"Nabiki?" Ukyo tapped the shoulder of her friend. "Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not," the older woman said.  "I'm not sure if I will ever be." At the mention of Nabiki's problem, Ukyo nodded soberly.  It was all she could do to put up a brave front as well.  It was all any of them were doing, especially in the past few days.  Only four days had passed since Akane's funeral, and a dark pallor seemed to nestle over the entire neighborhood, as though the sun had only come for the youngest Tendo daughter.  For the past few days, it had been perpetually cloudy; not raining, as though out of respect for Ranma, but not clear, either.

"How's…" Ukyo ventured asking, but trailed off on the end of the sentence, unable to get the words out.

It didn’t matter, as Nabiki understood regardless – how could she not?  "Still won't speak to anyone," she commented, wistfully.  "He sits in the dojo and hasn't come out to eat or drink or anything.  Everyone's tried to do something, but it's no good.  If it wasn't for Kasumi, there'd be no one to take care of little Akama right now.  It's not like he's human anymore."  Her eyes began to well.

Ukyo's eyes also teared in understanding.  She wished that she could do something for her best friend and sometime love interest.  She'd always wanted her shot at Ranma, but Akane got in the way and in the end was the one that successfully got him.  Ukyo wanted another chance, but not at this price…never at this price.  She vowed to herself that she would try again, but it would be a while down the road, when – if – he would let anyone back into his heart again.

A voice called softly from behind her, "Ukyo-sama, if you want to go see Ranma-sama, I can keep the restaurant open for you."  As always, Konatsu was sacrificing for her benefit, allowing her to go to the man she loved; just as he always did, even prior to Ranma and Akane's marriage.

For the first time in a while, she realized how much Konatsu was just like her, being nothing more than a friend, though wishing for more than was possible at the present time – perhaps forever.  It was not an insignificant deed, even considering that Konatsu himself respected Ranma almost as much as he adored her.

Without comment, she turned and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Konatsu.  And I'm sorry."

Konatsu, feeling uncomfortable, asked, "Why, whatever for, Ukyo-sama?"  But she didn't answer, merely letting go of her embrace and running upstairs for a jacket. Turning to Nabiki, he asked, "Do you know what that was all about, Tendo-san?"

Nabiki didn't answer him.  She was too preoccupied in trying not to cry.

The dojo, dark and silent, just like the sky, just like the world.

"Ranma, you're not doing any good to yourself sitting here like this," a voice said, its owner on the verge of exasperation.  "You've sat here for four days, like some damn statue!"  The speaker was a young man, 22 years old, with a mop of jet black hair tied somewhat in place by a yellow bandanna.  His green eyes flickered between concern and anger, and whenever he opened his mouth, a pair of canines longer than the human norm showed.  He wore nothing but a faded black tunic and blue monpei pants secured with a black belt.  "Damn it," Ryoga said, his voice filling with tones of exasperation, "why are you doing this to yourself?"

The person whom Ryoga addressed was a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, though looks alone can oft be deceiving.  She had long red hair tied in a Chinese braid, though it was unraveling from the looks of it.  Her normally sparkling blue eyes were almost the same shade of red as her hair; tear tracks down her face told the reason why.  Her clothing, consisting of a black long-sleeve Chinese tang, and matching mist-gray pants, were rumpled, as though she'd slept in them for several days.

Of course, that would imply that this person slept.  Or ate.  Or did anything in the scope of humanity's basic functions.  Such was, however, not the case.  Since her wife's untimely death, Saotome Ranma didn't really live within the realm of human functions any more…nor did she want to live in the scope of humanity.  She wanted nothing anymore except for the sweet pain of emptiness and entropy.

"DAMN YOU, RANMA!" Ryoga screamed, unable to tolerate the redhead statue bit any longer.  "WOULD YOU WANT AKANE TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS?!?!  HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING THAT MADE HER LOVE YOU?!?!!?  WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT IRRESPONSIBLE BASTARD WHO SHE LOVED?!?!?!"  Ryoga grew angry and more frustrated at his friend's ominous silence.  "WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS, RANMA?!?!?!  HOW DO YOU THINK WE FEEL, SEEING YOU LIKE THIS?!???!  WHAT ABOUT YOUR SON?!?!?  OR HAVE YOU GIVEN UP ON HIM, TOO?!!?!?"  Ryoga got so infuriated that he punched forward without thinking, slamming his fist into Ranma's face.  The fact that he lost control like that when he'd spent so much time with Akari learning to control that anger, worried him.

The thing that worried him more, though, was that Ranma took the blow.  Didn't block, didn't counter, didn't even try to dodge, but took the hit right across her face and didn't flinch as it hit.  She sat there, with her cheek turning red from where he'd connected, continuing to stare at the blank wall of the dojo.

Ryoga, stunned by what he'd done to his closest friend, said, "I'm sorry," and walked out the door, back into the Tendo home.

In another part of Nerima, a young woman walked down the street, glancing at a paper every so often and looking at houses she passed by as though she were searching for a specific address.  She was apparently in her late teens or early twenties, with short black hair, black eyes and high cheekbones, all in a classic face.  She wore no makeup, and the loose sweater and jeans she wore hinted at a well-kept figure.  Over her shoulder, she had slung a long pack as though she was carrying a pool cue or something of the like.

As she rounded the corner, she heard a voice call out, "Fair maiden that I have not seen before, thou hast caught the attention of the noble and magnificent Kuno Tatewaki. Who are you, thou vision of loveliness?"

Without looking up from her map, or even stopping, she said, "My name is Keiei.  Fuitamu Keiei of the School of Combined Jigenryu and Bushin Arts."  Her voice was so lacking in interest, a recorded response of a phone service would have sounded livelier.

"And what is your reason for arrival, oh goddess who I see before me?"

She considered answering with a response along the lines of "None of your business, bozo," but correctly determined that such a turn of phrase would not repel him.  Still peering into her map, she replied, "It is a burning desire for revenge and a promise to keep.  I come back to Tokyo to seek revenge against my rival and to find the person who I am to be with."

