This is my very first fanfic, so I would appreciate any C&C.  My
ego can even handle flames, so have at it. ^_^   I would like to
thank Chris Rijk for pre-reading the first part of this story and
offering his comments and suggestions, giving me the courage to
submit it for general scrutiny.  I would also like to thank all
the other fanfic authors out there who not only saved me from
going into severe Ranma withdrawal, but also prompted me to try
my own hand at Ranma fanfic.  This story is *your* fault! ^_^

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation
and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

Author's notes:
As far as time line goes, this story takes place a little before
Nodoka finds out about Ranma's curse in the manga. As far as
continuity with the Takahashi Ranmaverse, the story could be
considered an alternate time line/universe break-off from that
point, because I hadn't read the last few manga volumes when I
started this story.  I make no claim to be able to duplicate the
comedic and dramatic genius of Takahashi, but heck, I love Ranma
fanfic, so I thought I'd give my own a try.

This story is dedicated to my totally awesome kid brother (he's
19, he hates being called a kid, but I've got nearly 8 years on
him ^_^), Kurt, without whom I would still be living in abysmal
ignorance of Ranma 1/2, and anime and manga in general.

 
---------------------------
Hearts of Ice
Part 1: Blood Spell
by Krista Perry     
---------------------------

     Something was wrong.  

     Ranma could feel it; a twisting, nervous sensation in his
gut, a sixth sense almost.  It wasn't the same other-sense that
he used as a martial artist, the sense he'd developed that
forewarned him of a sneak-attack or an opponent's moves during
battle.  It was more of a...

     Drat!  He couldn't put his finger on it.

     He glanced at the sky as he ran, his feet not missing a beat
as they instinctively found the narrow length of fence piping
beneath him.  Not a cloud in sight.  It was bright, dewy morning
in Nerima.  The heady scent of cherry blossoms and sizzling
breakfasts filled the spring air.

     Ranma frowned, perplexed.  Well, at least he wouldn't have
to deal with rain today.  He glanced down at his fiancee as she
kept pace with him on the sidewalk in their routine sprint to
school.  His frown deepened.  Akane wasn't even looking at him,
and as long as he kept his mouth shut, he knew he was relatively
safe from getting the receiving end of a fist fueled by her
violent temper.  Still, he couldn't be too careful.  The
uncute tomboy was volatile and unpredictable on her best
days.

     Even if she did have a sudden urge to beat him to a pulp for
no reason, it was a common enough occurrence that it shouldn't
cause the sick sensation he had in the pit of his stomach.  The
only thing that came close to what he was feeling was usually
caused by ingesting Akane's cooking.

     Okay, perhaps he was over-reacting.  Akane's cooking made
him feel much worse.

     Smirking to himself, but wisely keeping silent, he hopped
over a segment of fencing that looked as if it had been smashed
repeatedly with an object that appeared to have the same shape as
his face.  The strange feeling surged in his gut, and he
heard an almost audible *click* in his head as he suddenly
comprehended was bothering him.

     He didn't realize he'd stopped running until Akane yelled at
him.  "Ranma, you dummy, what are you doing?  Do you want to make
us even more late than we are already?  Don't just stand there,
come on!"

     Ranma blinked.  "Yo, Akane, have you...  I mean, do you
know...  uh..."  Ranma thought furiously, but knew there was no
way to phrase his question without incurring Akane's wrath.  She
was already looking steamed as he continued to stand on the fence
stuttering.

     "What *is* it, Ranma?" Akane growled.  "I don't want to end
up holding buckets all day, so let's move it."

     Ranma sighed inwardly.  And here he'd gone the whole morning
without a pummeling.  "Hey, look, it's no big deal, I was just
gonna ask you if you'd seen Shampoo around lately."

     "WHAT?!!"  Akane's fists clenched convulsively at her sides,
and her right arm began to pull back to its launch-ready status.

     Ranma held up his hands, his third and fourth fingers
automatically curling into the "go-away-thou-inflicter-of-pain"
position.  "Hey, uh... chill, Akane.  It's not like I *want* to
see Shampoo or anything.  It's just that... Don't you think it's
odd that she hasn't slammed my face into the fence with her bike
the past few mornings?  I mean, haven't you noticed that she's
been kinda scarce lately?"  He pointed to his facial imprints in
the metal piping behind him.

     All of the speed, strength and agility Ranma possessed as a
martial artist had yet to save him from Akane's "Wrath-of-
Woman-Scorned-Fist-Attack."  There was a tremendous, yet familiar
*CRACK*, and Ranma saw stars as he flew head first into the
drainage ditch, landing with a *splash*.  The change rippled
through him instantly, and a female Ranma spluttered to the
surface rubbing her jaw.

     "Whaddja do *THAT* for?!!"

