Hotaru drifted slowly through the park. She tried to keep a smile on her face as she watched the ducks drifting on the pond. Everytime she lifted her gaze and saw children playing though, her smile would fade.
She remembered it well enough, remembered with a painful clarity what a bright child she'd been, how wonderful the world had seemed. She remember playing vigorously. Most of all, she remembered having friends.
That's all that was left now. Memories.
She had no friends. After the accident she had drifted in a dreamless sleep for two long years. Her friends had forgotten her and moved on, made new friends.
After her awakening, she had discovered that the light in her life had dimmed, for her mother was no longer there to brighten her day, and her father, though still affectionate, was ever more caught up in his work.
Worse yet, she had lost the stamina and strength needed to play and run like the other children. It wasn't her fault. Two years without exercise had left her weak. It would probably have eased over time and she would have grown stronger, had she played regularly.
She had not been accepted, especially once she manifested her healing ability. She had been set apart, shunned. She was different, strange, unnatural.
Without the incentive of friends with whom to play, she had not attained the regular exercise that might have rebuilt her strength, nor had her father taken note of her condition and arranged for the therapy that might also have alleviated the strain.
School, physical education particularly, might have aided her in regaining her strength were it not for the last of her ailments; when she over-exerted herself, she would lapse into unconsciousness. Worse yet, occasionally over-exertion would yield a short period of intense pain before the bliss of unconsciousness provided surcease. In any case, she grew quickly exhausted after even mild amounts of physical exercise and given her poor reactions to being pressed to work harder, the teachers had eventually stopped trying to push her to perform.
So she remained weak still and friendless. She sought solace where she could, in the beauty of her lamps, in playing her violin. She did not seek solace in the parks.
She was not here to be consoled. She was drawn here by the activity, by the many things she wished she could take part in; the many things that were denied her. Though she tried to ease that pain by taking pleasure in the natural beauty around her, it was a false effort. Maybe if she had been able to visit the park at night, when the moon and the stars and the deep black evening sky cast a softer, shaded glow over the park, maybe then it would have spoken to her.
As it was, the beauty of nature was but an excuse to her, a way of not having to admit the true reason she was here, to admit her envy of those who possessed still a normal life, who lived in the light she once knew.
Hotaru's attention was caught by high pitched children's voices and she looked up to see two young boys dragging an older man; their father, perhaps. They sounded excited about something and the delight in their voices made Hotaru ache with envy.
She turned away and to her surprise, she saw several older boys heading in the same direction following one boy who was saying "You gotta see this," over and over.
She looked in the direction they were heading and saw a flash of red. Her curiousity aroused, she began following the boys, hanging back enough to not be noticed.
When her progress removed the last tree between her and their goal she stilled, a sense of delight filling her. Beautiful, she thought to herself. A young man wearing a red shirt and black pants was dancing in the open area between the trees.
She noted without really granting them any attention that there were a number of people gathered, watching the boy. She paid them no mind, focused on the boy. He moved with a mix of power and grace that was beautiful in its own right and seemed more delightful still with the poses he was taking and the moves he was making.
She could see that the positions he was taking held some purpose beyond what she could see. After a short time of watching, a gleeful comment from one of the younger observers caught her attention and she considered the dancing boy.
Yes, indeed, now that she had been given the idea, she could see that it was as if he was fighting someone who could not be seen. She had seen fights though, at school and after it and never before had a fight been a thing of beauty to her eyes.
She continued to watch and slowly began to feel as if she could almost see the nonexistent figure he was fighting. It was as if his moves not only attained his position; they also defined the position of his opponent.
She moved a bit closer then felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as the tone of his movements changed. She could almost feel the anger, see the concentrated rage in his motions now. It called to her more strongly still. "A dance," she whispered. "A dance of death..."
She wasn't sure where the words came from but they fit. The beauty of his motion seemed stronger now and the moves more purposeful, more forceful.
He stilled finally, unmoving, his fist just touching the bent grass and Hotaru realized that if her impression of the opponent's position was correct then his opponent's throat would have just been crushed. Dance of death indeed.
