Nekophobia Part 9:  The Rescue of Akane
by David Eddy <dje@progress.com>

Last modified:  Thursday, 30 July 1998

A fan fiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma
1/2.  The characters of Ranma 1/2 are the property of Takahashi
Rumiko and her licensees.


     

     A car pulled up outside and a doctor bustled in to the
Tendou yard.  He knelt to examine Kunou, noting his broken bones
and asking Kasumi to call for an ambulance almost immediately.
Then, re-examining the boy, he drew back in shock.

     "This boy is under the influence of drugs," he said
regretfully.  "It is the scourge of modern times," he added with
a shake of his head.

     Ranma-onna suddenly noticed that neither of the younger
Tendous were present.  Nabiki's absence in particular was odd.
And Kunou... drugged? Ranma's danger senses were clamouring.
She looked around hurriedly.  "Where's Akane!?" she asked Soun,
who simply looked confused.  Now almost frantic, she dashed
inside.

     A moment later, a scream of rage erupted from inside the
house.  Shortly thereafter, a now-male Ranma came sprinting out
of the house, his eyes burning, a lambent yellow aura glowing
about him.  "Kusooo babaaa!" he screeched as he ran.  A piece of
paper fluttered to the ground in his wake, and Soun stooped to
pick it up.  The characters were formal, neatly formed, and
chilling.

     "I have Akane and Nabiki.  You must come to the Nekohanten
alone."

     

     

     Ranma leaped over the wall to the street, his mind turning
over furiously even as he prepared to leap again.  Cologne!  She
had *both* Akane and Nabiki!  How *dare* that wrinkled old...

     *splash*!  *glomp*

     "Hehehehe!  Glad to see your master, boy?"

     Ranma stared at the wizened old face of Happousai, nestling
happily between her breasts.  His small hands held them against
his face, and he was wriggling his face against the warm, living
pillows.  Ranma slammed on the brakes, landing solidly in the
street outside the dojo.

     Small sounds began to leak from between her teeth.  Her
vision narrowed, and her muscles tensed in frustration.  "Leggo,
you decrepit old piece of shit!"

     Happousai simply shook his head happily, incidentally
rubbing Ranma's breasts even more with both his hands and
cheeks.  His eyes glowed happily.  "Not until you wear this for
me," he said, holding out a frilly lace bra.  "Don't you think
you owe it to your master for treating him so shockingly
before?"

     Ranma wrenched Happousai free of her chest and threw him to
the ground.  "You ain't my master, you moronic disgrace to the
art."

     The old man sprang to his feet and glared at Ranma angrily,
the happy shine of his eyes replaced by a hard glitter.  "I
think that I am, boy," he said.  "And you'll acknowledge me by
wearing this."

     "I ain't got time for you, kuso jiji!  I've gotta go save
Akane!" she screamed, trembling with frustration.  "And Nabiki,"
she added as an afterthought.

     Happousai flicked his hand contemptuously.  "Who cares
about them?" he snarled.  "They're only girls."  He smiled
unwholesomely, and brandished the lace bra.  "If you wear this
for me, I'll show you truly powerful techniques."

     "Some other time!" said Ranma as she turned and leaped
away.

     Only to fall flat on her face as Happousai tripped her.
She got up and faced Happousai again.  "What the hell did you do
that for?!  I've gotta go!"

     "You aren't going *anywhere* until you acknowledge me as
master... boy." There was no trace of the old man's sweetness
now.  Happousai's tone was heavy with malice, and a small shiver
raced down Ranma's spine at his pronouncement.  Briefly she
hesitated.

     In that moment, Happousai ripped open the large sack of
underwear he had been carrying on his back.  Ranma began to
dodge the underwear that flew in all directions until she
realised that the "underwear" was falling to the ground awfully
quickily.  She froze solid in terror when she realised that the
"underwear" was in fact cats.  Cats of all shapes and sizes
thudded to the ground, landing on their feet, their eyes glowing
with hunger.

     Then something made Ranma close his eyes shake his head
rapidly as if shaking out a bad dream.  Frozen in terror, he
opened his eyes to see that the cats around him no longer seemed
to have glowing eyes.

     In fact, one of the looked just like Akane in her cat form.
Well, nearly.

     The sound of yowling and memories of tearing claws receded
somewhat, and Ranma forced herself to face Happousai, taking a
defensive stance once again.

     The cats disappeared.

     "Well, well, boy," said Happousai, "you begin to master
yourself.  I think it's time to take you on a little training
trip."  The super-kawaii pitiful-old-man look came back into
Happousai's eyes and he held up the bra once again.  "Surely
it's not too much to ask for a faithful, appreciative student to
model this for his master?"

     An image of Shampoo standing over Akane and Nabiki with a
sword poised to strike came to her, though, and fresh commitment
surged through her veins.  Jumping up, Ranma leaped to attack
the old man.  He simply latched onto her chest and tauntingly
wriggled his face between her breasts.  Furiously she knocked
him free and attacked again.  This time he flicked her away with
his pipe, sending her crashing into a nearby lamp-post.  The
street light flickered and went out as small chips of debris
rained gently down from the top of the post.

     "Why won't you wear this for me?" asked Happousai from the
middle of the street, his best innocent expression decorating
his face.  "It's such a small thing I ask."

     Ranma sprang to her feet and charged Happousai.  The old
man tauntingly waved the bra in front of Ranma like a flag.
Ranma attacked and missed but she managed to dodge the flip of
his pipe that would have sent her spinning into the nearby
concrete fence.  Happousai lowered the bra, frowning at Ranma.
"Perhaps you protest too much, Grasshopper," he said in a sing-
song accent.  "I'm wonder if you a worthy heir, after all," he
added in poor imitation of Shampoo's accent.  "Maybe I should go
and train someone with *real* promise, like that Ryouga boy."

     Rage consumed Ranma and she felt her body tremble with the
tension singing through her.  With a yell of "kuso jijiii!" she
jumped the old man, only to be flung once again into the lamp-
post.  Again she got up, and this time she was flung with
terrific force into the concrete wall she had started from.  Yet
again she got up and was ready to charge again when she noticed
that for all his smirking demeanour and the lecherous glint in
his eyes, Happousai was looking somehow... disappointed.

