-1Disclaimer: I don’t own Ranma ½. Please don’t sue, I’m just doing this for fun.

Author notes: Chapter 18 of First I Giveth as we bring Ukyo, Happosai, and the big confrontation between the sisters Tendo. This gonna be a long one, so hold on tight yo. Roll it!

First I Giveth

Chapter 18 For What We Dream Of…

By Marik Kurakashi

Ukyo patiently wiped down the counter, the restaurant empty after the final customer for the day had left. The business was almost too large a boon, as she hadn’t been able to register at school just yet. Though she didn’t really care about her education, she knew that Ranma, or someone who knew him, went to school.

So, she would sacrifice a few prime selling hours in exchange for info that would lead her to her revenge. The thief and his lying son would be brought to justice and Ukyo would shove it all back in her father’s face. The affection she may have held for the man who had sired her was lost when he had admitted he wanted Genma to take the cart so he could retire.

To be willingly ripped off was the height of cowardice as far as Ukyo was concerned.

And yet, she kept the family name that linked her to that sack of crap. It was mainly because she didn’t want to try and be a ronin, even in today’s more tolerant society. Japan was famous for its wide smile discrimination, dumping all over people with a smile and a friendly wave.

She crossdressed, mainly because it pissed her father off. Though he had made it no secret he had wanted a son, he wanted his daughter to be his daughter. It was just too bad his ideal of a daughter was something out of the Feudal era: quiet, unassuming, and out of the way.

To say nothing of his two faced standards on just about everything else.

Her greatest outrage against her father came when she discovered on her thirteenth birthday that the mother she had always been told had died birthing her had shown up to wish her little girl a happy birthday. Her rage knew no bounds, as she had left permanent scars on him. The petty man had denied her the right to know her mother simply because he was ashamed she left him for not being able to adequately support his growing family.

The filthy liar who pretended to be her father, grew meek and scared of her, unable to muster the courage to stop her in whatever she wanted to do. She had played fast and loose with her last school, gaining the reputation of a heartbreaker as she had dated girls just to see him wallow in his misery. Sure, it was twisted, but after he had lied to her for the better part of her life, she felt justified in her actions.

If hatred was a fire, her ill will towards her father would burn down Japan ten times over.

However, that hate paled in comparison to the inferno that raged in her for the Saotomes. The father and son crook duo had shattered the idyllic life that she lead, had uncovered all the awful truths that were hidden about her father. Ranma, that pigtailed menace, stole all he wanted from them, in fact, he had never paid for a single okonomiyaki ever.

But his father was even worse. Like a snake, he wove himself inside her father’s weak defenses, and took all he wanted from the flake. Even now, she still could see them running off with the cart, the cart that had been the very foundation of her world.

And like a house without a sturdy foundation, her world collapsed down around her ears.

Tears slowly formed around her eyes as she remembered her training by the sea. She fought off crabs, colds, and all other maladies in order to craft the perfect serving form. Through her strained knees, her bloody lips, and all other forms of pain, she had done everything she could to be the best at serving okonomiyaki.

She wasn’t going to let her dreams slip away. Wasn’t going to let two thieves ruin her dream to be the best okonomiyaki chef in all of Japan. She destroyed the pride of countless chefs with cold, uncaring ruthlessness. Their tears served as a reminder that for her dream to come true, every other dream would have to be shattered.

Her heart would cry the tears she could not, the tears that had been born that day when it all came crashing down.

Though the sea had helped her immensely, it had taken a huge price of her. It left her a much more callous and uncaring person, as though it had stolen a piece of her humanity. The sea doesn’t give without taking, the old dock master had said. It tested you, to see if you were worthy of its gift.

Ice flowed through her veins most of the time, thawing enough to allow a shallow smile to a customer, the brainless masses who couldn’t read that the sea had made her a part of it. No matter how far she strayed from its shores, she would still have that small bit of endless emptiness. That place where she could retreat to hide from the arrows of damaging emotions.

Kuonji Ukyo, 16, a young girl who pretended she was a man… pretended like she no longer had a heart, or even the capacity to love.

The door opened, and the façade started again. Cheery, dimple filled smile. Sugary, ignorant drawl. And the fake look of someone who really, truly cared.

Customers came and ate, like sheep coming to a favorite spot of grass. Their toneless chatter about all the unimportant things in their unimportant life. They existed solely to Ukyo as a means of survival, a means of information. She had no capacity to really care about them, the sea had seen to that.

But the door would open… and the cycle began again.

- - -

Ah, the fresh air of the mountains. Healthy, revitalizing, it attracted all sorts of people. At the foot of this particular mountain, the evil rested as it snacked on some rice balls.

The sun rose in just the right way, dispelling the evil’s shadowy coat. In the light, a shriveled old man sat on the stone, unmindful of the unconscious young woman on the ground by him. While she wasn’t a looker by any stretch, she had served her purpose and helped fight off his craving.

He was Happosai, founder of Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu, and a mega-pervert.

“Ah,” he said, finishing the last rice ball. “Not that bad of a cook. Pity she isn’t pretty.”

He hopped down from the rock and began to think out his next move. He loved the mountain, but he couldn’t depend on the despairingly slight trickle of cuties that came here. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to go down the mountain, as he felt something that put him off base.

This force was unidentifiable, an alarm unto itself. The feeling that he got from this was akin to a mouse under the gaze of a cat. Suffocating, terrifying, and unnerving, feelings alien to the undefeatable Happosai. He was like a mountain, treacherous and unassailable, looming as the ultimate challenge and test for the spirit.

And yet, there was this force that warded him off, and shook him from his self-made pedestal.

