Relatively Absent

by Togashi Gaijin

Chapter 8: Interregnum I

Suginami - Sunday, March 6th 1994

Ranma woke up suddenly. She glanced up to the clock on the edge of the bureau, which read 5:45 AM. “This is starting to become a habit,” she growled to herself in disgust. “One of the few times in my life I can sleep in as long as I want, and I’m waking up even earlier than usual.

Guardians require very little actual sleep, Ranma. However, if you wish to indulge in unstructured rest periods it is a trivial task to disengage the alarm monitor which is currently active.

“Morning, Eiko,” Ranma said, snuggling underneath the down-filled duvet. “Figured it would be something like that.” She burrowed even further down until only the very tip of her red pigtail could be seen from the outside.

Her eyes suddenly crossed. “Hey, does this mean I’ve got some sort of alarm clock stuck in my head now?”

Essentially, although the alarm monitor encompasses a significantly greater range of functions,” Eiko replied. “It is one of a number of autonomous utility routines which you can access without regard to your current transformation state.

“That’s nice,” Ranma mumbled. She closed her eyes and spent several minutes tossing and turning, trying without success to go back to sleep. She finally rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling in exasperation. “Great,” Ranma said with a sigh. She might as well just give up and get dressed … and if she hurried, she’d even make it outside in time to greet the sun.


“Midori-chan, may I come in, please?”

“Certainly, Obāsama,” the brown-eyed girl replied, her attention not wavering from the graceful performance outside.

Aiko frowned momentarily at the coldly formal tone of voice before suppressing a sigh. She really couldn’t blame the girl, after all. The Yamada matriarch glided silently over to the younger girl and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

“She looks so serene when she’s practicing … like she doesn’t have a care in the world,” Midori said in a soft voice.

“‘He’, dear, ‘he’,” Aiko admonished gently. “I know it’s difficult, but it’s especially important at the moment to try and think of Ranma as a ‘he’, not a ‘she’.”

“Yes, Obāsama,” Midori replied without inflection.

Aiko didn’t bother suppressing the sigh this time. “I’m sorry, Midori-chan. I didn’t come up here to discipline you further. In fact, I owe you a bit of an apology in regards to last night.”

Midori finally turned away from the window. She was moderately surprised to find that her grandmother was almost completely unmasked and that the wryly bemused grin Aiko had on display was directed entirely inward.

“I wasn’t entirely fair to you last night, was I?”

“Ummm … well, I don’t know, Obāsama,” Midori temporized. She didn’t want to sound petty and agree wholeheartedly, but at the same time … “I shouldn’t have left my surprise on display like I did last night – even Sis noticed it right away.”

“True,” Aiko replied with a nod. “However, the punishment meted out was entirely out of proportion with the transgression, and for that I apologize. I did have a reason for being so … emphatic, but it wasn’t fair to you when you had no knowledge of the most recent events which had taken place earlier in Nerima.”

Midori’s stomach plummeted through the floor. She could tell that, whatever Obāsama was about to tell her, it was NOT going to be good news for her sorely-beleaguered cousin. She shifted away from the window and sat down on the edge of her bed after her grandmother appropriated the reading chair by the window.

“Midori-chan, I am going to have to rely heavily on your assistance over the next several weeks,” the Yamada matriarch said. “I’ve come to trust your judgment in handling the girls and I see no reason to interfere with the synergy the four of you have developed over the last year.”

Midori nodded, wondering briefly about the obvious circumlocution.

“The day before you called home from the hospital with word of Ranma,” Aiko continued, “we decided to inform his mother about his apparent demise. I’ll admit to a certain amount of petty revenge, but I had also hoped to break my daughter away from Genma with the eventual goal of reclaiming our family ties.”

Midori’s throat had tightened during her grandmother’s discourse. She could easily see the problem this could create.

Aiko’s eyes were flint and the smile which previously graced her face had vanished. “I was – in part – successful. Nodoka visited the Tendōs yesterday and publicly declared Genma ronin. Evidently she also made a decent attempt at returning home with his head. Naturally, Genma fled the scene.”

Midori was somewhat surprised when Aiko shifted nervously in her seat.

“I wouldn’t be so worried if that was the extent of the damage. As much as Ranma undoubtedly still holds strong feelings for his father, a stable environment with his mother included as a part of the family would have eventually weaned him from his primary abuser.”

Aiko frowned slightly before continuing. “However, I’m afraid my darling daughter overreacted to the other item of information we included. I had Seiko compile a summary videotape of Ranma’s curse in action and let Haru-chan deliver it along with the rest to Nodoka in person. Not only did Nodoka declare Genma ronin, she also initiated blood feud against the Tendōs themselves.”

Midori couldn’t suppress her sharp intake of breath. This was bad, no, worse than bad for Ranma. She firmly suppressed a guilty little part of herself which was cheering loudly in celebration.

Her grandmother nodded in agreement. “You see the problem, especially considering his demonstrated feelings for the two Tendō girls.”

“Yes, Obāsama,” Midori replied. “What do you need me to do?”

“Good girl.” Aiko smiled with approval. “I need you to run interference with the girls, Midori-chan. Let them know what is happening while I try to straighten out the situation between Ranma-kun and my wayward daughter. Also, be especially gentle and supportive with Haru-chan. She’s going to blame herself for this whole situation, since it was at her initial request that we compiled the tape of Ranma’s curse. You must make her understand that the final decision was mine, and mine alone.”

Midori’s eyes were huge. “Hai, Obāsama.”

“One last thing,” Aiko continued, her smile softening. “Please do your best to suppress your, umm … artistic appreciation … around Ranma-kun for the next month or two. He’s going to need good friends – and only friends – around him for support to make it through this period. You have my complete blessings in the long term, Midori-chan; you know that. However, you will simply drive him away if he notices you drooling down his cleavage anytime in the near future.”

Midori was no longer overwhelmed; she was beet-red with embarrassment instead. “I’ll do my best, Obāsama.”

“I’m sure you will, Mi-chan,” Aiko said with a chuckle. She stood and nodded towards the door. “We should probably head downstairs – Kumiko will have breakfast ready right about now, and I for one do not want to earn her ire by being late to a meal twice in one week.”


Ehime, Shikoku

Nyu Xian Pu sighed. She really didn’t mind being out on the trail again, and she didn’t even mind being forced to carry all of their equipment as a form of “training”. She was an Amazon, after all, and proud of her strength. She could even tolerate carrying Mu Se along, especially since the stupid duck-boy was actually a duck at the time and the cage he was in had to be … delightfully uncomfortable. Xian Pu easily could shrug all of that off.

What she had trouble coping with was her great-grandmother’s presence on the very top of her backpack and the nonsensical comments and whooping noises she was voicing in some strange form of English. What in the Goddess’ name were “ridum cowboy” and “gettalong lil doggie” supposed to mean, anyway?

Oh well. At least they were getting near to Mount Horai was supposed to be. Maybe someone in that cluster of small farms ahead could give them better information than the idiots and perverts back in the resort town they had just left.


Suginami

“No …”

Aiko’s initial concern blossomed into full-fledged anxiety when she saw the depth of the despair that replaced the initial shock in her grandson’s eyes.

“No …” Ranma’s head swung slowly back and forth in denial.

There hadn’t been any realistic way of softening the blow, either – her daughter had left her very little room in which to maneuver. The best that could be hoped for was to extricate everyone involved from the tangle of obligations without resorting to fatalities. No one would remain totally unscathed, however.

“Ranma-kun …”

“… no …” Ranma clenched her eyes closed. “… no … no … no … no …” A trickle of moisture began to track down the cheeks of the red-headed girl.

“Ranma-kun,” Aiko tried gently to interject, “there are a few things we can …”

“NO!” Ranma yelled, voice thick with anguish. A brief shudder rippled through her body before she quite literally disappeared from in front of the Yamada matriarch’s eyes.

