The Onikami Files

Chapter 4

Discovering Yourself Part 2

Disclaimer: I don’t own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

He fought hard not to cry out, to scream in pain, as his body convulsed on the bed he had once slept in. Of course, sleep wasn’t possible anymore for him, not in the condition his body was in. It felt like his body was trying to explode, to vent some force he was barely controlling at the moment.

It had been like that for the last few nights, his ki levels quickly approaching the unseen barrier between what he could safely control and that which would slowly kill him. He had worked so hard this last month, even harder when he saw the message left behind by the young Princess Parvati IV. It didn’t seem like much; but it was all he could think of doing, work hard to make his struggle worth something.

He panted heavily as the wave of pain passed. They were coming more frequently now, making sleep all but a useless attempt for him. He was tired, sore, and felt like banging his head against a wall if only to put him out of his misery for a little while.

Yet he would not, could not, complain to Rouou or the others, even struggled to show no pain during the training session. To be fair though, he would never do that. It would make him seem weaker than he was, but it also provided an outlet for him to throw out that extra power in a controlled manner. He couldn’t even count the number of times he sent his ki shooting into the landscape or even towards the heavens. It had been fascinating when he saw that his ki attack did not fall back to the earth, but went soaring into space.

He really hoped some of those ki balls didn’t come back down. He didn’t want a destroyed city on his conscience.

He wouldn’t beg for their help, beg them to give him the cure once again. Those pleas had stopped when he had witnessed the destruction on Seichi. It was a bit of a wake-up call to see that, to truly know what was at stake, what he was hoping to achieve. From what the Old Man had said, he could be only one of two lines of defense against the return of the destroyer of the Sanjiyan Unkara.

Such an event could shake the very core of any person, and Ranma was still a person, despite the amazing abilities he possessed. He saw the pain in the little Sanjiyan Unkara’s eyes, the hope that her final message would be heeded.

He couldn’t heed it, that much was certain to even him. Kaiyanwang was all too real a threat to his world, a threat that was coming back. Shiva’s Wu was still out there, and despite the fact that the Old Man had only hinted about things, even Ranma could see something was coming up.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to help.

He tensed up again as the pain lashed into him once more, the bed frame cracking as he held onto it, for fear he would rip into his own palms once again with his nails. It didn’t look well for him, he’d admit that now. The pain was coming too often now, too quickly for him to try and burn off the excess energy. His ki levels were rebounding too quickly, faster than he could hope to deplete them.

In any other circumstance, he’d consider it a blessing. Now, it was pure hell.

As the pain disappeared, a strange calm washed over him. This was it, the moment he was warned about.

They say when you know death is certain, when your time is about to occur, you find a certain calmness, a clarity with which to observe everything. You watch your life, ascertaining your weaknesses, your strengths. You know what is happening, what happened, and what awaits you. You feel no fear, no anything, for just that moment, you simply are.

So this is all I am, this and no more. I can’t go further, get stronger, I can’t try and make up for the things I goofed up, the people I hurt.

A small tear escaped his eye at that point, thinking of those he was about to leave behind. Was he really like that? Could people have seen him as some … joke?

“Not much time now, child,” said Rouou, as he entered the room. “No training today; you want a last meal?”

Ranma slowly looked towards the brother of Happosai. It was hard to imagine the twin so opposite of the Old Letch Ranma knew and halfway despised. For a moment, he wondered what had caused the two to be so different, where had one become a complete pervert and the other a good man.

He chuckled lightly a bit, enjoying the breather as he waited for the next moment of searing pain to strike. How many people said he would likely die in some common fight, or be taken out by some mundane reason, or even be killed by some exotic poison delivered by the newest fiancée/rival.

Ranma didn’t lose, and he beat their expectations; not by the way he was hoping—old age after being declared the best martial artist in the world for over a century. But he was going to die not in some great battle, not due to some very questionable cooking, and not due to some cracked love interest. No, he was going to die because of his damned Jusenkyo curse and it forcing his ki levels to compete and overload him.

He blinked at that thought, before nearly biting his tongue when the pain returned. Trying to hold a thought when it felt like your body was going to explode was a difficult thing to do, even if you had endured similar pain for a while now. But he needed to hold this one.

As the pain lessened, he turned quickly to Rouou, seeing the man’s usually smiling face looking on his own with sadness. He wasn’t about to beg for help, beg to have the damned ceremony or whatnot to become a Sanjiyan Unkara. No, he had tried his best, would continue to try no matter how badly he might lose. “Herb,” he called out, his voice hoarse.