If he stayed though, he risked withdrawals, his addiction to the feminine form threatening to leave him helpless. His greatest joy was also his greatest weakness, but few could take advantage of it. The charge he got from his touches was akin to plants converting sunlight into food.

But that wasn’t to say he was like a plant, as he often used the energy he got from the pretty girls to fight with. It was this added energy that accounted for his often cursed stamina, as he didn’t need to waste his own energy. Oh, how he wished his idiot pupils were here, so he could have some fun “training” them.

Also, he’d like to beat them within an inch of their lives for trapping him in that damnable cave.

He shrugged, feeling his age once more, unable to accurately gauge the years he had lost. Were they even alive? Were their children already raising children of their own? How was he to feel with the knowledge that his pupils, so many years his junior, had passed on before him?

For a moment, he allowed his emotions to flow free through him. While he wasn’t one to shun his emotions, giving into them made him feel all the more old and feeble. That meagerness, beyond all else, was what he hated the most.

But he was unable to remove it, as he continued to stare the long years in the face as they drifted by on the tides of eternity.

He had given up too much for the power he had attained, strrayed too far down a rain slicked precipice towards a pit of regrets. Too many companions turned away, too many students fled, all too often, he was left alone. The scars that had been left over the years had grown to a dull ache, unable to affect him like they had in his youth.

Of all his pupils, only those two idiots stayed. Soun and Genma, two bumbling fools who had stumbled out into his view, had stayed through every insane training exercise he could think of. Though they betrayed him in the end, they had done the exact same thing he had done to his master.

So he would forgive their betrayal, as he was a magnanimous being, befitting one with the title of Grandmaster.

…Or maybe it was just because he figured Soun’s daughters had grown to womanhood by now. One could never tell with the warped mind of Happosai, such as he was. A simple enigma, a two piece puzzle that had already been solved.

And thus, Happosai would continue to thrive, too challenging to beat. Too experienced to be dismissed, too crafty to be ignored. The people of Nerima would soon remember history’s greatest pervert, and they would know despair.

Soon, oh so very soon, the storm would worsen as the chaos descended further.

- - -

Haircare sighed as she climbed out of bed, another damnable day working at this hellhole called a restaurant. She was a warrior! She was important to the future of the tribe, and yet she had to bow her head to ignorant outsiders who looked down on her like a piece of meat.

The time she wasted working here could be used to train and become stronger. It was bad enough that the gap between herself and Shampoo hadn’t closed any, but to be denied the opportunity to close was maddening. Her “beloved” elder, the old bitty who picked her to fill her slake, continued to torment her at every turn.

It was likely the old crone had learned of her minor infractions, but that did not give her the right to humiliate her like this.

That purple haired trollop had been blessed by the gods above with amazing capabilities. It sickened Har to listen to the whispers about that naïve ditz being a genius. Shampoo glided through life on the back of that genius claim, one that had to surely be fabricated by her great-grandmother.

Shampoo, a genius? The very idea made Har want to throw up. How could she be a genius, when she didn’t work as hard everyone else had to for their skills? The so called genius couldn’t even make friends with anyone else, simply by her infuriating attitude of superiority.

If Shampoo was a genius, then Har surely was a Goddess.

The purple haired object of Har’s brooding was quietly training in the empty restaurant. She hadn’t been able to sleep, the excitement of seeing Ranma bridge the gap between himself and Cologne had filled her with a newfound desire. While she would live the life of an exile from now on, she didn’t mind it as much as she did when she first came to that decision.

Anego was here now, along with Ranma to make her feel welcomed. Though she knew that she’d never live up to the potential she had, being an elder wasn’t in her heart. They were feared to the point of respect, something she didn’t feel she could be.

Fierce in battle, passionate in pursuit of love, but all that hid was the kind heart underneath.

“Oh, you’re actually training for once?” Har called sarcastically as she came down into the dining room.

“Shampoo train all time, even on road looking for Ranma.” Shampoo answered, not even acknowledging her hated foe.

“I find that hard to believe,” the brown hair girl said as she walked over and stood in front of Shampoo.

“Shampoo no care if stupid Har believe her or not.” the purple hair girl said in response, going back to her kata without pause.

“Hah, you still can’t speak Japanese properly.” Har laughed, slapping her knee.

“Shampoo no care to speak Japanese properly, smart people understand anyways.” Shampoo answered with a cold tone of indifference.

“Bah.” Har snapped, crossing her arms and looking away.

“Why you no train? If so obsessed with Shampoo and her training, why you no train?” Shampoo asked, not even caring if she got an answer.

“Because she’s too stupid to do it unless someone tells her to.” Cologne answered, hopping into the room.

“Anego say boastful people often stupid and lazy, easy to outthink.” Shampoo said, barely acknowledging her great-grandmother, but enough not to draw the old woman’s wrath.

“Oh please, don’t tell me you listen to some outsider,” Har said with a dismissive sniff.

A finger suddenly poked her in the back of the head.

“You’re dead,” Nabiki said, smirking at the surprised girl.

“Kukukuku,” Cologne laughed, having spotted the girl long before she had even gotten into the room. “How amusing to see some outsider just sneak up on you with a basic hunting technique.”

“Silent like the forest,” Nabiki said with a wink, twirling her fingers before turning to Shampoo. “Good morning, Aibo. Nice to see you warmed up.”

“Good morning, Anego.” Shampoo said, smiling to her friend as she stopped her training. “Shampoo see you like dress.”

“It’s nice, and a lot less restrictive than a gi.” Nabiki said, posing a bit in the dress as Har continued to stare dumbfounded at the middle Tendo. “Besides, I figured I’d match the training grounds.”

“More like Kasumi and Ranma no let train in dress at home.” Shampoo said, drawing an embarrassed blush from Nabiki, and another laugh from Cologne.

