<Repost 3> Another in my series of Ukyo fanfics; third, actually.

Ranma 1/2 = (C) of Shogakukan

Comments are welcome! 

"Naisho"
by Webdragon
--------------------
                                  Naisho
                                 "Secret"

     If anybody were to step into the Ucchan these days, they would
see that very little had changed.  At least, on the surface.  From the
moment they entered, they were greeted first by the door drapes, with
`Welcome' printed on them in white letters on a dark blue
background.  Rules had changed and customers were now required to
remove their shoes before entering, to prevent them from tromping all
over the Ucchan's floor.  During, or after the process of removing
shoes, they would be greeted by Ukyo herself.  

     If one stepped up to the dining area, one would still see the
same imported wood chairs, and tables.  They were worn from much
use, but sturdy yet.  Forks and knives were still laid out on each
table, one pair for each chair.  Fans turned lazily overhead, moving
the delicious cooking smells all around the restaurant.  The aroma of
okonomiyaki, fried to perfection, still permeated everything, and was
seeped into every inch of the restaurant.  Then, invariably, the
customers would look down and exclaim with wonder at the Ucchan's
new floor.  Yes, Ukyo would say before the question was asked, I
have refloored the dining room of the Ucchan.  She didn't sound too
pleased.

     Moving on to the most important component of the restaurant,
the chef.  The sight of Ukyo Kounji, flipping okonomiyaki over a
sizzling hot grill, was still an everyday spectacle, no more out of
place in the Ucchan than the chairs, the tables, the cutlery, the floor,
the grill and a host of other things.  All these, and more besides,
were what customers noticed, at first.  It was what they were meant
to see, after all.

     What they were not meant to see were the tears Ukyo
surreptiously wiped away with the back of her hand.  The sharp-eyed
amongst them, those who actually took the time to watch Ukyo,
would see how drops of liquid diamond made her eyes glitter in the
fast-fading sunlight pouring in from the recently installed skylight
above the cooking area; they would see those tears for a split second
before they disappeared onto Ukyo's hand, to evaporate into the
Ucchan's atmosphere.

     Speaking of atmosphere, the Ucchan still maintained much of its
warm and friendly look.  That was one of the reasons why the
Ucchan was such a success - that, the excellent cooking, and its
beautiful and cheerful chef.  Except Ukyo was not quite as cheerful as
the regulars remembered her to be.  Personal problems, they would
speculate.  Don't interfere, they would advise each other.  Let her
work them out and give her some room, they would say before
digging into their okonomiyaki.  If only they knew the half of it.

     Did you hear of the wedding just three or four blocks away?, a
young woman asked her friend, who nodded back in turn and pitched
in her own views on this wedding.  It was supposed to be secret but
someone in that household leaked the secret for money, she confided
to her friend, who agreed wholeheartedly.  

     This was not talk but gossip, fuelled by curiosity of events
unknown and wild-eyed speculation.  It was the wedding, the
wedding, the wedding, that was the gossip of the female customers of
the Ucchan.  There was the need to know more, and they searched
for others whom they could ask in hopes of getting more information,
and they gathered in places like the Ucchan, or the Nekohanten, and
had a field day disseminating all they knew about the wedding.  The
gossip would center around themselves, but would be loud enough for
other women - whether they worked in the respective meeting places
or not - to hear and join in, if they chose to.  More than once, they
had tried to get Ukyo to contribute to the discussion of the wedding.

     If the fates were watching this happen, they would laugh so hard
that tears would fall from heaven.  And, indeed, the sky was dark and
ominous outside, promising a thunderstorm.  

     The recently married couple were hardly more than teenagers!,
the young woman's friend said, and the young woman nodded and
exchanged another tidbit of information with her friend.  All the
while the hiss of the grill and the smell of cooking okonomiyaki
wafted around and around the dining area, enticing even the most
chatty customer to order some food.  They were still chatting when
they walked up to the counter.  Ukyo smiled and greeted them.  Have
you heard of the wedding yet?, they asked Ukyo after they had
ordered their food, in the hopes that she did know something about
the wedding that they didn't know.

     Suddenly, unexpectedly, the rain began to strike the parched
streets of Nerima, and the heavens seemed to rumble with laughter. 
Ukyo blinked once, then twice, before answering.

     Yes, she replied after a moment's hesitation.  Yes I have.  

                                   * * *
     "Hello?  Is anybody home?"  

     Ukyo stepped inside the Tendo home, surprised that nobody had
come to answer the door after so long.  She checked her watch, a
digital.  Five minutes to three in the afternoon of July 6th, 1992.  A
blazing hot summer day outside, so hot that Ukyo had forgone her
usual black tights and her normal shirt that was decorated with
symbols for `good' or `love'.  Instead, she had opted for a pair of
khaki-colored shorts that reached halfway up her thighs, and a light
T-shirt.  A pair of sandals completed the ensemble.  Her hair flowed
free and showed as a light brown under the sunlight, as if reflecting
the bright mood she radiated.  For Ukyo was excited. 

     The way she held those two train tickets in her hands, with
fervent hope and sheer exhilaration, was one clue.  Another was in
the excited way she looked about, as if searching for something or
someone.  Her eyes swept the living room and the surrounding areas. 
There was nobody home.