When he stood slowly, facing in her general direction, with his eyes still closed, easing out of his stance, the people around him broke into applause. He jerked as if shot, his eyes snapping wide, gleaming a vivid blue. He glanced around for a moment and then his eyes met hers.
It was only a moment before his eyes moved on but Hotaru felt a thrill run through her. She had seen beyond the mere external beauty of those azure pools. She had seen into his soul and within him there was a void of loneliness as great as that which haunted her.
She stared at him, realizing, now that she could spare attention for his face, that he was remarkably handsome. He was certainly well-built and his performance had spoken for his skill. So why would he be lonely? Hotaru shook her head, sending her hair swirling. She must have imagined it, must have read into his eyes what she wanted to see, or perhaps she'd merely seen herself reflected. Such a man as he could not know loneliness, not as she knew it.
"Hey, mister," one of the younger boys asked in his high piping voice, "can you show me how to do that?"
"That was so cool," his partner agreed.
The boy shook his head and for the first time she noticed that he wore his hair in a pigtail. "I am not licensed to teach," he replied.
At that and with the assumption that he was finished, most of the park-goers returned to their activities. A few boys stayed behind though, as did Hotaru, finding a seat beneath a tree.
The boy ignored the watchers and closed his eyes, beginning again a slow dance. She noticed that it was much simpler than what he had been doing and when some of the boys started trying to mimic his motions, Hotaru began watching him very closely.
She got the idea that he must have chosen a simple beginner's sequence as a way of teaching those who were interested without having to admit to awareness of their learning.
She watched intently though she made no move to mimic him as the boys were doing. Hotaru knew better than to exert herself here at the park and risk being helpless in public.
She watched him for what seemed like hours and it was only the darkening of the sky that finally drew her attention from him. She was deeply startled to realize how much time had passed and quickly fled the park.
Several more hours passed before Ranma finally came to a halt. He had not, as Hotaru had thought, gone to a simpler kata as a way of teaching without admitting it. Indeed, he hadn't given the watchers a second thought after answering their question.
In point of fact Ranma's disinterest in teaching was one of the factors that had led him to resist the marriage for so long. While certainly not the only nor even the largest factor, it did play a role.
Shortly after he met Dr. Tofu, Tofu had told him something. It was a proverb of sorts, a common saying, though much that would seem common to most people was unknown to Ranma. "Those who can, do, those who can't, teach."
Ranma hadn't heard that when he first came to the dojo, of course, but he had observed masters for many years and while he was not often much of one for logic, he was not slow at observation in matters pertaining to his Art.
Masters at dojos, he had learned, became tied to their dojo. The stories the masters told of their training always seemed to be in the past. Never had a master at a dojo told him in excitement of a new technique picked up on a recent training trip. Ranma's mind might not be the swiftest in some matters, but even for him it was easy to see that if they were truly learning new techniques regularly, they would show enthusiasm for the possibility.
So without understanding any of the details of why those masters stayed at their dojos and stopped seeking new techniques and skills, without any comprehension of the logistics, the business issues, and the politics that prevented it, he had understood in his gut that when he opened his dojo, he would cease to advance in the art.
Arriving at Nerima where he was threatened with taking over a dojo, he was immediately faced with an object lesson. Tendo Soun and his father had learned under the same master and had presumably been near in skill. His father had not had a dojo and had been able, sixteen years later, to give his son a reasonable workout. Tendo Soun had a dojo and after sixteen years, had not even managed to teach his daughter to fight competently and had clearly allowed his own training to lapse.
So his shift in style and choice of katas was not predicated on teaching, but on control.
Am I losing control?
That thought had sparked a rising fear within him, a recognition of danger and a premonition of disaster. If he lost control, then given the illogical and irrational behavior of so many of the people around him, it would not be long before he seriously injured someone.
So he had returned to the basics, seeking to calm himself, to find his center once again. He had not noted the passage of time. He lost himself in the ebb and flow of the kata, slowly working his way through the beginner sets.