"Well, I can help you with the latter, for if fate is to be true, then I challenge you!"

Keiei looked up from her map, wondering if she’d heard the moron correctly.  "Come again?"

Kuno raced in towards her, bokken at the ready.  "The contest rules are set: if I win, I shall date with you.  If you are the victor, than I shall allow you to date with me!"  He brought his bokken up as he charged, the brown-lacquered wooden sword held in a thrusting position as though one solitary strike would be all that he would need.

Muttering to herself, "Great. Just great," she folded her map, slid it in her back pocket, then stopped.  Hearing his approach, she turned her head slightly and followed his path with her eyes.

Tatewaki Kuno, at the age of 23, was already a grandmaster of Kendo, also the national champion in the same field.  Though not respected by most of the other martial artists in Nerima, he was skillful with his weapon and knew the art of swordsmanship quite well.  No ordinary martial artist could hope to defeat him.

Keiei was anything but ordinary.

In a move that few could have matched much less countered, she spun, pulled out a long, jet-black object out of the pack, and screamed "Shippu-kurogen!" Keiei slashed the bokken at an incredible speed, far faster than Kuno could have even hoped to accomplish.  There was a flash of dark, and in one move, Kuno’s bokken was pulped as surely as if it had been thrown into a wood chipper.  Something slammed him to the ground and had there been a bystander, that person would have noticed a pressure wave, warping the air, forcing Kuno to the prone.

As for Kuno himself, he stared in vague fascination at the tip of the blade, as dark as a moonless night, and the pectoral it rested against.  His pectoral.  Slowly he raised his eyes to meet her cold pair.

"Do you yield?"  She held the blade at him, the look of someone annoyed at a distraction in her eyes.

Predictably (to those who knew him), his face took a look of adoration.  "You have proven your worth, O Beauteous One!  The heavens themselves must smile upon thee indeed, given thy divine skill and magnificence.  Truly such perfection can be cherished only by one such as glorious and noble as—Irk—"

Keiei spared a moment to admire her handiwork; a slit, less than an inch deep, on this idiot's chest courtesy of her katana.  Confirming that she had not caused permanent damage, she repeated, "Do you yield?"

Kuno nodded, the lone hamster operating his mind seeking a refugee status in another country and thinking about retirement.

She toyed with the idea of scaring him some more but decided against it, not wanting to attract attention.  Deliberately slowly, she withdrew her blade, taking a moment to wipe off the blood on Kuno's hakama.  She did not look back as she left behind a frozen swordsman.

For once, Kuno Tatewaki met a woman that even his somewhat formidable mind could not handle.

"Ryoga, is he…?" a woman's voice asked.

"No, he isn't, Saotome-san," Ryoga answered to Ranma's mother.  "I wish he would." Looking clearly dejected, Ryoga sat at the table, joining Nodoka and Kasumi.  A short distance away, a Panda was playing a solitary game of go.  The seat across from him, almost always occupied by the owner of the house, was and had been empty for the past few days.  It didn't appear as though it was going to change anytime soon.

"Would you like some tea, Ryoga?" Kasumi asked, which Ryoga took gladly.  Since Akane's death, Kasumi had hovered near the Tendo home, as did Nodoka.  Although she lived with her husband now, she knew that her family needed her more than ever.  Sadly, though, things had seemed too quiet: her father, still hurting all these years after their mother's death, had not come out of his room since Akane's funeral; likewise, Ranma was doing much the same thing in light of his circumstances.  The fact that two men of such different generations could act the same bothered Kasumi.

She looked around the room. There weren't any smiles there, and there shouldn't have been, to be honest.  The pain was still present, permeable and palpable.  Time would heal the wounds, but the key there was time, and in a strange sense, it seemed very much as if time refused to march on, as though they would all be doomed to a melancholy existence which made the chaos of years back seem like a blessing.

The wail of a baby sounded in Ranma's room, sharp and piercing in its tones.  Young Akama was crying, calling out to be fed by a mother that could no longer do so for him.  Kasumi thought that only the baby, a mere two weeks old, would be the only one spared the pain of what had happened.  Akama would grow up, never knowing his namesake personally, though she knew Ranma would tell his son all about Saotome Akane.

Instinctively, both Nodoka and Kasumi rose to their feet.  Both women knew the call of motherhood well, as Nodoka was now a grandmother and Kasumi was in her first trimester, though it had yet to show on her.  Either one would have gone for the formula sitting in the refrigerator, if Nabiki hadn't come in at exactly that moment and heard the child.  Hearing Akama, she handed her jacket to Ukyo, then turned towards the kitchen, commenting, "I'll get it, you two. Stay put." Racing upstairs, bottle in hand, Nabiki said, "I'll be back in a few moments, Ukyo!"

Nodoka and Kasumi looked at each other and gave a sort of smile.  If there had been one good thing that had come out of this, it had been the change that had come over Nabiki in the past few days.  Nabiki was tending to Akama with a determination as though he had been her own child.  Somehow, a new sense of compassion had been engendered in the young woman, and hopefully it would stay there.

In the meanwhile, the okonomiyaki chef pulled a seat right next to Ryoga.  "How is he?" she asked, as Kasumi poured a cup for the new arrival.

"Not well, Ukyo," Ryoga admitted.  "I spent the past hour trying to get through to him, and it…."  Ryoga shook his head in frustration. "Arrgh, damn it, it's like he doesn't want to live, Ukyo!  It’s like he'd rather join Akane!"

In spite of the situation, Ukyo smiled.  "You know, it wasn't that long ago that you would have wanted him to be…."  She trailed off, rather than state that word.  At the moment, it just didn't seem like the right thing to say.

"I know," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, as his head lowered.  The reaction was so unlike Ryoga, everyone did a double take.  "That was before I realized that he was my closest pal, before I realized a lot of things."

Ukyo turned to Nodoka.  "Auntie, isn't there anything we can do about Ranma?"

