Preamble.
Once again here is chapter 4 of my series - the original having
emerged on the website on Christmas Day. Thanks to all for the
constant support, and I hope my work lives up to standard.



And now, on to





Way of the Ninjitsu.


A Fanfiction by Jason Wong.
Inspired by Ruminko Takahashi's
Ranma 1/2.





Chapter 4. Seven are chosen.

Winter struck heavily this far north in Hokkaido, especially where the
House was halfway up Yamakaro Mountain. And this winter was no
exception - at its height snow was a common occurrence - layering
the landscape with a blanket of glistening white. Shinkasa Kagora
was making his way to the food hall, clad in a soft woolen overrobe to
check on the white bandanna trainees, when a quiet cough caused
him to turn. "Spymaster Misho, is there something I can do for you?"

The lady merely handed him a typed fax sheet. "I received this a few
minutes ago from our contact post down south in Kyoto. They
received another request for information by the Kuonji Clan, along
with a healthy dose of funds."

Silently Kagora read the copy of Kuonji Harakuna's polite request for
the services of the Shinkasa to locate one Saotome Genma and his
son, Ranma. He raised eyebrows at the promised reward.

"As you can see it is largely the money from the Kuonjis which keep
our holdings in Kyoto afloat. Added to that is the fact that the Kuonji
clan is very influential in that area - they head a league of
okonomiyaki restaurants as well as shepherding much of the
business there. Displeasing Harakuna can be....inconvenient."

The ninja master summarised, "In other words you want to offer him
something to keep them occupied, so as to keep everybody happy,
and the money flowing in?"

Misho smiled thinly, "That's about right."

"Well, as far as I know *Saotome* Genma is currently unoccupied -
though knowledge of that sort is more your department." Kagora's
enigmatic glint revealed what he was thinking.

As if on cue, the spymaster withdrew another sheet.


# # # # #

       Report No. FHL60755

               Name: SAOTOME Genma
Date of compilation: 19/7/95
              Query: Current Location
           Response: Tokyo, Nerima Ward, 343-05-17

Information provided by Mazami Tokai - MTK.SC.104

# # # # #


"Our information network has really modernised to the computer
times under your supervision", Kagora murmured, obviously
impressed, "although I am leery of all our Clan members being
reduced to mere letters and numbers."

Grinning, Misho responded, "It helps us keep track of everybody,
Master Ess Kay Gee dot Enn Emm dot oh oh wun." She smirked at
his exasperated glare.

"That's Master *Kagora*, and I'll thank you to keep your computer
jargon to yourself." Returning from his brief moment of amusement,
he added, "If you were so prepared to direct the Kuonjis to our old
friend Genma, then why consult myself first?" Technically, the
spymaster was of equal rank to the old ninja master and thus did not
require his permission to work within her own department.

"Well, presumably depending on how Harakuna chooses to.'deal'
with his problem - it might be passed on to him that Genma's son just
happens to live with a certain Shinkasa Clan. Since Ranma is your
charge I considered it prudent to warn you of the possible
complications."

Kagora waved away her unvoiced concerns. "Send the appropriate
message to Kuonji Harakuna. If he finds out about us and Ranma
then he finds out. We'll deal with the implications as they arrive."

"As you wish, but be it on your head if anything goes wrong." Misho
departed without awaiting a response.

The Shinkasa master was left grimly considering the possible
outcomes of Saotome Genma's re-acquaintance with old enemies.
He noted that whatever they were, he wouldn't be burdened by an
ounce of regret. *Father was right, age does salt you of sympathy.*
And briefly this old man wondered whether ruthlessness was such a
necessary attribute.


************
************


"Alright Ranma, let's do this again." Lano crouched defensively
before his opponent. Ranma's only response was to tighten the grip
on his wooden bokkens. For long moments the two simply stood
unmoving - each awaiting patiently for the other to make the first
move.

Meyah, their current supervisor looked on bemusedly as the two
settled into a somewhat fruitless staring match - years of training
together unfortunately had resulted in their styles coalescing with
each other - and both were of the opinion that it was far more
advantageous to let the enemy strike first in a sparring match.

Finally, Lano gave in and tested his opponent's defence with a light
fore swing using his chosen weapon, the bo-staff. Predictably the
staff tip reached its designated target an instant too late, and Ranma
was in addition returning a swift double bladed slash, straight from
his mother's own style. Like his sensei, the pigtailed ninja had eagerly
adopted the employment of dual katanas for battle - beginning
training in the specialised art two years after having taken to
weapons (of course that was perfectly fine with mother).

The observing master took the moment to reflect upon her battling
son. Ranma had grown much in the past years - good food and
constant exercise having developed him into fine handsome man. As
always he still sported that pigtail - now almost a foot in length, along
with the jet silken Chinese shirt and kung fu pants. Indeed, to his
mother's eyes the only effect of time was that everything had
increased proportionally in size. Analysing his fighting style had
proved no small headache for his tutors - it formed a very fine
integration of Kagora's short range grappling, an adoption of Meyah's
swordsmanship and shiatsu, even some of Lano's regional tae kwon
do, and of course - Anything Goes.

Returning to the duel before her, Meyah winced as Ranma's five point
spin kick managed to connect with Lano's lower jaw. That would
certainly leave a bruise. Holding his mouth tenderly the Korean angrily
protested, "HEY! That's *my* move!"

Mildly amused, the alleged plagariser commented, "And where is it
written that 'Lano's special kicks' are patented unto himself?"

Playfully infuriated the teenager flipped himself to upright position,
resisting the temptation to respond with one of Ranma's more
personal Anything Goes flying combinations by way of retaliation - it
was too predictable to rise to the barb. Instead using his staff for a
prop, the Korean launched a rapid fire series of twisting foot
punches, hoping to dislodge the whirling bokkens.

Ranma knew better than to try to break through Lano's fancy footwork
- a single kick could temporarily disable a limb. Instead, he chose to
retreat in a reverse back leap, keeping swords directed to counter
the expected offensive. A two fingered jab from the hilt, three kicks, a
ground slide dragon sword strike and the pigtailed ninja was again
on the upper hand. Lano cautiously receded, bo-staff rapidly stabbing
to keep his partner fighting from a distance.

And from without, Meyah continued to observe impassionately. "Lano
reverse your hold, you'll have a better grip...and Ranma stop
swatting - your katana is an extension of your arm - not a baseball
bat." Silently she noticed that another master had joined her in the
spectacle.

With a tinge of gruffness Kinaro mentioned, "Every time I show my
student a new combination to employ in the next duel - I find out that
you and your father have taught your own prot�g� a counter to that
move plus another three forms. The repetition is getting damned
annoying I tell you."

The swordmaster smiled at the man's mock frustration. "It's alright -
young Lano doesn't take the defeats personally - he accepts that
Ranma is his better, and appreciates the challenge."

"You'd better watch out swordmaster, or your son might get cocky
with all those victories."

"At least once a day, either Master Kagora or myself have a sparring
match with Ranma to remind him of where his skills lie in the grander
scheme of things." Absently she rubbed at a fading bruise which
formed a narrow discolouration along her left waist. "Although it gets
harder these days to beat him without reverting to special
techniques."

As if in agreement Kinaro pointed to a reddening dent on his own left
temple - courtesy of a stray punch from a bo-staff. "Ahhh, the pain we
masters must endure for the sake of Ninjitsu."

Wryly, she commented, "Your bemoaning fools nobody - least of all
Lano. He knows you take pride in every strike that breaks through
your defence."

"Aie that is so, but that doesn't make the pain any more bearable."

Meyah had to laugh at that. Silently they continued to study the
vigorous battle playing out in the flat yard. In accordance with their
respective master's style regimens, the physique of each trainee had
developed in their own course through natural growth into adult
bodies. Unlike the conventional build of most Shinkasa ninjas,
Kinaro's form tended toward the compact and stocky - his torso
graced with a powerful barrel chest and huge shoulder muscles which
were a credit to his being the uncontestedly strongest member of the
house. Decades of constant exercise with the entire range of
weapons available to the Clan - including those that in reality had little
practical application to the modern scenario (some were far too
obvious to be toting around) had been the founder of such power.

As well, their effect had been manifested somewhat in Kinaro's
kohai. Lano's own shoulders had broadened considerably with
growth - transforming him from the rangy, skinny young boy into a
heavier set teenager. Years of consistent training against a speed
fighter such as Ranma had offset the body building development
somewhat - so the Korean maintained a credible level of swiftness.
Indeed that was perhaps the greatest materialisation of his sparring
matches with the Anything Goes Practitioner - a manifold increase of
velocity and dexterity which were lacking in his otherwise untempered
natural style.

Similarly, the pigtailed ninja had attained a complex mix of styles
which shaped his body - although he tended towards the more
slender - a compromise between Meyah's dancer's litheness,
Kagora's aestheticism, and the speed and endurance maneuvers of
Anything Goes. Exchange of skill forms with Lano had improved
certain aspects of his personal style - most notably the unarmed kicks
and flying kicks which had been adopted from the Korean regional
Tae Kwon Do. Surprisingly perhaps, his friend had provided a great
boost in the more basic of principles - showing how Ranma could
improve the hitting power of individual strikes, especially the usage of
the palm strike.

Such valuable exchanges of ideas were greatly appreciated by both
the dedicated combat artists.

Kinaro sighed wearily as a series of painfully heavy slaps generated
by high speed wood striking flesh pronounced the conclusion of the
duel. Lano groggily picked himself from the ground. "I think that
makes victory number one thousand and..." he paused whilst
consulting a very well-worn notepad, ".forty six. I now only
have..let's see.. seven hundred and fifty-nine.no make that
fifty-eight wins to equal your score." Smiling brightly he added, "I'll get
there eventually." So saying he adjusted his grey bandanna - earned
soon after Ranma's arrival.

His friend and mild rival allowed a slight uptilt to his lips - Lano had
taken to tallying their battles sometime around the age of nine or so -
and despite the ever increasing numbers had continued to maintain
that notepad almost doggedly. Bowing to acknowledge the ending of
the duel, the pigtailed boy mentioned, "You were fighting well there
Lano, that overhead jab really rocked me off my feet there."

"Yeah, I thought I had you there - but it seems the resident God of
Shinkasa Ninjitsu lives to hold his title for another day."

"Shaddup Lano."

The Korean grinned - some things never changed.

Meyah chose that moment to intercede. "Very good work Ranma, but
you still need to improve your follow through on those cross strikes.
However we will practice that another time - Master Kagora will be
taking your next lesson."

The boy bowed to his mother, "Hai sensei." With a quick farewell
glance to his friend, Ranma sped off in the straight line direction to
the dojo - leaping obstacles at will.

The swordmaster smiled as she watched his retreating figure clear
the two-storey Shinto temple in a breathless leap. The resident
priests didn't even flinch - so used were they to the boy's antics.
Master Kagora had told her this morning that today he would begin
teaching....

*********

"Chi", the ninja master stated simply. "What do you know of ki and
chi?"

The boy's forehead furrowed in recollection. "Ki is the manifestation
of the energy of nature, chi is the energy from within - generated by
your own life force, it is the basis of both psycho and kinetic energy
as well as heat and light. External conduction forms a highly
plasmonic..." Further reiteration was cut off by his sensei's
upraised palm.

Kagora simply queried, "Loremaster Rishoto?"

The boy nodded mutely.

Making a mental note to remind the wizened bookworm to tone down
his vocabulary (even though that would likely happen a day after he
abandoned the library - ie. never) the ninja master continued, "Well
what you have learned in theory will hopefully now be put into
practice."

