Chapter 7: When Weeds Choke the Blossoms

The first thing Ukyou noticed upon waking was that she wasn't in her futon.

An adolescence spent intermittently traveling alone meant that, inevitably, she'd had to spend some nights under the cover of bridges, atop level roofs, or holed up in vacant or abandoned buildings. It also meant that she'd typically carried just about everything she owned with her from place to place, so she'd long since developed a set of instincts to follow in such situations to ensure no one that found her would manage to make away with her things. Those instincts were somewhat delayed this time around, given that she'd been living in a stable apartment for over a year now, but the belatedly familiar texture and bulk of her old travel bedroll still caused her to stiffen ever-so-slightly, muscles subtly tensed, breathing shallow and controlled, eyes cautiously kept closed. In listening for any potential threats, though, she heard neither footsteps nor shifting clothes- only the sleep-slowed breath of another person about two arms' lengths from her, similarly prone, indicated she wasn't alone.

That was the first detail to jar her out of her defensive state. The second was that she didn't feel any holes in the men's pajamas she was wearing, or even much wear and tear at all. The third was the soreness in her arms: they were already shouting through her nerves their protests at being prepped for strenuous use so soon after the last taxing incident. Then she remembered the incident in question, as well as the events of the evening that'd followed, sighed, and peeked an eye open, tension bleeding away at the visual confirmation of her security. The plain off-white of her living room's ceiling stared back at her, dimly visible by the pittance of daylight leaking through the blinds, distinguished from her bedroom's ceiling both by its size and by the small, slender crack that'd been there since she'd moved in. Her gaze lingered on the imperfection as frustration settled into the same pit in her gut that apprehension had just vacated.

She understood that, realistically, she couldn't have been expected to stand up to an opponent that Ranma himself only barely defeated, and part of her accepted that. There was another part of her, though- a rooted and stubborn thing, cradled in the thick, tangled vines of ossified convictions -that refused to allow her the luxury of self-forgiveness, that told her she'd been tried last night and failed to measure up, again. Only this time, instead of failing to dole out vengeance to a boy who'd not actually deserved it, she'd failed to sufficiently defend that same boy from a clear and present threat to his life. In the face of lethality, unfettered by extraneous purposes, her family's style, which waffled between martial art and performing art, had served only to delay Naito. Not once had she found any opportunity to tangibly threaten him, and that fact had been gnawing greedily at her confidence as a fighter since last night.

Eventually she figured she'd let herself wallow uselessly for long enough and she tore her mind away from the subject. She tore her eyes from the crack as well, then found herself wishing she hadn't as they fell upon another major source of her consternation: the slumbering girl tucked into the other bedroll next to her. When Ukyou had suggested Ranma stay with her until the Naito situation got resolved to avoid endangering the non-martial artists at the Tendou dojo should an attack be made on the premises, she'd hoped to finally score some extensive time alone with him as a bonus. When Akane had insisted she join him, that idea had gone right out the window.

Even though it wasn't nearly as unpleasant a situation as it could be, her presence carried with it a number of little dissonances, both spoken and unspoken. For one, despite her efforts to hide it, Ukyou could tell she was still a bit uncomfortable around Konatsu. It showed in the marginal details, like the barely noticeable squaring of her shoulders whenever Konatsu talked, or the slight strain in her voice when she replied. That they both bore the weight of parents lost in their hearts was likely one of the only factors stifling further evidence.

Then there was the whole fiancées mess. The residual gravity of the circumstances helped keep their rivalry mostly peripheral, but that didn't eliminate it as a factor outright, as evidenced by their quabble over sleeping arrangements. It'd taken an exasperated and exhausted Ranma rolling his eyes, dragging Konatsu into the bedroom and promptly closing the door behind them to settle the matter, and even then their acceptance was only begrudging. On top of that, since she didn't have one of her own, Akane got to use Ranma's old bedroll, which undoubtedly carried hints of his smell despite having been washed since he last used it.

The most insidious little issue, though, was of a more oblique nature. Given that Akane, having lived in a huge house in the suburbs of Tokyo her whole life, had probably never slept in anything less accommodating than her bed, Ukyou had anticipated no small amount of discomfort and complaints from her. The former had showed up in spades, made apparent by the tight frown she'd donned while struggling to find repose on modest canvas and worn, firm tatami, but for whatever reason, the latter had been entirely absent. Ukyou had been preemptively relishing the opportunity to tease her for her dependence on creature comforts, and even though she knew it was ridiculous and more than a little petty, part of her was fundamentally irritated that she'd been denied her role as exactor of that tiny snippet of socioeconomic retribution.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head loll back to face the ceiling once more, rubbing at her forehead. The looming threat of a trained killer targeting Ranma was stressful enough by itself, and the last thing he needed was her and Akane fighting around him all day on top of that. Silently, she swore to herself she'd do her best to maintain the equanimous friendship they'd developed in recent months, despite the challenges this temporary living situation presented. She only hoped Akane could hold up her end of the peace as well.