Aiko slumped visibly in her seat at the table.

“Damnation.”


Elsewhere

Ranma stumbled over to the Gate and collapsed to her knees face-first against one of its supporting columns, the nausea from the untransformed teleport simply adding to her turmoil.

Ranma?

“Why,” Ranma croaked. She clenched her fist and slammed it against the column.

THUD.

That hurt. Good.

“Why,” she choked out again. THUD.

That hurt even more.

Ranma, that isn’t a good idea.

THUD.

The physical pain was a welcome distraction.

Ranma, you …

THUD.

… really need …

THUD.

… to calm down.

Ranma threw back her head and screamed. She cocked her fist back; an oily miasma of nauseating green-black ki boiled around her fist and forearm.

[Beta Override enabled]

RANMA, …

The fist shot forward with her entire strength behind it.

… STOP!

Ranma instantly froze in place when every voluntary muscle in her body locked simultaneously for a brief moment.

[Beta Override disengaged]

She slowly turned her head to look at her clenched fist.

I’m sorry, Ranma, but as Guardian you are one of the few beings actually capable of inflicting permanent damage on my physical housing.

Ranma slowly turned her head back to stare at the fist-shaped dents in the column support.

She blinked. Twice.

“Oh kami, Eiko. I’m sorry, I wasn’t … I didn’t mean …”

Understood, Ranma. You have been subjected to a number of consecutive crises without being given sufficient time to properly reintegrate yourself. Such displays are to be expected. However, I would appreciate if, in the future, you could target your frustrations towards an object which wasn’t quite as delicate as one of my temporal stasis pods.

Ranma nodded silently.

I can direct you to several locations where you can engage in intense localized destruction without inflicting permanent damage or attracting undue attention. This would also allow you to familiarize yourself with the first of your basic Guardian attack and defense spells.

Ranma slowly got to her feet. She took a deep breath before nodding once.

“Sure, why not. What the hell. I’ve got to get used to those damn heels at some point anyway.”


Nerima

A deep chime disturbed Nodoka’s meditations. The sound represented something of importance, but the interruption was brief and quickly dismissed. The kendoka did not practice zazen, but her training allowed her to reach hishiryo without it and she basked in the serenity of thought without thoughts.

A second chime intruded a short time later, insistently demanding her attention. It represented a solution, and answer of some form and it served as a focus for the kendoka’s will. Hishiryo was abandoned with a flash of regret when awareness of the outside world was finally restored.

The door gong was struck for a third time. The timing was early but not unreasonably so.

Nodoka stood up from the table, pausing for a few seconds when a brief wave of dizziness washed through her. The kendoka’s first thought was that she was out of practice; her second resulted in a mirthless chuckle when she realized the absurdity of that reaction. She secured her daisho and took a deep breath to center herself. The kendoka picked up the scroll and tanto before striding calmly to the front door.

The man on the other side of the door was quite dashing. Black suit, red tie, rugged good looks – Nodoka would have deemed him quite ‘manly’. The kendoka did not, having forbidden herself from ever uttering that phrase again.

“Yamada-san,” the man said with a bow, “your mother requests your immediate presence. If you will please accompany me, there is a car waiting to transport you to her house in Suginami-ku.”

Nodoka nodded in acknowledgement. She strode out of the house, pausing only long enough to close the door. The expensive black limousine waiting at the street was no surprise; she entered the vehicle without a second thought. Considering her mother’s family, anything less would have aroused her suspicion. She was grateful it provided such an efficient shield from the mad cacophony of Tokyo traffic.

Yamada-san. It had been nearly two decades since the last time anyone had addressed her by that name. Now it represented a priceless gift from her mother. Another priceless gift had been bestowed upon her by a young red-headed girl with emerald eyes. Harukichi. She was the proper age to be one of many nieces the kendoka had yet to meet. She would be thanked for her gift of honor.

She had her answer now. Once the kendoka verified her mother had also so honored her son, she would be more than content to greet her ancestors.


Suginami

Aiko stared dejectedly at her cup, the remaining tea within had long since turned cold. Damn it all, she had counted on being able to talk to Ranma-kun long enough to explain some of the options available to them. That vanishing act had been … unexpected, and extremely ill-timed.

“Okusama?”

Aiko looked up and over to the hallway door where Seiko was now standing. She quickly composed herself when she saw her advisor escorting a young man who had an irregularly shaped cloth bundle cradled under his arm.

“Yes, Seiko?”

“Imagawa-san from the Nerima Ward Office has requested a few moments of your time.”

Aiko smiled in greeting. This must be an unofficial visit; the bureaucrat was out of uniform.

“Welcome to Yamada-ke, Imagawa-san. Please take a moment and join me for a cup of tea.”

The nondescript official gave the Yamada matriarch an extremely deep bow – for a moment Aiko was afraid the man was going to get down and kowtow. “Yamada-sama, it sorrows me greatly that my current duties prevent me from accepting your most generous offer. I have been requested to deliver this to you.” He walked over and placed the bundle down on the table.

Aiko watched impassively while Imagawa-san repeated his bow and tried backing out of the room. She didn’t find his miss of the doorway, followed by a panicked scramble to locate the proper exit path, amusing in the least – the man was quite obviously terrified. Seiko followed him out after a brief exchange of signs.

She hoped that the contents of the parcel contained the information she’d requested earlier. Idle fools with more money than brains should never be allowed to breed in the first place, and minor pests were best dealt with well before they turned into serious opponents.

“Naomi-chan?” Aiko caroled out.

A few seconds later the black-haired maid entered the room from the kitchen doorway. “Hai, Yamada-sama?”

“Please prepare another tea for Seiko and myself. I’m afraid I let this one get a trifle cold.”

“Hai, Yamada-sama.”

Aiko gave the mysterious bundle a quizzical look before moving it aside to make room for the tea service. She allowed Naomi to pour her a fresh cup before relaxing to wait patiently for her friend’s return. The delay was longer than expected – she consumed half the cup’s contents before Seiko reentered the room and sat down next to her at the table. The two sat together in companionable silence until Aiko finished her tea.

“How did Ranma-kun take the news?”

“Not well,” Aiko said with a sigh. “He vanished before I was able to do more than tell him about yesterday’s events at Tendo-ke.”

“Damn,” Seiko replied in kind. “I was afraid of something like that when I saw your expression a few minutes ago.”

“I know. I just hope he comes back.”

“Was it that bad?”

Aiko nodded. “Possibly.” She set her tea cup aside and slid the parcel back over in front of her. “Well, let’s see what our friends have managed to find out about the Three Stooges.” Aiko unknotted the drawstring before upending the courier bag and carefully shaking the contents out on the table. A half dozen scrolls tumbled out, each marked with a distinctive clan mon.

Aiko turned sheet white. “No …” she whispered, not hearing Seiko’s sharp intake of breath or the crash of shattered pottery which followed immediately afterward. She snatched the lone unbound scroll from the table and quickly unrolled it to unveil the final registry entries. The scroll clattered to the table. Fists clenched, knuckles white, the Yamada matriarch’s entire body began to tremble.

“Nodoka, you fool,” Aiko hissed. “What have you DONE?!?”


Elsewhere

“Khronos Guardian Power, Make Up!”

Ranma gritted her teeth as she endured the humiliating display once again.

Ranma, that’s the thirteenth consecutive transformation cycle you’ve completed. Do you find yourself any closer on being able to initiate and control the sequence directly?

“Not really,” Ranma growled. “I can feel something, but only after the damn thing has already finished.”

That is to be expected. It takes considerable experience in directing the various spells before one is able to identify and isolate the various force taps from your individual mana pool, and the transformation sequence has traditionally been one of the more difficult spells to master.

“It figures.”