Ranma's eyes gleamed excitedly - his only outward sign of
eagerness. Ever since his mother had demonstrated some of her
simpler chi healing skills, he had developed a keen interest in the
manipulation of raw energy - a curiosity which had been somewhat
satisfied by her agreement to teach the boy some of her more basic
healer's skills during their spare time. However there was a definite
differentiation between employing chi to cure headaches, and
wielding energised attacks in combat. Up till now Kagora had
refused his student's requests to reveal the art of these techniques -
with a whole array of reasoning behind the decision. Amongst the
most emphatic of these included the fact that the Shinkasa in reality
knew of only a minute variety of chi techniques which actually suited
their needs - chi blasts, energy flames, barriers and the like tended to
generate plenty of unwanted noise and flashing lights - more the
province of martial artists. Most proper ninjas were thus expected to
fight with skill of hand alone - a combat style which was infinitely
easier to perform in silence.

Added to this argument was Kagora's subtle reminder that his heir
was already a master of one very powerful chi technique (although it
was particularly difficult to actually practice forms with it - given that
usage was definitely inappropriate during a sparring match), and the
kohai should be satisfied. Ranma being Ranma, with his insatiable
thirst for the art had not really heeded the sage advice of his master.

Though it currently seemed that advice or otherwise, Ranma's
curiosity was to be satisfied somewhat in the near future. Kagora
opened the teaching with his characteristic brief list of warnings.

"Now Ranma, before we begin you must be enlightened in certain
facts about chi and ki manipulation. For the most you should find that
they are not worth the draining effect on your endurance to be
employed regularly during combat. Most chi attacks are usually crude
at best, causing widespread collateral damage that is ill befitting for a
ninja's style. I do not want to find that if and when you master what I
teach you, chi becomes a convenient means of avoiding hand to
hand combat altogether - such a mentality will only leave you
physically exhausted from energy expenditure and none the better in
a battle. Chi is to be taken as simply another form to be used when
proper in a fight, no more. Am I clear on this?" The ninja master did
not wait for a response as he continued.

"With regard to ki techniques - I will certainly not be the one to be
teaching you any of those myself. If chi is considered simply noisy, ki
is the proverbial thunderclap in the deserted field. If you were to
employ one, everybody - martial artist, ninjas, and non-combatants
alike would know about it, thus defeating the purpose."

Seeing his kohai's rather disappointed frown, Kagora added
enigmatically , "There's no need for the desolation. I will be teaching
you at least one of the more useful techniques for the ninja. But that is
presumably a long time from now - at present you will need the first
few weeks simply to control the energy."

"Hai sensei," was the standard issue response.

Kagora nodded. "Assume lotus position." The boy immediately
deposited himself on the nearest tatami mat and folded calves above
opposing thighs. "Clear your mind, and imagine the state of
awareness you bear before taking a giant leap, or a slash with the
catfist." Ranma's brow crinkled reflexively as he attempted to focus.

The master closed his eyes, duplicating his student's position.
Reaching out with his own mind, Kagora attempted to track the path
of the pigtailed trainee's as of yet wildly erratic chi flows. Sensing a
lack of progress, he murmured, "No Ranma imagine your state of
mind *just* before you take that leap onto a rooftop, the moment when
the mental decision to leap is translated into action. Take that
mentality, focus the energy - there need not be a target - just a simple
focus."

The boy's eyes narrowed even further, lines of sweat beading along
the jawline. He could sense that moment - the brief euphoria as the
seemingly endless supply of power was fueled to his legs,
accelerating their movements beyond normal human capabilities.
That was what chi was - the raw...stuff... for want of a better
terminology, which allowed you to think, to command your body, to
move your body. It was the energy of life, and within the furiously
concentrating ninja, the energy continued frustratingly to move in
pointless circles - achieving nothing.

Seconds turned to minutes, and still...nothing. Kagora could sense
the dogged stubbornness which drove his kohai onwards, and after
fifteen minutes called off the ritual. Abruptly breaking away the train of
intense thought, Ranma grumbled quietly, frustration plain in his
voice.

"You needn't worry Ranma, this is but one of many procedures we will
go through to establish the connection to your energy well. I would
have been very shocked indeed if you had managed to achieve the
link on the first attempt."

"Hai sensei, I am trying my best - but something blocks me."

Kagora eyes glinted sympathetically. "You will find in time that the self
imposed barriers will weaken and dissipate eventually."

*Eventually being the operative word here*, the boy thought to himself.

"Now on to the next procedure." here his sensei reached into a
voluminous sleeve and withdrew a miniature gong - about the size of
a saucer. Ranma had realised after a few weeks that Master Kagora
could seemingly take anything out of those mystery sleeves, not just
his beloved sai. The acceptance that this wasn't just a 'trick', and
furthermore that the secret to its defiance of physical laws would
remain just that (a secret) until the master deemed fit had taken
several months longer to swallow.

However returning to the present, Ranma watched curiously as the
ninja master lightly tapped the gong with his index finger, producing a
hazily shimmering ring. "Listen carefully to the sound," the old fighter
whispered, "focus on it, and find that infinitesimally small instant when
sound ends and silence reigns. Live within that instant."

Ranma did so, straining with his hyper-sensitive hearing to find that
supposed point in time. This method appealed to him much more
comfortably - that the Catfist master could employ the delicate
senses which were his heritage. But despite this, he apparently
missed that point.

"Try again." The gong was struck again. Trying to immerse himself in
the metallic vibration, Ranma fervently wished he could slow time -
before realisation dawned that no matter how slow time was, the
instant that he searched for would always remain thus - a mere
instant.

"Again." And again the gong rang for the third time that morning.

"Have patience Ranma, if you would stop fretting over your inability to
find that point, you might actually find it, not so?"

He tapped the metal disc.

The boy sighed. This looked to be a loooong morning.


**********


In a vaguely similar dojo, another boy was receiving instructions from
his own sensei and father.

"I will leave it to you Ukyou to choose how to deal with the Saotomes -
either fulfill the oath by marrying Saotome Ranma, or redeem our
honour in blood." Looking closely at his child's now permanent style
of dress - and more particularly at the gender which it conveyed, he
was fairly convinced of the option which would be ultimately taken.
Ukyou had taken a preference to the drab and baggy - currently
sporting faded blue canvas trousers tied off at the waist and ankles
by cord, and matched by a rough blue workman's shirt - broad at the
shoulder and leaving plenty of room for movement. Curiously enough
to his father's eyes, the boy had chosen to keep his hair long, tied
firmly into a serviceable ponytail - though the appearance seemed to
suit his rather bishonen good-looks. And of course was the ever-
present battle spatula held in a sling over his back. Overall however,
a poor candidature for a potential spouse.

"Yes father, I will report my progress when opportunity arises."
Ukyou's face was expressionless as he once more examined the
provided address. All these years expended training - perfecting the
Kuonji's own martial style - at the sacrifice of all but his okonomiyaki -
it was the feverish obsession that only revenge could generate. And
now, the means to satisfy that craving for vengeance lay in his own
hands.

"My contacts up till now have been very reliable - though you will have
to make haste in case the Saotomes move once more. Notify me if
anything is amiss," Harakuna continued his dull monologue, "Here
are the title deeds to a property I acquired last week in the Nerima
district - should you find the need to remain awhile on your task. The
previous owner converted the lower rooms into a cafeteria - so it
should suit our requirements. In any case I will transfer three million
yen to your account, to fund your pursuit." So saying he passed on a
sealed full sized envelope.

Ukyou didn't even blink at the massively exogenous increase to his
savings - it was a large sum to be sure but then again the Kuonjis
were used to large sums. Nor did he query on just who father's
'contacts' were. Harakuna's son had once noted a multi-million yen
transfer wire to an unnamed location somewhere in Hokkaido - and
from then on had avoided delving in too deeply - lest he discover
what type of contacts the Kuonji Clan was involved with. And how
Harakuna had actually managed to procure an entire building space
that close to the centre of Tokyo in a few weeks was better left
unexplored.

The response which the Kuonji Clan leader heard was a generic, "I
will find them father, and do what needs to be done." There was
nothing really more to say - no fond farewells, wishes of good luck -
that was not the nature of the bond between this son and father.

The okonomiyaki chef was uncaring of that - he was long past the
point where such trivialities of emotion occupied a space in his focus.
Harakuna nodded approvingly, "Then go forth my..son, and restore
our Clan honour."

Bowing formally, Ukyou turned and unhesitatingly marched from the
ancestral dojo.


***********


"KIIIIYYYAIIII!" The wrenching scream was shortly followed by the
sound of soft flesh impacting with hardened wooden floorboards -
accompanied by a withering moan. Genma grunted as he slowly rose
to his feet. There was only one patch of the dojo uncovered by tatami
mats (the budget couldn't afford the extra few), and Akane had once
again managed to project him onto that single very solid spot.

Despite his outward annoyance at being floored once more, Genma
was pleased to have finally trained a student who could surpass
himself on a regular basis - *and* she was a girl as well. However, that
did not mean that he was entirely finished with her. "Now Akane, your
aerial moves need plenty of tidying up, and we are going to keep
working that 3 point double sidekick until you get it right."

"Yes Uncle Saotome." *That oughta keep that baka Kuno off my
back.* However, in reality she hadn't needed to trounce the crazy
kendoist in a long while - her friend Ryouga had seen to that ever
since his arrival. Although the interference was a tad annoying
(Akane could take care of her own fights thank you very much and
please butt out) it was still thoughtful of him to save her the trouble.

Indeed the said bandanna clad boy was watching the lesson avidly -
for several reasons - it was martial arts, and he could pick up some
pointers to help Akane in their next sparring match. However most of
all it was because he really..enjoyed watching her. She was so
graceful in combat, moving with the liquid ease that he found lacking
in his own more brute strength form with the iron umbrella. Yes, the
speed of Anything Goes truly was her style. Sighing wistfully, he
stared passionately as her long flowing hair swirled, following the arc
of the girl's cross throw. Genma once again made contact with the
unyielding floor.

Watching interestedly from the doorway, Tendo Nabiki remained long
enough to re-evaluate her sister's skill level - as always truly
phenomenal. She revised the estimated 'standard Kuno defeat time'
to 6 seconds. It always paid (literally) to keep up to date.

"On second thoughts," Genma tried to suppress the moan, "I think
we'll give training a break for now - old Soun'll be wanting another
shogi round to redeem his honour." Without waiting for his student's
expected protests, the Saotome patriarch beat a very hasty retreat.

Akane's shoulders sagged a little - she still had SO much practice to
do, and nothing but inanimate dummies to work with..that is
unless.."Ryouga, can we go for another round - I still need to work
out this sidekick." She noted his reluctance. "Look I promise I'll take
you back to your home afterwards, please? I need to get this down
before school starts on Monday."

Ryouga had many reasons why he should have said no - he hated
tempting the possibility of bruising her, and added to that was the fact
that she ALWAYS managed to break through his defence, no matter
how stolid, and land some very hard socks to the body. Ryouga was
tough, but dammit those punches HURT. He smiled at the thought -
that Akane was such a formidable fighter was one of the multitudes of
reasons why he liked her..very much indeed.

Interpreting his blissful smile for acceptance Akane lowered herself
into a ready stance. "Thanks Ryouga, I promise I won't hurt you so
much this time. You attack first okay?"

Suddenly returning to reality, and the fact that he was about to spar
once more, the eternal lost boy suppressed a sigh. He began with a
heavy side punch, to which the opponent effortlessly vaulted over,
tagging his shoulder as she flew overhead. Yes, promise or not this
was going to hurt.

Akane grinned ecstatically - this was just what she had been raised
for - to be the best. Ryouga wasn't up to her standard, but he was very
close - close enough that fighting him was still a good challenge. If
only she could get him to fight back with his full force more often -
Akane needed a few heavy bruises to toughen herself up.


**********


Releasing a refreshed breath of air - a celebration of his escape from
another half-hour of battering, Genma squatted before the ever-
faithful shogi table. "Care to test your skills again Tendo?"