     Akane stood fuming.  "Of course I noticed, you stupid
pervert!  I thought you might be relieved that Shampoo hasn't
been around glomping on to you all this past week, but if you
miss her that much, why don't you go *FIND* her?!"  And without
waiting to hear his reply, Akane turned and sprinted off to
school again, leaving an angry, dripping Ranma-chan standing
alone in the drainage ditch.

     "Stupid girl," muttered Ranma as she grasped the chain link.
She swung herself up and flipped in a mid-air arc to land on the
top of the fence again.  "Stupid uncute tomboy.  Did I say I
wanted to find Shampoo?  I was just pointing out that she hasn't
been around lately.  Maybe she's gone back to China... Naw, my
luck's never *that* good..."  Ranma ran along the fence and
rubbed her jaw with one hand, feeling the rising bruise that was
probably already starting to purple.

       *It's just that I think Shampoo's up to something,* he
thought.  *It's not like her to up and disappear like this, or
leave without saying goodbye...*  The sick feeling in his stomach
was still there.  If anything, it intensified when he made the
connection with Shampoo's uncharacteristic absence.  *She's up to
something, I'm sure of it.*

     A few blocks ahead of Ranma, Akane ran, blinking back tears.
*That idiot!* she thought, gritting her teeth.  *Of course he 
would have to bring up Shampoo.  It's been so nice not having 
her around hanging on Ranma all of the time, but I guess
he just can't stand the thought of losing one of his *CUTE*
fiancees!  And then he has to go rub it in!  That womanizing
*JERK!**

     A tiny part of her mind whispered to her that she could be
jumping to conclusions, that she'd been feeling strange and edgy
all morning, but she turned on it fiercely.  She wasn't jumping
to conclusions!  All the facts pointed directly to one result,
and that was that Ranma was an insensitive pervert. Hmph!  What
did she care?  He and that Chinese bimbo Shampoo belonged
together!

     That tiny, whispering part of her mind shriveled and cried
at the thought.  But Akane ignored it.  And kept running.

--------------------

     As a matter of fact, Shampoo *was* in China.  But if Ranma
had known what she was doing there, he would have been far from
comforted.

     She stood trembling at the entrance of a huge gaping black
cave at the top of a jagged mountain, her body tensed in a ready
stance, her hands clutching her bonbouri.  Her body was covered
with purpling bruises and scrapes.  There was a bleeding gash on
her right cheek just below her eye.  Her mass of violet hair was
a tangled, matted mess.

     She hesitated on the edge of the cave.  It was so dark
inside that it seemed as though light could not penetrate the
entrance.  Shampoo reached into the bodice of her torn, soiled
blouse and pulled out a small, but ancient scroll that hung from
a gold chain around her neck.  Carefully, she unrolled it, her
eyes scanning up and down rapidly as she checked her
instructions.

       After returning the scroll to its place, she closed her
eyes to steady herself.  When her violet eyes opened again, they
were filled with determination.

       "*I have come, Ancient One,*" she called out in Mandarin
Chinese.  Her light soprano voice had an edge of steel, and it
echoed into the darkness of the cave.  "*I have defeated your
demon guardians.  I demand that you come and face me!*"

     Two gleaming blood-red eyes, each the size of a house,
blinked open in the blackness.  The dark scarlet glow from the
eyes illuminated the cave, revealing a hint of scales and teeth.
A low snarl caused the ground to tremble, and Shampoo was
showered with rocks and dirt from the cave ceiling.

     Shampoo paled and took a step back, thinking to flee the
cave.  Then her brow furrowed in determination, and she held her
ground.  She'd come too far to turn back now.  "*Face me,
dragon!*" she called out.  "*I require something of you.*"

     The rumbling snarl turned into a deep, throaty laugh.  "*Go
away, girl-child, before I eat you.*"

     "*I will not leave, and you will not eat me.  I have passed
your guardians.  I have found your lair.  Now you will give me
what I require.*"

     The huge eyes narrowed, and Shampoo gulped softly.  *Aiya,*
she thought.  *Have I come all this way and done all this work
only to be eaten?*

     "*What is it you require?*"  The movement of the dragon's
mouth revealed its rows of huge teeth gleaming in the red of the
eyelight, yet Shampoo sighed in relief.  According to the scroll,
the dragon's response meant that he would go along with the
ritual.  Whether this was because of a magical binding or dragon
whim, she didn't know.

     "*I require a small amount of your blood, Ancient One.*"

     "*You are willing to pay the price?*"

     "*I have fought for the privilege of paying the price,
Ancient One.*"

     "*Very well.  Extend your arm.*"

       Shampoo extended her left arm into the almost tangible
shadows of the cave.  The ground shook as the dragon moved it's
massive, coiled body towards her.  She stifled a shriek as a
single black claw, twice as tall as she was, came out of the
gloom, it's needle-sharp tip poised over her arm.  Before she
could withdraw, the claw came down, the point lancing through her
arm just below the elbow, and retracting just as quickly.