"I don't know, Ukyo," she replied gently.  "I just don't know."

The group stared at the table in collective silence, trying to fathom reason from the unreasonable, and hoping for some sort of answer to the problem that lay before them, an answer that would never come unless one could turn back the tides of time.

Half an hour later, Keiei gave a disgusted sigh and put away the map again.  "Argh! Just where IS that dojo?"  She growled in obvious frustration, irritated at having to stand in a waiting line while her lifework's fulfillment was virtually around the corner.

"A dojo?" A man's voice answered, apparently overhearing her.  "Do you mean the Saotome-Tendo Dojo?"  Turning around, she saw a bespectacled man appear from the building she had just passed.  He appeared to be about a decade older than her, and had a wise look on his face.  She also didn't miss that he was moving in a way best suited to conceal his existence; strange, considering that she also sensed no harmful intent from him, as well as the aura of a healer radiating from him. 

Trying not to sound too eager, she replied, "Yes.  Can you direct me to it?"

"Go straight on this road, turn right at the fourth intersection, then just keep going.  You can't miss it."  He frowned, eyes narrowing in suspicion.  "What business do you have there?"

"I'm a dojo-yaburi."  She presented the customary lie with a straight face, appearing sincere if a little unusual for a typical “dojo breaker”.  It wasn't her habit, but she didn't want to cause any complications by revealing her true purpose.  "I have heard of the fame and strength of the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryu, and wish to challenge it."

The man relaxed slightly at hearing this, as though it were commonplace.  Odd, that.  "Well then, I'm afraid you came at the worst possible moment."

"Why is that?"

The man hesitated visibly, choosing his words carefully. "Well, you see…the grandmaster of the school…his wife—"  Ono Tofu had a glimpse of shock, horror, and frustration racing across the young woman's features before she turned and rapidly ran, presumably toward her destination.  Staring at her rapidly receding back he mumbled, "Now what was that about?"

Ukyo sat down, heavy-hearted.  Those who knew her were bothered to see her without the usual air of cheer on her.  She resembled an okonomiyaki missing a vital ingredient, such as flour, but in this room, she was merely just another dour face in a dour time.

"No luck?" Ryoga asked, hoping against hope that he was wrong and Ukyo, whom he knew to be much more understanding of Ranma than he, had succeeded.  However, he knew that the likely case was that she would meet with as sound a defeat as the rest of them, leaving the broken soul remaining in the dojo.  Sadly, of all times, he was right on this occasion.

"No luck."  Ukyo looked ready to break down.  Considering that her lifelong friend/fiancé was near death in mind with body gradually catching up, he was surprised she hadn't done so already, as he had just done.  "I tried everything I could think of.  I even tried meowing like a cat."  Her fists clenched tightly.  "I feel so powerless!  I can't do anything to help him!"

Nabiki sighed, looking no less tired than any other occupant in the room.  "Don't blame yourself, Ukyo. I don't think he would do so much as bat an eyebrow if I placed a keg of Nanniichuan water in front of him."  It was not a joke, and everyone knew it.  "If only I could do something more…."

"Yes, yes, if only Akane didn't die.  If only those damnable Amazons didn't exist.  If only I kept my son in my arms, like a mother should.  IF ONLY ANY OF THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN AT ALL!!"  Everyone stared at Nodoka, startled by her hysterical outburst.  For a moment the Saotome matriarch seemed ready to shriek some more, then regained her center and took a deep breath.  "I am sorry…that was undignified of me. Just…please don't mention 'if only' around me.  I'm not sure I can restrain myself."

The mood dropped to new depth, nobody daring to speak out the thoughts haunting them; unfortunately, said thoughts weren't about to give them a break.  Was this how the rest of their lives were going to be?  Slowly losing sanity, then life?  Would there ever be an end to the reign of woe upon them?

A loud TWACK rang across the household, interrupting the cicadas' rock concert and dragging everyone out of their misery.  Ryoga stood and examined the object embedded on the outer wall, frowning when he saw what it was.

"Ryoga? What is it?" Ukyo asked.

He pulled, yanking it out from the wood. "It's an arrow. With a paper attached to it."

Nabiki groaned.  As if the last one didn't do enough damage, fate saw them fit to send another letter.  She mentally gave it 1 to 500 odds of being anything good, figuring the odds of it being a blessing being too astronomical to count.  "Who is it from and what does it say?"

"Only one way to find out."  Ryoga removed the piece of paper tied to the arrow, rolling it open.  Within seconds of reading the message to himself, he crumpled it and threw it away, a decidedly annoyed look on his face.

"Ryoga-kun? What is it?"  Nodoka's query was ignored by the fanged young man as he approached her currently inhuman spouse.  Genma blinked as an irate Ryoga picked him up like a sack of potatoes with a single hand.

"Okay, you pile of useless fur, what did you do this time?" Ryoga all but snarled.  His fabled depression, having been accumulated due to the obvious, was begging for an outlet, and he was severely tempted to use the beast in his hand as a punching bag.

Ukyo, never one to leap to Genma's defense, ignored the Panda as it protested its innocence via wooden signs; instead she retrieved the paper and carefully straightened it before reading it aloud:

Ukyo let out a groan that was echoed by other women in the room.  Meanwhile, Ryoga kept Genma's body a foot above the floor.

The phone rang out suddenly, saving the eldest Saotome from icy stares for exactly two seconds.  Kasumi went to the hallway to get it, and their attention was returned to Genma.

"Who is this Keiei?" Nabiki asked in a flat, cold tone that had not been used for a while.  It was the tone she used for her “business dealings,” the very tone of a master of blackmailing and extortion that had earned her the infamous titles of Yen Cobra and Ice Queen.

[[I don't have any idea! Honest!]] Genma's sign read.  Upon seeing this, Nodoka stood up and quietly left the room, unnoticed by anyone.

Ukyo withdrew her monstrous spatula with a deliberate slowness.  "You’ve got a lot of nerve, saying something like that with ME around."

