Yes, won a rude, arrogant, sex-changing freak, a part of her mind chimed in nastily. She squashed that thought. Ranma was very handsome. Indeed, even as a girl, he was devastatingly attractive. How many brides, Akane wondered ruefully, were jealous of their husband's figure? Again, she brushed the thought aside.

     She had long dreamed of this day. Many of those dreams had been nightmares, but most of them had been a lot like this. Though she would never have admitted it aloud, she had waited a long time for this day -- for this moment. Now that it had finally come, it seemed unreal -- like it was all still just a dream.

     Ranma was like no boy that she had ever met before, the obvious considerations notwithstanding. He was often arrogant, abrasive and rude -- at times it seemed like he was trying to make her angry. But in those rare moments when he let his guard down, she could see how much he cared.

     No matter how much they had fought, no matter how many insults they had exchanged, he had always been there for her. He had never let her down when it mattered. He had never been able to say it in words, to Akane's intense frustration, but surely that was proof that he cared. Ranma had fought for her every time -- and he had always won.

     There were occasions when he looked at her, times that he did not know she could see him, when he would let his feelings show. In those unguarded moments, she could see in his eyes how much he loved her.

     It had taken her a long time to come to these conclusions, and longer to accept them as reality. There were times when she still doubted -- times when she was sure it was all a dream, that what she wanted masked what was. But here, now, gazing at her husband and seeing him smile, Akane was truly content.

     The reception itself was an exercise in chaos theory. There was food and drink, music and lots of noise. For the most part, though, Ranma and Akane didn't even notice. Though they drank each of the toasts, they really weren't paying attention. They had eyes only for each other.

     Ranma was not entirely sure what he was feeling... He was excited, and scared (though he would never have admitted it) and nervous all at the same time. When he looked at Akane, and saw how truly beautiful she was, it was almost more than he could manage to keep the tremors out of his voice, or his movements. No technique he had learned, no battle he had fought had given him quite this same thrill.

     Looking toward one end of the room, Ranma saw that his father and Akane's were well on their way through another bottle of sake. The two men were still incoherent with joy now that the wedding they had so hoped for had taken place. If only the damned fools knew, Ranma thought to himself. If only they knew that it could have happened much sooner had they just minded their own damned business. He would never have fought their wishes, nor his own heart with such ferocity, had they not been pushing so hard. Ranma and Akane both hated to be pushed.

     Still, maybe there was some good to be taken from all of it. People never really appreciated things that came too easily. If you had to fight for a thing, you generally took better care of it once you had it. Of one thing Ranma was certain. After having struggled for so long to admit to himself his feelings for Akane, after having fought for her so many times, and after having come so close to losing her, he would never take her for granted.

     Ranma's musings were interrupted somewhat as he was expected to pay at least minimal attention to some of the speeches that were being made. Soun's comments were all but unintelligible through his joyful sobbing, and Genma's... well, Genma seldom made too much sense at the best of times.

     Ukyou said a few words, and even managed to smile for Akane's benefit, though it seemed more than a little forced. After several more rounds of comments from various friends and well-wishers, Nodoka motioned for attention, and announced that she had a special presentation that she wanted to make.

     A shocked silence descended on the room as Nodoka brought out a carefully wrapped bundle -- a bundle that Ranma knew well. He and his father had lived in terror of that package ever since their trip to Jyusenkyou. For an instant an instinctive chill went through Ranma, but that was over now... in the past. His mother was still smiling happily, and so Ranma allowed himself to relax.

     Carefully, Nodoka set the bundle down in front of her and began unwrapping it. A collective gasp went up as she withdrew the contents. The katana was a work of art, from the long lacquered sheath that protected the razor sharp steel blade to the tsuba that bore the Saotome crest and the carefully wrapped handle; it was an elegant weapon from a more civilised age.

     "This blade has been in the Saotome clan for generations. Over that time, it has come to represent the honour of the line. And now, with the marriage of our son Ranma to Tendou Akane, the time has come to pass that symbol on to the next generation, for they are the future of both our families."

     Oblivious to the nervous muttering in the background, Nodoka gravely passed the sword to Akane. "Saotome Akane," she said, her tone serious, "I entrust the fate of the Saotome clan to you. May you find the wisdom to lead it well, and the patience and the peace to deal with its more... difficult members," she concluded with a dark look towards Genma.

     Akane accepted the gift, her eyes wide, her face a mask of shocked disbelief. After taking a moment to recover, she bowed deeply to her mother-in-law. With equal formality, Akane replied, "Thank you, Mother-in-law. I will make every effort not to betray your faith."

     Nodoka smiled. "I know you will, Akane. My son is in good hands."

     Akane blushed and looked back down at the blade in her hands. "I guess I'd better start learning how to use this properly, then."

     Nodoka laughed. "In time, Akane-chan... in time."

     Ranma was saved the trouble of having to figure out how he was supposed to react to all of this by Nabiki's timely intervention. The middle Tendou had a smile on her face as she drew each of them to their feet. "C'mon, you two. Party's over."

     With a mental shrug, Ranma surrendered and followed his wife and her sister from the dojo. He felt a little light headed in the cool night air, and was glad when Nabiki ushered them into the back of a waiting limousine, where he could sit down once more. Ranma felt himself beginning to doze as the events of the day, and the drink caught up with him. Akane had settled sleepily against him, so he put his arm around her. She sighed and snuggled closer. Ranma smiled to himself as the car drove on through the night.

     Akane drifted back into consciousness slowly. She felt warm and snug -- the pleasant lassitude that follows a particularly deep sleep. She must really have been tired. Gradually, more details filtered their way into her waking mind. The warmth of the bed, the weight of the comforter, the arm draped over her waist, the morning light that reddened the insides of still closed eyelids, the... waitaminnit. The arm draped over her waist? Akane froze -- panic seized her as she became acutely aware of the fact that she was not alone in bed. There was another person snuggled up against her -- a decidedly masculine someone, from the feel of... things.

     With a scream, Akane lashed out, sending her bed mate flying halfway across the room to crash into the table. Akane drew the comforter around her as she turned to face the molester.

     Ranma sat up groggily amidst the remains of the table and the pitcher of water that had been sitting on the tray. Shaking her head to clear it, Ranma looked up toward the bed. Her usual cry of "What didja do that for?" died in her throat as she caught sight of Akane, wrapped only in the bedclothes.

     "Yaaaaaaaah!" Ranma screamed and scuttled back to flatten herself against the wall. She stared at Akane, a look of pure terror on her face. As it dawned on her that she was also naked, Ranma could feel her face reddening.

     Slowly, memories of the previous night began to assert themselves. There had been a party, with rather a lot of sake, and frequent toasts. There had been food, and lots of presents -- and when it had started to wind down, Nabiki had escorted the pair of them here. But where was here? Images, really no more than impressions, flashed across her mind... a long ride full of twists and turns, arriving at last to the roar of the surf and the sharp tang of salt in the cool night breeze. The stars had been like diamonds against the ebony backdrop of the moonless sky.

     Ranma seemed to remember something about having carried Akane through the doorway, but that didn't make any sense. There had been a bottle on the table, with two glasses. They had filled the glasses several times, talking nervously. Finally, Ranma had worked up his nerve and leaned forward, and he had kissed Akane. He had kissed her and she hadn't pulled away; she hadn't clobbered him. Instead, she had kissed him back.

     That had gone on for a while, and then they had... they had... Ranma's eyes grew as wide as saucers, and her blush deepened. They had... "Oh, my."

     Akane's memory had returned at about the same time, and she was turning very interesting shades of purple. With an inarticulate cry of rage, Akane leapt towards Ranma, grabbing one of the chairs that had been knocked over by Ranma's abrupt departure from the bed. Akane raised the chair over her head, ready to bring it down on Ranma, who threw up her arms to block, closed her eyes, and waited for the impact.

     The blow never landed. After several seconds, Ranma peeked up at Akane to see her standing, chair upraised, with a shocked expression on her face. After deciding that Akane was not going to hit her just yet, Ranma looked on the floor where Akane was staring. There, glinting in the morning light, was a plain, gold ring. Ranma looked down at her hand and it hit her -- her finger was now at least three sizes too small for the ring to fit. It must have slipped off during her retreat.

     Ranma dove for the ring and retreated again, clutching the simple gold band tightly. She looked up at Akane, readying herself to ward off the dark-haired girl's anger as best she could.

     But Akane had dropped the chair and was staring stupidly at the gold ring that adorned her own finger. "I... We..." she managed helplessly.

     Ranma nodded, eyes wide.

     Akane sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself. "Oh, Ranma, I'm sorry," she said at last. After an eternity had passed, she continued in a very soft voice, "It's all different now, isn't it? I mean we're married now -- aren't we?"

     Ranma nodded again.

     Akane looked up at the red-head, tears in her eyes. "I thought I had dreamed all of that."

     Ranma saw Akane's tears and felt her heart sink. It had been a mistake. Akane had not wanted to get married after all. Ranma hung her head. "I... I'm the one who's sorry, Akane." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Why didn't you say something?"

     "Say?" Akane looked confused. "What should I have said?"

     "You could have said that you didn't want to get married -- I'm sure that your father would never hhave really forced you into it..." Ranma took a deep breath. "If you had, you wouldn't be... wouldn't be stuck with me now."

     Akane rocked back as if Ranma had slapped her. "Ranma, is that really what you think? That I don't want you?"

     Ranma just looked miserable. "It's my fault. You've said it often enough to me. I just didn't listen. I didn't think that you really meant it. I thought you were just saying those things because you were angry with me." She looked down at herself in disgust and her tone turned bitter. "Why should you want me? I'm no more than half a man."

     "Baka." There was a warmth to Akane's voice. "If I had wanted to stop the wedding, believe me, I would have. I... I've waited a long time for this," she finished softly.

     That caught Ranma by surprise. "You have? But... I thought... I mean with this curse..."

     "Oh, Ranma, what's so terrible about turning into a girl? Do you think that it changes who you are inside?"

     "But you said... I mean... pervert, and..." Ranma trailed off.

     A troubled look crossed Akane's face for a moment as her own words came back to her, from all of those fights since she and Ranma had met. "I know, and I'm sorry, Ranma. I didn't like being forced into marriage any more than you did, and I'm afraid that I took it out on you a lot of the time. I hope that you'll understand, and forgive me."

     "Akane... I..."

     "But what about you? You could have married your 'cute' fiancee, you know."

     It was Ranma's turn to look guilty. "But I did." she said softly. "You're the only one that I ever wanted to marry. I just wish... that I could have been..."

     "Cured? I know. But being a girl's not so bad. Trust me, I've been one all my life. And hot water isn't all that hard to come by, after all. Besides," Akane's tone lightened to a teasing note. "It could have been a lot worse. Dad could have engaged me to Kunou."

     Akane leaned forward to hug the speechless red-head, and their lips met in a kiss that seemed to go on forever. After a moment, Ranma realised that they were both still naked, that Akane was awfully close, and she smelled good. She could feel her own body responding to Akane's proximity, and she started turning red all over again.

     Akane noticed too, but she just smiled. "C'mon. Let's get you into a hot bath."

     The newlyweds spent the rest of the week at the ryoukan, all of the irritations and distractions of the past two years in the dojo all but forgotten. Most of the days they spent walking along the paths in the forest that covered the little peninsula or playing on the beach, running, swimming, laughing, each reveling in the other's company. Ranma didn't even mind being a girl at the time -- all that mattered was being with Akane..

     A lot of time was spent just talking. For the first time since they had met, Ranma managed to keep from putting his foot in his mouth, and Akane refrained from punishing Ranma for his indiscretions. Their conversations would range over topics from the serious to the silly, though there were still subjects that neither would approach directly. They would dance around them, hints would be dropped, and even picked up on from time to time. But both were confident that those barriers would come down, eventually. If they could just keep the channels open, and the dialogue flowing...

     In the evenings, there were long, luxurious soaks in the hot springs. Ranma silently sent his thanks to whatever forces, human or Kami, were responsible for sending them to a hot springs resort. That had been a stroke of genius.

     They would sit on the veranda late into the night, watching the skies, and the play of the starlight on the water... listening to the pounding of the waves on the beach, breathing in the scent of the ocean, and delighting in the contrast between the coolness of the night breezes and the warmth of their bodies. Then the nights would grow warmer still.

     When the week came to an end, both Ranma and Akane were sorry to see it be over. After that first confused awakening, they had not fought once. There had been one near argument over Ranma's table manners or, more precisely, his lack of table manners, but even that had been insufficient to spoil the moment.

     Without all of the demands and distractions that plagued them in the dojo, they had, for the first time, truly found some measure of peace in each other's company. They still had a ways to go, but they had made the first steps in the right direction. And now, the time had come for them to rejoin the chaos and the madness from which they had finally, however briefly, escaped.

     As they were waiting for the car that had been sent to pick them up, the manager of the inn came hurrying out to speak to them. He handed Ranma an envelope and bowed deeply. Looking inside the envelope, Ranma was shocked to find a very thick stack of yen -- it was a lot of money. Ranma looked back at the manager, confusion evident in his expression. "What... is this for?" he managed to ask.

     The manager smiled. "Honoured customer, that is the refund of your unused damages deposit."

     Ranma could only gape at him. "Damage deposit?"

     "Yes. The young lady who made your reservations referred to it as 'insurance' -- she said we were to refund any unused portion to you."

     Ranma looked in the envelope again. "But this much?"

     The manager shrugged. "I do not understand it myself -- but she was insistent." He bowed again. "I hope that you enjoyed your stay, and that you will visit us again in future."

     Ranma returned the bow and watched in astonishment as the man turned and returned to the inn. Looking to Akane, he noted that she was similarly confused. He passed the envelope to her, and watched, amused, as she realized how much was in it.

     Enlightenment came like a bolt of lightning to the pair of them. In near perfect unison, they cried out, "Nabiki!" They were still laughing to themselves when the car came to take them home.

     Upon their return to the dojo, Ranma moved into Akane's old room with her. It was a little tight with the larger bed, but it served well enough. Eventually, as things were re-arranged, they would move into larger quarters but, for the time being, neither of them seemed to mind the extra coziness.

     Communication between them was still awkward. Neither Ranma nor Akane was really comfortable with letting their defences down, but they were getting closer. Conversations were peppered with awkward silences and stuttering, but the nervousness was slowly starting to pass. In time, Akane was sure that they would both be comfortable enough to share their feelings more openly.

     He still hadn't said the words, but Akane was fairly certain that he thought them. There was a light in his eyes when he looked at her that made her feel giddy and light headed -- a curious warmth that started in the pit of her stomach and spread throughout her body. And despite his past vehement denials, the passion with which he held her implied that he did not find her unattractive.

     Marriage, she decided, was a good thing after all. Oh, they still squabbled from time to time. "Uncute!" and "Pervert!" were still common refrains, but there was no heat in them, and they had discovered one of the real joys of marriage -- the art of 'making up after a fight.' It was not the sort of life she had expected -- Akane chalked that up to having read too many shojo manga -- but even as life dropped back into something of a routine, it promised never to be dull.

     On the outside too, life was as... interesting as ever. While Kunou had been forced to accept the fact that Akane was now beyond his reach, he still went into endless tirades about his beloved 'pigtailed girl.' His sister, on the other hand, had gone into mourning over the fate of her Ranma-sama and had taken to dressing in black. No one noticed.

     Shampoo had not taken the loss well. She had gone into a desperate rage when she and her grandmother had returned from Hokkaido and Nabiki's decoys, and it had taken all of Ranma's speed and skill to prevent her from destroying the Tendou home and trying to kill the middle Tendou daughter. Afterwards, Ranma had explained to a tearful Shampoo that while he would always think of her as a friend, there was just no way that he could love her the way she wanted him to.

     Shampoo had run off crying, leaving a distraught Ranma behind. He hoped that he had gotten through to her. Her great grandmother, of course, was another story altogether. Cologne had never really cared how Ranma or Shampoo had felt -- such matters were of secondary importance when measured against what she saw as the good of the tribe. That Shampoo had loved Ranma was terribly convenient, but nothing more.

     Cologne was the one that really worried Ranma. While Shampoo was an excellent fighter, she was not the most subtle of creatures. She preferred the direct approach whenever possible. But she was very stubborn, and completely loyal to Cologne. While Ranma didn't think that she would do anything now, there was really no telling what the Amazon Matriarch might try.

     Ucchan, of course, had accepted his decision. He knew that she had not been happy about it, but there had been little that he could do about that. He was just grateful that she had understood -- Ranma needed a friend that he knnew he could trust. Ucchan had become that friend, now more than ever.

     The rest of their classmates at Furinkan High seemed to accept it all well enough, though opinions were mixed. Some claimed that it had been inevitable from the beginning and that they had known it all along. Others were sure that it was doomed from the start and were waiting for the explosion that they were sure was coming. A lively betting pool had sprung up and, once again, Ranma and Akane's relationship was the indirect cause of rather a lot of money changing hands.

     There were still a few diehard nutcases that caused minor problems from time to time, but nothing serious came of it. Most students just planned to enjoy the calm for as long as it might last, and things at school started to settle back into their normal routines -- or at least what passed for normal.

     Ranma and Akane set to the business of finishing up their senior year and preparing for exams and graduation. College was still a nebulous concept, but Akane in particular wanted to be certain that she kept her options open. She decided to enroll in a cram school in an effort to reclaim some of the ground that the last year and a half of chaos had stolen from her.

     Exam stress was making Akane a bit more snappish -- her temper a bit more easily frayed, but that was only to be expected. When she realized what she was doing, she would usually apologize, and they would share at least part of an evening together while Akane wound down and Ranma gave her his support and encouragement. Ranma was confident that she would calm down once exams were over, and she had passed them all.

     Ranma was not quite as worried about exams and was left pretty much to his own devices. With Akane so wrapped up in her studies, Ranma had a lot more free time on his hands, so he started looking for things to do.

     For a while, he spent a good deal of time with Ucchan -- talking and eating fresh okonomiyaki. He had even offered to come in and help her in the store a couple of afternoons a week. Ukyou had thanked him, but had said that with Konatsu around, she had things pretty well under control.

     Ranma tried too, not to take up too much of her time -- running a business and going to school left Ucchan little time for frivolity, so Ranma made an effort to be considerate. He admired her ambition and ability and was unwilling to impose too much, if he could help it.

     Ranma didn't really have any other friends to spend time with and going to the Nekohanten was no longer an option. Ranma decided that he ought to come up with something productive to do. He went to have a talk with his father-in-law.

     Two weeks later, Ranma started to teach a children's class in the dojo. Ranma was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed teaching and that he was pretty good at it. There were occasional snags -- at times his class would disrupt Akane's studies and she would take him to task for it. Ranma tried to be understanding, but he did wish that she would wait until the class was over before she started yelling at him. As things settled into a routine, Ranma was feeling pretty good about life for a change.

     It was awfully quiet around the dojo. The hairs on the back of Ranma's neck were beginning to rise. He was starting to get that feeling again -- the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Ranma set out to investigate.

     Soun and Genma were gone -- off for the evening, the note had said. Nodoka had been at the Saotome home for the past week and was not due back for a day or so. Nabiki was gone -- Ranma had no idea where. Kasumi had left a note in the hall saying that she was going to be visiting a friend and would be back in the morning.

     Ranma started to sweat. Every time the house emptied, it meant only one thing. Akane was Fixing Dinner. Ranma didn't know whether it was cause or effect and didn't much care. Whether the others had fled because Akane was cooking, or Akane was cooking because the others were gone, the results were just as toxic. Ranma's only hope was the latter -- if Ranma could beat Akane to the kitchen, then there was still hope for an edible meal.

     That hope died a horrible death as Ranma neared the kitchen. There were... sounds... coming out of there. There were clangs and clatters as various pots were shifted about and the occasional burbling sound as something lifted a lid and tried to escape. That would be followed by pounding noises as Akane drove whatever it was back into its pot. A series of staccato pops like tiny explosions and an odour convinced Ranma that it might be a good night to eat out. If he could only get away in time.

     Ranma had almost made it to the back garden wall when a sharp voice brought him up short. "And just where do you think you are going?" the voice inquired.

     Ranma turned and flattened himself against the garden wall. "Ah... Akane!" he managed. "Umm... I was going to..."

     "Well, forget it! Dinner is almost ready!" Akane stared hard at her husband, as if daring him to say anything.

     Ranma sighed and surrendered to the inevitable. He hoped that Tofu-sensei's stomach pump still worked. Like a man marching to the gallows, Ranma followed his wife back into the house.

     It wasn't that Ranma didn't appreciate Akane's attempts to cook -- he knew how rare her free time was and how hard she tried. That was, he reflected, a large part of the problem. Akane tried too hard. She expected to be able to produce gourmet meals from the start -- it never occurred to her that cooking was like the Art -- that skill came only with patience and with practice.

     Akane in the kitchen was Akane in a hurry. She had no time to waste on unimportant things, like labels or measurements. If ingredients had the same general colour and/or consistency, they were considered interchangeable. But as flexible as the "Anything Goes" style was, it had no place in the kitchen.

     Ranma sat down at the table, apprehension gnawing at the lining of his stomach. Idly he wondered if Akane would give him a blindfold and a cigarette; wisely, he decided not to ask. He desperately wished that Akane had made curry -- that at least would have been edible.

     With a flourish, Akane set a tray in front of him. Oh, no, thought Ranma, she's been experimenting again... Steeling himself, he looked down at the tray. There was a bowl that held rice -- or what looked like rice, covered with some kind of dark sludge. Another bowl held what Ranma assumed to be soup, if one could ignore the occasional ripple that flashed over its oily surface. A plate contained some sort of cracker topped with what might have been wasabe, if it weren't for the blue spots. The (custard?) whatever it was in the dessert bowl appeared to be moving...

     Ranma stared at the meal for a long time -- if he could just stall long enough, it might crawl away and he wouldn't have to eat it. Akane, however, was not going to give him the time. "Well?" she asked, her foot tapping.

     Ranma gulped and reached slowly for his chopsticks. Tentatively, he prodded the rice bowl. When nothing prodded back, he took a deep breath, snared a bite of the rice and sauce, and put it in his mouth. Hesitantly, he began to chew. Chopsticks clattered back onto the table as Ranma's hands covered his mouth. It was all he could do to keep from spitting the morsel across the table. He managed to force the bite down despite the violent protestations of his stomach. Gagging, he grabbed for the teacup, and chugged.

     It wasn't tea. Indeed, it was almost, but not quite entirely unlike tea. Again, Ranma fought for control as his gorge rose -- he had to get to the bathroom. He lurchhed to his feet and knew, with stomach sinking certainty, that he was not going to make it. Instead, he stumbled out onto the veranda and leaned out over the edge of the porch. He just made it before his abused stomach emptied itself.

     Ranma knelt gasping after the purge, his breathing ragged. He was dimly aware of the fact that Akane had followed him out onto the porch. After several tries, Ranma finally found his voice again -- or at least a weak copy of it. "What," he gasped, "what was that?"

     Akane's voice was tight. "It was rice, baka -- with brown sauce!"

     "Brown sauce?"

     "It's one of Kasumi's recipes!" Akane shot back defensively. "I did exactly what it said!"

     Ranma looked up at his wife, the doubts he had showing plainly in his expression. "Exactly?" he asked.

     "Exactly!" She paused. "Well, except for the fact that we were out of brown sugar, so I used coffee grounds instead, and I couldn't find the soy sauce, so I used mirin, but that didn't smell right so I added the vanilla..."

     Ranma's eyes had gone wide, and he leaned out over the edge again as his stomach tried to void an already empty tank. After a few dry heaves, Ranma spit out what he could of the bile in the back of his throat and turned once more to his wife. She was not smiling.

     Akane bristled. "It's not that bad, and you know it!"

     "Of course! I love food that comes up faster than it went down! Why don't you give it a try?"

     "You don't have to be so melodramatic about it, you know. If you didn't like it, you could just say so."

     "You think that I enjoyed that? Believe me, if I had been given any choice in the matter, I'd never have tried it in the first place!"

     "Is that so? I go to all this trouble, just to cook you a special dinner, and this is the response that I get?" This time, there was no trace of humour in her voice. "Stupid, insensitive macho jerk!"

     Ranma's eyes widened, and even as his voice bypassed his brain to issue the automatic retort, his mind was screaming -- No! Not this! Not again! Please, can't this stop? But it was too late -- the damage was done as he heard himselff drop back into well-known territory with, "Uncute tomboy! You know you can't cook!"

     Outside the dojo, Nabiki was just returning from an expensive dinner provided by Kunou. He was still a market for her backlog of photos of his pigtailed goddess. She almost felt sorry for the goon.

     As Nabiki was walking through the gate, she became aware of loud voices coming from the veranda outside the dining room. All good things come to an end, she thought with a sigh. The relative peace that had ruled the Tendou household since the marriage of its two most vocal and combative members was torn away with a shout -- a thud -- and a splash. They always seemed to end with a splash.

     It was such a pity too. If they had only made it another two weeks, she would have stood to collect a fortune. Two months -- was that so much to have asked? Still, deep down, she was surprised that the calm had lasted as long as it had. At least she wasn't going to lose money.

     "Dammit, Ranma, hold still!" Akane punctuated her 'request' with a series of blows that passed through the spaces Ranma had occupied scant fractions of a second before.

     Ranma dodged another flurry with a languid ease that only served to irritate Akane further. Still, there was something about the intensity of her attacks that Ranma found disturbing. "Akane, what are you so mad about?"

     Akane tried for a sweep kick which Ranma leapt over. "After last night, you can ask me that?" She feinted to one side and lashed out with another kick, only to hear Ranma's reply from behind her.

     "What about last night?"

     Akane whirled, but again struck only empty air. "I worked for hours on that dinner! Hours! And what do you do? You act like I was trying to poison you!" Jab -- feint -- jab jab.

     Ranma's stomach cramped briefly at the reminder of the last night's 'dinner.' He dodged to one side, neatly avoiding another fierce rain of blows from Akane. "I never said that!" he exclaimed. "All I did was ask you what it was!"

     Akane was not mollified. "Sure! After you went through that act of yours on the veranda. Don't you think that was a little much?" She swung at him with a roundhouse and followed up with a kick.

     "What was I supposed to do?" Ranma asked as her foot passed through an empty space. "There was no way I was gonna make it to the bathroom!"

     Akane's temper flared again. "You... you... arrogant pervert!" she spat. Her blows came fast and hard, but with her anger controlling her, Ranma could read her like a manga. He decided that it was time to end this.

     Ducking under another roundhouse, Ranma casually swept Akane's feet from under her, dropping her unceremoniously onto the mat. "Akane," he said, "You have got to calm down! You know that you telegraph your moves when you get like this!" Ranma reached down to help his wife to her feet, but she slapped his hand away. With a shrug, Ranma turned to leave the dojo. "We can start again later, okay?"

     Akane watched him go through a red haze. How dare he just walk out on her like that! Didn't he take her seriously? Seething, Akane got to her feet, took a Bo staff from the rack on the wall, and stalked off after her husband. She would teach him...

     "Ranma! I haven't seen you in here for a while!"

     Ranma grinned. "Well, things have been pretty quiet lately... no battles, no kidnappings or anything like that for a change."

     Tofu smiled back at his patient and began his examination. "Say, you have a couple of pretty impressive dislocations here. You must have really made Akane angry this time."

     "Yeah, I guess she was pretty mad..."

     Tofu stopped his examination and moved in front of Ranma. Pulling up a stool, he sat facing the young martial artist, his face suddenly serious. "Ranma, I was making a joke. Tell me, did Akane really do this to you?"

     "Well, you know how it is, Doc! She gets ticked, and... well, I guess I sorta asked for it..." Ranma looked sheepish. "She made this special dinner and all, and, well, you know how she is in the kitchen..."

     Tofu nodded.

     "And, like an idiot, I couldn't keep dinner down, or my mouth shut. She was still a little sore about it this morning."

     "I see," said Tofu.

     The intensity of Tofu's interest was starting to make Ranma a bit nervous. "Really, Doc, it's nothing..."

     Tofu watched Ranma fidget for a moment, but said nothing more about it. He finished his exam and performed a few adjustments, and Ranma was good as new. Ranma thanked him and left.

     Watching Ranma leave, Tofu shook his head. Ranma was probably right -- there was nothing to it. Akane had certainly given him worse, but the need for that had passed, hadn't it? Something about this just felt wrong somehow. With a shrug, Tofu put it out of his mind and went to see about his next patient.

     Ranma was headed toward the dojo for a workout when he was brought up short by a shout and several dull thudding sounds. Peeking into the dojo, Ranma was shocked by what he saw. Straw and bits of shredded batting littered the floor. Dust and wisps of cotton hung in the air like smoke from a smouldering fire. At the centre of the fire was Akane.

     Furtively, he watched Akane tearing the stuffing out of the training dummy with brutal efficiency. Not the precise, controlled motions of a martial artist, but angry, savage blows that she punctuated with inarticulate snarls.

     Akane was mad about something, that much was certain. But what could it be? Shampoo hadn't put in an appearance in weeks, Kodachi had been keeping to herself as well, and she had no reason to be mad about Ucchan anymore. Ranma couldn't even remember having stuck his foot in his mouth within the past few days. What had he done this time?

     Ranma watched as another flurry of blows reduced the dummy's mass by half and shuddered. He could not imagine what could have happened that would leave her so very angry, but when she was in a deep rage like this, any attempts to calm her were almost certain to meet with failure.

     As it was with Ranma when he was under the spell of the nekoken, very few things could bring Akane out of one of her rages before she was ready. Unlike Ranma and the nekoken, her spouse was NOT among those things. Where Akane was the cure for his own form of madness, he was more like fuel for the fire of hers.

     Having decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and certainly the healthier part, Ranma backed slowly out of the dojo. There would be time for his own workout later. Right now, he just wanted to avoid becoming the focus for his wife's 'attentions.'

     Ranma was thinking about taking a good long run, when Kasumi came up behind him. "Ranma-kun! I thought that you were going to be in the dojo!"

     Ranma started, but returned Kasumi's smile. "No, Kasumi. I was, but Akane is in there now. I'll use it later."

     "Why don't you work out together? Wouldn't that be more fun?"

     Ranma's smile faded. "No... No, I don't think so." Ranma pictured Akane's rage filled expression in his mind and shuddered. He remembered the last time that he'd sparred with Akane when she was in a bad mood. "Not right now, anyway."

     The fact that Ranma and Akane were fighting more often did not escape the attention of other members of the household. Indeed, it was so obvious that it was even becoming a topic of conversation over the shogi board.

     Even Kasumi's carefully constructed shell of oblivion was starting to show cracks from the strain. Still, she handled it the way she always had -- by diffusing the conflicts that she could with a gentle word and the sheer force of her personality.

     But Kasumi's magic was beginning to falter under the new wave of discord that pervaded the household. While Akane had often been angry before, she was often furious now. Everyone had hoped that once they were married, Ranma would be able to stop doing things that made Akane mad; but it didn't seem to be working out that way. In her exasperation, Kasumi had gone so far as to ask Ranma what he was doing to make Akane so angry. He'd had no answer.

     Nabiki, however, was not so sure that it was that simple. Yes, Akane had spent a lot of the past two years angry -- that was nothing new. Akane had always been an angry child. But now that anger was taking on a new depth -- an intensity that Nabiki found disturbing.

     Nabiki was no stranger to emotional control. It was, after all, one of the things that she had used so effectively all her life. She knew how to keep hers and to make her opponent yield theirs. That was what made recent trends in Akane's behaviour so alarming to her. Akane was losing all of her self-control.

     These were not the simple tantrums of a child, either. Akane's anger was starting to really run away with her. Considering Akane's training, that could be dangerous. At the very least, it was going to be expensive.

     The simple excuse, that it was all Ranma's fault, was also starting to wear a little thin. Nabiki had been watching Ranma -- she always had -- and Ranma had been weell behaved. He certainly hadn't been doing things lately that warranted reactions as violent as Akane's. At least, not often.

     When they had first returned from their honeymoon, they had still been fighting -- but they had made up afterwards with equal fervor. Now, they were fighting more, and making up less. It was an ugly trend.

     Ranma's mother was particularly dismayed by the lack of harmony in her son's marriage. She had so wanted a happier marriage for her son than the one she'd had, and she was determined to see that he got it. Nodoka vowed to put an end to the fighting -- but first, there would have to be peace between the two of them. She had to convince Ranma that there was no profit in antagonizing his wife -- she had to appeal to his sense of honour.

     "My son, I would speak with you..."

     Ranma froze. He did not remember much about his life before he left home, but one thing stood out in his memory. Whenever his mother adopted that overly formal tone, unpleasantness followed. It was a sure indicator that she was NOT happy.

     Slowly, Ranma turned to face his parent. "Yes, Mother?" His spirits took a dive when he saw her stern expression. This was not going to be a fun conversation.

     "Son, I am concerned. It has come to my attention that there has been conflict between you and Akane... that there are often harsh words exchanged between the two of you. I gather that some of your actions have even provoked her to the point of violence."

     Ranma thought about just how easy it was to 'provoke Akane to the point of violence' but wisely did not mention it. Matching her formal tone, he said, "I assure you, mother, that provoking Akane has not been what I have been trying to do."

     "That may be, but good intentions are, by themselves, insufficient. To maintain your honour, you must maintain vigilance. You must show the proper respect for your wife, Ranma... She is there to love you and support you throughout your life. But you must also love and support her."

     "Love..." Ranma's stock retort never made it. He could not lie to his mother -- not anymore. "I... I do love Akane, Mom. I love her more than anything." His voice was a bare whisper.

     "I know you do, son. But you must treat her like you love her. Do you believe that insulting her, that calling her 'uncute' will really make her happy?"

     "No, I guess not."

     "Ranma... You have grown to be a man among men, despite your 'curse,' and despite your father's influence. But there are still things that you have to learn."

     Ranma could not argue that point. "So what can I do? How do I keep from making her mad all the time?"

     "You must not fight with her. Do you enjoy it when she strikes you? Do you enjoy seeing her angry?"

     "Of course not!"

     "Then why do you antagonize her? Why do you argue with her?"

     "But it's not my fault! She won't wait to hear my side of anything; she won't even give me a chance to explain! She just gets mad, and I get a slam and a dunk." Ranma said morosely.

     "If you stop doing the things that antagonize her, Ranma, she will stop getting angry -- and she will be more prone to listen to what you have to say."

     Ranma was skeptical. "Do you really think so?"

     "I do." Nodoka smiled, but it faded into a darker look as her gaze turned inwards. "It would pain me to see you make the same errors that your father has. His behaviour over the past years has not been... entirely honourable."

     Ranma snorted. That was an understatement if ever he'd heard one. "Not bloody likely. Nobody else could make some of the blunders Pop has!"

     "Ranma... He is your father..." Nodoka admonished him.

     "Nobody asked me about that," Ranma said darkly.

     "Ranma... it is true that you have cause to be angry with your father, but that is not the point of this discussion. There are much more important matters that must be addressed."

     "So what do you think I should do?"

     "Promise me, my son. I want your solemn word as a warrior that you will stop this fighting. It is not... seemly for a husband and wife to carry on so."

     Ranma started to protest, but his mother's stern expression silenced him. Did she really think that all of this was his fault? That he had been deliberately trying to anger Akane? Sure, they had argued... they often did, but Ranma had looked on it as normal.

     He and Akane had argued since the day they had met. It didn't mean that he loved her any less. Though Ranma had to admit, there were times, lots of times, really, that he wished the arguing would stop and that life could be like it had been on their honeymoon again. Ranma considered that. Was he really the one to blame? Was it his
fault that Akane was always so unhappy now?

     Tofu-sensei's first assumption when he had last been in the clinic had been that he had done something to make Akane angry. At the time, it had not seemed significant. The neighbors, tired of all the noise, had begged him to quit tormenting his wife. Kasumi had asked him the same question, and now... and now his own mother.

     "Promise me, Ranma."

     Ranma's shoulders sagged. It was his fault. Everybody knew it -- had known it. Everybody but him. He had been thoughtless, rude and cruel -- to the person that he loved the most. He had been turning into his father. Ranma shuddered at the thought and hung his head in shame.

     "I promise." he said softly. "I swear to you, on my honour as a warrior, that I will not fight with Akane again."

     Nodoka smiled and hugged her son. "Then the matter is ended."

     After the talk he'd had with his mother, Ranma's relationship with Akane started to change. Ranma stopped insulting his wife. When he opened his mouth and felt himself starting to utter his familiar litany of 'uncute' or 'tomboy', he would stop and leave the room. He did everything he could think of to avoid saying things that he knew would upset her.

     Ranma still put his foot in his mouth from time to time, and Akane would pound him for it. Akane's cooking skills, or lack thereof, were a particular sore point, but Ranma thought he could deal with that. What was hardest to take was the fact that Akane was still blaming him for things that he could not help or things that were simply not his fault.

     It was hard, so hard, but Ranma kept his word. There were times when he wanted to tear his hair and scream at the injustice of it all, but at times like those, his mother's words would replay in his memory -- "It would pain me to see you to make the same errors that your father has..." -- and Ranma would choke back his angry replies, and let Akane rant on, unchallenged. In the end, it didn't really matter, he thought to himself. If he deserved it or not, if she was mad enough, he was in for a pounding.

     His mother had been, in one important respect, wrong. Akane had not calmed down once Ranma had changed his behaviour. Indeed, if anything, she was getting mad at him more easily, and more quickly.

     Ranma tried a new strategy. When Akane would get mad, he would apologize. It didn't matter what she thought he'd done, or if he had, in fact, done it. Sometimes he didn't even have any idea just what he was apologizing for. It was just easier to say he was sorry and be done with it.

     Appeasement had worked admirably, for a time. Akane had been so shocked the first time he'd just apologized to her that she quite forgot what she had been yelling at him about. A new hope surged through Ranma at that point. It had thrilled him to see Akane smile, and her smile had grown when he'd said so. She had been in such a good mood that night that neither of them had gotten any sleep.

     It didn't last. Gradually, even this tactic started to lose effectiveness.

     It became a vicious cycle. A certain level of irritation was sure to set Akane off. So, Ranma would try to make sure that he did or said as little as possible that would exceed that threshold. He was largely successful. But then the rules would change, and it would take less and less to trigger Akane's wrath.

     It sometimes seemed to Ranma as if the anger never really left her, as if it was always there, straining to get out. There was a darkness to her anger that disturbed him. He felt that there were forces driving her rage that he could not see and could do nothing about.

     That was, perhaps, the most frustrating aspect of the whole situation. He knew that his wife was hurting, and he had no idea what was causing it. When he asked her what was troubling her, she would get angry and yell at him for some slight, real or imagined. Ranma realized that she didn't always mean it -- at least he hoped that she didn't. It tore at his heart to think that he might really be the one that was making her so unhappy.

     Upon getting back from her usual morning jog, Akane went to the workroom under the dojo to do something constructive for a change. Akane had taken to manufacturing her own practice dummies. The ones she made tended to last a bit longer, and there were one or two 'custom' touches she added that made them particularly effective. Not the least of these was the pigtail braid that adorned the back of each dummy's head.

     Akane looked thoughtfully at her latest creation. High art it was not. Crude as it was, though, it did the job. Akane set the dummy aside and reached for a new armature to start the next one. As her hands busied themselves winding the straw and cotton batting into what would be the dummy's head, she allowed her thoughts to drift over more private paths.

     Ranma had started being nicer to her -- a lot nicer. She had enjoyed it now for weeks but it was, in an odd way, also starting to make her uncomfortable. She had become so accustomed to his constant teasing and harassment that this sudden change seemed somehow jarring. She was more used to Ranma's taunts and jeers -- they had the comfort of familiarity, evven if they did make her so mad.

     Whenever the darkness in her soul had threatened to overwhelm her, Ranma's insults had given her a focus for those dark energies -- allowing her to blow off steam and workk off her frustrations. And since they had married, she had discovered that making up after a fight could be the most fun of all.

     Now, though, that release was gone -- It was not that Ranma had been perfectly behaved -- that would have stretched credibility to the breaking point. But he wasn't fighting her anymore! He had been a lot more polite, and he had managed to avoid saying some of the stupid things that really set her off. In fact, she could not even remember the last time that he had called her uncute.

     Akane finished the head, and started winding longer, wider strips of batting around the straw core of the dummy's torso. Once the body was wound, bailing wire would hold it all together. Then she would start on the arms. The trick to making them last was in winding the strips tightly enough. That could often be good strength training all by itself.

     Why was Ranma acting this way? It was so unlike the Ranma that had made the last two years so... so... infuriating. In the past, when he had been nice to her, it had always ended in another fight as Ranma dropped once more into his role as an insensitive macho jerk. It had never taken long -- if he was nice to her in the morning, by that evening he had stuck his foot in his mouth and they were back to snarling and snapping at each other. She had been waiting for the other shoe to drop now for weeks, and the suspense was really starting to get on her nerves.

     It was ironic. Ranma was making every effort to be what she had wanted: more polite and considerate. He was trying everything he could think of to get closer to her, but the more he tried, the further separated from him Akane felt. In the past, even as he had been insulting her, Akane could see that Ranma cared. She knew that a lot of his bluster was just there to cover his feelings -- feelings that he was as yet, unable to express openly. When they had squabbled, he would let his guard down enough so that she could see into his heart.

     With the new Ranma, Akane was no longer so sure of her position. Ranma's guard stayed up and she could no longer tell what he was feeling with any measure of confidence. Akane could no longer read him, could no longer trust her own interpretations of his words or his actions. That uncertainty fed the darkness that lingered deep in her -- the darkness that taunted her with what she had lost before and fed her fear that she was going to lose again. And again, there would be nothing that she could do to stop it.

     When Akane felt the darkness creeping in, she would snap at Ranma -- and Ranma would just take it. That made her feel bad, for trying to hurt him, which made the darkness press harder against her soul, which made her snap at Ranma, and so it continued.

     She didn't want to hurt him, but she couldn't stop herself. It was easier to lash out again than it was to apologize -- easier to strike at him than to swallow her pride and admit that she was wrong. It was FAR easier to keep him at arm's length than to allow him to really get close, let alone close enough to hurt her. She would not allow herself to be that vulnerable again.

     But if she were honest with herself, she knew that it was far too late for that... and he had gotten under her skin so very easily! He was an integral component of her life -- she could no more imagine being without him than she could turn herself inside out. He had become a part of her now, and a very important part. In a very real sense, what she did to Ranma, she did to herself -- and so the darkness continued to feed.

     Akane wanted to scream. The evening had started so well -- had been so pleasant -- and yet, like so very many before, it had ended in disaster. What made it all the more frustrating was that there was no reason for it. It was so senseless.

     It had taken almost a week for Ranma to work up to it, but he had asked her to go with him to dinner and a movie. Akane had been delighted. When the day came, the weather was perfect -- it had rained earlier that evening, and the skies had cleared as darkness fell, leaving the air fresh, crisp and cool.

     The restaurant was not Tokyo's finest, but the atmosphere was romantic, and the food was excellent. Ranma had even forgone the new Jackie Chan picture and taken her to see the new Miyazaki romance instead. 'Whispers of the Heart' was not a film that she would have expected Ranma to be able to sit through, let alone one that he would suggest they see. Akane had enjoyed herself immensely.

     They had walked home, arm in arm, each enjoying the feel of being in the other's company. When they had reached the Tendou home -- out on the walk in front of the main gate, Ranma had taken her in his arms and stared into her eyes for the longest time. She had almost decided that he was never going to kiss her when he'd bent forward to her brush her lips with his.

     Her arms had gone around him and she'd held him tight, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. At that point, disaster had struck. A car passed, and hit the only puddle that was left from the afternoon rains. The puddle was small, the amount of water thrown smaller still, but it had been enough.

     Akane felt her husband shift in her arms, growing shorter and more curvy, waist narrowing and chest expanding, as the transformation was completed. Ranma held the embrace, not even seeming to notice that the change had taken place.