“The Musk Prince?” asked Rouou, remembering the boy’s descriptions of her earlier fights.

Ranma nodded lightly. “He’s … he’s cursed like me. Ya … you got to see if you can save him,” Ranma finished, panting from his recent struggles. Herb had higher ki levels than he did. And if he was suffering like this because of his constant battles, how long would the Musk Prince—or was he king, last he heard he was supposed to meet his fiancée when he returned…

Ranma’s eyes began to lose their focus as his mind did, part of him now imagining Herb being chased around whatever passed for a Musk city by an uncute tomboy whose family came from a long line of gorillas.

His laughter was the last thing he heard before he passed out to blissful unconsciousness.

Rouou sighed as the dart did its work, sending the boy into a deep coma. Working quickly, he hit enough pressure points to hopefully allow the boy to vent the excess ki into the environment. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would ease the boy’s pain and give him a few more hours of life.

“So the child finally understands,” he mused, watching a peaceful look return to Ranma’s face. “He sees everything beyond himself for once,” Rouou mused.

It was a great relief to see the boy finally understand. If it was a fluke, well, what could he say. The boy would live for a while longer. And now, he would get the help he had come here for.

That was assuming of course that Saffron’s little project didn’t blow up in their faces. But at least at this scale needed, he probably wouldn’t feel the final blast.

“I wonder if old age is making me suicidal,” he mused, as he opened the door.

“He’s ready,” he said to the two tribe members that had followed him. “Take him to be prepared for the ceremony.”

“Yes sir,” said the duo, as they entered the room.

You are now at the cusp of greatness, child.

Can you prove it is deserved though?

Saffron looked at the beast eggs along the walls, smiling. It was a difficult task to make these, these that survived their long slumber while so many died or went rotten, becoming only token life entities.

He had started this long ago, back when he was still a full Sanjiyan Unkara, trying to determine if a Sanjiyan Unkara could also wield this power like a Wu could.

It was incomplete, even after his old friend had helped him restore old memories. How did they draw upon the infinite life force of a Wu? How did they not effect the Sanjiyan Unkara who was connected to the Wu that summoned them? Could they be bonded to a Sanjiyan Unkara? And if so, would they adversely effect the Sanjiyan Unkara?

“Lord Saffron?”

Looking up, he spied Kiima peeking through the door. “Yes, Kiima?” he asked, trying not to notice the blush that she carried with her.

“Your guest, Rouou, has asked that you return to the main lab. He says the landling Saotome is ready to ascend.”

He could only blink at that. “So the boy showed a talent and a heart beyond the other Sanjiyan Unkara of old,” he mused.

“My Lord?”

“Fear not, Kiima, for it is a joyous time,” he said, standing up.

“Forgive me, my beast eggs, but I must go awaken the first Sanjiyan Unkara to be born for more than a few centuries,” he said. “But with any luck, you all may bond to him, if not his chosen Wu,” he finished.

For a moment, the eggs pulsed together with an energy he was forced to recognize.

“I see,” he said, looking around. “You sense his impending rebirth.”

The pulse happened once more.

“I see,” Saffron mused, looking at the eggs. “It seems my information is not the quickest.”

“Sir?”

“For another time, my Lady,” said Saffron, as he left the chamber. “It appears we have a rebirth party to attend.”

It was odd, to be stuck for the moment between life and death. He hadn’t been here too often, but enough to know that such a place existed.

He could remember first meeting Akane, Nabiki’s first grab of his girl-form’s chest, Kasumi’s first talk to him, Shampoo’s first glomp as she declared marriage, Ukyo’s first blush when he called her cute, Kodachi’s face when he saved her from breaking her neck…

Why could he recall them now? Oh yeah, he was dying now, and dying people knew those sorts of things.

Why was he recalling them all now? Where were the memories of being with his mother?

“You’re gonna be such a manly man, won’t you my little Ranma-kun?”

Why wasn’t he surprised that he recalled that memory from his mother?

“My son, I will always love you, no matter what.”

Mother…

“His pulse is weakening.”

“What shall we do?”

“He must drink and bathe in the White Water.”

“Will he survive, my Lord?”

“I truly don’t know.”

I … I’m dying.

“He’s a couple by himself!”

“Stand ready, foul sorcerer!”

“This is all your fault, Ranma!”