The obvious implication at their past relationship was not lost on Ryoga.  "You’ve sold Ranma almost as many times as I get lost."  Raising his other fist to the Panda’s face, he seethed in dangerous tones, “Maybe it’s time you get lost.  Permanently.”

[[Exactly!]] Genma wrote, frightfully ignoring Ryoga’s first comments.  Another sign was produced, then flipped over.  [[I can't remember every person I engaged Ranma to!]]

"In that case, I can improve your memory."  Nodoka stepped back in, cradling an all-too-familiar long bundle of silk.  Beneath the covers her family heirloom slept, thirsty for blood and hungry for flesh even in its slumber.

None knew these better than Saotome Genma did.  He quickly materialized a big sign and started writing on it, only to be interrupted by Nabiki via scalding hot water from the teakettle.  "Talk."  Her voice left no doubts about her intentions if he didn't cough up ALL of information she wanted.

Even though she had set the place for the duel, Keiei had trouble finding it.  What should have been a fifteen minutes walk from the Tendo dojo had instead taken an hour.  She could care less, however, chalking it up to the giddiness she felt at the moment.  One of her dreams, one she had devoted her last six years to, was close to fruition.  What was an hour next to that?

Like all who had been traumatized in their life, the memories of her happy childhood when tomorrow was filled with promise were hazy and almost unrecognizable. Those memories were all shattered into barely recognizable shards by the events that tore up her life as well.  Perhaps if one could have been able to reconstruct them, they might have told the story of a girl who was denied her moments of glory by those better than her, but probably not.  To Keiei, they were the broken, jagged reminders of who she was and who she became – and the people responsible for making her that way:

She was thirteen, never defeated by anyone in her age group.  She was in the finals of a Kendo tournament, virtually assured of victory.  So had her parents and friends, and audience opinion was generally leaning on the case of her domination of the competition.   Some of her opponents even conceded the match entirely, not willing to experience what they saw as a brutal beating.  So, upon seeing that her last opponent was a mousy redhead that didn't look at all confident, she decided to go easy.

What harm could it possibly do?

The type of harm that would haunt Keiei forever.

She was caught off guard in first round and lost a point by face.  She then held nothing back, and won the second round.  But at the third round, her accursed enemy somehow slipped through her fierce offense and launched a counterstroke, taking the point, the match, and the victory of the entire tournament, to a complete upset by the crowd.  Even worse, it was announced that this was the first tournament for the girl, someone who had very little experience in the Art prior to.

Keiei remembered very little of the rest of the announcer’s statements.  She only remembered the next few seconds very vividly.  Her mind had shut down, unable to comprehend the alien concept of defeat.  Fuitamu Keiei, the scion of her family, a family that was nigh unstoppable in these tournaments, trumped by a girl not as talented, a neophyte pretender to the throne of greatness wrested from Keiei’s grasp.

Then that… that… BITCH offered her a hand, and said something that she didn't understand. She only knew it as a sentence to her failure, and so ran from Shidou Hikaru.

It was a year later, after an year of cursing her enemy, hating herself for not being good enough, and enduring the look her relatives threw at her, was when the Saotomes challenged their school and she had regained hope.

At first she had thought nothing of Ranma.  Nothing before he defeated her father with his bare hands.  Nothing before seeing him fight like a creature specifically designed for it.  Nothing before he attacked, defended, and moved with a grace and perfection she had previously deemed impossible.  Nothing before she realized that if she could have him, could be with him, she would once again be the best and never have to worry about losing that status.

After the fight, she had managed to be alone with her father and begged him to convince the Saotomes to take her with them.  He was all too happy to do so, preferring to lose his daughter rather than the dojo sign, the mark of their tradition.  Thus her joy was beyond description when it was agreed that not only she would be taken along, she would actually be engaged to her idol.

Equally great was her sorrow at next morning when they found the Saotomes gone, with the dowry taken and Keiei left behind.  She was deemed unworthy, that was the conclusion everyone reached.  After all, who would want a failure like her?

But this time, instead of being crashed again, however, this time her passion and fervor had reawakened with vengeance.  She threw herself at training, ignoring education, friendship, and other distractions.  She improved herself until she surpassed any of her family members and thus was worthy of her hero.  She dreamed of the day when Ranma would look at her with love and adoration, when Hikaru would be lying dead at her feet, when finally she would once again be the best there was.

Now it would come true.

Keiei got out a well-worn oilstone out of her pack, and set to her task.  Her katana, Murasame, was of a fine quality rarely seen even in the impressive standards of Japanese blades, but it could never be too sharp to drink the blood of soon-to-be-deceased Mrs. Saotome.  She would slay her obstacle and claim the hand of her one true love, the most and only ideal man for her.

Kasumi walked back in, a slight frown on her face.  She had been doing it so often these days that she wondered if she could ever smile sincerely again.  "That was Tofu.  He said that a young woman with a katana asked for directions to get here."

"That's probably this Fuitamu woman," Ryoga noted.

"How did she get engaged to Ranma?" Kasumi asked.

"It's a little different from the usual case. Genma made Ranma fight her father and tried to get some money in exchange of not taking the dojo sign.  Instead she was offered as a bride – with a dowry, of course.  The rest is history."  Nabiki snorted.  A month ago, she would have been watching this with amusement and trying to figure out a way to make some profit.  Now, the thought didn't even enter her mind.

"Well, I needed to get some money somehow…"  Genma cringed under the looks he received.  "And besides, the daughter offered herself!  There's nothing wrong with refusing part of a present you don't want!"

"A PRESENT!?" Ukyo screeched.  "This is a human being we are talking about, not some object!  Did you think about how heartbroken the poor girl would be?  About what kind of humiliation she would have to face?  And that's not even considering the fact that you engaged Ranchan off yet again!"

Genma did the wisest thing he could.  He shut his mouth.