When he finally returned to awareness of his surroundings, his watchers had gone, including the black haired girl, and the sky had descended into darkness.
"Dangit, I gotta get home, and quick," he muttered, then grinned slowly. It was late . . . very late and on a day when he'd given everyone plenty of reason to think twice about following him and he had reason to try and move quickly.
"Time to try," he said happily. He flared his aura. He had used more ki in that fight with Saffron than he ever had before in his life and while it had taken more out of him than he ever wanted to repeat, after he had recovered, he had discovered that his ki reserves had deepened.
He thought he had enough ki available to try something he'd seen done once. He wasn't quite ready to go all the way but the beginnings of the technique could be used as a good speed boost. If it worked.
He leapt into the air and began his normal progress towards the Tendo home. As he leapt he focused on his aura. Almost instantly he began to spin, sending him off course, slamming into the side of a building.
"Ite!"
Shaking off the impact, he leapt back to the roof. "Ok, that went wrong," he groused but there was no force behind the irritation. His mind was focused on the feel of his aura and in moments he was certain he knew what had gone wrong. Leaping again, he focused his aura and shot forward as if released from a gun.
He shouted in glee as he sped through the air. His aura was spinning about him in two vortexes. It definitely took a bit of concentration to get right, especially because they had to spin in opposite directions. Spin the same direction, or with a single vortex, and he himself would spin out of control, as he had the first time. With two opposing vortices however, he was able to literally pull himself forward through the air.
It required too much concentration and focus to be usable for flight yet, but it was the first step, and it greatly increased his speed. He landed on the Tendo roof in only a few minutes.
Hopping down into the yard, he cast an eye on his window. Closed, of course. Damned old man. Ranma walked around to the front and entered the house. It was later than he had thought, he noted, as he slipped silently through the darkened halls and into his room.
Back in the park where he had been a worried figure stood hidden in the darkness watching with fearful eyes. The figure did not move from the shadows until several fuku-clad girls bounced into the clearing. Finally, Sailor Mercury stepped from the shadows, breathing easier now that she was not alone.
Sailor Mars and Sailor Jupiter had been the closest and answered her call quickly. She had seen no sign of any youma or other unnatural creatures but she was decidedly nervous. It had been an unusually long time since they had had a sighting and she was worried that that simply meant that something really big was coming up.
Jupiter glanced around then gave a disgusted huff when she realized there were no apparent enemies to fight. After so long, she was itching for a good fight.
"So, what's the story, Mercury?" queried the raven haired Mars.
Mercury was focused on her computer, walking about the clearing, now that she was not alone. "There was an immense concentration of life energy here a short while ago," she said.
Mars opened her senses and gasped. "Wow, no kidding."
Mercury glanced at her. "You can sense it?"
"Yeah . . . it's like the atmosphere feels after I do a fire reading, but wow! This is way more intense."
"I'm also getting faint readings of negative energy," Mercury commented. "Not specifically Negaverse, but definitely negative."
"But there's no youma here, or cardian, or anything?" Jupiter sounded unhappy, and Mercury looked up.
"No, there doesn't seem to be. I'm sorry to call you," she said, apologetically, "but I... I was worried about facing something alone. Our experience thus far has indicated that new enemies are significantly harder than the last group we faced each time."
"S'okay," replied Jupiter, grinning, "I understand. I was just hoping there'd be something to pound on."
---
Nabiki rose and glared at her blaring alarm clock before hitting it, shutting off the alarm. She stared at the numerals for several long moments, trying to figure out why on earth she would have set her alarm to get her up fifteen minutes early. Finally it came to her and she leapt from her bed.
She gathered her clothes quickly and raced to the furo, pausing to make sure the occupied sign was not out before putting it out herself.
Exiting from the furo with a pleased sigh a while later, she headed for the living room. Glancing outside she saw Genma and Ranma engaged in their morning spar.
"You're up early," commented Kasumi as she set the place settings at the table.
"Yeah, got some business to take care of," replied Nabiki, eyes on the sparring Saotomes. She stepped up to the open door to the backyard after glancing around to make sure that Akane was not yet up and about. She was worried about how Akane would react to this and didn't want her around to hear about it. "Ranma," she called out. "I need to speak to you. Now."
