A long despairing sigh drifted off into black emptiness.

"Protect the timestream," a voice muttered irritably. "Guard the princess. Guide the Senshi." Sailor Pluto, Senshi of Time and guardian of the timegates had long since moved past mere boredom into a state of deep ennui. Though there was little enough to do now, her time had been quite active just after the fall of the Moon Kingdom.

Oh, yes, she had resisted, at first... after all, her orders were to prevent manipulation of the timestream, not to engage in such practices herself. The boredom grew quickly, however, and since she was unable to simply remove herself from the timestream for the necessary period, as she had to watch for manipulation attempts by the numerous enemies of the Moon Kingdom, she was unable to escape it.

Until, that is, she had realized that she was quite capable of observing the possible futures while keeping an eye on the timestream. For a short while it had seemed almost like an entertainment program put on for her amusement. The terrible stress of the fall of the Moon Kingdom had ravaged her emotions and she had walled them off, hiding from the intense pain. With her darker, more painful emotions walled away, she was able to enjoy the lighter side, the humor of what she observed.

After a time though she began to once again empathize with those she was watching, particularly after spending some time observing herself. Oh, to be certain, she was well aware of the terrible hazards in knowing one's own future, but her boredom won that argument in short order. It only took a decade before she succumbed to the temptation to watch herself. Her emotional walls didn't last long after seeing her death in so many interesting ways.

With her defenses down, she began searching the future with a more deliberate intent, focusing on her friends and herself, for the future that held the promise of a long peace without the soul deadening loneliness she felt.

It was not long before she found Crystal Tokyo and she spent several hundred years tweaking, making subtle alterations to the world until the future line of Crystal Tokyo strengthened to the point that it took effort to even see anything other than its glittering spires in the timestream.

Boredom soon caught up with her again, as her attention was no longer needed to ensure the rise of Crystal Tokyo. She only needed the slightest attention on the timestream to detect a threat to that near certain future. She had been cautious and had deliberately avoided depending on her own abilities to reach that goal. Instead, she had designed things such that the stunningly wide array of possible futures remained, but the largest percentage of them by a wide margin led to that future, with but minor variations.

Of course, it did involve the destruction of most of the earth's population during a catastrophic freeze but that was merely a natural ice age with a corresponding rise in sea level. She didn't even have to do anything to make it happen; she merely had to ensure the survival of an appropriate proportion of the population.

That resilience had an unfortunate side-effect; her own growing ennui. Without the need for her constant monitoring and tweaking she had grown steadily more bored.

She had whiled away a few centuries by playing with events in different portions of the world to see how strange a series of events she could cause to happen without affecting the final outcome of the timestream. She had rationalized it as exercising her powers to keep in practice for when her princess reawakened.

For a while she focused on the lives of individuals, taking ordinary people and giving them extraordinary lives. That ended when her last effort, an assassin in feudal Japan, who had possessed a remarkable string of successes, gave up the katana. She had so enjoyed helping him that his incredible depression after the war finally ended hurt her deeply.

For years after she resisted the urge to meddle, but inevitably the boredom overcame her once again. She had then taken up future watching again, observing her princess and the Senshi in Crystal Tokyo in the different possible futures.

This closer look had led to a disturbing revelation. While none of them were truly lonely; they all had each other, after all; very few of the Senshi ever found someone to love, someone to live out their lives with.

As she looked on the relationship Haruka and Michiru had, she felt anew the deep pain of her loneliness. Watching as the Inner Senshi had occasional romances and the intermittent marriage with short-lived humans also brought that pang of loneliness. Even the short relationships they had were more than she and Hotaru, Sailor Saturn, had.

Their reputations were simply too strong; they were never able to find someone who would even try to see beyond their titles.

Briefly Setsuna considered the possiblity of a relationship with Hotaru, akin to what was shared between Haruka and Michiru, but when she explored the possibility in the timeline, she was horrified at the result. They had both had too much darkness in their lives, and though their shared pain created a strong bond, they drew each other down rather than lifting each other up.

"I wish I knew how Haruka and Michiru do it," she sighed. Thinking on that a bit further, she wondered. They were going to become close to a family unit as it was, though it would be some time before Hotaru became capable of that level of participation...

Ignoring the more unsettling implications in favor of the knowledge that in lives of thousands of years, a few years difference could hardly be a long term difficulty, Setsuna explored the possibility. Once again she was disturbed at the result.

They seemed polarized... it never really became more than two-way; though all six relationships progressed, it seemed to cycle; with Haruka's jealousy and Michiru's strong love of Haruka leaving Setsuna and Hotaru to drag each other down until Haruka and Michiru's guilt grew enough to let the two darker girls back into their circle. Angst and depression remained a disturbing constant.

For a time Setsuna despaired, until a thought finally occurred to her. Both she and Hotaru were basically unavailable before the founding of Crystal Tokyo. She would be too busy dealing with threats and watching the timeline, and Hotaru would be too young; neither would have time to search for a lifemate.

Yet, that time was one which held true hope for them both, for it was then that the possibility existed to find someone who would be able to see beyond their titles, for it was then that they had true civilian identities.

Setsuna was immediately cheered by the realization that searching for that potential lifemate now could solve both the problem of her and Hotaru's future happiness and even more importantly, her current ennui.

With an intense feeling of relief, Setsuna settled in to browse the timeline. "Focus on Juuban first," she muttered to herself. Even once she found the perfect target, she and Hotaru would still be limited in their ability to spend time outside of Senshi business, so it would be best if travel was not an issue.

Setsuna had been browsing the timeline, rolling it back and forth over a particular region in time, as she slowly expanded her search, when she came across a curious phenomenon. She was, of course, stopping regularly to observe a given time before moving on. Still, while the timeline was in motion, she was generally moving at a rate greater than a day or a week at a time. At such a rate, buildings were visible but people were little more than a blur.

It came as a surprise, therefore, when while scanning the timeline in the region of the Nerima prefecture, she saw a young man, clearly visible though seemingly transparent, with a brooding look of loneliness and despair that caught her attention. She stopped the scan of the timeline and the boy vanished. She moved more slowly through it and he reappeared on the roof as night fell. She stared at him in slight wonder. Why had he appeared even while the timeline was in such extreme motion?

Though his look of loneliness called to her, telling her that he knew how she felt, she ruthlessly supressed her empathy for the young man. The timegate seemed to be treating him differently and that made him a threat. She had to know why he appeared different in the timestream than a normal mortal.

So she began to watch his life more closely, advancing slowly, an hour at a time. She didn't follow his movements, leaving the view and perspective as it was.

"By the Moon," she said softly, feeling her emotional walls shatter as she finally realized why he had appeared so strangely in the view through the Timegates. It was not due to any strange fluctuation of time around him, nor some unusual power he carried.

It was simply that nearly every day for almost two years he would appear on that roof to sit and stare at the stars. Every night his look haunted her, though at times it was worse than others. It began, the first night he appeared there, with a look of loneliness and betrayal. As time passed the sense of betrayal faded quickly, replaced with a growing despair and hopelessness. By the end, his loneliness seemed to surpass even her own, as if in spite of living in a large city surrounded by people, he was even more utterly alone than she was, as if he had never known friendship, had not even the memory of better times to sustain him.

"He's cute," Setsuna said to the dark emptiness about her, "but he'll pull us down even further. Poor fellow." She thought then of the redheaded girl that showed up occasionally, taking the same spot on the roof. "He ought to get together with her," she said, thinking of the familiar look of pain on her face, then realized that they might actually be together. If their's was a situation like that of her and Hotaru, it could be that being together was holding them down.

Seeing them made her realize that she needed someone happier, someone vibrant, who could lift them both up from their depressions, ease the burden of duty they carried. "Would be nice if they could at least understand our pain, though," she mused. Setsuna had long since given up keeping her thoughts to herself. She needed the sound of her own voice to keep her sane.

She went on, putting the lonely boy from her mind as she broadened her search. She had completed her search of Tokyo and was considering where to look next, when she realized how foolish she was being. "Damnit, I'm worse than Minako's going to be," she muttered. "Just looking for a pretty face. I ought to start with finding someone who'll be able to survive the attacks in Juuban, since we have to find someone within that timeframe. Got to narrow the choices down somehow."

Checking the timeline for that particular time-period, she looked for any powerlevels that were on a par with the scouts. Starting near Tokyo, the first major match she found was atop a mountain in Japan. Watching the battle, she noted the participants as possiblities. She didn't watch long enough to see the change, nor did she recognize the redheaded girl. In motion, she seemed vibrant and full of life, and Setsuna did not connect her to the often bedraggled, always despondent star watcher.

When she came upon the battle with Saffron, she was astounded. Ranma, holding Akane in his arms, became recognizable as the boy she remembered from the rooftop in Nerima. She had just witnessed a most impressive display of skill, and power that rivaled Saturn's. Not as strong as her strongest attack, certainly, but it more than overmatched any of the Senshi's lesser attacks.

Seeing this, she dropped for the moment the other possibilities to focus on the boy. Focusing the timegate to follow him, she reset the gates to his birth and settled back to watch his life. She had time enough to watch several lifetimes worth before the Senshi awakened, though she had not intended to spend so much time on any individual. She wasn't sure she would spend that much time on this boy, either, but he had come to her attention twice now.

A smile grew slowly on her face as she watched his childhood antics. He was certainly an adorable little boy. Her smile faded quickly, as she watched his father sell the toddler, then steal him back. "How could he?" she ranted, "How could any father do such a thing to his son?!"

As she continued watching, she became spellbound by the exuberant child, delighting in his enthusiasm as his father began teaching him his art. She paled in anger when she saw Genma trick his son into placing his handprint on a seppuku contract. "What kind of father are you!?"

She watched in tears as Ranma cried himself to sleep a few nights later, and Genma, ignoring the boy's homesickness, simply hit him for keeping him awake. She marveled when after a few weeks, Ranma managed to put on a cheerful face each day and train with enthusiasm, even as he cried silent tears each night.

So it went, as Setsuna watched, unable to tear herself away, day in and day out, as Ranma grew, though he had not yet been born. With him she laughed and cried. Regularly she raged at Genma, cursing him with the vilest curses she could think of and planning vengeance on him. Whether she chose Ranma or no, she intended to visit hell on that damned excuse of a father.

Still, as she watched them head to China, she pondered on the look she remembered on his face. He looked then as if he had no friends, yet she was certain that he had viewed both Kuonji Ukyou and Hibiki Ryouga as friends.

When he fell into the spring of drowned girl in the valley of sorrow, she fell into shock. It shouldn't have surprised her so much, perhaps, knowing as she did of the Starlights. Shouldn't have, but it did.

When she watched the first meeting at the Tendo's and saw the offer of friendship extended, only to turn into insults and beatings, she understood the look of betrayal that had marred his features that first night on the roof.

When Ryouga and then Ukyou showed up to kill him, she finally understood the look of utter loneliness, of empty despair.

Then she saw him hospitalized again shortly after defeating the immortal Saffron. The family kept it from him, but they could not conceal it from her. She watched as the doctors informed the gathered Saotomes and Tendos that Ranma's heart had been badly strained by his overexertion in defending himself after falling ill from severe food poisoning; no-one having had the grace or decency to admit that he hadn't actually put up a defense against Akane's righteous wrath at his reaction to her food. That it would never be safe for him to practice the art again, a warning that they never passed on to him. Even gentle Kasumi agreed when Nabiki warned that telling him that might put him into shock and cause as much damage to his heart as overexertion would.

Nor could they keep the news from the Amazons. Xian Pu's reaction, while Ranma was still hospitalized, resulted in Akane's death. Before the authorities could respond to the murder, Ranma had been stolen, his memory of his fiancees erased by the shiatsu techniques of the Amazon elder.

Unfortunately for the Amazons, Ranma's memories of his best friend Ucchan had never really connected with the Ucchan who showed and became his fiancee, because her behavior was so completely different from what it had been. When Ukyou came after them and Xian Pu prepared to fight her, a fight that both knew the okynomiyaki chef would not win, he remembered his best friend.

Seeing his best friend from his childhood under a vicious attack, he defended his friend vigorously and though he did not kill Xian Pu, she suffered a broken leg. Kho Lon, who interfered, he slew outright. He used the Hiryuu Shoten Ha against her, a technique that she didn't even try to prevent, knowing it to be useless against one who had mastered it. Ranma knew this, of course, and did not set it up to be fueled by her ki, but by his own, and combined it with his father's Yama-sen-ken techniques. The tornado that formed was laced with vacuum ribbons and the elder survived no more than a few seconds. The strain was too much for his weakened heart, however, and he died even as the tornado did.

Seeing his impassioned defense of one he thought of as a friend, Setsuna swore she would not let it come to pass. She had watched nearly his entire life in realtime; she had spent a little over eighteen years with him, and all pretense of objectivity was long gone.

"I won't let you die," she swore through her tears. "No matter what it takes." It took several minutes before Setsuna realized how such a promise might conflict with her duty.