     Disappointed?  Realisation hit Ranma like a hammer-blow.

     'Oh, *shit*!' thought Ranma.  'How could I do something
so... *basic*!'  The rage dissolved, to be replaced by chagrin
and self-anger.  She fought to keep her expression neutral as
she screamed at herself in her mind, 'BASIC!  BASIC!!'

     "What's wrong with you, my girl?  Give up yet?  Maybe I
should dress you myself, eh?"

     Ranma returned her full attention, never noticeably absent,
to Happousai.  She allowed the feeling of ice to fill her,
bringing calm to her mind in an exercise her father had taught
her almost at the beginning and that Cologne had reinforced when
she had trained him in the Hiryuu Shouten Ha.

     "I don't think so, old man," she said as she flowed into
him in a blindingly-fast move that sent Happousai flying towards
the horizon.  She watched him disappear, mentally shaking her
head.  "I can't believe that was actually *easy*," she said
under her breath.

     "What was easy, Ranko-chan?"

     Adrenaline crashed through Ranma's system as she spun.  Her
mother and father stood there.  Nodoka wore a mischievous smile
on her face.

     Letting out a breath as her body cancelled the alert, Ranma-
onna smiled at her mother.  "Mom!  You're back!"

     Nodoka nodded and hugged Ranma.  "Yes, we are, son."  She
held him at arm's length, then frowned a little.  "I'm glad to
see you're wearing a bra while you're a girl, Ranma, it's good
for your health and figure, but... it's normal practice to wear
one *under* one's blouse."

     Ranma stared at her chest in disbelief and, sure enough,
there was that frilly bra done up over her shirt.  With a curse
she ripped it off.  "Dammit, I *knew* that was too easy!"

     "Ranma!  You should treat that with care; they're fragile
and not cheap!"

     "Aw mom, it's not like I plan to make a habit of wearing
those things.  Anyway, I've gotta go!"

     "Come inside, Ranma.  We've got some important news."

     "I can't!  The old ghoul's kidnapped Akane!  And Nabiki.
I've gotta go rescue 'em!"  He leaped away in the direction of
the Nekohanten.

     Nodoka drew breath for a shout.  "Ranma, wai--!"

     She was cut off by Genma's hand.  "Let him go," he said.

     Nodoka watched as Ranma disappeared from view.  She turned
on her husband.  Several questions ran through her mind, but she
discarded them all in favour of the most important.  "Will he be
all right, Genma?"

     "My son is capable of defeating *any* foe," said Genma as
he puffed out his chest.

     Nodoka bopped Genma gently over the head with the hilt of
her katana.  "He's my son too, Genma, and don't you forget it."

     

     *    *    *

     

     Running at a steady pace, Ranma put worry for Akane out of
her mind and castigated herself once again for allowing herself
to forget a lesson so basic.  Anger was the enemy of control.
She avoided trying to think of *how* it had happened, but happen
it did... and perhaps she had never really learned that
particular lesson in the first place.

     For now, though, she had to rescue her fiancee.  Oh yes,
and Nabiki.  The old ghoul's note was leading him to the
Nekohanten, though somehow he doubted it would be as easy as
simply marching into the restaurant.  That fight he had had
against the old ghoul was the hardest he had ever had, and
although he had notionally won, he knew that as a result Cologne
had taken his measure yet again.  And it was pure luck that he
had managed to get that Hiryuu Shouten Ha to work... she must
have been overconfident or she would have seen it coming.

     She would have to keep a clear head this time, that was for
sure.

     

     The windows of the Nekohanten were obscured by paper.  They
glowed dimly, unevenly from whatever lit the inside.  Ranma
stopped and looked around.

     Everything was quiet... or as quiet as it ever got around
here, anyway.  Around her, the sounds of televisions and
conversations formed a background noise punctuated by the faint
clanking of cooking vessels.  Normal evening noises, nothing out
of the ordinary.  The other businesses nearby were either open
or closed as was normal for them.  The occasional person walked
the street.

     Except for the Nekohanten, everything seemed normal.  Ranma
could see no traps, although there was certainly one waiting for
him inside.  Extending her senses, reflexes set on a hair
trigger, she opened the door and went in.

     Inside, the restaurant was deserted, except for Mousse, who
sat quietly in one corner facing the doorway.

     "Where is she, Mousee?!" she asked, her eyes scanning for
the others.  But in vain; other than the Chinese boy the inside
of the restaurant was utterly deserted.

     "You must go here," said Mousse in an emotionless voice.
He produced a map.  "You will find what you seek at that
location."

     Ranma approached the table slowly, eyes alert for a trap.
She found nothing, however, and eventually took the map from its
resting place on the table.

     She looked at Mousse's preternaturally calm face
quizzically.  "How come you're not attackin' me?" she asked
suddenly.  "I mean, this's gotta be some plot of the old ghoul's
to get me to marry Shampoo."

     Mousse's glasses glinted in the light as he shook his head.
Ranma felt a growing sense of unreality creep in on her, the
traffic noises growing remote, somehow amplifying the kitchen
noises from the restaurant next door.  "I doubt very much that
that is the case, Saotome," he said.

     "Wha--?"  The room grew even more remote to Ranma as she
suddenly lost control of her legs.  She grabbed at the edge of
the table, the map crushed in her desperate grasp, as she tried
in vain to prevent herself sliding to the floor.

     She struggled against the encroaching tide of blackness.
Mousse stood and stepped into her field of vision.  She was
unable to move a muscle.  "Goodbye, Saotome," she saw him say as
he began to strip something from his hands, but she could hear
nothing through the growing rushing in her ears.

     

     *    *    *

     

     Nabiki woke with a grunt to an uncomfortable feeling of
constriction in her wrists and a bright blur of light.

     Rapid blinks cleared her eyes and she saw that in fact she
was in a dimly-lit warehouse, tied to something.  Something
rough, with a slightly pungent smell.