"Ukyo, please calm down," Nodoka said in hopefully calming tones. She was starting to get a headache while she was dealing with the other pain, the one she was married to.  "We must deal with one thing at a time.  Now, what shall we do with Keiei-san?"

"Can't we just ignore it?  Akane's…well, you know.  There's nobody to take up this challenge, so it shouldn't be dishonorable to do so," Nabiki suggested.

Nodoka shook her head.  "I'm afraid that it's not so simple.  In this circumstance, the duty of answering this challenge lies in you, Nabiki.  Giri demands that it must be so."

Nabiki blinked, followed by others.  "You have got to be kidding!  I haven't trained for more than a decade!  How do you expect me to defend myself, much less beat this challenger who very obviously wants to kill me!?"

Nodoka repeated her earlier gesture.  "The honor and bonds between our families demands so, as does the responsibility of Akane’s position.  I know that it's unreasonable, even cruel, to ask you to do this, but there is nobody else to answer this."

"Yes there is! I can!" Ukyo canted.

The others turned to look at her with varying looks.  Kasumi with gratefulness, Ryoga and Genma with incomprehension, Nabiki uncertainty, and Nodoka challengingly.

"I was, and still am, Ranma's fiancée…now the only one left, other than this newcomer."  Ukyo paused a moment to lick her lips before continuing with her speech.  "It's within my right and duty to answer this challenge to defend my position, even if the challenge was directed at Akane."

The woman acknowledged as the best okonomiyaki cook in the world met the gaze belonging to an older woman who, under different events, would have become her mother-in-law.  She still had every intention of making it so, no matter how long or what it took.

After several tense seconds, Nodoka finally allowed a smile to appear on her face.  "Well said, Ukyo. I shall assign this task upon you, and wait for your victorious return."

Ukyo grinned back, her face shining vivaciously at last.  She, for the moment, was back to the "Ucchan" that everyone were familiar with.  "Count on it! I have years of experiences fighting for Ranchan! Just one thing though."

Nabiki asked suspiciously, "You aren't asking for Ranma's hand in exchange for this, are you?"

Ukyo snorted.  "Give me a break.  I'm just asking you all to make sure this jackass won't escape before I come back."  She pointed at the cringing Genma.  "I have a lot of things I want to 'discuss' with him."

Before Genma could bolt for it, Ryoga grabbed his collar and picked him off the ground once again.  "Get in line, Ukyo. I always wanted to see if the Bakusai Tenketsu worked on bones."

Everyone, save for Nodoka, shared a good laugh at his pathetic scream.  Nodoka merely turned to the window, wondering if Ukyo’s impending combat would be an end to all this, or the beginning of a worse crisis.

Keiei opened her eyes, but did not turn around to face her opponent, nor did she relax from her meditative posture.  "You have come."

Ukyo, having made no attempt to conceal her presence, was not impressed.  "Yeah, I did."

The swordswoman stood slowly and turned around.  What she saw puzzled her somewhat; a relatively tall woman with middle-length chestnut hair tied with a simple bow, wearing a blue gi-like clothing with the kanji for 'like' printed all over it.  The spatulas, both the small ones on her front and the huge one strapped on her back, did not help with her confusion.  "Is this a joke?" Keiei narrowed her eyes.  "You do not seem like a warrior of any sort."

"Don't underestimate me."  Ukyo got into a stance, whipping out her weapon.  "I'm Kuonji Ukyo, practitioner of Kuonji-ryu Way of Okonomiyaki."

Keiei stared at her with a mixture of curiosity and frustration.  "Kuonji?  Not Saotome?  Are you not Ranma’s wife?”

Not for lack of trying, Ukyo mused silently though she answered with, “No.  I’m her friend and I’m filling in for her.”

“What happened to Ranma's wife?"

"She is unable to answer your challenge," Ukyo shrugged.  "Not that it’s any of your business.  I’m the one you should be concerned with, not her."

Keiei snorted derisively in response.  "Pathetic.  After I'm finished with you, I'm going after the coward by myself."

Ukyo glared at her.  "Don't be insulting my friend."  Especially when she’s deceased! she added to herself.  "Stupid question, but I suppose you can't be talked out of this?" she asked in softer tones, despite the menace on her face.

"Certainly.  If you get your weakling of a friend to hand my fiancé over, I would prefer to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

"Right."  Ukyo held out her spatula in a defensive position.  "Ready whenever you are!"

Even though she was looking at her opponent directly, Ukyo still had trouble following the other woman's motion.  With a grace that could have been called artistic, Keiei whipped out her katana and thrust in a single motion, impacting against the flat of her spatula half a moment later.  Had she been going for the first blow, the match would have been over right then and there.

Luck was favoring her at the moment, for the staggering caused by the unexpectedly fast blow also moved her out of the range of Keiei's subsequent rising slash…just barely.  Again the sharpened metal met the tip of her unusual weapon, but this time she used the impact to leap backwards, away from Keiei and towards better ground.  Six feet from the ground, the okonomiyaki chef threw three of her smaller spatulas, sending razor-sharp utensils at Keiei.

Upon landing, Ukyo wasted no time in rebounding and vaulting at Keiei with a sharp battle cry.  Her opponent was fast at parrying away the projectiles as well, but not fast enough to launch a successful counter-attack.  A giant spatula collided with a black sword, producing a loud metallic scream.

Ukyo locked her weapon with Keiei's, noting with satisfaction that she was slowly but surely pushing down the other woman.  The victor of this unofficial muscle contest did not, however, notice the foot zooming at her stomach until she was propelled up into the air in a manner similar to the tomoe-nage of judo.

Both of the combatants relied on their instincts at this point.  In a desperation maneuver Ukyo cried "Merikenko Bakudan!" and threw an object over her head.  Keiei slashed downwards, intending to strike both the projectile and her fallen opponent.  She instantly learned why that was not a good idea when dealing with a pack of flour.

