There was still something from the visions last night he knew he was forgetting; some small detail he had somehow again managed to overlook. It was there, right on the edge of his memory, teasing him, testing his patience…

He knew it was important.

But he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.

And it was annoying the hell out of him! Hadn’t he already learned everything he could from these dreams? Last night, he had been so sure—he’d convinced himself that he finally understood what was going on. So why—why did it feel like he was still missing something?

The strain of it… he could almost feel it affecting him physically. Even now, it felt like something was tugging at him—willing him to remember. Again, his mind replayed every detail, relived every moment; everything he’d seen; everything he’d heard; and any small detail that might have escaped him.

…Nothing came.

The tugging sensation was growing more persistent with each failed attempt; his arm felt heavy, as if something were physically pulling on it. Pulling rather harder, in fact.

What was it he was forgetting…?

That was the last thing Ranma recalled; next thing he knew, his entire body was being yanked painfully to the side, and his head hit his desk. Groaning, he put a hand to his aching head as he slowly sat up. Then, remembering where he was, he glanced down at the offending hand that was holding his arm, unamused.

“Dummy,” Akane hissed from her desk, finally releasing his sleeve. “If you’re going to daydream, do it when Miss. Hinako isn’t in a bad mood! She’s already drained two people! Do you want to be the third?”

Ranma instantly deflated, the fact that he was still stuck in school quickly dulling his mood. “Heh, like she could even if she wanted too,” he replied, pulling himself upright.

Akane rolled her eyes and proceeded to ignore him, promptly returning her attention to the front of the room where an adult Hinako-sensei was standing. Ranma sighed as he settled his head back on his desk. He still couldn’t figure out why Akane had insisted on coming to class anyway. Didn’t they have more important things to worry about...?! They could be at Doctor Tofu’s right now, figuring out a battle plan or something.

Lifting his head slightly, Ranma allowed his gaze to wander around the room, trying once again to relieve his boredom. Dumb Akane… he had been so close too… a little longer, and he was sure he would’ve remembered.

Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else was actually paying attention to Miss Hinako’s lecture. Daisuke and Hiroshi looked just as bored as him—though Daisuke noticeably more so. He was slumped over his desk, his body flat and lifeless; Ranma frowned. It didn’t take him long to recognize a drain victim when he saw one…

Even more troubling, however, was the fact that he couldn’t seem to conjure up the usual feelings of anger and disgust he normally felt for his drain-happy teacher. Even though a confrontation with Miss Hinako would have been a welcome distraction, he just couldn’t seem to find the motivation to initiate it.

Instead, he continued scanning the room, searching for victim number two. For a moment, he thought he found him in the form of Gosunkugi Hikaru, who was sitting in the back of the room. The other boy’s arms were dangling uselessly by his sides, and he looked miserably pale, and almost half-dead. His head was lying motionless on the desk, while his eyes—to Ranma’s utter annoyance—stared unblinkingly at Akane.

…Then he remembered that Gosunkugi always looked that way...

He found Hinako’s real last victim moments later. The unlucky boy was half-sitting, half-lying in a chair by the window—flat as could be, and newly drained. Part of his arm was hooked around the chair, holding him in place; and if not for that, Ranma was sure his body would have floated away.

Unfortunately, all of the other students were too afraid of being drained to offer any real form of entertainment. And the chances of Shampoo or Kodachi busting through the walls to see him anytime soon, were slim to none: ever since the failed wedding, his fiancée’s had been surprisingly effective in using doors and keeping property damage to a minimum. Not that he could blame them… his mother and Kasumi could be quite persuasive when they wanted to be.

With nothing left to distract him, Ranma found his mind quickly returning to his earlier train of thought. Almost unconsciously, he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on that night so long ago... willing the memories and their details to come…

...Until he felt Akane elbowing him not-so-lightly in the ribs.

Opening his eyes, he turned to glare angrily at his fiancée—only to see her glaring back, her expression perfectly mirroring his own. They sat that way for several long minutes; their gazes locked in silent, heated battle; neither one willing to admit defeat. But slowly, after several more minutes had passed, he could see Akane’s resistance slowly wavering: her eyes seemed to lose their angry, familiar fire, and her lips turned down, no longer a tight, thin line. Finally, sighing, she abruptly turned away, and her body seemed to sag in its chair.

Ranma watched her uncomfortably, unsure what just occurred, yet confident that somehow he had just won. And though this small victory should have made him feel better... for some reason, it only made him feel worse.

Things should’ve changed between them by now. After everything they’d talked about, everything they remembered—they had come to some sorta agreement, hadn’t they? So why was she still acting like the same uncute, dorky chick he’d known for the past year?

Was she trying to forget everything that had happened last night...? He sure as hell couldn’t think of any other reason for her behavior.

Just this morning, she had even reverted to her old habit of calling him a jerk and a pervert at every opportunity—and for once, without any provocation on his part! And then, on their way to school, she even insisted that he walk on the fence rather than beside her… not that he cared, really. He hadn’t been exactly pleased with her for dragging him off to school in the first place…

But... he still loved her.

He couldn’t deny it as easily as she could.

Crossing his arms, Ranma placed his head in the comfortable crook within. Uncute tomboy... she was more trouble than she was worth, if you asked him. With nothing better to do, he turned his attention back on Miss Hinako, silently daring her to drain him.