     The pain was incredible, worse than she imagined.  Blackness
surged on the edges of her vision, but she forced herself to
remain conscious.  She could feel her blood running down her arm,
past her hand, and trickling off her fingers in a steady stream.
She could hear her heart pounding, growing louder in her ears.
Looking down, she saw that her blood was being caught in a
crystal basin.  The basin was filling rapidly.

     "*Enough,*" said the dragon.  "*That will do.*"  Shampoo
looked at her arm and saw that the bleeding had stopped.  She
raised her right hand to her forehead to hold back a wave of
dizziness.

     "*You have paid the price.  Now take your reward, sorceress,
and go.*"  A whirlwind appeared out of nowhere, sweeping around
Shampoo.  She never felt her feet leave the ground, but when the
wind dispersed she found herself standing at the bottom of the
mountain facing the valley.  In her hand, she clutched a small
crystal vial of black liquid.

     Dragon blood.

     She looked at it and smiled, the excitement in her eyes a
contrast to her battle-weary, blood-drained body.  "Now, Ranma.
Now you see I love you more than Akane love you.  Soon Akane gone
for good, and you come to me.  Then we married forever."

     Shampoo collapsed to the ground in an exhausted, unconscious
heap.

--------------------

     Akane and Ranma stood sullenly in the school hall, each
holding a pail of water, each studiously ignoring the other.

     They sneezed simultaneously.

     Ranma sniffed and rubbed his nose.  "Gah.  Somebody must be
talking about us."

     Akane snorted.  "I can't imagine why."

     "And what is *that* supposed to mean?"

     She glared at him.  "I was being sarcastic, you dope.  It's
probably the teachers talking about how we were late yet once
again.  We'll be lucky if Hinako-sensei doesn't show up with her
5 yen piece in a few minutes."  Akane smiled to herself, seeing
Ranma grimace and roll his eyes at the prospect of facing the
hyper-active Hinako-sensei and her plethora of ki-draining
circular objects, but she covered it with a mask of seriousness
when Ranma turned to her.

     "You don't think she'd try *that,* do you?  Just for being
late?  I mean, we're already holding these stupid buckets of
water."

     "Oh, I don't know," Akane responded casually.  "I've heard
she's been cracking down on even the most minor offenses, like
chewing gum in class, or talking out of turn.  I'm sure showing
up to school five minutes late, or ten minutes late in your
case--"

     "Hey, I had to find some hot water, no thanks to you--"

     "-- will be more than enough to bring Hinako-sensei down on
us both.  I wonder what Daddy will do when he sees me all drained
of ki and finds out that it was all your fault."

     Ranma paled, knowing from experience how Soun Tendo reacted
to any threat to his beloved daughters.  The Demon-head Ki attack
was not something to be dismissed lightly.

       *Ah, man, that's all I need.*  Ranma stared at his feet
glumly and twisted the pail in his hand making the water surge
and swirl in the bucket.  He immediately stopped, letting the
water settle.  His luck with water had never been good since the
curse.  Water was almost like a sentient thing around him,
actively seeking him out to turn him female at the most
inconvenient moments and make his life miserable.  He certainly
didn't need to have an "accident" with his pail in the middle of
the school hall right now.  And on top of everything else that
had gone wrong today, he still couldn't shake the feeling that
something really bad was going to happen.  Soon.  Something a
heck of a lot worse than getting drained by Hinako-sensei or
facing Tendo-san's demon head.  Ranma shook his head, trying to
clear it.  *Man, why can't I shake this feeling?  It's creeping
me out!*

     Akane watched Ranma from the corner of her eye, her brows
creasing into a confused frown that didn't quite reach her mouth.
*That's odd,* she thought.  He wasn't responding to her jibes the
way he normally did.  She liked seeing the all-mighty too-macho
Ranma get flustered and panicky, and normally any mention of her
father's protectiveness was enough to send him into an indignant,
stuttering rage.  Instead, he was staring at the floor with a
strange, almost sad look in his eyes.

     Her confusion warmed into concern.  Was he sick?  No, Ranma
never got sick, except for that one time Happosai gave him his
cold, but that was just one time.  And besides, aside from the
look on his face, he appeared perfectly healthy.  Then what was
wrong?  He'd been acting weird all day.  Breakfast at the Tendo
household that morning had even passed in relative peace, aside
from the usual wolfing noises Ranma and Genma made while scarfing
down their food.  He was strangely subdued, and Akane was
startled to realize that, aside from the incident on the fence,
he hadn't flung any of his usual insults at her.  Could it be
that he didn't want to fight with her anymore?  No, that
definitely wasn't it.  Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought up
Shampoo, the jerk.

