In her twenty-one years on the planet, there were an increasing number of days where Shampoo felt twice her own age. From a young age, she had been raised with the expectation of one day succeeding Great-Grandmother (who was certainly a bit further up the genetic chain than merely two generations at nearly a half-millennia in age) as one of the sitting members of the Council of Elders, and most likely, High Elder of the Joketsuzoku.

Even she, a warrior of great repute, had to admit that she felt a supreme weight on her shoulders that some days seemed like it would threaten to suffocate her.

She benefitted, to some degree, from the proximity of her people to China's turmoil. Her mother had been born in the dying days of the Qing Dynasty, and had come of age in a time of warlordism and struggle. Her mother had idolized Sun Yat-sen, much to the consternation of the Elders. To learn from President Sun's example of Three Principles was the paramount knowledge her mother parted on her.

Shampoo had never known life under the Kuomintang, as by the time of her birth in 1966, China had been firmly under the boot of Mao Tse-tung and the Communist Party. She recalled very little of her first interactions with the Reds beyond briefly visiting the Han lands as a child. But stories of the Reds invading the Qinghai valley on their way to bloody themselves by conquering Tibet were often told by some of the older warriors in the tribe who had been baptized in the crucible of that skirmish.

When she had gone to the Han lands again in the mid-1980s as a student of engineering, she had been decidedly unimpressed at how dreary the heart of Communist China seemed to be.

But beyond those experiences of her own and those of her mother, Shampoo had learned well from her Grandmother and Great-Grandmother.

Grandmother's weary nature towards Westerners, and her later-in-life hostility towards institutional westernization had taught her to remain weary of things that could threaten the way of her peoples- but Great-Grandmother had been the greatest inspiration of all.

Great-Grandmother's birth was... shrouded in more mystery than Shampoo could have thought or expected. Often she when asked she would give her raspy laugh and say, "Once you pass 300, the years stop mattering, my child."

Even at well over 300, this would put her nearly old enough to remember the fall of the Ming Dynasty and the rise of the Qing- and this alone was the reason why her Great-Grandmother, despite the blustering militarism from some of her younger counterparts in the Council, remained as firmly in the camp of keeping themselves in the good graces of the people, and allowing the slow and steady march of time do the attrition for them, rather then sending good warriors to die for a hopeless cause.

No Elder wanted to deal with what the Emperors and Presidents of China did- even if the tribe was a fraction of it's historical zenith over three millennia ago.

Some days, Shampoo felt like the world was watching her, with great expectation, and anticipation of what was to come.

...

She awoke before dawn, as was customary for her. Morning training never ended, even in this strange, foreign land. Slipping down stairs from the second-floor apartment above the Nekohanten that housed her and Great-Grandmother, she stepped out into the Tokyo morning, bounding up onto rooftops, striding and leaping between them to shake the sleep from her muscles.

Landing in fanciful ways ranging from tucked rolls to one legged, Shampoo came to a stop on a tall apartment building in the very center of Nerima, peering out at the large, clustered metropole around her.

She missed home.

Urban life was not her forte- as nice as it could be to have access to material goods, it was far from what she enjoyed in life. Sometimes the quiet simplicity of the tribe, with the early mornings being dead silent were a blessing. Tokyo, even before dawn, was crawling with activity that could be heard from great distances. It made any sort of meditation or introspection an absolute nightmare to deal with.

Worse so-it reminded her of her time in Shanghai, the years of her life she genuinely wanted nothing to do with, particularly now that she was free of that nightmare.

But, she had to admit, there were certain perks. The tribe's methods of romance and love were so very sanitary; everyone was expected to procreate with someone else to provide the tribe with the warriors who would defend the land in the future against Han incursion- here in Japan, she could genuinely pursue love and romance without the expectation of permanently creating ties which bind, always a beautiful thing to go about doing.

As she returned to the Nekohanten, she entered the door, only to be greeted with the sight of someone she thought she'd long gotten away from.

Mousse.

Her long-time friend and rival turned around to face her, and Shampoo felt a sharp urge to bash the girl's skull in. By the measures of things that mattered, Shampoo was more attractive and more intelligent than Mousse- but Mousse was often praised as the 'paragon of feminine virtue' by the religious caste for her "radiant beauty" and "natural charm". Never mind that she was as blind as a bat and boy-crazy- no, Shampoo would never achieve that paragon of virtue because she was "too uncouth, out-spoken, and violent".

