Reprisal

By katz

Part VII

“Here you go Kuno, only eight thousand yen each.”

Nabiki waved a handful of very sordid pictures of Ranma in his cursed form tantalizingly in front of the face of a blustering Kuno.

“Eight thousand!” he exclaimed incredulously, his face screwed up in indecision between taking the pictures and refusing the outrageous offer. “This is highway robbery!”

Nabiki shrugged. “If you don’t want them…”

“Wait!” He looked almost ready to say something, but his shoulders sagged. “Alright I’ll take them.”

“That’s why I like doing business with you, Kuno-baby,” she said, handing over the pictures and taking the roll of yen notes he held out.

“But I want a discount next time!” shouted the hakama-clad kendoist.

“Sure thing,” Nabiki said absently, counting out the yen.

“Nabiki!”

Nabiki looked up, annoyed at the disturbance. It was Sakuya, one of her junior partners in their bookie business, running toward her at full speed. The girl stopped panting in front of her, hands on her knees from the exertion.

“Nabiki…” she gasped. “Principal… head… new guy…”

“Calm down Sakuya,” Nabiki said, resuming her count. “Catch your breath and then talk.”

Sakuya nodded and after a few moments of heavy breathing, she began talking again.

“It’s the principal!” she cried. “You have to see him!”

“What about him?” Nabiki replied absently.

“Yes, what about the principal?” asked Kuno, pictures momentarily forgotten. Something that may have been concern was in his voice.

“He shaved his head!”

Nabiki lost count and Kuno gasped.

“Are you certain?” Kuno questioned sharply.

Sakuya nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he was completely bald! Something about setting a good example for the students.”

“That’s nonsense,” Kuno said. “My father would never… I mean the principal…”

“Is that all or is there more?” Nabiki asked over Kuno’s stammering.

Sakuya nodded again. “He said he’s going on vacation and he’s leaving a new student in charge.”

“What! How dare he… excuse me fair ladies but I must go.” He took off down the hall.

“New guy?” Nabiki asked, ignoring Kuno. She was counting her money again. “What new guy?”

Sakuya shrugged. “I don’t know, I just saw him now. They say he’s from China or something. His name is Sun Moo-suh or something like that.”

Nabiki froze, and then frowned in annoyance when she realized she lost count again. “His name is Mousse? Long hair, tall, wears a black coat?”

Sakuya nodded. “That sounds like him, but he was wearing a student uniform. Do you know him?”

“We’ve met. Thank you for the information. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Sakuya said, puzzled. “I’ll see you later.”

When she was gone, Nabiki put the money away. She didn’t have to worry about Kuno cheating her. She could hear the dull roar of students returning to class, which meant the convocation was over. A slight smile crept onto her face as she made her way to the principal’s office.

***

“Are there any questions?” Mousse scanned the gathered student body. He found Ranma momentarily, seated with the girls Ukyo and Akane and looking as amazed as everyone else. He smiled thinly as their eyes connected.

“Very well. All classes are dismissed. Have a nice day.”

With that he turned and walked behind the curtain to the back entrance. The principal stood there, head bowed meekly. The ceiling lights reflected off his freshly shaved head.

“Come on,” Mousse ordered sharply. The principal jumped as if startled and followed a respectful distance behind. It was amazing how a little pain and humiliation can change someone. The excited clamor of the students soon faded behind them as they passed from the back of the auditorium into the halls.

“You will take a vacation,” Mousse said, not bothering to look back. “You will leave and you will not come back until next year. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” came the quiet reply.

“And when you come back you will no longer act like a retard. If I come back and see you wearing that moronic outfit again or if I hear even a trace of an accent in your voice, I will kill you. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” His voice quavered slightly.

Mousse stopped abruptly in front of the principal’s office. The principal almost stumbled to keep from bumping into him and drew back suddenly as Mousse whirled around.

“What are you waiting for? Leave.”

Mousse watched in satisfaction as the man started running, almost tripping over a garbage can.

“Nice to see you’re making friends here.”