"Ohhh yeah, right- right there…"

The low, guttural moan of Ranma's voice sounding through the door to her bedroom interrupted her thoughts and caused her to sit up out of confusion. Between her and the door Akane stirred as well, rubbing her eyes and adjusting her speckled pajamas. She looked at the door, then turned to Ukyou and asked, "What was-"

"Could you use a little more of that stuff? It's still a bit dry."

This time Konatsu's voice replied, almost too soft to be overheard and subtly husky with what Ukyou hoped was just sleep. "Of course."

A subtle pattern of sound, one Ukyou hadn't noticed wasn't part of the usual white noise from the street outside until it stopped, soon resumed, now wetter and more prominent than before. "Mmn, much better. Thanks, 'Natsu-chan, I didn't wanna have to do this by myself. Can't really get all the right spots that way."

Before Ukyou could even begin to picture what was going on beyond the door, Akane, who, if her stormy expression was anything to go on, had already done so, started disentangling herself from Ranma's bedroll. Bewildered and curious, Ukyou slid out from her own, and the two of them padded across the room.

"Y'know, for a martial artist 'specially, you've got some real soft ha-"

Akane slid the door open, rattling it in its track. She began to growl, "Ranm-uh?" but was caught by surprise by the sight that greeted her.

Konatsu and Ranma were sitting together (kneeling and cross-legged, respectively) on the adjacent futons that took up most of the floor space in the cramped bedroom, both facing away from the door. Konatsu's silky black curtain of unbound hair flowed down the back of her pale lilac nightgown while Ranma's unkempt pigtail, currently nearly as dark as Konatsu's hair, was draped over one shoulder. With a small container in one hand and the other on Ranma's back, she was spreading a generous dab of balm onto the flaking, mildly pink remnants of the burns on his arms, shoulders and torso.

The two of them started at Akane's entrance and craned their necks to find her and Ukyou at the door. Ranma was the first to recover. "Uh, mornin'?"

The poleaxed look that'd replaced the anger in Akane's expression was in turn replaced by a flat and tired glare. "Whatever. Good morning. Finish up and get your shirt back on already, will you? Even with Ucchan's skipping lunch today, we'll all have to be back in time to prep for dinner, so no slacking."

Ranma's lips curled into a sly, uneven smirk. "Considerin' it looks like you just got up, I don't think I'm the one that needs a lecture 'bout slacking."

Akane cocked a brow. "Consider giving me one and you'll have to call Nabiki yourself."

That turned his smirk into an equally skewed grimace as he turned away again, unfolding his legs and rising to his feet. "Fine, fine. Just close the door already, I gotta change my pants too."

Ukyou puzzled at that, given he was already wearing a pair of the same loose black pants he wore just about every day, but before she could mention it Akane asked, "What, with Konatsu in the room?"

Shrugging, Ranma began rummaging through his bulky travel pack, tossing extraneous supplies and articles of clothing onto the futon carelessly. "I ain't got nothin' she ain't seen before. Well, not right now, at least."

Konatsu gave Akane an appeasing smile. "It's alright. I have to prepare my things anyways." She then turned away from him, slid open the closet door and started gathering numerous pouches, straps and sheaths in her arms.

An odd look crept into Akane's features before she shook her head and slid the door closed. She then turned to Ukyou. "Oh, you, um… you do have a landline, right?"

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, she replied, "Downstairs, by the divider window." She didn't have to ask why Akane wanted to call her sister. There were only two reliable sources of esoteric information in Furinkan, and they were already planning on probing the other themselves. Whether or not they found anything relevant on their own errand (which, in this case, she sort of expected they would not), Nabiki's frightening manipulation skills would likely turn up something useful. If there were any leads to be skimmed from official records, databases, or hapless government employees, she'd find them. Akane thanked her and disappeared into the stairwell.

Just as Ukyou finished tying up the bedrolls, Ranma emerged from the bedroom. She almost failed to register the identity of the figure that appeared in her peripherals; his silhouette was so changed by the austere cut of his light olive Mao suit that, had she not seen him wear it once or twice before, she would have been startled by his presence. As it was, she still had to blink a couple times to reconcile the image of her defiantly untamed fiancé donning such stern garb.

"Getting into the spirit, Ran-chan?"

"Eh?" He looked at her owlishly, then looked down at his clothes, causing his cap, which was emblazoned with a bold red star, to dip slightly askew. "Oh! Nah, actually, didn't even think of that. I just needed somethin' formal-lookin'."

"To break into a building in?"

"Yeah," he said, as though she'd asked him if he used cups to drink out of, "to break into a buildin' in."

She shook her head, grinning. "You know you're gonna have to explain that one to me, smartass."

"Ain't all that complicated, really," he said, shrugging. "We're doin' this in broad daylight on a street that's usually got at least a few folks walkin' by. Who're they gonna get suspicious of, a guy that looks like he's out to do some important, legit business-type stuff or someone that came dressed to sneak around?"

His reasoning made sense now that she thought about it. It'd never been an aspect she'd had to consider herself, as the methods she'd developed on her own had been tailored to target unused buildings, often in low-population areas and pretty much always at night. It also stood to reason that the son of a master thief would know a number of unique tricks to avoid getting caught. Still, as sound as his explanation was… "Is that really the look for that, though?"