She wavered for a moment then firmed her resolve. She would find a way to reconcile them, she would find a way to save him that didn't involve the violation of her oaths to Serenity.

She wondered for a moment whether he would be compatible with Hotaru. She would save him regardless, even if she had to take him alone, but did she need to look further to find a lifemate for Hotaru?

"Hmm... he'll meet her at just the right age for a bit of hero-worship, and there's no question that he'll jump to defend her. He's shown that often enough." The more she considered the more reasonable it seemed. He would have grown tired of controlling, violent girls, and a gentle and vulnerable girl like Hotaru should fit well with him. She was actually, as she thought about it, more concerned about herself. "If he sees me as like Nabiki, I'll have lost before I begin..."

It didn't take her long to find the role that would lead to the right path. If she could convince him to accept his curse, he might even be able to make the four-way affair between the Outer Senshi work out. She pictured Haruka's response to the buxom redhead and smirked.

Thinking of that led her thoughts to the actual intended result of her plotting and she felt herself growing warm. She was a bit surprised. It had been more than a thousand years since she had felt true arousal without deliberate stimulation.

In all the time that she had watched him, he had never engaged in sex. Indeed, he had seemed merely nervous about it, even when Xian Pu draped herself on him. His reactions made Akane's cries of pervert seem laughable. The poor boy had never had the standard talk. In spite of the fact that nearly every parent in his time found that talk superfluous when they finally gathered the courage to give it, the one boy that had actually needed it never received it.

Her need rose suddenly as she pictured Ranma looking shy and nervous. She knew that breaking through his barriers of pride would be one of her first tasks but the mental image of a vulnerable and unsure Ranma was more than enough to give her incentive to find a way.

She vanished from the gates, appearing in her sparsely appointed apartment. Glancing about to make sure the maid was not present, she walked quickly to the door and verified that it was locked, then walked with long strides to the bedroom.

The moment she entered the room her hands flew to her blouse. It fluttered to the floor a moment later. She cupped her breasts as she sat on the edge of the soft queen size bed. She kneaded them softly, and moaned.

In her mind's eye, she pictured Ranma-chan, lying on her bed in a plain white cotton bra and white panties, looking the picture of innocence and uncertainty. Groaning at the necessity, one hand left her breasts to unfasten the catch of her skirt, and she lifted her hips to tug it off even as her other hand slipped beneath the cup of her silk bra to rub her nipple.

She kicked her shoes off, then with hurried hands rolled her pantyhose down, wishing that for once she hadn't worn them, her nipples stiff with need, aching to be touched. She pictured Ranma-chan's look of surprise as she tweaked her nipple for the first time and a spot of dampness appeared on her panties.

She lay back on her bed, assuming the position she pictured Ranma-chan in and returned to her fantasy.

---

Ranma's brilliant blue eyes widened as Setsuna's hand cupped her breast, but her eyes remained fixed on Setsuna's firm breasts as they shifted with her motions, hanging freely beneath her. Setsuna rubbed Ranma's breasts through the soft cotton, then stroked the underside with her fingernails. Ranma felt her nipples harden against the cotton and she felt a sudden dampness between her legs. Setsuna deftly unfastened the catch to her bra, and drew the cups aside, revealing Ranma's creamy flesh and dusky nipples. Ranma gasped in surprise when two long fingers took her nipple and rolled it firmly, sending unexpected shocks of sensation deep within her.

---

Setsuna sighed softly as her fingers rolled her stiff nipples, sending delicious waves of excitement through her, her bra lying discarded to the side. One hand moved down to rub her tummy in firm circles, while the other hand rose to her mouth, where she moistened her fingers, as in her fantasy her mouth descended to the dusky rise of Ranma's right nipple.

---

Ranma stiffened with uncertainty as Setsuna shifted lower, and Setsuna placed a calming hand on her firm tummy and rubbed her. Setsuna caught Ranma's sapphire eyes with her own crimson orbs, holding her gaze even as she lowered her head and captured Ranma's nipple in her lips. She licked it, flicked it with her tongue, then put her lips against it and sucked it in. Ranma groaned as a warmth swelled in her belly.

"Oh, Setsuna-chan," she moaned. She arched her back slightly, pushing her breast toward Setsuna, and groaned in pleasure when Setsuna responded with a deep pull.

Setsuna's hand moved lower, brushing the soft red curls at the top of Ranma's mound, and Ranma sighed deeply, then cried out in surprise at the intense sensation that rushed through her as Setsuna's finger brushed the top of Ranma's folds.

Her panties were quickly tugged off, and she spread her legs slightly as Setsuna's fingers brushed lightly across her inner thigh, passing teasingly close to her lips. Setsuna continued her teasing, switching from fingertips, creating a pleasant friction, to fingernails, grazing the skin lightly.

Ranma's breath quickened and shortened, and she panted Setsuna's name. Setsuna licked her fingers and ran one finger down Ranma's outer folds. Ranma's breath caught, and she gasped when Setsuna's finger ran back up the other fold. She moaned, then when Setsuna grazed her fingers across her skin just above her soft red curls, she writhed, the tickling sensation adding to her growing heat.

"Please," she begged, "please..." She didn't know what to ask for, didn't know what she wanted, she just knew that she needed something, needed Setsuna to stop teasing her or she'd go mad.

Setsuna smiled, and spread the smaller girl's folds apart, revealing the swollen inner lips, moist and red, a single glimmering pearl of moisture beaded at the virgin opening. She ran one finger around the inner lips, teasing the opening but not penetrating, and Ranma gasped and sobbed, writhing with a pleasure beyond her expectations.

Setsuna's look turned hungry and lustful as she watched Ranma's hood lift as the small hard center of her pleasure made its appearance. Dipping a finger in Ranma's moisture, she circled the sensitive bud, and Ranma cried out, tears leaking from her eyes as she sobbed in pleasure.

Setsuna dipped her head lower and blew softly across the moistened nub, chilling it. Ranma's hips bucked and, grinning at the opportunity, Setsuna blew again. As Ranma's hips bucked in response, Setsuna slipped her hands beneath her lover, grasping her taut cheeks, kneading them firmly.

She lowered her head still further, taking a deep sniff of Ranma's essence, and feeling her own petals moisten in response to her musky odor.

"Playtime's over," Setsuna said conversationally, grinning at Ranma's cry of surprise. She extended her tongue and gave Ranma's clitoris a hard lick. She was surprised when Ranma's body immediately began to quiver and Ranma screeched. "So quickly?" Setsuna neither let go nor backed off. She slid her tongue over Ranma's clitoris, slipping the nimble tip of her tongue beneath Ranma's sheath, then swirling the tip rapidly around Ranma's erect center. When she felt Ranma begin to subside, she nipped her clitoris lightly, and Ranma screeched again.

Her orgasm was far stronger this time, and she thrashed. Setsuna had a hard time holding on to her but she didn't let up. She clamped her mouth on Ranma's hot hole and licked up the hot, tangy fluid that leaked from her as she convulsed.

---

Setsuna finally slowed, her breathing settling down from its rapid height as she raised her hand from her dripping petals to smell her juices. Still picturing Ranma in her mind, she put her fingers to her mouth, and tasted, then sucked her fingers, wondering what Ranma would taste like.

She slept deeply that night, more restfully than she had since the fall of the Moon Kingdom, and she dreamed of a strong, cute dark-haired boy with a pigtail and a ready smile, a delicate, vulnerable redhead, and matching pairs of deep blue eyes.

Guiding the Future

When Setsuna awoke the next morning, feeling unusually refreshed, it took her a few minutes to remember the conclusion she'd finally come to the previous day. When she did, however, she sobered quickly. She still had to find a way to save Ranma, manage to get him to like her in spite of his experiences with Nabiki, give him an honorable way out of his situation, prepare him for living with multiple women in spite of the horrific experience he would be coming out of, all without violating her oath to Serenity!

Setsuna, her mind still focused on her challenge, gathered up her discarded clothing and took it to the bathroom. After dumping it in the bathroom, she turned on the western style shower and stepped into the warm spray. As she soaped her hands, her mind drifted to her fantasy from the previous night. She shook herself when she felt a sharp tug on her nipple and realized that she had begun caressing her full breasts without even realizing it. Fighting down a blush, she did her best to clear her mind, and completed her bathing with a calculated efficiency.

Turning off the water, she pushed her hands down her body, sending the beads of waters sluicing from her fingers, then stepped from the shower to the bathmat and plucked a towel from where it hung. She dried herself quickly, forcing herself not to linger over certain areas, blushing again at the feel of cloth against her nipples, hardened in spite of her intentions.

Even as she finally stepped through the portal back to the Time Gates, the blush still burned her cheeks. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed a genuine erotic fantasy. She knew better, of course, than to allow her sexual frustration to grow too strong, lest it make her an easy target for an enemies plans, so Setsuna was no stranger to masturbation.

She never lacked for material to raise her excitement before a session, either, as the Time Gates made no allowance for modesty or privacy. She still occasionally enjoyed watching Cleopatra's methods of seduction, while the explorations that led to the authoring of the Kama-Sutra were a constant source of inspiration.

As she settled herself once more into her perpetual guardianship, she began to tackle the challenge she had set herself, feeling excitement growing within her again as she once more had an active role to play. To be sure, she had not been bored while following Ranma's life, or she never would have spent the time on it that she had. Still, it was one thing to be a passive observer, and another entirely to take an active part in affairs once more.

Focusing her will on the Time Gates, she summoned her staff to her hand. In response to her intention, the Garnet Orb on the staff glowed softly to life, and the view in the gates rippled. Much as she wanted to have Ranma for her own, she needed to first see whether she could spare him some of the pain. She had already determined that she would save his life; could she do yet more?

---

Ranma grabbed the sheet of paper from his father, running off with it in delight. Seeing her son running while Genma chased after him, Nodoka smiled, and as Ranma neared her, she reached out and scooped him up. Her smile faded when she saw Genma's face turn pale as she plucked the paper from her son's hand. When she looked at it she understood why.

She set her son down, very slowly, then walked to the mantel and took down the Saotome family honor sword from its resting place. Genma shivered where he stood, wanting to run but knowing that he still had a chance to convince her.

She turned to stare at him, the katana held firmly in her two hands. Her eyes were burning as she glared at him. "You would force me to to raise this against my SON?"

Ranma sat quietly, unsure what to make of the sudden tension between his parents.

"But No-chan," protested Genma, sure he would be able to convince her. After all, she took honor very seriously.

"No!" She snapped at him. "Never! How could you even think of such a thing. To make me...," her eyes filled suddenly with tears at the thought of having to stand by her son as he committed seppuku. Genma quailed at the sight of her tears, but there was steel in her eyes as she locked her gaze on him. "If you demand such a thing from me again," she said, with a quiver in her voice that betrayed the strength of her emotions, "I swear to you, I will commit seppuku myself before I accept such a pact!"

Genma backed down. He never wanted to hurt her and the thought of her dead left him cold.

Ranma grew up without the Neko-ken and many of the more hazardous of his adventures never happened. He still trained with his father but Nodoka prevented most of the worst of his excesses. She failed to prevent Jusenkyou, however. Still, she was there with them on that trip and Genma had no opportunity to attempt an escape. She immediately stopped Genma's plan to go on and train at the nearby Amazon village. When the guide said that he had never heard of anyone being cured, she saw clearly that if the Amazons had a cure, the guide would have known of it.

Though the incident with Xian Pu never occurred, the meeting with the Tendo's went little different. Genma managed to ensure that Nodoka was not present at their first meeting and the curse of Jusenkyou brought rain as they approached the dojo. The course of events was nearly identical to the original timeline except that this time Ranma had never built up the extraordinary recuperative abilities nor the unusual strength that had resulted from Genma's exercises.

Akane brought the heavy table down on Ranma's head, as before, but this time, his neck did not stand the strain. He died soon after.

---

Setsuna shuddered as she realized that disgusting and stupid as Genma was, he had also been right about Nodoka's influence. With her influence, Ranma did not become nearly as powerful as he had the potential to be. Of course, he was mistaken in assuming that it would be her influence on Ranma that would make him weak, when in fact it was her influence on Genma himself that prevented the extreme training methods that had made Ranma so powerful on his original timeline.

The Garnet Orb flared again as she explored a different possibility.

---

Nodoka sighed in happiness as she watched Ranma practicing kendo forms in the backyard. It was too bad that Genma hadn't lived to see his son grow strong. "Ranma," she called out.

"Yes, Mother," he responded, by her side in an instant.

"Before you were born, son, your father made a pledge to unite his school of the art with that of his training partner, Tendo Soun. You were engaged to be married to one of his daughters."

"What?" Master Happosai bounded in from the outside. "Oh, yes, I had forgotten all about that. Well, how about that boy? Tendo's daughters are quite the beauties. Lucky dog!"

Ranma blushed lightly as he thought about what they might look like. He wasn't relying solely on imagination, of course. He was very familiar with the female form from his mother's training, and that of Happosai.