You would be well advised to begin by learning the basic attack and defense spells first. The power flows are of higher intensity and significantly less convoluted in those sequences, and are subsequently easier to identify.

“Well, no one ever said it would be easy,” Ranma grumbled. “However, I do have to wonder what idiot came up with the whole sequence idea. Jeez, even without considering the stupid ecchi outfits, if I ever got into a situation where I really needed the power-up, the fight would be long over with before I could transform.”

I’m not quite sure I understand, Ranma.

“Oh, come on, Eiko,” Ranma huffed. “The damned transformation easily takes over a minute and a half – I’ve had entire fights take less time than that!”

Eiko chuckled. “Ranma, the entire transformation sequence takes approximately one point six nine oh four seconds to complete from beginning to end.

“NO WAY! I can feel every one of those damned ribbons individually!”

Nevertheless, the transformation sequence is completed in well under two seconds. The spell temporarily boosts your temporal perception at a ratio of sixty to one; for every minute of perceived time only a single second of real time actually elapses. It is a training sequence, after all.

“Oh,” Ranma replied. “Okay, two seconds isn’t so bad. I’d still like to strangle the bozo who came up with these outfits, however.”

You will discover that the Guardian uniform is practical as well as decorative, Ranma,” Eiko said, mirth still evident in its mental voice. “Now, if you will stand directly in front of my enclosure’s primary doorway, it is time you learned how to access and control the spatial-temporal event viewer.


Suginami

Seiko watched nervously while the diminutive Yamada matriarch fumed. She could tell it was taking all of the older woman’s willpower to just sit there and think instead of leaping up and throwing everything within reach across the room.

Aiko forced her temper down with difficulty. Of all the stupid things she had ever done, THIS one certainly topped them all by a wide margin. The current situation had NO up side to it at all. At best it could permanently alienate Ranma from the family, and would more than likely topple the precarious balance currently maintained between her and her sons and trigger an internecine power struggle which would completely rip the clan apart.

The only even remote chance she now had of salvaging both the clan and her unexpectedly-ronin offspring would require them to be adopted by an unrelated Nisei family and sent away to live in the States for at least a decade. She’d have to call in a large number of favors quite rapidly to make it happen, and it was horribly unfair to inflict that on Ranma after all the poor boy had just been through.

Of course, she could simply retire and hand control of the clan over to her eldest son, but the consequences of that action were … unpleasant in the extreme. Neither Ichiro nor Jiro had ever wanted anything to do with the family Art. They’d both insist on making her immediately dismantle the various networks she had built up so carefully over the decades, without caring that such a hasty action would put virtually every one of her associates at risk.

Not to mention the distinct possibility of significant backlash to the clan itself, including their own family members – a danger neither of her sons had been willing to acknowledge in the past.

DAMN that girl! Aiko was almost tempted to accede to her daughter’s request, except it wouldn’t be fair to punish her for something that basically wasn’t her fault – and such an action would be certain to destroy Ranma completely. She now realized that she had subconsciously expected her daughter to behave according to her training instead of acting in such an … extreme … manner.

“Seiko?”

“Yes, Okusama?”

Aiko began putting the Saotome registry scrolls back into their bag. “We’re going to have to start implementing a number of our remote contingency plans. Concentrate on Ranma’s and the girls’ trusts first and make sure everyone has up-to-date passports.”

“Hai, Okusama.”

“Contact our friends stateside and find out if there are any extended safe houses available for Ranma and his mother. Burn whatever credit we have to make that happen.”

“Hai.”

“Also, start putting out the word on the …” Aiko frowned when the hallway door opened. “Yes, what is it, Jun-chan?”

The green-haired maid bowed briefly. “I apologize for the interruption, Yamada-sama, but Mugonno-san is here with two of his associates. He requested that I deliver this to you immediately.”

Aiko felt a headache coming on. That’s all she needed now, a new job request – right in the middle of a major crisis. She held a hand out for the sealed envelope as Jun walked over to the table.

“Please inform Mugonno-san that I will be available in …”

The Yamada matriarch choked off her comment when she saw the chrysanthemum seal emblazoned on the envelope.

“… that it is convenient for me to meet with him now.”


Southesk Tablelands, Western Australia

Guardian Khronos spent a full minute gazing about at the vast expanse of scrub blanketing the plateau in all directions.

“Kami-sama, I see what you mean by not having to worry about attracting attention here, Eiko. There’s not a lot in the way of obstacles around, is there?”

No, there is not. This location has the additional advantage in that any damage inflicted to the terrain over the next several weeks will be repaired quite rapidly, at least until the end of the current monsoon season.

Khronos nodded. “I wondered why it was so green in the Outback.” She looked over to the Primary Key in her right hand, the heart-shaped Garnet Orb at its top glowing softly in the morning light. She could see why P-chan had used that odd two-handed style when wielding it in their first fight – the various protrusions and ornamentations up and down the length of the staff would make it nearly impossible to employ most of the standard bo forms.

Wait a minute …

“Key Battle Mode Engage.”

Khronos watched while the Key quickly smoothed itself out. All of the protrusions collapsed into the main shaft and the Orb narrowed and lengthened until it became an integral part of the upper shaft. She was left holding a two meter long staff, the top marked by a twenty centimeter section of solid garnet set back about ten centimeters from the staff’s end.

“Okaaaay …”

Very good, Ranma. I will caution that you will be limited strictly to attack and defense spells when the Primary Key is configured for Battle Mode. In addition, spells can only be directed through the top end of the staff where the Garnet Orb is embedded. The Key’s Battle Mode must be disabled before you will be able to access your entire repertoire of Guardian spells.

Khronos swung the staff around experimentally for a moment before flowing into the opening of a beginning bo kata. She stopped about halfway through – the Key now handled almost exactly the same as one of her practice bos.

“Eiko, not that I’m complaining or anything,” she said with a puzzled look, “but can you tell me how the heck I knew how to do that in the first place?”

A Guardian is automatically supplied with complete knowledge of the various spell trigger phrases, Ranma – this knowledge was provided as part of the imprinting procedure when you assumed office. Your internal status monitor makes a set of the triggers available to your conscious mind based upon your current ability to command the various mana flows. The spells and their associated triggers are grouped into one of five levels of increasing power and complexity. Your considerable pre-Guardian training has allowed you to start at the third power level.

Khronos frowned. “Wait a minute, Eiko. Are you saying that I already know how to use all of this Guardian stuff already? Isn’t that like … well … cheating?”

She felt Eiko’s mirth in its voice. “Not at all. Ranma, the knowledge which has been provided to you should be considered to be the equivalent of your martial arts training scrolls. You are being provided with the proper tools with which to learn. Simply knowing the spell triggers does not provide you with the wisdom of knowing when it is appropriate to employ a particular spell, nor does it enable you to wield your magics in an efficient manner. I would be sorely disappointed if you were content just to use the default spell triggers and their automated invocation sequences without attempting to constantly improve both your usage efficiency and your understanding of the underlying principles involved. Both will require a significant effort on your part and will continually challenge your learning and comprehension skills on an ongoing basis.

Khronos nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. It’s sort of like practicing katas.”

Precisely, except that most of the practice required to truly master the Guardian’s various abilities is of a mental nature as opposed to a physical one.

“Right. So what’s first on the list?”

Two of the Guardian attack spells are direct analogues to a pair of your special ki techniques. Scarlet Storm is equivalent to the Mōko Takabisha, and Khronos Typhoon is similar to the Hiryū Shōten Ha. You will be pleased to know that the Khronos Typhoon does not require leading your opponent into a spiral path, nor is it dependent on maintaining differing ki temperatures. You would be advised to practice each attack several times consecutively so that you can obtain a better understanding on how your internal mana flows are constructed and controlled.

The Guardian nodded in understanding. Hefting her battle staff in one hand, she began the first of many training sessions now ahead of her. Wisps of radiant energy coalesced around her staff as she initiated her first magical attack.

