Cleaning Up


Ranko woke up shortly before the dawn, several hours after Ranma took
over watching from Ryouga after summoning three demons for him to fight.
Lacking the avatars' Neko abilities, he did not have the capacity to
shred the demons once he grew bored with them, so when she awoke he was
still toying with the last one.

Ranma pulled her into his lap and began describing Ryouga's efforts
against the demons. "He does pretty well without any ki techniques but
the lack seems to put him at a disadvantage. We'll need to do something
about that."

"I would have expected his strength in that form would have been
sufficient," Ranko commented, watching Ryouga's lupine form as he
launched driven, punishing kicks and punches. He seemed in total control.

"How long has he been at it?"

"Nearly four hours now. His stamina was always pretty good but it seems
to have been enhanced quite a bit by his new form, or the healing, one
or the other."

"Does that bother you?" she asked, "I know you were pleased when
Fey-sama assured you his changes were not gifts, without price or
requirement."

"No, not really. I had already guessed that the speeded healing would
improve my stamina. I was more concerned about my skill." He sighed,
running his hand lightly along the outside of her leg as he watched
Ryouga skid across the ground after a hard blow from the last demon. "I
wouldn't mind learning a new art, even something forgotten that only the
gods still know. I just wouldn't care for having the knowledge put in my
head without me actually learning it, if you see what I mean."

Ranko nodded, putting her hand on his. "I guess so. I don't know that I
would mind learning new spells without spending the effort, but I..."
She paused, wondering whether it would be safe, considering his state of
mind, to tell him how she had felt when she realized, going into the
town where she had picked up supplies, that she had leapt to the roof
instead of rising with a spell, due to his memories. Or after she had
blown imaginary smoke of off a gun after lighting the fire in front of
Ryouga with a touch of magic, when she had never before so much as seen
a pistol.

Ranma turned his attention from Ryouga back to her, turning his hand
over to grasp hers. "But what?" he asked softly.

She sighed. "Sometimes I feel like I'm losing myself, when I do
something as if by instinct or habit, something I would never have done,
something I know must come from you, from the memories Fey gave me."

Ranma put his arms around her and pulled her close, rocking slightly as
he dipped his head to plant a kiss on her crimson locks. "You won't lose
yourself," he said. "Fey wouldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let him.
I'd make him take the memories back before I'd let that happen."

Ranko shook her head violently, accidentally cracking Ranma in the jaw,
though she barely noticed. "No, no! Don't do that, don't even think
that! I don't ever want to know less of you than I do know. Only more,
only ever more."

Below them, Ryouga finally tired of playing around, wonderful though it
was to have an opponent that he could fight without having to hold back.
He could add no more strength to his blows; he had been fighting at full
power, that being much of the thrill. Instead, he shifted tactics,
moving from punishing body blows and limb breaking, to lethal strikes.

A short series of moves later, the demon lay dead at his feet and
Ryouga, responding once more to inner urges whose source was both new
and obvious, threw back his head and greeted the dawn with a long howl
of victory. The last of the demons crumpled into dust as its essence
fled the plane.

"He looks happy," Ranko said, grinning.

Ranma nodded. "He's happier than I remember him being at school. Being
able to find his way means a lot to him, and being able to fight without
having to hold back is a thrill for both of us, but I think part of it
was a suggestion I made last night."

Ranko looked up at him curiously, but said nothing, wanting Ranma to
continue without prompting. A moment later, with a hopeful grin, he did.
"He mentioned that his new-found ability to get around is of limited
usefulness, since most people won't react well to his current form. I
suggested that you, or if it was beyond you, Fey, could probably find a
way to grant him the wolf's senses in human form, or that he might even
manage to do it himself, the way we can take just that much of the
Neko-ken."

"Well, it's not exactly like he's a student of a wolf-based martial art,
but I suspect you're right, whether through a partial transformation, or
through some additional magic... but I don't think his sense of smell is
quite all of it."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioned something earlier about magnetism? I
didn't really understand it, but I figured between you and Fey we could
come up with something to help him."

Ranko nodded, looking back at Ryouga, just as he leapt to the rooftop.
"I suspect you're probably right."

"About what?" queried Ryouga, walking over to them brushing futilely at
the black demon blood that now matted his fur. 

"About finding some way to give you a sense of direction without
requiring a visible or obvious change in form."