     Something was obviously troubling him, though.  Perhaps he
felt bad about his mom.  Nodoka had come by earlier in the week,
and Ranma and Genma had been forced to do their Ranko/Mr. Panda
routine once again.  Ranma always tried to act happy when his
mother was around, but she knew how desperately he wanted to meet
her, be with her -- as a man.  As a son.  Akane watched him when
he thought no one was looking, and she saw the almost
imperceptible slump of his shoulders, the quiver in his smile,
and the pain that glimmered in his eyes.

     When she saw him like that, it made her feel like crying,
she felt so bad for him.  She missed her own mother; the grief of
losing her when she was a child still haunted her at times, so
she understood a little of what Ranma was feeling.  It must be
torture for Ranma to have his mother *right there,* alive and
loving and longing for her only child, and not even be able to
tell her who he was.  His curse condemned him to be a stranger to
her; to be "Ranko Tendo, adopted niece" rather than Ranma
Saotome, son.

     Maybe if he talked about it, he might feel better and start
acting like his old self.  Akane didn't like seeing him like
this.  Not that his old self was any better, but at least she
knew how to deal with him then.

     She flushed and lowered her head when she realized a soft
smile was creeping across her face.  She swallowed.  On the other
hand, if she showed how concerned she was for him, he might get
some funny ideas about her *liking* him, or something equally
stupid.  As if she could ever lo... like a stupid perverted jerk
like him.

     "Ranma?"  She intentionally put an edge in her voice, not
wanting to sound too concerned.  "What's wrong with you?"

     He didn't lift his eyes.  "Nothin'."  He had toyed
momentarily with the idea of trying to explain what was bothering
him, but then he heard the anger in Akane's voice, and knew that
any explanation he tried to give would probably earn him a quick
sex change and a new set of bruises, courtesy her bucket of
water.  Besides, it didn't even make sense to him, so there was
no way she would understand.  She didn't understand things even
when the explanation should have been perfectly obvious.  He
thought of Ryoga/P-Chan, one of the better examples of Akane's
blindness, and sighed.  "At least nothing *you'd* listen to," he
finished.

     Oops.  Akane's battle aura flickered on the edges of his
vision.  Somehow he'd done it again, and he wasn't even sure what
he'd said this time to make her angry, especially when he'd been
trying so hard to avoid her temper.  He turned quickly, jumping
into the air with his pail as the water flew right where he'd
been standing, sloshing to the floor as Ranma flipped and landed
on dry tile.  He turned to yell at Akane, but her pail was
already there, slamming against the side of his head, upsetting
his pail and drenching him as he crashed head first into the
floor.

     "Ranma, you *idiot!*"

     Ranma recovered immediately and flipped up to her feet, just
barely missing another pail attack.  She jumped back and stood
dripping, risking a glance at Akane only when she knew she was
out of range.

     "Jeeze, Akane, whaddja do *that* for?" Ranma shouted, angry
and baffled at the unprovoked attack.  "I didn't do nothin', you
psycho macho chick!"

     Akane stood in a battle stance, holding her empty pail.  Her
teeth were clenched and her brow was furrowed in fury.  Then,
without warning, her battle-aura faded and her eyes shimmered
with unshed tears.

     Ranma's mouth opened, and she leaned away from Akane in
panic.  "What the... What's wrong?"  Ranma's voice rose in pitch. 
"You're not gonna cry, are you?  Jeeze, whaddi *do?*"

     Akane threw her empty pail to the floor with a clang.
"Ranma, you *jerk,* it figures that you're too stupid to know
what an insensitive creep you are!  And to think I was *worried*
about you!"  With that, Akane turned and, for the second time
that day, she fled, leaving a soaked onna-Ranma standing in the
flooded school hallway staring after her, his mouth still hanging
open in surprise.

     *She was... worried?  About me?*

     Around the corner, Akane leaned against the wall, her chest
heaving with silent sobs.  She felt the tears brim and slide down
her cheeks, and put her face in her hands.  *Why did I *do*
that?* she thought miserably.  *It's not like he really insulted
me or anything.  He just said I wouldn't listen, and then I go
and prove his point right there!  What's wrong with me today?*

     She wiped at her face and tried to get herself under
control.  *I've felt edgy all morning.  Maybe I've just got a bad
case of nerves.*  She sighed, thinking regretfully of Ranma. 
*Well,* she thought, trying unsuccessfully to ease her
conscience, *he probably had it coming for *something.**  She
headed for the restroom to clean herself up.

--------------------

     Shampoo felt the touch of a rough, small hand on her
forehead, and her eyes fluttered open to see Cologne standing
over her.  She moaned softly, and looked around, recognizing the
shelter her great-grandmother had built for their stay in China.
Above her, dust motes danced in the orange light streaming from
the setting sun through the window of the tiny thatched hut.