"What, too fancy?"

Her first impulse was to explain that he looked more like someone who wanted to start political theory debates with strangers than a businessman with a tight schedule, but she stifled it. "Nevermind. You look great, hon."

He shot back a smirk that mostly reached his eyes. "Don't I know it."

The sound of steps coming up the stairwell drew their attention, and when Akane reached the top his outfit caught hers. She cocked a brow. "A little on the nose, don't you think?"

"He says something formal'll draw less suspicion," Ukyou interjected.

Akane looked at her disbelievingly. "That's supposed to be formal?"

Gesturing indignantly towards himself, Ranma said, "Hey, this is formal enough! The collar's all tight an' chokey an' everything. I'm pretty sure that makes it at least business casual."

She scoffed. "Maybe, in China, twenty years ago! But here, in the time and place we do live in, people are just going to assume you're about to stand on a street corner and start quoting from a little red book." She folded her arms. "Don't you have any regular button-ups and slacks? A tie, even?"

He stuck out his tongue at that. "Ew, no, 'course not. Whaddaya take me for, a banker?"

"I refuse to believe even you don't own anything nicer than that." She gestured toward his suit offhandedly, almost condescendingly.

"I mean, yeah, but most of my really good clothes are for-" Abruptly, he froze, then closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, retreating from the subject. "Anyways. What'd Nabs say?"

Akane searched his features for a moment, then obliged. "She says she'll do it, but it'll cost you."

"'Course," he grumbled. "Alright, what's she chargin' for this one?"

Her brows raised over half-lidded eyes. "A session with 'Little Red'."

The meaning of her answer wasn't lost on Ukyou. 'Little Red' obviously referred to Ranma's cursed form, and there was only one kind of session Nabiki could want from him like that. Given that he would never agree to a photoshoot like that willingly and Nabiki undoubtedly knew it, this was likely her way of saying no. It was disappointing, but hopefully they'd turn up something at-

"Fine," he said, meeting Akane's eyes for a moment before looking away and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Whatever."

His reply caused her train of thought to jump its tracks so abruptly she nearly left her body. Almost equally baffling was Akane's reaction, or rather, her relative lack thereof: her mien showed annoyance, reluctance, and hints of some conflicted undercurrents, but there was no trace of the surprise she'd experienced herself. Somehow, she'd already known he'd accept, which itself brought up even more questions.

Before Ukyou regained enough control of her mouth to ask any, though, Konatsu emerged from the bedroom, wrapped in a crisp black komon striped vertically with winding flower stems and patterned with winter blossoms in pallid pink hues. As usual, the smooth folds betrayed no suggestion of the many weapons hidden on her person. She moved aside the doorway and gave a polite nod. "Ukyou-sama, Akane, the room is all yours. We'll meet you downstairs when you're ready to go."

Akane stood still for a fraction of a second, then thanked her and slipped into the small space. Ukyou, realizing she probably wasn't going to get any direct answers until after they'd run their errand, sighed and followed suit, closing the door behind her.

No sooner had it clicked shut than Akane began unbuttoning her pajama top, immediately spurring Ukyou to face the closet, turning her back on the other girl before starting on her own. Even though she'd been changing in the girls' locker room since she'd transferred to Furinkan High, being around other girls in various states of undress was still awkward for her at times. It was often saturated with the sense that she would be breaking some unspoken rule if she let her gaze wander too far beyond her locker, even though no one else seemed to be so anxious to abide. She largely attributed it to the many years she'd spent sectioned off with the boys and changing in nurse's offices for gym, which had left her uninoculated for this sort of experience, though she knew there was more to it than that.

Thankfully, Akane didn't seem to notice. Instead she spoke up, amusement tickling her tone. "So, are you gonna get all dressed up too?"

Ukyou let out a low chuckle and responded without turning around. "I've got less nice clothes than Ran-chan." She carefully folded her pajamas before putting them back in their drawer. "How 'bout you?"

"Well, when I packed, I didn't exactly plan on dressing to the nines to track down an assassin, so no. I was just gonna wear a sweater. Ranma will just have to be happy with two out of four."

"Two?"

"Yeah, him and Konatsu."

"Oh! Right, her too," she said, pulling on a pair of black leggings. "Sorry, I guess I just got so used to her wearing those day in 'n day out I stopped thinking of it as 'dressing up' for her."

There was a moment's pause before Akane responded. "Every day? Really?"

"Mmhm, just about. Ever since I finally convinced her it's ok to treat herself once in a while it's all she ever buys. Never needs help getting into 'em either. Between that and how her hair and makeup are always perfect I sometimes wonder if she's not the reincarnation of some hardcore yamato nadeshiko or something."

Akane hummed with a neutral tone. "That'd be a pretty big oversight if so."

Suddenly uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed, Ukyou said, "Really though, I think she does it all 'cause she feels like she has to. Like… there was this one morning where she couldn't find her usual lipstick, and she started panicking so bad I had to run to the shop two blocks down to get her another before she'd calm down." She shrugged even though they weren't facing each other and absently retrieved the next piece of her outfit. "Don't know if it's something her stepmom drilled into her or if she picked it up somewhere else, but it's like she doesn't think anyone will respect her if she's not perfect all the time."

