Beginning of an End


Ranma jerked awake to a splash of cold water and an angry shout. He
looked up to see the glaring eyes of his fiancee but gritted his teeth
and resisted the urge to insult her. So what if she was uncute, if she
was incapable of trust, so what if she constantly leapt to conclusions.
He had to give her a chance, give them a chance. After all, what if it
was love that he felt on Jusendo? Shouldn't he give love a chance?

She growled angrily at his lack of a response and stalked from the room
muttering. He rose from his futon with a sigh, grabbed some clothes, and
headed for the bath. He wondered for a moment where his idiot father was
then dismissed it from his mind. 

If it was important, he would find out soon enough. 

When he finally made it to the breafast table, cleaned and ready for
school, Akane was there already, glaring at him. He glanced a bit
fearfully at his plate but thankfully it looked normal. He sat
silently and ate quickly, not wanting to give Akane an excuse to hit
him.

She did not speak, settling for a hard glare. Soon they were out of the
house and on their way to Furinkan High. 

"So, who was she?" Akane ground out through clenched teeth.

Ranma looked down from his position on the fence at his angry fiancee.
Somehow, he knew, no matter how he responded it would be taken the wrong
way and he would get malleted. 

"She's just someone I met in the park," Ranma said. He did not like to
admit to weakness and he really did not want to admit that he, Saotome
Ranma, man among men, had asked for help.

He felt the flaring of Akane's battle aura and did not even hear her
response before registering the mallet impact that sent him flying
through the air.

"Oh well, at least she sent me towards the school this time," he
muttered. He shifted so that he was facing the direction he was moving.
Instantly he began adjusting his trajectory. If he could not shift far
enough, he would hit the pool. He wondered for a moment, as he worked to
alter his path enough to land on the school roof instead, whether Akane
had deliberately aimed for the pool.

Thankfully, he discovered that he had recognized the danger with enough
time to spare and he was able to make a soft landing on the school roof.
He glanced around and then stopped still as he heard Akane's voice
below. She was just about to... yep. Ranma grinned and waved as Kuno
sailed past him on a high arc, then sat down. 

"She sure is mallet happy today," he muttered. Thinking of the reason
for his earlier malleting, the green haired friend of Tofu's, led to
thoughts of Tofu as he was preparing to leave. That had been some time
ago but his memories of Tofu were still clear.

"You really should reconsider allowing Akane to hit you," Tofu had
advised. "I've been watching her for some time and I'm afraid you're
just feeding her delusion. She has to know, subconsciously, even if she
won't admit it, that she can't hit you unless you allow it. I'm afraid
that every time you let her hit you she is seeing it as evidence that
you are in fact guilty of whatever imagined offense she is angry about."

Ranma had not been willing to follow Tofu's advice then. He had
protested and in the end ignored it. He knew that if he avoided Akane's
righteous anger, the fathers would be outraged, Ryouga would blow up at
him, and things would simply get worse.

Now though, he was less certain. His father had occasionally shown signs
of uncertainty, as if he was no longer so sure of being able to handle
Ranma. Soun had not changed, but then, he was not a real threat anyway.
Ryouga and his other rivals, on the other hand... well, Kuno might still
react badly, but Kuno was never a real challenge anyway. Ranma got the
feeling that Ryouga's opinion about Akane and Ranma had been changing,
though.

Maybe it was time. "Yeah," he said, smacking his fist into his palm.
"She's the only one that hasn't grown up after the whole blow up at
Jusendo... everyone else will think twice about pushing me once they
realize I'm no longer kowtowing to that uncute tomboy."

Jumping to his feet, Ranma flipped off the edge of the roof. As he fell
past the building he took note of his classroom window and smiled. Since
it was open, he leapt again as soon as he landed, alighting on the
windowsill and slipping into his seat just before Akane entered the
room, still angry over Kuno's presence.

She gave Ranma a sharp glare before sitting at her desk and turning her
attention away from him. Ukyou entered a few moments later and Ranma
noticed the sad look she directed towards him as she headed for her
seat. Catching that look made him realize that she and Shampoo both
seemed to have finally come to the realization that they had gone too
far and that he actually loved Akane, that he had already made his
choice. It figured that that realization would come to them just when he
was beginning to really question his feelings for Akane. 