Mousse turned in surprise, having heard no one approach. He blinked as he saw Nabiki standing there, looking after the rapidly retreating form of the principal.

When he was gone, she looked at him in the same appraising way she did the first time they met. She circled around him slowly, looking him up and down. Mousse stood there silently, unsure of what to do. She finally stopped in front in him and straightened out his collar.

“Very nice,” she said, brushing some lint from his shoulder. “You look good like this.”

“Thanks,” Mousse replied, still unsure of himself. “You’re looking good too, Nabiki.”

She smirked while tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “Flattery will almost get you everywhere,” she said, hooking her arm around his. “Come on.”

They walked together through the halls, which were rapidly filling with students at their lockers packing bookbags to go home. Several waved at the new junior administrator while others stared at the two walking arm in arm.

“Where are they going?” Nabiki asked.

“I dismissed school for the rest of the day,” Mousse replied, nodding at the students.

“That was very generous of you,” Nabiki said, a slight tone of surprise in her voice.

Mousse shrugged. “I thought the principal having such a change of heart was cause enough for a holiday.”

“It is,” Nabiki agreed. “Of course, you wouldn’t have anything to do with the principal’s new values, now would you?”

He smirked. “Well, I may have played some minor role in persuading him. People have told me I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

“I bet you are. So why did you enroll here?”

He laughed. “As fascinating as Japanese daytime television is, after watching the Super Mega Fighting Seizure Robots save Tokyo from a giant hamster monster for the fifth time, I did get kind of bored.”

Nabiki laughed along with him. “I see. But then why didn’t you pay us a visit if you were so bored? Auntie Nodoka would have liked to have seen you again.”

Mousse’s expression turned serious. “Because I don’t think it would have been a good idea for me to be around anyone,” he said quietly. He glanced sideways at her. “But if you’re not too busy, I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Really?” She looked interested. “How?”

“How about I treat you to dinner this Friday?”

“I suppose that will do. Anywhere in particular?”

He shrugged. “I’ll send the limo to pick you up and we’ll decide from there.”

“That sounds good.” She frowned. “Did you say limo?”

“Yes, limo.” He grinned. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I must get going.”

Nabiki was about to say something, but he had already gently disengaged his arm from hers and was hurrying back toward the principal’s office. She frowned after him. Maybe he was just trying to impress her, but it didn’t quite feel like it. There was something more to him than met the eye. She shrugged. She would find out sooner or later. Until then, all she could do was wait.

***

Mousse locked the door behind him and began carefully searching the principal’s room. Satisfied no one else was in the room with him, he looked out the window and down at the home bound students. Seeing that Ranma had not yet left, he sat in the principal’s chair and prepared himself for the task ahead.

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled out the vial containing the drug. Cloudy red fluid filled the glass container. Looking closely he could see the drug churned restlessly, like fire trapped in liquid form trying to break free. He closed his eyes as he felt himself getting lost within the swirling patterns forming and shuddered. Sometimes he could swear it was trying to draw him in. There was a good reason why it was called Burning Red.

Shaking off his fear, he pulled out a hypodermic needle and attached the vial, squirting out a small amount of the viscous fluid to test it. The droplets sizzled as they hit the wooden desk, creating tendrils of smoke that curled up toward the ceiling before dissipating. He shuddered again. He hated this part.

Quickly and without thinking, he jabbed the needle into his neck and pumped the Burning Red in. He gasped and gripped the armrest of the chair with his free hand. He heard it crack and crumble in his grip. His legs jerked as he felt the drug circulate slowly through his system, taking its time, burning like magma through each of his veins. He grit his teeth and forced himself to take it. He had to draw out every bit of the drug or it would burn him up inside. The pain lasted forever.

An instant later, it was over. The only sound in his room was his harsh breathing as he sagged back in the chair. He looked down to see his hand holding the crushed remains of the armrest in a deathgrip. He stood up slowly, brushing his hands off and smoothing out his jacket. In his peripheral vision he could detect a slight reddish ting forming. It wouldn’t be long now.

