The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation
and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.
---------------------------------------------
Hearts of Ice
Part 12: Revenge is a Dish Best Served...
by Krista Perry
---------------------------------------------


     Ryoga looked up at the street sign just outside the market
with a complete lack of recognition, and felt his cheek twitch,
just under his left eye.

     He'd done it again.

     He looked down at the bag of groceries he carried in his
arms, his expression twisting in anxiety.  Kasumi-san was
expecting him to return with the food so she could make dinner. 
But it was almost dinner time, and he couldn't find his way back
to the Tendo dojo.  

     Heck, it had taken him all morning and most of the afternoon
just to find the market.

     Well, he found *a* market...

     He turned in a full 360 degree circle, his eyes scanning in
all directions, and failed to recognize a single thing.  Except
the familiar, bemused expressions on the faces of various
pedestrians who couldn't help but stare at him, he was so
obviously lost and confused...

     Ryoga clenched his teeth as his frustration and depression
grew.  His fingers tightened convulsively on the fragile paper
bag he carried, threatening to rend it and spill it's contents
across the sidewalk.  

     *I'm never going to find my way back!* he realized with
growing panic. *And after Kasumi-san entrusted me with such a
simple thing as picking up a few groceries!  Now the Tendo family
will have to go without dinner, all because of my lousy sense of
direction!!*

     Ryoga's self-esteem shriveled under the piercing, familiar
humiliation.  It was all right for him to get lost every now and
then, but not when people were depending on him.  Ryoga clenched
his eyes shut, trying to block out the anxiety that was steadily
rising in him.  But it was no use.

     And somewhere, deep in the core of his soul, a familiar,
habitual curse broke loose from the smothered depths and rose to
the surface of his thoughts with a build-up of rage so great that
he couldn't contain it and it burst forth from his throat with a
cry--

     "*Damn you, Ranma!  This is all your fault!!*"

     People stared and hastily backed away, giving Ryoga a wide
radius.  He didn't notice. Because, abruptly, his rage faded.  Or
rather, it was overwhelmed by a new feeling; a feeling of
inexplicable perplexity.  Ryoga froze and blinked in confusion.

     He felt... ashamed.  And sheepish.  And he wasn't even sure
why.  After all, it was the most natural thing to blame Ranma for
his misery, since he was the cause of most of it...

     Still...

     A puzzled frown slowly made its way across Ryoga's face. 
The past few days, ever since the blood spell had been cast on
Ranma, he had found himself... thinking differently.  As if his
perspective had been altered.  Could watching Ranma's suffering
really have affected him so deeply...?

     Like now.  Instead of his rage towards Ranma building until
he was practically incoherent with fury and filled with the
desire to pound his rival's head in...

     ...he found himself thinking that Ranma *couldn't* be
responsible for his predicament.  He hadn't even seen him since
he left for school with Nabiki that morning.  And he could hardly
blame Ranma for his lousy sense of direction.  He had been
getting lost long before he met Ranma...

     Ryoga looked down at the groceries in his arms, a strange
feeling settling into his gut.  It was too weird.  Just over a
week ago, he would have had a hard time admitting that.  Even to
himself.

     But... ever since he saw the blood spell seep into Ranma,
and then watched helplessly as Ranma's spell-induced psychosis
caused him to waste away from despair over an imaginary girl...
something had changed inside him.  Something subtle and hard to
pin down.  Ryoga found himself actually feeling anxiety on
Ranma's behalf.  He found himself actually *worrying* about
Ranma.  He actually hated to watch Ranma suffer from the effects
of the blood spell that seemed intent on destroying his sanity... 

     That, in itself, was not unusual.  The fact that he
*admitted* to himself that he was worried about Ranma, was.

     And, in spite of everything Ranma had ever done to torment
and humiliate him, he found he couldn't quite bring himself to be
quite as... angry at his... friend...

     His friend?

     Ryoga shook his head in amazement.  It was as if, in the
days following the blood spell, the fog of anger that had clouded
his mind for so long had gradually lifted.  He felt as if he was
thinking clearly for the first time in years.

     Well, not clearly enough to find his way around...

     Still, everything that had ever kindled his fury towards
Ranma didn't seem nearly as earth-shattering and universe-rending
as it had just a few days ago.  Okay, so Ranma *was*
responsible... indirectly...  for his curse.  He would never have
fallen into that cursed spring if Ranma hadn't knocked him off
the cliff over Jusenkyo.

     But then, Ranma wouldn't have knocked him off the cliff if
he hadn't been so stubborn and stupid to follow Ranma all the way
to China just to finish that stupid bread feud...

     Ryoga's frown deepened at this new train of thought.

     He knew Ranma didn't do it intentionally.  It seemed Ranma
*never* caused problems intentionally.  He was just a trouble
magnet.

     The frown softened; even turned up at one corner, changing
to the wry smile that he wore often; the smile that spoke of
knowing the harsh ironies of life on a personal basis.  It seemed
that he and Ranma were both cursed, in more ways than just the
Jusenkyo curses they had in common:  He had a lousy sense of
direction, and Ranma... well, Ranma attracted major disasters.

     He understood that now; understood that Ranma was as often
the hapless victim of quirky fate as he was, if not more so.  He
had come to understand this in the past few days in a way he
never had when he had followed Ranma to China so long ago, fueled
by his anger at being betrayed... at being abandoned...

     Ryoga paused.  Then blinked as the thought came clearly into
his mind for the first time in his life.

     Abandoned.

     That was it.  The real reason behind his past vendetta
against Ranma.  The reason he'd never been able to put into
words, so instead, he simply uttered his battle cry of "Ranma,
prepare to die!"

     Ryoga had always been alone.  He had grown up alone.  His
parents, burdened with the same lousy sense of direction they had
passed on to their son, were rarely ever home.  He didn't have
friends at school because he couldn't find the school building
regularly enough to make friends.  And when he actually *could*
find it, most of the other boys had made fun of him, saying that
he must be really stupid to not be able to do something as simple
as find his way to school on a regular basis.

     Martial arts had been his only recourse, his only solace. 
And the only way to keep the other kids from teasing him.  After
all, it wasn't wise to tease a boy who could smash his fist
through a few feet of solid concrete without even flinching.

     Then one day, when he had happened to find his junior high
school, Ranma showed up.  Ranma Saotome, who, against school
regulations, wore his hair long and pulled back into a pony-tail
tied at the base of his neck.

     His first encounter with Ranma was when his head became
intimately acquainted with the soles of Ranma's feet as the pony-
tailed boy snatched the last curry bread from his outstretched
grasp, thus starting the infamous bread feud.  On top of that,
Ranma -- unlike the other boys who had long since given up out of
fear of his prodigious strength and marital arts skills -- teased
him for getting lost.

     Ryoga felt the familiar rage stir deep in his chest at the
memory.  Ranma was so arrogant, so sure of himself...  How dare
he make fun of him?!  

     Then, just as quickly as it came, the rage inside him
calmed.  That was so long ago.  Why should he get all worked up
over something that happened years ago?

     And, now that he thought about it; as the memory played
itself through his mind...  Ryoga was surprised to realize that
even though Ranma had teased him, the teasing was without the
malice that had spiked the words of his other classmates.

     It was simply the way Ranma communicated; the only way he
knew *how* to communicate after a life on the road with his less-
than-socially-minded father.  And Ryoga, whose own parental
guidance came in brief spurts of a few days over the span of his
entire lifetime, had responded less than understandingly.  In his
mind, there was only one way to repair the damage Ranma inflicted
to his shredded self-esteem.

     But Ryoga couldn't beat him up.  Couldn't even touch him, in
fact.  Ranma was too good, too quick.  The fight was over in
seconds.

     They should have been enemies after that first fight.  Ryoga
thought they *were* enemies.  He had pushed himself off the
ground, propping himself up on one elbow to wipe away the small
streak of blood from his lip, glaring hatefully at the pony-
tailed boy who stood over him.

     Ranma grinned, and reached out his hand.  "Hey, you're
pretty good," he said.  "Not as good as me, of course, but that's
still the best fight I've had in ages.  Better'n sparrin' with my
old man, that's for sure."

     Ryoga stared at the outstretched hand, speechless and frozen
in disbelief.  What was he doing??  Didn't he know that they were
sworn enemies now?

     "Come on," said Ranma, reaching down impatiently and hauling
Ryoga to his feet.  "Tell ya what.  For giving me such a good
fight, I'll take you to your house.  I know you'll never find it
on your own."  He laughed.  "Man, that sense of direction of
yours is pretty amazing.  I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't
seen you get lost on your way from class to the lunch room with
my own two eyes."

     Ryoga blinked, too stunned at the offer to get angry at
Ranma's taunt.

     He hadn't been able to find his home in days...  

     And nobody... *nobody* had ever offered to help him
before...

     So instead of taking his revenge, he looked down at his feet
and sullenly mumbled his address to Ranma, then allowed the pony-
tailed boy to lead him home.

     Ranma waved to him from the front gate.  "Hey, I'll see you
tomorrow morning," he called.  "Don't want you to get lost on the
way to school again, after all."  And he laughed, springing up to
walk on the fence.

     Ryoga seethed at the laugh, and watched Ranma leave through
narrowed eyes.  But, deep inside, in a place his pride wouldn't
admit existed, he was... grateful.

     After that, Ranma showed up at his door every morning like
clockwork to take him to school, and then led him home every
night without fail.  It was the longest stretch of time Ryoga had
ever been able to attend school, and he found himself enjoying
it.