     That's strange, she thought to herself, there was usually
*someone* at home in THIS household.  Even if it was the giant
panda that passed itself off as Ranma's father, or Akane's little black
pig, there should have been at least *something* here.  The only
living things she could hear were the birds chirping in the cherry
blossom trees out in the Tendo garden, and the carp frolicking in the
pond.  

     She walked uncertainly into the living room and she saw down
at the table.  A cool breeze made its way into the room, making the
Tendos' new wind chimes ring.  Those chimes sounded like bells, not
too deep yet not too high pitched.  Kasumi had made the right choice
in buying those wind chimes, thought Ukyo.  Then again, she always
made the right decision.  The melodies the wind played in the chimes
were beautiful to listen to, but they soon died away

     Her attention wandered as she waited in the living room, and
her eyes came to rest on the items on the table.  An open manga and
a bag of chips sat to the right of Ukyo and a work-in-progress scarf
on Ukyo's left.  Now who the heck would knit a *scarf* in the
middle of summer?  And make it look like a badly woven fishing net
as the same time?

     Answer....one Akane Tendo, full-time klutz and bad-tempered
tomboy.  Ukyo immediately felt ashamed at her thoughts.  Akane
wasn't *always* a klutz and Ukyo knew she wasn't really a tomboy
at all - it was just that her anger could flare up as needed.  And she
was quite forgiving, as she hadn't ever brought up the subject of
Ukyo's attempted assault during her first wedding.  Exploding
okonomiyaki, one of Ukyo's most secret techniques, had been used -
but only Ranma, who seemed to be a natural magnet for most things
explosive, had gotten the full brunt of the attack.

     Again Ukyo looked around, half-expecting Kasumi - or anybody
else - to walk into the living room and greet her.  Maybe even Ranma
would be the one.  The minutes passed by with agonizing slowness
and Ukyo's patience began to wear thin.  Where the heck was
everybody anyways?!  Maybe she could find some answers by
herself.

     First she checked the readily accessible areas of the house.  The
kitchen, the wash area, and even the bathroom.  Nobody seemed to
be home, although the front door was unlocked.  Heck, if they were
home, then they would have no need to lock the door, right?  If they
*all* went out, somewhere, then it stood to reason that they would
have locked the house.  Ukyo went to the foot of the stairs leading
up.

     "Hey!  Is anybody at home, at all?  Ranma?  Kasumi?  Akane? 
Anybody?!"

     Only silence answered Ukyo's call and she gritted her teeth. 
She was NOT going to be disappointed today!  She had gone to a
LOT of trouble to close the Ucchan down, on this regular business
day, and Ranma was going to go on a date with her, by hook or by
crook!  Her hand holding the train tickets trembled a bit and she
steadied it with a sharp glare.  Her very first date with Ranma - a
surprise one since she hadn't told him beforehand - in the two years
she had known him and she was already getting the jitters.  Can't
afford the jitters now sugar, she told herself.  Have to be decisive and
to hold nothing back.

     She was halfway back to the living room when it suddenly
occurred to her that they might be *outside*, either at the sides of the
house where it paralleled the perimeter wall, or in the backyard.  Her
heart pounding anew, Ukyo dashed out to her sandals and laced them
on.  Then she bunched her legs beneath her and leapt for the roof. 
The air rushing by her ears suddenly terminated when she reached the
apex of her leap, then it started up again as she fell to the roof, long
hair streaming.  In her excitement she had put too much power into
jumping and had overshot her target.  Ukyo landed, using a leg
technique to channel as much of the shock away from her ankles, but
it still hurt a bit.  She pushed the pain away and ran to either side of
the house, checking to make sure that there was nobody.  The Tendo
roof afforded a bird's eye view of its surrounding property and much
of Nerima as well; from what she could see the only place left to look
into was the Tendo Dojo itself.
     
     Humming a tune to herself, Ukyo took a running leap off the
roof and landed halfway on the little path leading from the house to
the Dojo proper.  She could feel the heat radiating from the stones
that made up the path, overcoming her sandals and twirling their way
up her legs.  The Tendo Dojo's door was just slightly open and, to
her excitement, she could see people in it.  What was going on?, she
wondered to herself as she stepped up to the Dojo door and peered
inside.

     Ah hah!  There's Ranma, she thought.  Why in heck was he
wearing that white suit?  She began to call out to him but, at that
moment, Akane made her way into Ukyo's range of vision.  

     The world stopped for Ukyo.  Train tickets fluttered from
nerveless fingers, spiralling and finally touching the ground where the
sun highlighted the words and numbers on them.  All was silent in
Ukyo's world, even though she could hear people laughing, chatting,
and crying, inside the Dojo.  It seemed to her that only Ranma, in his
groom's suit, and Akane, in her bridal gown, weren't saying a thing. 
Then again, she couldn't tear her eyes from them to look at anybody
else.

     Ranma and Akane tentatively looked at each other, shyly. 
Ukyo, absently noted that they were smiling at each other.  Smiling. 
A small grin creased Ranma's face while a timid smile peeked out
from behind the outskirts of Akane's veil.  Smiling means happiness,
right?

     She looks so beautiful, noted Ukyo with thoughts that seemed
not her own.  She had a flower in her hair, pearl earrings, and a
bouquet of flowers in her hands.  Her white dress, pure as the snow
of an earlier season, had frills on either shoulder.  It fit her perfectly,
and enhanced her natural beauty.  Ranma's hand reached out, and
encircled Akane's own, which was covered by a white glove.  Then
Akane closed her fingers on Ranma's.