---

Setsuna sighed as she saw Ranma meet the Tendo's for the first time. He was irritated at Akane's initial reaction, accurate though it was, and used Happosai's techniques to increase her libido while suppressing her anger. With no available means of release she had quickly disappeared to seek her own form of relief, leaving Kasumi and Nabiki to his attentions. She was somewhat surprised at the speed with which he seduced them.

"He certainly knows how to please a women in this timeline," Setsuna commented to herself, rubbing the crotch of her Sailor Suit subconsciously, "but if he's already got a harem, why would he come with us? Besides, I don't think we need someone that manipulative. That could turn ugly in a hurry." Setsuna pictured Haruka and Michiru's reaction to some of the techniques that Ranma used and blanched.

"Still... if I make sure he comes out with the right attitude towards us, it might be worthwhile to get him some training under Happosai..."

She shook her head and the Garnet Orb flashed again.

Setsuna examined countless possible futures for Ranma. While she could make minor alterations, it seemed that if she removed more than one of the major events in Ranma's life, he ended up failing to reach a power level that would make him able to comfortably keep up with the Senshi.

She sighed unhappily. "I'm sorry, Ranma," she whispered, "but it seems I have little choice. I want you too much..." She sank to the ground, holding on to the Time Staff for support. "What will he think of me if he learns I could have helped him, could have prevented it all, and didn't, just so that he could be strong enough to love me? Will he hate me?" Tears trickled from her eyes as she considered the possibility that a Ranma with enough power to be her consort might be unable to love her once he knew what she was capable of.

"No! I will not let it end like that," Setsuna said firmly, pushing herself back to her feet. Even as she rose, a thought came to her, an idea that sparked a rapid chain of thought. She needed him to not see her as similar to Nabiki. "I'll find a way," she said softly, eyes shining, "to make him mine without interfering in his life using the timestream. If I can show that I never interfered, he won't see the need to blame me for what went wrong, not as long as I'm helping him resolve it."

Setsuna settled back into a chair that formed from the nothingness of the void that surrounded the gates. "Honor," she mused, and focused on the first of his fiancee's, Akane.

Her eyes darkened as she watched again as Akane treated Ranma as a possession. Roaming over their first meeting again and again, Setsuna came to the disturbing realization that she had just outlawed for herself the best tool she had. The simplest way to make him willing to break the deal with the Tendo's was to remove the initial good feelings he had for Akane.

She had heard some of his private comments later on and knew that Ranma occasionally felt that if he had only been male for their first meeting, it would have turned out far better, or if he had demonstrated the curse right away.

In point of fact, while Setsuna could engineer this, the curse would still put off the older girls, causing them to push the engagement to Akane, and she would treat Ranma just as badly, seeing him as perverted boy. The only difference would be the absence of that first offer of friendship.

She sighed. She'd promised not to interfere in that manner, even if she was the only one who knew of her promise or would know if she broke it. Ranma was at heart an honest person and so being honest with him would be important.

Considering Akane again, she was reminded by the timeline reaching a scene with a large maze that the engagement was between the families and not Akane alone. She needed to neutralize Kasumi and Nabiki as well.

An idea came to her and she briefly returned to her apartment, picking up a notepad and a pen before returning to the Time Gates. As she settled back in her seat, she uncapped the pen and flipped to the first sheet on the notepad. "Saotome Ranma," she wrote at the top. Two lines below she began her list of things to investigate. The first item on the list was "Saotome Clan Head."

The next day, having completed her research into his fiancees, she turned her attention to his curses. She knew he was irritated by his Jusenkyou curse, but she felt sure that a large part of that was because of the pledge to his mother and much of the rest was more due to the reactions of people around him than to the curse itself. It was really a three part curse and Setsuna decided that neutralizing two parts would be enough to placate him.

She turned her attention to the Neko-ken, though it made her ill to watch the training again, as the poor boy was wrapped in fish sausage and thrown to the cats. She steeled herself, focusing all of her formidable will, and watched stone faced-until he finally snapped.

"I wish I didn't have to get rid of it," she said sadly a while later, watching as Neko-Ranma climbed into Akane's lap and lay there purring. "He's so cute like that, but I can't have our consort unable to stand the presence of the Queen's Advisors."

Firming her resolve, she searched backwards through time. It took her several months but she finally traced back the technique to its first users.

She watched, suppressing the churning in her stomach, as a young man was lowered into a pit of cats. Even as she ached to turn her eyes away, she noticed several crucial details. First, the boy seemed far more mature than Ranma had been and she realized that the technique had been developed in a time when people reached maturity at a much younger age. The youth of the victim was far less important than Genma had intimated. Unsurprising, given his poor understanding of it in general.

More interesting to her was the framework the youth had been tied to before being lowered. She noticed also that he was wearing a protective facemask and a cup. The last critical detail was that when he finally snapped and gave his first inhuman yowl, he was immediately pulled from the pit. He was still well tied to the frame though she could see that small metal bars hanging down in front of his hands looked shorter and were cut at strange angles. It must be a means, she decided, for the monitoring monks to see if the candidate had formed the claws or not.

She moved further back in time to where the boy was being given his initial instruction in the technique. To her surprise, one of the first steps was apparently a demonstration, as a Neko-ken master demonstrated the attack style and the claws, slicing through a wrought iron grating brought for the demonstration. The Neko-ken master, though using the techniques she recognized from Ranma, seemed to be in control and aware the entire time.

She realized then that she had been mistaken in assuming that the student's achievement was the end of his training. Moving forward again, she watched as he was put to sleep with a pressure point. He was brought to a circular chamber and left to meditate. It took Setsuna a while to decipher the instructions he was given but once she did, she marveled at the utter simplicity of it.

As she watched, once the boy achieved a state of meditation, a cat was released into the pit through a hidden door. The boy instantly lost his state of calmness and fled the cat, eventually succumbing to the fear. This continued for several days, until finally the boy managed to hold on long enough to consciously reach the Neko-ken. His fear seemed to leave him instantly and he lifted the cat to his lap, purring softly.

Again this was not the end, for the process continued for many days, until he showed no fear when the cat entered, without needing to enter the cat state.

Shortly thereafter he demonstrated the conscious use of the Neko-ken for the watching masters. Setsuna smiled happily. That would certainly prove an incentive for Ranma; conscious use of the Neko-ken and freedom from the fear.

Several days later Setsuna finally sat down before the Gates of Time, the Time Staff gripped firmly in one hand. The Orb flashed once, as Setsuna looked to see how her plan would fare once she put it into action.

What she discovered left her stunned and breathless, but smiling nonetheless. It meant the end of Crystal Tokyo and though her friends among the Senshi on that timeline would never have believed it of her, the end of her millenia long dream didn't bother her in the least.

She had nearly forgotten, all those centuries ago, that the Time Gates could show the future but that she herself, being immune to paradox, was not considered within that future except where she consciously exerted her influence. For her powers could change the flow of time dramatically, and were the Time Gates to constantly show what the future could be given any potential action on her part, it would be impossible to gauge the effect of any particular event on the timeline amidst the wash of possible effects of her own actions.

So when she had searched the futures, she had never seen this possibility, not until she exerted her will upon it. The end of Crystal Tokyo, an idea that once would have sent the Senshi of Time into a frenzy of defensive actions, merely brought a soft smile to her lips. ---

Time passed, as it is wont to do, and Ranma was born. Unable to resist, Setsuna spent nearly as much time watching Ranma's life a second time as she did watching the unawakened Senshi.

When the time came for her first intervention, she reentered the world and brought evidence of certain events and happenings before a judge, using all the skill for manipulation she possessed. She left the court with a wide smile.

The time for the second step came. Setsuna entered a bar and made her way through the smoke and noise to where a man in a dirty white gi sat on a stool drinking sake from a bottle that sat on the bar beside him.

She took a seat and when the bartender asked her pleasure, she ordered a strong drink. Genma glanced to the side at the woman who had just taken a seat a few paces down the bar. She looked wealthy; why was she drinking such strong liquor?

A slow smile crept across his face as he scented money and he slipped from his seat to a seat beside the elegant green haired woman. "You look a bit down," he commented, congratulating himself on his smoothness.

The woman eyed him and for a moment he thought her eyes were red, then he realized she must have been crying. Even better. "Wimps," she muttered.

"Eh?" Genma looked at her askance for a moment before realizing that the comment wasn't addressed to him when she continued.

"They're all wimps," she insisted, knocking back a slug of the hard liquor. "I'll never find a good husband for her."

Genma's grin broadened. Perfect! "Oh? And what are you looking for in a boy, ma'am?"

"Strong," she said, glancing at him again before taking another drink. "A boy with a real backbone, not like all these spineless wimps..."

A few minutes later Setsuna exited the bar, a few thousand yen poorer, one signed contract richer.

Things progressed normally for a time, until the expected arrival of Black Moon Family. Without Sailor Pluto's actions to firm the future, the timeline that resulted in the expulsion of the Black Moon Family from Crystal Tokyo became only one of many possibilities. Without that extra strength, the Setsuna of that time could not send Chibi-Usa back through time, nor did Wiseman's attempts to move through time succeed.

When Chibi-Usa failed to appear on schedule, Setsuna became disturbed. She immediately delved into the time stream. She had grown used to knowing the future of the Senshi without having to watch it all the time, and as yet she had not made any changes that would cause Ranma to come in contact with or affect the Senshi.

What she discovered relieved some fears and heightened others. With Crystal Tokyo no longer the firmest future, due to the absence of her continued efforts at strengthening that timeline, it lacked the solid connection with her time that was needed for the transport of Chibi-Usa, Usagi and Mamoru's daughter, to the past.

Without that use of the Time Gates and the guidance of the Time Key Chibi-Usa carried, Wiseman was unable to transport the Black Moon Family back through time.

Pleasant a realization as it might be to see that the future for the Senshi now included a long stretch of quiet time, it was also disturbing. The quiet time meant that the Senshi were allowed to grow rusty, their skills stagnating. Worse yet, since Chibi-Usa wasn't there, neither was Luna-P, who would have accompanied her. Without Luna-P's influence and in the absence of conflict, the girls would not receive their new transformation pens and communicators, nor achieve their star power transformation.

The thought of the scouts facing the Witches Five and their Daimons without the experience of fighting the Black Moon Family, and without the resulting power increases disturbed Setsuna greatly.

In studying this near future period, Setsuna came to a disturbing realizaiton. In the original timeline, when she had acted to ensure the existence of a single dominant future line, she had created a paradox where, because of the Time Gate's interaction with her self, those events which she had not fully examined, including the Witches Five incident, had created a ripple effect that eventually led to the future Setsuna warning her not to examine the future of those events.

Now, with that future no longer the main line, Setsuna examined the upcoming timeline with more care. What she found shocked her to the core. To be sure, the guidance and instruction she gave the Outer Senshi brought them closer together, but to risk the Silence, to place her Garnet Orb within her own pure Heart Crystal and allow it to be stolen to form the Holy Grail and risk Pharaoh Ninety's entrance into the world, all so that Mistress Nine could be purged from Hotaru and reduce her age... Was it really necessary to allow all that simply to try and give Hotaru a better childhood? Setsuna could, to a degree, understand her own reasons for the act, but surely it was better to ensure that Hotaru had a bright future, than to craft for her a bright childhood that would lead to a lonely future?

Finally the time came. The failed wedding was passed and her chance at Ranma was now or not at all, and Setsuna was beginning to realize that he had become far more important to their future than she had realized. Without his assistance, the Witches Five would be far harder for the Senshi to fight, lacking as they did the power and experience of fighting the Black Moon Family.

More importantly, Chibi-Usa was not present, so her Heart Crystal could not be stolen and absorbed by Mistress Nine, thus giving Sailor Saturn a boost at a critical juncture and preventing Pharaoh Ninety from entering the world.

Her own goal of freeing Ranma from his situation and capturing his heart had suddenly become far more than a mere personal task. It had become vital to the existence of the future, to the survival of her friends and herself. For the first time in millenia, Setsuna Meiou felt uncertainty.

Making the Play

Ranma slowly lowered himself to the ground, leaning his back against a tree. He felt tired, moreso than he had for a long time. It wasn't really a physical tiredness, though he had just escaped another long chase. The chase throughout Nerima, with most of his enemies and fiancees joining in, had become a regular routine.

What he was feeling now was more of an emotional exhaustion. Everyone around him talked about love, constantly claiming that he or they did or did not love someone. No-one ever seemed actually willing or able to tell him what love truly was, however.

He had thought, at Jusendo, when he held Akane in his arms and saw her lying in the peace of death that he loved her. He wasn't sure, he wasn't even certain what love was, much less whether it was what he was feeling. Still, he had known at that moment that he had felt a deep pain at her loss, and thought it might be love.

Now he was not so sure. After realizing that he might actually care for Akane, might even love her, if love was what he thought it might be, he had made a conscious effort to be nicer to her.

In spite of the effort he made to be nice, to avoid insulting her, she still seemed to mallet him at every turn. Twice in the last week she had malleted him before he even saw her and later malleted him when he asked why she had malleted him in the first place. She never did tell him why, and she continued to accuse him of leading on his fiancees and of committing perverted acts with them, even though he had given them the cold shoulder ever since they returned.