     Maybe it was the suddenness of the change that startled her. Maybe it was some irrational fear of being seen by people who didn't know that the redhead was really her husband. Akane didn't know, and now it didn't matter -- the damage was done.

     Akane had pushed Ranma away with a startled scream and an almost instinctive slap. "Ranma, you're a girl now! Somebody might see us! Pervert!"

     Ranma had stared back at her, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. Then she had looked down at herself for a long moment, and she had shuddered. Akane could almost feel the wave of self-loathing that passed through her husband at that moment.

     Akane had turned away to try and regain her composure somewhat. The look of utter despair and hopelessness that crossed Ranma's face had torn at her heart. She turned back to apologize, but Ranma was already gone.

     "Damn," she muttered to herself as the tears came.

     Ranma sat alone in the darkness and wept. At least that was one advantage that the curse provided. In this form, it was acceptable for her to cry. Of course, she thought bitterly, if it weren't for the damned curse, she wouldn't need to cry.

     Akane had said time and again that the curse didn't matter. But it did. Tonight had proven that. And Ranma couldn't even find it in her heart to blame her wife for it. Why should Akane have to settle for half a man?

     That rationalization did nothing to ease the pain that Ranma felt as Akane had pushed her away. After all, hadn't she also been the one to tell her that being a girl wasn't so bad? It was so confusing!

     Ranma shuddered again and drew her knees up to her chest as she stared into the depths of the river. One of these days, she was going to have to find a cure or die trying. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Akane was never going to be truly happy, that she was never going to fully accept Ranma, until that day arrived.

     Akane and Ranma had been sparring in the dojo. The session went as they all had, from the first day she had met him. She had struck and attacked, raining blow after blow upon her target, kick after kick, lunge after lunge. Not one of them had connected. No matter how quickly or carefully she had struck, by the time her blow had reached the target, the target was elsewhere. She had never even come close. Finally, thoroughly winded, she had called a halt to the exercise.

     After complimenting her on her improvement, Ranma had gone back to the house while Akane, after catching her breath, vented her frustrations on targets that could not escape her every attack. Akane did not feel like she had improved. Compared to Ranma, she still felt like a clumsy beginner.

     She didn't understand it. She never had any trouble hitting Ranma when they weren't in the dojo -- in fact, she cleaned his clock on a regular basis. It was almost as if he were two people. In the dojo, when they were sparring, he was a wraith -- no material attack came near him. He was calm, self assured and untouchable. Outside of their training, she clobbered him at will. Sometimes he would evade her first attacks, but in the end, her blows would hit their targets, and Ranma would go down.

     Akane sighed, looking at the remains of the training dummy she had been pummeling. She sat down with her back against the dojo wall as a snatch of a memory drifted across her mind... "Sometimes, when a guy fights a girl, he... uh... lets her win." Ranma's words. She remembered them well. She also remembered how angry those words had made her. She remembered how she had vowed to herself that she would make him eat those words. It was one vow she had yet to keep. She had tried -- oh, she had tried -- but every time she had beaten him, she felt that the only reason that she had been able to touch him was that he had allowed it.

     The odd part was that he had never once retaliated. No matter what she had done to him, she had never been able to get Ranma to hit her -- to strike back. Despite his curse, Ranma seemed to think that women were somehow less capable than men were. Why else would he treat them as he did? Why else would he hesitate to fight a girl? Even as a girl, there were lines that Ranma would not cross -- the times that Ranma had been forced to fight against another girl Akane had gotten the distinct impression that he was holding back.

     His condescension infuriated her. Women could be just as good as men, just as strong. But Ranma always treated them differently, as if they needed to be protected. As if they were fragile. As if they were somehow inferior.

     One of the most galling aspects was that Ranma had been particularly protective of her. That he kept singling her out for protection was enraging. There had been a time when she had thought it was cute, romantic even, but it had done nothing to help her get over her feelings of inferiority. As time passed, Akane started to get the feeling that Ranma was rubbing her nose in it. The rational part of her mind dismissed that as nonsense, but of late, the rational side had often not been the winning side.

     Before Ranma showed up, she had been the best martial artist in the area. There had been Kunou, but he hardly counted. He was a capable fighter as a kendoist, but if you took away his stick, he was harmless. When Ranma had arrived, he had taken that away. She was no longer better at anything, let alone the best. She no longer had anything that she could call her own.

     Ranma could beat her at everything. Ranma could cook. As a girl, Ranma was better looking. Ranma could fight better, Ranma could swim, Ranma was faster, the list went on and on. In her rage, she lashed out -- if she could drive him to fight her, to really fight her, then she could prove that she was every bit as good as he was.

     Akane sighed. The trouble was, she was nowhere near as good as him, and she knew it. And when her 'rivals' had started showing up, things had only gotten worse. At first, it had been a joke to her. She remembered how she had teased Ranma -- pointing out just how cute Shampoo was and taking some pleasure in his discomfort. For some reason, it wasn't that funny anymore.

     What had been funny once lost its charm in a hurry when it kept happening, again and again, and again. First it was Kodachi -- then Shampoo had decided that marrying Ranma would be better than killing him. Then there had been Kaori, and finally Ukyou had shown up... Even if she had been sure that she wanted to, how was she supposed to compete with the likes of them?

     All of them were beautiful; all were strong fighters -- stronger than she was. Akane was sure that any one of Ranma's other fiancees could have beat the snot out of her any time they felt like it. And with the exception of Ukyou, who had tried to be like a boy, none of the others had been considered any less feminine for their skills.

     Indeed, not only were they better than she was at the martial arts, but at the feminine arts as well. She had only been able to find one thing that she could do that the others could not do better. Maybe that was why she kept hurting Ranma -- it was the one thing that she could do that the others could not.

     She had trained so hard, devoted her life, her very being to the Art and yet, in her heart, she was sure that she would never be good enough. She was always going to lose the important fights. Everyone else would always be at least one step ahead of her. It made her want to scream.

     That was it. That must have been why Ranma had married her. It wasn't that he loved her. It had never been about love; it was all because he felt that she needed to be protected. Ukyou... Shampoo... maybe even Kodachi... who knew which one he really loved? Her heart twisted at the thought. Damn that idiot!

     Ranma's fault. It was all Ranma's fault. With an angry snarl, Akane got up and went to fetch another target.

     The sky was a leaden grey, the low hanging overcast swollen with the threat of the rains to come that afternoon. A stiff breeze blew bits of debris along the street -- scraps of litter and paper that bore silent witness to the harried carelessness of the masses. Except for the odd pigeon, the street down which Ranma was walking was deserted -- desolate; a perfect mirror for Ranma's current mood.

     Ranma was at a loss. It seemed that no matter what he did, or didn't do, Akane was going to get mad -- sooner or later. It was inevitable. Ranma had spent many long hours meditating on the problem. What was it that she wanted from him? He would give her anything in the world if it would make her happy, but everything he tried seemed somehow to fall short. It was never enough.

     She had said that she wanted honesty. He gave it to her. Since they had married, he had told her the truth. Always. That had caused its own problems, particularly when she had asked him to evaluate her cooking -- but he would not lie to her. He had given his word, and he always kept his word.

     But what good had it done? She still wouldn't believe him. She seldom even took the time to listen to him, let alone grant that he might actually be telling her the truth. It hurt Ranma deeply that his wife apparently thought so little of him. Honour was very important to Ranma -- he had put up with humiliation, degradation, and pain, all for the sake of his honour. To have Akane so casually dismiss that honour was like having a knife stuck into his back. Every time she doubted him, she gave that knife a little twist.

     What would it take to convince her? What did he have to do before she would give him the benefit of the doubt? There were so many things she had blamed him for that were not his fault. When Shampoo had come and glomped onto him, he had fought her off -- every time. But did Akane see that? No -- Akane had blamed him. When Kodachi had drugged him, it had been his fault. Where was the justice in that?

     Whenever there had been trouble, hadn't he always been there for her? He had fought for her time and time again. He would willingly have died to protect her -- what more could he do to prove his love? Ranma shook his head and sighed. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way.

     Despite his Don Juan reputation, Ranma's experience with girls was extremely limited. Growing up on the road with his father had not provided the best examples in how to deal with the fairer sex. Even Ranma knew that.

     Truth be told, girls made him nervous. Put him in front of a girl and all of his wits deserted him, as well as most of his language skills. If it was someone that he liked, it made matters worse. He could never seem to find the right words -- but the wrong ones came easily. By the time his brain caught up to his mouth it was too late, and the damage was done.

     Akane was the perfect example -- as much as he loved her, he had never been able to tell her -- not with words. The words just came out wrong. There had to be a way to get through! Maybe if he got her a present -- if he chose the right present, it could say the things that he had not been able to.

     He was going to need help for this one. He needed advice. Rather than pay Nabiki's rates, Ranma decided to go see Ucchan. She'd have an idea. Besides. He was hungry.

     Nabiki was sitting at the table with a number of books spread out in front of her, sipping a cup of cocoa, when a shout broke the stillness of the afternoon.

     "Akane, WAIT! It's not what you're thinking!"

     "Just how stupid do you think I am, Ranma? You're a pervert!"

     "But Akane... Yaaaa!" Footfalls sounded in the hall upstairs as Ranma gave up on talking and ran. Nabiki winced at the sound of metal striking flesh -- and again as she heard Ranma half run, half bounce down the stairs.

     As Nabiki watched, Ranma came haring through the door, past the table, and out the sliding doors into the garden, Akane in hot pursuit. Akane stopped by the table, and, hefting a barbell, hurled it towards the object of her wrath with as much force as she could muster.

     Nabiki turned to follow the projectile on its trajectory -- Ranma never saw it coming. The barbell struck the fleeing figure in the back of the head, knocking him forward in a low arc. Ranma ploughed face first into the garden pond, sending gouts of water skyward. Akane 'hmphed' in satisfaction, and, dusting off her hands, turned and stalked back up the stairs.

     Nabiki watched her go, shaking her head. There was no telling what had sparked that -- Akane had been so very touchy lately. Nabiki almost felt sorry for Ranma.

     Nabiki turned back toward the garden expecting to see a wet, angry, and female Ranma squelching back toward the house. The garden was empty and the surface of the pond was calm. She thought that was odd since she hadn't heard Ranma haul herself out of the water yet. Jumping up, she hurried out into the garden and peered into the water. Ranma lay on the bottom, her unconscious body held under the surface by the weight of the barbell.

     With a yell toward the house for help, Nabiki jumped into the pool, and, pushing the barbell aside, started to drag Ranma toward the edge of the water. Here was another reason to be glad of Ranma's 'condition,' she thought; as a girl, Ranma was much lighter.

     By the time anyone from the house arrived to help her, Nabiki had already managed to get Ranma out of the water and was trying desperately to force the water out of the redhead's lungs.

     "What happened?" asked Kasumi as she dropped to assist her sister.

     Between thrusts, Nabiki told her older sister about the spat that had led to Ranma's current position and what she knew about how it had happened. A dark look crossed Kasumi's features as she noticed that Akane was nowhere to be seen.

     Working with Kasumi's help, Nabiki was finally rewarded with a choking gasp from Ranma. The bedraggled girl drew a shuddering breath and started retching -- coughing up brackish water and a little blood. As her breathing stabilized, Ranma lapsed once more into total unconsciousness.

     "We'd better get him to Tofu-Sensei..." said Kasumi. "You watch him while I get Father."

     A few minutes later, Ranma and a distraught Soun Tendou had been bundled off to Tofu's clinic and the household was quiet once more. Kasumi announced that she was going to have to talk to her little sister. After seeing the expression on Kasumi's face, Nabiki found that she had no interest at all in eavesdropping, and returned to her studies.

     Kasumi reached her sister's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked a little harder, causing the little wooden duck with Akane's name on it to jump. There was a post-it note on the door below the duck on which was scrawled 'and Ranma' in a sloppy hand. When she still received no answer, Kasumi opened the door, and entered the room herself.

     Akane lay on the bed, the shades drawn, with a pair of headphones over her ears. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were clenched into fists. She had her stereo turned up so loud that Kasumi could hear the music from her position by the door.

     Shaking her head in exasperation, Kasumi walked over to Akane's CD player and turned it off. Instantly, Akane was up, whirling around with a shout. "Leave that alone, you jack..." she started to say.

     Akane's outburst stilled as she realized that her visitor was not her husband. Calming herself with visible effort, Akane took off her headphones and hung them on the bedpost. "I'm sorry, Kasumi," she said. "I thought you were Ranma. Is there something that I can do for you?"

     Kasumi nodded. "Yes, Akane. I think that we need to talk." There was no trace of a smile in her expression or her demeanor.

     Akane sat back on her bed as though she'd been slapped -- in a sense, she had. Akane literally could not recall the last time that she had seen Kasumi this upset. It frightened her. "What... what's wrong, Kasumi?" She paused for a beat. "Where's Ranma?"

     "Ranma should be at Tofu-Sensei's clinic by now."

     "Tofu-Sensei's? What happened to him?"

     Kasumi actually scowled. "Akane... you drowned him. If Nabiki had not been watching... if she had not pulled him out of the pond and cleared his lungs... Ranma would be dead right now. You would have killed him."

     "But... but... how..."

     "You threw a barbell at him! He was unconscious when he hit the water. The barbell pinned his girl's body to the bottom, and he drowned."

     "oh... no..." said Akane in a small voice. A bitter cold washed through her, and she shivered violently. "I never meant to..."

     "Akane... You promised me once that you would never strike another person in anger. Do you remember that?"

     Akane nodded. "But... I have to defend myself!" she protested.

     "Of course you must -- but striking a fleeing figure in the back with a barbell is NOT a defensive action! Just what did Ranma do that you felt you had to defend yourself against him? Had he attacked you?"

     "No... but..."

     "Akane, you must learn control. You are a trained martial artist -- you have the ability to do a great deal of harm, if you are not careful. You cannot afford to let your anger control you."

     Akane hung her head. "You're right -- I know... but Ranma is so much better than me -- and he just doesn't take me seriously!"

     "Of course he does -- he loves you!"

     "No! He doesn't! I used to think that he did, but now I know better!"

     "He married you, didn't he? Would he have done that if he didn't love you?"

     "What did that have to do with love? Our dads arranged that -- he just did what they wanted -- what his mother wanted. He doesn't love me!"

     Kasumi sighed to herself. Akane could be so very dense at times. Couldn't she see what everyone else did? The way Ranma looked at her when he thought no one could see -- the way that he was always there -- fighting for her, protecting her? Was she really so blind? "If you really believed that, then why did you marry him?"

     "It was a matter of family honour! I had to marry him!"

     "Akane, there is no honour in marrying someone that you don't love. If you didn't love him, you should have let one of the others have him."

     "But I..."

     "Oh, Akane. This isn't some sort of competition. In a marriage without love, everyone loses. I'll ask again. Do you love him?"

     Akane stiffened in another momentary burst of anger. "Of course not! How could I love an arrogant, fat-headed freak like him?"

     "Akane..."

     But Akane wasn't paying attention to her older sister. As the anger passed, her shoulders slumped and she sagged forward, hugging herself against a chill that was more of the spirit than of the body.

     "No. That's not true. I... I do love him..." Akane said miserably. "It's just that he makes me so mad! He's always so mean to me!"

     "Really? What did he do this time?"

     "The pervert was rooting around in my underwear drawer! I caught him at it red-handed!"

     "That is odd. What do you suppose he was doing?"

     "Who cares?"

     "Don't you think that you ought to at least give him a chance to explain things?" Kasumi wandered over to the tansu and opened the drawer in question. Peeking out from under one of the garments was a small box, wrapped in brightly coloured paper and tied with a ribbon. She lifted the box carefully from its resting place.

     "What's this?" she asked.

     Akane eyed the box warily. "I don't know. Where did you get it?"

     "Your underwear drawer." Kasumi passed the box to her sister.

     Akane hadn't thought that she could feel any worse. Staring morosely at the bright little box, she felt tears begin to burn their way out of her eyes. "He... he was putting this in there, wasn't he? Oh, Kasumi... what have I done?"

     Kasumi softened her tone. "You have to treat him more respectfully -- he's a person, you know. More than that, he is your husband. He deserves your respect, and your trust."

     Akane's voice was very quiet. "You're right. I... What can I do? He must hate me now... at the very least he must think that I hate him..."

     "Ranma still loves you, Akane. But you have to be patient with him. He isn't used to expressing those sorts of feelings. You don't make it any easier when you won't listen to him."

     "I'll try to do better. Really, I will. If it's not too late..."

     Kasumi patted Akane on the shoulder. "I know you will. She headed for the door. "If you need anything, call me. Dinner will be ready in about four hours."

     Akane just nodded. After Kasumi left the room, Akane set the small box on the nightstand and lay back on the bed. She stared at it for a long time, making no efforts to stop the tears that flowed from her eyes. "Oh, Ranma," she said to herself. "Why must it always be like this?" Akane got up, changed into her gi, and headed for the dojo. She had a lot to consider.

     Akane sat in the dojo, leaning against the wall, staring morosely at the remains of a single set of concrete blocks. The fragments seemed to be staring back at her, mutely accusing. You break things, they told her silently. You are always breaking things. When are you going to make something? When are you going to create, rather that just destroy?

     Her whole life had centered around destruction -- beating the world into submission -- battering it until it let go of what she wanted. She was Shiva. Her anger had only made it worse. When she was angry, things got broken; concrete blocks, tables, walls... she looked sadly at the set of weights in the corner and shuddered... and people. She had come close to breaking Ranma today. Too close.

     When the anger overtook her, it was so easy... she hit something, and it would yield. It was proof, in a way, that she did have some control over her environment. It was also, she would later consider, proof that she had too little control over herself. Too many times she had yielded to the mindlessness that came with her greatest source of strength. And when her senses returned, she was surrounded by the debris. Sometimes she felt as if everything she touched was doomed to be destroyed.

     She had gotten to the point where she would no longer buy nice things for herself... what would be the point if they were just going to be destroyed the next time Ranma or someone else ticked her off? Sadly, she scanned the dojo, noting the numerous makeshift patches that adorned the walls. Proper and careful repairs had long since been abandoned as hopelessly optimistic. It was easier and cheaper just to patch, and patch again.

     The only thing that she had ever tried to build, her relationship with Ranma, was on shaky ground at best. She imagined that it was like trying to build a house on a hillside... if the foundations were not laid just so, and cared for afterwards, the house would slide down into the ravine. Akane was afraid that the slide had begun. She just hoped that she would be able to stop it in time.

     Akane was still sitting, lost in thought, when Nabiki came wandering into the dojo, whistling tunelessly. Nabiki stared at her sister with a mixture of pity and envy. She has everything that matters, Nabiki thought to herself, and still, she spends so much time unhappy. Why can't she see how good she has it?

     After a time, Akane noticed her sister's entrance, but she did not look up. When she spoke, her voice was low, her tone somber. "You saved Ranma's life today." It was not a question.

     Nabiki thought about that for a moment. Kasumi would have told her, no doubt. "Yeah... I guess I did."

     "Thank you, Nabiki." Akane's voice caught in her throat. "I owe you... more than I can ever repay."

     Nabiki shrugged. "He's too profitable to lose," she said.

     Akane shook her head -- the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "What does it take, Nabiki, for you to admit that you care?"

     Nabiki stared, dumbfounded. "Of all the people in the world, YOU have the nerve to ask me that?" she asked, disbelief evident in her tone.

     Bristling, Akane turned to her sister. "And just what do you mean by that?" she asked.

     "I mean you and Ranma! Have you ever told him how much you love him? For God's sake, you're married, and I've never heard either one of you say it to the other. The two of you are unbelievable!"

     Akane looked as if she were going to say something, but thought better of it. She snorted and let the irritation drain out of her. "You know, I really hate it when you're right."

     Nabiki sighed and walked over to sit down by her sister. For a long time, neither spoke. They just shared the silence, each taking some measure of comfort from the presence of the other.

     Finally, Nabiki asked, "Why?"

     "Honestly? I don't know."

     "You don't know?"

     "I came into our room... and there he was, bold as brass, digging in one of my drawers... I didn't know what he was doing... I just saw him, and something inside of me snapped." Akane drew her knees up against her chest, and sighed. "The next thing that I can remember clearly is Kasumi telling me that you'd hauled him out of the pond."

     Nabiki paused and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Akane, but I'm afraid that I just don't see how the punishment fits the crime here."

     Akane nodded miserably. "That's the worst part of it. There was no 'crime'. He wasn't doing anything wrong. If I had only listened to him..." Akane trailed off for a moment. "Have you heard from Tofu-Sensei yet? Ranma is going to be okay, isn't he?"

     "He should be okay. He was breathing more or less normally again when Dad hauled him down to the clinic."

     Akane sounded relieved. "Thank God..."

     "Akane... let me give you a little free advice." Nabiki ignored the eyebrow that Akane raised at her use of the term 'free.' "You need to work on having a little more patience. If you don't, you're going to keep making mistakes. Expensive ones. Or worse."

     "I know..." Akane nodded. "Do you think that Ranma will forgive me?"

     Nabiki smiled as she got up. "I'd feel pretty safe in betting on it." Her tone turned serious. "He loves you, Akane. Don't let that get away. It's too precious a thing to lose."

     Akane's answering smile was wan. "Thank you, Nabiki. For everything."

     After leaving Akane in the dojo, Nabiki had gone back to her room to resume her studies and to keep from being in the way of Kasumi's dinner preparations. College had been easy for her so far, and she was determined to keep it that way. She had finished her Statistics assignment and was just getting ready to start working on her Economics when there came a gentle tapping at her bedroom door.

     "Come in," she called.

     The door opened slowly to reveal Ranma standing hesitantly on the threshold. Nabiki stood up and motioned for Ranma to come into the room. Nabiki flinched inwardly as she got a good look at her.

     Ranma's clothes were still rumpled from her recent immersion, and she seemed a little pale to Nabiki. There was a laboured quality to her breathing, an asthmatic rattle that Nabiki figured to be a mild case of pneumonia. The air of confident assurance that Nabiki had come to associate with Ranma was gone -- her manner was subdued and she kept her head down, as though she were afraid to make eye contact.

     "Did you just get back from the clinic? Are you feeling better?"

     The redhead nodded, but did not look up.

     "Have you talked to Akane yet? She's... she's been very worried about you."

     Ranma stiffened slightly and shook her head in the negative. Nabiki could all but feel the tension like a charge of static electricity. Still, Ranma had said nothing.

     "Was there something that you wanted?" Nabiki prompted gently.

     "I... I just wanted to thank you, Nabiki..." Ranma's voice was very quiet. "Kasumi told me that you were the one that pulled me out of the pond. I... owe you my life."

     Nabiki laughed a touch nervously. "Not to worry, Ranma. I'll send you a bill."

     Ranma nodded and reached into her pocket, withdrawing the small pouch in which she carried her money. She held it out to the Tendou girl, but Nabiki made no move to take the pouch. After a moment, Ranma looked up at her curiously.

     Nabiki was staring coldly at the redhead, her expression a mix of anger and of pain. "That was," she said stiffly, "A joke. You know. Like the funny kind?"

     Ranma blinked uncertainly. After a moment, she nodded slowly, and returned the pouch to her pocket. "I'm sorry, Nabiki. I didn't mean to make you angry, too." She seemed to deflate a little, and, turning away, shuffled listlessly out of the room. She paused for a moment on the threshold. "Thank you, Nabiki. I'm... sorry." The door closed behind her with a soft click.

     Nabiki had watched her go with tears in her eyes. "I know, Ranma." Her reply was soft, but her voice was thick with emotion. "I'm sorry, too... For a lot of things."

     Akane found Ranma in the dojo that evening after supper. He was working through a kata that was more a dance than an exercise -- one pose dissolving fluidly into the neext. Akane just watched him for a time, admiring the way he moved, his calm precision, and the aura of quiet power that he seemed to radiate. It was quite a contrast from the timid young girl that had kept shying away from her at the dinner table.

     Akane shuddered. Dinner had been a tense, almost painful affair. Despite the others' attempts to act like nothing had happened, Akane had still felt like a bug under a microscope. She had not really felt comfortable trying to approach Ranma with the rest of the family present. For her part, Ranma had seemed equally reluctant, even fearful. She had remained silent throughout the entire meal, had eaten little, and would not meet anyone's gaze.

     Ranma finished his exercise and toweled the sweat from his body. He moved to a corner of the dojo, sat down, facing the wall, and adopted a meditative position. Taking a deep breath, Akane entered the training hall. She had an apology to make.

     "Ranma."

     In the blink of an eye, the frightened girl from dinner was back. Ranma faced her, his back pressed to the wall, eyes wide, watching her warily. Akane's heart tore at the sight. Was this what she had done to him? Was he really so afraid of her? A voice in the back of her mind nagged at her... "Are you satisfied now?" it asked.

     Akane came into the dojo slowly, trying her best to project a sense of peace and calm. Moving to the centre of the training hall, Akane knelt on the floor facing him and put her hands in her lap. Ranma twitched once, but held his ground.

     "Ranma... I am so sorry. I... I never wanted to hurt you."

     Ranma settled into more of a sitting position, but he kept his back against the wall. "Do you think that it feels good to be hit with flying barbells?" Ranma asked guardedly.

     Akane hung her head. "No. Of course not. I was angry -- I wasn't thinking. I... I am very much ashamed of what I did."

     Ranma was silent, waiting for her to continue.

     "I just saw you rooting in that drawer, and... and I didn't know what you were up to. I don't even know what I thought you might be doing. After having had Happousai around for so long, I just..."

     Ranma's eyes went wide again. "You're comparing me to that... that old freak?" Akane winced at the hurt in his voice.

     "No! It's not that! It's just... Why? Why didn't you just explain what you were doing?"

     "Akane... when have you ever heard me out before clobbering me? I tried! But you didn't give me a chance, did you? You just jumped to a conclusion, and started throwing!" Ranma turned his gaze to the floor. "Besides. It was supposed to be a surprise."

     "It was that," Akane said dryly.

     "You found it then?"

     "Kasumi did."

     "Did you... did you like it?"

     "I haven't opened it... I wasn't sure... I wasn't sure that you would still want me to have it."

     "I bought it for you."

     "Oh, Ranma... will you... can you ever forgive me?"

     Ranma stared into his wife's eyes for a long moment before he said anything. Finally, he nodded. "There is," he said, "a condition."

     Akane nodded. "Name it."

     "The next time something like this happens, I want you to promise me that you'll listen before you decide to hit me. Promise me that you'll at least hear my side of it first. Okay?"

     "I promise. I... I don't ever want to come this close to losing you again."

     After a moment, Ranma smiled tentatively and said. "Why don't you go open your present? I'll be up as soon as I bathe."

     Sitting in the tub, Ranma let the heat soak in and burn away the tension of the days events. There was still a tightness in his chest, but Tofu-Sensei had assured him that it would be gone soon.

     Ranma hoped that Akane would like her present. This was not the way he would have chosen to give it to her -- he had hoped that he could surprise her with it. But maybe it would be better this way. Akane had promised to listen to him the next time.

     If she would just do that -- if she would hear what he had to say before she started to pound him, then she would see. She would see that he DID love her -- and that it wasn't his fault. All it would take would be that one time, and the others would follow.

     Ranma sighed to himself. Yes, that was the answer. The next time, Akane was going to listen before she hit him. He would make sure of that. Then everything would be okay again. Ranma got out of the tub and toweled himself off. Shrugging into his yukata, he headed upstairs feeling better than he had in weeks.

     The next couple of weeks were frantic indeed. Finals, and the college entry exams were all coming up, and everyone was scrambling to get ready. Even Ranma was spending most of his time studying. And so a peculiar quiet descended upon the Tendou home.

     Long hours, lots of tea, and piles of books became standard operating procedure. For the N'th time, Ranma thought as he was studying his algebra, he wished there were such a thing as 'Martial Arts Maths.'

     For the time being, he and Akane were getting along well, as long as the topics did not stray from their studies. She helped him with his English and algebra, while he helped her with geometry. Ranma's martial arts training had given him a good grasp of spatial relations. They worked out the calculus together.

     Chemistry, physics, history, economics... there was so much to be studied that Ranma and Akane simply didn't have the time to be at each other's throats for once. Strained as the relative silence was, those who were not tearing their hair out over upcoming exams were reveling in it. They knew that it would be over all too soon.

     When the tests finally came, they were something of an anticlimax. At first, Akane had been worried -- they had been too easy. She just knew that she had made major blunders on all of them, so she tended to be a little snappish while they were all waiting for the results. For once, Ranma read her mood correctly and made an effort to stay out of her way. Though he did leave her a rose and a small box of her favourite chocolates on her pillow one night. She decided that she would forgive him for that.

     When the results were finally posted, the wave of relief that Akane felt was almost a physical force. She had consistently scored in the 98th percentile on all of her tests. While there were one or two schools in Japan that would want better marks, they were more than adequate to get her into any school she was likely to want to attend.

     Surprisingly, Ranma had also done very well. His marks were not as good as Akane's, but he didn't have one below the 85th percentile. Several of them were even in the 90's. Ranma's attitude was noncommittal. Not a stellar performance, he decided, but he could live with it.

     In reality, Ranma was just as relieved as Akane. He knew that he had not been as diligent in school as he might have been, though he really did not expect to need what they had to teach for his chosen career. He already had the training in the Art and was learning more every day.

     The night that the last of the exam scores were posted, there was a party at the dojo. The mood was celebratory as Ranma and Akane were finally able to relax somewhat and bask in the glow of their achievements. It would start again all too soon if one, or both of them actually elected to attend college.

     Ranma was happy for Akane -- he knew how much she hated to do housework and suspected that she would choose to go to college, if only to have career options besides being a martial arts instructor or a housewife. An image of Akane in the kitchen flashed through his mind and he smiled. Yes, college would be a good choice for Akane.

     For his own part, Ranma suspected that he would continue teaching his classes at the dojo for the time being. If he changed his mind and decided to go to college after all, there was always the next year. The hard part was behind him. At least, he hoped it was. He glanced at Akane, who was in a corner with one of her friends laughing. It was good to see her smile again. He hoped that it would continue, now that exams were over.

     It was late afternoon, and the rains had come to wash away the heat and dust of the day. Occasional thunderclaps rumbled for attention, adding a base note to the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

     Ranma was relaxing in the tub, letting his mind wander as the heat soaked into sore muscles. Why, he asked himself for the thousandth time, couldn't that old crone just realize that it was over? That she had lost. That there was no way he was going to marry Shampoo. What had the two of them hoped to gain by that stunt? Ranma shook his head in disgust.

     At least Shampoo had possessed the good sense to have been embarrassed about it afterwards. Ranma was starting to feel that he had misjudged her... there was a lot more to the Amazon princess than met the eye. He was sure that she'd be a lot happier if she could just get away from the old hag. Ranma could not help feeling regret at the way Nabiki had insured her lack of interference at the wedding. It had worked, but it had not been... honourable.

     He was dimly aware that someone had entered the changing room, but it didn't really register until he heard Akane's voice shatter the calm. "What in God's name is that smell?"

     Ranma listened as Akane began rooting through the clothes bins until, finally, she thought to check the waste basket. Oboy, thought Ranma. Here it comes. Almost as if by magic, Akane's shout followed that thought.

     "Ranma!" The door to the changing room was slid aside so forcefully that it almost jumped its track. Akane stood framed in the opening, waving the shredded remains of one of Ranma's Chinese shirts in one hand while she covered her nose with the other. For the second time that day, Ranma's senses were assaulted by the overpowering scent of cheap perfume and wet cat. He shuddered.

     "And just what is this?!" Akane bellowed at him.

     Ranma blinked. "That," he said carefully, "is what is left of one of my favourite shirts."

     "You know," said Akane through clenched teeth, "what I meant. Just what happened? Why does it smell like a Chinese cathouse?"

     Ranma flinched at Akane's choice of words and tried to sink a little lower in the tub.

     Dropping the tattered rag back in the wastebasket, Akane stalked towards the tub. "I'll bet Shampoo had something to do with this. It was that Amazon bimbo again, wasn't it?"

     "Now, Akane, you're not being fair. You know what her grandmother is like!"

     "So! It was Shampoo!"

     Ranma froze for an instant, then, reluctantly, he nodded. "Yeah. It was Shampoo. I tried to..."

     Akane reacted on instinct. "You pervert! You're married now! You're married to me!" She aimed a vicious punch for Ranma's nose.

     The blow never connected. Ranma intercepted it, catching her fist in his hand. Akane snarled wordlessly and threw another punch with her free hand. Again, Ranma caught the blow. "Hey! You promised that you would listen to me for once, before you tried to beat me to a pulp. Don't you remember that?"

     Akane glared at him and tried to draw her fists back to strike again, but his grip was iron. "You promised," he reminded her again. Sullenly, she nodded her acquiescence.

     After studying her for a moment, Ranma nodded and released her hands. She drew up the stool, adjusted the sash on her yukata, sat down by the tub, and waited for him to continue.

     Akane remained expressionless as Ranma related the day's events. At several points during the narrative, Ranma had paused, as if waiting for Akane to say something, but she remained silent. Ranma would shrug, and resume his explanation. He told her everything; he left out no detail, no matter how small.

     After he finished his story, he leaned back and waited. Akane just sat there, staring at him, saying nothing. Ranma was starting to get a bit annoyed and was about to say something when Akane got up and headed for the door. She paused for a moment, and looked back at him, but he could tell nothing from her expression. Then she flipped off the lights, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

     "Well. That went well..." said Ranma to himself.

     Ranma sat alone, in the darkness, thinking. Why was she so mad at him? He hadn't done anything! Heck, he'd been trying to get away from Shampoo. It just wasn't fair! She never believed him -- even those times when she had seen it with her own eyes. Why?

     He had told her the truth -- as he always had. She had not wanted to listen at first -- she never did. But Ranma was determined that, for once, he would have his chance for a full explanation. For once he was going to have his say before he let her pound him. He had promised his mother that the fighting would stop. If only he could get Akane to listen to him -- to understand that it hadn't been his fault -- it would all be all right.

     So he had told her the truth -- and what had it gotten him?

     Ranma sighed to himself. He would be a long time forgetting the look on Akane's face when he had caught her punch. The burst of anger, the grim set of determination, and the second fist had come for him. He'd caught that one too -- and Akane had agreed, reluctantly, to listen. But the look on her face had hurt him more than her blows ever could. There had been a flash of such anger, of such rage that it had bordered on hatred. In a way, Ranma wished that he'd just let the blows land as he always had.

     Despite the heat of the water, Ranma shivered. Now he had hurt Akane. Again. Ranma got out of the tub, and dried himself off. He dressed in a clean set of clothes and followed after his wife. Maybe if he told her that he was sorry, he could repair the damage. He hoped so.

     Ranma came up quietly behind Akane. Then he realized what she was doing. All thoughts about apologies vanished from his mind, replaced by another hurt; an older hurt that was no less painful for its familiarity.

     "Checking up on me?" he asked.

     "You didn't really expect me to believe that story, did you?"

     "As it happens, I did. It was the truth! You don't trust me at all, do you?"

     "Well..." She looked up at her husband -- and flinched when she saw the hurt in his eyes. "Ranma..." she started to say.

     Ranma took a step back. "Do you really think so little of me? Do you think that I would make up a story like that? That I would lie to my wife?"

     Akane started to get defensive. "Well, your father certainly..." she began to say, regretting the words the instant she spoke them.

     Ranma stiffened. Akane could almost see the shields he was putting up, the barriers that were once more rising between them. The barriers that were shutting her out. Why did it always have to be this way? She started to reach for him, but he retreated from her.

     Ranma's tone was cold. "I," he said quietly, "am not my father."

     Ranma spun on his heel, and was gone.

     Akane almost went after him. Almost. Instead, she sighed and turned back to the phone. She wanted to believe Ranma. More than anything, she wanted to believe that he had told her the truth and that there really was no reason for her to be angry with him. But when it came right down to it, she just could not. This sort of thing just happened far too frequently for her to believe that it was all innocent.

     But every time she had checked his stories out in the past, they had been true. Why couldn't she just give him the benefit of the doubt? Why not believe what he told her? Ranma had told her on countless occasions that he was not interested in Shampoo... Was it so hard to believe that he might have meant it?

     An image of the bubbly amazon bounced through Akane's mind. Shampoo had a supple grace and an exotic beauty that she could not hope to match. Whenever she compared herself to Shampoo, she always felt so plain... positively dowdy by contrast.

     Of course Ranma was interested in her. What man wouldn't be? What kind of fool did he take her for? Angrily, Akane seized the handset on the phone and dialed the first number on her list.

     Half an hour later, Akane hung up the phone and sighed. Ranma had told her the absolute truth. Again. For a moment she almost wished that he had been lying -- then maybe she wouldn't feel so bad for having doubted him.

     A gentle rain was still falling when Akane found Ranma in the dojo, sitting quietly by himself, staring into the nothingness. The remains of two training dummies and almost an entire pallet of concrete blocks lay scattered where they had fallen. Ranma had been very upset indeed.

     "Ranma..." The figure before her tensed, but made no other response.

     "Ranma..." she said again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. It's not... it's not that I don't trust you..."

     "Isn't it?" Ranma's voice was almost a whisper. "Hasn't that been a part of the problem between us since the day we met? You've never trusted me."

     Akane remembered that day well. "It might not have been, if you had told me that you were a boy from the beginning..."

     "And you would have believed that?"

     Irritation washed through Akane. "That's not fair! You never gave me a chance to trust you, let alone a reason!"

     Ranma sighed. "Look. I know that I was difficult to deal with back then. But I never wanted to hurt you."

     Akane started to interrupt, but thought better of it when she saw Ranma's expression.

     "You have to understand... I was angry, confused. This... curse," Ranma fairly spat the word, "this curse was still new. And the first time Pop ever mentioned any engagement, we were almost to your house. I only found out about it a few minutes before you did."

     The memories of that day flowed past her mind's eye. She was starting to get mad again just thinking about it.

     Ranma, sensing her mood, shifted the topic. "Do you have any idea how much it meant to me, that first day, when you asked if I wanted to be your friend? How much I wanted that friendship... needed that friendship?"

     Akane looked surprised. Ranma looked at the floor again.

     "And after our sparring session... do you remember what you said?"

     "About how glad I was that you were a girl? That I was glad that you weren't a boy?"

     Ranma nodded glumly. "After that... what was I supposed to say? There was no way for me to win. And when you found out that I was a boy..." Ranma seemed to sag.

     Akane flinched as the pain in his voice struck her. "Ranma..."

     "Akane, tell me. Have I lied to you since we've been married? Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?"

     That caught Akane off guard. "What?! Of course you have! Lots of times!" she retorted.

     Ranma just looked at her sadly. "Have I? When? Just give me one example."

     "What do you...?"

     "A single event will do. Name just one time that you can show that I lied to you."

     Akane gaped at him. The thousand and one examples that were always on the tip of her tongue seemed to have deserted her. She could not come up with a single instance. She could feel the rage starting to build inside her.

     "You see?" Ranma's tone was as mournful as his expression. "You've been so angry at me ever since you found out that I was really a boy that you've never given me a chance to explain anything." Ranma paused. "And when you did hear what I was saying, it was always when I managed to put my foot in my mouth..."

     "Well, that happens often enough," Akane replied, glad to be back on familiar ground.

     Ranma shot her a dark look, but it did not change the wistful tone in his voice. "Then there are the times that you let that anger go. It doesn't happen often any more, but in those moments you are so beautiful..."

     Akane looked at him in shock. "Ranma..."

     Ranma looked wearily up at her. "Does that really surprise you so much?" he asked. He shook his head. "Our fathers arranged this marriage. They made a LOT of mistakes along the way. But I didn't marry you because of them. I didn't marry you because of Mom." He paused.

     "Then why..." began Akane.

     "Dammit, Akane, I married you because I lo... I lo... oh hell. I married you because I LOVE you! I love you more than anything or anyone else in this world! And I thought... I had hoped... that maybe you loved me too." Ranma got to his feet, gave Akane one more sad look, and heedless of the rain, walked out of the training hall and into the night.

     Akane was left doing a fair impersonation of a goldfish. Her eyes were wide, her mouth would open and then snap shut, but she made no sound. Those words... that admission had come hard for Ranma. For an instant, the shields had come down. He had at last started to really share his feelings with her. She had waited so long for this moment; prayed so hard for it; now it had finally come...

     And she had spoiled it.

     Damn! Was it always going to be like this? Were she and Ranma destined always to be at each other's throats? She had known that he loved her -- she had known for a long time. But she had never been able to admit it to herself, any more than she had been able to admit her love for him. There were still times that she was sure it was all an illusion -- that none of what she felt was real. It was all so very confusing!

     Akane was beginning to feel like she was in over her head. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to get some advice. With a sigh, she headed back into the house. Maybe Kasumi would be able to help her.

     Kasumi, however, was not at home. A note in the kitchen said that she had gone to do the shopping and run some other errands, and that she would be back directly, with dinner. Akane hesitated for a moment, and then headed for Nabiki's room. If she didn't talk to someone, she was afraid that her head would explode.

     Nabiki was sprawled on her bed with her nose buried in a manga when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," she called.

     The door opened, and hesitant footfalls sounded as someone walked over to the chair at her desk. The chair squeaked as the person sat down. Then there was silence until Nabiki reached the end of the chapter in her manga and turned to face her visitor.

     "Akane! What's wrong?" she asked.

     Akane just sat there for a few moments, as if trying to collect her thoughts. Finally, she said, "It's Ranma."

     Might have known, thought Nabiki. "Don't you ever get tired of fighting with Ranma?"

     "I wasn't fighting with him!" Akane said, a little defensively. "Ranma won't fight me anymore."

     Nabiki blinked. "And this disturbs you? If he won't fight you, then why do you pound on him so?

     "He's always making fun of me -- causing trouble. And he keeps sneaking around with other women!"

     "Other women? What other women?"

     "Ukyou, mostly!"

     "Ukyou is his friend, right? He probably doesn't even think of her as a woman. Why do you object to him visiting her?"

     "Because he spends more time with her than he spends with me."

     "First of all, that's not true, and you know it."

     "Okay, maybe not, but he spends an awful LOT of time with her!"

     Nabiki was getting exasperated. "Maybe he'd spend more time with you if you would quit kicking him out of the house! If you weren't always hitting him or yelling at him!"

     "Hey! Just whose side are you on, anyway?"

     "I'm not on any side. I want to see you two get along. I want some peace around here for a change!" Nabiki tried another tack. "Akane, I wasn't your first choice to talk to about this, was I?"

     "What? Sure you..."

     "Akane, I know better. You went looking for Kasumi first, didn't you?"

     After the briefest of hesitations, Akane nodded guiltily.

     "Do you want to know why?"

     Akane blinked. Wasn't that supposed to have been her line? "I just figured that she would have more time to talk..." Akane started to say.

     Nabiki shook her head. "Nope. You went looking for Kasumi because you knew that she would pat you on the head, tell you not to worry, and that everything would be all right. And I won't do that."

     "That's not fair!"

     "Isn't it? I know that Ranma can be a jerk some of the time..."

     "A LOT of the time!"

     "Fine. A lot of the time. But he is not the sole cause of all of your problems."

     "What's that supposed to mean? I thought that you were going to help me!"

     Nabiki sighed. "Akane... you came to me for advice. I'm trying to give it to you, but I'm not going to sugar-coat things like Kasumi does. You have to take some of the responsibility here. You can't keep blaming Ranma for everything. You have to meet him half way."

     "Why are you defending him?"

     Nabiki had had enough. "I'm not defending him! But I know how the poor bastard feels! I know what it's like to have everyone doubt your word -- to have everyone suspicious of anything that you do or say. I'm not proud of that, but I know whose fault it is!"

     "Nabiki!"

     "Dammit, Akane, listen to me. You have got to learn to learn that you are the only one who can control yourself. You can't blame it on someone else if you can't control your own temper."