     A bit of laughter escaped Ukyo's lips for no particular reason. 
This had to be a dream, right?  At any moment now she would wake
up, sweat soaked, from this nightmare.  Any time now.  Like the
many times she had.  Ranma and Akane couldn't possibly be
marrying each other, right now!  Besides, this was a Western
marriage, not a Shinto!  They wouldn't do a Western marriage, would
they?

     But Ranma and Akane began to walk towards one end of the
dojo, their eyes set forward and their pace deliberate.  Ukyo watched
them walk, and walk, until they were out of her range of vision.  The
door prevented her from seeing anything else and to witness more,
she would have to open the door further.  Ukyo's right fist clenched
in anger and now the tears began to flow.....and she turned away
from the Dojo.  And, with stumbling steps, she began to leave the
Dojo at a walk, then it quickened into a run.  And she ran, as fast as
she could, back to the Ucchan, back to her home and her life.
                                   * * *
     "Hey, Ukyo.  Your okonomiyaki are getting a little burnt," said
one of the customers in a tentative voice.  She had noticed the tears
rimming Ukyo's eyes.

     Ukyo snapped out of her memory and she apologized profusely. 
She flipped the okonomiyaki up and sliced the burnt portion off with
her spatula while the okonomiyaki was still spinning in the air.  She
put it on a plate and handed it to her customer.  It was takeout, she
reminded Ukyo.  Oh, I'm sorry, apologized Ukyo again.  She
wrapped it carefully in a takeout box and gave it to the woman,
before apologizing again.  Don't worry about it, said the woman with
an encouraging smile before she left, opening an umbrella as she did.

     There was nobody left in the restaurant, not while the
thunderstorm growled and snapped at Nerima with teeth of lightning,
since they had all left early in the hopes of getting home before the
worst of the thunderstorm could hit.  Ukyo got up and closed the
doors and windows of the Ucchan.  No sense in letting the wind and
rain inside.  She passed the time listening to the howl of the wind.

     With a glance at the sky through the skylight, Ukyo concluded
that the storm was going to be a long one.  It was already half an
hour to closing, so Ukyo made a decision and locked the restaurant
up.  She didn't even bother to take the `Open' sign back inside.

     Listening to her restaurant creak in the wind, and the constant
drumming of the rain on her roof, Ukyo slowly went upstairs and
entered her room.  Her giant spatula sat in one corner, her bandolier
slung on its handle.  It had only one mini-spatula in its pockets; she
had lost the rest in target practice.  With a heavy sigh, she pulled her
chair out from her desk and sat down, to try and do something which
she hadn't been able to do for over a week - write something.

     School books and business records were piled neatly around the
edges of the desk, leaving her a fairly large space in the middle.  And
in the middle of that space, sat a small, bound, dark blue book.  Her
diary.  With trembling hands, cold and pale, she flipped the diary to
July 5th, 1992.  Two train tickets, green in color with black lettering,
were nestled in the middle of the page, as if waiting for her all this
time.  One for her, and one for Ranma.  Or so it had been.

-------------------   
July 5th, 1992   
-------------------   
     Dear diary, I finally got the train tickets for our date.  They're
the indefinite kind, the ones that aren't postdated, and I hope to catch
Ranchan for a visit back home TOMORROW.  Oh, I'm *so*
excited!!   
-------------------

     Ukyo turned the pages until it was open on the date today, July
14th.  Her hand, still shivering, searched for a pen.  Her fingers,
cold and clammy, closed on one and she lifted it up, and brought it to
the page.  Its tip was a mere millimetre away from the soft surface of
the page, and it trembled there for over a minute as Ukyo tried her
hardest to put her thoughts down, to write something in order to let
her feelings out on paper.  She failed and tossed the pen over her
shoulder.

     She stared down at the blank pages of July 14th, 1992, her limp
hair covering her face and covering the diary and her desk with
mixed shadows and half-lights.  Then a tear fell from Ukyo's eyes
and impacted upon the paper, a drop of diamond for a split second,
then it disappeared into the pages and dispersed through its fibres,
making a water mark.  Don't cry dummy, she told herself.  Don't cry
over Ranma.  Never cry.  Be strong, in preparation for the day when
she would confront Ranma and make him see the sorrow he had
caused her.  Make him appreciate what he had done to her, and her
entire life.  Then she would move on to Akane and do the same. 
Friends no longer!  Friends no longer!!

     She shut her diary with a snap and slammed a fist on its cover,
the pain of the impact making her wince a bit.  She hit the diary
again and more tears appeared in her eyes, as much from the stinging
pain in her wrist as the burning pain in her heart, and the choking
sensation in her throat.

     This damned diary had been devoted solely to Ranma and no
one else!!

     Her fist came down again and a book jumped off the desk, as if
to save itself from Ukyo's growing wrath.

     Her whole restaurant, all of her hard work and effort, had been
all for Ranma's sake!!
     
     Another thump and a stack of business records slid off the desk
and scattered on her floor.

     Her whole LIFE!!  Practically every waking moment!!  ALL for
Ranma!!  And what does he do?!  He marries Akane!!

