Right Moments 10. Open the Gate!

Author: Judah

Kissaten – Japanese café, serves coffee or tea usually

(-ku) -- This suffix denotes the proper noun it is attached to is a Japanese place, usually a prefecture.

“Open the Gate!”

Staring into the sky, blue beyond blue, Ranma Saotome inhaled the unspoiled Shikoku air. Bracing his feet in the small clearing outside the Cave of the Ghost Boar, he began. Calling ki, Ranma mentally tweaked until his spiritual electricity crackled sharply into the smell of ozone.

Extending his hands palms up in front, unlaunched attack ready; Ranma felt agitated air softly whirling around his body. His creation, making his pigtail float with static, reminded Ranma of a compressed Tesla Coil. The sphere of blue electricity pulsated with his heartbeat.

Searching for two seconds located his chalk-drawn target on a smoothed portion of stone, inside the mouth of the cave. It looked like Ryoga getting bit on his ass by a miniature P-Chan. Disregarding silly sentai poses, Ranma smirked, and used his will to send the 20,000 Volt special screaming ahead like a dozen launching fireworks.

A loud explosion shook the clearing outside the cave, and a small shockwave frightened three worm-hunting robins into flight. Blinking away an afterimage from his first ‘knock,’ a strange tingling in the air made Ranma think of a spirit ward’s activation. His beautiful caricature had vaporized, unfortunately.

‘Knocking’ farther inside the cave, Ranma’s refined senses noted electricity had been converted into a strange type of energy. Not ki, not spiritual defense or banishment, not demonic, but a new, unfamiliar power.

Approaching the strongest presence of this effect, he sensed an indistinct shape: an arched gateway -- a viaduct to Elsewhere. Not yet open, this portal blended in with the surrounding stone, but felt like a hole inside the world. Its hungry edges drew in and absorbed ambient ki, light, and heat like a spiritual void.

Ranma mentally twisted hard and initiated a voltage-based ki-beam into this disturbance’s center. The light from cast off sparks illuminated the hidden corners of the cavern, and the visual effect was spectacular, like a low magnitude plasma discharge.

After absorbing power for minutes, the Gateway suddenly sprang into focus, and Ranma saw a meadow of red grass and a purple sky with four pale moons. This vista appeared on the cave’s far wall, the one he’d smashed in frustration before learning the trick of ki-voltage.

Sweating profusely, Ranma felt exhaustion tinged with excitement. Right now he’d be worthless in a fight. Retreating half a mile outside, away from the unknown influences of the Gateway, Ranma Saotome Kissed the Face of Life, replenishing his energies.

After a timeless zen communion, he returned. The position of the sun in the sky indicated an hour had passed.

Pondering the stabilized Gate, which greedily sucked in heat, making the cave ten degrees colder than the lazy day outside, Ranma picked up a nearby flat rock. He hurled it at the portal, and watched as the strange red grass bent at its passing. With some careful searching, he tossed an annoyed spider through with the same mundane result. Feeling better, the kami-seeking martial artist took a running jump into the Gate, shouting in triumph.

With his mind blanked and prepared, Ranma smiled as he soared at the strange landscape. When his body touched the portal, the strange energy that composed it recoiled from his skin. Hundreds of vistas flashed past his eyes, each lasting microseconds, until the Gateway blanked out mid-passage.

Ranma did not notice; his head was immersed in lighted gray nothingness, and his senses could not process the overwhelming jumble of briefly being hundreds of places simultaneously. Simple momentum carried him through, and even more violent undulations thrashed the Portal’s surface, until the last part of Ranma Saotome (his right heel) was no longer present on Earth.

Powers exhausted, the kami-gate returned to irregular stone. Stone that rippled slightly, and then became still. As for the person unlucky enough to use it last. . . . . .

F

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He was falling into an endless gray sky. The confusing hodgepodge of sensory images from his transition faded, and he faced this new emergency. He could not see the ground.

Screaming lost its novelty, when Ranma remembered he could fly. Contemplation came hard, fighting against an odd sense of having done this before. Looking far into the gray felt like the yawning maw of an abyss: unnerving and humbling. Flinging ki about -- also useless. Ranma hoped the laws of the endless day held true, but his first thought had been on the relativity of time. Stranger and more reckless ideas came next.

Was he endlessly orbiting a strange planet, never to reach escape velocity, never to hit ground? A planet polluted with oxygen; what were the inhabitants like? Was the grayness from the ionization content of the atmosphere?

Or this was merely a test of worthiness by the kami! All foolish mortals seeking the unknown lands of afterlife must face this dilemma.

Perhaps this Viaduct acted like a reverse singularity, much like the event horizon of a black hole? Ranma knew enough physics to wonder at the how the rotational gradient of his entry might affect his physical perception of travel time. Or was this really a form of time travel?

Purgatory. That might be the name for this place.

He fell across a gray void, and had been for hours. He accepted that he fell, and had returned to the mystery of how exactly the rock and spider had made it across.

“Hello!” An impatient child-like voice distracted him from unproductive musings.

Squirming in the air, Ranma noted he was falling head first, while this newest arrival fell feet first. The visitor wore typical black school shoes with white laces.

Looking upwards, Ranma observed the voice belonged to an adolescent girl, who wore plain white panties. Modestly, she pulled in her skirt to cut off the view.

“Good, you aren’t a statue or a woman.” The girl sounded strangely relieved, and almost desperate as she appraised him.

“No worries. I’m Ranma Saotome, one hundred percent man!” Grateful for company, Ranma executed an aerial half-twist so he spoke to her face.

A typical student of the Japanese school system stared back. He didn’t recognize the fuku color-coding; therefore she came from another prefecture. Shibuya-ku or Nishi-ku; maybe even Ota-ku guessed Ranma.

“Nice to meet you Saotome-san; I am Miyuki Kouda, but please, call me Miyuki. Don’t think me forward, but please tell me how you came to this Tunnel-land?”