…And then, a flash of memory…

…A dark shadow, a flying cloak…

Ranma’s head shot up, and his eyes narrowed.

...Why did that make him think of his dream...?

The answer came rather suddenly. He saw the image again, as if it were in slow motion: the figure of a body falling to the ground, forgotten and abandoned, as the dark shadowy creature left it behind to fly towards Akane. But it wasn’t the creature that drew his attention this time.

“I got it!” Ranma shouted as he jumped triumphantly to his feet.

Turning towards Akane, he grabbed her arm—ignoring her concerned, angry protests as he proceeded to drag her out of the room. Their classmates watched with wide-eyed, incredulous stares while Miss Hinako froze at the chalkboard, her hand raised in midair, chalk held tightly between her fingers.

Taking a deep breath, she released it, lowering her arm. She’d been in enough battles with Ranma to know when he was serious, and when he was just looking for a fight… judging by his outburst and his strange behavior leading up to it, she knew it was pointless to chase after him now. Quietly vowing to punish him later, she pulled out a five-yen piece, and proceeded to drain two particularly noisy students instead.

As expected, the classroom considerably quieted after that, and returning to the chalkboard, she continued her lecture without further interruption.

* * *

Although Akane had stopped struggling almost immediately after exiting the school, she still didn’t appreciate being forcefully dragged against her will. Not without good reason, anyhow. And Ranma seemed determined not to give her one.

“Ranma,” she asked again, for the hundredth time. “Will you please tell me what’s going on?!”

Shaking his head, he tightened his grip on her arm. “Just wait a bit,” he answered. “I’ll explain everything when we get to Doctor Tofu’s.”

Akane frowned at his evasive reply, but tried to resign herself to the walk ahead. She wasn’t really angry about being dragged out of class in the middle of their lecture: a part of her had always known it would come to this. After all, Ranma wasn’t the type of person to sit still while there was trouble.

And even she had trouble concentrating in class today. Her mind kept conjuring up images from their past... but with the images, came more and more questions. That was really what was worrying Akane; what had her jumping at shadows, and staring into space.

There had to be a reason for all this; a reason why they’d suddenly started remembering. It was a distinct advantage anyway she looked at it. So was the creature that confident…? Was it so sure they couldn’t beat it? Glancing again at Ranma, she continued to watch him closely.

What was it he thought he knew...? And more importantly, did he only remember because the creature wanted him to?

* * *

“There was a body,” Ranma stated bluntly, facing Doctor Tofu. “The first time—before that damn thing took Akane, it had some sorta body. I’m not sure if it possessed someone, or something—or if it was a person, and then became that shadowy-thing—but it was a person first, somehow. Does that—could that mean anything?”

Something almost resembling a smile touched Doctor Tofu’s lips. “Well, that would certainly make things easier to understand, wouldn’t it? If this wasn’t some random monster at all, but instead, something somebody conjured up, then you could very well be dealing with a spell or a curse of some kind.”

“A curse?” Akane asked, surprised. She knew a thing or two about curses—you had to when you lived in Nerima and had a sex-changing fiancée—but for some reason, in this particular case, that possibility had never once crossed her mind.

“It would certainly help explain how these incidents keep reoccurring,” Doctor Tofu replied. “However, a curse that strong would require very powerful magic as well as some sort of trigger. Much like the cursed springs of Jusenkyo requires cold water to activate.”

“So… if we can find whoever summoned that monster—or cursed us or whatever—then we should be able to figure out how to stop it? Right?”

“Well, logically,” said Doctor Tofu slowly, unprepared to commit himself fully to his answer. “But that’s only if this is a curse you’re dealing with… though from everything you’ve told me of your dreams, it is highly likely. Of course, it’s impossible to know anything for sure,” he told them, his voice lowering as he adopted the tone he normally used when dealing with patients. “First, you’d have to find the source of the curse. Otherwise, this is all just theory.”

“A theory’s better than nothing, doc,” Ranma said, climbing to his feet. “At least now we’ve got something to focus on. We’ve just gotta find the guy that summoned that thing, that’s all.”

Akane looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “That’s all?” she asked, sounding exasperated. “Do you even know how we’d go about doing that, Ranma? What if the person who cast it, isn’t even here? And even if they are,” she continued flatly, “how would we go about finding them? For all we know, they could be leading perfectly normal lives, and not remember a thing. We might not even know them.”

Ranma visibly deflated at that, feeling slightly more discouraged. She was right, he realized. After all, they couldn’t very well go door to door, demanding answers. Well, they could—but he knew Akane would never go for it.

“Actually,” Doctor Tofu said, coming to Ranma’s aid, “it’s very likely that you do know the person, Akane. A spell of such power... well, it would be impossible for the caster not to be connected to you in some way. Of course,” he quickly added, “I’m not saying that they have to play a necessarily large role in your lives… but they are, most likely, present in it. A curse, you see, is binding to everyone involved. So checking out any possible suspects, including this body you saw in your dreams—well, it wouldn’t be a bad place to start.”

Turning to his fiancée, Ranma grinned. “See?” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

Ignoring the jibe, Akane frowned. She still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all some wild goose chase; but pushing her doubts aside, she turned to Doctor Tofu. “Do you think you could keep looking into that creature for us, Doctor?” she asked. “The more we learn about our opponent, the better.”