The silence she received in response was unexpected, but still preferable enough to the alternative that Ukyou let it hang. It lasted ten long seconds before Akane spoke up again, and Ukyou could tell by the changing way her voice bounced in the tight space that she was turning to face her as she did. "Hey, can I ask you some-"

After silently reminding herself to keep her eyes at eye level, Ukyou turned, only to see a fully dressed Akane giving her an unsettling look. "Uh, yeah?"

Akane's eyes dipped down for a moment, then met hers again. "You do remember we're still on break, right?"

Confused, she looked down to where Akane'd looked. When she finally consciously registered that she'd been caught in the process of binding her breasts, it clicked. "Aw dammit, not again!"

"Not… again?"

Ukyou huffed, scowling at the tail end of her bindings before letting it drop from her hand. "Yeah, again. Time to time I catch myself doing this on days I don't have school, or even an appointment with a vendor. Half the time I don't realize I didn't have to until noon. Been happening… more'n usual lately." She turned around again and began undoing her work. "Don't ask why. Can't figure a reason for it myself, 'cept habit."

This time the silence stuck. Ukyou welcomed it, replacing her bindings where they belonged and rifling through her other drawers. Once she'd shrugged on one of her everyday tops, Akane left the room, leaving her to fiddle with her hair bow and giving her the space to think solely about what she could and should expect from their errand. Once she was otherwise ready, she held her bandolier in both hands, idly thumbing the thick leather as she stared through it. She chewed on her bottom lip until it got sore enough for her to notice herself doing it, then slowly placed it back on its peg, closed the closet door and left to join the others.

Outside, the stubborn remnants of the previous night's storm stewed, refusing to disperse but seemingly unable to find the strength to resume the tumult. So instead the swampy grey hung low, hiding more sky than it ceded, ambiguously signaling divergent futures of either sun or snow near-equally and making the quiet city below feel mildly purgatorial.

Ukyou attributed to the tepid gloom the unusual emptiness they'd found in the streets of Nerima, noting to herself that, were she not so tasked, she wouldn't be trodding through the puddles and patches of lingering snow herself. The lack of activity didn't particularly worry her; she tended to do just fine when the weather was dismal and cold. What she might've lost from the dearth of passers-by she made up for by way of those still braving the chill, who were now much more eager to warm their bellies and soothe their skin by the open grill. What did concern her was the humble two-story building the four of them had stopped in front of, for reasons she could only partially congeal into particulars.

Materially, the Nekohanten looked little worse for its owners' absence. Its pale, unblemished face glowed gently wherever sunlight graced it, the bright red overhang was still crisp, clean and inviting, and the imitation entrées in the display case by the door looked as appetizing as ever. The discord manifested from less tangible aspects: the total absence of sound coming from inside, the stale air trickling through the door, the way the settled noren seemed a static installation instead of low-resistance fabric. Ukyou was getting a sense of the restaurant that almost resembled a long-forgotten shrine more than a successful business whose owners and operators were on temporary leave.

Though she didn't let her demeanor betray that she was starting to get the creeps, she offhandedly asked Ranma, "You sure they're gonna have something useful? Just… lying around?"

"Cologne's got know-how on just about anything worth knowin', an' I'd be at least kinda surprised if she kept it all in her head alone," he replied, eyeing the restaurant instead of her. "'Sides, even if there's nothin' here bout the Naito there's gotta be something else we can use. That phoenix pill I got from her's the only reason I've still got all my skin after what I pulled in the park."

Ukyou nodded and, after a quick look around to ensure no one was watching, made to head through the slim alleyway to the left, but Ranma stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, hold up Ucchan. Lemme scope out the place first. I seriously doubt they'd take a vacation without puttin' up some nasty traps. The artifacts they got alone have got to be worth protectin'."

Konatsu perked up. "Oh! I could help with that!"

He grinned. "Yeah, sure. I guess if anyone would know their way 'round tripwires an' stuff, it'd be a kunoichi, right?" He took a knee right in front of the door and gestured down the alley. "Check the back an' I'll take care of the front. Between the two of us we should find 'em all no problem."

Konatsu obliged, disappearing to the other side of the Nekohanten, and Ukyou and Akane were treated to five minutes of watching Ranma intently perform ostensibly inane tests upon the building's front. He began by pressing an ear to the door and tapping softly along the bottom edges of its wooden frame, then repeated the process on the window. The tests that followed were increasingly oblique in purpose, involving more taps, some knocks, and the occasional shoving of snow through crevices. Ukyou soon gave up on trying to follow any of it and focused on watching for passers-by instead. Akane, for her part, seemed content to stare idly at the snow on nearby roofs roofs as it melted, sporadically directing hungry glances toward the fake display meals.

Eventually the sound of the front door opening drew their attentions. Konatsu stood within the threshold, looking down at Ranma, who was crouched over at her feet, apparently having been interrupted while running a leaf under the door. Unaffected, she said, "Okay, all clear!"