“Ever the comedienne aren’t you?” Cologne said, before she hopped off towards the back. “Allow me to show you to your training grounds for today.”

“How the hell did she do that?” Har asked the empty room.

Only silence greeted her.

- - -

Akane trained like mad in the dojo, wondering where Nabiki went this morning. Since it was Sunday, there was no school today, but Kasumi said Nabiki had left before breakfast. Her lazy sister, getting up early? It was enough to make her want to faint.

Bad enough that Ranma was too busy sparring with both fathers to ready them for the first classes of the dojo in quite a while, but she had quietly been left out of said spar. Even with Nabiki gone, Ranma couldn’t bring himself to spend time with his rightful fiancée. It was almost like he didn’t want Nabiki to think he was cheating on her with her sister.

It was probably why the dummy had a hairdo more like Nabiki’s than Ranma’s.

He was hers, love and all other confusing emotions be damned! Nabiki pushed him on her, she had dropped her chance to claim him. It was just like her cold and unfeeling sister to try and get the maximum amount of hurt out of this.

There was no way she’d watch Nabiki ruin Ranma. Spoil the only boy that was truly worth a damn anymore. Why couldn’t she just step aside and let Akane have what was rightfully hers? Why did she have to continue to mess up everything for her own gain and amusement?

Unbidden, tears pounded on the floor as she pounded the dummy.

It wasn’t fair, to have her immoral sibling as competition. She wouldn’t compete with honor, or even on the level of a woman. Her underhanded and dirty tricks would give her all the advantage she’d need to sink her claws into that perfect flesh.

Another sob, followed by a splintering crash as the dummy stand shattered under the force of the blow. Oh how like fate to give her hope of the perfect boy, only to deny her the chance to love him as only she could. She could see it all, the using, abusing, and the cold husk that would be left of Ranma.

Her sobs increased, and yet no one came.

Where was her father, the one who fought away all the monsters under her bed? Where was Kasumi, the motherly sister who made everything ok again just by existing? Where was Ranma, the boy who had wrenched her into this emotionally vulnerable world without warning?

Alone, she was alone. By her own negligence, she allowed Nabiki to set up her schemes, start laying the traps for him. She stood by as Ranma walked like an entranced sailor to Nabiki’s siren song. Stood by as he got closer, oh so closer, to that maw that would devour him.

Tears slowed as anger burned through her, the tiny black part of her soul feeding on this naked hatred.

Roaring, she pounced on the dummy and began pummeling it. She imagined it was a myriad of things, all grotesque and disgusting. Blows rained down as the tears rampaged back to life.

Here she was, crying her eyes out over a boy who didn’t even understand the damage he had done to her. He was outside, oblivious to the tears that were cause by his mere existence. Nabiki would shed no tears, would never feel this level of pain.

“Why?” she whispered, shaking the remains of the dummy. “Why, Nabiki, WHY?!”

“Why am I all alone, crying while you continue to coast through the world unblemished by the taint of sorrow? Why do you get to keep your heart guarded from life’s pain while mine is trampled?”

She sniffled, before she settled into a seated position, knees up to her chin. Slowly, she rocked back and forth.

“What did I do to you for you to hurt me as deeply as you have?”

Her head buried itself against her knees.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

- - -

Ranma stood across the yard from Soun and Genma. He was finally getting a chance to see the Tendo branch in action. His anticipation was palpable, his blood singing against his veins as he waited for the spar to begin.

He was all but chomping at the bit for this. He hadn’t even gotten a glimpse at Soun’s true skills, hadn’t even the slightest peek at them. Now, here it was, the chance to learn of his school’s sister branch’s strength.

And now, more than ever, he was ready.

They all rushed at one another at the unspoken signal, a three way battle erupting in the early Sunday morning. Punches flew, kicks snapped, and the air sang of a battle of respect and honor. There’d be no cheap shots, no underhanded moves, just the art on display for all eyes to see.

It was more of a dance, weaving about the yard with grace. Feints within feints played out across the grass covered stage, amazing blocks thrown at just the right time. After a few minutes, the three broke apart and stared the others down.

Pure, unadulterated, joy of three people displaying their greatest passion.

Again, they rushed at each other. The blows flew and mingled together in a strange kind of symphony. Grins plastered the faces of the fighters as they continued to battle it out.

- - -

Nabiki stood across from Shampoo, her hands grasping at the heavy sticks that Cologne had given her. They were, in Cologne’s words, meant to teach her how to use heavy weapons in each hands. After all, she had no training in using bonbori like Shampoo, who wanted to train with and without weapons.

Though they were unfamiliar, Nabiki would use them without fail. She knew Ranma would adapt to any new wrinkle put in front of him, and so too would she. Experimentally, she swung them, unconsciously mimicking taiko drumming.

Cologne smiled as she watched the ex-groom’s helper slowly adapt to the sticks.

Shampoo was far, far better than Nabiki, there was no way around it. But this wasn’t competition, this was training to make Nabiki stronger. While she held no illusions her kin would win with ease, she expected a decent showing from this girl.

This girl, the child of that martial artist she had met in the forest. No doubt, she had learned that sneaking trick from her father, who had used the same technique to mask himself. The family interested her, far beyond their connection to the ex-groom, but on a curiosity that she couldn’t quell.

Where had they picked up such a peculiar style?

“Ready, Aibo?” Nabiki said, raising the sticks. “I’m attacking first.”

“Come with it, Anego,” Shampoo said, affecting a defensive pose.

“Toh!” Nabiki called, coming in with a vertical downswing of her right stick, flowing into a left thrust when Shampoo dodged.