"Really?" Ryouga brightened at the thought, losing interest in his fur.
"You really think it's possible?"

"After what we've seen the Lord Fey do? I've no doubt that it's possible."

"Yechh," interjected Ranma. "Your fur is a mess!" 

Ryouga looked down at himself as Ranko laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is,"
he said, looking up with a grin. "But you ought to see the other guy!"

Ranma chuckled, then suggested that Ryouga shift back to his natural
form and see if that got rid of any of the blood. "At the least, it
should be easier to get clean that way. If you do manage to get lost,
just change back and sniff us out. Or howl. I wonder what the villagers
thought of your howl last night. I think that probably carries a long
way."

Ryouga nodded and muttered under his breath, shrinking suddenly as he
lost both mass, fur, and height. He pulled his shirt away, looking down
at himself, and turned slightly green. "Uhm... I think I'm gonna go look
for a shower, there should be one not being used."

"Hold on a moment," said Ranma, turning to Ranko. "Will you be okay by
yourself for a minute while I help Ryouga find a working shower?"

Ranko nodded. "Most of my strength is back... but remind me, when you
get back, that I have something of Ryouga's to return to him."

"Will do," agreed Ranma, leaping from the rooftop, knees flexing
slightly as he hit the ground and looked up again. He groaned when he
saw Ryouga jump off the wrong side of the roof. 

He hurried around the building as he heard Ryouga shout, "Where'd you
go, Ranma?"

"I'm right here," Ranma laughed as he rounded the building. He grabbed
Ryouga's shoulder. "Come on, let's find a shower for you."

Ryouga glared at his friend. "You could use one yourself, you know."

"Fine, if there's any hot water when you're done, I'll take one after
you."

"Ranko should have first shot at the hot water," protested Ryouga, but
Ranma just laughed.

"Not only can she get clean with her magic, but there is an entire
village of currently unused houses here, Ryouga. Surely there will be
more than one with hot water."

"Don't be too sure," groused Ryouga, looking around at the unkempt
buildings, "I wouldn't be surprised if none of them do."

Ranma shook his head, laughing again. "Don't be so down, Ryouga. If
there's no hot water, then I'll cast a spell to heat it."

Ryouga turned and looked at Ranma with wide eyes, and stammered,
"Sh...shouldn't you let Ranko do that?"

Ranma grinned at his friend. "Don't worry, I'm getting better." Ryouga
shivered and didn't answer, the mental image of the small black pig
racing around a huge pot, darting back and forth to avoid the grasping
arms of demons, running through his head again.

---

"Well?" Bastet turned to Shen Long. "They defeated the youma without any
great difficulty. Is your test finished?"

Shen Long shook his head and grinned. "No, dear goddess, in fact,
defeating the youma was never one of the tests at all!"

Bastet growled softly and picked up a fallen chunk of stone, hefting it
warningly. "You wouldn't mind explaining yourself, would you, Shen
Long?" she asked sweetly, as her hand drifted back into a throwing
position.

"No, no, of course not," laughed Shen Long. "There was never any
question that they could defeat the youma. The test was one of
perception and compassion. Would they perceive that the man was
possessed? And on learning of it, would they free him, or finish him
anyway, knowing that he was the one responsible for the youma's presence?"

"So they passed," stated Bastet, eyeing him.

Shen Long nodded. "Sufficient to deserve rewarding, but they have not
left the village yet. They may yet earn even greater rewards."

Bastet hmmphed and turned away. The fight had been at least mildly
interesting to watch, particularly in the way the boy used the forbidden
techniques; most surprising being that he was able to use them in a
non-lethal fashion.

As for the rest of the night, well, watching angst-ridden teens stare at
each other was not exactly riveting.

---

Ranko sat in silence as she waited for the two boys to return. It would
probably be a while. She expected Ranma would bathe after Ryouga was
done. She raised her hand and flame curled about one finger. She huffed,
and blew it out. Well, she was recovered, basically, though the spell
had not had quite the scale she had envisioned.

Then again, was that such a bad thing? Not that it had taken as much out
of her as it had, but that its scale had been limited. They did not want
to attract the attention of their enemies prematurely.

Rising lithely to her feet, Ranko mulled over Ranma's memories until she
found a slow, low-stress kata. As she entered the first stance, she
wondered whether her thought was right or not. Waiting the full thirty
years would give them the most time to prepare and build a strong team,
yet it would also give the enemy time to prepare, and in thirty years
he, they knew, had a force beyond any of earth's defenders.

