Disclaimer: The playground is by Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only swinging on the monkey bars. Remember to leave the grounds cleaner than you found them and please don't feed the Trolls. "A Sto'r Mo Chroi'" ("Darling of my Heart" or "The American Wake") is still Traditional. "The Whistling Pig" belongs, as far as I know, to Robert Frezza. I don't know who wrote "'Tis Mute ...," I lost the book. Whoever it is, they did a good job. "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is by Simon and Garfunkle. Warning: This part is [Dark] and may very well be [Squicky] as well. Depending on how you look at it, it may also deserve a [Lemon] or [Lime] tag, too, not to mention [WAFF]. You Have Been Warned. By popular demand, the majority of this episode should be read to Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. You can find a MP3 at the site below. Don't put it on yet. I'll indicate when. This story is archived at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/ Release 1.2 (Nov. 25, 2000) ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ranma and Akane: A Love Story Chapter 5: Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi Part C: Under The Axis ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Akane almost made it. Less than fifty feet from the wall, one of her demonic pursuers proved to have an exceedingly rare talent, and shifted the ground beneath her feet. The resulting stumble cost her almost no ground; but small differences can lead to big ones. A demonic hand grabbed her flying hair less than ten feet from the wall. Twisting her torso half back towards her pursuers, Akane exploded in one last effort, lofting Sayuri's unconscious body in a flat, fast arc across the last ten feet, and over the low stone wall. As it crossed the wall it rippled in mid-air, and disappeared, and Akane went down under the impact of a dozen winged demons, a few more pulling up at the last instant. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- In the hospital bed, Sayuri gave a sudden gasp and sat half-way up and out of bed. The people attending her rushed to meet her as her eyes opened, and her father and brother quickly moved to support her as she met her mother's eyes. Blinking a few times, she seemed briefly to focus as she crossed gazes with a tearfully smiling Yuka and even gave a weak smile herself. But then her eyes fell closed and she slumped back into her father and brother's arms as a dead weight, as Dr. Tofu desperately reached for emergency materials, and the connecting monitors began to ring alarms, all their readouts showing the same flat line. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Akane threw herself into a forward roll, bringing one demon over the top of her body and grinding it beneath her as she came out of the roll and jumped up. The demon who had grabbed her hair had, perforce, let go, and Akane left her feet in a whirling jump-kick that smashed into another demon's head, breaking its neck and throwing Akane herself a little sideways, into a relatively clear area and away from the intersecting hellbolts that would otherwise have fried her. Snap-drawing her throwing knives, Akane shih-sheathed and threw them in a single motion, two knives flying from each hand to suddenly veer apart in mid-air, each knife flickering on slightly differing trajectories to settle neatly into its own particular demonic throat. Following through on her throw, Akane drew a large, ugly mace from jacket-space, and charged the remaining demons. The one most immediately in her path jumped up, flaring its wings in dismay, rising about ten feet off the ground. Akane also left the ground, soaring in a rising jump kick that smashed the demon from the air, sending it down to the ground with Akane on top of it, landing on her feet, and pulling through into a powerful downward blow. Rebounding from the skull she had just crushed, Akane converted her recovery into a powerful upwards diagonal right-to-left, anticipating the demon who attempted to rush her while she was occupied with the flyer, and impacting its chest just under the breastbone. The impact shattered the demon's chest and lungs, lifting it about six feet into the air and sending it to the side, where its corpse fouled one of its compatriots. Meanwhile, the transferred impact had allowed Akane to regain control of the mace faster, and she used the extra time to steal a march, stepping into the attack of a pair of demons ahead of her. Whirling her mace in a vertical circle, Akane knocked their weapons out of line, nearly jarring one's axe loose from its wielder's hand. Finishing the circle with her mace held horizontally, head to the left, Akane stepped behind the demon to her right, bringing her torso around in a smashing reverse blow to the back of its head with the mace's finial spike; then unwinding into a sideways blow to the demon on her left that slid over its weaponless guard to pulp its head like a popped water-balloon. Returning her mace to a mid-guard, two-hand grip, Akane turned eighty degrees to her left, to meet the charge of another demon. Blocking its sword-swing away to her lower right with the mace, Akane spun her right foot into a leg sweep that took its footing out from under it. The demon stumbled, opening its stance onto the perfect form to receive Akane's returning kick into the groin, stunning it and dropping it rolling to the ground. Quick-stepping forward, Akane brought her mace to shoulder guard for the death-blow ... and made a small mistake. A small mistake. A minor error. A downward blow a bit too forceful, a recovery a bit too far, a return not quite to center. The next attacker, coming from her left again, threw its long knife. Small differences compounded: a dodge not quite fast enough, a shallow cut across the shoulder not quite compensated for, a block made the tiniest bit too low. The demons reaching claw-like hand came over her blocking mace and cut into the side of her face. Three of its claw-tipped fingers scored bleeding gashes across the side of her face and nose. The last slid across the outer top of her cheek, and plunged into her eye, cutting the eyeball in two and reducing the remains to jelly before the tip broke off inside the socket and the rest of the claw skipped across the top of her nose. Letting out a high, keening shriek, Akane spun away, the mace arcing from the hand that she clapped to her ruined eye. Stumbling away, she lost her footing, and sprawled helpless on the barren ground. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- A body kneels in a circular design in a no-longer quiet room. Wounds have opened on its cheek and nose, and an oozing mass of clotting blood is leaking from beneath the lid of its closed left eye. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- In the end, it was her father's training that saved her. Once, long ago at the very beginning of her real training in the Art, he had spent an entire day on a single drill. It taught, he said, that a warrior must not lose focus or control simply because his or her opponent has landed a blow. The warrior who wins her fights and survives, he said, is the warrior who understands that pain is merely information, and who can acknowledge that information and go on. For one entire day he had made her go through basic kata and hit her as she reached the crucial point in each. Again and again he had repeated the drill, until she had been able to complete any kata she could do, even if she was hit painfully hard at the exact wrong time. A kindly man, Soun Tendo, and devoted to his daughter. A kindly man who had been hard for one day, for just long enough to teach that daughter a lesson in the hard rules of survival. A kindly man who had then stayed drunk for an entire week, and had never attempted to teach that lesson again. One lesson, delivered long ago by a kindly, doting parent. One lesson, polished into instinct by years of personal practice. Akane had always prided herself on being 'tough'. On being able to take a blow and still fight. 'Go ahead and hit me,' she had once told a sparring partner, 'I don't break.' In that moment, instinct and bone- deep training fought for her life, and searched for any chance at all. Rolling over as she fell, Akane's right hand scrabbled for purchase on the ground. Sliding across the dirt, it fell upon, and closed on, the hilt of a weapon. Rolling over onto her back and coming to one knee, she brought the ... blade? ... up to block away a demonic sword-blow so forcefully as to throw the demon who had perpetrated it into another to its side, then came erect with a massive, diagonal bottom-right-to-top-left slash that cut through the first demon's midsection and its compatriot's chest, exiting from the top of its right shoulder in a spray of bone and ichor. Setting her feet firmly beneath her, Akane reversed the long sword's blade and swept it back to her right, cutting off both demons' heads in passing. Rage and hatred blocked the pain, and her face was set in a snarling mask as she compensated for the missing half of her peripheral vision, turning her head in little sweeps left and right. Finding no flankers, she returned the sword to middle guard and lunged at her remaining foes. The combat was brief. Two demons were before her side-by-side, with another three in a cluster beyond them and to their left. Akane went between the first two with an attack Ranma had drilled her on, soukongou, twin thunderbolts. The long, intricately guarded hilt of the sword was perfect for controlled two-hand use, she found, and the grey, double-edged, chisel-point blade seemed positively eager, leaping to the attack and lopping off demonic heads as though they were but heads of grain. Beyond the two were three more; one leapt forward, one followed cautiously, one hung back. Akane met the first's attack with a sideways skip and a crossing blow that cut its throat before a turning kick smashed it into the third, knocking it from its feet. She stepped forward into the second's way, cutting through its guard and its body with an equal lack of ceremony. Recovering from the blow, she slid over to where the third demon sprawled, reversed her grip on the sword, and thrust downwards, once. Turning to look down the slope she had just climbed, Akane was startled to notice that the distance had changed. What had been a run of long minutes going up was perhaps a thousand yards or so going down. She supposed that was part of what Ranma had meant. Ranma. Reluctantly, she turned her single gaze to the canyon mouth. She could not see all the way into the canyon, having apparently moved a little to the side, but she noticed a thin scattering of demons spraying out from the canyon mouth. Ranma herself she could not see, but she _could_ see demons clustering thickly just inside the mouth of the canyon, walling off the exit. Further inside, a storm was raging, lightning exploding off the walls and the rocks that lined the canyon's rim. 'She isn't going to be able to break free,' she said to herself, 'they're already behind her.' 'No,' she replied quietly, 'she's not. And I think she knew that when she sent us up here.' Akane remained standing quietly, looking down on the plain below for long minutes, and the pain in her ruined eye was matched by the pain in her heart. 'She told us to get out of here,' she finally ventured. 'No,' she replied, 'she told us to get _Sayuri_ out. We've done that.' 'Look at it this way,' she argued, 'What could we do if we were with her, except die?' 'Look at it this way,' she answered, 'What can we do _without_ her, except die?' Tears slowly began to drip from her right eye, perhaps matching the slow drip of blood from the left. 'She wanted us to get out,' she said slowly, 'to survive.' Her hand came up unconsciously, gently touching the scars on her left cheek, slowly exploring their extent. '_I_ don't want us to get out, or survive, unless she survives too.' Her probing fingers encountered her eye socket. 'And besides, some bastard down there owes us an eye.' 'So we go down there and die?' she asked. 'So we go down there,' she replied, 'and die.' Akane withdrew her sword from its resting place with a *squelch* and took her first step down the slope. Two steps later she was jogging. Three steps after that, and then she ran. The outriders were the first to notice her. Spreading out from the main battle, most were, by definition, looking for something safer to do than challenging an Invincible. A wounded girl running toward them looked tailor made. They formed a battle line and sent out a net of skirmishers, in case she should get away. Yelling their battle cries, they raised arms against her. As well might the iron ingots cry out against the blast furnace. As well might the stalks of wheat take up the sword against the scythe. Reaching the entrance to the canyon, she was momentarily distracted by a small squad of demonic soldiers making a suicide attack from just outside the canyon to her right. As the last demon died Akane saw, beyond it, a small secondary canyon leading off into the badlands in a new direction. Spinning on her heel, she ran swiftly into the mouth of the canyon proper, cutting down another small party of demons. Just inside the canyon mouth she ran into the main horde, beyond them she could catch glimpses of lightning fast destruction. Cursing, Akane plowed into the back of the demonic army, desperately swiveling her head from side to side to scan the whole field of her foes. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- In a room both near and far away another battle was taking place. Dr. Tofu instituted emergency resuscitation procedures as another doctor, hastily summoned, ran in the door. The crackle of electrical paddles and the humm-hiss of artificial respiration units sounded over the numbed prayers of Sayuri's father and brother and Yuka's weeping, muffled by Sayuri's mother's chest. In the circle in the corner, two bodies grew and healed collections of wounds. Gashes and scars covering exposed arms and occasionally tracing across still faces. Battle wounds, Nabiki knew. The minor and major injuries sustained by people who are fighting for life, or things more precious yet. Clenching her hands into white-knuckled balls she silently urged them on. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Turn ... block left, strike up ... v-step over blow ... pear-splitter ... helicopter ... circle block to low thrust feint to v-strike inverted. Don't bother with _their_ actions; they aren't important. Victory is achieved by the correct control of flow and timing. Act in such a manner as to force their errors, then take advantage. Twin-thunderbolt ... break-the-fortress ... spin around push, and _kick_ ... slash-feint to lunge ... parry to riposte, turn left and _strike_. Don't listen to your doubts or fears, listen to her voice. Beloved voice, '"When they outnumber you, you have to get in amongst 'em, Acchan. Remember that they may be bigger than you and they may be better than you, but you don't _ever_ have to let them be _meaner_ than you. So _use that advantage_! And don't get killed. It'd make me get all depressed."' Low-to-high-to-high-to-low diagonal cross ... jump and _cut_ ... feint left and roll right and slash _up_ and then whirl to block and _heave_. A demon went flying into a group of its fellows and then Akane heard the roar. Before her the demonic army lifted up into the air as Ranma called the Hiryuu Shoten Ha again. And there she was, riding the cyclone up into the sky. If Akane had had a rope, she could have thrown it to her and yanked her away to where she could run. Akane had no rope to throw, but she threw one anyway. "_Ranchaaan!_ _CATCH!_" To say that Ranma was startled would be to considerably underestimate the case. She had been concentrating on her quest to find a worthwhile, accessible target to the exclusion of all else, and had not seen Akane's charge. As she caught the rope and began to swing she also began to rage. Catching up the power of her storm, she collected it and let the winds die. Sending a small amount of power down the rope, she fixed a point midway down in space and swung to a landing near Akane. As she neared she began to snarl, but then caught sight of Akane's face and fell silent as her heart sent up a wail of grief. "Acchan, wha...." "SHADDAP! RUN! THAT WAY!" Suiting deed to word, Akane pounded for the rear mouth of the canyon. Re-sheathing her sword, Ranma followed. Behind then a roar went up, and the demonic armies lunged for the canyon mouth in pursuit. As she reached the rear of the canyon, Ranma stopped and whirled. Concentrating all the power she had remaining from the storm that had raged in that canyon, she made a small change to its substance, and released it into the canyon walls. Already sensitized by repeated battle strikes and magic releases, the walls responded. The upper six meters of their surface turned to energy and roared out onto the frontal plain, focused by the remaining walls. The canonical sound-effect for this type of action is: *Krakata-THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!* Ranma and Akane fled into the side canyon, quickly finding that it forked and re-forked, spreading out into a web of pathways. Ranma led, changing pathways randomly as she ran. "So," she panted, "what's the plan?" "Fuck if I know," Akane responded, "I hoped _you'd_ have one." "Oh great! We're gonna die!" On the plain in front of the canyon a shining figure rose to its feet, smoking. Slowly, it looked around itself, and sprang into the air and rose, shining like a star. As it rose, it let off a roar of hate and rage that can only be described as cataclysmic. Over her shoulder as she ran, Ranma glimpsed the shining figure. "Oh great! We really _are_ gonna die!" The First of the Fallen looked down from his height at the canyon-maze where his enemies hid. More or less at random, he destroyed part of it. It wasn't the right part, but the demons who had been flying down it got to die forever in excruciating agony anyway. Ranma ran frantically, Akane on her heels. She ducked around a corner and fled down a side passage, picking a new direction at random at its end. 'We're _dead_!', she said to herself, 'We can't hold off the First. We can't get _to_ him, and there isn't _anywhere_ he can't go after us!' Two passages later, she replied, quietly, 'Yes there is.' A dash down a rocky corridor, '_Oh_ no. We gotta save Acchan's life here. We can't go _there_! Fuck, that'll kill her too!' Turn left, down the canyon floor, left again. 'Death _there_ may be retrievable. Death at the first's hands is not. This is a fight to save Akane. _That_ is how we win. Do it, Invincible!' Skidding to an instant halt, balanced on her back foot, Ranma formed her fingers into the call position for the Butterfly's Kiss. Done one way, this technique will reduce rock to powder. Done another, it will rend a human being asunder. As Ranma did it now, the floor of the canyon for a hundred yards in front of the two girls broke apart into small square surfaces which vanished like a bad CGA effect, leaving a gaping hole down into a black infinity. Slamming to a halt on the very edge of disaster, Akane sheathed her sword in automatic reflex, waving her arms for balance. Behind her, Ranma exploded off her back foot, gathering Akane into her arms and jumping out with a mighty leap. Out over the rift, and then down, into the dark. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Paddles snapped and contacts closed. Sayuri's body jerked in reaction, and then moved, slightly, on its own. Monitors jerked off flatline and began to *beep*. And the watchers around the bed slumped slightly in relief. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- And in the sky over a blasted plain, a shining figure howled in a frustrated rage forty centuries old. And in a castle in the Scottish highlands, the redhead fell down, shocked. The short-haired brunette shivered, uneasily, and the long- haired one looked up from what she was doing to trade worried glances with the blue-skinned man with the odd face and the blonde girl with the tail. The tall blonde man near the hearth looked clueless, of course, but _that_ was normal, so nobody noticed. And in the choking darkness of the depths of the Pacific Ocean something awoke and stirred. Tasting Wrong, it turned its head toward the distant invisible light. And in a shrine in the mountains of central Japan, a man came upright from a position of meditation. And in a gun shop in Chicago, two young woman shivered briefly, as though feeling a chill breeze. And in a business office in Hong Kong, a middle-aged woman echoed them. And in a clean, well-lit room in the sewers under New York City, another meditator came awake. And in a small town in America, a man turned to his scrying crystal. And in a city made of stone, the chorus of bells fell silent. And in many other places, many people shivered, or turned to search out an enemy, or used senses magical or mundane to track down a sudden feeling of Bad. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- In circles within another circle two bodies sat silently. And exhaled, with a long, quavering hiss. And did not breathe again. Outside the circle, Tendo Nabiki put her face into her hands and began, silently, to cry. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- You can turn off 'O Fortuna' now, if you like. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- | | | | \ / : Down. It was dark. And silent. There was no light, no sound. Not even the rush of wind. Not even the flashes you get behind closed eyelids. Just darkness, and silence. And she was all alone. And she f e l l d o w n . Darkness. It was dark, and she was falling all alone. All alone. There was nothing she could see, nothing she could touch. She moved her hands, waved them about, but there was nothing. She patted herself, to make sure that _she_ was there, and she was. So that was something. She felt her face. (Her eye! Her eye was gone!) (It had been gone) (before) (before it was dark) (when she stood at the wall) (and turned away) (press on.) She patted her chest and shoulders, she moved down her body, and touched ... what? Arms? Why were there arms? Were they _her_ arms? But they couldn't be _her_ arms, because she couldn't feel herself feel them. So whose? Then she remembered. Ranma! Ranma was with her! They must be Ranma's arms. Ranma was with her! She wasn't alone! She clasped her hands over the arms where they crossed, and held them. They were Ranma's arms, she was with Ranma, falling down, into the dark. They fell, and civilizations fell with them, and were reborn from dust, and grew again, and flourished, and faded, and fell once more. And worlds passed by, and gave birth to life and grew old and died. And suns grew old, and died, and new suns were born; and Galaxies were born, grew up, grew old, crashed together, and died, and were reborn in fire. And Universes ended and new universes began, and time went by, and the Wheel turned round, and she was with Ranma, and Ranma was with her, and it was dark, and they fell down . ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Hold on! You must hold on. If your grip fails, you end, and she ends, and you fail. If _her_ grip fails, the same. Will her strength, will her to hold. No way of telling, no way of knowing. Until it's too late to help. And it is dark and silent and there is no way to tell if your grip will hold and no way to tell if _she_ even _is_ holding and if either fails both fail but this is a fight and you cannot lose a fight and you are Invincible but there is a cost there is always a cost and the cost may be more than you can pay and it is not enough to hold out you must also survive to guide _her_ out and if you spend all your power now and leave none but you must win you must spend the power to win you must and if you have not the power then you must find more and will _her_ power she must have power and it must be enough ... ...and you must hold ... ... and love must find a way ... ... and if it does, or if it does not ... ... hold on. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- There is a place that is not a place. In that place there is an Ocean, that is not an Ocean. And the water of that Ocean (that is not water) rolls forever flat and still, beneath a starless, moonless, sunless sky. (Though some say it is a desert, and that the sand is black, and harsh, and does not gleam. (Though there is no light in that place _to_ gleam.)) When you go there (and you will) you will find nothing, except that which you bring. No guides bring boats there, no one will ferry you across. You must go yourself, using only what you have, and it will take you however long it takes, and it will cost you whatever it may cost. And all these things, of course, are metaphor, for a somewhat more complex reality. Into that place, Ranma brought Akane, and Akane brought Ranma. Into a place where there is nothing, except that which is brought, they brought each other, falling from an infinite velvet sky. And the night-black water (that is not water) of that ocean (that is not an ocean) swallowed them. Without a splash. Without a ripple. Without a sound. And in that place of silence, silence reigned. Briefly. Until the sky began to fill with light. With a sprinkling of burning dust. With a widening scatter of illuminated diamonds, and with luminescent shards of emerald, and amethyst, and ruby, and topaz, and pearl. As though someone had taken the combined gem collections of the world's museums, and smashed them with a sledge-hammer, and set the shards afire, and scattered them across the endless velvet sky. For in that place you will find nothing, except that which you bring with you. And Bushiko Ranma, whose name had once been otherwise and would be otherwise again, surfaced from the nighted depths of that ocean that is not an ocean, and brought Akane up with her. And lay on her back in the velvet water that is not water, and held her beloved to her breast while she coughed and sputtered. And smiled upwards, tiredly, into the sky. And the sky was _alight_ with stars. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- *Cough*, *hkk*, *cough*. A small voice, "Ranchan?" "Yeah?" "Are we dead?" "Kind of. It depends." A small time went by. Finally, Ranma shook herself slightly and turned over in the water, still holding Akane above the surface. "I _wondered_ why you didn't get in the pool the other day." "I've never been able to swim," Akane confessed ashamedly. "Well, fortunately, you won't have to." Ranma stretched out and began swimming, for a few strokes. "Huh?" Ranma's hand touched wood. "Look up for a minute, dummy." Akane heaved herself upright in the water, turned to bring her good eye into arc, and gaped in shock at the white wood of the hull of the sailboat bobbing gently in the water before her. Ranma suddenly boosted her toward the gunwale and she grabbed it and scrambled over, ('Don't look at her for a minute, dummy, you don't need the distraction of seeing her all wet in that silk shirt. And this might not be a good place to confess to being in love with her. And _don't_ think about where she just put her hand!') into the bow of the twenty foot long lateen-rig. "Ranchan! Where'd _this_ thing come from?" Ranma reached up and grabbed, then