“Scarlet … STORM!”


Suginami

Aiko sat patiently while Jun ushered the three … agents … into the room. Mugonno-san she knew from previous visits; he was as non-descript as ever. Average height, average weight, features neither excessively hard nor soft, average-length black hair, brown eyes, and dressed in the average salaryman’s suit and tie. Change the outfit and he would blend in practically anywhere. Aiko knew he was somehow connected to the Imperial staff, but that was about it – his background had been so tightly constructed even her networks hadn’t been able to find out much about him. Aiko respected the effort that level of detail required.

His two companions, however, were an interesting study in contrast. The first simply screamed “Intelligence”; he was wearing the current unofficial uniform of the National Intelligence Directorate, consisting of a black suit, white shirt, red tie, and black spit-polish shoes, and had the rugged good looks common to most upper-level field agents. The other appeared to be a Nisei in American Navy dress whites. Aiko noted the man was exceedingly handsome: six foot one, one eighty five, mid-twenties, short platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, perfectly chiseled features, athletic build, and a gait which implied considerable combat experience. Of course, the large quantity of service ribbons and awards on his jacket did nothing to dispel the predatory aura surrounding the Navy officer, nor did the SEAL insignia that sat on top the rows of ribbons. Although his presence here implied some sort of liaison position – American NSA, most likely – Aiko wouldn’t be at all surprised if his family belonged to one of the Clans.

Mugonno walked up to the table opposite Aiko and waited for his companions to stop on either side before bowing.

“Yamada-dono.”

“Mugonno-san.”

“May I present my two associates: Shiroi-san, …” Mugonno turned slightly to his right.

“Yamada-dono.” The black suited agent bowed sharply to the Yamada matriarch

“Shiroi-san,” Aiko replied with a nod.

“… and Lieutenant Commander Kuroi.” Mugonno turned slightly to his left.

“Yamada-dono,” the Navy officer said with a bow.

“Kuroi-san,” Aiko replied with another nod before addressing the group as a whole. “Please be seated, gentlemen, and join me for a cup of tea.”

Mugonno bowed once more. “Many pardons, Yamada-san, but before we partake in your generous hospitality, could you do the favor of reading my lord’s letter?”

Aiko arched an eyebrow and held Mugonno’s eyes for exactly two seconds before turning her attention to the sealed envelope in front of her. Opening the letter revealed a single sheet of folded parchment. The content of the message was … unexpected.

It is our pleasure to extend an invitation to our honorable servant Aiko Yamada, her daughter Nodoka Yamada, granddaughters Ranko Yamada, Midori Yamada, family and staff, to attend us on this, the Sixth day of March in the year Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Four, for a cup of tea.

Signed,
His Imperial Majesty Hitomaro, Emperor of Japan, Grand Cordon of the Supreme Order of the Chrysanthemum, Order of the Rising Sun, Order of the Sacred Treasure, Knight of the Garter, Grand Cross of the Order of St. Olav.

Her Imperial Majesty Chikako, Empress of Japan, Order of the Precious Crown, Order of the Sacred Treasure.

“Please make the proper arrangements, Seiko-chan,” Aiko said, handing the invitation over to her friend and aide. “In the meantime, gentlemen, do me the honor of sitting with me for a moment. Naomi-chan was just about to serve tea before you arrived.”


Seiko allowed her worry to show once she was out in the hallway. An Imperial summoning, and there could be no other possible interpretation, with Ranma-kun personally named by his female personae did not bode well – especially considering no one knew exactly where he was at the moment. She hurried over to the house phone and dialed a five digit number, then hung up the handset and waited.

It took several minutes for the household staff to assemble in the foyer. Naomi was still attending Aiko and her guests, but everyone else was now present. Seiko nodded sharply before addressing the group.

“Aiko-sama and the family have been invited to the Imperial Palace for tea. Kumiko, Naomi, and Jun will be coming along; everyone else will assist with the preparations.”

“Genjo,” she said, looking at the Yamada chauffeur, “we’ll be taking both limousines today; Izo will be your other driver, Shiki-kun will help you prepare the cars. Hisato-san, you’ll be in charge while we’re gone. Handle the door duties and inform me the instant Ranma-kun returns.”

Seiko turned towards the female members of the staff. “Sumiko’s in charge of the kitchen until we get back. Jun, we’ll be wearing full formals, so take Mariko with you and start assembling everyone’s outfits. Don’t forget about Ranma-kun. Kumiko, open up the Bamboo and Blossom rooms as a staging area. Asako will help. I don’t know how long it will be until Ranma-kun returns, so make sure everyone has a place to sit comfortably once they’re dressed.”

“Dismissed.” The staff members quickly hustled off to their assigned tasks. Seiko picked up the house phone once more and began dialing Midori’s cell phone number.


Southesk Tablelands

Blink: Khronos’ staff disappeared when she stuffed it into storage space.

Blink: the staff reappeared in her hand when she pulled it back out again.

Blink: stored. Blink: retrieved. Blink: stored. Blink: retrieved. Blink: stored. Blink: retrieved.

“Now this is cool!” Khronos beamed, quite pleased with herself. “I won’t have to worry about leaving it around for someone else to grab when I get into a fight.”

Ranma, you will need to be considerably more cautious in determining which opponent can be safely engaged in physical combat. The majority of the entities you will face as Guardian will not hesitate to kill you if you give them the opportunity, nor will they avoid inflicting casualties on innocent bystanders. A significant number of them actually revel in causing wanton death and destruction. You must fully embrace the Warrior’s philosophy when entering battle as Guardian.

Khronos deflated visibly. “You sure know how to kill a mood, you know that?” She straightened up and sighed. “Look, I know I’ll be forced to make that decision at some point, but I’d like to delay that as long as possible. I haven’t had to kill anyone yet and I have no plans to do so unless there is absolutely no other way around it.”

She stored her staff and held her hands out in front of her. “Eiko, I’ve been capable of killing with my bare hands for a long time now. I don’t think that anyone outside of Pops realizes just how much I have to pull my punches to avoid injuring or killing someone when we spar. I don’t really like using a weapon; it’s a lot easier determining the exact force of a punch or a kick than it is for a blade or a staff. Even then, there really aren’t many folks around who can take an honest punch. Ryōga’s about the only friend I have who can.”

“Still,” Khronos continued with a wry grin, “I will admit there are times when having a bo around is rather handy – especially when Mousse goes off on one of his blind temper tantrums. And that brings up an interesting question.”

She concentrated for a moment before disappearing.


Khronos looked around at the interior of the room. “Oops, wrong dōjō,” she said quietly with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, well …”

The fuku-clad girl traversed the familiar path over to the storage cabinet where the practice weapons were stored. She was pleasantly surprised that her boots didn’t echo with each step across the hardwood floor. The staves were leaning up against the side of the cabinet in a small barrel – she picked out her favorite, a six-shaku white oak bo, and smirked when it vanished into her storage space as easily as the Key had.

Guardian Khronos returned to the Outback, leaving the Tendō dōjō as silently as she had arrived.


“Now, let’s see if this works the way I think it does.” Khronos concentrated for a moment.

[Battle Mode disengaged]

Ranma wasn’t expecting the whispered comment or the brief delay which preceded her detransformation. Frowning, she pulled the Key out of storage. It had reverted to its original form.

“I’ll have to remember that,” she said to no one in particular before stashing the staff back into storage. “Now …” She pulled the white oak bo out with no more effort than she had when she was transformed. She tried a few more times.

Blink: stored. Blink: retrieved. Blink: stored. Blink: retrieved. Blink: stored.