Ranma evaluated the ki-posture of his companion and found her to be slight clumsy with an aura of innocence and resignation. If she was kami, the disguise was good.

“Miyuki-san, I transfigured ki-projectiles into the electro-spiritual wavelength, and then used them to empower a known weak point between worlds, however a strange reaction happened.” Seeing her eyes glaze over, and thinking his would have not long ago, Ranma changed the topic. “How did you get here?”

“Well this morning I woke up at 7:37, skipped my bath, and took a different direction to school than I normally do because this weird looking skateboarding girl in a bunny suit really creeped me out. I saw the cutest little cat by the side of a kissaten, so I followed him, and suddenly this strange woman who looked like me reached out of somewhere, grabbed me, and pulled me into a plate glass window outside a grocery store, and here I am!” She’d babbled the whole thing on one breath.

Miyuki’s cheerful obliviousness didn’t change the fact they were still falling through an endless gray sky.

Accepting the story, Ranma pondered their strange situation for three whole seconds before the schoolgirl reached out and grabbed him as tightly as she could, wrapping her legs around his back.

“Hey!” Ranma squawked as Miyuki’s hands wandered downwards and groped, “Are you a pervert or something!”

“It’s terrible!” She wailed into his chest. “It’s like I’ve been caught in a never ending nightmare, and no matter where I turn after repeating the same morning, I’m in a strange world full of horny women!”

“At least you’re not engaged to em.” Muttered Ranma darkly under his breath.

“I don’t like girls that way!” Responded Miyuki, who heard, and squeezed her new toy with emphasis.

Twitching in discomfort, Ranma gently reached down, pried Miyuki’s fingers off, and took both their hands out of his pants.

“Okay,” Drawled Ranma patiently, “Why don’t we keep our hands to ourselves, and you can me all about those terrible women.”

Miyuki began speaking incredibly fast, blushing because Ranma continued holding her hands. The highlights Ranma would later remember were a sentient door with interesting knobs, an embarrassing game of chess, an out of character Christian angel, and the Li sisters’ special ‘Heart’ attack.

Time passed, and the gray void gradually became slightly pinkish. Finally Miyuki finished, and looked hopefully at Ranma.

“Mirrorland, Wonderland, Pearlyland.... I can’t see why you would name this place ‘Tunnel-land.’ “Ranma finally said, thinking ‘Wow! Another obsessive crazy chick!’

Apparently this wasn’t the answer Miyuki had hoped for, as she wailed at him with teary eyes: “D-d-does this mean you ca-can’t help me!!!”

“If I could have gotten out of here, I’da done it already! Now, um, Miyuri, please don’t cry.” Letting go of her hands, Ranma tried ejecting the schoolgirl from his personal space. Struggling merely caused her to latch on tighter, like a lamprey.

Then they both noticed he’d pushed her to arm’s length by putting his hands on her breasts. To assure himself this was so, Ranma’s hands squeezed involuntarily. This told him he indeed grasped undersized yet cushy female breasts.

Ranma’s instincts replied ‘Oops! Sorry about this disaster; it’s your own fault you know.’ He frowned in resignation, because the truth hurts at times.

Miyuki’s mind purred: ‘A man, a species of creature you haven’t encountered in endless worlds, has made a move --- go Go GO!’ She smiled benevolently, accepting salvation.

“Please, call me Miyuki-chan.” Prompted the pleased girl, inhaling deeply, making her chest heave against Ranma’s hands.

“Gah!” Ranma’s mind overloaded and he let go. Miyuki-chan took this as an opportunity to cuddle, hugging him with an intensity that evoked memories of Amazons.

Enveloped, Ranma considered activating his curse, but he thought another such experience might scar a gentle girl for life. Then Miyuki’s hands wandered down, and again, he felt very uncomfortably constricted, in an intimate manly way.

“That’s it!” The words came out nearly an octave higher than usual. Regretting the necessity, (he wasn’t about to use his Art on a distressed innocent, no matter how annoying), he triggered Jusenkyo with cold ki.

Withdrawing her fingers with gasping horror, Miyuki-chan observed the large pair of breasts now adorning the woman she had in a death grip. With a piercing shriek, she pushed off, and fainted in free fall.

“Wow.” Said Ranma-chan in reverence, “That went much better than a shiatsu strike!”

The sound of clapping broke her sense of accomplishment, and Ranma maneuvered downwards again. She found herself face-to-spiked-cleavage with a strange woman, who happened to be dressed in a sexy dominatrix outfit made of red leather with lots of sharp looking metal points. The Queen of Hearts was a recurring motif across her costume, and she wore a jeweled golden crown embedded with a tiny ruby heart. The heart had a prominently embossed letter ‘Q.’

“Bravo, young lady! That punishment was artistic genius! Weighty, pretentious, and mean! Now, lets cut this scene.” Smirking, the red Queen cracked her crimson whip and the gray void vanished.

Disorientated, Ranma saw a fine red velvet tablecloth, complete with scarlet silk napkins arranged like roses, and realized she was now sitting. Rather cozily, at that. In an overstuffed red leather armchair inside a snug room wallpapered with hearts. Valentine’s Day hearts, not bloody aortas, though strangely her danger sense told her the latter wouldn’t have been out of place. Naturally, the rug on the floor was a dark burgundy. Through a window outside, Ranma saw snowflakes drift across a frozen forested landscape, carried by strong winds.

The Queen of Hearts sat on the other end of the table, and rang a tiny silver bell. Promptly, a black-haired girl in a black one-piece swimsuit wearing bunny ears and a cotton tail wheeled in a silver tea service from the room’s open doorway. Efficiently, she deposited silver teacups at both ends of the table.

Ranma made a quick decision to play along, but not eat or drink anything, remembering the story of how Athena’s daughter became trapped in Hades by six pomegranate seeds.

