Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first
published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North
America by Viz Communications.

Commentary, public or private, is welcomed.

Homepage at:  http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Bay/9758

Chapter 33 : Songs of Life and Death [1 of 3]

Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone,
The stedfast and enduring bone.
-A.E. Housman

     There was something bothering him.  Nodoka couldn't pin down
precisely what it was.  Perhaps the way his eyes would never meet
hers as they talked, or how the sips he took of his tea were 
small and nervous.  There was light piano music playing from the
speakers, but he hadn't named the composer.  

     "What's wrong?" she asked finally, after the umpteenth 
uncomfortable pause in the conversation.  

     Taikazu shifted in his seat on the couch and brushed an
invisible speck of dust from his pants.  "Hmm?"

     "There's obviously something bothering you."  A warm herbal
taste spread through her mouth as she sipped tea from her cup.
"Is everything alright?"

     "Just a little distracted this afternoon, I suppose."  But
his mild laughter was unconvincing.  Almost immediately, he tried
to change the subject.  "It looks as if there will be rain this
evening."

     "There could be," she replied neutrally.  Rain made her
think of Ranma.  Then again, she reflected silently and with even
a small bitterness, little these days did not make her remember
her son in some way.

     "Perhaps we should go out for dinner some night."
     
     Nodoka frowned.  "I'm not sure that's..."
     
     He laughed, and it sounded more genuine this time.  "As
friends, Nodoka."

     A glance around the living room of his house took in again
the expensive furnishings and the unbelievably complex stereo
system.  "You've never told me what it is you do, Taikazu."

     He shrugged.  "I'm semi-retired.  Used to be much more
active in the business, but now I leave it to younger men.  They
still value me for my experience, so I'm still involved quite a
bit."

     "What business?"
     
     "Oh, a fair number of them," he said, seeming relieved that
the conversation had turned to other things.  "We've branched out
over the years into a lot of different things.  The real 
expansion began after the war ended."

     "Ahh." A subject such as this made her uncomfortable.  
Taikazu was old enough to have been a child during the war, while
her only clear memories were of the economic boom that had
followed.

     Taikazu opened his mouth, perhaps to make some response, but
the sound of the doorbell ringing cut him off.  He frowned, then
looked startled.  "Nodoka, forgive me.  I entirely forgot to tell
you that an associate of mine would be dropping by."  

     "That young doctor again?" Nodoka asked, hiding her 
distaste.

     Taikazu shook his head as he rose from his seat and headed
towards the front door.  "No."

     Good.  She wasn't very fond of Tofu, from what she'd seen of
him.  There was something odd about him that she didn't like, but
Soun seemed to think so highly of him that she had not said
anything.

     Taikazu returned a few moments later, his arm linked with 
that of a pale but striking young woman in a conservative grey
blouse and skirt.  Nodoka wondered for a moment why he led her,
and then realized that what she'd taken for dark sunglasses were 
opaque and that the woman was blind.

     "Nodoka, this is Yoko Kontongara," Taikazu said.  "Yoko,
Nodoka Saotome."

     "I am honoured to meet you at last," Yoko said, and bowed
slightly before she unlinked her arm from Taikazu's and sat down
on the couch.  

     Nodoka blinked.  The words were odd.  "I am pleased to meet
you too," she said guardedly.  There was something about the
woman that made Nodoka dislike her almost instantly, but she 
couldn't for the life of her say what it was.

     Taikazu sat down on the opposite end of the couch in 
silence.  He looked very uncomfortable, drumming his fingers on
the arm of the couch with dull thuds as he flicked his eyes from
one woman to another.

     Yoko raised a gloved hand and minutely adjusted her tight 
bun.  "In another situation, I would make meaningless 
conversation for a while, but time is regrettably short.  Honour 
to you, mother of Ranma Saotome.  I have waited for some time to 
meet you in person."

     Tingling apprehension crept on spindly legs up her spine and
neck.  "I am sorry," she said after a moment's gathering of
thoughts.  "Are you another acquaintance of my sons?"

     "Oh, yes," Yoko replied.  "Since he was very, very young."
     
     "Yoko..." Taikazu began.  Yoko turned her head slightly and
he went deadly silent.

     "Why not make some more tea, Taikazu," she said softly.  Her
voice was measured and precise.  "Wouldn't that be a good idea."

