took a deep breath.  She eased the edge of 
the spatula underneath the sizzling okonomiyaki, trying to 
keep her hand steady.  <Come on, you lousy little monster, 
don't you dare...>

Someone came through the door of the restaurant in the 
middle of her flip, and her attention wavered.  The pancake 
immediately formed a ragged split down the middle and flopped 
off her spatula onto the grill in two uneven pieces.  
 
Nabiki wanted to scream.  She wanted to jump up and down 
shout obscenities at Ukyou, at Konatsu, at her customers, 
even at Kasumi.  She wanted to hurl the ingredients on the 
floor, slop the batter onto the walls, smash the tables and 
chairs to flinders and set the whole restaurant on fire.  
Instead, she brushed her limp hair back from her eyes and 
forced a smile at the customer at the counter.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "It'll just be a few more minutes, 
I'm afraid."

"That's okay," the older gentleman assured her.  "I'll eat 
it in two pieces.  I really don't mind."

She hated the part of herself that wanted to collapse in 
gratitude.  The man obviously saw that she was struggling 
and wanted to help her out.  He could tell she was inept, 
and she couldn't bear his pity.  

Unfortunately, she WAS inept.  There was no denying it.  
It took her ten minutes to do a job that Konatsu or Kasumi 
could do in one.  She smiled at him and thanked him, scooping 
the two pieces of okonomiyaki onto a plate.  

Nabiki's okonomiyaki were sad things to behold, especially in 
comparison to the creations of the other cooks who had worked 
this griddle, but the customers bought them and nobody had 
thrown up yet.  That was about the best she could say for 
the day so far.

Kasumi had spent three or four hours in the kitchen with 
her last night teaching her what to do.  Nabiki had made a 
point of not cooking anything more complicated than rice 
since her mother had died, but she'd seen no other way out 
of her dilemma.  She couldn't make Kasumi work for her for 
free - she refused to take that step.  But asking Kasumi to 
teach her was another matter.  Her elder sister had been 
more than willing to help.

She'd made it look so easy.

Cooking the actual pancakes was really the simplest part.  
The true secret to making good okonomiyaki was in the 
preparation.  The sauce was especially critical, but all 
the ingredients had to be diced, marinated, sauteed, and 
seasoned as well.  Preparing the individual okonomiyaki 
itself was just a matter of mixing the right ingredients 
into the batter and dumping it onto the griddle.  

It sounded so simple, and it hadn't been that difficult 
last night, with Kasumi looking over her shoulder and 
telling her what to do.  But today, with the hot grill 
sizzling and hungry customers staring at her, every aspect 
of preparing the food seemed to be a task worthy of Hercules.  
The batter wouldn't pour evenly, so her pancakes came out 
looking like dying amoebas rather than smooth, appetizing 
discs.  The okonomiyaki would come out burned on the bottom, 
or mushy in the middle, or both.  The ingredients seemed to 
disappear on her sometimes, and she'd end up clawing through 
a clutter of jars and bowls to find what she needed.  And 
she had a devil of a time keeping the damned things intact 
when she flipped them.

"May I place an order?"

"In a moment," she called.  There was something she was 
supposed to do.  She ran through Kasumi's checklist in her 
mind... oil the griddle.  She always forgot that.  No wonder 
her okonomiyaki fell apart so often.

"Can I help you?" she asked her customer when she'd 
finished.  It was only then that she recognized the person 
at the counter.  "Uh... hi."

"Why hello, Tendou-san," the girl in the tennis outfit said 
sweetly.  "I'd heard about your latest job, but I had to see 
it for myself."

Nabiki gave her a weak, wary smile.  Watanabe Mari was 
captain of the junior girl's tennis team at Furinkan, and 
not a person who had much love for Nabiki at present.  She 
had been one of Nabiki's last delivery slaves before the 
Ucchan's take-out enterprise had collapsed.  Nabiki had sent 
Konatsu to follow her for three nights in a row, until he'd 
finally come home with photographs of the girl and her 
boyfriend checking into a love hotel.  Mari had bought the 
negatives with four days of hard work carrying okonomiyaki 
through the streets of Nerima.  Had the girl come to mock 
her, or take her revenge?

"Can I get you anything, Mari?  Er... Watanabe-san?"

