Ranma 1/2 is used without permission.

C&C is, as always, welcome and appreciated

Find my other works at http://web.infoave.net/~jedediah
===========================

        Ranma felt on top of the world. For the past two months Akane had
been in remission and was almost as strong as she was before she got sick.
He had left her that morning training in the dojo, breaking cinderblocks as
usual.
        For once in his life, everything seemed to be going right. The only
fight he and Akane had all month was when she insisted that she make dinner.
Of course, he refused to eat it, which sparked the whole argument over
again, and ended with Akane's fist buried in his face. Aside from that,
though, everything was fine. No fights with Kuno or Ryoga, no getting
glomped by Shampoo... All things considered, life was getting rather dull in
Nerima.
        A few high, thin clouds drifted lazily in the reddish-gold sky, the
setting sun casting lengthening shadows on the earth below. A warm breeze
whispered through the trees, caressing Ranma's bare arms as he strode
aimlessly along the fencetop.
        "Glorious day, wasn't it my boy?" The voice startled Ranma out of
his complacent state. Spinning around with almost unnatural grace, Ranma
cast his gaze about frantically. Finally, he spotted the owner of the voice
directly beneath him, gazing upward.
        The old man had abandoned his kimono for more contemporary attire, a
plain white shirt and khaki pants. In his left hand was a cane carved of
dark wood. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, a rather pleasant
smile on his weathered face. "Though I must admit, it was rather odd for
this time of year."
        "What's with the new clothes?" Ranma asked, staring down at the old man.
        "Felt in the mood for something different, son," he replied.
"Besides, those kimonos are quite drafty."
        "So you're here to get that favor, huh?" Ranma asked.
        "Of course, my boy, of course," the old man replied. "But first, get
down from that fence! Honestly, my neck hurts from looking up at you." Ranma
leapt down form the fence, flipping once and scoring a perfect landing.
        "So what do ya want?" Ranma said as the old man stared at him.
        "I see you haven't learned any manners since I saw you last," the
old man said. "Ah, well, no matter." Gripping Ranma by the arm, the old man
began walking toward a small alley flanked by a grocer's on one side, and a
restaraunt  on the other.
        The shadows in the alley were much deeper than those forming
outside. The light of the waning sun hardly reached into the narrow space
where Ranma and the old man stood.
        "Spill it, already," Ranma said, impatient for it to be over.
        "There is a man who goes by the name of Echi Goya. He is a bookeeper
for the law firm of Misato and Sanzaki in the northern end of the ward."
        "What's he gotta do with me?" Ranma asked.
        "He has spent years embezzling funds from their accounts to feed his
habits. Drugs, booze, flesh..."
        "I gotta arrest him or somethin'?"
        "If imprisoned, he'd just bribe his way free. He has to die." Ranma
simply stared at the old man before him as though he couldn't believe what
he had just heard.
        "You want me to kill this guy?" Ranma asked.
        "I did not stutter, did I?" the old man replied.
        "Forget it," Ranma spat. "I ain't no killer." Ranma turned to leave
the alley, but was blocked by the tip of the old man's cane hitting the wall
just in front of his face.
        "Excuse me, perhaps age has hindered my ears. Did you just renege on
our deal?" the old man asked.
        "No, I just said I wouldn't kill the guy," Ranma answered.
        "Listen up, you little prick," the old man snarled, all traces of
amiability in his voice gone. "I held up my end of the deal, and you had
better hold up yours. Got it?" Ranma immediately attempted to grab the old
man, who had leapt backward with unbelievable speed and grace.
        "If you wanna fight, ya old goat, then let's go!" Ranma shouted.
        "Me? Fight you?" the old man asked. He chuckled derisevely for a few
seconds before removing his glasses and affixing Ranma with his haunting
gaze. "You're so out-matched it's pitiful, boy. Besides, I have other ways
of making my point." Ranma assumed a stance, elliciting another chuckle from
the old man. "I'd suggest that you return home, boy, and check on that Akane
of yours. I hear she isn't feeling too well, lately." With that, the old man
rounded the corner of the grocer's, Ranma close in pursuit. When he stepped
into the street, the old man had disappeared. 
        "Now where did he go?" Ranma whispered as he looked about. The old
man's last words replayed in his head, and Ranma felt the urgent need to
return to the dojo.