     But most of all, above everything else, he secretly enjoyed
his fights with Ranma.  Even the infamous bread fights in the
lunchroom.  Fighting with Ranma constantly forced him to stretch
and grow in his abilities as he tried to find ways to defeat him. 
Then, just when he thought he had him for sure, Ranma somehow
came up with a counter-technique, often making up the moves as he
went along.  It was infuriatingly frustrating, losing over and
over again.  But it was also a constant challenge; an obsession
that kept his mind off the other... less appealing aspects of his
life.

     He knew Ranma enjoyed the fights as well (especially since
he always managed to win).  They fought almost constantly.  The
walks to and from school were more like one long extended battle. 
And the fights always started the same way.  Ranma would taunt
Ryoga, and Ryoga would attack him in a rage.

     Yet, deep in the core of that rage was a tiny seed of
gladness.

     For two boys who had never been taught even the most basic
communications skills, Ryoga and Ranma spoke the same language:
Martial arts.  And for Ryoga, fighting with a near equal
opponent, an opponent who always forced him to stretch the limit
of his abilities, was pure nirvana.

     And so it was that, after four days of searching for the
vacant lot behind his house, finding it at last, and yet not
finding Ranma for the big bread feud duel, Ryoga was devastated.

     And then, when Ryoga finally found his way home, Ranma again
failed to show up to lead him to school.

     Days passed, and no Ranma.  When Ryoga found the school
again weeks later, he was told that Ranma's father had taken him
out of school to go on a training trip to China.

     Abandoned.  He'd been abandoned by his only... friend.

     So, in his anger, Ryoga did the only thing he could think
of.  He followed to get revenge.

     And got lost...

     "Hey Ryoga."

     Ryoga started at the sound of his name, and looked up.  As
he did, he realized that he had been walking aimlessly while
absorbed in thought, and that he was no longer standing in front
of the market he'd found.  But that thought was pushed aside as
he looked up at the wall beside him and saw Ranma looking down at
him.

     He blinked in surprise.  "Ranma!  What are you doing here?"

     A faint smile touched Ranma's lips as he jumped down next to
him; a smile that failed to reach his eyes.  "Do you even know
where 'here' is, Ryoga?"

     Ryoga scowled.  "I'll have you know that I'm just on my way
back to the dojo after picking up a few things for Kasumi to fix
for dinner, Ranma," he growled.

     "Oh."  Ranma reached up, grabbed Ryoga's shoulder, and spun
him around.  "Well then, if you're headed for the dojo, you
should probably be going *that* way."

     Ryoga clenched his teeth, biting off a retort, and glared at
Ranma as he fell into step beside him.

     Then he realized something.  Ranma looked different. 
Something about his expression.  Ranma's face had lost the quiet
despair that had permeated his countenance that morning... 

     "Hey," he said, surprised.  "You look like you're feeling
better, Ranma."

     "I *am* feeling better."

     Ryoga blinked.  There was a distinct hardness to Ranma's
voice.  "So, uh..." he said uncertainly.  "The spell voices
aren't bothering you anymore?"

     "Oh, they're still in there.  But I got 'em under control."

     Ryoga glanced sidelong at Ranma.  Ranma was staring straight
ahead.  His outward expression seemed calm, but Ryoga noticed
that his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes...

     He swallowed.  Ranma's eyes were filled with a cold,
carefully controlled fury.  He could tell immediately that it
wasn't directed at him, but... it was an expression he'd never
seen on his friend's face before.

     It was damn scary.

     "You sure?" he asked, shaken.  

     "Ryoga."  That same, level voice.  Ryoga knew he wasn't
always the most perceptive person on the face of the earth, but
it was hard not to notice Ranma's stranger-than-normal behavior. 
This was definitely not the Ranma he knew.  Had the spell voices
finally driven him off the deep end? 

     "What?" he asked carefully.

     Ranma looked over at him, and Ryoga blinked, relieved, yet
surprised to see that the fury was gone from his eyes, dissipated
as if it had never been.  Instead, Ranma seemed merely curious.

     Yet something still wasn't right.

     "Do you remember who gave you that P-Chan nickname?" Ranma
asked.

     "What?!"  Ryoga stopped in mid-stride.  Ranma had said and
done some weird things since the blood spell, but this was
totally off the wall.  

     Ranma stopped as well, and turned to face him.  "Well, do
you?"

     "Of course I do!  You call me that all the time, Ranma!" 
Ryoga yelled.  Blood spell or not, Ranma had a lot of nerve
twisting that old thorn in his side...

     "Yeah," agreed Ranma calmly.  "But who gave you that
nickname?  It sure wasn't me."

     Ryoga blinked in shock, then his eyes narrowed.  "Yes it
was, Ranma," he snapped.  "And you did it just to torment me, as
usual."

     Ranma snorted, and yet he looked strangely satisfied at
Ryoga's reply.  "Yeah, right.  Like *I* would come up with a name
like 'P-Chan' when 'Bacon Breath' and 'Porky' suit you so much
better."

     Only the fact that he was carrying Kasumi's groceries kept
Ryoga from pounding Ranma right there.  "Shut up, Ranma!  What do
you know, anyway?  Your memory's all messed up from the blood
spell!"

     Ranma looked at him, and the sudden seriousness of his gaze
silenced him.  Underneath that seriousness, Ryoga could feel that
seething fury again.  A fury so strong, that, were Ranma to let
it loose, it would have made one hell of a battle aura.  And yet
Ranma had it carefully controlled so that it merely flickered in
his eyes.  

     "You could be right, Ryoga," said Ranma gravely.  "My brain
might be totally scrambled because of the blood spell."

     Then he lifted one hand to reveal a small cassette tape he
was holding between two fingers.  That small, disturbing smile
touched his lips again.  "But I don't think so."

     Ryoga eyed the tape suspiciously.  "What's that?"

     "Proof."  Ranma slid it into his pocket and patted it
protectively. 

     "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Ryoga, fighting
to keep the anger from his voice.  Ranma was definitely creeping
him out.  "What do you mean, 'proof?'"

     But Ranma didn't appear to be listening.  He just continued
walking, staring ahead with a thoughtful, yet slightly troubled
expression on his face.

     Ryoga watched him in silence, a feeling of foreboding
building in his gut.

     "You were... in love with her, you know," Ranma said at
last, quietly.  A strange convoluted expression of anger, regret,
sadness, and nostalgia played across his face.  He snorted
softly.  "Huh.  I hated it, hated how you could say it, and I...
couldn't.  And it drove me crazy, the way she never caught on to
your curse.  And you..."  He raised an eyebrow and frowned, still
staring straight ahead.  "You were always sneaking into her..." 
He cut himself off, and glanced over at Ryoga.

     Ryoga was looking at him, his eyes wide and worried, with a
tinge of panic in them.  *Oh man oh man.  Ranma's completely lost
it.  He's talking about that imaginary girl in his head.  He's
completely lost touch with reality.  What do I do now..?*

     It was almost as if Ranma could read his mind.  He smirked,
but his eyes were sad.  "But then, you don't even remember that,
do you," he said.  "Even though the last time it happened was
just over a week ago.  Nobody remembers.  Except me."

     "Ranma..."

     "Ryoga."  Ranma cut him off abruptly.  "I'm not crazy.  Yes,
I'm the one with the blood spell in my head.  But whatever has
made everybody forget Akane isn't the blood spell.  It's
something else.  I don't know what, but..." Ranma's gaze hardened
and the fury blazed in his eyes once again.  His hand reached
down unconsciously to cover the cassette tape in his pocket. 
"...I'm pretty damn sure I know who's behind it."

     He stopped walking.  Ryoga blinked, and realized that they
were standing outside the gates of the Tendo dojo.

     Ranma suddenly turned to him, and looked into his eyes. 
Ryoga was startled by the intensity he saw there; such a contrast
to the bleak hopelessness he saw in Ranma that very morning.  He
wasn't sure which was more frightening.

     "I'm gonna get her back, Ryoga.  I don't know how, but I'm
gonna find a way.  And when I do, you'll probably remember her
again.  But I want you to know right now, once and for all --
Akane is my fiancee.  And if you try to interfere again..." 
Ranma trailed off, then looked down, his dark bangs covering his
eyes.  His voice was firm, yet he sounded almost... reluctant. 
"Well, you're gonna have to fight me."

     Ryoga blinked, not knowing what to say.  This was completely
out of his realm of experience.  Ranma actually wanted to fight
him for the imaginary blood spell girl?  "Uh...  That's okay,
Ranma," he said soothingly.  "She's all yours."

     Ranma was silent a moment, then looked up.  To Ryoga's great
surprise, Ranma's mouth had turned up in a half smile.  He
clapped Ryoga on the back.  "Good," he said, and then chuckled
softly.  "But somehow I get the feeling you're gonna regret those
words.  'Cause, when the time comes, I'm gonna remind you of
them.  Then we'll see what happens."

     "Huh?"

     "Well, here's the dojo.  See you later, Ryoga."

     Ranma turned to leave.  Ryoga shook himself out of his
astonishment and grabbed Ranma's arm with his free hand,
clutching the groceries in the other.  "Hey!  Where do you think
you're going?"  Ranma was obviously in no shape to be off by
himself.  Who knew what his delusions would lead him to do?  

     Ranma looked down at his arm where Ryoga grasped it in a
steel grip.  "Let go, Ryoga," he said.  When he continued to hold
on, Ranma frowned.  "Look, I'm just going to check a couple of
things out, okay?  I was duped, and I'm not gonna get duped
again."

     The fire was back in Ranma's eyes.  Ryoga could see that it
still wasn't directed at him, but he could tell he was in for a
serious fight if he didn't let go.  But there wasn't time for
that.  And even if there was, he couldn't take the chance that he
might lose, leaving Ranma with no one to watch out for him.

