Suicide Blast 3 part B

...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )

    "Doesn't he look so peaceful, Ukyo? It's just like he was asleep,
don't you agree?"
 
    "No."

    "Yes, the weight of the world gone from his shoulders. See how he
smiles, only happy dreams for him."

    "Wake up, Uncle. Wake up."

    "Awww, giving him a final kiss goodnight?"

    "Mommy, he won't wake up. Wake him up."

    "Now then, go and act respectable to your Aunt, tell her how much
happy you are that his soul is finally at ease. Such a contented
slumber."

    "Uncle?"


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    Ukyo swatted the annoying memory aside, pulverizing the  flashback
gnat with a rolled up page of the here and now. Childhood was full of
memories like that. Most often they were recalled while you were
lounging on a sofa, being interrogated by a man and a notepad. Of
course, there were so many quite naturally horrible things that happened
during the "wonder years". 

    There were monsters and fairies, strange, misunderstood processes of
the body, to say nothing of the immense joy laughing at something
caused, coupled with the incredible pain being laughed at garnered. Then
there was broken engagements and stolen okonomiyaki carts. Witnessing
a dead loved one and being lied to about his wakefulness was just part
and parcel of the whole kiddy combo, best tossed aside when adulthood
made its thunderous approach. After all, whole new problems have
suddenly sprung to life, demanding your undivided attention. All of this
had nothing to do with the here and now though. He sure looked dead.   	
  
    People shouldn't sleep that peacefully. Night-time a time of going
over past horrors and past shopping lists with equal fuzzy logic and
floating bunnies, the mind's vast storehouse of thoughts being dutifully
filed away for next week's scheduled nervous breakdown. Covers should be
sweated in, names should be moaned and fevered dreams should be tossing
pillows to the four corners... of the bed. Ukyo sighed, you could bury
him right now, and not skip a beat. This was just not healthy, you
couldn't possibly be this content and still remain above ground. Ukyo
considered the sleeping boy. 

    You know, curled up like that, when he wasn't shouting epithets, he
was kind of cu- she shock her head violently. Whatever he was, he
was also planning on annihilating the only person the young woman had
ever truly loved, feelings mutual or not. Besides, he was an idiot.
Even worse, he was an idiot with a tac. nuke in the palm of his hands. 

    She could end it, though; all the worrying, the preparation, the
eventual ending that seemed less and less likely to be a happy one. Just
one swift motion and it'd be done with. He'd probably thank her, not
that he'd ever be able to. Ukyo examined her combat spatula, the chef's
reflection staring back. Boy, did she look tired. Angrily, she grabbed
the tanto at her belt.

    It was a better choice for this sort of thing anyway. Caving a skull
in, especially one as thick as Ryouga's was a daunting, to say nothing
of messy, task. Just one little incision and; she might as well take her
own life afterwards. One night of salvation, dipped in the acid of a
single act of damnation. No, don't think about that, think about what
you saw, think about what that technique of his would do if it hit, even
came in close contact with Ran-chan. 

    Carefully, she opened the tanto and glared at her image on its
reflective surface, daring it to comment. The blade had all the look of
death, sleek and oh so lethal. Then there was the smell, that
unmistakable smell of bl- sniff, of bloo- sniff, sniff, sigh, of
onions. To say nothing of poultry, bell peppers, shrimp and...
it smelled of a meal, not a murder. Sighing, she took the "weapon" out,
walked to the kitchen, and butchered what life was to be had
from a peacefully sleeping piece of raw pork. 

    Effigies aren't really that effective, but they make for great
stress relief.

...oooOOO( )( )( )

    Ryouga woke up.

    The bandanna clad boy should have been in a cold sweat. Some loved
one's name, preferably beginning with an "A" should have been on his
lips. He sighed and filled his nostrils with the smell and sound of
sizzling bacon. That should have done it, a slumbering mind being
reminded of a dozen mornings past, awakening to the shining smile of a
loved one as they cheerfully took part in a ritual massacre. 