      "*Well, great-grandchild,*" the crone whispered softly.
"*It appears you have succeeded.  I must admit, I had my doubts
that you would return from the mountain.  You are one of very few
who have managed to reach the Ancient One.*"

     "Shampoo do anything for Ranma," Shampoo replied in her
broken Japanese.  She could speak Mandarin, or even fluent
Japanese if she wanted to.  After all, she'd lived in Japan for
almost a whole year now.  

     However... she found that people, including her great-
grandmother, tended to unconsciously underestimate her when
she played dumb, and Shampoo had a policy of exploiting every
advantage she could get.  It was almost funny.  Cologne now spoke
Japanese more than Mandarin in an effort to help her become more
fluent.  Shampoo knew it was a constant, mild irritation to her
great-grandmother that she never seemed to make any progress. 
But Cologne seemed more concerned about molding her into a great
warrior than into a great intellect, and Shampoo was content to
let her great-grandmother and the others believe she wasn't all
that smart.  It gave her an unexpected edge.

     She smiled weakly as she struggled to a sitting position,
then winced as the effects of her injuries made themselves known. 
She blinked wearily and tried to stand up, but was restrained by
Cologne's hand.

     "Not just yet, child.  Drink this first.  It will make you
feel better."  Cologne handed Shampoo a steaming cup, which she
took and brought to her lips with unsteady hands.  The concoction
was bitter -- most of great-grandmother's potions were -- but she
didn't hesitate, and swallowed it down obediently.  She smiled as
she immediately felt her old strength flooding through her limbs.

     "Thank you, great-grandmother."  Her eyes began scanning the
hut, searching for...

     "Here it is, child," said Cologne, pressing the crystal vial
into her hands.  "I kept it safe for you while you recovered."

     Shampoo looked at the vial.  The crystal was cool against
the palms of her hands.  "You no take any while I sleep?" she
asked.  Dragon blood was possessed of a most powerful magic, but
she needed all of it, every last drop, for what she had planned
for Ranma.

     Cologne's ancient wrinkled face soured into an angry scowl. 
"What do you take me for, child?  I still question the wisdom of
you dabbling with such dark power.  Anything bought with a
blood-price is not only dangerous, but often leads to grief."

     Shampoo looked at the old woman, askance.  "What you mean? 
This whole thing your idea in first place.  You say this work for
sure."

     "Dragon blood ensures the success of any spell," Cologne
said levelly.

     "Good!  Nothing *else* work.  We try everything, and still
Ranma no leave violent pervert-girl, Akane."

     Cologne glared at her great-granddaughter.  "That's the
point exactly, Shampoo.  Just think.  Nearly a year ago, you gave
Akane the Kiss of Death.  If you had followed through on that,
instead of letting compassion soften your warrior's heart, we
would not be here now, reduced to meddling with dark magics to
snare son-in-law."

     Shampoo frowned.  "Is not that simple," she said.  And it
wasn't.  It was true that she had given Akane the Kiss of Death
when she first arrived in Japan, since she stood in the way of
her rightful claim to Ranma.  But when it came down to the
death-duel on the grounds of Furinkan High School, she...
couldn't do it.  She couldn't kill Akane.  Instead, she had used
the Xi Fa Xiang Gao Shiatsu technique to erase all memory of
Ranma from Akane's mind.  It didn't last long, though.  Akane had
recovered without even receiving the proper cure, her
subconscious feelings for Ranma restoring her memory completely.

     It was Shampoo's second failure.  First, not being able to
take Ranma as her husband as he was by law, and then letting
Akane live.  Dishonored twice over.

     Yet... if she had a chance to do it over, she wouldn't have
done it differently.  Shampoo had never killed anyone before. 
She knew she had it in her to do it, but deep inside her soul, in
a place she didn't like to admit existed, she didn't want to. 
For an Amazon, these pangs of... mercy..? were an unforgivable
weakness.

    "No can kill Akane," she said, her voice heavy with the
knowledge.  "No can kill then, no can kill now.  You know this,
great-grandmother.  I kill Akane, Ranma get angry and no spell
strong enough to bind Ranma to me.  He stubborn man, he fight it
to his death."

     Cologne's scowl softened, and she chuckled mildly.  "True
enough.  Son-in-law is rather... strong-willed, to say the
least."