     So he didn't let go.  "Come on, Ranma," he said, trying to
keep his voice calm.  "Kasumi's going to make dinner as soon as I
give her this stuff.  You don't want to miss dinner, do you?"

     Ranma relaxed slightly.

     Ryoga couldn't believe it.  He'd said the right thing!

     "Don't worry about it, Ryoga," Ranma said.  "I'm not gonna
do anything weird.  I'm just gonna... visit Doctor Tofu.  Then
I'll be back."

     Ryoga frowned.  He was going to visit Doctor Tofu?  That
wasn't so bad...  He relaxed his grip a little.  "You promise
you'll come right back?" he asked.

     Ranma laughed shortly.  "Jeeze, Ryoga, you sound like you're
my mom or something."

     Ryoga flushed and let go of Ranma's arm.  "I do not!" he
protested hotly.  "See if I ever worry about..."  He trailed off
and grit his teeth as he realized what he just said.

     Ranma laughed again, yet surprisingly refrained from teasing
him on the inadvertent admission.  "You know," he said wryly, "I
almost kinda like it this way.  At least it's a hell of a lot
better than you trying to kill me all the time."  His smile
turned rueful.  "Too bad you had to forget Akane for it to be
like this.  I hope that when I get her back..."

     Ryoga shifted the groceries to his other arm, more out of
mental than physical discomfort.  "Just hurry back from Doctor
Tofu's, okay?" he said irritably.  Perhaps Doctor Tofu could help
Ranma regain his senses, at least temporarily until Cologne came
back from China with the cure.  It was a good thing she was due
back tomorrow.  "Don't do anything stupid."

     Ranma nodded and grinned.  And if it weren't for the look in
his eyes, he would have looked a lot like his old care-free self. 
"Don't worry, Ryoga.  I'll come right back," he said, then turned
and ran off into the growing darkness.

     Ryoga watched him go, and wondered, with a sick feeling in
his gut, if he'd done the right thing to let him leave.

--------------------

     The phone rang.

     Nabiki reached over with lightning speed and grabbed it. 
"Moshi moshi," she said quickly.

     "Nabiki?"

     "Ukyo!  Any luck?"

     Ukyo's voice was suddenly worried.  "Nothing.  I was hoping
you would tell me he'd come home."

     Nabiki's smooth features creased in an anxious frown.  *Damn
it, Ranma, where are you?*  "No, nobody here has seen him since
this morning.  But I'm hoping he might show up for dinner."  

     Ukyo sighed heavily.  "Okay.  I'll keep looking for him. 
You'll call and leave a message if he shows up, won't you?"

     "Of course.  Good luck."

     "Thanks.  I'll need it.  I... I'm afraid that if Ranchan
doesn't want to be found, the chances are I won't find him."

     Nabiki was silent a moment.  "Don't give up, Ukyo.  You'll
find him."  It was more of a gentle order than encouragement.

     Ukyo understood.  "Okay," she said softly, trying to sound
hopeful.  "I'll call you.  Bye."

     "Bye."

     Nabiki hung up the phone on her desk.

     And stared at the tape in her hand.

     She hadn't listened to it.

     She was worried about Ranma.  But she wasn't sure if she was
worried that he was lost somewhere, slowly losing his mind
because of the blood spell...

     ...or worried that he was completely sane...

     She looked at the tape.

     She thought she already knew what it said.  But then, she
thought she knew what instructions she had written for her
distributors.  And the instructions she'd read that morning, in
her own handwriting, were a far cry from what she remembered
actually writing down.

     But it came pretty damn close to substantiating Ranma's
claim that Akane, his imaginary blood spell fiancee, was real. 
Was her little sister.  And that they'd all forgotten her.

     Even worse, her handwritten instructions implied that she
herself had been worried about that very thing happening.

     Nabiki rubbed her hand against her eyes.  She might be able
to find out for sure.  All she had to do was listen to the tape.

     Then again, the tape might not even mention Akane.  From
what she remembered, all it contained was Shampoo and Cologne
discussing the fact that they cast the blood spell, and that they
might be able to remove it, if necessary.  The tape might not
prove anything.

     *Why am I so reluctant to do this?* she thought angrily,
knowing the answer even as she asked the silent question.

     She sighed.

     She thought of the first time she'd seen Ranma.  In girl
form, draped over Genma-panda's shoulder like a sack of rice,
protesting loudly.  She remembered how disappointed she'd been
when she found out that the fiance daddy had arranged to marry
either her or Kasumi was actually a girl.  And she thought of
how... disgusted she'd been, when Ranma's curse was revealed. 
How could either she or Kasumi be expected to marry a half-man? 
And a half-man who was a year younger than her, as well?

     She'd never held much stock in arranged marriages.  But when
daddy had told her that Ranma was coming from China to meet them,
deep underneath her fiercely independent, clinically calculating
intellect that insisted that romance was for the weak-willed and
the perpetually needy... she had secretly hoped that the fiance
would be someone... special.

     Ranma turned out to be special, all right.  *Way* too
special for her discriminating tastes.

     And yet, over the past year, she had watched Ranma, and had
come to know him as more than just a gender-changing freak of
nature and magic.

     He was strong.  And drop-dead gorgeous -- when he was male. 
Those sleek muscles... those blue eyes... his athletic grace...

     Nabiki sighed and shook her head.  There was much more to
Ranma than just his body.  Unfortunately, it had taken her a long
time to realize that, since she'd spent so much time capitalizing
on said body -- both the male and female half --  and very little
time getting to know *him.*

     Still, she had, in spite of all efforts to remain aloof,
come to know him.  And in doing so, had come to understand in a
measure, not only why so many girls had fallen in... lust... with
him, but also how a few rare, perceptive girls, like Ukyo,
actually loved him for who he was.

     A small, knowing smile flickered briefly on her face.  She
knew that whoever Ranma married would be one very lucky woman --
in more ways than one.

     Her smile faltered.  Even so, she hadn't seriously
considered an engagement to Ranma.  Not until this past week, at
least.  After all, their interests were too diverse.  She was
smart, canny, and she had big plans for her... future in society.

     Ranma was... a barbarian.  But an honorable barbarian.  A
sweet, naive barbarian, whose posturing machismo was a thin cover
for his deep insecurities.  He was so self-conscious about his
curse...

     But his curse didn't matter.

     Didn't someone once say that opposites attract?

     Nabiki groaned in frustration and slammed her fist on the
table.  She looked at the tape.

     Real or not, Ranma loved this Akane girl.

     But... Akane might not be real...

     If she was real, that meant...

     Nabiki pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. 
Her instincts were screaming at her.  She was missing something. 
Something vital.  She clenched her teeth.  Her desires were
interfering with her ability to discover the truth.  She hated
that feeling, hated not being in control, hated knowing that her
normally keen perception was being colored by her emotions...

     *Akane *couldn't* be real.  Think of Ranma's behavior...
acting desperate, lovesick, heartsick...  He's *never* acted that
way before now.  It's got to be the blood spell...*

     *Just play the tape...*

     *Not yet...*

     Nabiki felt a scream of frustration building in her.  This
whole week, especially the past few days had been so taxing. 
Matching wits with Cologne was not an easy task.  And even though
she succeeded in getting the confession from the old ghoul and
the bimbo, she couldn't help but feel...

     Something clicked.

     The past week.  She'd only started thinking seriously of an
engagement with Ranma this past week.  Since the blood spell.

     Why only the past week?  Why had her feelings changed?

     Nabiki felt her eyes widen, and her heart began to pound.

     No.  Not her feelings.  Her feelings were the same.  Why had
her *thinking* changed?

     Perhaps Ranma wasn't the only one who had been affected...

     Perhaps... there was more to this than just the blood spell
at work...

     Nabiki grit her teeth.  Perhaps she'd underestimated
Cologne.

     According to Ranma, Akane was supposed to be her little
sister.  Her sister, whom Ranma was engaged to.  Whom Ranma...
loved.

     If that was true, and she had forgotten about this sister;
about this sister's engagement to Ranma, then there would be
nothing to keep her own feelings from...

     *...*

     With trembling fingers, Nabiki slipped the tape into her
stereo, put the headphones on, and pressed 'play.'

     She listened.

     "I tell you, great-granddaughter, that boy is practically
yours.  When he finally accepts the fact that he'll never see
Akane again, he'll fall right into your arms, and you'll be there
to comfort him and be his wife.  Then your honor will be
restored, and we will all return home together."

     Nabiki continued to listen, her face an expressionless mask.

     Except for a single tear that slowly brimmed, and slipped
silently down her face.

--------------------

     Kasumi walked up the stairs, intent on telling Nabiki that
dinner was ready.  She stopped outside the storage room and
frowned slightly at the little wooden duck that bore the name
"Akane."

     She shook her head.  Tomorrow she would have to do something
about all that stuff that Ranma had managed to drag in there to
make the storage room appear as though it were a girl's room. 
She didn't think it was healthy to have it around much longer,
since it only served as a constant reminder of Ranma's
blood-spell induced... illness.

     *Poor Ranma,* she thought sadly.  *The boy's been through so
much...  It's not fair.*

     She reached out to take the duck nameplate off the door.

     "Kasumi, don't."

     Kasumi turned to see Nabiki, who had just come out of her
room.  "Oh, Nabiki.  I was just coming to tell you that dinner is
ready."

     "Has Ranma come back yet?"

     Kasumi shook her head.  "I'm afraid not.  But Ryoga said he
saw him right before he returned with the groceries.  He said
Ranma was on his way to see Doctor Tofu."