The sheepish surprise on Ranma's face was quickly replaced by awe. "Wait, for real? How the hell did ya disarm 'em all so fast?"

Her head tipped to one side. "Well, there wasn't actually anything to disarm, so…"

He blinked, then furrowed his brow. "That can't be right. I mean I wasn't finding much either, but…" He pursed his lips, then moved past her. "Here, lemme have a go at it. Not sayin' you didn't do a good job or nothin', but if you knew the old ghoul like I do… trickiest lil' mummy this side of Egypt, no way she didn't…" His voice petered off into low mumbling as he began his canvassing.

Leaving him to his own devices, Ukyou and Akane followed Konatsu inside, making sure to close the door behind them. Ukyou found the interior to be even more unsettling than the exterior, which she'd not expected. As a restaurant owner herself, she'd quickly gotten used to being alone amongst empty seats and tables, and she'd half-anticipated a sense of peculiar familiarity to wash away the discomfort, but the Nekohanten felt like something else entirely. Between the dying lightbulb flickering weakly in the corner, the dead flowers in the vases on the tables, and the hints of unpleasant smells coming from the kitchen, it gave off an air of stagnance and, to an extent, genuine decay. It was all she could do not to shiver.

Akane, having no such reservations, stuck out her tongue in a mock-gag. "Euch. This place is making my skin crawl. Let's see what they've got and get gone already."

Ukyou addressed Konatsu. "Did you find anything useful while you were looking around?"

"Not really, no. Even when I was checking upstairs- there wasn't much of anything in the bedrooms at all." Her voice carried subtle notes of shame, as though she thought Ukyou would be disappointed in her for it.

Ukyou noticed but continued, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Huh. And you didn't see any basement entry or anything like that?" She hummed at Konatsu's confirming nod. "Maybe Ran-chan was wrong after all."

"Wow," Akane said sardonically, "that'd be a first, huh?" She directed a teasing leer his way, but dropped it and sighed when she saw he was too busy meticulously examining the undersides of tables to register her voice.

"Well, might as well give it another once-over before we call it quits," Ukyou said. "I wanna see what that smell's about too, 'cause if it is what I think it is we might have another problem- er, another something on our hands, at least."

Akane paled. "You don't think they've got anything… weird in the freezer, do you? Like-" she licked her lips, then whispered in a hiss, "-fingers?"

Konatsu gasped, but Ukyou merely rolled her eyes. "Hon, I don't think that'd even happen in a Suzuki Seijun thriller, nevermind real life." Before they migrated to the kitchen, though, Ukyou placed a hand on Konatsu's shoulder and pulled her aside, immediately riveting the suddenly anxious girl's attention to her. "Hey, by the by, thanks for helping out with all this, Ko-chan. You didn't have to be here, but you are, an' I appreciate it."

Konatsu beamed, but her expression took on a puzzled tint. "O-oh! Well, it's really not any trouble, but also… I don't think I could have… not?"

Ukyou blinked, her thoughts scrambling to try and unpack what exactly that statement might've meant. Unfortunately, before she could substantially narrow down the possibilities, her body, working on social normalcy autopilot, removed her hand from Konatsu's shoulder, said, "Alright, let's get to it, y'all," and walked past them and into the kitchen.

Closer up, the smell was upgradable to a muted stink, decidedly gross but not yet overwhelming. There were no obvious culprits out in the open, nor any particularly suspect details in general. The space's only inanimate occupants were a mid-size commercial stove, a pair of cooking sinks, metal-framed spice and ingredient racks, a dishwashing basin, and a cold storage unit. The only other features were the service window, an open door leading to an indoor stairwell like the one in her own building, and a vent and a door marked "Employee Bathroom" tucked underneath where the stairs beyond the wall climbed. Ukyou thought the lattermost was a bizarre choice of placement, but wrote it off as a mere architectural shortcut.

She checked the lidded pot that'd been left atop the stove first, finding it full of cold, unfinished broth. It was odd (not to mention wasteful), but inoffensive to the nose. The various drawers, shelves and racks proved similarly fruitless, and the sealed produce containers appeared to be nothing more than absolutely ordinary. Once they'd run out of other places to look, the three of them converged on the cold storage unit. With Konatsu and Akane peering expectantly over her shoulders, Ukyou drew in a deep breath and braced herself for what she was all but certain they were about to find, then pulled open the door.

The stench assaulted them full-force the instant the door's air seal broke, compelling her companions to flee like deer at the sound of a rifle shot. She kept it open just long enough to confirm her expectations, then hastily slammed it shut. A startling cry of disgust sounded from behind her, but when she turned, both girls had their mouths pointedly shut, lest proximity expose their tongues to the taste of bleachy, saline rot directly. When she looked to the doorway to the restaurant's dining area, she found a thoroughly nauseous Ranma pinching his nose with one hand and covering his mouth with the other, barely managing to speak through intermittent dry heaves.

"I knew it! I- hhurhh -knew there was some-hu-hurrk -some kinda trap!"

Thinking quickly, Akane snatched a jar of lemongrass from a spice rack and opened it under his nose. That immediately soothed him, but they still all had to wait for the smell to disperse enough to breathe freely.