He shivered suddenly as he realized that the cold shoulder he had been
giving Shampoo and Ukyou could backfire badly if they decided they had
no chance and the fathers learned of it. He and Akane might be married
before they knew what was happening and Ranma was beginning to be
seriously worried at the prospect of having to spend the rest of his
life with someone who so obviously hated him.

It suddenly hit Ranma that that might explain Akane's recent behavior.
If she really did dislike him then the increase in her violence and
anger could be explained by her not wanting him. If she did not want to
get married, then as he acted nicer, she would have to pick up the slack
to prevent the marriage. He slumped slightly in his seat. He had not
really wanted to believe it but it made sense; more sense than he had
ever made of her behavior before, at any rate.

He drifted through the rest of the classes until lunch. He didn't sleep
but he wasn't paying much attention either. He simply kept picturing
recent incidents and fitting them into the picture of Akane's genuine
dislike for him, hoping to find something that didn't fit. When the bell
for lunch rang, he had still not found anything.

Ranma slipped out the window carrying his lunch and dropped to his usual
spot by a tree. He watched Akane come out in the company of Yuka and
Sayuri. Again she directed a venomous glare in his direction. He sighed
and focused on his lunch. It was gone in moments and he turned his
attention back to the yard. 

He saw Kuno approaching Akane from the practice field, then to one side
he noticed Ukyou cooking okynomiyaki on her portable griddle. Ranma
slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of yen. He had
enough. 

He stood and made his way quickly to where Ukyou was sitting, hearing
Akane yelling at Kuno in the background. He squatted by her, holding out
a handful of yen, the full amount she usually charged her lunchtime
customers.

"Ranma?" She asked, a bit nervously. 

"One shrimp okynomiyaki please, Ucchan," he replied. Her eyes lit up at
the name and she immediately poured batter on the griddle, then she
looked at the yen in his hand.

"Ranchan, you know," she began.

"No," he replied firmly, "I ain't gonna be like Pops anymore. You're too
good a friend to mooch off of." 

Not that Ranma had ever really seen the food he got from his fiancees as
mooching. After all, they were well aware of the difficulties preventing
him from making any real money. He wasn't worried about acting like his
father, and didn't really equate his actions with his father's anyway. 

It was just the first explanation that popped into his mind, since he
could not simply tell her that he was hoping that she would go back to
being the friend he had always wanted. 

He had not said fiancee, quite deliberately, and he was trying, by 
changing the way he interacted with Ukyou the chef, to change the way he
interacted with Ukyou the girl. 

He could not have phrased it so clearly, of course. He simply had the
idea that if he treated her the way Hiroshi and Daisuke did, now that
she seemed to have accepted that he had not chosen her, even if she
might be wrong about his having chosen Akane, she might be willing to be
his friend again. Well, a guy could hope, right?

She smiled and sprinkled the ingredients on the okynomiyaki after
flipping it then handed it too him.

"Yowch, hot!" He yelped, but ate it quickly. "Mmmm. That was delicious,
Ucchan. You really are a great cook."

He saw her eyes widen and felt a strong ki coming towards his rear and
grinned inwardly. Time to change the rules of the game . . . "Ranma no
Baka!" Akane shouted, swinging her mallet.

A silence fell over the schoolyard, as everyone froze, staring in utter
disbelief as Ranma caught Akane's hammer on his palm. He shifted his
grip on the head of Akane's hammer slightly and plucked it from her
grip. Ranma had stopped Mallet-sama? Ranma had defended himself against
Akane?

Ranma closed his fist, crushing the mallet head into splinters. Akane
purpled with rage and whipped out an even larger mallet. It met a
ki-enhanced fist and exploded into dust.

Still no-one else moved. It just seemed surreal. That could not be Ranma
standing there looking at Akane with that silly smirk on his face. Akane
seemed at a loss for a response but Ranma let her off the hook by
leaping up into the tree and bounding across the yard and back into his
classroom.

The unnatural silence and complete stillness lasted until the bell
suddenly rang, signaling the end of lunch. Ukyou watched wide-eyed as
Akane stormed back into the building. Ranma had defended himself against
Akane. He was speaking to her again. She almost drifted off into a
fantasy again when her logical mind, having seen a recent return after
the events of the wedding finally broke her fantasy for the first time,
replayed his words. "You're too good a friend . . ." He had not called
her cute, had not called her a fiancee. He had said friend.