     Standing in front of her, a slight smile on her face, was
the old Chinese matriarch, Cologne.  Moving her head, she bumped
it against whatever she was tied to, and she quickly glanced
down at herself.  She was tied, spreadeagled, to a blue-painted
shipping pallet.  Briefly she tested her bonds, but the finger-
thick hemp rope she was tied with felt tangibly impervious to
her slight efforts, and the rough, unplaned wood of the pallet
hurt a little when she pressed against it as she struggled.

     Deliberately ignoring Cologne, Nabiki looked around.  Her
sister Akane was slumped unconscious, tied to another of the
sturdy-looking pallets at ankles, wrists, and waist by rope that
looked substantially sturdier than her own bonds.  She noticed
that her sister's pallet was leaning against a wall, like her
own.

     Other than themselves and a few stacks of the blue-painted
pallets, the warehouse was empty.  Inevitably her gaze fell
again on Cologne, who still wore that small smile of
superiority.  A shiver ran down Nabiki's smile at the sight, and
she wriggled involuntarily.

     "Don't attempt to free yourself, Tendou Nabiki," said
Cologne.  "You would only injure yourself, and there is no need
for that."

     "What do you want, Cologne?" asked Nabiki after a moment.

     "From you, nothing.  You are simply a hostage against
another's good behaviour, girl.  Please have the good grace to
remain quiet."

     Nabiki found herself raising one eyebrow automatically.
"It's Ranma, isn't it?  What are you going to do with him?"

     A door opened with a loud, echoing scrape and Shampoo
stepped into the warehouse carrying a something bulky in a large
cloth bag.  "<Where do you want this, Great-grand-mother?>" she
asked in Chinese.

     Turning from Nabiki, Cologne pointed at an area about five
yards away from the two bound girls, directly in front of them.
"Put it there, Shampoo."

     Shampoo walked over and dropped the folded futon on the
concrete floor of the empty warehouse before sitting casually on
top of a nearby stack of pallets that was about four feet high.
Then, suddenly, all seemed to become still, even though the
sounds of the city went on outside, punctuated by the sharp
*spang* of shifting metal as heat of the day left the building.

     Nabiki considered her cold hands.  She was certain that
Ranma would come to rescue Akane and herself... she just wished
he would get on with it.  This position was beginning to get
decidedly uncomfortable.

     

     

     The loud scraping of the warehouse's access door jerked
Nabiki awake from a light doze.  Shocked that she could possibly
have slept, she shook her head sharply to clear it of the
remaining tendrils of drowsiness.  She was glad to see that she
seemed to be clear-headed.

     "Nabiki?  Is that you?"

     Akane's voice drew Nabiki's gaze to her left, where she saw
that Akane was now awake, peering in her direction.  Quickly
Nabiki glanced around and saw that Shampoo still perched on her
stack of pallets, her gaze fixed on the two Tendou sisters.  At
the far side of the warehouse, outside the pool of light around
their immediate location, she also saw what appeared to be
Mousse carrying someone over his shoulder.  A sharp squeal and a
bang echoed through the empty space as he closed the door.

     Where was Cologne?

     "Oneechan, what's going on?"

     Nabiki turned again to Akane, a serious expression on her
face.  "Akane, I think we're in big trouble."

     She saw Akane jerk against her ropes, then shake her head
drunkenly.  Watching with a kind of horrified fascination,
Nabiki watched her sister peer owlishly around the warehouse,
shake her head again, then jerk as she noticed Shampoo.

     "Shampoo!" she yelled.  "Let us go this instant!  This
isn't going to get Ranma for you!"

     A shiver ran down Nabiki's spine as Shampoo simply smiled,
not even bothering to reply.  Such an action was so atypical of
the Chinese girl's normal behaviour that Nabiki was stunned.
She briefly conducted a reality check, pressing against the
rough wood to ensure she wasn't dreaming.  She shook her head
when the pain of a splinter told her that yes, she was not
dreaming.  'Shampoo must think the game's already won,' she
thought to herself.  'Where is Cologne?'

     Mousse stepped into the pool of light, and Nabiki saw that
the body he was carrying was Ranma.  Her heart skipped a beat in
momentary panic as Mousse lowered him -- no, her, she noticed;
Ranma was in his female form -- onto the concrete floor; the
utter lack of resistance meant that Ranma was either unconscious
or...  No, she was breathing.  Nabiki breathed a sigh of relief.

     "RANMA!" shrieked Akane, shock in her voice.

     Mousse looked up in utter disinterest at Akane's shout
before turning away.

     "RANMA!!!"  Akane's voice now contained the beginnings of
panic and despair.  She began to struggle frantically, trying to
break her bonds.

     "He's all right, Akane," called Nabiki.  "See, he's
breathing!  He's just unconscious."

     Akane whipped her gaze to Nabiki, her eyes wild.  Nabiki
saw intelligence return and her sister looked again at Ranma
then slumped in relief as she saw that Ranma was, indeed,
breathing.  "Thank God," said Akane in relief.

     "Yeah," agreed Nabiki under her breath.

     Mousse returned, a small camp stove in his hands.  With
steady, efficient motions he lit it and set a pot of water to
heat.  "Mousse!" called Akane.  "Let us go!  Ranma doesn't want
Shampoo; this is all a horrible mistake!"

     Nabiki was a little surprised to see that Mousse didn't
react to Akane's appeals, even to boast of his apparent victory
over Ranma.  She tuned out her sister's appeals to Mousse,
sorting through the evidence.  It only took a few moments.  The
conclusion was inescapable.

     "Akane, don't bother.  He's been drugged or something.
Programmed."  She caught a twinkle in Shampoo's eyes, and knew
she was right.

     Akane fell silent and studied Ranma a bit more before
settling for glaring at the impassive Shampoo.

     A curious silence fell, an odd kind of intense quiet only
emphasised by the hissing of the stove.  The occasional sound of
cooling sheet metal cut across the silence like a rifleshot, but
otherwise all was still.  The background noise that had been
present earlier seemed to have gone away, and now there was only
the hissing of the stove to lend life to the tableau.