heaved herself over the side, ('Don't look at her, dummy, you don't need the distraction of seeing her all wet in that silk shirt. And you need to get moving if you're going to get her back in time. And _don't_ think about where you just put your hand!' into the stern.) "Huh. Funny, it's gotten a little bigger." Ranma kept her head down and rummaged around the mast. "Ahh." She released a rope and brought the main spar into line, quickly raising and setting the sail. "Hey Acchan. Thanks." "Huh? For what, Ranchan?" "For coming after me. For coming _back_ after me. ... I guess you were right. I _did_ need you." Akane blushed, and stared intently at the deck. "Ahh, any time Ranchan. Any time." Akane suddenly felt a breeze begin to blow, raising a slight swell, and causing the little ship to gather way. "Now, Miss Tendo, if you will be so good as to summon and maintain a light, so we can see where we are going, I will try to get us to shore, where we can see about not having to _stay_ dead." Akane blinkied for a few moments, then scrambled to her feet. "Sure, Ranchan!" She held out her hands, concentrated, and summoned Fire; creating a fiercely burning beacon that sent out a cone of light to pierce the gloom before them. Before the wind, the little ship sped across the darkened ocean, bow- wave peeling back to either side and wake spreading out behind them, far off into the eternal night. They flew towards an unseen destination for an unmeasurable time, and Akane held the beacon steady before them, feeling an unexplainable exaltation, as though some factor in the sea or the boat or the wind was calling to her in wild delight. All things must end, however, and finally Akane saw a dark line at the limits of her beacon's reach. A line that rapidly drew nearer, revealing itself as a dark, sandy beach stretching across the ocean as far as she could see. Exultantly she shouted, "Ranchan, Ranchan, Land!" Heedful of her words, Ranma dismissed the wind and quickly lowered the sail. Running up the slope of one final swell, the graceful ship remained poised at apex for a brief moment before slipping over, and sliding down the long, shallow slope to run itself into the beach with a long, slithering hiss. Jumping down from the little ship's bow, Akane got out of the way of its rush, and stood waiting as Ranma walked to the bow, likewise jumped down, and tugged her jacket straight. Adjusting her scarf to her satisfaction, Ranma caught Akane's eye and winked. Then she started up the beach, walking strongly and swiftly. Akane followed, wordlessly. About a hundred yards up the beach, the sand gave way to rocks of varying sizes. Akane also noted the beginnings of a gradual slope, and began to dimly perceive a darker wall looming ahead. Ranma set out over the rockpiles toward this distant object, warning Akane in a low voice to be careful of her footing. Akane was well aware of the problem, gingerly stepping over and around stones and shifting piles of gravel, keeping her good eye sweeping back and forth, searching out the best path. Traveling on a few dozen yards, Akane looked up to discover that they had come to the base of a towering ridge, looming up into the darkness, barely outlined by the light from the gleaming stars. Ranma, she noticed, was not going up the slope, but rather searching along its base. Akane followed her along, gingerly testing her way across the treacherous scree. At last, Ranma gave a muffled exclamation of triumph. "Ha! Found it! I _swear_ the bloody thing moves! Come on, Acchan. Come over here." Akane picked her way up a small sub-slope and around a large boulder, to discover a stone nook set about ten feet into the wall of a sheer cliff. It was enclosed on four sides out of five, and was open to the sky over less than a third its roof. The boulders and rock-faces that surrounded it were coated with mossy accumulations that must have been centuries old, and she noted a great tap-root crawling over the top of one wall and over a square lip of ancient, worked stone, down into the pool of water that filled most of the interior of the hollow. Ranma knelt on a convenient rock at the edge of the pool and dipped cupped hands into it, bringing up palmfuls of water and drinking them down several times. Ranma then bent over and dipped her head into the water, ducking under to her neck and shaking her head back and forth. At Ranma's indicative motion, Akane also knelt and drank. The water was cool and pure, quenching her thirst on first contact and then returning it again so that the second drink was even more welcome than the first, and the third more welcome than the second. After five drinks, she stopped being thirsty, sitting back with a long sigh and feeling the internal fires soothed and quenched by the healing water, only to reignite again, stronger, purer, and higher than before. Motioning Akane to tilt her head back, Ranma dipped another palmful of water and poured it onto Akane's face, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe away the blood and serum. The water was cool and refreshing on her face, and Akane felt the pain begin to ease. More importantly, she quickly lost the immediate awareness of injury, and for the first time since her maiming she could truly concentrate on her surroundings. Seeing the relief in her face, Ranma grinned at her. "Good stuff, huh?" "Uh-huh. That's _much_ better, yeah. Thanks, Ranchan. Umm, Ranchan?" "Yeah?" "Now what?" "Now we go up the cliff. About a hundred yards of climbing, and then we should hit a ravine and be able to walk." "How much time do we have?" "It's not so much time as intent, Acchan. As long as we don't slow down, get side-tracked or turn back, we'll be fine." "Well, let's get going then." As they rose to their feet, Akane had a thought. Lagging behind for a moment, she drew the sword she had found and dipped it in the pool, drawing it out and wiping it off with a cloth before returning it to its sheath. At Ranma's questioning look she shrugged, "Can't hurt ...." ** She was climbing ** search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip ** up a wall. ** move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach ** It was dark ** grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find ** and quiet, ** reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan ** and she ** find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search ** must spend more time, ** scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move ** too much time, ** search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip ** to find a way ** move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach ** that she could go. ** grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find ** Her arms hurt, ** reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan ** and she must move