Shampoo only wished they lived in war times, then she wouldn't feel so inadequate in the department of womanhood.

"Mousse, what are you doing here?" Shampoo grumbled in Common, pushing past her frenemy and heading towards the kitchen.

"My mother and the Council have agreed to send me here to ensure you are properly punishing the outsider in accordance with the Kiss of Death."

"You know perfectly well that the High Elder has the right to suspend that sentence at her behest, you have no power here!"

"Be that as it may- the Council feels that I need to make reports back about the first members of the tribe to leave the Valley since the Red Flowers War," Mousse said with a smirk. "Particularly you, with your western idealism."

"My 'western ideals' guided China for the better part of a generation and then some, I'll thank you very much."

"And it was defeated by a bunch of mud-slinging degenerates living in the mountains!" Mousse rebutted haughtily. "Why you and your clan adhere to the so-called Three Principles, I do not understand. It is only through our ancient traditions that we may stand firm against the barbarians."

"If you think that is the way for our people to progress, then I truly pity you, Mousse." Shampoo said, shaking her head, and pushing through the kitchen door.

Cologne was sitting in a chair in the kitchen, drinking a pain-relief potion. She looked over at her great-granddaughter entering the kitchen and wryly smiled. "Ah, I see you've already met our newest employee."

"Yes, I have. How do you propose we keep training Ranma and the criminal if we have to deal with Little Miss Perfect out there?"

"It would be trivial for me to ensure none of Mousse's reports make it that far. Besides, she's blind as a bat without her glasses, we can work that to our favour."

"Hmpf," Shampoo said, folding her arms. "And if she ends up trying to kill Ranma?"

"It will be good training to see if Ranma can disarm and put down her opponent."

"You're enjoying our collective suffering, aren't you?"

Cologne let out a rasping, amused laugh in response. "She will be primarily helping out in the kitchen. I have more than enough waitresses, besides... she's been too coddled for too long." She explained.

"Point taken," Shampoo grumbled. "I'm going to go practice my Japanese. Call me when there's something to do."

...

"Yumiko, there's a lot about this that seems... muddled," Dr. Ishikawa looked at her notes carefully. "Let's start over from... after the Typhoon."

"After the Typhoon, well, I don't remember a whole awful lot from that time. I was ten when the hurricane hit, and our home was severely damaged- I distinctly remember finding my mother under a bunch of wooden splinters, and... she wasn't breathing, certainly," She exhaled deeply. "I wandered through town looking for supplies- and that was when I ran into my father. He convinced me that my family had all perished in the storm, and said he was here to take me somewhere safe."

"What about the rest of your aunts, uncles and cousins? Where were they?"

"The troupe was in Kyushu at the time. Strong winds and rough seas had shut down the ferry services running between Shikoku and Kyushu." Yumiko replied, thinking. "He took me to Tokyo, where we lived in this small apartment, one bed that he slept in, barely enough running water, and not much food. I didn't stay with Dad long, maybe a couple months. He didn't like how soft and... effeminate I was."

"Sounds like your father was obsessed with masculinity. It's not uncommon," Dr. Ishikawa contributed, scribbling something down. "What happened then?"

"He abandoned me with... him. I think he sold me. Happosai is, or was, the Grandmaster of Anything Goes Martial Arts. He lived in a seedier part of Tokyo. I spent six years living under the aegis of the master, being subjected to... horrors, that I'd really rather forget. Things which would earn quite a heavy prison sentence for him. Either way- it was there I met the Tendos."

"Kaori." Dr. Ishikawa said, and Yumiko nodded. "She was fifteen at the time we first met. After six long years of training and conspiring, Kaori and I got the better of the old man and... well, destroyed him. It was around this time that her father was disgraced and killed himself. Kaori and I moved in with her grandfather, who took us under his wing and started teaching us how to be actual human beings. But the years of abuse by Happosai still burned in our minds."

"And perhaps even, contributed to your psychosis?"

"Maybe." Yumiko said, looking at her hands intently.

"So you lived at the Tendou house?"