He walked over to the window. This time the students were out in full force, eager to enjoy their free day to the fullest. He could see every student, hear their voices, even smell them. But most of all, he felt their life pulsing in each and every one of them. They were bright points of light moving in a sea of softly glowing mist, signaling to each other merrily as they celebrated life. And among them was one light, a sun among stars, brighter and stronger than all the others. A brief, indescribable emotion passed over Mousse’s face as he found his target. He jumped out of the third story window into the sea of light.

***

Ranma froze. What was that!?

He looked around wildly. He felt something, something powerful, but it was there and gone so quickly he was tempted to write it off to his imagination. It couldn’t have been a battle aura, one that strong would destroy whoever created it in an instant. Besides it didn’t feel like any battle aura he’s ever felt before; it was like…fire…

“Ranma, did you feel that?” asked Akane worriedly.

“Yeah what was that?” Ukyo breathed.

A tingle went up his spine. He wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t his imagination.

“I don’t know,” he replied. He looked at the two. “Maybe we should hurry back.”

“Hurry where?” queried a voice from behind them.

They jumped slightly and turned around to see Mousse standing behind them.

“Oh, hey, junior administrator,” greeted Ranma. He took a deep breath. “Man you scared us there.”

“Sorry. Walk with me for a while, Ranma,” he said. “I need to speak with you alone.”

He bowed his head toward the two girls. “Forgive me, ladies, but there is some business I must discuss with Mr. Saotome.”

“Ah, okay,” Ukyo replied while Akane simply nodded.

Mousse smiled and gestured to Ranma. “Come on.”

The two walked ahead of the group of students, who kept a respectful distance back. Mousse said nothing while they walked, and Ranma was becoming nervous.

“So, what did you need to talk to me about?” He grimaced. “You’re not gonna gimme a lecture on my grades are ya?”

Mousse laughed. The sound was sharp in Ranma’s ears.

“No, nothing like that,” Mousse said, grinning. His grin looked too feral in Ranma’s opinion, like he might go for his throat at any moment. “It’s something a little more…”

Mousse stopped suddenly, his face set into a glare. When Ranma saw what he was looking at he groaned. It was Kuno and his kendo club blocking their way. Kuno looked ready to give them one of his infamous speeches.

Ranma stepped forward to confront Kuno, but Mousse held out an arm to stop him.

“I’ll handle him,” he said tersely.

Ranma nodded and stepped back. The glare had turned into a deep scowl. He didn’t know whether or not Mousse could fight, but he still didn’t try to interfere. His eyes flickered with something that felt like rage. He looked like he was ready to kill.

***

The drug was in full swing by the time Mousse landed silently behind Ranma and his friends. He was surprised. Usually the drug took longer to fully seep into the body. He guessed it was because his body was becoming accustomed to it. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

The pain was replaced by euphoria. It felt like he was swelling, becoming larger, and everything around him became as insignificant as the buzzing of flies. The lights around him became dim as his own light flared and danced, drowning them out. The red at the edge of his vision became more pronounced. He was becoming a god. He hated that feeling, hated it more than the pain. It was just another side effect, one of many, but by far the most sinister. It was the feeling of losing control. He knew he couldn’t fully control the Burning Red; the strain of trying to keep it obedient to his will would drive him insane. But he also knew he couldn’t let it run free, or it would consume him. He had to ride it; let it have its way but never let the undercurrents it created in his mind drag him under. It was a dangerous tightrope to walk.

He knew he was acting strangely around Ranma and his friends, but he was unconcerned. He was beyond them now. All that was left was to defeat Ranma and claim the old hag’s spawn as his own. He frowned. What was her name again…?

He stopped. A group of boys dressed in hakamas stood in front of them, armed with bokkens set in ready stance. At the front was the leader, tall, with aristocratic features set in a haughty expression. He looked prepared to give a speech. Mousse scowled. He heard about this one. Kuno Tatewaki, captain of the kendo club and all around ass. Ranma moved forward to confront him, but Mousse held out his arm. He wanted to handle this one.