them, ** find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search ** her legs trembled, ** scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move ** but they must stay firm. ** search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip ** It was hard, ** move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach ** and she was tired, ** grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find ** and afraid. ** reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan ** But there was moss ** find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search ** for her to feel, ** scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move ** jeweled starlight above ** search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip ** to light her way, ** move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach ** and the dark ** grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find ** was far behind her, ** reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan ** like broken prison bars; ** find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search ** and she was with Ranma, ** scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move ** and Ranma was with her, ** search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip ** and they climbed up ** move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach ** to find the stars. ** The climb was fairly brutal for Akane, her missing eye no longer hurting, but still hampering her field of view and depth perception. Finding hand-holds was harder; routes must be scrutinized more closely. Plus, a climb up a sheer rock face coated with moss in deep darkness is almost guaranteed to be an event long worth remembering. But, in the end, they reached the deeply cut, steep ravine, and began to climb the long slope. Now the going was somewhat easier, but also, paradoxically, harder. Akane needed to expend less physical and mental effort to move and to find her way, but this left her more time for brooding. Brooding was not, typically, the sort of thing that Akane did. She had always been one to resolve a situation in as little time as possible. Typically abruptly, in a manner that involved violence. This extended feeling of malaise was not something that she was well prepared to deal with. It was basicly, she decided, All Her Fault. If she hadn't come tagging along behind Ranma and jogging her arm, she would certainly have handled it better. She was just ... no good, really. It was harsh, but there it was. She loved Ranma dearly, but she knew that she did not deserve her. She never would deserve her. She'd just keep getting in to trouble and Ranma would come get her out and one day .... All Her Fault. She should just ... she should .... Walking in her own cloud of gloom, Ranma was drearly certain that she had forfeited any friendship Akane might ever offer her. She'd gotten her _eye_ cut out, for Kami-sama's sake! It was just impossible, she had no right .... Akane sighed mournfully, and Ranma immediately jerked her attention back to the 'real' world. Akane was definitely drooping, she noted. That would not do. Travel here in the celestial borderlands was as much a matter of will as of physical effort; despair could be fatal, in a literal sense. She would have to cheer the other girl up, immediately. But what could she do that wouldn't seem fake? Then she realized that she was being silly. Cases like this were what music was _made_ for, after all. Adjusting her stride to tap out the beat, Ranma raised her voice in song. When you're weary, feeling small When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all. I'll take your part, Oh, when times get rough And friends just can't be found Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down It came as a complete shock to Akane, and broke her out of her funk immediately. Nonetheless, surprise held her voiceless for the first verse, a warm glow of love rising from her diaphragm to fill her whole body. On the second verse, she joined in. When you're down and out, when you're on the street When evening falls so hard, I will comfort you I'm on your side, Oh, when darkness comes And pain is all around Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down Oddly, Ranma found, she was feeling better too. And, to her, it wasn't just a song. It was a promise. Though she did not know it, Akane was thinking almost the exact same thing. The final verse rolled out sweetly, pushing back the night. Sail on, Silver girl, sail on by Your time has come to shine, all your dreams are on their way See how they shine, Oh, when you need a friend I'm sailing right behind And like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind. Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind. Ranma laughed delightedly. "Sorry, Acchan, I was letting the gloom get to me too, I think. The problem with this walk is keeping yourself from getting depressed." "Yeah, Ranchan, I was feeling down, too. I think it's the scenery, it's too dark. Is there a song we could concentrate on for a while?" "Mmmm. Sounds like a job for a marching song, really. Do you know 'The Whistling Pig'?" "No, never heard of it. How does it go?" "Like this:" Well, we're having a war, and we'd like for you to come, so the Pig began to whistle, and to pound upon the drum, We'll give you a gun, and we'll furnish you a hat! And the Pig began to whistle, when they told the Piggies that. Akane began to whistle too, stepping off in time to the beat, matching Ranma's pace. Ranma continued the song, recounting the many adventures and misadventures of the Whistling Pig, and Akane came in on the choruses, soon finding and holding the melody line. As she sang, she began to hear flashes of song, prefiguring things Ranma put in the verses later, and eventually she began taking the occasional verse herself, efforts that Ranma praised as very authentic. The Pig put on his webbing, and he shined his bayonet. Some people started shooting, so he shot them, with regret, He couldn't run an office and he couldn't be a clerk, cause a Pig that likes to whistle likes to whistle while he works. Oh, we're having a war, .... As she continued on, walking to the beat with a rhythmic tramp, it almost seemed to Akane as though she and Ranma were not alone. It almost seemed as though they walked in the center of a great host of people, soldiers, who marched or trudged or tramped along, variously equipped and conditioned, but undefeated and able, and they, too, were singing. Wars are sometimes over, and they garnisheed his pay. They took his hat and webbing, and they took his gun away. They told him they were thankful, and they split him north to south, and they fried him with a whistle and an apple in his mouth. Oh, we're having a war, .... The ghostly host began to fade from Akane's sight, until only a last, dedicated band remained. Before her, she saw a wide river, crossed by no bridge. To the side across the river, she spied the obsidian walls of the city of stone. The ghosts began to stamp their feet at the end of each line, making a hollow *boom* like the sounding of a great drum, far away. Akane fell silent and the soldiers followed suit, and Ranma raised her voice again, in what Akane recognized somehow must be the verse that closed the song. One day there won't be fighting (*boom*) and we'll put our guns away. (*boom*) Men will love each other, (*boom*) and we'll all join hands to pray. (*boom*) Peace will come forever, (*boom*) people won't get shot and die, (*boom*) and on that day, the Pigs will spread their wings, _and learn to fly!