The bunny girl gently topped off the red Queen’s tea, and walked three feet across the room before filling the silver teacup in front of Ranma’s right elbow.

“What happened to Miyuki?” A slightly protective overtone in Ranma’s voice started the conversation.

The red Queen sipped her tea before answering. “Oh, she’ll wake up at 7:28am in her own bed, and will involuntarily decide to visit Chrome Castle through a tire hubcap two blocks from her school. The Silver Witch will be overjoyed!”

“Ah. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me exactly where I am?”

Looking pensive, the Queen of Hearts stared at Ranma, before speaking reflectively between sips of tea. “If you weren’t a man, I’d punish you for such impertinence, but you have shown yourself a kindred spirit by participating in our little game.”

Totally clueless, the red-headed girl nodded.

Donning a sophisticated pair of heart shaped, rose tinged spectacles (which weren’t present two seconds ago), the Queen spoke in a lecturing, Victorian tone: “You have happened into a delicious Realm of Imagination, specifically one based off a bastardized version of Lewis Carroll’s fable ‘Alice in Wonderland;’ I imagine you arrived by improperly grounding the Artifact of Traveling dissolved in your blood. We’ve spoken enough offstage; I must return to my role.”

Noting Ranma’s skeptical stare, the Queen of Hearts smiled, showing more teeth than a normal human woman, and said mysteriously, “These are very special rose colored glasses, they only show what truly Is.”

“Do you know how I ended up in the Gray?” Falling into an endless tunnel was to be avoided in the future.

Having finished her tea, her majesty slid out of her chair and made her glasses into a ruby covered whip with a negligent hand-wave.

“Simple beginner’s mistake: finding yourself on a neutral mindscape.“

Thoughts scrambling, Ranma-chan watched her Highness of Hearts forcefully shove the handle of her whip between the bunny girl’s legs, causing a piercing scream.

Before exiting the room, the Queen spoke imperiously: “My, that punishment caused her to shout. Now for those who haven’t painted the snow red. . . . . they owe me the use of their heads! Please, find your own way out.”

Wondering when the conversation degenerated into rhyme, Ranma reluctantly left the comfortably overstuffed chair. Concerned, she checked on the serving girl, who was moaning and clutching herself on the floor.

After making sure the girl was not injured, Ranma inquired, “Ah, excuse me, miss are you Ok?”

“Punishment is pleasure. Pleasure is pain. Pain is punishment.” Responded the prostrate girl breathlessly, her hands clenching the burgundy carpet tightly.

Having a feeling they were conducting two separate conversations, Ranma asked anyway: “I don’t suppose you could tell me what the Queen meant earlier?”

Sitting up slowly, the dazed girl hands reached out and tweaked her rescuer’s breasts with her index fingers, like pushing two large buttons. “I will if you punish me.” Her sultry voice, made Ranma nervous, especially when the girl began tracing patterns on her rescuer’s stomach, which was conveniently in front of her face.

Backing away, Ranma distanced herself, making sure the table with the silver tea service was between them.

“First tell me your name, please.”

Sitting up and stretching, accentuating her own breasts, pointedly visible through her black swimsuit, the girl who wanted punishment parried, “Do not fear; I am the March Hare.”

“So ‘March Hare,’ if I punish you by pleasure or pain, you’ll tell me what I want to know?” Sounding resigned, Ranma-chan noted the other girl had started stalking after her. She noticed the room’s door, which the tea service had been wheeled in through, had mysteriously vanished

“Pleasure is proffered, and I so promise.” The Hare closed the distance between them, darting to the other side of the tea table, around an overstuffed red leather armchair.

Taking the statement for confirmation, Ranma switched to male with a touch of hot ki. Gleefully, he blasted away with the Chilling Lips of Death. If this was an elaborate test by the kami, they would find Ranma Saotome didn’t back down!

Cutting off the higher ki attack, Ranma glared at the perspiring girl, “How exactly do I ‘show myself out,’ and stop calling me Mistress!”

The March Hare smiled, a sly sneaky smile. “Princess, only an uncultured moron who couldn’t understand a come-on would feel distress. Choose to use the device inside your blood, or reside and entice and watch my floods.”

“I didn’t understand any of that at all!” Shouted Ranma in exasperation. “Don’t call me ‘Princess’ either.”

Squirming out of her black one-piece, the nude (except for a hat) bunny girl was revealed to have a real rabbit’s tail. Naturally this raised a question of whether the long pink ears on her hat were part of her head. Tossing her garment away, the March Hare began crawling towards Ranma whimpering, “Understanding is late; It’s late! Another punishment is my poor fate!”

Feeling used, Ranma invoked the Chilling Lips for minutes, and watched the Burgundy rug under the March Hare dampen into darker red. When the ki-stream faded out, the Ranma noted the Hare’s smile showed more teeth than a normal human should have.

“Explain ‘device inside your blood.’ “Demanded Ranma, who wasn’t exactly controlling events. This time the March Hare had called him ‘Queen.’

The eyes of the naked creature in front of him unfocused, and the ears on her hat twitched at him. Then she began chanting: “A looking glass which lets one pass, across space and time at the pace of rhyme. By blood and tears it repeats your fears for countless years. A perverted gnome, whose hands will roam granted this ability with philosophic senility.”

Without additional prompting, Ranma used the Chilling Lips briefly. The March Hare gave a long keening scream before getting to the point.

“Your artifact has consequence dear; Nanban Mirror, take you there!”

An angry red aura sprang up around Ranma Saotome, giving even the March Hare pause. Hesitantly, the bunny girl reached out and touched the bloody energy. She smiled as it burned her hand.

Attempting to master his frustration with inward meditation, Ranma supposed he should have interrogated Happosai years ago. Happi claimed responsibility, but Ranma believed it was some stupid magic spell. Why? Because he listened to the perv! The Nanban Mirror was a Dangerous Artifact. Once it had almost stranded him in ancient China, and he still remembered his panic and despair -- never to see Akane or his family because he would die before they were born.