"Yes, I did," Yumiko nodded. "Kaori's mother was the sensei of her own Dojo- her family lineage goes back generations with martial arts, and she had built the Tendou Dojo with her own hands, her husband never cared. I was still a minor, but I could feel that Kaori and I had those early blossoming seedlings of romance, but both of us just felt so confused. Two years later, in the summer of 1969 or so, I started attending a local college, and performing onnagata again, though under a different alias than this one. Sadako Yamata."

"You told me a bit about Emiko, whom you met in this time- was she your only sexual partner in this time?"

"Oh, heavens no- there were others. Emiko was just the first one, we dated for about four or five months before we mutually agreed it wasn't going to work out. It was then that I had an encounter with Kaori and her girlfriend."

"Kaori and Mariko, two people I loved very dearly."

"Why did your relationship with them not work?" The therapist asked, glancing at her patient.

"Third wheel, I suppose. I also wasn't exactly brimming with self-confidence. I had started drinking and smoking, and had taken to self-harm a few times. I didn't want to cause Soun and Mariko distress all the time. Besides, it was in the spring of 1970 that I met... her."

"Ah, her." The doctor said, sighing. "Tell me a bit about your wife when you first met."

"It was a chance meeting, really. She was a student from Setagaya and we met at a show I had performed in. She was incredibly flirtatious, and she wrapped me around her little finger. She knew just how to stroke my ego and make me submit to her, as the time went on, we got more and more intimate, until we had sex for the first time the following year."

"And she got pregnant."

"Yes," Yumiko said. "She convinced me that she was allergic to condoms, and that we'd just have to try the rhythm method."

"Were you intoxicated at the time?"

"Yes, she knew just how to feed into my alcoholism, she'd bought me this very nice bottle of sake and then got me in bed."

"So she got pregnant, and then what?"

"I felt honor-bound to marry her. She came up with a very sad story that her father would disown her, or something like that, if I didn't do the honorable thing. Of course at the time, I was still ass-deep in my father and Happousai's rantings and ravings on honour, it didn't help that she stroked my ego all the time and insisted I was an honorable, strapping man and things like that."

Yumiko sighed deeply. "Soun and Mariko warned me about her, said she was manipulative and hostile- but I didn't listen, I, infact, got a little terse and upset at them for ruining what I saw as my happiness. I saw less and less of those two. Once Mariko died, Kaori and I had stopped speaking altogether, though by that point I was out of contact anyway."

"So, then, Ranma was born."

"Yes, I suppose it was around this time Nodoka set her plan into motion. She started me on a medicine regimen to deal with what she said was 'chronic illness' that she convinced me I had, and to deal with the alcoholism. I became rapidly addicted to that, and I'm not sure what it was, but it made me... befuddled and I had a hard time questioning her."

"And so the first four years went by... reasonably okay?"

"I guess you could say that. She barely let me around Ranma, saying she was worried Ranma would inherit my... questionable masculine traits, and my strange queerness. I don't remember what she was quoting, but it was some ancient custom that kept young princes away from their fathers and in the hands of their mothers or nursemaids."

"Your queerness isn't strange," Dr. Ishikawa said with a frown.

"I know, but this was the early 70s. It's amazing how much progress we've made in so many years."

"What happened in 1975?" Dr. Ishikawa asked, checking her notes.

"Nodoka convinced me that it was time to start teaching Ranma the art... to keep up the honor of the Saotome clan, and to keep up the honor of Anything Goes, now that the Master was gone."

"And she made you sign a seppuku contract before you left?"

"Yes. She insisted that it would keep me bound to honor and prevent the perversion from seeping back through. She gave me a very large supply of the 'medicine', and enough sake to drown a small nation, and sent me on my way with a child I had barely had contact with for years. I was in a constant alcohol and drug-infused haze, and I did a lot of regrettable things. Attempts I made to... compensate for my growing feelings of uncertainty, or lack of confidence in the plan Nodoka and I had made me even more dishonorable and evil."

The doctor nodded patiently as Yumiko stopped to take a drink of water.

"In my drunken ramblings, I had ended up in possession of a pamphlet, about a place called Jusenkyo. The Mystical Training Grounds of Sorrow. I dragged Ranma there unwillingly, and didn't listen to the Guide when he tried to explain to us why we shouldn't go cavorting around there. I fell into the Spring of Drowned Pious Man, and Ranma into the Spring of Drowned Girl."

Yumiko shook her head. "I did a great injustice to Ranma that day."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Regret cannot fix wounds, apology and good works can," The doctor replied matter-of-factly. "What happened after that?"