He hadn't eaten at Ucchan's or the Nekohanten since their return from Jusendo, but still, every time he returned to the house, she accused him of going to see them.

He had for a time wondered if Nabiki might not be deliberately antagonizing Akane while he was gone. He knew she'd done so before, and with Akane's suspicious and angry nature, Nabiki certainly had little enough difficulty manipulating her. He had considered confronting Nabiki about it, though he had decided it wasn't worth risking. Then he had overheard a conversation between Akane and Nabiki... in which Nabiki had been berating Akane for her actions toward him, and supporting him. That had been a shock and a half and had caused him to revise his opinion of them both.

He was tired of it, tired of the unending suspicion, the constant malleting, the interminable insults. It was really kind of strange... while the others were still chasing him occasionally, they all seemed to have cooled down. Even Mousse and Ryouga were nicer to him now, and their fights were far more like sparring matches than the angry brawls they had been. Of course, he still couldn't resist teasing Ryouga to make him angry. Ryouga was somewhat like Ranma in that respect; both of them were well able to channel their anger into constructive uses and when angered, they fought better, with more skill. Of course, Ryouga also tended to lose perspective at the same time and become a danger to those around him, but at least he could give Ranma a good work out.

The only one who seemed unchanged by the whole affair was Akane. No, that wasn't really right, was it? She's not unchanged, Ranma thought sourly. She's getting worse.

Ranma shook his head, trying once more to clear it of the depression that threatened to overwhelm him. Raising his eyes, he looked around the park. It wasn't the park he usually went to, in Nerima. He wasn't actually sure where he was, though he knew he wasn't in Nerima any longer.

There were a number of people there and his eyes quickly locked on a group of young kids, playing. For a time he watched them and his spirits lifted, as he remembered his youth, playing with Ucchan.

They hadn't just fought, though their fights had been regular and enjoyable. After their morning bout, they had sometimes been allowed to run off and play together. Ranma hadn't had many opportunities to play and he learned a lot from Ucchan. Hide and seek, tag, and other games that he'd never had the chance to play again.

Those had been the good days... before the Neko-ken. "The Neko-ken seemed to change more than just me. Oyaji used to actually smile sometimes, used to tell me I was doing a good job, before that," Ranma thought. "Afterwards, he just said I wasn't doing as badly. As if it was my fault the Neko-ken was such a screwed up technique. Baka oyaji." He shook his head almost angrily.

"Damnit," he muttered, "I'm supposed to be cheering up, not getting all depressed again." He tensed his legs and rocked forward to get clear of the tree, then rose gracefully to his feet. He was thinking about performing a few kata to clear his mind when from his new height he saw someone on the other side of the playing children.

She caught his eye because she had an almost wistful, wishful expression as she watched them, much as he imagined he had had moments before. He paused a moment, studying her, before suddenly tensing as if expecting a mallet and quickly looking away.

He strode away quickly, keeping his head down, but in his mind's eye he saw her still. She looked young, younger than himself, with short dark hair and a pretty though solemn face. She had also been alone, a fact that he really hadn't registered at first.

Lonely, that's what she had looked, lonely and wishing she could be playing like they were. He felt like that a lot and he wondered sometimes why he was so constantly lonely, surrounded by people as he was.

It didn't make sense, but then, so few things did. Girls, including his mother, school, math, the Kunos, the Amazon laws, Ukyou's sudden reversal of intent, so many things made no sense that Ranma had long since given up any hope of figuring them out. Akane . . . Akane most of all.

"Do you want to be friends?"

She had seemed so nice that first day, so open and inviting; the only friendly face he'd seen since long before Jusenkyou. After Jusenkyou he hadn't really expected to see any again. After all, what was he now? A freak.

Ranma kicked at a stone on the path he had made his way to as he remembered that first bout. "She always complains that I don't take her seriously," he thought, "but she didn't take me seriously then either. As if I was automatically supposed to be worse than her. Why would she think that? I had been on a ten year training trip and she knew that, so why would she expect me to not be as good as someone who only trained occasionally and didn't even have an active sensei?"

Two years had passed and he understood her no better now than he had when they first met. Can you really be in love, he wondered, with someone you don't know?

He thought again of that girl he had seen. He wondered if she wanted a friend, a real friend, as much as he did. He would have liked to have gone over and talked to her. Maybe he could have cheered her up. Maybe she could have cheered him up. Maybe he could have played again, as he had so long ago.

But he could not. He could not have friends, could not make friends, especially not with girls. His fiancees were too jealous to allow friends. Any girl near him was instantly a competitor. Not that it was so much better with the guys. He did not have any real friends there, either. They were all too jealous of his luck with the girls. That was something that he really did not understand. Could they not see how miserable the girls made him? Why did they envy that?

He thought of Ucchan again. I wish she had stayed my friend, he thought, feeling a hot, burning sensation in his eyes. He held the tears back, much as he wanted to just let go. Have to be a man, have to be strong, men don't cry. Not even when they lose friends.

Though he found his parent's insistence that Ukyou's engagement simply did not count because they did not want it to count to to be dishonorable, he had to admit that she did not have a true claim. Her dowry had been lost to the Gambling King before Genma ever stole it, so technically, her dowry had not been stolen; at least, not by Genma. That did not change the fact that there had been a verbal agreement and that was all the Tendos had, but the Tendos did have a dowry to offer, while Ucchan did not.

He shook his head sadly. He would never tell her that, of course. No matter how much he wanted to have his best friend back, he could not hurt her like that.

Ranma had some hopes for Shampoo. After Jusendo he felt sure that he could eventually convince Cologne that his defeat of Saffron was sufficient to allow Shampoo to return without losing face for not having brought him back. After all, they could not expect her to be able to kill a god, right? So they would have to accept that he was far enough beyond her that it was no dishonor to fail to capture him. He hoped.

As for Akane, he was growing daily more certain that she hated him. That was one of the reasons he had never taken more direct action to resolve the fiancee situation, even when he found possible honorable ways out. He did not want to force her into a marriage with someone she hated.

He had his head down in thought and so he completely missed seeing the woman standing by the park entrance in a well-tailored suit. Until, of course, he bumped into her, just as a passing car sent a sheet of water his way. Somehow she didn't get splashed at all, though Ranma was of course not that lucky.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He looked at the woman he had bumped into and was surprised to realize that she had green hair.

"That's alright," she said with a soft smile. "You look like you have something weighing on your mind right now."

"Well, uhm, yeah, kinda," replied Ranma uncertainly, fidgeting a bit when he realized the woman was looking at him . . . er, her, rather intently.

"You look very healthy, young lady, so I assume it's not a physical problem. Are you an athlete?"

"I'm a martial artist," Ranma said proudly, standing straighter.

"Oh, are you very good?"

"I'm the best," Ranma boasted, earning an arched green eyebrow. "I'm Saotome Ranma of the Saotome branch of Anything Goes Martial Arts," she said, then she blanched suddenly. Damnit, why'd I forget and use my male name?!

"I see," replied the woman, her smile broadening, "I've heard of you."

Ranma groaned inwardly.

"Doctor Ono praised your skill most highly," she continued and Ranma's eyes popped wide.

"You know Doc Tofu?"

"Indeed. He is a colleague of mine, or was, before he moved on."

"You're... you're a doctor?" Ranma sounded skeptical.

She nodded and held out her hand. "I'm Meiou Setsuna. It's a pleasure to meet one of Ono's students."

Ranma shook her hand but still looked uncertain. "How... how'd you know I was one of his students?" Not even Nabiki was aware of Ranma's studies in ujubitsu under Ono Tofu.

"He spoke most highly of you, as I said before," Setsuna responded. She looked around. "Would you like to step over to that cafe, and continue this conversation over a cup of tea? I would very much like to hear some of your stories first hand. Dr. Ono told me many stories but I'm sure there were many details he never learned."

Ranma glanced around nervously. The request had made him realize that she was in fact very attractive and the fact that she looked to be at least ten years older than him would not save him if someone saw them together. Still, the chance to talk to someone who knew Tofu would be nice.

They walked across the street and stepped into a small cafe. Setsuna was surprised when Ranma held her chair for her to sit in. When she cast a questioning gaze on him, he blushed slightly as he pulled up a seat for himself. "Guess Dr. Tofu told you I'm a bit rough on the edges, huh?"

Setsuna satisfied herself with an affirmative nod.

"Yeah, well, I been trying to learn to keep my momma happy, but I can't practice around Nerima, cause Akane always thinks I'm being perverted."

"Akane is your fiancee?" Setsuna looked up as a server came to their table. They ordered tea then she returned her attention to her companion.

"Well, yeah. It was our dads' idea. She's not the only one though."

"So Tofu led me to believe. I have to say I found some of his tales hard to credit... but then, if your father was foolish enough to take you to Jusenkyou it is hard to really put anything past him."

"You... you know about Jusenkyou?"

Setsuna laughed lightly. "Come, Ranma, if Dr. Ono had told me about you without mentioning Jusenkyou, would he not have described you as a man? The fact that I didn't laugh when a girl told me she was the famous Saotome Ranma should have been enough for you to know that I knew about Jusenkyou."

"Oh... yeah, I guess so."

"He... Dr. Ono also told me," Setsuna began, then paused as the server returned with a tray. They waited in silence until the server left. Setsuna took a short drink of the hot tea then cradled the teacup in her hands. "Though I find it hard to believe that anyone could be so stupid as to do it... he told me that your father tried to train you in the Neko-ken?"

Ranma jerked when she said the word "Neko," then nodded. "Yeah, I don't think there's anything stupid he wouldn't do."

"So... he tried to train you in it... surely he didn't succeed?"

"Well, sorta... at first it just made me scared of c..c..c.. them things. He figured if he just kept throwing me in, I'd at least get over being scared of 'em. Instead I snapped. And I still do, if I'm around 'em and can't get away." Ranma's voice was subdued and he was clearly working not to think on it, not to remember the pit.

"Well, Ranma, as you may have guessed, I share a number of interests in common with Ono-san. One of them is ancient martial arts techniques... I have recently come into the possession of a scroll from an archeological site, written in ancient Egyptian. I had a friend translate it for me."

Ranma sat bolt upright. She was sure Setsuna was going to say something about the Neko-ken, after all, that's what had led her to this discussion. Ranko was practically hanging on the edge of her seat, her small hands planted on the table as she waited, hoping desperately.

"Your father wrapped you in some fish product, correct? Then lowered you into a pit of cats?"

"Threw me in, more like." Ranma's visage turned dark as he pictured throwing his father into a pit. I'd like to see how you like it, old man.

Setsuna shook her head for a moment. "That's not right, but it's close. What did he do after you reached a feral state?"

"A what?"

"After you went cat," Setsuna clarified.

"Oh, uhm... nothing, really, he just waited till I woke up. Actually I think he had to chase me down, but he just dropped the whole subject after I woke up."

"The scroll I have describe a process whereby a student is led to experience an extreme feral state and then describes the procedure whereby the attributes of that feral state are made available to the conscious mind and the fears induced by the training erased. He didn't do any of this?"

Ranma's eyes were as wide as they could get and she looked, Setsuna thought, like she was about to hyperventilate.

"You . . . you have the complete technique? You know how to get rid of the fear? Without losing the technique?" There was a fire in her eyes now and Setsuna nodded.

"That's what it seems to describe. I don't know how effective it will be so long after the training, however. It seems to have been intended to be done immediately after the student first came out of the feral state."

"Would... would you help me?" Ranma asked, giving her best kawaii give-me-ice-cream look.

Setsuna paused, as if pondering. "I am generally fairly busy," she commented slowly, then continued before Ranma could respond, "but I would certainly like to see if this scroll's technique works. I would never try such a thing myself, it would be horribly unethical, but you've already been through the worst part. The latter portions don't sound particularly dangerous," she mused.

"You will?" Ranma sounded startled, as if the idea that someone would actually be willing to help, without being bribed or blackmailed, was unknown to her.

Setsuna nodded and pulled a business card out of her purse. "Come to my clinic sometime next week, Ranma, and I'll give you an exam to set a baseline, then we'll go over the scroll together, and you can help plan the procedure. All right?"

"Yes!" shouted Ranma ecstatically, ignoring the surprised looks of the other patrons. She leapt up from her seat and hugged a surprised Setsuna tightly then danced out the door.

Setsuna sat in mild shock. It had been many many years since anyone had touched her in an affectionate manner, and receiving a hug from an excited Ranma, for whom the face-to-face meeting had only strengthened her desire, had affected her more than she expected. Leaving a sufficient amount of yen on the table, Setsuna hurried to the ladies room, where she vanished, reappearing in her apartment.

As soon as she appeared, a knife was in her hand, having been plucked from a hidden pocket in her jacket and a moment later was quivering, embedded in a dart board across the room, right in the center of the black nose of a picture of Genma-panda taped over the dartboard. She collapsed to the floor in tears of anger and sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Ranma," she sobbed, wishing once again, though in vain, that she had been able to spare him the pain of his early life with Genma.