No wonder the perverted little jerk had been so accommodating. Wondering darkly if Happosai had plans to get a reformed Nanban out of him later, Ranma decided he should immediately learn how to access the mirror’s powers.

His angry aura died, ten minutes after this newest revelation.

Returning his attention outward, Ranma noticed he smelled like cheap perfume, and the March Hare had wrapped herself intimately around his legs. Glancing down at her, Ranma allowed part of his irritation to show by snarling, “No more rhymes!”

“I want to be punished again, I’ve been bad by rubbing my scent over you.” Declared the Hare petulantly.

“Well I’m tired right now, I don’t suppose a trade of information is possible?” Asked Ranma while shaking the rabbit-girl off. Besides being emotionally drained, The Chilling Lips of Death was a higher ki-attack, and he had used it multiple times for long periods. Replenishing ki from the ambient energies in such a strange place was ill advised.

“Tell me your true name, and I’ll answer the five questions my Queen.” Said his willing love bunny, who had settled for wrapping herself around his left ankle and crossing her legs twice, making her impossible to dislodge.

Not seeing the harm of it, he growled back promptly while lifting his left leg in a rapid series of side kicks, “Ranma Saotome, and get off!”

“I am trying, my Queen.” Replied the Hare as she pushed against his ankle with a rhythm while suspended upside down two feet in the air. She had rather enjoyed the motion from the kicks.

Assessing the situation, Ranma brought his leg down until he stood on his left big toe, and with a prodigious jump, left the Hare cuddling his left shoe as he flipped safely over the tea table. Immediately, he began rattling off questions, hoping they worked as a distraction.

“First question: how do I ground myself?”

A disappointed March Hare stood up, Ranma’s shoe sticking out of her, and answered: “Think of home.”

“Second question: how do I avoid neutral mindscapes?”

Removing the shoe, the bunny-girl answered: “Think of where you want to go.”

“Third question: how do I use the Mirror to travel?”

Fiddling with his shoe, the Hare responded: “Use the right kind of energy.”

Remembering the weird feel of the energies around the kami-gate, Ranma thought he could duplicate them with time.

“Fourth question: can you Travel too?”

Smirking, the March Hare threw the shoe right at Ranma’s face, only to appear in front of him and catch it. Holding it up, she offered it to him reverently. He noted it smelled strongly of cheap perfume.

“Um. . . . you can keep it.” Backing away at a measured pace, Ranma struggled with a good final question.

Matching his retreat with small teleports, the disturbingly persistent woman smiled a happy, toothy smile.

“Last Question: how can I break a time repetition?”

Pausing momentarily, her ears twitching in thought for two seconds, his stalker answered, “It is merely a matter of will.”

Letting out a whoop, Ranma hugged the March Hare unexpectedly, surprising her with a role reversal. He could leave his endless day with will! More importantly, he understood exactly how to open the connection to the kami plane without further mishaps.

Ironically, his day ended as he raised his fist in triumph while clutching a stunned bunny girl, and the triumphant dimensional blunderer again found herself in the Tendo koi pond.

Feeling her new Queen vanish, the March Hare made a strangled longing noise. She wanted to be punished more! “Ranma Saotome, I declare you my new liege!” Proclaimed a semi-sated play-bunny, who really was a strange species of reverse succubus. Then she vanished too.

Incalculable troubles were later attributed to this.

He rested one day: sleeping in Hinako’s classroom, enjoying Kasumi’s beef bowl, tripping up Nabiki in her own logical paradox, kicking his father’s tail, talking about mythology with Ucchan, and ending the day with Shampoo.

He now had the power to end the repetitions, but still tasks remained to be accomplished: The Bane of Heirs, the deal with Yusaku, and choosing his wife. Soon, his life would be normal again. . . . . Well; less abnormal.

This time Ranma properly activated the portal, grounding his internal Nanban Mirror. He concentrated on his room inside the Tendo compound while calling ki-lightning. Again the Gate opened, but this time, the scene was of a pastoral meadow under a blue sky, not unlike the picturesque Shikoku landscape outside.

Bracing himself, after tossing a triangular rock through, Ranma jumped through the gate thinking of his errand on the Kami planes. . . . . . and landed right next to a cluster of rice plants. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw a hovering Window showing the insides of the Cave of the Ghost Boar.

Giddy with relief, he reverently kissed the ground, and began looking for guidance. He had not thought much to what happened next and had little idea of how to proceed. Maybe the locals could help?

Ranma had not taken three steps when an angry basso rotundo rumbled from above: “WHO DARES TRESPASS?”

Looking up, Ranma beheld a giant pig, larger than the Orochi, which he surmised to be the Ghost Boar. However, he had been accused of trespass by the Ghost Boar’s rider, a fifty foot tall giant wearing archaic armor made of living trees. Literally living trees, with birds nesting in the branches.

Staring up at the gargantuan mounted warrior, Ranma yelled back using a deafening ki-voice: “Ranma Saotome dares, and apologizes for any insult. I thought this the realm of the Ghost Boar, Sir.”

The colossal sight in front of him vanished, and Ranma found himself facing a distinguished looking bearded Japanese gentleman, perhaps in his late forties, dressed in purple Imperial robes.

“Welcome to this Realm, Ranma Saotome, son of Genma and Nodoka. I am Ame-No-Oshido-Mimi, son of Ameratsu, and I can see from your thoughts that this was an honest mistake.”

Listening, Ranma was almost overcome by what he would later describe with inadequate words as divine splendor. For now, he settled for remaining speechless.

“Ah, it has been long since I interacted with under-developed beings, and I have forgotten what protocols are used. I will attune this portal gate so my steed can still enjoy his frolics, but it will open towards a proper pathway in the Kami Realms for you alone. Please exit now, and use the Gate again.”

Ranma moved back to the portal while wondering if this would also become a repetitive encounter.