“You’re blocking my path,” he said quietly.

Kuno looked down haughtily. “So you are the junior administrator, Mousse was it?” He snorted disdainfully. “I find it hard to believe that a new student of lowborn station such as yourself could become junior administrator on your first day. Just so you know, you have no authority…”

Mousse was seething with barely contained anger. He wanted nothing more than to decorate the school with the arrogant kendoist’s innards, but kept himself in check when he saw that his vision was beginning to cloud over with red. He retreated back into the cold, sterile part of his mind where he could still think rationally.

Stay frosty. He isn’t worth it.

“You’re a kendoist,” Mousse said in the middle of Kuno’s speech.

Kuno scowled, annoyed at the interruption. “I am captain of the Furinkan Kendo Club, The Blue Thunder, Kuno Tatewaki. You will address me with the proper respect…”

“I despise kendoists,” Mousse said flatly. “To me you’re something between a cockroach and the white stuff that forms on the corner of your mouth when you get thirsty. Now step back.”

There was a collective gasp among the students as the words left his mouth. Even some of the other kendoists edged away nervously at the expression on Kuno’s face.

“How dare you, vile miscreant!” he shouted, raising his bokken. “I shall punish you for your slander against the most noble of arts!”

Mousse stepped forward smoothly, raising his hand to catch Kuno’s wrist as it came down. A quick jerk was all it took to send an amazed Kuno flying through the air and into a nearby tree. He hit the wood hard, the whole tree shuddering noticeably from the impact, and dropped to the ground motionless.

Mousse turned to the other kendoists and waited, hands clasped behind his back. The few brave ones that stayed after that display hurried to carry away the unconscious Kuno.

“Shall we continue?” Mousse asked a surprised Ranma, who nodded and followed him wordlessly.

***

Cologne’s eyes snapped up from the scroll. A veritable bonfire of barely controlled chi suddenly burst into existence and was gone again before she could pinpoint its location. But she already knew where it was coming from. He was at the school.

Shampoo and the twins charged down the stairs, almost falling over each other to see Cologne.

“What was that, Grandmother?” asked Shampoo breathlessly.

Cologne set aside the scroll. “It’s him. He’s after son-in-law.”

Shampoo gasped. “That was Mousse? I have to help Ranma, Mousse will kill him!”

“Patience child,” she replied, and turned to the twins. “Remember what I told you. He should be busy now, but don’t draw needless attention to yourselves. I’m counting on you.”

Lin-lin and Ran-ran nodded, with a slight trace of fear in their eyes, before running out the door. Shampoo gave a questioning look to Cologne, who was already leaving.

“Come,” she said. “We must stop this before it gets beyond our control.”

***

Ranma fidgeted nervously as they walked down the street. Mousse had gone up ahead a few steps, not so much as glancing back to make sure he was still following. He glanced back and saw Ukyo and Akane following them, nervous expressions on their face as well, and behind them the rest of students. They must have made a strange procession walking down the streets like that, a parade of eerily quiet students.

They were going to fight. Ranma knew that now. He didn’t know how he knew; maybe it was how Mousse had handled Kuno, or maybe it was the air of eager anticipation that seemed to surround him, but he knew they were going to fight for whatever reason and there was nothing he could do to avoid it. He wasn’t afraid. What he felt was more like an odd expectation. The quiet suddenly seemed more like the calm before a storm.

Mousse suddenly stopped at the corner. Ranma came up beside him and cast a sideway glance at him. He was looking straight ahead, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. They waited there silently. Ranma heard the crowd come up behind them and stop a few feet away. Ranma cleared his throat to speak when he heard a distant, somehow familiar sound drawing near. His eyes widened as a long, sleek black limousine drew up along the sidewalk and came to a stop beside them. The tinted driver’s side window came down, revealing an older man with white hair and thin, neatly clipped moustache.

“I take it the guests have not arrived yet, sir?” the man inquired.