     Eventually the water was hot, and Mousse tipped some over
Ranma's head, careful to avoid her face.  Then, pulling some
rope from somewhere, Mousse carefully hog-tied the now-male
Ranma.  He spread out the futon and placed Ranma on it with a
gentleness Nabiki found extremely odd.  Then Mousse left them
again, and once again all was quiet for a time.  Akane seemed to
have drifted off to sleep, Nabiki noticed.

     

     

     For a long time nothing happened.  Nabiki had long since
ceased to feel her hands.  Occasionally she would worriedly flex
them, watching their movement, before relaxing again.

     "Clench them, oneechan," said Akane after what seemed an
eternity.  Nabiki jerked in shock at the sound of her sister's
voice after so much silence.  She turned her head to see that
Akane was, indeed, awake again.

     "Eh?  What do you mean?"

     "Like this."  Akane demonstrated clenching her fists, but
in a rather peculiar way, Nabiki thought.  The muscles on her
forearms stood out oddly, more so than she would have thought
was needed.

     Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Akane
smiled a little and explained, "You see, the idea is to force
blood through your hands using the big muscles of your forearms.
Don't you do something similar when you're sitting down for a
while with your legs?"

     "Yes, but my ankles aren't usually tied with rope."

     Akane made a movement that might have been a shrug.  "It
helps."

     Nabiki turned away again and decided to try Akane's
suggestion.  She felt a little warmer afterwards, so maybe it
wasn't all nonsense.  A movement out of the corner of her eye
caught her attention.

     "Ranma!" shrieked Akane.  "Ranma!"

     Ranma jerked, and Cologne bounced over to confront Akane.
"Be quiet, girl," she said, and quickly touched the bound girl.

     Akane yelled back at Cologne, but Nabiki was amazed to hear
only silence.  Cologne smiled grimly, then narrowed her eyes in
thought.  She moved over in front of Nabiki, who quickly said,
"I'll be quiet."

     Cologne's gaze narrowed further, her eyes becoming slits,
until finally she shook her head.  "I'm afraid I don't trust
you, girl."  Like a snake striking she reached out, and Nabiki
felt a vague coldness wash over her as whatever it was took
effect.  Immediately she tried to speak, but try as she might
she could not get her voice to function.  Cologne gave her a
satisfied look and turned her attention to the now-stirring boy.

     

     

     Ranma awoke with a splitting headache.  'That's funny, I
don't remember Akane...'  His thought trailed off there as he
remembered Mousse in the Nekohanten.

     He quickly took stock of his situation.  Head, reasonably
clear now, though he still felt a bit rocky.  Body, male.  Hands
and feet... out of action.  Briefly he strained, but he could
get no leverage, and there seemed to be no give in his bonds.
He was at least lying on something soft... a futon, perhaps.  He
opened his eyes.

     Light stabbed at him, and he blinked tears out of his eyes.
Soon they adjusted, and he saw that he was lying on a futon in
the middle of some large enclosed space, and that Cologne was
standing directly in his line of vision.

     "Ah, you are awake at last," she said.

     Ranma tried to speak, but only uttered an incoherent croak.
He hawked to moisten his throat, and tried again.

     

     

     Nabiki's heart thumped when she heard Ranma try to speak.
She saw Cologne smile at Ranma's attempts to talk, and silently
pledged Bad Things against the old matriarch.  Bad Things,
because at the moment she couldn't think of anything bad enough,
and she shied away from the thought of death... if only because
she couldn't think of anyone who would do her the favour of
slipping a knife into the old bat.  Or anyone who could, anyway.

     Eventually Ranma got his voice under control.  "Old
ghoul..." he croaked.  "What is it this time?"  His voice was
improving with use.  "You got some stupid plot to smuggle me off
to China, where I'll live with Shampoo in that rotten village of
yours, happily ever after?  You must be stupid if you think
that'll work."  He struggled against his bonds again.  "It won't
work!  You stupid old bag, there's nothing you can do that will
hold me!"

     Cologne laughed without humour, a chilling sound.  "Young
Ranma, how brave... how little you know.  I am not my
granddaughter.  I have at my beck and call the techniques of
three thousand years of the history of the Joketsuzoku.  Surely
you have not forgotten the time that Shampoo washed Akane's
hair?"

     Nabiki felt her face go clammy and cold at the depth of her
shock.  How could she forget the time that Akane had been unable
to remember Ranma's name, even after being introduced to him?
It had seemed funny at the time, but now the memory chilled her
to her bones.

     "Ah, I see that you do.  Rest assured, young Ranma, that I
am far more practiced in these techniques than Shampoo."

     "Mousse," said Ranma in realization.

     "Indeed."  She nodded to Shampoo, who got down from her
perch on her stack of pallets and walked in the direction of the
warehouse's door.  Turning back to face Ranma, she smiled
broadly.  "But, I would not do such a thing; to do so would be
to destroy that which we must have.  Do you think you could have
stood against me, Ranma, if I had decided to control you in that
way over a year ago?  True, you have grown to the point where
you can now resist me, but then you were a babe in arms.  Still
you are so naiive that..."  Her voice trailed off as she shook
her head.

     Eventually Ranma asked in confusion, "What?"

     Cologne just chuckled grimly.  "Ranma my child, why is it,
do you think, that I went to the trouble of training you?"

     "Because I was the instrument for your revenge on
Happousai," shot back Ranma.

     Nabiki took a breath in surprise.  For the second time in a
week, her perceptions of Ranma were turned upside down in an
instant.  The possibility of such a thing had never occurred to
her, but now that it was raised she found it taking root in the
fertile soil of her mind.

     Cologne had stopped laughing.  "Well, well, young Ranma,
maybe there's more to you than even I suspected.  Then perhaps
you understand why you are safe in my hands... for the moment."

     Ranma snorted.  "Sure I am," he said, his voice heavy with
sarcasm.  "I mean, how could I have missed it?  My friends do
this *all* the time."

     "Who said anything about friends?... Son-in-law.  I simply
said that you are safe."

     

     

     Ranma shook his head in confusion.  He would never admit it
to Cologne, but the line about her revenge on Happousai had come
in a momentary flash of insight.  Still, from the way she had
reacted, he must have hit pretty close to the mark.  "Why the
hell don't you just get to the point, old ghoul?" he asked at
last.