    There was nothing like the slaughtering of farm animals, beating of
their unborn, unshelled zygotes and the strangling of pesticided
produce, all so that you could have a break from the night's fast. That
or the unique panic one felt at the thought of sizzling pork if one were
in his rather peculiar position. 

    If only he had experienced a troubled nights sleep. If only he had
mistaken the humming woman in the front of the store for a girlfriend in
the kitchen. If only he could have blamed everything that had happened
the past few days on some horrible nightmare. If only he hadn't spent
the night in the all encompassing silence of a quiet mind. He tossed the
blankets aside and walked to the front. It just wasn't possible, not for
him, not anymore. 

    Dead men just don't dream.

    Sitting down heavily on a spare stool, he watched Ukyo make parts of
a well balanced, and well greased, breakfast dance about the grill. She
didn't say anything, letting the whisk of spatulas and the pop of meat
gristle fill the up the void. A moment later, a meal landed in front of
Ryouga, still sizzling. He looked at it and then back to her.

    "I don't have any actual mone-"

    "Eat it," she commanded.

    Shrugging, the lost boy tore in, letting the eggy, meaty goodness
work some trickle of life back into his body. "S'good," he grunted.

    "That's nice," she smiled, making another one. 

    Not looking up from his meal, Ryouga shrugged his shoulders and
continued munching. Neither looked up from their respective meals, both
giving the morning sustenance their full attention. A sacred silence
fell upon them both. You could almost hear Buddha, asking for an
okonomiyaki of his own. 

    "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?" Ukyo cried, stabbing the remains
of her food with a mini-spat. "You've got everyone scared out of their
minds, wondering just what's going through that empty head of yours!" 

    "You talk like this to all your customers?" Ryouga asked, a bitefull
poised a inch from his mouth.

    "You didn't pay, so don't try and change the subject," Ukyo
countered. "Look, I know you're upset about this whole wedding thing.
But it was bound to happen, Ryouga, sooner or later."

    Ryouga let his gaze wander about the shop. "You going to bomb this
one too?"

    "Actually, I think Akane wants me for a bridesmaid." Ukyo shook her
head, obviously not sure what to make of the whole affair.

    "Always a bridesmaid, never a bri-"

    "Don't," Ukyo glared at the martial artist. "You're not the only one
hurting over this whole thing. I mean, really Ryouga, even I- I
almost... I..." Unsure of how to begin, or where to start she looked to
the young man for some support. Feelings shared are easier to... well,
to share, or so they say. Unfortunately, they say nothing about what to
do when the sympathetic ear is currently snagging the last bits of food
from your own plate. "You know, you're not really facilitating the whole
heartfelt dialogue process." She glared.

    "Give me a break, Ukyo. I haven't eaten well the past few days and
being the villain is hungry work." After shoving the last morsel down
his waiting mouth, he looked up to the currently seething chef. "Yeah, I
noticed the new weaponry, a tanto... not really kosher though, is it?"

    "It has a history in my family, and quite a few uses."

    "Including suicide I take it? Man, you come up with an original idea
and all the sudden everyone leaps on it." Though his face broke into a
smile, his eyes were barely holding back the screams. "Poor pitiful bit
players, no one to turn to when the final chapter comes to a close."	

    "You should talk, you got your pig far..." Ukyo's words died a
particularly gruesome death on her tongue. Mentally, she made a note not
to look into his eyes... ever again. "Look, I've been thinking about
seeing someone, you know just to discuss things, get them out of my head
and off my chest." And I'm not a dangerous psychopath with a loaded chi
attack, she added mentally, "Maybe you should think about it too."

    "You've gotta be kidding. Besides, who would I call?"

    Ukyo smiled, she had been waiting for this. "Actually, your officer
friend...."

    "The guy on the roof?"

