There was a bit of a thread going around on the FFML a month or two 
ago about how writers get their inspiration, and while I was trying 
desperately to sift through all the mail, this story came to me.  
Ordinarily, I'd put myself in the camp of the dreamers, but right 
now, I'll take what I can get, ne?

Anyway, before anyone asks, I'm fully aware that Ranma 1/2 is set in 
the relative present, and is not a period piece.  Just humor me, okay?  
Thanks.

**********

How It All Ended... And Began

a Ranma 1/2 fanfiction by Ukyou Kuonji

all disclaimers apply... this is an homage, Rumiko-gami... please 
don't take offense

*****

They stood in the mingling waters of Jusenkyo up to their ankles.  Any 
hope for a cure had been diluted into nothingness now.  Shampoo, 
Ryoga, Mousse fought to keep the bitter tears from flowing, with 
varying degress of success.  Mousse stood stiffly, stoically... 
actually, it was more out of numbness than of machismo.  Shampoo had 
buried her head in his chest and was actually sobbing, heedless of who 
it was she was leaning upon.  Ryoga simply sat down in the water, and 
conjured up a series of small Shishi Houkoudans... he knew he had to 
get his depressed state of mind out in the open, but slowly, so as not 
to destroy him and the others.

Ranma would have joined their lamenting had he not been so preoccupied 
with Akane's well-being to concern himself with his own.  Only when he 
felt the relief of seeing her eyes flicker open did he allow himself 
the luxury of despondency.  He stood up, still crading her in her 
arms, and surveyed the swampy expense that Jusenkyo had turned into.

"Damn..."  There were to be no tears.  He was a man among men, after 
all; he would not let anyone see him cry.  But inside, he could feel 
the wail of despair coming from his heart.  There was to be no 
healing.  He would be half girl for the rest of his days.

He took solace in the fact that Akane was willing to be his in spite 
of his incurable condition, and, after a number of false starts, they 
finally married.  They found happiness together, after a fashion, but 
Ranma never forgot about Jusenkyo.  

He determined to obtain a plot of land there, and use it for a burial 
site.  "I died there," he used to say, "I might as well be buried 
there."  With some trepidation, Akane agreed to his plan, and 
arrangements were made, with Nabiki's assistance.  A number of the 
others also tried to go in with them on this acquisition, and in short 
order, most of the lower section of the Jusenkyo valley was in the 
hands of various Nerimans and Amazons.

In death, those whose lives had been touched by Ranma Saotome now 
converged on the site that had touched his life the most.  The flooded 
Pools of Sorrow lived up to their name as they became a graveyard, a 
memorial to those who had been cursed, and those who loved and hated 
them.

Time flowed by...

By the mid-1980s, Jusenkyo had become a vast, crystalline lake.  The 
graveyard was gone, submerged in the depths of the swollen lake.  A 
dense, coniferous forest had sprung up around its banks.  Nature had 
reclaimed the disaster area that were the Pools of Sorrow, and turned 
it into a picture fit for a postcard.

She had come as a tourist, a woman of means.  She was a great success 
as a writer and graphic artist, she had earned millions on her latest 
serial and all the television and movie rights that came with it.  But 
she was tiring of her subjects.  She wanted to work on something new.

She gazed at the lake before her.  Even thousands of miles from home, 
everything was discouragingly familiar.  All that needed to be done 
was to drop an old Japanese high school in the middle of this water, 
and it would look exactly like the set of the last movie she had made 
with her creations.  Nothing new under the sun, she sighed to herself.

Still, she was going to relax and try to forget about all that for 
now.  This was supposed to be a vacation.  She stripped down to her 
swimming costume, took a deep breath, and dove in.

No, folks... she wasn't cursed.  The mixing of the pools, the vast 
amount of new water in the valley, and the passage of several 
generations had diluted the power of Jusenkyo to the point where 
there was no physical effects at all.

But the souls and spirits would not be stifled.  The lake was clear 
enough that she could see the grave markers, several fathoms down.  
She could hear the voices of the victims:

"This is no time for fiancees, Oyaji..."

"Because of you, I have seen HELL!"

"Wo ai ne..."

"Xian Pu, I love you!"

and what seemed like a dozen female voices, all calling out one name.

"Ranma"

She smiled broadly as she broke the surface of Lake Jusenkyo.  
Rumiko Takahashi had her next idea.