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Chapter Ten: Arrival
“Would you know
If destiny hit you between the eyes?
Would you know
If the fates cuffed you upon the face?
Would you realize?”
—excerpt from an old Chinese ballad
* * * * * *
Akane was speechless. It couldn’t be—it was too cruel, too inhuman a joke. How could they have known? How could anyone have known? How could Ranma and the others have known that their last chance of salvation would turn out to be the source of their damnation?
In their desperation to find a cure, they’d grasped at something they barely had any knowledge about, and in the end that had proven to be their undoing.
There wasn’t a cure after all. There had never been a cure.
But Ranma had believed that there was, and he had paid dearly for that belief by bringing a new curse upon him and the other former Jusenkyoites’ heads.
No. Akane shook her head. It hadn’t been Ranma’s fault. The Shoryuu had fooled him. They’d all been fooled.
Ranma was still pacing about restlessly, his features livid with fury. “Why, those—those bastards!” he snarled. “I can’t believe they—I should never have—if I ever get my hands on them, I’ll...”
“It wasn’t your fault, Ranchan,” Ukyou soothed him.
“She’s right, son-in-law,” Cologne consoled him. “This is nobody’s fault. In fact, if it is anyone’s fault at all, it is mine for not being able to stop you.”
Ryouga glanced up, his green eyes glazed over in shock. “So...what does this mean?” he asked hollowly.
Cologne sighed. “Young man, do you recall that I mentioned that in order for the Jusenkyo curse to be eliminated, there had to be a price to pay first?”
Ryouga indicated yes.
“Well, in exchange for a cure, the Cave of Yasakami took the very same things the Dynasty was after when they pursued the five of you.”
The boy’s face went pale. “And those are...”
“...our souls,” finished Shampoo softly.
Cologne nodded. “Exactly. You traded your souls. And since the Jewel of Yasakami is currently in the possession of the Dragon Dynasty, then your souls are now with them.”
There was a brief, stunned silence.
Genma chose this moment to emit a bona fide Soun-Tendo wailing tirade. “What d’you mean, I’m going to lose my soul? I don’t want to lose my soul yet! I’m too young and handsome to die!”
Shampoo, Mousse, Ryouga, Ukyou, Akari, Soun, Akane, and even Nabiki remained sitting, too overwhelmed by the news to speak.
“Of course,” allowed Cologne, her tone grave, “there is one last thing.”
They all regarded her fearfully, no doubt dreading what more gut-wrenching revelations the old woman had to dispense on their behalf.
“We’ll have to wait and see whether any of you even have Curse of Yasakami. There is a fifty-percent chance that you didn’t even acquire the curse, after all.”
*BAM*
The entire group face-faulted, their limbs crooked in perfect ninety-degree angles.
Ryouga was the first back on his feet. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?” he yelled.
Ranma joined him, equally indignant. “Yeah—you coulda saved us the heart attack, old ghoul!”
Cologne scowled at her son-in-law’s usual impetuousness. “You didn’t ask,” she retorted.
Akane stood up. “This is getting way too weird for me,” she muttered, walking over the shoji doors. “Call me when something serious comes up.” And with that, she stepped out into the patio, sliding the doors closed behind her.
Ryouga was about to follow her, but he couldn’t when he was being subjected to Ukyou’s warning glare, as well as Akari’s soulful one, and with a sigh he sat back down. Still, he wasn’t about to let the matter drop. “Are you just gonna sit here while Akane’s out there all alone, Ranma?” he asked the other boy pointedly.
Ranma shot him a condescending look. “What am I, her shadow? It’s broad daylight, Ryouga, and besides, the Dragon clan ain’t after her, remember?”
The lost boy grumbled under his breath, but he refrained from cracking a rejoinder.
Ukyou twisted around toward Cologne. “So...that’s it?” she demanded, incredulous. “If they don’t have the curse, they’re fine, right?”
“Don’t be too hasty there, child,” admonished the old woman. “What we do now is wait.”
Ranma’s enthusiasm dissipated somewhat at this. “Wait for what?”
