A Ranma Continuation Fanfiction.
Takes place shortly after the end.

Ranma1/2 by Rumiko Takahashi.
Go buy her comics.

a Colliding Symphonies production.

original story by: GT Hamilton
re-write by: TJ Hamilton
ryougaecho@abraxis.com

Part Two

"Oh no. . not this confused again. . .not the same mistakes. . .you're taking it all too hard. . "

Phil Collins

"You don't have to do this, I can get there myself."

"Nuh-uh. I owe you for helping me get this stuff."

"But you're only making yourself even later," Heiko complained, noticing the building's lights lighting up.

"I'll be fine," Ranma countered. (Yeah, right,) he thought, his head flooding with a super-deformed image of Akane malletting him frequently.

The two unceremoniously stopped in front of a building. Ranma assumed it was her because of the slope instead of steps in the main lobby. "Is this it?" he asked, looking up at the building. It was brick built, making it stand out from the more modern buildings around it.

"Yeah. It's on the first floor." She sighed deeply, brushing her hair from her face. She turned to Ranma, holding out her hand. "Gimmie."

Ranma grudgingly gave her one of the sacks he was carrying. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine Ranma. Go home. You look like you're ready to bolt."

"Yeah, well. . ." he trailed off, not helping to notice how dark it was getting. "Thanks again for helping me."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Go on," she said, pushing his shoulders. "Git!" she barked laughingly.

She watched in surprise at the rate that Ranma was running. Within a couple moments, he was over the hill, and gone from site.

She began fanning her face again as she made her way up the ramp, leaning against the banister. (Yeesh. What's wrong with me?) She berated herself as she opened the door with her hip. A picture of Ranma's face flashed through her mind. (He's not even my type. . .)

She stopped. (Since when do I have a type?) Shaking her head, Heiko made her way down the hall towards her apartment. She noticed a figure at the end of the hall carrying something.

"Hello, Heiko," it said.

"Hi Aki-kun," she answered to the super intendant. "Air conditioner working yet?" she asked, trying to put on a pleasing tone.

"Not yet. I have to go get the part from a depot," the middle aged man answered. He looked positively wispy in the coveralls he was wearing, let alone how big the bucket and tall the mop he was carrying. "Gone shopping?" he asked, walking up to her.

Heiko stopped at her door and began to fish for her keys. "Yeah," she grumbled, still fishing.

Aki smiled as he used his skeleton key on her door, pushing it open.

"Thank you," she breathed, heading in. "Gnight."

"Take care, girl," he said, closing the door behind her.

Heiko leaned back against the door, another image of Ranma flashing through her mind. She wouldn't admit to it, but somewhere, she hoped to crash into him again.

She held up the grocery bag. (Suppose I should put these up.)

Cologne was distressed.

Usually at her age she had learned to trivialise all the things that should be trivialised. However her tribe in the restaurant was in some kind of turmoil.

Shampoo had returned from one of the deliveries to the apartment district very quiet and despondent; a very contrary attitude for the powerful and confident Amazon.

Mousse was equally quiet. He wasn't questioning her ordering him around as he usually did. Then again, he was crashing into things more frequently than ever. He wasn't even pursuing Shampoo as vigorously as before.

Ever since Jyusendo, and the wedding.

Cologne watched the two of them as they bused the tables for closing. Mousse was trying to be especially careful as he put the chairs up. She needed to start getting under their skin to find the problem.

No doubt in some way Ranma had something to do with it. .

(What a hurricane eye, that boy,) she thought, doing the back deposit for the night. (I wonder. . .)

A lone figure sat on the edge of a short cliff leaning against a large rock. His trail pack and umbrella rested on the opposite side of the rock, while he had watched the sun set a few minutes before. Using his cuff, he wiped his moist brow. (Still warm, even without the sun. . ,) Ryouga thought.

He reached back into his pack, his arm fishing around for something. His hand emerged with a little pocket fan with YOKOHAMA in white letters on its handle. Ryouga looked at it for a moment before flipping it on, its whiny engine coming to life and blowing air in his face.

Typically, Ryouga's thoughts were in turmoil, deciding carefully how to extract his satisfaction from Ranma's suffering, cursing his lost-boy direction, cursing his curse, or despairing over Akane.

Very seldom were Ryouga's thoughts as silent as they were now. He was simply living. No heavy ki to weigh him down. He took a very deep breath and let it out noisily, wondering how he'd gotten his mind to this peaceful state. He looked at the fan again. "I wonder how long till I find my way home?"