Ukyo rolled to the side before standing up as quickly as she could, automatically holding her weapon in blocking position.  Thankfully it was unnecessary because by then Keiei had finished coughing away the powders in her lungs.  Hair and face pasted white, she glared at Ukyo with a scornful anger.  "You ARE a joke! You’re a clown, not a fighter!"  Her glare turned into a cruel smile.  "But I can be quite a comedian too. Let me show you some of my tricks!"

"Do your worst!" Ukyo yelled back, making no attempt to hide the fact the she was offended.  Any pity she earlier felt for the enemy who had a similar experience was long gone, replaced by a growing dislike for someone who resembled two of her least favorite women in the world: Shampoo and Kodachi.

"Tenka-gohatto Ken!"  Keiei charged like a gale, her body blurring in sheer speed.  Ukyo fought off a wave of panic and stood her ground.  Just one step before her reach, Keiei swung down her sword vertically, its tip failing to graze the tip of Ukyo's spatula.

Ukyo took a step forward.

Keiei moved her katana as if she was about to sheath it.

Ukyo raised her spatula over the right shoulder and prepared to swing.

Keiei thrust backwards, the blade missing the scabbard by mere centimeters.

Ukyo put all her weight into the horizontal attack.

Keiei caught the dull side of her weapon with her left hand, and pushed it forward like a reversed staff.

There was a sickening sound.

The giant spatula, painstakingly close to its target, fell from Ukyo's hands as her knees buckled.  She stared, dumbfounded, at the short knife extending from the tail end of Murasame's handle that sank in her ribs.  Looking up to Keiei's smug smile, she hoarsely whispered, "You bitch…"

Keiei smiled and pulled her sword back, retracting the short dagger on the end of her sword from Ukyo’s body.

The okinomiyaki maker crumpled to the ground, staring in fascination at the grass pricking at her forehead.  She heard Keiei say, "Why do you think I gave it a name like that?  And to think, you were fighting for the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryu?  Do you even know why it’s called ‘Anything Goes’?  Obviously not.”  Keiei huffed, and Ukyo could see the woman turn, walking away.  “If you aren't prepared to become the best one way or another, you shouldn't even try."

Then the grass in front of her faded, along with her vision.

Nabiki measured out the powders in teaspoons carefully and as precisely as she could.  While she couldn’t cook anything more advanced than frozen foods, mixing a baby formula was something any human being could do…barring her late sister.  She now wished she could take back the insult poorly disguised as a joke said just before Akama's birth; it was along the line of how Akane would have to get Ranma to fix her baby's nutrient once her milk ran out.

When one looks back at his or her life, one would inevitably find something he or she would wish to undo.  Few had as many of those regrettable memories as Tendo Nabiki did.  Her reputed lust for money began with her mother's death, when they could not afford the treatment to prolong her life.  That moment was when the seven year-old girl decided that money was the key in life and became determined to collect it as much as possible.  Through various means she fought her way into economics, more often than not disregarding other things for her purpose.  It was recently she learned that money could buy only so many things.  It could not buy time, friends, family, love, or life.

Right now, as she entered Akama's room, she was berating herself for the mistake not even two weeks ago…for the thousandth time.  If only I pressed Akane harder, Nabiki thought while fighting back the tears.  If only I got rid of those Chinese psychos earlier.  So many 'if-only's.  Was I wrong?  Am I powerless after all?  I was trying to help my family, and look at where I got.  How pathetic.

Nabiki shook herself back into the reality, noticing that Akama was rejecting the bottle.  "Come on baby, aren't you hungry?"  The youngest Saotome continued to avoid the feeding, crying harder.  "Drink up, Akama. Please."

It was no use.  No matter how much Nabiki pled with the infant, he continued to cry steadily harder.  With every decibel raised, Nabiki's self-worth dropped.  Not knowing what to do, she discarded the bottle and picked him up, trying to soothe him into sleep.

Walking out in the garden produced the desired effect; Akama was becoming calmer and showing signs of fatigue.  She sighed at the picture she imagined two of them must have made.  When a young woman is holding an infant in her arms, a casual bystander can make only one possible assumption.

"So you are that woman."

Slowly and holding down her surprise, Nabiki turned to see a woman in a sweater and jeans.  The katana hanging on her side gave away her identity like a name-tag to Nabiki's razor-sharp mind. "Fuitamu Keiei, I presume?"

The younger of the two brushed her hair back casually.  "You are correct."

Noting the faint trace of flour in her hair, Nabiki forced her words out, willing her voice not to shake.  "What have you done with Ukyo…?"

Keiei gave an amused sneer.  "She wasn't my target, so I let her live.  She should be crawling back here to report her failure in a few hours."  She lazily drew out her weapon, and spoke in a tone full of venom of hate, "You, on the other hand, aren't so lucky, soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Saotome."

An idea to tell off the intruder by correcting her misunderstanding was formed and rejected in Nabiki's head within the same second.  If the bloodthirsty woman didn't believe her, which was the most likely scenario, it would only serve to set her off.  If by some miracle Nabiki convinced her, she would simply start going after somebody else in the dojo.  "What do you hope to accomplish by killing me?" she finally said, putting more effort into tamping down her fear.  Nabiki wasn't trying to reason with this madwoman; she was trying to stall for time.  "Ranma would only hate you."

Keiei fired a laugh that was quieter than Kodachi's, but somehow even scarier.  "My love is the best among the best.  Such a man needs a worthy woman, and I can prove my worth by killing you."

"Like hell!" Nabiki shouted, desperately hiding her fear.  She was horribly aware that it was not successful.  "You would never be worthy so much as to lick the ground he walked on!"

Keiei smiled in a way that, under different circumstances, could have been called cute.  The naked blade in her hand dispelled that illusion instantly and thoroughly.  "Interesting words, coming from the mouth of a coward. But I did not come here for a talk."

A foot lashed out with a blinding speed, catching Nabiki on the chin.  She fell back several feet, Akama still clutched to her chest protectively, tasting the blood in her mouth.  Painfully she rose her head, seeing Keiei advancing on her, intentionally slowly and with fatal deliberation.