Ranma jerked in surprise at her call and Genma crowed, "An opening!" A splash a moment later announced Ranma's introduction to the koi pond. A disgruntled onna-Ranma emerged and strode over to the house, pulling off her shirt to squeeze the water out. She eyed Nabiki suspiciously.
"What now, Nabiki?" Ranma's question was laced with suspicion but it was the tired sound to it that caught Nabiki's interest.
She set that consideration aside for the moment, however, as she had more important plans to make. "Don't disappear after school today, Saotome. I need to talk to you when we get back."
Ranma sighed and thought for a moment. "Yeah, alright, sure, I'll be here," she said then brushed past Nabiki and headed for the furo to get a quick shower.
To Ranma's surprise, breakfast passed without any comments regarding his behavior the day before. Hmm, I guess Akane and Nabiki must not have said anything about it. He watched Akane as she ate and was even more surprised to realize that she was not radiating anger. She wasn't looking at him either but still, he would have expected to have fended off another mallet attempt by now.
Glancing at Nabiki he noticed the absence of her usual smirk. She seemed worried about something, though the instant she noticed him looking her way, her face was once again expressionless and unrevealing. She left the table soon after, no doubt heading to the school to deal in her business again.
Setting aside his concerns about the behavior of the Tendos--after all, he had already come to the realization that he didn't understand them--he finished his breakfast in silence and grabbed his pack and lunch. He waited at the door until Akane showed. She seemed surprised to see him but said nothing as he walked with her.
She glanced his way when he took to the fence and sighed. He looked down at her when he heard her sigh but she was looking forward again. She didn't look sad, really, nor angry. He wasn't sure what to think but he refused to let it worry him.
He had more important things to worry about. He had been too tired when he came back the night before but he needed to pick up one of the scrolls he had hidden in the Tendo's attic.
It was one Tofu had given him, describing an ancient meditation technique. Ranma couldn't remember who Tofu had said it came from, but he remembered the description well enough.
"Emotion based ki can be dangerous," Tofu had warned. "To be effective you have to be surfeited with an emotion, to be full of it. That can lead to dangerous consequences. I'm sure you would think Ryouga the perfect example, but in fact, you are as well."
"Once you learned the Mouko Takabisha, you took to using confidence to bolster your battle aura as well, I've noticed."
"But Doc," Ranma protested, "it's not like it's gonna make me suicidal or something, so what's the problem?"
"Actually, Ranma," Tofu said, narrowing his gaze, "it could make you suicidal." He cut off Ranma's disbelieving negation. "Think about it. There are two ways in which one may be suicidal. Depression leads to suicidal tendencies, in which the individual seeks to take his own life. Confidence, on the other hand, leads to over-confidence, to an unconcern about risks that are potentially lethal. It can hamper your judgement."
Ranma considered the doctor's words as he walked beside his fiancee. The scroll he was interested in described a technique that Tofu had said could conceal the user. It had sounded a lot like one of his father's Umi-sen-ken techniques and since Ranma already knew that technique, he had set the scroll aside in favor of other scrolls describing interesting attacks, several of which he had secretly mastered.
Now, though, he was reconsidering his decision. Tofu had recommended the scroll as a counter-balance to Ranma's confidence ki. With his concerns the afternoon before about losing control, Ranma decided it was time to learn the technique of the Void and the Flame.
Kuno was near the gates as usual, awaiting his opportunity to cast his challenge. Ranma did not deign to notice him when he stepped out, spouting his usual nonsense. He simply slipped past him and into the building, leaving Akane to deal with him.
Nabiki growled softly, standing in an upper-story window. Akane pounded Kuno with her usual lack of finesse, so there certainly had been no real harm to Ranma's change of tactics. It wasn't so much what he had done that irritated her, as that she hadn't predicted it.
Why was he changing? More importantly, what did it mean for her family, for Akane? He had stopped taking Akane's mallet blows and Nabiki was worried that it meant he had simply stopped caring. "Oh, Akane," she murmured under her breath, "I hope this doesn't mean what I think it does." One last chance, that was the impression she got.