Cologne crooked an eye at him. “The symptoms of the curse, of course,” she answered rather casually. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about those dreams you had last night...”
* * * * * *
*SPLISH*
Water gushed out from the side and drenched the already slippery tile floor. Legions of tiny rainbow-hued bubbles twinkled on the porcelain rim.
This was dangerous. There was no denying that. Still, the feel of one’s body immersed in warm, frothing water was exhilarating. It was certainly a nice change of pace, especially after feeling water-logged and dirty after that long excursion.
Just a little more. The figure leaned back and closed its eyes. The others can wait. Just a little longer...
* * * * * *
“...and then she said something about me losin’ somebody.” Ranma shrugged, struggling to appear indifferent to the whole thing. “I dunno what she meant, but—”
Cologne interrupted his narrative. “ ‘She’?”
“Yeah. It was definitely a girl.”
Soun threw up his arms, distraught. “If this is yet another fiancee of Ranma’s that I don’t know about, then so help me, Saotome, I’ll—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daddy,” Nabiki reassured him. “That was just a girl’s voice from some silly dream Ranma had last night, that’s all.”
“Dream, yes. Silly, no.” Cologne’s tone was sharp. “These dreams are no laughing matter. It is through them that the Dynasty has attempted to make contact with you. They will try to reach you by exploiting the most intimate and personal details of your respective lives. And trust me, they will know things about you that they cannot possibly know.”
“And how is that?” demanded Soun.
Cologne shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Tendo. Perhaps all your lives they have watched you, or perhaps they have already conducted extensive background searches on you. I do not know.”
Everyone automatically turned to look at Nabiki.
She held up her hands. “People, people, really!” she protested. “True, I may be a bit...unscrupulous in my business affairs, but I wouldn’t sell out you guys to an all-powerful monarchy bent on possessing your souls now, would I?”
“Oh, this is just great,” muttered Ranma. He swept his arm out dramatically. “Now my life’s a regular soap opera on The Dynasty Channel. How can this possibly get any worse?”
“They can, son-in-law. You just wait.” And with that, Cologne shifted her attention toward Mousse, who was looking very ill at ease. “Now, Mousse, try to recall this. Was it a male or a female voice that spoke to you in your dream?”
Mousse tugged at his collar, feeling a bit nauseated. If he revealed that the voice had offered to strike a bargain with him with the stakes being Shampoo’s heart, then Cologne would probably be less than pleased. Not to mention the fact that the object of his affections would deem him despicable for even contemplating such a thing.
“I—it was male,” he croaked. “Definitely male.”
“And what did he tell you?”
He hoped that she wouldn’t see that he was starting to perspire profusely. “Err, ah...he tried to lure me in by making a deal with me, but I refused. Really, I did. Absolutely.” He was babbling now, and it took nearly all his self-control to snap his mouth shut.
Strangely, Cologne didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, and she just nodded in her usual sage manner. “Ah, so it appears that they are intent on turning us against each other as well. Good. That means that we are making them uneasy—otherwise they would not have bothered attempting to ‘communicate’ with us, so to speak.” She focused next on Shampoo, who was idly twirling patterns on the tabletop. “And what about you, Shampoo? What did he tell you?”
“He—he try to intimidate Shampoo, that all,” she declared. “He say that he know about Chinese Amazons, and that Shampoo...” The Chinese girl trailed off, frowning a little as she remembered an especially peculiar remark. “...Shampoo remind him of someone.”
“Is that so?” Cologne contemplated this bit of information. “How very...odd.”
“What? What is?” Ranma glanced from her to Shampoo, practically brimming over with curiosity.
“What did he mean when he said Shampoo ‘reminded’ him of someone?” Mousse leaned forward, feeling the old protectiveness wash over him again. “Do you know what that means?”
The Amazon elder shook her head in a rueful manner. “I have no idea. But let’s ignore that for now. Shampoo, did he say anything else to you?”
“He...he tell Shampoo many hurtful things...” she admitted, sneaking a furtive look at the pigtailed youth.