The object of his query raised his head from behind a newspaper to
gaze at the clock. "Alright then Saotome, I still have an hour till the
next class - more than enough time to knock you over."

The two settled comfortably for the next round. "So how was Akane
today?" Soun took his friend's momentary look over toward the dojo
to alter Genma's first move.

"As fine as always Tendo - she floored me six times today." Genma
absently scratched at a purpling bruise under his collarbone.

"She must be up to heirship standard by now." Soun tentatively
broached a subject he had be wanting to discuss for a while.

"That she is Tendo, that she is - you must be a proud father to have
such wonderful daughters."

"What of your own son?" There. There he'd said it. The nervous man
apprehensively observed his friend's visage darken considerably.

"What, Ranma? I had almost forgotten that ungrateful boy." That
wasn't quite true, but the statement served to convey Genma's
displeasure very well. "What of him anyway - we haven't heard a word
from the boy all these years - not *one* word!"

Soun carefully regulated his voice into neutrality, "Saotome my old
friend, you are not worried for him in the slightest?"

At that, the bereaved father wilted, "Honestly Tendo? I don't know.
When I last...parted with the ninjas, they had already looked after
him for months by then. Much as I distrust those kind of people, even
they would not have gone to so much trouble if they intended him
harm. If I learned anything from the..master" (both unconsciously
shuddered at that) "it's that the ninja clans always have a reason for
their actions. No, Ranma is alive and well - he simply chooses not to
return to his rightful family." Genma's frown deepened at that. *What
are you doing now my foolishly rebellious son?*

His friend briefly imagined a life where his own daughters had
deserted him - and abruptly cut that thought when tears threatened to
burst from his visage. Weakly, he managed, "Saotome you cannot be
sure of that. And in any case he is still your son, your heir, and one of
my daughter's future husband."

With his hands clasped about his forehead, the bald martial artist did
not notice the rapid fire swapping of shogi pieces that occurred under
his nose. "I can't be sure of anything anymore. I haven't seen my own
boy in nearly eight years - in such time he could have been corrupted
into their way of thinking - by the Kami my old friend, he could be
some shadow warrior or a trained assassin by now! What would
Nodoka say?" *And more importantly, what would Nodoka do?* To
this day, katanas still elicited a shiver from the Saotome patriarch.

"The master will certainly not be pleased to discover what has
become of his heir - not to mention the unity of our schools." And
Soun would have done much to eradicate that - a displeased master
quickly led to very bad things for his two poor students.

Almost wailing, Genma cried out, "What would you have me do
Tendo? My son is held in the clutches of an entire ninja Clan - they're
are at least a hundred of them! I tried for months to steal him from
those wretched Shinkasa, but nothing." Seeing his friend about to
respond and guessing what it was he continued, "and no, I cannot call
the authorities. I have...issues with the police. And besides a clan
like theirs could probably hide the boy someplace before we could
get to him."

Soun was already familiar with his companion's less than honest
nature, and accepted it as a by-product of training in his youth. "Such
a tragedy that people like them can still roam free in the world today."

"Yes, Tendo a great tragedy. Oh and it's your move."

His long haired friend looked down in shock. Somehow, in seven
moves his position had been utterly desecrated. It didn't matter really,
he had to warm up for their next martial arts class. "Looks like you win
again Saotome, but I'll beat you yet. I'll be going to change for class."
With a wave Soun left his comrade still sitting besides the shogi
board.

Absently, the Saotome patriarch wondered what his estranged son
was doing at this very moment. *That is if he is still alive of course.*
Best not to think of that.


***********


There were two sensations which Ranma felt as soon as he returned
to reality - a great weariness, and an almost overwhelming desire to
relieve himself. Dismissal from the lessons was hurriedly accepted by
a half-hearted bow and a streaking dash for the nearest lavatory. Chi
mastery aside he really wished his sensei appreciated natural bodily
functions more readily.

Kagora watched curiously at his kohai's less than dignified departure,
and thus was in the correct orientation to note his daughter's silent
entrance. "How was it?" she questioned once they were alone.

"Fine - Ranma makes good progress with my teachings - as always."

"Does he know *everything* about Shinkasa chi arts?" To both, her
meaning was quite clear.

Her father sighed regretfully, "In all my years as a sensei, it never gets
any easier to reveal that part of all initiated ninjas. Ranma must
be..what, the fourth? individual kohai I have taken on and still I
cannot find the appropriate moment to tell him." Imagining a generic
situation with his student he mimicked, "Oh by the way Ranma, in all
the years I have been your master, did I ever mention that sometimes
I'm a dog? No? Oh well now you know."

Meyah smirked at the unlikely scenario. "For that I am glad it is not
my duty to foster that part of Ranma's education, Master Kagora."
More somberly she continued, "Although we have not much time
before the expedition to China. We are quite positive that Ranma will
be initiated then?"

Eyebrows raised, her father replied, "Why, do you doubt his
proficiency in our art?"

"Of course not", she hastily revised. "It is merely that I am concerned
of how he will take the event - it is hardly within the scope of normal
imagination."

"Broad minded or not, I will be sure to tell him within the week."

Bowing formally as a gesture of parting, his daughter murmured, "As
you will, Master Kagora."

Kagora was left alone once again, dwelling on the events that had
transpired to bring him to this point in time. Brushing away
philosophical musings, the old ninja swiftly exited the dojo, heading
for the east wing field - Shikinizawa would be awaiting her next
archery lesson.


***********


As per usual, Ranma and Lano were to be found together during the
lunch break. The years of living at Shinkasa House had done little to
improve the former's outward sociability amongst the greater
population of teenagers - though by now it was mostly his own doing.
The pair's close knit ties both in and out of training had the
unfortunate effect of shifting them into their own personal league - to
which outsiders felt distinctly out of place if they tried to join in. Lano
managed to offset this with his easy going and amicable personality,
whilst his friend's single minded focus on Ninjitsu (not to mention the
Mutsabeto Kakuto) only served to further isolate him from his peers.

And for roughly half the population that was considered to be a
mournful tragedy - that the pigtailed boy's roguishly dark good looks,
and finely muscled frame wasn't combined with a desire to actually
associate beyond his Korean friend. Lano had no such qualms, and
regularly enjoyed the pleasures of flirting with one or more of the more
'interesting' girls. Thankfully, time spent in the Clan community had
mostly dissolved the racial tensions which had kept him in solitude
during early childhood. And besides he was *sooo* kawaii with that
wildly wavy brown hair.

Although he openly displayed a certain disgust for his friend's antics,
Ranma couldn't help but occasionally (just occasionally) envy the
Korean for his natural 'likeability' - especially amongst some
members of the opposite sex. Like all growing teenagers, the
pigtailed trainee had discovered within himself a certain...interest in
some of the more 'interesting' facts of life. But as always the Art came
first and foremost - and until Ranma had reached some unnamed
point in his mastery of the combat forms he was very well prepared to
forgo the time and energy required to deal with the whole bundle of
complexity collectively termed as - girls. And so for now, Ranma was
content to remain 'just good friends' with his more frequent female
sparring partners.

Lano's whispered comment brought him back to the present. "What
was that Lano?"

The Korean regarded his companion curiously for an instant - it
wasn't often that Ranma failed to hear anything. "I said the rumour mill
has it the masters are planning a trip to China for the best of our age
group." He needn't have mentioned that both of them were well
considered to own a place in that elite body.

Curiosity piqued, the pigtailed boy stared at him, "When and where
exactly?"

Slightly exasperated Lano replied, "Well if I knew that much detail it
wouldn't be rumour now would it?" Softening up he added, "Though
they say that it's some remote unknown place in the middle of
nowhere where all the top Shinkasa ninjas go to be trained."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ranma said nonchalantly, "Well I'll worry
about that when it happens. Besides I still have to think about my
present training."

"Oh that reminds me, what did you learn from old man Kagora this
time?" Ranma's personal tutorial had cut through his normal group
lessons.

His friend sighed despondently, "I learned that sitting in the lotus
position for more than three hours gives you the worst case of
cramps."

Lano's eyebrows raised at the cryptic answer. Hastily Ranma briefly
explained the purpose and outcome of today's morning lesson.

"Hmmmm," the Korean mused, "I wonder why Master Kinaro hasn't
introduced me to chi techniques yet?"

Ranma smirked at that. "Well that's obvious - clearly Master Kinaro
thinks you're not good enough yet for the challenge."

"I don't see you throwing any lightning bolts around," Lano snorted,
half in disgust. Though he amiably accepted his friend's natural
superiority in both fighting and stealth skills, it could still be a little
galling to be always one step behind the pigtailed ninja in every
lesson and form.

Glancing at his watch, the object of his ire had no time for a rejoinder.
"Sorry Lano, gotta go now - Master Kagora wants me back for more
chi control training."

Lano watched with mixed feelings as he tracked Ranma's
disappearance around the corner of the mess hall. Resolving not to
depress himself on such a beautiful day by ruminating on his training
progress, the teenager looked about for more enlightening pursuits -
now then that local girl from Lakisa village had been giving him the
big eyes all through the crossbow lessons. His practiced gaze,
scanning the area quickly located her, cheeks blushing furiously at
being discovered. Affixing his most suave smile, Lano sauntered
over to acquaint himself with the pretty individual.


**********


A crumpled, though neatly folded letter sealed with black wax and
embossed with the tiger and dragon's chop - of course there could be
only one sender. *Two letters in seven years - a rare treat indeed.* Khu
Lon had not forgotten Kagora's last penned missive, and the fact that
there had not been a single word passed between them for the
months following was cause for good cheer to her. The ninja master
was not a man to waste words, and would not have bothered to write
further on the Nekoken case unless something was amiss.

However, now she was perusing yet another letter. The Amazon
matriarch inwardly hoped that it bore fairer tidings than the last.


# # # #

To the honoured elder Khu Lon,

I send you salutations from the Shinkasa. Our council has
conferred and agreed that we have this year a sufficient number
of exceptional trainees to propose a training excursion to your
lands - that is of course if that falls under the matriarch high
council's approval.

# # # #


That was merely a formality - it was comparatively rare that the
Shinkasa arranged an expedition to the home of their old allies, but
they were always welcome in any case, without the need to request.
Aside from the established pacts between tribe and clan, Khu Lon
personally looked forward to such meetings - to see the proverbial
'cream' of the crop, and to find the opportunity to pick out the elite for
her own meddlings. Kagora was well aware of the ancient matriarch's
tendencies, and had established sworn agreements to bar her from
interfering with his own plans - but such oaths could be easily
circumvented. Amongst old friends it became a playful competition of
'snatch the heir'. To herself personally it was likened to a window
shopping excursion, where the wares were presented before her very
eyes. This batch was particularly intriguing to the old Amazon
because, if her judgement of training times was correct, Saotome
Ranma would be amongst the select few. She read on.


# # # #

Within this group will be my own kohai, Saotome Ranma, whom
you must be aware of from my last message. He has progressed as
I have hoped, and very much more - and we have agreed that he
is superfluously worthy of the initiation. As you are perhaps the
best of the Amazon warriors, I request as a friend that you take
him on personally.

As to the details of the planned expedition, we are hoping to
leave in one month to this day, and will thus expect to arrive on
the 20th of January next year or thereabouts. Will you write in
return to us with the matriarchs' decisions on the matter?

With constant regards,
Master of the ninja, Shinkasa Kagora
Representative apparent of Clan Shinkasa.

