Ranma frowned as he looked at the wood covering the pit.  Even though he was only six years old, he knew something was wrong.  “Yo Oyagi, what’s up with the pit?”

            “Today I will be training you in the ultimate martial arts technique, the Neko-ken,” Genma said with a hint of pride in his voice.

            “The Neko-ken?”

            “Yes boy.  After you master this technique I will have little left to teach you.”  Genma inspected the fish sausages in his hand.  (“These should do.”)  He nodded.

            “It’s that strong?”  Ranma asked.  He didn’t see what was so great about the technique.  All he knew was there was a bunch of cats down in the hole, and his father was eyeing some fish sausages.  (“Maybe there’s more to it?”)

            “Yes it is.”  Genma turned to his son.  “Ranma, prepare yourself!”

 

           

Two Years Later, China

 

            Ranma held his hands up in a desperate attempt to block his father’s attack.  But it was all for not.  The young boy did not have the strength and the attack came down on his shoulder.  A loud popping sound signaled that the shoulder was no longer in place.  Ranma’s face fell to the ground and his hand went to his shoulder.  Another blow came down on his head.  This time he was forced to the ground.  He didn’t hear the crack, but he knew by experience that his nose was broken.  “Stop it Oyagi.  I can’t go on.” 

 

It was happening again.

           

“Quit whining boy!  You can’t let a little pain stop you!”  Genma punctuated his statement with a kick to his son’s side.

            Ranma went up into the air and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop.  He lay motionless there for a moment before attempting to rise.  He coughed up a mouthful of blood.

 

            The training had stopped being simple training.  Now it was abuse.  Now it was a matter of whether or not he could endure and survive.

 

            Genma approached slowly.  He stood near the boy at his side.  When he showed no signs of continuing Genma lashed out with another kick.  But it did not connect this time.  Instead of seeing the boy fly in the air Genma found himself on his back.  The boy had dodged the attack and swept his father’s feet out from underneath of him.  But Ranma had paid for it.  He had a few broken ribs and his quick movement had caused enough pain to cause him to collapse.  Genma got up and looked down at the boy.  He snorted.  “Pathetic.”

            “I agree.  Although it would be you who is pathetic,” A voice announced.

            Genma whirled in the direction of the voice.  “Who?”  He was surprised to find an old wrinkled woman on a cane standing before him.

 

 

            Cologne, Matriarch of the Amazons, had been walking through the forests surrounding her village.  She had no real reason to do so.  She simply enjoyed the solitude of the forest.  None of the Musk would be foolish enough to attack her, save their rulers and even then they were think twice.  Nor would the Phoenix People sweep down on her.  The forest was not the best place for them to fly into.  She was, understandably, surprised to hear the sounds of combat coming from further in the forest.  Thinking one of her tribe had fallen into a trap she sprang into action.  What she found was not one of her Amazons engaged in combat.  Instead she found a middle-age man beating a small child.  It started off as training.  The boy would block and counter the older man’s attack.  But it quickly disintegrated into child abuse.  Cologne held back at first.  It was none of her business.  The child was a male, and the older man (his father) was obviously a stupid male.  But everything changed when the boy swept the man’s foot out from underneath him.  (“That child couldn’t be fast enough to dodge then counterattack.  Even in perfect health it should have been impossible.”)  She extended her senses towards the boy as he lost consciousness.  Her eyes widened in shock.  (“This boy has a higher potential than anyone I’ve ever seen.”)  Her decision made she leapt from her tree limp and landed soundlessly behind the man.

            “Pathetic.”
            “I agree.  Although it would be you who is pathetic,” She commented.

 

 

            “Who are you?”  Genma demanded.

            Cologne eyed Genma with contempt.  Not only was he a male, but he had also taken his training beyond what was acceptable.  As a martial artist and a lover of children Cologne saw Genma as the embodiment of her tribe’s belief in male inferiority.  “I will not be giving you any name.  I will be taking your son, though.”

            “Nani?”  Genma growled and took up a defensive stance.

            “You are not qualified to continue teaching or raising this young man.  I will take over and try to undo the damage you have done.”

            “The Hell you will!”  Genma changed his stance and lashed out.

            His attack was fast.  But to Cologne, it was only average.  She caught his outstretched hand and tapped a pressure point near the base of his neck.  Genma slumped over fast asleep.  Cologne tossed him to the side rather unceremoniously and moved to pick up the two packs nearby.  She went through Genma’s pack and took out anything of value; a few scrolls and a couple of training manuals, then moved back to the boy.  She hefted over her shoulder and disappeared into the forest.