Mousse’s fists clenched and unclenched in barely suppressed anger, while Ranma ducked his head, aware of Shampoo’s eyes on him. Ukyou’s head swiveled from side to side, completely clueless. Ryouga swiped surreptitiously at his bandanna.
A solicitous expression registered on Cologne’s shriveled features as she examined her great-granddaughter. “Hurtful things? What sort of hurtful things?”
Shampoo swallowed. “He...he tell me that...”
“That what, child?”.
“He just...tell me things.” The girl looked away for a second. When she turned back toward the old woman, her countenance was taut with resolve. “But Shampoo no worried. Shampoo know that what he say not true.”
She didn’t seem eager to reveal any more, and Cologne didn’t press her. “Very well. Keep that in mind, Shampoo—they are all lies. Not one smidgen of truth in them.” Satisfied with the girl’s nod of agreement, she went on to question a tentative-looking Ryouga. “And you, young man?”
“Hold on a second,” interrupted Genma. “Aren’t you going to ask me about this? I came into contact with the Yasakami water too, you know!”
“Did you have any odd dream last night?” Cologne asked him bluntly.
Genma scratched his bald pate. He’d had a nightmare about his wife Nodoka beating him into a grease spot again, but that sort of dream was coming back to him on a regular basis, so there was nothing really odd about it. “Well, ah...no, I suppose.”
Cologne sniffed. “Then I assume that the Dynasty considered you too old to fit into their plans, then.”
Soun let out a snort of laughter, but Genma was indignant. “Huh?”
The old crone waved dismissively in his direction, concentrating once more on Ryouga. “Well, young man? Do you want to tell us about what happened to you last night while you were sleeping?”
A sense of discomfort gnawed at Ryouga’s stomach as he felt the weight of the group’s stare. He’d been praying that Cologne would exempt him from her interrogation, but apparently there was no such luck. He began to twiddle his fingers, andAkari touched his shoulder encouragingly.
“Well? Spit it out, you jackass!” urged Ukyou.
“They probably gave pig-boy here an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Ranma couldn’t resist gibing.
Ryouga’s cheeks burned at this. “Shut up, Ranma,” he snapped. Inside, though, his heart was jackhammering in his chest. No matter how much he would try to deny it, Ranma’s statement had struck a little too close to home.
“Did someone speak to you, Ryouga?” Cologne peered up at him. “Was it a female or male voice?”
Ryouga squeezed his eyes shut. “Ahhh...female,” he mumbled.
“And what did she tell you?”
He licked his lips. “I—I don’t remember.”
Oh, yes, he did. He remembered everything—the way she looked, the perfume of her hair, the way she moved, her hand under his shirt...
{Tell me what you want, and it will be yours.}
“She...kinda threatened me, that’s all,” he went on. “And she said—”
{Ryouga Hibiki, you are mine.}
Ryouga stood up abruptly, startling the group and nearly bowling Akari over in his haste. “Um...excuse me,” he stammered, clearly flustered. “I—need to use the bathroom...”
Before anyone could stop him, he fled, leaving a roomful of people staring after him.
Finally Ukyou broke the stillness. “Hey, you moron, the bathroom’s the other way!”
* * * * * *
How did I get here?
Ryouga glared up at the front gates of the Tendo dojo, as if challenging them to answer his question.
Too close. He’d almost bumbled out of the dojo this time without really meaning to. If he did manage to blunder out into the great big world with this current state of affairs, there was no telling what would happen to him out there. Especially now, with an empire full of half-gods after his skin and with the promise of yet another and perhaps more devastating curse hanging over his head.
Leaning against a nearby tree, he tried to clear his jumbled head. Cologne’s cross-examination had unnerved him, mainly because it had provoked a flood of memories that he would rather just forget.
Who was that girl who’d spoken to him so sweetly in his dreams? And how come he’d been the only one among the four who’d seen her? Ranma had mentioned that she’d declared him as “hers”, but even he hadn’t confronted her face-to-face. He hadn’t been captivated by her, or felt the cool touch of her hand on his skin...
He felt sick. The very recollection made him feel lower than dirt. How could he have been so weak? How could he have allowed himself to forget about Akane, even for a moment?