     Shampoo smiled wickedly.  "Is part what make him strong
man," she said, her eyes gleaming.  Then her smile faded into a
worried frown.  "This spell... it no make Ranma slave, yes? 
Shampoo want Ranma with free mind."  Shampoo wanted Ranma to look
at her the way... the way he looked at Akane all those times when
she was in danger, or when he thought no one was watching him
watch her.  That kind of look didn't come from an enslaved mind,
no matter how devout the slave might be.  She had done many
things to force Ranma to take her in his arms, whether by
blackmail, bribery, hypnotic mushrooms or other strange means. 
But although those moments provided some satisfaction -- most of
it from seeing Akane's jealousy -- she always felt the pain deep
inside her that yearned for Ranma to love her of his own free
will.

     "The parameters of the spell are very clear," Cologne
answered, looking at the tiny, ancient scroll that lay on a small
makeshift serving table.  "No mind control is involved, unless
you desire it.  The spell is designed to alter circumstance in
favor of the caster according to the instructions given.  You
must think on this carefully before you begin, or the spell could
have disastrous effects."

     Shampoo nodded, pleased with Cologne's affirmation of her
own understanding of the spell, and caressed the vial of dragon
blood in her hands.  "No worry, great-grandmother.  Shampoo know
exactly what instruction to give."

     Cologne nodded thoughtfully, but her expression was grave. 
"Then I suppose there is nothing to keep us from continuing. 
However..."

     Shampoo blinked in surprise.  Her great-grandmother's face
was filled with something akin to... apprehension?

     What on earth was this?  Was her great-grandmother, the
fearless Amazon matriarch, having second thoughts?  

     "However?" she prompted.

     "Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, great-granddaughter?" Cologne asked.  The old woman's ancient gaze
seemed to burn right into Shampoo's soul.  "You have trifled with
Son-in-law for a year now, trying to win his heart.  Until this
moment, you have not caused him, or those around him, any lasting
harm.  If you cast this blood spell, all of that will change. 
Permanent harm will be done, and there will be no going back -
- for *either* of us.  Casting the blood spell will commit us
irrevocably from our course.  We both will be utterly bound by
Amazon law and honor.  There will be no mercy, no fun and games,
and no harmless, friendly rivalries afterwards.  The blood spell
is the point of no return."

     Shampoo met Cologne's gaze steadily.  "You tell me this
before.  I know this."

     "So, I ask you one final time.  Are you *absolutely certain*
that you want to cast the blood spell?"

     There wasn't even a moment's hesitation.  "I certain, great-grandmother."

     Cologne sighed heavily, and in one brief moment, so fleeting
that Shampoo wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, the old Amazon
seemed incredibly weary.  But then she straightened, and a grim
smile quirked the edges of her wrinkled lips.  With one smooth
movement, she used her staff to snag the scroll off the table by
the gold chain, and dangled it in front of Shampoo's face. 

     "Shall we begin, then?"

--------------------

     Ranma stood in front of the Nekohanten, feeling baffled. 
The ramen cafe was closed.  Shampoo really was gone, and she'd
left without a word.  There was no sign of the old ghoul
either... No, wait.  He could see movement in the darkness behind
the windows.  Someone was in there.  He pressed his face against
the glass and shielded his eyes with his hands to block out the
glare from the setting sun.

     It was only Mousse.  Ranma watched as the tall myopic
Chinese boy walked through the swinging doors that led to the
kitchen, only to emerge a moment later with a broom and dust pan
and begin methodically sweeping the floor.  Ranma squinted,
trying to get a better look.  There was something about Mousse,
about the way he was sweeping the floor.  Then he caught a
glimpse of his face, and Ranma suddenly knew what was wrong with
him.

     Mousse was completely, totally bummed.  His whole posture
and attitude practically screamed depression.

     Yup.  Shampoo was gone, all right.  She and the old ghoul
had taken off somewhere and left Mousse behind.

     Ranma pounded on the window.  "Hey, Mousse!"  Mousse looked
up, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of his melancholy.
Ranma kept pounding.  "Hey, let me in, I wanna ask you
something."

     Mousse's annoyance turned to anger.  "Ranma?  Is that you?
How dare you come here looking for my darling Shampoo!"  He
stormed towards the door, and, although Ranma couldn't see it, he
knew that the arsenal Mousse carried up the voluminous sleeves of
his Chinese robe was getting primed for launch.

     He groaned.  "Aw man, I'm *not* looking for Shampoo!  I just
wanted to ask you where..."  Ranma trailed off, as he realized
that was *exactly* what he wanted to ask Mousse.  But not for the
reasons that he assumed.  "Aw, man..." he muttered, as Mousse
threw open the door and glared at him through lenses that put
Coke bottles to shame.

     "Saotome, prepare to die!"

     Ranma sighed.  *Why is nothing ever easy?  Oh well.  I gotta
remember to keep him conscious, or he can't answer my questions.*

     The battle took longer than usual, but only because Ranma's
heart really wasn't in it.  He dodged mostly, allowing Mousse to
wear himself out and inflict most of the usual property damage
with his missing blows, which only served to infuriate him even
more.