    "Yeah, that's the one, he left you something... just a sec, I put it
in your pack." Ukyo hurried off to the back.

    The sound of conversation alerted Ryouga to the newcomers. Turning,
he watched the young men walk inside, take seemingly reserved seats in a
booth behind him and continue to chat. Girls were being discussed in
that anatomical metaphorical way that only two young hormonal boys
could. He watched them, fascinated that somewhere, for some people, life
was still going on. It wouldn't matter what sort of demon waltzed in or
what new technique some newcomer martial artist brought into their city,
there would always be girls, always be a new game system to buy, always
be a new movie to see. 

    Daisuke was the first to notice they were being watched. It took
his brain all of a nano-second to take in the bandanna, well worn
clothing and well trained body. Of course, he knew he shouldn't be
staring, but you feel yourself not staring, so you look and then you're
staring and yadda yadda, big bar of soap. Besides, it was only fair, as
Ryouga was currently eyeballing him as well. 

    Hiroshi just continued on, his momentum having nothing to do with
whether or not he was being listened to. Still, his friend was obviously
stuck on something. He turned to see what the fuss was about, maybe Ukyo
had finally discovered Chinese dresses. Where Daisuke had had the good
fortune to see the bandanna first, his friend got caught up straight
into Ryouga's quietly raging gaze. Had he been of the four legged
variety, he would have most likely ended up as roadkill. 

    "Ry- ou- ga..." he mouthed.

    Ryouga thought for a moment, then smiled and snapped his fingers.
"Oh yeah, Hiroshimi and Daisucky, Ranma's friends, right? You guys were
at the field the other day."

    "Yeah," squeaked Hiroshi, "I mean, yeah, we were there."

    "We'll leave now as my companion has apparently been scared beyond
all puberty and the only rational thought I can come up with is diving
head first through a window." Face full of grins, they both began to
stand, Daisuke pulling his friend up by the sleeve. 

    "But you guys haven't had anything to eat. Come on, I know she's not
that good a cook but growing boys need to keep their strength up."
Ryouga gave them a broad grin that might as well have held dozens of
rows of nasty pointy teeth, as opposed to his two simple fangs. 

    Looking to one another, a touching, "I love you, man" passing
between them silently, they sat back down. Their nerves nearly reached
the breaking point when a menu smacked their current tormentor in the
head.

    "Who's not that good of a cook?" Ukyo huffed as she laid the menu
down and struggled to place Ryouga's pack on the seat next to him.
"Freaking pack, thing must weigh a couple of tons." She turned to her
new customers. "And what can I get you guys?" 

    Hiroshi and Daisuke looked to one another, then to Ryouga who was
currently busy opening his pack. "Ummm, the usual." 

    "You guys don't have a breakfast usual. You're normally ogling the
Amazon on Saturdays."

    "One of those flat things, you know, made from egg and ummm shrimp
and..." Hiroshi fumbled, begging Daisuke to recover.

    "An okonomiyaki?" Ukyo prodded.

    "Yeah, one of those." Daisuke smiled brightly.

    Sighing, she turned to her griddle, and went to work. "I just kinda
slipped it in under the flap. It's a card with his number and department
on it. He said he could get you in touch with people who could help."

    Ryouga looked inside his pack. There it was, right on top of
something wrapped in white silk, tied in a bow. He really wished he
hadn't seen that. Taking the card out and laying it to the side, he
carefully withdrew the package and gently unwrapped it.

    "How cute, a little china doll. Who's that for?" Ukyo asked. She had
a fifty shot on this one and she was more then past due for a bit of
luck.

    "Akari... she has this silly thing about... about china dolls." He
rolled the slight peasant woman figurine in his arms. Something about
the rugged, simple beauty had called out to him, while a shelf full of
princesses and ballerinas had not. He carefully wiped a bit of dirt
that was not really there, from its face. Then, a memory settling in,
he carefully set it in his palm, and waited.