She did nothing about the tightness of her nipples and the moistness in her panties. Aroused as she had been by Ranma's exuberant hug she felt too ashamed and saddened at the part she had played in allowing that travesty of fatherhood to raise him to feel right about taking advantage of the feelings he brought out in her.

She headed to the shower to calm her nerves as she thought about the meeting. It had gone better than she expected. She had expected him to be more skittish and she got the feeling that he was now only concerned about being seen with her because of Akane's physical reaction and not for fear of hurting her feelings. She hoped she was right.

She had not been lying about the scroll; she did in fact have an authentic Egyptian scroll describing the proper means of training a Neko-ken warrior. It was a religious artifact, a scroll that she appropriated from a lost temple to Bast or Bastet, a cat goddess worshipped in Egypt for a time.

Nor was she lying about Dr. Ono, for she had made certain to make his acquaintance. She had not wanted to affect the timeline by giving him new knowledge, so she had avoided contact until after he left Nerima, but if Ranma managed to contact him, he would vouch for her. Setsuna had been well aware of the fact that without her deliberately seeking to force the timeline to one path, the timeline that she had watched for an entire lifetime would not be precisely what occurred, particularly with her minor interferences.

She had been intensely grateful for that foresight when after making Tofu's acquaintance, she had learned that he had left Ranma and Ranma alone the means to contact him.

Stepping out of the stream of warm water, she toweled off then dressed again, in lighter clothing, before stepping to the Time Gates. There she settled in and began to replay the day, watching for signs of Nerimites in the area that she would have to neutralize. She followed Ranma first and she was both surprised and pleased when she saw him pause and watch a girl whom she recognized as Tomoe Hotaru.

"He doesn't know yet," she commented to herself, "but I guess he must have recognized the look of loneliness." For once, it seemed, chance was working with her rather than against her.

Not so for Ranma, however. She caught a young girl who had paused outside their cafe. She had gaped at the scene inside for a minute then pulled out a camera and snapped a shot . . . at just the worst moment. Setsuna was certain that the picture would show Ranma hugging Setsuna tightly, a look of brilliant joy on her face.

"Not good, not good," Setsuna muttered to herself as she sped the flow of time up while following the girl. She cursed softly when she saw the girl stop first at a phone and place a call, then head for a one-hour photo developing shop.

"I'm sorry, Ranma," she sighed, knowing that she was already too late to prevent the information from reaching Nabiki. She had forbidden herself from traveling through time to achieve her goals in this project. She could teleport somewhere to provide an influence at just the right time, but she would not alter time. That she had promised to Ranma and she would not break it, no matter how much it hurt. "I'm so sorry. If I had just come straight here..."

She rolled the timestream back to Ranma's exit from the shop and set it to follow her. "I might as well see how they took it," she sighed to herself. Momentarily she remembered Nabiki's nature and hoped that it might be kept quiet in exchange for money, then she reconsidered. It was one thing when Nabiki knew that the situation was innocent. Here, however, she might very well wonder about Ranma hugging some girl none of them had ever seen. Setsuna knew Nabiki was very protective of her family.

Ranma grinned happily as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, heading towards Nerima. She felt like singing and probably would have, had she known any appropriate songs. Two stains on her life, two failures had haunted her and now she finally had the opportunity to lay one to rest.

Not only would she finally be free of her debilitating fear, her greatest weakness to those who knew of it, she would gain a new attack. She thought about how she had been described while in the Neko-ken and grinned widely. The only flaw in the technique had been the instinctual behavior and the ease with which the cat could be distracted. With those gone, she would probably be a match even for her father using his secret techniques.

Reaching Nerima, she raced along the drainage canal for a ways before bounding to the fence. She dimly heard Kuno but not being in the mood to play, she simply poured on the speed, glowing softly, and left him behind. She reached the Tendo residence and flipping at the end of her descent, landed lightly in front of the door. She reached out and opened it, then stopped short. Standing in front of her smirking, hand outstretched awaiting yen, was Nabiki.

"What'd ya want?" Ranma asked curiously.

"15,000 yen," replied Nabiki, arching her eyebrow at Ranma.

"What?!" Ranma shrieked, "Why would I... what for?"

Nabiki simply shook her head and gave him a look promising that he would wish he had paid her. Ranma shook her head and brushed past the middle Tendo daughter. She stepped into the living room and caught Nodoka's sharp glare. She glanced down and realized that she was still a girl. Kasumi stepped up beside her with a kettle.

"Uh, thanks, Kasumi," Ranma said, taking the kettle and pouring the hot water on his head. He heard stomping on the stairs and knew Akane was coming down to berate him for some reason or another, not that she seemed to need one, but Nabiki forestalled her.

Just as Akane burst into the room, Nabiki put a hand on her shoulder, halting her progress and drawled out, "So, Saotome, who was that woman you were with at the cafe? And why were you seen embracing her as a girl?"

Ranma winced, which of course everyone took as an admission of guilt.

"Ranma," Akane shouted, "You pervert! How dare you!?"

Soun had jumped to his feet and gone into his demon head. "Ranma! How dare you cheat on your fiancee!"

Genma followed him up. "Boy! You will marry Akane!"

"Who wants to marry that perverted jerk!? He can shrivel up and die for all I care! Go on, Ranma, go play with your hussies!"

Nodoka looked at him sternly, a tinge of disappointment in her gaze. "It's not very manly to hug a girl as a girl, Ranma."

"But . . . but I can explain," protested Ranma, turning towards Akane. As he expected, he was not given the chance. Mallet-sama was already high and it came down hard. She did not stop for some time.

When Ranma awoke, he was lying on his futon, a wet cloth on his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw Kasumi kneeling beside him. She noticed that he was awake and looked at him disapprovingly.

"It really wasn't wise to be seen with another girl, Ranma, especially behaving like that in a public place."

Ranma moved to protest but Kasumi rose and drifted from the room, leaving him to defend himself to empty walls. He felt the bandages on his chest and momentarily considered that he was actually lucky. Since Akane had been so mad at him, at least she had not had any desire to bind his wounds. That always seemed worse than what she was trying to treat.

"It wasn't like that. She was just helping me," he said quietly, knowing no-one was listening, and turned onto his side.

Setsuna stared at him through sorrowful eyes. "I am so sorry I wasn't quicker, Ranma. I'll make it up to you. Somehow."

Beginning of an End

Ranma jerked awake to a splash of cold water and an angry shout. He looked up to see the glaring eyes of his fiancee but gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to insult her. So what if she was uncute, if she was incapable of trust, so what if she constantly leapt to conclusions. He had to give her a chance, give them a chance. After all, what if it was love that he felt on Jusendo? Shouldn't he give love a chance?

She growled angrily at his lack of a response and stalked from the room muttering. He rose from his futon with a sigh, grabbed some clothes, and headed for the bath. He wondered for a moment where his idiot father was then dismissed it from his mind.

If it was important, he would find out soon enough.

When he finally made it to the breafast table, cleaned and ready for school, Akane was there already, glaring at him. He glanced a bit fearfully at his plate but thankfully it looked normal. He sat silently and ate quickly, not wanting to give Akane an excuse to hit him.

She did not speak, settling for a hard glare. Soon they were out of the house and on their way to Furinkan High.

"So, who was she?" Akane ground out through clenched teeth.

Ranma looked down from his position on the fence at his angry fiancee. Somehow, he knew, no matter how he responded it would be taken the wrong way and he would get malleted.

"She's just someone I met in the park," Ranma said. He did not like to admit to weakness and he really did not want to admit that he, Saotome Ranma, man among men, had asked for help.

He felt the flaring of Akane's battle aura and did not even hear her response before registering the mallet impact that sent him flying through the air.

"Oh well, at least she sent me towards the school this time," he muttered. He shifted so that he was facing the direction he was moving. Instantly he began adjusting his trajectory. If he could not shift far enough, he would hit the pool. He wondered for a moment, as he worked to alter his path enough to land on the school roof instead, whether Akane had deliberately aimed for the pool.

Thankfully, he discovered that he had recognized the danger with enough time to spare and he was able to make a soft landing on the school roof. He glanced around and then stopped still as he heard Akane's voice below. She was just about to... yep. Ranma grinned and waved as Kuno sailed past him on a high arc, then sat down.

"She sure is mallet happy today," he muttered. Thinking of the reason for his earlier malleting, the green haired friend of Tofu's, led to thoughts of Tofu as he was preparing to leave. That had been some time ago but his memories of Tofu were still clear.

"You really should reconsider allowing Akane to hit you," Tofu had advised. "I've been watching her for some time and I'm afraid you're just feeding her delusion. She has to know, subconsciously, even if she won't admit it, that she can't hit you unless you allow it. I'm afraid that every time you let her hit you she is seeing it as evidence that you are in fact guilty of whatever imagined offense she is angry about."

Ranma had not been willing to follow Tofu's advice then. He had protested and in the end ignored it. He knew that if he avoided Akane's righteous anger, the fathers would be outraged, Ryouga would blow up at him, and things would simply get worse.

Now though, he was less certain. His father had occasionally shown signs of uncertainty, as if he was no longer so sure of being able to handle Ranma. Soun had not changed, but then, he was not a real threat anyway. Ryouga and his other rivals, on the other hand... well, Kuno might still react badly, but Kuno was never a real challenge anyway. Ranma got the feeling that Ryouga's opinion about Akane and Ranma had been changing, though.

Maybe it was time. "Yeah," he said, smacking his fist into his palm. "She's the only one that hasn't grown up after the whole blow up at Jusendo... everyone else will think twice about pushing me once they realize I'm no longer kowtowing to that uncute tomboy."

Jumping to his feet, Ranma flipped off the edge of the roof. As he fell past the building he took note of his classroom window and smiled. Since it was open, he leapt again as soon as he landed, alighting on the windowsill and slipping into his seat just before Akane entered the room, still angry over Kuno's presence.

She gave Ranma a sharp glare before sitting at her desk and turning her attention away from him. Ukyou entered a few moments later and Ranma noticed the sad look she directed towards him as she headed for her seat. Catching that look made him realize that she and Shampoo both seemed to have finally come to the realization that they had gone too far and that he actually loved Akane, that he had already made his choice. It figured that that realization would come to them just when he was beginning to really question his feelings for Akane.

He shivered suddenly as he realized that the cold shoulder he had been giving Shampoo and Ukyou could backfire badly if they decided they had no chance and the fathers learned of it. He and Akane might be married before they knew what was happening and Ranma was beginning to be seriously worried at the prospect of having to spend the rest of his life with someone who so obviously hated him.

It suddenly hit Ranma that that might explain Akane's recent behavior. If she really did dislike him then the increase in her violence and anger could be explained by her not wanting him. If she did not want to get married, then as he acted nicer, she would have to pick up the slack to prevent the marriage. He slumped slightly in his seat. He had not really wanted to believe it but it made sense; more sense than he had ever made of her behavior before, at any rate.

He drifted through the rest of the classes until lunch. He didn't sleep but he wasn't paying much attention either. He simply kept picturing recent incidents and fitting them into the picture of Akane's genuine dislike for him, hoping to find something that didn't fit. When the bell for lunch rang, he had still not found anything.

Ranma slipped out the window carrying his lunch and dropped to his usual spot by a tree. He watched Akane come out in the company of Yuka and Sayuri. Again she directed a venomous glare in his direction. He sighed and focused on his lunch. It was gone in moments and he turned his attention back to the yard.

He saw Kuno approaching Akane from the practice field, then to one side he noticed Ukyou cooking okynomiyaki on her portable griddle. Ranma slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of yen. He had enough.

He stood and made his way quickly to where Ukyou was sitting, hearing Akane yelling at Kuno in the background. He squatted by her, holding out a handful of yen, the full amount she usually charged her lunchtime customers.

"Ranma?" She asked, a bit nervously.

"One shrimp okynomiyaki please, Ucchan," he replied. Her eyes lit up at the name and she immediately poured batter on the griddle, then she looked at the yen in his hand.

"Ranchan, you know," she began.

"No," he replied firmly, "I ain't gonna be like Pops anymore. You're too good a friend to mooch off of."

Not that Ranma had ever really seen the food he got from his fiancees as mooching. After all, they were well aware of the difficulties preventing him from making any real money. He wasn't worried about acting like his father, and didn't really equate his actions with his father's anyway.

It was just the first explanation that popped into his mind, since he could not simply tell her that he was hoping that she would go back to being the friend he had always wanted.

He had not said fiancee, quite deliberately, and he was trying, by changing the way he interacted with Ukyou the chef, to change the way he interacted with Ukyou the girl.

He could not have phrased it so clearly, of course. He simply had the idea that if he treated her the way Hiroshi and Daisuke did, now that she seemed to have accepted that he had not chosen her, even if she might be wrong about his having chosen Akane, she might be willing to be his friend again. Well, a guy could hope, right?