Ryouga blinked, wondering if he meant his house, or something else.

"I must have some kind of souvenir fetish," he decided, shoving the fan back into the bag hastily. He picked up his gear, and turned to walk away from the edge.

And tripped.

"GYA-AH-AH-OW-OO-AI-GAAAH-!"

Ryouga went tumbling brutally down the opposite side, falling through several meters of shrubbery in the process before hitting a large rock and coming to an abrupt stop. Ryouga shifted slightly so his weight wasn't on his face anymore. (Ow. . .)

He sat up, a bundle of leaves falling from his hair.

"PTOOOEY!"

He spit out a pinecone he acquired during the ‘trip,' and began brushing broken twigs and dirt off his person. (Never fails. . ,) he sighed, cricking his neck as he stood up again.

He was at a path, and not knowing what direction to take, he simply walked across the path and disappeared back into the underbrush, following the sounds of the evening crickets' song.

Ranma stopped at the front gate, a street lamp flaring to life reminding him how late he was. (Might as well just go in,) he thought, bracing himself for the lumps he was about to take. He opened the door slowly, took of his shoes, and headed straight to the kitchen. He calmly set the bag of groceries down, noticing how clean and empty the kitchen was. (I guess I'm too late after all,) he thought, happy not to eat what Akane was cooking, but guilty for being so late at all.

(Oh well,) he thought. Ranma walked back towards the stairs.

"Ranma?" The call was almost too quiet to be heard, but Ranma heard it as though it were blasted through a mega-phone. He turned to see Akane's form in the darkness at the living room table.

Akane's chest hurt. It hurt to breath too deeply. In the back of her mind she thought it was because she hadn't moved in the last five hours. Maybe that was a good thing, not to speak loud enough to wake anyone. When she saw Ranma, it constricted even tighter almost preventing her from speaking. She saw him turn to face her, but it was dark. She couldn't see any features on his face. "Is that you?" she managed to voice, barely louder than a whisper.

"Akane?" he said, stepping into the living room. "Why you sittin` in the dark?" he asked.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her breathing coming back to her.

"I, uh, ran into some problems. . ," he answered nervously, not eager to go into detail on how he made an ass of himself. He failed to realise he was doing that any how.

"Why didn't you come home sooner?" she asked, shifting slightly to reach for the plate in front of her. "I had some . . potatoes I made. . ," she trailed off softly. "But, they're cold now."

Ranma swallowed hard, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. "I had some trouble. . ."

Her head snapped up. "Trouble? Are you okay?" she asked anxiously. "What happened? Why are you so late?" she demanded, her voice crescendoing.

Ranma slouched. "You promise to listen til I'm done?" he asked, his voice getting quiet. He looked up, seeing Akane's eyes watching him intently.

"I crashed into. . .someone. . .and made them drop their groceries. . .and that . . .someone, couldn't walk. . .-ahem- and I uh. . .took them to see Dr Tofu. . .and um. . "

Akane swallowed hard. "You're late because you got into another fight?" she asked, her voice getting louder.

"No! I said I crashed into her!" Ranma slapped his hands over his mouth.

"-Her-!?" Akane yelled, standing up. "You have us miss half our dinner, and me waste my whole night worrying about you so that you can yuk up the evening with some girl?"

"That's not what happened!" Ranma yelled back standing up. "I . . .I crashed into her and she hurt her side! That's all!" He was embarrassed and annoyed, and afraid he'd wake someone as the ‘talk'

"I bet the walk back to her place was fun, Ranma!" Happy's voice chimed in as he appeared on Ranma's shoulder.

"Wha-what!?" Akane stuttered. "HER PLACE!?"

"Shut up, you little freak!"

"AH, but Ranma! Even my old eyes at fifty paces could see the way she was walking would draw -anyone's- attention to such lovely charms!" Happosai cackled, slapping Ranma heartily on the back of the head.

Akane was seething. Even with no light she was seeing red.

"Die you little old pervert!" Ranma yelled, driving his elbow through his head and sending him through the garden door.

"Aieee! Show some repeeeeeect!" his fading voice screeched.

Ranma's breath was heaving. "Don't listen to that old freak, Akane! It wasn't like that!"

Akane was fading fast. "I dared to let myself worry about you, you jerk! " Akane spun around, unable to face him. "I spent all this time trying to make some food. . ," she said quietly. "And conveniently you're late -again-!" she said, her voice raising.