Ame-No-Oshido-Mimi frowned slightly and spoke directly into Ranma’s mind. “I doubt you will see me again, child. Here is good advice: stop thinking you are invincible. You were too quick in accepting the Amulet of Presence from that banished trickster Yusaku because you believed yourself safely isolated from the consequences. Your recklessness showed when you skirmished with a Sanity Drinker and were almost eradicated from existence. When dealing with Power, remember your place!”

Ranma could have sworn Ame-No-Oshido-Mimi shoved him into the hovering Window, but in re-entering the Cave of Ghost Boar, he simply accepted events.

Shaken, Ranma found Ryouga wandering the outskirts of Shikoku and goaded the lost boy into sparring, but he still couldn’t forget the shining presence of the man in Imperial robes. Feeling oddly compelled, he later made offerings at Shinto temples in the name of his benefactor.

Eventually, he consulted the local library, and Ramna found Ame-No-Oshido-Mimi was the son of Ameratsu who refused to rule the Kingdom of Earth.

Hoping for no further unnecessary detours, Ranma opened the Kami path while thinking of home. A strange crossroads appeared, with worn dirt roads in the eight directions of a compass. A wooden signpost in the perfect center of the crossroads was covered in faint, unreadable markings.

Entering properly after replenishing his energies, no strange spirits or gods immediately came to bedevil Ranma. Instead, he spent a half hour puzzling out the blurred, archaic kanji on the crossroads marker.

The translation: “The moon wades the ocean’s depths while stars probe the Earth’s black lakes. Men’s feet sink in swamps of sorrow, seeking the uncharted beyond.”

While evoking the contemplation of his mortality, and making him feel the unearthliness of this realm, the signpost gave no directions.

Picking the southwest road, Ranma began walking. This direction held the greenest grass, and was the most inviting of the eight paths.

Though oddly well maintained, the beautiful flowers covering the landscape and rolling hills on either side of the path emitted vibes of desolation, as if their wholesome appearance was merely illusion. Still, after starting down this road, Ranma thought this direction seemed like a good idea

He didn’t realize this decision wasn’t his own.

After a couple hours, the first creature he met was an oni with no horns. A whole three feet tall, it gibbered excitedly upon spotting him. Maybe this was its territory or something.

Snarling at his approach, the chibi-oni ran away when he glared back.

A little later, Ranma finally made out some forbidding red-topped mountains in the distance. A brackish, semi-polluted stream full of ashes flowed to the west. Observing oppressive dark clouds of volcanic cinders on the horizon, his danger sense suddenly flared, and he ducked a pitchfork attempting to spear his head like shish kabob.

Fifteen oni appeared in a loose circle around him on the beaten dirt road. Standing eight feet tall, they looked like over-muscled hairy apes with a boar’s tusks, goat horns, and lots of sharp teeth. Thirteen monstrosities in dark black robes wielded spear-type weapons: pitchforks, tridents, chained sickles, and nagi-natas. The largest elephantine brute, standing ten feet, carried a zanbatu, a great sword as long as he was tall. The hornless runt looked out from behind the oni-behemoth’s right leg and presented the red-eye.

“Do any of you speak Japanese?” Ranma’s hopeful inquiry caused a hearty round of growling. Somehow he doubted yelling ‘nice doggies’ would help.

“What business does a living man have on the road to Hell?” Called a rough voice to his left.

“I’m looking to remove a curse.” Replied Ranma humbly. Oni began hungrily licking their weapons in anticipation, coating the cruel metals with poisonous saliva.

A reply was snarled back: “Then you should have taken the northern road to Ne-no-kuni, and not the Path of Good Intentions. While your soul doesn’t smell evil, you’ve performed enough indirect thievery and hurtful indecision that it won’t stick in the craw. Been a long time since me an’ the boys had fresh meat.”

The oni-pack rumbled agreement, moving in. After two seconds, they returned invisible, making Ranma’s danger sense scream.

Frantically dodging, the hard-pressed martial artist unleashed his most recklessly violent move: the Kijin Dai Ran Bu (Demon God Mad Dance). Chi induced vacuum blades whirled chaotically outwards from his body, as he spun madly around spear points, chained sickles, and trident tines thrust at him with inhuman speeds.

Parts of weapons and devils littered the ground when he stopped fifty seconds later.

The ten foot tall oni leader uncrossed his arms, his great sword shattered beside him. The small hornless oni cowering behind his elephantine legs seized this as the perfect moment to run away. Shaking his long beard of tangled hair out, the huge devil rolled its neck, cracking the vertebrae.

Looking with ki-vision, Ranma could tell the oni-leader’s immense spiritual aura had deflected the random vacuum slashes of the Demon God Mad Dance. Appraisingly, Ranma asked, “Why are we fighting?”

The large horned creature rumbled, “Strife is what I am.”

Nodding, Ranma replied, “Then I challenge you. If you win, you can eat my soul; but if I win, before your stinking carcass dissolves, you’ll tell me where in Ne-no-kuni I go for curse dispelling.”

Knowing he would have to fight anyway, Ranma had decided to control the situation.

“Fine. Be a good meal and die!” Shooting a massive lightning blast at Ranma’s face with his horns, the devil flew into the air and began gathering killing ki for a higher magnitude attack.

Bending almost completely backward to avoid the crackling bolt, Ranma prepared a quick and dirty cleansing procedure he’d learned at Fushimiinari.

Leaping back up with a glimmering fist of righteousness, he faced the massive aerial oni in the midst of accumulating evil energy. Releasing the banishment forth, Ranma yelled “Aku Soku Zan!”

A beam of purification flowed into the nexus of evil power, briefly halting its expansion before dissipating. Ranma wondered at his wisdom of invoking banishment to Hell when already in Hell (or at least close by).

Pondering his next move, Ranma watched the huge oni climb three hundred feet higher into the air. A black globe of evil, killing power as wide as a small Buick hovered in front of the devil’s body.