     "My, how direct.  Your mother would be ashamed of you,
Ranma.  How un-Japanese."

     Ranma fumed.  "You're a fine one to talk... a back-woods
Chinese, brought up in such a hick town that you think your
stupid laws apply to everyone else.  Well I've got news for you,
you wrinkled old bat.  The law of the *mighty* Joketsuzoku stops
about a ten miles away from that smelly little village you call
home."

     Cologne laughed appreciatively.  "Well, well, at last you
grow."  She walked around him until she was between him and the
girls.  "Or maybe you slipped, and we saw a glimpse of the
honnin... the true Ranma?"

     Ranma grunted.  "Let me go, you wrinkled old crone.  Where
have you got Akane?"

     His answer was a stinging blow to his bound legs that spun
him around on the futon.  Now facing the other way he saw both
Nabiki and Akane, each tied spreadeagled to shipping pallets.
Akane was mouthing his name, screaming silently.

     "What've you done to them, ghoul?!"

     "Just a little pressure point, boy.  Nothing permanent.
But note, above them."

     Following Cologne's pointing finger, Ranma saw two barrels
tied to the wall above the girls' heads.  They, too, tilted
their heads back curiously.  The barrels were difficult to see
in the dim half-light, outside the pool of light cast in the
immediate area as they were, but they seemed to be made from
wood and were unlabelled.

     "Those barrels contain water picked at random from the
springs at Jusenkyou.  All that is needed is a pull on this
rope, or a well-thrown object, and..."

     Nabiki gaped in horror, but it was the resignation in
Akane's face that drove a spike through Ranma's heart.

     "What do you want, kuso baba?" he asked resignedly.

     "I merely ask that you impregnate Shampoo and two others."

     "WHAT?!!"  Ranma stared at Cologne in utter disbelief.

     "Get her pregnant."

     Ranma glanced at Akane, who was silently pleading with him,
shaking her head no.  "Why should I?" he asked.  Nabiki looked
more thoughtful, he noticed.

     Cologne shook her head in exasperation.  "You are the most
*infuriating* male!  Why do you think our marriage laws are the
way they are?  For the good of the tribe!"

     "So?"

     "I can't force you to come back to the village, and even if
I did you'd probably wreck it.  I acknowledge this.  But we want
your blood, young Saotome.  The blood of the Joketsuzoku must be
strengthened; our survival depends on it.  If you impregnate
three Amazon girls, that will be sufficient and we will leave
you and yours alone."

     Ranma's stomach turned.  "Why should I care?"

     Cologne's eyes narrowed dangerously.  "Because if you do
not, both of these girls will take a bath," she said, her voice
heavy with meneace.

     "Kuso babaaaa!"  He began struggling against his bonds once
again, heedless of the possibility of hurting himself.  His head
began to swim as his struggles caused skilfully-placed knots in
his rope harness to begin to squeeze shut the jugular veins in
his neck.

     "Shampoo."

     Another barrel appeared in his vision.  Almost
automatically he attempted to decipher the writing on its
side...

     "If you do this simple thing, Saotome Ranma, we will also
give you this.  Nanniichuan."

     Ranma stopped his struggles the moment he realised that the
stuff of his dreams was within easy reach.  His head quickly
cleared.

     The water of the Nanniichuan, the spring of drowned man.
Immerse his head in that, and he would be permanently male once
again.  Never again to change into a female at the most
inopportune time, never having to worry about...

     He was tempted.  Very tempted.

     "Three, you say?" he asked, looking at Cologne.  She nodded
slowly, and for a time Ranma lay still, gazing into space,
thinking.

     

     

     Akane watched Ranma as he considered Cologne's offer.  She
was utterly horrified that he was even considering it.  How
could he even entertain the idea?  He was hers!  Not Shampoo's!

     Then Ranma lifted his head again, looking at Cologne.  He
shook his head, and spoke.  "I can't."

     Relief filled Akane, but Cologne interrupted Ranma.  "What
of your fiancee Akane?  Will you condemn her to the life of a
Jusenkyou curse?  And Nabiki?  Will you bear responsibility for
that?"

     Akane would have laughed if she could.  She was already
cursed; what could Cologne do to her?  And Nabiki wouldn't mind
if she was cursed.  Well, she'd mind, in fact she'd make life
for those around her a living hell, but eventually she'd learn
to live with it.

     But her amusement at Cologne's pathetic threat slowly
turned to horror once again as it appeared as though Ranma was
giving the matter serious thought.

     

     

     Ranma pondered his situation.  Cologne's threat of cursing
Akane and Nabiki was almost a non-issue; Akane was already
cursed and Nabiki could learn to live with it.  His mind
automatically dismissed the threat as a mere tactic.

     The real question was, what would the Chinese do if he
refused again?  At the moment, the three of them were completely
at the mercy of Cologne, and he doubted that the old bad would
simply walk away if he still said "no" after she had smashed the
casks onto the girls.

     No, having gone this far, they could not fail.  If he
refused still, the next step would be to threaten the girls with
knives or something even worse.

     He had no option but to agree.

     His stomach turned at the thought.  Shampoo?  Two other
Amazon girls as well?

     *Impregnate*?

     No.  He couldn't do it.  He craned his head to look over at
Shampoo, seeing how she filled out her dress, the shapely curves
that were the exemplar of beauty.  Well, according to some,
anyway.

     But... *impregnate*.  Something inside him shrivelled at
the thought.  He looked back to Akane, who was looking at him
worriedly, and he felt warm inside.  Yes, with Akane.  But not
Shampoo, or some other random Amazon bimbo.

     He turned his mind to his dilemma.  Well, not much of a
dilemma, actually.  He had to get free, and whoever had tied him
up was an expert.  Therefore, he had to agree.

     He had no choice.  Looking into Akane's eyes, he said, "I'm
sorry, Akane."  'I'm sorry for making you believe that I'm about
to betray you,' he finished in his mind.  Her silent reaction
tore at his heart.

     "You agree, then?" asked Cologne.