     Taikazu nodded tightly and rose on stiff legs to walk out of
the living room.  Yoko turned her attentions back to Nodoka and
steepled her fingers together with a slightly smile.

     "Honour to you, mother," she said softly.  "You will come
with me now, won't you."

     Nodoka felt a full-body shiver ran through her.  Almost
without thinking, she began to open her mouth to say yes.  It
took conscious effort to change the words.  "No.  I think I will
be going home now."  It was rude, perhaps, but so was this woman
and there was something wrong about her.  Nodoka stood up, and
Yoko's smile decreased slightly.

     "Stop."
     
     Again, there was the arching tremble through her, the same
feeling that superstition said was the passage of feet over your
grave.  Nodoka fought rising panic and seemingly hesitant legs to
walk towards the front hall.

     "I said stop."
     
     This time, it was even easier to resist.  Hard to run in a
kimono, but now she ran all the same.  The front door would not
open, the handle and lock would not turn, and the blind woman's 
footsteps came from behind her.  

     "The bloodline runs thin but strong, I see," Yoko said 
quietly.  There was something almost like respect in her voice,
but an angry, brittle edge as well.  Not, Nodoka thought, a 
woman used to being thwarted.

     "Who are you?" Nodoka asked, making her voice as steady and
strong as she could.  She surprised herself - not a trace of the
fear she felt showed, as far as she could tell.

     "A mother like yourself," Yoko said after a moment's pause.
"Now," and she reached up and took off her glasses, "go to 
sleep."  Nodoka stared into what was underneath the glasses, and 
then promptly did just that.  

**********

     Akari stepped off the bus and walked quickly to Ryoga's
house.  Ever since he had left, she'd made a trip over here every
second day.  Her way of coping, she supposed.  Katsunikishi had 
been left back in his pen today - he was being trained for a 
tournament and the frequent trips into the unfamiliar city might 
have adversely affected his temperament.  

     Stepping from the tiny open-air porch into the front hall 
after unlocking the door, she slipped her shoes off and left them 
on the mat.  A sharp whistle as she walked into the hallway 
leading to the living room should have brought Shirokuro and the 
puppies running, but instead there was only a silence.

     Perhaps she took them out for a walk, Akari thought.  
Shirokuro was certainly the most independent animal she'd ever
known, but years of experience working on the farm had shown her
that even the most independent domesticated animal could grow
lonely.  

     "Shirokuro?" she called.  Once she got into the living room,
though, she realized why there had been no sign of the dogs.  The
puppies lay in a sleepy heap at the foot of the couch, and 
Shirokuro herself was curled on a cushion next to a slim woman
all in black who was slowly and methodically scratching her ears.
Shirokuro was breathing gently and occasionally letting out a low
sound of pleasure.

     Akari blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly.  "Are you 
part of Ryoga's family?"

     The woman rose, and shook her head.  Her long hair, done up
in a thick braid, bounced with the motion.  There was a mask,
such as she'd sometimes seen people wearing downtown when the air
pollution was particularly bad, covering the woman's nose and
mouth.  Or... something wrong.  A flicker, like a mote of light
in the heart of a gem.  The shadows stretched out strangely 
around the woman, pushing away or drawing closer with each step
she took towards Akari.  Flicker, and the woman's elegant dark
dress became strange and gloomy robes.  Play of light and shadow,
and the image wavered between light and dark.

     Akari took an unconscious step back.  The memory came all of
a sudden; tiny scars on Ryoga's face in the mark of four fingers, 
already healing and fading as he spoke to her days ago.  Yamiko.
For some reason, she remembered the name.

     The mask writhed in a way that suggested smiling.  A low,
grating laugh lacking almost any humanity emanated from Yamiko's 
throat.  Akari took another step back, and bumped into something 
that felt like a yielding sheet of winter ice.  Then Yamiko 
closed the distance between them with another step, and the 
shadows fell down like a veil all around them.

**********

     Water ran into the sink with a gentle trickle.  Light swept
through the polished metal of the kettle he held in his hands.  
Why was he here, he thought.  With a clatter, the kettle dropped
from his hands and hit the tile floor of the kitchen, sustaining
a large dent in the side.

     Taikazu blinked, and then memory came back through the fog
in a charge.  Not bothering to turn off the water or pick up the
kettle, he hurried back into the living room - Ravel played 
softly from the speakers - and from there to the front hall.  
Nodoka was crumpled on the floor before the door, and a tight 
fist clenched around his heart until he saw that she breathed.