Smiling warmly, he nodded. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

* * *

It had only been five minutes. But it felt like much longer…

She watched Ranma closely; afraid that if she looked away even for a moment, she might turn to see him gone.

Ever since they’d left Doctor Tofu’s, he’d been acting strangely—more subdued, more distant. He hadn’t spoken once about his plans to find the person from his memories—the one who could be responsible for everything they’d been through. And instead of trying to take her hand and walk beside her like he’d done that morning, he had jumped immediately onto the railing of the fence, his back to her, careful to keep a little distance between them.

With a sinking feeling, she realized he was using her own tactics against her...

Normally, such an affront would have made her angry—this time, however, she knew she deserved it. Though honestly, his behavior couldn’t have come at a worse time: here she was, ready to put it all behind her and move on... and he was still being stubborn.

Yet every time she opened her mouth to apologize—to explain why she had acted the way she had—she ended up embarrassed or frustrated and closed her mouth without saying a word.

How could she explain it to him when she couldn’t even explain it to herself...?

But the longer she stalled, the more the silence between them grew. She could tell he was coming closer to his breaking point: his entire body was tense, his back rigid, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. She was sure he wanted to say something, but by will alone, was keeping it to himself.

Feeling the pressure to say something—anything—Akane smiled as the answer suddenly presented itself. After all... if he could use her techniques, then surely, she could use some of his.

And the art of avoidance was one of Ranma’s specialties.

“You’re such a dummy,” she said at last, comfortable in territory she was more familiar with. “Why are you walking up there, anyway?”

Ranma, as predictable as ever, stopped walking and turned to eye her warily. But Akane didn’t stop. Instead, she began to swing her book-bag cheerfully back and forth (the perfect guise of happiness) as she passed him.

Ranma, not to be outdone, jumped off the fence and ran to catch up with her. Once he had, however, he quickly realized he had no idea what to do next; being angry in an attempt to force her to apologize (or better yet beg for his forgiveness) didn’t seem to be working.

Finally, sighing, he crossed his arms behind his head. “Man,” he mock-sighed, “you’d think remembering our past lives woulda gave me some kinda insight into the way you think. But jeez, Akane—you still confuse me today just as much as you did the first time we met.”

In reply, smiling, Akane tried to hit him a couple times with her schoolbag, only to have him playfully dodge each and every attempt. “Dummy,” she said, laughing softly.

Finally, growing serious, Ranma caught her bag in his hands, quickly bringing their game to an end. “Do you have any idea who it could be?” he asked suddenly, releasing her satchel.

Caught off guard by the abruptness of the question, Akane looked down at the pavement, shaking her head. In truth, she did have several names in mind—Shampoo, Kodachi, and Ukyo among them—but she knew Ranma probably wouldn’t appreciate her accusing all of his fiancées at once.

Though really... who had better reason to want her dead then them?

“I’ve been thinking it might be Kuno,” Ranma told her, apparently having no such qualms himself. “Or maybe Ryoga,” he added thoughtfully. Uncomfortable memories of the wishing sword and the fishing rod of love instantly came to mind. “Both of them are definitely stupid enough to try something dangerous like that, anyway.”

“Ryoga wouldn’t do that, Ranma,” Akane told him. “And Kuno doesn’t have any reason to want me dead. I’d sooner believe it was Kodachi or Shampoo—at least they have motives.”

Ranma grinned as he took a step towards her. “Yeah, but you’re forgetting something important,” he told her, reveling in the knowledge that he knew something she didn’t. “Whoever cast this was initially after me, remember? You got hit on the rebound.”

Akane stopped dead in her tracks, and her mouth fell open wordlessly. That’s right, a part of her realized… the creature had said something to that effect, hadn’t he? It was Ranma, it had been after—not her.

She grew cold and numb at the thought.

...She was going through all of this because of some mistake...?

Ranma grew silent as well, as if just comprehending what he had said. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, angrily. “I really am an idiot.”

“No,” Akane said quickly, frustrated to feel tears in her eyes. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m the idiot. I’ve been acting like a—a fool. I tried to pretend none of this was happening… that everything was normal… and I knew that it wasn’t, but I couldn’t seem to stop doing it.”

Ranma took a small step towards her. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached towards her face and gently wiped away the tears that had escaped. “Dummy,” he told her. “I can’t blame you for wanting to act like nothin’ happened, Akane. Hell, I wanna pretend the same thing. But we both know pretendings not gonna solve anything.”

“I know,” Akane replied. She could feel her eyes burning again, as more tears threatened to escape. Closing her eyes tightly, she fought against them.

Since when had she become so weak…?

Without a word, Ranma took a step closer, quietly pulling her into his arms. To his relief she didn’t pull away or protest, but instead, actually seemed to welcome the contact; encouraged, Ranma held her tighter. “I meant what I said,” he whispered, his tone serious and soft. “I’m going to protect you no matter what, Akane.”

Silently, she nodded against him; finally allowing the tears to flow freely.

She knew he meant every word… and yet… a part of her was still afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

***

Ranma 1/2 is the property and creation of Rumiko Takahashi and whoever else owns it. I'm not making any money off this so don't sue me. Besides, I'm broke.

