A Ranma 1/2 fanfic by Mike Simmons.  All characters are property of
Takahashi Rumiko... Comments and/or malletings can be sent to me at
rustdragon@hotmail.com.
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Foreword:
Dr. R. Matsudaira, PhD

The following text was discovered in a folio of old papers sent to me by a 
colleague at the Tokyo University.  He had been conducting a study on 
historic masters of the various martial arts in Japan, and forwarded the 
papers to me as he thought I might find them interesting.  This one in 
particular caught my eye, being the documented journals and reflections of 
a master of the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryu, a very rare and little-practiced 
form of the martial arts.  I have translated this work from the Japanese, 
endeavouring to create as close and exact an account as possible.  
(Strangely enough, some of the people mentioned in the narrative bear a 
strange and more than passing resemblance to the modern works of artistic 
fiction by a lady named Takahashi Rumiko; perhaps she drew her inspiration 
from this same narrative.)  Unfortunately, the kanji which formed the name 
and signature of the author had been rendered illegible by the effects of 
time.  We may never know the true identity of this unique and historic 
individual.  

---
(NARRATIVE OF THE UNKNOWN MASTER)

	It's difficult to know where to begin.  It has always been my 
policy, both personally and following in the footsteps of those who have 
gone before me, to keep no written records.  Such a policy prevents 
potentially dangerous knowledge from being easily accessible to any but 
those deemed worthy.  It is a wise procedure to follow, in most things.  
However, taking pen in hand seems to be the only way to clear my thoughts 
these days, to drive back the inner beast for even a little time.  Also it 
takes a certain amount of worthiness in oneself to recognize it in others.  
I no longer have confidence in my ability to judge who is worthy.

	I suppose the cave is as good a place as any to begin.  It was then 
that my life began anew after---  Wait.  If things are to make sense and 
proceed in their proper course, then I must tell you how I came to be 
imprisoned in the cave.

	Ever since I was young, I was trained in the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryu. 
After three hundred years, the name and face of he who trained me has 
faded to a shadowy, voiceless figure.  Whoever he might have been, his 
skills were immense.  Each and every technique that I learned from him is 
etched in my mind, still clear and sharp, unmarred by the passage of time.  
A true master leaves no trace, and so it was with he.  

	Still, despite even my master's great wisdom, he was unable to 
keep me from the path I had determined.  A seed of perversion that had 
lain dormant inside myself blossomed quietly and secretly with each 
advance.  By the time I had learned all that my master had to teach me, I 
no longer possessed the right to use such knowledge.  I managed to keep my 
lusts secret from him for a long time, but finally he discovered my true
baseness.  A lesser man would have felt shock, or even loathing, but my 
master merely gave me a look of terrible sadness.  His disappointment cut 
me more than any words could.  With my actions, I had shamed us both.  I 
never saw him again.

	I wandered for many years, the memory of my master's sad eyes 
gnawing at my soul.  I no longer sought to conceal my nature; there was no 
point.  Each village soon discovered my perversions and shunned me like 
the plague.  I was forced to commit crimes, stealing food and drink to fuel 
my base lusts.  I often wished for the strength to merely lie down and wait 
until I perished from starvation, but I could not.  Time and time again I 
used my talents to acquire the objects that I craved.  The power that came 
from such things was an addiction, a beast that lashed at me, always 
pushing onward.  Eventually, the people would band together and cast me 
out.  In my heart I thanked them, but I knew that there were other 
villages.  And other crimes.  

	But one day I received a ray of hope.  Two young men came in 
supplication, as I myself had so many years ago.  Adhering to the 
time-honoured formula, they asked me to teach them what I knew.  I was 
surprised.  Surely, my reputation had become well-known.  Seeking my 
company could well mean their own death sentences.  I warned them of the
consequences of such an act, but they persisted.  The risks are worth it, 
they said, to learn from a master.  Master, they said.  My surprise was 
complete.  I had never expected such a title, and the simple joy of human 
contact was ambrosia.  I decided that perhaps, through instructing these 
two, I might regain a little of what I had lost.  Perhaps I might someday
deserve the name that they bestowed, unknowing, upon an undeserving fool.  
Master.