     "Shouldn't you be making tea?"
     
     He turned slowly at Yoko's voice, and tried but failed to
meet her eyeless gaze.  "Tell me she will not be harmed."

     Hope sunk as Yoko shook her head.  "You know me better than
that, Taikazu.  It is not a promise I will make and keep."
     
     I will not let you see me weep, Yoko, he vowed silently,
though he wanted to do nothing more than that.  Why he felt the
need he did not know - he had done worse things than betrayal of
a friend in his service to her.

     "I suppose it is right to tell you," Yoko said.  "Your
grandson interfered earlier with us.  He had to be dealt with."

     Pain and grief shot through him.  "Dealt with?" he asked
numbly.   
     
     No more, it seemed, was forthcoming.  "He killed eight men."
     
     Brave, Tatewaki, he thought with a bitter pride.  You were
always braver than me.  He had seen Yoko's ways of dealing with
men, and a part of him hoped that his grandson had simply died.

     "Go," he said, trying not to make it sound like a plea as he
turned away.  Let them end this soon, he thought, for I cannot
endure much more.

     "I warned you to keep him away from us," Yoko said with a
sympathy that was surely false.  Why would she not simply leave?  
"You cannot say I did not do that."

     A long silence fell in which there was no sound, not even
the common noises of the street.  When he looked back, they were
gone.

     We can only escape so far from the chains the past has
bound to us, he thought.  Eyes fixed on the closed door, he
cradled one arm with the other.  My daughter.  My grandchildren.

     I never wanted to be what I have become.  He told himself
that as he walked back into the living room and turned off the
Ravel.  Even for yakuza, I am without honour.

     There was nothing, he realized as he slumped down into the
couch, for them to threaten him with any longer.  That thought
was somehow liberating.

     In his bedroom, he picked up the phone and dialed 
Yoshiyuki's number.  The kobun answered on the second ring.  
"Sir?"

     "They've taken them, Yoshiyuki."
     
     A pause.  "I knew that would happen sooner or later."
     
     "Yes."
     
     "I liked our informant.  Smart girl."
     
     Not a bright man.  But loyal.  Young and ambitious.
     
     "In our deposit box at the Goju Street bank is a sealed 
cardboard box with my name on it.  It is all the information I 
have been able to obtain on them in the last twelve years.  I 
don't think they know it exists."

     "Yes, sir."
     
     "Make copies of it.  Distribute them - carefully - to the
heads of every organization."

     "Yes, sir."
     
     "Perhaps one day we will find a way to bring them down, and
we will be free again."

     "Yes, sir.  Is that all?"
     
     "Yes."
     
     Click.  He laid the phone down.  From the top shelf of his
bedroom closet, he took down the shoe box.  In the living room he
put the only recording he never listened to anymore from it, 
his daughter's graduation recital from the Tokyo Conservatory, on
the stereo.  The audio quality was not good, and there was a lot
of background noise from the audience, but the playing shone
through.
     
     There is nothing of mine for them to harm any longer, he
thought.  I am too old and too weak to fight them, but I need not
serve them any more.

     There was Bach first, the gentle opening aria of the 
Goldberg Variations.  A Chopin waltz.  A few short pieces by
Ravel and Debussy.  One of Lizst's pounding, virtuoso Hungarian
Rhapsodies.  Then, finally, the Moonlight - Beethoven, the one
she had always loved the best.

     When that finished at last, after eternity, the tears were
rolling silently down his face.  What we shape within the world
survives our passing, he thought.  The flesh departs, and yet we 
shall endure.

     What have I left, he wondered.  What is my legacy?

     The barrel of the gun tasted of metal and cordite.  For a
moment, he hesitated, and then he thought again, I need not serve
them any more.  A crack, like thunder.  The hiss of an empty
section of tape running down to the end.  The click as the player 
shut down.  Then, finally, silence.

**********

     It watched the two men approach the gates of the compound
walls with glistening yellow eyes.  They paused a dozen feet
away, the shorter one barring the other's path with his arm.

     "Wrong secluded ninja hideout?" the taller one asked
sarcastically.

     "Quiet, Pantyhose.  There's wards all over the place."
     
     The taller one's face grew dark and angry for a moment, and
it took a visible effort for him to calm himself.  "Magic?"