Ukyou was the first to speak again. "Wasn't any sort o' trap, Ran-chan." At Akane and Konatsu's widening eyes, she added, "Weren't any fingers, either, ya dorks. What it was was shrimp and chicken that got left on the thawing side too long and went way, way bad."

"Why would they set it to thaw if they were going to be gone long enough for this to happen?" Akane asked. "Unless…"

"Unless they were in a big rush to leave in the first place," Ukyou finished. "And I don't know what could get those stubborn bastards spooked enough for that, but I know I don't wanna find out. I just hope they were runningto somewhere an' not from something."

"Well," Ranma said, "the day they took off, Shamps swung by for a minute and said they were goin' back to China for some council dealy, so I think we're good on that. She did hug me, like, for real, though, which was weird." He stilled. "You don't think they're gonna bring back reinforcements from the village to get me to marry her, do ya?"

She shook her head. "Look, we can cross that bridge when we come to it. We've got enough on our plate as is without worrying about a bunch of hypotheticals."

"Oh, right." He scratched his head. "Uh, speakin' of which, you guys have any luck?"

"The stink was the closest thing we had to a lead," Ukyou said.

"Sorry," Konatsu supplied.

"Ah, whatever," he said casually, "if there ain't nothin', there ain't nothin'. Maybe they took all the useful stuff with when they left." Noticing the bathroom door on the far side of the kitchen he added, "Hey, y'all mind if I go before we go?"

"You really should've gone before we left," Akane admonished. "Anyways, I already tried to get in there, it's locked and there's no keys around."

Ranma snickered, removing his cap and tossing it carelessly onto a preparation table. "Oh no, a locked door!" He reached into his hair, fingers digging under the strands a couple inches behind his ear, and withdrew a pair of hairpins from concealment. "The thing that always, definitely stops me!"

Akane folded her arms and glowered at him. "Of course you'd know how to pick a lock. Why did I expect any different?"

"'Cause you never 'preciate my genius, prolly." Once he'd bent the pins into the correct shapes, he knelt in front of the door. He stuck the pins in, then stilled, a taken-back expression forming on his features. He pulled them out, repositioned them minutely and tried again, and again, and again. He stood slowly, then turned to face the others directly. "Somethin's up with this."

"What, did the big, bad Saotome Ranma finally get stumped by a locked door?" Akane quipped.

He glared at her. "I didn't get stumped by a lock, 'cause that ain't a lock to begin with. You couldn't even put a key in it. The keyhole stops, like, a centimeter in. No pins. It's either a fake lock or a real one that got filled in for some reason."

"Huh," Ukyou said. "Y'know, I thoughtsomething was fishy 'bout this side of the room. Never seen a bathroom an' staircase scrunched so close like that." She knelt down in front of the vent, squinting in an attempt to see past the dark. "This don't make sense either. I can't see how it could possibly connect to the rest of the air system from here."

"Plus, doesn't it look a little too big to you?" Akane chimed in, crouching next to her. "I doubt you or I could fit in it, but a twelve-year-old could probably crawl through there easily."

Ukyou's eyes widened as they met Akane's. "Or a small animal."

Akane gasped. "Like a duck!"

"Or a cat."

"Or a shriveled old bat!" She brought a hand up to her mouth. "Oh, man, Cologne really issneaky."

"But… then how are we going to get in?" Konatsu asked.

Slowly, the three of them all turned to stare at Ranma, who simply stared back uncomfortably until realization washed over him, followed by a look of annoyed resignment. "Can't even go one damn day…" Grumbling, he unbuttoned his top and threw it onto the same table as his hat, revealing the form-hugging tank top underneath. He then splashed his face at one of the sinks, adjusted his pants, shoo'ed everyone else aside and set about unscrewing the vent cover with his fingers.

While waiting for him to finish, Ukyou noticed Akane sneaking sidelong glances his way, lingering on his back, around the scoop of his tank top's neckline. Though they weren't overtly appreciative, it seemed rather obvious what was going through her head. Ukyou was once more surprised; she'd always known Akane to very pointedly not leer whenever Ranma was in cursed form. Whether it meant she'd finally realized Ranma was still Ranma no matter which body he was in or she'd suddenly untangled herself from her (clearly many) inhibitions and insecurities, Ukyou wasn't sure, but she did know all of these little changes happening between them were starting to worry her.

Once the last screw hit the tile, Ranma pulled off the cover, set it aside, rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. "This is gonna suck," he griped. Bending his arms in front of him, almost like a diver, he started to wriggle into the vent, letting out a few grunts of discomfort. Such sounds, as well as those of limbs thumping against metal, echoed into the kitchen for maybe half a minute, then ceased as a sigh of relief capped them off. After a few seconds of grabbling there was a click, and the small cracks between the door and the frame filled with light. From directly behind the door came two different clicks, three clangs of metal bars being set aside, and the jiggling of a chain, and then the door swung wide open, revealing Ranma standing at the top of a dimly lit flight of stairs that ran parallel to the stairwell above it and led to, assumedly, a basement.