     A spark of relief flashed through Nabiki's eyes so quickly,
Kasumi wasn't sure if she'd imagined it.  Then Nabiki nodded
bruskly, her natural business-like demeanor slipping on like a
comfortable sweater.  "Good," she said.  "I'm glad we know where
he is.  We need to go get him."

     "Why?  What's wrong?"

     "Is everybody downstairs, Kasumi?"

     "Well, yes, they're waiting for dinner..."

     "Good."  Nabiki put a hand on Kasumi's arm, and looked at
the duck nameplate her sister had been about to remove.  "I've
just discovered something that everybody needs to know."

--------------------

     Ranma didn't go to see Doctor Tofu.

     He stood outside the Nekohanten, his fists clenched tightly
at his sides as he struggled to control his fury.  Nabiki's words
from nearly a week ago rang in his mind... 

     *Just make sure you get them to reverse the spell *before*
you kill them, Ranma.*

     Shampoo and Cologne had lied to him.  And he had fallen for
it.  Taken the bait, hook, line and sinker.

     Ranma's battle aura began to flare around him, but he
focused, and forced the fury-fed energies back down.

     Who knew how Akane had suffered because of the time he had
wasted, sitting around, waiting to receive help from the very two
who were responsible for the blood spell that had spirited Akane
away, trapping her in the Kami Plane...

     It was his own fault.  He should have known he couldn't
trust the old ghoul.  And Shampoo... Shampoo had played some
sneaky, underhanded tricks on him in the past, but those had
always been virtually harmless, aside from the blows to his
pride.  For her to do *this*...

     No.  He had to control his temper.  That was how he had been
fooled so easily last time, because he wasn't thinking clearly. 
He had to stay calm.

     For Akane's sake.

     He reached out and opened the new front door of the
restaurant -- the one that replaced the door he had shattered
with his fist almost a week ago -- and went in.

     It was the dinner rush.  Shampoo and Mousse were serving
customers as fast as they could manage to prepare the food.

     Ranma hesitated, but then realized he didn't care if this
encounter took place in public.  He'd waited too long anyway.

     A few customers near the entrance noticed him, noticed his
countenance, and quietly excused themselves from the restaurant.

     Shampoo caught sight of him on her way to serve a patron,
and her expression lit up.  "Aiya!  Ranma, you come visit
Shampoo?"

     Then she saw his face.

     She paled.  The bowl of ramen she was balancing on her hand
slipped from limp fingers to smash on the floor.

     Ranma's blue eyes burned into her own with a fury so
intense, she was afraid it would consume her right there.

     Ranma didn't trust himself to speak just yet, so he kept
silent.  Just as well.  The shattering bowl of ramen had alerted
the other patrons to oncoming disaster, and they were quickly
making themselves scarce.

     Mousse came up behind Shampoo and peered at him through his
glasses.  "Ranma?  What are you doing here?  What's going on?"

     Ranma glanced at him, then back to Shampoo.  "Ask Shampoo,"
he said hoarsely.  "She knows a hell of a lot more than she's
been telling."

     Mousse bristled.  "How dare you speak about Shampoo that
way!  Especially after everything she's done to help you with the
blood spell!"

     Shampoo wasn't listening to Mousse's defense.  She was
staring at Ranma's fists.  They were clenched at his sides,
white-knuckled.  Slowly, from the palms of his hands, blood began
to seep through his fingers where his nails were digging into his
own flesh.  Ranma didn't appear to notice.

     "Well, Shampoo?" he said.  His voice was carefully flat.

     "S-Shampoo not... know what you talking..." she managed
weakly.  *Oh gods, his *eyes*...*  She'd never seen such fury,
such betrayal, not even the first night she returned after
casting the blood spell.  And Ranma's deadly calm, as opposed to
his normal fiery temper, was the most frightening thing of all...

     *Back-up plan, back-up plan...  What was it?!*  Shampoo's
eyes were fixed on Ranma's bleeding hands...  She seemed
mesmerized by the tiny red droplets that were slowly working
their way from between his fingers and down Ranma's white
knuckles...

     drip...

     He was hurting himself, and he was so angry, he couldn't
feel it *Oh Ranma I'm so sorry what have I done please forgive me
all I wanted...*  Her thoughts were a jumbled babble as panic and
despair swelled within her like a rising tide.

     drip...

     *Backup plan...  Oh!*

     "Ranma."  Her voice was shaking, matching the rest of her
body.  She was trembling uncontrollably.  Another lie.  Another
lie to cover the lies.  She hated it.  It was never supposed to
be like this.  "What wrong, Ranma?  You... you angry at Shampoo? 
Is... dragon's spell to make you hate Shampoo working...?"  

     That should have made him pause.  Should at least have given
him second thoughts, making him wonder what the source of his
anger really was.

     *That's it, Ranma.  Whatever has made you angry is just the
result of the blood spell.  That's all it is.  Magically induced
emotion that you can overcome, because you're so strong, and
brave, and honorable...*

     Ranma's cold countenance cracked, and he grimaced as if in
pain, the faint red flicker of a barely suppressed battle aura
flaring around his form.  He unclenched one bleeding hand and
reached into his pocket.

     He pulled out the tape.

     Shampoo felt her world shatter.

     Ranma knew everything.  She had Failed.

     Ranma held the tape out.  "Do you know what this is,
Shampoo?"

     She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.  She felt her
throat close off, and she sank to her knees as quiet, heaving
sobs began to wrack her body.

     Ironically, tears wouldn't come.

     "Shampoo, what's wrong?"  Mousse was torn between his
concern for Shampoo, his fury towards Saotome, and his general
confusion as to what was happening.  "Shampoo, are you alright? 
Ranma!"  Mousse turned in what he hoped was Ranma's direction. 
"What have you done to Shampoo?!"

     Ranma just looked at Shampoo.  At her reaction.  At the
final proof.

     So he was right.  Nabiki had been using this tape to
blackmail her.  And Shampoo had done something wrong, had slipped
up somehow, because he had been given the tape.

     He wondered what she'd done...

     "Ranma!  You shall pay for what you've done to Shampoo! 
Prepare to die!"

     Mousse launched himself at Ranma, steel blades flying from
his sleeves.

     Ranma ducked smoothly, dropping to the floor, and, with a
lifting kick, sent Mousse flying over his head and into the wall
behind him.

     Ranma jumped to his feet.  "Stay out of this, Mousse," he
said in a low voice, watching as the Chinese boy slid down the
wall head first.  "This is between me and Shampoo."

     "Saotome," wheezed Mousse as he rolled over and pushed
himself up to his feet.  More blades flicked out from his
sleeves, ready to launch.  "I won't let you hurt her."

     "I'm not gonna hurt her," said Ranma softly.  But Mousse
wasn't listening.  He charged again.  In one swift movement,
Ranma moved out of the way and brought his elbow down hard on the
back of Mousse's head as the boy moved past him...

     Mousse's eyes went blank as he lost consciousness and
collapsed to the floor.

     "Sorry, Mousse," whispered Ranma.  He turned and looked at
Shampoo who was staring at him, misery and guilt etched harshly
across her features.

     Ranma felt his anger sliding away under a wave of
desperation.

     Yes, he was still angry at Shampoo.  Furious at Cologne.  He
knew the truth at last.  But at the moment, he didn't care that
Shampoo cast the blood spell.  That wasn't what mattered.  

     "I..."  Ranma's voice cracked.  Shampoo knelt before him,
sobbing silently, as if awaiting judgement.  "I don't wanna
fight you, Shampoo.  I just want you to remove the blood spell." 
A note of pleading seeped into his hoarse voice as tears built
behind his eyes..  "I just... want you to bring Akane back."

     Shampoo's heart rent it two

     She knew who Akane was.  Not because she remembered, but
because of the detailed account of the circumstances of the blood
spell great-grandmother had left for her.  She knew she had cast
the spell specifically to get rid of this girl... this
obstacle...

     The grief she saw in Ranma's eyes because of this forgotten
girl was worse than the anger, if such a thing was possible.  And
all she wanted when she cast the blood spell was for Ranma to
look at her with love...

     "Ranma..." she whispered.  "I so sorry..."

     "If you're sorry," said Ranma brokenly, "then remove the
blood spell."

     Shampoo shook her head, her eyes wide.  Now the tears came,
welling up and spilling down her cheeks.  "I no can..."

     Ranma fell to his knees and gripped her by the shoulders. 
His bleeding hands stained the crisp white of her apron.  "You
have to, Shampoo!  You did this to me!"

     She continued to shake her head, her expression a rictus of
guilt and grief as the tears streamed down her face.  Ranma's
face twisted in desperation and anger, and his fingers
involuntarily clenched on her shoulders, making her wince in
pain.  "Please, Shampoo!"

     "Is no cure..." she whispered.  "Is no cure..."

     Ranma's eyes widened in horror.  He released Shampoo's
shoulders and sat back heavily on his heels.  "No... cure?"  His
throat constricted as cold tendrils of fear and despair once
again threaded their way around his heart.  The droning mantras
of the spell voices rang in the back of his mind fatalistically,
singing their song of hopelessness to his soul.  "You mean...
there's no way to break the blood spell?"

     Shampoo nodded.

     "You're... lying..."

     Shampoo was silent.  But she didn't have to say anything. 
Ranma could see the truth in her eyes.

     He felt his body and mind go numb with shock.  *No cure...*

     *Akane...*

     And the spell voices, strengthened by the surge of despair,
raged up and out of Ranma's careful mental barriers.  Ranma
gasped in pain at the sudden onslaught, and clutched his temples
with his bleeding hands.

     Shampoo cried out.  "Ranma!"