     This time she reared up and slammed both hands on the desk,
her hair flying wildly.  The diary leapt and fell, opening to its
bookmark - the two train tickets - on July 5th.  The rain crashed
against Ukyo's windows and the lightning screamed across the skies,
but the fury of the storm paled against Ukyo's own anger, her secret
anger.  Behind closed doors, away from people, she would let her
anger have free rein over her.  It was the only way she knew how to
cope with the pain.  The pain that gnawed at her heart with teeth that
hurt like anger, grief, and loss combined could only be temporarily
placated with her outbursts of violent weeping or violent anger.  

     "Hello, is anybody here to mind the business?" came a voice
from downstairs.  A man's voice by the sound of it. 

     Ukyo shot to her feet and her heart began to pound wildly. 
How the hell did he get inside?!  She had locked the door!  She
grabbed her bandolier and slung it on, then she took her giant spatula
and put it on her back, in its sheath.  Wiping the last tears off her
face she raced downstairs.

     An old man, white haired, stood at the counter and he looked up
at her as she came running down.  He was one of her regulars and he
went by the name of Takashima.  He was an unassuming person, at
first glance.

     "Ahh...Ukyo-chan.  If you're wondering how I got in, the door
wasn't completely shut and I managed to push it open.  It's still
fifteen minutes to closing, you know."  

     His voice was surprisingly strong for an old man's, and it was
still deep enough for him to pass as a young man, by voice only, of
course.  Physically he was thin and frail, like most old people, but his
eyes were still startlingly sharp.  They had a serious intensity to
them, as if he had seen much in his seventy years and not come away
unscarred.  They could dance with amusement if he chose to make
them, or they could pierce to the soul and lay one's secrets bare for
him to examine.  Right now, he just looked concerned that his
favorite restaurant had been closed early.

     "I'm....I'm sorry, Mr. Takashima.  I never figured that anybody
would come in at this time of night, and in this storm...."

     "One must never shirk one's responsibilities, and this restaurant
is your responsibility, Ukyo-chan.  As I had read it in a certain book,
`keep the candle burning bright, for one might never know at what
time the master of the house would come back'.  Or something like
that.  Except, you're the master - or mistress - of the Ucchan, not I." 


     He peered into her eyes for a moment, then he began to hobble
over to a nearby seat.

     "Y...yeah.  I get it.  But I'm already at home, Mr. Takashima." 
What was he getting at?

     "Are you really, Ukyo?"  Mr. Takashima leaned heavily on his
cane as he seated himself.  Then he looked back up at Ukyo.  "Tell
me, Ukyo.  What does this restaurant mean to you?"

     "It's....well....it's hard to explain, Mr. Takashima.  Would you
like to order something?"  Ukyo began to fire the grill up.

     "Yes....I nearly forgot.  A cup of the hottest tea you can get
me, and your most expensive okonomiyaki.  You pick which."

     "Are you sure, Mr. Takashima?  You've never ordered anything
more than a normal okonomiyaki, and.....uh...."

     "You don't think I can finish it?  Tell you what.  The finished
okonomiyaki will be eaten by tonight, if it's any consolation to you. 
It won't be wasted, I promise you."  He smiled at her and Ukyo
made her mind up.  She got her batter and her ingredients, then she
began to cook the best okonomiyaki she offered on the menu.  First
the batter on the grill.  She scooped out the batter with a ladle and
poured it.
     
     The batter went everywhich way and it did not expand out into
the familiar, pizza shape of an okonomiyaki.  Instead its middle was
streaked through with little lines of okonomiyaki batter and empty
grill, like a fishing net.  A scrape of her spatula and the wasted batter
was scooped away.  No problem, she thought to herself.  Only a
mistake.

     She scooped out a ladle full of batter again, and poured it on the
grill.  And she began to wonder why it wasn't already sizzling when
she mentally slapped herself on the head.  Of course, the grill wasn't
hot enough, yet.  Another scrape of her spatula and the wasted batter
joined the former in the garbage.  She waited until the grill began to
smoke before she poured herself a perfect okonomiyaki.  So far, so
good.  Now, her special recipe consisted of a mixture of seafood,
marinated in sauce for days on end, spiced vegetables and fresh
ground black pepper.  It had been an instant hit with her customers
when she had perfected the recipe and she had been inundated with
requests for her `Seafood Delight' to the point when she could cook
the thing with her eyes closed.

     The crab meat, lobster chunks, salmon slices and eel strips went
onto the okonomiyaki in perfect order, and she let the bottom fry until
she was satisfied - and she began to flip it with her spatula.  The steel
edge of her cooking utensil wouldn't scrape the okonomiyaki off the
grill and further effort only revealed that the bottom had stuck to the
hot metal due to lack of cooking oil.  Her teeth gritted in shame, for
this was the first time she had messed up while preparing food in a
long time, she scraped the now-wasted okonomiyaki off the grill and
tossed it into the garbage.  She just wasn't focused enough, she told
herself.  She just wasn't paying enough attention to cooking the food.

     "What's wrong, Ukyo-chan?" asked Mr. Takashima.  He had
seen Ukyo's red-rimmed eyes and had surmised, correctly, that she
had been crying.  And knowing Ukyo, it was probably over a boy,
since she seemed strong enough on all other fronts.  Now, it was
either that boy with the red umbrella, whom he had seen visiting the
Ucchan a number of times and getting free food, or the boy with the
pigtail, who also enjoyed the former's privileges.  He was putting his
bets on the boy with the pigtail.  Ranma Saotome, was it?  Wasn't he
living in the Tendo Dojo, with Akane Tendo, his fiancee?  And
wasn't there a wedding recently, at that very same address?  