# # # #


Smiling gleefully, the ancient elder hopped off upon her trusty gnarled
cane to summon the council - she would follow through with this
request immediately. As she passed the doorway of her own home,
she briefly considered one part of Kagora's letter where he asked for
her tuition personally. That brought on a most 'un-matriarchly' snort.
The old ninja master would have had to physically upend her to stop
the elder from tutoring Ranma personally. *And of course, there is
always my Xian Pu to think about. She's grown herself a remarkably
fine figure there - an attractive incentive for any male.* Khu Lon
sighed wistfully. *The joys of youth.*


************


Retying his longish ponytail, the okonomiyaki chef disembarked from
the carriage and proceeded to a nearby local area map that was
afixed to the station wall. It took only a moment to confirm the location
of the Nerima district - and more precisely a particular street on which
it was hoped a certain father and son would be found.

Tightening his coverall jacket over slender shoulders, for the daily air
grew considerably colder as winter loomed, Ukyou hoisted his
travelling pack once more and trudged up the appropriate exit. Now
uncovered by the grimy station roof, the clear aqua blue skies,
highlighted in the noon Sun proclaimed a cheery day which drew the
multitudes of salarymen and draft workers for a packed luncheon
better consumed outdoors - despite the chill.

A most inappropriate day for a reckoning. It had been so very long
since the beginning of this episode in his life, that the wandering boy
had almost forgotten the original drive that fueled his vengeance. No,
that wasn't quite true - he could still clearly recall that awful morning,
it
was simply that the oppressing events that had compounded from
that point onwards had only served to multiply the sorrow, the pain at
desertion - until such a time when there was no more 'why' to the
revenge, but a 'when' and 'how'. Memories that would stay forever
with the youngest Kuonji - the not so inaudible whispers of 'that girl'
who had been openly spurned and rejected by the Clan of her
betrothed. People, both children and parents alike wondered whether
there was perhaps something wrong with her - as a child she
appeared at least outwardly not unusual - even pretty perhaps. Cold
logic therefore assumed that it was maybe something internal - was
'that girl' perhaps unstable?

A wide variety of speculation arose on just what it was that was 'not
quite right' with the little Kuonji girl. Such notoriety did not bode well
for the Clan as a whole - Harakuna was now the proud father of a
child, who before she had even reached teenager years had been
marked out as an outsider. And the added fact that he openly
admitted to friends and family that he would have been better off with
a son (after all sons could carry on the Kuonji name, and had the right
to choose their partners - not be the chosen) had not helped matters
in any case.

Turning the corner onto the next street, Ukyou's thoughts shifted over
to the present. If their information proved true, then the father/son duo
were to be found within the next block. He had not decided as of yet
how he would deal with the Saotomes. Revenge to be sure - but what
form and how far? His father had stated clearly enough that the
offending family had to pay "in blood," but that was all. Though Ukyou
was prepared at least to spill a little of it - it was questionable if he
was capable of wielding the spatula for murder. No, that would be
decided at the proverbial moment of truth.

It was at that point the ponytailed boy came to a semi-ornate wooden
entryway, where the kanji for 'Tendo Dojo' was inscribed upon the
cross beam. If the Saotomes were to be found here, then that
moment of truth would be soon in arrival. Determinedly, Ukyou
pushed open the gate and stepped into the residence.


***********


"Saotome Genma?"

The addressed man whirled at the unexpected voice. And before
him, not more than seven feet away stood a ruggedly pretty boy, face
angled aggressively forward. Cautiously, he replied, "Who's asking?"

That was all the introduction required for the teenager. Snapping the
catch of his shoulder sling open, he swiftly pulled out the trusty battle
spatula, and in the same motion swung it in a vicious half-arc.

Genma however had not spent the greater majority of his early years
in training for nothing, and was already well out of the way in a back
flip as the razor flat of the unique weapon passed by with a metallic
hiss. Deflecting his opponent's under hand swing with an open palm,
and causing the teenager to overextend, he took the momentary
breather to query nervously, "Ahhh, have we met before?"

Of course that was not the most appropriate statement - to inform an
enraged vengeance seeker that you were totally unaware of there
being a situation of contention, and so he wasn't that surprised when
the attacker responded with a multi striking combination, this time
openly jabbing with the sharpened front. Ukyou's eyes narrowed in
furious concentration, ambiently aware of the scenario in proximity so
as not to foul himself by treading upon a stray cushion. He attempted
to maintain the pressure of the offensive to keep the old Saotome off
balance.

"Can you tell me who you are first? Maybe we can settle this
peacefully?" Genma half-pleaded in ragged gasps. He was very
skilled to be sure - but age and poor eating habits had eked away at
his endurance. And this enemy was fast, savage, and very very
determined indeed.

Unlike other combatants he had encountered in his relatively short
life, Ukyou knew that personally the more enraged he was, the higher
his focus of intensity. And this offender's pathetic attempts to
appease the years of wrong-doing, and the very fact that the sweating
man seemed callously unaware of having inflicted such misery fueled
an anger like nothing before.

Having failed to attain a short respite, the gi clad martial artist opted
for his only viable option - to run. Despite his supreme skill in this last
Anything Goes Final Attack borne of literally years of sometimes daily
practice, this time the technique proved a critical error. With a final
sequential double kick, Genma attempted to buy the microseconds
needed to flee from sight. With his back turned however he couldn't
see his opponent withdraw from a bandoleer previously hidden within
the chef's baggy shirt a small, steel spatula.

Thus Genma was caught totally in shock as Ukyou expertly drew back
his wrist and hurled the chosen projectile into a rapidly spinning arc,
the flat of the mini spatula keeping the blade aloft. With a precision
honed to deadly accuracy the spatula arced low heading for the legs.

As he ran, the Saotome patriarch could hear the faintly disturbing
sigh of metal cutting through air. Recognising vaguely the sound for
what it was Genma was nonetheless unable to dodge sufficiently as
the inertia of a full sprint continued to carry him forwards. With a sickly
wet thump the razor flat of the blade almost lovingly caressed the
exposed calf and sank deep, severing muscle and agonizingly
scraping the bone. With a howl, the stout man crumpled to the front
yard pavement, pain overriding his natural martial artist's instincts to
roll with the fall. However these inbred reflexes quickly regained
control of the rapidly disintegrating situation, and sparked him back
to his feet, favouring the uninjured limb. Genma had paid for his
momentary miscalculation, and paid in full. Ignoring the blood
pattering down in small rivulets he weakly tried to uphold a defence
against the oncoming okonomiyaki chef.

For his opponent, the moment when the accurately aimed spatula
actually cut flesh came as a totally riveting shock.

*Pay in blood.*

Oh yes, Ukyou had trained tirelessly to master the curious device - he
was in no doubts as to success as soon as spatula left the hand. But
to actually experience the razor at its finest moment - when it
performed its designated duty of spilling blood - well that was
poignantly different.

Ukyou fought down the urge to be retch as he stared at the
unnervingly consistent flow of red as it stained the fresh grass a deep
crimson. The darker portion of his mind banefully reminded him that
there was yet another Saotome to be found - a quick inspection of the
premises preceding this attack had revealed that currently Genma
was alone.

Fighting to maintain an air of detachment, the chef again brought his
battle spatula to the fore. Vividly recalling all the trials and pain he had
endured to this point made it so much easier to continue this battle
with a wounded enemy. Taking advantage of Genma's lack of
maneuverability he extended his hold on the long armed weapon,
swinging from a distance.

To the Anything Goes practitioner's credit, the defence under the
onslaught was marvelous - but without the use of his painfully fiery leg,
and the weakened perceptions from loss of blood Genma never had
a chance. Taking a vicious punch from the blunt edge of the spatula in
the stomach, followed by a smash in the face with the flat which
bloodied his nose the old Saotome was again toppled
unceremoniously to the soft earth.

Weakly, he pleaded, begging continually for his life as Ukyou stepped
close, resting the razor flat firmly against his trachea. The chef's ears
heard these cries, recording them though the mind ignored the pleas
for the moment. He had a mission to carry out. Steeling his voice,
Ukyou menacingly demanded, "Where is your son Genma? I have yet
to deal with him."

Any thought of protecting his estranged sire fled when, as if to
punctuate the words, the ponytailed martial artist leaned carefully into
the haft of his spatula - insufficient to break skin, but enough to pass
the intent to do so.

"M-My son? I haven't seen the b-boy in years," the father hurriedly
blurted, hoping that for the one time where he actually told the truth, he
would be believed.

Staring down at him, Ukyou's eyes seemed to be daring the man to
lie. With a confidence he didn't feel, the chef asked again, "Where *is*
he?"

"T-the boy left me years ago. H-he's with a clan, a ninja clan, called
the Shinkasa."

"Where?" Ukyou was acutely aware that with the amount of blood
flowing from the slashed calf, Genma might not remain on this side of
consciousness to reveal more.

"H-Hashima, a town in Hokkaido. There's a mountain near it - I-I don't
know what. But the boy's there." Genma fervently wanted to just curl
up somewhere warm and hide. "P..please just leave me alone."

Now thoroughly sick of the entire affair, Ukyou raised his spatula off
the throat of the prone martial artist. Recalling his father's commands,
he clenched his jaw and steeled the resolve and swiftly cut down
across Genma's chest, opening his gi and leaving a long, but
relatively light slash across the heavy torso. It was not fatal, but would
leave a noticeable scar.

That done, Ukyou promptly turned and fled. He fervently hoped that
father's demand for blood would be satisfied by this - because there
was no way in hell the chef would have spilled more from the helpless
old man. Abruptly the image of the startlingly white colour of exposed
bone amongst a pool of neatly sliced flesh arose unbidden to his
eyes, and Ukyou was suddenly forced to keel over himself and relieve
his protesting stomach of today's breakfast. Vengeance or otherwise,
the teenager felt truly awful.

So awful in fact that the recollection of his having left the throwing
spatula with the bleeding Saotome never arose until long afterwards.


**********


It was Soun who first encountered the fallen Saotome patriarch,
sprawled eloquently upon their front entryway to the house. He was
already unconscious from blood loss, and had thus caused a dreadful
fright lying unmoving in a small pool of his own life fluid. At the sight of
his prone companion, Soun automatically dashed forwards to check
the vitals, and finding Genma still breathing shot up to race for the
telephone. Dr Tofu had to be summoned at once. In doing so, it totally
slipped the panicked father's mind that the reason for his leaving the
premises was to accompany Kasumi on her trip to the market to help
carry the goods. Therefore the eldest Tendo daughter would have
been right behind..

"OH MY!!" ...him.

Groceries were dropped heavily to the ground as she stared
transfixed at the grisly array before her, visage as pale as the
unconscious figure blocking their front path. Too late to shield his
daughter from the sight, Soun again turned to the phone, cursing
himself for his ineptitude.

After relaying the urgency of the situation, the Tendo father again
returned to the front yard to see what would be done to help his old
friend. One did not need a medical background to see that old
Genma was in no condition to help himself. Upon reaching the open
front door however, he came upon an unexpected sight - Kasumi had
already propped Genma's wounded leg above heart level and was in
the process of bandaging the exposed cut with a strip torn from the
hem of her apron. The chest wound had already been similarly
covered, and a damp cloth placed over the bald man's forehead.

Soun could only watch baffled as his eldest daughter expertly tied
several Red Cross Approved pseudo-depressing pads. *When did
Kasumi take first aid courses?*

His curiosity was short lived as Tofu Ono arrived on the scene, a little
short of breath from having sprinted the entire journey. It was then that
the 'Tofu is currently near Kasumi' connection was identified within
Soun's whirling brain - though far too late to stop it.

And very fortunately for all present (especially the currently
incapacitated patient), it appeared that emergency situations
overrode the exemplary doctor's natural reflexive reactions to the
lovely girl, and prompted within him the deft medical skills which had
earned the clinic a good name for miles around. He barely
acknowledged Kasumi's presence save for an appreciatively grateful
glance at the temporary patchwork she had produced.