Mari raised an eyebrow and grinned.  "You're really cooking," 
she observed.  "The great Tendou Nabiki, who always seemed 
to find a way around having to take Home Economics.  What 
did you call all the girls who were 'chained up in the 
kitchen?'  You had some term that was so clever, but I can't 
seem to remember it."

Nabiki sighed.  Part of her wanted to snap back in defiance, 
but she couldn't muster the energy.  "I don't remember 
either," she lied.  <I called them a bunch of wall-eyed 
cattle, I seem to recall, but I really don't want to admit 
it.>

"Oh well, no matter.  The team voted to get okonomiyaki for 
lunch.  I need to place an order," she said cheerfully, but 
with an unmistakable undertone of malice.

"Okay," Nabiki collected her pad and pencil.  "What would 
you like?"

Mari produced a list from her breast pocket and unfolded 
it.  She cleared her throat, and began to read.  "Three of 
the number four sliced pork.  One of the number three 
sliced pork, double meat.  Two of the number seven eel, 
but one of them with no green onions.  That's Akiko, she's 
allergic to onions.  Three of the number two squid, but one 
of them should have the ginger sauce and one of them needs 
to have water chestnuts.  Two of the number three chicken, 
both without soba noodles.  Two of the number four chicken, 
one with soba noodles added, one with extra sauce.  Three 
of the vegetarian special, one of those without peppers, 
one of those with extra boiled cabbage.  One fish-lover's 
special, with a sprinkle of wasabi.  Not too much, Miaka 
gets sick if she has too much, even though she loves the 
taste.  And for me, one salmon okonomiyaki with tangy mirin 
sauce, heavy on the pickled ginger."

Nabiki had stopped writing about a third of the way through.  
Outside, she tried to keep her composure, but her mind was 
already spiraling in a black vortex of helplessness.  It 
would take her FOREVER to fill that order, if she was even 
capable of it at all.  Ukyou could have done it in five 
minutes flat.  Mari smiled at her with artificial warmth.

On the other hand, she realized, this sale would probably 
put her over the top for her budget.  The restaurant would 
stay afloat another day.

"If you get it done in thirty minutes," she said, "I've got 
a big tip waiting for you."

She was a woman lost at sea, and there was nothing to do 
but to dog-paddle her way towards shore.  "Could you... 
please read that again?  I want... to make sure I got it 
right."

Mari handed her the list.  "Here, just take this," she said 
gaily.  "I'll be back in a few!"  She twirled, her long 
ponytail swishing out in a graceful arc behind her, and 
all but skipped out of the little restaurant.  

Nabiki watched her go, brushing the greasy strands of hair 
out of her eyes.  The scheming mercenary girl who would 
have plotted vengeance for this was long gone.  Nabiki the 
cook was just trying to figure out how she could get these 
okonomiyaki prepared before Mari came back.  

<This,> she thought as she assembled the ingredients, <has 
been the most tiring day of my entire life.>

The next day was even worse.  But somehow, she made it 
through anyway.

- - - - - - 

Akane trudged up the sidewalk towards the gate to Furinkan 
High School, trying to ignore her weariness.  In a few 
minutes, she'd get to class and be able to sit down.  The 
combination of physical abuse and lack of sleep from the 
day before had left her a total zombie.  Her bookbag felt 
like an anvil bolted to the end of her arm.  She'd considered 
skipping the day, but sheer force of habit had carried her 
through her morning routine and out the door.  <Maybe I'll 
skip gym class,> she thought.  <I seriously need to get 
some rest.>

She turned the corner to enter the gate, and was rather 
astonished to see the entire student body of the school 
gathered on the front lawn.  They were all staring straight 
at her.

"Wha..." she gasped, blushing.  "What's going on?"

It was then that she noticed the podium.  Her father stood 
elevated above the sea of high school students, a megaphone 
in hand.  Behind him, a panda with a pair of flags translated 
his words into semaphore for the benefit of the hearing 
impaired.  

"Students of Furinkan High!" he addressed them.  "As you 
know, my daughter has been engaged to your fellow classmate, 
Saotome Ranma.  However, Ranma has taken a leave of absence, 
and we do not know when he will return."