For the first time in nearly two years Ukyou's defensiveness of her
right to her dreams faltered and for a brief moment she wondered what
her Ranchan dreamed of. Why had he paid her for the okynomiyaki, she
pondered, as she hurriedly cleaned her griddle and headed back to class.
What was he trying to say?

A slow flush crept up her face as she remembered how happy Ranma had
seemed when she had first shown up and he had realized who she was. He'd
been so happy to see his friend again. She paused in the door to the
classroom and took in the looks of disbelief still on most of the
students' faces. 

Even Akane looked more pensive than angry for once. As Ukyou made her
way to her seat, she wondered at that. She had always kind of assumed
that if Ranma ever actually failed to defend Akane, it would break her
shell and send her fleeing in tears. Why hadn't she run? Why did she
look pensive, instead of heartbroken, or angry?

Some distance away in another classroom, two figures sat in brooding
thought. Kuno had not actually seen the events, as he had been
recovering still from his pummeling at the hands of his fierce tigress.
Still the students were saying that Ranma had defended himself against
Akane without striking her. He had simply disarmed her and then left.
Kuno was currently fighting between two lines of thought. He couldn't
decide whether the sorcerous Saotome was upping his control over Akane
or releasing her. Should he attack Saotome to punish him, or Akane, now
freed of the treacherous Saotome's influence?

Nabiki on the other hand was basically in shock. The only active thought
in her mind was a rather strangled "Four... hundred... thousand...
yen..."

She had taken a bet just the day before from a student. Four thousand
yen placed on Ranma to defend against Akane's mallet instead of merely
dodging. She had seen it as easy money, even given the girl 100 to 1
odds. After all, she prided herself on reading people, and she was
certain Ranma would never defend himself from Akane. Besides, he had
even toned down the insults recently, and avoided doing anything to
anger her, so surely he would not suddenly go in the opposite direction.
Yet he had, and now she had someone expecting a four hundred thousand
yen payout. Nabiki was not having a good day.

She retained enough sense to answer questions when the teacher posed
them but aside from that, she remembered little of what happened from
lunch to the end of the day. She was still sitting at her desk in a daze
when a gentle throat clearing attracted her attention.

She looked up to see the girl who had made the bet. "How?" Nabiki's mind
instantly went back to full speed. "How did you know?"

The girl moved slightly and Nabiki's attention was drawn lower, to
where the girl was holding out a white envelope. "I didn't," she said.
"A lady gave me four thousand yen and told me what bet to make. She said
when the bet was won, to give you this. I guess it tells where to send
the money, or something."

Nabiki shivered suddenly. Surely . . . surely she had not inadvertently
accepted a bet from a cop? Why else would someone have made the bet
through a proxy?

She thanked the girl and hurried home, her unease growing. She ignored
the situation in the house, though subconsciously the lack of noise
raised her feeling of nervousness. She went directly to her room and
shut the door behind her. Checking to make certain that there was no-one
present, she sat at her desk and looked at the envelope.

A simple white envelope, nothing written on it, no stamps or markings.
She verified that it was sealed then slit it open with a letter-opener.
Slipping two fingers into the opening, she pulled out a folded sheet of
paper.

She unfolded it and began to read. Finishing, she sat still for several
long minutes, thinking about what she had read, before cutting the
document into small pieces and placing it in a small metal tin. She kept
the tin on her desk for a single purpose . . . to dispose of dangerous
documents. Nabiki did not trust shredders. 

She pulled out a small box of matches and lit the contents of the tin
then opened her window. She teased the fire with the metal
letter-opener, making sure each bit of paper caught and burned
completely, before she cast the crumbled ashes to the wind.

She slid the window shut again and moved back to her desk, where she
snagged a pad of paper and a pen. In a precise hand she noted down a
list of supplies she would have to obtain. On another sheet, she quickly
jotted down a few ideas, to see if any more supplies would be necessary. 

Tearing off both sheets, she placed them in her purse and headed
downstairs. She poked her head in to the kitchen and saw Kasumi. "I've
got to head to a shop and pick up a few things," she advised and at
Kasumi's pleasant confirmation, she continued out the door.

As she opened the front gate, she suddenly cursed to herself. Why had
she not asked that girl for a description of the woman who had made the
bet? Nabiki wondered as she closed the gates behind herself whether the
description would have included green hair. "I better ask her tomorrow,"
she muttered. Could it really be possible for Ranma to have planned
this? She would not have believed it of him, he simply did not seem that
clever, but then, she had bet at a hundred to one odds that he'd never
stop Akane's mallet and she had been wrong about that.