Not wanting the ground’s vulnerability, Ranma ran, dodging the small black spheres the hovering oni began hurling down. Whenever the darkling raindrops touched the ground, the stink of corruption oozed out as dirt smoked ominously.

The vacuum envelope formed around him, and he launched himself unwaveringly vertical, traveling through and above the unnatural storm. Dark killing energy surrounded his ki-shield until the he was a corrupt ovoid shooting into heaven. Pulsing his aura with overtones of love and exaltation, Ranma evaporated the festering darkness.

Completely cleansed thousands of feet above his adversary, Ranma poured his heart and soul into the very front of his vacuum bubble. Higher emotions glinted in metaphysical sharpness as he launched himself down towards the master devil.

Sensing a righteously vengeful meteor, the fiend dismissed the evil rain and condensed his dark power into a cloud hundreds of feet across centered on him. From his heart of darkness, the devil sent a sustained blast of vile murder at Ranma’s descending form.

With a thousand feet separating the two combatants, the plague beam hit the edge of Ranma’s vacuum bubble and split into two halves from the glistening purity. The resistance slowed his descent slightly, and he realized this course was a final strike. Pushing against this current of darkness would completely consume his energies.

At five hundred feet, he thought of the woman he truly loved, and Nodoka’s smiling face brought renewed determination.

At three hundred feet he wondered if this entire fight had been a reckless mistake, then sealed a crack in his ki-bubble before it shattered from self-doubt. Doubt wasn’t allowed if he expected to succeed.

At one hundred feet the devil yelled “Die!” and his progress was completely halted for several seconds by a new rush of bleakness. Reaching deep within, Ranma forced his way down again.

At ten feet he saw the smiling bloody eyes of evil reveling in dark glory.

Then it was over. The supernaturally sharp edge of his frontal vacuum shield cut the oni into two halves. Without a malevolent will to guide it, the cloud of evil began slowly dispersing.

Exhausted and triumphant, Ranma landed on the festering ground beside the top half of the bisected fiend. Stepping back quickly, he allowed the remains of his vacuum shield to shatter from the pervasive darkness. The power left was too tainted to reabsorb.

Glaring at the pained remainder of the devil, Ranma demanded: “Vanquished one, hold to our bargain!”

Laughing weakly, the oni whispered, “Take the northern road into Ne-no-kuni and seek Su-san-ou!” Before breaking into a coughing fit.

Satisfied the devil had little life remaining, Ranma couldn’t understand why it continued laughing after the hacking coughs had passed.

Then he felt evils approaching on the edge of his perceptions. Less than a mile away and closing fast.

Groaning softly, he realized fighting a huge flashy battle on the edge of Hell wasn’t very smart. Now exhausted without enough power for a major attack, he was easy game. The ambient energies would immediately corrupt his soul if he tried Kissing the Face of Life. Who knew how many more powerful fiends, onis, and devils were coming?

Panicked, Ranma started running back down the Path of Good Intentions. His senses screamed oceans of evil would possess this location soon.

He thought about trying to channel ki into the Amulet of Presence, but he wasn’t sure if demons could be considered kami. Such uncertainty caused him to abandon the idea until it became a last resort.

Suddenly an over muscled thirty-foot demon with a lizard’s head appeared and punched him into the air faster than he could register the blow.

Easily matching his upward velocity, the beast drew even with him and hissed malevolently, “Little mortal your time is nigh, nothing will stop us from consuming all that you are.”

Reaching for reserves he only hoped would answer; Ranma retaliated with the Sharp Edge of Nirvana. A dozen tendrils of ki, different in intensity, emotion, and polarity struck the infernal thing. Desperation, hope, rage, anger, acceptance, righteousness, determination, ego, fear, exaltation, exhaustion, sadness, and love; each streamer of ki sizzled against the immense body of the greater demon.

It laughed merrily at the ineffectiveness of the attack, and kicked Ranma hard with a clawed foot, snapping two ribs and leaving three bloody nail punctures in his stomach.

Traveling farther upwards, Ranma felt his body moving faster than he’d ever imagined. He knew the demon was playing with him now, and he watched it chase after him, far below.

Breathing hurt now.

Based on rate of ascent and the devil’s relative speed, the analytic part of Ranma’s brain informed him he had less than two minutes to live. Absently, he smelled his clothing smoldering from the frictional air resistance, but ignored it thanks to the phoenix pill from long ago.

Irrelevant thoughts entered his mind, like how much atmosphere did the Kami-realm have? On Earth the oxygen would be long gone if he had flown this high. Did the sky of the Kami have stars?

Would the Nanban Mirror save him if demons feasted upon his soul? Arguably he was already in a metaphysical realm, might this change the outcome? Surviving the demise of his body might be completely different than living after his soul was devoured. Betting his existence on such a question would be incredibly stupid.

Feeling himself slow, Ranma watched the slavering maw of the demon-dragon approach. At least it looked more like a dragon now; parts of it flickered as if it was reshaping itself.

Not much time left.

Closing his eyes, Ranma thought of his room at the Tendos, how it felt like his home after ten years of training and wandering. He imagined himself falling into the koi pond, and waking up. Just like happened every morning for uncounted years.

With no dregs of ki left, Ranma drew upon the muted life force inside his body. Such blatant disregard for his own health might kill him, but physical death could be survived, while soul death remained unknown.

Sparks danced around Ranma’s flying body, as he struggled for the right sensation to activate the Nanban Mirror suspended in his blood. Like what he’d felt when empowering the Gate.

Nothing worked.

Opening his eyes, and frantically thinking of home with what he prayed were the correct energies surrounding him in a corona, Ranma watched his adversary open its mouth impossibly wise. Looking down the monster’s throat, he saw only a dark starless tunnel, not the pinkish orifice of a mortal digestive tract.

The Hell-spirit had now matched his speed.