     Akane started to get up, fists clenching and a dark expression on her face. She took a step toward her sister, but Nabiki froze her with a look. "What are you gonna do, sis? Hit me? Will that make you feel better?"

     Akane dropped back into the chair, an expression of stunned horror on her face. "Hit you? I almost... I... I'm sorry, Nabiki..."

     "There, do you see what I mean? You were about to lose it again. Whose fault would it have been? Mine? Ranma's?"

     "Yes, I see your point." Akane shuddered and hung her head.

     "Do you? You didn't hit me -- but you do hit Ranma. All the time. Why should he want to spend his time getting pounded?"

     "But he deserves it!"

     "Does he? How do you know? You're never going to get along with Ranma the way you want to until you learn to listen to him. You've got to learn to trust him."

     "But how can I trust him? How can I know that he's telling me the truth?"

     "You have to take it on faith, Akane. That's what trust is all about. I can only tell you that for as long as I've known Ranma, he has never done anything to deliberately hurt you. Not deep down. He loves you, and he always has."

     "Do you... do you really think so?"

     Nabiki smiled. "I know so."

     "Maybe you're right..." Akane slumped miserably in the chair. "Oh, God, I've really messed things up now. The last thing he said to me tonight was that he loved me. He said it, Nabiki. I heard him. He finally said it." Akane looked like she was about ready to cry. "Now it may be too late."

     "Akane, it is not too late. I've told you before, you just need to open up a little. You've got it pretty good, if you'd just open your eyes and see it."

     *Ring*

     "Damn! Konatsu, can you take over here for a second? Thanks." Ukyou grabbed for the receiver. "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki Ya! How can I help you? Kasumi? No, I haven't seen him for a couple of days. Why? What's going on?"

     Ukyou listened for a few moments, and her brow began to furrow. "That's not like him... have you tried the Nekohanten?" A pause. "I see. Okay, Kasumi. Don't worry. I'll see what I can do. Ja."

     Ukyou hung up the phone and turned to see Konatsu regarding her with a curious expression. "Ran-chan's missing." she said in answer to his unvoiced question. "He missed dinner. Apparently, he and Akane had a bit of a... disagreement this afternoon, and Ranma left. No one has seen him since."

     Ukyou took off her apron and reached for a light jacket. Then she buckled on her bandolier of throwing spatulas. For a moment, she considered taking her combat spatula but decided to leave it behind. She turned back to Konatsu. "Take care of the place, will you? If Kasumi calls again, tell her that I'll bring Ranma home as soon as I find him." At the kunoichi's nod, she walked out into the rain to begin her search.

     Ukyou searched for hours. Ranma was nowhere to be found. He was not under his favourite bridge, he wasn't near the school, he wasn't in the park -- none of his friends from school had seen any trace of him. Ukyou widened her search pattern and started checking in every open eating or drinking establishment that she could find. She checked the kissatens, the pubs, the beer halls, and the bars.

     Finally, over five hours after Kasumi had first called her, Ukyou's persistence paid off. She had come across a seedy little cabaret on the south side of the district called the Cha Cha Maru. She walked up to the bar and asked the master the same questions that she had been asking all night.

     Had he seen a dark-haired young man with a pigtail? No, he hadn't. However, when she asked if he had seen a redheaded girl with a pigtail, she was directed to a little back corner booth, all but hidden in the shadows. When she reached the indicated booth, Ukyou was a little shocked by the sight that greeted her.

     Something inside Ranma had broken. She looked okay physically, but a bit of the spark was gone, and there was a weariness about her that went well beyond her years. Her face was flushed, her eyes were red and puffy, and it was apparent that she had been crying. Judging from the number of sake bottles on the table in front of her, she was more than a little sloshed.

     Ranma didn't even look up; she just waved an empty bottle listlessly and muttered, "Another one, please."

     Ukyou eased into the booth, opposite Ranma. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

     Ranma looked blearily up at her visitor. After a moment, her eyes seemed to clear a bit, and recognition dawned. "Ucchan! 'sgreat! Pull up a seat an' siddown. 'ave a drink!" Ranma started to pass a sake bottle toward Ukyou, then noticed that it was empty. She frowned at it. "'sfunny... coulda sworn it was full a minute ago..." Rapping the tabletop with the empty bottle, Ranma called the waitress.

     While they were waiting for the waitress to return with more sake, Ukyou asked, "So. What's up? What are you doing here?"

     Ranma smiled drunkenly. "'m havin' a party! 'm celebratin'!"

     "Really? What's the occasion?"

     "Finally told her, didn't I? Yup! Finally told her, I did!"

     "Told her? Told who? What did you tell her, Ran-chan?"

     "Told Akane. Finally told her. Told her I loved her, I did." There was a pause, and Ranma seemed to fall in on herself, collapsing like a poorly inflated balloon. "She didn't believe me. She never believes me."

     "Ran-chan..."

     Ranma hiccoughed and wagged a finger. "'S'not like I'm like Pop... nope. Nothing like the ol' man. But ya can't tell her that... oh, no! The high an' mighty miss Akane can do no wrong -- and lil' ol' Ranma can never be right. 's'a perfeck match, inn't it?" She paused to take a breath.

     "What do I have to do, Ucchan? Why won't she trust me?" Tears welled up in the redhead's eyes. "She never believes me... I've tried so hard... but no matter what I do... she still won't take anything I say on faith..."

     Ukyou had no idea what to say. A silence descended over the little booth, and the waitress returned with another supply of sake. After she left, Ranma took one of the bottles and drained half of it in one gulp.

     Ranma looked imploringly at her friend. "I didn't do anything, Ucchan! I swear, I didn't! It was the truth! Only an idiot would make up a story like that!"

     "Whoa, I believe you, Ran-chan!"

     "There, ya see? I tol' her it was the truth, but no..." The sake bottle in Ranma's hand exploded as she tightened her grip. She didn't even notice. "Whatever happens... it's always my fault. It's always my fault... my fault..." Tears were flowing freely now. "I don't know what to do anymore..." she said in a small voice.

     Ukyou reached across the table and took hold of Ranma's hands. "The first thing we do, Ran-chan, is get you home."

     Panic filled Ranma's eyes. "Home? No... no... can't go there. Akane... she's there. It would be bad..."

     Ukyou sighed. "You could stay at the Ucchan, if you want. There's a spare room in the back."

     For the first time since she had found her, something like the ghost of a smile passed over Ranma's features. "Thanks, Ucchan... I appreci... appreeshi... I'm grateful for the offer. But you know as well as I do what Akane would do if she ever found out about that..." Ranma picked up another little bottle and tossed back its contents.

     "Where else can you go?"

     Ranma looked glum. "I'm doomed..." A brief flare of hope. "I could live under the bridge for a while..." Her face fell. "No, I guess not." A heavy sigh. "I really don't have a choice, do I?"

     Ukyou smiled sadly. "Now, Ran-chan. You know that I can't answer that one for you."

     "'S'not like it matters anyway..." Ranma's tone was bitter. "It's never gonna be any different... it's never gonna change, is it? She'll never trust me, no matter what I do. 'S'not fair!" Ranma sniffled loudly and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve.

     Ukyou's heart ached to see the emptiness in her friend's expression. Ranma had given up hope. Not knowing what else to do, she squeezed Ranma's hand and said, "C'mon, Ran-chan. Let's go home. It'll be better in the morning. You'll see." She hoped that the words would be true, but deep down, she doubted it.

     Ranma nodded resignedly, and got to her feet. As soon as she was out of her seat, she was starting to fall. She caught herself on the table and waited for the dizziness to pass. Then, with Ukyou's help, she staggered up toward the bar and paid her tab.

     They had just made it out of the bar, when Ranma spoke up again, her voice strained. "Ucchan?"

     "Yes, Ran-chan?"

     "M'gonna be sick..."

     Five o'clock in the morning. Normal people were all asleep, thought Ukyou disgustedly. She sighed and shifted her burden to the other shoulder. Even as a girl Ran-chan could get heavy after a few miles. Fortunately, the dojo was just ahead.

     Two blocks later, she was standing in the entryway to the Tendou home. She hoped that there would be someone up... She didn't want to be responsible for waking anyone, but she had made a promise. Hesitantly, she knocked at the door.

     Seconds later, Kasumi answered. Ukyou blinked. Kasumi was not only up, but was dressed and acting as if she'd been up for hours. Did this woman never sleep? Shrugging mentally, Ukyou smiled and said, "Good morning, Kasumi. I found her."

     Kasumi smiled warmly and beckoned Ukyou into the house. "Thank you, Ukyou. You are a good friend to Ranma. Would you bring him this way, please?" She led Ukyou into the house and to a vacant room on the first floor. Ukyou set her load on the futon as gently as she could, then stood and stretched to relieve the cramping in her aching muscles. Kasumi had set about tending to Ranma.

     Walking to the end of the room, Ukyou sat down on a chest to rest and catch her breath before making the trip back to the restaurant, and her own apartment. She was grateful that she didn't open until eleven. Not that it mattered -- she was planning on letting Konatsu handle the morning shift. She was going to sleep.

     There was a patter of footsteps outside the room, and the door opened to reveal a very worried-looking Akane. "Kasumi? I thought that I heard voices..." She trailed off as she caught sight of the figure on the futon. "Ranma!" she cried, running forward.

     Gently, Kasumi intercepted her sister's charge. "Now, Akane... you must let Ranma sleep. Unless I miss my guess, he has had rather a lot to drink and will, no doubt, be feeling the effects." She looked briefly to Ukyou, who nodded confirmation.

     Akane noticed Ukyou for the first time. Her expression darkened, as she added two and two to make a well-rounded five. "So," she said, her voice dripping acid. "She spent the night with you, did she? I might have known it. And to think that I was worried about the pervert."

     "Hey, hey, calm down," said Ukyou. "She wasn't with me. I found her in a bar a couple of hours ago."

     "You think that I'm gonna believe that?"

     Ukyou shrugged. "It's the truth. There are witnesses, if you'd like. Though I'm beginning to see why Ranma was so upset."

     "Then what took you so long to get her here?" Akane growled.

     "Akane!" exclaimed Kasumi, scandalized. "Don't be so rude! Ukyou has been very helpful."

     Ukyou stood wearily and headed for the door. "It's okay, Kasumi. Some things will never change, will they?" She turned to Akane. "For your information, Mrs. Saotome, your husband over there was drinking herself into a stupor because she's convinced that you don't love her and that you don't trust her. If I were you, I'd be thinking about how I was going to convince her otherwise.

     "And as for 'what took so long to get here,' I carried her back here over two and a half miles." Ukyou was out of the room and on her way out the door before Akane had a chance to start thinking of a clever response.

     Akane sat alone in the darkness of the training hall, thinking. The shattered remains of a large number of concrete blocks were arrayed around her, like some surreal landscape -- all hard, unforgiving lines and broken edges. It matched her mood perfectly.

     Ukyou's words had stung, more than she cared to admit. More to the point, since she had brought him home, there was something wrong with Ranma. Something was missing. He was still as much of a jerk as ever, but some of the vitality was gone. He would still declare his innocence, but there was no more force behind those protestations. It was almost as if he didn't care anymore. As though he no longer expected her to trust him.

     Trust Ranma. Hah! That was a laugh. Did everyone think that she was stupid? Did she have 'moron' tattooed across her forehead or something? It was infuriating! Nabiki had almost convinced her -- almost had her believing that Ranma really did love her.

     Though something Nabiki had said was still bothering her... about fighting... Was it true? Was she fighting with Ranma too much? How could that be? He wouldn't fight her! Nabiki was imagining things. Of course it was all Ranma's fault. Everything would be fine, if only he'd fight back! If only she could show him that she was more than some doll for him to protect. She, too, was a trained martial artist. She, too, was a fighter.

     Akane almost could not remember a time when she had not been fighting. Fighting had come to define a part of her -- it was what made her feel truly alive. She thought back over the span of years and let the memories wash over her. Some of the most intense images were here -- of this place. There were others, but her mind shied away from them, nervous, in the dark.

     Whenever she had come upon a problem that she could not solve, whenever she had to deal with the frustration of things she could not control, the dojo had been her sanctuary. She had come here to vent that frustration, to feel the surge of power as the adrenaline coursed through her, to strike back, however symbolically, at a world that didn't seem to care about the needs or the desires of Tendou Akane. She came here a LOT. It had been so ever since... ever since she was a little girl.

     Occasionally, she had slipped. A new and unfamiliar technique, or perhaps just her impatience getting the better of her as she rushed through her exercises, and there would be pain as her body betrayed her, unable to keep the pace that her mind and heart demanded of it. When that had happened, Kasumi had sent her to see the doctor.

     The first time, she had refused. The injury had made her angry more than it really hurt, and it seemed silly to go to the doctor over such a little thing. It made her feel weak. Besides. What could a doctor do? They had no power...

     But Tofu-Sensei had made her feel better. He had listened to her account of the injury, and after just a few moments he had made the pain go away. He had even told her a secret to help her master the technique she had been trying. From then on, when she had hurt herself, she had gone willingly.

     Tofu-Sensei had always made her feel better -- made the pain go away. He had a strength that astonished her, yet he was so calm and so gentle. It was as if he could channel that peace into her, soothing her troubled spirit and washing away the embers that burned deep in her soul, leaving her feeling cool and refreshed. She had loved him for it.

     As she grew older and her skills had grown, so had the number of things that caused her frustration. She had thrown herself into the Art with a vengeance -- earning a reputation for being a tomboy in the process. Akane wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't been for the mildly disapproving feeling that she got from Kasumi.

     At least Kunou-senpai and the boys at school were easy to deal with. If she thumped them in the morning, they would leave her alone for the rest of the day. A sort of balance was achieved, and life fell into a routine. But when Ranma had come, she had lost her balance -- the routine had been shattered. In an instant, her entire world had been turned upside down.

     Ranma had a strength and a skill that left her in awe -- but he had an attitude that drove her to distraction. He could be so nice, but always in such a backhanded way that she was often unsure whether he had complimented her or insulted her. She had usually felt safer in assuming the latter. Had that been fair? She didn't know.

     Strangely, Ranma had also come as a relief -- when something went wrong, she never had to look far for the reason. He was always there, at the center of the chaos. Gradually, her anger had begun to find a focus.

     Before her rage had been spread among the many would-be suitors that attacked her in the mornings. As they had given up the chase in the face of Ranma's arrival, Akane had put more and more of that energy into her feud with her would-be husband. Every time he won a fight, every time he learned a new technique, her drive to beat him grew -- she poured more of her anger out against him.

     Ranma had become a symbol of sorts. It was now almost a religion to her -- to defeat the chaos -- to finally win against the forces over which she had no control, she had to defeat Ranma. But lately, even that hope had been denied her -- how could she defeat someone who refused to fight her?

     Ranma decided to go down and see Ucchan again. Whenever he was particularly depressed, he'd go to see her. He'd been going to see her a lot lately. He knew that Akane didn't like it, but he had made a vow. He had sworn that he would never abandon his friend -- that he would never neglect her. For Ranma, friends, real friends, were entirely too hard to come by. Ukyou was always there for him, and she always listened.

     When he wasn't in the mood to talk, she would. She'd tell him about how business was going or about a new technique she'd learned. On occasion, she'd tell him about the last person she'd gone on a date with and why it was never going to work. She was always so bright and friendly, so full of life and optimism that spending time with her never failed to make him feel better.

     She was also one of the only people that he would trust to ask for advice in dealing with Akane. Her suggestions were usually good ones and worked well, as long as he didn't tell Akane where he got the ideas. It was a pity, really. Ranma was certain that Akane and Ukyou could have been really good friends, if only things had been different.

     Yes, it was definitely time to pay Ucchan a visit.

     Ranma's train of thought was derailed, as Akane caught sight of him.

     "Where in the hell do you think you're going?"

     "OUT."

     "You're going to the Ucchan again, aren't you?"

     "What if I am?"

     "I don't want you to! I don't like it when you go to see Ukyou!"

     "But Akane! Why? Ucchan is my best friend!"

     "Yah, sure! She's the 'best friend' who tried to kill me!"

     "No, she didn't! Those little flashbombs of hers were harmless. They didn't even make as much noise as Shampoo's nikuman!"

     "Well, she certainly tried to ruin our wedding!"

     "And she apologized for that! She was even my best man when we did get married!"

     "Ha! You're the only pervert that I know who would choose a girl to be your best MAN."

     Ranma clenched his fists in frustration. Why was Akane doing this? A dozen angry replies raced through his mind, each more acerbic and sarcastic than the last, but, mindful of his promise to his mother, he bit them all back. Instead, he just glared at his wife and fought to keep the hurt from making him say something that he would regret later.

     "I'll see you later," he snarled as he turned and walked out of the room.

     "Ranma! Don't you dare walk out on me! I'm not done with you yet!"

     Ranma paused for a moment, his back ramrod straight. Mentally, he ran through a series of exercises that were designed to reduce stress and, once he was sure that he was in control again, he resumed his stalk out the door and out of the house. He did not look back. Akane's angry shouting followed him down the street.

     "Dammit, Ranma, I'd better not find out that you've been seeing her again!"

     Ranma kept walking.

     Friend. Ukyou was just his friend, he had said. Nothing more. But how could Akane be sure? For over a year, that friend had done her best to take Ranma away. She had failed, hadn't she? Akane wasn't so sure.

     When Ranma got home that night, Akane was waiting to tear into him. "And just where have you been? Out on another date with Ukyou, no doubt!"

     "No," said Ranma. "I wasn't." He started up the stairs. "I'm going to bed."

     As Ranma entered the bedroom, Akane was right behind him. "Are you telling me that you didn't go to the Ucchan today?"

     "I didn't say that. I said that I hadn't been out on a 'date' with her. Let alone 'another' date."

     "Yeah? Well, what would you call it when she brought you home the other night? At five in the morning, no less!"

     "I'd call it very nice of her," Ranma said. "I'd never have made it home at all, otherwise."

     Akane harumphed. "So what did you do then?"

     "Ucchan's was really busy today, so I made a few delivery runs for her. She needed the help, and I wanted the exercise."

     "Oh, is that what you're calling it now..."

     "Akane, don't. It's not like that!" Ranma took her hand in his. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I..."

     Snatching her hand away, Akane snapped, "Don't touch me, you philanderer... don't you ever touch me like that again!"

     Ranma looked as if she'd struck him. He backed slowly away from her, his expression darkening, hardening as he hastily rebuilt his defences. "Fine. If that's what you want."

     Ranma snatched a pillow and a blanket. "I," he said tightly, "will be on the roof." He strode through the door, pulling it closed after him with exaggerated care. There was a decisive 'click,' and he was gone.

     Swearing under her breath, Akane got ready for sleep. The bed felt wrong though. As a place where so many of their early arguments had been resolved, the void at her side reminded her of just how many arguments they had been having lately -- and just how few resolutions. What had once promised to be warm and inviting was now desolate and cold.

     Akane spent the night tossing and turning, sleeping fitfully at best. Images of Ranma poured through her dreams, memories that she treasured for their warmth and yet also managed to intensify her sense of loss:

     Ranma, perched on the fence by the canal, trying in his own way to tell her that she was cute, after Ryouga had cut her hair...

     Ranma, confronting Sanzenin Mikado and declaring for all the world to hear that she was his fiancee... and his refusal to let her go in that dreadful spin...

     Ranma after he, Ryouga, and Mousse had returned from the battle with Herb, and the Musk... The tender look in his eyes as he had hugged her... really hugged her for the first time...

     Ranma on Togenkyou, using the last of his strength to destroy the spring and his own cure... to save her.

     Ranma on the plateau at Jyusendou -- his tortured scream echoing through the mountains when he had thought her dead...

     Ranma in his tuxedo at the wedding, looking nervous and scared, but with a light in his eyes that had warmed her heart...

     Ranma as a girl on the beach at the ryoukan where they had spent their honeymoon -- laughing and free, reveling in the wind and the surf as the two of them ran until they had collapsed in a heap...

     Ranma hunched over the edge of the veranda, heaving as he threw up the special dinner that she had worked so hard to prepare...

     Ranma finally telling her that he loved her -- and then walking dejectedly into the rain...

     Ranma stalking out of the house as she had been shouting at him, forbidding him to see his friend.

     Akane awoke with a start as the slam of the door in her dream echoed through her mind. There was a flash of lightning outside the window, and another peal of thunder shook the house. The clock on the desk said it was six in the morning, but it was so dark out that it might as well have been the middle of the night. Rain was coming down in sheets, and from the look of the garden pond, it had been for most of the night.

     Akane dressed slowly and headed downstairs for breakfast. Ranma was already there, in girl form, eating rice and miso soup. For once, she was eating in a civilized manner. Akane had long wished that Ranma would learn proper table manners, but faced with the reality, it was somehow chilling. As if on cue, Ranma cut loose with a sneeze and a shiver.

     Remembering Ranma's words from the night before, Akane's eyes widened. "You were on the roof the whole night? In the rain? Baka!"

     Ranma just gave her a look.

     Akane's temper started to rise. "Damn you and your male pride! What is it with you anyway? Why? Why won't you ever tell me what you're feeling?"

     Ranma shook her head wearily. "What'd be the point? I tried -- but it didn't help... you didn't believe me."

     "That's not fair!"

     "Maybe not. But it works both ways, you know. What about you? Tell me what you are feeling right now."

     "Angry! I'm feeling angry!"

     "Is that all?"

     "YES, dammit!"

     Ranma almost smiled, though the tone of her voice carried a sadness that was all but tangible in its intensity.

     "Is there nothing more?" she asked. "No regret, that we spend so much of our time arguing? No frustration, that neither of us will let the other get close? No fear, that it will never change -- that it will always be like this? No despair, at the thought of the pain that could be avoided if only your stubborn husband would admit his true feelings?"

     The redhead got up, yawned and stretched. "I'm going to take a good, hot soak." Gathering her breakfast dishes, she headed for the kitchen to give them to Kasumi on her way to the bath.

     Akane watched Ranma go in a state of shock. He'd done it to her again. Again he had opened up to her -- shown her exactly what she had wanted to see -- what she had ached to see. And again, she had spoiled it. Akane didn't know if she wanted to cry or to scream.

     Ranma had been right about every single thing that she had been feeling -- feelings to which she could never confess now. Not after having denied them so stoutly. She hated him when he did that. It made her feel so inadequate -- so... weak. It just wasn't FAIR.

     "Shit," Akane said to no one in particular.

     It was a quiet afternoon in the Ucchan. Ranma and Ukyou had the restaurant to themselves at the moment. Ranma was watching as Ukyou worked at the grill, spatulas flying.

     "Here Ran-chan -- give this a try and tell me what you think."

     Ukyou passed a plate across the counter. Ranma took the plate, sniffed at it, and smiled. "Smells good, Ucchan! What is it?"

     "New recipe -- I'm experimenting a bit. So, go on, try it!"

     Ranma popped a bite into his mouth, chewed carefully, and swallowed. The rest of Ukyou's experimental okonomiyaki disappeared in a single gulp. Ukyou grinned. "Right. It passes the Ran-chan test..."

     Ranma nodded enthusiastically and held the plate out for more. Ukyou was pouring the batter on the grill when the front doors to the Ucchan exploded off their hinges. Instantly, Ukyou had her combat spatula in her hands, and Ranma had dropped into a crouch. Konatsu appeared from the back room, also at the ready.

     Akane stood in the doorway, seething.

     "What the hell did you do that for?" cried Ukyou.

     Akane ignored the okonomiyaki cook and glared at her husband. "Go. Home. Now." she said.

     Ranma looked toward Ukyou. She smiled at him and shrugged. He gave her an apologetic look and moved toward the door. Pausing on the threshold, he waited for his wife to follow.

     "Go on."

     "It's okay, Ran-chan."

     Ranma left the little restaurant, but he did not appear to be happy about it. Once he had gone, the tension built like a static charge. The air all but crackled with the power of barely controlled emotions.

     Turning on Ukyou, Akane snarled. "Stay the hell away from him. Ranma belongs to me.

     "He's your husband, not some kind of pet, Akane. You don't own him."

     "That's right. He's my husband. Don't you ever forget that."

     "Oh, I won't. But he's also my friend." Ukyou glared at her nemesis. "I'm not going to abandon a friend, just because you say so."

     "We've fought over Ranma before. I won. You lost. I don't have to be nice to you anymore. So stay away from him, or you're going to get hurt."

     "A challenge, eh? You come into my restaurant; you threaten me; you harass one of my regular customers -- give me just one good reason that I shouldn't put you in hospital right now!"

     "Because then Ranma would hate you, wouldn't he?" said Akane nastily.

     Ukyou tightened her grip on the handle of her combat spatula. "Push me any farther, and I just might take that chance. Now. Get. Out. Ran-chan is always welcome here -- but until you can learn some manners, you are not.

     Akane glared at Ukyou for a moment longer, eyes flashing. Then, with a contemptuous toss of her head, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the little restaurant.

     Ukyou watched her go, torn between the desire to rip Akane's head off and the fear that Ranma really would hate her if they had fought. After a few moments and several deep breathing exercises, she was able to calm herself somewhat. She turned toward Konatsu.

     "Get a crew in here to fix that door," she said. "You know where to send the bill. Address it to Nabiki." Konatsu turned to do as he was asked, and Ukyou once more regarded the shattered door. "One of these days," she muttered, "that girl is going to go too far."

     P-chan sat on the veranda of the Tendou home, staring into space, trying to sort out his feelings. He had come, recently, to some very unsettling conclusions.

     He didn't love Akane anymore. He liked her. He respected her. But he didn't love her. The thought troubled him. She had been the focus of every waking thought and of every dream for a very long time. His entire reason for living had been to make her happy -- to love her and care for her. Even if iit had to be as nothing more than her pet pig, he had been committed to her happiness.

     He was not quite sure when or how he had come to the realisation, but the conclusion was inescapable. Perhaps it had begun when he'd met Akari. Akari even knew about his curse, and still she loved him. In an odd way, he had Ranma to thank for that. It had been Ranma that had fought so hard to bring the two of them together. Between his own sensitivity to his curse, and Akari's devotion to all things porcine, it had been a hard fight.

     Perhaps it had started when Ranma and Akane had finally gotten married. He had always known, deep down, that it was Ranma that Akane loved. As her pet, he had been privileged to share her innermost secrets -- her hopes, her dreams, her joys and her sorrows. At the heart of them all was Ranma. She was forever beyond his reach.

     And so, he had contented himself with being her pet, and her friend, on those occasions when 'Ryouga' could manage to find the dojo. He was willing to accept that fate, if it meant that Akane would be happy.

     But Akane did not stay happy. For the first few weeks after she and Ranma were married, she had been almost delirious with joy. Not that she let Ranma know it, but P-chan knew and was happy for her, even as his own heart broke.

     As time passed, Akane started to get angry again; mostly at Ranma. She still loved him, of that P-chan was certain. However, nothing that Ranma could do would please her. Obviously it was all Ranma's fault -- Ranma's ability to put his foot in his mouth was second only to his skill as a martial artist. Lately, though, Ryouga was not so sure.

     He was beginning to see a much darker side to Akane... a side that he had never really noticed before, blinded as he had been by his own anger with Saotome. Akane was kind and loving, but beneath that surface there was steel -- steel with a hard temper. Brittle and cold, that steel lent Akane's anger a sharp cutting edge. It frightened him.

     The pig stiffened as his senses alerted him to approaching footsteps. It was too late to run. He turned to see Ranma coming toward him along the veranda. Ranma did not look very happy. Ryouga's fight or flight reflex locked up, and he froze.

     But Ranma didn't attack. The only sign that Ranma had even noticed him had been a listless wave and a mumbled, "Hey, Ryouga. How's it goin'..." as he walked past. Ryouga watched him go. Ranma had not been himself lately, and the pig found it disturbing. Depression had been his territory -- not Ranma's.

     Ryouga let out a startled "Buki!" as he felt strong hands lift him from the ground. A panicked instant later, he realized that it was Akane. He had been dreading this moment. He struggled to maintain his resolve. He had made his decision -- it was the right decision, and he had to stand by it. No matter how much it tore his heart to do so.

     "P-chan! Where have you been? I've been so worried about you!" She turned the pig around, kissed him on the nose, and hugged him tight. He squealed softly as the air left his lungs. Akane loosened her grip and started petting him. "At least I can always count on you, can't I?"

     Guilt washed through Ryouga. Oh, Akane, he thought. I'm so sorry. But I can't stay with you any more. You don't need me, and I need to move on. I can't stay sane like this. Maybe one day, you'll be able to forgive me... Tears streamed from the little pig's eyes.

     "P-chan! You're crying! What's the matter? Don't be upset, baby, everything's going to be all right. You'll see!" Akane's expression darkened. "I'll bet it was Ranma, wasn't it? That big bully's been picking on you again, hasn't he? Well, don't you worry. Mommy will take care of him!"

     NO, Ryouga wanted to scream. Ranma didn't do anything! But of course, pigs can't talk. Akane interpreted her pet's frantic 'bwees' as confirmation of her suspicions, and a wave of anger poured through her. Her grip on P-chan tightened ever so slightly. Oh, no, thought the pig.

     Tucking her pet into the crook of her arm, Akane stormed off in search of her husband. She found him meditating in the dojo, sitting in lotus position, his eyes closed. If he was aware of his wife's arrival, he gave no sign.

     "RANMA!" Akane set P-chan down and stalked toward the silent figure. Ryouga watched, transfixed as Akane reached her target and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet. "RANMA!" she cried again.

     Ranma blinked, evidently surprised and more than a little confused. "What is it this time?" he asked her. There was a weariness in his voice that suggested that the question was little more than rhetorical.

     "Just what have you been doing to poor P-chan?"

     Ranma blinked again. "P-chan? I haven't done anything to him."

     "Don't lie to me!" Akane shook Ranma by his collar. "How would you like it if somebody was always picking on you?" She let go of his shirt and drew back her fist.

     Ranma barely had time to bring his arms up to block before Akane was pummeling him for all she was worth. Ranma had the advantages of strength and speed, but Akane was driven and gradually began to wear him down.

     "Akane! What are you doing? Why are you so mad?" Ranma was slowly trying to back away, but Akane was not letting him escape. "What did I do this time?"

     Finally, one of Akane's blows got through Ranma's defence. P-chan winced as her fist connected. Ranma just grunted and kept trying to block her attack, until another blow got through. The second punch dazed Ranma and he fell back, dropping his arms and his defences for a moment. A moment was all it took. Akane moved in to the opening with a vengeance, as blow after blow connected with Ranma's head.

     Ryouga couldn't stand to watch anymore. With terrified squeal, the little pig turned and ran from the dojo as fast as his little legs would carry him. He had long wanted to send Ranma to hell, but this was too much, even for his hated rival.

     Hearing P-chan's distressed cry, Akane dropped her attack on Ranma and turned to see her pet streaking for the door. "P-chan!" she cried. "Wait! Don't run! He's not going to hurt you anymore!" With a last kick towards her dazed husband, Akane was off in pursuit. But by the time she got into the yard, the little black pig was nowhere to be seen. "P-chan! Come back! Where did you go?" Akane cried.

     Ryouga watched from under a bush as Akane searched. Finally, she gave up and headed dejectedly into the house. He felt his resolve waver at the slump of her shoulders, the air of defeat that hung over her. He hated to cause her such pain.

     But it would be worse for her if he stayed. He had to go. It would be easier this way, in the long run. Eventually, she'd get over the loss of her pet. Goodbye, Akane, he thought to himself. I hope that you'll finally find the peace, and the happiness that you deserve. Ryouga turned his back on the Tendou home and started walking.

     Akane took the disappearance of her pet badly. For several days after P-chan had run off, she circulated flyers with his description and offered a modest reward for information leading to his return. She also made regular checks with all of the regional offices for animal control. Results had been negative.

     Ranma was annoyed with the whole thing but said nothing about it. Still, he could do little to hide his irritation from his wife, and Akane was not pleased. A little over a week after P-chan had vanished, Akane had evidently had enough.

     "Ranma, will you stop sulking and help me find P-chan?"

     "Who's sulking?"

     "You are! I can't believe that you're still jealous of a pig!"

     "I am not jealous of that pig! I just don't like him sleeping with you! It's just not right!"

     "He's just a little pig. It's not like he's a pervert like you! You're anthropomorphising again! How can you be so clueless?"

     Ranma gaped at his wife. Images of the times Ryouga should have been caught but wasn't flashed through Ranma's mind. He almost laughed. "I guess it's just my way. You know I'm totally oblivious."

     Akane glared at her husband. There had been a suspiciously sassy note to his voice. It set her teeth on edge. "You've never liked my little P-chan! All you've ever done is pick on him! It's your fault that he ran away! The least you could do is help me find him!"

     "For the last time, Akane, I didn't do anything to the pig!"

     "Then where is he, eh?"

     "How the heck should I know?"

     "See! If you actually cared..." *Ring* "...dammit, wait here. I'll finish with you in a minute." Akane left the room to answer the phone. After a few moments she came back into the room and plopped down by the table. She looked badly shaken.

     "Akane! What's wrong? Who was that?"

     Akane looked up, tears filling her eyes. "That," she said slowly, "was the Animal Control Office in Tomobiki Cho. They've found the body," she choked back a sob, "of a little black piglet. It had been hit by a car. They think it might be P-chan." Akane's control shattered, and she started sobbing uncontrollably.

     Ranma paled. Had Ryouga really been killed by a car? Ranma felt a little sick. Despite their fights, Ranma had always thought of Ryouga as a friend. At least they understood one another. To Ranma, that counted for a lot.

     Ranma looked over at Akane. He hated to see her cry. He hated to see her unhappy. "Maybe it wasn't him, Akane."

     Akane looked up through tear-swollen eyes. "Of course it was him! How many black piglets have you seen in Nerima? It had to have been him!"

     "You don't know that. You can't know that, until you check! P-chan is pretty smart for a pig you know... I can't really believe that he'd let a car get him." Ranma reached out and put a hand gently on Akane's shoulder. "C'mon, Akane. Let's go make sure, okay?"

     "You're just saying that 'cause you know that it's your fault," Akane sobbed. "You chased him off, and now he's... he's..." She pulled out of Ranma's reach and cried harder.

     "Akane, don't do this to yourself. Please. You have to be sure!" And so do I, thought Ranma darkly. If it is him, someone will have to find a way to tell his parents. He stood up and went to get a light jacket for Akane. "Here, put this on. Tomobiki isn't that far -- we can go and see for ourselves, okay?"

     Finally, Akane nodded. She took the jacket, and she and Ranma left the house and walked to the bus stop. The trip to Tomobiki was made in silence -- both Saotomes lost in their own private worlds. Ranma longed to be able to comfort his wife, but she was still sure that her pet was dead, and that Ranma was somehow responsible. Ranma just hoped that she was wrong.

     Once they arrived at the Animal Control office, they were led into a small room and asked to wait. After a time, an attendant came into the room pushing a small cart, the top of which was draped with a sheet. Carefully, the attendant pulled the sheet back. Under it was indeed a small black piglet.

     Akane gasped and started to sob. Ranma felt a little green, but he had to know for sure. Carefully, he turned the body over, looking for anything that might reveal the pig's identity. After several moments he sat back down and sighed in relief. He turned to his distraught wife.

     "It isn't him, Akane. It's not P-chan."

     "Yes it is!" she cried. "It looks just like him!"

     "Akane, it's not! Really!"

     "Then prove it!"

     "Well, for one thing, it's not wearing P-chan's bandanna..."

     "That doesn't prove anything! He could have lost that!"

     Not bloody likely, Ranma thought, he had thousands of 'em. "AND," he continued deliberately, "This pig is a female. P-chan was a BOY." Ranma put a bit of stress on the word 'boy,' but Akane didn't notice. "It's okay, Akane. It's not P-chan, I promise it isn't."

     "Really?" Akane sniffed. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

     An expression of pain flashed across Ranma's face, followed by resignation. "No, Akane, I wouldn't lie to you about this. Check for yourself, if you like. This is a girl-pig, and P-chan was definitely a boy."

     Akane looked uncertain for a moment and glanced toward the attendant. "Your husband is right, miss..." the attendant said kindly. "This pig is definitely a female."

     "Oh, thank God," Akane sobbed. Ranma reached out to comfort her and this time, she accepted. Resting her head on his shoulder, she let the relief wash over her until she felt like she was ready to make the trip back to the dojo. Ranma held her and savored the moment. He would always be there for her, if only she'd let him.

     The next morning, at the breakfast table, Akane was back in worry mode. She had been surprised by Ranma's understanding the night before -- he had never seemed to care about P-chan that much. But it had been... nice.

     "Ranma, will you make the rounds of the shelters today and see if you can find P-chan?"

     "Aw, Akane... I had stuff I wanted to do..."

     "Ranma! Please! Something terrible might happen to him! He's just a defenceless little pig!"

     "Okay! Okay! I'll look for him! Geez! What are you so worked up about, anyway? P-chan's gone missing for weeks at a time before -- he's always gotten back eventually."

     Akane started to boil over. So. It had all been an act. Ranma didn't really care about P-chan at all. "Don't you have any feelings, Ranma? It's probably your fault anyway -- you're always picking on the poor thing. Only you could be low enough to make a pig cry!"

     Ranma almost dropped his chopsticks. "P-chan was crying?" He sounded shocked.

     Akane took Ranma's amazement as evidence of his guilt. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know something about P-chan that you're not telling me, don't you? Don't you?"

     Ranma looked liked a trapped animal. He could not -- WOULD not lie to his wife -- but neither could he break his word to Ryouga. "I... I..." he stammered as his brain searched desperately for a way out -- any way out of the trap he was in.

     "I knew it!" Akane stormed. She grabbed Ranma by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Where is he? What have you done with P- chan?!"

     Those questions, at least, Ranma could answer. Unfortunately, "I got no idea where that pig is!" and "I didn't do anything to him!" were not the answers that Akane wanted to hear, nor were they answers that she was going to believe. At least, not until she had applied a little 'persuasion.'

     Ukyou was just finishing with the lunch crowd when Ranma came into the little restaurant. He smiled and waved at her as he took a seat at the far end of the counter. Ukyou waved back and returned her attention to the customer she was serving. After filling his order, she bounded down to where Ranma was waiting.

     Ranma was wearing one of his trademark Chinese style shirts, but for once he had the sleeves turned down to their full length. That seemed a little odd to Ukyou, considering the weather, but she let it slide. She smiled and started to ask him what he would like to eat.

     The smile froze on Ukyou's face as Ranma looked up at her. His left eye was covered with a huge purple bruise, swollen so that he could barely open it. It looked like it hurt a lot.

     "Whoa... Ran-chan... Where'd you get the shiner?"

     Ranma grimaced. "It's nothing, Ucchan, really." Gingerly he felt the side of his head and gave her a sheepish grin. "I just... ahh... tripped. Hit my head."

     Ukyou blinked. "Tripped?! You tripped and did that? I find that a bit hard to believe, Ran-chan." She leaned forward to examine his eye more carefully. "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone popped you a good one. But there's no one around here that's good enough to have done it. No one that could get past your defences like that..." Ukyou trailed into silence as a nasty suspicion began to form in her mind. Unless maybe...

     "Really, Ucchan, it's nothing." Ranma seemed uncharacteristically nervous; his expression was almost fearful.

     Ukyou's eyes narrowed a bit as she started to make one of her special okonomiyaki for him. As she cooked it, her attention wandered back to Ranma's arms. It was hot outside today. Now why would he be wearing long sleeves? She did not like the feel of this... did not like it one bit.

     Whatever else may have been bothering Ranma, there was nothing at all wrong with his appetite. He devoured the okonomiyaki that she prepared for him in a flash, and the second followed in short order. As he finished it he sat back and smiled at her. "Thanks, Ucchan. That was delicious!"

     Ukyou smiled back, but her smile did not reach her eyes. There was something wrong here, and she did not like the directions that her thoughts were taking. Something about Ranma's cheerful attitude just rang false. It was like he was trying too hard. Ukyou decided to play on a hunch.

     "I'm glad you liked it, Ran-chan! So tell me, how did you get all those bruises on your arms?"

     Ranma froze. "Bruises? What bruises?" There was panic in his eyes. Almost unconsciously, he tugged his cuffs down over his wrists.

     Ukyou winced at his reaction. She had been hoping that she would have been wrong. "Ranma... What's going on? Are things... okay... between you and Akane?"

     "Nothing! There's nothing going on!" he snarled. "Why do you keep asking me these questions?"

     Ukyou looked at him wide-eyed. Ranma had never snapped at her like that before. The hurt must have shown on her face, because Ranma seemed to wilt as he looked at her.

     "I'm sorry, Ucchan..." He stood up slowly. "I shouldn't have barked at you like that. Please... please forgive me..." He started toward the door. "I'd better be going... thanks for the food..."

     "Ranma, wait!"

     He paused, and turned to look at her.

     "Ran-chan, please! Let me help! I'm your friend, remember?"

     Ranma smiled a bit. "I remember, Ucchan; and thanks. But it's okay. Really it is." With that, he was gone.

     She looked after him for a time, before turning back to her grill, muttering as she did so. "No, it's not okay, Ran-chan. Not by a long shot it's not."

     Ukyou spent the rest of the day cooking okonomiyaki with savage efficiency. She was operating largely on automatic as in her mind's eye she replayed Ranma's visit over and over. All the signs were there, but she was loathe to believe them. This was Ranma Saotome! The best martial artist in Japan, maybe even the world. To think that he might be... it was absurd! But the evidence, while not totally conclusive, left little else as a viable interpretation.

     Finally, the last customer left the shop, and Ukyou closed up for the night. Once the doors were locked and the griddle had been cleaned, she went upstairs to her room to think, leaving Konatsu to straighten the dining area.

     Ranma and Akane had been fighting since before she had come to Nerima. There had been no secrets there. Indeed, it had been one of the things that had led her to believe that she could win Ranma's heart after all -- but it hadn't worked that way. Ranma had loved Akane despite the fights and the bickering.

     There had been plenty of fights. It seemed that Akane was always mad at him about something -- usually relating to his other fiancees. It had been almost comical back then -- Ukyou had even started thinking of Akane as 'mallet girl' because of the way she was always hammering poor Ranma. She had never taken it seriously -- after all, Ranma never seemed to mind iit too much, and he never seemed to be seriously hurt. Over time, she had come to regard it as almost normal.

     The Tendou girl had always been something of a mystery. Ukyou had never really understood just what had drawn Ranma to her. Sure, she was cute, but Shampoo was proof that cute wasn't enough to hold Ranma's attention.

     Understandably, Ukyou and Akane had never really become friends. They were, after all, rivals. A truce of sorts had evolved and, for the most part, they had tolerated one another. But that was as far as it went. In a way, Ukyou had been glad when Ranma and Akane had married. She had hoped that it would put an end to the tension that had existed between all of them -- between Ranma and Akane, and between Akane and herself.

     Again, it hadn't worked that way. It had looked as though it might, for the first few months of their marriage; but Akane had grown distant again, keeping to herself most of the time. Old patterns reasserted themselves as Ranma and Akane fell back into the habits that had evolved during their turbulent courtship.

     But this time, something was different.

     She had not seen the bruises on his arms, but she knew they were there. His reaction had proven that. As fast as Ranma healed, the force that would have been required to cause such persistent bruising was considerable. It would also have to be applied on a regular basis. Coupled with the black eye that he had been sporting, the conclusions that she was reaching were not at all pretty.

     If what she suspected was true... how was she going to find out? Ranma would never volunteer the information -- and it wasn't like she could just go and ask Akane... This had to be handled delicately.

     Reaching into a desk drawer, Ukyou took out a small spiral notebook. She had a small stash that she normally used for tracking her supply orders for the Ucchan. Opening to the first page, Ukyou wrote the date, and the time that Ranma had come in, as best she could remember. Then she wrote a brief description of Ranma's condition, starting with his eye, and ending with her speculations about the bruises on his arms and the evidence she had to support those guesses.