She smiled and sprinkled the ingredients on the okynomiyaki after flipping it then handed it too him.

"Yowch, hot!" He yelped, but ate it quickly. "Mmmm. That was delicious, Ucchan. You really are a great cook."

He saw her eyes widen and felt a strong ki coming towards his rear and grinned inwardly. Time to change the rules of the game . . . "Ranma no Baka!" Akane shouted, swinging her mallet.

A silence fell over the schoolyard, as everyone froze, staring in utter disbelief as Ranma caught Akane's hammer on his palm. He shifted his grip on the head of Akane's hammer slightly and plucked it from her grip. Ranma had stopped Mallet-sama? Ranma had defended himself against Akane?

Ranma closed his fist, crushing the mallet head into splinters. Akane purpled with rage and whipped out an even larger mallet. It met a ki-enhanced fist and exploded into dust.

Still no-one else moved. It just seemed surreal. That could not be Ranma standing there looking at Akane with that silly smirk on his face. Akane seemed at a loss for a response but Ranma let her off the hook by leaping up into the tree and bounding across the yard and back into his classroom.

The unnatural silence and complete stillness lasted until the bell suddenly rang, signaling the end of lunch. Ukyou watched wide-eyed as Akane stormed back into the building. Ranma had defended himself against Akane. He was speaking to her again. She almost drifted off into a fantasy again when her logical mind, having seen a recent return after the events of the wedding finally broke her fantasy for the first time, replayed his words. "You're too good a friend . . ." He had not called her cute, had not called her a fiancee. He had said friend.

For the first time in nearly two years Ukyou's defensiveness of her right to her dreams faltered and for a brief moment she wondered what her Ranchan dreamed of. Why had he paid her for the okynomiyaki, she pondered, as she hurriedly cleaned her griddle and headed back to class. What was he trying to say?

A slow flush crept up her face as she remembered how happy Ranma had seemed when she had first shown up and he had realized who she was. He'd been so happy to see his friend again. She paused in the door to the classroom and took in the looks of disbelief still on most of the students' faces.

Even Akane looked more pensive than angry for once. As Ukyou made her way to her seat, she wondered at that. She had always kind of assumed that if Ranma ever actually failed to defend Akane, it would break her shell and send her fleeing in tears. Why hadn't she run? Why did she look pensive, instead of heartbroken, or angry?

Some distance away in another classroom, two figures sat in brooding thought. Kuno had not actually seen the events, as he had been recovering still from his pummeling at the hands of his fierce tigress. Still the students were saying that Ranma had defended himself against Akane without striking her. He had simply disarmed her and then left. Kuno was currently fighting between two lines of thought. He couldn't decide whether the sorcerous Saotome was upping his control over Akane or releasing her. Should he attack Saotome to punish him, or Akane, now freed of the treacherous Saotome's influence?

Nabiki on the other hand was basically in shock. The only active thought in her mind was a rather strangled "Four... hundred... thousand... yen..."

She had taken a bet just the day before from a student. Four thousand yen placed on Ranma to defend against Akane's mallet instead of merely dodging. She had seen it as easy money, even given the girl 100 to 1 odds. After all, she prided herself on reading people, and she was certain Ranma would never defend himself from Akane. Besides, he had even toned down the insults recently, and avoided doing anything to anger her, so surely he would not suddenly go in the opposite direction. Yet he had, and now she had someone expecting a four hundred thousand yen payout. Nabiki was not having a good day.

She retained enough sense to answer questions when the teacher posed them but aside from that, she remembered little of what happened from lunch to the end of the day. She was still sitting at her desk in a daze when a gentle throat clearing attracted her attention.

She looked up to see the girl who had made the bet. "How?" Nabiki's mind instantly went back to full speed. "How did you know?"

The girl moved slightly and Nabiki's attention was drawn lower, to where the girl was holding out a white envelope. "I didn't," she said. "A lady gave me four thousand yen and told me what bet to make. She said when the bet was won, to give you this. I guess it tells where to send the money, or something."

Nabiki shivered suddenly. Surely . . . surely she had not inadvertently accepted a bet from a cop? Why else would someone have made the bet through a proxy?

She thanked the girl and hurried home, her unease growing. She ignored the situation in the house, though subconsciously the lack of noise raised her feeling of nervousness. She went directly to her room and shut the door behind her. Checking to make certain that there was no-one present, she sat at her desk and looked at the envelope.

A simple white envelope, nothing written on it, no stamps or markings. She verified that it was sealed then slit it open with a letter-opener. Slipping two fingers into the opening, she pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

She unfolded it and began to read. Finishing, she sat still for several long minutes, thinking about what she had read, before cutting the document into small pieces and placing it in a small metal tin. She kept the tin on her desk for a single purpose . . . to dispose of dangerous documents. Nabiki did not trust shredders.

She pulled out a small box of matches and lit the contents of the tin then opened her window. She teased the fire with the metal letter-opener, making sure each bit of paper caught and burned completely, before she cast the crumbled ashes to the wind.

She slid the window shut again and moved back to her desk, where she snagged a pad of paper and a pen. In a precise hand she noted down a list of supplies she would have to obtain. On another sheet, she quickly jotted down a few ideas, to see if any more supplies would be necessary.

Tearing off both sheets, she placed them in her purse and headed downstairs. She poked her head in to the kitchen and saw Kasumi. "I've got to head to a shop and pick up a few things," she advised and at Kasumi's pleasant confirmation, she continued out the door.

As she opened the front gate, she suddenly cursed to herself. Why had she not asked that girl for a description of the woman who had made the bet? Nabiki wondered as she closed the gates behind herself whether the description would have included green hair. "I better ask her tomorrow," she muttered. Could it really be possible for Ranma to have planned this? She would not have believed it of him, he simply did not seem that clever, but then, she had bet at a hundred to one odds that he'd never stop Akane's mallet and she had been wrong about that.

Meanwhile Ranma had discovered just as school let out that word of his actions at lunch had reached the Nekohaunten.

"Nihao, airen!" Shampoo caroled happily as she aimed her bike to land on Ranma. He always made her landings nice and soft. Wham! Ranma cleanly sidestepped the incoming bike and Shampoo hit hard. He was off and running before she or Akane could react and by the time Shampoo recovered from her bruising landing, Ranma was gone from sight.

Once again Ranma had managed to stun just about everyone. Like Akane's mallet, Ranma never seemed to dodge Shampoo's bike. Until now. Of course, Shampoo had not tried to land on him since Jusendo but if he was no longer taking Akane's abuse, then Shampoo was back in the running. Except that she did not seem to be.

Ranma cursed softly as he ran. He had realized for some time that if he started actually avoiding Shampoo's glomps and her bike, she would come to realize that he was avoiding her. He did not want to hurt her and he was afraid of what would happen to her if she gave up. More to the point, he would have expected, before Jusendo, that Cologne would have pushed even harder for stronger methods if Ranma upped his resistance.

Now that Jusendo had happened though, Ranma felt sure that the old ghoul would not want an angry Ranma in the tribe and there was no way he was going to allow his changed attitude to Akane to be interpreted as a license to return to the way things were before Jusendo for the rest of the Nerima crew.

He changed course several times in order to lose pursuit but since he didn't detect anyone following him, he used more speed than he normally permitted himself.

He wanted some time alone to think about how to deal with the repercussions of his act at lunch and so he was headed to the last place he had been able to find some time to sit and think. He found it easily and soon he was again sitting by a tree watching children play.

Unfortunately his mind wasn't cooperating. He wasn't coming up with any good ideas on how to handle the recriminations that would surely follow as soon as he returned to the Tendo home.

After a fruitless quarter of an hour during which he came to no useful conclusions, he decided that he needed to clear his mind. Not really having much experience with meditation, as Genma did not much care for it, Ranma's tool of choice for clearing his mind was kata.

Rising from his spot beneath the tree, he cast about until he found a wide region clear of trees and not currently inhabited by overactive children. He was about to enter into an energetic kata when his mind rebelled. He stopped for a moment. What was wrong? Why shouldn't he do a full out kata here? The answer came to him after a moment's thought. No-one is disturbing you here because no-one knows you. Go all out and they'll make the connection and you'll draw attention.

Satisfied with that logic, Ranma began a ground-based kata.

Punch. Block. Snap kick. Block. Leg sweep and punch combo. Block.

Ranma closed his eyes, allowing the familiar easy motion of his body flowing through the moves to soothe his mind. He lost himself in the pattern of blocks, kicks, punches and combinations.

He focused on his father. His father's arguments were as familiar to him now as were his attacks.

"Boy, how dare you dishonor your fiancee like that!" His father's fists flew in a frontal assault.

"There is no dishonor in self-defence," he protested, batting aside and misdirecting his father's blows.

"You should take your punishment like a man! What are you, a weak girl?" His father taunted him, as he dropped into a low combo ending in a hard, fast sweep that Ranma barely avoided.

"Punishment for what? I haven't done anything wrong!" Ranma objected, narrowly leaping over the leg sweep. He tried to retaliate with a throw but his father deflected it.

"You haven't fulfilled your honor and married her, boy!" He snarled at Ranma.

Ranma banished the mental image of his father. It was pointless, sparring with his father verbally. Genma never responded to direct attack and always evaded responsibility. At the same time he was sneaky and tricky enough that even though Ranma was more than powerful enough to take him out, Ranma still ended up in koi pond as often as not. He fared even less well in their verbal spats.

High kick. Three quick punches. Block. Drop to a squat and throw an upwards kick to the gut. Roll and spring into a high kick to the face with the heel of the right foot.

Ranma didn't even bother trying to think of the others. He had tried but he simply wasn't cut out for this kind of battle. He couldn't beat his own father in a battle of words, even though he knew Genma's every move.

Reversal. Rabbit punches to the kidney. Opponent spins to face. Block high with left arm, block low with right leg. Palm strike.

The image of Nabiki rose up in his mind. How does she do it, he wondered. Even Master Happosai tended to leave her alone. Ranma knew it was because of her blackmail, at least partially. At the same time, she never seemed to actually need to use blackmail to best people with words. You simply couldn't win a confrontation with Nabiki, no matter how skilled you were.

Crane stance into finger strike to the throat. Block and a throw, dropping into a leg sweep as the opponent recovers.

She wasn't the only one, of course. Nodoka seemed to win against Genma every time, even though Ranma was certain that Genma was good enough to escape. He wasn't sure how skilled Nodoka might be with her sword but surely his father's Umi-sen-ken technique would be good enough to allow him to escape?

Strong jump to avoid low kick, leg drop, block strike to groin.

He too tended to give way before her, but he knew that he had reason. He, unlike his father, actually valued his honor. If seppuku was the only honorable thing he could do, he would do it. He had in fact considered it once but it seemed too much like running away. He would not take that path until no other path was left to him. Genma on the other hand seemed to exist to escape responsibility and evade the demands of honor, so why would he fear seppuku? Ranma couldn't figure it out, couldn't see why Genma reacted the way he did to Nodoka and so he set it aside.

Accept a throw, reverse momentum into springing palm strike. Follow up with low kick leading to rising uppercut and a hard elbow to the chest.

There was always Kasumi. Gentle Kasumi, who would never lift a hand against anyone and would certainly never stoop to blackmail, yet when she insisted, everyone obeyed. She too seemed immune to Happosai.

Hook opponent's foot and swing high, releasing but continuing the smooth turn, rotating opponent in the air to bring head into range of full power kick coming off full rotation.

That was not to say there weren't people that he did understand, or at least mostly. He understood why people would give way for Cologne, Happosai, and Hinako-sensei. Sure he stood up to them, at least sometimes, but he understood why others didn't. Fear. Fear was why they backed down, fear of the power the three held, fear of what they could do to someone.

Backward flip to gain distance giving opponent time to rise, following with springing double palm strike and upward flip.

Was it the same with the others? Surely not, surely no one obeyed Kasumi because they were afraid of her. Yet he couldn't get that thought out of his mind. If that was the case, though, then why did he lose to his father? He certainly didn't fear the old man. He knew he could beat him, especially now that he knew the Umi-sen-ken. He wasn't sure he knew all the Yama-sen-ken moves, but he had figured out how to duplicate pretty much everything Kumon Ryu had thrown at him.

Hard punch to the head while inverted, drop hands to back of neck and use momentum to throw.

With Nabiki it was fear, that was clear enough. With Nodoka, well, that too was fear. He wasn't sure what Genma was afraid of but his body language was pretty clear on the fear part. He was definitely afraid of Nodoka. With Ranma, on the other hand, it was not so much fear of Nodoka, nor even really fear of seppuku. There had been a few times when he had actually hoped his mother would insist on it, if only to finally release him from the growing tension he was under. He didn't fear death, at least, he didn't think he did. No, Ranma mused, I don't fear her katana... it's her eyes.

Redirect opponent's momentum during throw with hard shoulder strike lining opponent's chest up with rising foot to slam downward.

He pictured her again in his mind, looking at him with that look of disapproval mingled with disappointment. That was what he feared, that he would be a disappointment to her. He knew that his father was disappointed in him. He had been ever since the whole Neko-ken business, even if it had been the old man's fault.