When he felt acid melting his heart of hearts, as the jaws of the great reptile began shutting, Ranma instinctively knew he faced total obliteration. No last minute salvation, this time. No waking up in the koi tomorrow.

Still thinking of home, Ranma felt the ethereal fangs of a Greater Duke of Hell piercing his soul. He shed a single tear, regretting he’d never again see those he loved.

A single, special tear.

With this small, understated catalyst the Nanban Mirror answered Ranma’s wish, leaving an ancient evil chewing on empty air.

Ramna hit the Koi pond going hundreds of miles per hour, leaving a large crater on the bottom and killing five unlucky fish. Whatever other tricks the mirror might perform; reducing transition momentum wasn’t one of them. His body used the last of his life-force fueled corona to cushion his impact.

The noise of the splashdown attracted the attention of the entire Tendo clan and his father. It was late evening, and the family had just finished Kasumi’s dinner.

Everyone came rushing out of the house, and Akane dragged her unconscious floating fiancé out of the pond. CPR was unnecessary, though they cleaned and bandaged the puncture wounds in Ranma’s stomach.

His body a massive bruise; Ranma’s first sight upon regaining consciousness on the Tendo couch was the concerned face of her father. Surprised that the old fool actually cared, she groaned after poking her wounds experimentally, not noticing Soun turning off the television.

She tossed off the blankets Kasumi had covered her with, and tried to stand. Those three surprise concussions she now knew she had convinced her not to.

“What happened boy!” Yelled Genma, getting in her face. The loud noise made her wince, but the bleary red-head recognized contempt mixed with concern. In past situations like this, the old man had always overridden his parental inclinations with angry annoyance Ranma hadn’t mastered the Art.

Looking at her father, Ranma replied softly, “I completely, utterly, lost. I barely escaped from eternal death with my soul intact.”

Blustering put aside, the elder Saotome looked at his child for once, without preconception. “What kind of demon did you fight?” He asked seriously.

“Well after using the Demon God Mad Dance on the pack of oni, and then defeating their leader, I ran away from this huge gray green lizard dragon. Remember that Muscle Sword guy from the Jusenkyo Preservation Society? This thing had more defined muscles in its left knuckle than in his entire body.”

“Goodness!” Exclaimed Kasumi, who had thoughtfully brought lemonade and cookies now that Ranma was up.

“I don’t suppose you know who called these creatures forth?” Genma’s fear showed. The largest demon he’d ever banished was a six-foot long hell-centipede.

Knowing the meaning behind the panicky look on her father’s face, Ranma sighed. “Don’t worry pops, all the devils are back in Hell now, so the neighborhood is still safe. You don’t need to hide away in Osaka like a whipped little dog.”

The blustering anger on Genma’s face now barely covered relief.

“But Ranma, you said you had completely, utterly, lost!” Soun held up Nabiki’s tape recorder, and hit the play button.

A soft, hurting voice, Ranma dubiously recognized as her own spoke back: “I completely, utterly, lost. I barely escaped from eternal death with my soul intact.”

“I did lose!” Barked the beaten girl; annoyed she had to defend a glaring failure from misinterpretation. “That stupid demon-dragon moved faster than I could follow, and then laughed off the Sharp Edge of Nirvana!”

“The Master’s secret Ace!” Gasped Soun and Genma in tandem, recognizing a technique they both had once aspired to learn.

“But Ranma,” asked Kasumi politely, “Being so over matched, however did you manage to stop the demon?”

“Simple, “chuckled Ranma, wincing in pain, “I didn’t stop it.”

“Does this mean we should say our prayers and hope our deaths won’t be lingering?” Inquired Kasumi with a slight touch of concern.

“You shouldn’t worry about it. I fought those demons on the outskirts of Hell, not in this world.”

Nodding, Kasumi left the thoughtful snack and retired to her room where the interesting medical books waited.

“What the hell were you doing in Hell, boy!” Genma sounded furious; Ranma had never seen her father get so worked up when food wasn’t involved.

Deciding on the short version, she answered darkly: “It was Happosai’s fault!”

Soun nodded sagely, having once faced a horde of rampaging Valkyries missing their stylish metal bikinis. Those Norse women sure hit hard!

“I warned you before about angering the master boy! See what his displeasure brings?” Ranted Genma.

“Yes, he is to be feared, and disposed of safely when unaware!” Added Soun with teary emphasis as he rotated in place, making sure Happi wasn’t standing close, witnessing his sedition.

Seeing how easily her father and Mr. Tendo dismissed the incident when Happosai was named, Ranma wondered what else the old letch could have done?

After a short silence, the older men announced they were going drinking at a new bar they’d seen advertised on T.V. while waiting, not that they had been concerned.

“Feel free to take advantage of my daughters, son.” Encouraged Mr. Tendo on his way out. “Why Akane should be sound asleep right now!”

Right before sliding the door shut, her father added: “Yes, boy, hurry and join the schools. Nothing like a woman to help forget your injuries!” Genma’s wisdom was dubious at best.

Lying back down on the couch, glad the morons left; Ranma wasn’t surprised at being alone. The old fools were superstitious about partying after another of Happosai’s schemes was revealed. She suspected they celebrated because most of their Master’s mischief no longer involved them, and going out drinking was a way to escape Happi’s notice if he was occupied elsewhere. Pathetic cowards.

Shivering alone on the couch in the empty Tendo living room, the Ranma sighed. She hadn’t enough ki left to activate her Jusenkyo trigger or even kick-start a spiritual replenishment, Gemna had eaten all of Kasumi’s cookies, and most importantly, she didn’t to be alone.

“Stupid post-traumatic psychological stress.” Muttered Ranma, who had read up on combat disorders.

Where were the fiancées anyway? Nabiki usually called them immediately whenever crap like this happened.

Slowly Ranma balanced on the edge of the couch, thankful she had gotten a glass of Kasumi’s lemonade earlier. That good sugary energy helped stop the room from spinning when she forced herself to stand.