     "I...nothing wrong, Mr. Takashima.  Nothing."  Ukyo couldn't
help but wipe some tears away, betraying the lie of her words.

     "It seems to me that....you're crying.  Over somebody, Ukyo."

     "No, I'm not, Mr. Takashima.  Really, I'm not."

     "Please don't take me for being born yesterday, Ukyo.  As you
can see, I'm well on the way to the next world.  I've seen a lot of my
nieces cry the same way you do.  Invariably, after I ask them, it was
over a *boy*."  He emphasized the last word in his sentence.  Ukyo
looked up sharply and her temper began to rise.  Who was this old
guy to poke around into her private life?!

     "S...so what if I am?  It's really none of your business,
anyways.  Sorry, but that's the way it is."  Ukyo turned away from
him.  Nosy old man.

     "On the contrary, Ukyo.  It IS my business, since you haven't
quite gotten around to cooking that Seafood Delight okonomiyaki for
me, now have you?"

     "Uh....I'm...sorry.  Here...I'll do it right now."  She began to
mix the batter but Mr. Takashima stopped her with one hand.

     "No, not yet.  I've noticed how you cooked my okonomiyaki, or
tried to, the first two times around.  You had seemed preoccupied,
unfocused, and...how you youngsters say it....`out of it'."

     "I...I guess so.  Look, what are you getting at?"

     "Don't worry, I'll come to that soon enough.  Answer my
question from before.  What does the Ucchan mean to you, Ukyo?"

     Ukyo paused and she thought about that question.  What did the
Ucchan mean to her, anyways?  First of all, it was her home. 
Second of all, it was her restaurant and her source of income.  That
was it, wasn't it?  But the look in Mr. Takashima's eyes told her to
search deeper, and to look at the Ucchan in a new light.  What was
the Ucchan to her?  She looked around at the fans turning in the
ceiling, at the new floorboards she had just recently installed, and at
the spot beneath her feet where her constant movings-about had worn
the wood smooth, and at the furniture, and paintings and rice paper
lanterns hanging above tables and shedding a dim, yet comforting
light.  She had personally designed the entire restaurant, and installed
everything by herself - except for the floorboards, the kitchen and the
grill.  

     She looked at Mr. Takashima, her answer in her eyes, and he
nodded in agreement.  

     "Second question.  How does one cook okonomiyaki?"

     Ukyo took a moment to compose herself, remembering her
father's lessons.  Then she spoke.

     "With....with care.  And love, lots of it.  The...the only reason
why I cook okonomiyaki, instead of anything else, is because...I love
to.  I feel as if I were cooking for my customers, and secondly for
myself."

     "Third question.  Are you at home, Ukyo?"

     "W..well...yeah.  I am, aren't I?"

     "That's not what I meant.  The Ucchan is your home, if I'm not
mistaken, but it's also your life.  I saw it in your eyes, back there. 
Now, in the light of my words, are you at home, Ukyo?"  Ukyo just
looked helplessly at Mr. Takashima, unable to answer him.  She was
at home, wasn't she?  Her life was in control, wasn't it?

     "Let me hypothesize.  The reason why you're not cooking so
well is because...you're out of touch with your love for cooking
okonomiyaki.  And since okonomiyaki is what this house is all about,
and considering that you live in it and live with it, you're...in a
way...not at home."

     This guy is scary, thought Ukyo.  

     "I can see what you're thinking, and....what's wrong?"

     Ukyo had leapt back and she was holding a hand to her heart,
which was pounding crazily.  Had he...just read her thoughts?

     "No, I can't read thoughts, Ukyo.  I used to be a very good
psychologist, specializing in therapy, until I couldn't stand having to
listen to people whine about their problems.  Also, because my wife
passed away when she was only 40 and I sort of lost heart after that. 
I've been out of practice for over thirty years, since."  He rattled off
the death of his wife like it had been nothing and Ukyo was suddenly
curious.  

     "Mr. Takashima....forgive me for being rude, in any way,
but....did you love your wife?"

     "Yes, I did.  Very much.  I was devastated when she passed
away.  Of course, that was over thirty years ago and I've gotten over
it for a long time, now.  Anyhow, I think that your problem is....that
you no longer love yourself, or your life, or anything in your life."

     "Wh...what?  I'm...I'm not planning on committing suicide, if
that's what you mean!"

     "No, no, no.  I never suggested suicide.  Perhaps I should have
said that you no longer have the same love as you once did.  I mean,
you used to love to cook okonomiyaki, but - recently - friends of
mine have been wondering why their food didn't taste as good as they
used to remember.  Maybe it is because you're no longer preparing
okonomiyaki for yourself, and only preparing them for your
customers, solely.  I've heard it said that the benchmark of excellent
cooking is the love put into its preparation."

     "Stop, Mr. Takashima!  I....I don't want to hear anymore!" 
Ukyo wiped her eyes dry and glared at the old man.

     "But you have to, in order to come to terms with yourself.  I
sense that you no longer love the Ucchan, and what people see is just
a facade, to maintain appearances."

     "S..stop!  It's...not true!  I still love the Ucchan!!"  But it was
not true, was it?, whispered a voice in her head.  And it sounded
suspiciously like her own.