Dropping neck strike. Endgame. Ranma paused and shuddered as he came back to himself, realizing that somewhere in his thoughts he had drifted from the kata to shadow sparring and just performed a lethal strike.

Am I losing control?

Ranma stood slowly, his breathing still even and steady and relaxed out of his stance. He was startled from his contemplations, eyes snapping open, by the sound of applause from around him.

He saw that in spite of his intention, he had garnered a number of observers, young and old alike, all admiring. He noted that some of the girls' looks were more than admiring; they were hungry and he shivered again.

His eyes caught a look of longing and he was startled by a familiar cut of deep black hair and a sad face.

Training Begins

Hotaru drifted slowly through the park. She tried to keep a smile on her face as she watched the ducks drifting on the pond. Everytime she lifted her gaze and saw children playing though, her smile would fade.

She remembered it well enough, remembered with a painful clarity what a bright child she'd been, how wonderful the world had seemed. She remember playing vigorously. Most of all, she remembered having friends.

That's all that was left now. Memories.

She had no friends. After the accident she had drifted in a dreamless sleep for two long years. Her friends had forgotten her and moved on, made new friends.

After her awakening, she had discovered that the light in her life had dimmed, for her mother was no longer there to brighten her day, and her father, though still affectionate, was ever more caught up in his work.

Worse yet, she had lost the stamina and strength needed to play and run like the other children. It wasn't her fault. Two years without exercise had left her weak. It would probably have eased over time and she would have grown stronger, had she played regularly.

She had not been accepted, especially once she manifested her healing ability. She had been set apart, shunned. She was different, strange, unnatural.

Without the incentive of friends with whom to play, she had not attained the regular exercise that might have rebuilt her strength, nor had her father taken note of her condition and arranged for the therapy that might also have alleviated the strain.

School, physical education particularly, might have aided her in regaining her strength were it not for the last of her ailments; when she over-exerted herself, she would lapse into unconsciousness. Worse yet, occasionally over-exertion would yield a short period of intense pain before the bliss of unconsciousness provided surcease. In any case, she grew quickly exhausted after even mild amounts of physical exercise and given her poor reactions to being pressed to work harder, the teachers had eventually stopped trying to push her to perform.

So she remained weak still and friendless. She sought solace where she could, in the beauty of her lamps, in playing her violin. She did not seek solace in the parks.

She was not here to be consoled. She was drawn here by the activity, by the many things she wished she could take part in; the many things that were denied her. Though she tried to ease that pain by taking pleasure in the natural beauty around her, it was a false effort. Maybe if she had been able to visit the park at night, when the moon and the stars and the deep black evening sky cast a softer, shaded glow over the park, maybe then it would have spoken to her.

As it was, the beauty of nature was but an excuse to her, a way of not having to admit the true reason she was here, to admit her envy of those who possessed still a normal life, who lived in the light she once knew.

Hotaru's attention was caught by high pitched children's voices and she looked up to see two young boys dragging an older man; their father, perhaps. They sounded excited about something and the delight in their voices made Hotaru ache with envy.

She turned away and to her surprise, she saw several older boys heading in the same direction following one boy who was saying "You gotta see this," over and over.

She looked in the direction they were heading and saw a flash of red. Her curiousity aroused, she began following the boys, hanging back enough to not be noticed.

When her progress removed the last tree between her and their goal she stilled, a sense of delight filling her. Beautiful, she thought to herself. A young man wearing a red shirt and black pants was dancing in the open area between the trees.

She noted without really granting them any attention that there were a number of people gathered, watching the boy. She paid them no mind, focused on the boy. He moved with a mix of power and grace that was beautiful in its own right and seemed more delightful still with the poses he was taking and the moves he was making.

She could see that the positions he was taking held some purpose beyond what she could see. After a short time of watching, a gleeful comment from one of the younger observers caught her attention and she considered the dancing boy.

Yes, indeed, now that she had been given the idea, she could see that it was as if he was fighting someone who could not be seen. She had seen fights though, at school and after it and never before had a fight been a thing of beauty to her eyes.

She continued to watch and slowly began to feel as if she could almost see the nonexistent figure he was fighting. It was as if his moves not only attained his position; they also defined the position of his opponent.

She moved a bit closer then felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as the tone of his movements changed. She could almost feel the anger, see the concentrated rage in his motions now. It called to her more strongly still. "A dance," she whispered. "A dance of death..."

She wasn't sure where the words came from but they fit. The beauty of his motion seemed stronger now and the moves more purposeful, more forceful.

He stilled finally, unmoving, his fist just touching the bent grass and Hotaru realized that if her impression of the opponent's position was correct then his opponent's throat would have just been crushed. Dance of death indeed.

When he stood slowly, facing in her general direction, with his eyes still closed, easing out of his stance, the people around him broke into applause. He jerked as if shot, his eyes snapping wide, gleaming a vivid blue. He glanced around for a moment and then his eyes met hers.

It was only a moment before his eyes moved on but Hotaru felt a thrill run through her. She had seen beyond the mere external beauty of those azure pools. She had seen into his soul and within him there was a void of loneliness as great as that which haunted her.

She stared at him, realizing, now that she could spare attention for his face, that he was remarkably handsome. He was certainly well-built and his performance had spoken for his skill. So why would he be lonely? Hotaru shook her head, sending her hair swirling. She must have imagined it, must have read into his eyes what she wanted to see, or perhaps she'd merely seen herself reflected. Such a man as he could not know loneliness, not as she knew it.

"Hey, mister," one of the younger boys asked in his high piping voice, "can you show me how to do that?"

"That was so cool," his partner agreed.

The boy shook his head and for the first time she noticed that he wore his hair in a pigtail. "I am not licensed to teach," he replied.

At that and with the assumption that he was finished, most of the park-goers returned to their activities. A few boys stayed behind though, as did Hotaru, finding a seat beneath a tree.

The boy ignored the watchers and closed his eyes, beginning again a slow dance. She noticed that it was much simpler than what he had been doing and when some of the boys started trying to mimic his motions, Hotaru began watching him very closely.

She got the idea that he must have chosen a simple beginner's sequence as a way of teaching those who were interested without having to admit to awareness of their learning.

She watched intently though she made no move to mimic him as the boys were doing. Hotaru knew better than to exert herself here at the park and risk being helpless in public.

She watched him for what seemed like hours and it was only the darkening of the sky that finally drew her attention from him. She was deeply startled to realize how much time had passed and quickly fled the park.

Several more hours passed before Ranma finally came to a halt. He had not, as Hotaru had thought, gone to a simpler kata as a way of teaching without admitting it. Indeed, he hadn't given the watchers a second thought after answering their question.

In point of fact Ranma's disinterest in teaching was one of the factors that had led him to resist the marriage for so long. While certainly not the only nor even the largest factor, it did play a role.

Shortly after he met Dr. Tofu, Tofu had told him something. It was a proverb of sorts, a common saying, though much that would seem common to most people was unknown to Ranma. "Those who can, do, those who can't, teach."

Ranma hadn't heard that when he first came to the dojo, of course, but he had observed masters for many years and while he was not often much of one for logic, he was not slow at observation in matters pertaining to his Art.

Masters at dojos, he had learned, became tied to their dojo. The stories the masters told of their training always seemed to be in the past. Never had a master at a dojo told him in excitement of a new technique picked up on a recent training trip. Ranma's mind might not be the swiftest in some matters, but even for him it was easy to see that if they were truly learning new techniques regularly, they would show enthusiasm for the possibility.

So without understanding any of the details of why those masters stayed at their dojos and stopped seeking new techniques and skills, without any comprehension of the logistics, the business issues, and the politics that prevented it, he had understood in his gut that when he opened his dojo, he would cease to advance in the art.

Arriving at Nerima where he was threatened with taking over a dojo, he was immediately faced with an object lesson. Tendo Soun and his father had learned under the same master and had presumably been near in skill. His father had not had a dojo and had been able, sixteen years later, to give his son a reasonable workout. Tendo Soun had a dojo and after sixteen years, had not even managed to teach his daughter to fight competently and had clearly allowed his own training to lapse.

So his shift in style and choice of katas was not predicated on teaching, but on control.

Am I losing control?

That thought had sparked a rising fear within him, a recognition of danger and a premonition of disaster. If he lost control, then given the illogical and irrational behavior of so many of the people around him, it would not be long before he seriously injured someone.

So he had returned to the basics, seeking to calm himself, to find his center once again. He had not noted the passage of time. He lost himself in the ebb and flow of the kata, slowly working his way through the beginner sets.

When he finally returned to awareness of his surroundings, his watchers had gone, including the black haired girl, and the sky had descended into darkness.

"Dangit, I gotta get home, and quick," he muttered, then grinned slowly. It was late . . . very late and on a day when he'd given everyone plenty of reason to think twice about following him and he had reason to try and move quickly.

"Time to try," he said happily. He flared his aura. He had used more ki in that fight with Saffron than he ever had before in his life and while it had taken more out of him than he ever wanted to repeat, after he had recovered, he had discovered that his ki reserves had deepened.

He thought he had enough ki available to try something he'd seen done once. He wasn't quite ready to go all the way but the beginnings of the technique could be used as a good speed boost. If it worked.

He leapt into the air and began his normal progress towards the Tendo home. As he leapt he focused on his aura. Almost instantly he began to spin, sending him off course, slamming into the side of a building.

"Ite!"

Shaking off the impact, he leapt back to the roof. "Ok, that went wrong," he groused but there was no force behind the irritation. His mind was focused on the feel of his aura and in moments he was certain he knew what had gone wrong. Leaping again, he focused his aura and shot forward as if released from a gun.

He shouted in glee as he sped through the air. His aura was spinning about him in two vortexes. It definitely took a bit of concentration to get right, especially because they had to spin in opposite directions. Spin the same direction, or with a single vortex, and he himself would spin out of control, as he had the first time. With two opposing vortices however, he was able to literally pull himself forward through the air.

It required too much concentration and focus to be usable for flight yet, but it was the first step, and it greatly increased his speed. He landed on the Tendo roof in only a few minutes.

Hopping down into the yard, he cast an eye on his window. Closed, of course. Damned old man. Ranma walked around to the front and entered the house. It was later than he had thought, he noted, as he slipped silently through the darkened halls and into his room.

Back in the park where he had been a worried figure stood hidden in the darkness watching with fearful eyes. The figure did not move from the shadows until several fuku-clad girls bounced into the clearing. Finally, Sailor Mercury stepped from the shadows, breathing easier now that she was not alone.

Sailor Mars and Sailor Jupiter had been the closest and answered her call quickly. She had seen no sign of any youma or other unnatural creatures but she was decidedly nervous. It had been an unusually long time since they had had a sighting and she was worried that that simply meant that something really big was coming up.

Jupiter glanced around then gave a disgusted huff when she realized there were no apparent enemies to fight. After so long, she was itching for a good fight.

"So, what's the story, Mercury?" queried the raven haired Mars.

Mercury was focused on her computer, walking about the clearing, now that she was not alone. "There was an immense concentration of life energy here a short while ago," she said.

Mars opened her senses and gasped. "Wow, no kidding."

Mercury glanced at her. "You can sense it?"

"Yeah . . . it's like the atmosphere feels after I do a fire reading, but wow! This is way more intense."

"I'm also getting faint readings of negative energy," Mercury commented. "Not specifically Negaverse, but definitely negative."

"But there's no youma here, or cardian, or anything?" Jupiter sounded unhappy, and Mercury looked up.

"No, there doesn't seem to be. I'm sorry to call you," she said, apologetically, "but I... I was worried about facing something alone. Our experience thus far has indicated that new enemies are significantly harder than the last group we faced each time."

"S'okay," replied Jupiter, grinning, "I understand. I was just hoping there'd be something to pound on."

---

Nabiki rose and glared at her blaring alarm clock before hitting it, shutting off the alarm. She stared at the numerals for several long moments, trying to figure out why on earth she would have set her alarm to get her up fifteen minutes early. Finally it came to her and she leapt from her bed.

She gathered her clothes quickly and raced to the furo, pausing to make sure the occupied sign was not out before putting it out herself.

Exiting from the furo with a pleased sigh a while later, she headed for the living room. Glancing outside she saw Genma and Ranma engaged in their morning spar.

"You're up early," commented Kasumi as she set the place settings at the table.

"Yeah, got some business to take care of," replied Nabiki, eyes on the sparring Saotomes. She stepped up to the open door to the backyard after glancing around to make sure that Akane was not yet up and about. She was worried about how Akane would react to this and didn't want her around to hear about it. "Ranma," she called out. "I need to speak to you. Now."

Ranma jerked in surprise at her call and Genma crowed, "An opening!" A splash a moment later announced Ranma's introduction to the koi pond. A disgruntled onna-Ranma emerged and strode over to the house, pulling off her shirt to squeeze the water out. She eyed Nabiki suspiciously.