     Reading over the entry, she nodded to herself. This would help. If she could prove that there was a pattern, she might be able to convince Ranma that he needed to get help. Sighing, Ukyou put the notebook away and got ready for bed. She still hoped that she might be wrong, but she didn't think so. She just couldn't believe that it was happening to Ranma.

     That night was the first of many that Ukyou would cry herself to sleep.

     Ukyou was nervous. After three months of careful note taking, she had finally decided that she had enough data to prove to Ranma that there was a problem. She had spent the last week working up the courage to do something about it. This was going to be difficult; the future of her relationship with Ranma would hinge on the events of this evening. If she could not convince him -- if she could not get him to accept the fact that he needed help, she would very likely drive him away from her completely.

     The very possibility that she might lose him altogether was like a lump in the pit of her stomach, dense and heavy. But she had no choice. She could not simply stand aside and watch as her friend, as the man she loved, was torn apart. She had to at least try. If she succeeded, then Ranma could be happy again. If she tried and failed, she would at least know that she had done all she could.

     By the time Ranma was supposed to arrive at the Ucchan that night, Ukyou had everything ready. The little restaurant was closed to the public -- the notices she'd posted for the past week mentioned a family holiday, and her regulars had all been good sports about it. Konatsu was waiting by the door to let Ranma in while Ukyou stood behind the grill, fidgeting with her spatulas. The minutes raced by like hours as the appointed time approached.

     By the time Ranma was five minutes overdue, Ukyou was starting to climb the walls. With every minute that he was late, Ukyou was sure that he would not come. That Akane would not let him out of the house. That something terrible had happened to him. Every sound from outside had her whirling towards the door to see if it was Ranma. She tried to force herself to be calmer -- to still the trembling of her fingers and the quaver in her voice.

     So wrapped up in her meditations was she that when Ranma did come in a few minutes later, it was all Ukyou could do to keep from jumping out of her skin. "Ran-chan! Thank god!"

     Ranma seemed a touch taken aback by the vehemence of Ukyou's greeting, but he recovered quickly enough. As he was taking a seat, Konatsu gathered up a duffel bag and left the shop, locking the door behind him. Ranma watched him go curiously.

     Sensing the question that Ranma was about to ask, Ukyou said, "He's going to spend the night at a friend's house. He's got a line on a second job that's more... in his field."

     "You mean as a ninja?" Ranma asked.

     Ukyou nodded as she started to prepare the first batch of her Ran-chan specials. Ranma turned back to watch his friend as she worked her magic on the grill. Within moments, two fresh, hot okonomiyaki were staring up at him from his plate. Ranma moved in for the kill.

     Ukyou smiled to herself as she watched Ranma eat. At least there were some things that never changed. Her expression sobered once more as she considered her purpose in asking Ranma to come -- she still had no idea how she was goingg to broach the topic that she wanted to discuss.

     "What's the matter, Ucchan? You seem... I dunno, distracted, I guess."

     Ukyou started. Well, an opening was an opening after all. She took a deep breath and said, "Some of my regular customers have been having sort of a rough time lately. It's been getting me down. It's kind of frustrating, not being able to help."

     "Anyone that I know?"

     Damn, Ukyou thought sadly to herself. It's no wonder that subtlety never worked on you, Ran-chan. "Yah, I think that you might know one or two of them. One you've seen in here before, I'm sure. Her name is Miyuki. Manabe Miyuki."

     "Manabe... no... wait a minute... slender girl... brunette... wears her hair in a really long braid? The one who likes cars?"

     "Yes, that's the one."

     "So why can't you help her?"

     "Actually, she's getting help. I'm a lot more worried about the other one, though their problems are similar."

     "Hmmm. Sounds like maybe you need to introduce the two, if their troubles are so much alike."

     "I had hoped to do just that. But there's a problem."

     "There always is," said Ranma knowingly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

     Ukyou looked at Ranma carefully. This was going to be the hard part. She had to play her cards just so or the fight was lost before it started. "Well, okay. But you have to make me a promise, Ranma."

     Ranma was a little startled by that, but this was Ukyou -- she was his best friend, and if he could help her, in any way, it was his duty. "Of course, Ucchan."

     "You have to promise me that you will hear me out -- you must listen to everything that I have to say tonight."

     "Is that all?"

     "It won't be that easy, Ranma. Now, give me your word."

     Ranma looked up at Ukyou solemnly. "I swear, Ucchan. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. So what is the 'problem' that you were talking about? What's stopping you from helping this friend of yours?"

     "He won't let me." said Ukyou simply. Her gaze was level, betraying nothing.

     "He won't... won't let you? Why not?"

     "I'm not entirely sure that he realizes the depth of his problem. I've never gotten a chance to talk to him about it, really. Whenever I get close to the issue, he leaves."

     "Sounds like a stubborn fellow," said Ranma, as something about her last statement was nagging at his subconscious. He had the distinct impression that he had walked into a trap but. for the life of him, he couldn't see it. Shrugging mentally, Ranma took the plunge. "And just what is his problem?"

     Ukyou's eyes locked with his for a moment before she answered. "He is being abused. His wife is beating the tar out of him on a regular basis. She's almost killed him once, and he's too stubborn to admit it or to get help."

     Ranma's eyes opened wide as the connections were made, and the trap was sprung. "You... you think that Akane... me... You tricked me." Ranma started to rise.

     "Sit down!" Ukyou's tone was firm. "You promised that you'd hear what I had to say!"

     "But..."

     "No 'buts', dammit!" Ukyou slammed a small notebook onto the counter in front of Ranma. "Read it!" she commanded.

     "What is this?" Ranma asked, eyeing the notebook. He was obviously angry, but he sat back down.

     "It's a catalogue, Ranma. A list of all the injuries that you've had when you've come into this shop over the past three months. Ever since you walked in here with that black eye that you got when you 'tripped.' Go on, READ it! Or would you prefer that I read it to you? I have the whole damned thing memorized."

     Ranma was shocked at the bitterness in Ukyou's tone. "What are you so mad about, Ucchan!?"

     "You idiot! I gave up my life's dream -- because you loved her. And now she's tearing you apart! She's beating the life out of you, and you just take it! You won't do anything to stop it!" There were tears in Ukyou's eyes. "That wasn't part of the bargain! When was the last time that you really smiled? Do you even remember it? You were supposed to be happy together!"

     "Ucchan..." Ranma was gaping at his friend. "It's not like that!"

     "Do you think that I can't see?" She slid the notebook toward him. "READ it!" she commanded him again. "There's a pattern there, Ran-chan. And what's scaring me now is that it's getting worse! She's hurting you more every time!"

     Ranma made no move to take the little book.

     "Fine! I know every line in there by heart! Three months ago it was just a black eye and some bruising. Two months ago you had what you called a twisted ankle, and multiple sprains. Six weeks ago, you couldn't even bend your right knee, and your left arm was in a sling! Last month you had at least two cracked ribs, judging from the way that you were breathing. Two weeks ago, you were in here dizzy, disoriented, and just about ready to puke your guts out. Right NOW, looking at your eyes, I'd bet every yen I have that Tofu-Sensei would tell you that you had a concussion! And you've had those bruises on your arms the whole damn time!"

     "No! That's not true!"

     "Then prove it! Roll up those sleeves, and show me that I'm wrong!"

     "Ucchan..."

     "Dammit, Ranma! Do I look stupid? Don't lie to me! You're not very good at it."

     Ranma froze, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. He twitched, and Ukyou was afraid that he was going to bolt and run. She could not let that happen. In a much softer voice, she said, "Ranma... please..." She longed to be able to reach out to him, but she dared not. This was her one chance; there would likely be no other. "I'm your friend. Let me help."

     An eternity passed -- the silence was absolute. Ukyou could feel her lungs beginning to strain against the breath she was holding. Would Ranma run -- or would he answer her? Would he be able to admit that there was a problem? Would he trust her enough to let her help? Then suddenly, Ranma was collapsing, and she was hopping over the counter and catching him, hugging him to her as she gasped her relief.

     Ukyou hugged Ranma as months of repressed pain and frustration were finally allowed to break free. It was as close as he would ever come to crying in his male form. Ukyou, on the other hand, had no problems with crying, and the tears were flowing freely from her eyes.

     "What's wrong with me, Ucchan? I love her so much that it hurts -- and I just can't seem to avoid making her angry! One minute she's all sweet and nice, and the next minute she's pounding me into the floor, and I don't even know what I've done to set her off!"

     "There's nothing wrong with you, Ran-chan. You have to believe that."

     "Then why can't I make her smile anymore? Why is she always so angry? Why is she always hitting me?"

     "I don't know, Ranma, but there has to be some cause, some reason behind it. Just," she added, "not a good one."

     Ranma shook his head sadly. "But if I can't figure out what I'm doing to cause this, then how can I fix it?"

     "Hey, whoa there, Ran-chan!" Ukyou looked Ranma in the eyes. "It may not be anything that you are doing! It may have nothing to do with you! You can't just assume that it's your fault!"

     "Can't I?" The despair in Ranma's voice cut through Ukyou like a razor. "Everyone else thinks that it's my fault... Kasumi, Tofu-Sensei, Pop, even Mom thinks so."

     "I don't."

     "Thanks, Ucchan... that means a lot to me." Ranma grimaced. "But I don't think that I can use that to convince Akane."

     "No, I suppose not. Still, it can't go on like this. I know how you feel about Akane, but this isn't healthy. You have to do something."

     "But what? I've tried everything I know. I've gotten ideas from you, from Mom, from Tofu-Sensei; nothing seems to work -- at least not for very long." Ranma spread his arms. "I'm fresh out of ideas."

     Ukyou smiled. "Well, you're not alone, you know. There are others out there with similar problems. There are answers out there, and I think that I have an idea where we can get some help in finding some of those answers."

     That surprised Ranma. "Really? Where?"

     "Remember I mentioned Miyuki earlier?"

     "Hey, that's right, you did. You said that their..." Ranma trailed off as the meaning of what Ukyou had said hit him. "You mean... Are you saying that Miyuki's husband is... is beating her?" Ranma was horrified. "But she's so... so nice."

     Ukyou nodded sadly. "Yes. But I also said that she was getting help. Miyuki joined a help group for battered spouses that meets down at the Civic Centre. She likes them a lot."

     Ranma looked skeptical. "But how can that help? Wouldn't it be more effective if I just went over and had a little 'chat' with Miyuki's husband?"

     Ukyou sighed. "Ran-chan... do you think that Akane would be less angry with you -- less likely to hit you -- if I went to the dojo and beat the stuffing out of her?"

     "You wouldn't!"

     "Of course not! But if I did, do you think it would solve the problem? Do you think that it would calm Akane down?"

     "No... I guess you're right. It just galls me to see someone as nice as Miyuki is get treated that way."

     "Believe me, Ran-chan," said Ukyou earnestly, "I know exactly what you mean."

     Ranma gave her an odd look. "So. What is it that you're suggesting?"

     This was it. "I talked to Miyuki, and she told me when her group meets. It'll be on Monday. Monday at six in the evening."

     "So?" Ranma asked, obviously dreading the answer.

     "So," Ukyou said evenly, "I've arranged for us to go."

     "What?!" Ranma yelped. "You planned this! You planned this from the start!"

     Ukyou sighed. "Yes. Yes I did. What else could I do? Akane is tearing you apart, bit by bit. Even with your rapid healing, you're injured more often than not anymore! Something has to be done!"

     "But Akane is my wife... I can't betray her!"

     "No one is asking you to betray anyone! I'm asking you to get help! Get help before it's too late! Before something terrible happens!" Ukyou paused to collect her thoughts. "Look. I know how much you love Akane. And I know how much it hurts you when she treats you like she does. I can see it in your eyes! I just want to see you smile again. I want you to be happy -- I want... I want to know that when I gave you up I did the right thing." It was Ukyou's turn to cry.

     Ranma was a little startled by his friend's outburst. Hesitantly he put his arms around her and hugged. It all sounded like nonsense to him... how could talk solve this problem? But Ukyou seemed to think that it could help -- and Ukyou was his best friend. He trusted her implicitly. For her...

     Ranma took a deep breath. "I hope you know what you're talking about..." he began.

     "Then you'll go?" Ukyou asked, sniffling a bit.

     "I'll go. I promise. I don't know what good it can do, but I don't see how it can hurt either. And I don't know what else I can try."

     Ukyou tried not to let too much of her relief show. "It's a place to start, anyway." She let Ranma go and moved toward the grill again. "How about another round?"

     When Monday night finally came, Ukyou was ready and waiting. For once, Ranma showed up on time.

     "Ready to go, Ran-chan? Or would you like something to eat first?"

     Ranma sat down at the counter and sniffed appreciatively. "Smells like you have a 'special' on the grill right now," he said.

     Ukyou grinned. "I thought that you might like a little something before we went off to the meeting."

     Ranma sobered. "Yah. About these meetings. I'm really not so sure that this is a good idea..."

     Ukyou had been afraid of this. "Look, Ranma. I know that this is not going to be easy for you... but I know that you need help and, to be frank, I don't know where else we could get it."

     "Yes, I know, but..."

     "Ran-chan, if you have any better ideas, I'd certainly like to hear them." There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the gentle sizzle of the okonomiyaki on the grill. "That's what I thought."

     Ukyou flipped the 'special' onto a plate, and passed it to Ranma. "Eat up, Ran-chan. We've got a meeting to get to."

     Ranma poked at the food for a moment, before looking back up at Ukyou. "Are you sure...?"

     "Ranma... you promised. I won't make you go, but if you won't do it for yourself, would you do it for me?"

     Ranma sighed and started in on his okonomiyaki. "Okay, Ucchan. You win. I'll go."

     In room 101 at the Nerima Civic Centre, Miyuki looked at her watch for the dozenth time. Ukyou was late, and the meeting was about to start. She had promised that she would be bringing Ranma tonight. Miyuki had only met Ranma a few times, but he seemed like such a nice person. When Ukyou had told her what was happening to him, she had been appalled. Well, she knew what it was like when the person you loved had... temper problems.

     Miyuki could not even remember how the topic had come up, but she and Ukyou had spent many hours since discussing domestic violence. At first, Ukyou's interest had been mostly academic. But as she had learned more, her suspicions had been aroused about Ranma, and she was learning all she could. Miyuki had been only too glad to help.

     Then, when Miyuki had found this support group, Ukyou had gotten very thoughtful. Miyuki liked these people -- they had helped her tremendously so far. She had a much better understanding of what was happening in her life and what she could do about it. It was a wonderfully liberating feeling. And now she had a chance to pass on that feeling -- to share her good luck. If only Ukyou and Ranma would make it on time!

     Finally, Ukyou walked in, wearing a determined expression, followed closely by Ranma. Their arrival drew a few curious looks and Ranma one or two hostile stares. Ranma looked acutely uncomfortable. Miyuki heaved a sigh of relief and waved them over. She smiled at Ranma. "I'm glad you came," she said. "Come over here. There's someone that I want you to meet."

     Miyuki led the two over to an older woman who was standing by the refreshments table. She was a little shorter than Ranma and looked to be in her mid thirties. Of medium build and reasonably fit, she had thick, straight black hair that fell just past her chin. She wore wire rim glasses with round lenses over bright, piercing eyes. Hers was a face that was used to smiling.

     "Kimiko, these are the people that I mentioned," Miyuki said. "This is Kuonji Ukyou, and this is Saotome Ranma." Turning back to Ranma and Ukyou, she continued the introduction. "This is Takahashi Kimiko. She's the moderator for this group."

     Kimiko smiled and addressed Ukyou. "I trust that Miyuki has told you how this group works?"

     "More or less," Ukyou answered.

     "Well, don't worry too much. It's really easy to fit in here. There won't be any pressure on you -- just sit and listen, if you like. Some of the girls will want to ask you questions -- you can answer them or not; whatever maakes you comfortable. Feel free to ask a question or to jump into the discussion any time you like."

     Kimiko started moving toward the ring of chairs in the center of the room. She clapped twice. "Time, ladies!" she called. While the others moved in, Kimiko led the newbies into the circle and waved them into seats.

     The members of the group all started to gather in the circle of chairs, taking their seats and making last minute grabs from the snacks on the table. As soon as everyone was seated, Kimiko opened the meeting. "Ladies, we have a new member here tonight. I'd like you to meet Miyuki's friend Kuonji Ukyou and her friend Saotome Ranma."

     There were general greetings and good-natured utterances from around the circle, though Ranma was still getting a few suspicious stares. "So, tell us, Ukyou was it? How long have you been having trouble with your husband?"

     "No, no, you've got it backwards!" Ukyou laughed. "I'm not even married! It's Ran-chan here that needs your advice!"

     The room went dead quiet, almost as if Ukyou had thrown a switch. There was a brief clatter as Kimiko's teacup hit the floor. Finally, one woman, a slender girl with short brown hair, broke the silence. "What is this, some kind of joke?"

     "Joke?" Ukyou was confused. "No, no joke. What would make you think a thing like that?"

     "You mean that you expect us to believe," another woman spoke up, her tone openly hostile, "that some woman is beating up on him?"

     "You have got to be kidding us, right?" asked the brown haired woman again.

     Miyuki was scandalized. "Natsumi! She is not kidding!"

     Another group member sneered. "Don't be naive, Miyuki. Can you honestly say that you believe that men get abused by their wives? It just doesn't happen that way."

     Miyuki sounded defensive. "I believe Ukyou! And besides! There are more ways to abuse someone than by hitting them. What's so hard to believe about that?"

     "Because that's not the way the world works!" exploded another -- a redhead. "Look at history! Show me an example where any woman was in a position like that! Men beat on women, not the other way around. Look at him! Can you honestly say that you can imagine a woman that could get away with thumping someone with his muscles?"

     Ukyou could not believe what she was hearing. Did they just not understand? Didn't they have any idea how hard it had been -- how much she'd had to do just to get Raanma to come here? Did they have any idea that they were destroying any chance Ranma had at getting help? She had convinced him to come and get help once -- if this was the response that he was going to get, there would be no chance that she could do it again.

     More than a few hostile glances were directed at Ranma. They did not go unnoticed. Ranma looked like he wanted to be elsewhere -- very badly. Ukyou was sure that the onlly thing that kept him in his seat was the fact that if he moved, he would attract more unwanted attention. She saw him stiffen -- could feel the defences he was building -- could feel the doors closing. That could not be allowed to go unchallenged. Opening those doors had cost too much as it was.

     She gave Ranma an apologetic look and stood up. "Excuse me, but I have a few things that I'd like to say." She paused long enough for some of the muttering to die down. Once she was sure she had the group's attention, she took a deep breath, and started as calmly as she could.

     "It may come as a bit of a shock to you, but there are men in this world that don't beat up on their wives. And there are women who do abuse their husbands."

     "Well, I've never heard of one..." muttered the redhead.

     "You have now," snapped Ukyou. "Are you all so wrapped up in your roles as victims that you can't see past your own noses? A person comes to you for help, but you turn him away because his presence would remind you that women don't always hold the moral high ground..."

     Another redhead, a short girl with her hair drawn back into a long pigtail protested "Look here! You're not being fair!"

     "No, you look here, dammit!" stormed Ukyou as months of angst, frustration, and fury spilled out. "I'M not being fair? Just what is it with you people? You're supposed to be helping each other. You're ALL here because someone abused you, right? You're here to share -- share your pain, share your strength, and yet you would deny another victim that same support and understanding? You would turn that person away just because he had the bad luck to be born a man?" She glared at the group of sullen women.

     Ukyou turned to the table and picked up a glass. She made a show of ignoring the group as she filled it from the pitcher on the table. After taking a sip, she turned to face them once more. "It's easy, isn't it? I mean, look at him. He's a MAN, so he MUST be the enemy. Is that what you're telling me? A man strikes you, and it's abuse. A woman strikes a man, and it's no more than he deserves?"

     Ranma sat miserably in his chair, staring at the floor. If he stared at it hard enough, he thought, maybe a portal would open and he could get out of there. He could feel the gazes of the women around him, like ants crawling all over his body. It was all he could do to keep from bolting.

     Ukyou scowled. "Do any of you have even the slightest idea what you've done? Can you possibly appreciate how hard it was for a man, for THIS man, to come and admit that he needs help? He's here in violation of EVERY instinct that he's ever been taught -- to ask for your help -- and all he findds are people that laugh in his face. You people are no better than the men that have been abusing you."

     Ukyou raised the glass of water in mock salute. "Well, you can be proud of yourselves. You're turning away the ONE man on this planet who can really look at things from a woman's point of view."

     Ranma looked up in horror when Ukyou's last words penetrated the fog around his mind. It was too late. The contents of Ukyou's glass caught him full in the face.

     A shocked silence descended on the room as Ukyou's glass shattered against the far wall.

     "C'mon, Ran-chan. Let's get the hell out of here. I don't know how, but I swear to you, I'll make this up to you someway. There must be some place where we can go." Ukyou drew the dazed and dripping redhead to her feet and stalked off through the door with Ranma following meekly behind her.

     Once they had gotten a ways down the hall, Ukyou led Ranma into a vacant room. Ranma followed mindlessly, still in a state of mild shock. Ukyou led her to a chair, then pulled up a second seat for herself.

     "I am SO sorry, Ran-chan." Ukyou's stern facade crumbled, leaving her near tears. "I'm sorry that I lost my temper back there, I'm sorry that I splashed you, I'm sorry that I ever tried to drag you into this group. I didn't know what else to do. I thought... I believed that they would help..."

     Ranma looked affectionately at her friend. She had thought about getting angry... she had planned on it, in fact. But when it came right down to it, Ranma couldn't find it in her heart to be mad at Ucchan.

     After what seemed like an eternity, Ranma found her voice. "It's... it's okay, Ucchan," she said quietly. "I know that you were trying to help me." Ranma paused for a moment. "It was nice of you to try. I... I don't know what I'd have done if I didn't have you to talk to."

     Ukyou buried her face on Ranma's shoulder and let the tears come. Ranma put her arms around her friend as she cried.

     Ranma didn't know how long they had been sitting there when a movement by the door caught her eye. She looked up to see a woman coming quietly into the room.

     Ukyou stopped crying when she felt Ranma stiffen. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, and looked up to see the redhead wearing a tense but neutral expression. The effort it was taking to keep that expression neutral was obvious to anyone that knew Ranma. Ukyou turned to see Kimiko standing in the doorway.

     "What do you want?" asked Ukyou. Her tone was cold, flat.

     Kimiko flinched when she heard it, but she stood her ground. "I came," she said slowly, "to apologize." She looked toward the floor. "You were right, you know. None of us had ever even considered the fact that a man might be the victim of abuse."

     "Miyuki-san did," said Ranma quietly.

     Kimiko could read nothing from Ranma's expression. "Miyuki is a relative newcomer to this group. She has not had the chance to become so jaded as the rest of us. I hope... I hope that she never will. May I come in?"

     Ranma hesitated, then gestured silently toward a vacant chair.

     Kimiko walked to it and sat down. It took her a moment before she started speaking again. "You certainly know how to make an exit. I'm still not sure that I believe what I saw. Are you really... I mean you were a... but now you're a..." Kimiko trailed off helplessly.

     "It's a long story," sighed Ranma.

     "I'll buy that." Turning back to Ukyou, she continued. "Your little speech caused quite a stir back there. You said a lot of unpleasant things -- one woman got so angry that she left."

     "I wish I could say that I was sorry," Ukyou said.

     "Don't. The times when it hurts the most are the times when the truth most needs to be told." Kimiko sighed. "I am more than a little ashamed of my own behaviour. I agreed to lead this group because it was important to me to try and help people who were facing the same demons that I once did." She looked to Ranma. "When I was beaten by the man that used to be my husband, there were no groups like this one. I had gone to the police, but they would do nothing. I was his wife, they said. If he was beating me, I must have deserved it."

     Ranma kept her expression neutral, but nodded for Kimiko to continue.

     "For the longest time, I believed them. I had no idea what I had been doing wrong, but it had to be my fault; and so the beatings continued. To hide my shame, I wore dresses with long sleeves year round. I wore dark glasses and a scarf over my head. I was often ridiculed for my lack of fashion sense, but it was better than letting them see the bruises that covered me."

     Ranma frowned when she caught herself tugging her own sleeves down over her forearms. Kimiko winced as she noticed the gesture.

     "Let me see..." she said softly.

     Reluctantly, Ranma gave Kimiko her hand. With the gentle skill born of long experience, Kimiko pushed Ranma's sleeve back to reveal the purple and yellow mottling of multiple bruises. Gingerly she traced the pattern of the injuries with a finger. "You heal very quickly, don't you?" Ranma nodded. "Such force... this has been going on for some time, hasn't it?" After a moment of silence, Ranma gave another faint nod. "I thought so."

     While she examined Ranma's arm, Kimiko resumed her story. "I was lucky. I had a friend very much like yours here who helped me. It took her a long time, but she finally convinced me that there was something wrong in my marriage, and that it wasn't me." She took Ranma's other arm and repeated her examination. "After a time, I moved out of my home and in with my friend. My husband took it badly and assaulted me and my friend. He was arrested, and I got a divorce."

     Kimiko met Ranma's gaze. "After that, I vowed that as long as I could do anything about it, no victim of domestic abuse was ever again going to have to face the apathy, and the indifference that I had found. Tonight, I am shamed to say, I broke that vow. I hope that I can somehow repair..."

     Kimiko broke off as a group of women shuffled self-consciously into the room. Ukyou and Ranma looked up at the same time, and Ranma snatched her arm back, once more tugging her sleeve down to hide the bruising. It was a moment before anyone said anything.

     Finally, after being nudged forward by her companions, one of the women spoke up. "We didn't know whether or not Kimiko would be able to convince you to give us another chance, and, well, we all wanted to let you know how sorry we were..."

     Miyuki spoke up from the middle of the group. "I'm sorry, Ranma. It never even dawned on me that people might not take your case seriously because you were a man..." She glared at her companions.

     Ranma smiled at her and nodded her understanding.

     "Yes," piped up another woman. "We feel very badly about that..." the speaker looked up to meet Ranma and Ukyou's gazes. "It is a shameful thing to realize just how prejudiced you really are. I had thought myself above such behaviour. Please forgive me. It will NOT happen again."

     Kimiko's expression was sober, and contrite. "Will you give us another chance? We really would like to help..."

     There was a general muttering of agreement with that, followed by a pregnant silence, as the group waited for Ranma's verdict. Ranma studied the group, looking from face to face. She saw concern, shame and sincerity -- hope and sorrow, but no malice, and no hesitation.

     Finally, Ranma spoke. "You understand," she began, "that I am a guy... that this..." she indicated herself, "...this body is just the result of a bizarre Chinese curse..." she let the words hang.

     There were nods from the assorted women. No one even so much as smirked. After another long pause, Ranma sighed. Looking to Ukyou she gave a weak smile and said, "Okay. I'm not sure that this is going to work, but I'll at least give it a chance." Her expression sobered. "Thank you."

     Ranma and Ukyou allowed themselves to be escorted back to room 101. While the rest of the group got settled, Ukyou went to the urn on the table and secured a cup of hot water.

     "Tea bags are in the tin on the corner," she was told.

     Ukyou grinned. "Thanks, but this is for Ran-chan."

     That got her a strange look, until she handed the cup to Ranma, who promptly upended it over her head. Again, a disbelieving silence fell over the room as Ranma's outline blurred and shifted, growing taller and broader, curves flattening out, and hair darkening. In seconds, the transition was complete, and Ranma, once more in his male form, sighed in relief.

     "I saw that. I don't believe it, but I saw it," muttered one.

     "How... but... ye gods, man... doesn't that hurt?"

     Ranma grimaced. "Only my pride."

     Miyuki shook her head. "Every time I see that, it still sends a chill down my spine."

     "Miyuki! You mean to say that you knew about this?"

     "Of course I did! I told you that Ukyou would be bringing in a friend that needed help." Her tone softened a bit. "I guess I should have made it clearer that Ranma was a man... but I honestly didn't think that it was important... it never crossed my mind. I'm sorry."

     "Don't be," Kimiko's voice was firm. "It shouldn't make a difference -- I think that we've all learned that lesson by now."

     "But what about Hikaru? She left!"

     Ranma looked around. The redhead with the long pigtail was missing. He frowned. "I'm sorry," he said, starting to get to his feet. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."

     "Sit back down!" chorused Kimiko and Ukyou in unison.

     "It's not your fault," Kimiko continued. "I know Hikaru -- she's a very kind and sensitive person -- sometimes too sensitive. She'll be back once she's had a chance to cool off."

     She paused to take a sip of her tea. "Why don't we start over, ne? We'll all introduce ourselves, and then you can tell us a little about yourself." She set her cup down and cleared her throat.

     "My name is Takahashi Kimiko. I lead this group, though it might be more accurate to say I guide it. You already know the gist of my story. I've already experienced a lot of the problems that the rest of us are facing; the anger, the helplessness, the frustration, and the apathy. Part of my job here is to let you know that you can get past this -- that your problems can be solved."

     "We work on a very personal level here, Ranma. In our meetings we often share some of the most intimate details of our lives, so it does not pay to stand too hard on formality. We are all on a first-name basis."

     Miyuki was next. "My name is Manabe Miyuki. I was the newest member until tonight..." she looked at Ranma and smiled. "I guess that I'm a lot luckier than most here... my husband only really gets violent when he drinks. He's never hurt me seriously... but he's scared me. And, himself, I think -- he's the one that suggested I join this group."

     Ranma's eyes widened at that. Kimiko noticed and broke in again. "That's one thing that you'll have to decide for yourself. How much do you tell your spouse about these gatherings... I do not advocate dishonesty; but there are those here that would be... punished... for trying to get help. Others, like Miyuki here, are more fortunate."

     Ranma nodded thoughtfully. While he had a policy of total honesty where Akane was involved, he had learned that a lie of omission was not truly a lie. If asked about something directly, he would answer honestly, but as long as no one asked, he knew better than to volunteer the information.

     The next girl who introduced herself was Fujishima Natsumi. She had short, dark brown hair that had a mind of its own, and piercing green eyes. She was trim and athletic, and had an air of confidence and enthusiasm that was infectious. She reminded Ranma a lot of Akane, the way she had been when they had first met.

     Togashi Keiko was the sullen redhead that had set off Ucchan earlier in the evening. Her thick mop of fire red hair was trimmed short in the back and longer in front and was kept out of her face by the headband that she wore. Rich chocolate eyes burned with emotion, and Ranma got the impression that she was not one that hid her feelings.

     After Keiko, a girl wearing a yellow dress spoke up. Her name was Takachiho Yuriko, and she was lovely. Long black hair cascaded almost to her waist, and bright, blue-green eyes shone under her bangs. Ranma liked her almost immediately. Her natural warmth and friendliness made him wonder how anyone could even consider mistreating her.

     The next to introduce herself was Okuda Rei. She was a slender girl, almost elfin in appearance, with blue hair cut just below the chin and deep eyes that were such a glowing brown they appeared almost red. Her voice was so quiet that Ranma had to strain to hear her. It was also cold... all but devoid of any detectable emotion. In a way, she was the one that most disturbed Ranma. There was an emptiness about her, but also a quiet intensity that was either determination, or resignation, Ranma could not tell which.

     There were more... Ryouko, Misato, Makoto, Setsuna, Kyoko, Hitomi, the list went on and on. Each one had a different story -- each one made Ranma ache to help.

     Ranma was astonished at the diversity of the group, and at the range of problems that plagued its members. He'd had no idea that there were so many ways for a relationship to go wrong -- or that people could be so determined to maintain them, to save them. Ukyou had been right -- he was not unique in that respect after all. It was truly an eye-opening set of revelations.

     Kimiko smiled reassuringly at him. "Now, Ranma... It's your turn."

     Ranma took a deep breath. "My name," he said, "Is Saotome Ranma. I am married to a warm, kind-hearted woman whom I love very much. My problem seems to be that I cannot avoid making her angry..."

     Ukyou and Ranma walked slowly back toward the Ucchan. After a rocky start, the meeting had seemed to go well enough. At least no one had made fun of Ranma, or his curse. Ukyou was pleased. If Ranma realized that he was among friends - friends who understood what he was going through -- they might just find a way to solve his problems.

     "Well, what did you think?"

     "I dunno." Ranma was noncommittal. "It was interesting, but..."

     "But what?"

     "But I can't do those things! Do they seriously expect me to... that I could file charges against Akane?"

     Ukyou managed a sad, little half-smile. "No, Ranma. I doubt that anyone really expects you to do that. But it is an option -- and that's what this group is all about... exploring options."

     "Hmph." After a moment of silence, Ranma shook his head and snorted.

     "Something funny?" asked Ukyou.

     "Can't you just see it? 'Hi! My name is Saotome Ranma! I'm a martial artist! I'd like you to arrest my wife because she hits me!' I'd be laughed out of Japan!"

     "Well, what about the counseling? Do you think that Akane might agree to something like that?"

     "Are you kidding? You know Akane -- she hates to ask for help with anything."

     "You mean like her cooking?" Ukyou asked snidely.

     "Ucchan! That wasn't a very nice thing to say." Ranma grimaced. "But if I even suggested something like counseling, she'd really pop her cork."

     The pair walked in silence for a few minutes.

     "The next meeting is in two weeks."

     "Next meeting? But..."

     "Ran-chan... You didn't expect change overnight, did you? This is going to take time. Miyuki tells me that this group meets every other Monday."

     Ranma digested that piece of information. "Just what good are these meetings supposed to do?" he asked.

     "Well, first of all, they are to let you know that you are not alone."

     "But I was alone... I was the only guy there!"

     "They let you know that there are others who have similar problems -- and that there are things that you can do about them. They are there so that you can talk about your problems -- focus on them, and try to find solutions."

     Ranma thought about Kimiko's story. "You don't mean leaving Akane, do you?"

     "Perhaps. I won't kid you -- I think that you ought to consider it." Ukyou held up a hand to forestall his objection. "I said 'consider.' I don't expect you to leave Akane, no. Not all of the problems are solved that way -- a lot of these couples can find solutions that will work for both parties."

     "Ah..."

     "And when the people do split up, it's not always permanent. A lot of them get back together after their problems are worked out and end up a lot happier for it." Ukyou paused. "Most of these people married the people they loved -- they don't want to throw that away. All they want is a way to stop the abuse -- to fix their problems so that they can live happily together. Divorce and such are very much a last resort."

     Ranma looked relieved. "Every other Monday, huh? I don't know..."

     "Don't make me beg you, Ran-chan. You need these people -- you need to find answers that you can get only from people who have experienced what you're going through now."

     Ranma thought about that, as they approached the Ucchan. Ukyou was right -- he did need help. Could these people really give it to him? There was only one way to find out.

     "Okay," he said. "I'll go back. But I have a condition."

     Ukyou paused and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "What sort of 'condition'?"

     "Will you go with me?"

     Ukyou smiled. "You bet I will, Ran-chan."

     Akane had, as Ranma expected, chosen to go to college. She'd opted to attend the same school that Nabiki did -- it was a good school, and it was close, so she could still live at home. That had helped to keep expenses down. She was studying business management, with some additional concentrations in art and literature. She reasoned that not only would she be better able to manage the dojo, but she'd have a number of other career options that she could choose from.

     However, Akane was discovering that college was not quite as easy as she had been led to believe. She was a month into classes, and she was up to her neck in schoolwork. Research papers, essays, tests and other homework all conspired to keep her running. There were times that she envied Ranma his relative freedom... he already knew what he wanted to do with his life and was working smoothly to achieve those goals.

     Ranma made it look so easy -- made it appear so effortless. Ranma wasn't spending his time tearing his hair over some obscure fact or formula. He wasn't having to deal with deadlines and busywork assigned by harried professors who had too little time and too many students. No, Ranma was having fun, taking it easy. And Akane was beginning to hate him for it.

     One afternoon, Akane came home from school to find Ranma, in girl form, sprawled lazily in front of the television. She appeared to be watching an old episode of Star Trek. Looking at her watch, Akane frowned. Didn't the man [sic] have any time-sense at all?

     "Ranma..." she said, coming into the room. When no answer was forthcoming, she called out again, more loudly. "Ranma!"

     "What do you want?" asked Ranma, without turning away from the television.

     "Shouldn't you cha... be getting ready?"

     "Ready for what?"

     Akane was starting to get exasperated. "Ready for your classes, baka! Your students should be here any minute."

     "Oh. That. No." Ranma lapsed back into silence.

     She moved between Ranma and the television. Ranma ignored her. "No?" Akane felt her blood pressure start to rise. "No what?"

     "No sir," Ranma replied sullenly.

     Reflexively, Akane slapped Ranma across the face. "None of your mouth," she growled. "Now, what do you mean, 'No'?"

     Ranma reached up to rub her stinging jaw with the back of her hand as she glared at her wife. "I mean," she said deliberately, "that I don't have to get ready... I don't have to... to change." Her tone was bitter. "No one is coming; there are no students."

     Akane was taken aback. "What? What happened?" she asked.

     Ranma's stare never wavered. "Their parents canceled their classes. They were very nice about it, but they just didn't feel that this dojo could foster the 'sense of peace and discipline' that they wanted for their children."

     "And why not? What's wrong with this dojo?" Akane's temper was heating up again.

     Ranma's smile was cold. "I'm sure that I don't know." she said levelly. "But it might have something to do with the rumours that the sensei and his wife fight all the time. Call it a hunch."

     "Are you telling me that this is my fault? Is that what you're telling me?"

     "I didn't say that. I said..."

     "I heard what you said! It's what you were implying that's the problem."

     "Well? Do you have a different theory?" asked Ranma, her tone holding a note of challenge. "It's not like people won't notice, is it? The whole damned neighbourhood can hear you when you're yelling at me!"

     "Well, I wouldn't have to yell at you if you didn't deserve it, now would I?"

     "I suppose not. Just answer one question for me then. What did I do? Why are you so angry with me?"

     "You have to ask?"

     "Yes, dammit, I do! I don't know! Do you think that I like having you angry? Do you think that I enjoy it when you're hammering on me?" Ranma shook her head in frustration. "All I want is to see you smile more often!"

     "You want to see me smile more often? Then STOP PISSING ME OFF!"

     "GYAAAHH!" Ranma closed her eyes and started counting to ten. By the time she had reached thirty she felt safe in resuming the debate, but Akane had gone.

     A sharp cracking sound caught her attention. She looked down and noticed the pulverized remains of the TV remote caught in her fist. "Damn," she sighed softly to herself. "There goes another one..."

     When meeting night rolled around, Ranma was so nervous that he'd only been able to eat six okonomiyaki. He was still a little uncertain about these things... the last meeting had come so close to being a disaster. But Ucchan was optimistic, Ranma could think of no good reason not to go, and so they went.

     Ranma was relieved to see that their arrival was greeted with smiles this time. He and Ukyou found a pair of vacant seats in the circle and dropped into them. He was not exactly relaxed, but at least he wasn't quite so tempted to bolt and run. Comfort and true acceptance would come only with time.

     Sitting and watching the others gather, Ranma was relieved to note that Kimiko had been right. The redhead with the long pigtail had come back after all. What was her name again? Oh, yes... Hikaru. Ranma took a moment to study her.

     She was shorter than most of the others, and quite slender. Wide brown eyes looked out of a child's face, but it was no child behind those eyes. Her pigtail hung past her hips and was in constant motion as she talked. She looked nervous to Ranma, but relieved at the same time. With a start, Ranma realized that the person she was talking to was pointing at him, and that Hikaru was now headed in his direction.

     Ranma managed to find his voice as she approached. "Matsumoto-san... I'm sorry about..." he started to say.

     She shook her head to silence him. "Please, call me Hikaru. May I join you?"

     Ranma nodded.

     "The fault for last week was mine, not yours. My friend Umi-chan is always telling me that I act first and think later." Hikaru grinned ruefully. "It looks like she might be right."

     She took a breath. "I want you to know just how sorry I am. After I left here during the last meeting, I did some heavy thinking. I was so angry at what your friend had said. It hurts a lot to have your own prejudices rammed down your throat. I felt awful. And there was no one that I could talk to about it either... all of the people that I trusted were still here. I felt so lost, so alone.

     "Then it occurred to me that what I was feeling right then was just a small sample of what you must have felt, the way we were treating you. If I hadn't had this group to draw strength from, I think that maybe I'd have died... and here I was sentencing someone else to that same emptiness just because he was a man."

     Hikaru looked up at Ranma, and there were tears in her eyes. "I am so very glad that you stayed -- that you didn't let us drive you away before we came to our senses."

     Ranma had no idea what to say. He settled for "Thank you." Kimiko spared him the need for further comment by calling the meeting to order. Ranma took a quick poll as everyone sat down, and noticed that this time, Keiko was missing. Ranma wondered if there was something wrong, or if not everyone attended all the meetings.

     The door opened at this point, and Keiko walked in. She grinned as she headed for a vacant chair. "Sorry I'm late."

     Ranma's eyes narrowed as he watched her move. There was the slightest hesitation in her gait as she brought her right leg forward, and her right shoulder seemed stiff. She detoured by the snack table, picked up a pastry and some coffee, and joined the circle.

     Once she was settled, Ranma asked casually. "Are you okay?"

     "Just fine!" she answered, a little too brightly. "Why?"

     "Well, you've that big bruise on the your right thigh, and another just under the right shoulder, above the breast. And there are at least two deep bruises on your upper right arm." said Ranma calmly.

     Keiko almost dropped her pastry, her eyes wide. She was wearing slacks and a sweater -- baggy and opaque. "How... how the hell did you know that?" she stammered.

     "You can tell a lot from the way a person moves, if you know what to look for."

     Ukyou nodded in confirmation. "He's right. You can." Hearing an odd tone to her voice, Ranma glanced up to find her looking at him with a sad 'I told you so' expression. He had the good grace to blush.

     "Another bad night?" Kimiko asked.

     Keiko nodded glumly. "Kyousuke lost his job the other day. He didn't take it very well, I'm afraid. I had heard about an opening with a company from a friend. But when I told Kyousuke about it, he got mad. He said that he didn't need my help and that I should stop 'interfering'..."

     Kimiko winced. Ranma was wearing a dark look.

     "You seem disturbed, Ranma..."

     "What kind of coward beats up on a woman -- let alone his wife?"

     "Well, what about that harpy that you're married to?" Keiko shot back.

     "Hey!" Ranma caught Keiko's sardonic grin and mentally kicked himself. It had been a thoughtless remark.

     Keiko wasn't holding it against him, though. "He's my husband, and I love him. But he's sick. He can't help being the way he is... at least, not on his own."

     Ranma shook his head. "I'm sorry, Keiko. I spoke without thinking." He grinned ruefully. "It's a habit that's gotten me in a lot of trouble in the past. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you."

     "But what about you?" Keiko studied Ranma. "That's a pretty nasty bruise you have over your eye."

     "It sure is," agreed Hikaru. "What on earth happened?"

     Ranma gingerly felt his forehead, wincing slightly as his fingers brushed over the injury. "Oh, this? This is from the stone lantern in the garden at home."

     "Did your wife trip you or something?"

     "Mmm? No, she threw it at me. I just didn't dodge in time."

     Natsumi turned to Ukyou. "He is kidding this time, isn't he?"

     Ukyou shook her head. "'Fraid not. I didn't actually see her throw it in this instance, but I've seen her do so in the past."

     A number of eyes around the circle widened at that, and a brief silence followed. Kimiko finally broke it. "Well. As Ranma is new here, perhaps we should explain in a little more detail what we do.

     "Most importantly, we try to make sure you understand that your being abused is not your fault. But there are things that you can do about it. The most obvious, of course, is to get away from the abuser. Get out of the relationship."

     Ranma looked mildly uncomfortable.

     Kimiko went on. "As obvious as it is, it's both the easiest, and the hardest, thing to do."

