Rising Consequences


Ranma was momentarily taken aback, but once more remembered words from
Nabiki's training saved him. "When any denial will be taken as proof of
guilt, admit to it first, then qualify. It can do no more harm and may
throw them off-balance."

"Yes, of course I did," he said stoutly, speaking carefully to keep his
sudden anger at the preposterous accusation from someone he had expected
to trust him from leading him off-course. "After all, I had to find out
why I had been thrown out of the only home I've ever known without
reason or explanation!" He glared at Soun and his father, putting all of
his remembered pain and anger at Nabiki's words that morning into his
gaze.

They gave back and Soun began wailing. Akane, who had by now reached the
gate, simply stared at the pair with a pained look, from which Nabiki
flinched. Ranma did not notice, his attention focused on Soun and Genma.

"I did not change my name, Tendo-san, but I cannot say, given the speed
with which," he let all his pain sound out in his next few words, both
to forestall any overswift reaction, and as a deliberate slap in the
face at his father, remembering the reason he had deduced for Genma's
claim that men did not show emotion, in spite of his own emotional
displays, "all of you leapt to conclusions and how easily you believed
that I had abandoned my honor, that I any longer bear the least regret
that it happened. I did not change my name, but it has been changed." He
looked hard at Genma. "I am no longer your son, Saotome Genma, in
fulfillment of the deathbed wish of my mother's father."

He set Nabiki down gently then stepped back as Genma moved forward,
mouth open to speak. Ranma held up his hand and barked, "No! You will
listen, for once in your life. Be silent!" His last words held the force
of his ki and stilled his father's advance.

"You left me no way out, old man. You constantly harped on honor... Shut
up!" He was shouting now, his emotions too strong to be contained after
he finally allowed them release. "You constantly harped on honor, yet
you put me in a situation where any action on my part would destroy my
honor and the honor of two other families! You did nothing to fix any of
it, when you were the only one who could!" Tears were trickling down his
cheeks from the force of his emotions, making everyone present gape at
him. Saotome Ranma did not cry, yet there was no denying the tears
falling from his eyes. "I tell you now, Genma, that I was not far from
taking my own life; seppuku was the only option," he took a deep breath
and place intense emphasis on his next word, "I had that did not involve
destroying someone's honor!"

Genma again moved to speak and again Ranma beat him to the punch. "Shut
up! You lost your right to have any say in my life the first time you
sold me! Don't get any damned ideas in your head about forcing me back,
you damned flea-ridden bastard!" Ranma snarled, "just remember Jusendo.
Remember Saffron. I will not be your scapegoat any longer!" 

With that, he turned and raced away, engaging his dual vortexes to avoid
any possibility of pursuit, tears streaming down his face, ki flickering
about his clenched fist. He had to flee, or he would have lost control
and attacked Genma then and there. He left behind him a family confused
and hurting and stunned by disbelief. Most of all, he left behind a
father who had already had the foundations of his world torn from
beneath him by the apparent defection and rejection of the son he had
raised to be wholly dependent upon him, and who had been shaken to his
foundation once more by the discovery that his child had actually been
contemplating seppuku.

Genma had never really considered the position he had placed his son in
as such a difficult thing, for he himself only paid lipservice to honor.
He valued his own life above all else and kept agreements only as it
pleased him. The agreement he had made with his wife, on which both his
and his son's life were dependent, had not been made with any intent to
hold to its terms. That his son might actually be so honorable as to be
unable to break an agreement, and actually willing to kill himself
before doing so, came as a profound shock to the man who had made a
living of selling his own child.

Ranma was exhausted when he finally made it to the park and his small
tent and he wasted no time crawling into it and falling asleep. He was,
for him, unusually lucky in having released his new technique at the
edge of the park. Had he maintained it to his very campsite, he, and not
the park's edge, would have been the focus that night of the irritable
Sailor Senshi, roused once more from comfortable sleep by the warnings
of Mercury's computer.

---

Sailor Mars growled in frustration as she paced beside the wall. She
could not fault Mercury for calling them, not when she could feel the
strength of the ki lingering in the air, but she hated the uselessness
of coming out only to find nothing happening.

Jupiter leaned against a tree, scowling, while Mercury stared at her
computer. Sailor Moon yawned vigorously then blushed as she looked
around to see if anyone noticed. She was saved from her own
embarrassment by Mercury, who looked up just then and snapped her
computer closed.