     After twenty minutes of fighting, or rather of Mousse
fighting and Ranma dodging, the Chinese boy stood panting.  He
glared at Ranma, who, he noticed to his chagrin and fury, was
barely winded.  "You dishonorable cur!  How dare you take this
battle so lightly?"  He threw up his sleeves.

     "Come on, Mousse," Ranma said, groaning in exasperation and
ducking a bladed chain that flew at his head.  "I just wanna know
where Sha... where the old ghoul went."

     Ranma thought he'd covered for himself rather well, but
Mousse was blind, not deaf, and he caught the verbal slip.
"Arrghhhh!  It's not enough that you have three other fiancees,
you must come searching for my one true love as well?!" he
shouted.  "You'll pay for your insolence, you enemy of women!"  A
barrage of chains, knives, wires, firecrackers, kitchen utensils,
and other miscellaneous items flew from the dimensionally
deceiving confines of Mousse's sleeves.

     Ranma slipped past them with practiced ease.  "Hey, I'm not
engaged to no one, duck-boy!" he denied, also with practiced
ease.  "None of this mess was my idea!"  He wove through the
attack and landed a fierce punch to the jaw, sending Mousse
flying into the front of the Nekohanten, cracking plaster and
concrete.  Mousse slumped to the ground, dazed, his arsenal
falling limp from his sleeves, his glasses askew on his face.
Ranma stood at a ready stance, waiting for the Chinese boy to get
up and resume the battle.

     Instead, to his amazement, Mousse straightened his glasses
and gave him a piercing look.  "What do you mean, you're not
engaged to...  Does this mean you're really not here to claim
Shampoo?"

     Ranma staggered as if he'd been hit, he was so
flabbergasted.  None of his rivals had ever listened to his
protests of innocence before.  "Of course not!" he yelled, then
softened his tone, hoping not to stir Mousse's anger again.  "I
just had this weird feeling all day that something bad was gonna
happen, that's all, and I think Shampoo might have something to
do with it."

     Mousse stood up and dusted himself off.  His aggressive
stance had evaporated, but he still eyed Ranma with open
suspicion.  "What makes you say that?"

     Ranma shrugged.  "I dunno, just a feeling."

     "Well that's strange, because I've had the same feeling
too."

     Ranma's jaw sagged.  "Really?"  As that piece of information
registered, he slowly closed his mouth and smiled.  "Boy, that's
a relief!  I thought I must be going nuts or something."

     Mousse scowled.  "You *are* nuts, Saotome," he said.  "But
not about this.  Know now that the only reason you're still
standing--"  Ranma smirked openly, but Mousse ignored him.  "--is
because I think we have a common concern.  When Shampoo and
Cologne left, they absolutely refused to let me go with them."

       "Hmph.  That's never stopped you before.  Why didn't you
just follow them?"

     "That's none of your concern," Mousse snapped.  He certainly
wasn't going to tell Ranma the details of how he ecstatically and
innocently ate the drugged ramen Shampoo had prepared just for
him.  He was out cold for a whole day.  "The point is, I have no
idea where they went, but they were up to something."  He flushed
with a combination of embarrassment and anger.  "Actually, when
you pounded on the window, I thought Shampoo'd finally managed to
get that passion spice to work on you."

     It was Ranma's turn to scowl.  "No way, man.  I would rather
eat Akane's cooking...  uh, well... er, maybe not, but I would
rather eat anything else than trust something Shampoo tried to
feed me."  He clapped a hand on Mousse's shoulder.  "Believe me,
Mousse, if I had my way, Shampoo would be all yours."

     Mousse pushed Ranma's hand from his shoulder, and turned
away so that his rival wouldn't see the look on his face.  He
suppressed the urge to attack Saotome with everything he had,
knowing that Ranma would just dodge and probably knock him into
the wall again.  Deep down, he knew that Ranma wasn't trying to
be cruel.  How could Ranma possibly know how much it hurt to be
spurned by the woman he loved, while she pined after another man,
a man who never even gave her a second thought?  Ranma didn't
even know the *meaning* of the word love.  It was so infuriating,
the way the girls flocked around him, when he hadn't done a thing
to deserve it.  He simply *existed.*  Even Akane, who vehemently
denied any feelings for her fiance, was obviously in love with
him.

     He, on the other hand, loved Shampoo with every fiber of his
being.  And yet she continually spurned him, throwing herself at
a reluctant Ranma every chance she got because of some stupid
Amazon marriage law.

       On top of that, now there was the unsettled feeling he
shared with Ranma, and the fear that Shampoo was somehow
connected with it all.

     "So, uh, what are we gonna do about it?" asked Ranma,
breaking the uncomfortable silence.  He was more bothered than he
cared to admit, knowing that Shampoo and Cologne snuck off
somewhere without letting anyone know what they were up to.