    Ukyo hummed a bit to herself, something soothing that augmented the
rhythm of spatulas on grill nicely. The chef had gotten lucky; maybe
things were going to work out after all. I mean, how much bad could
happen in one's lifetime before the universe cut you a karmic check?
"Ryouga, I meant what I said. You have someone, someone special in your
life. Not something easy to find. For a guy who's hardly able to find
his boxer shorts on his own butt, you've really hit the jackpot."

    "Did you know I can't hold this thing for more then a minute?"
Ryouga looked up to the young woman as she tossed soon to be ignored
munchies toward her patrons. A small trickle of moisture gathered about
the young man's eye. "I've got to keep my hand perfectly still or I risk
fracturing it. You see, my hands are so strong, you see," he continued a
bit less unsure of every word. The last was barely audible. "The
simplest spasm... and she'll- it'll break."

    Ukyo stood there unsure, watching the young man pray silently to
himself. Daisuke picked idly at his food while Hiroshi, who had
forgotten to be scared (one of those things your learn at Funrinkan) was
already into his third bite. Inwardly, Ryouga focused on the small
figurine in hand, a small mantra dancing about his brain. I mustn't
stop, I must follow the light, the light that leads me out of the
darkness... I mustn't stop, I must follow the light, the light that
leads me out of the darkness... I mustn't stop...

    "Ukyo?" The sudden word broke the silence as chef jumped and young
men choked on poorly swallowed morsels. "Do you have a phone?"

    "YES! Ahem, I mean, yes, I got one. Just a sec, I'll get it for ya."

    Waiting until after the cook had left, Ryouga snagged a pen and
order sheet from under the counter and wrote on it hurriedly. He had
just finished stuffing the note into his pack when Ukyo returned, her
step more then a few inches bouncier. She set the black rotary dial
next to the young man and smiled at him appreciatively.

    "Thanks, now then, I assume you have a safe. Mind putting this in
there for the here and now?" Ryouga gestured with his newly closed pack,
extended by one arm.

    Ukyo's grin melted. "And this little nugget of joy couldn't have
been delivered when I was on my way to the back a second ago?" Still,
she grabbed the offered travel gear with both hands... and promptly hit
the ground. 

    "Do you need any help with that?" Hiroshi and Daisuke asked
silmultaneously with a frantic sort of eagerness.

    "I'm sure she can manage, can't you, Ukyo, or do you still need a
man around the house?" He didn't waste time hating himself for his tone.
He'd have more then enough reason to curse his very being soon enough.
Besides, it garnered the intended effect.

    After giving him a glower that would have set the average male on
fire, she harumphed and pulled the weight up on her shoulder. "No
thanks, I've had enough guy help to last me a lifetime, thank you very
much." With that, she stormed to the back. Well, limped and dragged, but
it was like a storm of sorts.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    Lieutenant Hiromi flipped another page in his book, doing that
reading with his lips moving that tended to drive his partners insane.
"Listen to this, this is all really fascinating... Hume believed that
suicide only limits one's abilities to do good for society, but being as
your only responsibility toward doing good is the reciprocate for your
benefit from being part of society, and those being dead receive no
benefit, you're under no obligation to do good... ergo, to live." He
smiled to his current audience. 

    His audience grunted and consumed another strawberry bun.

    "However, Donagan argues that this creed would logically lead to a
societal push toward eliminating people who play no role in said
society." Hiromi paused to snag a pastry for himself

    "Not a bad idea," mused his partner in bun consumption. "We could
start with the captain, then maybe my wife."

    "Ah, but then Beauchamp says that..."

    "Why are you wasting your time in all this philosophical jibber
jabber? I mean, this is all just western hooey. It's turning your brain
to goo. It's obvious this is a case of honor." The older man sipped on
his tea, noting that it just didn't taste like it used to. Anyone over
forty would have said the same... even had said liquid been brought
forth on a Tardis tea set.