"It came from Nerima," she said. "We got here in time, this time. The
trace did not have enough time to degrade."

Jupiter straightened, moving away from the tree. "So what's that mean?
How come nothing's happened? So it came from Nerima, but where is it now?"

Mercury shook her head. "I don't know... the trace just... ends. I've
pinpointed the other end of it. We might find something there, but it is
a considerable distance, well into Nerima."

Mars frowned and shook her head. This was only the second time they had
encountered it, but she was worried. "It might be a lure," she said, "or
a..."

"A dead lemming?" interjected Venus, nodding. "That makes sense."

"I think you meant red herring," replied Mercury, after a moment's
thought during which the other Senshi had simply looked at each other in
puzzlement.

"Whatever," responded Venus brightly.

Mars considered the feeling lingering on the air for several minutes,
before commenting to Mercury, "Something's missing... there was
something else last time."

Mercury studied her computer for a minute before nodding. "There was a
trace of negative energy last time; there's not one this time, even
though the reading itself is stronger and more recent."

"Does that mean it's not an enemy?" asked Moon hopefully.

"No," Mercury replied, before Mars could insult Moon and begin another
argument. "But it might mean that this trace wasn't produced by the same
source as the last one."

"Or the trace could be from something that is doing less obvious
draining," Mars interjected. "You know, maybe it drew from someplace
where there were more negative emotions last time."

Mercury tapped her fingernail against the screen of the Mercury Computer
thoughtfully. "That could be it... maybe this park is where they open a
portal to take the energy back..."

They discussed the possibility for several minutes before conceding that
they would not be able to solve the problem that night, and dispersed.
Rei decided she would have to do a fire reading when she got home from
school the next day. Maybe she could find out if there was a real threat
or not.

At the very least, Mercury had said it would require several more
readings before she would be able to predict the next occurrence, if it
was any pattern to be used. Maybe a fire reading could give them a hint
so they could put an end to this plot sooner.

---

In spite of getting to sleep quite late the night before, Ranma awoke
just before dawn. He groaned at that, but knew that he would not be able
to get back to sleep. Sleeping late was possible in the Dojo largely
because he felt safe there. Not from knowing that he would not be
attacked, but from knowing how he would be attacked, and by whom, people
he had never considered real threats. Back in the open, without the
security of knowing that his father was nearby and would awaken him, he
felt more vulnerable than he had in a long time.

Sighing at the necessity, he got up and spent about fifteen minutes
stretching, then he returned to his tent. One of the exercises he had
yet to try from the scroll of the Void and the Flame was one for a
meditative rest. The scroll was old and clearly from a time when being a
martial artist meant facing life or death challenges, which had been
relatively rare in Ranma's life, for all his enemies' proclamations to
the contrary. Those who had taught and learned it had needed to know how
to obtain maximum rest for the body and mind, while remaining alert
enough to not be killed in their sleep.

Some of Genma's techniques were not so different. Ranma would
automatically defend himself in his sleep, awakening only if a threat
was beyond his skill. But given Genma's propensity for pleasure,
techniques that allowed one to go without sleep or food had never been
terribly high on his training priorities. Continuing to function when
going without he could handle, but always from a perspective of staying
alive and aware long enough to obtain food or a safe place to rest,
never doing without as a matter of course.

Drawing the scroll from his weapons-space, Ranma carefully perused the
description of the meditative state, then returned the scroll and
settled into a cross-legged sitting position. He proceeded to step his
way through the meditative guide, letting the mental steps draw him into
the proper state of mind. Or rather, he tried to. And failed.

Undeterred at his initial failure, he repeated the mental procedure.
After all, he wasn't the most experienced with the soft arts. But he
learned quickly.

Apparently not quickly enough. He sighed then tried again. And again.
Finally he gave up, opening his eyes with an exasperated growl. The
procedures had managed to clear his mind, however, and as soon as his
eyes met the rough weave of his tent, he saw the problem. Entering a
meditative state allowing an immediate response to danger was rather
useless when encumbered by a tight environment that would greatly hamper
any attempt at defense.

Rising, and silently congratulating himself on having remembered to
stretch first, for he was sure he would have had a terrible crick in his
back otherwise, he stepped out of the tent. Pulling his pack out after
him, he quickly redressed, then returned his pack. After judging the lay
of the clearing, he settled back into a cross-legged position at the
spot that gave him the greatest freedom to move in any direction.

