Send C&C to: oddball22@hotmail.com Find my stories at: www.geocities.com/kaiphantom2000 Ranma 1/2: New Challenges Trials Chapter 3 It was late in the afternoon when the elderly man heard his front door slowly swing open, it's hinges creaking ominously. His brow wrinkled in thought, as he tried to figure out who would be coming to visit him. "Who's there?" he called out. The young, exhausted, female voice that answered him, was almost musical to his ears. "It's just me, grandfather." The old man quickly grabbed his cane and hobbled into the foyer. As he beheld the young girl standing there, his eyes lit up, joy flooding his heart. "Akari-chan! You've come home!" Akari's eyes began to glisten, even as her lower lip began to tremble. "Oh, grandfather!" she cried, flying into his arms and sobbing into his chest. She came home because she thought she had cried out all her tears, but seeing her grandfather again had reminded her of how she failed. "There, there child," he soothed, rubbing her back with his hands. "What has happened to you?" But Akari gave him no reply as she continued to suffocate her tears into his robes. Instead, he gently guided her into the dining room and guided her to kneel on a cushion by the table. "Just sit down and rest awhile while I go make some tea," he told her soothingly. "Then you can tell your grandfather all about it." Akari sniffed, but reluctantly let go of the last of her family while he hobbled into the kitchen. She wondered exactly what to tell him. She sniffed again and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve. That's when she found a kleenex in front of her face. "Here child, use this." "Th-thank you, grandfather," was all Akari could manage while she blew her nose. Afterward, she accepted the cup of tea and took a slow sip, savoring the warmth, aroma, and taste. As she put the cup down, she found herself considerably calmer. "Now, take a deep breath and tell me how you feel," her grandfather instructed. Akari did as he asked, long accustomed to listening to his wisdom and following his advice. "I... I do feel better. Arigato nasai, grandfather." The elderly Unryuu patriarch sat back on his shins and smiled, knowing his granddaughter would soon tell him everything. And she did. Mousse sensed movement, woke up, and managed to replace his glasses just in time to see Shampoo lunge at him. He immediately recoiled and quacked in fear, but the human-cat hybrid pounced and grabbed him anyway, his glasses falling off in the process. She opened her mouth and rested her teeth on the duck's neck, preparing to break it and end the duck's struggling. Shampoo paused, sensing something familiar. She slowly stood up and took her trembling would-be meal out of her mouth. Holding it up, she gazed into it's face and, for a second, another face superimposed itself onto the duck's. It was a brief image of a boy with long-black hair and glasses, and behind those glasses, lurked a pair of beautiful blue eyes. She gasped and dropped the duck. "Mou... Mousse?" The duck pulled another pair of glasses out his wings and put them on, then looked up and quacked affirmative at her. Anger flitted across the feral girl's face. "Stupid Mousse," she mumbled, then turned around and went in search of some food. "Always get in Shampoo's way. Shampoo should eat stupid duck. Then finally be rid of stupid Mousse." Despite her pre-occupation with Mousse, Shampoo's senses still detected the attack, albeit barely. She leaned out of the way as the sword slashed it's way across her path, then jumped back, scanning for her attacker. An almost silent wind change was her only warning. She ducked and sprang as a sword traveled over her head, missing it by bare centimeters. Her hand swiped out in the location she thought her assailant to be, but caught only empty air. was the only thought she had time for, when a fist impacted her midsection. Shampoo had been trained for battle from a very young age. She had been toughened up and taught how to take pain. It was similiar to the training Ryoga had been through to learn the Bakusai Tenketsu, though not as painful. Instead, it was more mind-focused. In battle, she could distance her mind from the pain she was receiving in order to better deliver her counter attacks. It was a standard martial arts feat, that only some of the best martial artists could accomplish. It had helped her defeat her villages top fighters and become the best of her generation. It was something that she always relied upon, since it never failed her. Until now. Sharp, stabbing pain shot up and down her body as she buckled and folded around the fist. Her air flow was cut off and she lost all contact with her legs. Her mouth gaped open, but no scream could be emitted. As she collapsed to the ground, she heard the voice of her attackers for the first time. "Well, that was disappointing," came a light, male voice in Japanese. "What's so scary about these guys again, Zan?" Despite the agony flowing through her body, Shampoo still detected the second pair of footfalls land beside her. "Don't know, Zin," the male known as `Zan', replied in the same language. "The boss just wants these people taken out. At least we'll get a nifty bonus out of this." Shampoo's eyes finally cleared up enough to glimpse the pair standing above her. They were nearly identical in appearance and dress, though one was slightly taller than the other. Black, raggedy, form- fitting cloaks covered them from neck down to mid-thigh, though Shampoo could catch glimpses of black armor through small holes, and from where it stuck out of their cloaks. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" Several thrown knives, shuriken, and weighted chains accompanied the fiercely shouted command. Shampoo groaned. Thankfully, she could feel her strength returning. In another minute, she would be combat-worthy once more. The twin, youthful-looking individuals jumped clear of the barrage, though Shampoo noticed the shorther one moved a bit faster than his twin. They landed ten feet apart, with twin grins. Mousse, on the other hand, had stepped between them and Shampoo, and was brandishing a pair of tri-pronged claws menacingly. "Well, this should cure your disappointment, brother," Zan offered. "He looks somewhat worthy." His gaze switched to the half-cat girl that was slowly standing up behind Mousse. "But it looks like you didn't finish the freak-girl. Shame on you." Zin shrugged. "I don't leave jobs unfinished." "Then I'll take the boy," Zan said. "Agreed." The twins attacked. "You'll have to get through me first!" Mousse yelled as he swung forward to meet the dual charge. "Mousse, No!" Shampoo commanded, but it was no use. Then she blinked as the shorter one, Zin, seemed to blink momentarily, then head sideways and disappear. The raging Mousse seemed to pay that one no heed, and instead concentrated on the remaining member of the pair. He slashed out with the claws as Zan came into range, but the other boy easily dodged Mousse's strikes. That was all Shampoo was able to observe, as she came under an attack of her own. Zin materialized right in front of her with a cocky grin, startling the Amazon girl. Then she was forced on the defensive as the younger boy launched into a complex pattern of lightening fast punches and kicks. Shampoo backpedaled as fast as she could, while trying to fend off the overwhelming assault. It was all she could do to maintain an effective defense, but she knew it couldn't last. Another part of Shampoo's mind realized she had never been this fast either, and that it was because of this half- cat form. But she also realized the increased agility came at a price, when a punch she didn't see coming broke through her defenses and impacted her jaw. Her head snapped around and dizziness overclouded her mind. She dropped and rolled instinctively, barely avoiding the finishing strike. Apparently, her faster speed speed also meant a decreased toughness and ability to absorb pain. She came to rest face down in the dirt, then shakily tried to rise up on all fours. That was all she could manage while the waves of vertigo assaulted her. "Poor kitty," came the hated voice of her advesary. "Not as tough as she thought she was." The cockiness and arrogance of his tone bit through the pained haze of in her mind. Shampo's disorientation was now almost gone, but she feigned some more and waited until the sound of his footfalls indicated he was within range. Then, when he was almost next to her, her tail whipped out and curled itself around Zin's right leg. She gave a quick tug, then sprang and struck with her right clawed hand. Surprise was clearly evident on the strange boy's face as the cat-girl's claw raked across his chest. The cloak was reduced to rags, but her claws only scratched the black armor underneath. Shampoo continued to turn and brought her left hand up, backhanding her opponent across the face. Zin completed his fall and backflipped away, pulling his leg out of the tail hold. He reached a standing postion several meters away, an angry scowl covering his visage. "That hurt," he said, a tone of deepening anger in his voice. He reached up to brush away the trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "You'll pay for that, freak-girl." Shampoo was already starting to pant heavily and was dismayed her adversary didn't seem to have even broken a sweat yet. She then tried to supress the shiver of fear she felt as he pulled out a pair of katar, twelve inch long blades with horizontal handles. Zin grinned and hoisted the weapons in a cross pattern. "This time, I'm going to finish you pussycat." Mousse was having his own troubles. Shortly after the failed attack with the claws, which his opponent broke somehow, Mousse jumped back and prepared another long range attack. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to hit the one known as Zan with it, but he should be able to maneuver his enemy into a position where a follow-up attack would be successful. With a kiyah, he released another barrage of thrown weapons and chains and charged, but his opponent's reactions were not what he expected. Instead, Zan merely laughed and raised his arms in reply. Something long and green shot out of each of his cloaked arms, and batted all of Mousse's weapons out of the air. The myopic Amazon froze in astonishment as the tentacles continued to wave about in the air. He then shook off his surprise and dashed in to attack, but was forced back as Zan used the tentacles like whips to snap at Mousse. The hidden weapons master growled in frustration at his inablity to close with his opponent, and instead launched another long range weapon attack. The result was the same; none of the weapons got through but were instead swept from the sky by the whip-like appendages. He pulled out a katana and attempted to cut the tentacles, but he found it pulled from his grasp before he could use it. A hand ax was similarily neutrilized. Zan's maddening chuckle increased in volume as a second pair of tentacales emerged from the blackness of his cloaked arms. Mousse was continually forced back, and he was losing weapons as fast as he could pull them out in his attempts to fend off the quartet of sickly green whips. Finally, a single tentacle managed to work it's way inside his guard and spear his left shoulder. It