Murmurs rippled through the assembled teenagers.  Various 
rumors had circulated regarding Ranma's conspicuous 
vanishing, but nobody seemed to be certain of the truth.  
Akane had been less than forthcoming about the matter, and
few people at school wanted to talk to Nabiki right now.

Tendou Soun continued.  "It grieves me to see my beloved 
daughter left alone while her dear fiancee is away.  
Therefore, I have determined that she should be allowed 
to socialize as she pleases while Ranma is away!"

Akane's jaw dropped.  The muttering in the crowd 
intensified.  

"So I declare," her father shouted through the microphone, 
"that whoever can best my daughter in combat... will have 
my permission to date with her!"

Akane gasped in disbelief and horror.  It had been bad 
enough when Kuno had made this insane proposal the first 
time, but her own father.... 

The girls in the crowd scattered, along with many of the 
boys.  The remaining throng of young men advanced on her, 
smiles on their faces, adoration in their eyes, and hands 
curled up into fists.  

Akane took a step back, but the urge to bolt quickly 
vanished.  In its place swelled a familiar surge of rage. 
It had been a while since she'd gotten really genuinely 
angry, not since Ranma had left, but her wrath returned 
to her like a trusted friend and filled her limbs with 
strength.  

She stomped forward, hand clenched around the handle of 
her bookbag, battle aura simmering to life.  "You have got 
to be kidding me!" she growled.  

"We love you, Akane!"

"Date with me, Tendou-san!"

"SHUT UP AND DIE!" she shrieked, and launched herself into 
the crowd.

For the first minute of battle, she tore through her 
classmates like a chainsaw through a stack of champagne 
glasses.  She was stronger and faster than she'd been 
when she'd last fought the student populace in bulk, and 
they fell like flies before her blows.  But her body began 
to fail her as the fight dragged on.  The sprained muscles 
right arm screamed in protest with every punch she threw, 
and her aching ribs made every breath seem like a lungful 
of liquid fire.  Her blows became weaker, her kicks slower, 
and her attackers started to land some of their strikes.

Akane took her bookbag in both hands and flailed madly in 
every direction, abandoning technique for sheer strength 
in her attacks.  She battered her attackers in a frenzy, 
practically blinded by her own pain and anger.  The handle 
of her bag snapped, spraying books and loose papers in a 
broad fan across the trampled grass.  She charged forward 
and set into her opponents, heedless of her own defense or 
the counterattacks they landed on her, praying that she 
could finish them before her strength finally abandoned 
her.

She smashed two heads together and tossed the dazed boys 
aside, then cast about for other foes to hit.   Nobody 
attacked.  Was it over?  Had she finally finished them...?

"Truly, these lowly curs are unworthy to date with thee."

Akane turned slowly, her heart full of despair.  Of course, 
Kuno had held back until the end.  He advanced on her in 
his kendo stance, wooden sword held out before him in steady 
hands.  Akane's vision was blurred around the edges, she 
could barely keep herself standing. 

She wanted to cry.  It was hopeless - Kuno was better than 
all the others she'd faced put together, and she was dead 
on her feet.  In a one-on-one fight, in her condition, she 
didn't stand a chance.

Inspiration struck.  "Oh Kuno!" she cried, throwing her arms 
wide and beaming at him.  "Come to me!"

"Tendou Akane!  At last we are together!"  Kuno Tatewaki's 
face was bright with joy.  He rushed forward to embrace her, 
his arms spread and his defense forgotten.

>From somewhere deep within, Akane drew forth the last of her 
strength for one final blow.  Kuno never knew it was coming.  
Her brutal uppercut connected with his chin with a loud 
crack, and Kuno's body hurtled away from her like a rocket.  

She never saw where he came down.  She was on her knees a 
second after she landed the blow, gulping down breath after 
agonizing breath.  Akane was at the end of her strength, and 
for several long minutes she could not have moved even if 
she wanted to.  Her friends cluttered protectively around 
her, chattering worriedly and trying to soothe her.  Akane 
was grateful - if any of the boys who'd held back attacked 
her now, she'd never be able to defend herself.

Her father shouldered his way through the crowd of girls 
and dropped to his knees to embrace her.  "Oh my sweet 
girl!  I'm so proud!" he wept.