“Not yet, Mori,” Mousse said. “Park somewhere out of the way, this should not take long.”

“Yes, sir.” The window came up and the limo moved slowly down the empty street.

Ranma gaped. “You have a limo? And a butler?”

Mousse nodded. “Yes.” His eyes flickered up and to the side. “They’re here.”

Ranma looked puzzled before he felt the familiar auras of Cologne and Shampoo approaching.

What do they have to do with this?

Cologne and Shampoo appeared on the roof of a building across the street, leaping easily to the sidewalk. They came forward, Cologne glowering on her staff and Shampoo pensive, but stopped short of arm’s length from them.

“What are you doing here, boy?” rasped Cologne.

“You know why I’m here,” Mousse answered. He nodded at Shampoo, who drew back instinctively. “I’m here to take what’s mine. Will you give her to me or must I take her by force?”

Cologne laughed. “Foolish boy. She is not yours, she never has and she never will be.”

Mousse smirked. “I’ll take that as a no.” He turned to Ranma. “Saotome Ranma, I hereby challenge you for the hand of… (What was her name?)… your fiancée.”

Ranma nodded. “You know, I somehow knew this was going to happen,” he said thoughtfully. He assumed his ready stance. “Very well. In the name of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, I accept.”

“I forbid it,” said Cologne.

“Huh?” Ranma managed. Mousse glanced sharply at her.

“It is my belief that you do not intend to marry my great-granddaughter and make the tribe stronger,” she stated. “You only wish to hurt me in your personal vendetta by taking her away from me. As an Elder of the Amazon tribe, I forbid it.”

“You figured all that out by yourself, amazing,” Mousse sneered. “Your position as Elder means shit to me, but I’ll play that game. I demand the right of challenge upon the honor of my Amazon lineage, through my father, Sun Li Mu, and his father, Han Bai Chang. Do you refuse me?”

Cologne’s mouth worked but no sound came out. How did he know that?

“Uh-oh, looks like somebody’s been doing their homework,” Mousse said mockingly. “Now you haven’t answered my question. Do you refuse me my right?”

Shampoo, who had been watching the whole exchange with a mix of silent fear and confusion, bent down to ask Cologne something, who waved her off angrily.

“You cannot call upon that right,” she said. “You’re…”

“Dead?” Mousse finished for her. He looked genuinely surprised. “Really? Are you sure? Let’s see now, I’m breathing, I have a pulse, I can respond to outside stimuli, I want to kill you…no, I have to disagree with you. I think I’m very much alive.” He grinned madly. “Now back to my question. Do you refuse me my right?”

“You know I cannot,” Cologne growled after a moment of angry silence. “But since you called upon your right, you know that I will set the terms for the match.”

“Of course,” Mousse laughed. “As if it would make a difference.”

Cologne seethed for a moment. “I have two conditions. First, this match will be hand-to-hand only. No weapons.”

Mousse shrugged. “Kicking it old school, huh? Good enough for me.”

“Second, you will be disabled for the match.”

Mousse raised an eyebrow. “How will you do that?”

“Hold still,” Cologne said. Her hand blurred and an instant later a dart was buried in Mousse’s right thigh.

Mousse winced slightly but his gaze never wavered. He yanked the long-hafted dart from his leg. The wound began flowing blood freely.

“I’ll be taking that out on your great-granddaughter when I’m done,” he said.

“If you survive, boy,” she retorted. “Let the match begin.”

“Hey, hold it,” said Ranma. He gestured at Mousse. “I’m not gonna fight him like that, he’s wounded!”

Cologne hopped close enough to him until she was able to whisper in his ear. “You can and you will fight him. He is dangerous, son-in-law, more dangerous than you know. I evened the playing field for you but you must finish him quickly. Do it for Shampoo. Please son-in-law, I’m begging you.”

Ranma blinked, not expecting Cologne of all people to say something like that. Something in her voice, like desperation, decided him. “All right, I’ll do it. But this still don’t feel right.”

Cologne sighed in relief. “Thank you, son-in-law. Remember, finish him quickly.”