"That's it!" she crowed happily, spinning around with eyes wide open.
There was no-one there to share her epiphany with, however, and though
for just a moment she felt the urge to seek them out anyway, she quickly
reconsidered. They would return soon enough and it was best if she not
place any more stress on Ranma just now.

Suddenly afraid that without anyone there to tell, she would forget, she
darted over to where Ryouga had set their packs. There was little, if
anything to write on in Ranma's pack, she knew, and she herself had not
purchased anything to write on or with when in town obtaining supplies.
She sat back on her heels, looking at Ryouga's pack thoughtfully, before
shaking her head.

With a quick spell, she summoned a pen and a pad of paper. She looked
the pen over curiously. Wholly unfamiliar to her, Ranma's uses of them
were few and far enough between that his memories held little in the way
of explanation. A few quick trials sorted it out though, and in moments
the idea was out of her head and on paper. As she reread what she had
written, she sat back, her eyes widening as a deep sigh of relief stole
from her lips. She had written in the Mandarin script of her childhood,
not in Japanese.

Filled with a new sense of well-being, Ranko turned and leaned back
against the backpacks, propping the little notebook, with its white,
unlined pages staring blankly back at her, on her knees, and began to
take notes.

She jotted down each of the events the villagers had described. There
was little they could do about some of them; she had no desire to
attempt to revive the dead. Aside from the idea's own abhorrence, she
feared to draw the attention of death, lest it realize that her own
life's span had come due so many long years ago.

Their crop should be safe now, the pestilence destroyed, but they really
ought to check, since they had only the word of a youma that it was so.
If not, then the fields should be burned to make way for new growth.
That would need trenches for firebreaks, and water to wet down the near
buildings to protect them, or spells to keep in stray embers.

The animals should be well now, though some might need to be put down.
If any were not, healing spells should take care of that. There was also
the issue of the village's health as a whole, though. With poor and
sometimes dangerous food and little of worth from which to derive an
income, ill health would likely be the norm.

They could attempt to heal each person individually, but they were
supposed to be making their way to the coast. There had to be some
alternative. Though swift healing could be passed on through their bite,
they had sworn not to so gift any who would not fight by their sides in
defense of the planet. These were people who had cowered in their homes
for a year while under assault by one man possessed!

Besides, warriors of Shen Long they might seem to the villagers now, but
she doubted that would last beyond the first attempt to drink their blood.

A whuffling sound nearby caught her attention, drawing it away from her
writings, and a moment later Ryouga, his fur glinting in the light as it
lay in wet clumps, sticking up here and there, rose above the eaves to
settle on the roof.

He whuffed again, like a barking cough, and a shiver ran down him,
spraying water for several feet around him. He noticed Ranko when she
stood up and gave her an apologetic glance, though the water had not
quite reached her.

She put away her pen and pad in her pack then turned back to him.
"Alright, Ryouga, turn back human so we can get you dry. You don't want
to smell of wet wolf all day, do you?"

Ryouga shook his head sheepishly, shrinking back into himself, while at
the same time almost seeming to glow as glistening, lightly tanned skin
took the place of dark wet fur. "I had to use my nose to get back," he
said, still apologetic.

"I know," Ranko said, "now hold still for a moment while I figure out
the words." Mmm, she thought to herself as she tried not to ogle his
hard muscles glowing with health and reflected sunlight, I hope Ranma
comes up topless, too.

Ryouga had to take a step back to brace against the warm breeze that
gusted forth past Ranko's raised hands. He turned slowly, making a full
circle before lowering his shaggy head and shaking it back and forth,
letting the wind play through his thick locks.

The breeze died down and Ryouga ran a hand through his slightly damp
hair. "Thanks, Ranko," he said, before sprouting fur once more. He
looked down and brushed his hand over the fur on his chest. "This is
pretty nice," he said as if surprised, "like always having a warm coat
with you."

"Where do you think fur coats come from?" Ranko teased.

Ryouga snorted, looking offended. "Nobody better try to make a fur coat
outta me," he growled. "Or I'll turn 'em into a leather suitcase!"

Ranko just nodded. He noticed her gaze seemed somewhat fixed and he
followed it only to blush furiously. "R-Ranko?" he stammered.