"Why..." she heaved, but she was too racked with agony 
to speak more than that.

"It's for your training," her father explained.  "Even with 
the bakusai ten-ketsu regimen, you can't afford to neglect 
the rest of your training.  Now, you'll have no choice but 
to fight every morning."

"Thanks a lot," she croaked.  He called this training?  
Akane would have argued further, but she simply didn't 
have the strength.  She couldn't remember ever being so 
utterly spent and exhausted in her entire life.  

The next day was even worse.  But somehow, she made it 
through anyway.

- - - - - - 

Ranma nearly lost his balance when he dodged the kick, and 
recovered just in time to get out of the way of the 
roundhouse strike which followed.  He hopped backwards, 
trusting to luck that he'd find firm footing when he landed 
instead of loose stone or treacherous roots.  He recovered 
his fighting stance and ducked away from the next series of 
blows with a little more ease.

There was no question about it.  Ryouga was getting faster.

Ranma threw a couple of kicks at the lost boy, getting him 
to drop his guard towards his abdomen, then sprung up and 
bounced off his head.  The momentum of his leap carried him 
up over his opponent, and Ranma knew it was a move that 
always got on Ryouga's nerves.  Instinct told him to tuck 
his feet up, and he barely avoided Ryouga's backhanded 
counterattack.  He rolled in a somersault when he landed, 
finding his feet an instant later and pivoting to face the 
bandana-clad martial artist once again.

Ryouga flashed him a fanged smile and unlimbered his battle 
umbrella.

"Not too shabby," Ranma called.  "You're almost keepin' me 
awake this time."

"Heh," Ryouga snorted.  "See if you can sleep through this!"

With that, Ryouga launched himself at Ranma, holding his 
umbrella with both hands as if to impale his foe on its 
blunt end.  The pig-tailed boy dodged the first attack, and 
then suddenly the red umbrella flew like a piston, striking 
towards him with blow after rapid blow as Ryouga pressed his 
attack.

"This is... Kuno's trick!" Ranma shouted indignantly as he 
dodged.  The rapid-strike umbrella barrage was indeed 
reminiscent of Kuno Tatewaki's favorite special attack, 
though Ranma thought Ryouga might be going just a bit 
faster than the kendo artist usually did.  

Kuno's attack was powerful enough to crack stone with the 
air pressure alone.  Ryouga's umbrella was thicker than 
the wooden sword that Kuno used, and probably thirty times 
heavier.  It displaced a LOT more air.  The leaves flew 
from the trees around them, branches cracked and twigs flew.  
Ranma felt a colossal rush of air with every stab of the 
umbrella.  He was profoundly glad that he was fast enough 
to dodge each hit.  Anyone caught in the fury of this 
attack would surely be pulverized.

Suddenly, bright red filled Ranma's vision, and then he 
was off his feet, hurtling through the air in the grasp 
of a typhoon-force gust of wind.  His body bounced off a 
thick tree trunk and clattered through a tangle of brittle 
branches.  

He ended up sprawled on his back, wondering what had 
happened.  When he pushed himself painfully up to get a 
look, he saw Ryouga standing a few dozen meters away, his 
open umbrella held out in one hand beside him.  He was 
breathing a little hard, but he looked immensely 
satisfied.

Ranma understood.  Ryouga had opened the umbrella on that 
last strike, and the resulting burst of wind had hit him 
like a battering ram.

"What do you think?" Ryouga asked.  "I think I'll call it 
my 'Storming Umbrella Monsoon.'"  He propped his umbrella 
up over his shoulder and twirled it slowly.

Ranma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and climbed 
to his feet.  That last hit had really stung, but he was 
tough enough not to let it show.  He grinned at Ryouga and 
brushed a few stray leaves from his shirt.  

"You ought to thank me," he asserted.  "You never coulda 
pulled that off without my Amaguriken training."

"Feh," Ryouga spat.  "You didn't teach me anything."

"What?" Ranma snapped.  "I showed you the training method, 
you numbskull!"

"You gave up trying to train us after the first night," 
Ryouga shot back.  "I was the one who stuck with it!"

"Why you ungrateful little..." Ranma took an aggressive 
step forward.