The fifth time he tried the mental exercise, he passed without
difficulty into the state of meditation required. A little over an hour
later, his awareness returned to his surroundings. Again he stretched
for several minutes, then began to practice his kata. He found himself
missing his father as he proceeded through a number of vigorous kata.
Irritating as his father's habit of defenestrating him as a means of
awakening him was, he missed having someone to spar with, especially
someone who knew his weaknesses, knew where he had a tendency to grow
complacent. Even if his father had taught him little while they were at
the dojo, and that under duress, he had kept him from relaxing, kept him
from losing his edge.

Of course, Ryouga had been good for that as well, but as he had come to
see the wisdom in Tofu's advice, at least in part due to Nabiki's
tutoring, he had realized how much he had been hurting the lost boy by
playing Genma's game with him. Ryouga had been dangerously depressed
almost as long as Ranma had known him, but it was only after he had
begun to take the Doc's advice about the dangers of emotional ki use
seriously that Ranma had finally understood why Ryouga had still been so
hostile and so depressed even after he had seemingly given up on Akane,
admitting that Ranma was not unworthy of her, and strengthened his suit
with Akari. 

Now that Ranma could no longer lie to himself, thanks to Nabiki and the
nearly instinctual disgust the Kunos' engendered in him, he was unable
to hide from his responsibility in helping bring Ryouga to the state he
was in. He wasn't sure if he would be able to spar the same way with
Ryouga ever again. He had held out some hope that they would finally be
able to become real friends, or as close to it as they could become, but
after what happened with the Tendos, Ranma was no longer certain that he
wanted to. It might be better for him to sever his ties in Nerima
completely, though of course, he would have to deal with Shampoo before
he could even attempt that.

A sudden chill descended on him and he dropped out of the kata he was
in, nearly turning his ankle when he misjudged his landing. He had quite
obviously fled from Shampoo, after she had seen him. At the time, he had
simply been confused and worried about the odd behavior of his other
fiancees, and unwilling to face a Shampoo who might have gotten the idea
that she was the only legitimate one left. 

What if she had known? What could she think, if she had, but that the
only reason for Ranma to change his name, as both of his other fiancees
had assumed he had, was to dissolve two of the three engagements. That
left hers as the only valid one. She had always claimed to believe that
it was only his forced engagements that kept him from accepting her; if
she had actually believed them to have been broken by an action on his
part, how would she take his flight? That was the second time he had run
from her, and she hadn't had a chance to talk to him between or since.
If she had decided that she had actually failed, what would she do?
There were no longer any 'obstacles' for her to threaten. Nothing stood
between them but him.

Ranma's plans for the day suddenly faded into obscurity, wholly
overshadowed by his fear for the life of someone he cared for. He might
not be willing to marry her, but he didn't want to ruin her life, and he
certainly didn't want her to be punished before he had a chance to at
least try and parlay his win over Saffron into freedom for her from that
damned law.

Moving instantly from the stillness of thought and surprise to moving as
fast as the fabric could bear, he tore down his tent and stowed it and
his pack. Turning away, he cast a brief prayer to the kami before
crouching and springing into the air in a ki-powered leap that took him
well above the treetops.

He stalled mentally just as he was about to engage the dual vortexes of
his most recent speed technique. There was no way that Cologne, or heck,
even Shampoo or Mousse would not notice his approach. He considered his
choices as he fell. He did not want to take a chance on Shampoo
suffering as a result of his unwillingness to marry her, but at the same
time, he was not yet really ready to challenge Cologne, which he
expected he might have to do, as a last resort, to free Shampoo from the
effects of the law. He wanted the Nekoken accessible before that. It was
what had won him his one and only real victory over her, and if he could
use it without going insane, use it in concert with all the rest of his
techniques, he was confident that he would be able to pull out a
believable win.

He knew that no matter how much Cologne did not want her
great-granddaughter to suffer, she would still have to give her all in
defending her village's laws, or she would lose face and be dishonored.
That the Amazons took their own honor nearly as seriously as he took his
he had never really doubted, particularly considering that Cologne had
cursed her own great-granddaughter for failing to meet the demands of
her honor, though their rules of honor did not match his, nor did they
seem to respect the cost of what they asked to his own honor. But then,
they were not Japanese; did they really understand the costs?

He impacted hard against the ground, creating strong impressions of his
feet, as he dropped to his knees to absorb the blow. He shook himself.
If he had paid more attention to his fall he would not have ended up
damaging the ground. That thought did not hold his attention for more
than a moment, however, as he returned to the question of Shampoo.