“The Sanjiyan Unkara were a doomed race.”

“Please forget about us!”

“We each must make our own path.”

“Son, I love you.”

Mother… MOTHER!

“He is not long for this world,” said Saffron, removing his hand from the Jusenkyo cursed mans’ forehead.

“So we are not certain if he is too late to be saved,” said Rouou.

Saffron nodded. “We have done all we can at this point. He has passed your tests, grown as strong as he can be made in the time we had, and was both given the White Water and bathed in it. There is nothing more to be done.”

“Except ensure he’s in a shielded room,” muttered Rouou.

“He will not explode,” came the glaring comment from the Phoenix King.

“I didn’t mean that the boy would explode,” said Rouou, even if he was thinking that such a chance did exist considering how well most of Saffron’s first experiments went. “I meant his power might explode outward. I have no desire to be at Ground Zero for such a possibility if the boy’s ki goes to a critical level never seen in my life.”

Saffron had to nod at that. “I found some early research notes on the subject,” he murmured, as he watched the body of his former enemy soak in the White Water. “I think it’ll be more of a pulse when it happens. But my first incarnation did a very thorough job on the spells and wards protecting this valley. It won’t be so much of a force as a wave of energy. If nothing else, it’ll recharge the protections on the valley.”

“Even in death, the boy will protect the world,” mused Rouou.

“But what about those inside the field who are themselves magical or ki-sensitive?” asked the aged man.

Saffron blinked at that, before quickly looking over his notes. Not finding the answers he sought, he walked quickly to a shelf, looking through several ancient scrolls that from Rouou’s point-of-view, appeared to hold the designs for the protections.

Finally finding what he wanted, he returned to the spot he had left before, and looked at his friend. “I have no idea.”

WHAM!

Saffron winced as his old friend face-planted on the ground. “That had to hurt.”

Rouou could only glare at his friend. “You did that on purpose.”

“Perhaps,” waved off the Phoenix. “But the simple fact is that my first incarnation made no acts to shield others from such a thing. He was mainly worried about himself and his experiments, which you know are always kept in protected areas and shielded from stray energy. He never once gave thought to what may happen to others in the valley. Even he didn’t foresee Jusendo becoming what it is now.”

“I see,” Rouou muttered. It also probably explained the ingrained habits of his friend: he had never needed to really focus on safeguards considering that he wasn’t expecting anyone to be hurt by his work. Sadly, that seemed to be a bit too ingrained in the man, considering how often even his successful experiments resulted in explosive forces being released. “I hope for the best out of things now,” he murmured.

“As do I,” said Saffron.

Ranma blinked as he slowly stood up, his mind wondering what had happened. His last thoughts had been filled with pain as he warned the Old Man to help Herb.

“Where am I now?” he asked, seeing not the Phoenix caves he had called home for the last few weeks, but an open field.

“An echo of the past,” came the reply from a familiar high-pitched voice.

Blinking, he spun around, falling into a defensive stance, as he looked for the speaker of that feminine voice.

It was just about what he expected to see, given his usual luck. There before him stood a smirking female figure, deep blue eyes, and seeming to be a split between his female form and his mother. The main things that set her apart from them was the third eye in her forehead.

“Who didn’t see this coming?” he snorted.

“If you are hearing me,” said the redheaded Sanjiyan Unkara, “then you are trying to achieve the powers I once wielded, trying to gain access to a power long lost to your bloodline.”

“Great,” sighed Ranma, “another damned recording.”

“Oh shut it.”

Blinking, he looked up, seeing the glaring form that was starting to remind him a bit too much of his mother when she was upset at him for some reason. “You can hear me?” he asked.

“Of course I can hear you, descendant,” she replied, her glare not changing.

“O…kay,” he muttered. “How? Aren’t you like long dead?”

“A copy of my mindset at the time of conception,” she said. “I doubted my children would inherit my gifts, but I could never be certain.”

“So you weren’t humanized?”

She shook her head. “In the history of my race, despots have always found their way to power at one time or another, chaos in their battles for control allow for those that wish and plan effectively to … disappear, to be thought consumed in the fires of their wars.”

Ranma could only nod at that. “You faked your death.”

“So you can understand,” she said teasing.

“Whatever,” he said. “So basically you’re like Saffron’s rebirth potion, a copy of what he was like when he made it.”