***

She Walks in Beauty

~Part 3~

***

I spent all my life
Looking for our innocence
I've got nothing to lose
One thing to prove
I won't make the same mistakes
Now I know
That everything will be okay
When I die tomorrow

If I die tomorrow
As the minutes fade away
I can't remember
Have I said all I can say?
You're my everything
You make me feel so alive
If I die tomorrow

-Motley Crue

***

“No,” Akane told him firmly even as she rolled her eyes. “You can’t just go and bust down Kuno’s door. We won’t get anywhere if you just march in blindly and start demanding answers!”

“Aww, come on,” Ranma complained. “How else are we gonna get him to fess up?”

“Dummy,” she sighed, a small smile working its way to the corners of her lips. “Haven’t you learned anything as a girl? A little friendly persuasion can go a long way. If we go there as Akane and the Pig-tailed Girl, I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell us everything we need to know.”

Crossing his arms, Ranma frowned. Damn. He couldn’t deny the logic of her plan... but it sure took the fun out of the questioning process. Laying down on the dojo floor, he listened to the sound of rain pounding against the roof, hoping for sudden inspiration. The last thing he wanted was to use his girl-side to play into Kuno’s sick fantasies—especially when the reward was questionable, at best.

After all… there was still a chance Kuno wasn’t the one.

And there were many, many possible candidates—and all of them, he knew, could be just as dangerously single-minded as Kuno.

The problem, Ranma realized, was figuring out what to do if Kuno wasn’t their man.

“Fine,” he said at last, resigned. There was no point in arguing with her anyway; in the end, he knew she’d get her way. Pushing against the floor with his feet, he sprang up into a standing position. “Let’s get going then. No point in wasting time.”

Akane nodded and stood, but suddenly stopped, surprised to see Kasumi standing in the entrance way. Ranma, noting her surprise, turned to see the eldest Tendo daughter, holding a small square box in her hands.

“Ah, I found this package for you Akane,” she told her, moving into the room. “It was just sitting there, by the front gate.”

“What is it?” Akane asked, her eyes examining the package as she took it from her sister. She could see her name written shabbily across the top flap.

“I’m not sure,” Kasumi replied. “Perhaps someone wanted to give you an early birthday present. That’s always nice.” Smiling sweetly, she dusted her hands on our apron, and then turned to head back towards the house. “Well, I better get back to my shopping. Enjoy your present, Akane.”

Ranma and Akane barely heard her: both of their eyes were focused on the package, silently trying to determine what lay inside. Shifting it lightly in her palms, the first thing Akane noticed was how light the box felt. For a brief moment, she wondered if it might be empty.

“Well,” Ranma interrupted, sounding impatient and curious. “Aren’t ya gonna open it?”

“Of course I am.” Lifting one of the tiny flaps, Akane opened the top, surprised to see a small bag sitting at the bottom of the box.

“What is it?” Ranma asked, peering inside.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, lifting it out of its case. There was a knot holding the bag closed, but after gently pulling on one of its ends, it opened easily.

Inside, was a pile of some white, powdery substance.

Akane didn’t dare touch it: she had enough experience with strange potions and powders, thanks to Shampoo and Cologne. She could only imagine what this one would do!

“Hey, something’s still in there,” Ranma told her, pointing to the side of the box where a tiny sheet of paper was folded over, flush against the side. Drawing it out, Akane unraveled it, and read the words out loud for Ranma to hear.

Akane Tendo, please use this protective powder.

“That’s weird,” she said, after reading aloud the poorly written kanji. “Why would someone send me this?” Handing the paper to her fiancée, she frowned. “Do you recognize the writing, Ranma?”

Looking it over quickly, he shook his head. “Nope—though their writing’s worse than mine. Kinda strange they didn’t sign it.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Akane closed the bag once again and dropped it back into its box. “Well, it’s a nice gesture anyway. I wonder who sent it.”

“Ah, who knows,” Ranma replied, no longer sounding interested. “We gotta get goin’ though. We still have to question Kuno.”

Akane nodded and prepared to follow him out of the dojo and towards the main house—until she was unexpectedly stopped. Soun Tendo stood before them, holding a long, cylinder object in his hands.

“Akane, Ranma, I’m glad I ran into you,” he told them as he handed them the strange looking object. “This was left in the yard. I assume it’s for the both of you, since it has both your names on it. Strange way to deliver a package though, if you ask me.”

“Thanks, dad,” Akane said, looking at the object with suspicion. She had recognized the writing almost immediately—the same horrible script that had been on the other, and again it was unsigned. Definitely suspicious, she decided. When she turned to look at Ranma, she noticed a similar expression on his face too.

Not wasting a second more, she swiftly tore off the paper that was covering the object, surprised to see two long, thin parchments rolled firmly together beneath the wrapping. Akane quickly grabbed the scroll bearing her own name, and handed Ranma’s his.

When she had finished completely unraveling it, she found a small talisman lying in the center of the parchment, the character for long-life engraved on its shiny surface.

Ranma meanwhile, stood glowering at his. It was old and brown with age, and a tiny corner had even broken off—yet strangely, the character for loneliness and misery could still be seen clearly in the center.

“What the hell,” he muttered, crinkling up the parchment his gift came in before throwing it to the ground. “Who does this jerk think he is?”