     "The Ucchan is your life.  And, as many of my nieces have said
before, their life was centered around boys.  I suspect that applies to
you too, Ukyo-chan."  There was a pause.  "I....I think that this
recent wedding has something to do with it....."  

     Ukyo whirled on him, hair flying.

     "It...it has NOTHING to do with it!  NOTHING!!" she cried.

     "You have loved this Ranma Saotome, for a long time now, and
now he's married to somebody else.  You hate him for doing that,
and therefore you have lost interest in your `life', or the Ucchan and
all that it stands for."

     "But....."

     "Perhaps the Ucchan was the love nest you had built in order to
support a family...and now you think it was a waste.  Your life, your
home, your business, and your devotion.  You think they have gone
to waste and you hate yourself for not realizing that beforehand."

     "I....I....what are you leading to?"  

     "It all boils down to what you're going to do now.  Remember,
I was a very good psychologist and I can get down to the nuts and
bolts of many situations.  I think....you're holding your anger,
sadness and whatnot deep inside of you.  You're letting them stew for
a bit, then you're going to let them out on Ranma Saotome and the
other girl."  He was careful not to say the words `his wife',
preferring to use `the other girl'.  

     "But...."

     "But what, Ukyo?  Tell me what you're going to do."

     Neither one of them said anything for a long while.  The rain
still tapped on the skylight with insistent fingers, wanting to come in. 
Then Ukyo sighed and sat down on the chair behind her.  

     "I....I'm going to take it out on him, and Akane.  I've spent all
of my life for him....and I still lost.  Akane only met him for two
years and now she's his...his wife.  It's......it's just not fair!!"

     "Life's....not fair, Ukyo.  But nobody has the right to make life
more unfair than it already is for somebody else."
     
     "What...what do you mean?"

     "I mean....you have not the right to take your revenge on them,
to spoil their new and budding relationship, in order to fulfil your
desires.  I hope, to God, that you're not planning on actually going
through with it, Ukyo, for love is......a rare thing and should be
cherished, not attacked out of jealousy and anger.  If you do so, your
actions will come back to haunt you, Ukyo, and you will wish you
had never done what you did.  I'm sorry to sound so harsh, but that
is the truth and I cannot cloak the truth in gentleness or in a coating
of honey and sugar."
     
     Mr. Takashima got to his feet and patted Ukyo on the hand. 
Then he began to hobble towards the door, to leave.

     "W..wait, Mr. Takashima!  Where're you going?  You still
haven't gotten your food yet!"

     He turned around and he smiled at Ukyo.  He had already
gotten what he wanted.  `Food for thought' as it were.  He chuckled
inwardly at his little joke.
     
     "That's alright, Ukyo.  Maybe tomorrow.  Right now, it's a
little late.  Goodnight."

     "G...goodnight, Mr. Takashima.  And thanks."

     He didn't answer or turn around as he left the restaurant but
Ukyo imagined he was smiling a bit.
                                   * * *
     "Ucchan...?"

     "Yes, Ranchan?"

     Ranma pulled his little legs close to himself as he sat on the big
rock in the middle of his favorite meadow.  Sunlight, dappled with
shadow from the trees and clouds, washed down on the tall grasses of
the meadow and it seemed to bring out the heady aroma of summer. 
It was July, 1980.  A time when big questions rarely intruded upon
the lives of children, like Ranma and Ukyo.  But, the key word was
`rarely' and this was one of those rare times.

     "I...I need to ask ya a question."  Ranma fidgeted and kept
looking back in the direction of home, where he and his father stayed
with Ukyo's father.

     "Sure, Ranchan.  Anything."  Ukyo pulled herself up beside
Ranma and sat crosslegged beside him.  What did he want to ask her? 
Maybe he wanted to know the best way to catch dragonflies.  She
knew.  She had caught lots of them.

     "It's...kinda hard to explain, but all I wanna know is...if you'll
be my friend.  Forever, and ever."

     Ukyo looked over at Ranma like he had asked the stupidest
question in the world.

     "Of course we'll be, Ranchan!  We'll be friends forever, and
we'll be together forever also!  My dad told me that I would be with
you, forever!"

     Ukyo did not see Ranma wipe the sweat off his brow; sweat that
was not caused by the temperature.

     "Ukyo....if I tell you a secret, will you keep it for me?"

     "Sure, Ranchan.  What is it?"

     "It's....my dad and I are gonna....I....I mean....never mind. 
Forget it, Ucchan."

     "You sure, Ranchan?"  Ukyo folded her arms across her chest.

     "S..sure."

     The day passed by and Ukyo was commandeered by her father
to sweep the floor of their house clean.  Her broom, shortened to her
height, swept back and forth monotonously.  Sweep, sweep, sweep. 
It seemed like it would never end, for she really wanted to get this
over with so she could go and play with her friend, Ranma.

     She heard the yatai rumbling just outside the house.  Her father
must be moving off to town, to sell his okonomiyaki.  She smiled a
little smile.  Then there would be no chores left for her to do, when
he was gone.  Maybe she could get Ranma to help her finish her task,
so she could have more time to play with him.  With that in mind,
she stepped outside to look for Ranma.

     Hmmm....no Ranma anywhere.  The yatai was already a
hundred yards away from Kounji residence and she turned to look at
it, to wave goodbye to her father.  