Fear exposed completely on her face, Nabiki kicked her brain into emergency mode, trying to see a way out of this situation with her head and body connected.  If her mind had been a computer, a big ERROR notice would have popped up on the screen.  There was no solution, none feasible or possible.  This woman beat Ukyo without a scratch, implying an unusually high level of skill.  Only Ryoga stood a chance against her, and how long it would take his sense of direction to come to her rescue was a question she didn't have an answer to, only that it wouldn't be quick enough.

Just as Nabiki would have screamed out in terror – genuine terror – for the first time in years, Akama beat her to it.  The future heir of Anything Goes School cried his soul out in a single, long shriek that had been heard throughout the neighborhood.  It was a sound that could, and did, pierce into one's heart.

It is said that at a moment just before death, one sees his or her memories like a cinema roll, that each frame plays on in the theatre of the mind, performed everlong for the individual nigh before life’s final curtain call.

Ranma's was looping around the period between Akama's birth and Akane's death.  Over and over again she was forced to witness the most important woman in her life march to her demise.  The worst part was that she was reliving through them, knowing what was going to occur, yet unable to do anything.  Those fateful scenes repeated endlessly, at a ludicrous speed, non-stop and out of control.  Like a nuclear reactor in meltdown, it was contaminating her mind with its poison.

The first reaction was a denial; a refusal to accept the tragedy that threatened to shred her heart apart.

Secondly came the realization; a forced acceptance of the undeniable reality, the sadistic touch of a nightmare.

Following next was a shock; a numbness of heart that steadily incapacitated every emotion known to mankind.

But the fourth stage of oblivion, a black hole swallowing her into a loving hold of nonexistence, the step scheduled to be concluded by a slow death, was interrupted.

Called out from her dark haven, Saotome Ranma's eyes saw, for the first time in days, the world of living.  The eternally cursed martial artist saw an injured Nabiki holding Akama.  She also saw a woman armed with a katana advancing on them.

To be or not to be?  Ranma, albeit with reluctance, chose the right answer.

Keiei's heart, although as black as her sword, still contained some conscience within it.  She hesitated a moment on a decision: should she slay the child along with his mother?  Though a baby of her enemy, he was still undoubtedly innocent, and Ranma's child as well.  Perhaps…just perhaps…it might cause him to hate her….

The next thing she knew was the surprise and pain of being knocked aside.  To her dismay, her weapon was wrenched out of her hands as well. She got back up just in time to see a red-haired woman – where had she seen her before? – throw it out of the residence, effectively disarming her.

Quivering with rage, Keiei took a good long sight of her new opponent.  A messy, petite woman with a strangely familiar scarlet hair done in a pigtail, wearing a fairly androgynous clothing of Chinese looks.  She was in a stance Keiei hadn't seen in years: the Saotome Musabetsu Kakutou!  Getting into her own Bushin stance, Keiei asked in a tightly controlled voice, "And who are YOU, to interrupt my mission of a lifetime?"

"Tendo Ranko."  The redhead's voice was strangely flat, almost mechanic.  "I don't know who you are, or what you’re trying to do, but if it involves trying to hurt my…cousin, you’ll have to get past me."

Keiei snarled, "As you wish, harridan!" and leaped in with a very fast roundhouse kick.  To her shock, "Ranko" moved even faster and sidestepped her attack, giving her back a rough shove and sending her tumbling on to the ground.  Keiei rolled out the momentum and stood up quickly, only to find her opponent standing still and allowing an obvious advantage to pass.  "What is the matter with you!? Too scared to attack me?"

"Listen, whoever you are," Ranma replied with a world-weary voice, "I'm REALLY not in the mood for a fight. Go away before my patience runs out."

"The only thing that will run out will be your blood!"

Keiei rushed in with her fastest combos, going all-out.  Ranma was forced to block and dodge to the best of her abilities.  She was losing ground, but she still did not attack more than necessary.  This served to anger the swordswoman even more.  As the fight dragged on, both of the combatants' abilities became apparent in comparison.  They were nearly as fast as each other, but Ranma definitely had the edge in skill and agility.  Getting desperate, Keiei pulled out her last trick.  "Take this! Taifuu Shuu!" Keiei whirled and twisted her body to an impressive degree before spinning herself in opposite direction and swinging her leg out, sending a waist-high hurricane at Ranma. She also reached inside her sleeve, throwing a concealed tanto.

Ranma dodged the first projectile with relative ease, only to see the second racing past her, heading straight to a wall.  More precisely, to a wall where Nabiki and Akama were leaning on.

Ranma cried out their names.

Keiei shouted in triumph.

Nabiki screamed and shut her eyes.

The knife struck.

Ranma cried out louder.

Nabiki opened her eyes, seeing the tanto sticking into the surface only an inch away from her neck. She continued to stare at the reflection in the blade, unable to believe that she was still alive.

Keiei cursed the powder from earlier that ruined her aim before seeing "Ranko" rushing at her.  She tried to counter by a spinning backhand, not noticing the energy around her rapidly collecting in a swirling pattern.  She did notice when Ranma ducked into her range and launched an uppercut.

She, however, did not realize that this was the Ryu-ou Ken, a variation of the Hiryu Shoutenha, an uppercut reinforced by the force of a tornado.  She also did not realize that she was being thrown out of the Tendo-Saotome Dojo, for she was already unconscious.

Nabiki finally succeeded in ripping her eyes away from the fascinating reflection and moving them to her presently female brother-in-law's back.  She handed Akama to Ryoga, who, along with rest of the family, had long since been attracted by the racket, and approached the silent redhead.  Licking her dry lips, she softly called, "Ranma?"

There was no response. Ranma did not even move from the position where she landed from the attack.

"Ranma? Talk to me…please."

A twitch in the shoulder was the reaction.

"Ranma?"

A sound escaped from the redhead; Nabiki realized that it was a sob.  Ranma turned around, no longer the near-invincible combat machine she was but a moment ago.  In its place stood a teary young woman, shaken to her very core.  "It… It hurts."