_ Oh, we're having a war, and we'd like for you to come, so the Pig began to whistle, and to pound upon the drum, We'll give you a gun, and we'll furnish you a hat! And the Pig began to whistle, when they told the Piggies that. They came to the bank of the river, and Akane saw that the river was filled with dust. Ranma gave the ghostly soldiers a casual salute, which they returned before fading away. Ranma then waded out into the river to her knees, and turned back to Akane and held out her hand. Akane waded into he river likewise, and took it. Ranma set out across, holding her hand tightly, and was quickly up to her neck. Akane held her breath as her head slipped under the surface of the flowing dust, but it did not seem to get into her nose or mouth, or hinder her breathing. She _did_ notice that there were occasional thin streams of water mixed in with the dust, and an accidental encounter with one revealed to her that they were salty. Though it did not choke her, the dust did stick to her skin, and the streams of tears only turned some of it to mud where it clung. Emerging from the river on the other side both Ranma and Akane were covered by a caking of dust and mud so that they were entirely white. Turning up the worn stone street towards the wall, Akane noticed that the dust was falling off with each step, and that the mud was drying up and flaking away. By the time they were sixty yards from the river the only traces it had left were a few grey smudges on their faces. Akane felt very tired, and was engaged in wishing it were over when the bells began to sound. Just as before, the low rumble of stone was picked up and echoed before breaking free in heartrending glory. Just as before the stone song was enhanced by the music of countless bells. Just as before she was overcome by the beauty of the music, and she began to turn back to hear it more closely when Ranma grabbed her hand, pulling her along. They were almost at the wall when a new factor was added. Above the glory of the bells, high and clear and impossibly sweet, rose a voice. Somehow, Akane recognized it as the voice of the young girl with the blue T-shirt she had met in Death's house, and it sang to her and Ranma now in verses she heard once before. Ranma had sung them at the funeral, power and beauty both, and she was glad for Ranma's hand, else she should have certainly run back to the city to comfort its mournful longing. A sto'r mo chroi', when you're far away From the home that you'll soon be leaving, 'Tis many the time, by night and by day, That your heart will sorely be grieving. For the stranger's land it is bright and fair, And rich in treasures golden, But you'll pine I know for the long, long ago, And the love that never is olden. They reached the wall. As before, it was low and weathered. It could be no trouble to get across, even for a cripple. And yet, somehow, Akane was reluctant. Somehow, she knew, the wall was as much a guardian as a barrier. Somehow, it would extract a toll. Mutely, she turned back to Ranma in an appeal for another way, but Ranma's eyes, gentle but stern, offered no compromise. As the song closed a verse, Akane took a deep breath, and stepped across. To Ranma's sight, she rippled, and was gone. A sto'r mo chroi', in the stranger's land, There is plenty of wealth for the willing. Where jewels adorn the great and the grand, While our faces with hunger are paling. Yet the road may be toilsome, and hard to tread, And the lights of their cities may blind you. Then turn a sto'r, to the eastern shore, And the ones that you're leaving behind you. Quietly Ranma stood, looking at the wall herself for a moment of silent appraisal, before turning to look back down into the city. Her features softened, but then hardened again, and she raised her right hand and held it high for a moment. As the song began its final verse, her hand gave off a flash of white light, momentarily throwing the wall and the ground before it into high relief. As the flash faded, Ranma turned around, and stepped across. A sto'r mo chroi', when the evening mists, O'er Mountain and Sea are falling, Then turn aside from the throng and list' And maybe you'll hear me calling. For the sound of a voice that I sorely miss, For somebody's quick returning, Ohh! A ru'n, a ru'n, won't you come back soon, To the love that always is burning? As Ranma crossed the wall, she too vanished. From the city of stone, the song grew mournful, and as it finished the chorus of bells also ended, and then the silence, and the tears, returned. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Nabiki was no longer weeping. Tears would serve no further purpose, and she still had a duty to perform. Ranma had asked of her a service, and she had agreed. She did not see that the service held any further value, but she would perform it faithfully nonetheless. Precise fulfillment of contractual terms reflected on her honor, and Nabiki was a stickler for things like that. Mourning silently, she knelt in formal seiza, watching over the dead bodies of her sister and her friend. She would watch for 48 hours, and nothing would disturb them for that time. Let the doctors know what price had been paid, and who had paid it. 48 hours, and then she must take charge of the arrangements. They must have another funeral. She quailed internally at the very thought, but it fell to her to achieve. One thing, though, she would at least be spared. She would watch over the bodies and therefore, therefore _someone else_ would make the phone call. Someone else would have to tell Kasumi and Daddy. It was a form of cowardice, she knew, but with all of her soul she was thankful. That task, above all others, was one she could not face. 