As they all peered down from the doorway, he said, "I know Nabs ain't here, but, uh, who wants to bet there's at least one dead body down there?" He yelped in mock-pain as Akane punched his arm, then started down the stairs. "I mean it! What do you think happens when a customer tries t'play grab-ass with Shamps? If she don't get 'em for it, Mousse definitely does."

The rest of them filed in after him, with Ukyou heading up the rear. She and Konatsu both had to duck under the hanging light fixtures as they descended the cramped space. Ranma and Akane reached the bottom first, opening the door on the side and stepping through. An appreciative whistle preceded her and Konatsu entering, and when she stepped through the door she saw why.

The basement was comparable in size and shape to the kitchen, if less well-lit. The left wall was lined floor-to-ceiling with martial weapons of all sorts, seemingly categorized by type first and size second. The far wall was occupied by four tall metal file cabinets, two of which were missing a drawer. The right wall was almost entirely taken up by a thick vault door with no obvious means of entry. A long wooden table stood in the center, clear of whatever may or may not have lay atop it before. The air was dingy and dusty, but somehow the place managed to be less perturbing than the rest of the building.

"Helluva collection they've got here," Ranma said, eyeing over the tableau of all things blunt, sharp, pointy, or otherwise harmful. He pulled one of the largest polearms from its hook and admired it, testing its weight. "Man, I haven't seen one of these in years! An' it's a hefty one too."

It took a moment for Ukyou to register what specifically it was. "Oh, wait, is that really a guan dao? I thought those were supposed to be too heavy for real combat."

He scoffed, replacing the weapon on its hook. "Maybe for the average martial artist, but it's really not too much if you've got any actual muscle. Even that thing can't hold a candle to Ryouga's umbrella. It doesn't even weight that much more than that hunk o' metal you always swing around, for that matter."

After checking out a few more weapons, he, Akane and Konatsu moved on to the file cabinets. Ukyou lingered by the polearms for a moment, looking over the guan dao's huge blade, thick metal pole, and ornate counterweight. The sound of drawers opening soon drew her back to the task at hand, though, and she put the weapon out of her mind for the time being.

The others were already methodically rifling through files when she joined them, each one tackling a different cabinet. Akane, who was handling the third one from the end, opened up the top drawer of the yet-unmanned fourth one for her without looking up. "Here, we'll all be done faster like this. There's files on all sorts of things here, so as much as I hate to say Ranma was right, there could actually be something about the Naito here."

Wordlessly accepting her assignment, she began her share of the search. It was a little confusing at first, but she soon got the hang of it. Each file contained at least one set of pages of neatly handwritten Mandarin, and many contained additional copies in other languages; primarily Japanese, although she also found a handful of others she vaguely recognized if not understood, including Portuguese, English, and even Sanskrit.

Though she didn't waste any time reading files once she sussed out their irrelevance, she got the gist of what information they contained: each one named a person or group, gave a succinct description thereof, then, on a scale that never seemed to go lower than 1 or higher than 5, rated them in terms of "Potential," "Familiarity," and "Threat Level." The further she got into the drawers, the more she wondered why a small isolationist village in the mountains of China, intimidating though they could be, would want to catalog so much unconnected data, but as time passed the repetitive work numbed her brain enough to drive such extraneous thoughts away for now.

She was nearly done skimming the contents of the third drawer down and about to put the file in her hand back in its place when her thoughts caught up with her eyes and she registered the significance of what it said. "Whoa, hey, hey! Jackpot, y'all!" The others, as intrigued as they were eager for reprieve, put the files they were holding away and joined her at the table's edge, where she laid out the pages in a spread. Separating the Japanese copy from the Mandarin one, Akane read it aloud.

"Naito Clan

Assassins. Reclusive remnants of a 15th century shinobi line. Users and sole masters of a specialized hybrid style. Own and revere a well-preserved piece of parchment from an ancient traveler's notes. See themselves as arbiters of retributory justice as well as protectors of 'the uncorrupted'. Accept no monetary payment. Can only be hired by those willing to sacrifice to prove the righteousness of their cause. Said sacrifice involves cutting off one's own finger with a ceremonial knife. Finger is then used to write the target's name or names where they will find it. Hearsay suggests this is done to inform targets that their guilt has not gone unnoticed and/or that they've brought their fate on themselves.

Potential: 4

Familiarity: 2

Threat Level: 2"

There was a stretch of quiet when Akane finished reading until Ranma, trying to hide the strain in his voice, said, "Cool. Great. Yeah, okay, perfect. So, Pops pissed someone off, like always, 'cept this time it was so bad they sliced and diced their own hand to have him killed. An' then, like always, they blame me too, like I shoulda stopped him somehow. They even come after me before gettin' to him. Like. Always." He bit out the last two words with such an icy tone that Ukyou nearly flinched, then he chuckled ruefully. "They musta thought I was already 'corrupted' by bein' his kid. Guess I can't blame 'em for that, everyone else seems to think so too." He started gathering up the papers. "Whatever. There's nothing 'bout where they live or what techniques they got, and I don't think we're gettin' into that vault without making this place collapse, so let's just get outta here. Sorry for wastin' everyone's time."