     A small figure, in a white gi, sat on the top of the yatai roof and
was waving to her.  Ranma.  What was he doing on the roof of the
yatai?  Her gaze travelled downwards and she saw Ranma's father
pulling the yatai away, an okonomiyaki in his mouth.  

     "Goodbye, Ucchan!  Goodbye!" called Ranma from the yatai. 
Ranma's father picked up the pace, getting momentum up.

     Ukyo was not unperceptive and she could put two and two
together.  They were leaving, without her!  Ranma was deserting
her!!  She dropped her broom and started running after the yatai, a
sick fear settling in her stomach.  Ranma was deserting her!!

     "Don't leave me behind!!  Come back!!" she cried repeatedly as
she ran with all her might, after the yatai.  Ranma's father was
beginning to run faster, now that the yatai was in momentum. 
Ranma, too, had tears in his eyes and he waved even faster.

     "Good....goodbye, Ucchan!  I'm..I'm sorry!  Goodbye....!!"

     "Wait!!  You promised to take me with you!!  Come back! 
Come baaaack!!!"

     At last her strength gave out and Ukyo fell to her knees, still
looking up at the fast disappearing yatai, and the small figure in a
white gi sitting on the yatai's roof.  The sounds of the cart soon faded
into silence but she could still see the cart, making its way down the
hill road and finally disappearing over the next hill.  Her future life
had been on, and in, the cart.

     "Ranchan......come...come baaack.....", she whispered softly to
herself.
                                   * * *
     Ukyo bolted awake from her sweat drenched pillow.  It...it was only
a dream.  But, the strange thing was, the dream had been real enough
- twelve years ago.  She pulled her knees close to herself, her light
nightgown silky smooth on her skin, and she hugged herself against
the chill of the morning.  The alarm clock read ten-thirty in the
morning, Sunday.  Her business was not open until twelve, on a
Sunday, and she could take time out to rest, at least for two hours.

     She couldn't remember much of the last night, except for
staggering up to her room, changing, and collapsing into her bed.  In
any case, it didn't matter.  Every day was the same damned day, and
why should yesterday have been any different?  Something told her
that it was not so.  She shut it up by stomping over to the washroom
and brushing her teeth furiously.  Ukyo examined her face in the
bathroom mirror.  She had bags under her eyes, and her eyes were
red-rimmed.  God, she looked awful.  And her hair!  She touched it
tentatively.  It was limp as wet noodles and felt like noodles too,
since it felt so damp on her head and neck.  

     After a long, hot shower, she changed into new clothes and
began to make her way downstairs, slowly.  Oh Lord, she had
forgotten to wash the dishes the night before.  It was a sign that she
was slipping.  And the grill hadn't been cleaned since yesterday! 
With newfound energy, she quickly got to work and in the span of
half an hour, everything was sparkling clean.  

     Ukyo looked with pride around her restaurant, noting how
artfully the paintings had been placed.  Of course, she had placed
them herself.  She walked up to the door and unlocked it.  She could
hear the birds singing outside, which meant that the rain had stopped. 
Ukyo pulled the door open and she stepped outside, into the sunshine
and onto the slightly-damp ground.  Almost time to open the
restaurant.  She stretched and breathed in the fresh air of a new day,
then she waited until the clock struck twelve before putting the `Open'
sign outside and opening the doors and windows of the Ucchan,
flooding the interior with sunlight.

     Almost three hours passed and only the occasional customer
came in, ate his or her food, and left.  It was now five minutes to
three, in the afternoon of July 15th, 1992, a blazing hot summer day
outside.  Most people were probably out at the beach, thought Ukyo. 
Maybe I should go there today, she speculated to herself.  Not much
business on a Sunday.

     Two shapes filled the doorway and they paused for a moment,
as if to read the sign.  Then they began to remove their shoes.  Ukyo
looked up at them, silhouetted against the bright glare of the sun. 
Customers.  She sighed and she prepared to greet them as soon as
they stepped into the Ucchan proper.  They stepped inside, pushing
the drapes aside, and the words stuck in Ukyo's throat.  Ranma,
followed by Akane, walked into the Ucchan for the first time in two
weeks.

     "Hey, Ucchan", said Ranma in his usual mode of greeting,
waving to her.  Ukyo didn't know why but she was already looking
for changes in him, but she found none.  He looked the same as he
always had - same red shirt and black pants.

     "Hello, Ukyo", greeted Akane with a smile.  Ukyo looked
Akane over for any sign of change, but none were found.  She was
wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.

     "Ran....Ranma....Akane.....I haven't seen you two in two
weeks.  What's...what's been happening with the both of you?" 
Ukyo watched them carefully.  Almost simultaneously they seemed to
flinch at Ukyo's words and turn red with embarrassment.  

     "Lots...lots of stuff, Ucchan", replied Ranma.  He folded his
hands in front of him.  He gave every sign of letting Akane do the
talking, as if he couldn't trust himself to speak.

     It was as Ukyo figured.  They were just here to get some free
food, then they would move on out of her life.  Starting today, vowed
Ukyo, nobody got free food at the Ucchan.  Ukyo gritted her teeth
and looked at Ranma from hooded eyes, letting her hair hide the
expression on her face.  They were obviously not going to tell her
about the wedding, so she would spring a surprise on them and tell
them that she had known.  