“Hah!” Shampoo grunted, brushing aside the thrust.

Like water, Nabiki flowed into a dazzling combination of swings and swats. Like smoke, Shampoo flitted away from each attack, before blocking the last. With a grunt, Shampoo easily pushed Nabiki back. Pressing her advantage, she charged forward with a sweeping series of swings and thrusts, each just missing Nabiki.

Shampoo obviously wasn’t trying to hit Nabiki, but she wasn’t going to allow the other girl a single hit. In this primitive world, Shampoo stood at the top as a savage queen, snarling at all who sought to take her crown. All of Nabiki’s efforts were squandered as Shampoo efficiently blocked and avoided every strike. Eventually the sticks finally shattered from the strain put on them, leaving kindling in the neophyte’s hands.

In her element, in this world, Shampoo wouldn’t lose to anyone, save he who would claim her as his.

“Whew, not bad Aibo.” Nabiki said, dancing lightly from foot to foot as she loosened herself up. “Ready for the next part?”

“As ever, Anego.” Shampoo answered, an even look on her face.

Once more, Nabiki lead off, throwing a graceful right roundhouse. Again, Shampoo denied her the satisfaction of a hit. Nabiki flowed like water once more, pressing the self-exiled Amazon back momentarily. But again, Shampoo fell into that world, and imperiously denied Nabiki again.

Back and forth they danced, Nabiki frantically throwing herself away from Shampoo’s calm swings, while her frantic attacks met air. No matter the feint, it would never hit. This was the strength of the Amazon genius, one that would never be surpassed by hard work alone.

Gifted though she may seem, Nabiki simply wasn’t even on the same plane as Shampoo.

Effortlessly, Shampoo pressed Nabiki, trapping her in her routines, tapping her vulnerable spots. Methodically, as though her eyes could see the future itself, she countered everything Nabiki could do before she could do it. Feints were useless, trapping impossible, and victory dangled from the highest point.

The mountain that was Shampoo was unassailable. No mere girl, training for no more than a handful of weeks could hope to find a foothold. Among the Amazons, she was called the perfect fighter, cold, ruthless, a living, breathing fortress. Her punches were likened to the blow from a flail, her kicks to arrows. Her bonbori, like ballistae.

On this early Sunday morning, Nabiki stared into the cold eyes of the fortress, stared into defeat itself.

“Ah well… I yield.” Nabiki said, with false disappointment. Shampoo had devoted her whole life to this stuff, she couldn’t compete with her just off a few pointers from Ranma.

“Not worry, Anego.” Shampoo said, her voice regaining its humanity. “You do well not getting frustrated. Shampoo is too-too strong, Anego too-too wise.”

“Unlike other people we know,” Cologne muttered, nodding appreciatively at the efforts of the middle Tendo.

“It was a great workout, no matter what.” Nabiki said, stretching a bit. “Hey, I got an hour to kill, how about I help out around here for a while?”

“That would be fine, my dear.” Cologne answered, internally smiling maniacally. ‘Manual labor get!’

- - -

“Whew,” Ranma said from his back. “That was one hell of a spar.”

“Indeed, my boy, indeed.” Genma intoned, nodding his head briskly from his back.

“I think, I’ll be ready for that class.” Soun said, breathing heavy from his back.

“Yeah…” Ranma said, staring up at the blue sky above. “Ah… it’s so blue.”

“It’s calming in a way.” Genma added, putting his hands behind his head.

“Hey, that cloud looks familiar.” Soun said, pointing at an odd-shaped cloud.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Ranma asked, trying to think about it.

“I think it’s a melon.” Genma said, shrugging his shoulders.

“No way Saotome, it’s definitely a pizza.” Soun said, looking over at his friend with more than a little hostility in his voice.

“Want to make something of it Tendo?” Genma said, suddenly shooting to his knees, Soun following his move.

“Oh brother,” Ranma grumbled, springing to his feet and walking away.

“You’re wrong Tendo!” Genma growled, grabbing Soun by the front of his gi.

“No, it’s you who is wrong, Saotome!” Soun yelled, grabbing Genma by the front of his gi.

“Oh my,” Kasumi said, coming out of the house and over to the scuffling men, “what are you fighting about?”

“Kasumi, dear,” Soun said, shoving Genma. “Do you know what that is?” He pointed at the odd-shaped cloud.

“Of course Daddy.” she said, a smile creasing her face.

“And that is?” Genma asked, shoving Soun back.

“A cloud of course.” she answered, smiling brightly.

Predictably, the two men face faulted.

- - -

Nabiki entered Ucchan’s with Shampoo in tow. The ex-Amazon was given the day off so the old ghoul could torment Haircare some more. While Nabiki couldn’t understand the old woman’s desire to torment the airhead, she wasn’t going to argue with her.

Ukyo took note of the two people who came in, newcomers by her memory. Something about them spiked her interest, but she wasn’t going to waste her time thinking of it. Up went the façade, and she was ready for them.

“Hello, welcome to Ucchan’s!” she drawled with a syrupy cheer. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two specials please.” Nabiki said, Shampoo having whispered her order to Nabiki before she ordered. “That’s one for each of us.” She placed the required amount of yen on the counter.

“I know, sugar, this isn’t my first time taking such an order.” Ukyo answered, rolling her eyes. Before Nabiki could protest, Ukyo exploded into action. Her movements were measured with the mark of experience, her grace belied her down-to-Earth charm. By the time the okonomiyaki was served, both Nabiki and Shampoo knew beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Kuonji Ukyo, number 1 okonomiyaki chef in Japan.

“Wow that is really good.” Nabiki said, nodding her head as she digested the flavors.