Meanwhile Ranma had discovered just as school let out that word of his
actions at lunch had reached the Nekohaunten. 

"Nihao, airen!" Shampoo caroled happily as she aimed her bike to land on
Ranma. He always made her landings nice and soft. Wham! Ranma cleanly
sidestepped the incoming bike and Shampoo hit hard. He was off and
running before she or Akane could react and by the time Shampoo
recovered from her bruising landing, Ranma was gone from sight.

Once again Ranma had managed to stun just about everyone. Like Akane's
mallet, Ranma never seemed to dodge Shampoo's bike. Until now. Of
course, Shampoo had not tried to land on him since Jusendo but if he was
no longer taking Akane's abuse, then Shampoo was back in the running.
Except that she did not seem to be. 

Ranma cursed softly as he ran. He had realized for some time that if he
started actually avoiding Shampoo's glomps and her bike, she would come
to realize that he was avoiding her. He did not want to hurt her and he
was afraid of what would happen to her if she gave up. More to the
point, he would have expected, before Jusendo, that Cologne would have
pushed even harder for stronger methods if Ranma upped his resistance. 

Now that Jusendo had happened though, Ranma felt sure that the old ghoul
would not want an angry Ranma in the tribe and there was no way he was
going to allow his changed attitude to Akane to be interpreted as a
license to return to the way things were before Jusendo for the rest of
the Nerima crew.

He changed course several times in order to lose pursuit but since he
didn't detect anyone following him, he used more speed than he normally
permitted himself.

He wanted some time alone to think about how to deal with the
repercussions of his act at lunch and so he was headed to the last place
he had been able to find some time to sit and think. He found it easily
and soon he was again sitting by a tree watching children play.

Unfortunately his mind wasn't cooperating. He wasn't coming up with any
good ideas on how to handle the recriminations that would surely follow
as soon as he returned to the Tendo home. 

After a fruitless quarter of an hour during which he came to no useful
conclusions, he decided that he needed to clear his mind. Not really
having much experience with meditation, as Genma did not much care for
it, Ranma's tool of choice for clearing his mind was kata.

Rising from his spot beneath the tree, he cast about until he found a
wide region clear of trees and not currently inhabited by overactive
children. He was about to enter into an energetic kata when his mind
rebelled. He stopped for a moment. What was wrong? Why shouldn't he do a
full out kata here? The answer came to him after a moment's thought.
No-one is disturbing you here because no-one knows you. Go all out and
they'll make the connection and you'll draw attention.

Satisfied with that logic, Ranma began a ground-based kata. 

Punch. Block. Snap kick. Block. Leg sweep and punch combo. Block.

Ranma closed his eyes, allowing the familiar easy motion of his body
flowing through the moves to soothe his mind. He lost himself in the
pattern of blocks, kicks, punches and combinations. 

He focused on his father. His father's arguments were as familiar to him
now as were his attacks. 

"Boy, how dare you dishonor your fiancee like that!" His father's fists
flew in a frontal assault.

"There is no dishonor in self-defence," he protested, batting aside and
misdirecting his father's blows.

"You should take your punishment like a man! What are you, a weak girl?"
His father taunted him, as he dropped into a low combo ending in a hard,
fast sweep that Ranma barely avoided.

"Punishment for what? I haven't done anything wrong!" Ranma objected,
narrowly leaping over the leg sweep. He tried to retaliate with a throw
but his father deflected it.

"You haven't fulfilled your honor and married her, boy!" He snarled at
Ranma. 

Ranma banished the mental image of his father. It was pointless,
sparring with his father verbally. Genma never responded to direct
attack and always evaded responsibility. At the same time he was sneaky
and tricky enough that even though Ranma was more than powerful enough
to take him out, Ranma still ended up in koi pond as often as not. He
fared even less well in their verbal spats.

High kick. Three quick punches. Block. Drop to a squat and throw an
upwards kick to the gut. Roll and spring into a high kick to the face
with the heel of the right foot.

Ranma didn't even bother trying to think of the others. He had tried but
he simply wasn't cut out for this kind of battle. He couldn't beat his
own father in a battle of words, even though he knew Genma's every move.