withdrew, but the damage was done, as evident by the growing red stain on his white robe. Mousse grabbed his shoulder in pain, but that just opened him up to a few more spear strikes by the suddenly sharp living whips. Shampoo managed a glance over to Mousse just in time to witness the barrage of strikes. Her throat became tight as she witnessed Mousse being driven to his knees, and she caught sight of the red on his robe. "Mousse!" she cried, but her moment's distraction cost her. Zin charged in, flickering as he seemed to skip several meters of space. Shampoo backpedaled, but the blade of the katar left it's own red wake across her right shoulder. She realized it wasn't a deep cut, but she knew the loss of blood would start to slow her down. Flashes of sliver were her only indications of attacks, but she couldn't avoid them all, and she could barely see her rapidly moving advesary behind them. More cuts appeared across her body, arms, and legs, and the wave of dizziness started to return. A spin kick caught her in the gut, and she went tumbling to the ground. With a sickening realization, Shampoo knew she was going to die. Ryoga-buta had yet to make any sort of movement from where he was tucked into the arm of the apparently blind old man that carried him. On the ground, the black dog that had found him in the mud skipped about, as if he somehow sensed the pork delicacy he would have tonight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ryoga got the feeling of familiarity, but was stuck too deep in his depression to care at the moment. It wasn't long before the dirt road led them to a cabin in the forest, and the old man brought Ryoga inside. He was plopped on the table and he could hear the sound of a fire being started in the fireplace. The dog barked and pranced around the room happily. "Won't be long, boy," the old man said cheerfully. "And then we'll have ourselves a real good pork dinner." "Woof!" "What I don't understand, are these clothes and backpack we found," the old man continued. "I feel a strong sense of ki within them, and especially within these bandannas. Who would leave them out in the open like that?" The buzzing sensation in the back of Ryoga's brain increased tenfold. Something was very familiar about this situation. With great reluctance, he finally brough his eyes up to behold the blind man feeling one of his bandannas. A black bandanna was tied around the old man's bald head, and his eyes were closed. The old, faded jeans he was wearing had several holes in them, as did the brown shirt. Suddenly, he remembered he had been here before. His pig ears came up and he squealed in surprise. The man's head came around at Ryoga's squeal. "What's that little piggy? Do you know who this stuff belongs to?" The pig nodded his head furiously, then realized the man wouldn't be able to see his head nodding. He desperately looked around, wondering where some hot water was when he needed it. His eyes eventually fell upon the cooking pot sitting over the fire. he realized. He had lost track long ago of the many times he had been dropped in cooking pot of boiling water, only to enact the change and run away naked. The old man walked over to the table and picked the pig up by it's bandanna. "Well, anyway, time for this little guy to become our dinner." The rest was predictable and, in the end, Ryoga was getting dressed while a confused old man was sitting on the floor and wondering what happened. A spilled pot of hot water was on the floor, and the dog was cowering in the corner. "Sensei!" Ryoga exclaimed when he finished dressing. "I can't believe it's you!" The old man's ears perked up at the familiar voice. "Ryoga-san? Is that you?" The lost boy bowed."Yes, sensei." The old man stood up and walked over to Ryoga, then reached his hands out to feel the boy's face. "So it is you." *BOP!* "Ow!" Ryoga exclaimed while rubbing his head. "What was that for!?" The old man replaced his bandanna after using it to whack Ryoga. "A student never walks out on his sensei until the training is finished!" "But it wasn't my fault!" he protested. "I-I told you I... get lost easily." The old man turned around and walked back to the fire. "It's time you started taking responsiblity for your actions. It's true that you do get lost easily, but you never would have wandered away if you weren't so obssessed with getting your revenge." He turned back around and stared at Ryoga with sightless eyes. "Did you ever get your revenge, hmmm?" Ryoga's face reddened and he dropped his head. After he'd seen what Ranma had done at Jusendo, his desire for revenge had been dampened some. He realized then, that if Ranma had truely gone all out like he had on Saffron, Ryoga wouldn't stand a chance. He still had a desire to fight Ranma, but it wasn't as strong as it used to be. And then he found out Ranma considered him a friend and wanted to help him! How could he truly still consider Ranma an enemy? Someone to be hated? That question begat several others, all unpleasant. The answers to which, would mean he had spent several years on revenge when he had been the one at fault. Ryoga's old sensei took the silence as an answer. "So you didn't, did you?" He chuckled. "Count yourself lucky, then." Ryoga's head snapped up. "Whadda ya mean, lucky!?" "The path of revenge leads only to despair. Those that manage to get the revenge that they desperately seek, find their souls have been overcome by darkness. For them, there is little hope of turning back. But you have yet to fulfill your revenge quest, so there is still hope, but only if you give it up!" Thoughts of the bread feud, the missed fight in the empty lot, his Jusenkyo cursing, and