     Mousse lifted his head groggily from where he lay prostrate
on the restaurant floor.  "Sh-Shampoo..."  He pushed himself to
his knees and saw the blurry images of Shampoo and Ranma kneeling
across from each other.  Ranma was trembling as he desperately
struggled to focus enough to push the spell voices back, but
Mousse didn't notice that.  All he saw through his thick lenses
was Shampoo crying.

     And the bright red blood stains on her apron.  Matching the
smears of blood on Ranma's hands, pressed on either side of his
head.

     A murderous glint flashed through Mousse's eyes as he stood
shakily.  "Rannmaaa!" he growled fiercely.  "I don't care if you
are under the influence of the blood spell!  You shall pay for
hurting Shampoo!"

     Shampoo looked up to see Mousse standing over an
unresponding Ranma, his blades poised to launch from his sleeves. 
"No!  Mousse, stop!"  She jumped up and leaped in front of
Mousse, shielding Ranma with her body.

     Mousse froze as he looked into the tear-stained face of the
woman he loved.  "Shampoo," he said, stunned.  "What are you
doing?  Why are you protecting him when he's hurt you like this?"

     "Mousse," she said softly, and she lowered her gaze, unable
to meet his eyes.  Her voice was leaden.  "Ranma no hurt Shampoo. 
Shampoo... hurt Ranma."

     A chill ran through Mousse at the unnatural, dead tone of
her voice.  He looked over at Saotome, noticing for the first
time how Ranma seemed to be in an agony greater than any that
could be caused by a simple flesh wound, as he desperately
clutched his head...

     *Ah,* Mousse realized.  *The spell voices again...*

     Then he froze.  *Shampoo... hurt Ranma...?*

     Suddenly, all the little suspicions he'd held at bay for so
long surged to the forefront of his mind, and Mousse stared at
Shampoo, his eyes widening behind his glasses.   He'd
suspected...  But no, Shampoo wouldn't...  She was too honorable
for...

     "Shampoo." he said.  "You didn't..."

     She nodded.  Her voice was quiet, miserable, yet strangely
resigned.  "I cast blood spell, Mousse.  I pay blood price.  I
trade my blood for dragon blood."

     Mousse looked at her, wanting to disbelieve with all his
heart.  But he couldn't.  Because he could see in her face that
it was true.  

     He looked past her shoulder at Ranma, who knelt, groaning,
seemingly oblivious to the two people watching over him as he
continued to clutch his temples in pain.

     Mousse felt something twinge inside him.  An unpleasant
thought rose unbidden.  *This... is what Shampoo does to the man
she... loves..?* 

     The thought left him cold, and he pushed it from him.

     "Is he... going to be okay?" he asked at last.

     "He fight spell voices," answered Shampoo listlessly.  "I
put spell voices in head so Ranma know Akane alive, but no can
find her.  They supposed to fade away when he... give up on her
and fall in love with Shamp... with me.  But Ranma no..." She
trailed off into silence and watched helplessly as Ranma battled
the unnatural forces she'd placed inside him.

     Mousse frowned.  Shampoo was speaking as if Akane was a real
person, and not just a blood spell figment created for Ranma to
obsess over...

     But then... it hardly made sense that Shampoo would cast a
spell that would make Ranma fall in love with some imaginary...
girl...

     *Oh no...*

     "Shampoo," said Mousse firmly, in spite of the sick feeling
building in his stomach.  It was the same feeling both he and had
Ranma shared on the day the blood spell hit.  "Who is Akane?"

     Shampoo knew exactly what he meant, and she answered
accordingly, in the same lifeless, defeated voice.  "Akane
Ranma's... fiancee.  She trapped in Kami Plane, and Kami Plane
make everybody but Ranma forget her."

     Mousse closed his eyes.  So Ranma had been telling the
truth.  He really had lost the girl he loved.  And now he was
apparently fated to have the spell voices in his mind
permanently, since there was no way he would ever fall in love
with Shampoo now, and she seemed to believe that was the
stipulation for his release.

     Mousse... felt bad for Ranma.  Even the jealous voice inside
him, that normally would have been screaming that Ranma brought
this upon himself because of his womanizing ways, was silent.

     "Shampoo, there has to be a way to break the blood spell,"
he said, opening his eyes and looking through his glasses at the
curled-up blur that was Ranma.  He could hear that the pig-tailed
boy was using breathing techniques to focus and even out his
breathing, and was gradually relaxing; evidence that he was
pushing the spell voices back once again.

     "Shampoo..."  She wasn't listening to him.  She was just
staring at Ranma, her violet eyes no longer wet, but dull and
lifeless, like a doll's eyes, as she numbed herself to the
evidence of her crime before her.  "Shampoo..."  He took her by
the shoulder, to shake her out of her stupor.

     She turned and slapped him hard across the face.

     "Go away, Mousse."

     Mousse rubbed his cheek where her hand print was forming. 
She had hit him harder than that innumerable times before.  Hit
him, pounded him, caged him while he was in duck form...  And he
loved her in spite of it all.

     He still loved her.  But, for the first time in his life, he
felt himself growing angry at her.  At her actions, self-centered
and unthinking.  The blood spell, an abomination of dark magic...
and now this...

     "You selfish little..."

     Shampoo blinked.

     "You stoop to using forbidden magic, casting a *blood spell*
on Ranma, then intentionally lie about it... And you even see him
suffering because of what *you've* done to him..!"  Mousse's eyes
flashed behind his glasses.  He could hardly believe that he was
yelling at Shampoo... and defending Ranma of all people...  "Even
now, all you can think about is yourself!  How *you* are going to
suffer because Ranma discovered your treachery and ruined your
plans to trap him."

     It was a hard truth.  Hard for him to admit that perhaps
Ranma wasn't the one chasing Shampoo.  But he could not delude
himself in the face of such evidence.  Shampoo wanted Ranma.  So
badly that she was willing to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy
her own.  Mousse looked her in the eyes, fighting the part of him
that wanted to throw himself at her feet and worship her in spite
of it all.  "It's time to for you to stop thinking about
yourself, Shampoo," he said hoarsely, "and start thinking about
how to fix the damage you've done."

     Shampoo blinked again, stunned.  Her hand raised again,
lashed out...

     Mousse caught her wrist in his hand.  Then caught the other.

     Shampoo looked up at him, struggling uselessly, trying to
free her hands from Mousse's surprisingly strong grip, anger
flashing across her face as her eyes shimmered with tears.  He
returned her gaze, his blue-grey eyes sad, but firm behind his
thick lenses.

     Shampoo tried to wrench her arms free again as she looked
into his face.  "Mousse, you stupid..!"

     Then she let out a low sob, her anger crumbling away under a
wave of grief, and she sagged into him, weeping into his chest.

     Mousse froze.  Then, slowly, he released Shampoo's wrists. 
Her hands went to the front of his robe.  Not to hit or pound
him, but to clutch desperately at the cloth over his chest as she
shook, her tears soaking the fabric.  He hesitated only a moment,
then carefully put his arms around her, gently stroking her long
silken hair.

     He'd waited a lifetime for this moment.  He let the moment
stretch into minutes, allowing Shampoo to release her emotions. 
He only wished...

     Ranma knelt next to them, groaning quietly as he battled the
spell voices within.

     "It's... okay, Shampoo," said Mousse.  "I know you'll find a
way to fix things.  I know you'll find a way to break the blood
spell.  Even if you have to pay another blood price, I know
you'll do it..."

     Shampoo suddenly stiffened in his arms.  He looked down at
her, relaxing his hold, wondering if she was going to push him
away.

     She looked up at him, her eyes wide and wet.  "Wh-what you
say, Mousse?" she asked softly.

     He blinked.  She wasn't clobbering him for holding her. 
"I... uh... said that I know you'll make things right..."

     "No, stupid!"  She seemed more anxious than angry.  "About
dragon.  You say I have to go back to dragon!"

     Had he?  He couldn't remember.  "I... er, mentioned the
blood price...  I think..."

     "Aiya!  That it, Mousse!  That way to break blood spell! 
Ancient One more than powerful enough to remove spell cast with
own blood!"

     "Ancient One?!" gasped Mousse.  He dropped his arms to his
sides in shock.  "Shampoo, you got dragon blood from the *Ancient
One?!*"

     Beside them, Ranma moaned and raised his head, slowly
opening his eyes as the ringing aftereffects of the spell voices
lingered in the forefront of his mind.  He looked over at Shampoo
and Mousse.  With his hope of breaking the blood spell crushed,
pushing back the spell voices had taken the last ounce of his
remaining will.  And they had not been confined peacefully. 
Ranma felt as if his mind had just been scrubbed raw with a wire
bristle brush.  

     He winced as he pushed himself to his feet.  "Do you mean
it, Shampoo?" he asked. "Can this Ancient One really break the
blood spell and bring Akane back?"

     Shampoo looked at Ranma and paled, seeing him on his feet
again, seeing the anxious, determined look on his face. 
"Ranma..." she said.  "I... so sorry...  I go back to China and
get dragon to break blood spell...  Ancient One, he oldest of
dragons, very powerful.  He can break spell."

     A touch of hope flickered in Ranma's eyes, but it was still
dampened by seriousness.  "He can," he said.  "But *will* he?"

     Shampoo looked down.  "Shampoo... not know.  But have to
try."  She looked up, and her eyes were shimmering with tears. 
"Can Ranma... forgive Shampoo?"

     Ranma's face betrayed no emotion.  "I have to know
something," he said at last.  "The blood spell... Who's idea was
it?  Yours or Cologne's?"

     Shampoo paled even more.  Seeing this, Ranma's expression
hardened slightly.

     She suddenly felt Mousse's hand on her shoulder.  Her
instinct told her to turn and clobber him.