     Ranma nodded.  "Yes.  Kuso baba."  He practically spat the
last words; no acting was required to put the necessary venom
into his voice.

     "Do you give your word of honour?"

     Ranma closed his eyes.  To give his word of honour with no
intention of keeping it... something his father had done every
day, it seemed.  He had sworn long ago never to become like his
father, and this would be the first step along that road.  The
road to corruption.

     And after fighting all this time since coming to the Tendou
home to keep his honour intact despite the impossible situation
his father had put him into, it almost made him sick to just
casually break his word.

     "There is nothing of honour in this, old ghoul," he said,
try to avoid the issue.

     "Maybe, young Ranma.  But before I release you, you will
swear to me that you will follow through with this deal."

     "What if I don't, old ghoul?"

     Cologne smiled, a ghastly sight.  "I'm sure you will have
worked this out already, young Ranma.  If the threat of a
dousing those you love most in the waters of Jusenkyou is not
sufficient to motivate you, perhaps you will yield to...
other... persuasions."

     It was as Ranma had feared.  Closing his eyes again, he
tried to think of a way to prevent what he was about to do, but
he could think of nothing.  It came down to, which was more
important?  Breaking his word, or betraying Akane?  Once again
he told himself that the price that Cologne was asking did not
seem that high, but once again he felt something inside himself
shrivel at the thought.  He sighed.  He had no option.

     Still with eyes closed, he nodded.  "I give my word."

     He opened his eyes at the sound of creaking wood; Akane was
struggling against her bonds, her arms and neck corded with
strain, her face red.  Her expression was of furious betrayal.
He didn't want to think about the imprecations she appeared to
be shouting.

     Cologne smiled and nodded to Shampoo.

     Shampoo seemed to jump to life.  She hopped down off her
perch and, smiling, stepped over to Ranma , and pulled out a
knife.  Using it to cut his bonds, she then stepped back and
shucked off her dress and panties.

     

     

     Akane watched in despair as Ranma struggled out of the
ropes.  She couldn't understand why he had given in.  Why?
*Why*?

     Tears began to blur her vision as she saw him roll off the
futon, shaking loose pieces of rope and stretching to work the
kinks out of his muscles.  Shampoo lay down on the futon and
wriggled luxuriously in anticipation, her breasts gainaxing
gently as she moved.  Akane couldn't really identify her own
feelings at this point:  Betrayal, yes, and anger at the Chinese
girl and Cologne... but something else, an unutterable sadness
that she would no longer share with Ranma something that she had
been thinking of, maybe a little, for a little while now.
Particularly since they had pledged their love to each other.

     She shook her head sharply in a vain attempt to clear her
watering eyes, but her tears would not stop.  Even though the
price that Cologne was extracting was not really all that high
in any objective sense, she could not stop her tears.  Knowing
it was useless since she could make no noise, she asked the
question anyway.  "Ranma... why?"

     

     

     Ranma looked up at Akane at the vague croak.  For some
reason it filled him with sadness to see her slumped in defeat
against her bonds.  He met her sad eyes and tried to project
reassurance across the gap separating them even as he continued
to work the kinks from his muscles.  He quickly turned away
again, though, since he didn't want to give the game away just
yet.  He turned to Shampoo, then looked over at where Cologne
squatted in the dim half-light away from the main scene of the
action.  "Why does it have to be here?" he asked the old woman
angrily.  "Can't we have some privacy?  And why does it have to
be in front of Akane?  ...and Nabiki, you old bat?"

     Cologne stirred, a squat shadow without detail, difficult
to see against the glare of the light overhead illuminating the
area around the futon.  "You will do it here and now.  If you
have privacy, young Ranma, how do I know you will carry out the
bargain?

     "To be sure, youth, this is only a beginning.  It is
unlikely that Shampoo will become pregnant tonight.  You will
have to do it again, and again, until we are certain that
Shampoo and the others are actually pregnant.  Only then will we
leave you in peace.  But tonight is your pledge of commitment,
boy.  By doing what you do, before witnesses, you commit
yourself to this course of action.  After this I might consider
trusting you, boy.  But for tonight, until the deed is done, I
will stand over you and keep those you love most in the world
hostage against your good behaviour."

     Ranma blinked, not having expected Cologne's
loquaciousness.  He nodded his understanding and turned back to
Shampoo.

     "Wo ai ni," she said seductively, beckoning to him.

     He knelt near her, out of her reach but very close.
Gathering his commitment and the "soul of ice," he quickly
turned his head to his fiancee in truth, Akane.  "I'm sorry," he
said.

     Akane nodded, then briefly looked up at the barrel over her
head.  'That's okay,' she mouthed.  Glancing at Nabiki, he saw
her looking up at the barrel over her head, her expression
unreadable from this angle.  Silently he mouthed at her upturned
chin, 'Sorry, Nabiki,' and turned back to Shampoo.

     'Soul of ice.  Total commitment,' he told himself before
pulling his shirt over his head, casting himself into the abyss.

     

     *    *    *

     

     Ranma removed his red silk shirt and tossed it with seeming
spiteful anger into Shampoo's face.  She pulled it from her
face, smiling, but as she did so Ranma's hand crashed into her
head, knocking her instantly unconscious.

     In that same moment two blurs flew out of the darkness
where Cologne had been and crashed into the barrels over the
girls' heads.  Ranma ignored the sound of splashing water,
instead jumping out of the light into the large, dimly-lit
expanse of the bulk of the warehouse.  A barrier created only by
the pool of light illuminating the area where the little drama
had been played out, he nevertheless felt much more secure now
that Cologne's sight advantage over him was not quite so great.

     Cologne had not moved from her location, however.  Seeing
her ready two shuriken, he scrambled to distract her in time.
"Moukou Takabisha!"

     The hastily prepared ki projectile missed its target,
impacting instead on the fragile tin wall of the building and
punching a hole in it.  Still, she had to dodge, and that gave
Ranma sufficient time to reach her.

     Once again the battle was joined.  They traded attacks,
each failing to get in a disabling blow.  The fight soon settled
down into a kind of mobile stasis, in which moves were
constantly being made but no particular advantage was being
attained.

     "So, son-in-law, you give your word, do you?"