“Okay, now for the real test.” Ranma began one of her intermediate kata which favored mostly defensive moves. Blocks and redirections flowed effortlessly out amongst the punches and kicks of the deceptively graceful dance until suddenly a bo was in her hands and she launched herself into the offensive. The ends of the staff whistled sharply through the air as the martial artist executed a series of complicated and acrobatic attacks before returning to the defensive once more.

Ranma spent well over an hour performing different styles of kata while pulling the bo in and out of storage at various points. She quickly discovered that, while she could easily store and retrieve the staff with either hand, the staff could only be sent in and out of storage while it was in a nearly vertical position and she could only use one hand at a time to access the storage space. Once Ranma felt she understood both the requirements and limitations of accessing her storage space, she began improvising new kata that took full advantage of this new ability.

The redhead finally stopped and nodded in satisfaction – this was going to be very useful in the future. She stored the bo for a final time before pulling out the Primary Key.

“Khronos Guardian Power, Make Up!”

Ranma concentrated on trying to feel the flows of magic surrounding her as the transformation sequence played out. It was quite frustrating that she could only perceive the magic after the entire sequence had completed.

At least she didn’t have to spout off any corny “love and justice” sayings; the stupid pose at the end of the sequence was bad enough.

[Battle Mode engaged]

“Huh?” Khronos watched while the Key automatically morphed back into its fighting staff form. She was sufficiently startled that she held the transformation’s end pose for several seconds longer than absolutely necessary.

Battle Mode is persistent between transformations, Ranma. The Key must be configured for standard mode before the transformation sequence can be invoked, so anytime you detransform while in Battle Mode it will automatically disengage Battle Mode and restore it when you retransform.

“Nice,” Khronos nodded. “Hmmm. You know, I wonder …” She stored the Key before taking a deep breath.

“Scarlet … STORM!”

A vibrant ball of bright red-orange energy shot away from the smirking Guardian. “*Thought* so!” She frowned suddenly. “Eiko, was that shot less powerful than before or am I just imagining things?”

You are quite correct in your assessment. The Garnet Orb acts as an amplifier to all of your spells, increasing their relative power by a significant amount. The lower level attacks are the ones most affected by this power boost. Also note that the use of the Primary Key is required in order to invoke nearly all of the mid and upper level spells, including the Khronos Typhoon.

“Hmmm.” Khronos’ smirk returned full force. “Heh. Well, there’s more than one way around that. Mōko …” She concentrated part of her essence into her hands.

“… Takabisha!” A bright white ball of ki, slightly tinged with blue, shot off into the distance.

Ranma, you may wish to start employing a different focus phrase for your ki attacks while you are in a transformed state. The trigger phrase you are currently using is quite distinctive and could easily reveal your identity to an opponent. In addition, you should avoid using any emotional focus for your ki attacks – you will find that they are no longer necessary and they have the additional disadvantage of being quite self-destructive in the long term.

“Huh?” Khronos stopped her practice to concentrate on her partner’s words. “Why do you say that?”

Constant use of an emotional focus will eventually link the emotion directly to your ki flows. This then becomes the basis for all of your thoughts and emotions. For example, your ‘friend’ Ryōga would be increasingly prone to suicide the longer he continues to employ the depression-based Shishi Hōkōdan. Your use of confidence as a focus would eventually lead to your death in combat, since you would be inclined to ignore the actual dangers involved in favor of basing your decisions more and more on a false feeling of invincibility.

Khronos stood stunned.

I believe that is a sufficiently valid reason to discontinue the use of an emotional trigger for your ki attacks, is it not?

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes wide. “It sure is.”


Suginami

Aiko suppressed her momentary mirth behind the rim of her teacup. The young Nisei officer was doing quite well in suppressing his fidgeting, but it was also obvious he was used to leading from the front.

The hallway door opened long enough for Seiko to step into the room. “Pardon for the interruption, Okusama.”

Aiko nodded to her assistant. “Seiko.”

“Your daughter has arrived from Nerima-ku and requests a few moments of your time.”

“Indeed,” Aiko replied. She turned back to the three men seated opposite at the table after Seiko exited the room. “If you will please excuse me for a moment, gentlemen.”

“Certainly, Yamada-dono,” Muggono said with a nod as Aiko stood up. “May I inform his Majesty’s staff of an approximate time for our departure?”

Aiko allowed a small part of her worry to show on her face. “Please convey my most sincere apologies to his Majesty and inform his staff that we will be unavoidably delayed for an indeterminate length of time. I’m afraid that Ranma-kun left rather abruptly shortly before you arrived, and he did not leave me with any indication on how long he would be out.”

“Yamada-dono?” The Nisei officer held up a small cell phone. “Perhaps I may be of some assistance?”

Aiko gave the commander an enigmatic smile. “You are certainly welcome to try, Kuroi-san. I would be most pleasantly surprised if you could locate him in such a manner. Now, if you will excuse me.” She gave the three men a brief nod of acknowledgement before walking unhurriedly out of the room.


Katsu Mugonno hid a smirk as he watched the young commander dial. The Americans were always so proud of their intelligence technology and their ability to monitor everything at any time. Given Yamada-san’s parting comment, this should prove to be … entertaining.

“Shinobi Two, status on Wild Colt.”

Kuroi frowned a moment later. “Negative, Wild Colt has left the stable. Check skywatch log from ten zero zero zero lima to zero eight zero zero lima and report back.” He closed the phone with a bit more force than necessary.

“A problem, Kuroi-san?” Mugonno inquired.

“It shouldn’t be, Mugonno-san.”

Mugonno nodded once before taking a sip from his cup. He carefully hid his amusement behind the delicate porcelain.


The Yamada matriarch hurried to the foyer where Seiko was waiting. A brief nod answered Aiko’s arced eyebrow.

“Nodoka-san is waiting in the Maple Room, Okusama,” Seiko said. “She asked if she could meet with Harukichi as well.” She handed the invitation back to the Yamada matriarch. “Haru-chan and the girls are upstairs getting ready at the moment.”

Aiko frowned momentarily. “When Haru-chan is ready, ask her to show our guests around the premises. I’m sure they would enjoy a brief tour while we are all waiting.” She smiled in appreciation when Seiko handed her both the Yamada and Saotome registries. “Please have whoever is available bring in a tea service – Chinese White, preferably.”

“Hai, Okusama.”


Aiko tried not to roll her eyes when she entered the Maple room. Her daughter was standing next to the table in the middle of the room, waiting for her arrival.

“Okāsama,” Nodoka bowed deeper than Aiko thought necessary.

“Oh, do sit down, No-chan,” Aiko admonished. “We have quite a bit of ground to cover in order to deal with the mess we have both created, you realize that?”

Nodoka waited until her mother was seated before taking a seat herself. It took a few more seconds before Aiko’s comment registered. “Okāsama?”

Aiko nodded sharply. “Yes, and the mess is centered entirely around the same subject: Ranma-kun.” She gave her daughter a sharp look. “Daughter, when was the last time you ate or slept?”

The Yamada matriarch’s demeanor and tone of voice was having its desired effect.

“Okāsan?” Nodoka gave her mother a puzzled look. “That’s … of little importance at the moment.”

“It’s more relevant than you realize, No-chan.” Aiko replied. She smiled when Naomi entered the room with a tray. “Ah … thank you, Naomi-chan.” Their quick exchange of signs went unnoticed by her daughter, to Aiko’s disappointment.

Nodoka waited for the black-haired maid to leave the room. “Okāsan, is Harukichi-chan currently on the premises?”

Aiko nodded. “Yes, she is. Unfortunately, Haru-chan and the other girls are currently unavailable at the moment.”

“I see. I would like to thank her in person if possible. However,” Nodoka said as she handed her mother a sealed scroll, “in any event I would appreciate if this could be delivered to her.”

Aiko gave the scroll a cursory glance before accepting it. She had a reasonably good idea what the document contained, and if she were right, it would do Haru-chan quite a lot of good in the long term – even if it would confuse the heck out of her right away.