     "You'll have to explain that," Ranma said. "It sounds contradictory to me."

     "It's the easiest, because it's the simplest. You just leave. Walk away. It's the hardest, because it's the ultimate surrender, and no one likes to give up. It means that you write off a substantial investment of time and emotion. It's also scary, because it's such a drastic change. It's a big step to give up everything that is familiar to you and to strike out on your own.

     "Many victims are reluctant to choose this option. Sometimes that's a good thing -- and others, it's not. There are a lot of reasons that people stay in abusive relationships, and one of the things that we try to determine is just why each of us has stayed in our own -- and whether there is hope to fix it, or if we should admit defeat and abandon it.

     "Some victims seem to need the abuse -- to seek it out, almost. Deep down they feel that they must deserve it -- and that just isn't true."

     Noting Ranma's confused look, Hikaru piped in. "No one wants to be abused. But for some, it's the only form of attention that they've ever really known -- and even negative attention is better than no attention."

     A thoughtful expression crossed Ranma's face. What Hikaru was saying almost made sense in a twisted sort of way. He knew how much he hated to be ignored. Would he actually prefer abuse to indifference?

     Kimiko took up the thread again. "Most of us do want to save our relationships. We don't take our love or our commitments lightly. But at the same time, there comes a time when it is apparent that there is nothing more that we can do, and the time has come to get out. The trick is recognizing that time -- and often, other group members will see it before we will. Until that time does come for each of us, there are a number of other things that we can do to help one another."

     Yuriko nodded agreement. "One thing we try to do is to find non-confrontational ways of dealing with abusers -- ways to talk to them without triggering angry responses, yet also without letting them walk all over us. Also, when they are mad, we try to find ways to calm them before the abuse starts."

     "It's tricky," Natsumi added. "What works will vary considerably from personality type to personality type, as well as depending on the reasons that the people we love treat us so badly. We try very hard to figure out just what those reasons are.

     "We also try to find ways to convince our husb... er... sorry... spouses to find help. Most abusers are not exactly receptive to the idea that they might have a problem, but if you CAN get your spouse to go to a counselor, jointly or alone, then you have a much better chance of stopping the abuse."

     "We discuss other options too," Kimiko went on. "Agencies and shelters that exist to give us a place to go, if things get too bad -- programs and other resources that we can use when things get really bad."

     Ranma tried to imagine himself running to a women's shelter and failed. Even as a girl, it would be a long time before he would be ready to surrender that much of his pride.

     "You'll be encouraged to share your own experiences and feelings with us, as we will with you. You can never tell when another member will have that little bit of insight that could be the key to solving your problems. What one person may be too close to see, another might pick up on instantly.

     "And lastly, we're here for mutual support -- so that you know that you are NOT alone, and that there are always people who care, and who understand. People who know what you're dealing with, and can feel your pain and frustration. It may not sound like much, but it really does help."

     Ranma blinked, still trying to sort out all that he'd been told. There was a lot more to these group things than he had expected. He still wasn't sure what good all this talk stuff was supposed to be, but he had promised Ucchan that he would give it a chance. And Ranma kept his promises.

     Kimiko gave Ranma a sympathetic look. "Miyuki? Shall we begin with you tonight? Since this is Ranma's first meeting as a full member, why don't you tell him your story?"

     Miyuki nodded. "Well, Ranma, my husband is a graphic artist. He's worked for one of the larger consumer electronics firms for almost four years now. While most of his work was in advertising, they occasionally had him working on the design end -- where he would get to use his imagination a little more.

     "Everything was going our way. We had just gotten married, he liked his work, and we didn't have a care in the world. But, a little over a year ago, things started to go wrong...

     "After a poor showing on the Nikkei, his company started to make some management changes. They pushed him back into the ad department, but they were having him do less and less. They've been using a lot more 'clip-art' in their ad layouts in an effort to cut costs even further. People have been losing their jobs, and he has never been sure from one week to the next that he would still have a job to go back to.

     "Since then, it's only gotten worse. He hates his job, and he doesn't get along well with some of his co-workers He says that even a trained monkey can use clip-art, and that's how he sees a lot of them. The company is still in flux, and the job market in the graphic arts is pretty bad.

     "He has no confidence in himself, though I think he's damned good. I'm afraid that my opinion of his talents doesn't carry the same weight as his employer's might, and they don't really seem to give a damn. It has put him under a lot of stress.

     "As a result, he's gotten progressively more depressed and short tempered. He's usually more of an optimist, and he hates being like that. It becomes a cycle -- he gets more depressed because he's been depressed to begin with.

     "The real problems started when he started drinking more. One night, about six months ago, he came home really drunk. He'd come really close to losing his job that day... one of the few people that he liked in the department had lost his job. He was feeling relieved and guilty at the same time. I was trying to comfort him when he snapped. I never even saw him move, but the next thing that I knew, I was on the floor halfway across the room, and the side of my head was ringing like a bell."

     Miyuki paused to take a drink of her tea before continuing her story. Ranma was listening attentively, though his expression had hardened a bit at the point where she had described being struck. This time, however, he kept his mouth shut and waited for her to continue.

     "That was the first time that he'd ever hit me. He just stood there, staring at his own hand as if he'd never seen it before. I don't think that I've ever seen him look more frightened. He started crying like a baby... He swore that he was sorry, that it would never happen again. He was begging me to forgive him. Of course, I did."

     "But it did happen again, didn't it?" Ranma asked softly.

     Miyuki gave a sad little nod. "It did. It was almost two weeks later. He was drunk again and feeling sorry for himself. He really is a good man, but it's sometimes difficult to convince him of that. He just doesn't see the good in himself that others see. When something bad happens, he overreacts. He thinks that he deserves the pain, and when the alcohol breaks his control, he lashes out at anyone or anything that tries to make him feel better.

     "It just didn't get any better. He never hit me more than once at a time, but it got to the point that if I tried to talk to him while he was drunk, he'd lose control. He didn't always hit me then -- sometimes it'd be the wall, or a table, or a door -- anything to release some of the anger that was building up inside him. I never got the feeling that he was angry with me, but that didn't stop him from hitting me when the anger came out.

     "Then one day, after a particularly bad night, he locked himself in his study and wouldn't come out for days. He took vacation time from work, which they granted, though I suspect he'd have taken the time regardless. I didn't see a trace of him for three days. The only proof I had that he was still there -- that he was still alive -- was that every now and then I'd hear him muttering to himself, or a clatter as he dropped something.

     "I was starting to get really worried. I was almost to the point where I was ready to force the door when he came out on his own. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept at all in those three days. There were dark circles under his eyes, his complexion was sallow, and he needed a shave badly. He wouldn't let me get close to him, but for once he didn't seem angry... just sad.

     "His study was littered with drawings... when I asked him about them, he just said that he was tired of being destructive; that he wanted to create things again. I didn't press him for details at the time, though I did ask to see some of his drawings. I don't pretend to understand all of them, but they look very good to me."

     "What sorts of things did he draw?" asked Ukyou.

     "Characters, mostly... though there are lots of sketches of other things -- machines, animals, buildings, places. Even some maps and charts. They look like they all fit together somehow, but I haven't been able to make out the pattern.

     "Several days later, he told me about finding this group. He wanted me to come here for help. At first, I didn't want to come. It seemed to me like he was blaming me for all his trouble, since he expected me to go for help but wasn't willing to go himself. But after I got here, after the first couple of meetings, I learned differently. His sending me here was a cry for help. He needs the help, he knows that he needs it, but he has no idea how to ask for it."

     Ranma was looking thoughtful. "You say he really likes to draw?"

     "Oh, yes. Lately, it's been like a refuge for him. The more depressed or angry or bitter he gets, the more he loses himself in his drawing. He gets very wrapped up in it. What are you thinking?"

     "Well," Ranma took a deep breath, "I know that when I get upset, I practice the Art to feel better. It's what I enjoy doing, and I can usually find some peace in it, even when everything else is coming apart. I feel like it's what I was born to do. I was just wondering if maybe drawing wasn't the same thing for your husband."

     Miyuki smiled. "Well, he is an artist after all. But, yes, I see what you mean. The drawings that he does at home are very different from the sorts of things that he does for work."

     "Yes, that makes sense," Ranma was nodding. "If he is drawing to get his mind off of his problems, it would be. It might be interesting to see some of his drawing. It might be that it could tell you something about what he was really thinking or feeling."

     "Do you really think so?" Miyuki looked surprised. "I hadn't thought of that, but now that you mention it, it does sound reasonable."

     "Why don't you see if he'll let you bring some of his drawings to show us?" Kimiko suggested. "Ranma's idea is a good one -- maybe someone here can see something in them that might help. And if we can't, maybe a professional can."

     Miyuki looked doubtful. "He's pretty protective of his drawings. I don't know if I'll be able to talk him into it. But it's worth a try."

     Hikaru piped up, "Well, I'd sure like to see them!"

     "So would I," added Keiko.

     "Right then. I'll ask him for the next meeting."

     After the meeting had ended, as the group members were getting ready to go, Ranma approached Keiko. "Umm... look," he started. "About what I said earlier..."

     "Forget it," Keiko waved it aside. "You're not the first to suggest it. It may even be true. But it doesn't change the fact that I love him."

     "I know," said Ranma quietly.

     "You know, I do believe that you just might, at that," said Keiko with a grin.

     "Does he always hit you like that?"

     She sobered. "He hits me a lot."

     "Actually, that's not what I meant. Does he always hit you the same way. Does he always use the same attack?"

     "Oh, I think I see what you mean. Well, he uses a backhand alot, and then he's got this... I don't know what it's called..."

     "Show me."

     "But..."

     Ranma laughed. "You're not going to hurt me, Keiko. Please. Show me."

     "Well... okay." Reluctantly, Keiko swung her fist at Ranma, but she diverted her punch at the last minute. "Something like that..." she said.

     "Try it again, and this time, don't swing to miss... I need to know where he's hitting you, as well as how."

     After a moment's indecision, Keiko shrugged and swung again. She needn't have worried about hurting Ranma, she found out. When her fist got to him, he wasn't there anymore.

     Again and again, Ranma had her try to hit him as her husband hit her. After she got over her fear of hurting Ranma, Keiko had put more effort into the attempts, but she still could not touch him. She would have gotten frustrated if not for Ranma's encouragement and questions.

     A number of the others were gathering round, curious and mildly alarmed that Keiko was trying to tag Ranma. Kimiko moved in to put a stop to it, but then she realized that Keiko was doing all the swinging, and Ranma had a thoughtful expression on his face. She motioned the others to keep quiet and settled back to watch.

     After a few minutes more, Ranma called a halt. "Okay, I think I've got it now. Ucchan? Can I borrow you for a second?"

     Ukyou had been watching with interest. "Sure, Ran-chan. What'cha need?"

     "I want you to hit me like Keiko was trying to do... Keiko? I'd like to show you something."

     Ukyou nodded, and Keiko looked confused. "What are you doing?"

     "Just watch. Okay, Ucchan. Any time."

     Ukyou moved in to attack. Mimicking Keiko's attack precisely, she swung at Ranma. This time, however, Ranma didn't dodge. Instead, he moved his arm up and deflected the blow to one side. Ukyou pulled back and swung a second time, and again the blow was diverted. Ranma nodded, and Ukyou broke off the attack.

     Keiko's eyes were wide. "How did you do that?" she asked.

     "It's simple, really. The thing to remember is that when a punch is thrown, it is hard for the thrower to change its direction. The harder the punch, the more effort it takes the puncher to redirect it. It's a matter of momentum."

     "So?" Keiko asked.

     Ranma grinned. "It's also true that the harder the punch is, the easier it is for the person being punched to deflect, or redirect the blow."

     Keiko blinked. "That doesn't make any sense."

     "Sure it does. The person doing the hitting is putting all that energy into keeping their fist going in a certain direction. Once they start the attack, their own weight serves as the driving force, as well as muscle strength. All it takes is a little force applied at the right point to push that blow off its course."

     "I still don't understand."

     "Okay. Here's an analogy. Close your eyes, and imagine that you are holding a garden hose. Got the image?"

     Keiko shut her eyes and concentrated. "Okay... got it. I still don't..."

     "Don't worry, you will. Now. You're spraying your garden... put your thumb over the nozzle. Try and stop the flow of water. What happens?"

     "I get wet," said Keiko. "I can't stop the water, it just sprays around my thumb, all over everything."

     "Right. That's because the water is stronger than you are. It can apply more pressure than you can -- there is no way that you are going to stop it. Now, take your thumb and press it against the side of the nozzle, against the stream of water. What happens now?"

     "The water shoots off to the side, because..." Keiko's eyes snapped open. "I get it!"

     Ranma grinned. "Now. I want you to swing at me again, but very slowly."

     Nodding, Keiko took up a ready stance and swung as slowly as she could. Ranma brought up his arm, crossed against her forearm, and pushed the punch to one side while he moved to the other. Keiko's fist passed harmlessly through empty space.

     "You see? It's easy." After another fifteen minutes of practicing and demonstration, Ranma had satisfied himself that Keiko really did understand the fundamentals of the move he was showing her. He smiled. "Now, this is how you can avoid that backhand..."

     Ranma, Ukyou, and Kimiko were sitting in a booth in a small kissaten near the Civic Centre. Once they had placed their orders, Kimiko turned to Ranma. "I'd like to thank you for showing Keiko those moves this evening," she began. "She's one of the girls that I worry about the most."

     "How so?" asked Ranma.

     "Of the group, her husband is one of the more violent abusers." An image of a stone lantern winging its way across a garden flashed through Kimiko's mind. "At least he was."

     "You realize that the moves that I showed her tonight are purely defensive... there was no offensive component to any of them."

     "That's a lot more than she had before. At least now she'll have more of a chance, if her husband loses his control completely."

     Ranma nodded. "I suppose so. But without a lot of training, that sort of thing is more of a measure of last resort. What I showed her will enable her to avoid getting really hurt, but it won't stop him hitting her."

     Kimiko looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ranma... I'd like to ask you a favour, if I might."

     Ranma exchanged a puzzled glance with Ukyou. "Sure, I guess."

     "The Civic Centre has a small gymnasium. I think that I could get it reserved for meeting nights. Would you consider showing some of those moves to the entire group?"

     Ranma was startled. "What, you mean like a class, or something?"

     "Yes. A self-defense class. There are a number of girls in the group who could benefit from such a class."

     "I don't know," Ranma began uncertainly. "I'm not all that sure that everyone would be comfortable with the idea... and I don't want to disrupt things any more than I already have..."

     "I know this is difficult for you," Kimiko's voice was gentle. "You still don't feel like you fit in, do you?"

     "Not really, no." Ranma hesitated. "I know that you are all trying very hard, but I'm still not sure how well this is going to work. I mean... well, it's just that..."

     "I understand. It will take time. We really do want to help, and I suspect that you will be just as much a learning experience for us as we are for you. Please don't let a little awkwardness get in the way."

     Ranma stared into the depths of his teacup. He had enjoyed showing those blocks to Keiko... he had felt like he was really doing something to help. But a class? That implied a commitment: an obligation. Was he really ready for that? Was he so sure that they would come to truly accept him? No. But they needed, and had asked, for his help as well. Even if he hadn't asked for theirs, duty demanded this of him. His insecurity and his conscience fought a brief battle. "What sort of a class did you have in mind?" Ranma asked quietly.

     Kimiko tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Nothing too elaborate. I thought maybe that it could be set after the meetings, and anyone that wanted to could stay after to attend."

     "And what would you want me to teach them?"

     "You've seen what can happen; what's being done to them. Teach them what will help them survive."

     Ranma's eyebrow rose. "That was an... interesting choice of words."

     "It was deliberate. Not every abusive husband will go that far, not many will, but there are those who do. Whether it was malice or accident won't matter to the ones who pay the price."

     Ranma closed his eyes and shuddered. He'd had no idea. He owed them this as a martial artist. And if they helped him rebuild his relationship with Akane, it would only magnify the debt. He could not, and would not, turn his back on them. He nodded to Kimiko. "There are some things that would need to be absolutely clear."

     Kimiko nodded. "Fair enough."

     "First of all, I'm NOT going to teach them how to fight."

     That statement caught Kimiko by surprise. Noting her look, Ranma explained. "Learning to fight well takes a long time, Kimiko. More importantly, a real fight is very likely to make things worse. If I understood what you were saying in the meeting earlier, then it would be a safe bet that suddenly fighting back is only going to make the abuser even angrier. That won't stop the attack, it'll intensify it."

     Kimiko nodded thoughtfully. "You have a very good point there. But surely there is something that can help!"

     "Certainly. There are a number of things that they can learn fairly quickly. First of all, they can learn how to take a punch without getting hurt as much. Then there are a number of ways to dodge or block an attack. Lastly, I can teach a number of ways that they can quickly disable an attacker -- at least for a short time."

     "That sounds ideal, Ranma."

     "One thing that I want to make sure is clearly understood though. These disable strikes are not lethal, but they can be very painful. I can pretty well guarantee that if they have to use them that it will really piss off their attackers. They had damned well be ready to run."

     "But if they were ready to run... it could give them a chance to escape?"

     Ranma nodded reluctantly. "Yes. It could give them that chance."

     "I understand. Any chance is better than no chance, Ranma. Besides. Such a course can do worlds of good, even if they never have to use what you teach them directly."

     Ranma blinked. "You've lost me there, I'm afraid."

     "Ranma, do you know what one of the biggest problems that abuse victims face is? It's not the size or strength of the person beating them -- it's the fact that these victims are beaten before the physical abuse ever starts."

     Noting the confused look on Ranma's face, Kimiko tried to explain. "There are a lot of ways to stop abuse... the simplest, as I said at the meeting, is just to leave. For a variety of reasons, many will never seriously consider this option -- even if faced with life-threatening beatings."

     Eyes wide, Ranma gasped. "Are they really so determined to salvage a marriage?"

     "It's not that simple," Kimiko shook her head. "Certainly we'd all like to save our marriages. But that's not always possible. I tried to save my own, but in the end, I had to face the reality that I was the only one trying to make things better -- and that I wasn't going to be able to do it alone. Once I had accepted that, I left."

     "But he came after you, didn't he?"

     "He did. But by then I was out of his reach. I had a friend who was willing to help me, and a place to stay. I was lucky. Not all victims are willing to leave, even when they realize that things are not going to get better."

     "Why not?"

     "There are many reasons. Some of them feel that they deserve to be treated the way they are; they don't know what they've done, but they feel that if they didn't deserve it, it wouldn't be happening to them. Some are scared. If they left it would make things worse. Their husbands might come after them and then the beatings would become more severe."

     "Does that really happen?"

     "It can -- when there's no one around who's willing to help, to prevent it. Then there are those who are just too scared to make the change. They know what to expect where they are -- they don't like it, but it frightens them less than the unknowns of really being on their own. They can be the hardest to help.

     "What it really boils down to is self confidence. They have no sense of self worth, no belief in themselves. They're afraid to do anything because they'd only make things worse, and they don't think they can make it on their own."

     Ranma shook his head sadly. "So how is a martial arts course going to help with all of that?"

     "You haven't been with us long enough to have noticed, but as you were teaching Kei those blocks this evening, she looked alive again. Like she had hope. I haven't seen her that excited about anything for months. You can give all of them what you gave her. Give them some confidence in themselves -- give them back their self esteem."

     Ranma thought about that. He remembered how good it made him feel every time he had mastered a new technique -- every time he had learned something new. It was a rush. He also remembered how much he liked to teach -- the satisfaction he got from sharing that feeling with someone else. And it would be a chance to really help these people. To do something positive, instead of just feeling helpless. Slowly, Ranma began to nod.

     "Then you'll do it?" Her tone was hopeful.

     "I'll do it," Ranma said. "But I have a request."

     "Anything that I can do," agreed Kimiko.

     "Not of you," Ranma smiled. He turned to Ukyou, his expression serious again. "Ucchan... if this is going to work, I'm going to need a trained partner. Can you spare that much more time?"

     It embarrassed Ranma to see the relief in Ukyou's eyes as she said, "You bet I can, Ran-chan."

     Kimiko opened the next meeting with an announcement. "As I told each of you over the phone last week, Ranma has agreed to teach any of us that are interested some basic self-defense techniques. For those of you that have decided to take him up on his generous offer, we will gather in the auxiliary Gym after our meeting adjourns. There is a locker room where you can change into the appropriate clothing."

     Once her announcement had been made, Kimiko turned to Miyuki. "Last time, you said that you'd try to bring in some of your husband's drawings... Did you get the chance?"

     "Yes, I did." Miyuki pulled out a stack of drawings and handed them to Natsumi, who was sitting next to her. As she talked, the stack began to make its way around the circle. "This is what he does to relax -- sometimes he'll spend hours on it, and it's like he's in another world. He might as well be, for all the notice I get out of him at those times."

     "Was it difficult to get him to let you bring these?" asked Keiko as her turn with the stack came.

     "That was a little strange, now that you mention it. It wasn't as difficult as I had expected."

     "Oh? What do you mean?"

     "He seemed a little... reluctant, but he let me bring that stack without too much persuasion. It was almost as if he was hoping that I'd ask."

     "Maybe he was," said Hikaru.

     Keiko muttered, "I wish that my husband was so eager to make things better."

     Ranma's turn had come to look through the drawings that Miyuki had brought. After sorting through them, he shuffled them into a neat stack and waited for a lull in the conversation.

     "Miyuki-san?"

     "Yes, Ranma?"

     Ranma paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask his question. He shrugged mentally and opted for the straight line course. "I was just curious..." he indicated the stack of drawings in his lap. "There are more of these, right? More that have the same characters in them?"

     Miyuki looked puzzled. "Yes, I think so... There are a LOT of them. Why do you ask?"

     Ranma looked sheepish. "Well, I kinda got wrapped up in the story and wondered where he was going with it."

     "Story?! What are you talking about? Those are just some of his drawings -- aren't they?"

     A number of the others in the group were exchanging puzzled glances as well. None were too sure how this was relevant to Miyuki's problem, but Ranma seemed very sincere in his question.

     "You didn't know?" Ranma seemed genuinely surprised. "Yes, these are all part of a story -- at least I'm pretty sure that they are."

     "I never really thought about it," Miyuki said. "I just thought that they were pretty good. Would you show me?"

     "Sure." Ranma got up, trotted over to an empty table, and started laying the drawings out in sequence. The others started to gather round, as Ranma started pointing drawings out to Miyuki.

     "Okay, this is the first one, I think. See this character? She's the heroine of the story. These two are her sidekicks -- or her pets, I'm not sure which."

     Miyuki looked at the drawing and nodded. "Go on..."

     Ranma moved from drawing to drawing as he described what he could deduce of the story. "The heroine here," he said, "is fighting against some sort of evil empire -- you know, the sort that drains all the resources and throws 'em away, leaving the people to rot. Her sidekick here is in love with her, but she treats him like dirt. There looks to be a scene or two where she knows how he feels and that she loves him too, but she won't show it. There are a number of subplots that I can't tell too much about from these drawings, but that much seems clear."

     Miyuki was nodding slowly. "Yes... I see what you mean. Now that you mention it, there are a number of things that seem sort of... familiar about some of this as well."

     "Really? Like what?"

     Miyuki grinned. "Well, I'd never have thought of this before I met you, but for one thing, your 'love struck sidekick' looks a lot like a male version of me."

     Ranma looked at the drawings and back at Miyuki several times. After a moment, he was nodding, too. "I see that now. So, tell me: is there any resemblance between the heroine and your husband?"

     "Well, not in looks, no. But if your guesses are right, then there are a number of attitudes that they both share..." Miyuki's tone was thoughtful. "I wonder... I am definitely going to have to take a closer look at the rest of these drawings when I get home."

     "You might also try to talk your husband into publishing this," said Ranma. "The artwork is very good, and I like what I've seen of the story. I'd really like to know how it ends."

     "So would I, Ranma. So would I."

     Standing off in the background, Kimiko smiled to herself. She loved it when the group was working.

     Ranma's martial arts class was to be held in a small gym off the main civic centre facility. It was ideally suited for his purposes, though. There was matting available to cover the floors and prevent injury, and there was an attached locker room and shower. It was not, of course, as nice as the dojo, but it was as close as he ever expected to get in a community facility. He had been very pleasantly surprised.

     Standing at one end of the little gym, it was all Ranma could do to keep from pacing like a caged animal. He was nervous. How had he let Kimiko talk him into this? He still wasn't sure that these women would really accept him, or that there would be any real interest in what he had to offer. Still, if there was anything that he could do to help these people... there never had really been a choice. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and waited to see who was going to be taking the class.

     Finally, people started to trickle into the room. Ukyou led the crowd, and a crowd it turned out to be. Ranma did a quick head count. It looked like the entire membership was there. Kimiko noticed his stunned expression and grinned. "We may be inexcusably rude from time to time Ranma, but we're not stupid."

     Ranma looked confused.

     "She means, Ranma," Miyuki said gently, "that if you offer us an edge, we'll take it."

     With a nod and a grin, Ranma assured himself that his new students were ready and began. "In a martial art, one of the first things that you learn is how to fall -- and how to be hit."

     "How to BE hit? We KNOW how to be hit," said Natsumi darkly.

     Ranma grimaced. "That's not what I meant. In order to fight back most effectively, you have to learn how to move and absorb impacts to minimize their effects. You are going to fall, and you are going to get hit. If you can keep from getting hurt in the process, you'll be better able to do something about it."

     "How do you mean?" asked Yuriko.

     "You have to know how to fall without breaking your neck, and how to turn that fall to your advantage. You also have to know how to take a blow -- how to absorb the energy in the blow without allowing it to cause damage. From there, up to a point, you'll be in control of how badly you get hurt. Then you can best use that moment against your opponent, whether it be to run or to fight."

     Natsumi was scratching her head. "But that doesn't make sense! How can we control how badly they hurt us?"

     "You've all seen really impressive fights in movies, haven't you?"

     "Well, I'm no Jackie Chan fanatic, but yes, I've seen a few brawls in films. What about it?" asked Setsuna.

     "When they make the movie, do the people in those fights get hurt?"

     "Of course not! Those fights aren't real!"

     "Oh, but they are, to a point. True, punches are pulled, but it's also true that they'll rattle your teeth if you don't know how to roll with 'em, and they connect. A stunt man can do these things and not get hurt because he knows how to fall -- how to absorb impact over a distance to keep from getting damaged. Martial arts use the same principles."

     "I thought that stunt men had all kinds of special equipment to keep them from getting hurt," said Hikaru. "Like those great big airbags."

     "Yes, but not for a basic fight. That still relies on skill and training."

     "Falling doesn't hurt. It's the sudden stop at the end," laughed Yuriko.

     "Yes. That's it exactly," Ranma nodded. "And the emphasis really is on the 'sudden.' Let's look at the mechanics of it. When you jump off of a diving board, gravity takes over. The farther you fall, the faster you are moving when you hit the water, right?"

     "Yah, so?"

     "The faster you move, the more energy that you have. The faster that energy is transferred, the more damage it does to you -- the more it will hurt."

     Makoto looked confused. "I'm not sure that I quite follow that."

     "Okay -- think of it this way. When you dive into the water, how deep do you go? You'll go deeper from the higher board, won't you?"

     "Well, yes, I suppose so."

     "The water in the pool is absorbing the energy of your fall. It does so by slowing you down. The faster you are moving, the longer it takes the water to slow you, so the deeper you go. The energy in your fall is being transferred to the water relatively slowly."

     Keiko was nodding. "That makes sense."

     "Now imagine that you have jumped off the board, and there is no water. What happens to you?"

     "I'll hit the bottom and break every bone in my body!"

     "Right! D'you know why? It's because the energy of your fall would be transferred to the concrete almost instantly. The concrete won't give, like the water does. Instead of absorbing the force of your impact over a distance, like the depth of the pool, it does so in no distance at all. The shock of that sudden stop -- that sudden transfer of energy -- is what makes the fall lethal.

     "It's the same way with falling on the floor, or taking a punch. The longer that you can draw out that transfer of energy, the less it will hurt, and the less damage it can do."

     Light slowly began to dawn on the members of the group. "So what you're saying," piped up Hikaru, "is that if we can move with the impact, it'll hurt less?"

     Ranma smiled. "That's it exactly! Once you know how to minimize the damage that you take, you'll be in a much better position to fight back, or, better, to run."

     There were nods and murmurs from the assembled women. Ranma smiled. "Let me demonstrate. Ucchan?"

     Ukyou squared off with Ranma and they proceeded to demonstrate a few falls and tumbles. Then, one by one, Ranma showed the group members how best to roll with a fall to absorb the impact, and how to use that momentum to get quickly back to their feet. It took a while, but by the end of the session the pained grunts and cries had been replaced with mild exclamations of triumph.

     Ranma watched the class finish the last few tumbles, then called a halt to the evening's exercises. Once he had everyone's attention, he said, "You're all doing very well. Next time, you'll start learning how to defend yourselves. We'll begin with a few basic dodges and blocks, and a quick disable or two. Then, we'll add more advanced variants in following classes."

     As the women filed out of the room, Ranma listened to their excited chatter and sighed in satisfaction. He really did enjoy teaching, and helping people like this was one of the reasons he studied the Art.

     Ukyou came up behind him and handed him a towel, startling him out of his reverie. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

     After a pause to consider his reply, Ranma said, "I like them. They're interested in learning."

     Ukyou smiled grimly. "Some of them certainly have a reason to be well motivated. C'mon, Ran-chan. It's time to go home."

     Ranma nodded and followed his friend out into the night.

     On Wednesdays, Ranma's father came back to the dojo to train with him. As usual, the pair ignored the dojo in favour of the backyard and the pond. For hours they would leap over the water, each intent on trying to catch his opponent off guard and send him plunging into the pool.

     Today, Genma was having little difficulty getting the better of his son. After the third time he'd sent Ranma into the pond, he halted the session and headed for the house. He was mildly surprised that he made it into the house unchallenged. He'd deliberately left his guard down, and Ranma had made no move to take advantage of it.

     "What's the matter with you, boy?" he asked the dripping girl. "If you can't do any better than that, you might as well give up the Art and take up knitting." Genma dropped into a crouch, ready to ward of his son's angry attack, but again, it didn't come. Ranma ignored him completely on her way to the bath.

     Genma didn't like the looks of this. There was something bothering Ranma, and he meant to find out what it was. Genma decided that now would be a good time for him to take a bath as well.

     By the time Genma got into the bathroom, Ranma was already in the tub, soaking. He washed quickly and then joined his son in the hot water. Still, Ranma ignored him.

     "Son," Genma's voice was surprisingly gentle. "What is it that's so bad it takes your mind off the Art?"

     That got a reaction. "Is that concern I hear in your voice, old man? You must be slipping."

     Genma sounded tired, even to his own ears. "Is it really so hard to believe that I would be concerned for my son?"

     A pause. "No. I suppose not. I'm sorry, Pop."

     "So tell me. What is it that has you so distracted?"

     "What else? It's Akane. I just can't figure her out. No matter what I do, or don't do, I end up making her angry."

     "Oh, is that all," Genma sounded relieved. "I thought it was going to be something serious."

     "Pop! It is serious!"

     "Ranma m'boy, you're taking things far too personally. Women are always angry -- it's just the way they are. No one really knows why."

     Ranma raised an eyebrow as he regarded his father across the steaming tub. "I'm beginning to understand a little more about why you liked life on the road so much. You don't understand, Pop. Akane gets really angry."

     Genma shrugged. "So what's your point? She's always done that." He watched as Ranma stood and climbed out of the tub. A shiver passed through the boy, and Genma wondered whether it was the sudden shock of the cool air or the force of Ranma's emotion that had caused the tremor.

     "Not like this, Pop. Not like this."

     The old man's eyes widened, and he gasped. "You're afraid of her, aren't you? You're afraid of Akane!"

     Ranma whirled on his father, fury in his eyes. "Is that really what you think? That I'm that much like you? You may think that the perfect couple squabbles all the time, but I don't. And I don't think that Akane does either."

     "Are you implying, son, that I am afraid of your mother?"

     Ranma smirked. "Implying it? Hell no! I'll say it outright!"

     "I am not afraid of my wife!" Genma growled and reached for a nearby bucket of cold rinse water. He hurled the contents at his son. Ranma sighed, shook her head, and resumed drying her hair.

     "Is that why you wasted ten years of our lives running in terror from her every time she managed to track us down? Is that why I had to be 'Ranko' every time she came to visit? Or are you going to blame it all on your stupid promise, and my curse again?"

     "Careful, boy, or I'll see to it that she finds out just how 'manly' you are right now, acting like a girl as well!"

     "If you must," Ranma said with a shrug as she walked out of the room. "Just so you remember the entirety of the promise that you made her. Are you that eager to die?"

     When the next meeting night came, it was Ranma's turn on the grill. "So, tell us, Ranma. How did you meet your wife? What brought the two of you together?" asked Kimiko.

     "Ours was an arranged marriage. Pop and Tendou-san had agreed that our families were to be joined, so I was engaged to one of the Tendou daughters practically before I was born."

     "Ack! People still do things like that?"

     "They do. Of course, Pop never told me any of this. Not until we were just a few kilometers from the Tendou house. The curse was only a few weeks old, it was raining, and then Pop tells me that I'm supposed to marry some girl that I've never even met before. It was not my best day."

     "I guess not," agreed Miyuki. "Why did you marry her then? You could have just told your father to get stuffed."

     "Oh, I had no intention of marrying anyone. Even as we got to the Tendou's place, I was ready to head back to China."

     "And what stopped you?" asked Keiko.

     "Fate, I guess. Tendou-san had been expecting his old friend and a son. What he got was a panda and a girl. He fainted. I'd never been so embarrassed in all my life. It went downhill from there." Ranma settled back in his chair. "Tendou-san had three daughters. Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane. Kasumi was fretting over her father and Nabiki was complaining to anyone who'd listen that she didn't want to marry a girl. Akane was the only one who didn't act disappointed.

     "Akane treated me like a friend, and I badly needed a friend. The last time that I'd had a real friend, it was Ucchan here, and at that point, it had been ten years since I'd last seen her. Traveling with my father wasn't easy at the best of times -- we seldom stayed in one place long enough for me to make any friends. It was a lonely way to grow up.

     "But when Akane found out that I wasn't a girl, she didn't deal with it so well. I guess she felt like I'd betrayed her somehow. She got angry, and then I got angry, and both of us said some pretty mean and silly things. Naturally, our fathers decided that Akane and I were perfect for one another."

     "Sounds like a pretty rocky way to start an engagement," chirped Kyoko.

     "You know it. Each of us was angry, and neither of us wanted to be told who to marry. We tended to take it out on each other."

     "That doesn't seem like much of a reason to stick around, let alone get married," Keiko said dryly.

     "It wouldn't have been, except that every now and then, the friendly girl that I'd first met would peek out. I didn't see her often, but I saw her enough to know that she was still there. Every time I did see her, it was like the whole world went away. Nothing mattered except that moment."

     "Boy, you have got it bad." said Hitomi.

     Ranma blushed. "I guess I have at that -- and you have no idea how hard it was or how long it took for me to realize that," he admitted. "But once the engagement became public knowledge, Akane ended up being angry with me most of the time. After that, things started to get complicated."

     "AFTER that things started to get complicated?!"

     "Believe me, it's the truth," chimed in Ukyou. "It'd take months to tell it all."

     "I'm gonna be looking forward to that," muttered Ryouko with a shake of her head.

     "Well, there's one thing that I still don't understand. How can she do this to you? You're a martial artist, aren't you?"

     "Yes, I'm a martial artist. My family and the Tendous are the sole practitioners of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu. It's a highly adaptive style of martial arts. The continuation of the school was the prime reason that Pop and Tendou-san arranged my marriage to Akane in the first place."

     "The continuation of the school? What, like some kind of family tradition or something?"

     Ranma sighed. "Very much so. I began my study of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu when I was barely old enough to stand. The Art was my father's life and, naturally, I was expected to follow in his footsteps. There was also the lure of getting to be the hero; fighting injustice, and protecting those who couldn't, for whatever reason, protect themselves. Every boy, I think, likes to be proud of his father, and think of him as a hero.

     "To truly master the Art, one must have discipline, and above all, control. You must control your body, your mind, and your emotions. The first is the easiest -- all it takes is practice. Controlling the mind is just a matter of focus; developing the ability to concentrate on what you're doing. You have to be aware of your surroundings in the most minute detail, but still be able to filter out any distractions. The hardest part is learning to control your emotions."

     "You mean like Vulcans do?" asked one of the women.

     Ranma smiled wanly. "Sort of. But the idea is not so much to hide your emotions as it is to channel them -- draw strength from them and yet keep them from controlling you, or your actions. As you are all well aware, anger can make a person act without thinking if it is not controlled. But used properly, that same anger can be a tremendous source of power. 'Chi', or life energy if you will, is amplified by strong emotion. If you can tap into it, and focus it, you have a valuable tool that no one can take away from you."

     Ukyou handed Ranma a soda, which he took gratefully. After taking a sip, he went on. "As I got older, I found out that there was a dark side to the Art."

     "Beware the dark side of the Force, Luke!" quipped someone from the back of the room.

     "My father," Ranma continued, with a heatless glare in the offender's direction, "did not always behave honourably, and it caused... problems."

     Ukyou choked on her soda. After a brief coughing fit, and a slap or two on the back from Ranma, she managed to catch her breath again. "Gomen, Ran-chan..." she gasped. Ranma flashed her a sad smile and turned once more to his story.

     "Pop's worst qualities were greed, and impatience. He could control neither of them, and as a result, there was constant trouble. It was Pop's impatience that resulted in this curse of mine." Ranma paused for a careful sip of his soda. "Of course, Pop got what he deserved on that front. I may turn into a girl, but he turns into a panda bear."

     "A... panda?" gasped Hikaru. "As in those big fuzzy black and white bears with the bob tail and the bamboo fixation?"

     Ranma nodded. "Pop knows his martial arts, but when it comes to anything to do with being a person -- let alone an honourable person -- he tended to teach with negative examples. But one of the things that he did teach me was that there was no honour to be found in fighting with women."

     "Well, there's at least one point in his favour," said Hikaru.

     "To be honest, in retrospect, I think that he said it because he was always getting into trouble with women. He and Akane's father both studied under the same master -- a twisted, evil little pervert by the name of Happousai. In their travels they incurred the wrath of LOTS of women.

     "Pop and Akane's dad were really close friends, despite all of that -- or maybe even because of it. They at least had the decency to feel guilty about what the master, and by extension, they were doing. Finally, they got away from him, and each led a relatively peaceful life -- well, peaceful for a martial artist at any rate. Pop married my mom and had me, and Soun had three daughters."

     After another sip of his soda, Ranma continued. "Their paths didn't really cross again until we got back from our training trip to China, and Pop took me over to Tendou-san's house, to seal the engagement. The rest, as they say, is history."

     "Some history." said Setsuna.

     "Well, it has one positive aspect, to be sure!" Keiko piped.

     "Oh, really?" asked Ryouko. "and what would that be?"

     Keiko looked at Ranma and grinned. "I'm willing to bet that it was never dull..."

     Once everyone had gathered in the gym, Ranma said, "Okay. Today I promised to teach some moves that you can use to start defending yourselves. Before I begin, there are a few points that I want to be sure get made. I'll be repeating these at the beginning of every class, because they are important."

     After the curious mutters died down, Ranma went on. "First -- I am NOT going to teach you how to beatt up your abuser."

     "But you said..." started a voice from the back.

     "I said that I'd teach you how to defend yourselves and a few quick disables. I am. I'll get to that in a minute. For now, though, you are in a position where your attacker has the advantages of strength, reach, mass, and experience. Those are going to be difficult for you to get past. It is possible to teach you enough to fight against that sort of opponent, but the level of mastery required can take years to achieve.

     "Fighting should always be viewed as a last resort. Most people will assume that fighting is what martial arts are all about. Some of you are probably thinking that even now -- it is a reasonable enough assumption to make. It just isn't true. The martial arts are about control. Discipline. Without those, a martial art means nothing. You have to be able to control your body, and control your emotions. Strength, and the ability to fight, comes as a consequence of that discipline.

     "Second, you need to be aware that if you are put into a position where you have to fight back, your primary goal is escape. If you resist your attacker, the chances are good that it will make him angrier and more determined. You need to be not only ready but willing to get away.

     "Third, the quick disables that I'll be teaching you are part of a class of strikes that are designed to give you the opportunity to escape. Some will do more damage than others; all of them will make the target mad. If you use them, there are two things that you must remember. Do NOT hold back; strike, and strike hard. And when you've struck, RUN."

     "Run? Run where?"

     "Anywhere. A friend's house, or to your mother. Perhaps to a market or restaurant, where there are people around. Someplace where you can keep away from your attacker. I cannot stress this point strongly enough -- the MOST important part of a disable-and-run maneuvre is the run."

     Ranma looked around the group. "Are there any questions? Good. Let's get started then. One thing to remember is that an all-out attack from your opponent can actually give you an advantage."

     "WHAT?"

     "Yes. If an all-out punch misses, it leaves the attacker off balance. Let's start with a demonstration of sorts. Keiko, do you remember when I asked you to throw that punch, but slowly?"

     Keiko nodded.

     "Good. Come here and do it again."

     Keiko moved into a ready pose and threw a slow motion punch at Ranma. This time, Ranma caught her fist as the blow was completed.

     "Now. Think carefully. Was it easy to punch me in slow motion?"

     "Of course! I didn't have to move very fast at all!"

     "Ahh, but was it really? For a second there, you looked like you were going to fall over."

     "Well, yeah, but that was just because I over-balanced. It was an accident."

     "Okay. Let's test that. Try it again."

     Keiko did as she was asked and, again, as her fist moved towards Ranma, she faltered before he caught her.

     "Damn," she said. "I don't know why I'm so clumsy today."

     "You're not."

     "Eh?"

     "Think about it. When you throw a punch, your whole body moves. Balance is motion. Even walking is nothing more than a controlled fall. When you hold back on your punch to slow it down, you are fighting your own body's momentum. Without that momentum, you lose your balance. Try this. Walk toward the end of the room. When I tell you, stop. Instantly. Just freeze, okay?"

     Keiko nodded and started walking. Ranma waited till she had just lifted a foot and called "Stop!"

     Keiko froze -- but stumbled as her weight shifted forward.

     "You see? Your body was expecting that foot to be there for support -- when it wasn't -- when that motion was disrupted, it disrupted your balance." Ranma turned back to the others. "That is the essence of a principal basis for many martial arts. You have to learn to use your opponent's motion against him.

     "Now -- what's better than blocking? Dodging. A block should be a back-up, in case the dodge fails. This is especially true if you're less interested in counter-attacking and more into just keeping yourself safe. It's easy, too -- just turn your hips to one side, maybe letting the leg step back as you do so. That'll give you greater stability."

     Ranma had Ukyou make a few attacks to demonstrate his point. As Ukyou would move in and throw a punch, Ranma would twist, or lean, to the side, and the blow would pass through empty space.

     "Now. The arm that swings forward -- raise it. In one position, the hand can easily deflect a straight punch away; in another, the arm itself can divert a strike off towards the outside. The most important thing is that a very narrow profile is presented to the attacker. Give them as little to aim for as possible."

     Again, Ukyou attacked, and this time, Ranma used his leading arm to deflect her blows as well as dodging them. When the demonstration was complete, he started showing each student exactly how to move -- to anticipate where the punch was goingg, and how not to be there when it went.

     Once they had all practiced a few rounds, Ranma showed them two disable moves. "Both of these particular moves assume that your assailant is a man," he said. "They can be very effective and will give you plenty of opportunity to escape. Just be sure that you do escape, because when he recovers from these, he is going to be pissed."

     After making sure that everyone understood those, Ranma called once more for attention. "One more thing that I want to show you tonight, before we go back to practice some more. The exercises that I'm going to show you are optional, but they will help. They'll help you develop your coordination, and your strength. You don't need any special equipment to do them, either."