"I panicked, and threw myself into the Spring of Drowned Girl. Fortunately, it had been so soon since I was exposed to the curse magic that it simply... overwrote itself."

"And then you went to this... Amazon village?"

"Yes, yes, we ate their champion's food, got challenged to a duel, got arrested, things like that. I was punished for my dishonor and malevolence by being locked in this form and made to be intolerant of hot water. My skin can't handle it at all."

She nodded carefully. "When did you first start to question your wife's... plan?"

"Hard to say. Most of the most egregious stuff I did came immediately after we left. The Cat Fist technique was... probably three or so months after we left... and the Kuonjis, Ranma was... six or so? After we left for China, everything started to get far clearer to me, and I began to scale back exactly what kind of stuff I was doing to him. Jusenkyo was, perhaps, the last hurrah of my stupidity before my worldview came tumbling down and the curtains got parted or some other inspirational nonsense."

"Indeed," Dr. Ishikawa noted. "Based on the analysis I see here from Doctor Tofuu, it seems you've been under the influence of more than just alcohol and drugs. Clearly your wife has had access to something that's a little more powerful, as your brain shows signs of being modified by something that is beyond the simple scope of regular sciences."

"Magic?" Yumiko questioned, and Dr. Ishikawa shrugged. "It may be worth asking that Chinese Amazon Elder you know if she found anything when you were in their custody. It may reveal just the kind of depraved nonsense your wife was up to."

"One last thing, Yumiko," Dr. Ishikawa said, looking down. "It says here you listed that you had, at one point, suicidal thoughts? When was the last time you had those?"

"A year ago, while we were crossing China looking for training grounds like Jusenkyo. I had briefly considered it because I had run out of her medicine and sake- I suppose she didn't intend for us to be away more than a decade or so. In a hotel in Nanjing I briefly considered blowing my brains out, but didn't... I... don't know what would happen to Ranma if I was gone. I may not be a saint, but... I fear Nodoka."

Dr. Ishikawa nodded. "Have you ever told this to your child?"

"Not everything, I'd rather not dump all this baggage on a sixteen year old's shoulders. I have talked about some of the things that have happened, but not everything. If I could start all over again, I would... and never make such stupid mistakes."

"We all make mistakes, it just so happens you made more serious ones than most. The best thing you can do is be a good mother to your child. Ranma seems to have lacked both a mother and a father for many years, due to neglect and your own unending torment at the hands of an abusive spouse. Perhaps you and Kaori being a unit, and living in a house like that will... help them just as much as it helps you."

"I can only hope," Yumiko said with a sigh. She gently lifted herself off the couch and stood up. She bowed in thankfulness to the therapist. "Thank you for such an enlightened session, Dr. Ishikawa. See you next week?"

"Same time, same place, Yumiko. It was my pleasure."

As Yumiko left, Dr. Ishikawa sighed and sat back in her chair.

"Who ever this Nodoka person is, I hope she rots in a jail cell."

...

"Flight 101 from Honolulu to Tokyo is now disembarking at Gate 12," the female voice on the intercom intoned. The numberless Japanese tourists on the return from their holiday and a few Hawaiian and American tourists coming to visit Japan began to pour through the gate. Perhaps the strangest man in the set was a tanned Japanese man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and lei, his hair done up in a very strange caricature of native culture, and wearing a bizarre pair of red-framed sunglasses.

Everyone near him seemed a little perturbed.

The man grinned confidently and spotted a familiar face near the gate.

"Tatewaki!"

The pale, dark-haired samurai-wannabe blinked in surprise. "Father, is that you?!"

"Da very same, bruddah! You were right, my keikikane, a trip to Hawaii was just what I needed. My brain is very clear now and I'm ready to return to what I do best. I've got some great plans for de school now that I'm back. It will be great!"

"What's with the accent, Father?"

"I met this wonderful woman on the islands, her name was Phyllis. She enlightened me to da way of the Polynesian native. Like a breath of fresh air!"

Tatewaki watched his father push past him to the chauffeur, who seemed even more peturbed and confused. Tatewaki cleared his throat. "I'll catch up, Father. I've got something to do very quickly."

He watched his father's retreating form before walking over to a nearby payphone. Digging in his pockets for a some of the smaller yen coins, he deposited it into the coin slot and picked up the phone. After finagling with it to dial the number of the Tendou family home, the phone rang a few times before a female voice picked up.