In short order therefore, Genma was bandaged up and shipped off to
Nerima Ward hospital with the firm reassurance from Tofu that though
there was a great deal of fluid loss, he should pull through without
complications. "That cut to his calf was nasty to be sure, but
remarkably clean and narrow - so after some retying of the tendons,
Mr Saotome should do fine with stitches and small cast." He frowned
a little at the next comment, "That slash to the chest is curious
however."

Seeing the worried wide eyed look which had suddenly surfaced on
the Tendo patriarch's face, he hastily added, "Nothing serious mind
you, simply that it was a strange wound to receive in a fight."

Now on to territory which Soun was personally more familiar with
(fighting) he seemed to perk up from the atmosphere of
despondency. "What was wrong with the wound? It looked to be a
normal sword cut."

Gravely, the doctor responded, "No it was caused by a blade far
sharper than that - and what is more it was not the quick slash of a
flying blade, but drawn across slowly. And from the consistency I'd
say it might have been done when Mr Saotome had already fallen."

Soun's eyes narrowed dangerously at that. Somebody had dared to
wound a helpless opponent - it was most dishonourable.

"Could this have been the device used to inflict the wounds, Doctor
Tofu?" Kasumi tentatively asked, holding out a bloodied mini-spatula
distastefully at arm's length, even though it was sandwiched in the
remains of her apron. "I found it near poor Mr Saotome."

Tofu's eyes seemed to focus for the first time upon the third member
of their conversation. He found himself lost in her bright gaze, falling
like a drowning man into those endlessly warm depths.
"Ka.Ka..KaSUMI! Aie, ah, oh.hehee."

Soun clutched his head mournfully, trying to fight off the tears that
threatened to burst forth simply because the situation was so terribly
chaotic. Thus he never noticed the good doctor dancing off down the
side street, immersed in the joys of his sweet Kasumi and ever
faithful Betty-chan. Neither of the two could figure out just when these
episodes had started, sometime when the Tendo girl had turned
fifteen or so, but it was most annoying if one wished for a straight
conversation.

"Hi dad I'm home! Why's everyone in the..MY GOD!!!"

Soun gave up, and his promise to Genma be damned, started
weeping.


***********


"Now how did we fare this time?" Kagora's tone was genially
enigmatic as always.

"I think better this time sensei. I could hold the energy for a few
seconds at least." Ranma's positive words did not match his
pessimistic expression.

"All well and good. Once you have sufficient control, we can start to
hold the chi outside the body - and from then on the rest is relatively
easy."

The boy only sighed - at the rate progress was going it seemed he'd
be as old as the master before he could even start leaning the stupid
technique.

With an unusually kind smile, Kagora patted his student on the
shoulder, "It's hard for all of us at first Ranma. It is not that you lack
the
talent - simply that your mind needs to be accustomed to channeling
its energy in ways that to the normal human functionings are very
peculiar indeed. Master Rishoto once likened it to trying to move a
table by literally thinking it to move, as if the wood were part of your
body. To most people it is simply just not how things are
done..yet." The last word was added with a mysterious gleam to
his eyes.

"Hai, sensei." The pigtailed ninja's back straightened considerably -
he would not give up, that was for sure.

Eyeing him carefully, Kagora gestured for his kohai to leave for the
day. "Oh and Ranma, practice your katas as you wish, but refrain
from trying out your chi arts tonight - they will only exhaust you for the
next day."

"Hai sensei," the teenager nodded. He was too pooped to meddle in
mind techniques anyway. As soon as Master Kagora was out of
sight, Ranma immediately shifted into dash mode. It was his turn to
cook tonight, and he was late.


**********


"He's WHERE?" Akane shouted.

"Onee-chan already told us where he was, and you needn't shout sis -
everyone's here to hear you," Nabiki murmured wearily. She had a
headache already, and Akane's ultra decibel tantrums were not
pleasant on the ears.

Soun continued solemnly, "We will have to wait until Saotome
awakens from his surgery - then we can ask him what happened.
Until then all we have to go by is this device." At this point he held
forth delicately the small spatula, still stained with blood.

Akane's eyes narrowed in fury. Her sensei had been viciously beaten
and maimed, the unnecessary chest slash an indication of some sick
sadist at work. If she ever found the creep who did this....

"Akane now, don't lose your temper." Kasumi murmured comfortingly,
observing her younger sister's murderous expression. "Seething
won't help Mr Saotome - and all we can do is wait."

Akane hated waiting. So she marched off to practice that advanced
aerial kicking combination learned a few weeks ago. It still needed
tiding up. After all she couldn't afford to let Ryouga get too close to
her skill level. Despite his infuriating unwillingness to strike back at
her - it was clear that she still held the upper hand over him - though
only just.

The middle Tendo daughter after hearing this exchange
exasperatedly launched herself from the couch and headed to her
computer upstairs. The rest of the family may have been resolved to
squat and do nothing, but maybe.just maybe she could find some
information on any criminals or Yakuza known for leaving razor
cooking utensils as calling cards.

Soun could only sit gloomily. Two hours gone, and he already missed
his old friend. The shogi board sat undisturbed - just begging for a
game. *Oh Saotome my friend, I am so sorry that I was not here to
help you.* The pair has always fought as a team, two against the
world (Master Happousai had few friends). It just wasn't right that one
of them be ganged up on by himself without the other to cover his
back.



*************
*************


# # # #

To the Master of Ninjitsu, Shinkasa Kagora,

I have conferred with the matriarchy council and all have
agreed unanimously to accept your request for a training visit.
We will duly await your arrival at the appointed time and
welcome the introduction of Shinkasa's finest. I myself will
undertake the education of your own Saotome Ranma, should
your offer still stand. As well I presume you will be using your
traditional training grounds once more - in Shinkasa fashion.

Much as I dislike the terms, we will continue to honour the
traditional agreements - though as I have informed you
repeatedly such vows fall heavily against our own laws.

Elder Khu Lon, Matriarch of the village of Joketsuzoku.

# # # #


"What laws?" Meyah queried from behind. Kagora looked up from his
reading to note that at some unknown point his daughter had joined
him to follow the closely written kanji.

Amusedly he commented, "I thought you studied Joketsuzoku law in
your younger days. Don't tell me you've already forgotten."

Mildly irked at his teasingly condescending tone, she replied, "Nooo, I
have not forgotten the Amazon laws Master Kagora - all one hundred
and sixty four of them." Left unspoken was the implication that her
father himself could not claim to have remembered every one. "I was
just inquiring as to which laws our 'traditional agreements' applied to.

Arranging himself more comfortably on the seat cushion, the aged
ninja master began his explanation. "As you well know, one of the
more infamously annoying laws of theirs is the 'defeated Amazon
woman must kill outsider females and marry outsider males' clause.
Declared challenges only of course. However this caused havoc
when we sent our very best ninja trainees over there - especially
considering our ancient personal attachments to Jusenkyo. The
matriarchs were only too eager to grab at such healthy 'foreign blood',
but it was against Clan policy to give up its best members simply
because of some foreign rule." He smiled a little at the
understatement. "And so, generations before you Meyah, the masters
of the past arranged an agreement that during the time of training up
till initialisation of the worthy, all laws regarding such combat and
challenges were temporarily nulled - that our females could practice
in safety, and our males could work in...peace." Wryly he thought
to previous cases during the time of his reign as ninja master. Some
of the more..enthusiastic male trainees hadn't minded the
attention all that much - especially considering that the Chinese
Amazons in general were gifted with more than their fair share of
healthy genes (the aged master's way of saying that Joketsuzoku was
full of 'babes').

"I suppose that would be fortunate for Ranma." Meyah replied
dubiously. She was hoping that her child would find the opportunity to
associate with a wider variety of people outside the Clan. Against her
preferences, the only other member he tended to converse with was
Iyarasora Lano, whilst the others tended to leave the pair alone. To
the swordmaster's eyes, Ranma, though courteous and eloquent
enough was poorly experienced in the mores of common society -
critical to any ninja in the field.

However, they had more important matters of immediacy to consider.
"Have you told him yet?" Her father's sinking expression told her no.

"I was hoping that you might..." Kagora trailed off. "He would take it
better from his own mother."

Meyah's eyes danced playfully, "Oh, is the mighty ninja master now
fobbing off his duties to those lower in the caste?" Her upraised hand
- a perfect duplication of her father's habits - forestalled any insulted
protests he might generate. "Don't worry, *Master* Kagora I will tell him
if you are too afraid to." She bowed once and swiftly melted out of the
room.

Kagora watched her disappear in silence. *Insolent child.* But his
eyes were smiling.


***********


"Ranma, rest awhile for a moment - we have something to discuss."

The boy reluctantly lowered his weapons. Today was one of the
practice sessions he particularly favoured - where the training was
with the steel of a proper katana instead of the wooden bokkens.
Although the two instruments were very similar in balance and weight
- it was considered vital that a trainee be closely familiar with the
handling of a true blade - primarily the fact that overuse of the
practice swords tended to breed a certain callousness to the cutting
power of a real katana.

Indeed that was perhaps the single disadvantage that Ranma had
identified of his chosen tools. These swords were superb maiming
and killing devices - but were of little use for anything else in battle.
Unlike Lano's hefty bo-staff, it was actually a considerable difficulty to
disable an opponent without seriously injuring him - involving complex
and often uncomfortable side slashes with the flat or haft of the blade.
As such it was not unusual that for daily passage, most of the ninjas,
masters included, carried weapons of wood - as they proved more
than sufficient to keep the local peace. Steel was for proper missions
only.

However all this was of little concern as Ranma sheathed his blades
and moved to stand before his sensei. He could tell from the serious
set of her eyes, and the fact that she had interrupted sword training
that this was hardly a light matter of discourse.

"I'm sure you've heard the occasional rumour that a training trip has
been planned to China - for the best of the trainees only."

The teenager nodded; 'occasional' was a mild understatement - Lano
had been continually offering speculation on where, when, why, and
how this journey was to take place - literally driving his friend up the
wall (Ranma had scaled the perimeter palisade to escape the
continuous babbling).

"Well, it is perhaps obvious that for any such expedition you would be
a participant - we needn't be modest - you are the single best grey
band trainee for this generation's group.." *and for any other as
well* "..that is of course if you accept the invitation."

As she expected, her son affirmed that very emphatically.

"Well, there are several important matters we have to settle
preceding that.- and it falls to me to inform you of them." Here she
decided to begin with a more personal issue - though Master Kagora
had never ordered her to do so.

"Ranma, both Master Kagora, myself and many other sensei have
taught you a very diverse range of skills - aside from the art of
Ninjitsu, you have a basic grasp of scholarly knowledge, cooking,
survival training, and some of my own herbal remedies, medicines
and healing arts." She smiled at the last points. Ever since her son
had begun working with her father on chi and ki arts - their own
progress with her healer's teachings had accelerated rapidly. Ranma
was no qualified healer himself - but he could hasten the repairing of
mild cuts and bruises.

Meyah continued seriously, "However nonetheless you have lived a
very sheltered life - isolated from a very young age from normal
Japanese society. No one can fault your combat skills, but to cope
with the trials of living in a real community outside the
clan.well...we cannot know how you will fare."

Of course, Ranma failed to see what the fuss was about. "Is that really
necessary sensei? After all, I've managed well enough with just Lano
for company."

"Ranma there are many ways to defeat an opponent aside from
physically overcoming him, or her. I am not blind - I have seen how
you deal with others your own age - especially girls."

Her son had the grace to blush at that. For the martial artist/ninja, the
hazy concept of the opposite sex had always remained just that - a
hazy concept. He found the idea mysteriously intriguing, and
wondered at what his Korean companion played at fussing with them
on a higher level all the time. In stark contrast, the pigtailed boy
tended to avoid the issue entirely - he was cordial and friendly - but
that was the utmost extent. For the moment girls could be likened to
boys - they were friends, occasionally sparring partners, and
not.....whatever it was Lano saw them as.