“Aiyah… so delicious.” Shampoo agreed, eyes closing as she savored the okonomiyaki.

“Why thank you.” Ukyo said, pride shining through.

“I got to tell the others about this,” Nabiki said, finishing her okonomiyaki. “I’m sure they’ll go crazy about it.” Shampoo finished hers as well.

“I hope you do spread the word, as I want people to experience the best okonomiyaki in Japan.” Ukyo said, turning away from the two.

“Shampoo wonder if Ranma like this.” Shampoo whispered to Nabiki, as the two left the shop.

“Of course he will, Ranma loves food.” Nabiki answered, being quiet as she didn’t quite like Ukyo’s attitude.

- - -

There was no more putting it off. No more time to squander waiting for Nabiki to come clean. It was time for Akane to set things straight, time to put right what had went so horridly wrong.

She sighed, sitting quietly in her room. Nabiki had yet to return from wherever she had went, which gave Akane all the more time to steel herself for the coming confrontation. Her sister, with her serpentine tongue, would be no easy foe to conquer. She was a foe not of fists, but of words, of cunning lies and subtle manipulations.

Blood marked them sisters, honor marked them strangers.

Nabiki skated through life, using people without thought or care for how they might feel. There was nothing sacred to Nabiki, she who would be willing to sell Kami-sama Himself out for a few yen. Family honor forced her to swallow her demonic sibling’s antics, forced her to look away as Nabiki took from everyone else.

The limits of human decency were stretched and skirted by her sister, whose lust for money rivaled the perversity of Kuno. She sighed, shaking her head clear of the nasty thoughts circling through her mind, knowing that such pettiness would only allow her to escape from the truth. There would be no escape, no more meddling, only the truth.

Ranma was hers, and Nabiki would just have to live with it.

- - -

With a sigh, Nabiki walked through the front gate with Shampoo in tow. She was still restless even after a morning of activity. There was something prickling on the edge of her mind, a portent of ill will directed at her by someone.

Nabiki didn’t care at the moment, as she was looking forward to talking to Ranma. Her friend had been helpful in bringing her back down from the icy depths she had frozen herself in. For the longest time, she used people without a care, because they weren’t real to her. They couldn’t hurt, because they were simply obstacles life had thrown at her. No remorse, no mercy, just an icy smirk and a cold humor.

But Ranma had thawed her out, showed her how real the world around her was.

Only now did she realize the pain, the suffering she had inflicted over the years on all around her. Without care, she had dumped Kuno onto Akane, dumped Ranma on her sister as well. Akane was tough, she told herself, besides, she loved the attention anyways.

If only it were that simple, that plain. The pain that had surfaced on the day Akane’s crush on Doctor Tofu fizzled was eye opening. For the first time, perhaps since her mother died, she felt real honest remorse for her actions. It lasted for all of a second, maybe two, before it too froze in the ice.

She, The Ice Queen, couldn’t have any weakness right?

And so, she continued to coast along, until that night happened, that night which wrenched her eyes opened. The effects were minor at first, but slowly they started to surface. The ice had always shut out the whispers, the hate, the anger, but she was left naked without her ultimate armor. Alone she had sat under that tree on the hill, that place that had been her haven when she was little.

For the first time, Nabiki felt truly small and insignificant. That feeling of utter despair had hit her hard, leaving her raw and open. What the hell was she doing, crying like a child begging for its mother, she who was above such human meagerness? She who stared down imperiously from her icy throne and mocked those who she saw as prey and nothing more.

She who traded away her humanity for a tidy sum and an endless hunger for money.

The ruthless crusher of dreams was reduced to a sobbing mass as ten years of bottled emotions poured out in a thunderous torrent. Each sob was met with a scornful laugh, the laugh of everyone who had ever been reduced to tears by Nabiki’s heartless actions. This pain, this hurt long buried, threatened to crush her under a tidal wave of misery.

At first, she never noticed his approach, nor did she noticed his presence. Looming over her, silently watching her with passive eyes, was Ranma. Impassive, unmoving, like a statute, he simply stared down at the sobbing girl in front of him. By the time she noticed him, it was too late for her to recover, too late for her to make up some excuse to send him away.

Eyes brimmed with tears, she turned away from him in shame.

“Why…?” came his soft whisper, not registering much of a reaction from Nabiki.

“Why… hic what, Sao hic tome?” she asked, trying to stop her crying.

“Why are crying?” he asked, causing her to try and wipe away the tears.

“I-I’m not crying…” she said, a fake smile on her face, delicate and fragile. The mask of ruthless ice had been reduced to cracked porcelain.

“Is that why your eyes are red?” he asked, causing her smile to fade as a meek expression slowly sunk onto her face.

“I.. I… what are you doing here Saotome?” she said, not understanding his presence here.

“I saw you run away from school, so I followed you to make sure you were ok.” he said, with a shrug.

“That’s all?” she whispered, disbelief frank in her voice.

“Why else?” he asked, shrugging again.

“Heh, heh,” she giggled, before she dissolved into a full blown gale of laughter. Ranma for his part stood there not knowing what the hell was going on.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, scratching his head.

“Just the realization that I kept believing that everyone else was just like me.” she answered, looking up at the sky, a light breeze blowing her hair which only served to mess it up more.

“Ah…” he answered, studying her out of the corner of his eye as he too looked up at the sky. “The sky is so blue…”

“Mmmm…” she hummed, staring at the lazy clouds floating by. “It’s rather nice out today.”

“Yeah,” he said, before he smiled, closing his eyes. “When I feel sad, I like to come out on to hills or even rooftops and stare at the sky. It’s rather relaxing.”

“That’s a good idea,” she said, craning her head to the right and covertly looking over at him. “I might have to do that some time.”