    "So you think that boy is offing himself over some misplaced notion
of honor? He's ending his life to regain his dignity? I just don't buy
that."

    "That's because, you're an idiot and letting those books do your
thinking. A Samurai never committed seppukku for his own honor's sake.
His life was his family's, his daimyo's... he died for the sake of their
honor, not his..." A phone stopped him short, grumbling about how phones
never interrupted you back in his day, he snagged the line. "Hello?"
 
    Hiromi snagged the opportunity to consider the older man's
suggestion. If not for his own sake, then who? He looked up and saw his
companion gesturing for him. 

    "Hey kid, why you going to off yourself? I got a bet with Hiromi." 

    "Give me that!" The young officer snagged the phone. "Ryouga? Hi, oh
I'm SO glad you called. I've been doing some research and I think...
what?"

    "I said I don't have a lot of friends, it has something to do with
me being the gruff and unfriendly type. Now shut the hell up so I can
ask my new friend, being you, a favor." Ryouga sighed on the other end
of the line.

    "Oh, okay, uh-huh... uh-huh... oh... okay. I get you." Carefully, he
placed the receiver down and looked to the other officer. 

    "So, what'd he say? It's all about bushi, isn't it?"

    "We gotta go. We're going to need some rescue vehicles and a lot
more men. I'm afraid we have a shopping plaza to evacuate. Thank gods
it's early. Let's move." Grabbing his coat, the younger officer made for
the door. Not doing it for himself huh? Then who is he doing it for?


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    A yellow car sped along the highway, an empty silence pervading its
interior, only a single rhythmic sound, repeating endlessly. 

    Click click. Click click. Click click. Click cli...

    "Miss, would you please stop playing with the door locks. You're
driving me nuts."

    "I'm sorry, I'm used to traveling by giant sumo pig."

    The driver paused. Adopt, adapt and improve. "Ahem, that's all
right, you just hang tight. We'll getcha to Nerima, don't you worry." He
smiled at the petite young girl. She was really far too pretty to be
this nervous.

    Akari gave a slight smile, and then looked out the window, lost in
thought.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


     Ryouga placed the receiver gently down and then looked to the two
young men currently watching him, eyes wide in terror. "Now then, I want
you to go and tell Ranma I'm here. You understand me? Tell him I'm
waiting for him, got that?" After receiving their nervous yawn, he
motioned toward the door. Had they been able, they would have gone
through the wall, anything to get away from that chilly expression.

    Ukyo rubbed a few sudden goosebumps from her forearms and walked
back into the room. "Hiroshi and Daisuke find a skirt to chase?" 

    The young man turned to her, and the temperature dropped a few more
degrees. His gaze freezing her to the spot, she wasn't sure, but she
thought her heart had stopped beating. "Ukyo, let me explain what's
about to happen to you." A faint blue aura began to hazily drift
about his body.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    "Shouldn't we wait for Mousse to get Cologne?" Akane cried,
desperately trying to keep up with Ranma's leaping form.

    "No time. She's going to do something stupid, I just know it. She'll
hit him with that spatula of hers or call him a jackass and that's
going to be it." And besides, Akane, he thought, you didn't see Hiroshi
and Daisuke's face. "What the...?" Skidding to a halt, the young martial
artist scanned the scene in front of him. 

    There were ambulances, fire trucks, police cars, men in uniforms and
sirens flashing about. There were also people, a multitude of them, all
being moved about, herded somewhere, or, more importantly, away from
somewhere. Turning, he looked to Akane, "You stay here. I'm going to..."

    "No!"

    "But Akane..."

    "Look, if something has happened, you're going to be too busy
fighting to help out Ukyo, you NEED me Ranma. Sooner or later, you're
going to have to accept that." She crossed her arms in that feminine bit
of parental command that she knew so well.