"I had hoped that you might follow Iyarasora Lano's example - well, at
least the idea of it." The Korean was a little overboard in his initiative,
stringing his own personal cadre of female fans whilst refusing to
commit to any one on a serious level. Seeing her son's exasperated
look, she added, "I'm not asking you to convert into a social animal -
just simply be cautious when dealing with people outside our sphere -
as you will have to eventually do when we leave for China." Thinking
of her own discussion with Kagora with concerns to Khu Lon, the
swordmaster took a moment to mention, "There are some in the
world who would seek to take advantage of your na�vet�" (he winced
at that), "and make use of your high standing in our Clan. Like it or
not, you now bear the responsibility to uphold Shinkasa honour - and
some may seek to weaken the clan through you." She said no more
on that, leaving her kohai to puzzle out the cryptic nature of her words.

"Now, on to the more critical piece of information you have to know."
She gestured to the open doorway. "Come with me."

As they walked, Ranma rapidly identified the course the pair were
taking. In due time they arrived at Master Kagora's dojo - it seemed
that no matter what happened he always ended up here.

What was perhaps surprising was that apparently from the ninja
master's inquiring gaze, he had not expected their presence - where
the pigtailed ninja had grown accustomed to Kagora's knowing nearly
everything beforehand. Mutely, Meyah's father observed as she led
her son before him.

"Ranma, on some occasions, Master Kagora is a dog."

Silence....

More silence....

"Huh?"

This time Kagora did clutch his head and groan mournfully. "I thought I
asked you to be tactful, *daughter*."

"And sometimes, I am a bird."

"E-excuse me, err sensei?"

"Kami above Meyah are you trying your best to disrupt the situation
utterly and completely?"

His daughter only grinned, her eyes twinkling cheekily.

"I swear your antics will drive me to an early grave."

"Not likely, Master Kagora - I learnt long ago that nothing will drive you
to any grave, early or otherwise."

And of course Ranma continued to gape, totally bewildered at the
incomprehensible exchange occurring before him.

Finished with her fun for the moment, Meyah continued. "Now that the
appropriate atmosphere has been set, I can begin." She hesitated to
organize her tale. "Your history lessons have taught you that Clan
Shinkasa was founded more than three thousand years ago by five
siblings - three brothers and two sisters. What history has not
revealed however was that one of them - the younger sister, and third
born of the five - was inflicted with a curious 'property' - for want of a
better word. Whenever she was doused with cold water, her body
transformed, almost instantly, into the form of a black panther.
Thankfully, hot water would initiate a reversion back to her true human
body, and she would remain thus until her next encounter with cold
water."

The swordmaster ignored her son's disbelieving gaze, as she
paused for breath. "This curious shape shifting form was attained at a
somewhat legendary place nestled in the Bayankala Mountain Range
within central China - known as the Springs of Jusenkyo - although in
those ancient times it lived under a differing title. For a simple
description it is a flat wetland with several hundred individual natural
water springs dotted about in random fashion over a vast area. It was
said that the spirit of a life form was to be found in every pool of water
- the spirit of the soul that drowned there. And so any unfortunate
individual who happens to fall into that spring will adopt this form as if
they had been born into it - that is until they find some hot water.
There are many different types of animals - horses, tigers, mice,
bears - a wide variety - not to mention different humans as well."

Ranma couldn't help but shudder at that concept - imagining himself
morphed into a grisly body like a worm or something equally
undesirable.

"And so, Shinkasa Ashika faced both a considerable array of
problems and advantages. Her animal form was quieter, faster, and
more powerful than a natural human - highly useful enhancements to
any ninja. Even the cat's colouration was suitable to night stalking.
Unfortunately though, black panthers are a somewhat rarity in China
and Japan - considering that in those times they were not to be found
in Eastern Asia as a whole. Daily life became a rigorously stressful
chore of continually hunting for hot water - you wouldn't believe how
easily one can get wet where natural events such as rain can cause
an instant change in the most inappropriate situations.

In any case there were soon village outcries of 'rogue demon shape-
shifters' running through the populace, and in desperation of
preserving themselves and the secrecy of their art, the five fled back
to China whence they came in the hope of finding a cure. It is not
known exactly for how long the Shinkasa founders journeyed in
search of a remedy, but records suggest that they eventually ended
up in the highlands of Tibet of all places - wherein a cure was
discovered allowing the bearer to control his or her form at will, and
negate the effects of water. Indeed, it was a relatively simple concept
- although to date the Shinkasa are the only people who know how to
shapeshift Jusenkyo forms at will." Meyah added with a mysterious
gaze.

Since the first time that the word 'China' had been mentioned in his
mother's tirade, Ranma had developed an inkling of the possible link
between this historical episode and his own future - but he remained
silent.

"To other 'victims' of the springs, the magic is a curse - but to us it is
a supreme ability.- one that is coveted amongst the Ninjitsu that
people are able to move about in a virtually undetectable guise. And
thus, after establishing the control, the remaining four voluntarily
doused themselves in their carefully chosen springs to 'attain' a
second body, so to speak. That tradition was continued thereon as
an honour for the most skilled of the Clan members - to this very day."
The last was said with clear meaning.

*Oh boy.* A mixture of doubt and wary trepidation was written on the
ninja trainee's features. Meyah would never joke in a situation such as
this - and Master Kagora never fooled around full stop. He recalled
his mother's words at the beginning of this conversation. *Sometimes
Master Kagora is a dog? Oh boy.*

"Of course, there are many reasons why the Shinkasa Clan have
survived for so long, even to this day - but one of them is the fact that
the highest ranking clan members can virtually disappear into the
background in the most desperate situations."

Here, Kagora interrupted, "I think a demonstration is in order not so?"

His daughter nodded in agreement. "Who first?"

"I think you can have the honour, my daughter."

The swordmaster nodded before turning to her son, "Are you ready
for this? It can come as quite a shock to the unprepared."

"Hai sensei." He was as ready as he would ever be for a situation
like this.

She took a step back, as her son watched inquisitively, loosening the
ties that held the collar of her grey shirt together. "It can be quite an
inconvenience to try to get out of human clothing when all you have is
a pair of wings."

Ranma only nodded dumbly. This was already turning toward the far
fetched.

Meyah closed her eyes, straightening her back - then abruptly she
shrank almost instantaneously - seeming to disappear into the folds
of her roomy clothing, which fluttered gracefully into a disarrayed
heap to the floor. Her son could not help but gasp a little as he saw
his mother vanish before his very eyes.

Totally accustomed to the spectacle, the still human ninja master
merely stepped forwards, reaching into the folds of his daughter's
clothes and gently pulled out a..pulled out a..."M-Mom?"

"Kaaaaaarrrr" she responded neutrally.

"Come now Ranma you didn't really expect her to say anything
productive did you?" the aged master queried pleasantly.

The boy continued to stare transfixed like a bird totally fascinated by
a snake. Mom was..well currently she was a sleek, brown
feathered falcon, with golden highlights tinging her wingtips. Her belly
and chest was covered with what appeared to be a softer downy
layer of feathers, which ruffled slightly as she shook herself, perched
upon her father's outstretched wrist. Head cocked to one side, Meyah
gazed intently at her son in only the way that a bird of prey could, one
yellow irised eye blinking at him amusedly.

Actually, to Ranma's eyes she was admittedly very beautiful - a sleek
hunter's frame designed for speed - the grace of a born killer. It was
just that she was also...

"Mom?"

"Kaarrrrrrr" her eyes were more communicative, shining as if to say,
*Well what did you expect me to say?*

Alright, so the tale was true - his mother was a bird. He could live with
that - after all when one really thought about it - it wasn't so
unbelievable. *Gawd*, who was he kidding, this was downright bizarre.
In literally one sitting the concept of reality had been overturned - sure
it was easy enough to accept chi blasts, metal slicing katanas (*and
hands as well*, he considered dryly) - but morphing mothers?

A little impatiently, Kagora cut in, "Yes yes well I think we have learnt
enough from this have we not? I trust you are now convinced of the
credibility of our historical reiteration?"

"H-hai sensei." A new thought occurred to the boy. "Master? Do you
turn into a dog?"

"That is so," he answered gravely, "and I needn't inform you that this -
and any other shapeshifting abilities are to be kept as secret as
possible - even to other Clan members. Only the masters and a
select few have the skill - and as such it is not a matter of general
discussion. Is that clear?"

The boy bowed formally, and affirmation of his commitment. His
master accepted this with an approved shake of his head. "I will take
my daughter to more private quarters where she may change back to
her human form - as you can see the clothes that she wears are
unaffected by the transformation." So saying the ninja master
reached down and scooped the pile of undergarments and daywear,
then floated over to his adjoining rooms, Meyah still perched patiently
on his wrist.

He returned a moment later, closing the door behind him. "Now,
would you care to see my animal form?"

"O-okay..sensei," he murmured dubiously.

And with no further ado, another heap of cloth consisting of Kagora's
own knee length black gi was produced, whilst amidst it emerged a
rather disgruntled canine, vainly attempting to extricate himself from
the undershorts that had previously girthed a human waist.
Unthinkingly, the dog's kohai moved forward to assist, before the
peculiarity of the scenario took hold. He tried to imagine himself from
an external perspective - pulling a pair of underpants off a domestic
creature.

"Really Master Kagora I would have thought that so experienced a
ninja master would have remembered to doff his clothing *before*
shapeshifting." Meyah, having returned to her normal mode of
appearance and dress kneeled before her father, and between the
two of them managed to pull the exasperated dog free.

"Arff!" Again as before there was a decided barrier to
communication, though habitually his daughter knew from long
experience that this was his way of conveying '*Insolent Child*'.

Observing her own son's curious cursory glance, she explained. "We
have never figured out exactly what species this dog is - some cross
between Alsatian and Malamute." Which was entirely academic to
the confused boy, since he was no expert on dogs and knew not of
either foreign name. Ranma noted that following the Master's human
age, the dog's coat showed traces of white, especially along its
heavy muzzle. However, Kagora's form still carried the aura of a
working class animal - long hefty legs a suitable compromise
between power and speed, the sharp forward pointed ears and
exceptional fangs enhancing the ninja's 'no-nonsense' attitude. *A dog
with the catfist - how appropriate.*

Actually, now that these transformations had been so evidently
demonstrated, he found himself growing at least somewhat
accustomed to the idea. It was as Master Meyah had suggested an
infinitely useful property, when one considered that dogs and birds
might be able to go places where no man could. As well, it was a
convenient escape alternative - to suddenly 'disappear' and be
replaced by an unrelated creature.

Unconcerned by his student's speculative gaze, Master Kagora
nonchalantly gathered his own clothing, dragging it between his jaws.
Without assistance from either, the large mammal jogged to the
same rooms from which Meyah had earlier emerged.

There was a meaningful silence whilst the ninja master presumably
re-dressed himself. Meyah took the momentary solitude to observe
her son - for someone who had just viewed both his mother and
grandfather (of sorts) turn literally into beasts - well he was taking the
shock surprisingly well. "Ranma, you are aware how all of this applies
directly to you, are you not?"

"Y-yeah, I think so sensei - I am gonna to be taken to this Jusenkyo in
our upcoming trip right?"

Her eyes crinkled ever so slightly - the boy had a tendency to slip into
his old manner of speech during times of stress. "That is so. The
village which we will be journeying to is called Joketsuzoku - the
home of the Amazons." She waved him off as he drew breath to
query just how Amazons ended up in central China. "All the details
will be revealed at a later time. In any case..."