     The shorter man nodded.  "Magic.  I can break them, but..."
     
     It watched.  It was crow, rat, snake, worm, maggot.  It was 
spy, servant, extension of power.  It had been but one animal
before.  Now it was many.  Its mistress watched through its eyes.
She listened to the two men talk.  When she was sure, she broke
the wards.  Hako was strong, but not as strong as her.

     The short man blinked.  "They're gone."
     
     "Too convenient."
     
     "Much too convenient."
     
     "So what now, old man?"
     
     "We go inside."
     
     The taller one sneered.  "Just walk through the gate, then?"
     
     "Nope.  Go over the wall.  And remember, stealth is the key 
here."
     
     No longer required to watch, it slitherflapcrawled away into 
the shadows, to set other things into motion.
     
**********
     
     It was not a slow rise from unconsciousness.  Not that, no,
not the lazy realization of self and the fade of darkness from 
the mind.  This was a desperate gasp into waking, like a swimmer
whose head at last breaks the surface of dark water.  

     Ukyou tried to cough, but there was a gag in her mouth that
tasted of cotton and sweat.  Wherever she was, there was no 
light, and she lay on a smooth wooden floor.  Her hands were 
bound tightly behind her back.  From the feel of it, her ankles 
had been crossed, and ropes looped around them and tied off as 
well.

     Konatsu.  She had to get free.  That was not going to be
easy, however; Kenzan obviously knew how to tie knots.  Ukyou 
began to work at the ropes on her hands, ignoring how it chafed
her wrists.  If she could loosen them enough to work her fingers
with more agility, then maybe she could get free.

     After a few minutes of straining, she had worn her wrists
ragged against the rough rope.  The blood helped a little, she
found.  It made the motion easier.  Her fingers fumbled clumsily
with the knots.  Hopeless.  They were too tight. 

     Something skittering on tiny legs across the floor drew her
away from her efforts.  Mice.  Then, as her eyes adjusted to the
dim light, she saw the murky shape was too big.  A rat.  

     Ukyou tried to tell it to shoo, but, muffled by the gag, her
voice came out as nothing.  Rather than obey, the rodent moved 
closer.  Its yellow eyes shone dimly in the darkness.  "Go away," 
she mumbled around the gag.  This time, it obligingly moved out 
of her field of vision, but the sound of its feet on the
floorboards continued.  With a groan Ukyou managed to move
herself into a kneeling position, thought it hurt her bound legs 
to do so, and turned her head to look at it.  "I said shoo."

     The rat make a squeaky sound, almost a laugh, and moved 
again away from where she could make out its shadowed form.  
Ukyou thought it was gone until she felt something touch the back 
of her ankle.  An involuntary cry escaped her, and she 
ineffectually thrashed in her awkward bonds.  An angry hiss 
escaped the rat, and then nothing.

     Ukyou knelt in the darkness for a while.  Her shoulders and
legs were beginning to hurt from the strained positions they were
in, but that pain made her realize that her twisted knee was no
longer bothering her.  Again, she tried to loosen her bonds, but 
the stinging pain of her chafed and bloody wrists moving against 
the ropes made tears come into her eyes.  

     Small paws again moved across the floor, but this time there
was a bright red glow that showed the rat.  It was even bigger
than Ukyou had thought, and it gripped the shining thing in its
teeth.  With obvious wariness, it moved in front of her and
dropped the object on the floor before her.

     Ukyou stared at the band of bronze with the glowing red
stone.  Shampoo's ring.  Thought it had not, to Ukyou's memory, 
been glowing when she'd received it.
     
     "Who are you?" she tried to ask through the gag.
     
     The rat gazed at her with unblinking, beady black eyes, and 
preened a whisker with one paw.  Then it reared up unsteadily on 
its hind legs and gave the rodent approximation of a bow.  

     "Can you understand me?"
     
     The rat squeaked in a manner that completely failed to
communicate anything.  Then it started to move behind her again.
This time, Ukyou did nothing.  Again it touched her leg, and as
she waited, gnawing sounds began.  After a few minutes, the ropes
dropped free of her ankles.  Ukyou let out the breath she'd been
holding.  She clenched her teeth as it clambered up her leg and
rested little feet on her left buttock to work at the ropes on
her hands.  When she felt the quick tongue lap at the blood upon
her wrists, she almost gagged, but it was over sooner than she
expected; the rat jumped away, and her hands were free.  
Gratefully, she pulled off the gag and tossed it to the floor.