Ranma nodded and reassumed his ready stance, feet spread wide, left arm cocked at his side and right arm set in front of him at a right angle, fist up in the air. “All right, Mousse,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mousse, who was standing with his arms folded while they spoke, nodded and assumed his own ready stance, drawing his wounded leg up until the foot rested against the side of his left knee, one hand raised high in the air palm up and the other held straight out with the palm facing his opponent.

The two stood still for an indeterminable amount of time, barely six feet from each other. The only sounds were the muffled coughs from someone in the hushed crowd and the steady drip of Mousse’s blood on the pavement. An occasional cloud passed overhead, casting them in brief shade before moving on in its mindless journey.

Suddenly Ranma charged, finally grown impatient with the long standoff, and struck out with his fists. Mousse met his attack easily, shifting his stance to accommodate its momentum, moving backward while blocking aside fists with open palms. The dance had begun.

***

Shampoo watched nervously while the two combatants moved with efficient laziness of those long practiced in their art. Ranma seemed to be in control of the battle, striking with hands and feet in the hard, linear style of Japanese martial arts, while Mousse was on the defensive, favoring his right leg but somehow managing to dodge around Ranma’s attacks with the flowing grace of Chinese wushu. But something was wrong. Ranma was holding back, increasing the speed and power of his attacks incrementally instead of going all out like Cologne had advised. And Mousse was adjusting a little too easily despite his wound, sometimes going on the offensive, moving so quickly that Ranma barely managed to block his blows, and then pulling back into defensive almost playfully. Mousse was toying with him.

She glanced at her great-grandmother. A tiny bead of sweat rolled slowly down the side of her scowling face. That shook her more than anything. If Cologne was nervous, or even afraid, then she had more than enough reason to be terrified. She shivered in spite of the late spring heat. Mousse had changed so much. He was stronger, so much stronger than she dreamed he could be, she could feel power coming off him like heat, but he was also so…evil. This was not the blind, bumbling, sweet Mousse she remembered, the one who liked to sketch her picture when he thought she wasn’t looking, or play music on his erhu when he wasn’t chasing after her proclaiming his undying love. This Mousse was hard, unforgiving, and cold, with that horrible, false grin perpetually on his face, challenging Ranma so he could take her as his prize. He had even forgotten her name…

Shampoo’s eyes widened. …forgotten my name…

She turned shocked eyes to Cologne, who was still watching the fight intently. Her mind turned back to the time when she first gave the Kiss of Death to Akane and tried to wipe out her memory.

She wouldn’t…

There was something about Cologne’s explanation about Mousse that didn’t quite feel right, though she didn’t press it. If she couldn’t trust her own flesh and blood, who could she trust? But she had lied about his death and Cologne could be absolutely ruthless when it came to the safety of her and her own. With numb realization, Shampoo knew that Cologne could have done it. And now watching Mousse, who so easily swatted aside one of Ranma’s lightning fast punches, she realized that Cologne most likely did.

***

Ranma stepped up his attacks once again as Mousse easily moved aside his punch, almost making him fall over from overextension. He growled under his breath as Mousse grinned that insufferable grin at him. Handicap or no handicap, he was good. But Ranma knew that he was the better fighter. He was the best.

Okay then, you wanna play it that way, fine. No holding back.

He charged forward again, moving and striking as fast as he could. His fists and feet blurring as moved from one technique to another. And Mousse dodged them all with same arrogant ease he dodged Ranma’s earlier attacks.

No way…

Suddenly Mousse’s hand lashed out, catching hold of Ranma’s wrist. He felt himself jerked forward and then suddenly back as Mousse drove the heel of his palm into his chest, knocking the air out of him. Ranma managed to remain standing despite the palm strike, his feet kicking up twin clouds of dust as he slid back. When he finally stopped he was at least twenty feet from where he once was. He gasped for breath.

This could be bad.