"Yes, in any case," Kagora took over from the doorway. "The village
of Joketsuzoku is located relatively close to the Springs of Jusenkyo -
and they consider themselves unofficial guardians of the premises.
We will remain under their hospitality for a year or so, and in such
time you will be given the opportunity to attain a Jusenkyo form."

"I will get to choose another body?" That was a decision he had not
been expecting a need to make within his own lifetime.

"No, fate will choose your form for you, as it has always been."
Kagora indicated that the discussion was over for the moment with a
characteristic hand gesture. "Loremaster Rishoto will provide you
with the information in its entirety in your next private lesson."

"Hai sensei's. And thank you...I guess." his kohai stated somewhat
dubiously.

"Go now Ranma - I believe it is your turn to prepare dinner." Meyah
added gently.

Without another word, the pigtailed boy disappeared with the same
silence that marked out all three in the dojo.

Again, Kagora's favoured room was enveloped in silence.

"Well, Master Kagora I think that all things considered, it went quite
well. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Master Meyah - you handled that part of our heritage
very..uniquely indeed." *Insolent child.*


*************


Lano offered a cheerful greeting as he accepted a generous ladle-full
of miso soup from his friend. From the time they were considered
mature enough, all clan trainees - male or female, were introduced to
the fine art of the culinary skills - as part of their self-sufficiency in
life
(whether they liked it or not). And incidentally, Ranma did NOT like it,
especially since it was discovered that he had quite a talent for
cooking delectable dishes. For some reason the pigtailed ninja was
continually haunted by an image of himself bedecked in apron and
bonnet, and armed with a pair of chopsticks whilst he pottered
continually amongst simmering pots and pans - now and then
pausing to lift a lid and sample a taste - no that suyaki was much too
salty, and as for those fishballs....Ranma cut that train of thought
off very sharply. *Yeeeeeee.*

>From the Korean's perspective the erstwhile chef was seen to shiver
visibly. Lano grinned anyway - he knew just what his companion was
thinking. "And I'd love some of that deee-licious beef tapinyaki which
only you can make to such perfection."

The pigtailed ninja's eyes narrowed very dangerously. "Shaddup
Lano."

Oh no, much more of your special sauce. Much much much..."

"Laaanooo. How would you like me to use this spoon in ways you
could never have possibly dreamed of?"

The Korean wisely chose to move on. Friendly teasing could only go
so far.

Muttering unintelligible phrases, where most probably would have
appreciated their unintelligibility, Ranma returned to stirring the miso
soup. Taking a surreptitious sip, his ever-present frown diminished
just a little. Lano was right about one thing - his food *was* delicious.


***********


Finding his comrade at their traditional eating table, Ranma plonked
down heavily, the movement devoid of the usual catlike grace. "Man
what a day."

"You're telling me - you wouldn't believe what I learnt from Master
Kinaro today." Surreptitiously Lano's eyes scanned the crowd,
gauging any within hearing range. It was then that his gaze fell across
the table before him where Ranma was returning the stare with equal
intensity. A moment of silent communication passed between the
pair, before each realised that they were thinking of the same
'discovery'.

"So.." A pause, "what're their forms?"

"A falcon, and a dog - mother's the falcon. How about yours?"

At that the Korean let loose a blatant smirk which his friend guessed
had probably been present throughout the entire 'Master to student'
talk. "A pigeon."

His counterpart's eyebrows shot as high as was physically possible.
"Master Kinaro - a..."

"Yup, that's right - a pigeon. Took me by shock as well - I had to bite
myself to stop from laughing out loud."

Ranma tried to equate the muscle bound thick chested monster of a
man (okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration) with a fluffy,
docile, seemingly harmless..."By the Kami - a pigeon."

"Actually - it's quite a good disguise if you really think about it." Lano
ignored his counterpart's responding choke on a current mouthful of
rice. "No, really - after all pigeons are everywhere in urban areas -
and nobody would ever believe that muscle man Miumasarano of all
people would change into one."

His friend hesitated, "You know, Master Kinaro hates that surname."

Bemused, the Korean commented, "I would too if I had a name like
that - Miumasarano Kinaro."

Absently, the pigtailed trainee returned to the topic, "I wonder what
form I'll get?"

"Yeah," Lano agreed, appearing worried for the first time, "I mean it
would be downright awful to be stuck with....say a fish's body."

The reply came as a snort, "Baka, how can a fish drown in a spring?"

The Korean had the decency to look down sheepishly. "I guess so."
Brightening, he added, "Anyway it doesn't help to worry about it now -
we'll deal with that when the time arrives. Besides I have other things
to concern me for the present." The last was whispered with a
pointed look at the female side of the eating hall.

"My God how can you behave like that all the time - stringing them all
along?" a decidedly more conservative Ranma queried
exasperatedly.

His friend issued him with a wounded look, "I'm not stringing them
along on purpose - I'm just nice to the girls, that's all. They draw
they're own conclusions from that."

"Pick a girl, go out with her, and get over it - you know you'd get on
better with the other guys if you'd make up your mind instead of
having half the girls tagging along after you."

Lano valiantly attempted to shift the direction of this conversation,
"You know the only reason that so many 'go' after me is that they
know they can't 'get' you." Without waiting for the expected wave of
protests he continued, "And you're the one to talk about making
friends - I'm the only person you ever talk to, with the exception of the
masters."

Ranma had no retort to that - where his best friend had quoted the
same concept as proposed by Master Meyah. "You're right - but then
socialising is only second priority to me - the art comes first."
Returning to his original tirade the teenager added, "And that isn't
any excuse for your indecision."

"Hey, I'll make my decision when I'm good and ready - in the
meantime I like to keep my options open."

The trainee sighed, "Whatever you say Lano."


***********


"Whatever you say Akane", Ryouga sighed forlornly. She had cadged
him into yet another sparring match, like she did every time - since he
never really could say no to her, not when she used those sweet
begging eyes. All he could do was train with the same vigour - to offer
a challenge to her - after all he had to be worthy of her regard at the
very least. And anyway, Akane was the best martial artist in the whole
of Nerima (which for a district like that was a hefty accolade), and the
best route to hone his own formidable skills. Absently, the broad
shouldered youth reached to touch an aching bruise on his arm - if
only it didn't hurt so much.

"I really have to keep training Ryouga - I mean what if the family is
attacked again?" Surprisingly, and for no apparent reason, Genma
had remained somewhat tight lipped about the whole affair, despite
the family's persistence in locating the assailant. And although he
was out of hospital, the injured leg was far from restored - requiring a
set cast to prevent agitation of the deep, but neat wound. Currently
the old Anything Goes Practitioner was resigned to rolling about on a
wheel chair - the only reason he remained there at all being the stern
warning from Doctor Tofu that trying to walk would damage the
precisely re-connected tendons and hamper the right calf. The word
'crippled' and 'martial artist' could never exist in the same sentence -
especially for the Mutsabeto Kakuto Ryu.

Even the bandanna clad boy, who only knew the injured sensei by his
relation to Akane was appalled by the woundings - for it took a
martial artist of considerable skill to down Saotome Genma - and
thus was a figure to be respected.

For Akane the matter was more straight forward - somebody had
attacked her sensei, and it was her duty to see that no further harm
came to anybody. The anonymous attacker had beaten Soun's old
friend to be sure, but then again so had she on regular occasions -
and Akane was more than prepared to face an opponent matching
up to her level.

If he ever dared to venture in these parts again - the Anything Goes
heir vowed he would pay.


***********


Master Kinaro slumped heavily into his appointed seat. Another week
another council.

"I am glad we have all assembled punctually," Rishoto began, "The
general order of business can be attended to later - the primary
mode for discussion tonight is the upcoming China expedition to the
village of Joketsuzoku."

"What is there to discuss?" another Master from the far table
responded. "We have their permission, we go, we train. What more?"

Kagora took the opportunity to intercede with his own query, "I will be
going as always - but who will accompany me?"

A wide assortment of mumbles, and murmuring was his answer.
Dealing with the Amazons was to most a mixture of new learning
experiences, and general headaches. Their wide array of regulations
and laws, as well as odd notions on custom and etiquette made
interaction a somewhat sticky business - usually best avoided unless
one possessed a pressing desire for an exotic holiday from the Clan
life.

"I guess I am obligated to go as well," the weapons master grumbled,
perhaps with more mock bluster than intended.

Sweetly mocking, Shinkasa Maya responded, "Now then Master
Miumasarano, it isn't all that down and dreary. As I recall, from your
last visit that strapping young lady - Carmen wasn't it? - took a right
fancy to you. She will look forward to seeing her old 'acquaintance'
again."

The object of her teasing only barely resisted the temptation to bang
his forehead in a most un-ninjerly fashion against the oaken council
table. Of course Maya had to choose the most nagging of memories
from his last journey to China to harp upon. The lady in question, Ka-
mien, was a very pretty woman to be sure - but like all Amazons, once
she decided she wanted something, the magenta haired beauty was
extremely persistent in striving to attain it. And unfortunately for
Kinaro, she had decided then that she wanted the weapons master
very much indeed. Her always flaunting him with loving affection - with
or without a formal marriage challenge (the Shinkasa/Amazon
agreements had seen to that) had been the source of constant
humourous speculation for the bereaved Shinkasa master.

That had been more than eight years past, before he had taken Lano
as a kohai. Since then both had moved on - Ka-mien marrying one of
the village men, and Kinaro...well Kinaro always had the art of
Ninjitsu. Time had dampened the memory considerably, and he was
surprised that Maya had remembered it at all. "I will thank you to not
mention that affair again, Master. And I will nonetheless go - Iyarasora
Lano still is my student."

"Your company will be most appreciated," Kagora hastily interceded,
breaking down the potential bickering. "So for the four initiates - Kino,
Iyarasora, Nagara and Saotome, as well as three masters - that is a
comfortable proportion."

"Excuse me - *three* masters?"

"Of course", Meyah answered, "I am Ranma's sensei as well as his
guardian."

"Yes of course." Guard master Hitoshi's tone was mildly dry. "If that is
all settled then we can move onto other matters. I have a proposition
to take on five of the white band trainees into the guard - to boost our
eastern operations.."

Kinaro sighed heavily, as the current master droned on with the
night's business. Yes, it was to be a looong session.


************


'Yamakaro'. According to this topographical geography map that was
the name of the mountain bordering Hashima - a smallish town in
central Hokkaido. It had taken Ukyou a very long while to even find the
place - since Hashima was minute enough to remain unlisted in the
major Japanese territorial maps. Even here, there was no record of
any village or other population group on the mountain proper.
However, it was his only lead, and therefore would have to do.
Posting a brief missive to his father which simply stated the finding of
Saotome Genma, but the failure to locate his son, the okonomiyaki
chef headed for the appropriate rail station to cross to the island of
Hokkaido. It would be several days in the least before he could find
the dratted village. Hopefully however, this would all be over soon and
Harakuna would finally accept his son as proper heir to the Kuonji
name. Monetary possessions aside, that was all that Ukyou had left.

Absently, the martial artist considered what the internal battle
between conscience, vengeance, and honour would yield when the
time came to face Saotome Ranma. For the pigtailed boy's father the
result had been a scarring chest wound. Ukyou wondered whether he
really could do *that* again.

*I'll know when we meet face to face - I hope.*


***********


The subject of the okonomiyaki chef's whirling thoughts stood several
hundred miles away, facing off patiently against his only rival. Here, in
the comfort of the ever present blackness of the night, the two stood
poised in the centre of the western courtyard. Between themselves,
the pair had developed over the years a new training regimen, which
they called 'blind fighting'. Hardly the most grandiose of titles, but it
served.

No supervisors, no masters, no weapons. Only them, the dark, and
the art. Ranma closed his eyes firmly - in such poor light they would
only be a hindrance. The moon was yet to rise, and as far as they
were from civilisation, there was no light to see with - only to distract.
In a similar mode of thought Lano lowered his grey bandanna over
the bridge of his nose, obscuring vision. Each waited with endless
passivity - waiting for the first move, and the first sound.