"Akane! Would you listen to me!?"

"And then I start having all these weird ideas, and its all because of you! Nothing can go planned with you! And I couldn't bring myself to move when I sat down. . .and I . ."

"Akane . ."

". . all these pictures of Jyusendo kept popping up. . .and one of a hundred different weird or stupid . .or scary. . .and not knowing if you'd ever come back. . ."

Ranma swallowed again. The air was getting thicker in the living room as his breathing slowed.

". .and. . .and . . .I messed up the fish again. . and. .What did he mean ‘lovely charms,' huh? Were they as big as Shampoo's?" She snapped.

"Akane, the ‘way she was walking' he was babbling about was with a crutch!" he yelled back, ashamed to say such a thing, but having no other explanation to offer.

"I don't even know what to think or do anymore!" she sank to her knees, her face in her hands. "It's never enough! I was so worried!" She began sobbing. "And you! Off with some. . .some. . -girl!-"

Ranma walked over to her anxiously. "Akane! Please, Just listen to me!" He put his hands on her quaking shoulders.

Akane did hear the desperate tone in Ranma voice, or the pleading quality of his exclamation. She didn't hear the very genuine worry in his voice. All she felt was Ranma's hands on her.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!!!" Akane spun like lightning.

[SLAP]

. . . . . .

Their eyes locked, Akane's hand still outstretched slightly. She -felt- Ranma's jaw slowly tighten, his skin glowing slightly where she made contact. Her chest hurt again, but much more strongly now.

Ranma reeled backwards a bit in the darkness of the living room.

Akane's throat was on the receiving end of the knot now, her breath very tight. She pulled her hand back a bit, looking at it in stupefaction. "I. . ," she breathed.

Ranma's jaw locked, his fist clenched. He stood up straight very lethargically.

"Ranma. . ," Akane breathed again, her voice quivering. Her hand stung horribly. His movement only barely registered. She only noticed when he was already out the broken doorway to the garden. "Ranma! Wait! I didn't. . .!" she called out to his escaping figure, he was gone into the night already. Salty tears began to sheet down her face. (I'm. . .too slow to keep up. . .) She thought, her breath becoming short as she cried into her hands, alone. ( I can't. . .. . )

(. . .Ranma. .)

Soun walked up to the gates and felt the difference in the ki in his house. (Another argument,) he decided immediately, his throat developing a knot. Arms full, he nimbly opened the doors with his foot and snaked his way through the back door straight to the Dojo. He passed by the sign which usually remained out front, For challengers to use the rear entrance. He had stopped putting that out after Ranma had been here for a while.

He slid the Dojo door open and began to set the supplies down in the corner next to Akane's weights. (Such a strong little girl,) he thought happily. His eyes threatened to give on him. (Why do they fight so hard? At this rate, no - one will carry on,) he thought in despair.

The wedding seemed to indicate that, but both of them were acting very differently since they all came back from China, towards everyone and each other. Even Genma, who after being back a week ended up back at his house across the city.

That made him sag a bit. He missed his friend. Certainly he enjoyed his children's company, but this was different.

(Well, might as well get started,) he thought, pulling some of the wood from the pile.

Cologne knocked on Shampoo's door, something she didn't do territorially speaking, as the entire restaurant and house above was hers absolute, but she decided on the subtle approach instead of throwing her weight around.

"Yes?"

Cologne tapped the door, the entire knob mechanism spinning from the tap and the door swinging open. She noticed the air pressure change, as Shampoo had her window open letting the night air spill in. "Great Grand Daughter. ." she sighed.

Shampoo was sitting at her make-shift desk-turned-vanity on one wall. She was actually more draped on the chair rather than sitting in it. She didn't answer the elder as she entered.

"You seemed to be very distracted tonight."

She sighed, fingering a picture of Ranma-boy attached to her mirror frame. A girl picture was just below it.

Cologne hopped over to her side, noticing the picture. "Is this about Ranma, again?"

"<No. . ,>" she sighed.

Cologne doubted that, but whatever it was, it was already having effects on Shampoo's posture, face, even her voice.

"<You have lots of memories, don't you?>"

"<Yes, child. Do you need advice from one of them?>"

"<Is killing right?>"

Cologne balked at that one. (That came from left field,) she thought as she examined her normally proud, confident descendant.

"<I did not think much about it, even chasing Ranma back here, or for the pervert-girl but. . ,>"

(Something happened to set this off. She's too old to be trying to draw concepts like this,) Cologne decided.