***

Mousse studied Ranma’s technique with interest. Anything Goes Martial Arts was really anything goes. Ranma’s base style seemed to be kempo with some karate and jujitsu influence, but he could name at least a dozen different styles liberally mixed in. Not only that, but Ranma was talented, fast, and flexible in both mind and body, switching technique and style on a dime when called for. If Ranma developed his chi a little more, Mousse would swear he was sparring with one of his brothers.

The wound in his leg was throbbing mercilessly. He wouldn’t put it past the old witch to have poisoned the dart before hand. And the Red was fading. He would have to end it soon. He never planned to actually use the power the Burning Red gave him while fighting Ranma, but he wanted to Cologne to see just how powerful he could be.

I think I got the point across. Time to claim my prize.

He knocked Ranma back softly. Even so, he slid back about two dozen feet before coming to a stop, gasping for breath. At least he managed to stay on his feet.

Mousse dropped his stance and stood normally while favoring his wounded leg.

“Good, Ranma, very good,” he said. “But it’s not good enough. Tell you what. You leave now and spare yourself some pain. I know you don’t care about the Amazon so there’s no point for you to continue. Come on, what do you say?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Ranma gasped. “I’m doing this for the honor of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts. I can’t just give up.”

Mousse sighed in disappointment. “I see. Well, have it your way.”

He rushed forward moving as quickly as he could. He caught a surprised look on Ranma’s face before it twisted with pain as he was punched in the gut. As Ranma doubled over, Mousse brought his knee up into his chest, sending him flying across the street.

Mousse sighed again. I don’t want to hurt the guy, but I guess there’s no choice.

***

The crowd gasped as Mousse suddenly appeared in front of Ranma and sent him flying through the air in just two strikes. Cologne narrowed her eyes. Mousse was far too strong. It was simply impossible for a human to have chi that powerful. Something was definitely wrong.

Ranma was standing now, using a wall as support, and assumed his ready stance. He didn’t have time to react before Mousse appeared before him again, leaping into the air and kicking him in the chest with enough force to send Ranma crashing through the concrete wall. Resilient as her future son-in-law was, he couldn’t take much more punishment. He was going to need help.

Cologne sighed, hating what she had to do and what it might mean if Shampoo ever found out. The girl had a soft spot for the old Mousse, even if he was a blind idiot. She may never forgive her if she ever found out.

Ranma leapt out of the hole in the wall, attacking Mousse with all the speed and strength he could muster, but Mousse simply spun on his heel and kicked him out of the way.

“Ranma, listen carefully!” she shouted out. “He is Jusenkyo cursed! Get him near cold water.”

But all it earned her was a shocked look from Shampoo and an annoyed one from Mousse. The glance cost him though, as Ranma recovered with uncanny speed, kicking Mousse in the midsection. Mousse didn’t seem to feel it as he swatted Ranma away again and turned his attention to the fight.

Cologne cursed under her breath. Ranma hadn’t heard. It was time to play a direct part in the fight. Hopping over to a nearby water hydrant she spotted earlier. She waited as the two fighters neared. Mousse was playing with him again, throwing Ranma around like a rag doll. The two came into alignment with the spout.

Let’s see how you like fighting as a duck, monster.

She struck the hydrant with her staff and cold water gushed out, spraying the combatants with cold water.

***

Mousse cast an annoyed glance at Cologne as she revealed his former secret. His opponent didn’t seem to notice however, as he was trying desperately to hit him. The glance gave Ranma the opportunity to launch a side kick which would have floored someone else, but only annoyed Mousse. He knocked Ranma away contemptuously.

Time to end this. Don’t want to give him too many bruises.

However, as he came forward, a blast of cold wetness hit them both. He wiped the water from his glasses in irritation. He made a mental note to torture Cologne for a long time when he finally beat her. He looked around for his opponent, who was at the moment nowhere to be found. He finally caught a glimpse of wet red cloth and grinned. It’s over now.

However as he descended on the figure, it suddenly let out a very female shriek of fear. Mousse skid to a halt. Instead of Ranma, there was a wet, frightened looking girl with red hair tied up in a pigtail.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded, raising her arms in protection.