Oh, Akane...forgive me...it is true...I don’t deserve you...
“Hello? Are you there?”
Ryouga’s eyes snapped open. Was that Akane’s voice? He peeked around the tree. And sure enough, there she was, in the middle of the dojo’s front yard, apparently engrossed in some sort of search.
For a moment, he debated whether he should let her know that he was there. He was about to turn away in dejection when her next words sent a chill into his heart.
“P-Chan? Where are you, P-Chan?”
* * * * * *
“Hey, Akane.”
Akane lifted her head at the familiar voice, and she beamed at him. “Why, hello, Ryouga.”
The boy in front of her seemed to be bothered by something, a fact that was demonstrated by the manner in which he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. For the life of her, though, she could not figure out what he was so nervous about. So she waited, her eyes darting now and then toward the surrounding shrubbery.
After a minute or so he cleared his throat. “Ahh...I guess you’re looking for your pet P-Chan, huh?” His voice came out a touch higher than he would have wanted.
“Yeah,” she confirmed, running a hand through her blue-black hair. “Could you help me look for him?” She smiled up at him again. “Please, Ryouga? Pretty please?”
He swayed on his feet, teetering precariously to his right. Fortunately, he caught himself before he fell over. “Uhm, Akane...I—”
Akane surveyed him questioningly. “Yes, Ryouga?”
He grinned crookedly. “Uhmm...ahh...there’s—there’s something I need to tell you...”
There was a long silence. A bird twittered from somewhere above her.
“Yes?” she prompted him patiently.
His next words poured out of him in a stream. “AkaneIthinkyoushouldknowthatP-Chan’s gone.”
“Huh?” Akane was confused.
“Ehh...ah...” He seemed to be groping for words.
A pinprick of dread nicked at Akane’s soul. “There’s something you want to tell me about P-Chan, isn’t there?”
Ryouga glanced at her, and on his face was an expression that almost resembled agony. It was so like him, she thought admiringly, in spite of herself. He was so sweet and considerate of her being that he always tried to break bad news to her in the gentlest way possible.
He tried again, and this time his words were intelligible. “A-Akane, I think you should know...P-Chan’s gone.”
Akane was quiet, but only for a heartbeat. Then she shook her head vehemently. “No, he isn’t.”
He tried again. “Akane...”
“He’s right here, Ryouga.” She met his eyes steadily, attempting to dispel his worry. “Here in the yard. I saw him here last night.”
His reaction was entirely different from what she predicted. Several waves of emotion washed over his features—first disbelief, then shock, which was finally topped off by something that looked suspiciously like terror. His complexion was taking on an interesting green hue.
“Ryouga? Are you okay?” Akane queried, her countenance wrought with concern.
He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. “Yeah,” he croaked at last. “Err, wait—you said...you said you saw P-Chan out here—”
“—last night,” Akane finished for him, unable to contain her excitement. “Yup. I called out to him, but I guess he didn’t hear me and I couldn’t go out, so I decided to come out here now to look for him.”
“Last night,” Ryouga squeaked.
“Yup.”
“Not two days ago? A week ago?”
“Why, no.”
“Are you sure you saw him last night?”
Akane bobbed her head up and down. “I’m sure. I hope he’s here—he seemed so lost and lonely...”
Ryouga clamped a hand on his forehead. “Oh, no,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
She studied him, a little disturbed now by his peculiar behavior. “Ryouga...you’re scaring me...”
His head whipped up at that, and he tossed her a smile—a feeble, shaky smile. “Ahh...it’s nothing, Akane,” he replied, edging backwards toward a dojo door.
“Are you sure?” she insisted. She took one step toward him, and he almost jumped back a mile. She was beginning to suspect that there was more to this.
“Y-y-yeah! I’m positive! Really!” He started as his back bumped into the wall of the Tendo dojo. With a speed that easily rivaled Ranma’s, he spun around and flung the door open, almost ripping it out of its hinges. “Well...um, good luck finding P-Chan, Akane...I—ah—gotta go...see ya...bye!”