     But she had no right.  He had shown honor in the face of her
lies...

     Lies.  No more lies.

     She looked Ranma in the eye.  "Is great-grandmother's idea,"
she said softly.  "But she not force me.  She give me choice.  I
chose.  I cast spell.  I... sent Akane away, and I put spell
voices in head.  I... sorry."  So inadequate.  What apology could
make up for what she'd done?

     Ranma trembled, his eyes closed, his bleeding hands clenched
into fists once again.  His battle aura flared, a bright,
greenish-blue tinged with fiery red. 

     Shampoo stood silently, ready to take whatever Ranma threw
at her.

     But then his battle aura died down.  His trembling stopped,
and he visibly swallowed his anger.  He stood silently for a long
moment, his dark bangs hanging over his eyes.  

     "Why?" he asked finally.  His voice was barely a whisper. 
"Why'd you do it?"

     Shampoo closed her eyes and a tear slid down her cheek. 
"Wo... ai ni..." she whispered.  She felt the hand on her
shoulder tremble and slide off.

     Ranma winced.  "I... don't love you, Shampoo."  His voice
was soft, without malice.

     "I know."  This, above all else, the most difficult
admission of her life.

     He raised his head finally.  "How can I trust you?  How can
I know that you'll help me rather than try to trick me again?"

     "Because," Shampoo swallowed and steadied herself.  What
else was there to say?  She opened her eyes and looked at him. 
"You not Shampoo's husband, Ranma.  Mousse..." Her voice cracked. 
"Mousse is Shampoo's husband."

     There was a stunned silence.

     "*What?!*" 

     Suddenly Mousse was in front of her, and Ranma was looking
over his shoulder at her incredulously.

     "Really, Shampoo?  Do you mean it?" Mousse asked.  His eyes
were wide with hope and disbelief.

     She looked at him.  "Shampoo no love you, Mousse," she said,
her voice and her eyes sad.  "But you defeat Shampoo.  You hold
arms and keep me from striking you."

     Some of the hope died in Mousse's eyes.  "Shampoo..."

     "Shampoo...  You don't have to do this," said Ranma.

     "Yes," she replied, quiet and determined.  "Is punishment
for pain I cause you, Ranma."

     Mousse shriveled.  Ranma just stared at her.

     "Now I go to China to face Ancient One so that he remove
blood spell."

     Ranma frowned.  This was what he wanted.  For Shampoo to
remove the blood spell.  To get Akane back.  But for her to
suddenly decide she was married to Mousse...

     She seemed to know what he was thinking.  "Is more than
punishment, Ranma," she said, her voice surprisingly calm.  "Is
Amazon law.  If two men beat Amazon woman, and one man is
outsider, Amazon man take precedence over outsider man, to keep
strength in tribe.  Mousse is Amazon man.  You is not.  You no
need... worry... about me anymore."

     "Shampoo..."

     "No talking.  Is done."

     Mousse looked at Shampoo silently, not knowing what to say. 
He had hoped for so long...  But for it to be like this... 
Somehow she seemed further away from him than ever.  His heart
ached.

     Ranma looked back and forth between Mousse and Shampoo. 
"I'll... let you work this out between yourselves," he said. 
"But for now..." He turned to face Shampoo.  "I'm coming with you
to China.  I wanna make sure this spell gets lifted, even if I
have to face this Ancient One myself."

     Shampoo nodded.  "We prepare tonight and go first thing in
morning."  She paused, and a look of trepidation flickered across
her face.  "Is best to leave before great-grandmother return. 
She will be... angry."

     Ranma snorted derisively, and the old fury flashed in his
eyes.  "I don't care what that old ghoul says or tries to do.  If
she tries anything, I'll rip her head off.  But I do wanna leave
for China as soon as possible."  He turned to walk out the door. 
"I'll be back at first light," he said.  "Be ready to go or I'll
leave without you."

     Shampoo winced at the hardness in his voice.  Seeing this,
Ranma's face softened slightly.  He sighed.  "I'm glad you want
to make up for what you've done, Shampoo.  And I haven't
forgotten all the times you've helped me in the past.  But don't
expect me to just fall on the floor in gratitude, because in one
week you've come close to destroying my entire life.  And if you
think about tricking me again, just remember.  I'll find a way to
break the blood spell with or without your help."

     And with that, he turned and walked out the door.

     Shampoo watched him leave, a great emptiness swelling inside
her.

     Mousse cleared his throat.  "Shampoo..."

     "Mousse.  Go pack things, okay?"

     He sighed.  "Okay, Shampoo."  He turned away from her.  And
spoke in their native Mandarin.  "*But I hope that someday you
will think of me as a reward for your redemption... rather than
as a punishment for your sin.*"

     She didn't respond.  He walked quietly out of the room and
went upstairs.

     Shampoo looked out the store windows and into the dark
night.  *Oh Mousse,* she thought, her eyes shimmering.  *I hope
so too.*

--------------------

     In the Kami Plane, deep within the Snow Woman's abode, a
demon laughed.

     The Shadowcat was clearly pleased.  It's eyes burned like
yellow lamps as it looked at the Snow Woman's mirror.  Within the
swirling ice magic that sped across the mirror's surface, it
could see a dark-haired pig-tailed boy running along the top of a
fence under a moonless night sky.  

     **Ah, yessss,** it purred.  **I am familiar with this one. 
He is my strongest initiate.  Very powerful, his spirit.  He
feeds me well, those too few times his fear activates my gift and
connects his soul with mine.**

     The Snow Woman smiled and ran her long white fingers through
the Shadowcat's fur, feeling the gnawing tingle of the demon's
black ki down to her cold bones.  "Pity," she said, "that you can
only be summoned briefly to the mortal realm by mortal fear. 
Otherwise, you could dwell there, and keep the boy in a perpetual
state of terror."

     The Shadowcat chuckled knowingly.  **It is true, I can only
be summoned.  But I know of no reason I cannot be *sent*...** 
The demon cat's tail twitched in anticipation.

     "And if I provided a way, what then?  The boy has broken
your trance each time."

     **He cannot do it himself,** answered the demon.  **Only two
people have managed to break my hold over him.  One is dead.  The
other...**

     The Snow Woman's smile turned grim.  "The other will return
to me once his mind is purged of human thought and memory,
breaking his hold over her once and for all."

     The Shadowcat blinked dismissively.  **It seems such a small
reward, a pet human girl, in return for giving me this strong
one.**

     The Snow Woman's eyes flashed.  "That is no concern of
yours," she said.

     **Of course not.  But on the subject of breaking trances...
There is the little matter of his Jusenkyo curse.  The shock of
his transformation has also shattered the connection between us
on numerous occasions.**

     A slow, cold smile crawled across the Snow Woman's bloodless
features.  

     "Leave that to me." 

--------------------

     Doctor Tofu arrived shortly after Ukyo.  Nabiki greeted him
at the door, after making sure that Kasumi was irretrievably
absorbed in cleaning up the kitchen after dinner.  Without a
life-threatening emergency forcing the doctor to have a clear
head, she knew he was susceptible to his usual infatuation-
induced fog.  She didn't need the smitten man shredding the
evidence before it was presented.

     "Has Ranma come home yet?" he asked.

     "Not yet," she replied soberly.  "Did you bring everything?"

     Tofu patted a satchel at his side.  "I've got everything
right here."

     She nodded.  "Good.  Between that and the stuff I've managed
to find, it ought to convince them."

     They walked into the living room, where Ryoga, Ukyo, her
father, and Uncle Saotome sat waiting for them.

     Ukyo had her arms folded crossly.  "We're wasting our time
here," she said.  "We should be out looking for Ranchan."  She
glared at Ryoga.  "I can't believe you just let him run off like
that."

     "Hey!  He told me he was going to Doctor Tofu's!  Besides, I
didn't even know you were looking for him!"

     "Quiet, everyone."  Nabiki motioned for silence.  Everybody
looked at her.  She looked at Doctor Tofu.

     He sighed.  "Apparently, some of you are having a hard time
believing Nabiki when she says that Ranma's blood spell girl,
Akane, is real.  I must admit, when she called me looking for
Ranma, and then told me of her suspicions, I was skeptical.  But
then I did a little research on my own and found out some very
disturbing things."

     He reached into his satchel, pulled out an ancient leather
book and opened it to a marked page.  "Ranma keeps claiming that
Akane is trapped in the Kami Plane.  Well, I did some reading,
and found this."  He put the book down on the table.  Everyone
craned their necks to look at it, then frowned when they saw it
was written in Chinese.

     Tofu cleared his throat.  "This is a very ancient book,
written centuries ago by a very wise priest.  He was an expert in
creatures unnatural, and the worlds from which they come.  Here,"
and he pointed to the page, "he speaks of the Kami Plane, where
Ranma claims Akane is trapped.  He says that mortals unfortunate
enough to travel to the Kami Plane gradually forget the mortal
world, and are forgotten as well by those they leave behind."

     He looked piercingly at those surrounding the table.  "This
fits perfectly with what Ranma has been telling us all along."

     "So... it's *not* the blood spell?  It's the Kami Plane?"
asked Ryoga.

     Ukyo was noticeably silent, but her expression was one of
dismay.

     "Impossible," muttered Soun.  "Magic or not, I would never
forget my own daughter."

     "And I thought I would never forget my own sister, daddy,"
said Nabiki.  "But guess what?  I did.  You did.  We all have
forgotten her.  Ranma may have the spell voices in his head, but
they were right all along.  *He* was right all along.  Akane is
real.  And she needs our help."