	Beginning as I had begun, the two young men slowly grew in their 
skill.  I began to understand the honour of passing knowledge onto the 
next generation.  It made the memory of my own master's disappointment 
even more harsh, for now I understood how much I had betrayed by my 
actions.  I redoubled my efforts.  If my perversions had to continue, then 
they would serve a purpose.  I brought my pupils along to witness my 
crimes, deliberately leaving them in situation after situation.  They had 
no other choice but to rely upon their own actions and what they had 
learned.  Their skills increased dramatically, but with that skill came a 
slow lessening of respect for me, a respect that faltered every time I 
broke their trust, or left them behind.  I could not divulge my methods
to them for fear of taking away the usefulness of the training, but I was 
saddened by their growing resentment.  

	Finally I resolved to test my new-found skill of my students, as 
well as their courage and initiative.  If they were successful, my crimes 
would be halted, at least for a time.  I had them steal several barrels of 
sake from the village we were currently camping near, and drained all of 
the massive containers.  My own years of training had given my body great
resistance to alcohol, but even this could not stave off the effects of 
such a large quantity.  As I slipped off into a dreamless sleep, I felt 
the hands of my pupils gently lowering me into a barrel.  Silently I 
blessed them.  They were good men, and would do well using the knowledge I 
had given them.  Through my two students, I had regained a little of the 
great amount that I had lost.

	But such a state could not endure forever.  

	A violent stirring of the mountain woke me from my slumber.  The 
need was a fire racing in my blood, stirring my sluggish limbs to action.  
My students had imprisoned me in a barrel with chains, but the explosives 
they had attached had shattered the wooden container.  Fortunately the 
thick timbers had shielded me from the effects of the blast. I tried to 
move the massive boulder away from the entrance of my dark, rocky prison, 
but my efforts were in vain.  I was too weak, having been deprived for a 
long time.  I must have remained sleeping in that cave for much longer 
than I had expected.  My body's resources had been stretched to the limit; 
if I was forced to remain there much longer, I would soon die.  Perhaps 
that would have been best.

	It was not to be.  The shaking grew fierce, and above my head I 
hear the rumble and clatter of falling rocks.  A landslide was happening, 
and secretly I prayed that it would bury the boulder so that I would be 
trapped forever in this eternal darkness.  Just punishment for my deeds.  
The clatter grew louder, and was joined by the sharp cracking of falling 
timbers.  With a crash, the boulder in front of me split and tumbled off 
down the mountainside.  Through the opening above, I glimpsed the soft 
evening sky and the forgiving crescent of the moon.  Crawling on all fours 
up over the small piles of rubble from the landslide, I tasted the air and 
scented the night for the first time.  It was beautiful.  Despite my fears 
that the old perverseness would soon return, I laughed, for the sheer
exhilaration of freedom was heady.

	Starving, I made my way down from the mountain and through the 
deep forest towards more civilized regions.  When I reached the town, I 
immediately enquired after my students.  After all the time that had 
passed, the future was once again in doubt.  I had no idea when the need 
for perversion would overwhelm my small measure of control, and I needed 
to create some sense of lasting stability before that happened.  One of my 
students would have to become the heir to the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryu.  It 
was a necessary sacrifice, but one that I would make gladly.  At least 
then my students would have some official recognition, and the knowledge 
which they carried would be secure.  A shopkeeper informed me that yes, one 
of my students was the proprietor of a family dojo, the only one of its 
kind in that town.  

	It gave me a flush of pride.  I hadn't been so bad a teacher after 
all!  At least one of my students had done well.  If he had taken up the 
mantle of teacher, then he too would have discovered that this in itself 
is merely another method of learning.  He too would discover the joy of 
imparting knowledge, passing it on so that it would endure, beyond the
fragile minds who carried it.  I wondered where the other had disappeared 
to, but resigned myself that it might be impossible to discover his fate.  
Several years had gone by while I slept, it seemed, and I had no idea where 
fate might have taken him.  Still, the two had been great friends, 
companions as well as fellow students.  Perhaps they had remained in
contact.  As I was occupied with these thoughts, the shopkeeper mentioned 
that my student had three daughters, the youngest just now reaching the 
age of maturity.  

	Daughters!  The sleeping shadow of lust roared to life inside, and 
the tenuous control given to me by hunger was gone.  I tried desperately 
to halt the feelings of lust and perversion, but after years of slumber 
the beast was not to be denied.  They say that an animal lurks in all men's 
souls, and he must be ever watchful in case that animal should escape and 
wreak its havoc among everything he knows.  I have come face to face with
that animal, and for the first time in the long span of life, I have known 
the cold icy touch of fear.  

H-------  (Here the signature was too deteriorated to translate.) 

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