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

        The lights in the dojo proper held the darkness encroaching from
outside at bay.  In the center of the room, Akane moved about in one of the
last katas her father taught her. Her arms and legs moved in precise timing,
punches and kicks snapping out with lethal accuracy.
        Performing these katas again was, to Akane, one of the greatest
accomplishments of her life, aside form the first time she learned them. It
was odd, before she got sick, these were things she took for granted. Now,
however, moving about the floor of the dojo like this was almost sublime.
Even not being able to touch Ranma in a match didn't bother her as much as
it used to.
        Ranma's actions, on the other hand, were beginning to get to her.
They didn't fight as much, and they actually talked more, which was what
Akane wanted. However, he didn't get the message that she didn't want him
around all the time.
        Her foot lashed out in a high kick, ending the kata. She held the
pose for a few seconds before lowering her leg back to the floor. She
turned, bowing to the small scroll on the main wall. Turning toward the
door, she stopped cold as Ranma came barrelling in.
        "Akane!" he shouted, sliding to a stop ahead of her. His breathing
was a little heavy, meaning that he had been running from wherever he was to
see her.
        "What, Ranma?" she asked, slightly annoyed.
        "You okay?" he asked her. Akane's irritation rose a notch or two.
When was he going to realize that she was fine, and didn't need a nursemaid?
        "I'm fine, Ranma," she replied, letting a note of anger slip into
her voice.
        "You sure?"
        "Yes, I'm fine!" Akane shouted. "I don't need you to..." Akane's
eyes went wide as the color drained from her face. Her hands shot to her
chest as choking noises issued from her throat.
        "AKANE!" More choking sounds came from her as she dropped to her
knees, her pale face twisting in fear and pain. Wild panic shone in her eyes
as she mouthed that she couldn't breathe. Ranma gripped her shoulders,
unsure of what to do. Without warning, Akane lurched violently in his arms.
Her spine arched with her wide eyes staring at the cieling before slumping
backward to the hardwood floor of the dojo.
        Her chest was still, her blank eyes staring lifelessly at the
ceiling. Ranma shook her once, getting no response. Ranma's heart leapt into
his throat as he shook her, shouting her name. Finally, her eyelids
fluttered, the color returning to her skin as she took deep breaths,
greedily sucking the air into her lungs.
        "You okay?" Ranma asked as she rose to her knees. 
        "Yeah," she replied as she looked into his face. Akane's eyes
narrowed at the terror she saw there. "Is something wrong?"
        "I...I was... you..." Ranma stuttered.
        "Come off it, Ranma," Akane said as she rose to her feet. "We were
sparring, I tripped, then hit my head. I'm all right."
        Ranma's brain nearly crashed as she rose to her feet and walked
toward the door. Stopping at the threshold, she turned to him and asked
again if everything was alright.
        "Yeah... fine..." he said, still dazed at what happened. With a
quizzical look, Akane exited the dojo. Ranma knelt there, wondering just
what the hell had happened. Finally, he realized just what was going on.
        "What did you think, my boy?" came a voice from behind him. Ranma
whirled around to see the old man standing in the far corner of the dojo, an
almost sadistic leer on his lined face. Roaring in rage, Ranma leapt at the
old man with a flying kick aimed at his head. The old man seemed to just
disappear, Ranma's foot sailing through the spot where the old man's head
used to be. The sound of cackling brought Ranma around. He saw the old man
standing at the other side of the dojo, completely relaxed. Without
hesitating, he charged the old man again.
        Ranma felt several pinpricks of pain along his arms, legs and torso.
Ranma tried to move forward, but his body stubbornly refused to cooperate.
Looking down, he saw several dusky red feathers sticking into his limbs and
torso. He struggled futiley to move toward the old man, to rip his head off
his bony shoulders, but he simply couldn't budge.
        "HEY!" Ranma shouted, "What gives?"
        "Just teaching you a lesson, my boy," the old man said.
        "You did that to Akane!" Ranma growled, still struggling to move.
        "Well, the boy knows quality work," the old man sneered. "At any
rate, the moral of this little story is that I own you." Ranma's eyes
narrowed as he continued to struggle. "Akane's life is in my hands, Ranma,"
the old man said. "If you fail to uphold your end of the deal, I'll be
forced to take back her second lease on life on this mortal coil." Ranma
finally stopped fighting the paralaysis, eyes widening. The old man reached
behind his back, producing a black bundle. "You may want to wear this. After
all, we can't have you being recognized, can we?" With a disdainful toss,
the old man flung the bundle of cloth at Ranma's feet. He then casually
strode out of the dojo, whistling an aimless tune. Before leaving, he said,
"Remember, boy. Either Echi Goya dies tonight, or Akane Tendo dies. The
choice is yours." Once the old man had departed, the feathers vanished,
leaving Ranma free again. 
        Enraged, Ranma snatched up the cloth. It unfolded into a hooded
black cloak, with another rolled up bundle of cloth falling out of it.
Inside of the cloth was a map, with a certain section circled in red. An
address was written in red, connected to the circle by a line.