“Maybe I could join you on those times,” he said, before hastily adding, “so you won’t feel lonely or nothin' like that.”

‘If he had half a brain, he could be a real charmer,’ she thought, a pleasant feeling despite the addendum made by Ranma. “Sounds like a good idea, Saotome.”

“Uh-huh.” he said, bobbing his head a bit in agreement.

“So... wanna be friends?” she asked, with a shy smile.

“Friends eh?” he said, pretending to mull it over. “Only if you promise to call me Ranma when we’re not at school.”

“Deal,” she said, extending her hand. “And you can call me Nabiki when we’re not at school.”

Almost shyly, Ranma reached out and shook Nabiki’s hand, a broad smile on his face. For the short moment the contact lasted, Nabiki savored his touch. With the wind stirring the stray blossoms into the air around them, the connection was made.

On this hill of promise, Nabiki’s heart had been saved. The memory still made Nabiki smile, as she rested her back against one of the pillars of the porch. Idly she waved Shampoo on into the house, just enjoying the feel of the breeze on her skin. A friendship made that short time ago had been strengthened through the trial Ranma had endured at the hands of Cologne. Nabiki shivered, still remembering that look, that look she continued to see in her dreams. What these dreams signified, Nabiki did not know, and for now, she was content with that.

For what we dream of in the heart, are the grandest dreams of all.

- - -

Akane sat by her door, waiting on the proverbial Godot as her resolve strengthened. Today, she would put Nabiki behind her as a challenger for Ranma. There was no more to this confrontation than that, just a simple straightening out.

While she was technically the younger sister, Akane often believed herself to be more mature than Nabiki. Her older sister was a notorious prankster, a mischievous girl who behaved more like a fourteen year old than a seventeen year old. Nabiki’s behavior often proved to Akane that one’s age did not show one’s maturity.

Of course, she was so zoned in on Nabiki’s shortcomings she completely blanked out her own childish spats with Ranma.

The sound of Nabiki’s door opening and closing brought Akane from her contemplations. It was showtime, time for Akane to set the record straight on everything and stop this little competition before Nabiki got hurt. After all, what did her callous older sister have to appeal to Ranma?

Akane stepped out into the hallway before turning and knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Nabiki called, who was in the middle of changing out of that Chinese dress.

“Nabiki, it’s me.” Akane said, her hand starting to turn the knob.

“Hey, hold it Akane, I’m changing in here.” Nabiki called, down to her bra and panties at this point.

“...We’re sisters Nabiki, we used to bath nude together when we were kids.” Akane said crossly at the door.

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Nabiki snapped back, leafing through her clothes and throwing on a t-shirt.

“I’m coming in whether you want me to or not.” Akane said, grabbing the door knob again.

“You do and Kuno gets a lingerie calendar of you for all twelve months.” Nabiki yelled back, still debating on jeans or shorts.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Akane hissed back, trying to burn a hole through the door.

“Do I barge into your room uninvited?” Nabiki asked, slipping on a pair of jeans.

“No, but it shouldn’t be an issue.” Akane answered, grumbling under her breath.

“So I can come into your room whenever I want?” Nabiki asked, now seated on the bed.

“What, NO!?” Akane shouted.

“Okay then, I expect you to listen when I say to wait.” Nabiki said, before she got up and unlocked the door. “Come in.”

“Oh thank you, your majesty.” Akane sniped with impressive venom. She opened the door and stopped just on the threshold. “Why were you really trying to keep me out?” Suspicion laced her voice.

“I didn’t want you breaking my door.” Nabiki answered shrugging her shoulders as she went back towards her bed.

“Why would I break your door?” Akane asked, puzzled now.

“It was locked.” Nabiki said simply.

Akane had to clutch the doorframe to keep from face faulting.

- - -

Ranma tried to ignore the ill feeling he was having as he watched Soun conduct his first class of the day. Here was a master, sharing his life’s devotion to strangers so that they may know its joy. He smiled as he watched them warm up.

Part of him saw himself standing in front of the class instead of the Tendo patriarch. One day, he’d be spreading the art too, just as Soun was now. One day, he’d have a family all his own, and hopefully a son to raise to be a strong man. He closed his eyes, daydreams over taking him.

If only he could decide on who to marry, maybe he could start making them come true.

- - -

“Nabiki…” Akane said still by her older sister’s door, having fully recovered from her near flop. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” Nabiki asked, feigning ignorance. “About what?”

“About Ranma… and your sudden “interest” in him.” the younger sister said, her features hardening as her older sister started playing games.

“Oh, THAT.” the older sister responded, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “I was wondering when you’d get the backbone to speak up.”

“Excuse me?” Akane said archly, crossing her arms and glaring at her sister.

“Come in and shut the door. It’s high time we have a sisterly chat about things.” Nabiki commanded tersely, sighing internally as Akane bristled at the command. ‘She hates boys my foot.’

“Oh yes, sister dear, we’re going to chat about this.” Akane said darkly as Nabiki sat on her bed.

“Here,” Nabiki said, lazily kicking her desk chair out for Akane. “Sit down, or get out.”

“Don’t give me that put upon attitude.” Akane snapped, sitting down while glowering at her sister.

“I’ll have whatever attitude I want in my own room, little sister.” Nabiki snapped back, emphasizing little.

“Oh please, it’s only a year between you and me. Don’t act like you’re Kasumi.” Akane answered, eyes narrowing close to be shut.

“Like I was referring to age,” Nabiki laughed, eyes rolling.

“Grr... I get enough jokes about my chest from Ranma, I don’t need them from you.” Akane said, clenching her fists. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she needed to calm down. Breath, and focus.