“Dummy,” Akane replied, her eyes glued to the small trinket. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Kicking at the newly formed trash at his feet, Ranma lifted his eyes to his fiancée. “What is?” he asked testily.

“This obviously has got to do with our past,” Akane told him, her grip on the scroll tightening. “This can’t be some sort of coincidence, can it? Long life, protection… they must know what’s going to happen. Why else would they send us these?!”

Any further debate was cut off as Nabiki came sauntering in. “Here,” she said, throwing a beaded bracelet at her younger sister. “I found this at school. It has your name on it, so I can only assume it’s for you.”

“Geez, what is it now?” Ranma groaned.

Akane looked closely at the bracelet. “Hey, these are supposed to bring good luck,” she said, fingering the small round beads. “I’ve seen these at some of the local temples with Yuka and Sayuri.” She turned back to her sister. “Nabiki, do you know who left this for me? It’s very important.”

Nabiki shrugged. “Some girl from your class found it by your desk. She couldn’t find you so she asked me to give it to you instead… but it definitely didn’t sound like she knew who it was from, so I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

Akane frowned. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Well, I suppose we could go to one of the shrines and see if they remember who bought it,” she said, trying to look optimistic. “It’s worth a try, at least.”

“Okay,” Ranma said as he grabbed her wrist and dragged her out into the rain. He barely noticed the change coming over him—his mind was completely focused on the task at hand.

They had him!

* * *

It was the seventh temple they’d checked, and still they were no closer to finding the mysterious buyer than when they’d first started their search. Feeling miserable, Akane leaned against a brick column; her earlier optimism had long since faded two temples ago.

“So, you don’t remember selling any of these?” Ranma asked again, holding up the miscellaneous items.

The maiden smiled apologetically as she shook her head once again. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, “but we sell so many, it’s hard to remember specific people. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Ranma said, though his voice was a bit more hostile than he had intended. Bowing, the shrine maiden quickly hurried away as Ranma turned back to Akane. “What now?” he asked her, echoing her position against the column.

“Well, there’s still two more shrines near here we could check out,” she said dejectedly. “But I doubt we’ll have any more luck there than we did at the last one hundred places.”

Sighing, Ranma grabbed her hand and practically dragged her from the temple entrance. “Come on,” he said, walking quickly. “We have to be at Doctor Tofu’s soon, so we should have enough time left to hit those last two places first. ‘Sides, we can’t show up empty handed.”

Too tired to argue, Akane allowed herself to be pulled along.

* * *

As expected, the next temple was a dead end. “Sure, we’ve sold those, but I can’t recall every person who purchases something here. Sorry.” Ranma and Akane nodded, expressing their thanks as they slowly walked away; neither could say they were especially surprised by the results.

Their expectations, by this point, were low, and their patience was quickly wearing thin. And when they came upon the last temple on their list—their last chance—they felt what little hope they’d managed to maintain, disappear.

Old and run-down, the temple had seen better days. Unlike the previous shrines which were beautifully built and carefully maintained—this one left much to be desired. Its main building was crumbling, and pieces of the supporting columns were missing.

Even the head of the shrine that greeted them upon their arrival, was faring no better: he was bent low as he walked, holding a cane in his left hand—his old, gray robes hanging loose over his body, trailing to the ground. And he had large shadows under his eyes and liver spots all over his body, while his hair—what he had left of it—was standing in all different directions.

Not expecting any real help, both were pleasantly surprised when the old man nodded as he held the trinkets in his hands, assuring them he recognized them.

“Sure do,” he told them, nodding enthusiastically. “That would be my grandson. Seems he’s got himself a girlfriend,” he said, winking conspiratorially.

“Do you know where he is?” Akane asked, getting excited.

The old man smiled a toothless grin, as he pointed his cane in the direction of the prayer room. “He’s in there,” he told them. “Been there most of the day, far as I know. Parents sent him here hoping to snap him out of some strange, unhealthy addiction. Seems to be working too!” he added happily.

Quickly thanking him, Ranma and Akane headed where the old man had pointed, their hearts beating in unison as they approached the small room… neither knowing quite what to expect. And there, within the white-washed walls, was Hikaru Gosunkugi, kneeling beside the shrine, a pair of prayer beads in his hands.

Akane’s mouth fell open in surprise, and she stared in wide-eyed disbelief at their often shy, quiet classmate. Her eyes drifted down to the items she held in her hand, not believing—not understanding. This didn’t make any sense. Everyone knew Gosunkugi was into voodoo… so what was he doing here?

Ranma was quicker to recover from his shock; a look of undeniable fury had quickly taken its place as he suddenly remembered details from his memories—passing moments with this young man he’d always thought insignificant and unimportant.

Now everything made sense. Ranma cursed himself for not figuring it out sooner.

He had to force himself not to lunge at the other boy—to remind himself again and again, that he wasn’t a martial artist. But if Ranma didn’t get some real good answers from Gosunkugi, then he would love to make an exception...

In barely controlled anger, he said, “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

The other boy’s entire body went tense, and slowly—so very slowly, he turned around, his eyes wide in shock and fear.

“Start talking,” Ranma said, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why did you send us this stuff? Do you know...?” He let his last words hang in the air, already knowing the answer. But it was important to have that final confirmation; to hear it spoken out loud.