She looked up and grinned, showing fangs and he gulped. She took in his
flushed expression and giggled. "No, no, Ryouga. I wasn't looking there,
honest! I was thinking about your legs."

Ryouga fell over in a dead faint. Ranko hmmphed. "That didn't come out
right," she muttered.

"I'll say," said Ranma from right behind her. She yelped and he laughed.
"Let me guess. You were thinking about getting him to try and get more
human legs as the first step to having just the wolf's senses, right?"

Ranko turned around, eyes wide. Her mouth dropped when she realized that
Ranma was still shirtless, his rough cotton shirt draped over his left
shoulder. Ranko nodded, trying not to drool. "Yeah, but he..."

"I can see," interrupted Ranma. "Poor idiot." His eyes darkened for a
moment. "We'll have to find somebody for him. He's a lot like I was," he
continued, looking into Ranko's eyes, "before I met you. How easy he
gets lost, I don't think he's ever really talked to a girl before."

Ranko nodded. "You might be right. But I don't think we're going to find
anybody out here. Anyway, now that you're back, I could do with a bath
myself. Was there hot water left?"

Ranma shook his head. "No, Ryouga had the right idea there. From what I
saw, they don't shower, they bathe, and they still get hot water by
heating it on a stove or fire, I guess. No running water at all that I
could find. I didn't exactly expect a proper furo, but most of the
places we've been had hot water, whether for a shower or a bath."

"Oh well," she replied. "I've had some time to recoup what I spent. I
think I've enough to handle a bit of hot water." She shook her head and
laughed softly. "Besides, I've never experienced a hot shower or a furo,
except in your memories. The closest I've come was bathing at a hot
spring."

Ranma chuckled with her, one hand rising to tug thoughtfully at his
braid. "Yeah, I guess I wasn't thinking about when you were last around.
You'll do fine here, but wait till I get you in a furo. You'll really
enjoy that." A moment later his face turned beet red as another
interpretation of his words hit him. Ranko just laughed as she leapt
from the roof, the sound of his sputtered apology diminishing behind
her.

Ranma turned back to Ryouga, lying sprawled uncomfortably on the
rooftop. He walked over to the unconscious boy and rolled him over,
grinning. "Idiot," he said wryly, "you just took a shower and here you
are behaving like a mop."

He took a quick look around then chuckled softly. "Looks like you're in
luck, buddy. I don't see any ponds to toss you in to wake you up." He
eyed the pig sty thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Nah. You did just
get clean." So saying, he proceeded to slap Ryouga's face lightly back
and forth, his hand making quiet thuds against Ryouga's furry muzzle,
until the half-wolf shook his head vigorously, as if warding off a fly,
and swept his arm through the air. Ranma drifted out of Ryouga's
flailing arm's way with casual ease, then sat back on his haunches as
Ryouga groaned and straightened, the fur over his stomach rippling in
the pre-dawn light as his stomach muscles flexed in a clean, unaided
sit-up.

Ranma slapped Ryouga's leg, catching his attention. "When we transform,
wolf-boy, our legs come out different depending on how deep we go. I go
further cause of, well, you know... and so my legs look like yours.
Ranko doesn't go so far, and her legs come out pretty human... just
stronger, and furry. What she was saying was you oughta work on getting
more human legs as a step to getting you walking around looking like
something other than a movie monster."

"Deep?" questioned Ryouga, a puzzled look in his lupine eyes.

"Yes, deep. It all depends on how far we go in embracing the cat. I
dunno, though, you might even be able to do it just with picturing it
right, since that's what makes the difference between the full wolf form
and the half-wolf."

Ryouga nodded and muttered under his breath, his features receding, the
visible fur vanishing. "All right, now... how do I control how far...
sorry, how deep I go?"

Ranma grinned. "Heck if I know, dog-boy! You're gonna have'ta figure
that out yourself."

"Some help you are," Ryouga growled, baring his teeth at Ranma. Having
no idea how to control how deep he was, particularly since he had no
real sense of the wolf when not in lupine form, Ryouga decided to try
the visualization method. He groaned unhappily a moment later, shaking
his head. "I can't even picture what I look like like that in the first
place," he complained.

Ranma smirked at him. "Great sense of self you've got there," he jibed,
before shaking his head. "Not to worry, wolf-boy, I've got the answer.
I'll just throw up an illusion of what you look like." So saying he
muttered and wiggled his hands a bit, and sure enough, an image appeared
between them.