“Ryouga...”
*WHAM*
Akane stood alone in the middle of the yard, her eyes fixed on the spot Ryouga had so tumultuously vacated. If she didn’t know better, she speculated, she could’ve sworn that he was actually terrified of P-Chan. But then again, who could possibly be threatened by an adorable little black piglet?
She heaved a sigh and resumed her hunt for P-Chan. Maybe it was just her, but things seemed to be getting even stranger than usual around here.
* * * * * *
No...it can’t be...
Ryouga hunched over in the hallway of the Tendo dojo, his breath coming out of him in labored gasps. His encounter with Akane had left him even more nauseous than when he’d escaped Cologne’s third degree.
So Akane had seen P-Chan last night. She’d certainly been obstinate enough about that. But that was impossible—he was P-Chan.
And P-Chan was no more.
Ryouga Hibiki was cured. Cologne had acquiesced that the cave did relieve people of their respective curses—even ones that turned a human into a piglet at the merest touch of cold water. He and Mousse had landed in the Koi pond and they hadn’t transformed.
He had to be cured. He was cured.
Wasn’t he?
A new thought nagged at him. Suppose this “cure” of Yasakami was purely temporary, like that mail-order waterproof soap from Jusenkyo? And what if last night that dream of his had somehow affected him in some way that caused him to change into his P-Chan persona and sleepwalk right into the dojo’s front yard for everyone—well, maybe just Akane—to see? For some inexplicable reason, he was fairly certain that the dreams had a part to play in the incident that occurred that morning. Or maybe he was just blowing things out of proportion. After all, he did have this somewhat annoying tendency to overreact.
He tilted his head back against the wall, his jaw hardening with resolve. Fine. He was going to find out if he really was cured. But first, he had to discover some sort of foolproof method he could utilize in order to determine the status of his curse.
What to do...what to do...ahah!
He grasped the knob of the door nearest to him—the door to the bathroom of the Tendo dojo. As was his habit, he checked the front for the “Do Not Disturb” sign, and was gratified to see that it wasn’t there.
A good long soak in some cold water is what I need, he thought, twisting the knob. If it’s anything like the Jusenkyo waterproof soap, then it’ll wash off after a while...
And if it didn’t, then he was going to stay in that tub as long as it took.
Satisfied by this rather impractical solution, Ryouga walked through the doorway, hearing an audible click as the bolt slid into the latch.
* * * * * *
Downstairs, the conversation raged on.
“Great-grandmother, what you mean when you say ‘symptoms’ of curse?”
“Ah, yes, the first ‘symptoms’—the signs that alert one to the fact that the Curse of Yasakami is, indeed, upon them. From what I have gathered so far from the Chinese Amazon elders before I left, granddaughter, is that the Yasakami curse manifests itself in a few distinct ways.”
“Which are?”
“Patience, Mousse. As I was saying, there are several warning signs that indicate that the beginnings of the Yasakami Curse. One early symptom you have already experienced—the dreams you have just had—a sure sign that the Yasakami water you immersed yourselves in has successfully established a bond of sorts with the Dynasty. But do not worry, for this is but an irrelevant side effect from the cave water. The bond should fade shortly if you are not under the curse...”
* * * * * *
*SCHWEP*
His yellow shirt slapped against the tile floor.
*SCHWEP*
His pants followed.
*SCHWEP*SCHWEP*SCHWEP*
He peeled his clothes off layer after layer, discarding them recklessly onto the floor, initiating his movements with all the passion of an automaton. When he was done he nudged the pile into a corner with his toes. Rather carelessly, he grabbed the solitary saffron-colored towel hanging from the rack just a few feet away from the tub. It was a rather small towel, but he shrugged the fact aside and began to knot it firmly around his waist.
I must find out if I still have the Jusenkyo curse once and for all, he thought stubbornly, vaguely noting that the towel barely extended past his thighs. This is but an inconvenience...
So engrossed was he in his task that he failed to see the clouds of steam that emitted from the direction of the tub, which lay nearly concealed behind the bath curtain.