     As if on cue, the postman walked by.  "Hello, Mousse," he
said, handing the boy a stack of mail.  "How's business?"

     "Oh, well, we're closed at the moment.  Shampoo and Cologne
are... out of town, and I can't run the place by myself."

     "Ah."  The postman smiled as he turned to go.  "That
explains the postcard then.  See you later."

     "Postcard?" exclaimed Mousse and Ranma simultaneously as the
postman walked off.  They looked at the stack of mail.  Mousse
began flipping through it, ignoring the bills and catalogues for
food and restaurant supplies.  "Aha!"  He pulled out a postcard
that had a picture of a Chinese mountain landscape.

     Ranma leaned over his shoulder, and frowned when he saw that
it was written in Chinese.  "What does it say?"

     "It's addressed to me!"  Mousse was so excited, he was
nearly jumping up and down.  "And it's from my darling Shampoo! 
They're in China!"

     "China?  What are they doing there?  What does it say?"

     "'Dear Mousse,'" he translated, "'Sorry about the sleeping
powder in the ramen--'"

     "Sleeping powder, eh?" Ranma interrupted, grinning.

     "Shut up, Saotome," growled Mousse, before continuing.

     "'Great-grandmother and I are on a training mission in
China, where she is teaching me some special Amazon techniques as
part of my training to become tribe matriarch.  These techniques
are for women only, so we couldn't have you following us.  We
will be back on Tuesday, so have the restaurant ready to open by
then.'"  Mousse stopped reading.

     "That's it?" asked Ranma.

     "Yes, of course," said Mousse, looking at the bottom of the
card where Shampoo wrote 'Give my love to Ranma.'  He hoped the
sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for Saotome to
hear.

     Ranma looked puzzled.  "Well, if they're just on a training
mission, I guess we're worrying about nothing, eh?  I mean, how
much trouble can they cause us in China?"

     Mousse sighed.  "Not much.  It's what they bring back from
China that we should worry about."

     "Oh."  Ranma grimaced.  Most of the strange ingredients
Cologne used in her mystical concoctions came from China.  "Well,
they're not going to be back for another four days, so I guess we
don't have to worry about it until then."

     Mousse nodded numbly.  "I guess.  Look, Ranma, I've got to
get back to work.  I have to get the restaurant ready to open by
next Tuesday."  With that, he walked back into the Nekohanten and
closed the door behind him, leaving Ranma on the outside staring
at the door.

     Ranma looked at the door, surprised at Mousse's sudden
departure.  The thought of Akane running from him twice that same
day came to his mind, and he sighed.  *Why do I get the feeling
that everyone is running away from me?* he thought sadly.

--------------------

     Shampoo stood in the center of the hut, the scroll in one
hand, the vial of dragon blood in the other.  Cologne watched in
silence from a dark corner as Shampoo unstopped the vial and
began to pour the black fluid on the ground, forming a perfectly
symmetrical circle around her.  If the spell was to work, it had
to be followed to exactness.  Shampoo had paid the blood-price.
She was the only one who could use the Ancient One's gift.  Were
it not so, Cologne might have been tempted to keep a portion of
the dragon blood for herself because of the incredible magic it
possessed, guaranteeing the success of any spell.

     The dragon blood trickled in an even stream from the vial to
the ground, resting lightly on the surface, gleaming blackly in
the candlelight, forming an exact circle around Shampoo.  As the
last few drops fell from the mouth of the vial, completing the
circle, the blood flared to life, surrounding the girl in a cone
of magical dark red aura.

     Shampoo winced in fear, and hesitated.  *No!* thought
Cologne, not daring to speak aloud.  *Concentrate, girl!  Read
the scroll!*

     Shampoo steadied herself and looked at the scroll.  In a
strong voice, she began chanting in an ancient Chinese dialect.

     Cologne wilted with relief.  That was a close one.

     As the words rolled off her tongue, Shampoo fixed firmly in
her mind her desires for the spell.  The time was fast
approaching, the aura building in strength, swirling around her
with increasing fury.  The roar was deafening.  She could see
great-grandmother through the raging dark aura, looking at her
with wide eyes.

     Now!  Shampoo threw her head back and called out her desire,
the noise from the ferocious magic that surrounded her drowning
out the sound of her voice.

     The pillar of red aura lit with a blinding flash, shot
through the roof of the tiny hut  leaving a clean, smoldering
hole, and was gone into the night sky.

     Shampoo blinked in the sudden darkness.  She realized she
was shaking.  "I...  I do it?"  she asked.

     Cologne looked at her in amazement.  She nodded.

     Shampoo smiled.  "Ranma..." she whispered.  And collapsed to
the floor in a boneless heap.

--------------------

End of Part One