     "Thanks," she said, rubbing at her wrists and ankles
alternately as she stretched her aching limbs out while seated.
The rat squeaked softly, then disappeared into the darkness 
beyond the thin red light the ring cast.

     It was suspicious, of course, as had been getting her hands 
on what Happosai had given her earlier.  But in the face of Hako 
and Kenzan, she would take help from anywhere. 

     Happosai.  It had slipped her mind in her efforts to get
free.  How could he help her in time?  He was in China.  And what
time was it?  How many hours had passed since she'd been knocked
out.
     
     And, she thought as she rose how much time did she have?  
She picked up the ring and slipped it into her finger, and had
almost reached for the doorknob before she paused.  There must be 
guards out there.  It wouldn't do Konatsu any good if she simply 
got captured again.  A short search found the light switch, and 
once the room was illuminated by the single dusty bulb overhead, 
she turned to examine her surroundings.

     It appeared to be a storeroom.  Small, with a few high 
shelves and little else.  Most of the contents were junk - empty 
cardboard boxes, rusting sword hilts and otherwise - but a glint 
of polished metal caught her eye on the highest shelf on one 
wall, a good foot over her head.  When she reached up, her 
fingers closed around the familiar wrapped grip of her spatula.  
She pulled it down, and blinked.  It was whole.  Hako had slashed 
it into two pieces during their fight, and now it was whole.

     Ukyou shrugged.  In a situation such as this, she wasn't
about to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter who it came
from.  Her leather bandolier of throwing spatulas didn't seem to
be there, but this was certainly more than she could have hoped
for.  

     She looked down at what she was wearing, and frowned.  The
kimono was light - for a kimono - but still not ideal for moving
quickly in or fighting.  After a moment of thought, she carefully
began to go to work on it with the sharp edge of her spatula.  
Too bad she had to do this, she thought with a faint grin.  It 
really was nice workmanship.

**********

     Tarou stalked along the peaked top of the gate as easily as
a cat.  Happosai led the way, easily as nimble, or even more so.
They crouched low, eyes searching the sprawling compound.

     "I don't understand," Happosai muttered.  "No guards.  But
with so much power..."

     "What power?" Tarou asked.
     
     Happosai paused in his creeping and looked back over his
shoulder at his coerced help.  "Some sort of ritual, I believe.
It's been going on for quite a few hours now.  There's a column
of energy, ki and... something else, running from the top of that
central building to deep underground.

     Tarou stifled a yawn.  He was exhausted, but there was no
way he going to show it to the old man.  Part of his training had 
been the ability to go for days on little or no sleep, but so
much flying with so little rest was taking its toll.  He felt a
dim pride, though - he had carried them from Jusenkyou to Japan
in half a day.  When he pushed himself, there was little living 
in the air that could match his speed.

     "She's here," Happosai said.  "I can't even get a vague
sense of her direction any longer.  I should be, but..."     

     "But what?"
     
     "Something's interfering.  Probably whatever ritual is being
done."

     "And this Ukyou, she's a part of it?"
     
     Happosai shook his head.  "No.  We need to get inside,
though.  I have a feeling she's there."  He dropped lightly to 
the grass.  Tarou followed him a moment later, and they moved 
like shadows towards one of the outlying buildings.

     I will get this over with, Tarou thought, and I will get the
Name.  After that, I will worry about anything else.  A vague
guilt had followed him since he'd agreed to help out Happosai. 
He told himself it wasn't just for the Name - that Ukyou, whoever
she was, needed help.  But he could not brush aside the selfish 
nature of his actions.  Perhaps he should have stayed.  And yet, 
something told him that this was the correct thing to do.  Not
simply for his own sake, but for everything.  Perhaps his role 
was here, and not at Jusenkyou.  
     
     Soundlessly, Happosai slid open the door, and the two of
them crept inside.  The hallways within the building were tall 
and narrow, and they passed by a number of doors without stopping
to check.  They turned a bend in the corridor, and passed through
a section of hallway where one side was entirely made up of 
glass-fronted doors.  It looked into a tree-filled garden where 
the leafy shadows swayed in the moonlight, and as they passed by, 
Tarou felt a cold shudder run inexplicably up his spine.