    "Fine, hold on then." Grabbing the young woman, Ranma leapt above
the onlooking crowd, coming to rest on an ambulance. Another jump and
they were on top of a police car. The vehicle's inhabitants barely had
time for comment before the couple was off again. Please be okay, the
pigtailed youth pleaded mentally, this is all my fault.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    She could certainly never say she hadn't known what hit her. The
maneuver had been explained in finite detail and her assailant had even
given her a head start. It hadn't mattered. Sadly, Ukyo was not even
afforded a last thought before the blackness took hold.

    Ryouga winced as she made harsh contact with an unforgiving ground.
Placing both palms on the ground, he bowed low, asking once again for
forgiveness that he would neither receive nor in fact deserve. Shaking
his head, he walked over to her body. "I'm sorry, Ukyo. You were just in
the way, and I can't have anyone standing in my light."

    I mustn't stop... looking down one final time, the chef's tanto
caught his eye, the light reflecting of its golden tassel. Carefully,
he bent down and slid the weapon from her sash. "After all, you're not
going to be needing this anymore, are you?"

    The noise of the door made him look up. "Oh, it's you. You know,
your timing could have been better. I mean, in this sort of thing, you
really want the hero to catch the maiden just as she falls, her name on
his quivering lips. Now here you've gone and ruined the drama of the
moment. Guess she never could count on you, could she... Ranma?"

    "Akane, please take Ukyo out of here." Akane could almost hear the
cup slamming down on the table again.

    "Ryouga, what's..."

    "Akane!" It wasn't a manly howl of anger and rage. In fact, his
voice had cracked, putting a tearful desperation on the whole affair.
Suddenly, the boy was very small, and Ryouga was awfully big. 

    The hopeless void of Ranma's voice seeped into the very fiber of the
young girl's being, but she clung to her unshakable faith in her
fiance. Dutifully, she picked Ukyo up and walked out the door, closing
it behind her. Then, away from the horror of that room... she ran as
fast as she could with the young chef's body in tow.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    "So, finally ready to fight me?" Ryouga taunted, face ever mirthful,
eyes ever mournful.   	

    Ranma just screamed.

    Suddenly a hundred punches came from seemingly nowhere as chairs
and tables, booths and counter tops flew in every direction. Another
hand grabbed clawing at Ryouga's eyes, determined to tear them from
their very sockets. He dodged the sudden assault and watched as his
opponent collided with, and then through, the main grill. Then, a blur
of motion later and a kick made its way to his mid section. 

    It had been a mistake, taking the leg motion and wrapping his body
around the limb, Ryouga forced Ranma's body to the ground. There, speed
was less a factor, and strength, more of one. Only this wasn't quite
working. His assailant was nothing but jabs and punches, kicks and
spins, talons and teeth. The stronger youth blocked what he was able and
withstood what he could not but he was already starting to feel his
flesh burn under the assault. 

    Ranma's breath was hot on the lost boy's back. A driving punch from
Ryouga separated the two, but not for long. He had just enough time to
stand when he almost went down again, under a new wave of fists and
feet. And his aura, it flickered and danced about the fem-boy like a
wild fire, out of control. This wasn't the sort of flame you roasted
chestnuts with, this was the sort that would melt them.

    No, gotta concentrate, don't get caught up in the rage, he thought
to himself. Slowly, he began to dodge more hits then he blocked, and
blocked more hits then he took. A calmness overtook him, something he
had rarely known. Yes, this was it, this was the coolness that the light
offered. This was the soothe, the icy breeze that could smother his own
infernal heat. 

    It wasn't really that hard, Ranma wasn't that used to the
berserker's way of fighting. Sure he threw several hundred punches at
once, but all at the same target. If you dodged the blow, you dodged it
all. Ryouga could hardly feel the pigtailed warrior's battle aura now.
His cold protected him from the hot of... wait a sec, cold and hot...
the lost boy smiled.

    A step at a time, he and Ranma fell into a rather familiar dance.
But this time, Ryouga was leading.