'Oh, Akane!' she mourned,'Why did you go and do something that stupid?' Though it was a rhetorical question, she knew. Akane had followed her friend. No! Say it, Nabiki! Akane had been in love with Ranma, and Ranma had been in love with Akane. Akane had followed her lover, and had died with her. At least they had died in battle, if she was any judge, and she also judged that they had died together. Whatever else, she _knew_ they were together now. She supposed that she ought to be angry at Akane for falling in love with someone like Ranma, but she could not be. Her sister had never shown a trace of lesbianism before; she _would_ have noticed. And she had been so ... so _grey_ before, and _she_ had not been able to help, and then Ranma came, and Akane was so happy after. She could not begrudge that happiness; and if it had cost her sister her life, well, no-one had forced her to go beside Ranma. Perhaps she had felt the risk of dying beside her beloved was less than that of living without her. In a detached way, Nabiki could understand that. Tracing the lines of their faces with her eyes, and following the new scars, Nabiki made a silent pledge. Ranma and Akane had not died through mischance. Someone had taken her sister and her friend from her. She did not know who, but she would. And then Someone was going to pay. Pay dearly, and pay interest. Tendo Nabiki became emotional over few things, but _no-one_ injured her family and walked away undamaged. It was a matter of honor, it was a matter of pride, and it was especially a matter of being very, _very_ angry. Dr. Tofu straightened from his ministrations and sighed in relief. Already she was recovering. Recovering at a very great rate, too. She would, he felt, be recovered sufficiently to leave the hospital in a day or three. Turning to her father, he relayed this news, softening the man's profuse thanks embarrassedly. It was not his victory, but two others', and he turned to check on them. Even from across the room, he knew, and his heart froze within him. Still, he moved over to be certain. Nabiki felt the presence of Dr. Tofu behind her. "48 hours." There was little humanity in her voice, only a vast and implacable purpose. He began to say something, but then reconsidered. "48 hours," he agreed. "Would you like me to call your house?" Nabiki turned a grateful face toward him, and smiled weakly. "Thank you, Tofu-sensei. I ...." In a city made of stone, a chorus of bells fell silent, though neither Nabiki or Tofu could hear them. In her circle, Akane gasped in air and arched her back, falling to her side and writhing out of the circle, keening in agony. They whirled back around and gaped at the sight of Ranma, head back and body locked, mouth gaping open in a long, silent scream. Akane inadvertently recalled their attention with a strangled whimper. Nabiki lunged to her sister's side, but Ranma got there first anyway. Cradling Akane's head in her arms, Ranma held her upright. Akane gasped, "Hurts, Ranchan." "Shh, Acchan, I know. It'll get better soon." Nabiki took a towelette from Dr. Tofu and used it to clean off the wounds on Akane's cheek, dreading what she knew she must see when Akane opened her eyes. Akane, feeling the gentle motion, gathered her energy and looked to see who was cleaning her, blurrily she saw ... "N-neechan? That you? Ranchan?" Seeing Nabiki's stunned stare, she continued, "Neechan? Is it ... my eye? I know it must look awful ...." "Oh, I don't know," Ranma smiled slowly, "_I_ think it makes you look ... rakish, really." Akane frowned at her, vaguely, and Ranma pulled out a mirror and held it before her face. Akane frowned at it; it wouldn't come into focus. It was all blurry, but it was odd. It seemed as though it was blurry in _both_ eyes, which made no sense at all. Then it did focus, and she gasped. There was her right eye, large and dark brown like it had always been. But where there should have been a mate to its left, or else a bloody ruin, was instead a deep black well, shot through with swirling flecks of red and gold. Akane tried to deal with the concept, but quickly gave up the idea as much too complicated. She was more tired and bore more minor injuries than she had ever had in her life, and all she wanted to do was go home. Ranma wobbled unsteadily to her feet and pulled Akane up after her. After checking with Dr. Tofu that Sayuri was all right, she got Akane moving and headed out the door to the Dojo, leaving Nabiki to deal with anything that came up. Nabiki, unwilling to be put off lunged after them and held them up, saying, "Hold on, you two. You don't leave until you tell me what the _hell_ just happened!" Ranma and Akane looked at each other for a moment, then turned back to Nabiki. "Nothing special, Oneechan." "No big deal, really." In unison, "Just routine." Chucking tiredly, they staggered out, brushing past Dr. Tofu, who made a move to stop them, but then shrugged, and let them go. Nabiki looked after the departing duo exasperatedly. Then she slowly smiled. Internally, she cancelled her pledge of vengeance and made a note to buy a great deal of incense and prayer candles. She didn't know just which god she now owed a debt to, but she should probably do some scatter-shot sacrificing anyway; it was a small price to pay for a miracle. Mentally, she made a list. First, she had to see about a few temples. Then she was going to go home and check that Akane was really all right. Then she was going to tear a long, bleeding strip off her for scaring her like that. Whistling in relief, she headed out the door herself. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Somehow, she had kept awake long enough to get home. Staggering in the door of her room, she took off her jacket and hung it up. Then her legs failed her, and she just managed to sit down on the bed. Ranchan wanted her to do something, and she nodded vaguely, and she was _so_ tired, she'd do it in a minute, she'd get right up and ... and she'd ... she'd get up from where she was laying down and she'd .... A small snore came from Akane where she lay on her side on her bed, fast asleep. Ranma frowned and came over to the bed, shaking her shoulder lightly. This accomplished nothing, and Ranma sat down heavily to try to think what to do. Absently, she stroked Akane's hair gently. She would leave Acchan to her sleep, she decided, and go back to her apartment. She'd get right up and do it now. Yup. She'd get ... right ... up ... and .... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Nabiki arrived home with a mission. She was going to kill her little sister on grounds of familial imperilment (viz: risking her, Nabiki's neck when she would have had to explain things to Dad). Skipping up the steps she listened at Akane's door, but heard nothing. Quietly, she opened the door to confirm that Akane was not present, and gaped at the sight within. On the bed lay Akane and Ranma, arms and legs intertwined, Akane's face pressed into Ranma's shoulder, raven hair entwining with sunset scarlet, deeply asleep. Nabiki smiled wistfully, and quietly closed the door. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Next: Ranma and Akane: A Love Story Chapter 6: Immediate Consequences Part A: The Night Before The Morning After 'Til Then, Eric Hallstrom 01/16/2001