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

        The closer one got to the end of Nerima closest to Tokyo, the fewer
houses one saw. The small stores and houses of Nerima Ward thinned out,
making way for buldings of increasing size. The houses gradually gave way to
small apartments, modest businesses, and the like as one approached Tokyo
proper.
        The moon was rising steadily into the inky black sky, stars shining
like tiny chunks of ice. More lights shone this close to the city;
streetlamps, storefronts, and neon signs that cast their garish light on the
unyielding ground below.
        A black-clad figure stood atop one of the small apartment buildings.
A modest three stories, it was nothing when compared to the other buildings
off in the distance. The cloak billowed gently in the breeze as he stood
atop the roof, screwing up his nerve to go through with it.
        The hooded cloak reached down to his knees, the front slit open. A
black ninja's dogi took the place of his preferred Chinese ensemble, with a
small mask covering the lower half of his face.
        Silent as a cat, Ranma made his way across the roof to the fire
escape. Stalking down the metal steps, Ranma felt sick at what he was about
to do. He kept reminding himself that it was for Akane. He had to do it, or
she would die. Whatever doubts Ranma had that the old man could hurt her
vanished like morning fog in the dojo just hours earlier. After this was
over, however, Ranma would find the old goat.

        After a few moments, Ranma found himself beside a window on the
middle floor. Eyes narrowing, Ranma tested it. Finding it locked, he yanked
upward on the frame, popping the flimsy lock. Opening the window, he slid
inside.
        The interior of the apartment was nearly pitch dark, vague shapes
dotting what he could see. His target was here, Ranma knew it. He just had
to find Goya, kill him and leave. Easy and simple.
        Silently, he made his way through the furniture. The cloak, and his
silent movements conspired to make him almost one with the shadows. His eye
sscanned the darkness, for some sign of his target's presence. Taking a step
toward a patch of darkness that vaguely corresponded to a doorway, Ranma's
senses went on alert. He could almost feel Goya's presence inside that patch
of shadow.
        Apparently, Goya knew he was being hunted, and planned to go down
fighting. Eager to be done with it, Ranma lunged into the darkness. He was
rewarded with a surprised yelp as his hands closed around Goya's throat.
Twisting around, Ranma slung Goya out of the doorway and into the living room.
        Goya hit the floor with a loud thump, rolling into what may have
been a coffee table. Ranma slowly approached the moaning Goya, reluctant to
go through with it. He really didn't care what the guy was guilty of, he
hadn't done anything to him. The image of Akane writhing on the floor of the
dojo in agony and fear sprang into his mind, along with the old man's last
words. His face twisting into a snarl behind the mask, Ranma grabbed him by
the throat. Goya began struggling fiercely, but to no avail. Gathering his
rage, Ranma twisted his hands, causing the man's neck to snap with a
sickening sound. A low gurgle escaped Echi Goya's lips, and his body went imp.
        Feeling ill, Ranma made his escape. He had done wht the old man
wanted, now Akane was out of danger. Besides, nobody had to know.

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

        The obscenely large emerald sat on the low table in the center of
teh dimly-lit room. Various boxes and pieces of ruined furniture littered
the filthy space, the old man sitting alone on the grunge-covered concrete
floor.
        A low moan innsued from above, causing him to look up into the
shadowed rafters. A small beam of pale green light slithered through the
darkness, the moan turning into an anguished scream. The light circled the
emerald once before disappearing into it. The scream died into nothingness,
while a faint glow emanated from the center of the emerald. The old man's
face broke into a wide rictus, his eyes shining a deep jade.
        "Good boy," he whispered, "just like that."

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

        Well, that's it for chapter two! I hope you enjoyed it.

Jed