"Tendou residence, Ranma speaking."

"Ranma Saotome!" Tatewaki exclaimed.

"Oh. Hello, Tatewaki. What do you need?"

"I wish to speak to Nabiki Tendou immediately, it is a matter most urgent."

"Uh, sure," Ranma said. Tatewaki could hear her calling to another room for Nabiki, before setting the phone down. A few moments passed before the sounds of someone picking the phone up could be heard.

"Kuno-baby? You don't usually call, what's wrong?"

"My... father has returned from his sabbatical to Hawaii, but he's not the same as he was. He's... different, and not in a good way. He's talking in some awful faux-Hawaiian accent and is dressed up like a caricature. He says he's got grand plans for the school."

"Oh that sounds unpleasant," Nabiki murmured. "Okay, thanks for the heads up, I will pass it on to Ranma, Akane and a few others. Did he elaborate at all on what he was planning?"

"No, but I am sure we'll know in due time," Tatewaki said with a sigh.

"Figures. Talk to you later." Nabiki said and the line went dead with a click. Tatewaki put the phone back on the reciever and rubbed his temples. The last thing he needed to add onto his already deranged sister was a deranged father. But Tatewaki knew he never had great luck. Begrudingly, he made his way back to the Kuno estate, being forced to hail a taxi once he found that his father had left him at the airport.

Not having him around was almost a pleasant experience.

Almost.

...

Cologne observed Yumiko carefully as she weaved her way in between tables full of horny office workers, dodging not only obstacles with weights attached to her ankles, but also the grazing hands of men trying to cop a good feel. It was a promising development, Cologne felt.

Returning to the kitchen in thought, she took in the sight of her third pet project. This one was in a far less proper state. Mousse was frantically flying around the kitchen, covered head to toe in splatters of noodle batter and some of the homemade sauce that Cologne had worked tirelessly to perfect through her life.

She pushed Mousse out of the way and quickly brought order to the kitchen before glaring at her new part-time chef with a critical eye.

"What have I told you about trying to take care of more than you're capable of?"

"I can hurt myself or cause a fire-but Elder, I'm more than capable of handling this! I was the-"

"Top marksman for six years straight, and the scout leader during the last survival trip. Yes, Mousse, I am more than aware of your skills. But you're clearly nowhere near where you need to be to run my kitchen. Should I send you out into the dining room and have the outsider do this? I'm sure she's more than capable of it."

Mousse peered out of the small window at the sexually aggressive customers and shook her head meekly.

"Good, now, I want you to watch what I do, and try not to screw it up."

Cologne went through the process of fulfilling the orders that Yumiko was bringing to her in a very quick and methodical pace. Where Mousse had been ricocheting from one thing to another trying to keep things from overcooking or burning, Cologne's methods almost seemed like a kata, they were smooth as glass.

After the dining hall closed, Cologne stopped, and gestured for Yumiko to close up. Customers soon found themselves being pushed out the door, having been relieved of some of their earnings, and Yumiko returned to the kitchen, sitting on a wooden stool and unlatching the weights from her ankles. The loud CLANG as the weights fell to the ground made Yumiko blink.

"How heavy were these things?"

"Half a ton," Cologne commented, grinning wryly. "Anyway, Mousse, did you see what I was doing?"

"It almost looked like a... kata of sorts. Mystifying," The bespectacled girl commented, tapping her finger to her chin in contemplation.

"Indeed," Cologne said. "Most things can be taken as a kata, particularly if it's one fluid motion. While the things I do at each station are not the same, the motions I take to get from place to place and the timings tend to all sync up with one another-this is an important thing to understand."

She made a gesture to Mousse, which the girl took as being dismissed, and she rapidly moved upstairs. Cologne glanced at Yumiko and then nodded.

"You did well today, outsider," Cologne said, before pulling up a chair and sitting down across from her. "There is hope for you yet. Your child, I have equipped them with the means to start learning how to channel their qi. In fact, I think what may generate some trust between you two can be given from me. I am going to teach you an ancient Amazon martial artist technique-and I will expect you to teach Ranma."

"Understood," Yumiko said with a nod.

"Good, now, let's begin." Cologne said with a smile, before procuring a bundle of firewood and a bag of chestnuts.