"What now, Nabiki?" Ranma's question was laced with suspicion but it was the tired sound to it that caught Nabiki's interest.

She set that consideration aside for the moment, however, as she had more important plans to make. "Don't disappear after school today, Saotome. I need to talk to you when we get back."

Ranma sighed and thought for a moment. "Yeah, alright, sure, I'll be here," she said then brushed past Nabiki and headed for the furo to get a quick shower.

To Ranma's surprise, breakfast passed without any comments regarding his behavior the day before. Hmm, I guess Akane and Nabiki must not have said anything about it. He watched Akane as she ate and was even more surprised to realize that she was not radiating anger. She wasn't looking at him either but still, he would have expected to have fended off another mallet attempt by now.

Glancing at Nabiki he noticed the absence of her usual smirk. She seemed worried about something, though the instant she noticed him looking her way, her face was once again expressionless and unrevealing. She left the table soon after, no doubt heading to the school to deal in her business again.

Setting aside his concerns about the behavior of the Tendos--after all, he had already come to the realization that he didn't understand them--he finished his breakfast in silence and grabbed his pack and lunch. He waited at the door until Akane showed. She seemed surprised to see him but said nothing as he walked with her.

She glanced his way when he took to the fence and sighed. He looked down at her when he heard her sigh but she was looking forward again. She didn't look sad, really, nor angry. He wasn't sure what to think but he refused to let it worry him.

He had more important things to worry about. He had been too tired when he came back the night before but he needed to pick up one of the scrolls he had hidden in the Tendo's attic.

It was one Tofu had given him, describing an ancient meditation technique. Ranma couldn't remember who Tofu had said it came from, but he remembered the description well enough.

"Emotion based ki can be dangerous," Tofu had warned. "To be effective you have to be surfeited with an emotion, to be full of it. That can lead to dangerous consequences. I'm sure you would think Ryouga the perfect example, but in fact, you are as well."

"Once you learned the Mouko Takabisha, you took to using confidence to bolster your battle aura as well, I've noticed."

"But Doc," Ranma protested, "it's not like it's gonna make me suicidal or something, so what's the problem?"

"Actually, Ranma," Tofu said, narrowing his gaze, "it could make you suicidal." He cut off Ranma's disbelieving negation. "Think about it. There are two ways in which one may be suicidal. Depression leads to suicidal tendencies, in which the individual seeks to take his own life. Confidence, on the other hand, leads to over-confidence, to an unconcern about risks that are potentially lethal. It can hamper your judgement."

Ranma considered the doctor's words as he walked beside his fiancee. The scroll he was interested in described a technique that Tofu had said could conceal the user. It had sounded a lot like one of his father's Umi-sen-ken techniques and since Ranma already knew that technique, he had set the scroll aside in favor of other scrolls describing interesting attacks, several of which he had secretly mastered.

Now, though, he was reconsidering his decision. Tofu had recommended the scroll as a counter-balance to Ranma's confidence ki. With his concerns the afternoon before about losing control, Ranma decided it was time to learn the technique of the Void and the Flame.

Kuno was near the gates as usual, awaiting his opportunity to cast his challenge. Ranma did not deign to notice him when he stepped out, spouting his usual nonsense. He simply slipped past him and into the building, leaving Akane to deal with him.

Nabiki growled softly, standing in an upper-story window. Akane pounded Kuno with her usual lack of finesse, so there certainly had been no real harm to Ranma's change of tactics. It wasn't so much what he had done that irritated her, as that she hadn't predicted it.

Why was he changing? More importantly, what did it mean for her family, for Akane? He had stopped taking Akane's mallet blows and Nabiki was worried that it meant he had simply stopped caring. "Oh, Akane," she murmured under her breath, "I hope this doesn't mean what I think it does." One last chance, that was the impression she got.

If his altered behavior after the wedding had been prompted by a recognition of his own feelings, she decided, he would not have suddenly blocked her mallet. No, the only logical explanation was that his niceness after Jusendo was him giving her one last chance for honor's sake.

What about his actually buying lunch from Ukyou yesterday, as well? It had precipitated the mallet incident and that had put it from most people's minds, but Nabiki could not afford to let crucial clues like that slip through her fingers.

It seemed a strange way to make up, Nabiki considered as she took her seat after having watched long enough to be sure that Kuno would make it in under his own power. Surely Ukyou would have been ecstatic just to have him talking to her again.

Furious as Akane had been the last few weeks, Nabiki had kept her eyes open, and knew the truth of Ranma's actions. He had not, in spite of Akane's suspicions, so much as spoken to any of his other fiancee's since the return, until yesterday.

So what could it mean that he was now actually buying his lunch from her? Paying her for what she would gladly have given him for nothing? It certainly wasn't in Ranma's nature, or at least, she would have sworn it wasn't, to refuse free food, yet that was what he had seemingly done.

That it was significant Nabiki was certain. Exactly how, she still hadn't quite figured out.

She looked up as Kuno came in looking little worse for wear from Akane's retaliation. Was her sister slipping? "Hey, Kuno-baby," Nabiki cooed as he took his seat.

He directed a glare at her then immediately softened it. She grinned inside. That soft look meant a soft touch; he wanted something.

"Tell me, Tendo-san, why the foul sorceror fled from my noble challenge this morning?"

Nabiki sighed unhappily. Stupid question, but she didn't have the answer. Not the real reason anyway and definitely not one Kuno would accept. 'Because you bore him,' would probably be close but she didn't sell guesses.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I can find out. 2000 yen." She held out her hand and Kuno forked over the dosh.

Time passed with remarkable silence, leaving many of the students nervously awaiting the explosion they felt was long overdue. It did not come. At lunch, Ranma again purchased an okynomiyaki from Ukyou, but this time Akane made no protest.

She watched him, which her friends noticed, but there was neither sadness nor anger in her gaze, which confused them enough that they weren't sure whether he was a safe topic to bring up, and therefore avoided it.

Akane stayed after school for some club activity or other, so Ranma went home alone. Shortly after he entered his room, his door opened, and Nabiki beckoned.

He followed her to her room where she shut the door behind him. She pointed to her desk.

"Sit," she ordered.

He did so but cast an irritated gaze at her. "What's this about, Nabiki?" he asked. He wanted to obtain that scroll and start studying it. He certainly did not want to spend time dealing with one of her schemes.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he noticed that she had set up an easel in the corner of her room and resting on it was a pad of poster paper.

"You blocked Akane's mallet yesterday," Nabiki said evenly.

"Yeah, so what," he returned. Why hadn't she said anything about this before, if she was going to complain? He hoped that her easel wasn't for bar charts like he had noticed in one of the magazines she had left in the living room once. They were really boring and he didn't want to listen to another lecture about how much he was hurting her profit.

"I had to pay out a rather substantial debt because of you, Saotome," she continued, watching his reaction rather closely. She was just about certain from his reactions that he was not the one who had orchestrated that bet, in spite of the suspicions she'd had when she had read that sheet of instructions.

"And?" Ranma put as much boredom as he could in his tone.

"You surprised me," she continued. "And as a result of that bet, I have to be your sensei for a while."

Ranma looked at her strangely. "What? You ain't a sensei. You don't even practice the Art."

"Not quite correct, Saotome. I do practice an Art... two of them, actually. You're only here to learn one."

She flipped the blank sheet over top of the easel, exposing the first sheet to Ranma's questioning gaze. His eyes bugged out and he stared at her in disbelief.

She nodded firmly. "Don't fight it Saotome, you don't want to know how far I'll go to make sure you learn this."

Training

When school let out, Hotaru made her way directly to the park where she had seen the pigtailed boy. She walked slowly, keeping her eyes out for the sort of disturbance she'd seen the last time.

After a little more than half an hour, she was forced to concede that he was not present and with a sigh of resignation, she headed to her home.

Entering her house she headed straight for the stairs, then jerked in surprise when Kaori appeared beside her with a tray of cookies. "Have some snacks with your studying, Hotaru-chan," the beautiful redhead said, a pleasant smile on her face belying the dislike, hatred even, burning in her eyes.

Hotaru nodded quickly, grabbing the tray, and hurrying out of Kaori's sight. She could not really complain about her father needing company after her mother's death, but something about Kaori rubbed her the wrong way. She certainly seemed nice enough, yet Hotaru was never comfortable around her.

There was never any outward sign of it, but Hotaru felt that Kaori resented her, maybe even disliked her, because her father loved her. It did not make sense to Hotaru for a beautiful woman like Kaori to be jealous of a weak friendless girl but then, the reactions of the kids at school to her abilities did not make sense either.

In the privacy of her room, Hotaru hurried through her schoolwork. When she finished, she went to her door and locked it. She did not want anyone knowing what she was doing.

She might not feel safe trying to do what that boy did in the park, but there was no reason she could not try in the safety of her own room.

She moved a few lamps to make sure she had enough room, then stood in the center of the room and closed her eyes. After a few moments, the image of the pigtailed boy and his first stance was clear in her mind. Focusing on one limb at a time, Hotaru tried to mimic his positioning. She was not sure why she felt it was so important to match his movements precisely.

Maybe it was simply because he himself had moved with such precision. That, she decided, was part of what made the difference between the ugly fights at school and the beauty of his fighting.

She curled her fist, trying to picture the way he had held it, then slowly punched forward, mimicking his first attack. It certainly wasn't a fast punch; she was trying to move at the speed he had, and though he had moved with impressive speed when she first saw him, the moves she was imitating had been made slowly.

Ten minutes later, she collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. She couldn't believe how sore she felt just from taking one position after another. Of course, the fact that some of them had involved holding one leg in the air through several positions could easily have had a lot to do with her current state of exhaustion.

As usual, however, the exhaustion did not last long and when it faded, she rose and began again.

---

Ranma glanced again at the sheet. In bold letters it read "Anything Goes Martial Arts Socialization." He turned back to Nabiki. "You can't really mean," he began but she cut him off.

"Give me ten minutes, Ranma, please."

Ranma subsided. Ten minutes was not so much to ask. "Alright, Nabiki. Ten minutes. So what kinda scheme is this?"

Nabiki ignored his ending jibe, turning instead to flip the sheet over. Ranma turned his attention to it. He read the list aloud to himself, wondering what the point was. "Sparring, Fighting, Fighting All Out, Berserk. What's this, Nabiki? I thought you were talking about Soc.. Socialling?"

"Socializing, Ranma," Nabiki corrected. "This is part of it. Tell me, Ranma, you encounter someone, say, Ryouga, or Genma, and start sparring. How do you get them to stop sparring and start fighting?"

"Oh, that's easy, not like I need it for pig-boy, though. Just throw a few insults, or if their skills are low enough, just dodge everything."

"Insults, Ranma, are the equivalent of a slap in Martial Arts Socialization, and frankly, that's the only technique you know." Nabiki pulled out a marker, and drew a line down beside the list of words and put an arrowhead on the bottom, so that the line became an arrow pointing in the direction from sparring to berserk.

"It is a one way attack," she continued, then flipped the page.

Ranma again read the words aloud. "Calm, irritated, angry, berserk. Ends the same."

"Yes," Nabiki replied, "it does. This, Ranma, is a list of social phases that match the fighting phases on the first chart. They are linked, though other factors may prevent the connection."

Ranma looked at her blankly. "Huh?"

Nabiki sighed. "Simple, Ranma, to get a fighter to move from fighting to fighting you all-out, you have to make them angry instead of merely irritated. Make sense?"

"Ok, yeah, so what was the part about factors?" Ranma crossed his fingers, hoping that she wasn't about to launch into a math explanation.

"Factors?" Nabiki was puzzled momentarily. Her eyes lit up as she made the connection. "Ah, yes. Just because someone is mad, does not mean they will be fighting. Moving someone from calm to irritated likewise does not mean they will be attacking you. Not everyone will react that way. However, if they are already sparring, the link is there, and pushing them down this set of stages will likewise move them down the set of fighting stages."

"Uhm... ok, I guess."

"You use the one technique you have very well, Saotome. Happosai, Genma, Akane, Ryouga, with all of them, you never seem to have difficulty getting them fighting mad, right?"

"Yeah." Ranma sat up a little straighter, a prideful grin spreading on his face.

"So why are you at a loss every time our fathers get on your case about things you haven't even done?" Nabiki smirked at him.

"I dunno," Ranma said, sitting back a bit sullenly.

"Ranma, look at it this way. If someone doesn't know how to fight at all, has no experience at it, Daisuke, for example, you could take him out with a single punch, right?"

"Yeah, easy."

"But if they know how to fight, if they have techniques of their own, if they can recognize and respond to your techniques, then it takes more than a single punch to beat them, right?"

"Well, sure. I mean, unless you like attacked from hiding or something. But that wouldn't be honorable."

A feral grin lit Nabiki's features. She'd done it, she'd finally managed to engage that brain that he hid so well. "You can't beat our fathers for two reasons. The first is that they know more techniques than you. The second, is because the one technique you have is useless in that situation. Why is that?"

Ranma looked at her for a minute, then looked at the chart. "It only g