Reflections of Ruin
by P.H. Wise
A Ranma/Sailor Moon Crossover Fukufic

Prologue: Broken Reflection

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma. I don't own Sailor Moon. Please don't sue me. I'm not doing this for profit.


The laboratory was burning. It was all burning. Flame and heat and smoke filled the air, and nothing human would survive it for long. The experiment had failed. Professor Tomoe's revolutionary attempt at drawing energy from subspace had drawn something... else. Something dark. Something that now searched almost frantically through the ruins of the burning laboratory. Nearby, Tomoe Soichi lay dying.

"Damnit, where is she!" the Dark Presence – Mistress 9 – hissed. She was a vast, dark, vaguely female humanoid shape, and the shadows writhed around her, but she was fading; her spectral form grew fainter and fainter by the moment. She scooped up the Professor by his throat, heedless of his dying state. "Where is your daughter, Doctor?" she demanded. "Where is my vessel?"

Soichi smiled faintly, seemingly unaware that he was being held aloft by his throat. "I always wanted a daughter..." he coughed violently – a great, wracking wet cough. When he had finished, there was blood on his lips.

Mistress 9 dropped him disgustedly. She could not understand what had gone wrong. The stars were in line. This was the night she had to take possession of her host, or lose everything. Hotaru Tomoe – the reborn Soldier of Ruin – had been born to this man's wife. Her divinations had shown this to be true. They had also shown her that the one who would be the Messiah of Silence was in mortal danger this night, and every spell she'd cast had led her to believe it would be here, now. Leaning down over the man, she intoned in a grave voice, "Where is Hotaru Tomoe?"

Soichi looked up at Mistress 9, surprised. "Hotaru?" he asked hopefully.

"Your daughter, Doctor Tomoe. Where is she?"

The light in Soichi's eyes faded slightly. "Hotaru," he whispered desperately. "Tomoe Hotaru. That was what we were going to name her. If she hadn't been..." tears began to shine in his eyes. "If she hadn't been... stillborn... six years ago now." Even as his life bled out from the horrible gashes across his body, he began to cry.

Mistress 9 snarled and whirled away from the broken man. Germatoid could see what use he could make of this one, but it seemed that if she herself was to survive the night, she would need to find another host. While no host would be nearly so ideal as Hotaru Tomoe would have been, she was no longer in a position to be picky. In great wrath, she departed the burning lab.

She would have to be quick. Any female would do, provided she was young enough that she would be unable to effectively fight off her influence, even in this weakened state.

There. She would do.

As Mistress 9's spectral form descended upon a dark haired six year old girl out for a walk with her mother and her two sisters, far away, at that very moment, a young boy covered in fish-sausages was being lowered into a pit full of starving cats for the third time...


Author's notes: This is a story idea that had been kicking around in my head for almost six years now, and I just ran out of the will to resist writing it. Ah well.

Edit: Removed most of the gratuitous Japanese.