“Certainly, daughter. However, there are a number of items that must be addressed immediately. First,” Aiko said curtly, opening the Yamada registry, “there is this minor but glaring discrepancy in our family records to correct.”

Nodoka felt a small bump of anxiety when her mother pulled the final Saotome registry scroll out of its storage case and unrolled it next to the open Yamada book. Aiko carefully reentered Nodoka’s information into the Yamada registry, restoring her legal status as Aiko’s second daughter. She subconsciously relaxed when Aiko repeated the procedure with Ranma’s entry, effectively adopting him posthumously as she had hoped. Nodoka tried hard not to beam when Aiko made a third new entry into the Yamada registry for Ranko, repeating Ranma’s birth information and effectively making him his own twin. She had not expected that, but it was a singular honor and quite appropriate considering the role his Ranko personae had played.

“You do my son great honor, Okāsama,” Nodoka said serenely. She had received everything she had hoped for and more.

“You can tell him that in person.” Aiko closed the registries and set them to the side.

Nodoka’s expression became slightly wistful. “I intend to, Okāsama.”

Aiko nodded sharply, a grim smile on her face. “That does bring up the next major item that needs resolution: this matter of family honor. Tanto,” the Yamada matriarch demanded, holding out a hand.

Nodoka blinked. That wasn’t part of the script.

“Tanto,” Aiko repeated firmly. “Come on, girl, we don’t have all day.”

Nodoka stared at her mother’s hand. She couldn’t have misjudged the situation that badly, could she? She hesitantly presented the tanto.

Aiko snatched the tanto from Nodoka and set it down on the floor beside her. “Good. You will not need that for some time, for a variety of reasons. The first is that we have been invited to the Palace to meet with His Imperial Majesty for a cup of tea, and Tennō Heika would be more than a little upset if I brought only the head of my daughter along instead of the whole person.” Aiko unfolded the Imperial invitation and placed it on the table in front of Nodoka.

The younger Yamada glanced down at the official document. She voiced a loud gasp a couple of seconds later and her gaze met her mother’s at the same instant, maroon eyes warring between shocked disbelief and desperate pleading.

“The second reason is that I am certain Ranma would be devastated if you were to leave us in such a manner at this point in time. Yes, your son is alive, No-chan; the reason we didn’t …”

Aiko sighed. Fortunately, Naomi would be returning shortly with the ammonium carbonate.


Nodoka sat up with a gasp. This was immediately followed by a brief fit of coughing and choking as her body tried to purge itself of the fumes from her mother’s smelling salts. It had been a long time since she was forced awake in such a manner and she had forgotten – quite thankfully – how frightfully effective the Yamada house recipe was.

“Welcome back to the living, daughter.”

Aiko’s wry comment snapped everything into focus. Nodoka ignored the black-haired maid next to her and the enticing aroma of the food on the table. She had thoughts for only one thing.

“Where is Ranma? Where is my son?”

Her mother frowned. “He is out practicing at the moment. However …” Aiko’s eyes hardened noticeably, “before you are allowed to see him, you must make your intentions clear to me.”

“Okāsan?!?”

“When you see him next, how are you going to treat him? Will you welcome him with warmth and open arms, or do you still intend to hold him to some ridiculous idealized standard of manliness?”

Nodoka inhaled sharply, ready to rebut her mother’s accusation, before shrinking in on herself. Okāsan had every right to question her fitness as a mother. She bowed her head and fixed her eyes on her hands in her lap.

“I … have no right to judge my son, Okāsan,” the kendoka responded softly. “I only wish to know him once more. It has been far too long since I last held my Ranma in my arms as a mother should.”

“Look at me, daughter.” Aiko’s commanding tone held no warmth, and her maroon eyes bored intently into Nodoka’s for several seconds when their gazes met. The Yamada Matriarch slowly nodded.

“You’ll do.” The hawk’s stare was quickly replaced with a much friendlier countenance. “Now, eat. We all have a long day ahead of us and I can ill afford to have my daughter pass out in front of Tennō Heika due to malnutrition.”

“Okāsan, where is he?”

“I don’t know, No-chan,” Aiko replied with a worried voice. “He left earlier this morning quite distraught when I told him about your declaration of feud on the Tendōs.”

Nodoka gasped.

Aiko nodded with a grimace. “We’ve made quite a mess of things, you and I. He holds considerable fondness for the two Tendō girls and your actions against their family have complicated his life even further – something I did not think was possible.”

Her mother brushed a stray strand of white hair out of her eyes before continuing. “There is a lot happening in your son’s life, No-chan, but one thing is certain: right now Ranma needs everyone’s unconditional support. If you can accept him totally, without reservations, he can finally start to heal from the years of constant abuse he’s suffered at the hands of that fat fool you used to call a husband. Can you do that much, daughter?”

Nodoka nodded dumbly. She was quite confused by her mother’s constant changing of subject, but she would agree to anything if it led to a chance to be reunited with her son once more.

“Good. Now, eat. We still have a lot of work ahead of us, and you will need your strength.”


Mugonno smiled vacuously while he allowed himself and his two associates to be guided around the premises by the youngest of Yamada-san’s charges. The young redhead’s training was obvious in its absence – a rather remarkable achievement for one so young and further proof that this clan must be preserved at all costs. Harukichi-chan would be quite a formidable force once she reached her majority; it was his duty to see she was given the chance along with her other family members.

The big question was how young Ranma-kun would react to the Emperor’s proposal. The risk was high, but the potential rewards were so great that this opportunity simply could not be ignored. The combination of the Yamada and Musabetsu Kakutō Ryū, wielded by a loyal house, was a prize worth taking almost any chance for. The possibilities in such a union were endless.

The ringing of his companion’s cell phone interrupted Mugonno’s ruminations.

“Shinobi Two” Commander Kuroi curtly answered. “… What do you mean skywatch log is negative? Have you checked for equipment malfunction?”

The platinum-haired Nisei practically growled. “He’s just a kid, not a goddamned superhero; it’s not as if he can simply vanish into thin air. Run a full diagnostics on skywatch three and check back. It’s got to be something obvious.” Kuroi snapped his cell phone shut and swore.

“More problems, Kuroi-san?” Mugonno’s inquiry was polite but his attention was on the young redhead in front of the group. Her emerald eyes were dancing with unconcealed mirth, which led to rather interesting conclusions.

“Idiots can’t keep a sat running for more than a day. I’m definitely going to have words with HQ when I get back.”

“Kuroi-san?” Muggono concealed his own merriment, silently pointing out the presence of their current “guide”.

“Right,” Kuroi nodded. He turned towards the young Yamada girl and bowed. “My apologies for the inappropriate language, Harukichi-san.”

“Thank you, Kuroi-san,” Harukichi replied with her own bow. “Such a reaction is quite common whenever Ranma-nēchan is concerned. Now if you will follow me, the primary dōjō is in this direction.”


Southesk Tablelands

“You want me to WHAT?”

Take hold of the gemstone at the peak of your tiara. Concentrate on it.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be something else designed to embarrass the hell out of me?”

Ranma, all Guardians share this basic attack form. While it may appear on the surface to be of limited power, its utility far exceeds its effectiveness as a simple attack. It is quite versatile and familiarity with it is crucial; you will doubtless have many uses for it.

“Right,” Khronos replied with a sigh. When her hand touched her tiara she felt a brief surge of power; her hand moved into a flat plane on its own accord, holding something that was most definitely not a tiara.

Choose a target.

“Umm, okay. How about that rock over there?”

More than adequate.

Even though Khronos was starting to get used to the way the various trigger phrases seemed to force their way into her brain, it still creeped her out quite a bit when it happened. She concentrated on the target.

“Khronos Tiara Action!” Her wind up and throw would have done a professional Frisbee player proud.