But all this time, Akane had remained quiet, silently watching the other boy uncomfortably, feeling sick and confused. A part of her was praying now that it was all a coincidence; that he wouldn’t do something so awful—that it was all some kind of mistake.

Kuno she could believe—some stranger even, but—but Gosunkugi? She barely even knew him! Sure, he was strange, and might have had a small crush on her... but she couldn’t understand why anyone—especially him—would go to such lengths. Though, the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. He had always been into voodoo, into spells and charms. But she had always found him harmless...

“Well,” Ranma continued, quickly growing impatient, “start talking already.”

Gosunkugi didn’t need any further motivation. With a long, shuddering sob, the boy that no one seemed to notice—the one who many people ignored and disregarded, finally started to talk. And Ranma and Akane quietly listened.

* * *

On her sixteenth birthday, I saw Emi for the first time. She was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing a long, black dress—smiling and laughing, as she spoke with her father and her sisters.

…I couldn’t take my eyes off her…

She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen: everything she did radiated beauty. It was a part of her, something no other girl could ever hope to equal—she walked in beauty.

And then, that night when her eyes met mine, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, that my heart would never slow down, and that I would never get that image of her out of my mind again.

Out of all the faces in the crowd—out of all the people she could have seen— she looked at me.

It was only for a second, but I knew she must have felt something.

After that, not a moment passed when I didn’t think of her—not a day went by when I wasn’t dreaming of her, of longing to make her mine, and mine alone.

…But then she met Daichi...

The day I was told about the rumors—about their inevitable engagement, it felt like my heart had been torn from my chest. I knew I had no chance of winning her now—not with him in the picture.

And he didn’t deserve her.

Not Emi. Not MY Emi.

…And just when I thought all hope was lost…

It was by chance that I found it—my master’s old book, the one he had forbid me from ever reading. He kept it safely locked away, in a box that was protected by powerful magic—complex spells I could never hope to unlock.

Powerful, that is, as long as it remained locked away.

And then it happened: one day when I wasn’t expected, I saw to my astonishment and delight, the forbidden book, lying before me—open, inviting. It called to me from its place on my master’s table.

Unable to resist the temptation, I read all I could, eagerly searching for something I could use.

And then I found it: a spell that could get you your heart’s desire.

All I ever wanted was Emi.

Without fear or regret, I read aloud the enchanted words… unmindful of my master’s wrath, or the price it would cost me for using such powerful, forbidden magic.

I was in love, and desperate. And this was my last chance.

I didn’t know it was a summoning spell—that it was a way to conjure up a powerful demon that had been safely locked away for eons. If I had, I never would have gone through with it.

And the demon, it terrified me.

…but it said it could get me what I desired most…

So I followed its orders and received its commands, allowing it to become my new master. And the first thing my master said we needed to do was to get rid of Daichi…

* * *

Gosunkugi lowered his head. “That’s the last thing I remember,” he told them, shifting closer to the shrine. “It must have possessed me soon after that. The only other thing I remember is waking up after it was all over—after, after Emi was dead, and the demon was gone.” He paused for a moment, his eyes dark with regret and anger. “The demon,” he continued slowly, with difficulty, “it never meant to help me. It was just using me.”

Ranma walked purposefully towards him, and raising his hand, slapped him across the face with his open palm. “Idiot!” he shouted, visibly shaking. “Do you have any idea what you did? Because of your stupidity that thing latched itself onto Akane!”

Gosunkugi shrank away from him, clearly terrified. “I—I didn’t mean to—” he faltered, his eyes wide.

Akane quickly stepped forward, moving so that she was standing between the two boys. “Ranma, stop it,” she commanded, her voice hard. “Yelling at him won’t get us anywhere. Gosunkugi,” she continued, her eyes on him, “do you have any idea how to stop it?”

Looking miserable, he shook his head. “No,” he replied so very softly. “Ever since I remembered, I’ve been looking but—but I haven’t found a thing.”

Akane took a long, deep breath, She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her anger in check. “Let’s go,” she said quickly, turning away from Gosunkugi and back to Ranma. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with Doctor Tofu.”

Gosunkugi visibly relaxed; no doubt glad the interrogation was over. But Ranma, grabbing his arm, hauled him to his feet. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet,” he told him. “You’re coming with us.”

Whimpering, Gosunkugi allowed himself to be dragged away, knowing from experience that struggling was useless. Even the thought of being in Akane Tendo’s presence wasn’t enough to relay his fears. His mind was busy conjuring up images of all the damage Ranma would do to him once he realized there was no way to save her.

His Grandfather cheerfully waved goodbye as he watched them leave the temple, no doubt thrilled that Hikaru appeared to have found friends.

* * *

Luckily, it didn’t take them long to reach Doctor Tofu’s: the chill, hostile air surrounding them had become almost palpable. As expected, the older man was waiting for them as they entered his office, one extra person in tow.

“Well,” Doctor Tofu said, surprised to see the extra visitor. “Who do we have here?”

Ranma pushed the frightened pale boy forward, who immediately looked down at the ground. “Meet the guy who ruined our lives,” Ranma said, his voice filled with bitterness. “Hikaru Gosunkugi.”

Tofu smiled kindly for the newest guest. “Pleased to meet you, Gosunkugi-kun,” he told him, bowing in greeting. “So,” he continued, turning his attention to Ranma and Akane. “What did you two happen to find out?”