     Ranma felt anger leak past his control and he struggled to
contain it, but in that same moment a stunning blow crashed into
his chest.  Slowed now, Cologne landed a series of attacks on
him which were intended to be disabling, some aimed at pressure
points, but he managed to deflect them just enough that they did
not put him out of the fight.

     They still hurt, though.  A lot.

     Ranma surveyed his options.  Hiryuu shouten ha wasn't an
option; Cologne was remaining calm, in fact she seemed to be
gaining confidence as they fought.  Just for form's sake he
threw another moukou takabisha, but Cologne dodged it easily.
He couldn't do either of Ryouga's moves this time; he didn't
have time to get depressed and he'd never learned that blasting
point thing of his, bakusai tenketsu.

     He was losing.  He could feel his strength draining away as
he fought.  Cologne might not have been able to get a
particularly vital spot, but the accumulated effects of near-
misses were beginning to take their toll.

     The loud groaning of timber distracted him for a moment,
and glanced in Akane's direction just in time to see a large man
dressed in what remained of Akane's clothes shaking off chunks
of wood and yanking off clinging rope.  His impulse was to yell
at Akane to stay out of it, but that would just alert Cologne to
her -- his -- presence, and maybe Akane would be able to
distract the old bat just enough to....

     Stars filled his vision as Cologne got him a good one just
in time so she could take on Akane without distractions.

     "Don't bother, girl," she said to the male Akane.  "Even if
you'd got used to that body and trained it, you wouldn't have a
*chance* against me."

     Akane's only response was to toss a chunk of the blue-
painted, reddish timber in Cologne's direction at warp speed.
The old woman dodged easily, using the sudden rain of timber as
stepping stones, taunting Akane.

     Ranma struggled to stand straight even as his mind fought
to throw off the fog caused by Cologne's almost-disabling blow.
He was trying to remember, there was something that Cologne was
afraid of, something that would give him victory...

     Cologne finished playing with Akane and casually batted her
to the ground with her stick as the solution came to Ranma.
Happousai... or rather, that the old man had done earlier.  Why
hadn't he gone into the Neko-ken?  There had been more than
enough cats, but... he remembered the way one of them had
reminded him of Akane.  The fear of cats had receded then.

     Perhaps, then, the Neko-ken *was* in fact like other animal
moves and not mystical or founded in insanity as he had thought
before.  Perhaps, he thought with hope soaring up within his
heart, it was merely extremely difficult, and extreme measures
were required to force the trainee to access it... the pit of
cats forcing the trainee to develop the technique or die.  Maybe
the Neko-ken itself was a valid technique, and the fact that he
used it exclusively when driven out of his mind by cats simple a
case of association?

     If that was the case, then, he should be able to access the
Neko-ken without being prompted by cats.  At all times
previously, he had resorted to it from being frightened.  Scared
out of his wits, the Neko-ken the only escape from terrifying
reality.  But how much of his behaviour in the neko-ken was
because he was scared for his life?  Bouyed by hope, knowing
that he had to get this right or he would be forced to do
Cologne's bidding anyway, he dove once more into the fray.
picking up the fight with renewed confidence.  He had the old
woman beaten, she just didn't know it yet....

     Ranma reached inside himself.  Each time he attacked, he
reached for the feeling of Cat.  Reached for the pure freedom
and effortless power of his Neko-ken, the cat-fist, searching
for a well of power.  As with other "animal" techniques, he
tried to imagine himself as...

     Cologne's stick came directly at his head.  Instinctively
he parried, claws out, and waited for his assailant's next
attack, and when it came he parried once again almost without
thought.  Shreds of her stick exploded into the air and settled
to the ground.  He smiled, exulting.  He had it!  He waited for
he old bat's next attack.

     But the next attack never came.  Cologne stood staring at
him, her eyes wide.  She tossed the remains of her stick at him,
the point a deadly arrow aimed for his heart.  But again he
automatically whipped at it with his hand, and this time he saw
the claw-shaped blades of ki extending from his fingers glowing
briefly white as they met the speeding stick and turned it into
wood shavings.  Ranma leaped into the attack, but Cologne jumped
clear.

     Then she chuckled, lowering her guard.  "Well, well.  The
true neko-ken at last.  I acknowledge defeat."

     Ranma shook his head.  It was over?  Cautiously he let go
the well within himself he had found, straightening into a more
normal defensive stance.  "What?"

     "I did not get to be three hundred years old by fighting a
battle I cannot win, boy.  I suggest you take the Tendou girls
and go."

     Ranma looked over at the brightly-lit part of the warehouse
where he saw two men:  One still tied to one of the blue-painted
pallets and looking highly peeved; the other lying unconscious
on the floor near the untouched cask of Nanniichuan.

     Nanniichuan!  The cure!  Ranma's heart leapt, hoping that
at least *something* could be salvaged out of this mess.

     Cologne followed his gaze.  In a blur of motion she threw
something at the cask. It flew true and hit the cask of
Nanniichuan dead on, shattering the wood and sending water
flying everywhere.  Much of it ended up in the face of the
person still tied to the pallet, whom Ranma assumed had to be
Nabiki.  It all ended up on the floor, useless.

     "Thanks for nothing, ghoul," said Ranma, spiteful in his
disappointment.

     "Be grateful I do not pledge vengeance on you and yours,
Saotome Ranma," said Cologne in a cold voice.  "Go now."

     

     *    *    *

     

     "Great.  I'm a *guy*.  Thanks a *lot*, Ranma."

     Nabiki, once again in female form, and Ranma, who was
carrying Akane piggy-back, were returning to the dojo after
finding some hot water.  Ranma checked Nabiki's expression as
she walked next to him to see that it matched her voice:
Peeved.

     Snorting, he said, "Yeah, and I become a girl.  Not real
funny, is it Nabiki-*oneechan*?"

     Akane cuffed Ranma1 on the back of his head.  "Be nice to
my sister," she said before returning her arm to holding herself
upright on his back.  She liked the way he felt against herself,
carrying her this way.

     There was no reply except for a scuffing sound as Nabiki
kicked the pavement.  She knew Ranma was right.  The situation
wasn't at all funny when she, too, was cursed.