Ryoga blinked. "I didn't see you get hit…."

Nabiki glared at the eternally lost man briefly before enveloping the younger woman in a hug.  "I'm hurting too, Ranma. Everyone is."

Ranma leaned into her sister-in-law's arms, unable to hold the emotions within her.  The dam that held back her feelings was broken, and an apocalyptic flood was taking place.  "I, I just want to crawl in…. Forget about everything…."

Kasumi approached them from behind and put her arms around the crying girl as well, gently rubbing her back.  "Do you want to forget about Akane, too?"

Almost violently, Ranma turned her head around, shouting, "NO!"  Then in softer tones, she continued, "But I… I don't wanna forget about her. I'm afraid that I'm gonna forget her eventually if I live… I'm scared of that."

"You won't forget her, Ranma," Nabiki said.  "You can keep on loving her, forever, without killing yourself like this.  You can get over her death; we all need to…"

Ranma cried harder.  "I don't wanna get over her! She was the only one for me!  I'm, I'm never going to find anyone else.  I can never get over her…"

"Then you must live, my son," Nodoka intoned.  "For the sake of your deceased wife and your son – a child that needs his father more than ever now.  You must live for them, if for nothing else."

Ranma stared at her mother, who calmly looked back with wisdom in her eyes.  She then slowly disengaged herself from her position, and walked up to Ryoga.  She took the baby without a word, going inside of the house before Ryoga could speak.

The ominous silence was broken by Genma, of all people: "Well, at least he's back with us…"

Ryoga grimaced.  "It's still not good enough.  I looked at his eyes…they’re still the eyes of a dead man walking, or close enough.  He’ll never be the same guy I knew."  Again, Ryoga Hibiki was absolutely right. Certainly enough was happening for such a miracle to happen twice in row.

"For the better or worse, he will change," Nodoka sighed.  "I can only hope for the former."

"Ranma…."  Nabiki stared at the darkening sky, watching the stars appearing slowly.  "Why can't the poor guy have a break for a change?  If there's any god listening, give him someone else to love before it's too late…."

"Hey, a shooting star."  Ryoga pointed up at it, trying to bolster hopes at the traditional symbol of a wish understood by the kami.  "Maybe your wish will come true."

"I certainly hope so." Nabiki sighed tiredly, feeling thrice her age.  "But I won't bet on it. Let's go get Ukyo."

Keiei rubbed the bandage around her chin, not noticing the pain being caused by the action.  It was puny and unnoticeable when compared to the maddening storm in her heart.  She had lost.  Again.  Damn that Tendo woman!  Everything was going so well when she HAD to butt in.  Just as luck seemed to favor her, it turned around and spat on her.  Simply remembering her second failure sickened her at heart.  It dug out her long-suppressed inferiority complex from its grave, and she was afraid that every moment without confidence and determination was eating away at her sanity.

Yet she was a warrior, not a helpless crybaby.  She knew that everything she fought for – the very core of her being – would be forever out of reach the moment she stopped trying.  Her will was her life.

"Tendo Ranko….  Enjoy this victory while it lasts.  I will see to it that it will be short-lived, indeed."  Thus vowing, she set out on a new quest for power.  Somewhere over that horizon was her future, where she and her husband could protect their home, family and happiness; she was certain of it.

Glossary

Shuradou: "Way of the Damned."

Shippu-kurogen: "Gale Black Sword." A thrust attack as fast as a shadow. (Mr. Barba's invention.)

Merikenko Bakudan: "Flour Bomb." Just what it says; believe it or not, it was used at least twice in the original Ranma ½.

Tenka-gohatto Ken: literal translation: "Under the Sun Illegal Sword." Better phrased as "Universally Forbidden Sword." Stabbing with concealed knife on the handle.

Taifuu Shuu: "Tornado Kick." Simply a projectile attack with miniature tornado created from a spin kick. Knife-throw follow-up isn't a necessity.

Ryu-ou Ken: "Dragon King Punch." Hiryu Shoutenha-boosted uppercut.

Author's Notes

Here I had another chance to contribute to (spoil?) my favorite epic fanfic, A Duet of Pigtails.  But this time, I worked with Rob Barba, the person who has supported Ms. Thomas's series more than anybody else has.

What a big mistake.

This part was what I expanded upon what Mr. Barba started on (did you notice the sudden drop in quality in the middle of the story? ^_^;), and he worked on the following part, named Fugutaiten.  As you can see, my part is embarrassingly short in comparison to Mr. Barba's part.  I cannot help but feel that I made this side-story-series inferior to what it could have been.  That is not to say I did not make efforts to write this well (I revised it after completion, which I hate to do), but my skill is simply not up to his.

Well, enough with self-criticism.  Ms. Thomas has asked for an introductory tale for a new character/villainess, and so between our discussions Fuitamu Keiei (actually she had several other suggested names) ended up, in my opinion, as a combination of worst elements of Ranma, Shampoo, Ukyo, and Kodachi.  Normally I hate making up an original character for a large role, but I think she ended up interesting enough. 

I would like to thank Libby Thomas for creating A Duet of Pigtails and allowing me to be involved with it, Rob Barba for working with my inconsistent writing habit, and YOU for reading this. I hope you at least enjoyed it; right now, my ego is badly wounded. =_=;

Oh well, back to working on other fics….

Tell me what you think:

VGAP <vg_ap@hotmail.com>
VGAP's weird page at: <http://www.fortunecity.com/marina/thunder/181/index.html>

Editor's Notes

With the revision of Duet under way, this part stands as the first in a long line of works to come.  Hopefully, we’ll bring a greater depth to this beloved series (with over 70000 hits, there’s little doubt as to the fic’s popularity) and surprise you even in some of the reworked chapters.  If so, drop us a line and tell me me what you think.

-Rob

Next:
A Duet of Pigtails - The Age of the Black Blade, Part Two: Fugutaiten