“Yes, I suppose that is a good comparison,” she said as she walked around him. “I left the Seichi and those fools to come to Earth, to live as a human. I wandered about, trying to grow and understand those before me. I found them … at times less savage and at times more so than my fellow Sanjiyan Unkara. But I was fascinated in their short life span; how they thrived in it, enjoyed it.

“Perhaps that was the flaw of my people: they lived too long and became decadent, rather than expanding their horizons.”

“I thought it was because they didn’t stop that potato-leader before it was too late,” Ranma mused.

“Well, there is that,” she admitted.

“So what now?” asked Ranma. “I mean, if you’re inside my head, what does that mean?”

Taking a deep breath, she began. “My purpose is two-fold. On the off-chance that my descendant attains the power of the Sanjiyan Unkara, I am to test them to see if they are worthy.”

“And if not?” he asked, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, much like he got when Akane was cooking.

“I simply melt your brain into a puddle of fried goop,” she replied casually.

“What’s with all these stupid tests?” Ranma yelled out, finally having enough. “Why is it every test either ends with me passing or some horribly painful death?” he finished yelling, panting for breath.

“Are you finished?” the woman asked.

He just glared at her, wondering if it would hurt his chances of passing if he just blasted her right now. “If I said no, would it change anything?”

“Not really.”

“And how do I pass this new test?” he asked. “And it better not end up with me having to take some other test that if I fail, I die a horribly painful death.”

“It is a test of your life, of your soul,” she continued. “I will test your truest intent, to look for a weakness that the darkness within you and others will seek to exploit. Depending on what I find, you may end up being killed, or continue on to achieve the power you seek.”

“I didn’t seek this power,” snorted Ranma.

“Incorrect,” she countered. “You sought this power for control over your curse, for continued existence.”

Ranma just snorted. “So? You make it sound like all I care about is myself.”

“You do not,” she said, continuing to walk around him. “I see some odd ties between you and those in your life, some strong, some weak, and a few that quite frankly confuse me,” she murmured.

Ranma just closed his eyes, trying to keep a headache from growing despite the situation. “You’re worse than the Old Man,” he said.

“And like him I will not be giving you my name,” she said.

“So should I call you Old Woman? OW!”

Energy was still crackling around her hand as she placed he hand back at her side. “Can we not have any comments like that?” she asked with a forced smile.

Ranma just grumbled quietly, but remained silent.

She continued to walk around him, but he wasn’t fooled for a second. She wasn’t observing him; she was looking deeply into him, looking at his entire life. He didn’t know how she was pulling it off, but he knew that she was pulling it off.

“You have a lot of power,” she said in awe.

Ranma just snorted at that.

“Do you find the fact you’ve already accumulated this much power to be funny?”

“Nah,” he said. “I find the fact it shocks ya to be funny. I thought you could see all or some such stuff.”

She could only stop her walking, before she grabbed his head and forced him to look at her, staring deeper into his eyes. He felt … something move around inside his mind, as he tried to pull away from her, wishing that he still had the Nekoken running free in there to fight her out. But Rouou had insisted on dealing with that before they had left Japan.

Ranma still couldn’t recall what the Old Man had done, just that he said the Nekoken had been dealt with and that given time, it would integrate itself into his fighting style. Though how long that would take, he couldn’t say.

It figures that the one time I need the damn thing to keep someone outta my head, it ain’t there!

Sighing, she released his head, her eyes closed. “I see, you’ve had a rough life to gain that power.

“And I will admit that you both used it well and used it foolishly,” she stated.

Ranma just snorted. “I tried my best.”

She nodded, as she resumed walking around him, her eyes once more focusing on him. “Faced your darker nature a few times, kept your sanity in an insane world, and fought powers stronger than you to protect those weaker than you,” she murmured, nodding with a slight smile on her face. “Not perfect, but you are far from corrupted.”

“Thanks!” he said with a smile.

“That was far from a compliment,” she said. “Your ego is still a danger to you, despite the work you have done on it with your new teacher. Your body’s power level is a concern not just in case you lose control, but what it would mean to your Sanjiyan Unkara self should you pass the test.”

“Huh?”

She gave him a lidded stare before she continued. “The path you are walking to open yourself to my legacy is not a tried or tested method. In any case, such would have been thought to be used either for a humanized Sanjiyan Unkara or a regular non-enhanced human. Due to your power level, there may be side effects I am not able to conceive of.”

“Great,” muttered Ranma. “I just had to open my big mouth. I might still blow up.”