     Ranma ran through two basic sets of kata, slowly, so that trying to make sure that everyone understood the steps. When he'd finished, a hand went up in the back of the room.

     "What was that?" the person asked. "It looked more like a dance than an exercise."

     Ranma grinned. "Dancing is exercise. But to answer your question, it is called a 'kata' -- and it really is very much like a dance. It is a sequence of stances, of positions, that is designed to build stamina and coordination. The better you are at the kata, the more fluid the transitions between those stances will become. Then we'll go on to more complex patterns, if you're interested."

     After stepping the group through the kata, Ranma declared an open practice session and settled back to watch.

     Ukyou came up behind Ranma. "What's the trouble, Ran-chan? You look disturbed."

     "Hmm? Oh, I was just watching Rei over there. She hasn't quite got the hang of the dodges and blocks I've shown them, but she stiffens up and shies away whenever I try to help her."

     "Maybe she's scared of you," Ukyou said softly.

     "Yah. That's kind of what I was afraid of." Ranma sighed. "Ucchan... get me a cup of water, will you please?"

     Ukyou smiled warmly and got him the water. With another sigh, Ranma tipped the cup over his head and changed. She was just grateful that most of the other women were too wrapped up in their own practice to take much notice.

     Ranma went over and tapped Rei on the shoulder. "Here," she said gently. "Let me help you with that."

     Rei stiffened at the contact and spun to face Ranma. Her eyes went wide as she noticed that Ranma was no longer quite so much taller than she was. She blinked, but allowed Ranma to guide her through the first set of exercises. By the end of the set, the tension had left her, and she was starting to get the moves down correctly.

     The rest of the class had broken off their repetitions of the exercise and were gathering around to watch as Ranma guided Rei through each of the kata. After the third repetition, Ranma was satisfied that Rei had gotten the idea.

     "Your masculinity is very important to you, isn't it?" Rei asked.

     Her voice was so soft that Ranma almost missed the question. That, and Rei so seldom took any active part in group discussions that her asking caught her off guard. Ranma nodded mutely.

     "I thought so." Rei turned to Ranma and bowed. "Thank you."

     Ranma tugged at her pigtail, embarrassed, and smiled nervously. "No worries," she said. Rei actually smiled.

     Ranma looked around and noticed that everyone else had gathered around them. She turned red for a moment, and then stammered, "Okay... that's enough for tonight, people. Next time, I'll show you a new set of blocks and two more disables."

     Slowly the group began to disperse. While there had still been a few disbelieving stares from some of the women, Ranma was relieved to note that no one had commented on her 'change.' At least it was worth it, Ranma thought as she watched Rei leave.

     "I don't know how you did it, but thank you." Ranma jumped. She had been watching Rei so intently that she had not even heard Kimiko approach. It was a good thing that her father hadn't seen that; she'd never have heard the end of it.

     "What do you mean?" asked Ranma.

     "Rei. I was beginning to despair of ever reaching her."

     "What happened to her?" Ranma asked softly, after the rest of the group had left.

     "Rei's abuse started years ago with her father."

     "Her father beat her?"

     "Not at first. At first, it was just emotional abuse. But as Rei got older, it turned sexual. The violence didn't start until she got old enough to understand what was being done to her and to say 'No.'"

     "You mean... you mean..." Ranma felt sick. "Oh my god."

     "I don't think that she's ever known a truly kind man before."

     Ranma looked down at herself and sighed. "I'm not so sure that she knows one now."

     Kimiko put a comforting arm across the redhead's shoulders. "She knows, Ranma. She knows."

     Ranma was walking down the street towards the shopping district when a shout caught his attention. "Saotome!"

     Oh, bugger, thought Ranma. Not him again. He spun and dropped into a defensive crouch. "What is it this time, Ryouga?"

     Ryouga strode up to where Ranma was waiting, but he made no move to attack. Ranma eyed him quizzically and maintained a ready stance. The lost boy sighed and shook his head. "Relax, Ranma. I'm not here to fight with you."

     Still a bit suspicious, Ranma notched back to Defcon 2. "You're not?"

     Ryouga shook his head and tried his best to radiate an air of peace and good will. "Nope. Not anymore."

     Ranma finally allowed himself to relax and straightened up. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but the last time we spent any time together, you were trying to kill me. Why the sudden change?"

     An odd look crossed Ryouga's face. He shrugged and said, "I just got tired of it. What's past is past, and killing you wouldn't change it."

     "Ah," said Ranma. "So. How have you been? It's been a while since I've seen you around."

     "Oh, well enough. I was home last month for a while, and since then, I've been all over."

     "Yah, I'll bet. Still no sense of direction, eh?"

     Ryouga shrugged again. "It really hasn't been as important to me anymore. Traveling isn't so bad when you can take the time to enjoy the scenery." He paused. "So. How is Akane?"

     Ranma's defenses snapped back up. "We're still married, if that's what you're asking."

     Ryouga made a pacifying gesture. "No, no... Don't worry. I know that Akane was never meant to be mine. I learned that even before the two of you were married. I was just too stubborn to admit it."

     "So you've given up on her?"

     "Given up on being anything more than just her friend, yes. I still care about Akane, but she is not the one for me. I know that. So. How is she?"

     "Well, you know how she is. She hasn't really changed much," said Ranma.

     Ryouga winced. "I'm... sorry to hear that," he said.

     "And what's that supposed to mean?"

     "Hey, take it easy, Ranma. All I meant was that I had hoped that her temper would have mellowed a bit. It's hard to be happy if you're angry all the time. Believe me, I know."

     Ranma studied his former rival carefully. He looked sincere enough. "I guess you would at that," Ranma conceded at last. "So what's the secret?"

     "I don't really know. I just... decided that I didn't want to be angry any more. It was taking too much of my time -- too much of my energy. I'm sorry that I can't give you more than that."

     It was Ranma's turn to shrug. "I never thought it would be easy."

     "You know, it might help if you each found someone to talk to. If there's anyone that you can discuss this with, it might at least let you get a fresher perspective on the problem."

     Ranma hesitated.

     "If you want, I'd be willing to listen. I know that we haven't always gotten along, but neither of you are going to be really happy until you get past this."

     "Thanks, Ryouga. I appreciate the offer. I'll... I'll think about it, okay?"

     "I understand," nodded Ryouga.

     "Hey! Why don't you drop by the dojo sometime? I know that Akane would be happy to see you."

     "Thanks... I'll try to do that."

     "Good. Just be careful about cold water, eh? It took Akane a long time to get over P-chan's disappearance. I'd really hate to see all that start up again."

     "I'm sorry about that. But I had to go. It wasn't good for her for me to stay."

     "Yah, I know. You did the right thing, Ryouga. Sometimes... there are times when I wish that P-chan was still there, if only because it gave Akane some pleasure, but if she had discovered your curse..."

     Ryouga shuddered. "I know. Look. I gotta go now, but I'll try to get by the dojo soon, okay?" He stuck out a hand.

     After a second, Ranma took it and they shook. "Take care of yourself, P-chan."

     Ryouga turned and started walking off. "And you Ranma. Take care of Akane."

     When meeting night rolled around again it was raining. By the time that Ranma and Ukyou got to the Civic Centre, both were soaked to the skin, and Ranma was, of course, in female form. Squelching past the refreshment table to get cups of hot tea, they made their way to an opening in the circle, found a pair of vacancies, and sat down.

     As Ranma was sipping her tea, she noticed that Rei was looking at her with a concerned expression. She smiled at the girl and shrugged. "It's okay. I don't mind it so much when I'm around friends." Rei blinked and a ghost of a smile crossed her face.

     Hikaru was telling the group about the events of her past week. "My husband's sister, Nanami, was in town on business, so naturally she stayed with us. It was an education, I can tell you!"

     "An education?" asked Kimiko. "What sort of education?"

     "Well, I learned an awful lot about my husband. I'd never realized just how little I knew about him when we married."

     "Ouch," winced Misato.

     "Ouch is right," Hikaru sighed. "Seems that he was a jerk when he was younger too. I'm sure that some of it is just the natural bias of a younger sister's viewpoint, but I doubt that all of it is.

     "For example, I'd known that he was president of his class in high school -- what I hadn't known was that he bought the votes of a lot of the school clubs to get it -- with school money no less. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

     Shaking her head, Hikaru continued, "He apparently had a reputation as quite a bully. Not just that he'd beat up on people that he didn't like, but he'd also attack them indirectly. He'd try and ruin their reputations, or their relationships... he was NOT a nice person."

     "Damn," said Hitomi. "I'm sorry, Hikaru. I guess that once the apple rots, it stays rotten."

     "Eh? What does fruit have to do with anything?" asked a confused Ryouko.

     "I think she meant that you could expect an abusive husband to have been a bully when he was a kid."

     Hitomi was nodding her head. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant! What it really boils down to is that abusers are all just big bullies!

     "Whoa. I think that you're making a mistake there. It's dangerous to just assume that abusers are all bullies."

     "What makes you say that, Ranma? It seems logical to me."

     "Well, I can't claim any expertise about abusers, but I know bullies. A bully at least has the virtue of being predictable. For example, a bully won't pick on someone that can defend himself."

     "Why not? I thought bullies were just mean."

     "They are. But a bully is a coward. For whatever reason, they feel threatened, and the only way they can assert their superiority, the only way they can prove their own worth, is with violence."

     "THEY feel threatened?" Makoto huffed.

     "Yup. Deep down, people who are bullies generally feel like they're inferior. Whether it's true or not really doesn't matter; it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. They feel insecure, like they are trapped in a corner. Like any trapped animal, they lash out. They're scared. But they'll never admit it."

     "So what you're saying," Setsuna broke in, "Is that an abuser might have one or two specific targets, but that a bully is more inclined to pick on everyone that they see as weaker?"

     Ranma drained her teacup. "In part. Bullies will push the limits too. The more you let one get away with, the more he'll try to get away with. The trouble is that once he's gotten away with something once, he expects to be able to get away with it again. At that point, resistance can make matter worse.

     "The best way to stop a bully is before they start. Draw a line, and then back it up. Sitting back and taking it will only lead to long-term trouble."

     "Yes -- that brings up a question that I've been wanting to ask. YOU just take it from your wife. With your training you ought to be able to stop her any time. Why don't you?"

     "I wish I could answer you, Keiko, but the truth is that I don't know. That's one of the reasons that I'm here. To find a way to get through to Akane other than fighting her."

     After a quick trip to the snacks table for more tea, Ranma went on. "I suppose that a part of it comes from the way that I was brought up -- men should not fight women. I realize that involves an 'outdated gender stereotype,' but it's one that is very deeply ingrained."

     "Well, that's one stereotype that I can't say I'd mind being more common," said Misato.

     Natsumi asked, "Have you never fought a woman?"

     "Oh, yes, I have. But only when it was absolutely necessary."

     Keiko was incredulous. "Your wife literally beats you to within an inch of your life, and you don't consider it necessary to fight back?"

     "If I've had to fight a girl, I've never been able to fight my hardest, to really put my heart into it. I just can't. It's cost me a few fights, but the only times that I could ever manage to set that aside were those when someone was threatening Akane -- or Ukyou here."

     "But what if you were a girl at the time? Wouldn't you be able to fight her -- or at least defend yourself then?"

     "Look. Just cause I've got this body... this curse, that don't make me a girl!" Ranma sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. What I am at the time, be it girl or boy, really doesn't make any difference. I was brought up to think that fighting girls wasn't honourable.

     "Besides, Akane is my wife. I can't fight her. It's wrong to fight with a person that you love, a lesson that it took me a long time to learn. Akane and I used to fight all the time -- not with blows, but with words. I was too stubborn to tell her how I felt about her, and I almost lost her several times because of it. I can not -- WILL not -- take that chance again. She is too important to me."

     "But stopping her from hitting you... can that really be considered fighting?" asked Keiko.

     "I dunno." Ranma shuddered. "I tried it once. I will never forget the expression on her face -- I've never seen such hate in her eyes, and I don't ever want to see that look on her face again."

     "You know, there may come a time when you don't have any choice. You'll have to fight back."

     Ranma looked glum. "Yes, I know. I'm just praying that it will never come to that. If it does, I'll lose her for certain."

     "What do you mean by that?"

     "I mean that I can't do it." Ranma sagged and looked away. "The one time that I did stop a punch she threw, the only thing that kept her from breaking her own arms trying to hit me some more was the fact that she had promised to listen to me. If I had to fight her, she would not stop until I had hurt her badly. I would rather die than do that." The last was a bare whisper.

     After a long moment of silence, Miyuki piped up. "Well, I for one, have some good news! My husband is going in for counseling... He's going to get help at last."

     "That is great news! How'd it happen?" Ranma asked, glad for the change of subject.

     "You did it, Ranma!"

     "Me? What'd I do?"

     "Well, when I was telling him what you said about his drawings, I mentioned your name..." She looked at her guiltily but Ranma just waved it aside. Relieved, she continued. "He said that 'Ranma' was an odd name for a girl. I told him you were a boy and that seemed to surprise him. He was real thoughtful for rest of day.

     "Then, just last week, he told me that he had made an appointment with a counselor." Miyuki's tone became apologetic. "He said that if a martial arts instructor could go to a support group for help because his wife was beating him, then he could admit that he needed to get help too..."

     That drew a few snickers from various members of the group. Ranma turned bright red for a moment, then fought down her embarrassment. She even managed a good-natured snicker of her own. After all, she reflected, the important part was that Miyuki's husband was going for help.

     Kasumi had made a special dinner. Ranma's parents had come to visit, and she was determined that the evening would go well. She had already asked Ranma to be on his best behaviour, and Akane as well. Still, when the families had gathered around the table a tension permeated the atmosphere like an electrostatic charge.

     Ranma's father was as colourful as ever at the dinner table. He ate like a man starved. Ranma, by contrast, was quiet, sedate even. Genma's chopsticks flashed and snagged a morsel from his son's plate. Ranma didn't so much as blink -- let alone move to stop him. Again and again Genma stole food from his son's plate, and each theft attracted no more attention than the last.

     Finally, Genma's frustration got the better of him. "Dammit boy, at least defend yourself!" His chopsticks flashed once more towards Ranma's plate, but he got nothing this time. Indeed, he only got back half of each chopstick - they had been sheared neatly in two. Genma blinked. He would have sworn that Ranma never moved. Indeed, as far as he could tell, Ranma was still ignoring him.

     "Cheeky boy!" Genma grabbed his son by the front of his shirt and tossed him out of the house and into the garden pond.

     As the surface of the water calmed, Ranma hauled herself out of the pool and walked back into the house, pausing briefly at the table to bow and say, "Please excuse me." She headed for the bathroom without another word.

     The Tendous and the Saotomes were left to exchange puzzled glances over the table. There was a sharp clack as Nodoka slapped her own chopsticks onto the table. With a glare for her husband that would have killed smarter men, she excused herself and followed after her son. The rest of the family finished their meal in silence.

     Nodoka caught up with her quarry in the bathroom. Coming up behind the still-dripping redhead she asked gently, "Ranma. What is wrong?"

     Ranma tensed but did not turn to face her parent. "Nothing, Mother."

     "Do not lie to me, Ranma. It is disrespectful. Is it your father?"

     "No. Nothing like that."

     "Then what is it? I'm your mother. Surely you can tell me."

     Ranma stood, wringing the pond water out of her pigtail as she considered her answer. "It's Akane," she said at last.

     "I noticed there was some... tension at the dinner table. She seemed to me to be angry."

     "I imagine that she was. She's almost always angry now. I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried everything that I can think of, but I just can't get her to smile."

     "You've been fighting with her again, haven't you?"

     "No."

     "Ranma..."

     "No!" Ranma turned to face her mother, a haunted look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, mother. But I haven't been fighting with Akane. I swear that I haven't!"

     "That makes no sense, son. Why would she be so angry if you have not been fighting?"

     "I wish I knew," said Ranma miserably. "Maybe then I could fix it."

     Nabiki found Kasumi in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Akane was in the dojo, Soun and Genma were playing shogi on the veranda, and Nodoka had gone after Ranma, so the two of them were alone.

     "Kasumi -- you got a minute?"

     "Of course, Nabiki... what can I do for you?"

     "It's about Akane and Ranma..."

     Kasumi looked sad. "Yes, I thought that it might be..."

     "I'm... worried about Ranma. Did you see the way he was eating tonight?"

     "I didn't see anything wrong with the way he was eating."

     "That's just it! He was eating properly -- his manners were perfect!"

     Kasumi blinked. "And this is a bad thing?"

     "No, it's just not the Ranma that I know! It didn't really hit me 'til I saw Uncle Genma again, but Ranma hasn't been eating all that much lately, either. He used to inhale his food as fast as you could put it in front of him, but now..." Nabiki shook her head. "I can't even remember the last time I saw him finish the first portion that you served him."

     Kasumi smiled. "Really, Nabiki, he's just maturing. Acting more like a responsible adult."

     "Kasumi, he's losing weight, and he looks like hell. Akane... she just won't let up on him, and he won't fight her. She's hitting him harder and harder, getting angrier and angrier with him, and it's starting to really scare me."

     "Akane will calm down -- eventually. She's a good girl, and she loves him. She would never hurt him deliberately."

     "'Deliberately' is not the issue! She drowned him once already -- was that deliberate? Ranma would have been just as dead."

     Kasumi frowned. "That was an unfortunate incident, but I talked to her afterwards... she was genuinely sorry that she had hurt him."

     "'Sorry' isn't the point either. The point is that she did hurt him -- and badly. The point is that she is still hurting him -- just as badly. She's out of control, Kasumi. Something has to be done."

     "I think that maybe you are overreacting a bit, ne? Akane listens to me. If I ask her not to fight with him, she will not."

     "But for how long? You've asked her that before. Even you can't keep watch over her all the time. Don't kid yourself, there's going to be trouble if something doesn't change soon."

     For a time the silence was broken only by the gentle sounds of water running over recently washed dishes and the occasional squeak of a towel on porcelain as Nabiki dried them and handed them to her sister to put away. Finally, Kasumi asked, "So you think it is time to interfere? What is it that you would have me do?"

     Nabiki sighed. "Honestly? I have no idea. But it's just not going to get any better on its own."

     Kasumi paused, and turned to face her younger sister. "All right. I'll take care of it, Nabiki."

     "Thanks, sis. I'd hoped that you might."

     Kasumi watched her sister leave, and shook her head sadly. "I just wish that I knew what to do," she said to herself.

     "I have a question for you, Ranma." Keiko sat down as the group was coming to order. "Just why is it that Akane can hit you? I mean, it's obvious that you have no trouble evading her attacks when you're sparring -- why is it so different when you're not?"

     "I guess the main difference is in her anger. When she's practicing in the dojo, she can usually keep her temper under better control. It's outside of the discipline of the Art that she loses her temper and something or someone gets hammered. Usually, it's me."

     "Can't you just avoid her attacks, like you've been teaching us?"

     "It's not quite that simple, Natsumi. Akane is also a trained martial artist. A good one. When I do come up with an evasion, it doesn't take her long to develop a counter for it."

     "I'd have thought that it'd be easier to evade her if she were so angry that she lost control," said Makoto.

     "Up to a point you'd be right. When she's that mad her technique goes straight to hell. On the other hand, her attacks get faster, stronger and harder to predict. To make it worse, the longer I hold her off, the angrier she gets, and the more vicious her attacks become."

     "And you can't just stop her?"

     "When she's in the middle of one of her rages, she won't stop. Not until she's ready. Physically, I could restrain her, but I'd have to hurt her to do it. Like I said, I can't do that."

     "Okay. How about another approach. Just why is she so angry? You wouldn't think that someone could stay mad all the time without a good reason."

     "I really don't know," Ranma said. "But Akane's been angry as long as I've known her. The first day I met her, she flattened me with the dining room table."

     "In God's name, why?" gasped Hikaru.

     Ranma looked sheepish. "That one was definitely my fault. Akane was the first to discover that I was a boy -- she did so by walking in on me in the bath. She'd been expecting to share the bath with another girl, so you can imagine her surprise. She ran off screaming."

     Several of the gathered women snickered.

     "Yes. Well. Once I got out of the bath and back into the living room, it was to find Akane raving about the pervert in the tub. She was not happy. It was also the first time that any of the others had seen me as a male."

     "That must have raised an eyebrow or two," agreed Ryouko.

     "Oh, it did. Pop explained the curse to the Tendous, and Akane, who hated boys anyway, was the one they chose to be my fiancee. She liked that even less."

     "And so she hit you with the table?"

     "Ahh... no. She stormed on about not wanting to marry a pervert. It really was more than I could stand, at the time. It had been one of the worst days of my life already, and to have her blaming me for her own mistake of walking in on me in the bath was more than I could take. I said something stupid, and then she hit me with the table."

     "What on earth did you say?"

     Ranma mumbled something, just barely loud enough for the others to hear, but not loud enough for them to understand.

     "I'm sorry... I didn't quite get that." said Natsumi.

     "I said," Ranma took a deep breath, "That Iwouldn'thavebeenspyingonher'causeIwasalreadyabetterlookinggirl..."

     There was a moment of silence. "You're right," said Keiko at last. "That one was your fault."

     "You said that Akane hated boys?" Kyoko looked puzzled. "Does she like women instead then?"

     Ranma coloured. "No, not in the way that I think you mean. Akane had a person that she was interested in -- an older man that she felt was more mature than the guys her own age."

     "I can believe that," said Ryouko. "But I don't see where that would explain or even justify the level of violence that she's demonstrated."

     "Akane was violent towards boys before I met her. Used to be that you could just say the word 'boy' and it would set her off. She'd been pounding the stuffing out of them since long before I got to Nerima. She used to have to beat up thirty or forty of them every morning, just to get to school."

     "You are kidding, right?"

     "Nope."

     "Exaggerating, just a little?"

     "Nope. Furinkan had more than its fair share of martial artists. The leader of the crew was a pompous blowhard by the name of Kunou Tatewaki. He wasn't a bad kendoist, he was just a little peculiar. It seems to run in the family."

     "Gallop, you mean," muttered Ukyou.

     "Yah. Well, Kunou had it bad for Akane, and so he told all the other nuts in the school that if they wanted a date with her, they'd have to beat her up first. So, every morning, they'd try. She'd get mad, and there would be bodies everywhere."

     "I take it then, that no one ever managed to beat her."

     "Of those clods?" Ranma snorted. "Not likely. You'd think that they would have learned after the first two or three tries, but no. It was a regular morning ritual."

     "Well, I can certainly understand why that might make her angry. It'd make me angry. But what did that have to do with you? Did you ever defeat her?"

     "Define 'defeat'," said Ranma. "I never really fought her. We sparred a bit in the dojo on the day we met, but all I did was dodge. At the time, of course, it was before I knew anything about Kunou and his idiot decrees. I'd just met Akane and she didn't know that I was a boy. As I've said, I don't fight girls. Still, Akane considered it enough of a 'defeat' to tell me that she was glad that I was a girl. That hurt, I can tell you. I think that was what made her the angriest when she found out that I was a boy."

     "Just when I think that I've heard it all, when things just can't get any weirder..."

     "That was just the beginning. It took Akane a long time to forgive me for not being a girl. Sometimes I don't think that she really has."

     Yuriko's tone was thoughtful. "You know... it sounds to me like your wife has a real problem with anger. Controlling it, I mean."

     Ranma nodded. "She still spends an awful lot of the time angry. I just wish I knew why. If I could figure out what it was that I was doing to make her so mad, then I might be able to do something about it."

     "Maybe it's not you."

     "It has to be me. I'm the only one that she ever really gets mad at anymore. I'm certainly the only one that she still pounds on."

     "That just means that you're the focus for her anger -- it might not mean that you are the cause of it."

     Ranma looked confused. "I'm not sure that I understand the difference, Yuriko."

     Yuriko took a deep breath. "Well, I'm just guessing here -- I'm not a professional, but I think thaat your wife might be suffering from what is called a 'rage disorder'. What you've been describing certainly fits the patterns."

     "A 'rage disorder'? What's that?"

     "Well, basically, a rage disorder is a bio-chemical imbalance that can cause a person to fly into extreme fits of anger over the least little provocation. Sufferers literally cannot control their tempers, and the level of anger that they exhibit is all out of proportion to the things that set it off."

     Ranma's expression grew thoughtful. "Interesting. It sounds like Akane, but I have to admit, I really don't see how that would make things any better. It seems to me like it'd actually make things worse."

     "One word, Ranma." said Yuriko. "Treatable. Rage disorders are treatable. There are a number of names for them, and a number of causes. I can bring more detailed information to the next meeting, if you'd like."

     Ranma's eyes went wide. "Please... I'd be very interested to see that."

     Yuriko smiled. "What is it you say? No worries."

     The walk back to the Ucchan after the meeting and class was unusually silent. Finally, Ukyou spoke. "A yen for your thoughts."

     "Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Ucchan. I was just thinking."

     "About what Yuriko was talking about? About that 'rage disorder' thing?"

     "Yeah. Do you believe any of that?"

     Ukyou considered for a moment. "I don't know, Ran-chan -- I'm no expert either. But Yuriko is rigght about one thing -- Akane does fit the profile she was describing."

     "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too."

     "You sound pretty happy about it."

     Ranma's tone was upbeat. "Yeah, I guess I do."

     That caught Ukyou by surprise. "Ran-chan! Why?!"

     "Eh? Think about it, Ucchan. If what Yuriko said was true -- if Akane really does have this rage thiingie, then there's a reason that she's been this way -- and it's not my fault! Even better, she said this thing was treatable -- that there was a cure!" Ukyou coulld almost hear the relief in Ranma's voice.

     Ukyou had to smile. This was more like the Ranma that she had known in the past -- optimistic, confident, on top of the world. Ranma had hope again, and Ukyou was hopeful that even more major breakthroughs could not be far behind.

     There was a laugh in her voice as the approached the Ucchan. "C'mon in, Ran-chan. I'll fix us both a treat."

     Ranma grinned. "Thanks. I'd like that a lot!"

     "Ranma, I have a question for you."

     Ranma stiffened, forced a smile, and turned to face his wife. "Sure, Akane? What is it?"

     "I want to know just what it is that you've been doing every other Monday night. You're gone for hours."

     Ranma had been dreading this question, but he had a well-rehearsed reply ready. "I've been asked to teach a basic self-defense course at the Civic Centre. It meets every other Monday."

     There was nothing in his statement that was untrue, but there was a lot that he didn't mention. As long as she asked the right questions, or didn't ask the wrong ones, Ranma was safe.

     "Ah!" said Akane, apparently pleased. "What are they paying you?"

     Right question? Or wrong question? Borderline, thought Ranma. "I, umm, sorta agreed to teach it for free."

     "Free?" asked Akane archly. "What possessed you to do that?"

     "Well, I had to. They needed it -- it's a matter of duty."

     "But what about your duty to your family? As a martial arts sensei your time is valuable too!"

     "But Akane! They need the help!" Ranma thought desperately. "Think of it as a community relations project. Besides, some of the people from this class might come to the dojo for more advanced training later!"

     Akane softened, but was not convinced. She took a step toward her husband. "And just who needs this 'help' so desperately, eh?"

     Ranma started to sweat. This was it. He could not lie. "Well, umm, y'see, there's this group that meets at the Civic Centre... It's kind of a support group for battered spouses... and... well..."

     Akane's eyes widened. "You're teaching a self-defense class to abuse victims?" Ranma nodded. "That's wonderful! I'm so glad that you're helping all those poor women! I'm proud of you, Ranma."

     Ranma blinked as Akane gave him a quick hug, and turned back toward the house. Well, he thought. That went better than I would have expected.

     The next Monday night at group, Ranma had just settled into his chair with a cup of tea and some cookies when Yuriko spoke up. She had a number of papers in her lap and was sorting through them as she was talking.

     "Ranma, I've been doing a little more digging since last meeting. I think I've found some things that might help you with Akane."

     Ranma almost dropped his tea. "Really?" he asked. "Yuriko! That's great! Thank you!"

     Yuriko smiled a bit at Ranma's enthusiasm. "Don't get too worked up yet, Ranma. Remember, this is only a guess on my part, and I'm NOT a pro. And even if I am right, it does not mean that this will be easy."

     Ranma nodded soberly. That was good advice. With an effort, he calmed himself and gave Yuriko his full attention.

     Yuriko spent a few moments more shuffling through her stack of papers before finding the one that she wanted. "Ahh, here it is... Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IEP) is often indicated by several discrete episodes of failure to resist aggressive impulses that result in serious assaultive acts or destruction of property. The degree of aggressiveness expressed during the episodes is grossly out of proportion to any of the precipitating psycho-social stressors."

     Ranma's eyes were glazing over. "Huh?" he managed intelligently.

     Yuriko grinned. "It took me a while to sort through all of that too. Basically, a person who suffers from IED or Rage Disorder becomes short-tempered and touchy about some subjects. He will most likely be angry much of the time. This is usually generalized anger. Rage attacks can be triggered by any number of sources which vary from person to person. The person may also have nightmares."

     "Oh," said Ranma. "That makes more sense. But... you said that it was a 'generalized' anger? Akane is usually only mad at me."

     "The key word is 'usually'... Rage disorder displays both general and directed anger. Rage attacks are almost always directed, and can sometimes even be directed at the patient himself."

     "And a 'rage attack' is...?"

     "Is just what it sounds like. A rage attack is similar to a berserker rage, but is not consciously initiated by the person. During a rage attack, the person has adrenaline-enhanced strength, speed, and stamina and will either not feel pain or will not be bothered by it. This makes the person almost unstoppable -- until he runs out of steam, at which point he'll feel as though he just ran a triathlon."

     Ranma looked thoughtful. "You know... that might just explain something that's been puzzling me."

     "What's that?"

     "Well, when Akane and I are sparring in the dojo, she can't touch me. She's never been able to come close. But outside of the discipline of the Art -- at those times when she loses that control, she's nailed me every time. Mom always said that it was because deep down, I knew that I deserved it -- but now I'm not so sure."

     "Yes, that fits." nodded Yuriko.

     "So what causes this?" Ranma asked.

     "Oh, anything can set them off," said Yuriko. "Usually, the trigger is associative, rather than literal -- though specific words or actions can certainly also be triggers."

     "No, that's not what I meant," said Ranma. "What I wanted to know was, do they know what causes the condition? What can they do about it?"

     "Ahh. Well, the short answer is 'no' -- they don't really know what the causes are." Noting Ranma's crestfallen expression, Yuriko added quickly, "They know of several potential causes, and all will respond to various forms of treatment."

     Ranma looked up again, hope in his eyes.

     "There were two causes listed in the references that I found. One is genetic -- it is incurable, but it IS treatable. Usually, it accompanies some other affective disorder -- like manic depression, panic disorder, or something like that. It is also the rarer form by far."

     "Ahhh."

     "The other is psychological. Most often, it occurs when a traumatic event in the past has been suppressed. The memory is beginning to resurface, but the subconscious still wants to repress it. The inner battle 'spills over' into conscious activity in the form of violent rages that occur whenever something gets too close to that memory."

     "So, what you're saying is that when something starts to remind them of this 'event,' they blow a gasket?" Ranma considered that. "But what would it be? Akane gets mad at me for LOTS of things."

     "It doesn't have to be a specific action -- it can be a thing, or a person, or just something about a person. The triggers are associative."

     "Associative?"

     "Yes -- a sound -- a color -- an odor; anything that the subconscious associates with whatever the person is trying to forget. It can be an indirect association, too. Say that event 'A' is the trigger. Event 'B' reminds the person of event 'A,' so event 'B' becomes an indirect trigger. Person 'C' is associated with event 'B', so there is yet another indirect trigger. Depending on how deeply nested the events are, it can be difficult to determine what the root causes really are."

     Nodding thoughtfully, Ranma asked, "So how can they treat it, if it's so hard to find the causes?"

     "Well, the genetic varieties are treated with medications. Usually, a combination of anti-rage and anti-anxiety drugs will be prescribed. Other therapy forms, like talk therapy, aren't really very effective, but can help that patient deal with the effects that their illness has on others."

     "What about the other?"

     "They'll most often start with medication to calm the patient down enough for other methods to take effect. But the drugs are strictly short term. They begin a program of intense psychotherapy to get at the roots of the problem and wean the patient off the medications as that therapy progresses. Once 'event one' is uncovered, and the person can resolve the issue, a permanent cure is not uncommon."

     Ranma's eyes widened. "Really? You mean... that Akane... Akane could be happy again?"

     "If she does have a rage disorder, then yes. The chances are good."

     "But how can I tell? How do I find out?"

     Yuriko looked sympathetic. "That will be the hard part. You are going to have to get professional help. An experienced counselor should be able to tell if it is a possibility, but you will have to get her there."

     "Counseling again. It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"

     Yuriko's tone was apologetic. "Counseling is critical to the diagnostic process, yes."

     "It's not so bad, Ranma," said Kimiko. "What you're doing now is a form of counseling. There's no shame in going to an expert when you need help. The hardest part is the admission that you do need the help."

     "Ahh," Ranma said, "So if I can get Akane to agree to go... if this is the problem, then there is a treatment, right? There's hope?"

     Yuriko nodded. "It won't be easy, but yes. There is hope." She passed an envelope to Ranma. "Here are copies of the articles that I have on the subject. Maybe they'll help you."

     Ranma took the envelope and smiled at the dark-haired girl. "Thank you, Yuriko. I don't know how yet, but somehow, I'll find a way."

     Ranma poked his head into the dojo to find Akane sitting against the wall, resting after her workout. He studied her carefully for a few minutes, but could tell little. At least she wasn't obviously in a bad mood. Taking a deep breath, Ranma walked into the training hall.

     "Akane? Have you got a minute?"

     Akane looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "I suppose so. Was there something that you needed?"

     "Yah," said Ranma as he sat down across from her. "I seem to have a bit of a problem, and frankly, I need help."

     Akane appeared to find that amusing. "You? You have a problem? What sort of problem do you have? Apart from that little matter involving water, that is."

     "This one is a little more serious than that."

     "Oh, really. Do go on."

     "Ahh. Well. You see, I can't seem to avoid making my wife angry... I don't know what it is that I'm doing to provoke her so, but whatever it is, I'd really like to fix it."

     "So," Akane's eyes narrowed. "You're saying that I'm your 'problem'?"

     "No! That's not it at all! I want you to be happy. I want to see you smile more." Ranma's tone grew wistful. "You're so pretty when you smile. I miss that. I figured that if I could stop making you so mad at me, I might get to see it more often."

     Akane glared at her husband. "Really, Ranma, that's not so hard. If you don't want to make me mad, all you have to do is stop doing stupid things."

     "Well, you see, that is the problem," said Ranma. "I don't know just what it is that I do that's so stupid. I've tried everything that I can think of, and honestly, I'm out of ideas. You won't tell me anything specific, so what am I supposed to do?"

     "It sounds like you're trying to make this my fault somehow..."

     "No! That's not what I'm saying!. I want... Akane... I want to go for help."

     "Go for help?"

     "To a counselor. Will you come with me?"

     "A counselor..." Akane stared at her husband for a long time. "And just what good do you expect that to do?"

     "I had kind of hoped that someone who was really neutral might be able to help us find out why you keep getting so angry with me. I just can't fix it if I don't know what I'm doing wrong. And no one will give me an answer that makes any sense. I don't know what else to do!"

     "What's happened to you, Ranma?" Akane's voice dripped contempt. "You used to be a fighter!"

     "That's not fair, Akane. I'll fight the devil himself, but I won't fight girls, and I sure as hell won't fight my wife!"

     "What's the matter? You think girls are inferior or something?"

     "No! I never said that! It just isn't right! Guys shouldn't beat up on girls!"

     "So you DO think that women are inferior!"

     "Why do you keep putting words in my mouth?! Look... all I want is for us to be happy together! Is that so terrible? Can't you see that?"

     Akane got to her feet and headed for the door. She paused on the threshold, and turned back to face her husband. "All I see is that one of the strongest fighters that I've ever known is turning to jelly right in front of me."

     Ranma watched her go and sighed. Yuriko had been right. This was not going to be easy.

     When Akane came in to go to bed that night, she found Ranma already asleep. Ranma was in girl form, curled up tightly, not quite in a fetal position, but close. It was as if she were huddled against the cold, despite the heat of the room. Every so often, a tremor would shake her, or a flash of pain would cross her face as she slept.

     Looking down at the sleeping girl Akane shook her head. Ranma had been sleeping as a girl more and more often lately. Akane wasn't sure why, and it bothered her. She could not remember the last time that the two of them had cuddled up together as husband and wife.

     There was a gap growing between them - a chasm that was getting more impossible to cross with every passing day. The worst part of it was that she had no idea what was causing it. There was just a distance between them now. Perhaps Ranma just no longer found her attractive. He didn't hold her like he once did, and the fire that had burned in his eyes when he looked at her was slowly going out. And now... now he would not even sleep with her in his natural form.

     Akane looked at the chain around the redhead's neck. She could just see the glint of the gold band that was Ranma's wedding ring nestled between the sleeping girl's breasts. She'd worn that chain ever since that morning in the ryoukan -- when she'd discovered that a ring sized for her male side was too big for her female body's finger.

     Akane wondered if now she just wore it out of habit. She looked down at her own ring -- the trophy that she had won, a little over three quarters of a year before. Was it really hers after all? Or had she been fooling herself? Akane wasn't sure. And she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know.

     Curling into a ball of her own, Akane cried herself to sleep.

     "Akane, do you enjoy being angry all the time?" Ranma was trying his best to keep his voice neutral. He had known this wasn't going to be easy, but he was starting to get frazzled.

     "Eh? What kind of stupid question is that?"

     "Is it that stupid a question? You've been so angry so much lately that I'm not sure what else to believe anymore."

     "Yes, it's a stupid question! Of course I don't like being angry! Who would?"

     "Then will you please help me to stop doing whatever I'm doing that upsets you so much?"

     "Just what is it you want, Ranma?"

     "What do I want?" Ranma asked bitterly. "I want you back! I want the Akane that I married, the one who would occasionally smile at me. I want the kind and compassionate girl who likes holding hands, ice cream, romantic movies, and walks in the park. That's what I want!"

     Akane stared at her husband in shock. "Ranma! What has gotten into you? I haven't changed! I've just been busy! I've been going to school, remember?"

     "Yes, I know that, but you have changed, Akane."

     "No, I haven't! I'm still the same person that I always was."

     "Really? When was the last time we took a walk together? When was the last time we went out for dinner, or even just a movie? I know you've been busy, but we used to be able to find the time. And then you get so angry..."

     "I get angry," Akane snarled, "because you keep doing things, and saying things that make me angry."

     "It's not the same! You're starting to scare me, Akane. Even you didn't get this mad all the time!"

     "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

     "It means that I want us to go and get help! It means that I want us to see someone that can help us do something about this. Someone that can tell us why you are so mad at me all the time!"

     "Are you on about that again? How is it my fault?" Akane grabbed Ranma by his collar and shook him.

     Ranma threw up his arms defensively. "That's just my point! It's not your fault. But we can't go on like this! I can't..."

     Ranma never got a chance to finish his protest as Akane started her attack. The last thing that he heard as the cool, sweet darkness of unconsciousness claimed him was Akane growling, "If it's not my fault then it must be yours..."

     Over the next couple of days, Akane started to wonder. There was something fishy about Ranma's recent behaviour. She couldn't help feeling that it had something to do with the martial arts class that he was teaching at the Civic Centre. It must be a damned intensive class, she thought to herself. He was gone for hours on those nights.

     And now there was all this talk about counselors and anger, and how much she had changed. Just where had all that come from?

     Something didn't add up. And just how had Ranma gotten involved with a group for battered spouses anyway? This was more going on than met the eye. She decided she needed to so some investigating.

     Akane placed a call to the Civic Centre. When the girl answered the phone, Akane tried her very best to sound scared and upset.

     "Nerima Civic Centre - to whom may I direct your call?"

     "Umm, Hi. My friend told me that there was a group for battered wives that met down there... could you give me a little more information?"

     "Sure! We have a very good group for battered spouses. They meet on the second and the fourth Mondays of each month, at six in the evening."

     "I thought that it was a martial arts class..."

     "Oh, that starts at eight! Runs 'til ten. One of the group members is the teacher, and he's very good."

     "Excuse me... but did you say 'he'? And that he was a member of the group?"

     "That's right. To the best of my knowledge, he's the first man that's ever joined the group, but he's well liked."

     "I see. Doesn't it see odd that a martial arts instructor could be a battered spouse?"

     A laugh. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But, no, I believe it. He's a heck of a good fighter, but I don't think that I've ever met a gentler individual."

     "He sounds great."

     "He is. Look, if you want more information, I can give you a phone number for the group moderator."

     "Yes, please."

     "Okay. you ready? Her name is Takahashi Kimiko..."

     Akane pretended to write the name and the number down, thanked the girl and hung up. So. Ranma was a member of the group. Why would Ranma have joined... and then those pleas to go and see a counselor... Akane's eyes snapped wide. Ranma... Ranma thought of himself as a battered spouse?!? Inconceivable! Akane could feel her blood beginning to boil. Worse, Ranma had been telling some crowd of strangers that she had been abusing him? And still worse, they had apparently believed it!

     Ranma would never have done that on his own. He'd never have been willing to admit that kind of weakness. Someone had talked him into it. There was only one person on the planet who Ranma talked to that much. Only one person on the planet that Ranma considered to be a friend above all others. Only one person on the planet who was too stubborn to see that all the trouble was Ranma's fault. Kuonji Ukyou. Damn her, but she was still after her husband!

     Akane had just worked her way up to 'seething' when her husband got home. Ranma walked into the living room in girl form and plopped down in front of the television. She reached for the remote, but Akane got it first.

     "Hey! I was gonna watch that."

     "Later. I think that we ought to talk a bit first."

     "Okay. What is it you want to talk about?" Ranma sounded hopeful.

     "I notice that you're a girl at present."

     Ranma blinked. "Yah, it's raining. So what?"

     "You've been spending an awful lot of time as a girl lately."

     Ranma shrugged. "It's the rainy season. Not much I can do about that."

     "Are you starting to think of yourself as a girl, then?"

     "No. No, I'm not." Ranma scratched her head, puzzled. "What are you on about, anyway? Is there something bothering you?"

     "Of course not! What would be bothering me? Why should it upset me that my husband -- the great Saotome Ranma -- master of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu -- tthinks that he's a battered spouse?"

     Ranma paled.

     "Why in the hell," yelled Akane, punctuating the word with a backhanded slap, "would you think that would bother me?"

     "oboy" said Ranma in a small voice.

     "You must think I'm formidable indeed, to go running off to a group of women for help!"

     Ranma scuttled behind the table. "Now Akane, calm down... please, let's talk about this..."

     "I AM CALM!" Akane shouted as she batted the table aside. "But YOU are gonna be in a world of hurt. How DARE you say those sorts of things about me!"

     "Akane, please!" Ranma brought her arms up in a gesture that she knew would be futile. Ranma never had a chance. Plea after plea was ignored as Akane pressed her attack. Ranma dodged as best she could, but there was no match for Akane's fury. Blow after blow got through her defenses until finally, after a crunch, a squawk, and a splash, silence once more descended like a pall on a little part of Nerima.

     Kuonji Ukyou was busily mixing up another pitcher of her special okonomiyaki batter when someone walked into her shop.

     "Irasshaimase!" she called, as she turned to greet her customer. The word died in her throat and the pitcher dropped from her nerveless fingers at the sight that greeted her.

     Ranma was a mess. Her fiery red hair was matted with blood, her right eye was blackened -- swollen shut, and the whole side of her face was red and puffy. Purple and black bruises mottled her forearms, and she was walking with a pronounced limp. There was a large bloodstain soaking into the fabric of her shirt just under her ribs, and her breath rattled in her throat. She hobbled painfully up to the counter and took a seat, wincing sharply as she sat down.