Mousse’s initial confusion passed quickly as he swept the area for Ranma, who had mysteriously disappeared.

That’s strange. I could have sworn…wait. The girl…

A flaring of chi behind him was the only warning he got before the girl he had nearly smashed into the pavement suddenly leapt up.

“Kacchu Tenshin Amaguriken!”

Mousse fell back under the force of hundreds of blows striking out all under the span of a few seconds.

***

Ranma, now in his female form, stood panting over the still, wet body of her opponent.

She hated using dirty tricks like that, but it was the only way to win. She winced as she began walking away from the jet of water still shooting from the broken hydrant. That guy hit hard.

“Ranma!” she heard three cries at once, as Akane, Ukyo, and Shampoo rushed forward to see him.

She held up her hands, grimacing. “Please not now. I just wanna go home.”

The three stopped in front of her, close enough to see if she was seriously hurt but far enough away to give him her own space.

“Ranma are you all right?” asked Akane concernedly.

“Yeah, nothing I couldn’t handle,” she replied confidently.

“You really had us worried there, Ranchan,” Ukyo said. “I mean, that guy was so…”

The words died in her mouth as she suddenly gaped. Ranma froze. She felt it too. The same flaring of ki, like a bonfire. Except this time it was closer. Much, much closer.

A hissing sound filled the air, as though large quantities of water were being poured onto a hot metal surface. Ranma turned around to see huge clouds of steam billowing upward from where Mousse lay. But Mousse wasn’t lying down. He was standing, bent forward in a bestial posture while dark red tongues of flaming chi undulated languidly, like fire in slow motion. As the water hit his body, it was instantly turned in to steam. A low, guttural sound issued from deep inside him.

It was him, Ranma thought dazedly. It was him.

“Amazon.” Ranma heard Mousse growl, before he howled in rage and rushed forward.

***

Mousse lay in the cold water, dazed from the punishment that girl had dealt him.

Kacchu Tenshin Amaguriken?

His mind was so hazy he could barely remember his Japanese, but that phrase sounded strangely familiar. He closed his eyes and shook his head the best he could to clear his muddled thoughts, but nothing would come.

Chestnuts…

His eyes snapped open as wide as they could go as a memory came to the surface with the blinding flash of a lightning bolt.

No, not in Japanese…in Chinese…

He had seen that technique before, long ago in another life. A life he hated. Only the words shouted were in Chinese, not Japanese.

One thought ran through his mind over and over. Amazon.

The Red consumed him.

***

Ranma desperately dodged another wild downward punch from Mousse. The fist shattered the asphalt and drove itself in up to the middle of his forearm. She knew if that punch had connected she probably wouldn’t have survived it.

She didn’t know what happened, but it was obvious Mousse was no longer himself. Even though he now moved with the graceless fury of a madman, Ranma wagered his blows were far stronger than they were before. She barely stepped out of the way as Mousse again threw a punch at her. If it weren’t for that wound on his leg, she knew Mousse would have caught her and torn her apart piece by piece already.

Ranma hissed in pain as she again dodged Mousse, but one of the slow tongues of fiery chi brushed against her arm. She could smell burning cloth.

Fire…that’s it!

Mousse had paused for the moment, sucking in deep, ragged breaths as he watched Ranma with insane hatred. Ranma struck her most confident pose.

“Come on, Mousse! What’s wrong, you running out of breath?” she jibed. “Your mom runs faster than that!”

Ranma wondered if she had gone a bit too far when he saw Mousse’s reaction. He stood completely still, he even seemed to stop breathing. Then he started to shake, his eyes widening dangerously. He let out an inarticulate scream of rage before charging.

Ranma moved as fast as she could, keeping a narrow lead ahead of the demon that was once Mousse. But instead of dodging, she moved with purpose, drawing Mousse in closer and closer to the center of a spiral pattern. Mousse’s aura was pulling back to form a comet’s tail behind him as it was drawn into the spiral, creating curved lines of hot, glowing red.