     "Yes, I'm afraid she's right," said Tofu.  "After reading
this, I checked my own files and found this."  He pulled out a
thick folder filled with loose papers.  "These are medical
records, kept in my own handwriting, detailing a medical history
of one Akane Tendo for the past 17 years."  A small smile pierced
the disturbed look in his eyes.  "It appears, Tendo-san, that
Akane was extremely active in martial arts.  She came to see me
each time she was injured.  I find it amazing that, with such
evidence before me, I cannot remember her at all."

     Soun took the medical file and looked at it with wide eyes. 
"Can it be..?"

     "There's more," said Nabiki.  "While I was waiting for
Doctor Tofu to show up, I checked out that room upstairs.  I
found a lot of interesting stuff, including these."  She pulled
out some photos, and began laying them down one by one on the
table.  Soun and Genma picked them up to examine them.

     They were pictures of the family, before mother died.  In
the first one, Soun stood behind his wife, his hand lovingly on
her shoulder.  A young Nabiki and Kasumi stood on either side of
her.  And on her lap, she held a little black-haired toddler with
expressive brown eyes and a cute smile. 

     Soun stared at the pictures in shock.  Ryoga and Ukyo
glanced at each other with growing uneasiness.  Nabiki noted
their reactions -- especially Ukyo's -- and debated whether or
not to put down the final picture.

     She sighed.  Ukyo had to find out and accept it sooner or
later...  "Here," she said.  "This one's especially...
entertaining.  I didn't think anyone had ever taken a picture of
Ranma when he was under the influence of the Nekoken, but look at
this."  She slapped the picture down.

     Ukyo's eyes went wide.  "That's... Akane?"

     Ryoga's eyes were wide as well.  "Th-that's Ranma? 
Wh-what's he doing?"

     Nabiki smirked.  "It's called 'kissing,' Ryoga.  You should
try it some time."  She chuckled as Ryoga flushed seven different
shades of red.

     Soun and Genma snatched the picture off the table and peered
at it.

     "That's my boy!" said Genma.  "Showing a little initiative!"

     Soun started up with the water works.  "My daughter!  I have
a daughter I can't remember!"

     Nabiki smiled grimly.  "I think you'll all agree that the
evidence is indisputable.  Akane is real.  Our next priority is
to find Ranma, and let him know he's not going crazy."

     "Thanks, Nabiki, but I already figured that out."

     Everybody turned, stunned, to see Ranma standing in the
hallway.

     He smiled a little, still looking at Nabiki.  "But I guess I
have you to thank for that anyway."

     Nabiki blinked, trying to get her brain back into gear. 
"What?"  He walked up to her and put a cassette tape in her
hands.

     "So, thanks," he said, enjoying the horrified look that
rippled across her face as she looked down at the object in her
hands.  "I feel much better."  He looked at the others, who were
staring at him, jaws agape.  "And it's nice to know you all
believe me now."

     Nabiki blinked.  Her distributors had given him the tape. 
Not a bad thing, since she was planning on playing it for him
herself.  But that meant he knew about Shampoo.  And that
meant...

     "So *that's* where you were..." she said, looking up at him. 
He appeared to be in good shape...  She raised an eyebrow,
refusing to be ruffled further.  "Tell me, do we need to make
funeral arrangements, or is there anything left of Shampoo to
bother with?"

     There was a gasp around the table.

     Genma was the first to recover.  "What's this?" he asked. 
"What's going on?"

     Ranma turned to the others.  "Shampoo cast the blood spell,"
he said quietly.  "Nabiki got her and the old ghoul's confession
on tape.  I just went to see her, and she told me herself.  And
no, I didn't kill her or fight her or nothin'," he said, in
response to the stares he was receiving.  "But we're leaving for
China tomorrow morning.  She's going to find the dragon she got
the blood from.  She seems to think he's powerful enough that he
could remove the spell she cast with his blood.  And I'm going to
make sure it gets done right."

     There was a stunned silence as everyone digested what Ranma
said.

     "I'm coming with you, Ranma," said Ryoga.

     "Me too," said Ukyo.  She was in shock over all the
revelations of the evening.  She felt numb and heartsick over the
possibility that Ranma might be in love with someone else.  After
all, wasn't *she* his fiancee?  Sure, he'd never treated her as
more than just his childhood buddy, but she'd been so sure that
when he decided to make a decision, she'd win over Shampoo.  She
never thought she'd have to worry about either of the Tendo
sisters, since neither of them expressed any romantic interest in
Ranma.

     Except Nabiki.  Just that very afternoon.  And, apparently,
the third Tendo daughter that no one except Ranma remembered.

     She looked over at Nabiki to find that the girl was watching
her.  Her expression was easily read.  It said "Get used to it. 
I have."  Ukyo was amazed that the normally stone-faced girl
could be so expressive without words.

      She needed some time to think.  Her mind was whirling, and
her heart felt like it was in a vise.  But, in the meantime, she
wasn't going to let Ranma out of her sight.  "I'm coming with you
too, Ranchan."  

     "And I'm coming as well," said Nabiki.

     Ranma looked at her in surprise.

     She gave him a half-lidded glare.  "Honestly, Ranma, how
exactly do you plan on getting to China?  Were you planning on
swimming again?  I hate to say this, but you need my finances to
rescue my... sister."

     Ranma was struck speechless.  Nabiki was going to pay for
the trip?  "Uh, thanks, Nabiki."  He smiled.  "I owe you."

     She rolled her eyes.  "Don't I know it," she muttered
quietly.

     "Well then," said Ranma, not hearing her and turning to the
others, "those of you coming with me had better pack because
we're leaving first thing in the morning."

--------------------

     Ranma knelt next to his dresser, stuffing clothes and
supplies into his backpack with swift precision.

     Finally.  After a week of waiting, he was going to *do*
something.  He didn't feel so powerless now, knowing that a
solution was in sight.   And he would do whatever it took to make
that solution come about.

     Even face a dragon...

     His heart thumped in his chest in anticipation, and his blue
eyes were wide and anxious.  *Hold on, Akane.  I'm coming...*

     ...something prickled...

     Ranma tensed and looked up.

     *What the...*

     He looked around his empty room.

     Something... was trying to sneak up on him..?

     "Pop?"  His eyes narrowed, and he crouched as he felt...
*something* intrude on his senses again.  "If that's you, it
ain't funny.  I got no time to be playing around now."

     But no.  It didn't feel like Genma.

     Ranma frowned.

     It felt evil.

     Happosai, maybe?  Had he returned?

     *Oh man, I hope not.  I don't wanna deal with him right
now,* thought Ranma, peering through his dark bangs as he
extended his senses, trying to feel *what*...

     The spell voices whispered in the back of his mind,
scratching away at his mental barriers, disrupting his
concentration.  He growled in annoyance.  *Oh, be quiet,* he
thought.  *I'm gonna be rid of you soon enough, anyway...*

     **How true that is.**

     Ranma froze, his eyes wide.

     Silence.

     Then the color drained from his face as the strange, yet
terrifyingly familiar voice came into his mind again -- a voice
he recognized from his childhood nightmares.

     **Although you won't be rid of them the way you want...**

     Ranma found himself pressing his back against the corner
between the wall and his dresser, trying to shrink inside himself
as his deepest instincts shivered in primal terror.  

     "Take it slow," said a woman's voice, soft and sultry.  "We
don't want to put him out of his misery too soon.  You can have
him after I'm through with him."

     A soft, purring chuckle.

     The single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling shattered
with a sudden popping noise, plunging the room into darkness.

     *No!  I can't let this happen!  I have to find Akane!* 
Ranma forced himself to stand on trembling legs, his eyes staring
wildly in the dark, waiting for his worst fear to appear before
him.

     Instead, another image from his nightmares appeared.

     A shimmering portal appeared in the darkness before him, and
through it, like liquid, came the Snow Woman, her long white hair
flowing around her ice blue robes.  A cruel smile was on her cold
white lips.

     "Well, Ranma," she said, as the shimmering disappeared
behind her.  "We meet again."

     Ranma's eyes narrowed as he realized there was nothing in
the least bit feline about the apparition before him.  "You!" he
said, recognition flaring in his eyes.  He crouched in a battle
stance.  "You have Akane!"

     "My dear boy," she said lightly.  "You are jumping to all
the wrong conclusions.  Akane is not my prisoner.  She has stayed
with me of her own free will.  Not only that, but she desires to
stay with me always.  You see, as you probably already know, she
has forgotten all about you."

     Ranma clenched his jaw.  "You're lying," he said.  His
battle aura flared, and he began to build up his ki.  He was
going to blast this demon back to where she came from.

     "But I'm not.  Just as the Kami Plane made everyone here
forget her, so has she forgotten all of you."

     "Wrong!" said Ranma.  "*I* didn't forget her.  And I know
she hasn't forgotten me."

     The Snow Woman smirked.  "How typically egotistical of you. 
Of course *you* haven't forgotten her.  You have those spell
voices in your mind telling you that she's alive.  Otherwise, you
would have forgotten her, like all the rest."

     Ranma's eyes widened, and his battle aura flickered with
uncertainty.  "No," he said through clenched teeth.  "That's not
true.  I remember her because I... love her."

     "Her father loved her," the Snow Woman said softly, her eyes
narrowed.  "Her sisters loved her.  Your friend, Ryoga, loved
her..."

     Ranma blinked, stunned as he realized...  He felt tears
build behind his eyes, and his chest felt tight.  He clenched his
fists.  "No..."

     "It hurts, doesn't it?  Yes, I'm afraid it's true.  Your...
love... is not the binding link you thought it was.  But I'm not
here to torture you, Ranma," she said with a half smile.  "I'm
actually here on a mission of mercy."  She glided towards him,
her ice blue eyes sparkling, her white arms outstretched.  "I've
come to silence those voices in your head.  I've come to put you
out of your misery.  I've come to help you forget her..."