“And again, you miss,” Nabiki said, shaking her head regally.

“Oh har har,” Akane said, sarcasm evident in her laugh. “A joke about my temper, how cute.”

“I thought it was funny.” Nabiki said, smirking just a little.

“You would.” Akane groused, shaking her head.

“Ahem, I believe we have more important things to talk about.” Nabiki said, clearing her throat.

“Yes… Ranma.” Akane said, focusing herself.

“He has been the center of attention, hasn’t he?” Nabiki asked wryly.

“Yeah.” Akane said, staring a hole through Nabiki. “You need to stop, Nabiki.”

“Stop what?” Nabiki asked, not remembering if she had any scheme running at the moment.

“Whatever scheme you’re planning to spring on Ranma.” Akane said, hands clenching into fists momentarily. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my fiancé alone.”

“YOUR fiancé? Did he decide that for himself?” Nabiki asked, face nonplussed by Akane’s declaration.

“He’s been mine since you and Kasumi decided to dump him on me on his arrival.” Akane reminded her sister, pressing any advantage she could get.

“Yeah, but then Daddy overrode that decision, opening the field up again.” Nabiki pointed out, shaking her head. “I suppose I was supposed to go, ‘gee golly gosh Akane, I’m sorry for whatever misdeed I may have done. Please forgive me and love me as a sister once again, for I cannot bear to be parted from the blazing light that is you.’ ” Her lips formed a straight line, eyes glimmering with mockery.

“Tch, that’s just like you to be childish.” Akane snorted, eyes brimmed with disgust. “I come here to end this charade you’ve put up, and all you do is act like you’re the one who’s been wronged.”

“What charade are you talking about? You mean the whole ‘charade’ where I’ve tried to be friends with Ranma?” Nabiki demanded, shooting to her feet. “I knew you were over competitive but this is nuts even by Kuno’s standard.”

“Oh sure, like you’d just go from selling pictures of Ranma’s girl form to anything with enough yen over night.” Akane shot back, on her feet now. “Even you know the word friendship means nothing to you. So quit pretending already, you’re making me sick and you‘re upsetting Ranma.”

“I make you sick by trying to mend my ‘horrid’ ways?” Nabiki asked, her voice raising in volume. “I make you sick because I don’t just continue to live in the perception that you believe I should stay in? You’re real piece of work, Akane.”

“At least I’m not trying to take something that isn’t mine.” Akane snapped, hands balling into fists again.

“So Ranma’s just a thing now is he? Just an object for you to claim eminent domain over?” Nabiki shouted, getting into Akane’s face. “I make you sick? That’s fine, because I.HATE.YOU.”

Akane rocked back towards the door from that proclamation, her argument dying on her lips.

“I hate the way you dress, the way you eat, the way sigh in your put upon manner like the world isn’t good enough for you.” Nabiki screamed, advancing with each proclamation. “I hate the way you cry over things like Kuno and the horde, and yet go back for more from them. I hate the way you place yourself on a pedestal you don’t deserve to be on. And I especially hate the way you act put upon by my attempts to strike a legitimate friendship with the man I may have to marry someday.”

“N-Nabiki…” Akane stuttered out, trying to grasp some shred of anger to fight back against the juggernaut assault of her older sister.

“I hate you, and everything you stand for. I hate you for every simple minded thought that’s dancing through that empty head of yours.” Nabiki hollered, shoving Akane back against the door. “I hate you for your unbearable attention whoring, your condescending attitude and that stupid ‘pervert’ bullshit!”

“W-why?” Akane choked out, eyes beginning to water with tears.

“Cut the crocodile tears, Akane. You’re sixteen, the days when you could bawl and have everyone pat you on the head are over.” Nabiki snarled, anger spiraling out of control as she sought to crush her sister completely.

“Why do you hate me? Aren’t we sisters?!” Akane cried, flat against the door now.

“Oh, now we’re sisters?!” Nabiki said, spitting the words. “Funny how when you’re cutting me down, it’s perfectly fine for you to tell me I make you sick, but when it’s not all roses for Akane, it’s not fair.”

“…” Akane’s face could only sour like she just drank spoiled milk.

“I make you sick is a sign of sisterly love now?” Nabiki asked, shoving Akane again. “After all, if saying “I hate you” is wrong, then “I make you sick” must be right.”

“You’ve made your point.” Akane muttered sullenly. Quickly, she spun around and opened the door.

“Running away huh?” Nabiki asked smugly. “After all, if the great Akane fails to stop the wicked Nabiki from doing unspeakable horrors to the defenseless Ranma, then surely the day has been lost. That’s what was hilarious about you Akane, you crowed the longest when you won, and ran the fastest when you lost.”

“Just shut up.” Akane said, her spirit draining as Nabiki continued to gouge away.

“Shut up? SHUT UP?!” Nabiki scoffed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “Hah! You come into my room, accuse me of some scheme against Ranma, proclaim I make you sick and the instant I turn it around, I have to shut up. That’s a great double standard there, little sister.”

“Nabiki… just shut up would you?” Akane said quietly, as if she were being quiet to prevent other people from hearing her.

“Oh no, it’s time for immature Akane’s special technique: be quiet and let Nabiki get into trouble with Daddy. How lovely of you to dust it off for this occasion.” Nabiki said dismissively.

“Grr…” Akane snarled, taking a step forward and bring her hand around to slap her taunting sister.

‘Heh, not even that will work, Akane.’ Nabiki thought derisively. She quickly uncrossed her arms and blocked the slap, coming back in with one of her own.

“Ow!” Akane said, rubbing her cheek.

“Well, talking doesn’t work, so now I guess you’ll beat me up until I see things your way right?” Nabiki asked, smirking for all her worth.