Ryouga's eyes bugged out for a moment as he choked. Snarling, he leapt
through the mangy, bedraggled, and corpulent image of himself, driving
his fist into Ranma's stomach. But Ranma wasn't there, having already
slipped to the side. A nudge to his leg from Ranma's foot, giving his
momentum just a little aid, and Ryouga was once more sprawled across the
tiles.

He pounded the roof in irritation and Ranma tsked when several tiles
came loose and shifted about beneath him as he stood. "Bad form, Ryouga,
damaging the property of people you're supposed to be helping. It was
just a joke."

With a furrowed brow, Ranma concentrated on the tiles and murmured under
his breath. Ryouga leapt away as they moved with definite purpose
beneath him. "Shouldn't you let Ranko do that?" he queried, knowing that
she was better with the complicated magics, and remembering his smoking,
sulfurous pack after Ranma had accidentally used demonic magic to summon
it.

"Nah, I got it. 'Sides, I got to get used to it, too. Ain't fair to make
her do it all."

"And if you screw it up, she can fix it, eh?"

"Right," Ranma said with a grin, then gestured at the roof, "but she
won't need to."

Ryouga nodded, seeing that there was no sign of the damage he had
inflicted there. "So can you give me a proper image to use now?" he
asked sourly.

"Yeah, sure," Ranma said, dismissing the earlier image with a wave of
his hand, it having been undisturbed by Ryouga's earlier flight through
it. One more murmured spell later, and a proper image of a half-wolf
Ryouga was floating in the air between them.

Ranma shook his head. "I'm an idiot," he muttered, then shot Ryouga a
glare when the other boy agreed with him. He murmured again and the
image's legs straightened out and thickened slightly, becoming more
human. "If I'm gonna give you an image, I might as well give you one
that will actually get you closer, eh?"

"That's great, Ranma," Ryouga said gratefully, staring at the image.
"Wow, do I really look that tough?"

"Yeah, probably to one of the local nobodys," Ranma jibed. "You don't
look so tough to me."

Ryouga ignored him, focusing on the image and trying to hold it in his
mind. He uttered the activation phrase. The change washed over him, and
he looked down, then gave a disappointed sigh. Not waiting for Ranma to
chivvy him onward, he dropped the transformation and focused on the
image again.

Ranma nodded inwardly. Ryouga could hardly have become the skilled
martial artist he was, especially given his inability to stick to one
spot for long, without a determination bordering on obsession. He
watched as the change flickered over Ryouga again, and then again.

Noting something, he shifted to the side and moved a little closer. He
watched as the change progressed again, noted the height of Ryouga's
hocks. Ryouga dropped back to human and then returned to wolf-form, and
Ranma nodded thoughtfully. Ryouga's hocks were dropping, getting slowly
closer to the ground, where a human's ankles would be.

Ranma sat back, relieved and grateful that Ranko's advice had not been
in vain.

Finally he rolled to his feet and walked over to the still form of
Jiaohou and knelt beside him. "How long are you gonna sleep," he murmured
to himself. He glanced back at Ryouga. "Not that waking up right now
would be a good idea, though."

The man definitely looked sickly in spite of being free of possession.
Yao Mo Wen had clearly not been overly concerned about the health of his
vessel. Then again, he had been possessed for years and he was still
alive, so perhaps Yao Mo Wen had taken more care than Ranma had been
willing to credit.

"Need to see if Ranko's strong enough for a light healing spell when she
gets back. Don't want you dying on us, before . . ."

Ranma fell silent and sat, thinking. What was going to happen to Jiaohou,
after the villagers returned? He remembered his thoughts about Jiaohou's
complicity when they were entering the village the first time,
discussing the possiblity of burning Yao Mo Wen out. Ranko had pointed
out that he might have done little more than try to get his loved one
back. Would he, Ranma, have done any less?

Knowing that it was possible and knowing that it was true were far from
the same thing, however. Trusting to Jiaohou's words or refusing to was
practically the same decision, unless he should choose to incriminate
himself. Would the villagers, who had suffered at Wen's hands, be any
more willing to see Jiaohou's potential innocence of many of the crimes
they laid at his feet than he, who had judged the man harshly without
ever knowing him, or even seeing him?

"What is right?" Ranma asked himself in a puzzled tone. "Do we have the
right to stop their justice? Do we have the right to leave him to it
if it won't be just?"