No matter how much he did not want to see Shampoo hurt, no matter how
much it hurt to see any girl crying because of him, he did not want to
marry her. His mind shied away from questions of why, no longer willing
or able to lie to him about them, but also far from ready to face them.
He just did not want to. He would find some other way around their laws.

Right now, he just wanted to make sure that the Amazons had not left
Nerima, and that Shampoo was okay. Cloaking himself in the Umisenken, he
sought and attained the mental void that would act as a second layer of
protection, then bounded into the trees on a straight line course for
the Nekohanten.

A smile struck his lips suddenly, as he realized that he had needed to
go back to Nerima anyway. He had not really thought about it yesterday,
when talking to Setsuna-san, but wouldn't he need to get his records
from Furinkan before he could register at his new school? And why had
Setsuna mentioned the need to make an impression there when she was
trying to get him to stay at her apartment? After all, surely which high
school he would be enrolled in in this district would be dependent on
what family Ishida-san placed him with? Ranma still was not sure about
that, but had decided that his honor demanded that he give Ishida's
family a chance, after all they had done for him.

He paused on a rooftop on the edge of Nerima to collect himself and
clear his mind, not wanting to be distracted by other thoughts lest he
allow one or the other of his techniques to falter while in the view of
any of the usual crowd of Nerimans.

Moving much more carefully, he proceeded into the district. He took
extra pains to be sure that he did not land loudly, nor dislodge stones
or shingles, nor allow the wind about him to whistle by injudicious
positioning of his limbs.

In exquisite silence he dropped to a kneeling halt on the roof of a
building directly opposite the Nekohanten. There he stopped to once more
consider his options. He wanted to know that Shampoo was alright, but in
spite of the urgency his sudden realization of her possible danger had
lent to his flight, he knew that to bathe the place in his ki to find
hers, or to enter the dwelling itself, was liable to alert the old
ghoul, if she wasn't watching him already.

He was not so foolish as to assume that this technique of his father's
was without flaw and he did not know his new technique well enough to
clearly know its limitations. More to the point, he felt sure the old
ghoul was not depending on ki and highly trained senses alone to defend
her chosen ground. He felt sure, given the fact that her tribe knew of
Jusenkyou and even used it as a punishment, and in light of some of his
other experiences with them, that Cologne knew considerable magic. There
was a fair probability that she had some magical something or other
protecting her building. He did not think she knew about the Umisenken,
but he also did not know whether it would offer any real protection
against magical detection.

So he restrained himself, settling, for the moment, for scanning the
building as carefully as he could visually. It did not look closed, nor
abandoned, so far as he could tell, but then, they would not have been
gone long. Briefly, he tried--after burying his ki in the void to be
sure he did not accidentally raise or extend it--opening himself up to
the ki emanations in hopes of locating the inhabitants, assuming there
still were any. That did little good. He was unable to isolate any of
the signatures, though he could feel life all about him.

Sighing unhappily, he settled in to watch, his eyes flickering from the
front of the store to the side, searching for signs of movement. He
restrained a deep sigh of relief when he saw Mousse briefly pass by the
side alley. They were not gone, then. He still would not feel
comfortable until he saw Shampoo. While it might vaguely be possible for
Cologne to try and leave with Shampoo and force Mousse to stay behind,
he could not believe that Mousse would actually do so, rules or no.
Still, he couldn't be sure that the old ghoul hadn't used some secret
technique or magic on Mousse, maybe that memory altering shampoo or
something, so he was not willing to completely trust that Mousse's
presence meant Shampoo's safety.

So he continued watching. He did not see the movement, but eventually,
when he looked from the alley to the storefront, he saw that the open
sign had been flipped. He had not seen Mousse return yet, but he had not
been watching the alleyway the entire time, so he could not be certain
it was not Mousse, but he felt a bit more hopeful, a bit less worried.

He heard noises from behind the restaurant. He leaned over, watching the
alley intently, trying to interpret the sounds. He nearly fell off the
roof in relief when Shampoo barrelled around the corner and raced out of
the alley on her bike. If she was still making deliveries, which she
was--he could recognize the takeout boxes on her bike--then she had
obviously not suffered too greatly.