If his altered behavior after the wedding had been prompted by a recognition of his own feelings, she decided, he would not have suddenly blocked her mallet. No, the only logical explanation was that his niceness after Jusendo was him giving her one last chance for honor's sake.
What about his actually buying lunch from Ukyou yesterday, as well? It had precipitated the mallet incident and that had put it from most people's minds, but Nabiki could not afford to let crucial clues like that slip through her fingers.
It seemed a strange way to make up, Nabiki considered as she took her seat after having watched long enough to be sure that Kuno would make it in under his own power. Surely Ukyou would have been ecstatic just to have him talking to her again.
Furious as Akane had been the last few weeks, Nabiki had kept her eyes open, and knew the truth of Ranma's actions. He had not, in spite of Akane's suspicions, so much as spoken to any of his other fiancee's since the return, until yesterday.
So what could it mean that he was now actually buying his lunch from her? Paying her for what she would gladly have given him for nothing? It certainly wasn't in Ranma's nature, or at least, she would have sworn it wasn't, to refuse free food, yet that was what he had seemingly done.
That it was significant Nabiki was certain. Exactly how, she still hadn't quite figured out.
She looked up as Kuno came in looking little worse for wear from Akane's retaliation. Was her sister slipping? "Hey, Kuno-baby," Nabiki cooed as he took his seat.
He directed a glare at her then immediately softened it. She grinned inside. That soft look meant a soft touch; he wanted something.
"Tell me, Tendo-san, why the foul sorceror fled from my noble challenge this morning?"
Nabiki sighed unhappily. Stupid question, but she didn't have the answer. Not the real reason anyway and definitely not one Kuno would accept. 'Because you bore him,' would probably be close but she didn't sell guesses.
"I don't know," she admitted, "but I can find out. 2000 yen." She held out her hand and Kuno forked over the dosh.
Time passed with remarkable silence, leaving many of the students nervously awaiting the explosion they felt was long overdue. It did not come. At lunch, Ranma again purchased an okynomiyaki from Ukyou, but this time Akane made no protest.
She watched him, which her friends noticed, but there was neither sadness nor anger in her gaze, which confused them enough that they weren't sure whether he was a safe topic to bring up, and therefore avoided it.
Akane stayed after school for some club activity or other, so Ranma went home alone. Shortly after he entered his room, his door opened, and Nabiki beckoned.
He followed her to her room where she shut the door behind him. She pointed to her desk.
"Sit," she ordered.
He did so but cast an irritated gaze at her. "What's this about, Nabiki?" he asked. He wanted to obtain that scroll and start studying it. He certainly did not want to spend time dealing with one of her schemes.
His eyes narrowed a bit as he noticed that she had set up an easel in the corner of her room and resting on it was a pad of poster paper.
"You blocked Akane's mallet yesterday," Nabiki said evenly.
"Yeah, so what," he returned. Why hadn't she said anything about this before, if she was going to complain? He hoped that her easel wasn't for bar charts like he had noticed in one of the magazines she had left in the living room once. They were really boring and he didn't want to listen to another lecture about how much he was hurting her profit.
"I had to pay out a rather substantial debt because of you, Saotome," she continued, watching his reaction rather closely. She was just about certain from his reactions that he was not the one who had orchestrated that bet, in spite of the suspicions she'd had when she had read that sheet of instructions.
"And?" Ranma put as much boredom as he could in his tone.
"You surprised me," she continued. "And as a result of that bet, I have to be your sensei for a while."
Ranma looked at her strangely. "What? You ain't a sensei. You don't even practice the Art."
"Not quite correct, Saotome. I do practice an Art... two of them, actually. You're only here to learn one."
She flipped the blank sheet over top of the easel, exposing the first sheet to Ranma's questioning gaze. His eyes bugged out and he stared at her in disbelief.
She nodded firmly. "Don't fight it Saotome, you don't want to know how far I'll go to make sure you learn this."