WHOMP!

Khronos blinked, even as the disc of crimson light returned to her hand and she, with new reflexes, returned the tiara to her brow. “Whoa. That’s some headgear.”

You will be able to guide the flight of the energized Tiara with minimal training. It can act as a homing missile, cut bonds, knock a number of low-powered opponents unconscious, and perform a variety of other tasks. You should find it extremely useful.

“Well, it was about time some part of this stupid uniform turned out to be useful. I don’t suppose the earrings turn into miniature hand grenades, do they?”

I’m afraid not, Ranma.

Khronos smirked. “Oh, well. At least it will make Ryōga freak out the next time I see him – he’s always been so proud of his Iron Cloth technique and those stupid spinning bandanas of his.”

She suddenly got a thoughtful look. “You know, I wonder …”

Khronos reached behind her with her right hand and grabbed one end of the ribbon that made up the bow on the back of the Guardian uniform. She gave it a tug. An evil smile appeared on her face when the bow detached from the outfit and unknotted itself to form a single long length of ribbon.

“THOUGHT so!” she practically crowed. “Now, let’s see if I can remember how he did that …”

Khronos concentrated briefly and a flash of white ki enveloped her hand and the first part of the unrolled bow. It stiffened along the first two dozen centimeters to form a rough facsimile of a gymnastics ribbon. She began twirling the ribbon in a spiral pattern in front of her.

That … is a very creative use of the uniform, Ranma. I have no memory of any previous Guardian attempting such a feat.

“Yeah, well,” Khronos replied with a smirk, “I’ve had to face off against Kodachi so many times I’ve learned how useful the ribbon can be. Kodachi could never use the tools to their full effectiveness because she didn’t know any real martial arts. This is a little short, but I can still work with it.”

One moment, Ranma. While I am unable to change the basic form of the Guardian uniform, there is a certain mutability built into some of the various definition parameters. It appears that the original designer might have foreseen at least a variation of your ribbon usage, since there is a duplicate set of parameters for the ribbon that are in force when it is detached. Allow me to adjust them for you.

Khronos grinned when the ribbon suddenly narrowed and extended to several times its original length. The fuku-clad Guardian snapped her new weapon against several nearby rocks, splitting each of them neatly in two. She thought for a moment before beginning a new kata, the ribbon twirling around her form in a complicated yet graceful pattern.

This was fun.


Suginami

Aiko suppressed a sigh. Everyone who had been invited to the Palace, along with Mugonno-san and his two associates, had gathered in the combined bamboo/blossom room for a light lunch. Everyone, that is, except for Ranma-kun, whose seat next to her was conspicuously empty.

The family could only delay for so long before they would have to go without him, and the Yamada matriarch was not looking forward to try explaining that little disaster-in-the-making with His Imperial Majesty, no, not one little bit.

It was already bad enough that she had been forced to gently separate the four girls from her daughter. They were making no effort to hide their animosity for Ranma-kun’s mother and the tension across the table was quite obvious.

It had all the earmarks of an excruciatingly long day.


Southesk Tablelands

Khronos flopped down on a rock to rest for a moment. She had been practicing for over five hours without a break and the heat and humidity were finally starting to make their presence known to the young Guardian.

“Man, I’m going to have to start carrying around some water and a few snacks if I’m going to train in the outback like this.”

That would be a reasonable precaution, Ranma.

“It’s either that or have enough loose change on hand to grab something quick from a local convenience store.” Khronos started laughing. “Could you imagine the looks I’d get walking into a neighborhood Family Mart decked out like this?”

It would depend entirely on the district you were in, Ranma. Some of the school fuku worn by girls in Tokyo can be rather revealing – more so than even the Guardian uniform.

“Yeah, right.” Khronos gave one of her trademark smirks. “Well, you sure aren’t going to catch me wearing something like that anytime soon. This stupid outfit is bad enough, even when no one can recognize who I really am. No WAY am I going to wear something shorter than this for real.”

The fiery-haired girl stretched briefly before closing her eyes and relaxing a bit. She sat quietly undisturbed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her back. There were faint echoes of some unidentified insects off in the distance, but the immediate vicinity was quiet and still. It was … peaceful. Several minutes passed in relative solitude.

“Eiko?”

Yes, Ranma?

“Thanks. This is real nice out here.”

I am glad you find the location to your liking.

Khronos nodded as she opened her eyes. “Yes, but I bet I’m going to have to find a different place to practice once the monsoon season is over with. The last thing I want to do is start a huge brush fire out here.”

A commendable attitude to have. Ranma, have you figured out how you are going to handle …

“I don’t want to think about that right now, Eiko,” Khronos growled.

You are going to have to face it sometime today, Ranma.

“I know, but … later, okay? I should have a few of hours of daylight left – I’ll just have to deal with it when I’m done. In the meantime …” Khronos got to her feet and pulled her staff out of storage. “… there are still a few new moves I want to try out before going home.”


Ōme City

Happosai ignored the whispered comments that always accompanied his presence in public. The Grandmaster of Musabetsu Kakutō Ryū was accustomed to attracting an inordinate amount of attention due to his various … activities, but this was one of the few times he didn’t appreciate the attention his stature and force of personality brought with it. The sparse Sunday crowd in Ōme Station simply served to highlight his presence, and the apparently-oversized backpack he wore belied the image of an old and decrepit grandfather he often assumed when he was not otherwise engaged in his hobbies.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. Enough hikers passed through Ōme on their way up the river to Chichibutama that one more – even one of his stature – would quickly be forgotten. His destination was to the north of town in the rugged forested hillsides, and he had been very careful over the years never to … entertain … himself in this particular area of the prefecture.

The elderly hiker headed north in the general direction of the Tama River, following a path well worn by others. As expected, even his unusual presence was quickly forgotten by the local residents.


Southesk Tablelands

“Khronos Lance!”

A globe of garnet force formed around the orb end of the Guardian’s staff. She gave the staff a twirl and then slammed the glowing end down on a large boulder embedded in the ground in front of her.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The rock exploded in a dense spray of shrapnel. The explosion also kicked up a large cloud of soil, dust, and shredded bits of various plants, completely obscuring the young Guardian for several seconds. When the dust cloud cleared, it left behind a rather disheveled warrior. Her fuku was dirty and torn in several places and several twigs stuck out from her fiery mane at random angles. The minor cuts on her legs and arms from the explosion barely had a chance to bleed before they began to heal and disappear.

“I think that needs a bit more work,” Khronos quipped. She looked down at her damaged fuku and swore.

Ranma, the damage to the Guardian uniform is not permanent. It is automatically repaired with every transformation sequence.

Her tirade halted as quickly as it had begun. “Really? I was pretty sure I couldn’t use just any old fabric to repair it – it’s nice to know I won’t have to try.”

She looked up to the late-afternoon sun before checking her internal clock. Five after four. Right then her stomach decided to give loud notice about its currently unfilled state.

“I guess it’s about time,” Khronos said with a sigh. She was not looking forward to dealing with the mess back home, but she really couldn’t put it off any longer. A blink and she stood in front of Eiko once more. She detransformed, and when she transformed back to Khronos she was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did the uniform repair itself automatically, but her own appearance was also restored to a pristine state.

“Man, what I wouldn’t have given to have that ability on some of our training trips.”

Khronos took a deep breath before porting home.


Ranma detransformed the instant she appeared back in her room. It was getting easier and easier to deal with the instant changes in location, and it was evidently quite fortunate she had arrived at this particular moment.

“Hi, Jun!” Ranma said cheerily.

“EEEEEEEEEEE!” The green-haired maid nearly fell out the open window where she was stationed. Spinning around, her eyes widened briefly on seeing Ranma standing in the middle of the room with a wry smile on her face.