The pigtailed ninja suppressed the vicarious thrill which coursed like
a hot electric current down the spine and throughout his body. This is
what he lived for - Ninjitsu, Mutsabeto Kakuto - the beauty of the
combat. Here was the art in its absolutely purest form - two
combatants striving against each other in a test of skill, strength and
speed - and the victory held no material gain, save for the sake of the
Art.

Lano tensed swiftly at the faintest rattle of movement upon hewn
stone. It might have been Ranma - but then again it might not. It was
too risky to react to half-guessed flittings in the blackness. Forcibly
relaxing, he evened his breath and nourished starving lungs. In such
silence, even the huff of air passing over a tightened throat was the
herald to doom.

Unknown, his opponent stood a mere dozen feet - canted a little to
the left, head slowly turning to gauge the change in sound patterns his
ears received from shifting angles. Super sensitive hearing was
Ranma's advantage - a legacy from his childhood trauma - but it was
not enough to win the battle outright - at least not with Lano. The
Korean was well practiced making whatever use of the fact that his
opponent tended to move first in these confrontations.

So even after establishing where the other teenager lay - and a rough
estimation of the direction Lano was facing relative to himself,
Ranma waited - tracking the regular pattern of inhale and exhale. And
when the Korean was at the greatest point of the latter, the pigtailed
ninja made the move.

Not totally unaware of the change in atmosphere, Lano leapt into a
reverse spin, trying for a blind sweep with his heel, though his
currently empty lungs hampered the flow of his movements. Ranma
had timed it well. Feeling the breeze of a high speed limb in close
proximity, the pigtailed ninja readjusted the inset angle, and dived
through with a two fingered punch with the second knuckles of his
index and middle fingers, striking just below the ribcage. In the dark
no time was wasted seeking debilitating shiatsu points - simply
ruggedly fast impacts.

Lano could not help but gasp at the sharp, and thus very painful jab,
which knocked his diaphragm off kilter. Wildly, he rolled to one side,
unknowingly saving himself from a finishing elbow to the skull base
which subsequently passed harmlessly to the side. He was now in a
dangerous position - the combination of the ever-present need to
breathe and the fire of the bruising to the muscle required for that
task, wrenching an audible series of ragged gulps. With his rival now
able to constantly track his position, remaining still would lead to a
very brief ending. So deciding, he abandoned all pretense of defence
and came rushing.

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in attitude, the pigtailed ninja
reacted badly to the rush - only barely managing to deflect the worst
of the Korean's level foot strikes. Blindness caused a degree of
uncertainty on both combatants' parts - thus it was inevitable that the
majority of Lano's attacks fell astray, though similarly Ranma's
blocking ability was hampered by the loss of sight.

Seeking to escape the deadlock, the Anything Goes practitioner
cleared himself with a wide foot sweep and then leapt high, clipping
his rival as he arced gracefully overhead. Lano's response was to
merely position himself accordingly, catching the landing teenager in
a powerful bear hug totally unfitting for Ninjitsu. The move cost him
very heavily though - where the Korean relied upon his greater bulk to
absorb the close contact punches from his companion. That split
second of forced immobility was all that was required for the finishing
move - a slamming chop to the neck which abruptly felled the
struggling Ranma.

Unable to stand with his friend's dead weight, Lano rudely dumped
the unconscious boy upon the hard stones, before shortly succumbing
to the myriad of strikes which had coursed his torso in the last second
of battle. Despite the victory, the Korean had taken the worst of the
brunt fighting (such was the price for trying to contain a fighter like
Ranma) - the compounded results leaving him decidedly woozy.

Forcing fiery breaths through abused lungs, he nonetheless reached
into the opening of his cotton shirt and pulled out the ever-faithful
notepad. "Victory number two hundred and eighty-nine for me," Lano
commented pleasantly to his slumbering friend, adding dryly, "You
won one, I won one - my what a productive day."

Still, any win over his rival was to be greatly cherished - their
infrequency only boosted the value of each successive mark added
to his side of the tally sheet. Rising to his feet, Lano was painfully
reminded of the cost of this battle. He was positive that such
outcomes could be more easily appreciated if they didn't hurt so
damn much.

Ranma continued to remain blissfully unaware of the current scenario.
Possessing not the mild healer's skills of his counterpart, the best
Lano could offer was to re-arrange his friend's splayed limbs in a
more comfortable position and await a self-induced awakening.

Actually that was a plus side to losing most of their matches - since
the pigtailed ninja would always be on hand to soothe bruises and
cure headaches on both sides. Sighing in his own plight, with only a
comatose friend for company, Lano resolved to wait.


**************


Hibiki Ryouga shivered reflexively as he stood at the front balcony of
the Hibiki residence. This early into December, and the weather was
unusually cold. Still, he was more than well used to enduring the
extremities of nature's weather - with such an aimlessly directionless
life the bandanna boy led, one quickly grew used to the variance of
the outdoors.

A directionless life indeed - that is until a fatefully wondrous day when
his path had crossed one Tendo Akane. She had taken pity on
Ryouga's ineptitude and tirelessly led him to and from school every
day (that is every day when he was available for school and not fallen
lost from a midnight trip to the bathroom).

Each morning when the teenager arose in his own bed, Akane would
be outside knocking to guide him to Furinkan. And every time he saw
her, Ryouga was that much more grateful for her kindness. He knew
not why a soul such as himself would deserve such attention - that
only increased the generosity to reverent eyes. Touching a hand to
his ever present bandannas, the muscled teenager considered the
added bonus - the youngest Tendo girl's care had also improved his
martial arts skills to an unexpected level beyond his own envisioning.

Akane was a welcome friend to a lonely life. As was to be expected,
both the Hibiki mother and father were noticeably absent from the
family residence - as they had been for the past fourteen months.
Dryly, their son wondered at the God sent miracle that enabled them
to stay with each other long enough to fall in love and conceive their
child. With only his faithful dog for a sense of constancy (who luckily
was able to look after herself for long durations), the welcome
intrusion of the long haired Tendo daughter had become a focal point
in Ryouga's daily existence.

Yes, Akane was a very good friend - and that was just it - just a friend.
And oh did Ryouga dream of a time when she would see him as
perhaps something more. Of course, that could only happen after he
attained the ability to actually speak coherently of such matters to
such a girl - or any girl for that matter (ie. never).

The boy sighed forlornly - even in the happier time of his childhood,
life still stank. Returning to reality, he now faced the present issue -
*How do I get off this balcony?*

And within fifteen minutes the eternal lost boy was fulfilling his title to
the utmost degree (he was very lost).


***********


"Nggggraaaaarrgh."

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Lano commented
pleasantly. "I was starting to get worried that we'd have to summon
Master Meyah to wake you up."

The object of his commentary raised an aching head to gaze up at
the dimly lit ceiling. During the hours following the battle the Korean
had managed to lug his thankfully comparatively light companion
back to Meyah's quarters with the minimum of fuss to the other Clan
members.

Delicately pressing the sensitively sore area at the nape of his neck,
Ranma felt the impact point which had finalized the match. "Kanto's
slam point?"

The Korean nodded at the correct deduction, "Yup - it's a good move
for strength freaks like myself."

"I'll bet it is," the downed ninja nodded dryly. "Man, I thought you
knocked my head off with that last one." He paused, "So how are you
feeling?"

"Alright I guess - all things considered." Lano patted his stomach for
emphasis - then winced at the action. "That was a pretty savage
punch you dished out there - knocking me under the ribs like that."

Suddenly concerned, Ranma leaned forward, ignoring the droning in
his own skull. "Do you need any help with that?"

"Naw, save your chi for tomorrow - word has it that the Masters are
accelerating our training since we only have a few days until the 'bye-
bye for China.'"

"That soon?" Lano somehow always seemed to be the first with the
'word' on everything. Kami knew how he stayed so well informed.
*Probably from talking to the girls all the time*, the pigtailed ninja
considered wryly.

"Yeah, well goodnight - and thanks for the fight." The weary Korean
stood to return to his own rooms.

"Goodnight Lano." Ranma fervently hoped that a night's worth of
sleep would eradicate the aches garnered from this latest fight.


************


"What is that Great grandmother?" the young girl asked inquisitively.

" Japanese, Xian Pu." Her teacher and guardian sternly admonished.

The object of her criticism repeated herself in the designated
language - or at least tried to. "Great grandfather...Wh..Whoo that
thing?"

Giving up for the moment, the exasperated elder returned to their
native Mandarin dialect, "We'll try again tomorrow child - now as to
your question - I am filing away a letter sent to me from a village ally."

Now that peaked her attention, for the Amazons had few friends in the
world. Actually, now that she seriously considered it, the purple haired
teenager could not recall there being any allies at all. Seeing her
heir's intent gaze, Khu Lon wearily continued. "The letter is from the
Shinkasa Clan - a 'tribe' of Japanese ninjas who have helped us from
time to time. A contingent of them are travelling to our village in a
week or two to train under Amazon tutelage." The matriarch was
indeed a very well respected member of the council - both for her
fighting prowess, and her wisdom - but she was still only human - and
a very old and tired one at that. "Now girl, it is late and I am tired. Do
not pester me with more questions - you will see in good time."

"Yes great grandmother" Xian Pu stated ritualistically. She accepted
the somewhat barbed retort for what it was - a gruff goodnight.
Climbing the stairway to her own bedroom, she considered on what
had been learnt.

Visitors from abroad as far as her fifteen years of life had been
experienced were non-existent, so thus this would a be a most
interesting spectacle to observe. Added to that was the prospect that
she might test her vaunted skills against martial artists from outside
her sphere - indeed outside her country. The teenaged girl was
already virtually the unquestioned champion of the unmarried
Joketsuzoku members - but now laid before her was the choicest
opportunity to further expand the range of her combat experiences,
and to match skills with a new foreign fighting style.

Yes, overall this looked to be an enjoyable few weeks. That is, of
course, if great grandmother would let her spar with the visitors.



************
************
************



Author's Notes.
Sorry if this took longer than usual - but it was quite extensive to write.
In fact I am nearly finished the next part of the series, so the next delay
should be less. There's no need to speculate on the future of all our
beloved characters - all will come in good time. I'll let my work speak
the rest for itself. Stay around for Chapter 5 - foreign lands.

You can find the rest of my works at http://members.xoom.com/dojohouse
Or email at dojohouse@xoommail.com


Generic statement.
Comments and criticism are always welcome (flame me if you
must), but I won't accept any ethical stuff from people who hate any
particular love match ups which may or may not occur in this series.
I personally don't really have any objection to any possible girls
Ranma could end up with (although Ukyou is my personal
favourite) - no don't cringe I also like Akane/Ranma,
Shampoo/Ranma etc. ones too, but I've gotta have a favourite.
Every new fanfiction I write will have a different match up (assuming
that is there is any match up at all). If your particular pairing hasn't
come up yet, then tough rocks - I'll get to it.


Things to note.

I am well aware that in reality the Japanese do not computate their
references by Western letters and numbers (referring to the opening
of this chapter).

The chi focusing techniques are the same as those practiced by
several Buddhist sects, as a way of attaining meditation focus.
Incidentally, Lano's 'regional' Tae Kwon Do is based on a style
described to me by a Korean friend who practices a version of his
own. I personally only have first hand knowledge of tae chi (yes, it is
actually a martial art - not an exercise) and a smattering of kenjutsu.
And I'm not very good at either.

Kanto's slam point is an actual impact zone, roughly 3 to 4 cm behind
the ear lobe, at the base of the skull. Hard impacts there can easily
stun any human being. Kids, please don't try this at home.




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