     Ranma smiled brokenly at Ukyou. "Hi, Ucchan... Do you happen to have any hot water handy?"

     "Omigod... Ran... Ran-chan!" she gasped, when she could find her voice. "What happened?!"

     Ranma made a deprecating gesture. "It's nothing, really," she said. "You should see the other guy."

     Ukyou scowled as she reached for the kettle. "Don't lie to me, Ran-chan. You know better." Her expression darkened as she passed the kettle over the counter. "Akane did this, didn't she?"

     "Now, Ucchan..." Ranma began.

     "DIDN'T SHE?" Ukyou repeated, her temper rising.

     After a pause, Ranma seemed to fall in on herself. "Yes," she said quietly. Slowly, she raised the kettle over her head, but hesitated shy of dousing herself. With a sigh, Ranma returned the kettle to the counter, still full.

     Ranma noticed Ukyou's surprised look. She shrugged. "What would be the point? I'll just end up in the pond again."

     Ukyou shook herself out of her fog and ducked behind the counter for her first aid kit. She came around front and took the seat next to Ranma. Rummaging in the kit for a few moments, she produced a large bottle of antiseptic wash, and some bandages. Quietly, she set to work tending Ranma's injuries.

     Ranma winced again as the antiseptic stung the abrasions on her face. "Ouch! Dammit, that hurt!"

     "Hold still!" Ukyou chided. "It's got to feel better than getting them did!" Ranma grumbled a bit, but complied. "You know, I really ought to take you to Tofu-Sensei... This looks pretty bad..."

     "I'm telling you, Ucchan, it's nothing, really... Ouch!"

     Half an hour later, Ranma looked a lot better, but she was still pretty sore. Ukyou went back behind the counter and cooked up a pair of her deluxe okonomiyaki and put them on a plate for Ranma.

     "Here," she said. "Eat this... you'll feel a LOT better."

     Ranma smiled her thanks and ate, while Ukyou mopped up the contents of the pitcher that she had dropped. Once the mess had been cleaned up, Ukyou sat down and gave Ranma a long, searching look.

     "Why?" she asked finally. "I have to know, Ran-chan. Why?"

     "I think it was because I insulted her cooking... I'm not entirely sure," said Ranma.

     "That is not what I meant, Ran-chan, and you know it."

     "I finally asked her about getting counseling. She... declined."

     "I know that Ranma. That was days ago. What did she do this for?"

     Ranma shrugged. The movement cost her. "Dunno -- I got home, and all of a sudden, she was on me about Monday nights -- I don't know what brought it all up -- or how she found out I'd been a part of the group. But she knew all about it."

     Ukyou winced. "I see that she didn't take it too well."

     "No," Ranma grimaced. "She did not."

     "So tell me. Why do you put up with it? Why do you let her do this to you? Why do you stay with her?"

     Ranma's expression was unreadable. "She's my wife."

     "And that gives her the right to... to do this?"

     "It's not that bad." The redhead sighed heavily. "Besides... I sort of have it coming, don't I?"

     "What in the HELL do you mean by that?" asked Ukyou in a shocked tone.

     "I deserve it... I must deserve it, or Akane wouldn't do it."

     "Ranma! Nobody deserves to be treated the way Akane's been treating you. There isn't any justification for... for this kind of abuse!"

     "You'd think that I'd have learned my lesson by now, wouldn't you?" Ranma smiled bitterly. "But no... My mouth is still getting me into trouble. I guess she has a right to be mad..."

     "But to brutalize you? You can't be serious! Won't you at least..."

     "I don't fight girls, Ucchan." Ranma's voice was gentle. "You know that."

     "Ran-chan, I'm begging you. Leave her! Go to China and live with Shampoo, enter a monastery, join the Foreign Legion, it doesn't matter; but you have got to get out! Get away! Get away while you still can!"

     A new voice spoke up before Ranma could answer. "Ahh, Ranma! Here you are!"

     Ranma stiffened as the owner of the voice walked in. "Hello, Nabiki."

     "Spending time with Ukyou again. And conspiring, no less. Tsk tsk... You know what Akane will say if she finds out, don't you?"

     Ukyou growled in the back of her throat.

     Ranma just sounded tired. "I don't have any money, Nabiki."

     Nabiki flinched. "I'm... sorry, Ranma," she said quietly. "You know I didn't mean it like that. She won't hear anything from me."

     Ranma turned to study her sister-in-law for a moment before getting painfully to her feet. "I guess that I'd better be getting back to the dojo," she said. "Thanks for the help, Ucchan." She turned to leave.

     "Ran-chan..."

     Ranma paused.

     "Please -- don't go."

     Ranma looked at the floor. "I have to... she is my wife... I made a vow." Ranma turned toward Ukyou and gazed into her eyes. "Thank you, Ucchan. You're a good friend. We... we can talk more about this later. I promise." After a final glance at Nabiki, Ranma was gone.

     Ukyou and Nabiki stood, each lost in their own thoughts, for several moments after Ranma left. Finally, Ukyou broke the silence.

     "Nabiki... What will she do to him?"

     "When she finds out that she -- I mean he -- was here?" Nabiki shook her head. "He's in for another beating, I expect."

     "Will he defend himself? Will he fight back?"

     "You already know the answer to that."

     The counter cracked under the pressure of Ukyou's grip. "Yes..." she said at last. "Yes, I do."

     Kimiko scanned the group, mentally taking roll of the attendees. Everyone had arrived, except for Ranma and Ukyou. There was still time before the meeting was scheduled to begin, and she expected them to walk in at any moment. She walked over to the refreshment table and selected a pastry and a cup of tea. Idly she wondered what Ranma would be teaching them tonight after the meeting.

     Kimiko was startled out of her musings by a gasp from Natsumi. "Kuonji-san! What happened?"

     Turning to see what Natsumi had been talking about, Kimiko stopped in shock. Kuonji Ukyou looked terrible. Her hair was mussed, her eyes were red and puffy, her face streaked with tears. A tightness gripped her as she also noticed that Ukyou was alone.

     Ukyou shuffled in and collapsed into a chair. She buried her face in her hands as silent sobs shook her. Other members of the group stood by, feeling helpless. Kimiko set aside her tea and approached the crying girl. Gently she put a hand on Ukyou's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Kuonji-san... Ukyou... Where is Ranma?" she asked softly.

     After several abortive attempts, Ukyou drew a shuddering breath and managed to get herself under control again. "Hos... hospital..." she said quietly. She sniffled a bit and wiped at her eyes. Miyuki sat down next to her and offered her a handkerchief which she took gratefully.

     Other members were gradually taking their seats, pulling them into a circle around Ukyou. One of them, Ukyou remembered her name as Misato, handed her a cup of hot tea. Drawing warmth from the cup, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself before looking up into a sea of anxious faces. "Thank you," she said.

     After another few moments of silence, Ukyou started to talk -- slowly at first, but with increasing inntensity as her story came pouring out.

     "On meeting nights, Ranma always meets me at my shop. I have an okonomiyaki restaurant over near Furinkan. We talk, I make us a light supper, and then we come over here. Tonight... he didn't show up.

     "At first, I thought he was just running late." Ukyou paused. "When I saw him last, he was in his girl form, and he had been very badly beaten. I think that a couple of ribs were broken, but he wouldn't let me take him for treatment. That was two days ago.

     "When he hadn't shown up by our normal dinner time, I was starting to get worried. Though my shop is between his home and here, I decided to go by and see what was keeping him. I wasn't too happy with the idea -- Akane and I... don't get along."

     "I would imagine not," agreed a sympathetic voice from the group.

     Ukyou's answering smile was tight. "I got to the dojo, and it was really quiet. Finally, I worked up enough nerve to actually announce myself and ask about Ranma." Her grim smile faded into a somber expression. "Kasumi answered the door, thank God. She seemed to be very upset. When I asked her about Ranma, she said that Ranma was in hospital -- that Akane had gotten mad at him again and had beaten him so badly that... that for a minute his heart had stopped...

     "She beat him because..." Ukyou fought back the sob that threatened to overwhelm her; "She had beaten him because she had smelled the okonomiyaki on his breath. She almost killed him because he had been with me." Ukyou wrung her hands in the handkerchief she had been given. "She beat him because of me..." she said again. This time she did not fight the tears.

     Kimiko felt her own tears threatening to burn their way out of her eyes. "Oh, Ukyou... don't do this to yourself. It wasn't your fault. You know that."

     There was a long silence from the assembled women. The only sounds in the room were the occasional broken sobs that managed to break through Ukyou's efforts at control.

     Finally, Natsumi asked, "You love him a lot, don't you?"

     Not trusting her voice, Ukyou could only nod her head as she cried.

     After Ukyou's tears had slowed somewhat, Kimiko spoke up again. "Why don't you tell us about it... from the beginning," she said gently.

     Ukyou nodded again, and wiped her eyes. Still sniffling a little, she began. "My dad and I traveled a lot, just like Ran-chan and his father did. Dad had a yattai; he made most of his living selling okonomiyaki. He taught me how to run a business, how to cook, and how to fight. He was very devoted.

     "I met Ranma when I was five years old. Both of us had trained in the Art since the time we were able to walk, and neither of us had ever really had any close friends before. For almost two years, we were inseparable. It was the longest time that either of us had stayed in one area, too.

     "Finally, shortly before I turned seven, Dad had a chat with Saotome-san. He knew how I felt about Ranma, and he told me that he'd fix it so that Ran-chan and I could be together for ever and ever. He offered Genma his yattai as a dowry, so that I could marry Ranma. Genma accepted."

     "You mean... you were engaged to Ranma? But what about Akane? Wasn't she engaged to him?"

     Ukyou's smile was feral. "That never stopped Saotome-san. Over Ranma's lifetime, his father traded him, sold him, or engaged him to lots of people."

     "No wonder Ranma dislikes his father so..."

     "What happened, then?"

     "I woke up the next morning to find that Genma, Ranma, and my dad's yattai were all gone. I was devastated. I couldn't believe that Ran-chan had done that to me. That he had abandoned me after all the time we had spent together. But for ten years, there was little else that I could believe.

     "I spent those ten years training -- honing my skills in the Art. I was determined that I would have my revenge for what Ranma and his father had done to me. I gave up my identity -- for all intents and purposes, the girl that was Kuonji Ukyou died on that day. I dressed as a boy, lived as a boy, attended boy's schools. And I trained."

     "My God..." Hikaru gasped... "How horrible."

     "Finally, after ten long years, I tracked them down. They had come here to Nerima and were living at the Tendou dojo. I found Genma fairly quickly and gave him the first of what would have been many thrashings. My revenge was at hand. And then, it was Ranma's turn.

     "But Ranma was glad to see me! I couldn't understand that... I had come there to make him pay for abandoning me all those years ago, and here he was, acting like he was glad to see his long-lost friend!

     "His father," Ukyou's tone turned bitter, "had never told him that we were engaged. He'd just taken Ranma and the yattai, and left me behind. Ranma, in all his infinite perception, hadn't even realized that I was a girl. It just hadn't been important to him when he was six. I was his best friend, and that was all he ever knew.

     "When he found out that I was a girl, he told me that I was cute. I couldn't hate him anymore. I tried, but I just couldn't. He was the same Ran-chan that I had loved ten years previously, the same Ran-chan that I still loved."

     "And after all of that, you would help him cure her? Help him keep her?"

     Ukyou shrugged helplessly. "What else can I do? I tried to keep him for myself. I tried to take him away from her. I don't really have a choice. He loves her."

     "Ranma must be pretty special for you to feel that way. I'm not sure that I could be so selfless."

     "Don't get the wrong idea," Ukyou sniffed. "If I thought that I could take Ran-chan away from Akane -- if I thought that he would come with me, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I'm honour bound as his friend. I can't do anything that would hurt him."

     "He means that much to you?" Rei squeaked.

     "He does. Ranma is one of the noblest people that I know, for all that he can be a jerk at times. Given his father's record, it's a miracle that Ranma grew up as well as he did. But there is nothing that he would not do, no price he would not pay for love, honour, or friendship."

     "I can't help but love him..." Ukyou finished in a small voice.

     Kimiko sighed. "You realize, don't you, that the hardest part is still ahead."

     "What do you mean?"

     "I mean that you might have to take him away from her after all. You may have to do what we call an 'intervention'."

     "And what is an 'intervention'?"

     "You may have to take steps to see to it that Ranma and his wife are separated until help can be obtained. Not only will you have to fight her, you may have to fight him. You'll have to convince him to come with you willingly -- convince him that things will not get better until there is some distance involved. It will NOT be easy. Can you do that?"

     "I don't know. Ranma can be very stubborn. You're right when you say that it won't be easy."

     "We'll help all we can. But it's you that he trusts. If it comes to that, and judging from what you've told us tonight it very well might, you are going to be the one that can save him."

     "I understand."

     That night, on the way back to her restaurant, Ukyou had a lot to think about.

     Ranma woke up, and immediately regretted it. Pain messages that had been queued up in his neural network flooded into his brain as soon as it came back online. There were a lot of them. Ranma tried to remember why, but the recent past was a total blank.

     After a few moments, Ranma tried to open his eyes. It took some time and a lot of blinking for them to adjust to the light. Even so, it was too bright to be really comfortable. As full consciousness returned, Ranma began to subtly probe his surroundings.

     He was in a bed. His chest felt like it was on fire, and there were needles in his arm. The lights were just a touch too harsh to be pleasing, and there was the god-awful stench of antiseptic in the air. Hospital, Ranma thought. I'm in hospital. But why?

     A low moan escaped his lips. His throat was dry and caked like three-day-old oatmeal. He extended a swollen tongue to lick parched lips. An arm holding a cup with a straw moved into view and toward his mouth. Gratefully, Ranma drank it all. The cup was withdrawn and refilled. Again, Ranma began to inhale the contents.

     "Easy... take it easy..." said a voice gently.

     Akane. Ranma choked on the water, his gasp for breath dissolving into a coughing fit. Once he could breath again, he choked out his wife's name. His voice sounded like sandpaper.

     "Oh, Ranma... I am so sorry..." Akane's tear-stained face hovered in the center of his field of vision. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I swear that I didn't..."

     Ranma studied his wife. She probably means that -- now, he thought. But she's said it before. And will she still mean it tomorrow?

     "Why?" croaked Ranma. "I was only trying to get help. I... I just wanted to see you smile again."

     "Oh, Ranma... couldn't you have just come to me and talked? I would have listened. You didn't have to go behind my back like that."

     Ranma's head hurt. She probably believes that too, he thought. "I'm sorry, Akane... I never wanted to hurt you... to make you angry."

     "I know, Ranma. I know." A pause. "Ranma? I don't want you to go back."

     "But... but why not? I like them. They... if nothing else, they can really use the training in the Art..."

     "Ranma, listen to me. Someone else can teach them the Art now. I don't want you to go back. Stay home and talk to me instead."

     "But... they're my friends. I gotta help..."

     "You did help them, Ranma. They don't need you any longer. And you don't need to go back there anymore."

     "I don't understand... why...?" There was a buzzing in Ranma's ears.

     "Because you're embarrassing me!"

     The buzzing grew to a roaring, and Ranma could feel himself losing his grip on consciousness. "But... but I just wanted... to get some help. I'm so lost. I want us to be happy together. I want it to be the way it was before... back when you smiled..." And Ranma fell back into the blackness.

     It was a lovely day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and despite the testimony of the bare trees that spring was still months away, the air was warm, and the breezes gentle. All of it was lost on the young man sitting on a bench in Ueno Park. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice the attractive brunette that sat beside him until she put her hand on his knee.

     "Akari! I'm sorry that I'm late..." he stammered.

     The brunette smiled. "Only two days." Her expression sobered. "Tell me, Ryouga... what's bothering you? You look so sad... it's like you're a million miles away."

     "Do you remember Saotome Ranma?"

     Akari nodded, a delighted smile crossing her features. "I certainly do. If it weren't for him, I might never have found the man of my dreams." She patted Ryouga affectionately.

     Ryouga nodded. "Yes, I suppose I do have him to thank for that."

     "Is there something wrong with Ranma? He's okay, isn't he?"

     "No, he's not. He's in the hospital."

     "What happened?"

     "I'm not entirely sure. Ukyou didn't have too many details, but she was sure that it was Akane that was responsible."

     "Akane?" Akari was incredulous. "You can't seriously believe that."

     Ryouga was silent, but that silence spoke volumes.

     "You're telling me that Akane... that Akane..."

     "Beats the living hell out of Ranma? Yes. I suppose that I am."

     "But... but... why? Ranma's so nice!"

     "At first, she did it because he deserved it. Now, don't look at me like that... it's true! Ranma was always making her miserable. He was always teasing her, and while I can't say that he was exactly chasing other women, he certainly wasn't fighting them off. It was no wonder that she would get angry, or that she wouldn't believe that he cared for her."

     "But he does! Anyone can see it..."

     Ryouga nodded miserably. "Yes... Ranma's fought for her, time and again. No matter what the odds, if it was for Akane, he'd fight -- and he'd win. Every time, he'd win. And she loves him too. I know she does."

     "But that doesn't make sense! Why would she still do that to him if she loves him?"

     "Akane has quite a temper, and Ranma has a knack for setting it off. But it's never been this bad before. That's what I can't understand. Ukyou has to have been imagining things... That's all there is to it. Akane would never do that intentionally. Yes, that's it. It was all an accident that got blown out of proportion. Ukyou has never really liked Akane that much... she must be overreacting to something small."

     An image drifted through Ryouga's memory -- an image from a small pig's point of view. Akane beating on Ranma -- beating him until his defenses had collapsed, and then continuing to pound on him without even slowing down. With a shudder, Ryouga whispered to himself again. "It's just Ukyou's imagination..." It sounded hollow even to him.

     A small group of women was gathering in the hallway outside of Ranma's room in the hospital. Not everyone from the support group had been able to get there, but Kimiko was there with Hikaru and Natsumi in tow, and Rei was there as well. Keiko and Miyuki were the last to join the group.

     Once everyone had arrived, Kimiko knocked on the door. The voice that answered her knock was soft and listless. "Come in."

     Ranma was alone in the room, lying back and staring at the ceiling. A half-dozen tubes ran from his body to machines on the console behind his bed. Most of the lights were green, but there were one or two yellow, and even one red.

     His visitors fanned out around the bed. Ranma smiled at them and tried to sit up. A grimace crossed his face, and two of the green lights went yellow, while one of the yellow went red. The machine started beeping softly. Ranma gave up and lay back down, opting this time to raise the head of the bed.

     "Well. Hello," he said at last.

     "Hi, yourself." Kimiko said gently. "You missed the last meeting. We decided that we'd better check up on you."

     Group night! He'd forgotten all about that. He tried to sit up again, earning another electronic fit from the hardware behind him. "Oh, damn. Ukyou! Is she all right?" Ranma started to reach for the tubes in his arm.

     Kimiko put a restraining hand on his. "She's okay, Ranma. She's worried about you of course, but she's okay."

     Ranma fell back onto his pillow and sighed. "Thank heavens for that. I was afraid that she might have had... problems. So. What news of the group? I'm sorry that I missed my class..."

     "Take your time and get well, Ranma. We want you back whole. I think that Miyuki has some news for you though."

     Ranma looked at the brunette expectantly. Miyuki smiled back at him. "You remember that you said Tochiro ought to try and publish his story?" Ranma nodded. "Well, he sent it off to Shogakukan. They bought it. It'll be published in about a month. He asked me to thank you."

     "Miyuki! That's great news!" Ranma grinned. "I'll look forward to reading it!"

     "I'll be sure to bring you a copy," Miyuki sniffed.

     There was a pause. "My God, man. What did she do to you?"

     Noting the worry in her expression, Ranma tried to reassure her. "It's nothing too bad, really. I'll be up and around again in no time."

     "Nothing?" asked Natsumi. She had been reading the chart at the foot of the bed. "According to this, she damn near killed you!" She tapped the clipboard in her hand for emphasis.

     "I'm a little harder to kill than that."

     Keiko snapped. "That's exactly the kind of macho crap that I'd expect from a man!" She brushed a tear out of her eye. "Dammit, Ranma, this is no joking matter."

     A nurse leaned into the room. "I'm sorry, but visiting hours will be over in a few minutes. You can come back tomorrow, if you like."

     "Thank you, nurse. We'll be going in a minute," said Kimiko. The nurse nodded and left. Kimiko turned back to Ranma. "We'll be back to visit as we can, Ranma. If there's anything that we can do for you, you will let us know. Right?"

     Ranma nodded meekly. "Yes ma'am. Thank you. All of you."

     The group started filing out of the room, but Rei and Keiko held back. Rei approached Ranma hesitantly, but determinedly. She placed a small vase on the table. In the vase was a single, perfect blue rose. "Please get better soon," she said in her usual whisper. "We miss you." She was gone before Ranma had a chance to thank her.

     A voice drifted into the room from the corridor. "C'mon, Keiko!"

     "Just a minute!" Keiko called back. She turned her attention back to Ranma. "I meant what I said, Ranma. This is too much. You must consider leaving her."

     Ranma sighed. "And what about you? Are you going to leave your husband then?"

     "Yes." Keiko's voice was little more than a whisper. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to."

     Ranma was at a loss for words. "I'm sorry..." was the best that he could manage.

     "Don't be. Sometimes it's just the way it works out. If I don't... If I don't leave him, then I'll end up here. Or worse. I don't want to see that happen to you either."

     "But I love Akane... I can't just... just leave her."

     Anger flashed through Keiko's brown eyes. "Dammit, don't you think that I love my husband? If I didn't, I'd have left a long time ago! I don't want to leave him, but I have to!"

     Ranma sighed ruefully. "I'm sorry, Keiko. I seem to have a knack for insulting you. I didn't mean..."

     "I know that, Ranma. But you can't help her if she doesn't want to be helped. Staying with her is not going to make things better. I love my husband too. But he won't get help. He won't even admit that there's a problem. I can't keep on that way. I just can't."

     "I wish I could help..." Ranma started to say.

     "Oh, Ranma. You have helped me. If it weren't for you I'd never have had the strength to do this. You've helped all of us, more than you'll ever know. Just let us help you. At least consider what I've said. Please?"

     Ranma nodded. "Thank you, Keiko... I... I will."

     Keiko left Ranma alone in his room with a thoughtful expression on his face.

     When Ranma was allowed to go home from the hospital, he was put on strict orders to rest for at least two weeks. Ideally, he was to stay in bed for as much of that first week as possible. Kasumi took it upon herself to see to it that Ranma obeyed those orders. To her immense relief, Ranma did not seem inclined to argue the point.

     He slept fitfully -- alternating between periods of violent dreamstate and periods of relative calm. The dreams must have been horrible, his tossing and turning punctuated with strangled cries; "Akane, no... don't... please... I love you, Akane... why? my fault..."

     Finally, Ranma's whimpers would fade into silence, and he would drift into a deeper sleep once more.

     Sitting by Ranma's bedside, Kasumi lost herself in thought. Ranma was sleeping quietly again -- a good thing -- he needed most of his energy to heal. Even for someone so naturally resilient as Ranma, his injuries had been severe. Kasumi was still having trouble accepting the fact that it had been Akane that had done this to him.

     Kasumi looked down. There was an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air while she tried to find the words -- the words that would make it all better -- the words that would bend reality to her will and restore peace to her home. The peace that had been shattered when Ranma and his father had come there to live.

     No. That was not fair. The peace that had preceded their arrival had been little more than an illusion -- a cloak that had hidden a much darker reality. Since their mother's death -- Nabiki's cold aloofness, her own oblivious acceptance, and Akane's anger and drive to fight. These were real -- these were what were surfacing again now.

     Ranma had served simply as a catalyst -- for every fight that he won against impossible odds, Akane remembered the one that she had lost -- the most important fight that she had ever known.

     She hadn't known what she was fighting, or how to fight it. She had been all of six years old. She had expected the shadow that came to steal her mother would be like another person and that if she were there -- if she were ready -- she could defeat the shadow and save her mother.

     But the shadow had come in the dead of night. While Akane slept, her tear-stained face buried in a pillow at her mother's bedside, the shadow had stolen her mother's life.

     It had taken the family months to convince Akane that it had not been her fault -- that there was nothing that she could have done, no way she could have fought the demon that had torn her family apart. There were times when Kasumi was not so sure that they ever had convinced her.

     Akane had recovered eventually. At least on the surface, she was a normal schoolgirl -- but she had become obsessed with the Art -- with learning to fight better. Beneath that surface there seethed a mass of raw emotion of tremendous power. Even Kasumi had not truly suspected its intensity until Ranma had come into their lives and had broken through Akane's armour. And, while it had let him in to her heart, it had also let the turmoil out.

     Kasumi looked sadly at her sleeping charge again. "You've certainly gotten through to her, Ranma-kun..." she said softly, "but at what price?" Gently, Kasumi changed the damp cloth that she had draped over Ranma's forehead. Once she was satisfied that Ranma was still sleeping peacefully, she settled back against the cabinets to rest and to think. The tears left silver trails along her face in the darkness as she wept.

     Ranma awoke to the feeling that something was wrong. The ceiling looked wrong. This wasn't his room. Then he remembered. It had been his room. His and his father's. But what was he doing here now? He tried to move, and the flash of pain that brought returned the rest of his memory as well. He had been in hospital. He had been there because...

     Ranma tried to sit up, and a groan escaped him.

     "Don't move." said a voice. "You'll have to take it slowly for a few days."

     Ranma lay back on the futon and sighed. Kasumi leaned over him and started to help him into a sitting position. Where had she come from, Ranma wondered. She looks like she's been crying.

     "Thanks, Kasumi," said Ranma, once he was sitting up. "What's the matter? Why have you been crying?"

     "It's nothing," Kasumi said with a smile. It looked forced to Ranma.

     "C'mon, Kasumi. Whatever it was, I'm sorry."

     Kasumi's voice caught in her throat. "Oh, no, Ranma. It's nothing like that. I'm very proud of you."

     That caught Ranma by surprise. "You are? Whatever for?"

     "For trying to get help. For trying to help Akane. For loving her enough to do all of that."

     Ranma sighed in resignation. When he spoke, his tone was almost bitter. "It's not like it did any good, though, is it? Akane doesn't love me. I've been deluding myself and making her miserable in the process."

     "Oh, Ranma... yes, she does. She loves you... She just can't, or won't, control her temper. Since you're closest to her, you get the worst of it."

     There was a long silence. Finally, Ranma asked in a small voice. "Are you saying that I should leave Akane, too?"

     "I don't know. You love her so much -- enough to do all that you've done -- and she loves you. I know she does. But I don't know if it's enough. I don't want to see either of you get hurt any more."

     Ranma winced as he shifted position. "It's okay, Kasumi. Really, it is. I just wish that I knew what I could do to help her."

     "It took a lot of courage for you to go to those meetings at the Civic Centre. That was a good start."

     "It might have been better if it had worked," said Ranma tiredly.

     The next couple of weeks were hard ones. Akane was keeping a closer watch on her husband, but he still managed to get a little time to himself. Whenever he was able, he spent that time with Ucchan.

     Ukyou was worried too. Ranma had basically given up. He'd refused to go back to the help group. When she'd asked, he'd said that he wasn't quite up to teaching his class again. That much was probably true. Ranma was healing fast, but he was still a little too stiff to teach effectively.

     Then Ukyou asked him why he wouldn't go back to the regular meetings, and he'd just said that he wouldn't feel right about it when he couldn't contribute anything to help. Nothing she could say would convince him that he had contributed in other ways as well. It frustrated her to see him closing himself off like this, but there was little that she could do. She could not afford to drive him away too.

     When Akane found out that Ranma had been to the Ucchan, he would usually follow up with a visit to Tofu's clinic. Tofu, too, was alarmed at Ranma's state, but had no more luck getting him to do something about it than Ukyou had.

     Ranma had more or less resigned himself to the inevitability of losing Akane. He didn't want to lose her -- he loved her so much that he was not sure that he could live without her. But he still had no idea how to get her to let go of her anger. Everything he tried had only served to make the problem worse, and so, he quit trying.

     Kasumi and Nabiki were both trying to keep a closer eye on their younger sister and would manage to walk in at awkward moments, when Akane was really starting to lose control. If their presence couldn't calm her, it at least had the effect of giving her a boost in the control of her temper. As a result, Ranma escaped the more severe beatings.

     An anticipation hung over the neighbourhood like the calm before the storm.

     Ryouga rang the bell at the Tendou home and stood fidgeting while he waited for someone to come to the door. Akane answered.

     "Hi! Come on in, Ryouga. It's so good to see you again!"

     "Ahh, no, thanks Akane-san. I'm afraid that I can only stay for a moment." Ryouga stammered, one hand behind his head. He looked acutely embarrassed. "I just wanted to talk to Ranma for a second, if it's okay with you."

     "Sure!" said Akane brightly. "I'll go get him for you!"

     "Doumo..."

     Akane disappeared into the house once more, but Ryouga could hear her clearly. "Ranma!" Ryouga's here to see you!" Ryouga cringed a bit at the sharpness of her voice.

     After a few moments, Ranma came down the hallway towards the door. As he approached, Ryouga could hear Akane's harsh whisper in the background. "...and behave yourself. I don't want you picking on poor Ryouga anymore!" Ranma looked annoyed, but said nothing. As he got closer to the door, Akane raised her voice once more and called after him, "Remember, Ranma, dinner will be ready in half an hour!" Ranma shuddered as he walked out the door.

     Ryouga looked Ranma over carefully. Ukyou had been right. The signs of his injuries were obvious to anyone who knew what to look for: in place of his normal fluid grace there was a stiffness to his posture that spoke volumes. Ryouga was dismayed to note that Ranma was still wearing his sleeves long as well.

     "Hey, Ryouga!" Ranma looked genuinely pleased to see his former rival. "How's it going?"

     "Well enough, thanks." Ryouga answered. "I dropped by to say goodbye. I'm going on another trip, and I don't know how long it'll be before I make it back here."

     "Sure you won't stay for dinner?" asked Ranma hopefully.

     Ryouga flashed him a dark look that faded quickly into a smile. "I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "I already have plans..."

     Ranma looked past his visitor into the courtyard. There was an attractive brunette standing by the gate, waiting patiently. Her white blouse, plaid skirt, and warm smile were unmistakable. Unryuu Akari.

     Ranma grinned. "You sly dog!" Then his expression sobered. "I hope that you two will be very happy together."

     "Thanks." Ryouga was still grinning. "I think... I think that we will."

     Ranma waved to Akari before he turned his attention back to his old friend. "Have a good trip, Ryouga. Don't wait too long before you visit again." Ranma started back into the house, but Ryouga gripped his arm before he could move.

     Ranma flinched almost imperceptibly and looked at him curiously. "Was there something else?"

     Ryouga peered down the hallway, as if to assure himself that there was no one else there. When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper, but he startled Ranma with its intensity.

     "Ranma... look. I know it's none of my business, but..."

     Ranma tensed. "You're right. It isn't."

     "Dammit, Ranma, I'm your friend. I'm... concerned."

     "You know, a year ago, you'd never have said that. You'd still be trying to rip my head off for mistreating Akane."

     Ryouga nodded, but did not relax his grip. "Things change, Ranma. It took a while, but I finally learned that. Ranma... please... get some help before it's too late."

     Ranma was silent for a long time. Ryouga was not sure what to expect; he was prepared for Ranma to fly into a rage, to attack him even. Instead, Ranma's reply was so quiet that Ryouga almost missed it.

     "I... I tried that already," he said softly.

     Ryouga was surprised. "You did? What happened? How did it go?" he asked.

     Ranma's smile was lopsided. "Not too badly... I was only in hospital for a week."

     Ryouga winced. "Ranma... you know how much I respect Akane... you know that I would never suggest anything that would hurt her... but you have to get away, Ranma. This isn't healthy. Please."

     Ranma studied his friend's expression. There was no hostility there, only concern. "And where would I go?" he asked, shaking his head.

     "Go? Anywhere! Come with us! There are one or two techniques of yours that I really want to learn."

     Ranma smiled a little sadly and said, "Thank you, Ryouga... that means a lot to me. But I can't leave her. I made a vow. I have to stay."

     Ryouga looked at the ground for a moment then back up into Ranma's eyes. "If..." he began. "If you change your mind, Akari and I will be in the kissaten at the corner from eight until ten tonight. Meet us there."

     "I can't. I'm sorry."

     Ryouga released his grip on Ranma's wrist and turned to go. "We'll wait for you... 'til ten o'clock," he said simply. He and Akari walked out of the compound, arm in arm. Ranma smiled wistfully to himself as he watched them go.

     As they cleared the gates, Akari squeezed Ryouga's hand. "Do you think he'll come?" she asked.

     Ryouga took a deep breath and looked back at the porch, where Ranma was still standing. "No, Akari-chan..." he said sadly. "No, I don't think that he will."

     Ranma walked back into the house and into the dining room. Akane was just setting the dinner things on the table. Ranma shuddered; he hated it when Kasumi was away.

     "So, what did Ryouga want?"

     "He just stopped by to say goodbye. He's going on a training trip -- he and Akari are going together."

     "Oh, how sweet!"

     Akane set trays of food on the table. Ranma was gratified to see that she had cooked curry. Akane's chicken curry was nothing to write home about, but it was actually edible. Ranma tried not to let his show of relief be too obvious.

     Ranma kept thinking back to Ryouga and Akari as they walked arm in arm away from the dojo. They had looked so happy -- so much in love. He looked over at Akane and found himself wishing that they could walk like that.

     Akane caught him looking at her. "What's the matter with you? Isn't your dinner good enough?"

     "Dinner's very good," Ranma said. "I was just thinking about Ryouga and Akari. It was nice... they looked so happy together. You should have seen the two of them."

     Akane nodded her head. "That's good," she said. "I'm glad that Ryouga finally found someone. He was always so lonely. And he's such a sweet guy. He deserves a girl like Akari."

     "You know... there was once a time when we were like that..."

     "What is it that you want. Ranma?"

     "I... nothing." Ranma's shoulders sagged in defeat. "It's... it's just that it's been so long since we really did anything together. Even a simple thing like taking a walk."

     "So what's your point?"

     "I was just wondering if... I mean... would you like to join me for a walk after dinner?"

     "Ranma, it's winter. It'll be cold out."

     "It's not that cold. And the sky is clear. We could go down to the river and look up at the stars."

     "I have a morning class tomorrow, Ranma. I have work to do. I don't have time to waste walking around in the cold with you."

     Ranma stared into his bowl, but he didn't see it. There was a loud snap as Ranma's chopsticks broke in his clenched fist. He looked up at his wife and, in a hoarse voice, he asked, "Akane... do you love me?"

     "What kind of question is that? I'm your wife, ne?"

     "It's an important one. Please. Do you love me?"

     Akane stared at Ranma in silence, trying to find words.

     "You can't say it, can you? In all the time that I've lived here -- in all the time that we've been married -- I've never heard you say it."

     "Ranma..."

     "There was a time that I thought you might... when we got married. You did marry me after all. And we had some good times together. We squabbled less... things were starting to get so much better..."

     Ranma looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. He was making no effort to stop them, weeping openly. Akane was shocked. "Ran... Ranma... are you crying?"

     "But it was all in my mind, wasn't it? You can't say it because it isn't true." He choked back a sob. "Why? Why didn't you say something? You could have been free. You didn't have to do what your father wanted, if it was going to make you so unhappy!"

     Ranma pushed back his dinner tray and got shakily to his feet.

     "Where are you going?" Akane asked. "You've barely touched your dinner!"

     "I'm not really very hungry right now," Ranma said. "I'm gonna go get some air."

     "But it's curry!"

     "I know. I'll eat it later, okay?" Ranma walked out of the dining room and down the hall. Akane heard him put on his shoes, then open the front door. With a final click of the latch, he was gone.

     Ranma wandered aimlessly, not paying any real attention to where he was going, and not really caring. What did it matter, after all?

     The air was cool, the sky was clear, and there was a stiff breeze that tugged at the loose fabric of his shirt. The streets were quiet; most people were at home, eating their dinners or spending time with their loved ones. Ranma was beginning to regret not being like most people.

     Before too long, Ranma found himself down by the river, under his favourite bridge. He often came here when he was upset. As water was attracted to him, so he was attracted to the water -- drawing strength and comfort from its quiet power. He dropped to his haunches on the grassy bank and stared into the depths.

     The river was swollen with the runoff from recent rains, its surface roiling and turbulent. Small whitecaps were visible as the wind whipped across rapidly moving wavelets. The normally placid waters looked to be as troubled as Ranma felt. He would find no peace here today.

     Ranma stood and resumed walking. As darkness fell, the streetlamps came to life, the transformers that powered them adding their voices to the sounds of the evening. The neon lights on storefronts and restaurants cast multicolored shadows that blinked in and out with their flashing. People scurried about their business, moving quickly and silently as if eager to escape the encroaching chill.

     Ranma paused at an intersection as the clock on the building opposite struck nine. He was tired and cold and hungry, but his stomach was still too tied in knots to eat. Dropping onto a bench at the corner bus stop, he buried his face in his hands and fought down an urge to cry. He had done enough of that already.

     Looking up and around to determine his location, he was somewhat surprised to note that he was only a few blocks from the dojo. Most of the storefronts were dark now, but a warm light spilled out onto the sidewalks from the windows of the kissaten across the street. It took Ranma several minutes to realize that he knew the couple that occupied one of the window booths.

     Ryouga and Akari.

     Ranma watched the two for a time, grateful for the darkness. They would not be able to see him. Ryouga looked nervous, but happy, babbling away about who knew what, while Akari smiled warmly at him while she listened. For the first time since Ranma had met him, Ryouga looked neither angry nor lost. He looked content.

     But every now and then, Ryouga's smile would fade, and he would look from the clock on the wall to the door of the restaurant, and back again. It looked as though he were waiting for someone.

     The realization struck Ranma like a dash of ice water. They were there waiting for him.

     For an instant, Ranma considered running over and joining them -- taking Ryouga up on his invitation. A ttraining trip, to where Ranma didn't really care. Just a chance to get away.

     But he could not. Ryouga and Akari were happy together. They had been kind to offer, but they did not need him getting between them. Ranma had already caused his friend enough grief -- it would not be fair for him to put Ryouga's hard-won happiness at risk. It had been too long in coming as it was. He wished his friend well.

     When Akari looked at Ryouga it was obvious that she loved him. Ranma didn't think that he'd ever seen Akari get angry. A surge of jealousy flashed through him. It just wasn't fair! He and Akane could have been like that -- should have been like that. But all he saw in Akane's eyes anymore was bitterness and rage. He couldn't understand. If she hated him so much, why had she ever agreed to marry him?

     Maybe it had all been a mistake. Maybe the time had come for him to leave. If all he could do was cause her pain, or make her angry, it would be for the best. But the very idea tore at Ranma's heart. He hated the idea of quitting -- hated the thought that Akane could not be happy with him. Was there no other way? Surely there had to be another solution! He loved Akane so much -- if only he could figure out why he was making her so mad! Maybe then they could be more like Ryouga and Akari.

     A shiver passed through him that had nothing to do with the cold. Taking one last longing look toward the couple in the booth, Ranma stood and stretched. It was time for him to be going. With a sigh and a heavy heart, he turned and headed for home.

     "I might have known that I'd find you here." Akane's voice was ice.

     Ranma froze, his okonomiyaki halfway to his mouth as the hairs on the back of his neck started to rise. With an effort, Ranma calmed himself and turned to face his wife.

     Akane stood in the doorway of the Ucchan, her face a dark mask. "And just what do you think you're doing here?" she snarled.

     Ranma blinked. "Ahh... having lunch?"

     Akane started forward, intent on letting Ranma know just what she thought of his wise-ass responses, when a motion caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She stopped, and looking over towards Ukyou, noticed that the okonomiyaki cook had casually slipped out a couple of her small throwing spatulas. Ukyou smiled sweetly at her and shook her head.

     "Oh, no. Not in here you don't."

     Akane glowered at her but made no further moves towards Ranma. Trembling with barely suppressed fury, Akane turned back towards her husband. "Go home," she growled at him through clenched teeth. "I'll deal with you when I get back."

     "But Akane..."

     "I said GO!"

     Ranma gulped and looked towards Ukyou.

     "Maybe you'd better go, Ran-chan," Ukyou's gaze never left Akane.

     "But..."

     "It'll be okay, Ranma. Your wife and I have some things to... discuss."

     Reluctantly, Ranma headed for the door. He started to turn back, but a glare from Akane stilled him. Ukyou gave him a reassuring look from behind Akane's back. After a moment's consideration, Ranma surrendered to the inevitable and left the little restaurant.

     When Ranma had gone, Akane glared angrily at Ukyou. "Just what is it that you've done to him?" she hissed.

     The question took Ukyou by surprise. "Done to him? Done to whom?"

     "What have you done to Ranma!? He was crying at dinner last night! HE was crying!"

     Ukyou stared at Akane incredulously. "And you think... You think that I did something to him?"

     "You must have done. The Ranma that I married would never have cried! He was strong! He was a fighter! Being around you has made him weak -- taken the fight out of him!"

     Ukyou had held her tongue for Ranma's sake. She had gone out of her way to be civil -- had said nothing that Akane might construe as hostile -- while all the time watching the Tendou woman destroy the man she loved.

     But now, now there was no reason to hold back. Now Akane HAD to be made to see what she had been doing to Ranma, she HAD to be made to understand. Ukyou's temper flared and the full force of her frustration and agony burst forth.

     "Are you really that blind? That stupid? Can't you see how much he loves you? Do you have even the faintest idea of how much you're hurting him? You're tearing him apart, and you don't even care!"

     Akane whirled on the okonomiyaki cook, her eyes blazing. "And just what would you know about that?"

     "What would I know?" Ukyou almost laughed. "I know everything! When Ran-chan talks, I listen! And when he doesn't, I see!"

     "Really..." Akane's voice was sharp.

     "Really." Ukyou shot back. "I know that he loves you, though I'll be damned if I can figure out why. The way you abuse him is criminal; you know that he won't fight you -- that he can't fight you -- and sstill you beat him without mercy."

     Akane started to retort, but Ukyou cut her off.

     "You never listen to him, either. You just assume the worst and start in on him again -- you never give him a chance to explain anything! You act on the first thought that pops into that empty head of yours, and it's Ranma that pays the price for your impatience!"

     "If that's all..." Akane started.

     "Oh, I'm not finished yet. I'm just getting warmed up! You're so bloody primitive that the only way that you can think of to deal with a problem is to hit it. You hit Ranma all the time; does it make you feel better? Does it solve your problems? It would never occur to you to use reason would it?

     "If that weren't bad enough, when you find out that you were wrong, what do you do? Do you apologize? Of course not! You beat the hell out of him again because you didn't believe him the first time!"

     Akane was smouldering. "Now look here..."

     "I don't know if you're brain damaged, or stupid, or what. You do the same thing all the time, over and over again. Don't you ever learn? Does it never occur to you that he might be telling you the truth? Do you ever give him the benefit of the doubt before you pound him?

     "He worships you like some kind of goddess, but you don't seem to care. Feh. If that is the kind of love to which Ranma is doomed, then it would have been a kindness for his mother to have made him commit seppuku."

     "Are you quite finished?" Akane asked, her voice dripping acid.

     "I've said my piece."

     "Then hear this. Stay away from my husband. He chose ME. He's MINE. He's none of your concern. I don't want you anywhere near him, do you understand me?"

     Ukyou stared hard at Akane before answering. "Ranma is my friend. I will NOT abandon him. When HE tells me to stay away, then I will. Until that time comes, I intend to be here for him no matter what."

     Akane stood, fists clenching in fury, jaw tight. Ukyou returned the stare with a maddening calm. Finally, Akane spun on her heel and stalked toward the door.