all the humiliation he had received from Ranma, came back to him. "I can't! I can't stop until I'm better than Ranma!" "So, the object of your revenge has a name," the old man said thoughtfully. "Interesting. But I taught you the Iron Cloth technique, hoping the training would temper your spirit. Unfortunately, you disappeared before I could teach you everything." "There's more?" Ryoga asked, disbelievingly. "Of course there's more!" Ryoga's voice became very meek. "Would... you teach me more, sensei?" "Depends." The sensei eyed him. "Have you got someplace else to be?" The lost boy's thoughts turned to home, where only an empty house awaited him since both his parents were most likely lost again. Then he thought of Nerima, where Ranma and Akane were, but he couldn't face either one of them now. He knew Sakura was probably looking for him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. And lastly, he thought of an old farmhouse, where a sweet, young girl lived, that he loved, but who ran from him last time. Ryoga shook his head. "I've got nowhere else to go." Ukyo stared out the window of the train, wondering what she would face when she returned home. Her father, whom she hadn't seen for six years, was dying. How was she supposed to feel? He had never really wanted her around to begin with, since he had wanted a son instead. But when her mother died in giving birth to her, those chances were ruined. He didn't believe in remarrying, but he didn't particularly want a daughter either. So he gave her a boy's name and tried desperately tried to raise her as such, except when he attempted to pawn her off others. But nobody wanted their son to marry a girl who looked like a boy. So when she had become friends with Ranma, the Kuonji patriarch saw his chance. It would cost him the yatai, but he would finally be free of a child he never wanted. Only things didn't work out as well as he hoped. Genma stole the yatai and left Ukyo behind. Her father took up work in another restaurant, but considered Ukyo to no longer be his responsibility. She hung around for awhile, not knowing what else to do, but eventually the cold shoulder treatment of her father and the jeers of her peers forced her to leave. Outside, the scenery blended together, forming a never ending cascade of green grass and grey skies. The gentle vibrations of the train tried their best to soothe her, but it wasn't working. She was just too apprehensive. The same question pounded itself in her brain over and over. What awaited her at home? The campfire had dulled to small blaze, giving just enough light to see in the immediate area. That was fine, since there was only one individual there to absorb the light and heat. She puffed slowly on her pipe and drew the blanket tighter around her frail-looking body in an effort to stave off the cold of the night. she remarked to herself. Being rejected and expelled by her own people had not improved her attitude in the slightest. Instead, it had festered and grown like a cancerous sore. Revenge was all she lived for now. Well, that and power, but revenge was what kept her alive. She would not die, could not die. Not until all her enemies were laid out at her feet. "I will have my revenge," she whispered softly, but with conviction. "How the mighty have fallen," came mocking voice from the surroundings, echoing the old woman's earlier thoughts. Instantly, she went on the defnesive and scanned the vicinity, but detected nothing. "Who are you, who pretends to mock me? Why not come on out and see how far I have fallen for yourself?" A chuckle was her reply. "I think I will take your word for that. You see, I mean no disrespect. As a matter of fact, I am awed by your power." "Flattery will get you nowhere," the old woman stated gruffly. "But I've no time for games. So why don't you either get to the point, or leave." "Short and to the point," the male voice replied. "Very well, I shall show myself." Instanly she detected the arrival of her unseen conversationalist. She watched, unfazed, as he materialized into view, sitting cross-legged and floating several feet off the ground. A black cloak obscured his form and face, and a black aura surrounded him that she could only barely detect. A crystal ball floated in his lap and it swirled with many dark colors. He then removed his hood, baring his bald visage to her surprised gaze. "Who are you?" she asked, her brows knitting together. "Merely someone who would offer you what you want," he replied, his black pupils not reflecting the firelight. "Your chance at revenge." She scoffed. "And what do you want in return?" He smiled. "Why, the same thing as you. You see, you have particular skills we could use. And you can go where we cannot yet." "And where is that?" "The land of Wa," he replied. She blinked. "Japan? Why?" "It's a long story that I don't wish to go into right now." He dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. "Now, shall we work together for what we both want?" The old woman could feel the darkness eminating from the man, and she knew she'd be making a deal with the devil if she agreed. But her hunger for revenge and power was too strong, and she nodded. The man grinned evilly. "Excellent! Then you, Zhao Len, shall have your revenge against Ranma Saotome. And the Joketsuzoku shall be yours to command!" ------------------------------------ Author's Notes: I've always wondered where Ryoga learned his fighting techniques. Most of it seems to be based on brute strength, but he does have those tricks he does with his bandannas, belt, and umbrella. Where did he learn to do that stuff when it's shown he doesn't know how to do it as a kid?