“Ranma-sama! Thank goodness you’re home!” Jun hustled over to the redheaded girl. She briefly wondered why Ranma-chan had gone back to wearing her hair long after making such a fuss over it last night, but that could wait until later. “Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs and we don’t have much time to get you ready – we’re late enough as it is.” She gently spun Ranma around and herded her out the door to the stairway.

“Huh? Ready? Late?” Ranma let Jun guide her down the stairs. This didn’t seem to be related to this morning’s events. “What are we late for?” She rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairway and looked back over her shoulder to the green-haired maid behind her. “Grandma never mentioned anything about going out some… ERK!

“RANMA!”

Ranma barely had time to register the presence of the approaching body before she was enveloped in a crushing hug. Her vision was almost totally obscured by the swaths of cloth surrounding her and it took several seconds for her to finally register the identity of the voice’s owner. She stiffened.

“M … mom?”

Nodoka kissed the top of her neo-daughter’s head before pulling her in even closer. “Shhhh. It’s alright, son, I know all about it now.” She tried and failed to blink back eyefuls of tears. After all those lonely years …

“MOM!”

Nodoka winced when her son-turned-daughter wrapped her shorter arms around her and squeezed. The nearly unbearable pressure released almost instantly, replaced by a tolerably fierce embrace. The mother and her female son stayed wrapped around each other for an indeterminate time.

“No-chan? Ranma-kun?” Aiko’s voice rang out from across the foyer.

The Yamada matriarch sighed – those two were dead to the world right now. She glided over to the pair and poked a particular spot in the middle of her daughter’s back. The results were instantly apparent: Nodoka’s entire body spasmed for a moment.

Ranma looked up quickly. “Are you okay, Mom?”

Nodoka smiled and gave her daughter a short nod before turning to glare indignantly at her mother. “Okāsan …”

“I’m sorry, No-chan, but you’ll have to catch up on your son’s life later.” Aiko turned her attention to the shorter girl. “Ranma-kun, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really have to leave right now.”

Ranma partially disentangled herself from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, Jun just mentioned some…”

Her reply cut off when she finally got a good look at everyone’s outfits. The entire household was dressed in full ceremonial kimono. “What the …

“Grandma, what the heck’s going on?”

“Quite a bit since you left this morning,” Aiko replied. “The family has been invited to tea with His Imperial Majesty this afternoon at the Palace. We’ve all been waiting for you to come home, and I’m afraid we need to leave right away – we’ve kept Tennō Heika waiting long enough as it is. I can tell you more while we’re on the way.”

Ranma flushed bright red. “Ah, geez, Grandma … I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Aiko nodded. “I know you didn’t, son, and I’m sorry we started the day out on such a bad note. You did leave in a bit of a rush this morning.”

“Yeah, well …” Ranma chuckled, the blush slowly fading from her face. “I went to see Eiko and spent the rest of the day practicing. I guess I kind of lost track of time for a while.”

“Understandable, given the circumstances,” Aiko said with a small smile. “Now, we really should head out for the Palace, Ranma-kun – you’ll just have to get changed in the car.”

Ranma practically melted when her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Blue eyes met crimson and saw nothing but a mother’s love reflected from a seemingly endless pool.

Maybe, just maybe, it was a sign that her life was FINALLY starting to improve. She could face literally anything with her mother at her side.


Ōme City

Happosai located the overgrown path fairly easily, the ki markers he had embedded into several path-stones years ago still resonated strongly when in his presence. A short hike up the hillside brought him to the small cottage he had maintained for several decades, hidden from view by the twists of terrain and subtle warding which imperceptibly guided others around its location. He had little worry that the actual structure had been tampered with over the many years – the amado and kuguri-do were pinned in place by physical means amply reinforced by the grandmaster’s own ki. It took less than fifteen minutes to stow the amado, open a few of the exterior shoji, and fire up the stove for both heat and tea. He then took time to relax and gather his thoughts – the whole purpose of his return would fail if his thoughts were clouded or dulled with fatigue.

Once sufficiently refreshed Happosai set brush, ink, and a small stack of paper with a peculiar sheen out on the table and began his preparations. Precise brush strokes formed peculiar sequences of characters and symbols in a language long lost to all but a few monks of a particular order – knowledge hoarded carefully throughout the centuries, hidden from certain persecution by distance, terrain, and secrecy. Ward after ward flowed from the grandmaster’s brush until they covered the table and littered the floor – only when the supply of paper became exhausted did the production of the arcane symbols cease.

Happosai cleaned and stowed his brush and ink before carefully arranging the wards in their proper order. Erecting a protective barrier was vital to his safety as well as that of the surrounding countryside; even a single misstep could produce immediate and dire consequences. He opened his grimoire and began chanting, placing wards about the room in a specific pattern with each spoken line, binding the local ley lines within the pattern and anchoring the room to both material and astral planes. The final ward and the end of the incantation brought the barrier ward crackling into place, its power briefly visible before it settled back into the pattern and faded from view.

The elder closed his book and sank wearily into his chair. With the barrier erected he could take a few moments to rest. After setting the kettle back on the stove to boil, he carefully unpacked a small black leather case and set it on the table. He brushed a hand over the gilt pattern inlaid in the top of the case and chuckled – the old bat would throw a complete hissy fit if she knew he had this in his possession. Of course, the Nyuchezuu were quite presumptuous in claiming possession of half the items he had liberated from them over the years, since a vast majority of “their” artifacts had been stolen from previous owners in years past. Getting them to acknowledge that little fact was a cause long lost. Twitting them about it, however, had provided endless entertainment over the years.

Happosai brewed a fresh pot of tea before returning his attention to the task at hand. Moving the case to the side he brought out a metal censer with stand, a vial half full of a golden metallic liquid, an ornate woman’s haircomb, and a round cloth of purple silk embroidered with arcane symbols. He carefully unrolled the silk on the table and placed the censer directly on top of the cloth’s center rune before lighting the charcoal inside, then sat back and nursed his cup of tea until the censer had warmed up.

It was finally time. Happosai carefully opened the small case. Inside were three crystalline eggs, each facetted shell imprisoning a delicate white mist within.

Only three soulstones left. Three more chances to set things right. Three more times to hold her in his arms again and beg her forgiveness.

And one would be lost forever on this day.

The diminutive grandmaster opened the censer and gingerly placed one of the soulstones within. Unstoppering the vial, he poured the entire volume of the golden liquid over the crystal before quickly closing the censer and picking up the haircomb. He held the comb in both hands, closed his eyes, and put his entire heart and soul into the Calling.

“Yasuko-chan.”

His Naming was barely a whisper, yet the shattering of the soulstone and the ethereal wind which followed roared deafeningly in his ears. His form shifted as he was carried aloft, limbs and torso elongated, skin clarified and smoothed, dark black hair once more covered his head, years of wear all discarded in an instant. One final distorted wave traveled quickly through his frame before the transformation was complete.

Happi opened his eyes to the grey void of Limbo. All he could do now was to wait patiently.

A time later – short, long, it was impossible to tell – a trickle of white mist gathered in front of him. It swirled and danced and caressed his cheek only to dart suddenly sideways and resume its delicate cavorting. Additional streamers of mist arrived, each adding complexity to the ethereal display in front of him, each misty thread greeting him once before joining its brethren in dance.

More and more threads of the delicate mist arrived until the dance towered far above him. When the final thread joined the tower, the dance suddenly stopped – the mist collapsing into itself, glowing brighter and brighter as it compacted. One flash of unbearable light and the mist faded away entirely to reveal a beautiful young woman in a light blue summer yukata, luxurious waist length black hair held back in a cascade of waves by an ornate comb.

“Su-chan,” Happosai whispered past a sudden lump in his throat.

“Papa.”

Her bright cerulean eyes glistening with unshed tears, the spiritual essence of Yasuko Saotome ran forward to luxuriate in the gentle crush of her father’s embrace.