“Hmph.” Akane snorted, before she quickly snatched her sister up by the shirt. “I doubt that’ll work, but I know I’ll feel better.”

“Too bad it won’t be that easy, Akane.” Nabiki said simply, grabbing her sister’s wrists and forcing her fully out into the hallway. “I want you to listen to me Akane, because this is important. You asked me why I hated you, and it’s stupid when I think of it. It’s base jealousy from when we were little.”

“What?” Akane grumbled, grappling with her sister.

“It’s the fate of every older sibling to hate their younger sibling on some level, because that sibling took away the specialness that you had before they were born.” Nabiki intoned, pushing Akane to the ground. “I was the youngest, and now all I am is the middle child. I’m not the oldest, so I’m not the most important, I’m not the youngest, so I’m not the most favored.”

“For that, you hate me?” Akane growled, rolling Nabiki over and trying to pin her to the floor.

“I don’t hate you in the enemy sense, but I hate you on a level that’s buried deep within me.” Nabiki said, an uncaring look on her face. “Blood promotes a sense of love and fealty, pride breeds jealousy and resent. You know what I’m saying is true. How much do I get away with because we’re sisters?”

“A lot,” Akane admitted, pinning Nabiki down enough to rear back for a punch. “If there was some girl spreading pictures of me around, I’d probably pound her face into the dirt.”

“But there are some things that blood can’t excuse eh?” Nabiki asked, no fear showing in her eyes as she knew what was coming next.

“That’s right, and this is one of them.” Akane said, starting to swing before her punch was halted. “What the…?!”

“Akane… stop.” Ranma said quietly, staring down at her with eyes filled with a strong emotion.

“Ranma? Why?!” Akane demanded, struggling to get free. “What is it that she’s got on you that makes you save her now?”

“My… friendship.” he answered slowly, pausing ever so slightly. Without a second thought, he pulled Akane off Nabiki. “You alright, Nabiki?”

“I’m fine,” Nabiki said, nodding her thanks as he helped her up.

“I don’t care what you two were fighting over, but there’s no excuse for the two of you to come to blows like this.” Ranma said flatly, tone brooking no argument. “Our fathers, Shampoo and Kasumi are busy out in the dojo, which is why they’re not here. If you both don’t want to get into trouble, bury it here and forget it.”

“There’s no way I’d-” Akane started to protested, before she was interrupted.

“Sure thing Ranma, it was just a silly argument that got out of hand.” Nabiki said easily, resting an easy hand on his shoulder.

‘Why is she..?’ Akane thought in confusion, not even noticing her sister touching Ranma. “It’s not worth getting into trouble over.” She started to skulk over to her room.

“Akane, be glad I came.” Ranma said evenly, his voice soothing. “If it had been Shampoo, you’d be on your way to the hospital to get your jaw fixed.”

‘That’s right, I forgot about her new crime partnership with Shampoo.’ Akane thought, not looking back at the two. ‘And that’s where she went this morning. No doubt to extend her circle.’

“Aibo probably would have punched first and asked questions second.” Nabiki agreed, nodding her head along.

“Whatever,” Akane muttered, storming into her room.

“Whew,” Nabiki said, breathing a sigh of relief. “That was tougher than I thought.”

“What happened?” Ranma asked, purposely guiding Nabiki downstairs and away from her sister.

“She came into my room and accused me of having some kind of scheme involving you somehow.” Nabiki answered, deciding that lying wouldn’t help her here. “If I read between the lines, she’s actually saying I’m stealing you from her.”

“So what, I’m a loaned hairbrush that wasn’t returned on time now?” Ranma asked, using an analogy Kasumi had once used to try and describe the relationship between the younger two Tendo sisters.

“To her? Maybe. But for right now, you’re my friend.” Nabiki said, coming to the bottom of the stairs before she turned fully to him. “Later? I have no clue. What I feel for you is… complex. Is it enough to decide if I want to marry you? Not right now.” As she finished, she embraced Ranma, pouring affection into the hug.

“Mmmm…” Ranma replied, very slightly hugging back. ‘And maybe… I feel that way about you too.’ His eyes filled with that emotion again, the same as that day when he had stared at her then.

‘I… I think I recognize that emotion.’ Nabiki thought, trying to puzzle it out internally. ‘Could it be… love? Nah, that’s just wishful thinking.’

‘Warm…’ Ranma thought faintly, a smile creasing his face. ‘It feels so warm…’

Quietly, the two held each for a while, two hearts trying to communicate and find out if it really is love…

End Chapter 18

Teaser for Chapter 19:

“So how’s it going, Saotome?” Nabiki asked as the pigtailed boy as he approached her at lunch.

“Not much Tendo-san,” Ranma answered as he sat down at Nabiki’s table. “Just trying to get through the day.”

“How’s Akane doing?” she asked, trying to pretend like she wasn’t interested in the answer.

“Oh, she was moody today, a bit grumpy too.” he said, ticking off on his fingers. “She even got sent to the hall for snapping at our English teacher.”

“I see,” she said, humming a bit at her sister’s behavior. “Well, at least she isn’t taking it out on you.”

“That’s what’s weird about it.” he said, shaking his head. “It’s almost like she’s fighting herself about that.”

“Better than her fighting you, right?” she said, a friendly smile on her face.

“Maybe…” he said, looking up at the sky.

Author notes: Well, it’s over. The big confrontation has gone down, and well, it’s a bitch contest between the two Tendos contesting for Ranma. I think I balanced it out, showing both sisters in a bad light here. I don’t care if you agree, and if you don’t, don’t bother telling me. This isn’t YOUR story, it’s mine, and I’ll tell it how I please. Later.