As he was shuffling the pages, though, one fell out, evidently having been hidden beneath the rest. Ukyou caught it before it could flutter to the ground, moved to hand it back to Ranma, then stopped as she realized there was more Japanese text on part of it, sandwiched between what was assumedly a Mandarin version and another written in a language she didn't recognize at all. "Wait, guys, there's more. It looks like… Oh, I think this is the traveler's note the file mentioned." The text's format was odd, but she did her best to interpret it in spoken format for the others.

"The world shed today

Dawn spared no warning

First the sky was lazy and the water was calm

My boat traced the skin of foreign soil

I saw no others

I saw insects

I saw a new fish

I caught one and recorded it

I ate it with the kasoori methi from my friend on the mountain

The clouds let enough sun through for me to bask

I allowed myself a moment's peace

I napped

I woke to a world of terrors

The sky was flooded grey and thoughtless with hail

The sea bubbled and boiled and stung me with its spray

My boat and I were flung ashore like long-dead refuse picked clean

Her splinters scratched the shore and my skin

I fled inland from the scalding steam

Only the trees sheltered me from the hail

I shook

I prayed

I forgot any sense of time

I held myself close together and waited for the ground to swallow me

Salvation came in a most incredible and awful form

Its arrival punctured the clouds

It streaked a true path toward land

Toward the east

Toward me

It flew faster than I knew anything could

Yet as it passed over my head I saw it clear

An enormous hawk of white and gold feathers stained dark with blood

A being whose reach stretched further than heavens and depths

One from the life beyond life cast out

It continued past where I could see

Then the land shook

A great wave of something I had only felt once before swept over me

And I knew it was dead

It took hours for the clouds to scatter

Longer still for the sea to cool

But only now that I relive the event here

Sleepless

Does understanding come

It is a lesson I have failed to learn before

No life is sacred when weeds choke the blossoms

I will not hesitate again"

Ranma sighed. "So they're strong, they're crazy, they're out for my head and they're all way into some myth about the world almost ending. Good to know. Let's get back already so I can at least get in a couple hours of sparring before dinner." With that, he rounded the table and climbed the stairs back to the restaurant proper.

Akane groaned and said, "You'd think after being so insistent that he'd be fine if therewasn't anything, he'd at least be happy that there was something," before following him up.

Ukyou made to put the errant page back with the rest, but Konatsu put a hand on her arm. "Um, actually Ukyou-sama, would it be alright if I held onto that?" At Ukyou's questioning quirk of a brow, she said, "I-I don't know how to explain it, but… part of me keeps yelling at me like I'm missing something important. I'm really not sure if it's the story, or some of the words, or the other translations, or all of it, or none of it and I'm just overthinking it, or-"

Ukyou interrupted her by handing her the page. "Yeah, go nuts. We can worry about Cologne figuring out it's gone when they come back."

Konatsu nodded gratefully, creasing it meticulously and slipping it into her komon's folds. "Thank you Ukyou-sama. I won't let you down." She turned to leave as well.

On an impulse, just as she stepped onto the threshold of the stairwell, Ukyou called out, "Hold up a sec, Ko-chan." She stopped immediately, looking back to her expectantly. Ukyou asked, "What was it you meant, earlier? When you said you couldn't've not helped?"

She tilted her head forward a little, meeting Ukyou's eyes only briefly. "Oh, I just meant… well, Ranma helped me get away from home, and I never really repayed that, so I thought this would be a start. And then, you wanted to do this for him too, so even if I didn't owe him…" She smiled softly. "Well, I wouldn't be very useful if I didn't even help you with the important things, would I?"

Ukyou took a second to gather her thoughts, then said, carefully, "Look, sug, don't think I'm saying this because I don't appreciate the sentiment or anything, 'cause I do, but... you're not obligated to do everything for me, alright? If you wanna return the favor for Ran-chan go ahead, but you don't gotta keep worrying 'bout being useful to me. It ain't about that, you're not- you're not something to be used- you're your own person!" She sighed, tramping down the frustration that'd begun to swell within her. "No one should have more say in what you do than you. Me included."

Konatsu's expression faltered for a few seconds, betraying hints of confusion, panic, conflictedness, and shame, but she still managed to nod silently before disappearing up the stairs, leaving Ukyou alone to berate herself for probably mishandling another important conversation as she returned the file, sans the last page, to its proper drawer.

When she made to leave, she skirted the table on the side by the weapon racks, but found herself stopping just before where the guan dao was hung, eyes tracing its russet-tinted length and uniquely-shaped silver blade. She reached out to it unconsciously, then pulled her hand away, then, compelled by a pang in her gut, strengthened her resolve and pulled it off its hook. It was indeed heavier than her usual fare, but, holding it in her hands now, feeling its weight for herself, that suddenly felt less like a reason to dismiss it and more like an obstacle worth overcoming.

Once she'd climbed the stairs, turned off the light, closed the door and rejoined the others, the basement was left exactly the way they'd found it, save for some displaced dust, one piece of paper, and a single empty hook amongst fifty occupied ones.