Akane was kind enough to fill him in on everything Gosunkugi had told them, while Ranma was preoccupied throwing death-glares in his direction every few seconds. When it was all over, Doctor Tofu leaned back, looking confused.

“That’s odd,” he told them, shaking his head. “If this demon was known to be extremely powerful, surely it would have been able to directly accomplish its task: why take the trouble of getting Daichi out of the way, when he should have been able to affect Akane directly?”

“Hey, I never thought of that,” Ranma said, quickly turning to Gosunkugi. “Well?” he questioned. “Did the demon say anything else? Like, why he couldn’t just snap his fingers and make her fall in love with you or something?”

At that, life seemed to return to Gosunkugi: his eyes lit up, and suddenly, he was smiling. “He—he did try something,” he told them suddenly. “Soon after I summoned him—after I told him what I wanted—he tried some kind of spell. But, but I don’t think it worked. He looked angry afterwards—but then, got excited, saying something about a thread of some sort. And that’s when he told me we’d have to get rid of Daichi first.”

Suddenly Doctor Tofu smacked his hand in his palm. “That’s it!” he said, sounding excited. “I can’t believe I missed it before!” Without wasting a moment, the good doctor stood up, and making his way towards his bookcase, grabbed a large leather-bound book from off the highest shelf. “It’s somewhere in here, I think,” he said, more to himself than to them. After flipping through several hundred pages, suddenly he stopped, and grinning triumphantly, pushed his glasses up higher along the ridge of his nose. “Here it is,” he said, placing the book flat on the table before them.

It was only a small paragraph, with one word in bold followed closely by a short description. “I’m embarrassed that I never thought of it before,” he told them, motioning towards the large book. “This is a book on mythical demons and gods. It was given to me by my great-great grandmother years ago. Unfortunately, I’ve never been very interested in this particular subject which is why it took me so long to remember. But if you’d care to read it aloud, Ranma, I think you’ll realize why this section specifically, stood out in my mind.”

Ranma, looking thoroughly confused, immediately complied, and bending low over the book read the short paragraph aloud.

Fate: A force that is said to predetermine a person’s life; often seen as inescapable and unchangeable. This concept has been exemplified in many different ways: The Fates of Greek Mythology, The Red String of Fate, or Manifest Destiny, an American concept, to name a few.

“The key word here,” Tofu continued at Ranma’s blank and confused look, “is unchangeable. When something is said to be determined by fate, no one is supposed to be allowed to alter it. Even in Greek Myths, Zeus and the Gods were not permitted to control or alter it at their whims; they too were at the mercy of The Fates. The Red String then, is an extension of that same idea. Since you and Akane are joined by fate, the demon’s magic was unable to touch you, and that’s why it couldn’t fulfill Gosunkugi’s wish.”

“But how did it manage to curse us then?” Akane asked, puzzled.

“I believe,” Doctor Tofu went on uncomfortably, “that the creature, in some way, used Gosunkugi’s wish to latch itself onto you by way of your red string. That, at least, would explain why it’s been able to find you in every life: it’s been connected to you this whole time. That shadow,” he explained, staring at the point where it was glowing brightest, “is the demon.”

“Why hasn’t Akane Tendo fallen in love with me then?” Gosunkugi complained, temporarily forgetting they were in the room with him. “I summoned it—it should still be forced to do my bidding!”

“Idiot,” Akane replied angrily, beating Ranma to the punch. “I wouldn’t fall in love with you if you were the last boy on Earth. No amount of magic could change that!”

“Technically, he is fulfilling your wish,” Tofu told him, ignoring the squabbling teenagers. “Since he can’t force Akane to love you, he’s doing the only other thing he can: keeping her away from the one fate’s promised her to.” Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for what he was about to say next. “You said, Ranma, that the creature made a mistake… that it was initially you it had intended to kill. If that’s true, then that could explain why it keeps coming back. Since it took Akane by accident, it’s unable to complete its debt to Gosunkugi—and until the circle is broken, I believe it will continue in much the same way.”

“Okay,” Ranma said slowly, taking it all in. “So how do we do that then? Nothing else we’ve tried has done much good.”

“There are only two ways that I can think of,” he told them. “Though I must remind you that these are theories only, and pure conjecture on my part. But, I’m afraid to say, neither of you will like either of these options. One,” he said, continuing on despite his reluctance. “The demon must willingly accomplish the task it set out to do: namely, kill Ranma instead of Akane.”

The color drained from Akane’s face at that, and Ranma’s jaw tightened.

“This, however, is highly unlikely,” Doctor Tofu told them. “If it wanted to complete its debt, it would have done so already. I assume that getting to come out of hiding once a lifetime in order to kill, is more than it could have ever hoped for. It knows that once it completes the task, it’ll be forced once again into confinement until someone new summons him.”

“And the second option?” Akane asked nervously, knowing she wasn’t going to like this one any more than the last.

Doctor Tofu closed the large leather bound book and paused for a moment, looking apologetic. “The only other option I can think of, is for you to sever the one thing that is keeping the demon connected to you.”

Akane heart grew heavy at that, and her chest began to ache. “You... you’re talking about breaking the string.”