Allowing himself that modicum of relief, but carefully fixing in his
memory the knowledge that he needed to consider how his actions affected
her if he saw her when he went by the school, and mentally running
through possible conversations, Ranma released the Umisenken and the
Void and the Flame and began roof-hopping towards the school. He did not
notice two large eyes in a heavily seamed face that watched him leave. 

"So, son-in-law, you do still care... at least a little. I hope, for
Shampoo's sake, you care enough."

---

"Die, Saotome!"

Ranma groaned with disgusted feeling as he sidestepped the incoming
knives. He had obviously released the stealth techniques too early.
"Good morning, Mousse," he called out, grinning as Mousse faced him,
anger surely bright in the eyes hidden behind his thick glasses.

"For making Shampoo cry, I will kill you, Saotome!" Mousse declared. His
voice showed none of the fear or concern that Ranma had assumed had been
keeping his usual enemies quiet--at least those that had been on
Jusendo. Either Mousse had had other reasons for keeping his peace,
Ranma realized, or he had recognized the amount of luck involved in
Ranma's win, and assumed he could have done as well. Ranma didn't
believe it, he knew that he had been spectacularly lucky, but he didn't
think anyone else in his position could have done as well, except
perhaps for Herb, who was certainly strong enough to go toe to toe with
Saffron, and might have had skill enough to find a way past that
impossible healing. Mousse? Not a chance. His words hit hard for a
different reason though. It wasn't particularly important to Ranma that
his enemies fear him. Indeed, he didn't much care for the idea of being
feared at all. But that Shampoo had been crying... He was right then, he
had hurt her, even if, by their continued and seemingly normal presence
here, he concluded that she had not given up on him.

This was good for one thing, though. The Void and the Flame was
originally a warrior's art, meant for swordsmen. Against Ryouga it might
well turn out a weakness when the fight turned to ki blasts, if it did.
With Mousse though... Ranma dodged the chain and slipped through the
path of the shuriken, taking the fight up close. Mousse reacted as
expected, whipping out two swords. With tight focus, Ranma blurred into
the Amaguriken, knocking one of the blades away and diving after it
before Mousse could counter-attack. It was close, a risky move that
allowed Mousse to come within a hair's breadth of wounding him.

It worked though, and he would have been grinning widely at the
practiced ease with which he brought up the void, that which had been
hard becoming steadily easier with continual use, were it not for the
flame in the void that subsumed that pleasure, leaving him calm and
collected, sword in hand. 

Mousse gaped at him for a minute before returning to the attack. He
growled as he threw himself forward, a sword in each hand. "I did not
expect an armed defense from you," he said, sword flashing down, "but it
won't save you! You should know better than to take up a weapon against
a Master of Hidden Weapons!"

Ranma caught Mousse's sword on his, knocking it away and ripping his
sword back to stop Mousse's other sword. He jumped back, sucking in his
gut, when Mousse's foot flashed past, the gleam of metal shining from
the tip of his shoe. 

Ranma growled as he landed, irritated by that reminder that his opponent
actually was out to gut him, was not fighting simply for the sake of the
art. This was what he had grown tired of, this constant perversion of
the art from that of the protector, to a mere tool for the fulfillment
of another's base desires. Damn it! It was one thing to be mad at him
for making a girl cry. Heck, he was angry with himself for that! But
there was no way actually killing him was going to make Shampoo happy,
and Mousse had to know that. That would just hurt her worse, but he
didn't care, only cared that it would leave him in a position to comfort
her and take Ranma's place. 

Ranma sighed unhappily, even as he batted away another attack. He was
doing it again, rationalizing to himself. He had to face it, or he would
be as bad as Kuno. He didn't love Shampoo, at least, he didn't think he
did. But he was jealous of her attention, jealous that Mousse was trying
to steal her away. She's my friend! Why does she have to stop being that
for him to be happy? Why can't she be both our friends? It was as bad as
Ryouga, he mused, knocking another weapon out of Mousse's hands, then
casually knocking the other boy out completely with the hilt of his
sword, lost in thought, his body on auto-pilot. 

Without realizing what he was doing, he spun into a kata appropriate for
the sword in his hand. It's just like Akane and Ryouga. If I didn't know
that he cared for her for real... For a moment he pictured his reaction
to Ryouga pursuing Akane solely for the purpose of destroying his
happiness, as Ryouga had first proclaimed. He did not notice Mousse
stirring, then staring in anger and disbelief at him, as he whirled
through his kata apparently without concern for the enemy he had left at
his back.