"<I mean, you've killed lots, right?>"

Cologne almost lost her balance on her staff, doing a short hop to catch herself. She said that a little too casually for her taste.

"<Shampoo. Killing is never wrong. It's never right either.>" She tipped the staff over and stood on the desktop. "<And yes, I've killed. Killing is a vice, Shampoo.>"

"<I don't understand. Honor says I kill Ranma, or Akane. . .but then I couldn't- . .>" she stopped suddenly, unable to continue.

(I knew it. She didn't tell me everything.) "<Something else happened in China, didn't it?>" She saw Shampoo's eyes water up as she nodded. "<Girl, killing is sometimes necessary for the sake of survival. Killing is also necessary to protect honour and values and way of life.>"

"<This is not about any of that. . ,>" she admitted in a small voice.

(Oh-ho. . .)

"<What happened?>" the matriarch asked, sitting down.

"Well. . ," Shampoo tried to calm herself before she began relating the story, a slightly different version of the trip to Jyusendo. Explaining about the egg and the mind-control again to her grandmother, she sped up to where she had Ranma down, and was going to use some eggs on Ranma, but Ranma used them and missed.

"<And?>"

Shampoo balked before continuing. "<I. . .I started shaking the doll around. . .hard. I got mad at how Ranma was reacting. I wanted to just. . .break her in two right there. I-. . .I wanted to before, but different. . even in mind control. Not because Kimaa told me to, not because honour. . but be-because . >" Shampoo choked off, unable to look at her image in the mirror.

(So. . .another catfight that went too far. . ,) Cologne sighed sadly.

"<I'm just so stupid, and selfish, and weak. I'm no Amazon,>" she spat.

Cologne grabbed the staff and poked Shampoo on the bridge of her nose with it, getting her undivided attention. "<You're not stupid, you're not weak. You are selfish, but everyone is to some extent, deary, especially at your age.>"

"<Not Ranma.>"

"<Even Ranma, and I can prove it to you. But that's later. We're talking about you.>" She pulled the staff back. "<Ultimately, you should always choose life. Our numbers are too small to be starting feuds over belligerent fights. Killing is to be avoided. Ours isn't the hand that cuts the mortal coil.>"

"<Then why?>"

"<In older days, tensions between other Amazon tribes and kingdoms were very high, and if any outsider came near, it was usually a scout. We'd always formally challenge the women, and lure the men.>"

"<And the Kiss of Death?>"

"<I think you know the answer to that. . .>"

"<I didn't -have- to give it, did I? . . .we could have . . .adopted her. . .him, couldn't we?>"

Cologne's mouth turned slightly. "<We can always look in hindsight easily on what we could have done.>"

(I had forgotten all about that,) Shampoo though sadly. (I just wanted to. . .hurt her for making fun of me. . .)

(I wanted to follow her and get away from the village.)

Shampoo buried her head in her arms as she sat at the desk. Cologne watched her granddaughter come to grips with a side of herself she apparently no longer liked. Of all the things to be upset at, not being home or even her curse, this is what vexed her?

"<No wonder. .Ranma hates me. . .no wonder everyone hated me. . .>"

"<Oh, knock it off,>" Cologne said, bopping her lightly with the cane.

"Ow!" she said, rubbing her head.

"<Ranma doesn't hate you. Everybody doesn't hate you.>"

"AUGH!"

WHAMMM

They both looked to the door that led to the hallway where they heard Mousse's voice come from.

"Who put this plant here!" his voiced shouted.

"That's a lamp, you idiot! It's been there for months!" Cologne yelled back, shaking her head. "<Case in point.>"

"<He doesn't count.>"

"<If you say so. . .Shampoo. The art and the traditions teach us that no greater teacher is experience. It helps you decide how to better yourself. But . .You're a big girl now and you can decide how to go about that.>" (As long as I think it's okay,) she thought.

"<Better myself?>" she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

Cologne grabbed her staff and stood on it again. "<Get some rest. You look awful.>"

"<Thank you great grandmother.>"

Cologne closed the door quietly behind her. (One down,) she thought. She turned to see the crooked lamp Mousse crashed into. (One to go.)

Next time. See what happens on Sunday. Where did Ranma run to? What's Cologne got in mind for Mousse? What about Gosunkugi? And will we see more of Heiko?

I'd love to hear your comments.

Ryougaecho@abraxis.com

part three will come sooner than two did.