Hobbling up the stairs, ten minutes of pain found a redheaded girl hesitating outside Akane’s door. The tomboy slept, and Ranma considered the consequences of asking if it was OK to sleep with her. Just sleep. No, really Akane, just sleep! Dammit, I’m not a pervert, just hurt!

Shuddering, Ranma decided she wasn’t physically ready for the inevitable misunderstanding and observed Nabiki’s door, down the hall.

A verbal confrontation was doable. Opening Nabiki’s door, Ranma noted the mercenary Tendo slept neatly under her single sheet and blanket. The alarm clock Nabiki never used read 12:21am.

Shuffling inside, clenching her stomach to minimize the pain from the puncture wounds, Ranma gently laid herself down next to the sleeping girl.

Curling against her companion, Ranma succeeded in waking Nabiki up.

Never one to instinctively resort to violence, but also a woman who placed high priority on her personal space and comforts, Nabiki squirmed around to ascertain who would dare bother her! Even Happosai left her alone after she had threatened him with the police and promised to look the other way if Kasumi and herself were safe at night.

“Oh; it’s you Ranma.” Anger mostly vanishing, Nabiki disentangled herself from her uninvited guest, and sat up.

“I don’t wanna be alone now Nabiki; I nearly died earlier and I feel terrible.” Making herself more comfortable, the wounded girl stole the blankets.

“Sympathies. But you can’t stay. Now get up, or I’ll start tickling you, which will cause really, really painful laughter with three bloody stomach wounds.” Poise restored, the mercenary Tendo proceeded to take control.

“How much?” Asked the entrenched redhead, who didn’t wish to move.

Nabiki shuddered involuntarily, waiting for Akane to burst in and jump to conclusions: Ranma sprawled in her bed late at night, asking her ‘how much’ while they were both in compromising positions. Of course it was perfectly innocent!

When her little sister didn’t show, Nabiki shook her head. “This one isn’t for sale. I’m still on Akane’s bad side from The Wedding a few days ago; remember? Why do you think I didn’t call Ukyo and Shampoo earlier?”

Ranma barely remembered the failed wedding, which to her, happened years ago.

However, when Nabiki began poking her in a ticklish way, Ranma vacated the bed. A trained martial should be able to control her own tickle response, but an Artist of War always chose the right ground.

If Nabiki made her laugh, it would really hurt. The devious Tendo wouldn’t take long to realize which jokes appealed to her sense of humor. Wearily, Ranma ignored a whispered suggestion to ‘go sleep with Akane,’ and slowly trudged through the house, until she stood outside Kasumi’s door.

Knowing the eldest Tendo’s habits, Ranma hoped this didn’t embarrass both of them as she softly entered.

Thankfully Kasumi was reading a thick book and hadn’t taken her favorite diversion out. Startled at being interrupted in her sanctum, the passive Tendo put down her volume. “Why whatever are you doing here so late Ranma?” Annoyance tinged Kasumi’s voice, and for once she didn’t smile.

“I’m hurt, I have concussions, I have bloody holes in my stomach, and there is no way I am gonna be alone now Kasumi. Akane is too touchy, and Nabiki said ‘no,’ so you’re stuck with me for tonight.” And I ain’t too coherent either, added Ranma mentally.

Taking advantage of the older girl’s compassion and kind nature, the hurting martial artist gently laid down next to Kasumi.

“But it’s just not proper!” Exclaimed the dutiful housekeeper, now actually a little angry.

“Neither is using that little black tube in your drawer every day, but this isn’t for pleasure. I ain’t doing this to piss you off Kasumi; I just want help.”

“Well.. . . ” Sounding less angry, the older girl wasn’t convinced. She looked longingly at the drawer by her nightstand.

“Look, you wake up first anyway; you can say you found me on the couch and helped me move here because I was too hurt to be bothered in the morning.”

“That does sound reasonable.” Said Kasumi, who still thought it wasn’t.

Getting comfortable in Kasumi’s blanket, Ranma added, “Geez, if you still want to use your vibrator tonight, don’t let me stop you.”

“No, that would be socially awkward with a guest present. Tomorrow will be a new day; Ranma, you owe me really big favor for this!” Putting aside her book, Kasumi turned off her reading light.

“No problem Kas-chan, I’ll make it up to ya. I wish my real fiancées were more like you.” Snuggling closer to the eldest Tendo, Ranma-chan became as comfortable as it possible to get with multiple concussions and healing gut wounds.

Finally feeling safe, and a little loved, Ranma slept at last.

Looking down at her self-invited sleeping partner, Kasumi wondered when Ranma had matured. The Ranma Saotome she knew would never be able to have that conversation without stammering into heated denials.

‘Akane is luckier than I,’ thought the eldest Tendo, as she settled down to sleep, wondering why the gates of her heart were rattling against her self-appointed obligations.

Tomorrow when Ranma awoke in the koi, Kasumi did not remember what, for her, didn’t happen. Ranma vowed not to forget such selfless kindness.

Next: “Inner Fears”

Author’s Notes:

--Miyuki-chan is from the anime “Miyuki-chan in Wonderland” by CLAMP, and does not belong to me. I enjoyed this crazy little diversion (only a half hour long), and you might too.

--“Alice in Wonderland” is by Lewis Carroll, and has fallen into the public domain since it was written so long ago. The Queen of Hearts and the March Hare come from this, though I tried to tweak their personalities based on CLAMP’s rendition of the characters.

--Kouda is the last name of Miyuki-chan’s seiryu (voice actress), as her last name was never mentioned.

--The signpost quote comes from “Korea, Though Myths and Legends.” Robin Rhee. Seoul Press, 1996. My library didn’t have any books on Japanese mythology, so I made due.

--Aku Soku Zan can be translated as “Kill Evil Instantly” or “Sin Swift Slay” and was the motto of the Shinsengumi in “Ruroni Kenshin.” I do not know if it has genuine historical basis.