Doctor Tofu nodded. “It’s the only conceivable way I can think of,” he told her sadly.

“So then,” Ranma said after a moment’s pause. “How do we cut it?”

“Ranma!” Akane yelled, surprised and hurt. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?!”

“Dummy,” he shot back, “of course I do. Did you think I’d just sit back and let that bastard take you again when there’s a way to stop it?”

“You’re the dummy! If you cut the red string then we’ll never—I won’t ever,” she paused, having trouble forming the words. Exasperated, she shook her head. Speaking softly she said: “Our time together would end as Ranma and Akane, stupid.”

“Don’t care,” he said stubbornly, turning away. “If I can just be with you in this life, I’ll be happy.” Again addressing Doctor Tofu, he asked, “How do we cut it?”

“Actually, I’m not even sure if you can,” Doctor Tofu told him, having the good sense to look embarrassed. “I’ve seen many lines that have been cut, of course, but I can’t be sure how they ended up that way—some, I assume are because of death. The other way, I’m afraid, is actually more of a legend than anything, so I can’t be sure if it’s genuine or not.”

Grabbing the same heavy tome, he quickly flipped through the pages, clearly searching for something. Then, his eyes widened and a smile lighted his face as he stopped. “Here,” he said, holding the page open for all of them to see. “This is your answer.”

It was a picture of a pair of scissors.

Ranma frowned, and leaned back in his chair, clearly disappointed. “That’s it?” he asked, his voice flat. “Some scissors? That’s the big secret?”

“I—I have some scissors at home you can use,” Gosunkugi offered.

Tofu smiled kindly at them, but shook his head. “These are a special kind of scissors,” he explained, motioning once again to the image on the page. “These are the only scissors in existence which are said to be able to cut through the red string of fate. It’s unlikely that you’d find them sitting at home someplace.”

“You said this is just a legend though, right?” Akane asked, sounding uncertain. “Doesn’t that mean they might not really exist?”

“Well, I’ve never seen them personally,” he replied. “All I know is what I’ve read. But,” he continued with more confidence, “I don’t see why such a thing shouldn’t exist. We’ve certainly come across stranger things.”

Akane visibly deflated at that, but Ranma looked encouraged, and for the first time, hopeful. “Maybe the old letch or the old ghoul will know where we can find ‘em. They’re always finding weird stuff like that!”

“There is, however, one small drawback,” Doctor Tofu said slowly, haltingly. “The book mentions that to mess with fate has serious consequences, and to do so, requires a certain price—what that price is, however, the book doesn’t say.”

“A price?” Akane questioned. “I wonder what that means...”

“Ah, who cares,” Ranma said, standing up. “It’s probably something stupid anyway—‘sides, we gotta worry about how to find the thing first; we can worry about the rest later.”

“Fate—it’s very strong,” Gosunkugi spoke up timidly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to take such a warning lightly—” an angry glare from Ranma had him quickly shutting his mouth, and quietly retreating to a safe distance across the room once more, “—or not,” he finished lamely.

“I’m afraid Gosunkugi may be correct, Ranma,” Doctor Tofu said, picking up the book. “Messing with fate can be very dangerous; you may want to consider what it is you’re willing to lose before pinning all of your hopes on those scissors. If the price turns out to be higher than you bargained for then you’ll have no alternative when the creature finally returns.”

“It’s probably just our first newborn son or somethin’,” Ranma replied, waving the concern away. “Truth is, we ain’t got no other weapon. The scissors are our last hope—so no matter the price, I’ll pay it.”

“Ranma...”

“Come on, Akane,” he told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Happosai will have the scissors back at the Dojo. He’s got so much junk, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re just sitting somewhere in his room.”

“Wait Ranma,” Akane replied, dragging her feet. Turning to Doctor Tofu, she smiled apologetically. “Could we please have a copy of the picture, Doctor Tofu? It might help us track them down if we know exactly what it is we’re looking for.”

“Of course, Akane,” he replied, standing up, book in hand. “I have a copier in my office. I’ll be right back.”

Gosunkugi, meanwhile, had been practicing being invisible. It hadn’t taken him long to find a dark corner in the room in which to hide himself; though it didn’t seem to be working too well. Several minute after Tofu had left, he had instantly felt their eyes on him; Saotome’s, angry and accusing; Akane Tendo’s, confused and hurt.

Swallowing nervously, he tried to bury himself deeper within the gloom, unprepared to face the guilt such looks incurred. Even the fact that Akane Tendo was finally paying attention to him, wasn’t enough to ally his fears...

Yet, despite his worries, a part of him—the part that was still clinging to the hope that he hadn’t lost yet, that he still had a chance of defeating Saotome—felt oddly encouraged as well.

“Mistakes have a way of fixing themselves.”

His teacher used to say.

“There are no such things as mistakes in the world of magic.

It is one of the things which make it so powerful and so perfect.”

He had always found that thought reassuring: but after losing Emi in every life, just like Daichi, he had been hard-pressed to believe it. But now, finally, it looked like his master may have been right after all!

Although he had made a small mistake in the summoning spell—a mistake which, though minor, had proved detrimental in turning the spell on Emi rather than its intended target—it now looked like everything would work out in his favor.

If they could just find that special pair of scissors, then they could kill the demon and eliminate the thing that was connecting Emi and Daichi together once and for all.