     Not this time, Ukyou thought. "Akane!" Akane froze, still facing the door. "Don't hurt him anymore. If you want to keep him, let him know that you love him. If you hurt him again, you are going to regret it. I promise you that. By all that's holy, I swear it."

     Her back rigid, trembling in rage, Akane stomped out of the shop without looking back. Ukyou watched her go. There was going to be trouble. She could feel it. "At least she used the door this time," Ukyou muttered to no one in particular.

     Akane was livid. How dare that tart speak to her like that! After all the trouble that she had caused -- after all the time she had spent trying to take Ranma away from her, and here she was threatening to do so again. Telling Akane how she ought to be treating her own husband! What would Ukyou know about husbands? SHE had never gotten one!

     Of course, Akane fumed quietly, the one she's after is mine. That... that tramp would never be happy until she had taken Ranma for herself. And Ranma, damn him, was either too stupid to see it or was actually going along with it.

     After all, it had been Ukyou that had dragged Ranma to those meetings. It had been Ukyou that had started to poison Ranma against her. It had been Ukyou that had convinced Ranma that he had a problem -- that there was something wrong with his marriage. Everything had been fine until Ukyou had started her meddling.

     Now everything was in a frightful mess. Ukyou had just challenged her -- challenged her right in front of Ranma -- and here she was, running home, with her tail tucked between her legs, just like some stray dog. Why hadn't she fought? Why had she let Ukyou say those things to her -- about her -- without fighting back?

     Because she has that spatula, Akane told herself. Because Ukyou doesn't fight unarmed. But even if she'd had her katana, she didn't think that she'd have been able to defeat Ukyou. Ukyou was damned good with those spatulas of hers, and Akane simply didn't have Ranma's speed.

     Besides -- there was a quiet little voice in the back of her mind that was telling her that maybe, just maybe, Ukyou was right. She told the voice to shut up, but still it kept nagging at her. Remember? asked the voice. Do you remember when Ranma looked at you and all you could see was the love in his eyes? What do you see when he looks at you now? Do you see the fear there? Do you see the pain? Does it make you feel good to see that?

     Shut up! Akane snarled at the voice. What do you know?

     I know, the voice retorted, that you're losing your husband. With every punch, with every tantrum you throw, you are driving him further away from you. I know that if you don't fix things soon, you will lose him, just like you've lost everything else in your life -- just like you lost your...

     "SHUT UP!" Akane screamed.

     You're wrong, Akane told the silent voice. I am not losing Ranma.

     Aren't you? When was the last time you went out together? When was the last time that the two of you just sat and talked? When was the last time that you did anything but fight with him? When...

     "Last night!" Akane retorted triumphantly. "He asked me to go for a walk with him just last night!"

     Did you go? the voice asked her. A pause. Thought not. You're driving him away... and there comes a point when even Ranma will give up.

     "Enough! I'm the one that Ranma chose! Ranma still loves me!"

     Really? Why should he love you? What have you got to offer him? Face it, sweetheart, you're a mediocre martial artist at best, you can't boil water right, and even dressed as a boy, Ukyou is prettier and more feminine than you.

     Akane snarled again and picked up her pace in a vain attempt to leave that annoying little voice behind.

     Halfway home it hit her. Ukyou had challenged her -- and Ranma had not moved to defend her. It was true. She WAS losing Ranma. And it was all Ukyou's fault. Ukyou's and Ranma's. The more Akane thought about it, the angrier she got.

     Later that afternoon, Ranma stood behind the dojo, facing a practice target. A featureless concrete monolith, the target nevertheless seemed to Ranma to be staring back, almost as if it were mocking him. With exaggerated deliberation, Ranma began a kata that helped him focus his energy -- that helped him channel his chi.

     Ranma closed his eyes as he felt the energies building -- gathering -- concentrating. He faltered for a secondd as the charge accumulated, distracted by the pain from his bruised forearms. Angrily forcing the pain aside, he resumed the exercise. The flow reached its peak and, extending his arms toward the target, Ranma initiated the release.

     "Mouko Takabisha!" he cried, as the bolt crossed the space between him and the monolith.

     The discharging energy splashed harmlessly over the surface of the concrete, dissipating into nothingness. Ranma swore in disgust. If there had been a fly on the target, it would still be there. This was never going to do.

     Closing his eyes again, Ranma started over. Once more he began to gather his strength, building it, storing it like a giant capacitor until he would release it all in one concentrated burst. He drew strength from all of the positive things he could think of -- Ukyou's loyal friendship, memories of the times when Akane still smiled, the way his heart had soared when she had laughed, how achingly beautiful she had been in her wedding dress -- the joy he had felt when she had touched his face after the battle at Jyusendou...

     As the energy peaked, Ranma threw out his arms and again his cry of 'Mouko Takabisha' rang out. This time, the blast was stronger -- the outpouring of chi struck the targett -- and did nothing. At best, he could see some minor pitting on the concrete surface.

     Ranma stared at the target, as if willing it to show more damage. His best attack -- his most powerful technique -- had done little more than scratch its surface. Ranma just couldn't understand. What was wrong? There should be a hole there -- big enough to crawl into.

     Ranma looked down at his hands. He was supposed to be the heir to the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu... but if this was the best that he could do, then he didn't deserve that, either. Ranma's fists clenched as the frustration tore his soul. Again he had failed. Like everything else he had tried over the past two years, he had failed.

     He had failed to find a cure for the curse that plagued him. He had never been able to become whole again; never managed to reclaim his manhood. Every attempt at ridding himself of the curse had met with failure -- had ended in disaster.

     He had failed his mother and in his promises to her. He was not the manly son that she had so wanted. His strength, his determination, his skills -- had all been inadequate. He had failed her again with his inability to appease the wrath of his wife. Still she hammered him for flaws that he had been unable to correct, no matter how hard he had tried. In truth, he was not even sure what they were.

     He had failed Akane, too. In everything that mattered, he had fallen short. He could not lie to her, but he had never won her trust. She had no faith in him; in his fidelity, or in his love for her. He had failed to make her happy -- he could no longer make her smile. The only emotions that she would share with him were frustration, jealousy, and rage. He had failed to live up to her desires or her expectations. He could do nothing to please her. He had failed to give her the help, the support, or the understanding that she needed. A scream tore itself from his throat.

     Dark energies coursed through Ranma -- bitterness, anger, frustration, depression, and despair. In his mind's eye, everything he touched turned to ash and was swept away by the winds -- gone, as though it had never existed. The mother he had never really had the chance to know -- the childhood he had never had -- the friendships that he had never built -- the loss of his manhood and the disintegration of his marriage; through it all, he had still had the Art. Today even that had deserted him.

     Today his failure was complete.

     Reflexively, Ranma's hands extended toward the practice target. His eyes closed, and he cried out. "SHI SHI HOUKOU DAAAN!"

     The discharge of energies tore through Ranma like lightning, setting his nerves on fire. Every cell in his body felt as if it were aflame as the blast leaped from him to the target, and beyond. A wall of sound rushed back past Ranma as the raw chi energy ripped matter apart, reducing it to its simplest components.

     Drained, Ranma sagged, oblivious to his surroundings and the subtle alterations that had just been made to the local topology.

     The practice target, thirty cubic meters of steel reinforced concrete, had ceased to exist. So had a tree, a four-meter section of the compound wall, the ashcans that had been behind it, and a major portion of the sidewalk and street beyond. A trench, meters deep, was all that was left of the intersection. Cold water fountained into the air from a ruptured main, raining down on the courtyard where Ranma stood, drenching him and triggering the inevitable shift.

     Ranma was blind to it all. Looking down at herself, she fell to her knees, tears of frustration burning as they forced their way past unwilling eyes. This body, this girl's body was no more than she deserved -- the final symbol of his... no... of her failure.

     Ranma hauled herself to her feet again and staggered back towards the house. The way things were going, she figured that she might as well clean up and go help Kasumi in the kitchen. She doubted that she'd be good for much else.

     The sun was just peeking over the eastern horizon as Akane stormed into the dojo. Removing her katana from its rack on the wall, she strode to the end of the training hall, where she had set up a practice dummy. Straw, packed into several layers of burlap and cotton batting, all bound into a vague semblance of a human shape, the dummies were designed to take pretty heavy abuse. Of course, it was just a coincidence that all of hers looked so much like Ranma.

     Akane could feel her blood singing through her as she swung the blade. Her motions were fluid, smooth, and elegant. Slash followed stab with speed and precision. For the duration of the exercise, the clumsy girl that Ranma had so often teased was gone and in her place was a warrior that moved with a dancer's lithe grace.

     As her kata drew to a close, Akane looked toward what was left of the dummy. Bits of straw and strips of shredded burlap and batting covered the floor around the post where the dummy had been mounted. Yes, thought Akane, this was just what she needed. Pausing to fit the post with another dummy, Akane once more began to vent her anger and frustration on a hapless simulacrum.

     Akane reflected on the cause of her anger. She had come home last night to find that half of the rear garden wall had been vapourised, along with a good chunk of the street behind it. She'd had a pretty good idea who had been responsible and started looking for Ranma. How could that idiot husband of hers have been so careless?

     When Akane had found her, Ranma was in the kitchen, wearing one of Kasumi's aprons as she cut up meat and vegetables for the evening meal. That had brought Akane up short. Ranma cooking? Ranma wearing an apron? Voluntarily? Akane's irritation had grown as she came to the conclusion that Ranma was trying once more to prove that he could be a better girl than Akane could.

     Spin. Slash. Feint. Stab. Akane's dance continued, the light flashing off the polished blade.

     At first, Ranma had denied any knowledge of the incident and, when Akane had dragged her out of the house to see the damage, she had looked fully as shocked as Akane had felt. After that, while Ranma did not deny being responsible, she still claimed to have no memory of the event. Did Ranma actually expect her to believe that? It was just the sort of stunt Ranma would pull, but she was not going to fall for it -- not this time.

     Ranma had shrugged and turned to go back into the kitchen. That had been the last straw as far as Akane was concerned. Akane had grabbed Ranma by the shoulder and spun the redhead around to face her again. Ranma had just looked at her, saying nothing.

     Akane had lost her temper. Her arm had tensed for a moment and then her hand had flown to deliver a stinging slap across Ranma's face. Ranma didn't move. She didn't evade; she didn't so much as blink. Akane had reversed her swing and tagged Ranma again with the back of her hand. Still, Ranma didn't move.

     Husband and wife had stared at each other for long moments. Finally, Ranma had asked in a quiet voice, devoid of any emotion, "Are you finished? I need to get back to preparing dinner." When Akane made no answer, Ranma had turned and shuffled back into the kitchen. Akane had looked up to see Kasumi watching her from the porch with a sad expression.

     Anger and shame had warred for control of her then as she stormed off to the bedroom. She was still not sure which had won.

     Ukyou felt like pounding her head against the wall. Ranma had been doing so well. Smiling and laughing, the old Ranma had finally begun to re-emerge. From the depths of utter despair, Ranma had fought his way back to hope that there could be an end to all of the pain and heartache.

     Ukyou, too, had started to believe that it could work out. Ranma had learned so much -- had come so far. And during the classes he taught at the Civic Centre, he had come truly alive. He had been doing what he was born to do. It had been working, dammit!

     But Akane had put an end to it. She had put him in hospital and destroyed everything that he had fought for -- everything that he had achieved. Almost four months of work -- all of it had been washed away in a single, brutal evening.

     If anything, Ranma was in a worse state now than when he had started attending group sessions. Since coming home from hospital, he hadn't smiled once. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything any more. He walked around as if in a daze, saying little and doing less. Ranma was shutting down -- distancing himself from everyone and everything -- withdrawing into a shell of denial and indifference that frightened Ukyou.

     The few times that he had managed to come by the restaurant, his appetite had been off. He didn't even wolf down his okonomiyaki anymore -- what little she could tempt him into eating. An air of quiet resignation hung over him like a fog. It was as if he just didn't care anymore. And yesterday, after Akane had come for him again, Ukyou had finally had enough.

     It wasn't fair! He'd been so close -- so close to helping himself, and so close to helping Akane. But Akane hadn't wanted help, and she was determined to take Ranma down with her. That could not be allowed to happen. There was no way she was going to let Akane destroy her friend without a fight.

     Talk had failed. Prayer had failed. Common sense and reason had failed. All other options had been exhausted. It was time to fight. One way or another, Ukyou was resolved that the abuse would stop today.

     After giving Konatsu some last-minute instructions, Ukyou gathered her bandoleier and her combat spatula and headed for the door.

     Akane was fitting a third dummy to the post when Ranma walked in for his... make that her morning exercises. Akane watched as Ranma moved to the other end of the dojo and began a complex series of kata. Ranma's natural grace combined with her feminine curves made the exercise into an exotic dance; precise and controlled, but with a supple beauty that was mesmerizing.

     Despite the bruises, Ranma's expression was serene. There was, in the Art, still peace to be found -- at least for Ranma. Akane had never been able to find much of that tranquillity of spirit. Angrily, Akane finished mounting the new dummy and returned to her practice.

     Akane began her kata and let the rest of the world fade from her awareness as she and the blade became one. She was the blade, cutting, piercing, slashing. She could almost feel the material of the dummy as the blade whipped through it. She was so involved with her exercise that she did not even notice when Ranma finished her warm-ups and fetched a dummy of her own. Nor did she see Ranma flinch when one of her strokes removed the pigtail from her own dummy's head.

     Akane finished her routine as Ranma was wrestling a dummy onto another post. Something about Ranma's demeanor was beginning to irritate Akane again. Perhaps it was the strained silence that had developed between them. Perhaps it was the aire of resignation that hung over her. Maybe it was just that it was getting harder and harder to get a rise out of Ranma. Akane wasn't really sure, but for some reason she felt an intense need to wipe that placid expression off of Ranma's face.

     "Hey," said Akane. "Didn't you bathe?"

     Ranma's reply was flat and toneless. "Of course I did."

     Akane blinked. "Then why are you... why are you..."

     "Still a girl?"

     Akane nodded.

     Ranma shrugged. "Does it matter?"

     "A girl doesn't make much of a husband," Akane retorted.

     "No, I guess not." Ranma agreed quietly. Ranma turned back to her dummy and started her exercises listlessly -- pounding on the inert figure with little effect and less enthusiasm.

     Akane's irritation grew. "You're gonna have to do better than that," she taunted. "You're hitting that thing like a girl."

     Ranma just looked at her -- then turned back to the dummy.

     Akane tried another tack. "So, where were you last night?"

     "I was on the roof. I was watching the stars, and I fell asleep."

     "I see. What if I told you that I had information that you were with Ukyou again last night?"

     "I'd say that your information was in error."

     "Can you prove that?"

     "Do I have to?" Ranma shrugged. "Nothing that I can say is going to convince you of anything. Believe what you want."

     "Dammit, Ranma, you could at least ACT like you were interested in our marriage!" Akane was really starting to get angry.

     Ranma turned towards her wife with an incredulous expression on her face. "What... WHAT did you say?" she managed to gasp.

     "You heard me!" snapped Akane.

     "You're mad!" Ranma shot back. "I've tried everything that I could think of to make you happy! I've kept every promise! I've begged. I've pleaded. I've given you everything that I have; everything that I am. What do I have to do to prove myself to you?

     "Well, for starters, you could stay the hell away from Ukyou!"

     Ranma had had enough. "NO! You've taken just about everything else from me -- what do I have left?" she asked bitterly. "I will NOT let you take away my last friend!"

     "Don't you mean your lover? Your mistress?" Akane's voice rose to a shout. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want you seeing her anymore!"

     "But Akane! We're just friends! Honest!"

     "You expect me to believe that?!" Akane snarled as a red haze crept across her vision. This was intolerable -- the two people most responsible for all of her pain were ganging up on her again -- her husband and his mistress. A small part of her mind cried out that Ranma just might be telling the truth; that he and Ukyou really were no more than friends. She squelched that thought as the rest of her mind conjured up images of Ranma and Ukyou together -- laughing, talking, having fun. All of the things that Ranma never did with her anymore. "Just how stupid do you think I am?!" she cried.

     Ranma belonged to HER, not to Ukyou! Akane felt her arms tense and the rage surge through her like a flash flood. Rational thought was swept away and she surrendered to the blackness, letting the torrent of fury overwhelm her.

     Ukyou could hear voices as she approached the dojo.

     "How many times do I have to tell you, I don't want you seeing her anymore?!" Akane was screaming.

     "But Akane," came Ranma's answer, "We're just friends! Honest!"

     "You expect me to believe that?!" Akane retorted. "Just how stupid do you think I am?!"

     "Would it matter?" asked Ranma bitterly.

     "WHAT was that?"

     "You've never believed me before; I don't expect that you'll start now."

     "Well, why ELSE would you be with HER all the time? Why not your other friends? What about them?!" Akane's tone was acid.

     "What other friends?" Ranma asked. "Ucchan's the only friend I've got left!" She was shouting now. "She's the only one that you haven't managed to scare off!"

     Ukyou stepped onto the porch and looked into the training hall. Ranma, still in girl form, was standing at one end of the room, just under the family shrine. Akane stood facing Ranma, holding the katana that Nodoka had given her when she and Ranma had married. The blade glinted as she swung the katana towards the slashed remains of a number of training dummies that bore mute testimony to the extent of her rage.

     "And just what is THAT supposed to mean?" Akane's voice was getting shrill.

     "Just that! No one ever comes by any more because of the way we fight all the time! It makes them uncomfortable. Don't you get it? They're AFRAID of you! Ryouga, Kunou... Everybody! Hell, you even have KASUMI scared!"

     Akane took a half step toward Ranma, prodding at her with the katana. Ranma ducked to the side, avoiding the blade, and Akane moved to pursue. Ukyou tried to scream, but succeeded only in uttering a strangled gasp.

     Ranma saw her at that point and called a warning. "Be careful, Ucchan! Stay back!"

     Akane whirled. "YOU!!" she screamed at Ukyou. "I told you to stay AWAY from Ranma! He's MINE! This is all YOUR doing!"

     Ukyou felt as if she were paralyzed -- time seemed to stand still. She had known that Akane had grown more violent, but she was totally unprepared for the brutal reality. The girl that stood before her now was more like an animal than a thinking being. Ukyou's eyes were drawn to the blade that Akane was waving, as the hammering of her own heart fought for her attention -- and lost.

     Akane swung the tip of her katana back towards Ranma, her eyes flashing with ill suppressed fury. As she tightened her grip on the handle, Akane's voice was like thunder in Ukyou's ears. "I warned you... I warned you both! DIE, RANMA!"

     Ukyou watched, horrified, as Akane thrust forward with the katana. Ranma was too startled to even try to evade; the blade slid easily into her abdomen just below the ribs and out through her back. Ranma blinked, a look of shocked surprise frozen on her bruised features. She fell to her knees as the blade was withdrawn, its bright finish stained red with her blood.

     Ranma convulsed once, coughing up blood as the light faded from her eyes, and, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she dropped quietly to the floor of the dojo.

     "Ran-chan... NOOOOooooo!" screamed Ukyou, rushing forward. Her combat spatula clattered to the floor as she tossed it aside.

     Ukyou dropped to her knees beside Ranma's limp form. Frantically, she rolled Ranma over onto her back as she pulled the large ribbon from her hair. Hugging Ranma to her and using the ribbon as an impromptu bandage, she tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping wound.

     Ranma's breathing was rapid and shallow, her eyes glazed. Flecks of blood stained her lips. "Ucchan?" she managed to gasp.

     "I'm here, Ran-chan... It's going to be okay..." Ukyou sobbed as she fought to stop the bleeding. "You're going to be all right..."

     "I... I'm sorry..."

     Ukyou felt a searing white heat pierce her heart as Ranma twitched in her arms and was still. She fought to hold on to Ranma's body, but her arms had suddenly turned to lead and refused to obey her. Ranma fell back to the floor of the dojo and Ukyou could see a new gash between the redhead's breasts.

     Numbly, Ukyou looked down. The tip of Akane's katana protruded from her own chest, spilling her blood and Ranma's to mix in a pool on the floor. She tried to stand, but could not move her legs. She stared up uncomprehendingly at Akane's hate-filled expression.

     "You want him?" Akane snarled. "Then join him in hell!"

     Waves of agony swept through Ukyou as Akane withdrew the blade, twisting it as she pulled it free. Ukyou swayed once and pitched forward onto the lifeless body of her childhood friend.

     The last sound that Kuonji Ukyou heard was Kasumi's terrified scream.

     Kasumi was walking towards the dojo with a tray of snacks and things for tea. Ranma and Akane had been squabbling all morning, and when Ukyou had arrived, Kasumi had decided that she had better keep an eye on things. Besides, Akane would usually listen to her eldest sister even when no one else could get through to her.

     Kasumi could hear Akane's voice as she stepped into the courtyard. Though she could not make out the words, the tone was clear enough. As was her wont of late, Akane was angry. Kasumi sighed. This was not going to be easy. Suddenly, another shout brought Kasumi up short.

     "Ran-chan! NOOOOoooooooooo!"

     That was Ukyou! The anguish and despair in that scream had been almost tangible. The tray she had been carrying clattered to the ground as Kasumi began to run.

     Nabiki had heard the scream as well and was leaning out of the family room door as Kasumi ran past. Kasumi saw her and shouted. "Nabiki! Tofu! NOW!"

     Nabiki bolted for the phone. She had never in her life heard that tone from Kasumi, and it terrified her.

     Kasumi heard Ukyou sobbing as she hit the porch and ran into the dojo proper. What she saw there stopped her dead in her tracks.

     Ukyou was on her knees holding the girl Ranma tightly in her arms. What she could see of the front of Ranma's shirt was soaked with blood, and blood was collecting in a large pool under Ranma's body. Ranma's eyes were all but closed and her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

     Kasumi started forward to help but came up short again, as she caught sight of her youngest sister. Her eyes widened in horror.

     Akane stood over her husband and the sobbing Ukyou, wearing an expression of such animal rage and hatred that she no longer looked human. Gory red stains spattered the front of her gi. She was holding her katana in both hands, and Kasumi was horrified to see the crimson film of blood running the length of the blade.

     Kasumi could not move. She was frozen... trapped like an insect in amber. It was as if she were held fast by some unseen force, while the world moved in slow motion around her. A part of her mind screamed out that she could fix everything... She could make it all better. It would all be all right, if only she could move... if only she could move...

     But it was not going to be all right. As Kasumi watched helplessly, Akane brought her katana around in one fluid motion, driving it deeply into Ukyou's back. Ranma shuddered once and was still. Ukyou lost her hold on Ranma's body as her arms fell limply to her sides, and the redhead fell back onto the dojo floor. The blade of Akane's katana had gone through Ukyou and right through Ranma's heart.

     Kasumi watched as Ukyou looked up at Akane. Akane was saying something -- the words held no meaning for Kasumi -- but the timbre was unforgettable. That snarl would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. Akane wrenched her blade from Ukyou's body, twisting savagely as she tore it free. With a small, gurgling cry, Ukyou fell across Ranma's corpse and was still.

     Kasumi heard someone begin to scream. After what seemed an eternity but could have been no more than a fraction of a second, she realized that the voice was her own. Akane whirled at the sound and the heat of her glare cut into Kasumi with searing force. All other sounds were drowned out as a roaring filled Kasumi's ears and the world went black.

     Someone was screaming -- Akane could just hear it over the roaring in her ears. It was not the sharp scream of anger, or even the ragged cry of pain, but rather the mournful, keening wail of absolute terror. Akane whirled to face the source of the sound and was dimly aware of a figure crumpling to the ground.

     Her mind echoed the scream she had heard. The effect was like ice water on her spine, chilling her to the core. Akane blinked as the haze began to lift from her vision, and the world swam back into focus. The first image she registered was that of the figure collapsed in the entrance to the training hall. Kasumi.

     Akane reacted on instinct, calling out her sister's name as she moved forward. She started to trip over something on the floor. Looking down, she froze -- unable to fully comprehend what she was seeing.

     Ranma lay flat on the floor, her eyes half open, staring blankly into the nothingness. Ukyou was sprawled over Ranma's body, sightless eyes open wide, a trickle of red pooling under a slack jaw. There was blood everywhere -- and neither of them were breathing.

     Akane took a step backward, the horror of the scene before her washing all thoughts of her sister from her mind. She slipped on the blood-slick matting and fell back onto the floor. Instinctively, she tried to catch herself as she fell. The tatami was warm and sticky -- and her hand came away wet. Akane's katana dropped from her numbed fingers and clattered to the floor. The sound drew her gaze to the weapon and the bright film of blood that stained its mirrored blade.

     Akane's mind tried to grasp the enormity of what she was seeing, and failed. This could not be reality -- it was a nightmare -- a horrible dream from which she would awaken soon. Any second now, she was going to wake up in her nice, warm bed, with Ranma beside her, and this horrible image would be no more than a rapidly fading half memory.

     Any second now. Any second. She would be waking up. Why wasn't she waking up? She was ready for this dream to be over now. She tried to cry out, but a strangled whimper was all that could squeeze past the tightness in her throat. Please, God, let me wake up... Tearing her gaze from the gory scene before her, Akane looked down -- to see the thick red stains that covered her hands and the front of her gi.

     Akane screamed.

     Nabiki was the first to reach the dojo after she had heard Kasumi's scream. She ran across the courtyard toward the dojo until she caught sight of her elder sister's limp form sprawled in the entryway of the training hall. A tightness gripped her chest as fear threatened to overwhelm her. Summoning all of her courage, Nabiki approached her fallen sister.

     Kasumi was alive, and there were no obvious wounds. Her breathing was deep and even, and Nabiki decided, with no small measure of relief, that she had simply fainted. Satisfied that Kasumi was in no danger, Nabiki stood and walked into the dojo. She was halfway across the practice hall before Akane's anguished wail froze her in her tracks. She would never forget that instant as the details of the tableau before her were burned into her memory.

     Nabiki started to back slowly out of the dojo, her mind fighting desperately to deny what she was seeing. "No..." she sobbed quietly, "No, please..." She nearly jumped out of her skin as she found her retreat blocked, and gentle hands caught her shoulders. Fighting the urge to scream and run, Nabiki turned and found herself face to face with Doctor Tofu. The expression of shock and horror on the doctor's face was a mirror of her own.

     Tofu's voice sounded hoarse to Nabiki. "Go on," he said. "Get Kasumi into the house. I'll... I'll do what I can here."

     Numbly, Nabiki nodded and stumbled towards the entryway where her older sister was still lying. She was grateful for anything to keep her mind away from the scene in the dojo. With a strength she didn't even know that she had, Nabiki lifted her sister's unconscious body and fled into the house.

     Tofu had been on the phone with Nabiki when he had heard Kasumi's scream in the background. He had been out of the door before the telephone handset in the clinic had hit the floor. He ran the three blocks to the Tendou home as fast as he could. He had been too late.

     Kasumi's injuries were not physical -- though she and Nabiki would both no doubt be scarred for life. After sending Nabiki and Kasumi to relative safety, Tofu carefully approached the youngest Tendou.

     Akane was babbling, childlike, trying to wake Ranma up. She would shake the redhead's body, alternating between pleading and crying. "Please, Ranma! Wake up! I'm sorry, Ranma... I didn't mean it! Please, won't you please wake up?"

     It didn't take any medical training to see that Akane's pleas would go unanswered. Tofu came up behind Akane quietly, and, bracing for the worst, laid a hand on the sobbing girl's shoulder. Akane froze for an instant before turning around slowly. When she saw Tofu, her eyes lit up with hope.

     "Sensei!" she cried. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into the front of his shirt. "Thank god you're here! Ranma... Ranma needs your help! He won't wake up! Please, Sensei... please make Ranma wake up!"

     Reflexively, Tofu put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. As gently as he could, he said, "I'm sorry, Akane. There's nothing that I can do for Ranma now. Ranma... is dead."

     "Dead?" she sniffed. "He can't be dead... he's still a girl! Make him wake up."

     "Akane, you have to believe me. Ranma... Ukyou... they're both dead."

     "NO! You're lying! He can't be dead... he's Ranma! No one can beat him! No one!" Akane started to struggle -- trying to break free of the doctor's grip. "You can fix it!" she cried, "You can make it better! Make the pain go away! Why won't you fix it? Why?!"

     As Akane's cries pushed into full hysteria, Tofu applied pressure to a set of key points on the back of her neck. Akane stiffened briefly and then lapsed into unconsciousness. He lifted her and carried her out of the dojo and back into the house.

     Ukyou's father had proven impossible to locate -- no one the Tendous had been able to reach even knew if the old man was still alive. In a rare moment of lucidity, Tendou Soun declared that his clan would take responsibility for Ukyou's arrangements as well as Ranma's.

     The funeral visitation was held in the dojo, the caskets occupying the same space that the altar had at the wedding, not quite a full year before. Each coffin was draped with a black shroud and topped with a photograph of the deceased. There were two photos on Ranma's, one showing his female form. Candles provided an eerie, flickering illumination, and the scent of incense filled the air.

     Tendou Soun was absent -- under sedation and the watchful eyes of his eldest daughter and the family doctor.

     Kasumi dealt with her grief as best she could, alternating between looking after her father and taking care of the house as she always had. As she ran out of chores to do, she would start the cycle again, cleaning things that were already clean, taking things out of their cabinets so she could put them back away, straightening already immaculate rooms, and scrubbing for all she was worth to remove non-existent grime and dust. There was an intensity to her labours -- a drive fueled by the nagging feeling that if she had been more like her mother, if she had been more worthy of her position, she would have been able to prevent this tragedy. If she stopped to think about it, she knew better, but her doubts remained.

     Nabiki stared sullenly at the caskets, but made no move to go near them. She had an image to maintain and could not deign to show sentiment. Though no one would be allowed to see her grieve, grieve she would. Even the ice queen had a heart.

     Off to one side of the hall, Genma sat motionless, his face grey and without expression. He might well have been made of stone. He watched the processional of friends and family through eyes that were cold and lifeless. No trace of emotion showed through the facade. He had lost his only son. Nothing mattered anymore -- his future was gone. Obliterated in onee careless, heated moment.

     Nodoka entered the training hall and approached the coffins, her face a mask. Stiffly formal, dressed in full kimono, she was the very picture of traditional Japanese grief. She carried a familiar bundle, though this time, it was much shorter.

     Tradition, thought Nodoka bitterly. Tradition had ruled her life since the day she had been born. Tradition had given her a husband and, when the Art had taken him away for years at a time, tradition had given her stability. It had given her a sense of purpose that had sustained her during the long and lonely nights while her husband and son were absent.

     She had defied tradition once -- when she had given the blade to her daughter in law at the wedding. Why couldn't she have waited? She had just been too excited to see her son wed. It had interfered with her judgment, and now she was paying the price.

     Now she hoped that tradition would give her the strength that she needed to go on in the face of tragedy. Carefully she unwrapped her bundle. "Goodbye, my son. If not for my foolishness, you might still be here with us now. I can only pray that your spirits will one day forgive me."

     Reaching into the cloth wrappings and extracting the shattered remains of the Saotome blade, she laid the pieces on her son's casket. The last piece was the guard that had borne the family crest. It had been snapped cleanly in two. "The Saotome line... ends here." With a heavy heart she stood and moved to join her husband, to make room as friends and acquaintances came to pay their own respects.

     Kunou stood, his expression wooden, though it took every last bit of the strength he had to maintain it. He was Samurai -- he would deal with his own grief later. For now, he had to be strong. For his sister, for the Tendous, for the survivors, he had to be strong.

     He still could not fathom it. Saotome Ranma was dead -- he had long prayed for this day. But not like this! Not at this price! Osage no onna was dead -- Kuonji Ukyou was dead -- Tendou Akane was in an institution. Somehow it was all Ranma's fault -- it had to be. That was the only thing that made sense -- it was the only thing that he could believe... and stay sane.

     His sister, Kodachi just stood -- shocked to sanity for the time being -- staring in horrified amazement at the coffins. The proportions of her Ranma-sama's casket seemed off, somehow. The box was just a hair too short. Like her brother, she had been shocked that Ranma was to be interred in the very same vessel as the pigtailed girl who had so brazenly contrived to steal his attentions from her. And so she had done, for he was now forever beyond her reach.

     Once the Kunous had left, a lone figure in a short, Chinese-style dress approached the caskets. Her great-grandmother was back at the Nekohanten, packing for the return to China, and Mousse... Mousse had been warned that if he were to approach her during the next week, it would be the last thing that he ever did.

     Shampoo knelt before Ranma's casket and let the tears come. With great care, she took off an amulet that she had worn for the occasion and laid it on the coffin. "Stupid Ranma. Why so stupid?" her voice was a bare whisper. "Now Shampoo can go home. But what is point? You no will be there. You never know..." her voice started to break. "You never know how much Shampoo love you."

     She looked up at the photographs and a flash of raw anger surged through her. "I never know. I never know what trouble you in. Never allowed to know... Husband..." Shampoo choked back a sob. She had failed him. If only she had known what was happening, how bad things were, she might have been able to do something. She might somehow have prevented this.

     With a sob and a cry of "Bie Liao," Shampoo ran blindly from the dojo and into the night.

     Konatsu, dressed in black, came and stood staring vacantly at the boxes in front of him. After a time, he knelt before Ukyou's coffin and closed his eyes to pray. "Goodbye, Ukyou-sama. In the end, you won your love after all, didn't you? I hope... I hope that you will both be happy in the next life. Think back, on occasion, and remember those of us that you left behind... because we will never forget you." Tearfully, Konatsu laid a small spatula and a single, perfect lily next to Ukyou's photograph.

     Friends came and went through the evening... Hiroshi and Daisuke paid their respects as though in a daze. Gosunkugi had come and stared owlishly at the two caskets, as if unable to believe what he was seeing. Yuka and Sayuri too came to say their goodbyes.

     The last group to visit was the membership of the self-help group from the Civic Centre. Each member took a moment to say a short prayer for their fallen comrades and to say their farewells.

     Keiko could hardly see the scene before her through the tears in her eyes. "Damn you, Ranma," she sobbed. "I got out. Why couldn't you?" Trembling, Keiko dropped her offering on the casket -- a plain gold band. Her wedding ring. "It isn't worth the price you paid." Yuriko helped the weeping redhead out the door.

     When Rei's turn came, she knelt and stared at Ranma's photograph, her eyes smouldering with barely suppressed emotion. With shaky hands she placed a small locket on the box. Her whispery voice almost failed her as she said, "Goodbye, Ranma. I will miss you. Thank you for your kindness."

     Miyuki's turn came next. She had brought flowers for Ukyou and for Ranma she had brought a book. "I promised you this when you were in hospital. I know how you were looking forward to reading it. It ends happily, Ranma. It ends happily, thanks to you." She fought to keep her voice calm, but inside she was screaming as she read the dedication to her husband's first published manga. "To Saotome Ranma... a very special man, with heartfelt thanks. You gave me a chance to get back my happiness and my marriage. I am forever in your debt." Miyuki set the book gently on the casket. "And so am I, Ranma. Thank you."

     Kimiko was the last. Kneeling before the coffins, she laid a flower on each, and took a deep breath. "I am an old and foolish woman," she began. "I was very set in my ways, until the two of you came into my life. I can't help but feel that this could have been avoided, if only we had done more. If we had not almost driven you away. I hope that your spirits can find the will to forgive me. And I bring you this promise. Our group will never turn anyone away, nor give them cause to feel unwelcome so long as I draw breath. We will not forget the lessons that you have taught us."

     After another moment of silent prayer, Kimiko got slowly to her feet and walked out of the dojo to join the others.

     After several suicide attempts, Tendou Akane had to be restrained. She would not be allowed to kill herself. Strong medications were administered to help calm her, but they did nothing for the guilt, the pain, and the loss that she felt. Slowly they were driving her mad.

     Ranma had tried to help her -- as Ukyou had tried to help Ranma -- and their devotion had cost both of theem their lives. And for what?

     Ranma had loved her, as she had loved him. They were supposed to have lived happily ever after! That was the way that all good stories ended. Not in nightmares like this -- where demons from the past had risen and driven her to madness and murder.

     She had been wrong -- so very wrong. Ranma had been honourable and had earned her trust and devotion a thousand times over. It was she who had failed him.

     Her despair was overwhelming -- her sleep tortured by visions that woke her screaming in the middle of the night. Daily she would beg to be allowed to die, to pay for her crimes. But they would not release her.

     Until one day, Tendou Akane was gone -- retreated -- banished into whatever internal hell she had made for herself. She left only a shell behind -- a mind-wiped doll. A girl who had no memory of her past or sense of her identity.

---

EPILOGUE

---

     The girl was sitting on a bench under a cherry tree, her long, dark hair fluttering in the breeze. The skies were grey -- the wind chill, but with a hint of the warmth that would be coming with the spring. Already the branches above her were showing the buds that in just a month's time would be filling the air with the petals from pink, sweet-smelling blossoms.

     He was late. Though outwardly calm, one who knew her could tell she was nervous from the way her hands worried the plaid fabric of her skirt. She tensed momentarily as a taxi-cab pulled up to the curb. Maybe it was the right one this time. A pause. Thank the Kami, it was. She sighed in relief as the lone passenger exited the car, paid his fare, and walked toward her.

     The force of his depression hit her like a physical blow. It had not gone well. "Ryouga-kun... are you... okay?"

     The man stopped in front of her, and she looked into his eyes. Her heart ached to see the devastation there. "She... she didn't know me... didn't remember me. She didn't even know her own name!"

     She reached towards him, longing to be able to soothe his pain. He let her guide him to a seat on the bench alongside her. Seeing her worried look, he managed a weak smile.

     "I'll be okay, Akari-chan. Really, I will. Let's just get this over with. Which way?"

     The couple stood, and Akari led Ryouga down a path, deeper into the cemetery. They walked in silence for a time, passing monument after monument -- each one cold, barren, and sterile.

     "I know that you cared for her..."

     "There was a time when I was in love with her. I'd have done anything for her... I'd have killed Ranma myself if she'd asked it of me."

     "Killed him? You can't mean that!"

     "Oh, I hated Ranma... I hated him for so long. I hated him for what I thought he had done to me. I hated him for what I thought he had taken from me. But in the end, I found out that he was my friend. I didn't realize it until it was too late, but he had always been my friend."

     "I think that you did know it... deep down."

     "Maybe." Ryouga smiled sadly at Akari. "It could have been me, you know. I was angry at Ranma for so long that I had almost forgotten what it was like NOT to be angry. So many times I let that anger control me -- drive me -- until it almost drove me insane. If you had never come into my life -- if I had never met you -- I might never have learned to let it go. It could so easily have been me."

     Ryouga shuddered and Akari reached out to him, taking his hand in hers.

     "Akane really loved Ranma... I guess that sounds kind of strange, after all that's happened, but she did. It took me a long time to get to the point where I could accept that. I had always known, deep down, but your first crush is always the hardest to get over."

     "I know..." Akari squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's okay."

     "When Ranma married her, I was crushed. By then I knew that you were the one for me, but there was still a part of me that was not ready to let go of that dream. Well, after they were married, Ranma started treating Akane better. Everyone figured that they would stop fighting and get along."

     "But it didn't get better, did it?"

     "No... no, it didn't. If anything it got worse. For months, I tried to figure out what Ranma was doing to her -- how he was tormenting her. He had to have been doing something!"

     Ryouga looked at Akari, his expression mournful. "But he wasn't! I watched him; I watched him like a hawk! He would bend over backwards to avoid insulting her or saying anything that might be taken the wrong way.

     "It was never enough. She would take it wrong. Every time. She reacted to him as she always had -- she flattened him. Nothing he would do could placate her. The more nicely he treated her, the more she seemed to be angry with him! I couldn't figure it out!

     "I know how hard Ranma tried... Akane could be cold when she got mad, and she got mad a lot. But at the same time, I could see how much she loved him... how she cried after she had hurt him. She just could not or would not stop."

     Akari nodded and slowed for a moment, before heading off toward one of the monuments. A simple stone monolith with the name "Tendou" engraved on its base. Three of the gravesites had markers on them. The first was old -- about ten years, if Ryouga remembered correctly. That would be Akane's mother.

     The other two graves were recent. The rich scent of freshly dug earth still clung to the air around the site -- the dark soil still devoid of grass. The markers bore nothing more than the names of the people interred. Saotome Ranma and Kuonji Ukyou.

     The soft rumble of distant thunder made Ryouga reach instinctively for his umbrella. He and Akari stood, staring sadly at the two graves, as a cold drizzle started to fall.

     "Maybe... maybe if I had tried harder. Maybe if I had done more, if I had done something differently, I could have stopped this." Ryouga's voice was a hoarse whisper.

     "Don't do this to yourself, Ryouga," Akari's tone was pleading. "It's not your fault. You did what you could at the time. You couldn't have known that it would go this far -- nobody could."

     Ryouga draped his free arm over Akari's shoulders and held her tightly. "It didn't have to be this way. This should never have happened. If... if only Akane had listened to him... If only he had listened to Ukyou... Maybe then they'd still be with us."

     Ryouga stepped forward and knelt before the gravemarkers. Gently, he reached up to his head and drew off two of his bandannas. Laying one across each grave, Ryouga murmured a short prayer and stood again. "Come on," he said, his voice on the verge of breaking. "Let's go... let's go home."

     Two very sad people wandered off into the afternoon, each drawing strength from the other... each supporting the other... each loving the other -- the way it should be... the way it should have been for Akane and Ranma.

---

OWARI

---

Author's Notes:

     If you have read this far, Zen thanks you for your patience and your persistence. Zen started out to write an Akane gets Ranma story as the result of a promise made to Caroline Seawright -- who sort of took exception to Zen's 'Ukyou deserves Ranma' bias. Zen is afraid that bias shows up in this story as well. Funny how that works.

     Zen did not start out to write a darkfic... Though Zen does tend more toward serious stories than light-hearted fluff most of the time, Zen never really intended for this to go down the path that it did. But, as Zen was thinking, trying to come up with some new angle from which to view the Ranma/Akane relationship, Sebastian Weinberg made a careless comment or two in the C&C of another fic that struck a chord in Zen. It helped to nail down in Zen's mind just why Ranma and Akane are terrible for each other.

     But Zen had promised to write an Akane gets Ranma fic. So he did -- and this is the result. It just turned out to be an Akane GETS Ranma fic. *sigh* Caroline, if you read this, Zen offers his apologies... and hopes that you may one day forgive him.

     Zen would like to thank his pre-readers, too. Richard Lawson, Sebastian Weinberg, Nicholas Leifker, Sean Gaffney, and Raphael See. Special thanks to Mike "Cynewulf" Noakes, for extensive help with the fight/class scenes.

     Part of the foreshadowing in this story was based on a Japanese custom. Japanese people will almost NEVER give anything that cuts as a wedding present or to a friend. It is considered bad luck -- as a symbol that the marriage, or the ffriendship, might be cut short. Nodoka's gift of her katana to Akane was, in a sense, the kiss of death.

     A note about the group meetings. Zen researched this bit fairly thoroughly and the sad truth is, there are almost NO support structures that exist for men who are beaten by their wives. There are no civil agencies that'll take them seriously -- and most women's groups actively discourage their attempted formation. The fact of the matter is, that rather than the entry scene being unrealistic, their shift to acceptance of Ranma at all, let alone on the first day, is totally unrealistic. Zen had to take a liberty with that, though, or none of the subsequent meetings would ever have taken place. For that liberty, Zen relied on the curse -- and Ucchan's little temper-fit that revealed said curse. Without it, they'd never have accepted him at all.

     The material on rage disorders is very real. Zen has a friend who suffers from such a disorder, though he is getting treatment. It was during a discussion with him over the nature of rage disorders that this story really started to surface -- Akane's behaviour throughout the manga and in many fanfics fits the pattern perfectly.

     Zen is off to read something light and fluffy now... like maybe "Hamlet" or "King Lear."

     Ja ne...

     Zen no Itan-sha
     Ayanami@mindspring.com
     April 1997