     Damn it, Ranma.  I've devoted all my life to you.  This
restaurant you're standing in....it was all for you.  I followed you for
years, Ranma Saotome, since the age of six.  You were affianced to
me.  To me!  Why did you come back into my life to cause me so
much grief?  It's all your fault that I'm this way now, Ranma. 
*Your* fault!!  You should have told me that you didn't love me, that
you had no intention of marrying me.  No intention of marrying me
at all!!!  Playing with a woman's heart is a bad, bad, bad thing,
Ranma Saotome....

     She looked at Akane with something akin to hatred.  How dare
that little bitch come parading into her life, after two weeks, so she
could gloat on her victory over Ukyo?!  She probably knew all the
long that Ranma loved only her, and never Ukyo, and now she was
only back here to rub salt into her wound.  That....that bitch!!

     Ukyo longed for the moment when she could scream her
thoughts at them, ruin their happiness, make them feel terrible.  She
had to let them know how terrible she felt inside, since the day she
walked up to the Tendo Dojo, on July 6th, and witnessed the
destruction of all her dreams.  

     "Well....actually...that's what I'm here...with Ranma....to
uh...tell you about."  Akane fidgeted and sat down at her usual seat
by the counter.  Ukyo perked her ears up.  What did she say?  

     "Ukyo.  You just have to listen first....because it's very
important.  I'm not sure how you'd take it....but I....I figured that I
couldn't keep it a secret anymore from you, Ukyo."  Akane looked
even more embarrassed than before.  "Shampoo and Kodachi...I have
NO problem NOT telling them, but you....Ukyo...."  Akane looked
very uncertain of herself, as if she were about to tell a secret that
musn't be told.

     Ukyo was shocked.  They couldn't be....here to tell her about
the....but she had thought Akane was going to try and keep it a secret
for as long as possible!  

     "I...I mean...we, me and Ranma, got ma..marr...married. 
Married on July 6th.  It was a secret marriage.  Our parents told us
to keep it secret...so as to avoid the fiasco that happened the first
time around...as you remember."  Akane met Ukyo's gaze, but she
wavered and looked away.  "I...I don't know what you're going to
do, Ukyo, but I...I understand if you're going to get mad.  I...I just
came to tell you, and also ask you if we can still be....friends....? 
Ukyo?"

     Ukyo felt shame coloring her cheeks red.  Ranma seemed to be
watching her closely, with an expression on his face which she had
never seen before.  She thought she had already cried most of her
tears, over a week ago, but she could feel them ready to burst
through her dam of self-control.  She sat down on her seat, her face
still remarkably composed.  Long minutes were passed in silence.

     "Ukyo?"

     Ukyo looked up at Akane with a blank face.  Akane looked
almost...frightened of her.  Afraid of what she might do, now that
she `knew' about the wedding.  

     Ukyo did something which she had vowed never to do.  She got
up, went around the counter and hugged Ranma.  She did not let a
single tear escape, yet.  She held him with an intensity that frightened
her, as if she were bidding goodbye forever to him.  But that's not
true, she told herself.  The Ucchan will be open for years to come. 
I'm only eighteen and I still have many years ahead of me.  

     Her hands gripped the back of his shirt and she rested her face
on his chest, hearing the thump of his heart - which was growing
faster by the second - and his warmth.  She wanted to be nestled in
his warmth forever, never to let go...but she knew it could not be so. 
Her one and only love, Ranma Saotome.  

     Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him,
and she finally gave in and cried.  She wept for all the lost
opportunities and years that had passed her by.  She cried for the
cruelty of fate and how it had dealt her a bad hand.  

     And most of all, she cried for the secret she must keep inside of
her, the secret of her true grief.  She knew, somehow, that she must
never tell them of that day when she had her hopes up, and was about
to take Ranma on her first date...on July 6th, 1992, the day of Ranma
and Akane's second wedding.  She had no right to ruin their
happiness, for they really did love each other.  

     Because....the main difference between herself and Shampoo,
and Kodachi for that matter, was the fact that she was Ranma's friend
as well as his fiancee, and she was Akane's friend as well as she was
her rival.  Ukyo knew she had the potential to hurt them like no other
person can.  She knew they wouldn't be able to stand the sight of
their mutual friend in tears, a total wreck just because of their
marriage.  She knew they wouldn't feel good with themselves if they
were shouldered with the blame; the blame for making Ukyo a
shadow of her former self.  

     Maybe that was why Ranma and Akane came, to make peace
with Ukyo, to try at least to be friends with her, if they couldn't be a
fiance and a rival, respectively.  

     Ukyo dried her tears on Ranma's shirt and she disengaged
herself.  She turned to Akane, who had tears in her eyes, and she
drew her into a hug.

     "A...Akane....I..I want you to take good care of
Ranchan...alright?" she whispered fiercely, strongly.  This would be
the last time they would see her true self, her true feelings.  

     "I will, Ukyo." Akane held herself out so she could see Ukyo's
face.  "Are...are you feeling alright, Ukyo?"

     Ukyo wiped the tears from her eyes.  She knew she wasn't, and
she knew the pain she kept inside of her would begin to eat her up
from within.  She knew she was going to cry long, and hard after
they were gone.  She knew she would never write another word in
her diary again.  But.....she knew what she had to do, what she had
decided to do.  Ukyo let out a small smile.

     "I am.  Now and forever."
------------------  






	-WD
A proud participant in the Revenge's End Saga

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WORK IN PROGRESS : Nullifier 122, Part 4