     Ranma stared at the Snow Woman, horrified.  She was lying. 
She had to be.  Akane hadn't forgotten him...

     "Akane has no desire to return to you.  In fact, she's
happier now than she ever was with you.  She's stronger, more
confident..."  She tossed her shimmering hair.  "You needn't
worry about her.  She is quite content.  After all, you only made
her miserable."

     "No..." Ranma glared at her, trembling, fighting back tears
as she drew closer.  But deep in the part of his soul where his
darkest fears lay, he felt she was right...

     "Yes.  Can you honestly think of a time when you've made
Akane truly happy?  Without shattering her pleasure with some
unthinking remark?"  The Snow Woman smiled at the look on Ranma's
face.  "You are nothing to her, Ranma," she said.  "She does not
love you."

     Ranma's ki burned the blue-green of despair.  "D-damn you."

     The Snow Woman stretched out her arms, her long white
fingers mere inches from his face.  "Ah, such pain," she said
softly, her breath an icy whisper.  "Come to me.  I can help make
it all go away."  And she went to touch him.

     Ranma blinked.  Then he moved so swiftly, he was a blur,
leaping and flipping over the pale apparition to land behind her. 
"No way!" he shouted.  She gasped and turned, her eyes blazing
with fury, to see the blur of his fist moving towards her face...

     Ranma intended to use his ki-fueled punch to send the white
demon back to the Kami Plane...

     But she wasn't there.  Or rather, his fist moved through
her, as if it were passing through a cold mist.  He blinked, and
she smiled at him as he pulled his arm from her ethereal form. 
And then, a stunned moment later, he felt her very solid, icy
fingers on his throat...

     "Foolish boy," she said, amused.  "You think I wouldn't
prepare for your mortal tricks?  I became intimately acquainted
with your ki on my last visit.  You can do nothing to me that I
cannot avoid.  In fact, you've made it so much easier..."

     Ranma felt a flash of bitter cold emanate from the Snow
Woman's hand and spread over his entire body the instant before
he pried her fingers from his throat.  He cried out, then slumped
to the floor, shivering.  He was surprised when, after a moment,
the cold feeling passed.

     "Wh-what did you do?" he asked, glaring fiercely at her as
he pushed himself to his feet.

     "Nothing much.  I just added a little something to your ki. 
Something that will make whatever liquid that touches you, no
matter how hot, turn cold before it touches your skin."

     The Snow Woman smirked at the horrified, angry expression
spreading across Ranma's face.  Yes, he understood what she had
done.  That was just how he looked after he discovered the power
of the Chiisuiton...

     And, my, he certainly could throw off a bright battle aura. 
The blue-greens that swirled in the glowing ball of energy he was
forming in his hands were blinding...

     "*Shishi Houkodan!*"  The cry tore itself from Ranma's
throat, and the blast hit the Snow Woman dead on.

     The sheer strength and fury of it caught her by surprise. 
She was burning.  Ranma's ki blast tore at her being.  She could
feel herself breaking apart, and barely had time to reinforce the
protective barriers around her before she lost herself...

     Ranma sank to his knees, shaking, and looked out the
smouldering hole he had created in the side of the house.  The
Snow Woman lay, somewhat blackened, on the grass against the wall
of the yard.  She wasn't moving, and he wondered if he'd killed
her...

     But no, she was moving.  He could see waves of energy
flowing into her from the ground and the air, as if she was
pulling the cold of the chilly spring night into her body. 
Sitting up, she tilted at odd angles, like a broken doll. Then
slowly, as the energy flowed to her, she began straightening...

     He could hear the shouts of alarm from the Tendos as they
raced up the stairs to see what was going on.

     Nabiki tried to open his door, but it wouldn't budge.  She
pounded.  "Ranma!  Are you okay?  What's going on in there?!"

     Ranma wearily turned to answer..

     *splash*

     ... and found himself female, and spluttering from the cold
water that just drenched him.

     **Well, what do you know.  She did it.  That water was hot
enough for tea.**

     More pounding.  "Ranma, answer me!"

     But he couldn't.  Because his mouth was dry, his limbs were
frozen, and his mind was shrieking with terror as the Shadowcat,
who had just appeared in the room, padded up to him, its yellow
eyes narrowed to glowing slits, its dark ki flickering about its
form like black flames.

     **Ah, you remember me.  I'm flattered.**  It extended its
claws and reached out towards Ranma's pale, trembling form. 
**You're my favorite, you know.  I've never had one as strong as
you.  And now, thanks to the lovely Yuki-onna sending me here
through her magic mirror, I can be with you always.**  The demon
bared its needle-sharp teeth in a parody of a smile.

     In the past five minutes, Ranma had experienced the full
spectrum of fear.  On one end of the spectrum, the esoteric, yet
very real fears of losing Akane, of losing his manhood.  Of
losing his reasons for existing.  Now, on the other side of the
spectrum, he felt the deep primal terror that had plagued man
from the beginning of time.  Terror of things that dwelled in the
dark; of pain, sharp and sweet.

     Terror of losing himself to the darkness.

     He felt the now-familiar feeling of his mind fleeing
unwillingly before his fear, leaving behind something... less. 
Different.  Him, but not.

     A small, strangled cry was the only noise he made as the
Shadowcat came up to his twitching form, and pressed its forehead
against his.

     Ryoga shattered the door down with a smashing, splintering
of wood.  He burst into Ranma's room, calling his name, followed
closely by Nabiki, Ukyo, Soun and Genma.  They gaped at the sight
of the huge demon cat pressing its forehead against onna-Ranma's
as she knelt, frozen, her eyes wide, her pupils and irises
seeming to shrink in the wild whiteness that filled them, her
hands curling into paws.

     *The Shadowcat was right,* thought Ranma as he felt words
leaving him.  Language was slipping away... *I can't hear the
spell voices anymore...*

     *...Akane...*

     And Ranma yowled.

     "Get away from him!"  Ryoga formed a ball of ki energy in
his hands and blasted it at the Shadowcat.

     The Shadowcat simply faded away before the blast could reach
it.  The blast passed in front of Ranma, and she turned,
arching her back and hissing at the astonished group, her eyes
wild and empty.  Then she turned and fled with inhuman speed on
all fours out the hole in the wall just enlarged by Ryoga's
blast.

     "Ranma!  Come back!"

     But she was gone.  Over the wall and into the night in a few
graceful leaps.

     Ranma's friends stared after him in dismay.  None of them
noticed the woman, the color of bleached bone, who faded away in
the yard below, her cold laughter echoing through the wind.

--------------------

     The mists parted reluctantly, but, as Akane emerged from the
clinging wisps, she was grateful to see that the realm she was
entering wasn't as... dark... as the last few she'd visited. 
Chances were, that meant this wasn't a demon's abode.

     She turned to Masakazu.  "Well?  Do you recognize this
place?  Do you think whoever lives here will help me?"

     The tengu shook his head.  "I'm afraid I don't know this
place.  But it feels like the dwelling of an upper-level spirit,
who might have power enough to break the blood spell.  We can
try."

     Akane sighed and brushed her dark bangs from her eyes
wearily.  "We've been trying for over two weeks now," she said
irritably.  "So far, all we've encountered are beings who either
want to kill me, marry me, or are just too snobbish to bother
with a 'mere mortal' like me."  She grimaced.  "This is gonna
take forever."

     Masakazu chuckled.  "Don't worry, Akane-chan.  The Kami
Plane is a vast realm, much larger than the mortal world.  I'm
sure we'll find someone who will help--"

     Akane gasped suddenly, and pressed her hand to her heart,
her eyes wide.

     "What's wrong?" the tengu asked, concerned.

     Akane's brown eyes were tearing.  She looked at her sensei,
her face pale.  "I... I don't know.  I felt something just now... 
Like... like I lost something."  She swallowed.  "I feel...
hollow..."

     A small, scared feeling was building in her stomach as she
slowly recognized the hollow feeling.  It was the same feeling
she'd felt when she first became trapped in the Kami Plane.  It
was the same feeling she felt as she watched Ranma fade away from
her sight as the blood spell separated them not once, but
twice...

     Her eyes filled with terror.  "Sensei!  Something's happened
to Ranma!"

     But the tengu wasn't listening.  His black eyes were
narrowed as he peered at her ki.  The blood spell seemed normal,
except...

     ...except the tiny wisp of dragon blood that served as the
transdimensional connection between Ranma and Akane was
dissolving...

     *Yuki-onna...* he thought sadly.  *What have you done?*

     "We have to help him, sensei!"  Akane was frantic.

     The tengu closed his eyes.  Akane's time in the Kami Realm
had made her perceptive.  But then, maybe her instinctive
knowledge of what happened to Ranma had nothing to do with the
powers of the Kami realm...

     Akane took him by the shoulders, taking his silence for
reluctance.  "Please," she begged, tears streaming down her
face.  "I can't go to him!  But you can, I know it!  You can go
to the mortal plane and help Ranma!"

     "Akane."  He sighed.  "I am forbidden..."

     "I don't care!  You have to!"  She began to break down into
sobs.  "P-please...  If you don't... I'll lose him.  I can feel
it."

     The tengu turned away from her.  He hated to see her cry. 
But for him to go against the significant powers that were
against him...  To venture back into the mortal realm...

     *Damn.*

     "All right, Akane-chan.  I'll try."  He turned to see the
hopeful smile break through Akane's tears.

     *And may Kami-sama have mercy on us both.*

--------------------

End of Part Twelve