Ryouga dropped his head a little, hiding his eyes under 
his bangs and smiling.  A hint of fang showed from beneath 
his lip.  "Face it, Ranma, I could've done the same thing 
if I read about that technique in a book.  And as for 
Ukyou... she needed more encouragement than a lout like 
you could ever give."

"Encouragement?" Ranma echoed.  "I gave her plenty of 
encouragement!  She was just scared of the fire..."

"I DID IT!"

The shout came from the direction of their camp, where 
Ukyou had been setting up the campfire for dinner.  Ranma 
and Ryouga both turned to see the okonomiyaki chef spring 
out of the undergrowth and bound towards them, a huge smile 
on her face.  She pounced towards Ryouga and grabbed him by 
the hand, pulling him so hard that he came off his feet.

"Come look!  Come look!" she sang as she dragged him back 
through the forest.  Ranma followed shortly after, a confused 
look on his face.

Ryouga didn't seem to mind being so unceremoniously hauled 
away from his spar.  He sat down opposite the roaring 
campfire and watched attentively.  Ranma stood at a 
distance.

"Here goes," Ukyou announced.  She picked up two heaping 
handfuls of acorns and tossed them into the heart of the 
blaze.  

Her hands moved surely towards each one, penetrating the 
sheathe of flame with such alacrity as to dodge the heat 
itself.  The hesitancy she'd once showed between her strikes 
was gone, replaced by a confidence in her aim and agility.  
Her arms churned with blinding speed as she deftly plucked 
each acorn, one by one, from the orange jaws of the hungry 
fire.  Ranma's stared open-mouthed.

"YES!" she shouted in voice full of pure triumph after she 
snatched the last acorn.  She held both handfuls aloft, two 
fistfuls of acorns which steamed with the sweet fragrance of 
victory.  Her arms and face were smudged with soot, but 
Kuonji Ukyou glowed in her joy.  

"You did it!" Ryouga exclaimed.

"WE did it!" she shouted back.

"You... you mastered the technique too?" Ranma asked Ryouga 
with wide eyes.  

"Heh... not yet," Ryouga said.  "I'm still not quite fast 
enough."

"You'll do it!" Ukyou assured him.  "If I did it, you can 
too.  I'll keep helping you out!"

He nodded gravely, but broke into a smile again.  "You did 
it," he repeated.

Her eyes were full of gratitude.  "I never could have done 
it without you," she said, looking at Ryouga until he coughed 
and blushed.  

Ranma felt a stab of jealousy, but mostly he was embarrassed. 
 How had this happened?  Ukyou hadn't responded to his 
attempts to train her at all, but somehow Ryouga had managed 
to help her learn a technique that he didn't even know 
himself. 

Ranma had watched them training, but hadn't believed they 
were really getting anywhere.  Ryouga seemed to be going so 
easy on her, doing simple little speed exercises and playing 
impromptu dexterity games, always telling her how great she 
was doing even when she hadn't achieved anything special.  
For Ranma, encouragement had never been a matter of kind 
words or praise - it had always been a swift kick in the 
rear whenever he'd slacked off.  He'd always thought that 
a gentle martial arts trainer was about as useful as a 
sponge roof in a rainstorm.

But Ukyou had learned the technique.  And he had to admit, 
it wasn't due to anything he'd done.

<No way Ryouga is a better trainer than me,> he snarled 
inside.  <I ain't finished yet, not by a long shot!>

"I'm proud of you, Ucchan," he said, interrupting their 
celebration.

She smiled, her cheeks turning pink.  "Thanks, Ranchan.  
It was your technique and everything."

"And you mastered it.  Now, you're ready to move on to the 
next phase of your training," he told her.

Ukyou's eyes went wide.  Ryouga turned to look at him 
curiously.  "What are you going to teach her?"

"Another special technique?" Ukyou said, her voice quivering 
a little.  "Ah... I won't let you down!" she said with 
deliberate bravery.

"I know you won't," he said confidently.  "We'll start 
your new training tomorrow.  I want your mind clear, and 
your body well-rested."

She gave him a single, vigorous nod.  "I'll be ready."

"Good," he said.  "Now let's eat, huh?  I'm starvin'."

Ranma chewed on his food thoughtfully.  <Now all I gotta 
do is think of somethin' to teach her...>

- - - - - - 

continued in part two...