Reversal. Rabbit punches to the kidney. Opponent spins to face. Block
high with left arm, block low with right leg. Palm strike.

The image of Nabiki rose up in his mind. How does she do it, he
wondered. Even Master Happosai tended to leave her alone. Ranma knew it
was because of her blackmail, at least partially. At the same time, she
never seemed to actually need to use blackmail to best people with
words. You simply couldn't win a confrontation with Nabiki, no matter
how skilled you were.

Crane stance into finger strike to the throat. Block and a throw,
dropping into a leg sweep as the opponent recovers.

She wasn't the only one, of course. Nodoka seemed to win against Genma
every time, even though Ranma was certain that Genma was good enough to
escape. He wasn't sure how skilled Nodoka might be with her sword but
surely his father's Umi-sen-ken technique would be good enough to allow
him to escape?

Strong jump to avoid low kick, leg drop, block strike to groin. 

He too tended to give way before her, but he knew that he had reason.
He, unlike his father, actually valued his honor. If seppuku was the
only honorable thing he could do, he would do it. He had in fact
considered it once but it seemed too much like running away. He would not
take that path until no other path was left to him. Genma on the other
hand seemed to exist to escape responsibility and evade the demands of
honor, so why would he fear seppuku? Ranma couldn't figure it out,
couldn't see why Genma reacted the way he did to Nodoka and so he set it
aside.

Accept a throw, reverse momentum into springing palm strike. Follow up
with low kick leading to rising uppercut and a hard elbow to the chest.

There was always Kasumi. Gentle Kasumi, who would never lift a hand
against anyone and would certainly never stoop to blackmail, yet when
she insisted, everyone obeyed. She too seemed immune to Happosai.

Hook opponent's foot and swing high, releasing but continuing the
smooth turn, rotating opponent in the air to bring head into range of
full power kick coming off full rotation. 

That was not to say there weren't people that he did understand, or at
least mostly. He understood why people would give way for Cologne,
Happosai, and Hinako-sensei. Sure he stood up to them, at least
sometimes, but he understood why others didn't. Fear. Fear was why they
backed down, fear of the power the three held, fear of what they could
do to someone. 

Backward flip to gain distance giving opponent time to rise, following
with springing double palm strike and upward flip. 

Was it the same with the others? Surely not, surely no one obeyed Kasumi
because they were afraid of her. Yet he couldn't get that thought out of
his mind. If that was the case, though, then why did he lose to his
father? He certainly didn't fear the old man. He knew he could beat him,
especially now that he knew the Umi-sen-ken. He wasn't sure he knew all
the Yama-sen-ken moves, but he had figured out how to duplicate pretty
much everything Kumon Ryu had thrown at him. 

Hard punch to the head while inverted, drop hands to back of neck and
use momentum to throw.

With Nabiki it was fear, that was clear enough. With Nodoka, well, that
too was fear. He wasn't sure what Genma was afraid of but his body
language was pretty clear on the fear part. He was definitely afraid of
Nodoka. With Ranma, on the other hand, it was not so much fear of
Nodoka, nor even really fear of seppuku. There had been a few times when
he had actually hoped his mother would insist on it, if only to finally
release him from the growing tension he was under. He didn't fear death,
at least, he didn't think he did. No, Ranma mused, I don't fear her
katana... it's her eyes. 

Redirect opponent's momentum during throw with hard shoulder strike
lining opponent's chest up with rising foot to slam downward. 

He pictured her again in his mind, looking at him with that look of
disapproval mingled with disappointment. That was what he feared, that
he would be a disappointment to her. He knew that his father was
disappointed in him. He had been ever since the whole Neko-ken business,
even if it had been the old man's fault. 

Dropping neck strike. Endgame. Ranma paused and shuddered as he came
back to himself, realizing that somewhere in his thoughts he had drifted
from the kata to shadow sparring and just performed a lethal strike. 

Am I losing control?

Ranma stood slowly, his breathing still even and steady and relaxed out 
of his stance. He was startled from his contemplations, eyes snapping
open, by the sound of applause from around him.

He saw that in spite of his intention, he had garnered a number of
observers, young and old alike, all admiring. He noted that some of the
girls' looks were more than admiring; they were hungry and he shivered
again.

His eyes caught a look of longing and he was startled by a familiar cut
of deep black hair and a sad face.