He didn’t notice when faint splashes of water issued from the tub as someone shifted inside it.
He didn’t notice when the curtain was suddenly drawn back.
And he certainly didn’t notice the figure that stepped out.
Finally he glanced up. And blinked. And blinked again.
It was Ranma.
Or, to be more accurate, it was girl-type Ranma.
She was standing in front of the still-filled tub, gazing at him with huge azure eyes, her glossy red hair sleek and dripping from her bath.
And she wasn’t wearing anything.
* * * * * *
“Now answer me straight this time, old woman...how can we tell if we, indeed, have the Curse of Yasakami upon us?”
“There is only one ways of knowing for certain, Saotome. Only one way.”
“Annnndd what’s that?” came the wary reply.
“Suffice it to say, son-in-law, that you will know should it ever occur...”
* * * * * *
The heat that collected somewhere in Ryouga’s nose—his body’s natural response after witnessing too much exposed female flesh—was immediately extinguished as he remembered just who he was gaping at. After all, he’d seen Onna-Ranma naked lots of times. Toss in the fact that this girl was actually a male, and his nosebleed was banished to the farthest corners of his nasal passages.
After his initial shock had melted away, he walked over, crossing the space between them in two purposeful strides. Onna-Ranma raised her head to look at him, her petite, feminine form suddenly dwarfed by his tall, virile one.
“It didn’t work, did it?” Ryouga rasped. His voice was low, pained.
Onna-Ranma continued to stare up at him.
“I knew it,” he went on. “I knew that it was too good to be true...”
She still stared.
“...what a fool I was...I actually dared to believe that there was a cure for my affliction,” Ryouga declared, not even pausing for breath. “I’m not cured, am I? And neither are you. None of us are. That’s why Akane saw P-Chan last night. That was me—I must’ve been drenched by cold water, and I was probably sleepwalking last night...”
She stared.
“...and that’s why you’re here...the cave water didn’t cure us at all, did it?” Ryouga reached out and gripped her small slippery wrist in his hand, his eyes shining in anguish. “The Cave of Yasakami was a delusion—it never took the Jusenkyo curse away from us, did it?”
She stared.
Ryouga ceased his rambling, a bit puzzled by her state of speechlessness. “Hey. Hey, Ranma.” He gave her arm a little shake. “What’s the matter? Cat get your tongue or somethi—”
He trailed off as he saw her stare travel down his body, then up again, in a fashion that was purposeful as it was unsettling. Her blatant appraisal was enough to induce inside him a surge of acute self-consciousness as he stood there in front of her clad in nothing but a miniscule yellow towel.
Warning bells were going off on his head as he let his own gaze land on the brimming tub. That was then he noticed, for the first time, that the filmy water inside was giving forth little puffs of steam, and the mist was warm against his bare skin.
Slowly, slowly, he turned his head back toward the naked girl in front of him, his hand still enclosed over her wrist. His fears were confirmed a second later as the girl reared back her head, scrunched up her face, and opened her mouth.
“Eeeeeeeeeekkk! Pervert!”
* * * * * *
Everyone was already halfway up the stairs even before the blood-curdling scream had a chance to ring out of their ears.
Getting up to the second floor had been, to say the least, a difficult task. In their hurry to investigate the source of the scream, they’d somehow managed to get stuck in the middle of the stairway in one huge squirming mass. It was only after some well-placed elbows and trampling of limbs that they untangled themselves and resumed the stampede up to the second floor.
A succession of thumps alerted them to the bathroom, where they discovered to their chagrin that the door was closed and bolted. Finally Ranma—despite Soun’s tearful protests—knocked it down with an extra-powerful roundhouse kick, and the panicked assemblage poured into the steam-filled room.
The sight that confronted them next hit them with all the force of a bullet train.
Ryouga was sitting in the tub, naked, his lower half submerged in soapy water. Straddling him was someone who bore more than a passing resemblance to Ranma’s female form—except she was completely separate from him, wrapped in nothing but a tiny yellow towel, and had her hands around Ryouga’s neck, trying her best to strangle him.
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