Sighing, he began rubbing his forehead. He had written a few letters shortly when the pain of his ki levels began to appear, letters he had never wanted to have sent, but prepared all the same. He left out what he could about the Sanjiyan Unkara, not wanting to risk those Cleaners that Rouou had told him about targeting them. But he had hopefully given them enough that they would be satisfied. Maybe even the Old Man would explain a few things, hopefully keep them from looking too deeply into just why he died.

And with a good bit of luck, they’d be able to help Herb. Since he hopefully didn’t have any Sanjiyan Unkara ancestors, his curse could be fixed relatively easily.

“And there we see your finer points,” said the woman, as she stopped walking around him, a smile growing on her face.

“You’re reading my mind, aren’t you?” he asked exasperated.

She nodded. “The greatest test is not our actions, but our thoughts. With your last conscious breath, you asked Rouou to assist a former enemy who suffers like you. Facing an end, your thoughts are not on what awaits you, but what you leave behind, more importantly the people you leave behind.”

“Well … yeah,” said Ranma, scratching behind his head. “So all you were doing was reading my mind?”

“I did a deep scan when I held your face, wanting a deeper understanding of your past,” she said. “But other than that, walking around you, I listened in on to your surface thoughts. I listened to discover not who you were then, but who you are now.”

She walked away from him.

“So what now?” he asked. He didn’t think this could possibly be the end.

“Now you learn what you’ve won,” she said with a smile.

“Do not worry, I will not possess you,” she said, earning a relieved sigh from him. “I am an echo, not a soul. If you need me, I will guide you, assist you as needed. This will not be a free ride; I will explain things when I am ready, when you are ready, and not a moment before. Consider me a guide to the ways of the Sanjiyan Unkara.

“Don’t think that gets you out of learning on your own. I still expect you to study under those who help you now.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. It was never easy for him, was it?

Nodding, she continued to walk away. “I’ll see you later, Saotome, when you learn to come here at will. Perhaps one day I’ll even tell you about my history and my name. Until then, descendant, live long, live well, and stay good.”

Ranma blinked as a fog began to slowly encompass the land around him. “Okay, nothin’ creepy about this,” he murmured.

His sarcasm became justified as energy seemed to pulse within the fog bank, arcs of electricity sparked around the ground as the fog’s opening around him began to shrink.

His shoulders shrank at that. “Why does me getting anything good for me usually involve pain?” he asked the heavens, as if expecting an answer. “It’s almost enough to make a guy go emo,” he said, before he began to scream.

“It appears to finally be happening,” said Saffron, as Ranma began to convulse, pulses of energy running up and down his body like a Tesla coil.

“You think?” asked Rouou with sarcasm, as he tilted a table over to act as a barrier between him and the explosion he just knew would have to occur.

“Aren’t you being a bit over-dramatic, old friend?” asked Saffron.

“Fire in the hole!” Rouou replied, ignoring him and advising the guard at the door.

“Nothing will go wrong!” yelled Saffron, before he felt a push of energy behind him. Turning, he spotted a glowing sphere of energy surrounding Ranma, which seemed to be getting more intense as each second ticked by.

“Oh shi—” He never got to finish his sentence before the energy discharged.

“Is everyone okay?” asked Rouou, as he slowly pushed an overturned table off of himself.

A few mumbled replies reached his ancient ears, as the old man forced himself to his feet.

“Not one word, Rouou, not one word!” yelled out Saffron, as he struggled to stand, using the nearby wall the energy pulse had tossed him into to assist him.

Rouou would have snorted had not his body hurt so damn much at that moment. Instead he made his way closer to the still form of the young man who had caused the distortion. “Hey brat, you still alive?”

“Urgh.”

“Guess so,” Rouou mused as he walked over to the prone form. “Say something.”

“I hate you so much, Old Man,” Ranma said through a weak voice.

“He’s fine!” yelled out Rouou, as he got close enough to see the boy’s face. The third eye normal with the Sanjiyan Unkara was now upon his forehead, only partially opened just like his other two.

“Old Man?”

“Yes Ranma?”

“You look different,” Ranma commented, his three eyes focusing on the face of his Sensei.

“That’s probably the new depth perception you have,” Rouou commented. “You need to get used to have three eyes.”

Ranma shook his head slightly. “I think that’s not it,” he said, raising his hand slightly, and poking the old man … in his new third eye.

Rouou blinked at the pain, before his eyes opened wide. “DAMN IT SAFFRON!”