     Footsteps.  From up and to the left.  Tarou paused in his
walking as Happosai raised one hand in silence.

     "Back up," he whispered.  "Around the turn."
     
     They retreated on tiptoes back towards the bend in the
passageway, and snuck around the corner just as a red-clad
figure came into view up the hallway they'd been in moment's
before.  

     Back pressed to the wall, Tarou risked a glance around the
corner with Happosai.  "That," he said in a low voice, "is the
stupidest weapon I've ever seen."

     A broad smile was plastered across Happosai's face as he
ignored Tarou completely and stepped back into sight.  "Sweet
Ukyou, it's such a delight to see you again."

     Tarou breathed a sigh of relief.  For a moment, he'd thought
the old fool was going to do something even stupider than usual.

     A half-dozen feet away, the girl with the ridiculous weapon
grinned wryly.  "Damn you, you old goat, you actually came."

     Happosai chuckled as he walked up to the girl.  "Did you
ever doubt I wouldn't?"  Tarou followed silently behind, taking 
her in with his eyes as he did.  The giant spatula was weird 
enough, but she looked to be wearing the slashed-up remains of
what had previously been a rather nice kimono.  Some kind of 
blade had been taken to the sleeves and lower portion of it, 
leaving her arms bare, and her legs below the knee.  Her hair was
tangled and messy, and there were smudges of dirt on her face.

     "Does he talk, or just stare?" Ukyou said, gesturing at him
with her weapon.  The original cheerfulness at Happosai's arrival
had gone entirely out of her face, and she looked edgy and
suspicious.

     "I talk," Tarou shot back.
     
     She looked away from him to Happosai.  "Who is he?"
     
     "A protege of mine," Happosai said.
     
     Tarou scowled.  "I am not your protege, old man."  He 
glanced back down the hallway.  "Can we get out of here?  I've
got a bad feeling..."
     
     "There's no guards," Ukyou said with a shake of her head.
"This place is deserted.  I don't know where they all went..."
For a moment, the hard mask cracked slightly, and she looked
worried and scared.  "We need to find Konatsu."
     
     Happosai nodded.  "Ukyou, Pantyhose.  Pantyhose, Ukyou.  Now
that you're introduced--"

     His voice cut off as Tarou grabbed him by the back of the
neck.  "That," he hissed, "is not my name.  Not anymore.  You
change it.  _Now_."  Ukyou's face showed no reaction to the name.
She must have been good at hiding disgust.

     Happosai slipped free as easily as if he were water.  "Your
name is changed when Ukyou and her friend are safe and we're far
from here."

     Ukyou mouthed his name silently to herself, and a quizzical
expression came onto her face.  Tarou swallowed the rage.  The
taste was bitter.  "I give you my word," he said.  "Change it 
now, and I'll help you until this is over."

     Happosai snorted.  "Your word?  That and a nickel will--"
     
     "Then maybe you don't want my help--"
     
     "Stop it."
     
     The two of them glanced to Ukyou.  She was staring at the
ground, the blade of her enormous spatula resting on the 
floorboards.  Both her hands held the wrapped grip tightly.  "I
am going to go and find Konatsu," she said, low and determined.
"You two can help, or you can stay here and fight.  I really 
don't care.  I've done everything up to here alone, and I'll keep
on that way if I have to."

     Tarou glared at Happosai.  Damn the old man.  Happosai 
needed him a lot more than he needed Happosai - to help them 
here, and maybe to get them out.  The cards were in his hand.  
If he forced the issue right now, he might just win through.  

     His eyes shifted to Ukyou's face.  It was controlled again,
but there was a silent desperation in her eyes, wordless and
deep.

     "Fine," Tarou said at last, and it was not so hard to give
in as he had thought.  "But when this is over, I get my new 
name."

     Ukyou opened her mouth as if a question were beginning.  
Then she closed it and shrugged.  "Whatever."

     "And I prefer to be called Tarou," he continued.  "That's
part of my name too."

     "Fine, Tarou," Ukyou agreed.  "Now can we hurry?"
     
     "Wait," Happosai mouthed softly.  His eyes were closed, his
arms limp at his sides.  "Wait."  It was as if his voice came
from a long way off to reach them, through an almost impossible
distance.

     Ukyou walked over to stand beside Tarou and indicated the
trance-like state with a nod of her head.  "What's wrong with 
him?"

-Continued in section 2

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