     "Why the hell didn't you just fuck the girl and get it over
with?" Nabiki asked at last.  "Would that have been so bad?"

     "Yes!" yelled Akane at her sister.

     Ranma kept stern control over his temper, though Akane
yelling in his ear didn't help.  Nabiki had been getting on his
nerves for the whole trip back from the warehouse in the docks
district back to Nerima, and now that they were on the homeward
stretch so to speak he had just about had enough.  "Yes, as a
matter of fact it would.  You saw Akane's face."

     Akane hugged him impulsively, kissing his cheek from
behind.  "That's a very nice thing to say, Ranma," she said
appreciatively.  Ranma made choking sounds until he finally
managed to get one hand up and pull Akane's arms from around his
neck.  They continued in silence, Akane laying her head against
Ranma's.

     This time the silence lasted longer, until they turned into
the street leading to the Tendou home.  "I guess it's not so
bad," said Nabiki.  "At least I don't turn into a cat.  Or a
pig.  I'm gonna need a whole new wardrobe!"

     "Yeah, well, you can afford it."

     Nabiki signed and nodded.  "That I can."  She smiled.
"That calendar looks like being one of the better ideas I've
ever had.  Say, Ranma, whadda ya say to another one?"

     The sudden splash of water caught them all by surprise.
Ranma simply sighed at being caught yet again by the old lady
who liked to "wash her pavement", but Nabiki was looking at
herself at first in horror, then in puzzlement.

     Ranma soon caught on.  He looked at her oddly.  "How come
you're still a girl?" he asked the dripping Nabiki.

     Nabiki's puzzlement gave way to an unreadable combination
of outrage, disbelief, and humour.  Finally humour won and she
began to chuckle, then laugh, shaking her head even as they
continued to walk the final steps to the Tendou home.

     "Nabiki-oneechan?  What's wrong?" asked Akane.  She blew
water off her nose, then realised what she had done.  "What
the...?"

     Nabiki's jaw dropped as she realised that Akane, too, had
got wet and yet she was still human... and still female.  Ranma
turned his head in disbelief and practically dropped Akane on
the ground.

     "Akane!" he cried as he hugged her to himself.  "You're
cured!"

     Akane pressed her hands to herself, then broke down and
cried in relief.

     "Well well well, looks like Cologne outsmarted herself this
time," said Nabiki.  "Not only did she use *instant*
Nanniichuan, but it seems to have released the binding of
Shampoo's curse to Akane."  She chuckled nastily.  "I wonder how
much she'd pay to know that?"

     Ranma looked up from Akane and said, "Don't bother, Nabiki.
She'll work it out next time Shampoo gets wet."

     Akane looked up in surprise, then joined her sister in
laughter.  Ranma helped her to her feet and the three went into
the grounds of the dojo.

     "Tadaima!"

     

     *    *    *

     

     E P I L O G U E

     

     *    *    *

     

     The dojo echoed to the grunts of exercise as Ranma led his
class through a series of basic forms.  Skill levels in the
class varied, but all were enthusiastic and, it would be fair to
say, more interested in the teacher than in what he taught.

     Akane practiced the forms, concentrating on Ranma's advice
to her before the class began:  Concentrate on flow, precision,
and speed; power will take care of itself.

     Ranma had become much easier to deal with recently, she
mused.  Maybe it was because they had finally admitted their
love for each other.  Whatever the reason, she was feeling
confident that when the time was right, they would marry.  For
the moment, however, she was happy to date with him like a
normal teenage girl, even though every now and again she wished
she could repeat that night when Ranma had slept with her.
Other nights she found herself thinking of what it would have
been like if she had been in Shampoo's place... and Ranma hadn't
fought...

     Maybe she'd ask him about it tonight.  She smiled at the
thought.

     Ukyou welcomed the chance to hone her unarmed combat
skills, not that she had any choice.  Ranma took the business of
being her big brother pretty seriously, even though they were
only weeks apart in age, and he had definite ideas about his
"little sister" being able to protect herself even without her
very effective but admittedly sometimes-awkward combat spatula.

     It was pretty annoying, really, she mused to herself as she
went through the katas in time with Ranma's movements.  She was
still convinced that he was simply going through with the
wedding for honour's sake, and it was really her that he truly
loved.  She tried to give him every encouragement to make their
relationship more intimate, but he remained annoyingly ignorant
of the signals she was sending to him.

     "Halt!"

     Nabiki stretched, relieving her slightly-overworked muscles
and coincidentally giving Ranma a shot of her profile.  She was
tremendously proud of her breasts, she felt them to be her best
feature.  She was certain Ranma knew that too, because he always
changed the subject or just stumbled awkwardly over his words
whenever she tried to press him on matters sexual.  Even if she
couldn't have him, she could try to get him and her sister
together so she could share the experience vicariously, couldn't
she?

     And besides, walking in on the bath on him was fun; so were
the other things she did to him.  She smiled to herself.  Maybe
one day he'd get the hint.

     Kasumi's voice floating across the yard from the house
brought evening practice to a grinding halt.  "Minna!  Yuu-
gohaaan!"

     

     

     

     

     

     --------------------------------

     AUTHOR'S RAMBLE

     

     Well, there it is.  After eighteen months, Nekophobia is
finally complete.

     In a way I regret its passing, but I know that I have
become stale on this project and I hope that this final part
lives up to people's hopes for the finale.

     A large number of people have helped me at various points
during this project.  There are too many to list in full, but I
want to thank in particular Chris Jones, Bob Barnes, Joseph
"Ashira" Kohle, Brad Jones, Gary Kleppe, TJ, and Kun-chan for
their commentary at various points during the production of
Nekophobia.  To those not mentioned, my apologies and thank you
for your commentary and assistance.

     Nekophobia was my first 'fic, and I learned a lot about
what to do and what not to do during its production.  I've still
got *lots* to learn, of course, but I like to think I'm a better
writer now than I was when I started.

     

     Thank you for sticking with me.  Now, for something new.

     

     David Eddy

     Melbourne, Australia    1 August, 1998