...oooOOO(  )(  )(  )


    Akane stumbled out of U-chan's, Ukyo's limp form held with quivering
fingers. Her eyes told of a mind trying to process, trying to make
sense. When one's heart denies what the brain tells it, there's nothing
to be done but wait, and pray one of them is wrong. They both can't be
right... can they?

    "Child, what is the matter? What's wrong with your friend? Where's
Ranma?" Cologne approached the young woman, just as she began to fall to
the ground. "Mousse, catch her!"

    The young man caught hold of the two martial artists, gently
supporting Akane and Ukyo, concern on his face. "I think she's in
shock."

    "I can see that very well, thank you." The old crone caught a hold
of Akane's face and turned it toward her own, "Ranma, child, where...
is... Ranma?"

    That much she knew, that much she could reach out to, catch hold of.
Slowly, carefully the young girl let that one fact she did know guide
her from the internal turmoil. A war was being waged between heart and
soul, and no one was winning. "He's... he's in U-chan's... with... with
Ryouga."

    Cologne looked to the shop. Reality has a way of silencing itself,
giving you time to listen to your own ragged breath, letting you get
acquainted with your own heartbeat. Maybe it was holding its own
breath, maybe it was simply clearing the way for the din to come, maybe
it had its own dramatic sensibility... whatever. All the ancient Amazon
heard was the faint rumbling of a coming storm. Then...

    The glass pressed against the panes, the door sheet rippled and
strained against its holdings, and chairs began to dance about the
interior. Someone had opened up a tempest in a tea shop, and it was
paying the price. Bits of furniture shot from the open door, crashing
into a heap of rubble outside the shop, the windows began to crack from
the pressure and the storm raged on. 

    Finally, structural integrity could hold the raging wind back no
more. Shards of building, rubble of what was once a place of business,
bits and pieces of what could have been a life all exploded at once,
hurtling through the air, destroying anything unfortunate enough to be
in their path.

    When a home blows like this, there's nothing to do but take cover
and pray it'll be over soon. Memories make for interesting shrapnel.

    Carried by the force of the cataclysm, a human body flew from the
blast point. A faint red aura could be detected as it made rather harsh
contact with the wall opposite the shop, imbedding itself deep in the
concrete mesh. Cologne sheilded Akane's head from behind their makeshift
cover. She knew well the aura, knew even more what the torrent had
heralded... the boy had lost his control, lost his cool, and had paid
the price. Please Goddess, let that price not be too steep.

    "Well, Ranma, I have to say, that was awfully therapeutic. Care for
another go?" Ryouga smiled, dusting himself off of ruined plaster and
bits of okonomiyaki. His smile only broadened as a faint rumbling made
its presence known.

    Ranma slowly stepped from the crash zone, his aura throbbing as he
slowly turned to his attacker. The white concrete mixed oddly with the
reddish blood and purple welts that seeped through broken bits of skin.
But pain was somebody's else's problem. Red flared again, dancing about
his body like a bonfire. His own private ritual to the carnage about to
take place. "Shut up and fight."

    Chuckling, Ryouga removed his over shirt and adjusted his bandanna.
A chilling blue aura set his hair to fly about in wild, unkempt wisps.
"Now that's the way to do it." Knuckles cracked, muscles flexed and
stances were adopted. The lost boy paused, an old manga line tickling
the back of his memory. "Why don't you an' me go at it like wild men
until we make it rain blood?" 

    He could feel the light now, and it vividly approved.

    "Aaaaahhhhh!" Like a ball of pure rage, the fireball of Ranma's form
lunged at his tormentor, only to be met by an icy blast of blue as
Ryouga collided with him in mid clash.

    BOOM!


The End of Part Three

To be continued of course...

Ending song: "M.A.S.H." Theme song, "Suicide is Painless"

Suicide is painless,
It brings so many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please,

Paraphrased Neitszche (I think) "the thought of suicide is a great
comfort, it has kept many a man company through many a long dark night."